#id have to organize them but i think i have eight sets with box to sell at least. and some bgrade boxes too

[spearxwind]

Hey, would anyone be interested in some fish serigraphy prints I made a couple years back in uni? I made them in sets so there's a few complete sets that come with a little box, and then i have some individual ones that cant be made into a set (both repeats and b-grades)

There's twelve designs total. Ten of them are of real irl fish and two of them are based on the monster concepts I developed for my comic DEEP

Ive had them sitting around for a while and i just keep forgetting to post about them constantly haha

They'd be 110eur per complete set (12 prints plus a handcut box thing) and 10eur per individual print (plus shipping for either case)

[jihyuncompass]

A Birthday Visit

Well well well would you look at that. My very first Tears of Themis fic is for Marius’s birthday who could have guessed (anyone who knows me) Happy Birthday Marius, I can’t wait to see you again <3

For future reference, this fic was written for Marius’s 2021 birthday. As of yet Tears of Themis has not been released for the English audiences. I have played the beta but there is a chance Marius will be a little out of character as a result of the timing. 

Summary: You visit Marius’s work to celebrate his birthday with him, even if he’s a little busy 

Marius x MC

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: N/A

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The PAX building was an intimidating one. That thought always came into your mind when you approached it. While the Law Firm was also one of the large skyscrapers that made up the Stellis skyline, the PAX building was taller, and quite the intimidating addition to said skyline. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d been here, far from it, but it was rare for you to go into PAX for a non professional reason, or without being explicitly invited by Marius. You looked up at the building, even without meaning to your eyes focused on the window you knew belonged to Marius’s office. There was a good chance he was in there right now. 

Adjusting your bag over your shoulder you walked through the doors and into the bustling first floor.  

You walked through the groups of professionally dressed employees standing to chat idly, or summarize the recent meetings they had. Or stop to enjoy their coffee for a little while before getting back to work. 

“Welcome to the PAX group.” One of the receptionists started as you walked to the desk. “How can I help you today?” You cleared your throat, speaking as eloquently as you can. 

“Hello, I’m here to see Mr. Von Hagen? I’m a friend.” You said to the receptionist. She raised an eyebrow and looked up at you. Scrutinizing your appearance.  

“I’m sorry, Mr. Von Hagen doesn’t see anyone without a meeting.” You pressed your lips together, 

“I can promise you he’s a good friend of mine, it’s his birthday and-” 

“I’m sorry I have no way to verify that you are who you say you are.” The receptionist said. You reviewed your options in your head, clearly she wasn't going to let you go up there on the promise of being a friend. 

After a moment of brainstorming an idea came to you, digging through your bag you showed the receptionist your work ID badge, listing you as a lawyer for the Themis Law Firm. 

“I’m also Mr. Von Hagen’s personal lawyer, he knows who I am.” The receptionist squinted at the ID, hesitant of it’s quality and authenticity. After typing at her computer briefly she sighed and relented. 

“Aright, I do see your name here. I’ll let you up there and I’ll give a call to Mr. Von Hagen’s assistant to let them know you’re here.” You thanked her and hurried to the elevator. The first challenge was dealt with, now it was just time to go through with the rest of the plan.  

You piled into the elevator with a group of suited men heading to what you assumed were their own desks and offices throughout the building, but you’d be one of the only people going as far up, to nearly the top floor where Marius’s office would be found. 

The elevator was nearly empty by the time you made it up, only a few people exiting with you. 

One of Marius’s assistants was waiting for you on the other side of the elevator. They greeted you as you approached them. 

“Good afternoon.” They said. “I’m afraid to say that Mr. Von Hagen has been stuck in meetings all day so I’m not sure if he’ll be able to see you.” 

You pressed your lips together, you should have asked him in advance, he was usually busier than he always let on. 

“Well I just have a couple things I want to show him, I’m happy to wait for when he has a spare moment.” The assistant seemed unsure but shrugged. 

“Very well, I’ll take you to his office, you can wait there. I’ll let him know that you’re there.” You followed the assistant down the long hallway to the office at the end, the largest by far, belonging to Marius. 

The assistant closed the door behind you, the office was neat and tidy as it always was. Although it was Marius’s office, you were always a little disappointed by just how little of Marius seemed to be in the office. The sleek professional furniture, the carefully organized files, cup full of standard ballpoint pens didn’t seem like Marius. The rebellious, creative and playful Marius you knew well and had grown to adore. 

Sitting on the couch in his office you decided to make use of your time by setting the present you’d gotten him out on the table, along with the small cake box. With your job and caseload you hadn’t had the time to make a particularly fancy or intricate cake. But something small the two of you could easily share.  

You hummed to yourself gently as you got everything set up. Your eyes focused on the work in front of you. So much so you didn’t even notice as the office doors opened while your back was turned. 

“So.” A voice said from behind you. The sudden noise startled you, making you jump. Quickly turning around you were face to face with Marius. Dressed with a full suit, although he had that playful gaze he kept around you. Seeing him, your shoulders relaxed, and a smile crossed your face. “I heard you wanted to see me.” 

“I hoped I could catch you for a minute for your birthday.” You explained to him. “I should have asked about your schedule, I wouldn’t have come if I knew you were so busy.” Marius shook his head. 

“Nah I’m glad you’re here. It’s a perfect surprise.” Marius looked past you and to the table behind you where everything was set up. His eyes lighting up with that almost childlike excitement he got. However that excitement was quickly clouded. 

You frowned. “You don’t have a lot of time huh?”

Marius hesitated to answer you. “I don’t have a lot of time, I have a meeting in a half hour.” 

As you looked from Marius to the table you straighten your back and beamed at him. “Well then let’s make this a fun half hour! Enjoy the time we have.” With this the playfulness returned. The Marius you loved to see. 

Sitting beside one another, you made quick work of slicing the cake into two even slices for the two of you. 

“I’m afraid it’s nothing fancy.” You said. “But I have no doubt it tastes good and that’s what matters, doesn't it?” 

“Did you make it?” Marius asked, a brow raised curiously. 

“I did, I’m not a baker though so be warned.” Marius picked up the fork, picking up the perfect bite of cake to get both the cake and the frosting on top. Watching him closely you made note of his reaction. “What do you think?”

Marius nodded. “It’s good, I think I would even say I’m impressed.” You relaxed against the couch. 

“I’m glad you like it.” You said. “I was worried it wasn’t going to be very good.” You took a bite to taste it yourself, the sweetness of the cake hitting your tongue immediately. You’d had better cakes, but still you couldn’t deny the little part of you that was proud of what you’d made. 

Not wanting to waste your time you quickly leaned forward to push some presents closer. This seemed to grab Marius’s attention away from the cake in his hand. He set it down to pick up one of the gifts, looking over the basic wrapping paper. 

“Go ahead.” You encouraged. “Open it up! Take a look.”  Marius stared with the smallest one, quickly tearing off the paper without much thought. He pulled out two tickets, reading the tiny text on them. “They’re for an upcoming art exhibition I read about online, I thought it’d be fun to go together. I don’t know nearly as much about art as you do but maybe you could teach me some stuff.” 

Marius smirked. “I guess I could spare some of my expansive art knowledge to impart some on you.” 

Holding back from rolling your eyes instead you gave him your best genuine smile. “I would love that. I’d love to learn from you.” Marius seemed pleased by this, as evidenced by the redness that quickly started growing on his face. Looking back at the gift he tried to get himself back under control. 

Similar to the first gift Marius tore the wrapping paper off the second one. This one, a hand held sketchbook, bound nicely with a leather cover, his initials MVH put onto the front. A small note you’d written scribbled onto the first page. 

“This is-”

“Well, you’re always working so hard here, or studying hard at university, and I know you would probably much prefer to be in your studio painting. So, that’s a little sketchbook, one you can carry anywhere.” Flipping through the pages, Marius’s expression turned soft, warm, happy, not holding that playful spark. “I know you probably could afford any notebook in the world, but this one is customized just for you, not another one of these exists just like it.” 

The softness in his face stayed even when he looked up at you, even when he looked down again. 

“Thank you, for this.” He held it carefully in his hands, as if he was afraid of damaging it too soon. Before he could even put pencil to paper for the first time. There were still a couple gifts left, but you let him linger on that one. Trying to memorize every single second in your mind. 

The rest of the gifts were more basic things, special sweets, some art supplies you’d seen when you passed by the art store on your way home. Despite how basic many of these smaller gifts were, he never seemed ungrateful, and equally happy to see each one. 

All the presents unwrapped, and cake nearly finished you both sat together happily. Looking at Marius with the initial excitement wearing off you started to see the exhaustion peeking through. The heaviness in his eyes, the way his shoulders were stiff yet slumped. He looked tired, worn out already. 

“Your assistant said you’ve been in meetings all day?” 

Marius rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, PAX has a big thing coming up. I’ve been in meetings since eight. This is the first break I’ve had all day.” As he spoke he loosened his tie, letting it release some of the tension in his shoulders and neck. 

“You look exhausted.” You said. He sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Have you been resting?” 

Marius’s eyes opened again. “I was at my studio late last night. But I’m fine.” 

You looked more concerned, you doubted he was really resting enough. With everything he did, there was no possible way he was letting himself take breaks. Even on his birthday he seemed to be working full steam ahead. 

“Marius, why don’t you lay down for a bit? Let yourself rest?” Marius looked over at you, as if he was trying to think through it, crunching the numbers in his head. Gently touching his shoulder you turned him to face you, his eyes raised to look at your face. You loosened up his tie some more and unbuttoned the top button on his dress shirt to let him relax. 

 “Come on.” You said in a soft voice. “Rest for a little bit.” 

He considered this for a little while longer. Then let long a long sigh, he let himself lean forward enough to rest his forehead against your shoulder. Reaching up you rubbed his back, gently massaging to let him relax against you. 

“I can’t rest for long.” Marius muttered. “There’s that meeting-”

“Something is better than nothing.” You reminded him. “How about you lie down? You can rest with me until your meeting.” He was still for a little while longer, then lifted his head long enough to move. 

Marius’s head was laying in your lap. You gently played with his hair, running your fingers through the strands. Marius’s eyes slipped closed, his breaths long and even. 

“My meeting-” 

“I’ll get you up when it’s time. Rest right now.” You told him. He sighed and let himself fully rest. 

“Thank you.” He muttered. 

“Happy birthday Marius.” You whispered to him. Watching him rest, you couldn’t help but smile. This moment was going to be over sooner than later, soon he’d have to get up and get himself cleaned up, he’d go to that meeting, and then the next one and the next one until he could call it a day. He’ll probably go to his studio again, even if he’s exhausted. He’ll try and get some rest, but eventually he’ll get up and start it all again. 

But right now he’s with you and resting. Enjoying the short break he could afford. Maybe not the best birthday one could have, but one that was more than happy. 

[jemelle]

reflections {ncis}

rating: g

pairing: n/a, ziva david & abby sciuto

summary: 'Family. That’s what they are, aren’t they?' (or: Ziva & Abby celebrate Hanukkah)

a/n: set season 3 aka 2005. written for day 10 of the holiday special organized by @blakes-dictionxry, though i did stretch the prompt (when do i not?) i’m not Jewish, so if i’ve misrepresented something, please let me know! thank you for reading and chag chanukah sameach!

my masterlist

you can also read this story on ao3 here!

“There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it." – Edith Wharton

Ziva is supposed to be on vacation. Right now, she should be at a nice hotel outside of Annapolis, taking a bubble bath and reading the kind of magazines that Tony would never let her live down. It’s the day after Christmas, after all. Judging from the way some people in this country act, if anyone should be able to convince people to hold off on committing crimes for a few days, it’s the Christian God. Yet somehow, she’s still at work.

The phone call had come at eight in the morning, jolting Ziva out of a rare lie-in. She had reached for the receiver in the darkness, cursing loudly in Hebrew as her hand banged into the lamp on the side table.

“What is it?” she had groused without bothering to check the caller ID, voice still heavy from sleep. There was only one person who would dare disturb her this early, and she already had a good idea of what Gibbs was going to say.

“We got a case,” was the response, much as she had expected. Ziva had sighed, hanging up and running a hand through her unkempt hair. She really did not get paid enough for this.

In the end, it had turned out to be a simple case. One hard look at the brother and he had confessed, a jealous rage taken too far. No red herrings, no international crime syndicates. A waste of their investigative skills, if she’s being honest. 

The case itself had finished around four in the afternoon, but then there was the paperwork, and it was entirely possible Ziva had been putting off last week’s work as well. By the time she’s finished all of that, it’s too late to drive to her (non-refundable, she feels the need to add) reservation if she wants to arrive at a reasonable hour.

She’s getting ready to leave, promising herself that she can still salvage what’s left of this day, when McGee tells her that she’s needed urgently in Abby’s lab. As far as Ziva can remember, she hasn’t asked Abby for anything recently, so she approaches the lab carefully, half-expecting to find a sobbing Abby on the floor. Why Tony and Tim expect her to be able to deal with emotions, she’ll never understand. She may be a woman, but Ziva thinks she’s proven time and time again that emotional connection is not her forte.

The lights are dimmed when Ziva rounds the corner into Abby’s lab, but Abby herself is nowhere to be seen. Instead, Ziva sees a neatly set table with two place settings and, strangely, a hanukkiah. 

Tonight is the second night of Hanukkah. Ziva knows that– she had packed her own hanukkiah in her suitcase, intending to light it and pray when she reached her hotel room. But, to the best of Ziva’s knowledge, Abby isn’t Jewish.

Ziva raps lightly on the door to the lab, watching as Abby emerges from a shadowed back corner of the room. She sure can hide, Ziva will give her that. 

“What is this?” Ziva asks, gesturing at the spread in front of her.

“Happy Hanukkah!” Abby says, as if that answers the question. She steps further out of the shadows and Ziva can see that she’s holding a frying pan. 

“Thank you.” Ziva is confused, to put it mildly. While she appreciates the sentiment, she's still no closer to understanding the rationale behind Abby’s actions.

“Well, I thought… you don’t really have any family in D.C, so I researched what to do!” Abby approaches the table, depositing what Ziva can now see are latkes on the plates. Leaving the pan on the nearest lab surface, she flicks on the lights, displaying blue and white garlands hung around the room. “I even got you a present!”

“Oh, Abby.” She really is touched, especially given the rocky start their relationship had gotten off to. This is a gesture she might expect from Jenny (well, at least the dinner portion. She doesn’t think Jenny has ever been one for tinsel), but Abby doing this is a true testament to her giant heart.

“But?” Abby prompts, and Ziva forgot that while Abby is kind, she is first and foremost always willing to speak her mind. 

Ziva feigns innocence, the best she knows how to. “But what?”

Abby pouts. “There’s a but, I can tell.”

No one is immune to the Abby pout. Ziva relents, sitting down in one of the chairs and motioning for Abby to join her.

“It is just that Hanukkah is not very big in Israel.” 

If Ziva were home right now, she would probably be helping to light Rivka’s family menorah, saying her blessings, and (Ziva’s personal favorite) having latkes and sufganiyot. When she was eight, Ziva had eaten so many sufganiyot that she’d sworn off them forever. Naturally, her family had never let her live that down. They had been a family once, before Eli had left and Tali had died and Ari had become someone she no longer recognized.

“It’s not?” Abby’s voice pulls Ziva out of her memories.

“No. It is a big deal in America because Christmas is such a big deal. Children see all their friends getting presents and they want them too. In Israel, Hanukkah is about family.” Sure, there are parties and festivals, but none of this extravagant gift-giving she has seen in America. Ziva has nothing against adapting traditions, but the American celebrations hold nothing of value to her.

Abby’s face falls, and Ziva mentally kicks herself. “It is lovely, though,” she says, reaching past Abby to dim the lights again. There. Without the garlands in sight, it reminds her much more of the Hanukkahs she remembers.

“I know I wasn’t always… the nicest to you,” Abby says, and Ziva laughs, because that is the understatement of the century. “But… I really like you, Ziva David, and even if I didn’t, you’re part of our family now.”

Family. That’s what they are, aren’t they? Though they are her team by definition, the word team can’t possibly encompass all they meant to her. 

Gibbs is the only one who knows her secret and the only one she would have trusted with it. Tony and McGee are always by her side, ready to insult or defend her at a moment’s notice. Ducky is an ever-friendly ear and Jimmy a kind presence. Ziva includes Jenny in her count as well, though she isn’t sure Jenny would have included herself; she is always watching out for them, playing the games none of the rest of them want. And here is Abby, so different from Ziva in almost every regard, trying to make her feel at home.

If she were more sentimental, Ziva would call it a miracle. She had lost her first family a long time ago, even if Eli and Rivka are still alive. That a group of people are willing to accept her, to give her a second chance, makes her heart swell and her eyes water in an utterly un-Ziva fashion.

A tear must escape her eye, because before she knows it Abby is handing her a tissue. Ziva takes it, only slightly mortified, dabbing at her eyes until they’re dry. 

“I am okay,” she says in response to Abby’s unasked question. 

Wordlessly, Abby pulls a square box out of her pocket and slides it across the table. It’s wrapped in patterned paper, sparkling white stars against a midnight blue sky. Ziva slides a careful finger under the seam of the paper, trying not to rip it. 

Inside is a plain white mug. Ziva picks it up with two hands, spinning it around to reveal a simple Z printed on it.

“Thank you, Abby,” she says sincerely, before chuckling. “Now Tony will not be able to pretend he accidentally forgot which coffee mug is his.”

Abby’s smile drops, and she looks as though she might cry. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, but no sound escapes. Ziva waits patiently, because getting information out of Abby when she’s not ready to speak is like trying to get an internationally wanted criminal to talk.

When she finally speaks, Ziva has to strain to hear her. “I’m sorry… it’s just that the way you said that reminded me of Kate. I miss her.”

“Kate sounds like a wonderful person,” Ziva says. When she had first joined, that might have been a lie. She had quickly gotten sick of hearing how amazing Kate had been, of trying to measure up to a ghost. Now, Ziva knows that she can’t try to be anyone but who she is, and she only wishes she could have met the woman who apparently was more than a match for Tony.

“She was,” Abby responds, and now she’s the one who’s crying.

Ziva leans across the table, letting Abby hold her hands while she sobs. After a little while, Abby lets go, wiping her eyes with another tissue pulled from the depths of her lab coat. Absent-mindedly, Ziva picks up the matchbox lying by the hanukkiah, turning it over in her hands.

“Do you know the story of Hanukkah?” she asks. Abby shakes her head, eyes still watery. Ziva smiles, letting her head fill with memories of Hanukkahs past, she and Tali and Ari all clamoring to be the one to tell the story.

“Well,” Ziva says, striking a match against the box and using the match to light the shammash, the tallest candle in the hanukkiah. She removes the candle from its holder, using it to light the first and second candles, before returning it to its place, Abby watching her raptly the entire time. “Although I could begin in many, many places, our story really starts with a temple in the city of Jerusalem...”

tags: @robins-gf, @chmpgneprblms

[bellemorte180]

Wanderlust: Chapter One

FBI Special Agent, Niklaus Mikaelson is sent to the small town of Mystic Falls, Virginia to investigate a series of murders. When a serial killer’s most recent victim, Caroline Forbes, saves herself from a horrible fate, Klaus cannot help but begin to feel drawn to her. However, it seems that he is not the only one.

A/N: Read the prologue, that was posted earlier today, first. 

Chapter One:

FBI Special Agent Niklaus, Klaus, Mikaelson surveyed the room. It was tidy and neat; not a single thing out of place with the exception of dog toys that lingered on the floor. He bent down and picked up a plush toy pig that had seen better days before tossing it into a basket by a brick fireplace that held an assortment of other toys. He took in the decor. It was modern but cozy. She had a small grey couch, yellow pillows and a soft blue blanket that lounged on the back. Her curtains were a soft blue, contrasting against the white walls.

A pair of used trainers were placed by the door, telling Klaus that she was a runner and by the state of her shoes, an avid one. By the fact that there was not a speck of dust or hint of dog hair lingering in the home, he could conclude that she was neat and very tidy. Given the array of cleaning supplies he found in the cabinet under the kitchen sink, he could conclude that she had some OCD tendencies. That and her closet was color coded, as was the mail that was neatly organized on her desk in her spare room that she had turned into a home office. Her MacBook remained untouched and shut; a notebook she clearly used for work lingering at its side. This was not a robbery, for valuable items still remained in their place.

Her bedroom was much of the same as the rest of the house. Neat and orderly. Her clothes were all folded, and her bathroom cabinets all held some organization system that made Klaus chuckle slightly. Her bed was freshly made and given the rest of the house; he was not surprised. Her comforter was white, but a plush dusty rose-colored blanket was folded neatly across the end of the bed. The throw pillows matched not only the blanket but the lamp shades on her bedside table. Inside the tables, Klaus found nothing out of the ordinary; some hand lotion, a book that Klaus recognized as some romance novel that was all the rage at the moment, an unopened box of condoms and a few sex toys. He made a mental note to find out who her closest friend was and have them retrieve those items. There were some things a parent did not need to know about their child.

He also found a small handheld pistol and a few rounds of ammunition in a box under the table. Given who her mother was, Klaus was not surprised that she would own one; and given what he could gather from her personality, the fact that the legal documentation associated with it was located in the spare office, filed away in an easy to use filing system was also unsurprising. Pictures lingered on the walls throughout the house. Her bright blue eyes, wide smile and genuine happy demeanor haunted him.

Caroline Forbes, twenty-eight years old, travel agent and daughter of the local Sheriff had been missing for a week and a half. By the state of her pictures she appeared well traveled; several pictures having been taken at various points across the world. According to her mother, Caroline was a planner with a hint of wanderlust; she would not simply take a trip without planning something or letting someone know ahead of time. Several of the pictures included trips with her dog and there was no way she would have left him behind. With the discovery of four bodies near the town’s Falls, the Sheriff requested assistance from the FBI, for fear that the bodies were connected to her missing daughter. When the case was presented to Klaus, he could not help but agree.

