#i think this also opens the venue for adjacent mind-control??

[strywoven]

It’s established in novel-canon that the Guardians have this strong , telepathic link , this inseverable bond.  In the last novel , Nightlight – now officially Jack Frost – demonstrates that Pitch and his creatures ( whether once-human and irreparably mutilated by his presence / magic or those that are entirely consumed by his power / possessed by him ) share a v e r y similar link ; some sort of HIVEMIND .  When Jack cuts the scar he received from protecting Pitch from harm in the fourth novel , we see that the theory is confirmed.  As he puts it , “[...] — and if Pitch felt this pain, then so must all his minions” (p. 303).

Like , I am not joking when this stands to reason that Pitch and his subordinates are this MASSIVE COLLECTIVE OF FEAR & DARKNESS , setting Pitch himself – not as the head of the beast – but the very HEART of it , the core upon which all its power and focus is centralized , beating throughout every darkling , nightmare , and foul creature he has ever manifested in h i s image.  There are pieces of himself in each and every one.  And that , in prospect , is horrifying when the novels continue to tell the reader that Pitch has control over thousands upon thousands of these hordes , that his power over them CANNOT be thwarted or dispelled unless he , himself , grants them freedom.

Genuinely , I wonder if he f e e l s it when the Guardians destroy his creatures … And , to some detached sense , I want to say he does ; like an ache , though it’s nothing like grief.  I think , too , there is room for telepathy / communication in this connection ( plausibly , he can likely track his hordes and give them orders through the shadows in their thoughts ) .

I dunno , I just thought this was a neat thing.

[missdawnandherdusk]

Together In Paris

Auror!Draco X Auror!Reader

Summary: Cliche mini-series: There was only one bed/fake dating

A/n: I have no idea where this came from but it’s beautiful and so soft and cute and ugh. I love you guys so much so let me know what you think as always!! Also this is 8k words because I have no self control at all.

“There has to be some mistake,” I gasped. “Harry, you can’t be serious!”

“I need this case in the hands of my two best Aurors, and that’s you and Malfoy,” Harry leaned against his desk, arms crossed.

Draco was very quiet and very still beside me. Where my anger was loud and biting, I could tell that his was cold and unforgiving.

“Okay, and I’m flattered, but Harry,” I dismayed. “This is a weekend in Paris for a couples retreat. What the bloody hell do you expect us to do there?”

“Act like a couple,” Harry said, as if it were obvious. And I wished that it wasn’t. “And bring in this potions smuggler,”

I huffed and stormed off, heading to my desk to gather what I needed for this god forsaken case. Stupid Harry. Stupid Malfoy. Stupid shiny shoes that were in my line of vision.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy,” I looked up, abandoning my spare anti-hex potions in their bottom drawer. “What do you want?”

“You act like I’m happy about this,” He snapped coldly. “I’d rather spend a weekend in Paris doing something enjoyable with just about anyone else.”

Fury burned in my heart as his words pierced it. I couldn’t deny that they stung a bit. Truthfully, Draco wasn’t the worst person to get stuck on a case with. Instead I was angry because Harry just assumed that I’d be okay with pretending to date someone, even for a case.

“Just what every girl wants to hear,” I snarled. “What do you want Malfoy?” I sighed, continuing to pack my bag.

“What time would you like me to pick you up tonight?” His tone was so polite that it had me reeling, abandoning my task of packing.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The case, it starts tomorrow evening. I assume that you’d like to get there early and see what we’re dealing with? You have with cases before,” He gave in tidbit of knowledge so offhandedly that I almost missed how Draco had somehow managed to pick up on my habits.

“I... uh. Yeah,” I zipped my bag and slung it over my shoulder. “Is seven alright with you? I have a few things that I need to get in order before we head out.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven then,”

Deciding that the interaction with Draco was one of the weirder moments of my life, I prepared myself for a weekend filled with... coupling—ugh. I spent about an hour ranting to my empty flat as I packed a suitcase and garment bag, my more expensive dresses safely inside. I paused in the mirror and sighed wistfully. Coupled with Draco Malfoy. Yeah right. We weren’t even in the same spheres of influence. Our spheres didn’t even touch remotely.

Promptly at seven, my doorbell rang, and I could tell that Draco was eyeing my jeans and sweater skeptically. I seemed like a teenager standing next to his immaculate, no doubt tailored- to-him suit. Lost. Lost was a good word that fit. I seemed lost when I stood beside Draco.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” I sighed, letting him in so that we could apparate together.

I should have looked over the case notes a bit more. I would have dressed better if I had known Draco and I would be staying at the Ritz. I understood Draco’s look of contempt for my wardrobe earlier.

“Are you ready?” He asked again, softly.

“Yeah, sure.” I smiled settling into a fake persona that was desperately in love with Draco Malfoy. With the smile he returned, I could tell that Draco had done the same as he wrapped his arm around my waist. I tried not to gawk at the lavish lobby as Draco checked us in and I tried to also ignore the disapproving looks I got from the staff about my wardrobe. I stuck closer to Draco after one to many nasty stares.

French fell elegantly from his lips as he spoke to the receptionist. It escaped my mind that he could speak the language—it was probably one of the leading reasons that he was placed on this case: he could thrive without a translation spell. The small French woman made a remark that seemed to upset Draco, his words becoming harsh, his lip curling in anger. The woman started to stammer her words in what I assumed was apologies as she smiled nervously at me before pressing a key into Draco’s hands. A bellhop followed behind us with our luggage.

“What was that all about?” I asked Draco when we were alone in a imperial suite—either the Ministry had given Harry way too much power over funds or this had Malfoy written all over it.

“What was what?” Draco asked, drawing the curtains.

“The receptionist,” I gave, running my fingers over a marble statue of the Venus De Milo.

“Yes? What about her?” He raised an eyebrow at me, shrugging off his blazer and undoing his cufflinks.

“You snapped at her,”

“Ah,” Draco’s lips drew into a thin smile. “Well, I could hardly stand for her to be insulting the love of my life, now could I?” Sarcasm dripped in his tone as his smile became wicked.

“Oh, you stuffy people and your stuffy rules!” I dismayed. “Jeans are comfortable! So are sweaters!” I folded my arms childishly.

“I’m not arguing there, but Y/n, come on, at the Ritz?” Draco piqued an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know it would be here! Bloody hell, I would have dressed better if I knew!” It’s what I had been wanting to scream for the past hour that it felt nice to let the words finally leave my lips.

A chuckle fell from his lips as he sat at in a plush armchair, gesturing for me to join him. I sighed and sat in the adjacent chair, pulling my legs up onto the seat with me. If Draco disapproved, he didn’t voice his opinion.

“Now, before we begin,” His voice dropped into a formal tone, and I knew he was speaking about the case. “I need to know boundaries for you. Yes, we have to be a couple, but I don’t want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable or throw you off guard. I need you sharp and focused for us to do this case successfully,”

“That was... almost sweet,” I chuckled darkly.

My tongue darted between my lips as memories that I tried hard to keep locked down came resurfacing. It was another reason for my fury about the case. Harry knew that I had just gotten out of a toxic long-term relationship and I doubted he thought twice about my approval on the matter of this case. My eyes dropped to my lap; my eyebrows drawn together.

“Y/n,” He called softly, drawing my attention from my spiraling thoughts.

“Just...” I started. “I’m fine. Hug me, kiss me, hold me close, call me whatever, I don’t care,” The words were sharper than I meant them to be as I stormed out of the room and slammed whatever door was between us.

Leaning against the same door, fighting tears and the urge to apparate back home, my eyes settled on one large, silk draped, pillow lined, king sized bed.

“No,” I gasped. “No, no, no!” I screamed. “There is no way in hell!” 

“Y/n?” A soft knock was on the door behind me.

I yanked it open and met an anxious looking Draco.

“What the hell!?” I gestured wildly to the bed.

“Are you alright?” Draco neared me cautiously. “Are you sure you’re up for this case?” 

“Oh, don’t patronize me!” I snapped. “I’m just fine!”

“Then what in the world are you on about?” He folded his arms defiantly.

“The bed,” I hissed.

“Yes, what about it?” Oh, I wanted to punch him. 

“There’s only one.”

“Oh, she can count, the day is saved,” Draco rolled his eyes. “Yes, there’s one bed, do you think a couple would be sleeping in separate beds? We have a cover to keep,”

My face scrunched up in anger as I sighed and scrubbed my face, my resolve falling flat.

“Right, the case.” I nodded, putting on a false calm smile. “Any boundaries of yours I need to know about?”

Draco eyed me warily, and whatever he wanted to say died on his tongue as he regained composure.

“Just be polite. Formal. We’re... how did you put it? Stuffy people, not teenagers,” There was a small smile on his lips.

“Right,” I nodded and sighed. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,”

“It’s my fault, I should have warned you.” His tone was soft. “And I also should have mentioned that I fully planned on sleeping on the floor, or perhaps a couch. I’d never impose on your privacy like that.”

I thawed a little more and my smile became a bit more real. “Thank you, Draco,”

“I’ll... leave you alone. If you’d like to change, we can explore a bit, though it’s all about the same here,”

“You say that like you come to Paris for lunch,” I drawled. “Not all of us have been out of the country, Malfoy,”

“You’ve—” He backtracked. “You’ve never been to Paris?” 

“No?”

“Get changed,” He ordered. “Never been to Paris,” He scoffed, closing the door behind him.

 __________________________

........................

“Harry,” Draco hissed, his eyes darting away from your retreating form.

“Can it, Malfoy,” Harry pushed off his desk and rounded it. “I don’t want to hear how you don’t want the case either,”

“Forget about me.” Draco nearly roared. “Don’t you understand how bad this is going to be for Y/n? How much this is going to hurt her?”

Harry looked dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you are so blind!” Draco distressed. “She just got out of a very unhealthy relationship not a month ago and you want her to pretend to be in love with someone else? Are you bloody mad?”

“It’s just one weekend,” Harry insisted.

“Oh, I pity the girl you take home,” Draco sneered. “I’ll do the case. For her sake.” 

...................

Of course, Draco knew about your breakup. He worked with you for Merlin’s sake. He noticed when you were too quiet or skipped out on meals. Not that he ever meant to, but he liked his routine, and every other person in their rightful place as well. He noticed when a pattern was broken.

You were still a brilliant Auror despite it all. You smiled more. You actual made conversation with him now. He was happy for you. You seemed... free. Reanimated. He feared that this case would be the mental breakdown that everyone around you seemed to be waiting for. And Draco didn’t know if he was ready for that. He didn’t know if you were ready for that.

So, he’d be civil. He’d be a jerk if it meant sparing your feelings. He’d make this as easy as he could for you. He knew what it was like to need to break but terrified of the act itself. To hold his head high despite wanting to lash out at everyone and everything. And he had grown from it. Learned how to break in a healthy way. And how to pick himself back up.

It was about fifteen minutes before the bedroom door opened and you stepped out. Draco’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. Switching your jeans and sweater for an A-line black skirt that draped down your frame, paired with a white button up blouse, sheer thigh highs and a pair of heels in one hand and a Prada bag in the other.

“Is this okay?” You asked timidly. “I... I don’t really do this sort of thing,”

Your hair draped effortlessly down your shoulders, and light makeup that gave you an airbrushed look. An inviting look. Whatever made you think that you shouldn’t do this sort of thing needed to be stopped immediately because you looked wonderful.

“Draco?” You pulled him from his thoughts. He blinked a few times, recovering.

“Uh. Yes, that’s perfect,” He rushed out, your cheeks flushing pink. “Shall we?” He offered his arm.

Slipping on your heels, they clicked on the floor, a melody to the sharp sounds of his dress shoes harmonizing on the marble floors.

“So, you’ve never been to Paris?” He mused.

“No,” You looked down. “I’ve always wanted to travel but...” A sharp breath entered your glossy lips. “I guess I can now. Huh,” You smiled at the thought, holding your head high and Draco wondered if your ex-lover had prevented you from travelling. “So, this is Paris?” Your eyes flitted to the towering antique buildings, the smile remaining on your face.

“A small part of it,” Draco chuckled. “The night is coming soon, but if we have tomorrow, I’ll take you around the city,”

A laugh bubbled from your lips, a pretty sound that went with the flowers in the window boxes. The sun was setting and the streetlamps hanging their heads began to illuminate the Parisian streets. It gave the scene around them a softer look, painting you in a golden light.

“You know you don’t actually have to take me on a date,” You mused. “It’s just a case, Draco,”

“Case or not, I won’t have you in my city and not see some of it.” Draco decided.

“Your city?”

“You understand that I do have a summer home here, right?” He raised an eyebrow. “And this is where my family used to come on holiday? And that one of my best friends lives here?”

“Really?” Surprise flickered across your face. “Who?” 

“Pansy,” Draco smiled. “She moved here after...”

You nodded and your eyes traced to a small café and a couple sharing a soufflé on the patio. Your eyes dropped to the sidewalk under your heels, your smile falling.

“Would you like to get some dinner?” He asked softly.

“I... no thank you,” Your voice was quiet. “I already ate.” 

“Dessert then perhaps?” Draco tried. “Ever had crème brulee?” 

“Can’t say that I have,”

Your hand dropped from the crook of his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around yourself. He could see you shutting down at the thought and he wasn’t sure if he should keep pushing you or let you close yourself off.

“Don’t you think you deserve one? You’ve always wanted to come here, you’re here now. Don’t let him ruin it,” Scared he had overstepped his bounds as your silence dragged on, Draco began to grow more worried with each quiet second.

“You’re right,” You finally spoke. “I’m here now. I’m free to do as I please. And I really want to try a crème brulee,” There was a childlike smile on your face.

Draco led you across the cobblestone street to the small café that you had been eyeing earlier and swiftly ordered for the both of you in French as you got lost in the sights and smells around you.

Despite the later hour, the café was far from closing down. The waiter came with the assortment of bakery sweets that he had ordered, and you gaped at them.

“I thought we were getting one crème brulee,” You protested.

“Well, I figured you’d want to try a few other things as well. I know that you enjoy sweet things,”

Draco pushed the small dishes your way and watched you nibble your way through the pastries and desserts, hoarding the ones you enjoyed and passing to him the ones you didn’t prefer. You were lost in your own little world as you marveled at the Parisian pastries, particularly enjoying macarons—as well as your crème brulee.

“Thank you,” You looked down, a soft smile on your lips. “This was... really nice.” The dishes had been long cleared from the table and it left the pair staring that the stars through the shop window.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Draco offered his arm again and led you back towards the hotel.

There was only one bathroom in the suite, so Draco allowed you to use it first. In the meantime, he stood out on the balcony of the suite, overlooking the Paris skyline. It hadn’t changed much since he was a small child. The only thing that seemed to change massively was the one looking out. Draco didn’t know how long he stood there, pondering the stars, but your small voice pulled him from those thoughts.

He turned and you were back into your normal favored attire: cotton sweats and a sweater, thick socks on your feet and your hair in a messy ponytail. A smile touched his lips, because you looked just as wonderful like this.

__________________________

The girl in the mirror looked confused, but happy all the same.

“We’re just friends,” I told her. “That’s all I need. This is a case. This is a job, and Draco’s a friend.” She smiled back at me and nodded.

“Draco?”

He was on the balcony, lost in thought I supposed. He turned all the same, a soft smile on his face.

“I... I can take the couch if you want,” I offered. “I’m shorter than you... it’ll probably be a nightmare for you to sleep on the couch,” My gaze dropped as I shifted from foot to foot.

“Don’t worry about it,” Draco smiled, closing the French doors to the balcony and drawing the curtains. “I’ve done it before, I can do it again,”

“Oh,” I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that but brushed off the intrusive thoughts that threatened.

Since the bathroom was connected to the master bedroom, I perched on the bed, the bedside lamps on allowing me to continue my book. It was an old muggle classic that I found myself lost in. The bathroom door opened, and my eyes darted over to see Draco with damp hair in an old pair of Slytherin sweats and a V-neck. A small laugh escaped my lips at the sight.

“What?” He demanded.

“Nothing just didn’t expect to see you in Slytherin sweats, that’s all,” I closed my book, resting it on my lap.

“Oh, well.” He flushed slightly. “Goodnight,” 

“Goodnight,”

He closed the door behind him, and I stared at the ornate doors for longer than I cared to admit. Sighing, I pulled out the case file and began to comb through the details. Harry wanted us to find potions smugglers who sold to high-brow cliental. From Polyjuice potion to Death Draught. The next sale was supposed to go down this weekend here at the Ritz during a couples ball. There were no names given for the criminals, but a description: male, two meters tall, brown cropped hair, and green eyes.

There was something almost familiar about the description, but I couldn’t place it. Sighing, I set down the file and turned off the lights, settling in for a long day tomorrow. The oversized pillows and expensive sheets offered me no comfort. They were too cold, to silky. I craved my quilt from home and my cotton sheets.

Giving up on the notion of sleep, I threw off the covers and went to the closet. There I found a knitted blanket that was heavenly soft to the touch. Stripping the bed of the top sheet and duvet as well as most of the pillows, I curled up with the blanket and a couple pillows and chased sleep.

“What in Merlin’s name?” The voice was confused and loud for this early in the morning. “What did the pillows ever do to you?”

I blinked out of the warmth of my dream and into the crisp morning, face to face with a disheveled sleepy Draco Malfoy.

“What?” I sat up, scrubbing my eyes.

