#and that plan would no longer work due to changes in circumstances and living arrangements etc

[trekkiehood]

.

[lottsoluv]

I used to be a mod on Dangan-Happy

This is going to be a very long post because there’s so much that happened, and I felt the need to expose the truths hidden behind the positivity everyone loves so much. Everything seems so fine and dandy on the surface, so consider this a callout post. Thank you to my friends that helped me create this.

For context:  I was Mod Chiaki, Mod Rantaro, and Mod Shuichi after a friend of mine left the blog. I would always sign my posts with emojis.

I was in a discord server made by the creators of Dangan-Happy before the blog was created. Both creators run another danganronpa blog focused on writing imagines, and I joined their server because I loved their writing and was interested in making new friends, and that I did.

When Dangan-Happy was created back in July and a link was posted in the discord server for mod applications, I applied for Chiaki immediately. I enjoyed her a lot as a character, and I knew I’d be good at emulating how she spoke through writing, and I got to make people happy while doing so. Though, before this, I had never been apart of a blog like this, I just had this blog, one that I’ve muddled in since 2013, so it was a brand new experience for me. 

I was accepted and after a couple of other people who were accepted as mods started joining the monomonomayhem discord server, the two admins created a separate section in the discord server for the mods of Dangan-Happy to communicate, away from the eyes of the fans of their original imagines blog. Everything started out fine, seeing as we barely had any asks coming in, as expected, and I became good friends with a couple of the mods that joined us. 

Around the middle of August was when things started going down hill. I became really good friends with our first Mod Izuru, Beep, and we were discussing our grievances we had with the blog, which wasn’t much honestly, such as how mod applications worked or how some of the asks were behind or just how we didn’t think some of the mods wrote their characters well, and it was all in moderation, we were just having a chat between friends, it was nothing serious and only stayed between us. None of the other mods really had any idea what was going on either, we were all just thrown to the wind.

Then, the two admins came up with a rule that no one was allowed to post asks unless either of them specified that they were ready to be sent, which became sort of a problem, seeing as they weren’t always online. Beep and I were usually the ones, at least in the beginning stages of this blog, who tried our hardest to make sure the asks got done and got posted, outside of the two admins. It felt sort of like a punch to the face, to be quite honest, but there was no animosity held toward the two admins. We still tried our hardest to help out, but the list of mods was growing and our list of asks were growing as well, we became buried underneath the voices of the newer, inexperienced mods.

Beep was a sort of hard person to get along with, and as our list of mods on Dangan-Happy grew, they had a harder time getting along with people or trusting people, so they created a group chat to talk and hang out with the people from the server that they trusted, and this eventually grew into a server, one that was not created by either of us but created by Dangan-Happy’s Mod Akane. Collectively, we agreed that the server that was created was a sort of “safe-haven” for Beep, so we only added people to the server that they trusted. We started a “rebellion” of sorts, because what we wanted was change in the way the blog was run, though we never actually did anything, it was more of a mindset. We never had any hatred toward the admins or any of the other mods.

About a week or two passed and one of the admins, Mod Kaz, updated all the mods on their current irl situation. Beep and I then told Mod Kaz that if they needed any sort of help with the blog, they should ask for it, and that the older mods that have been on the blog longer should be allowed to help more with it, and he agreed, making a new role in our discord server titled “Mid Mod,” who’s individual roles were broke up into specifics, such as “tag checking,” “grammar checking,” “overall checking,” etc. All was fine and going well, and I’ll restate, Beep and I held 0 hatred or animosity for Mod Kaz, we were only concerned for his well-being and the well-being of the blog.

Then, on September 9th, the old Mod Byakuya/Ibuki/Nagito left the blog. That being said, it was well known that Beep was an “unwilling Nagito kinnie,” and they would say all the time that they regretted not taking Nagito when they had the chance. They even covered for Mod Nagito a couple times beforehand. They were working on a Nagito mod application, when a new person joined the server, the new Mod Nagito. This alerted many of us in our little “rebellion” server. At that moment, Beep, the old Mod Miu, Mod Akane, one of the other mods, and I were in a voice chat in that server. We were just hanging out, not really doing anything in particular, when we were just all caught off guard. It hadn’t been even an hour when the mod applications were opened for a new mod Nagito. 

This topic was a hot debate between the admins and the handful of us. We were told the mod applications were “first come, first serve,” which is still just preposterous in my opinion, and that it didn’t matter how well someone was at writing a character. If they submitted the application first, then they were that mod, and no amount of refutation could convince them otherwise. This angered Beep because they were working so hard on the application, and none of it mattered. There is no anger or hatred toward the new Mod Nagito, I personally think they’re pretty good at writing Nagito and I’m glad they were chosen, but the system that the admins had set up showed its true colors. It didn’t care about quality, only quantity and efficiency. 

Beep’s anger was understood by me and the others in the voice chat with them, but that empathy did not carry over to the other mods and admins in the discord server, who decided to start their own group chat discussing whether or not to ask Beep (and I, for some reason) to leave the blog. The reason I, and the others in the voice chat, know about this conversation is because they added Mod Akane to the said group chat. Mod Akane, who was the one who created the “rebellion” server we were voice chatting in. 

At this point, we five: Beep, the old Mod Miu, Mod Akane, one of the other mods, and I, had all agreed that there were systemic flaws in the blog we were apart of, and were all relatively upset with the recent events. It was rage-inducing, watching people we worked with talking about how “mean” our friend was, even though they’ve previously stated publicly in the server and apologized for any sort of misunderstandings. I even re-read all the screenshots that were sent to us by Mod Akane before writing this (October 17th,) and it got me really angry again. During this, I talked privately with Mod Kaz about Beep’s behavior, trying my hardest to smooth things over, and again, I never once came to hate him, even after all this.

Then, finally, Beep left the blog, extremely angry after reading the group chat messages relayed by Mod Akane. Even after all of these events had transpired, the rest of us still wanted to work on the blog because we enjoyed roleplaying as these characters and enjoyed giving people advice and making them happy. Sometimes, working with some of the mods was trying, but that’s just how it is when you have such a large group of people working together. Not everyone is going to get along, some people aren’t going to like some of the others, and it’s not something people can just force. The best thing to do in a scenario such as this, at least this is what I did, is to lay low and just do your job, which I did indeed enjoy doing, despite what some of the other mods might have thought.

In fact, that’s what all 4 four of us agreed to do, just lay low and do our jobs as advice-giving roleplayers. Mod Akane was given an important role in the server, where she would stay on all of our butts about getting our asks done in a timely manner. And, that’s all fine and dandy, but she explicitly stated that she wanted to watch the blog crash and burn (along with the rest of us) after the events that transpired the day before. None of us, aside from Beep, had any sort of actual hatred toward the admins and mods themselves, only what everything was becoming.

We were all fine with this arrangement for the most part. We even, all five of us, created a separate blog, where we could roleplay as characters that we wanted to, and it was quite fun. We were all planning on leaving Dangan-Happy after it got up and running, but it never quite took off. We were all busy with our lives, and subsequently, toward the beginning of this month, October, Mod Akane had a falling out with our friend group. We both made separate servers and invited who we wanted and that should’ve been that, fair enough right?

The very next day, Mod Kaz direct messaged me and told me I was kicked from the blog. The reasoning given was that he didn’t want to work with people that hated him. To quote him: “I'm sorry to say this Tea. I had a great time working with you but due to some unforeseen circumstances and some review of your behavior I must ask you to leave the blog. I'm not going to keep fighting to run a positivity blog with someone that holds so much contempt for me. Leave the blog, I'm not going to argue or budge on this.”

In response, I told him fine. I’ve literally never held any contempt for this man, but he really deeply thinks that I’ve hated him this entire time, no matter how much we bonded over similar interests. That’s the part that bothered me at first, being kicked off a blog I loved writing for over someone thinking I hated them. Then, the bit about “review of your behavior” caught my eye. I told him I had barely said a word in the server purposefully so that I don’t hurt other people with my perceived “negativity.”

Then, I realized the problem might actually lie with the “unforeseen circumstances” portion of their message. A day earlier, there was a falling out between Mod Akane and the rest of my friends. I connected the dots, Mod Akane must’ve told Mod Kaz about everything that happened, about my friends and I getting upset over things happening surrounding the blog. It just makes no sense otherwise. I personally believed I wasn’t a problem at all concerning the blog. I tried my hardest to get my asks done on time and in character. I was good at what I did, and I loved doing what I did. And, I was outcasted, thrown out for seemingly no valid reason.

I’m not asking you to harass people, I’m just trying to explain my side in a way that these mods will see and understand. I’m just angry and confused, and I want a real, genuine answer, because I never hated Mod Kaz ever up until this bullshit. Sure, I was upset at the way things were run, I was upset with some decisions that were made, but I never hated him. And, if Mod Akane told him otherwise, I have the screenshots to prove she did the exact same as me.

This post is far from perfect, I apologize. My friends and I are just very upset and hurt. We put so much time and effort into a blog we cared for, and it turns out it’s all bullshit behind the scenes. A fake environment ruled by a toxic positivity, if you have different opinions in the way things are run, you just get removed. It’s fucked.

[never-changing-muses]

Character Profile: Shinji Wataru

Name: Shinji Wataru Romaji: Wataru Shinji Age: 18-20 Gender: Male

Overview

Shinji Wataru is a character whose nature is that of a shut-in. He rarely leaves his house and spends most of his free time surfing the internet and reading light novels. He lives with his older sister whom he often describes as a "helicopter sibling" and he works as a shopper at a local super-market. His story involves him trying to find himself while also seeking the connection with others around him, despite his  fears due to events that happened in his past.  Along the way, he discovers the existence of magic and seeks to learn more about it, hoping his answer and peace can be obtained from such.

Background

Childhood

Shinji's childhood was what he described as an average one. He and his sister was born to his parents, Tesuo and Ari Wataru and the earlier years of his childhood were described as some of the happiest he'd ever known. He was loved by his parents and got along well with his sister who often protected him from bullies. This had started to change though when Shinji began his first year of elementary school. Here, he had been somewhat excited about the prospect of meeting new friends, but things did not go the way he thought. Instead of kind greetings, he had been met with jeering and mocking by his fellow students due to his appearance and certain quirks he displayed at the time, the bullying being a very disheartening for him. His parents, although they felt bad for him, tried to encourage him by telling him to ignore it and keep moving forward. During this time, he tried just that, but as the bullying got worse, he failed to ignore it all. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that he was just too different from everyone else, that he wasn't human at his core. But at the same time, he developed a burning hatred for his classmates who constantly hurt him and the teachers who refused to do anything about it.

Middle School Years

Although the bullying had subsided somewhat, his view of himself plummeted by the time he started middle school. His peers often steered away from him because of his moody attitude and once again, his appearance being a factor. His hatred for others was particularly strong during these years as he failed to understand why people hated him and why he felt even his own family didn't understand his plight. Some point during this time, he had made two friends and this resentment and moody attitude seemed to lessen when these two individuals had came into his life. He had fun with them during the two of the three years of his middle school days, often going to arcades and hanging out, but come the third year, this was not to last. The two friends had gotten into a dispute which left their relationship strained, with Shinji getting caught in the middle of such, having nothing to do with the initial dispute. He devised of a plan that would force the two to meet up, and with the hope that they would rekindle their friendship  and go back to how things were.

This had not gone the way that had been intended, as when the two saw each other, hostility and harsh words were thrown at each other, and when Shinji had tried to explain, that hostility was directed toward him, with accusations of him trying to start drama. The male friend, having had enough, decided to cut ties with not only the female friend he was feuding with, but also Shinji as well. The female friend later scolds him and chastises his decision to go behind their backs and arrange that meeting, calling his belief that it would have caused them to become friends again stupid. After trying to argue his point, the female ultimately declares that Shinji never once understood the hearts of others or valued their safe zones and for that, decides to cut ties with him. For the first time, Shinji snaps and goes on a tirade about how stupid their whole dispute was and claimed that she never cared about him or the other friend. She seemed to be hurt by this and leaves.

Shinji has had no contact with both of them since.

For the duration of his third year, he entered a "delinquent" phase, becoming what others saw in his appearance. He was prone to violent outbursts and even beat people up, which ultimately got suspended from school. His parents were furious with such and berated him harshly for his actions, which caused him to enter a period of reflection and regret, only to come to the same conclusion as before, that he wasn't human and his erratic emotions was proof of that.

Highschool years

With his first year of highschool dawning upon him, Shinji was nervous, and wondered how he would navigate through a particularly important period of his youth. In elementary school, he was seen as a creepy looking weirdo which made him subject to bullying, and in middle school, people were put off by his appearance and his failed friendship turned him into a monster that everyone hated. He wanted to make an entirely new impression that wasn't negative, so he had taken a few pages out of his father's book and took cues from how he interacted with others and how he had many girlfriends before he met Shinji's mother in a story he had told him very recently. So when high school came, he tried to emulate his father's mannerisms and personality traits, but this seemed to have the opposite effect. Instead of drawing people to his side, he ended up pushing others away, everyone disturbed by his behavior and appearance. He had asked out at least five girls out at some point and had been rejected by all of them. The final one had even gone as far as to say, he needed to have plastic surgery before he even had a remote chance with her. This had essentially killed his self esteem, enforcing the belief that he was not human and had come to hate his facial features to a large degree.

To make matters worse, both of his parents had been killed in a brutal accident, which hit him hard while it forced his older sister to step up and take care of not only the house, but Shinji as well. All of these factors had hit him hard and he gave up trying to connect with others, and spent his remaining high school years as a loner all the way to graduation.

University

After graduating, Shinji had very little drive for his life, but after being pushed by his sister, he decided to apply for a university that specialized in Culinary Arts, since it was something he had a passing interest in. he applied and was eventually accepted into the school. He had some measure of fun, making pastries and bringing some home, even though some of them turned out messy. However it was not to be, his difficulty focusing and learning something, which had plagued him through out his educational life, had reared its head and he struggled in the curriculum. Eventually after the first quarter of the year, he flunked out altogether. This infuriated his sister to the point where she had implied he was a burden. This had a profound effect on him, increasing the hatred he had for himself even more due to what he perceived as his inhuman nature and dead spirit. he wished that he was like everyone else, all in appearance, personality and intelligence. With this, he reclused even more.

Present Day

A year has passed and Shinji spends most of his free time on the Internet's largest video sharing website and reading novels and comics, often imagining himself in intimate situations with the characters. He has a job where he works four days a week, shopping for orders in a supermarket, although his sister wants him to do five days, much to is chagrin. His engrossment with media is to take his mind off of the darkness that lies within him, as he has not found an answer to the question imposed on him and has resigned himself to a life of isolation, understood by no one.

Personality and Characteristics

Shinji is many things, but the best word to describe him would be 'complicated.' From a glance, Shinji can be seen as rather eccentric due to his enthusiasm about certain media he consumes. The bulk of it though comes from emulating his late father, a trait that hasn't fully gone away in some instances, often using exaggerated motions at times when he is excited about something. He is socially awkward but tries to be as amiable and friendly as possible and depending on the circumstances, he will even offer to help someone with their problems as long as it lies within his own ability to do so. When getting to know him, he is rather shy but hides it well under his upbeat mask and it is only dropped when he can no longer maintain it or feels the need keep it up in certain situations. As he once went to a culinary university, he knows how to cook a few things well and is willing to cook something for someone, provided it is within his budget and ability to do so. Overall, he is a warm and welcoming individual in initial appearances, but there is more to him than what the eye can see.

Darker Aspects

Despite his positive personality traits, underneath them is a slew of darker ones which are concealed. Because of his past, Shinji is very insecure about his general appearance, mainly his facial features, which many had seen him as creepy or disturbing. An interaction with a girl had led to him resenting his appearance to the point where he wanted to rip his face off. This view of him goes back to his childhood where he was harassed and called a demon by his peers, leading him to believe that he wasn't human and thus, never saw himself as one well into adulthood. In certain situations, his general facade is dropped and he can become agitated and filled with anxiety, causing him to say things he wouldn't normally say or to act rashly and while he hasn't lashed out at someone since middle school, the anger he holds within himself is extremely powerful. He has a poor view of himself because of these emotions, believing himself to be further away from humanity because of them, thus giving himself a reason to resent himself. Because of this, he often wishes that he could become emotionless so he could 'fit in' and not hurt anyone from his anger.

Shinji appears to have a strong desire to 'fit in' and be one with the crowd because of his experiences. He has an odd and rigid set of criteria for someone to be considered human, and he believes he does not fit any of these due to how he is and is often hard on himself for not being like 'everyone else' and is especially harsh when he makes a mistake. This would hint at a perfectionist mentality that he holds himself to, yet does not hold others to it as he feels everyone else around him is what he wants to be: normal.

When it comes to relationships with others, he is very mixed in how he feels. On one hand, he wants to find someone who would understand him, a person who he could call an understander, life partner, and soulmate, and it was a desire he had since he was a teenager. But he feels that such a relationship with others is out of his reach, due to what he believes is his repulsive nature and the belief that there is nothing to understand. His only friends abandoned him due to drama and he was unable to form connections with anyone else, resulting in him giving up such ideas altogether. Although he laments it, he resigned himself to living an isolated life where his only companions are fictional characters in his head. Along with this, the reason he isolates himself is so that others won't be exposed to his rotten nature.

And lastly, he is someone who has no idea or interest in his future. He is someone who always lives in the present while avoiding the past and discarding the future, yet his sister has constantly asked what he wanted to do, even in the event of his failing university, screaming at him about it, which forces the question upon him. he does not know, and feels he will never know, yet he feels he is expected to know, to already have the answer like everyone else, but doesn't. He laments this, up to the point of calling himself defective because he hasn't found a purpose yet, or to become human enough to satisfy the world around him. At one point, he even admitted how envious he was of everyone around him --- they were able to form bonds with others so easily, find love and already know what they wanted to do and have the path set out for them. Yet he failed to obtain anything but scorn, isolation and misfortune.  These feelings have led to him considering ending his own life, believing the world would be better off without a useless creature like him.

Discovering Magic

Depending on his path, Shinji will discover the existence of magic and attempt to learn from it in order to find his peace. One system of magic he gravitates toward would be Thelema, created by one Aleister crowley, and he would thus work to try and become a magician, if not to at least make something of himself besides a nobody.

[dailynewsprime]

Why does India have so many COVID instances? | Coronavirus pandemic News

Something has gone horribly flawed in India. Today, the nation has reported 346,786 new instances of COVID-19 for the earlier 24 hours, with 2,624 deaths – the world’s highest daily toll for the reason that pandemic started final yr. Overall, almost 190,000 individuals have died from COVID within the nation, whereas greater than 16.6 million have been contaminated. The new outbreak in India is so extreme that hospitals are working out of oxygen and beds, and many individuals who have been taken unwell are being turned away. New Zealand, Hong Kong, the UK and the US have both banned direct flights to and from India, or have suggested residents towards travelling altogether; and the record could properly get longer. The UK’s prime minister, Boris Johnson, who's eager to safe a post-Brexit commerce cope with the nation, has been pressured to cancel a planned trip to India this coming week and, as an alternative, plans to fulfill with President Narendra Modi just about. For a rustic the place COVID numbers gave the impression to be dropping dramatically just some weeks in the past, what has gone so flawed in India? The Indian variant, generally known as B.1.617, seems to be wreaking havoc within the nation. Since April 15, India has been reporting greater than 200,000 instances of coronavirus on daily basis and its capital, Delhi, just lately introduced a week-long lockdown after an increase in instances there overwhelmed the healthcare system. “If we don’t impose a lockdown now, we might face a bigger calamity,” Delhi Chief Minister Arvind Kejriwal mentioned as he addressed the town on Indian tv on April 19. Worryingly, mattress areas and oxygen supplies in hospitals seem like stretched, with experiences of sick sufferers being turned away from hospitals and social media feeds crammed with distraught relations whose family members can not entry the healthcare they want. On Wednesday this week, because the COVID toll was rising, Delhi’s highest court docket took the bizarre step of publicly criticising the central authorities and its method to managing the nation’s oxygen disaster. The court docket was listening to a petition filed by Max Hospitals looking for pressing assist to tide over the oxygen scarcity it was dealing with in six of its hospitals within the capital. “Human lives are not that important for the State it means. We are shocked and dismayed that government doesn’t seem to be mindful to the extremely urgent need of medical oxygen,” the Bench said. “We direct Centre to provide safe passage…so that such supplies are not obstructed for any reason whatsoever,” it mentioned. “Hell will break loose .” Damning phrases for the federal government in a time of disaster. It shouldn't be completely clear why this surge has occurred in India, however it's prone to be due to crowded occasions organised within the run-up to elections – President Modi himself hit the marketing campaign path addressing election rallies in Kerala, Tamil Nadu and Puducherry on March 30 because the upturn of instances started. Large teams and social gatherings throughout spiritual festivals have additionally performed a component, in addition to the re-opening of public areas and easing of lockdown measures which passed off steadily all through 2020 with the ultimate “unlocking” of restrictions taking place in December 2020. There can also be a lot concern in regards to the emergence of recent variants of the coronavirus in India. It is believed the dominant pressure within the nation now's the variant which was first recognized within the UK, and which has proven to be as much as 60 p.c extra transmissible between people. On March 25, it was additional introduced {that a} new “double mutant” variant had been detected in India, now generally known as the “Indian variant”. This growth is what has different international locations spooked. The Indian authorities don't assume this new variant has but change into the dominant COVID pressure within the nation, however it's prone to be contributing to the growing numbers. Genome sequencing of the brand new variant has proven that it has two vital mutations: 1. The E484Q mutation: This is just like the E484K mutation recognized within the Brazil and South African variants, which have additionally been reported in latest months. The concern is that this mutation can change elements of the coronavirus spike protein. The spike protein types a part of the coronavirus outer layer and is what the virus makes use of to make contact with human cells. Once contact has been made, the coronavirus then makes use of the spike protein to bind to the human cells, enter them and infect them. The immune response that the vaccines stimulate creates antibodies that concentrate on the spike protein of the virus particularly. Therefore, the fear is that if a mutation adjustments the form of the spike protein considerably, then the antibodies could not be capable of recognise and neutralise the virus successfully, even in those that have been vaccinated. Scientists are inspecting whether or not this may increasingly even be the case for the E484Q mutation. 2. The L452R mutation: This has additionally been present in a variant regarded as chargeable for outbreaks in California. This variant is believed to extend the spike protein’s capacity to bind to human host cells, thereby growing its infectivity. A examine of the mutation additionally suggests it could assist the virus to evade the neutralising antibodies that each the vaccine and former an infection can produce, although that is nonetheless being examined. This new wave in India has been devastating for the nation. A coordinated response is required between Indian states and central authorities to handle the provision of oxygen and important medicine if the variety of COVID-related deaths is to be introduced beneath management. There can also be a priority that we do not know the true number of deaths from COVID, as some individuals have died at house earlier than they might get to hospital and many others in India, notably in rural areas, have had issue accessing testing services. Pressure urgently must be lifted off the healthcare system and the one approach to do this is to ramp up the vaccination programme, strengthen social distancing procedures and re-introduce lockdown measures.

