#i wish they could go to a local pharmacy and have all of their bills paid for while they pick up a neat little prescription

[theskeletoninthegarden]

Broke: Goodneighbor is a hive of villainy and scum, fueled by the sickest desires of the wastes and a major output of the extreme influence of chems on the Commonwealth.

Bespoke: Goodneighbor is populated heavily by drifters, a majority of, if not all of which likely suffer daily from chronic pain, and mental strife as a result of lives, both long lived as Ghouls, and short as peoples born into a world that relies on the doctrine "kill or be killed" to get by. Self medication may be one of the few ways they manage these pains, and vilifying the use of these drugs, both used for recreation and to help them live rather then to simply survive, is incredibly ableist.

[thelibrarylesstrektraveled]

Breathe Free (Part One)

Summary: You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, thank you very much! Dean knew that, he also knew better. He’d seen you sick plenty of times in the past five years, but this was different. This was much more than a cold, but you were so stubborn about doctors! Dean Winchester isn’t about to let you slip away, even if it means going against your wishes. He only hopes he’s not too late!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Dean x Reader, Dean x You

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Sick!Reader, Hospitals, Kissing, fluff

Word Count: 5447

One Shot - Two Parts

Author’s Notes: I have been sick with Covid for a month. Well… down sick for 2 ½ weeks and recovering my stamina for 2 more. Its been a real bitch. Plus my disabled mother has it now. This is following a nervous breakdown I had in June. Writing has been my passion and my mental health balm, but I’ve not been able to produce anything in months. So this… this is a fucking triumph!! I’m still working on all my other WIP, so please stick around. I’ll get there… eventually :) I’m hoping to finish part two shortly and post in a week… ish.

Thank you all for the continued support! Masterlist Breathe Free (Part Two)

You were going to kill him.  Honestly.  If this fucking cold didn’t finish you off, you were going to make it your life’s mission to succeed where every bloody monster, demi-god, angel, demon, and creator of all had failed.  Ridding the world of Dean Winchester would be a public service at this point.  The church would canonize you for this!  There would be bank holidays and parades in your honor.  Maybe an annual postage stamp?  A drink named after you at the local bar, at the least. 

     Of course, you’d have to live long enough to carry out your plan for fame and fortune.  As it was, your odds were 50/50.  Congestion, muscle aches, dizziness, sore throat, non-existent appetite and low-grade fever.  How is it that each of these symptoms alone were minor?  Almost unnoticeable.  You could easily carry out any task battling them one on one.  Yet together they took you down hard.  It was unfair and utterly ridiculous!  Not to mention hugely inconvenient. 

     It was probably that sneezing sheriff from that last case.  You had to introduce him of the concept of personal space more than once.  The douchebag said it was just allergies.  Contagious creep!

     Still, you were home now.  Back at the bunker with three bags worth of pharmacy remedies to ease your pain until the virus ran it’s course.  All you had to do was make it to your room and you could drown yourself in cough syrup and peppermint oil.  Unfortunately, Dean was not making it easy.

     “You sound like shit, Y/N.”

     “Well, I feel like shit, so that tracks.”

     You coughed harshly into the crook of your elbow as you trudged down the metal stairs behind Dean.  Sam followed behind you, carrying your bags and his.  Gentleman that he was.  Levelheaded and sensible, God must have given Dean’s portion of those admirable qualities to his brother. 

     “That cough is getting worse,” Dean said, tossing his duffle down on the war room table. 

     “That’s because you won’t shut up.”

     “What does that have to do with it?”

     “Because you keep baiting me into conversation with all of your pushy opinions.  If you didn’t make me talk so much, I wouldn’t be coughing so much!”  You broke off into a hacking fit that proved your point in your mind.  This was entirely his fault!

     “That’s ridiculous.  You’ve been talking non-stop since we met you five years ago and you never coughed up a lung because of it.”  Dean shook his head and looked to his brother, “Sam, help me out here.”

     Sam usually occupied neutral territory during these debates, but one look at you and he sided with Dean.  “Why don’t we go get you checked out, Y/N?”

     “I got checked out in Billings, they said it wasn’t Covid.  It’s probably just a run of the mill virus.”

     “That guy was like twelve,” Dean scoffed.  “I’m surprised he knew what to do with swab.”

��    “He was a doctor, Dean!”

     “Debatable.”

     “There’s no harm in a second opinion,” Sam pointed out. 

     You were so tired you just wanted to cry.  Why were they being so hard-headed about this?  Typical!  Men always think they know everything.  It was all so simple for them, they never had to jump through the hoops that you did when getting care.  It was always the same when you went to the doctor, which is why you never went.  Doctors who dismiss your symptoms and bill you for the privilege.  If you were up to your usual fiery disposition, you’d launch into a lengthy explanation, but you just didn’t have it in you. 

     “If I could get a decent one, I’d consider it.  But the fucking truth is, I won’t.  Not without a fight and I just don’t think it’s worth it.  I’m not dying, I’m not bleeding.  I’ve got a cold, a really shitty one that I hope to God neither of you get because dealing with sick Winchesters might actually finish me off.”

     Dean frowned down at you, “What do you mean?  What is it with you and doctors?”

     “I do not have it in me to explain to you the numerous and colossal failings of the American healthcare system, so I am going to simply say this.  It’s my health and I still get a choice.  So, I’m going to my room where I can die in peace and hopefully tomorrow, I will be rise like the Phoenix with clear sinuses.  If not, then my ghost will haunt this bunker and you two will have to fight over my George Carlin collection.”

     Dean blinked at you for a moment, “You know, we killed a phoenix a few years back.”

     You rolled your eyes and started down the hall towards the bedrooms.  “If either of you wake me before noon, I’m licking every doorknob in this place.”

     “It’s a great story, we had to time travel!” he shouted after you.

     You voice echoed back, along with a few coughs, “I’m using your pillowcase to blow my nose!”

     “I don’t like this, Sammy.”

     Sam picked up his own duffle, “Of course you don’t.  Your mother hen instincts go into overdrive whenever any of us gets sick.  Remember Fort Worth?”

     “Food poisoning, God that was awful.  The pair of you were doubled over the toilet for three days from a damn salad.”

     “And Nashville?”

     “Shark week,” Dean muttered, remembering you curled up with a heating pad while he and Sam hunted vampires.  You wouldn’t even talk to them, just whimpered occasionally and buried your head under the covers. 

     “Right.  She doesn’t get sick often, but when she does all she wants to do is sleep.  The more you try to help the more it irritates her.  Just leave her be, she’ll let us know if she needs anything.”

     That earned a frown from the older brother, as did the sound of another sneeze down the hall.  You were a damn stubborn mule when you wanted to be, but that didn’t bother Dean.  It was a useful quality that served you well in the field.  But you tended to double down when you were hurt or scared, making a challenge for people who loved you to help. 

     And Dean did love you. 

     He came to that conclusion long ago when you burst in on him fighting off a werewolf in your barn.  Barefoot, with a sawed-off shotgun in your hands.  You were fearless, clocked the beast right between the eyes. 

Then:      “Are you alright?”

     Dean rolled the dead body off him and got to his feet.  He quickly took measure of the woman standing in the opened doorway.  Silk short shorts and camisole peeked out from under a worn buffalo check flannel.  Blood ran down bare legs and splattered in the cloud of wild curls that framed a pretty face.  Angel with a shotgun.

     Her expression was one of concern, but she kept a tight hold on her weapon.  Smart girl.

     “I should be asking you that question.”

     You glanced down at the blood stains, “It’s not mine.  My neighbor he, ah…I don’t know.  He went… rabid.  I put him down, didn’t want to hurt him, but he came at me…”

     “If you hadn’t, he would have killed you.  Or turned you.  It was a mercy, believe me.”

     You took solace in that.  With a nod, you lowered your gun and glanced over at the werewolf, dead on the ground. 

     “I don’t suppose there’s a monster removal service we call in a situation like this?”

     “It’s your lucky day Sweetheart, cause that’s me.”  Dean stuck his hand out to you, “Dean Winchester, monster remover extraordinaire.”

     You grinned, pulling your lower lip between your teeth and your eyes warmed up.  It was a look he knew well; he’d seen it in women countless times.  You thought he was cute.  You put your hand in his for a handshake and he winked.  You laughed softly, confirming his theory.  You thought he was adorable, or at least charming.  A good start!

     “Y/N Y/L/N.”

     “Y/N.  Pretty name.  If you’ve got a shovel around here, I’ll take care of this.  Then we can decide what to do about your neighbor.”

     You grabbed a pair of shovels along with your rubber gardening boots that you kept by the potting bench.

     “I built the retaining wall in the west garden by myself last summer,” you said, pulling the boots on.  “I’m handy with a shovel.”

     There was a glint of respect in his gaze as he studied you.  It wasn’t every day he met a beautiful woman who offered to help him dig a grave in middle of the night.  In her pajamas. 

     He glanced at the dead body then back to you.  “You sure?”

     “I’ve been saving this bottle of Canadian whiskey for something special.  I think digging my first grave is the occasion I’ve been waiting for.”

     Dean was a grade-A smart ass and never at a loss for a clever comeback.  But damn if you didn’t knock him speechless.  Standing in the middle of a falling down barn with a dead werewolf only a few feet away and blood splattered all over… you were the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on.  He was a confident man who loved women.  When he met a woman he liked, he turned on the charm, pursued her.  Simple.  But you… you held challenge in your eyes, pride in the tilt of your jaw and confidence in the carriage of your body. 

     You were a match to be met. 

     “Well Y/N, lets earn that whiskey.” 

Now:      The following morning, you didn’t come out of your room for breakfast.  When he still hadn’t seen you by noon, he decided to hell with it.  Even if you bit his head off, he was damn well going to check on you.  He was Dean Winchester, damn it!  He’d faced the Devil himself; he could handle a cranky woman with a head cold.

     He stood quietly outside your bedroom, straining to hear any sign that you were awake.  A moment later you broke into a series of coughs, and he took the opportunity to knock.

     “Y/N?”  He cracked the door open and stuck his head inside. 

     Your room was dark except for the glow from your laptop and the tiny light from the vaporizer billowing out peppermint scented air.  Your bed was huge and took up most of the room.  A king-sized masterpiece of cloud-like fluffiness and ruffles.  Princess and the Pea inspired mattress topper and ivory striped pillows stuffed with goose down.  Dean bragged about his memory-foam mattress so often that you took it as a challenge when they invited you pick a room and make it your own.  The bed itself was so big it wouldn’t fit through any door in the bunker, begging the question… how did you manage it?

     You’d teased Dean for weeks, refusing to tell him the simple cheat.  Castiel did it for you.

Then:     “You���ve gotta be kidding me!  I pray to his feathery ass for weeks with no answer and you just up and ask him to move your princess bed and he does it?  Poof?”

     “Well, yeah.  I said please.”

     “It’s very… white.”

     “I know.  We go so many gross places, skeevy motels and hunts covered in monster goop.  I wanted something clean.  You know?”

Now:      With the abundance of pillows and blankets piled on the bed, it was hard to make out your form in the middle of it all.  Dean stepped over your discarded shoes and hunting clothes.  There were piles of crumpled tissues all over the floor, cough drop wrappers and half drank bottles of water. 

     “What time is it?” you asked from the mountain of covers. 

     “Just past noon,” he replied, coming closer to the bed.  “Thought maybe you’d want lunch.”

     You shook your head and Dean could see you a bit clearer in the light of the computer.  Your face was flushed more than it was the night before and your eyes were dull.  You looked utterly miserable.

     He sat on the side of the bed; his hand went to your forehead.  You didn’t even pull away, “Fever.  You take anything for it?”

     Your finger pointed to the table littered with over-the-counter drugs and bottles.  You’d taken everything for it, but nothing really helped.

     “You get any sleep last night?”

     “No,” you said on a sneeze, then groaned.  “This blows.  You should leave so I don’t give you the plague.”

     “Hmm.”  He stood there for a minute, then disappeared out into the hallway.

     You burrowed back under your covers with a shiver, for the first time in his life, Dean Winchester actually did as you asked.  You must be in worse shape than you thought.

     A few minutes later, he reappeared with a large mug in his hands.  “Wanna sit up, Sweetheart?  I’ve got something special for you.”

     With a grunt, you untangled yourself from the bedding and sat up against the padded headboard.  He smiled fondly, you looked adorable, even as sick as you were.  Your hair was held back in twin French braids that were starting to come loose and you were using one of his missing Henley’s for a night shirt.  A few sizes too big, it hung off one of your shoulders.

     “I was wondering where that went.”

     You were confused for a second then tugged self-consciously at the collar buttons.  “It made its way into my rotation after that Wendigo hunt.”

     “Looks better on you anyway,” he held out the mug to you.  “Drink this nice and slow, it’ll take care of that cough so you can sleep.”

     “What is it?” you asked, stirring the steaming liquid with the cinnamon stick that propped against the rim.

     “That is Bobby Singer’s patented, super-secret, cure all hot toddy.  Sammy used to get sick all the time when we were kids, that stuff always put him right.”

     You took a sip, it indeed soothed your throat and although you couldn’t really taste it, the burn of alcohol was distinct. 

     “Wow, how much whiskey is in Bobby’s hot toddy?”

     “Enough to send you off to dreamland.”  He stood and turned to leave.  He knew you didn’t want to be bothered and now that you’d accepted his help, he felt a bit more confident in leaving you.  For a while.

     “I’ll be back in a couple of hours and see if you can stomach some soup and crackers.  Your meds will work better if you eat.”

     He was almost to the door when you stopped him, “Dean?”

     “Yeah?”

     “How’d you kill the phoenix?”

     “It’s a… a long story.”

     You gave a small shrug, feeling silly.  You’d made such a fuss yesterday about being left alone and now you found you wanted him to stay. 

     “I’m not exactly going anywhere.”

     That earned you a genuine smile from him.  He toed off his shoes and launched himself into the middle of your bed with a bellyflop. 

     “Dean!”  You laughed, covering the top of the mug so the contents wouldn’t spill.

     He made a big show of climbing up over the mountain of blankets and pillows, “Jesus, Y/N!  How do you sleep on this pile of marshmallow fluff?”

     “Shut it.  You’ve been dying to try my bed since the day I moved in.”

     “Who says I haven’t?  Remember that trip you took to Jody’s last month?  Sammy and I had a great time painting our toes and talking about boys in here.”

     “Shut up,” you said with a cough.

     “He wanted to try on your underwear, but I drew the line,” he teased, pulling you in close so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders.  “Comfortable?”

     You tucked into his side and let your aching head rest on his chest.  “Mmm.”

     “Good.  So, the year was 1861 and the place was Sunrise, Wyoming.”

     Hours later, long after the hot toddy had done its job, you were deep asleep when Dean woke up.  He was unbelievably hot, and you were the cause.  Obviously, your fever had spiked.  Sweat dotted your brow and soaked through your clothes to the point he was feeling damp where you were cuddled against him.  He gently eased you off, feeling your forehead with a frown.

     “Y/N?  Wake up, sweetheart.”

     You grumbled in your sleep and burrowed deeper under the covers when he pulled them back. 

     “Come on, Y/N,” he urged, pulling a thermometer from his shirt pocket. 

     You were only halfway awake when you realized there was a thin, glass tube under your tongue.  “Wha thmm hemmm?”

     “103.”  He brushed the hair back that had stuck to your temples.  “I think I should take you to the E.R.  High fevers are nothing to mess around with.”

     You shook your head, coughing deeply.  “The meds just wore off.”

     He handed you a box of tissues, “I think you need more than cough syrup and Tylenol.  Let me take you to get looked at.”

     “I’ll be okay Dean; I just need to give it time.”

     Behind the exhaustion and illness, he could see flicker of fear in your eyes, and he was torn.  The last thing he wanted was to push you or take away your choice, but he wasn’t going to let this get out of control. 

     He sighed heavily, “Okay, we’ll try it your way.  On two conditions.  One, you need to eat something, so you keep your strength up.”

     “Okay,” you agreed, trying not to cough again.  “And two?”

     “If this gets worse, you’ll let me take you to the doctor.”  He could feel you instantly withdraw, but he wasn’t going to let you.  This was too important.  He crooked a finger under your chin, gently coaxing you to look at him.

     “I know it scares you, you don’t have to tell me why.  Trust me, I’ll take care of you Y/N.”

     Your reluctance met with his resolve and after a moment, you nodded.  “Okay.”

     “That’s my girl,” Dean praised, brushing a kiss across your forehead.  “Now, if you’re very good, I’ll bring you a bowl of tomato rice soup.”

     “With that bacon cheddar panini you made last time?”

     “Woman after my own heart,” Dean said.  He climbed out of the bed, then noticed you doing the same.

     “Whoa, wait a minute.  Where do you think you’re going?”

     “A shower, I feel disgusting,” you muttered, pawing through the bottles on the nightstand.

     “No way, that fever is way too high.  And you use water hot enough to burn off fingerprints.”

     You tossed back a couple of Tylenol with a generous swallow of water.  “If I smell as awful as I feel, then you shouldn’t be discouraging me.”

     “Y/N…”

     “Super quick, more of a rinse than a shower.”

     “Ten minutes.  Any longer and I’m coming in after you.”

     “Wouldn’t be the first time,” you replied, gathering a fresh set of pajamas.

     “Keep that water tepid,” he called after you. 

     Once you were alone in the shower room, you turned on the water and allowed yourself the coughing fit you’d been holding in.  Dean was worried enough about you.  As sweet as he was, there was a claustrophobic feeling bubbling within you.  It came from a childhood spent as a sick kid.  Parents, teachers, doctors all seemed to hover.  Stealing your air and breathing down your neck. 

     Hidden in the clean clothes were two small bottles of essential oils.  An old remedy passed down from your grandpa.  You striped down and stepped under the water.  It wasn’t nearly as warm as you’d like it, but it was better than nothing.  You uncapped the bottles and sprinkled the contents over the floor.  They mixed with the heat and made a fragrant steam of peppermint and eucalyptus.  You braced your hands against the tiled wall and let your head hang down.  A few minutes breathing in the steam worked to open your nasal passages and more importantly, your lungs. 

     Tightness had been building in your chest since last night and out of all the symptoms, that was the most troubling.  Not even that heavy duty decongestant cut it, and that stuff always helped.  Thankfully, Granddad’s method never let you down.  You breathed as deeply as you could, until the coughing it caused made the room spin and your knees go wobbly.

     You sank down onto the wall bench and turned the water off.  You shivered and tried to work up a bit of strength to dry off and get dressed.  Utterly exhausted, even the thought of standing was enough to tire you.  Of course, you knew if you sat there long enough, Dean would come searching for you.  Potentially naked or not.

     Then:      The shrill scream cut through the bunker, reaching Dean even through his headphones.  He was on his feet and down the hall as another shout echoed from the shower room.  A twist of the handle didn’t yield entry.  Sam was out on a supply run, which meant you were the one trapped inside.

     Dean took a step back and splintered the door off its hinges with a single kick.

     Gun drawn, he burst into the steam filled room, “Y/N?!”

     You were standing on top of one of the teak benches that lined the shower wall.  Soaking wet with shampoo suds cascading down your very naked body.  Your already wide eyes got even bigger, and you screamed again.  You crossed your arms over your breasts and crouched down into a ball, it was the quickest option for modesty.

     “Dean!”

     He peered through the steam and the still running water, gun still drawn, “YN, what the hell?!  What’s going on?!”

     “Spider.”

     He blinked, twice.  “What?”

     You pointed a watery finger towards the middle of the tiled floor, “By the drain.  Huge, HUGE spider.”

     Dean tucked his gun into the back waistband of his jeans, “Damn it, Y/N.  I thought you were being attacked!”

     “Why would I be attacked?  You guys said this bunker is the safest place on Earth!”

     Dean angrily threw a towel at you.  “You were screaming bloody murder!  What the hell else was I going to think?!” 

     You wrapped the towel around your body, tucking It securely under your arms.  “I don’t like spiders, okay?”

     “We just got back from a freaking ghoul hunt, with dead bodies and gore and guts… the whole nine.  You didn’t flinch once, but a bug’s got you clutching your pearls?”

     “It’s an irrational fear, professor,” you replied, switching the water off.  “But since you’re here to rescue me… would you please?”

     Dean rolled his eyes but inspected the drain all the same.  “I don’t see a spider.”

     “What?!”  You looked around frantically, then grabbed Dean’s arm and pointed, “There!  In the corner.”

     He pulled his red handkerchief from his pocket, “Alright, I got him.”

     “Wait!  Don’t kill him!  Just… catch and release.”

     “You’re awfully picky for a damsel in distress,” Dean muttered.  “Is this one of your superstitions, like that cricket in Rhode Island?  Is it bad luck to kill a north-facing spider on a Tuesday?”

     “Nearly every culture believes that killing a cricket brings bad luck.”

     “You know what brings really bad luck?  Going into a vamp nest on no sleep because a fucking cricket was cruising for a date in our bathtub!”

     “That spider doesn’t deserve to die because of my fear.  I just… I don’t want to kill anything else.  Not now, not if I don’t have to.  Do you?”

     You raised your beautiful, luminous eyes and searched out his.  His heart beat in double time and he was suddenly acutely aware of the tiniest details.  Tendrils of your hair dripped water like diamonds on your shoulders and collarbones.  Your skin glowed a healthy pink, you probably used that fluffy loofa thing you always left hanging on faucet.  The scent of your favorite soap hung heavy in the air… what was it?  Ginger peach?  God, he loved it!  You had lotion that went with it and a tiny hand sanitizer that you kept in your purse.  It made his whole car smell like you when you used it, even after you were gone. 

     Dean gave himself a mental shake.  In under five minutes you had taken him on an emotional rollercoaster from panic to irritation to confusion to completely mesmerized.  How did you do that?!  It was happening more and more.  Every time he was around you, he discovered another piece of the puzzle.  He could never predict what you were going to say, but somehow it was always just what he needed to hear.  You voiced the emotions that he had never been able to put into words. 

     “No,” he said at last. “I don’t want to kill anything else either.”

   Now:      Dean was at the stove when you shuffled into the kitchen.  He smiled at you over his shoulder while you sat at the table.  You were in your Christmas leggings and yet another of his missing shirts.  Your face wasn’t as flushed as it had been when you first woke up, a positive sign. 

     “Hope you’ve got your appetite back, because this batch of tomato rice soup is on point.”

     “Your cooking is always on point,” you smiled wanly as he set down a bowl in front of you. 

     “You’re not wrong,” he replied, running his hand over your forehead.  “Fever’s down.  You feel better?”

     “The shower helped.”

     “You smell like a candy cane,” he chuckled, taking a massive bite of his sandwich.

     “Peppermint oil.  For congestion,” you explained. 

     You considered the man across the table from you as you silently ate your soup.  You couldn’t properly taste it, but it was warm and soothed your raw throat.  You’d known Dean Winchester for five years and there were still moments like this, moments where you felt like you were seeing him clearly for the first time.  The delightful domestic behind the swagger and the grit.  He took such pure joy in the mundane that it was hard not to get swept up in it.  The greatest hunter in the world was also the kindest.  Surely there was some sort of cosmic balance working itself out there, but you were too tired to reflect on it.

     “So,” Dean said, pulling you from your thoughts.  “You up for a little movie marathon in the Dean cave?”

     “That would depend on what’s showing.”

     “Lady’s choice.  So long as it doesn’t have subtitles.”

     “La Dolce Vita is a classic!”

     “Die Hard is a classic,” Dean countered.  “Plus, it’s a Christmas movie so it counts double.”

     “Ugh, fine.  You big baby.”  You thought for a moment, covering a cough with the back of your hand.  “How about Ghostbusters?”

     Dean grinned at that, “Yeah?”

     “Or Stripes or um… Caddyshack.  Mom was a Bill Murray fan; we always watched him when I was sick.”

     “Sounds like Mom had good taste,” Dean picked up the dishes and headed to the sink.  “Why don’t you go find a comfortable spot on the couch?  I’ll be right behind you.”

     Laughter always was the best medicine.  And Dean always was the best cuddler.  He brought his gigantic triple thick comforter from his bed and tucked the two of you under it as the 80’s classic played on the flatscreen.  It didn’t take long for the full stomach and the warm hunter to lull you back into a deep sleep.  You were out before the credits rolled.

         Your hacking cough that woke Dean hours later.  It was different this time, you were coughing so much that you couldn’t seem to catch your breath.  He was right behind you as you hunched over the arm of the couch.  As he rubbed your back, he could feel how deeply your lungs rattled.  It was a distinct, wet sounding cough that shook your whole frame.  Heat from your spiked fever radiated through your shirt to his palm. 

     He was saying something to you, but you couldn’t make out the words, only the soothing tone of his voice.  You were truly miserable.  Your head ached with every cough and when you finally managed to stop hacking, you struggled to catch your breath.  A glass of water floated in front of you, and you drank it greedily.

     One word broke through your haze: Doctor.  You didn’t really hear him say it, but the implication was there.

     To his surprise, and as a testament to how awful you felt, you nodded your agreement.  The relief was evident in his voice, “There’s my girl.  Stay put; I’m going to warm up the car.”

     As Dean left, you took stock.  The fever ravaging your system left you feeling disgusting, but you were too tired do anything about it.  Your head was pounding from the coughing fit and your chest was so tight it was painful to draw breath.  You looked down at your pajamas; the snowflake leggings and borrowed shirt were hardly a fashion choice, but they would have to do. 

     There was an awful taste in your mouth had to go.  You could manage a swish of mouthwash, even if you had to sit on the toilet to do it. 

     The minute your stocking feet touched the ground, everything changed.  Your chest got painfully tight.  The feeling of a crushing weight on your chest, as if Dean had driven his car over you and parked it.  The room started to spin and not even holding on to the table made the world steady.  You went down with a thump, landing hard on your ass.  Breathing became like sucking air through a tiny straw, you simply couldn’t.  Your mouth gaped open as you tried and failed to draw air.  Panic swiftly set in as your fingers and toes went numb from lack of oxygen.  Your vision blurred and went dark around the edges.  You dropped to your side and prayed Dean would be quick.

     He was gone five minutes, tops.  The sight of you curled on the floor had him shouting for Sam as he quickly knelt beside you.

     “Y/N!  Baby, look at me, I’m right here…  Sam!!”

     You tired to talk but, no sound came out.  Your hand was on your chest and there was a wheezing sound.  Tears formed at the corners of your eyes. 

     Shit!  He wasn’t sure what had caused this attack, but it didn’t matter.  He had you in his arms as Sam burst through the doorway

     Sam’s eyes went wide as he took in your pale features and distress, “What the hell?!”

     “Hospital now, you’re driving!”

     By the time the Impala was squealing out of the bunker’s garage, you were fully unconscious.  Your limp body sagged against Dean’s chest while he tried to get you to respond.  Sam was alternating between watching the road and checking the rearview on your deteriorating condition.  His foot pressed the accelerator down, pushing the Impala to the limit.

     “What the fuck happened?  I thought she just had a cold.”

     “Its this cough, she couldn’t shake it.”  Dean kept you upright in his lap, knowing it was the easiest position for you to breathe in.  He could feel you losing the battle, even your lips were turning from red and chapped to slightly blue and it scared the hell out of him.

     How the hell did you get this bad so quickly?  He had kept a close eye on you, kept your fever under control, kept you hydrated.  It just didn’t make any sense!  If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought you had… asthma. 

