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cosmereplay · 2 months

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Kaladin Didn’t Invent Therapy (And Why That’s Actually Great)

“...You need someone to talk to, Noril, when the darkness is strong. Someone to remind you the world hasn’t always been this way; that it won’t always be this way.” “How do you … know this?” Noril asked. “I’ve felt it,” Kaladin said. “Feel it most days.” - Rhythm of War, Ch. 25 Devotary of Mercy

I’m writing as someone with a background in psychotherapy and peer support, and I'm bursting with excitement about one of my favourite topics. You can imagine why I love Kaladin’s arc in Rhythm of War so much! I actually yelled out loud when I read some of these parts the first time.

I’ve seen people online saying and making jokes that Kaladin invents therapy, and while that could eventually be true, what Kaladin actually invented in RoW is mental health peer support. Psychotherapy as most people would understand it simply doesn’t exist yet on Roshar. However, peer support is a legitimate modality for healing on its own merits. Even more importantly for the story, peer support is something Kaladin would personally really benefit from, and it fits his narrative arc way better than therapy would.

1. Therapy as we know it won’t exist for a while yet.

“We need to study their responses, use an empirical approach to treatment instead of just assuming someone who has suffered mental trauma is permanently broken.” - Rhythm of War, Ch. 25 Devotary of Mercy “Someone needs to talk to them, try different treatments, see what they think works. What actually helps.” - Rhythm of War, Ch. 25 Devotary of Mercy

Obviously, Kaladin has not been educated in battle shock or melancholia or any other diagnosis. In Alethkar there's hardly any knowledge to be had on the subject. Even now in real life, research into effective interventions for various diagnoses is still ongoing, over 100 years after modern therapy was founded.

Building an empirical knowledge base* will take time, not to mention the years it will take to train new therapists across Roshar in how to provide interventions specific to various issues. Therapy as we know it today generally includes time in mentorship with another therapist, so in a way, the first therapist isn't a therapist. 😅 In the meantime, there are people who need help today, including Kaladin.

Peer support can fill that gap because its knowledge base is different. Peers bring their expertise, which is their years of trial and error, successes and failures - their lived experience. Peer facilitators need to know the basics of managing a group, and they have to be willing to share their own experiences and learn from the group. Thus, training peer leaders is relatively quick, and incredibly scalable and adaptable across cultures and many issues/diagnoses.

2. Peer Support is a distinct path to recovery that doesn’t require an expert in therapy.

Kaladin located six men in the sanitarium with similar symptoms. He released them and got them working to support each other. He developed a plan, and showed them how to share in ways that would help...Today they sat in seats on the balcony outside his clinic. Warmed by mugs of tea, they talked. About their lives. The people they’d lost. The darkness. - Rhythm of War, Ch. 33 Understanding “While you can’t force it, having someone to talk to usually helps. You should be letting him meet with others who feel like he does.” - Rhythm of War, Ch. 25, Devotary of Mercy

Kaladin is already positioning himself to align with the values of peer support. Some of these values overlap with therapy, such as dignity, respect, inclusion, hope, and trust. What makes peer support different is a particular emphasis on equal relationships, self-determination, and personal growth (Peer Support Canada, 2022).

In peer support, the group facilitator is not considered an authority like a therapist would be. A peer leader may be further on the road to recovery, but they may not be. They are expected to listen and grow just like any other group member.

Because the leader of the group is also a learner, peer support groups tend to be more collaborative and open-ended. Everyone in the group has something they can take out of it and something to give. Everyone in the group is responsible for managing their own self care, and everyone in the group is responsible for the direction of their own growth. This is different from most therapy groups, which often have a specific focus or goal that the therapist is responsible for implementing. And speaking of responsibility...

3. Peer Support Fits Kaladin’s Narrative Arc Better than Therapy

At his father’s recommendation—then insistence—Kaladin took it slowly, confining his initial efforts to men who shared similar symptoms. Battle fatigue, nightmares, persistent melancholy, suicidal tendencies. -Rhythm of War, Ch. 33 Understanding …he’d learned—these last few months—that his battle shock could take many forms. He was getting to where he could confront it. -Rhythm of War, Ch. 39 Invasion

I think everyone can agree that Kaladin needs to participate in therapy just as much as the other battle-shocked men he finds in the Devotary of Mercy.

However, in therapy, the focus is solely on the needs of the clients. A therapist should not be distracted by their own issues (when this happens, it’s called countertransference). Further, therapy is generally framed such that the therapist is the only expert in the room, which means therapists have a higher level of responsibility for how the clients are doing (which varies depending on the issue, the therapy modality, and the circumstances).

In his own recovery, Kaladin is working on trying to take less responsibility for others, so setting him up as a therapeutic authority could be harmful for him. In a position of authority, he might be tempted to replicate the hierarchical structure he was in before (which would impede his own growth), or try to save everyone (which could impede everyone's growth). He simply doesn’t have the mentorship or knowledge base he'd need to work through those issues before leading as an expert.

In contrast, the point of peer support is the mutual sharing of lived experience. The group facilitator is expected to share their own struggles (as a model of recovery), and allow others to support them. In the context of a more balanced power dynamic, Kaladin can give the other group members the space they need to grow, and he can pursue his own recovery without feeling like he’s letting others down. Also, he will be able to leave the group during KOWT without worrying that the group won't be able to run without him. Everyone in the group carries some responsibility for each other, so group members can come and go with less stress than a change in therapist would cause in group therapy.

This is the beauty of peer support. It can happen anywhere people with similar experiences get together. No formal education is required. What is required is a willingness to know yourself as well as you can; to share your experiences; to listen to others tell their stories; to question your own assumptions as you learn how others handle things differently; to look out for each other's safety; to care.

Peer support creates a place of belonging and a community repository of shared wisdom. Kaladin almost had it on Bridge Four, but his position of authority wouldn’t allow him to grow the way he needed. Peer support is what Kaladin needs - he needs a place where he can take off his armour among people who get it because they're struggling with similar issues, and without having a position of responsibility over them. When he (eventually**) attends the groups, they help him grow!

Anyway, that's why Kaladin didn’t invent therapy, and why I think that's great.

For the men chatting together softly, the change was in being shown sunlight again. In being reminded that the darkness did pass. But perhaps most important, the change was in not merely knowing that you weren’t alone—but in feeling it. Realizing that no matter how isolated you thought you were, no matter how often your brain told you terrible things, there were others who understood. - Rhythm of War, Ch. 33 Understanding

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*Funny enough, empirical research could lead Rosharan researchers right back to peer support. Empirical research on Earth has shown that modern therapy and peer support have similar levels of effectiveness (for example, for depression and PTSD).

**Look who’s resisting attending the groups he founded…KALADIN!! (shakes fist in the general direction of the sky) (This is the most relatable passage for me in this whole book, by the way, helper types unite lmao):

Kaladin looked down at the table. Had it? Had talking to Noril helped? “He’s been avoiding joining in,” Teft said. “I haven’t,” Kaladin snapped. “I’ve been busy.” Teft gave him a flat stare. Storming sergeants. They always heard the things you weren’t saying. - Rhythm of War, Ch. 38 Rhythm of the Terrors

Peer Support Canada. (2022). Peer Support Core Values. Accessed from https://peersupportcanada.ca/ Jun 27, 2022.

#I shared this on reddit a while ago but it got archived so here #enjoy #this is not an april fools thing this is just bad timing on my part #kaladin stormblessed #rhythm of war #row spoilers #kaladin didn't invent therapy #peer support #stormlight archive #the stormlight archive #stormlight essay #stormlight meta #god i love kaladin so much

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dreamingofep · 11 months

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Sinned Awakening

An AU Elvis fic

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis’ full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond belief and your undeniable attraction makes you fear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, mentions of verbal abuse, mentions of drug and alcohol use, blood/gore

Rating: PG-13ish?, will become explicit later on😈

Word Count: 4.2K

A/N: Hello everyone!

As I mentioned before, I had this on the back burner for a while and am very excited to get this out to you. I’ve loved vampires for such a long time and what could be better if you mixed them with Elvis involved🤭 Bit different flow than my other fics in the past but I think you’ll like the mystery behind it all. Please let me know what you think in the comments or send me a message!

Thank you again!

Sorry for any spelling mistakes and overall goofs. 🖤

January 25, 1973

Your bones ached after being on your feet for twelve whole hours. You needed to take off this suffocating uniform too while you’re at it. It clung to you uncomfortably and made you feel gross after a long day. You head to the locker room to change and go home, practically shoving everything in your locker and slinging your purse over your shoulder heading for the door.

“Y/n! Tanya wants to see you!” Someone yells from across the room. You huff, annoyed that she couldn’t talk to you any other time of the day and had to wait for the second you were going to get off. Tanya was your supervisor, she was tolerable, but still got on your nerves. You couldn’t completely hate her. She was the one who gave you a chance and gave you this job in the first place when you and Daniel moved out here.

You take a deep breath and quickly make your way to the back office. You knock on the door before entering and peeking your head in.

“You asked to see me?” You say politely, trying to not show the agitation in your voice.

“Ah yes, y/n, sit down I need to talk to you,” Tanya says sternly. Your stomach turns with her tone and your mind scrambles to find something you did wrong in the past few days.

You take a seat in the ripped-up leather chair and straighten out your uniform.

“I just wanted to talk to you about your performance lately,” she pauses and your heart drops to your stomach.

You don’t respond and wait for her to say something next.

“It’s been exceptional. You have no write-ups and haven’t been late once. Everyone compliments you on how the rooms look after you clean them I’m very impressed. You have definitely made a great impression on management here.”

You look at her a bit shocked, like all of this sounds too good to be true. You always put in all of your effort to do a great job but you never thought you’d get noticed for it. There are over a hundred people on the housekeeping staff and you thought no one would ever notice your work.

“Oh thank you. I appreciate you noticing the effort I’ve put in.” You say shyly.

“So management and I have decided to move you to a different position.” Your eyes brows raise and look at her inquisitively.

“Laura is moving away and that means her job is going to need to be taken over.” You try and wrack your brain for who Laura was but she doesn’t ring a bell. She was very quiet and had a different shift than you so you normally didn’t cross paths.

“Laura took care of the penthouse and I would like you to take over that position.” She says matter of factly and not in the form of a question. You were to do this, no ifs ands or buts.

You stare wide-eyed, almost not believing what you just heard.

The penthouse was where Elvis Presley lived.

The private and secluded king of rock and roll.

The man who changed the world with his voice and moves.

He’d become something of a recluse lately. The public didn’t see him very often other than for shows and he was upstairs in the penthouse for days on end. He had a very mysterious side to him with the way he was acting. He wasn’t the vibrant young rock musician like in the 50s, he was much more refined and had a sullen demeanor. You had never met him before even though you’ve worked here for four years now. You wouldn’t dare wander up to the penthouse to get a glimpse of him or you’d sure be fired. It was clear that when you got hired to not make it up to the penthouse under any circumstances.

You really liked him though, you loved how his voice made you feel. You remember having a few pictures of him in your room in the 60s and flocking to the movie theater with your girlfriends to see his latest picture. And the way those hips moved… oh God focus.

“I-i umm thank you, I appreciate you acknowledging my work. How would this exactly work though? Would the penthouse get put into my rotation every few days or…” you question as your mind runs a million miles an hour realizing you were going to meet Elvis Presley.

“Well you see, Mr. Presley is very… particular. He only calls for housekeeping when he wants it or he will be calling every day so it would be easier if you worked full time up there. We’ll pay you a few extra dollars for this since it is a different pace and everything,” she instructs.

You feel so overwhelmed. Your heart jumps at the fact that you’ve been promoted basically and will be catering to Elvis but on the other hand, Tanya’s tone of how she talks about him makes your skin crawl.

Particular?

What exactly does he do to cause people to talk about him like that?

What the hell does he do all day cooped up in there between shows?

“Thank you for the opportunity, I’d be more than happy to take on this role,” you say confidently.

“Wonderful, you’ll start tomorrow at 3 pm,” she says reaching into the drawer to give you a key to the elevator to give you access to the penthouse.

“3 pm? Isn’t that late?” You ask confused.

She chuckles to herself, “Elvis normally doesn’t get up til then so that’s when your shift starts,” she explains.

You take the key and thank her once more and make a beeline for the door before you can embarrass yourself any further. Heading back to the locker room, you realize nerves rattle your bones. Maybe it’s because it’s Elvis Presley you’re going to be catering to that makes you nervous but you wanted to get home as soon as possible to not freak yourself out and give back the job offer.

You get in your dusty car and onto the freeway to head home. You lived with your fiancé, Daniel, in North Las Vegas in a small two-bedroom apartment.

You weren’t the normal couple by any means, for one you lived together before being married and that was frowned upon by everyone. Your abusive father lived in the bottle and you couldn’t handle living in the same house anymore. You and Daniel were getting serious and he asked if you wanted to move in with him. You thought it was a godsend that you could escape your turbulent household and have somewhere safe. It was safe, but the longer you’ve lived there the more you realize the bad habits he has made normal.

It was 1973 and cocaine was running like wildfire in Las Vegas. If you had some kind of elite status, coke was the drug of choice. Even if you were a no body, you would be offered some at any party you showed up to. And while Daniel tried to act coy and politely refuse it, he would disappear in the bathroom for minutes at a time and come out looking higher than a kite.

You couldn’t forget the night you came home from work and he was high out of his mind, he didn’t even recognize you and in a paranoid episode, he threw his scotch glass at you, screaming at the top of his lungs to get out. The glass hit your forearm and shattered at your feet, leaving shards of glass in your ankles and toes. It scared the living hell out of you and for the first time were petrified of him.

The next morning he didn’t remember any of it, gave no apology and moved on as if nothing happened. It still bugged you and you told him you don’t like it when he does drugs. He assured you he only does it every once in a while and he has it under control.

But he definitely didn’t. Part of you wanted to end things because you could see it going down a dark path, but on the other hand, he was the only love you had known. And in the moments that he wasn’t on a substance, you loved him deeply. You felt the love that you two shared and wouldn’t give up on each other. You met in college and the sparks flew instantly. You had never felt serious for anyone ever and liked being around him. The years went on and he asked you to marry him, you couldn't have been more happy and said yes. He promised he’d take care of you always. For a while, he kept his promise, but lately, that hasn’t been true.

He was a bouncer at different clubs in Vegas and with the late nights for him and early morning shifts for you meant you barely ever saw each other. The apartment was almost always empty and cold as your heart felt. You longed for a fiancé that would miss you and be excited when he saw you home. Instead, you both were two ghosts passing each other, barely acknowledging each other’s presence. You didn’t want to give up, but something was going to have to change in order for you to stay.

It was strange to clock into work so late. Normally you start your shift at 6 am, but today you rolled into work at 2:45 pm and found the locker room completely barren and quiet. Putting on your uniform piece by piece, you realize how self-conscious you felt. It finally hits you, you’re going to meet Elvis Presley in the flesh today and you wanted to make a good impression. There wasn’t a wrinkle left on your blouse or your skirt. You starched the hell out of it where it almost looks like it doesn’t move when you walk. Checking your hair in the mirror, you smooth back some of the fly always and take a deep breath.

You couldn’t pinpoint why you were so nervous, management obviously thought you were right for the job considering your current performance. It was probably the name and the image that intimidated you the most. You couldn’t let down Elvis in any way and if Tanya was correct, you were going to have to conform to his “particular” ways that he wanted things and do everything his way.