In the physician’s surgical procedure: Teaching medical college students throughout a pandemic

One of my passions as a physician is with the ability to move on my information to the docs of tomorrow. I have accomplished it for years and am a senior lecturer at two UK universities. A big a part of the instructing I do includes getting my college students to talk to and study sufferers. This has been a problem within the final 12 months as bringing sufferers into the surgical procedure for them to see college students has been too dangerous, and the sufferers that tended to have the sicknesses the scholars wanted to see have been usually shielding to cut back the probabilities of them catching COVID-19. Medical college students have been lending a serving to hand to COVID-ravaged hospitals everywhere in the world, and their help has been welcomed by many. But we additionally want to arrange them for a world past COVID and, within the restricted time we have with them, to make sure they're ready for a variety of medical circumstances from the bodily to the psychological. But how can we do this in the event that they have been unable to see sufferers as regular? Technology has been the reply. Our surgical procedure, the place I work as a household physician in Bradford, northern England, is fortunate sufficient to have a scientific abilities lab that college students can study in. This is a room that has “model” physique elements that the scholars can use for examination functions. Students can come into the surgical procedure and, initially, maintain phone consultations with sufferers, chatting with actual sufferers who ring in about their illnesses. The college students file a medical historical past by chatting with the sufferers and try to give you a administration plan which they then run previous me or one other physician for approval. Because the scholars can not study the sufferers bodily, we then make a listing of the examinations the scholars would have accomplished and, as soon as their clinic record is full, transfer over to the scientific abilities lab. I then ask them to observe the examination they might have accomplished on the fashions. This may embody a chest examination, a rectal or vaginal examination. The fashions will be adjusted so that every time the scholar makes use of them they may make a distinct examination discovering, equivalent to a brand new lump or irregular respiration sounds. It actually is kind of intelligent. Although it is going to by no means actually exchange the true factor, this methodology has allowed us to maintain medical schooling going all through the pandemic – one thing that has challenged medical colleges the world over.

And now, some excellent news: Exercising can cut back the dangers of COVID

A brand new study by Glasgow Caledonian University in Scotland has proven that common train can cut back the chance of getting infections like COVID-19 by as much as 37 p.c. The researchers carried out a full-scale systematic overview of 16,698 worldwide epidemiological research revealed between January 1980 and April 2020, with world-renowned immunologists and epidemiologists from University College London (UCL) within the UK and Ghent University (UGent) in Belgium, in addition to train and sports activities scientists from Cádiz University in Spain and a public well being marketing consultant from NHS Lanarkshire (NHSL) within the UK. They discovered that doing half-hour of train which will get you out of breath and a bit sweaty 5 instances every week strengthens your immune response to infectious ailments. It is believed that common train will increase the variety of immune cells within the physique appearing on the primary line of defence – the mucosal layer of antibodies. These cells are chargeable for figuring out international brokers or “germs” within the physique with out miserable the remainder of the immune system, so it’s completely protected and protects you towards infectious illness. We have recognized for a while about the advantages train can have for an individual’s general bodily and psychological well being. Now, within the time of COVID, it has been proven to assist enhance your immune system too. So the message is obvious; get open air and train in the event you can or to the health club whether it is in line with your native COVID tips. If neither is feasible, your kitchen or front room is a wonderfully good place to do half-hour of dancing, leaping or no matter floats your boat!

Reader’s query: Is it protected to go to my hospital appointment throughout a pandemic?

Over the previous 12 months, individuals have repeatedly been informed that the most secure place for them is house and that hospitals are busy coping with COVID-19 sufferers. While that's true, it is usually vital to do not forget that different sicknesses have not gone away. I have discovered that many of my sufferers are usually not attending their appointments for different circumstances as a result of they're frightened about catching COVID or assume their sickness shouldn't be as vital as coronavirus. Hospitals and GP surgical procedures everywhere in the world have gone out of their option to make massive elements of their buildings COVID-free. This implies that they can be utilized for non-COVID-related companies and workers working there is not going to be crossing over to cowl COVID wards or clinics. So, in the event you obtain an appointment to attend a clinic or hospital service, it's actually vital that you simply do go. Read the full article

[toho-literature]

Perfect Memento in Strict Sense: Pages 151-155 - Monologue

I first began compiling the Gensokyo Chronicles around the time I turned 18 as Aichi, which was over a thousand years ago.

Literacy was not as widespread in those days, so the Gensokyo Chronicles were more something to be left for later generations than something that was to be read by my contemporaries.

It's difficult even for me to read the writing of the Chronicles from that era, so it didn't serve much use as a reference for this compilation.

Since then, I've reincarnated as Ani, Ami and so on, and am now in my ninth incarnation.

Normally, the process of reincarnation results in an almost total loss of memory, but the ability of Gumonji that my ancestor Are possessed has been preserved, that is, the power to not to forget anything that has been seen.

Of course, as Akyuu, I have this power as well, and it has been extremely useful in compiling the references for this book.

Somehow I know about things that happened during my life as Aichi and even as Are, but unfortunately my memories of Gensokyo in ancient times are not very clear.

Just like a normal person, I have to read about the past to know much about it.

Still, it's quite obvious that Gensokyo has changed drastically over the past hundred years or so.

The days where humans live in terror of youkai or desperately exterminate them have passed, and the world has become a place where youkai come to the human village to play and humans are invited into the houses of devils.

This edition of the Gensokyo Chronicles is the first of these books to be written in the new Gensokyo.

Nowadays, youkai almost never eat humans.

As a result, I spent a lot of time worrying what to write about, and the usual warnings about youkai and descriptions of how to protect yourself from them followed as a result, but I spent some time arranging them a bit (*1) to try to provide a new youkai-centric viewpoint.

I even tried picking out specific youkai and delving a bit into their personal lives, as I wanted to help create new relationships between humans and youkai.

In addition, I received a great number of requests from youkai (*2), so what started out as a guide to help humans defend themselves from youkai became, before I knew it, a manual for youkai to help others learn about them.

In fact, a number of the youkai threat levels have been inflated somewhat in this volume.

This probably isn't cause for too much concern, as humans are almost never kidnapped and eaten by youkai in today's Gensokyo.

At this rate, I may have to completely rethink the audience of the Gensokyo Chronicles and the purpose of their existence.

If I don't, the purpose of my continued reincarnation would fade away.

Once this edition of the Gensokyo Chronicles is finished, I should have as many people read it as possible and ask them if my continued reincarnation is necessary.

Still, the fact that we've entered an age where there is practically no more use for the Gensokyo Chronicles means that this is a new, ideal era for both humans and youkai.

There are few threats to the humans' lives, and they can have peaceful duels whenever they please.

Youkai extermination continues in name only, and abductions are only carried out for show.

These peaceful yet stimulating times are surely a golden age for humans and youkai alike.

There's no doubt that Gensokyo has become the way it is thanks to the isolation brought about by the Great Hakurei Barrier.

Around the time humans outside began to become more powerful and deny the existence of youkai, Gensokyo was already in danger of destruction (*3).

The solution endorsed by the youkai sages was to isolate Gensokyo using a great barrier.

This barrier is the so-called barrier of common sense.

This barrier kept the outside world's common sense outside, leaving what lacked common sense inside, in Gensokyo.

It created a world which embraced the youkai and the world of the night that the outside world denied — a world in which matter and forces flowed as they were denied by the outside world.

It was a passive yet truly ground-breaking innovation (*4).

Of course, the construction of the Great Barrier is almost an implicit statement by the youkai that they're no longer a necessary part of human society, isn't it?

It's just the same as if they'd said, "Fine, we'll do as we please in here."

One could say this desperate last resort was a smashing success.

Or, perhaps it was the best possible plan and not a simple act of desperation.

However, there was a flaw in this plan, as well.

That flaw was that the youkai's inability to attack humans began to weaken their powers.

That meant that if a new and powerful youkai ever ceased to exist in the outside and passed into Gensokyo, the denizens would be unable to resist if it decided to subjugate them.

In this light, the Great Barrier can also be seen as a harbinger of Gensokyo's end.

Of course, there was a plan to avoid this happening, as well.

That plan was to have humans and youkai continue to battle each other in mock duels (*5).

This is how today's pattern, where youkai create disturbances every so often and incident resolution specialists resolve them, was born.

Following that intention, this edition of the Gensokyo Chronicles also establishes emphasis on the fact that youkai are those who attack humans.

Youkai attack humans, and humans eliminate them. If even the appearance of this natural order were to vanish, Gensokyo's future would surely become a dark one.

From my perspective, the power of today's youkai has not weakened; on the contrary, it's too much for the small area that is Gensokyo.

It's probably evidence of the outside world forgetting about youkai one after another.

However, no youkai ever try to invade the outside world.

Why is this?

I believe it's because youkai have no reason to attack the humans of the outside world.

To that extent, the outside world has become the world of humans.

Youkai are only mentioned in the context of tales in the outside world, and even in tales they only exist to be vanquished (*6).

Thus, even though Gensokyo is as small as it is, no youkai would ever leave it to go on a rampage.

Being satisfied with the current state of affairs is the only path to happiness, but it is also probably the most difficult, and this isn't just true for youkai.

Certainly, expressing dissatisfaction is related to self-improvement and can be a good thing.

However, it can also be a sign of greed, and avaricious souls only walk the path to their own destruction.

Enlightenment is knowing that one has enough and finding satisfaction in one's circumstances.

The youkai have finally reached that point in their existence.

This is the impression I get from today's Gensokyo.

I would like Gensokyo to continue to be the unselfish and happy, if cramped, place that it is. (*7)

Still, the humans called the Children of Miare -- to make a long story short, we are not able to live for very long.

I don't know whether this is because the reincarnation is imperfect or because we simply know too much, but I probably will not live until thirty.

Furthermore, my preparations for the ritual of reincarnation must begin several years in advance of that.

As a result, I likely will not have much of a chance to experience life as a normal human being.

This is my one regret, especially as it is much easier to enjoy an easy-going, pleasant life in Gensokyo now than in the past.

The ritual of reincarnation involves petitioning the Yama for permission during my lifetime; then, for over a hundred years during which my body for the next reincarnation is prepared, I work for the Yama in Hell.

So, even though it's become much easier to travel between Gensokyo and the Netherworld now, I won't be able to see how the conditions are in Gensokyo.

The hardest thing about reincarnation has always been having all of my interpersonal relationships reset.

This time though, I think that things may change somewhat.

This is because youkai and humans have become closer, so even I have youkai acquaintances.

It's not unusual for youkai to live for several hundred years.

Even if I spend over a hundred years in hell, although all the humans I know will be gone, the youkai will probably all look the same as ever.

So, the current state of Gensokyo has helped assuage the fear and loneliness I feel due to my reincarnation.

I wonder what the world will be like in the time of the tenth Child of Miare?

Contemporary Gensokyo has been preserved as a perfect world thanks to clever youkai.

In the current state of affairs, Gensokyo could continue to exist unchanged for quite some time.

Today's Gensokyo is heavily dependent on the outside world.

This follows fairly obviously from the fact that the Great Barrier is a boundary of common sense, but it is certainly frightening to think that there are things that cannot be done with just powers existing in Gensokyo.

If the outside world were to be destroyed, I wonder what sort of action the youkai sages would take.

I suspect they would immediately dissolve the Great Barrier and begin their domination over the outside world.

Since the world of the night is the youkai's world, this could mean the world would once again regress to being a place of darkness.

For some reason, I can't imagine that happening.

Looking at the youkai of today's Gensokyo, I can only imagine the future of the youkai being a bright one.

It was the youkai who took action and quickly came up with a plan to create such a fantastic world, not the humans of the outside, and not the humans who exterminate youkai for a living.

I can't think that those same youkai would do something so foolish.

We, the humans of the village, will continue our mock battles with the youkai in order to ensure the stability of their existence.

This is not the end of the current edition of the Gensokyo Chronicles.

I will probably continue collecting material for it until I must begin the preparations for my reincarnation.

Until then, I would like to continue enjoying the black tea I (*8) love so much as I listen to Yougakudan songs.

Hieda no Akyuu, the Ninth Are Maiden

*1: Like writing horizontally, Western-style, and adding drawings.

*2: Such as, "Make me sound stronger," or "What do you think of this power?"

*3: In the time of Aya, the eighth Are Maiden, the power of the youkai of Gensokyo was weakening, and humans outside began to deny their existence, so they were already on the brink of collapse.

*4: Though, we humans of the village who already lived in Gensokyo were unfortunate enough to get drawn into this plan.

*5: These duels also involve mock kidnappings and youkai extermination expeditions.

*6: Nowadays, there are many stories where youkai are simply small fry, and the real enemies are humans.

*7: Oh, but is that a form of selfishness? I suppose I'm still a ways away from enlightenment.

*8: A taste I've acquired since becoming Akyuu.

[stillebesat]

If I may, in the S.T.O.R.K au I believe you said that Virgil's Grandfather arranged the boating accident then proceeded to lie to both Virgil and Logan's Mom. May I ask what his motivation for that was? Did he not want Virgil to have Logan? Or what? Sincerely, Confuzzeled

There are a lot of motivations for why Virgil’s Grandfather, Ephraim Hawkins, arranged for the boating accident to happen. The major component though was that he saw in Maisey Sue (Logan’s Mom) the exact same type of woman that his first wife (Emma James) was. Emma and Maisey Sue are both women who are after the good things in life. Aka. Money. And Ephraim didn’t see how selfish and greedy his first wife was until after he got married to her. All she cared about was his money, his prestige, and his influence (as he is very rich coming from a very successful family line that’s been rich since before America was discovered) and that she didn’t actually love him. It was a horrible year of marriage for Ephraim until he could finalize the divorce and he never wanted any of his posterity to experience the same sort of circumstances. 

Ephraim would send his prayers of gratitude to his God every single day that he had no child from Emma, as it would have complicated matters more throughly as he doubted he could take pride in a child born through her, though Emma did take a good chunk of change from him in the divorce. Wary of having another fake relationship, Ephraim dated/courted his second wife, Christine Lowe, for far longer than any of his fellow peers had because he wanted to check and triple check to make sure that she was wanting to be with HIM and not with him for his money or influence or prestige. Ephraim only had one son, Markov, and he was quite protective of his heir to the family fortune when his son grew old enough to begin dating/courting. (Ephraim had a hand in ending a fair few relationships outside of Markov’s knowledge, and many with his knowledge -but with less drastic measures) and nearly ended Markov’s relationship with Virgil’s mother, Taliyah Seeze, until she put her foot down and told him flat out, nothing he could do could get in the way of her love for his son because she would marry him even if he disowned Markov and left him penniless. (He became quite the doting father to her after that point.) But his fear only reemerged when Virgil was born as Ephraim wanted his grandson to marry for love too and not have a woman marry him for the money he would be set to inherit. 

Ephraim could see from the first time that they met, at Virgil and Maisey Sue’s high school graduation, that the girl had eyes for the wealth of the Hawkins family. From how her eyes lingered on their clothes, their jewelry, the pictures on the walls of the family home, the molding…Ephraim could see all the subtle signs she was giving off that Maisey Sue may not care as much for his grandson as she was showing. (It didn’t change the couple of times they met up for family gatherings. Ephraim could see the greed shining in Maisey Sue’s eyes every time) But Highschool flings are often just that. Flings. And with college on the horizon Ephraim was hoping that things would fizzle out. (And there’s not much he can do when he lives in New York and Virgil grew up in Florida and went to school there) However, being the religious man that he is. Ephraim thought it was a major scandal and blemish to the family name when it came out that Maisey Sue had become pregnant and refused to marry Virgil until after the baby came. (She didn’t want to be fat on her wedding day). He saw her as a harlot who’d ruined his grandson and was trying to weasel her way into getting the family fortune because his great-grandson would gain part of the inheritance when Ephraim died which meant his mother would too. Not wanting his grandson to be in a loveless marriage, but knowing that Virgil was the loyal sort that would stick to his responsibilities and try and make a marriage work for the sake of his son, Ephraim set to plotting to find a way to get rid of the ‘problem’ so that Virgil wouldn’t feel weighed down or obligated to hold onto a toxic relationship and could move on and find true love and have a good family and children that would uphold the Hawkins name.

So around four months after Logan was born (and Maisey Sue felt good enough about her body to be seen in a wedding dress and the wedding that would occur in a couple more weeks) Ephraim invited them out on a boating trip on the lake. (A common occurrence for him as Ephraim loves the water and taking the family out on boating trips. This time it was just him, Virgil, Maisey Sue & Logan) 

And while Ephraim didn’t have a personal vendetta against Logan, he could only picture the little monster growing up as greedy as his mother, Ephraim couldn’t see the gentle signs of his father Virgil in his great grandson. And it probably didn’t help at that time that Logan was quite the crier as he was rather fussy. (already sensing that his mother didn’t love him as much as she appeared to love him in front of others). 

Ephraim had the whole thing plotted out. Things set up for the boat to explode if it was used in a certain way. So while they were in the middle of the lake, in the deeper waters and getting ready to head back to shore after a day out, he had Maisey Sue take the wheel, under the guise of giving her some practical learning experience. However, the explosion ended up being far stronger than expected, but happened closer to shore than planned, and Ephraim barely had time to shield Virgil from the blast before it knocked them all into the water. (Flying debris knocked Virgil out and he ended up in a brief coma) Getting his grandson onto a piece of the wreckage and ensuring he wouldn’t fall off, Ephraim swam to shore and ended up finding Maisey Sue (who had somehow managed to grab Logan and protect him (from “ah my source of money!!” instinct rather than a protective mother instinct) washed up on shore with her son in her arms. Logan overall looked fine. Maisey Sue ended up with some burns, mostly on her arms and back (as she turned to shield Logan as the explosion hit) 

And in that moment…seeing Logan staring up at him with wide blue eyes…he couldn’t bring it in himself to kill the child. He ended up switching plans. Telling Maisey Sue that it was all her fault that the boat exploded and that she had killed Virgil due to her mishandling his boat (as Virgil was still floating out in the water out of Maisey Sue’s sight and she was quite shaken from her near death experience to not question Ephraim’s words.) He said that he would consider it an accident and wouldn’t send her to jail for killing him so long as she too vanished with Logan to never come near the Hawkins family again. He would tell everyone that the three of them had died out in the lake with Ephraim as the only survivor. 

Maisey Sue wasn’t just going to turn tail and run though. She argued that she would have nothing as she wouldn’t be able to return their home to gather any of her things. So Ephraim agreed to send her the sum of $10,000 a month (small change for him) for her and Logan to live off of in exchange for her silence. (confirming to Ephraim that Maisey Sue was just in the relationship for the money and fame) 

With a promise that she would take good care of Logan (as Ephraim said he would check in on occasion and make sure she hadn’t abandoned the boy)She took the deal (and made sure Ephraim gave her the first payment of $10,000 then and there) before she left for a hospital to be treated where she gave a fake name and story as to how she ended up injured and then moved back down to Florida though in a different area from where she grew up and cut all ties with the Hawkins family and her old life (except for the monthly payments Ephraim would send her) 

Ephraim then returned to Virgil and when he woke up in the hospital, told him that Maisey Sue had somehow triggered an explosion on the boat and she and Logan had been lost in the lake and the bodies couldn’t be recovered. Virgil was devastated, but had no reason to suspect his grandfather of anything nefarious so believed his story to be true. Ephraim never saw Virgil get married, or even begin dating again as he passed away around 3 years later from natural causes, leaving his wife Christine, Markov & Taliyah, and Virgil behind as his heirs. 

Maisey Sue had no idea that Ephraim had died until the monthly $10,000 check failed to show. She thought at first it might be a fluke, but when the second month came with no check she did a bit of research and discovered Ephraim’s obituary and realized that with his death her monthly income was now gone as well because Ephraim had never told a soul, not even his wife, about the monthly bribe of silence and had made no arrangements to continue it at all after his death.Maisey Sue doesn’t know that Virgil is still alive as she didn’t read the obituary that listed him as living posterity. She also doesn’t make any effort to contact Virgil’s parents because she believes Ephraim told them that she’s the reason why Virgil died and doesn’t want to explain why she’s still alive and why she hadn’t contacted them before now. (mostly she doesn’t want to end up in jail) 

With no easy source of money, Maisey Sue’s compassion for Logan (as she was ensuring he was well taken care of so she could still earn her money) died as she saw him as her cash cow and with no money coming her way it meant Logan was useless to her and that he now became a burden, another mouth to feed as she struggled to find a job that would allow her to live and pay the bills which eventually leads to the events in A Special Delivery as she had finally reached the point where Remy could step in and take Logan from his mother and return him to Virgil. 

I hope that answered your questions Confuzzeled Anon!! Sorry for the delay in response, but let me know if you have any more questions. ^^;; 

[swanjoke32]

How Cryolipolysis Treatments Functions To Eliminate Excess Weight.

Cristal ® Fat Freezing Treatment

Content

Optilase Eye Clinic.

Cryo Fat Freezing.

