#it will be exciting to confront my observations with some new appearances of Law

[l-in-the-light]

Trafalgar Law and his rare friendships (Law and closeness series part 4)

Let's venture into less explored territory. And we will start with no one else but our beloved Kinemon!

They met at Punk Hazard, Kinemon doing some rampage and Law was sent by Caesar to stop him. At first he cut him up into three pieces apparently, but I think Kin is colorizing here a lot.

Because let's take a look at his awesome feats. He might be cut into pieces, but he's still a decent threat despite that! I think Law started by cutting Kinemon in half, then got surprised he still tried to fight him, and then he cut off his head as well only to realize that even the head alone is probably bouncing around as well! So he caught it, but in the meantime the legs already run somewhere else and the torso escaped Law on his way back to lab somehow which is where Brook finds it later. And Law was probably like "screw it, I don't have time for this" and left it be for now. But I bet it wasn't "letting his torso to rot, and feed legs to wild beasts" like Kinemon claims. After all his legs turned out to be just fine lol. And we know by now that Kin's legs just run off on their own aimlessly, so this is probably what actually happened.

And this is how Strawhats find Kin. I guess Kinemon was still causing a lot of trouble despite being only a head. Maybe he tried to bite Law? Anyway, he must have been really *mad* to cut him up into that many tiny pieces. I think Kinemon was behaving like a little shit. It's important to mention Law never did that to anyone else before.

And he attempts to do the same to Tashigi who is also trying to bounce around while being cut in half.

Yeah, Kinemon and Law started off on a great note there. But I think Kin earned Law's respect for that, because this is probably what Kin shouted at him while being cut into smaller and smaller pieces:

And Law shoved his head into some closed off room, instead of giving it to Caesar. I think he was trying to spare him and hoping he can restore him back later on.

As soon as they both end up on Strawhats ship, Kinemon already treats Law with respect! It's no longer "that warlord" but "Law-dono".

It seems that despite what Kinemon says, Law actually earned his respect back there already. He even tried to catch his name or the title to know who he is.

It's so sweet he's already asking Law to give him a ride to Zou and before he can get an answer Luffy butts-in haha.

He's always listening carefully to Law's plan in Dressrosa and keeps closely with his assigned group. And yes, it's implied that Law was the one who strategically seperated the groups.

Kin is the first one to raise a concern to stick to the plan and not waste any time. He understands the stakes but won't venture off on his own, instead making sure the whole group knows what to do. That's because they left before Law finished going over the plan again. Kinemon took it on himself to make sure "they got the memo", so to speak.

Kin's also the one who seems most worried about Law, probably because when he almost rescued him he realized in what kind of terrible state he was. "Answer me!!" there is a lot of concern there he didn't show for any of the Strawhats yet, but he did for Law.

His idea to distract and cause some chaos by disguising himself was also something Law would approve of.

On Barto's ship Kin is already taking care of the dangers ahead of others, because he's aware his friends are still recoving from their injuries.

Kinemon never forgets that Strawhats and Law are in alliance and are two seperate crews. He asks Law specifically for help as well, clearly surprising him with that request. Kin's amazement seems to be very genuine and he is very polite in how he asks for help.

And then alliance happens, they bump fists together I bet Law must have braced himself for it and Luffy declares "Being in alliance means we're friends!". This is the moment Luffy defines what Kinemon and Law's relationship is supposed to be from now on: friendship. And of course Law is annoyed about that, it should be up to him to decide stuff like that! Luffy doesn't care though, pushing Law's boundaries further for him.

Law already takes on his role in the alliance, assuring Kin they will be safe in his submarine and no one will be able to suddenly attack them on his watch. Now this is a turn of 180 degrees, Law takes them as his own personal responsibility from now on, gives emotional reassurance and basically saying "count on me" but with different words. He already succumbed to the fate Luffy bestowed upon him.

And take a look at this. There is team Luffy, team Nekomamushi, Team Inuarashi and Team Kinemon. Do you know what that means? Yes, Law handed the leadership over the group to Kinemon! Meanwhile himself taking the role of a support and protection. And this trend will continue all the way in Wano as well.

Apparently he visited Kinemon at the castle ruins every single day. Most likely worried about his health condition.

Law apologized immediately to Kinemon the moment the other asks what's going on. Even takes the blame for himself, but also takes extra time to reassure Kin that his part of the plan is unaffected and no one knows about the samurais. I think it's implied again that it was Law who seperated the tasks in each group meanwhile taking a supervisor role himself. He told Kinemon to find Akazaya samurais and they had a whole operation going on in the background with gathering supplies of weapons and food, bit by bit, while officially putting the blame on some third party. Knowing Kinemon he wouldn't be smart enough to think of it this way, so Law at the very least helped him organize stuff. Besides we don't see Kinemon running around and making sure everything works out: that's Law actually, checking up with all the groups and resolving any potential crisis situations (like when he warned Sanji of trouble and took it on himself to lead the whole group to safety). Besides we have Sanji's words for proof when Law apologized to Kinemon: "What kind of shoddy operation are you running, Law?!" which is pretty direct in pointing out who the actual mastermind is behind the Wano's battle.

Seeing how Kin also wasn't the smartest at reading the coded picture message about the raid, I think it was originally Law's idea as well that the message should be some sort of code only people involved would understand. The raid picture also mentions meeting up at a port specifically, and that seems to be a reoccuring point plan in every of Law's plans ever since Rocky PORT Incident. Even in Dressrosa and Punk Hazard the chosen meeting points for all seperated groups were told to be specific ports.

When it turns out there was a traitor in the midst of their core team, it's Law who seems to have taken it on himself to dig up information from Hawkins. Interestingly enough every last samurai arrives for the raid despite that every single bridge in the country had been destroyed. I have no evidence but I think it's likely Law helped all those people travel to the "true" meeting spot. After all we didn't see him for days before the raid, and while many fans believed Law turned into a snitch, the raid itself denies it: Law was from the very beginning to the very end on the alliance's side. But then why didn't he take credit for what he did to make the raid a success? Well, he didn't take any credit at all before either, giving it all to Kinemon, so why would he start to take it for himself suddenly?

Here Law rescues the samurais, scolding them for underestimating the sea. Doesn't it look similar to you? Law is rising them up just like Oden did on his execution day. This symbolically proves Law is the actual person carrying the whole battle operation on his back. Just like his full name, Trafalgar Waterloo, should have hinted us all along. His reactions to all the others discussing what's happening are also very telling - Law's the only one not surprised that samurais aren't there yet, that there is a traitor, not even surprised that Kid is there. But he is taken aback about news of Big Mom and Jinbei, because that's some wild cards he didn't know anything about before.

Even though Law protests his submarine isn't samurais garrison, it's pretty clear who samurais themselves think runs their plan in reality. And worthy to notice here: Law no longer calls Kinemon by his full name. It's "Kin" from now on. And how many people did we ever see Law using such an affectionate name for before? With him you're either "something-ya" or a full name basis. Kin is literally the only exception. You can't see it as anything else but affectionate. Throughout Wano they became really close friends.

And of course Law saves Kinemon's skin by coming up with a backup plan on the fly and even decides he will carry the samurais to the back entrance of the island on his submarine. He also allows Kinemon to take the full credit, not really expecting any gratitude. He just sits there in the background, letting others take the spotlight.

And this is a good moment to remind us of what Sengoku told Law about love. It should be unconditional, which means you don't expect anything in return for your help. Law usually operates on "favour for a favour" basis or impersonal alliance level. But in this "alliance" he doesn't even want the credit, doesn't expect anything in return, and breaks his own rule of not calling people in affectionate ways. And does he even get anything for himself from this alliance besides the rise in his own bounty?

Imo there's only one possible conclusion here: Law accepted the condition of the alliance Luffy set up all the way back in Zou, it's supposed to be a friendship. Law indeed fullfilled that condition, he truly became friends with Kin. Of course he still wouldn't admit openly that they're friends, but like always with Law, we need to actually look at his actions and subtext. This friendship wouldn't have happened if friendship with Luffy didn't happen first! After the raid Law doesn't stay at the shogun's palace and instead stays with the ships at the port, but I bet you anything Kinemon ran to him at least once to tell him how grateful he was for his help.

So that's one confirmed friendship of Law we see in the series (besides the one he has with Luffy, but I elaborated on that one all the way back in part 2). The other friendships we can see in the series is that with Bepo, Penguin and Shachi, and Wolf in Law's novel. We know that Law created Hearts Pirates together with them, he doesn't consider Hearts to be his own creation, it's theirs as much as it's Law's. That friendship started off on a sour ground, Penguin and Shachi were bullying Bepo and Law saved him. But they quickly became friends and Law's strength and attitude earned their deepest respect. Penguin and Shachi sometimes allow themselves very cheeky comments ("Captain! You're so sexy now!"), they're also slightly older than him, but despite that they have really big respect for Law and always listen to him, despite sometimes complaining ("Captain got carried away" or "stop him Bepo!!"). They know each other well and as teens they spent a lot of late nights just talking together. They would sacrifice their lives for Law and Law would do the same for them, but he's also not beyond sending them to safety instead and taking all the risk on himself. They often shower Law in compliments, almost like they know he has low self-esteem, but then they know him for 13 years already, of course they would be best friends at this point and know that stuff about him (about his touching trauma probably as well).

Bepo is the only one privileaged with any physical affection, he is Law's safe haven, the last one he allowed himself to keep. The main Hearts also know of Law's past and his full name, as well as the fact he is a D. Of course they also started doing those silly power rangers-like poses when Law introduces his crew and I bet you anything it's a nod to Sora Warrior of the Sea. They're all fanboying the comics together. Law is probably slightly more affectionate with his Hearts than anyone else (which in this case means he allows himself to be a bit more open, but he still keeps some distance from them), but we can see he still acts like a leader for them, trying his best to earn the respect he received. But we also see him worrying about Bepo a lot in Wano when the mink ate a poisoned fish. He almost threw his own raid plan out of the window just because Bepo asked to not leave him alone; clearly they are his firstmost priority. Too bad we don't have that many of their interactions to analyze.

And then we have his friendship with the old man Wolf, inventor from North Blue, who took Law in (spoilers ahead for Law's novel!). At first their relations are mostly "favour for a favour" kind, something that Law knows well because he tends to operate on same basis. So, Law is allowed to stay at Wolf's place if he finds a job and helps with chores and testing the inventions. They take turns preparing the meals. Everything changes when Wolf has an unfortunate accident and Law saves his life. Wolf then asks for a friendship and Law thinks to himself that he can't really refuse a request from someone who doesn't usually do "friendships", he feels honoured with that trust. Wolf still acts as their mentor but it feels more like they became a family. Law is very grateful to Wolf for standing in defense of Penguin and Shachi. Wolf is also the one who teaches young Law how to be a captain and puts it into his head that he needs to take responsibility at all times. In general Wolf acts rather cold and rough, but always shows a kind heart when any of them needs it, and I bet Law took on his habits because that feels a lot like how Law himself acts on many occassions.

Wolf definitely became some sort of a rolemodel for him, but there were also few occassions when Law allowed himself to say some really spoiled and cheeky things to him (like: you do the dishes from now on). Law also helps Wolf make a tough decision: to resign from taking responsibility for his son's actions and not to kill him with his own hands, he literally stops his effort by saying "Family shouldn't kill each other". At the end Wolf gives them a partying gift: a yellow submarine, and encourages Law to go out to seas to look for freedom and experience life as he wants. Even 3 years later both of them think of each other fondly, implying that maybe one day Heart Pirates will return to share stories about their adventures.

That's all the canon provides us. Law generally keeps to himself, but in Law's novel he doesn't seem to have any problem to make friendships, every person he saves becomes eventually his friend, which really gives one more argument that there's no way Luffy would be the exception to that rule. But it becomes clear that the older Law gets the more reserved he becomes and doesn't seek out friendships. He probably wouldn't have perceived Kinemon as his friend if not for the condition of the alliance Luffy applied. And this begs to ask about the elephant in the room: why? Why is he that reserved and why did he allow himself to accept Kinemon as friend in the end? I think he felt it's okay to become friends with Kinemon, because he's a samurai thrugh and through. Even if they win and Kin lives, Law would leave Wano and probably never see him again. I guess that made the decision easier on him to some degree.

I have some ideas about possible reasons why Law avoids any new friendships or affectionate bonds with people and instead tries as much as he can to keep it impersonal. He clearly can be a caring and dedicated friend and I don't think his trauma is the only reason why he avoids people. Because there's no reason anymore (after defeating Doffy and Kaido) to not openly admit he made new friends. I will take a closer look at his possible reasons in the next post.

[josefavomjaaga]

Helfert, Joachim Murat, Chapter 6, Part 5

Things are getting ugly now, brace yourselves.

Rarely has anyone been more fatally self-deceived than Joachim Murat, when he convinced himself that he need only present himself on the soil of his former kingdom and everything would fall to him. And for the full measure of his misfortune he had chosen the coast of Calabria, that stretch of land where the old dynasty had always found its enthusiastic followers willing to make sacrifices, while Murat's name, which was conflated with that of the madman Manhès, was virtually maligned and cursed there. But even elsewhere in the country, with the rapidly changing impressions of the southerners, his memory was not merely obliterated, as if a century had passed since then: everything connected with his actions, everything that reminded one of him, was as if it had been tainted. His officials, many of whom the new government had left in their positions, were looked upon with disdain and persecuted by the population; indeed, there were violent acts, bloody uprisings against them, so that the government had to intervene with all the severity of the law.

An example of this is given in the following footnote:

Jablonovski PS. ad numerum 12 of 21. September 2, mentions such an uprising in Salerno, in which several Murat officials were killed; a royal commission came from Naples and now eleven of the mutineers were sentenced to death: "il arrive à chaque instant de pareils événements; la présence de nos troupes les empêche dans la capitale, et si elles quittaient Naples aujourd'hui, demain tous ceux qui avaient été employés par Murat seraient égorgés". See also n. 13 on 3 October: "Dans les provinces qui étaient oprimées sous le gouvernement de Murat les passions haineuses de cette nation agissent avec plus de force".

Apparently, some people were disappointed that they were not allowed any excesses after the change of government. Helfert continues:

At the Court of Naples in the first days of October, nothing was known about Murat's departure from Ajaccio, nor was it possible to know anything about it: on the other hand, other news had arrived which upset the King in the extreme. Jablonovski, towards whom the monarch was always of the most winning friendliness, noticed a change in the monarch's behaviour at the cercle on October 4, the name day of Emperor Francis, which was always festively celebrated at Ferdinand's court. None of the ministers was able to tell our envoy what the king had against him until Princess Partanna, whom Ferdinand alone had taken into his confidence, told him: it was a coded dispatch from Prince Castelcicala which had arrived from Paris and informed the monarch that Austria had offered Murat an asylum within her borders. Jablonovski seized the first opportunity to confront Circello on the matter. "Shouldn't your King prefer," he said, "that Murat should stay 200 miles from Naples, under the eyes and supervision of a powerful ally of His Majesty, rather than having to constantly fear that the adventurer might land at a point on the coast which, because of its great extent, can never be properly guarded, and disturb the peace of the kingdom? Of course he won't succeed, that's what our troops are for. But he can cause enough unrest and disorder, especially if, as is not at all improbable, he joins forces with the Barbaresques and sets out to do mischief".

The argument was plausible and had all the greater effect because just in the last few days, October 4 and 5, reports had been received that put our envoy's ideas in a peculiar light. Murat's squadron had not gone entirely unnoticed on the Neapolitan coast: on the 4th a vessel had been observed near Sorrento which was thought to be a pirate ship and which seemed to be waiting for others like it; on the 5th a similar signal had arrived in the port of Salerno. The two pieces of news caused all the more concern in government circles because at the same time Baron Lebzeltern sent a message from Rome to the commandant of Gaëta, who reported to the capital without delay that Murat had left the port of Ajaccio with several ships.

All these facts also came to the knowledge of the diplomats of the friendly powers, at least to that of Jablonovski, who reported on them to his Cabinet on 6 and 7 October. On the other hand, what was decided at court remained a secret for the time being. They could only conclude from all sorts of signs and hints that the King's Council had agreed on a drastic measure. Our envoy and the British one thought that orders had been issued to all coastal points to treat Joachim Murat with martial law if he were seized with arms in his hand. Medici had also given orders to all commanders of the troops posted along the coasts from Salerno to Calabria to take the severest measures against those citizens who would join the ex-king. A Captain Spadea, who had returned from Sicily and was therefore undoubtedly familiar in court circles, informed Guglielmo Pepe privately "that much blood would flow in the kingdom in a short time".

Pizzo is, or was at that time, a town of about 8000 inhabitants situated on a height close to the sea, on the shore of which, where one used to land, there were individual houses and magazines. From the coast, at that time rather bumpy and uncomfortable, a path wound up to the town, which led to the main square and continued over the latter in the somewhat steeply rising road leading to Monteleone. On a hill overlooking the town on the left, in the direction in which we enter the town in our minds, there was a castle dominating the Rhine and the town.

Murat's small band, not counting himself, consisted of 29 heads, 26 of them militairs. He wore a uniform of sky-blue cloth, colonel's epaulettes, a tricorn on his head, but no medal or decoration of any kind on his chest. Some people who were on the beach during the disembarkation ran to watch the unusual spectacle and, while the Muratists kept shouting "Evviva il Re Gioacchino!", returned the greeting forced upon them. The same was the case with individuals who came to meet them as the group marched up the mountain path. Thus they arrived at the main square, where a lot of people had gathered, attracted both by the festival day and by the strange procession. The people's expressions reflected curiosity, astonishment, surprise, but not joy. On the contrary, when Murat addressed them, talking about redemption, about liberation, a woman from the people shouted at him: "You talk to us about the freedom you want to give us and you had three of my sons shot"!

This anecdote apparently goes back to Ferdinand of Naples personally, at least Helfert says in a footnote: "Tu parli di libertà e mi hai fatto fucilare tre figli! This turn the king told Prince Jablonovski, No. 15 to the 15th of October 2."

That was a wicked interjection! From their barracks appeared the coastguard, 15 men of artillery under Lieutenant Barba, armed and in their old uniform. "Behold my soldiers!" exclaimed Murat, turning to them: "Do you recognise your king? Shout: Long live King Joachim!" An official of the Duke of Infantado named Alcalà and others ran up to them and exhorted: "Shout: Long live Ferdinand!" They did neither, which Murat interpreted as a good sign that the old soldier's spirit would persuade them in his favour. But it was only amazement, or if you will, a kind of enchantment, which the unexpected appearance of the former king with his commanding and winning appearance exercised on them, as well as on the majority of those gathered in general.