The shrill ring of the telephone jolts you out of your straying thoughts and jump up to pick the receiver off the wall.

“Hello housekeeping, this is y/n,” Your voice soft and gentle.

“Mr. Presley is requesting your services in the penthouse as soon as possible,” said the voice in a low, unwavering tone. His voice gives you a chill down your spine and you physically shiver as you stand there with the phone’s receiver in your hand.

“Yes absolutely, I’ll be right up,” you try to say quickly before hearing the click of the other line hang up. You take the phone away from your ear and hang it up, taking a long breath in before turning on your heels to the elevator, trying not to let this first interaction bother you.

Placing the key in the elevator to give you access to the penthouse, the ride up to the twenty-ninth floor felt agonizingly long and you take another moment to straighten out your uniform. Your hands tighten on the cleaning cart and sweat begins to form on the palm of your hands. The ding of the elevator makes you jump and you shake your arms at your side, trying to calm your restless nerves.

“Okay here we go,” you mutter to yourself.

The doors open and a tall man is waiting in front of the elevator for you. He’s wearing all black and dark sunglasses where you can barely see the outline of his eyes. He doesn’t move right away and if you were just passing by, you could almost mistake him for a statue.

You try to find the words but feel incredibly intimidated, you’re not sure if this was the man that called but your heart jumps.

“Right this way,” the man finally says in a short low tone. He reaches out his hand to point you in the right direction and you push the cart out in front of you and make slow, careful steps down the hall. On your left, you reach two double doors, framed with gold accents and a plaque in the middle of the door that read, “Elvis Presley.”

You look back at the man that was closely following you and he nods his head for you to go in. Your hand shakily wraps around the gold handle and pushes the door open. With your back against the door, you keep it open as you pull the cleaning cart into the room, being extra careful to not scratch up the door frame.

The heavy door closes behind you once you’re completely in and there is so much to take in.

The living room is very low-lit, only a lamp in the corner of the room was on and the velvety red curtains kept out all the sun from coming in. The stillness of the room kept you on edge, you don’t see Elvis anywhere to give you instructions of where to start made you keep scanning the room for a sign of life. The room looked like a tornado had struck here as you look down at your feet with plates and various alcohol bottles scattered around. There was a black grand piano by the windows and a large mirror by the the door that connected to the next room you presume.

Something else catches your attention; the way the suite smelled. God, it was the most intoxicating smell that you had ever stumbled upon. Something about it was comforting and refreshing all at the same time. You wished you could put this in a bottle and take it home to make your house smell this good. It almost made you want to lay down and take a nap right here, making you engulfed with it.

“About time you showed up,” a gruff, deep voice says in the corner of the room. Your head snaps back to where the lamp is and you see a tall man dressed in black velvet with a white shirt under his jacket buttoned down to the middle of his torso, exposing his white skin and sunglasses on, blocking his eyes. You swallow harshly and make yourself focus on the task at hand rather than obsessing over how good this place smells.

You clear your throat and make your way to him in the corner of the room, “I’m very sorry to keep you waiting Mr. Presley. My name is y/n, I’m your new housekeeper.” You say timidly, placing out your hand in front of you to shake his. He looks down at your hand, and even though you can’t see his eyes that well, you know he’s looking at you in disgust. You quickly retract it and put it at your side, fidgeting with the hem of your skirt nervously.

“Umm, where would you like me to start cleaning?” You ask, your voice upbeat and trying to hide the fact of feeling like this is rejection in some form.

“Where do you think,” he snaps coldly. Being this close to him, his size of stature looms over you and makes you feel incredibly small. Like he could crush you by just looking at you. Your heart starts to beat faster by that thought and you take some steps back.

“Okay, no problem. Do you mind if I open the drapes so I can see what I’m cleaning?” You ask with a smile.

“I don’t care, just get it done,” he says coldly. You quickly turn and go to the window to pull the curtains apart to let the light in. You turn around and you get a better sense of what the state of the room is in. There was so much trash scattered throughout the room and spilled food everywhere. You take a deep breath, trying to collect yourself, and your eyes find Elvis sitting on one of the chairs in the opposite corner of the room.

You can’t help but stare at him, his pale white skin beaming against the sunlight shining on him. His gold chains hanging from his neck looked like golden strands of an angel’s hair on him. He sat with his legs spread open and his hand resting at his crotch, the other arm resting lazily off the side of the chair. His stature made you think of a king’s. The way he could command a room without saying anything. He was distractingly attractive and your body wanted to get closer to him. It made no sense of why you felt this way. He hasn’t said more than two sentences to you but you feel like crumbling at his feet. He was better looking in person, pictures could not do him justice and you felt bad for staring, but you’re sure he gets it all the time.

You walk over to your cart and take a trash bag out to start clearing the floor, trying to collect your thoughts and not let yourself be so distracted by him. It feels daunting to clean all of this by yourself but you assure yourself that you can do this. You work your way from the windows back to the front door. The entire time though as you are picking up wet soggy food and used cups, you get a chill that runs through your body and looks over your shoulder to find Elvis staring crater-sized holes into your back. Your heart thumps wildly, something about him made you incredibly nervous. But another part of you liked it. It was awful you shouldn’t be feeling like this! You were engaged for God's sake and can’t have your mind wander like that when a man gives you an ounce of attention.

At least he gives you attention…

After 4 bags of trash, you start to dust and carefully put back all his miscellaneous items back in their place.

“Make sure you make the bathroom spotless,” he directs.

You nod your head at him, “Yes sir, absolutely. Do your other rooms need to be done today?” You say.

“Yes the other rooms need dusting,” he says, “but under no circumstances do you go in my bedroom without my permission. I forbid it.” He says harshly. You feel goosebumps form on your arms as he says this and stares at you from behind the sunglasses.

You swallow and clear your voice, “yes sir. Thank you for letting me know,” you say without your voice wavering.

He follows you to every room you go in and watches you like a hawk. Silently critiquing your every move, waiting for you to make a mistake you presume. He keeps a safe distance away from you most of the time but other times, he gets so close that you could almost bump into him. The closer he is to you, the more suffocating it feels. Suffocating yet alluring. Like you don't want to leave his side. It’s such a strange feeling to have when you’re around someone. You always avert your eyes when you move around him to clean the next area, it’s the only way you could get things done.

The last room is finished and you pile everything on your cart. It only took four hours but you did it. You start pushing the cart towards the door again when the sudden boom of his voice fills the room.

“There’s a bottle underneath the piano,” he grumbles.

Shit, you think to yourself. He's already ticked off.

You quickly make it to the piano and set the bench aside, kneeling down on your knees to crawl underneath. Your eyes scan for the bottle he said was here but you can’t find it. You reach your hand out and crawl on the floor until you hit the curtain and you hear a clank hit the wall. The bottle had rolled under the curtain and was laying flush against the baseboard. The expensive bottle glimmered when you pulled it away from the curtain and it hit the light, revealing a crack down the middle of it.

How the hell did he see this, you think to yourself annoyed. He probably planted this here to test you and you failed perfectly. Probably is going to make a complaint and ask for another housekeeper. Fucking idiot.

You crawl backward out from underneath the piano and stand back up. You quickly turn around and Elvis is standing inches away from you, his breathing heavy. Your body jumps when you see him and gasp at his close proximity, your hands involuntarily squeezing on the bottle, making it shatter in your hands.

You cry out as you feel shards of glass get pierced into your palms. You drop the remnants of the bottle on the floor and watch the glass fall at your feet. Letting out a frustrated groan, you stare at your palms filled with glass as blood starts to quickly leak out of the wounds, the pain stabbing at you over and over.

Elvis makes a frustrated groan and grabs your wrist, squeezing it uncomfortably tight. You gasp again at not only the pressure around your wrist but how cold and disturbingly strong he was.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He barks loudly, sending another chill through your body. You try to back up and the piano keys hit your thigh, making a tumultuous amount of sounds behind you as you try to get free from his grip. Your balance gets wobbly and you place your other hand on the keys to keep yourself from not topping over. The pressure of this only makes the shards of the glass go deeper inside your hand and you cry out loudly again. Your blood smears onto the keys and tears well in your eyes.

“Ahhh! Please, I'm so sorry about this. Let me clean this up,” you cry. You glance over at the other hand he is holding up and see the trails of blood drip drown your arm, his fingers also covered in your crimson blood. Your eyes grow wide and your breathing becomes uneven. So does his. He can't calm down with what you've just done.

“Get the fuck out,” he growls violently, disgust filling his voice. Your body shakes uncontrollably and he quickly lets go of your wrist. Your feet try to scurry away but they feel like jello as you manage to stumble your way to the door. You pick the large shards out of your palm and throw them on the floor. You don’t care about the mess you’ve made you just need to get away from him.

You’re in too much of a panic to grab your cart and reach for the handle of the door, smearing more of your blood in his suite. You push the door open and bolt past the men that have congregated at the door, having heard Elvis’ outbursts. Slamming the back of your hand on the elevator button, the doors quickly open and you rush in, pushing the basement floor and your chest heaves as you watch the doors close.

Your head spins and you feel like you could puke. The wrath that Elvis exhibited was terrifying. He acted like he was a caged animal watching you stand there bleeding. You knew you were going to get called into the office tomorrow morning and get either demoted or just fired.

You turn on the faucet and let the cool water spread over your wounds, wincing at the pain. You pick out the remaining small shards in your hand and go find the first aid kit. You wrap both of your hands with gauze and the bleeding finally stops. Glancing at the clock it’s past 7 o' clock and you don’t know where to go. You assumed your shift was over since he kicked you out but you didn’t want to go home to Daniel that was surely waking up soon to go to work and get a million questions of where you’ve been.

After you calm yourself down, you go to the parking lot and get in your car where you can feel the tears well in your eyes after a terrible day.

You made Elvis incredibly upset. He yelled at you and kicked you out. You couldn't do the one thing you were supposed to do and you bled all over his suite. Your heart jumped into your throat when you thought of what Tanya was going to say to you tomorrow morning. Resting your head on the steering wheel, you let all the tears come pouring out. Sobs and gasps fill the empty car and you try to calm yourself down but it doesn’t work, you’re too upset at your actions and you feel the world collapsing around you.

Suddenly, you get a chill that runs through your body, the same type you got when Elvis was staring at you intensely. You quickly lift your head off the steering wheel and peer out into the dark garage. There’s not a soul there as sirens go off in the distance. You shake your head at yourself, foolishly thinking Elvis would ever come down from the penthouse and check on you and possibly apologize.

You put the key into the ignition and start the car, driving away from the hotel as you prepare yourself for tomorrow’s firing.

•

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icaruspendragon · 1 year

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i kept on forgetting yesterday was my birthday.

the reminder came in waves throughout the day.

when i would check my phone and see another message congratulating me on becoming another year older. or someone saying they were thinking of me. or when i wondered why everyone kept asking me specifically what i wanted to do next. once it was the realization the 25 years i spent being a little sister hadn’t been unlearned in the 1 year i’ve spent being an only child. another time was when i realized i didn’t feel any different even though everything was different. i remembered again when i realized i kept forgetting.

all day long, i kept waiting. waiting for the “it’s my birthday” feeling.

it never came.

my only visitors that day were friends trying their hardest to make me smile. sadness that their best efforts weren’t working. disappointment that i didn’t get any gifts day of, even though i had said i didn’t know if i wanted to celebrate.

how am i supposed to celebrate my birthday on the day my brother killed himself?

it’s kind of funny, when i think about it. the fact that i didn’t have any control over the day i was born, and because we think the gun accidentally fired, you didn’t have any control over the day you died. so it really is a terrible coincidence it happened on the same day.

horrendous serendipity.

it doesn’t really matter.

i don’t have a birthday anymore, i think.

it’s okay, though.

because you don’t have birthdays anymore, either. maybe it was your final gift. because when we were little kids you knew that all i ever wanted

was to be just like you.

#personal #cw grief #cw suicide #cw death #poetry #maybe #i don’t know

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whereianonymouslypostfics · 1 year

Text

Birthday

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~4.5k

Summary: It's your birthday and you and Wanda have big plans

A/N: Wanda, Wanda, WANDA. Sometimes you don't think things through...part 2/3 of Wanda getting in trouble with her SO

Warnings: Angst, conflict, sketchy behavior

You turned 25 today and besides being old enough to rent a car, you hadn’t ever expected this birthday to be special. You hadn’t given a lot of thought to it honestly, but at this point in life, you hadn’t expected to really be dating anyone, especially not a criminal. You are still trying to come to terms with that despite it being more than a year since you met Wanda. You wonder sometimes how different your life would have been if you hadn’t noticed her that day. Would you even be dating anyone? Would you have met at any point? You'll never know the answer to either of these questions and you didn’t really care.

All you cared about was that tonight Wanda had promised to take you to dinner and then spend the rest of the night with you doing whatever you wanted. You had considered what this could be because you had a lot of options. You’d concluded that whatever you did was going to involve food, cuddling, dogs, horror movies or sex. You’d like them all, but you knew what happened when you got greedy.

The only thing you really wanted was to spend time with your girlfriend who you didn’t see nearly enough. Sex would be nice too since it had been over a week, and it was your birthday, but sometimes you just took what you could get.

You frown again as you look to your phone for the fourth time in ten minutes. Wanda had been very communicative this morning when she’d wished you a happy birthday and told you that she’d pick you up tonight at 6. You’d talked to her a little more before she’d gone to work, and now that classes were over and it was 5pm, she wasn’t answering your texts or calls.

You tried not to worry because you knew that she couldn’t have her phone in front of her all the time. You just hoped that she wasn’t going to be late.

“What do you mean you can’t make it?”

You hope you sound as annoyed as you really are because it’s 6:10 and Wanda is just now calling you to cancel. Not just dinner either. She’s cancelling your entire night with her and you are very close to blowing up at her and crying right after. You listen to her excuse; her normal work excuse and you suddenly feel as insignificant as they come. You frown deeply and try not to cut off Wanda’s rambling apology. You've heard it all before, and despite hoping that tonight would be different, you're reminded once again that you're not a priority for her.

“I’m so sorry, detka, but this is something that can’t wait. If it doesn’t happen tonight I won’t have another chance for months and I’ve been working on it for almost a year. I promise we’ll do something tomorrow, okay?”

You don’t respond immediately because you don’t know what to say. Rather you don’t know how to say it without sounding as deeply disappointed as you are. You’d been looking forward to this day for weeks because you were certain that if any day you’d convince your girlfriend to ditch work, it would be today. Still, you suppose there’s nothing you can do about it now but pout, and you sit back down at your dining room table with a sigh. You’re wearing a nice dress that you know Wanda likes, and you’d actually done more than just run a brush through your hair. Still, it didn’t matter, you were sure that you’d just spend the night on the couch now that it was just you.

“Okay. Good luck, Wands.”

You don’t say anything else before you hang up on her. Sure it’s a little childish, but you mostly don’t want her to hear you cry. You sit in the kitchen for a few minutes feeling sorry for yourself before you go to the fridge and get one of the cupcakes your friend had brought to class for you. You smile slightly at the reminder that you do have people who love you and would spend your birthday with you. You practically inhale your cupcake before opening your phone and going to the group message you have for your friends.