“The bed? Hell, if I knew you were going to demolish it, I would have said take the couch,” There was a slight smile on his face.

“Didn’t feel right...” I mumbled, hugging my knees. “I’ll... I’ll clean it all up.”

“Don’t bother, we’re paying enough, housekeeping can take care of it. I’ll ask if they can switch the sheets to cotton for you,”

“Oh, no. Please don’t cause any trouble on my behalf.” I stammered quickly. 

“It’s not trouble,” Draco smiled. “It’s their job, darling,”

“Doesn’t mean we have to make it harder.” I stumbled out of bed and grabbed my wand, casting a spell so that the bed remade itself. “Why are you up so early anyway? The sun is barely up.”

“Old habit,” he gave a tight smile. “Fancy some breakfast?”

“It’s too early to eat,” I grumbled. “Coffee however is necessary so lead the way, darling,” I drawled sarcastically, draping one of the hotel house coats around me to mirror Draco’s silk green one that he no doubt owned already.

Draco paused at the door.

“If you need an out. Or a break. At any time. Let me know and I’ll get you out.” His voice was careful and serious.

“I’m not going to break,” I refuted defiantly. “If that’s what you’re waiting for.” I pushed past him and out the door, down the hall and to the elevator. The ride was quiet and tense.

“I never meant to imply—”

“Just leave it.” I cut him off. “I haven’t had enough caffeine to deal with this yet.”

“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered as we exited the elevator and I wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for, but it thawed me out a bit.

Breakfast was tense and quiet as we ate in silence. Draco read the Daily Prophet and I continued on my book. We made polite conversation with passersby and smiled like we were in love.

And I was in love. With the China teacups and their gold leaf accents. With the rich foods served and the beautiful decor. I was in love with the lavish tablecloths and the fancy napkins. I adored the chandeliers and sconces and fresh flowers that were on every table. It was beautiful and I was in love with it.

It wasn’t fair that Draco looked at home among the beautiful things. As if he came with them. “Are you still wanting to see the city?” He asked cautiously when we were back up in the suite.

“If you’re willing to put up with me for the day,” a smile touched my lips. “I... I know I can be a handful.”

“All things considered,” he mused softly. “I think you’re doing wonderfully.”

I smiled and lingered a moment longer than necessary before heading to the master bedroom to change. Favoring for a pair of high waisted black slim pants and a cold shoulder emerald top, I decided I could have looked worse. Lacing up my boots I headed out to Draco who was laying down his collar. His eyes swept over my figure, leaving me slightly self-conscious as I braided my hair loosely.

“Here,” Draco reached into the nearest drawer and pulled out a black ribbon and passed it to me before reaching back into the drawer. “These are my mother’s, but I don’t think she’ll mind you borrowing them,”

He offered me a black velvet box and inside were nestled a pair of diamond earrings. 

“Draco, I can’t—”

“You can and you will,” he smiled. “You deserve it,”

I looked at the earring and my resolves crumbled as I put them on.

“Is this your suite then?” I mused.

“Took you long enough to figure that one out,” he chuckled.

“Should have known from all the green,” I teased back.

“It’s a regal color,” Draco insisted.

“Sure thing darling,” a chuckle left my lips as we headed out the door. 

“It is!” He tried again, causing me to laugh. 

_________________________________

Draco had been to Paris just about as many times as he had been to London. Perhaps the city lost some of its shine over the years. Maybe after the war the Paris lights didn’t look the same to him. Perchance he had lost his childlike awe of the historical envied city.

But you... you had never been to Paris. You have never walked along the Seine. You had never seen the Eiffel Tower, never browsed the art of the Louvre. You’d never stood under the light filtered through the stain glass of the Notre Dame. Your fingers never ran over the rough stone of the Arc de Triomphe.

Now you had.

“This was a very nice not date,” You smiled, sitting beside him on a bench watching the people of Paris below you from the top of the Eiffel Tower. “I can see why you keep coming back,”

“I haven’t been since the... since I became an Auror,” Draco’s eyes were trained on the horizon.

“Well... I’m glad you came.” There was a gentle smile on your face as he caught your warm eyes. “On the case, I mean.” You recovered and looked down at your hands. “I know this probably isn’t easy for you either,”

“It could have been worse,” Draco teased lightly. “I could have been stuck with Greengrass,” His words seemed to pull you from your moping thoughts as your smile returned.

“She’s a sweet girl, I’m sure you would have been fine.” You went back to fidgeting with your hands, your eyes dropping to them, “Besides who wouldn’t want to go undercover as Draco Malfoy’s significant other,” It was a sad sort of humor.

“You?” Draco pressed softly.

You gnawed on your lip, lost in thought as your eyes became glassy with unshed tears. “We should go,” You barely whispered, standing. “We have a banquet tonight at the hotel.” 

“Y/n,” Draco followed you to the elevators.

“What?” It was a bit more defensive now.

“I didn’t mean—”

“You don’t mean a lot of things, I know,” Your arms folded tightly across your chest, your head ducked down. “It’s fine, we have a case to do and a criminal to catch. You said it yourself, I need to be sharp and focused to do this successfully,” Your tone was clipped, and Draco was taken aback at your sudden change of attitude on a drop of a dime as his words came back to haunt him. “So, if you don’t mean any of it, then neither do I,”

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came. Your abrasive words sent him reeling. What had happened to the girl who was wonderstruck by the city? The girl who was amused at the street performers and the girl who smiled something carefree? Just when he thought the real you was free beside him, you caged her back again and locked him out, and he shouldn’t care, but he did. Because you were hurting. The same way that he used to.

But he had to admit that you were right, he had a case to accomplish. And if he wasn’t focused you could get hurt, he could get hurt, or the felon could slip through your fingers.

In his well tailor suit and his hair coiffed back precisely, he was ready to do everything and mean nothing. A cold mask that you mirrored as he met you in a deep navy draped silk gown, your heels in hand again. His heart didn’t mean to skip a beat.

Tucked against his side, smiling like you didn’t have a care in the world, he was quite glad that the other guests and staff didn’t expect much animation from him. It gave him time to keep an eye on you. He could schmooze with ease and little effort, and he soon learned that so could you. From the outside, you two looked perfectly smitten with another. Despite his many shortcomings, Harry was right, you two were perfect with this case.

But that’s not what held Draco’s main focus. Instead, it was the constant reminder that this meant nothing. Every gentle touch of your hand, every smile, every pet name, every laugh, every praise of him, every declaration of love, every concerned and caring word—they all meant nothing. It meant nothing to you. It was an act. A job. A case.

And he was losing focus.

Because though you had stumbled into his affluent world in jeans and a sweater, you were now at home among the wealthy wizards you now rubbed elbows with, possessing the grace and poise of someone who was brought up like he was. You knew how to use the silverware set before you. You knew proper etiquette.

“Miss Y/n,”

Amelia Bones, the former head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was sat at the banquet table along with you and Draco. You rose your head politely, nodding a hello.

“I’m surprised to see you so cozy with Mr. Malfoy, was it not a month ago you were engaged to another?” Her words seemed harmless, but Draco watched your smile become more forced as the breaths passed.

“My apologies,” Draco cut in coldly. “But I don’t see how that is any of your business,” 

“Oh, forgive me dearie, I meant no offense at all,” Mrs. Bones flutter her hand.

“Of course,” You smiled widely, “And yes, you’re correct, but well, since working with Draco it deemed nearly impossible not to fall for him,” The look you gave him made him lose focus completely. “And it was an arranged marriage, my parents offered me the option at the beginning of the war, and well, I had no reason to refuse,” Your hand slipped into his. “Until I met Draco that was,”

“Oh, isn’t that just lovely,” Mrs. Bones fawned to her husband beside her. “A real fairytale ending you have yourself Y/n, I’m sure others are just dying to be in your shoes,”

“I’m sure,” Your smile became forced again, but you held your composure.

But that didn’t mean that Draco didn’t commandeer the conversation to keep the attention off of you for the remainder of the banquet. You excused yourself slightly early, though it was a polite time to leave, nonetheless. Draco bid the folks he was talking to and followed you out.

He found you on the balcony, barefoot, your hair out of the tight bun it had been in, your dress still on. The stars stretched out before you over the rooftops of Paris, the Eiffel Tower illuminated in the distance.

“I told you, I’m fine,” Your words were barely audible.

“I didn’t say anything,” Draco retorted, slipping off his blazer and tie.

“You were thinking it,”

He smiled as he came beside you, leaning against the railing.

“Maybe I was,” He sighed softly. “Regardless, you’re my partner on this case, and I dare say you’re a friend of mine. I’d like to know if you’re okay. It’s what friends do,”

A sigh escaped your lips as your eyes lifted from your hands back to the skyline blinking back tears.

“Friends,” You muttered weakly. Not that he liked the word much either, but he’d take it to keep you close.

“I... I know that we—I haven’t had much luck at this, but if... if you need someone to...” Draco trailed off, shaking his head. He knew it was a lost cause. He knew that you didn’t mean anything.

Again, you were quiet. He turned to leave, but you spoke up.

“He was supposed to be my happily ever after,” The words were soft and sad. “My prince charming come to save me.” Draco paused and turned back to you; his brows furrowed. “All this time I thought he’d save me... but I ended up saving myself, and him.” You went from facing the city to facing him, “And he refused to save himself. And made me feel terrible for saving myself... for becoming someone new... someone stronger.”

“You... seemed happier after...” Draco spoke carefully.

You nodded. “Everyone was waiting for me to break. To cry... go off the wall... and sometimes I wonder why I don’t. Why I can’t.” You turned your head to the side. “Sure, I get snappy... and the nights haunt me... but to cry? To miss someone who drained me?” A shrug fell from your shoulders. “I can’t do it...” A pause. “Maybe I am broken. I can’t even break properly.”

“No one said you had to break,” Draco took a careful step forward. “No one said you had to cry.” 

“But shouldn’t I?” There were tears in your eyes now.

“No,” Draco shook his head softly. “Breaking hurts, and it seems like you already have. Now you’re just picking up the pieces where you can,”

You mulled over the thought and nodded, facing the city once more.

“They always talk about the one who got away, but they never ask her why she left, do they?” The question was gentle from your lips as Draco left you alone to think. He was sure that he wasn’t meant to hear it, but he did.

____________________________

The cotton sheets of the king-sized bed that night welcomed me. The bedding had changed drastically, from silks and down feathers to cotton and quilted blankets. They were still green and gold, but it was an improvement as I stared at the paintings on the walls and ceiling. Despite the change in sheets, sleep still eluded me. Frustrated this time, I slipped on the housecoat and quietly opened the bedroom doors.

Only to find Draco awake with the light on, reading. I almost wanted to smile at how he was draped over the couch in sweats and nothing else, looking at home among the lavish furnishings. He looked up from his book.

“Can’t sleep,” I confessed, leaning against the door jam. “Thanks for the sheets and stuff though...”

“Is there something I can do?” He asked softly, setting down his book, sitting up.

“Got any Sleeping Draught on you?” I asked hopefully.

“Afraid not,” He pursed his lips.

Moving to the adjacent chaise lounge, I curled up under the throw blanket, running the golden fringe through my fingers.

I wasn’t aware of when I had fallen asleep. I was barely aware being carried to the lavish bed and tucked in. I was aware that I had moved when I awoke to the sun shining in through the curtains.

“Good morning,” Draco greeted as I exited the bedroom, dressed for the day.

The day was a quiet affair. Breakfast mimicked yesterday and lunch mirrored dinner last night. There was no time to go out on the city today, not with the masquerade ball tonight. This was the entire reason for this weekend in Paris. To get into this ball and catch the convict. It took the two hours that it took to get ready to remind myself that this was a case, and not a fairytale ending. I didn’t get those.

Draco escorted me down to the ballroom, commenting on how beautiful I was. I let the compliment roll off my shoulders though I desperately wanted to cling to his words. Words that he didn’t mean.

It didn’t seem fair that the entire Ritz hotel was something out of a fairytale and tonight I was required to pose as the perfect princess, though I felt far from it. My only relief was that my eyes were hidden behind a mask. No one would see accidental tears. I had told Draco that I didn’t need to break, but this might just break me.

An hour slipped by of talking and schmoozing other guests before Draco led me to an adjacent standing table, offering me a haven from the prying eyes and whispers.

“Would you care to dance?” Draco offered his hand, smiling, as the next waltz began from the live quartet.

“We don’t have time to dance,” I retorted. “We’re on a case here,”

“It’s just one dance,” He rolled his eyes, his hand sliding to my waist, ready to escort me.

“You need to focus on this case Draco,” I snapped. “We need to catch this guy in case you’ve forgotten.” I didn’t mean for the words to be so harsh.

“Of course,” His hand dropped from my waist, “If you’ll excuse me,” Draco said quietly. 

“Dray, wait, I didn’t mean—”

“I’d know those lips anywhere,” A familiar voice purred from behind me.

“Dean,” My breath caught in my throat as I turned, wishing I hadn’t just sent Draco off.

“And I thought he’d never leave.” Dean grinned. “I gotta say, didn’t think you’d move onto some stiff like Malfoy, and so soon. Does he know he’s a rebound?”

“Oh, fuck off,” I muttered, taking my clutch and walking away from him, scanning the crowd for Draco to no avail.

Dean grabbed my arm and spun me back, a dangerous look in his eyes. He pulled me to a quiet corner of the ballroom.

“Let go of me,” I shook him off, drawing my wand.

“Now, now, wouldn’t want to cause a scene, now would we?” His smile became predatory. “There are quite a few important Muggles in the crowd tonight,”

“You’re a bastard, you know that?” I hissed.

“Such naughty language in front of such high paying cliental.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “It’s you,” I breathed out. “You’re the seller,”

“In the flesh, sweetheart,” His green eyes held danger. “What, didn’t expect me to move onto something better? Like you went off and did anything valuable with your life after me, not that Malfoy is much of an improvement.”

I hid my surprise well: he didn’t know that I was an Auror. He didn’t know about the case. Now all I had to do was get him away from harming anyone and pray that Draco would find me to help detain Dean. But to get Dean away from these people, I was going to have to break. Hard.

A perfect masquerade to be someone that I wasn’t. Someone that Dean wanted me to be. Someone who would break my heart.

“Tell me about,” I smiled sweetly, “Maybe I’ll ditch the stiff.” My eyes scanned over Dean in false want.

“So, you realize that leaving me was a mistake,” Dean tilted his chin back.

“Since the moment I walked away,” The lie weighed heavy on my tongue. “Please De,” My hand trailed up his arm.

I could feel my heart splintering. 

_______________________________

“Not to alarm you Mr. Malfoy, but it seems that your lady is being entertained by another young man,” Mrs. Bones spoke softly. “They just left out the side door,”

Draco snapped out of his self-pity party as he scanned the crowd for you, his anxiety and adrenaline spiking. You had found the convict.

“Thank you,” Draco gave curtly, untying the mask from around his head and as soon as the door closed behind him, he took off running, wand out, desperate to find you.

He heard soft voices in coming from an adjacent sitting room and cautiously hovered outside the door.

“Remember this?” The voice was low and husky, and one he didn’t recognize. 

“Yes,” Your breathy voice came in response.

A thousand thoughts ran through Draco’s mind and for a moment he thought that you really had run off with someone else. That you hadn’t found the felon, but rather someone to... He didn’t want to finish the thought.

“Say it,” The first voice demanded.

“I’m s-sorry,” Your voice whimpered. “I’m sorry I ever left you. Draco... he—he’s nothing compared to you,” Fear and tears were mixed with your voice and Draco had a very good idea of who was in there with you.

Call it jealousy, or his job, Draco burst into the room, finding you pinned against the wall, hands above your head held there by a young man whose lips were pressed to your neck, making you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut. A man with green eyes and brown cropped hair. Their target. And you had found him. And he seemed to know you. Very well.

Then it clicked. The criminal was your ex-lover. Of course, it was. When Draco saw Harry again, he was going to sock him a-la-muggle.

You look absolutely terrified when Draco caught your eyes. Your mask was gone, and you looked disheveled and defeated.

“I was hoping you’d show Malfoy,” An amused smile curled on the target’s lips as he let you go. You fell to the floor, caught off balance.

“Don’t hurt him,” You pleaded, picking yourself up, and Draco didn’t know if you were talking to him or the target.

“You’re not in a place to bargain, sweetheart,” The target snapped. “Auror Malfoy. Here to turn me in I suppose?”

“After I beat the hell out of you, yeah, it’s on my list of things to do,” Draco snarled. 

“What? For taking your girl from you?” The target laughed. “She was never yours.” 

“She might not be mine, but she sure as hell doesn’t belong to you either,”

“I’m afraid she does,” The target grabbed your arm and jerked you in front of him, creating a shield between he and Draco with you. “And you obviously care for her, so here’s what’s going to happen.” The man drew his wand and held it to your throat. “You’re going to let me make the deal I need to, and then I’m going to take Miss Y/l/n here and leave,”

Draco glowered, his mind racing to figure out how to get you safely out of this. He could see you trembling, your eyes refusing to meet his.

“Dean, please,” You whimpered, curling yourself into his arms.

Your arms draped around the target’s—Dean’s shoulders as you whispered soft things into his ear that made Dean grin and Draco’s blood boil. How could Dean not see how uncomfortable you were? How you shied away from him? Draco’s grip on his wand tightened.