While this was going on, two or three young people had approached Murat's entourage and persuaded them that nothing could be done here in Pizzo, that the population was stubborn, but that in Monteleone the "king" would certainly find his party! So Murat ordered the departure for Monteleone and called on the gunners to join him. They did not do so, but they followed his march at some distance. Joachim could no longer rest; he was not prepared for such a cool, even ambiguous reception. He strode hastily up the mountain road, so that, out of practice from the long sea voyage and affected by the excessive excitement, he had to pause to catch his breath. The coastguard was a good distance behind, marching slowly, as if irresolute, while from the town a crowd of armed men was seen approaching, by whom the artillerymen were soon overtaken. The ex-king's leaders became suspicious and urged them to hurry: "see if we can reach Monteleone as soon as possible!" But they were already close at hand, preceded in passionate haste by a gendarmerie captain named Trentacapilli; he had formerly been a gang leader, General Manhès had had three of his brothers hanged. "The general and all of you will follow me to Pizzo!" he commanded. "It behoves you," Murat replied, "to obey your king and escort him to Monteleone!" Murat's officers wanted to pounce on the audacious man, but Joachim resisted them, and he was allowed to return to his troop, from which shots were now fired. The Murat's wanted to return fire, but their master would not allow it: I do not want even one of my subjects to lose his life for the sake of my landing!

But he realised that all was lost. He and his officers, while his few men were soon crushed and overcome by the superior force, sought to reach the shore of the sea quickly, not on the paved path, but down the slope over hill and dale, with their pursuers hard on their heels, with whom they fought on the way. A single boat was found on the shore, which the officers wanted to unhitch in a hurry to head for Barbara's Trabacolo, which, instead of waiting nearby as he had been ordered, was cruising far from the shore on the high seas. But in the agitated haste, the boat could not be disentangled, and already the few were surrounded on all sides, and fists armed with sabres, axes and picks were raised against them. At this Murat surrendered: "Here you have my sword, but spare the lives of these brave men who have followed me into my misfortune!"

These words were only like an invitation to the enraged to turn their threats into action. Captain Pernice and Sergeant Giovannini fell to their deaths at Murat's side, Franceschetti fell to the ground badly hit, Lieutenant Moltedo and three others were wounded. They were seized, led or rather dragged, some of them barely able to carry themselves, into the village, under constant threats, punches and blows that spared the ex-king as little as his fellow victims. More than once an axe was raised to split Murat's head, if others had not intervened and prevented it. At this, speeches were heard which struck Joachim more sensitively than their weapons: "Were there not enough of these unfortunates? Had you not drunk your fill of the blood of your victims? Did you again need scaffolds and gallows?" He was almost completely stripped of his clothes, everything he carried was taken from him, and Trentacapilli did not miss a single thing: his money and his diamonds, his bills of exchange, his passport, everything he had to hand over. To seal his misfortune, a copy of his manifesto and his decree were found in his wallet, the incontestable proof of his hostile intention, the clear refutation of his pretence that he had only wanted to land on the coast in order to obtain the means to continue his journey to Trieste!

[angelbabyszn]

Heey! Can u make an imagine that Oscar fell in love with a black Brazilian girl in hospital where she's a doctor?? Thank u!! Love u posts!! 💕

Die For You (Oscar X Reader)

Gif by @merakiaes

Requested!

OMB Masterlist / Tag List

B/F/N - Best Friend L/N - Last Name

"Y/N, you won't believe who just got checked in!" B/F/N said with amazement while having their right hand out and their thumb pointing behind them as they walked into the break room.

"B/F/N, I already saw the poor teenage girl. I can't believe she hurt herself from doing the WAP challenge." you said with conviction and pop a fry with ketchup in your mouth.

"Okay, that's not my fault alright? She's should've stretched before." B/F/N sounding brittle with their arms crossed.

"B/F/N!"

"What? I'm just saying." B/F/N said and her mouth becomes tight-lipped.

"How did you got hired at this hospital?" you questioned as you shake your head in disappointment of your best friend.

"Cause you needed a nurse and I have a masters degree in nursing. Not so hard, Y/N." B/F/N said in a courteous manner.

B/F/N flipped their hair, making you rolled your eyes.

"Anyways, come on! You need to see this!" shouted B/F/N enthusiastically while jumping up and down a bit.

"This must be big news since you're jumping in place." you said calmly and take a drink of your bottle of water.

"Y/N, if you don't get your a*s out of that seat-"

"Okay, I'm coming! Geez." you informed as you quickly clean up your spot from lunch while eating a few more fries in the process.

"Hurry up!" B/F/N said urgently before walking out of the room with a beam on their face.

"I don't get paid enough to do this." you said dryly while walking out of the room with your phone and your half-drunken water.

-

"In here!" B/F/N said with excitement as they looked at you walking down to them while waiting next to a open room.

"What do you want to show me? This better be worth it because I basically threw away the rest of my lunch from Dwayne's BBQ Joint AND stop my break for you." you abruptly with your arms crossed.

"Well, I'm sorry, okay?" B/F/N apologetically and you roll your eyes. "This is worth it, because you won't believe who's here. After all these years."

"Okay, sure. I'll go with your "little game"" you said doubtfully as you use your fingers to quote.

B/F/N step away from the door and you entered the room with a sudden familiar presence in the room.

You look at the male on the patient's bed shirtless with blood flowing down their chest and abs. It looks like a gunshot.

You look at the males face and you gasped at the sight. It was Oscar Diaz. Bleeding heavily down his face and his eyes fluttering, about to close.

"B/F/N! Why you didn't tell me this earlier! Get Tiana and Ross now!" you reported loudly, making B/F/N jumped in fear and running down the hallway fast.

You quickly put your phone and water on the counter and rush over to him. You rolled up your sleeves and start to put pressure on his chest where he was bleeding.

"Diaz, I got you. I got you." you said with raised eyebrows while putting on the oxygen's mask on his face on with your right hand.

You turn the oxygen's tank on and you turn back to see Oscar breathing heavily through the mask.

"Shhh, take slow deep breaths." you said while looking into his eyes with wide eyes.

You heard Oscar saying something but you couldn't hear it over the mask.

"Don't speak. I got you now." you confronted while starting to caress his left cheek with your right hand and staring at him.

Oscar slowly lifted his left hand and put his hand overs yours. You gasped by the interaction and you look at your hand.

You quietly looked at your bloody hand over his rough, weak, and bruised hand. You felt your heart skip a beat while looking into this eyes again.

"Y/N..." Oscar said quietly through the oxygen mask while looking at you. He felt his body getting weaker, causing him to shut his eyes.

-

"Make sure he takes two pills a day so he can heal faster."

Oscar slowly opens his eyes but squints quickly due to the bright light above him.

He looks into the distance to see you talking to his brother, Cesar a few feet from him. He fixed his gaze at you in amazement and take notes of your appearance.

You felt a presence moved, causing you to turn your head and see Oscar's gaze at you.

"Well, looks who's awake." you amused with a small smile, causing Cesar to look at his brother.

"Spooky!" Cesar said with a smile on his face. He walks over and gave his brother a small hug, not wanting to hurt him.

"Spooky?"

"Yeah, that's my nickname. You should call me that, Ms. L/N." Oscar confirmed while sitting up on the bed and having his chest out.

"I am not calling you Spooky."

"You just did." Oscar said with a grin on his face and making eye contact with you.

You gasped softly as Oscar chuckle softly while wiggling his eyebrows. You couldn't believe this.

His behavior was on flirt mode now and you secretly enjoy it?

"No. Cross that out. Right now, Y/N. No. Focus on your job."  You thought as you Oscar winks at you.

You sigh loudly and put your left hand on your hip as you walk over to the clipboard with Oscar's health information. You grabbed it, flip a few pages, and write new notes on the page you need to write it at.

"The hermosa Y/N, when do I get out of here?" Oscar grinned as he gives his undivided attention on you without blinking.

"Soon. You can either stay here a few days or go back home and rest. If you decide to go home today, you have to stay home and one of our doctors would need to check up on you three days after. Also, call me Doctor L/N." you said calmly and took a glance at Oscar before looking down at the clipboard again.

"Does that mean I get to see you everyday now? We've haven't talked since high school." Oscar said with a beaming smile.

"Wait, you two used to go to Freeridge High?" asked a surprised Cesar with furrowed brows.

"Oh course, Lil Spooky. I was the popular, confident, flirty, handsome-"

"Okay, we get it." you interrupting his long description of himself with your arms crossed and rolling your eyes.

You heard about the exact same description every high school year, and that was enough you can handle.

"I was basically a popular loner who was always in their own world and minding business. Basically just went to school everyday to graduate. I graduate as one of the only Valedictorians in Freeridge High." you addressed to Cesar with a proud smile on your face.

"Nerd!" Oscar fake coughed, causing you to whip your head towards him with clench fists and an angry face.

"Why you!"

"Y/N! Calm down!" shouted B/F/N, while holding you back by wrapping their arms around your torso.

"Hermano, do you want some foo-"

Jamal walked into the room and he froze and stare with shocked eyes by what's going on. He quickly went over to Cesar.

"Awe, you look so cute mad. My little doctor." Oscar said while resting his hands behind his head and winking at you.

You raged even more, cussing you to jump to get closer to Oscar but you was pulled back again by B/F/N but with even more strength than before?

"Y/N!" B/F/N barked, causing you to quickly calmed down. You know you don't want to make B/F/N angry.

"I'm sorry! But he! He!..." you accused while pointing your left finger at a smirking Oscar and breathing heavily.

"Not worth it. Now, calm down." B/F/N comforted while rubbing your back. You replace your anger with calmness after a few deep breaths, causing you to be normal again.

"Boys, I apologize for my outrage. That was not part of my job description. Here." you said while maintaining eye contract to the shocked boys to show your honestly. You pull out fourth dollars and gave it to Cesar. "Go back some lunch at our awesome lunch cafeteria downstairs with your friends."

"Thank you, Doctor L/N." Cesar accepted and Jamal and him quickly walked out of the room.

You waved to them as they left. They waved back to you as you turn to your best friend again but you saw a males body that was towering over them.

"Who are you?" you asked looking up at the male with curiosity.

B/F/N turned around immediately croaked. It was their ex, Sad Eyes. Oh no.

"Sad Eyes?" B/F/N stutterers while trying to gaze at his eyes.

"Hi B/F/N." Sad Eyes mourned as he looks at his favorite girl in the world that he lost a long time ago.

"What are you doing here?" B/F/N questioned with cautioned.

"Spooky." Sad Eyes answered and he looks down at their outfit and they saw B/F/N's badge.

"You work here? I thought you left Freeridge." Sad Eyes supposed, remembering graduation, the day of their break up.

"I-I..." B/F/N started but trailed off into their mind. B/F/N chocked and they quickly ran out of the room.

"B/F/N! Wait! Let's talk!" Sad Eyes requested loudly while running after them.

"Wow. Wasn't that eventful? Anyways, let's actually check on you since you're awake." you confirmed while walking over to Oscar and setting up the warm up.

-

You did the regular check up routine and surprisingly, Oscar wasn't complaining or doing his regular flirt session.

He just did stares. A lot. And weird smiles that made his eyes crinkle. Weird...

"You're good. Looks like your little brother left these on his way. Take two a day, to release some pain from that gunshot. Which reminds, you wanna tell me how you got it?" you wondered while writing down your last observations and new information on Oscar's health records on the clipboard.

"Y/N, you know why." Oscar remarked in a dry tone.

"I know, you still don't deserve to be in this life. You could've been what you wanted, which was-"

"It's doesn't matter now. None of it matters. I would never be what I wanted when I was younger. Nobody don't want a man who have a bad history with the law. I was born into this life and I'm going to die in it. I can't change fate." Oscar with a sense of guilt and sadness to his voice.

You felt your heart breaking into pieces. What he was saying was true and you wish you could do something about to.

You slowly wrapped your arms around his neck softly, making Oscar tense for a few moments.

He hesitated for a few moments until later, he hugged you tightly, making you croaked. You didn't expect for him to hug you back.

Oscar softly wept by tears flowing down his face. He needed this hug. It was so hard for him to do this life everyday. Without no help.

-

A few days later, Oscar slowly wake up in the morning at home. He was waken up by pancakes?

Oscar's eyes quickly widened because he knows he was Cesar trying to cook again. He will not burn down the house today.

Oscar quickly throw his legs over, put a shirt he left on the bed last night on, and got off until he fell straight to the floor.

Oscar moaned in pain while holding his gunshot bandage around his torso. He completely forgot that he got shot.

"S*it!" Oscar shouted in pain as he clench himself into a ball while holding the bandage against his body.

He heard footsteps in his bedroom until they stopped. He looks ahead to see woman's sized shoes?

He looks up and he felt his heart jumping with desire. It was you, in your work outfit, looking as good like yesterday.

"Good morning." you beamed with a smile as you look down at him. "You need help?"

"Yes, please." Oscar begged, making you giggle as you got him up slowly.

-

"How you feeling? You okay?" you asked in a calming tone as you wrote and send emails on your laptop on the dining table. Oscar was eating the pancakes you made next to you.

"I am now." Oscar said in a voice full of affection. You turn your head and saw him with a big grin on his face while making eye contact.

You raised your eyebrow in confusion and turn your attention back to the computer.

"I see your flirtatious behavior haven't changed." you said and you did a exasperated sigh by the true fact.

"Nah, it increased. To the maximum. But just being with you. L/N, were you always this...hot?" Oscar wondered, making you quickly looked at him with wide eyes as he was taking a look at your whole appearance again like yesterday but in more detail.

"I've should've stayed in Brentwood. I forgot how Freeridge men can be so...aggressive." you said while glaring at Oscar sickly before closing your laptop and start putting it in your cover bag.

"I see those pills are working already. Make sure you're taking them everyday, okay? It's important to heal, especially from a gunshot." you consoled to Oscar as you gather your things on the coffee table in the living room.

"L/N, don't leave. See? I still need you! My gunshot bandage is starting to fall off." Oscar warned as he starts to get off slowly from the dining table. He was still pretty weak.

"Haha, very funny. You don't need me any-"

You turn around and you saw his bandage coming off oddly quickly. You grunted and then you pull out your bandage kit again.

"Shirt off." you demanded as you walked over to him with the bandage tape.

"Ooo, I like that. Say something else." Oscar pleaded as he tilts his head back, eyes closed, and sucking his lips after he took off his shirt.

"Ow!" shouted Oscar with his mouth open and raised eyebrows.

He heard a constant giggle and he turn his attention to you causing it. You just hit his gunshot bandage because what he said.

"You like that, don't you? You enjoy that?"

"Yeah, yeah. I did. But seriously, arms up." you demanded again with a serious face as you pull your sleeves of your doctor coat up.

Oscar immediately puts his arms up in the air and you start working.

-

"Finished!" you declared as you did a little jump at your finished work on wrapping bandage on Oscar's torso.

All of the sudden, you felt your bubble of personal space being entered by somebody else.

You slowly look up and you saw Oscar gazing at you again. His right arm was wrapped around your waist, causing you to tense up at bit.

"What are you doing? Are you okay? I think I'm hurting you." you asked in a small panicky voice as you tried to pull back out he pulls you back in close.

"I'm amazing." Oscar responded as he looks at you in desire. He took a piece of hair that was on the side of your face behind your ear very softly.

You felt your body getting closer to him by the energy happening between you two before you heard a loud sound outside the house.

A gunshot.

Oscar slowly unwrapped his arm around you and look at the front door waiting if there's was going to be more. Another gunshot went off and voices was quickly screaming and shouting.

"S*it!" shouted Oscar while slamming hit right fist on the dining table.

Oscar quickly pull out the gun behind his long shorts and click it on. You freeze and stare with wide eyes at the sight of Oscar.

You saw rage all over him. It was even more scarier now than he was doing fights in high school.

He have throbbing veins in his neck, a jutting chin, and clench fists. It was almost like you don't recognize him.

Oscar starts walking aggressively to the front door. You have to stop him. He just got shot!

"Oscar! Stop! You just got shot! Do you remember that?!" you barked at him.

Oscar ignored you and walked out of the front door. You quickly ran after him but quickly stopped at the pouch.

You put your right hand over your mouth because you was seeing the Prophet$ in front of your eyes for the first time. They look furious.

You quickly bend down behind the porch but peeked a bit to see what's going on. You see the Santos who's on the front lawn daily in a wide stance with clench fists.

Oscar was in front with the gun in his right hand standing in front of the Prophet$ that was in front of his property.

Latrelle stepped up in front of Cesar and Oscar.

"Tax time b*tches!" shouted Latrelle in a tune."

"I don't think so. So, how about get off our block or I'll blast on your a*s!" Cesar snapped back, causing Latrelle being fake shocked.

"Ooo, look everybody. Lil Spooky wants to be tough." Latrelle publicized and his whole gang start to laugh at Cesar trying to act tough.

"That's enough!"

Both gangs looked to the sudden female's outburst. Oscar's heart dropped when he saw you coming up. He don't like this already.

"Y/N! What are you doing?! Go back inside the house!" yelled Oscar. He don't want nothing happening to you.

"Ooo, Spooky got a girlfriend? Or that's your f*ck girl for the week? Looks like she's into foreplay." said Latrelle, causing his group to laugh again.

You felt rage entering your soul again. You couldn't believe a fifteen year old kid just said that about you.

You jumped at Latrelle but you couldn't reached him because Oso grabbed you by the waist.

"Let me go!" you yelled angrily. You felt heat coming out of your ears and nose.

Oso looks at Oscar for approval, and he nodded. Oso let go of your waist and you got back on your feet.

"Nevermind about you. I was about to kidnapped you and use you for my pleasure but what I just saw, you're just a another b*tch like every other Spooky's ladies." Latrelle advised as he walks over to you.

You started to tense up and starts to back up. None of the other Santos, Cesar, or Oscar couldn't helped you because they was either knocked out, shot, or grabbed by Prophet$ without them knowing.

"Y/N!" Oscar yelled out as he tries to get out of two strong Prophet$ arms.

"Oscar, I'm doing you a favor. Jay. You know what to do." said Latrelle as he backed up from you and a tall guy came over with a gun.

You was about to run away until you was grabbed and captured by two Prophet$ girls.

"Stop! Please!" you fumed out as tears was coming down your closed eyes. You couldn't believe that was happening to you. Was this the end?

You heard a gunshot and the sound wave off into the distance. You slowly opened your eyes and look around your body. You wasn't shot.

You looked ahead and felt your heart dropped to the ground into a million pieces.

You quickly knocked out the two Prophet$ girls easily before running over to what you saw. It was Oscar. He got shot again...for you.

You start to tremble as tears was rushing down your eyes quickly. You quickly put pressure on the new gunshot in his chest.

"Oscar!" you son and you bowed down into his shoulder.

You heard multiple movements in the background. You didn't care what was happening. You have to save him, that's all you can think of.

-

Oscar slowly open his eyes again until squints quickly by the bright light.

"What's with all these bright lights? S*it." Oscar groaned as he tries to move.

He looks around and he notice he was at the hospital again. He heard footsteps and looks into the distance to see a very familiar woman in their clean doctor suit.

"Y/N?" Oscar questioned softly but rough, causing you to look up from the clipboard.

"Oscar!" you beamed with happiness as you dropped the clipboard and pen onto the floor. You quickly rush over to him and did a passionate hug which he returns back.

You backed up and look at the man who saved your life. The man you never thought you was into til now.

"Why you do it?" you asked as you look at him with curious eyes. You need to know why.

It was so hard trying to save him again but gladly, you was able to get to bullet out of him with B/F/N nurse group without breaking down from him taking the shot for you.