Hey. Someone had to work tonight, so now I’m all alone :(

It only took 2 minutes for two of them to text and then the third to call you to make plans. They weren’t going to let you sit home alone and depressed on your birthday. They were taking you out and you were going to celebrate whether you liked it or not.

Wanda was still feeling guilty when she met with her client a little while later. She knew it was futile to hope that this would go quickly and that she would be able to see you before an obscenely early hour. She couldn’t help it though, and she clung to this thought just to get her through the nearly two hours-worth of drinks and smelly cigars. She was actually thinking she could go home around midnight when negotiations were finished, but afterwards she’d been promised a celebration and was escorted to a club.

Wanda decided that she’d drink more at this one because she had a bad feeling that she wouldn’t be seeing you tonight.

“Come on Y/n! You only turn 25 once!”

You are still cringing when you and your friends arrive to your third, and hopefully last, stop of the night. You’d been taken to dinner at the place that you’d reserved with Wanda and despite it being ridiculously expensive, your friends covered it all. Then you’d gone to a bar and had a few drinks and spent a couple of hours laughing and forgetting that you’d been ditched tonight. You were so grateful that your friends had your back and you had been ready to call it a night after that when you were told that you had one more stop.

“We’re getting you a lap dance for your birthday!”

You’d been stunned and sightly horrified by the prospect of this once you’d realized they weren’t joking. Something like this didn’t interest you, and even as you walked into the club and saw a lot of beautiful women, you still weren’t comfortable with the idea. You figured you could buy yourself some time by dragging everyone to the bar for drinks. You might be able to make them forget why you were here altogether if you got them drunk enough.

“You’re not serious.”

Wanda looks to her left to where Steve is standing next to her looking as uncomfortable as she is incredulous. She did not guess this is what ‘celebrating’ would entail, and she’s already planning a hasty exit when she and Steve follow the group of men into the gentlemen’s club. She’s never been here before and she’s eternally grateful when she’s immediately hit with the too strong smell of perfume and faint cigarette smoke that hits her as she walks through the doors. She sighs inaudibly as she looks to the large booth that the group is starting to fill. She barely spares the vast room a glance as she tries to decide how much she’ll be able to drink.

“Sit, please. We’ll close the deal with a little celebration.”

Wanda doesn’t have time to ask what that means when three women, three dancers walk over to them. She has to keep her mouth from dropping at the fact that they are basically naked. They have tiny triangles and strings that comprise their tops, and thongs that leave nothing to the imagination. Wanda watches in muted horror as 2 of the men are led away from the table and the third woman holds a hand out to her. She’s already trying to come up with an excuse when the client she had to impress spoke up.

“I-.”

“Ms. Maximoff. Please, enjoy yourself. On me.”

Wanda flounders and looks to Steve for help but he can’t really do anything. He can’t speak up just like she can’t refuse without seeming rude. This deal is too important for it to fall apart now, and Wanda takes a deep breath as she stands up slowly and takes the blonde’s hand. She hopes hers isn’t sweaty but she’s so nervous she feels like she’s sweating bullets. This is not what she planned on doing tonight, and she tries not to think about how you'd react to this.

Wanda looks back to Steve who understands and stands up to follow her. Polite or not, Steve was Wanda’s security detail so he went where she did.

“I’ll just stand outside.”

Wanda tries not to panic at the thought of being alone with a dancer who’s been paid who knows how much to do who knows what. She knows that this place is higher-end than the normal strip club, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t about to get an eyeful. She tries not to think about how she should be at home with you right now watching a terrifying movie. Instead she’s here trying not to watch as she’s given a lap dance that she’s only accepting for the sake of being polite.

“Relax, dear. You’re so tense. Let me help with that.”

You’re laughing at your friend’s joke when you notice him. You’d glanced around the club just out of curiosity, and you stop cold at the sight of a familiar face. You frown and try to figure out if you can sneak away to talk to him. You finish the rest of your drink before excusing yourself and insisting that you’ll be right back.

You hurry across the room and look around for the bathroom before trying to get the man’s attention.

“Hey! Steve, what are you doing here?”

When Steve hears your voice, he begins to panic. He turns to see you shooting him a confused look, and he takes a moment to wonder what he’d done wrong to be put into this situation. You’re dressed up, probably out with some friends since Wanda had to change her plans, but why you ended up here of all places, he’ll never know. Steve tries to offer a small smile, but you speak up before he can ask what’s on his mind. He has to swallow the lump in his throat at your suspicious look.

“Wait, who are you here with?”

Steve doesn’t really need to answer. Not when his eyes widen before his gaze goes to the boring black carpet beneath his feet. He avoids your eye contact successfully for only 3 seconds before he has to look back up at you.

“Is-is Wanda here?!”

You look around for your girlfriend, but you don’t see her anywhere. You don’t see anyone you recognize and you’re about to start looking in every room for her when a door opens nearby. Wanda spots Steve and nearly runs to him, but the sight of someone in between the two of them makes her stop short. When she realizes who it is she nearly vomits.

“Steve, let’s--.”

You turn around slowly at the sound of your girlfriend’s voice, and you see someone barely clothed leave the room that she just left over Wanda’s shoulder. You just stare at Wanda and she stares at you for a minute before you feel the urge to cry overwhelm you. You spin around on your heels and head back to the bar to tell your friends that you’re going home.

“Y/n, wait!”

You realize that Wanda’s following you and you spin around again to shoot her a glare so vicious it stops her in her tracks.

“Don’t fucking talk to me. I’m leaving and you better not fucking follow me.”

You get a minute alone to thank your friends for taking you out before claiming to feel sick. You stay with them long enough to book a ride home, and show them that you’re not going to get murdered before you head outside. Despite being able to relax briefly to hug the trio, you feel yourself tense immediately when you realize that someone’s followed you out here.

“Did I not make myself clear?”

It was hard to misinterpret what you’d said, but Wanda was desperate for you to understand what happened tonight. She hadn’t skipped out on celebrating your birthday with you to come to this glorified strip club. Well, she had, but she really hadn’t wanted to. She would have much rather spent the night with you.

“Y/n please. Let me explain. I’m here with those stuffy looking men for work. I didn’t want to come here tonight, I promise.”

You’re not looking at her. You’re staring out into the night and looking between your phone and the stagnant parking lot waiting for your ride to get here. Still, you can’t ignore her completely and you take a few seconds to process what she’s said. You’re not sure what to believe. You’re angry because Wanda left you alone on your birthday, and in an attempt to salvage the night you’d run into her at a freaking strip club of all places. You honestly knew way too little about her work because this is not something you would have ever expected your girlfriend to do.

You’d imagined her in shootouts and torturing lowly criminals. Maybe she’d sit around and drink with a bunch of old white guys and discuss their business of murdering people as casually as if they were talking about the weather. You hadn’t expected them to frequent places like this, but putting a little more thought into it, you realize it’s not completely unreasonable. You hate it, but you could see why a group of ‘stuffy men’ might want to end up here.

That said, there was no circumstance where Wanda could justify what she’d just done to you. She could tell you it was a for work, or that she had to just keep up appearances but you didn’t care. It was betrayal any way you looked at it, and for this you didn’t even want to look at her.

“Did you also not want a lap dance because it looks like you got one?”

Wanda falters for a second time as she tries to come up with an explanation. She knows that you might not believe her, but it’s the truth and she can’t tell you anything else.

“I didn’t. Detka, please. I swear I didn’t. I just--.”

You realize that your ride is pulling into the lot and you thank whoever is listening that you’ll get to escape this conversation. You already feel tears starting to fall as you consider what Wanda did, or swears she didn’t. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head before you take a deep breath and step toward the lot.

“Why should I believe you, Wanda? You never told me what your work involved but I can’t imagine that cheating is part of it. I don’t care what you have to say. We’re through.”

You don’t look back as you get in the car that pulls up to you and asks for your name. You ignore Wanda’s pleas as you slam the door behind you and turn away from the window. Wanda watches as you drive away and she curses under her breath before turning around to run back inside to find Steve. She doesn’t care what happens with her deal anymore. It should be closed and if not, well she’ll figure it out later. Right now, she needs to do whatever she can to make this right with you.

You don’t make it easy for her. The next day, you go to class like usual, but otherwise you’re locked in your apartment with the deadbolt in place so Wanda can’t get in. You listen to music to both block out her voice and your intrusive thoughts whenever you’re at home, so you barely notice as Wanda comes and goes. Rather how she doesn’t leave at all. She spends hours sitting outside your door calling and texting you, but it all goes unanswered. She spends nearly 24 hours trying to get you to talk to her before you even look at her.

“What is it, Wanda?”

You barely pay her any mind as you walk down the flight of stairs to the parking lot to your car. You have class soon and you’re probably going to be late, but you’d known she was out here so you didn’t want to leave. You’d delayed it as long as possible and you hadn’t been prepared for the sight of Wanda outside your door. Despite knowing she was there; you hadn’t expected her to look so haggard. She was still wearing what you’d seen her in at the club, and she looked exhausted. You were pretty sure that if you tried you could knock her off balance with just a touch.

“Y/n, please, can I just tell you what happened?”

You continue down the stairs and start rifling through your purse for your keys with a shrug. You don’t even want to go to this class, and the closer you get to your car the less motivated you are to even bother.

“You can talk all you want, Wanda. I’m just not really interested.”

You open the car on just your side, watching as Wanda stops behind you and considers her options. You get in your car and watch as Wanda steps closer, nearly falling as she loses her footing. She’s barely hanging on and despite being angry at her, you don’t want to see her hurt herself.

“Well, um-like I told you it was for work. We’d closed the deal but Mitch had wanted to celebrate which I hoped meant drugs or something. I didn’t expect a fucking lap dance and I didn’t get one. It was horrible. I just sat there and talked about you for a few minutes before she took pity on me and said she’d tell them I cooperated.”

You start the car but stop short when she says this. You can tell that she’s telling the truth. She’s crying and you’d listened to enough of her rambling voicemails to match what she’s telling you now. You sigh in defeat as you roll up your window as Wanda continues to cry. You’re not going to class anymore. You don’t care enough and you’re too worried about Wanda to leave her alone right now.

Wanda barely notices you roll up the window or turn off the car as she wipes her eyes. She’s so tired and crying now is making her already existing headache excruciating. She needs to lie down and probably eat something, but she can’t leave. She can’t leave until you know how sorry she is and that she won’t give up on you. She needs you to know that she loves you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I love you. P-please don’t leave me.”

Wanda is startled by the sound of your car door slamming again and she jumps at the sight of you. You’re standing in front of her as you sigh in defeat, and reach out for her with a frown.

“I’m not leaving. I hate this class anyway.”

Wanda doesn’t know how to respond, but she just follows as you lead her back upstairs to your apartment. You wrap your arm around hers to hold her steady as you open your door. She’s started to sway dangerously and she just watches wide-eyed as you lead her into your place.

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You sit Wanda down on your bed as you search for a change of clothes for her while the tub fills. You figure sitting down will be better than trying to get Wanda to shower now, and you know she’ll feel better if she gets clean before falling into bed. You find her clean clothes and set them and a towel in the bathroom before waving her in there. You make sure she has everything she needs before leaving her alone. She’s a little confused by your change of heart, so she only manages a stunned ‘thank you’ as you head to the kitchen.

You’re making food for you and Wanda when you hear her come out of the bathroom. You’d figured she’d stay in there longer, but the sound of her footsteps coming down the hall tell you that you thought wrong. You look up from the pan in front of you to see Wanda’s clean and changed into more comfortable looking clothes. She still looks tired, so you hurry to finish up her food as you gesture to the counter.

“There’s some water for you. I’m sure you’re thirsty.”

Wanda nods as she goes to sit at the counter with a sigh. She leans on it heavily as she tries not to fall asleep before she gets to eat. She’s starving, but she’s also very aware of the fact that you’ve barely responded to her pleas and explanations of what happened. She can tell you’re still upset, but she doesn’t know what you’re thinking right now and it’s stressing her out.

“Stop stressing. I’m not just getting you back on your feet before I kick you out.”

Wanda looks up in surprise and you can’t help but smile slightly at how stunned she looks. You hate that she’s so worried, but you’re not going to lie to her. You finish up plating her food before you walk over to the counter to hand it to her with a smile. You grab her a fork before sitting down beside her with a sigh.

“I’m still angry and despite how much I want to just make it about my birthday, I really just hate that I had to see you at a fucking strip club.”

Wanda cringes slightly at this but she just waits for you to finish. She’d spent a couple of hours lying against your door last night wondering how she’d feel if she’d been in your place. She would have been furious and she probably would have dumped you on the spot too. That said…she knew you’d never do something like this to her. She didn’t care about the circumstances; you’d never entertain anything so suggestive if you were in a relationship. It was a little complicated and difficult to really rationalize because of it. You sigh again as you run a hand through your hair. You’d been doing this nearly all day and you’re sure you’ve pulled out a fair amount at this point.

“I don’t want to know about the details of your work, Wanda. For both of our sakes, but I want to be able to trust that you won’t do something like this again.”

Wanda’s already nodding but you don’t give her a chance to speak up. She’s still holding her fork and not eating as she waits for your verdict. She wouldn’t blame you for not wanting anything to do with her after this, but she prays that you’re more forgiving than she’d be. She knows you are. You’re also not as prideful as she is, so again, it’s not fair to try to judge you based off her own standards.

“So don’t do something like this again, or we’ll be over, okay?”

Wanda reaches out for your hand and you only hesitate for a second before you take hers. She squeezes it and you take a deep breath as she promises to not fuck up like this again.

“I won’t. I promise. I won’t step foot in there again, or any place like it.”

You nod and offer Wanda a smile as you push her glass towards her. She gets the hint and she starts to drink and then eventually eats what you cooked for her. She’s not sure what she did to deserve you, but she’ll be damned if she does anything to lose you for good.

“Good, well eat up. I haven’t slept in almost 24 hours and would like to go to bed.”

You can’t help but laugh as Wanda near shovels the food into her mouth, and you reach out to stop her as you shake your head. She looks to you nervously with a mouth full of food and you can’t help but sigh in defeat. You love this idiot and you hope she doesn’t give you a reason to leave her.

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x you #silver spring au drabble #silver springs au #silver springs #silver springs drabble

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thissying · 10 months

Text

Max interview with Frank Woestenburg, Formule1 magazine, Dutch GP Special 2023

(translation by me. please don't repost elsewhere.)

Max, do you ever think about the life you lead? You’re 25 years old, a two-time F1 world champion, title number 3 is on its way and one record after another is shattering. You’re living your dream, so to speak. Aren’t you ever afraid that anything that comes your way after F1 won’t give you the same satisfaction, kick or adrenaline?

“It will be different, I’m aware of that but maybe that’s a good thing. There’s always a lot of pressure on you during a race weekend, and that’s year after year. Maybe it’s actually nice to, at some point, just do the things you enjoy doing and be relaxed about it.

A lot of people say I will miss this life and the pressure it brings. My dad says it, too. But personally, I don’t think so. When you’ve done this often and for a long time, you’re done at some point. Not now, of course, but there will come a time when it’s enough. Don’t forget: I started in go-karts when I was four. One day you will start wondering when constantly having to extract the best out of yourself to achieve the highest will end.”

I understand that but it’s become your second nature. You don’t just switch that off.

“True, I don’t know any different. And in other areas I will probably be wanting to get the best out of myself. But when something doesn’t work out later, it’s not a disaster. It’s all a bit more relaxed.”

