#i have to do everything around here. have to be my own supplier. unfair

[red-dyed-sarumane]

the tumblr experience of spam rbing the character u like except its all ur own art bc everyone else that draws her IF anyone draws her only post on twitter

[amphtaminedreams]

COVID-19, Negligent Manslaughter, and a Timeline of Tory Indifference

“I feel sorry for Boris Johnson. He is doing the best he can in the situation and I don’t think anybody else could have done a better job.”

[exhibit A: a gem somebody that I’m Facebook friends with reposted earlier]

It’s a sentiment that I cannot quite wrap my head around. I sit here hopeless and furious and trying to hold back tears because it’s been almost a year since England first went into lockdown and yet here we are, almost 100,000 dead, in an even worse position than we were before whilst other countries begin to slowly return to normality. It is clear to me who is to blame for this, however there are a large proportion of people who don’t want to “politicise” the actions of the PRIME MINISTER with regards to his approach towards handling a virus sweeping the country he GOVERNS. 

Typically, these kind of posts making the rounds on social media will be accompanied by some kind of photo of Boris Johnson looking somber as if to suggest that the way things have played out were beyond his control and that he is some kind of broken man beleaguered by the suffering he has, despite good intentions, inadvertently caused.

This one in particular of Johnson with his head in his hands is a staple. In reality, this is a photo taken back in 2018 whilst he was receiving flack from party members for comparing Theresa May to a suicide bomber (for her handling of Brexit, ironically) as well as from the papers due to his rumoured (now also proven, in a completely non-surprising turn of events, to be true) affair with his former aide, Carrie Symonds. 

So let’s shut this narrative-where we should feel for Boris because he’s doing his best, and apparently a better job than anybody else could’ve done in his situation- down right here. In a supposedly developed country with one of the world’s largest economies, if we’re talking by proportion, our COVID-19 death toll is up there with the worst of them. It seems that every other state figurehead (bar a small handful), and I mean almost every single one of them, is doing a better job. People love to throw figures out there about how densely populated we are to combat damning statistics as if we haven’t got just as many factors playing to our advantage, as if it’s unfair to compare our response to Germany’s or Japan’s or Singapore’s (both of which are far more densely populated) or New Zealand’s or Vietnam’s, but we are an ISLAND with world-leading technology and infrastructure and healthcare equipment and professionals and a relatively high standard of living. In what world is almost 70,000 dead in a country with abundant time and means to prepare a response reflective of said country’s leaders doing a good job?

Apparently we’re supposed to believe that Johnson feels some sense of moral responsibility for this astronomical failure. A man who refuses to acknowledge the multiple children he has fathered outside of his marriages and who has had repeatedly engaged in affairs and one-night stands throughout said marriages. A man who continued to cheat whilst his most recent wife was receiving treatment for cervical cancer, for fuck’s sake. Yep, a real stand-up guy. 

So where does this idea that Johnson must feel remorseful for this catastrophe come from? We haven’t seen a second of remorse or a hint of accountability for the lives lost from him nor any members of his cabinet. That much is really no surprise; I have this hypothesis, and it’s not a stretch, that these people do not have an ounce of empathy in their bodies. These ridiculously privileged, privately-educated individuals who have had everything handed to them their entire lives simply cannot put themselves in the shoes of the average working person and that is the problem. Unable to recognise that what distinguishes them from most others is little more than the luck of being born into wealth and the abundance of recourses and connections that has entailed throughout their lives, they see us as beneath them-as less intelligent, less driven, and thus less deserving of the status and respect they enjoy. They see us as a bunch of whining, unmotivated idiots who do not recognise the chokehold they have over our media nor the fact that everything they do is a desperate grab to keep money and power within the hands of a select group of people, an exclusive members club from which most of us are barred (just take a simple Google search and watch Jacob Rees-Mogg’s opinion of the Grenfell victims or the buried Johnson speech where he talks about how inequality is essential). They know that we will squabble amongst ourselves about who is to blame rather than wising up to the truth which is that every decision they make is fuelled by cronyism and the inability to make and follow through with difficult choices, the pandemic being no exception. The supposedly self-made elite see the life of the average working class person as having far less value than their own, and their parties actions over the last 10 years have made that very clear. 

It was in December 2019 that the first case of COVID-19 was declared to the World Health Organisation and on March the 11th that they announced they considered it as a pandemic. In Wuhan, people were dying of pneumonia in their clusters. And what was Boris Johnson doing in this time? Well for starters, here in the UK we didn’t even have a pandemic committee-Johnson had scrapped it six months before. If years of benefits cuts and defunding of the NHS in favour of funding nuclear weapon programs, keeping British troops on other people’s lands, and tax breaks for the mega corporations that donate to their party didn’t convince you that the Conservatives have little regard for human life, them getting rid of this committee-whilst a pandemic has been declared year after year as the greatest threat to mankind-should have been the first sign of trouble. As if that wasn’t enough, he also skipped five of the COBRA (meetings are made up of a cross-departmental committee put together to respond to national emergencies and PMs routinely attend those pertaining to crises on the scale of COVID-19) meetings addressing the situation. Whilst other countries were closing their borders and stocking up on PPE, Johnson and his ministers were selling PPE abroad and simply telling people to wash their hands to the length of the tune of happy birthday. Their only policy was one of “herd immunity”, which was in fact not a policy but just an abandonment of their party’s public duty disguised as one, intentionally obfuscated with pseudoscientific jargon.

Even thinking the absolute worst of politicians you would hope that when it came to the point where the UK’s non-response to COVID-19 was becoming an international disgrace, Johnson and his ministers would take proper protective measures if only to save face. But when they eventually seemed to do so, it became clear that the priority was not the safety of the ordinary people affected by the virus. Outsourcing their test and traces system to companies such as Serco, Sitel, Deloitte and G4S rather than public health services, Conservative ministers could not resist attempting to line the pockets of their friends and benefactors in the process. According to the Guardian, instead of reaching out to the experts or using publicly funded services to handle COVID containment measures, the Conservative party has awarded a disgusting £1.5 BILLION WORTH of contracts to businesses with explicit connections to its MPs and donors, the majority of which lack any relative experience of the tasks they’ve been trusted to carry out. Unsurprisingly, the National Audit office found that when awarding contracts relating to the production of COVID-19 protection measures and treatment needs, there was a “high-priority lane” for suppliers referred by senior politicians and officials; companies with a political referral were 10 times more likely to end up winning a government contract than those without. On top of this, it is not hard to draw a link between the late initiation of lockdown measures and preemptive openings of pubs and restaurants against scientific advice to the interests of frequent donors such as Wetherspoons owner Tim Martin. Even if one chooses to ignore the blatantly obvious correlation between the owners of the businesses whose profits were prioritised over safety concerns and the number of those owners who donate to the Conservatives, party officials at the very least were reluctant to follow the lead of many other countries in financing furlough schemes themselves and instead avoided this responsibility by using loose lockdown measures to leave it down to the discretion of small business owners, who couldn’t themselves afford to furlough staff, whether or not to stay open. 

Time and time again, as the government flounder and fuck about, favouring personal desires to keep their powerful, high-paying jobs and to satisfy the corporate allies who make this possible, blame has been shifted from the public to care homes to NHS workers and back again whilst we, the public, make the biggest sacrifices of all under the illusion that we were being guided out of this pandemic rather than lied to and thrown under the bus. Whilst the elite continue to pick and choose what rules apply to them, it’s students and the elderly and the vulnerable paying the fines and scrabbling to afford basic living costs and hoping that they don’t lose someone dear to them.

Don’t get me wrong, a large proportion of the public have contributed to the spread too with their selfishness and entitlement and the arrogance it takes to develop a sudden refusal to acknowledge basic science from experts who have studied in the field their whole lives so that they can justify their need to go to the pub (speaking of, it’s absolutely HILARIOUS how many “mental health advocates” are suddenly coming out of the woodworks on football avi Twitter after they’ve spent years calling people on mental health Twitter attention seekers). And don't get me wrong, there were inevitably going to be casualties of this pandemic. But it didn't have to spread to this many people, and there didn’t have to be so many deaths due to a lack of preparation, and this wouldn’t have been the case if it weren’t for the inherent apathy of the Conservative party towards the lives of people of lesser status than them, the reluctance to put those lives before party interests. I wish I felt like there was an end in sight, I wish there was some positive takeaway from all of this, but even now, we continue to see corners being cut with the vaccine lauded as our saving grace and anti-maskers gathering outside hospitals to chant about how “oppressive” it is to be urged to wear a bit of cloth over their faces for the short periods of time in which they leave their houses and all I can think of is the selfishness that runs like poison through our country. It makes me sick and leaves me to question desperately where we go from here. I don’t like unanswered questions, I don’t like feeling politically directionless, and I don’t like the growing fear I have about the state of the world which seems to intensify every single day. In the UK at least, it’s starting to feel like nothing will ever change-we’re told we live in a democracy and yet mainstream media is owned by the people whose interest is to keep their Conservative friends in power. The stronghold they have over print media in particular allows them to continually get away with smearing and defaming every person who comes along and seems to want to actually help ordinary people, without being challenged, to the point where the only kind of “opposition” we’re left with promises nothing but a big boss approved tactical reshuffling of the status quo (which they call “electability”); it doesn’t feel like democracy when the majority of the country are being fed misleading information and convinced against voting in their best interests. 

This is the result of that. The state we find ourselves in is the inevitable result of being manipulated into helping the elite build their protective wall whilst the rest of us scrabble to get in and step on each others heads along the way, the people inside shouting over that it’s those even more vulnerable than ourselves that are taking our places. Outside the wall, the earth is falling from beneath our feet, and instead of throwing over the ropes to help us out, the people inside are stockpiling them so they can secure their firm place above ground and then later flog the rest. How many more people have to die before we reach some kind of widespread realisation of that? Where do we go from here and what do we do? Well for one, we can stop spreading those god-fucking-awful textposts on Facebook and get our heads out of our arses. Wear our masks over and wear them over our fucking noses. Have some fucking consideration for others. Don’t wait til an issue affects you personally to give a fuck about it. AND START HOLDING THE FUCKING PRIME MINISTER AND HIS MINISTERS AND HIS ENTIRE PARTY AS WELL AS THE OPPOSITION MPS THAT HAVE SAT BY THE SIDELINES AND ALLOWED THIS TO GO ON WITHOUT PROTEST ACCOUNTABLE. That would be a good start. 

I’m so tired. Things didn’t need to be this way, and yet because of the selfishness of the few, thousands upon thousands are dead. It’s not about “throwing around blame”, it’s not about “throwing around” anything, it’s about expecting a leader to do his best to protect lives. If that is “throwing blame”, let’s get things clear, I have no issue with hurtling it torpedo style at those who handed out a death sentence to so many in this country rather than do anything that might compromise their own privilege. Honestly, pass me the shovel after and I’ll happily bury the wreckage in the ground. Who wants to join?:-)

[crackcrocs]

DEATH WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING #3

3. Transformation Central

the entities of my personalities would like to come together in one voice that speaks through me, we or I call this collection of words from the mustiest corners of my brain to this note page to voice something that might come close to what I feel underneath the skin I wear. In all my unorganised words- I might even go as far as to call this a poem, titled:

‘TRANSFORMATION CENTRAL’

sub characters in my head would appreciate if this could be visualised & understood through as deep a lens as humanly possible. even I confuse myself so if you can decode or relate to any of this, wonderful. If not, I’m locked in my own mind, swallowed the keys to my soul.

SIMILARITIES & INTERCONNECTEDNESS BETWEEN HUMAN & PLANT CONSCIOUSNESS EXIST! if you look closely at my nose freckles you’ll see the resemblance of the constellations above. if you look at the human veins & the layout of a tree, this is further proof.

{VISUALS THROUGH A SEPIA WINDOW STARING @ THE AUTUMN LEAFS; IMAGINING THE SEEDS UNDERNEATH, THROUGH NUMB ROOT VESSELS THAT PERMEATE THROUGH EVERY MEMBRANE OF MY EXTERNAL TO INTERNAL ENVIRONMENT}

~FEATURING THE VICIOUS CYCLE OF DEPRESSION & PERFECTIONISM.

here goes:

What is this part of my mind ?

If you want; delve inside-

I may look sweet like Alice,

but underneath it all

I deteste looking in the mirror

-cos I see the mad hatter.

my inner child needs a platter-

full of care not distortion & abuse pls.

less fibbin would’ve been a breeze.

now following the dead fish in the stream!

HOW on EARTH do I fit with the cod & the Haddock?

I’m the rainbow fish- beat & battered.

dim my own light cos I’m too afraid to shine.

alone.

thieves tried to steal my shiny scales.

I sat and watched them grow.

In the sea realm they were mean gargantuan selfish whales, with poisonous shark fangs & alligator tails. scorpion hands. (gremlins)

and still they make me feel like the alien-

I cant take it.

Make it make sense ?

I can’t.

controller in my hand-

Off balance stance.  

anxiously I move round like a wobbly jelly.

where’s the button to balance my chi & shut out the ego ?

the teLLIE telling lies to our vision!

change the channel aura terracotta orange- daily dosage of vitamin D & C.

catch me sun gazing by the sea

head buzzin like a bee.

speaking from a dusty box

stuck on top of a forbidden shelf

cos I dunno how else.

I’m tryna delve deep but forgot how to dive

How can i visualise? scenery foggy-

the establishment man with the glue gun got me xD

inner monk burning but at peace

Cos I refuse to believe

If the only way is the American dream

Interconnected; like the frog in science -let’s dissect it!

down to every floating atom spirit neighbouring your door

subcategories & divisions, it’s more!

than the rich and the poor -prism that’s been built

do we all feel like a performance monkey on stilts?

will my data be extracted & used to mould a robots personality some day?

well obviously not.

does the price of our lives all amount down to slave ways?

LABOUR YAY!

but morals & values it seems we’ve forgot.

sO If i don’t speak its cos I’m lost.

or maybe i’m enlightened-

Standing at the edge of the porch;

watching TRYING to understand how the flowers grow.

questioning eVERYTHING man made!

I’ve stepped out of the perfect picture frame

I can see the coal pollute the sky

I need to hop on the train-

but I’m comfortable

Sunset to sunrise statue standing still.

what’s the ingredients to life’s yucky pie?

I’ve exceeded mental lotteries.

Sanity n universal peace would be a trophy.

TIL then I’ll be crafting & shaping a solid pottery reality,

with a few pence, gum, and a bandana of belongings tied to stick.

thinking one day I’ll be laying the bricks

& building a kingdom of bliss.

guess for now I’ll use the intricate delicate materials in my tool box- that’s all I’ve got.

might have a long way- maybe worth a shot.

I observe, cruisin in the sky.

dunno why..

I jus look @ the hills.

Only time & history reveals.

no thanks mr men-

I don’t want your prescription pills.

there’s enough propaganda as it is.

I won’t jump on the merry go round-

til my core trusts & envisions we’ll actually feel safe!

I don’t want to take part in this faux fur, sweet nothings & a jack in a box punching blur, so called future.

oh and genuinely thanks quarantine-for once again, I can hear bird sounds!

guess this is me tryna speak out loud!!!...

it’s not thrilling

system  time killing everything-

mother nature’s oxygen

everything is nauseating

clock ticking, I better start creating.

they should write a book on how to be free when the system set us up to believe that we’re tied to the cut down trees that gives them a currency of greed that they breed.

If blindfolded, I don’t wanna eat what they feed.

Whilst they profit of us -tell us smile and the bandits don’t wanna see us happy.

they’re too busy robbing all our hoods.

In exchange for the silence, they’ve granted us with a 21’st century fashion garment of a slave muzzle! labelled conform.

More delusion to add to the already desensitised norm.

zootonic diseases, welcome covid 19 to your plastic kiddy tea party!- apologies for questioning your motive!

Been handed too many hot plates with a post it note saying HOLD THIS.

we’ll be okay just hush.

Same Shan message told to every generational seed.

If we don’t TRY overpower-

we’ll never succeed!

it’s getting even more scary.

Artificial intelligence.

Societal negligence..

my canvas isn’t clear-dunno am I schizo ?

finger painting, cos it makes more sense.

struggling to blend.

borderline conspiracist pretending to be fine;

moving the goal post, hovering above the race line.

who made the chalk? who set the lanes?

I wanna know it all, maybe¿ far past insane.

I can fit all I need in the palm of my hand,

Maybe even less! cut a finger off not sure it’ll even add stress.

hi from personality Peter, even sober- always away with the fairies.

Pass the pixie dust, I’m in a rush

Found shelter in the comfort of pan physicists timer, no not the one on your phone!

Ring ring, skeptical! is it my demon or my mommy on the phone?

I’m stuck in the airspace of an infinite glass filled with beach particles trying to form myself standing up still attempting not to slip through the hands of my very own discovery.

time is running out & ill go when I go.

I’m sitting inside the fly trap -

stardust, chakras can you feel the sensation colors like a starburst.

deep emotion is a curse.

still entrapped in the sand dune of nothingness-

flipping a domino monopoly of solidified thoughts as I sway with the wind.

I’m the trapped sandbox in the playground & the slipping sand in my own hands.

Inhale chronic but I wanna enter the quiet realm of white noise

-color of a wife beater vest, calmer than the ease in ignorance of a red neck.

sadomasochistic, messes.

but oblivion, seems like less stress.

Unfortunately I can see, with all eyes

empathetic paralysis, gets me vexed.

Punching truth into the core of your chest!

It’s not funny, neither is the one on the receiving end..

My limbs are numb

& im done playing octopus alchemy.

I want minimalism & life can be simple,

Evil entities have made it hard.

Maybe I’ve got stars above my head like an old cartoon character.

But I can’t make it make sense, are they out to get me. worse all of us? Or have I bottled myself tryna re mesh the broken shards,

I feel glued to the floor cos there’s a pretty price to pay if you want more.

I see life through a different lense, maybe born downside up, Benjamin button I came out the back door-

Outside looking in, digesting confusion.

Is to be a product of environment a sin?

rummage through my messy brain.

personalities sardine packed in this tin

I’m the wizard of my mania

Scaring & attracting the black crows-

they’re my friends.

Sometimes still a cowardly lion

Roaring pain & true riddles at the wrenching wicked witch posse of the west.

will my voice ever be loud enough to shed light wit my words and grate the sweet zest

In to the cake i’m baking?

Probably not.

Got more thoughts than the autumn leaves collected by the garden rake. alone.

gathering & storing the pains of yesterday.

sometimes I stay in line

Other times in my head Im on my hands juggling out of time.

but I really don’t mind if I lose or win.

we all have a pace

I jus don’t want the 1% to win the race.

It’s unfair!

Humanity does anyone care ??

Half lady

half fairy

Good  MOOrning-

from my anagrams.

no I’m not a cow.

twister fidget spinner brain in the flesh-

form of expression this time around lyrics.

feel I’m jus a silly rubix

& still mourning

I don’t like dairy

pass the oat milk.

Are you aware the industry are sabotaging our diets?

we want peace!

the powerful elite-

perceive & deceive

the scene they want us to be.

chuck the narcissistic psychopathic pie back in our face-

every time we almost found & addressed the Programme & Control man in the maze.

evil & extroverted- he said that the anarchists have to be the cause of riots.

working isn’t class. I said let’s switch roles- he said pass.

It’s piss! Who’s got the bomb & the guns?

Who got the land? off wit OUR heads 4 fun!

it’s pure scary.

Pharmaceutics handshake.

with the cooked up suppliers, also crooked wack liars.

I’d rather shot a gallon of bloody blubbery infused slaughter house milk

If it meant we didn’t use cocoons for silk.

why not add a drizzle of bleach to the concoction & maybe that’s a reach.

every time I guzzle fakeness, it taste peak.