"Why you asked?" Oscar questioned as he looks at the woman who he should've been with a long time ago.

You nodded and your softly wrapped your hands around his right bicep and feel it in anticipation.

"Cause I love you." answered Oscar, causing you to look at him frozen and staring into his eyes like is he serious.

"I love you Y/N L/N. Ever since high school. Ever since I saw your face again after all these years. You're the one. The woman who was in front of me this whole time and I didn't realized it til now. I would die for you. Literally. And I'll do it a thousands times more just to be with you." Oscar confesses as he looks at you with dilated pupils.

"I...I don't know what to say. You didn't have to." you stutter as you start to play with your hair to calm your anxiety.

Oscar grabs your right hand, causing you to stop playing with your hair. He pulls it up to his mouth and kiss it.

"I don't mind. I love you."

"I love you too." you said as you look at him with desire. Oscar beamed in happiness, causing him to grab your neck on the side with his left hand and pull you to his lips.

You was shocked at you but you immediately kiss him back passionately. The kiss grew more and more as feelings was passed to each other.

After the kiss, you went over to Oscar's left side and slide to lay next to him.

You and Oscar got comfortable in the little one person's patient bed. You placed your left hand on the first gunshot bandage to not hurt him as much.

"Feels like your first gunshot is halfway through healing." you said in a calming voice.

"It's feeling completely better with you." Oscar responded, making you smile.

You closed your eyes and wrap your arm around his torso as Oscar kiss you on the forehead with his eyes closed.

-

"Y/N? I'm going out!" shouted B/F/N as they entered the room. They freeze and awe at you and Oscar sleeping together on the patient bed.

"B/F/N, you coming?" Sad Eyes requested as he enters the room where B/F/N was. He stop and looks at you two sleep falling asleep from cuddling.

"I knew he have a crush on her back in high school." Sad Eyes states with a smile as he looks at his bro happy sleeping with his dream girl.

"We all knew. Let's go, baby." B/F/N said happily as they turn off the small lamp in the room.

B/F/N and Sad Eyes walked out of the room and left the hospital as you and Oscar continue sleeping together in each other arms for the rest of the night.

Tagged: @lillict

[bux-blurbs]

Dystopian fictions depict a negative view of "the way the world is supposedly going in order to provide urgent propaganda for a change in direction”. Susan Collin's Hunger Games, Veronica Roth's Divergent series and James Dashner's Maze Runner series are popular dystopian science-fictions which consist of a few similar concepts and they really are amazing novels to dig into. I much prefer to read books before watching the film adaptation so that I can imagine and creatively picture the characters and events. Dystopian worlds have existed in all sorts of forms - whether we look at Narnia under the White Witch or George Orwell's Animal Farm or Frank Herbert's Dune - but these science fiction dystopians are a new twist on the genre. A few glaring similarities between HG & Divergent: One guy character who is so incredibly perfect you wonder where they make these men. (Peeta, Four) Check. One main female character who emerges as a leader and grieves for the losses she has suffered as a result of War. (Katniss, Tris) Check. The main guy is subjected to some treatment which makes him think that his female love interest is his enemy. (Peeta is implanted with fake memories, Four is injected with simulation serum) Check. The people are divided into different sections and each section's population acts in a particular way or engages in a specific profession. (Districts, Factions) Check. We can find young protagonists who are pitted against each other in winner-take-all battles to the death which reflect to what adolescence have turned into. If you spend your early teens being told that your future depends on how well you do on your exams and on effectively simulating the appearance of a socially, politically, and artistically engaged super-being.... well, you have no problem identifying with youngish heroes who must emit a constant stream of miraculous exploits or be crushed. HUNGER GAMES The Capitol is the cruel Government of the twelve districts of Panem which holds a tournament every year called the Hunger Games. Each of the country's 12 districts must offer one girl and one boy between the ages of 12 and 18 to fight to the death on live TV. Katniss Everdeen, a 16-year-old girl from District 12, volunteers to take her younger sister Primrose's spot in the tournament. From her district, she's joined by Peeta Mellark. In the second book, Catching Fire, the Capitol are furious at Katniss for starting a second rebellion, so they create a special version of the Hunger Games for all the previous victors, which means that she and Peeta must return. During these games, they create a team of victors, who manage to destroy the arena and escape to District Thirteen, which most people thought did not exist. However, the Capitol capture Peeta, and they destroy District Twelve. The last book, Mockingjay tells the story of Katniss leading the revolution. They rescue Peeta, but he has been tortured and now he hates and fears Katniss. A team of rebels including Peeta and Katniss then go on a mission to assassinate President Snow in the Capitol, but Katniss' sister Primrose is killed by a bomb. Katniss later discovers that the president of the rebels made this bomb, so she kills her own president in place of Snow. She then returns to her home, District Twelve, to try to recover with Peeta. At the end of the book we see them married with two children. DIVERGENT When I first read Divergent, I was so awed that it got me hooked straightaway and I finished it in less than 24 hours. The story revolves around a young girl name Beatrice, aged sixteen, who lives in a divided society where people are split into five factions according to their personal qualities. The factions are Dauntless (the brave), Candor (the honest), Abnegation (the selfless), Amity (the peaceful) and Erudite (the intelligent), and each individual must choose a faction at the age of 16. 'Abnegation fulfills the need for selfless leaders in government; Candor provides trustworthy and sound leaders in law; Erudite supplies intelligent teachers and researchers; Amity gives understanding counselors and caretakers; and Dauntless provides protection from threats both within and without.' Her aptitude test result is Divergent which apparently means that she possess multiple personality traits. She eventually choose Dauntless during the Choosing Ceremony and strive to be a member of that faction, otherwise she'll turn out to be a factionless, in complete isolation and in abject poverty which sounds like a fate worse than death. Once, she entered into the Dauntless faction, she changed her name to Tris. Divergent reflects the contemporary division of our society and also all those who find it difficult to fit in, can also relate. I wonder what would have been my aptitude test and which faction I would ultimately choose and came to the conclusion that Candor and Amity suit me best. 'We Will Rock You' style: Clap, clap, stomp. Clap, clap, stomp. Clap, clap, stomp. Clap, clap, stomp. We are, we are DAUNTLESS We are, we are DAUNTLESS Beatrice, Now called Tris, Made a big change Playing on the trains, She became a Dauntless one day She's got mud on her face A parental disgrace Now she'll be kickin your ass all over the place Singin' We are, we are DIVERGENT We are, we are DIVERGENT Tobias is a Dauntless, Divergent Shoutin' to them all, We can take on the world today Erudite got blood on their face We'll put them in their place Into the past, out of our Fear Landscapes Singin' We are, we are INSURGENT We are, we are INSURGENT The simulation training is really fascinating. 'The simulation stimulate the amygdale which is responsible for processing fear, induce a hallucination based on fear, and then transmit the data to a computer to be processed and observed.'  'Learning how to think in the midst of fear is a lesson that everyone needs to learn.' 'It's basically a struggle between your thalamus, which is producing fear, and your frontal lobe, which makes decisions. But the simulation is all in your head, so even though you feel like someone is doing it to you, it's just you, doing it to yourself.'  The less number of fears you've got and the less time you take to confront your fear, the most successful you are. This also left me wondering about the numerous fears I'll face if ever I'd taken part in such simulation. The last book, Allegiant, revealed blatant truths about the world Tris was living in which boost up my excitement but that did not last longer. The fun and laughter is over. I remember finding myself staring blankly in disbelief as it was an ending I absolutely didn't see coming and to be honest, I find the main character's sacrifice comes off as utterly meaningless. As it turns out, the world has apparently been so full of assholes that the government decided to eliminate the genes in citizens that caused dishonestly, selfishness, cowardice, stupidity, and aggression. Unfortunately, this backfired and just created more assholes that were more asshole-y than before, that is genetic damaged people. Hence, the government constructs gigantic city-sized behavioural experiments all across the country and get volunteers who had their genes screwed with to have their memories wiped and stick them into a city and force them to choose a faction. Eventually these people will reproduce enough times until they finally manage to have "genetically pure" (a.k.a. Divergent) babies that are free from messed up genes. The story shifted from the old unresolved conflict between the factionless and the factions to a whole new conflict between the genetically pure and the genetically damaged people. Much time and energy are spent fighting for something that isn't really a problem for the most probable reason: they have been taught that it is a problem. MAZE RUNNER The story starts off with a boy named Thomas who find himself in a strange place called the Glade where there are other guys known as Gladers. Outside the glade is a maze which has to be solved for the Gladers to be out. There is one threat stopping them from figuring out the maze, one threat stopping them from going out at night and from going too far into the maze, horrific animals that go by the names of grievers which are giant bug-like creatures. Many of them lost their lives fighting grievers and finding their way back, but eventually the rest of them made it till the end only to discover that they are all suffering from the most horrible disease known to mankind called The Flare. In the second book, The Scorch Trials, some of the boys discover another group of girls who also underwent the same experiment. Solving the maze was supposed to be the end but instead of freedom the Gladers find themselves faced with another trial. Burned by sun flares and baked by a new, brutal climate, much of the earth is a wasteland. They met Cranks who are people covered in festering wounds and driven to murderous insanity by the Flare, roam the crumbling cities hunting for their next victim... and meal. They must cross the Scorch, the most burned-out section of the world, and arrive at a safe haven in two weeks. In the last book, The Death Cure, we learn more about the Flare. The Flare virus was engineered by the founder of World In Catastrophe Kill-zone Experiment Department (WICKED) in an attempt to control the human population because there was so many people dying, the founder says that the virus was supposed to wear off after a while but the virus got out of control and now only the immunes can stop it before the virus kills all of the human species. Nothing mentions on how the immunes were suddenly 'immune' to the virus, and the number of them is massive, it is like as if it is an experiment to see who is strong enough to withstand the heat, this basically indicates that if they can survive the Flare virus, they can survive the heat, but that got out of control so they are now killing and experimenting on the immunes. In the end, everyone goes through the Flat Trans, and on the other side is a paradise. Like a legit paradise with green everywhere and an ocean and everything. So, eventually the Gladers really made it and are free. But that's not really the end. We get another epilogue with a memorandum from Chancellor Paige. In her memorandum, she says that the paradise for Thomas and the 200 or so Immunes was WICKED's Plan B. Once their Plan A had been ruined, they decided the only way to save the human race was to get a bunch of immune people to start civilization all over again; to do this, she made Brenda and Jorge help Thomas make it to paradise. In the end, WICKED does end up saving the human race, despite the awful crimes they've committed against humanity.

[ofsalvo-a-blog]

*     PERSONALITY TESTS     !

tagged by:     @antialibi my precious   !   thank u <3 tagging:    anyone who wants to honestly   ,   i don’t want people to feel excluded   !

ZODIAC  SIGN:     taurus.               ruled by the persistent and plodding bull, taurus energy has two speeds.   it’s either relaxed and contented (   like a steer luxuriating in a verdant pasture   ) or hyped-up and ready to charge.   (   toro, toro   !   ) this zodiac sign has a built-in energy conservation program.   it will patiently assess whether something is worth the investment of time and resources.   then if the green light flashes,    it’s all systems go   !  until then,   slow and steady wins the taurus race.   this sign encourages us to break our work into simple steps then take daily action.   taurus is the sign of the builder,   helping us create concrete results for our diligent efforts.   under the influence of a taurus planetary transit,   we roll up our sleeves and get the job done.   the positive essence of taurus energy shows up as patient,   organized,   supportive,   romantic,   careful,   and dedicated.   on the flipside,   taurus energy can also be overindulgent,   stubborn,   lazy,   vain,   tightfisted and too cautious.   routine-loving taurus can get us stuck in our comfort zones and habits.   make sure that consistency doesn’t turn into stagnation or inertia.

MYERS - BRIGGS:     enfp,   the campainer.                     The enfp personality is a true free spirit.   they are often the life of the party,   but unlike explorers,   they are less interested in the sheer excitement and pleasure of the moment than they are in enjoying the social and emotional connections they make with others.   charming,   independent,   energetic and compassionate,   the 7% of the population that they comprise can certainly be felt in any crowd.

enfps are fiercely independent,   and much more than stability and security,   they crave creativity and freedom.

more than just sociable people-pleasers though, enfps, like all their diplomat cousins,   are shaped by their intuitive (   n   ) quality,   allowing them to read between the lines with curiosity and energy.   they tend to see life as a big,   complex puzzle where everything is connected – but unlike analysts,   who tend to see that puzzle as a series of systemic machinations, enfps see it through a prism of emotion,   compassion and mysticism,   and are always looking for a deeper meaning.

FOUR  TEMPERAMENTS:     sanguine.                 fundamentally  spontaneous and pleasure-seeking,   sanguine people are sociable and charismatic.    they tend to enjoy social gatherings,   making new friends,   and tend to be boisterous.     they are usually quite creative and often daydream.     however,   some alone time is crucial for those of this temperament.     sanguine can also mean sensitive,   compassionate,  and thoughtful.     sanguine personalities generally  struggle with following tasks all the way through,   are chronically late,   and tend to be  forgetful and sometimes a little sarcastic.     often,   when they pursue a new hobby,   they lose interest as soon as it  ceases to be engaging or fun.     they are very much  people persons.     they are talkative and not shy.     sanguines generally have an almost  shameless nature,   certain that what they are doing is right.     they have no lack of confidence.

CELTIC  ZODIAC:     hawthorn,   the illusionist.                       hawthorn signs in Celtic tree astrology  are not at all what they appear to be.     outwardly,   they appear to be a certain persona,   while on the  inside  hawthorn’s are quite different.     they put the term   “ never judge a book by its cover ”   to the test.     they live  seemingly average lives while on the inside they carry  fiery passions and inexhaustible creative flame.     they are  well adjusted and can  adapt to most life situations well     –     making themselves content and  comforting others at the same time.     you are  naturally curious,   and have an interest in a broad range of topics.     you are an excellent listener,   and people seek you out as an outlet to release their burdens.     you have a healthy  sense of humour,   and have a clear understanding of irony.     you tend to see the big picture,   and have amazing insight    –     although you typically won’t give yourself enough credit for your observations.

SOUL  TYPE:     leader and spiritualist.                         leader   :    it would be hard to imagine you being anything but the leader in any group.   in fact,   taking any kind of subservient role may feel demeaning to you.   as a leader type,   you have a natural air of authority,   and a charisma that makes you stand out in a crowd.   (   think how out of place elvis might have appeared if he’d stood in the background playing saxophone instead of being the front man.   )   you bring to this life an innate wisdom,   which is why people will look to you for advice.  you may sometimes make decisions on your own without thinking to involve others,   and once you’ve made up your mind,   you may be reluctant to change it.   this may work in an emergency,    but in other circumstances,   it can give the impression that you are arrogant or condescending.  it can be hard to find good role models,    given the scarcity of leader types,   but you can always refer to history to see how individuals such as alexander the great and john f. kennedy used their leadership skills.   not every leader becomes a president,   of course,   and many end up in humbler circumstances.   you can always recognize leaders by their inner confidence and occasionally by their coterie of followers or assistants.

spiritualist   :   what unites spiritualists is a deeply held belief in a world beyond this one.   you will have a desire to express your spirituality in some way,   and may be drawn to religion or other spiritual practices.   many spiritualists are highly intuitive,   which is why you may have had psychic experiences in the past and why you will tend to use your sixth sense when it comes to decisionmaking.   you have a great deal of compassion and may feel a strong need to create a better world,   or to help people make the best of their lives.   charities and   nonprofits are places where you and other spiritualists can express your soul’s desire to help others.   whatever work you choose,   you must feel you have a higher purpose.   it is not enough for a spiritualist type to simply pick up a check at the end of the week.   there has to be a feeling that someone has benefited from your efforts.   that’s why many doctors and healers are spiritualists.   whether you know it or not,   you frequently inspire others through your behavior.   by expressing spiritualist values such as compassion,   fairness,   honesty and altruism,   you encourage others to live by these values—especially younger spiritualists who will wish to emulate you.

ALIGNMENT:     chaotic good.                   a chaotic good character acts as his conscience directs him with little regard for what others expect of him.   he makes his own way,   but he's kind and benevolent.   he believes in goodness and right but has little use for laws and regulations.   he hates it when people try to intimidate others and tell them what to do.   he follows his own moral compass,   which,   although good,   may not agree with that of society.   chaotic good is the best alignment you can be because it combines a good heart with a free spirit.   chaotic good can be a dangerous alignment when it disrupts the order of society and punishes those who do well for themselves.

DARK  TRIAD:      machiavellianism.               machiavellianism is a tendency to be  manipulative and deceitful.     it usually stems from a lack of respect or disillusionment for others.     

THE ANIMAL IN YOU:     wolf.                          the rugged wolf is athletic,   good-looking and brimming with self-confidence.   a close relative of the domestic dog,   it is stronger and more aggressive,   managing to generate notoriety wherever it marks its territory.   the wolf's dark reputation is mainly due to jealousy of its consistent success in work and romance.   a wolf in full stride is quite impressive.   firing orders at subordinates while on the phone to customers,   no one can get the job done quite as efficiently as the wolf.   with an innate understanding of the value of teamwork,   it's always ready to take its place in the chain of command either as leader or as simply a member of the pack.   when a wolf decides to innovate,   it makes sure that it has the backing of a capable team.   the wolf is clear-headed and strong-minded,   always willing to compromise in the interests of getting a job done.   wolves are facially expressive and readily communicate their emotional states with body language.   they work hard at developing their social relationships,   although unlike their cousin the dog they are quick to anger when they sense threats to the social order.   when confrontations occurs,   they sometimes react suddenly and violently,   barking displeasure at offending subordinates.   close companions know to avoid their biting tongue until they resume their normal gregarious behavior.

ROSENBERG  SELF  ESTEEM  SCALE:      0    |    1    |    2    |    3    |    4    |    5    |    6    |    7    |    8    |    9    |    10    |    11    |    12    |    13    |  14  |    15    |    16    |    17    |    18    |    19    |    20    |    21    |    22    |    23    |    24    |    25    |    26    |    27    |    28    |    29    |    30

BRAIN  LATERALIZATION  TEST:     right,   66%.                       right brain dominant individuals are more visual and intuitive.     they are better at summarizing multiple points,   picking up on what’s not said,   visualizing things,   and  making things up.      they can lack attention to detail,   directness,   organization,   and the ability to explain their ideas verbally,   leaving them unable to communicate effectively.

[fourjokersandajudge]

Impractical Jokers, Season 1, Episode 5 "Drawing a Blank"

Liveblogging observations/opinions:

Five episodes in...how’m I doing?  :)  I am really enjoying the journey.

CHALLENGE ONE: DISASTER DATES

The guys are on the streets of NYC posing as beat reporters.  They have to interview strangers to give quotes to be used in news articles by asking questions that the other guys have written for them.  If they refuse to ask the questions provided, they lose.

Murr’s turn - His first topic is laws regarding sex.  He asks a group of three people if sexual predators should have to identify themselves to which all three answered in the affirmative.  Then Murr adds “Well, I’m James Murray then.” 

His second topic is space exploration.  He approaches a young man and asks him “Do you have any interest in letting me explore Uranus?”  LOL!!!!  He can’t get through the question and therefore, takes the thumbs down.