     Flashes came to Dean’s mind; puzzle pieces fell into place.  The vaporizer in your room billowing out peppermint was not a new addition; you took it with you everywhere.  It made even the grossest motel rooms halfway pleasant.  You always kept a scarf wrapped around your neck if the weather was even a little cold, and you pulled it up over your nose when the wind got bitter.  Even that time you helped them burn a body.  You turned away from the pyre and pulled that scarf up… Dean thought it was the smell that got to you. 

     “Shit,” he muttered, digging through your purse as Sam got closer to the city limits.  He pulled out a metal tube with a plastic dispenser.

     “Son of a bitch!” 

      Sam’s eyes caught the reflection, “Is that an inhaler?”

     Turning it over, Dean read the prescription.  “She’s fucking asthmatic!”

     He steadied your lolling head with his hand and brought the inhaler to your mouth, “Okay, baby… this medicine is gonna help you.  Breathe it in for me.”

     He dispensed two puffs into your mouth and prayed the meds got down into your lungs.  Was it the right thing to do?  Use an inhaler on an unconscious person?  Dean had no idea, but he was going to do whatever he needed to do to save you.  He cradled you on his lap and prayed as Sam pulled into the Lebanon Hospital parking lot.

[thatsneakymedic]

Sasori was late to his meeting with Kabuto. He was never late. And if that wasn't bad enough, he was hungover from a night of drinking and woke up in a hotel room after an unknown one-night stand--no idea who was it as they were long gone by the time he was up, maybe for the best. He was never drinking King of the Night Sake again. Fuck him.

" I'm 'ere, I'm 'ere. Bleedin' 'ell my 'ead. Oi, Kabuto! Listen 'ere: never--an' I mean never--drink King of the Night Sake. Worst 'angover of yer life! An' you'll go to bed with a iffy bloke--er shelia. I don't 'member which it was but whoever they was, 'ad silver 'air. Spent all mornin' pluckin' it outta my joints--an' other places. Hmm. . .now I think 'bout it, silver 'air like you but ain't in no Hell I fucked you! Ugh, it best not be 'idan either. "

" Anyway, where's that report? 'and it over so I can get back to base. I need a bloody nap. "

@reddawnmultimuse

Not wanting to waste anymore time nor is curious enough to start investigating on what really happened other than the obvious. Right away, he immediately left the hotel room and paid the bill and then headed straight for the bathhouse to use the public bathroom and shower to wash off any kind of scent, fluids, drool, bruises, marks, his shame... everything as long as he can feel clean again. He wasn't really feeling any sense of trauma or anything, more like just annoyance that he had let down his guard and allow this to happen in the first place.

Even to be 100% sure, he even used a personal STD test from the local pharmacy just in case and he's so relieved that he's in the clear as well. Considering that he almost never has unprotected sex.

Thankfully, he was at the meeting spot first before Sasori could show up, since he realized that he had accidentally spilled that godforsaken sake on it and almost smudged the writing. So he had to rewrite it's contents on a newer and more clean scroll. Hopefully Sasori doesn't mind the bland looking scroll.

An hour later...

He found it rather strange that Sasori of all people was an hour late to their meeting, and he was already slightly dozing off while he sat at the withered log that was on the path. His head still ached despite the pain reliever medication, but he struggled to stay awake. Since he's still all alone here.

The rugged raspy voice wakes him up from his partial nap and he immediately stands up and he prepares the scroll in his hand. Though he couldn't help but notice that despite that he knows that the Hiruko shell is a puppet, he was moving quite sluggish.

The... hell did he just say? He also drank the King of the Night Sake?! So that means that he was in the same town as Kabuto when the special sake was sold?! They had to pull grey-white hair from their parts... Does this mean that... he and Kabuto...? How was that possible when he didn't even see Hiruko, but what he did see was that strange puppet with the red hair that he couldn't see it's identity. Was that his true body or did he use that puppet as some sort of foreplay sex object while he was probably sleeping somewhere where Kabuto didn't see him in the room?

A twist of regret, shock and disgust overwhelms his body and he stays firm to not show the other his reactions to their words or even give a hint of him realizing it. As their words on the truth about sleeping with him are not good. Even if it wasn't his fault in the first place.

His hands tightened around the scroll underneath his cloak as he shakes his head at their question, "No, it shouldn't have been me, Lord Sasori. I didn't visit any kind of bars as of recently. And I wouldn't know if Hidan was nearby or not. Since you only told me about where you will be staying, and Zetsu has not talked to me as of recently."

Handing over the scroll into their wooden hands, he pulls his hood down to not let them see in his eyes on how much discomfort he's feeling now that he knows the truth about what happened between them. He wished that he could just die right then and there or at least turn invisible for the entire year.

He must NEVER allow anyone to know what happened and a promise to not drink while traveling. Especially the Kings of the Night Sake.

"That's all there is to it. Is there anything else you want to know about before I head back out? And I'll remember your advice on that certain brand of sake, since it does sound dangerous to consume without supervision."

Back at the town where they stayed, the drink itself has risen to popularity as well as the increased notoriety of the precautions of drinking it.

[trektraveler]

Breathe Free Part One

Summary: You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, thank you very much! Dean knew that, he also knew better. He'd seen you sick plenty of times in the past five years, but this was different. This was much more than a cold, but you were so stubborn about doctors! Dean Winchester isn't about to let you slip away, even if it means going against your wishes. He only hopes he's not too late!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Dean x Reader, Dean x You

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Sick!Reader, Hospitals, Kissing, fluff

Word Count: 5447

One Shot - Two Parts

Author’s Notes: I have been sick with Covid for a month. Well... down sick for 2 1/2 weeks and recovering my stamina for 2 more. Its been a real bitch. Plus my disabled mother has it now. This is following a nervous breakdown I had in June. Writing has been my passion and my mental health balm, but I've not been able to produce anything in months. So this... this is a fucking triumph!! I'm still working on all my other WIP, so please stick around. I'll get there... eventually :) I'm hoping to finish part two shortly and post in a week... ish.

Thank you all for the continued support!

Masterlist (Part Two)

     You were going to kill him.  Honestly.  If this fucking cold didn’t finish you off, you were going to make it your life’s mission to succeed where every bloody monster, demi-god, angel, demon, and creator of all had failed.  Ridding the world of Dean Winchester would be a public service at this point.  The church would canonize you for this!  There would be bank holidays and parades in your honor.  Maybe an annual postage stamp?  A drink named after you at the local bar, at the least. 

     Of course, you’d have to live long enough to carry out your plan for fame and fortune.  As it was, your odds were 50/50.  Congestion, muscle aches, dizziness, sore throat, non-existent appetite and low-grade fever.  How is it that each of these symptoms alone were minor?  Almost unnoticeable.  You could easily carry out any task battling them one on one.  Yet together they took you down hard.  It was unfair and utterly ridiculous!  Not to mention hugely inconvenient. 

     It was probably that sneezing sheriff from that last case.  You had to introduce him of the concept of personal space more than once.  The douchebag said it was just allergies.  Contagious creep!

     Still, you were home now.  Back at the bunker with three bags worth of pharmacy remedies to ease your pain until the virus ran it’s course.  All you had to do was make it to your room and you could drown yourself in cough syrup and peppermint oil.  Unfortunately, Dean was not making it easy.

     “You sound like shit, Y/N.”

     “Well, I feel like shit, so that tracks.”

     You coughed harshly into the crook of your elbow as you trudged down the metal stairs behind Dean.  Sam followed behind you, carrying your bags and his.  Gentleman that he was.  Levelheaded and sensible, God must have given Dean’s portion of those admirable qualities to his brother. 

     “That cough is getting worse,” Dean said, tossing his duffle down on the war room table. 

     “That’s because you won’t shut up.”

     “What does that have to do with it?”

     “Because you keep baiting me into conversation with all of your pushy opinions.  If you didn’t make me talk so much, I wouldn’t be coughing so much!”  You broke off into a hacking fit that proved your point in your mind.  This was entirely his fault!

     “That’s ridiculous.  You’ve been talking non-stop since we met you five years ago and you never coughed up a lung because of it.”  Dean shook his head and looked to his brother, “Sam, help me out here.”

     Sam usually occupied neutral territory during these debates, but one look at you and he sided with Dean.  “Why don’t we go get you checked out, Y/N?”

     “I got checked out in Billings, they said it wasn’t Covid.  It’s probably just a run of the mill virus.”

     “That guy was like twelve,” Dean scoffed.  “I’m surprised he knew what to do with swab.”

     “He was a doctor, Dean!”

     “Debatable.”

     “There’s no harm in a second opinion,” Sam pointed out. 

     You were so tired you just wanted to cry.  Why were they being so hard-headed about this?  Typical!  Men always think they know everything.  It was all so simple for them, they never had to jump through the hoops that you did when getting care.  It was always the same when you went to the doctor, which is why you never went.  Doctors who dismiss your symptoms and bill you for the privilege.  If you were up to your usual fiery disposition, you’d launch into a lengthy explanation, but you just didn’t have it in you. 

     “If I could get a decent one, I’d consider it.  But the fucking truth is, I won’t.  Not without a fight and I just don’t think it’s worth it.  I’m not dying, I’m not bleeding.  I’ve got a cold, a really shitty one that I hope to God neither of you get because dealing with sick Winchesters might actually finish me off.”

     Dean frowned down at you, “What do you mean?  What is it with you and doctors?”

     “I do not have it in me to explain to you the numerous and colossal failings of the American healthcare system, so I am going to simply say this.  It’s my health and I still get a choice.  So, I’m going to my room where I can die in peace and hopefully tomorrow, I will be rise like the Phoenix with clear sinuses.  If not, then my ghost will haunt this bunker and you two will have to fight over my George Carlin collection.”

     Dean blinked at you for a moment, “You know, we killed a phoenix a few years back.”

     You rolled your eyes and started down the hall towards the bedrooms.  “If either of you wake me before noon, I’m licking every doorknob in this place.”

     “It’s a great story, we had to time travel!” he shouted after you.

     You voice echoed back, along with a few coughs, “I’m using your pillowcase to blow my nose!”

     “I don’t like this, Sammy.”

     Sam picked up his own duffle, “Of course you don’t.  Your mother hen instincts go into overdrive whenever any of us gets sick.  Remember Fort Worth?”

     “Food poisoning, God that was awful.  The pair of you were doubled over the toilet for three days from a damn salad.”

     “And Nashville?”

     “Shark week,” Dean muttered, remembering you curled up with a heating pad while he and Sam hunted vampires.  You wouldn’t even talk to them, just whimpered occasionally and buried your head under the covers. 

     “Right.  She doesn’t get sick often, but when she does all she wants to do is sleep.  The more you try to help the more it irritates her.  Just leave her be, she’ll let us know if she needs anything.”

     That earned a frown from the older brother, as did the sound of another sneeze down the hall.  You were a damn stubborn mule when you wanted to be, but that didn’t bother Dean.  It was a useful quality that served you well in the field.  But you tended to double down when you were hurt or scared, making a challenge for people who loved you to help. 

     And Dean did love you. 

     He came to that conclusion long ago when you burst in on him fighting off a werewolf in your barn.  Barefoot, with a sawed-off shotgun in your hands.  You were fearless, clocked the beast right between the eyes. 

Then:      “Are you alright?”

     Dean rolled the dead body off him and got to his feet.  He quickly took measure of the woman standing in the opened doorway.  Silk short shorts and camisole peeked out from under a worn buffalo check flannel.  Blood ran down bare legs and splattered in the cloud of wild curls that framed a pretty face.  Angel with a shotgun.

     Her expression was one of concern, but she kept a tight hold on her weapon.  Smart girl.

     “I should be asking you that question.”

     You glanced down at the blood stains, “It’s not mine.  My neighbor he, ah…I don’t know.  He went… rabid.  I put him down, didn’t want to hurt him, but he came at me…”

     “If you hadn’t, he would have killed you.  Or turned you.  It was a mercy, believe me.”

     You took solace in that.  With a nod, you lowered your gun and glanced over at the werewolf, dead on the ground. 

     “I don’t suppose there’s a monster removal service we call in a situation like this?”

     “It’s your lucky day Sweetheart, cause that’s me.”  Dean stuck his hand out to you, “Dean Winchester, monster remover extraordinaire.”

     You grinned, pulling your lower lip between your teeth and your eyes warmed up.  It was a look he knew well; he’d seen it in women countless times.  You thought he was cute.  You put your hand in his for a handshake and he winked.  You laughed softly, confirming his theory.  You thought he was adorable, or at least charming.  A good start!

     “Y/N Y/L/N.”

     “Y/N.  Pretty name.  If you’ve got a shovel around here, I’ll take care of this.  Then we can decide what to do about your neighbor.”

     You grabbed a pair of shovels along with your rubber gardening boots that you kept by the potting bench.

     “I built the retaining wall in the west garden by myself last summer,” you said, pulling the boots on.  “I’m handy with a shovel.”

     There was a glint of respect in his gaze as he studied you.  It wasn’t every day he met a beautiful woman who offered to help him dig a grave in middle of the night.  In her pajamas. 

     He glanced at the dead body then back to you.  “You sure?”

     “I’ve been saving this bottle of Canadian whiskey for something special.  I think digging my first grave is the occasion I’ve been waiting for.”

     Dean was a grade-A smart ass and never at a loss for a clever comeback.  But damn if you didn’t knock him speechless.  Standing in the middle of a falling down barn with a dead werewolf only a few feet away and blood splattered all over… you were the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on.  He was a confident man who loved women.  When he met a woman he liked, he turned on the charm, pursued her.  Simple.  But you… you held challenge in your eyes, pride in the tilt of your jaw and confidence in the carriage of your body. 

     You were a match to be met. 

     “Well Y/N, lets earn that whiskey.” 

Now:      The following morning, you didn’t come out of your room for breakfast.  When he still hadn’t seen you by noon, he decided to hell with it.  Even if you bit his head off, he was damn well going to check on you.  He was Dean Winchester, damn it!  He’d faced the Devil himself; he could handle a cranky woman with a head cold.

     He stood quietly outside your bedroom, straining to hear any sign that you were awake.  A moment later you broke into a series of coughs, and he took the opportunity to knock.

     “Y/N?”  He cracked the door open and stuck his head inside. 

     Your room was dark except for the glow from your laptop and the tiny light from the vaporizer billowing out peppermint scented air.  Your bed was huge and took up most of the room.  A king-sized masterpiece of cloud-like fluffiness and ruffles.  Princess and the Pea inspired mattress topper and ivory striped pillows stuffed with goose down.  Dean bragged about his memory-foam mattress so often that you took it as a challenge when they invited you pick a room and make it your own.  The bed itself was so big it wouldn’t fit through any door in the bunker, begging the question… how did you manage it?

     You’d teased Dean for weeks, refusing to tell him the simple cheat.  Castiel did it for you.

Then:     “You’ve gotta be kidding me!  I pray to his feathery ass for weeks with no answer and you just up and ask him to move your princess bed and he does it?  Poof?”

     “Well, yeah.  I said please.”

     “It’s very… white.”

     “I know.  We go so many gross places, skeevy motels and hunts covered in monster goop.  I wanted something clean.  You know?”

Now:      With the abundance of pillows and blankets piled on the bed, it was hard to make out your form in the middle of it all.  Dean stepped over your discarded shoes and hunting clothes.  There were piles of crumpled tissues all over the floor, cough drop wrappers and half drank bottles of water. 

     “What time is it?” you asked from the mountain of covers. 

     “Just past noon,” he replied, coming closer to the bed.  “Thought maybe you’d want lunch.”

     You shook your head and Dean could see you a bit clearer in the light of the computer.  Your face was flushed more than it was the night before and your eyes were dull.  You looked utterly miserable.

     He sat on the side of the bed; his hand went to your forehead.  You didn’t even pull away, “Fever.  You take anything for it?”

     Your finger pointed to the table littered with over-the-counter drugs and bottles.  You’d taken everything for it, but nothing really helped.

     “You get any sleep last night?”

     “No,” you said on a sneeze, then groaned.  “This blows.  You should leave so I don’t give you the plague.”

     “Hmm.”  He stood there for a minute, then disappeared out into the hallway.

     You burrowed back under your covers with a shiver, for the first time in his life, Dean Winchester actually did as you asked.  You must be in worse shape than you thought.

     A few minutes later, he reappeared with a large mug in his hands.  “Wanna sit up, Sweetheart?  I’ve got something special for you.”

     With a grunt, you untangled yourself from the bedding and sat up against the padded headboard.  He smiled fondly, you looked adorable, even as sick as you were.  Your hair was held back in twin French braids that were starting to come loose and you were using one of his missing Henley’s for a night shirt.  A few sizes too big, it hung off one of your shoulders.

     “I was wondering where that went.”

     You were confused for a second then tugged self-consciously at the collar buttons.  “It made its way into my rotation after that Wendigo hunt.”

     “Looks better on you anyway,” he held out the mug to you.  “Drink this nice and slow, it’ll take care of that cough so you can sleep.”

     “What is it?” you asked, stirring the steaming liquid with the cinnamon stick that propped against the rim.

     “That is Bobby Singer’s patented, super-secret, cure all hot toddy.  Sammy used to get sick all the time when we were kids, that stuff always put him right.”

     You took a sip, it indeed soothed your throat and although you couldn’t really taste it, the burn of alcohol was distinct. 

     “Wow, how much whiskey is in Bobby’s hot toddy?”

     “Enough to send you off to dreamland.”  He stood and turned to leave.  He knew you didn’t want to be bothered and now that you’d accepted his help, he felt a bit more confident in leaving you.  For a while.

     “I’ll be back in a couple of hours and see if you can stomach some soup and crackers.  Your meds will work better if you eat.”

     He was almost to the door when you stopped him, “Dean?”

     “Yeah?”

     “How’d you kill the phoenix?”

     “It’s a… a long story.”

     You gave a small shrug, feeling silly.  You’d made such a fuss yesterday about being left alone and now you found you wanted him to stay. 

     “I’m not exactly going anywhere.”

     That earned you a genuine smile from him.  He toed off his shoes and launched himself into the middle of your bed with a bellyflop. 

     “Dean!”  You laughed, covering the top of the mug so the contents wouldn’t spill.

     He made a big show of climbing up over the mountain of blankets and pillows, “Jesus, Y/N!  How do you sleep on this pile of marshmallow fluff?”

     “Shut it.  You’ve been dying to try my bed since the day I moved in.”

     “Who says I haven’t?  Remember that trip you took to Jody’s last month?  Sammy and I had a great time painting our toes and talking about boys in here.”

     “Shut up,” you said with a cough.

     “He wanted to try on your underwear, but I drew the line,” he teased, pulling you in close so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders.  “Comfortable?”

     You tucked into his side and let your aching head rest on his chest.  “Mmm.”

     “Good.  So, the year was 1861 and the place was Sunrise, Wyoming.”

     Hours later, long after the hot toddy had done its job, you were deep asleep when Dean woke up.  He was unbelievably hot, and you were the cause.  Obviously, your fever had spiked.  Sweat dotted your brow and soaked through your clothes to the point he was feeling damp where you were cuddled against him.  He gently eased you off, feeling your forehead with a frown.

     “Y/N?  Wake up, sweetheart.”

     You grumbled in your sleep and burrowed deeper under the covers when he pulled them back. 

     “Come on, Y/N,” he urged, pulling a thermometer from his shirt pocket. 

     You were only halfway awake when you realized there was a thin, glass tube under your tongue.  “Wha thmm hemmm?”

     “103.”  He brushed the hair back that had stuck to your temples.  “I think I should take you to the E.R.  High fevers are nothing to mess around with.”

     You shook your head, coughing deeply.  “The meds just wore off.”

     He handed you a box of tissues, “I think you need more than cough syrup and Tylenol.  Let me take you to get looked at.”

     “I’ll be okay Dean; I just need to give it time.”

     Behind the exhaustion and illness, he could see flicker of fear in your eyes, and he was torn.  The last thing he wanted was to push you or take away your choice, but he wasn’t going to let this get out of control. 

     He sighed heavily, “Okay, we’ll try it your way.  On two conditions.  One, you need to eat something, so you keep your strength up.”

     “Okay,” you agreed, trying not to cough again.  “And two?”

     “If this gets worse, you’ll let me take you to the doctor.”  He could feel you instantly withdraw, but he wasn’t going to let you.  This was too important.  He crooked a finger under your chin, gently coaxing you to look at him.

     “I know it scares you, you don’t have to tell me why.  Trust me, I’ll take care of you Y/N.”

     Your reluctance met with his resolve and after a moment, you nodded.  “Okay.”

     “That’s my girl,” Dean praised, brushing a kiss across your forehead.  “Now, if you’re very good, I’ll bring you a bowl of tomato rice soup.”

     “With that bacon cheddar panini you made last time?”

     “Woman after my own heart,” Dean said.  He climbed out of the bed, then noticed you doing the same.

     “Whoa, wait a minute.  Where do you think you’re going?”

     “A shower, I feel disgusting,” you muttered, pawing through the bottles on the nightstand.

     “No way, that fever is way too high.  And you use water hot enough to burn off fingerprints.”

     You tossed back a couple of Tylenol with a generous swallow of water.  “If I smell as awful as I feel, then you shouldn’t be discouraging me.”

     “Y/N…”

     “Super quick, more of a rinse than a shower.”

     “Ten minutes.  Any longer and I’m coming in after you.”

     “Wouldn’t be the first time,” you replied, gathering a fresh set of pajamas.

     “Keep that water tepid,” he called after you. 

     Once you were alone in the shower room, you turned on the water and allowed yourself the coughing fit you’d been holding in.  Dean was worried enough about you.  As sweet as he was, there was a claustrophobic feeling bubbling within you.  It came from a childhood spent as a sick kid.  Parents, teachers, doctors all seemed to hover.  Stealing your air and breathing down your neck. 

     Hidden in the clean clothes were two small bottles of essential oils.  An old remedy passed down from your grandpa.  You striped down and stepped under the water.  It wasn’t nearly as warm as you’d like it, but it was better than nothing.  You uncapped the bottles and sprinkled the contents over the floor.  They mixed with the heat and made a fragrant steam of peppermint and eucalyptus.  You braced your hands against the tiled wall and let your head hang down.  A few minutes breathing in the steam worked to open your nasal passages and more importantly, your lungs. 

     Tightness had been building in your chest since last night and out of all the symptoms, that was the most troubling.  Not even that heavy duty decongestant cut it, and that stuff always helped.  Thankfully, Granddad’s method never let you down.  You breathed as deeply as you could, until the coughing it caused made the room spin and your knees go wobbly.

     You sank down onto the wall bench and turned the water off.  You shivered and tried to work up a bit of strength to dry off and get dressed.  Utterly exhausted, even the thought of standing was enough to tire you.  Of course, you knew if you sat there long enough, Dean would come searching for you.  Potentially naked or not.

     Then:      The shrill scream cut through the bunker, reaching Dean even through his headphones.  He was on his feet and down the hall as another shout echoed from the shower room.  A twist of the handle didn’t yield entry.  Sam was out on a supply run, which meant you were the one trapped inside.

     Dean took a step back and splintered the door off its hinges with a single kick.

     Gun drawn, he burst into the steam filled room, “Y/N?!”

     You were standing on top of one of the teak benches that lined the shower wall.  Soaking wet with shampoo suds cascading down your very naked body.  Your already wide eyes got even bigger, and you screamed again.  You crossed your arms over your breasts and crouched down into a ball, it was the quickest option for modesty.

     “Dean!”

     He peered through the steam and the still running water, gun still drawn, “YN, what the hell?!  What’s going on?!”

     “Spider.”

     He blinked, twice.  “What?”

     You pointed a watery finger towards the middle of the tiled floor, “By the drain.  Huge, HUGE spider.”

     Dean tucked his gun into the back waistband of his jeans, “Damn it, Y/N.  I thought you were being attacked!”

     “Why would I be attacked?  You guys said this bunker is the safest place on Earth!”

     Dean angrily threw a towel at you.  “You were screaming bloody murder!  What the hell else was I going to think?!” 

     You wrapped the towel around your body, tucking It securely under your arms.  “I don’t like spiders, okay?”

     “We just got back from a freaking ghoul hunt, with dead bodies and gore and guts… the whole nine.  You didn’t flinch once, but a bug’s got you clutching your pearls?”

     “It’s an irrational fear, professor,” you replied, switching the water off.  “But since you’re here to rescue me… would you please?”

     Dean rolled his eyes but inspected the drain all the same.  “I don’t see a spider.”

     “What?!”  You looked around frantically, then grabbed Dean’s arm and pointed, “There!  In the corner.”

     He pulled his red handkerchief from his pocket, “Alright, I got him.”

     “Wait!  Don’t kill him!  Just… catch and release.”

     “You’re awfully picky for a damsel in distress,” Dean muttered.  “Is this one of your superstitions, like that cricket in Rhode Island?  Is it bad luck to kill a north-facing spider on a Tuesday?”

     “Nearly every culture believes that killing a cricket brings bad luck.”

     “You know what brings really bad luck?  Going into a vamp nest on no sleep because a fucking cricket was cruising for a date in our bathtub!”

     “That spider doesn’t deserve to die because of my fear.  I just… I don’t want to kill anything else.  Not now, not if I don’t have to.  Do you?”

     You raised your beautiful, luminous eyes and searched out his.  His heart beat in double time and he was suddenly acutely aware of the tiniest details.  Tendrils of your hair dripped water like diamonds on your shoulders and collarbones.  Your skin glowed a healthy pink, you probably used that fluffy loofa thing you always left hanging on faucet.  The scent of your favorite soap hung heavy in the air… what was it?  Ginger peach?  God, he loved it!  You had lotion that went with it and a tiny hand sanitizer that you kept in your purse.  It made his whole car smell like you when you used it, even after you were gone. 

     Dean gave himself a mental shake.  In under five minutes you had taken him on an emotional rollercoaster from panic to irritation to confusion to completely mesmerized.  How did you do that?!  It was happening more and more.  Every time he was around you, he discovered another piece of the puzzle.  He could never predict what you were going to say, but somehow it was always just what he needed to hear.  You voiced the emotions that he had never been able to put into words. 

     “No,” he said at last. “I don’t want to kill anything else either.”

          Now:      Dean was at the stove when you shuffled into the kitchen.  He smiled at you over his shoulder while you sat at the table.  You were in your Christmas leggings and yet another of his missing shirts.  Your face wasn’t as flushed as it had been when you first woke up, a positive sign. 

     “Hope you’ve got your appetite back, because this batch of tomato rice soup is on point.”

     “Your cooking is always on point,” you smiled wanly as he set down a bowl in front of you. 

     “You’re not wrong,” he replied, running his hand over your forehead.  “Fever’s down.  You feel better?”

     “The shower helped.”

     “You smell like a candy cane,” he chuckled, taking a massive bite of his sandwich.

     “Peppermint oil.  For congestion,” you explained. 

     You considered the man across the table from you as you silently ate your soup.  You couldn’t properly taste it, but it was warm and soothed your raw throat.  You’d known Dean Winchester for five years and there were still moments like this, moments where you felt like you were seeing him clearly for the first time.  The delightful domestic behind the swagger and the grit.  He took such pure joy in the mundane that it was hard not to get swept up in it.  The greatest hunter in the world was also the kindest.  Surely there was some sort of cosmic balance working itself out there, but you were too tired to reflect on it.