You’ve been critical of the busy F1 calendar several times, the constant travelling, the downsides of being well-known. At some point…

“…it’s been enough, yeah. I’ve always said 24 race weekends is a lot. It’s not just the races but everything around makes it hard. All the marketing activities, simulator days, personal sponsor obligations. You don’t actually have any free days left.”

So often it really feels like a challenge.

“Yeah, and I talk about it very often with the people around me. Those are all things that play part in the decision on how long you will continue. Of course I’m happy to be in the position to be able to make those decisions for the future myself. The goal was always to become world champion and win races. That’s been achieved. I’ve said it before: anything that comes after that, is a bonus.”

As if you’re not busy enough, recently you’ve also got the Verstappen.com Racing project that you’re investing a lot of time in.

“That too, but that is actually something that gives me energy.”

Can you tell me what the project Verstappen.com Racing entails?

“It’s still in its infancy. Through Verstappen.com Racing we sponsor and support several race activities of people close to me with council and advice. It all started with sim racing with Team Redline. A lot of people still think that sim racing isn’t professional, but it’s very serious and I really spend a lot of hours to get everything right and trying to beat everyone. Besides that, we’re also active in DTM and GTWC Sprint with Thierry Vermeulen and my dad in rallying, but the ultimate goal is to set up a race team. We’ll start in GT3 and then we’ll see where it ends. If it ends…”

“When I do something, I want to do it right. I want to win, with this as well. And it’s about creating a stepping stone from sim racing to GT3. So that you can’t only reach autosport through karting, because that costs a ridiculous amount of money at the moment. Compared to that, sim racing is a lot cheaper. And of course, such a switch is possible. It has happened before, but it’s never really been really successful, for several reasons. I believe that, when you go about everything very professionally, you can build up a beautiful racing career through sim racing.”

How do you envisage the structure? Will Team Redline be called Team Verstappen.com Racing, for example?

“No, not that, but in the end the two will be connected. And not everyone in the sim-team can handle a real race car, but the few guys who I think do have that potential, I want to help along, like with the GT3 team for example. I think GT3 is a nice category, in which you can drive all the appealing endurance races. A junior class for Formula cars doesn’t appeal to me. Formula 3, Formula 2… you don’t get enough driving time while it costs a lot of money. In the GT3 class you drive a lot more races, but there’s a different atmosphere. A bit more relaxed.”

And what are the future ambitions, assuming your own GT3-team is the first step?

“Well, you never know how things will go, but there’s always ambition. It depends on how many good people we will have in the team and how much know-how there is, but it would be nice if we grow to the highest level in endurance racing.”

You once said you wanted to take part in the 24 Hours of Le Mans. Of course you will be doing that in a car of your own team?

“Yeah, that would be awesome wouldn’t it? Who knows.”

When it comes to Verstappen.com Racing, you’re involved in every decision, so the design of the logo as well. The link with Red Bull is very visible in it.

“I think it’s two beautiful brands together. If I can imagine ever driving for a different team in Formula 1? Well, not at the moment, no.”

Do you have a time-frame in mind for the further development of Verstappen.com Racing?

"Absolutely, we’re very busy with that at the moment. The next step is our own GT3-team. Next year is going to be tight, but I want it as soon as possible. A GT3-team in 2025, that should be do-able. With a minimum of two cars then.”

You’re talking about 2025, that’s very soon.

“We’re well under way. We’re passed the planning stage. We’re already in action mode.”

That must be an exciting prospect for you, your own team. But what role do you see for yourself? Team boss? Team manager?

“I don’t see myself as a Christian Horner per sé. But I do want to know and be involved in everything, advise and sometimes be at races physically, if it fits with the schedule. Mostly, it’s important to have the right people in the right places. For myself, I see mostly an advisory role, where I will also be critical.

If I would be more a Christian Horner type of team principal or more a Guenther Steiner type? Haha, I think neither. I think I’m more like my dad. In the past, when I was little, I always said: ‘I’m not like my dad’. But as I’m getting older, I notice more and more how much I am like him. How much energy I put into things to get them just right, how serious I can be about that and how much time I spend on it. That eternal need for perfection I got from him. In the end, those are only good traits, I think. There are a lot of talented people in the world, but there are also a lot of lazy people. The people who settle for second or third best, usually drop out. And it’s the people who hate becoming second or third, who always keep going, who never give up, who will make it.”

Let me guess, it’s the last category of people you will want in your team?

“Of course! That’s already the case with Team Redline. You always want people who work harder than anyone else. You see that at Red Bull too, actually.”

Are you already scouting for the right people?

“We’re looking. Not just me, but my dad as well. It’s nice that I can involve him in this. And he thinks it’s a beautiful project. He now drives rally under the Verstappen.com Racing flag, but it makes sense his role extends beyond that. We’re still working out the details, but a mentor-like part would suit him well and he likes the idea.”

What do you think of your dad having started driving rally racing?

“I think it’s nice. He needs the adrenalin and that’s okay, but rally racing is dangerous, too. He’s had some serious shunts already. But I do like seeing it and he’s very serious about it. It wouldn’t be my thing. Driving across a terrain with a rally car is fun, but those stages driving between trees and houses, no, that’s not my thing. I haven’t sat beside him yet either. I trust my dad with a lot of things, but that prospect is not as appealing.

Speaking of risks and safety: the fatal accident of Dilano van ‘t Hoff at Spa had a big impact on everyone, on you too. These are moments of reflection. When you look at yourself, do you handle risks differently from when you were young?

“I don’t know, but you’re thinking process is different. I know what I was like when I drove Formula 3. There was no fear. I don’t have that now either, but I do think more about the consequences of my actions. What would happen if… Back then, you never thought about that, you drove purely on instinct. I’m not talking about Dilano now, because he got hit by someone else, but generally speaking, as a junior driver you take more wild risks than at a later age.”

The accident got a lot of people thinking. Like, should you as a parent put your kids in a go-kart?

“Those thoughts are logical, but on a bike in Amsterdam your kid can also get run over. Risks are part of life or you put yourself in a body cast and sit at home. But of course you think about it. Me too, yes.

When the news about Dilano came out, I posted a message on social media. A while later, I saw Dilano’s sister had replied: ‘Max, you were his great role model. Thank you for this message.’ That reaction did something to me. Then I immediately think about my own family too for a minute. You think: Shit, if this had happened to me, then they… You really think: Fuck.”

Do you then, for example, talk about the autosport risks at home with your girlfriend Kelly?

“No, not that. She comes from a racing family herself and knows what autosport entails. As far as that is concerned, she’s seen enough of it in her family. After his Formula 1 career in 1992, her dad (Nelson Piquet) was in a serious crash ahead of the Indy 500 and had severe injuries on his feet and legs. The danger is just always there. She knows it, I know it. But you can also slip in the shower and break your neck. Unreal things happen sometimes. So at the track too, unfortunately.”

Back to racing then. One record after another is shattering. In England, Helmut Marko said he’s no longer keeping track of all your records, but also that you say you don’t care about them but that in the meantime you do know most of them by heart. What’s up with that?

“Of course I know where most drivers are and which records there are, but truly, I’m not that preoccupied with it. Records also have to do with having the luck of having a good car for a longer period of time. If I’ve got a good car for seven or eight years, I know many more records will be broken. But in the end, I don’t care about them. I didn’t come to Formula 1 to break records, I started driving Formula 1 to win. The first is just a consequence of the second, usually.”

A record does mean a milestone every time though. That you’ve passed a legend like Ayrton Senna when it comes to Grand Prix victories, surely that does mean something to you?

“Yes, but even that record… These days there are a lot more races than in the past. And like I said, you’re dependant on the material. I deliberately put it into perspective. For me, other things are more important. Like always beating your team mate, for example. That is and will remain the most important thing. And that’s going pretty well, yeah.”

Your successes make you very popular in big parts of the world, with The Netherlands at the top of the list of course, but one country isn’t the same as the other. How well-known are you in Monaco, where you live?

“I do get approached there regularly when I’m outside, usually by tourists. But it’s a lot more relaxed than in The Netherlands. Being out on the streets for two minutes is still possible.”

Do you see yourself, later, after your F1 career, ever moving back to Belgium or The Netherlands, to Maaseik for example?

“No, I’m really enjoying myself in Southern France. Of course, there are certain things I miss. ‘Frites speciaal’ [fries special: Dutch fries with mayonnaise, combined with either ketchup or curry sauce and sprinkled with chopped white onion], the local cuisine, haha. And of course my family and friends. But on the other hand: when I’m done racing, I will have more time anyway for weekends and holidays with friends and other fun things. I’m really looking forward to that free time.”

#f1 #max verstappen #my post #max in dutch

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myseungsunglove · 11 months

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Unexpected | Ksm

Pairing: Seungmin x Reader

Warnings: fluffy angst adjacent

Word Count: 1k

𖠫Summary: MC finds herself writing a letter to her boyfriend Kim Seungmin to tell him all of the seemingly small and insightful ways and not so small ways she has felt loved by him when she never expected to feel truly loved by anyone.

Thoughts: This is another odd one. It comes from a very personal place, and it just kind of manifested without me meaning for it to. Hopefully it will reach someone who feels all of these things too.

✎WIP✎: working on a few Han pieces and Seungmin as well that are a bit more fluffy than my most recent pieces.

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

「© July 25, 2023 by mysweethannie」

I’ve never been one to love hard and trust fast. I judge hard and trust slow. It takes a lot for someone to break down my walls, or for me to hand them the key to my seemingly impenetrable heart. I don’t think there’s anyone who really knows me.

Until I met you, Kim Seungmin.

I didn’t expect to fall in love with you, but there is something about you that makes me feel safe. Makes me feel like I don’t have to keep up the walls that I’ve so expertly built around myself. I can be me and you’ll be you and everything‘s okay. Everything is more than okay.

Before you, I had told myself that I was content with the dull loneliness that had become my constant companion in life. I was sure I wasn’t capable of giving love to anyone. This was something I was told each time a relationship inevitably crumbled. And because I loved so differently from other people, it made me unlovable. I somehow convinced myself that I was actually happy with this kind of life, not being loved, and that I couldn’t really find any kind of joy in a relationship because of my inability to love someone like they wanted or deserved. I really believed it to be true.

You changed all of that, Kim Seungmin.

I hate it when people say that love finds you when you least expect it. I hate it so much because that’s exactly what happened with you. I never expected to find you. I certainly wasn’t looking. I guess it was a good thing you were literally right in front of me. Sometimes I swear my life is one big romantic comedy where the writer forgot to give me the script, so I’m not sure when to laugh at how ridiculous my life seems sometimes.

I didn’t expect for you to be the only thing I think about on the dark nights that I don’t see you when our schedules don’t align or I don’t get to fall asleep in your arms. That’s so unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in love before. When I really think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever actually experienced love before you.

I never knew love could be so all consuming, at least not for someone like me. Not for someone who appears physically cold and distant at times and doesn’t know how to connect with people on a physical level. I was certain for a long time that I must be broken because I’ve never felt the things that other people had talked about when they talked about love. I’m still not always sure I convey my love for you adequately but you tell me you love me. Those three words are words you don’t use frequently or utter lightly so I know you must feel some kind of love from me or you wouldn’t risk the vulnerability of telling me you love me. It’s ironic how learning about you and how you love actually helps me learn about myself.

Funnily enough, the love we share, it’s still somehow different from the love I see between other people around me. You love me quietly in your own way yet I’ve never felt more loved, more seen, more known. You don’t have to say those three words every day for me to understand how deeply you feel about me.

I didn’t expect to feel loved when you give me a knowing side eye from the corner of the room when I’m stuck in a conversation with Chan or Changbin.

I didn’t expect to feel loved when you sit down beside me, your thighs pressing close to mine, your hand running soothingly along my back as I work on lyrics for a new song.

I didn’t expect to feel loved, and maybe I should have, when your fingers intertwined with mine, your thumb rubbing gently against my skin the first time I had a panic attack while I’m with you in public.

I didn’t expect to feel loved when you wrote and sang a song just for me. Your voice feels like the safest place on earth, and I know I don’t tell you that enough so this is me telling you.

I didn’t expect to feel loved the first time our lips met. This one may blow people away, but I’d never felt it before so why should I have thought this time would be any different? I guess my first clue should have been that everything was different with you, but somehow I still managed to be surprised.

Finally, and maybe this one is the saddest, but I didn’t expect to feel so loved the first time we made love or even every time after that. My connection with people is always emotional first, and that doesn’t always translate to physical attraction or deep connection. In fact, it very rarely does. Even when it does, my body doesn’t keep up with what my mind wants if that even makes sense. With you, every time you touch me intimately, my body is alight in a way I have never experienced before with anyone and honestly I had no idea it was even possible. No one has ever made me feel every emotion imaginable all at once, but Seungmin when you press closely to me, your long arms wrapping around me safely, my brain fires in a way I’m not sure it even learned to until you. It’s like you were a missing piece my brain needed to finally be whole.

I didn’t expect to fall in love with you, Kim Seungmin, but I'm certain I couldn’t do life without you now.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #kim seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #stray kids fluff #kim seungmin fanfic #kim seungmin imagines #kim seungmin imagine #kim seungmin fic #kim seungmin fluff

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swamplatibule · 1 month

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GREETINGS it is 9:25 PM on a Sunday as i write this. My hands are shaking rn but that’s probably a result of the energy drink that gave me heart palpitations earlier </3 anyway it’s time for

Lantern Eclipse!

Lantern Eclipse takes place in a world that ended a while ago! Roughly 100-odd years ago, a combination of weird mold creatures, magic nature spirits, and good old-fashioned nuclear radiation completely took over, resulting in the destruction of the vast majority of manmade areas! Most major cities have been completely overgrown with mold and megaflora, save for a few “havens” scattered few and far in between.

Don’t @ me i’ve lost track of how many apocalypse paracosms i have and that probably says something about my psyche that I’m not ready to hear

ANYWAY. Our story takes place in one of those havens, called Guardian City, which is mostly known for its massive size, wild amount of neon lights, and also the really intense military organization called the Shepherd Division that runs the place like the navy! Or like. Half of it. There’s also the violet district that takes up maybe a fifth of the city, which is mostly controlled by various mob kingpins, drug lords, etc. technicallyyyyy the Shepherd Divison is supposed to control the area, but they generally let the violet district remain as is in exchange for all their bullshit not spilling over into the “respectable” areas.

Also I feel like i should mention that Guardian City is huge. Like the size of Montana. There’s a massive wall surrounding its border to keep the plants out, but you cannot see that wall from the center of the city

ANYWAY. This is all basic background info. Now it’s meat time baybee

This is one of those stories where there are several separate plots with entirely different casts of characters going on at once, so I’m just going to go over one of them for now because it’s getting late and as previously mentioned my hands are shaking so bad rn

The first person we need to meet is Fairywren Merlo! She was a skater boy <3 Fairywren is my darling dearest who can do no wrong. She’s also a mercenary for hire and has most definitely killed before. She has a sniper rifle, roller skates, autism and a dream!!