He watched as your lips pressed to Dean’s neck, your hands trailing down his ill-fitting polyester suit as you slinked your way around the felon, distracting Dean long enough that Draco was able to throw a Full Body Bind at him.

“You bitch!” Dean roared.

“You’re the bitch here,” You snarled. “How in a million years could you think that I would want you?” Seething you rounded your frozen ex, wand drawn. “I did do something with my life you asshole! I’m an Auror! And a damn good one!”

“You never had the guts,” Dean barked a laugh.

“On the contrary,” Draco grinned. “She’s the best one we’ve got,”

“You two set me up!”

“Duh,” You laughed, tucking away your wand.

Draco wanted to warn you about the dangers of the deed, but you surprised him and drew back your fist, landing it squarely on Dean’s nose.

“That’s for assaulting me!” Another to his jaw, “That’s for using me!” One more to his cheek, “And that’s for coming back into my life,”

You turned and walked away from Dean, leaving him bleeding, still petrified. Draco caught your hand before you stormed out of the room.

“I’m fine,” You shrugged him off.

“No, you’re not,” Draco refuted.

“Awe, trying to play hero, now?” Dean jeered.

You froze under Draco’s touch, squeezing your eyes shut, your jaw clenching.

“She doesn’t need a hero,” Draco let you go and faced Dean. “She picked herself back up and walked away from a lowlife like you. You were so wrong to ever assume that she needed to be saved.”

There was a knock on the door. 

______________________________

I was still trembling. It had been about two hours since Dean first touched me. First shoved me against a wall and forced his lips on mine. From when I had first started to shatter.

In that time, Mrs. Bones had intervened and called backup to detain and court away Dean to Azkaban, the room had been cleaned of any trace of our battle, and Draco and I were alone in the suite, for one last night before we left.

We hadn’t spoken a word since the fight and the tension between us was tangible. Curled up in a deck chair, I desperately tried to rid my mind from Dean and the feeling of his hands on me, his lips on my skin, his whispered words. I shouldn’t be afraid. Not like this. I was an Auror. I was independent and strong.

But hell, I was breaking. Fast and hard.

Draco knocked on the balcony door, drawing my attention. I looked to him, hopeless and terrified. He offered his hand, an invitation, a call. I rose, my resolve fading as I ran into his arms, breaking down in tears. His arms wrapped around me, cradling me to his chest. I frantically grasped at his white button up, trying to ground myself.

Draco gently tugged me to the floor, still cradling me in his arms.

“I—I’m sorry,” I cried out. “I... he... I thought I...”

He shushed me softly and rubbed my back softly. “You don’t owe me an explanation.” 

“I didn’t mean it,” I gasped out through tears. 

“I know,” His tone was somber.

But though the night dragged relentlessly, it was not the worst night of my life. I took comfort from that. And I was not alone. There was a great deal of comfort in that, too.

My hindsight seemed unbearably clear tonight. I could see every mistake I’d made, every bit of harm I’d done, the small things and the big things. Each pain I’d caused Draco, each wound I’d given myself, stacked up into neat piles that I could not ignore or deny.

And I realized that I’d been wrong all along about wanting to be alone. It had not been Draco and I that I’d been trying to force apart, it was the two parts of myself, the one who craved a companion and the one who was independent and free. But they didn’t know how to exist together, and I should have tried harder to figure it out.

I’d done so much damage.

Draco said little; he just held me on the floor and let me ruin his shirt, staining it with saltwater. At some point a blanket was draped around my shoulders and I was too miserable to figure out where it came from.

It took longer than I thought it would for that smaller, broken part of me to cry herself out. It happened, though, and I was eventually exhausted enough to sleep. While I slept, I felt warm, protected, comforted. I didn’t feel alone.

In the morning, I saw the reason why. It was one of the reasons that had me terrified in the beginning of this entire case:

There was only one bed.

And I wasn’t alone.

Epilogue:

“I did apologize right?” I asked again sheepishly.

“And I told you, you have nothing to apologize for,” Draco smiled. “It’s what friends are for Y/n,”

I smiled at the word. Friends. It was the solution to my dilemma. The part of myself that craved a companion but satisfied the girl with dreams and freedom. It was in front of me the entire time. I wished I had realized sooner, and maybe this weekend would have been different, but friends... more than friends, whatever we were or weren’t, Draco had decided to stand by me regardless, and I was grateful.

“Y/l/n, Malfoy, how was Paris?” Harry asked offhandedly as we reported to him Monday morning.

What I wasn’t expecting however, was Draco grabbing Harry’s collar and decking him.

I covered my mouth, trying to conceal a laugh but failed miserably.

“What the hell Malfoy?” Harry sputtered, holding his bleeding nose.

“You wanna know who was dealing those illegal potions?” Malfoy snarled. “Her ex. And you sent her into this weekend blind,”

Harry’s eyes widened in shock as he stammered out apologies.

I rolled my eyes and left the office, a warm smile on my face. Draco walked beside me.

“You didn’t have to do that you know,” I muttered. “Is your hand alright?”

“I know how to throw a punch and not injure myself,” Draco rolled his eyes at me. “And I’ll take any chance I can get to punch Potter in the face,”

I laughed as we apparated to Paris for lunch.

.

Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18@whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522@zombiesnips-blog @savingdraco@welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald@memalfoy-spidey @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise  @dietkiwi @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur@belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie@xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte@braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel @darcypotter-blog@atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck@beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde@iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread  @okaydraco@the-queen-of-hell-things @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing @sunflowerxsadnessw @fattycooter @angelotakunerd08@thisisahugemistake @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy@strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge @cleopatera @ray-of-sunrise@artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @peters-legos@quillsareforwriting @ghostlytoadalmondhairdo​ @wollymalfoy​ @lilpieceoftoast​  @paper-cats​ @floweryjh​ @sdicapriox​ @slothgirl22​ @peachesandpinks​ ​ @hufflautia​ @livize75​ @annie-mcl​ @riathearora​ @live-like-luna​ @justathoughtfulangel​ @coconutdawn​ @skteaiy​ @wannabeskinny-thinspo​ @naughtygranger​ @queenofmankind​ @dragonsandbread​ @abundantxadorations​ @moony-artnstuff​ @myforeveryoungblog​ @and-then-a-girl-with-luv​ @1-800-luvsick​ @pandas-rice-field​ @strawberriesonsummer​ @jjustsomerandomgirl​ @mrvlfangirl3190​ @in-slytherin-we-trust​ @emmaa-t​ @introvertedrae​ @infinity1o1​ @stoleurmomsvan​ @echpr​ @sunkissed-hufflepuff​ @dekulover​ @marshmallowtraver​ @cereuselle​ @lonely-skywalker​ @xlosttdreamss​ @sleepysnapesnake​ @hoeforthefictional​ @coldlilheart​ @helen-paris​ @romance-geek​ @rosie-starlit-sky​ @californiaa-babyy​ @vulture-withafile​ @hogstupefy​ @littlepanda-love​ @eveft​ @iraniq​

[scapegrace74-blog]

Ginger Snap, Chapter 2

A/N I am breaking probably the only rule I gave myself when I started writing fanfic, which was Don’t Ever Post a WIP.  But lord knows I’m not immune to peer pressure and the narcotic that is reader feedback, so here it is, the second chapter of what is now an open-ended modern AU story about Jamie the Chef and Claire the Kitchen Disaster.  Still a first person Claire POV, so I apologize in advance for any stray pronouns.

For the first chapter, I recommend reading it on Ao3, since I’ve made some minor edits since I first posted it on Tumblr.  See above re. not planning on posting a WIP.

Oh, and funny story.  When I decided to check the location of the real Ginger Snap catering company in Edinburgh, it was squished between “FrazersOnline” and “McKenzie Flooring”.  If that’s not kismet, I don’t know what is.  The location I describe below, however, is based on a catering venue here in Ottawa called Urban Element, where I’ve attended a few team-building events.  I have yet to set anything on fire, though.

I checked my phone for the third time, confirming I wasn’t lost.  

Frank and I moved to Edinburgh over the summer, just in time for him to start his position as Associate Professor of History at the University of Edinburgh. Despite our years spent in America, neither of us cared overmuch for driving, so we chose a flat (or rather, Frank chose a flat and I concurred) not far from campus.  Therefore, this was the first time I’d ventured as far afield as Leith, a maritime enclave just to the north of the capital that couldn’t seem to decide if it wanted to be grittily working class or artistically hip. 

When I finally reached the address, I had to smile.  No main street pretensions or non-descript commercial frontage for Ginger Snap Catering.  Before me stood a two-story red brick fire station, still emblazoned with the crest of the Scottish Fire and Rescue Services.  The two massive truck bays were now enclosed by see-through doors that could be drawn back on a sunny day.  Through these a warm yellow light could be seen, spilling onto the grey, damp pavement.

A petite woman with dark hair manned the small reception area, a red-haired toddler clinging to her like a marsupial.  She held a phone to one ear while simultaneously pacing the polished concrete floor.  I stood as unobtrusively as possible near the door, but in such an open space it was impossible not to overhear her side of the conversation.

“... they willna take ‘im back until ‘is fever goes down...  aye, an hour ago when I picked him up but it hasn’t... nay, i dinna think it’s... tis jus’ terrible timing with two weddings t’morrow... Could ye?  Och, I owe ye Mrs. Fitz, a million times o’er... Anytime, we’ll be here.  Alright, soon.”

The speaker turned to me, the harried look of a working mother sharpening her already honed features.

“I apologize fer keeping ye waiting.  What can I do fer ye t’day?”

Before I could respond, the young boy, probably no older than two, began to fuss, rubbing his flushed cheek against his mother’s shoulder.

“Och, mo ghille, Mam kens ye’re poorly.  Mrs. Fitz is coming as fast as she may.”

Unable to quell my instinct to diagnose and then cure, I spoke up.�� 

“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation.  Based on his age and the way he’s holding his head, it may be an ear infection.”  At the woman’s penetrating look, I hastened to explain: “I’m a doctor.  Would you mind if I took a closer look?”

Permission granted, I carefully palpated the boy under the jaw and peered as best I could without an otoscope into the offending ear canal.  Confident in my diagnosis, I recommended treatment with a warm compress, an over-the-counter analgesic ear drop, and children’s paracetamol to control his fever.  If, after twenty-four hours the symptoms had not improved, they could consider seeing his pediatrician for antibiotics, but these were only truly necessary for a persistent infection.

“Och, ye ‘ave no idea what a relief it is tae hear ye say so, lass.  He’s my first bairn, ye ken, an’ I can ne’er tell if I’m over-reacting or being negligent.   Can ye say thank ye tae the nice doctor, Wee Jamie?”

My stomach jumped.  “Wee Jamie?  Is he related by chance to Jamie Fraser?”

“Aye, tis his nephew.  I’m Jamie’s sister, Jenny.  Ye ken my brother, then?”

The pieces fell into place, and my insides settled.

“We’ve spoken before,” I explained.  “I’m Claire Beauchamp.  You and your brother helped me with a dinner party emergency last Tuesday.  I came to return your market bags, and to thank you again for coming to my aid during my hour of need.”

Jenny and I spoke for another ten minutes, sharing the superficial narratives of two strangers brought together by circumstance.  She was warm and thistly by turns, and I felt a longing for the honesty of female friendship that I’d given up when we left Boston.  Eventually a matronly woman arrived to collect Wee Jamie.  I carefully wrote down the exact names and dosages of my prescribed remedy.

After Mrs. Fitz and Wee Jamie had left, it occurred to me that Jenny needed to get back to work.  I’d accomplished what I’d set out to do, even if I hadn’t thanked Jamie himself.   As I began to make my goodbyes, however, Jenny interjected. “If ye’re no’ in a rush, why dinna ye join our afternoon cooking class?  My brother will be demonstrating how tae make quiche.  Tis the least we can do, after ye helped Wee Jamie.”

Which was how I found myself standing behind one of six cooking stations arranged across the fire station’s main area, a bright red apron covering my black slacks and saffron turtleneck.  My impetuous curls were slowly breaking ranks from where I’d slicked them into a bun that morning.  I worried I looked like a human Pez dispenser.

I glanced at the workstation immediately to my left.  A slight woman who I guessed to be roughly my own age was engrossed in her phone, a cheeky smirk playing on her berried lips.  Her strawberry blond hair was swept into an effortless chignon that made me twitch with envy.  She looked up from her screen and caught me looking her way.

“Geillis Duncan,” she said, offering a well-manicured hand.

“Claire Beauchamp.  Pleased to meet you.”

“Is it yer first time taking a class, Claire?”  At my nod, she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially: “Ye’re in for a treat.”

Before I could enquire what she meant, a murmur amongst the other students (all women, save one) was accompanied by the heavy tread of work boots on polished concrete and a familiar Scottish burr.

“Good afternoon, everyone.  Thank ye fer joining me on this dreich Scottish day.  I ken a few of ye are new, so let’s start with a brief overview of yer stations and some basic safety reminders, before we tackle the quiche.”

Today Jamie was wearing a pair of olive pants that tapered down his endless legs and a technical shirt that clung valiantly to his upper body.  He looked like he’d just stepped off the nearest rock climbing pitch.  I wondered if he owned anything that answered to the name of a professional wardrobe, but I couldn’t deny that he looked impressive, in an athleisure sort of way.

“See what I mean?” Geillis hissed at me as Jamie made his way to the front of the hall, speaking now about optimal burner temperatures.  “That man is a dozen kinds of yes.”

I concentrated on each step of the ostensibly simple recipe.  Pie crust had been the previous week’s assignment, so I had only to blind bake the prepared dough already at my workstation.  Once I had the crust centered exactly in the pie pan, pierced with a fork in orderly rows and placed in the oven, I rushed to catch up with the others.  I’d missed Jamie’s instructions regarding pan frying the bacon, so I increased the flame, thinking I could make up a little time.  The fatty meat crackled pleasingly as I set it in the lightly greased pan.  I was inordinately proud of myself.

Things went very badly, very fast.  First, my eyes wouldn’t stop watering as I meticulously peeled then dissected the onion into near-transparent crescents. Tears obscured my vision and I tried to wipe them away without contaminating my hands.  To my left I could make out Geillis skillfully cracking eggs into a glass bowl, her pie crust already elegantly filled with crispy morsels of bacon and caramelized onion bits.  

A vague sense of having forgotten something important tickled my mind.  My pie crust!  Grabbing a silicone glove (I wasn’t making that mistake twice) I rushed to the wall oven and extracted the pan.  Giddy with relief, I saw the dough was only a little dark around the edges.  

Before I could return victorious to my station, Jamie uttered a Scottish noise of alarm from his vantage at the front of the class.   We both rushed across the room to where my rashers of bacon now resembled blackened shoe laces obscured by a heavy veil of smoke.  With practiced ease, Jamie lifted the entire skillet into the adjacent sink and turned on the cold water.  A cloud of steam enveloped his head, highlighting his auburn curls.  I bit my lip as he looked my way in amusement.

“I hope ye werena planning on serving quiche to yer faculty guests t’night, Ms. Beauchamp?”

I stood meekly next to Geillis for the remainder of the class, no longer trusted around open flame without adult supervision.   She graciously allowed me to extract her quiche when it was done baking.  It looked like a magazine cover.  Meanwhile, my workstation looked like the scene of an industrial accident.

While we were waiting for her quiche to cook, Geillis and I got to know each other a little better.  She was a Highland lass from up near Inverness.  Married to a wealthy older man, her life sounded like an endless quest for diversion.  Despite this, or because of it, she had a sharp-witted frankness that I appreciated.  She was also a hard-core gossip.

“Wee besom,” she remarked with a nod towards a blond girl who was currently monopolizing Jamie’s attention with endless questions punctuated by manufactured giggles and flicks of her pin-straight hair.  “Tha’s Laoghaire Mackenzie of the Mackenzie brewing dynasty.  They’ve a live-in cook, so there’s only one reason she attends these classes, and it isna for the quiche.”

I watched Jamie laugh over something the girl said, mineral eyes alight and his perfect white teeth on display.  I suppose I couldn’t blame her.  I wasn’t here for the quiche either.

The interminable ninety minute lesson finally ended.  I thanked Geillis profusely and we exchanged numbers before she rushed off for her reiki treatment.  Gathering my trench coat and purse, I tried to slink away without calling any further attention to myself.

“Ms. Beauchamp!”

I cursed under my breath, then turned to face him.

“Please, call me Claire.  After I nearly burned down your place of business, we should probably be on a first name basis.”

Jamie chuckled. It sounded more natural and lived-in than his earlier response to Laoghaire, but I was likely fooling myself.

“Och, wha’s a cooking demonstration wi’out a wee bit of drama.  Will ye be joining us next week?  We’ll be making ceviche, sae I willna need tae put the fire brigade on stand-by.”

“Bastard,” I replied to his cheeky smirk.  “Alas, I don’t think I’m cut out to be a cook.  It appears to be the one science I can’t master.”

“Cooking isna a science, Claire,” he explained with sincere intensity.  “Tis an art.  Perhaps tha’s the root of yer struggle.”

“Perhaps it is.  But in that case, I may as well give up now.  I haven’t an artistic bone in my body.”

His languorous perusal of said body lit a different kind of flame in my belly.  Geillis was right; he really was a dozen kinds of yes.

“I canna say as I agree.  Come back any time if ye’d like tae try again.”