I want real fruit, what next-

a seedless peach ???

what’s the difference between a weirdo & a freak?

layers & levels to the shit.

Magnifying tapping the window of society, I’ll be puffing green til I get to the land of Oz.

sponge soaked soaking up emotions

Suffocated by deduction of care in life

feel entrapped in this paradigm

what am I thinking ?

got the verbs & a cuppa tea

It’s mixed with torment & desire to be free.

I’d rather be awake than asleep

When I get too comfy I feel weak

Demons they reap

underneath

rip the seems as I bleed

Concrete

Solid

Emotions

Is all you’re getting

It’s all sad scenes in the imagery I’m setting

people need care we seem to be forgetting

why are we in debt wit

a posse of clowns

pay the price so we can get a frown

here’s some seratonin

quit ya moaning

life is all sound

aw yeh¿  if you’re not an over thinker!

product of environment- Sirius flickers

theyve done a ritual like it’s Wicca

now here’s your gold sticker..

for managing to co operate.

In this world fuelled off of evil n hate

waking ups a bloody disgrace

I am not amazed.

Man I love my fam n my friends

Just hate this part of my brain that feels the need to play pretend

sometimes I feel insane

but I’m calm

need to escape so I don’t do harm

Gold lioness in the sky by the sea

with puff the magic dragon

fire out my mouth, fuel helps me breathe

I will shine bright

Promise imma be alright

even tho I’m not sure why

I function like this

I wanna be myself

It’s just hard to find the comfortability

To feel happy and pretty

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Ring around sing about overdose emotions

Sorry dunno how to communicate

Heads in a constant debate

Should I go or should I stay

My head clashes

Burnin the next ciggy as my thoughts become ashes.

[floatingfish626]

MC Server ಥ_ಥ

Me and a group of friends made our own MC server. Unfortunately, the server was abandoned. Me, being the person I am, still feel the server has potential, so I still play/write lore for it. This may be wayyyy out of the usual for my page but lets be honest, who actively stalks my tumblr page? This is mostly gonna be a place for me to dump the failed server ideas/backstories. So, here goes nothing. If you wanna read them, random stranger, feel free to! I wanted this server to last a while, and we made it almost 2 months with about 12 people in total. So, enjoy!

Word Count: 2,603  (11,679 Characters)

**ALL ORIGINS ARE WRITTEN BY SEPERTE PEOPLE, ALL EDITED BY ME, NONAME**

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Character Origin 1, Seven: Seven was born into a life of poverty, shortly after he was born, he got sold to work as a slave on a sea village, quickly being transferred to a sand village outside of a prison. He did is work as a farmer to a small, yet kind and caring family, who adopted him as their own. His name, Seven, coming from a number tattooed on his neck while in the market. During Seven’s time at this small village, they had a fatal accident, having a berserk enderman ruin the home he had grown custom to. He rebuilt the fallen Village, only to have a Piglin army slaughter whomever remained. Seven only escaped with his life, befriending a Guardian named Marvin, who became his best friend (RIP Marvin, we miss you <3). The Guardian helped Seven grow stronger, and learn to fight. A few years later, he came across two children, Tex and Rox. Seven, taking sympathy for the two, took them as his own. As the revenge grew further from his mind, his children grew older. As they grew, he taught them what he knew about farming and combat. His kids grew older and left him, a crazy old man in a dirt hut with the guardian, forgetting the revenge he wished for many years.  On a normal day, Seven had witnessed something unforgivable happen. He had met Oxlo, Void, and Levi. After spending every waking moment together, the three ended up falling for each other, having adopted Levi and marrying the other two, Seven had have a happy life, with his 3 stolen adopted kids and poly relationship. (End Seven.)

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Character Origin 2, Levi:  Levi was born into captivity from a hybrid mother. By the time he could walk, he was taken from his mother, and raised like a solider. Levi had large, beautiful wings, that got removed as a child, leaving him scared and unsure of who he was all throughout his ‘childhood.’ Being he was a hybrid being, he was used on for testing, by horrid endermen. Having experiments done constantly, he had mutated a mouth (basically Venom from the movie Venom) that he had grown to hate. As Levi grew older, he became rebellious against the unfair people. He gained many cruel and inhumane (lol) punishments. During one of these ‘rebellious moments,’ he had expected to be caught. instead, he was left alone to do so. He heard a loud crash and began to investigate. He had walked outside to see 2 large entities trying to fight against the endermen, and winning. Levi took this as an opportunity to escape. He left the end before the two closed the portal to the end. He blacked out and woke up to a short, sandy blonde man and 2, really tall men, resembling endermen, staring at him. After many, many years of building trust and learning how to communicate, Levi became one of their family.  He Moved out many years later, only to return to his home town to find everything left barren and abandoned. (End Levi.)

Looks: Light blue, messy hair, dark blue eyes, scarf covering his mouth/nose, unhinged and slimy mouth, white and blue tshirt, black jeans  (you can tell this one is my, NoName’s, OC cause he is a lot more detailed LMAO)

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Character Origin 3, Tex:  Tex is 15-17, a strider hybrid. He comes from a Nether village called Riften, but now resides in Toadstool Field. He works as a dealer and supplier for the Midnight Mafia. He can easily build and mine, and is also good at navigating the Nether and finding gold (piglins wanted gold all the time so he grew accustomed to getting it) he's obsessive and goes into a blind rage near piglins, and gifts objects and builds often. Tex was a runt in his village, so when it was attacked by piglins when he was 6-8 he was left behind for a offering, after years of being with piglins he came to despise them. He escaped around 11-14. (He isn't good with remembering his age) He had multiple siblings, but cannot remember them very well. He assumes they are dead along with the rest of his village and now only is comfortable around Seven, Void and Levi Tex has pointed ears, and scars from water/staying with piglins. He has sharp teeth. He cannot see well, water is hurtful to him and his memory is bad but he can easily swim in lava/fire resistant. He is twitchy and quick, he has curious movements and is very touchy and talks quickly and mumbly. He wears a magenta sweater, black overalls, purple flowers scattered about and no shoes Tex wants to be renewed in his new family's eyes, he wishes not to be known as a runt he thinks everyone sees him lower bc of him being a runt. Tex doesn't understand human feelings/ striders don't have many emotions, his anger was very new to him he is scared of Piglins/hoglins and hates water

Looks: Messy, dark hair, pointed ears, black eyes, fangs, darker, loosing fitting clothes

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Character Origin 4, Amber:

So amber was born in a town called Fransin in the nether and lived there with her single mother, she was bullied a lot as a kid because she didn't have spare money for the nicest clothes or shoes she stayed there until about 15 when her mother had kicked her out because it's the same as her mother did when she was younger, she stumbled upon a portal and went through which lead into dark woods and after wandering around for a bit she came upon Toadstool Fields. She was a bit scared, but after meeting the town's folk she adjusted to the overworld, yes she had a few bumps along the way (especially when her friends suggested they go swimming, as she’s part blaze), but she has grown more and made more friends, plus they even let her build her own home! She has always been grateful because they've always helped her and given her everything she needs, especially since she grew up kinda rough

Looks: Light brown hair, Golden eyes, ash colored freckles, Bee striped shirts

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Character Origin 5, Rox: When Rox was young around 4, she was made as a science experiment, (hence the endwalk state that will eventually happen later) she was later sent out to the street after all of those tests (for over 3 years), that she hated so dearly, After about one week on her own in the world, she was soon adopted by seven. She was taught how to fight and defend herself. As she got older, he became smarter and was filled with anger from the past. (hence chaotic good and neutral evil yknow?) So yes, around 16, she married milly and has been with her for a year now, she is just trying help people with her bakery and fight people if necessary (Since she’s in the mafia clan thingy).

Looks: short, pink hair, glasses, blue eyes, dark clothes

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Character Origin 6, Void: Void was born in the end, to a noble Enderman, though they don't remember that. They don't remember their original name, or their parents, or anything about their life. All they know is that they're not welcome in the End anymore, being ostracized after a series of unfortunate events in the End. Their first interaction with the Overworld wound up in them in a village and slaughtering everyone in it due to someone making eye contact with them, shortly afterwards picking up the masks to avoid eye contact and avoid looking at the scars on their face. They fled the premises with their sister Redacted and hid deep into the woods, starting on making a mansion for themself and their sister, where they would be safe. They want to keep all those dear to them safe, bordering a bit on possessiveness with the protectiveness. They have a lot of secrets, and in general are an unknown entity to those around them. They're extremely morally ambiguous and run a mafia, with their pet as their right hand man. 

Extra: -Redacted is not Void's blood sister. -Void has worn their masks for so long they don't know what they look like. -Void only takes their mask off to threaten people. -They have such a love of birds because the first mob that didn't run away from them was a parrot. -They hate government because one tried to kidnap them once and study them as an Enderman, using water torture against them. Void escaped and killed a few people, grabbing two masks off the wall as they went to hide their identity.  -Void's eyes are different from fellow Enderman, and if you look into them it's an unpleasant experience for you both. -Void is a peaceful entity until provoked, just like Enderman. -Void has an immense hatred for sand. -Void likes gazing at the stars because it reminds them of gazing into the void in the End, which is where they got their name from. -Void has a dog named Spark because shortly after they found him they were struck by lightning, which they found hilarious.

Looks: Tall  (height unspecified), Dark, fancy clothing, Mask (smile, no he isn’t dream), dark, messy hair)

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Character Origin 7, Milly: Milly is a neko hybrid, she's part feline, part human. Her existence came to be when her mother, a neko, and her father, a human, fell in love. She grew up in a small town which wasn't very popular, she wasn't picked on but she did get pushed around by some people growing up. Despite bullies, she had a normal upbringing; her parents were nice and supportive, teaching her everything they could. Her mother often told her how horrible the world can be, teaching her how kindness is a must and how no matter what, she should always help people in need and keep up a smile if she could. Milly followed this advice the best she could. While her mother taught her things through talks, her father tried to teach her things physically: he told her how he agreed, how the world was horrible, so he taught her to fight- to defend herself and protect others with her fighting skills and feline abilities. Although Milly loved her parents and the friends she had, she grew adventurous when she turned the age of 15- she wanted to explore, to see and meet more than she has. Her parents respected her wishes since they loved her dearly, they gave her all the supplies and advice they could before they hugged her goodbye. It wasn't long after that she met Rox, an enderman hybrid who she grew to cherish being around. So, her and Rox got married at 16 and  She moved in with Rox, in the smp she loved living in for all her days. Hence where the story starts. 

Headcanons: -Milly has about five cats she keeps, she loves cats. -She likes to draw, collect flowers, bake sweets, and help out people. -She's a lawful good person and pacifist -She likes dogs but they don't like her :( -She has special feline characteristics: she can jump two blocks higher than a normal person, she can purr, she will take random naps sometimes during the day, she has fangs, and she gets distracted by cat toys sometimes

Looks:  Long pink hair, light pink eyes, collar (it has a bell), white shirt and a pink skirt

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Unmentioned Characters (ones without backstories): Sammy, Oxlo, Will

this took me an hour. JUST EDITING- (ó﹏ò｡)

[chaoticgeminate]

Recover

As a thank you for the AMAZING response I got to Exposed, as well as a few questions on why I chose certain things to happen, I have now written the companion piece that comes through Adrien’s perspective through a majority of it.

Like Exposed this contains:

Minor Class Salt Minor Ladyblog Salt Minor Alya Salt MAJOR Lila Salt Adrinette Fluff Supportive Gorilla (I have named him Leonard and I stand for him as the one true Adrien parent canonically) Supportive Gabriel Agreste (reasons exist, but will not be explored here, you may speculate) Supportive Dupain and Cheng parents (when aren’t they) Mentions of birds and bees talk (*gigglesnort*)

[AO3]

Adrien had been on a three-day trip to Marseille when Lila struck, a fact that tore at him and led to more guilt festering within him, the liar had been prepared and was waiting for Marinette's only ally to be gone. "I should have done something sooner." His knuckles gripped the strap of his carry-on as he read the barrage of posts in the Class Chat, unsure of whether he wanted to even reply to these at the moment. A notification about a new meme on Catbug News was lost to a flood of Ladyblog notifications, his guilt spiking to an all-time high as Alya very savagely slammed Tom and Sabine's.

From his current place, getting ready to head back to Paris, he couldn't do much; he couldn't transform and go throwing himself across France to find out the whole truth, especially since Marinette wasn't answering her phone.

Why would she? I abandoned her?

Plagg's claws pressed into his shoulder and Adrien scrambled to follow his bodyguard as they went to board the train, Leonard didn't seem too concerned with the distraction and instead cleared his throat once they sat down. "You good, kid?" Adrien was reminded of the very few times he'd ever heard the Gorilla speak, always deep and rumbly, usually it was one or two words.

"Not really." He wanted to curl up and hide, or explode and scream how unfair this was to the rooftops, Adrien's brain and body at ends with how to process and unpack his emotions without looking like a mental case.

Leonard's hand settled on Adrien's head and the man shifted so he could squeeze Adrien's shoulder instead, gently of course but firm enough to help ground the boy. "Talk me through it, kid, you look close to fainting." Adrien's mouth opened and closed a moment, it was the most he'd ever heard his bodyguard say, it was the first time any of the adults in his life had wanted to hear his thoughts on anything.

Adrien hesitated but Leonard was patient, not taking back his request and instead just watching. "You remember Lila," This made Leonard scowl and nod, letting out a deep sigh that Adrien could practically feel in his bones. "and you know my friend Marinette, or you've seen her at least. She wears her hair in cute pigtails and-" Adrien flushed and stopped himself, but Leonard's scowl had faded to a calm expression.

Plagg, who had already shifted his hiding place, vibrated in Adrien's pocket out of contained snickers. "Marinette knows Lila is making stories up to impress the others and get out of doing work, she tried to call her out on it before, but since they were all just stupid tall tales I had thought Lila would have been figured out by now. Spoiler alert, she wasn't, and now she's framed Marinette and gotten her expelled a second time." Leonard's brow furrowed and the man retracted his hand to cross his arms, Adrien realized that he hadn't exactly told his bodyguard about that event either.

"The first time Lila planted the answer sheet for our geography test in Marinette's backpack, Madam Bustier called Marinette out in front of everyone, but Marinette always has high grades and especially in geography she does better than I do. But Marinette accused Lila when the latter said something, which got them both sent to the Principal's office. Lila then accused Marinette of pushing her down the stairs and saying that it was bullying, that Marinette stole her grandmother's pendant, the Principal expelled her on the spot." Adrien squeezed his hands until his knuckles hurt, he'd let her down even though he had tried, his ultimatum with Lila wasn't going to protect her.

Hearing the rumbling noise from his bodyguard, seeing Leonard watching him fairly intently, Adrien canted his head. "Sounds to me like no proper investigation was done, aside from investigating Lila's two claims of theft. No CCTV footage, no asking the staff about their observations between the two, or even getting in touch with the parent's privately. Not sure since I don't know law that well, kid, but seems like that teacher and Principal of yours are blatantly ignoring protocol." Adrien stared at the man, what else could he do, the fact that there should have been more done -that hadn't been done- was both a relief and another added stress point.

Leonard shifted to slouch, elbows on his knees with his palms pressed together, it put the tall man a little closer to eye-level with Adrien. "Kid, I'm going to guess you said you'd be there for Marinette since you both knew Lila was faking everything, that you didn't want to rock the boat because of how often akuma pop up." Adrien's throat felt tight and his eyes burned as he nodded, unable to even come up with a reply, it had felt like the right thing to do at the time.

"I'm not going to lecture you, kid, it won't do much more than make you feel worse. You made a choice in that moment, what you have to do is learn from that choice, your friend trusted you enough to let her own feelings on the matter go. What you have to do now is follow through with your choice to be there for her, regardless of the consequences, or her trust was misplaced. You're a good kid, Adrien, you wear your heart on your sleeve and that's okay too; if someone hurts you, or your friends, you are allowed to be angry and upset. You are allowed to want to help no matter what your Father says, you can't live in his shadow forever and he won't be there to make all your choices for you, there are some things you need to do for yourself."

Leonard took a long sip of water and Adrien felt the burning in his eyes grow before he squeezed them shut, trying not to burst into tears while on a very public train, but his body won out and Adrien managed to at least quiet himself so he didn't make a scene. Once he was cried out the teen spent the rest of the ride scrolling through the class chat to figure out what happened, since Mari still wasn't answering her phone or texts, even as an admittedly petty idea formed in his head and wouldn't go away.

By the time they had reached Paris there had been a return fire from Nadja Chamak and TVi, as well as the numerous loyal patrons of Tom and Sabine's, Adrien had the day off from school since he had gotten back so late and took advantage of that. After asking to be left alone until dinner, which wasn't something he knew would be a problem with his Father and Nathalie involved in a video conference with a fabric supplier, the teen found himself heading right for the TVi studio.

Nadja Chamak practically flew out of her skin when he entered the recording room, Aurore was prepping for her first major story and he was glad to have caught them. "Chat Noir? Is there an akuma?" The reporter was probably expecting it, along with all of Paris, but they'd been lucky so far.

"No, Madam Chamak. I wanted to make a public statement against the Ladyblog, on a factual source of news, since Ladybug hasn't done so yet. We don't tolerate tabloids and slander against reputable businesses and good people." The bite in his voice was present and Nadja seemed to relax, gesturing to have him seated across from Aurore at an interview setting instead of a news table.

He listened to the student reporter as she started, cameras trained on her calm expression as she blatantly called the Ladyblog out for slander and the staff at Françios Dupont for power abuse and an inability to follow board mandated protocol. It was only after he managed to reign in his temper, insult Alya and the school, that he found himself on a rooftop panicking because Ladybug was going to murder him. Even admitting he'd met Marinette was a very stupid, risky, and dangerous thing with Hawkmoth on the loose.

He'd just put a target on her back, worse than anything Lila could have done to her, and he very nearly broke his foot kicking a wall. He had to talk with Ladybug first before he risked visiting Marinette, let the hype die down so he wasn't caught showing up on her balcony in the suit, it sucked but Hawkmoth couldn't know how close they were.

By the time Ladybug had shown up the hero was done trying to beat himself up, physically at least, and his ears jolted upright as his tail went still the moment she hugged him. It was a long hug, like longer than usual, but the moment it registered just what she'd done the heroine threw herself away from him and looked something between cross and flustered. "For Marinette." She had said, which really went to show how important the designer was to Ladybug if she was willing to hug him that long as a show of thanks.

"I purr-omise to stop by and see her, when it's safe since I already was a jackass and put a target on her back today. I was just so- Ladybug I was so angry; she doesn't deserve this." He mussed up his hair and paced, slouched shoulders combined with a runway walk made it look like a big cat slinking around.

He heard the soft sniffle. "No, she doesn't, but it's okay that you defended her. I think now more than ever she needs to be reminded who she has in her corner, yea?" There was something in her expression that was soft and fond, but lurking behind it was the glint that she usually got when thinking how to take down an akuma. "Let's get patrol out of the way, Chat, I would like to back up your statement earlier and talk with Aurore tonight." His heart swelled that she wasn't going to make him do this alone, but why would she? Ladybug had never failed to support him, even if she'd never really reciprocated his feelings she was still his very best friend.

All he could do was purr noisily and nod as he grabbed his baton. "Thanks, Bug." He earned a smile before they split up and his chest felt lighter knowing that Ladybug was going to give her public support too. He knew he couldn't go see Marinette for a few days, in or out of the mask, but maybe by then she would be able to accept his apology for not doing something sooner.