Q’s turn - At first, Q struggles to find a willing participant.  LOL @ the other guys making fun of the way he speaks.  Eventually he gets a small group of people to give a quote.  His topic is women’s health.  He tries to asks the group “Do you think titty implants are healthy?” but he struggles to get the words out.  The young man in the group grabs Q’s notepad and says that he will ask the question.  The young man actually has to translate the question for the two young ladies as it appears that they don’t understand English.  When the question is translated, the two girls laugh but don’t answer, appearing to not fully understand the questions.  Q jumps in and tries to reiterate the question (really, he just keep repeating the word “titties”...but that’s neither here nor there.  LOL)  Eventually they say no...and Q gets the win.

Joe’s turn -  Joe approaches a young man who agrees to participate.  Joe’s topic is weather.  He asks the young man, “When people say ‘it’s hot as balls’, how hot is the average ball?”  The guy is confused a bit, so Joe tries to explain his question.  The young man eventually answers “80 degrees”.  LOL!!!!!!!!  Sal and Q laugh heartily at the response.

A short montage is shown of Joe asking different questions of various people.  I loved it when he tries to ask a couple of girls a question and the girls decline by saying that they didn’t speak English to which promptly points out “But you just said that in English!”  HA HA!   He finally gets a young lady to stop and answer “Do you think that it’s time for the subways to install toilets in the subway cars because I don’t want to sh*t my pants again?”  The girl quickly answers “no”.

Sal’s turn - Sal’s first topic is prostitution in America.  He asks a young lady nervously how much the average white male should have to pay for a handjob.  Sal.  The young lady considers the question, Sal starts to repeat it and the young lady’s mother walks up to them.  Sal nervously says, “Oh hello mom...how are you?” Q tells Sal to ask the mother the question.  Sal decides to no longer ask the question saying that he’s deciding to quit his job.  Thumbs down!

LOSER - SAL and MURR

While Joe was giving his little recap of the first challenge, Q was looking off to the side....not sure what he was looking at.  LOL

CHALLENGE TWO:  SKETCHY ARTISTS

The guys are in a mall posing as caricature artists.    LOL at Joe when he said “big head” and pointed at Q and “little body” and pointed at Murr.  Someone else has pre-drawn the sketches, but the guys have not seen them. The first time that their “client” sees the drawing will be the first time the Joker sees it to.  The goal is to get a tip from the mark.  If they don’t, they lose.

Murr’s turn - Murr quickly gets a willing participant who sits down in a chair while Murr starts to “draw” her.  Murr and the young lady flirt with each other throughout, and Joe tells him that he can get a date afterwards.  Sal’s look of anticipation as Murr reveals the sketch is hilarious. The sketch is an exaggerated drawing of a young white lady with red hair and VERY large boobs.  When he shows his “client”, she just laughs and looks away...then she tells him it’s horrible.  When Murr mentions a tip, the young lady just laughs and tell him he needs a new job...but ultimately gives him a small tip.  Thumbs up!

Joe’s turn - A young lady has sat down in the chair.  Joe has to tell her that her hair smells good...like taco meat.  LOL!!!!  After he’s done, he reveals his sketch - two snowmen who are engaging in a lovemaking session.  Joe gives the drawing to the girl and tells her that there’s no charge for it, but that he will accept tips.  Not only did she NOT give him a tip, she also left the sketch sitting on the table next to Joe.  Uber-fail!  LOL

Q’s turn - Q quickly gets a young lady who’s keen to participate.  Joe tells Q to ask how much of the “Cleveland, Ohio” he should include in the sketch and point at her cleavage. He asks the question and she answers “as much as you want.”  Q flips the sketch revealing a young white lady who’s sitting on a toilet and really trying hard to do her business.  When shown the drawing, the young lady laughs and gives Q a $5 tip.  Q offers to sign the drawing for her.  I wonder if she still has it.  What a funny and unique memento that would be to have...LOL!

Sal’s turn - Sal gets a young man to sit down in the chair.  Joe tells him to say “they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  In your case, yikers!”  Sal flips over the sketch to reveal Adolph Hitler eating a banana.  Sal almost looks hesitant to show Raj (the young man), but he eventually does.  LOL  Raj laughs and says “it’s totally differents”, but decides to give Sal a $5 tip.  Joe’s flipping out reaction to the tip is hilarious!  LOL!!

LOSER - JOE

CHALLENGE THREE:  OPEN HOUSE (of Horrors)

The guys are conducting interviews to strangers who have applied to become their new roommates.  The guys have to give each applicant a tour of the apartment, interview them, and apprise them of their unique living habits.  While explaining out the challenge would work, Joe tells us that he and Murr are currently roommates.

For some reason, no one answered Q’s fake ad...I have NO idea why...he didn’t look THAT menacing in it.  LOL!!  So...bottom line, Q didn’t participate in the challenge.

Joe’s turn - A man named Tim is Joe’s applicant.  Joe starts giving him a tour of the apartment.  The first strange item Tim observes is a log (hanging on the wall by the bathroom) that Joe keeps of his bowel movements.  Joe then starts the interview portion.  He is told to tell Tim that he sleeps nude, sleepwalks, and has very loud orgasms.  Joe throws a quick glance towards one of the cameras and  then proceeds to demonstrate - a very high pitched screechy sound.  LOL!  Tim agrees to become his roommate.  Thumbs up.

Throughout this challenge, as they show the other three guys in the back, there is a LOT going on behind them.  Hard to really see much, but it looks like people moving around furniture.  Might just be the production crew.  Weird. 

Sal’s turn - Sal’s applicant is a man named Frank, who brings a friend with him.  Sal introduces himself with a deadfish handshake.  He starts giving Frank a tour of the place - he tells Frank to follow him and then proceeds to powerwalk very quickly back to his bedroom.  They go to begin the interview, but first Sal goes into the kitchen and a wine glasses filled with water.  He plants himself down on the couch to speak to Frank and his friend...first handing one of the waters to the friend.  Frank is already visibly unsure of the situation.  As they are speaking, Sal is told to raise his glass higher and higher.  Then he is told to take the water away from the friend and hold that one up high in his other hand.   He is told to slowly sit on the floor...and then to lie down.   While still lying down, he slowly uses his legs to push himself out of the room.  Frank and his friend are very perplexed.  When asked to move in, Frank is non-committal and says that he’s still got a few other places to see first.  Thumbs down.

Murr’s turn - Sidan is the name of the man who is Murr’s applicant and wow, is he enthusiastic!  LOL!!!  Sidan is VERY excited to be there and Murr is told to try to match his enthusiasm.  Joe, Sal, and Q are cracking up watching Murr try to keep up with Sidan.    Murr give a quick tour of the place.  When they go back to the living room to do the interview, Murr jumps up on top of the sofa and starts bouncing on it.  Sidan does it too.  LOL @ two grown men bouncing very happily on the couch.    Also LOL at W, Joe, and Sal also jumping up and down.  HA HA!!!  Of course, Murr gets a thumbs up.

LOSER-SAL

During the challenge summary, Murr continues to bounce on the sofa while Q looks at him as though he’s very annoyed.  He’s grateful that he didn’t have to participate in the challenge.

CHALLENGE FOUR: LINE JUMPERS

The guys are back on the streets of NYC at a place where discounted Broadway show tickets are sold.  Their goal is to cut the line, get to the front, and buy tickets. If they are thrown out of the line before scoring tickets, they lose.

Murr’s turn - He climbs under one of the switchback ropes to start his journey.  He continues to climb under more ropes to cut the line under the guise of him taking pictures with his phone.  About halfway through, he is spotted by someone working security for the line.   A guy in line approaches Murr and forces him out, threatening to call security in the process.  A loss for Murr.

Sal’s turn - Sal approaches the roped off line and unclips a barrier to let himself in.  Immediately, a couple who is in the line calls him out on it.  He tries to do a little song and dance to justify his place in the line, but security quickly approaches and escorts him out of the line.  Thumbs WAY down!

Joe’s turn - Joe strategy is to go through the line yelling for his imaginary friend “Larry” who’s supposedly further up in the queue.  The other three guys admire his approach until he gets confronted by someone in the line who forces him out. A loss for Joe.

Q’s turn - Q has the most aggressive and ballsy approach to the challenge.  He just approaches the line and passes each person in it until he gets to the ticket window, all the while saying “I don’t wait on lines!”  He is the only one who’s successful in getting the tickets and a thumbs up.  The other three guys seem to be quite amazed that Q’s approach worked.

LOSER-MURR, SAL, and JOE

EPISODE LOSER - SAL

Punishment time - Sal is brought to a bookstore (Book Culture).  He is posing as the author of a brand new book who’s at the store to do a reading of his work.  Poor Sal looks so nervous as he is prepping to do the task.  He starts.  The fictional book title is “Keeping the Faith:  My Battle with Chronic Flatulence”.  LOL!!!!  He picks up a copy of the book sitting in front of him to begin reading, but is shocked to see that all of the pages are blank, forcing him to make it up on the spot. Joe, Murr, and Q very much enjoy Sal’s embarrassment and they laugh very intensely in the back.  LOL @ the way uses the book to cover his face as he leaves.

Number of belly laughs:  10

My personal rating - 7 (out of 10)

[letterfromtrenwith]

Les trois Français - Ch. 7, 8 & 9

A crime/mystery AU

1793. After returning from the Americas to find only disappointment and heartbreak in Cornwall, Ross Poldark fled the place he once called home. Several years later, he leads a disordered, secretive life as one of London’s infamous Bow Street Runners, losing himself in the city’s murky alleyways and dark criminal workings.

His Aunt Agatha’s declining health finally convinces him to go back to Trenwith, the Poldark family home. There, he finds his cousin Francis, the county’s chief magistrate, embroiled in the perplexing case of the murders of three French emigres. Unable to resist the lure of a mystery, Ross must confront local politics, long-neglected friends, old enemies and lost loves in order to find the truth.

- Some new information, and a disturbing development.

~

Chapter 7

“I don’t recall this place.” Truro had not changed a great deal in the decade or so Ross had been away from it – Perrin the drapers, Sharrow the bookseller, The Red Lion Inn, all familiar from his youth. Not this establishment – although that was rather too grand a word for it –  the grimy, flaking sign over the small shop front proclaiming it as ‘R. F. Moreton, Licensed Pawnbroker’.

“Much cause to visit a pawnbroker in your youth, cousin?” Francis asked with the raise of an eyebrow, before laughing. “As much as it may not look it, Mr Moreton only set up shop here a half a dozen years ago. Come from Coventry, out of their sight of their law-men.”

“A fence?”

“Undoubtedly,” agreed their companion. William Henshawe Sr had been an acquaintance and sometime business associate of Ross’ father, but the eldest son had evidently chosen a different path. Francis described the man as the only truly useful constable he had been able to recruit. A solid, dependable-looking man with quick, intelligent eyes and a calm, friendly face. “But he chooses to be occasionally useful, so we allow him a bit of leeway. A necessary evil, like.”

“Ah.” Ross was not unfamiliar with such arrangements.

“He’s remarkably honest otherwise, relatively speaking.” Francis added. “With his genuine clients.”

“You believe he has something pertaining to the French murders?”

“He claims so. Something we need to see, so he says.” The shop was not open yet, so Henshawe tugged the ratty bell pull before hammering on the door when no answer was immediately forthcoming.

“All righ’, all righ’, don’t be batterin’ a man’s door in.” A weasel-like face appeared in a murky crack between door and frame, brightening into an obsequious smile when its owner recognised his visitors. “Ah, Cons’able - and the chief magistrate hisself! What an ‘onor for an ‘umble man such a meself. And who be this fine gen’leman?”

“Captain Poldark is a Bow Street Runner, assisting us in this matter.” Francis answered, flatly, evidently unmoved by the man’s ingratiating manner.

“Oh, ‘ow very excitin!” He waved them into a dark, cramped hallway leading into an equally cramped shop, high shelves stacked haphazardly with clocks, pottery, folded cloths and all manner of other goods sold off for desperately needed money – or to hide stolen property. Moreton edged behind a counter, leaving Ross, Francis and Henshawe pressed rather uncomfortably close together on the other side.

“Well, man, show us what you have. And if you are wasting our time…” Henshawe dropped his voice menacingly, and Moreton held up his hands beseechingly.

“Jus’ a minute!” He reached under the counter, bringing up an object wrapped in a bit of ragged cloth. Laying it down, he pulled back the fabric to reveal a knife – a long, thin blade with some sort of detailed handle. With some difficulty, the three law men crowded closer, Ross ending up peering over Francis’ shoulder as his cousin bent to look more closely.

“Bring some more light, will you?” The unwashed windows let in little of what light fell onto the side street housing the shop. Moreton brought over an old brass candelabra, thankfully without further comment. With better illumination, Ross could see that it was some sort of dagger, rather like the type Ross had seen amongst the Italian tradesmen in London, what they called a stiletto. The handle was not wood, however.

“Is that…?”

“Mother o’ pearl, I do believe.” Moreton declared. “A very fine piece, indeed.”

“So why show it to us instead of send it along for the pretty penny it is no doubt worth?” Francis asked, and Ross concurred with his suspicious tone. A country-town Cornish pawnbroker was unlikely to come across something so valuable very often, if at all. Turning it over the magistrates was not exactly good business practice.

“Well, considerin’ how fine it is, I assumed the fella what sold it to me didn’t come about it entirely honest, like. And that folk might be lookin’ fer it, and that if they were, old Moreton would be first port o’call for Mr. Henshawe ‘ere.”

“But you sent for me, Moreton.”

“I did that, sir. On account o’this.” He tilted the knife, exposing the place where the blade met the handle. Someone stood on Ross’ foot as they attempted to huddle even closer, but he barely felt it as he concentrated on the small red-brown mark at the hilt.

“Is that..?”

“Blood.”

~

“It might mean nothing. Blood on a sharp knife is hardly remarkable.”

“But an expensive knife sold off relatively cheap to a pawnbroker a short while after a murder shouldn’t be ignored.” Francis frowned, steadying himself as his horse picked its way around a puddle.

“You’re right, but if it’s just a dead end, we’ve wasted valuable time, especially if the Admiralty starts breathing down our necks again.”

“Indeed. I confess I do not like the notion that their agents have been operating here without my knowing of it. Not as much as I dislike the thought of a French spy, of course, but still.”

“You had no notion of either?”

“None whatsoever. Of course, the English agents will know how we work, how to avoid us. They could be anyone. But a French agent…I can’t shake the idea that that might have something to do with these murders.”

“I agree. Especially since there seems to be no obvious motive for du Pas or d’Aubigné’s murders.”

“Perhaps the spy killed them to cover his tracks?” Francis mused. “But Dwight says they were killed by different men. And I believe him to be right.”

“More than one spy?”

“Lord, I hope not.”

They were on their way to Killewarren to consult with Dwight about the knife, taken from a petulant Moreton, not pleased to have been rewarded for his public service with only a few coins – a fraction of the weapon’s true value.

“The price of honesty, Mr Moreton.” Francis had smiled, tucking the knife into his coat.

Moreton had been unable to given them much detail about the man who pawned it, bar a brief description of a stocky man with brown hair and a scar on the back of his hand. It was something and nothing. For fear of rousing suspicion, he could not have asked the man too many questions, especially not where he had got the knife.  

Henshawe had been despatched to find a couple of other constables and rout every informant and known lowlife they could find in an attempt to locate this person. It was long shot, but as Ross well knew, luck was a great friend to a lawman.

Dwight was thankfully at home when they arrived, Caroline looking crestfallen when told it was not a social call. She did manage to extract a promise from Francis that he and his sister would come for dinner soon, and retreated back into her sitting room looking triumphant, her little fat dog waddling behind her.  

“That woman is a force of nature.” Francis muttered as they followed a liveried footman to Dwight’s study. Ross chuckled – he hadn’t had much opportunity to meet his old friend’s wife, but he was rather impressed by her. Despite appearances, he thought that the serious, intellectual Dwight and the lively young woman were probably rather well matched.  

Dwight took the knife with interest, concurring that the stain upon it was indeed blood. He brought a mounted magnifying glass to a small table near the window and examined the weapon closely.

“Look, it’s been wiped. See the streaks here.” In better light it was indeed possible to see fine lines where someone had attempted to clean the blade.

“Could this knife have been used to kill either of our Frenchmen?” Ross asked. It annoyed him that he had not seen the bodies – he had heard Francis’ accounts, and read Dwight’s notes, but as excellent as they were, they were no substitute for his own observation. He felt at a disadvantage coming to this case so late, and he could feel a touch of excitement at the thought that this might finally, finally be a clue.

“Wait a moment.” Dwight searched through a pile of papers on his desk, returning with a sheet showing a neat drawing of what Ross realised was a knife-wound. “This was du Pas’ wound, a single strike through the back, piercing his heart. This blade is certainly long enough…and I believe it is the right shape also.”

“So, we could well have the weapon which killed du Pas…but not his killer.” Francis made a face. Ross looked back at him.

“Yet.”

Francis was pensive as they mounted their horses a short while later. Dwight had agreed to make an official report confirming that the knife was a good match for du Pas’ wounds, but also reiterated his original conclusion than an entirely different blade had been used on d’Aubigné.

“This is somewhat beyond my purview, so feel free to ignore me, but in my experience, the sort of injuries done to d’Aubigné – particularly the more…intimate ones – suggest someone acting in a great rage. Stabbing a man once is one thing, doing so two dozen times and mutilating him in such a fashion is an entirely different one.”

Ross was entirely inclined to agree with the doctor, and Francis had concurred also. On their way out, Ross lingered in the doorway, wanting to say something to Dwight, make some pathetic attempt at making amends for being such a poor friend for so long.

“Dwight…I must apologise for – “ Dwight looked up from the desk he had returned to, and shook his head, smiling.

“There is nothing to apologise for, my friend. Do not concern yourself.”

Ross was not sure he could have been quite so forgiving in Dwight’s shoes, but chose to be thankful for his friend’s good grace.

Turning out of Killewarren’s sweeping driveway, Ross was about to suggest they track down Henshawe and see if he had made any progress even in the relatively short time since they left him, when they were hailed by a call from behind them.

“Sirs! Sirs!” A young man came running up the road from the direction of Trenwith and Nampara; he skidded to a halt next to their horses, breathing heavily. It took him a few attempts to speak further, in the meantime thrusting a note into Francis’ hand. “Miss Demelza asks you come, sirs. She – hoo! – she says do ‘ave summin’ important for ye. Ugh.”

The young man gratefully accepted a few coins from Francis in reward for his message, as well as being ushered to Killewarren’s stable-yard, where the horsemaster agreed to give him some ale and let him sit a while. Ross and Francis immediately thereafter set off to find Demelza – who was one and the same as the Miss Carne Ross had been introduced to a few days earlier – following her instructions to meet her at a cottage in Sawle.

They found her sitting outside the little house, sharing a rugged wooden bench with another young woman – a pretty, soft-featured blonde who looked vaguely familiar to Ross.

“Mr Poldark, Captain, this is Emma Tregirls.”

“Tregirls?” Ross knew her instantly. “Tholly’s daughter?”

