#is what i would say but he's currently pending review

[crescentfool]

yosuke fire.gif for your needs

[the-switch-conspiracy]

[Prev]

Intermission: The Perils Of Not Reading the User Manual!

[User 0001 has a new tutorial mission available. Would you like to access it? ^(@w@)^]

Shang Qinghua’s hand stilled from where it was shoved in his bowl of sunflower seeds. He’d been in the midst of a 3-hour paperwork binge, sorting requisitions that should have been handed in weeks ago - But noooo, prove you can do your job well, and what do you get rewarded with? More work! - When the system message flashed in front of him. Rather than its usual white text on cool blue, the letters were pulsing a soft warm yellow, and the screen seemed almost more teal… System did you update?! And what’s this about tutorial missions!

“What do you mean a new tutorial mission? You’ve never given me a tutorial mission before!” The seed shells crack in his grasp, tutorial missions? Ha! As if his system would give him something so helpful! B-points, plot adherence, what else is there?! Besides he literally grew up here, what more was there to learn!

[User 0001 is incorrect. This SYSTEM informed User at transmigration of pending tutorial missions. User responded -ahhhhgrawwahhhaaaah- and quite vigorously hit this SYSTEM’S mute button (o///o)]

BS! Not fair! This transmigrator was a baby! How could this one be expected to accept in that state?

[Further more, this SYSTEM has assigned multiple additional tutorial missions on review of User 0001’s activity. Due to User muting tutorial messages, this SYSTEM helpfully made them accessible through the System User Manual! (>OuO)>]

!!!! @$%* !!!! “A system user manual? And what is in said manual?” Shang Qinghua was sure his current face would even give the scum villain Shen Qingqiu pause. Grit teeth was an understatement, and Mu Qingfang would no doubt have much to say about the current clench of his jaw. Pulling all-nighters wasn’t easy, and the system playing him for a fool only made the no doubt impending migraine worse! He’s already been distracted from his signing of… what was it, ah yes more training swords for the Bai Zhan disciples! Of course it was Bai Zhan! Liu Shidi control your brats! Though he was sure he’d filled out this exact form hours ago! How many did you send??

[User could access:]

A secondary window popped up next to the first. It was a dull grey contrasting the bright teal of the first, its letters uniform and blocky, it’s text to speech voice less refined in its intonation. Unsurprisingly, it gave Shang Qinghua the creeps. It was the Windows 2000, to the system’s usual Windows XP!

{Information about preventing plot inconsistency! Information about disabling OOC lock! Information about unlocking the skill tree! Information about Author Permissions of the World State in Current P̷̧͆͋̌Ĩ̵̩͖̜̱̮̓̍̏̾̃͐̚Ḑ̷̩͔͕̑̏̽̔̐̓̎̅̇̓͆͝͝Ẅ̴̗̙̝͙̣̺̼̭̫́̉͑̄̓͆̅ ̸̧̼̞͔̼̳̖̮͙͍̳̥̩̜̇̿͗̏̽̇̽̀͘͜Ḯ̴͕̲̗̫̩̩͍̙̠͕̌̐̉͆́͒̂̚͜͝͝͝͝͝Ṋ̸̡̡̢̡̦̮̀̀̿͛͒̆͗S̷̨̧̛̞̞̹͒̋̒̃T̴̢̫͇̗̜̦̟̎̂̍̇̀̀̄̑͆̽͜A̵̢̡̢͖̤̩̯̗̟͇̝̹̦̓̀͛̃͋̑̇͘N̴̹̺͐̐̃͊́̋̄̅̆͑̀̃̃͋C̴̡̨̧͈̠͓̜͍͕̺͖͈̬̄̎̎͋̏̈́͗͜͝͠É̶̞͓͒͊͌̉ ̵̡̘͖̱̺̫̤̤̬̮͈̈́́̀̿͗̈́̎̍͜ͅS̸̢̫̳͕̱̰̹̲̪̠͕͉͔̓̅̓̅́̆̈́̌̔̑̕͜͝V̷̢̡̫̣̠̩̣̮̮��̙̝̺̑͑̏̀͋̈̾̂͗͊͆̓͛͜͝͠S̴̳̣̭̐̀S̴̢͖̼̱͕͍̣͈͓̝̬̟̾̃̊̀̏̏̔̒͊̌̓̕ͅŜ̶̳͎̣̯̼́͑͂́͒͛́͠ ̵̞̱̜̫̻̘̩̜̓̐͌͜ͅ0̸̻̦̬̲̞̣̯̈́̋̑͗͊͗̈̉͋̿͑̚͘͜͝͠.̶̛̰͕̠̫͚͓̱̦̊̍̿͝2̴̨̡͙̙̲̫̺̹͎̱̣̟̓́̏͌̅̾͌̐̄̚!} A loud buzzing, crackling emanated from the screen, the final words so badly distorted they were unreadable to him. A peculiar sense of dread engulfed him, like he’d looked upon something not meant for human eyes. The window popped shut with a static hum.

“So uh, picked up any malware lately?” It was said with the all the dread that only a man facing his imminent demise could scrounge up! Completely ignoring him, the system continued.

[Tutorial Missions Available:

(Completed) Transmigrated and All I Got was Anxiety! Reward: Mellowdust Prescription, User Name Change.

(Tutorial) Welcome to your Authorial Debut! Reward: 500 B-points.

(Main) The Frozen North. Reward: Always Warm Socks.

Two of a Kind! Reward: System Chat. (Currently Unavailable)

(Tutorial) What is a Self Saving System? Reward: Disabled OOC Lock. (Alternative Route Chosen)

(Tutorial) System Archival Update Tutorial. Reward: A Cool Cape, ARCHIVAL Glasses.

NEW QUEST! (Main) The Archivist Assistant! Reward: Access to the ARCHIVIST, Access to the ARCHIVES.

NEW QUEST! (Main) A bug is a bug i̷̪̩̕š̸̢̳̜̣̻͓̖͚͕͕͉̜̖̼̄͗͛͑̋̓̀̉̀͝ ̸̢̱̥̬̙̞̭̞̹̫͜͝ã̸̡̻͊̇̄̍̆͑̔̏̇ ̷̨̳̱̼̹̙̺̙͙̖̞̫̥͍̄́͗̄̃̕b̸̤͇̼̘̭̉̆̈́̃̀̒̈́͛u̸̻̥͍͎̦̅̈̐̀̈̋͐̈́́̿͝g̶̦̹̬̞͍̗͉̀ͅ. Reward: 10 000 F-points.]

“What the hell are these rewards, and what the hell are F-points?” Shang Qinghua has lived most of his new life in fear, it truly is an old friend in that one regard. Ever present; the fear of being found out a traitor, the fear of dying to Mobei-Jun, the fear of not having enough B-points and simply boop, gone, back to a carcass. It’s exhausting, it’s constant, every win and point and eked out bit of happiness danced tumultuously on a wire, hanging thousands of feet above the clouds. One beat out of tune, one misstep, the sudden slack of the wire… no Shang Qinghua.

Now a new fear made manifest; the system is acting strange. The system that arbitrarily decides whether he’s here or not, isn’t behaving the way it should. Archives? F Points! Tutorials? It felt wrong, out of place, like looking at one of those ‘guess the difference’ puzzle games, and realising the picture is of your childhood room taken from the closet door. Or something like that. Maybe he should go back more towards ‘heaving flesh more pebbled than the path they trekked to get there’ type metaphors..? Or perhaps back to filling in the requisitions for… Thousand Night Honey for Qian Cao Peak, Mu Shidi that stuff isn’t so easily bought! Hmm, wasn’t this form…?

[F-points are a new reward point type for specific missions! Like B-points for being a bad-ass, Satisfaction points for helping others, F-points are Fix-Points. They can be used to bring stability to plot changes and purchase helpful items you can’t get from the B-point shop! As for the rewards, well User 0001 only needs to complete the mission to find out! (>///<)]

Stability to plot changes? So, he can change things… But why now? Was it the update, or something else? This bad feeling inside… the more he thinks about it, it only grows stronger. His eyes flick to the corner of the room, the shadows on the wall. A perfect copy cast from the potted plant in front of it, only slightly hazy at the edges. His eyes flick again, to the light coming through the window. It’s morning, the sun having only risen four hours before, yet the dawn casts gentle rays through the gauze. Dust moats float silver in the soft gold.

[Shang Qinghua has one more mission available. Would you like to access it?]

That window faces the west.

[NEW QUEST! (Main) Save the World!]

[Next]

[afterplaidshirtdays]

An update as of this morning. They have halted the execution!

Copy/paste of the article:

House members were successful in halting the execution of Texas death row inmate Robert Roberson III. The Supreme Court of Texas granted a stay late Thursday night.

"We are deeply grateful to the Texas Supreme Court for respecting the role of the Texas legislature in such consequential matters. We look forward to welcoming Robert to the Texas Capitol, and long with 31 million Texans, finally giving him -- and the truth -- a chance to be heard," Texas House Criminal Jurisprudence Committee chairmen Joe Moody and Jeff Leach said in a joint statement Thursday night.

Roberson was scheduled to be executed by lethal injection at about 6 p.m. Thursday, for the 2002 death of his 2-year-old daughter.

The state's legal fight to get the execution carried out faced a midnight CDT deadline when the death warrant authorizing Roberson's execution expired.

The Texas Department of Criminal Justice said late Thursday night that Roberson will be moved back to the Polunsky Unit in Livingston, Texas.

"I had the opportunity to go back there to speak with him, and he was shocked to say the least. He praised God, to thank his supporters," said Amanda Hernandez with the TDCJ.

Roberson was convicted in 2003 of shaking his daughter, Nikki Curtis, to death in a diagnosis known as shaken baby syndrome. Roberson's attorneys said new evidence suggests that's not what killed the little girl and that his life should be spared.

The stay came after a flurry of legal proceedings Thursday and the Supreme Court of the United States denying a stay for Roberson. The high court said it would be up to Gov. Greg Abbott to stop the execution with a 30-day stay.

TEMPORARY RESTRAINING ORDER FILED IN ATTEMPT TO HALT EXECUTION

On Wednesday, the Texas Board of Paroles and Pardons declined to recommend clemency, and Texas Gov. Greg Abbott cannot grant it without that recommendation. Abbott could still issue a one-time 30-day stay of execution, and while he's been active on social media Thursday, he's been silent about the upcoming execution.

In a daylong hearing Wednesday, the Texas House Committee on Criminal Jurisprudence unanimously passed a motion to subpoena Roberson after hours of testimony from experts who recently reviewed his 2003 conviction. The committee found relevant scientific evidence is available today that was not available at the time of Roberson's trial that would be admissible under current rules.

But the subpoena alone was not enough to stop the execution. House members on the committee filed a temporary restraining order on Thursday attempting to prevent the Texas Department of Criminal Justice from proceeding with the execution until the subpoena can be carried out and Roberson testifies in a hearing next week. A district judge granted that TRO.

TEXAS ATTORNEY GENERAL'S OFFICE APPEALS TRO

The Texas Attorney General's Office appealed the TRO immediately.

Late Thursday, the state's highest criminal court overruled a Travis County judge's TRO.

NBC 5 has asked the TDCJ whether the execution is delayed pending that appeal, and it indicated the execution is delayed pending the outcome of legal proceedings.

LAWMAKERS APPEAL TO TEXAS SUPREME COURT

Thursday night the same lawmakers who filed the subpoena and the TRO took their appeal to the Supreme Court of Texas.

"Our current pleading in front of the Texas Supreme Court is truly the last chance to push a pause on his execution," Rep. Jeff Leach, R-Plano told NBC 5 Thursday night.

Leach indicated the execution couldn't proceed until there was a ruling on the appeal.

"It's unbelievable that we're at this point, given the unprecedented hearings that we saw yesterday take place in the Texas legislature, given the widespread bipartisan support, and just really overwhelming support from so many people coming forward, recognizing that this is such a problematic case that Robert has a strong claim of innocence, and if this execution goes forward, Texas is going to be executing a man for a crime that never occurred,” said Vanessa Potkin, director of special litigation for the Innocence Project on Thursday. “Mr. Roberson is a man of deep faith. He has sustained himself through his faith prayer and he is just so moved by the overwhelming support.”

SUPREME COURT REFUSES TO WEIGH IN ON CASE

Meanwhile, on Thursday, the United States Supreme Court said despite saying credible evidence of his innocence has been raised it could not grant a stay in the case. Justice Sonia Sotomayor said that Roberson's only avenue for a reprieve was with the governor, who had the authority to grant pardons and delay executions.

"An executive reprieve of 30 days would provide the Texas Board of Pardons and Paroles with an opportunity to reconsider the evidence of Roberson’s actual innocence. That could prevent a miscarriage of justice from occurring: executing a man who has raised credible evidence of actual innocence," Sotomayor wrote.

If the execution is carried out, Roberson would be the first person in the United States executed for a murder conviction tied to a diagnosis of shaken baby syndrome.

I’m not going to do one of those “REBLOG OR YOU’RE A HORRIBLE PERSON!!!!!!1!” posts, but please, if you have the time, read about Robert Roberson.

Neurodivergent people, we especially need to pay attention to this. This is a man who was sent to death row because he appeared too “stoic”. He was formally diagnosed with autism after. I’m sure you already know that this is only one part of a larger pattern of flaws. Fellow victims of the US’ crap legal system, we need to say something. I don’t care if you think it won’t work, we still have to give them hell. They may have power, but they need to know damn well we won’t sit by and let people die.

Greg Abbott’s number (yes, of course it’s Texas) is 361-264-9653. Give him a call if you have the time. If calls freak you out, text. If you don’t want to do that, sign the petition. You have the chance to change history right now.

Most importantly, take care of yourself. All this tragedy drains the soul, especially when it hits close to home. After you’re done with this post, drink some water and watch something nice or, better yet, step away from the screen for a bit. You deserve it and more.

[pegasus-ghost]

Hey again.

It's been a while.

Some stuff happened.

I tendered my resignation and currently serving my notice period.

Yeah.

No, not because of negative reasons. It's actually for the better.

For the past 2 to 3 months, I opened my LinkedIn profile again to update some stuff and clear my inbox after not checking in for a while. There, I found several emails from recruiters headhunting me for the position I'm currently working as.

Didn't think much of it and I didn't think I would be of any interest to these people once they talked to me. Decided to entertain some of their messages and gave it a shot.

But, whoa.

So apparently, after talking to the recruiters and went for their interviews (which I didn't even TRY to impress, to be honest. Didn't even dress up. I just wore my hoodie and did those interview online.), I eventually received THREE offers from big-named companies in my country. All of those companies are public listed and well-known.

I was... Shocked. Surprised. Slightly overwhelmed even. I wasn't ready to leave my job at the time. I just attended the interview just because I was bored and thought, "Ah, what harm would it do? It's not like they'll offer me or anything."

Well, yeah. Turns out that Allah had better plans for me. I gave it some reflection and realized that apparently Allah seemed to have decided for me that it's the best time for me to make a move to a different environment in my life instead of sticking with the same old routine at my current job.

I was grateful, Alhamdulillah! And I have full trust and faith in His plans. If He is giving me signs that I should make a move in my career (to the point of generously giving me 3 offers from 3 famous companies, mind you!), then who am I to say no? Allah's plans are extremely, and I mean it, EXTREMELY precise and SUPERB to the MINUTE DETAIL. He literally creates stars and galaxies and black holes which is a billion times larger and more powerful. If Allah decides I should switch my career, I'll listen to Allah and trust in His plans for me.

There's a funny story to this tho. Well, no, not like 'funny' in particular. What I meant is, impressive. Extremely impressive and heartwarming.

So, when I received the offers from all three companies, I was nervous, anxious and overwhelmed at first, right. I didn't even expect to receive a second interview, let alone an offer. I was and am super comfortable with my current job. I have a great, understanding and supportive manager, great colleagues, flexible working environment which allows me to work from home full time. I'm also okay with the salary, I don't complain. So when I got the offers, I... Uh... Rejected them at first.

I rejected two of them, to be specific. The other offer (which was initially the company I wanted to join comparing to the other two and was my first choice) turned out to be pending. They said they were considering me at first, but later found out that I lacked the skill they needed for their projects and they were concerned on that, as it seems that they're not planning to send me for training I think. So I told them I withdrew from the application since they're taking too long and I already have two offers pending which I needed to answer to ASAP.

I didn't like the other two companies. Well, as for the first company, I was turned off IMMEDIATELY when their HR told me over the phone verbally that there's an 'over-time' rate for me. I went to Glassdoor to check on their reviews and found out that a lot of employees complained the company pushed them to their limits, workload was huge that they constantly had to work overtime and on weekends. I even asked the HR to send me the offer via email at least so I have a black and white documented proof that I have an offer pending with their company but they refused to provide me any documents for proof, or a contract, until I confirmed that I have tendered my resignation. Also, I thought that their office was nearby at first, hence why I entertained the interview in the first place. Then they suddenly changed their mind and said their office is located an hour away from me. Hence I rejected their offer with an excuse that the location is too far. But their HR came back to me, persuaded me not to reject due to location, and managed to confirm with the hiring manager to allow me to work at the second office which was nearer to me.

As for the second company, I didn't like the vibes the hiring manager gave off when he was interviewing me at first. He asked and drilled me SO MANY technical questions! I tried my best answering them to the best of my knowledge, but I wasn't like, a pro or anything, so there's a few of his questions that I think I got wrong, and had to literally told him I don't know the answer to that. He made me feel stupid tho, and I was a bit intimidated, thinking he might be strict. I asked him how his management style was and he said he didn't like to repeat himself. Not to mention that the location of the second company was significantly far from me (17km, 30 minutes on a good day, 1 hour plus with traffic, and I have to drive there, plus with tolls, instead of taking the public transport). Well, then. That's a no, so I immediately told the recruiter I reject the offer. But the recruiter instantly called me and persuaded me not to reject the offer yet, and allow him to arrange a chat between me and the managers there to 'discuss'.

I wasn't desperate to leave my job so I rejected them all at first. But after the first company said the office is nearer my place, I kinda gave them hope and told them I'm interested in joining, and asked them to give me time until the following week to tender my resignation because my manager was away for two weeks.