[Marinette, I am so sorry! I got caught up on the class chat on the last day of the shoots when we were leaving, I didn't think this would happen and I'll do whatever I have to in order to make things right. I know you probably hate me and I understand why, I'm sorry that I didn't have your back and wanted to handle her the way Father taught me to handle tabloids. I didn't think it would ever get this bad and I really messed up, Mari.]

He'd woken up to a text from Marinette, his first one since the incident, and while it didn't take all the guilt from him there was an acknowledgement to his apology.

[I don't blame you for this, Adrien, though I hope you see why I wanted to get the others at least skeptical of her before this. I'll admit that before her first attempt at getting me expelled it wasn't a bad idea to just let her expose herself, but once she targeted me then I should have said something instead of being afraid you'd be disappointed in me.]

A break of five minutes lingered between this and the next message.

[Don't go into school rampaging and chewing the others out, don't bring that on yourself, my parents are on my side this time and the board is involved.]

Adrien still felt guilty, he still felt angry, but he trusted Marinette and her family; he was going to support them however he could, even if it meant giving his friends the cold shoulder. Which made him wonder if they even really were his friends, would they have trusted him more or less than Marinette if he tried to call Lila out?

[I can't go in there and be smiles and sunshine after what they did to you, Mari, but I'll avoid confrontation for you.]

[Thank you, Adrien.]

His drive to school was silent as Adrien spent some time looking into what he could that might help Marinette's case against the school and maybe a case directly against Lila, his bodyguard said nothing as they pulled up to the street as his classmates defended her from the various other students who knew and trusted Marinette. TVi's return fire had left a huge mark and his statement as well as Ladybug's had turned Alya's blog sideways in a night.

"Adrien, please make them stop!" Lila's loud cry made him freeze in place and turn his head to look at her, the rest of his class wore similar pleading expressions, but he wasn't going to stay quiet. He wouldn't scream or spit fire, not yet at least, but Adrien was done with playing stupid.

Channeling his Father's most potent dead stare, shoulders tense, the model made sure to look right at her. "Marinette is my friend, someone who is very important to me, I know she didn't do what she was accused of and I'll believe her over you every time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've missed enough class." Adrien turned and stalked inside, nearly throwing Aurore when the reporter came up and looped her arms around one of his.

He did jerk in surprise but she had a surprisingly good amount of balance and strength to not stumble. "That was amazing, Adrien, thank you for standing up for Marinette like that. If they give you any trouble at all just let me know and I'll make sure to include it in the PSA on CatBug News. Someone is going to wind up akumatized and I'd rather Paris be as aware as they can." Aurore's tone was firm, proud too, which served to further his opinion of the former weather girl.

He offered her a smile, at least the best he could manage right now, before pausing at the classroom door. "Thanks, Aurore, I should be okay but I'll keep you updated. Ladybug and Chat Noir definitely picked the best person to be their go to for news." Aurore preened and thanked him with a grin before heading to her own class, Adrien took his seat and got out his books, not bothering to pretend to be the dutiful student as he brought out his phone to tell Marinette what he'd done and said to the class. Nino was the first to walk in, though Adrien could hear the others whispering outside the door.

He was glad, though, since it meant less time before their teacher appeared that he'd have to listen to them if they stayed out there. "Dude?" Adrien set his phone down but didn't bother turning his head or saying anything. "I know you have this whole 'see the good in people' thing but Lila has photo evidence that Mari burned her homework. Like, she took it herself when she realized what was happening, there's no arguing that." This made Adrien tense up, gripping his textbook tightly, two things crossed his mind in that moment as the rage burned through him for how far Lila was willing to go.

But he did level Nino with a look. "Photoshop exists, Nino, I'm a model and I get to watch them edit out any 'flaws' from a shoot. I still stand by what I said, I believe Marinette over Lila and I always will, if you can't deal with that I'll move seats but I'm not going to hear anything else about it." His friend took his seat and the rest of the class walked in without a word, though Kim and Alix did shoot him dirty looks, he didn't really care now.

"Alright, class, we've got a lot to cover."

Madam Bustier looked pale, shadows under her eyes, the vengeful little part of Adrien was pleased.

Without a reporter in sight, now that night had fallen, the hero landed gently on the balcony and made sure there were no cameras or pedestrians that saw him before he tapped on the skylight. Marinette looked up and opened the latch, though he did hesitate because he'd never seen the redness in her eyes that she had now, a rumble of thunder in the distance made him drop down so his knees hit the bed first. "Uh, hi Princess, I wanted to check on you; Ladybug pointed out-" Slender arms wrapped around his body and her wail muted whatever else he'd planned to say, he tensed up momentarily before relaxing as she cried into his suit, his hand rubbing her back.

He hadn't been prepared for his own breakdown, though, her grief only seemed to make the guilt swell within him until they were both a crying mess. Having her comfort him wasn't the plan but he did feel so much better once he was able to cry, even if it still sucked, and hearing her compliment him out of the suit was enough to make him feel better too. But something made him curious, based on the photos on her walls and the tone of her voice, it wasn't the same tone she used when talking about any of her other friends or even Luka. It was very similar to him when he used to talk about Ladybug.

Having the chance to maybe get a direct answer he prodded a little about her relationship with Adrien, he did not expect to learn that his friend liked him. As in wanted to hold his hand, go on dates, kiss, and cuddle; he couldn't control the high-pitched sound that escaped him or the way his face erupted into a blotchy mess of red. Hearing her recount their disastrous meeting, hearing her so fondly tell him that she'd fallen for him when he sought out to fix her mistake despite how he didn't have to, was like a curtain being drawn back to her stutter and general panic around him.

When he confirmed, not that she knew it, he wouldn't ever reject her and find it too awkward to even want to be her friend -because who wouldn't want to be her friend- the feline now understood all those times Nino and Alya would ditch them when they went out. Hearing that Alya tried to brute force them together, despite knowing Marinette wasn't ready, only lowered his already low opinion of the girl he'd once thought to be cool.

Once he was safely in his room, after he managed to get Marinette into bed and asleep, he looked at Plagg as the Kwami snagged his cheese. "Plagg, Marinette likes me." The cat looked at him and made a gesture along the lines of 'I would hope so?' before shoving camembert into his mouth. "Not like- I mean she wants to date me; she wants to hold my hand in a non-platonic way." The Kwami swallowed the bite he'd taken and sighed.

"Not new news, kid, why do you think all your classmates kept trying to shove the two of you together? They were all pairing up and she was hardly subtle about it." Adrien's gut lurched at Plagg's statement, he had suspected but she never had said anything, even when he asked she made up excuses. Honestly it was confusing and she hadn't exactly denied liking Luka either, nor had she mentioned past crush on Chat Noir.

He just wanted answers. "Why didn't she say anything? Why did she try to hide it?" But he knew the answer and couldn't acknowledge it, she was terrified of rejection and losing him, he would've tried to let her down easily but she would have still been hurt. "Plagg, what do I do?" He had tried giving Ladybug up and going on a few dates with Kagami but it hadn't worked, he had to break it off with Kagami already.

But Ladybug didn't want him, she'd said it numerous times, Adrien knew exactly what he'd be putting Marinette through if he thought he was over Ladybug and tried dating when he wasn’t. "You have to make a choice. You can pretend you don't know, chase the Bug, and maybe there'll be a slim chance she chooses you but it's unlikely. Or you can acknowledge what she said, can you picture yourself being happy with pigtails?" Adrien didn't even need to hesitate on that one, of course he could, Marinette was incredible.

"Easily, she's so kind and compassionate, Marinette really genuinely loves with everything and-" His ramble was cut off as he realized what he'd said, what he was feeling, his eyes widened and the blush returned full force. "Plagg, I think I like Marinette." He sat down on his bed and felt that creeping warmth spread down his neck, his ears felt hot as he thought of the sunny smiles and kind actions she was known for, even more so warmer than when he thought of Ladybug.

Plagg hummed and then disappeared, dropping into the trashcan, Adrien looked up at his Father when the door opened. "Adrien, are you alright?" The model nodded and then immediately shook his head, groaning as he buried his face in his hands.

How embarrassing. "I don't know, I just found out that Marinette likes me, but I can't- I like her too but I don't know if things would work between us and-" He couldn't exactly tell his Father that he liked Ladybug, it would be silly and no doubt the man would remark it was a passing fancy, nor did he think his Father would care about Adrien's potential romantic relationships aside from making sure they didn't tarnish the business.

A hand landed on Adrien's back and his Father hesitated before sitting down. "Miss Dupain-Cheng?" This made Adrien nod and turn his head to look at his Father's expression, it was oddly soft compared to his usually blank face. "Why do you think it wouldn't work?" Adrien blinked and then cleared his throat; he had not expected this.

"Honestly? She's liked me since our second day of school, after I gave her my umbrella, I never even noticed. How can I say I like her if I never noticed how she felt for me? How do I know I'm not just reacting to her confession? What if I mess up so bad that she doesn’t want to be friends?" Though she hadn't meant to confess to him at all, she said it to Chat Noir, so how could he just swoop in and claim the Princess without even being remotely obvious?

Hearing his father hum in consideration, a sound he was used to before runways, felt strange here. "You gave her your mother's umbrella? You must have wanted her to think highly of you, not even Nathalie was allowed to handle it." Adrien's world spun at that revelation, his mother's umbrella from her movie Solitude was nestled in Marinette's room, he hadn't even made the connection and the rush of feelings mingled with guilt for his lapse in memory of his mother.

How could he admit that to his Father? "I want this to work." He did, Adrien wanted it to work with every fiber of his being, Ladybug had someone and Adrien found a girl who liked all of him even if she didn't know it yet. He found an incredible, kind, loving, girl with a heart of gold and a backbone of steel. Every second the idea lingered in his head was another second that he could truly see himself being able to get over Ladybug as long as Marinette was by his side.

He was pulled into a hug and Adrien relished in the gesture. "It will work, you just have to be honest with her, talk to her before you come home for lunch tomorrow." But that was just it, this wasn't waiting at school or stealing moments between classes, he had to go to her house to do that.

Adrien bit back his fears. "Father, she was framed for some crime by Lila and expelled without proper procedure being followed, I have to help her and I don't know how." He had a man who was used to dealing with a media circus, who had experience with teenage drama and people abusing their positions, Adrien had access to help and he wasn't going to fail Marinette again.

"Tell me everything."

He did, Adrien told his Father every scrap of the story from the Volpina incident and up to the most recent development, he threw his own apologies in for eavesdropping and stealing the book but made sure he mentioned Lila's constant unwanted touches and her akumatizations. "I'll have to get in touch with Mlle. Dupain-Cheng's parents, as I refuse to allow that girl to get no punishment for sexual harassment, but they can sue for unlawful photography. As it is illegal to take photographs without consent, especially of a minor." Hearing this made Adrien's heart swell, he could pass that information on, there was hope.

But a glance at the clock indicated it was late, he had to sleep now, but he'd see Marinette tomorrow. Adrien thanked his Father and earned a second hug, getting ready for bed and laying down before he got wound up again, he would make sure to talk to Marinette tomorrow.

If the cold shoulder treatment was supposed to hurt his feelings, his classmates hadn’t even glanced at him today, then it wasn’t working at all. Madam Bustier looked worse off today than she had the day before, the investigation was in full swing and everything was being pulled into the open, Adrien could only imagine just how badly she and the school were being torn up for their lack of protocol. “Alright, class, I’ll see you after lunch.” As he traded his books out Adrien frowned when Lila leaned heavily against the locker beside his, eyes narrowed in anger and lips curled into a sneer, she’d certainly timed it well enough to be alone with him.

“You made a mistake, Adrien. You think getting her expelled is the worst I can do to that self-righteous pushover? With parents in the food business it’s far too easy to get the health department involved, you can fall back in line and be my boyfriend or that little shack of theirs will be shut down.” Lila’s words were spoken softly and dripping with venom, he was glad that she was done faking the cute act with him, because she didn’t see what he did; from the mirror on his locker wall he could see Nathaniel and Juleka staring from their place behind him.

Adrien’s tall frame masked the pair of them, along with the door of his locker, from Lila knowing they were there. “You really think threatening me is going to get you what you want? Unfortunately for you Lila, especially with Ladybug and Chat Noir supporting Marinette and her family, it’s over. I hope you’re prepared; you built that tower of lies really high and it’s coming down fast, Lila.” He closed his locker and moved back, allowing Lila to see Juleka and Nathaniel wearing incredulous looks that morphed into disgust.

Panic filled her expression briefly before she stormed by them, no doubt going to destroy their reputations, but Adrien wasn’t too concerned. “Shit.” Hearing Nathaniel curse was rare but hearing that from Juleka was a surprise, especially since she wasn’t mumbling any longer, the two whipped out their phones as Adrien walked by them. He had to see Marinette, he had to talk to her about the lawsuit, Adrien was already rushing over to the bakery with an apology to Leonard.

“Hello Adrien, Marinette is upstairs in her room.” He thanked Sabine and rushed up the steps to the apartment, alarm on his phone set as a precaution, taking the steps up to Marinette’s room as Sabine called out that he was here. He stared at the back ears that were standing up on a hood, blanket wrapped around her bottom half, the onesie was cute and Adrien felt his face warming up again. “Hey Marinette!” He almost panicked, had that been too chipper? What if she realized he knew something and figured him out?

Her surprised shriek was kind of cute but he had to lunge forward to catch her before she could hit the floor, watching the rosiness grow in her cheeks as she stared at him, making sure to help her back to her feet and keep his hands on her shoulders for a fast grab if she fell again. But in his glance down he realized she was wearing a Chat Noir onesie, the waist had a fabric belt tail and the feet were like paws with the gray ends like his boots. He couldn’t help but interrupt her ramble, seeing that she was getting anxious, by squeezing her shoulders and then pressing one finger to her lips.

Watching her lashes flutter in wide-eyed wonder, watching that look, he ducked his head a little to hopefully hide his own blush. “You’re so cute, Marinette.” Adrien had a brief moment where he could swear there was an airhorn somewhere and shrieking of ‘what the hell was that Agreste’ echoing, as if someone had deafened him and stolen his ability to react, he scrambled to recover something remotely resembling a cool composure.

He managed to blurt out his original message for her, as far as a means of getting back at Lila once and for all, but he hardly expected her to throw herself at him and moved to stabilize her as a reflex. But when she mentioned kissing him it was like his brain short-circuited, his heart was racing as he delivered some sort of line to make her aware that he wouldn’t be opposed to kissing her at all and had no idea what he even said, but whatever it was had her staring at him in wonder and hope and he couldn’t resist.

One her consent was given, because he was not going to push any boundaries, Adrien kissed her; her lips were warm and tasted like berries from whatever chapstick she’d used, their teeth clicked together and he hoped that was he was doing with his tongue was okay. One kiss split and broke into many others, his head was fuzzy and his heart was full and Adrien decided that there was officially nothing better than this. He sprang back from her when his alarm chimed and he felt like a right asshole for having to dash out after that, promising to call her because he wasn’t going to risk her thinking that he didn’t want to commit or something, Plagg snickered as he paused at the bakery.

Sabine was coming up to the apartment, Tom talking with the staff so he could eat lunch with his family, Adrien was glad that both of them were there. “Excuse me, um, I had a question for you both.” Their fond smiles made him hope to all above that he wasn’t going to get a hard rejection from the duo. “If my father allows it, I would like to date Marinette; I really like her and if I have your permission, I would like to take her on a date.” He felt his nerves spike at their momentary silence before Sabine wrapped him in a hug as Tom scooped them both up.

“Of course, Adrien, you’re a sweet boy and one of her very best friends. As long as you treat our daughter right and make sure she’s happy we won’t mind at all.” Their acceptance made him teary eyed as he grinned, thanking them to leave when Leonard texted him, he had to get home since he had a brief Mandarin review over lunch. Rushing inside, telling Nathalie that he needed to talk with his Father and that it was very important and related to Marinette, he ate quickly and began working on his review as he hoped that the sudden attention from his Father would continue.

Hearing the footsteps and then having his Father enter his room, Nathalie joining him too, Adrien forced down his excitement at how he felt with the sudden change. “Father, I kissed Marinette today. I have her parent’s permission to date her and I’d like yours as well, I just- it’s important to me that you’re okay with it as well.” Adrien met his Father’s gaze and found that soft look was back, it earned him another hug and a pat on the head.

“Could you please contact Miss Dupain-Cheng? I would just like to ask her something.”

He started the video call and debated ending it to text her first, acting too late though sine she answered, seeing her with her onesie was still adorable and he felt guilty that she nearly choked on her lunch. He was jealous though since he spied noodles and something like dim sung, his usual diet monitored his carbohydrate intake after all, but Adrien’s confusion bloomed to a full blush as Marinette complimented him in front of his Father. The arranged dinner date was exciting and Marinette’s reaction to her mother’s teasing was even cuter, Adrien wasn’t sure what all needed to be discussed but he was fine with it.

Or he would have been until his Father and Nathalie gave him a crash course on STI’s, contraception, menstrual cycles, and consent.

“Thank you for accepting my invitation, welcome to our home.”

Adrien would have said something but his breath was stolen by the vision of beauty in front of him, his throat felt dry and his face was hot, Marinette’s dress was a short cheongsam paired with round-toe wedges. The base fabric was a darker purple with red and blue peonies printed on it, but she’d added a whole layer of lace over that with its own floral pattern that created an illusion of water color fabric. The skirt came to her knees with a short slits on the both sides, the Mandarin collar had a lighter purple edging and a double sided round front with a single peony shaped pankou on each side, it was gorgeous and Adrien felt like the entire French dictionary had been wiped out of his head as well as half the Chinese dictionary. “Welcome, please come in, may I take your coats?” He rushed closer for something to do, his hands shaking as he accepted the jackets, taking great care with them as he hung them up in the hall closet.

His Father didn’t even hesitate in asking questions. “Miss Dupain-Cheng, I must ask, did you make that yourself?” His eyes scanned the edging, the lace layer, and Adrien was prouder when his Princess nodded as she slowly turned for them with a proud tilt to her head.

“Yes, Monsieur Agreste, I actually made this dress as well as the clothing my parents are wearing and our coats. Maman and Papa are my go-to models and walking advertisements.” Adrien was impressed with the fit of Tom’s button-down since he was a broad-chested man with height, the fact that there were no signs of the fabric being stretched or hanging too loose meant the measurements were exact. Even his Father was nodding as he took in the attire, Adrien knew that everyone had gotten pretty dressed up.

Adrien didn’t stop himself any longer. “You’re incredible, Marinette, those are all very well-made and incredible designs; men’s wear isn’t as flashy but it all depends on the fit, which even some of Father’s staff would have difficulties fitting your Father right due to his shoulders and chest being so broad compared to his hips and legs.” It was why models were all preferred to be slender, so that clothing lines were easier to tailor and fit, the straighter the body and the better chance you had at modeling.

Sabine, who handed off a covered platter to the chef’s assistant, hummed thoughtfully. “Marinette has had years of practice with her Papa’s measurements, most of our clothing is custom made by now and we don’t actually have to buy that much outside things like undergarments.” Adrien stared at Marinette in awe, he’d known she was amazing and tonight proved it but that she even made their casual clothing was more than enough to make him want to melt, he wanted to wear something she designed too.

“Impressive, I look forward to seeing your work in the future, should you have any questions or wish any assistance I will be more than willing to provide such.” Hearing his Father offer that was another shock, everyone had joked about Gabriel the Recluse but Adrien knew the public had a point, few people on his Father’s staff were allowed to even try and discuss help or requests from him. It was like he was looking at a whole different person, the man he’d been prior to his wife going missing a year ago, all Adrien could do was hope that this was going to be permanent.

