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Ridikulus Pt 38

Ready for the ride later in warm jeans and heeled boots a long maroon sweater was topped with a second short vest you walked down to breakfast with freshly woken Em who the Pears would be watching today. All around the table you found your family that set off small confetti charms and jostled you around in hugs and mild teases on the spur nuptials. Food however picked up the focus of your attention. Regulus and Lindir came down claiming their chairs with Regulus holding the jar in hand of the freshly rinsed Dwarf rings the night prior he dipped in Basilisk venom for you he passed to Hermione saying, “I guess you can give these back to the Durins when you drop by Fili’s today.”

She shifted the jar in her hand saying, “Well I’m actually only seeing Dis and Niro today, but they would be glad for them. Might not be glad to pass on there’s a new Elf Kingdom to add to the mix of allies.”

That had you chuckle, “Seemed to be empty aside from animals but it’s more just a move of the returned Elves to more space for them to spread out. If he really wants to balance it out they could always bring some Hobbits and challenge their populations.” That had her giggle as you added, “Bring in some adorable young Hobbit Smials full of some pretty Hobbits, set up a nice match making center and get some more Dwarf babies in the mix.”

Hermione smiled saying, “Thorin has mentioned it. They always had some great customers out in the Shire, especially for their tilling tools and such. Though he also mentioned having to bring the topic to the table with you since technically we are sharing lands and it might take off some territory from our lands.”

“Oh sure, I guess. I’m taking the Pegasus on their flight later after school over Greenwood, if he’s free we could talk there at supper if he likes, or even a lunch today or another day when it fits his schedule.”

She nodded, “I’ll let them know.”

Classes were a welcome thing to shift your focus from the morning barrage of the Pears who exploded with the news of the elopement that shifted the view of the big celebration for your birthday coming up in their eyes for a suitably grand welcome to the new world. A double wedding was proving hard to plan for your relatives or even to imagine so this was an approvable alternative for everyone. And naturally as Tuesday you and next to Minerva you sat drinking your tea sharing news of the week and decompressing in the traditional time with your godmother now looking closer to her 40’s and younger by the day.

A knock on the door had the cup in Minerva’s hand lowering for her to say, “Come in.”

The door eased open and through it came Dumbledore who shut the door and turned to come and join you both approaching the carpet the table was resting on he stopped at the edge of. “Sorry to disturb Minerva, however I wished to speak to the both of you.” His eyes shifted to you as your eyes rose from the Elder wand in his fingers that kept smoothing over the strips between the knots. “Jaqiearae,” he sighed softly saying, “For years now there has been a tension of sorts between us, on our differing paths to the same goal. Mainly for my own reluctance on sharing my own beliefs and opinions. I never truly thanked you, for all you have endured to see to Voldemort’s death and the downfall of R and the Augreys. How truly humbling it is to know how much pain you had to endure to get to that point. I cannot fathom all the struggles involved and how I had compounded that weight upon you. I saw your pain, I saw the exhaustion, and I did nothing. That is something I cannot erase, I broke your trust and was unwilling to trust completely myself.”

He paused a moment for a new breath and then added, “My reason for coming today is that I have been contacted by the current Headmaster of Durmstrang, the position has been shaky since Igor has died. I have accepted the position and upon the beginning of the fall term I will be there to see if I might to instill some much needed stability to their school. I truly do cherish every moment I have spent on these grounds and there is no one, Minerva, else who I would entrust with charge of these grounds and the minds to shape inside of them.”

“Oh wow,” you muttered.

He gave you a kind grin, “I am so inexplicably proud to have had you among the pupils we taught here and will be keeping up with the path of the Kenmare Kestrals and rooting you on. Perhaps some space might be best for us all and allow some time to heal and reflect.”

Minerva said, “You are certain of this?”

Dumbledore nodded, “Yes, most of my time for the remaining weeks will be contacting choices to instruct as most of theirs have been taking to flying off in the middle of the night. Much worse than the hexed position all over again. The full school is bent on wreaking havoc, so for a few days at least I am traveling out there to assess the damage and to see where I might improve upon things. I shall return however in time for your birthday celebration, I did wish to leave this to you.” He said offering you the Elder Wand that you timidly accepted. “Since our arrival here it seems to have broken its trust with me as well. Refusing to cast barely anything,” his smile eased out, “Took me quite some time to find my former wand, and ooh, did it nip at me for the decades of neglect.” His eyes shifted to Minerva again while you eyed the wand you felt pulsing in your fingertips, “I will always treasure our friendship and I will never find a friendship as golden and pure as ours no matter how kind the Professors try to be to me to gain my favor. Fawkes will certainly enjoy the flights for our correspondence.”

By the time you looked up again he was on his way through the door he closed behind himself, to her your eyes shifted and you asked, “Did he just quit?”

Minerva, “Gave notice, however, I never assumed to inherit this school without his death.”

“I don’t know how to feel about this.”

She flashed you a calming grin, “Well, we will carry on and endure. Perhaps Durmstrang truly is in trouble to have contacted him.”

“Or he just wanted the furthest spot from me next term.”

At that she chuckled and shook her head, “Not true, if anything he is not looking forward to finding a replacement for Professor Sprout.”

“She’s retiring?”

“Not quite, but possibly soon. Carrying the students and all of their work since her aid was killed is rather rough on her.”

“If she needs an aid you can write to Neville, they’re outsourcing his role in May now that Remus is settling all the Aurors into positions permanently.”

Minerva, “Neville would be perfect for the position. I’ll write him in my exam time in my next class. I am certain he will respond quickly.”

That had you giggle, “He’ll answer within the hour would be my bet.” She echoed with a chuckle of her own.

Fully opened for the day Weasley Wizard Wheezes was filling with the chatter and sounds echoing of the enchanted toys floating around above Dudley in his final check up on the displays while Ginny locked the register and pulled out the order sheet for the items and potions not in stock to be made and prepped later. It didn’t take long until the first customers entered and the pair assisted each of them while the blonde upstairs finished restocking another display while keeping an eye on the customers ensuring the others wouldn’t get overwhelmed while they did the menial tasks.

A few hours in however a timid pair of Dwarves found their way inside. The ginger haired thickly bearded shorter one led his chestnut haired husband through the shop. Their green eyes shining hopefully while they looked over the displays only for them to turn back towards the door when they saw no sign of the one they wanted. Halfway however Dudley stopped in their path asking, “Can I help you find something?”

Wetting his lips the chestnut haired one peered up at the teen asking, “We were just browsing.”

Dudley nodded as they stuttered a step then he asked, “It wouldn’t happen to be about that gender potion? Would it?” Their lips parted and Dudley said, “Jaqi’s not here, but she said to take down the information of any coming to ask about it and she’d set an appointment to collect what’s needed.” The couple glanced at one another and Dudley stated, “We have one of our friends coming up with a Dwarvish sign. Should be in later today.” He drew a journal out of his back pocket along with a pen he uncapped, and gave them a soft grin handing the pair to the couple who wrote down their names and address for their home in Erebor then passed them back.

Dudley grinned again and said, “I’ll make sure she gets this by lunch, she’s due to drop in today, and she will contact you for a consultation.”

The pair bowed their heads thanking Dudley then hurried back out again making him chuckle and head back to Ginny who asked, “First gender potion request?”

Dudley nodded and chuckled, “We might want to hurry up with a sign. They nearly left.”

Ginny nodded, “Well, shouldn’t take too long now till we get more filing in to give their names.”

Dudley, “Just hope they don’t all start bustling in at once. I doubt they could handle more than two at a time.”

Ginny chuckled, “Well it’s a big step, I doubt they would come out in droves.”

“Ada, I heard you wished to speak to me?” Legolas stated upon entering the study of his apartment finding a set of notes from the celebration he wanted to triple check the progress of.

Turned around the King smiled and said, “Yes, how were your patrols?”

“Very well, still clear of spiders and pests. Although there are some mountain goat herds trampling upon badger territories in our upper rings. Nothing too terribly troubling for us to send aid, and we uncovered a hidden troll hoard with more spoils we brought back to inspect and redistribute.”

“That is impressive.” The trip within the mirror was described in the move to the seating area and in each hand movement the rings came to his focus spreading is father’s smile until he could say, “And the largest news is we are married.”

Legolas said, “Was the plan not to propose marriage? I am pleased, so very pleased, merely confused.”

Thranduil inhaled and eased a bit closer to his son on the chair across from his, “That was the initial plan to honor her customs, however it was her offer to honor our culture to claim us as her husbands and could merely inform others we had eloped and to hold a celebratory dinner. In fact made these rings for us, the larger for an engagement ring of our own and for our wedding bands.” He showed his rings to Legolas who smiled wider sharing, “Each of these opals are for our children between us, yours in the center, they grow as our little ones do. For the future a ceremony may come or it may just remain a dinner, however for now we are married and discovering where we are traveling together in our lives.”

“I did not expect to be included in demonstrations of your union.”

Thranduil gave him a comforting grin, “I understand that. You are fully grown so naturally it would not be expected for her to have claimed you as one of our children, however you are my son and she in no way would exclude you as part of our family. Even Naneth is gaining a friendship with Jaqi. I do believe the intention was honorable for her to have decided on her own without discussing with us first.”

“Are there intentions of a shift of my rank now heirs are a possibility?”

“Absolutely not, no. Our relationship does not alter our status. This union is not for the intention of altering anyone’s rank. That we have discussed, for the time being Jaqi has requested to assist me when possible in our settling. Yet when it comes to the weight of full rule as Queen she is requiring time. There are still great wounds requiring time to heal, this is how we are going to help her. We have so much to learn about one another and no, there are no intentions of any shift of power. For now we welcome her on her birthday to her rule and allow things to settle as they do.”

Legolas asked, “How may I help?”

“For now, we will keep focus on the celebration and later today Jaqi has requested permission to escort a herd of flying horses over our forest as a means of their first flight. For which I fully anticipate Thengel to arrive.” Making his son smirk and get back to his apartment to bathe, change and pick up on finishing off your gift he was making you.

Times of council alone was something that had drawn Lord Elrond to the Black Family Home. Back to speak with a fellow emotionally wounded father with whom he had grown to become frond of a friendship and personal talks together. And here he sat across from Sirius Black with his adopted son in hand once he had been changed. The child in question being a good doorway to aid in airing some more weight lifting details for his friend. “Was his father a good man?”

“Harry was, tried to be. Not much of a chance to be. Better father than his had been as it should be. Little Fin is going to be a great man one day.”

Elrond asked, “If I may, what did his grandfather do to earn that image in your eyes? I was under the understanding the pair of you were close having married sisters who both mothered your children.”

“Yes. We did. And James and me went back farther than that. Back since first year when he caught on I didn’t want to go home. My parents took it terribly that I wasn’t in Slytherin like Reg ended up. Drove a wedge between us for the apparent slight on the family name. But eventually I needed a place to go and the Potters took me in. Normally my parents would have tracked me down and drug me back by my hair but they were one of the Sacred 28 and socially accepted as one of our old relations. They had James late in life and he was their golden child who could do no wrong. That went to his head.

Jewels, Lily and Sev were three peas in a pod even when they were sorted apart. James saw Lily and I saw Jewels so we had a common target to wedge ourselves between for their company. Didn’t work only pissed the girls off. But by the time we were in our fifth year the pranks and rivalry grew to something more for James.

One day Sev was under a tree and Lily had turned him down again so he was already and after Sev got top marks in our class yet again over James’ pitiful Troll mark he saw red. Went over and I thought it was just a bit of ribbing, some verbal jabs to blow off but he strung him up. Then I saw him undo Sev’s belt and I could see Jewels on her way over ready to murder James, so I blasted James first.

Jewels already had two strikes after having snuck out to the Centaur herds a couple times and irritating the patience out of the latest batch of creatures for Magical Creatures class till they flew off to hide in the Herbology greenhouses. She loved Sev, since they were kids, even though he loved Lily, and she was settling into that and saw that no matter how much she made herself look like Lily he’d never pick her. But she’d never let James cross lines before and that look in her eye I knew would be the end. I bound him up and drug him to McGonagall’s knowing she’d lay into him unlike Dumbledore who’d try to always say boys will be boys. And that Sev always gave as good as he got.”

Elrond stated in his pause, “That was very brave of you.”

Sirius chuckled breathlessly to himself, “No. it was selfish, he got a year’s detention and kicked off the Quidditch team. Never forgave me for that. Gave Reg a firing chance at the Cup that year. Never heard the end of that either.” His face went serious and he continued, “James didn’t let me back in the dorm the rest of the year after I asked him if he’d attack Reg too if he had the chance. Used to keep bringing up that Reg was slotted to join the Death Eaters like Sev wanted to. Back then there was only one choice full or half blood, join or die. And even though Sev was a half-blood they needed bodies.”

Elrond asked, “Did he let you back that summer, you shared before you lived with his family.”

“No. Or well, didn’t give him a chance to turn me down. He could be so exhausting at times to be around when he felt empowered. Wasn’t the first time we’d had a spat and he’d kicked me out. But this time my cousin Andromeda and her at the time boyfriend Teddy, they were lined up for a Muggle duplex near to where Jewels lived and so I said I’d chip in for the spare room and Reg ended up with us in the other apartment with Sev who needed an out of his own from his dad. He had an in with a record shop that hired kids during the summer and we all lived pretty rough that summer, but Jewels always came round.

Finally strong enough to look like herself and not Lily’s twin, and was she beautiful first time she let me see the real her. Just like I’d seen the moon the first time. And that was when she decided to find out who her birth family was when her and Petunia and Lily had a row of their own. Something about their dad being sick set them all off. And then about half the year when we got back to Hogwarts I spent most of the year sneaking to Reg’s dorm. Christmas break Reg went round for the first time to Riddle’s hideout and was told to tidy up. Found a hidden hatch in his library. Liked to keep journals and scrapbooks. Bits and pieces that Reg snuck a Muggle camera in the next time to page by page capture what was on it or Riddle’d caught on that someone made a copy. James could never keep his nose out of things for his own good and sniffed out we were up to mischief and by next term again he was back round when he saw we’d drawn Remus in to try and figure out what the clippings meant.

We never told him about the horcruxes, just said it had something to do with Riddle’s plans. Drove him wild and by his last year he’d gotten Lily and Jewels and I were going strong in the break Sev had to take from their friendship when his dad died as he had to help his Mum at home through that. And Dumbledore even though he’s not been a Prefect made James Head Boy since he seemed to turn a new leaf and still required some busy work and heavy tasks to distract that he’d not be on the team again his final year. Did all he could to keep that mark off his file but McGonagall insisted and it transferred to his Ministry file, he got his Auror’s badge but they labeled him a loose canon and never let him out unsupervised.”

Elrond, “How does the pregnancy with Jaqi fit into the drama? I know she bears a weight from it as well.”

“Ah, well, we found out Jewels was pregnant at school first term and over Holiday break final year we spoke to her parents, we needed their permission to wed. And of course I sucked up my pride and went home. Mum almost threw us off the stoop till she caught Jewel’s eyes, Slytherin’s eyes. We shared her bloodline we’d uncovered from the Gaunts and she agreed right away. Signed the license and even set me up with a hefty allowance and changed her will. My cousins Narcissa and Bellatrix had already gotten engaged to wealthy suitors so they no longer required inheritance and Andromeda chose a Muggle. So Mum spoke to our aunt and uncle and they all set up Jaqi’s inheritance as the youngest female descendant, Mum of course wrote me a sum and the properties as the eldest with a larger sum for Reg as long as I swore to always grant him a roof. Which was not a hard deal already said as much to him when we were little.

And of course when we got back Jewels got on an accelerated course which I got pushed into as well to be there when she gave birth. McGonagall was always so supportive so we chose her as Godmother and she took time off too to help us when April came round. Sev showed up when school got out to our house and came with us to visits with my Mum, who loved having another girl for the Black clan, especially one with Slytherin’s eyes. Jewels got a spot with a theater troupe and we had a nice little life, I didn’t mind the lesser rank in the Ministry after their distrust gave me more time with my girls.”

“Distrust?”

“I turned James in. My best friend who took me in. Broke an old boy’s code. Part of how Fudge thought I was guilty of already turned on James once before and stunted his career.” Sirius shook his head, “But I got distracted and forgot to look out for Peter, and, he turned on us all. Harry got James’ brash decisions and assured headstrong nature. Fin’ll be better, safer. I’d give so much to have given Pumpkin a safe and happy childhood, and I will always wear that weight for not having done more. But now I have to keep this boy safe and loved, and hope for better than we could achieve.”

Elrond spoke smoothly, “I have no doubts Jaqi has many fond memories in her childhood, and you are alive. In that she is safe, she has you and her daughter will be her motivation as Phineas is yours to protect the future from errors of the past. I have known war and mutilated cultures, and have raised three safe protected children, who yes, know pain, but also endurance and hope for a brighter tomorrow. Which will be all the brighter thanks to you and you family.”

Sirius chuckled, “I didn’t do much beyond annoy you and the other Lords until Pumpkin showed up by prolonging the wait to find that ring. And she did it with a flick of her wrist. Every bit the same explosive resilience her Mum gave her with those same haunted eyes. I used to flinch sharing my name, now, because of her we are truly the Noble House of Black, Jaqiearae’s line. Sometimes I have no clue where she gets it from.”

Elrond chuckled and replied, “All the mirrors in your home are broken I would presume,” that had the father’s smirk at one another, “It is truth and nothing more. Somewhere in there you had a hand in her steadfast strength.”

Sirius chuckled again, “More like Minerva imbued part of her own fire in my girl, every bit influenced by that brilliant Scot. Couldn’t have chosen a better Godmother. Woman can be downright terrifying with a single tick of her brow and angle of her chin.” After a hushed chuckle he asked with a smirk to his friend, “Now, my turn for a question.” Elrond nodded to that. “What type of husbands has my Pumpkin chosen? And I don’t mean rank. Thranduil has his son and Glorfindel has shared he’s raised kids before, but there’s five babies now, including my granddaughter and I won’t have my Pumpkin or her Jelly Bean suffering from some hidden clause they didn’t know about.”

Elrond’s smile split across his face and he relaxed into this path of sharing more towards the fathering techniques and patterns the both of your husbands had to ease these understandable doubts and questions. While himself in a bout of self soothing as well while from time to time flashes of those memories of your suffering had him wishing more than anything to aid in a smooth transition for the three of you upon tackling the process of learning one another even more and to master the topic of parenting your five children.

“Ready Buckbeak?” You said and the Hippogriff squawked happily behind you with the glare he was giving to the teen winged horses around you to keep them from nipping at you in the circle of appointed adult winged horses from various breeds to guard their own foals that were ready to get flying. Turned around the neck behind you it was easy to hop up onto Buckbeak’s back to signal his turn and trot to take off into the air. Right behind him hooves thundered with at a great distance the students caught the fifty foals and twelve fully grown winged horses that took into the air off towards the Greater Greenwood. Off to the side you soared to let the lead stallions guide the group across the Black Lake and field beyond that. A river came next past a green hilly pasture the herd excitedly eyed and fanned out into their own groups on the stretch for the seemingly endless forest ahead.

Winds thankfully were less harsh beyond the river with a few spotty clouds in between the younger foals were shown which to fly over and which to fly through. Content on the flight Buckbeak soared with feathers rippling to the whip off your curls in a braided ponytail out behind you to the shivers of your sweater secured by your vest. All ignored while you kept your eyes open for any dangers with wand at the ready on your thigh and the other hand on the tolerated scarf around Buckbeak’s neck he preferred to a rope when being ridden. Halfway over Amon Lanc under the shorter trees between the larger trees around the rebuilt keep Elves down below peered up at the stunning creatures that bounced on a new wind current that had shifted and settled again for their formations to relax back into their flight when the group was over the trees again.

Zig zags and long curved path changes you swung around widely helped to cover a vast stretch of the forest from the golden sky long past the moment when the stars surrounded you that hindered clear views of the herds they could hear far above them. Though dipping down between a ring of trees at the clear signs of growing tired into the inner ring of the Palace Buckbeak led the way for a clear spring near the portals that the foals could use to get back to the Forbidden Forest easily once they had rested. Into the open pathways crowds darted and behind the guards with heads turning on their own. Halfway across the field Buckbeak stopped at the trio of boys excitedly jumping beside Thranduil and Glorfindel with Legolas darting out of the Palace himself while Thengel stood open mouthed gawking at the creatures passing him. Loud and clear the snarl from a foal was cut off by Buckbeak’s squawk and kick his way blocking the children with his body, through which you swung your leg over and slid off his back to walk to the trio.