I blushed, thoroughly discomfited by his blatant flirting.  He knew about Frank.  He’d fled from him onto my fire escape, for Christ’s sake!  Maybe when you looked like James Fraser, every interaction with a woman was merely a chance to hone your craft.  Or maybe he was truly ignorant of his effect.

“I’ll take that under advisement.  Thank you again, Jamie.”

“Until the next time, Arsonist.”

[septicfag]

GETTING INTO PUNK MASTERPOST 

Want to get into the punk subculture, but a bit intimidated by it?? Here's a little list of tips and tricks for getting into the scene!!!  [especially if you don't know any punks in real life, or aren't particularly close friends with any punks online either]

THINK FOR YOURSELF!!!! this is so important, you cannot be punk and NOT think for yourself, before accepting anything you have to think it through for yourself!!!!

DON’T BE RACIST, XENOPHOBIC, SEXIST, HOMOPHOBIC, TRANSPHOBIC, FASCIST. ETC. you cannot be part of a group of radical free thinkers as a bigot. If you are a bigot you are not and will not be welcome in the punk community

INFORM YOURSELF ON CURRENT ISSUES. Work to figure out what you think about current issues because (as stated before) its punk as hell to have your own opinions

LISTEN TO PUNK MUSIC. You don't have to listen to anything you don't vibe with, but trying out different genres of punk and listening to some of the big names will help you understand and share something in common with more “seasoned” punks.

TALK TO OTHER PUNKS. most of us are really nice, especially if we know you're trying to get into the scene! You can always interact/talk to us! most of us know how it can be a little scary to break into the scene and are willing to talk about our experiences!

TAKE YOUR SELF EXPRESSION INTO YOUR OWN HANDS. to whatever extent you can make/modify clothes for yourself. add patches and pins or paint on clothes [use fabric paint or acrylic mixed with fabric base for a cheaper alternative] ITS 100% OKAY TO WEAR YOUR MODIFIED CLOTHES EVEN IF THEY'RE NOT "DONE" YET! FUCK FAST FASHION!!

LOOK AT PUNK FASHION. there have been around 50 years of punk fashion, so find some you dig and base some of your modified clothes off of it (I'm really into 80s punk looks so I normally look like I crawled out of CBGB [famous punk bar in NY] during its peak years). Staples of a punk look are clunky boots or skate shoes (converse or knockoffs), band shirts, and battle jackets! Punk “fashion” is based on DIY and practicality. (it should be noted punk clothing also has an emphasis on being safe for moshing/protests, so normally no HUGE spikes and impractical shoes and super loose clothes)

GO TO SHOWS! ESPECIALLY LOCAL SHOWS!! going to shows in your local area is a good way to get into the scene. if you're underage or live in assfuck nowhere it's completely fine to not travel hours or get kicked out of a venue halfway through the show, so feel free to wait until you have a good chance to go to one. If you're in an area with a local scene, going out to local shows is a great way to meet and support other punks! [suggestion by @juggernaut-is-a-metalhead]

Some other notes

YOU CAN BE ANY RACE OR GENDER OR SEXUALITY AND BE PUNK, PUNK IS NOT JUST FOR WHITE CISHET MEN! PUNK HAS ALWAYS AND WILL ALWAYS BE AN INCLUSIVE SPACE FOR EVERYONE WHO’S SICK AND TIRED OF BEING KICKED AROUND BY ANY/EVERYONE!!!

YOU CAN BE PUNK AND MENTALLY ILL, YOUR MENTAL ILLNESS DOES NOT CONTROL YOU AND WHAT YOU WANT AND WHAT YOU BELIEVE EVEN IF SOMETIMES IT FEELS THAT WAY! It’s also completely fine and valid to not want to go to shows/protests or be confrontational if you have a mental illness or honestly just don’t feel comfortable or safe doing so. 

YOU DON’T HAVE TO HAVE PIERCINGS OR TATTOOS TO BE PUNK! If you’re underage or just don’t want to or don’t have the money, it’s okay to not have body mods and it doesn’t make you any less punk. 

we really don’t like bootlickers (basically people kowtowing to authority and authority figures)

we're anti-authority 

a lot of us are atheists or at least have a distaste for formalized institutionalized religion

we kind of mind our own fucking business as long as the business isn't hurting us or others

there're a lot of anarchists in punk but you don't have to be one, there are also a lot of social democrats

we DO NOT hurt or harass people who don't deserve it (ie. kids, people who have nothing to do with whatever we're fighting against)

there're not really hard and fast rules that’s a big thing with punk, only you have power over yourself (”no authority but yourself” is a popular quote coined by anarcho-punk band, Crass)

Quick and basic punk genre breakdown

proto-punk- the punk before punk, this genre is comprised of 60s and 70s bands with a less refined sound than mainstream bands at the time, however, they normally didn’t have much in common. Bands like The Velvet Underground fall into this genre.

70's - punk begins to emerge as a genre people argue about who was actually the first punk band a popular choice is Ramones

80's- LOTS of punk potential here, 69.69% of "classic punk" bands are 80's punk

90's- ska started to emerge and punk was seen as skater music a lot of "classic punk" was also 90's 

ska punk- based more on reggae, seen as skater music, normally has fun trumpets!

riot grrrl- feminist punk (just being an all female punk band doesn't make you a riot grrrl band, there’s a sound to it as well)

folk punk- punk but with different instruments and less 3 chord riffs

post-punk- punk but more modern, normally is a bit softer than "classic punk"

hardcore punk- punk with screaming, kind of sounds like black metal, but with anarchy

pop punk- punk but it sounds more pop-y (hotly debated what is and isn't, its kind of a dumpster fire)

garage punk- punk but EVEN less polished [this is my favorite genre]

THERE ARE MORE GENRES THAN THIS, THIS IS JUST A VERY FAST OVER-VIEW. Punk has about 1000000 different sub-genres so only the most popular and well known are included here! 

(note about early punk: 70s and 80s punk sometimes included slurs in music or wearing hate symbols such as swastikas, this was because at the time a lot of punk forerunners subscribed to the idea that wearing/saying things employed by bigots would take power away from them, this idea was largely abandoned by the punk community as they made their way into the 90s. Now in the 20s punks wear lots of anti-hate symbols either coined by the punk community or lifted from other sources) 

(2nd note, concerning inflammatory or ironic statements: a big part of punk culture and lyrics is using purposely inflammatory or heavily ironic statements, one way to figure out if the sentiment in a song is actually meant to be harmful or angry and not ironic is to look up the lyrics/band. As a rule of thumb if they’re an actual punk band that’s listened to by actual punks, it’s irony 99.8% of the time)     

Some bands (almost) every punk has at least heard of:

Bad Brains, Bad Religion, Black Flag, Blink 182, Choking Victim, The Clash, Dead Kennedys, Descendents, Green Day, Leftover Crack, Minor Threat, Misfits, NOFX, The Offspring, Operation Ivy, Pennywise, Ramones, Rancid, Sex Pistols, Social Distortion

[lifted off r/punk on reddit]

Some ending tips:

don’t feel embarrassed to look up lyrics or the sub-genre of a punk song/band, it's a way of learning! also don’t feel embarrassed to look into punk history, it shows you’re genuinely interested in the message and culture!

listen to punk compilation albums! they have some amount of fame in the scene in and of themselves (such as GIVE 'EM THE BOOT [VOLUMES 1-5], PUNK ROCK HALLOWEEN [VOLUMES 1-2], and BARRICADES AND BROKEN DREAMS)

check out entire record labels! you can find a lot of cool bands that don't get a lot of attention. here's a good masterlist of punk record labels, but if that's too daunting, Fat Wreck Cords, Epitaph Records, and Discord Records are very well known. [suggestion by @juggernaut-is-a-metalhead]

It’s completely fine to not have a lot of money to spend on records or supplies for DIY clothes. Punk has an emphasis that your clothes and shit don’t have to be “pretty” they have to be functional. 

for DIY patches/pins you can put ANYTHING you want on them, song lyrics, rallying cries, dates, sayings, literally anything you want, every punk has some weird shit on their patches. 

don't feel pressured into doing anything you don’t want to do, there is/was a group of punks who are "straight edge" meaning they didn’t drink or do drugs or stuff like that (more common in the 90s/00s)

seriously don’t be afraid to interact with other punks!! we're a bit rough but generally harmless if you don’t suck!!

it’s 100% normal to also have nonpunk interests, don’t feel like you have to give up anything you love to be punk.

You don’t have to listen to any of this to be punk, being punk is doing what you want to do because you want to!! This is just a compiled list of tips for anyone not sure where to start!

PUNKS NOT DEAD

[feel free to correct me if I’ve gotten something wrong! my DMs and asks are always open if you want to hear more of my punk hot takes or want to talk to someone about punk or punk adjacent shit!]

[melbee]

Electric Love

CHAPTER 5

David Lee Roth Fanfiction

Oh see, don't ever set me free

I only wanna be by your side

Girl, you really got me now

You got me so I can't sleep at night

- you really got me

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Saying goodbye to Holly must’ve been one of the most hardest things I had to do in my life. I knew that we would see each other soon, as we promised to meet up whenever we both were available, but I realized that she wouldn’t be here for everything, and somehow I would have to survive by myself.

Well not totally by myself...but you get the point. Tears were shed, hugs, a few knocks on the head and final waves as I stood near the window that overlooked the front parking lot of the apartment, as the red Ford drove away into the sun which had begun its descent.

“You know I have these beautiful bay windows over on the other side, since the sun sets over to the west. It’s much prettier.” I heard Lewis voice out as I turned around to look at him smiling, motioning with his hands toward the other room.

I smiled, “Sure, I would love to see it.” I walked over to the windows and peaked at the sun that was steadily falling with every passing second, and realized Lewis was right. It was beautiful. I imagined those right off the beach in Malibu had the joy of watching it in full every evening, and sighed in contentment.

“It’s nice isn’t it? The light beginning to fade.” Lewis said as I felt his presence as he too made his way over to the windows and leaned in a daze.

“Yes, it reminds me of Arizona, those sunsets weren’t so bad..” I said laughing as I envisioned the many times as kids me and Holly would drive out into the desert during the weekends.

“Yes, but doesn’t it get dreadfully cold when it’s finally dark out?” Lewis asked facing me.

I shrugged as I looked over at him, “Well yes, doesn’t it get cold in California?”

Lewis plastered a sinful grin as he giggled, “Honey, quite the opposite..”

I smiled and laughed, as I stood from my position making my way over to the couch. “Oh?”

Lewis got up as well as he stood walking over and begun looking at nearby fabrics left forgotten on the counter, “Well perhaps in Bel air or some shit, but here? In Hollywood? Baby it gets hot.”

A confused looked etched my face, “What do you mean?”

Lewis rolled his eyes and sighed, “Chica, you’ll figure it out one day..”

I gave him a weird smile as I shrugged. While I had no clue what he meant by hot, I had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t talking about the weather. It was something else. I felt a chill run down my back at the thought.

“That’s besides the point... I was hoping we could go over some things, projects and sorts. I’ve got quite a few but a recent one I just picked up. I’ve been looking at designs, it’s hard to tell which would look good.” Lewis said as he sighed. I made my way over to him as I fingered the skills and the velvets, and even the.. spandex?

“Spandex?” I said as I grabbed the piece of black and tight fabric, as I heard a giggle come from my left.

“Yes, that was a bit of a client’s request. Rockstars these days...” he said as he looked at it thoughtfully.

“Oh rockstars? I heard you dealt with musicians. Who are you working with now?” I said.

His eyes bugged as his jaw dropped before slapping his face, “LORD! I completely forgot to tell you that over the phone didn’t I? Gosh I’m so stupid!”

I laughed as I shook my head.

He sprung to life suddenly, as he walked out of the room, much to my confusion. I was close to following him until he came back with stacks of what looked like paper cutouts from magazines and posters.

I grazed my hand over the first one. A beautiful tall man, with leggings that hugged every inch of his curves, a plethora of chest hair and a Jean cutout jacket that seemed to sparkle even from the picture. He had fluffy blond hair, and a look that I’m sure would make any girl drop to their knees.

It suddenly dawned on me who this was. “Are you working for..”

“Van Halen? Yes! Isn’t it wonderful. Trust me I was shocked when I got a call they wanted me to make some clothes. I mean.. come on..” Lewis gasped as he started flipping over the different pictures of the guys.

I laughed as we stared at all the different members of the band, Eddie, His Brother and what I assumed was the bass player stood in many pictures. Every time we passed by ones with the blonde haired guy, I couldn’t help but get confused at who that was.

I know I wasn’t exactly the most literate music fan, I couldn’t help my tastes were a bit old fashioned.

“So the blond guy...he’s..” I started to say as Lewis gave me a wild look.

“David Lee Roth? Do you not know who he is?” Lewis gasped standing back in horror.

I looked sheepish as I scratched my arm, “I know a few songs by them.. I haven’t really gotten a chance to listen to them fully.”

“Oh god.. that’s it! Impromptu music sesh’.” Lewis said as he made his way over to a cabinet bringing out an old record player, and opened a cabinet adjacent which was stocked with vinyls of all types. He looked through, as I made my way over to him, before he gasped and grabbed the first album to come out.

“Van Halen 1. No bullshit just straight up rock n roll.” Lewis said as he put the track on as a familiar song came on that I’m sure I heard on the radio at some point.

He beckoned me to sit down on the couch as he grabbed the pile of pictures of Van Halen, nodding his head back and forth to the music. I smiled finally getting to understand the meaning behind the meolodies. Some of the songs were quiet sad, Jamie’s Cryin? It irked me they could play such powerful and rocking music, and the lyrics were much deeper then what they appeared to be.

When Eruption started playing I couldn’t help but gasp, at the sounds that were emitted from the record player. The guitar wailed with power and sophistication. “Wow!” I said to Lewis, who just smiled at my reaction.

“You should here him play it in concert. Holy fuck, Eddie is the cutest little thing with that impish grin, he just plays that shit like he’s washing his car.” He said as he sighed looking at the pictures once more.

“Oh I’m sure..” I said imagining myself at the concert. “Do they play to big crowds?”

Lewis gave me a dumbfounded look before nodding his head vigorously, “Huge! Every single one of them are controlled by those guys, I’m telling you..”

“So what outfits are you making for them?” I asked as Lewis set the pictures down, as he got up.

“All for their shows mostly, specifically for the one coming-“ He paused with dramatic horror as his eyes bugged. “Chica!!! Their show is coming up!”

I gasped realizing he was right, remembering the billboard I had drove past on our way here. I feared the worst at his reaction. Did he not have all the outfits ready?

“Oh don’t worry. I’ve got most of them finished, I’m just finishing the bedazzled sequins on David’s chaps, and Michael’s cowboy pants.” He said as he grabbed my hand pulling me off the couch and into a separate room, that reminded me of a seamstresses room.

“Do you know hand stitching? Or bejewelling by chance?” Lewis asked as he unzipped a hanging bag and grabbed a pair of pants that by my astonishing surprise, were assless.

I smiled and laughed, nodding my head yes. As I rubbed a finger down the material “Yes, I love bejewelling! I always got As in that class in college.”

He grinned grabbing a container of crystals, and some sort of machine that imprinted them into the material. “Well great this bottom half still needs finishing. Also bear in mind that these are swarovski crystals, and I’d love if none of them get lost somewhere.”

My eyes widened as I nodded my head. He quickly showed me how to use the machine, before he made his way over to a pair of cowboy pants, and grabbed slashes of leather. “I’ve got to finish these up. Don’t worry we’ll have it all done quickly. I’ve got my friend Mari from the front desk she used to help me out, but she’s going to be help us on Saturday to load everything up to the venue.”

“Oh I met her at the front desk. She’s very nice!” I said laughing as I begun placing the crystals on the pant carefully.

“Oh she’s wonderful, poor thing won’t go to the venues anymore though...” Lewis said sighing.

“Oh really, why?” I asked. Curious if it had any thing to do with her bold words when she warned me about rockstars earlier.

“Poor thing, her heart got broken.” He said clicking his tongue, as I heard the sound of snips and tears as he worked.

“Oh.. By who?” I said.

He suddenly stopped as he gave me a look, “David.. He.. well I guess you could say they had a falling out. He wasn’t really interested in her, but she was completely in love.. I think he kissed her and well..”

“Dissed her?” I said as I frowned going back to my work.

“Yes, something like that. He played with her emotions a lot and well, she’s never been able to see him again.” Lewis said as he sighed.

“Is that why she was so stand offish about your clientele?” I asked

I looked over to see Lewis nodding, “She wanted to quit helping me out, but I told her she needed to find a way to balance her life again and so this is the only solution. That’s why I needed a new assistant. I can’t just pay someone to walk the outfits to the car and leave.”

I nodded in understanding, but what confused me, is why Mari would be so heartbroken she couldn’t even do her job properly. What exactly did that guy do to her? I hadn’t even met him yet, and he already sounded like an asshole.

“David’s very.. peculiar. He’s very eccentric, and sometimes that makes him a little insensitive at times. However, I think he means well for the most part. It’s understandable, ever since his claim to fame he would be more egotistical.” Lewis said as he continue to cut through the pieces of leather and sowed them onto the jeans.

I nodded my head in understanding, but I still didn’t believe that was a good enough excuse. Was he that clueless enough to not be careful with manipulating someone’s emotions? Something didn’t sit right with me, but I chose to ignore it until I got a better judgment.