In truth, Klaus was tired. He had been chasing monsters for six years and the depressing manner of his job was eating at him. The victims lingered with him, even if he caught their monsters. He did this job because he wanted to give a voice to the victims who were unceremoniously silenced. This was his job, his career and one he was good at. However, He felt so much older than thirty-six. Looking at the bright eyes of Caroline Forbes, he knew those eyes would haunt him for the rest of his life. Someone with such life should not be stamped out. Klaus felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He reached behind him and pulled out his smart phone and answered the call.

“Marcel?” Klaus answered, his British accent pouring though the phone. He placed his hand on the desk and tapped his nails against it. While being in the FBI and chasing serial predators taught Klaus to be patient, it was still something he struggled with. He wanted answers and while he was able to play the cat and mouse game serial killers typically liked to play, Klaus was losing his patience with it. He was good at his job, this he knew; he was able to see into their minds and there was a diabolical side to him that could anticipate their next move. It was a darker side of him that he hated touching; wondering if that made him a monster as well.

“Find anything useful at the house?”

“No. It appears that she was grabbed before entering the house. No forced entry or any sign that anyone outside her mother had been to the house at all.” Klaus replied, hoping that there would be something of interest that would point to who was holding Caroline. Yet, all he learned was that Caroline was an interesting woman who had a full life. He was not sure how that made him feel in the slightest. “Which means this was a planned kidnapping. He would have known when she was coming home. So, I suspect someone local.”

“Well, the autopsy reports of all four victims came back. I think we have enough to name cause of death. The most recent body indicates strangulation.”

“Identifications?”

“Thank Jesus for dental records. A couple had missing person reports as well.”

“Good. I’m leaving now. Put a pot of coffee on for me, will you?” Klaus asked, knowing that he would need the caffeine and hung up the phone. That was something at least. Klaus took one last glance around the house, ensuring that everything was put back where he found it. Even though he doubted that Caroline would ever set foot in this home again, he did not want her to worry if she did.

After locking the house up behind him, Klaus drove back to the Mystic Falls Police Station. It was small and had not been updated since at least the mid-nineties but he had not really expected anything else. It was a small town with a low crime rate and until the possibility of serial murders, Klaus had never heard of it. That was not surprising; most of the places he had been too where because of some depraved soul wreaking havoc on the innocent.

He pulled his government issued SUV into the small parking lot. When he entered the station, he was taken aback by the disarray. A desk had been completely flipped and papers were littered all across the floor; a computer lay shattered on the ground. One of the officers whose name escaped Klaus, was on the ground with his head between his knees. Several other officers were patting him on the back; unsure of what the issue was, Klaus walked by them with a curious look and entered the conference room.

Like the rest of the station, the conference room was small; smaller than his office back in D.C. It had a few windows, a small round table and just enough room for a whiteboard to be brought in. The table held several photos of the Falls and the corpses before they had been moved to the morgue; as well as some photos of the marks on the bodies once they were examined by the coroner.

“What is with the commotion?” Klaus asked, eyeing Marcel who was putting a photo of all four victims on the board. These photos were the drivers license photos of the woman when they were alive, confirming to Klaus that Marcel was able to get a photo ID on each of the women. Marcel was a tall man with dark skin and black hair. Much like Klaus, he wore jeans and a simple T-Shirt but knowing Marcel well, Klaus knew that he had a more fashionable style when not on the job.

“One of the victims was his sister. The first one.” Marcel replied, pointing to the first photo. Klaus closed his eyes and sighed. It wouldn’t be the first time Klaus had seen the devastation a loss could bring; especially one so brutal. “Her name is Victoria Donovan, better known as Vicki. Last seen about fifteen months ago but according to her skeleton remains, she was murdered roughly a year ago.”

“Missing person report?”

“No.” That made Klaus pause, he reached over and picked up Vicki’s file, flipping through it. “Apparently Vicki was a drug addict and had a tendency to take off for long periods of time. When she went missing, everyone, including her brother, assumed she went off on a bender.”

“High risk victim then.” Marcel nodded in agreement while Klaus picked up a second file. “Okay what about her, April Young?”

“The next victim.” Klaus’s eyes flickered to the second photo. She looked nothing like Vicki. Vicki appeared to be tall while April was short. Both had pale skin but different coloring. April had jet black hair while Vicki had more of an auburn color. “She is from Mystic Falls but moved out of town shortly after she graduated. Her father is the local pastor.”

“Says here she was pregnant?” That made Klaus’s stomach drop. According to the medical records, April was early along in her pregnancy and would not have been showing. Good chance that her attacker did not know about the baby when he took her. “Also, no missing person’s report for her either?”

“Yes. According to the sheriff, Pastor Young is a very religious man. When April came home for a visit about a year ago and told him of her pregnancy, they had an argument. She left and from what everyone thought, she returned back to Richmond. Due to the nature of their disagreement, he had no idea that she was missing or who the father of her baby was.”

“And she had no friends? A job? Did no one miss this young woman?” Klaus snapped; tossing the file on the table. He understood why a report would not have been made for Vicki but April? What kind of father disowned their own child because of a baby? Why would no one come forward for her?

“I feel you man. Some people just don’t have anyone I guess.” Marcel replied. “As for her father, well, he will have a lot of soul searching to do after this. I guess we will have to go and let him know. I wonder how a father can turn their own child away when she clearly needed him the most.”

Look at your own father Klaus. Look at what he did.

Klaus shook himself from his thoughts, focusing on April’s photo. He picked up her autopsy again and read. She had been dead and in the ground by the Falls for nine months. Both April and Vicki’s bodies were far too decomposed to tell an exact manner of death; Vicki was nothing more than a skeleton. If it was not for her dental records, she wouldn’t have been able to be identified. He shook his head and turned to the next photo. He paused; recognizing that face.

“Wait. She looks familiar.” Klaus stated, staring at the third woman’s photo. He picked up the file. “Andrea Star. Why do I know that name?”

“Because she was a reporter from Charleston who went missing six months ago. Made national news.” Marcel replied. “She was originally from Mystic Falls before relocating to South Carolina for college and then eventually she started her career there.” Klaus nodded, reading over her autopsy report. “She was home for Christmas six months ago. She went missing after she left for her drive back down to Charleston.”

“She was murdered three months ago.” Klaus eyes narrowed, thoughts processing in his head. “Says here that she was strangled and….ugh oh god.” Andrea, better known as Andi, had a more complete autopsy report for the simple fact that her body was more intact. He put the file down and picked up April’s again. The same thing was reported but Klaus missed it the first time. A nauseating feeling rolled in Klaus’s stomach. This went beyond murder. How he mutilated the bodies only made him more infuriated. “Jesus Christ.”

“I know.”

“Okay, and what about...” He looked to the fourth victim. “Camille O’Connell? Is she also from Mystic Falls?”

“No. Never been actually.” That took Klaus by surprise. Thus far each of the victims had been born in Mystic Falls but had left. It was a pattern that he was catching onto but with Camille, it appeared not to be the case. “She is from New Orleans, my old stomping grounds, and there is a missing person report out of Boston. According to what the Boston office faxed over, her twin brother, a Sean O’Connell was expecting her in Boston three months ago. She never showed.”

“So, maybe she made a pit stop here. Meant to fill up on gas or grab something to eat. Wrong place. Wrong time.” Klaus replied, reading over the autopsy report. It had almost identical readings to the others, but the body was fresh; only two weeks old. The autopsy was able to note that the markings on her neck also indicated strangulation. There were bruising on her wrists and her inner thighs. She had malnutrition from lack of nutrients and her hair was knotted; clumps ready to fall out. She was pale and from the autopsy, it showed that she had little to no sunlight for a long while. Her body bore signs of the same twisted mutilation as Andi’s and April’s.

“What are you thinking?” Marcel asked. Klaus looked at his partner and sat the file down on the table. He stood and looked at Caroline’s photo was on the board. Victim number five and the only body that they did not have. Missing for almost two weeks.

“Caroline. Where did she work again?”

“A travel agency out of Richmond. She was the only one who still lived in town, with the exception of Vicki.”

“They leave. That’s the connection.” Klaus muttered, eyes darting from picture to picture. “Caroline commutes forty minutes each day to her place of employment and comes back to Mystic Falls. She is also known to enjoying traveling, at least according to the photos in her home. Camille was just passing through on her way to Boston. Andi was home visiting family but lived in Charleston. April also lived out of town and only came home to tell the news of her pregnancy to her father but never intended to stay. Vicki routinely leaves town for long periods of time on a drug binge. That is how he chooses his victims.”

“Because they never stay in Mystic Falls? Could be because it would be harder to track him that way.”

“No. If that was the case, the victims would all be like Vicki. Drug addicts or prostitutes. High risk. Not well-known reporters or travel agents who is also the daughter of the town sheriff.” Klaus replied and Marcel nodded in agreement. “Caroline. I think she is alive.” He reached down and picked up a black marketer out of the silver tray. He opened the cap, putting it between his teeth, and drew a long ling. “Vicki was last seen fifteen months ago but decomposition sets her time of death around a year ago. April, last seen a year ago but decomposition puts her time of death, nine months ago. Andi went missing six months ago but her body indicates death three months ago. Camille, went missing three months ago but she died only weeks ago.”

“He holds them.” Marcel added in, looking at the timeline. “He keeps them hostage for three months before he strangles them and then mutilates their bodies. He dumps the body by the Falls and kidnaps a new victim when the opportunity arises.” Marcel pointed to Caroline. “You said that there was no forced entry in her home?” Klaus nodded. “He planned to grab Caroline. He would have known when she would arrive home from work. The rest were convenient but knew enough that they were in town with plans to leave. Except Camille, like you said. Wrong place, wrong time.” Marcel paused. “There was a break between victims. Between April and Andi.”

“Most likely because there was no one in town who was planning to leave.” Klaus looked at Caroline’s photo again. “I suppose that since she still lived in town, he had not considered her yet. He is devolving. Caroline leaves but returns. If we don’t catch him, soon enough his paranoia will start believing that everyone will leave.”

“I hope you’re wrong on that for Caroline’s sake. If he is devolving, he may kill her quicker.”

“Yeah. I know.” He continued to look at the photos, the worst-case scenario running though is head. “Did you put coffee on?” Klaus asked and Marcel nodded, looking at the board. “I’m going to talk with the Sheriff. Maybe give her some hope that her daughter is still alive.” Klaus opened the door to the conference room and walked through the station. The mess had been cleared and most of the officers were at their own desks. Like on most cases, eyes followed Klaus out of curiosity and either respect or hostility depending on the case. Here, the town was shaken to the point that they would accept help, even from a British foreigner who just happened to work for the FBI.

Klaus walked into the small kitchenette and headed towards the coffee maker. Leaning against the counter was the officer who Klaus saw lose his temper. Klaus eyed him as he poured himself a cup of coffee before grabbing another mug. He was medium height, strong build and had blonde hair with blue eyes at Klaus’s sister would kill for.

“Donovan, right?” Klaus asked and the officer nodded his head as Klaus held out his hand. The officer took it and gave a firm shake that impressed Klaus.

“Call me Matt. Everyone does.”

“Klaus Mikaelson. Look, I’m sorry about your sister but my partner and I will do everything we can to figure out what happened to her.” Matt nodded his head but said nothing; his eyes watering again, and Klaus could tell that he was doing everything he could to not break down and lose his temper again. “Tell me about her.”

“Vick?” A small smile graced his lips. “Honestly, she was a train wreck. She was a year older, but I was always the one cleaning up her messes. Always the life of the party. Then again all she did was party, drink and get high. Never willing to try rehab or anything to better her life.” Klaus listened as he brought the coffee to his lips; drinking it slowly. “I keep replaying her last days over and over in my head.”

“What do you mean?”

“We fought. She told me that she was leaving town again. I tried to convince her to stay. Maybe, I don’t know, try and get her job back at the Grill. She was adamant that she needed to leave. She had been spending time with Damon Salvatore and I guess they ended things. Although, I don’t think it was serious at all. All I know is that she took off like a bat out of hell and I never saw her again.” Matt turned and punched the fridge before gripping the counter. “Damn it. I should have looked for her, but I thought that she just took off. I thought that she would come back eventually. She always did.”

“Hey. You did nothing wrong.” Klaus reached up and placed his free hand on Matt’s shoulder; giving it a tight squeeze. “Go home. Get some rest and take some time off. If you think of anything let me know. Okay?” Matt nodded and Klaus gave him another pat on the back before picking up the second coffee mug. He left the kitchenette and headed towards the Sheriff’s office. The door was closed but then she rarely left it open. Her office had two large windows that allowed her to see out into the station but the last few days had her keeping the blinds closed. Klaus had only seen the Sheriff out of the office for a few moments each day, and that was only to take Caroline’s dog to the bathroom, and Klaus was certain she didn’t go home. “Sheriff? Its Agent Mikaelson. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, come in.” Klaus bent down slightly in order to open the door with his elbow since his hands were full. He opened the door and then pushed it closed again with his foot. He sat a cup of coffee down in front of Liz who gave him a tired smile. She was not in uniform but instead jeans and an oversized shirt. Her hair was cut short but in disarray. The bags under her eyes indicated the little sleep she got, and Klaus wondered if she had eaten in days. The dog, a brownish colored mix with long hair that was resting in the corner padded over to him. “Hey Enzo. Being a good boy?”

“He has been prancing all afternoon. I think he is looking for Caroline.” Liz stated, gripping her mug tightly. “I got him for her when he was still a puppy. They bonded instantly and she spoiled him.” Klaus nodded with a small smile, remembering the large amount of dog toys that were in her house. On that thought, Klaus reached in his back pocket and pulled out a silver key. He handed it to Liz who gave him a smile as she took the key from him. “Did it help?”

“I think so.” Klaus replied, not wanting to tell her that he didn’t find much outside of getting to know her daughter. Typically, it was not done to include a family member in an investigation, but Liz was a cop and he was certain that she had no hand in the disappearance of her daughter or the death of the other woman. “Do you know if Caroline was involved with anyone? Was she receiving any threats?”

“No. Caroline was engaged about a year ago to Tyler Lockwood.” Klaus gave Liz a blank look. “The mayor’s son.” He nodded in understand. He saw no photos of a man in her home and her closet did not indicate that someone lived with her. “But he cheated on her and she kicked him to the curb.”

“Good for her.” There was a hint of respect in his voice. Everything he learned about Caroline both impressed him and saddened him. Her photos showed a woman who was so full of life be stamped out; but he had hope that the perpetrator held his victims for weeks at a time before killing them. If that was the case, there was still time to find her alive.

“Yeah. Caroline is stubborn and said she deserved better. Tyler tried to get back together with her, but she wasn’t having it.” Liz laughed lightly. “She is not one for mincing words and called him on in the middle of the Grill, in front of his mother. Tyler stopped bothering her after that.”

“Anyone else?”

“No. Caroline and Tyler were together for a long time. She dated Damon Salvatore for a few years during high school but that ended before she graduated.” Liz’s tone was dark, and Klaus made a mental note, that was the second time he heard that man’s name in the span of a few minutes. “Caroline was a relationship kind of woman, not one for one-night stands or anything like that.” Klaus thought back to the items in her bedside table and could agree that the untouched box of condoms showed that she didn’t have guest in her bedroom often.

“What about friends?” Klaus asked, knowing that it was good to know who Caroline associated with and incase the worse happened, he would let them know in case there would be anything that Caroline would not want her mother to see. A small detail in the autopsy report flashed in his eyes and he forced down some bile; some things Liz just did not need to know. “Who was she closest with?”

“Bonnie Bennet, and Elena Gilbert.” Klaus jotted their names down. “The three are inseparable. Elena is a medical student; she is doing her residency at the teaching hospital near Whitmore and Bonnie owns the bakery in town that she took over when her mother died. When the girls where in college, Caroline would always organize some kind of trip. She loved traveling and often did so for work; or at least that was her excuse to go see some part of the world.”

“A hint of wanderlust?”

“She got it from her father.”

“Where is her father?”

“Bill died about a year after she graduated high school.” Klaus nodded, offering his condolences. “We were divorced but we got on well enough. Caroline was always close with him. I did let her stepdad know that she is missing. Stephen asked that I keep him updated. Said he will come down when she comes home. I don’t think he can be here with…. without her here.”

“I didn’t realize you had remarried.” His eyes flashed to her hand and saw that there was no ring. That caused Liz to chuckle. Klaus looked at her confused. Enzo came padding over and whimpered at the door. Liz sighed and called the dog over again. The dog obeyed but continued to look at the door.

“I wasn’t. Stephen is Bill’s widower.” That startled Klaus but he hid his surprise well. Liz eyed him and he could almost see the upturn of her lips; amused by his reaction. Klaus could tell that despite the fact that she would have had to be devastated during the divorce, telling other’s that her ex-husband was gay brought some humor to her.

“I see.” Klaus replied giving her a small smile. He took the last sip of his coffee and placed the empty mug on Liz’s desk. On the corner of the desk, he could see a picture of Caroline in what appeared to be a cheerleading uniform. She appeared at least ten years younger in this photo and by the fingerprints on the glass, Klaus could tell that Liz held it often. Klaus picked up the photo and looked down at Caroline’s smiling face. “She seems so full of light.”

“She is.”

“Liz, I’m going to be honest with you.” Liz’s breath sucked in and she glued her eyes to Klaus. She did not know this man, but she was trusting him to find her daughter; but she also wasn’t a fool. She knew the chances were slim and with the bodies surfacing, it was clear that something terrible happened to Caroline. “Based on the autopsies and the pattern of the bodies, Marcel and I believe that he holds his victims for a long period of time before he kills them. If he continues with this pattern, Caroline could still alive.”

Suddenly, it was as though a dam broke inside of Liz. Tears streamed down her face and she couldn’t stop them. Hearing that there was a possibility that her daughter was alive caused all the emotions she kept bottled up to overflow. Enzo lifted his head and placed it in Liz’s lap; his nose nudging her hand. Liz raised her hand and patted the top of his head. Klaus reached over and picked up the box of tissues that were resting on her desk and handed them to her. Liz took them gratefully. She dried her eyes and Klaus waited for her to compose herself. He was expecting it and been around enough grieving mothers to know that such news would cause the tears.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” Klaus muttered. “I don’t say this to get your hopes up. I could be very wrong, but I hope I am not.”

“Caroline is a fighter. Even when she was a little girl, she always had something to say and never let anything stop her once she put her mind to something. If she was told she couldn’t do something, she set out to prove them wrong.” Klaus chuckled at that. “If she is being held somewhere, Caroline would fight. She would do anything in her power to save herself. I raised her to take care of herself and never to give up. She’ll be okay. I have to have faith in that.”

“Why don’t you go home Liz. Get some rest.”

“No.” Liz replied. “When Caroline was little, I told her that if she ever was in trouble, that she comes here. That if she came to the police station, I would be here, and I would protect her.” Liz insisted. She reached down and scratched Enzo’s ears. “He won’t leave either. It’s like he knows.”

“Dogs are funny like that. They sense things that we can’t.” Klaus looked down at Enzo and could tell that the pup was well loved; and very loyal to Caroline. For a second, he wondered if maybe there would be a way to use Enzo to track her; use her scent or something. Maybe he would contact the field office about having K9s sent out into the woods and maybe they could pick up her scent. His focus would be to find Caroline and bring her home. “Have you eaten anything?”

“No. I-“ Liz was cut off by Enzo going wild again. He started whimpering and ran to the door, scratching at it widely. Liz called to him, but he completely ignored her. Seconds later, the office door burst open and a deputy ran through it; a wild look on his face. Enzo scampered out the door and Klaus could hear him barking incessantly at something.

“Sheriff. It’s Caroline. She is alive.” Liz bolted from her seat and was out the door before Klaus could even move. Quickly, Klaus ran out of the office and through the small station. He ran into Marcel, who was in the same mind set as him. They followed the voices and the sound of Enzo’s barking. Once they reached the lobby, Klaus took in the sight before him. Officer’s upon officers were crowded in the lobby but were giving the woman who held their attention a wide birth. Enzo was barking and jumping, trying to get her attention while Liz was slowly approaching her as though she was an injured and wild animal.

Caroline Forbes was standing in the middle of the police station, her blue eyes darting around frantically. Her breathing was labored, as though she had just run a long distance. Klaus took in her appearance. Her blonde hair was weighed down by grease, indicating that it had not been washed in days; if not longer. Twigs and leaves were stuck in her hair and her skin appeared dirty. She was barefoot and by the bloody footprints on the station’s tile floor, Klaus assumed she had run as fast as she could with no shoes on; not stopping despite the fact that her feet were being torn to shreds. Klaus noticed that she cradled her left arm to her chest and from what he could see, there was purple and yellow bruising up and down her arms.

She wore a pair of black slacks that he assumed she had on during her abduction. While they were torn, crinkled and dirty, they appeared to be the kind that a professional would wear to the office. Her white tank-top that was tucked into her pants had several tears through them and had dark brown spots that Klaus could not tell if it was dirt or blood. Her skin was very dirty, and he could see spots of dried blood that stuck to her. There appeared to be a cut on her forehead that seemed fresh, seeing that there was a small trickle of blood sliding down her face.

“Caroline, sweetie? It’s mom. Okay. I’m here.” Liz stated in a calm voice that amazed Klaus. Any other mother would have run up to their daughter and took her into her arms, no matter the condition their daughter was in. Klaus took a moment to remember that Liz was also a cop and a damn good one from what he had seen. Slowly, Liz approached Caroline with one hand outstretched. “It’s me Caroline. I’m not going to hurt you. Okay? No one is going to hurt you again.”

“Mom?” Caroline focused on Liz and her eyes narrowed. Her voice was hoarse as though she had been screaming for a long period of time. Given the situation, Klaus was willing to bet anything that she had been. “I’m okay? I made it?”