^ that would be her in Normal WorldTM i still have yet to decide on her canon outfit

The next person you should know about is Eddie Duncan, who i described in my notesapp as “like if colonel sanders murdered people. Charming in a gross way, like a marginally more evil televangelist with a gun.” Eddie is an INCREDIBLY influential figure within the violet district - he’s rich, he has the Shepherd Division in his pocket, and he’s also incredibly dangerous, so everyone wants to stay on his good side. Do people like him? Depends who you ask. Everyone, however, is scared of him. To be more precise, they’re scared of his “hunting dog,” the silent, nameless masked man who follows his every command. we’ll get back to these two later.

now, fairywren is Good At Her Job. a bit too good at it. she gets a job to kill some random ass guyTM who she’s never heard of, so she does it! very well! EXCEPT turns out that was the son of a very important member of the shepherd guard, and the guy who hired her to kill him has now vanished, leaving her a) unpaid and b) being searched for by the shepherds. uh oh!!

the best solution she can think of is to get out of the city, but she doesn’t have any means of surviving outside the city until she meets Eddie, who brings her and a few other mercenaries along on some Top Secret Project that he’s working on which requires them all to venture outside the city wall and search for some lost artifact he needs. fairywren and the others are mostly just there to kill mold monsters and be human shields for him.

they go the first few days without seeing any trouble aside from the usual freaky wasteland monsters, and then uh oh! they get ambushed by a group looking for that same artifact! and this is where the “hunting dog” i mentioned earlier becomes Very Important!

he is what’s known in Neon Eclipse as a “terror” - an ageless, human-appearing creature that feeds only on human flesh and is nearly impossible to kill! they’re like vampires but. worse <3 I can go into SO much detail about them but i will restrain myself for now because it’s story time. but. anyway. everyone in their party watches him absolutely rip through all of their attackers!

obviously Eddie’s hired guns aren’t too pleased about traveling out in the middle of nowhere with a guy who would 100% eat them if given the chance, but Eddie assures them that he’s entirely under control. see, each terror has a “heart,” usually in the form of some small weird looking stone. If someone else gets their hands on it, then they can use it to force the Terror to do whatever they want! and Eddie keeps the heart of his nameless follower on a cord around his neck!

turns out Eddie and his older brother used to be in the business of researching terrors about 40 years ago! they stumbled upon the one that now follows him everywhere while he was asleep, and Eddie’s brother got a bit too close and. well. oopsie!

but hey he might be down a brother but at least he has Some Fuckin Guy on his side

some shit happens, and one by one, everyone else in the party dies in various terrible ways until it’s only Eddie, Fairywren, and the terror left. Then Eddie finds his artifact! yay! buuuuut he doesn’t want any witnesses so Fairywren has to die </3 alas! She manages to escape - barely - but it’s hard to outrun a terror for a few minutes, let alone forever. Eddie catches up to her within a few days, and things are looking Very Bad for our dear fairywren, who is now face to face with death.

BUT. instead of attempting to fight the terror! fairywren shoots Eddie! she fully expects the terror to kill her after, but seeing as the guy commanding him is now dead, he takes his heart from Eddie’s body and leaves! and also starts laughing, which is the first noise Fairywren has ever heard him make. spooky

Fairywren is now completely lost in the cursed wilderness with no way back! BUT she eventually catches up with our terror friend (who can talk now thanks to not having Eddie forcing him to be quiet anymore) and they get to be friends <3 yippie <3 she also gives him the name Ford (she suggested harrison ford because he’s her favorite actor but our terror friend thought harrison was a dumb name) they’re still lost but at least they don’t have to worry if they’re attacked and she is mostly confident that he probably won’t murder her

n e way! that’s one major story thread written, who even knows how many left to go 😭 yay

taglist: @burningivy @shrimpnymph @diphtheria420 @parasdreams @dremieblur @acircusfullofdemons @daydreaming-memories (lmk if you want to be taken off the taglist pretty please!!)

#paraportal #my paracosm #paracosm: lantern eclipse #maddblr #my paras

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the-phantom-author · 7 months

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Hasan Piker Lawyer S/O

Long time comming, dedicated to @gaytoadwithapopsicle and that one anon from a while ago. So, thank you for your paitence and much love.

Request are open, reblogs always welcomed

Hasan’s controversially younger girlfriend, and by that i mean you're like 25-26 years old, so like 6-7 years younger than him. And meet while you 're finishing Law School.

While you were in school he’s so helpful, he;s constantly making sure that when you're studying, you're eating and drinking enough, and that you’re not keeping yourself cooped up too much.

Hasan is a master of scheduling things, if you ever feel like you need help figuring out how to balance your work/life relationship don’t be afraid to ask him. When/if you do ask him, he also adjusts his schedule to make sure that there is time for the two of you to hang out one-on-one, and spend time together without either of you worrying about work.

Once you do work in an office and are out of school, he starts having a day where he just doesn’t stream. Mostly to make sure that the two of you have time together, but also because it helps him make sure that the both of you have a good place to be able to relax in.

If you ever have a case that is bothering you that you can’t really talk about, Hasan is trying everything that he can to help de-stress you.

Also Hasan is like, super interested in the research you do for your cases. If you ever want to ramble for a while about the different subsets of laws and how they apply in different scenarios, he is so invested. He’s asking any and all questions that he can think of.

Even when you’re not actively explaining things, if he ever thinks of a law related question he immediately goes to you, he just puts so much trust in you. I can imagine him totally just messaging you in the middle of streams questions that he has while going through an article with chat. When you respond, he’s always going on and on about how much you know and how impressive you are before he actually talk about the information you gave him.

On stream is a bit different. There is a lot of comments about the age difference, but neither of you let it get anywhere. Hasan sees the most of it, but he also just takes the punches, very “Both of us are grown adults and you’re weird for implying that she’s incapable of making choices about whose appropriate for her to date.” while you are the one who will go on tangents about “You're such a fucking idiot. I'm a full grown adult, I'm not a social media personality, I'm not going into politics. Me being with Hasan brings me absolutely no social or career gain.” or “I’ve been working on my career longer than I’ve been with him and no one in a damn court room cares who im dating. I could be dating Barack Obama and that doesn’t affect my ability to fight a case or argue a point. The fact that you equate a woman’s success to a man she didn’t gain that success from is disgusting. The fact that you think Hasan would do that is disgusting. The fact that your opinion as a jury member could be swayed by who a lawyer is dating, is disgusting. And since you wanna treat me like I’m still in highschool I’ll have you know I was 10 times more mature in freshman year then you will ever be.”

Those few chats that fo get through and you see, usually just result in you ingorign them or lecturing them, however if their ever is one that actually gets to you, to the point of you leaving the room completely. It’s not good. X X

#these took a long time to make and i am very sorry about thag #my computer wasn't working for a while and i dont like writing longer things on my phone #but its working now #hasanabi #hasanabi x reader #hasan x reader #hasan piker #lawyar!gf

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adrift-in-thyme · 1 year

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Day 25: Assumed Dead (First & Everyone)

Ao3 link

Cw for blood and injury

————————-

“Alright, even for me this dungeon is creepy,” Legend says, squinting into the gloom.

Wild nods in agreement. They’ve only been inside for a few minutes or so but already he can feel the hairs on the back of his neck raising. Something is off here, something is wrong. And no, it’s not the wall masters that catapult down toward their heads, or the redeads that line the hallways, though those are definitely disconcerting.

(As is Time’s mask that makes their haunting forms pirouette like the dancers Wild remembers performing in Castle Town before the calamity. He’ll add that to his list of “Things to Ask Twilight About Later.” Though from the look on the rancher’s face, he doesn’t have any more answers than Wild does.)

But this feeling that emanates from the cracks in closed doors and hovers in the rank air, it’s altogether different from the discomfort born of the other oddities and horrors this place harbors. It’s even different from the chill that had crept up his arms while traversing the Typhlo Ruins.

Because while nearly everything in here reeks of death and doom, there’s another presence, one Wild is surprised he can even detect. It’s faint, like the flutter of a barely beating heart, struggling to survive amongst the long deceased. And it’s not a malevolent presence at all. In fact, Wild feels strangely drawn to it, almost in the same way he felt drawn to his companions. Yet, it shouldn’t be here–it knows that, he knows that. It’s terribly unnatural, almost sickening.

The further they venture into the dungeon, the more certain Wild is that something warped and twisted has changed a fate for its own gain.

“Do you feel it too?” he mutters to Twilight when at last he can’t take the discomfort any longer.

Twilight turns from where he was gazing into the distance, a strange look in his eyes.

“I do,” he says, quietly, brows creased in a frown.

Wild shivers slightly. “I’ve never felt anything else like it. Have you?”

Twilight doesn’t answer for a long moment. His gaze wanders to where Time stands, discussing their next move with Four and Warriors.

“No. But I’ve felt something similar.” He looks back at Wild, eyes sharp, expression solemn. “It feels like a restless spirit.”

A restless spirit.

Wild ponders that as they continue forward. Obviously, Twilight has experience in that arena (another addition to his growing list of things to inquire about), but Wild has too. The Champions were all restless spirits after all. For a time, he was one too, disturbed and distraught even in his slumber by things he desperately needed to remedy. And still, this isn’t quite the same.

The Champions had yearned to finish their mission, and so had he (even if he hadn’t remembered at first). For some reason, he doesn’t get the feeling that this is unfinished business.

But he doesn’t bring it up again. There are other things to pay attention to after all, like the monsters that begin to attack from every direction. Besides, the cold, creeping dread has dulled a bit, whether from distraction or something far more concerning he isn’t sure. It makes it easier to function, though, so he’ll take what he can get.

Then, they find the cell.

It’s the last room in the dungeon, the one with the largest, most foreboding door and the lock to match the final key.

“The big bosses always hide out here,” Wind whispers as Time slides the key in and eases open the door. “But usually you’ll find a specific tool to deal with ‘em somewhere else in the dungeon. Weird that we didn’t.”

“Well, this dungeon doesn’t follow any rules,” Legend grumbles. “It’s all over the place.”

Wild can’t give much input on that front, but he definitely agrees that everything here is strange. And when they step inside, it only grows more so.

At first, he can’t even see his hand outstretched in front of him. But then the last hero enters the room and the door slams shut, torches flickering to life along the walls. The shadows stretch, driven back by their dismal glow, and Wild can make out the grime coating the ground and walls, the chains glittering dangerously along the far wall. And hanging from them, arms stretched upward, body slouched against the cold stone, is a man.

He raises his head when they enter, golden hair falling out of his face just enough that Wild can make out his eyes, bright and blue in the darkness. For a split second, they meet and that feeling grows a hundred times stronger.

“What the–” Legend mutters and Wild can’t help but wonder if he can feel it too.

Time steps forward. “Who are you?”

The man regards Time calmly, before letting his gaze roam the rest of the group. When he catches sight of the Master Sword strapped to Sky’s back, his expression changes just slightly, a break in his facade.

“You’re heroes.” His voice is hoarse from disuse, lips chapped and bloody.

“Yeah, and what’re you?” Legend retorts. “The final boss?”

The man looks at him for a moment, then lets out a snort of laughter. Wild starts at the unexpected sound.

“Do I look like the final boss?” His expression shifts again, quick as a flash, falling back into the grave solemnity of before. “But you should leave before he comes. He was expecting you.”

“You were the bate.” It’s Twilight now. He’s regarding the man with a guarded look, hand clenching and unclenching at his side.

Something flashes across the man’s face, come and gone faster than Wild can identify it. He flashes a bitter grin.

“Unfortunately, yes. If he hadn’t had need of such a thing I likely wouldn’t be here now. Though he’s attempted to find other uses for me in the meantime.”

Wild frowns. Several things aren’t adding up here–the story, his appearance and clothing (why does his armor look like a combination of Time’s and Warriors’?), his imprisonment, and now this. It feels as wrong as the rest of this dungeon has.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

The man’s gaze flicks to him, startling in its intensity, but before he can answer, Sky speaks up.

“He’s one of us.”

His voice is hushed and constricted with a mixture of disbelief and horror. The heroes turn almost as one to look at him, standing off to the side, the Master Sword in hand, angled toward the man. A faint glow of red emanates from the handle, and he quickly lowers it before it can sear into his skin.

Silence reigns in the room for a long moment, broken only by the agonizing sounds of the man’s ragged breathing.

“Is it true?” Time asks, at last, skewering the man with a piercing look.

The man meets it without hesitation. “It is. That sword was given to me by the goddess herself and I wielded it in my final battle.”

“Sorry–” Legend shakes his head, “–but it sounded like you said final battle.”

“Yes, that’s correct.” The man’s lips lift in the slightest of smirks, and Wild is struck by how similar he looks to Warriors in that moment. “I’m supposed to be dead.”

The statement hits the room with the force of a bomb. Wild takes an involuntary step back as everything begins to click, pieces to a puzzle he isn’t even sure he wants the answer to coming together to portray a dismal picture. But before it can become a clear picture a new voice emanates from the shadows, sending shivers down his spine.

“Hylia’s precious little hero speaks the truth. He is indeed supposed to be dead. I had need of him, however, so with just a bit of dark magic…I brought him back.”

The darkness swirls around and groups together, and the familiar form of the Shadow emerges from it. He grins, all sharp teeth and red eyes, as the heroes rush to pull out their weapons.

“It’s wonderful, really, that you’re all here. Too bad that you’re going to have to die.”

He unsheathes his sword, leaps forward, and the room erupts into chaos.

“Champion!” Time calls as Wild ducks beneath swinging blades, trying to help box the Shadow in. “Get him out!”

It takes a moment for him to realize he means the hero who is still slumped against the wall. It takes him even longer to realize that bars haven’t come down over the entrance as they normally do.

Strange.

“Got it!” He calls back, changing direction and rushing toward the man.

His head has fallen forward toward his chest and raises it when Wild approaches.

“So, is your name Link to?” He asks, ducking as a deku nut soars over his head.

The man nods, but his attention isn’t on niceties…or the oddities of having nine other people with his name.

“Your friends,” he says, voice fainter and more gravelly than ever. Whatever spurt of strength seeing the other heroes had provided him is quickly fading. “—You need to help them.”

Wild shakes his head, glancing over his wounds. At this proximity, they look much, much worse than they did from across the room. Old and new bruises pepper every bit of visible skin, blood coats large portions of his clothing and hair. One arm is at an unnatural angle, as though his captors broke it before locking his wrist in the shackle. And when Wild leans in, he can see the exhaustion evident in his eyes. It’s a wonder he’s even still conscious.

Yet, he’s still more worried about nine people he’s never even met before.

Oh yeah, he’s definitely a hero.

“They’ll be fine,” he says, desperately hoping even as he says it that he’s right about that. “Right now, I need to get you out of here.”

It takes some finagling–and a whole lot of yelling–but with the help of Warriors’ fire rod (or…really Legend’s fire rod) he manages to break the chains. The man sags against him, with a groan, and Wild has to shift to account for his weight. Then, they begin their limping progress toward the door.

And as they move forward with his rapidly deteriorating charge on his shoulder and the clash of weapons deafening in his ears, Wild has to admit that it’ll take a miracle to get them all out of here alive.