But while I was waiting for the day to come, I suddenly felt unease. Changing jobs is a BIG life changing decision. Was I really sure that I wanted to accept the first company's offer after reading the reviews on the overtime? plus, the HR is being sus with not providing me the contract or at least an email to confirm that I have an offer with them.

So for the first time in my life, I turned to Allah and prayed to him to ask for His decision for me. I studied how to perform the salah and did it, crying, asking and begging for Him to show me the right path and decision I should make, whether I should choose the first, second company, or stay with my current one. I begged him to show me signs and convince me on the right decision that is best for me, because after all, Allah knows best for His servants.

Then, something amazing happened.

Just mere minutes after I was done with the prayer, as I was laying on bed and getting ready for sleep, I suddenly felt a strong urge and conviction to go for the second company's offer (despite me already saying yes to the first company's offer at the time). My heart was suddenly comforted with the idea of joining the second company.

Strange. The second company was the first choice I rejected. Out of all three offers, that company was on the bottom list because of the first impression I got from the manager through the interview, plus with the distance. But I knew this feeling came from Allah. Allah was trying to tell me something.

So I googled for a while to check out parking spaces nearby the office and the fees (because I had concern on the fees too, if it's costing me too much).

What do ya know?

I found out that the office was located right behind this one BIG shopping mall, and the parking fees, rated hourly, will only cost me 10 bucks max per day if I were to park for 11 hours. Also, I only need to come to office for 3 days. So that's like 30 bucks per week top.

Then I searched their reviews in Glassdoor. I was dumbfounded when I realized then and there that I rejected that company so early in the process that I didn't even bother looking up their company reviews in Glassdoor. And when I finally did, it turns out that they have the HIGHEST approval rating comparing to the other two companies, with most of them stating the company gave great flexibility when it comes to work.

You have no idea how IMPRESSED I felt at the time, when I realized how Allah is literally ACTIVELY trying to help me and show me that the second company was BEST for me.

And I broke down in tears immediately after that.

I felt... Touched, heart warming, knowing and seeing first hand the help Allah gave me, the signs Allah instantly showed me after my prayer to Him. I have always felt so undeserving of Allah's attention, since I wasn't that religious. I didn't think Allah would care of a nobody like me to respond to my requests.

But He DID.

And I have never felt so... LOVED. So APPRECIATED, by the ALL MIGHTY.

Like... This is literally THE one GOD who creates the world, the stars, galaxies, all living beings, the heaven and earth, who parted the seas for Moses, who is ALL POWERFUL. The Kings of all Kings! Like, if there's the highest boss and power in this entire existence, it's literally JUST ALLAH.

And Allah, this very same ALLAH, listened to me and proved to me that He was indeed listening, and He indeed cared for me, and I wasn't a nobody to Him. He freaking listened to me and answered by prayers and gave me clear signs just mere minutes after my prayer.

Man, I'm even crying when I'm writing this, recalling that moment. That was one of the most... Beautiful moment I had with Allah. That will be my core memory forever.

To first-hand witness and see the clear signs how He actually loved and cared for a nobody like me who sins, who isn't perfect, who isn't one of the pious. I don't deserve help from people, let alone from the ALL MIGHT KING OF KINGS.

But Allah.

Allah didn't think that way about me.

He has apparently been listening. I just never paid attention all these while how He was always there for me.

The feeling is unreal, that it felt surreal.

I didn't deserve this help. But Allah, the King of Kings, the Almighty being who literally created me and billions others...

Paid attention to my stupid, insignificant request, and showed how much He loves me.

I freaking sobbed.

The very next day, I attended the chat session the recruiter arranged for me to talk to the managers from the second company. So I asked them some stuff about the system they have and other things.

It turns out that I was the one in the wrong and had misunderstood them. The managers were actually very supportive and doesn't micromanage. They explained and clarified to me on how the team works over there.

I ended the chat, feeling even more convinced of Allah's signs He gave me about choosing the second company's offer being the best for me. It was seriously freaking amazing, to witness how Allah responded with the signs, and to know that, here it is, the ALMIGHTY BEING who is the Creator of Worlds, convincing me that this company is the best for me. He has great plans for my future with this company and He is the best of planners, and all Allah cares about is to help His servants get to heaven. If He convinces me that the second company is the right choice, I am 1000% down with that and trust in all of His plans.

I felt so comforted, thinking, "Zach, don't worry. You're going to be in a new place, environment, new people, unfamiliar territory, but know that Allah is always watching you and He is going to keep you company and help you through your journey."

When I tendered my resignation, my best friend in the office asked me what made me choose the second company when I clearly ranted to him about how I rejected them at first.

So I told him about how I did my prayer, and the signs Allah gave me right after that, convincing me and my heart that it was the best choice for me. But he was still kinda skeptical, because he then asked me, "How do you know for sure it was a sign from god?"

I didn't know how to answer him.

I just KNOW. That feeling came (on my heart being set to choose the second company) and it's weird because it was the opposite from my initial choice. That feeling didn't come from human logic. It just suddenly... Knocked into my heart and mind, which made me look up why it was a better option. And Allah showed me why.

It's difficult to explain something like this to a person who don't believe in Allah. When I tried explaining to him, I can tell from his expression that he thought I was delusional and crazy.

It was the exact reaction prophet Muhammad pbuh received when he revealed Allah's revelations to mankind.

Regardless, I will trust Allah with all my heart.

I want to be on Allah's good side. Even when I sin and realized it, whether it be on purpose or by accident, I will always turn back to Allah and apologize to Him repeatedly.

Because I'm fully trusting of His nature being Most Forgiving and Most Loving, especially after numerous signs He showed me on how He took care of me and responded to my requests.

I will never give up on Allah's love. I will ALWAYS turn to Allah no matter what and will ALWAYS do my best to be on His good side as often as I possibly can, and apologize for everything as often as I can.

Sigh. Alhamdullillah, I can't thank Allah enough for saving my faith and restoring it. I seriously can't. I don't deserve any of Allah's love for me at all. The best I can do to show my appreciation is to do what He asked of humanity and guard myself from sinning.

Thank you Allah. From the bottom of my heart, from the deepest, bottomest part of my heart, most sincerely.

Thank you Allah.

[karen-anti-r-cml]

November 13, 2022: University of Virginia lost 3 Young Men, Football Players they were Shot and Murdered on Campus. The last 24 hours have felt like a nightmare for UVA the entire Football Team and Campus. 

“I’m ready for somebody to pinch me and wake me up and say this didn’t happen,”  Tony Elliott, Virginia Head Coach

D’Sean Perry: Perry was “very, very artistic, could draw, could shape pots with clay, loved music, very cultured and well-rounded. Just a great teammate and had a sense of humor that was one of a kind that only D’Sean could have.”  Elliott

Devin Chandler: “Devin was what you wanted in a young person that’s at this level but he was just a big kid. The thing I remember about him is he always brought a smile to my face, because he just was happy with where he was, comfortable in his skin, and had a very bubbly personality.”  Elliott

Lavel Davis Jr: “Big smile, lights up the room, and most people would say because he’s the tallest guy in the room but just his presence, he’s got a gentleness about him, but he’s passionate about what he believes in,” Elliott 

“2 others were wounded, 1 is critical and one in good condition” per Brian Coy, UVA Spokesperson

Mike Hollins Jr. is 1 of the wounded and is intubated, but in stable condition. “We’re lucky Michael was spared but we’re still grieving for the three families that cannot say the same. Our heart aches for them. That was my brother’s brothers.”  Ebony Hollins-Allen, Mike Jr’s Sister

The other man wounded was discharged from UVA Medical Center, but currently his name and condition is not being released. per Eric Swenson, UVA Health Spokesperson 

After the Shooting christopher darnell jones jr., the killer ran prompting an hours long manhunt as Students went into lock down in dorms, classrooms and libraries

November 15, 2022: jones jr. was arrested. At this this time he has not given a motive and Police have not found one

jones was already the subject of a pending case with the University’s Judicial Council. Coy, UVA

September 15, 2022 While reviewing a potential hazing issue, UVA Student Affairs heard from a Student that jones made a comment to him about possessing a gun,” Coy, UVA 

“In the course of their investigation, University officials spoke with jones’ roommate, who gave no indication of the presence of any weapons.” However they “did discovere in 2021 jones was tried and convicted of a misdemeanor concealed weapons violation, he received a 12-month suspended sentence and a small fine.” Coy, UVA  

Throughout the investigation “Mr. Jones repeatedly refused to cooperate with University Officials who were seeking additional information about the claims he had a firearm and about his failure to disclose the previous misdemeanor conviction.” Coy, UVA  

October 27, 2022 “the Threat Assessment Team escalated his case for disciplinary action,” Coy, UVA  

The killings are among at least 68 shootings so far in 2022 at US School, including 15 on College Campuses and is among some 600 US Mass Shootings so far in 2022, in which at least 4 People were shot

“ University of Virginia football team is uniting in grief as players and staff process tragedy after fatal shooting, coach and AD say” https://www.cnn.com/2022/11/15/us/university-of-virginia-shooting-tuesday/index.html

“ A gifted football player who was always trying to make people around him happy died in the UVA shooting. These are the victims” https://www.cnn.com/2022/11/14/us/uva-shooting-victims

[lastsonlost]

Even with a grain of salt,

what the ever loving holy fuck!

A 16-year-old boy being held at a Los Angeles County juvenile hall developed enlarged breasts after he was prescribed estrogen to treat a behavioral disorder, a move that baffled doctors who said the treatment defied medical logic, according to a lawsuit filed last month.

The teen, whose identity is being withheld because of his age, was diagnosed with oppositional defiant disorder, or ODD, two days after he was arrested and housed at Eastlake Juvenile Hall in June 2019, the lawsuit said. Medical records reviewed by The Times show that the teen’s testosterone levels were “slightly high” when the doctor who diagnosed him prescribed daily doses of estrogen.

Estrogen regulates the development of female sexual characteristics and reproduction. Men produce the hormone at much lower levels.

After taking approximately 13 daily doses of the hormone, the teen was diagnosed with gynecomastia, defined as the enlargement or swelling of breast tissue in males whose estrogen level is too high, medical records show.

ODD, a behavioral condition that is sometimes suffered by patients with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, is normally treated with therapy, said James McGough, a professor of clinical psychiatry at UCLA.

“Estrogen is not a treatment for ODD. I can’t be more emphatic about that,” McGough said. “You won’t find a reference anywhere that supports the use of estrogen for ODD.”

The lawsuit described the treatment as “experimental.” The doctor who prescribed the estrogen, Danny Wang, could not be reached for comment.

Los Angeles County’s juvenile detention facilities are overseen by the Probation Department. Medical needs are provided by Juvenile Court Health Services, which falls under the county Department of Health Services. In an e-mail, a Department of Health Services representative confirmed that Wang has been employed by the county since 2012 but declined to comment on his current status with the agency, describing it as a “confidential personnel matter.” The department declined to comment on the lawsuit.

The suit — which names as defendants the county, Wang and David Oh, medical director of Juvenile Court Health Services — alleges medical battery and negligence

Probation officials and the teen’s attorney, Wesley Ouchi, declined to say why he was in custody. Ouchi said the boy, now 17, was released in April and will require surgery to treat the physical issues he developed as a result of the estrogen treatment.

Wang prescribed a daily regimen of 2 milligrams of estrogen to be taken in pill form, according to medical records. The boy’s parents were not aware that he had been diagnosed with ODD or was undergoing treatment until late July 2019. Doctors said the treatments should not have been carried out without the parents’ consent.

The boy’s father, who spoke on the condition of anonymity to protect his son’s identity, said he found out about the estrogen pills when he visited the juvenile hall one weekend last July.

“When I found out they were giving him the pill, I was like, why didn’t they ask me? When I found out what kind of pill was it, I was like, this is terrible,” the father said. “He’s only 16, and they were forcing him to take it.”

The father said he later confronted Oh, the medical director, over the phone. Oh admitted that Wang had made “a mistake,” the father said. The health services representative declined to comment on Oh’s alleged remark due to the ongoing litigation.

The treatments stopped last July, after the teen began to complain of negative side effects and refused medication, records show. Prior to that, Ouchi said, his client felt compelled to take the pills because he feared that disobeying Wang would have a detrimental effect on his pending criminal case.

Reports from probation officers about a youth’s time in custody can carry significant weight at sentencing hearings, and the teen’s case had not been adjudicated at the time Wang prescribed him the estrogen, Ouchi said.

Ouchi also alleges the boy was bullied by other youths in custody once his gynecomastia symptoms developed.

“As a teenager, he felt self-conscious already,” Ouchi said. “Going through these changes made it a lot more traumatic for him.”

Sara Coffey, director of child and adolescent psychiatry at Oklahoma State University, said ODD is normally diagnosed in children between the ages of 6 and 12. Children diagnosed with the disorder often struggle with authority, in school or in social settings. Common treatments include family therapy or medications that have had success in aiding juveniles with ADHD, including Ritalin and Adderall.

Using hormones to treat ODD might actually worsen the situation, Coffey said.

“The other concern I have, as a psychiatrist, is that we know hormones play a role in mood,” she said. “If his mood got disrupted, that could only further complicate things.”

Estrogen is normally stocked at L.A. County juvenile facilities for use as part of hormone therapy for contraception and treatment of gender dysphoria, according to the health services representative.

The boy’s father said the hormone therapy has had a long-term effect on his son, who now scares easily and has become antisocial.

“He’s like a different person. He just wants to be in his room, and he don’t come out for nothing, all day in his room,” the father said. “He was never like that.”

And people wonder why I'm so critical of California.

Also I'm gonna leave this here.

People swear we live in the handmaid’s tale. But I don’t see anyone trying to fix women the way they’re trying to fix men.

[thestraggletag]

Virtual Session, A Rumbelle Zoom Fic

Rating: Explicit.

Summary: Town meetings were usually drab, boring events, and having them over Zoom hadn't improved them much. Or so Mr Gold thought, until he forgot to log out of the meeting after it ended, only to discover a half-naked Belle French had also forgotten to do so.

SOMEONE PLEASE COMMENT WITH A BETTER SUMMARY I HATE IT.

Based on this prompt.

“We will review your presentation and hold a virtual vote before the month is up, Miss French. Thank you very much for your time.”

The mayor adjusted her suit jacket, her shirt riding up as she did so and unknowingly displaying the telltale white check of her Adidas yoga pants. Royce snickered, taking advantage of the fact he was muted.

“As there are no other pending topics on today’s agenda this virtual session is adjourned.”

He half-expected her to produce a gable out of thin air and bang it against her marble countertop. All around him people began to say their goodbyes and log out of Zoom, lest Regina decide to spring a surprise motion at the last minute. There was no need to flee, however, as Regina herself was one of the first to log off. Given the amount of smoke he had spotted coming from behind her right before she exited he did not need to guess what had caused her sudden departure.

“I guess no apple turnover for dessert at Madame Mayor’s.”

He heard an adorable chuckle and did not need to glance at the screen again to guess who it was. Very few people found his brand of dark humour palatable, but the librarian seemed to love it. It was nice, he soon found out, to have someone appreciate his often ill-received quips. It was one of the things he had first noticed about her. Well, other than her stunning eyes. And perhaps her hair, which was a lovely shade of reddish-brown. Her legs too, he acknowledged reluctantly, so nicely-displayed by her short skirts and high heels. And her-

He stopped himself. That way lay madness and he knew it. It was one thing to admire in an unattached way, from a distance. He was a connoisseur of beautiful things, after all, and Belle French was certainly beautiful. Unfortunately she also happened to have a lovely personality. Kind, generous, open, but also bold, defiant and the littlest bit dark. She flaunted the rules of smalltown society by wearing what the matrons around town considered “inappropriate clothing” for a librarian, and speaking to anyone and everyone, including those that polite society would urge her to shun. Drank beer with the miners, for example, men deemed “too coarse” for genteel women, and stocked the library with altogether undesirable books, be it because they dealt with unseemly issues or because they were from traditional authors. Which, he was sure, was code for “white men”, even if Mother Superior never quite spelled it out in such terms.

She was altogether dangerous for him, with her mix of light and dark, so he was always on his guard, lest his thoughts veer too far into dangerous territory. He didn’t fear scorn or derision if his feelings became too obvious for her to ignore. Belle was altogether too kind for that. But to be gently yet firmly rebuffed, and have their subsequent interactions laced by the barest hint of pity from her, would be unbearable. 

“I’m pretty sure that at least Mr Spencer didn’t hear a word I said. His camera was off during the whole of my presentation.” The librarian huffed, clearly bothered that her proposal to increase the library’s budget to repair the East Wing’s leaky ceiling wouldn’t get a fair shot. The wing was currently closed, and had been since she had taken the post of librarian, but with the newfound need of social-distancing, particularly in enclosed spaces, she hoped she could change that, make the town council see the need for more space in the library. “Though perhaps he didn’t want to be yelled at again for not being in a three-piece suit for a virtual town meeting.”

He briefly paused to remember Spencer’s red face when Regina had chastised him for wearing a white polo shirt instead of a shirt and tie during the last meeting.

“Kinda hypocritical of Madame Mayor, given she was a couple of clothing articles shy of a full tracksuit tonight.”

They shared a conspiratorial laugh, and he hoped the camera somehow toned down the stupid look on his face. He tried to avoid direct eye contact, looking instead mildly-interested in her living-room. Her laptop seemed to be perched somewhere on her dining-room table, giving him a great view of the rest of her flat, which was a loft, so it was open space, with exposed brick and tall ceilings. Though small it was tastefully-decorated, and with enough bookcases to make it seem like it was a part of the library he had never been to, if it weren’t for the kitchen area and the- and he told himself to stop looking at it- queen-size bed.

“Well, Miss French, at the risk of getting ahead of myself I can confidently state that things are looking good for your project. It was an excellent presentation and I could see Midas and Hopper were clearly in favour. That leaves the Mayor and Spencer outnumbered. Hell, I think even Regina will vote yes on this one. I know she’s keen on finding a place for students with connectivity issues to go do their homework and attend some classes. Fingers crossed the voting goes your way.”