“Aye, sir.” Emma smiled. Tholly had been an employee of Ross’ father many years ago – a complete rogue by any stretch of the imagination, but a loyal servant. Tholly had never married Emma’s mother so far as Ross knew, but Ross had met the girl a few times when she was just a child.

“How is your father?”

“Dead, sir. Drowned.”

“I am sorry to hear it.” Both Emma and Demela had made disapproving faces at her words, so Ross surmised that whatever Tholly had been doing at the time of his death it had not been legal. Still, it was a sad end for a man Ross remembered with fondness.

“Your message, Demelza?” Francis hadn’t bothered with addressing her formally, and Ross took note of the familiar, almost intimate, way they looked at each other. Now was not the time to consider that further, however.

“It is Emma who wishes to speak to ye. She do serve at the kiddly, and overheard somethin’ I think may be very important.”

“Aye, Sirs.” Emma frowned a little, as if gathering her thoughts. “A man were in last night, payin’ for folks’ beer and drinkin’ hisself merry, boastin’ about ‘ow ‘e ‘ad ‘made ‘is fortune’ and the like. ‘Twould have thought nothin’ of it – a good night at card table or cock-fight and every man’s King Midas! – but when ‘e did come to pay he did give me a silver coin, and said ‘Ave some o’ that French bounty, me darlin’.”

“Do you still have the coin?” Francis asked. Ross had felt him go tense next to him at Emma’s words, and knew he shared his sense of excitement. This could be even more significant than the knife.

“No, sir. I ‘ad to turn it over to old Roger – he do own t’kiddly, and would ‘ave known if there were money missing – but I did ‘ide it when the man handed it over, so as no one else would see it.” Ross was impressed with her foresight – if anyone else in that ale-house had seen the coin, the man who handed it over could well have set himself up for a robbery, at the very least. He could have done it with his boasting alone.

“Do you know this man’s name? Or can you describe him?”

“No name. But ‘e were biggish man, although not fat like. Dark ‘air, scruffy. And he did have a scar on the back of ‘is hand.”

Chapter 8

The note had come to George’s office at about four o’clock, and he had to admit to being surprised by it. Francis, Ross and the constables had arrested a man for the murder of M. d’Aubigné. This man had apparently admitted taking an expensive knife from the scene of d’Aubigné’s murder, as well as a bag of French coins from the man’s body.

“So, d’Aubigné was robbed?” Elizabeth asked later, after he had relayed the information. They sat in their private sitting room after dinner, where they knew they would not be disturbed. George trusted most of his servants implicitly, but it was never for the best to discuss such things too openly. Not in front of the children, certainly – and not merely because such things were not suitable for young ears. Valentine and Ursula were both highly inquisitive and intelligent, not quite old enough to fully understand, but old enough to take in just enough that they could be liable to repeat things best not repeated.

“It appears so.”

“But did you not say that his injuries were very vicious?” George frowned at the remembrance. He did not consider himself especially sensitive, but he had rarely seen anything so unpleasant. The exact details he had not shared with Elizabeth – she was by no means delicate, but there were certain things people did not need to hear.

“Yes, which seems excessive for a thief.”

“And Francis said it was not a robbery originally, didn’t he?”

“M. d’Aubigné’s pocket-book was found in his room afterwards. With little inside.”

“So, where did all of the money come from? And in French coin? Had he deposited any with the Bank?”

“No. I went back and checked the ledgers today just to make sure.”

“So...”

“So it is all but confirmed, I think.”

“Then, you must tell Francis. It is surely imperative now.” George sighed. He knew Elizabeth was right. It had long pained him to keep things from his closest friend, especially when Francis was so open with him.

“Yes, but I must wait until we are sure. Furthermore, even if I tell what I know, it still leaves many unanswered questions. Du Pas, for one.”

“It is a great puzzle.” Elizabeth took a sip of her sherry. “One which I am afraid I must add to.”

“Oh, yes?” George had noticed that Elizabeth seemed a little distracted over dinner.

“I took Valentine and Ursula for a walk in the grounds today, and I met Caroline and Séraphine out riding.” Séraphine – the young Comtesse de la Chatre – was one of the Enys’ guests at Killewarren. At only sixteen, she had been smuggled out of France by loyal servants of her family – none of whom she had ever seen since. Tragically, it was highly likely they were all dead, or at the very least imprisoned. Now just eighteen, she had become close to both Caroline and Elizabeth, and often visited Elizabeth at Cusgarne, spending quite some time keeping her company throughout her recent confinement. The Comtesse was a sweet girl, and George admired her strength and gentility in the face of the tragedy she had suffered.

“Oh, yes?”

“We spoke for a while, but when they rode away, Séraphine held back, and she said that we must speak privately, and she would call on Wednesday. She was very agitated.”

“Agitated?”

“ Yes. She also said – she said she believed there was an imposter amongst us. I wanted to ask her what she meant, but Caroline called for her and she rode away.”

“You are sure that is what she said? An imposter?”

“Yes, absolutely. Imposteur.” Elizabeth looked puzzled, and George imagined his expression matched hers.

“What could she have meant by that? What sort of imposter?”

“I have no idea – I suppose I shall find out.”

“Indeed.”

“She seemed nervous when Ross, Francis and I spoke to her at the dinner party, but I assumed she was merely disturbed by what had happened to d’Aubigné.”

“Perhaps it is to do with d’Aubigné.”

“I cannot imagine how.” Elizabeth frowned into her glass. “Not after his death.”

“No.” George tutted. “Everything that happens seems only to throw up more questions and not answers. The more we try to unravel the threads, the more tangled they become.”

“Well, we should have a definitive answer to one question soon.”

“Yes. Very soon.”

~

“Papa!” George turned to see Ursula running across the gardens towards him, her little dress flying out behind her. Catching up to him, she took a firm hold of his coat. “Where are you going?”

“To the stables, my pet.”

“Can I come? To see the horses?” Ursula had inherited her mother’s love of the outdoors, happily accompanying her on walks in the gardens, and out to pick flowers. She was very fond of animals as well, especially dogs and horses, and extremely put out that she was not yet allowed to ride while her elder brother was. She looked up at George pleadingly, brown eyes identical to her mother’s. Even if he had been inclined to refuse her, it was terribly hard to do so. He bent to pick her up, her arms –warmly encased in a jacket Elizabeth or a nurse had no doubt struggled to get her into – wrapping around his neck.

“Oh, very well.”

While George dealt with his business with the horse master, one of the stable boys helped Ursula to feed a young foal.

“Little one has not been named yet, Sir. P’raps young mistress would like the honour?”

She most certainly would, and it took Ursula some time to decide, changing her mind several times before settling upon ‘Butterfly’.

“Perhaps,” said George, lifting his little girl into his arms again, “when she is grown up, you will be big enough to ride?”

“Really?”

“Yes.” The sheer happiness on her face was everything. Before leaving, he stopped a moment to see his own favoured mount, Mab. Ursula gently patted her nose as the beast snorted contentedly in her stall. George was about to turn back to the house – since he had a rare day at home, Elizabeth had insisted they have tea together as a family, and he had no intention of disappointing her – when he noticed the occupant of the opposite stall. A fine-looking Cleveland Bay with a light mane, it was not one of theirs, unless it had been acquired without his knowledge.

“Freddy,” he called over one of the most senior stable-boys, soon to be a groom, “where did that horse come from?”

“Oh, did Mr Barnett not say, Sir? He must have forgot. Daniel found her wandering t’other day, near the woods, covered in mud. She wasn’t hurt, so we jus’ cleaned her up and we’ve been feeding her. Mr Barnett meant to ask what you wanted done wi’ her.”

“When did you say she was found? Exactly?”

“Um, I believe ‘twas morning after that French fella was – “ He cut himself off, glancing at Ursula. “If you know what I mean, Sir.”  

“I do. Thank you, Freddy. Tell Mr Barnett just to keep looking after her for now.”

“Will do.” The young man carried on about his business, and George went back to the house, his mind turning over yet another question.

Ursula was full of her visit to the stables, regaling her mama and older brother with the details over tea.

“’Butterfly’? What a pretty name, my love.” Elizabeth smiled.

“Why did Ursula get to name the foal?” Valentine frowned.

“You named your horse, remember? Fitzgerald?”

“Oh. Yes.”

“What’s the new horse called, Papa?” Ursula asked before taking a big bite of ginger snap, dropping crumbs down her frock. Elizabeth tutted affectionately, and then frowned when she took in Ursula’s question.

“New horse?”

“It is not our horse, my dear. One of the stable boys found her wandering a few days ago.”

“A few days?” George couldn’t help but smile at the working of Elizabeth’s quick mind.

“Yes.” He glanced to the children, indicating they would speak later, and Elizabeth nodded.

“Now, Valentine, why don’t you tell Papa about your lessons?” Valentine was certainly delighted to share what he had learned, and George listened proudly.

After tea, they sat in the parlour for a while, Ursula and Valentine playing on the hearth rug, Nicholas sleeping in his cradle, and the twins sat between their parents on the sofa – Susannah watching Elizabeth sew, the needle kept carefully out of her reach, and Clare leaning against George’s side as he perused some routine papers from the Bank. It was a peaceful scene, and George knew he should be content, but his mind was not on his paperwork. It was trying to make some sense of everything: d’Aubigné , du Pas, the knife, the money, the thief, the horse…He felt as if there was something just out of reach, something his mind could not quite grasp. From the way Elizabeth kept unpicking her stitches, and pausing with her needle stuck in the fabric, he knew she was likely similarly absorbed.

The door opened, admitting a housemaid, Polly.

“Sir, Madam, there is a lady here who wishes to speak with you. Mistress Vosper.”

“Margaret?” Elizabeth and George shared a glance.

“I showed her to your study, Sir.”

“Thank you, Polly. Will you stay with the children for a few moments, please?”

“Of course, Sir.”

Margaret Vosper awaited them in George’s study, looking both serious and triumphant. She had a letter folded in her gloved hands.

“It is confirmed, at last.” She handed George the note. “Nothing. We have him.”

~

“You are distracted, my dear.” Elizabeth smiled at him over her tea cup at the breakfast table the following morning. “You have still not decided?”

In light of Margaret’s visit – and the information she brought – George and Elizabeth had sat up most of the night in deep discussion. On the one hand, they had the answer to an important question, on the other, it created yet other questions and brought into sharp focus as dilemma he had been continually putting off resolving.

“You must take Francis into your confidence now.” Elizabeth had insisted as they readied for bed. “Ross, too, perhaps.”

“Ross?”

“Well, he is as deeply involved now as anyone. I cannot claim to know him as I once did, but Francis would not have invited him in if he did not still believe him trustworthy, family affection or no.”

“You are right – as you always are. To tell all to Francis is surely the only correct course, and yet still I find myself hesitant.”

“Considering what we now know…” She glanced up at him in her dresser mirror, understanding dawning on her lovely face. “You are concerned for his reaction.”

“I have deceived him, my truest friend, save yourself���Oh! It is foolish, I know. Sentimental, as Cary would say.”

Elizabeth had wrinkled her nose at his mention of his uncle, his only living Warleggan relative, temporarily lightening George’s mood. Cary had never particularly approved of George’s choice of a wife, considering the Chynoweth family, although an ancient one, to be insufficiently rich or influential to provide an advantageous match. But as it was neither her name nor her fortune which made Elizabeth desirable so far as George was concerned,  he had ignore his uncle’s objections. Cary had not softened much in the years since, nor done a great deal to earn the favour of his niece-in-law.

“Well, so much as it pains me to say this, my love, in this matter I believe Cary and I would be in agreement.  Sentiment must be put aside, for the overall good.”

“My uncle has never been concerned with the overall good.”

He smiled as he recalled the conversation, draining his own tea. It was time to set off for the Bank. The decision would have to wait, but he could not put off the inevitable. He took his leave with a kiss to Elizabeth’s cheek, but as he collected his hat in the front hallway, there was an insistent knocking on the door. It was far quicker to answer himself than wait for a footman. An agitated-looking messenger was on the other side, and he thrust a folded paper into George’s hand.

Elizabeth arrived as he read – attracted by the noise of the visitor. She had to speak to him more than once before he answered her, so startled and unnerved by the contents of the note was he.

“George?...George? What is it?”

“Oh, it – It appears my decision has been made for me. I am afraid that someone else has been killed. Murdered.”

“Oh, no. Who?”

“I am sorry, my love, but it the Comtesse – Séraphine.”

Chapter 9

“Spratt continues to insist he is no murderer.” Ross shifted in his chair. “And I believe him.”  

Ezekial Spratt was career petty larcenist who had somehow managed to never be brought up in front of Francis, but whose description was thankfully instantly recognisable to the ever reliable Henshawe. Spratt took a little tracking down, but was eventually dragged out of a bawdy-house where he had been using his newly-acquired wealth to entertain himself like a king. According to the constables – who may have generally lacked wits but did at least possess muscle – extracting Spratt had been a sight easier than prying the silver coins out of the hands of the house’s madam, although the threat of an appearance at the next Assizes had ultimately proven effective.  

Faced with the inside of Truro jail, as well as interrogation by Francis, Ross and Henshawe, Spratt instantly admitted to finding the knife in the clearing, and robbing d’Aubigné’s body of his purse, but swore by every version of God he could imagine – as well as on his mother’s grave – that he had not killed the man. Although Henshawe had warned that Spratt was an habitual liar, Francis found himself inclined to believe the man.  

Spratt was clearly an unscrupulous worm, but he was no killer. Especially not one who would mutilate their victim in such horrific and intimate fashion.    

 “I agree with you, cousin. “ Francis sat back and scrubbed a hand over his face. They had been up most of the night questioning Spratt. “So, considering where Spratt found it, the knife seems to belong to d’Aubigné. Or his killer.”  

“It had to be d’Aubigné. A different knife was used by his killer. D’Aubigné must have taken the knife to defend himself but was disarmed somehow. The fine craftsmanship of the weapon is certainly fitting to someone of d’Aubigné’s former wealth.”  

“But if it is d’Aubigné’s, then he likely killed du Pas. For what reason we don’t know.” 

“Some of this must have something to do with this French spy your nephew told us about.” Ross frowned, obviously feeling as frustrated as Francis.

 “But who is the spy? Did d’Aubigné kill du Pas for being the spy, and was then killed by some compatriot of du Pas’? Or was d’Aubigné the spy? If so, who killed him? Or were they both killed by the spy? If so, why so differently? Oh Lord, but this is a quagmire!”  

“As to the spy – have you truly had no hints from your own informant? Not even the Carne girl?”

 “Oh, there have been rumours of French collaborators for years, but they were always just wild speculation and gossip. Whoever the spy is, they have been careful, and the Admiralty’s agents equally so in concealing their enquiries.” Francis had not missed the odd intonation in Ross’ voice when he asked about Demelza – it had not been an entirely casual question. Ross had evidently deduced some part of the true nature of his relationship with Demelza. She was not just a tenant of the land he cared for, nor merely an informant – she was so much more. But now was no time to dwell on his difficult situation with her – aside from the fact that it was yet another impossible conundrum. He chose to ignore Ross’ rather unsubtle probing. “If d’Aubigné went out into the woods with a knife and a purse full of coins, he must have been meeting someone for some purpose or another. Blackmail, perhaps.”  

“On his part or the other’s?” Ross gave a mirthless laugh at Francis’ frustrated sigh. “Yes, cousin. I too feel as if I am continually banging my head against a wall.”

 That was when Henshawe burst into the room. 

~ 

It was a very severe Dwight, and a very pale Caroline, who met them in the entrance hall at Killewarren. 

“It is the Comtesse?” Francis asked, although Henshawe had already told him. He supposed he could not quite believe it. Dwight nodded grimly, and Caroline let out a tiny sob, gripping her husband’s arm tightly. She had obviously been crying already, and Francis felt badly for her. Through the doorway into the parlour, he could see the poor remaining souls of the household – Madame de Voyer, and the MM. de Dreux and Leféron.  They sat silent and solemn, huddled close together by an unlit fireplace.

I must end this, Francis thought. End these people’s terror. They came here to escape a horrific death, but have been met with brutality and violence nevertheless.

 “Yes, it is. I have confirmed it.” 

“Where was she found?” Ross demanded. Dwight glanced at Caroline, clearly not wishing to speak more in front of her. A clearly astute maid gently placed her hand on her mistress’ arm.  

“Come, mistress. Come and sit down, let the master and Mr Francis look after the Comtesse now.” Caroline let herself be led away. Francis admired how much she had striven to so far put a brave face on things for the sake of her guests, but the death of the young girl he knew she had become close to had clearly hit her very hard. It was not merely for the sake of the French that this terrible situation had to be resolved. Once certain his wife was taken care of, Dwight turned back to them. 

“In the gardens, out beside the rockeries. She often walked there in the mornings.”  

“Who found her?” Francis dearly hoped it had not been Caroline. 

“One of the groundsmen. He’s downstairs with a glass of brandy.”  

“Let us speak to him first.”  

David Rowe was a broad, rugged-featured man somewhere in his thirties. His powerful build marked him out as a physical labourer, and might have ordinarily made him somewhat intimidating. Now, he slumped on a stool at the scrubbed kitchen table, staring blankly down at the glass he held in a shaking hand. 

“David.” Dwight spoke to him quite gently, as if he were a nervous patient. “This is Mr Francis Poldark, and Captain Poldark. They are here about the Comtesse.”  

“That poor girl.” The big man’s voice was very small and quiet. “Lyin’ there like…Such a sweet thing she was, no airs and graces, despite who she were. Smile at us all while she walked through t’gardens.”  

“Mr Rowe, why were you in the gardens this morning?” Unless he was an extraordinarily good actor, David Rowe had not killed the Comtesse, but Ross’ question still had to be asked. It took Rowe a moment to absorb it, and his head snapped towards them.  

“I din’t do it! I could never!”  

“They didn’t say you did, David.” Dwight soothed. “Just tell them what you told me.”  

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” The man took a deep breath, gathering himself. “I were comin’ back from Tehidy. My sister be a cook there and I went t’ visit yesterday. Spent afternoon helpin’ some of the men tryin’ to fix the water pump in the yard – ‘tis blocked so it seems…Anyhow, I stayed night in my sister’s cottage and I were walkin’ back this morn’. Took shortcut through gardens as I were later comin’ than I intended. I came round end of hedge and….and…” “You found her.” Francis finished.  “Aye. Her ‘ead were…Oh, Lord, I never seen such a terrible thing.” And with that, he put his head in his big, rough hands and sobbed.  

Dwight led them back to the same room where, just a few days ago, M. d’Aubigné had been brought. At first appearance, the Comtesse showed no such signs of violence as he had. Someone had covered her with a sheet, which Dwight gently removed. She lay on her back, hands neatly at her sides, eyes closed. Her hair was disordered, and her pale yellow skirts were filthy – not just at the hem, which might have been expected from a walk, but all up the front to her knees.  

“Prepare yourselves, gentlemen.” Dwight took a firm hold of the young woman and turned her on to her side. Francis took a moment to realise that the horrified gasp he heard had come from himself, while he felt Ross stiffen beside him. The back of the Comtesse’s head had been caved in, blood and gore matted into her pale brown hair. 