“Yeah, baby. You made it.” A look of relief flashed across Caroline’s face and tears started to fall down her cheeks. Her knees gave out and Liz caught her easily; bringing her daughter’s head to her chest. The pair sunk to the ground but did not let go of one another. Caroline let out a howl that echoed off the police station walls; sounding as though a wild animal had been injured. Caroline cried into her mother’s chest while Liz continued to rock her; kissing the top of her head in comfort. Enzo laid down beside Caroline, getting as close as possible he could to his master. Caroline, with her good hand, reached out and brought the dog to her chest the best she could and just held him close.

A/N: Thoughts????? Theories. I am really looking forward to hearing your thoughts and theories on what is going on. I am going to drop a lot of hints and clues in this story; so I welcome theories on who is the killer.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Save Him

A Stitched Story

JSE Fanfic

Oh, I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. I’ve had this planned out for a while. Notice how pretty much every one of the boys except Jack has been permanently injured? Wonder how Jack feels about that...probably not too good for someone who loves his friends so much. Also, read until the end, I promise it’ll be worth it :D

Tagging @septic-dr-schneep for inspiring this AU with this post.

Read the past stories: Stitched Together | The Start of the Nightmare| The Silent Night | Speak No Evil | The Static Speaks Their Names | Shot in the Dark

“But thank you guys so much for watching, if you liked this video, punch that like button in the face, like a boss! And! High fives all around. Wh-pssh! Wh-pssh! But thank you and I’ll see all you dudes...in the next video!” The moment he was done with the outro, Jack dropped his smile, slumping deeper in the chair. Not for the first time, he considered taking a break from YouTube. The stress of making videos every day, on top of everything else—and he was recording videos for Chase’s channel, too, just to make sure nobody started getting suspicious about where he’d gone. If someone called the police on his missing nature, he doubted they’d be able to do anything, and it would be better if no one else got mixed up in this.

Jack turned off the camera, and then the computer. He swiveled his chair around and stood up, stretching. His work for the day still wasn’t done. He left his recording room and came out into the hall. This was a fairly big apartment, but it was still an apartment. There was a tiny room he’d chosen to record in, a bathroom, a living room, a small dining/kitchen combo, and two bedrooms. Everything was packed close together. It only took about five steps to get from the recording room door to the guest bedroom door. As Jack opened the door, he thought that it wasn’t quite a “guest” room anymore if the person staying inside couldn’t really leave.

There had been no change in Schneep’s condition in the two months since...well, they didn’t know exactly what happened. It wasn’t like Schneep could tell them. They’d tried everything to get some sort of reaction, anything, from him, but their efforts were in vain. It was like he was in a coma. One where your eyes were open and dripped static tears all the time.

Jack ran through the motions of checking on him. There’d been no change from yesterday. He was still lying on the bed in the exact same position. Jack had told the hospital that Schneep was on vacation, de-stressing indefinitely. He’d also used Schneep’s ID to get in and, well quite frankly, steal some medical supplies. There was an IV and a heart monitor, steadily beeping just like it had been doing for weeks now. Jack couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more he could be doing, but...god, he didn’t know. He didn’t know any sort of medical shit. He didn’t know anything about magic or the occult or whatever the fuck this was. Why couldn’t he actually do something?

“Schneep,” he sighed. “I wish...I wish a lot of things. But I wish you hadn’t gone after him alone. I wish we were all together here now. All of us.” He patted his shoulder. Maybe he could hear and feel him, somewhere in there. “Wake up soon. Please.” Then he turned and walked away, looking back one more time before turning off the lights and closing the door.

He left the room and started to turn down the hall, immediately running into JJ. He startled, backing up a couple steps. “Jesus, dude, you startled me. Didn’t hear your footsteps or anything. Did you want something?”

JJ was clutching a piece of paper tight to his chest. He was bouncing on his feet nervously, adjusting his mask with one hand. Quickly, as if he was trying not to talk himself out of it, he shoved the piece of paper toward Jack, then retreated a few steps down the hall.

Jack blinked, confused for a second before looking at the sheet of paper. There was cursive writing on it, which Jack recognized as JJ’s handwriting. He read the words: Jack, I have been doing some thinking during these last few weeks, and I have decided that there is more I can do. I’ve been avoiding going home, simply because I have been scared of what happened there. But I can’t let that stop me from helping you any longer. I can’t stand by and watch my friends get picked off. So, if you will agree to accompany me, I would like to go back to my home. There are some heavier magick spells and magic books in the apartment above my shop that could be of use. I hadn’t thought the situation serious enough to consult them before, but now it’s clear that we are running out of options. Despite the risk, retrieving them could possibly shed some light on this horrid situation.

He looked back up at JJ. “You’re sure?” He asked. “I know how much it freaks you out to even think about going back there.”

JJ nodded once. He folded his arms. It was clear to Jack that he was still scared: his hands were shaking and he was avoiding looking directly at anything. But he was trying. He must’ve really thought this was worth it. “Alright, if you’re positive. I’ll get my jacket, it’s s’posed to be chilly today. Then we’ll walk down to the shop.”

It was indeed a cloudy and chill afternoon. It took Jack and JJ about forty-five minutes to get from Jack’s apartment building to the shop, walking swiftly, driven by nerves. Jack didn’t actually think they’d find anything there, but the lingering feeling of what-if made him wish he knew how to shoot a gun, like Chase.

When they finally reached the shop, the sight of the dark, dusty windows sent chills down their spines. It had been nearly seven months since either of them had set foot in there, and it looked abandoned. JJ fished about in his vest pocket before finding the keys. It took him a minute to unlock the door, as he kept shaking. The door creaked when it finally swung open, accompanied by the ringing of the bell that was supposed to announce customers. The inside of the shop was just as dark and dusty as the windows. Stacks of cobwebbed knickknacks cast eerie shadows on the walls.

“Oh god. This is fucking freaky,” Jack muttered. “Let’s hurry.” JJ nodded in agreement, and the two of them practically sprinted across the main body of the shop to the locked door that would lead upstairs. JJ once again took out his keys and unlocked the door, revealing a narrow staircase leading up. He gave Jack a worried look. “It-it’s okay,” Jack assured him. “We’re doing good so far. I’ll go up first.” The two of them vanished up the stairs. Once they were gone, the door closed behind them.

There was another door at the top, but this one didn’t have a lock. It swung open, and JJ’s hand immediately darted to the side, flicking the light switch on. The apartment matched the shop downstairs in decor, which was to say it looked like it belonged in a different time period. The 1920′s perhaps. The two of them had entered into a living-room sort of area, with a sofa and two chairs covered in dust. The curtains were drawn, so without the yellow light of the lamp dangling overhead, the room would have been completely dark.

“I don’t...see anything.” Jack’s eyes darted about, but it just seemed like a normal apartment, albeit a bit old-fashioned. “So, where are the things you need? On the bookshelves in here?”

JJ shook his head. He made a few signs—he was getting better at them, enough so that Jack could figure out he was saying something along the lines of There’s a room down the hall.

“Well, then we should go look there, shouldn’t we?” Jack gave the living room one more look-over, then followed JJ down a hall to the left. There were three doors, two to the right and one to the left. That was the one JJ opened, darting inside the room. Jack was right behind him.

It was a storage room. Every wall had shelves full of items nailed to it, there were piles of books and boxes and chests stacked on the floor. Everything was labeled, organized meticulously. “Wow,” Jack breathed. “When you said you had a collection of magick items, this is more than I was expecting. What are we looking for?”

JJ promptly walked to the far end of the room, stopping next to a book pile, waving at them in a way that indicated that was what they were looking for. Jack nodded, joining him. He tilted his head to the side, reading the titles on the spines. Half of them he couldn’t pronounce, and of the half remaining he could only guess at what the titles meant. There was a label on top of the pile, a piece of paper folded over with the words Strange Entities, Spells, and Phenomena: Research/Info (Magic) written on it. “Okay,” he said slowly. “There’s no way we can carry all these back to my apartment, so you’re gonna have to help me choose which ones to prioritize. Each of us can hold...uh, three or four, maybe five if we choose thinner ones? Let’s get started.”

A few minutes passed, wherein JJ and Jack sorted through the pile. Usually this involved Jack holding up a book for JJ to look at, and then he’d either shake his head, or take the book and thumb through the pages, then either put it aside or nod to say they should take it. After a while of this, they narrowed it down to eight books that were important enough to take back. “Do you think we should take any of this stuff?” Jack indicated the objects on the shelves. JJ considered for a moment, then shook his head. He signed something that about meant Not enough room, not worth it.

“Alright, then.” Jack grabbed four of the books. “Let’s go.” The two of them left the room, emerging into the hallway again.

The lights died.

Jack stopped dead in his tracks. He looked behind him to see JJ had done the same, his eyes wide. Jack wanted to say it was nothing, but they both knew better than that. “Just...be ready,” Jack whispered. JJ nodded shakily. Jack turned back around and crept down the hall. It felt like his eyes were going to burst out of their sockets, he was looking so hard, waiting for something to happen.

They reentered the living room. But it was different. There were things hanging from the ceiling, dangling from lengths of green thread. Jack looked closer and saw they were thin, silvery, bloodstained needles.

There was a muffled yelp, then a series of thumps behind him. Jack spun around and saw Jameson had fallen to the floor, dropping the books he’d been carrying, bracing himself against the nearest wall. His eyes were fixed on the needles overhead. “James? No no no, it’s okay, it’s fine!” Jack dropped his books in turn, rushing to Jameson’s side. “They can’t—they’re just—they’re not going to hurt you!”

A laugh echoed around the room, causing the needles to sway. “You don’t k̷n̸͠ow ̕͝t̸ḩ͟a͝t̵̶, Jackaboy.”

Jack’s shoulders raised at the mere sound of the voice. He resisted the urged to rub his throat, instead turning and looking back to the room. “Where are you?”

“Neither h̴e͢r͞ę̢͞ nor t̀͠h͏e͢͟͞r̸ę͝.” The voice was coming from everywhere at once, but it was also coming from nowhere at all. “But there’s s̷o͢m̢é̡òn̷͡e̡͠ who’s been...h́͏̧o̸pi̸͠n͞g͢͠ to see you two.”

Everything turned red for a moment. And when it cleared, there was Chase, sitting on one of the chairs, staring at them through the static film over his eyes. Jack inhaled sharply. He hadn’t seen him in person in months. And Jameson hadn’t seen him at all. Jack looked over to see him touching the spot where his mouth was under the mask, his eyes fixed on the stitching around Chase’s neck.

“Chase...” Jack said softly. “Are you...there?”

“I̧'m͡ ̛h̡eŕe͝.”

“That—that’s not what I meant.” Jack stood up, slowly. Chase mimicked his movements almost perfectly. “Do you remember? Please tell me you remember me, and Doc, and JJ.”

“I͏ ́remember̨ y͝ou͢. But́ w̕h̷y̶ ̷do̧ ̴you ma̢tter?̵” Chase held his hand out to the side, like he was waiting for someone to give him something. And suddenly there was a knife in his hand, formed out of thin air.

Jack felt his heart freeze in his chest. “Chase.” He raised his hands. “Please, don’t do anything stupid. Look, we’re not dangerous. You don’t have to do this.”

“H͟e͝ ̸toļd̨ m͠e ̀t̶o.”

“Well, that doesn’t mean you have to do it!” Jack said, not bothering to mask the desperate note in his voice. “Chase, just...try and think for yourself. Do you really think it’s a good idea to—to do whatever it is he told you to do? You’re going to end up hurting someone. You’re gonna hurt someone who hasn’t done anything! I know you think that’s an evil thing to do. You shouldn’t do whatever he says, because he’ll tell you to do awful things. Please, Chase, do you really want to do this?”

For a moment, the static in his eyes seemed to clear a little. The hand holding the knife lowered a bit. Jack let himself hope. And then—

“Y̡ès̀.”

The knife sailed through the air. Jack instinctively ducked away from it, but he hadn’t been the target. There was a wet thump, then what sounded like someone screaming with their mouth closed. Jack whirled around. Jameson was still sitting against the wall on the floor, but now his hands were wrapped around the blade that had lodged in his stomach. He looked at Jack, and there were tears in his eyes.

Something broke inside Jack’s heart. He spun back around, facing Chase again. “Is this really it?!” he shouted to the room at large. “You’re gonna send someone else to do your dirty work for you?”

“Well, w̶h͏ỳ̷ s͏̕ḩ̕͞ơuĺd̴ń'ţ͟ Į?̨” The voice returned, bouncing from corner to corner, breaking and distorting. “If I have a p̛͠͠up̡̛p̷̢e͏t̡̢, might as well u͟sé̵́ ̀͞h̸̨i̵m̵͏.”

“Why is it him, though?” Jack demanded. “Why is it him, Anti?”

There was a slight pause. Then, Anti hissed, “He was the eą̀ś̷̸ie̛s̷̢t̡̀͏ ͟͠onè̷̕ to turn.”

Jack stared at Chase. He hadn’t moved since throwing the knife, his expression perfectly blank. Jack hated it. He would give anything for him to stop looking that way...he would give everything for his friends to be back to normal. He took a deep, steadying breath. “Anti, do you know what’s even better than a puppet you had to turn?” He hesitated for a split second, then made his decision. “One that’s willingly joined you.”

Absolute silence. Jack didn’t look away from Chase. That is, until he heard some scrambling sounds behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see that Jameson had moved a couple feet toward him. One hand was still on the knife, still stuck in his torso, the other was reaching toward Jack. Jameson looked him in the eyes and shook his head. There were a few muffled sounds coming from underneath the mask, and Jack could guess that Jameson was doing his best to plead with him through the stitching. “It’ll be okay, JJ,” Jack said soothingly. “I—I know what I’m doing. Just make sure you don’t bleed to death or anything.”

“It will be b͢e̶̕t͡t̢̕e͠r̸̨ than okay.” Jack’s head whipped back around. He was here now. Or maybe he wasn’t quite here. His edges seemed...fuzzy, and patches of red, blue, and green were falling off his body in droves. He was grinning madly. “What are you ơ̢f̵f͏e͞ri͡ǹ̛g̷̀ m̡͟e, Jackaboy?” Anti asked, stepping closer.

Jack fought the urge to take a few steps back. “I...I’ll take his place,” he said quietly. “I’ll take all their places. I’ll join you, I’ll let you do whatever the hell you want to me, but only if you let them all go.”

“How do I know you’re not l̵̸̡y̵͟i̶͢n͠͏̴g̷͟? How do I know you won’t tr̢͏y͞ ̴̨́t͞͠o̴͢ ̶ru̡n̵̡ at the f̸̕iŕ͟şt̶͟͠ opp̡o̷r̡͢t̡͏͏uǹ͢͞i͏t͡͡y͠͡?̷̧͠”

“I won’t! I...I swear it!” Jack swallowed. “On my life. On their lives.”

Anti stared at him blankly, his eyes flickering between blue and green, the open throat gushing blood through the string straining to keep it closed. Then his grin widened. “Alrig̶hţ̀,” he said, voice crackling. He disappeared, then was suddenly right in front of Jack. “A ͡͠d̷́éà͢͡l̕'s͏͟ ͡͏̴a ͝ḑè̷̵a͟ļ̵.” Before Jack could argue or demand more, Anti grabbed him by the shoulders. A wave of neon, glitching distortion spread from his hands, enveloping Jack’s body in seconds. When the glitches faded away, Jack was gone.

Jameson cried out, the sound turned into a mumble. No, no, no Jack didn’t—he couldn’t have—that was so stupidly heroic, didn’t he know it wouldn’t work? That he’d just give himself up for nothing?

Anti turned his attention to him. He smiled triumphantly. “Ḩ͞á͠v̡̕͟e͏ ̢f̧ưn̷̛.” He pointed to the ceiling, then wiggled his fingers in a cheery wave before he and Chase disappeared.

Jameson looked up. The needles were still hanging from the ceiling, but they were jittering, moving. The threads holding them were flickering in and out of existence—

He barely had time to curl into a ball, flinging his arms over the back of his head and neck before the threads vanished altogether, sending the needles crashing to the floor in a wave of silvery death. He cried out again as he felt the sharp jabs, the thin piercing pains, all over his arms and back. The gently metallic sound of needles hitting the hardwood floor was all he could hear. And then, as quickly as it started, it was done.

He stayed in that position for a while longer. Not just because moving caused the needles to jingle and the knife still inside him to stab deeper, but because he was scared. Was he alone? Or was Anti still there? Eventually, he found his courage, slowly lowering his arms and raising his head. The apartment looked empty. And it felt empty...too empty.

Jameson really was alone.

Hours later, he’d managed to make it back to Jack’s apartment. Thank god Jack had given him a key, otherwise he’d be forced to find other accommodations, since there was no way in hell he was staying back at the shop. He’d managed to get most of the needles out back there, but he’d kept the knife in until he had access to the medical supplies Jack kept in the bathroom. He didn’t want to bleed out. Once back at the apartment he’d double-checked for needles, pulling out the last of them. Most of his backside and his arms were covered in tiny holes that thankfully hadn’t bled much, but still required bandaging. He’d also finally treated the massive stab wound, though pulling out the knife hurt almost as much as it being buried in there in the first place.

After he’d managed to do that, he checked on Schneep. Just as he suspected, he was in the same condition as before. Anti had lied. He hadn’t let the others go, he’d just taken Jack. No doubt he was laughing at him for believing he’d ever relinquish an inch of control.

And Jameson was angry. No, he was furious. At Anti. He was still terrified of him, of course, but now it was mixed with a rage he’d never felt before. Anti thought he cheat and manipulate and hurt without consequences. He thought he could take his friends from him and get away with it. Well, he was wrong.

Jameson had the presence of mind to grab four of the books he and Jack had originally set out looking for before leaving the shop. Now, he sat at Jack’s kitchen table with one of them open before him, carefully reading the pages and trying to push through the pain in his abdomen that would shoot agony up his chest whenever he moved. There had to be something, anything, in here. A tiny hint as to what, exactly, Anti was, the mere mention of a way to defeat a thing like him. The windows grew dark, and still he read, still he studied.

There was nothing in the first book. Nothing he could use. Sure, maybe he saw some spells that could help, but he was magickal, not magical. Magick just needed certain charged items, specific rituals to follow to make something happen. Anyone could use magick. But spells, enchantments, curses, jinxes...for those you needed a certain amount of pure talent, a bit of magic in your soul that you had to be born with. And if you weren’t born with it? Sucks to be you.

Jameson slammed the book shut, then slammed his forehead onto the kitchen table. He still had three books to go, but he had a feeling they were all like this. Plenty of useful and interesting information, but nothing to shed light on his current predicament. Many powerful spells and hexes, but nothing he could actually use.

Why had he ever thought this would be a good idea? Why had he ever believed he would actually be able to do anything? Why did he think ever he was useful?

He raised his head. Those...weren’t his thoughts. Actually, they were, but...they were the same sort of things Anti had said to him so many months ago. The things that this demon, or whatever he was, wanted him to think. And thoughts like this had been plaguing him ever since then. He was thinking of himself the way Anti thought of him.

Jameson sat up straight, placing his hands palm-down on the table. These thoughts...they just wouldn’t do. If he let himself think this way, how was he better than Anti? He certainly wasn’t helping anyone. He was just letting Anti win. And that was not something he could do. Anti could not get to him. And if Anti thought he was weak and useless and all those other things, then he’ll have to prove him wrong.

He closed his eyes. He wasn’t worthless. His friends needed him, now more than ever. And he wouldn’t let Anti get between him and saving them. It could not happen. He would save them. He would save them. He would save them he would save them he would save them—

Something snapped.

That was the best way to describe it. It wasn’t a bad sort of snap, like a heartstring breaking. It was like the snap of chains breaking free. His eyes flew open, and his world was glowing blue.

He looked down at his hands on the table. The light blue glow was coming from them. Or, more accurately, the rings that had appeared around them. They were flat, concentric circles that reminded him a bit of that hero movie Chase had made him watch one day. Between the rings of each circle were...runes. The language of magic and magick. Or at least, one of the languages, there were multiple runic alphabets one could use. These runes were dancing, running around the circles. He recognized a few of them: save, protect, guard, friendship, loyal, soul, rescue.

He raised his hands. The rings stayed with them. He thought about them growing bigger. They did, changing from the size of dinner plates to the size of trash bin lids, the glow flaring in turn. He wished for them to disappear, and they winked out of existence. He wished for them to return, and they faded back in.

This wasn’t possible. He’d tried magic spells before, they hadn’t worked. He thought he wasn’t magic. But apparently he’d been wrong. Maybe he just needed some proper motivation. Maybe he just needed something—or someone—to fight for.

JJ was smiling. Under the mask, he was honest-to-god smiling. The motion was pulling at the stitching, and he welcomed it. It had been so long.

No more listening to Anti. No more waiting on the sidelines, not even trying, because he thought he couldn’t do it. He could do it. He was going to save his friends.

[straykidsscribbles]

Slowly, Suddenly, and then All at Once

So, it’s here. The elusive CEO AU has made an appearance, after quite a lot of waiting. I’m so sorry it took so long, and thank you for waiting so patiently. 

See my masterlist for my other work!

Special thanks to @kim-squishmin for proofreading, especially seeing as I have yet to learn the meaning of the word concise.

Word count: 6840

This vlive had such CEO Chan vibes I can’t

You pulled your knees up to your chest, snuggling into the blanket in front of you and the person next to you.

“You lot are way too nosy aren’t you? Well, if you must know, I’ll tell you the story of how we stopped hating each other and became your unofficial parents. But I’m warning you, no interruptions, otherwise the story ends.”

Eight heads nodded at you, and you began your tale. “It all started back when we were in college.”

---

I pulled my bag closer to myself and craned my neck to see through the crowd. I just want to see the test scores, and then I can go home and sleep. Slowly, I managed to get close enough to read the list posted on the classroom door.

Where am I… I scanned the page, going up from the bottom. Not here, no, not even by the tenth score. Wait. Is that my ID? I let out a small gasp, as I saw my ID code at the top of the list.

I’d set the curve for our first midterm. Well, that just means a lot to live up to now.

“Hey, Chan, you almost set the curve for this test. Pity you didn’t make it!” A tall boy with blond hair nudged his friend.