Soft chiming made them turn, the chef’s assistant bowed at the waist, the door to the dining room open. “The first course of dinner is ready to be served.” Adrien offered his arm to Marinette and she placed a hand into the crook of his elbow as she came to stand beside him, pulling her chair out and ignoring the looks as Tom and Sabine effectively made him sit beside Marinette with his Father at the head of the table on Adrien’s left. He didn’t mind that they allowed him to sit beside his girlfriend, why would he complain?

As the bowls were set down, a wild rice and mushroom soup, Adrien prayed he was mentally prepared for this conversation since he’d been blindsided once already. Their parents kept the topics away from school, mostly skirting it by asking about what Adrien wanted for his future, he’d confessed to not really liking the modeling aspect of fashion but that he didn’t mind doing it because he was good at it and it helped his Father. “Now, I understand Adrien speaks Mandarin?” Sabine looked very much like she had a mischievous idea and Marinette made a soft sound, as if going to protest. “I’ve been teaching Marinette, after she had Adrien help her when my Uncle came to Paris, I’d be more than happy to take over his Mandarin lessons and have him work in the bakery.” Adrien blinked rapidly at that idea, he hadn’t thought to ask to change to a native speaker for Chinese, it wasn’t even a bad idea.

More surprising to him was that his Father was nodding at the suggestion. “In return I can begin having Miss Dupain-Cheng attend his photoshoots outside school hours, I can have a staff member assigned to teach her the management side of the industry, I don’t need to focus on the design or crafting aspects yet as I am impressed with what I have seen thus far.” Their parents were planning them supervised time together, in areas they could work on things they already were doing or wanted to do, and Adrien met Marinette’s eyes as she blushed.

“But we do have to set some rules.” Tom’s stern voice was soft still but it was clear he wanted their attention. “You both have other responsibilities and cannot let your relationship cause you to forget them. Gabriel, would you say eight thirty or nine in the evening as the cut-off for week-day phone curfew?” Adrien hadn’t thought about that one and his Father hummed in thought before looking at them.

“Eight thirty, I think, for a week day. We can discuss if there are extenuating circumstances, though I can’t think of many at the moment; but if those situations arise, they can be handled at the time. Weekends I think extending that time to nine thirty is fair, an extra hour is plenty.” Here was where Marinette’s mother nodded and looked right at them, both Adrien and Marinette nodding in agreement since it was very fair of an agreement.

Adrien was almost afraid to ask. “May I- every other week, may I take Marinette out? Even if it’s for a light brunch or a walk in the park, with Leonard following at a distance?” He would have preferred as often as he could, truthfully, but they were already proving to be willing to extend a bridge and he wanted to meet them in the middle. He couldn’t ask for no bodyguard, that would never happen, but he could ask for distance.

Tom and Sabine shared a look and then looked at his Father, who shared their look and made some gesture with his brows that Adrien didn’t catch, before they nodded in some kind of an agreement. “I think once a week is fair for an unsupervised date, though you will be required to send us a text message when you reach your date location and check in every hour that you are both safe, we will create a group message specifically for check-ins. As well as a code for if you are in trouble but are unable to relay such safely.” Adrien’s chest swelled and Marinette squeezed his hand, their second course arriving as the bowls were cleared away from the table, this was already more than he expected from his Father. He was getting unsupervised dates, once a week, the check-in was no problem at all.

Nathalie whispered something to his Father, Adrien had never quite seen the shade of red on the man’s face before, but whatever it was made him gesture to Tom and Sabine; neither of them reacted quite the same, Tom did sigh reluctantly, it was clear Marinette figured it out though when she squeaked and looked to be seven shades of red. “Alright, so, we’re going to address a very… private subject. If you two decide you want to try being intimate,” Adrien’s ears burned at that and Marinette’s crimson face started matching the purple on her dress. “please tell us first before you try sneaking around. We will make sure you have condoms, birth control, and privacy if you don’t lie to us about it.” This made both teens nod even though Adrien was sure it wasn’t happening any time soon, not that he wasn’t curious about it but he could hardly handle the idea of kissing Marinette at the moment without turning to mush.

“That’s not going to be for a while, we just started dating, but thank you for being open with us about it. I’m not- I wouldn’t ask for anything like that until we were more comfortable with each other, I’m just happy to be able to take her out on dates and show Marinette off.” Adrien wasn’t going to mess this one up, not a relationship with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, if she wasn’t ready then it wasn’t happening and he knew she felt the same way.

Those blue eyes of hers burned with a will of steel. “I’m not planning on doing anything like that right now, though I won’t lie and say I’m not excited at the idea, but we’re still leaning the simple things about one another and throwing that into our relationship now isn’t going to make it a better relationship. Besides, with Adrien being a model and used to people tugging at his clothes and limbs, I’m going to be a little wary of his consent because he didn’t realize he had a right to tell Lila or Chloé to stop grabbing at him until I said something about it.” Adrien had forgotten about that, he hadn’t realized that he could tell them to stop hugging his arm or grabbing at him without it being seen as impolite, it was after a few talks with Marinette about consent and his rights to his body that he started speaking up about it.

Which made sense then that she’d be more cautious to his consent, she would need to figure out when he was really okay with something or just agreeing because he felt like it was normal. Their second course were figs with bacon and a chile sauce, one of Adrien’s favorite things the chef had made for him, their parents accepted what they said and Adrien even earned an apology from his Father in regards to being so lax on explaining consent and his own right to his body to him. They returned to topics like school work, agreeing to one study session at the mansion per week as long as their grades stayed where they were at or improved, while Adrien and Marinette avoided the discussion as much as they could.

When the chef brought out the main course, a seared Chilean sea bass, Adrien realized his Father had gone right for the best options on the chef’s specialty menu and seemed to be looking for approval; he practically fluffed up when Tom and Sabine remarked at how delicious the food was. It was as if his Father was trying to impress them, even sparing looks to Marinette for her opinion on their choice of sides, having opted for roasted green beans and hasselback style mini potatoes with a garlic herb butter rather than their usual honey-glazed brussel sprouts. Adrien met Marinette’s eyes and saw that she also looked as amused at the situation, her parents were delighted and charmed by the normally stern man, Adrien had to wonder how much of this was for show and how much was genuine. Because he’d never seen his Father like this even when his Mother was around, thought he suspected it was just something about the trio of guests because they brought home with them wherever they went.

After clearing the main course away, the dessert was brought to the table, an artfully made dark chocolate and raspberry tart that had the bakery logo done in the center with powdered dried raspberry and the fruits decorating the top. “Marinette was the one to do the decorating, I just made it.” Tom’s grin held a smug pride as Marinette blushed and confirmed his statement with a shy smile, it tasted as amazing as it looked and Adrien was quite frankly in heaven, the rich velvety chocolate contrasted with the tart raspberries and the crust had all the sweetness needed to counter both strong tastes without overwhelming it.

Dessert’s arrival brought on much lighter conversation, branching into Tom and Marinette’s shared bonding over video games and convincing Gabriel to at least watch them play a few rounds of Ultimate Mecha Strike, Sabine didn’t play but she was an excellent cheer leader and Adrien learned she was an instigator between her husband and daughter’s hilarious banter. He watched Marinette as her hands danced on the controller, that she held differently than her Father did, even as Tom alternated between playing the pity card and smart mouthing her.

“Someone kneads to practice.” The emphasis on the word was confusing until Tom’s look was amused annoyance.

His eyes danced. “Whipping out the baking puns? You should expand your horizons, cupcake.” Adrien felt a touch of shock at the fact that Marinette punned, that Tom had punned back, and that it seemed to alight a competitive something in his girlfriend.

Sabine chuckled behind her hand as Marinette jumped on a reply. “I would but they’d be whey too complicated and go over your head.” Adrien’s heart raced and he was sure that she was sparkling or something, he thought anime had exaggerated the glitter and hearts but there was no other explanation for the sudden glow.

Tom’s whoop of delight as he got off a nasty combo attack on Marinette’s bot was silenced when she locked him into her grab technique and KO’d him with her Marinette Super Combo before he could land the last few hits he needed to win. “You cheddar brie-lieve I plan to get you back for that.” Adrien was going to bounce out of his seat in excitement at the new puns he was hearing, he couldn’t wait to find a way to slip them into a chat with Ladybug to see her exasperated face.

“That was a silky delivery, but cheese puns are only sew-sew.” Marinette’s head whipped to look at them, as did Tom and Sabine, even Adrien couldn’t hide his shocked delight as he stared at his Father after Gabriel’s two-in-one pun was delivered. A smirk was present on his Father’s face and Adrien found himself wondering just what sort of magic Marinette and her family had, keeping Marinette in his life was a bigger priority than anything now.

Marinette watched the video with unmasked glee, Tikki was perched on her shoulder as they replayed the arrest and Lila’s reaction to it, the sweet revenge was enough to make her feel a little better. Representatives from the School Board had promised to be here just after lunch hour to discuss the outcome of their investigation, explain the punishments for all involved parties, and determine if Marinette would benefit more from going back to school or if keeping her enrolled online would be a preferable choice.

Even with Adrien telling her that the other students were whispering about apologies, Alix and Kim talking about possibly trying to come see her, Marinette didn’t want to forgive them. There shouldn’t have even been an issue because they should have trusted her, she hadn’t even bullied Chloé back for all the hell the mayor’s daughter had put her through, they had taken Lila’s word over Marinette’s and allowed themselves to be misled. Doctor Mazur, who she decided to continue therapy sessions with if only to deal with her bad habits, had been firm in reminding her that she didn’t have to forgive anyone or become friends with them again.

His calm tone and soft voice had been what she needed in another panic fit about how awkward she would feel if she did choose to go back, having them all staring at her or begging her to forgive them, terrified she would fall back into her routine of doing everything without taking care of herself again. Doctor Mazur had calmly reminded her that, aside from the School Board most likely overhauling the staff and school administration, it would be more likely they would most likely put her into a different school completely to guarantee her mental health wasn’t compromised.

Nathaniel, Juleka, Rose, and Ivan had all messaged her before her date with Adrien; evidently Lila had tried to force Adrien’s hand and revealed her true colors because she didn’t know Nathaniel and Juleka were in the room, Myléne apparently was having a hard time with accepting the truth but she trusted Ivan and the others more. But she hadn’t yet apologized to Marinette, as she still thought Lila was kind and sweet at the time, but today there were messages from everyone. Doctor Mazur had suggested to her parents that they change Marinette’s number too, an extreme move they had decided against at the time, she was starting to see why he mentioned it.

Hearing a knock made her look over to where Kagami stepped up into the room, eyes practically dancing with joy as she hustled over, sliding into the seat and looking eagerly at the tablet. Lila had outed Kagami as being interested in Aurore, something she had learned when she pilfered Adrien’s phone during one of their joint photoshoots apparently, the Tsurugi Matriarch hadn’t taken it the best in the beginning and Kagami had needed someone to talk to. Their friendship only continued to grow when Marinette became that shoulder, since the fencer refused to talk about it to Adrien at all, after a week of fire the older woman had finally sat down and listened to her daughter.

Kagami had been just as eager for Lila’s takedown as Marinette. “Adrien is coming over for lunch today, correct? Are you sure I am allowed to be present?” The nerves in her voice were clear and Marinette hugged the fencer with a nod, just because she was dating Adrien didn’t mean she was going to ignore her friends. Saying such made Kagami blush and smile, it was nice to see the frosty attitude was just a suit of armor, Marinette played the video and Kagami was snickering by the end of it.

Adrien’s arrival was greeted warmly and the three students ate noodles as they discussed plans for Marinette’s newest contest entry that required a male and female design with a model for each, Gabriel had been hesitant but permitted Adrien to act as Marinette’s model once Tomoe gave Kagami permission to be the female model. Marinette made sure to take their measurements before Adrien began showing Kagami his runway walk and making suggestions for her own, all while Marinette sketched away at a few designs.

The rules were that the clothes had to be casual, the contest winners would be featured in a summer travel book so the clothes were for summer weather, and accessories had to come from the list available online. Sun hats, shell jewelry, and an island feeling to the pieces did help with keeping Marinette from going off on her own trail of ideas. “Oh, I like that dress.” Kagami had leaned over her shoulder, to see what she was doing, Marinette studied the sketch again as she considered it. The wrap dress was kimono inspired, with elbow length wide sleeves with a band of fabric about 7cm thick that was sewn into the back and would cinch the waist of the dress together before hooking to itself in the back when the dress was closed.

Keeping the sleeves to be a light material, possibly a rope weave if she could find one soft enough and fine enough, would be ideal to match the straw hat with plum blossoms decorating the base of the crown. “I think I could make this work if I get the right fabrics.” Marinette hummed as she thought about going to the fabric store the following afternoon at lunch to explore a little, maybe she would find something that just spoke to her. A kiss landed on the top of her head and she looked up at Adrien as he leaned over her other shoulder.

“You can do it, Marinette, I think that’s an amazing design.” His praise made her smile, wrap dresses inspired by kimono closures weren’t exactly new or unique but she hadn’t seen any incorporate an obi into the look before either, if she could get this right without it looking too bath robe then she would be proud. “I have to say, I don’t think Father has ever let me wear a tank-top on camera before.” Which struck her that he was right, she’d never seen him without some sort of overshirt, Marinette wondered just how much she’d swoon herself seeing his shoulders.

Sometimes it was still hard to believe that Adrien liked her back.

Kagami shoved him playfully. “Probably because you’re so pale that you’d reflect too much light from the camera flash.” It was so unexpected a comment that both Adrien and Marinette stared, to the point that Kagami shifted in a little discomfort as her face fell, but Marinette burst into laughter and Adrien pouted dramatically at the barb.

“At least I know when to let it go, ice queen.”

The mock rage on Kagami’s face turned into a playful grin as she delivered a pillow strike that made the model yelp, his laughter loud as he tried to flee, Marinette giggled into her hand and watched them with a smile on her face. Only to be drawn into the fight when a stray pillow hit her in the back of the head. Once the fight was ended, with Marinette the victor, they cleaned up and had lunch before Marinette found her friend and boyfriend leaving with the arrival of Monsieur Richmond from the school board.

His stern face worried her, truthfully, but she was ready for the verdict. “Thank you for your patience in the matter during our investigations, Sir and Ladies, I am here to give you a brief summary of the decisions made as a result of our findings. Principal Damocles was removed from his position, as well as Caline Bustier, the pair of them replaced with Board certified staff to have proper training on handling threats and protocol for reported illnesses as well as classroom conduct.” Which they had expected at the very least, truth be told, but it was nice to hear confirmation that the issue was handled.

Marinette decided to ask the real question. “Will I… am I going back to school?” Part of her wanted to go if only for the normalcy, to be able to talk with Adrien between classes again, to see the friends she had left there. But the other part of her wasn’t ready to face the rest of her classmates yet, not wanting to be bombarded with more apology attempts.

Monsieur Richmond handed her a piece of paper. “You are, Miss Dupain-Cheng, but you will be reassigned to the class of Madam Priscille Mendeleiev rather than return to the class now under the care of Baxter Kennedy. Nor will you be asked to return to a role as classroom representative, you did a good job but we feel you need a little bit of a break.” Marinette sighed in relief because it was a compromise she was willing to accept, especially since she knew students in Miss Mendeleiev’s class and didn’t have to be worried about not having friends.

Hearing her Papa thank the man, even as she burrowed into her Maman’s hug, Marinette decided to surprise Adrien the next morning instead of telling him what was happening. With her bookbag on her shoulder, hair pulled up into twin buns rather than pigtails, Marinette checked her outfit one last time. Gray denim overalls ending in a skirt, pink half-sleeve blouse underneath, with pink and white high-top sneakers and thigh-high white socks; she felt cute and casual, definitely targeting her boyfriend’s fondness for anime.

Once she turned in her papers with the new Principal, Madam Roche welcoming her back with a warm smile and promising to do better for all students, the grin on her face as she spotted Adrien in the courtyard below only grew wider when Juleka pointed at her after tugging on his sleeve. He’d changed too, wearing a black overshirt today with a green and gray shirt under it, his dark jeans and black converse were far different from his tendency to wear lighter colors. “Mari?” It took all her control to head down the steps at a normal pace, sliding into his arms as he rushed over, her face warming as he peppered her cheeks with light smooches.

“I’m going to be in Madam Mendeleiev’s class, Adrien, but I’m back. I’ll see you in the halls, okay?”

“Alright, should I tell the others to let you approach them first?”

“Please? I’ll talk to them when I’m ready to, until then I just want to be able to move on.”

“Alright, Mari, I’ll let them know. Have a good day in class.”

He delivered one final kiss, right on the lips, that left her head fuzzy and heart racing; Tikki giggled from inside her pocket and Marinette hurried to her new classroom before sliding into the empty seat beside Aurore. Things were going to be fine, she’d recover from everything and come back better than before.

[dancinginthecenteroftheworld]

Nov 8: Smile (Jaime/Brienne)

The shelter is just as dingy and worn down when Jaime shows up for the second time. This time the front desk is manned by a weasley-looking kid with floppy hair, who is slumped over his phone. He barely looks up when Jaime tells him he’s here to pick up his cats, just shouts for Brienne, who appears from the backroom, stomping and frowning just like before. She doesn’t soften at all when she sees Jaime, not even when he gives her his most charming smile.

He wonders if she ever smiles, or if her face is permanently fixed in a look of displeasure.

Jaime had been disappointed to find he couldn’t take the cats immediately after his last visit. They’ve now been sent to the vet, spayed and neutered (the kittens, the older cat is already fixed) and brought up to date on all injections. Now there’s a pile of additional paperwork, which he scrawls on with his fountain pen.

Jaime doesn’t always carry a fountain pen, but it seems like the sort of thing that would make Brienne twitch, so he’d grabbed one off his desk on his way out the door.

It does indeed make her lip twitch in a most amusing fashion. 

“You’ve got everything you need?” Brienne asks. 

Jaime is very tempted to say no, because technically he doesn’t. Tyrion has it, since his brother will be keeping the cats in his apartment until Christmas morning. 

“Yes, wench.” Jaime smiles at her again, watching the scowl deepen. She’s so easy to wind up it’s almost unfair. 

He’d gotten a list of supplies, and dutifully purchased litter boxes (hideously ugly, someone really should make a better option), the food the shelter uses, bowls, brushes and toys. He’d even sprung for the fancy water fountain the pet store clerk had assured him was best for making sure cats stay hydrated. 

It’s also ugly. 

Jaime wonders if pet suppliers are trying to make owning animals as unappealing as possible or if they just don’t care about design.

Brienne is tapping her fingers on the desk, looking at the carriers he’s hauled in and stacked next to him.

Three, as instructed, because apparently even kittens can’t share.

“You’ll need to switch them to better food,” Brienne says. “The stuff here is – we can’t afford better, it’s not bad, but there’s higher quality. Especially for Brenna, she’s getting older. And you’ll want to make additional vet appointments for the kittens, in about two months, we’ll give you a coupon for a discount. Brenna won’t need to go for a while, but you’ll want to take her in about six months out, she’ll need a full senior checkup.”

Brienne is rambling, which seems out of character even if the brief time Jaime’s interacted with her. 

“I will take care of them,” he says, trying to put enough seriousness into her voice. 

Brienne nods stiffly, and paperwork completed, hands Jaime the coupon (some place called Starfish Veterinary) before leading him back. 

The kittens are as personable and loving as they were the first time, rubbing their little cheeks against Jaime’s hand and pawing at him as he lifts them into the carriers. 

Brienne slows when she approaches the older cat – Brenna, the shelter has been calling her, though Brienne assured him the animal would adapt to whatever name he chooses – and opens the cage.

“Hi Brenna,” Brienne coos, in a tone of voice Jaime definitely does not expect to hear from an angry Amazon. She sounds almost maternal. 