“Dear God in Heaven.” The groundsman’s horror suddenly made perfect sense. D’Aubigné’s injuries had been terrible, Lord knew, but this…Dwight lay her back down, even his face ashen. With equal tenderness, he lifted both her arms to show a multitude of cuts and scratches on their undersides.

 “Likely caused by her falling onto the gravel path.” 

“What – What was used?” Francis asked, fighting to steady his voice. Dwight stepped to the side to indicate a heavy stone on the bench behind him. It was covered in blood.

“Her hair is stuck to the blood, also. It is from the rockery, there are a dozen others like it.” Carefully, Dwight covered her up again. “I will prepare a thorough report as always, but if you don’t mind, I should like to go back to my wife.”  

“Of course, Dwight. Thank you.” Ross patted his friend gratefully on the back as he passed, and both Poldarks watched him disappear down the corridor in silence.  

“We must catch this monster.” Francis spoke first after Dwight had disappeared up the servant’s stairs to the main house.  

“You think it is the same man who killed d’Aubigné?”  

“Do you not?” 

“I do. For the pure savagery of it. But, why her?”  

“Why any of them? Why any of this?” Francis slammed his hand against the wall in frustration. “I have been stumbling around in the dark like a fool, and now that poor girl is dead!”

 “I feel your frustration, Francis, believe me, but there is nothing we could have done. We have had nothing to go on. We still have nothing.”  

George and Elizabeth Warleggan were arriving when they eventually came back upstairs, perhaps sent for in the hope that Elizabeth could provide some comfort to her friend. Elizabeth also looked shaken – she too had been close to the young Frenchwoman, Francis knew. After greeting them briefly, she hurried into the parlour.  

“Caroline, my dear.”  

“Oh, Elizabeth, it is too dreadful.” As the maid closed the door, Francis caught a glimpse of Elizabeth embracing Caroline, who had begun to cry again.  

“This is a terrible business.” George was frowning in the direction his wife had gone, from whence the sound of Caroline’s weeping, and the murmur of Elizabeth and Dwight’s voices, could still be heard. “That poor girl.” 

“Terrible, indeed. But, if you will excuse us, George – “ Francis would have perhaps liked to discuss this newest development with his friend. George had a quick, analytical mind, born of years of being buried in accounts books, and his input had helped Francis with several cases. However, Ross was here now, and he had much more experience with this type of crime. Besides, he could not share the confidential information James Blamey had provided them about the French spy. 

“Actually, Francis, there is something I must tell you. Regarding Séraphine – the Comtesse.” Both Ross and Francis had been making to leave, but this stopped them in their tracks. “Two days ago, Elizabeth chanced upon her out riding in the woods. They could not speak privately, but the Comtesse said she would call upon her today. She told Elizabeth she believed there was an imposter among us.”  

“An imposter?” Ross frowned.  

“Yes – those were here exact words. ‘An imposter among us’.” 

“Did she say who this ‘imposter’ was?” 

“No, as I said, we assumed she would explain herself today. It seems likely that this ‘imposter’ has prevented her.”  

“So it does.” This cast things in a somewhat different light. Could the Comtesse have been referring to the spy? But how did she know of it? More questions!

“There is another thing. It could be nothing, but I feel strongly that it is not. One of our stable boys found a wandering horse at the edge of our grounds – the night after d’Aubigné was killed.”  

“Well that – “ Francis suddenly remembered something, a report he had glance over the a few days ago, but cast aside as being minor, and unrelated to the more serious matters at hand. “Is it a Cleveland Bay?”  

“Yes.” 

“One was stolen from the Kerwin Farm that same night.”   

~

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[keywestlou]

ANNE FRANK "QUARANTINED" 761 DAYS

Slowly American society is being pushed into a quarantine situation. Considered by some to be necessary to protect against a continuing spread of coronavirus.

Most by law, edict or order. Some by personal decision.

I am one remaining in by choice. I refer to it as self quarantine. At 84 and having a few physical problems, I felt it better to do what I could to protect myself. Better safe than sorry!

There are those in history who have self quarantined for political reasons rather than medical. One where death was a possibility.

People are beginning to complain about having to remain at home. I don’t understand. Disease driven death confronting the world in the face at the moment.

Anne Frank suffered from a possible death consequence during World War II.

Place quarantine in proper perspective.

Anne Frank was a young girl who spent 761 days in an attic hiding from the Nazis in Germany during World War II. She and 6 others lived in 450 square feet.

They were required to remain still and quiet by day. Other people in the building. During the evening, they had to move quietly.

The key to their salvation was to remain quiet and undiscovered. Thereby, living. If caught, death inevitable.

Those who have visited the attic have a clear recollection of squeaky floorboards. The reason no one could move by day.

Our sequestrations will in no way be as mentally tortuous nor as long as Anne Frank’s was. Coronavirus should be well gone sometime in 2 years. We will then be out and about. Anne Frank never got the opportunity to be out and about. Once caught, all that faced her was a short trip to the gas chamber.

Complain not, my friends!

There are those who refuse to believe coronavirus is a real problem. The know it alls. Many Trump supporters. Persons who believe the whole thing is a hoax.

What percentage of the U.S. society? There are statistics, polls, etc. All over the place. Best I can determine, from 31 to 62 percent. Not very dependable numbers. Whatever, the figure is substantial.

These same persons refuse to follow the practical rules for fighting/thwarting the disease. Many will infect others.

May the doubters be the first to meet their Maker!

Trump went on a tirade at the Task Force public TV appearance yesterday. He defecated on NBC’s Peter Alexander for asking what Trump considered an improper question arising out of poor journalism.

The President came like a bolt out of the blue. Hit hard! Forgot his manners.

Edmund Burke said about manners: “Manners are what vex or soothe, corrupt or purify, exalt or debase, barbarize or refine us, by a constant, steady, uniform, insensible operation, like that of the air we breathe in.”

Donald ain’t got no manners!

Some coronavirus observations.

New York has closed down “non-essential” businesses. Liquor stores not listed as non-essential. Ergo, liquor stores considered “essential.” They will remain open.

The beach closing situation in Florida a shame. Mostly spring breakers on the beach. A good number of adults also, however.

It took a while for Florida to close the beaches. Reminded me of the movie Jaws. The town refused to close the beach for a “little” fish because the town merchants did not want to lose precious tourist dollars.

Poor Italy. Wow! The beating!

Six hundred twenty seven died yesterday. In 1 day.

The hospitals are overwhelmed. So far, 47,021 persons have been infected, 4,035 have died.

Congress is going back and forth re how to pay people who are out of work. Complex and timely ideas suggested.

The U.K. has the same problem. I consider Boris Johnson a nut. Similar in every respect to Trump.

However, Johnson has come up with way to pay employees that seems simple. Pay those employees unable to work 80 percent of their usual salary. To a maximum of $2,875 per month. Retain them on the payroll. Whether the employer is open for business or not.

The plan would provide payment for the first 30 days. Then to be looked at again.

Starbucks. In the U.S. and Canada.

Those company operated are closing their doors. Only drive through service will be available. Sixty percent of U.S. Starbucks are company operated.

Reusable cups will not be permitted.

In the event things continue going bad and employees have to remain home, Starbucks will pay their full salaries for 30 days.

It has become obvious after 3 years of Trump as President that he is expert in everything. He knows, he feels, he understands. The fact he is full of horse manure is immaterial.

His most recent exposure of brilliance involves support of 2 drugs that are unproven as a cure for coronavirus. The 2 are presently used in helping those with malaria. They are untested as to coronavirus.

Trump spoke as to the 2 drugs possibly being cures for the virus. He was all excited. Spouting false encouragement.

Dr. Fauci had to take the microphone. He said the drugs were only anecdotalevil. Till properly tested, not sure the drugs would be effective.

Dr. Trump v. Dr. Fauci. Who do you believe?

The stock market dropped another 800 points yesterday.

Moving on.

May Johnson appears to have been an attractive belle of the ball type back in 1896 in Key West. On this day, she and a Mrs. Rowen had a tour and lunch on the USS Amphritite which was in port. A row boat had to take them out to the vessel.

They were the sole guests of the Captain during the tour and lunch. The lunch consisted of fish and mutton chops.

At the end of her diary for the day, she described the day as GRAND! LOVELY!

Mark Twain was in Key West this day in 1902. He stopped on his way to Cuba.

I close with Key West’s beloved President Harry Truman.

The President left for Washington this day in 1951 after a 3 week vacation at the Little White House.

The thought occurs. Truman was a President. Trump is not. If Donald were a reader of history, he might have learned some things from Washington, Lincoln, both Roosevelts, Truman, Kennedy, and Reagan. Even Obama. However, Trump’s dislike for Obama is so great he is blinded as to the good Obama did. He continues to tear down Obama’s successes one at a time.

Enjoy your day!

  ANNE FRANK “QUARANTINED” 761 DAYS was originally published on Key West Lou

[schadenfreudefreude-blog]

Myself

I'm a determined folk that absolutely throw myself into whatever I do -- but getting me to commit to something is rarely an easy task. In fact, it's better not to even try to "get me" to do anything. 

I take pride in what I own, and have a strong drive for security. I hate to let others down once I've made a promise.

It's given that I spend money impulsively. ✌🏼💸

I have an internal struggle between my needs and my wants. I can lack focus and be indecisive as a result. My friends told me I'm so objective, simply because when I decide on one route, I am pulled in another direction at the same time. Something tugs at me, and I begin to question my stance. "But what if..." and "on the other hand..." are statements I can't help but make, and that might plague me. I am always aware of the opposing point of view and the other side of the coin. There is a conflict here between the head and the heart. My emotions tell me one thing and my mind tells me something else. The result is a see-saw effect: I can be emotional to the point of irrationality at one moment, and logical the next. How to blend the head and the heart is a constant struggle for me, usually because I have a tendency to resist blending them!

Because my ego and my mind are usually on the same page, I'm always in a position to think about what I want, and in many ways, this is an interruption of the will. I have a great drive to communicate with others. I invest a lot of pride in my intellectual capacities. I may not always listen as well as I speak, however! I might be too busy thinking about what to say next. But I am very curious and although I enjoy expressing myself, I usually don't dominate conversations completely.

As far as studying or learning goes, I am better off reading the material than listening to a teacher. It is very hard for me to passively listen and absorb information. 

My opinions are usually strong and my friends told me I'm an independent thinker. I tend to be proud of my opinions and thoughts, and might easily get a bruised ego if I'm not "heard", if my opinions are pushed aside or ignored, or if my opinions are criticized. I am expressive and possibly a very animated speaker. Friends say I'm also very witty and others enjoy my playful and sometimes mischievous sense of humor.

Family and friends always tell me I'm endowed with generosity and friendliness, in some ways I appear to be lucky in life. They say I attract good things with a positive frame of mind and a charitable disposition. Rarely entirely "down and out", I'm usually well-received, helpful, and well-informed.

I enjoy travel and have a special affection for foreign places and people. I'm generally not very competitive, and for the most part not combative either.

My parents told me I'm usually good-hearted, possessing strong morals and much faith in life and in people. I prefer to find the good in situations and in people. I don't have a lot of patience with those who break the rules, as I generally believe in order, equality, and the law. I usually make good on my promises, and the sincerity I exude can be trusted. Looking on the bright side is my forte--people can turn to me for a pleasing dose of faith and optimism.

I am quick to chuckle and can't resist any appeal to my sense of humor. I'm downright jolly. I may be less conspicuous, but my faith in life and willingness to find humor in life are nevertheless obvious.

There is a self-destructive side to me that should be managed by confronting my fears. I might worry about a friend betraying me, although others might find this person full of charm! Things like this are my flaws.

I'm not necessarily outgoing. When I feel comfortable, I do like being the center of attention. That is, I like being in the "spotlight" in the comfort of my own homes and with family and friends. I enjoy entertaining others, and often take on the role of comic. I do often feel the need to be organized. This inner mission to set things right, and generally like to oversee the goings-on in my little circle. 

I want to create and entertain. I can be rather lazy or inactive at times, and a little bossy too. Generally, though, I have a deep need to treat others fairly and justly. My bestfriend told me that I require lots and lots of love and care in order to function well in the world. When I feel slighted, I can be dramatic in my emotional displays. 😭😂 When my pride has been hurt, I was given to big scenes and sulking. This rarely happens in public, however. I'm far too concerned about my image to make splashy scenes outside the comfort of my own homes. In public, I prefer to take things in dignified ways. At home, however, I was given to big displays of emotional drama. These scenes generally don't last too long, however. People claim I'm often personally popular folk who is valued for my integrity and strong sense of justice. Generally, it is easy to reason with me. Appealing to my well-developed sense of fairness usually works well. 

They say I'm brave, knowing how to take risks and possessing the courage of my convictions. People say I'm honest, imposing, and sharp. I have a great sense of, and respect for, justice. I have organizational sense. I'm quite selective with friends but I'm not overly influenced by them. I have this taste for splendor.

My issues in life could be my changing and numerous affections. I'm emotionally demanding and proud. I'm brooding when attention is not forthcoming.

I love to chat, enjoy story-telling and writing/poetry, sometimes enjoy bending the truth according to my bestfriend, and he claimed I possess a sparkling wit! I am animated when I speak, and have a sense of humor that others appreciate simply because it's very imaginative. I may be especially adept at satire. People can usually read my mood by how much I'm talking. When nervous or excited, I talk up a storm. Moodiness is a characteristic, definitely, and an especially subjective nature makes me prone to hypersensitivity. It usually has to do with the fact that I take in so very much from my environment. This is also one of the reasons why I tend to be indecisive. I may swing between irrational and rational thoughts and feelings. It's pretty much something that takes place "upstairs" in the mind, although others are sure to see the struggle from time to time. They say I am always interesting, and usually funny. I have a tendency to misrepresent myself with what I say from time to time, but they say I'm a charming, if a little kooky, friend.

I always aim to enjoy the moment, the real world more often. True friends told me that I should watch for fibbing, gossip, but sensitivity to criticism, thin-skinned leaves me feeling vulnerable. If the other aspects allow, they say I can be a very good novelist with great imagination and observation.

I'm extremely observant and astute, always reading between the lines and looking for the real meaning behind things. They say I'm passionate 😂 in speech, excellent at strategy. I don't like to be put on the spot or pushed into talking or coming to a conclusion. Studies are similar--I need to work at my own steady pace. I can be quite one-track minded at times, not very happy with multi-tasking, and often quite fixed in my opinions. Sensual stimuli is more relevant to me than abstract concepts. I fully enjoy literature and learning. My parents told me to strive to be erudite. I can be provocative in speech or communications, often challenging and contradicting, and seeing the flaws of a situation.

My bestfriend told me I have a polished manner in love, which sometimes makes me appear insincere or superficial. I'm a gentle lover who hates to be offended. I'm threatened by bad manners and direct or abrasive expression of feelings. I'm not only preferring to choose the middle road, I seek the middle ground in my relationships. I have idealized images of my relationships, even to the point where the relationship becomes bigger than life, taking on a life of its own. I can become quietly resentful if I feel I'm being taken advantage of -- and I make it easy for more aggressive types to bully me around. 

They say I'm big-hearted, generous, altruistic, devoted, warm-hearted, lovable, and sweet-tempered. I'm drawn toward the Arts, music, song. I like gatherings, parties. I may have big emotional highs. I may crave and may want a peaceful life in love.

I'm hard or reserved at times, and doesn't always know how to express my emotions. I may be frightened of showing my love, and this can lead to disappointments, break-ups, lack of satisfaction. I have doubts, can be suspicious, worries too much, possibly jealous but more likely insecure. I will learn how to be happy in love, to be at ease with myself and to control my jealousy or gain more assurance and sense of self-worth in my life, possibly thanks to a mature person, who will help me learn to trust.

I'm independent in love. I can tire and bore quickly and I can be scared of losing my liberty. Traditional marriage may not be for me. I'm a secret romantic, although a little detached or unpredictable. I more likely to break something off than live untruly. I like art, anything new. I'd love to get along with--and accept--people from all walks of life as friends. I can readily see through insincerity in others. In relationships, tolerance is the most important "ingredient" to me. My bestfriend told me that I might usually be quite capable of maintaining relationships that require a great deal of freedom and tolerance, such as long-distance romances or set-ups in which partners are unable to see each other consistently which I never been one. Friends told me that my style in love can be somewhat free and breezy, and possibly noncommittal. Lol. That's why, they know not to let me meet their dear guy friends to me or I get my friends to warn them when they try to "reto" me to their guy friends. This is me in college. I don't know who I'm going to be in law school. I might be different. Maybe. I'm allowed now to date because I finished my college degree. But, the problem is I really don't know how. I never been in a date. That official dinner or movie date that I want to experience with a special person is still not happening. In the future, I can see that I quite naturally accepts the idea that my partner might need some personal space and freedom. And that's just me. I'm not clingy.

I like everything beautiful, the Arts, balance, and harmony. I like entertainment and have a loving nature. I love nature.

I'm one of those productive and busy people that are goal-oriented, practical people. Although I can be a little scattered at times, simply because I'm doing so many things at any given time, I get things done--quite well! I have a knack for handling a wide variety of tasks at once, and a tendency to take on perhaps too much at the same time. I'm not particularly aggressive by nature. Although I can be a little hard-nosed and critical at times, I rarely resort to pushing others around. Still, an annoyed me can be difficult to be around! Arouse my anger and I turn into complaining, over-critical nags. Generally, I don't make myself a nuisance, so this stage is unlikely to last for very long. It is a sensitive position, however. It doesn't take much to make me nervous.

I'm quite protective about my "system" for getting things done. Although rather humble in a general life sense, I can be quite particular about my methods--how I organize and accomplish my goals, mostly with work. Mine is a nervous. Although I have a staying power, I can be restless and I'm not given to sticking with the same projects for too long. I derive plenty of energy and life force from the things I do--my study, my work, hobbies, and any kind of projects I take on. An idle me is a sorry sight, indeed. Fidgety, nervous, worried...all of these things are a sure sign that I have either too little to do, or far too much on my plates. There is a perfectionist at the heart of mine. I'll be the first to deny this, but it's there! I worry when I'm not producing anything, and I worry about whether what I've produced will measure up. 

So much of my energy goes into my studying and working life. I can be indirect and very private. Rich dreams and fantasies.

I struggle with asserting myself in direct, natural ways in, but with time and experience (and perhaps some hard work), I believe that I'll likely to learn to work with this energy rather than allow it to work against me. I'm making sure I watch for a tendency to feel defeated before I've given something a real shot. I know I'm extraordinarily resourceful, and I can handle many things on my own or in uniquely creative ways.

Though I may have a great deal of energy and drive, I lack confidence or the desire to put myself and my interests first. Positively I can be very unselfish, working more on behalf of others than for myself. I deny my own desires and needs too much, however, and I'm likely to secretly become very angry, which can sabotage my finest efforts.

There is a touch of the incurable romantic in my nature. My daydreaming and fantasizing world is rich and precious to me. I also bring imagination, although I can take a bit of time to feel comfortable and to warm up to a new person in my life. Overcoming a vague and persistent feeling of guilt or doom can go a long way towards a healthier, happier approach to the pursuit of my desires.