He smiled at her, trying to look reassuring instead of besotted, and they exchanged their goodbyes. He closed his laptop, deciding that he needed a stiff drink first and a cold shower later, and went over to his wet bar, where after some debate he picked up a bottle of Ardberg and poured himself three fingers of Scotch, opting to forgo the ice and drink it straight. The alcohol burned pleasantly on its way down, making him loosen up almost immediately. He went over to the window, undoing the buttons of his vest and slipping it off as he did, feeling warmed by the whiskey. He chanced a glance outside, where the night remained crisp and clear, thankfully devoid of snow. It was still bitterly cold, though, and he hoped the library’s heating system, which was in need of maintenance as well, would not fail. The money for its maintenance had already been allocated and the budget for the work set, but perhaps he could email the person in charge of the job and… persuade them to make it a priority. The work should’ve already been done, but the pandemic had put a temporary stop on jobs like that with the exception of emergencies. Now that things were slowly returning to normal he was confident he could get the people working on the library by the end of the week with three sentences or less.

He went back to his laptop, determined to send the email as soon as possible. He opened it up and noticed, at first, that his camera light was still on. Almost as soon as his brain connected the dots and realised that he had forgotten to log off Zoom he noticed something else: so had Belle French. She was walking around her house, seemingly tidying things up and humming as she went along. It was a lovely, domestic little display, and though he knew he needed to log off fucking Zoom and stop intruding on what Miss French clearly thought was the privacy of her own home, he didn’t move the mouse. Surely there was no harm in indulging a bit. He was a lonely man, partly by design and partly by circumstance, and though he often told himself he wasn’t missing out on anything, he had to admit it was nice to- albeit accidentally- share an intimate moment with someone he had an affinity with. He imagined, for a moment, that instead of her living-room he was seeing her in his, picking up discarded books or perhaps the remnants of a tea they had shared together. He quickly shook himself out of that fantasy, alarm bells ringing in his mind, and refocused in the present, where Belle was taking off her cardigan. Well, surely, that meant the heating system was holding, which was a good thing. Which reminded him of his idea to write-

He glanced at the monitor again, where Belle French was now shimming out of her skirt.

He blinked, idiotically-confused for a second, as if the thought of a woman undressing was news for him. After the initial shock he took in all the details, fixsting on the black stripe on the back of her sheer black stockings, which she rolled down with painstaking care, the gesture almost painfully erotic. She started on the buttons of her sheer maroon shirt, undoing them with ease and shrugging out of the garment. The black camisole she wore underneath did nothing to conceal her lacy black culotte, which hugged her perfect ass like it was made for her. She went to unpin her hair next, letting the bobby pins that kept it off her sides of her face drop into a little ceramic bowl on her vanity. He was surprised at how much seeing her walk around her house with bare feet, shaking her hair out and stretching her limbs affected him. There was nothing inherently sensual about her movements, yet he was transfixed, unable to look away. Any hope of containing his attraction or attachment to the librarian vanished into thin air at that moment, leaving him equal parts scared and turned on.

It was then that his mostly-unused sense of decency decided to let itself be known, a wave of shame washing through him at the notion of what he was doing. Miss French had every right to her privacy, and here he was, violating it in the worst possible way. He should log out immediately and stay away from the librarian for a rather long time, enough for-

“Royce?”

His heart lurched painfully in his chest at the sound of her voice. Slowly, reluctantly, he turned his head towards the screen, telling himself that he deserved the scorn and disgust he was sure to see in the librarian’s face. But whatever hasty apologies and half-formed excuses he was about to blurt out died on his lips the moment he saw her: she was standing in profile, arms crossed in front of her chest and hands grasping the hem of her camisole, prepared to take it off, and her head was turned to the side, her eyes on her laptop screen. She didn’t look accusatory, or disgusted. She didn’t even look embarrassed. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone, but it looked more like… like... 

Arousal.

“I’m here, sweetheart.”

He could hardly recognise the low, growly burr as his voice. It sounded uncouth and harsh, like the way he used to speak back in Glasgow. He had worked for years on toning down his accent, letting only the barest hint of it show when he was trying to intimidate someone. Never enough to sound too much like he did back in his youth, and yet he hadn’t managed to quite rid himself of it. 

On screen Belle lifted the hem of her camisole a few inches, exposing supple, creamy skin. Royce tried hard not to swallow his own tongue. She bit her lip, suddenly hesitant, and fuck him if that sliver of vulnerability wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. 

“Is this… Is this okay?” 

It took him an embarrassingly-long time to understand that Belle fucking French was asking him if it was alright for her to strip in front of him, presumably for their mutual enjoyment. He reminded himself that he had had only one glass of Scotch, not enough to dismiss whatever was happening as a drunken daydream. Which he might have had, from time to time. About Belle. Maybe.

“It’s perfect, sweetheart.” 

Her lips curled into a coy smile, the growl in his voice making her shiver, and in one swift motion removed her camisole, revealing a lacy black bandeau bra with delicate details done in leavers lace. It matched her knickers, he noticed idly, and the black contrasted amazingly with her pale, softly-blushed skin. His keen eye noticed the exquisite craftsmanship right away. It was an expensive set, no doubt, and given how she was wearing during a commonplace day where she planned to stay home it led him to the conclusion that Belle French simply owned a lot of fancy lingerie, to the point that she wore it as an everyday sort of garment. He was very sure he would never again be able to look at her and not think about that.

“You’re gorgeous.”

In any other situation he would’ve been embarrassed to sound so… Reverent. So incredibly not in control of the situation. He might be fully-dressed, a man of means with a position of political power in their little hamlet and she might be a half-naked small-town librarian but he was absolutely powerless at the moment. And what was worse, he enjoyed it. 

“Thank you, Mr Gold.”

Though he loved the way she said “Gold”, with enough irreverence to turn her tone teasing, he desperately wanted her to say his name.

“Call me Royce, sweetheart.”

She walked over to the table, flipped the chair and sat down, draping her arms loosely around the backrest, the position loose and cocky. There was no doubt in her now, no hesitance. She had assumed control of the situation, for which he was grateful. She tilted her head to a side, sizing him up.

“You’re wearing a lot of clothes, Royce. I feel at a disadvantage.”

She smiled, looking supremely unconcerned, but there was a glint in her eyes he recognised quite easily. Greed. And not the kind he was used to seeing in people who frequented his shop to strike one of his infamous deals. It was different. It certainly felt different to him, hit him right beneath his gut in a way that felt both uncomfortable and pleasant. Without quite thinking his fingers went to the knot of his tie, already loosened, and tugged expertly, untying it in seconds. The silk made a soft, hissing sound as it slipped off his neck, which sounded loud in the otherwise dead silence of the room. Belle followed his movements avidly from the screen, and the look of utter absorption on her face gave him the surge of bravery he needed to tackle the buttons of his shirt till he could shimmy out of it. He was wearing a white undershirt beneath, but his arms and throat were bare, making him feel ridiculously exposed. 

“You have many layers. I like that about you.” Belle dropped her gaze, looking coy and vulnerable at the same time. “I like a lot of things about you.”

“Me too.” He tried to stop himself, but it was easier said than done. “Too many things, actually. But I’ve always understood that it would be foolish to expect anything to come of that.” He looked at Belle, draped over her chair and in her underwear. “Well, perhaps I was wrong.”

Belle smiled.

“You’re finally getting it. Good boy.”

He forced himself not to react visibly to those words, even though the moment he heard them it was like being struck by lightning. Thankfully the camera caught him from the waist up, hiding the embarrassing way his cock had perked up a second earlier. He could not hide his flushed face, however, or the way his eyes glazed over the slightest bit. 

“Tell you what. I’ll take off my bra if you lose the t-shirt. It’s a fair deal.”

It wasn’t. As far as he was concerned he was getting the far better end of the deal but he would never dream of telling her that. Tipping his hand was not his style. 

“Deal.”

He said it in the pleased, soft burr he usually reserved for his less savoury business arrangements, the kind that needed to be sealed in the cloak of night in some remote, deserted location. Belle shivered, and he enjoyed the thought that his voice made her react so. Feeling bold he grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked it off,      baring himself from the waist up. He saw and felt the librarian’s eyes roam over his torso. It wasn’t a pretty sight. He had scars from his dodgy upbringing in Glasgow, and some from his learning days restoring antiques. He was fond of the sun so at least he was not pasty white, or overly hairy, but he didn’t have much in the way of muscles. Belle, however, seemed to appreciate his more lean physique, if the heat of her gaze was any indication. After she seemed to have her fill of staring she leaned back and deftly unhooked her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms till the garment was on the floor. 

He stared. Couldn’t help himself really. Belle French’s tits were perfect. Fucking perfect. Just the right size, incredibly soft-looking and with the loveliest nipples he had ever seen, a rosy-pink that he would never be able to get out of his head. The kind of breasts that would ruin a man for other women. He certainly felt like no other breasts could ever tempt him again. 

“Royce, are you okay?”

Her voice sounded a delightful mix of amused and slightly worried, so he forced himself to nod, still unable to look away.

“Fucking perfect.”

Fuck, was that his voice? He sounded… dazed. He fought the instinct to slap some sense into himself. Belle draped herself across the back of the chair again, and though the position hid her breasts somewhat it didn’t do so completely. 

“I love how soft you are. Underneath the hardass pawnbroker exterior, I mean. Soft, and kind and funny. So funny. It’s one of your most attractive qualities.”

Most people wouldn’t think so. His brand of humour was dark, sometimes too much. And yet Belle always laughed, always caught on to his quips and seemed to appreciate them in a consporatory way. She could also dish it out, but in a far more subtle way that he was sure most people didn’t catch on to. Softly-spoken sarcasm delivered in a lilting accent. 

What was not to love?

He told her so. Unburdened himself completely, caught up in his own physical vulnerability and hers. It felt safe to tell her of his feelings, of how days where he knew he would see her were brighter, and how he liked when they shared a smile or exchanged a comment on a book. How his heart fluttered when he watched her read to the children, and how another part of his anatomy altogether reacted when she strutted around town with her short skirts and devil-may-care attitude. Liked how she thumbed her nose at the pearl-clutchers in town, doing things her way. Completely unsuited for boring, conventional small-town life, and yet wholly at home in Storybrooke, to the point where he could not imagine the town without her.

He shut up after that, noticing how she seemed to have changed, her mood going from loose and flirty to… anxious? No, that wasn’t the right word. Unsettled, perhaps.

“I can’t do this.” The sudden sentence felt like a slap in the face, but the moment his face dropped she seemed to backpedal. “No, no, not like that! I mean… I wanna touch you. I want to be in the same room. With even less clothes on. This… It suddenly doesn’t feel like enough.”

She was fucking right, he realised. He felt itchy all of a sudden. Unfulfilled. Empty.

“Come over.”

“What?”

Belle seemed genuinely surprised, but the way her skin flushed and her eyes got big let him know she was very open to the idea.

“Come the fuck over. It’s fucking cold anyway and the heating system at the library is shite at the moment. Come over and I’ll keep you warm, sweetheart.”

He was rather impressed with his blunt bit of bravery, born out of a consuming need more than anything, and even more impressed when it looked like it worked. Belle scrambled out of the chair, throwing a lovely little nightie on before getting her coat and scarf. 

“Be there in a few. See you!”

She disconnected before he could tell her to bundle up. It was fucking freezing outside and that nightie and her stockings and shoes would do nothing against the cold, coat or no coat. A moment later he realised he was sitting down in his pants, socks and shoes and nothing else while Belle fucking French was coming over to... 

Fuck.

He scrambled up, fishing for his cane in a hurry and having just enough presence of mind to disconnect from Zoom. He went upstairs to his room, deciding that it would be awkward for him to still be wearing pants. And socks. And shoes. So he chucked all that off, throwing a dressing gown over his boxers, pausing to put on his house slippers, glad beyond words he had recently bought new ones. After that he went downstairs to the kitchen and popped a bottle of champagne, looking into his pantry for the box of chocolate truffles from Kreuther, a treat he had gotten himself after visiting a state sale in Midtown Manhattan a week ago. He arranged the impromptu offerings on the dining room table, and when the bell rang he told himself he was ready. He opened the door, finding a rosy-cheeked and clearly shivering Belle on the other side, hair windswept, as if she had run there. Taking into account her heels it was rather impressive.

Belatedly he thought about the scene she had walked into. He in his dressing gown, with champagne flutes and truffles on the table and a fire roaring in the living-room, a scenario ripe for debauching. But perhaps she wished to talk more, to explore their emotional intimacy. Perhaps the trek there had killed her ardour and all she wanted and needed was to get warm and comfortable. He didn’t want to come off as… expecting anything.

Belle, however, seemed to not share his concerns. She took one look at him, one look at the softly-lit space behind him and the food laid out and smiled.

“You brilliant, wonderful man.”

A second late she was in his arms. Cold, but soft and smelling of orange blossoms and frost. She tilted her head up, slanting her lips across before he could blink and it was… wonderful. The coolness of her lips contrasted with the searing heat of her mouth, making for a rather delicious contrast of sensations. He used the hand not clutching his cane for dear life to find the buttons of her coat, undoing them one by one with barely-contained impatience. Finally he had the coat opened and could snake his arm around her waist. The silk of her small camisole was soft to the touch, and let him feel the warmth of her skin beneath.

He needed to feel more. Now that she was safe in the warmth of his house she didn’t need her coat or scarves and went about the business of removing both without separating himself from her. It took a lot of tugging and pulling and a couple of missteps that landed her up against the wall, to his utter delight, but she was finally rid of both. Her skin, despite the toasty temperature inside the house, was still chilly from the outside.

“Come close to the fire, sweetheart.”

They managed to stumble across the hallway and into the living room, where they seemed to come to the mutual conclusion that remaining standing was not conducive to their current situation. The rug near the fireplace, thankfully, was thick and soft, and the couple of throw blankets he quickly spread over it made it more so. Once he was satisfied she would be comfortable he let her tackle him to the ground, enjoying having her above him. She was small, especially once she wrestled her heeled boots off. A tiny slip of a woman, shorter than him even, but there was a presence to her, a strength, that he couldn't help but surrender to. Beautiful, terrifying Belle.

“I’ve dreamed of this.” Her voice was low, husky. “You weren’t wearing a dressing gown in my dreams, though.”

“And you weren’t wearing anything in mine.” His accent was so thick he feared she might not be able to understand me. “Tit for tat, dearie.”

She ground herself against him, causing him to hiss and arc. Enough pressure to elicit a response, but not nearly enough to satisfy him.

“Don’t call me that. That’s how you call everyone else, and I’m not everyone else, am I?”

Her confidence slipped for a second, exposing a hint of uncertainty that he was quick to dispel.

“No, sweetheart. Of course not.”

He untied the belt of his dressing gown, managing to slip it off while still pinned by Belle. He didn’t imagine it was a very sexy spectacle but she seemed to appreciate it nevertheless. To reward him she yanked her nightie off, revealing her glorious breasts once again to his hungry stare. She was absolutely perfect, made even better by the way the fire lit her skin and hair, and turned her eyes a deeper blue. She looked fierce yet soft, a magnanimous mistress looking down fondly at a favoured pet. Idly she traced a scar near his right shoulder with the tip of her index finger, frowning the slightest bit.

“I want to know the story behind this. I want to know… more. About you. All there is to know that you wish to tell me.”

“Yes.” Usually he’d balk at the idea of such intimacy, of being so bare. Yet it felt like something he could do with Belle, something he wanted to do. “Yes, of course, sweetheart. And I want to know everything about you.”

She smiled, the gesture slowly turning sultry as she crossed her elbows over his chest.

“We’ll talk… later.”

She kissed him then, slowly and thoroughly, sinking one hand into his hair so she could tilt his head just so. Her fingernails felt delicious against the sensitive skin of his scalp and were a welcome distraction from the uncomfortable pressure of her ass against his groin. He wanted to last, desperately, but she was every wet dream he’d ever had come true. He needed to redirect his attention to anywhere but his aching cock. So he forced himself to focus on anything else. The soft, silky feeling of her skin against the rough pads of his fingers, and the taste of her, faintly sweet. She kissed like it was an art, managing to somehow find every spot that made him want to rip her panties off and just bury himself in her, foreplay be damned.

He startled when he felt her hands trail down his body and grasp the elastic of his underwear, tugging on it to hint at what she wanted. He obliged her before he could talk himself out of it, raising his hips so she could slide the boxers off his legs while still kissing. He felt her touch his mangled ankle and forced himself not to flinch or pull back. Blessedly she seemed to notice his discomfort, tugging his boxers off completely and reaching out to place his hands on the sides of her hips, against the scratchy fabric of her underwear. The message was clear, especially when she propped herself against the floor with her hands so she could raise her hips. He gently tugged her pantied down, with slow, careful movements to avoid accidentally ripping the delicate lace and not simply to watch in aroused amusement as Belle fidgeted above him. 

“Patience, sweetheart.”

She whined, kicking her panties off when they reached her ankles and pushing him back a second later, her expression demanding.

“No more delays. We’ve had months of foreplay.”

He found himself agreeing with her. It certainly felt like they had been teasing each other for months, with the shared jokes, the furtive glances, bitten lips and coy smiles. Not that he had even dared dream of it before that night. Belle was too good in every way for a bitter old cripple like himself. Her hands on his cock chased his self-deprecation away, leaving his mind in a blissful state of blankness. Slowly, torturously so, she took him in, her hot, wet cunt enveloping him with the right amount of pressure. It was almost too good a feeling, leaving his nerve-endings too excited to register much else. She was fucking perfect, the feel of her the weight of her above him. Like she was made for him, only he wasn’t that lucky. 

He needed to somehow make it up to her, make it so good she would not regret it. So he focused on establishing a rhythm, steady enough to build up their pleasure, but not too perfect to make it boring. He concentrated on the sounds she made, the perfect little gasps and the occasional, shivery whine that let him know she was enjoying herself. Soon enough, however, coordination and any form of higher thinking went out the window, the pleasure getting to be too much to focus on anything else other than driving himself as deep into her as he possibly could. He had enough presence of mind to sneak a hand between their bodies, slipping it across her wet fold to stimulate her further, determined not to come before she did. When he finally felt it, the blissful fluttering of her inner walls accompanied by a triumphant cry, he let go of his last shreds of self-control, letting his body seek out its needed release, the feeling travelling up his spine and leaving his whole body boneless with satisfaction. 