“Hey boys. Come meet Buckbeak.” Excitedly they hurried over to the Hippogriff that you explained and guided them on strokes of his head and the ends of his wings he stretched for them.

Thengel came over, “These are your steeds?”

When you met his eye you smiled and said, “Not mainly. Hippogriffs rarely allow people to ride them, but Buckbeak was born and raised at Hogwarts around us, wild ones don’t hardly let people around them and Pegasus even less so. These, well the golden breeds,” you said pointing over the foals fanned out at the stream to drink while the Stallions took turns drinking and keeping watch with a pure white stallion that lingered near Buckbeak. “They were raised on Hogwarts grounds, most of the others except for Nimbus here were wild ones we rescued from the war. They normally live on cliff sides and tend to attack people who come close. Even Nimbus won’t let people ride him but,” you said waving your wand over your palm summoning a tray of fruit that lured it closer with wings fidgeting excitedly. “He can be bribed to tolerate people at a distance. Oddly enough the fanged breeds are the ones who can be brought around people, the fangless breeds remain in their nests on the cliffs. Should have their homes ready for them soon enough to be released to. For now these little guys needed their first flight.”

Thengel watched you walk over and hover a slice up for him to eat and their mouths dropped open again at the fangs revealed. The snacks however lured a couple grey freckled foals closer you offered fruit to turning more heads from the foals that refused to come closer but still tolerated the treats for each of them. Nimbus however was off with a haughty tail flick to get his own drink as the boys came closer as Legolas asked, “Does Buckbeak not eat fruit?”

“He eats dead ferrets actually.” You said with a smirk in his move closer to circle Thengel to get a look at his daughter behind his boots. “Probably not as fun for little kids to watch.”

Glorfindel said in a step closer to your side, “I recall you mentioning Unicorns as well. What do they eat?”

Estel with an apple sliced up from his snack inside he’d brought out to the sight of the herd timidly watched Buckbeak curious if he should offer him the apple he’d moved away from earlier in their pets. Thengel looked from the Hippogriff’s back to you, “Unicorns?” then back to his daughter he picked up granting her courage to touch Buckbeak’s head.

With a smile you giggled and popped off to the Forbidden Forest puzzling the golden haired King while Thranduil and Legolas took a creeping step to inspect the oddly pink group of foals mingled with a mint green pair.

Suddenly your doorway appeared and through it gasps were earned at the sight of a shimmering Unicorn that timidly followed you through it into the clearing near the wide eyed boys. Onto the tray peaches appeared and once sliced they were lowered to the boys it lowered its head to peer at analytically. Thengel just about shrieked in excitement yet held it back to a squeak in Buckbeak’s path to your side at your summoning some ferrets for him to eat off to the side near the stream the herd left to walk to the doorway to head home again. With a grin you turned to offer a slice of the peaches to the Unicorn peering over your shoulder, “And Unicorns, rarely come out at all, but Tibby here was found as a filly and raised by a friend of mine at Hogwarts. Still shy but for small bursts she’ll let the students inspect her for lessons.”

Inched closer to your offered palm the boys lifted the slices that she crept closer to your hushed whisper for confidence in that she was safe. Her moonlit shimmering coat had the Elves in awe watching her timidly take each slice offered. At the end of the Pegasus herd leaving a curious golden filly crept closer to the doorway and to her mother’s side came an even more stunning golden filly crept to the excited boys, “And this is Libby, Tibby’s youngest, and possibly bravest.” You giggled out at Tibby’s move to hide her head behind you in Thengel’s move closer.

Thengel asked, “Why are they afraid?”

You turned to say, “Because they’ve been hunted nearly to extinction before. Most only approach women they come across,” you said at Tibby’s head lowering to the boys’ pats on her legs that she answered with letting them pat her snout. Libby drew the closest to Thengel in his lowering his daughter who accepted a slice from you to feed her earning giggles from the girl. “Now we have strict laws protecting their herds and territory they live in that the Centaurs defend mercilessly. After all it’s unforgivable to harm a creature so pure, in fact those who do live a half life, a cursed life. We do use the hairs from their tails for wands but only shed hairs the Centaurs trade with us annually.” Down Tibby’s neck your hand smoothed at her warning snicker that she was ready to head back home in Buckbeak’s trot to the doorway to inspect an odd birdcall.

Thengel’s eyes however caught on one of the Centaur’s that came into view on his rounds that kept on seeing that you were there to guard the pair close to only you and the children. “I cannot fathom anyone harming these beautiful creatures.”

That had you grin in the mare’s eager turn with a final snatch of the last peach slice on the tray with her tail brushing against your arm answered with a pat on her back hip. Up to your side Libby trotted and reared up making you giggle in her hooves pressing to your hips allowing you to press a kiss to the side of her snout while your hand stroked the other side. Down she went in a turn trotting after her mother through the doorway that vanished behind her. Excitedly the boys chuckled as you lowered and gave you tight hugs chattering about the creatures on the way to bring you to supper.

#HP Crossover #Glorfindel x Reader OC #Thranduil x Reader OC #Sirius Black & Fin #Elrond #Thengel & His Sunshine #Buckbeak #Pegasus #Sharing the Past #Flight over Greater Greenwood #Elurin & Elured #Estel #Unicorn

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mordoriscalling · 4 years

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Stay or Sail Away (1/6)

Here comes part one the modern AU fake dating Geraskier fic that I talked about in this post. I’d like to post each part daily. Tagging @geraskier-trashh as requested! :D

***

It’s not that Jaskier has any problem finding someone, thank you very much. It’s just that he’s busy. Busy with concerts and composing, meeting fans at various events, travelling, internet dramas involving Valdo (it’s always fucking Valdo). There’s no time for a relationship, only for occasional one night stands that sometimes that leave him heartbroken because he actually manages to fall in love with someone in the span of a few hours. It’s fine, though. Heartbreak inspires him like little else.

Jaskier's never complained about lack of bed partners, when he seeks them out. He’s charming, after all. Still, the moment he hears “commitment”, he flees. It’s just not his way. Or perhaps he’s never found anyone fascinating enough to commit to; it takes a lot to keep his attention. He wasn’t even looking for someone like that. Not until recently.

His troubles began a week ago, during a phone call with his mum. She reminded him of his father’s 65th birthday party and asked if he would bring anyone with him. This was followed by a series of questions about his love life because, as his mum put it, “you’re 35, Julian darling, and you’re always working so hard! I worry you’ll end up alone”. In order to placate her, Jaskier might’ve lied a little tiny bit about some things. As a result, because of all the twists and turns of the conversation, he made his mother believe he had a fiancé.

A fucking fiancé.

Wanda Pankratz was ecstatic, wishing to know everything about her son’s relationship, but he dodged all the further questions by saying that she would meet his love soon enough. She left it at that but, of course, told half the family about it, if the texts and calls from his sisters and aunts were anything to go by.

Hence, The Post.

It’s a bit pathetic and desperate, Jaskier can freely admit, but he has no other choice. His personal guard Zoltan almost pissed himself laughing when Jaskier asked him to pretend to be his fiancé, and not one of his friends knows anyone who would want to do this. Not even his agent Triss could help him out.

It all drove Jaskier to log on his anonymous Facebook account (he is a pretty big name in the UK; better be safe than sorry) and post in one of the big London groups.

“I need urgent help from someone who’d be willing to act as my fiancé during a family party on February the 24th. The only thing I expect is the ability to sing praises of our love and to compliment my aunts. It’ll take around 4 hours and then we end our relationship. Age from 35 to 40. It’d be great if you knew something about the sea because I intend to introduce you as a sailor who’s never home and afterwards, you die. Can anybody help?”

Since yesterday, the post has got more than a thousand reactions (mostly the laughing one and likes) and hundreds of comments. Many people tagged their friends as a joke, which is not helpful, but Jaskier still scrolls down and down, trying not to let his hope die. Nobody seems to think his request is for real and he’s received no serious offers so far. Then, one of the newest comment threads catches his attention.

Lambert Rivia: Geralt Rivia Destiny!

Geralt Rivia Fuck off

Yennefer Vengeberg Omg 😂 Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia Eskel Rivia you must see this!

Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia Yesssss!! This is perfect! ❤️

Eskel Rvia Do it Geralt

Geralt Rivia No.

Intrigued, Jaskier decides to check out these people’s profiles. Lambert Rivia is a handsome red-haired man who wears some kind of black military suit in his profile picture. Looking at his bio, Jaskier already knows why Lambert didn’t volunteer himself – he’s in a relationship. Eskel Rivia is blond, even more handsome than Lambert despite facial scars, and also has a photo in a black suit, together with a white cap on his head. There’s no information on Eskel’s relationship status and Jaskier is intrigued indeed. Yennefer Vengeberg is a terrifyingly beautiful woman who, judging how professional her profile picture appears, must work in some serious profession. Cirilla Vengerberg-Rivia is a lovely teenage girl with white-blond hair. Jaskier reckons she’s the daughter of Yennefer and one of the Rivia guys.

He left the poor Geralt’s profile as the last to look at, but now that Jaskier has seen the rest, he checks this one too.

His jaw fucking drops.

Geralt Rivia is a ridiculously handsome man. His face seems practically unreal because, surely, people as beautiful as Geralt don’t actually exist? The man’s long white hair (which makes no sense considering his apparent age), as well as his brown-almost-golden eyes, only add to his otherwordly, stunning appearance. Double stunning in that black military suit he’s wearing in his profile picture, just like Lambert and Eskel. The suit looks familiar and Jaskier has a nagging feeling he really should know what kind of army it is. Google helps him out and he quickly puts two to two – Geralt, Eskel and Lambert serve for the Royal Navy.

He bursts out laughing.

This is too good.

He wonders what he should to about this. Now that he knows about Geralt’s existence, he can’t really miss the chance of meeting him, however slim. His gut feeling tells him not to let the opportunity slip and well, who is Jaskier not to listen?

When he’s in the middle of debating what to write to the man, his phone pings. There’s a new messenger notification... with Geralt’s name. With a racing heart, Jaskier opens the message.

FEB THE 18TH AT 06:14 PM Hey. Everyone’s telling me to message you and won’t leave me alone. Is your request for real? Please say no

Jaskier chuckles and replies:

Hi! I’m sorry they’re bothering you and I’m also sorry to say that my request is very much for real. I’d be forever grateful if you helped me 😁

To this, Geralt responds with:

They really won’t stop until I agree They think it’s so fucking funny

Jaskier purses his lips, already suspecting this isn’t likely to work out. He'll have to face his loving mum and admit that he lied to her about fucking having a fiancé. She’s going to be so disappointed. At the very prospect, bad mood overtakes him, but he still types what he hopes to be a cheerful answer.

Damn, so sorry mate I won’t push you but, again, I’d totally owe you one if you agree ☺️

What would I get?

Jaskier tries to reason with his hope to calm the fuck down and replies:

Money, or a favour of some sort, I have many connections Could be free tickets to my concerts Even my company for the night 😏 Just whatever you want I really need help

Fuck

For a minute or two, the three dots next to Geralt’s photo disappear, and Jaskier’s hope plummets in a dramatic fashion. Then, more messages from Geralt show up in the chat.

Free tickets seem fine My daughter loves going to concerts She’d like free tickets but I never heard of you

Jaskier starts begging any god out there that Cirilla is Geralt’s daughter. Teenagers make up a large part of his audience (which is great, actually; teenage kids are amazing these days). If she’s a fan, the free tickets are a major bargaining chip.

Well, Julian AP isn’t my stage name I don’t use it on fb

What is it? Your stage name

I’d rather not say here And you must promise me you won’t tell anyone about it too Well, anyone but your daughter

Can you call me? It’s better to talk about this on the phone anyway

Fine.

Jaskier sends Geralt his number and waits for the call. In other circumstances, he’d congratulate himself on getting a man like that to call him so easily, but he’s too anxious. His hands itch for his guitar but he doesn’t get up from his bed. He begins smoothing his hair out with his palms, praying in his mind that Geralt hasn’t changed his mind.

After the agonizing wait of six minutes, there’s an incoming call. Jaskier takes a deep breath and picks up.

“Hello,” says a gravelly baritone voice so pleasant that it sends shivers down Jaskier’s spine.

“Uhm, h-hi, Geralt,” he replies a bit breathlessly, “so, my name’s Julian Alfred Pankratz but I’m known to many as Jaskier.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Jaskier?” Geralt repeats, “the one who sings Her Sweet Kiss?”

Jaskier beams, his chest swelling with pride. “The very same.”

“Fuck,” Geralt growls, “Ciri wants to blast this song whenever we drive somewhere.”

Jaskier laughs. “She would love free tickets to my concerts, wouldn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

Geralt says no more. Jaskier has to swallow down to sop his throat from constricting. “So?” he asks, “Can you do this for me?”

The silence on the other side is deafening and Jaskier doesn’t even breathe until Geralt finally speaks up. “Fine,” he grunts, his tone indicating it’s anything but fine.

Air leaves Jaskier’s lungs in a whoosh, replaced by a flood of such sheer relief that he may as well cry. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he babbles, heady with joy, “Gosh, you’re my saviour!”

“Just don’t tell anyone about this,” Geralt grumbles.

“Not a soul, Geralt, not a soul.”

“Send me the details about when and where and let’s get this over w–”

“No, wait!” Jaskier cuts in, “My family’s very perceptive, they’ll know it’s a ruse. We should plan everything carefully.”

“You’re making me regret this,” Gerlt growls.

“I’m sorry!” Jaskier hastens to say. “Just... at least tell me a bit about yourself?”

Geralt lets out an irritated sigh. “I’m forty, serve for the Royal Navy with my brothers. Eskel’s the nice one and Lambert’s the prick. My ex-wife Yennefer works for the government.” Jaskier actually shudders at this one because he already can picture it. Yennefer seems exactly powerful like that. “We have a daughter,” Geralt goes on, his tone softening, “Ciri. She’s fourteen. We live in London but I’m away often.”

“Oh, lovely,” Jaskier says with a wide smile because, really, this man’s love for his daughter is so clear and endearing, “this is something we can start with.”

“Just make everything up about our relationship and send it to me. I’ll play along.”

“Thank you,” he breathes out, still amazed at his luck. Jaskier is almost high on the success of his ingenious scheme and his obligations are therefore non-existent, so nothing stops him from teasing Geralt. “Though, to be completely honest," he says cheekily, "you don’t strike me as the type to sing praises of our love and compliment my aunts.”

“Hmm,” Geralt replies. It doesn’t sound like a negation. “Yen says I’m not that bad if I try.”

The fondness with which he said Yennefer’s name is a cold bucket of water poured on his enthusiasm. “O-oh, ok,” he stutters out, thrown off-track, “So, uhm, would you be willing to try for me?”

For a moment, Geralt says nothing, then answers, “If you give Ciri an autograph.”

Jaskier laughs out loud. “Not a problem at all! Whatever she wants.” He pauses. “Whatever you want,” he adds more seriously.

Geralt only hmms, in a way that Jaskier’s prone-to-romanticism mind would almost call warm. Silence falls between them but it doesn’t feel awkward somehow. “Have to go,” Geralt says.

“Okay,” Jaskier replies quietly, “Thank you again. I’ll text you, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

After Geralt hangs up, Jaskier huffs out a shaky breath. Deep down, he already knows.

This is going to mess him up.

TBC

Part 2

#myfic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher #modern au #pretend relationship #fake dating #fanfic #let's call this... the Sailor and the Singer AU xD #the Sailor and the Singer AU

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merakimousumi · 3 years

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Spirituality - the pathless path !

The story series - Part 2 of 2

Dev Smiled. The mysterious one , the mischievous one. He cleared his voice and made himself comfortable.

He started saying “look I follow every advise which are simple and does not take much of my effort in my life .Ultimately I realised when with I fight with reality I create my struggle. What is the point of struggle , when things can work out well”

My father and mother as you are aware were extremely religious and rituals were daily part of life. Bowing to deity before leaving the house, taking a spoonful of curd before examinations or interview , getting blessing by touching the feet of the elders and so many. I do them all , without questioning whether I believe in them or not, I realize in my early age that it gives me time to do my own stuff and not get into lecture for next 2 hours and sometimes every week , spoiling mood , missing football , music and all those things that mattered at that time.

At this point , Ramesh smiled . Dev was the favourite in school and college. He would always agree with the teachers and would go out of the way, beyond curriculum to provide the assistance. He was favourite of my parents too. He would come home , touch my parents feet always. He would eat everything offered without uttering a word. Dev hated sweets and bitter gourd, however whenever my mother gave him sweet and bitter gourd during lunch visit he would eat them and also appreciate them. Later when asked why did he not refuse, he would always smile and say “one day I can keep my dislike aside, she your mother made them with so much love so appreciated her efforts too “

Knowing this nature, Ramesh was sure that Dev would have integrated this in other aspects in my life, curious to see what is the context now.

Dev now was looking into the moonless night, full of stars and threw his hands over his head as if he has gone to that time he is about to speak. This gentleman who was a Hindu Monk or Sadhu( as mentioned in India ) use to come home every two to three years and stayed for few days. He would instruct my parents to follow some rituals daily, monthly and on specific occasions and it was meticulously followed too. The monk visited soon after demise of my father and that particular day when he was about to leave and he looked at my mother and told her that unless Dev does not surrender to God his life would be full of misery. My mother immediately bowed to his feet and requested to share guidance and save her son from the misery. He raised hand and said softly ask him to chant the name of Almighty daily without fail.

After the monk was gone the only discussion that happened in the next few days with mother was when should the chanting be done and what should be chanted. Mother forced me to read the religious books aloud so that it can he heard, according to her this is chanting, it should create sound and heard. The situation became different when informed that new city is calling for duty.

Mother would not accompany as she felt there are lot of memories of my father and she just cannot leave this surrounding where she has spent 40 years of her married life. There were many relatives around and domestic help , from taking care perspective there was no issue. She wanted Dev to follow the guidance of monk , the promises was not being accepted. Gopal use to be the caregiver of my father and with my father’s death he was jobless. He owned a small land which never yield him enough to sustain him and his wife. Gopal and his wife happily joined me since last 20 years. The responsibility to check and remind me of my chanting was given to Gopal and his wife by my mother. In the coming days daily after returning from work, these two people would never fail to remind me and they stood till something happened. Something workable needed to be done , Dev asserted!!

One day Dev just found the way to follow the instructions of the monk too. Dev called Gopal and his wife and informed them. Both looked astonished however nodded. Since then Dev calls him “ Gopal” and in various names of Lord Krishna and in this way his promise to mother has been fulfilled. There is no separate Hari, Keshav, Madhava, Murli or anyone. Gopal is everyone. On weekends and holidays the number of calling increases, saying this Dev laughed rolling his head. Its been 20 years and is working fine.

Ramesh did not laugh, he was amazed that his friend actually followed the instructions of the monk and fulfilled the promise of his mother so effortlessly. While there is a huge possibility that this is not be written in anywhere in scriptures, however the love and respect that was observed in last two days , there is no denial that the purpose is met. Something did bother Ramesh within and he was unable to pin it down at that moment. At least the mystery is solved !!

Soon Gopal came with another round of black tea. Dev told Gopal that he just briefed about the name. Gopal smiled and nodded his head softly mentioned “I am just following what mother asked me and making sure that you are following it too”.

Next morning as the friends bid goodbye to see each other again. Dev told him that he is eagerly looking for the article to read once it is published. Ramesh sat next to Gopal who was driving the car. Suddenly he turned and asked how does he feels when Dev calls him with different names . Gopal without even loosing sight from the road calmly expressed “ Sense the love, feel the joy by which one calls , name is just incidental. I only respond to that love and joy”. There was a silence after listening as if this frail person understands without having to read, chant , meditate. Just before getting down from the car , I again turned and asked “is Gopal your real name ?” He smiled and said “ no saheb , my name is Rahim”.

There was a shiver that went to the spine that can be felt even today.