Fat Freezing In Brighton Hove, Fat Decrease In Brighton Hove, Cryolipolysis In Brighton And Also Hove, 3d Lipo In Brighton.

CoolSculpting is an FDA got rid of non-surgical treatment to remove persistent fat. CoolSculpting jobs by delivering precisely regulated cooling down with special applicators, so fat cells in the cured area are then icy and also consequently die. As soon as the fat cells have actually died, they do not go back to the cured area. LipoGlaze ® maker that makes use of Cryogenic Lyposis technique for a non-invasive and non-surgical fat decrease in the area of your concern. The treatment is fantastic for a removal of the unwanted pockets of fat, which are difficult to change, smoothing the body contour as well as body sculpting.

Excess Tongue Fat Could Be Leading to Sleep Apnea, Scientists Find - Discover Magazine

Excess Tongue Fat Could Be Leading to Sleep Apnea, Scientists Find.

Posted: Thu, 09 Jan 2020 08:00:00 GMT [source]

This sort of treatment is developed to deal with persistent fat cells that generally just reduce through diet regimen and also workout. If there are various other locations of your body with persistent fat you would like to deal with which aren't listed above, the very best point to do is to arrange an assessment at one of our centers. In this way, we can assess your present situation and advise you on whether CRISTAL ® Cool Sculpting is the ideal therapy for you. If not, we can advise a different therapy to far better suit your demands. Subjecting freezing temperature levels (anywhere in between -11 to +5 ° C) to subcutaneous fat-- the kind that rests straight underneath the skin-- problems fat-storing cells, setting off the body to eliminate them.

Optilase Eye Facility.

Fat Freezing is a safe as well as non-invasive means to minimize locations of body fat that continue to be immune to diet or workout (and also is additionally very effective on 'Mum Tums'). The treatment functions by delicately and also efficiently cooling down the fatty area you intend to target to a specific temperature level. While both technologies deliver effective treatments for fat decrease, Cryolipolysis has its noticeable constraints. Results are very localized to the therapy website, with little impact on skin laxity, as well as slow lymphatic drain. But with a range of various body shaping innovations offered, it can be challenging to know the best device to fit your client's needs. As the # 1 non-invasive fat decrease procedure as well as with countless CoolSculpting treatments carried out worldwide, it is proven to be a safe and also efficient therapy. CoolSculpting therapies are particularly created for those who have stubborn areas of fat that don't respond to exercise or diet plan.

What do you do after Cryolipolysis?

Take It Easy After Treatment Be gentle when showering or bathing the area, using water that is not cold nor hot and by gently patting it dry. There are some rare side effects following CoolSculpting that include an enlargement of the treated area. If anything doesn't seem right, call your doctor.

Cryolipolysis, typically described as fat freezing, is a non surgical fat reduction treatment that uses cool temperature level to decrease fat down payments in certain areas of the body. CoolSculpting jobs by targeting pockets of persistent fat as well as cold them, leading to the fat cells being broken down and eliminated from the body using the lymphatic system.

Cryo Fat Freezing.

' As the fat cells that are frozen are permanently eliminated from the body, results are commonly much longer-lasting than other fat-removing therapies,' says Dr Bashir. An optimal prospect will certainly have persistent areas of pinchable excess fat that they would love to reduce, where basic diet plan and/or exercise has actually stopped working for them in the past. CoolSculpting is NOT a weight-loss program or appropriate for individuals that are obese, but is a practical option to liposuction. The therapy will be talked about thoroughly during your consultation to see whether it appropriates for you.

While normal applicators cool down from two sides, the 360 fat freeze applicators ice up the entire location, therefore damaging extra fat and also targeting areas tough to treat with basic applicators.

After Cryolipolysis treatment the fat cells are destroyed by a natural procedure called apoptosis, the fat cells are removed by the body with the lymphatic system as a waste item.

As the fat cells are removed body as with Liposuction, fat will not transfer again in the same location that was treated.

The 360 applicator is guaranteed to ruin even more fat cells in a solitary Cryolipolysis session than typical applicators.

With progressed temperature control as well as bigger area, the 360 applicator can create better lead to fewer sessions.

CoolSculpting, likewise referred to as fat freezing can be carried out on a number of different body locations consisting of the chin, arms, back, bra fat, abdominal area, flanks, hips, upper legs and butts. CoolSculpting has actually passed FDA clearance and therefore confirmed to be a risk-free and also trusted approach of minimizing fat. Any type of effort to replicate the fat freezing process in the house carries a number of threats, the least of which is frostbite. Those who perform CoolSculpting in a facility are appropriately trained as well as licensed in the procedure.

Because of CoolSculpting's precision, bordering cells and also tissue are untouched. Slowly, the fat layer's density will reduce, leaving you toned and sensation great. You have stubborn budges of fat cells in localized areas, such as chin, arms, internal thighs, abdominal area or flanks. CoolSculpting is an extremely targeted procedure, and also there is no chance to do a complete body fat freezing session. Multiple areas can be sometimes treated in one session, and the majority of certainly, the procedure can be repeated-- just don't expect every little thing at once. As stated above, CoolSculpting promotes as much as 25% fat cells reduction in the cured area. Furthermore, duplicated treatments can executed to freeze as several fat cells as possible, accomplishing optimal results.

Instantly before the therapy, the skin in the target location is covered with a gel pad for defense. The fat down payments are gently drawn into the applicator and frozen to a temperature level of up to -11 ° C. CoolSculpting is an aesthetic procedure that supplies an efficient way to get rid of persistent fat from your body in a particular location to accomplish a much more sculpted figure. Prior to going through arms fat freezing , several people wish to know how many CoolSculpting sessions they will certainly require to achieve their preferred outcome. Nonetheless, discovering a non-surgical therapy that in fact provides results can be tricky which is why CoolSculpting has become so popular recently. It's tough to claim, due to the fact that each treatment has different benefits and may be preferable depending on the results you desire.

Many individuals witness a renovation in their neck profile a few weeks after their second cryolipolysis treatment session. The outcomes of cryolipolysis chin therapy are permanent, as long as a healthy and balanced way of living is kept; the icy fat cells can not expand back. coolsculpting arms St Albans from cryolipolysis will differ based upon the recipient's diet plan, lifestyle and cellulite make-up. Cryolipolysis treatment is a non-surgical procedure throughout which freezing cool temperatures are related to fat cells in the targeted location causing a sleeker profile. The application of an air conditioning paddle-like suction gadget activates cell fatality in the fat cells however not skin cells, implying various other tissue continues to be unharmed. Just one therapy is called for, but since the body does take a number of months to clear out the dead fat cells, outcomes will just be visible after 6-12 weeks. CoolSculpting therapy is a non-surgical fat elimination procedure that works progressively to minimize stubborn areas of fat on the body.

Good candidates have noticeable lumps in specific locations, consisting of under the chin, they want to remove. See us at The Hogarth MediSpa to obtain your complimentary consultation. We offer both Cristal and CoolSculpting as fat freezing treatments at our centers here at Zenith. So whether you're searching for fat freezing in London, or fat freezing in Nottingham, we are here to suit your demands. Both the Cristal and CoolSculpting makers function a little differently and also are better matched to different people, relying on their existing circumstance as well as what they wish to achieve. Throughout your appointment, we'll evaluate whether Cristal or CoolSculpting is finest matched to you. However, it is essential to keep in mind that Fat Freezing, CRISTAL ® and also CoolSculpting are ruled out kinds of fat burning, and for that reason are not suggested as a treatment of weight problems.

Making use of a highly-targeted procedure known as cryolipolysis, fat cells below the skin are frozen. This triggers them to go through apoptosis, which your body will process gradually.

[themockingcrows]

Two Fates, Two Kingdoms ch. 19: A Broken Moon

While Dirk puts on the strongest of faces for his command, not all is well behind the curtains. AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2606711/chapters/63960421

Notes: Hey ya'll, sorry for the long wait! It's been. Well. It's been one hell of a time, as I'm sure you're all well aware. But no time like the present to get back in gear.

    “How long has this been happening?” Jake asked. He’d managed to get Dirk to his room, where the king promptly pushed away from his helper to heave in a bin. His lips were tinted red as his fingertips when he was done, and he looked just as ashen as he had in the hall. Dirk’s steps were shaky as he wiped his mouth and hands before walking to his bedside table for a glass of water to slowly sip.

    “Some months now. It’s not daily, thankfully, but every few days.. Something will set the coughing off, or my stomach will roil. Blood above and below.”

    “What does your physician say of it?” pressed Jake, looking sincerely worried now. Here he’d been wanting to question the fellow and have a chat, and now all he wanted to do was stuff him into a set of pajamas and force him into bed.

    “That I need rest. Less stress. Gentle diet, more time in bed, more sleep. The usual,” he said once he’d finished his glass of water. Dirk took a seat on his bed then and carefully pulled off his shoes, arranging them precisely in position to where they’d been that morning. “A lot of things I won’t be doing.”

    Jake lifted a brow and crossed his arms awkwardly, uncertain of what to do with himself, where to sit. Eventually he went to a spare seat and tugged it closer to the bed to continue speaking with the king.

    “And why not?”

    “Because I’ve more important things to be doing. If you’ve not noticed, I’ve been rather busy with this whole running a country thing, and if I ease up everything will fall apart like a stack of cards.”

    “You’ve siblings. And advisors.”

    “Bah.”

    Jake frowned. This.. didn’t make any sense. Was this how the country was being run this whole time? By a single man running himself into the dirt to juggle everything at once? It wasn’t at all how his family had been taught to spread out the rule. There were no advisors weighing in to take some of the thought and effort out? Nobody to bounce ideas off of? Not even his siblings to weigh in or take responsibilities of lesser important tasks? No wonder there was so much time for the sisters to spend writing, there was little else for them to really do in the castle by way of giving orders or fulfilling duties.

    “If I may..?”

    “You may not,” Dirk said promptly, “but no doubt you will anyway, so spit it out.”

    Clearing his throat for a moment, Jake soon leaned forward on his elbows with a concerned expression. “I see that you’re wanting to handle everything on your own for whatever reason, but what’s your plan for when that inevitably fails?”

    “Oh. Quite simple. It won’t fail,” Dirk said. “This was an unforeseen circumstance, but it’s being taken in stride and adjusted for.”

    “And your siblings, do they know?”

    “Roxy and Rose do. Dave would have known as well, had he been around to see it. They do me the favor of not bringing it up, and if they make the mistake of bringing it up it gets dropped plenty quick,” Dirk said. He rose to his feet, pace slow and easy as he crossed the room to rummage in his wardrobe for a change of clothes. “Do me the favor of not trying to kill me for a few moments. I’d hate to have a near death experience in my underclothes.”

    “Wh- I’d never!” sputtered Jake, taken aback enough he recoiled physically in his seat as Dirk looked pointedly at him before excusing himself through a door which he left cracked to continue the conversation as he changed. The soft rustle of clothing moving and hitting the floor followed Dirk’s words.

    “Is this all you plan on doing, then? Question my motives and methods, offer ham handed advice as an outsider, appeal to emotions and concerns, and then wander off feeling better about yourself?”

    “I-. No, I just-”

    “Or are you going to pose my family as the be all end all reason for doing things instead of my entire kingdom and everyone inside of it who rely on me.”

    “N-no, just. I was.. I was just..”

    “You were just what, then. Not here to guilt me, not here to offer advice supposedly despite already trying to do that here and there, not here to try killing me.” Dirk reappeared in a long night shirt, bare calves on display as he went to dump the clothing into a hamper before returning to sit on his bed properly, ankles crossing. “Consider me curious.”

    Jake stared for a moment before looking hurriedly to the ground, trying to refocus and get his words together. It had happened again. The same reaction as before, robbing his words and making his mind shrink back as if he were being chewed out by his father. The exact same way.. Licking his lips, Jake finally lifted his chin.

    “Teach me to do what you’re doing. What you just did.”

    “...If you don’t know how to change into night clothes on your own, are you intending on sleeping in the nude, or..?”

    “Not that!” he cried. “Just. The forcefulness you have is different to my own! I know how to sound official, I know how to sound powerful, but the effect is very different. When you speak it commands attention, when I speak it’s more requesting it. When you snip and snap your words they’re sharp as blades, when I do it it’s. ...It’s very not,” finished Jake lamely.

    Dirk stared at him, sized him up, and seemed to be weighing his options.

    “You, a prince who has apparently abdicated all positions of power as it is, are asking me, the reigning king of the land that’s currently allowing you to stay within it with certain restrictions due to the being at war with your country of origin, how to.. be a better royal leader.”

    “Or leader in general. A bit more callous,” Jake admitted. “I was meant to be next in line for the crown before we left. I could have done it, if pressed, but not well. Not really, not with my heart entirely in it. But hearing you speak? It’s like hearing my father’s words cut the air! How do you do that?!”

    “Are you out of your fucking mind or just stupid.”

    “You see! Like that!” Jake said, pointing Dirk’s direction, face lighting up. “Just like that, how do you do that so easily!”

    Again Dirk stared at his earlier helper, trying to decide if he really was crazy or pulling his leg, before he finally cracked a lopsided grin. Okay. He’d bite.

    “...Fine. You’re a strange one, but I’ll consider this your one direct request allotment while staying here. First lesson: stop acting like an overly eager puppy in conversation, it sets you up for failure.”

    “Like a-? Oh. Yes, of course,” Jake chuckled. “My apologies, I’m not normally like this when important things are happening, when I’m focused. I’m just a bit excited is all.”

    Dirk looked away as he slipped up into his soft bedding, slender legs disappearing beneath the sheets and blanket before shuffling to remain propped up during conversation. He’d be back up soon as this Prospitian left his damned room, but for now he may as well humor his concerns and give the appearance of resting or at least a supposed intention to rest.

    “Oh, of course,” he said, though his tone belied his belief. “You’re only like this because of me, surely.”

    “Because of being somewhere so new with someone who has the talents I’d like to acquire, yes!” Jake said, apparently none the wiser to Dirk’s inner thoughts. He beamed in place, a perky sun in the presence of an exhausted moon.

    “Lesson two: cease being an open book. What people can read from you should be merely the specific script you’ve laid out for them and nothing more,” Dirk said, leaning back into his cushions and crossing his arms over his stomach. Okay, this was more comfortable than sitting upright, especially after the coughing fit. A little longer wouldn’t hurt anyone. “I know you can’t be this hopeless. Show me your face you wear when you’re conducting official business.”

    Jake was like a different man. It took a moment but he straightened his back, tamed his smile and pulled up the charm instead. He was appealing and looked approachable, and when he finally spoke it was with soft enunciation that bespoke confidence. All in all, when he was trying, Jake looked a bit like a different person.

    “Like this?”

    Dirk frowned.

    “You seem to have a firm enough grasp on everything already, why are you asking for advice and acting like an imbecile the rest of the time if you’re capable enough at first glance.”

    Jake sighed and slumped somewhat.

    “Because it’s all an act. You don’t seem to be acting much at all, you just have this air about you naturally. How can I do that?” asked Jake, frowning. “I’d like to be able to just have it be like a lit candle, happening while I wanted it to without needing to focus the entire time on it, then be able to snuff it out when the work is done without it being so drastic.”

    “You’re asking the impossible,” Dirk decided with a shake of his head. “The most I can offer is some advice, but you’re asking the impossible and I can make no promises as to that.” It was getting harder to will himself away from the cushions, and he could feel fatigue creeping up his body from his toes like spreading frostbite, but the trap was already set. Damn it all, it looked like rest would be coming his way whether he wanted it or not, at least for a time. “Everyone wears masks, you just need to be more strategic in how you are while removing it or placing it on so it’s less shocking, it seems like.”

    Jake continued to frown, but he looked like he was parsing Dirk’s words closely as he could, trying to weigh the options out.

    “I don’t think everyone’s always wearing masks, that would be no way to live,” he said. “But you’re right in the donning part of the equation I suppose. Perhaps I should mind myself closer whilst the mask is off, it’ll feel more natural to put it on then?”

    Made as good of sense as anything else Jake had thought of.

    When Dirk didn’t reply with the same speed as before, Jake glanced up from the middle distance he’d been staring at in thought, surprised. The king, still gray in the face, was settled in repose with his chin gently turned at an angle, head drooping down towards his chest. Slow, even breaths made his chest rise and fall beneath the blankets, and every so often he’d imperceptibly twitch a muscle here or there as if trying and failing to rouse himself. Sleep had claimed him, whether he wanted to be claimed or not, and Jake couldn’t help but grin a bit. Unconscious Dirk didn’t seem nearly as imposing a figure. If anything he looked younger than he was when the crease between his brows was gone, making him look more similar to Dave than before. Perhaps it was this similarity that made Jake’s hand reach out to smooth the bangs away from Dirk’s brow before he froze and yanked his hand back as if stung and rose to his feet. Easy now, mind your manners, mind your hands. Don’t do weird things in a place that’s potentially going to kill you on a whim.

    “Perhaps we’ll continue speaking later,” Jake said quietly once he calmed himself down. He bowed, a sign of respect he felt he owed Dirk even if the other wasn’t awake, before he quietly turned and left the room, sliding the door shut with a gentle click behind himself.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

    “Jake?” Dave asked, surprised when the elder prince entered his chambers. John was reclined on the foot of his bed comfortably as if he were back in his own room, head cradled on the palm of his hand, and Dave was propped up with his back against his lover’s stomach and hips so they could share a book together. Another book was open in front of John, acting as a translation key they could both access. “I was wondering where you went, you were gone for so long.”

    “Dirk and I shared a few words and time got away from us,” Jake chuckled after a moment.

    “Really? I didn’t think that he’d have shared his time with you, based on how he was acting before,” Dave admitted, marking his place in the book before closing it and setting it down at his side.

    Jake came closer before sitting on the bed as well, humming as he settled near John’s feet and leaned back with his weight on his palms. He lifted his chin a bit and clucked softly, pursing his lips as he thought over his words. “Mm. Perhaps it’s the elder brother in both of us, but I think we hit it off fairly well enough. Was allowed into his chambers and we discussed a few things, I believe he’ll be more interested in talking tomorrow though. He seemed quite sleepy when I left.”

    “Dirk? Sleepy? Hah, I haven’t seen him sleepy since I was little,” Dave admitted. “It’s like he never sleeps. He’s always into something, up to something, making things, doing things.. Any time I used to try going to his room, he was always already awake.”

    “Well. Maybe he was just feeling a bit tired from all the sudden changes the day has brought and the stress such things bring with it,” Jake said, shrugging his broad shoulders. He could still see the red drips between those pale fingers, the seething look in those golden eyes. A proud, pained, haughty man doing his god damned best to pretend everything was perfectly fine with more effort than even his body could keep up with... There was an unspoken honor Jake felt on keeping what he’d seen secretive, and that unspoken promise would be honored to the best of his ability. It wasn’t his secret to divulge, and what little trust he’d managed to scrape up between them so far would be thrown out the window in a hurry if he opened his trap now. “Aside from that though, how did you two finish your meal? Well I hope?”

    “Oh, yes. We just started tucking back into that book again and.. Jake, it’s kind of amazing,” Dave admitted. “I think we have a real treasure on our hands.”

    “Or a real sack of lies, depending on how you look at it,” John said quietly, gaining a huff from Dave. He reached for the closed book and wiggled it a bit for emphasis. “If we’re reading this correctly, this accounts for the missing prince and princess of Prospit and Derse proper, back before the war.”

    Jake quirked a brow. “How so?”

    “They apparently wanted to be wed without the political mess hanging over their heads. They wanted to marry for love.. So they fled,” Dave said. “Dropped responsibilities, made it look like a massacre and fled to Skaia.”

    “What’s the purpose of that though? Wouldn’t they know that the fighting would just break out?” Jake said with a frown. “If that’s the truth, they should have just come back and explained things when everything started to grow worse.”

    “Maybe they did,” Dave said. “We haven’t gotten too far in it, and there’s more of the book to go. I can’t imagine why anyone would turn their back on their country in such a way though.”

    John cleared his throat. “Oh, I don’t know, it doesn’t seem that far fetched considering I abandoned Prospit to bring you to Derse. Is your memory acting up again, Dave? Headache coming on?”

    Dave rolled his eyes. “This is very different. We were already deep in war for this long, it would have continued even if I came alone. I don’t know what can be done to stop something like this for certain.. But in the past, before there was this much history of bloodshed, what purpose would such a stunt serve? It makes no sense to me.”

    Jake reached over for the book and flipped through it for a moment till he realized it was in Skaian, then handed it back. “Pity, I feel such a book would do well with some illustrations.”

    “Don’t you have things with your prince in them? Books with illustrations I mean,” Dave asked curiously.

    “Oh, yes, here and there. To not forget him,” he said. “...It does seem odd that they’d not include her as well, but then again perhaps it’s for the best. Avoided making her look like some horrid crone out of anger.”

    “She was lovely, and I’ve no doubt the prince was handsome,” Dave said. “But I agree, I’d like to see them together at least once. If this is true and they loved each other enough to run away from everything, they must have been very devoted to each other already.”

    “For an arranged political marriage that’s rare,” John said. “I already know some of the people my father had eyes on for marriage prospects and honestly I can’t imagine a romance like that happening from such a quick meeting...”

    “What, you didn’t want to kiss me after I wound up beneath your bed like a beast when I was first in your chambers?” Dave asked with a smirk, reaching back to ruffle John’s messy hair. He wound up squeezed around the middle for his troubles, dragged backwards when John rolled with him in his bearlike grasp till he was shuffled for dear life and squeezed bodily with his legs and arms at the same time between laughs. “I yield! I yield!”

    Jake smiled softly at their antics. This was the entire reason they’d left, at the core of it all. To protect this.

    “Even if it wasn’t immediate, it was still surprising you two wound up hitting it off as well as you did. If you’d just wound up blending in like any other servant I don’t know how our lives would have turned out differently.”

    “I’d rather not think of the alternatives,” John admitted. “It’s been enough of a ride to just get here, and even with the bumps I’m happy. Satisfied.”

    “Satisfied wearing a collar in my brother’s court?”