He grunted when she practically fell on top of him, though he welcomed the reassuring weight of her and the heat from her body. He thought about the champagne and the truffles waiting for them on the dining room table and decided they could wait. As soon as he was able to move he would wrap his dressing gown around Belle and take her and the food and drinks to the bedroom, where they could recoup their energy and talk. And perhaps much later, if he was good, Belle would let him drink champagne from her navel. 

Thank Regina and her fucking Zoom twon halls. He would never complain about them again.

[withastolenlantern]

What do you think it was like?” Rafael asked as he hacked at the tough vegetation with his hoe, pulling the dense vines into a pile in the pathway. The soil was nitrogen poor, even when heavily fertilized, and the local flora had a fibrous root that was always threatening to choke out their transplanted species. The ground cover was too thick for the harvesters to handle, so the crops were still pulled by hand at the end of the wet season.

“Why do you always ask that?” I said, stooping down to the ground and dusting the dirt from the now exposed potatoes, gently brushing them clear like an archaeologist might some ancient, precious treasure. I pulled the tubers from the ground and put them into the cart.

“You don’t wonder?” He leaned on the handle of the hoe, brushing the sweat from his dark brow.

“I try not to.”

“Come on, Shan. If I have to have one more meeting about soil nutritiation, I’m going to kill myself. And you’re down there all the time…”

“We’re not having this conversation again.” I hadn’t come out to the fields looking for a fight, but I was always prepared for one. “Stop changing the subject.”

He frowned. “Please don’t start.”

“I’m just saying. The season’s almost over, and we’re not getting any younger.”

He put down the hoe and knelt down next to me, lifting another potato and cradling it. He looked at me plaintively. “I just… are you sure this is what you want? To spend your life toiling in the dirt? I mean, your father…”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “My father is a drunk, and he has nothing to do with this.”

“He didn’t used to be. He might snap out of it. Some of them do,” he said. “I’m just worried you’ll get bored of me, of this. It’s not a glamorous life.”

“No, but it would be our life, Rafe,” I pleaded.

“One more season. The bureau is due to review the allotments soon, and I almost have enough saved up for a down-payment on my own forty.” He kissed me gently on the forehead, then stood, and stared up toward the sky and sighed. “You honestly don’t wonder? What it was like, knowing what was happening out there?”

I stood too, matching his gaze. I put my arm around his wrist and held it gently to my chest. “Come with me. I have to check on him, and then maybe you’ll see why I’d much prefer to farm potatoes with you.”

It had been one-hundred fifty-nine years since we’d last heard from anyone outside the system. The Network had gone down July 17th, 2938, or at least that’s what the history books said. And that is only if you went by the original Earth calendar, which no one did anymore. With a twenty-eight hour day and a rotation period of six-hundred seventeen days, matching time here on New Caledonia to that on Earth was pointless. With The Network, information would take an interminable time to transit the two-hundred eighty-four light year and four relay distance between us; even then, relativity was unclear on whether there was any such thing as simultaneous events at these stellar distances anyway. For me it was irrelevant: the Earth might as well not exist, may not exist, and Sol was just a very dim star you could barely make out in the southern sky.

For us, it had been a normal Sunday, Wet Season 12, CSY 134. New Caledonia is an eccentric planet with a single landmass in its northern hemisphere surrounded by a large planetary ocean. Because of its near forty-five degree axial tilt relative to the ecliptic, the year is divided into two seasons of nearly equal length. During the Wet Season, the more direct sunlight heats the seas, driving strong currents that bring strong storms to the western coast. The moist air blows in and dumps copious rain across the western plains before climbing into the central mountain range that separates the continent, the only remnant of the clash between the two gigantic tectonic plates that formed the land we now call home. This quirk of a jetstream leaves the eastern plains beyond the mountains in a giant rain shadow, barren and dry. For this reason, all the major settlements are here in the west, and in the Dry Season, the ocean gyres cease and we hunker down for a long, cold, arid winter.

The rains were strong that Wet Season, or so the stories go. At first they though the heavy cloud cover and unstable air was interfering with communication to the satellite arrays. Minkowski Transmission provides a supraliminal link through the interstellar void, but it was still subject to the space-time warps of a heavy gravity well; we are forced to rely on more pedestrian broadcast methods to communicate with the Network Relays out in longer orbits free from gravitational interference. But they checked the dishes and the transmission center and everything was fine. Then they checked again. Then they waited until the Dry Season, and checked again. And then they waited.

We walked up the path to the main road where I’d parked my truck, and Rafe loaded the cart, only half-full of potatoes, into the rear cargo bed. “How is he doing?” he asked, hopping into the cab and pulling on his safety belt.

I pushed the ignition switch and the engine purred to life. The battery chimed a plea that it needed to be recharged soon, and I felt that deep in my soul in a way the inanimate vehicle could never understand. “He has good days and bad.”

“How much longer?”

“Too long.” I put the truck into gear and programmed the destination into the navigational system. It lurched forward, the tracks catching slightly in the soft, damp clay of the plain. “Honestly I stopped counting a long time ago.”

We made it maybe half a mile before the rain started again, at first light pricks ricocheting off the windscreen of the truck, but quickly growing to fat blobs that exploded with a violent thud. I opened the valve to the distillation unit on the roof and a slow drip of cleansed water trickled into my canteen. After a few seconds I closed the valve and took a sip; the water was cool and clear. I offered some to Rafe, but he demurred with a slight wave. “Do you think he’ll go back to his career, after?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. At the beginning they said they’d welcome him back, but I think we all expect that was just a pleasantry. I’m… I’m not sure if he could handle it, now.”

We rode in silence for a few more minutes before he spoke again. “I’m not sure he’ll approve,” he said with subtle defeat. “Especially if he goes back to work.”

“He doesn’t get a say,” I replied. I reached across the seats and took his hand in mine. I smiled as brightly as I could in reassurance. “I’ve made my choice. This is what I want, for myself. For us. He can object if he wants, but what’s the worst that happens? It’s not like we can be further apart, not after what’s happened.”

It was several days into the Dry Season before the panic really set in. The original settlers had always known it was a one-way trip out here- four hundred years was a long time in stasis, and there was never a guarantee the planet would provide a sufficient fuel source to power the generation ship’s massive thrust engines back up. So like seeds in the wind humanity scattered itself across the stars, secure in the knowledge that the Network Relays would prevent them from ever being truly alone. Mankind might diverge physically and spacially; over time genetics and environmental factors would certainly breed out several new homo subspecies. But with the Network we could at least stay connected enough to share our stories, our art, our discoveries, and what else has humanity ever been but that?

The governor made an address and appealed for calm. New Caledonia had been self-sustaining since the beginning, she reminded everyone. They’d be fine. It was always a known possibility that this might happen, and the best everyone could do was to go on with their lives. The Network would come back, or it wouldn’t; they’d keep trying to re-establish communication.

The rumors started swirling immediately. The panel show ratings skyrocketed. We watched some of the footage in school, when I was younger; one talking head insisted it could be an alien threat, splitting us up before some pending invasion. There’s never been any sign of extraterrestrial intelligence even exists, let alone in competition for colonization, the other shouted. A third argued it was a sign from God, that humanity had outreached its grasp.

A popular conspiracy stream posited that maybe it was just New Caledonia. What if everyone else’s Network connection still works, and they’re cutting us out? The opposition party saw an opportunity and ran with it- what if the government shut down the link? On purpose! What if this was all a ploy to consolidate power and rule the planet as an oligarchy? The riots lasted three days, with violence and looting in the city streets before cooler heads prevailed. The government stayed in tact, and the opposition leaders were purged for fomenting insurrection. And thus was born the New Caledonian hermit kingdom.

“I don’t think I’d even want it to come back, at this point,” I groused. “Not after all of this.”

“How can you say that?” Rafe asked, incredulous. “You’re not the least bit curious?”

I thought for a moment. “Curious, yeah, I guess. But I don’t know that it would change all that much. It’s been so long. What if it comes back and it’s just… too different?”

“Yeah but think of what we might be missing out on,” he argued. “It might have helped with The Rot. It might have…”

“Don’t,” I warned, feeling the threat of tears welling my eyes.

For one-hundred fifty-nine orbits we’d tended our flocks and tilled our soils alone. Without a broader knowledge base, technological progress slowed. In CSY 204 a plague came, some meta-organic compound released from a pit mine dug too deep. The Rot claimed thirteen percent of the population before we could quarantine it out. When I was nine they finally found a way to inoculate against it. I remembered wincing at the shot as my father looked on, relief evident in his face that I’d be spared the fate that had claimed so many lives, including my mothers.

Maybe Rafe was right; maybe someone out beyond the stars might have helped us avoid that tragedy. And maybe someone here might know or do something that could save lives elsewhere. But in the years since the Network went down, we’d persevered, raised generations on our own. And inevitably just like Rafael they would stare up at the night sky with the same wonder as those before. And then they’d also ask about the abandoned broadcast center in the empty valley beyond the outskirts of the main settlement, grown over with the local moss-analogue from years of disuse.

The truck crested a small hill, the tracks struggling for purchase in the mud as they pulled the vehicle over the incline, and we looked down into the valley where that broadcast center sat. Every two years an adult was selected by random lot to man the station, in the increasingly unlikely event communication with the Network was re-established. The government called it “The Receiver” in an effort to present it as some important position, but everyone knew it was a joke. It came with no real benefits, just a small stipend and the obligation of a community. We all prayed at the Harvest Festival that our number would not be drawn from the bowl.

My father was a proud man, an engineer who helped manage the settlement’s geothermal power station. His luck had run out eight-hundred sixty-three days ago. He swore up and down that the lottery was rigged; that the government thought him being a technical expert instead of a field-hand, that the fact that his wife was gone and his children all grown, made him expendable. He might have been right, but that didn’t absolve him the responsibility. So he’d resigned himself, and us with him, to the doldrums of minding an interface that may never come back online.

He read a book a day, or at least he claimed, and while the library did have a fair amount of humanity’s literary efforts prior to the cutoff, their plots and concerns were divorced from life here on the frontier. He took up drinking, inevitably, as did everyone else assigned to the posting. What they don’t tell you when your name is pulled from the bowl is that the sacrifice is not yours alone- the burden is your family’s to bear. My brother’s and I took turns minding him, bringing him food and checking on his mental well-being but they all had families of their own now, and I was desperate to start mine too. We were all ready to move on, and I hoped by bringing Rafael with me he could see that I was serious about starting our life together.

We pulled up outside the comms center and dismounted from the truck.

“Hang on a second,” Rafe said. “I want to talk to him.”

I looked at him quizzically.

“Just… let me do this, okay?”

I smiled and kissed his cheek gently. He went inside while I unloaded a tote filled with fresh fruits and a sandwich I’d laced with some amphetamines to help keep him lucid. The interior of the building was dark; the lights hard burned out several months ago and no one from the government could be bothered to maintain the place on any expedited time scale. I brushed some of the local vines from the threshold of the entryway as I entered. “Dad? It’s Shan. I brought some food.”

As I passed from the mottled grey sunlight outside to the dark interior I could make out blurry figures backlit by the eerie glow of his reading lamp.. They were both standing, which was odd. Dad was usually in the chair when I visited, most of the time asleep.

Rafe emerged suddenly from the shadows and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Shan. Stop.”

“What is it?” I asked, taken aback. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s… here. Let’s go outside.” He pulled me gently but forcefully toward the door.

“What the fuck, Rafe, stop it. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s your dad. He…”

I shoved Rafael out of the way and stepped forward into the comm station. My father came into clearer focus, and I could tell immediately something wasn’t right. I came closer and dropped the basket to the floor in shock. His body hung limply, his feet swaying gently five centimeters from the floor. A length of electrical cord, half-stripped from the wall behind him, was wound tightly around his neck. I grabbed his feet and lifted, crying. “No no no no no, dad, fuck.” I pushed and contorted his body, trying to free him but to no avail. Tears were streaming down my face now, hot and wet.

I pulled a short table across the concrete floor and climbed up onto it, my vision blurred with anger and fear and sobs. I yanked at the cable, trying to unwind it, to free his body. I pulled and wrenched and screamed in desperation, banging on the overhead truss that supported it until I nearly broke my hand. I collapsed onto him, my hands around his shoulders, my face against his chest. His skin was cold and pallid. I was too late to save him.

“Shan.” Rafael stood in the entryway to the station. He offered his hand I took it gingerly, climbing down from the table and following him outside. He pulled me in close as I wailed. “I’m so sorry. I don’t…”

I pulled Rafe to the ground and cried for another few minutes, my chest heaving with agony. “It’s not your fault,” I whispered finally.

“It’s not yours either. You did the best you could.”

“I know.” I pulled the sleeve of my jumper up over my hand and wiped my eyes. “I think a part of me knew it would always end like this. It has so many times before. In a way it might be… I don’t know. Better? I’d always worried about what he would be like after.”

I gulped in air as my breathing stabilized. “Come help me get him down?”

“Sure,” he said, mustering a weak smile.

We went back into the station and looked upon him once more. He looked frail, fragile in a way he hadn’t before. Being alone this long, it just did things to a person. Rafael grabbed his feet as I climbed back up on the table. With Rafe bracing his weight I was able to loosen the taught cable and slip it free, and we lowered the body gently down to the table. He went out to the truck to get a bag to cover my father, and I stood silent vigil, until in the quiet I heard a strange humming noise from across the room. I turned and saw that the Network terminal screen was activated. “That’s… weird.”

I walked across and stood in front of the terminal, suddenly alive with activity. Rafe entered back in with the bag. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know. It’s not usually… on.” I leaned in close. “It’s displaying something.”

A line of dots and dashed appeared on the interface. “I… I think it’s old morse code. Dad had to learn it. I helped him practice.”

“What’s it say?” he asked, a sudden dread in his voice I didn’t recognize. I could feel my stomach welling up in anxiety as well.

“It says.... HELP.”

[ivesory]

10 Critical Parts of Guidance for Inventors

There are no one-size-fits-all technique inventors can adhere to, and there is no inventing roadmap to success that will certainly work in all instances. Notwithstanding, several things can and should be understood if an inventor is most likely to seek to invent as greater than a pastime.

By understanding some fundamental yet crucial information first you will significantly elevate the possibilities of doing well. This is not to claim that you will not make errors; mistakes are inescapable. You will, nonetheless, make fewer mistakes if you provide thoughtful consideration to what it is you are attempting to do. Running off as well as a beginning without gratitude for the process will prove costly. Before continue reading visit https://theavtimes.com/2020/07/01/amazing-ways-inventhelp-can-assist-you-as-an-inventor/

What complies with are 10 crucial items of recommendations for inventors.

1. Locate Your Passion as an Inventor

If you are a major inventor as well as do not intend on giving up the very first time an obstacle is placed in front of you, then you require to concentrate on something for which you have a true passion. The factor here is basic: The act of inventing takes a great deal of time so you need to like it to make it function. There will certainly be both successes and also setbacks, and any straightforward inventor will inform you of the troubles that surpass the successes. What makes inventing gratifying is the quest for success as well as the challenge. If you are not enthusiastic concerning your invention and also the field of endeavor the possibility you will certainly do well is really low.

2. Inventors Must Become an Expert

The greatest blunder I see all inventors make is they hurry right into a field of venture without actually recognizing what they are entering, or to resolve the trouble in an industry they do not understand. Every brand-new moms and dad all of a sudden end up being an inventor in the baby products area, however exactly how lots of having any kind of idea regarding the difficult government security policies enforced on baby products? While passion is called for, knowledge is additionally needed. A successful inventor will certainly find out whatever they can around each aspect of the area, from the technology to business, to the competition.

3. The Goal is Not Simply to Obtain a Patent

The goal is not to develop an amazing invention, the goal is not to get a patent, the goal is practically universally to generate income. The cool invention and license are a means throughout, not the end in as well as of themselves. Do not obtain so caught up in the imaginative facet of inventing that they fall short to quit and also ask whether they must be investing the time, money, and power into the production. The moral of the story is that the most effective innovation can cause no financial benefit, while often small improvements can lead to financial riches. Therefore, it usually makes good sense for the inventor to concentrate on inventing to fix specific troubles, as well as not just inventing to develop something unique.

4. Method Inventing in a Business Responsible Way

Treat your invention from day one as if it will certainly be hugely effective because by the time you recognize that this is the invention that will certainly be wildly successful it will be as well late unless you have grown the seeks for success early. Don't drop in love with an invention that is falling short when you can relocate on to the next project, which might be the one that will be successful.

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5. Don't Underestimate the Importance of a Patent Search

If it looks like just incredibly narrow patent protection will certainly be offered it most likely makes more sense to just relocate on to your following invention because inventors constantly have the next invention. Patent searches are also superb learning devices since they permit you to uncover which aspects of your invention are most likely to add to patentability.

6. Don't Underestimate the Importance of an Internet Search

Over the years I have preached to inventors about the relevance of doing a patent search. Previously in my career, I would certainly listen to from inventors who would certainly say that they browsed the Internet extensively and can not find the invention so they want to relocate ahead. For goodness benefits, if you come up with an invention the initial thing you must do is see whether it exists and can be purchased online or in shops.

7. Certificate Inventions Not Ideas

Without a patent-pending, you do not have anything to license aside from a suggestion that does not have substantial boundaries. When you seek to license a concept alone you can easily scare business. Even listening to a concept without substantial borders as specified in a minimum of a provisional license application can terrify business to the point where some, possibly many, won't intend to do it. Furthermore, the additional you can create your idea the better and better it will certainly end up being. A suggestion may be worth a little to an extremely minimal number of individuals, yet an idea that has taken shape and has become an invention is worth also more as well as to even more people. An invention that has been defined in a provisional patent application is worth more. Famous inventor trainer Stephen Key discusses a submitted provisional license application creating "viewed possession," and he recommends his inventor pupils seriously make the effort as well as the power to define their ideas in concrete methods to create those regarded civil liberties with a provisionary filing. That is exceptional advice.