Sitting in the first class compartment absorbed in thoughts looking outside the window, the notes made from the interview slipping its pages on its own on the lap, Ramesh just could not gather who is Spiritual and what is spirituality. Is it the Guru who he met in the ashram who has ocean of knowledge by reading various scriptures, the enormous practice that he has done, the congeraression on he speaks, his friend Dev who found his way with absolute simplicity in the midst of an extremely busy life or was it Gopal alias Rahim who dedicated everything to the call of love and joy.

One thing that came again and again , there are many paths to the mountain, all would lead to the top. One just needs to stop circling around the base of the mountain and not tell people which road is easier or the best route to take.

Almost forgot to mention, the interview and the topic was never published because Ramesh realised that the sanity and sacredness that he has gathered during the trip was far beyond the understanding of many. This journey of spirituality is individual and can be quantifiable only through direct experience. He has moved to India within one year of that encounter and has opened sports academy for the under privileged kids where he gives shelter and food.

#spiritualjourney #follow my blog #new to blogging #writeblogging #blog post #Write your feelings #excerpt from a story i'll never write #Alan Watts #sri nisargadatta maharaj #writeaway #followmypage #following my dreams

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umbrisanimussempiternam · 4 years

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Creature of The Night

I have always been a bit of an insomniac, but ever since something happened recently in my life - or rather, I was told about this thing - I have been getting less and less sleep at night. I work sporadic hours ever since this pandemic started and I know that isn’t helping things. I am not as busy as I once was, which I often mentally complained about. I now regret all those mental complaints - maybe all that activity would finally give me some peace and quiet inside my head. I work a job that had me going literally 24/7 and now due to pay/hour cuts, I am finding I have more time than I know what to do with. I guess that’s why I am writing here - to have some kind of outlet into the internet where no one knows who I am and what I am about to write in this post.

I can’t not talk about it anymore - it’s been slowly choking me.

To start, a little background/history. I have always had a rocky relationship with my mother. Actually, that’s putting it delicately. My relationship with my mom was TERRIBLE for several years. It has only recently (round about three-ish years) been getting better. I guess it makes sense - that was around the same time my mom’s second-eldest sister died. It hadn’t taken too long, only about a year and a half for her cancer to consume her. My mom’s eldest sister died a little over a year after that and my grandmother (my mom’s mother) a year after her. I guess you can say that all of those deaths in the family have been forcing us together. I must say, they did a better job at helping us communicate than my mom when she would literally lock me in my bedroom with her and make me stay there until we solved whatever was going on. Great parenting, mother.

But I digress and now I know the “reason” behind the bad parenting and all of the hard times we had.

The fourth of July of this year was when my mom told me. I am still having a hard time processing it over two months later. For reference, I won’t use real names, but I will use random letters to the key people involved.

My “uncle” - J

My aunt (my “uncle’s” wife) and my mom’s eldest sister - R

My grandmother - L

So, fourth of July rolls around. I usually would have been out with friends on that day, but due to the pandemic, I decided to go to my parent’s house to visit my mother (my father was working that day) and my cat. We got to talking like we do a lot more of now - those deep talks she would always have with my sibling that I would be jealous of, but never wanted to partake in. We got on the subject of healing the family. It’s been quite broken with all of the recent deaths and all of the things people somehow never say until it is too late.

For another little tidbit of backstory, you should know that my mother and her siblings were all abused by their father - L’s husband. Mentally, emotionally, physically, and yes - sexually. L had six kids and nowhere to go, so she began to work night shifts at an office, leaving her kids with that horrible man. My mother was six the last time her father sexually abused her. He was a drunk, a low-life and I am glad he is dead so that I don’t ever have to try to forgive him for what he did to my family.

When my mother was just turned seven; she, her brothers and sisters and her mother all moved away from him. But the damage had already been done. R couldn’t have anyone touch her for the pain that she would feel everywhere - a burning sensation that spread from the inside-out. My mothers brothers all had resentment towards L, my mother’s second eldest sister had resentment towards everyone, but they stayed in each other’s lives. I cannot say if that was for the worst or not.

My mom was twelve years younger than her eldest sister - R. Right around the time they moved away from the monster that was their father and husband, R was proposed to by J. Even though R couldn’t be touched, even though she probably could never bare their own children, J married her. Everyone thought of him as the most amazing, perfect man for marrying R. They lived in a little house in Northern California, went to church every weekend, and my mom would go to visit them every summer.

Every summer. It all started when she was nine. I can only imagine - though I wish not to - what J did to her. You see, since he couldn’t get his nut out with his wife, he assaulted my mother. Every summer she went up there. For weeks on end, she was at his mercy - a nine-year-old girl who only knew to turn to her mother for help. When my mother finally told L a couple of years into the abuse, she was informed that it must have been her own fault. L chose this monster - the second one in my mom’s short life - over her. All because L liked J and couldn’t imagine him as the no-words-in-the-human-or-heavenly-or-down-in-the-depths-of-hell-languages kind of man he really was.

L knew what my mom had gone through with her ex-husband. J knew what they had all gone through and my mother was not an exception. J knew what had happened to her already in her short life and decided to go and do it anyways. Repeatedly. For YEARS!! I cannot fathom how my mother is still alive. More so - I cannot believe HE is.

No one knows but these few people - L (who as stated before, is now dead), my mother, my father, me and (obviously) J. I have not the strength to tell my sibling - who by the way has been suicidal for years. Telling them now... I don’t know what that would do and I will not let myself be an only child. No way in hell.

I grew up with J around me. I can’t tell you how many times I was in the very house - the very ROOM - my mother was assaulted in. Now I know why my sibling and I never went up north without one or both of my parents there. My parents never left my sibling or myself alone with the man and it never registered in my mind until my mother told me about all of this. He was a man that I trusted, a man who I thought to be amazing for loving my aunt even though he could never be with her the way he probably wanted to. R, he respected. Her sister, not so much. It’s a mask that I hope to one day rip away and show the world what he truly is.

There is just one roadblock in all of this. Well, two, really. My cousins. See, what I haven’t mentioned before is that R and J adopted two kids. The reason I have stayed silent this long is because... well I don’t know how it would feel in reality, but I can only imagine the pain of knowing the man who raised you - the man you trusted - was a child molester and rapist. A man who affected forever how my mom, my sibling and myself see the world. I can’t. But someday I’ll have to explain to my family why I can never ever go to a gathering he will be attending. Why I could never look J in the eyes again without imagining my mother’s face as a child reflected in them. I would throw up on him. I feel nauseous as it is just thinking about J now, even with him over a thousand miles away and not having seen him in over a year and a half.

One of the reasons my mother didn’t tell her family was because she knew how it would destroy her sister and it probably wouldn’t have turned out good for my mom back then. It definitely would have divided our family between those who wanted to stay close to L and those who would have stayed by my mother’s side. The second reason ties into the first. My mom thought - and still thinks - since L didn’t validate her story or pain that no one else would believe her. And who could blame her?! Her own MOTHER didn’t give a rat’s ass about her pain - didn’t believe her. The one person who was supposed to love my mom and protect her no matter what had failed her. Again.

The reason I won’t say anything yet breaks down into two things as well. The first is that my mother isn’t ready. God, it’s been 40 years and I don’t blame her at all for not being able to process what happened to her. The second reason is that I know what it will do to my family. Most, if not all, will be on my mother’s side now. That’s part of the problem though. I know what it would do to J’s kids - my cousins. I don’t care that they are not technically blood relatives, I would protect those two with my own life. The eldest is already worried about being the “black sheep of the family” even though there is nothing they have done that will ever come close to earning them that title. I can’t think of what this will do to them - both of them. I am scared they would feel ashamed to show their face to our family again. I can’t go the rest of my life without seeing them.

So for now, I don’t really have a choice. I will have to wait until the day of justice finally dawns upon J.

The absolute worst part about this for me? I don’t know what to do until then. Actually, I don’t know what to do even after that. I don’t know how to move on, how to let go - how to SLEEP. I can’t even sleep at night for Christ’s sake!! It evades me now more than ever. I constantly feel like when I turn my light off and roll over; close my eyes - I will feel someone grab me from behind. J is an all consuming entity now and I don’t how to expel him from my waking or sleeping mind.

If there is one point I want to make with this post - it’s this.

Trust your kids.

Put your biases aside and believe them when they tell you they are in pain. L HATED and blatantly showed her dislike for my father even though he did nothing and has done nothing but love and cherish my mother. Not once has he hit or abused - emotionally or physically. However, L adored J and she showed it openly. I cannot fathom what makes a mother choose someone else over her own child, but I am here now telling you it’s possible. So please, I implore of you, if any child comes to you with pain - any pain - help them for God’s sake.

I ask this of you because the reverberations of neglect have rippled through my mother and passed into me. I know how it feels and I would not wish it on my worst enemy.

Well, maybe J.

#blog #familyblog #pain #abuse #lifeis #complicated #anonymous #familylife #stop #hurting #children #family #life #is #messy #lifeismessy

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kessielrg · 4 years

Text

[Kingdom Hearts] Cycles

Summary: I have no excuses for this. There is no point for this to exist. And yet, here we both are; a super self indulgent slice of life/stuck in quarantine fic written over the course of 8 hours. Featuring, but not limited to, a shameless VentusxOC ship, Vanitas being a simp, bashing fellow classmates, and the awkwardness of having a headstrong on-again-off-again girlfriend. Oneshot. Modern AU.

Rating: K+

Word Count: 2,660

If you enjoyed this story, please reblog!

If Ventus had his way, he'd probably sleep for the rest of the day. Everything had been in lockdown since March. Now in June that initial joy of having time to spare had worn thin. He'd be lying if he said he didn't try to sleep for the entirety of May. He'd also be lying if he said that he hadn't been skipping meals here and there as well. Not that anyone could really stop him; Aqua was considered an essential employee and still worked a 40 hour workweek. Terra's job had mandated him to be there every other week. Then there was just Ven himself and his twin Vanitas, who had no job and certainly had no interest to do so at this time.

As Ven contemplated at least doing laundry for the day, his phone started to ring. He recognized the number and immediately answered it.

“Hello?” he said, hoping that he didn't sound as tired as he felt.

“Hey Ven.” the voice of his on-again-off-again girlfriend Sabrina greeted. While it wasn't the most melodious of voices (if anything, she could get shrill quickly), it was still a comfort to hear her voice on the other end.

“Is something wrong?” Ven then asked.

“No.” came the little hum. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Even though he figured she wasn't quite telling him the truth, it didn't stop the humble blush from appearing on his face.

Ventus had met Sabrina way back during junior high open house night. They really hadn't talked much during those years, though. Sabrina had enough energy to be the poster child for the next Energizer Bunny. There were days when Ven simply couldn't keep up with her no matter how hard he tried. It was an accidental kiss during prom in tenth grade that launched their relationship into high drive. Or, it would have, had Sabrina not have a slight lingering fear of commitment.

They were currently in their 'on' cycle at the moment. Which, in and of itself, was a miracle due to the craziness of the plague known as COVID-19. Just like how everyone thought the virus would be dealt with in a month's time, Ven was sure that three months into quarantine and Sabrina would have decided it was time for them to split again. But she didn't- possibly because they were both each other's source of sanity from their rather large households. Ven sometimes wondered if it was because they weren't actually 'together' like they would have without a virus going around, or if she genuinely hated being stuck at home.

“What'cha doing today?” Sabrina then asked.

“Oh, I dunno.” Ven carefully admitted. “Try to hide from Vanitas, maybe make dinner with Aqua. I think Terra's working on the pool so he can have some place to exercise since he can't go to the gym.” He paused for a moment before warily adding, “What are you doing?”

“Thinking I'm gonna come over to your house.”

Ven's heart suddenly jolted into his throat. “You can't do that!” he immediately blurted.

“Why not?” came the rather callous reply.

“Because we're in quarantine!”

Ven hated that he could hear her give a little click of her tongue. He hated it even more when she said, “Have you been anywhere in the past week?”

“No.”

“Has anyone else?”

Knowing where this conversation was going, Ven let out a hard sigh. “No...”

“Then I'm coming over.” she decided with certainty. “Give me about 10 minutes. I still need to get in the shower.”

Ven let out another exasperated sigh as he buried his face in his hands. It was useless trying to convince Sabrina otherwise. It was one of the things that he both loved and hated about her.

“Be safe on the ride over. Please?” he then requested. “Terra's said that the folks that are still on the road are crazier than the normal traffic.”

Sabrina snorted. “That's because they're stir crazy. Or suicidal because they're essential employees. About the same, really.”

“Please be careful.” Ven repeated, this time with a bit more pleading in his voice.

“I'll be just as careful as I was when we played seven minutes in heaven at Kairi's birthday party.” Sabrina informed him- he could almost hear the cheeky grin she had on her face while she said it too. “Byyyye~!”

And just like that, the line went dead, and Ven was sure that his blush was even darker than before. He glanced over at his clock. If Sabrina was coming over, he might as well take a quick shower. Goodness knows how long he's worn the pair of lounge pants he had on. It was time for a change anyway.

. . .

Terra unscrewed the cap of his water bottle with a near prejudice. The sips he took where long and even more angered as he downed nearly the entirety of the bottle's contents in a few seconds. Why did they even have an above ground pool if no one else was going to take care of it? The water was green enough to be called a swamp, the filter pump had a busted part somewhere, and he was almost certain at this point that the pool itself had a tear somewhere. He wasn't going to lie, Terra was ready to give up and resign to a fate of playing Wii Fit until the lockdown let up.

“Aqua must be getting quite the eyeful from her bedroom right about now.”

Recognizing the voice, Terra paused and looked toward the drive lane. Still sitting there in her convertible was Sabrina. She had sunglasses over her eyes, but her teasing smirk was as clear as day. Terra's face fell before deciding to go over to his best friend's noncommittal girlfriend.

“Top knots don't work on you.” he informed her in a toneless voice. At this, the smirk was instantly wiped off of her face. She even absently placed a hand on said top knot that was actually doing a pretty decent job of keeping her raven black hair out of her face. A scowl then found its way onto her features. Terra perfectly ignored all of it.

“Ven didn't say you were coming over.” he instead said to her.

“That's because I invited myself.”

“How did I not guess...” Terra muttered under his breath. “You do know we're in lockdown, right?”

“Urg, not you too.” the young woman grumbled. “Look, I have a box full of clothes here somewhere. I could practically live here if I felt like it.”

The look Terra gave her silently passed the message that they both knew she wouldn't.

“So,” Terra started to say just to change the subject, “Are you taking Ven with you, or...”

“Ha! You're not that lucky this time.” the younger of the two laughed. “I'm staying here.”

“For how long?”

At this, Sabrina tilted her sunglasses at him. “Remember that box of clothes I mentioned earlier? Still relevant.”

Terra shook his head. He couldn't argue against it- he had other things to do than bicker with a self appointed princess.

“The door's unlocked.” he instead said. “Just keep your shoes at the door, Aqua's been on a cleaning streak since quarantine started.”

“Thanks muscle head.” Sabrina cheekily agreed as she shut her car's engine off.

Sabrina absolutely loved -and conversely was very jealous of- the house Ven and his friends lived in. Deeded to Aqua and Terra after the latter's adoptive father passed, the spacious farmhouse boasted four full bedrooms and an incredibly beautiful kitchen. It had also become a near second home to her since she and Ven started to hang out. There was even the bonus of not having four year old sextuplet adoptive siblings running around. Who would say no to that?

Heading straight to the game room, Sabrina entered the room without so much announcing she had arrived. Ven didn't notice; he was working over by the TV, making sure that both the Roku and Xbox were plugged in. Sabrina offered him a small smile before heading to the couch. She flopped herself down, landing on her back and making herself comfortable not long after. When Ven finally turned around to look for the remote controls, he nearly jumped out of his skin seeing his girlfriend casually lounging on the couch.

“Draw me like one of your french girls, Jack.” Sabrina even teased. Ven almost immediately looked away again, his face flushed and a hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“You're early.” he noted as he went over to the couch.

“Are you kidding?” she snorted. “I couldn't get here fast enough.”

“Traffic bad?” Ven asked before bending down to give her a small kiss.

Sabrina shook her head as he then sat down next to her. “Too loud at home.” She looked up at the ceiling and let out a hard sigh. “They're sooo bored, and there's nothing we can really do about it than let them do whatever all day. Or hang them from the ceiling. I'm down for that. Ozzie, though? Not so much.”

“You know, it would be a lot quieter if you went to Kairi and Namine's house.” Ven gently told her as he reached for a remote. He turned the TV on, filling the room with the noises of some news channel. Ven quickly changed it.

“Nah.” Sabrina disagreed with a flick of her hand. “If I was gonna do that, I'd go over to Ephemer's. He lives closer to me than anyone else. But he's too busy threewaying with Skuld and that super quiet kid of 3-C.” A small look of thought crossed Sabrina's face as she considered something. She tilted her head up to look at Ven. “What is their gender by the way?”

Ven gave a small half shrug. It didn't really matter to him.

“Maybe they're like Xion and identify as nonbinary?”

“I guess.” came the sighing agreement. Sabrina relaxed her head, then carefully turned it to look at the TV. “You've got a game plan today, or nah?”

Ventus tilted his head to the side a little in thought, but when he opened his mouth to answer, he was cut off by someone else.

“He's going to watch me sweep you off your feet, obviously.”

Both Sabrina and Ventus turned their attention to see Vanitas at the doorway. Seeing him caused a rather unnerved smirk to appear on the young woman's face.

“In your dreams, Vanitas.” she told him- her voice was sickeningly sweet, but still held an edge that the dark haired boy ignored. Despite this, Vanitas also came toward the couch.

“Come on Wabi-Sabi, give me a little chance.” he teased, passing by Ven with full knowledge that his older twin would do nothing to stop him.

“I did.” Sabrina countered as she folded her arms. “And you used it to say you were Ven.”

“It was an honest attempt.”

“I was nearly expelled.” Ven cut in. His voice was a bit darker now as well.

Vanitas only shrugged. “C'est la vie of a twin.”

It was almost unnoticeable, but both Ventus and Sabrina gave him a low growl.

“You really wanna do something for me?” Sabrina asked him in a sweet voice, raising her leg up to his eye range. Vanitas did not hesitate to place a gentle hand near her ankle and give it a kiss.

“Of course, my lady.” Vanitas purred.

“Then make me and Ven a pizza.” she informed him, lightly kicking his chest. “A real one too- not whatever frozen monstrosity that's been at the back of your freezer since the last Joe Corbi's.”

Vanitas grunted, all but swatting her foot away in frustration, before leaving the living room. Sabrina looked rather pleased with herself. She tilted her head up to look at Ven again.

“You're welcome.” she grinned.

“He'll be back in an hour.”

Her grin immediately became a grimace. “See if I care.”

And with that, Ventus turned on the Xbox and started to play whatever game had been left in it last. Sabrina made a few adjustments to her sitting position to better watch him. A peaceful silence came between them as Ven played his game. Occasionally, unconsciously, Sabrina would look up at Ven for a moment before looking back at the TV.

“Who would you date if you didn't have me?”

“Oh, I dunno.” Ventus replied, barely looking away from his game. Which meant that his answers were going to be half-hearted at best. “Strelitzia's kinda cute, I guess. But her brother seems kinda scary if you so much look at her funny. And I know for a fact that Namine definitely wouldn't treat me like you do.”

“That's 'cuz Namine's too shy, whereas I'm...”

“Bossy?”

“A boss.”

To this, Ven smirked. “Not the word I would have used.” he teasingly mused. “But alright.”

Sabrina gave him a fake gasp. She immediately sat up and took the controller straight out of Ven's hand- lightly tossing it to the floor.

“Hey!” Ven declared, turning to face her. But he stopped all thought processes when he realized just how close she had placed her face next to his. Ven could feel his breathing hitch and his heart beat faster the longer he looked into her chocolate brown eyes.

“You're so mean to me.” he whispered in a near husk. Sabrina only offered a teasing grin.

“You love it.” she insisted before leaning closer to him. Ven mirrored her, closing the distance between them. When they could just barely brush their lips against the others, Sabrina suddenly pulled away.

“Wait, do you smell that?”

Confused, his mind wanting other things, Ventus paused and started to sniff the air. The duo tried to figure out what exactly they were smelling. It was almost like the smell of freshly baked bread and tomato sauce.