    “Eh. We’re not being forced into actual servitude, I can bear wearing some heavy jewelry for a while,” he chuckled, releasing Dave finally and finding himself even more pleased when the Dersite didn’t flee his side, instead tucking himself nice and close in a more comfortable position. “Besides, it’s all a formality. Nobody’s treating us any different.”

    “We’re getting stared at plenty,” Jake corrected.

    “Can you blame them for gawking? A set of Prospitians suddenly in the heart of the castle, wandering around with the missing prince? You stand out a good deal.”

    “Yeah, we’re twice your size.”

    “You’re also terribly handsome,” Dave smirked, clearing his throat when he could all but hear Jake roll his eyes playfully. “Anyway. ...I’m glad you and my brother apparently get on, Jake. Things could be a lot worse if you didn’t get along with him. My influence or not.”

    “Speaking of your influence,” Jake said, “what are your plans for things? If you remain and the marriage takes place.”

    “I plan on doing what I can, but I don’t plan on pushing myself,” Dave admitted. “I’ve been away and out of the loop for so long I’m concerned I’ll be seen as a novelty more than as a prince anymore, at least for a time. People will be wanting to see me just to see me, not to hear what I’ve got to say.”

    “See you and your pet Prospitian,” John joked, taking up Dave’s hand to kiss his fingers. The slim digits wiggled briefly in front of his lips before going still once more, letting him do as he pleased.

    “What about you, Jake? If things are well and we remain, are you going to stay too? Or go adventuring?”

    “Mm. I’m not certain… It doesn’t feel quite right to just leave, anymore,” Jake admitted. Not since his talk with Dirk, at least. “I believe there are things in Derse I could learn, for instance. And if there’s any hope of Jade or Jane achieving power-”

    “We’re still hoping Prospit doesn’t unleash a hellish attack on us for my taking you two here,” Dave interrupted, worrying his lip for a moment. John squeezed his hand and he ceased his nervous nibbling a moment later.

    “I have faith in Jade and Jane,” John said. “They’re capable and intelligent, I doubt they’re going to just keep following orders forever.”

    “...Are you suggesting they stage a coup?” Jake asked.

    “I’m suggesting they stage a coup,” John said with a grin. “Jade has the military at her command, and she’s the best they’ve got. If she took power from father… then she and Jane would be the ones in command.”

    “And they’d be willing to listen,” Dave said. “Or, at least, to talk with my brother about all of this.”

    “Well. I doubt it will just end the war overnight. Even if a peaceful solution is found, or something of importance is done, there will be infighting for ages,” John said. “This much bad blood doesn’t just disappear. But it would stop Skaia from being in such a militarized zone, and we’d stop waging constant skirmishes back and forth for territory. Instead we’d be able to join forces to settle outbreaks of violence as they occur and try to integrate people along the lines more than what they are now.”

    “You know, for someone who claims to not have much of an interest in politics, you’re quite adept at them,” Jake said with a grin. “I suppose we’d best start finding ways to send word to the girls we’ve arrived safely, strike up some form of communication in case they need assistance.”

    “Hey, I must have picked SOMETHING up from all those lessons I had to sit and listen to over the years. Also… what assistance can we really give?” John said with a shrug. “We’re three. Any assistance from Derse would be frowned upon, I believe.”

    “It would look like we were taking over, instead of putting someone level headed on the throne,” Dave agreed. “I think right now, the ball is in your sisters’ court.”

    “I think right now it’s too late to be talking politics when we’ve barely been here and in one piece for any length of time,” John said with a yawn. “What time do we sleep ?”

    Dave stretched a bit, popping a spot in his upper back. “Any time I suppose. It’s not as if we have an audience to attend to in the morning. Just breakfast with my family.”

    Breakfast with the family sounded so casual, it was almost easy to forget how things stood now, how they were being kept. How tense things truly were behind the civility, now that the added threat of danger was looming on the horizon. No, Jake decided. Dave was home and celebrated, and things were going to be positive, at least for a little while. He would deal with Dirk in his own way while learning from him, perhaps. Grease the wheels for their younger siblings and their romance.

    After all, what better could come out of a war between two parties than star crossed love like this? He glanced over towards Dave and John, who were caught in a fit of murmuring quietly to each other as they adjusted things around them, sorting out where to set the books they’d been looking over so they’d not get damaged before Rose could see them, trying to decide if John wanted underneath the blankets or not as Dave himself casually tucked himself into place.

    The world was gone for them, and all that existed was a sweet, slightly somber bedtime routine that had taken place so many nights in reverse that he’d honestly lost count. They exchanged a chaste kiss before Dave nestled into the crook of John’s shoulder and chest, both glancing down to the foot of the bed at Jake with a grin.

    “Feels odd to have beds again, doesn’t it?” John asked. “Even if we weren’t outdoors for that long, not being in a sleeping pack is strange.”

    “Same with not all huddling together,” Dave admitted.

    “Well, you two seem to be huddling plenty,” Jake said with a grin of amusement.

    “...There’s room for one more,” Dave said, patting the other side of the mattress. “If you’d like company in a new place for the first night, I mean, rather than making do in the cot.”

    “Rethinking my offer of taking turns servicing you, eh?” Jake joked, already moving to take the invitation. He slipped up with a jingle behind Dave, giving him room but being more than content to snatch one of the many cushions for himself to use with his head and a folded arm.

    “Perhaps. You’ll make a fine source of warmth,” Dave chuckled. “Though, I’d recommend you both get under the blanket. The fires are warm now, but they’ll die out by morning, and I don’t want you two getting sick so soon, after finally making it here.”

    Without a word, the brothers rose up and slipped beneath the offered covers, soon curling closer together, Dave in the center like a pearl hidden between the shells of an oyster. He smiled softly, content and comfortable, and feeling safer than he had before. Even in his own home, learned habits of safety died hard, and it wasn’t till his friend was near as his lover that Dave could settle down and sleep.

    John followed not long after, exhausted after the long day, but Jake remained awake a time longer, green eyes alert and lingering in the dark. Wondering as to what the other royals were doing, and if a certain golden eyed king was still asleep or if he was awake once more burning the midnight oil running a kingdom on his own ruined spine. When sleep claimed him, it was dreamless and dark as ink, but miraculously… restful.

[bpro-cardstories]

Ryuji Korekuni Kizuna 01

2019 ー Unrelieable Figure [頼りない姿]

“ If you are shaken by this much trouble, how can you properly act as an A&R?”

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Tsubasa and Kitakore have a meeting for tomorrow’s schedule. 

‘Uhm… Tomorrow morning you will have a recording for the song program at the TV station. Afterwards, you will move to the radio’s live broadcast right away’, Tsubasa explains. 

‘Alright. It seems that it’s going to be quite busy’, Tomo replies. 

‘Yes. I will make arrangements to make the move as smooth as possible. Regarding the song program, it is planned that after the talk you will move to the song recording. But because of the tight schedule costume and makeup change might become quite hectic…’

‘It’s ok, we are used to it. Besides that, Tsubasa, aren’t you a bit too eager recently?’, Ryuji asks. 

‘Eh… is that so?’ 

‘You are. Yesterday after we came back from the recording, you stayed behind and helped with work, isn’t that so’, Ryuji shares his observation. 

‘That’s why if you break down, you are incapable of being a professional. Do you understand?’, Ryuji lectures her further. 

‘O-Of course!’ 

‘In other words, Ryuji wants Tsubasa to rest, is what you want to say?’ 

‘... Tomo, you don’t need to say it extra’, Ryuji pouts with a blush.

‘Ahaha, I’m sorry.’ 

‘Anyways… If you get too careless, you easily make more mistakes, right. Be careful to not look like at the beginning’, the shorter male adds.

‘Beginning?’, Tomo is puzzled. 

‘Tomo, don’t you remember? Look, right after Tsubasa became our A&R --’ ___________________

(Flashback starts.) 

‘Kitakado-san, Ryuji-kun, I will be in your care from today on!’ 

‘Ah right, from today onwards Tsubasa will be at our side, right. I think, it will be difficult before you get used to everything but we will support you if anything happens. So let’s do our best together’, Tomo welcomes her warmly.

‘Yes! Thank you very much!’ 

‘...Haa.’

‘Ryuji?’ 

‘I thought, Yashamaru-san would be here as well today but... Even though she just joined and knows nothing. Will she be around on her own?’ 

‘Ah, uhm, I, I will do my very best!’, Tsubasa tries to not falter at those harsh words. 

‘It’s only natural to work hard, it’s work after all. But if it bears fruit is another question. Because you came here, as a professional you have to work responsibly. I won’t forgive you if you become fickle  and take things lightly.’

‘Ah…’

‘Ryuji, it’s not good if you say it like that. At first there are a lot things one doesn’t know. Don’t you think she wants to be able to follow us?’

‘....’ 

‘.... That’s right.’

‘What?’

‘I think, it’s natural for Ryuji-kun to be worried. I haven’t accomplished any results yet, that’s why I can’t say I want you to easily trust me. However, my job is to make you both feel comfortable at work. I will do what I can!’ 

‘Fu. That’s a great fighting spirit, Tsubasa. We are counting on you’, Tomo replies with a small smile.

‘Come one, Ryuji’, he prompts his friend to say something.

‘...Well, don’t hold us back. Stay quiet’, Ryuji can’t bring himself to be more open to Tsubasa. 

‘How troubling… I’m sorry, Tsubasa.’

‘N-No. It’s fine.’ 

‘....’ ______

Location change. Kitakore moved on to have rehearsal.

‘That’s all for Kitakore’s rehearsal! Thanks for your cooperation!’, the staff member informs everyone. 

‘Both of you, good work’, Tsubasa was waiting for them to finish. 

‘Tsubasa, where are the drinks?’, Ryuji asks the moment he reaches her. 

‘Ah, uhm…’ 

‘Did you not bring them here?’ 

‘I-I’m sorry! I left them in the waiting room…’ 

‘.... Haa. Next time, bring them here in advance, alright?’

‘Because the studio is dry, you want to have water more often’, Tomo adds. 

‘Understood. Next time, I’ll always --’ 

She then is interrupted by a staff member. 

‘Sumisora-san, Kitakore-san, what’s the matter with the notice?’ 

‘Eh, notice?’ 

‘Yes, it was said that we would hear the details from Sumisora-san.’ 

(What do I do… I didn’t hear anything from Yashamaru-san…) 

‘Uuhm, that …’ 

‘Tsubasa, how about calling Yashamaru-san?’, Tomo suggests to her. 

‘Ah, you are right! I’m sorry, I will confirm right away!’ 

‘I understand. Sorry for the haste’, the staff member thanks her. 

‘.....’, Ryuji is not pleased at how the scene is unfolding. 

Some time went by but they still didn’t start with the production. 

‘Well, the production should start soon’, Tomo remarks. 

‘Tomo, your bangs are in your eyes. Can you bend down a bit?’ 

‘Thanks, Ryuji.’ 

Right in that moment, the staff member comes to Kitakore to bring bad news.

‘Everyone, sorry!’ 

‘Hm…?’, Tomo wonders what’s wrong. 

‘Due to trouble with the equipment, it will take a bit longer. Kitakore-san, please wait in the waiting room!’ 

‘Eh…’, Tsubasa becomes restless. 

(Because we have a location shooting afterwards, we need to leave right after when the work here ends….)

‘Uhm, excuse me! Kitakore has another work to attend after this, it would be a problem if we are late....’ 

‘Even if you say so… We can’t do anything about the equipment trouble. We also don’t want to extend the recording time.’ 

‘T-That’s right, however….’ 

‘We are fine with this much. Tsubasa, you are worrying too much’, Ryuji eventually joins in. 

‘Eh… Ryuji-kun?’ 

‘Even if time is pushing, we will make it in time without fail. Please rest assured. We were able to do plenty of rehearsal, so we will perform perfectly, all in one take.’

‘Ahaha, how reliable! Then I will call you when the recording can resume!’, the staff member is relieved at the confidence shown by Ryuji. 

‘Yes, thank you very much!’, Ryuji thanks the staff for the their words. 

(Ryuji.kun, amazing… In the blink of an eye, he changed the atmosphere in the room.)

‘... Listen, Tsubasa. That behaviour from before is troublesome.’ 

‘Ah….’

‘Since you are our A&R, you have to act more confidently. Surely, you might be a newcomer. But it doesn’t matter.’ 

‘Yes, that’s right…’ 

‘If you are shaken by this much trouble, how can you properly act as an A&R?’

‘Ryuji, stop. Shouldn’t we do the things we can do now? Assuming that we are late to the next meeting, let’s read the script. Like that, we can shorten the time of the briefing session’, Tomo steps in to calm down the situation. 

‘.... You are right. Should we start at once?’, Ryuji agrees. 

‘Okay. Just in case, Tsubasa can you contact the next location to let them know?’, Tomo asks her. 

‘Y-Yes…!’ _________________

(Flashback ends.)

‘There certainly was a time like that. It feels like it’s been such long time ago. I think, the Tsubasa now possesses composure though’, Tomo reminisces about that period. 

‘That’s true. Now we can leave the general things to her with relief’, Ryuji shares the same opinion as his partner. 

‘Fufu, thank you very much. But it’s embarrassing to remember... At that time, even the smallest thing upset me.’

‘True, under normal circumstances even then you were flustered’, Ryuji agrees with her.

To be continued...

[bigtiddycommity]

Clé: Miroh (1)

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader ft. Stray kids

Warnings: Slight profanity

Summary: An up and coming singer is introduced to the rough and unfair world of the music industry when she is tricked into a fake relationship with a popular idol. Her entire world has been turned upside down and now not only is she hated by millions of fans around the world but she is now despised by her...boyfriend?

Word count: 2k

Welcome to Clé- Admin peach

Enjoy!

___________________

Rule number one in business: Always read and review your contract. Why? Because you could end up on a plane to Korea and leaving your entire life behind.

Aurelia had made possibly the most naive and idiotic decision she could make and now it had completely changed her life; maybe even her career. Blinded by the excitement of her and her group releasing their new album, she foolishly signed her new contract without reading the fine print. If she had, she would have seen that it was a trap.

“It’s crazy how far we've come. A couple years ago we were praying for a big label like Lush to even consider giving us a second glance, God!” Ivy said with a faraway look in her eye.

The popular girl group, Lunar ,sat in their shared dorm talking about how far they had come in their career. The group consisted of four girls between the ages of 19 to 22 years of age. They had gone from struggle of being noticed, to charting #1 albums in dozens of countries.

“I know. My parents swore I was going to be a useless college drop out. Thanks for the vote of confidence, mom.” Oldest member, Mina said shaking her head with a laugh.

“I remember your mom storming into practice that one time screaming about life goals. That was fucking hilarious!” Nicole, the trouble maker, said cackling at her bandmates embarrassment.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. That woman is a psycho.” Mina grumbled.

The group soon got quiet as the three older members turned to look at their baby of the group, Auriella, who seemed to be in a world of her own.

“You okay, princess?” Ivy asked softly.

“I’m just...happy. For the longest time, I thought I would never make it and I would be stuck in the system forever.” The small girl said looking at her hands, blushing slightly.

“Hey,” the older girl scooted closer and put her arm around her friend. “You made it. You're here, with us and we are killing it! Things couldn't be better and it's all thanks to you. If you hadn't fought for us so hard all these years, we never would have made it.” She said seriously.

“Yeah, babe. You damn near killed yourself for this group. Give yourself a little credit.” Nicole added with a smirk.

Instead of replying, Auriella just smiled with tear filled eyes and held her arms open.

“Aww!”

“Our baby, Ella!”

“We did it, guys.”

Little did they know, their world was about to be crushed. Things were about to change in ways they never expected.

Their music label, Lush Management, had unfortunately run into a few money issues and it couldn't have happened at the worst possible time. Their biggest artist group was preparing to release another possibly billboard charting album but they had no money to promote it. To make matters worse, the company was in works with another foreign agency, JYP Entertainment.

There was talk of a possible merging of the two companies to expand their already large audiences. Due to the sudden financial issues, fear set in that JYP would no longer want to work with them but much to the labels surprise, a deal was offered. A PR Contract. One of their female artists would move to Korea and sign a dating contract tying her to one of their artists. Apparently one of their artists, though popular, needed more exposure to bring attention to their upcoming album series and world tour.

Knowing that none of their artists would willingly put their career on an unplanned hiatus so suddenly in a plan that did not benefit them, the label knew they had to act quickly and discreetly. They could deal with the anger of their artist after the contract was signed. After many meetings and weeks of deliberation, Aurelia Duran was chosen. She was one of the company's most loyal artists and knew that she was slightly naive, meaning that she wouldn't suspect a thing. They were right.

Two weeks later

Aurelia was told to come down to the company to talk to the CEO. Though confused, she did as she was told. Figuring that they probably wanted to talk to her about the songs she wrote for her group's new album. When she walked into the large room, the young girl automatically felt a shift in atmosphere. The air in the room seemed tense and strict. Auriella had been signed with this label for 3 years and trained with them for 6, so she was close with the executives and producers. They never had such an aura with each other, so she began to feel uncertain of what she was about to be told.

“Auriella, please, have a seat.” Said her manager, Rabecca. She had watched this girl grow and work herself to the bone to achieve her dreams. Rebecca felt terrible knowing she was about to take all of that away from the sweet girl, but sacrifices needed to be made and bills needed to be paid.

“Aurelia…” She started.

_______________________________________________

Meanwhile, in Korea

“What are you gonna do, Chan-hyung?” Felix asked. All of the stray kids had just gotten home from a meeting at JYP and were informed of their leaders new - and forced- relationship status.

“There's nothing I can do. You heard them, it's in my contract so I literally can't do anything, whether I like it or not.” Chan replied, sounding frustrated. “This is a mess.”

“Do you know what she looks like? Or how old she is?” Jeongin asked curiously, only to be pushed slightly by Hyunjin who sat next to him. This was not the time for that.

“I know just as much as the rest of you.” Was Chan’s gruff reply.

“Well, it's late and there's nothing we can do about this now, so I think we should call it a day. Plus we have to pack, too, apparently.” Woojin reminded the group. During the meeting, they were informed that they would be moving into a different house along with the girl Chan was now ‘dating’. Tomorrow was also the day they were all supposed to meet this mystery girl they would soon be living with.

Chan signed heavily before getting up and walking towards his shared room without a word. To say the leader was dreading the next day was an understatement. His life was being controlled in ways he never saw coming. He couldn't even love who he wanted. Was this the life he fought so hard for? The life he and his members fought to have? He was beginning to wonder if it was worth it.

The next morning, Chan was up before everyone but stayed lying in bed. If he got up, he would have to face the day and all the changes that were about to happen. Chan wasn't quite ready to face reality just yet so he laid there. Thinking about who this girl was. Who was she and what was she like? Did she agree with this plan done by the two merging companies? Or was she just as contractually obligated as he was and unhappy the sudden ‘relationship’?

Part of the idol wanted to give this girl a chance. More likely than not, she didn't have a say in this either and was forced into the entire situation. She probably didn't even know who he was, for all he knew. On the other hand, Chan couldn't bring himself to actually think of being nice to her even if she was apart of the scheme. He was livid yet suspicious. What if she was a creep? Or a spy sent by the company? She could be an undercover scam artist who just wanted to get close to his group so she could sell their private life to the tabloids. Whoever she was, Chan didn't want her around. Fake girlfriend or not, she would be a distraction.

This is going to be fun.

Soon, the remaining members in the dorm awoke and began packing for their sudden move day. Though none of them would say it out loud, there was a small amount of excitement in all of them about moving into a new and much bigger house. Usually idol groups were forced to stay in small apartment dorms for the first few years after they debuted and to share almost everything they had. Being moved into a bigger house free of charge so early in their careers was an undeniably lucky experience. The circumstances were not so great but the fact was that moving into a bigger home would make producing much easier, as well as having privacy.

"Hyung, is it bad i’m excited to meet her?” Jeongin asked Jisung with slight hesitation in his voice. He didn't want to hate someone he hasn't met yet. Chan seemed to already have his mind set on not giving her a chance but I.N. didn't want to do that, it wasn't fair.

“Honestly? I wanna meet her too. I mean how often do we get to meet foreigners or aren't our fans, y’know? Maybe she's really cool.” Jisung replied to the younger boy as he looked up from his suitcase. He suddenly paused where he was crouched on the floor in front of his suitcase and tilted his head in wonder. “Then again, she is a girl, and she's going to be living with 9 guys she's never met before. She's probably more anxious than we are. I feel bad she-” Minho suddenly walked into the room and jisung stopped talking.

“Feel bad for her why? She's probably in on this entire arrangement. Do yourselves a favor and don't grow too attached. For all we know she could be crazy.” He grumbled as he walked into the room and flopped onto the makes bed on the bottom bunk.  

“Are you done packing, Hyung?” Jisung asked, quickly changing the subject.

“I finished last night. Is the girl going to meet us there or what?”

“I think that’s what the manager said yesterday at the meeting. Do you know where the new house is?”

“I don't know but it must be close by because JYP would want us in the area so we could attend meetings and practices. Plus, our baby.” Minho jumped on Jeongin teasingly, “still has school to finish.”

As the boys wrestled on the ground, Jisung zipped up his suitcase and stood up grabbing his backpack before walking out of the room in search of the other members.

“Yah, Han-ah!” A voice yelled. Jisung turned in the direction of his name to see Hyunjin and Chan in their room packing things into their backpacks.

“Oh, Hyung. I finished packing.”

“Well, everyone else is ready, so let's go.” Said the leader as he swung his backpack onto his shoulder.

"Are you ready for this, Hyung?” Hyunjin asked, concerned for his older member.

“I don't really have a choice to be ready or not. This is all going to happen regardless of how I feel about it, so we might as well get it all over with.” At that, he left the room together the remaining members.

 The two boys left in the room watched as he walked away. They loved their leader and wanted nothing but happiness for him. Chan always did all he could to make sure everyone was taken care of but in this moment, they felt helpless. As much as they wanted to help their leader and make him feel better, they couldn't do anything to change what was soon to come. He signed a contract. Legally, he was stuck. Period.