“So what are the other guys like?” I asked Lewis, slightly humming to myself as I felt an onslaught of exhaustion hit my face as I realized that the road trip had definitely taken a toll on my body.

“Oh they’re lovely..wild... crazy as ever for sure..but a lot of them have different personalities.” Lewis said as I turned to him.

“Oh yeah?” I smiled.

Lewis laughed, “Yes, well Michael Anthony—he’s the bass player by the way— he’s a lot more calmer then the rest and very sweet, but so funny. He’s got a great smile.”

“Both the Van Halen brothers while they might be similar, they are polar opposites in a lot of ways. Eddie’s a bit more quieter, but is so cute and charming. Al is a bit wild, but he’s funny, and has a good time.” Lewis said.

“So you know them on a personal level?” I asked, realizing how familiar Lewis spoke when referring to Van Halen, and I had a hinting suspicion he was closer to them then what he put on.

Lewis laughed nodding his head, before shrugging. “I got the call almost a year ago that they wanted costumes, and I guess they liked my work so I continued. I’ve been to lots of there shows over the year, and their parties.”

I gasped, wondering how fun hanging out with celebrities would be. “Did you get to travel?”

Lewis smiled and nodded. “The best part was probably getting to go to Japan for a couple days, and a night in Sweden. I’m telling you they must ditch all the ugly people to Norway, because EVERYBODY was so attractive.”

I laughed, trying my best to picture the scene in my head.

We continued on for hours until I was just about finished, and my eyes were starting to fall from exhaustion.

Lewis noticed my tiredness and smacked his arm much to my humor. “Jeez, I’m a totally idiot! I totally got sidetracked! You must be dead tired right now.” He had finished his pants and was now cleaning up. he stood up and walked over to me signaling for me to get up.

I stood up smiling and laughing, “Are you sure I can’t help finish this last bit? I’m almost done.” I said holding my hand to my mouth as a yawn passed my lips.

Lewis frowned making a tsking sound, before grabbing my hand and leading me to my room. He turned on the light, and pointed to an adjacent door. “There is a bathroom in there, and a closet to the left side of the wall. Help yourself with a shower if you want, just don’t be in there too long. The neighbors upstairs run an indoor ‘kiddie’ pool, or some shit..”

I smiled suddenly getting the urge to hug him, so I did. Patting his back thoughtfully, before pulling away. “Thank you Lewis, truly.”

Lewis smiled, before grabbing my cheeks and squeezing them. “That’s what friends are for.”

I smiled, as he walked away before standing at the doorway giving me a happy smile. “I’m so glad you’re here, Rosie.”

I laughed, “I am too.”

“I want you to know that no matter what happens or where you go in life, I have full belief that you will excel in life. I see the passion for designing in you. It’s a wonderful thing.”

I blushed tucking my hand over my ears. Lewis beamed tapping the door softly with his hand, his rings making a solid thumping sound. “Goodnight. We will be up early tomorrow, I’ve got some of Van Halen’s tour designers coming to get the clothes ready for fitting, before the show. Mari will be here on the following Saturday.”

I nodded my head sighing loudly. “Sounds exciting. Goodnight.” With that Lewis closed the door silently, leaving me to breathlessly plop my body onto the bed, a slight creaking noise resonating through the quiet atmosphere.

I held my head in my hands, before looking up in exasperation. “Well I guess I’m fucking doing this thing.”

With that I prepared myself for the day ahead, that I had no doubt would be as eventful as they come.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

When morning came, I was ill-prepared from what would meet me through the front door.

Sure, I assumed that Lewis had a few designers he worked with and maybe they would bring in a rack of clothes, possibly some bags to help transfer them, but I had no idea the size of what the operation really was going to be.

So when a flank of men and women combined dressed in suits, and skirts came in with clothing racks of various styles of pants, shirts, and even scarfs I knew I had not prepared myself enough.

Lewis smiled brightly as the people came in, as I watched as a smaller figured girl holding a box of fabrics, with pretty brown hair struggle to keep up with the pace. I sprinted over to her, grabbing onto the other side to help her pick it up.

“Here I let me help you.” I said with a huff as I picked it up, much more effortlessly then I anticipated.

“Ooh!” I heard a cry come from the other side as we walked backwards over to a table and set the box down. I walked backwards to see the girl raise her eyebrows questioningly at me.

I smiled as I wipe my slightly sweaty palms on the side of my jeans as I raised an arm for her to shake. I could see hesitance in her eyes before she gave me a small smile and shook it.

“Hi, I’m Rose.” I said laughing as I stood back awkwardly. I couldn’t tell if she liked me or not from the odd look on her face as she stared.

She suddenly gulped as she nodded her head quietly. “I’m Annie.”

I smiled nodding my head. “Nice to meet you Annie. So, I assume you work with all these people?”

She shrugged shoving her hands into her pockets, “Yes well, it’s a way to meet ends. I love fashion.”

I laughed and smiled, but couldn’t help but turn at her odd comment. If she loved it so well, why did she say it as if she would rather be doing something else?

Her eyes glazed over, as I sucked in my cheeks at the awkward silence.

“Oh there you are!” Lewis said as she grabbed my shoulder, and looked over at Annie.

As if she was a brand new person, Annie suddenly smiled so brightly. “Hey Lewis!”

He laughed grabbing her into a hug, as she giggled wrapping her arms around him. I couldn’t help but frown slightly at her sudden bold and excited nature around him. Did she not like me? Why was she so cold and hesitant, but suddenly a new person around Lewis?

They pulled away from the hug as Lewis noticed my odd look, but decided not to comment on it. “Well it seems you guys met.”

I smiled looking over at Annie who had quieted down to only a small smile. The original glint in her eyes slightly coming back as she set her gaze back on me.

I laughed trying to cheer up the awkwardness, “Yes we have. Wow! I didn’t know this was all going to be as formal as it was!” I said trying to change the subject.

Lewis shrugged as he surveyed the busy room. “Believe me it wasn’t always like this, but we’ve all built up ourselves a lot over the past year. We’re closer then ever.”

I smiled, as he motioned for me to follow him into the room we were in last night working on the outfits. “So as you know this is my work room. We do most of the making here, and we also organize the clothing for before and after the fittings.”

I nodded my heads as the people from before stop there chattering as they all looked at me with curious expressions.

Lewis laughed, “Okay guys don’t bite. This is Rosie, my new assistant. She’ll be helping with all our preparations.”

The room immeasurably lifted as they all came walking over, a few girls laughing as they pulled me into a hug. Complimenting my hair and whispering how pretty I was.

One of the guys with a bright smile walked over embracing me tightly. “Lewis, you’ve got yourself a keeper.” He winked.

Lewis rolled his eyes trapping me in a playful arm lock, “Channing, she isn’t up for sale.”

His eyebrows quirked, “Really? So my man finally likes the front hol-“

Lewis turned tomato red, as he slipped his hand over Channing’s mouth. He laughed putting his hands up in mock surrender, as Lewis still recovering from his blush as he shook his head.

I giggled in understanding. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but many men in the fashion world tended to be, a bit blatant in their...preferences? I had a slinking suspicion that Lewis was the same way.

They all backed away, as I saw Annie who had been behind us quietly make her way over to the girls as they all began surveying the work.

“Wow! These chaps look great!” One woman said as she grazed her finger down the side of the seams.

Lewis winked at me, grabbing my hand and brought me over to the table where the clothes lay. “Well I happened to know a girl.”

The woman smiled, and looked at me in surprise. “The cross-stiching at the ends are impeccable! The crystals are placed wonderfully.”

I laughed as I shrugged, “It isn’t too complicated.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, “You’ve got in you girl. Id love to see some full ensembles.”

The other girl with red pigtails that reminded me of Holly giggled, “Yes, those outfits would for sure sell some more tickets to the concert.”

They all giggled in response except for Annie who only smiled, as her eyes glazed over in a thoughtful look.

“David’s going to love them. I just know it.” The woman said as she grabbed a hanger and clips from the rack as they all begun ensembling the outfits into bags and secured them.

“Oh he’s going to just love her, Molls” The One with red hair, said as she winked at me. “Have you met the boys yet?” Her eyes glinting with curiosity.

I simply shook my head, crossing my hand over my chest. “No, I haven’t gotten the chance. However, I’ve heard a few of the stories.”

“Yeah well, trust me they aren’t as available as you think they are.” I heard the quiet voice of Annie ring out as she stepped away from the rack.

Oh. I had wondered what her hesitancy was. Did she see me as some threat? I didn’t have the slightest idea as to why, though. I had no intention of even getting to know them, rather then actually..

Molly sighed sympathetically patting Annie’s back. “Babe, I just don’t think-“

“I don’t really want to talk about my personal life. I’ll bring some of the stuff down to the car.” Annie said with a tight lipped smile as she walked away.

The red head, noticed the tension and smiled, “Rockstars will surely be the end of all of us.”She walked over to me grabbing my shoulders. “I’m Liz by the way.”

I nodded, “Nice to meet you, Liz.” I looked over to the woman who had a small frown over her face. “You too Molly.”

She snapped out of her haze and gave me a wide smile. “Anytime, girl. We’ll be seeing each other soon.”

We heard thundering footsteps come into the room, as I looked over recognizing that it was Lewis, who must’ve slipped out the back while we are all talking. This time his signature smile was gone, as a deep perturbed looked etched his face.

“What’s wrong?” Molly said as she gave Lewis a concerned look.

“I just got off the phone with Noel. They’re all hungover as hell, right now. Apparently they all pissed somebody off at some bar.”

Liz snorted, “okay, that’s their regular Tuesday. What about it?”

Lewis sighed as he shook his head, “No, it was someone important I guess in the industry. Anyways, they’re kind of off the rails a bit still, at least David is. They had to put him in a..” Lewis then seemed to be battling his smile, as he bit a lip.

Molly gave him a humorous glance. “What?”

Lewis began laughing, “They had to put David in a straight jacket.”

I couldn’t help but smile along with the rest of group as we all snorted and giggled, at the idea of a rockstar being put in a straight jacket for being so off the walls.

I hadn’t even met David, and he already seemed like quite a character. What irked me even more is that I felt as if I did know him. I acted as if I was battling whether he was a weird guy, or just a gigantic asshole. I didn’t know what I would do when I met him. However, I knew it wouldn’t be a boring conversation.

I pictured the man in the magazine articles, his hair wild, like a mane of a lion. He had such a lustful look in many of his doctored, professional looks. However, I couldn’t help but admire the ones with him performing. That wild look, the giant smile, something told me deep down that, that was the real David. Under all the glitz and glamour, there was just a man going after one big dream.

I finally looked back at the people to realize only Channing, Liz, and Lewis had stayed in the room. I watched them all converse animatedly as Channing brought out a notebook and was hastily writing things down. They all seemed to be conversing about the outfits, as they all waved their hands widely with deep expressions.

I smiled realizing I had finally found my people. True artists. I walked over to them, as they wrapped up their conversation.

Channing smiled embracing me in a hug, “It was nice meeting you, Rose. I’m already counting the days till our next partnership.” He said as I kissed my hand, with a suave look in his eyes.

“Okay Romeo, back off.” Liz said as she laughed grabbing me in a hug. “We’ll be seeing each other in a couple days.”

“Really?” I said as I looked over at Lewis. He smiled nodding his head.

Lewis gave me a knowing look as he winked. “Chica, we’re seeing Van Halen. And I’ve got backstage passes.”

They all began to laugh as the day seemed to close with that single thought.

I was going to meet Van Halen.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

[patriotsnet]

Who Is Better For The Economy Democrats Or Republicans

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/who-is-better-for-the-economy-democrats-or-republicans/

Who Is Better For The Economy Democrats Or Republicans

Which Party Is Better For The Economy

Republicans or Democrats: Who is better for the economy?

Princeton University economists Alan Binder and Mark Watson argue the U.S. economy has grown faster when the president is a Democrat rather than a Republican. “The U.S. economy not only grows faster, according to real GDP and other measures, during Democratic versus Republican presidencies, it also produces more jobs, lowers the unemployment rate, generates higher corporate profits and investment, and turns in higher stock market returns,” they write.

However, rather than chalking up the performance difference to how each party manages monetary or fiscal policy, Binder and Watson said Democratic presidencies had benefitted from “more benign oil shocks, superior performance, a more favorable international environment, and perhaps more optimistic consumer expectations about the near-term future.”

Us Jobs Income Gdp Growth ‘startlingly’ Higher Under Democratic Presidents: Analysis

Nearly all major U.S. economic indicatorsincluding income, productivity, stock prices, jobs and gross domestic product show growth under Democratic Party presidents, reflecting a “startlingly large” gap compared to when Republicans are in the White House.

New analysis and economic research seeks answers for why all six presidents who presided over the fastest periods of U.S. job growth were Democrats, while recent Republicans including both Bushes and Donald Trump saw the least expansion. A New York Times analysis released Tuesday, which draws from vast research, asks the question, “Why has the U.S. economy fared so much better under Democratic presidents than Republicans?” The authors noted that GOP presidents in the past several decades have run up larger deficits than Democrats and party control of Congress has shown minimal impact on growth.

Some economists remain unsure about pinpointing exact factors. But the analysis concludes that Democrats have been more pragmatic and “more willing to heed economic and historical lessons” about strengthening economies, while Republicans have clung to “magical” tax cut and deregulation theories in times of crisis.

As Newsweekpreviously reported, U.S. counties won by Biden in the 2020 election make up a 70 percent majority of all U.S. economic output. Trump counties composed just 29 percent of output and included only six of the country’s top 100 most powerful local economy centers.

Us Real Stock Market Performance: Republican Vs Democratic Presidents

But this is just the picture in the US. Does the same dynamic apply in other nations with similar left-right two-party systems?

In the UK, the appeal of the Conservatives is based in large measure on the premise that they are better stewards of the markets and economy. And the UK prime minister should have an easier time enacting their policies than an American president whose party may not control one or both houses of Congress.

If we look at the data we find that economic growth has been stronger under Labour than Conservative governments. And again, if we filter out the last two economic crises and end our sample period in 2006, Labours outperformance gap only increases.

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Which Political Party Is Really Better For The Us Economy

WASHINGTON ;It seems every four years in the United States it boils down to one question for voters: hows the economy doing? Even during COVID-19, the pandemics impact on jobs and finances remains a major issue, according to a recent poll. So when it comes to Democrats and Republicans, which political party handles the economy better? A new study finds it may actually be better for Americans when both parties hold power.

Analysts at WalletHub have released their review of how the U.S. economy has fared since 1950 under both parties. Looking at times where one side controls the White House and Congress and times where the government was split, analysts find the best scenario for economy emerges when a Democrat is President, but Republicans control Congress.

The study looks at several key factors including the state of the stock market, unemployment, the national debt, home and gas prices, and even the level of income equality across America. Researchers also examined how each administration since Dwight D. Eisenhower has affected the nations fortunes.

Everyone Does Better When The Presidents A Democrat

The numbers dont lie. The question is why every Democrat isnt talking about this all the time.

Our two political parties have certain identities that are seared into our collective public brain. Democrats: the party of workers, of civil rights, of compassion and fairness, and of higher taxes and more regulation. Republicans: party of the rich, big business , the free market, and lower taxes and less regulation.

And because the GOP is the party of big business, it is universally assumed that Republicans are better at handling the economy. Polls typically find that people trust Democrats more on all the things that government does, which stands to reason, but trust Republicans more on handling the economy. Just last week I saw a poll in which respondents rated Biden as better equipped than Trump to handle race relations, the virus response, and two or three other things; but on the economy, Trump bested Biden 51-46.

Its hard wired, and its wrong. Dead wrong.

Simon Rosenberg heads NDN, a liberal think tank and advocacy organization. He has spent years advising Democrats, presidents included, on how to talk about economic matters. Not long ago, he put together a little PowerPoint deck. It is fascinating. You need to know about it. The entire country needs to know about it.;

The deck consists of about 15 slides, but Ill walk you through just six so you get the idea. Lets start with job creation under each president:

Democrats, you have a great story to tell. Go tell it.;;;

Also Check: Trump 1998 People Magazine Interview

Why Does The Us Economy Perform Better Under Democrats Than Republicans

Since Carter, no Democratic President has had a recession begin on their watch. At the same time, no Republican President including the single term Presidents has gotten through their time in the White House without a recession.

Despite the widely held belief that Republicans are better at managing the economy than Democrats, the history of the United States economy tells a different story. In nearly every metric one might use to measure performance, Democratic presidents have presided over greater economic growth.

Strikingly, this is not even by a slight margin. According to a paper published in 2013 by Princeton economists Alan Blinder and Mark Watson, the performance gap is startlingly large so much so that it strains credulity, given how little influence over the economy most economists assign to the President of the United States.

The pair suggests that this is not due to time sensitive matters or partisan fiscal or monetary policy. Instead, they attribute this gap in large part to benign oil shocks, superior TFP performance, and more optimistic consumer expectations.

In short, they chalk it up to one part luck, another part self-fulfilling prophecy whereby consumers anticipate the economy will flourish under a Democratic leader and then drive the economy upward and a third part thats, well, a mystery.

Still, they say that it is highly unlikely that the D-R growth gap was just luck.

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Heres What The Data Shows Going Back To Eisenhower

Who are better for the economy, Democrats or Republicans?

On day one, a;newly inaugurated President Joe Biden;will have to manage a devastated economy much as;he and former President Barack Obama did;12 years ago.

What can the country expect?