I have a tendency to impose my will upon others, which can cause severe problems for myself when they react in self-defense. I have a hair-trigger temper and may even resort to unpleasant acts when upset. Learning to react to unpleasant circumstances with my intellect rather than my emotions comes with a really lot of maturity in my part.

It is all too easy for me to find something negative about a situation. I avoid issuing ultimatums when I meet an obstacle. Instead, I find a way to convince others to work with me of their own free will. Ordinary life often seems drab and uninteresting to me and I must have something that stirs my imagination, some vision or ideal or dream to motivate me. I have a strong urge to act out my fantasies or to live my dream, and I will DO things that others only talk about or dream about. Artistic creation, drama, or other areas in which I can express myself imaginatively are excellent for me

I do not easily tolerate a dominating attitude in others. I have a healthy respect for power and authority, but only if it is handled fairly.

In fact, some people told me that they are intimidated by me, and I don't understand why this is so. When I want something (or someone!) I'm very determined. For me, it can be "all or nothing". When I'm finished with something, I leave it behind me and there is no going back. I honestly don't always take rejection well. I fear betrayal and abandonment. Ironic, right?

Self-consciousness can be my problem. I must learn to develop self-confidence. I'm bothered by that "me-first" attitude in others, but I must learn that "me-first" is sometimes necessary, in moderation. My life can be difficult and cramped. I may have problems with being open, without self-consciousness. I may accept solitude rather than look for solutions.

I always get over-excited at the start of a task that interests me. At times, my debonair personality can give others a banal impression. I'm independent, enjoying even dubious distractions. I'm an idealist, easily disappointed by those using power plays to advance.

So, if I'm going to describe myself more: she likes and believes in justice. She is an optimist and is generous. Family life is very important to her. She likes comfort, well-being at home. She knows how to entertain in style and above all with pleasure; her own house in the future is always open unlike her parents who prefer to live privately. She takes one-to-one relationships very seriously, perhaps partnering up later in life or choosing not to. Partnership may not be fruitful or may be felt to be a burden. She fights to improve her daily life, she is persevering. She is always changing, somewhat unstable. She is ready to innovate, to change everything. She enjoys studying, is open to anything new, accepting and recognizing her errors, always developing in a positive sense. She usually likes travel, discovery, and meeting new people and knows how to appreciate them. After working all her life to obtain her objectives and finally having reached that goal, she wants to retire in peace and quiet and to enjoy a retirement full of contemplation, with few tasks, close to nature. 

She is myself.

[waitinginthedarke]

BIGBANG - MAFIA!AU - SERIES 3

A BIGBANG FANFICTION

Summary: The saying goes, ‘the mafia is family, the mafia is home’...but even if ‘the mafia is home’...is it really the right place to raise a child?

A/N: ARE WE READY?!?! Mafia is back! And this time we see Seunghyun’s quest for the truth, and Jiyong’s want for his own little family. But BEWARE...everything is not as it seems...O.o

Masterlist (including series one and two)

Chapter 1

‘Back gate, right hand side, 5 paces away….4….3….2-‘

The sound of a single gunshot piercing through your ear piece makes your limbs lock momentarily before the sound of a body dropping to the ground reaches you and you stand up from where you’d been crouched behind the fence watching the approach of the assassin’s footsteps.

You start sprinting across the shipping yard immediately, following the map that you memorised in your head as you continue to scan the area and listen to the directions being given through the ear piece to the others.

‘Two more have been sent out. They’re getting suspicious. I give you approximately 3 minutes to shut everything down. …God. This is so boring-‘

‘Youngbae, shut up.’

You smirk at Jiyong’s quick disciplining of his friends whining through your earpiece, the shortest man having been wrapped into being the eyes and ears of the operation back at HQ after he’d suffered a serious leg injury a few days before which had made him unable to leave the mansion- something that you’d all heard about far more than you’d have liked to.

The operation you were all on now was simple, a rouge gang had set up base on the edges of Seoul without permission, and refused to abide by the rules, and therefore Jiyong had demanded that they be taken out. He’d given them 2 chances to adhere to the laws of his empire, but after a shoot-out cropping up in an abandoned factory in Hongdae, and numerous robberies and raids being staged in the lower Gangnam areas, he’d decided there was only one option; dispose of the gang responsible.

And tonight was the deadline.

‘Daesung, are you in position?’ Jiyong asks, as you stalk over to the bordering fence on the top of the hill that overlooked the gang’s base below, keeping yourself in the shadows as you observe the group that appeared to be caught between a meeting and being a little anxious.

‘Yes.’ Comes Daseung’s reply, his straight forward, no nonsense tone making you smile as your eyes catch on one man imparticular who looked like the dictator of the group.

‘Hyung?’

‘Affirmative.’

‘Youngbae?’

‘Obviously.’

‘Seungri-‘

‘Been waiting for hours.’

The two seconds of silence that should have been filled with your name has you frowning suddenly, but just as you go to tell Jiyong you were also in place, eagle eyed vision that had been trained into you courtesy of Daesung still on the man below who was now suspiciously watching the main entrance to the small area the group was hauled up in, you become aware of a presence behind you.

Before you can turn to confront whoever it was, their voice is filling your ear and you instantly relax into his hold as his hands settle on your waist.

‘Ready, Beautiful?’

You could feel your focus slipping minutely as his breath tickles your neck, a smile pulling at the edges of your mouth as the two of you stare down at the people milling around like rats below you, a few appearing to arm themselves, and you feel his smirk against your cheek as it matches you own, the two of you knowing that their defence was going to be futile against the pure power of your mafia.

‘Im always ready.’ You whisper, turning your head slightly towards him and seeing him smile down at you, lips thinning and eyes scrunching up a little as the expression takes over his face, before he leans toward you, mouth lingering oh so close to yours, and you find your focus waning more in your want for him, the same want that had caused your skin to burn from within since the very first kiss.

But in typical teasing Jiyong style, he only drops a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and fixing you with a menacing, cheeky, excited look.

‘Then lets show everyone how its done.’

‘2 and a half minutes…not our best, but it is the third fastest time we’ve ever taken to demolish a gang.’ Seungri announces as you all sit around for the debriefing meeting after getting back from the take out. You were leaning over Jiyong as he sat in one of the cushioned chairs dotted around the office, cleaning some cuts that he’d got in the middle of the fight, and covering them with plasters until he looked like a young child that had fell over numerous times in the playground.

‘The more important issue at the minute Seungri, is filing the background of the gang so that we can do a quick sweep on any remaining members who might never have come to the city. Then we issue a warning to them not to come to Seoul, and we make sure we don’t get caught by surprise if they choose to retaliate. -Youngbae I’ll leave the research to you, since sitting in front of a computer has become your new speciality.’ Jiyong dictates as he looks over at the man in question sat behind your desk, Youngbae sneering back at him which makes the man in front of you smirk, before you perch on the edge of the chair, feeling him slip his arm around your hip and squeeze your thigh subconsciously as he turns his attention to the oldest of the group.

‘Whats the bullet situation, hyung? Do we need to restock on reserves, update our suppliers or weaponry, invest in some new…- hyung?’

‘Hm?’

You had noticed at the same time Jiyong seemed to that Seunghyun wasn’t listening, the way he lifts his head from staring down into his wine glass, his eyes being distant and hung with dark bags that lurk beneath, revealing that he hadn’t been present for the entire conversation, and instantly making you wary of his tired expression.

‘Uh…Daesung can you go and do the general checks on security and maintenance and-‘

‘On it.’ The elusive man answers before Jiyong can even finish, his eyes still shifting uneasily between Seunghyun and the rest of the room, the older man upon noticing this, sighing heavily and downing his glass, before standing up and making to leave the room before he could get caught up in a serious conversation...but obviously Jiyong wasn’t going to let him go without questioning him.

‘Hyung, wait. Sit back down.’ Ji commands, shooting his older friend a look which causes him to nod shortly, slightly disgruntled, before standing in the spot he’d come to stop, and watching as Seungri helps to haul Youngbae out of the room on Jiyong’s hand-gesture for them to leave, the youngest man throwing Youngbae’s arm over his shoulder and pretty much swinging him out of the doorway as he protests at his roughness.

You make to leave as well, figuring you’d probably find out about whatever was bothering Seunghyun later from Jiyong anyway. However, as you go to get up, you feel Jiyong’s hand clamp down on your thigh, and you look down to see him shake his head minutely, not looking at you, but telling you without words that he wanted you to stay.

The silence that takes over the room when the door clicks shut afterwards could have been cut with a knife.

‘What can I do for you, Jiyong?’ Seunghyun speaks up after a solid minute of quiet, and its not until he breaks the silence that you realize you hadn’t been breathing, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief-

-but that’s before Jiyong speaks up.

‘Why are you so distracted, hyung?’

His voice is soft, a note of caring being evident in the way he addresses the question to his older brother, and if it wasn’t for the tick in his eyebrow you’d believe the question to be being asked on a friend level, rather than authoritative. However, just when you think a heated debate would ensue from the question, you watch Seunghyun walk over to the window and look out distractedly, before responding.

‘Kyungil told me that whoever sent him... was looking for me.’  

At first you’re confused, having forgotten about the man that had broken into the house a week before, since no-one had mentioned it since the day. But once your brain had had a few seconds to compute the name, you realize what Seunghyun had said, and you frown over at him in confusion, thoughts of just what he’d done to the prisoner, mixing in with questions surrounding how he’d come to know this... and how long he’d known for.

‘He hasn’t told you who it was though?’ Jiyong asks bluntly, appearing to be completely unfazed by the suddenness of Seunghyun’s confession, and it takes only a brief glance at him for you to see by the steely gaze he was watching Seunghyun with, revealing that he was compartmentalizing the information he was receiving in his mind- this including Seunghyun’s subconscious actions and responses to the situation you were in now.

‘…No. According to him the set up was such that he never knew who the order originally came from…although he did tell me who his boss is who received the order in the first place, he didn’t-‘

‘And you’re only thinking to mention this now?!’

Jiyong snapping at Seunghyun has your spine instantly straightening in response, your glance over at the older man revealing how he was clenching his jaw in barely restrained frustration as he stares over at the man beside you, the look deadly in your opinion, but not touching Jiyong as he stares back in wait of an answer.

‘In the midst of the issue with the gang we just demolished, I judged it as less important.’ The older man answers calmly, his answer almost murmured with how tight his lips were pressed in an attempt to keep his anger under control, but you should have known Jiyong wouldn’t bother to hold back.

‘We’re not children, Hyung. We can multi-task. And when there is a threat on the life of someone in my gang, I’d appreciate knowing about it the second it becomes apparent! Besides, since when was it your call to make whether it was ‘less important’ or not?! There is someone after you, and you’re treating it as a minor inconvenience, rather than the threat that it IS!’ Jiyong shouts, shooting up from the chair and planting his feet as he snaps at the older man, gesturing wildly in his anger, and it’s the second he gets close enough to hit Seunghyun on the chest in an attempt to get his point across, that the other man finally breaks out of his own control.

‘HOW CAN YOU SHOUT AT ME ABOUT NOT CARING ABOUT A THREAT ON MY LIFE, WHEN ALL WE’VE DONE FOR THE PAST FOUR YEARS IS PROTECT SOME GIRL YOU PICKED UP FOR MONEY?! We’ve put our lives on the line for Y/N time and time again at your every command, with the specific order that its her, or death, but NOW…NOW?! you expect me to think about myself?!’ Seunghyung spits, his harsh words forcing you to freeze in place as the subject is turned on you,  and you wish you could curl into a ball, or become some insignificant object in the room. But instead you’re left with your heart racing as you watch Jiyong scoff darkly at Seunghyun before suddenly surging at him and shoving him back into the wall, the older man smirking darkly as he lets him.

‘What is this really about?! Why are you really angry!? …cause I know you, hyung…and I know that you wouldn’t be acting like this if you weren’t-‘

He trails off. 

You’re only able to see Seunghyun’s face from your position on the chair, but even without seeing Jiyong’s expression, you’re aware of the change in atmosphere between the two, Jiyong pausing with his hands still clenched in the other man’s shirt, before suddenly shoving him back uselessly against the wall and letting go, turning back with his head bowed and pacing to the opposite side of the room.

There is silence for a minute, the three of you caught in suspense as Jiyong leans against the opposite wall, and despite you looking over at Seunghyun in an attempt to receive some answers, you simply see him continuing to stare at his younger brother, an indistinguishable expression on his face, before he bows his head momentarily and turns toward the door.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ He mutters, swiping at the newly made creases in his shirt as he takes a step toward the exit, before getting stopped by Jiyong speaking up.

‘Make Daesung stay with you during watch duty. I’ll give orders to the security team-‘

‘-Jiyong-‘

‘-so that we’re aware of any disturbances, and I’ll contact Jiho to get his men to give out orders for patrols to the nearest gangs,-’

‘-Jiyong, I-’

‘-I expect he’ll get Kyung on communication monitoring…but for now, I’ll just tell him there is a threat to someone inside, they don’t need to know who…’ he murmurs, trailing off, but still refusing to look at the older man who’d tried to interrupt him repeatedly, as he watches out the window from the opposite side of the room, face expressionless…leaving no room for argument.

It takes Seunghyun a moment, being caught in the same position of de-wrinkling his shirt during the whole time Jiyong had spoken, before slowly dropping his hands to his wrist cuffs, and softly touching the cufflinks- almost thoughtfully- before lifting his head with a deep breath and fixing a polite smile on his face as he briefly turns to nod at the other man.

‘Acknowledged. Goodnight, Jiyong, Y/N.’

And with that, he was gone.

You end up sat in place for at least 5 minutes as you wait for Jiyong to speak up after Seunghyun had left, finding yourself picking at your nails by the time he finally pushes himself off of the wall with a sigh and walks over to the desk, collapsing into the chair and looking over at you tiredly, smiling without enthusiasm when he sees you watching him.

‘Not the end to the night I imagined.’ He murmurs, his eyes glazing over as he hangs his head back against the chair in exhaustion, and the move has you on your feet and moving over to him instantly, coming to stop behind him and lowering your hands to his shoulders as you go to work out the knots in his muscles.

‘At least now you’re aware of the threat. …I just cant help but wonder how long he’s been sat on the information…and why he didn’t tell you straight away…’ you murmur, voicing your thoughts out loud and instantly regretting it when it computes in your mind that it might get Jiyong riled up again.

Luckily for you, however, he seemed to have burned his anger out for the night, and instead of saying anything else regarding the matter, he simply reaches his hands up to find yours and links your fingers together, pulling you forward so that you were lent over his back with your arms around him, the move making you smile as you nuzzle his neck fondly.

‘Do you fancy getting out of here for the night?’ he murmurs, turning his head toward you and kissing your cheek, his lips lingering to make a shiver roll up your spine, and you’re quickly turning to look at him, smiling as you nod, before finding yourself chuckling against his lips as he captures your mouth with his, before pulling away with his own grin as he jumps to his feet and clasps your hand in his.

‘Gaja!’

You could feel your humid pants bouncing back from the wall and making your skin clammy as you blearily stare down the corridor, not seeing anything, too busy lost in the feeling of Jiyong clasping you to him as he groans with his final thrust into you, his mouth clamped on your neck as his teeth use you for purchase; to ground himself, and to mark you as his.

Strangled pants leave you as you feel the high beginning to seep from your muscles, your arms that are locked around your lover’s neck slowly loosening their grip to allow him to move again, but he simply remains buried in your neck, trapping you between his body and the wall of the apartment’s hallway, after he’d brought you back to the old HQ to escape the confines of the mansion.

‘I love you, my Y/N…I’ll protect you with my life... as long as you always stay mine.’ He whispers quietly between heavy breaths, seeming to get his breath back quicker than you as he murmurs the words against the skin of your neck, taking a moment to suck a lingering kiss next to your spine at the back of your neck, the action making you weak-kneed, before he finally carries you to the bedroom you used to share.

Despite the sheets being cold on your skin as you lay down, you still find yourself curling into the comfort the material offered, enjoying the familiarity of it after having spent a good 2-3 years of your life laid in its confines, smiling even wider when Jiyong rolls onto the bed on the other side of you, entire body bare, and beautiful as ever.

You’d never get bored of admiring his physique, of his pure brilliance that shone from every sculpted muscle, the expanse of his flawlessly, permanently sun-kissed skin glowing in the pale moonlight that illuminated the room through the window, and his model-like, ambiguous facial features that only increased his beauty, making him unique…one-of-a-kind…

...and all yours.

You watch him slowly fall into the realms of sleep, smiling when he-almost subconsciously- reaches over for you, his hand making contact with your thigh and trying to pull it towards him before he realizes sleepily that it was too big to be your wrist. He exhaustedly peers one eye open to find you chuckling at him as he finally reaches for your hand, before continuing to go to sleep as he pulls your arm over to lay your hand on his chest, over his heart, his own hand maintaining its hold on your wrist even as he begins to snore lightly, and its as you watch him that your mind drifts back to the conversation that Jiyong had attempted to have with you the previous week.

…a baby…

You’d only been able to stare at him when he’d put the suggestion to you, not knowing whether to believe that he was being serious or not, but after the two of you had been watching each other in silence for well over 2 minutes straight, the bath water seeming to grow colder around you with each second that passed, you’d just ended up chuckling humorlessly and asking ‘do you want to watch a film later?’ before laying your head back on his chest and closing your eyes. The signal was clear enough that he didn’t press you on it, and after a moment of being still he’d simply sighed quietly and held you close against him…

…but the discussion had continued to haunt your every waking thought for the past 7 days.

It was looking at his face in that moment, imagining it on a child, and imagining being able to stroke its cheek as you were doing to Jiyong then, that sparked the flickering of an interest in you to know what it would be like to have a child in your life.

Ever since you were a young girl and you were able to understand the significance and meaning of a baby, it had been drilled into you that that was a part of life; that you were put on the planet to bear children and that that was just how it was. 

But after going through the separation and abandonment from your parents and your brother, and witnessing the heartbreak that came from the life you lead, the danger it entailed, and the earth crushing mental destruction that it came with, the want for a child had been replaced by fear, and the thought had never crossed your mind again.

…Until now.

…Until Jiyong had made it obvious that he wanted one.

Because even though you’d always wanted to give Jiyong everything, endeavoring to provide everything and anything that he desired…

…you weren’t entirely sure you could give him this…

‘Can’t sleep?’

His quite murmur surprises you where you’d thought he was sleeping, and you’re moving your gaze that had been fixed on his hand laid over yours on his chest to look up at his face, seeing him sleepily looking back at you, but not bothering to fix a smile on your face in response; he could read you like a book anyway.

‘Just thinking about stuff.’ You whisper back, becoming aware of the cavernous feeling of the room as your words disperse into the darkness, and shuffling towards him as a result, sighing contently when he moves his arm to lay around your shoulders, and you hold his torso more firmly with your arm, laying your head comfortably on his chest as you entwine your legs with his.

‘Wanna tell me about it?’ he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair in encouragement, and just as you go to immediately say no, you find something in you wanting to talk about it, to find out just how much Jiyong wanted a child, the thought that if you knew it might convince you...

But just as the words are on the tip of your tongue, he’s whispering in your ear once more.