Welcome to the music industry.

“Lets go.”

The two balck vans carrying both the members of Stray Kids as well as their belongings drove up a small hill and onto a long driveway with a guard positioned in front of a black gate. It was clear that whatever building was behind that gate was large and very protected.

“Wow.”

“Chan-hyung?”

“What is this place?”

Without a word, the guard left his station once the van came close and flashed a light into the interior, as if searching for something. After looking at each member individually, the guard then nodded his head and went back into his station. Seconds later, the large black gate began to open. Behind, was a mansion-like home with large see-through windows. Even from the outside, it was clear that the interior of the home was just as extravagant as the exterior. The home was black and modern but large and breathtaking.There was a clear glass surrounding the upper outside of the house which was meant for a balcony. This house was amazing.

“This is our new house? This is huge!” Changbin exclaimed with an excited smile.

“This is...insane.” Felixs’ deep baritone added in disbelief.

“Took the words right out of my mouth, mate.” Chan said, a bit dazed himself

The group grabbed their things and began walking towards the front door. Some lights were on inside and a slight aroma of food wafted from inside of the home, making it clear that someone was home. Chan took a deep breath and shook his head slightly before raising a hand to ring the doorbell. Moments after the ding sounded, light footsteps were heard coming closer and closer to the door. A slight click sound and the large door began sliding open.

[dbhilluminate]

DBHI: Redemption- "The Open Door", pt. 1

ARE YOU A FAN OF DETROIT? DO YOU LIKE GAY SHIPS AND COMPLICATED, LOVEABLE BOYS?? Then please keep up with our fic, you’ll love it, I promise!

Co-authored by grayorca15

Characters: Trevor Langley, Dennis Lenore, Nick Lenore, Dahlia Fleur, Rhea Fleur, Dylan Fleur, Ethan Fleur, Isaiah Fleur (mentions of Richard Fleur, Ophelia Fleur, Hank Anderson, Vivienne Lenore-Anderson, Zach, Sarah Word Count: 7,982

No matter how far you think you've fallen, there's always time to find your way back to yourself- and if you leave yourself open to change, sometimes what you need is right through the next door.

• Archive link • Chapter Index • • Related Works • Characters •

----------

July 4th, 2041 - 5:34 PM

For all intents and purposes, it was his first time in a suit in a while. 

Having taken virtually nothing of his old life with him when Archangel brought him to Detroit, he’d had nothing but the clothes on his back, which he’d thrown away as soon as he got the chance. Understanding of why, Detective Lenore had offered up one of his older suits (among other, less frequently worn items in his wardrobe) in sympathy. Not since Boston had he been in a dress jacket, loafers, and chinos- only this time, there was no watch or tie, no phone crammed into his pocket, only the one item he typically spent his nights in the company of anyway. 

It was a good thing he and Dennis were virtually the same size, even if the former had a stockier build. 

“Kid, it ain’t Homecoming, now come on. You look fine.” 

Though his tone was one of affectionate gruffness, which he treated eighty percent of those he knew with on a daily basis, now that they had actually arrived at the time to put the hand-me-downs to use, it seemed Lenore’s generosity had been left at the curb. Considering how they had met, Trevor was happy to be counted as one of those in said majority- what side he had seen and heard about when Dennis got truly angry, he wasn’t in any hurry to experience that for himself. 

Not that having to wait a few minutes longer than anticipated would warrant a baton to the teeth. 

He flicked the light off and locked up his apartment, then followed him down the hallway, fidgeting all the way with the edges of his sleeves, trying to get the just-too-large sleeve cuffs to sit comfortably in the cuffs of the blazer. 

“It’s only a dinner, not your funeral,” Dennis scoffed, eyeing him top to bottom. “I mean- points for wanting to look nice, first time meetin’ the family and all, but you’ll be wishing you had picked somethin’ more casual before the night’s over.”

“But it is just that, the first time,” Trev pointed out as they found the central stairwell and descended. “Aren’t you supposed to- look good?”

“Looks aren’t everything,” he sighed, passing the cubicle of dormitory mailboxes at the foot of the stairs, then came to a stop. 

Uncertainly, his intended guest did the same next to him, belatedly folding his hands behind his back. Their eyes met. With his aqua blue irises, red hair and bold, expressive eyebrows, it didn’t take much for Lenore to pull off maximum exasperation with minimal effort.

“I know you spend your days shut up in here between classes. But do you think, for one night, you can try to relax? I wouldn’t bring you along if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

Trev smiled, albeit uneasily. It was a vote of confidence, however indirect, the only kind he seemed to be catching from anyone these days. Though training to become an Archangel Officer, his was an unusual circumstance, which rubbed some people the wrong way- the special privilege of shadowing active duty officers only extended to him as a formality, being a formerly active (and certified) member of BCPD’s Police force. He didn't fit the usual definition of a cadet at the academy by any measure, in fact there was no reason he really needed to. But for an institution founded only two years prior and still working to establish its own standard of ‘normalcy’, putting him through their version of the academy made logical sense, even if it labeled him an oddity. 

By that standard, Detective Dennis Lenore was just as odd, as were the rest of Zion’s residents. This was a community of oddballs, at their most fundamental.

“Well? You gonna stand there smilin’ like you’ve got gas, or is that a yes?”

Called out for daydreaming his way toward an answer, Trev blinked and cleared his throat. “Yes. S-sir.” He could handle a dinner without falling to pieces. It would hardly be the worst thing he had ever been through.

*  *  *

Traffic only delayed them so long. Even with the festivities due to begin at sundown, most of the city’s business districts were closed to observe the holiday. With that initial rush passed, the streets had cleared; the many parks and backyards of Detroit were another story. Those people out shopping had done so earlier in the day, whereas now they were enjoying the afternoon with family and friends.

But tonight they wouldn’t be staying in the city. Trevor didn’t plan on it being an overnight event, but he couldn’t account for the plans of those he hadn’t yet met. Loaded with money as the Fleurs were, their private countryside estate probably wasn’t short a guest bedroom or two; and seeing as he was dating one of said prestigious family’s daughters, Dennis likely didn’t have any qualms about staying if the evening took such a turn. Either way, Trev was perfectly capable of arranging a taxi ride back to his dorm, which wasn’t a bad idea.

The moment he sat down and buckled in, he bookmarked the service for later, but out of the corner of his eye, Dennis caught him at it.

“We haven’t even gotten goin’.”

He didn’t need to elaborate. Cheeks flushing, Trev glanced away.

The cab pulled away from the curb and merged with the flow, the automated dash giving a chime and automatically bringing up a selection of soft classical background music. Dennis banished it from existence with one swipe at the volume bar and a slight curl of his lip. 

“Sorry, I know you’re jittery, it’s just-...” he paused to clench his teeth and furrow his brow a twitch. “Why you already expecting to have to need that?”

Hands folded in his lap, knees brought together, Trev made an attempt at clearing his throat. “No- no reason, sir. I was only trying to plan ahead.”

“I already said I’d make sure you got home. Was there something else? You gotta be back sooner, or…?”

It wasn’t his tone- despite the initial gruffness, Dennis had one of those sharp yet tactful voices. Where he initially sounded irritated and gravelly he almost always followed it up with some kind of concern to take the hostile edge off. Tiresome as it was to keep up with telling which was which, at least he was consistent, definable, and not a bad guy overall. Five months after Boston, Trev was still trying to figure out how much of those qualities he had yet to embody. 

“No, sir, I was only…” Sheepishly, he swiped the open app aside and turned his attention out the window. “I should have done it before we left.”

Affecting an eye roll but no other visible annoyance, Dennis sat back in his seat, hooking an ankle over his knee in the process. Being of shorter stature, he had legroom to spare. “You’ll be fine. I’m not bringin’ you along to this shindig to be the main course.”

Shindig. The term bore looking up. Defined as a lively celebration as defined back in the 1920s, it was very retro to use in conversation. Trev immediately sank back in his seat. 

“Please tell me there isn’t dancing involved.”

“No promises.” Neither too dismissive or reassuring, Dennis raised an eyebrow, pausing to seemingly reconsider his companion’s attire once more. “You’re dressed for it if there is… but haven’t you been to a barbecue before?”

A flurry of related memories besieged Trev at the reminder. Tactfully ignoring them, he looked down at his hands. “No.”

“...Are you gonna stick with single-worded answers all night?”

“Maybe… sir.”

He had cause to. Dennis knew better than almost anyone in Zion what a mixed-up bottle of impulses Trevor Langley consisted of, none of which were his own doing. With some indeterminable exceptions, it made even the most routine small talk a chore for him; hence, why he needed so badly to get out more. Classes at the academy only kept him occupied for so long. 

Chock full of as many instabilities as any survivor of Purgatory typically bore, it wasn’t any wonder why he kept quiet to fiddle with his quarter rather than mingle with his cohort. As yet, Trev suspected Dennis was more his friend than anyone, with Vivienne Lenore a close second; but even those titles felt forced, just enough to say he wasn’t completely alone in the world, because some semblance of bonds were better than none at all.

Glancing up, Trev frowned at seeing how the dubious squint hadn’t vanished. It was still trained on him like a weapon, poised to fire. (Not the nicest example to equate it to, but for him guns were never far from his mind - for a variety of reasons.)

Trying to sideline such discouraging thoughts, he cleared his throat. “I guess… Nick is already there?”

Dennis made an affirmative hum, finally easing off on the skeptical expression a touch. “He wanted to run this fetch quest instead. I convinced him otherwise.”

Brows furrowing, Trev sat up from where he had pressed into the seat. There was no further he could get away in that direction, anyway. “Why? He wouldn’t have been a bother... if that’s what you‘re implying.”

The taller Lenore sibling’s reputation preceded him. How bothersome said brother was or wasn’t evidently didn’t factor in here, as Dennis scoffed nevertheless. “Meaning, he wouldn’t have asked you too many questions, or made you uncomfortable like I am now.”

A very perceptive response, coming from him. Trev glanced away again.

Letting it simmer a moment, Dennis explained: “Kid, it’s only because I care that I take any digs at you- not that he doesn’t care too, but anyone can see you need pryin’ to even cough up a ‘Hello’, and it isn’t Nick’s style to do that if he can see how uncomfortable you still are.”

In an ideal world, that is just the kind of person Trevor would prefer to be spending time with, if he were forced to pick between chaperones. Despite his looming stature, Nick wasn’t half as imposing as Dennis could be. Such niceties didn’t extend to both in equal measure.

“I think I’m doing okay, compared to where I was, don’t you?”

“Oh? You’re constantly wallin’ people off. Okay is a word that didn’t occur to me.”

“It hasn’t affected me that… adversely.”

“Not yet. You want to try and tell me your career won’t suffer for it in the long run?”

“All due respect, sir, I’ve already had my psych eval this week. Isn’t asking such questions now kinda defeating the point of going out to enjoy ourselves?” 

Rolling his eyes, going by the minute pause in his words, Dennis sat up and reached over to tap the frames of Langley’s glasses. “You’re still wearing these when you don’t need them. If you were actually out to forget your troubles and enjoy the night, you woulda left them at the dorm.”

Recoiling, Trev shot him a standoffish glower. The cab was too small a space for his liking all of a sudden. How Dennis could essentially take one look at him and figure all these confused signals out was even less appealing. But then, Detective Lenore was known for that; if he hadn’t been a cop, psychologist wasn’t too far off, given his upbringing.

“You don’t know that. I enjoy myself without any hints blatantly on display, sir.”

“That’s a crock of shit, and you know it,” Dennis challenged. “Shut up in a room for hours on end focused only on studyin’ isn’t healthy, Langley. You gotta get out and live a bit. Dealing with Nick taught me all about that. Grateful or not, I suppose there’ll be time enough afterward for you to thank me later.”

Shuttling itself through the traffic as smoothly as a figure skater, the taxi took them past the last few commercial blocks and into a rundown suburb sitting on the Detroit-Warren limits, a quaint neighborhood of working-class families living well off the combined metropolis to either side. The Fleurs were apparently cut from the same cloth, even if they made upwards of twenty million each year, and they weren’t averse to entertaining visitors. Said destination was still forty minutes away, going by the timer on the taxi’s dashboard: the estate on the northern shore of Lake St. Claire may as well have been another city unto itself, with how far off it seemed. 

There would be his first round of lessons in learning how to let go and just be lax for a spell. He was overcomplicating this in his own head, but if Dennis really understood anything about him, he knew just how tough a habit that would be to break. One dinner wasn’t going to miraculously change him, or so he surmised, but who knew? Maybe a stint outside of Zion would do him good. Surrounded by another crowd of near-strangers with entirely normal expectations of him could be just what the doctor ordered. 

Or it could be exactly what he didn’t need to be reminded of. This constant wallowing in between hadn’t been pleasant on the whole. Without something to sway him one way or another, how else was he going to figure out what he ultimately preferred? Dennis Lenore had had more than a few years to figure himself out, so it was easy for him to say what Trevor did or didn’t need. He had experience and perspective to call on, perks of being an older model and all.

Lucky him.

*  *  *

Sitting atop a hill on a thousand acres of southeastern Michigan woodland, with its southernmost edge reaching right down to the beach, the mansion itself wasn’t visible from the road. After being buzzed through the front gate it was still a two minute journey up the cobblestone driveway. Framed by thick-trunked oak trees, rectangular hedges and multicolored flowerbeds, the ornate, ivory structure was eventually revealed, facing an adjacent parking garage no less grand and steepled. 

The bay doors of the garage stood open, lights on, spotlighting the four vintage automobiles neatly lined up within. The Detroit taxi idling looked so boxy and very not-sleek compared to the likes of all American muscle- a black 1969 Ford Mustang, a pearlescent yellow 2001 C5 Z06 Chevy Corvette, a purple and black 1970 Plymouth Fury, and a cherry red 1968 Dodge Charger had been pulled out and put on display for guests to admire. 

They seemed right at home next to the lavish mansion, which vaguely resembled a state capitol building or a downsized museum without its signature dome. East and west wings stretched open to either side at a one-hundred and thirty-degree angle, banister flags draped from every windowsill. Footpaths wound off to snake around the estate, trailing off into various gardens and parts of the woods, leading to other much smaller structures and cabanas spread across the property. 

The main entrance was a hike at least twenty steps high to a landing midway up, then to a summit guarded by two pedestals framed by half a dozen stone vases full of flowers. It was in peak summertime bloom, greenery everywhere and no gray urban confines in sight, besides the cars on display. The air was thick with the smell of them mixed with fresh cut grass after a cleansing rain, but one whiff confirmed there was more on the wind tonight than natural aromas.  There was also the smoky, husky smell of meat simmering on a grill. 

As soon as the cab door slid open, Trev hesitated to step out. The last time he had cause to smell burning anything was back in Boston. 

-the horrifying sight of every other building along the avenue aflame, screams emanating from within, no fire department on its way to save the day, but all he could do was run-

“Kid, move.”

One little prodding nudge at his shoulder drew a flinch out of him, and he hurriedly stepped out of the cab in the intended direction while avoiding meeting Dennis’ eyes.

“What’s the matter? You look like…” Circling to look at him, Lenore trailed off. He knew the rabbit-eyed expression and what it signified. Reading the muted silence as what it was, he patted Trev’s shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay. I’ll make the introductions, all right?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbled half-heartedly. Even if Dennis was used to it to the point he didn’t care either way, adding the honorific always served to keep authority figures mollified. He was more of a guide than a friend, so it wasn’t unreasonable - the first time they met, he’d promptly knocked Trevor’s lights out; for his own good, of course. Kind of like now- dragging him along to this get-together, never minding the reluctance or snippiness; it was for his own good. 

He was never violent or forceful without reason; dealing with his so-called brother, who was described by most to be as skittish as a deer caught in headlights, had helped him hone it. And now here was Trevor, testing him in all sorts of ways similar yet unfamiliar. As mentor and understudy, they fit together fantastically.

Trekking up the steps, he fell in behind and beside the off-duty detective, taking a second to appreciate his more casual wear of jeans, sneakers, and a hoodie. It made the burgundy suit and loafers feel even more unnecessary, even if it made him look classier and more put-together on the outside, despite the mess inside.

The person to answer the door before Dennis had even lifted his finger from the buzzer didn’t read much into it either way. He was simply happy to see them, as evidenced by the unabashed group hug he greeted both of them with, knocking Trevor’s glasses askew. 

“H-hi, Dr. Lenore,” he stammered, managing to duck out from under his arm first

“Oh, come on, Trev. Not you, too.” Unwinding one long arm to recapture the new visitor, he frowned as Langley stepped aside and out of range. Nicholas Lenore wasn’t half as formal as his name would suggest, though part of that was his looks, which were all gangly and sloped in ways Dennis’ weren’t. The other half of the reasoning was the insistence that followed. “You can call me Nick, same as everyone else, remember?”

Though he was one of Zion’s best-qualified physicians, when he wasn’t tending to a patient his behavior was more akin to that of an excitable ten-year-old boy: all optimistic and well meaning, with no attitude to spoil it. Incongruous didn’t begin to describe him as a whole.

“I did. I-I just…” Not quite sure if he should finish that thought, Trevor blinked and shifted his gaze aside. “You startled us, is all.”

“Speak for yourself, Langley,” Dennis muttered, face half-squashed, still pinned against the other’s jacket. “I’m used to this sorta thing.”

“I didn’t mean to, sorry.” Nick apologized the moment he remembered, let go of his brother and steered them inside to close the door. “It’s good to see you both. Everyone else is busy talking or cooking, so I thought I’d make myself useful and play doorman for a bit.”

“Nice of you,” Dennis commented airily as he rolled his shoulder and stretched it. “God- you really need a warning label for those damn hugs, though. All these years, you think I’d have realized it sooner and slapped one on the back of your head.”

Assuming he didn’t need a ladder to reach it.

“No I don’t, I’m careful every time!”

“Sure, careful not to completely and permanently dent someone.”

Leaving them to their banter for a moment, Trev stole a look around the foyer. A big, spectacular ballroom painted in soft browns and shades of ivory, red, and gold, housed a golden grand chandelier and a mosaic marble floor which stretched the length of the space several hundred feet across the room to the foot of a centralized staircase leading up to the second-floor wings. To the left, halfway into the room, sat a sharp black grand piano beside a few free-standing planters filled with flowers and creeping ferns on either side, and a chaise lounge to the left of it. A few oil portraits hung on the front and sidewalls, and at the top of the stairs, assumed commissioned works so lifelike he could tell who the people featured were without introductions being needed. Wherever the flesh-and-blood Fleurs presently were, they weren’t within sight. 

Or so he thought. 

Movement caught his eye. The door was so far away, Trevor almost missed it, as Nick and Dennis seemed to have- but two doors down from the top of the staircase to the right, a figure reached out through the illuminated cracked door and quietly pulled it shut; instead of a face, all he glimpsed was a tattooed wrist. It appeared someone else here was as disinterested in the event as he was. Not given free reign to wander just yet, he set curiosity aside and drifted after his escorts.

“-favor, and don’t go out of your way to confuse him, got it?” Dennis scolded, around the same time Trevor opted to start listening again. It went without saying who the ‘him’ in the statement was.

“Confuse, how?” Confirming the assumption, Nick tossed him a very overt glance. He always looked so unintentionally aloof, with those mismatched green-brown eyes, pitchy voice, and slightly-knotted chestnut hair. “I don’t do it on purpose… and Trevor’s smart enough to figure it out if in the event I do.”

“Sure, I know lots of words with three syllables, minimum,” Trev played along, shrugging with a self-deprecating smile. Even if their argument wasn’t exactly serious, it would only help to clarify what his boundaries and possible triggers were. “But it’s not that kind of confused he’s talking about, Doctor.”

“Oh, right.” Nick only responded with an absent blink. Physicians were inherently prone to speaking with a certain over-eloquence, using big words without meaning to, making those around them feel either dumbed down or alienated or both. Being forever mindful he wasn’t stepping on toes or offending anyone (and constantly worrying for the welfare of those around him), Nick stopped them from proceeding on through to the dining room to offer a last bit of encouragement. 

“Well, that said- if you feel too bothered by any of this, let us know. No one expects you to stay if you don’t want to.”

Trev nodded. He shouldn’t need this much coaching to make a few simple meetings, but it was always better to take time for a little extra prep work, lest something short circuit.

——

“He doesn’t look like an android, though...”

“Yeah, well, he wouldn’t, right? The whole point is, you can’t know just from looking at someone.”

“But he’s studying at Archangel? Humans don’t enroll there, but if they ever did, I’d-”

“Boys, please. You’ve barely said hello back and now you’re on to this. Give him some breathing room.”

Trev stood back from the dining table-turned-buffet and glanced over the edge of his drink in silent gratitude as Dennis ran interference, shepherding the gawkers out of his presence. The youngest members of the Fleur clan, nine-year-old Ethan and seven-year-old Isaiah, weren’t so shy as to resist bombarding him with questions the moment their elders looked in the other direction. It wasn’t that they meant any harm- Trev couldn’t fault them for wanting to get close and see for themselves,  being the excitable, impressionable boys they were, but Ethan’s parting remark still stung more than he wanted to admit. 

“He looks just like Connor, too. I told you!”

“Ethan!” Dahlia squatted down and popped the boy softly on the behind as she shooed them away, reminding them that they ‘knew better’ than to say such things. While most androids had been created to look the same, the Fleurs had all been raised (since her adoption into the family) to recognize each as an individual, and not treat them as duplicates. This was easier done in the cases of Nick, Dennis, and Dahlia, who looked nothing like their default models. 

That in mind, Trev reminded himself it wasn’t the worst reveal he had ever suffered. Few things could measure up to Nicodemus shattering the human veneer Cyberlife had so painstakingly applied. Being compared to the most infamous of the RK800s was a pinprick compared to that sledgehammer.

