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[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 11: It's Giving Kidnapping?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 10.1K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it) and because there is an unwanted sexual advance (not Soldier Boy) (it's more someone making the reader feel uncomfortable and the person talking to the reader, not so much touching, but it's still there and it's wrong), Violence, Swearing, Mentions of sex, Thoughts of Sex, Kidnapping, GASLIGHTING, Threatening, Denial, A whole lot of denial, Sexism, Creepiness, Manipulation, Talks about weed, Super manipulative trash man, And another Super Manipulative Trash Man but this time he's even more creepy, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Reader POV

"So where is it that we're going again?" You ask your brother Darren while looking absentmindedly out the passenger side window of his car watching the other people on the bridge.

The sun was shining, bathing the interior of the car in a warm light, the clouds puffy and the sky a beautiful blue that faded into the background behind the iconic New York Skyline as the buildings raised their hands to worship the beautiful day. It was the perfect day for you to grab a paper back and a cup of iced pineapple tea and make your way to Central Park, instead you were stuck in a car with your brother who was taking you God knows were.

"I told you it's a surprise." Darren replies, hitting the gas to cut off someone in the fast lane who honks at him, but Darren only flips them the bird and continues to speed down the bridge.

You had been in the car for over thirty minutes, a car that Darren said was a "loan" from his new BFF, the same person that he was ecstatic about you meeting.

The car was fancier than what you were used to, state of the art with butterscotch colored leather seats so supple and smooth that it felt like you were being hugged by the passenger side chair. The windows were made of thicker glass and you guessed that they must be bulletproof given how sturdy they looked, not to mention they were also darker than average so no one could see into the vehicle, but you could see out. The car was four doors and was made by a European company that you'd never heard of, but you were sure it was expensive. The car probably cost more than the entire inventory of "Please Don't Die" and the building the shop inhabited.

This is weird. You think to yourself, squeezing the leather seat in your hand.

Most of the "friends" your brother introduced you to were as down on their luck as Darren and just as eager to ask for a loan from anyone they could. You'd never met one that could afford a new car let alone a car that looked like it should be owned by the wealthiest man in New York City.

Your frown deepens as you try to figure out where the two of you are going and who it is Darren wants you to meet.

Truthfully, Darren was acting like you didn't hate surprises, you did. Every time your brother dropped by unannounced made you furious. You'd told him over and over again to call first, but no matter what you did each time he showed up without so much as a text.

You sigh audibly. "I just want to be prepared for wherever it is we're going."

"And I told you it's a surprise." His hands tighten on the wheel as if you're annoying him, before he glances over at you with a tight smile. "Come on sissy, it's like you don't even trust me."

The word "trust" makes you frown at him and drags you back to your apartment thirty minutes ago when Ben told you that you were stupid and "too trusting." You didn't understand why Ben got so mad at you going with Darren.

He's my brother, what did Ben think was going to happen? And why was he so angry?

You cross your arms over your chest and lean back into the plush seat.

Who did Ben think he was? He's not my dad! And I am not just some stupid little ditzy girl who needs a big strong man to protect me! I am a grown woman who has survived this long without someone like him butting into all of my business.

The more you sat there in the car, the more your frown deepens, and the more angry you became. You didn't understand why he treated you that way when you hadn't done anything to warrant his temper.

He's just a temperamental petulant child who thinks that he knows everything and that his opinion should be treated with the highest regard!

Usually, you would feel bad about what you had shouted at Ben about his old team and about his son, but not right now. You didn't understand why he was getting so angry and why he cared so much about what you were doing with your brother.

Does Ben really think that Darren would do anything to hurt me?

The whiplash that Ben kept putting you through where he seemed to care and then he didn't was getting old quick…

"Do whatever the fuck you want. It's not like I give a shit about her."

You wince as Ben's words ring in your ears making something stick in your chest. They had hurt more than you thought they would, maybe because you were starting to care about Ben and you thought that he was starting to care about you.

Because what other reason would he walk with you to work, pick you up, and bring you coffee sometimes? And why did he seem to be almost worried when Darren suggested that you meet his friend?

But he doesn't care about you. He's made that much perfectly clear.

You chew the inside of your cheek contemplating the conversation the two of you shared. Maybe I did say some things that were a little harsh, but Ben was being a total dick and he deserved what I said!

A flash of Ben and you tangled in one another this morning comes roaring back bringing a wave of heat flashing through you. Your cheeks flush and the wildflowers growing on the opposite side of the bridge outside of the car all flare bright pink in the sunlight when Darren drives the car past them.

You had been so close to kissing him, so close to letting yourself sink into his warmth and lose yourself in all he was. He was so strong and broad and warm in all the right ways, not to mention he looked really cute this morning with his eyes still a little hazy from sleep and his dark hair falling forward into his face, mused just slightly against the pillow. You could still feel his body laying on top of yours, but the weight wasn't oppressive, it was perfect, like a weighted blanket that made your anxiety fade away. The feeling of his powerful chest beneath the palms of your hands as you dragged them up to tangle his hair ghosts through your body.

Despite Ben's gruff exterior those few soft moments this morning you wished hadn't slipped through your fingertips, you wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel what it was like for him to kiss you softly as if he wished to savor you. The one you'd shared outside your apartment was hungry and frenzied, but you had a feeling deep down in your gut that the kiss Ben and you would have shared on the couch would have been different. The moment felt different too. The way he looked at you, the way he smiled when he noticed the apple tree flowering, and the way he held you close to him with care.

No. I am not going to think about any of that right now. He was a jerk for no reason and even if he wasn't Ben said he didn't care about me. Which is exactly what I've been trying to say since I first met him, he doesn't want to date me, he just wants to fuck me and move on.

When you'd walked out of your bedroom in a fresh outfit, Ben had already gone, and Jake had answered you back saying that it was okay for you to take the day off. Jake rarely said that it was a bad idea, he had said that he would "miss you" but instead of that filling you with warmth it did absolutely nothing. You figured that it was because of the fight Ben and you had. The anger, frustration, hurt, and rage was still currently swirling around your head and whenever it came to a peak you'd get a flash of how good it felt to wake up with Ben on top of you.

"How did you meet your friend?" You ask to keep your mind from wandering back to Ben.

"The usual."

"Usual, meaning?"

"Met him at Richie's poker game, we hit it off." Darren adjusts the radio and flips it to an 80's rock song that you can't remember the name of.

You sigh. "You owe him money don't you?"

"No I don't!" Darren clams up, his hands tightening on the wheel for a moment. "Well, just a little…"

Typical, just typical. Should have brought my damn checkbook.

"I thought you said that you didn't need money?" You pinch the bridge of your nose doing another mental calculation of how much you could give your brother.

"I don't, we worked something out." Darren answers vaguely, turning off of the expressway and onto a side street.

The buildings outside the window begin to be more and more spaced out, becoming more industrial. Each one you pass is fenced in and are quickly changing into giant warehouses and desolate streets. There aren't any other cars on the road with you and you hadn't seen another person in a few minutes.

"Well this looks… murdery." You frown at another empty warehouse with rusting sides and a roof that’s caved in.

Why are we all the way out here?

"It's not murdery, it's just eclectic. Don't be so judgmental." Darren rolls his eyes at you as he makes a left turn in front of a warehouse that is larger than the others, but in much better shape.

It's fenced with barbed wire swirling along the top of the chain links, but there's a man standing at the gate with a leather jacket, sunglasses, and a clip board, the first person you’d seen outside of the car since Darren got off the expressway. He gestures for Darren to roll down the window with the clipboard.

"Hey there Joe." Darren says smoothly, leaning his elbow on the window frame, the picture of ease.

"Darren." Joe states eyes falling on where you're sitting in the passenger seat. "That her?"

"Yeah this is my sister." Darren flashes the usual smile, the one you've seen him use countless times when he needs to schmooze someone or close a "deal."

"Hi." You say awkwardly, smiling at the man identified as Joe.

Something about this feels wrong. Why does he know who I am? I thought I was just meeting Darren's friend?

All Joe does is frown at you. "Doesn't look like a supe."

You turn to look at your brother surprised. Darren knew that it was something you didn't share with everyone, that it was something you only revealed when you had to.

Darren shrugs it off with a laugh. "She is, trust me."

"Hmm." Joe grunts. "And you're late. The boss doesn't like it when people are late."

"Sorry it was her fault. Told her to put on something nice and you know how women are." Darren is completely in his element, gesturing with his hands, and smoothing down any ruffled feathers.

But the whole situation makes you more uncertain.

Who was "the boss?" Is that Darren's friend? And why the fuck did he tell Joe that I was a supe?

You pull on the end of your long sleeved blouse nervously. Darren hadn’t let you leave the house before approving your outfit and finally when you'd walked out of your bedroom wearing a long sleeved green with white polka dot blouse and a pair of dark jeans and your converse he had said that you were "presentable" but then insisted that you leave your hair down.

It made you feel like you were about to go to a job interview. You didn't understand why Darren made you change so many times or why he cared what you wore to meet another one of his skeevy friends. They never seemed to dress up to meet you, so why should you dress up to meet them? Not to mention Darren wasn't wearing anything different than his usual outfit.

He was wearing his black army jacket over a pair of black ripped jeans and a Meatloaf t-shirt. He'd changed out the gauges in his ears for black pointed spikes and the two rings in Darren's right eyebrow were now bright blue. Darren runs his hand over his buzzed hair, giving you a flash of his onyx skull ring on his thumb.

"Yeah I get it, my old lady does the same thing." Joe eyes you appreciatively and winks. "Cleans up nice though."

"Thank you." You reply dryly.

Joe waves Darren through and as he does, you see a gun in a holster hanging against the left side of his chest under his leather jacket.

"Darren what is this? Why was he armed? And why the fuck did you tell him I was a supe?" You shout at your brother as soon as he rolls up the window.