“Yeah, it sucks. But I mean, with the curve and all I still did okay. I wonder which crazy nerd managed such a high score.”

I felt a small needle of rage prick my insides. I had worked hard for that grade, I’d studied for three days, made study guides, and even done about half the practice problems the professor had given out. I had earned that grade through effort. Who was that upstart little twat who thought just because he got beaten by a few points?

“Excuse me.” My voice was as icy as I could make it. “Instead of complaining about people who got better scores than you, maybe you could actually try studying a little harder next time.”

“No one asked you.” The boy sounded defensive. “Unless you’re the one who managed that score? What did you do, live in the library?”

“Fuck. You.” I twisted on my heel and stormed away, feet tapping out an irate staccato on the pavement. He wants to play that game? Fine. I’m never letting him beat me on anything.

Unfortunately, that didn’t exactly work out for me. Bang Chan, as I soon learned, was about as brilliant as I was, and pretty hard working as well. We fought for top class rank, top test scores, valedictorian, you name it.

And if you think I let any of those go easily, well, you don’t know me.

Suffice it to say, Bang Chan and I were enemies. We hated each other, and that would never change. We hated each other through our masters degrees, and then even as we worked our way up the ranks of the same company. That chip on my shoulder would always be there.

I am not one to just give in and lose.

---

This is it! I bet the board will finally tell us who’s going to be the next CEO! I slipped inside the board room and went to my normal seat, throwing the usual glare at Chan, who was seated opposite me. If he ends up as CEO, I think I might quit.

“Alright, Ms. _____, Mr. Bang. We, the board of directors, have finally come to a decision. Seeing as our company has been growing at such an astronomical rate, we have to acknowledge that both of you have brought unprecedented success to this company. In light of that, we will be declaring both of you as joint CEOs of the company, effective immediately.”

My jaw dropped. “I’m sorry, sir, did you just say joint CEOs?”

“Joint? No one has joint CEOs now!” Chan’s indignance was clearly audible.

“Both of you, control yourselves! There are plenty of companies with more than one CEO, just look at Oracle or Samsung! Now then. You will be moving to the offices on the chief executive floor, and you’ll be working together to make this company even more successful. You’re both dismissed!” The board representative was clearly very irritated. Best not push it.

“Yes sir.” The two of us chorused in unison. We then glared at each other as we moved towards the door. Chan got there first, and held it for the board members as they exited the room.

I made it a point to go through the other door. I'm not being petty… okay maybe I sort of am.

Just outside my own office, Chan stopped me with a hand on my elbow. “Wait. Look. If we want this whole thing to work, all we have to do is split up the work between us. That way we don’t have to talk, and any interaction between us can be limited.”

“Fine by me. The less I have to spend with a blundering baboon, the better.”

“Oh like you’re much better with your holier-than-thou attitude and your-”

“Come in then. Let’s get this over with.” I shoved my door open, taking out my remaining frustration on the slab of wood. I sat down in my chair, and Chan loomed behind my shoulder. Pulling out a pad, I began listing duties, and we argued for the next hour over who would be doing what.

Still, I think I came out slightly on the upper hand. I got most of the things I wanted, and Chan has to deal with the lawyers, which is definitely a good thing.

Now all I had to do was do my job so well that I’d get another promotion, and Chan would get demoted to an underling’s position.

Oh, and move offices.

---

“Oh wow, this place looks so much more open without those awful dark curtains!” I exclaimed, balancing the box of files on my hip as I entered the main office area.

“Wait, will we have to share the floor? How long would it take to set up walls in here so I don’t have to see her irritating face all the time?” He’s right. We’d be sharing the huge office space. I mean I get that this would work, with CEOs who actually tolerated each other, but us? No. Thank. You.

“We will not be setting up walls, you’ll just have to work like this. We need to present a united front to any potential investors.” The board executive’s secretary, a bored looking young man, rolled his eyes. “Just have your desks facing away from each other and it’ll work.”

“Fine.” “Fine.”

I dumped the files on one desk, pulling out the chair and flopping onto it. This is going to be exhausting. Why do we have to be joint CEOs?

Chan flopped into the other chair, throwing his legs up on the desk. “You know what. We’re now CEOs, we just got promoted. I am taking the day off to celebrate. Bye Ms. ____, Mr. Kim.” He waved and got up, throwing his suit jacket over one shoulder.

Can he even do that? I wondered as I tucked the last set of files into the cabinet next to my desk. “Have someone finish alphabetizing these. I have personal business I need to attend to as well.” I grabbed my own coat and headed towards the elevator. If he gets the day off, so do I.

---

“Can you believe his nerve? The bastard actually had the nerve to go and just walk out of our office!” I yelled through the phone at my brother, Hyunjin. “He literally walked in, dumped his stuff on the table, and waltzed out the door.”

“And so you just left too?”

“Well yeah, I wasn’t going to stay and do work when he wasn’t. It’s not fair and also as CEO, I now have underlings to do that sort of stuff for me.”

“Don’t come and complain to me then if you end up with all of your stuff misplaced and your papers not organized the way you like them.”

“Hyunjin no one asked you for this kind of slander.”

“It’s not slander you’re the pickiest person ever! You literally alphabetize your bookshelves.”

“IN OTHER NEWS, how is your latest interior design project going?” I rolled my eyes. He has plenty of quirks himself, I don’t need to listen to this.

“Pretty well actually. I found this photographer the other day, and his night photos look so beautiful. They’ll be perfect for the new apartment buildings. He’s actually a photographer for one of the newspapers but he dabbles in artsy photos and so I’m glad I discovered him.” I smiled to myself as I poured myself a cup of tea. Jinnie might be a little crazy and annoying, but I love listening to him talk about his work. It’s nice to see him happy.

Settling into my chair with tea in hand and a stack of books nearby, I left the phone on speaker. Hyunjin would ramble, I would read, and we could enjoy our time together even if we weren’t in the same city. After all, that’s what siblings were for.

---

The next morning, I quickly got ready and headed downtown towards the office buildings. Even the prospect of dealing with Chan could dampen my spirits; a cinnamon roll and coffee for breakfast had already begun the day on a high note. After all, how could a day with cinnamon rolls be sad?

I entered the lobby of the building, heels making sharp clicking noises on the hardwood floor, bag swinging from my fingertips despite its weight. There was something to be said about nice shoes on a good day. They just made things better. I waved to the receptionist and headed towards the elevator, rolling my eyes at the two or three interns huddled in a corner who were giggling at- who else -Chan.

The elevator doors closed, and we slowly headed up, stopping every so often to let other people get off. There were about ten floors to go, and now it was just Chan and me in the elevator. Ugh this is so awkward. Is this how it’s going to be all the time in our office? He’s annoying and a brat but I don’t want work to always be this awkward. Still, I’m not making the first overtures. He started this, he can apologize first.

Then, a loud creak came from outside the elevator. Scrchhhhhhhhhhhhh, went the mechanism pulling us up.

And then, the elevator stopped.

Another slightly ominous creak emanated from right outside the doors, and then- silence. Utter silence.

Chan pressed the buttons on the elevator panel, trying to get the elevator to start working.

Nothing happened.

“Let me see.” I came over to the panel and pressed a few buttons too.

Dead silence.

“Okay, let me try the fire alarm? Maybe the speaker thing works?” He pressed the red button and again, nothing happened.

I took out my phone, only to find a lovely ‘NO SERVICE’ staring up at me from the top of the screen. “I don’t have service, do you?”

“Nope. Wait. Today they had scheduled maintenance for the elevators! We’re stuck here.”

“Why today of all days?” I leaned against one of the walls. And getting stuck with him? Fantastic.

“Great.” Chan rolled his eyes and dropped his laptop bag on the floor before sitting down himself. “This is just wonderful.”

“You’re telling me? Our first day as CEOs and we get stuck in the blasted elevator.” I’m not standing here, in these shoes, for who knows how long. Might as well sit down too. I thumped down next to him, stretching my legs out and crossing my ankles.

“Of all the people really, I had to get stuck with you? Why is my luck always this bad?” Chan seemed to be talking to himself, but I couldn’t let such an insult pass unchallenged.

“Okay, seriously what is your issue?” I snapped, turning to face him. “Literally from the second we met you’ve been nothing but insulting. At best you’ve been passive at times; but you aren’t even civil. Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you exactly… It’s just…” he looked down. Could I have somehow managed to reduce the irrepressible Bang Chan to speechlessness?

“Just. What.” I demanded flatly.  We’re going to be trapped here for the next few hours, why shouldn’t we get this out of the way now.

“You’re intimidating? And I put my foot in my mouth the first day we met and that was sort of bad. And then you clearly hated me after that so it was just easier to hate you too.” The words came spilling out, seemingly against his will. I’m intimidating? Really?

“Well, I was hurt afterwards, but I should have given you a chance to apologize. And I shouldn’t have been so mean afterwards… Besides you're more intimidating than me! I'm tiny, I don't know how you think I'm scary. I mean- You can’t say I’m blameless in this I’ve been pretty rude to you over the years too.”

“Yeah. I guess we both were hurt and we took it out on each other.”

“Your insults are pretty creative you know Chan. I don’t think anyone else has called me a jellyfish flavored popsicle.”

“I think your best one was ‘I’d rather get stuck in an elevator for four hours than spend another minute in your presence.’”

“That certainly played out well. Way to tempt fate, past me.” I sighed and leaned my head against the wall. “How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

“Depends? I mean I heard someone say that it took five hours once, but we’re the CEOs, people should miss us right?” He scratched the back of his head. “It’s been what, five minutes? I’m borreeeedddddddd, _____.”

I think that’s the first time he’s called me by my name without any sort of secondary inflection behind it. It’s… sort of nice actually. He has a nice voice. “Wait, do you have your laptop?” I asked suddenly.

“Yeah? I have it with me. But it won’t last very long, I was working late last night and I forgot to charge it afterwards.”

“Darn. I guess we could share mine then? We could watch a movie or something on Netflix?” I reached over to my bag and slid the thin silver laptop out. “Any preferences?”

“Wow, you’re letting me choose? Really?” His voice was higher pitched when he was excited.

“Don’t get too happy, it’s a one time thing. But yeah, go ahead.” I opened Netflix, moving the cursor to the search bar.

“Actually, could we just watch Daredevil? You have it on your recently watched, what episode are you on?” He leaned closer to me and pointed to the icon.

“Oh, I only just finished the first season. Is that okay?” He nodded, and so we settled in with the laptop in my lap, shoulders just touching.

About two and half episodes later, there was a sudden crank and the elevator started to move upward once more. The doors slid open and our secretaries slowly peered around the edge of the door. Are they trying to see if we killed each other? I wondered. Chan stood up and held out his hand to help me up as well.

“Wait… are they touching? And not in a passive aggressive annoying poking or death by handshake way?” My secretary whispered.

“I think they are… this is so weird. Quick pinch me, maybe I’m just dreaming,” muttered Chan’s secretary.

Chan rolled his eyes and stepped into our office. “Honestly, we weren’t going to kill each other. We just talked for a little while.”

I smirked over at the two gaping secretaries. “When you think about it, we really do have a lot in common you know.” We walked towards our desks, sitting down and beginning our work.

“I think we broke them.” Chan whispered as he wheeled his chair a little closer to me.

“There’s no think about it Chan, we definitely did.” Maybe things will be better now.

I think I’ll quite like being friends with him.

---

“_____, I’m boreeeeeeedddddddddddd.” Chan whined as he rolled his office chair towards my side of the room. He slid next to me and caught sight of my computer screen before I could close the window I had open.

“Wait. Are you playing card games online? Really. Card games? Online? When you have a perfectly good me to play with?” He grabbed my hand and yanked my chair towards him. Pulling out a deck of cards, he quickly dealt for a game of Go Fish.

Which turned into three games. Which turned into five. Which turned into us taking a half day to deal with the stress.

We played Go Fish, War, Rummy, and even attempted a round of online poker… which we lost.

We couldn’t be good at everything after all.

But at the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder why on earth we hadn’t done this before. Why hadn’t we tried to get along before? We could have had years of just messing around together.

Almost as if he could hear my thoughts, Chan spoke as he was shuffling the cards. “I’m glad we decided to make up. Better late than never, right?”

“Yeah. Better late than never.”

---

“You look nice sis!” came Hyunjin’s voice from the phone speaker. I was trying to frantically get ready for the annual corporate party and I had called Hyunjin for some moral support as I prepared. This year would be the first where I would be giving a speech, and I was both excited and terribly nervous.

I adjusted the curls that were falling out of my up-do and fixed my skirt. Company colors… is that too much of an overkill? But they do look nice…. Blue looks good no matter what, and it ‘ll be good to match the branding.

“Okay, I’m ready. I’ll text you when I get back home okay? Don’t stay up too late!” I called into the phone as I reached for my shoes.

“Don’t mind me, I have color palettes to look at anyways. Are we still on for the movie next weekend?”

“Yup! I’ll arrive on Friday night hopefully. Bye!” I hung up, grabbed my purse and keys, and headed out the door. Show time. Better get used to this speaking business, it’s your new lot in life as CEO _____.

The drive passed in a flash, and soon I was pulling up to the hotel doors, where the party was being held. I handed the car keys to the valet and clicked nervously up the steps to the doorway. Breathe, in, out, this is just another party. You’ve done plenty of these, all you have to do differently is speak at this one.

Straightening my spine, I walked in the double doors. Almost immediately I was swept away by one of the board members.

“____, this lovely lady is the head of the regional bank! Mrs. Lee was just telling me how they were considering investing in the company, do you mind giving her more details? I must go find my wife, she wanted to bid on one of the charity auction items.” He walked off, leaving me in the company of an older woman with steel gray hair and a sharp smile. Her eyes were hard but intelligent; clearly, this was a woman who’d worked her way up in the bank as well.

“How can I help you Mrs. Lee?” I asked, turning fully towards her. A new banking partner would be wonderful for the company, especially as we were dealing with a great deal of financial expansion. Let’s hope this works…

As we were talking, I heard soft giggles coming from behind me. There were a few interns, probably here for their first corporate party, standing in the corner and staring openly at Chan, who was talking to an older gentleman with a cane in one hand. I rolled my eyes. Some things never change. Those look like the same idiots that were giggling in the lobby earlier. Honestly why are people such idiots?

I finished up the conversation and handed Mrs. Lee a business card, asking her to stop by my office any time. Now then,  to deal with those imbeciles. They’re ridiculously loud and they are being completely unprofessional.

As I walked over to their corner, I noticed Chan approaching them too, from the other side. Good. If both of us tell them off, they can’t do anything.

“Excuse me, do you three mind? This is a corporate occasion, and you should be acting with a little more decorum than you are currently.” My voice was scathingly cold.

“We were just admiring Mr. Bang. That’s not a crime, is it?” One of them blinked innocently at me, but I was having none of it.

“I don’t care what you were doing. You were all loud enough to be heard a good twenty feet away, and this is not the time for you to be behaving in such an unprofessional manner. You may be young and inexperienced, but that’s no excuse at all.”

Just then, Chan came up behind me, sliding an arm around my waist. What is he doing? We’re barely friends at the moment WHAT DOES HE THINK HE’S PLAYING AT?” I turned to look at him, eyes already narrowed sharply.

“If you all could just please keep it down?” He asked, smiling at them. “You’re being terribly disruptive to everyone here.”

One of the girls, the most brazen of the lot, opened her mouth. “Oh, Mr. Bang, is she your date? You guys are matching.” Fuck he’s wearing company colors too. We had to have the same outfit ideas great this is wonderful.

I was just about to protest, but Chan cut in. “Yes actually, she is. So… if you could excuse us?” He maneuvered me away from them, and shook his head when I turned towards him, ready to ask just what he was playing at.

Behind us, I could just make out the tail end of their conversation. “Well, I wonder if the other CEO is here too? Maybe we could get them to go out with us.”

Chan took me into a side room, and immediately dropped his arm from around my waist. “Okay before you say anything, those interns have been basically following me around for the past three days. They’re all freakishly persistent, and I just needed an out please help me? Please, ____ I’ll buy you expensive chocolate too.”

“You do realize they’ll notice when we’re back at work right?”

“But tonight they’re being especially persistent. They were following me ____. Following me.” He pouted sadly at me, and I figured I had to take pity on him. He looked miserable.

“Okay then. Come on. As it is, we were supposed to sit together for the dinner anyways. Are you speaking before or after me?” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Also, we should probably look into getting them assigned to the mail room or have them sorting through databases or just something mind numbingly boring as punishment for making both of us uncomfortable.”

“I’m speaking right before you. And thank you. Really. I was so sick of them… Hopefully this works.”

We wandered for the next hour or so, making small talk and just generally networking. All the while I could feel my nerves getting worse and worse. I’m going to talk in front of so many people what if I mess up what if I forget what if I just stand there and blank. My mind just kept running a loop of bad scenarios- the worst things that could happen.

Then. Show time.

I slipped into my chair as Chan walked up onto the small raised stage at one end. He spoke for a good five minutes, yet I heard absolutely none of it. See, he’d done a speech last year, as his pet project was one of the main expansions of the company at the time. He had at least some experience.

Oh. He’s waving me up. Okay. Let’s go. I slowly left my seat, focusing on just getting up there and not tripping over any of the speaker cables on the floor.

Five minutes of insane courage. Five minutes. You can do this. I shuffled the index cards I’d hidden in my clutch and gripped them tightly. “Good evening everyone, thank you so much for coming out here. It’s my pleasure to be welcoming you as one of your new CEOs. Chan and I have great plans for the company, and we hope we’ll be able to take the company to new heights.” I steadied myself with another deep breath and continued on, discussing the vision I had for the company and what new ideas we would be trying to implement for the next few years.

All too soon, it was done. I smiled, introduced the board president, and left the stage, tottering back to my seat on wobbly yet satisfied legs.

“You were fine, well done love.” Chan whispered into my ear as I sat down next to him.

“You did well too, thanks Chan. I’m just glad its over and done with.”

It didn’t register until I got home that he’d called me love. And I’d liked it quite a bit.

---

“So. Chan asked you to fake being his date, and called you love, and you matched, however accidentally, and you didn’t collapse after your first speech in front of the whole company. Well done ____ you’re alive!” Hyunjin threw a pillow at me. “Why are you so good at overthinking stuff?”

“Jinnie shut up you’re being mean! It was scary and there were loads of people and you know I’m still not used to it. I guess the only thing that was funny was seeing those interns’ faces when they saw I was the other CEO. One of them actually had his mouth wide open in shock it was glorious.”

“You know what _____ you seem to be enjoying yourself aren't you? And things seem to be better now that you and Chan are getting along.”

“True.” I pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “Work is definitely a lot more fun. Last week we actually were both so sick of finance reports that we ended up just playing cards the entire afternoon.”

“Did you win?” Hyunjin’s eyes were wide with humor. “If you lost you better have milked it for all it was worth.”

“I lost a couple games… and maybe Chan owes me expensive chocolate now… maybe. But I'm admitting to nothing.” I smiled into my tea cup.

“Look at you you're actually smiling like an idiot just thinking about him. You know I had no idea I was getting a new brother in law so soon. You're still having me as your man of honor right?” He winked at me cockily, referencing our childhood agreement. As tiny children we had decided that if we ever got married we would be each other's best maid/ man of honor. I should have known that would come back to bite me. Why did he automatically jump to marriage I don't even like him like that. We're friends. That's all. Though… I mean Chan is sort of handsome. And smart. And clever. And he has a great sense of humor.

“Shut up Jinnie I don't like him like that. We are barely friends.”

“Last year you said that if you had to choose between kissing a frog and shaking hands with Chan you'd kiss the frog. And now you're blushing just thinking about him.”

“Drink your tea before I throw it in your face.” Hyunjin just rolled his eyes and got up, picking up a sofa pillow.

“You have three seconds to run before this turns into a pillow war.” His voice was completely deadpan but the grin on his face said otherwise. I just reached for a pillow of my own and attacked back in turn.

Sometimes all you needed was a pillow fight with your brother to get rid of annoying, hallucinatory, and clearly false thoughts about a certain CEO.

That night though, I slept fitfully. All I could picture were chocolatey eyes and dark hair that curled softly in the heat of the banquet hall and a soft voice comforting me.

Okay so maybe Hyunjin wasn't totally wrong. Maybe there is something going on here. It's just a crush though. I'll get over it soon. Bet it'll be gone in a week, I told myself.

---

Two weeks later, I was clearly rethinking said earlier idea. My little crush hadn't abated; in fact it had just gotten stronger. I spent most of my time burying myself in paperwork so that I would be able to avoid Chan’s friendly overtures.  

It wasn’t working.

He. was. just. so. persistent. He brought me coffee one night when we both stayed at the office until 2 am, he wouldn’t stop thanking me the day I got takeout sandwiches for both of us at lunch.

How on earth was anyone to get a grip if there was literally no respite from his charm?

I was in the middle of looking over the latest deal with a new company that was trying to expand into a more international area when Chan’s voice broke into my thoughts.

“Hey, _____, do you like rap?” The question was a bit out of the blue. That’s an… odd question to ask?

“I mean, I do like it I suppose? Why do you ask?” I turned in my swivel chair to face him.

“Well… you see, a couple of my friends and I sometimes have little rap gigs at this one club near by? I was wondering if you’d be interested in coming to watch us perform.” His voice was a little higher than normal, almost as though he was… nervous?

“I- I’d love to come! When is it? Should I bring anything with me?” I hope I don’t sound like some sort of idiotic ditz.

“Our next show is this weekend actually, on Saturday. I’ll text you the address later, yeah?”

I nodded softly, and we both turned back to our desks. But at the back of my mind I couldn’t stop thinking about this new information.

Chan raps? Since when? I had no idea! Does he mean this as a date thing? Or is it just a “hi, let’s be friends” thing? I’m overthinking it, he’s just being friendly and trying to get to know me outside of work.

Enough wishful thinking, _____. Get a grip.

---

That Saturday, in the back of the club, Changbin and Jisung were treated to a very interesting spectacle.