     “So,” Dean said, pulling you from your thoughts.  “You up for a little movie marathon in the Dean cave?”

     “That would depend on what’s showing.”

     “Lady’s choice.  So long as it doesn’t have subtitles.”

     “La Dolce Vita is a classic!”

     “Die Hard is a classic,” Dean countered.  “Plus, it’s a Christmas movie so it counts double.”

     “Ugh, fine.  You big baby.”  You thought for a moment, covering a cough with the back of your hand.  “How about Ghostbusters?”

     Dean grinned at that, “Yeah?”

     “Or Stripes or um… Caddyshack.  Mom was a Bill Murray fan; we always watched him when I was sick.”

     “Sounds like Mom had good taste,” Dean picked up the dishes and headed to the sink.  “Why don’t you go find a comfortable spot on the couch?  I’ll be right behind you.”

     Laughter always was the best medicine.  And Dean always was the best cuddler.  He brought his gigantic triple thick comforter from his bed and tucked the two of you under it as the 80’s classic played on the flatscreen.  It didn’t take long for the full stomach and the warm hunter to lull you back into a deep sleep.  You were out before the credits rolled.

         Your hacking cough that woke Dean hours later.  It was different this time, you were coughing so much that you couldn’t seem to catch your breath.  He was right behind you as you hunched over the arm of the couch.  As he rubbed your back, he could feel how deeply your lungs rattled.  It was a distinct, wet sounding cough that shook your whole frame.  Heat from your spiked fever radiated through your shirt to his palm. 

     He was saying something to you, but you couldn’t make out the words, only the soothing tone of his voice.  You were truly miserable.  Your head ached with every cough and when you finally managed to stop hacking, you struggled to catch your breath.  A glass of water floated in front of you, and you drank it greedily.

     One word broke through your haze: Doctor.  You didn’t really hear him say it, but the implication was there.

     To his surprise, and as a testament to how awful you felt, you nodded your agreement.  The relief was evident in his voice, “There’s my girl.  Stay put; I’m going to warm up the car.”

     As Dean left, you took stock.  The fever ravaging your system left you feeling disgusting, but you were too tired do anything about it.  Your head was pounding from the coughing fit and your chest was so tight it was painful to draw breath.  You looked down at your pajamas; the snowflake leggings and borrowed shirt were hardly a fashion choice, but they would have to do. 

     There was an awful taste in your mouth had to go.  You could manage a swish of mouthwash, even if you had to sit on the toilet to do it. 

     The minute your stocking feet touched the ground, everything changed.  Your chest got painfully tight.  The feeling of a crushing weight on your chest, as if Dean had driven his car over you and parked it.  The room started to spin and not even holding on to the table made the world steady.  You went down with a thump, landing hard on your ass.  Breathing became like sucking air through a tiny straw, you simply couldn’t.  Your mouth gaped open as you tried and failed to draw air.  Panic swiftly set in as your fingers and toes went numb from lack of oxygen.  Your vision blurred and went dark around the edges.  You dropped to your side and prayed Dean would be quick.

     He was gone five minutes, tops.  The sight of you curled on the floor had him shouting for Sam as he quickly knelt beside you.

     “Y/N!  Baby, look at me, I’m right here...  Sam!!”

     You tired to talk but, no sound came out.  Your hand was on your chest and there was a wheezing sound.  Tears formed at the corners of your eyes. 

     Shit!  He wasn’t sure what had caused this attack, but it didn’t matter.  He had you in his arms as Sam burst through the doorway

     Sam’s eyes went wide as he took in your pale features and distress, “What the hell?!”

     “Hospital now, you’re driving!”

     By the time the Impala was squealing out of the bunker’s garage, you were fully unconscious.  Your limp body sagged against Dean’s chest while he tried to get you to respond.  Sam was alternating between watching the road and checking the rearview on your deteriorating condition.  His foot pressed the accelerator down, pushing the Impala to the limit.

     “What the fuck happened?  I thought she just had a cold.”

     “Its this cough, she couldn’t shake it.”  Dean kept you upright in his lap, knowing it was the easiest position for you to breathe in.  He could feel you losing the battle, even your lips were turning from red and chapped to slightly blue and it scared the hell out of him.

     How the hell did you get this bad so quickly?  He had kept a close eye on you, kept your fever under control, kept you hydrated.  It just didn’t make any sense!  If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought you had… asthma. 

     Flashes came to Dean’s mind; puzzle pieces fell into place.  The vaporizer in your room billowing out peppermint was not a new addition; you took it with you everywhere.  It made even the grossest motel rooms halfway pleasant.  You always kept a scarf wrapped around your neck if the weather was even a little cold, and you pulled it up over your nose when the wind got bitter.  Even that time you helped them burn a body.  You turned away from the pyre and pulled that scarf up… Dean thought it was the smell that got to you. 

     “Shit,” he muttered, digging through your purse as Sam got closer to the city limits.  He pulled out a metal tube with a plastic dispenser.

     “Son of a bitch!” 

      Sam’s eyes caught the reflection, “Is that an inhaler?”

     Turning it over, Dean read the prescription.  “She’s fucking asthmatic!”

     He steadied your lolling head with his hand and brought the inhaler to your mouth, “Okay, baby… this medicine is gonna help you.  Breathe it in for me.”

     He dispensed two puffs into your mouth and prayed the meds got down into your lungs.  Was it the right thing to do?  Use an inhaler on an unconscious person?  Dean had no idea, but he was going to do whatever he needed to do to save you.  He cradled you on his lap and prayed as Sam pulled into the Lebanon Hospital parking lot.

Part Two TAGLIST @deans-baby-momma @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsurdity @starryeyeseunbyul @sexyvixen7 @katsbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetry @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis  @kinderousmaster @lyarr24 @aphorism-001 @onlinecemetery @allonsy-yesiwill @myeagletoadmaker

[thran-duils]

Doll Me Up (P.9)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Nine) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 2,991 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior, drug use

Author’s Note: I apologize if the tags haven’t been working. I was using the new beta editor but I’ve switched back to traditional! BTW, I think I am coming up to the close on the fic soon! Just a head’s up.

Part Eight || Part Ten || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

~A month ago…

You heard someone walk into the living room and you peeked out from your cocoon of blankets you had set up for yourself, curled up on the couch, watching tv. Happy cocked an eyebrow seeing you, his eyes running over the seltzer water and all the blankets.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

“I don’t feel great,” you said, taking another sip of your water. You wished Tony was home, but he had gone on a business trip. Happy had stayed behind to keep an eye on you. Tony trusted him more than any of his other men to make sure you were kept safe in his absence.

“Do you need to go to the doctor?” Happy asked concerned.

You shrugged, “I’m just nauseous. I don’t think it’s anything serious. I might have eaten something bad.”

Happy did not look convinced. “Tell me if it gets worse. And I’ll get you an appointment.”

Nodding, you picked your water back up and took another drink, hoping the carbonation would help settle your stomach. You did not even bother to tell Tony later around dinner time when he called to check in, brushing it off.

It subsided later in the day and you thought you were in the clear until the next morning – very early, 4:00am – it hit again. Groaning, you could not ignore the swirling and you got out of bed, rubbing at your eyes.

FRIDAY set on the baseboard lights as you walked downstairs to guide your way.

You opened the bag of bread and took a slice out, stuffing it into your mouth as you closed the bag back up. Taking a large bite, you chewed slowly. Maybe you were having acid reflux and the bread would help soak it up.

You meandered, swallowing the first bite, as you approached the door to the patio. You laid your hand on it and it unlocked for you. Stepping outside, you inhaled the fresh air deeply. That made you feel slightly better.

<><><>

In Berlin, Tony’s watch beeped. He looked away from the table where he was having a late lunch with a fellow boss and their crew that was helping him secure capital in the city. FRIDAY was alerting him that Y/N had activated the system to go outside. His face screwed up in confusion, calculating quickly what time it was back home in Malibu. It would be a little after 4:25am.

“Excuse me, would you?” Tony asked and the other boss nodded, taking a drink of their beer. Tony slipped his tablet out of his bag as he left the table.

Walking away from the table, he moved towards the balcony overlooking the city. Holding the tablet up, he accessed the cameras at home, pulling up the outside cameras since she had left to the patio. He was on edge, wondering what the hell she was doing outside so early.

She was just sitting in one of the chairs, eating a piece of bread, which only served to confuse him more. But at least she was there; she had not run off.

He watched her for a few moments before movement by the door caught his eye and he saw Happy step outside.

“Good man,” Tony said under his breath, knowing FRIDAY would have alerted Happy too in the guest room he was in per Tony’s programming. He would have been severely disappointed if Happy had not come outside to check on her.

The two of them were speaking and Tony did not miss the concerned look on Happy’s face.

Suddenly, Y/N jerked forward, vomiting all over the cement, barely missing Happy’s slippers much to Tony’s shock. Was she hung over? That would explain the bread.

Happy came closer and his hand came to her back, steadying her as she leaned over the side of the chair. He was speaking quickly to her and she shook her head, and he shook his right back at her. Tony watched Happy settle her back and hold up a hand to her, before he went back towards the door, leaving her out there.

When he came back out, he had some napkins and some water. She shook her head at the water and he forced it towards her.

“Looks like someone had a little too much fun last night,” Tony said to himself before closing the camera. He had no further reason to be concerned about it; it looked like Happy had it perfectly under control.

Which is why when he had just got sat back down at the table, his cell phone started to ring. The other boss laughed at his expense, making a comment about him being a busy man. Tony apologized and checked his watch, seeing it was Happy. He excused himself again quickly and got up.

“What?” Tony asked. “I just got sat down at the table.”

“I’m gonna make an appointment for Y/N. Where do you want her to go?” Happy cut in immediately.

“What? What for?”

“She doesn’t feel good.”

“Yeah, I saw. Got a good view of that vomit. How much did she have to drink last night?”

“Nothing. She didn’t drink anything,” Happy told him, surprising Tony. “She didn’t feel well yesterday either and I told her to tell me if it got worse. Did she tell you when she spoke to you on the phone last night?”

“No. What do you mean she’s not feeling well?”

“Nausea she said. Maybe she has a stomach bug, I don’t know. But food poisoning doesn’t generally last two days.”

Tony rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Um, just take her to my guy. She’s on my insurance plan. She’s been to him before.”

“Not the ER?”

“You think it’s an ER type of situation?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, throwing up usually isn’t an ER thing but I don’t know.”

“Did she throw up yesterday?”

“No, not that I know of.”

“No other symptoms?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” Tony said to himself more than anything. He pondered on it and tapped the railing as he weighed the options. Something came to him then and he straightened up. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought more about it.

“Boss?”

Shaking his head, Tony cleared his throat, “You know, no. On second thought, no. No doctor or ER.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m heading back tonight. You know, if she starts showing other symptoms, take her to the doctor. My guy. But I think she’ll be fine.”

Happy said slowly, “Um, alright…”

“Morning sickness, Hap. Not to get too excited about it yet but… fits the bill.”

“Oh,” Happy said and Tony could hear the realization peaking in his voice. “Right.”

“So, just keep an eye on her. I’ll be on the plane soon and then I’ll just stop on the way home at the pharmacy. Get a test,” Tony said, feeling lighter about the situation. “Order her some 7-Up or something, soups. Just keep her comfortable for me, yeah?”

“You got it,” Happy confirmed.

<><><>

“We have lunch plans, but Tony is taking forever,” you told Steve as the two of you boarded the elevator to go down further into the building.

Anticipation was nipping at your heels; you had not explored this part of the building yet. Steve had come to speak to Tony but when he was told by Angelica that Tony was busy, he was quick to brush off needing to see him. He just needed to go downstairs to pick something up. You had practically thrown down the magazine you were pretending to read, asking if you could come with. He had been polite and courteous, telling you he would love the company. Angelica looked like she wanted to say something, but you purposely ignored her, walking by and following Steve.

“Oh? Where are you going for lunch?” Steve asked interested.

“This place Pepper suggested. Mario’s. Up in the Bronx.”

“Never been.”

“I trust her opinion. She seems to know what she’s talking about.”

“That she does,” Steve smiled back.

“What are you doing here though?” you inquired, switching gears.

“I need another set of batteries for one of my weapons.”

“You couldn’t go to the store?” you asked confused.

Steve chuckled, throwing you an amused look. “No, they’re special batteries.”

“Oh…”

Steve immediately noticed your embarrassment and he quickly said, “Not like you would know that. That’s something I would think too. But the batteries are special. What you said was logical.”

Logical. Not an adjective you heard attributed to you often. Maybe never.

The elevator door opened, and you hesitated seeing the men standing guard outside it but Steve strode out, unperturbed by them. You followed him, catching up to his long strides.

“Why did you want to come down here though besides Tony taking too long?” Steve asked, eyeing you curiously as the pair of you walked.

“One, I was bored as you can imagine, waiting for him to finish whatever he was doing. And two, Tony didn’t let me see anything except his office or the boardroom since I’ve been here. Said it wasn’t important for me to see it. But I want to.”

“Hmm,” Steve said shooting you a look. “You think you should be down here then?”

“I don’t see why not. I can keep secrets well enough if that’s what everyone is worried about.”

Steve’s lips curled into a soft smile at that, his eyes running over you.

You were taking in all the people working, the technology they were using. It was like the garage back home where Tony worked but far, far more busy. It was a little overwhelming.

Steve was nodding at random people who greeted him in awe. He came to a stop in front of someone though standing behind a desk.

She looked up and smiled, recognizing him on sight. “That was quick, Cap.” He eyes turned to you and she faltered, “And…”

“Y/N. Tony’s wife,” Steve introduced you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you,” she apologized immediately. You took note that her bade said her name was Eva.

“How could you have? I’ve never been down here before,” you said, giving her a small reassuring smile.

She relaxed at your calm demeanor and turned to grab something off the desk behind her. Handing it to Steve, she told him, “So, there’s backups in there too so you don’t need to make another trip so soon.”

“Nice, that’s thoughtful. Thank you,” Steve commented.

“You’re going to want to update your system though. I’ll send you a link to do so on the secure network,” Eva went on explaining.

“Alright, I’ll figure it out.” Steve looked at you and said sheepishly, “Tech isn’t my strong point. I have gotten better though, so there’s hope.”

“I can’t keep up with Tony sometimes and I’ve been around technology my whole life. I mean, my whole house is a giant computer essentially,” you responded. “Could not even begin to explain to you how it works.”

“It’s complicated but it’s helpful right?” Eva asked lightheartedly. You nodded and she said, “I’ll be the first to admit I wouldn’t be able to keep up with how Mr. Stark talks about tech either. Could not even begin to fathom how his brain works. I swear he’s not speaking English sometimes when he’s giving presentations.”

You snorted, as did Steve. “I can attest to that,” Steve agreed. “I just let him lead when it comes to this type of stuff.”

You could relate to that. You let Tony lead in pretty much every facet.

“Same. It’s just easier to stand behind him,” you said. Steve’s brow creased at your comment and you suddenly felt uncomfortable. Trying to draw attention away from it, you gestured at the box. “May I?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve said, handing it over to you.

You opened the box and touched the odd shaped metal. “Definitely doesn’t look like normal batteries.”

“Nope,” Eva agreed.

Steve was looking at you with purpose when you handed the box back to him. His gaze slid to Eva and he asked, “Do you have some time?”

“For what, Mr. Rogers?”

“A small tour. Mrs. Stark hasn’t been able to see around the building because Tony has been busy, and a little explanation of some things down here might scratch her itch?” Steve looked at you for approval. “I mean, if you want that, of course.”

Excitement flared up and you nodded, “Yeah. I probably have time. Especially if there’s things to look at that won’t put me in a ‘we can show you but then we will have to kill you’ type of spot.”

Eva laughed at that. “There’s some of that available, yes.” She gestured past the desk behind her. “Shall we?”

Steve held out his arm to you and you took it appreciatively.

Eva started at a microchip, explaining it had the startings of being able to upload a personality to a robot to mimic a sentient being.

“So, like Vision?” you asked.

“Yes. Like Vision. But definitely nowhere near as advanced or powerful as he is. This is… it would be like a bodyguard for example?”

“A nanny for the baby when you need a break?” Steve joked quietly into your ear. You looked at him perplexed at the admission he knew and his smile fell. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—Tony told the team. I’m sorry if it was still supposed to be a secret?”

You waved it off quickly. “It’s fine. It’s you guys he told. You’re not nobodies.”

Though you did dislike that Tony was being so free with the information. You were only about two months along. He was getting too excited about it too soon whereas you were worried, your pessimism getting the better of you.

“And I’m sure I’ll need a break,” you joked back to Steve and he relaxed as the two of you followed Eva, her pointing things out that she could share.

You were so engrossed in what she was saying you only saw Tony’s reflection in the glass wall behind her at the last second.

You turned your head quickly and said innocently, “You’re done upstairs, then?”

“Rogers,” Tony said tightly, his eyes shooting to your arms intertwined before snapping back to Steve’s face. He looked very suspicious; you knew that look. Jealousy.

“Tony,” Steve returned, and he gracefully let your arm fall. He held up the box, “Thanks for the battery replacement. And the reminder to come grab it. I definitely would have forgotten without it.”

Tony by stepped his last comments. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Sure,” Steve said, tossing Eva a look. He held up the box to her now and said, “Thanks for being so prompt with this. It was helpful. And thanks for the walk.”

<><><>

When they were out of earshot, Tony told him firmly in hushed tones, “I’m not sure why you thought it was appropriate but don’t bring Y/N down here in the future.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know she wasn’t allowed until we were already down here,” Steve said and he saw Tony frown deeply. “She did say you didn’t wanna show her around the building after we came down here and I did ask if she thought she should be down here at all. Figured to just keep her close until we went back upstairs.”

“No, she shouldn’t be down here. I don’t want her knowing anything. Puts her at risk, knowledge. Kidnappings and whatnot.”

“I think being married to you, Tony, is what puts her at risk for that.”

Tony’s closed lipped smile did not reach his eyes; he was not amused with Steve’s quip.

“Regardless, for the future, don’t let the curiosity kill the cat. She’s better off naïve about it. Even if she’s learning on the arm of America’s golden boy.”

Silence ate away at the two of them for a few moments before Steve shrugged, relenting. He said stoically, “Understood.”

“Good,” Tony clipped. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my wife and I have lunch plans and I fear I’ve kept her waiting for far too long.”

Steve shook his head as soon as Tony brushed past him, leaving him by the elevator.

<><><>

You had thanked Eva before telling her she should probably go back to work now that the boss was in the room. She picked up on your joke but did it all the same. You paced slowly, watching carefully as Tony spoke with Steve. They were both tense and you sighed, knowing he was likely cursing Steve for assisting you down here. He really did not want you to know anything about most of his work whether it be here or out on the streets or in the political arena.

He came back to you and you gave him a smile, that he did not return.

“What were you doing down here?” he asked tightly, his hand coming to the small of your back and directing you back towards the elevator where he had left Steve who had already gone back up.

“Looking around,” you told him. “I was bored.”

“Do you not remember me telling you to not go poking around?”

“Yes, but I was curious.”

“It would make me happy if you would listen to me,” Tony said, nodding at one of his workers as he passed. “Don’t you wanna make me happy, kitten?”

“85 percent of the time,” you quipped, trying to get him to smile. But he still did not and your own slowly melted away as he responded.

“I think that sounds about right.”

There was something off about him, but you could not figure out what. You elected to stay quiet the rest of the stride to the elevator. He pressed the button to the elevator to come back down, his fingers on his other hand drawing lazy circles on the small of your back. Every so often though, his fingers dug in slightly and you did your best to not flinch away.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21, @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @kvzctam @farihafangirls, @teenageregression @mrsnegan25 @lilacs-lavender @agustdowney @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @emmariexx

[latefrequencies]

.

it all comes around to a handful of things I suppose.....Joy Division and Withnail and I. i pair those things really strongly in my mind. stronger than makes sense. i mean I don’t know the reason for it, I loved them both very very much during the exact same time. I was 19 and I promised not to kill myself until age 24 because Ian Curtis killed himself when he was 23 and I wanted to make it to 24 because he didn’t get to. I don’t even know why. It wasn’t even especially about him because I wasn’t. really? that interested in him as a person? When I say I had An Ian Curtis Thing it sounds like I was obsessed with him, but it really wasn’t like that, it was more about the music. I suppose I was making a promise to the mind behind the music. To the origin of the music. To the origin of what I loved. To the origin of this thing I loved very much and in which I was very emotionally invested and which kept me very together a great amount of the time. 

I am of course talking about Joy Division and not about Withnail and I. the culture surrounding that film is strange. I’m calling it strange because I can’t think of a better word for it. I saw people heavily caught up in the culture of that film and I’ve seen things end less than ideally for them. I was caught up in it but I got out of it okay but I think that’s because I was trying VERY hard not to have my benzo use become too much of a habit (and the things I was hurting myself with at the time, the pills I was taking as self harm, they were not psychoactive, I may have had some with DPH in it not knowing that’s what it was at the time and perhaps some things could be explained by that. anyway though whenever I talked about pills I was talking about things I was trying to fuck my liver with for the fuck of it.) Anyway it’s strange. It’s strange that I only developed serious substance habits the further I found myself emotionally from that film. If I could make an X and Y axis chart of “amount of emotional investment in Withnail and I” and “intensity of drug habit”, you’d find a negative correlation between the two. VERY strange. perhaps I’m really the strangest thing of all.

There’s that thing in Withnail and I where Marwood gets the haircut and it’s like a Very Important Moment, he’s not the guy he was at the start of this whole thing and he’s got the hair to prove it. During the time Sebastian Blake Stott was most into Withnail and I, during that time he’d point out to me that my hair looked like Marwood’s and he’d say I was the Withnail to his Marwood and it was very true, both things were. And then three or so years later I found a bottle of hair dye at the pharmacy while getting the prescription pills to which I’d become so very addicted and I took it home and I tried dyeing my hair teal and it was a disaster at first but I got the hang of it and I’ve never really gone back. There’s never been a time since then that my hair’s been fully unbleached or undyed. The possibility for Marwood hair was gone.

Four weeks after Sebastian died was when I got out of my abusive then-home, after he couldn’t get out of his. He had something he had wanted to tell me a few days before his death and it seemed like he meant to tell me of something positive, he seemed excited, but what it was I couldn’t have guessed. His partner at the time said that he’d confided that he thought there was no hope of recovery for him, and I wonder if he’d wanted to have told me the same. Was that what he was excited to tell me? Why the “Jude!!! There’s something I need to tell you, can you get on Skype right now???” for such a bleak announcement? Why was he like that? But a week or so later he died and I released a playlist on 8tracks based on Vyvian Withnail, the character whose first name I had taken as my middle name at the time as an homage - can’t even explain fully what to anymore other than perhaps You Know, Him - said something about wishing Seb’s ghost could hear it someplace. I don’t remember if I put a Joy Division song on there. I know I did for the Marwood playlist. I don’t know if Withnail got his own Joy Division song. Sebastian and I were both twenty when he died. A few months after his passing, I turned twenty-one. I didn’t drink that year.

Three years later impulse-buying hair dye wasn’t the actual end of my Marwood hair. That was when I got a haircut after leaving my father’s place, and it was going to be the same haircut I got each time after that, keeping it longer in the front and shorter in the back as opposed to having it the same length pretty much everywhere before. It could still MAYBE be re-Marwoodized. It wasn’t too terribly different. I could just let it grow back if I wanted, go through an awkward-looking phase, and either bring an old picture of myself or cut it myself based on the same, depending on whether this was “before I started doing my own hair” or “after I realized you don’t need to pay for haircuts”. The hair dye was just the part that sealed it, made sure the possibility really was gone.

For whatever unholy fucking reason, there are a large number of articles about Sebastian, deadnaming him and giving the narrative of his death that his mother wanted the world to hear. Don’t look them up but I suppose I can’t stop you. If they can say that publicly, I suspect it’s fine of me to say all of this. It’s barely anything I haven’t said before anyway.

It was a year ago that, age 25, I was at a local new wave tribute band show, a sentence that’s perhaps quite different from anything I’ve said thus far but was just what my life was like then. It was on June 21, a thing I only know because I remembered someone mentioning in passing that this happened to be the longest day of the year. I’d been looking forward to it all year because there was a Joy Division tribute band and I think I had both a patch AND a pin of Joy Division on the jacket I’d made a year prior that I now wore to everything. It was exciting and everyone knew it was exciting because it was Joy Division, it was songs I hadn’t thought I’d ever hear performed live ever. I went sober, something I’d found was a more fun way to enjoy your life music, the Joy Division band went on first. The singer’s impression of Ian Curtis’s dancing was accurate and tasteful and I was surprised when I spoke to him after the show and found out he’d only been with them for the past two weeks. 

“I was really excited to hear you guys do that music because I’ve loved Joy Division for a very long time,” I told the guy, and eventually it turned to the significance of the music for me, how when I was 19, I said I’d wait to die til 24, because this man had killed himself at 23, and now here I was at 25, and the guy had something of a “holy shit” look on his face at some point. I don’t remember the exact detail, maybe it was how young I was (the attendees of those shows tended to be at least a decade my senior), how young I was when I so wanted to die, how young I still was now, how young it made Ian Curtis when he did it, how young anyone can be, how young I am now still wanting to do it every so often because no matter what’s right in my life I can somehow never be rid of what’s wrong. In a weird way I think he felt validation. He mentioned again he’d been fearing he’d fuck up the show but no he was getting a response like this, he had no cause to doubt his performance. I never saw his band again, but I heard of some show performed on I think it was the birthday of someone from the scene who’d since passed, in honor of that person, and Joy Revision was on the bill. I bet the band did well. 

[wigwurq]

WIG REVIEW: THE QUEEN’S GAMBIT

Yes it’s true - the only things I’ve been watching lately are prestige TV shows starring women with bad red wigs. I’ll get back to movies someday!! In the meantime, I finally watched all of this miniseries that has Netflix and the world aflame with love - and I am aflame too....WITH HATRED OF ALL OF THESE WIGS!!! I have so much to discuss with this show, y’all. A friend of mine (who hasn’t watched this show yet) probably said it best when he told me he thought the wigs in this show were supposed to be wigs WITHIN the narrative of the show (and therefore allowed to be bad): “wait I thought this was about a chess spy - that’s supposed to be her real hair? NO” INDEED!!! Let’s take it episode by episode (SPOILERS ABOUND) and DISCUSS.

Episode 1 - Openings

We begin in Paris, 1967. Beth Harmon, chess champion (?) awakens in a bath of ice (?) in the dark of her hotel room, clearly hung over or maybe still drunk. Her red ‘60s flip wig looks like HELL as does she, so...ok I guess this bad wig wurqs...for now. She sits herself down to play CHESS!! This whole show is about chess, obviously, and everyone is just mad about chess now! I am mad, too, because the show does not make chess seem interesting or sexy and I still hate it. 

Anyway, we rewind about 10 (?) years to a young Beth Harmon, who is suddenly orphaned after her mom definitely commits suicide via car accident. Her mom has super short bangs and cries a lot. We see some even further flashbacks to an even younger Beth IN THE MOST OUTRAGEOUS BABY WIG (MORE ON THAT LATER). We learn that her mom is very unhinged, but also probably brilliant, as Beth herself will become later. LET’S HOPE SHE NEVER GETS HER DRIVER’S LICENCE (note: she never does?)