"Oh well, my friend is kind of important and Joe is just some extra security." Darren pulls the car into a parking spot just outside of the building. He says it like you're overreacting, but you didn't think you were. This entire situation was suspicious. "I told him you were a supe because he's just trying to keep my friend safe. He asked an honest question and I didn't want to lie to him."

Bullshit. Darren doesn't give a fuck about lying to other people.

Sometimes you even wondered if Darren gave a fuck about lying to you. That thought was usually brushed away by the reassertion that Darren was your brother and you trusted what he said.

But everything about this situation made you feel odd. You didn’t understand why Darren had to bring you here to meet his friend or why his friend wanted to meet you in the first place or why his friend seemed to need so much security. You'd never had one of Darren's friends ask to meet you before, most of the time you just showed up to meet Darren and they were there scratching something in public that they shouldn't be.

"Come on Darren, you know how much I hate telling people that I'm a supe-"

"Relax. It's already done, let's just move on." He waves a hand, ignoring you.

"Please, tell me what I'm doing here. This is more than me just meeting your friend."

"Hey." He brings his hand down on yours where it rests on the middle console. "I know you're nervous, but I would never do anything to hurt you." Darren's blue eyes are wide with sincerity. "Do you really think I would?"

"Well-" You bite the inside of your cheek.

He's your brother. He wouldn’t hurt you. You say it to reassure yourself, but it doesn’t stick completely.

"Come on." Darren sighs it as if he's genuinely upset that you thought he would. "I'm your brother, I'm your only family and I love you sis. I just want to do what's best for you. And my friend is really nice and he keeps saying that he wants to meet you. Not to mention he's loaded and I know that you struggle with things like that and he said that he'd help you out."

"What?" You sputter in surprise. "Why would he do that? Why would you talk to him about me?

"Because he's a nice guy and I like to brag about how amazing you are to everyone I meet." Darren smiles. "Now come on I don't want to keep Eli waiting and we're already late."

"Eli?"

It was the first time that Darren had used his friend's name and somewhere at the back of your mind it rang a bell.

"My friend. You're gonna love him. Come on I don't want to keep him waiting." Darren repeats as he gets out of the car first, but you stay in it for a second absorbing the entire situation.

You had half a mind to text Butcher or Annie, something about the whole situation made alarm bells go off in your head, and as mean as Ben had been, you wondered if he was right, if this was something you should be worried about.

And weirder still a piece of you wished that Ben was here with you. You didn't know why, but you did.

Instead of calling or texting someone, you discretely unlock your phone and check that the tracking software Annie and you downloaded to keep tabs on one another when you moved into the city was on. No one else knew about it, in fact the app was disguised as a period tracker on your home screen so if someone were to take your phone all they would see is another general app and they'd immediately pass over it. 

You'd never had to use it before in an emergency situation. Annie and you both used it when you went on a date with someone you barely knew as an extra precaution in case the guy turned out to be a freak or a secret cannibal. The horror stories you saw on the internet made you worry about that and the last thing you wanted to do was go on a date with a guy who had a taste for human flesh or wanted to turn you into a skin suit.

You open the passenger side door of the car and step out into the sunshine, tucking your phone into your pocket back pocket while looking up at the building. It glints a dull gray in the morning light, but the general appearance of the building does little to make you feel better about the whole situation. Memories of all the other times you met Darren's friends came flitting back across your mind, all of which occurred at a fast-food restaurant or a random poker game or a bar. Not to mention you'd never had one of his friends specifically ask to meet you before and you'd never met one in the middle of nowhere at a warehouse that was fenced in and patrolled by armed guards.

Darren adjusts the collar of his jacket flipping it down before he looks back at you. "Come on."

"Darren I don't think-"

Darren looks up to the sky with a heavy sigh as if your apprehension is annoying him. "Sis come on." He walks closer to you. "That asshole, Ben, is in your head. Are you really going to trust some random guy you live with or me? Your own flesh and blood?"

"Well-"

"Have I ever put you in a dangerous position before?"

"No."

"Exactly. I care about you so much and I would never do anything to hurt you." He takes your hand, eyes soft in the morning light. "I love you. You're the only family I have left that matters. And I promise if anything in there makes you uncomfortable we can leave. Just say the word."

"Really?"

"Yes." Darren nods once. "Fuck, sissy I'm not taking you here against your will. If you don't want to go in we don’t have to, but you said that you would come with me and you never break your word. Not to mention it would make me happy."

He's my brother. He loves me. He would never hurt me. It's going to be okay.

You let out a soft breath and squeeze his hand. "Okay."

Darren leads you to the thick metal door and opens it for you so you can walk in first and as soon as you do, you stop mid-step. The inside of the warehouse is covered with tables, but they're not empty, each table holds more weed plants than you can fit inside your entire apartment. The room is so green that you have to squint for a moment for your eyes to adjust from all the brightness outside. There are large fluorescent lights hanging above each table trying to give the plants the sunlight they need, but the plants don’t look good.

The plants are wilting, dying, and some have a strange black substance that fans out over the leaves in a vein-like pattern, choking the green that remains. Dead plants in piles are stacked on the edges of the room, already succumbing to whatever the hell was wrong with them.

You'd never seen a plant have something like that before. Even the energy given off by the plants is not the usual one you feel when surrounded by so many, it feels wrong, sickly, almost oppressive. You've never felt something that felt so wrong from any of the plants that you had encountered in the past.

You walk up to one of the tables, examining the black veins that are creeping along the gentle bend of the leaves up from the stalks. "What happened?"

"No idea." Darren shrugs. An unlit cigarette is perched between his lips and he's searching through his jacket pockets for his lighter. The one he'd had for years that looked like a silver dragon. "Eli said that he came back from somewhere and he found them like this."

"Oh."

"Do you think you can fix them?"

"What?" You turn to look at him incredulously. "This is weed. This is illegal why the fuck would I fix this?"

"Come on. Don’t be so high and mighty." Darren groans. "They're plants. You've told me countless times that you hate it when plants suffer. Well all of these are suffering!"

"Not the same thing!"

"You're telling me if Newton's dad's cornfield was suffering you wouldn't wave a hand and work some of that plant lover shit to save it?"

"That cornfield is his family's livelihood this is-"

"It's Eli's livelihood. It's how he makes so much money!"

"Is this why you brought me here?" You shout crossing your arms over your chest. "To fix all of these?"

"No. I wanted you to meet my friend and he's waiting for us so we might as well fucking go." Darren grouses, turning to walk up a rickety staircase that leads to the second level of the warehouse.

But you don’t believe him, because why else would Darren bring you to a place with a plant related problem, not to mention why would Darren get so angry when you refused to.

Did he really think I was going to fix an entire warehouse full of weed plants? The last thing I'm gonna do is help Eli cultivate his crop.

You weren't surprised that Darren's friend wasn't as above board as everyone else. You knew that your brother tended to get involved with people who weren't as law abiding, not to mention your brother's moral compass didn't always point North when it came to other people, but you didn't think that he would involve you in something like this.

Occasionally the moral boundaries you had were pushed when it came to what you did for Butcher, but at least he respected you when you said no.

Darren continues to stomp up the stairs angrily, another reason why you believed that Darren was lying to you.

He knew that if he mentioned any of this I would never come with him.

He throws open the door at the top of the stairs not bothering to knock and you follow behind him, fuming.

The room just inside is not what you were expecting. The entire wall to the left is made entirely of glass giving whomever is inhabiting the room an amazing view of the water beyond, water that you didn't realize was so close when Darren pulled up to the building. There's a giant wooden antique desk at the back at the room with a large maroon leather desk chair sitting behind it and two smaller leather chairs in front of the desk. A few bookshelves line the non-windowed walls, but there's no one else in the room, just Darren and you.

Where's his friend?

Darren sighs and exhales a breath of smoke, before he turns to look at you with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry sis. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I know that you've always been more on the straight and narrow than me and I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"What?" You weren't expecting him to sound so sorry, if anything you thought that your brother would have started yelling at you all over again. Why is he apologizing.

"Yeah." He rubs a free hand over the top of his buzzed hair sheepishly. "I shouldn't have gotten so mad about it. Of course you don’t have to do anything you don't want to do."

"Thank you." You sigh. "And I'm sorry. I do hate to see plants suffer, but that out there is different than what I do regularly."

"I know. And I don’t want you to be uncomfortable" Darren grabs your hand with his free hand, before he looks around the room. "Guess Eli is also running a little late huh?" He smiles and it reassures you that you've been forgiven.

"Yeah. Weird that he's not here. Especially when Joe said he was waiting for us and-"

"Oh shit!" Darren interrupts you, lets go of your hand and smacks himself on the forehead. "I completely forgot."

"Forgot what?"

He's frantically patting down his pockets looking for something. "I was supposed to call Richie. I told him I would and I-" He continues to check his pockets, the cigarette still burning between his lips. Darren talks around it. "Can I borrow your phone real quick? I think I left mine in the car."

"But-"

"Please it'll take like, two seconds. I told him that I'd meet up with him later and I want to take you to lunch after this to make up for all that shit." Darren nods his head back towards the door where the tables of weed plants are.

"Oh you don’t have to take me to lunch Darren, I can-"

"No." Darren smiles. "I want to. It’s the least I can do, driving you all the way out here and making you meet Eli."

"Um-" You look around the empty office expecting Eli to materialize out of nowhere. "Sure. But please make it quick. I don’t want to be in here alone with this random dude."

"He's not a random dude, he's my friend. And he's a gentleman, definitely a better person that that dick you have at your apartment." Darren waves a hand before he takes your phone. "You'll be fine. And we can go wherever you want for lunch."

You frown at Darren's comment about Ben as he disappears out the door and leaves you in the large office.

Honestly you did think that Ben could be a dick at times, but there were other times when he was almost sweet, well, sort of at least.