#febuwhump2023 #febuwhumpday25 #linkeduniverse #lu first #lu wild #trin writes #may continue this one later on #cause I couldn’t write as much as I wanted to before my brain went kaput #and also cause it would be interesting to explore first’s interactions with the chain more #idk though #we’ll see

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dvrcos · 2 months

Note

ok so I'm giving a bunch of qs for the character ask game except I'll give 2 characters

Kevin day and Aaron minyard (bet u didn't see that one coming did u)

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

10. Could you be best friends with this character?

11. Would you date this character?

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

13. What's an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot?

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

17. What's a ship for this character you don't hate but it's not your favorite that you're fine with?

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

23. Favorite picture of this character?

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Hmm might send more abt other characters if I feel like it

Thank you anon I love a chance to rant about these two idiots endlessly <3

1. Like/dislike about the character

Aaron: he’s genuinely such a complex character and I think that’s what drew me to him initially like this boy has so much going on but desperately pretends like he doesn’t

Kevin: he is canonically a fucking bitch and I can’t help but love that

2. Favorite canon thing

Aaron: I think right now all of his commentary in the first book is my favorite canon thing about him like he’s such a snarky asshole. Like genuinely the scene where Neil pours the water on the ground and then throws the glass at Aaron and Aaron just goes “mature” lives rent free in my head forever and always

Kevin: “I’ve never been skiing before” and then immediately having a panic attack

3. Least favorite thing

Aaron: internalized homophobia womp womp

Kevin: dating a Raven womp womp (i don’t hate Thea literally at all I just don’t like that he stays with another Raven but that is my opinion)

4. Them in a different pieces of media

Aaron: this is most definitely recency bias but The Maze Runner bc he would fit in with those assholes too well (him and gally would be besties)

Kevin: Harry Potter/the marauders feels like the right answer but it also feels lame as fuck (I can also see him in the maze runner as well)

6. Something you have in common with this character

Aaron: Scorpio <3

Kevin: I am also a little bitch sometimes

7. Favorite fanon thing

(Me trying to remember what’s canon and what’s fanon)

Aaron: him with a lip ring and also being a little skater boy

Kevin: the similarities between him and Wymack for sure

8. Least favorite fanon thing

Aaron: I will never stand for aaron micheal minyard hate

Kevin: and I will never stand for kevin day hate either

(I just don’t get how you could hate these assholes like yes they suck that’s the whole point)

9. Could you be roommates with them?

Aaron: maybe I don’t think we’d talk to each other and idk if I could handle that

Kevin: tbh yeah probably

10. Would you be best friends with them?

Aaron: I think we’d be acquaintances at best

Kevin: absolutely not

11. Would you date them?

Aaron: yeah I think whatever he did to swoon Katelyn would work on me as well

Kevin: I would have a raging crush on him but I could not stand his personality irl (I say that with all of the peace and love)

12. My headcanons for them

Aaron: he has terrible circulation and is always cold and has chronic migraines (this is me projecting) and he is a chronic clothing stealer when it comes to his partners clothes (cough cough kevin)

Kevin: he always tries to sign with team in or near cities where the other foxes are located because he doesn’t know how to function without being near his people (cough cough aaron)

13. An emoji that represents them/one they would use frequently

Aaron: 🤓/😐 or 🥱 (he is bored with you !!!)

Kevin: 🫠/🙂 (he doesn’t know it’s passive aggressive at first but uses it excessively after finding out)

14. A fashion aesthetic for them

Aaron: he will always have an early 2000s skater boy aesthetic to me

Kevin: elevated basic featuring a lot of PSU and USC merch

15. Favorite ship for this character

(I don’t even know if I have to say it)

Aaron & Kevin: kevaaron forever and always

16. Least favorite ship with these characters

Aaron: idk honestly I feel like I don’t see many Aaron ships outside kateaaron and kevaaron (I’m pretty sure andrew/aaron exists out there somewhere and I’m choosing to ignore it for my own peace bc hate is not a strong enough work)

Kevin: Kevin/Riko

17. Ship with them I don’t hate but don’t mind

Aaron: Aaron/Jean like I see the vision I just cannot get behind it

Kevin: Kevin/Robin like I don’t mind it at all I just also do not get it but I also don’t know anything about Robin

19. Their canon relationships I don’t like

Aaron: I do like kateaaron and that’s the only canon Aaron relationship (unless I’m dumb and have forgotten but oh well)

Kevin: Kevin/Thea I am so sorry I cannot rally behind you

20. Ideal best friend for this character

Aaron: MATT MOTHERFUCKIN BOYD BABY

Kevin: Andrew and Neil are perfect

I also think they would be very good friends if they gave each other a chance and got to know each far away from Exy bc I think they’d get along and have a lot in common but they have such varying opinions on the thing most of their lives revolve around

22. What I like/don’t like in fics about these characters

Aaron: I don’t like when he blindly hates the other foxes (especially Neil and Andrew) in post-canon fics like his relationships with them are complicated but not blind hate and I love when he’s competitive and also I love when writers delve into his past addiction and trauma and let him heal

Kevin: I love love love to see him get to be nerdy or talk about his other interests outside of Exy and I don’t like when he is like a crazy health nut womp womp

23. Favorite picture (fanart) of this character

Aaron: this art altered my brain chemistry to the fullest extent of that phrase

Kevin: this one and this one tbh even though I don’t really ship kevneil

24. What characters from my other fandoms do they remind me of

Aaron: regulus black

Kevin: maybe remus lupin idk kevin day you are an anomaly my little disaster boy

25. My first impression vs now

Aaron: I was really fucking confused by the Twinyard switch the first time and now he is my fucking baby live laugh Aaron Minyard

Kevin: I thought he was the love interest for most of the first book until I looked up andriel LMAO and now he is babygirl and I love him so much (even more so after reading TSC)

Thank you again for letting me rant about these stupid little idiots I adore <3

Character ask game here

#tried to keep my kevaaron demons at bay but alas #there is only so much I can do #I am only so strong #aftg #all for the game #aaron minyard #kevin day #character ask game

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dustedmagazine · 5 months

Text

Ian Mathers’ 2023: J'suis fatiguée tu sais pas c'que j'suis fatiguée

a picture of Mandy, Indiana by Chris Hogge

It has been, if you’ll pardon the language, a stupid fucking year (or maybe it’s just, as Yo La Tengo correctly diagnosed, this stupid world). On any number of levels: for me, personally; in terms of international politics (although “stupid” is treating multiple ongoing genocides with a bit too much flippancy); the endless buffoonery of local politics; the people we’ve lost, even as the now pretty totally unchecked global progress of COVID thrashes peoples’ immune systems if not taking them out itself; and all of this means I barely have any energy these days to worry about our imminent environmental collapse (remember?). It’s been a grind, but as always music is one of the things that make life worthwhile, despite it all.

Even musically, I felt a bit adrift at times in 2023; one of my longstanding methods of music discovery, the esteemed group review site The Singles Jukebox, called it quits in 2022. And except for one last round of our traditional year-end Amnesty picks (where each writer gets to pick one song for coverage with none of the normal criteria for selection), that very much appeared to be that. And then a stray Discord comment late this year led to getting the band back together, and starting in late November the Jukebox has made a pretty amazing (temporary!) return. As always, that led to me encountering a ton of stuff I simply never would have heard of otherwise (and some new discoveries even slipped onto the lists below, just one more reason the practice most places have of running year end stuff early December makes me wince). It didn’t shift my existing favourites from 2023 much, nor did I expect it to, but it did make me feel like I had more context on the year as a whole, across more places and scenes and genres than I did before (but still incomplete, always incomplete).

This in turn feels tied to a change in my year-end list methodology. At this point I feel like I’m never going to settle on a consistent format forever and ever amen; different years pull different things out of me (both in terms of listening and in terms of sharing), and there’s also a bit of a pendulum-swing effect. For the past two years I’ve gone expansive, 40+ records, various other lists to get more things in. This was me chafing at (entirely self-imposed!) restrictions from years past, and it gave me a sense of freedom, even relief. I still stand by those lists (as much as I stand by any part of my past self). But this year looking at my account of what I’d listened to, realizing my shortlist was around 50 LPs and that if I was applying the kind of criteria I’d used recently I could easily include them all… I could feel myself wanting to go in the other direction. It took me a lot longer than I expected to pare that shortlist down to 20 albums (still an arbitrary number!), and I found the process oddly satisfying. Trying to decide what made those last couple of spots had me thinking harder about what I currently value and what my year has been like (and what my differing experiences with all these pieces of music were like) than I’d had to in a while.

Those longer lists have virtues this one doesn’t, of course; I have an even keener than normal feeling of leaving things out, of failing to adequately represent myself or music or… something. So while it’s true every year that there are records I loved that I don’t represent in any list, I feel the need to re-emphasize that truth here, specifically. Sometimes what made the cut over the days I spent putting this together surprised me; there are albums I wrote positive things about that I fully expected to be here that are hovering just out of sight in the 21-25 range. Some of them are represented in the accompanying list of songs that either don’t have albums or just stood out from their surroundings (and as last year I’ve tried to track down music videos, a form I still love, for all of those). From past experience, some of those standouts will wind up representing albums that, if I’d gotten more time with them this year, could have made it onto the main list. I also couldn’t let go of one of my secondary lists; I just really love EPs, and I wish more people made them (even if one of the entrants this year is long enough I’d normally consider it an album, if not for the band themselves dubbing it an EP).

As always these lists are alphabetical instead of ranked (and where I wrote about them, I’ve linked to it here); as I said, just narrowing them down was hard enough. I have no idea how to assess the relative merits of (say) L’Rain’s playfully, kaleidoscopically deep I Killed Your Dog versus a.s.o.’s self-titled, lush trip hop throwback versus the Drin’s gnomic, garage-bound bad vibes. They’re all great. But I did have two that felt like albums of my year, in different ways. The first of the National’s two 2023 records, First Two Pages of Frankenstein, was already a favourite when some of the personal stuff I alluded to above made me profoundly grateful that they’d put out this record, about mental health and the ends of things and mixed feelings, in this particular year (and then they put out a second record, which is not here because nobody gets to double dip, but it’s also good). I had a less specifically autobiographical resonance with Mandy, Indiana’s incredible debut i’ve seen a way but it did blow me away on purely sonic grounds in a way few bands have in the last decade or so. The greatness of that record to me is in more than just how stunningly different it felt the first few times I played it (although that was an experience I loved); as I said when I made their “Pinking Shears” my Amnesty pick for the Jukebox this year, it felt like a second miracle when the album did cohere into a set of songs that they wound up being some of my favourite songs of the year. Despite all the other ways I’ve been tired in 2023, it’s never been with music, and artists like the following (and the prospect of whatever I’ll encounter next year) are the reason why.

20 LPS

a.s.o. — a.s.o. (Low Lying Records)

ALL HANDS_MAKE LIGHT — “Darling the Dawn” (Constellation)

Avalon Emerson — & the Charm (Another Dove)

Brìghde Chaimbeul — Carry Them With Us (tak:til)

Carly Rae Jepsen — The Loveliest Time (Interscope)

Chappell Roan — The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess (Island)

The Drin — Today My Friend You Drunk the Venom (Feel It)

Eluvium — (Whirring Marvels In) Consensus Reality (Temporary Residence Limited)

Ghost Marrow — earth + death (The Garotte)

The Hives — The Death of Randy Fitzsimmons (Disques Hives)

L’Rain — I Killed Your Dog (Mexican Summer)

Ladytron — Time’s Arrow (Cooking Vinyl)

Mandy, Indiana — i’ve seen a way (Fire Talk)

Mute Duo — Migrant Flocks (American Dreams)

The National — First Two Pages of Frankenstein (4AD)

Pearly Drops — A Little Disaster (Cascine)

Spanish Love Songs — No Joy (Pure Noise)

Tacoma Park — Tacoma Park (Self Released)

Tørrfall — Tørrfall (De Pene Inngang)

Yo La Tengo — This Stupid World (Matador)

5 EPS

Babygirl — Be Still My Heart (Sandlot)

Death of Heather — Forever (Big Romantic)

hkmori — forever (Self Released)

Tara Clerkin Trio — On the Turning Ground (World of Echo)

Weaklung — We Bring About Our Own Demise (Self Released)

20 MORE SONGS

100 gecs — “Hollywood Baby”

Blur — “Barbaric”

boygenius — “Not Strong Enough”

Caroline Polachek — “Dang”

Dua Lipa — “Houdini”

Eslabon Armado y Peso Pluma — "Ella Baila Sola"

Jiraya Uai & MC Tarapi — “Hoje Tem Rodeio, Baile De Favela”

Kesha — “Eat the Acid”

Lexie Liu — “delulu”

Maria BC — “Mercury”

Mitski — “My Love Mine All Mine”

Olivia Rodrigo — “bad idea right?”

Picastro — “Earthseed”

Raye ft. 070 Shake — “Escapism.”

Sho Madjozi — “Chale”

Tinashe — “Needs”

Tyla — “Water”

Troye Sivan — “Rush”

Victoria Monét — “On My Mama”

Water From Your Eyes — “Barley”

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nightcolorz · 7 months

Note

i’m late but for the ask game: armand 6, 8, 25

YIPPIE!! Thank u sm for sending this, I’ve been pretty severely injured lately and I woke up feeling so shit and sad, so getting this notif absolutely made my day. Armand !!! He is my favorite character in anything ever. I have literally never been so insane about a guy before. U picked some great questions so I’m super excited about this.

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

I identify strongly with Armand for a lot of weird little reasons. I think the root of it is transgender and autism stuff if I’m honest 😭 Im going to try not to get tooo personal 👍👍 but I will let’s be honest, I will get personal. I can relate to being fetishized and characterized for my sort of androgynous/pretty/boyish appearance while I feel like how I look doesn’t truly reflect who I am as a person. I definitely get the struggle of being demeaned and treated like a child bcus of the juvenile ish appearance transitioning can give you. I also can relate to being demeaned and treated like a child because of my social awkwardness (due to autism) that causes many ppl to assume I’m unintelligent or immature, need to be treated gently or talked to slowly, etc. I see these parts of myself reflected in Armand ofc in different more vampiric ways, and having a character who is infantilized and talked down to while also fetishized and sexually exploited for a perceived innocence that isn’t reflective of who he really is at all, a guy who is also very strange and awkward and doesn’t act right, who is also simultaneously very bad ass (imo lmao) in his shamelessness and his overtly violent and freak of nature attitude, is weirdly very validating and empowering for me, lmao. He is like the weak shameful parts of myself if the weak shameful parts of myself had teeth. 👍👍👍 Yeah 😁😁😁😁 Armand 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

lmfaooo, I’m so happy u picked this one bcus I love complaining and being a hater 😍 I am sorry in advance if I say anything that ruffles any bodies feathers, just bcus I don’t like these things ppl do doesn’t mean I don’t like the ppl who do them, y’all do u I’m not stopping u. Anyways.

I don’t enjoy how a handful of amc exclusive fans characterize Armand, because you can tell they rlly only understand him based on Wikipedia reads and his brief appearance in the show so far, which results in this sort of glaring simplification of his character in fan content. This wouldn’t rlly bother me if not for how prevalent it is 😭 like it’s genuinely difficult for me to find interesting and in character fanfic about Armand bcus so much of it is uniformed. The amc fandom sort of dominates the tvc fandom, it’s just so big. I don’t like when Armand is reduced to Louis’s new scary hot boyfriend/Lestat replacement/potential villain. It feels like he’s often perceived through this lens of a role in the story, like “hm this guy seems like a potential villain”, “no I think he’s a new love interest”, which is a conversation I find no appeal in at all considering you can’t fit the Armand I love into any of these narrative boxes. This isn’t rlly smth I have personal beef with bcus there’s no harm in fans of the show characterizing armand based on there limited knowledge while they wait for the next season, but for me it’s a pet peeve you know, as someone who rlly rlly likes armand a lot 😭.