The Irrepressible Bang Chan, CB97, CEO of a major company and a respected musician and producer, was pacing their dressing room with one of the worst cases of pre-performance stage fright nerves ever.

Pacing. Wringing his hands. Frowning. Mumbling to himself. Turning right before he hit the wall only to almost trip over a chair and wipe out on the floor.

“Channie-hyung, this is weird. Normally Jisungie is the one freaking out like this?” Changbin raised one eyebrow at Chan. “What’s going on?”

Jisung just smirked happily. “I know why he’s panicking~” he said in a very smug, singsong tone.

“Jisung you will keep your mouth shut if you want me to buy you cheesecake any time in the next week.” Chan’s voice was tight with nerves.

“I’ll buy you cheesecake every day for the next two weeks.”

“Done. Channie-hyung’s flustered because _____ is coming tonight.”

“Ohhh that makes sense don’t worry we’ll put on a great show for your girlfriend!” Changbin waggled his eyebrows at Chan, who just flopped into a chair and thumped his head on the table.

“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s the other CEO at work, and we literally started getting along like a month ago so you can shut it.”

“Wait isn’t she the one you used to complain about to Woojin basically every day when we were in college?”

“You know what Jisung? Your cheesecake privileges and your Jeongin privileges are gone. You aren’t allowed to talk to my son anymore.”

“I thought we were your sons too!”

The room devolved into chaos, and a makeup brush and some cords were thrown back and forth. But somehow Chan’s heart felt a little lighter after his friends’ gentle teasing.

They’d always be there for him. Even if he managed to completely ruin this. Which was looking more and more likely by the second.

---

I slipped inside the club after showing my ID to the bouncer. It looks pretty packed. Oh, yay, corner table! I sat down and ordered Coca Cola, not wanting to risk getting anything strong.

A few minutes passed and I was well settled in, facing the stage.

A spotlight turned on, and three boys stood, clustered in the middle of the stage. Chan stood in the middle, wearing baggy sweats and a t-shirt, his hair tousled lightly. The other two boys were dressed similarly as well.

The music began, and they started whispering amongst themselves. “Hey look over there, she’s pretty!”

“Where? Where?”

“In the gray, over there.” To my surprise, one of the boys next to Chan pointed right at me.

The boy who had pointed looked oddly familiar. Is he one of Hyunjin’s friends? I think he is. He began rapping, sticking to a soft slow rhythm. He had on a flannel and what appeared to be oversized boots with the laces wrapped multiple times around his ankles. His voice was sweet and sort of lazy sounding, like he was trying to lure you in with his words.

The music changed, and all three spoke at once. “Wow, oh man, she’s hot.” I raised both eyebrows, shocked a little at the directness of the song. Well, they certainly weren’t messing around were they?

The first boy continued for a little longer, then the one on the other side of the stage continued. “With a smirk I suddenly enter / I’m sorry sorry you’re already hit on and deflated.” His rap was more nasal sounding and faster, clearly distinct from the first boy’s style. He wore all black and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes; he held his mic close to his lips with one finger over his lips. “There’s nothing to be envious about” he finished, and they began the chorus again. This time the audience laughed along with them and sang a few of the words with them. Clearly, this was a pretty popular song for them.

Then, Chan started rapping. His voice was softer than the previous boy’s, and it sounded incredibly good. I can’t believe he never said anything about this! He should have mentioned something, he’s amazing. I let the words wash over me, just listening to the music.

Suddenly, his voice broke into my thoughts. “I’m just a nice guy with a lot of money”

My head snapped up, eyes widening. Did he just say he has a lot of money? Who writes these lyrics? Wow Chan I get that you’re a CEO and all, but this is a touch blunt.

His eyes swept over the crowd, meeting mine just as he said “Let me take you to a restaurant.”

I couldn’t stop the blush that erupted across my face.

He kept going, and my blush just got darker and darker. I had to fight the urge to hide my face in my hands. His eyes were locked with mine as he rapped.

I barely heard the end of the song.

As the applause began, the three of them bowed to the crowd.

“Hey guys, we’re 3RACHA! I’m CB97, this is J.One, and this is SpearB.” The other two bowed and waved in turn. “We hope you guys enjoy the show! This next song is called Hoodie Season.”

This time a drum beat opened the song and I could stop myself from nodding along to it. This is really catchy. They’re so good, I wish I’d heard them before!  But are they actually talking about their love for a hoodie? Can’t say I blame them.

The night went on for a while like that. They performed a few more songs and then bowed their way off the stage to thunderous applause and cheering from a few somewhat crazy looking boys in one corner of the club.

I swirled my Coca Cola in its bottle, staring into the brown whirlpool it formed. What on earth did Chan mean by inviting me and then literally staring at me when saying things like “Hey baby I’ll make you my lover / I’m thankful that I’m warm in the fall / I’ll hug you wherever I go.” Is he just going along with the lyrics?

Just then, Chan slid into the chair opposite me. “So. _____. How was it?” To my surprise, he actually looked a little nervous, as though he was unsure of my response.

“You were amazing! I can’t believe you’ve been hiding that skill for so long! You’re a really good rapper and your vocals are so smooth.” I couldn’t stop myself from gushing after seeing the enormous grin that spread across his face as I spoke.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“How could I not? I’m only sad I didn’t get to hear you sooner. Though you have no idea what you’ve unleashed, now I’ll be asking you to sing all the time at the office.”

“Well, with such a lovely audience, how could I ever refuse?” He winked at me, and I felt my cheeks heating up again.

A small gurgle sounded, and to my surprise, Chan’s ears got a little red as well. “Ah… after a performance we normally get pretty hungry.”

“Well, CB97, how about I take you to a restaurant?” Where is this confidence coming from ABORT ABORT.

“After you then, my lady.” He held out his hand for me and I took it, wrapping my fingers around his.

We stepped outside, a wall of cold air hitting us as we left the warm club. Turning down a couple of sidestreets, we entered a chicken shop that was open late on weekends.

“Order what you want, I said I was treating you!” I mock glared at him as he tried to pull out his wallet. He complained but ordered anyways, and we settled into a booth to eat the chicken happily.

We didn’t speak much while we ate; Chan was clearly quite hungry. After our meal Chan insisted on walking me back home before heading to his apartment.

I invited him in to warm up for a bit before heading back home, and he came in willingly. I made green tea for us both and was just about to turn off the kettle when Chan came into the kitchenette.

“_____, I sort of have a confession to make. I invited you to see our performance because I really wanted to impress you.” He took a deep breath and, forestalling anything I could say in return, spoke. “I like you. A lot. I understand if you don’t really like me in that way, I mean we only just became friends recently, but I would like to be more.”

My mouth dropped open. “You- you actually like me? I thought you were just trying to be friendly this whole time. I like you too Chan, I mean how could I not? You’re really sweet, talented, and I mean… after tonight’s thing I’m not entirely sure I’m worthy of you.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He moved closer and pulled me into a hug, wrapping his arms around my waist.

The kettle puffed away behind us, forgotten.

Chan went home that night a little bit giddy. I lay awake in bed going over the night’s events in my head.

Who would have thought after the worst first impression in history we would end up… dating I guess?

---

“And that’s how we got together. Happy now? Curiosity sated?” you asked as you finished your tale, sipping water from the glass in front of you. After that long story, your throat was dry from talking so much.

Chan poked you in the ribs gently. “So you started to fall for me at the party? I was way before you I was crushing on you by the time we were trapped in the elevator together.” He leaned over and hugged you tightly, nuzzling into your neck.

“Ewwwwww! Affection! That’s it, I’m out!” yelled Jeongin and Seungmin as they jumped up from the floor where they had been listening to your story.

You rolled your eyes. They did ask for the story didn’t they? Whatever.

And you snuggled closer into Chan’s arms.

[nancykali]

Hey I donated 6$ and I hope it helps ❤ (Is there anything else we can do to help you? Cheer you up, fill prompts for you?) Can I ask for a "I picked up your bag at the airport but I can't find your number so I'm about to embark on the largest scavenger hunt of all times by using your strange belongings to track you down" AU for mike/el/will maybe? I'm not yet sure how it could work for an ot3 but I trust you and your amazing writing and I'm sure it's going to be super amazing and wonderful 😍

Mike had never been to an airport before the first springbreak of his college career. So it didn’t surprise him that he had managed totake the wrong bag off the baggage claim when he and his boyfriend Will hadreturned from their week-long vacation at Dustin’s family’s lake house.

And it just happened to be a bag with no ID tag on it. Only when taking the bag from the Uber driver’s trunk had Mike noticed the subtledifferences in the black suitcase telling him it wasn’t his. One peek in thefront pocket had been the damning second clue; it contained not his shavingsupplies, but a book titled Flight bySherman Alexie.

It had taken another two hours to find their way back to theairport, to the baggage claim office, only to discover that not only had no onereturned for the mystery suitcase, but no one had left Mike’s suitcase behind.

Will had comforted Mike on the way back to the dorm with theknowledge that at least Mike’s suitcase had his name, address, and phone numberattached. Whoever had it would have to return it. Mike tried to remainoptimistic, completely blocking out the price of the X Box games he’d packed inthat suitcase.

“It won’t be that hard to find her, she has to go to thesame college as us,” Will told him, seeing the guilt and chagrin on Mike’s face.Will sat across from him on the still absent roommate’s bed, as he and Mikestudied the contents of the suitcase in Mike’s dorm room (as hard as they’dtried, they hadn’t been able to get a dorm room together—Will’s room was eightdoors down the hall. Mike had counted).

“What makes you think that?” Mike said, his face almostburied in his hands, elbows on his knees.

“This t-shirt,” Will said, fishing a shirt from the pile ofhaphazardly folded clothes. It was bright red and had the phrase “Keep Calm andGive Blood” printed on the front in black letters, a silhouette of a “bleeding”jack-o-lantern in the middle.

Mike looked at Will in confusion, and Will answered hissilent question, “I have the same one. Remember last October, the blooddonation campaign? Everyone who donated got this t-shirt.”

“Oh, you’re right!” Mike said, perking up. He hadn’t gottenthe t-shirt, because he hadn’t donated blood. Needles frightened the hell outof him. The first and only time he’d tried donating blood in high school he’dfainted. Will was kind enough not to bring up the embarrassment, he simplyfolded the t-shirt and put it back.

“And we do have a name,” Mike said, picking up the stranger’sbook he’d set on his bed next to him. Inside the front cover, written in smallcursive handwriting, was the name El Hopper.

Encouraged by this information, the boys set off on theirinvestigation.

And quickly hit a roadblock.

There was no “El Hopper” listed as a resident at any of thedorms on campus. Not even anyone with the last name Hopper. They got the sameanswer when they found out who to contact from the blood donation campaign. Noone by that name had donated blood last October.

That same night, with Mike’s roommate still not back fromhis spring break vacation, Will and Mike settled on Mike’s bed to study thesuitcase’s contents further.

They’d turned up nothing useful besides that the owner was asize small, bought Herbal Essences hair products, and seemed fond of the colorpink—more than half of her clothes were a shade of pink, even the socks. Andthe swimsuit (“It’s a bikini, Mike. I know you’ve seen one before. You have twosisters.” “Shutup. This is different. Also you’re gay and I’m not.” Will wasstill smirking so Mike threw a pair of pink socks at him).

It was now nearly 10:00 and they’d ended up taking a “break”that was actually Will leaning against Mike’s headboard, reading El Hopper’sbook, Flight, while Mike rested hishead on Will’s stomach and played a game on his phone.

They both nearly jumped out of their skin when there was aknock on the door. Will and Mike exchanged glances, their expressions and theunspoken question in them mirroring each other. Who the hell could be knocking at Mike’s door at 10pm? Then—no way, it couldn’t be.

Mike shot up to answer the door while Will scrambled to closethe stranger’s suitcase. Mike peripherally saw Will scrambling back for thebook he’d left on Mike’s bed, before he turned back to open the door.

A girl stood there, and she looked to be about Mike and Will’sage. And there was no doubt—she had Mike’s suitcase next to her.

“Hi!” She said brightly, grinning at him. “Are you MikeWheeler?”

Mike blinked a couple times before he realized he was gapinglike a fish. He closed his mouth. “Uh, yeah.”

The girl glanced behind him, obviously seeing Will. Mikeglanced back too—Will was holding what had to be the book behind his back, hischeeks a cute shade of pink.

“I’m Jane,” the girl said, looking back at Mike, her smilefaltering. The guilt returned and Mike could feel his face reddening.

“I have your suitcase. The people at baggage claim said youmight have mine?” she said, tilting her head. She had dark shoulder length curlsthat framed her face perfectly. Mike’s face grew hotter.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, we, uh, have it. I—um—Come in. Please,”Mike said, stepping aside so she could get past him.

She moved past him and sure enough, she smelled like HerbalEssences shampoo.

Mike closed the door, then made a realization. “You saidyour name was Jane?”

She’d stopped in the middle of the room, feet away fromWill, who stood in front of El Hopper’s suitcase as if guarding it, though hecontinued to look as guilty as Mike felt.

Looking up at him (she had to be nearly a foot and a halfshorter than him) Jane nodded. “Yeah, I’m sorry there was no ID tag on my bag.I’d never gone out of town before, it just slipped my mind.” She looked down atMike’s suitcase, then back up to him. Her grin was back. “They do look nearlythe same, don’t they?”

Mike nodded mutely, then looked over to see Will staringpointedly at him. He looked at Jane, who was also staring at him. Curiously.Why did she look at him like that?

“This is Will,” Mike said, nodding toward Will, who gave atight smile and shook Jane’s hand. They exchanged nice-to-meet-you’s and thenJane added, “Are you Mike’s roommate?”

“Boyfriend.” Mike and Will spoke in unison.

“Oh, cool,” Jane said, smiling, not at all awkward orforced. Mike could literally see the stiffness go out of Will’s shoulders.

“Um, we were trying to find you,” Will said, holding out thebook Flight to her. “But the name inhere says ‘El Hopper’. Is she a friend of yours?”

Jane took the book, laughing and shaking her head. “No, no,El is me. El is my nickname. Middle name, really. I guess,” she said,shrugging. The way she said it made Mike think there was more to it, but hewasn’t going to press.

Will turned to pick up Jane’s—El’s—suitcase and hand it toher, and seeing Will was about to offer some sort of explanation, Mike quicklysaid, “We were trying to find clues. To find you. Um. That’s why your stuff isgonna be kind of…”

Jane was looking at him, her brows raised in question. Hewas rubbing the back of his neck, all but sweating now. He floundered, tryingto find the right word. Will remained unhelpfully silent.

“…Disorganized,” Mike finished lamely.

Jane’s mouth quirked. It was not the response he expected.She glanced between him and Will.

“It wasn’t that organized to begin with,” she said, laughterin her voice.

There was a few beats of silence while Jane replaced herbook in the front pocket Mike had found it in. Mike blurted out, “Is your lastname Hopper then?”

Jane’s eyes snapped up at him, this time looking genuinelysurprised. Then even more interesting—her expression became guarded.

“No, it’s Ives. Jane Ives,” she said. There wasn’t even ahint of a smile on her face anymore. Mike bit the inside of his cheek,wondering how much he’d screwed up.

Will cut in, “So that’s why we couldn’t find out if you livedin any of the dorms. We thought we could find you that way.”

Jane looked at him and nodded. “That makes sense. I haven’thad the last name Hopper for a few years. It’s a long story,” she said, hereyes moving down and away. Then she shrugged again. “I live in the dorm rightnext to you guys actually.”

“Cool! You guys have the better dining hall,” Will said,smiling at her. She smiled back, and Mike felt a pang in his chest. He wouldn’trecognize what it was until later, and then he’d be furious with himself.

“Want to meet there for lunch sometime? Mike and I havesimilar schedules, we’re free after two most days,” Will said, adding on, “Iwant to ask you more about Alexie. I started reading it, he seems really good.”

Jane’s eyes brightened. “I love all his work. I’lldefinitely rec you more of his stuff,” she said, then glanced at Mike, bitingher lower lip. Mike only had time enough to hope he didn’t look as idiotic ashe felt.

“Are you guys free after two on Wednesdays?” Jane asked,directing her question to Will.

“Definitely,” Will said.

“Okay! Well, I’ll see you guys then,” Jane said, walking tothe door, pulling her suitcase behind her. She opened the door, then beforewalking out, made a show of checking her bag. Then she gave that same grin,directed at both of them. “Had to make sure,” she said. She winked and gave alittle wave, before shutting the door behind her.

A couple beats of silence passed. Mike grew hot with embarrassment,and turned to see Will grinning diabolically at him.

“Did you just make a lunch date…for me?” Mike said, noemotion in his voice.

“Kinda had to, you were making cow eyes at her the wholetime, I had to do something,” Will said, pulling Mike’s suitcase across the roomand lifting it onto his bed.

“You’re my boyfriend,”Mike almost yelled.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m chaperoning.”

“Chaperoning?”

“Jane seems pretty cool, I want to see her again too, y’know,”Will said, unzipping Mike’s suitcase. Still not looking at him.  

Mike huffed, not replying. He couldn’t think of what to say.Will was right. Jane did seem cool. He definitely wanted to see her again, too.But why?

Then Mike saw something that made his stomach drop.

“Will, goddammit,” Mike said.

“What?” Will said, turning to him.

Mike pointed. On the floor in front of Mike’s TV stand was apair of Jane’s pink socks.

[oldguardaudio]

Fact-Checking 6 Claims at Senate Democrats’ Voting Law Hearing

Fact-Checking 6 Claims at Senate Democrats’ Voting Law Hearing

Fred Lucas / @FredLucasWH / July 19, 2021

"Spurred on by the big lie, these same actors are now rolling back voting rights in a way that is unprecedented in size and scope since the Jim Crow era,” Sen. Raphael Warnock, D-Ga., testifies Monday during a Senate Rules Committee hearing on Georgia's new voting law in Atlanta. (Photo: Elijah Nouvelage/Getty Images)

Senate Democrats took their push to nullify state election laws on the road Monday, holding a “field hearing” in Atlanta to attack Georgia’s recent election reforms and promote their bill to eliminate voter ID and other requirements. 

Only Democrat members of the Senate Rules and Administration Committee showed up to question witnesses, also all Democrats. 

Committee Chairwoman Amy Klobuchar, D-Minn., said Republicans had the opportunity to call a witness to defend the Georgia law, but didn’t request one. A spokesperson for the committee’s ranking member, Sen. Roy Blunt, R-Mo., didn’t respond Monday to The Daily Signal’s emails and phone inquiries on this point. 

The hearing, held at the National Center for Civil and Human Rights, included numerous assertions, some true, but others debunked in previous fact checks. 

  Here’s a look at six big claims from the hearing in Atlanta, which Democrats titled “Protecting the Vote.”

1. ‘Hurdles’ to Ballot Drop Boxes

Sen. Raphael Warnock, D-Ga., isn’t a member of the Rules and Administration Committee, but was the first witness in his home state. Warnock, who took office in January, criticized Georgia’s election reform law for “reducing the number of drop boxes where voters can return those ballots.”  

Klobuchar jumped in later to say, “If you’re looking for evil, you can find it pretty easily” in the Georgia law. 

“Drop-off boxes cannot stay open beyond the time of the early voting,” Klobuchar said, adding, “Some of these voters were working day and night, several jobs, then they can’t go to a drop-off box.” 

The fact is that ballot drop boxes weren’t used in Georgia nor in most other states before the 2020 election, which took place during the COVID-19 pandemic.  

Georgia election officials provided drop boxes to collect voters’ ballots based on Gov. Brian Kemp’s emergency order to address voting concerns during the pandemic. 

But for Senate Bill 202, passed by Georgia lawmakers, officials wouldn’t have to provide drop boxes in future elections. That said, fewer drop boxes will be available as those elections presumably take place without a pandemic.

Also, the new law restricts voting by drop box to hours when early in-person voting is available.

Each county in Georgia must provide at least one drop box under the law. But boxes will have to be located near early-voting sites and be accessible for dropping off absentee ballots when those polling locations are open. 

2. ‘Big Lie’

Democrat senators and witnesses argued that the law in Georgia and other election reforms across the United States were prompted by former President Donald Trump’s claim that his election loss in November to President Joe Biden was fraudulent. 

“We saw record-breaking voter turnout in our last elections—participation that should have been celebrated—get attacked by craven politicians, and, spurred on by the big lie, these same actors are now rolling back voting rights in a way that is unprecedented in size and scope since the Jim Crow era,” Warnock said. 

Biden beat Trump by about 12,000 votes out of 4.9 million cast, according to official final results, to win Georgia’s 16 electoral votes. 

Georgia state Rep. Bill Mitchell, a Democrat and president of the National Black Caucus of State Legislators, called the November election a major success.  

“I define its success not by our candidates’ winning their elections, but by the fact that when you have as many people vote as we did in the 2020 election cycle, with as few problems, with all challenges being dismissed—you have to consider that to be successful,” Mitchell said. 

Mitchell later said “The Heritage Foundation and others” were pushing election reform legislation. 

The Heritage Foundation, a leading conservative think tank, is the parent organization of The Daily Signal. 

“When you have the highest levels of voter participation, combined with the lowest levels of challenges, why would you want to change that?” Mitchell said. 

However, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution last week reported that digital ballot images show that Fulton County election officials scanned about 200 ballots two times in the November election. Skeptics of the election results argue that apparent double counting is evidence of a need for a closer examination of ballots in Georgia. 

The newspaper noted that the discovery was unlikely to change the election results in Georgia. But some conservative commentators, such as Fox News Channel’s Tucker Carlson, expressed concern about the finding. 

The duplication of at least 200 ballots is evidence of problems with tallying votes in Georgia, but far from proof that the state’s election results were affected in Biden’s favor. 

3. ‘Adequate Polling Locations’

One of the more compelling witnesses was neither a lawmaker nor an activist, but a voter named Jose Segarra. The Air Force veteran told his story of waiting in line for hours.

“I, along with thousands of Georgians, had to wait for hours in order to cast my vote in the 2020 general election,” he said. 