Not before he left today.

You think about what you yelled at him, about him needing people, but just wanting to push them away. That you were sure about. You believed that Ben did need people, but he had so many trust issues about everything that had happened in the past that it made him suspicious and not want to admit it to himself. That and you figured if he believed he was such a "manly man" he thought that it was ridiculous and feminine to admit that he needed someone.

Which again, you thought was stupid because you'd always seen emotional maturity in a man as an attractive trait. You liked when men could be vulnerable around you, you liked when they were honest, and you liked when they had the confidence and security to break around you so you could help them. And you found yourself wanting to help Ben, even though you thought you shouldn't.

He's not a bad guy, he's just got a ton of trust issues, machoistic ideas, and an inability to open up to anyone.

You tap your fingertip against your bicep where they were crossed in front of your chest and make your way to one of the bookshelves to look at the books. Some were antiques, others were versions of classics that you had read when you were a child, but you were sure that each volume was worth more than the apartment building you lived in. Some of the spines were so faded that you could just barely make out the flecked golden lettering and others were in another language that you couldn't understand.

Honestly, you could see yourself sitting in the big maroon chair curled up with one of these books, reading through the book with a large cup of tea while looking out over the water and admiring the iconic New York Skyline across the bay. It was a nice office, but your mind began to drift back to the quiet moments Ben and you shared a few days ago when you curled up on the couch beside him and read through your current obsession while he sat with the paper on the other side. It was nice and you were surprised that the two of you could share such a quiet moment together without ripping each other's heads off.

Maybe I should call and apologize. You think to yourself while you stroke your fingertip down one of the spines. I shouldn’t have said those things about his team or his son. And yes maybe he shouted some things at me too, but maybe he also feels bad and he's just not man enough to tell me that he's sorry. Or maybe he doesn’t give a fuck and he couldn’t care less about me.

The words he snarled at your brother, vibrate through your head again.

"Do whatever the fuck you want. It's not like I give a shit about her…"

You hear someone come through the door and because you expect it to be Darren, you don’t turn to look at him.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting darling." The voice says in a warm and low rumble, the ends tilting in an accent that you can't place. But your entire body freezes, because you knew that voice.

You slowly turn to look at the man who just entered the room eyes widening.

"Ms. Worthington. It is so nice to see you again. How was the drive?" Elijah Black asks with a pleasant smile, one eyebrow raised at you. "Not too much traffic I hope."

Elijah Black looks almost exactly the same way he did at the fundraiser a few days ago and the use of the fake last name you used only reminds you that he hadn't forgotten meeting you. His greying black hair curls behind his ears in waves that have been slicked back over his head. More of his sun-kissed golden skin is revealed to you, showing tattoos that curl up his muscular arms and disappear into the rolled up sleeves of his navy dress shirt. The top two buttons are unbuttoned revealing more of his muscular chest and the dark ink that swirls up from his pecs and licks up onto his collar bones. He's wearing a gold chain to offset the dark swirls of the tattoos, but he still is built like a body-builder, bigger than Ben across, not taller, but taller than you.

Oh fuck. This is not good.

You reach for your phone in your back pocket, prepared to send an emergency text to Butcher and Annie, the one you should have sent before when you were outside, but talked yourself out of. But then you remember that Darren still has your phone and he's not back yet.

"Mr. Black. Funny seeing you here." You clear the fear from your voice, fighting the shudder of fear when you watch Elijah's eyes trace up your figure, clinging to places that make you wish that you hadn’t worn something so tight.

"Please call me Elijah." He purrs, taking another step forward into the room. The door is closed behind him and Darren is gone. "I was disappointed when you used a fake name the other night. I was hoping to get to know you better." Elijah almost looks a little hurt, before his lips twitch into a smirk. "Of course Soldier Boy also seemed to be opposed to the idea, but he's not here now is he?"

"He's outside actually, just give him a second."

"You’re a terrible liar." Elijah chuckles. "I'd hate to see you try to play poker."

"Well give me a chance and I'm sure I'll surprise you."

Elijah is blocking the only exit. The windows could be an option, but it would mean that you’d have to throw something at it or you'd have to throw him through the window. You were strong, but not strong enough to do something like that. Not to mention you had a feeling that Elijah was a supe. The way he carried himself with a careful confidence seemed dangerous.

"Oh I can’t wait to see just how many surprises you have." His eyes trace up and down your body again in a way that makes your throat tighten and a wave of revulsion prickle over your skin. Even though you're wearing a long sleeved shirt and pants, you feel naked under his gaze.

"Darren said that Soldier Boy and you had a fight." Elijah taps his fingers against the edge of the wooden desk. "I hope he didn't hurt you."

Why did Darren tell Elijah that we had a fight? And where the fuck did my brother go?

"That's none of your business-" You say taking a step back moving around the back of the desk, preparing to run the other way and make a break for the door.

Elijah shrugs.  "I like to know everything about the women I get involved with."

"We're not involved. I don’t know a fucking thing about you." You spit backing away.

This is bad. This is very bad.

There weren't any plants in the room and you didn’t have any seeds with you. The other option would be the plants out in the warehouse, but each time you tried to reach for them, all you could feel was the sickly energy they had, and honestly it was making you feel a little bit nauseous. You’d never encountered that before, usually plants made you feel stronger, but they were all so sick that it was overwhelming your senses. You wondered if Elijah planned that.

"Well let's change that. I'd love for you to get to know me better." Elijah continues to move forward through the room slowly. "It’s a pity that the two of you had a spat, especially because you seem to care so much about him and he seems to care about you, and especially  because what he said must have hurt you, but I suppose it's better for me."

Ben doesn’t care about me, but Elijah doesn’t have to know that. If he knows who Ben really is, then he knows how dangerous he is, and if Elijah thinks that Ben will come to get me, that might be everything I need to make him back off.

"Why is that?" You inch around the table with Elijah following after you.

He's still smiling as if he believes that he's won.

"Because he won't come to save you if he hates you. Darren told me that the things you said to him were quite cruel. And I guess none of your team will be coming either."

Darren heard what we yelled at each other and he just pretended not to. He knew that Ben and I had a fight. He knows that Ben is Soldier Boy. Why would Darren do this? He's my brother-

"Of course my team will come to get me. They're on their way right now. And if I were you I'd let me go now, before this becomes an even bigger problem than it is." The lie isn’t completely out of your mouth before Elijah starts to laugh at you.

"No. They're all in Boston, including Soldier Boy." Elijah's smirk grows like the cat who caught the canary. "A thing about those anonymous tips, none of them seem to be that helpful. But Butcher wanted to catch that electric buffoon so badly I thought I might as well give him a push, not in the right direction unfortunately. I was hoping that Solider Boy and you would catch him the other night. He's been causing some trouble for me. Someone like him is bad for business, especially when I'm expanding into auto-motives."

"Oh no. The drug business isn't working out for you? So sad." You snark eyes flicking to the window for a minute and wondering if you could grab a chair and throw it out before he stopped you.

Elijah looks delighted. "I see you've noticed the problem. A rival of mine broke in and poisoned them, and instead of throwing away that much product and wasting more money I thought of you."

"What about me?"

"Well, your brother mentioned something in a game about his sister being able to 'make plants grow.' Honestly, your brother has a problem keeping his mouth shut about lots of things, but I was intrigued. He didn't see the value of such a gift as I did. And when Darren accumulated such a large sum of debt after the game I offered a deal."

"And what deal is that?" You take another step back, not looking away from Elijah.

"You."

Your entire body goes cold. "He wouldn't do that. My brother wouldn't do that to me. He wouldn’t give me to you as fucking payment!"

Because that was what Elijah was suggesting, he was suggesting that Darren would use you to pay off his gambling debts. Darren had done some shitty things in the past, but this seemed to be too much for him.

He wouldn’t do that to me. I'm his sister not some stranger. Darren is a lot of things, but that is too cold to consider.

"Oh my darling." Elijah sighs and throws you a pitying look. "He did. Do you really think he had to call someone? That he left his phone in the car? He needed your phone so you wouldn't call Butcher." Elijah looks at you as if you're a kicked puppy in need of solace. "But don't worry. I always take care of my toys, especially ones that are as beautiful as you."

"If you touch me I'm going to-" You begin to snarl at him

"You've got spirit." He smiles continuing to move towards you as you back away towards the door. "It always makes it more fun. More of a challenge to break."

"Stay away from me."

"I can't wait for you to beg for me to touch you."

"I mean it." You leap backward to grab the doorhandle, but as you do Elijah lunges across the room, grabbing your right arm to pull you away from the door.

He's still holding on and you bring your foot up between his legs hoping to find something soft, but when you do Elijah only laughs and tightens his grip on your arm and you hear a high-pitched snap that vibrates through your body.

At first you don’t understand what the sound was, but a wave of pain surges up and you realize the high pitched snap was the sound of your right arm breaking. The nausea comes roaring back, but the pain is almost excruciating as you try to pull your now broken arm from his grasp.

"Don't worry." Elijah purrs again. "I'm going to take good care of you."

And it's the last thing you hear as everything goes dark.

Soldier Boy POV

4 Days Later…

Ben leaned back in the faded floral cloth armchair in the corner of the crowded motel room, his head thrown against the back of the chair, as he takes a hit from the blunt in between his thumb and forefinger.  The other people in the room continue to bicker and shout at one another pouring over a map and a laptop on the lone table pressed under the window in the corner of the room and it was ruining his buzz.

It had been four days since Ben had been shoved into the back of a car and taken to Boston, four days of listening to Butcher bitch and moan about why none of them could locate the electric supe, and four days since Ben had last seen you.

He exhales a cloud of smoke remembering the conversation the two of you had before he left. Honestly, he hadn’t meant to make you cry and he had no idea where any of what he shouted at you came from, but he was just so damn frustrated about the way your asshole brother was treating you and how damn trusting you were that he just exploded.