8. Set a Budget

Inventing and also commercializing can be exceptionally expensive, and also if you are an inventor that implies you are creative and also it is insane to assume that your current invention will be your last. Many inventors have a handful of inventions at any type of one point, so the difficulty they have is selecting which one to seek first. That being the case, and the inescapable truth that you may not rack up with the initial invention you pick, you need to set a budget and also constantly review via the process to ensure that it continues to make good sense to go after the invention. Spending time and money is something, yet spending good cash as well as your time once the search has been demonstrated to likely not be rewarding is absolutely nothing short of a catastrophe. I suggest you establish a spending plan, which you can reassess if points appear to be relocating forward in a favorable instruction. When you reach your budget restriction if there is no favorable energy you need to proceed to what is following. Do not throw your work away, you never know when it might become appropriate or you may have an advancement motivation.

9. Proof of Concept

At some point, it will certainly come to be required to verify your invention, which is called a proof of principle. While it is real that an invention with a proof of principle will be more important than one without such evidence, it is still required for inventors to be cautious. You might begin functioning with an artist who can sketch your invention first on paper.

10. Plausibly Estimate the Size of the marketplace

There is nothing wrong with dreaming, however, there is an extremely vital cautionary tale to be outlined the significant harm that can be done to possibility when inventors exaggerate the market dimension for their invention. You don't intend to be the one that with confidence declares: "Everyone is mosting likely to require to get this invention." No one ever attains 100% market share, and if that is what you expect you will be let down. If you are serious about establishing the real size of the market you will certainly investigate openly readily available info and dig through the data using practical assertions. According to U.S. Census information, in 2016 40.6 million individuals were living in poverty in the United States. The poverty line for a person was $12,228, while the poverty line for a household of 4 was $24,563. So precisely the amount of individuals can manage to purchase your invention? And then think about how many people could need the invention. Also check out https://theavtimes.com/2020/07/01/amazing-ways-inventhelp-can-assist-you-as-an-inventor/

[introvertguide]

The Life of Roman Polanski

The director of our current movie under review, Roman Polanski, is a man that has been surrounded by sadness and controversy. I think that he is a great director and an amazing creator of the visual arts, but he has a major flaw that makes me very glad he is nowhere near me. I think a statement like that deserves some explanation, but know that a lot of my take is based on opinion. I was not alive when a lot of his issues occurred so I base my opinion on news and official record statements. I will try and rely on recorded facts as much as possible and make a point to mention if something is not proven. I also encourage anyone who is interested to find out more because it is a fascinating story.

Polanski started off the in a pretty bad way as he was born in 1933 in Paris during the height of Nazi reign in Europe. He was moved to Krakow in 1937 right before the German invasion and his parents were taken in raids. He was kept alive in foster homes under an assumed identity and was lucky to survive. His mother died in Auschwitz, but he was reunited with his father after the war in 1946. Roman had quite the artistic eye and used it for both photography and filming. He attended the National Film School in Lodz, Poland and started directing short films that gained recognition. One film in particular was called Bicycle. It was a true story of a thief that tricked Polanski out of his money when purchasing a bicycle and instead beat Polanski around the head with the butt of a gun. The thief was found and eventually executed for past crimes including 3 murders. 

After graduating in 1959, Polanski went to France and continued to make short films. He reported that there was a problem with xenophobia at the time since so many Polish people had dispersed around Europe after the war. He went to England and made three movies between 1965 and 1968 that gained recognition in America: Repulsion, Cul-de-sac, and Dance of the Vampires. A young woman named Sharon Tate played a role in Dance of the Vampires and Polanski fell in love. He married her in 1968 in England, and they moved to the U.S. so he could make movies in Hollywood. His first film in the states was a horror film entitled Rosemary’s Baby, one of the highest rated horror films of all time. Polanski had a beautiful young wife, a son on the way, a hit movie with more work coming, and great prospects for life in the United States.

As horrific as his formative years were, I am surprised to find myself writing that this is when Polanski’s life really went out of control. On August 9th, 1969, cult members who followed a man named Charles Manson broke into the Polanski home in Los Angeles and murdered the 8 month pregnant Sharon Tate and four friends that were at the home. Polanski had been working in London on a new film and wasn’t there that night. He says to this day that it is by far the greatest regret of his life. Remember this. It seems that some wires got crossed as far as Roman’s thinking process because his behavior really took a turn.

His films had been dark and violent in the past, but they started to have sexual undertones with more graphic nudity. His first movie back after the loss of his wife was Macbeth, a movie that was rated X at the time for graphic nudity and violence. Polanski later said that he was in a dark place, but the media would find things in his movies always looking for a story. He hated the media after the sensationalism and lack of privacy involved with the loss of his wife and son. Next came an extremely odd road trip sex comedy that was appropriately called What?. And then came his last work filmed in the United States and the film he was probably best known for, Chinatown. I don’t want to go over the film too much since it is the film currently under review for the group, but it is very dark and has an extremely down beat ending. 

And then another crime was committed in Polanski’s life that would haunt while simultaneously erasing any good will the American public had for him. He was charged for drugging and raping a 13-year-old girl who modeled for him during a Vogue photoshoot. It was recorded as occurring at the Bel Air estate of Jack Nicholson. There is no question about this encounter as Polanski was arrested and confessed to the charges. He thought he was going to receive probation and timed served for a guilty plea, but the judge was reported to have changed his mind and was planning to reject the plea and give Polanski prison time for all charges. This would result in up to 50 years in jail and what amounted to life in prison. Polanski would not serve this sentence so he fled the country to France where he would not be extradited. 

The charges are still pending and there is no statute of limitations on rape in the United States, so Polanski is on a list of people that if found outside of certain countries will be immediately sent back to the U.S. to face charges. He has dual citizenship in France and Poland; both countries do not extradite citizens. He went on to make one of his best works, a film called Tess, while in Europe. It was a great success and Polanski was nominated for Best Director. The film ended up winning three Academy Awards (none for Polanski). So it seemed that this acclaimed director would live in France and hope that things would blow over. He settled a civil suit in court with the girl and she went on to marry and says she forgives Polanski. But it didn’t end...

Because the woman was in the U.S. and Polanski was not, she was harassed by the press to speak out and tell her story. She reported that the media did much more harm to her and her family than Polanski did. That is a very strong statement considering the charges. Things finally cooled down somewhat when Polanski married an actress from one of his films, Emmanuelle Seignor in 1989. The couple have two kids together and things were apparently going fine in France. 

Things remained well through the 90s although nothing Polanski did got much attention. It seemed he would simply live out his life quietly in France. Then in 1999, he came out with a film called The Ninth Gate that garnered attention since it starred the very popular Johnny Depp. Polanski was back on his game and he directed and produced a film called The Pianist. It stars Adrian Brody and told the story of a Polish-Jewish composer who survived the concentration camps because of goodwill received from German officers that appreciated his work. It is a masterpiece and earned Polanski the award for Best Director. He could not accept the award in person because he would be arrested, so Harrison Ford accepted it on his behalf and took it to him in France. A strange little detail about this is that The Pianist was also up for best picture, but stirrings about Polanski’s past were brought up by a competing producer to throw the award. There is no real proof of this, but the man said to have done this was quite powerful in Hollywood at the time. Ironically, that man who was said to remind people of old rape charges was none other than Harvey Weinstein. I don’t have proof of this, but it is an interesting story. One of those “I heard it is said that” kind of things from TMZ. 

Anyway, these reminders had people trying to interview Polanski and his wife about the past and he basically said that people needed to move past it. This does not tend to go over very well with the American public or the legal system and Polanski was arrested while in Switzerland and held in Zurich. Public sentiment in America, France, and Poland leaned towards Polanski being sent to America to face trial. The Swiss judge denied extradition and Polanski was sent back to France. There were requests in 2014 by US courts that Poland send Polanski to stand trial since there was question concerning the conduct of the original judge in Polanski’s case. It was believed that Polanski would be given some form of probation, but it also meant he could travel. Polish courts ruled that Polanski had served his punishment and should not have to face U.S. courts again. In 2016, it was presented by Polish officials that no amount of time could account for the crime of rape, but the decision of the lower court was held. 

In 2018, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences removed Polanski as a member. Strangely, that same year, they offered a membership to his wife (who loudly said no).

So the final say about how to feel about Polanski and his works lies firmly on the individual. Here is all the information about the trial that can keep it nice and ambiguous for you. The judge, the lead prosecutor, and the LA County Deputy DA at the time all admitted bias against Polanski. He would not have gotten a fair trial and would likely have ended up in prison for life. The prosecutor said later in an interview for a documentary that he was not surprised at all that Polanski left and it would have been a media circus. Polanski paid the victim almost a million dollars in civil settlement money and she said she doesn’t want to see any further prosecution. Okay. In 2017, a website run by Matan Uziel was sued by Polanski for libel when it was posted that 5 other women had come forward and accused Polanski of sexual assault. Polanski did not show up in court so Uziel was dismissed of charges. Uziel requested specifically that the cases not be dropped so that Polanski could not try and sue him at a future date. It is true that, in 2010, an English actress accused Polanski of “forcing himself” on her during filming of the movie Pirates. In 2017, a Swiss woman accused Polanski of raping her in the 70s when she was only 15. The same month, another woman accused him of assaulting her in 1975 when she was only 10. Finally, in 2019, a former actress model from France said that Polanski violently raped her at a Swiss chalet in 1975.

So what can you say about the man? His early life was tragedy and misery. The loss of his wife and child was horrific. He seemed like he was in a very bad place in the 70s. I don’t want to give credence to accusation without proof, but it can be sure that he committed at least one sexual assault of an under aged girl. He ran from his trial because he knew it would not be fair, but he was still never held accountable in a court of law for what he did. He has been forced to stay in Poland and France, but he is wealthy with a wife and kids, never seeing the jail time for what he did. And if it is true that he has committed other crimes like this, then he needs to be in jail. But could he ever get a fair day in court at this point? The man is 87 and will likely die soon, likely before any sentencing could occur. Also, how reliable is testimony from any parties about things that happened between 40-50 years ago? Everything he is accused of seems to have happened after the death of Sharon Tate and before his marriage to his current wife, so it seems like his behavior was linked to his state of mind and he is no longer in that state. That may explain things but it does not forgive them.

I don’t know. This is probably why I chose psychology instead of law enforcement or criminal justice. Trying to decide if someone has adequately paid for crimes they have committed is not my specialty. It will be a moot point soon enough because he will be dead. So what do we do with the guy? He has encountered both great suffering and great joy in his life. He as also caused great suffering and great joy. I guess it is more about how he will be remembered at this point. I would be curious to hear what others think. 

[voyd-is-in-a-portal]

How to End Up Being an Inventor (In 5 Actions).

We consulted with numerous expert inventors to boil down the tricks of the craft. Some have made jobs out of an invention, others have found markets. If you're sitting on an idea that might be the next terrific American invention, below's your playbook.

1. Cultivate an Idea.

The record of the invention is studded with one-hit marvels, inventors whose solitary blockbuster suggestion made them a fortune. However one of the most prolific inventors can not switch off the idea maker. They are also troubled as well as creative. Inventors just see life's many obstacles in a different way than the average person, according to medical-devices inventor Robert Fischell. "The key to inventing is the awareness that a problem is a trigger from which an invention can be created," says Fischell, who holds more than 200 patents for advancements such as an implantable heart defibrillator and also enhanced stents. "When I'm in the operating room as well as a doctor tosses a device against the wall in irritation, I claim, 'Great, here's an opportunity.'".

Fischell, who at the elevation of his profession filed a new patent application every six weeks, wastes no time in determining whether his most recent concept satisfies the patent test of being brand-new, beneficial, and also nonobvious. He goes right to the U.S. Patent as well as Hallmark Workplace's database of released patents (patft.uspto.gov) and performs a search. "If you review a patent, as well as someone, has currently resolved the issue, after that you're still an inventor. You just arrived late," he says.

If, after an initial search, your idea verifies unique, after that continue developing it. Be reasonable concerning what you're obtaining right into. "The moment you commit will be dual what you believe it will be, as well as the buck amounts you devote will be 4 times what you assumed," Leatherman states.

Make drafts, execute examinations, expand principles, and keep comprehensive notes. Patent lawyers suggest their customers preserve a visit a completely bound notebook that obtains stamped by a notary public frequently. A logbook becomes essential in cases before the U.S. Patent and also Trademark Workplace including similar technologies, as the burden of proof is up to patent applicants to demonstrate that they were the initial to conceive of an invention.

At this onset in the video game, your investment of personal time and money will have been minor compared with what is around the bend. Before the case, you'll need to ask some hard questions about both your concept as well as on your own: Is my idea significantly different than any that precede it? Exists a large market for the product? Can it be developed and made at a reasonable expense? That is the client, and why should they get my product as well as not a competitor's? Am I prepared to devote myself fully to making this concept do well?

Inventors who have been via the process care not to undervalue the psychological and mental determination called for. "If you can't afford mentally and intellectually to fail if your vanity would certainly be wiped out after that don't do it.". see also InventHelp TV Commercial

2. Develop a Model.

With the schedule of powerful computing and computer-assisted layout software application like Autodesk Inventor as well as SolidWorks 3D CAD, inventors today live in what Kamen describes as "the utmost sweet-shop." The earliest versions of Kamen's first invention, a wearable mixture pump that provides specific dosages of medicines such as insulin, sprang to life out a computer system display yet in a workshop set up in the basement of his parents' home on Long Island, N.Y. Kamen was a teenager at the time.

Also when made in a highly exact digital CAD atmosphere, an item ultimately has to leap to the genuine globe in the kind of a model. Depending on the materials entailed and the complexity of an invention, the expense of making a high-quality prototype can empty a financial institution account as well as compel an inventor to look for financing at an extremely early stage.

Tim Leatherman supports taking a DIY technique. During an experimental phase lasting three years, he constructed prototypes of his groundbreaking multitool from cardboard, wood, as well as steel till he picked advanced layout. "By collaborating with my hands," he says, "I found out about barriers to performance as well as manufacturability.".

When you have your prototype, it's time to repair your invention. Obtain outside your head and go-to experts in the field, Fischell suggests. "Ask, 'Do you believe my suggestion has business benefit? Would certainly you utilize it?' Make them authorize a privacy arrangement," he says. For inventors, the possibility of copyright burglary is very actual, but way too much caution can become immobilizing. Privacy, or nondisclosure, the contract permits you to field-test in confidence.

Responses from Mario Salazar's target audience-- woodworkers-- compelled the Colorado Springs inventor to adjust his digital miter gauge. The mechanical prototype he constructed in the cellar with a blowpipe, an oscilloscope, and also a milling maker noticed eBay worked efficiently as well as felt ideal to Salazar, yet the tradespersons wanted it bigger as well as much more inexpensive. "You can't fall for your invention," he states. "Obtain responses and also make alterations accordingly.".

In the agitated company world, a patent protects the inventor by providing the unique right to leave out others from making, making use of, or offering his invention for 20 years. "When other people see you making cash, your patent will be the only methods you have for keeping control of the market," claims Lonnie Johnson, founder of Johnson ElectroMechanical types of equipment as well as the inventor of the Super Soaker water weapon. Follow inventhelp for more advice:

https://www.linkedin.com/company/inventhelp

https://twitter.com/inventhelp

3. Submit a Patent.

Patent law is made complex things, so get an experienced patent lawyer to write and also file your patent application. Anticipate to pay in between $3000 as well as $10,000. "Work with a patent lawyer who additionally has a level in the field you're making an application for a patent in and who understands your market," Salazar encourages.

A knowledgeable lawyer can prepare a wide patent that safeguards an invention against violation from any angle. In the case of Richard Phillips, proprietor of International Survival, his well-crafted patent application made it impossible for anybody to replicate the slim, shock-absorbing material he developed for his protective paintball vest. "My legal representative spread out the patent out thus far over and below my laminated foam product's residential properties that a competitor's vest would certainly have to be so hefty the wearer couldn't walk approximately light that the vest falls apart when struck," Phillips states.

On standard, patent authorization takes 3 years and may call for going back as well as forth several times with patent examiners. From the moment a patent application arrives at the USPTO up until it is either provided or abandoned, an invention is covered by patent-pending standing. In the situation of John Marsden, that created Pour 'N Shop, a bartending system of plastic containers, and also put spouts for beverage mixers, a pending patent amounted to a suit of paper armor.

According to Salazar, any kind of inventor has to be all set to do battle. "I'll have my attorney send out a cease-and-desist letter if somebody infringes on my patent. As well as in the end, a patent is just as great as the thickness of your pocketbook.".

4. Examine the Market.

When the patent application is in total, the inventor needs to change from developing a suggestion of developing a service. Rare is the innovative brilliant behind an invention that likewise has business chops-- or the interest-- to look after the manufacture, advertising, and also selling of his production. Even the brightest innovative minds can drop victim to the countless rip-offs and also doubtful invention-promotion companies whose advertisements clutter the Internet. Many expert inventors urge care with any kind of attire that requests for cash upfront to shop your suggestions about.

Tim Leatherman built up important know-how in business and also production by joining with Steve Berliner. John Marsden, the Pour 'N Store designer, partnered early on with service school grad Ed Harrigan. "If I had not had Ed, I probably would not have made it," he says.

Marketing research studies-- perform your own or appoint a market research company-- will certainly provide you data concerning market patterns and customer demographics. There is no substitute, nevertheless, for putting your invention in front of potential consumers as well as manufacturers, providers, and distributors to get a sense of its market value. For the inventor, this is an anxious time.

Salazar is a big believer in showing your items at trade shows. "You'll figure out who is doing what, whether you'll be able to contend and if somebody wants to get what you have," he claims. "However you're additionally dropping your cabinets and every person will see what you've obtained. Your item had better be 95 percent complete. Be ready to answer concerns: Just how huge is the market? That's mosting likely to buy it?".

5. Sell It or Make It.

Inventors make cash in two means: collecting aristocracies by certifying the right to produce their invention or production, distributing, and marketing the invention themselves. Louis J. Foreman, owner, and also the primary executive of Enventys, an item style as well as a design firm in Charlotte, N.C., and writer of The Independent Inventor's Handbook, has personally encountered that problem several times as the holder of 10 licenses as well as has encouraged many inventors as a lead court on the PBS program Everyday Edisons.