“Our government needs to ensure that we have adequate systems and processes in place to allow every eligible voter to cast their ballot without such undue burdens,” Segarra said without specifying federal or state government, adding: 

To do this, we need to have an adequate number of polling locations and these locations to be properly resourced and open for as expansive a period as possible. Voters should have the opportunity to vote on Saturdays and Sundays. Lots of people work on Saturdays, so Sundays need to be an option. It would also make it much easier for some people to vote if Election Day were a federal holiday.

Georgia’s new election law does provide “additional voting equipment or poll workers to precincts containing more than 2,000 electors.” 

The law added early voting on two Saturdays and one Sunday that previously were not available to Georgians, stating: 

Requiring two Saturday voting days and two optional Sunday voting days will dramatically increase the total voting hours for voters across the state of Georgia, and all electors in Georgia will have access to multiple opportunities to vote in person on the weekend for the first time.

Under the new law, counties in Georgia have flexibility to open early voting for as long as from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., or from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. at minimum. 

Previously, some rural counties didn’t provide for early voting for eight hours on a workday, The Washington Post reported. 

Thus, the law actually expanded hours for early voting. 

4. ‘Mass Challenges’

Warnock announced new legislation he is co-sponsoring with fellow Senate Democrats Jeff Merkley of Oregon, Mark Warner of Virginia, and Jon Ossoff of Georgia. Ossoff, like Warnock, took office in January after defeating a Republican incumbent in a special election. 

The legislation, called the Preventing Election Subversion Act, seeks to prevent the overturning of elections based on mass challenges or by legislators controlling the makeup of a state board of elections. 

The proposal is tied directly to provisions that Warnock said are in SB 202, the basis of Georgia’s new law. 

Warnock said Georgia’s law would let “a single person make unlimited, mass challenges to the ability of other Georgians to vote, clearing the way for baseless accusations.” 

The language of the law does make it more difficult for government officials to outright dismiss a complaint about election procedures and ballots. Specifically, it says:  

Any elector [voter] of a county or municipality may challenge the qualifications of any person applying to register to vote in the county or municipality and may challenge the qualifications of any elector of the county or municipality whose name appears on the list of electors. Such challenges shall be in writing and shall specify distinctly the grounds of the challenge. 

There shall not be a limit on the number of persons whose qualifications such elector may challenge. Upon such challenge being filed with the [local] board of registrars, the registrars shall set a hearing on such challenge within ten business days after serving notice of the challenge.

As another justification for his legislation, Warnock argued that Georgia’s new law “allows partisan officials in the state Legislature to control our state board of elections and take over local election administrators, and it allows them to engage in these takeovers even as the votes are still being cast.”

The Associated Press reported in March that under the new law, the Legislature does indeed have an increased role in the State Election Board, but it can’t overturn elections at a whim, as Warnock seemed to suggest. 

Georgia’s elected secretary of state has a diminished role in elections under the new law. This is the basis for Democrats’ claim that partisan politics could play a role.  

“The secretary of state will no longer chair the State Election Board, becoming instead a non-voting ex-officio member,” Georgia Public Broadcasting explained in a report. “The new chair would be nonpartisan but appointed by a majority of the state House and Senate. The chair would not be allowed to have been a candidate, participate in a political party organization or campaign or [have] made campaign contributions for two years prior to being appointed.”

5. ‘Rushed Through’

Georgia state Sen. Sally Harrell, D-Dunwoody, said the Republican-sponsored law lacked adequate input from Democrats in the state Legislature. 

“Election bills were rushed through without public input and voted out along party lines,” Harrell said. “Questions addressed to bill authors by minority members were frequently answered dishonestly and disrespectfully. … In the nine years, I have served in the [Georgia] General Assembly, I have never seen such blatant disregard for the legislative process as I did with the passage of SB 202.”

Previous media reporting shows the legislation moved quickly through the Legislature to Kemp’s desk. Questioning this speed has been a consistent line among critics, including the U.S. Justice Department. 

Assistant U.S. Attorney General Kristen Clarke, who is leading the federal lawsuit against Georgia’s voting law, has said the bill was “a rushed process that departed from normal practice and procedure.”

“The version of the bill that passed the state Senate … was three pages long,” Clarke said in June during a press conference announcing the litigation. “Days later, the bill ballooned into over 90 pages in the House. The House held less than two hours of floor debate on the newly inflated SB 202 before Gov. Kemp signed it into law the same day.”

6.  Water Bottles, Ballot Harvesting

Warnock also complained that Georgia’s election law is “making it harder for community organizations to assist voters, whether from requesting a ballot to just handing out a bottle of water.”

The law prohibits campaign workers from distributing food, drink, or anything else of value to waiting voters, and from setting up a table within 150 feet of the building or 25 feet of a voter. 

However, the law specifically allows official poll workers, as opposed to campaign workers, to provide water to voters. 

As for the “community organizations” Warnock cited, the law prohibits ballot harvesting, a controversial practice in which  political operatives obtain large numbers of ballots from election officials and then deliver the ballots to those officials once they’ve been voted. 

The practice has been used to achieve fraud in several elections, among them a North Carolina congressional race later overturned in court and a Texas mayor’s race that led to multiple indictments. 

Have an opinion about this article? To sound off, please email letters@DailySignal.com and we’ll consider publishing your edited remarks in our regular “We Hear You” feature. Remember to include the URL or headline of the article plus your name and town and/or state. 

The Daily Signal depends on the support of readers like you. Donate now

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[your-dietician]

Vaccine Access Issues for People of Color – Diabetes Daily

New Post has been published on https://depression-md.com/vaccine-access-issues-for-people-of-color-diabetes-daily/

Vaccine Access Issues for People of Color – Diabetes Daily

This content originally appeared on Beyond Type 1. Republished with permission.

By Kayla Hui, MPH

On April 21, 2021, the Kaiser Family Foundation released updated data that found that Black and Hispanic people received a smaller share of COVID-19 vaccinations when compared to their share of coronavirus cases and deaths. Throughout the pandemic, communities of color have borne the disproportionate burden of COVID-19, highlighting the importance of equitable vaccine access. Vaccine access is not only crucial for people of color, but for those with underlying medical conditions such as diabetes. When overlaid with disparities such as implicit bias, it creates a compounded healthcare issue for communities of color with diabetes.

Unfortunately, vaccine access for communities of color has been all but fair. In Arizona, Hispanic people have only received 14 percent of vaccines despite accounting for 40 percent of COVID cases and 31 percent of deaths. And in Michigan, Black people only received eight percent of vaccines despite comprising 23 percent of deaths.

“Because of long standing economic discrimination, communities of color are much more likely to find themselves in jobs where they can’t take off work without docking their pay. They have to work certain hours and aren’t able to get away for a vaccine appointment,” Michelle Andrasik, PhD, clinical health psychologist and affiliate assistant professor of Global Health at the University of Washington, tells Beyond Type 1.

Communities of color have an increased burden of COVID-19 for a variety of reasons including required exposure during work. For Black and Hispanic people, 24 percent were employed by service industries compared to 16 percent of whites. These industries include restaurant, hospitality, and retail work, all of which require people-facing interactions.

People of color are also more likely to live in multigenerational households and in densely populated urban areas and housing situations, further exacerbating coronavirus transmission. In urban counties across the U.S., people of color comprised 56 percent of the population. Additionally, data showed that four in ten Black people (41 percent), Hispanics (38 percent), and Asians (38 percent) lived in areas surrounded by multi unit residential buildings compared to 23 percent of whites.

Another driver of inequitable vaccine access is vaccine hesitancy due to broken trust in healthcare providers among communities of color. Mila Clarke Buckley, a diabetes and food blogger who created the Hangry Woman, was diagnosed in 2016 with type 2 diabetes–a condition where the body cannot properly use insulin. However, after months of failed medications and skyrocketing blood sugar levels, Clarke Buckley discovered—after taking an antibody test with an endocrinologist—she had type 1 diabetes. “I was misdiagnosed with type 2 diabetes which has given me a little bit of distrust in the healthcare system,” Clarke Buckley says.

Clarke Buckley is not alone in her experience. Phyllisa Deroze, a global diabetes patient advocate and blogger, shares that she wanted to get vaccinated, but did not want to be the first due to the legacy of the nation’s medical racism. “The field of gynecology in America was created on the wounds of Black women who were enslaved. And so there’s just really a long history in America of just not treating Black people like human beings and using them as experiments,” Deroze says.

Deroze was told by one healthcare provider that her electrolytes were off, which prompted her to ask her provider for an antibody test. But that provider was offended when Deroze asked to be tested for antibodies. “I was once again denied antibody testing. It was clear that the endocrinologist was offended by me even asking,” Deroze says.

Deroze was misdiagnosed twice for type 2 diabetes, once in 2011 and another time in 2018, albeit having type 1 diabetes. Her misdiagnosis led her to experience diabetic ketoacidosis. “My life was on the line. And that shouldn’t happen,” Deroze says. “If a person is diagnosed with type 2 diabetes, what is the harm in testing for antibodies just to make sure you’re treating the right condition?” It wasn’t until 2019 when Deroze was properly diagnosed with type 1 diabetes by her gynecologist

Clarke Buckley also recalls suggesting antibody testing on numerous occasions to medical providers. However, her idea kept getting shut down, putting her at risk for long-term complications as a result of untreated type 1 diabetes. These complications include: foot problems, urinary tract infections, eye disease, skin infections, heart disease, kidney disease, and even death. “It’s communities of color that are subjected to the system that essentially puts us at additional risk,” Clarke Buckley says.

Misdiagnosis of diabetes among people of color is not uncommon and is just one example of the bias of the medical system. Research shows that glycated hemoglobin (HbA1c)—a measure of average blood sugar over three months that can show evidence of diabetes—is not an adequate health measurement for all genetic ancestry groups. Particularly for African ancestry groups, additional screening may be necessary to diagnose diabetes. This leaves hundreds of thousands of African Americans with type 2 diabetes undiagnosed. Additionally, a high HbA1c measurement alone does not prove that a person has type 2 diabetes. It only proves that glucose levels are consistently high. Therefore, an autoimmune antibody test must be done to confirm or rule out type 1 diabetes. Because type 1 diabetes differs heavily from type 2 diabetes in that type 1 always requires insulin treatment, a misdiagnosis could be fatal and lead a person without insulin into diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA), a complication that occurs when the body does not receive enough insulin to break down glucose. DKA can lead to coma and even death.

Some states have made efforts to curb the unequal distribution of vaccines. For example, in Vermont, Black adults and other people of color were given priority status for vaccines. But despite these intentions, many state efforts have fallen short.

Kia Skrine Jeffers, PhD, RN, PHN, assistant professor at the University of California Los Angeles School of Nursing tells Beyond Type 1 that in California, the state distributed vaccine access codes to improve COVID-19 vaccine availability and access for hard-hit Black and Latino communities. “The special code that people of color could use to register to get the vaccine was being distributed among people who were not people of color,” Jeffers says. Instead, wealthier populations who work from home were misusing the system, the Los Angeles Times originally reported.

Anna Lopes, MD, family physician based in Southern California, explains that the underlying culprit of vaccine inequity is systemic racism. Lopes references the Tuskegee Syphilis Study, an ethically abusive study that failed to treat and inform Black men of syphilis in the 1930s and the forced sterilization of Puerto Rican women. “There was significant hesitancy in the Black community, and other communities of color, specifically because of institutional racism,” Lopes says.

Achieving Vaccine Equity

Jeffers suggests that to achieve health equity, health leadership must reflect and have representation from the communities they serve. “If you don’t have community stakeholders involved in the planning, then community perspective is often overlooked or underappreciated,” Jeffers explains.

In addition to having representation in health leadership, Jeffers and Andrasik add that equity involves recognizing and rectifying historical injustices and distributing resources like vaccines to populations that need it the most.

“What we have found in terms of access is that you really have to take the vaccine where people are. We have partnered with Black churches, community centers, and community organizations to open up vaccination sites,” Andrasik explains. “In doing that partnering, the vaccination sites then reach out to their local communities they have long standing relationships with.”

Still, people of color are struggling to access vaccines due to transportation, financial, language, and nebulous registration barriers. To achieve equity, Andrasik, Jeffers, and Lopes stress that states need to be more intentional with their vaccine rollout process to make equity intentional. “All of these access issues really create barriers that are easily mitigated when we really think outside the box and think about how we can do things differently, and in partnership with communities,” Andrasik says. Vaccine access for people of color with diabetes is just the first step toward equity.

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[sextraffickinginthecity]

Transcript of interview with Alyssa Tolva. Alyssa is the Events and Community Engagement Manager with The Cupcake Girls, a local nonprofit that works to educate people about sex trafficking. 

Disclaimer: This organization is non-political, non-religious, and nonprofit. Alyssa refrained from any comments that were in any way political. 

Here is the transcript: 

People highlighted in discussion: Yasmeen Ziada, Hannah Derwey, and Alyssa Tolva. 

Ziada: Based on our research so far, we know that The Cupcake Girls offer support to survivors of sex trafficking through confidential support, case management, and after-care. Can you tell us more about what that looks like?

Tolva: Yeah. So, um, the main thing that we do is, um, when we have our first meeting with our class, we sit down and we simply just asked what do you need? What do you want from us? And then that way it kind of sets intentions for them to be able to see, you know, we really do care and want to know what they want, what they need, how they need it. Because a lot of times they're not being asked that, especially if they are being sex trafficked. Most of the time, they're being told what to do. So we want to find out their needs. It could look as something simple of, "I just need simple hygiene products to be able to get ready for the day," all the way to, "I need legal help," or, "I need, you know, medical," or etc. So what we do is we go into the community, and we find community partners who want to offer their services for either free or pro bono. Most of our partners are pro bono partners, which is really cool because we can just be like, "Ugh, thank you. It's free. Umm, and it ranges from everything. You know, our partners stem from whatever our clients are asking for. So it could be a yoga studio because they want to do work out, childcare if they can't afford childcare for their kids. Could be legal assistance, immigration assistance, dental work--we have somebody who does free gel manicures for a client, so I mean really anything. And, like, yeah. We have currently over 134 partners here in Portland and surrounding area, so it's just a wide, just, brim of everything. 

The after-care side of it. So a lot of organizations that deal with sex trafficking survivors are, you know, that, "I'm gonna come in here, and I'm going to take you out of it, and I'm going to set you free," and they literally do that. They're like, "great, you're out of it, have a great life". And the issue is that the stats are shown that they will go back at least 8 times before they officially are okay to leave and that's just because a lot of times, it's, you know, mental abuse. It's what they know. It's what they can do. If they have any type of, you know, record for being arrested, that makes it harder to survive. And so it's just kind of redundant to be like on your merry way and not be able to finish. So for us, we want to continue that service, so we don't have a time length that they can be clients. They can come, they can go. They might get service, leave, and come back a year or ten years later. It doesn't matter, but the fact is that we want to be able to say we are here no matter what you're going through no matter what your time length is and even if you have been a survivor for 60 years and you are, like, set and gold and now all of a sudden you need something, we're still here for you. It doesn't matter. Yeah, does that kind of answer that?

Ziada: Yes, it does. Another question just came up for me. It's not written down or anything, but how long have The Cupcake Girls been established?

Tolva: Eight years. Well, nine years in March is our birthday. So let's just say 9 cuz it's close to me. Right? Yeah. So yeah, we've been around for nine years. Um, started in Las Vegas and six months after that started here in Portland. So it's kind of a whirlwind, but you yeah, yeah. And I know it's kind of cool and you know, it's funny cuz we have been in here in Portland for 9 years, but I feel like the last two years is really where we're starting to get recognition and people are more likely "I know the cupcake girls," instead of, like, "who?".

Derwey: What policies do you think are, like, the least helpful in combating sex trafficking.Respondent: Um, yeah. So I just have to put a stipulation out that we're legally a non-political, non-religious, nonprofit. So I cannot answer anything that talks about politics, policies, litigation, any of that. Yeah, so I'm sorry about that.

Yasmeen: No worries! Thank you for telling us. Next question: On top of offering support to survivors, you offer support to survivors of sex trafficking in Portland, and we know that last month was sex trafficking awareness month and you partnered with a bunch of local businesses. Which was amazing. We were wondering what are some other ways you raise awareness of sex trafficking in Portland. And then what are the positive impacts that come from awareness? 

Tolva: Um, lots of different ways. So that was that was a big one that we did, and that was kind of, you know, "how can we really get the community involved and spread the word as quickly as possible?". So that was a really cool program. We were super excited about it. And, you know, what's really cool seeing all these like big-name places putting our name on their social media because, just like, how many more people know about it now?We go to different events. It could be a college fair. It could be like tonight; we're going to go to the mystery box show and table in there. Could be a coffee house. So we have a lot of tabling opportunities. We will have resource cards that talk about who we are and, oh gosh I think maybe like, 30 of the resources we offer we have over three hundred and seventy resources here in Portland as well. We will have brochures on what sex trafficking is, we'll be there to talk to people, the opportunity to be face-to-face with people, and have them ask questions and have us answer. We also go into local businesses, and we do presentations for them, especially within the medical field. We like to go all kind of like the lunch hour have that meeting presentation because there is a lot of--Excuse me. I have asthma, so I choke a lot but whatever. It's my life.So we'll go, and we'll help educate them on the different ways our clients have experienced trauma within medical um, especially sex trafficking survivors. So we can kind of coach them on, you know, how not to do that, but also signs of trafficking so they can hopefully, you know, say like, "hey, if you don't here's an organization that might be able to help you." We go do presentations all the time, not just within the medical field. We're going to go to a classroom at Lewis and Clark next week, we go into people's homes when they throw fundraisers, and we talk about it. So there is a lot of different ways that we like to kind of explain it. I think the biggest thing of raising awareness is a lot of people have a misconstrued idea of what trafficking looks like. Have we seen the movie Taken with Liam Nelson? Are you guys too young? I'm older than I look. That's what most people think of trafficking. It's not that I mean it can't be that, but here in Portland primarily it's people who are in the community. It could be a classmate, your barista. It could be a friend or family member. What we like to say is that it's like chains on the brain. So a lot of times, they either do not understand they're being trafficked because of all of these misconstrued ideas of what trafficking is. They are being abused to the point where they think that it's just normal and okay. They are being told you know, "I have your kids. So what are you going to do? I have your ID and Social Security or immigration cards. You can't leave me; you won't have those. Um, to all the way of you know, your parents are super conservative, and I have all of this stuff to tell them if you leave me so."-- it's just it's so in-depth, and it's not going to be that easy for them. Sometimes they don't even know they can ask for help and unfortunately being a sex trafficking and sex work, although it ties in together are very very very different.A lot of times people are going to say like, oh, well, they don't need help they chose to do this. Sometimes they didn't choose to do it. Sometimes they do which is great all power to them. But that's the biggest part of it is that they just sometimes don't. And also, for us, there's a multitude of different types of pimps. So if you have a pimp, you're being trafficked, that's just flat-out plain-out. If you're not in control of their money if you're being coerced into this, you're being trafficked, but a lot of times, they're a Romeo. So it's like a boyfriend or girlfriend that are coming in, and they're saying, "Oh, I love you, you love me, and if you love me, you're going to do this," etcetera. And so they care, and they're just helping out. So it's it's very confusing sometimes, and it's not always men, I also want to throw that out there. For us, currently, 58% of our clients has said that their trafficker identifies as female, so it's not just a male problem. I was at a Junior League event recently, and they were like, you know, "men stand up men. You're the problem. But we stood up and said actually, it's an all person problem because our clients have experienced it by 58%". Everybody in the room kind of just sat there and stared at us, and we're like mhmm. Like, don't just throw it on one gender. You know? Do your stats. And that's the truth for us. And Romeo is the most popular type of pimp within our clients as well.

Derwey: How do you think the stigma is around sex work harm sex trafficking victims?

Tolva: How do I answer that without being political? If you're in sex work, you're being trafficked, and nobody is going to choose to be a sex worker, and for us also part on are educating of sex trafficking is we want to educate on sex worker, and a lot of people do choose to do it because they want to and it's also sometimes it's survival work. It's what they can do, and it's what's going to pay the bills. And so I think the stigma of people just literally thinking nobody would absolutely want to sell their body or do something for that puts the idea of that every single sex worker is going to be trafficked and it's unfortunate that happens, and so that's part of what we do as well. Wanting to separate and educate cuz we also support sex workers. Did I answer that? Okay. It's a fine line for us, so I have to be careful.

Ziada: What motivated you to join this organization? Respondent: I left a career of 18 years corporate, and I was so sick of it. Umm, so I wanted to find an organization that not only supported some type of minority or people that are being stigmatized. But I was looking for an organization that dealt really primarily with the other women or young girls. And so, you know, I was looking at like Girls Inc., which is amazing. But I found this organization, and I just got really intrigued because I know that Portland has a huge sex trafficking issue. That's just it's out there, it's open. If you don't know that, then you just your eyes aren't there. But also sex work. I have a ton of sex worker friends if you're in Portland, you know that there are a ton of strip clubs and it's just--it's all over and to find an organization that was like "Hey, we're not religious, we're not political, we're really really just here for that human being experiencing whatever they're experiencing, and we're not going to tell them what they're experiencing even if they're being trafficked." We don't tell them they're being trafficked. We let them come to that conclusion after working with us for some time and reading our pamphlets and hearing us talk. But I was just so intrigued because the majority of organizations that I came into that dealt with trafficking was usually religious out of a church. They don't support sex workers, you know, they have their own ideas, may have their own judgments and so to hear an organization say, you know, we're non-judgmental, we have no agenda, we simply want to give resources for as free as possible to them. We don't put a cap on it; we're all gender. It was just like: Oh my god. Tell me more.The more that I learned about this organization, I was like I have to be a part of it and it just it worked out to the point where we didn't have a spot for me at the time that I was interviewing, and we simply worked a spot in and it was just perfect and beautiful, and I loved it was just like thank you. I think--I think the issue is that there is so much stigma within this world and to find an organization that wants to literally educate people on how not to have that is amazing.

Ziada: Next question is, what satisfactions or dissatisfactions come from doing this work?