With the exception of the two boys, the rest of the clan was proving genial enough. For being multimillionaire moguls of the music industry (responsible for finding at least ten of the current top forty artists of the past five years), they dressed almost demurely for the occasion. Richard Fleur was at least six feet of middle-aged stoic, unreserved Britishness, more personable and less stern than expected but certainly from high societal stock. His wife, Ophelia, was altogether different his polar opposite both in appearance and respective origin of South Africa. Poised and reserved in her enthusiasm for conversation, she exuded a more regal presence than her husband. His posh drawl paired nicely with her distinctive Johannesburg dialect.

Trev took a minute sip of his drink, noting neither of them had worn suits or evening gowns, but kept the observation to himself as he sat down.

“I really overdressed, didn’t I?”

“Just a little…” A flinching nod of agreement crinkled Dahlia’s nose, yet she bore a small smile in sympathy as she flipped the hem of her maxi dress out from between the heel of her foot and the heel of her shoes. 

“But it’s what you wanted, I figured better to let you have it,” Dennis explained as she moved to lean down and greet him with a kiss, then pulled out the seat to her left; his lingering smirk wasn’t sympathetic or mocking, just the result of how preoccupied he always tended to get in her presence (the joke being, making sure he wasn’t stepped on). “It’s closer to what you’re used to wearing anyway, right? Back in- the old days?”

Now there was an inappropriately appropriate way of putting it.

“Sure, similar…” Trev hated how such an otherwise innocent question called up so many mixed feelings. Out of nervous habit, he went for another sip so small he may as well have only wet his lips. Dennis knew better than to ask, but to avoid every little uncomfortable conversation would defeat the purpose of being there. Langley blinked back the nervousness as best he could and shrugged, hoping it came across as dismissive. “If anything, I feel more under-dressed in class. I don’t know if I’d call cadet duds a uniform, but…”

It seemed he wasn’t the only one who had a hard time disconnecting from his work. To his right, Nick had taken a moment to do some follow-up work on a tablet held in one splayed hand, but picked the conversation back up where the others failed to. “Zach hated cadet gear, too. It was too plain. We used to have to wear suits every day, company mandate.”

“Yeah, but after the revolution…? Good luck getting him to let go of it,” Dennis added, with some wry fondness. “Like a kid carryin’ around their favorite blanket- that jacket was ready to fall apart at the seams by the time Sarah peeled it off.”

After a couple years of continuous use? Trev declined to ask and swirled the contents of his glass in a gentle counterclockwise circle, knowing it was probably just exaggeration for the sake of story. 

“I don’t miss it that much. And most of the- time I was in basic patrol garb, anyway. Not like-…” Even as he veered off from saying his name, his glass-holding hand shook. As he set it down, he reached for the nearest napkin to wipe the sweat off his palm- water from the glass, nothing he actually sweated out.

Dennis’ casual smirk melted off as he watched him fidget. He knew without being told who Trev was thinking of. “You’ll get used to it. You’ve been enrolled for what, a couple months?”

“Basically.” Trev sat back in his chair so as to not be pinned between Dahlia and Nick’s curiosity. “I mean- there’s not much I don’t already know, but Detroit’s not quite on the same level Boston is with… statistics. Criminal types here don’t seem to be given to the same pursuits.”

“Has Zion treated you well, at least..?” Dahlia’s question was genuine, but naïve in the way anyone who didn’t know him would be. She had only ever met him after Boston, or Purgatory as it had been temporarily known, was brought under control. Zion was paradise compared to what he had seen there, even with its own slew of district-specific issues. Unique to him was the fact it was the best possible place he could be- everyday discrepancies notwithstanding.

“So far, yes. No one… has given me too much trouble.” None that they didn’t mean to give, anyway. Thinking twice of how that probably sounded, he tried for a mollifying smile. “The folks at the academy are agreeable enough. They’ve probably laid off the hazing because they’re not sure how I’ll take it.”

Because instabilities had to be good for something.

Dennis hummed a not-so-convinced affirmative. “Sure. That’s Langley-speak for ‘not yet, they haven’t’. Even I went through a bit of fine tuning there, Trevor. No special treatment when it comes to who gets to be the butt of a prank.”

He sounded so genial about it, Trev was inclined to doubt the claim’s validity; if it was true, Lenore was doing an admirable job of underselling his outrage. “No? What’d they end up doing to you, then?”

“Filled my locker with maple leaves.” At the two, not quite three, disbelieving glances this answer earned him, Dennis shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it was supposed to make me feel at home. Montreal was that, for about a decade.”

“Sounds more like blatant stereotyping… you aren’t Canadian.”

Met with a deadpan sidelong look, Dennis scoffed. “Pft. You think it mattered to them at the time, Langley? If it did that’d defeat the whole point of a prank.”

Trev acknowledged it with a nod and another sip of his drink, realizing how painfully literal his thought processes could sometimes be. The blue substance didn’t have much flavor aside from a refreshing coolness as it went down. If he ignored what it was, it didn’t look like he was drinking antifreeze.

Music, laughter, and voices drifted in from the open patio doors. Adjacent to the dining room was the gathering space where most of the estate’s visitors had congregated, Viv and Hank among them. There was where the smells of grilling and sizzling were most prominent. At a guess the gathering was approximately three-quarters humans to one-fourth androids; and at the moment, it seemed all those confirmed as such were seated at this table. Lopping himself in under that category, Trev pursed his lips and set the glass down once again. The little daily reminders of his old life were everywhere he looked, and he didn’t need them as much as he did. A couple months in protective custody under observation hadn’t assuaged them- if anything he missed the certainty, false as it was. Now he had nothing but uncertainty, and the constant wear of it was chafing something fierce.

Aaaand five bucks says Nick is staring so hard, he’s trying to burn holes in the side of my head.

As he glanced aside he caught just the barest hint of motion from the taller android, whose focus immediately shifted back to the tablet. Trev knew an aborted look when he saw one, enhanced reaction times or not.

“What about that, Dahlia?” he asked, trying again for impartial dialogue in the face of all his skittishness. “Is your family the wild type, or is that just the two boys?”

“Three,” she corrected with a small hint of a smile and a quiet exhale through her nose. “You’ll have to watch out for Dylan, too, if he ever comes out of his studio...” 

The sighing and eye-rolling was contagious- not so much uttered in distaste as much as in disappointment. Nick shrunk down in his seat a hair at the mention of the boy’s name, but perked up as Rhea (having just come in from the patio) placed an understanding hand on his shoulder. 

“I doubt we’ll see him today, it’s been a long time since he’s shown his face at any social gatherings.”

“Then what do you call him picking on us?” Nick whined as she sat down beside him and gave his hand a squeeze.

“Jealousy,” she replied with a quiet smile. “He had my full attention before you came along.”

Trev looked from one pair to the other and considered his newfound stance between them. He deduced out the whys in short order, decidedly ignoring the outdated examples in his own head claiming to know what it was to have siblings. He glanced back toward the crowded patio as he considered this new information. So he wasn’t the only one present who had an aversion to crowds. But didn’t groups make the most rewarding prank targets? To incite the most amount of mayhem in the least amount of time?

“Well, jealous or no, he can keep to himself if it so suits him. I’m not out to steal any of his remaining siblings away.”

Dennis scoffed, but it was half a laugh. “Don’t assume that means you’re safe. Any reason to hit you with inanimate objects is a good one,” he explained, presumably recalling the few times he’d been assaulted with nerf darts and paintballs the very moment he’d walked through the door. 

“Isaiah told me about this time they folded enough paper airplanes to launch off an aircraft carrier and take over Taiwan. Once the snow went away, Ethan wanted to do his homework outside, but after giving Izzie enough grief they decided he wouldn’t be able to finish it in peace- whatever window he sat under, at least three found their way into his lap.”

How dastardly. 

Trev took another not-sip with only the tiniest of eye rolls. Nonchalance should have been his reaction of choice from the start. “He sounds very… conniving.”

“Impish is a better word for it.”

“A conniving imp, then. One quality serves to define the other.”

It certainly explained the closing door, and if that was the bare minimum of rebelliousness they could expect to see tonight, that was more than tolerable.

“So… if he’s a no-show, when are you gonna put the nerves aside and go mingle?” Dennis propped an elbow up on the table as he nodded toward the patio and leaned a cheek against his curled fist. “You can’t nurse one drink all evening.”

Watch me. 

Meeting his arched eyebrow with one of his own, Trev went for the next question on the proverbial checklist. “When did you all meet? I mean, I know that’s a lot of origin stories, but where did it start?”

“When Dahlia broadsided me with a door,” he recalled without reservation, to her complete and utter mortification. “I deserved it, being the stoolie dumbass standing where I was.”

The redhead immediately flushed bright red and buried her face in Dennis’ shoulder with an embarrassed laugh. “It was an accident! I didn’t expect you to be standing there…” 

And so went their storytelling, fondly recounting how one chance run-in at the Motown Lounge led to this happy, steady state of affairs for them. Past a certain point Trev only listened half heartedly, their enthusiasm just a little too much for him to stomach. 

New noise caught his hypersensitive ear again from atop the stairs- as the door creaked open, a shadowy figure moved from the studio two doors down the hall and shut it behind him. The only one who seemed to notice aside from Trevor was Dennis, blue eyes darting in the direction of the click some four hundred feet, one floor and a few rooms across the mansion, before looking back at Dahlia.

As both of them fell quiet and no one opted to keep up that line of thought, Nick sighed and put the tablet down, circling back to the elephant still in the room. Perhaps he had noticed after all. 

“He doesn’t need to keep acting all jealous. We’re easy enough to get along with, and his paintings are nice.”

“Oh? You been spyin’ on him?” Dennis teased, even as Trev frowned and raised his eyeline to the impassive ceiling. “You’ve spent a lot of hours with your back turned at that piano. Risky business.”

Nick shook his head, failing to see the humor in such a comment, too caught up worrying over what could be done to ingratiate themselves. He didn’t cope very well with thoughts of being at odds with anybody: family, friend, and certainly not foe. No wonder he had stayed as far away from Boston as physically possible.

Trev traced a fingertip over the rim of the glass in contemplative gesture. Apparently the missing link fancies themselves a painter. The minute beads of sweat, smeared and not, stood out like little crystalline glints of ice. Chilled thirium wasn’t meant to grow warm any more than fidgety Dr. Lenore had business in a city under siege.

“Not so risky- it sounds like they’re both of the artistic persuasion… just different instruments.” Hooking a fingernail on the rim, he pressed and noted how it didn’t bend back, then rolled his eyes. The urge to self-pity out loud hit hard and he went for a small dose of it.

“But I don’t know him, hardly better than I know any of you. Must be nice to hold such… easy company.”

Rhea had had her eye on Trev from the moment she walked into the room. All of the nuances in his body language -the subtle fidgeting, the way he averted his eyes, hiding behind the frames, and kept his jaw tight with lips thinly drawn, the crease in his forehead from pressed brows- and the way he avoided talking about himself by asking questions just to divert the topic, were enough to express to most that he was visibly uncomfortable. But being the observant and experienced counselor she was, she could probably tell this was more than just surface tension. 

“It comes in time with conscious effort,” she offered with a sympathetic smile, stealing a glance aside to Nick and lifting a hand to thread into his hair and scratch at the back of his head. “I had to really fight for this one’s attention… didn’t want anything much to do with me when we first met.”

“Hey! That’s not true!” he protested with a huff, Rhea’s head rolling back with a smile and focusing her gaze on the ceiling momentarily. When she didn’t immediately refute him, he uncertainly amended, “I was just… nervous.”

“So nervous you turned me down every opportunity you were given, even when things were still platonic,” she teased with a pop of her brows and a smirk. “But… the point is this.” Rhea focused her honey brown eyes on Trev across the table. “Familiarity is cultivated- we didn’t click the moment we met. It might look easy now, but we had a rough start getting here. So give yourself time, and leave the door open- you’ll find that easy company soon enough.” 

She meant well, saying such things. Trev would have liked to listen and believe it in equal measure, but even the concept of basic familiarity didn’t really apply. It wasn’t a straight line between points. It was a snaking twisting route that doubled back on itself and wound around in ways these four had no conceivable idea of (or so he thought). None of them could know, was the worst part.

“Sure.” Trev glanced sidelong toward the patio, leaving his response as one clipped word. The music drifting in was an assortment of classic rock that he could kill a few seconds trying to put a name with the lyrics with.

Dennis gave a hmph of agreement, counterpointing her advice nicely. “You wouldn’t be the first one who took his time about it, kid. But you know you’ve got friends here, no matter what the academy throws at you, right?”

As close as they could be, anyway.

Pegging the musician as the late Bruce Springsteen, Trev bit the inside of one cheek. A bit of insight wasn’t horrible to hear, but if this was the part where he thought laying it on thick was a good idea, Lenore could drop it. This wasn’t meant to be an interrogation posing as small talk.

“The academy hasn’t been so bad compared to… this.” He gestured vaguely at their surroundings, then reached for the glass again as the hurt, defensive expressions painted their faces one by one. Once it was empty, he could politely excuse himself for a refill. 

“This just isn’t my kind of familiar. Here is-… there aren’t-…” The thought fizzled into nothing as he drummed his fingers on the tabletop, and he muttered his last thought under his breath, useless as it was considering these were androids listening to him. “Bugger it. You have your normal and I have mine.”

Dennis knocked a foot against the leg of his chair. “Hey. Don’t get all sour on us now. We’re only trying to help, not bust your balls.”

Trev drained what was left of the blue substance and breathed out through his nose to cover the loud swallow. “I appreciate the disclaimer. Really. But I seem to have run out of refreshments, so if it’s all the same, I'll help myself to another.”

Even that much called up an unpleasant phantom of a memory.

-drinks with the squad after the successful closure of a half dozen interlinked cases, narcotics off the streets, justice for the dead almost a gimme- 

He scooted his chair back out of the focal point between the two couples, and instantly felt less claustrophobic for it. Trev started to move away from the table but reached back and grabbed the glass he’d almost forgotten, decidedly avoiding any of their eyes and ignoring whatever protests they tried to voice.

Not even five steps out of the dining room on his way to the kitchen, a foam dart with a rubber tip pelted him in the side of the head. The flinch it drew brought him to a temporary stop. From behind a potted plant near the grand piano to his left, Ethan giggled and sprinted across the room and up the stairs, darting down the west wing, presumably toward his bedroom, before Trev could retaliate. The bright orange-yellow nerf pistol in his hand instantly marked him as the culprit. Compared to the last bullet that had hit him, this was no great insult to suffer; it was tolerable next to the nitpicking, well-meaning offers of help he was being pincered between just a minute earlier.

Trev stopped to pick up the toy dart and dropped it into the empty glass to set both items aside on an end table, then looked up at the steps and all the wings they could lead to. It was a tempting place to get lost- he could wander the halls for a spell, see what there was to behold, maybe glimpse some of that art Nick mentioned. If Ethan Fleur wanted to take repeated potshots at him only to scurry off, at least his awkward presence would provide amusement for somebody’s sake. Better that than to be put on the spot and start confronting the first mixed-up impulses about himself amidst the company of an impromptu therapy group. That was the kind of soap opera tripe irate inner monologues were better suited to.

‘Help’. They can help me. What do they know? It’s all just conjecture and secondhand accounts. None of them were there, they couldn’t know what it was like before, they don’t know what it’s like now. They shouldn’t bother themselves with trying to understand. I’m not broke, I’m just - resetting.

Even thinking it made his insides churn. Knowing now that it wasn’t anything like indigestion or an empty gut causing such sensations, it only served to make him walk faster, just to get moving and try to forget again.

His once-clear HUD filled with a few cursory warnings, reacting in time with the pique in stress, but he blinked and shook his head once to abolish them. Trev mounted the stairs in several precise steps, steadfastly marching up to the next landing with intent. So what if this area wasn’t for guests to wander off to? It ‘s not like he was planning on swiping anything. He was a cop in a past life, and that wasn’t just hyperbole or metaphorical comparisons at work. He wasn’t some side-show company project, he didn’t need to be set straight simply for having been shown different; he just had to deal, but he would do so at his own pace. He didn’t need any follow-along lessons to help the transition, he only needed space- closed, simple, quiet space, without anyone in it.

“Oh, yes, gorgeous little android-centric district you have going on here. Me? You say I need answers to my jacked-up life? ‘No worries! Welcome to Zion. We’ve got more than enough lived-in personalities offering sage, tried-and-true advice to help you out. Just gotta give us a chance’.” Like a tacky sales pitch at a used car lot. Wasn’t what I was already doing called living? In some form, if not how they knew it? Know it? I wasn’t bunking in any fancy mansion nibbling on crepes while the rest of the world tried to sort out its own problems because machines had to go and get all uppity over not being allowed their full potential. Yeah, well, what good does potential do you when you don’t even know it’s a… thing?

Walking on autopilot, without necessarily looking where he was going, Trev only slowed down at the top of the staircase to turn the corner to the east wing. The cracked marble columns and wood-paneled walls overlooked a tasteful beige runner on the same mosaic tiled floor, accented only by a few more ferns on pedestals standing sentry outside of closed bedroom doors. Windows lined the furthest wall, opening up to the greenhouse at the mansion’s back. 

But he paid all of it no mind for longer than a fraction of a second, too taken aback by the painted likeness of Dahlia Fleur looking down on him from his left, just outside the curiously open door. The dimensions of the canvas scrawled across his eyes on automatic- rendered in traditional oil pigments, whomever had captured her likeness didn’t simply copy it. The brush strokes, invisible to human eyes, struck him as even and smooth, with no unsightly pause marks or remnants of gopey residue. Her freckled skin was only slightly bronzed for effect, complementing the cool background and the emerald green gown she wore. Gazing sidelong over her bare shoulder, expression sedate yet slightly coy, fingers lifted to rest on her chin as if poised in thought, her lengthy crimson locks of hair had been loosed from whatever binds that once might have held them back.

It was quite the exquisite portrait for what most human owners might have only seen, at one time, as a serving classic domestic android.

Staring at her perhaps a bit too long, Trev didn’t see the rubber band before it bounced off his temple, nor the shadow just out of the corner of his vision that had sent it flailing his way. 

Speak the devil’s name, and he shall appear.

“Hey, wiseguy- quit eyeballin’ my sister.”

[wistfulcynic]

Their Way By Moonlight: In The Aftermath (Chapter 3)

a/n: I don't think I’ve ever been screamed at so much as I have over the ending of the last chapter. I wish I could apologise, but I’m not sorry. I delight in your agony, in fact. Bwah hah hah. 

It doesn’t let up much either, I fear. This one is definitely going to be angsty. Also mysterious, and I hope I can keep track of all the threads of it. Enjoy, and please keep your questions and theories about the curse coming! 

(This chapter contains allusions to a non-consensual relationship, due to the circumstances of the curse. If this is triggering for you please proceed with caution!)

Summary: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time the Saviour is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from her son and anyone else who might help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Hook are soulmates, working together within their shared dreams to find a way to break the curse and free everyone from the clutches of evil yet again. (Alternate 3B, set in the What Dreams May Come universe)

Rating: A hard M (and earning it in this chapter!)

Tagging: @teamhook @wellhellotragic @rouhn @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree @let-it-raines @bonbonpirate @thejollyroger-writer

Anyone wishing to be added to or dropped from this tag list, please let me know!

Read it on AO3

In The Aftermath: 

Killian Jones, over the course of his long, long life, had experienced many things he wished he could forget. At times he felt steeped in bloodshed, in the violence and cruelty that had defined him for centuries, both as perpetrator and victim. He had been inches from death more times than he could count, had been stabbed and shot and beaten, and wielded as a weapon by those even more villainous than he. Yet the memory that haunted his dreams more than any other was not of battles or murder or treachery, it was of the icy, claw-like hand of Rumplestiltskin as it plunged into his chest and gripped his heart, threatening to tear out what he had no right to touch. There were still nights when he jerked awake in a cold sweat, breaking free from dreams in which the crocodile had finished the job, had ripped his heart from his chest and crushed the life from it. 

Watching Emma introduce Walsh as her husband, Killian sincerely wished he had. All the torments he had suffered at that demon’s hands, or those of Pan, or Cora, or any number of others over the long tread of the centuries, not one of them matched this, the sensation of his still-beating heart torn from him not by his most hated enemy but by the woman he loved. 

It’s the curse, he reminded himself, forcing the reminder through the red haze of hatred and fury swimming before his eyes. Only the curse. It’s not real. 

Which did nothing to alter the hideous reality of Emma standing before him, smiling into the eyes of the creature responsible for their current miserable circumstances. The hideous reality that he had no power to stop her, to change this. Not here. Not yet. 

And so Killian did what he had always done when he found himself overpowered, outmatched, backed into an impossible corner. He survived. He forced down his pain, buried it as deep as it would go and prepared himself for action. 

It was a measure of how far he had already travelled down the path away from villainy that this action did not take the form of ripping Walsh apart, and damn the consequences. Such impulses, as temporarily satisfying as they may be, had never ended well for him in the past. The bigger picture, he reminded himself. You have a plan. Stick to the bloody plan. 

Not to mention that this realm tended to frown on violent homicide. Another thing that had taken some getting used to.

So he arranged his face into a polite smile, grateful for the hours of practice that helped it slide naturally into place, nodded at this man who had stolen so much from him, shook hands and took his leave. The moment his back was turned to them the mask fell from his face, replaced by a fearsome determination. “Henry!” he called.

The boy turned, his cheerful smile fading to nothing as he took in Killian’s thunderous expression and the straining tension in his posture. 

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s your mother,” Killian snarled, no longer able to keep the rage from his voice. “She’s married to Walsh.”

“What?” Henry stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk and Killian hustled him along with a hand on his shoulder. “But how?”

“It’s the curse, of course. Someone has a bloody vicious sense of humour.”

“Does he know? I mean, does he have his memories?”

“I’m not sure. No, lad, don’t look!” Henry turned his head back, looking chastened. Killian put his arm around the boy’s shoulders, partly in comfort, partly to ensure he walked quickly. “We mustn’t attract attention,” he said. “What we need is to get back to the shop and reconnoiter. Marshal our resources and make a plan. Come, hurry now.” 

Arriving back at their new residence they collapsed on the sofa and sat in silence, lost in thought as the minutes ticked by. Finally Henry spoke. 