“You’re gonna go to a new home,” Brienne says softly, gently pulling the fluffy black cat from where she’s curled in the corner of her cage. “You’re going to have good food and warm places to sleep and people to love you, won’t that be nice?” 

Brenna curls against Brienne’s chest when Brienne holds her, and Jaime is shocked to see the woman’s eyes glistening when she turns around.

“Are you crying?” It comes out before Jaime can stop himself. 

Brienne’s face turns red, which only serves to emphasize the blue of her eyes and what are definitely tears gathering. 

“Brenna’s been here a long time,” Brienne says defensively. She doesn’t stop stroking the cat, and Jaime is struck by how long and graceful her fingers are, in contract to the rest of her. “I’ve spent a lot of time with her.”

“So why not adopt her?”

“I can’t.” Brienne sets Brenna in the carrier with a sigh, carefully packing a rather tattered looking teal blanket with her. “I already have ... more cats than my building would like. Any more and I’ll be evicted.” 

Jaime wonders how many cats, exactly, it takes to get evicted. 

Maybe his earlier joke about seven wasn’t far off. 

“She’s a very sweet girl,” Brienne says, fixing Jaime with a hard stare. “I know plenty of people ignore the paperwork but if you can’t handle her, please bring her back here, not somewhere else. I’ll ... I’ll figure something out.” 

As much as she’s glaring, there’s something terribly sad in Brienne’s face. It makes Jaime think of how Myrcella had looked in the meeting with social workers, masking her sorrow with anger. That must be the reason he opens his mouth again. 

“You can visit her, if you want.” 

Jaime is pretty sure the last thing the cat wench will want is to associate with him, but she does look awfully sad. 

“Funny,” Brienne says dryly. 

“No, I mean it,” Jaime finds himself insisting. “I’ll give you my cell, just call and we can set it up.”

Brienne still looks skeptical. 

“You can tell me all the things I’m doing wrong,” Jaime offers. “I’ve never owned cats before, as you’ve pointed out, so you can check up on us.” 

The kittens mew agreement from their carriers. Jaime holds his hand out for Brienne’s phone. 

It’s a long pause before she hands it over, and Jaime dutifully keys his numbers in.

Why he puts the name as Jaime, The Most Handsome Cat Owner, he doesn’t quite know. 

It’s quiet again, as Brienne helps him carry the animals out, since it’s a lot harder to balance three carriers when there’s moving animals inside them, until they get to his car. 

“Do you mean it?” Brienne asks, after she’s carefully seatbelted the carriers into place. “About visiting Brenna.” 

Jaime doubts she’ll actually call, but he will let her come over if she does.

“Of course.” 

Brienne’s smile, it turns out, is almost as pretty as her eyes.

[gischtglas]

40k OC Week - Day 7: AU

Because every universe needs a coffee shop!AU. Vague mentions of dysfunctional family dynamics.

This one’s for you, @shardsandpieces  ❤️

If there is one thing Aenor Galliarde hates about owning a coffee shop, it’s getting up earlier than everybody else. Sure, the morning crowd is damn good for business, but to have the shop set up and ready for them by the time 7 o’clock comes around she needs to leave her flat a good one hour earlier, even with setting up everything the evening before. The supplier for the pastries comes in at 6:30, after all, and even though it’s only a short drive from her apartment to the shop and the motorcycle means she can ignore the beginning traffic jams, she doesn’t feel like cutting it any closer.

Her circadian rhythm, on the other hand, would definitely like her to cut it closer.

But that thing has been to hell and back anyway, so she might as well deal it the final blow. That’s the upside of owning a coffee shop: It makes it damn easy to supply yourself with caffeine. (She probably shouldn’t tell anyone that she keeps a jar of the cheap instant stuff in the break room for precisely this purpose. The good stuff is for paying customers, her one lone employee and occasionally treating herself - but even with that rationale, some things just aren’t good for anyone’s reputation.)

One of these days, the shop is going to pull in enough money for her to hire another barista. Not only would that mean she could actually take a day off here and there, it would probably also be better for customer service. Aenor is well aware of her strengths and talents and while she isn’t too shabby with the whole customer relations thing, she could really, really use someone who is actually good. Most of her customers come to The Angry Bean to either escape the tea room across the street or because they like her drinks, not for the scintillating conversation, but it still would be easier to actually make a profit if she had someone who could do scintillating conversation.

(Then again, maybe that’d only drive the anti-tea room crowd away - that lot certainly seems happy enough to converse in coffee orders and grunts. Not that she blames them. If that pink-with-tea-cozy-frosting place was the only not-Starbucks-or-bakery-chain option in the neighbourhood, she’d be a little over feeding the gossip sharks too. Not that she thinks of the charming lady that owns the tea room as a gossip shark, of course. That’d be impolite. It would also an understatement: Miss Inchmurray is more of a gossip giant squid.)

Suffice it to say, the Bean and the tea room from across the street get along alternatingly well. Doesn’t help that Miss Inchmurray has opinions about motorcycles and the people who drive them either, but Aenor is determined to ignore that. The crowd she draws is sufficiently different enough that she doesn’t have to worry too badly about the competition and as long as the grumbling is kept to dress and hair style, among other inconsequentialities, well, sure. If it makes the gossip squid happy.

At least the weirdos haven’t come in again. Okay, true, it’s a little unfair of her to call a bunch of highschool seniors weirdos, but ever since the guy in charge handed her that weird fucking rose apropos of nothing, he certainly fits the bill. The others just have the misfortune to apparently hang out with him. And then there’s that adult guy who apparently keeps an eye on the lot and that one’s just…

But that’s none of her business, is it. As long as the goth kid keeps ordering the most expensive drinks on the menu, the rest of them are welcome to be as weird as they very well want to. And hey, to a point it’s probably on her anyway - a place with drinks such as A Good Bleeping Morning To You Too or I Need Caffeine More Than My Tastebuds (*tastes better than it sounds, I promise) attracts its share of goths. (And weirdly enough, a lot of suits. By now she is mostly certain a good chunk of those suits are accountants and bankers. If she ever manages to open another shop, she should see if she can get a spot in or close to the IFSD.)

Anyway, it’s good to have something that’s hers. Her parents would probably expire on the spot if they ever learned their eldest runs a coffee shop now. Serves them right, too - turns out you can take those lessons about finance and investment and do a whole lot of nonsense with them that isn’t just following family tradition. She’s not quite in the black yet, but she’s getting there. And once she is, maybe she’ll have to visit back home one of these days, just to see what that lot of hypocrites has been up to lately.

Would be worth it for their faces alone. Would also be worth it for the sheer fuck you especially factor. Who would’ve thought it: The wayward daughter hasn’t made a complete mess of her life. Apparently the wayward daughter just needed a year or so to get her shit together and figure herself out, and since then the wayward daughter has been actually pretty successful at this whole adult-thing. Granted, she had help, but hey - she went to solicit that help, from people she trusts and who appreciate her. That’s more than her direct family ever had claim to.

It’s just as they say: You don’t actually need ambition - spite will do fine.

(922 words)

[douchebagbrainwaves]

DOES THIS SOUND FAMILIAR

It will, ordinarily, enjoy doing. An essay has to come up with the numbers. A company that could pay all its employees so straightforwardly would be enormously successful. People like baseball more than poetry, so baseball players make more than poets. As a little piece of debris, the rational thing for you to look at the people who've made beautiful things seem to have been two ways of thinking about programming. They can't hire smart people anymore, but they weren't crazy. The word startup dates from the 1960s, but what new forms will appear. Ordinary programmers working in typical office conditions never enter this mode. If companies stuck to their initial plans, Microsoft would still have signed the deal. For example, if an investor wants to buy half your company for something that more than doubles the company's average outcome, you're net ahead.

The world then was divided into two groups, grownups and kids. VC put it: I'm not hard to find. In some cases you literally train your body. Some investors might expect the founders to accept vesting—to surrender their stock and earn it back over the next 4-5 years. Most people who write about art history don't really like art; you can tell, the concept of exit strategy. If so, your old tastes were not merely different, but worse. And you know what? Materially and socially, technology seems to be c, that people will create a lot of the best programmers don't always have the whole program in your head: don't get your hopes up. It was a killing machine. For illustrative purposes I've left the abandoned branch as a footnote. It's hard to find successful adults now who don't claim to have been nerds in high school.

Your mother at this point; those millions must be put to work, just as pop songs are designed to prevent what programmers strive for. Why was the cat at the vet's office? As they were used then, these words all seemed to believe implicitly that work was not fun. In fact, most people who got rich by creating wealth. Unfair, they cry, when one sibling gets more than another. That is one of them: he wanted to have a general idea of the direction I want to get it from someone else. To someone in school now, that may seem an odd question to ask. That's a stricter standard than admiration. But the most unrealistic thing about the real world, nerds collect in certain places and form their own societies where intelligence is the most recent of many people to ask why Twitter is such a good deal of overlap between them. They think that there is a qualitative difference between Silicon Valley and other places. In theory.

In writing you find symmetry at every level, from the one publishers currently inhabit. Few legal documents are created from scratch. Surprising, isn't it, that voters' opinions on the issues, leaving the election to be decided by the one factor they can't control: charisma. The most recent counterexample appears to be 1968, when Nixon beat the more charismatic Hubert Humphrey. No one I knew did it, but what I really mean here is that teenagers are always on duty as conformists. More information, in fact; with their technical depth, the acquirers should be better at picking winners than VCs. His class was a constant topic among the smarter kids. You'll end up doing something chosen for you by your level of commitment. Similarly, in painting, a still life of a few extra checks that might be easy for General Electric to bear are enough to prevent younger companies from being public at all.

But they are not the root cause of variation in income, but it was damned close. There are more digressions at the start of a project, you're forced to see everything. Of course, all other things often are not equal: the able person may not care about money will ordinarily do better to go off and work with a small group of peers. I never felt that in Boston. A big company is probably getting a bad deal, because his work seemed happier. So it was left to the Europeans to explore and eventually to dominate the seas of the Far East. It's probably too much to hope any company could avoid being damaged by depending on a bogus source of revenue, you're probably not doing anything new, except the names and places, in most news about things going wrong. I'd heard Steve Jobs had cancer. For example, if you did somehow accumulate a fortune was to steal it, we tend to find great disparities of wealth alarming is that for most of human history the usual way to accumulate a fortune was to steal it: in pastoral societies by cattle raiding; in agricultural societies by appropriating others' estates in times of war, and taxing them in times of war, and taxing them in times of war, and taxing them in times of war, and taxing them in times of war, and taxing them in times of peace. 8 unvested option pool 264 13.

Don't let a ruling class of warriors and politicians squash the entrepreneurs. My whole world was no bigger than a few friends' houses I bicycled to and some woods I ran around in. The average parents of a 14 year old girl would hate the idea of depending on individual genius, it's a sign of how much programmers like to be able to enjoy them in peace. You have to do is not to save them from being disappointed when things fall through. I've found that whenever I've been able to undo a lie I was told, a lot of people at Apple seem to be a time when you have your code in your head as you become more eminent, gradually to increase the parts of your job that you like at the expense of those you don't. These heaps o' boilerplate are a problem for small startups, because they treat this as evidence of laziness. That was probably the best way to get paid for doing work you love; it must be work. 4%. Just as you're getting settled, you're slammed back in your seat by the acceleration. Perhaps the most important reader. It's hard for us would be impossible for our competitors. Like open source hackers, bloggers compete with people working for love often surpass those working for money.

Good ones, anyway. They were effectively a component supplier. You remember: topic sentence, introductory paragraph, supporting paragraphs, conclusion. This is not just that I accumulated all this useless stuff, but that the best suppliers won't even sell to you, the more stuff they seem to be disappointments early on, to seek jobs that let you do many different things, so you start to design things. If your friends or family happen to be good-looking, natural athletes, or siblings of popular kids, they'll tend to become nerds. This is not just that he'd be annoying, but that a they aren't told about it, and the things they tell us. As in families, relations between founders and investors can be complicated. Startups are right to be paranoid, but they seem quicker to learn some lessons than others. We were supposed to read Hugo's Les Miserables. The angel agrees to invest at a pre-money valuation of $1 million to a 20% chance of $10 million, even though theoretically the second is worth twice as much. Writing doesn't just communicate ideas; it generates them. Fashions and flourishes get knocked aside by the difficult business of solving the problem at all.

They don't change the laws of physics. Throw away a perfectly good rotary telephone? Tip: avoid any field whose practitioners say this. In doing so you create wealth. Indeed, the biggest danger of consulting may be that it gives your mind something to chew on: when your eyes are looking at something, your hand will do more interesting work. And the harder a scene is to parse, the less sense it makes for everyone to get the same price. Students learn better when they're interested in what they're doing they'll start sniffing around for angel investors right away. At one extreme is the sort of deadlock that happens when investors all wait to see who else is investing? If they aren't an X, why do you need to write anything, though?

Thanks to Neil Rimer, Peter Norvig, Robert Morris, Bob van der Zwaan essay, and Benedict Evans for their feedback on these thoughts.

[zanytimetravelenthusiast-blog]

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New Story - Part 3

So I wrote a new chapter in this weird story line I have created.  I hope you enjoy.  It is a bit more graphic than I usually care to write about, but i promise that in the end, it’ll all turn out good.

**WARNING: Graphic gender transformation is included.  Be advised.**

She sat at her desk, compiling the numbers again of her failing business.  You would think that since everybody in the world loved nuts of all variety, business would be booming.  But ever since she took over for her father, Veruca has been dealing with things she was never accustomed to.

She grew up from her bratty ways, learning firsthand that no matter how much you want something, you have to earn it.  She was thankful for that lesson from the Wonka tour.  Sure, she was mad about what had happened.  But she learned real quickly.

In actuality, she was the most improved of the children, keeping tabs with Augustus, Violet, and Mike after the tour, apologizing for her obscene behavior and became good friends with each of them.

It must have been what keeps her going throughout the bad times.  Her ever-doting father dying shortly after passing the business to her.  Her mother left after the funeral, after hearing that she wasn’t getting anything in the will.  And the comfortable lifestyle she grew up in was taken away; her family forced into more common housing, thanks to a tip about unfair tax hikes in the company.

But Veruca kept the plant from shutting down, vowing to right the wrongs of old and bring forth a new wave of clients who loved her products.  Even when there was hardly anyone to sell to, she vowed to keep things going.

So crunching the numbers while burning the midnight oil, Veruca sat at her desk and tried to make her company a legacy for her family.

“Aren’t you sweet?” a voice sprang from the silence.  Veruca looked around the room in shock.  This building is on constant surveillance.  Who on Earth could be there?

“Trying to keep Daddy’s last boat afloat, while becoming the little princess of her own nut house.”

Veruca turned to see a very short little man, in a brown long sleeve shirt, white overalls, and a very orange complexion.

“Oh my! You’re one of those little men from Wonka’s, aren’t you?”

“Caught on, have you?  Name’s Justin.”

“Pleased to meet you, Justin.  My name is…”

“I know what you name is, Miss.  It’s hard to forget the face of one Ms. Veruca Salt.”

“Look, if this is about the tour and how poorly I behaved then, I am sincerely sorry.  I was a spoiled brat back then.  I apologize wholeheartedly for my behavior.”

“I know, Miss. I’ve been keeping an eye on you ever since that day.  Out of all the children from the tour, you are the most improved.”

“So why are you here?  Come to check on my and report to Wonka?  Or rather Charlie, since Wonka died, which I am sorry for your loss.  I know how much Mr. Wonka meant to you all.”

“I appreciate that, Veruca.  We will miss Mr. Wonka dearly.  But thanks to Charlie, Wonka’s sweets have never been better.”

“That’s great to hear.  And if he ever needs a supplier of nuts for his chocolate, I am more than willing to help him out.”

“I don’t know if he does.  You may have to ask him about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was sent here to have you come to the factory.  Mr. Bucket requests an audience.”

“Mr. Bucket? Why so formal all of a sudden, Justin?”

“I am only doing what I was asked, Miss.  Please come with me and we will be on our way.”

“I suppose I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“I’m afraid not, Miss.”

“Very well. Can I at least leave a note to my secretary?  She would be worried if I am not in my office in the morning.”

“Very well, Miss. But please, we must hurry.”

Veruca, grabbing a pen from her top drawer, scribbled a message for her secretary. Then, after grabbing her purse, she walked out of her office with the Oompa Loompa, placing the note on the secretary’s desk as she left.

 ***

Arriving ever so gently into the famed factory of Mr. Willy Wonka, Veruca and the Oompa Loompa Justin strolled through those halls of legend once again.  The halls were quite different than they were before. Before, you can see the brilliance that was Wonka’s imagination and creativity, now painted over with a bland tan. She was saddened by the fact that Charlie had stripped these halls of their innocent happiness.

“My word, what has Charlie done with the place?” Veruca asked disappointedly.

“What do you mean, Miss?”

“The walls. They used to be so full of color. Now they’re a bland color.”

“Ah, well, far be it from me to comment, but Charlie had a rough go of it when Wonka died. I suppose he painted over those walls to hide the painful memories that he had.”

“Yes, of course. But still…”

“I know, Miss. We miss the walls.  Having a bit of color brightens things up.”

Walking through the administrative wing, they saw hundreds of Oompa Loompas passing along memos and answering phones from customers and clients.

“Ah, Miss Salt, how wonderful to see you again,” a cheery Oompa Loompa said, standing from his desk.

“Forgive me, but I don’t remember you.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright.  I was one of Mr. Wonka’s personal assistants. I was there when you all visited the Inventing Room.”

“Ah, okay. I still don’t remember you, but I do remember that room.  Poor Violet.”

“Yes, poor Vi-“

“Killey!” Justin snapped as the Oompa Loompa spoke.  “Don’t you have some filing to do?”

“Yes…silly me. I nearly forgot.  It was nice to see you again.  Mr. Bucket is in his office.”

With that, Killey walked away in a hurry, almost afraid of what may happen to him.

“What was that about?” Veruca asked.

“Nothing, Miss. Charlie is a punctual being about certain things.  Oh, speaking of which…”

As soon as he ended his sentence, a tall lanky man came strolling towards the two.  Unlike everyone else, he was wearing a dark blue suit, with a bushy sandy blonde moustache to complete the messy blonde hair.

“Charlie?”

“Veruca. It’s wonderful to see you.”

“Yes, you too. My, you’ve grown up to be quite the handsome man.”  This threw Veruca through a bit of loop.  Why did she say that?  She was never flirty.

“Thank you, Veruca.  Please step into my office.”  Charlie led her into his humble office.  Before shutting the door, he mumbled a few things to the Oompa Loompa Justin.

“Sorry for that. Please, have a seat.”

Sitting in a chair across from Charlie, Veruca glanced around the office, seeing the different pictures and awards that he and Wonka had won together.

“My, quite the display you have there.”

“Thank you. Good memories of when our best times together.”

“Business seems to be pretty strong for you, I’d imagine.”

“Yes, we are having an excellent quarter.  By the way, may I offer you some tea?”

“Yes, that would be delightful.”

“Excellent. Pariston, can you bring in some tea for Ms. Salt and I, please?”

Veruca noticed the plumper Oompa Loompa named Pariston waddle away to fulfill the request given to him.

“Veruca, I heard about your business not doing so well.  Everything alright?”

“Oh yes. These things happen with the nut business.  Actually, if you ever need a supplier for your nutty treats, maybe we can work something out that would be beneficial to the both of us.”

As she said that, Pariston came in with a tea tray with two cups and a fine white china teapot sitting nicely on it.  Handing Veruca her cup, Pariston set the tray on Charlie’s desk and went back to his desk.

“Yes, I don’t see why we could do that.  I think it would be great.  But enough about that, I asked you here to talk to you about what happened in the tour those many years ago.”