Forecasting how the economy will perform under a new president is generally a fools errand. How much or;how little credit;the person in the White House deserves for the health of the economy is a;matter of debate, and no economist can confidently predict how the presidents policies will play out if they even go into effect or what challenges might emerge.

Regardless,;voters tend to believe;it makes a difference. And going into the election, 79% of registered voters and 88% of Donald Trump supporters ;said the economy was their top concern. Given that, historical data suggests that those who are concerned with the economy have reason to be fairly satisfied with the election results: The economy generally fares better under Democratic presidents.

Inheriting a struggling economy

Biden will be inheriting an economy with serious problems. Things have improved markedly since last spring, but the economy remains in a dire state.

And that doesnt yet include the;impact of what some officials; including Biden have dubbed a dark winter, as;severe coronavirus outbreaks;in many regions of the U.S. have prompted new economic restrictions.

See:The Trump economic scoreboard

Democrats have a better economic track record

The stock marketSPX,

Democratic trifecta

Tough road ahead

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Democratic Administrations Over The Last Century Have Delivered Far Faster Economic Growth What Explains That

By Steve Roth

In 2013, economists Alan Blinder and Mark Watson no wild-eyed liberals, they ;asked a very important question: Why has the U.S. economy performed better under Democratic than Republican presidents, almost regardless of how one measures performance?

Start with their performed better assertion: its uncontestable. While you can easily cherry-pick brief periods and economic measures that show superior economic performance under Republicans, over any lengthy comparison period , by pretty much any economic measure, Democrats have outperformed Republicans for a century. Even Tyler Cowen, director of the Koch-brothers-funded libertarian/conservative Mercatus Center, stipulates to that;fact without demur.

Heres just one bald picture;of that relative performance, showing a;very basic measure, GDP growth:

The difference is big.;At those rates, over thirty years your $50,000 income compounds;up to;$105,000 under Republicans, $182,000 under Democrats 73% higher.

Hundreds of similar pictures;are easily assembled different time periods, different measures, aggregate and per-capita, inflation-adjusted or not all telling the same general story. No amount of hand-waving, smoke-blowing, and definition-quibbling will alter that reality.

Standing empty-handed after all their work, Blinder and Watson punt. They attribute Democrats consistently superior;performance toluck. Yes, really.

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Trump Is Right About One Thing: ‘the Economy Does Better Under The Democrats’

Donald Trump holds a campaign rally in the Sun Country Airlines Hangar at Minneapolis-Saint Paul… International Airport November 6, 2016.

Since Im an old Democrat supporting Hillary Clinton, it might surprise you to hear that I agree with Donald Trumps top line view of the economy.

No, I don’t agree with much that hes said since he started his 2016 presidential campaign, and recent revelations have rightly drawn opprobrium. But since Im also an agreeable old southerner, Ill give credit where credit is due. Donald was absolutely right when he told Wolf Blitzer in 2004: Ive been around for a long time and it just seems that the economy does better under the Democrats than the Republicans.

Thats right. Trump said out loud the same thing that Hillary Clinton has assertedand top academics and journalists have confirmed. The same thing Ive been;compiling cold, hard government data on since 1980: By crucial metrics like GDP, job creation, business investment and avoiding recessions, the economy does a lot better with Democrats in the White House than with Republicans. Just one eye-opening example: Nine of the last 10 recessions have been under Republicans.

Watch on Forbes.;Hillary Clinton Vs. Donald Trump: Where The Candidates Stand On Employment And Jobs

Pundits dont agree on exactly why. Some say the common thread may be external factors ranging from oil shocks and warm, fuzzy consumer expectations to economic cycles falling differently from political cycles.

Annual Gdp Growth Rate

Since 1933, the economy has grown at an annual average rate of 4.6 percent under Democratic presidents and 2.4 percent under Republicans, according to a Times analysis. In more concrete terms: The average income of Americans would be more than double its current level if the economy had somehow grown at the Democratic rate for all of the past nine decades. If anything, that period is too kind to Republicans, because it excludes the portion of the Great Depression that happened on Herbert Hoovers watch.

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In 2016 The Media Extensively Covered Trump Supporters Economic Anxiety Will This Misperception Continue In The Lead

Since Joe Biden became president, several surveys have found a sharp rise in Republican pessimism about the economy.

This might seem surprising considering the national economy which experienced one of its worst downturns thanks to the coronavirus pandemic is now objectively improving. The United States added 916,000 jobs in March, smashing Dow Jones expectations and the unemployment rate is now at its lowest level in over a year. And economic forecasters now predict annual GDP growth in 2021 will soar to levels the country hasnt witnessed in nearly 40 years.

Yet, despite these optimistic economic indicators, most Republicans say the economy is getting worse. On the one hand, this is to be expected, as political scientists have found that how we think about the economy is increasingly rooted in how we identify politically rather than in actual economic conditions.

Take this data from Civiqs daily tracking polls, which has asked Americans about the economy each day since June 2016. Americans perceptions of the national economy have changed wildly depending on whether a Democrat or a Republican is in the White House.

Why Are Republican Presidents So Bad For The Economy

G.D.P., jobs and other indicators have all risen faster under Democrats for nearly the past century.

By David Leonhardt

Graphics by Yaryna Serkez

Mr. Leonhardt is a senior writer at The Times. Ms. Serkez is a writer and graphics editor for Opinion.

Annual growth rate

Annual growth rate from highest to lowest

Annual growth rate from highest to lowest

jobs

G.D.P.

A president has only limited control over the economy. And yet there has been a stark pattern in the United States for nearly a century. The economy has grown significantly faster under Democratic presidents than Republican ones.

Its true about almost any major indicator: gross domestic product, employment, incomes, productivity, even stock prices. Its true if you examine only the precise period when a president is in office, or instead assume that a presidents policies affect the economy only after a lag and dont start his economic clock until months after he takes office. The gap holds almost regardless of how you define success, two economics professors at Princeton, Alan Blinder and Mark Watson, write. They describe it as startlingly large.

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Usreal Gdp Growth: Republican Vs Democratic Presidents

But then GDP growth is only one measure of economic progress. What about the equity markets? After all, Republicans have long championed the tax cut, which should help shareholders keep more of their dividends and capital gains and thus result in better stock market performance.

Here again the data does not support the conclusion. In fact, the outperformance of Democratic administrations relative to their Republican counterparts, in total returns and adjusted for inflation as with GDP, is even greater. Even if we exclude the last two crises, stock market performance under Democratic presidents is still miles ahead of Republican presidents. It isnt even close.

[idiopathicsmile]

so, last week i was thinking somebody should write a comic about a shy teen superhero whose powers are fueled directly by her own sense of embarrassment

then i, uh, wrote a ten-page script for it? and wound up kind of liking it a lot?

so consider yourself cordially invited to read issue #1 of my extremely indie superhero comic, and if you wish, you can illustrate it inside your mind, using the power of imagination!

(A teen girl sits on a swivel chair in her bedroom, facing the viewer. She’s got braces and glasses. Her hair is in a messy braid.)

PONNI: Hi! My name is Ponni Murthy. I’m sixteen, and um…

(We zoom out a little. She’s wearing a T-shit that says “The Moon ROCKS!” She’s holding a cane—covered in glow-in-the-dark star stickers—in one hand, and a stuffed animal cat—wearing a sloppily homemade astronaut costume—in the other. Posters cover the walls: fantasy movies, rocket ships, Ada Lovelace, Aamir Khan, Sally Ride, etc. She has multiple posters of the solar system. She gestures dramatically with her cane-hand)

PONNI: I LOVE OUTER SPACE!

(We return to her face. She looks very earnest.)

PONNI: That’s not, uh, directly relevant to the story, I just—I love it, so much.

(She has now taken on a pensive expression)

PONNI: I love a lot of stuff. But I used to feel a little weird about that.

(She is cheerful again)

PONNI: This is the story of how I got over (some of) my shyness, and rescued a gymnasium full of people, using dark powers I only kind of understand!

PONNI: We begin last year…

(Close-up on her stuffed cat, which is now holding a title card that reads): THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF PONNI MURTHY A.K.A. SHAME-FLAME THE UNCONQUERABLE)

(We are in a high school hallway. Ponni has one hand on her cane, the other hand on a wheelie backpack. She’s wearing a T-shirt with a stylized drawing of Mars on it and the words “Seein’ red.” Hand-drawn arrows and words identify her as “Ponni Murthy, Freshman” “Only South Asian girl in the entire school” “Plays bassoon in school orchestra (entry level)”, “Favorite Mars rover: changes daily”)

(A cute boy is waving. Arrows identify him as “Westley Bolt, senior” “Plays cello (first chair!)” “Those eyelashes! Hot dang” “Favorite movement from Holst’s The Planets Suite: ‘Venus: The Peace Bringer’ (sensitive!!!)”)

(Ponni waves back.)

WESTLEY: Uh, hey…Amanda.

(Ponni turns around. He was waving to Amanda, standing just behind her.) (Arrows identify Amanda as “Amanda Nolan, senior” “Flautist (second chair)” “Favorite space-adjacent detail: unknown” “Probably a really nice person”)

(Ponni watches them walk off together.)

(Close-up on Ponni’s face, which has gone sort of blank.) CAPTION: Engulfed by a white-hot, all-consuming embarrassment, like sinking into surface of the sun! A VOICE FROM “OFF-SCREEN”: Ponni?

CAPTION: Roiling shame-waves blast in all directions, too powerful to be contained in the body of a single American teen! Can it be that my sheer humiliation has gone…supernova? THE SAME VOICE: Ponni!

PONNI: What?

(We zoom out a little. Her friend Vanessa has joined her. Oh, and also…) VANESSA: Your arm’s on fire.

(Ponni looks down and sees this for the first time.) PONNI: OH CRIPES! OH CRIPES, OH CRIPES! VANESSA: HOW DID YOU NOT NOTICE?

(The fire grows) PONNI: (Terrified but also embarrassed) Can anybody see??? VANESSA: WHO CARES, YOU’RE ON FIRE. PONNI: I couldn’t feel it! 

PONNI: I still can’t, it’s just kind of warm and tingly.

(Close-up on Vanessa) VANESSA: You’re in shock. Stop, drop, and roll, kiddo c’mon. (Arrows identify her as “Vanessa Delbeau, freshman” “Acts cool but we watch a LOT of Star Trek together” “Favorite astronaut: Mae Jemison” “Threatens makeovers sometimes but so far so good”)

PONNI: I’m not in shock! Look, it’s not even burning my skin.

(Vanessa peers at Ponni’s arm. Sure enough, her skin is fine.) VANESSA: Whoa…what even…

(The fire has vanished.) (Ponni and Vanessa stare at each other)

(They stare at each other for another beat.)

VANESSA: … “Cripes?”

(Ponni’s arm starts to smolder again.) PONNI: If I wanna start babysitting, I need to set a good example!

(Vanessa shrugs. Ponni’s arm fire goes out.)

ANDY: Hey guys! (Arrows identify him as “Andy Shin, sophomore” “Black sheep of the wrestling team” “The only other Asian kid in my neighborhood (we high-five a lot)” “Favorite planet: Uranus (lol)” ANDY: You’re not gonna believe this but they let us out of gym five minutes early and--

VANESSA: Ponni can control fire with her mind.

PONNI (embarrassed): “Control” is, um, a strong word? (Ponni holds up her arm, which is smoldering again) ANDY: Dude! That’s awesome!

(Ponni’s arms are extinguished.) VANESSA: Shouldn’t you, like, go to a doctor? ANDY: You don’t go to the doctor for superpowers! You go to the nearest evildoers and show them your wrath, or whatever!

VANESSA: So just…keep our eyes peeled for all the secret volcano lairs of suburban Michigan? PONNI: I don’t really…have wrath… A VOICE FROM OFF-SCREEN: Stop! Please!

(Andy, Vanessa, and Ponni turn to the other side of the hallway. A boy labeled “Freshman? (not sure)” is addressing two upperclassmen labeled “Bully 1” and “Bully 2.” Bully 1 is holding something above his head.) FRESHMAN: I need to turn that in next period! BULLY 1: Well duh, maybe you shouldn’t have made it out of candy!

FRESHMAN: Don’t eat my homework, come on! BULLY 2 (Affecting a snotty voice, clear from his face he’s mocking Freshman) : Yeah, come on!

PONNI: Is that… VANESSA: A surprisingly good model of a 14th century castle, built out of Starbursts? I think so. I might need new glasses. PONNI: No.

(Closeup on Ponni’s face) PONNI: Evildoers.

PONNI (striding right up to the bullies): Hey! Quit bothering that guy and give him back his castle, he probably spent a lot of time on it! BULLY 1: Or what?

PONNI: Or you’ll regret it. (Ponni holds out her non-cane arm like it’s about to erupt into flames.)

(It does not erupt into flames. Nothing happens. There is a long beat.)

(Ponni still has her free arm out)

CAPTION: Was it all just a fevered imagining? It can’t be, Vanessa and Andy bore witness as well. Unless they, too, are mere shadows, empty projections of my shattered, lonely psyche…

BULLY 2 (to Ponni) : Hey, Unibrow! Out of the way, Tiny Tim!

(Close-up on Ponni. She is almost crying)

(New panel, also a close-up on Ponni) PONNI: WHY DOES YOUR SEXIST, RACIST, ABLEIST BULLCRAP STILL SOMEHOW GET TO HURT MY FEELINGS? IT’S NOT FUNNY OR CLEVER, IT’S JUST MEAN!

(A tear slides down Ponni’s face) PONNI: YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO MAKE ME SAD! IT’S SO HUMILIATING!

(Zoom out. Both of Ponni’s arms are producing fireballs. The bullies are cowering in place, eyes wide.) CAPTION: That’s what triggers this power! My own embarrassment! Whoa, weird.

NEW PANEL: A WHOLE LOT OF SCREAMING AND FLEEING LATER…

(Andy and Vanessa are helping Freshman(?) re-assemble all his stuff. Ponni is no longer on fire) ANDY: Here’s your castle back, Trevor. VANESSA: Nice work on those turrets. (Arrow identifies Freshman(?) as “Trevor! Apparently”) Trevor: Uh, thanks. (To Ponni) Are you…okay?

PONNI: I’m fine. Are you? FRESHMAN(?): Yeah. Uh, I’m Trevor, hi. What should I call you?

PONNI: How about…Shame-Flame the Unconquerable.

VANESSA (whispering): I think he meant your name. PONNI: Oh! Ponni! (She holds out her hand to shake. There’s a flame coming off her palm. Awkward.)

PONNI (putting her hand back down) : Uh, good luck with your castle project! TREVOR: Thanks. Good luck…fighting crime?

(Ponni and Andy give Vanessa huge matching grins) New panel: Later that day, after school… (Vanessa and Andy are waiting outside Ponni’s bathroom door.)

VANESSA: Are you ready yet? PONNI (from inside) : Almost! VANESSA: Never thought I’d get to help design a superhero costume. ANDY: I did. VANESSA: Really? ANDY: Aim high, y’know? VANESSA: Ponni, c’mon! PONNI (from inside): I can’t believe people are gonna see me like this.

(The door swings open to reveal Ponni’s superhero outfit. Labels explain: “my dorkiest bike helmet”, “elbow pads”, “knee pads”, “ancient fanny pack I found in my parents’ closet”, “a wolf T-shirt (with noticeable mustard stain)”, a tutu labeled “(not sure why I had this??)”, a hideous plastic necklace “my least favorite aunt gave me this for my 11th birthday” and “sneakers with black socks.”)

ANDY: If your theory about your power is right, this is like, basically a super suit. VANESSA: The fanny pack’s a nice touch. What’s in there? PONNI: (grimly) Naked baby photos. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.

VANESSA: Ready? PONNI: Let’s go save the world.

Caption: For a while, everything went exactly as planned… PONNI (approaching a guy mugging a woman) : Stop right there! MUGGER: What the…what’s this kid doing here?

(PONNI makes an embarrassed face)

(We see the scene in silhouette—Ponni’s hands producing fireballs, the mugger jumping straight up in terror)

(We cut to Ponni foiling a bank robbery) PONNI: Give back that money right now! MASKED ROBBER: Is that a bike helmet? I…are you serious?

(Everybody in the bank stares at Ponni, who looks down.)

(There’s a hint of flames in her eyes)

(The next panel is Ponni grinning, both masked robbers raising their hands in surrender. The wall behind them is singed like she was outlining them in fireballs.)

(Cut to a very fancy-looking office. A wealthy businessman is sitting at a desk, pen poised over some paperwork.)

PONNI (from under his desk): Put the pen down! Don’t you dare put together another predatory subprime mortgage! BUSINESSMAN: Security! Security! PONNI: What you’re doing is wrong and you know it!

(Businessman stares at her. She is still balled up under his desk.) BUSINESSMAN: Listen, kid, do you even know what a subprime mortgage is? Or did you hear one thing on the news, and now you think you’re an expert? PONNI: You’re hurting innocent people! BUSINESSMAN: How long have you been under there?

PONNI: Um.

PONNI: I don’t…um…listen, I’ve got what’s called Juvenille Arthritis? And I was having a really good day this morning, pain-wise, so I thought I’d be okay down here, but now everything hurts and my cane’s at a weird angle. (she winces) Uh, I know I broke into your office, but can you help me up?

(close up on Businessman) BUSINESSMAN: …you’ve got to be kidding m—is your hand starting to smoke?