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” replied Killian, feeling frustrated and useless. “I don’t know that there’s anything we really can do, other than stick to the plan. Though it’ll be a damn sight more difficult now to pull it off.”

Henry lapsed into silence again, but his face wore the expression it got when he was thinking hard. “We need to find out how much she thinks she loves him,” he declared finally. “I think that might tell us how strong the curse is.” 

“What do you mean, lad?”

“Well, I’m spitballing a bit here, but I think we might be able to gauge the strength of the curse based on how strong the cursed relationships are.”

Killian considered that, and nodded. “All right, I’m following so far, tell me more.” 

“Okay, so like under the first curse, my granddad was married to Kathryn, but he didn’t really love her. He thought he had memories of loving her, but his real feelings were for my grandma.”

“Yes, but wasn’t that because David was in a coma and wasn’t given his cursed memories until he awoke and Regina was able to— to download them?” Killian struggled to remember what Emma had told him of the circumstances under the first curse. “So they would naturally be weaker than memories that had been created by the curse, when it began?”

“Maybe, but I think it’s because Mom was already in Storybrooke, already weakening the curse. It wasn’t just my grandparents, everything started to change when she got here. I think if she isn’t certain of her cursed feelings for Walsh then it may be a sign that this curse is weakening. We need to know that. We need to… to test the limits of her cursed feelings. To test them against her real feelings.” He gave Killian a sidelong glance, reluctant to meet his eyes. “If you see what I mean.”

“Aye. You’re saying that what I have to do is seduce a married woman.”

“Er— yeah. I guess.”

“Well, it’s not as though I’ve never done that before.” Killian sighed and ran his hand over his face and through his hair, forgetting for a moment who he was speaking with. “Though I confess I feel rather less enthusiasm for the venture than I once did. Not to mention that no version of Emma, cursed or not, is going to be terribly receptive to the idea of adultery.” 

Henry snorted a small laugh, and Killian looked at him sharply, feeling a twinge of guilt. He should definitely not be speaking so frankly of such things in front of the boy. Henry was so precocious that Killian sometimes forgot he was only thirteen. “What, lad?”

“It’s just ironic.” Henry shrugged. “You and Mom committing adultery with each other.” 

‘Indeed, though I fail to see any humour in the situation.” 

“Gallows humour, isn’t that what they call it?” 

“Ah, but when you have actually stood on a gallows with the noose around your neck, even that humour doesn’t inspire much of a laugh.” 

“Wait, you were hung?” Henry’s eyes widened in fascination. 

“Hanged, lad, and aye very nearly.” 

“Wow, okay you have got to tell me that story!”

Killian found himself smiling, cheered as he always was by Henry’s bright enthusiasm. Although he greatly enjoyed entertaining the boy with tales from his pirating days, heavily sanitised of course, the case of his near hanging was one that would not easily be scrubbed up for teenage consumption. “Perhaps later,” he said vaguely. “For now I believe we have established our plan for the moment, distasteful as it may be, and there is still rather a lot of work to be getting on with in the shop.”

“I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,” grumbled Henry. 

“No such luck, my boy.” Killian clapped him on the shoulder, forcing cheer he did not feel into his voice. “Look lively, now! We have bookshelves to arrange!” 

That evening Killian took his time falling asleep, both because his mind was too agitiated for easy slumber and because he knew Emma would be waiting for him in the dream, and he feared what he might do when he saw her. Fury still simmered like a noxious potion in his gut, and anger management had never been his forte. 

He indulged in a long shower then spent nearly two hours attempting to read, forcing his attention to remain on the pages though the words danced before his eyes and refused to be absorbed by his brain. Gradually, despite his determined efforts, his body relaxed and his eyes drifted shut and he is in their bedroom, there among the familiar beloved surroundings as though nothing has changed, as though he could stand here assailed by memories of all the times they have made love in that bed and not feel the wrenching pain of all that has been taken from him. Emma is perched on the edge of the bed, waiting, looking apprehensive. With a snarl and a wave of his hand, Killian tears them away, brings them to the living area of his new abode, an acceptably neutral venue although its edges and corners are indistinct, his memory of the place too inexact to replicate it precisely. They are firmly clothed, clad in their typical styles. They need to talk, and he does not wish to attempt conversation whilst distracted by her naked form.   

She sits beside him on the couch and says nothing, waiting for him to speak. 

“How?” he says after a long silence, his voice an agonised croak. “How can it be him? How can he be here? I thought we’d dealt with him!”

“He did say he wasn’t easy to get rid of.” 

“Emma, you pushed him off the bloody roof! He turned to dust!” 

“Maybe that doesn’t destroy them, it didn’t in the dream.” 

“Flying bloody monkeys, of all the demonic things! And now you’re married to one!”

“Curse married!” she cries, her careful composure finally breaking. “It’s not real, Killian, you know it isn’t!”

“It’s real enough when you’re living with the bastard,” he snarls, “when you believe he’s your husband.” 

“Babe, I’m—” 

He winces as the endearment he secretly adores pierces his heart. “Don’t call me that!” His voice breaks. “That’s what you called him.”

She slides closer to him, reaches for his hand. He lets her take it, though her touch burns him. “Killian, my love, my soulmate, the only man in my heart,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry, but I tried to tell you. You had to have suspected this.” 

“Aye,” he says bitterly, “I suspected you may be— involved with someone under the curse, but I thought it would be Baelfire! He at least loved you once. He at least is a man. The idea of that heartless monster in your bed, touching you, touching my—”

“Shhhh,” she soothes. “Don’t think about it.” 

“How the bloody hell can you possibly expect me not to think about it!”

“I just don’t want you to dwell on it!” she says, irritation creeping into her tone, her own anger and frustration and guilt seeping through. “You know how you get when you brood. It just makes your darkness harder to fight, and I need you to stay in the light, Killian. For me and for Henry, and for yourself. We have to stick together, fight this together. But we can’t fight anything if you hold on to anger. Believe me when I say I hate this situation as much as you do— more, even, as I’m the one who actually has to live it— but we can’t stop it unless we stay strong, and stay together.”

He knows she is right, and though it does nothing to lessen his fury he is able to push it down again, and to take her in his arms. She sighs in relief, snuggling close. “I’m sorry, Emma,” he whispers. “I promised not to falter, and at the first challenge here I am, faltering.”

“It’s not faltering, you have a right to be angry. I’m freaking furious. I hate being stuck in this and I hate how much it’s hurting you.” 

They sit wrapped around each other for a long time as Killian debates whether to ask the question he needs an answer to, not wanting to disturb their pleasant moment but knowing he has to ask. He swallows hard, loathing the words as he forces them from his throat. “Do you love him?”

She buries her face deeper into his neck and he can feel tears leaking from her eyes. “I— I think so. I’m so sorry.” 

Even though he knows they are speaking of her cursed self, even though he knows none of this is her fault, he can’t stop the fury rising again, this time woven through with ugly streaks of jealousy. 

He clenches his fist, sending the dream whirling around them and they are back in their bedroom, naked, and she is handcuffed to the wrought iron headboard. She gives a startled gasp, pulls experimentally on the restraints then looks up at where he stands next to he bed. He dares her with his eyes to make something of it, knowing that she could whisk the shackles away as easily as breathing, knowing also that she won’t. She nods, and he knows she understands that he needs this, needs to work out some of his frustration and fury on her body. 

He has the hook now, sharp and gleaming in the soft light, and she bites her lip as he brandishes it. She knows he won’t hurt her, but the fact that the potential for pain is there excites her. Captain Hook excites her, and though Killian is sometimes not sure how he feels about that he is grateful that she loves all of him, even the ugly parts. 

He drags the hook up the inside of her thigh and over her mound, tickling the golden curls atop it, watching with dark amusement as she holds her breath and tries not to writhe. She wants the hook on her clit, he knows, he knows exactly how she likes to be touched with it, but tonight he is not in the mood to give her what she wants right away. He wants to torture her a bit first, wants her breathless and helpless, begging for what only he can give. 

He wants reassurance that he is the only man she loves. He knows he is, but tonight he needs to feel it.

He teases her with the hook through her curls a few moments more, applying pressure that has her squirming but not slipping it into her folds. Instead he traces patterns up her belly, around her navel then along the underside of her breast, dragging the sharp tip across her flesh just hard enough for her to feel it, not even leaving the faintest mark behind. Hundreds of years of practice have given him a finesse with this appendage, a delicacy of touch that seems incongruous to the heft and intent of the hook. She is whimpering now, though he doubts she is aware of doing so, her eyes shut tight and her hands gripping and releasing the headboard she is chained to. He brings the hook up to her nipple, circling it with the curved edge before pressing the tip into the centre of the hardened bud. She gasps, and the chain of the handcuffs clangs against the headboard as she struggles against her bonds. He applies pressure that falls just short of pain, and through the haze of her mindless arousal she forces out a single word. 

“More.” 

“What’s that, darling?” he inquires, as though he hasn’t heard her. “Do you wish me to stop?”

“No! More. H-harder.” 

His brow furrows slightly. Any harder and he will definitely hurt her, but he complies, increasing the pressure and tilting the tip until it sinks into her skin, not enough to draw blood but barely shy of it. She makes a low, keening noise he’s never heard from her before, part pleasure but part a twisted sort of yearning that springs from the same dark impulses that drove him to restrain her. She is doing penance, he realises, assuaging her guilt over hurting him by bringing pain upon herself.

Part of him wants to let her do it. Instead he pulls his hook away. 

“No—” she whines.

“Swan.” 

“Killian, please.” 

“You needn’t do this, love.”

“Yes I do, I need it—“

“Darling—” 

“Damn it, Hook! I need you to fuck me and not be gentle about it, and you know you need that too!” 

He hesitates. She is right, he is simmering with violence that needs an outlet, but he doesn’t truly wish to hurt her. A bit of teasing with the tip of his hook is one thing, actual punitive pain quite another. Killian is a broad-minded man but true pain has never turned him on. He’s known far too much of it for that. If she is determined to make amends to him —though there are none owed— she can do it simply by letting him have his way with her, putting herself at his mercy and letting him fuck her as he pleases. 

“Very well,” he says, “But we do this my way.” 

She nods eagerly and he returns the hook to her nipple, stroking its curve over the small pinprick of a bruise that has formed there, at the same time biting hard on the other breast, sucking another bruise into her skin. She thrashes beneath him, on-edge and desperate, and he chuckles against her flesh. This is the kind of pain he prefers to give her. She won’t be coming for some considerable time. 

He sucks a line of bruises along her collarbone and the curve of her neck as his hand slips slowly down her body, coming to rest between her legs. He presses the heel of it against her, rocking it gently, stimulating her clit without direct touch. Her heels dig into the mattress as she lets her legs fall apart, wordlessly begging him to touch her properly, but he ignores her plea. His cock is rock hard and aching, his hand already drenched with her arousal, but he pays them no mind, instead licking a trail up her neck, soothing the marks he’s left there, making her shiver. 

“Damn you,” she whispers, but there is no heat behind the curse. “Why can’t you just fuck me?”

“All in good time, my love.” This is torture, after all, and he is a very patient man. 

He reaches out with his mind and manipulates the dream, and shackles appear on her ankles to match the ones on her wrists, spreading her legs wide. He kisses down her belly and over her mound, nuzzling his nose into the wet curls. She is intensely aroused and she smells amazing, musky and sweet, his favourite smell in the world. He wants to bury his face in her cunt and lick it clean. Soon, he promises himself. Very soon.  

He kisses lightly over the damp hair, humming as he gets a taste of her, the vibrations making her buck her hips, her scream of frustration very nearly drowned out by the clang of the shackles against the bedframe. He waits. She is better at managing the dreams than he is, she could put a stop to this at any time, could reverse their places and shackle him to the bed. She’s done it before. But the dream remains unchanged, and he feels a rush of love for her. She understands. No one has ever understood him as she does. 

Slowly he parts her glistening flesh with his tongue and licks patterns through it with just the tip, still teasing, allowing neither of them what they truly want. She is moaning and twisting, straining to bring him closer to where she wants him, her range of movement limited by the shackles on her ankles. He licks deeper, caressing her swollen flesh with the flat of his tongue, dancing around her clit until she screams at him, damns him, and finally begs him in a broken voice to let her come.

This is what he has been waiting for. He drops a kiss onto her curls and sits up, taking just a moment to position himself before plunging his cock deep inside her. She’s so wet she squelches, and despite the tightwire tension in their bodies they both snigger at the sound. Normally the dream smoothes over such things but tonight they are both longing for what feels real. He removes the restraints as he begins to move inside her, and she wraps her arms and legs around him, blanketing him with her love and nourishing him with her strength. He thrusts hard and relentlessly, looping his hook through the iron sworls of the headboard, and she clings to him, letting him ride her, fuck her deep into the mattress. This is what they have both been craving, and it’s not long before they come, crying out in unison as pleasure engulfs them. 

They cling to each other in the aftermath. The dream never lasts long after they finish, and none of their attempts to prolong it have yet been successful. Her arms are tightly wound around his neck and she is crying again. 

“I don’t want to let you go,” she sobs. “I don’t want you to be a stranger the next time I see you.” 

His heart breaks for what feels like the millionth time, and he wonders at the resilience of the organ, how it hasn’t crumbled into dust ages ago. “I know, my love,” he says. “It hurts more than I thought it would. But we will get through this, somehow, you and I. Together.”      

She nods, but her tears are still flowing. He brushes them away with his thumb and smiles reassuringly even through his own agony, groping for the words she needs to hear. “I’ve not believed in much in my life,” he says finally, “But I believe in you, Emma Swan, and I will fight for you. I’ll never stop.” 

“I know you won’t,” she whispers. “I love you so much, Killian.” 

“I love you too, darling.” 

Killian woke with a start, as was common after a shared dream. Less common was waking to the sounds of sobbing from the other side of the wooden divider. Quickly he cleaned himself up with the tissues he’d left on the nightstand for that purpose and slipped on some pajama bottoms, slid his feet into the sheepskin slippers he’d lined up neatly next to the bed the night before, then padded silently over to Henry’s curtain. “Henry?” he said softly, wishing he had a door to knock on. “Are you all right, lad? May I come in?”

There was a moment of silence, apart from sniffling. Finally Henry replied. “Come in.” 

Killian pushed aside the curtain and approached the bed where Henry was curled, his tearstained face pressed into his pillow. 

“What’s this, my boy?” asked Killian gently, sitting down on the edge of the bed and brushing the hair from his forehead. “What’s troubling you?”

“I was just thinking about my mom,” said Henry. “And how she’s stuck with Walsh and she doesn’t know what he is. And my other mom, we don’t even know what her life is like now. And my dad, I— I kind of thought he might be with my mom here, but now we don’t know where he is either, and I just feel like everything’s wrong! I’ve got three parents and none of them know me. No one who loves me even knows who I am!” He sobbed again, and buried his face in Killian’s shoulder. 

Heart breaking yet again —how could it keep doing that?— Killian wrapped his arms around Henry and hugged him tightly. “I love you, Henry,” he said. 

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” said Henry, his voice muffled in Killian’s t-shirt. 

“I would never insult you with such a deception, lad. I know I’m not really your father, but I certainly couldn’t love you more if I were.” 

“Really?” The hope in Henry’s voice wrenched at him, and Killian tightened his arms. 

“Of course. How could I not? You’re Emma’s son, Baelfire’s son. Milah’s grandson. Very nearly everyone I’ve ever loved has had a hand in making you.”

“What about Rumplestiltskin?”

“Aye, well, let’s not dwell too heavily on his contribution, hmmm?”

Henry chuckled through his tears. 

“And even if that weren’t the case, I would still love you for yourself. Your courage and your optimism and your imagination have kept me strong throughout this whole ordeal. I truly don’t know what I would have done without you. Something dreadful, no doubt.” 

“No, you wouldn’t’ve,” said Henry earnestly. “Don’t think like that. You’re not a villain anymore, you haven’t been for a long time. A villain wouldn’t have taken care of me all this time, no matter who my parents were. And I love you too. Dad.” 

Killian smiled as tears prickled behind his eyes, touched beyond measure by Henry’s faith. Sometimes the lad was just so much like Emma. He stroked Henry’s back until he fell asleep, then eased himself away, pressing a kiss onto the boy’s hair before he left. 

The next morning they awoke to rain, sheets of water pouring down the large windows of their loft, lightning and thunder cracking and booming off the distant shore. By unspoken mutual agreement and after a quick trip to the grocery store, Henry and Killian spent the day indoors, arranging the shop and preparing for the delivery they expected the next day. In the evening they cooked dinner together, baked fish and vegetables at Killian’s insistence (and which Henry no longer objected to very strenuously; once Killian learned that the spices which in his realm were valued more highly than gold could be had in this one for mere sheets of their odd paper currency, he had taken to applying them lavishly to everything he cooked, vastly improving it in the boy’s opinion) and curled up on the sofa to eat it, watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Henry’s choice. Despite everything, in that moment Killian felt happy. He wanted this to be his life: Henry and Emma and quiet days where nothing happened, no lust for revenge, no looming threats or reasons to hurt people. He missed his ship, terribly, missed the freedom of the open seas, but he didn’t miss being a pirate. It occurred to him that if he’d been able to choose all those centuries ago, that young, upright, wide-eyed version of himself, if he’d had the luxury of choosing the path his life would take he’d have chosen this. A family, a respectable career, a peaceful existence. He knew he’d done nothing to deserve it, but he yearned for it nonetheless, and was prepared to do whatever was necessary to secure it. 

The following day dawned bright and sunny, with the fresh-washed feeling that comes after a heavy storm, and Killian declared that it was time for Henry to go to school. 

“You’re all enrolled,” he said, pouring milk into two bowls of breakfast cereal. “You just need to report to the principal’s office to collect your schedule.”

Henry made an indistinct noise that Killian interpreted as reluctant consent. 

“Do you wish me to walk with you?” he inquired. 

“No, I’ll be fine. I went to that school for years, remember?”

“Aye, of course. It’s still a new start, though.” 

“Yeah,” said Henry rather glumly, mashing the cereal with the back of his spoon.  

Killian wondered what this could be about. Henry was usually quite an enthusiastic student. “Is everything all right, lad?” he asked, attepting a casual tone. 

Henry frowned and thought before replying. “Are you sure I have to go to school today?” he said finally. You don’t need me here for anything?”

Aha, thought Killian. This must be what the books called “separation anxiety,” uncommon in children as old as Henry but not unknown, and quite understandable in this case. It had been just the two of them for so long Henry was naturally reluctant to go off on his own. “I’m always glad of your assistance, but you must go to school,” he said firmly. “And don’t forget, this is part of the plan. You’re our undercover agent, collecting intelligence. Report back to me this afternoon on anything you can learn about the curse and how it’s affecting people. What their new identities are, any hint of who might be behind this. You know what to look for. Your mum and I are relying on you.” 

Henry perked up slightly at this and nodded. “I can have a spy notebook, and write things in code,” he said, his clever mind clearly already forming plans. 

“That’s the spirit,” said Killian, smiling to himself as Henry began to eat his cereal. When he’d finished he collected his backpack and permitted Killian to hug him goodbye before heading out the door, the habitual spring still in his step. Killian watched him through the wide front window, feeling a small twinge when he disappeared around the corner. He missed the lad already. Perhaps separation anxiety went both ways. 

To distract himself, he made a cup of tea and went downstairs to spend a relaxing hour setting up the accounts for the bookstore. It was something he flattered himself that he was quite good at, having discovered to his considerable amusement that running a business was in many ways not dissimilar to captaining a pirate ship. As captain he had been responsible for keeping records of their takings and ensuring that each crewmember received his fair share, while as a business owner he would need to keep records of the store’s sales and he hoped eventually pay himself and any employees a salary. On his ship he had maintained inventories of their provisions, set and enforced duty rosters, made plans for where to hunt their next take — or how to grow his business, to use the terminology of this realm. All of which turned out to be skills he could transfer to the relatively sedate task of running a bookstore. Who would have guessed that all those years he’d actually had a profession that was considered respectable in this realm, he reflected with a smirk. Of course, the reputation for ruthlessness and bloodlust he’d taken great pains to cultivate was not exactly standard procedure for businesspeople in this realm, but from what he’d read about many of the more successful CEOs his methods had been almost tame by comparison.

He was startled from his musings by the sound of the shop door opening, and a voice calling “Hello? Is anyone here?”

Kilian rose and went down to the ground floor, startled into momentary dumbness at the sight of the woman standing hesitantly in the centre of the room. 

“Swan?” he said, once he had found his voice. “What are you doing here?”

[texaslawinformation]

The Holidays During Your Texas Divorce?

If you have need a best Law service, You can get better suggestions from The Holidays During Your Texas Divorce? with the great process!

Family Lawyer Houston: As the old adage goes: you can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family. This is true to a great extent, however, any person who's going through a divorce can tell you that your spouse can pick to be no longer be your family member simply by submitting a piece of paper to a court. With a few clicks on a keyboard, your life partner can essentially choose a life without you and in so doing can throw your relationship with your children and your extended family into turmoil.

Focus on your Children

Patience during the holidays is important. The ability to take a step back from the situation you're going through with your spouse in order to enjoy the time available with your child(ren).

The reality is straightforward: your kids are not going to remember every present you bought them, or where they sat at the Nutcracker with you. What they will remember is how their mom or dad laughed non stop when "A Christmas Story" cycled through for its fifth showing of the day on a cable TV channel. They'll remember the experience of baking (burning?) some Christmas cookies for Santa Claus.

Unfortunately, kids will also remember if you say some not so nice things about their grandparents. Managing your emotions and how you talk to your kids about what's happening with you and your spouse will set the tone for how your kids ultimately deal with the breakup of their parents.

It's unfair and unrealistic for your kids to understand and put into context the legal case between their parents. They don't know why their parents aren't living together anymore and they can't comprehend the emotional context of why the holidays may be especially difficult for both of you.

While it's not necessary to have a sit down with them, it is necessary for you to provide the stability and consistency that has been lacking since the divorce process began. Nobody is perfect, but divorcing parents can do their best to create a sense of normalcy in a storm of change.