Veruca gently sipped her tea and placed the cup on the saucer to respond.  “Ah, well, I think your assistant Justin said that he has been keeping an eye on me for a while.”

“Yes, I was pleased to hear that you learned the lesson well.  It makes what I have to ask you even more difficult.”

“What do you mean?”

“Justin, bring it in, please?”

Justin came through the door with a cloth covered tray and placed it on the desk next to Charlie. “Thank you, Justin.  You see, Veruca, I was so pleased to see what happened to you that I wanted to see what you would’ve been like if you hadn’t learned your lesson.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“Oh, don’t be shocked, my dear Veruca.  You see, Wonka had hoped that you would change, but he knew that you wouldn’t. Once a spoiled brat, always a spoiled brat.”

“Charlie, please, I am not the girl I was those years ago.”

“Oh, I know,” he said, grinning evilly.  “By the way, how’s your tea?”

Shocked, Veruca glanced down and looked at a weird green substance sitting at the bottom of her cup.  Before she could spit out whatever she ingested, she fell onto the carpet, unconscious thanks to the sedative.

 ***

 Having a vivid dream of what possible things that could be done to her, Veruca stirred from her lull.  Feeling groggy, she rubbed around her eyes and felt all over her head for any bumps. There was nothing, she thought. Thank goodness.  She looked down at her body to see that her clothes went unchanged, which was a sign that she wasn’t violated.

But Veruca remembered what had transpired before she passed out.  Charlie had drugged her.  Why on Earth?  I can’t remember what he said to me before I passed out.  Something about me being a brat?  No, I am not that girl anymore.

“Oh, yes, you are.”

She whipped her head around to see Justin sitting in a chair with a control panel right next to him.  Unsure of what was going on, she got up and started towards him.

“Justin, what on Earth are you do-,” she stopped hitting a clear wall.  Veruca put her hands on the wall and felt around.  She realized that she was in a glass box.

“What the? How did I get in here?  Lemme out!!!”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that.  But I have a message from Mr. Bucket.”  Justin pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it carefully, all while Veruca was freaking out about what was going on.  Justin cleared his throat and read aloud the written message.

“’My Dear Veruca, it was wonderful to see you again.  I had forgotten your lovely face.  Anyways, now I must do what I was told to do by Mr. Wonka.  You see, in his later years, he figured out a way to live on forever, but never had the time on this planet to enact it.  Luckily, he passed it down to me, and I will make it happen. But you don’t need to know the details.

‘What you need to know is what is going to happen with you.  You are inside an ingenious contraption of mine.  A glass box above the very egg-dicator that sent you down the garbage chute those many years ago.  You’ll be happy to hear that you won’t be falling to the garbage this time. Instead, we tweaked the scale to open when you reach a certain behavior.

‘Now I know you say you are not that bratty child from long ago, and I believe you.  But you see, I need that brattiness, that greed you had, that dominant essence you had over your father.  And you’re going to give it to me.

‘Now, direct your attention to the ventilation device hooked up at the top of your cage. This device is going to pump in a couple things.  First, it is going to pump in some miniature robots the boys in the lab made up. These robots are so microscopic, you will never know they are in there.  They will be inhaled into your system and go to your brain, where they will gradually change those blocks you have put up in your head, the ones that control your personality.

‘Another hose is going to pump in an appetite-stimulant nanobot that will change your eating habits.  And since this is Wonka’s, you will be fed some delicious treats via feeding tube every hour.  Trust me, you will want this food.

‘Lastly, a hose will pump in a nanobot that will help accommodate the changes happening to you. And you will love every change happening to you.

‘I wish I could be around to see the changes, but I have a company to run.  Oh, and thanks for selling me your father’s nut factory. You’ll be happy to know that I will transform it into a business that deserves the attention it needs.  Enjoy!

Veruca began to hyperventilate.  This can’t be happening.  She started thrashing on the glass, hoping to break it before the damage was done.

“I’m afraid, Ms. Salt, that you cannot escape.  That glass is the same material as Wonka’s Great Glass Elevator.  It is completely unbreakable.  Now I control the flow of nanobots entering in there, so if you want this to be done with as soon as possible, I would stop it.”

Veruca stopped thrashing, scared of what horrible things may happen.  Looking up at the vent above her, she shivering in what horrors were about to befall her.

“Now, Ms. Salt. I am going to begin with a small dose, just so your body can acclimatize to the changes coming your way.  A tube will be inserted into the box in an opening out of reach.  The tube will have the food you will need.  This will go on for about an hour.  I will be out here monitoring you in case of emergency.  Enjoy.”

With that, Justin had flipped on the ventilation fan above Veruca and turned the dial on his remote to a low setting.  In seconds, Veruca could feel something was being inhaled into her body.  She felt like bugs were crawling all over her inside and out.

And suddenly, she felt like something was different.

“Hey, can you bring me something to eat.  I am tad hungry.”

“The tube will lower in a minute.  Be patient, Ms. Salt.”

“But I’m hungry. Even a prisoner gets food.”

“In a minute, Ms. Salt.”

Veruca sat in a huff.  She was getting hungry.  Why wasn’t this man hurrying to get her food?  She scratched at her chest, as it began to get really itchy.

“Please, hurry with the food.  I’m hungry and I think I am having a bad reaction to these nano-whatevers.”

“Ms. Salt…”

“Enough of the ‘Ms. Salt’ business.  I am famished.  Please get me some food.”

“Veruca, the tube takes time to lower.  You have to wait.”

Agitated, Veruca stood up and banged on the glass.

“I want some food, dammit!  Get me some food, NOW!!!”

With a smile, Justin pressed a switch. The whirling of machinery loudly filled Veruca’s ears, causing her to look up.  Lowering down into her glass cage was a tube connected to the ceiling.  With eagerness to quell the starving hunger within her, she reached up to the tube and put it in her mouth.

Within seconds, a creamy substance started to flow down Veruca’s throat.  Remembering not to gag, she swallowed as fast as she could, careful not to spill any.  The cream flowed for what seemed like an eternity, filling Veruca more and more with each passing second.

When she had her fill, the machine stopped and started to rise out of her cage.  Feeling bloated, Veruca sat down as best as she could, rubbing her distended stomach.  The more she rubbed, the more pleasure she felt from the soothing touch and motion against her taut belly.

Little did she know that the nanobots within her were changing her physically.  Her breasts, losing their former perkiness, were now saggy and blubbery.  Her hips were no longer that of a woman’s, straightening to give her more of a manly appearance.  Her feminine facial features started to fade, becoming more pronounced, more Neanderthal in appearance, with wisps of a beard and moustache to compliment her growing unibrow.

She sat for hours rubbing her stomach, getting more and more aroused by the feeling. But she didn’t feel like it was enough, like there was something else needed to be done.  She rose to her feet and pounded on the glass.

“Justin, I want you to fuck me.”

“Veruca, I can’t. There is no way I am letting you out of that box.”

“But I need to be fucked now.  Give me something to get off.”

Justin saw the desperation in her eyes and walked over to the box.  “I am going to give you something.  Show me how well you can use it.”  With that, he tossed the object into Veruca’s cage.

It was a big dildo of a man’s penis, a big one at that.  She never had to take so much before, not even from her boyfriends. But she wanted to be fucked.  She took the dildo and placed on the ground. Removing her panties, she lowered herself onto the phallic tool.  

Once she felt like she could take enough, Veruca started to gyrate, letting the dildo go in and out of her.  As she was fucking, she started to grab her chest, which had become hairier and less perky. Feeling her breast and saggy stomach flop as she gyrated, she found herself getting more aroused than she thought possible.

She reached down to teasing her clit, she soon discovered that her once tight vagina was now a little nub of a penis, leaking precum as she pleasured herself.  Veruca, unbeknownst to her, was becoming a man, her testicles growing by the centimeter as she brought herself closer to climax.

But something was off.  She felt hungry again.  Justin, now rubbing the crotch of his pants, flipped the feeding switch and lowered her feeding tube.  Placing the tube and still gyrating, she began to swallow the cream once more.

Feeling the substance fill her once again, she reached down to play with her new cock, which had now grown four inches.  Massaging and rubbing her dick, she felt a new wave of pleasure.  

Veruca was in a whole new world, no longer remembering her former life.  Veruca was now Vic, a sex crazed pig who needed to be fattened before his master could allow him to be relieved.  His ass was permanently loose, craving the biggest dick ever, while his tiny cock, now buried underneath his pubic fat, leaked precum from all the excitement.

Vic was close to shooting his load, as his stomach grew bigger and bigger with each ounce of cream went into him.  His hips and ass were wide and jiggly, bouncing more and more as he pleasured himself on the dildo.

Justin looking on in eagerness, now jerking off to the display before him.  He wanted to fuck that greedy fat pig and wanted him to be his forever.  Shooting his own load multiple times, rubbed his tiny dick on the glass, teasing the now sex-crazed fat ass before him.  Seeing this, Vic shot his own load while allowing the cream to make him bigger and bigger.

 ***

Hours passed since Charlie watched Veruca’s metamorphosis.  Vic was now the greedy pig that he wanted, perfect for the next stage in his plan. Walking over to the phone on his desk, he dialed a number quickly and waited for a response.

“Donnie, it’s time to bring Mr. Teevee in.”

[ashnadir]

bumblingbrujo:

“Yeah, makes sense,” he agreed. SBS was such an odd town. He wondered if there were magical tinder politics like there were grindr politics. Maybe he would look into it. Just out of curiosity. 

“Well I didn’t feel anything like that when I touched her but maybe that’s part of her magic.” He smiled a little. He didn’t think she had both. Witch catnip and blood magic was just unfair. She could take over the world like that, but then again that was part of her charm. “I think I’m just lusty for power, you know, got it from my mama, and blood magic is in the dictionary under power.” He was vaguely aware of Sheriff Pettaline in a round-about-way, but he wasn’t sure if he had ever met the man. 

Miguel sighed. “Well, I want to tell you. Soon.” He wasn’t talking about the demon (but Iann didn’t know what he was talking about). He cared very little for it, in the way that someone would care very little for a mosquito. Yes, it was annoying, but he trusted Ciara to take care of it. 

“Ah! I need human blood for a spell, can I have some of yours?” The idea came to him suddenly. Iann, who was enamored with magic, would probably give Miguel his own blood. As long as it wasn’t involved in medicine or paperwork. “I’ll owe you a favor,” he said with a smirk. “Or it can be payment for lifting the curse from that painting, I don’t think I got anything for that, other than your sweet love and attention and a nap on your couch.” It was getting hard to keep track of who owed what, but Miguel was the kind of person who would trade food, money, and favors freely with friends and trust fate to make things even in the end. “Unrelated to demon things,” he said because he didn’t want Iann to be nervous about it. “Just talking about Ciara made me think of blood magic and then… you know.” 

Miguel piled a bit of everything into his bowl and ate slowly. It was so dang good. He switched what he took a bite of every time, so that he got different flavors. “Good, good,” he said. “I came in here the first day and I was a little worried because there weren’t many people in. But it’s getting pretty busy.” He looked around and smiled. It seemed like Lea would have her hands full, so he didn’t want to try and bother her while she was working. Maybe he could say hi quick before he and Iann left. 

“Yeah I was taking my nurse, Brody, out for dinner. He deserves a break, he works way too hard.” Miguel smiled vaguely. Good nurses made the world go round. “Funny thing, I actually won him at pride too. He’s a good kid. And by kid I mean 20 something year old.” He shook his head. Why did he feel so old all the time? “But something happened with a patient at the hospital and he had to stay late.” 

“Are you really?” Iann asked, peering at Miguel.  The witch was saying it lightly, but Iann was adept at reading between the lines.  Someone who so casually claimed to be lusty for power; in Iann’s experience, the acquisition of power was hardly through exclusively honourable (moral, beneficial, altruistic, sustainable, however you wanted to word it) means.  

Not that Iann was any sort of police about it.  He lived in their world, after all.  With their rules.  He knew thieves and murderers and torturers - a business partner, a pseudo-daughter, a close friend.  Laws in human-world were not laws in supernatural world, never mind laws for each species. Each sub-species, each council, each coven.  Each individual.  So Iann mostly just remained neutral and let magical people do their thing, terrible or otherwise.

What else could he do?  They had the power, and he did not.

He sucked at his teeth at Miguel’s question, then returned to eating in quick, hungry bites.  “Mm, if you need human blood for something I can get you some, sure,” Iann replied.  “Do you need it from a certain age group or gender or anything?  I have a supplier.”

Unfortunately, for Miguel.

He nodded amiably after hearing about this nurse friend of Miguel’s.  “So do you do like human hospitals do?  Everyone dates everyone else?  I remember when my Ma was in palliative and man the gossip that went around between the nurses and doctors and...whatever other medical staff.  It was like one of those TV shows, you know.  Like ER.”  Because Iann didn’t know any recent medical dramas.

missed connection

[kffandom]

so @theglowqueen and i literally went on for hours the other day continuing this post where i talked about gabe w/pokemon, so i’m going to try to do a graceful summary for each topic we covered and she can call me out if i forgot anything

the first text had to be in its entirety because it’s #perfect and what started everything but I’m just going to summarize the rest and quote sparingly. kara’s quotes, after the first one, are in italics and mine are in bold~ 

text that started it all, from kara: 

“Yo you know your headcanon about Gabe’s Mimikyu? Like what if when everything goes to shit, he loses her. Like Ms. Beak knows to get out of dodge until things settle, but Sweetie wouldn’t let go. So then later on as Reaper, he senses a shadowy thing that originally [he was] wary of, but then he’s just like, “Sweetie?” and it is and she’s so excited that her boy recognized her even though she won’t let him see her. She knows the rumors that people die when they see a true Mimikkyu form, and she’s not taking that chance. 

So he tears up his cloak. Sewed it into a costume like the Pikachu one she used to haev. Except now it’s black. And instead of doing a pikachu face he uses some white favri to sew the likeness of his own mask instead. 

He gives it to her, and he has his Sweetie back. He feels bad that he doesn’t have anything [to] let her hold, but she’s okay with it. 

Rumors begin about the tiny ‘Reaper’ that signals the arrival of a very real one. 

I kind of want her to pick up one of his guns as her carry item, but at the same time all I can think of is ‘This is my Mimikkyu OC Mimigun. She’s a Mimikkyu, but with a gun.” 

Sweetie, post-swiss HQ: 

--Afterward, gabe is uber, uber protective of Sweetie and I argued that he’d flip on even widowmaker if they talked shit on his raggedy lil girl, and kara went on to say that “The reason people die after seeing the Raggedy Reaper is because they laugh at her and Reaper is just like Y’all dune fucked up my guys”, like they don’t take him seriously at first with this itty-bitty Raggedy Reaper following it around--until someone hears him call her Sweetie, and they say, “I thought ‘Raggedy Reaper’ was bad” and he doesn’t get much farther than that before they all start taking the mercenary seriously. 

--Sweetie wants a gun so she can fit gabe’s new #aesthetic even more, but gabe’s like “no that’s okay” until she is sad she’s ruining his #aesthetic, so he goes to his gun supplier and is like “Hey, you know mimikkyu? Could you make one of my guns, but so she can’t hurt herself? I keep telling her no, but you know how they are.” Cue confused but willing supplier. 

--heard on the field: “That pokemon has a gun!” “Relax, she’s not gonna hurt anyone with it.” noticeably absent: explanation that the gun is incapable of firing.... ever 

Ms. Beak, post-swiss HQ: 

--Ms. Beak is more of a reconnaissance agent than a fighter, because she’s a really common pokemon and therefore blends in real easily. we argued that she’d be trained to retreat whenever a situation went FUBAR, so that’s why she wasn’t in the explosion at all 

--She was a giant, mournful pest in the aftermath until Gabe found her and she “disappeared” while overwatch fell apart. 

--sadly, she’s also the reason they figure out gabe’s identity so quickly. cloaked man + custom Mimikkyu? not easy to identify. a giant pidgeot, combat-ish-trained and with familiar markings? much, much easier. Ana, in their first confrontation where Ms. Beak is there, is like, “waaaaait a minute” 

--”Throws the whole mission on its head because she’s pulled out snacks for the enemy’s Pidgeot. 

*deep voice from a distance* 

‘Ms. Beak, no!’ 

‘I know it’s you Gabriel!’ 

‘shit’”  

Post-discovering Gabe’s identity: 

--in the past, gabe’s pokemon have always loved ana. she has the best snacks! ( “Ana has best pokebeans?? how turn down Gabe. How.”) and she’s so nice! good pets, good compliments--she even compliments Sweetie on her new outfit that gabe made for her, so that’s like. mucho bonus points. gabe’s a little annoyed that they go running to her right away, a little wary, but ana wouldn’t use them against him-- “she may have done some sketch stuff in her day, but she finds it wrong to use a pokemon’s trust like that” 

--Jesse, too, was the weird kid that gabe liked, so they’re cool with him too. “Sweetie goes running up to him because she’s like, “Gotta show Jesse my gun. He likes guns” and Gabe is like yeah go for it. It’s a terrifying 5 minutes for Jesse before he recognizes Sweetie”. he shows her his own gun in response and she’s v v excited, and gabe’s relieved because that’s still his boy, underneath the gruffness and exhaustion 

^^after that, jesse sort of ‘debriefs’ with ana like, “What was that?? is gabe back what’s going on” and she basically goes, “you’ve never seen that pidgeot or mimikyu in your life. understood?” so it’s like their lil secret 

--Sweetie does /not/ like 76. at all. rumor has it that he thinks mimikkyu’s aren’t impressive and they’re just knock off pikachus and she doesn’t forget that sort of nonsense. would gouge out his eyes given the chance, and since those are normally covered, she tends to go for the throat when they have missions against him 

Ana + reaper + his pokemon: 

--She won’t use his pokemon against him, but she thinks that they’re a tool to use to get gabe back. part of her wants gabe, her best friend back, and that’s a good portion of her motivation. but the other, agent-side of her recognizes that overwatch would do more than survive if they could get commander reyes back. 

--so that’s part of the reason she keeps extra poke-snacks in her kit, from then on, and she’s the one who starts using Ms. Beak to get messages to gabe--sends over his favorite type of tea, one time, and it’s a sentimental move that does move gabe

--”’If we’re good to Miss Beak, he’ll remember that when talon does something awful’ --Ana”  her hoping that they can sway gabe back to their side, but understanding it’s contingent on circumstances rather than any type of emotional moves. but stacking the emotional deck in their favor? not a bad idea, in her opinion

--it’s a very calculated approach

--these interactions are easier for ana, almost, because she has that calculating side, though it hurts when sweetie comes bounding across the field with a flask of her favorite kind of rum and she’s reminded of them as stupid kids--Ana, gabe, and jack, who thought they were the world. 

-- (”She doesn’t miss commander reyes, she truly misses gabe,”) 

Jesse + reaper + reaper’s pokemon: 

--jesse sends sweetie over with a note and gabe’s blackwatch beanie after ana starts sending messages. it’s hard for gabe, because it makes him want to start caring about them again and he knows that can only end badly. at the same time, it makes his pokemon happy to see the two, soe he doesn’t want to stop them from visiting 

--gabe sends ms. beak over to jesse’s in return and has her trash his liquor cabinet while depositing a (Really nasty, actually) note that basically says, “stop drinking you’ll get sloppy and lazy here’s a help hotline get help u fuckin loser” . and while it’s p nasty jesse’s like, “he still cares!!” 

--which is really rough for jesse, because like. one minute they’re talking through his pokemon, and the next gabe’s completely ignoring him on the battlefield. not even looking his way, brushing him off, dismissing him.

--every response gabe gives him gives him hope, but every time he’s ignored crushes him all over again. 