(Cut to a newspaper headline: MORTGAGE CRISIS AVERTED. The accompanying photo is Ponni sitting in a comfortable chair, giving a big thumb’s up)

CAPTION: But then things began to get more complicated. (Ponni is facing off against a Mad Scientist.) PONNI: Disarm that giant laser, right now! MAD SCIENTIST: Why should I listen to a child in a tutu and gym shoes?

PONNI: Because I’m the best darn hero this town’s got! CAPTION: Wait, what?

CAPTION: I try to summon up that rising, burning tide of self-consciousness, but I’ve done so much in this ridiculous costume, wearing it just feels good. I have to find a new path back to that terrible feeling. PONNI (beginning to panic): Uh…I get super excited when my teacher assigns us science projects! MAD SCIENTIST: Who doesn’t? (Reaches towards the laser.)

PONNI: I cried the first time I watched Shrek! MAD SCIENTIST: …each to their own?

PONNI: Stop! Stop right now, in the name of my 90,000-word Labyrinth/Harry Potter crossover fic! MAD SCIENTIST: …huh?

PONNI: I mean, Jareth had to…learn magic somewhere, right? So why not Hogwarts? The heroine is this seventh-year Ravenclaw student, who, yeah, it’s just me except she’s like, super super gifted at magic and she’s got a baby penguin for a familiar! I wound up naming my pet guinea pig after that penguin! I’ve been writing it for three and a half years. It’s got over a hundred chapters, and all the chapter titles are song lyrics!

CAPTION: I wait for the icy judgment to surface in his face. It does. I wait for the burning shame to overtake me. It doesn’t. Maybe it’s a little silly, but back before my powers took hold, working on that story was one of the few times I felt in control. It was fun to create something purely for myself. And cripes, it’s not like I was trying to destroy the world with a laser or something. I actually feel almost…proud. Uh-oh.

MAD SCIENTIST: Any last words? PONNI: Listen, if you’re going to kill me, can you do it fast? My curfew’s in twenty minutes.

MAD SCIENTIST: …your curfew is seven? PONNI: Well yeah, on weeknights! MAD SCIENTIST: Seven? You have to be home before the bedtime of most first graders?

(Flames appear in Ponni’s eyes.)

(Cut to Ponni walking away from a terrified scientist and a melted laser.) CAPTION: Way too many close calls lately. And now I only have nineteen minutes to get home. Crap. CAPTION: Then, in the middle of a pep assembly, things get worse. (A gigantic crablike monster has burst through the wall of the gym.)

PONNI: Stand down, stranger! Shame-Flame the Unconquerable is here! MONSTER: Then let me just say, Shame-Flame…

(scary close-up of the crab monster’s face) MONSTER: I respect you as an equal. CAPTION: Yikes, word’s gotten around. My foes are getting cleverer.

PONNI: How can you respect someone with a 7 pm curfew! MONSTER: That doesn’t reflect on you; it just means your parents want you to be safe. PONNI: Oh yeah? Well, I’m totally excited to take Advanced Trig next year! MONSTER: You’re preparing yourself for a job in the lucrative STEM field. No shame in that. PONNI: No, I mean, I love math for math’s sake. I’ve written little jingles about all my favorite numbers!

MONSTER: Well, that’s convenient. (Scoops up a handful of band members in one claw.) I hear music is good for the digestion.

PONNI: C’mon! Other than Vanessa and Andy, I’ve got no friends my age! Half the reason I don’t wear makeup is I don’t know how to do it right! Ever since Toy Story I talk to my stuffed animals, just in case! Doesn’t anyone want to laugh at me?

(Ponni looks around. Everyone is just panicking.) CAPTION: Cripes cripes cripes!

PONNI: Gosh, I said I’d defeat you and I can’t even summon the fire to light a birthday candle. Now that’s humiliating, right? MONSTER (pauses with that clawful of band members inches away from its terrible mouth): Not really, Shame-Flame. 

MONSTER: It’s just sad.

CAPTION: Well, that’s it. No other way.

PONNI: (cupping her hands to her mouth) Westley Bolt! Hey, Westley! (Westley is sitting four rows down. He turns around.)

PONNI: I’ve had a crush on you since sixth grade! WESTLEY: I know. I was just hoping you wouldn’t bring it up. I don’t like you back. You’re weird. Obviously.

PONNI (smiles, badass) : Oh, I know.

PONNI (turning back towards the monster) And I’ve gotta say, now that everybody knows how long I was hung up on somebody so wrong for me, it’s a little…oh shoot, what’s the word I’m looking for, here?

(The next panel is just flames)

(Then the smoke clears, Ponni’s fire is gone and the monster has fled, having dropped those band kids safely on the ground. It turns out that Trevor was also among them.)

TREVOR: That was incredible! Ponni, you saved our lives! You’re my hero!

(A tiny flame of embarrassment shoots out of Ponni’s hand.) PONNI: Oh, um. You’re welcome?  Anytime, sir. VANESSA (seeing the fire) : Ponni, your— PONNI: I KNOW.

(EPILOGUE: Ponni is back to present day, sitting on her desk chair in her room.) PONNI: Nobody was seriously hurt. Not even the crab monster, I don’t think. It took the rest of the school year to repair the gym. Andy got to switch out his PE class with an elective. He took astronomy, thinking it would be a blowoff class, but the teacher wasn’t very good so I got to explain a bunch of stuff to him! Me and Trevor dated for a few months, but he got super clingy when I left for math camp, so we broke up. C’est la vie. Oh, also I went to math camp! It was super daunting at first, and I got nervous and made mistakes. Luckily, my threshold for embarrassment is sky-high at this point, so y’know, I bounced back and enjoyed the heck out of it.

PONNI: Of course, not sure what that means for the next time some sinister force threatens our town. What happens when Shame-Flame gets…shame-proof?

A VOICE FROM OFF PANEL: No way! I found it! ANOTHER VOICE: Found what?

(Ponni looks over at Andy and Vanessa, who have been on the floor, going through a box of Ponni’s old things.) ANDY: Right here! The video of that anti-drug puppet show she did in fifth grade! PONNI: It wasn’t…for a class or anything, I was just really mega- against drugs. ANDY: Am I right in thinking it was a rock opera? PONNI: Uh… VANESSA: Ponni, what are the odds you still remember all the lyrics? CAPTION: Just kidding. That cringey feeling comes for all of us, sooner or later.

(Ponni, Andy, and Vanessa are roasting marshmallows on forks, using Ponni’s burning hand as heat.) VANESSA: Come on, one verse! PONNI: Next crab monster, Vanessa. Next crab monster. CAPTION: I guess it’s just a question of what you do with that feeling.

(Close-up of Ponni’s stuffed cat from the very beginning. It’s holding a card that says “THE END.”)

[visionmpbpl-blog]

New Post has been published on http://www.visionmp.com/the-last-indian-to-win-an-individual-medal-at-the-asian-games-was-legendary-syed-modi-who-won-a-mens-singles-bronze-in-1982/

Asian Games 2018: Saina-Sindhu final looms after historic Asiad wins

Jakarta: Olympic medallists PV Sindhu and Saina Nehwal on Sunday headed for a gold medal showdown at the 18th Asian Games after their quarterfinal victories ensured India’s first ever women’s singles medals at the Continental event.

First it was London bronze medallist Saina, who ended a 36-year-old wait for an individual medal after locking at least a bronze following a 21-18 21-16 win over world number five Ratchanok Intanon in a 42-minute quarterfinal.

Rio silver medallist Sindhu then fought past world number 12 Nitchaon Jindapol 21-11 16-21 21-14 in the other quarterfinal.

The last Indian to win an individual medal at the Asian Games was legendary Syed Modi, who won a men’s singles bronze, way back in 1982 at New Delhi.

India has won eight badminton medals at the Asian Games and six of them are in team events and one in men’s doubles.

In the semifinals, Saina faces world no 1 and top seed Tai Tzu Ying of Chinese Taipei, while Sindhu will take on either China’s Chen Yufei or world no 2 Akane Yamaguchi of Japan.

Commenting on the historic medals assured, Sindhu said she is hungry for more.

“It’s great (that medals are assured) moment but it’s not over yet. It should be the best and not just a medal. May be a gold that’s how I feel,” said world no 3 Sindhu.

On an all-Indian final looming, Sindhu said, “It will be very good for Indian badminton, two players in the final, hopefully, it will happen.”

Interestingly, Saina and Sindhu had clashed at the finals of the Commonwealth Games at Gold Coast in April with the former emerging victories.

Talking about the second-game lapse, Sindhu said she was nervous and made easy errors.

“I felt I could have finished it in two sets but I made easy errors and then I got nervous, my stroke were not coming in the second game. Due to my mistakes, I gave her the second set. I should not think that if first game is easy, second will also be easy,” she said.

While Sindhu ran away with the first game, Jindapol made it little tough for the Indian in the second game and thrice held the lead.

Trailing 13-16, Sindhu found winners on either side of the court to make it even but Jindapol again created a four-point lead with very calculated smash shots and won the game easily to roar back into the contest.

In the decider, Sindhu trailed 4-7 with Jindapol spraying winners but the Indian won seven points in a row to give herself a four-point cushion. There was no change in script after that as Sindhu ran away with the match.

Earlier, Saina fell behind 3-8 at the beginning but found a way to beat the Thai player, whom she had beaten at the recent World Championship in Nanjing and also at the Indonesian Master at the same venue.

Saina said she was not aware who won the last individual medal.

“We were actually discussing that. We did not know. Gopi sir said keep the phone away,” said the world no 10 Indian.

She came into this match with a superior record with four wins in the last five meetings against the Thai.

“She was playing strong and I knew she will challenge me today. I was taking her seriously, she had beaten Sung Ji Hyun in the previous match and first time I saw her playing well against a rally player,” Saina said.

Talking about her tactics after falling behind in the opening game, Saina said, “”I was not moving that well initially but after 12-3 I opened up and I started picking up those tough shots.

“Then one-two rallies happened and there I saw her getting tired but she was very tough. She was playing attacking.”

Saina said the deafening cheers of the crowd also made it challenging for her.

“She had the lead, I had the good record against her, crowd was shouting (for Indonesian player on adjacent court), so many things were playing in my mind. You could not hear the shuttle (due to noise), you have to be alert.”

The London Olympics bronze medallist Indian will next take on Tai Tzu Ying, who knocked out 2017 World Champion Nozomi Okuhara of Japan 21-15 21-10 in another quarterfinal.

World number three PV Sindhu will also take on a Thai player in the last-eight as she is up against world number 12 Jindapol Nitchaon.

Though Saina looked in good nick and rhythm, unforced errors pegged her back 1-5 and 3-8 at one stage.

With handy lead in pocket, Ratchanok tried to be deceptive with service but lost points. However, Saina again netted the shuttle to trail 3-9.

The Indian had no option but to play aggressive and that too resulted in unforced errors, taking the first break trailing 3-11.

Ratchanok used the drop shots quite effectively on Saina’s backhand side. As Saina had to stretch to reach to the shuttle, Rathanok found easy winners on her weak returns.

Saina, though found the way to make a comeback and negated the strategy by hitting deep and angled returns, reducing the deficit to 15-17.

Ratchanok netted a return at 18-all and for the first time Saina led in the opening game.

The Thai hit a backhand return over the line to give Saina her first game point, which she converted when Ratchanok left a shuttle and it fell inside the line.

Saina was all fired up in the second game and always had lead in hand. Though the Thai hit a few winners on the backhand side of Saina, the Indian had control over the game.

She led 16-12 and closed the match in her favour when Ratchanok hit a backhand wide and Saina found a winner on the next point.

[olwog]

So Peeps, we learn about the beauty of the Esk Valley Railway Line, Robert Louis Stevenson’s poem, “From a Railway Carriage” and the value of friends on a day out.

I get a text from George, “Dave’s had an operation on his eye and not feeling top form so we’re having a day in Whitby”

The plan is to drive to Great Ayton and catch the train that shuttles the Esk Valley line between Middlesbrough and Whitby. I’ve wanted to do this for some considerable time but never got around to it so how could I refuse?

I arrive in good time for the 10:54 train that’ll get us into Whitby at just before Noon which means we’ll be stampeding to Trenchers for fish and chips before the clock strikes the quarter hour.

This what the Sunday Times had to say:

“Away from the packed commuter routes and main intercities, the backwaters of our national rail network harbour some of the most beautiful rides in the world.  Leaving Teesside, the train chugs out across the North York Moors … along the leafy valley through Danby, Egton and Lealholm – surely the prettiest village in Yorkshire – to Whitby’s bracing sea air, fine Georgiana and looming Gothic church. This is England’s green and pleasant land, writ large over 36miles … it will make you sigh” ***

The train is running a little late but nor enough to complain and there are quite a few people on the little platform. They’re all in good spirit and joking with each other. Bri gets the life story of one of them complete with numerous anecdotes, there’s a lot laughing and they’ve only just met, no computer gloom here.

There’s a little bit of grey cloud and after the last few days of full on heat, it’s both disappointing to lose the sun and blue skies but it’s also something of a relief to have lost the energy-sapping humidity.

As the doors open the guard invites us on board with a smile and we make our way to the front coach that will become the back coach on leaving Battersby Junction which is about ten minutes away.

Here’s a good tip if you don’t want to travel backwards for the majority of the trip, choose a rear facing seat for this first sector as the train will enter Battersby Junction with what is now the front. At Battersby the driver will walk the length of the train along the platform and assume control from what was the back but is now the new front and here’s the bonus, you’re now travelling forward without changing seats.

This is the prettiest of dales and as we resume our trip there are gaps in lines that produce the rhythm of our childhood as the bogies hit the gaps ‘de de – de de’ slight pause ‘de de – de de’ it reminds me of a poem taught to us by the headmaster Mr. Oliver at the Applegarth School of my infant and junior years.

From a Railway Carriage by Robert Louis Stevenson

***

Faster than fairies, faster than witches Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches And charging along like troops in a battle All through the hedges, the horses and cattle

***

We’re picking up speed and the rhythm increases as I think of Mr Oliver and his insistence that whilst this poem had rhyme, it didn’t have to if it had rhythm and this had both.

The fields are defined with hedges and streams on both sides of the train and are verdant.  The sky is beginning to show the odd patch of blue as the blanket of grey melts with the strength of the summer sun. There are brown sheep in a field, not jurist one or two in a flock but a whole field of them, I make a mental note to try to find out if this a recognised breed (your help would be appreciated if you’re aware of them).

I’m beginning to match the poem to what I’m witnessing as the train approaches Danby:

***

All of the sights of the hill and the plain Fly as thick as driving rain And ever again, in the wink of an eye Painted stations whistle by

***

Danby doesn’t whistle by though as the driver gently brings us to a standstill and more passengers embark. The carriages are quite full but there are still seats so everyone is comfortable and clearly eager to appreciate the fabulous countryside on both sides of the track.

We’\re off again and passing old saddleback bridges built with stone and very definitely unaffordable if we were to build them today but beautiful in their antiquity and set against glorious fast running streams with oak, mountain ash and  the odd willow binding their banks with their roots.

Lealholme is beautiful on side with well kept buildings newly painted and beautiful; on the other side where the platform is equally beautiful because it is overgrown with meadow plants and the odd bramble cane. There’s Glaisdale then there’s Egton, I’m instantly reminded that my dad worked here for a while with he North Riding County Council and I’m thinking that this delightfully kept station with its buildings and platform would be what he saw sixty or seventy years ago and I’m tearful with nostalgia but happy that his day might have been sunny and carefree like mine today with good friends and equally tranquil and beautiful.

There’s a lady steps off the train with a small child and I envy them where they live. A rambler gazes across the dale at where she’s going to walk and it reminds me of some of our great walks one of which was around the Gothland/Gromont (Heartbeat) area.

***

Here’s a child who clambers and scrambles All by himself gathering brambles Here is a tramp who stands and gazes And there is the green for stringing the daisies

***

Off we go again and it gets better, the line runs in bursts parallel to the stream that gives its name to the dale. The River Esk meanders, cascades and sometimes gently strolls along the dale as the track takes a similarly meandering approach but without any ups or downs, or if there are they’re very gentle. It offers us some wonderful glimpses of wooden plank type bridges built possibly as temporary structures to facilitate access to fields and barns across the stream, who knows? But they do their job together with the water-splash routes parallel to them presumably do their bit for the animals.

***

Here is a cart runaway in the road Lumping along with man and load; And here is a mill, and there is a river: Each a glimpse and gone forever!

***

We stop at Glaisdale and another group of ramblers disembark, just three this time and I’m wondering where they’re going to, it would have been fascinating to have had a conversation with them but too late, I’ve learned for next time.

If you travel this route look out for the iron bridges and the saddlebacks, they’er a delight and illustrate an earlier time. Then look out for the fabulous arched disused railway now referred to as the cinder track as you enter Whitby. It’s as fascinating at the bottom of the columns as it is at the top, at the risk of an enigma I’ll leave it there.

And now we’re in Whitby, where’s Trenchers?

We arrive at Trenchers and join a bit of a queue. There are tables available but are reserved. After some 20 minutes we’re invited to move into the restaurant but not to a seat. We’re still in good spirit although I must say that seeing two large tables free and us still standing was slightly irritating. After another ten minutes we’re invited to take a seat at one of the tables that has been free since we queued at the door and we take them with a mixture of irritation and gratitude. We’re left for another 15 minutes before we’re asked for our order and the arrival of the food a good ten minutes after that. At sixteen and a half quid for fish, chips, beans, slice of bread and pot of tea I expect service rather better than this, it’s an hour since we arrived at the door.