(This is the exception to my no hate to u if u do this disclaimer btw, all the hate to u). on the subject of amc fans, I also often see this hostility towards fans of book Armand, where I’ll see amc fans talking about how perverse he is conceptually in the books and how gross ppl who like him are, which REALLY makes me very mad, because ok. Listen. Show armand is not a character yet, any and all things you enjoy about armand as of now as someone who hasn’t read the books are 1. How he looks. And 2. Things from the books that you apply to him in a new context. Assad’s performance, the people working on the show, the writers, everything that you base your enjoyment of armand in, is from the books 😭 But god forbid someone enjoy the source material over the hypothetical character who barely exists yet? God forbid someone do the same thing u do (take smth arguably morally dubious and interpret it in a way that u find interesting and compelling while acknowledging the morally dubious source material) just not in the context of an adaption. Ok. God forbid I enjoy and identify with an adult character trapped in the body of a child who is misperceived for his youth and sexually abused, it’s not like this is the same concept of beloved amc Claudia anyway. It’s also not like I am capable of enjoying something while criticizing it and disliking it’s flaws, and coming to conclusions based on critical thinking and analysis of concepts that may have been executed poorly, that I still admire and enjoy, bcus I am capable of complex thinking, and I don’t need to blindly enjoy every part of smth and perceive it as flawless to enjoy it. We all know that’s fake ! Anyways sorry for the angry rant 😭😭😭 moving on.

On a separate note, I also sometimes have beef with how fellow book armand fans portray him. This is small and sort of petty but it bothers me when Armand is drawn as like, very small and skinny. Maybe it’s bcus I head canon him as chubby and sort of cherub-built, maybe it’s bcus in TVA armand describes himself as strong in build and “not waif-ish”, but either or it does feel sort of wrong and off putting when I see Armand drawn as like, so small and petite that it’s emphasized. To me this reads as a missing of the point, if you will. An emphasis on physical qualities representative of innocence and youth that aren’t reflective of Armand’s character, only rlly how some other characters see him. I can often tell when an Armand fan enjoys him for the superficial qualities (eternally young, angelic looking, etc) over who he is, and it always encourages me to steer clear. I hope I’m making sense lol. This is also sometime present in fic but it’s more subtle and difficult to describe. Anyways

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

I was thinking about this yesterday! I was first introduced to Armand when I was maybe 11 or 12, my dad put on 94 interview with the vampire for me and my twin sister while he did work around the house etc. he started watching it with us (he loves 94 iwtv) but by the time Armand showed up at the half way point he got up and started doing other things, so my sister and I were alone in front of the screen. For some reason lost to time my sister and I were very excited about seeing Antonio Banderas, maybe because we knew him from Zorro, so in the aftermath of the buffoon scene with Santiago that we found really funny, when Antonio Banderas appeared on screen we were hyped tf up. We were so enthralled in the moment of his cunty ass entrance we started cheering and clapping and screaming 😭 I think shrieking ARMANNNDDD!!!! At the screen (with no knowledge of who armand even was) Till I started laughing to tears is in my top ten formative moments. My first viewing of iwtv was just like that 😭 there was smth in the water that had my sister and I loosing our fucking minds with excitement over that movie. Anyways, I only immersed myself into the fandom and got rlly into tvc just last year, when I read interview with the vampire (smth that’s always been in the back of my mind since my first viewing, I really did love that movie) and then the rest of tvc. When I was reading interview with the vampire I had that subconscious excitement over Armand’s half way point appearance brewing from the get go (every time my sister and I have watched iwtv together since we were 12 we’ve done the same screaming at the screen ritual for armand) so when I was re introduced to him I was instantly attached to him. I very quickly discovered how much I was enthralled by this guy, like by his first appearance and description it went from a weird little nostalgic affection to a “omfg I feel many inexplicably strong feelings for this guy”. He was just so magnetic and weird, I was intrigued by every thing about him, like Louis lol. I started drawing him a bunch b4 I’d even finished the first book, and by the time I was introduced to him in tvl he was my favorite character. Tvl really solidified my armand obsession, and queen of the damned made me the person I am today 😭 insane. I think my impression of him now should be obvious at this point 😔 he is my silliest guy every morning I wake up and he is the first thought in my mind I cry about him daily I worship him like he’s my god sometimes I see a blender and I am so overwhelmed with emotion I want to scream if a professional looked into my brain and saw all the armand in there they’d diagnose me with super mega autism. I like him a lot. 🫶

Thank you sm for sending this ask once again! I’m sorry it’s so long lol, hope my responses were interesting. This is the ask game in question for anyone who may potentially want to send me more asks: https://www.tumblr.com/nightcolorz/734243514562510848?source=share I would cry with joy if so.

#tvc #the vampire chronicles #vampire chronicles #vc #armand #The vampire armand #interview with the vampire #Iwtv #anne rice #Armand iwtv #armand tvc #armand vc #ask game

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mojoflower · 2 years

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Time to Go Comment to Codify Traveler's Rights

[I just cut & pasted this from a recent mailing from Scott's Cheap Flights... which is a fabulous resource, if you don't know about them already. But here's a good way to reach out and begin stopping airlines from abusing passengers they way they've been doing more and more lately. Also, it's interesting to see that this is happening. Yay, Buttigieg!]

***

With rampant delays and cancellations, it’s been a tough summer for many travelers. But a new proposal from the Department of Transportation could finally make some headway in bolstering travelers’ rights.

Passengers’ rights today

Under federal law, if an airline cancels or significantly changes your flight, you are entitled to a full cash refund. Period. It does not matter if:

Your ticket is marked as non-refundable (e.g. basic economy)

It’s on a foreign airline flying into/out of a US airport

It’s not the airline’s fault (e.g. a global pandemic or bad weather)

You bought your ticket through a third party (though they may charge you a processing fee)

Your flight is on Spirit

Even if the airline’s cancellation email only mentions a flight voucher (as many do!), the Department of Transportation rule is crystal clear: If there’s a cancellation or significant change and you no longer wish to travel, you’re entitled to your money back.

The problem: how significant is “significant”? This lack of definition not only makes it confusing what your rights are, but it also allows airlines to change their policies on a whim. (Take United Airlines which, in March 2020, quietly changed their policy to claim that any delay less than 25 hours was not significant, and thus not refund-eligible.)

Separately, if you booked a flight in 2021 but didn’t feel safe traveling amidst a new variant, you were usually only eligible for a voucher if the flight still operated. And on some airlines, those vouchers had expiration dates as little as 2 or 3 months down the line.

Both those facts could soon change.

Proposed rule

Earlier this month, Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg proposed new regulations that, if enacted, would be the largest boost to traveler protections in years. First, the DOT would finally define “significant.” Under the proposal, a “significant” delay is 3+ hours on a domestic flight or 6+ hours on an international flight. Second, the DOT would require airlines to provide non-expiring vouchers for pandemic-related disruptions. This would include things like closed borders, stay-at-home orders, or even just if you didn’t feel safe to travel because of a serious communicable disease. And if an airline takes a bailout—as US airlines did to the tune of tens of billions of dollars—those passengers would be entitled to refunds rather than non-expiring vouchers.

Make your voice heard

The proposed rule is currently in its required 90-day public comment period, after which the DOT will weigh feedback and finalize what final regulation (if any) to put forth. I guarantee airlines and their lobbyists will be registering their feedback in the hopes of watering down or even defeating this proposal. I’ve left a comment, and I’d encourage you to as well. (You can do so here in under 60 seconds.) ***Here's a link to Scott's comment, so you can use it as a model*** Don’t let the “proposed” nature of the rule fool you; it’s quite likely to become law. It doesn’t need to pass Congress, it just needs to complete the agency rulemaking process. While it will likely take over a year to be finalized, Buttigieg has been an outspoken advocate of travelers’ rights, and I would be surprised if the proposal ultimately fails.

This is not the EU passenger protection law

When I posted about this proposed rule on Twitter, many folks likened it to EC 261, the EU law that mandates up to 600 euros of compensation for delays or cancellations. There’s a big difference. The EU regulation gives you compensation and lets you keep your flight. This proposed rule only gives you a cash refund if you choose not to keep your flight. I’d love to see EC 261-style traveler protections in the US someday, but this isn’t it.

More to come?

Also this month, Buttigieg sent notice to the airlines of possible further action if they don’t voluntarily improve operations. He singled out two things that airlines should currently be expected to provide:

That airlines provide passengers with airport meal vouchers during 3+ hour delays.

That airlines provide passengers with hotel vouchers when flight disruptions strand travelers overnight.

While some airlines currently do this, it’s spotty at best and varies widely airline to airline and day to day.

Though these two are not yet formally proposed regulations, if airlines don’t improve service, that could change.

#airline travel #scott's cheap flights #activism #passenger protection #Department of Transportation #politics #go forth and comment

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snowdice · 1 year

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Big Bang Editing Story [Day 116]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53

My computer is broken so I don't have any of my autotags. I cry.

Not sure how much I will do today as I'm likely to get constantly interrupted.

Chapter 54 (Patton)

“I still can’t believe he’s allowing this,” King Thomas said from next to Patton. The two of them were standing at the edge of the arena outside the horse stable, watching from a safe distance.

“If he hadn’t tried to bite me earlier, I’d think he was a different horse,” Patton agreed.

“He doesn’t even let Logan ride him,” the king said. “At least not ride him and give him directions.”

Patton was very aware of that. Logan did on occasion choose to get up onto Mr. Apples’ saddle. However, Mr. Apples was always the once who got to decide where they went after that. Logan had no say.

With that in mind, Patton, Logan, and every stable hand who’d heard about the prospective riding lessons had tried to convince Virgil to learn to ride on a different horse. Virgil was just as stubborn as Mr. Apples however and had insisted. Logan, being the only one who could be around Mr. Apples without risking being kicked, had become his de facto tutor.

Not even Logan could have expected that within a week, Virgil would be able to control Mr. Apples. Though perhaps ‘control’ was the wrong word. Nothing could control Mr. Apples, but for some reason, Mr. Apples seemed willing to do as Virgil asked.

Even right now Mr. Apples was trotting around the training arena like he was a well-trained trick horse warming up with his rider.

“Logan told him we could go on an actual ride today if the lesson went well,” Patton told the king. The lesson seemed to be just getting over because Logan said something to Virgil and Virgil started to climb off. Mr. Apples was patient and still as he dismounted.

“Do you think he’d mind if I went with you?” King Thomas asked.

Patton shrugged. “Mr. Apples might.”

“Mr. Apples definitely will,” the king replied. “I’ll come anyway.”

Logan had walked over to where Patton and the king were standing while Virgil fed Mr. Apples some apple pieces as a reward.

“I hear you’re going to go riding today,” King Thomas said.

Logan nodded. “Mr. Apples seems to listen to him well enough,” he said.

“I might join you if that’s alright. Where are you kids going?” the king asked.

“I was thinking the main forest path,” Logan replied. “It’s not a particularly difficult route, but it’s also a part of the castle grounds Virgil hasn’t been able to see yet. Loraine told me it has been recently cleared after the winter.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” the king said. “Are you going now?”

“Once Patton and I saddle up our horses,” Logan said. “You can come.”

“Great,” the king said with a smile. “I’ll ask for Bella’s saddle to be brought out. I haven’t gone on a ride yet this week.”

He turned then to walk towards the stables leaving Patton and Logan alone.

“Do you think he’s been acting weird?” Logan asked, turning towards Patton.

Patton frowned. “No,” he said. “Not really.”

“I’m just wondering why he wants to go horseback riding with us.”

“He likes spending time with you?” Patton guessed.

“Yes,” Logan said, “but typically in a setting that doesn’t involve Mr. Apples.”

Well, that was fair.

“I mean, it’s not too weird,” Patton said, thinking back through the last couple of days. King Thomas had been a bit… clingy.

“He’s been hanging around a lot,” Logan said, echoing Patton’s thoughts with narrowed eyes. He glanced back at Virgil. “You don’t think Virgil let something slip, do you?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Patton said. “I think your dad would say something if Virgil let slip he was an assassin somehow.”

“Unless he let slip something that didn’t quite implicate himself but invited suspicion.”

“Your dad doesn’t seem suspicious,” Patton said. At least, Patton didn’t think he did. He hadn’t been acting mean in any way. In fact, he might have even been acting nicer.

Logan frowned. “We should keep an eye on him, especially around Virgil.”

Patton bit his lip.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Are we ever going to tell your dad about Virgil?” he asked.

Logan hesitated. “I don’t…” he trailed. “I’m not sure.”

“It just feels weird lying for so long,” Patton said. Patton didn’t lie a lot. Sure, maybe he’d pretend to not know what Mama was talking about when sweets went missing from the kitchens or he’d pretend to not know what Logan’s birthday gift was, but he’d never lied about anything serious before now.

“I know, but,” Logan glanced back at Virgil once again, “even if we did decide to tell, we’d have to convince Virgil everything would be alright beforehand. I don’t think we’re at that point yet. He was terrified of Father until a few months ago, and he’s still cautious around him sometimes.”

Logan was right, of course. Virgil was getting more and more comfortable around the king, but he figured any of the progress made would go down the drain as soon as they brought up telling King Thomas about where exactly Virgil had come from. Patton didn’t know if Virgil would ever be comfortable enough.

“We should go get our own horses,” Logan suggested, and Patton nodded.

Patton and Logan’s horses had already been saddled by the stable hands in anticipation of their ride and it didn’t take long for the king to saddle his own horse, Bella.

The forest path at this time of year was very pretty, Patton thought. The tree branches now had small green leaves on them after having been barren for the entire winter and flowers were starting to grow. In a few weeks’ time it would be even prettier, but it would also be harder for the groundskeeper to maintain as well as it was right now.

Virgil really did seem less anxious around King Thomas now. The path was only wide enough for two horses to go at once, and he didn’t seem to mind that he and the king ended up next to each other while Patton and Logan lagged behind. In fact, he and the king seemed to be having a nice conversation about the local wildlife.

However, if Patton looked close enough, he did sort of see what Logan meant. Virgil may not be anxious talking to the king now, but the king himself seemed just a little bit nervous at least at the beginning of the ride.

He seemed to relax a bit as they rode (even laughing when Mr. Apples tried to bite him when he got too close).

Logan had been teaching Virgil the basics about things like animals, but there was still a pretty big gap in his education when it came to anything that wasn’t about training to fight and kill. King Thomas seemed more than willing to answer any of his questions when it came to the animals and plants around them even if they were sometimes a bit silly.

He’d seen a bird that looked like a dove. (It may have even been a dove, but Patton hadn’t seen it.) This had been a source of endless confusion for him.

“But shouldn’t it live in the dovecote?” Virgil asked.

“Not all birds live in a dovecote,” the king explained again.

“But it’s a dove,” Virgil said with a frown.

“Not all doves live in a dovecote,” the king replied.

“But it’s a dovecote,” Virgil argued. “It’s for the doves.”

“Yes, but there are also wild doves,” the king said.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Virgil replied.

“What about it doesn’t make sense?” the king asked with a laugh in his tone.

“Doves go in the dovecote,” Virgil said.

Patton was starting to have trouble following this argument.

“Dovecotes are made for doves,” the king said, “but not all doves go in dovecotes.”

“Why?”