Apparently the mid to late ‘50s were all about very VERY short bangs, and on this non-wigged little girl I guess that is fine.

BUT THEN! She is brought to an orphanage where they burn her old clothes (YES REALLY!) and cut her hair into a bob (the kid’s actual hair so again - ok!) and also give her and all the other girls constant drugs! The 1950s were really wild, amiright? If I have learned anything from movies set at orphanages in the 50s, drug abuse was the main issue (the only movie I’m referring to is obviously The Cider House Rules and the only thing I remember about that movie is that Michael Caine had an ether addiction). Anyway, the sedative drugs make her immediately put her hand on a hot radiator (safety first, orphanage!) 

She also makes friends with an older girl named Jolene (I LOVE THE NAME) who teachers her to save the sedative drugs for nighttime when they can help her sleep. Great advice, Jolene! Also: there is absolutely no way that African American Jolene would be in an integrated orphanage in mid-50s KENTUCKY but this is just the beginning of issues I have with this series......

Moving on! In avoiding the orphanage’s weird insistence on Jesusy choir practice, she discovers the basement realm of janitor Bill Camp, who never actually does any janitorial work (that I could see?) but definitely plays a lot of chess. And thus, her chess obsession begins! This is also helped by those sedatives she takes every night which give her really absurd chess hallucinations on the ceiling. This orphanage has it all!

Essentially, this miniseries is Valley of the Dolls if those characters got addicted to both pills and chess at the age of 9. Beth gets very VERY good at chess and some rando chess guy from the local high school comes and gives Beth a doll (BETH HATES THE DOLL BUT LOVES DOLLS DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE). And she goes to the high school and plays a bunch of terrible high school boys at chess simultaneously and beats them all. Also: the orphanage suddenly gets in trouble for giving sedatives to small children for years and Beth is PISSED. She goes through withdrawal and years for the big ol’ jar o’ pills!!!

AND THEN! During a kind of Jesusy film presentation, Beth sneaks away to the orphanage pharmacy and just goes hog wild on the pills! TRULY: Valley of the Dolls has nothing on this sequence. 

Obviously, Beth is caught pill-handed and she also spills all the pills, breaks a giant glass jar, and then falls onto both of them. SHE IS 9. I THINK I LOVE THIS SHOW.

Episode 2: Exchanges

So after Beth’s completely insane pill odyssey, she is punished by being forbidden to play chess! Fast forward an indeterminate number of years, and we meet a slightly older Beth (now played by the bewigged Anya Taylor-Joy). AND THIS WIG, Y’ALL. WOOF. Completely dried out and bent, it really makes you appreciate the fact that they just cut the younger Beth’s hair. I realize that Anya is going to go through many 50s and 60s hairstyles to come but I really wish they had just done the same and used her real hair because we are about to take a bad wig odyssey that will last throughout this series. Also! I love that Jolene is played by the same actress! How old is too old to be in an orphanage?

Speaking of age! Beth is apparently now 15 but when a super weird couple expresses interest in adopting her, the orphanage director lady lies and says Beth is 13 and everyone just goes with it....FOR THE REST OF THE SERIES. Seriously, this age difference is never ever visited again or challenged. Beth is basically 15-17 for at least 5 years and no one gives a shit. OK? Anyway, Beth is adopted by Marielle friggin Heller (aka director of Can You Ever Forgive Me? and A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood) who has a very Mamie Eisenhower wig which is just fine compared to the bent and dry-ass mess on Anya’s head.

It is later revealed that Marielle adopted Beth because her husband is mainly away on business and she needs an older gal pal around to fetch her....sedatives from the magazine store! I wonder if Beth will totally get addicted to them again! I’m no chess player but you can absolutely predict plot devices in this series about two pawns away (is that a chess term? I still don’t know or care!) 

So yes: as predicted Beth absolutely gets addicted to sedatives again (also the specific sedatives she gets addicted to are the exact same ones she was addicted to at the orphanage - WHAT A COINCIDENCE! - and also they are made up sedatives for the purposes of this show only in case we all want to get the same magical chess sedatives and see chess on the ceiling too). ALSO! Beth is still mainly addicted to chess despite the fact that she was permitted from playing it for the last 5-7 years (depending on what version of her age you’re going on?) but still is good at it? Most upsetting: she rips apart her lovely bed canopy in order to see her ceiling chess hallucinations! THE NERVE OF THIS KID!

Also nervy: bitch totally stole chess magazines from the pharmacy when she was also stealing sedatives from her adoptive mom! Kleptomania is Beth’s #3 addiction after chess and pills also comes into play when it is revealed that her new adoptive mom is kinda poor since her husband is away all the time and doesn’t give her enough money so Beth can’t enter those chess tournaments she read about in the magazines she stole. SO she writes to janitor Bill Camp and asks for $5 to enter the chess thing and if she wins she’ll send him $10. THIS IS A VERY IMPORTANT PLOT POINT WHICH WILL COME INTO PLAY LATER. So Beth goes to the chess tournament where she meets some not handsome twin dudes and a very handsome other dude named Townes.

Basically all the chess dudes at this tourney suck in the same way? To be fair: if I saw Beth walking up in her ugly orphanage clothes and orphanage cut wig, I would think she sucked at chess too? Oh also - all the girls at her new high school also think her style sucks. I WONDER IF IN COMING EPISODES SHE WILL GAIN MORE STYLE AND CHESS FAME THAN ALL THESE GARBAGE PEOPLE. Spoiler: she does and also beats this dude named Harry and becomes the Kentucky chess champion. Also! Beth’s adoptive dad totally abandons her and Marielle Heller!  I still hate chess but will continue to watch this show because of its haunting wigs and lowgrade feminist vibe.

Episode 3: Doubled Pawns

This episode begins with a flashback to Beth’s shitty birth mother and her shitty banged wig and remember that time I said I was going to talk about the wig on the littlest girl who plays her? WELL HERE WE ARE. Baby Beth has the absolute WORST WIG ON THIS SHOW and given how terrible all the wigs are, that is saying a lot. This wig looks like it was ripped off an American Girl doll which had been mistreated for years and thrown of a jungle gym or something. IT IS THE ABSOLUTE WORST (as is her mom, who makes this poor kid believe she had drowned!!!) 

ANYWAY. We get a new wig in this episode!!! Beth manages to grow out her orphanage bangs and allow her hair to have a 50s wave bob. Do not be fooled by the higher quality of this cut, however - the quality of the WIG continues to very much suck! WHAT IS THIS HAIR PART! No hair underneath! And everything is still a dried out, bent mess! ALSO HER ROOTS ARE A NIGHTMARE. This is also the episode wherein Marielle Heller basically becomes Mama Rose to Beth and really gets into Beth supporting both of them via chess winnings and becomes her chess manager (ACTUAL JOB TITLE). Also Beth gets nicer clothing. Hilariously, Marielle tells Beth’s high school that Beth is just constantly sick so she can skip school to go to chess tournaments even though Beth is straight up on the cover of Life magazine?! I wonder if this will at all come to the attention of the high school - IT DOESN’T! PLOT HOLES BE DAMNED THIS SHOW IS ABOUT CHESS! She does go to high school long enough for the snobby girls who once made fun of her to invite her to the dumbest party ever where they just sit around and ask Beth dumb questions about Chess fame and then all have a sing-along to a song Beth doesn’t know because she has no idea what pop culture is: ONLY CHESS CULTURE. I watched this show with my mom and asked if ‘60s parties were like this and she laughed her head off and said NO. ALSO! Beth’s kleptomania comes into play at this party where she steals a bottle of gin and leaves without saying goodbye to anyone. WHAT A BITCH.

Speaking of bitches, Beth meets a new chess diva in the form of Love Actually’s resident child drum prodigy! He has a character name but whatever: Love Actually is his name and he has longish shaggy (non wigged) hair and dresses like Crocodile Dundee and is loved and feared in the chess community for being such a non-nerd (?) chess player. I asked my mom if anyone dressed like this in the ‘60s and she said “NO! But I guess I didn’t know everyone” WHICH IS A GREAT ANSWER BECAUSE MY MOM DIDN’T RUN IN WEIRD CHESS CIRCLES IN THE ‘60s. We are lead to believe the ‘60s chess community of weirdos consists of the same 5 rotating dudes who are all at the same chess tournaments always and also possible love interests for Beth and she’s better at chess than all of them.

The only weirdo chess dude that Beth cares about is Townes, who you may recall from the last episode in which he was the only attractive chess dude at that first chess tournament Beth went to with borrowed Bill Camp money. Anyway, she runs into him at some chess tournament (LIKE I REMEMBER WHICH ONE PLEASE) in Las Vegas where he is now a chess reporter (ACTUAL 1960s JOB, Y’ALL). He invites Beth back to his hotel boudoir where he takes some non-boudoir pictures of her playing chess and Beth is all aflutter with chess love but SUCK IT BETH, TOWNES IS GAY!!! I have to say that the only believable part of this show is that the only attractive chess dude would be homosexual. It still does not forgive any of the other plot nonsense.

SO! It’s still the big Vegas chess tournament which is super duper important-chess wise (though this show also makes it seem like every chess game IS THE MOST IMPORTANT so who is to say?) Anyway, Beth and her 50s wave wig (even though it is the 60s?) play Love Actually and....they both win? I didn’t know this was a chess pastability but ok? Beth is pissed that she didn’t beat Love Actually, I hope I never have to see him again (SPOILER HE’S IN MANY MORE EPISODES AND HAD I KNOWN THAT MAYBE I WOULD HAVE STOPPED WATCHING NOW BUT I DIDN’T!) 

Episode 4: Middle Game

We are still stuck with this weird ‘50s bob in this episode. IT STILL LOOKS BAD. New developments are: Beth is taking night classes at the local college (even though she is technically still in high school?) in order to learn Russian to better understand people who are more obsessed with chess than she is: Russians. Anyway, he ends up going to the most wild and stereotypical hippie party with a college dude after class and yep - loses her virginity to him. Ok? At least it wasn’t to a chess weirdo? She also stays behind and parties and drinks alone in the hippie apartment because of all her substance addiction and kleptomania. Also! She graduates from high school despite being 2 years too old for high school (a plot point never explained) and missing all that high school for chess tourneys (another plot point never explained!) OH WELL: CHESS! 

Beth and Marielle go to Mexico City for some chess tournament (AGAIN I COULDN’T TELL YOU WHICH ONE). Marielle is excited because she is pen pals (OMG THE 60s Y’ALL) with some Mexican weirdo who I definitely feared would steal all the chess winnings but then ultimately just sucks in the same way the adoptive dad did. Beth also runs into those chess twin weirdos because the chess community is comprised of only 5 dudes as I said. Their hair looks bad but not as bad as her wig. 

Beth doesn’t see much of Mexico City - nor do we unless you count a truly outrageous sequence in which Beth and Marielle go out on their hotel balcony and look into a green screen rendering of Mexico City that would have felt at home in CGI ghostmare, Bohemian Rhapsody. Anyway, Beth and her olde timey 1950s wig which is spending way too much time in the 60s even though she’s supposed to be stylish now, take a lot of chess baths while Marielle drinks a lot because that Mexican pen pal/boyfriend sucks so bad.

So Beth wins enough chess to play Borgov, who we are led to believe is the Russian white whale/Bond villain of the chess community and LOSES! She is pretty pissed about it but not as pissed as...

....coming back to the hotel room to discover Marielle Heller and her luscious Mamie Eisenhower wig DEAD. TWICE AN ORPHAN, Y’ALL. Mexican coroners tell Beth that her mom died of hepatitis (!!!) and Beth somehow implicates low quality tequila in this hepatitis death. I LEGITIMATELY GOOGLED ‘DOES TEQUILA GIVE YOU HEPATITIS’ IMMEDIATELY. I DON’T THINK IT DOES?!?!?! THIS SHOW IS ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS AND YES I WILL CONTINUE WATCHING IT DESPITE THE TERRIBLE WIGS AND MY HATRED OF CHESS.

Episode 5: Fork

Beth returns to Kentucky IN THE RAIN BECAUSE TV AND MOVIE DEATHS ARE ALWAYS ACCOMPANIED BY RAIN. She is about to be super lonely in the house she know owns (according to a super sketchy international phone call with her adoptive father which will definitely not hold up in court) and then...she gets a call from Harry! WHO THE EFF IS HARRY! Again, luckily, there are only 5 chess guys who need to remember and he is one of them (he is the one she beat for the Kentucky chess whatever in episode 2). She invites him over because she’s lonely!

Harry is definitely the saddest of the weirdo chess dudes because apparently he’s been harboring a secret love of Beth (who at the time of their first meeting was like 13-15 depending on what timeline you’re going on and he was...20? OK GROSS BUT OK). BITCH EVEN GOT HIS WEIRD TEETH FIXED SO HE COULD BE LOVED BY BETH AND HER BENT ASS WIG AND SERIOUSLY NO THANK YOU HARRY. Regardless, Beth lets Harry have sex with her a few times and live rent-free in her house and ultimately Harry gets enough self confidence to leave this effed up living situation since he will never be one of Beth’s obsessions (which are still: chess, pills/alcohol, stealing shit). 

So Beth goes to Ohio for some other chess tournament and reunites with UGH Love Actually. At this point in the show, Beth starts wearing long scarves as headbands and her wig has never looked better because most of it is covered by the scarf. THANK GOD. So Love Actually totally chess hustles Beth for a lot of coin playing speed chess (DEAR GOD WHY HAVE I BEEN FORCED TO LEARN WHAT SPEED CHESS IS) but in the end, she still beats him for the chess title. EFF YOU, Love Actually! May I never see you again! OH SHIT HE JUST INVITED HER TO  NEW YORK TO TRAIN HER FOR THE PARIS CHESS THING DEAR GOD WHY IS THERE SO MUCH LOVE ACTUALLY IN THIS SHOW OK FINE I’LL STILL WATCH IT.

Episode 6 - Adjournment

Ok so Beth and her ok wig that is mainly covered by a scarf go to Love Actually’s apartment in NYC which IS AN UNDERGROUND BUNKER AND SHE HAS TO SLEEP ON A BLOW UP MATTRESS. Again and for the millionth time: Love Actually is the worst! Especially the worst because he introduces her to all these rando bohemians he knows, including some French bitch who will definitely eff everything up when Beth is already teetering on her pill/alcohol obsession and should probably not meet any other enablers. Somehow, he does get her to quit the pills/alcohol long enough to have sex with him (UGH).

And so we are in Paris, 1967. Where we started the show with Beth’s awful 60s flip! AND WE MEET ANOTHER PLOTHOLE. Only a week before this, Beth was in NYC with hair about 3″ shorter and still wearing scarves in her hair. WHAT IN THE VERY HELL, SHOW! I realize that this show has a very vague sense of time or how old Beth is or whatever but truly: NOPE. 

Anyway, it’s the night before the big match against Borgov and Beth is on her very best behavior when who should ring her up but that French bitch Love Actually introduced her to! She is downstairs at the hotel bar and just come down and have one drink and don’t ruin your entire chess career, mmmkay? THIS ENABLING BITCH!!!! NEVER TRUST ANYONE WITH THIS CRYING GAME WIG UNLESS YOU WANT YOUR LIFE TO BE A CRYING GAME. Of course, Beth goes downstairs, drinks every drink in the bar, has sex with some rando French dude and...wakes up in the icebath we see at the beginning of the show and sweatily plays Borgov in her wig that has never looked frizzier, loses, and is shamed from the entire chess community. Also Love Actually wants Beth to come back to NYC but NO THANK YOU TO YOU AND YOUR BUNKER OF ENABLERS.

Back in Kentucky, Beth....is shown learning how to flip her hair. WAIT WHAT SHE ALREADY HAD A FLIP HAIRSTYLE THE ENTIRE TIME IN PARIS WHAT KIND OF WIG GASLIGHTING ARE YOU PLAYING, SHOW?!?!?!??!?!?!!

UGH anyway, with THE EXACT SAME FLIP WIG AS WE’VE SEEN HER IN, Beth tries to be a responsible young person of indeterminate age who owns a house in Kentucky and not drink or take pills or steal shit. EXCEPT remember that time her adoptive dad said she could just have the house if she paid the mortgage? WELL BITCH SHOWS UP AND J’ACCUSES HER OF STEALING THE HOUSE FROM HIM. Which is hilarious because of all the things she stolen in this show, the house wasn’t one of them. In any case, she buys the house! And takes herself out to dinner! And has a drink! AND UH OH.

At this point the show just goes completely off the rails in addictive nonsense. Beth just goes around the house in her terrible flip wig applying makeup and barfing in to chess trophies. It’s every stereotypical drug/alcohol scene from every biopic ever except this chick doesn’t really exist and this show is wearing on my nerves and Beth has to stop making so many terrible live decisions and this wig has BETTER GET BETTER.

And then magically - Jolene shows up in the most fabulous afro wig!! WHAT! OK I WILL WATCH THE BITTER CONCLUSION OF THIS SERIES BECAUSE I LOVE JOLENE.

Episode 7: End Game

Jolene...Jolene....Jolene. Jolene. I love Jolene. I don’t love that this show uses her by making her be the “magical negro” trope who helps Beth get her life back together. Predictable nonsense! So yes, Jolene looks around Beth’s ramshackle drug den and tells her to get her life back together. AND THEN BETH DOES. No AA or rehab required! WHAT! I really appreciate that Jolene also compares her to Susan Hayward (star of Valley of the Dolls!) which is the sick burn/comparison I needed. 

The other reason Jolene showed up was to bring Beth to janitor Bill Camp’s funeral. At the funeral, which is very poorly attended, Beth reveals THAT SHE NEVER PAID BILL CAMP THAT $5 HE LENT HER (AND $10 SHE PROMISED HIM) AT THE BEGINNING OF HER CHESS CAREER. WHAT A PIECE OF SHIT. It is at this point that I fully decided that I wanted Beth to fail at everything because she is a garbage person who never gave propers to Bill Camp for changing her life for the better. THIS BITCH!! She even goes back to the orphanage where she discovers Bill Camp’s CHESS SHRINE DEVOTED TO HER! SHE FEELS LIKE SHIT AS WELL SHE SHOULD! I FULLY HATE HER!!!!

Jolene is much more forgiving of Beth than me and also introduces Beth to a new obsession: squash! Ok? It does allow Beth to wear a headband which is great wig-wise (in that it hides all the seamwork). Beth also turns down these Jesusy people who want to fund her chess trip to Russia and so Jolene GIVES HER $3,000 TO GO TO RUSSIA. IF THERE IS ANYTHING I’VE LEARNED IN THE LAST 5 MINUTES OF THIS SHOW IT IS THAT BETH WILL NOT PAY THAT MONEY BACK AND JOLENE PLEASE DO NOT!!!!

Jolene does. Beth goes to Russia which is straight out of every Bond movie and gets her shit together and wins a lot of damn chess. 

Though her midweight coat game rivals that of Nicole Kidman in The Undoing, her wig game ALSO RIVALS THAT OF NICOLE KIDMAN IN THE UNDOING IN THAT IT IS ALSO A RED NIGHTMARE WIG. This show spent so much goddamned money on clothes, sets, and CGI greenscreens of Mexico City AND YET NO MONEY FOR WIGS. BOO.

I did enjoy this one chess opponent’s walrus hair but otherwise, Beth’s flip wig has absolutely overstayed its welcome and is a compete and utter bent nightmare. Also! Remember that one hot chess dude? He shows up and helps Beth with Chess!! HUH?

Also every single weirdo in the chess community somehow form a chess calming circle in Love Actually’s bunker apartment and call Beth internationally to help her win against Borgov at chess! WHAT IN THE DAMN HELL? It is sweet I guess, but also makes ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING SENSE AS BETH WAS A TOTAL ASSHOLE TO ALL THESE PEOPLE AND DOES NOT DESERVE TO BE A PART OF THEIR WEIRD CHESS GANG.

Ultimately, Beth beats Borgov and wears THIS FUCKING HAT. I think we’re supposed to believe that she is now the white queen chess piece (I HATE THAT I NOW KNOW CHESS PIECES).

She is actually dressed in head to toe white and somehow convinces her American handler that she will just walk...to the airport? And despite being invited to the Johnson White House (girl go there!) would rather just wander the streets of Russia without any purse or luggage or way of getting home. THIS BITCH. She finds a new chess community of old men who play chess outside at folding tables and decides to join them WITHOUT GOING HOME TO PAY JOLENE ALL HER MONEY BACK WHICH IS ABSOLUTELY WHAT SHE SHOULD BE THINKING ABOUT AND ALSO MAYBE SETTING UP A BILL CAMP CHESS FOUNDATION BECAUSE YOU NEVER PAID HIM BACK YOU PIECE OF SHIT. No, she is no longer addicted to pills, alcohol, or stealing but is absolutely addicted to chess on a level that is probably lethal. I spent the last moments of the show demanding that the Russian chess hobos murder her and her immaculate white outfit because BETH IS A SELFISH ASSHOLE AND ALL HER WIGS ARE GARBAGE LIKE HER!!!!

VERDICT: DOESN’T WURQ

[reckoningss]

Mercy Springs - Two

Summary: Mercy Booker holds these truths to be self-evident: that animals are significantly more relatable than people, and that working as a veterinary tech in a sleepy, little town is about as exciting as her life is going to get. When a strange man shows up after hours with an injured dog, she has a decision to make - go on living the quiet life she’s come to know, or open the door to the exhilarating unknown.

Pairing: Pete Castiglione/Frank Castle x OC (Mercy Booker)

Warnings: Allusions to violence, Mild descriptions of blood

Wordcount: 1.5k

A/N:

“I need help.”

Mercy blinked, somewhat surprised that she could hear anything above the blood rushing in her ears and the rain pounding the roof and windows. The man on the other side of the door shuffled to balance the dog in one arm and banged a palm against the glass again. She flinched. 

“Please. He needs help.”

He was at least six feet tall and - if Mercy had to guess - lean and muscled beneath the layers of his cold weather clothing. His hair was black, clumps of it mussed and matted from the rain. Blood dappled his face and dripped from a wound over his left eyebrow. He had dark features, she noticed, a strong angular face. One that looks like it can take a beating, she thought. It wouldn’t be difficult for him to overpower her. 

Against her own will, Mercy’s eyes flickered down to the dog. Its side rose and fell weakly, breathing labored. Its mouth hung open, pink tongue lolling out, long and dry. Its short, grey fur sported intricate patterns of dried blood but she could see more - fresh blood - dripping down onto the man’s shoes. Her heart twinged.  Only a truly sick person would hurt a dog this badly to get at her, but she couldn’t discount the possibility. Either way, she wouldn’t just let an innocent animal suffer.

Not taking her eyes off of them, Mercy crouched down to retrieve the dropped keyring. She carefully fitted several keys between her fingers so they splayed menacingly below her knuckles. Then she unlocked the door. Before he could push his way in, she wedged one sneakered foot against its base only allowing an inch of space between the door and the jam. The man stopped in his tracks, eyeing Mercy impatiently. 

“If you try anything,” she spat, “I’ll slit your throat and feed you to the dogs.” 

For a second, the man looked kind of appalled. It didn’t last long. He shrugged and shouldered past her into the lobby, dripping blood across the newly mopped floor. “Fair enough.”

“Through there.” Mercy followed the stranger into a dark exam room and flipped the light switch. The fluorescents overhead hummed to vivid life, and Mercy had to take a moment for her eyes to adjust. 

The man turned toward her, the dog still cradled in his arms, his eyes wide with alarm, blood and water pattering quietly on the floor.

“Lay him on the table.”  He did as she instructed, gently transferring the dog to the pristine exam table. then whirling toward her, palms blood-stained and upturned. “Don’t come any closer!” Mercy brandished her makeshift brass knuckles in warning. “Go over there and wash your hands then go into the second drawer and soak three rags with warm water.” 

As he washed up, Mercy crammed the keys back into her pockets and pulled on a pair of latex gloves. She approached the dog and offered a stretch of her forearm for it to sniff weakly before she began looking for wounds. 

The stranger slapped a pile of wet rags down onto the edge of the table. Mercy picked one up and started wiping blood from the dog’s fur. 

“We need to talk, Mister...”

“Pete.” He bit the name out, refusing to offer more. Mercy took it in stride. 

“Ok, Pete, I need to know what happened. Where’s he hurt?” 

Pete’s fingers flexed uneasily against the metal of the table. “He was stabbed. Somewhere around the shoulder, I think.” 

A feeble growl indicated to Mercy that she’d found it. The dog’s lip curled back from his teeth and he rumbled low. She pointed to a nearby cabinet without looking. “Go into the top drawer and grab an irrigation bottle. It’ll say ‘Saline Wound Solution’.” 

He placed it down beside her elbow and she picked it up, fitting a nozzle top onto the lid quickly. Mercy squirted solution into the wound to clear away some of the blood. 

“I can’t put him under, Pete, we keep meticulous inventory logs. My boss will notice if we lose that kind of juice.” 

Pete shook his head violently. “No. No drugs. He doesn’t need to go under.”

Mercy nodded. “I can give him a little something for the pain. Anything I should know about? Kidney disease, liver disease, low blood sugar?” 

“No.”

“Good.” 

Reaching over into a rollaway cabinet, Mercy retrieved an amber bottle of liquid and a new syringe. She unsheathed the syringe with her teeth then plunged it into the top of the bottle and extracted several CCs of liquid. 

“This is a localized anesthetic. It’ll cause numbness to this area only.” 

Pete nodded in understanding and Mercy stabbed the needle into the dog’s shoulder and pushed down the plunger. 

“What’s his name?”

“Hm?”

“His name, Pete, what’s he go by?”

“Uhh, Max.” 

Mercy turned her attention back to the dog and stroked his damp fur. “Ok, Max, this isn’t going to be super great, but we’re going to get through it.” 

Max’s hazel eyes flicked up to her at the sound of his name. His tail thumped the table once. The memory of a smile flickered across Mercy’s face. “Ok.”

Mercy was very proud of her sutures; she always had been. Not that there were many chances for her to practice them in her current position, being a vet tech she didn’t get many opportunities for precision procedures. She almost wished she could take a picture to show to Dr. Leibowitz as she tied off her last stitch and cut the synthetic thread. 

She sighed, leaning back against the counter behind her and throwing the remaining thread and needle into the trash. “All done.” If she’d thought she was tired before, she was practically catatonic now. 

Pete whistled a low, appreciative note and sauntered over to the table. He ran a large hand over Max’s side. “Look at that, buddy, like brand new.”

Mercy felt a thrill of pride at that. The sutures followed one, clean line through the center of an expertly shaved patch of grey skin. Mercy stripped off her gloves and crossed over to the back of the exam room. 

“He’s gonna want to nip at those when he’s feeling better so you’re going to need to keep this on him for a few weeks at least.” Her voice decreased in volume as she stepped into the back hallway and ambled down to the storage room. She selected an appropriately sized cone from a shelf. Returning to the exam room, she pantomimed putting the cone together for Pete who was doing his best to look unimpressed. “And I’ll spot you a few tablets of meloxicam for the pain. But only a few and follow the instructions to a T. Follow me this way.”

Pete trailed her into the front hallway this time and down to the small pharmacy room where Mercy selected the stubby key to the medicine cabinet. 