“Oh my god.” Sabrina marveled when she realized what it was. She turned to Ven with a wide, thoroughly bemused grin. “He's actually doing it. Vanitas is actually making us a pizza.”

“You.” Ven corrected. “He's making you a pizza.”

“You know I'll share.”

“Assuming he makes enough to share.”

“Should've told him to make it 9 inches.” Sabrina then noted, sitting up as the moment of intimacy had passed at the distraction. “If he's the desperate to actually make a pizza by scratch, then he's desperate enough to pull out a ruler to make it exactly 9 inches too.”

“You just enjoy stringing all of us along, don't you?” Ventus wondered before he could stop himself. Hearing it made Sabrina pause for a moment. She looked at him with a rather demeaning raise of her eyebrow.

“Even if I am,” she said, “You're still kind to me. Not sure who's the bigger idiot; you or me.”

“Maybe both.” he suggested in a soft voice.

Sabrina looked away. “Yeah… Maybe.”

A small silence fell on them after this. Unlike before, it wasn't a good one.

“Let's make Vanitas jealous.” Ventus suddenly suggested.

Sabrina jumped in her spot. She looked back at him with wide eyes. He looked back at her with almost the same expression- apparently even more shocked that he would say such a thing.

“Are you serious?” Sabrina questioned, a bemused grin etching its way on her face.

Ven looked at her for a moment. The idea was… rather tempting, actually. It wouldn't have been the first time that they were caught making out. Let alone the first time they wanted someone to find out that they were. He looked back up at her and gave a firm nod. “Dead serious.” he affirmed.

“You're such a bad-” Sabrina started to say, but Ven had cut her off with a heated kiss. The rest of her sentence was murmured into his lips. As the kiss deepened, Ven carefully laid Sabrina down on the couch to further continue their antics in comfort.

Quarantine be damned, making out was fun.

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noodlekugel · 5 years

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The King Premiere in NYC - October 1, 2019

Last week, I went to the NY Premiere of The King at the SVA Theatre. Tumblr has eaten this post at least 3 times, so I apologize for the delay.

All pictures above are mine - please do not re-post without credit.

Below is a summary of my experience, and a brief review of the film.

Where to begin? First off, I was fortunate enough to get tickets to The King just as Timothée crashed Gofobo. The few days leading up to the premiere, I was riddled with anxiety - I was torn between waiting at the red carpet, or waiting in line for the screening, since neither was a guarantee. The film was going to be on Netflix within the next month so I’d get a chance to see it fairly soon, but we didn’t have that much information about whether the cast would be talking at the screenings themselves. Fortunately, the venue made my mind up for me - they set up one line, and only allowed ticket holders at the barricades for the red carpet.

I arrived earlier for this than I’d care to admit (the time was PM, but not that much after noon...), and was about 20th in line, which became 40th after the folks ahead of me let their plus ones join them. We were told there was room for about 40-50 people at the red carpet, but the people running the screening promised those around me that we’d make the cut.

So, the waiting began. I made some friends in line, some people I’d met before through Tumblr, Instagram and Facebook, and some new friends. Everyone around me spent the next six hours bonding over our shared love of all things Timothée and Call Me By Your Name (because of course that’s how we all truly discovered him, even if we’d seen him in other projects before). I also met a few people who had commented on my fics in the past, and I outed myself to them, which is still feels like a weird thing for me to do.

Around 6PM, they started letting us line up at the red carpet. Thankfully, they handed us physical tickets for the film, which included seat assignments (!!!), which relieved so much of the stress that most of us were feeling about finding seats inside once we left the red carpet. My seats had a pretty terrible view of the screen, but they were free, so beggars can’t be choosy.

We got lucky, and @all-things-all-the-time and I got space on the barricade, close to the entrance of the theater. Much to our surprise, Timothée’s parents, Nicole and Marc, stood on the red carpet directly in front of us for about an hour. This is where I will now proclaim my fandom of Marc Chalamet (more on this later). He seemed so warm and talked with us for a little while. The folks from Netflix, or whomever were hosting the screening, gave out t-shirts (see my pictures above), which was a pleasant surprise.

Lily was the first to walk the red carpet. She spent some time down on our end, and we had a conversation with her about her dress, during which she was endlessly worried about creasing it. Notice in one of my pictures above, the back is slightly creased, but... we’re all human. I’m sure everything I wear is always creased, so I am not judging her at all for worrying about that... After she finished walking the red carpet, she spent time standing with Timothée’s parents, and chatted with Marc in French until her two friends arrived. When Pauline got to the red carpet, she gave Lily a warm hug (Lily’s back was to us, so I don’t know what her reaction was), and then attacked her parents with hugs and kisses. We heard her say multiple times how handsome both her father and brother looked. Also, she was wearing an awesome scarf with skulls on it, and wore sneakers to the red carpet, a move I can 100% get behind.

Eventually, Timothée made it to the red carpet, to screams comparable only to Beatlemania. Honestly, I felt verklempt, having watched his meteoric rise over the past two years. This was his first hometown premiere since Call Me By Your Name at the New York Film Festival. We asked his parents how they felt, and Marc said it was surreal. He entered on the opposite end from where we were standing, and he was surrounded by guards, media doing interviews, and photographers, so it took at least a half hour until he got to our end, with two jaunts outside of the red carpet, one across the street and one down the block to where other crowds had gathered.

In my many years of going to concerts and theater and events with celebrities, I’ve never seen a celebrity spend more time with fans or act more gracious and humble than Timothée did. I think this is why I’ve stuck around the fandom for so long - he just seems so genuinely happy to take the time with every fan, of which there were hundreds. Unfortunately, when he made it to our end, he was being whisked off inside of the premiere, so he could only sign things quickly and take selfies without making much conversation. I did get a selfie (I’m not going to post it here, but I’ll share my pictures privately if you message me), but wasn’t able to get my copy of Call Me By Your Name signed, which I had gotten signed by Andre Aciman earlier in the year.

He promised he’d come back, but was pulled away and never allowed back outside, which was not his fault. When March realized that Timothée hadn’t signed @all-things-all-the-time ‘s fantastic embroidery hoop, he asked her if she had a pen, and chased him down so he could sign it for her. When he came back outside a minute later, in his adorable French accent, Marc apologized that Teeeee-mo-tay had stolen her pen. She can tell her own story better, but it ended with Marc giving her a hug.

So, once the red carpet was over, we were told to go inside of the theater. David quickly introduced the movie, pointed at the cast in the audience (Timmy did a dance move that I am too old to actually know but I think is called hit the woah?), and then they started the screening. He quickly left the theater to head to the Quad Cinema screenings a bit downtown.

As for the film, I’ll try to give a spoiler-free review since it’s not out for the public to see yet. Honestly, this wasn’t my favorite movie. Each piece of the film was fine, but this kind of movie is just not my cup of tea. I don’t generally like war movies, and I don’t love historical dramas about monarchies battling for their land and their people. Timothée had a very strong and nuanced performance. He carried the emotional weight of the film on his shoulders, and ably showed Hal/Henry in all forms, from immature and defiant prince to powerful and resolute king. Lily has maybe five minutes of screen time, at the end of the movie. I really like Thomasin McKenzie, and she has a few scenes at the beginning of the film as his younger sister.

The stunt work and the battle sequences were well-choreographed and fun to watch, but I did feel like the movie could have been a half hour shorter. I think Robert Pattinson was my favorite part of the movie besides Timothée - his accent was over-the-top and the performance was flamboyant, but it worked for me. Each scene he was in garnered the biggest reactions from my audience, aside from the applause at the end when Timmy’s name came across the screen.

Overall, I didn’t dislike the film, but it’s not my favorite of the Timmy canon. If you’re a Timothée fan or a fan of historical epics, I recommend seeing it on a big screen, but otherwise, watch it on Netflix (but... definitely see it somehow). I did, however, have a wonderful time at the premiere, and can’t wait for the next film and the next event!

#Timothee Chalamet #timothée chamalet #timmy #the king #the king netflix

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wingsofkpop · 5 years

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Finding SKZ - 6: FL00

pairing(s): Hybrid!Bang Chan x Reader, Hybrid!SKZ x Reader

genre: Hybrid!AU, Dystopian!AU, lots of Angst, spoonful of Fluff, eventual Smut

warning(s): Mature language, verbal abuse, mentions of physical abuse, flashbacks, mentions of death

word count: 5k

synopsis: After rescuing an abandoned hybrid from his fate of death, he has one other favor to ask of you. Not only do you have to find his eight other hybrid brothers, but you have to keep them safe from the deadly dangers of your city: Miroh

chapter directory

The Third World War sparked almost a century ago after the leak of a secret terrorist operation against what was known in the Old World as Europe. To this day, the origination of the group, nicknamed R.U.I.N.S., is still unknown. Members of R.U.I.N.S. first began their nuclear attack in London, Britain, where they wiped out nearly 60% of the population as well as completely demolished the lands. The remaining 40% either fled to neighboring countries or died out due to the dangerous aftermaths of the bomb, usually sickness from lingering toxic chemicals or starvation. R.U.I.N.S. moved on to spread the genocide to the rest of Europe and were met with strong resistance from world superpowers such as Saudi Arabia, China, Japan, the United States and Russia. Unfortunately, the influence of the terrorist group spread and planted corruption in the superpower’s government, which would eventually lead to the outbreak of a full fledged nuclear war that killed 95% of the world population, known today as the Mass Genocide…

You lean away from your laptop screen with a sigh, a dull ache lingering within your eyes. For the past few hours, you had been writing, more like trying to write the research paper your professor had assigned a couple days ago. You wanted to get it out of the way in order to study for the rest of your finals which started this upcoming Friday.

You meant to do it during the weekend, but you were a little preoccupied with helping your two new additions settle in. The office/extra bedroom had become way too crowded, especially considering you could only fit a twin bed and a tiny air mattress in there. As a solution, you went out and purchased one of those pull out sofas. The one in your living room was old and rotting anyway so it didn’t make much of a difference to you. Plus, it was either that or give up your own bed, and you don’t know if you’re ready to do that just yet.

Lifting your arms high above your head, your tense muscles loosen as the sickening cracks of underused bones enter your ears. Relaxed, you slide your laptop off your lap and do the same with your legs. Just as you were about to force yourself back into the historical world, your bedroom door opens.

You lift your gaze to watch Hyunjin walk through the doorway, two mugs within his hands. He offers you the pastel yellow one, which you accept with a sigh of gratitude. The fragrance of your favorite tea enters your nostrils and your stomach is already filled with the ghostly warmth of the drink. After taking a well-earned sip, you hum, “Thanks, Jinnie.”

“You’re welcome, noona. Woojin-hyung said you haven’t left your room in hours.”

“Yeah,” You nod, gesturing to your computer, “I have to write this paper before Friday. Sorry, I haven’t really been around that much today.”

Hyunjin shakes his head while taking a sip from his own cup, “Don’t apologize. We know how busy you are this week.”

Your heart melts at the young hybrid’s words. With a smile, you reach up to caress Hyunjin’s cropped ears. The fur beneath your fingertips is like velvet. Hyunjin releases a breath of satisfaction, leaning more into your pet. Originally, you had been wary to touch his ears, seeing as Chan had made the comment that his original owner altered their shape. But Hyunjin had quickly waved your worry away and welcomed your affection. As did most of the boys.

“I see who the favorite is in this family.” Seungmin grumbles from the doorway, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. “You’ve barely been here three days and are already getting all the attention.”

“It’s not my fault I’m cuter than you,” Hyunjin chuckles, saluting his younger brother with a lift of his mug.

Seungmin sends him a playful growl before crossing the room and plopping on your other side. He pulls your phone from his pocket and points to the screen, “I think I found more about Felix. For real this time.”

When Seungmin said he found Felix last Saturday morning, it wasn’t him. Nor were the other four Lee Felix’s he found. Since you kind of ran out of options, you guys agreed on the conclusion that whoever bought him probably changed his last name or something. That really hasn’t made your search any easier, considering there were a lot of Lee Felixs as it is, but there are even more Felixs.

“Oh yeah? Let’s see.”

“So I found three possible houses,” Seungmin pulls up a web page depicting the owners of a home near where your dad lives. He allows you to skim through the information while continuing, “The first one has records of a cat hybrid called Felix that has lived with them for about a year now. The other two are the same, except one records residence for about five months and the last one of two and a half years. All of them are how old Felix would be now.”

Hyunjin hums, “You’re sure one of these could be him?”

Seungmin shrugs, “Surer than the last ones. It’s not a hundred percent but it doesn’t hurt to try.”

“Okay,” You nod and turn back to face the beagle hybrid. “What’s the plan this time?”

“I was talking to Woojin-hyung and Chan-hyung and they thought it’d be best if we split up and go to the homes ourselves.”

Hesitance immediately fills your veins at his recount. It’s not that you were against going straight to the houses, you’ve done that before, you just didn’t like the whole ‘splitting up’ part. The idea of some of the hybrids traveling through the streets of Miroh without you at their side didn’t sit well within your stomach. In fact, it made you sick. Look at the whole thing that happened with Chan back at the circus. You really didn’t want a repeat of that again.

“I don’t know, Min… That’s a little-”

“-Woojin-hyung would go with Hyunjinnie, and Channie-hyung with me. You’ll have nothing to worry about, noona.”

Your eyebrows furrow, “So that means…”

Hyunjin nods, “You’re with Minho-hyung. Channie-hyung originally wanted to go with you, but the rest of us thought that it would be better divided this way.”

In your thoughts, you fail to notice the knowing look both Hyunjin and Seungmin send one another, complete with raised eyebrows and mischievous smirks. Since you were paired with the coyote hybrid, that means you have to be with him… alone. Lucky for you, Minho kept his promise and didn’t tell anyone about what happened in the alleyway or about the things you said. But that doesn’t mean he’s not going to inquire about such things further on his own terms.

“I mean… I guess that’s fine.” You shrug, glancing toward the screen of your laptop. “Whatever works.”

Seungmin nods, “Good. Chan said you don’t have class or work on Tuesday, so were figured we could try then.”

“Yeah, sure.” Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you reach for your computer and position your fingers across the keys. “Sorry guys, I really need to finish this.”

“It’s fine, noona.” Hyunjin sends you a sweet smile before tugging Seungmin toward the door. “Don’t stress yourself out and enjoy your drink.”

Only when the door shuts behind them with a click do you free the building anxiety budding within your chest. You toss the laptop away once again and bury your face into your palms. A deep sigh spills from your lips and echoes through your bedroom. The sound couldn’t compare to the loudness of your thoughts.

You’ve kept everything a secret for so long, but like most, you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep it forever.

***

Tuesday came a lot quicker than you really wanted it to. Then again, you did spend most of your time suffering through schoolwork.

Before everyone went their separate ways, Chan made sure to give Minho a long spewl of making sure nothing dangerous happens to you. You, still embarrassed about the whole bathroom encounter, didn’t have it in you to relay your favorite ‘I can take care of myself’ line. It’s not like you were purposely avoiding Chan, you just happened to have a lot of work you needed to get done… C’mon, you can’t even lie to yourself.

Your original plan was to stay away from Chan for a bit to let whatever spur-of-the-moment hormones dissipate. But your plan definitely backfired because the longer you were away from him, the more you thought about him. His soft, blonde curls. His gentle touch. His deep brown, shimmering eyes. And the more these thoughts took over your mind, the greater your fear grew. You were supposed to be protecting him and the boys. And thinking about him in such ways was only doing more harm than good. Even if you were behind closed doors, the two of you would still get hurt. They couldn’t stay with you forever. They had to leave someday.

Still, you so desperately wanted to be selfish.

A blaring horn awakens you from your thoughts and reminds you of your current setting. You were sat in the back of a taxi with Minho beside you, currently staring out the window. His fluffy auburn, pointed ears were hidden beneath the hood of a new black sweatshirt you bought him. When you gave it to him, he claimed he didn’t want it and would never wear it. Guess he forgot.

“The sweatshirt looks nice,” You murmur softly, reaching across the space between the two of you to tug on his sleeve. Minho flinches away from your touch and turns his head to send you a warning glance. Defeated, you retract your hand and retire your attention to the passing scenery outside your own window. So much for good terms.

Bungalow houses pass by your vision in blurs, each one more different than the last. The Felix you and Minho were heading to see actually lived near your father’s neighborhood. Obviously, you wouldn’t be paying him and his family a visit, but it’s nice to see familiarity for once. Plus if things go bad, you actually had transportation to get home.

The cab driver pulls the car to a stop after a couple more houses and a smaller, red brick and pine wooded home stands in front of you. From its size, you could tell it didn’t have too many bedrooms, maybe one or two, and on top of that, not many rooms at all. The front yard was well kept and filled with various decorations like creepy gnomes and plastic flamingos. There was a single Jeep in the driveway. A good sign.

You pay your driver and follow Minho as he exits the vehicle. You almost want to laugh as he eyes the lawn ornaments with distaste. You settle with a hidden smile instead.

The two of you make your way up the driveway, silent except for the gravel crunching beneath your every step. Minho had not spoken a word since you left the apartment and it was beginning to frustrate you. You knew he still had questions, so why wouldn’t he just ask? Why does he have to let you suffer?

“We’re college students, remember? And we’re interviewing them for a research project.” You turn to see if Minho acknowledged your reminder at all, but once again, you’re only met with the side of his face. A huff pushes past your lips and you quicken your pace to the front door, Minho allows you to go ahead and you wonder if he’s purposely doing it to make you wait.

You shake your head, “Ready?”

The hybrid just shrugs.

That’s answer enough for you to raise your hand and rap your knuckles against the door. You barely wait thirty seconds until the obstacle swings open and reveals a short, pudgy and older woman. Her face comforts to confusion, before a bright smile stretches across her face.

“Well isn’t this just a nice surprise!?”

Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard to you, too high-pitched and quirky. You conjure up a kind grin of your own and gesture between both you and Minho, “I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am, but my friend and I are doing a research project for our Biology class on hybrids living in residentials. We were wondering if you had one-?”

“-Oh yes! We do!” The woman turns back into the house and shouts something that has your ear drums splintering. You glance warily toward your companion before turning back just in time to see another figure enter the doorway.

And your face goes pale at the sight.

You didn’t know exactly what Felix looked like, but from Chan’s brief description, this hybrid looked pretty damn close. His hair was a shade of bright blonde, bringing more emphasis to the orange cat ears emerging from the sides of his head. He had a kind face with big brown eyes and rose colored lips. You could also see lines of freckles dotting across his cheekbones and down the arch of his nose.

It has to be him.

“This is Felix. Say hi to the nice students, honey.”

Felix doesn’t say a word, his eyes wide and centered straight at Minho. You peer over to see the coyote hybrid with a similar look, all except his lips were compressed into a straight line. You start to reach over to ground him, but a sudden yelp has your head snapping back toward the other pair.

“I’m not going to ask again, you little brat. Greet our guests.” Unlike before, her voice is mellow and full of warning. Your eyes trail down to see the woman clutching Felix’s wrist, his skin around her fingers a stark white. Felix inhales an unsteady breath before stuttering in a deep voice, “H-Hello…”

The woman smiles and nudges him into the house, “There we go. Now go be useful and make some tea. Come in, my dears, let’s talk about this project in the living room.”

Before you can decline her offer, the woman was already grabbing your wrist and dragging you through the doorway. You send Minho a terrified glance, who quickly lurches forward to grab your other hand. He shakes his head, “Miss, we don’t-”

“-Nonsense. We’ll discuss your project over some tea and cookies.” She doesn’t take no for an answer and quite literally, pulls both you and Minho inside. She seats the two of you in an old fashioned parlor filled with victorian style decorations. The couch you sit on is harder than a rock and very uncomfortable. Minho’s face gave away his pain too. You could only think of his poor tail right now.

The woman takes a seat in an armchair across from the two of you, pushing her glasses up her hooked nose. She smiles again and speaks, “You’ll have to forgive me, it’s been a while since I’ve had any visitors. Now tell me about this project.”

You go into this long detailed discussion about this fake project both you and Minho rehearsed beforehand, or you at least did. The woman believes every single word that leaves your lips, her eyes never straying from your talking form. You passed the strange feeling in your gut off as anxiety for Felix. But the goosebumps on your arms claimed otherwise.