Everything he told you, he thought was obvious and something that you could see for yourself. And yet you stood there, eyes wide with tears, while he shouted those things at you and then you had the audacity to yell back at him.

He'd never met anyone so completely clueless and trusting before and it was infuriating. He hated that you let that asshole use you, hated how submissive you got whenever your brother brought up the fact that he was your only family, and Ben hated how you couldn’t see what was directly in front of your face.

All he'd wanted to do was tell you to be careful, and instead he insulted you. And then he'd had to listen to you cry to yourself quietly in your room like you also hadn't insulted him.

Why the fuck do I give a shit? She's just being damn hormonal and never wants to listen to anyone, but herself.

Ben's frown deepens when he remembers what you shouted back at him. He'd never allowed anyone to speak to him that way, then again no one had ever had the balls to and he respected that. Well, respected it, but wished you would fucking stop.

Worse still was that Ben didn't understand why he couldn't stop thinking about you. He'd never had that happen before, usually all it took to get a woman out of his mind was a quick fuck with whatever walked by, but that hadn't worked when he tried it last night.

He'd changed his location on tinder and gone out with a girl who looked nothing like you, and seemed to be the stupidest person Ben had ever met. This time he had bought her dinner, and Ben could feel himself zoning out while she talked about nothing at all. He thought of you while she talked, thought about how you always seemed to speak with purpose and how when you spoke about things they always seemed interesting and important. Not to mention he liked it when you talked because he wanted to learn more about you. You were so different than the women he'd met over the years and it was refreshing. Ben didn't like that he felt that way. He'd never been one for talking, he thought it was fucking boring, but for some reason talking to you was different.

The only time his date shut up was when Ben took her back to her apartment and yet on the walk home all Ben could think of is if you were okay. He didn't like that he had left you with your brother and he had been debating to tell Butcher to fuck off and follow Darren and you, but he hadn't wanted to after you said all that shit about his son and his old team.

Why the fuck do I give a shit what happens to her? All we do is live together. I'm not fucking her, I'm not-

He wasn't used to worrying about someone else, but he was worried about you and again Ben didn’t like it. He didn't like it so much that he almost walked back around the block to his previous date's apartment to see if she was ready to go for round three, but he didn't. Instead he went back to the motel room and tried to sleep, but he couldn't.

Over the past four days, each time Annie's phone rang or chirped he perked up hoping that it was you on the other line and every time it wasn't he seemed to sink further into the chair.

Ben puffed on the joint, but it wasn't as soothing as it had been in the past. The buzz wasn't taking the edge off the thoughts he had of you and it only pissed him off more.

Ben hadn't ever met anyone like you before. You were different and most of the time he never understood you, but he liked that about you. He liked that you were different than all the other women he had met in the past and he liked that you seemed to surprise him. He also thought that was why he liked talking to you, because he wanted to learn more about you so he could understand more.

Ben had never wanted to do that with anyone before, most of the time he just moved on, but not you. As much as he hated to admit it, it was making him want to spend more time around you, because you were interesting, odd, but interesting.

Especially because you kept refusing to sleep with him. It was a point of pride for him, being able to work whoever he wanted into bed with him, but not you. He had tried time and time again to get you to sleep with him using every trick in the book and yet, nothing.

Ben's mind flashes back to the other night at the party when you told him that you wouldn’t sleep with him was because you thought he "threw women away." It struck a nerve more than he thought it would when you said that to him. In fact, women had said similar things to him in the past, but he'd only laughed in their faces, but when you said it to him, it hit something deep inside that he thought he had locked away a long time ago. And weirder still Ben didn’t like it when you said that he wasn't "one for relationships" as if he couldn’t do it if he really tried.

I can do anything.

Ben downs the scotch in his other hand considering what you said and thinks of Countess. He thought that he'd loved her, he'd been in a relationship with her, an open one, but still it was something.

He remembered when you said that sex meant something to you and Ben had never met someone who felt that way before. Someone who thought that sex was special and should be shared with someone you loved. It was weird for him to consider that and Ben supposed that the only way he was ever going to have sex with you was if you fell in love with him or if he fell in love with you.

Yeah, like that'll fucking happen.

He rolled his eyes at the thought. He didn't think that he'd ever be able to fall in love with someone like you. Not with someone who infuriated him as much as you did and was so different than him in every way. Not when you made him angry and annoyed all the time because you refused to listen, talked back, and yelled at him.

The memory of you in his arms when he woke up four days ago surfaces and Ben swallows. He was going to kiss you, and you were going to let him, he knew it.

When he'd kissed you outside of your apartment the first night he came home with you, he'd only done it to make Mike leave you alone, but he hadn't expected to like it so much. And he'd wanted to kiss you badly when he woke up next to you. He thought you looked cute, your body soft against his, your hair flaring out over the pillow, your eyes wide, and your lips supple and welcoming. He'd wanted to trace his thumb over your lower lip, wanted to taste your lips again, and lose himself in everything you were.

I sound like a fucking pussy.

Ben sighed to himself again and closed his eyes, hoping to drown out his thoughts of you with the conversation Butcher and Annie were having over the laptop. MM was cleaning a gun and glaring at Ben while Kimiko and Frenchie were talking in rapid fire sign language that Ben couldn't understand and he wished you were there to translate or at least there to talk to him.

It's always so boring when she's not here.

Ben froze, thumb and middle finger pressed tightly on the blunt. He'd never done that before, never wanted a woman around to talk to, but that was what he meant. Even with Countess it was different. He wanted her around for a good fuck but they didn't talk about anything important and they certainly didn't sit around on the couch and watch his old films and he never sat with her while she read a book.

Ben's mind went back to the other day when you'd sat with him quietly on the other side of the couch, your gaze so focused on the pages of a book that you hadn't seen him watch you read. He noticed that when you did, you sometimes stopped breathing, like you'd forgotten that you needed to and whatever was in the book was more important than oxygen and that you sometimes formed the words with your lips as you did. Ben didn't know why he thought it was so interesting when you read, but he couldn’t look away. Sometimes during the day he'd have some free time from Butcher and he'd walk past the plant shop to see what you were doing and would see you sitting at the counter reading to yourself. He always thought about going inside, but you looked so peaceful that he didn’t want to interrupt you.

It was better than when he found you talking with that idiot Jake. Ben rolled his eyes to himself at the thought of your boss.

He definitely wants to fuck her. Ben sighs crossing his legs. And she wants him to. She shouldn't. She needs someone that'll actually be able to handle her. That guy's built like a fucking twig, not to mention he's not a supe.

Ben's jaw tightened with the thought of walking in on the two of you fucking in the apartment. You had made a rule about Ben not having any women there, but you'd never said anything about you bringing back someone. You hadn't yet and Ben hoped that you wouldn't bring Jake there anytime soon. His grip on the arm of the chair tightens to the point that he pierces through inside to the stuffing. Ben wasn't sure he'd be able to go into the apartment to listen to the two of you, let alone smell him all over you when you were done.

It was bad enough when you'd come back to the apartment smelling like the plant guy and Ben didn't want to experience what it was like after you'd had sex with him and have to smell him all over you. That also made him a little confused. Ben had fucked plenty of women who had significant others, women who threw themselves at him, and he hadn't cared about sharing. Not to mention Ben didn't get jealous, ever, whenever Countess had messed around with someone else at Herogasm Ben would watch, but with you… The sound of the arm of the chair breaking in his hand is audible when he thinks about someone else touching you, but no one else notices.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I care? She's infuriating! And she's always so damn angry with me all the time that I'm pretty sure she'd never let me kiss her ever again let alone touch-

"Hello?" Annie held her phone up to her ear interrupting Ben's train of thought. "Oh hey Jake what's-"

Ben perked up at the sound of Jake's name with a frown. He hoped again that while he was gone you wouldn't sleep with him.

"I'm worried, I haven't heard anything from her and she didn't come in for her shift this morning." Ben heard Jake say on the other side of the line referring to you.

His muscles tensed slightly. Ben hadn’t wanted to leave you there with your brother, something about the guy made him antsy. Ben had met men like him in the past, men who used things like family and love to manipulate people into caring about him. He knew that  Darren was your brother and you were just so kind and open that you would do whatever he asked without question. 

Darren knew that. He knew exactly what to say to her to get her to give in.

Ben wondered how much you’d let Darren get away with in the past and quietly made a promise to himself that he wouldn't let Darren get anything out of you ever again for as long as Ben was around.

"Do you think she's running late?" Annie asks diplomatically, but Ben doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows scrunch together and the worried look she throws Hughie who is sitting across the table looking up at her.

"Not three hours. I tried to text her and when she texted back the message was weird." Jake presses.

"What do you mean weird?"

"Well, she used a lot of emoji's and she never does that."

Ben watched Annie's smile pull down into a frown. "Huh. Here I'm going to try to call her and I'll call you back okay."

"Sure."

Annie hangs up the phone and scrolls her finger on the screen to find your number.

"Everything alright?" Hughie asks leaning back in his chair.

"I'm not sure." Annie puts the phone up to her ear again.

Ben can hear the ringing on the other side of the line and he finds himself leaning forward, waiting for you to answer.

"Come on. Pick up the phone." Annie whispers while tapping her foot on the ground.

When you don't she opens the text thread of messages the two of you have and texts you. When you moved to the city the two of you had come up with phrases and words that you used to warn each other of danger. Annie insisted on it. Two single women living in a big city meant that the two of you were targets even if you were supes and as capable as the two of you felt handling your own, it was a comfort to have someone else.

Annie: Hey babe! I'm thinking about dying my hair blue again. Thoughts?

She waited patiently staring at the screen. Ben couldn't help but watch her with interest, he didn't know what was going on, only that Annie seemed to be worried. Something that he had never seen her be.