“Look, Dr., you don’t have to do this. He doesn’t need the pills,” Pete muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

Mercy ignored the way he scuffed his feet against the linoleum, leaving black rubber streaks behind, and shook four tablets out of a bottle and placed them in a small baggie. She took a small folded instruction pamphlet from the door and slipped it into the back before zipping it up. The bag was promptly (and forcefully) shoved into Pete’s hoodie pocket, an act that seemed to catch him off guard for a moment.

Mercy grinned sheepishly at his incredulous expression. She got that look a lot. “My dog had an accident a few months back, but I never refilled her prescription. I’ll take care of it.” 

The two made their way back to the operating room in silence - shuffling sneaker tread and the plastic crinkle of the baggie their only accompaniment. Max was half up on the table when they made it back, strong neck craned to look for his owner. Mercy was relieved to see some excitement back in his eyes. Pete slid the folded cone beneath his arm and then, seemed to have a thought. He dug back into his pocket and pulled out a wad of crumpled bills. 

Mercy shook her head before he could separate them. “Forget it. It’s after hours.”

“You su-” 

“Yeah. I would’ve helped him anyway.” 

Frank nodded. Something in his expression saying, I respect that. Carefully, he scooped Max up from the table. Mercy followed him to the door, her mind whirling all the while. She would have to check the tapes and try to erase any trace of Pete and Max. Maybe she could say the storm interfered with the CCTV. A new scrip would need to be written up to account for the missing pain meds. Frank turned back toward her beneath the little awning over the doorway; the rain hadn’t stopped, but it had softened a bit.

“Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.”

Only after Pete loaded Max and himself into a beat-up box van and rolled out of the parking lot did Mercy lock the door and press her weary back to it. And only then did she realize that the entire clinic would need to be cleaned again. She groaned.

It was going to be a long night. 

[grownups-are-the-real-monsters]

Heartache Tonight - The Kids Are Alright

Summary: “Somebody's gonna hurt someone before the night is through...”

Another one shot in the ‘Kids Are Alright’ Series

Words: 2,144

{Derry, Maine. June 28th, 1976. 12:47 P.M. Beverly’s room}

“Just squint your eyes and focus between your fingers…”

Beverly did as she was instructed, she focused on the white wall of space between her fingers on her outstretched hand. The world became fuzzy and blurred but outlining her hand was a thin line of color. She blinked, eyes back to normal as she hunched her shoulders to laugh. Her red ponytail falling loosely onto her shoulder. “Purple. My aura is purple.” She grinned.

Stan grinned at her from his seat on her bean bag chair. Richie held out his own hand and shrugged. “Mine’s still red.” He frowned with a look of suspicion. However Beverly grinned, reaching out to shake his thigh.

“What does purple mean?” She asked, eager to hear the answer. Richie shrugged, pushing up his glasses.

“Dunno.” He smiled and Beverly scoffed. 

“You mean to tell me that I did that for nothing?” She rolled her eyes and Stan crossed his legs to bring them up on the bean bag chair. The blob of green melded to his body shape and allowed perfect comfort. He wiggled a little in the new spot and tilted his head. 

There was an unspoken sort of tension in the room they were all separately aware of. Beverly frowned deeply and played with a loose thread on her jeans. “You wanna know about the date I had the other day, huh?” her voice, accusatory, carried loudly throughout the room. “I assume Richie blabbed to you, Stan?” 

The man in question shrunk back and picked at the rubber of his shoes. “Oh I dunno. I knew something was up without him having to tell me, I’m intuitive like that, y’know? I like to think I’m psychic too-” 

“Shut-up, Stanley.” Beverly laughed lightly to let him know not to take offense. But she had to stop his rambling before it went on forever like they all knew it would. “I wanna let you know right off the bat that it sucked. I sucked. And I would not like to discuss it further, ok? I’m gonna go make some popcorn and we’re gonna move on from there.” 

Beverly, uncharacteristically, shut them down completely and rushed out of her own room. When the door lightly tapped the doorway behind her, Richie and Stan shared the same guilty look. They let themselves sit in silence until they could her the girl moving around downstairs. Instead of breaking it with words, Richie came over and sat near Stan’s feet and tapped lightly on his leg like a child. 

“Hmm?” Stan raised his brow though he knew this little routine. He gave the guy a kind smile and shrugged. “I’m sure she isn’t all that mad about you telling me, Rich. Don’t let that bother you.” 

He advised his friend knowing full well Richie could not handle his friends being mad at him very well. Terribly, actually. He sure did hope this wouldn’t be one of the worst. He scooted off the bean bag and sat in front of his best friend with a smile. “Want me to read your palm?” 

“Yes please!” Richie happily held out his hand with a giddy look on his face. 

                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is everyone having s-s-sex but me?” Bill asked abruptly, cutting the silence that had been going on for the past twenty minutes. He laid in the back of the Vista Cruiser that was parked in front of his house while Eddie shuffled through the radio for a good station. 

The question sent Eddie into fits of laughter for what seemed like five whole minutes. Bill rolled his eyes and sat up to face the back of his head. “Why are you laughing?” 

Eddie wiped at his eyes and turned back to face him, elbow resting on the next seat. “Partly because of how dumb that question is and partly because it’s funnier when you stutter it.” 

Bill lightly chuckled and punched the kid in the arm, who recoiled and rubbed the hurt area. “I’m serious, Eddie.” 

The other boy sighed and decided to take his best friend seriously. “First of all, really think about that question, huh?” 

Bill looked at him blankly in thought before shrugging, deciding it to be a valid question for some reason. 

“Sure, Stan’s got a girlfriend but there’s no way that’s happened for them yet.” Eddie began his long answer that he hadn’t been prepared to have to explain. “Mike and Beverly barely talk to anyone besides us and last I checked neither of them have had sex with any of us.” He paused at his own little joke and chuckled. Bill did not seem even lightly amused with that comment.

 "And do you remember who Ben and I are? We haven’t gotten anywhere with anyone which sucks but we’re pretty awkward Bill.” He laughed. 

“What about Richie?” Bill asked. Eddie frowned. 

“What about him?” He sneered and Bill put a pin in that to make sure to bring it up the attitude he’d answered with again. “He’s not had sex yet or he’d be bragging up and down the street. Don’t you know him?” 

Bill realized how silly he’d been to ask but he was still annoyed. 

“S’not that big of a deal anyway.” Eddie spoke as he turned back and pulled his aspirator from the glove-box for safe keeping. “Sex is just sex. It’ll happen when it happens.” He put the car in drive and moved to pull out of the driveway. 

“Spoken like a true v-v-virgin, Eddie.” Bill joked and Eddie even had to laugh at that. Truthfully, none of them cared all that much about ‘doing it’ except maybe Richie. But even that was just some jokes here and there. But insecurity had risen in Bill ever since Disco night when Beverly rejected him. He had briefly wondered if he’d ruined their friendship. He’d also wondered if he just...’didn’t have any game’ in him. 

                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

{Mike, Bill, Stan, Eddie & Richie sat in Stan’s basement. The room is lacking smoke.}

“I hate to be a party pooper, though it is what I’m best at, but the smoke really is bad for my asthma.” Eddie paced behind the couch in Stan’s basement with a slight grin on his face. 

“Hey, I could fight you on that, I think I’m a champion at that too.” Stan cocked his head, resting it on the back of his couch as Eddie stood above him. He wagged his finger like a much older gentleman and Eddie giggled. 

“I’d be careful if I were you. Eddie’s real scrappy. Once, we were play f-f-f-fighting over the remote and he nearly kicked me in the eye.” Bill laughed and Eddie rolled his eyes. 

“Please. Don’t exaggerate.” 

Richie perked up and smirked. “Eddie, one time you punched me so hard I fell on the floor and had a bruise for like....ever.” Richie did not look too mad about it. He actually found it rather funny and possibly adorable. 

“It’s not like it came from nowhere. You were sitting on me.” 

Richie blushed slightly at the memory. Boy, had he regretted that move many times when they play-fought. But he always went for it without even thinking about it. He was actually glad Eddie had knocked him off that day. 

Mike hummed and looked through Stan’s record collection for some background tunes. “Violence does seem to be the way with you guys.” He pretended to scold them, although he truly didn’t quite enjoy violence himself. 

Stan allowed Eddie to playfully flick at his forehead and grinned. They were all silent for a few minutes before Mike finally decided on a record. More specifically, ‘Led Zeppelin IV’.

Everyone rolled their shoulders back with the same pleasure as the first song kicked in. A natural reaction, of course. 

They were quiet again, absorbing that special sound. 

“You know what would make this better?” Richie asked. 

“Hmmm?” Mike replied. 

“Weed.” 

Mike slapped his shoulder while Eddie playfully gave him the finger. Richie smirked at him. Things had been awkward for them ever since Disco night. Neither of them willing to bring up what happened ever since. Suddenly Richie found himself wishing Ben were there because at least he’d understand his sudden mood drop. 

                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

{Derry, Maine. 4:50 P.M.}

Beverly sat on the curb in front of the local pharmacy, smoking a cigarette and hoping her dull headache would not get any worse. The day was dragging on and she felt a little guilty for blowing Stan and Richie off earlier but she also wished she’d done it sooner. 

“Loitering is a crime, young lady.” A distant voice made her jump but as she turned her head, it was just Ben putting on her on as he nervously approached. 

“Sorry I thought that’d be funny but ummm- I don’t know why I did that, sorry.” Ben tried to mumble through an apology and she had to reluctantly smile at that. 

“It was funny, Ben.” She rolled her lips together and gestured for him to sit next to her. “Listen, I’m glad you’re here actually.” 

The comment itself made Ben want to smile but her tone and expression made him want to crumble right there in front of the store. She bent one of her knees and sat in a way to face him entirely. The golden sun dusted upon her freckled shoulders and warmed her hair. He could tell she was about to speak but he beat her to it. 

“You know about my feelings, huh?” He guessed because he was just too curious and worried to wait. The girl blinked, lashes kissing her face, and licked her lips in thought. 

“I know.” She nodded and Ben felt like he could throw-up in the sewer grate just to their side. They looked at each other for a few painful seconds. 

“So if I was to ask you-...” Ben couldn’t even finish. I’d be pitiful if he even tried so he let it hang in the air. By the way Beverly put her hand to her lips and turned to look away, he knew it was bad. “Yeah...that’s-that’s fine.” Ben scratched the back of his head and tried to shrug it off. 

“Look Ben, I’m not saying no forever.” She turned back with renewed energy that he wondered how she’d managed to pull. “But for now...” 

“It’d be a no?” Ben asked. She nodded and he found himself wondering if it had anything to do with Bill. He would have asked but he was not that insensitive. It wasn’t any of his business. 

“Please... don’t hate me.” Beverly reached out to pat his knee with genuine fear before pulling away like she was burned.

“Hate you?” Ben found the room to laugh. Beverly raised a frightened brow. “Never, Bev. Never in my life could I hate you. You’re one of my best friends.” He nodded and she felt fine again. Happy, even. 

They surrendered the conversation and picked up a new one. Though, both felt a little restrained. How long would that last...?

                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

{Stan’s Basement. 5:00 P.M.}

Mike, Bill, Richie, Eddie and Stan had gotten side-tracked by a Gilligan’s Island marathon on TV like almost every-time they hung out. As another plan to get off the island failed, Richie took a small chance and put his arm around Eddie but rested it on the back of the couch casually. 

Mike and Bill didn’t notice but Stan put all his attention on the two of them as if they were just as entertaining. He could tell Eddie had obviously noticed by the way he blinked and swallowed. He seemed to allow it before abruptly announcing he wanted a pop and stood to leave. 

Poor Richie looked as if he was punched in the gut as he lowered his hand back into his lap. Stan bit into his cheek and made to follow his short friend. 

He met him at the shockingly white fridge with a look of sympathy. He leaned his chin on the open fridge door and sighed. “Judging by the way you sprang out of there, you two haven’t talked about anything, huh?” 

Eddie jumped. Stan always loved his habit of entering a room mysteriously. It was truly a gift....a really fun gift too. Eddie slammed the fridge and shrugged. 

“We have not said a word about anything.” He paused and leaned back on the kitchen counter. “I just...I don’t want things to be weird.” 

Stan thought about the way Richie had looked like a kicked puppy earlier and shuddered. “I don’t know if you can avoid that, Eddie.” 

“I can try.” Eddie gave him a sarcastic and upset grin before completely brushing him off to head back for the basement. 

Stan shook his head. Life was going to get real complicated real fast. 

[alishbakhanus]

26 gorgeous wedding ideas that will completely amaze your guests

Wedding plans may be short-lived for some couples, but sometimes a little extra time for planning is not bad. Wedding trends come and go, but there is one tried and tested style that remains somewhat timeless – country. The word “country” can mean many things to many people, as this is exactly what will translate to your wedding vision? To refine your search, we’ve put together some of the best rustic wedding ideas from real couples that will inspire your own ceremony and reception. Your decision to go to the country can help communicate everything from wedding shower ideas to your honeymoon!

The easiest way to ensure your big day is filled with country spirit is to place it in the bridal wedding venue. But if the location of the barn is impossible, do not despair. You do not need a family farm to create a charming wedding. Haystack seats, lights with lights for masonry and other small details are sure to give you the mood. And let the season affect the decor. Autumn wedding cakes, topped with autumn flowers or apples, are sure to make guests suffocate. No matter where and when you spend the romance, a country wedding is a place where you show off your love for everything rustic and vintage in scenery and style.

How cute is that

Have you ever seen a more perfect wedding cake than this one? We not only go down over the tight-fitting chocolate trim, but the floral decorations (especially sunflowers) only enhance the elegant coziness of the confectionery vibration. Let’s not write a wooden cake stand that complements the coloring of the cake like nothing else.

Add seedlings of color to the barn

Yes, the perfect barn really does exist! This one is at Hammer Sky Vineyards in California. A festive garland of honeycombs in the color palette of the wedding – all that this barn should be ready for the party (well, a ladybug at a party in a ladybug won’t hurt!).

In a good way

Before embarking on your married life with your new husband, allow your loved ones to lay any wedding bills in a vintage suitcase at the reception. Mark the area with a small “map” sign obtained from pieces of heart-shaped burlap.

No rain on my parade

The most ingenious contrasting vase substitute? Mini rain boots that can be used as table decorations for guests, or as an addition to the decor. And you know what they say: rain on your wedding day means good luck. So whatever the weather, let it be a barely noticeable nod to your future.

Fun and festive on the farm

Keep the jewelry simple! Straw bales, draped with cloth or cloth napkins, loose compositions with bright flowers and holiday honeycombs – all you need to start the party.

Message in a bottle

Standard books for wedding guests have brought a little recipe to the pass, with more relatives looking for creative alternatives. Enter a message in the route from the bottles, which can double as a newly decorated house even after the wedding day. Guests have the opportunity to write down their wishes, but this format makes it more enjoyable.

A trip for life

Any young wedding party attendees to walk down the aisle, seek the help of a harbinger to pull them in the village carriage and make sure they still have a radiant moment. The teddy bear with the streamer “Here comes the bride” makes the setting even more convenient for the wedding.

No turning around

Say “I” on your family’s farm? Especially ideal for autumn weddings, the corn maze with decorative hay entrance will delight guests of all ages. Whether it’s the main entertainment during a cocktail hour or you even plan to exchange vows in front of the cornfield itself, nothing can achieve that.

Nature is done

A mason’s jar, pieces of wood, twine and lace: This central part has all the elements needed for a rustic chic wedding. Also, a combo of shorter embellishments means guests can still get confused from behind the table, without any coordinators interfering with their gaze.

Pop out fresh

Bring in a rustic fair atmosphere the old-fashioned popcorn bar. Offer balls with popcorn as well as fresh nipples with various condiments for guests to snack on before taking. You can also send friends and relatives home with an extra bag – because no one can resist an edible wedding service.

Bee mine

Thank you to the wedding guests for coming with an exciting sweet treat – tiny pots of local honey. To ensure that the gifts for the house merge with an attractive village wedding, however, display them on pedestals from village boxes.

Pastoral perfection

The blanket is covered with hay bales, umbrellas, yellow streamers and horses?! It couldn’t be more perfect, especially with the natural passage of dirt and the tree-bound promises.

Circle up

Half a circle of hay bales surround the village altar Saturated with burlap and wooden vines creates an intimate place of rite in the open air – each has a beautiful view of the future bride and groom. This pair covered bales of hay with pieces of old lace and embroidered tablecloths of their grandmothers and aunts to create comfortable places for guests.

I take off my hat

Of course, the flower girl needs to throw the petals out of the cowboy hat while the wearer of the ring gets dressed. Cowboy boots are also a must for both mini wedding participants in addition to colorful accessories.

Love potion

Entertainment click when you have an outdoor beer bar so guests can serve themselves as at this wedding on the ranch, where the groom’s homemade beer was for everyone who could enjoy. Use the labels on the board to give everyone a head up on what kvass they’re sipping, and instead of beer glasses you need to have Mason jars.

Under your spell

The letters of the sketches, hung under lanterns, announce you’re LOVE on this barn wedding, which is magical and simple. It’s also an amazing background photo for guests that can be posted and tagged along with the wedding hashtag.

Happy trails

Give your loved ones a healthy snack with a homemade trail mix bar stocked with nuts, popcorn, pretzels, chocolates and more to fill cellophane bags. For maximum edge work, use barrel sets as the base of the station.

Candy Land

A similarity may be the range of vintage dressers and tables under the wood dessert buffet for each type of sweet tooth. Fill pharmacy jars with candy, top pie stands, wells, pies and layered trays with paws. Use one surface for strokes and lemonade to constantly moisturize guests while dancing under the stars.

Initial exposure

Bring gorgeous bales of hay to the wedding farm to an impressive decor with a flower monogram for Mr. and Mrs.

Site sweet

Lay the groundwork for a festive show, using a wheelbarrow full of soil and seed packs, perfect for an intimate wedding in an apple orchard. Support the hand sign on the rake and put a couple of other farm implements for extra village vibration.

Mix and match

A village wedding in a family barn is the perfect place to overcome the official rules of sitting at a wedding. Mix and match the design and color of the chairs for a home feel; maintain a style, such as back stairs or size, to be purposefully eclectic. Try also to give your dishes the same discrepancy.

Vintage threads

Don’t let Aunt Mae get into the unprepared for the plumbing that she will definitely feel watching you say “I will”. Assemble simple and embroidered porches – anyone before the competition, anyone? – And set a small basket for guests to capture their upcoming “tears of joy”, as in this composition, seen on 100 layers of cake.

Mood

Built-in window frames create an attractive focus for the altar when hanging from a rustic wooden structure. The simple seat installation also looks incredible with the beautiful stretch marks and colors that work in the aisle.

Bar None

Cultivated wood is the main product, and this village bar from Archive Rental proves that it can be raised from a pile of rubbish to style stars. A garland from Chloe + Mint adds country chic. Aside from the dance floor, you can expect it to be the most popular venue.

Farm to become

Who needs fancy floral centerpieces when you can fill rustic wooden boxes with lush farm generosity? As for the dinner menu itself, bonus points for serving any dish on a fresh farm.

Jarring experience

There is no more dreamy way to get married than standing under a tree filled with Masonic pendants hanging from candlesticks, especially at dusk. Such a décor scheme makes a huge statement without spending too much budget on the wedding.

Courtesy: best banquet halls in Lahore

[orbemnews]

Pregnant Women Get Conflicting Advice on Covid-19 Vaccines Pregnant women looking for guidance on Covid-19 vaccines are facing the kind of confusion that has dogged the pandemic from the start: The world’s leading public health organizations — the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and the World Health Organization — are offering contradictory advice. Neither organization explicitly forbids or encourages immunizing pregnant women. But weighing the same limited studies, they provide different recommendations. The C.D.C.’s advisory committee urged pregnant women to consult with their doctors before rolling up their sleeves — a decision applauded by several women’s health organizations because it kept decision making in the hands of the expectant mothers. The W.H.O. recommended that pregnant women not receive the vaccine, unless they were at high risk for Covid because of work exposures or chronic conditions. It issued guidance on the Moderna vaccine on Tuesday, stirring uncertainty among women and doctors on social media. (Earlier this month, it published similar guidance on the Pfizer-BioNTech vaccine.) Several experts expressed dismay at the W.H.O.’s stance, saying the risks to pregnant women from Covid were far greater than any theoretical harm from the vaccines. “There are no documented risks to the fetus, there’s no theoretical risks, there’s no risk in animal studies,” from the vaccines, said Dr. Anne Lyerly, a bioethicist at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. “The more that I think about it, the more disappointed and sad I feel about it.” The difference of opinion between the C.D.C. and the W.H.O. is not rooted in scientific evidence, but the lack of it: Pregnant women have been barred from participating in clinical trials of the vaccines, a decision in line with a long tradition of excluding pregnant women from biomedical research, but one that is now being challenged. While the rationale is ostensibly to protect women and their unborn children, barring pregnant women from studies pushes the risk out of the carefully controlled environment of a clinical trial and into the real world. The practice has forced patients and providers to weigh sensitive, worrisome issues with little hard data about safety or effectiveness. Vaccines are generally considered to be safe, and pregnant women have been urged to be immunized for influenza and other diseases since the 1960s, even in the absence of rigorous clinical trials to test them. “As obstetricians we are often faced with difficult decisions about using interventions in pregnancy that have not been properly tested in pregnancy,” said Dr. Denise Jamieson, an obstetrician at Emory University in Atlanta and a member of the Covid expert group at the American College of Obstetrics and Gynecologists. The college strongly advocated including pregnant and breastfeeding women in the vaccine trials. “What many people miss is that there are risks to doing nothing,” Dr. Jamieson said. “Not offering pregnant women the opportunity to be vaccinated and protect themselves, where there are known and severe risks of Covid amplified by pregnancy, is not a wise strategy.” The uncertainty isn’t limited to Covid vaccines: Many if not most medications, including widely used drugs, have never been tested in pregnant women. It can take years or decades for adverse side effects to come to light in the absence of a study with a control group for comparison. “This isn’t a story about the W.H.O. or other people advising against vaccination in pregnancy,” said Carleigh Krubiner, a policy fellow at the Center for Global Development and a principal investigator for the Pregnancy Research Ethics for Vaccines, Epidemics and New Technologies project (PREVENT). “It’s a story about the failure to timely and appropriately include pregnant women in vaccination studies.” Saying she understood the commitment of the W.H.O. and other advisory bodies to rely on scientific studies, Dr. Krubiner added: “The reality is that we don’t yet have the data on these vaccinations in pregnancy, and it’s very difficult without that data to come out and give a full-throated recommendation in support.” The C.D.C. and the W.H.O. have offered dissonant advice many times over the course of the pandemic — most notably on the usefulness of masks and the possibility of the virus traveling by air indoors. In a statement, the C.D.C. said on Thursday that based on how the Pfizer-BioNTech and Moderna vaccines work, “they are unlikely to pose a specific risk for pregnant women.” The C.D.C.’s recommendation may make sense for the United States, where women may easily be able to consult with their health care providers, said Joachim Hombach, a health adviser to the W.H.O. on immunizations. But the W.H.O. provides guidance to many low- and middle-income countries where women do not have access to doctors or nurses, he said. The W.H.O.’s recommendation was also made “in the context of limited supply” of the vaccines, Dr. Hombach said. “I don’t think the language is discouraging, but the language is stating the facts.” Pfizer did not include pregnant women in its initial clinical trials because it followed the policies outlined by the Food and Drug Administration to first conduct developmental and reproductive toxicity studies, said Jerica Pitts, a spokeswoman for the company. Pfizer and Moderna both provided results from toxicity studies in pregnant rats to the F.D.A. in December. Pfizer plans to begin a clinical study in pregnant women in the first half of 2021, Ms. Pitts said. Moderna is establishing a registry to record outcomes in pregnant women who receive its vaccine, according to Colleen Hussey, a spokeswoman for the company. Critics of the companies’ decisions to exclude pregnant women from trials say the reproductive toxicity studies could have been carried out much earlier — as soon as promising vaccine candidates were identified. The companies should have added a protocol to enroll pregnant women once it was clear the vaccines’ benefits outweighed potential harm, Dr. Krubiner said. “It’s hard to understand why that delay is happening and why it wasn’t initiated sooner,” she said. “The bigger issue is, we’re going to have lost months by the time they start them.” Akiko Iwasaki, an immunologist at Yale University who has advocated immunizations for pregnant women questioned the underlying issue that prompted the W.H.O.’s decision. “Whatever it is, I wish the W.H.O. would be more transparent in their reasons behind this recommendation,” she said. “Women’s lives depend on it.” Covid-19 Vaccines › Answers to Your Vaccine Questions Am I eligible for the Covid vaccine in my state? Currently more than 150 million people — almost half the population — are eligible to be vaccinated. But each state makes the final decision about who goes first. The nation’s 21 million health care workers and three million residents of long-term care facilities were the first to qualify. In mid-January, federal officials urged all states to open up eligibility to everyone 65 and older and to adults of any age with medical conditions that put them at high risk of becoming seriously ill or dying from Covid-19. Adults in the general population are at the back of the line. If federal and state health officials can clear up bottlenecks in vaccine distribution, everyone 16 and older will become eligible as early as this spring or early summer. The vaccine hasn’t been approved in children, although studies are underway. It may be months before a vaccine is available for anyone under the age of 16. Go to your state health website for up-to-date information on vaccination policies in your area Is the vaccine free? You should not have to pay anything out of pocket to get the vaccine, although you will be asked for insurance information. If you don’t have insurance, you should still be given the vaccine at no charge. Congress passed legislation this spring that bars insurers from applying any cost sharing, such as a co-payment or deductible. It layered on additional protections barring pharmacies, doctors and hospitals from billing patients, including those who are uninsured. Even so, health experts do worry that patients might stumble into loopholes that leave them vulnerable to surprise bills. This could happen to those who are charged a doctor visit fee along with their vaccine, or Americans who have certain types of health coverage that do not fall under the new rules. If you get your vaccine from a doctor’s office or urgent care clinic, talk to them about potential hidden charges. To be sure you won’t get a surprise bill, the best bet is to get your vaccine at a health department vaccination site or a local pharmacy once the shots become more widely available. Can I choose which vaccine I get? How long will the vaccine last? Will I need another one next year? That is to be determined. It’s possible that Covid-19 vaccinations will become an annual event, just like the flu shot. Or it may be that the benefits of the vaccine last longer than a year. We have to wait to see how durable the protection from the vaccines is. To determine this, researchers are going to be tracking vaccinated people to look for “breakthrough cases” — those people who get sick with Covid-19 despite vaccination. That is a sign of weakening protection and will give researchers clues about how long the vaccine lasts. They will also be monitoring levels of antibodies and T cells in the blood of vaccinated people to determine whether and when a booster shot might be needed. It’s conceivable that people may need boosters every few months, once a year or only every few years. It’s just a matter of waiting for the data. Will my employer require vaccinations? Where can I find out more? The toxicity data released by Pfizer and Moderna in December found no harmful effects from the vaccines to pregnant rats — evidence cited by the W.H.O. in its guidance. One extreme consequence of a conservative approach to vaccines played out during the Ebola epidemic in the Democratic Republic of Congo, when health workers offered a vaccine for the disease to all frontline workers and contacts of people confirmed to have it — except if they were pregnant or breastfeeding. Without the vaccine, 98 percent of pregnant women who were infected with the Ebola virus died. The rules were changed following a public outcry but, by then, many pregnant women had died, Dr. Lyerly said. Covid-19 has also proved to be dangerous to pregnant women. A large C.D.C. study published in November found that pregnant women with Covid who were symptomatic were significantly more likely to be hospitalized or to die when compared with nonpregnant women who also had Covid symptoms. The evidence prompted agency officials to add pregnancy to the list of conditions that heighten the risk of severe disease and death from Covid. The C.D.C. has set up a smartphone application called v-safe to solicit reports of side effects from immunized people. About 15,000 pregnant women have enrolled in the registry so far, the agency’s immunization committee reported on Wednesday. “I think that’s our best chance of getting safety data rapidly,” Dr. Jamieson said. Britain initially starkly recommended against Covid vaccines for pregnant women, but has since revised its guidance to authorize inoculating pregnant women who are frontline workers or otherwise at high risk. “I’m hoping the W.H.O. will reconsider as well,” Dr. Jamieson said. Some experts said the recommendations are not as divergent as they may appear at first glance. “The C.D.C. is more inclined to say that pregnant women should have access to the vaccine, but should discuss their circumstances with their providers,” said Dr. Ana Langer, a reproductive health expert who leads the Women and Health Initiative at Harvard’s T.H. Chan School of Public Health. “The W.H.O.’s interim recommendation says that women who are at particularly high risk of exposure or getting Covid should get the vaccine. So where’s the big difference here?” Denise Grady contributed reporting. Source link Orbem News #Advice #conflicting #Covid19 #Pregnant #Vaccines #Women

[hopingforbabyblog]

The beginning of this week was really difficult for me. I had my surgery to remove some scar tissue from my uterus. Both my local doctor and my doctor in Seattle require my uterus be clear of all scar tissue before I can proceed with my FET in April. I’m hoping this will be the last surgery I need until then. I felt some really low lows this week, but I’m happy to say at least this week ended well.