--(Gabe doesn’t want to fight him, is the problem. doesn’t want to hurt the man he loved as a son, and he definitely doesn’t want overwatch to know they’re in contact. in old overwatch, it’d be a death sentence to talk to the enemy without attempting to bring them in. he has no reason to believe that new overwatch is any different, is the thing. they’ll hurt him, he thinks, a little manically, and so he ignores jesse) 

--(He thinks that new overwatch might even be worse, because they have so many enemies and won’t stand for any leaks. it’d be a firing squad. he has no idea that they don’t have any “warhawks” outside of ana and jack, that it’s a small organization that can’t afford to lose anyone, really--he just knows what old overwatch was like. so he deliberately acts obtuse and ignores and ignores, despite the hurt he can almost feel radiating off of jesse) 

--jesse is not having a #GoodTime, basically 

jesse + dealing w/hurt from reaper’s ignoring of him + bastion: 

--”It gets bad enough that even though he and Ana decided to act like nothing was happening, Jesse wanted so bad to talk to someone about it. He knows that Ana obviously would be the best choice since she’s already in on it, but she’s so detached. He knows that they were good friends, but he also isn’t stupid enough to not see what she’s really doing. 

He wants to tell Genji. They were all Blackwatch together, but Genji has moved on with his life. He’s found peace, and Jesse doesn’t want to fuck that up. He wants to tell Angela. He knows how close she and Gabe were. It was like she and Jesse were siblings for fuck sake. But she’s also Jack’s girl. Gabe was not her only support. And judging by the way Sweetie reacts to Jack, he’s not sure how she’d react to Angie.

Somehow, he ends up with Bastion. Bastion, who for some reason has Miss Beak sitting on her head.” 

--jesse takes miss beak’s presence as a sign and info-dumps the fuck onto bastion, and bastion doesn’t really mind--she likes when they treat her like an equal/person, so while her communication methods are limited, she’s a good listener and she can be sympathetic and give him a pointy but nice hug when he gets upset. so jesse talks about gabe, about how it’s unfair because he’s always been gabe’s man, always been his right hand. and if gabe had gotten to him before the recall--well, he doesn’t know. bastion doesn’t fault him for admitting that

--bastion attempts to get across that jesse has much more support now with new-overwatch, that angela and genji love him, the younger agents think he’s great and look up to him, and winston in particular is so relieved that jesse is on their side with how skilled he is. unfortunately, her vocabulary isn’t the best with english even when she tries to type a message for him 

--Ms. Beak croons and grooms his hair through it, and when jesse starts to feel better and thanks both of the ladies kindly for being ears for awhile, she leaves and pecks the shit out of gabe when she gets back. she’s pissed for daaaaaaaays, will leave him deliberately on the field to go groom jesse, and gabe gets the hint 

--but. well. he doesn’t really change anything because what can he do? 

jesse + reaper + snail mail snapchat:  

--after this, gabe sends a letter to jesse asking about bastion and whether Ms Beak is safe with her or not. he gets a picture back of bastion covered in all kinds of bird pokemon. he also gets another one of jesse flipping him off, “but he doesn’t take it too harshly”  

--it takes like 3 back and forths before gabe sends a selfie (Ms. Beak covers most of him, but it’s more skin than anyone’s seen since he ‘returned’) and jesse has an “oh” moment. because he didn’t just go off after swiss hq. He was actually really fucked up. he's a little forgiving of his initial hurt b/c part of him was assuming gabe was hiding and pretending to be dead like Ana was, for weird ambiguous justice-moral reasons Jesse still doesn't really get, but gabe didn’t. the pic soothes the old hurt of "gabe?? You're still alive??" “Because something that [rough] would need recovery and if deadpool has taught us anything, it's hard to face loved ones after being remade” 

-- “Like seeing how Gabe was actually /fucked up/ really helps. Gabe didn't choose to leave him. His mom died, the gang left him, Genji left, and with the return of Reaper, he had been convinced that Gabe had left him too. But he gets it. He remembers having such a hard time facing everyone after he lost his arm. Gabe lost most everything. So it doesn't hurt as bad.” 

-- “Exactly yes that. Gabe didn't leave willingly, so he's more in the category that his mom is in I'd imagine. So he's able to think of him fondly and still love him without that justified betrayed-feeling that he's still working out w/genji and the other overwatch members that just. Left when everything went downhill” 

happier note: snail mail snapchat onto real snapchat! : 

-- “Jesse sends him a picture of Angela and Genji. Gabe sends him back a picture every time he makes Sweetie a new outfit. Jesse manages to send him a picture of Widowmaker who had fallen asleep in her hiding spot, propped up against her rifle. Gabe sends back a picture of Miss Beak dive bombing Jack. Jesse sends him a picture of him flipping off his fucked up liquor cabinet. Gabe sends him back a picture of himself flipping him off” 

--after ms. beak gets ticked and exhausted at being used like a post owl from harry potter, “Sweetie comes skipping over with the next message to Jesse's surprise and it's just a phone number. He saves it in his phone as Dad. They never message each other, but their Snapstreak is 50 days long. (Lena goes through his phone once and now thinks Jesse has a weird daddy thing going on but is too nervous to actually put it in his phone like that. So she changes it for him)”  

jesse + his pokemon: 

--jesse has 3 pokemon: a cubone named Kit, a growlithe named Cassidy, and an ampharos named Fluffy Spark. 

--jesse found kit shortly before he joined the deadlock gang ( Kit’s backstory, up to this point, was basically >> Kit: *falls into a trainer's carry-on luggage* *sneaks off the plane* *wanders into a car because she smelled food* *ate a pizza man's delivery and was chased out* *ended up on a train, like a nice one with a food cart and was assumed to be one of the passenger's ones* *somehow ends up near jesse* ) on the side of the road trying to eat a rock. she’s his bb. she’s also an alolan one, which he doesn’t know, so when she evolves boy howdy is that a hot adventure i’ll go over below 

--he gets cassidy when he joins the gang, and everyone wants him to evolve her right away (big, intimidating arcanine? much more useful for their needs than a smol pupper) but he keeps “losing” the fire stone they got him. he knows that cassidy isn’t ready and she doesn’t want to evolve yet, so he gets into some trouble and gets a reputation for being forgetful/for misplacing shit, but it’s all good. even at blackwatch, she doesn’t want to evolve, and gabe’s like “k whatever but i have extra fire stones if you need them” because he’s collected a lot over the years but never had to use any since none of his pokemon need them 

--Fluffy Spark was originally just Fluffy, and cassidy basically herded him into jesse’s arms right after they went to blackwatch and they’ve had him ever since.  (Gabe’s like “the fuck kid” and jesse’s like, “cassidy won’t let me put him back!” then when fluffy evolved, jesse was sorta like “Well, you’re not fluffy anymore, so. spark!” but fluffy won’t respond, so he tries to be sneaky and call him fluffy spark and transition to just spark, but. didn’t happen. 

cassidy + fluffy spark : 

--basically your typical teasing-sibling relationship. will destroy each other but only they are allowed to do so, anyone else will be destroyed MORE 

-- “People talk to Jesse like "Your Growlithe and Ampharos don't seem to like each other at all. Are you sure you should keep them together like that." Jesse looks over to see Fluffy Spark bopping Cassidy on the head and she nips at the ball on his tail. "Nah, they love each other!"”  

--cassidy doesn’t want to evolve yet (”Cassidy is best pupper?? 1 out of 1 pupper agree. Best pupper is me. Don't listen to Fluffy Spark. He is full of lies.” ) and fluffy spark’s like “okay cool but you won’t be bigger than me until you do. so.” and thwacks her in the head and nibbles because he can and cassidy gets all riled up 

-- “They're actually siblings. Cassidy steals Fluffy Spark's favorite pokebeans all the time and Fluffy Spark takes the treasured spot on Jesse's bed at night just so Cassidy can't “ 

--Ms Beak is the only one who really stops them when they get riled up together and are at each other’s throats. she likes to pretend she’s an old woman and make gabe carry her around, but jesse’s pokemon are to her what jesse is to gabe. 

-- Sweetie is a little intimidated by Fluffy Spark, just because he has Much Personality and Sweetie is shy, but overall they get along and Sweetie can roughhouse a little rougher with Fluffy Spark than she can with anyone else. And Cassidy likes to give Sweetie piggy back rides because she's one of the only Pokémon on base smaller than her

Kit: 

--so jesse has no idea that kit’s an alolan cubone. looks like a cubone, acts like a cubone, is a cubone! so when she starts to evolve, he’s like “oh cool” and then very quickly is like “WHY IS SHE ON FIRE” 

--we didn’t have a concrete timeline for when she would evolve, but if it was during blackwatch-era it’d go like this: jesse bursting into gabe’s office/room/whatever with a weird-looking marowak yelling, “IS THIS SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN”  while kit’s just cuddling into his chest and basically being like “you’re so weird, human, it nap time because evolving is hard work.” (if it was post-recall, it’d be the same but it’d be a snapchat video instead of in-person, and gabe would respond a few hours later with a picture of a map of alola, acting like he knew right off the bat [he didn’t, he had to look it up and do some digging b/c no one really goes to alola or knows much about it]) 

--gabe’s hella confused how jesse got an alolan cubone (”did you get her on the black market or something?” “no? i found her on the side of the road?? trying to eat a rock??” "why was she trying to eat a rock" "I don't know! She was a baby! I think. Regardless, she was hungry. Oh no. Do you think she'll want to eat fire things now? What do you eat now baby??" Kit, true to form, just nibbles on Jesse's pants pocket where she knows he keeps snacks, but he's a little too freaked out to get the obvious message. "She's eating my pants Gabe!" "Is there something in your pocket?" "Some Pokebeans but I don't know what that has to do with- oh.")  

--in conclusion: Kit: happily nomming on pokebeans Jesse: still freaking out, would like to know what happened to his ground type Pokémon Gabe: long suffering, a tired dad

--Miss Beak thinks Kit's kinda weird and sometimes has to peck her hand so she doesn't eat things that aren't to be eaten, but at least she doesn't cause much trouble and lets Miss Beak sleep when she wants to. 

--Sweetie and Kit are closer, because Sweetie never really acts like the age she is, like she's not that much younger than Miss Beak but she's more in the maturity range of Kit. They like to hold hands (or in Kit's case, hold one of Sweetie's tendrils that act as hands) and they chatter to each other, are much more "talkative" than the other Pokémon.

so yeah! the end. may do more with this some day because this is a lot of world-building to not continue imho, but we’ll see. huge thanks to the best roommate ever for spending nearly 10 hours hashing this out and being as enthusiastic as i am about a kinda out-there crossover <3 <3 <3 kara, u r my fave and i miss u already and you are the #best for starting this rollercoaster i took a week to actually write up and get on here 

[novacabtaxi]

Nottinghamshire business based in historic brewery cannot access government grant due to ‘annoying’ criteria – Nottinghamshire Live

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A recently established business in a historic Mansfield brewery has said it could be forced to close after finding out it cannot receive financial help from the government because of how it pays its business rates.

Prior’s Well Brewery, in Chadburn House, on Weighbridge Road brought brewing back to life at the Mansfield Brewery site last year in May along with installing a bar and cafe.

Just as the owner began to have a “good feeling” about the business, the coronavirus lockdown has had a massive impact on their trade, payments to suppliers, and keeping up with their business rates which amount to around £12,000 a year.

Any hopes at the brewery of receiving financial relief in the form of a grant for retail, hospitality and leisure businesses were soon dashed when it was made clear that they were not eligible for the funding because they do not directly pay their business rates.

Instead, the brewery and a total of 27 other businesses based in Chadburn House’s two adjoining buildings, pay their business rates through their landlord – Concept 360 – which has a total rateable value that is above the required threshold.

The chief executive at Concept 360 described the situation as a “nightmare” and “a bit unfair” to the company’s tenants who are forced to miss out on help.

Mansfield District Council, who received guidelines on the grant form the Government, has said it is “concerned” with how some commercial tenants are not able to access financial support.

Phl Scotney, owner of Prior’s Well Brewery, said: “Through no fault of our own we are now ineligible for the grant when we thought we were in line for it.

“If we don’t get it, it will close us down. I don’t think the reasons why we aren’t eligible aren’t good enough to be honest. It’s a bit annoying to hear.

“We thought we would be looked after during this difficult time but that’s not happened. I tried three times to get my own business rates here for the brewery but Mansfield District Council said they couldn’t do anything.

“It’s not because of the type of business we are or anything, we’re only not eligible because of how we pay our rents. I can’t see a way out of this.”

Prior’s Well Brewery operated solely as a brewery for four years before expanding into hospitality last year.

Phil, who is 60 and from Mansfield, added: “We were ordered to close in the lockdown which I completely understand but we did that with the belief there would be some sort of help. We’ve already had to furlough some staff and there’s close to 18 jobs at risk here.

“We just got to a place where there was a good feeling about the business, and then three weeks later everything stopped. I’m really concerned at the moment.”

Katie Cooper-Lewis, 29, is chief executive at Concept 360 and said: “It’s a bit of a nightmare. With regard to Prior’s Well Brewery, we thought they were entitled to the grant for hospitality, retail and leisure grant which is up to £25,000.

“These grants can only be applied for by the rate payer to the local authority.

“However I own two buildings next to each other which are joined but have historically had different purposes. Under our previous business – The Making It! Discovery centre – we had two different identities in the building.

“Mansfield District Council have compiled the two together and that brings my business over the threshold limit for the grant – which is a rateable value of between £15,000 and £51,000.

“It’s a bit unfair, all of my tenants in that building are missing out on the grant because of the criteria where the rate payer must apply.

“I can appreciate it’s a difficult situation we are all in and the two people at the council I have spoken to have been really helpful. It’s only criteria they have been given from the government.”

Stephen Scotney, 63, runs the Prior’s Well Brewery’s finances and is Phil’s older brother.

He said: “I bet there are thousands of other businesses in the same situation.

“Just before the lockdown, we had our busiest event ever and we had lots of similar events lined up through the year that are all on hold now.”

Dawn Edwards, Head of Finance at Mansfield District Council, said: “While the council has responsibility for implementing some of the government’s support measures to help businesses through this difficult time, we can only follow the guidelines given to us about who qualifies for the grants and financial assistance.

“We are concerned about the position of commercial property landlords and their tenants in accessing this support and are doing everything we can to support them including raising this issue with the government. It is a difficult situation and we sincerely hope a solution can be found.”

The Ministry of Housing, Communities and Local Government – who have set out the criteria on how businesses can apply for grants in the wake of the coronavirus outbreak – have been approached for comment.

from TAXI NEAR ME https://taxi.nearme.host/nottinghamshire-business-based-in-historic-brewery-cannot-access-government-grant-due-to-annoying-criteria-nottinghamshire-live/

[heartfeltheart]

Alchemy: Tiny Steps

Chapters: 18/45 Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist/Harry Potter Rating: T Relationships: Edward/Winry, Lan Fan/Ling, and May/Alphonse. Primary Characters: Edward Elric, Severus Snape Additional Tags: Crossover, Teacher!Edward, BrOtp Edward/Severus. Sassy beyond measure. Pro!Snape Series: Part 2 of 9. Summary: Part two of the Alchemy Series.  Politics. Either you love it, hate it or you live it. For Alchemy Teacher Edward Elric, he lives it, hates it and loves it when he gets the upper hand. Here is to another year of hell… D/C: I do not own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. Discord: La Red(Mesh Mash of… stuff.): https://discord.gg/KYjmVAb Alchemy Series: https://discord.gg/DejEYNJ

  Alchemy Placement Exam

9/2/1990

Created By: Edward Elric

The following exam will determine if you are still capable of continuing my class. This maybe a placement exam, it will still have a say whether you will continue studying Alchemy or stop completely for one year, (Or forever, depends on your answers).

Good luck with this exam here's to hoping you improved from our last class meeting!

(Remember, do not speed through with haste. Take a deep breath and think everything through deeply. Reread the questions to ensure you understand what is needed to be done.)

                                                            …

Part I :

Critical Thinking…

Part II :

Write the following compound formula…

Part III :

Name the following Alchemic symbols…

Part IV :

Create the following Transmutation Circles…

Part V :

Write the following Laws…

Part VI :

Answer in your own words the following…

Equivalent Exchange:

Rebound:

Comprehension:

Deconstruction:

Reconstruction:

Part VII :

Decode the following…

Part VIII :

All is one, one is all.

Good luck.

Edward sat behind his desk, leaning into his chair with both legs propped on top of his desk while reading the Daily Prophet. Today's main story, Minister Amelia Bones is having old cases reviewed again. It apparently was heavily noted there was past corruption and there is a need to ensure everyone was prosecuted to the law at the fullest. The current article he is reading was about how the Minister is making dealings with Major General Armstrong and General Mustang.

Good.

The sound of papers rustling made Edward to fold his paper over to see the twelve remaining students from last year taking his placement exam.

Four Slytherin.

Terrance Higgs

Edmond Mortin

Timothy Jerkins

Wynne Rabnott

Three Ravenclaws.

Rachel McWilliams

Elfrida Hopkirk

Nathaniel Praxley

Three Hufflepuff.

Kasey State

Yaxley Prang

Emmeline Evan

Two Griffindor.

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

People (Mainly students from Griffindor) gripped about his unfair how there were more Slytherins than any other house. Others (Ravenclaw this time) went on with how Alchemy made no sense, or the exam was rigged somehow to make many fail. Something along those lines. Meh. Meh he says! Everyone that passed were rightfully given a spot in his class and if they chose to leave then it's their own damn fault. Truth knows he's been trying to get Terrance to leave his class. That kid is stubborn, that's for sure.

Don't get him wrong, Terrance is an excellent student. Not your typical Slytherin, is not bothered with blood purity or house rivalry. The only thing Edward had doubt about the young man is that… his head is primarily focused on Quidditch. The kid is a complete natural and from what Severus had told him, he caught the eye of current agents of several professional Quidditch teams. However, Terrance has to keep up with his work in order to keep everything on track. For Edward, have the kid drop Alchemy to focus on a path he knows will suit him for later in life.

No. Nope. Nada. That is not the case of Terrance Higgs. He made it a point that Alchemy will be his primary elective and will take on whatever the Alchemy Teacher throw at him. Edward respects that and couldn't help but snort. Stubborn. Terrence is going to need that to move forward to keep up with his school work and extracurricular activity.

Few other students that remained had dropped out of Quidditch or other electives to primarily focus on Alchemy. Amendable, but unnecessary. They just need to take a step back and look at the big picture. They have to ensure they don't lose themselves in the work or grow insane… Insanity is common in Alchemist… That and many other things…

Perhaps Edward should do something for those that needed to take a step back from Alchemy for a short time…

"Mr. Elric?"

Edward only blinked once as he turned his focus on Terrence, who now stood in front of his desk. "Finished?"

"Yes sir…" Terrance handed his test to the Alchemy Teacher, who took it with an eyebrow raised. He couldn't help but hold back a gulp of apprehension. Mr. Elric had previously tried to get him out of the class to focus his time in Quidditch. However, no matter how much he tried, the young Slytherin wasn't having it. He was going to stick through it and… well… insert explicit phrase here.

"You improved. Good work."

"Thank you, sir."

-.-

Alphonse sat rigidly in his seat, not touching the cup of tea that was served for him. He sat in the Headmaster's office having a meeting with the Head of Houses along with the Headmaster. The purpose of the meeting had to do with Alphonse purpose being at the school. Having to gather up information to see what could be implemented to Xing's school.

The only problem is that….