You: Hey girl! I think you should go for it! You always rock it.

Ben hears Annie's sharp intake of breath and rises from his chair understanding that something is wrong.

"Fuck." Annie mutters.

In middle school as an act of rebellion, Annie had tried to dye her hair blue with a box of cheap hair dye the two of you bought at the pharmacy in town while Annie's mother was away. But when it was done, something had obviously gone wrong. The dye must have been old or maybe just too cheap to do any good because it had dyed Annie's hair a vomit colored green. And to make matters worse, Annie had a terrible allergic reaction. It was that day the two of you realized that she was allergic to the chemicals most hair dyes. Her entire head had swelled up and she had to go to the Emergency Room.

Not to mention when Annie's mother showed up she told Annie she "deserved it" for doing that to her hair. The only way the Doctors could help her was to wash her hair out with bleach and then when that didn't work they cut it all off.

Annie had to wear itchy wigs for months after.

The correct response you were supposed to have was:

"Fuck no. Do you want to shave your head again?"

"Butcher-" Annie says raising her eyes from her phone.

"Yeah?" He doesn't look up from the map in front of him, trying to find out where the supe is hiding.

"We have to go back." She touches his shoulder to get his attention.

"Why?" Butcher looks at her annoyed, and he was. He had devoted a lot of man power to finding this supe and a lot of his own personal time. The last thing he was going to do is to come up empty handed.

Annie says your name. "Is in trouble."

"What do you mean?" Ben asks.

"She didn't show up to work today and she never just skips." Annie explains. "And we have code messages we made and she answered wrong." She holds out her phone to show Butcher the text thread.

“Hair dye?” Butcher still doesn’t look convinced.

“She knows I’m allergic. And she didn’t show up to work today.”

“Maybe she slept in-“ Butcher didn't want to drive all the way back to NYC for no reason, not when he believed he was close to catching the electric supe.

“She loves that job. And yes maybe she runs late, but she’d never just vanish or not go into work without calling Jake.” Annie pulls her phone back and begins to swipe through.

“What are you doing?” Ben questions. By now he could feel something unfamiliar tightening in his chest, a weird feeling that he couldn't place.

“We share our locations with one another.” Annie replies typing something on her phone. “I just have to find the app and-“ She looks down at the screen for a moment before raising it so Butcher can see. “See look! Why would she be all the way in Brooklyn?” 

“Maybe that’s where her brother took her.” Ben grunts taking another puff from the joint in his fingers, hoping that it will relieve some of the weird tension he was feeling, but it doesn't.

Annie swivels her head around to glare at Ben so fast he gets whiplash. "Wait a minute. Darren's in town? Why didn't you say anything?"

“Yeah. Fucker spent the night four days ago.”

“And you left her with him alone?"

“He was going to take her to meet his friend-”

“For fucks sake Ben, why didn’t you just slather her in honey and tie her to an ant hill?" Annie shouts waving her hands dramatically at him.

Guess she doesn't like him either.

"Well-"

Annie isn't interested in what he has to say, instead she begins to type something on her phone and raises it one final time to her ear.

"Where the fuck is she?" Annie snarls into the phone and it doesn’t take Ben much time to figure out that she's called Darren.

"Who?" The voice of your brother fills the phone and Ben's hands clench together into fists at his sides.

Ben can tell he's lying from just one word and he feels rage begin to replace the odd feeling, licking up against the walls of his chest like an unquenchable fire.

"You know who you fucking leech." Annie spits.

"I don’t know. I took her back to her place after she met my friend. Think they hit it off." Darren sounds casual and Ben can almost imagine the sick smirk on his face.

"If you’re lying, I’m going to roast you alive like the pig you are."

"Oh baby the way you talk to me."

"Darren I’m serious."

"I don’t understand why you’re getting your panties in a wad Annie. She’s fine. I took her back to the plant shop four days ago after she met my friend, because she wanted to go to work. I haven’t heard from her since."

"Darren-" Annie begins to say, but Ben crosses the room so fast he didn't remember moving and snatches the phone from Annie.

"Listen to me you little shit." Ben growls into the phone. "If she's fucking hurt I am going to show you what it's like to be turned inside out."

"Whoa easy there Benny boy I don’t know who the fuck you think you are but-"

"For your sake I hope you're telling the truth, because if you're not there's going to be no where for you to hide from me and there's not going to be enough left of you to wipe up with a tissue." Ben hits the off button on the phone call and as he does he realizes that everyone in the room is staring at him with wide eyes, but he ignores it.

"Oi what the fuck was that mate?" Butcher says, but Ben ignores him.

"You can either give me the fucking keys to your car or I can take them from what's left of you." Ben snarls. "You get to pick."

Butcher eyes him for a minute, considering. "Come on yank, let's go."

A/N: And we have the reappearance of Elijah Black who is just as creepy as he was the first time. Maybe more? Wanted to throw in a little bit of Ben POV because it's a lot of fun to write and he's just so conflicted about everything, not to mention just as clueless as the reader when it comes to how he really feels.

As always thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are not required, but are always appreciated. Feedback is always welcome. If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series please let me know :)

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[scotianostra]

June 10th 1768 saw construction start on the Forth and Clyde canal, it was to take 22 years to complete.

The building of a canal across Scotland was first discussed during the reign of Charles II. It was not until the mid-1700s that the building of the Forth and Clyde Canal or “The Great Canal” as it was referred to then, became an actual possibility with funding being raised to carry out the work. The canal was to be built across the Central Belt of Scotland from east to west. The first spadeful was dug out in June 10th 1768 and the construction continued for 22 years including a 7 year period when no work was carried out due to lack of funds. It was the Canal Company’s policy to try to recruit locally to provide employment in the areas the canal crossed.

The work was hard and was manual labour with the use of picks and shovels to dig out heavy wet earth. Wages were about 10d (£0.04p) per day and the workers were a tough lot. Discipline was often hard to maintain and drink was cheap and plentiful causing various problems. Theft of tools and other equipment was common and often the workers were seasonal due to also working in the agricultural land surrounding the canal works. None the less the work was done and the canal was dug. Water was first let into the canal in 1773 when it was filled as far as Kirkintilloch, which increased this town’s profile with additional trades appearing in the area. It was 2 years later that the canal opened as far as Stockingfield, Maryhill. A cut was also made towards Glasgow as far as Hamiltonhill and then funds ran short and worked stopped for 7 years.

In 1784 work resumed when the Government of the time approved a loan of £50,000 to the Canal Company, the money coming from the Forfeited Estates Fund (a legacy of the Jacobite Rebellion in 1745) and this allowed the canal to reach Bowling. The Forth and Clyde Canal was opened from the Firth of Forth to the Firth of Clyde in the summer of 1790 with the first boat navigating its channel in August of that year.

The length of the Canal from eastern sea lock to the western sea lock was 35 miles. In 1791 the Glasgow Branch was extended from Hamiltonhill to Port Dundas giving it a length of 3.5 miles. There are 39 locks to navigate on the canal with 20 locks on the eastern section the firth of Forth to Wyndford and 19 on the western section from Maryhill to Bowling on the Firth of Clyde. The canal was crossed by many bascule bridges and made use of aqueducts such as the one over the Luggie at Kirkintilloch and the river Kelvin in Glasgow.

The canal served three main purposes. It allowed seagoing vessels passage from east to west or vice versa, therefore avoiding the long passage around the north of Scotland. It provided the fast movement of goods. Agricultural produce, mineral resources and locally produced goods could be transported more easily across Scotland. It also acted as a way for travellers to move across Scotland using “Swift” boats that linked to coach services.

The Forth and Clyde Canal had an active life into the years of the Second World War though by this time railways were carrying more goods around the country. Trade was slowly falling away though transits through the canal and day tripping continued. Eventually on 1 January 1963 the Forth and Clyde Canal closed to through traffic.

As part of the millennium celebrations in 2000, National Lottery funds were used to regenerate both canals. A boat lifting device, the Falkirk Wheel, was built to connect the Union and Forth & Clyde canals and once more allow boats to travel from the Clyde or Glasgow to Edinburgh, with a new canal connection to the River Carron and hence the River Forth. The Falkirk Wheel opened on 27th May 2002 and is now a tourist attraction. The Helix project, which includes the magnificent Kelpies is also part of this ongoing regeneration.

[redpenship]

(part of buzzsaw dilemma chap 2)

Robotnik took the pencil and flipped one of the worksheets to the blank side. “Mobian and English look the same because Mobian adopted the Roman alphabet. We call this process romanization. Before this happened, there was no standard writing system among animals from different regions. Here, let me show you.”

He drew two different symbols side-by-side. One was square shaped, while the other was round and long.

“These symbols look different, but they are effectively the same word. The symbol on the left is from the Westside Island dialect, where it means ‘animal’ and sounds like Mobi-Nab. The symbol on the right is from South Island. It also means ‘animal’ and sounds like Mobi-Kuhn.” Robotnik wrote the phonetic spellings below the symbols. “The dialects are similar enough that anyone from the two islands can communicate verbally, but written communication used to be nearly impossible before the writing system was romanized. Do you understand why?”

Miles nodded. “Yeah. I wouldn’t be able to read anything from a different place.” 

“Exactly. Using the alphabet built a bridge for written communication that wasn’t possible before,” Robotnik said. “English and Mobian simply use the same letters. Aside from a few loan words, the similarities end there.” 

Part of the explanation piqued Miles' interest. “Loan words?”

With another sigh, Robotnik wrote two words on the paper. “Read those out loud to me.” 

“Person and animal.” Miles had seen the words before in books, but he didn’t quite understand them. “What do they mean?”

“An animal is like a flicky. A person is like you.”

Miles frowned. “I thought I was an animal.” 

“Yes, but also no. In the same way we distinguish an animal from a person, we must also distinguish humans from big animals like you. In these cases, you are a Mobian. Not an animal, not a human: Mobian. Do you understand?”