Catch-up on Previous FET Prep Posts

FET Prep Week 1: 3.5 months until FET

FET Prep Week 2: Supplements, WTF Email, & Increased AMH Level

FET Prep Week 3: You say Future Tripping, I say Future Planning

FET Prep Week 4: Bad News from SIS Test

Countdown Until FET: 81 days (as of 02-03-2020)

Follow us on Instagram and Facebook for photos of our trip to Nevada and my other FET Prep photos. 

  Hysteroscopy Surgery

Bored Julie takes selfies before surgery. That teal hairnet though!

On Monday I had my hysteroscopy surgery, to clear the scar tissue from my uterus. My most recent miscarriage in September resulted in this third surgery. Three subsequent surgeries for only one miscarriage, and that doesn’t even count all the other surgeries I had before those three. When I woke up from surgery I remember saying to the nurse how painful it was, and it was more painful than the other ones. They gave me some oral pain medicine after the surgery but it didn’t kick in until I got home. Normally with my other surgeries I request hydrocodone, but this one I chose not to. My doctor said Ibuprofen should be good enough. 

Waiting for surgery in my snazzy surgery socks. 

I went to work the next day and did some physical work cleaning. But after one hour of cleaning I started to feel really wiped out and was hurting, I think I overdid it. Normally after my surgeries I take time off work, but I decided not to this time because with my SIS procedure and now this hysteroscopy, among other bills I just could not justify not working. I absolutely had to continue working to pay all the bills coming my way. I also had to clean up the house a bit before we left on vacation, and pack. I did a whole lot of bitching and crying this week from the intermittent pain. 

Kitty watches The Bachelor with me while I rest after surgery.

Kitty cuddles post-surgery.

I called my doctor’s office Thursday to ask for some hydrocodone but my doctor was out for the weekend. I could not get the medicine at all due to me needing to leave on Friday. I learned that narcotics can’t be called in to a pharmacy due to needing the paper copy to be brought in-person. So right now I only have ibuprofen to help with the occasional pain.

Kitty cheering me up after my surgery.

  Depression

I’ve been dealing with a low-grade depression since September, when I had my most recent miscarriage. But with this surgery I had this week and all of the stress that comes with this process, my depression really reared its ugly head. I haven’t felt that deep of a depression in almost a decade. I think it was just an accumulation of all the miscarriages, fertility treatments, and the large amount of debt that accumulated so quickly this previous week. 

I was stressed, angry, and not getting enough sleep. I was working every day of the week after my surgery, despite the pain. I was feeling so incredibly overwhelmed and really feeling like there was very little hope of pulling myself out of it. As much as I wanted to lie in bed for the next month, I decided to do the exact opposite of how I was feeling. I pulled myself out of bed and slowly got started cleaning. I cleaned the house during the hours that my ibuprofen was working the most. I made some progress and took a step back to look at the progress. It felt pretty good to get at least something accomplished even though I felt like garbage. That was the first little glimmer of hope I had.

My to-do list was still long but I was determined to knock out one thing at a time. One-by-one I completed most of the things on my list that I wanted to do before my trip. Instead of forcing myself to get everything done, I chose to put off certain things that could wait until later. I think for anyone that is feeling overwhelmed or depressed, start with one simple task. Then prioritize just a few other tasks. Don’t worry about doing it all, because if you don’t set realistic expectations you’re just setting yourself up for failure. In the end I was able to do about 90% of what I needed to before the trip, not too shabby. 

I also got the call back from my doctors office and my nurse explained to me that they found out it was simply scar tissue and not uterine cancer. I immediately felt a huge wave of relief. This is the second time they were concerned about me developing uterine cancer and I have gotten the all clear. I’m feeling very lucky and grateful right now.

  Trip to Nevada

I had a true turnaround with how my week was going. I went from feeling so depressed at the beginning of the week, to feeling so happy and centered by the end of the week. The timing of my trip could not have been any better. As soon as my butt was in the seat of that plane I breathed a sigh of relief. My only regret with planning this trip is I wish I would have planned it for about two or three weeks earlier, due to the weather we were experiencing in Alaska. 

January is notorious for being the worst month to live in Alaska. It’s one of the darkest and coldest times of year. We had a cold snap where it was -10 to -18 at times. Although December is the darkest month, with winter solstice having about 5.5 hours of sunlight, at least there are the  holiday festivities and it is not quite as cold. In addition to my good old fashioned depression, I might have some Seasonal Affective Disorder as well. As soon as I felt the Nevada sun warming my pale arms from the window of my plane, I felt like I was starting to come back to life. 

During our hike in Tecopa, California I found these stacked rocks. 

We are visiting Kurtis’ mom and step-dad in Pahrump, just outside of Las Vegas. We’ll be staying in Las Vegas near the end of our trip. Saturday we drove out to Tecopa, California, which is not that long of a drive from Pahrump. We visited a farm where they grow dates out in the middle of the desert. Kurtis and I hiked a trail right next to the date farm. It was out in the desert, surrounded by mountains and ancient riverbeds. I have always loved the desert. I feel like I am on Mars, it’s so drastically different from Alaska. I don’t think I’d last a second out here though if it was in the middle of the summer. But it was a comfortable 70 degrees on our hike, the perfect temperature I think. 

On our hike in the desert of California, near the Nevada border.

We finished up the week with Super Bowl Sunday. Kurtis & I are fans of the 49ers so it was a big deal that our team made it to the Super Bowl. Even though our team lost, it was still fun to watch. We wore our 49ers shirts and watched the game with his mom and her friends. Kurtis is a die-hard fan. He will yell and scream with excitement for every touchdown, field goal, and any gain of yardage. When his mom’s friends left a little before the end of the game Kurtis said to me, “I hope I didn’t scare them away with my yelling,” I just laughed and said “You probably did.” Back home he would watch the games every Sunday, Monday and Thursday and be yelling at his players, the other team, and the ref’s. Even when I wear my noise-cancelling headphones I can still hear him whooping and hollering. I’m not sure if they actually make noise-cancelling headphones that truly block out all the noises of a superfan. A week or so before the Superbowl I showed Kurtis some YouTube videos of sports fans losing their s**t. I told him, “I’m happy you aren’t like those crazy guys.” We thought those videos were hilarious and we had full-on belly laughs with tears watching these. Amazingly there is a treasure trove of many videos of fans going ballistic, I highly recommend checking those out if you need a good laugh.

Kurtis & I before the big game.

Mini Victories for the Week

I did not take any time off from work after my surgery. Gotta pay those bills!

I went from being emotionally overwhelmed, to feeling a lot better by the end of the week.

Got out hiking in the sun.

Chose not to have alcohol at all this week so I can stay on track with my FET prep.

Keeping up with most of my supplements.

  Work in Progress

I’ve been a little lax with how I’ve been eating this week. I’ll allow some wiggle room with how I’m eating, so as not to stress myself out while I’m on vacation.

Opt for veggies as much as possible while on vacation, including salads, and veggie side dishes. 

  This post may contain affiliate links. You can read the disclosure here. 

  Want to find out how fertile you are? The Modern Fertility test is an affordable test that shows your hormone levels and gives you an overall picture of where you stand with your fertility. I recommend taking this test at least every 9-12 months to keep track of your hormone levels. What hormones will be tested? Depending on the type of birth control you are on they can test up to eight different hormone levels which may include:

AMH (Anti-mullerian hormone)

FSH (Follicle stimulating hormone)

E2 (Estradiol)

LH (Luteinizing hormone)

TSH (Thyroid stimulating hormone)

FT4 (Free thyroxine)

PRL (Prolactin)

T (Testosterone)

Order your test today.

Modern Fertility Test – Women’s Health Hormone Test You Can Take at Home – Not Available NY, NJ, RI

  FET Prep Week 5: Surgery, Depression & Trip to Nevada The beginning of this week was really difficult for me. I had my surgery to remove some scar tissue from my uterus.

[gaiatheorist]

PIP v2020.

Well, that was awful. Not the consultation/assessment bit, although I did forget to ask him if that was for the ‘review’ or ‘advanced’ applications, I suppose I’ll find out if another face-to-face appointment letter comes out in the post. I’m pulling faces at myself, there’s a sheet of paper in the back pocket of my jeans, with a series of inter-connected lines, numbered at junctions, and then a key-style list of which direction in capital letters, and the name of the next street to take. That map would have been more use to me than the one included with the appointment letter, which was accurate, but very much zoomed-in around the assessment centre, so nobody that I asked for help could tell me where I was, or which direction I should be walking in. I have been to that town before, but only to the High Street in the ex’s car, and a meeting I attended for work, probably 5 years ago, and work booked me a taxi to get there.

I photocopied the most recent appointment letter, did my usual ‘bizarre and over-compensating preparation’ being me is like having a constant three-way argument with myself. Is my phone fully charged/have I put the postcode into Google Maps on my phone/do I have the phone number written in at least two different places, in case I lose one/do I have a copy of the appointment letter in my coat, in case I’m mugged, and my bag is stolen/do I have an emergency £10 note in the back pocket of my jeans, in case I need to phone a taxi/is this the best coat for purpose/pen, spare pen, spare-spare-pen/do I take my scruffy phone-notepad, or the ‘medical’ one/is that the best bus, or should I catch an earlier one, and risk standing outside in the cold for an hour/bottle of water, bottle of full-fat Coke, two snickers bars, emergency painkillers/take that folder as well, just in case. It’s exhausting, I’m generally knackered before I leave the house if I’m going somewhere ‘new.’

Hindsight is a twat. In the two HOURS I was in the bus station, waiting for the-same-bus-I-arrived-on I found the street I should have taken first, except it’s not really a street, it’s more of an alley/snicket, and, yes, of course it led off in the opposite direction to the only proper street I could see from the unfamiliar bus-station. I’ve mentioned before that I almost-always walk the wrong way from unfamiliar bus or train stations. I had tried to cut the risk of that happening, by printing multiple different maps, and then drawing-out, and memorising the ‘shape’ I’d need to walk in- left, left again, right along a longer stretch of road, short-right, short-left, and you have reached your destination. (Now chuckling at myself at the notion of me being twat-nav.) 

A new ‘reasonable adjustment’ I’ve worked out in terms of asking people for directions is to ask them to physically point which way I need to walk to my next junction, because my head simply will not hold a verbal ‘Left here, then your next right, follow that road until you pass the church...’ I’m smirking about an old comedy sketch, it might have been a Newman and Baddeil one, suggesting that NOBODY ever managed to retail verbal directions. “Right here, then right again, until you come to the blah-blah-blah, your Mum’s a slag.” I know I have a tendency to say ‘left’ when I mean ‘right’, which gave rise to the ‘other left’, then ‘duck-left’, and finally ‘Mork’ or ‘Mindy’. (The ex had two dogs, Mork, and Mindy, Mindy always sat on the left-hand seat in the back of his car, and Mork always sat on the right, I was actually a fairly decent navigator once we worked that system out.) The road I was on didn’t ‘feel’ like the shape of the map I’d drawn, I should have been on the longest stretch of road, but I was at a very short strip of road, with a three-way junction that I didn’t remember seeing in the maps. 

Rules- I won’t stop old ladies, single women, or women with children, I will actually cross the road if there’s a single woman ahead of me, I’m tall for a female, and usually in walking boots or trainers, I don’t make much noise, I know how I’d feel if someone I hadn’t noticed was there suddenly overtook me on the pavement, so I try not to do it to other people. (Now chuckling at an out-lesbian colleague calling out ‘We need a man!’, in response to yet another student having been kicked in the balls, we didn’t know how much pain would be considered normal for that, so we needed a male first-aider.)  I needed a man, but not a very old man, because he might think I was going to mug him, and not a young man, because he might mug me. Standing on a street corner, looking for a man. A man approached, I walked up to him, apologised for intruding, and asked ‘Which direction should I be walking to get to {street name{?’ The ‘erm, uhm, erm, I think it’s that way?’ was massively uncertain, but I had no idea at all where I was. I walked ‘that’ way. I walked all the way out of the town I was supposed to be in, and into the next village. I tried to use Google Maps, to see if I was heading in the right direction, no signal. I was rapidly approaching the time of my appointment, and starting to panic. I looked at the sheet with the directions and phone number, thinking I might be able to phone for directions. No dice, the contact number was for the DWP call-centre, not the clinic itself. Really, really panicking now. Then I looked at Google Maps again, and my phone black-screened and went dead. 

There’s a massive issue in me, when it comes to ‘asking for help’, I’m nowhere near as bad as I used to be, when I just-wouldn’t, but there’s some sort of point-of-convergence with the C-PTSD, the ASD, and the Brain Injuries, and I feel the need to ‘script’ the request, so I’m not relinquishing all control. All the ‘rules’ I was taught as a child, and a teenager, when there weren’t any mobile phones bubbled up in my head. You find a shop, with people already in it, to act as witnesses, if you’re found in a ditch 10 miles away, with your knickers inside-out, or worse. Small parade of shops, most of which had those painted windows you can’t see in through, and a pharmacy, that I could see in through, two customers, and more than one member of staff. Their clock said it was half past ten, which was the time of my appointment. If you fail to turn up, or phone to explain your delay, DWP/PIP stop your application. I was already in full panic-mode, on the verge of tears, and probably looked like I already had been found in a ditch. 

“Can I help you?”

“I hope so. I’m late for an appointment. I’m lost. Can I use your phone to tell them I’m running late, and can you phone me a taxi, please?” That sounds perfectly normal, reading it back, but there were punctuations of  massive sobs, and snot-bubbles. I had, at that point ‘lost it’, and my C-PTSD and ASD brain telling me this was a perfectly reasonable plan, but the woman behind the counter, presented with a sweaty, dishevelled ginger she-beast flapping a map, didn’t know what to do with me. (Most People Don’t.)

“I don’t know if I can help, I don’t know where that is, and I don’t know any taxi numbers.” I genuinely don’t know how I managed not to faint, with all the cogs in my head whirring so fast. I knew some taxi numbers myself, but they were my ‘local’ firms, I was in a different postcode and dialling code.

“Please, just phone me a taxi? I don’t know where I am, and I’m already late.”

The customer who had been at the counter before me collected his bag of medication, turned to me, and asked “Where do you need to be?” I told him the street name, he shook his head, and said he didn’t know it, at that point, I didn’t know if he was a rapist, an axe-murderer, or a Daily Mail reader, who would use my precious minutes explaining something completely irrelevant. “I’ll take you there.”, again, I’m out at the back of beyond, completely lost, and snot-sobbing that if I don’t turn up, DWP would end my claim. I showed him the map, and he called over to another member of staff, “How far are we from {street}?”

“It’s only a couple of miles, you could be there in a few minutes.”

“I’ll take you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, I’ll phone a taxi.”

“I’ll drive you, it’s not far.”

“I can’t ask...”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering.”

I climbed into a car with a complete stranger, who had already said he didn’t know where the street was.

I cried all the way there, he asked a pedestrian for directions, and I realised that I could have been at the clinic in five minutes, if I hadn’t walked the wrong way out of the bus station. I thanked him profusely, apologised for inconveniencing him, and wished him a happy new year. The clock in his car had read 10.34, I was late. I fully expected the door to be locked when I tried the handle. It wasn’t, so two waiting rooms full of strangers saw a red-faced, sweaty, snotty, bedraggled thing looking for reception. 

I apologised profusely to the young man on the reception desk, explaining that I had gotten myself very badly lost, and was REALLY sorry I was late. He asked if I was there for PIP, or physiotherapy, PIP assessors often rent rooms in other medical facilities, but they don’t have access to NHS records or systems, and it’s luck of the draw whether you get a nurse, a chiropodist, or a physiotherapist doing your assessment. I handed him my appointment letter, and fumbled my provisional driving licence out of my wallet. “Here’s one form of ID, with a photo, would you like my bank card as the second, or I have my birth certificate and marriage certificate, and some utility bills in my bag?” “No, it’s fine, this is enough.” The anxiety-paranoia kicked in, that the letter stated TWO forms of ID, and they were playing tricks to have my application declined. (I’ve just remembered that the assessor did ask me a couple of questions about ‘moving around’, but none of the ‘planning a journey’ questions. I can only hope that’s because I’d already babbled at him that I’d gotten myself lost.)

Andy was my assessor, dark hair, right-hand-side parting, short, dark beard and moustache, probably the same height as me, stocky, but not overweight. Red shirt with no tie, tucked into charcoal-coloured jeans, with black sturdy boots. He might as well have told me I’d won the lottery, when he told me he was a mental health worker. He’ll know the state of NHS MH provision, and that the level of intervention I’ve had, and am still having doesn’t come as a free gift in a cereal box. I was a panicky mess, and knew I needed to settle myself down before I started answering questions. Catch-22, there, I was obviously in some sort of ‘overwhelming emotion’, which is one of the categories on the planning/making a journey section, but, if I allowed the panic to continue, I wouldn’t be able to answer his questions. Over the years, I’ve worked out a weird system, to give me a feeling of control, when I’m close to losing it. It’s very basic, but it usually works. I had lost control by getting lost, and then relinquished control, by getting into a stranger’s car, I had to control ‘something’, to reduce the panic. “Look, I’m sorry I’m late, but I’m really anxious and panicky right now, I’m going to do a bit of a routine-thing getting things out of my bag, if that’s  OK?”

“That’s fine, take as long as you need.”

“OK, this is  my medical folder, with the index-sheet in case I need to make a reference to anything.”

“Yes, that was good, because you have a lot of evidence in there.”

“There’s more than the 35 pages I sent in, I just tried to pick the most relevant.”

“Yes, I did read through them, you have a lot going on.”

“I do, (Psychiatrist) referred to it as a ‘Complex Presentation’. I’m going to keep this notebook open, in case I think of anything I need to say, and don’t want to interrupt you?”

“You can interrupt me, it’s fine, really.”

“Right, I think I’m ready now, thank you for your patience.”

I was in there over an hour, he was calm, and patient, and generally quite personable, but then again, I’d thought the same about the last two assessors. He might have been lying about his wife having Raynauds, and his son having ASD, or not being sure whether his daughter did, too, because females are more likely to mask than males. He showed me his Carpal Tunnel surgery scars, when I’d described the damage to my left wrist as ‘Like CTS.’. He didn’t do any of the cognitive assessments, I’m hoping he’s gathered enough from the Neuro-psych report. He didn’t ask any of the journey-planning questions, again, I’m hoping he makes reference to my somewhat traumatic journey there. Thankfully, he didn’t do the ‘stand on one leg’ part of the physical assessment, he did do the arms-out/arms up, the touch-thumb-to-all-fingers, the pull-against-my-fingers, the bend-at-the-waist, (the gym is paying off, I almost touched my boots.) the sit-on-the-bed-and-push-this-way-or-that. I did get a chuckle out of him when he asked me to sit on the bed, and I quipped “Tell me about your father.”, and then another, when he told me that the assessment was complete, and asked me if I had any questions. “Do I get a sticker, or a lolly, for being brave?”

His report now goes to a ‘Decision Maker’, we’d already discussed how odd it was that the Decision Makers aren’t medically trained, it’s like calling a plumber to look at your electricity problem. He told me that he had no influence over the decision, but that’s half a lie, the assessors do make a recommendation, and if his was ‘computer says no’, the Decision Maker won’t even look at my file, they’ll just decline it. “I’m fully expecting it to be declined, and have to go to Mandatory Reconsideration. I’ll ask my Mum to help me if that happens, she’s a retired Adult Social Worker, and she’ll know the process.” It’s SUCH a waste of money, dragging some of the most vulnerable people through an administrative nightmare, and then to court, to prove we need support. I shook his hand, and left. The walk back to the bus station probably took all of four minutes.

The bus station was another issue altogether. The big digital clock on the wall said I’d arrived at 11.57, and the display at the side of it said that the bus I needed was due at 12.15, so I didn’t bother sitting down on the hard metal seats, because I knew I’d struggle to get back up. The 12.15 bus turned up, didn’t let any passengers on board, and drove off. For no reason I can fathom, I decided to wait outside for the 12.45 bus, rather than take up a seat inside, that an elderly, or disabled person might need. The digital clock said 12.38 when I came back inside, because I was cold. The 12.45 bus didn’t turn up, or the 13.15. I asked the lad on the service desk if there was a problem with the route, he said there wasn’t, and that there should be a bus every half-hour. I explained I’d been waiting well over an hour, and there hadn’t been one. A bus-driver passing through the station on his lunch break, with a very loud voice, told me I could catch a different bus, get off four villages from home, and catch another bus the rest of the way. I thanked him, and weighed up whether I’d have enough physical and cognitive energy to take another ‘unfamiliar’ bus, given that I’d already gotten myself lost once, and had a massive appointment. I decided not, and sort of zoned-out. It was the movement of people around me that ‘woke me up’, I wasn’t fully asleep, but I wasn’t altogether ‘there’, either. The bus with the loud-voice driver had pulled up in the parking-bay, while he took his lunch break. When people started milling about, and woke me up, it had gone. I thought a lot of words that we shouldn’t say in front of Grandma. 

The loud-voice driver had just driven out of the parking bay, and around the roundabout, to pull up at the alighting bus-stop. I could have cried with joy. 

“Didn’t it turn up?” the driver asked as I boarded.

“No, I’d been in the bus station since just before 12, you’re the first bus since 12.15, and he didn’t let any passengers on.”

“You’d have been home by now, if you’d gone the way I told you.”

“I know, I’d already been lost once, and then had a horrible medical thing. I decided it was best to go home the same way I came, ‘familiarity’ helps me.”

I managed to make it home without falling asleep, but I’ve caught up since then, lapsing in and out of sleep Saturday, and most of Sunday. I need to pull my finger out, because I’m behind on my OU course, after spending a large chunk of November and December filling in the PIP forms. All I can do now is wait for the Decision Maker’s letter. I want to have faith that Andy will have done the right thing, I really do, two different strangers tried to help me on Saturday, but they weren’t employed by ‘Independent Assessment Services’, which is ATOS, possibly Capita too, after all the furore in the press about the shoddy service the contracted-out assessors were giving. Updates may follow.

[wetrumpfeed]

Election update: Trump Rally Tonight Edition! A quick election update for Kentucky and Pennsylvania!

Hello! I'm V_M and here are the upcoming elections this week! Tuesday May 21, 2019!

All polls for Kentucky open 5:00 A.M. Central Time and Close 5:00 P.M. Central Time! So get there early, bring family and friends, and VOTE! VOTE! VOTE!

Remember Complacency is Sin!

Great websites to use vote smart elections, us elections, and ourcampaign!

Important Information Regarding 2020!

Register

Volunteer

Guide

Engage the Right

Election Countdown

OBLIGATORY SIDE NOTES!

IMPERATIVE: BECOME A POLL WATCHER(check your state for more information!)

YOU MUST REGISTER AT LEAST ONE NEW PERSON A WEEK TO VOTE FOR PRESIDENT TRUMP IN 2020!

Kentucky, Governor and Lieutenant Governor Republican Primary!

The surrounding areas includes Kentucky!

The candidates are Incumbent Matt Bevin & Ralph Alvarado

“Matt Bevin was elected the 62nd Governor of the Commonwealth of Kentucky in 2015. He is a husband, father of nine children, veteran and successful small business owner."

“Bevin Designated more than 1.2 billion to shore up shortfalls in Kentucky Employees Retirement System and the Kentucky Teacher's Retirement."

"Governor Bevin successfully launched the Red Tape Reduction Initiative, designed to cut through the “red tape” of excessive and complex regulatory burdens.”

"Alvarado already had built a career as a physician. He did his residency at the University of Kentucky. As a public official, his work has included a focus on issues that affect the medical industry and public health. For example, he has been pushing for legislation that bans the use of tobacco products on the grounds of public schools."

and Robert Goforth with his LG Mike Hogan

"Robert grew up in poverty, enlisted in the U.S. Army when he became of age, and served as a combat engineer. Robert put himself through college at the University of Kentucky, and graduated from pharmacy school, becoming a Doctor of Pharmacy (Pharm.D.). "As a pharmacist and business owner, Robert knows all about self-reliance, hard work, and what it takes to accomplish goals. He’s a proven job creator." "Robert built his businesses from the ground up, building his pharmacies in Southeast Kentucky up from zero to multimillion dollars in annual revenues. Robert created over 30 jobs in his businesses for people in our region." "Robert is committed to a people-first agenda that values working families, small business owners, and seniors."

"Mike Hogan is a native son of Lawrence County in northeastern Kentucky. Mike and his brother were raised by a single mother in humble circumstances. Mike learned discipline and leadership after he joined the U.S. Army. Thanks to the Good Lord, a great mom, and the G.I. Bill, Mike became the first generation in his family to graduate college and later law school.

Summary from users on the Kentucky race! Thanks for your valuables inputs on the elections! Full Credit goes to these users!

u/cl1ft >I'm afraid the teachers union in Kentucky has convinced many Kentuckians that Bevin is awful even though he is the only governor in ages with enough balls to get something done in this state and attempt to fund the pension and right some budgetary wrongs (no matter how painful). A lot of Kentuckians are registered Democrat but vote conservative, but very easily swayed by the state media. Most people don't understand that Dems have run this state into the ground for 100 years. It doesn't help that this state deems him an outsider... even a carpetbagger. He really isn't the smoothest politician. I look at this as a good thing, but most people aren't pragmatic enough to understand the difference between politicians (liars) and regular folks who speak what they think. u/UnitedSaltMineWorker >I’ve been telling people that on here for the last year and get labeled a shill. Robert Goforth is the only hope of maintaining a Republican governorship in 2020. The dems don’t have any ammo to use against him, their entire scheme goes belly up if Goforth wins the primary. It’s also time to oust Beshears and Grimes. They have been destroying our state for long enough, and Grimes is a key player in the dems election fixing schemes. I really wish someone could get word to President Trump to stop blindly backing Bevin via Pence. If Beashears or Edalin become governor our open carry is gone, hunting will be over regulated, and coal mining and manufacturing is doomed. I work closely with local offices, and the dem establishment want eastern KY bankrupt. Their goal after 2020 is to put a planned parenthood in the Hazard area, and remove gun rights. Any McGrath was a test to see what they could pull off, and it nearly worked.