People going through a divorce can often times get caught up in the legal details of their situation and lose sight of what really matters- their kids. The attorneys at the Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC would generally advise any person going through a divorce to become less an expert on discovery protocol, and more an expert on discovering how to manage your relationship with your children during this difficult time. The emotional aspects to a divorce are not lost on our attorneys and we are eager to assist you and your family navigate your legal matter successfully.

Who gets the kids for Christmas while my divorce is pending?

For the majority of holiday celebrants that are reading this blog post, Christmas Day is the most important day of the holiday season. It is a time for celebration, family and togetherness.

For those parents going through a divorce, however, all three of the aforementioned attributes of Christmas can be thrown into turmoil due to a divorce. The big question for many divorcing parents is who will get to see the kids on December 25th?

The answer, in true lawyer form, is it depends. If you and your spouse have agreed (or been ordered by a court) to follow what's known as a standard possession order during the divorce, then one parent will get to see the kids on Christmas.

Christmas under a Standard Possession Order

Spouse #1 will get the kids from 6:00 p.m. on the day school lets out for the holidays until noon on December 28th. Spouse #2 will get the kids for the remainder of the holiday break until 6:00 p.m. on the Sunday before school is back in session. If you're the parent who had the kids on Thanksgiving, then you will typically not be able to get the kids on Christmas Day.

Christmas When Parents Agree

Another answer to which parent gets to see the kids on Christmas is a little more flexible. If you and your spouse are able to work on a visitation schedule on your own, then it's possible that a better solution can be reached.

People tend to believe that once a judge signs a piece of paper that the sentences in that document have meaning beyond just words on a page. A court's order acts merely as a default setting for parties who cannot agree to something different.

However, if spouses can agree to a different arrangement that better suits them, the court is not going to bat an eye. This is the ideal scenario. There are fewer hurt feelings, and both parents feel like they're having a say in the matter. What's most important is that the kids are able to share experiences on the most important days of the holiday season with each parent..

What not to do during the holidays while your divorce is pending

Divorce Lawyers in Houston: Any person going through a divorce can tell you that while their case is pending they are not fully able to play by their own rules. The court in which their case is being heard has a set of rules that were either agreed to by the parties or were handed down by the judge that the litigants are expected to follow.

Like it or lump it, the behavior of each spouse is being viewed in the context of these rules. A common question clients of the Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC ask our attorneys deal with what not to do during a divorce. For the purposes of this blog post, your humble author has selected three important behaviors to avoid. Those include:

> Do not violate the visitation language of your order > Resist temptation to voice complaints about your spouse to the kids > don't build up resentment towards your spouse

Do not violate the visitation language of your order

Whether you and your spouse have agreed to abide by a standard possession order regarding Christmas Break or have crafted a more personalized schedule, it is vital to follow the rules as they have been laid out.

Trust goes a long way and if you violate the trust of your spouse by not dropping the kids off where you agreed to or failing to communicate a change in plans, you may find yourself in court after Christmas explaining to a judge why you weren't following the rules. It's normal to want to see your kids as much a possible during Christmas time. That desire is no excuse to violate court orders.

Resist temptation to voice complaints about your spouse to the kids

This rule can be extended to not asking the kids if your soon to be ex is seeing another person or any other personal inquiry like that. If you haven't already figured it out the kids are much less concerned than you are about petty differences that you and the other parent are experiencing. They want to enjoy the holidays with you (and the other parent for that matter).

Getting back to point number one- there are most likely rules in place from the court that bar you from using derogatory language in front of the kids about the other party to the divorce. In many instances this extends to your family as well. Remove your ego from the equation and have a sip of apple cider with your kids instead.

Don't build up resentment towards your spouse

Finally, don't use the holidays as another opportunity to build up resentment towards your spouse. A useful (corny) saying I use with my own clients is to use the divorce you're going through to get better- not bitter. If this hasn't already been shared with you, I'm happy to do so now: your case will most likely not end up with you on the witness stand telling a judge about the shortcomings of your spouse. Most likely it will end in mediation.

A scenario where you won't even see your spouse as your case essentially comes to an end. With this all being said- the holidays can create an atmosphere of stress and anger if you allow it to. Constantly reminding yourself that you can't see your kids because of your spouse or taking inventory of each eye roll your spouse gives you when you drop of the kids at the other parents is not going to do your kids or you any good. Use the holidays as a springboard for personal betterment.

Can I spend money on Christmas presents?

As anyone who's gone through a divorce can attest to, your life during the divorce process is not what you've become accustomed to as an adult. You are temporarily ordered in most circumstances to restrain behaviors associated with your kids, your financial endeavors and notably your money. Those factors all come to a head during the Christmas season.

The attorneys with the Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC are often asked by clients whether or not spending money on Christmas gifts is allowed under a temporary restraining order.

To start off with- a temporary restraining order are orders from a court that are in place at the very outset of your divorce case. Often filed concurrently with the Original Petition for Divorce, a temporary restraining order is submitted to a judge for signature while the parties prepare for either a temporary orders hearing or mediation.

After a judge signs the TRO, they are in place for fourteen days and can be extended for another fourteen upon petition by a party. In Harris County, a TRO can take on different forms but a hallmark of any TRO are orders regarding spending community income.

The short answer to the question posited by the title to this blog post- can a divorcing parent spend money on Christmas gifts- is yes.

A TRO or temporary orders will disallow taking on any indebtedness or limiting the ability of the other parent to utilize credit cards. It's the opinion of this author that these are the most relevant portions of any TRO as they relate to spending money on Christmas gifts.

Generally speaking- as long as you spend within reason there is nothing that explicitly forbids you from spending money to buy your children gifts during the holidays. While it is true that the financial lives of divorcing spouses are restrained due to the divorce action, reasonable expenditures at the local toy store are just fine.

Many, many aspects of a divorce are foreign and unnatural for the parties involved. While the rationale behind the rules are straightforward, the interpretation and ultimate application of the rules can differ from case to case.

It is best to have an experienced law office to represent you and your interests during a divorce. The attorneys with the Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC offer the sort of representation you deserve. Contact our office today to learn more about the services we are able to offer.

How to Save money during the Holidays?

Houston Family Law Attorney: The holidays are expensive. You don't have to talk to a lawyer to figure that out (though I would argue that it helps). Gifts, decorations, travel and fancy foods can quickly eat into your bank account if you don't watch out and act carefully when pulling out your credit card.

Being involved in a family law case- whether a divorce, modification or other matter- can make an already difficult situation worse. Spending money on an attorney is a necessary expenditure in most cases but an expenditure nonetheless. How then can you minimize financial stresses during this time of the year while attempting to have yourself a Merry Christmas? Some suggestions include:

> forget the fancy gifts for your children > limit travel to driving distance > Christmas is not a competition

Forget the Fancy Gifts for your Children

Despite their protestations to the contrary, your kiddos will not remember if you got them the exact action figure, video game or cell phone that they've wanted for months. They just won't. Opening up a gift is a fleeting memory for most kids and your bang for buck ratio is not very good.

The attorneys at the Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC would advise temperance at the toy store this year. Instead- why not plan a Christmas hike with the kids while you're together this holiday season? Texas winters barely qualify for cold and a nice walk is good for the soul, the mind and the pocketbook.

The inverse of our rule about kids not remembering gifts is that kids do remember experiences. Helping your child climb a tree or skip a stone on the neighborhood pond is going to stick with them much longer than ripping open some wrapping paper.

Limit Travel to Driving Distance

Suggestion number two for saving money is to limit travel to those family and friends that live within driving distance. Resist the temptation to jet-set for far flung destinations and instead opt to jump in the family cruiser to see the relative that you've been neglecting but lives virtually around the corner.

Your family member in sunny California will understand if you skip the typical Christmas get together in the pricey Golden State and stay closer to home. Again, our previous point about kids not really remembering the expensive gifts rings true here as well. Plan family based activities close to home and you'll score a double net positive of saving money and building memories with your immediate and extended families.

Christmas is not a competition

If you know that your spouse is going to engage in an all out holiday offensive- complete with gifts up the wazoo and a fancy trip during their periods of possession- try going the opposite direction.

Kids are intuitive and they understand when mommy and daddy are going tit for tat on spending money. They'll use that to their advantage and in so doing you'll be teaching the kids a bad habit about what this time of year is really about. Tamper down the spending and resist the temptation to keep up with your soon to be ex spouse.

How can I reach the Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC during the Holidays?

Houston Family Lawyers: Whether you are a current client of the Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC or are simply looking for representation on a Family Law case, our attorneys are only a phone call away- even during the Christmas season. While our lawyers and office staff will not be in the office on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, you are able to contact our office 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year with questions or concerns.

The majority of our lawyers and support staff have voicemail messages sent directly to their phones or email addresses making quick responses possible even during the holidays. We understand that not all family matters during this time of year can go smoothly. So if your drop off/pick up of a child doesn't go smoothly and you have a question for your lawyer or paralegal or if you realized that it's time to start the divorce process- our office is just a phone call away. The Contact Page for the Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC includes details on how to reach our office by phone and how to schedule an appointment with your legal team once the holidays come to a close.

The Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC wishes you and your family the best holiday season possible- even if your family has seen better days. A friendly staff member will assist you as quickly as possible upon receipt of your call.

No two divorces are the same and the attorneys with the Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC understand this as well as any family law firm in southeast Texas. Please contact our office today to learn more about the services our office can offer in your family law ... Continue Reading

[g-2doc]

INCUBUS AU

I COME BEARING COLOURED ROUGH SKETCHES AND CHARACTER BACKSTORIES!!

- Based in Victorian era England -

(despite me knowing nothing about Victorians but hey ho.. if I did a Restoration au I would be ON that, but not Victorian idk anything about them... Weird how I make this unnecessarily harder for myself... I could base it in modern day if I wanted?? But no. Victorian aesthetic. Anyway, this was written at like 2am, so there's probably typos everywhere, but who cares?? I don't!)

Stuart Pot (b. 1865 AD - Victorian)

- Lives an upper class lifestyle. His father, David Pot, is a very famous inventor/engineer who started off with money from his parents anyway. His mother, Rachel Pot, does work in medical sciences/human biology on behalf of the Royal Society - though isn't recognised for her work as she's female, and was only granted access through a close friend (Frederick Cracker).

- Still lives with his parents at 23 years old (relatively normal at the time until marriage, especially after his head injury as a child calling for regular medical attention from his mother).

- Engaged to Paula Cracker (who I like and will NOT villainise no matter what you say!!!), which was arranged by his mother and her father (a highly respected fellow in the Royal Society). The engagement is a little complicated, as he has a habit of putting off the arrangements, to his mother's great annoyance. He and Paula are close friends, but neither can say that they love the other (like most engagements of their class). Paula, with his permission, sees other men in secret outside of their engagement. Whilst he similarly has her permission, he doesn't see other people, mostly due to his sometimes over-bearing parents and also his shy nature.

- His mother encourages him to go into the sciences, after his father's efforts to get him into engineering failed miserably. The connection to the Cracker's only assists with this. He sometimes talks to his mother's friends about medicine, as he has a small amount of interest in it, and they're experts anyway. Regardless, he always dreamed of being a musician, but he was told he couldn't by his mother. His family have a tradition of going to the music hall on the 23rd of every month (started on his birthday) because he likes to watch the singers. He also regularly goes to saloons by himself.

- He's mostly attracted to men, but has never been with anyone - hence his reluctancy to be legally bound to Paula straight off. As this is based in 1889, homosexual acts are a criminal offence (introduced in 1885), so obviously this is difficult for him, and causes him to be quite inhibited as a person. (Completely unrelated, but whilst researching this I found that it was illegal for a man to sleep with his deceased wife's sister, but, it was noted, not illegal to sleep with her first cousin. Mad.)

- He has blue eyes, until they turn black after he falls in love with Murdoc. They turn black as falling for an Incubus is sort of seen as a curse, so has side effects. Neither of them know this though, since Murdoc has never been loved before, and 2-D knows near to nothing about the occult anyway (he doesn't even really know what Murdoc is, but can tell he's not a virtuous creature by any means).

Murdoc (b. 666 BC - Brittonic Celt (sort of...) )

- An Incubus (which is a type of demon that feeds from sexual activity ;)) ). Like all demons, he's considered one of the many spawns of the devil. He feeds on fragments of a person's soul, and feeds once every other day - but can survive a month without feeding. Food doesn't provide sustenance and if he's fed it, his body will reject it and he'll vomit.

- Has to sleep, more than humans do (roughly 14 hours a day, usually from around 2 am to 4 pm). He usually sleeps in the morning as he's strongest from 9 pm up until 12 am after such it then starts to be considered early morning. In usual circumstances, he uses this time to find a mate and seduce them, sometimes entering their dreams to do so - sometimes this takes more than one night, but he'll never stay at it more than two nights, and will instead find a different, easier mate.

- If he plans on feeding off of a mate, he can't initiate the relation, or it doesn't qualify as the victim giving up their soul willingly. Therefore, to effectively feed, he needs to be the submissive one (Murdoc's a bottom and you can't stop me). He'll occasionally stay with a mate for a little while if it guarantees regular feeding, but can't stay indefinitely due to the side effects of his feeding often eventually resulting in a near-to-death state, and also the risks of being found/hunted. He can also get a person's soul from killing them, but because this is unwilling, it has side effects. If an Incubus/Succubus feeds this way regularly for a length of time, they'll eventually go insane, and other Incubi/Succubi will come and kill them out of instinct.

- Mates can be male or female, as Incubi (and Succubi) are bisexual. Murdoc hunts them out because he can sense lust, and Incubi/Succubi can tell the difference between certain types of lust. For example, he won't prey on someone lusting for a woman, because obviously he'd struggle a lot with that endeavour..

- (This is mostly based off stuff on Wikipedia) If someone who has done the sign of the cross within 6 hours touches him, their touch will burn him, hence this works as good Incubus and Succubus repellent. However, unlike other demons, he is unaffected by exorcisms (as it's his own body) or blessed items (as he doesn't respect the power of the church). (This isn't off Wikipedia, this is made up:) Also, he can't enter a church, and the Lord's prayer inflicts excruciating pain.

- His hands and feet are blackened up to the joints, he has glowing red eyes, pointed teeth, forked tail, and wings - which are all features of a demon. Unlike other demons, Incubi and Succubi have avian wings, not bat-like ones. Murdoc's resemble that of a raven, though there are many other variations. They also have longer tongues. His nose is broken and his front tooth on the right is chipped from being assaulted by a human man who didn't like him having relations with his wife, and was unafraid to punch a demon in the face (what a legend...)

- Doesn't really have any powers until the night window, where he can enter dreams and also perform telekinesis (though it isn't easy and takes a lot of effort, unless he's very angry, then it's a breeze). He's immortal and can't be killed by humans - can only be killed by other demons. Obviously he can fly, y'know, since he has wings... Otherwise he's just a weird looking guy who's been going about getting laid for 2.5 thousand years

- Once he falls in love (with Stuart), he gradually becomes more human. However, it isn't natural for demons to become human - so the process causes a lot of issues for him (gives him severe mood swings, makes him very irritable), and the physical changes tend to hurt a lot. First his feathers begin to fall, then his limbs fade to their normal colour and his eyes fade from red to brown (this bit isn't painful), his claws become brittle/break easily which can cause pain, his tail starts to grow shorter giving him growing pains. After this, no more changes can occur naturally, but the bones in his wings and his tail start to deteriorate severely, causing incredible amounts of pain. To relieve this, he'd have to cut them off, but as he becomes human he is able to die of blood loss/infection/go into shock so it'd be very risky, especially in a time where medicine is still underdeveloped. Furthermore, demons who become human are rejected by the devil and also looked down upon by all demons/monsters and may be killed out of spite.

.

And that's all I have so far - but I've started a fic, so I'll probably make up more as write it..

[houstontexaslawinfo]

The Holidays During Your Texas Divorce?

If you want to related guideline confidentiality Texas Child Law experience, So you can better suggestions in The Holidays During Your Texas Divorce?

Divorce Lawyer in Houston: As the old adage goes: you can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family. This is true to a great extent, however, any person who's going through a divorce can tell you that your spouse can pick to be no longer be your family member simply by submitting a piece of paper to a court. With a few clicks on a keyboard, your life partner can essentially choose a life without you and in so doing can throw your relationship with your children and your extended family into turmoil.

Focus on your Children

Patience during the holidays is important. The ability to take a step back from the situation you're going through with your spouse in order to enjoy the time available with your child(ren).

The reality is straightforward: your kids are not going to remember every present you bought them, or where they sat at the Nutcracker with you. What they will remember is how their mom or dad laughed non stop when "A Christmas Story" cycled through for its fifth showing of the day on a cable TV channel. They'll remember the experience of baking (burning?) some Christmas cookies for Santa Claus.

Unfortunately, kids will also remember if you say some not so nice things about their grandparents. Managing your emotions and how you talk to your kids about what's happening with you and your spouse will set the tone for how your kids ultimately deal with the breakup of their parents.

It's unfair and unrealistic for your kids to understand and put into context the legal case between their parents. They don't know why their parents aren't living together anymore and they can't comprehend the emotional context of why the holidays may be especially difficult for both of you.

While it's not necessary to have a sit down with them, it is necessary for you to provide the stability and consistency that has been lacking since the divorce process began. Nobody is perfect, but divorcing parents can do their best to create a sense of normalcy in a storm of change.

People going through a divorce can often times get caught up in the legal details of their situation and lose sight of what really matters- their kids. The attorneys at the Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC would generally advise any person going through a divorce to become less an expert on discovery protocol, and more an expert on discovering how to manage your relationship with your children during this difficult time. The emotional aspects to a divorce are not lost on our attorneys and we are eager to assist you and your family navigate your legal matter successfully.

Who gets the kids for Christmas while my divorce is pending?

Divorce Attorney Houston: For the majority of holiday celebrants that are reading this blog post, Christmas Day is the most important day of the holiday season. It is a time for celebration, family and togetherness.

For those parents going through a divorce, however, all three of the aforementioned attributes of Christmas can be thrown into turmoil due to a divorce. The big question for many divorcing parents is who will get to see the kids on December 25th?

The answer, in true lawyer form, is it depends. If you and your spouse have agreed (or been ordered by a court) to follow what's known as a standard possession order during the divorce, then one parent will get to see the kids on Christmas.

Christmas under a Standard Possession Order

Spouse #1 will get the kids from 6:00 p.m. on the day school lets out for the holidays until noon on December 28th. Spouse #2 will get the kids for the remainder of the holiday break until 6:00 p.m. on the Sunday before school is back in session. If you're the parent who had the kids on Thanksgiving, then you will typically not be able to get the kids on Christmas Day.

Christmas When Parents Agree

Houston Divorce Lawyers: Another answer to which parent gets to see the kids on Christmas is a little more flexible. If you and your spouse are able to work on a visitation schedule on your own, then it's possible that a better solution can be reached.

People tend to believe that once a judge signs a piece of paper that the sentences in that document have meaning beyond just words on a page. A court's order acts merely as a default setting for parties who cannot agree to something different.

However, if spouses can agree to a different arrangement that better suits them, the court is not going to bat an eye. This is the ideal scenario. There are fewer hurt feelings, and both parents feel like they're having a say in the matter. What's most important is that the kids are able to share experiences on the most important days of the holiday season with each parent.

What not to do during the holidays while your divorce is pending

Family Law Attorney Houston: Any person going through a divorce can tell you that while their case is pending they are not fully able to play by their own rules. The court in which their case is being heard has a set of rules that were either agreed to by the parties or were handed down by the judge that the litigants are expected to follow.

Like it or lump it, the behavior of each spouse is being viewed in the context of these rules. A common question clients of the Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC ask our attorneys deal with what not to do during a divorce. For the purposes of this blog post, your humble author has selected three important behaviors to avoid. Those include:

> Do not violate the visitation language of your order > Resist temptation to voice complaints about your spouse to the kids > don't build up resentment towards your spouse

Do not violate the visitation language of your order

Whether you and your spouse have agreed to abide by a standard possession order regarding Christmas Break or have crafted a more personalized schedule, it is vital to follow the rules as they have been laid out.

Trust goes a long way and if you violate the trust of your spouse by not dropping the kids off where you agreed to or failing to communicate a change in plans, you may find yourself in court after Christmas explaining to a judge why you weren't following the rules. It's normal to want to see your kids as much a possible during Christmas time. That desire is no excuse to violate court orders.

Resist temptation to voice complaints about your spouse to the kids

Houston Divorce Attorney: This rule can be extended to not asking the kids if your soon to be ex is seeing another person or any other personal inquiry like that. If you haven't already figured it out the kids are much less concerned than you are about petty differences that you and the other parent are experiencing. They want to enjoy the holidays with you (and the other parent for that matter).

Getting back to point number one- there are most likely rules in place from the court that bar you from using derogatory language in front of the kids about the other party to the divorce. In many instances this extends to your family as well. Remove your ego from the equation and have a sip of apple cider with your kids instead.

Don't build up resentment towards your spouse

Finally, don't use the holidays as another opportunity to build up resentment towards your spouse. A useful (corny) saying I use with my own clients is to use the divorce you're going through to get better- not bitter. If this hasn't already been shared with you, I'm happy to do so now: your case will most likely not end up with you on the witness stand telling a judge about the shortcomings of your spouse. Most likely it will end in mediation.

A scenario where you won't even see your spouse as your case essentially comes to an end. With this all being said- the holidays can create an atmosphere of stress and anger if you allow it to. Constantly reminding yourself that you can't see your kids because of your spouse or taking inventory of each eye roll your spouse gives you when you drop of the kids at the other parents is not going to do your kids or you any good. Use the holidays as a springboard for personal betterment.

Can I spend money on Christmas presents?

Houston Family Lawyer: As anyone who's gone through a divorce can attest to, your life during the divorce process is not what you've become accustomed to as an adult. You are temporarily ordered in most circumstances to restrain behaviors associated with your kids, your financial endeavors and notably your money. Those factors all come to a head during the Christmas season ... Continue Reading