After some thought, Miles nodded. “I think so. And Mobians are people?”

“Correct. Mobians are people, too,” Robotnik said. “A person is smarter than an animal. You can read, and think in sentences, and use hard logic to solve problems. Animals can’t do that.”

Hm. Miles could understand the distinction, but he didn’t like it. It felt mean and unnecessary. 

“I don’t see the point. Animals and people aren’t too different.”

Robotnik pointed to the two symbols for animal on the paper. “In Mobian dialects, the local variation of Mobi is used to refer to both people and animals. They do not have separate terms. Context is the only way to understand which one is being spoken about. That tends to get lost in translation—especially so in writing. The English words were introduced for the sake of clarity.” 

In that case, maybe Miles could understand why the distinction was necessary. There were times when he meant to refer to little animals, and times when he meant to refer to bigger animals—Mobians—like himself. In these situations, having the words animal and person would probably make things easier to explain. It still didn’t feel right, but he could at least wrap his head around it. 

“What’s the difference between Mobians and humans?” Miles asked. He didn’t know much about humans outside of rumours. They seemed to live quite differently from animals, so he’d always been curious about them. 

Miles had expected a fast response like usual, but Robotnik took a few moments to think over his answer. He didn’t look confused, just . . . pensive. 

Finally, he spoke.

“When I chose these islands as the starting point for my empire, I spent years learning everything I could about your species. There were a wide range of resources to study—humans have spent millions of dollars on research trying to understand the difference between us. I read just about everything I could get my hands on. Then I went to South Island to build my first base and realized everything I had learned was wrong.” 

Curious, Miles scooted forward in his chair a little. “Wrong?”

“Yes, all wrong! Everything humans believe about Mobian society is either incorrect or greatly exaggerated." Robotnik crossed his arms with a huff. “All of our research is intent on making you seem as alien as possible. After I conducted my own research, I realized that we were more alike than I’d previously believed. There are differences between us, sure. But none of them are particularly meaningful."

Slowly, Miles nodded along to what Robotnik was saying. Humans had also seemed pretty alien to him, so it was good to know that they were mostly the same. They just looked a bit different from each other, that was all. 

[the-concrete-sage]

Love on Loan… Pt3 Love is hard on the heart It’s like stumbling around in the dark You find the one, they rip out your heart And all you’re left with are pieces and scars This shit happens so fast And you think, maybe this will last But It can tear your world apart Because loving someone it is an art The balancing of the light and the dark Love authentically Love gently Love plentifully Love with sincerity Make sure you get the same in return Make sure that they’re still open to learn Make sure no bridge you cross is left to burn Make sure your loyalty is something to earn Always make time to just do you Always do your best to stay true Always know there’s a way to get through Always walk away if you need to

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[thislovintime]

(Photo 3 by Henry Diltz/Corbis/Getty Images).

Content warning: mentions of alcoholism/addiction.

“‘I don't mean to paint such a bleak picture of [the 1960s],’ Tork said. ‘I still felt I was in the vanguard, along with a bunch of other people. I was pretty happy. I had a circle of friends, and it was a lot of fun. God knows, I went through a lot of scenes and found out what I needed to find out, which is, for instance, that orgies are nice, but they're only temporary and they're not fulfilling.’ Tork's infamous orgies were held at the Hollywood house he bought in 1968, previously the property of comedian Wally Cox. At the height of his fame, Tork could have paid for it in cash, but was advised against it. So he took out a huge loan and spent his money redecorating. In the master bedroom Tork's bed was eight feet by eight feet with a foam mattress six inches thick. He had a four-place bathtub put into the bathroom, along with a sauna. He had Mexican tiles laid. He carved his initials into the shower stall. There was red plush carpeting throughout the house, a wet bar in the foyer, six-by-nine-foot picture window in the living room overlooking the San Fernando Valley. The film room was a splendiferous workshop of sandblasted natural wood that housed Tork's resident filmmaker manqué. The screen covered the entire wall, offering a ten-by-twelve-foot platform for the flower of psychedelia's exploding visuals – viewed by exploding heads of all chemical persuasions, days on end. Just down the hall and across a bridge was another wing of the house. Downstairs was a cabana, leading to a fifty-foot pool. There were no houses behind his, so many people preferred to dive into the pool nude – straight out of his bathroom window. ‘I'd rather have nude swimming,’ reflected Tork; ‘it's much easier. There's a certain charge to bodies if they're covered up, and if you remove that, it takes a lot of that extra energy out of things.’ Originally, Tork brought a girl friend to live with him at the house. Then his filmmaker friend moved in. He was followed by a young woman and her son. Later a friend of his girl friend stayed there. When Tork quit the Monkees toward the end of 1968, his new group, Peter Tork and/or Release, moved in. Often, wandering downstairs of an early afternoon. Tork would come upon two or three strange bodies asleep in the walk-in fireplace. But that was all right. At the same time, it wasn't all right. ‘If you're fixed on the notion that an orgy is going to fulfill you, and one doesn't do it, you're going to try a hundred. If orgies don't do it, maybe drugs will. Like the fixated person I was then, I went from one thing to another. I had to try everything: flower power, dope, orgies, fast cars.’ His sternest nemesis was alcohol. ‘In the beginning drinking was a lot of fun,’ said Tork. ‘I have some memories of things that I did drunk that I never would have done sober, that I guess I always sort of wanted to do. But drinking isn't selective. It doesn't let you do exactly what you want to do and keep you from doing the things you don't want to do. Furthermore, at a certain point, and I think with certain personality types, it's addictive. You find you cannot drink moderately any longer. It finally reached a point with me where it was obvious that I was going to die if I kept up with it. I was never hospitalized, but I could see the path. I realized I was out of control.’”- When The Music Mattered (1984)

“During his comeback Tork discovered ‘too much chemistry' (drugs, not the high school course) was beginning to blur the faculties and waste the resources, financially, physically, spiritually, morally and emotionally. ‘Then a miracle happened. I found, “The Difference.” ‘I can’t name “The Difference” for a dozen reasons,’ Tork added, ‘one of which is that no name sounds the same to everybody. If I said, “God,” a lot of people — a previous self of mine included — would say, “Oh, spare me your sanctimonious bull.” If I say, “the cosmic patterning,” then it would be “Oh, spare me your hippie-dippy bull.”’ Okay. Call it ‘The Difference’ and be done with it. What difference did it make? ‘I was crazy,‘ Tork said. ‘I was behaving crazily. It wasn’t like I was a moral leper. I was just addictive and feeding my habit. Then one day I looked at the chemicals in my hand — in that case a bottle of beer — and I saw that I was not in charge. When I finally realized that, that’s when I began to recover. Since then I have been able to avoid the use and abuse of all chemicals, primarily and including alcohol.’” - The Cincinnati Enquirer, October 20, 1983

“I was very fortunate because I found myself to be an alcoholic and there is a community that is out to help and who will love you just because you’re an alcoholic who wants to get better. That was the beginning of my retrieval as a human being. Otherwise I’d be a bubbling pile of protoplasm in the gutter someplace.” - Peter Tork, Toxic Fame (1996)

“‘I have to say, I did anticipate it [what the interviewer called ‘Beatle-esque global mania’],’ shrugs Tork. ‘But what I never thought I’d see was us still being around 45 years later. ‘I didn’t even think I’d live to see 45.’” - Wales Online, May 13, 2011

“I didn’t know I’d ever be 50 years old.” - Peter Tork, ITN, September 2, 2015

“‘[Alcohol] that’s the one that nabbed me,’ Tork said. ‘Booze was my friend. The worries of the world sloughed off.’ 
One day Tork decided to start keeping a record of his drinking and soon found himself drinking in excess of 12 beers a day. 
 ‘But I wasn’t an alcoholic. Because when I was in jail, I couldn’t drink it and I was alright. When I was in the hospital, I couldn’t have it, and it didn’t bother me,’ Tork said. 
 The realization came one day while in New York when he found himself with a beer in his hand and suddenly realizing he had a problem. He talked to his wife and admitted to her that he had a problem and needed help. Tork praised the Drug Court system and other drug-recovery organizations. 
‘I could have died in agony or distress,’ Tork said. ‘But this, this is humbling. This stuff — Drug Court — this moment, standing in front of you — this is the other side.’” - visaliatimesdelta.com, October 29, 2010 

“He's been sober for almost 30 years, and recently took time to address graduates of a drug court in California as part of his theory that recovery from any addiction is incomplete without service to others. 
‘I have been given a huge treasure: to not have to drink, which was my experience,’ he says. ‘It was obliged, it was mandatory. To be relieved of that imperative is an enormous gift, a jewel beyond price. There is no amount of money to make me give it up. What would I do with the money? ... And to keep this gift is to deny it to others.’” - Pittsburgh Tribune-Review, November 4, 2010

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

[deleted scene: Cao Cao visits Dong Zhuo for the first time]

The Prime Minister had not asked him to sit, so Cao Cao remained standing. He had been summoned to Dong Zhuo’s house on very short notice and was still wearing the courtly regalia, having just left a cabinet meeting. The ambiguity of the situation worried him. 

Dong Zhuo’s bodyguard offered no clues either; the big man just stared resolutely ahead, looking very much like a statue except for the fact that he occasionally blinked.  Cao Cao quickly cast his mind back to the last few weeks. He had made sure to throw his support behind the usurper early on, both to guarantee his own safety and to get closer to the enemy. While his conduct had been irreproachable thus far, it was not particularly noteworthy. 

Dong Zhuo poured himself a steaming hot cup of wine, and Cao Cao felt his mouth water a little. It had been a long day. He wanted to go home, take off his uncomfortable hat and maybe visit a brothel before resigning himself to an equally long night of drafting bills and reading reports. God, he hadn’t seen the surface of his writing desk since autumn. There was more bamboo in his house than in the Yibin  Forest. The next person to utter the words “I move to veto—” was going to be bludgeoned to death with their own tablet . 