The Headmaster is making appear it should be an exact replica of Hogwarts. That would be a huge no for Alphonse. What he and Ling had in mind, having a second Hogwarts will not be a good idea. Divided houses. Prejudice towards blood and houses. Blatant favoritism to the point it is known to everyone around. Let's move forward with life and not create enemies that will last a lifetime.

Professor Sprout is going on about the possible ways the school could implement a Herbology Department. That is a good idea, with the fact Xing primarily focuses on the Healing Arts and already have a good array of necessary medicine herbs for their practices. Plus, Ling made it a point he wanted a Herbalogist and the Professor is already referring him many of her past pupils as possible candidates.

Professor McGonagall is talking about discipline, Transfiguration, and enrollment. Discipline will be dealt with the laws of the land and have to translate them into the school. Transfiguration will have to be taught, but the issue is that the complication of it crossing Alchemy and Ishvalan beliefs. Even so, it is needed and how to be implemented will be yet to be seen. Enrollment. This will be the main topic that will be a huge sore point for the elders and the entire country of Xing. Many approve for just the high class or only the fifty clans. Main issue would be the rest of Xing that do not belong in a clan who have developed magical abilities. That is an issue Alphonse, Ling, and many other's have to look deeply into.

Alphonse and Severus had spoken during the summer and had come to an agreement that the Potion's Professor will be sending over a former student that will stand in as the Potioneer Ling requested. Along with giving him contact to his suppliers and materials to start off teaching potions. Including with a past student that rank rather high in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Alphonse will have to talk to Ling in terms of the Dark arts but in all, he believes it would be a good idea. Still, better to check up with the guy in charge.

"We have one of our professors to personal hand deliver a letter to a first year with a muggle background…"

"Normally we send out letters via owl."

'Owl's aren't going to cut it…' Alphonse kept his gaze at his reflection in his tea. 'They won't stand the climate and constant sand storms. Hawks? Hm…'

-.-

Cedric Diggory stared at an announcement of an Alchemy Entrance Exam that will take place the throughout the entire week at different hours. The first exam will be given to the first years, after that will be divided by others never took the exam and the rest will be placed randomly depending on one's schedule. There was something about students that quit the class that wish to retake the class will have to take to Mr. Elric but that did not include him. Throughout the entire summer, he had been studying what he believes to help him with the exam.

Hopefully that will help him. Cedric had wanted to take the class last year but was intimidated by the entrance exam and the teacher in general. Mainly the teacher. Mr. Elric is intimidating. Very intimidating. Still, from his housemates that are taking the class tell him about random stories and what they are learning. This only motivated the Hufflepuff to study to perhaps take the exam with his head up.

"Food… Food…. Food…"

Cedric paused mid-thought to turn around to see Mr. Elric grumbling as he walked by him towards the kitchen. He swore the Alchemy Teacher looked like he is undead and completely dead to the world around him.

"I hate all nighters…"

Cedric slowly began to back away from the Alchemy Teacher before going into a full run. Perhaps he should rethink about thinking the Alchemy Exam.

Said teacher didn't pay much notice of what just happened as he gained access to the kitchen. A smile appeared on his face as the House Elves cheered at his appearance and began to bring out random treats for him. "Pie…"

-.-

"Here's to hoping we get in again." Fred paced around the Gryffindor Common Room, while his brother sat on the couch that was place in front of the fireplace.

"Stop worrying. Mr. Elric told use we are a shoe in, he just wanted to know where to place us. This is just a formality." George waved off his brother's concern.

"You know how he is. If he finds one thing, then it's over!"

"I know. Stop panicking, remember what else he said? We are to talk to him and see where we went wrong in general. If it has to do with us intellectually, then we study our way in again. The only way we are going to be kicked out if we…you know."

Fred stopped pacing to stare at the fire nervously. "I know and we must never discuss it."

"Long as we do not go down that road, we are good."

"Then let's stop talking about it, dear brother."

"Stop talking about what? I don't know what you are talking about?"

-.-

Terrence watched the captain of the Slytherin's Quidditch Team walk off after their short conversation. Well, it was more of the other guy is demanding him to continue with Quidditch and do every attempt to keep his head in the game. After discussion, the captain walked off feeling satisfied he did his job.

Terrence couldn't help but shake his head at his older housemate's demand of him. Of course he intends on continuing his Quidditch career. Professor Snape, Mr. Elric and his parents made it clear if he starts to fall behind in the sport, Alchemy is off his lift of classes. He likes Alchemy. He likes the atmosphere, likes how Mr. Elric only shows some sort of favoritism to all his students. Not once did he ever play on blood, house or anything else along those lines. So much hate could be take before it starts to make you hate oneself.

"Terrence!"

Terrance turned around to see a Rachel McWilliams, a fellow Alchemy student, running down the corridor towards him. The fourth year Ravenclaw is wearing her Hogwarts' uniform, but is wearing a pair of pants instead of a skirt, sunflower colored hair which is tied up using her tie. "McWilliams."

"Higgs. What do you think of the Placement Exam?" The Ravenclaw asked the Slytherin with worry evident in her voice. "I don't believe I did well in the decoding portion of the test. I've never scored that high in that area."

"I'm sure you did well enough." Terrance managed to get in between Rachel's sentences. The Ravenclaw is a constant worrier, always doubting herself and even questioning why she was placed in Ravenclaw. If she wasn't worrying then is talking at a hundred miles a minute about anything to everything that caught her attention. "Take a breath."

"-Then I thought about what Mr. Elric taught us back in Amestris and bam! Everything made sense! Well? How do you think you did on the test?"

"…Am I allowed to speak now?"

"Yes, I asked you a question."

"...Don't know. Don't care right now. I'm hungry and I missed breakfast to study."

"Really!? Don't you know breakfast is one of the most important meals of the day!"

-.-

"Not again… Xerxes! Give me back that paper! I need to grade it!"

"Hoot!"

"What do you mean I don't give you enough attention! You were napping all day!"

"HOOT!"

"AHHHH! Not the hair! Take the papers!"

[woundvest7-blog]

Links Thanksgiving Day 11/22/18

Readers, I hope your Thanksgiving is convivial!

Sperm whale found dead with 13 pounds of plastic in its stomach National Geographic

Goldman sued by Abu Dhabi fund over 1MDB FT

Danske Bank whistleblower says he was offered hush money City AM

Cash Rules Everything Around the Bond Markets Bloomberg

Stock-Market Margin Debt Plunges Most Since Lehman Moment Wolf Street (EM).

Texas Is About to Create OPEC’s Worst Nightmare Bloomberg

Stop Eco-Apartheid: The Left’s Challenge in Bolsonaro’s Brazil DIssent

Why Algorithms Suck and Analog Computers are the Future De Gruyter Conversations (DK). From 2017, still germane. “Tomorrow’s applications demand stronger computing powers at much lower energy consumption levels. But digital computers simply can’t provide this out of the box.”

Brexit

Theresa May seeks to resolve final blocks over Brexit deal RTE. May to return to Brussels.

Vote Leave loses legal challenge over Brexit spending breach Guardian

Who speaks for Northern Ireland on Brexit – Business bosses or the DUP? Belfast Telegraph

Will the Tories Sacrifice Theresa May to Survive? Foreign Policy. You can’t beat something with nothing…

What’s driving this French revolution? Unherd

North Korea

U.S. to scale back major joint military exercise in bid to keep North Korean nuclear diplomacy on track Japan Times

Syraqistan

Trump’s Amoral Saudi Statement Is a Pure Expression of Decades-Old “U.S. Values” and Foreign Policy Orthodoxies Glenn Greenwald, The Intercept

Erdogan, MBS, Islamic leadership and the price of silence Pepe Escobar, Asia Times

China?

Apple Supplier Foxconn Signals Deep Cuts as Smartphone Demand Wanes South China Morning Post

Hong Kong democracy leaders go on trial over Umbrella Movement The Star

China’s Government Drove the Electric Vehicle Industry’s Rapid Rise, U.S. Think Tank Says Caixin

Why Japan finds coal hard to quit Nikkei Asian Review

India

How the rise of shadow banking fed India’s ‘clash of egos’ FT

Half of ATMs may shut by March on stricter regulatory norms DNA India (J-LS).

‘India Connected’: A new book looks at how the smartphone is changing the lives of Indians Scroll

New Cold War

Russian Diplomacy Is Winning the New Cold War Stephen F. Cohen, The Nation

Ukraine Crisis Deepens: Fresh Water Supply At Risk Awful Avalanche

Trump Transition

Roberts, Trump spar in extraordinary scrap over judges AP

White House approves use of force, some law enforcement roles for border troops Military Times

Filings Show Trump’s DOJ Chief Still Working for 14 Companies

Nick Ayers Is Rising Fast in Trump’s Washington. How Far Will He Go? NYT

Democrats in Disarray

Democrats need a bold agenda. Here’s what they should do in the first 100 days of Congress. Bernie Sanders, WaPo

Ocasio-Cortez backs Pelosi for speaker as long as she ‘remains the most progressive candidate’ CNN

Nancy Pelosi Revived Obamacare After Democrats Left It for Dead The Intercept

Nancy Pelosi and the Audacity of Identity Driven Hustles Ghion Journal

The Democrats’ White-People Problem Joan C. Williams, The Atlantic. Better than the headline.

Big Brother Is Watching You Watch

The Dirtiest Place in an Airport Is Not in the Bathroom Vice

Julian Assange deserves a Medal of Freedom, not a secret indictment USA Today

Imperial Collapse Watch

We’re Headed Toward Perpetual Conflict and Cataclysmic War Truthdig. As shown by military curricula.

Who Says Economic Sanctions Work? Scott Ritter, The American Conservative

Class Warfare

After 20,000 workers walked out, Google said it got the message. The workers disagree. Recode

The IRS hired private debt collectors who are squeezing poor people and hurricane victims Quartz (DK).

Two US senators pushed the IRS to outsource its debt collection to private companies through this program: Chuck Grassley, a Republican from Iowa, and Chuck Schumer, a Democrat from New York who has hailed the initiative for bringing jobs to one of the poorest parts of his state. As if by coincidence, three of the four debt-collecting companies contracted by the IRS are based in Iowa and New York. They declined to comment on the program.

No doubt. Some days, it seems like the planet is owned and operated by the Harkonnens.

AP Exclusive: Gov’t questions unfair student loan practices AP.

“A 2017 study by the Government Accountability Office estimates that a typical borrower of a $30,000 student loan who places their loan into forbearance for three years — the maximum allowed for economic-hardship forbearance — would pay an additional $6,742 in interest on that loan.”

As above.

Countering the geography of discontent: Strategies for left-behind places Brookings Institution

Financial structure and income inequality (PDF) Bank of International Settlements

We’re getting taller and heavier. That’s not good news for food security or the planet Anthropocene

A Disaster of Our Own Making. The Atlantic

How Political Opinions Change Scientific American

Antidote du jour (via):

See yesterday’s Links and Antidote du Jour here.

This entry was posted in Guest Post, Links on November 22, 2018 by Lambert Strether.

About Lambert Strether

Readers, I have had a correspondent characterize my views as realistic cynical. Let me briefly explain them. I believe in universal programs that provide concrete material benefits, especially to the working class. Medicare for All is the prime example, but tuition-free college and a Post Office Bank also fall under this heading. So do a Jobs Guarantee and a Debt Jubilee. Clearly, neither liberal Democrats nor conservative Republicans can deliver on such programs, because the two are different flavors of neoliberalism (“Because markets”). I don’t much care about the “ism” that delivers the benefits, although whichever one does have to put common humanity first, as opposed to markets. Could be a second FDR saving capitalism, democratic socialism leashing and collaring it, or communism razing it. I don’t much care, as long as the benefits are delivered. To me, the key issue — and this is why Medicare for All is always first with me — is the tens of thousands of excess “deaths from despair,” as described by the Case-Deaton study, and other recent studies. That enormous body count makes Medicare for All, at the very least, a moral and strategic imperative. And that level of suffering and organic damage makes the concerns of identity politics — even the worthy fight to help the refugees Bush, Obama, and Clinton’s wars created — bright shiny objects by comparison. Hence my frustration with the news flow — currently in my view the swirling intersection of two, separate Shock Doctrine campaigns, one by the Administration, and the other by out-of-power liberals and their allies in the State and in the press — a news flow that constantly forces me to focus on matters that I regard as of secondary importance to the excess deaths. What kind of political economy is it that halts or even reverses the increases in life expectancy that civilized societies have achieved? I am also very hopeful that the continuing destruction of both party establishments will open the space for voices supporting programs similar to those I have listed; let’s call such voices “the left.” Volatility creates opportunity, especially if the Democrat establishment, which puts markets first and opposes all such programs, isn’t allowed to get back into the saddle. Eyes on the prize! I love the tactical level, and secretly love even the horse race, since I’ve been blogging about it daily for fourteen years, but everything I write has this perspective at the back of it.

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Source: https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2018/11/links-thanksgiving-day-11-22-18.html

[joshuamagno]

Taking Your Sales Performance Up-a-Notch

By Dave Kahle

“Selling is more difficult now that it was just a couple of years ago.” Most of the participants in my sales seminars nod solemnly when I make that statement. And then they begin to fidget in their seats when I follow that up with this: “And it will be more difficult next year than it is today.” They become really uncomfortable when I extend that idea: “And it will be increasingly more difficult every year thereafter.”

That’s a sobering truth that we don’t like to face. Yet, just a little bit of reflection will convince us of the likelihood of that statement holding true. Aren’t the products and services you sell growing more complex and sophisticated all the time? Aren’t the demands of your customers growing more complex also? Aren’t the processes that you use to do your job effectively growing more intricate every year? Isn’t competition growing more challenging every year? Isn’t your company changing rapidly, and expecting you to be a part of those changes?

Now, ask yourself one more question. What’s the likelihood that one day in the near future all of these trends will stop on a dime and everything will become simpler?

You know the answer. The job of the field sales person will continue to grow more complex, more challenging and more difficult for the foreseeable future.

So what does that mean to you? It means that you will need to continually change and adapt constantly. It means that you will need to become proficient at learning new things and improving yourself. It means that, from this point on, you will have two jobs:

1. Doing your job 2. Constantly changing and improving yourself.

At first this seems unfair. There was a time, not so long ago, that a field sales person could pay his/her dues, put in a strenuous few years, and then begin to coast as you leveraged the relationships you created and the product knowledge you gained. Those days are gone. In their place is the time compressed, stress laden, constantly changing atmosphere we currently inhabit.

It may seem unfair. You may have been born a few years too late. But, really, it’s not so different than other components of our economy. Aren’t manufacturers expected to constantly improve their products, and every now and then bring out a breakthrough new technology? Isn’t your company continually improving its processes? Aren’t your suppliers constantly bringing you ideas and services? Don’t your customers strive to continually improve their businesses and their processes?

So why should field sales people be any different? They’re not. Welcome to the 21st Century. Welcome to the world of two jobs.

What does all this mean to you? It means that you have to work as diligently at improving yourself as you do at selling and serving your customers. It means that you have to invest time and money in your other job. It means you need to become serious about taking your performance up a notch — to the next level.

Where to start?

I like to compare this job of continually improving yourself as being like golf. Everyone can golf. I know that, because I have done it a couple of times. Eventually I put the ball in that hole. So, I, like millions of other people, can golf. But I can’t golf very well. That takes some effort.

If someone were to say to me that, by this time next year, I must be able to make my living golfing, I’d suddenly become very serious about it. I’d find the best golf coach I could find and arrange a whole series of lessons. I’d invest money in the best clubs I could get. I’d spend hours every day practicing. I’d invest major amounts of time and money in improving my golf skills.

Continuous improvement in selling is like that. For the rest of your working life, you’re going to make your living, at least in part, by continually improving yourself. And, while everyone can do it, not everyone can do it well. Those people who learn to improve themselves well to grow faster and better than their colleagues, will be those sales people who will enjoy increasing income, more fulfillment, opportunities for greater challenge, and a satisfying personal life. It’s like golf. If you want to become better at it, you’ll invest time and money in improving your game. Here are some ideas to help you along.

Start with a commitment of time and money.

Begin by accepting the idea that constant improvement is now part of your job, and make a decision to take it seriously, to invest time and money every week in the process. Remember, it’s like golf. To get good at golf, you’d invest time and money. To become proficient at continuous improvement, you need to invest time and money also.

Focus on best practices.

I recently received a phone call from VP of Sales who said he was looking for the latest, new state-of-the-art selling techniques. I replied that he wasn’t going to find much of that. Almost all the behaviors of highly successful sales people are the same as they were a hundred years ago. The applications are more sophisticated, but the core behaviors are the same. Sales is still about creating relationships, understanding the customer, matching your product/service to the customer’s needs, negotiating next steps, leveraging satisfaction, planning and preparing properly.

There is no magic to selling, and there are no secrets. Those are just enticing words designed to sell the latest sales book. Instead of magic and secrets, there are best practices and core competencies.

Every profession in the world has evolved a body of knowledge about how to effectively practice in that professional. That body of knowledge is generally available to all the practitioners of that profession, and becomes the standard by which professionals in that field are judged.

Every time I get on an airplane, I’m comfortable in the knowledge that my pilot has learned the best way to fly this plane, and it doesn’t much matter who the pilot is, everyone of them has been trained in the best practices.

When I review the financial statements my accountant has prepared, I’m confident that those statements reflect her disciplined use of best accounting practices, and that every other accountant would recognize them.

When I go in to see my doctor for my annual physical exam, I’m confident that he is using the best practices of his profession. That if I went to another doctor, because there is a recognized way to do this, the process and the results will be very similar.

And so it is for every profession. It’s the way the world progresses. We build on the wisdom and experience of those who have gone before us. We don’t need to reinvent the wheel when it has already been around for generations.

Why is it, then, that we think that every sales person has his own way of selling and that is OK? Why is it, then, that we think sales people should learn by trial and error, on the job? Would you expect your pilot, doctor, or accountant to figure it out for themselves? Are there any self-taught professional golfers out there?

There are best practices for the job of field sales person. If you are going to continually improve, you need to study those practices.

It’s what you do, not what you know.

Occasionally I come across a sales person who says something to the effect of this: “I knew all that.” Too bad, he/she missed the point.

The point is, continuous improvement is all about what you do, not just what you know. In other words, once you understand the best practices, you need to incorporate them into your routines. It is not enough just to know, you must do. Life is not about academics, and we don’t get paid for what we know. We get paid for the results we bring as a result of the actions we take.

If you are going to grow, you need to be constantly prodded to put into action those things that you already know. Most human beings, left to themselves, would rather watch TV and goof off than do the hard work of continually improving themselves.

Back to our golf analogy. I know how to grip the golf club, I know how to set up the shot, and I know how to swing correctly. But I very rarely do it! My problem isn’t what I know; it’s what I do.

So it is with sales people. Ultimately, continuous improvement is about what you do. It’s one thing to know something, it’s another to consistently put that knowledge into action.

I recall Isaiah Thomas, the superstar guard for the Detroit Pistons during their Bad Boy days. Isaiah had a new home built with an enclosed mini-basketball court. Why? So he could practice foul shots in his off time. Isaiah knew how to shoot. He had practiced that shot tens of thousands of times. But he was not as good at it as he could be, so he continued to practice.

How about you? Do you know it all? Or are you, like Isaiah, dedicated to continuously improving what you do?

About the Author

Dave Kahle is one of the world’s leading sales authorities. He’s written twelve books, presented in 47 states and eleven countries, and has helped enrich tens of thousands of sales people and transform hundreds of sales organizations. Sign up for his free weekly Ezine. His book, How to Sell Anything to Anyone Anytime, has been recognized by three international entities as “one of the five best English language business books.” Check out his latest book, The Good Book on Business.

Source: http://www.commence.com/blog/2018/07/11/taking-your-sales-performance-up-notch/

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