This seemed to stump the king momentarily, but he still answered after thinking for a bit. “Doves existed before people got to them,” the king explained. “People caught and trained some of them, but there was no way to catch all of them. So, some stayed in the wild and continued with their lives like they had been before humans. Plus, sometimes domesticated doves fly off and never come back. Sometimes they might die, but other times they may have just gotten lost and had to build a new life somewhere far away. Or maybe they even decided that being a trained dove working for humans wasn’t for them, so they decided to go off on their own.”

“You let them do that?” Virgil asked.

“We can’t really stop them in the end,” the king said. “People can try, but it never ends up working as long as they can fly.”

Virgil thought about this. “I still don’t understand,” he said, “but okay.”

“We should take you to the cliffs,” the king suggested.

“What are the cliffs?”

“The castle grounds were built for defense,” King Thomas explained. “The edge of the grounds to the North is a large river and overlooking it is a huge cliff. It’s a good place for picnics and for birdwatching. It’s a bit of a trip, but now would be a good time of year to go.”

He glanced over his shoulder back at Logan and Patton. “What do you boys think about going to the cliffs sometime? Maybe in about a week?”

Logan squinted at his father suspiciously. It wasn’t so much the fact that the king was asking them to go to the cliffs. They did that every so often. However, this time, it only supported Logan’s claims that the king was hanging out with them a lot recently.

“Sure,” Logan said, after a moment.

“Sounds fun!” Patton said cheerily right after, trying to cover for the lack of enthusiasm in Logan’s voice with his own. Judging by King Thomas’s expression and Logan’s tight-lipped scowl, he may have overcompensated.

“Great,” the king said. “I’ll” make sure to make arrangements when we get back to the castle.”

Chapter 55 (Logan)

Virgil was beginning to be able to read some of the common instructions in magic books, but Logan still made sure to read out the instructions to him at least twice before setting him loose. He’d started to jot down notes to himself about things, though these notes were not words, but various symbols that only made sense to the boy himself.

Logan had asked about their meaning at one point and received an answer that, while earnest, was unintelligible. The symbols were mostly just pictures of things to represent certain steps in spell casting, but they were filtered through Virgil’s rudimentary penmanship and often bizarre perception of the world.

Though, despite the fact that Logan could not often decipher his chicken scratch, it did seem to help him produce impressively quality charms even as Logan began to introduce more complicated processes to make them. He was a very good student even if he didn’t have the best foundation for learning.

“I add lavender for the next step, right?” Virgil asked, his finger on a word in Logan’s magic book.

“That is correct,” Logan confirmed.

Virgil looked back at the book and mouthed the word ‘lavender’ to himself before turning back to his potion. He grabbed a few sprigs of lavender and threw them into the cauldron.

The liquid popped and bubbled violently, but Virgil didn’t flinch as he once would have, prepared for it now.

After the lavender, Logan knew that it would have to simmer for 5 minutes. Virgil looked down at the boiling liquid, contemplating it for a long moment.

“Can I soak a knife in it?” he asked.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Can I soak a knife in the potion once it’s done?”

“In that potion?” Logan clarified. “In the emergency hand warmer potion?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I think a hot knife would be useful,” Virgil said.

“For what?”

Virgil shrugged. “Cooking food on the road,” he said, “burning wood, stabbing someone and immediately cauterizing the wound.”

“That is… not a standard use for this potion,” Logan said.

Virgil titled his head at him. “Would it work though?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Logan contemplated. “Perhaps. The potion can cause burns if one uses too much of it or if it is used without an appropriate layer between it and the skin. If one were to pick a knife with enough surface area and let it soak long enough, it could in theory get hot enough to do as desired. Hmm…” he thought about it. “There would perhaps be the problem of the potion not sticking to the knife very long as it is intended to soak into fabric. However, cardamom could solve that issue as long as it doesn’t interact with any other ingredients. Let me see that spell.”

Virgil stepped out of his way so he could study the page. “Yes,” Logan said after scanning through all of the ingredients. “I think coriander would work for something like that. Let me go find some.”

He turned to walk towards where he kept his supplies of potion ingredients. Virgil followed on his heals.

“Can we use a serrated knife?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea, Virgil,” Logan said, nodding as he searched through the cupboard that should hold the coriander. “The knife being serrated would help keep the potion stuck to the blade after many uses and would increase the surface area.”

“That was certainly my intentions,” Virgil said smoothly. There was something odd about the tone that had Logan turning to him and blinking at him. Virgil just smiled at him innocently and Logan turned back to the cabinet finally locating the coriander.

“So how are we going to use that?” Virgil asked.

“We’ll put it in right before the last step and let it sit for about 3 minutes,” Logan said. “If it doesn’t quite work, we may need to make another batch. There are options other than coriander, but that’s the first idea that comes to mind and it a lot simpler if it works.”

He continued to speak of the many other options they could try as they returned to the caldron as well as how they could test the hot knife. It was already about time for the next step and Virgil did it without interrupting Logan’s rant.

Virgil listened to his suggestions with interest all while still making sure the potion he was making was progressing well.

Logan did eventually take over to finish the potion with the revised steps he’d come up with and they ended up with a potion that looked perfect except it was a few shades darker than the one they’d originally been planning to make.

“Well, it looks good,” Logan declared. “We will need to acquire a knife to test its effectiveness, however.”

“There are a few good ones in the kitchen,” Virgil pointed out. “I especially like the one 10 inch one with the black and white handle.”

“You have been eyeing up the kitchen knives?” Logan asked.

Virgil rolled his eyes as though that was not a perfectly reasonable question to ask him. “We should steal that one,” Virgil said.

“Do you think we’ll be able to sneak past Ms. Heart to steal a knife from her kitchen?” Logan asked.

“We can’t,” Virgil said.

Logan almost didn’t believe him… and then he remembered the water pouch incident. “It’s the dinner rush,” Logan said. “We should probably wait for a bit.”

Virgil was shaking his head. “The dinner rush is the best time,” he said. “Everyone will be distracted, and all of the knives will be out and in prime stealing position.”

“And if Patton’s mother catches us messing around in her kitchen during her busiest time of day, she will have Father ground us for a week.”

“Then we just won’t get caught,” Virgil said.

“I’m not sure if it’s that simple,” Logan said with a frown.

“You can stay here if you want,” Virgil offered. “I’ll just go by myself.”

“No, I’ll come too,” Logan relented, though he did still have some reservations about the idea.

He let Virgil lead him towards the main dining hall. By now, Virgil knew the kitchens and dining hall very well.

“Stay here,” he said. They were in a hallway a few feet down from the staff entrance to the kitchen. “I’m going to do some reconnaissance.”

“What type of reconnaissance?” Logan asked, but Virgil had already disappeared before his very eyes. With a blink, Logan looked up and saw a dark figure disappear onto a balcony overhead.

Well, Logan really had no choice but to wait there for him. It wasn’t like he could follow him. He could hear the clatter of silverware on plates from the dining hall down the corridor as he impatiently waited. It only took Virgil a bit over five minutes to return. He dropped suddenly from above and landed in front of Logan in a crouch.

“Well?” Logan asked, letting a bit of irritation into his tone so Virgil knew he was displeased. Virgil did not seem to care.

“Got it,” Virgil said with a wide grin, brandishing a large kitchen knife.

Logan flinched back at the unexpected sight of a weapon.

“You said you were doing reconnaissance!” he sputtered. “Not…” he trailed off remembering that while they weren’t in eyesight of anyone right now, they could be in earshot of someone. He lowered his tone, “stealing the knife already.”

“I was doing reconnaissance,” Virgil said with a shrug, “and then I used the information gathered by that reconnaissance to steal a knife.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at him.

Virgil just smiled. “You would have gotten in my way.”

“I would not have,” Logan insisted.

“How many times has Patton’s mom caught you stealing food from the kitchens in the past?” he asked.

Logan pursed his lips. “That is Patton’s doing,” he said.

“Sure,” Virgil said with an eyeroll. “I’ll have you prove it some other day, but for now,” he twirled the knife around in a way that made Logan cringe even though he did seem to have an expert handle over it. “We have a knife.”

“Right,” Logan agreed with a nod. “We should continue the experiment.”

Virgil stored the knife away… somewhere on his person, and they snuck back to Logan’s rooms.

When Virgil handed over the knife, Logan did have to admit it was a perfect specimen for their project: long and saw-like with a heatproof handle.

Logan carefully set it in a shallow dish and proceeded to pour the potion they’d made onto it. They let it sit for a little under half an hour before carefully pulling it out of the concoction with tongs and letting it airdry. Meanwhile, Virgil suggested they set up a testing area with various old sheets and clothing. They’d even found and decorated an armor stand with an old suit that Logan particularly disliked.

“Well,” Logan said once he’d tapped the handle and had not gotten burned by the potion. “I think we can test it now.” For safety, he made Virgil put on thick heatproof gloves before handing him the knife.

“So how do I make it work?” Virgil asked.

“The original potion works through light friction,” Logan said.

“So just start stabbing things?”

Logan went to respond, but before he could, Virgil had already twisted around and sliced through one of the sheets hanging in Logan’s potion room. There was a sizzling noise as the knife cut through the sheet like it was tissue paper leaving two aflame halves flapping about.

Logan leapt forward to tear the pieces of sheet down and the two of them stomped on the flames to put out the fire.

“It’s perfect,” Virgil said with a grin once the charred remains of the sheet were extinguished.

“It does seem to work as intended,” Logan agreed.

“Let’s do it again,” Virgil said.

“Er, well, perhaps we shouldn’t…,” Logan started, but Virgil had already set his eyes on the armor stand they’d set up. That suddenly seemed like not such a good idea to Logan.

He stabbed the armor stand viciously. It went up in flames instantly. Logan’s eyes widened as the blaze only seemed to get bigger as Virgil drew back the knife.

Virgil did not seem to share Logan’s worry as he turned and stabbed another piece of hanging clothing, setting it ablaze as well.

“Virgil, no! You’re going to burn the room down!” Logan yelped.

The armor stand at that very moment decided to fall to the ground. They had, perhaps, not set the testing area up as well as they should have because it fell directly onto one of Logan’s rugs and set that on fire as well.

“Oops,” Virgil said, eyes wide.

Above the sound of crackling fire, Logan heard a tapping on the door between his bedroom and work room. It opened slightly after a moment and Logan’s father’s voice called out as he was sticking his head into the room, “Um, what do you mean Virgil… is burning the room down!”

The moment Logan’s father fully processed the presence of the flames, he was bursting into the room. He at least remembered that there was a fire extinguishing powder stocked in Logan’s work room even though that fact had slipped Logan’s mind in the chaos. (Perhaps Logan should have thought to set it out when they were testing a fire knife, but Logan would just add that to his growing list of regrets.)

The king managed to put all of the fires out within 30 seconds of poking his head through the door, but the fire left in his eyes when he turned to them afterwards was perhaps more dangerous.

Virgil slowly hid the knife behind his back. It was probably a bit late for that.

“What were the two of you doing in here?” the king asked.

“Nothing,” Logan said. Virgil shot him a look that told Logan what the boy thought about his lying abilities.

Logan’s father put his hands on his hips. “‘Nothing’ set the rug on fire?”

“We may have been doing a small experiment,” Logan said.

“What experiment?” the king asked.

“…I don’t wish to say.”

“Logan.”

“Virgil wanted a fire knife.”

“A what?”

Virgil frowned over at Logan. “Your resistance to interrogation techniques is deplorable.”

Father turned to look at Virgil and obviously spotted the fact that Virgil was holding something behind his back.

“Give it here,” Father said, though his tone was a bit gentler with Virgil than it had been with Logan.

Virgil debated it for a moment, but then offered over the knife with a pout on his face. Father gingerly took it and the fire-resistant gloves from him. “Where did the two of you even get this knife?”

“You can’t tell her,” Logan said.

“You stole a knife from the kitchens?!” the king asked.

“We borrowed it,” Logan said.

“Can it be used for cooking anymore?”

“…Well.”

“In the intended manner.”

“No.”

“Then you stole it.”

Logan just frowned and looked away.

“I’m going to go put this in a secure location,” Father said, grimacing at the fire knife in his hands. “No more experiments for you two for a month. I’ll sic Patton on you.”

With that, he picked up what was left of the fire extinguishing powder (just in case) and turned to exit the room.

“Well,” Logan said once he was gone. “That was irresponsible.”

“I could steal it back from him.”

“N-no don’t do that.”

“I definitely could though,” Virgil said.

“I did not hear you say that,” Logan said, putting his hands over his ears. “I am not responsible for any more of your actions in this matter. I am going to the library.”

He walked out of the room then and Virgil followed him to the upstairs library. He said nothing more about the fire knife, but Logan would be a fool to suppose he forgot about it.

Chapter 56 (Thomas)

“Good day for a picnic,” Helen commented as she handed over the basket Thomas had requested from her a few days before. He was taking Logan, Patton, and Virgil to the cliffs today and it was perfect weather for it. Spring was truly here, which meant that those of Thomas’s duties that had laid dormant over the harsh winter were about to start up again.

The world had been on pause for a bit considering no armies or agents from any kingdom could get through the snow the last few months, but the concerns of last fall were showing their heads once again.

Thomas had just gotten word a day ago that the queen of Lamir had routed out a second assassin hiding in her ranks over the winter. The assassin had been sent shortly after it was made clear that the queen wouldn’t bow down after the assassination of her mother. Luckily, the assassin sent for Queen Cecil had not managed to complete her mission during the winter months.

While there had been no similar attempt on Prijaznia soil, Thomas couldn’t help but feel it was only a matter of time now that the snow had melted. They were already working on increasing security in the coming weeks and, though it was doubtful an assassin had managed to hide in the castle all winter without revealing themselves, they’d be closely scrutinizing all of the newer staff members.

It would be a stressful time in the coming months, which is why, despite everything Thomas needed to do, he was still going to take his son and his son’s friends on a picnic today. Logan had already started taking on royal duties as of late, but he still hadn’t taken them all on quite yet. Considering this was last summer before Logan was of age, they should at least try to take advantage of it where they could. Patton was a year younger, but the sentiment held for him as well.

Then there was Virgil. Despite their best efforts, they still didn’t know enough about Virgil, but Thomas was fairly sure he’d never had a summer to enjoy until now.

“Thanks for prepping lunch for us,” Thomas said to Helen with a smile.

“No problem,” she said waving them off. “I put in some of Virgil’s favorites.”

“Great,” Thomas said. “Do you know where the kids are?”

“Patton said they were going to go pet the cats, so I’d guess they’re in the gardens.”

Thomas thanked her again and told her to have a good day before exiting the kitchen. There was a nearby door that led straight towards the part of the gardens Patton and Logan had always favored. He figured they’d either still be around there or they would have wandered towards the stables by now knowing that they’d be taking horses to the cliffs.

So, he decided to simply walk the normal path from the door to the stable, hoping to find them.

His prediction ended up being hilariously correct. They were indeed on the path Thomas had chosen. It was clear they (or at least Logan) were attempting to make it to the stable. However, as was typical, a portion of the party had been waylaid by whimsy.

Logan was standing further down the path, arms crossed and frowning as he watched his friends. Patton and Virgil were surrounded by cats. Patton was sitting down, holding two of them in his lap and watching Virgil’s legs being swarmed by the rest of them, maybe two dozen in total.

#proofread stories #not writing

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