Dong Zhuo finished his drink and swept his hand over a pile of discarded reports lying on the table, “Come here, Minister Cao. I would like to hear your opinion on a small matter.” 

“I’ll be honored to, Your Excellency,” a small matter could have been anything from famine, riots, or potholes in the main road—and they all stood the same chance of being fixed; none. 

Cao Cao quickly skimmed the memo on the table, upside down. Untimely cold weather. Another projected grain shortage. “Your Excellency, it’s very likely the harvests will fail again this year. We must start importing rice from the South to make up for the difference. If we act quickly, we may avoid a disaster.” 

Dong Zhuo pinched the bridge of his nose, “what will this cost?” 

“At least eight-hundred catties of gold, Your Excellency.” Cao Cao purposefully said the highest number first. 

“A steep price.”

“It is cheaper than suppressing a riot, Your Excellency.”

 “That’s why I have soldiers!” Dong Zhuo snapped, his mood suddenly sour. “Why the hell should I fork over all that gold? Good, sharp steel will do the job just fine!”

Because we’re sitting on a gigantic tinder pile, and just one spark will set it ablaze. 

“I might have a solution,” Cao Cao said pleasantly, “if His Excellency permits it, I will personally write a letter on your behalf. With the Prime Minister’s authority, we can pay five-hundred gold upfront and ask for the rest on loan. We can either repay it next year with our wheat or use this time to devise a better plan.” 

Take it. Take it, you greedy, short-sighted fool. We can’t eat gold. 

“Fine. I permit it.” 

“His Excellency is most wise.” 

“I expect to see a bill drafted by tonight, Minister.”  

Cao Cao frowned; he was all too familiar with human nature. “No, Excellency, this information cannot be circulated in court. We must suppress the news and keep the prices as low as possible. If the noble families discover an impending shortage, they’ll start panic-buying out of fear or start hoarding grain in the hopes of making a profit. What food we have will be used up twice as fast, perhaps before the first shipment of rice arrives.” 

Cao Cao stopped himself there, suddenly aware that he’d been dangerously close to lecturing the Prime Minister. Dong Zhuo said nothing for a moment. He picked up the bronze pitcher of wine and poured two fresh cups. 

“You have a singular mind, Cao Mengde,” said Dong Zhuo. Cao Cao was surprised to hear his courtesy name instead of his official title. He looked up and found the Prime Minister holding out the second cup of wine, a gleam in his eye, “drink.”

Notes under the cut:

Ended up cutting this for Plot Reasons, but I thought it would be an interesting side bar. Dong Zhuo is more intimidating and Cao Cao has not had as much practise being manipulative and unctuous.

Dong Zhuo: Mengde you're an incredibly ruthless, self-serving man with a negative outlook on humanity. All the qualities I like! Lets be bffs henceforth!

Yibin forrest: Books and reports were written on bamboo slats

Tablet: Ministers took notes on tablets 笏 hù, bamboo for lesser ministers, ivory for noblemen. After the proliferation of paper in the Jin Dynasty they became largely ceremonial. 

Food shortage: This isn’t based in any kind of real policy, but we recently had an egg shortage that was exacerbated by panic-buying. It's unethical, but I often wonder what would happen if these shortages weren’t announced, would the result be better? I thought it would fit Cao Cao's personality, he is very decisive and has a skeptical view of people.

The 3k period coincided with a period of cold weather (micro climate change) which caused famines exacerbated by corruption and poor management. IDK how wheat vs rice would actually be affected but im assuming the colder, northern areas would take a bigger hit.

I don't know how money works in this time period. if anyone has a good resource pls dm me.

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[ryangrieves]

I leverage my future ability to produce labor for debts incured now and in my past. Student loan debt is fundamentally unjust and a failure of our society. At 18 in 2008 I watched the facade finally crumble. The incredible potential we have collectively, held back like a stuck coil, just waiting for release. Debt contains us. Debt ties us to a system of servitude. It consumes and shapes our decisions. Some debt is necessary to secure investment. But it should be easy to obtain and easy to pay back. We instead are forced to utilize debt as a tool and necessity in order to afford basic goods and services at a normalized standard within society. It's debt by design. It is all a gamble. Your pay has not kept pace with costs. Banks and financial institutions. They are the force insuring this is the case. It's an opportunity by coersion. They *know* your pay has not kept up with costs. And they sell you a "cure" to bridge this gap. They're betting (though it's not really a bet),that you will not be able to pay off your costs fast enough not to incur interest. They profit from your inability to afford living in the place you were born. They know you can't afford it, because they control both ends of the formula. They invest heavily to make sure you cannot afford to live in the place you were born.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

April 3, 2023

Heather Cox Richardson

On Saturday, April 1, the emergency measures Congress put in place to extend medical coverage at the beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic expired. This means that states can end Medicaid coverage for people who do not meet the pre-pandemic eligibility requirements, which are based primarily on income. As many as 15 million of the 85 million people covered by Medicaid could lose coverage, although most will be eligible for other coverage either through employers or through the Affordable Care Act. The 383,000 who will fall through the cracks are in the 10 states that have refused to expand Medicaid.

The pandemic prompted the United States to reverse 40 years of cutbacks to the social safety net. These cuts were prescribed by Republican politicians who argued that concentrating money upward would promote economic growth by enabling private investment in the economy. That “supply side” economic policy, they said, would expand the economy so effectively that everyone would prosper. In 2017, Republicans passed yet another tax cut, primarily for the wealthy and for corporations, to advance this policy.

As the economy fell apart during the coronavirus pandemic, though, it was clear the government must do something to shore up the tattered social safety net, and even Republicans got on board fast. On March 6, 2020, Trump signed the Coronavirus Preparedness and Response Supplemental Appropriations Act, allocating $8.3 billion to fund vaccine research and give money to states and local governments to try to stop the spread of the virus. On March 18, he signed the Families First Coronavirus Response Act, which provided food assistance, sick leave, $1 billion in unemployment insurance, and Covid testing. On the same day, the Federal Housing Administration put moratoriums on foreclosure and eviction for people with government-backed loans.

On March 27, Congress passed the Coronavirus Aid, Relief, and Economic Security Act (CARES), which appropriated $2.3 trillion, including $500 billion for companies, $349 billion for small businesses, $175 billion for hospitals, $150 billion to state and local government, $30.75 billion for schools and universities, individual one-time cash payments, and expanded unemployment benefits.

Trump signed another stimulus package on April 24, 2020, which appropriated another $484 billion. And on December 27, 2020, he signed another $900 billion stimulus and relief package.

When he took office, President Joe Biden promised to rebuild the American middle class. He and the Democratic Congress began to shift the government’s investment from shoring up the social safety net to repairing the economy. On March 19, 2021, he signed the American Rescue Plan into law, putting $1.9 trillion behind economic stimulus and relief proposals.

Biden signed the Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Law, also known as the Bipartisan infrastructure Act, on November 15, 2021, putting $1.2 trillion into so-called hard infrastructure projects: roads and bridges and broadband.

On August 9, 2022, he signed the CHIPS and Science Act, putting about $280 billion in new funding behind scientific research and the manufacturing of semiconductors. And days later, on August 16, Biden signed the Inflation Reduction Law, putting billions behind addressing climate change and energy security while also raising money to pay for new policies and to reduce the deficit by raising taxes on corporations and the wealthy, funding the Internal Revenue Service to stop cheating, and permitting Medicare to negotiate with pharmaceutical companies over drug prices.

This dramatic investment in the demand side, rather than the supply side, of the economy helped to spark record inflation, compounded by supply chain issues that created shortages and encouraged price gouging. To combat that inflation, the Federal Reserve has been raising interest rates. Numbers released Friday show that inflation cooled in February, suggesting that the Federal Reserve is seeing the downward trend it has been hoping for, although there is concern that the sudden decision of the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) this weekend to slash production of crude oil might drive the price of oil back up, dragging prices with it.

That investment in the demand side of the economy also meant that the child poverty rate in the U.S. fell almost 30%, while food insufficiency fell by 26% in households that received the expanded child tax credit. The U.S. economy recovered faster than that of any other G7 nation after the worst of the pandemic. Wages for low-paid workers grew at their fastest rate in 40 years, with real income growing by 9%. MIddle-income workers’ wages grew by only between 2.4% and 3.9% after inflation, but that, too, was the biggest jump in 40 years. Unemployment has fallen to its lowest level since 1969, and a record 10 million people have applied to start small businesses.

This public investment in the economy has attracted billions in private-sector investment—chipmakers have planned almost $200 billion of investments in 17 states—while it has also pressured certain companies to act in the public interest: the three major insulin producers in the U.S., making up 90% of the market, have all capped prices at $35 a month.  

As the economy begins to smooth out, Biden and members of his administration are touting the benefits of investing in the economy “from the bottom up and the middle out.” They have emphasized that they are working to support unions and the rights of consumers, taking on “junk fees,” noncompete agreements, and nondisparagement clauses. After the collapse of the Silicon Valley Bank, the administration has suggested that deregulation of banking institutions went too far, and Biden has continued to push increased support for child care and health care.

A recent Associated Press–NORC poll shows that while 60% of Americans say the federal government spends too much money, they actually want increased investment in specific programs: 65% want more on education (12% want less); 63% want more on health care (16% want less); 62% want more on Social Security (7% want less); 58% want more spending on Medicare (10% want less); 53% want more on border security (23% want less); and 35% want more spending on the military (29% want less).

This puts the political parties in an odd spot. A week ago, Biden and members of the administration began barnstorming the country to highlight how their policy of “Investing in America” has been building the economy: “unleashing a manufacturing boom, helping rebuild our infrastructure and bring back supply chains, lowering costs for hardworking families, and creating jobs that don’t require a four-year degree across the country,” as the White House puts it.