“How wonderful. I’ll help you with anything you need!” The woman leans forward in her seat, reaches toward you and thumbs a loose lock of your hair. “My, what a pretty, little thing you are.”

Instantly, you recoil from her touch and scoot closer to Minho. You laugh awkwardly, trying not to physically cringe, “Oh, thank you…”

“My son would think you’re just absolutely divine. You should meet him!”

Minho feverishly shakes his head, “I don’t think-”

“-He gets home at five. You can stay until then.” The woman grins radiantly, oblivious to the expressions of shock on both you and Minho’s face. When Felix enters the room, she turns her head and nods, “Ah, good boy, Felix. Put the tray on the coffee table.”

Felix does as he’s asked, placing his porcelain tray on the table separating Minho and you from the adjacent woman. The cat hybrid goes about pouring a couple cups of tea and plating some cookies, his orange tail limp behind him.

“Cream or sugar, love?”

You shake your head, “Uh, no thank you.”

Felix hands you one of the teacups, his fingers brushing yours. You lift your eyes to meet his gaze and you feel your heart practically break in half. You’ve never seen so much sadness in a pair of eyes before, and it made you think back to how the woman was grabbing him. You immediately weren’t in the mood for tea.

“Perfect. Now let’s get on with this little interview.” The woman leans back in her chair and snaps her fingers. Felix sinks to his knees where he’s stood and takes his own seat on the floor. You eye the vacant chair next to the woman but don’t say a word.

Minho clears his throat, discomfort laced through the sound, and nods, “O-Okay… Well, how long have you been living with Felix?”

“Oh no, dear, you have that wrong.” The woman shakes a single gnarled finger toward the hidden hybrid, “Felix has been working for me for almost a year now.”

You can’t help but glance toward the boy. His eyes haven’t moved from the floor.

“Right…” Minho hums, “...How has that been?”

“Oh well, he tries, I suppose.” Your hostess shrugs and sends Felix a disappointed look. “In my opinion, human slaves were much better than hybrid ones.”

You try to suppress the anger burning within your core by digging your fingernails into your palms. Swallowing the retorts on your tongue, you send Minho yet another wary glance and force yourself to listen to the older woman’s words, “Sometimes we have some hiccups here and there, but-... Darling, aren’t you going to drink your tea?”

“I will, I just-”

“-Take a sip, love. Just one.” The intensity of the woman’s gaze sends chills coursing throughout your body. The weight of the cup between your fingers seemed to grow heavier and heavier. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Felix slightly shaking his head. His eyes wide with fright.

You shake your head with a small laugh, “Actually, I’m not-”

“-It’s rude to deny your hostess, darling. I said drink the tea.”

At her tone of voice, your hands began to shake. Memories flash within your mind like a firework show, a familiar voice taking over hers. Though your logic and common sense were screaming no, your body disobeys and soon the bitter liquid is cascading like gasoline down your throat. You regretted the decision as soon as you felt the tea sit within the depths of your stomach.

The smile returns to the woman’s face, “See, was that so bad? How was it?”

You nod, “Good. Very good.”

“Wonderful.”

A tense silence overtakes the atmosphere. You feel yourself cowering beneath the woman’s still smiling face. You slide your hand over to Minho’s knee, squeezing at the flesh in warning. He covers your hand with his, returns a gentle squeeze then rises from his seat, “I think we’re actually going to be leaving now.”

The woman pouts, “Already? My son hasn’t come home yet...”

“Miss, your son isn’t coming home.” All eyes turn to at Felix’s deep voice. He shrinks beneath the glare his owner sends his way, but he continues to speak, “He died a couple months ago. You know that.”

Goosebumps spread across your skin at the absolute fire burning within the woman’s eyes. She growls, “What do you know, you useless punk. You know nothing.”

“Don’t talk to him like that.” More gooseflesh arises when you turn to peer back at Minho. His second set of teeth was visible, showcasing his sharp incisors. He bares them toward her and hisses, “Felix-ssi, you’re coming with us. Let’s go.”

“You can’t! My son! I swear to the Lord I will…”

As you’re rising from your seat, a sudden wave of dizziness rushes over your body and dulls your senses. You could vaguely hear the woman threatening to call the police before your knees buckle and you collapse into Minho. The hybrid catches you, his face immediately contorting to concern, “(Y/N)-ah, what’s wrong?... (Y/N)-ah!”

“The tea. I laced it with a sedative.” Felix rushes forward, helping Minho keep you upright. Tears of panic were streaming down his face, he sobs, “I’m so sorry, hyung! I had to!”

“Shit, just… Hey!”

The last thing you hear before fading into darkness was a large crash and Felix’s scream.

***

You’re in a closet. The closet. Darkness cradling you like a blankets. The shadows are your guardians. They keep you hidden. They keep you safe.

Crash after crash. Scream after scream. Covering your ears does nothing. The sounds are engraved within your mind. You can’t escape.

“Somebody help me!...”

“Come here you fucking slut! I’ll teach you a fucking lesson!”

“Please! Stop-ah!...”

Tears spill down your cheeks like blood. You hide your face in the crease of your knees, which are pulled to your chest. It muffles your helpless sobs. In the dark. You are the darkness.

“(Y/N)!...”

“Shut up, pathetic whore! I’ll put you in the fucking ground, pathetic piece of shit!”

This nightmare will never end. Your demons follow everywhere you go.

You can’t escape.

“(Y/N)-ah?” Your eyes snap open at the call of your name. Minho’s face enters your vision which makes you realize you weren’t in a closet at all. He tilts his head, “(Y/N)-ah? Can you hear me?”

You nod, “Y-Yeah. I can.”

“Can you sit up?”

“I think so.”

With Minho’s support, you’re able to easily maneuver your body into a sitting position. A throbbing headache hits you head on (mind the pun). You clutch your head with a groan, feeling sick all of a sudden. It’s like that time you woke up after bar-hopping with your friends. Worst hangover ever.

When you manage to adjust to the pain, you take the chance to look at your current setting. You were in your bedroom, in your bed. Felix was sat in a chair a couple feet away from both you and Minho, his concerned eyes directed your way.

“I shouldn’t have drank that goddamn tea,” You groan, massaging at your pulsing temples. “What happened?”

“After you collapsed, shit hit the fan.” At Minho’s retort, you notice the small gash decorating his forehead. It didn’t look like it needed stitches which was a good thing. A really good thing considering the situation you are in. “We were able to lock her in a room long enough to get the hell out of there. I wanted to take you to the hospital, but Felix-ssi said no.”

You shake your head, “But why? I-I don’t understand…”

“She’s troubled…” Felix’s deep voice wrenches your attention away from Minho. At your gaze, he looks away, almost as if he couldn’t meet your eyes. “Ever since her son died, she’s been so…”

“Bat shit crazy?” Minho offers.

The other hybrid shakes his head, “She just… wanted companionship… Even so, I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart.” You wince as you swing your legs over to sit upright on the side of your bed and better face the male. You send him a soft smile, “It wasn’t your fault.”

Felix nods, but you can still read the guilt all across his face. You decide not to press and turn back to Minho, “Did you let the others know?”

He nods, “Yeah. Everyone’s outside. Channie-hyung wanted to come in, but we thought it would be better for you if we were the ones to explain what happened.”

You try not to notice how your heart flutters at the mention of the wolf hybrid. You clear your throat and shrug, “Yeah, I get it. Thanks.”

The two of them take your statement of gratitude as a permit to leave the room. Felix meets your eyes before he steps through the doorway, almost as if he were about to say something, but decides against it and completely rushes from the room. Minho also seems to hesitate, locking eyes with you before following his feline brother.

You didn’t like the knowing look you saw within his eyes.

Before you can think too much into it, another figure enters the room. Immediately, your cheeks start to burn and your heart race began to pick up. You will yourself to remain calm as the newcomer makes his way across the room to sit on the mattress beside you. Your attempt, though a good effort, fails. Because when you lift your gaze to connect with his, you’re immediately done for.

“Hi…”

Chan chuckles, “Hi…”

You purse your suddenly dry lips, licking at the course flesh. You try to think of something else to say, not liking how the silence matched the beat of your heart. No tangible thoughts entered your mind though. Which is why you’re thankful Chan was the one to break the silence, “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, I’m fine.”

“You sure? You were asleep for a while.” He lifts his hand to caress your hair back, his hand trailing fiery touches down your cheek. With his thumb, he rubs the skin just beneath your right eye, probably taking the dark lines beneath them. “Four or five hours actually.”

“Trust me, Chan, I’m okay.” You chuckle, grab his wrist and pull his hand away from your face. Your gaze trails down to your lap as you swallow at the stone in your throat. “I’m okay.”

As the quiet stretches on, you can’t help but think about when you were last alone with Chan. When you could feel his hands on your skin. His breath on your cheek. His lips…

“Stop.”

Chan furrows his brows, “What?”

You shake your head, “N-Nothing… It’s nothing. I just-”

“-(Y/N).” Your rambling ceases when the hybrid places both hands on your elbows, pulling you toward his body. “What’s wrong?”

Putting your hands against his chest to avoid him pulling your bodies any closer, you shake your head feverishly, “We can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“You know what, Chan.” You sigh, “This… whatever this is.”

Chan remains confused with his silver ears pulled back, his eyes a blend of concern and wonder. He removes one of his hands to lift your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet. The more the feelings inside you stir, the greater your fear grows. You feel like you’ll suffocate. But fly at the same time just sat in his arms.

“Your heart is beating really fast.” Chan murmurs, placing his free hand right over your pulsing organ. His other travels up to cup your cheek again, your face fitting perfectly in his palm. He sends you a small smile, “Don’t fight it, (Y/N). Don’t be afraid.”

Tears well in the corners of your eyes. You don’t know why you’re crying, but you do know that you can’t stop. Each tear creates a river down your skin. A river of fear, sorrow and love. You don’t like feeling this vulnerable. Especially in front of him. Your whisper is filled with raw emotion, only audible enough for him to hear, “I don’t want to hurt you, Chan… And I don’t want to get hurt…”

Not again.

“Do you trust me?”

You close your eyes with a sob, more droplets escaping your eyes. Even so, you can’t help the smile that contorts upon your lips, “More than anyone I have ever known.”

“Then will you trust me if I tell you that I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to kiss you right now.” Chan laughs, and the breath from his joy paints stars across your skin. You feel as if you were beneath a trance, only seeing him and only wanting to see him. “(Y/N)...”

He leans closer and closer until your lips are barely centimeters apart. One slip, and they’d touch. But he doesn’t deplete the space, and instead murmurs softly, “The world has taken anything and everything from me… And maybe it’s wrong, but for once, I want to be selfish…

“But I need to know you feel the same way.” His chocolate eyes bore into your own, and you swear you can see another universe hidden within the irises. A universe full of love, and life, and pain, and even death. You don’t see what the world chooses to see, but something that it chooses not to see: A beautiful creature that has lost everything, and is slowly gaining it all back.

The two of you aren’t so different in that sense.

Defeated, you shake your head, “This is a bad idea.”

Chan smirks, “Maybe. But an even worse idea is not kissing you this time.”

“Then kiss me.” You whisper, “I trust you.”

No sooner had you spoken the words did Chan diminish the remaining space and connect your lips to his. All hesitation and panic from before disappears in the actual act, and you can’t help but lean more into him, craving more of his touch. Your hands fly into his soft curls, like the many times you’ve wanted to before, and your bodies just mold into one. You’ve kissed a couple other people over your years, but none have ever felt like this. And as cliche as it sounds, you could spend hours just kissing Chan’s lips.

Your first kiss felt like hours honestly. And even when it ended, you could still feel the ghost of his lips hovering over yours. The two of you simply stare into one another’s eyes, before Chan kisses you. Once. Twice. Again and again until it may have actually been hours that passed. You didn’t want it to end any time soon.

It may have been selfish, but you didn’t care. You felt safe. Peaceful. Loved. In ways that you’ve never felt safe, peaceful and loved before. With Chan, the pain life has brought and will continue to bring dissipates into passion and longing. It was as if the world only held the two of you.

Nothing else existed. Just him and you.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids au #bang chan x reader #bang chan au #stray kids #bang chan #woojin #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #i.n.#kpop fanfic #kpop au

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prorevenge · 5 years

Text

Shop owner ends in hot water for being a crook

Cast: Me - yours truly, F - friend and coworker, B - boss, or bastard, you choose.

Some backstory (sorry for the long one, but there are things I need to make clear):

This happened 10 years ago. I was 18 and this was during the spring period of my junior year. I wanted to get money for a new mobile phone and a school trip to Austria, in order to practice on my German (my major was Math and German). My dad didn't want to give me the necessary 350 Euros for them, even though I was a 4.0 GPA student, calling me spoiled and selfish and asking me to get a job, just like all other normal teens at that time (actually none of my classmates were working, all were given the world by their parents for being in one of the most elite high schools in the city, but hey, you can't choose your family). So I got me a job at a local tobacco shop. It was right across my block of flats, so it was taking me 2 minutes to run from my flat to the shop, no big deal.

The owner of the shop (B) was a short man in his 40s, a man with good demeanor, or so I thought. He owned 4 other shops and needed workforce. We initially agreed for a payment of 15 Euros/day, I would work 4PM to 1AM, 4 days a week, including Saturdays and Sundays, so I would not miss on my schooling. He would pay me once every 2 weeks and even stated he would give me a raise after the first month.

The tobacco shop was selling not only tobacco products, but also alcohol, coffee, nuts, candy, chips, coke and its products etc. It allowed customers to get a cup of coffee which was freshly ground, as well as freshly squeezed orange or grapefruit juice.

So I started in the beginning of March. I was working with two other people, a 45-ish-year-old fat woman with a whining character, who would usually take the morning shifts from 6AM to 4PM and a 19-year-old beautiful girl (F). Also, I need to mention that, at that time, the store would share a toilet with a Courier service office, this is important for later.

There is one more thing I need to add - my country's labour codex states that employees must get a double payment during official holidays and also have at least 12 hours of rest between shifts. This is also important for later.

So initially I was doing fine - I did a couple of days of training, I learnt how to operate and clean the coffee machines, the juice machine, the cashier, the receipts (I needed to press Enter 3 times to enter the products in the system and take a receipt), this is important for later as well). It was quite easy, because I operated fast with money and calculations, and overall was quite trustworthy. I had some small incidents with minors who came asking for beer and cigarettes, but I would not sell the items to them, as it is illegal (my colleagues didn't care about that, but I was taught to uphold the law). Some of the frequent customers, who lived in the hood, would also initially be annoyed with me as well, because they were expecting from me to know the brand of cigarettes they smoke. Yes, there would be conversations like "two packs of my cigarettes - which brand? - Marlboro, you are supposed to know that - sorry, I only work here since recently - well, I come here every day, you should have remembered by now...". Eventually, this stopped, but I got the stink eye from some of them from time to time, because I am a sworn non-smoker, for me all cigarettes are poison, no matter the brand and the strength, and they didn't like that.

Overall, the job was not hard, and I had free Wi-Fi, so I would often bring my laptop to watch Youtube videos or listen to music online (at that time smartphones were expensive as hell and I had a regular mobile phone)

My first two fortnightly salaries were okay. I was supposed to get 120 Euros each, I got something like 110, but this was because I would get a random snack from the shop when I got hungry, and B would deduct all from my payment, which was okay. Also, B initially wanted me to add the tip to the cashier (the tip was the change (5, 10, 20 cents), which the customers would often not take and in the end it would add up to a few Euros), but we agreed for it to remain for me, as the other employees would also take it with them.

A month has passed. It was April, the days started to get warmer and B had permission to set a couple of coffee tables with chairs in front of the shop, so customers could drink their coffee and have a chat with a friend. I was instructed to take the tables and chairs back in the shop around 20:00, and a sign was posted on its front door.

So here started the problems.

After my first month I approached B for a raise, he said I was still a bit rusty and to wait at least 2 more weeks. He also gave me the contract to sign. I never got a copy, but, since this was my first job, I didn't know I needed one. I never got a raise as well, because I was "losing his customers". Bastard.

I had good relations with our colleagues at the courier office, but once I had a problem with them, because I took out the trash, but forgot to clean the juice machine. I threw the orange remains in the toilet, but one tiny piece of orange seemed to remain on the edge, so I was yelled by B and was fined 10 Euros.

There were two other times I was fined 10 Euros, for forgetting to turn the outside lights off and for forgetting to put the daily report in the shop log, but this was my fault. My second coworker would also report me for missing a trash bag or failing to put the items in the fridges in order, but she never took out the trash and never tidied up, so this actually went against her. I never had problems with F.

I had problems with some of the local customers, though. I live in a considerably poor neighbourhood and there are different types of scumbags who live there. There is this group of 10 people, in their late 40s and 50s, who are alcoholics and were sitting at the coffee tables until dark, as if this was the local pub. When I asked them to leave, because it went past 20:00 and I had to take the tables to the shop. I was yelled by them drunks and later by B as well, because I was "losing frequent customers for being rude and disrespectful to them", even though I almost ended up in a knife fight with one disgusting animal.

The cherry on the cake was the incident with an entitled mother, because she had sent her child to buy her beer and cigarettes and I refused to sell the items to him, because it is against the law. I then got a fine of 30 Euros by B and was pretty pissed.

In the last week of my work, in the beginning of June, B asked me to go and work in other shops, stating there was a sick employee and he needed me there. It was Friday, I ended up working from 15:00 to 22:00 in the local shop, then he took me to one of the other shops, where I worked from 23:00 to 08:00 on Saturday. Then he asked me to work from 23:00 to 11:00 on Sunday and wanted me to be at 16:00 in my local shop, but I refused, because I was exhausted. He threatened to not pay me extra, and we agreed to go to the shop at 19:00, after I got some sleep (I was supposed to get at least 12 hours between the shifts, as I mentioned above, but he didn't care).

After this exhausting time B wanted to change me to another shop, but I refused due to my schooling and also because I wanted to remain in the same shop. But he got some new workers and said I would not be working until the end of the week. Eventually I understood he had terminated my contract and also refused to pay me for the last 2 weeks, nearly 200 Euros in total with the extra shifts.

There are a few more things, which are important:

Some of my free days I spent with F. She was at work and I was in the shop with her, having a chat and being together, because she had some mild form of anxiety and didn't want to remain alone. During this time I noticed she used a different combination to enter the products in the system - enter, enter, 1, enter. I understood that this would enter the items in the system, but would not send the information to the receipt machine, and this would not get a receipt and thus the boss would not have to pay VAT for the items. I also understood later that he asked for everyone else to do it, everyone but me, because I wanted everything to be legal.

There was a new coworker, whom B liked and tried to seduce. He was overtly sexist and wanted to hire attractive girls, whom to pay more and to be more clingy towards them. I didn't like that at all. So the new coworker ended up being very crooked and actually stole around 400 Euros, which B blamed me for, and said he had camera recordings, but this was all bullshit.

So after all of this I was angry and wanted revenge. Initially I spoke to a friend, who advised me to report him to the local Labour Inspection office, which I did. It almost ended with a lawsuit and I was threatened by my boss this would cost me dearly, so I backed my claim, because I needed a clean legal certificate, because I was going to the Bulgarian Naval Academy in a year and didn't want to jeopardize my future. My dad got softer on me and paid for my phone and the trip, saying I earned them, because it wasn't my fault for why I didn't have the money, it was the moron of a boss.

Years have passed. I got discharged due to medical reasons and came back to my hometown. I got a new job and was living with my father, until I get better. The shop was still owned by this prick and he was going around town in a very expensive car, and I even saw him once to smoke Cohiba cigars, which usually go 15-20 Euros a piece. In the mean time he was still paying 15-20 Euros a day to the shop assistants, and I understood he was desperate for workforce.

So I decided to turn all of this against him. I knew some of the workers, as we grew up together, and they complained how much of a crook B was. I hated him for being so cheap on his employees and so large in personal spending. We started a rumour about how bad of a boss he was and to stay away from him. Word got out and he not only started losing assistants, but no one would want to ask him for a job.

One time police was nearby. Someone had broken one of the shop's large windows with a stone and stolen a large amount of cigarettes. The losses were for about a thousand euros, from what I understood. B also had to pay for a new window, and that would cost him more. Apparently, he had pissed off a lot of people.