However, the food quality is good, the facilities exceptional and the staff always friendly although on this occasion the service was poor. We’re not letting this hamper our day though and there’s lots of talk to fill the gaps. One anecdote which I’ll not go into in detail involved one of our part-time members and revoked permission to attend due to the venue that we’re currently within.

Moving on – there’s a group of four settling into the booth adjacent and we recognise two of them, it’s Granny and Granddad (to be) Graydon. Greetings are traded at some considerable volume and congratulations expressed for the forthcoming addition to the dynasty. It’s a wonderful coincidence and a delight to see them following the 9 day Cleveland Way recently experienced with Lou.

We’re off again and this time towards the harbour when without warning one of us suggests a 20 minute cruise to the Whitby Buoy and back. We have an 84% positive which leaves one who’s a little uncomfortable. I know what seasickness feels like so suggest that we do the cruise and he goes to the Whitby Porn Shop (I’m not too sure if there is one but I thought it might take his mind of our sailing experience if he had something for which he could search). He obviously sees through my subterfuge and agrees to join us. Now you might say, “twenty minutes, that’s nothing”, in fact there are many women who may agree; however, I do appreciate that with the threat of seasickness, it is quite a significant gesture to make the effort to come with us and in a fit of generosity I offer to buy him an ice cream.

The first 5 minutes is wonderfully smooth but then it would be, it’s in the harbour, the next ten minutes is a bit up and down but he sustains the ordeal with fortitude and before we know it we’re back in the harbour with a disk full of photographs and a full complement of chums with no sickness – result!

We disembark and walk towards the breakwaters with the intention of buying an ice-cream as reward for the bravery related to the cruise and Pete accurately finds the place that might be where he bought one once before. i go for the lemon sorbet but the majority have the Mr. Whippey one that’s served with beautiful swirls like an elaborate dog turd into sugary cone. We manage to avoid sharing them with the seagulls who’re circling like vultures above.

At the breakwater, there are numerous tractors lined up with varying objectives. One is Liverpool to Whitby and back for the Air Ambulance Charity but the one that I really fancy and will be running it past the Pilgrim is Liverpool to Benidorm and back on Massey Ferguson 185. I told the owner that I used to work on them and he allowed me onto it for photographs by our resident professional who duly complied.

It’s a delight to see so many people on the beach in the sunshine although the North Sea has never attracted me for swimming apart from when I was diving but then I’d be wearing a full dry suit with a woolly bear next to my skin. OK so I’m spineless but I’m also comfortable and not suffered from exposure.

It’s short walk but a good one and we return with the added pleasure of seeing the bridge open and a few boats pass through. Back at the station, we go to the platform early to try to beat the school kids to the seats on the return train – and we did!

This day out is an absolute delight. £5.70 return with a Senior Railcard and a bit more if you’re younger or without one. It’s also doable if you’re disabled.

Enjoy the snaps…G..x

Please feel free to share.

  Acknowledgements: Sunday Times for the extract on the Esk Valley Line and Robert Louis Stevenson for his poem  “From a Railway Carriage”

Usual rules, written consent is required for commercial use of photographs, text and ideas.

Robert Lois Stevenson’s From a Railway Carriage in full:-

Faster than fairies, faster than witches, Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches; And charging along like troops in a battle, All through the meadows the horses and cattle: All of the sights of the hill and the plain Fly as thick as driving rain; And ever again, in the wink of an eye, Painted stations whistle by.

Here is a child who clambers and scrambles, All by himself and gathering brambles; Here is a tramp who stands and gazes; And there is the green for stringing the daisies! Here is a cart run away in the road Lumping along with man and load; And here is a mill and there is a river: Each a glimpse and gone for ever!

Esk Valley Railway Line and Whitby So Peeps, we learn about the beauty of the Esk Valley Railway Line, Robert Louis Stevenson’s poem, “From a Railway Carriage” and the value of friends on a day out.

[patriotsnet]

What Are Differences Between Democrats And Republicans

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/what-are-differences-between-democrats-and-republicans/

What Are Differences Between Democrats And Republicans

History Of The Democratic Party

Democrats Vs Republicans | What is the difference between Democrats and Republicans?

The party can trace its roots all the way back to Thomas Jefferson when they were known as Jeffersons Republicans and they strongly opposed the Federalist Party and their nationalist views. The Democrats adopted the donkey as their symbol due to Andrew Jackson who was publicly nicknamed jackass because of his popular position of let the people rule. The Democratic National Committee was officially created in 1848. During the civil war a rift grew within the party between those who supported slavery and those who opposed it. This deep division led to the creation of a new Democratic party, the one we now know today.

Metro At Brady Luxury Downtown Tulsa Ok Apartments

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Our location is in close proximity to the best that Downtown Tulsa has to offer. From the restaurants, bars, live music venues, and art galleries of the Tulsa Arts District to ONEOK Field, the BOK Center, Tulsa Performing Arts Center, Guthrie Green, or Oklahoma Jazz Hall of Fame, there is no shortage of neighborhood fun surrounding our luxury apartments in Tulsa, OK!

The five-story brick building was designed with the convenience of our Tulsa residents in mind. There are beautifully maintained interior corridors and two elevators for ease of access. There is also readily available access to the two-story parking garage with limited access gates. The large and open clubhouse features complimentary Wi-Fi access and a state-of-the-art exercise facility that’s open 24-hours a day. In the heart of our Downtown Tulsa community, our Metro at Brady residents can indulge in our swimming pool with tanning ledges, seating areas with a fire pit, water features, and an outdoor kitchen with grill.

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The Philosophy Behind Democratic Economic Policy

Democrats gear their economic policies to benefit low-income and middle-income families. They argue that reducing income inequality is the best way to foster economic growth. Low-income families are more likely to spend any extra money on necessities instead of saving or investing it. That directly increases demand and spurs economic growth. Democrats also support a Keynesian economic theory, which says that the government should spend its way out of a recession.

One dollar spent on increased food stamp benefits generates $1.73 in economic output.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt first outlined the Economic Bill of Rights in his 1944 State of the Union address. It included taxes on war profiteering and price controls on food costs. President Harry Trumans 1949 Fair Deal proposed an increase in the minimum wage, civil rights legislation, and national health care. President Barack Obama expanded Medicaid with the 2010 Affordable Care Act.

Recommended Reading: Why Do Republicans Like Donald Trump

Why Does Madison Always Cough In Hamilton

The coughing, handkerchiefs, and even some of the lyrics in Hamiltons songs are all in reference to James Madisons real life health issues. Madison would continue to suffer from illnesses throughout his years including more attacks of malaria but he lived a rather full and long life considering.

Living At Huntington Hollow

WELCOME! Huntington Hollow offers something for everyone! You’ll appreciate our traditionally designed apartment homes, quiet country landscaped courtyards and beautiful clubhouse. Easy access to Highway 169, I-44, and the Broken Arrow Expressway. You’ll be within minutes of shopping, entertainment and grocery. Discover classic living on a grand scale.

Also Check: How Many Registered Republicans In The Us

Explain Democrat Vs Republican With Examples

The best way to explain complex topics like the difference between republican and democrat is to use examples they would understand. Heres an example you can use to explain one difference between the two.

Lets say that there are 10 kids who all chip in to buy a large pizza. The restaurant provides only three flavors pepperoni, 4-cheese, and Hawaiian . Their group can only afford to buy one pizza, but not everyone wants the same flavor.

The government is a lot like this. For the government to work, everyone gives the government money . It is the governments job to decide how that money will be spent so that most of the people will be happy with the results. However, many people have different ways that they think the government should spend the money, which is why there are different types of governments like democratic and republican.

Going back to the pizza example, a democratic group would handle the situation differently from a republican group. If the group were democrates, they will choose the pizza flavor that most people want. So, if 4 kids want pepperoni, 3 kids want 4-cheese, and 3 want Hawaiian, then the group will go with the flavor with the most votes. It doesnt matter that the kid who chipped in the most money wants a 4-cheese or Hawaiian because they were outvoted.

How Does Independent Differ From Republican And Democrat

If you are a true independent in politics, you do not vote forthe party, you vote for the individual that comes closest to yourideas and beliefs. On the average, the Democrats are consideredmore liberal and the Republicans are considered more conservative.However, there are liberal Republicans and conservative Democrats.The Republicans tend to favor less government and the Democratstend to favor more government, when dealing with domestic problemsand individual and states’ rights. Republicans tend to favoreconomic laws that regulate as little as possible. Democrats favorlegislation that regulates industry for the protection of theconsumer. Democrats tend to favor some sort of government aid forthose individuals who need assistance. Republicans tend to favorwas to help the states and local, private charities helpindividuals in need. Libertarians believe in a strong support ofindividual civil liberties, private property and the free marketeconomy with little government intervention. They favor the leastamount of government interference. They believe the individualshould be left alone to do as he/she wishes, as long as there is noharm to any other person or group.

Recommended Reading: What Percentage Of Republicans Are White

The Party Thats Actually Best For The Economy

Many analyses look at which party is best for the economy. A study from the National Bureau of Economic Research found that Democratic presidents since World War II have performed much better than Republicans. On average, Democratic presidents grew the economy 4.4% each year versus 2.5% for Republicans.

A study by Princeton University economists Alan Blinder and Mark Watson found that the economy performs better when the president is a Democrat. They report that by many measures, the performance gap is startlingly large. Between Truman and Obama, growth was 1.8% higher under Democrats than Republicans.

A Hudson Institute study found that the six years with the best growth were evenly split between Republican and Democrat presidents.

Most of these evaluations measure growth during the presidents term in office. But no president has control over the growth added during his first year. The budget for that fiscal year was already set by the previous president, so you should compare the gross domestic product at the end of the presidents last budget to the end of his predecessors last budget.

For Obama, that would be the fiscal year from October 1, 2009, to September 30, 2018. Thats FY 2010 through FY 2017. During that time, GDP increased from $15.6 trillion to $17.7 trillion, or by 14%. Thats 1.7% a year.

The chart below ranks the presidents since 1929 on the average annual increase in GDP.

President

1.4%

A president would have better growth if he had no recession.

Main Difference Between Democrats And Republicans In Point Form

2021 Democrats VS Republicans- Round 2 | What is the difference between Democrats and Republicans?

Democratic Party was founded in 1828 while the Republican Party in 1854

The Democratic Party has about 15 presidents while the Republican Party has about 19 presidents since independence

Republican Party voters are older generation while Democratic Party voters are the younger generation

The voters of Republicans are conservatives while democrats are liberal

The main color of republicans is red while that of democrats is blue

The party symbol of democrats is a donkey whereas that of republicans is an elephant

The Democrats party was founded on the basis of anti-federalism whereas republican party on the basis of anti-slavery and agent of modernity

The Democrats party has a larger membership subscription whereas republican has a lower membership subscription

Democrats applaud same-sex marriage whereas republicans condemn same-sex marriage

Democrats want the elderly medical program to be allowed while republicans reject suggestions of elderly medical care program

Read Also: Do The Republicans Want To Cut Social Security

Elza: Difference Between Democrats Republicans

Dr. Jane Elza

When I was teaching, my students always complained that there were no differences between Democrats and Republicans.;

They said the candidates were just the same old white guys talking about the same old issues. There was no zing in the campaigns, no excitement. The positions of the candidates were always centered around the middle and that was boring. They overlooked one fundamental difference between the two parties.

Governments regulate the behavior of people. Thats what they do. They regulate the health and safety of the community by licensing, inspecting, citations, setting standards.;

The entire food chain from field to restaurant to store is regulated to ensure that the food is fresh and edible. The workplace is regulated so that workers dont suffer from health hazards and unsafe working conditions.;

I dont have to remind you of the various traffic laws that we obey without thinking every day. Governments regulate the behavior of people. The key question is how do they regulate that behavior.

If governments force you to obey laws you had no voice in making or what voice you have is ignored, thats a tyranny.;

If governments laws reflect your position, even if it doesnt embrace all of your positions, thats a democracy.;

In a democracy, the enforcement of those laws should be even handed, not favoring or punishing people based on governmental biases. Here is where we have the key difference between the two political parties in America.

Who Is A Democrat

A Democrat is someone who believes in the principles of a republic, thus, in the power of the majority. Unlike a Republican, who is conservative in his ideas, a Democrat is liberal in his ideas. A Democrat accepts the concept of a larger federal government People of all classes should be benefited by the various schemes of the government according to a Democrat. They should not be concerned more about individual interests. This means that a Democrat looks upon all classes of people as equal.

In short it can be said that a Republican believes that the people are adept at looking after themselves. A Democrat on the contrary firmly believes that the federal government alone is capable of bringing about equality.

Figure 02: Andrew Jackson, the First Democratic President of the United States

Furthermore, a Democrat supports government-sponsored programs. A Democrat is pro-choice in approach, As a result, a Democrat supports social policies at federal government level It is interesting to note that unlike the Republicans, Democrats support the view that the military budget should be decreased. These are the main differences between a Republican and a Democrat. Now let us summarize the difference as follows.

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The Concept Of A Democracy

Coming from the Greek words for people and rule , democracy means rule by the people. As such, a democracy requires that the people be allowed to take part in the government and its political processes. U.S. President Abraham Lincoln may have offered the best definition of democracy as being a government of the people, by the people, for the people in his Gettysburg Address on November 19, 1863.;

Typically through a constitution, democracies limit the powers of their top rulers, such as the President of the United States, set up a system of and responsibilities between branches of the government, and protect the natural rights and civil liberties of the people. ;

In a pure democracy, all citizens who are eligible to vote take an equal part in the process of making laws that govern them. In a pure or direct democracy,” the citizens as a whole have the power to make all laws directly at the ballot box. Today, some U.S. states empower their citizens to make state laws through a form of direct democracy known as the ballot initiative. Put simply, in a pure democracy, the majority truly does rule and the minority has little or no power.

The concept of democracy can be traced back to around 500 BCE in Athens, Greece. Athenian democracy was a true direct democracy, or mobocracy, under which the public voted on every law, with the majority having almost total control over rights and freedoms.

Similarities Of Democrats With Republicans:

We already discussed the difference between the democratic and republican parties. Now similarities between democrats and republicans party demands. Identifying the similarities between democrats and republicans is not an easy task. However, there are some important similarities between democrats and republicans for a clearer understanding of you. Let us discuss the similarities. Such as:-

First, the Democrats parties want the USA to be a strong country in world concerns. Similarly, Republicans seem like.

Both political parties want peace to be existent throughout the world.

They want the United States to have good relations with other countries, but unconditionally.

Certainly, both parties want our economy to grow and be strong.

Both parties express love for our country and want to see the country and its people prosper.

There is in the concept of similarities between democrats and republicans.

Finally, they want to create a good relation to the USA with other countries, but unconditionally

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If A Party Gets What It Wants In The Pursuit Of Delivering Something Most People Want Most Of The Time So Be It

There’s nothing morally wrong with being the party of corporate interests. There’s nothing wrong, for that matter, with viewing politics as the preserve of the few, not the many. What’s wrong is lying about it. What’s wrong is treating the opposition as if it does not have a legitimate claim. What’s wrong is setting off a conflagration of white-power fury that consumes nearly everything, even the republic itself, in order to slake a thirst for power. The day Joe Biden decided to run for president was the day this white-power fury burned through Charlottesville, screaming, “Jews will not replace us.” That day, according to published reports, is the day Biden chose to fight to “restore the soul of America.”

Maybe he’s full of it. Maybe Biden and the Democrats don’t really believe what they say when they talk about everyone being in this together. That’s certainly what the Republicans and their media allies believe. A critic said Thursday that we can expect to see from Biden “lofty rhetoric about unity, while acting below the radar to smash norms to implement the Left-wing agenda.” The same day, a Times reporter asked the White House press secretary why the administration has not offered a bipartisan “fig leaf” to the Republicans, given the president putting so much emphasis on unity. Maybe the Democrats don’t mean what they say. Maybe it’s just politics-as-usual.

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This art, the Chicano Murals created as part of el Movimiento in San Diego, California was intended primarily as a didactic communication medium to reach into the barrios and marginalized neighborhoods for the primary purpose of carrying a resistance message to the semiliterate mestizo population within.

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Key Takeaways: Republic Vs Democracy

What Are The Differences Between The Republican And Democratic Parties: sciBRIGHT Politics

Republics and democracies both provide a political system in which citizens are represented by elected officials who are sworn to protect their interests.

In a pure democracy, laws are made directly by the voting majority leaving the rights of the minority largely unprotected.

In a republic, laws are made by representatives chosen by the people and must comply with a constitution that specifically protects the rights of the minority from the will of the majority.

The United States, while basically a republic, is best described as a representative democracy.;;

In a republic, an official set of fundamental laws, like the U.S. Constitution and Bill of Rights, prohibits the government from limiting or taking away certain inalienable rights of the people, even if that government was freely chosen by a majority of the people. In a pure democracy, the voting majority has almost limitless power over the minority.;

The United States, like most modern nations, is neither a pure republic nor a pure democracy. Instead, it is;a hybrid democratic republic.

The main difference between a democracy and a republic is the extent to which the people control the process of making laws under each form of government.

Founding Father James Madison may have best described the difference between a democracy and a republic:

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