Meanwhile,  the Republicans are doubling down on the idea that such investments are a waste of money, and are forcing a fight over the debt ceiling to try to slash the very programs that the administration is celebrating. Ignoring that the 2017 Trump tax cuts and spending under Trump added about 25% to the debt, they are focusing on Biden’s policies and demanding  that the government balance the budget in 10 years without raising taxes and without cutting defense, veterans benefits, Social Security, or Medicare, which would require slashing everything else by an impossible 85%, at least (some estimates say even 100% cuts wouldn’t do it).

As David Firestone put it today in the New York Times: “Cutting spending…might sound attractive to many voters until you explain what you’re actually cutting and what effect it would have.” Republicans cut taxes and then complain about deficits “but don’t want to discuss how many veterans won’t get care or whose damaged homes won’t get rebuilt or which dangerous products won’t get recalled.” Firestone noted that this disconnect is why the House Republicans cannot come up with a budget. “The details of austerity are unpopular,” Firestone notes, “and it’s easier to just issue fiery news releases.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[the-scrappy-stinger]

No! Don't do it! Don't do it, Dorky Man!

He did it. But at least he did it from a stable place.

His wife's supportive, if apprehensive. Stuff might turn out okay!

... you guys know the pattern by now. Plus this is a manga that takes place in the... 80s? Early 90s? Which means you know who the bad guy is.

That's right, it's a real estate developer! At least, he's being friendly to an inexperienced business starter by offering supplies and appliances at a small discount. He's obviously evil. Good thing Dorky Man is writing KitKat a letter.

I can just imagine that KitKat reads this and his very first instinct is "I gotta go scream at that guy."

Off he goes...

Okay but KitKat going after this Dork feels like punching down. Guy clearly didn't practice. He doesn't even have timers for cooking his noodles. His first day is a wreck.

He then gets strongarmed, and the real estate developer has canceled his phone number.

Finally KitKat shows up to yell at Dorky Man... as he's trying to jump off a bridge.

And then ALSO tell him his food is shit.

To save you a LOT of yelling panels, because it turns out I can only have 30 pictures per post, Kitakata is like "YOU are not a FUCKING PROFESSIONAL! You have no skills and didn't practice!", and he's right, but this mostly just makes Dorky Man insulted and he steals back the money he gave his wife to try to start up his business again.

So he practices! Gets real fast, gets orders out super quick!

Still sucks at cooking, which causes a riot in his restaurant, and then he somehow sets his noodle-boiling-machine on fire.

So his day is sucking.

He keeps this up for like... two weeks? Ish? Or something, it's hard to tell, and in the meantime he sells his house to keep buying ingredients and take out loan-shark rentals on restaurant equipment, his wife leaves him, and he calls KitKat for help.

KitKat is like "Lemme take you for some GOOD udon" and brings him to a mountaintop rest stop where you cook the noodles yourself, which I am DOWN FOR!

Damn, this manga makes me hungry when KitKat isn't screaming. KitKat brought him by motorcycle, somehow, to the island of Shikoku! Where he sends Dorky Man on a Shikoku Udon Pilgrimage!

(Made the analogy, forgetting this page.) Oh see, there you go.

Oh boy, time for the WEIRDLY RELEVANT TRAINING! This time, his training is...

Dorky Man, as do all absolute dorks, SLAYS on DDR.

Okay now it's noodle time.

Okay now it's noodle time.

He makes the udon dough delicious by stomping on it! It's so good that Dorky Man shoves his entire face in.

Okay not really, but come on.

So Kitakata, who knows this guy is in debt and in trouble with the mafia, took the 2 MILLION YEN that the guy paid him and bought in a noodle cart.

Fuckin' 80s Miracle Bubble Economy, man. But anyway, the cart does great! Really sells well.

Immediately he gets in trouble with a DIFFERENT mafia.

And the mafioso is like "Well then, if it's delicious, we won't touch it" and so KitKat is like "You must make DELICIOUS UDON, you DORK!" And the Dork proceeds to make delicious udon.

I think Dorkly Man is some kind of weird Agent Zero for echolalia.

And so his... wife... un-leaves him, I guess? And it's a happy ending, where he has no house, is still in debt, and under the umbrella of a mafia crime boss.

Hooray.

Total length of this story arc: 8 ISSUES.

[fiftytwotwentythree]

Wellness Wednesday:

Sittin', Waitin', Wishin'

Last week I made a proclamation that I was planning vacations - as well - for a long time now - I've been meaning to reward myself for maintaining my goals, weight, and exercise regimen, but it feels like I keep hitting road bumps financially.

Part of my overall Wellness Journey was to set myself up financially as well, but with life events, home remodeling, student loans payments coming back, car issues... I dont feel comfortable - by comfortable I mean I don't feel deserving of little social rewards such as going to the movies, traveling, or shopping because the toll on my bank account is increasingly detrimental.

I can't even imagine celebrating the holidays with gifts.

I have two more movies in mind that I have full intentions of seeing in the theatres - after that I'll probably call it for the year.

I will also need to plan further on how to budget my income towards groceries - start meal prepping - this one kind of blows because I already cut out take-out/dining-out, but most of my meals are individually packaged meals - quasi feels like I am losing my last bits of humanity and dignity... Effing First World Problems, amirite?

.

.

30th CHECK-IN:

Current Goals:

Lose 52 lbs

Completed as of 4/12/2023

New Goal: Maintain or Continue on The Weight Loss Path

Avoid "Junk Food"

Minimize Take-Out / Fast Food Consumption

Short Term:

Vegetarian-ish Diet: Completed

End Date: 4/09/2023 - 46 Days Total

.

.

Meal Tracker:

THURSDAY

Lunch:

Honey BBQ StarKist Tuna with Pepperjack Cheese on a Croissant

(1) Johnsonville Beef Brat on a Hawaiian Bun

(2) Scoops of Broccoli Cheddar Pasta Salad

Snack:

(1) Medium Bowl of Valley Top Popcorn

(2) Individual Bags of Sahale Snacks Pomegranate Vanilla Flavored Cashews Glazed Mix

Supper:

Thai Chili StarKist Tuna with Pepperjack Cheese on a Croissant

(2) Johnsonville Beef Brat on a Hawaiian Bun

(1) Glass of Rootbeer Flavored Milk

FRIDAY

Lunch:

Deli Style StarKist Tuna with Pepperjack Cheese on a Croissant

(2) Hotdogs on Hawaiian Buns

Snack:

Large Bowl of Smartfood's White Cheddar Popcorn

(1) Glass of Rootbeer Flavored Milk

Supper:

Large Plate of Kahiki Orange Chicken with InnovAsian Vegetable Rice

(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk

SATURDAY

Lunch:

Large Plate of Leftover Kahiki Orange Chicken with InnovAsian Vegetable Rice

(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk

Snack:

Large Bowl of Valley Top Popcorn

Serving of Blue Diamond Almonds

4oz Bag of Sahale Snacks Pomegranate Vanilla Flavored Cashews Glazed Mix

4oz Bag of Sahale Snacks Pomegranate Flavored Pistachios Glazed Mix

Supper:

(3) Seasoned NY Strip Steaks (1.84 Lbs Total)

(2) Glasses of Chocolate Milk

SUNDAY

Lunch:

American Style Pasta Salad with Chicken

Snack:

Serving of Blue Diamond Almonds

(2) Bags of Orville Redenbacher Ultimate Butter Popcorn

(2) Glasses of Chocolate Milk

Supper:

Spinach Dijon Salad

(2) Small Oranges

MONDAY

Lunch:

Santa Fe Style Salad with Chicken

Serving of Blue Diamond Almonds

Snack:

Bag of Orville Redenbacher Ultimate Butter Popcorn

(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk

Supper:

Chef Salad

(1) Small Orange

TUESDAY

Lunch:

Bowl of Cesaer Salad with Croutons

Snack:

Serving of Blue Diamond Almonds

Supper:

Bowl of Leftover Cesaer Salad with Croutons

(1) Small Orange

(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk

WEDNESDAY

Lunch:

Bowl of Leftover Cesaer Salad with Croutons

(2) Hotdogs on Hawaiian Buns

Snack:

Serving of Blue Diamond Almonds

4oz Bag of Sahale Snacks Pomegranate Vanilla Flavored Cashews Glazed Mix

4oz Bag of Sahale Snacks Pomegranate Flavored Pistachios Glazed Mix

Supper:

Crunchy Chicken Sandwich

- Swiss Cheese

- BuffaRanch Sauce

Crunchy Chicken Burrito

- Loaded Nacho Dip

(3) Pieces of Crispy Chicken Tenders

- Honey BBQ Sauce

- Ranch

(2) Glasses of Chocolate Milk

.

.

Workouts:

THURSDAY

(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 sets of 50]

(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]

(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

FRIDAY

(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 sets of 50]

(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]

(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

SATURDAY

(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 sets of 50]

(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]

(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

SUNDAY

(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 sets of 50]

(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]

(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

MONDAY

(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 sets of 50]

(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]

(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

TUESDAY

(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [5 sets of 10]

(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 set of 50]

(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]

(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

WEDNESDAY

(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges[4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 Sets of 50]

(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]

(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

.

.

WEIGHT TRACKER:

Starting Weight (Noon, 1/01/2023): XXX.X lbs

Weight at Last Check-In, 7/19/2023: +0.2 lbs

Weight As of Noon, 7/26/2023: -0.4 lbs

Total Weight Loss: -78.4 lbs

.

.

Closing Thoughts:

The Good:

I've read some pretty good comics/trades recently. The small escape it provides me has been refreshing.

The Bad:

Stiff muscles all around.

The Ugly:

Increased apathy towards things like work, socializing, and general life.

[paydayquid]

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