Tolva: Satisfaction is being able to educate people. Being able to see the impact on our clients' lives, you know, hearing their stories here and their quotes. You know, letting us know how we're actually helping them has been amazing. Having them in our office space, being able to see them weekly, whether be at our counseling or other support groups, and able to just see the growth that they have is really cool. And being able to support sex workers in a way that most sex workers are not supported within our community. I think it's huge. Dissatisfaction? I mean definitely seeing -- So another thing that happened at the Junior League, we had a commissioner stand up, and they were like, you know, we have helped 63 people in this year who were being trafficked, and we were like, "you are a government entity. You have so much money literally being thrown at you. You don't even have to work for it, and you've helped 63 when we have literally helped over 450 clients every year? And our budget is a hundred thousand. Like and we are working our butts off to get that money". So that's, I mean, that is a dissatisfaction. That we have to work so hard to get this but yet we are able to help so many more people, and then another entity that doesn't have to work for the money is not helping. Dissatisfaction: seeing- nope, I can't say that. SO many internal thoughts. Dissatisfaction- seeing the stigma, being in the community part of my job is to do those tabling events. As I was telling you, to go find our community partners, and then have people just kind of look at you and just unsure of why you're helping this community. And we have some really cruel things said sometimes. You know? And it's very very sad. Sometimes we're able to change the tide with a conversation, and again that educating, you know standpoint. But a lot of people have very very set ideas of our clients in the end. They just do not understand why and I think it's really sad. I think it's also a dissatisfaction when people put out you, know, like news articles, or even social media when they don't fully understand what we do. But they put out an opinion about what we do. It is for us, we look at that like how many possible clients saw that and don't want to come to us just because this one person didn't want to take the time to ask a question? So those are definitely dissatisfactions. Also, the fact that we have to do it fucking sucks you know? Sorry I cuss a lot.

Ziada: The next question is, what do you think are the most important things people should know about sex trafficking, and how can they easily get involved?

Tolva: Yeah, I think understanding what trafficking actually is. So do the time. Do the googling, do the studying, whatever you need to do, but I think really understanding the different types of trafficking because yeah, there are the ones that you know, get stuck in dog cages for 6 months--we had a client who experienced that--but there are also people who, again, are just in the community. I could be trafficked, and you might not even know, and I could be sitting here talking about it, you know, so I think really understanding the different types of trafficking, understanding the different types of pimps, I think is huge because it's also something that allows you to see the world in a little bit of a different light. Being able to kind of look at something and go, "I don't think that that looks like a very safe situation that actually looks like what just learned so I might try to talk to that person later when their private," understanding not to swoop in and try to have that savior complex of like, "I do see something that scares me; I'm going to go talk to them. But doing it in front of somebody who might be there traffic her," which again is that also helps understanding that women are traffickers as well. So it's not just like I'm going to wait till they're in the ladies' room because their trafficker I might be in there and that's going to put a very unsafe scenario for them. Understanding the signs can help but unfortunately, the signs you know that you see on like the Polaris website which, not a fan of Polaris, but you know, they have signs of what to look for it, and it's like yeah, okay that might work for somebody who's like in severe trafficking who is that--you know--with the gorilla pimp who is coming in and doing all this force and abuse. Yeah, that's a little bit more easy to pinpoint, but there's so many other types. And so I think definitely taking your time. Education. Taking a class even can help or doing what you're doing, coming to an organization that deals with that, and doing your studies. I think is huge. Also, Volunteer! We have three staff members here in Portland with over currently active 89 clients. Yeah, so we are volunteer ran here, and we would not be able to do what we do without volunteers. And we only ask for five hours a month. So for our organization, that would be the best way to get involved. Also, donating. Monthly donators is huge. We'll never turn down help. Ever ever ever. Unless you come in and say I want to save the girls we're like, no, you can't be here. Other ways to help get involved--look at your community and see what other organizations are helping. You know, again, do your research.But you know, it's just go to search of what you can do to help. Obviously, with the understanding that you're not coming in to have that, you know, savior complex, that's I'm going to help save the world. So you just come and help the people. That's all you need to do. 

Ziada: Last question. To you, what are the most effective ways of getting rid of sex trafficking as best as possible, in Portland. 

Tolva: Ways to eliminate sex trafficking- definitely working on the stigma. I think it's huge. Making sure people fully understand what it is and how we how we affect and how we control it. There's a lot of the political side that I can't talk about, but I'm sure you can do your research and kind of figure out where I'm going with that. But I think the biggest thing is just having compassion for the survivors and understanding like you know, even if they chose to be in their situation, they're not choosing it. You know, they're being coerced into it. And so just having that compassionate side and just looking at them and then you know as a human being asking how you can help, how you can learn. What you're doing is great today.A lot of people say victims, and we here at The Cupcake Girls don't call them victims at all because that puts a sense of, you know, "oh you poor thing," and a lot of them don't look at that. A lot of them are like, "this is my life. It's what's happening," or you know, "I'm okay right now". So we want to say survivor because you are surviving this. You are getting through this, or you have gone through this one way or another. We're here to help you get that way. And so I really hate seeing the victimization of clients and those who aren't even our clients.

Thank you's all around. END OF TRANSCRIPT.

[xoheatherkw]

Just For Show - Camsten Fic

Hi Alyssa @stitchedatbirth Here’s your stitchmas fic! I really loved your idea that Kirsten wouldn’t keep the fake amnesia a secret from Cameron, and I ran with it. Set immediately after 3x10. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

Thank you Sheila & Alyssa @stitchmasinjuly for organizing this for the Stitchers family. And a quick thanks to my trust beta and cheerleader @your-stitcher-thursday 

~Later that night~

Kirsten took a deep breath before knocking swiftly on Cameron’s door.

She went through one last mental check while waiting. Overnight bag, check. Phone with notes typed up, check. Cameron’s keys (in case he didn’t answer), check. Nerves, also check.

She was about to unlock the door when Cameron opened it.

“What are you doing here?,” he deadpanned.

She pushed her way through, just like she had so many times before.

“I wanted to see if you were okay. You seemed pretty upset earlier today,” she responded. Kirsten set down her bag and kicked off her shoes, right around the corner from his entryway.

Cameron watched her make herself at home in his apartment. It’s almost as if… no, it couldn’t be.

“I’m fine,” he responded curtly.

Kirsten walked up to Cameron, still standing in his open doorway, and showed him her phone.

ACT NORMAL

I need to sweep for bugs.

Cameron nodded slowly, unsure as to what was actually going on. “How did you know where I live, anyways?,” he inquired.

Kirsten pulled up her encrypted app and started sweeping his apartment. “Camille told me. She said we were friends.”

Nothing came up on her sweep of the entryway to kitchen, so she continued on towards his living room.

“Yeah, we were something like that.” Cameron closed his front door and followed Kirsten to the living room.

“Apparently Camille is moving in with her girlfriend. She seemed nice when they were over earlier.”

Kirsten noticed the flash across her screen, notifying her that a listening device was within five feet. She held up her index finger to motion for Cameron to be quiet.

She looked under the lamp and around his end table, coming up empty. She checked along the underside of the couch, also nothing. Next she checked the TV stand. “So are you a Star Wars fan, based on your choice of movie?,”she asked, pointing at the collector’s edition boxed set that was next to his blu ray player.

He was just in the middle of watching Star Wars Episode VI before Kirsten had showed up unannounced. “Absolutely! Episodes IV through VI were clearly the best, although I was pleasantly impressed by Episode VII. And Episode VIII will be out later this year.”

“Yeah, Camille told me they’re making the next three. I’ll have to check out VII. Is this the one with the ewoks?,” she asked, motioning to his TV.

“Ahh yes, the teddy bears of the Star Wars Universe. Yeah, they’re in this movie.”

“Teddy bears? Ewoks are freaking awesome,” she exclaimed. “They’re like badass ninja teddy bears, clearly superior to ‘just teddy bears.’ They’re definitely my favorite part of that movie.”

Cameron chuckled, because of course she would love ewoks. Although they had an eerily similar conversation when the two of them did a Star Wars marathon on a holiday weekend, just a few months ago.

Coming up short on the TV stand, she inspected his coffee table and discovered a small electronic device, tucked on the inside of one of the coffee table’s legs. It couldn’t have been larger than the size of a dime.

You wouldn’t have noticed it unless you were specifically looking.

Cameron’s eyes widened at the discovery. Just when he was about to ask, Kirsten pulled up her phone and scrolled down to her next message for him to read. She thought this through, coming up with a response just in case she found a bug.

Remember, act normal!

Destroy it some other time.

I need to sweep the rest of your apartment. Pack a bag so we can go somewhere to talk freely.

Kirsten carefully put the bug back under his coffee table and continued her scan of the apartment.

“Since Maggie gave everyone some time off, can you explain exactly what it is that we do in the lab?” She attempted to keep the conversation away from what she was actually doing, and away from what she actually wanted to tell him.

Cameron led the way into his bedroom and grabbed a small overnight bag from his closet. “Didn’t Maggie brief you on that today?”

“Well she did, but I don’t think my brain was focused enough to really process what she said.”

Cameron nodded, and started pulling clothes out of his drawer and into his bag. “Fair enough. Basically  we solve crimes by inserting your consciousness into the brains of victims that the NSA acquires from the LA county coroner’s office.”

“You put my consciousness into people’s dead, degrading brains?” Kirsten feigned a look of disgust, which illicited a chuckle from Cameron.

“Sounds icky when you put it like that, doesn’t it?”

“Just a bit. So how does that work, exactly?” She finished the sweep of his apartment, only detecting the one bug in the living room.

“The brain is a bio-electrical device and we have protocols to slow down deterioration of the victim’s brain. That allows us approximately forty-eight hours to stitch in and get information. When you stitch in your body projects an image of yourself, as if you were actually there.”

“In that suit? The one that my mother woke up in,” she clarified.

“The one and only.”

“What exactly does the suit do? Other than make me look like a badass catwoman.”

“Badass catwoman indeed, or as we like to call it in the lab, the Rev 2. It’s the badass version of the prior one. But it does serve a functional purpose. The material is a mesh polyester fiber coated in: zinc and blackened nickel over copper. It helps with conductivity between your suit and our sensors.”

“So I stitch in, dressed like catwoman. Wait, do I have to wear the ears and stilettos too?”

He let out a good laugh. “Not necessary, no. But if cat ears and stilettos are your thing, I’d save it for Halloween.”

“Fair enough. So I what… access and interpret the memories I see? I would say that’s impossible, but I guess that’s because I’ve-never-studied-neuroscience-unlike-Cameron.” She smirked at him, continually dropping hints as she went. “Plus Maggie told me I’ve been working with the team for two years.”

He narrowed his eyes and wondered just exactly how much Kirsten remembered. That couldn’t be coincidence.

“How long have you been with the team, Dr. Smartypants?,” she asked.

“Maggie brought me on five years ago, to run the lab and work on perfecting the technology. We ran test stitches for about a year before gathering enough data to get up and running.”

“I see. Maggie said the Stitchers program has been developing for the better part of twenty years, and that my parents both worked on developing it.” Kirsten pulled up her phone again, and scrolled down farther.

All packed and ready to go? I have a plan to get out of the city for the weekend. We need to talk.

Remember, destroy the bug later. When I’m not over, so it’s not as suspicious.

Cameron grabbed his cell phone charger and stuffed that in his bag as well. He nodded and led her out of the bedroom.

“Well I just wanted to stop by to see how you were doing. Would you mind driving me home?,” she asked.

“Sure thing,” he answered cautiously.

They went down the elevator to his parking garage in total silence.

By the time they got to his car, he couldn’t take the suspense anymore. He opened his mouth to ask a question, then promptly closed it. He pulled out his phone and typed a quick question in his notepad to Kirsten, then showing her the screen.

Is it safe to talk now?

She shook her head no. She got out her own phone again, and scrolled farther down. She really had anticipated every scenario.

Not yet. I need to disable the GPS on your phone, so you can’t be tracked. I double checked my phone, GPS tracking is off.

Give me your phone. You drive us to Union Station, we’re leaving your car there for the weekend.  

He nodded and handed over his phone. Luckily he had been to Union Station plenty of times, he knew the way without GPS.

Kirsten worked quickly, disabling both the conventional GPS tracking and the embedded, behind the scenes, tracking. Cameron pulled into the parking structure and Kirsten had her next message up to show him.

We’re each getting a ticket to San Diego, it leaves at 8:25pm. Use your credit card, to leave a paper trail.

We’ll go inside, then I mapped out a route that will skirt along the security camera’s blindspots. We’re actually going to get a rental car and drive up to the mountains. I already fabricated ID’s for us, and took out cash.

Once we get to the rental car and I sweep that for bugs, and disable their vehicle tracking system, then we can talk freely.

She raised an eyebrow in question, to make sure he understood. He nodded in acknowledgment, and they carried out her very well laid out plans.

It was easier than she thought to get around the security cameras. She couldn’t do much about cameras on the street, but she would at least make it difficult for anyone that tracked their movements after the fact.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cameron waited patiently while Kirsten disabled the vehicle’s tracking system. Or he thought he was waiting patiently. She, on the other hand, could feel him staring at the back of her head.

“Calm down, girlfriend. I’m almost done,” she said.

She finished within a few minutes, making sure to tuck the wires back into place. “Alright, we’re good. We can talk,” she said.

Cameron exhaled loudly. “Kirsten! What the heck is going on?!”

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Cameron, we have a lot to talk about, and we have a few days to really talk things over. But I thought you’d like to know, I remember everything.” She couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face.

Cameron, on the other hand, didn’t look convinced. “You remember? Just like that? My mother said she wasn’t sure if you would get your memory back at all, let alone this soon.”

“I didn’t exactly lose my memory. I was a little foggy after getting out of the stitch, but there was no real memory loss. We have all weekend to get into what’s going on, but I can prove it to you. You told me something very important before you closed the corpse cassette on me. I’ll tell you what you said, and you tell me what I said. Deal?”

He eyed her suspiciously, but agreed. “Deal.”

She ran her hands up to frame his face, running her thumb along his jawline. “I love you.”

Cameron let out a shaky breath. Her still present grin seemed to be contagious, because he was beaming as well. “I know,” he replied. He reached across the seat, resting both his hands on her knees.

She circled her arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Well played.”

“It’s really you?,” he asked.

“It’s really me,” she confirmed.

“Then why didn’t you say anything after your briefing with Maggie?” He pulled back to bring her hands in his.

“That’s where it gets complicated,” she started. “No one can know that I remember. Not Maggie, not Linus, no one in the lab. Promise me you won’t say anything?”

His eyes went wide. “Of course, I promise. What’s going on?”

“My father and your mother have been working together for years, right around when the Stitchers Program started with Maggie, my mother, and Ed. Stinger’s been a double agents of sorts, and I’m not entirely clear on why your mother is working with him. I guess she initially helped him out with the neuroscience and nanobot aspect of developing the technology. But my presumption is that her real goal is to get you to leave the program. Didn’t you say she’s been pushing you to accept an opening at MIT?”

“Well yeah, but I didn’t think she would resort to scheming with your father to do it!,” he exclaimed. “Wait, what are they holding against you that you need to lie to everyone?”

“My father threatened you, saying that if I didn’t cooperate with their plan, that he would kill you and make it look like an accident. Then he said if that didn’t work, he would go after Ivy too, because apparently he’s the devil incarnate and not above murdering his own daughter. I couldn’t risk you.”

He almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. But then again, Stinger murdered Blair’s son to get a message to Kirsten. “That’s just… wow. And your mother, does she know what Stinger’s been up to?”

“She assured me that she does not. Although she has a slew of follow up tests with Ayo and your mother. Nothing like evolving the human brain centuries to make you a guinea pig. She’s also doing some reconnaissance to figure out more of Stinger’s plan.”

“Reconnaissance, how?” Granted they had been apart for seventeen years due the stasis pod, but Cameron didn’t think Stinger would willingly share his deep, dark secrets, not even with his wife.

“Telepathy,” she answered.

“I have to revisit that some other time, because that’s the holy grail for a neuroscientist. Studying the changes in synapses and what areas activated to gain that skill.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to geek out when we’re back at work. But even with his threats, I knew I couldn’t keep this from you. You’ll just have to play it cool until we can fake start a relationship.”

“So we’re fake dating now?” He teasingly ran his thumb across the back of her hand, and added a wink for good measure.

“No, more like dating in secret.” She pulled him in closer, the lips just inches apart. “Do you think you can handle that?”

He could feel her breath on his lips, it was intoxicating. Especially after he had given up all hope of Kirsten remembering the last few years, remembering him. It had only been a few hours, but he wasn’t a fan.

“I think I can handle it,” he agreed. He closed the gap and pressed his lips lightly to hers. She smiled into the kiss and threaded her fingers in his hair. He deepened the kiss and his arms circled her waist.

Much too soon for his liking, Kirsten pulled back slightly. “I’ve been wanting to do that all afternoon,” she admitted. “And we’ll have plenty of time for that this weekend, but we should get going. I figured we could come up with a game plan this weekend, figure out where to go from here. Together?”

He put the car in drive, then interlaced their fingers. “Alright Stretch. Together.”

[kindlecomparedinfo]

Tech Will Save Us offers STEM toys you’ll actually use

I hate STEM toys. I have three kids and ultimately every “educational” toy they’ve used – from LittleBits to Nintendo Labo – has ended up in a corner somewhere, ignored for more exciting fare. This happens for a few reasons but the primary one is that the toys require too much attention and have no lasting play value.

Given this fact, I thought our species (or at least my kids) would be doomed to Idiocracy-style techno illiteracy. Luckily, a set of toys from the optimistically-named organization Tech Will Save Us, has changed my mind.

TWSU toys are nice in that they are at once rugged toys that withstand constant play and electronic devices that can be programmed by a clever eight year old. For example, the $60 Creative Coder is basically a LilyPad device with a USB interface and a block-based programming language that lets you program it. The TWSU website features a number of little programs you can upload to the board including a Pokemon sensor that starts out red and white until you shake the board, activating the sensor and causing the lights to blink. My son loved it and he slept in it, strapping the wearable to his wrist like an Apple Watch.

Programming the Creative Coder is very simple. It uses a Scratch -like interface to set colors and activate timers and in a few minutes I was able to make a Ghost Detector that “hunted” for ghosts and then blinked when it found one. I based the idea on an old toy I had in the 1980s called IAN that beeped when it got close to “invisible aliens.” I still remember the excitement I felt walking around in my Grandma’s basement looking for monsters. I think he felt the same excitement.

The other toys – including a simple game machine that uses an Arduino and a 9×9 LED display – were similarly interesting. The game machine, for example, included a primitive version of Flappy Bird that my son played for hours and he was excited to get the LED to spell his name on command. It did, however, require knowledge of Arduino programming which limited the usability. However, because it comes preloaded with a simple game the device felt complete right out of the box.

How are these toys different from all the other STEM junk I’ve tried? Again, they worked out of the box. The Creative Coder could double as a bike light as soon as you assembled it and it came inside of a plastic case that made it a wearable instead of a science project. The other toys were just that – toys – and the programming was an afterthought. Ultimately I’m sure this stuff will end up under the couch, dead and forgotten, but until that happens they’ve supplied a great deal of fun.

STEM toys often focus on the STEM. I suspect this is because engineers are building them and not toymakers. Further, toymakers create things like the Zoomer Playful Pup (another clever toy) and hide all of the technology deep behind layers of plastic. Finding the right balance in so-called STEM toys is incredibly difficult but its doable and, as Tech Will Save Us have proved, these toys don’t have to be too boring or too complex for the kids (and parents) who might buy them.

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8176395 https://techcrunch.com/2018/10/15/tech-will-save-us-offers-stem-toys-youll-actually-use/ via http://www.kindlecompared.com/kindle-comparison/

[yesweweresoldiers]

Surviving—and Thriving in—the Summer Residential Program of MAHG

Did you know? Teaching American History, a project of the Ashbrook Center at Ashland University, offers weeklong summer graduate courses that combine quality instruction with the opportunity to become part of a community of those who love to both learn and teach about America's past. “For anyone who has only taken a MAHG course online, I would say the on-campus class takes it to a whole new level. . . . It’s by far the best intensive professional development experience out there,” says John Giltner. Other graduates of the MAHG program agree.

How can one marathon week away from home be more productive than an online course taken from your home office and steadily paced across eight weeks of the academic year?

That marathon week is designed for convenience. Meals and housing are provided. “Instead of all the other chores and things at home,” you just focus on history, says Gina Knowles. Dedicated history buffs work hard, loving it. When you’re on campus, “you literally eat, breathe, and sleep history for a week with fellow history professionals,” says Robin Deck. “The discussion never ends. That bonding experience with fellow lovers of history cannot be replicated.”

Yet certain strategies can help you get the most from the experience. MAHG graduates offer this advice:

Before the course begins:

1. Complete the assigned reading ahead of the week—or complete as much of it as you can. If you have a free week or two between the end of your school year and the beginning of the course, that’s an ideal time to prepare, says John Talley, since it’s “not so far in advance that you forget the material.” If not, try to read ahead as you are finishing the school year. Write notes or questions in the margins to help you remember key ideas. You will want to reread portions of the reading each night before the next day’s classes. But you can think through the reading more carefully if you are reading it a second time.

Some grads add that reading ahead allows you time for after-dinner discussion sessions at O’Bryan’s, Ashland’s well-loved pub. We remain noncommittal on that point, but offer this from Rusty Eder: “If you do all the reading ahead of time, it gives you the chance to engage in brilliant conversations with very smart people.”

2. Plan to stay in the on-campus apartments. These are furnished with desks as well as sofas, dining tables for shared study sessions, and semi-private baths. While single rooms are available in Andrews Hall (a dormitory with shared corridor bathrooms), you’ll benefit from sharing an apartment with another teacher. You’ll enjoy and learn from the conversation that develops during study breaks.