Then it's time to ask yourself one more round of questions: First, exists enough upside potential to merit the threat of bringing the item to market on your own? "Consider opportunity costs also," Foreman says. "If you have to quit a job that pays $100,000, can you make enough to counter that?" Second, do you have the financial resources to pull it off? If you don't, then where is the money most likely to originate from? And lastly, do you have the competence to run an organization? "It's one point to come up with a remarkable item, however, are you comfy marketing it, can you distribute it, restore it as well as satisfy orders if Walmart offers you a 5-million-piece purchase order?" Supervisor claims.

No question licensing is the less complicated path to getting an invention to market. It requires less dedication of time as well as up-front resources and frees inventors to do what they do best: invent. However, expedience comes with an expense. Royalty prices on patents-- created on the list price, production run, as well as various other variables-- average less than 2 to 7 percent of retail sales. Still, for a first-time inventor brief on funds and also know-how, a licensing contract can be the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

[silentauroriamthereal]

Author interview tag

I was tagged by @therealsaintscully! Thanks, you! :)

Name: SilentAuror

Fandoms: Just Sherlock, though I also follow some Old Guard blogs. :)

Where you post: AO3. Though I was almost knocked over the other day when I got a comment on an old HP fic over on skyehawke.com! It’s been literal YEARS since I got a review on anything over there! :P 

Most popular multi-chapter fic: Against the Rest of the World for sure. :)

Favourite story you’ve written so far: With 87 posted fics and 2 more currently on the go, I can’t possibly answer that. That’s cruel. Lol. 

Fic you were nervous to post: This, on the other hand, is easy, haha! Three stories, all for very different reasons: 

1. The A.G.R.A Complex. This was my first Freebatch fic and I thought I might well be burnt at the stake for even writing any RPF. The notion for this story caught my muses’ attention, though, and they eventually forced me to write it against my will. I can’t be held responsible. Lol. It still amazes me that people continue to read it to this day. The notion: Martin and Benedict are friends. There’s a car accident and Martin suffers a fairly mild brain injury. While in his coma, dreams the entire first three seasons of Sherlock, which in this universe, haven’t happened. The nature of the brain injury is such that he keeps shifting mentally between the reality of who he and Benedict (and Amanda) are, and seeing himself and everyone else as their characters in the Sherlock universe. When I posted it, I intended it to be left up to the reader whether to see it as kind of an AU to actual reality, or else a prequel to the filming of Sherlock. When I finally decided to write a sequel, it meant that I had to be the one to make that clear, which made it a prequel. It became a three-part series, with the second part set during and just after the filming of series 3 (the dodgiest in the moral sense, since it dances around and into real life events), and then the third story takes place ten years later. 

2. The Final Proof. Why? Easy. Major character death, and it’s Sherlock. That’s clear from about the first sentence, I think. I had written At the Heart of it All, which features Sherlock running an experiment using the hearts of people who lived lives where they had loved and been loved, and people who hadn’t in an effort to prove his own ability to love to John. He says something at the end of that story about wishing he could see his own heart at the end of their life to see which of the hearts his own resembled by then. And then my muses, my terrible, terrible muses said, “hey... you could write that: you know: Sherlock at the very end of his life, making John promise to look at his heart after he’s died, and complete his experiment.” I, like, teared up just at the thought, and honestly, I cried for most of the writing of that story. I’m assured that about 99% of the people who have read it have also cried throughout, so... sorry. Yeah. 

3. Scars. Why? Easy, again: the entire story is riddled with gaslighting and other types of emotional abuse and mind-fuckery, and an actual rape scene. It was painful to the point of being interally corrosive to write, but I still felt it was a story I needed to tell. I did my homework on this one, consulted multiple therapists who work specifically in the field of men who have been absued (emotionally, physically, sexually) by female partners. I thought no one would read it. I thought I might lose half my followers on tumblr. But I still wrote it. It still amazes me that people read it, even more when they actually like it, and still like me after. Lol. 

How you choose your titles: Hmm... each title genesis is different, I would say! Sometimes it’s a general theme of the story, sometimes it’s a specific concept or single word, occasionally (but not often) it’s a song title. Sometimes it’s another language, particularly Latin. In The A.G.R.A Complex, the title of the story is also the name that the neurologists given to the brain injury Martin experiences. Vena Cava is titled for the name of the vein that Mary’s bullet punctured in Sherlock’s heart, based on a medical analysis I had read. Scars takes its theme from both Sherlock’s external scars from what he went through during his time away, and John’s internal scars from Mary’s emotional abuse. I also have a whole series of (unrelated) flower-themed stories: The Green Carnations comes from ACD era coding for homosexuality. The Yellow Poppies is the story I wrote after the deleted scene about Magnussen’s hospital visit came out, which features both he and Mary as dual villains, and yellow poppies placed in Sherlock’s room as a threat from one or the other of them. The White Lotuses has a leitmotif of Hinduism and slow-blooming self-awareness and romance. The Red Roses is a Molly POV where she helps Sherlock and John get together in spite of her own feelings, and The Wisteria Tree is an amnesia story that has Sherlock forget the past six years of his life, including the five years that he’s been married to John, and how they find their way back together in spite of that. Rosa Felicia - bonus, both a flower name AND Latin, lol! - is a coming-of-age story about Rosie at the age of 19. Where My Demons Hide is a mid-series 4 story that I wrote after The Lying Detective aired, but before The Final Problem did, and is the title of an Imagine Dragons song. Pater Noster is Latin for the title of the Lord’s Prayer in Latin, but also quite literally just means “our father”, and is a story that centres around the events surrounding the death (murder) of John and Harry’s father. You get the gist. 

Do you outline: I always say that one should know how a story begins, how it ends, and at least a few of the major points between those two events. So yes, but loosely. I think that over-plotting kills creativity. It’s not an essay. But even essays need space to grow. 

Complete: 105 stories back in my skyehawke days, the vast majority of which are HP, totalling in about 1.5 million words. 87 stories in the Sherlock fandom (though those include my 4 Freebatch fics), totalling in over 2.3 million words now. 

In progress: I have two stories currently pending: a Christmas story called The Secret of Hazel Grange, and a trauma-based, co-sleeping fic called Nocturne.

Coming soon/not yet started: I never comment about fics I haven’t yet started. Might curse the entire process, lol. 

Do you accept prompts: No, alas. Neither prompts nor commissions. While I’m constantly desperately poor, it takes something out of the writing process for me once it becomes a job. I just feel like that’s not what fanfic is about for me. No judgement to anyone else who does write for commissions, whatsoever - we all have our own process! For me, I’m happy (make that incredibly grateful!) to have donations or supporters through my Patreon (eep: x), but writing to order just doesn’t quite jive for me. I also don’t take prompts, not because I don’t want them, but because I have such a huge backlog of my own ideas that I’ll never get to as it is. There will never be enough time to write all the fics I want to write! That said, don’t think that you can’t still suggest your ideas. My “official policy” (lol) is that I don’t take prompts (for the aforementioned backlog reason), but that doesn’t mean that if you do send me one, my muses won’t seize upon it and force me to write it. You never know. I certainly don’t, at least. :P 

Upcoming story you are most excited to write: I’m super excited by the notion of actually getting my Christmas fic finished by Christmas. Lol. Here’s hoping!! 

Tagging: Anyone who reads this and is a writer, or thinking about becoming one. You’ve been tagged! 

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Breaking the Curse

Chapter 37: A Normal Routine

He did what he had to do. He stuck to his schedule and the shadows, trying to make it so that no one would ever know that anything had changed in his life. He tried to make it so that no one would notice he was secretly running what was probably the greatest spy circle that Storybrooke had ever seen. It was something to be proud of, but he was old enough that he had no intention of bragging about it. This game was tenuous enough as it was. There was no need to make it worse. So, the day after making his deal with Jefferson, the day of Miner's Day, he did what he always did.

He got up. He took his shower. He made his breakfast. And he went into the shop.

He doubted that anyone noticed.

Miner's Day was always a small uneventful holiday anyway, and with one of the town currently missing, those he encountered seemed nearly as dreary as the weather. No one was in a festive mood. Except perhaps him.

His plan was working. Call after call informed him of that.

The first calls he received were from the cousins he'd set to watch David and Emma. Kathryn's disappearance had gone public and his little bird friends informed him that David had been released for questioning shortly after Emma brought him in. It didn't surprise him. At the moment, Kathryn was missing, but legally she didn't have anything to hold David on. With no body or physical evidence of Kathryn's death, she could have crashed her car and then wandered out of Storybrooke all on her own. Frankly, right now, even if Emma did think she was dead, she didn't have any clues as to who had done it. Sure, it could have been David, or Mary Margaret, or even Regina. But it could also have been Sara Fischer; it could have been Granny. Hell, for all Emma knew at the moment, Kathryn had crashed her car and been kidnapped by a man who could also turn into a bird. For all Emma knew…

Regina knew more than Emma did, even if she didn't necessarily know better. He hadn't spoken to Regina since all this had happened, but he had a pretty clear indication that she was pleased with his work.

The morning after Miner's Day, he got up, got dressed, made himself breakfast, and went to the shop. Shortly after arriving, he received a call from none other than Emma Swan.

"How is it that in the middle of all this the DA is dropping charges against you?" she shrieked into her phone."

"Oh?" he prompted.

"Moe French suddenly claims that you two were up in the woods, talking about the robbery when he slipped. Spencer doesn't believe it, but without Moe's testimony he says he doesn't have enough to charge you, so he's dropping the case."

"Well, that sounds right," he sighed as if he were bored but far from innocent. "It's not unlike what I told you, if you'll recall."

"That's not what I saw."

"What you saw is irrelevant," he dismissed. "If Mr. French is willing to sign a sworn statement, then you can't really be sure what you saw that night. It was rather dark if memory serves."

"Yeah…funny how Moe's truck appears to be back in front of his shop all of a sudden," she snarked.

He smiled. She was fun to debate with. "Almost as funny as my decision to put a five-year extension on his loan. One of life's mysteries, I suppose."

"Yeah…"

"Though I do find it odd that we have a woman missing, and you are taking the time to have this conversation. I rather think you've got more on your hands at the moment than I do."

She hadn't responded kindly to that comment but rather hung the phone up without saying good-bye.

The next person he heard from later that afternoon. It was none other than Dove himself, but he called with news that he hadn't quite expected. He thought he'd update him with news on Kathryn or any problems, but it turned out all was quiet on that front.

"She's upset, but she finally stopped pounding at the door, and so far, no one seems to know we're here."

"Good, keep it that way."

"I've got more you might want to know about."

"I'm all ears."

"Ruby Lucas, Widow Lucas' granddaughter-"

"I know her."

"Right, Will called me just after three. He was just starting his shift when Ruby came in. Apparently, she quit last night. Emma's hired her as some sort of assistant; she was fetching lunch. Just thought you might want to know."

Indeed he did, not just because at the end of the day he was paying the boy to look for handy information like that, but also because it was an unexpected change he hadn't prepared for. Immediately he'd called his man watching after Emma, who confirmed that the girl was in fact staying at the office, but he hadn't figured out yet why she'd been there or what capacity she was working. Frankly, it wasn't until Ruby had left the station, come back with food, and then gotten into the bug with Emma again that he realized she was doing more than just "hanging out," as he'd put it.

He grit his teeth together. The news almost made him miss Dove. He wouldn't have thought to not report it to him. But he was the commander of a tiny army at the moment. Dove was his best, most experienced soldier, he had to put him where he was most useful, and right now, that was with Kathryn. Babysitting her might be the easiest of jobs, but it was the most crucial of the jobs as well. He couldn't risk anyone else taking his post. In the end, he simply told Stan to keep an eye on everything and let him know what was happening.

What was happening…that was the question. It was a question that Stan seemed incapable of answering, not while he kept his distance. He'd followed Emma and Ruby out of town only to watch them stop near the woods; two had gone in, three came out. They'd emerged with David. It was only once they were at the hospital that he'd called to inform him of this. In his own words, David had looked "disoriented." Emma had kept a hand on his back as she led him to the car and helped him into the backseat, the pair had exchanged a glance, and then they'd ended up in the hospital. Emma had taken David in, Ruby left in the car, and not long after Regina had arrived. That was all the information that he had at the time. When he hung up the phone, he sat down at his wheel and started to spin because he could think of no other way to relieve his stress.

This was a delicate operation. These first steps were tedious, and while things were going the way he wanted them to right now, there were unexpected wrenches now thrown into the mix. David, disoriented in the woods, that was one. Regina at the hospital, that was another. Ruby was another. He didn't know what she was doing, didn't know why Emma was using her suddenly. Worst of all, he didn't have any eyes on her. This was the most important step in the process. He couldn't afford any problems or things not done properly. But the only person he could think to send to watch Ruby was the cousin watching Sidney. He didn't want to do that. He had plans for Sidney, or rather he knew that eventually, Regina would have plans for Sidney. He wanted an eye on him, especially if Regina was somewhere that she wasn't supposed to be. He tried to think of a way to get himself into the conversation, a way to insert himself early into the middle of all this, but he came up blank. He had to stay where he was. He had to wait for his opportunity to get involved properly. Besides, even if he did send someone out after her, he had no idea where Ruby had gone. Stan had taken eyes off of her once she left the hospital; she could be anywhere, the police station, Granny's, the woods, anywhere.

So he went home, spun at his wheel as Stan reported Emma's return to the station, and then returned to the hospital before going back to the apartment for the night. He went to bed. He woke up the next morning, got dressed, made himself breakfast, and was just about to go into the shop when his cell phone rang, and he took a call from Dove.

"Hey, just letting you know, I think Mary Margaret is about to be arrested for murder," was his greeting. He quickly pulled out his keys and let himself into the quiet shop before responding.

"What makes you think that?"

"Will Scarlet just called. Ruby is back at Granny's as of this morning. She quit working with Emma yesterday after…she found a heart in the woods yesterday. And Will well…he's got a friend, who has a friend, who worked at the mirror, who knows Sidney Glass and…Will says Emma got the heart's DNA tested and the results are pending, but there were fingerprints on the box that the heart was found in and they're a match for Mary Margaret."

Well, of course, her fingerprints were on it. The box belonged to Mary Margaret. He'd had his goons bury it along with something very special. "No sign of anything else?"

"No." So the shovel shard hadn't been discovered yet. Probably because Emma had sent Ruby and not gone herself, that was one of those problems he hadn't accounted for. But he tried not to panic. Ruby wasn't working the case anymore, Emma was, so there was still hope she'd go out there and review the crime scene.

"And the DNA evidence is still pending?" he confirmed once more, trying to manage exactly how much time he could give Emma before he had to push her in the direction of the crime scene.

"Not back yet, but…I called my cousin, he knows what to do."

He breathed a sigh of relief. If he was to be the mob boss, then Dove was his second in command and doing an excellent job at it. He was the only one of his cousins that actually knew the entire of his plan, or at least what he wanted him to know about it. He was suddenly incredibly grateful for the boy.

"That's good work, Mr. Dove. Very good work. I'm appreciative of the work you are doing on this. It's part of that complicated game I mentioned, and so far, everything is happening as it should…more or less." He meant to hang up, but seeing as how Dove seemed to have contacts that his cousins didn't, he sighed. "Call me when you hear the DNA has been processed."

Not long after that, Mary Margaret was arrested. The call came toward the end of the day. Stan reported soon after Dove's call that Emma had gone into the town to the pet store. Mary Margaret had gone there just after school got out, probably to check on how David was coping with his beloved wife's disappearance. When Emma emerged from the store, Mary Margaret had been cuffed. Emma had taken her back to the apartment, surprisingly, not the jail, but Stan reported quickly that it appeared to be a courtesy. When they both emerged, Mary Margaret was wearing comfortable clothes. Furthermore, after they'd stayed in the station for a while, Regina had stopped by, but then Emma had returned to the apartment. Another call came in after she left. It was Stan again.

"She's going back to the station now. She had a big bag with her when she came out. I think she might have found the knife."

Well, it wasn't DNA or a shovel, but it was evidence against her. It was still early, but he was tired of sitting on his hands, waiting for something to happen. It was time for the Dark One to jump into the fray.

[gochasethesunset]

From Concept To Patent To Successful Product

What To Do With Your Invention Idea

Eventually in your life, you have possibly had among those "aha" moments.

You understood there was an imperfection, something missing out on, or a possibility to develop a much better means of achieving something.

Although every person has these moments, few latch onto their suggestion and recognize that there is an invention trying to reveal itself.

Also, much less aim to create that suggestion and patent it.

All that to say: Developers are individuals.

They're not superheroes. They're not always abundant to start and also they're not necessarily of some intergalactic INTELLIGENCE degree that makes your above-average knowledge seem equivalent to a rock.

No ... innovators are just individuals. Like you.

No matter of background, IQ, or superpowers, successful creators do have certain typical natural high qualities.

Among those high qualities is drive.

They have the drive to be relentless as well as follow up non-stop with each step in the invention procedure.

Successful inventors are hungry for success - they envision it and press themselves to discover the path toward it.

The daily ideator who puts action and also intent behind his suggestion with this level of drive is most likely to become a successful capitalist (given the item is feasible, of course).

It takes place constantly on Shark Tank right in the public eye, and it takes place thousands of thousands of times per year somewhere else.

If you believe you're simply the "daily ideator" and also do not have what it takes to press your concept via to success, take a look at the video clip listed below, "From Suggestion to Cash," an interview with Rick Receptacle.

Rick is among Shark Storage tank's most successful business owners. He created viewers, a magnetic clip that safeguards analysis glasses onto your individual. also check out the help of invention help

It was a basic suggestion created from the truth that Rick kept shedding his analysis glasses. Invention concepts are commonly ideal in front of your face - in this instance, essentially.

Taking Invention Suggestions To Success

If you have ever before googled anything related to patenting an invention suggestion, you were most likely inundated with advertising and marketing messages and advertisements for days, weeks, and maybe even months following your search.