Bevin does not stand a chance! People are done with him. Rob seems like a genuine good guy, give him a shot of upset!

Additional Sources:

KY News KY News

Kentucky, Attorney General Republican Primary!

The surrounding areas includes Kentucky!

The candidates are Daniel Cameron and Will Schroder

Daniel grew up in Hardin County, Kentucky. He graduated from John Hardin High School in 2004. He attended undergrad at the University of Louisville. While there, he was a member of the football team and a McConnell Scholar..

Daniel Cameron's professional career has consisted of serving as a law clerk to the Honorable Gregory Van Tatenhove, a United States District Court Judge for the Eastern District of Kentucky; private practice at Stites & Harbison in Louisville, Kentucky; service as Mitch McConnell’s legal counsel in Washington, D.C.; and a return to private practice at Frost Brown Todd in Louisville, where he’s been since June 2017.

"Will Schroder Prior to his time in the State Senate, Wil served as a felony prosecutor in the Campbell County Commonwealth’s Attorney’s office. In that role, Wil represented the Commonwealth of Kentucky and the people of Campbell County in hundreds of felony cases and worked closely with law enforcement and crime victims."

"Wil resides in Campbell County and is a lifelong Kentucky resident. He is the son of the late Kentucky Supreme Court Justice Wil Schroder and Nancy Schroder, both victims of cancer. Wil is married to his high school sweetheart, Marci. "

The two are members of the Next Chapter Church in Wilder where they served in various leadership capacities and where Wil occasionally plays guitar in the worship band. Wil and Marci are the proud parents of two children, Grace and Trey, who serve as constant reminders of what is at stake for Kentucky’s future."

Additional Sources:

KY AG

Kentucky Secretary of State!

The surrounding areas includes Kentucky!

The candidates are Michael Adams

Since 2007, Michael has represented the Republican Governors Association, one of the nation’s foremost political organizations, ensuring compliance with campaign-finance, ethics and pay-to-play laws, and guiding the RGA’s efforts to elect Republican governors nationwide. "

"He has represented numerous congressional and gubernatorial campaigns and outside groups in races across the country, and currently is legal counsel to Great America Committee, Vice President Mike Pence’s Leadership PAC."

Andrew English

"Prior to his appointment, Andrew served in the United States Navy JAG Corps, deploying to the Persian Gulf with Amphibious Squadron 8 and the 24th Marine Expeditionary Unit onboard the USS Iwo Jima and eventually becoming lead prosecutor at the Washington Navy Yard."

"Andrew English most recently served as General Counsel of the Justice and Public Safety Cabinet for the State of Kentucky, appointed to the position by Governor Bevin and Secretary Tilley."

Steve Knipper

"Front runner candidate for 2019 Secretary of State. ~ Former Chief of Staff for Lt. Governor Jenean Hampton ~ Republican Nominee for Secretary of State: 2015"

Additional Sources:

Kentucky Politics

Pennsylvania State House 33 Special Election!

The surrounding areas are Hanover, Gettysburg, Chambersburg, Lurgan, Latimore, Arendtsville, Biglerville, Latimore, East Berlin, York Springs, and Shippensburg.

Context

vacancy

The candidates is Douglas Vincent Mastriano

"Doug was the lead planner for the invasion of Iraq by way of Turkey in 2003. He was Chief of Intelligence over the Afghanistan region,"

"An America First Policy means America is first priority. Our leaders must focus, first and foremost, on the issues that directly affect our lives. Your Second Amendment right must remain intact. It's time Americans have a voice that can be heard by our country's leadership. Doug can be that voice!"

"Over-regulation must be ended. Many working class citizens hold vocations in mining, farming and industry. They must be able to receive adequate wages that are not diminished due to government regulatory fees incurred by their employers or business owners. Obama Care must go."

Additional Sources:

(http://archive.is/nsYGT) (http://archive.is/10ikj)

Pennsylvania State House 11 Special Election!

The surrounding areas includes Butler, East Butler, Prospect, Chicora, Connoquenessing, and Karns City Saxonburg.

Context

Rep Brian Ellis from Butler resigned in the midst of an ongoing sexual assault investigation

The candidates is Marci Mustello

“I am pro-life and I fully support the 2nd Amendment,” she said in a statement. “I will work to lower taxes and fight to bring our hard-earned tax dollars back to our district for infrastructure projects and to foster economic development. We need to work together to create more well-paying job opportunities here in Butler County and to ensure that our workforce gets the training they need for family-sustaining jobs.”

“I will work to lower taxes and fight to bring our hard-earned tax dollars back to our district for infrastructure projects and to foster economic development.”

Additional Sources:

(http://archive.is/HRezG)

(http://archive.is/BBgvw)

Pennsylvania State House 12 Special Election!

The surrounding areas includes Potter, Tioga, Bradford, Susquehanna, Clinton, Lycoming, Wyoming, Sullivan, Centre, Synder, Union, Juanita, Northumberland, Mifflin, and Perry.

Context

Keller was selected at his party's convention from a field of 14 candidates,

The candidates is Fred Keller

"Serving in his fifth consecutive term in the Pennsylvania House of Representatives, Fred Keller has a proven record of working hard to grow Pennsylvania's economy and attract jobs, standing up for taxpayers, promoting agriculture and tirelessly supporting local families and businesses.,"

"Keller’s service in the state legislature has been recognized by the American Conservative Union, Americans for Prosperity, the National Federation of Independent Business, the PA Chamber of Business and Industry, the PA Farm Bureau, fellow public officials (both Republicans and Democrats), educators, first responders, health care professionals, taxpayer advocates and many more.!"

Additional Sources:

*side note click on the link EU ban and 451 error!

(http://archive.is/2IsNy)

(http://archive.is/QWsBz)

Pennsylvania State House 41 Special Election!

The surrounding areas includes Armstrong, Butler, Indiana, and Westmoreland counties.

Context

Incumbent resigned for health reasons.

The candidates is Joe Pittman

" is a candidate seeking election to the Pennsylvania State Senate to represent District 41. Pittman is running in the general special election on May 21, 201."

PAST ELECTION RESULTS!

Jacksonville Republicans barely won, Inc. Tommy won his by 16%

Dan Bishop won with 47%, election in fall. Get out and vote against Mcready

FLASH ELECTION UPDATE!

I want to reiterate over and over again, Roy Moore is running again, don't let him win! Pick Bradley Byrne in the Alabama Primary Senate. The primary will be March 3rd, 2020!

November 5th, 2019 multiple statewide elections will be held in Kentucky, Mississippi, New Jersey, and Virginia!

FUTURE ELECTIONS!

Election Date! Election Candidate! Election District! Election Area! Tuesday, June 4, 2019 Jack Guerrero CA State Senate 33 - Special Election The surrounding areas includes Long Beach, Huntington Park, Cudahy, Bell Gardens Lynwood, Signal Hill, Sullivan, and Paramount Tuesday, June 11, 2019 Kevin Hughes Maine St. House 045 - Special Election The surrounding areas includes Gray and Cumberland. Tuesday, June 18, 2019 Jason Shoaf Florida State House 007 The surrounding areas includes St. Apalachicola, Port St. Joe, Bristol, Blountstown, Mayo, Wewahitchka, Monticello, Greenville, Altha, Crawfordville, Perry, Carrabelle, and Madison Tuesday, June 18, 2019 Randy Maggard Florida State House 038 The surrounding areas includes St. Leo, Dade City, and areas near Zephyr-Hills.

Remember to start registering yourself and at least three new people every ten days for the 2020 election! Thanks! MAGA 🔜KAG!

Please use these websites to keep up to date with election candidates, issues, ballot initiatives, election dates, and campaigns.

http://archive.is/0gwWA

Keep the faith, work hard, and go to rallies (important to protect your identity though because of crazy NeverTrumpers) (NT)

Thanks once again to the beautiful people of the MAGA Movement! We love and cherish each and every one of you Deplorables'! 🐸🐸🐸

President Trump Accomplishments!

President Trump Donation Page

REMINDER COMPLACENCY IS SIN! EXUDE CONFIDENCE, NOT COCKINESS! WE MUST FIGHT FOR EVERY VOTE, IT'S NOT OVER TILL ITS OVER!

~ KEEP UP THE ENTHUSIASM! BE CONSISTENT! ~

~ LESS THAN 530 DAYS TILL THE ELECTION!~

May you have a blessed rest of your day! God Bless You and God Bless the United States of America!💖🇺🇸😍💖😍🇺🇸💖

submitted by /u/Vernon_Mansae [link] [comments]

[robgrayofficial]

Hello! I'm V_M and here are the upcoming elections this week! Tuesday May 21, 2019!All polls for Kentucky open 5:00 A.M. Central Time and Close 5:00 P.M. Central Time! So get there early, bring family and friends, and VOTE! VOTE! VOTE!Remember Complacency is Sin!Great websites to use vote smart elections, us elections, and ourcampaign!Important Information Regarding 2020!RegisterVolunteerGuideEngage the RightElection CountdownOBLIGATORY SIDE NOTES!IMPERATIVE: BECOME A POLL WATCHER(check your state for more information!)YOU MUST REGISTER AT LEAST ONE NEW PERSON A WEEK TO VOTE FOR PRESIDENT TRUMP IN 2020!Kentucky, Governor and Lieutenant Governor Republican Primary!The surrounding areas includes Kentucky!The candidates are Incumbent Matt Bevin & Ralph Alvarado“Matt Bevin was elected the 62nd Governor of the Commonwealth of Kentucky in 2015. He is a husband, father of nine children, veteran and successful small business owner."“Bevin Designated more than 1.2 billion to shore up shortfalls in Kentucky Employees Retirement System and the Kentucky Teacher's Retirement.""Governor Bevin successfully launched the Red Tape Reduction Initiative, designed to cut through the “red tape” of excessive and complex regulatory burdens.”"Alvarado already had built a career as a physician. He did his residency at the University of Kentucky. As a public official, his work has included a focus on issues that affect the medical industry and public health. For example, he has been pushing for legislation that bans the use of tobacco products on the grounds of public schools."and Robert Goforth with his LG Mike Hogan"Robert grew up in poverty, enlisted in the U.S. Army when he became of age, and served as a combat engineer. Robert put himself through college at the University of Kentucky, and graduated from pharmacy school, becoming a Doctor of Pharmacy (Pharm.D.). "As a pharmacist and business owner, Robert knows all about self-reliance, hard work, and what it takes to accomplish goals. He’s a proven job creator." "Robert built his businesses from the ground up, building his pharmacies in Southeast Kentucky up from zero to multimillion dollars in annual revenues. Robert created over 30 jobs in his businesses for people in our region." "Robert is committed to a people-first agenda that values working families, small business owners, and seniors.""Mike Hogan is a native son of Lawrence County in northeastern Kentucky. Mike and his brother were raised by a single mother in humble circumstances. Mike learned discipline and leadership after he joined the U.S. Army. Thanks to the Good Lord, a great mom, and the G.I. Bill, Mike became the first generation in his family to graduate college and later law school.Summary from users on the Kentucky race! Thanks for your valuables inputs on the elections! Full Credit goes to these users!u/cl1ft >I'm afraid the teachers union in Kentucky has convinced many Kentuckians that Bevin is awful even though he is the only governor in ages with enough balls to get something done in this state and attempt to fund the pension and right some budgetary wrongs (no matter how painful). A lot of Kentuckians are registered Democrat but vote conservative, but very easily swayed by the state media. Most people don't understand that Dems have run this state into the ground for 100 years. It doesn't help that this state deems him an outsider... even a carpetbagger. He really isn't the smoothest politician. I look at this as a good thing, but most people aren't pragmatic enough to understand the difference between politicians (liars) and regular folks who speak what they think. u/UnitedSaltMineWorker >I’ve been telling people that on here for the last year and get labeled a shill. Robert Goforth is the only hope of maintaining a Republican governorship in 2020. The dems don’t have any ammo to use against him, their entire scheme goes belly up if Goforth wins the primary. It’s also time to oust Beshears and Grimes. They have been destroying our state for long enough, and Grimes is a key player in the dems election fixing schemes. I really wish someone could get word to President Trump to stop blindly backing Bevin via Pence. If Beashears or Edalin become governor our open carry is gone, hunting will be over regulated, and coal mining and manufacturing is doomed. I work closely with local offices, and the dem establishment want eastern KY bankrupt. Their goal after 2020 is to put a planned parenthood in the Hazard area, and remove gun rights. Any McGrath was a test to see what they could pull off, and it nearly worked. Bevin does not stand a chance! People are done with him. Rob seems like a genuine good guy, give him a shot of upset!Additional Sources:KY News KY NewsKentucky, Attorney General Republican Primary!The surrounding areas includes Kentucky!The candidates are Daniel Cameron and Will SchroderDaniel grew up in Hardin County, Kentucky. He graduated from John Hardin High School in 2004. He attended undergrad at the University of Louisville. While there, he was a member of the football team and a McConnell Scholar..Daniel Cameron's professional career has consisted of serving as a law clerk to the Honorable Gregory Van Tatenhove, a United States District Court Judge for the Eastern District of Kentucky; private practice at Stites & Harbison in Louisville, Kentucky; service as Mitch McConnell’s legal counsel in Washington, D.C.; and a return to private practice at Frost Brown Todd in Louisville, where he’s been since June 2017."Will Schroder Prior to his time in the State Senate, Wil served as a felony prosecutor in the Campbell County Commonwealth’s Attorney’s office. In that role, Wil represented the Commonwealth of Kentucky and the people of Campbell County in hundreds of felony cases and worked closely with law enforcement and crime victims.""Wil resides in Campbell County and is a lifelong Kentucky resident. He is the son of the late Kentucky Supreme Court Justice Wil Schroder and Nancy Schroder, both victims of cancer. Wil is married to his high school sweetheart, Marci. "The two are members of the Next Chapter Church in Wilder where they served in various leadership capacities and where Wil occasionally plays guitar in the worship band. Wil and Marci are the proud parents of two children, Grace and Trey, who serve as constant reminders of what is at stake for Kentucky’s future."Additional Sources:KY AGKentucky Secretary of State!The surrounding areas includes Kentucky!The candidates are Michael AdamsSince 2007, Michael has represented the Republican Governors Association, one of the nation’s foremost political organizations, ensuring compliance with campaign-finance, ethics and pay-to-play laws, and guiding the RGA’s efforts to elect Republican governors nationwide. ""He has represented numerous congressional and gubernatorial campaigns and outside groups in races across the country, and currently is legal counsel to Great America Committee, Vice President Mike Pence’s Leadership PAC."Andrew English"Prior to his appointment, Andrew served in the United States Navy JAG Corps, deploying to the Persian Gulf with Amphibious Squadron 8 and the 24th Marine Expeditionary Unit onboard the USS Iwo Jima and eventually becoming lead prosecutor at the Washington Navy Yard.""Andrew English most recently served as General Counsel of the Justice and Public Safety Cabinet for the State of Kentucky, appointed to the position by Governor Bevin and Secretary Tilley."Steve Knipper"Front runner candidate for 2019 Secretary of State. ~ Former Chief of Staff for Lt. Governor Jenean Hampton ~ Republican Nominee for Secretary of State: 2015"Additional Sources:Kentucky PoliticsPennsylvania State House 33 Special Election!The surrounding areas are Hanover, Gettysburg, Chambersburg, Lurgan, Latimore, Arendtsville, Biglerville, Latimore, East Berlin, York Springs, and Shippensburg.ContextvacancyThe candidates is Douglas Vincent Mastriano"Doug was the lead planner for the invasion of Iraq by way of Turkey in 2003. He was Chief of Intelligence over the Afghanistan region,""An America First Policy means America is first priority. Our leaders must focus, first and foremost, on the issues that directly affect our lives. Your Second Amendment right must remain intact. It's time Americans have a voice that can be heard by our country's leadership. Doug can be that voice!""Over-regulation must be ended. Many working class citizens hold vocations in mining, farming and industry. They must be able to receive adequate wages that are not diminished due to government regulatory fees incurred by their employers or business owners. Obama Care must go."Additional Sources:(http://bit.ly/2QmmYkV) (http://bit.ly/2w9EwaD State House 11 Special Election!The surrounding areas includes Butler, East Butler, Prospect, Chicora, Connoquenessing, and Karns City Saxonburg.ContextRep Brian Ellis from Butler resigned in the midst of an ongoing sexual assault investigationThe candidates is Marci Mustello“I am pro-life and I fully support the 2nd Amendment,” she said in a statement. “I will work to lower taxes and fight to bring our hard-earned tax dollars back to our district for infrastructure projects and to foster economic development. We need to work together to create more well-paying job opportunities here in Butler County and to ensure that our workforce gets the training they need for family-sustaining jobs.”“I will work to lower taxes and fight to bring our hard-earned tax dollars back to our district for infrastructure projects and to foster economic development.”Additional Sources:(http://bit.ly/2Qg4ja1 State House 12 Special Election!The surrounding areas includes Potter, Tioga, Bradford, Susquehanna, Clinton, Lycoming, Wyoming, Sullivan, Centre, Synder, Union, Juanita, Northumberland, Mifflin, and Perry.ContextKeller was selected at his party's convention from a field of 14 candidates,The candidates is Fred Keller"Serving in his fifth consecutive term in the Pennsylvania House of Representatives, Fred Keller has a proven record of working hard to grow Pennsylvania's economy and attract jobs, standing up for taxpayers, promoting agriculture and tirelessly supporting local families and businesses.,""Keller’s service in the state legislature has been recognized by the American Conservative Union, Americans for Prosperity, the National Federation of Independent Business, the PA Chamber of Business and Industry, the PA Farm Bureau, fellow public officials (both Republicans and Democrats), educators, first responders, health care professionals, taxpayer advocates and many more.!"Additional Sources:*side note click on the link EU ban and 451 error!(http://bit.ly/2wbNSlY State House 41 Special Election!The surrounding areas includes Armstrong, Butler, Indiana, and Westmoreland counties.ContextIncumbent resigned for health reasons.The candidates is Joe Pittman" is a candidate seeking election to the Pennsylvania State Senate to represent District 41. Pittman is running in the general special election on May 21, 201."PAST ELECTION RESULTS!Jacksonville Republicans barely won, Inc. Tommy won his by 16%Dan Bishop won with 47%, election in fall. Get out and vote against McreadyFLASH ELECTION UPDATE!I want to reiterate over and over again, Roy Moore is running again, don't let him win! Pick Bradley Byrne in the Alabama Primary Senate. The primary will be March 3rd, 2020!November 5th, 2019 multiple statewide elections will be held in Kentucky, Mississippi, New Jersey, and Virginia!FUTURE ELECTIONS!Election Date!Election Candidate!Election District!Election Area!Tuesday, June 4, 2019Jack GuerreroCA State Senate 33 - Special ElectionThe surrounding areas includes Long Beach, Huntington Park, Cudahy, Bell Gardens Lynwood, Signal Hill, Sullivan, and ParamountTuesday, June 11, 2019Kevin HughesMaine St. House 045 - Special ElectionThe surrounding areas includes Gray and Cumberland.Tuesday, June 18, 2019Jason ShoafFlorida State House 007The surrounding areas includes St. Apalachicola, Port St. Joe, Bristol, Blountstown, Mayo, Wewahitchka, Monticello, Greenville, Altha, Crawfordville, Perry, Carrabelle, and MadisonTuesday, June 18, 2019Randy MaggardFlorida State House 038The surrounding areas includes St. Leo, Dade City, and areas near Zephyr-Hills.Remember to start registering yourself and at least three new people every ten days for the 2020 election! Thanks! MAGA 🔜KAG!Please use these websites to keep up to date with election candidates, issues, ballot initiatives, election dates, and campaigns.http://bit.ly/2IPuJi7 the faith, work hard, and go to rallies (important to protect your identity though because of crazy NeverTrumpers) (NT)Thanks once again to the beautiful people of the MAGA Movement! We love and cherish each and every one of you Deplorables'! 🐸🐸🐸President Trump Accomplishments!President Trump Donation PageREMINDER COMPLACENCY IS SIN! EXUDE CONFIDENCE, NOT COCKINESS! WE MUST FIGHT FOR EVERY VOTE, IT'S NOT OVER TILL ITS OVER!~ KEEP UP THE ENTHUSIASM! BE CONSISTENT! ~~ LESS THAN 530 DAYS TILL THE ELECTION!~May you have a blessed rest of your day! God Bless You and God Bless the United States of America!💖🇺🇸😍💖😍🇺🇸💖 #robgray

[thechasefiles]

The Chase Files Daily Newscap 11/8/2018

Good MORNING #realdreamchasers! Here is The Chase Files Daily News Cap for Thursday 8th November 2018. Remember you can read full articles for FREE via Barbados Today (BT) or Barbados Government Information Services (BGIS) OR by purchasing by purchasing a Daily Nation Newspaper (DN).

SHADOW CABINET – During its five-year tenure, the incumbent Government of Barbados led by the island’s first female Prime Minister Mia Mottley, will be closely monitored by citizen organization, The Shadow Cabinet. The recently formed group which is led by youth and community activist Corey Lane, also includes social development and community activist Kemar Saffrey, community worker Melissa Savoury, social commentator and the first youth Prime Minister of Barbados’ Youth Parliament Jason Carmichael and leadership specialist and missionary Imran Richards. The organization was established because of the changed political landscape following the May 24 election, with the Barbados Labour Party recording a landslide victory and securing all 30 seats. For the first time in the island’s history, there was no Opposition. The frontbench position normally left to the Opposition has been assumed by Lane and his team of young independent thinkers who seek to not only scrutinize the policies and actions of Government but also provide sound alternatives and educate the masses as well. Interim chairman of the Shadow Cabinet, Corey Lane told Barbados TODAY that the body sought to use social media and traditional forms of media to reach the public. They will also be employing the use of an app, Cit View, where Barbadians can receive real time information on policies passed in Parliament and ask questions. Lane said the organization had no political preferences and would not serve to act as a mouth piece for Government or other political institutions. “I have fundamental problems with adversarial politics because at every step of the development of a small nation like Barbados you have 50 per cent of itself fighting against itself. A nation against itself cannot stand which is why we are saying let us have some intellectuals, let us have some independents, let us have some voices both young and old analyzing what is happening,” said the interim chairman. However, as the island embarks on the Barbados Economic Recovery and Transformation (BERT) Plan, there has been much debate about its last in first out approach. “Simultaneously with modernizing Government, you are using the last in first out which mainly displaces young people. So you are going to modernize the Government system with the older people in the system. Obviously that cannot be the best way going forward. “I believe that a good mix of experience and youthful creativity and exuberance could augur well for the Barbadian economy and society,” Lane said. The community activist also commended the Mottley administration for its quick response and carefully thought out policies during their 164 days in Government but said the ball was dropped in its delivery. “Where my disappointment comes is really in the implementation, the nuts and bolts of the engine room. I think that is where they are falling down,” Lane said. Lane also expressed concern over the lack of youth engagement and conversation on the country’s changes and the public’s reluctance to educate themselves on the country’s economic future. “A lot of people listen to rumor and heresy so that is why this body needs to come, do the reading, do the research and do the unbiased analysis as much as possible,” he said. The Shadow Cabinet will be made up initially of ten members and will seek to have a full slate of 21 Shadow Ministers by January 2019.  (BT)

‘IN POOR TASTE’ – LASHLEY ON ‘SICK MP’ COMMENT – Former St Michael South East MP Hamilton Lashley has described as being in “poor taste” a call by Democratic Labour Party (DLP) General Secretary Guyson Mayers to gear up supporters for a possible by-election because of a sitting MP’s illness. The comments were an apparent reference to his successor as MP Santia Bradshaw, who has gone public with her fight against breast cancer. “I would not be part of any talk of a by-election as a result of [anyone’s] health because I want them to get better and that would mean that the individual would continue to fulfil their role. Right now at this moment any talk of by-election is out of synchronization with reality and in poor taste. I believe all parties should be wishing the [sick person] well,” said Lashley. It was during a meeting of the DLP’s three St. Philip constituency branches last month that Mayers told  the party faithful: “We do not have five years put down; we have a Member of Parliament who is very ill, and no one knows if or when there will be a by-election in that constituency, and we hear there are rumblings in the party with one of your (St. Philip) candidates whose head is on the cutting board, so we have to be in a state of readiness in case things fall apart, as they sometimes do.” The DLP General Secretary did not state the constituency or the name of Members of Parliament to whom he was referring. But Lashley told Barbados TODAY that while he is not clear to whom his former party colleague was referring to, such talk could be seen as insensitive to anyone fitting the bill, which may include Bradshaw. Back in August during a meeting with her constituents in the presence of Prime Minister Mia Mottley, Bradshaw announced that she had been recently diagnosed with the early stages of breast cancer. “I come to you tonight in the spirit of openness… a few weeks ago I discovered a lump in my breast… the good news is that it is treatable because they have found it early,” she said at the time. On Tuesday, Bradshaw returned to Parliament for the first time since beginning treatment for illness. She received a rousing welcome from her colleagues in the Lower House. Lashley extended best wishes to his successor and implored all political parties to do the same. “First of all, I want to wish Bradshaw a very speedy recovery and believe everyone across the political divide should wish well. We cannot let politics get in the way of how we treat one another and how we behave to each other as human beings,” Lashley stressed. (BT)

CANCER MEDS DELAY – SOME CANCER PATIENTS in Barbados are having difficulty sourcing vital chemotherapy drugs. The Queen Elizabeth Hospital (QEH) says there is no shortage, but there are problems with equipment which mixes the drugs and a temporary solution has been put in place. Reports reaching the DAILY NATION indicated the hospital had run short of the required medication, with some people turning to Trinidad to source them. Management at local pharmacy Collins declined to comment, while president of the Barbados Cancer Society, Dr Dorothy Cooke-Johnson, said they were offering assistance. “We are aware the QEH is having difficulty with the medication so we have been providing some for a few patients, those we already have been assisting in some way. I do not know why this is happening as I have not enquired, but I hope it can be rectified soon. It’s too difficult a situation for a country to cope with, not to have chemotherapy drugs,” she said. Hospital chairman Juliette Bynoe-Sutherland sought to allay any fears, saying the hospital was not short of drugs as this would be catastrophic. (DN)