I also suggested to some of his former employees, whom I knew vaguely, to file individual reports against B in the local Labour inspection office, like I did all those years ago. I explained they would definitely rattle his cage. A lot of reports went in, and I understood there was a major inspection of all shops. They could also use my information, but I asked them to take me off the case, I didn't want any recompense, only to watch him burn.

Eventually, B disappeared. What I understood, is that he ended up with a lot of problems, because he was charged with mistreatment of his personnel, violation of the Labour codex, felony tax evasion and a number of other charges.

So far I know that he is somewhere in the UK, while the business is handled by his brother and wife. His shops were cut in half due to the lack of workers, and I understood they were about to close another one as well. His business is not as successful as before, and I also understood it is frequently inspected.

Now, I know B didn't end up in jail, or at least I don't know about it. But I don't care. Sooner or later everyone gets what they deserve. I will not be the person to put him behind bars, but most of those people still greet me with smiles and give me updates on the case. They also thank me for giving them the idea of filing reports and using their rights. I guess I am the mastermind behind all of this, and, to be honest, I will be extremely happy, when he gets what he deserves from being a crook and a piece of trash. And the best part is - I don't have to do anything about it.

TLDR - I had a disgusting crook for a boss during my first job. He exploited me and other employees, I suggested to them to file reports against him, and he got into a lot of trouble for this.

(source) story by (/u/zerberos666)

#prorevenge #by /u/zerberos666 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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airbender-dacyon · 5 years

Text

Life and Kataang Week Delays

So I’ve been thinking about writing up this post for a while now, but haven’t had the chance until today. Its part explanation as to why there were so many delays and inconsistent updates with Kataang Week and part cathartic exercise for me personally. If you’re curious about what happened, feel free to read. I think this is more for me than anyone else, but like I said, it also serves as something of an explanation for how I poorly handled Kataang Week this year.

Before I get into the details, I’d just like to give a huge shout out to everyone who has offered me kind words and support these last several weeks. It means the world to me. And I sincerely apologize if I forget a name or two; @kristallioness @thecaroliner @the-rosey-one @s-n-arly @mindatworkk and @secretsecrettunnel

And thank you to everyone who participated in Kataang Week or helped spread the word that it was still happening.

If you’ve followed my personal blog for a while, you know I’m prone to hiatuses due to personal life or more likely, my anxiety/depression. And while I can more or less manage that outside of the internet, my online presence suffers. I spent far too long as a recluse back in 2013/2014 hiding away from friends and family in real life by retreating into the internet. I have no desire to return to those days. So despite my best efforts, much of this year I was unfortunately unable to maintain a consistent presence on tumblr.

The source of much of that anxiety was my former warehouse job, which I just very recently left. The work itself was not terrible, but after the first few weeks it transitioned from a 40 hours per week job to 50-60 hours per week. The mandatory overtime, combined with family obligations, left me with very little time to focus on my personal life. The pay wasn’t as great as previous jobs I’d held, the benefits were crap, the management was more concerned about hiring new employees than retaining current ones, and overall the experience just left me physically drained and apathetic towards the job/company.

Additional anxiety came from working towards entry into graduate school, just prior to starting said former job. Although I was accepted into the graduate school of my choice, I still have plenty of work to do before the semester starts in a few weeks. Again, most everything in my life was put on hold or pushed back thanks to that warehouse.

And although my exact area wasn’t directly affected, Southwest Ohio has been dealing with a lot this year. Several tornadoes tore through the region, heavy rains affected farming and roads for weeks, and much more recently, the shock of the mass shooting in Dayton. Again, while none of these have directly affected me, I personally know friends and family who were affected. And while we were fortunate to not have friends or family lost in the Oregon District, we are saddened at the loss of life and terrified at how quickly such a tragedy came about, especially in an area we imagined was welcoming and safe.

All of what I mentioned above was plenty to deal with, but I think I would have probably been able to keep up with Kataang Week/tumblr had I not been dealing with the grief that I am.

Around February/March, I learned that an old high school classmate and friend committed suicide. I scrambled to try and remember when we had last spoken and realized that – with the exception of possible, since deleted conversations on facebook – we likely hadn’t talked since graduation several years ago. I have vague memories of them – I know what they looked like, their voice, their general attitude and personality – but whenever I try to really remember events or exact memories, I draw blanks. And I think that hurts me as much as actually losing them because in a sense, I’d already lost them in my memories before I lost them in life.

On a similar note, I’ve learned about other friends I’ve known from high school and college and how some of them have changed and… I’m not sure what hurts worse on that front – uncertain if we’re really friends anymore or that I discovered these developments on my own/they didn’t trust me enough to tell me directly. Some of them I lost when I became a recluse in 2013/2014, others I don’t really know when. And I know people grow and change through life, but it hurts all the same.

Within days of hearing about my classmate’s suicide, I learned my last living grandparent – my grandmother – had passed away. She had suffered from Alzheimer’s/dementia for about five years now, declining with each and every visit until other relatives managed to move her to a nursing home to provide her with better care. I hadn’t seen her in well over a year by the time she passed due to the distance to travel to where she lived and the next loss I’m going to talk about. I cried after the fact, but up to and during her funeral, I just felt numb.

It was these losses that caused the initial delays for Kataang Week this year.

For almost the last two years, the greatest obligation in my family life was to visit another relative – a member of my immediate family – who was suffering from a rare disease.

My mother was misdiagnosed with Parkinson’s some years ago and she fought valiantly to maintain her life despite the rather aggressive onset of the disease. By the time she was reliant on a cane, she had to quit her job and apply for disability. The next year, she was reliant on a walker; less than a year later, a wheelchair. As her motor control and strength were taken from her, so was her mind in bits and pieces. She became confused and forgetful more often, slurred her speech and lost her voice some days, among other symptoms. My father and I did the best we could to make our home accessible to her, but eventually even in a wheelchair she became largely reliant on the two of us.

My Dad shouldered most of her care and for far longer than he probably should have. After speaking with a neurologist about the possibility of a surgical procedure (deep brain stimulation, I believe – known to help ‘reset’ the brain for Parkinson’s patients and give them independence and motor control again for another 5-10 years), we were informed that my Mom wasn’t actually afflicted with Parkinson’s.

The disease she actually suffered from is known as Multiple System Atrophy (often referred to simply as MSA) and presents itself as ‘Parkinson’s on steroids.’ It is much less common than Parkinson’s and there is no cure. After symptom onset, those afflicted with MSA live for an average of 7 more years before succumbing to complications (most often respiratory related) resulting from the disease.

Eventually it became too difficult to care for her at home and we moved her into a nursing home. So when I was home from school or off work, I spent as much time as I could with my Mom in her new home. As a result, 10 hour days followed by several hours at the nursing home didn’t leave me with much time for tumblr/Kataang Week this year.

She sometimes had enough strength and mental aptitude to move herself around in her wheelchair, other times she was still reliant on family or staff. She made new friends and eventually came to accept her situation. She knew she was declining and often wondered what she had done to deserve such a cruel fate.

Within the last year, she became almost entirely confined to her bed. She didn’t have the strength to sit up long enough in a wheelchair for anything other than short trips through the nursing home for her personal hygiene. On days she was more mentally ‘with it,’ more aware of her situation, she was very depressed with her situation. The best days were when she could hold conversations and laugh, despite everything. However, the good days increasingly became fewer and father apart. She began to eat less and simply stare at visitors.

After almost two weeks of staring with little talking and poor appetite, I had a good day with her. She was smiling and talking with me. She ate a decent dinner that evening. We laughed at funny commercials on the television and family stories. It was a good day. I thought things were going to start looking up, getting better. I wish I had stayed with her longer that night.

I don’t think she ever spoke more than a few words after that night. The poor appetite and vacant staring returned, interrupted only by an occasional spark of consciousness or smile. Within a week of that last good day I spent with her, hospice told us she was likely not going to live much longer; she passed not even a full day after hospice told us that.

We had been living in a state of perpetual grief as we watched her slip further and further away these last several years. But to lose her so suddenly still cut deep. We were also relieved that she didn’t have to suffer anymore.

My Mom’s rapid decline and death happened in the final weeks leading up to Kataang Week. I tried to get things situated well enough for the week, but I failed. I appreciate everyone’s support and patience this year and Marie for helping out when I needed it most.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

TL;DR - Work, weather, and deaths of friends/family piled on the anxiety/depression and delayed Kataang Week.

So if you’ve taken the time to read all of this, I thank you. I feel a little lighter now that I’ve written it all out. And if you made it this far, I’d just like to say – the next time you see your parents or a loved one you haven’t seen in a while, give them a hug. Tell them you love them. You never know how much longer you’ll have with them. Sometimes the death of a loved one is sudden and unexpected. Sometimes it’s an inevitability you’ve feared for years. Either way, it hurts like hell.

To end, I’d just like to wish all my mutuals, friends, and followers – and their loved ones – long, healthy, and happy lives. And again, thank you all for your boundless support and friendship.

- Dan

#Dan rambles #Personal #This is really rambly and a mess and I didn't spellcheck or anything #But its something of an explanation

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msgtporkins · 5 years

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Dealing With The Elephant’s Foot

I sit at my computer, writing this as sweat pours down brow and the back of my neck due to the medication that is helping me fight this bacterial demon of epic proportions. The scare first started on Saturday night after I had a late workout session. It was light duty stuff to help bring my corpulent frame in something more manageable then get back into the brawny young man I was in high school. The thought of once more being able to see my penis excited me as I walked 3 miles on the treadmill then proceeded with some light free weights then the bane of any fat guy's routine - the sit up. I cranked out 20 (the most I could do without pushing myself) and felt good about doing so. I'd been doing the same routine nightly for two weeks and dropped an impressive 3 pounds. That may not seem like much but to me, it was a clear goal.

As I head home for a much needed shower and sleep, I awoke the next morning to go to church to help out in the kitchen on the first of the month but my right calf had a slight burning sensation as if someone was pulling a frat house prank on a drunk guy by holding a match under bare skin. I stretched it out and thought nothing of it until I got home. While sitting down in my office chair to do some quality video recording, I felt a weird lump in the crease between my thigh and groin area. At first I thought it some sort of fatty mass because when you're as big as me, you tend to have areas like that but something was off. It was a hard mass and it was in the lymph node area, thinking that during the cold season it may have clogged up and sometimes they will do that. During the summer time, the ones in my throat will do so due to allergies so I shrugged it off...until a few hours later. The mass grew double its size and I began to worry. I showed my wife and we got onto Skype with her father, who has been a male ER nurse for 40 plus years. He has seen things that Indiana Jones would dare to discover and it was only proper to ask his advice. After some cross-chat and prognosis, we figured it to be DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) or lymph nodes swelling. CaffienatedTigress, my wife, went down to the store and picked up some low-dose aspirin to help thin the blood some to see if that would help. It did but not in the way we thought it would.

I woke up the next morning to a mass that had spread to my genital area, causing a slight painful swelling that was looking to overtake everything down south. I wasn't panicked or anything but I figured it was more lymph node thing until I moved. The burning sensation came back full force and it felt as if you had slept too close to a campfire and your sin was all painfully burning because you were slightly cooked. Over the next couple of days, the swelling had gotten worse and my right testicle was about the size of a grapefruit and had the appearance of Quasimodo and Sloth made a baby during some animalistic argument sex. Now it was time to go see a doctor. We made our way to a Primary Health Non-Emergency clinic a.k.a. Doc-In-A-Box and awaited to be seen. Apparently, the doc was let out of his cage that day and only a Physician's Assistant was available. They asked if that would be okay. I said of course but in turned out not to be. A young man who reminded me of Paul Reubens yet looked perfectly suited for a prison ward looked me over. He was oddly reluctant at the fact that I was not timid about becoming naked in the time it takes for Rosie O'Donnell to demolish a honey ham during the holidays. After a quick look over, he announced that I could have a hernia. Great. I spend all this time trying to be careful and taking it easy, only to be side-tracked by the one thing I didn't want. He referred us to an actual hospital where actual doctors could do actual examination with actual accuracy. Once again, we were off like my boxers.

We arrived at St. Luke's where we were wonderfully greeted by a mousy, young gal that reminded of Jennine Melnatz, the receptionist from the movie, "Ghostbusters". That's a good thing because we saw lots of her as she apologized profusely throughout of visit because Pee Wee forgot to send over the paperwork and when he finally did (I can assume we were waiting for Mailman Mike or Captain Carl to deliver it from Puppet Land), it was a jumbled mess of letters, sentences and paragraphs that was even worse than what you are reading right now. After a couple of hours of sorting through it all, we were brought back to the ultrasound room to see if the mass that was growing like The Blob was indeed a hernia. While Tigress watched from a mere six feet away, my groin region was fondled by a mid-30's blonde gal whose touch were like silk for over an hour and afterwards she even gave her coffee. My penis did nothing the entire time, not even poking out of its now flesh bunker like the gopher from Caddyshack. It was stoic and unwavering like a mighty oak...er...acorn. As she was sending over the result, apparently, the computer was having a hard time trying to send over the information of my newly-lubed genitals to the radiologist to view. She had to take a screen shot with her phone to send enough over to him and ended us sending me home because it wasn't an emergency from what they could find. They told me they would call the next day and I would hear the bad/good news.

17 hours later...

I get a call from Pee Wee because I can safety assume that he had gotten a new tin can for his phone after Cowboy Curtis shot the old one. He told me that there was 'dead and dying tissue so I needed to go to the ER'. Well shit... We loaded up into the Tigress-mobile and headed off to the place I should of went to first. This was another St. Luke's but the one I knew better. I was born in this one. Everyone in the Pork Platoon helped raised money for the Children's Hospital there. I should of used better judgement and went right to where I knew that I would of had this problem solved without the sketchy medical practices of Puppet Land and faulty ultrasound machines. (I would of missed out on a good fondling so it wasn't all bad) I was immediately brought in, stripped down and put into a room within five minutes of arrival. So far, so good then walks in the hero of the story. The male ER nurse that came to save the day had a battle-harden look about him. He had the physical attributes of Mr. Clean and the cut-straight-through-the-bullshit feel of Cable from the Marvel comic. In the next two minutes, he man-handled my junk as if he was engaged in hand-to-gland combat. He knew exactly where to strike and get the job done. He asked if there was an ultrasound and I told him, "Yes, sir.". Within a minute's time, he disappeared and came back, having gotten the results from the other hospital and told me that I had a bacterial infection most commonly found on gym equipment. He had saved the day in record time and ravished my body in a way I have never been loved before.

Rewind back to that Saturday night.

The on-site gym in the apartment complex I live it isn't exactly the best in the world but it does what you need it to do. There are free-weights, treadmills, stationary bikes and some sort of machine that even in all my years of workout, I've never seen before and probably equate it to some sort of Slavic torture device that was used by Spetsnaz for interrogating Western spies and now was bought on the cheap by this housing company because 'it looks like gym equipment'. There is only one bench in the entire place that has the ability to be able to use it for sit ups and free weights. The one I used quite often, every day in fact. I'm the kind of person that cleans up equipment afterwards because I wouldn't want anyone sliding around on my body sweat because Tigress does that and I even feel bad for her for doing that. That gal is the greatest wife in the world. Apparently, I was naive to think others would do the same but in this hustle-and-bustle world of staying glued to an iPhone and not giving a damn about where you sling your body fluids, I can only imagine the genital sweat left behind by all the men and women living there. One can only guess by what slimy smegma-covered hot dog or Sarlaac pit mixed with the bacterial contents of a Chipotle food service line have laid across this bench and not been wiped up once. I was the one who fell victim to such vile nastiness and my groin nearly paid the ultimate price.

The antibiotics are working great yet they are causing me to sweat because my body is warming itself up to fight off the foreign invaders. It's just natural and happens normally but since I'm a naturally warm-bodied person, the kind of heat I produce is liken to that of the 1986 Chernobyl disaster and I'm laying on top of the covers while my still swollen testicle sits their like the infamous Elephant's Foot, only can be viewed by someone for a few seconds because keeling over and dying. At least I'm feeling better.

I'll see you all on the next battlefield!

Deuces,

Wayde "MSgtPorkins" Andazola

#msgtporkins #vlog #vlogger #blog #blogger #medical vlog #medical blog #commentary #funny #funny moments #comedy

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2-for-a-penny · 6 years

Text

A Train and A Tumble pt.1

New multichapter Fic! ButtonsxTommy Boy moden au, they work in a train store warehouse!

Masterlist Archive

ENJOY!!!

Buttons pulled open the backdoor to the warehouse and entered. He laid down his stuff and waved to everyone already at work at their stations. He clocked in as his manager, Finch, was walking over.

“Hey Buttons, how were classes today?”

Buttons looked up from the computer and smiled at the guy asking. “Same old same old, they talked I listened, I may or may not have learned stuff. The usual.”

Finch smiled at the sarcasm and handed him a stack of papers. “Once you clock in I need you to pick these orders, shits about to get crazy soon with the holidays coming up.”

Buttons took the papers and began to file through them as he walked away towards the shelves. “Got it.” He called over his shoulder. Finch nodded and went back to processing orders.

Buttons glided through the warehouse, his feet taking him where he needed to go without thinking. Buttons knew this place like the back of his hand. A small warehouse with sixty or so shelves, jam packed with model trains, rails, and tiny houses alike. The smell of cardboard filled the musty room. Buttons continued along his path, scanning the paper in his hands, and expertly dodging the boxes half hanging off of the shelves around him. When he found the shelf he was searching for, he glanced down at the paper, and picked up the box with the correct label. Double checking himself, like the perfectionist he is, he carried the train over to the next open cart with the order form.

“Are you sure that’s the right train?” Buttons heard a voice call from the side. He turned to see a redhead calling from her computer in the corner of the warehouse.

“Yes, I’m positive Katherine. That was the only Railking on that shelf.” He called back to her. He walked over to her work station, she was dressed in the average warehouse clothes; a t-shirt, shorts, tennis shoes, and her long red locks were in a loose bun atop of her head. She smiled teasingly at him while she continued printing out the shipping labels for the boxes sitting in front of her. There was an entire full cart waiting to be processed, this was unusual for Katherine as she was normally a very fast worker and liked to stay ahead of the packers.

“Forget about me, looks like you’re a little behind there Kathy, something wrong?” Buttons asked jokingly. Katherine sighed dramatically and flopped her head down onto her head on the desk.

“Everything is wrong my dear Buttons! When is life ever right?” She exclaimed loudly, causing Mike and Ike to look up from the boxes they were packing, and give her a shake of their heads as they resumed their tasks.

“Awe what’s wrong Kathy?” Buttons asked consolingly.

“There is a temptress, she haunts my dreams! Everytime I close my eyes, there she stands, beckoning me! I feel her gaze, and she draws me in. Those eyes, those lips, I shant look away!” Buttons let out a small laugh at her elizabethan monologue and lightly pat her on the back. Buttons thought she was ridiculous. Katherine had been in love with the girl from inventory since she walked by to get a cupcake from the breakroom about a month prior. Katherine since then, had refused to go back into the inventory section, for fear she might make a fool of herself falling of a stool or something. This left Buttons to do all of the work that occured in that section of the warehouse.

“It’s the girl from inventory isn’t it.”

“Yes! How dare she just walk around like that!” Katherine declared.

“Walk around like what?”

“All pretty, and sweet, and perfect and stuff. Ya know?” Katherine looked up at Buttons hopelessly. He took pity on her poor soul. She was just a tired lesbian trying to make her way through life. He could relate...sort of.

“Yeah Kathy, I know.” She just continued to look at Buttons with her puppy dog eyes and finally he huffed.

“How about I talk to Medda and Nunzio and see if I can find out anything about her?” Katherine’s eyes lit up as she hugged Buttons tightly around the waist.

“Thank you! Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Not nearly enough.” She released him from her death grip, and quickly got back to processing the boxes on the cart, at a much faster pace now. Buttons rolled his eyes and grabbed an empty supply box, and made his way back to inventory.

Walls of rolly carts filled with stacks and stacks of trains and tracks waiting to be put into the system surrounded Buttons. He fluidly walked through the dangerous rows, careful not to break anything, and arrived at the first desk located in the very back. An old man with glasses and a rather fantastic mustache sat at the computer, staring at the pile of small matchbox cars laying on the desk. He let out a thoughtful noise, then quickly rose and grabbed a small cardboard container, and swiftly fit all of the cars neatly inside. He grabbed the sticker with the item ID and placed it onto the box, then moved it onto the cart next to the desk.