Just remember this: You can not patent a suggestion.

Gasp! Yet wait ... I maintain seeing ads as well as firms that inform me, "Patent your invention idea quickly!" and more.

Yes, proper, but it is not this first idea that you would certainly seek to immediately patent.

The initial idea about how you will produce, fix, or improve something requires to morph to become a real invention. You'll have to do some job ... you'll require a few of that drive to get there. You can also get help with invention

The truth is that your preliminary idea could be an invention as well as it could be patentable, yet you require to do some surrounding as well as a thorough study to ensure a couple of things:

Initially, That your idea addresses a problem and works;

Second, nobody has already invented it (by carrying out a prior art patent search);.

Third, your suggestion is not apparent. This is tricky and also a specialist who is experienced in the art or field of your invention idea has to eventually identify if your idea is "nonobvious"

The Adversary Remains In Your Suggestion's Information

When you can define your idea in wonderful enough information, the suggestion after that goes beyond to one more level. It comes to be the start of your invention.

Rick Receptacle's suggestion was easy: "I need to stop losing my analysis glasses.".

He included information to that idea, enough to ultimately think of readers, his invention. Now I'm not Rick, yet allow's go through what that may have appeared like.

One night, Rick was being in his love seat catching up on "Freeway To Sell.".

A commercial came on, and that was Rick's sign to pick up his tablet computer as well as catch up on the information of the day.

As he clicked the CNN application he understood he didn't have his reading glasses.

He frisked his lap fruitless.

He viewed on the coffee table; absolutely nothing. Nightstand; no-go. Where are those checking out glasses?

Inventors, this is what's called a "pain point.".

If you're actively seeking concepts for brand-new inventions, they are all over - you simply have to maintain your eyes peeled for the discomfort points.

Exactly how do you recognize it's a discomfort point?

Great concern, easy solution.

If you feel annoyed incidentally something functions or by something that maintains happening (like shedding your analysis glasses while you're viewing TV), think of your concern on a larger scale. Do you believe more people are shedding their glasses? If indeed, after that continue!

What's next?

Well, Rick needed to detail the issue as well as consider just how to solve it. He did this with solid documentation as well as a thorough focus being paid to it daily.

In his case, the solution was magnetized. Currently, did Rick invent the magnet? No, not.

An additional idea: You can utilize existing items or inventions as an item of your remedy. Yet as you are detailing your idea, you must specify precisely just how it is utilized and why your invention is still one-of-a-kind.

Documenting Your Invention Concept.

The recording is a vital component of the creating procedure.

At some point, you may need to count on your documentation throughout situations such as legal process or establishing or preserving legal rights to your invention.

You have to record your activities correctly - your paperwork may someday need to be valued in court and you must keep that in mind as you're working on it.

Due to the implications of your idea documentation, the most effective technique - and essentially a should - is to record whatever in an innovator's journal. This ought to be a bound publication with phoned number pages and every web page and also note need to be dated

Advantages Of Invention Idea Paperwork.

There are some benefits to recording your suggestions as you relocate through the stages of the invention process.

1) Evidence - Every patent should divulge the innovators of the concept, and also your journal can show your "inventorship".

2) Expedite the patent procedure - A well-documented invention idea aids improve the process when you fill in your patent application. This is a means you can conserve time and money in the future - 2 very important assets.

3) Assume and re-think your idea - Writing forces you to analyze your tasks and concepts to clarify what it is that you have developed. This process can evoke further ideas on how to change or enhance your preliminary vision.

4) Sanity - Documentation aids you remember what you have done and also considered in the past and also prevents unnecessary redundancies in your job.

5) Taxes - If the moment you have invested ideating and creating is part of a company, you may have the ability to look for tax reductions for the expenses that you incur. You ought to speak to your accounting professional concerning whether or not this relates to you.

File Your Idea With this Information.

The objective of describing out your suggestion for an invention is to broaden so deeply right into the concept of why your idea is such a fantastic invention, as well as what it addresses, that any individual that reads it will completely understand the description and agree with you that your suggestion requires to be an invention; it can much better the world, even if in some small way.

When you have sufficient information to accomplish this, you are after that going to be ready to patent your concept ... or your invention ... it's a type of both at this moment.

Here are some of the information you'll require your concept. Make this you are 'at minimum' checklist as well as, based upon your invention as well as category, increase upon it as essential: also check https://www.glassdoor.com/Reviews/InventHelp-Reviews-E152162.htm

1. A stellar description of what your suggestion is and what it does (you will require this for the Requirements part of your patent application so it isn't for naught or flair - do a fantastic work). Below is a fantastic rundown of what your summary can include: Title or name of your suggestion; the technological field as well as the group it falls under; background information on prior art, previous licenses or licenses pending (in various other words, just how have others attempted to resolve something like this); the trouble or test your concept will certainly attend to as well as just how you will certainly address it in different ways and effectively (because your suggestion requires to be one-of-a-kind); an example or two of usage situations for your suggestion.

2. Illustrations, layouts, as well as illustrations of exactly how it functions and also what it resembles. Measurements are good right here too so all can imagine and also conceive the size of the real-life model. You can describe your invention's representations in your description. As well as remember this suggestion: Even more is more. The even more pictures and also representations you have, the far better you will certainly see your idea, as well as the much better someone else can translate what your suggestion is and does. (By law, you will certainly need a minimum of one attracting to request the patent).

3. Try to list products in as much deepness as feasible. Talk concerning the details of each part and also exactly how they fit together as well as function together.

4. Various "personifications," or versions, of the invention idea. The hard truth is, not everyone will see points your method. Your concept, albeit proprietary to you, can be changed. You'll intend to account for the potential variations of your invention. The main factor is simple: If you do not describe variations of your invention and someone else has essentially the very same invention however various means of creating it, after that it is no more your invention (particularly with the First to Submit (FTF) laws).

5. Days. Every little thing needs to have a day. Every suggestion, every representation, every idea, and also every time you go back as well as erase believed from a previous day - sign as well as date whatever.

6. The target market of your invention. You'll intend to think about your end-users, your customers, as well as any individual else in the circle of impact. If you have developed a kind of apparel, you're listing out that wears it, but additionally, that might produce it, that may buy it for the individual who wears it, what it takes on - any person you assume your product pertains to.

If you've completed this listing for your suggestion, you're well on your means of filing a patent as well as having an invention of your very own. If you would certainly like to assist with obtaining a patent or submitting your application, allow us to recognize what we can do to sustain you.

My tip is not to hurry this part of the process.

Complete the workouts, take some time away, and after that revisit what you created. Your detailed summary and layouts must make your idea implementable by anybody that uses it.

Keep in mind, when you file your patent you can't make changes. The application you submit becomes your patent.

You want to be double and also three-way certain you have the information you require around your concept in that application.

[yourkdramaanalyst]

A REVIEW OF MY FAVORITE NETFLIX ORIGINAL KOREAN DRAMA: HOSPITAL PLAYLIST

https://t.co/fkqOasA6Tk

Hello, K-Drama fans! I stepped out of Tumblr for more or less than a month. It's a good thing that I didn't forget I have a blog here. Lol. I've been busy so I wasn't able to cross out most of the dramas on my list. But the drama I am about to review right now is actually a series that I already crossed out of my list twice! So what made me watch Hospital Playlist for the second time?

• Introduction to the Drama

Short Gist:

It's about five friends who used to be school mates in medical school, who are now working at the same hospital.

Director Shin Won Ho and screen writer Lee Woo Jung previously worked on the famous Reply series (which are a work of art!)

The five main characters are (from left to right) Jo Jung Seok, Jeon Mi Do, Jung Kyoung Ho, Yoo Yeon Seok, and Kim Dae Myung . Quite an interesting line-up, huh?

Yoo Yeon Seok also appeared in many dramas and movies. He's in this industry for 17 years now (if my calculations are correct). He was in dramas Dr. Romantic, Gu Family Book, Reply 1994, etc. Yeon Seok has starred in many medical dramas already.

Jo Jung Seok, an award winning actor, has starred in many dramas and movies. He appeared in dramas The King 2hearts, Oh My Ghost, Jealousy Incarnate, etc. He's a good rom-com and drama actor.

Jung Kyoung Ho has been appearing in the small screen since 2004 and has already landed in many roles. He was in Beating Again, Missing Nine, and Prison Playbook. If you noticed, he was Yoon Seri's ex-boyfriend in Crash Landing On You, which was just a special appearance.

Kim Dae Myung is more of a big screen guy. He has been appearing in movies since 2012. Some of other dramas where he starred are Misaeng: Incomplete Life and The Sound of Your Heart.

The only woman in the main cast is originally a play and musical actress. She's a fresh face in the world of K-drama. Jeon Mi Do had her first role 2 years ago in a drama called Mother. She appeared in a movie called Metamorphosis last year and finally, had her second role this year in Hospital Playlist.

A second season of the drama is to be expected next year. 😉

• The Experience

As I mentioned earlier, I've already watched this drama twice! It's not even that long since I watched this for the first time, and I just finished watching it again.

The first time I watched Hospital Playlist, I didn't know what it was all about. I was actually just having a phase where all I wanted to watch was medical dramas (yes... that's true, even though I am not a med student or anything related) so I clicked on it immediately as soon as all of the episodes were released on Netflix. But as soon as I finished watching the first episode, I couldn't really stop myself from watching more.

Typically, I enjoy watching light and funny dramas but this one is on another level. It has become my favorite Netflix original drama! Until now, I still can't get over it. I can't wait for the next season to be released.

•Points that I Liked About the Drama

https://t.co/OC3HEzU0a4

1. Hospital Playlist tells a lot of story about different people. There are five main characters but the story does not only revolve around them but also tells the story of the people around. This is actually common when it comes to medical dramas since there are a lot of patients. However, in this drama, they didn't just focus on patients but also on the hospital staffs. In fact, there are so many doctors from different departments that are shown here. I got to see more of what's happening during their breaks, how senior doctors look over the interns and residents and other staff, etc. Of course those are not real life scenarios, but it seemed real and made me feel like I am one of them.

2. Light and funny but really heartwarming. It's the kind of drama that will make you laugh and cry at the same time. It's not the slapstick comedy kind of drama but more of a situation-based kind? I don't know if you get it at all, LMAO. Watching it makes you feel like you're just catching up with friends, talking about your daily lives and laughing and reminiscing about the past.

3. Plotless but not nonsensical. It is not a complicated drama which is easy to watch no matter how old or how young you are. It should still be watched chronologically, though, because there are still a lot of stories to follow about each character. There's just no definite goal that was shown in the drama but the way the story was told, it's almost perfect.

4. One of the most realistic medical dramas. There are no exaggerated medical scenes where the doctors have to do impossible things and whatsoever just to save a patient.

https://t.co/Z6U1T2nBI0

5. I love the characters. It's impossible to choose a favorite character! Even the supporting ones are characterized well. Each character is different, that's why even if there are many of them, you won't get lost.

6. It's a medical drama so I learned a lot as well. If you are interested in medicine or currently taking up medicine related programs, Hospital Playlist is a good k-drama option to watch.

https://t.co/xGbTvz4giu

7. The OST is good. I highly recommend this drama if you are a sucker for good OSTs like me. All of the songs here are just covers. I am not familiar with the original songs since they are from the 1990s and early 2000s, but I still enjoyed them. For a month, I've only played Hospital Playlist OST. I'm not even kidding!

https://t.co/p3gGyjAKSS

8. They didn't overdo the romantic scenes. I ship a lot of the characters because there are also side stories like doctors who start to like each other. But none of them are cringey. I had a good time watching some characters' love story as it progresses.

9. There are so many cameos. I won't mention them because it may lead to spoilers but I swear, I love those special appearances!

• The Ending

The ending of the first season was satisfying. There are still unanswered questions, though. That's something to look forward to for the 2nd season. I can't say much about the ending because I know that it's not the final one yet. Still, my heart was contented with the 12 episodes.

•Final Thoughts

Will I watch it again? YES. FOR SURE.

Will I recommend it? YES. WATCH THIS DRAMA RIGHT AWAY OR ADD THIS TO YOUR PENDING LIST IMMEDIATELY.

Rate: 10/10 (for this season only)

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

The reason why it's a 10/10 for me is because I prefer dramas like this, okay? If anyone disagrees with me, you can try to convince me to change my mind but I doubt anything will change. 🤣

•Hospital Playlist Top 5 OST

I really had a hard time picking my top 5 favorite songs because all of them are good. This is a really hard task for me, why did I even do this to myself? Lol. I feel my heart breaking. I. Am. Not. Kidding. So the songs I listed here are not really my top 5, it's rather a proof of my claim that everything is good. ('cos i just can't, i am sorry).

Me to You, You to Me by Mido and Falasol

Lonely Night by Kwon Jin Ah

Introduce me a good person by Joy

Aloha by Cho Jung Seok

In front of city hall at the subway station by Kwak Jin Eon

That's it! There's nothing I don't like about Hospital Playlist and I have no issues, too. If I am to think of one, it would probably be about the release date of the second season because I am dying for it.

So what are your thoughts? 😊 Thank you for reading!

[bytheangell]

Raise a Glass to the Past

(Read on AO3)

Present Day

“I was looking through your files again at work today,” Alec says, leaning his head back against Magnus’ shoulder. They’re both on the sofa, Alec nestled comfortably in the space between Magnus’ legs, leaning against Magnus while Magnus leans back against the cushions. They each hold a glass of white wine after dinner, enjoying the breeze coming in through the open balcony door, listening to the faint sound of rain falling just beyond the wall.  “Again?” Magnus asks, a light laugh chasing his words. “Ran a full Nephilim background check on me before we started dating, didn’t you?” 

Alec knows the words are spoken in jest, but the memories they bring up leave the current Head of the New York Institute biting down on his lower lip, considering his next words carefully. 

“Actually…” Alec starts before stopping abruptly. It’s a strangely personal series of events to explain, even if they all involve Magnus; somehow the idea of telling him about it brings up a lot of conflicting emotions in Alec He’s embarrassed at the guilt he felt for most of his life, at how he thought so much about the man he loves before he ever met him, that this man who changed his entire life from the second they did meet managed to shape so much of it even before that moment, without ever realizing... 

What will Magnus think if he tells him now? 

“Actually, sort of. But not intentionally. See, when I was probably about 5 or 6…” 

---

Alec, age 6 

Alec finds his way once more behind his father’s desk at the New York Institute. There are files up, files that he knows he shouldn’t be reading, but ever since he learned how to string full sentences together he’s absorbed every word he could lay his eyes on. And that includes dossiers left on computer screens in the same room as him while his father runs down to the ops room for a moment to deal with some emergency or another. 

Even kneeling on the large chair his head doesn’t clear the back of it, blocking him from view of anyone passing by the open door. Which is good, because if they did see him he probably wouldn’t get to read the page about a warlock that’s front and center, with a black-and-white photo of a man with spiked hair, slit cat-eyes, and a grin that makes Alec smile back even though he knows the man in the photo isn’t smiling at him. Magnus Bane. Those aren’t words Alec knows, but they’re words he’s heard out loud before. A name. 

His father comes back and scolds him for touching his computer (which, Alec defends, he didn’t technically do, he only read what was already open), before being ordered to re-read the section of the Shadowhunters Codex on Warlocks if he’s so damn interested in them. Alec dutifully slumps out of the chair to obey, his copy of the book marked with dozens of pencil circles of words he doesn’t know to ask about later. He’s only half focused, however, his mind frequently drifting back to the eyes and the smile of the man in the photo.   

---

Present Day

“I was your first Downworlder file. How cute.” There’s a hint of sarcasm to Magnus’ tone, one that Alec doesn’t take personally. He knows the tone of those sorts of files and the reasons why his father might’ve had it up on the computer that day. But there’s also a hint of actual endearment over the idea that Alec remembers that, even now. 

“You were,” Alec confirms. “And I have to admit, as a suggestible youth, I didn’t have the best impression of you at first.” 

“Oh, no?” At this Magnus straights up a bit, shifting behind Alec on the sofa. There’s no turning back now, Alec, realizes, not after piquing Magnus’ curiosity like that. 

“I’m sure you can imagine, but any files the Institute had on you weren’t painted in the most positive of lights…” 

---

Alec, age 8

It isn’t long before the Institute’s records, both on the computer and in the library, become freely available to Alec. He’s reached a point in his training and studies where it’s easier for him to simply look up answers on his own when he can rather than run everything back to Hodge or his parents. Because he stays out of trouble and does what he’s told when he’s told to do it (as much as any kid does, certainly more than Jace or Isabelle at the very least) he’s left to his own devices for most of the time he’s not in a lesson or training. 

This means no one is around to see him stop at Magnus Bane’s file almost every time he goes to look something else up… or should he say, files, plural. There are a lot of files on him, Alec notices, many marking him as a criminal in varying degrees: lying during Clave Inquiries, harboring fugitives, refusing to assist in investigations when his services were requested, aligning with dissenting Downworlders against Clave sanctions throughout the centuries. The bottom line is always a general disregard for the Nephilim which is all Alec is able to discern from the words on the page when he first comes across them. 

It seems simple enough at first read. He isn’t familiar with all of the terms he comes across or every single one of the various laws and regulations broken, but he doesn’t question them. This is a very powerful warlock who is capable of doing a lot of damage - and he doesn’t seem to listen to any of the rules. Hiding fugitives, helping criminals. If Magnus Bane is on the Clave’s radar then it must be for good reason, High Warlock or not. 

So when everyone around him tells Alec that Magnus is not to be trusted, despite the fact that he still feels inexplicably drawn towards the cat-eyed warlock in the photos, Alec forces himself to believe them. 

---

Present Day

“And what number is that file up to these days?” Magnus asks with an amused smile. 

“Right now? Pending review of wiping your record clean after, you know, saving the entirety of Idris and all,” Alec says, shifting himself forward enough to turn to face Magnus on the sofa as he takes a sip of his wine. “Plus, I don’t think Jia liked the idea of the Head of the New York Institute being married to someone with such an extensive criminal record.”  

They both laugh at that, Magnus shaking his head incredulously. “I don’t know… that’s a lot of history to erase. I think I’d like it better if they kept it - we could print it out and frame my accomplishments, hang them over the fireplace.” 