3. Bring a few items for comfort and convenience (especially if you are driving). The pillows provided with the basic linen set are new, inexpensive polyester foam versions from a big box store. If you need a pillow of a particular firmness, bring your own, Stacy Moses advises. Apartment kitchenettes include appliances, but you might bring a coffeemaker, favorite mug, bowl and/or set of flatware. A rolling backpack will prevent sore muscles, says Adena Barnette. “This way you can haul your books, a printed copy of your course packet, your electronic device, and extra drinks and snacks to class each day.” The walk between the apartments and the classrooms takes about ten minutes at a leisurely pace, with another five minutes to swing by the dining hall for breakfast before or lunch afterwards. To take advantage of the excellent recreation center on campus, bring workout clothing or swimwear.

  4. Before your first residential course, you may want to come in a day early to find your way around campus, says Sara Wood Legate. (There is no extra charge for a Saturday afternoon arrival [between 3pm and 9pm] or for a Saturday morning departure [before 9 am]. Meal service begins with dinner Sunday; if you arrive before, you can use the kitchens in the residence halls or visit a local restaurant [see below]). Otherwise, there are plenty of friendly interns to point you in the right directions.

5. Once you register for a course, you’ll be given access to Blackboard, where the readings—course packs—are found. Download the course pack and print it out. Get it bound at an office supply store, or hole-punched to fit into a three-ring binder. You’ll be flipping back and forth between pages and documents during seminar discussions and when writing essays on the open-book exams. After you complete the course, an organized and bound set of documents will help you review for the qualifying exam or find sources for a thesis or capstone. You’ll also draw excerpts from many of the documents to use in your own classes. Don’t worry about the highlighting and annotations you add; clean copies of the documents are available for download at TeachingAmericanHistory.org.

6. Several students recommended buying one copy of key texts and using it repeatedly whenever it is assigned in coursework. Most professors specify the text they prefer, and this helps everyone in the class to find passages being discussed. Still, if you stick with one text, your notes will aggregate in the margins as you revisit it. Selections from one text in particular, The Federalist, appear repeatedly on course syllabi. Some professors prefer the Signet Classics edition (with an introduction by Charles Kesler); others, and many students, recommend the edition in the Online Library of Liberty (edited by George W. Carey and James McClellan and published by the Liberty Fund) as the most complete and authoritative.

During your time on campus:

1. Seminars are designed as collaborative discussions. “Ask your questions and give your feedback,” John Talley says. “When you speak, you help the whole room and advance the learning environment,” adds Wesley Hall. Meanwhile, “being engaged yourself by professors who know how to engage students” will help you learn how to pass that excitement onto your students at home, Kate Pitrone points out.

2. “Take advantage of the opportunity to talk with the amazing faculty and wonderful staff at the Ashbrook Center,” says Stacy Moses. Sitting down with professors at meals in the cafeteria or over coffee during the afternoon socials is “a great way to delve deeper into topics discussed in class,” says Kymberli Wregglesworth. Professors enjoy these interactions, and each of them “wants you to succeed and is there to help you reach your goals.”

3. The same advice applies to interactions with classmates. “Jump in with both feet!” says Moses. Students in the program often organize study sessions; “if you don't hear of one, create one!” After the professors, “Your classmates are the second best resource for preparing for your final assessment,” says Barnette.

[caption id="attachment_37760" align="alignright" width="500"] Study groups form easily during summer MAHG.[/caption]

4. As you make friends with fellow teachers, you’ll trade pedagogical ideas and learn about other professional development opportunities. “Make as many friendships and connections as possible with other classmates and professors, because they'll change your life,” says Nicole Keith. MAHG grads frequently speak of making “lifelong friendships” with colleagues they continue trading ideas with years later.

5. Josh Halpren advises those doing multiple weeks during a summer to “get into a routine that provides time for self-care. Use the awesome athletic facilities at Ashland, occasionally talk about non-history things at meals and get sleep. You need to be on most of the day in discussions and you don’t want to burn out.” Several grads recommend taking walks around “the beautiful Ashland campus” or at the nearby Freer Field trail, part of which takes you through shaded woods.

6. Coffee breaks fuel study. There is a snack bar open during the class periods on the ground floor of Dauch Hall, the classroom building MAHG uses. It has a simple menu of drip coffee, tea, soda and packaged snacks. Starbucks-style lattes and etc. are available in the snack bar on the ground floor of the Student Center. Just down College Avenue from Dauch, there is a privately owned coffee shop called Vines, with specialty drinks and the best scones you’ll ever eat. During the summers, it is open Thursdays and Saturdays from 8 am to 4 pm and Friday 8 am to 6 pm. At a further walk is Downtown Perk (145 Main Street), offering dessert and lunch items, open weekdays until 5 pm and Saturdays until 3 pm.

7. “Weave yourself into the fabric of Ashland. You get more out than you put in, but [first] you have to put in,” Talley says. “If you do multiple weeks, don't go home. Stay on campus to stay focused,” he adds. If you need a Saturday getaway, there are “plenty of presidents’ houses in Ohio to visit,” Rhonda Watton notes, along with sites on the Underground Railway and other places of historic note.

Tammy Hendershot sums it up: the MAHG program gives you not only a degree; it gives you “a community” with whom you learn to see the many connections between the American past and our present experience. This community will support you as you become a more knowledgeable and effective teacher. It may even, says Nilani Jawahar, give you the best inspiration your work could have: “a newfound love and appreciation for America.” 

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[torentialtribute]

JAMIE REDKNAPP: Kevin De Bruyne is Manchester City’s David Beckham… plus my team of the weekend

I was lucky enough to play and play alongside Steven Gerrard and David Beckham club and country train, and their crossing never ceased to amaze me. They can put the goal on a board for you the first time you ask.

It gives the opposition defense of the team to organize. It catches them cold instead of giving them a moment to prepare themselves.

Kevin De Bruyne assisted both Manchester City goals against Tottenham on Saturday

Stevie and Becks would not accept unnecessary touches, nor would Kevin De Bruyne. At the moment there is no better crosser of the ball than the 28 year old Belgian.

The way he gets it in a flash in Manchester City is like a sixth sense. That's what he did brilliantly against Tottenham.

Bernardo Silva cut the ball back to De Bruyne in the 20th minute. With one touch, he crossed the backpost for Raheem Sterling, who had crept in behind Kyle Walker-Peters to go home.

Subsequently, Silva again ran from Bruyne in the 35th minute. With one touch he drilled the ball into the feet of Sergio Aguero, who made it 2-1.

It sounds simple, but it is a skill in itself. He sees a teammate, finds him with a single touch, bang, goal.

Van Bruyne crosses the opener in the first half for Raheem Sterling home home

My old English teammate Beckham was the best I've ever seen when it came to crossing. He knew his strengths. He didn't have to beat a man – he was convinced to find space and create goals.

From the equivalent of Bruyne & # 39; s City. When you have someone like him, it makes your work as a striker so much easier. You know that if you burst into the empty space, he will find you. Sterling knew that on Saturday and so did Aguero.

It helps that he spent time on the wing in Genk, where he started his career. That helped him sharpen his crusades.

In 2016-17, De Bruyne was in fifth place in the Premier League due to the number of crossings. In 2017-18 he became fourth. His 2018-19 was curtailed by injury, but he has fired 15 in the current campaign so far, and two of them led to goals against Tottenham.

De Bruyne does that should not take a touch before the ball enters the box

It is frightening to think that City did what they did last season with De Bruyne only fit enough to play in 19 Premier League games . Imagine what they can do this year under Pep Guardiola if he stays fit.

I was in Etihad and by the end of this game, for the last 20 minutes or so, Bruyne looked a little tired. That suggests that he has more to offer as soon as he has more games under his belt.

He has collected three assists so far this season, and Thierry Henry & # 39; s 20 for Arsenal in 2002-03 continues to beat the record. Could he surpass that? You wouldn't bet against it.

If you like football, then you should like to watch from Bruyne.

The Belgian crosses for Sergio Aguero restore leadership on his part in the Premier League clash

What a performance by Dani Ceballos during his full debut in the Premier League.

Arsenal must already be tempted to ask Real Madrid how much it would cost to sign their borrower for a permanent deal.

Jurgen Klopp will be watching Arsenal's win over Burnley and noting that they have to stop Ceballos in Anfield next week. That will be a great test for the 23-year-old's ability.

Looking at Chelsea opposite Leicester, it felt like we were looking at the future of English football.

Mason Mount, 20, and James Maddison, 22, were the two best players on the field. They showed exactly what they were all doing, with their insistence and attack orientation.

If I were Gareth Southgate, I would love to see that in a big game.

Mason Mount celebrates after he had given Chelsea the lead against Leicester

Magic Mane would run into team

Sadio Mane makes a great case to be considered Liverpool's most important man over Mohamed Salah.

The 27-year-old produces magic on the field and runs in every team. He showed that against Southampton, scored a screamer and then set up Roberto Firmino to confirm the 2-1 win.

The statistics emphasize its impact.

No one has scored more Premier League goals than he did. in 2019. He brought his count on Saturday to 15, and none of them came from the penalty area.

Sadio Mane drives away in celebration after Liverpool Liverpool led against Southampton

In Liverpool & # 39; s last 30 games, Mane scored 20 goals, Salah scored 12 and Firmino eight.

It is three years since Mane made his league debut for Liverpool and scored the fourth goal in a 4-3 win at Arsenal. He is now performing as well as he ever did under Jurgen Klopp.

Fabrizio Ravanelli marked his Premier League debut for Middlesbrough in 1996 by scoring a hat-trick against Liverpool.

Teemu Pukki enjoys an equally deadly start to life in the top flight. All three of his finishes against Newcastle were impressive and he woke up on Sunday with the feeling that he belonged to this level.

Ravanelli closed the 1996-97 season with 16 goals for Boron. Let's see how much Pukki comes to Norwich.

[1945908] <img id = "i-fe90658af950800f" src = "https://ift.tt/2Z01Bxa -7369635-image-a-9_1566162309909.jpg "height =" 438 "width =" 634 "alt =" Teemu Pukki of Norwich City shoots to score the second goal of his team against Newcastle "=

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Teemu Pukki of Norwich City shoots to score the second goal of his team against Newcastle

I was sitting next to Ashley Cole on Stamford Bridge on Sunday when he was announced, live on television, withdrawing to play football.

I faced Ashley a few times and he gave you always have a kick! But what a player, the game has evolved with the modern full back that is expected to contribute both in attack and in defense. ey always led the way.

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[frugalapolis]

I know this sounds like a morbid topic, Death Cleaning but it's an important one. Its the process of freeing yourself and your family from a lifetime of clutter. This past year our beloved neighbor lady who treated my DH and I like her children, passed away. She had invited us to holiday meals with her family for the past twenty five years and we helped with small tasks around the house like taking out her garbage weekly. She lived a fabulous life and passed away peacefully in an afternoon nap. No pain or financial debt occurred which was a blessing.

However, the pain would come in the death cleaning of her lifetime home. When her husband died eight years ago, some things were given away to family, some things donated or sold second hand, and some things just thrown away. But the majority of their possessions remained in the home until she died.

The process of death cleaning in this particular home took less than 100 days due to the daily diligence of her daughter in law (DIL). The DIL already had experienced the death of her husband eleven years earlier, and performed a death cleaning there to move into a different home. I wasn't very involved in the death cleaning of the neighbors home, but we did help a little. We acquired the outside plants, one of which is the beautiful orchid pictured above, which is blooming now in November.

Seeing the process of the dismantling of a life history is sad. After her death, the family went through the house and tagged items they wanted with postit notes.  The DIL went through every cabinet and drawer and closet and organized like items together. Obvious junk was discarded in the trash. Furniture and clothing was donated or sold in an estate sale. Expensive items, antiques and collectables were sold on Facebook, Craigslist and Ebay by the DIL. I don't know if Charities were involved, but they will take household items and pick them up. Some photo memories were kept and stored with one of the family. I scanned over a hundred photos and shared w flash drive and online cloud account with the family members.  The automobile was over 20 years old and was sold for a small amount. The house had some code violations so it was sold undervalued to an investor.

I just read the book The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning and it makes me want to do a death cleaning next year. A death cleaning is something you can do many times in your life to help lessen the burden of your death on your family or executor. The guiding question to ask when Death Cleaning, it "Will anyone be happier if I save this"? Even if you think you will live many more years, it is never too soon to be prepared for death. If you are over 60, and don't live near family or grandkids, it is time for a death cleaning.

Here is a list of things you can do to help others deal with your demise after your death:

Create a document with a listing or flowchart of all your finances. Where do you have checking accounts, savings accounts, IRA's, savings bonds, investments, etc. Include a list of all your credit cards and which ones are used to autopay bills (cell phone, television, electric, utilities, car payment, Netflix, etc). List your employer ID, your 401K provider. This is a working document that you need to keep updated for the rest of your life. I suggest using Microsoft Excel and make it a spreadsheet.

Create a document with all your online accounts, your email signon and the password. At least do this for all accounts that have anything to do with money or subscriptions.  Include a list of all your email addresses, social media accounts, banking and vendors that have your credit cards. This also is a working document you need to keep updated. This one is helpful to keep on the cloud.

Create a Will or Trust, and Medical Directive, and designate a Power of Attorney. List your life insurance policies here too. Keep these where they can be found upon disabling injury, illness or death. Scan this to the cloud, but keep originals in a desk drawer, not locked up.

Designate a beneficiary for all your investments and note it on your finance document. These will not have to go through probate after your death. You can do this online for most accounts.

If you have joint finances with a partner, be sure they know where to start with closing accounts and gathering documents. Show them your finance and online account documents and ask if they understand it. If they are not able to operate a computer, agree on a friend or relative who can help with this.

Start with items stored in the closets, basement, garage, sheds, etc. Tell friends and family you're cleaning and getting rid of clutter in case they want anything you have. Even if you aren't ready to get rid of something now, you can tag it for them to get after you die.

Make a list of your personal items that have value or you know someone who would appreciate having them. If the item is in a drawer or box, create a tag and write "For XX upon my death" and affix it to the item. You could also take a picture of the item and assemble a document for item distribution upon your death. This could be an appendix to your Will.

If you have items that you haven't used in a couple of years, or since you last moved, or don't fit now - consider gifting, donating or selling them now. Why leave them for later when you're pretty sure you won't use them the rest of your life now. If you won't get rid of it now, and the item has value - at least take a nice photo of it to use in an ad to sell the item in the future.

If you have photograph prints, these can take a long time to determine what to do. I would suggest scanning the best memories to your cloud storage if you have a scanner. If not send them to the family members who would appreciate them. If they are of your vacation memories and you can't scan to cloud, your best option is to do nothing or trash now. They will get trashed upon your death.

If you never have guests eat at your home, and its just you and your partner - you can clean out your kitchen and pantry. Get rid of expired foods or items you no longer consume. You only need less than a dozen each of bowls, dishes, and coffee cups. Get rid of the fancy China set. Get rid of the gravy bowl. Get rid of the frying pans you no longer use that the nonstick is worn off anyway. Get rid of the roaster, crockpot, blender you never use.

If you have a pet, make plans for its care upon your death. Make a box where you keep all the pets vet information, medications, toys, personal care items and leashes and collars. In this box, have a document that outlines what to do with the pet upon your death.

[theliberaltony]

via FiveThirtyEight tells compelling data-driven stories about politics, sports and science.

This is the Trump Docket, where we track some of the most important legal cases of the Trump presidency and how their results could shape presidential power. Questions, comments, or thoughts about cases to cover? Email us here.

President Trump’s words have a habit of coming back to haunt him — particularly in courtrooms. His unfiltered public statements on Twitter and elsewhere have been a gift to the organizations and advocates fighting a range of controversial policy decisions like his proposal to ban most transgender people from serving in the military and the revocation of a temporary form of legal status for migrants who fled violence and natural disasters. Litigants have drawn on Trump’s comments to argue that the administration was driven by bigotry and prejudice, rather than legitimate national-security or other policy concerns. The administration contends, meanwhile, that normal procedures were followed and that the policy decisions that resulted were the product of thorough deliberations.

And this means that judges have to decide whether to take the administration’s explanation at face value without addressing whatever Trump has said — or to evaluate Trump’s comments as a crucial part of the story. This choice can make an enormous difference for whether a policy stands or falls.

Take Trump’s presidential order to temporarily restrict travel to the U.S. by people from a handful of countries, many of which are majority-Muslim. At first, lower courts struck down three successive versions of the order. In many of those rulings, judges relied on the president’s tweets and statements to conclude that the government’s national security rationale simply wasn’t convincing. But when the case made it to the Supreme Court, Chief Justice John Roberts took a very different tack. Roberts upheld the travel ban, and in his majority opinion, he acknowledged Trump’s comments about Muslims but ultimately concluded that Trump’s order was grounded in legitimate national-security concerns.

To some extent, this approach was expected. In cases involving immigration, foreign affairs and national security, courts commonly defer to the president’s authority when considering whether a particular action was valid. “What’s head-spinning about Trump is that there are a lot of cases where … there doesn’t seem to be a lot of room for doubt about his intentions,” said Richard Primus, a professor of constitutional law at the University of Michigan.

In the past, presidents might have had all kinds of ulterior motives for pursuing or supporting a particular policy, but they didn’t say them at news conferences or on TV. “Until now, the executive branch has been kind of a black box,” said Josh Blackman, a professor at South Texas College of Law. “Trump is giving courts all kinds of insights that they might not have had in the past.”

And it’s not necessarily clear what courts are supposed to do with those insights. In my conversation with Primus, he seemed skeptical that the Supreme Court would start probing Trump’s motives in future cases. “I think they will continue to insist on acting like they don’t know the president’s motivating attitudes,” he said. If the court were to deviate from its typical practice in response to Trump’s unusual behavior, it could create an awkward situation if the next president is more traditional — does the court revert to its previous practice or stick with the new approach? But staying the course has risks, Primus said — ignoring a president’s motivation could lead to abuses of power in the present and the future.

The travel ban ruling now hangs over cases currently unfolding in the lower courts over DACA (a program originally created by President Obama that protects young undocumented immigrants from deportation), the status of immigrants from Haiti and other countries, and the restrictions on transgender servicemembers. In each, Trump’s tweets or statements are being used as evidence of discriminatory intent by the administration. And the administration’s opponents are arguing that the government’s actions were illegal in at least one of two ways: They violated the procedures set forth for administrative agencies, including a requirement that decision-making not be “arbitrary” or “capricious,” or they violated the constitutional rights of the people who were affected.1

So far, lower court judges have seemed open to these arguments, but it’s still early in the process. In one lawsuit related to the status of Haitian immigrants who fled to the U.S. after a 2010 earthquake, a judge issued an injunction last fall preventing the Trump administration from terminating the immigrants’ legal status. In the ruling, the judge cited something Trump reportedly said in a meeting about a year ago suggesting that the U.S. might be better off prioritizing immigrants from Norway over migrants from “shithole countries” like Haiti, El Salvador and Nigeria. He said that comment, along with another instance in which Trump reportedly said that 15,000 recent immigrants from Haiti “all have AIDS,” raised “serious questions” about whether the administration’s decision “was influenced by the White House and based on animus against non-white, non-European immigrants in violation of Equal Protection guaranteed by the Constitution.”

But whether one of these cases will prompt the Supreme Court to be clearer about when — and how — a president’s statements, and what they might suggest about his motivations, are relevant for the courts remains a big question. Nearly all the legal experts I spoke with emphasized that there are good reasons for courts to refrain from frequently probing the executive branch’s motives — including the fact that they’re often ruling on highly technical questions where administration officials, not judges, are the experts. And questioning presidential motives on a more routine basis could lead judges into situations where they appear to be making political decisions. “The risk here is that the courts become too involved in political debates,” said Gillian Metzger, a law professor at Columbia University.

And so in the meantime, the judges puzzling through these issues in their courtrooms may find themselves stuck between a rock and a hard place, grappling with a question that Trump’s presidency has posed in many different ways: How should the legal system respond to a norm-shattering president? On the one hand, they’re in a position of significant power, with the ability to question what Trump is doing and why. But their responses to Trump could also change the fragile balance of power between the courts and the president in ways that are very difficult to predict.

Other cases

Pre-presidency Trump

Roger Stone, a Republican strategist and longtime adviser to Trump, was indicted last month by special counsel Robert Mueller’s team; Stone is accused of a variety of crimes related to his alleged attempt to cover up communications with WikiLeaks during the 2016 campaign. Stone pleaded not guilty to the charges, which include witness tampering, making false statements and obstructing an official proceeding.

A judge postponed the sentencing of former Trump campaign chairman Paul Manafort in a Virginia court, where he was convicted last year on eight financial and banking fraud charges, because of an ongoing conflict over whether he breached his plea agreement in a separate case by lying to Mueller. A federal judge in Washington, D.C., scheduled a closed hearing on the plea agreement today.

A lawsuit filed last year accusing Trump, his three eldest children and his company of using the Trump brand to entice vulnerable people into a fraudulent business deal was updated to include new allegations, including a claim that the Trumps profited from a marketing scheme aimed at teenagers.

The Trump administration

In a 5-4 vote, the Supreme Court lifted two injunctions that lower courts had placed on the Trump administration’s ban on most transgender servicemembers, likely allowing the policy to go into effect while challenges to the policy make their way through the courts.

The Supreme Court declined to take action on cases involving the Trump administration’s efforts to rescind the DACA program, which likely means that the policy will stay in place at least until next fall, when the court’s next term begins. These cases are continuing to move through the lower courts; last month, the 2nd U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals heard oral arguments in a DACA-related case.

After a federal judge in New York ruled against the Trump administration’s effort to add a citizenship question to the 2020 census without relying on a contested deposition from Commerce Secretary Wilbur Ross, the Supreme Court removed from its docket a case over whether the deposition could be introduced as evidence. However, the court could still hear a case this term that involves broader issues surrounding the addition of a citizenship question to the census. Lawyers for the government asked the court to decide the case before June, when the census forms are scheduled to go to print. Several cases involving the question are still unfolding in the lower courts, including a lawsuit in Maryland whose trial concluded last month.