Buttons cleared his throat and the old man turned his head.

“Buttons! Long time no see!” The man said cheerfully. Buttons smiled at his enthusiasm and offered the man the empty container in his hands.

“I worked full time three days last week. I didn’t see you.” The man accepted the box and carefully balanced it on the stack that was currently taller than Buttons.

“Oh, I was on vacation last week, that explains it.” The two stood in comfortable silence before the man spoke again.

“So what brings you back here?” Buttons shook his head and smiled, “Can’t a guy just want to see you Nunzio?” Nunzio had been nice to Buttons since day one. He was the one that checked on Buttons every night. Making sure David knew if Buttons was working later that night, and getting him secret snacks, and showing him around the warehouse. Nunzio was sort of like Buttons and Katherine’s work father. They both loved him, and his semi elderly ways.

“They can.” He answered back, “But I know you have a purpose. You don’t normally come back here until the end of the day.”

Buttons put his hands up and let out a small laugh. “You caught me. I had a few questions, and maybe a favor to ask.”

“Shoot.”

“Okay, so you know the girl in inventory?”

“The one with the long hair, and also the only one back here under 40?”

“Yeah her.”

“Go on.”

“Well, our dearest friend Katherine, has a little crush on said girl.” Buttons explained.

“Ahhhh, so she sent you back here to find out more information and such on her.”

“Precisely.” Buttons responds with a curt nod of his head.

“Well, I can tell you, she and Katherine are probably soulmates.” Buttons laughed at this strange proclamation.

“What makes you say that?”

“They are the same person; twins in a different life if you believe in that sort of thing. They have the same attitude, and spunk. I think they would be good for each other.” Buttons grinned.

“I’m sure Katherine will be glad to hear that.” Nunzio smiled and shooed him off.

“Now get going, we both have work to do.” Buttons waved as he walked off, back to his station. He grabbed more sheets, getting ready to go on the hunt when Finch walked up to his station.

“Hey Finch.” Finch smiled in response and looked down at the clipboard in front of him.

“Hi Buttons. So quick question. With the holiday season coming up, are you still okay to work nights? I know school is going to start getting a little tougher with finals and everything. But you’re still okay with your normal hours?”

“Absolutely, if I ever need a day off I will let you know.” Buttons replied happily. Finch wrote something on his clipboard and focused on the paper in front of him, scrutinizing the words as he read them.

“Good, because we have a new guy that’s going to start here tomorrow. He’s a packer and he’s going to be working the late shifts with you. I think he actually attends the same school as you.” Buttons took in what was being said to him. He couldn’t help but feel a little sad. He really liked working the late shifts. He could play his music as loud as he wanted and charge across the warehouse without a worry for bumping into someone, or someone catching him mouthing the tune playing in his ear. It was also just more peaceful later. The whole place has a comforting silence about it. As much as he was going to miss being able to dance around while walking to the pickups, he was pretty sure the new person wouldn’t change much else. He probably wouldn’t even want to talk to Buttons anyway.

“Sounds cool. What’s his name?”

“Tommy Boy.” Buttons frowned. That’s a weird name.

Finch let out a small laugh. “Yeah, sure, go ahead and judge someone’s name, Buttons.”

Buttons scowled at the man in front of him. “Isn’t it time for you to go home Finch?” Finch checked the watch in his wrist and his eyes lit up.

“Thank God, you’re right.” He turned to address the full time workers of the warehouse. “Let’s wrap it up ya’ll!” He turned to head back to his station and Buttons plugged his headphones in. He walked around as the other workers filtered out around him. He could faintly hear “bye Buttons” and “See ya later”. He nodded in acknowledgement and continued the task at hand. When the warehouse was finally empty, save for him of course, Buttons took a deep breath and smiled softly, taking in his last day of peace in the small, dusty, dirty warehouse that he wouldn’t trade for the world.

Taglist (ask to be added)

@insane-tomato

@madiwest00

@thatpoorguysheadisspinning

@auspicioustarantula

#newsies #newsies liv #2forapenny fic #buttons #tommy boy newsies #buttons newsies

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of-another-broken-heart · 5 years

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today wasn’t... bad.

I think.

I dunno.

I didn’t want to wake up, and didn’t sleep super great.

I took too long doing my makeup and made us run late - although apparently everyone got delayed by 30-60 minutes anyway, so we ended up being early regardless.

Lil sis threw a tantrum and refused to go. I don’t even want to dwell on it, I’m so fucking tired... but here I go anyway. She spent 12-18 hours getting ready - practicing makeup multiple times, planning outfit, sleeping - but dropped her phone in the kitchen sink somehow right before we were planning to leave and refused to listen to mom to get it drying. She needed to turn it off and put it in some rice to let the rice draw out all the moisture. Instead, she patted it dry with a towel and continued to use it. Until it forced itself off. Then she stood it up in some rice and continued trying to turn it on and use it. At which point it wouldn’t stay on, and she couldn’t use it, so she proclaimed she wasn’t going to have anything to do or anyone to talk to without her phone, so she wasn’t going at all.

Mom had already spent the better part of the morning getting our contributions ready to go. I had thought we were leaving a bit before 1, but it turned out I was an hour off compared to my mom’s plans, so I didn’t get to help as much as I wanted and instead spent nearly the whole time I was awake just... getting ready as best I could. Hence my makeup taking longer than I’d hoped.

We weren’t going to all lose out on the family get-together food fest, though, so the rest of us (mom, bro, and I) got out the door and spent the next six or so hours at my cousin’s house.

A few people tried to give mom a hard time about lil sis not being there, but once it was explained what happened, pretty much all anyone could do was sigh. Mom tried to reach out (via the kids’ father) to see if lil sis had calmed down or changed her mind but... nope. Got no response from that. Then later, once dinner was properly out and everyone was sat down to eat, lil sis sent a text asking when mom was coming home - which took about 40 minutes for mom to see and respond to, what with sitting down to eat. I don’t know exactly what mom’s response was, but she offered to go pick lil sis up, again. Lil sis didn’t respond to that, either.

Then folks started leaving. A gaggle of old-enough-to-drive kids broke off first, to shop. Then one family cluster had to go, because work. And so on, until there were only a few left, and dessert wasn’t going to happen, and clean up and goodbye.

And I... feel really defeated for making that pie. It feels stupid. It’s just a pie. But I had to hype myself up to make it. It took multiple days. I was proud of it. It was a staple, Nana and PopPop always had pumpkin pie...

And about 3 people even saw it. That’s it. One piece got left for my cousin’s SO, another got cut for cousin’s kid’s SO, and... the rest came home.

So much came home.

We (as a family) made so much food. I kept joking that no one would have to cook for the next week, thanks to the leftover situation. I mean, I wasn’t really joking. I was serious, and happy about it. The whole Fucked Brain thing I’ve got going on means I love leftovers, because there’s basically no food prep and I’m a matter of microwave minutes from a warm meal. It blows my mind when people don’t... sympathize with that. Like, I get that organizing and storing the stuff in the first place is a bit of a hassle, but the longer term time save is worth it?? Even my defunct gray head pudding can grasp that??

And a few people DID bring up the whole “How... are you doing?” thing, and at this point I just noncommittally wince and say “... Eh.” And if they prod, I’ll usually either begrudgingly add “The same,” or “Not great.”

Also had multiple “If you wanna find work, NOW IS THE TIME, everyone is hiring for everything everywhere!!” from people who... haven’t actually had to job hunt in... decades?? They think that seeing a “Now Hiring” sign is the equivalent of a business taking on a small army of applicants, and that is Wrong and Incorrect.

I got to semi-publicly update them all about that job they’d all been telling me about - how I had called multiple times, left at least one message, even sent in a resume through the business’s website, and that I’d started that whole process the day my cousin had helped me set up the doctor’s stuff - and learned the job was filled somewhat recently. It didn’t merit any other real commentary except the ignorant “just go apply to McDonald’s!” sort of thing.

It’s weird. The whole family dynamic, with regards to age, has me very much in between my boomer-mentality family (not all of which even ARE boomers) and the “kids,” where I know the boomers don’t know shit about entry level work of any kind, but the kids have no concept of work ethic, either. (Literally two of my cousins were complaining that they got reprimanded and their hours cut for... consistently not showing up for their shifts in the first place)

And my one aunt basically tried to lecture one of them about “you just have to work hard” when the kid was complaining about her boss DOG WHISTLING at her at work instead of using the kid’s name, and making the kid do shit like payroll. Then my aunt also made some racist retort about the whistling, something like “Yeah, well he’s Chinese,” which the kid just screwed up her face and promptly informed her, “No, he’s not.” Like... I don’t even know. What the fuck. That was supposed to mean. I’m glad that it just got dropped but ??? What the fuck.

#personal #food mention

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val-kay-rie · 6 years

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Lucky (Loki x Reader)

Summary: The God of Mischief is to reside with the Avengers for the time being, only to discover something familiar written along the back of your neck.

Warnings: I think like one swear word?

Word Count: 2,450

A/N: Hey, whaddup! This is my first work on this blog, so feedback is always welcomed! I apologize in advance for the lack of a "read more" separator thing and any typos or errors. This entire thing was written on the mobile editor so blame the phone, not me! Hope you enjoy!

Based upon a random Soulmate AU I thought up, in which the birth place of someone's destined significant other is tattooed on the back of one's neck.

"What the hell is a Jotunheim?" Tony asked, reading off your neck as you tinkered away.

"Wish I knew, Stark," you said, having grown accustomed to people wondering about the odd place that was so elegantly written on your skin.

Most people when they're born have destinations like Denver, San Diego or New York City marked upon their skin. Some people you've met even got international places like London, Tokoyo or Dubai. Not you, though. Instead, you got the weird, mythical place called Jotunheim.

Ever since you could remember, people asked about it, causing you to do some research on it once you were old enough to truly grasp the concept. Months and months of searching for the foreign location and all you had found was some mythological realm of ice and snow. After finding absolutely nothing that dealt with your actual planet, you decided that maybe your soulmate wasn't coming after all.

That was years ago. Now, you had recently landed yourself a job at Stark Industries as his lab assistant. Needless to say it took less than a week for him to come in all banged up in his suit. You were currently repairing his helmet while Tony stood a few feet away as he worked on repairing the actual suit. The billionaire asked you, "You haven't looked into it?"

"Oh, I have. But after finding nothing but a bunch of make believe worlds, I decided to just forget about it," you honestly replied. Typically you wore your hair down to cover it up and allow the rest of the world to forget about it as well, but doing lab work with long hair didn't exactly work out for you. This resulted in you tossing your hair up into a bun, leaving your neck exposed to whoever was in the lab with you. Thankfully that only consisted of Tony, and occasionally Pepper, both of which you knew you could trust.

"Helmet´s fixed," you announced, putting it on yourself for good measure.

Tony turned to you and laughed at the sight. He joked, "Wow, what would I do without you?"

It has been years since you were first hired, and life has changed drastically since then. Fighting off a villain with a robot army that highly resembled Tony's tech, hearing news that a super soldier from the 40s lived after being frozen for decades, and protecting yourself during an alien invasion aren't exactly things you thought you'd experience in your lifetime.

Yet the universe always had a way of surprising you.

Today, for instance, Thor had randomly dropped in with his brother Loki, saying that the both of them would need to stay at the tower for awhile as part of Loki's punishment for the chaos he's caused.

"So the King of Asgard, your father, bannished brother dearest and sent him to Earth?" Tony asked, trying to get the facts straight as the Avengers and their unexpected guests ate at dinner. After receiving a nod of confirmation from Thor, Tony asked, "Why?"

Thor swallowed a mouthful of his food before answering, "He has hopes that it'll change Loki's behavior, just as it changed mine when I was sent here years ago."

"Okay, but why Earth? Why send him back to the place of the crime?" Clint voiced, the man in question clearly growing uncomfortable as he sensed where the conversation was going.

"Show them, brother," Thor said in an encouraging tone.

Loki exhaled, for he had dreaded this moment since he arrived. Knowing that everyone would soon find out, he decided there was no point in delaying the inevitable and proceeded with his brother's wish. Loki placed his utensils down on the table and turned around in his seat before moving all of his hair to one shoulder. It left his neck exposed over the dark green tunic like top he wore, and the entire table was able to read the single word printed on his pale skin: Midgard.

"Midgard?" Steve asked, knowing it sounded familiar, but couldn't remember why.

"Earth. It means Earth," Bruce quickly responded, making eye contact with you as he did so.

Dr. Banner practically lived in Tony's lab after The Battle of New York - or The Incident as the tabloids liked to call it - so it was only natural that he knew about the strange birth place on your neck. He even helped you try to learn more about it after Thor took Loki and the Tesseract back to Asgard, but after finding zero cases of love across the realms, you deemed it as a lost cause once again.

Now, though, all you wanted was to excuse yourself from the table and pick up where you left off in your research. The mischevious god sitting across from you, someone you know to be born in Asgard, had suddenly given you hope that perhaps your soulmate was out there after all.

You were brought out of your thoughts as Thor began speaking again, "Father doesn't know of it, but mother discovered it and persuaded the Allfather to send Loki here, in hopes he may find his soulmate, as you call it."

"It's not common for anyone outside of Midgard to have a birth place across their neck," Loki stated as he turned back around to face everyone, "When mother found it and discovered its true meaning, she was all too eager to find a reason to cast me here."

"Well, good luck finding the poor soul with Asgard written on the back of their neck," Tony said after taking a sip of his drink.

Loki scoffed and muttered, "Right.. Asgard."

You noted the odd reaction, but remained silent as you knew he had family issues and you thought it best not to touch on that subject.

One by one, each seated member excused themself from the table to carry on with their day. You were one of the first, as you were eager to rush to the lab and begin on your old research. Upon arriving, you threw your hair up into it's usually mess of a bun and got to work.

Nearly half an hour later, you let out a deep sigh as you took a break from reading over your past notes. Nothing you had found then proved beneficial to your situation and it still didn't prove to be beneficial even after your discovery at dinner. You decided you needed a break, but weren't exactly granted that as the elevator dinged and you were met with the sight of the two Asgardians.

"Hello boys," you greeted, covering up any evidence of what you were previously working on. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"My brother requires some assistance," Thor replied, nudging Loki closer in a slightly aggressive manner.

Loki rolled his eyes and said, "Yes, thank you Thor."

You held back a laugh as Thor scanned the room and asked, "Where is Stark and Banner?"

"They went to give their opinion on some new technology SHIELD is developing, but I'm sure I can manage to assist your brother on my own," you politely informed him.

Thor seemed satisfied with your answer and said, "Excellent! I told Captain Rogers I would spar lightly with him, so I should be off. Behave yourself, brother."

With another eye roll from Loki, Thor left the room, leaving you completely alone with the God of Mischief. You carefully eyed him up and down, taking in the few chips in his armour he now wore as opposed to the tunic at dinner, before asking, "What do you need?"

"My armor was slightly damaged upon arriving here. It's nothing of dire need, Thor simply just wished for me to interact with others," Loki commented, not a drop of enthusiasm dripping from his tone.

"Surely you could've handled it own your own?" you inquired, knowing the trickster god had some sort of knack for magic.

Loki shook his head before informing you, "Before, yes. But the Allfather put a few restrictions on my powers while I am to live here, one of them being no personal uses of magic."

"Well that's highly unfortunate," you stated, Loki only nodding in agreement. You turned to retrieve a few supplies you would need to repair his armor as you instructed, "Take the chest piece off."

Loki did as you said, leaving him in his tunic once again, as he watched your retreating figure walking towards another section of the lab. Out of curiosity, he attempted to read the one hint every Midgardian is given about their soulmate, the task proving slightly harder as you continued to walk away. His breath nearly hitched when he was finally able to make out the word along the back of your neck: Jotunheim.

The god couldn't help but stare as his mind raced. There you were, his so-called soulmate, and you didn't have the slightest clue. He almost pitied you, for he couldn't imagine how confused your life must have been, nor could he imagine how disappointed you'll likely be when realizing you've been waiting your entire life for someone like him.

You turned around and began walking back towards him with different materials in hand as Loki thought about how to tell you, if he should tell you, that you were destined for each other.

As you approached him, you placed the materials you had gathered on a nearby table. Loki handed you his chest piece and cautiously asked, "Jotunheim?"

You froze, then quickly snatched the armor out of his grasp. By instinct, your free hand went to rub at your neck as you silently cursed at yourself for being so careless. The lab was such a comfortable place for you, and hardly anyone really visited, so you didn't think twice when you turned your back to the god in front of you.

"Dammit," you finally whispered. You let out a heavy breath before admitting, "Yeah.. Jotunheim, the realm of ice and snow and frost giants."

Loki took in the mockery laced within your words as he carefully dared to dig deeper, "You've looked into it then?"

"Of course I've looked into it," you told him, placing the metal chest piece on the table before rhetorically asking, "How could I not? Especially after you and Thor came down and proved Asgard existed, who's to say Jotunheim didn't?"

"I can assure you, it exists," Loki informed you, an underlying tone to his voice that you couldn't quite distinguish.

You shook your head as you sat down on a lab stool, a bitter chuckle escaping your lips as you spoke, "You know sometimes exactly what you wanna hear, isn't exactly what you wanna hear."

Loki took a seat as well in the lab stool across from you as he carefully asked, "You know of the frost giants then?"

You nodded and replied, "Yeah, which only brings about another unanswered question: how am I supposed to have a soul mate that I can't even touch without worrying about getting frostbite?"

Loki nearly grimaced, but kept his outward composure. The next few moments were held in silence as he thought on how to approach the subject with you, before deciding to just let it out. He started, "Shortly after I was born, Thor's father Odin had just ended a war and agreed upon a treaty with a.. certain realm."

"I don't see how this relates--"

"Just, let me finish," Loki said, he continued after you had fallen into silence, "Odin had just ended a war and agreed upon a treaty with the realm from which I am actually from."

"I thought you were from Asgard?" You interrupted, curious despite the fact you had no idea where he was going with this. After you had recieved a short look from Loki, you apologized, "Sorry, continue."

"Odin had stumbled upon a temple in the aftermath of the war, in which where he found me as an abandoned baby that was left to die, no more than a few months old," Loki told you, standing from his seat and taking a few steps towards you.

You grew more curious and slightly wary as he approached you, but you pressed on, "Where are you from then?"

Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Loki only stuck his hand out towards you. You looked at his hand before glancing up at him in confusion. Loki nearly cracked a smile at the amount of perplexity that swam around in your pupils. The eye contact between the two of you was held until you glanced back down at his hand. For some unknown reason, you felt the need to do as he wished, and therefore reached out to touch his hand.

As soon as you had made contact with his skin, you retracted your hand and stood from your seat in complete shock. His hand was ice cold.

"I-I don't understand," you stuttered out, daring to lock eyes with him again. Loki raised his eyebrows down at you, giving you a knowing look that was enough of a push for you to voice your suspicions, "Jotunheim?"

"Afraid so," he confirmed.

You couldn't quite process the information you had just received. All those years of seemingly meaningless research, just to have your soulmate appear in the building where you happen to work and live in.

Your soulmate, Loki, the God of Mischief and Lies.

Loki could sense your mind racing as he elaborated, "Odin took me to Asgard and raised me as one of his own. It wasn't until a few years ago that even I was informed on my true parentage."

"Wow," you breathed out, completely at a loss for words.

"I know it's a lot to take in--"

"Yeah, no kidding," you cut him off, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that you were meant to spend the rest of your life with an actual god.

You glanced up at him and really took in his features for the first time since meeting him. He clearly wasn't a sight for sore eyes, and he had yet to give you a reason to dislike him since arriving at the tower. Perhaps a lifetime with him wouldn't be so bad after all.

You couldn't help but laugh at your own thoughts and informed Loki, "You know, the others won't take this very well."

"No, I imagine not, nor will the Allfather," he said, nearly tempted to laugh himself.

Your laughter continued as thoughts reeled into your brain at a mile a minute. Loki only smirked at you as he allowed you to get your mind straight before engaging an any serious conversation with you as to what your future may hold. You told him, "Hey, just because we're soul mates and all doesn't mean I automatically trust you. You still have to earn that, you know."