20 YEARS TO FIX HOUSING MESS – Minister of Housing, Lands and Rural Development George Payne fears it will take 20 years to fix the housing “mess” he said was left by the last Government. Payne said the National Housing Corporation (NHC) was grappling with millions of dollars in losses at housing projects across the island. The St Andrew MP also told the House of Assembly yesterday that while the authorities could “point fingers at individuals” regarding some unspecified financial matters in housing, “we just do not have the evidence to go further and it is a loss that we will have to accept”. He noted there was an NHC waiting list for Barbadians seeking housing, but the country’s housing stock was “depleted”. Payne did not foresee this problem being solved within the next five to ten years. The minister was wrapping up debate on a resolution to vest Crown lands at Chancery Lane, Christ Church, in the National Housing Corporation. The resolution was passed. “We have a situation now where in the present economic situation, notwithstanding how we might feel in terms of the Government being responsible for housing everybody, it is more or less an impossible task,” he said. “What we have seen in the past ten years is a number of structures. You may call it a so-called housing programme by the Democratic Labour Party. Some of us have been critical of the National Housing Corporation but obviously even the National Housing Corporation has been sabotaged by the last Government.” He said the NHC lost $4 million on the first phase of houses built at Lancaster, St James, and a $1 million loss on the second stage. This was in addition to about $500 000 lost on the housing project in Parish Land, St Philip. “As I speak, Constant [St George housing project] has just been completed and . . . the average cost per house is something like $270 000 and the houses were sold at $100 000,” he added. The attorney also referred to “a situation during the past ten years where contractors were assigned to various developments [and] the National Housing Corporation was not at all involved. “I am not saying that the minister was the person who personally selected those contractors, but you have situations where the contractors were selected, the ministry had no knowledge with respect to the selection of the contractors, none of the contracts went out to tender, the National Housing Corporation at the level of the chairman and the management of the National Housing Corporation did not know about the contractors,” he told the Lower House. The NHC’s challenge also included people not paying rents owed, and the minister said there were situations at the NHC “where tenants were specifically told not to pay rents, and rents have accumulated to the tune of $59 000”. In such circumstances, said Payne, “it is difficult for us to figure what we will do with respect to those persons who have applied to National Housing Corporation for housing because . . . the housing stock has been depleted.  (DN)

BAD PATH TO TAKE – Every effort must be made to ensure some public transportation remains in Government’s hand, and not allow the private sector to control it all. That was the call from the Barbados Workers’ Union (BWU) yesterday, as it gears up for a meeting with Transport Board workers on Sunday to discuss the organisation’s future. “We have been meeting with the Transport Board and it has put forward an idea of the vision, which the ministry and the chairman of the board together have for the future of transport,” Sir Roy Trotman, consultant to the BWU general secretary, said during a Press conference at Solidarity House. “And my concern is that we have to guard transport systems. If there are three important things in which a Government in office has to treat as a first social obligation [they] are medical care, education and transportation. (DN)

NEW ROUTE – Route taxi and minibus owners have delivered a fresh wish list – including a long-standing call for a bus fare increase – to Prime Minister Mia Mottley, the bus owners’ spokesman said today.  “That [bus fare hike request] is still very much on the table,” Mark Haynes, the AOPT public relations officer told Barbados TODAY.  The president of the Association of Public Transport Operators (APTO), Morris Lee, said the proposals followed the Prime Minister’s instructions to the body.  Industry stakeholders, including chairman of the Transport Authority Ian Estwick and Director Alex Linton met recently at Parliament Buildings to discuss progress on the proposals. But officials have continued to decline spelling out their details. “[The meeting] was just an update on what the Prime Minister has asked us to do, that we have done and sent back to her. We are waiting to hear what the Prime Minister’s response is going to be,” Lee told Barbados TODAY. “The Prime Minister told us to prepare a proposal that speaks to improvements in the sector. We did that. She further had instructed that when it was done, to pass it onto the Minister of Transport and have further discussions with him, which we have completed. And she indicated that after those discussions were completed that the Minister of Transport would report back to her,” he said.  The APTO president said that after this process was concluded, the Prime Minister would then summon another meeting to discuss the state of the transport industry.  “We have done what we were supposed to do in terms of compliance and therefore we are awaiting a response to the compliance that we have essentially participated in,” he added. Back in late August, one of the groupings of PSV owners insisted it still wanted a fare rise following talks with Prime Minister Mottley and Minister of Transport, Works and Maintenance, Dr William Duguid. Amid reports of a likely increase in fares from two to three dollars, the Alliance Owners of Public Transport (AOPT) has said it would continue to demand an increase for ZRs and minibuses until an agreement was reached with Government.  “The cost of the fuel tax [which took effect on July 1] has really placed a burden on the sector. We have that still on the table and we are in talks with the Government on an increase. We have been asked to submit proposals and we acceded to Government’s request,” Haynes stressed. The PSV owners have also complained that the new fuel tax of 40 cents per litre on diesel and gasoline, and five cents per litre on kerosene, was having a devastating impact on their businesses with spending for route taxis increasing to $6,741 from $2,250, while minibus operators are paying out $10,861, up from $3,625. Following the July 10 talks with the Government, Lee had said the owners were optimistic that their cries would be heard.  “We had a very productive meeting. Essentially the Government recognizes the significance of transport to Barbados and the contribution it has made over the years. We have agreed to come together on this because we understand that it would take more than one meeting. We have been given a blank sheet on which to draw on in terms of what we want to bring to reality,” Lee said then. The operators have also been seeking duty-free concessions on new vehicles. Despite calling for a bus fare hike, Lee expressed confidence that a solution could be arrived at that did not increase the burden to commuters or put additional drain on the public purse. (BT)

ROAD CHECKS VITAL – If Barbados undertook proper inspections of its major roads and highways it would save the country some valuable money when it came to road repairs. So says consultant engineer to Government, Grenville Phillips II, who is responsible for overseeing the Ministry of Transport, Works and Maintenance’s ongoing roadworks on the ABC Highway. He was speaking to the DAILY NATION Tuesday night as crews from C.O. Williams Construction were digging up asphalt on the section from West Road to the streetlights at the top of Hinds Hill, St Michael, in preparation for repaving. During the process, they discovered a number of deep cracks that had penetrated the underlying surface. Phillips said a continuous road inspection programme would also cut down on the time it took to fix them. (DN)

CONCESSIONS LEAKING REVENUE? – A top official of the International Monetary Fund (IMF) has suggested that Barbados and other Caribbean islands review the tax incentives they currently grant individuals and businesses. Deputy Division Chief in the Caribbean Division 1 of the IMF’s Western Hemisphere Department Dr Arnold McIntyre, expressed concern that regional governments could be losing millions of dollars in revenue from these concessions. This, he said, was not healthy given that the region was struggling economically. “When we look at what is underpinning these large deficits and we look at the revenue side, we have pervasive tax incentives,” McIntyre told the 33rd Adlith Brown Memorial Lecture at the Grande Salle of the Central Bank of Barbados on Tuesday night. He said IMF estimates suggested that legislative and discretionary tax incentives being granted by some Eastern Caribbean states were leading to revenue losses of between four and nine per cent of gross domestic product (GDP). “We have significantly undermined our revenue base. In many ways, the granting of tax incentives has been seen as a single panacea to overcome the widespread distortions and inefficiencies in the countries. That is, we have provided a solution but we haven’t tackled the problem,” he said. Pointing to Mauritius, McIntyre said that country’s parliament had decided some time ago to remove the ability to grant tax incentives from the authority of the minister, adding that “there is a lesson there” for the region. He said Caribbean economies also had weak expenditure controls, pointing out that there was especially “significant” fiscal risk in relation to state-owned enterprises. He explained that in the region central government finances amounted to about 8 per cent of GDP, compared to the five per cent of GDP in emerging markets. However, the economist said when government expenditure extended beyond central government to include the non-financial public sector, that wage bill could reach up to 20 per cent of GDP. “We have built up a very large state and what has happened, it has become costly and we don’t have the growth rates and associated revenue streams to maintain it,” he said.   (BT)

JOB SEARCH – Scores of displaced Government workers have been interviewed by recruiters from Ross University, which is set to start operation in Barbados from January next year. The interviews were held at the Warrens Office Complex, between 9 am and 4 pm. on Wednesday. Many of those interviewed had submitted their application letter and resumes online. There were also those who received word the interviews were taking place and turned up at the location, with their qualifications, asking for a chance to be interviewed. “Ross put out their vacancies and anybody can apply to those vacancies. Given the fact that we had persons displaced, she [the Prime Minister] had made the arrangement with Ross to interview Government workers and give them an opportunity to get their foot in the door,” Acting Director of the Barbados Employment and Career Counseling Service, Yvette Walcott-Dennis, told a Barbados TODAY team. The Acting Director said she was happy displaced workers were given a chance to be employed once again. She said her department was happy to be able to facilitate the process. “I think the interviews are going very well. Initially they had said they would interview about 75 persons, but today we had around 90 workers that we entered to be interviewed, and some persons still turned up anyways because they would have heard from a friend or something, and we asked that they be accommodated. “But, understandably, we know that we cannot accommodate everybody. The whole process though is a Ross initiative, they are filling their vacancies, we are just coordinating this end to assist the displaced public workers,” Walcott-Dennis said.  (BT)

CHILD CARE BOARD HEADQUARTERS TO CLOSE EARLY TODAY – The Child Care Board has advised that its headquarters, located at Cheapside, Bridgetown, will close at 12:30 p.m. today, Thursday, November 8. This closure is to facilitate attendance at a funeral for a former employee. Director of the Child Care Board, Joan Crawford, has advised that this closure will only be applicable to its headquarters and all other departments will remain open. (BGIS)

FRAUD OF NIS CHECKS – The National Insurance Department is reminding businesses that before they disburse cash for National Insurance Scheme (NIS) cheques, they should enforce strict procedures to verify the validity of cheques and the identity of the recipients of the funds. The department issued this reminder today, and indicated that it had received reports of fraudulent activity involving pension cheques. “Businesses are cautioned that banks, credit unions and post offices are the authorised institutions for the encashment of National Insurance cheques, therefore honouring such cheques would be at your own risk,” the department warned. (BGIS)

CCJ PRESIDENT RESPECTS THE OUTCOME OF REFERENDA IN ANTIGUA, GRENADA – President of the Trinidad-based Caribbean Court of Justice (CCJ), Justice Adrian Saunders, said that the court would continue “ongoing initiatives with justice sector bodies” in Antigua and Barbuda and Grenada despite the population in those two Caribbean Community (CARICOM) countries voting in favour of retaining the London-based Privy Council as their final court.  “While the news is not what we hoped for, we respect the people of both nations and their decision,” Justice Saunders said in a statement following Tuesday’s referenda in the two countries. “One of the positives that came out of this exercise is that there was sustained public education in both nations and the conversation about the CCJ intensified. We can see the fact that there was more interest in our website, ccj.org, and on our social media platforms, on LinkedIn and Twitter.” “As we begin to implement our strategic plan for the 2019-2023, which includes a renewed focus on public education, we will certainly be taking advantage of the increased audience, and the interest that has been piqued, to provide more information about the work of the Court,” Justice Saunders said. The governments in Antigua and Barbuda and Grenada had hoped to join Belize, Barbados, Dominica and Guyana as the only CARICOM countries that are full members of the CCJ that was established in 2001 to replace the Privy Council as the region’s final court. The CCJ, which has both an Original and Appellate Jurisdiction, also functions as an international tribunal interpreting the Revised Treaty of Chaguaramas that governs the 15-mdmber regional integration movement. Justice Saunders said despite the defeat, the CCJ “will naturally continue ongoing initiatives with justice sector bodies in each of these countries, and the wider Caribbean, through the JURIST project and otherwise”. The turnout in the referendum in both countries were low. In Grenada, of 21 979 votes cast, some 9 846 persons voted to adopt the CCJ as the final Court of Appeal, while in Antigua and Barbuda, there were 9 234 votes against and 8 509 votes in favour of the adoption of the CCJ.“These results will not, of course, deter us from serving with distinction those nations that currently send their final appeals to us. As well, the Court will also continue to process and hear applications from all CARICOM States, and from CARICOM itself, in our Original Jurisdiction, and our justice reform work in the region will also continue,” Justice Saunders said. The CCJ noted that Grenada has an Original Jurisdiction case currently before the Court and that the JURIST Project, which is a multiyear justice reform project being implemented by the CCJ on behalf of the Conference of Heads of Judiciary of CARICOM states, is working on a Sexual Offences Model Court to be housed at the High Court of Antigua and Barbuda in 2019. The CCJ Academy of Law is also hosting a legal conference in Jamaica in December 2018 at which jurists from both countries, as well as the wider Caribbean, are participating, the CCJ added. (DN)

JUDICIAL REFORM A MUST – Opposition Senator Crystal Drakes says with a price tag of over $30 000 a year to house an inmate in HMP Prison Dodds, Barbados has to look at “serious judicial review and reform”. She is also suggesting Barbadians should engage in self-examination to discover the motivation behind the kind of violence sweeping across the island. In her contribution to debate on the Offences Against the Person (Amendment) Bill 2018 earlier today, Drakes was worried about the rampant gun violence plaguing Barbados as well as the high level of incarceration at Dodds. She noted the Barbados Prison Service 2016 report put that figure at the end of December of that year at approximately 919 offenders, and argued because of what it was costing taxpayers to keep prisoners behind bars, “we now cannot simply say lock them up and throw away the key”. The Opposition Senator commended the Government on moving “towards a more holistic approach to sentencing” in amendments being made to sections of the existing laws. Government Senator Crystal Haynes supported the Amendment stating Government was taking meaningful action to address the crime situation. With 950 cases awaiting trial, it was appropriate she said, to have appointed three judges to address the backlog. “We really have to have a deeper conversation on how we as Barbadians see justice; how we administer it along with enforcement of penalties such as fines, community service, curfews,” Haynes said. She also suggested restorative and rehabilitative programmes should be discussed “openly and frankly”. (DN)

SENATOR MCCONNEY: START CRIME PREVENTION PROCESS EARLY – Government Senator Kay McConney has said if we use the current systems we have in place to deal with deviant behavior among school children more effectively, we should see a difference in the levels of criminal activity on the island. She made this point during her contribution to the debate on the Offences Against the Person Bill Amendment, which seeks to do away with the mandatory death penalty in murder cases. She mentioned the success of the Royal Barbados Police Force’s Juvenile Liaison Scheme, which caters to children up to the age of 16. “That scheme not only deals with the child but also their parents. Police officers charged with looking after it do not only deal with children who end up in trouble, but they also speak to principals about any potential ‘problem children’ in their midst. The last statistics I got from them date back to 2010, and showed that only about 20 per cent  of the children they were tracking found themselves back in the penal system after coming under the programme, which meant that 80 per cent of them stayed on the straight and narrow path.” Another programme she mentioned was the Princes Trust, which she said has reaped considerable success in its two years in existence here. “We have had  four cohorts with 12-15 young people between the ages of 16 and 25 and there are residential and community projects associated with it. So far, some 70 per cent  of the students who have passed through it have either gone back to school, vocational training, or found jobs.” Senator McConney said, “This level of primary intervention is important, and we should also consider studies determining the levels of peer contagion among our youth, that is, the people our children associate with influence their behaviour for better or worse, as this might be helpful in the long run.” Senator Lindell Nurse agreed with her suggestions, adding that “Every child should be involved in some sort of extra-curricular activity, whether it is Cadets, Scouts, Brownies, Guides, music, dance or sports, as these will keep them busy and bring about a level of discipline that will help them to resolve conflicts.” He also said a bigger issue was at hand. “We are fixing the legislative part of it, but you cannot legislate behavior and there are a lot of psychological issues behind criminal activity. Unfortunately Barbadians still stigmatize mental health conditions, but seeing specialists in that field may be helpful to people who find themselves in these situations.” (BT)

TIME WASTING – A prominent local attorney-at-law is fuming over what he sees as blatant time-wasting in the Barbados court system. This morning a frustrated Andrew Pilgrim QC questioned the logic of scheduling cases for dates that the magistrate is on vacation, thereby adding to the slowdown of an already overwhelmed system. Noting that that the issue is by no means new, Pilgrim, an outspoken and respected lawyer, expressed fresh annoyance in statement sent to Barbados TODAY. The release came after his clients, businessman Arthur Charles Herbert and Christopher Glenn Rogers, had their matters adjourned until March 27, 2019 when they appeared at the No. 1 District ‘A’ Magistrate’s Court on Tuesday. Sitting Magistrate, Douglas Frederick is currently on vacation. Meanwhile, co-accused Walter O’ Neal Prescod, a sailor, will return to court on December 4, this year. “Almost every media house yesterday referred to the fact that Charles Herbert, Chris Rogers and Walter Prescod will have to return to court for a new date and they will have to wait to have their matter resolved. I just wonder if anybody in Barbados is getting the bigger picture here that we adjourn matters to dates when we know there will be no hearing, deliberately wasting the time of litigants,” said Pilgrim, who argued that the occurrence only served to delay justice. In his four-minute lament, the attorney contended that it was not only his clients whose time is being wasted but he predicted that for the remainder of the month close to 40 litigants per day will turn up to the court in question in vain. “On every day probably during this month 40 or more Barbadians will turn up to the District ‘A’ Court Number one. There will be no magistrate and their time will be wasted for the entire day and their cases will not be advanced whether to be dismissed, tried or otherwise. It is a complete waste of our time that was avoidable,” he pointed out. This morning Barbados TODAY contacted the office of the Registrar of the Supreme Court Barbara Cooke-Alleyne QC, but efforts to get a comment on the claims were unsuccessful. However Pilgrim made it clear that there could be no reasonable excuse as vacations were planned in advance so therefore provisions should have been made. “ Either those cases should have been adjourned to a period when the magistrate would have returned or they should be dealt with by a magistrate who was put on while he is not there. Is it so hard to work out when the magistrates are going to be on vacation so that you could have someone holding on for them? If that is the case, then adjourn the matters to a date outside of the vacation,” he stressed. Pilgrim said “This is a whole month that is going to be a waste of time for 40 litigants everyday. This is time that Barbados does not have to give. We need our people to be productive instead of standing in a line outside of a court to get a date on which nothing will happen.” (BT)

NEW COURT DATES FOR DEATH ROW CONVICTS – Almost a dozen inmates who are currently on death row at Dodds prison will have to be resentenced once the Offences Against the Person Bill 2018 is amended. That is the word from Leader of Government Business in the Senate, Senator Dr Jerome Walcott, as he spoke today during debate on the amendment which seeks to repeal the mandatory death sentence for persons convicted of murder in Barbados. He said the Caribbean Court of Justice (CCJ), the island’s highest appellate court, had already ruled that it was unconstitutional. “They are currently 11 persons who are on death row in Barbados and based on this ruling, they will now have to be resentenced because their sentences are now considered by the CCJ to be unconstitutional,” Dr Walcott said. “There are 62 persons awaiting trial for murder and six for manslaughter. If we were not to pass this bill today, it would put our judicial system in a quandary. You would have 68 persons who are there to have trials done and at the back of that, at the end of it all, judges will know that they are confined by the mandatory death sentence, but if they convict someone and sentence them at the end of the day they know that the CCJ has already ruled that that is unconstitutional.” Dr Walcott explained that the amendment was not about removing the death penalty from the statute books. However, he contended that Barbados had signed on to several conventions which clearly state that a mandatory death sentence was not lawful. “I believe that we are in a bind. We have survived over the years. We have discussed and we have utilized our mandatory death penalty and we have debated it. We have made promises to amend it. We’ve made promises to the UN and we’ve made promises to the Inter-American Court of Justice, but I think our reckoning time has now come.  (BT)

REPORT ORDERED – The Magistrate’s Court has asked for a probation report on a 26-year-old man who pleaded guilty to drug possession. When Chad Aaron Lynton, of Corner of 4th Avenue, New Orleans, St Michael appeared before Magistrate Kristie Cuffy-Sargeant today he admitted that he had five grammes of marijuana in his possession yesterday. Police were on duty in Lynton’s community when he was seen riding along a footpath. He jumped off the bicycle when he saw the police and began walking back in the direction from which he came. He was detained when he entered a nearby shop. Lynton was given a February 1, 2019 date to return to the No. 2 District ‘A’ Magistrate’s Court after his $1,500 bail was accepted. (BT)

BAIL ON ASSAULT CHARGE – A 26-year-old Guyanese man accused of assaulting his wife is now on $5,000 bail. Khayum Kharoon Nazmoon who lives at No. 2 Apartments Villa Road, Brittons Hill, St Michael is alleged to have committed the offence against Premawattie Katwaru on October 22 occasioning her actual bodily harm. The prosecutor had no objections to bail but asked Magistrate Kristie Cuffy-Sargeant that the accused surrender his passport to the District ‘A’ Magistrate’s Court and requested that he stay away from his wife. The order was made and Nazmoon, who was represented by attorney-at-law Samuel Legay, was released after his surety was accepted. The accused will make his second appearance in court on January 29, 2019. (BT)

COSTLY TRIP – Drug trafficker Tyrique Kheele Michael Cuffie who arrived in Barbados on Monday with more than his personal effects in his suitcase is facing two years in prison. The 21-year-old Canadian from Lombard, Toronto, was sent to HMP Dodds today after he was unable to pay a $20,000 fine by the end of the day’s sitting at the Oistins Magistrate’s Court. Cuffie arrived at the Grantley Adams International Airport on around 3:39 a.m. Station Sergeant Glenda Carter-Nicholls said he then proceeded to customs where his suitcase was searched and 20 vacuum-sealed packages containing a vegetable substance were found. “I know drugs in my suitcase,” Cuffie allegedly told police when asked to account for the 7.6 kilogrammes of marijuana which had an estimated BDS$60,800 street value. Addressing Magistrate Elwood Watts, Cuffie apologized for his actions before the fine was imposed on the charge on importation. He was convicted, reprimanded and discharged on the charges of possession, possession with intent to supply and possession with intent to traffick the illegal substance. (BT)

NSC LIGHTS STILL OFF – THERE was still no light at the end of the emergency meeting, as the floodlights at a number of National Sports Council (NSC) facilities will remain off for the time being. A furious NSC chairman Mac Fingall says the issue of tampering and vandalism of token boxes must come to an end, following the thousands of dollars which the sports council lost due to illegal usage of the lights. It comes after a more than two-hour long meeting on Tuesday night at the Garfield Sobers Gymnasium chaired by Fingall, at which players, coaches and administrators of local sports took the opportunity to voice their concerns about the situation. General secretary of the Barbados Football Association (BFA), Edwyn Wood, director of cricket at the Barbados Cricket Association (BCA), Stephen Leslie, and president of the Barbados Road Tennis Association, John Chandler, were all present. Two weeks ago, Fingall revealed that Barbadians had cheated the NSC out of a large sum of money. He said at least $560 000 was lost in lights last year.  (DN)

SENIOR FAILURE – Despite an abysmal international record after 10 years in West Indies colours, middle-order batsman Kieron Pollard’s place in the team has been justified by outgoing coach Stuart Law. Speaking after the Windies’ loss in the second Twenty20 International against India yesterday, Law said Pollard was a motivator in the dressing room and quite capable of performing on his day. Pollard has made 20 runs in two innings so far and his solitary over in a tight situation in Kolkata went for 12 runs and shifted momentum towards the hosts. India were reeling at 57 for 4 at one stage. But Law said Pollard brought much more to the table, and not just on the cricket field. “Pollard brings a lot, both on and off the field. With the youngsters in the squad, it’s someone like Pollard who motivates them in the dressing room. “He’s a senior member of the squad, and we all know what he’s capable of when he gets going. But yeah, Pollard isn’t in the side only because of what he brings inside the ground. He’s one of the biggest motivators of the youngsters, and he’s just a game away from reminding us why he’s such a T20 force. Look, Pollard himself would not be pleased with his show on the tour so far, and he’ll be itching to finish the series in a blazing manner.” After 101 One-Day Internationals, the burly Trinidadian has managed just 2 289 runs at an average of 25.71 with three centuries and nine fifties. The white ball specialist’s record in T20I is even worse, having played 58 matches, scored 788 runs at 19.70 with just two fifties. His List A record is just slightly better with 3 134 runs at an average of 26.55 with three centuries and 15 fifties. In 433 T20s played across the globe in franchise cricket, Pollard has amassed 8 531 at 30. 14. Law addressed the potential of the squad, noting there were a number of fantastic cricketers in the team “We have got some fantastic T20 players. But, now it’s just about playing for pride. It’s time for them to dig deep and play for pride, and give it everything in the last game. If we play anywhere near to our potential, we can beat any team on the day. We need to improve a lot to get to that stage.” “The team does have a lot of potential, and ‘potential’ is a horrible word because talk is cheap and actions speak louder. But it’s the experienced guys who need to stick their hands up and do the bulk of the work. They’re supposed to usher the youngsters in, but they’re not quite doing that. It’s a young team, though, and they’re learning on the job. Regardless of being the current T20 champions, we don’t have the same team here and learning on the job against India in India can be mighty tough.” The West Indies will now travel to Chennai earlier than the hosts as the India players embark on a two-day Diwali break. But with the series already decided, there’s an opportunity for them to field left-handed hard-hitter Sherfane Rutherford possibly in place of Pollard, and the left-arm quick Obed McCoy in the final T20I to see what those two bring to the table. Captain Carlos Brathwaite bemoaned the fact that West Indies were without two designated opening batsmen. Brathwaite said that the makeshift approach taken by the management – with regards to their opening pair – had forced the West Indies to always have a rocky start with the bat in the series. In the first game in Kolkata, West Indies’ opening pair of Denesh Ramdin and Shai Hope – neither batsmen are regular T20I openers – lasted all of 15 deliveries, scoring only 16 runs between them, while in Lucknow, a new opening pair of Hope and Shimron Hetmyer fared only marginally better with a combined tally of 21 runs in 22 deliveries. With Chris Gayle and Evin Lewis opting out of the series due to personal reasons, Brathwaite said that the team was simply trying to make do with the resources that were available to them. “We didn’t come to the tour with an out-and-out opener, so we are still trying to find our best opening combination. There were a few theories in the first game and also this game, on how we wanted our batting order, for different reasons. Ultimately neither worked, because we failed to get a good start. But we’re working with the players we have on tour, and it’s difficult to choose the best batting pair, but we’re trying. Up until a theory works out, it will look bad and give the pundits something to say,” Brathwaite said. While expressing disappointment at the team’s bowling in the second T20I – including his own – Brathwaite heaped praise on right-handed batting all-rounder Fabian Allen, who bowls left-arm orthodox spin. Alleyne has bowled well in both matches so far. “The way Fabian Allen bowled in the middle, and he kept the openers under wraps and eventually got Shikhar out. It is hard to look at the negatives sometimes, just need to take the small positives and go away with them.”  (BT)

HOME BOYS BOW OUT – Predictably, mighty United States ruled the pristine conditions and waves on the East Coast at Bathsheba yesterday, but not a single hometown boy advanced to the quarter-finals of the Live Like Zander Pro surfing event at the Soup Bowl. Jacob Burke, Caleb Rapson and Ocean Gittens all failed to make it through to the quarters of the event named in memory of Barbadian surfer Alexander Venezia, who died last September. The United States landed 14 of the last 16 spots, with Japanese-American Taro Watanabe, delivering the best wave score of the day, an impressive 9.5, that comprised four impressive manoeuvres.  Burke was arguably the best of the Barbadian juniors on show, but he had to settle for third place in Heat 5 behind Crosby Colapinto of the United States and Thomas Debierre of France. This event for entrants under the age of 18, carries a first prize cheque of US$2 500.  (DN)

For daily or breaking news reports follow us on Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter & Facebook. That’s all for today folks. There are 55 days left in the year. Shalom! #thechasefilesdailynewscap #thechasefiles# dailynewscapsbythechasefiles