Alec shrugs. “We both know most of those violations were bullshit anyway,” he points out.  “Do we?” Magnus challenges playfully. “Because a moment ago you were telling me all about how young Alec Lightwood thought Magnus Bane was nothing more than a dastardly, dangerous lawbreaker.” 

Alec rolls his eyes. “I didn’t stay that naive forever.” 

---

Alec, age 10

Alec never stops asking questions, always eager to learn more, so no one thinks twice about it when he starts to ask them about the High Warlock of Brooklyn. He’s careful to approach a wide range of adults around the Institute so no single person will see that the cases he ‘randomly’ chooses to read up on for his studies all happen to revolve around a singular Warlock. 

What he learns, slowly, is that the only danger Magnus Bane poses is to the stuffy older members of the Clave who wouldn’t know how to be nice to someone if they tried. Almost all of the fugitive harboring Magnus is guilty of turns out to be for injured or wrongfully accused Downworlders (though the Clave didn’t know they were wrongfully accused at the time). But Magnus knew, and he protected them when he thought the Clave probably wouldn’t listen to a word they said if they were taken in. 

The more Alec learns about his people, the more he starts to realize that they believe they’re better than everyone else in the Shadow World. The rules are set up to favor them because they enforce the rules. The Nephilim are in a position of power in the Shadow World, dealing out justice as they see fit - this is a lesson taught to him now as something to pride himself on, but instead it leaves him feeling uneasy. 

He wants to talk to Downworlders about it but he’s forbidden. They would only feed him lies, the older Shadowhunters tell him. He doesn’t need to confuse his mind with so many sides of the same story when their side is right here for him on a silver platter. When their side, the right side, is the only one that matters.

Someone must talk to his parents because soon he’s told to stop asking questions about Magnus Bane. His job is to learn what he’s taught, to do as he’s told. 

Except his questions don’t stop there, not about Magnus, and not about himself. 

His parents take him to the wedding of a family friend and with tears in her eyes his mother smiles down at him and says “One day you’ll meet a nice young lady, and I’ll be watching you up there.” 

Alec thinks of all the girls his age and frowns. He doesn’t like any of them that way, even though he knows one or two have a crush on him. Their friends giggle about it and try to push them together during sparring, but Alec mostly finds it annoying. 

“Does it have to be a girl?” Alec whines. When he thinks of the people who make him smile, the people he might want to spend the rest of his life with (which doesn’t mean much to a nine year old who thinks the break between dinner and dessert is an eternity) his thoughts drift to a boy or two in his training classes, and then to some photos in a database that bring him more comfort than he even fully realizes. 

“Of course it does. Why would you even-” Maryse almost dismisses before her gaze turns sharp, almost fearful. 

“What if I want to marry a boy?” It’s such a simple, innocent question. He hasn’t liked any girls yet, but there are a few boys he think he might. So it only makes sense that instead of a nice young lady he’d want to marry a nice young man. 

“No, Alec. Shadowhunter boys don’t marry other boys. It isn’t-” Maryse falters. “They just don’t. You just haven’t met the right girl yet, but you will. I promise.” 

Alec considers this. “But what if-” 

“Alec, I said no. This isn’t up for discussion. And don’t ever mention this to anyone else, okay? Especially not to your father.” They’re speaking in whispers to begin with, and though Robert is only two seats away on the other side of Isabelle he’s entirely oblivious to the conversation. Izzy looks like she may have been listening but turns her head quickly. 

Alec simply nods and keeps the rest of his thoughts on the matter to himself, not just for that day but for years to come. 

---

Alec, present day

“I always knew how I felt was different, but that was the first time I realized it was wrong,” Alec admits. “And up to that point I was nothing but the perfect son, I didn’t want-- I didn’t want to ruin that.” 

“Maryse knew,” Magnus realizes, surprised. 

Alec nods. “My father was the only one who didn’t, or maybe he was just in such deep denial he convinced himself he didn’t notice. But I think everyone else had an idea, at least. Izzy was the only one who ever tried to bring it up but I denied it long enough that she stopped trying. My mom never mentioned it again after that wedding, and neither did I. Well, not until…” 

“Not until your wedding,” Magnus says, smirking ever so slightly. 

“It was kind of hard not to talk about it after the stunt you pulled, yeah,” Alec points out, and though he tries to sound accusatory he’s smiling back, unable to help himself. . 

“The stunt I pulled? It takes two to tango, Mister. You could’ve just taken me out of the room to talk, you didn’t have to make out with me in a hall full of Shadowhunters,” Magnus counters, eyebrow raised in amusement before growing serious once more. “I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide who you are for so long.” 

“Yeah,” Alec agrees. “Me too.” 

---

Alec, age 12

“Please?” Alec begs, hazel eyes large as he tugs at the back of his mother’s dress. “Let me go to the meeting! I promise I’ll behave. I won’t say a word, you won’t even know I’m there.” He’s twelve-and-three-quarters now, nearly thirteen whole years old. Plenty old enough to sit in on a meeting. In fact, his parents have dragged him along to countless meetings he didn’t want to be in, so he doesn’t know why this one is such a big deal. 

Maryse shares a look with Robert who only shakes his head. “You can come to the next meeting we have with the Clave. Not this one. I don’t even want to be in this one.” Alec’s father mutters the last bit, earning him a reproachful look from Maryse. 

“But I don’t want to go to a Clave meeting. I want to go to this one,” Alec insists. 

“Why this one?” Maryse asks, and Alec opens his mouth to answer before snapping it shut again quickly. What can he tell them? That he overheard them talking about meeting with the local Warlock representative? That he wants to be in the same room as Magnus for more than 5 seconds, to hear the man speak and see if he’s anything like what Alec imagines after reading every report on him they have? 

“Because I already know a lot about Shadowhunter things. I want to learn more about Warlocks, too.” Not a total lie. 

Both Maryse and Robert exchange a hesitant look. “Alec, sweetie. The man we have to meet with… well, he doesn’t like us very much. It’s already going to be a very difficult meeting... Maybe we can bring you along to talk with some other warlock another time. You just be good for Hodge, okay? We’ll be back soon.” 

They’re gone before Alec can ask any of the dozen follow-up questions running through his head. Us? Did Magnus not like him either, even though they never met? Did he hate all Shadowhunters? So many questions that Alec knows he’ll never get the answers to because he knows better than to ask now. 

...then again, maybe no answer is better than getting a truth he doesn’t want to hear. 

While his parents are gone he goes back to the computer. Back to the files and the photos. It’s safe, and it’s become almost a ritual habit by this point to imagine a world where the things he’s starting to feel for boys isn’t something he can’t talk about; a world where his gaze can linger on more than just a photo on a screen without being seen as a cause for concern. 

---

Alec, age 14

“Son, we need to talk. You’re coming of an age now when you’re going to start having… impulses. You see, when you like a girl-” Robert Lightwood begins after making it a point to call Alec into his room after watching one of the girls in his class flirt with him endlessly during his last training session, going so far as to try and lean up for a kiss after he pinned her to the mat. Alec had never moved so fast in his life to jump back from it but apparently that part was lost on his father. The fact that Alec got a lot of attention from the girls his age, however, was not overlooked. 

Alec doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he already knows all about sex. Word travels fast once one kid gets The Talk and his dad is a year and a half late to this party. He also doesn’t have the heart to tell him that liking girls, Alec is now entirely certain, is never going to be an issue. 

Or perhaps it’s going to be the biggest issue, because his mother’s words still echo in his head, creating a cycle of guilt and shame every time he does feel an impulse, just not about any of the girls he’s around. He barely looks at the other boys, afraid of what might happen if he looks too long, or the wrong way. Afraid someone will notice… that someone will know. 

For now he forces himself to smile back at the giggling girls, but he hates it. And every time Jace ends up stepping in oozing charm to pull the attention away from him it leaves him feeling equal parts grateful and sick to his stomach, because he wants Jace to smile at him like that. He wants any boy to smile at him like that. 

Except every time a boy is even remotely kind to him he’s afraid it’s because of something he did that he didn’t realize, or something he let slip that he didn’t catch, and so he closes himself off entirely. He throws himself completely into training, into work, and into files stored away he sometimes forgets are for everyone’s use, and not just his own personal escape. 

---

Alec, age 17

Duty first, his father tells him. He’s being raised to run an Institute, to help bring the Lightwood name back to its former glory and prestige. That leaves no room for error… it certainly leaves no room for his attraction to guys, especially not his troubling feelings for his parabatai or his increasing infatuation with Magnus Bane. 

His exposure to Downworlders has increased significantly since he, Izzy, and Jace began sneaking out to a Downworld-run diner downtown. Izzy and Jace have both dallied in the company of romantic partners who would give their parents a heart attack to learn about, but not Alec. He watches from afar, daydreaming but never partaking. He can’t, not with anyone he actually wants to. Part of him knows that they’d never say anything if he told them but he doesn’t want to put that sort of burden on either of them. Because that’s what it is, and that’s all it will ever be: a burden. 

He gets the feeling he’d be more easily forgiven for wanting to spend his time with downworlder girls than Shadowhunter boys, if his feelings were simply an act of teenage rebellion. If only. He knows by now that Shadowhunter, Downworlder, or even mundane, the only people he’s ever going to like are going to be boys. And he knows that will never be okay. 

So instead of smiling back at the waiter he keeps pointedly avoiding eye contact with he watches after Izzy and Jace, yearning for the freedom they have and their honest sense of selves. They can afford to sneak out, to mess up, to disappoint - the same pressures and expectations aren’t put on them that are put on him, and he envies them for it. He shoulders the burdens so they don’t have to, defending them at every turn in the hopes they never feel the crippling shame he experiences every single day. 

---

Alec, age 20

Alec gets stuck with the task of assisting with updating all of the databases with more up-to-date photos after getting caught sneaking into the Institute at 3 am one night. In truth, he only allowed himself to get caught by security in order to buy Jace and Izzy enough time to run in the opposite direction - both of them are already on probation this month while he has, as usual, a nearly spotless record. He’ll take the hit this time and they’ll owe him a huge favor later, one he’ll be sure to make count. 

“I can’t believe he supplied us with his own photos,” says a voice followed by laughter from one of the other Shadowhunters on the project. 

“Who?” Alec asks, only half-listening for the answer. He doesn’t particularly care, 

“Magnus Bane,” comes the reply in a tone full of contempt. Alec freezes, nearly dropping the stack of photos in his hands. “Said, and I quote, ‘Our security cameras never pick up his good side’.” 

“Let me see,” Alec manages, wondering if he sounds as anxious as he feels. They all look over the offering Magnus sent over, most of which are from that club in town that he owns now, Pandemonium. Some of the photos are just him, others have an assortment of men and women in extremely close proximity. One photo looks downright compromising and Alec has to turn away quickly to avoid anyone seeing the fierce blush that crosses his face. It’s the first time he realizes that maybe Magnus is like him, a simple reminder that he can’t possibly be the only person in the entirety of the shadow world who likes the same gender. Magnus looks so comfortable, so carefree in that photo, and Alec wants that, too. 

For a moment he closes his eyes and imagines a world where he has a chance at happiness without having to hide, where he can be bold enough to take a photo with another man, to leave a lingering touch--

And then it’s gone. 

The names and jokes that follow at Magnus’ expense make Alec’s blood boil as much as they make his stomach turn, because a lot of them could just as easily be aimed at him. They are, indirectly, not that anyone other than him knows it. Alec doesn’t know how long it goes on before something inside him snaps. 

“He really isn’t that bad, you know,” Alec mutters. 

“What was that, Lightwood?” One of his peers questions. 

“Magnus Bane,” Alec says, louder now. “From what I’ve read on his file, he really isn’t that bad. Most of his charges were due to misinformation.” 

“I heard he and Camille Belcourt were a thing once. Bet he gets her to just encanto everyone who catches him,” one suggests. 

“Yeah. My father was part of a raid on some rogue werewolves Bane defended in the early 90s. He never got charged for that, either, but my uncle nearly died,” another says. 

Alec decides to cut his losses and not bring up the fact that most of those raids were unjustified, the charges were dropped because the warlocks and werewolves were only reacting in self-defense. 

The photos Magnus sent in end up in the trash and the standard security camera footage uploaded in their place. Alec can’t help but think that the photos are unnecessary anyway - every side is Magnus’ ‘good side’. 

---

Present Day

Magnus rolls his eyes. “Do you know how long it took me to pick out the best photos for that?” he says with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “The least they could’ve done is return them to me. Didn’t have to throw them out.” 

Alec, however, finds it difficult to be amused by the story, even now. “Doesn’t it bother you? That that’s how some Shadowhunters see you? Not just you, but all of the Downworlders?” It’s something that’s bothered Alec more and more ever since he saw the sort of reception Magnus got for the brief period he stayed at the Institute with him. Of course Alec isn’t naive enough to think the bias is gone, that people would change their minds overnight just because the Head of the Institute was with a Downworlder, but… he expects more than what he got. He expects better. Magnus deserves better. 

“Of course it does, Alexander. But there are some people so stuck in their antiquated ways that they’ll never change, not for you, and certainly not for me. If I worried about everyone with an unfavorable opinion of me then I wouldn’t have any energy left for the people actually worth my time and effort. People like you.” 

Alec relaxes a little at that. 

“I wasn’t so sure I’d be one of those people when the first time I saw you at Pandemonium ended with you fleeing through a Portal,” Alec admits. 

---

Alec, age 24

Alec keeps an eye on Jace and Clary… and Magnus. It’s the closest he’s been in years, not trusting his own instinctive reactions enough to dare come to the club on his own. Magnus is so much more attractive in person, and the guilt that wells up inside of him at the simple observation is nearly enough to drown under. 

He doesn’t have long to dwell on it before a Circle member sneaks up behind Magnus and Alec takes him out with one well-aimed shot from his arrow, careful to avoid eye contact with Magnus as he walks by him to retrieve his arrow and scan the crowded room for other attackers. He has a job to do, he can’t allow his emotions to distract him.  

 “Who are you?” Magnus asks out loud, unaware that a few recently activated runes allows Alec to hear the words over the thump of the music even at this distance. Alec has to fight against the shiver of anticipation that runs down his spine in that moment. 

Because Magnus Bane may not know who he is -  not yet - but Alec certainly knows who he is. How do you explain to someone you just met that they’ve held your interest for years? Short answer: you don’t. 

Alec focuses on his arrow, on the Circle member, and by the time he turns back around Magnus is gone and Alec’s following Jace, Clary, and Izzy out of the club without looking back.

Alec doesn’t miss his chance the next time they meet, not long after and under strangely similar circumstances.

“Well done,” Alec says, allowing his bow to drop slowly once he’s certain his arrow hit its mark. His shot is followed quickly by a blast of blue magic which renders the circle member unconscious. Alec looks away from Magnus, aware of how long he’s waited for this moment: their first meeting. Just to be in the same room as him-- 

“More like medium rare,” Magnus says, and Alec’s thankful he’s looking away because he doesn’t know what he’d do if his first proper interaction with Magnus Bane is for him to catch Alec rolling his eyes at the pun. 

It isn’t long before Magnus makes his way across the room and into Alec’s space. “I’m Magnus, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced?” 

“Alec.” He smiles. The only thing he can think is that the photos and faraway glances didn’t do justice to even half of Magnus’ beauty. And then he realizes he’s staring, smiling like some dopey schoolboy, and he can’t seem to make his mouth stop grinning. “Um, we uh, should really, uh, probably get, you know…” 

Alec silently prays to the Angel for the ground to open him up and swallow him whole, which would be far less excruciating than his fumbling. Magnus, to his credit, doesn’t seem deterred. “Right. We should join the party,” Magnus agrees, finishing his thought for him. 

And the rest? Well, the rest is history. Their history. 

---

Present Day

As he finishes recounting the impact Magnus had on his life before they even met, Alec’s face is a little flush despite the cool autumn air; whether it’s from the tinge of embarrassment over the story he kept to himself for so long or the alcohol (which he blames for blurting all of that out) finally starting to get to him he can’t tell. 

“Alexander…” Magnus says, voice soft and eyes full of an emotion that Alec can’t quite place at first. “I had no clue-” 

“Of course you didn’t,” Alec says with a soft laugh. “You had no way of knowing. Honestly, I never even planned on telling you. But that’s what made it so easy for me to trust you from the very start - I knew you were a good person before I even met you. It wasn’t just that I always dreamed of meeting someone like you… I just always dreamed of meeting you.” Alec takes a deep breath. “But do you know what finally made it sink in that it didn’t have to be just a dream?” 

Magnus doesn’t ask what, he doesn’t have to. The curiosity is written all over his face and he remains silent, giving Alec the time to finish his story at his own pace. 

“The day we tried to get Clary’s memories back, when I ruined the summoning circle. You told me I didn’t have anything to be ashamed of,” Alec’s voice is quiet now. “It was the first time I had the hope that that might be true. That there might be one person out there who wouldn’t look at me, at what I wanted or who I wanted, and only see something that needed to be hidden.” 

Magnus reaches across and takes his hand. “I’m glad you listened.” 

“I’m glad you didn’t give up on me,” Alec admits. “I didn’t exactly make it easy on you.” 

But Magnus shakes his head. “All my life, the only times Shadowhunters were willing to give me a chance were when they needed something from me: a deal, or a favor. You aren’t the first to see that file and form a judgement, but you’re one of the first to look beyond it. To see me as a person, and not just someone with something to offer.” Magnus smiles again. “It seems to me, Alexander, that you didn’t give up on me, either.” 

Alec thinks about that for a moment and nods, and then turns and grabs his glass of wine. “To not giving up on each other, then” he offers. 

Magnus mirrors the motion, glass meeting glass in the space between them on the sofa. “To never giving up on each other.” 

They drink, and Magnus shifts to lean back against Alec, Alec’s hand moving up to brush through his husband’s hair. The last thing Alec thinks as they drift off to sleep on the sofa, Magnus first and Alec close behind, is how nice it is to go from never dreaming he’d have someone like Magnus in his life to dreaming about Magnus every time he closes his eyes, no longer ashamed of the love he deserves.