"I know," he honestly responded, "I'd think you a fool if you had thought otherwise."

"Yeah, well lucky for you, I am no fool," you said to him.

"Oh yes," Loki said, believing that the fates may have actually chosen well as you smiled up at him, "Lucky me."

masterlist | thanks for reading!

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acyborgkitty · 6 years

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I just finished watching Jennifer Brea’s incredible documentary Unrest on Netflix. Watch it now. Everyone should.

My story.

I became ill suddenly, and severely, in September (I think) of 2016. I had just moved to Providence in August from San Francisco, without my partner of 10+ years, to take a teaching job at Brown University. I was teaching a poetry workshop for Frequency Writers, a community writing group, as well as a class I developed for Brown’s Literary Arts department, Experimental Poets of Color. Providence is a city I love, and even though the gig was adjunct (i.e. no job security, no health insurance, etc.) I wanted to be in Providence, and I wanted to be teaching in my fiend. I had health insurance through the ACA at the time, and though I had been diagnosed with several mental illnesses many years before (major depression and general and social anxiety disorders) I felt that my hearth was well managed with the medication I was on.

I was so happy to be back in Providence, I would walk for hours around the city, sometimes 7 miles in one stretch, listening to music and books. I was thrilled to be teaching the class I desperately wish I had been able to take at any point in my education (which includes three masters degrees), and to be nearer to my friends and family who live in Boston and the surrounding areas. I missed my partner, but we’ve been long distance for much of our relationship (the price of being an artist in academia), and it seemed like he was getting ready to leave San Francisco and head back east himself.

It was the second meeting, I think, of the Frequency open poetry workshop. It was Wednesday night. I walked to the community gallery space on Carpenter St. where we held our meetings early, unlocked the doors, and made myself some tea. It was a normal night. At some point during the workshop I started to feel exhausted, sick, like I was getting a cold. I pushed through, but took a Lyft home. I woke up the next day and still felt bad. Worse, even. I cancelled that day’s class and stayed in bed. By the next week I still wasn’t feeling any better. I went to the CVS clinic to see if I had the flu, which was going around and apparently quite bad that year. I didn’t, I was told it was just a bad cold, and to take some cough suppressant for the bad cough.

I thought maybe I wasn’t sleeping well - I was tired all the time - and maybe that was making the cold last longer than normal. I had had (undiagnosed) chronic pain for years which had started in 2007 in my first year in grad school. It was especially bad in my neck and lower back, so I had spent years and a lot of money finding a really good mattress. But I had housemates that were young, noisy, up late, so I invested in an eye mask, noise-cancelling headphones that I slept in, and a white noise machine. I had to teach my classes, but I would show up, teach, and come immediately back home and stay in bed until I had to teach the next class. I spent several weeks like this, thinking it was just a cold, until someone pointed out that colds, even very bad ones, don’t last for several weeks.

I made an appointment with my primary care doctor in Boston. I’ve struggled finding doctors that take me seriously, like most women and non binary people I imagine, especially with chronic and challenging illnesses. This doctor listened to me, and was gentle, and that was pretty much all I could hope for. He examined me, and tested me for mono, strep, walking pneumonia (which I’d had before, and which was basically the closest comparable experience I had). I had none of them. Then we tested my thyroid, my B12 levels, and my immune functions. He found nothing wrong with me.

A digression on chronic pain, including a digression on trauma.

I had gone down a diagnostic wormhole several years ago when I’d first started getting tests to see if we could find an underlying cause for my chronic pain. It started in Iowa City, where I did my second graduate degree, and included MRIs, x-rays, testing for immunological disorders, cancers, and basically anything they could think of. Eventually I was referred to a psychologist, because they determined my pain might be a physical manifestation of trauma. And I’d had my share of trauma.

A digression on trauma. I grew up with an emotionally abusive mother who, though never diagnosed, meets all of the criteria for narcissistic personality disorder. I ran away from home as a teenager, living on the streets for most of a year, before re-establishing a relationship with my family, primarily my father who helped me get an apartment, back into school, and eventually into college. At that point my mother re-entered the picture, and my father stopped helping me pay for college, so I worked sometimes as many as 5 jobs while completing my undergraduate degree. I met my partner in undergrad, and he has been an immense help for me in recovering from my trauma, but like so many who were experienced long-term abuse as children, I probably will never be un-affected by my experiences.

So the trauma angle seemed at least plausible to me, and I went to a year’s worth of sessions with two different people, one a psychologist who specialized in and studied the manifestation of trauma as physical pain, and another who practiced CBT and meditative mindfulness therapy. Both helped immensely with my emotional state, but my pain persisted. So when I moved away for my third graduate degree (my first move to Providence) I transferred care and we started the diagnostics all over again. This time I saved all my records - I have my MRIs and my X-rays still in some box somewhere. We did CAT scans and I went to scores of specialists including an orthopedic surgeon who recommended surgery; a chiropractor who works with the Boston Ballet Company who diagnosed me as hyper-flexible and gave me strengthening exercises to do that actually seemed to help somewhat; and a neurologist who found nothing wrong with me at all. After four years of referrals and diagnostics, I found a integrative care physician who listened to me break down in her office, prescribed an anti-depressant that is also a sedative to help me fall asleep, and helped me come up with a plan to manage the pain. Massage, chiropractor, walking and stretching, the anti-depressants, 800mg Ibuprofen when I needed it, and Vicodin when nothing else helped.

After all of this, I wasn’t eager to go down another diagnostic chase.

Back to 2016.

By this point it was the middle of November. I was so sick that I couldn’t feed myself, I couldn’t do laundry, I couldn’t leave the house except for to teach, and then I spent the next 24-48 hours recovering mostly in bed from the fatigue it caused me. I was experiencing sever cognitive deficiencies, most notably my ability to process and retain information, and my ability to speak. It felt like I had dementia, or what I imagine dementia to feel like. I would read the same sentence over and over again and not understand it, or not remember it when I started the next one. I would fight to get up to go into the kitchen, only to forget what I was there for. Did I need water? Had I fed the cat? Did I need to use the bathroom? My father and brother were taking turns coming down to my house to prepare food for me for the week, and to get my groceries, and to do my laundry. I needed help with everything. I could do one, maybe two things in a given day. Those things included brushing my teeth and feeding the cat.

I couldn’t even research my condition, given my cognitive symptoms. I was angry, and many days I felt like it would be better to die. I couldn’t read or write, so I took up embroidery as a way to try to keep my life worth living, a way to keep making art.

In January, 2017 when my partner came to visit for his winter break, we went to my doctor together. I couldn’t remember the questions he wanted me to ask, and I couldn’t have remembered the answers anyway, and I certainly couldn’t get myself there and back without help, so him coming was the only way I was going to get there. I don’t remember much of the appointment, but I do remember my doctor suggested that I might be experiencing a severe prolonged depressive episode. Based on my previous diagnosis of depression. Based on the fact that there seemed to be nothing wrong with me, physically.

My partner didn’t buy it. I sort of did, or at least I didn’t have the energy to dispute it. My partner started researching, aggressively, and a few months later he came up with something. Maybe, he said, it was my copper IUD. Maybe I had copper toxicity. My doctor said that was impossible, that the IUD can’t cause copper toxicity, but my symptoms aligned, and there are thousands of women on the internet who have experienced copper poisoning from their IUD. So one day in April, my best friend took me to the hospital and I had mine removed. The next day, I felt better. Not 100% better, but maybe 40% better. The next day my partner and I went for a walk, the first time in almost a year I had felt able to do that.

I kept feeling better. Not getting better, but I stayed feeling about 40% better. A few days I felt almost entirely myself, but then the next day I would be exhausted again. I could do things, but if I pushed too hard, I would collapse and pay for it for days. I learned about spoons, and disability culture and activism. I learned about setting my limits, and prioritizing. I said no to almost everything, because almost nothing was worth the risk of incapacitation for me.

My brain started to recover too - I could read. I started writing in my journal, not poetry but at least writing of some sort. I felt hopeful that I was recovering. We bought a house, a big old Victorian that needs TLC, and I moved in there with 4 other queer artist friends. I didn’t get the tenure-track job at Brown, but I did get another adjunct offer to teach Book Arts, and I accepted - something I definitely couldn’t have done at my sickest, given that it’s a 15-hr a week studio course.

But now, a year post-removal, my memory is still a problem. And I still get exhausted a lot. A lot more than I used to, before I got sick. But the anecdotal evidence on the copper IUD detox forums says that it could take years to fully process the toxicity out of your system. The most severe days might be attributed to “dumps” - when the body releases stored copper all at once - and those days feel like my worst ones did when I was at my sickest. I had thought that when I felt better, I would start to do things again, go to poetry readings, have dinner with friends, go for walks, be part of the community I’d moved here because I loved. But I still say no to most things, or write them down in my calendar and don’t go. I know that if I push too hard, I’ll pay for it for days. And “too hard” is a moving target - it changes seemingly randomly, and I don’t know when I’m approaching it until it’s too late. Then I’m in bed for days.

I’ve been having an especially bad few days. Maybe a week. Maybe more. My memory, my brain isn’t good at sequence anymore, or keeping track of time. It’s frustrating, because I can’t keep track of my own symptoms. Sometimes I remember to write them down, and sometimes I forget, or am too tired. And there’s no one here to watch me, or help me - my partner doesn’t move here until June. Today, for example, I got up at 11 and I fed the cats. And I was so tired that I lay down, and just...passed out. I don’t remember falling back asleep, but then I woke up at 6 pm. I fed the cats again, and then had to go back to bed. The last week has been similar: do just what is necessary, then back to bed. It feels like I’m sick all over again.

I have had my period, which can be associated with copper dumps. I’m not saying it’s not copper “dumps,” or that it’s isn’t related to copper poisoning. But I watched Unrest and thought: “maybe this is what I have, too?” So many of those scenes were heartbreakingly familiar. I wept through most of it, because Jennifer was saying the things that I’d been feeling. About feeling like it was a good day when all I had done was survived it. About feeling like my life had ended, and that I had a new one now, one that sometimes didn’t feel like a life at all, but one that I still didn’t want to give up. About not being listened to, about not being believed. I wept at the thought of having a diagnosis, after all this time. Of maybe finally at least knowing what is wrong with me. Maybe.

But I don’t know how to find out. I don’t currently have health insurance, because the premium on my ACA policy from last year went up by 50% and I couldn’t afford it anymore, and adjuncts at Brown who teach fewer than 4 classes a year don’t get health insurance, and I’m only teaching 3, and I am barely able to do that; this semester teaching 2 classes took every bit of energy I had. I will get health insurance starting in September when my partner starts his new job in Providence, and maybe then I can get some answers. If I have the energy for it.

My story doesn’t have an ending yet. I’m in bed, as I have been all day. Writing this was the most writing I’ve done since I got sick. I’m grateful for that. It feels like, thanks to the work that Jennifer has done, an important story is at least starting to be told. Not just mine, but one that is shared by millions.

#chronic fatigue #chronically ill #m.e.#m.e./cfs #me/cfs #unrest #millionsmissing #iud copper toxicity #copper toxicity #spoonie #chronic illness #meaction #disability

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newstfionline · 6 years

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Hidden Horrors Of “Zero Tolerance”—Mass Trials And Children Taken From Their Parents

Debbie Nathan, The Guardian, May 29 2018

Federal Magistrate Judge Ronald G. Morgan is in his 60s, with a bright-pink face and a crisp, friendly manner--though lately he has been making disconcerting little mistakes in court. He has spent eight years on the bench in Brownsville, a small Texas city on the U.S.-Mexico border. Morgan knows how to run a court smoothly, but during a morning session I attended in early May, he announced that he’d just dealt with 35 defendants--all at one time--when the actual number was 40. And after the proceedings, he forgot to pronounce their guilt. Marshals had already led them out, so Morgan sheepishly had to call the 40 defendants back to the courtroom to correct his error. These days, he seems distracted and troubled.

That is understandable. In late April, magistrates’ courts in Brownsville suddenly turned into “zero tolerance” factories for criminalizing migrants, many of whom have no prior criminal record. Many are from murderously violent countries in Central America and have fled to the U.S. seeking asylum, and they often arrive with children in tow. It used to be rare to charge migrants seeking asylum with crimes. If they did so, they were put into detention with their children while they pursued their claims. Or they were released with supervision--along with their children. The best interests of the children were considered paramount, and those interests including keeping families together.

But now, in federal courts like Morgan’s, not only are parents finding themselves charged with the crime of “illegal entry,” but the government is breaking up families, sending children to detention centers, often hundreds of miles from their mothers and fathers, or to distant foster homes.

These family separations had been occurring intermittently since last fall, and mass trials have been occurring off and on since “Operation Streamline” was first introduced in 2005. But on May 7, Attorney General Jeff Sessions announced that the U.S. government will prosecute “100 percent of illegal southwest border crossings.” He added that people who were “smuggling a child” will be prosecuted “and that child will be separated from you as required by law.” In practice, this means that even parents fleeing violence to protect their young children will be deemed smugglers--that is, criminals. Sessions’s announcement came just two weeks after an official with the Department of Health and Human Services told Congress that the agency had lost track of 1,475 unaccompanied migrant children it had placed with sponsors.

The anguish that parents communicated in Morgan’s courtroom, and the spectacle of dozens of migrants being convicted and sentenced en masse, in proceedings lasting just a few minutes and with only the most perfunctory legal representation, has shocked courthouse employees. And not just in Brownsville. Taking photographs of federal court proceedings is strictly forbidden. But in the federal courthouse in Pecos, Texas, someone apparently felt so bad about the new policies that they secretly shot a photo of dozens of immigrants clogging a court in orange jumpsuits.

But most Americans do not attend these courts. They live far from the border, and Sessions’s new “zero tolerance” plan seems distant and theoretical. On the border itself, however, the new policy feels close and horribly real. Sessions’s policy of deliberately breaking up families is a new low in U.S. border policy. Today “zero tolerance” is playing out from Texas to California. In Brownsville, it’s driving Judge Morgan to distraction.

Until recently, the procedure that brought a handful of defendants a day to the Brownsville courtroom for criminal prosecution was straightforward. First, Border Patrol agents arrested people after they arrived in the U.S. “by swimming, wading or floating across the banks of the Rio Grande River,” as the government’s boilerplate complaint puts it. Subsequent to their arrests, the detainees were processed at a Border Patrol station that everyone complains feels as cold as an icebox: in Spanish, an hielera.

If a detainee expressed fear to the Border Patrol agents about returning to their country, criminal charges were rarely brought. When immigrants were bussed to the federal courthouse in Brownsville, attorneys from the Federal Public Defenders office also asked the migrants if they feared returning to their country. If anyone expressed credible fear, the public defenders asked the federal prosecutors to drop the criminal illegal entry charges and refer the person directly to the asylum system.

Meanwhile, immigrants who weren’t making asylum claims went through the criminal process. Before the “zero tolerance” policy began, Morgan and another federal magistrate, Ignacio Torteya III, usually took turns seeing between three and eight of these people a day. Most pleaded guilty. Theoretically, the judge could sentence first-time illegal entrants to six months in prison. But they almost always got time served and were then typically deported. The asylum applicants stayed in the U.S.--with their kids--while their cases proceeded.

On April 30, Torteya was on duty and was informed that he had 41 “illegal entry” cases--about six times more than usual. Accompanying each of these immigrants’ criminal cases was paperwork from the U.S. Attorney’s office with a label at the top reading “Attorney General Zero Tolerance Initiative.” Attorneys and staff from the Federal Public Defenders were ordered to represent this startling mass of defendants who would go into court at 10 a.m. The public defenders had less than two hours to speak with all 41 people. That worked out to just a few minutes per defendant.

Soon, this scenario was being repeated daily in Morgan’s court, with the added feature of people telling the judge that they were afraid to go back to their countries--and that the U.S. government was taking away their children.

Each day was the same. The courtroom was filled with exhausted immigrants, with hands cuffed and shackled to their waists, their legs in chains--dozens of defendants stumbling, shuffling, clanking, and clanging in tandem.

By May 10, Morgan was starting to get rattled by the increasingly disturbing content of the allocutions. By then, the government had begun systematically separating mothers and fathers from their children, including children who are preschoolers. A week later, the government announced plans to house the children on military bases.

One woman who spoke about her children in open court was from Honduras. “Is my little girl going to go with me when I get deported?” she asked Morgan.

“Your Honor,” interjected Jeff Wilde, director of the Federal Public Defender’s office in Brownsville, “both she and the man next to her have their children with them. They had a credible fear claim [for asylum]. … Their children have been separated from them, and I’ve been unable to figure out where their children are at this point.”

A young father then said he’d been separated from his 6-year-old and was very worried.

The judge tried to assume his crisp air. But he seemed overwhelmed, with the parents’ worry and with suspicion that the government was misrepresenting to him what was really happening to the children.

“The way it’s supposed to work,” he told the parents, “you’re going to be sent to a camp where your child will be allowed to join you. That’s my understanding of how it’s supposed to work.”

“They told me they were going to take her away,” a mother interjected about her young daughter.

“Well, let’s hope they don’t,” said Morgan. “You and your daughter, you should be joined together.”

And then, for many seconds, he was silent.

Did Morgan know that his assurances to these parents were very likely false? I asked his clerk, who told me that Morgan does not give interviews to the press. But up and down the border this year, from Texas to California, immigrants coming into the United States, even those applying for asylum at ports of entry, have had their children taken from them.

Erika Guevara-Rosas, Americas director at Amnesty International, said in a statement that the U.S. government’s separating children from their parents as they seek asylum is “a flagrant violation of their human rights. Doing so in order to push asylum seekers back into dangerous situations where they may face persecution is also a violation of U.S. obligations under refugee law.”

But with the “zero tolerance” policy, the number of child separations promises to increase. In one week in May, I counted six people in the Brownsville court who said their children had been taken. There have also been reports of similar separations in district courts located in McAllen and Alpine.

One parent who appeared in Morgan’s court was from a Central American country that provides no meaningful protection to women and children who are victims of homicidal domestic violence. She asked for her identity to be concealed, because she fears retaliation by the U.S. government. We will call her Delia. Before fleeing her country, she was for years beaten up, cut, assaulted with guns, and threatened with death by her partner. He also threatened to kill their young child. When she hid in another city, he found her and dragged her home.

Delia said she fled her country weeks ago and went on the road to Mexico, eventually crossing the Rio Grande with her child on an inner tube. She saw three Border Patrol agents watching her and floated in their direction, so she could turn herself in.

Delia said that when she arrived later that night at the hielera--the Border Patrol processing office--she told the officers that she and her child needed asylum. She described the beatings and assaults and death threats. “Oh, come on!” she said the officers snickered. “You and everyone else with that old story!”

“You’re going to be deported,” she remembers them telling her. “And your child will stay here.” The next morning, the child was taken. Delia fell on her knees during the removal, wailing and begging not to be separated. Officials looked on indifferently, she said, as her child screamed incessantly.

When I spoke with Delia a few days later, she was in ICE detention, without her child, hours from Brownsville, and appeared to be in shock. She was having problems concentrating and answering simple questions. She wept constantly. She said she was wracked with fear and worried about her child, with whom she has had no contact since their separation. She could not imagine being deported back to her home country. “He will kill me there,” she said. “He will kill both of us.” Neither could she imagine her child being left behind in America. Her mind seemed shattered.

When she was able to organize her thoughts, Delia talked about two things. One was the child. The other was God.

In Brownsville, Judge Morgan also started alluding to biblical matters. It was Thursday, the fourth day of “zero tolerance” in his court, and defendants were telling their stories. The judge had just asked Holly D’Andrea, the assistant U.S. attorney handling illegal entry prosecutions that day, if it were true that families were being reunited in detention. D’Andrea sounded uncertain, but answered that she thought it was true.

“Tell you what,” the judge said slowly, with a hard edge in his voice, “if it’s not, then there are a lot of folks that have some answering to do. Because what you’ve done, in effect, by separating these children is you’re putting them in some place without their parents. If you can imagine there’s a hell, that’s probably what it looks like.”

Seconds later, he pronounced a blanket sentence for all of the defendants. The chained migrants then shuffled and clanked to their fates, without their children.

#Brownsville #Judge Ronald G. Morgan #zero tolerance policy for migrants #separating children from parents

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