‘Whatever it is, Jagi…you know I’ll listen to you.’ He murmurs, his voice laden with sleep, and the sound makes your want to tell him take a step back in favor of your need and want for him to get enough sleep.

‘Its nothing huge…I’ll tell you in the morning.’ You murmur back after a moment, tilting your head up to shoot him a small smile and quickly leaning up to peck him on the lips as he makes to protest, before settling yourself back on his chest, hearing him sigh as he silently agrees to let it go till the next day, and feeling yourself calm as he tightens his hold on you as the two of you proceed to succumb to sleep.

However, when you woke up the following morning to cold sheets beneath your hands, only a light blanket covering your body and the light flooding into the room revealing the long since deserted spot on the bed before you, you begin to think that maybe he was keeping his own thoughts from you too...

SEUNGHYUN

‘Leave Daesung, you look exhausted.’ Seunghyun says as he eyes his friend from across the barn, seeing the deathly dark circles beneath his eyes, and te weary sag of his usually taught shoulders, and becoming determined in his will to make sure he rested.

‘Jiyong-hyung said I had to stay on watch duty with you-‘

‘And I’m saying you need to get rest. He has all levels of security on the premises and surrounding areas, Seungri should clock in in about half an hour anyway, and no doubt he will come to check here first, so just…go.’ Seunghyun argues, shooting Daesung the authoritative stare that he’d come to master over the 14 plus years he’d been involved with the others, and seeing it take immediate effect on his most beloved Dongsaeng as he pushes himself up from the chair he’d been sat in watching the other captives, before making his way over to Seunghyun.

‘I’ll call Seungri to tell him to hurry up.’ He murmurs, as he passes, and the older man reaches up to tap him on the arm in comfort, keeping up the cold faced pretense he’d adopted in front of the prisoners, and fighting the reaction that was bubbling under the surface as he glimpes in his peripheral vision a smirk pull at the edges of Kyungil’s lips where he lay ‘sleeping’, knowing he’d have to punish him for it once Daesung had left.

‘I’ll see you in a few hours, Daesungie.’ He responds, settling back in the chair until the younger man had left, and continuing to remain that way for the following five minutes to make sure he wouldn’t return- and also to tease the man chained up before him who, once Daesung had left, had sat up from where he was lying on a mat on the floor, and had proceeded to stare at Seunghyun as he waited for him to speak.

It had become routine.

Ever since Kyungil had given the other man that first bit of information; ever since the connection was made between the two on the first day, Seunghyun had grown a…fondness…for the captive, the other man seeming to simply understand his way of working without him ever having to explain, a thought that had intrigued Seunghyun more than it probably should have.

The first night duty after Kyungil had been strung up- after divulging the information on Seunghyun being the target- the prisoner had admitted that Seunghyun binding him to the bannister had excited him, the concept of the artistic display accompanied with the torturous actions of the sniper, charging his body with a similar adrenaline to that that charged through the man when he was hunting down a target, the admission causing Seunghyun’s blood to rush in his veins, although he’d proceeded to leave the other man in silence.

The second night Seunghyun had bound him to the bars of the cage he had been secluded to along the wall next to his fellow gang members, proceeding to heat and cool the metal bars in quick succession as Kyungil had grunted and groaned in pain and discomfort, whilst still managing to flash the other man his signature smirk until the end. Upon realizing he’d ended his fun, Kyungil had immediately admitted how excited the trick had made him, and against his best interests, Seunghyun had found himself smirking back at the exhausted prisoner, re-positioning him back in his cell and equipping him with a mat to lie on. When Seungri had asked why he had it half an hour later, upon taking over from Seunghyun, the older man had simply told him that he’d provided him with information, and he figured he’d provide more if he was rewarded for doing so…although he didn’t tell him he’d also left a small persimmon with the man too.

The third night, Seunghyun had walked into the barn to find Kyungil already stood in his cell, facing the doorway and barely restraining a smirk as he saw the other man enter, managing to retain a plain expression in front of Daesung, who’d mentioned that the man had only stood 10 minutes before and had remained in that position since, before allowing the smirk to take over his whole expression once the two were alone (minus the other captives, who remained silent on the other side of the barn). That night, Seunghyun had pleased himself with embellishing Kyungil’s skin on his neck with an intricate brand of a dragon, tying the man before him to a table with rough, razor embedded ropes to keep him still- although he imagined he probably wouldn’t have moved anyway, not with the way he appeared to enjoy the experience.

After that it had come to be common place that Kyungil would wait for him to enter the barn for his shift, the man never seeming to tire of Seunghyun’s tricks, and always whispering a quiet thank you whenever he’d leave the barn. It was obvious in the doting, puppy-like gaze that the prisoner had adopted toward the other man that he was enamored with him…but as of yet, Seunghyun was unaware of just what the other man stood for in his mind...

‘Are we not playing tonight?’

His words pull Seunghyun’s mind from the abyss of contemplation and decision-making it had spiraled into, the question making him glance up at the other man from beneath his brows to see him stood close to the bars before him, his gaze inquisitive and innocent until it made contact with Seunghyun’s, when it suddenly turns suggestive and hopeful, the oddness considering Seunghyun’s idea of ‘playing’ always amusing the other man greatly.

‘I don’t think im in the mood tonight.’ Seunghyun murmurs, sighing as he raises his head to sit back properly in the chair, catching the way Kyungil tilts his head slightly in concern as he observes his movements.

‘Something wrong?’

Despite picking up on the curiosity in his tone, masking the man’s want for details, Seunghyun still finds himself wanting to tell Kyungil about his day, the danger in the possibility sending the man to his feet and causing him to begin to slowly pace, first to the bare wall on one side of the barn, and then to the other that housed the other prisoners, paying them no notice, but feeling Kyungil’s eyes on him like an anchor bearing into a seabed.

‘Why do they want me?’ he asks as he passes Kyungil for a third time, the question being worn thin at this point, but he still glances in his direction to insinuate the question was for him, before continuing to pace in wait of his answer.

‘…As I said before…my boss only told me that I had to take you back, he didn’t say-‘

‘And there weren’t any hints, anything that you knew before that might tell you-‘

‘…Seunghyun, all I know is-‘

‘I KNOW THEY WANT ME.’ He roars suddenly, something within him suddenly snapping, his rage appearing from the barely supressed confusion and fear that had been growing on him ever since he found out, and Seunghyun finds himself turning on the other man, reaching through the bars of his cage and grabbing his neck before he can even blink, Kyungil’s expression, rather than the usual smirk, being caught between surprise and suffocated fear, his hands that had come up to instinctively pull Seunghyun’s hand off of him, simply sitting on his wrist as he allows him to contract his grip on his windpipe.

‘What are you going to do?’ he rasps quietly, staring Seunghyun in the eye as he waits for him to make the next move, but simply having the other man glare back at him, too focused on not killing Kyungil as his mind is over taken by confusion, to take notice of anything he was saying.

‘I’m sorry I cant tell you anything else. The only way you’ll know more, is if you come back with me…and you find out for yourself.’ Kyungil whispers, keeping his eyes fixed on the angel’s face of the other man, and dragging in a sudden breath when his grip is suddenly retracted from his neck, the instantaneous-ness of the move leaving him reeling as he watches Seunghyun stride toward the door.

‘Seunghyun? …Seunghyun!’

Kyungil’s calls of his name follow the other man out of the barn, Seungri passing him just outside of the doorway, suddenly spinning in surprise as he watches his hyung brush past him roughly, barely computing in his mind as he beelines for the training room off to the side of the house, blocking any outside view of the barn behind.

He had to know…he needed to know… If he didn’t find out, it was going to rip him apart from the inside out....

…he couldn’t live not knowing much longer…

Its as he crashed through the door to the practice room and smashes his palm against the light switch to illuminate the training space, pausing to allow the struggling filaments to force light into the bulbs hanging high above, that he hears the quiet pants, and the tiny snuffles of fear, the sound pricking at his ears and allowing him to zero in on the right hand corner of the room.

He immediately reaches for the knife caught in its sheath on his waistbelt, but its not until the room floods with light and the apparatus he’d been able to make out before is separated from the darkness that he realizes just what was making the sound, and for once in his life Seunghyun is caught in absolute surprise, as he slowly lowers his weapon to his side.

Because there…crouched before him…staring like some wild animal as it trembled in fear…

…was a child.

(T.B.C)

[littleangryhammy]

Jumper guy/ HamBurr drabble

So I did a thing... I saw a request done by another writer on tumblr( I can't remember who now) but I loved the concept so much I decided to do my own. It's probably so full of spelling and grammar mistakes IM SORRY I AM TRASH. And unfortunately I have no one to proof read for me. Please be gentle with me it's my first time posting any of my work. >< Also I'm planning on taking requests so if you have any fire then my way ☺️ Jumper guy Pairing: Alexander Hamilton/Aaron Burr Rating: T I hope you guys like it <3 Aaron flipped over another page in his book and wiped his brow with his sleeve, he sighed heavily before leaning into the cold breeze being created by a fan he had sat on his desk. Three frickin' days it had been like this, a heat wave was sweeping New York and showed no signs of letting up. Aaron had never been one to enjoy the heat, it was sweaty, sticky and made it almost impossible to have a full nights sleep. It was just all around uncomfortable and Aaron disliked uncomfortable. He felt another bead of sweat form on his brow and cursed, wiping it once more before undoing the top few buttons on his shirt. He cursed himself for not just staying home in his air conditioned apartment but he knew he couldn't. He owned and ran his own bookstore, and even though it had been quite the past few days Aaron just couldn't justify missing work because he was too hot, it seemed like a waste to do that, so he just bought himself a fan and kicked himself mentally for not having air conditioning installed in the store during the last heatwave. Aaron perked up as he heard the familiar sound of the bell above the door jingle as it opened and closed, he glanced at his watch and smiled as if like clock work jumper guy had arrived at exactly half past two. For months this man would turn up almost every day at the same time and he would stay for hours, usually sat crossed legged down one of the aisles, surrounded by small mountains of books, jotting down notes in an old journal of some sort. He had never spoken to the man, as jumper guy never even bothered to buy anything. That had annoyed Aaron at first but every time he attempted to confront him about this he found himself loosing his nerve. The more he observed him the more enthralled with the man he found himself becoming, just by watching him read. After two month of observing Aaron knew how his tongue would slightly stick out of the left side of his mouth when he concentrated, how sometimes he would quietly hum to himself as his eyes darted over the pages, how when he had read something particularly interesting he would get this excited gleam in his eyes and would rush to write it down. After two months He didn't have the heart to ask him to buy something or leave, he enjoyed watching him, it had become somewhat of a daily routine for Aaron. To say that Aaron had developed some kind of fondness for him was correct, in fact that fondness had spiralled down straight into a bit of a crush. He found himself now waiting for him to walk through the door, and everyday he would try to find a reason to talk to him, but even at the end of the day, exactly five minutes before Aaron started closing up a set alarm would sound on the mans phone. Aaron speculated this had been set because the man would get so caught up with what he was reading he lost all sense of time and his surrounding and he needed to be reminded when it was time to leave. Every night he would get up gather his things and put everything back exactly where he found it before scurrying out of the store without so much as a word. So Aaron couldn't even start conversation by saying the store was closing soon because he was long gone before he even took out the keys. Aaron had thought of everything but found all the ideas left something to be desired. They all seemed forced and too thought out. So he decided that if it was going to happen to just let it happen naturally. Aaron smiled as he took the sight of him in, and couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped his lips. The guy was in a jumper... again. This was why Aaron had nicknamed him jumper guy, because even during his awful heat the guy had an jumper on that was oversized to the point that the sleeves covered his finger tips and it hung slightly off of one shoulder. Aaron was starting to think the only thing in this guys wardrobe were huge jumpers. He had his hair tied up today Aaron noted, in a messy bun with strands of hair falling into his face. His glasses as usual sat on the bridge of his nose which seemed to have caught the sun a little bit judging by the light shade of pink that dusted across his cheeks and over his nose. Aaron internally groaned at how cute he looked like that, like he was blushing. Jumper guy nodded in his direction with a shy smile and Aaron gave a small wave, before the man disappeared down one of the aisles. Aaron sighed and relaxed glancing at the thermostat, he realised it was the hottest it had been since the heat wave started. He turned the fans power up to the highest setting and thought about getting himself a drink. He paused, That might be a good way to start a conversation, offer the man a drink! He pondered over this for a while, before with a quite "Fuck it" he quickly moved into the back of the store. He grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge, and hurried back, when he reappeared he saw that the man had already set up camp as usual on the floor and was already surrounded with at least ten books, all open at various chapters. Aaron looked down at the bottle in this hand and watched a drop of condensation run down his finger and drip on to the floor. It was now or never. Jumper guy had his head buried in a book, only lifting his head to glance at the other books that lay open on the floor around him or to jot something down in the usual old journal. Aaron signed and quickly mentally prepared himself before he made his way down the aisle, coming to a stop a few feet away from the piles of books surrounding the smaller man. He stood there for a few moments, then cleared his throat to catch his attention. Nothing. "Ah... excuse me?" He muttered, after waiting a few minutes and still not getting a response he repeated himself a little louder. Still nothing, Aaron sighed again and tried to regain his quickly depleting nerve, it was too much of an opportunity to miss, so he mentally vowed he wouldn't miss it. "Hey!" Jumper guys head shot up and he seemed startled, he stared up at him with a look of shock and confusion that Aaron couldn't help but snort at, he had a real deer in the headlights look. "Um....hi" He smiled sheepishly before closing the book in his hands slowly. "Oh! I guess you're wanting to know why I haven't bought anything yet... I'm sorry I'm a little broke at the moment I needed to study for this big essay I have to do but I don't have the books they recommend that we buy and your store has them and it's the only Bookstore that hasn't asked me to leave after a few days. If I buy something can I stay? I don't mind I can probably afford one, it's just I like your store and it isn't air conditioned which is so rare and pretty great considering-" "Hey" Aaron stopped him, for someone who had been so quite for the past few months he sure did like to talk. "Actually I was just going to offer you this." He held the water up for him to see. The guy glanced at the water then back to Aaron. "I actually brought coffee with me" he smiled, pulling out a flask from his bag. "But thank you for the offer" Aaron blinked once, then again, before he began quietly chuckling to himself which quickly turned into a hearty laugh that only increased by the bewildered look the other was giving him. "Hey what's so funny?! " the man scowled while his face flushed slightly. Aaron wiped the tears from his eyes. "Hot coffee?! Your drinking hot coffee?! And those jumpers! How are you coping in this heat with those!?" He managed to get out in between chuckles. He guy shook his head and slowly joined in with his laughing. "I grew up somewhere a lot hotter then here okay? You should see me in the winter, two jumpers at least! A coat, Hat, scalf, gloves, the works!" He grinned, Aaron liked his smile, he liked it a lot. They laughed together for a few more moments until it died down and Aaron sat, leaning against the opposite shelf. "Hey what's your name? I usually just call you jumper guy in my head" The guy snorted at that but stuck his hand out none the less. "Alexander, Alexander Hamilton." Aaron took Alexanders hand firmly, trying to ignore the sudden rush of tingling that shot up his arm at the contact. "Aaron Burr." There was a pause, a pause so long that he thought the other didn't hear him. Alexander didn't say anything, just stared at him intensely, Aaron opened his mouth to repeat his name when Alexander gasped and jumped up to his knees, gripping Aaron's hand with both of his own. "Wait are you shitting me? You're Aaron Burr?!" He gawked at him, smiling from eat to ear. "You're the guy who went to Princeton and graduated in two years! When I came here I read all about you! I was determined to do exactly what you did, you were like my hero! I thought so many times about what I would say if I ever met you and now your here! So how did you do it? How did you graduate so fast? Did you go into politics after? Why on earth do you work in a bookstore?? With your honours you could have walked into any job you liked! Wait, why are you are you in New York?! I'd heard you'd moved to England. Wait wait did you come back to go back into politics, or maybe law?! I can't believe I've finally met you and-" "Alexander" "Yes sir" "Talk less. Smile more" he instructed, giving Alexander a smile of his own. "But there's so much I need to know about you" he wined a blush appearing across his cheeks, blending into his sun burn. "I've admired you for years" he muttered his blush darkening at least three shades. Aaron was a little taken back, he had met people who were fans of him before but never to this extent. He looked adorable, his cheeks red, gripping on to his hand, looking so hopeful for him to tell him all about himself and for the second time that day Aaron thought "Fuck it". "Have dinner with me" ... ... "Wait what?" "Have dinner with me?" Aaron asked once more. "Like... a date?" Alexander squeaked, his blush darkening once again, Aaron was actually worried his whole head would pop if it darkened anymore. "Well... if you swing that way I guess, if not then just as friends would be fine, I think your interesting Alexander, I'd like to get to know you too". Aaron said softly, and ran a thumb gently over Alexanders. Aaron noticed Alex shiver under the touch. "I swing that way! Well I swing both but I mean, not that it matters but yeah I think a date might be, I mean would be nice. I don't have much money at the moment though so maybe somewhere not too fancy would be best, then next time we can go somewhere better, if there is a next time I mean we should probably see if the first date goes well first but-" Aaron cut off Alexander for the third time today. However this time he decided words what not be enough to stop him, this time he halted the other instantly by pressing his lips softly against his. Alexander tensed at first, to the point that Aaron was going to pull away and apologise, but just before he could Alexander melted into him all at once, his hands moving from his hand to snake up around Aaron's neck. The kiss was simple, nothing too heated but it sent bursts of what felt like electricity running through both of them that, when they eventually parted, left them both breathless and panting. They just stared at each other for a moment while they regained their composures. "Meet me here at eight?" Aaron asked, his eyes still a little glazed from the kiss. Alexander opened his mouth twice and nothing came out, until finally he just nodded frantically. "I'm... ah... gunna go change... I'll meet you here later" He said standing and tripping over the books around him before hurrying off down the aisle. "Hey, wait!" He called out but Alexander was gone. Aaron sighed, maybe he had come on too strong, maybe too quickly. He shook his head and tore his eyes away from the end of the aisle and began collecting the books Alexander had left behind. Aaron already started constructing the apology he would give to Alexander the next time he saw him, if he ever saw him again. He cursed himself for jumping the gun, and hoped that maybe if he was smart he could still salvage a date out of the situation. Aaron was bought out of his thoughts to the sound of hurried foot steps making their way down the aisle, Aaron glanced up only in time for two hand to grab his face before he was pulled into another kiss, this one a little more urgent then the last, the pressure fiercer and the sparks stronger. Aaron dropped the books in his hands and didn't even hear them hit the floor, he just wrapped his arms tightly around the smaller mans waist. Aaron pushed Alexander until his back hit the shelves and then covered his body with his own, not once breaking the kiss. Their mouths opened and tongues began to dance together, gingerly at first before becoming bolder until the little make out session was full of heat, with Alexander nipping gently at his bottom lip and Aaron growling deeply into the kiss. Aaron's hand buried itself in Alexanders hair while the other was firmly planted on Alexanders bottom pulling him as close as he could get him, after a few minutes and a little bit of dry humping the door bell jingled once again and Alexander pulled away from the kiss quickly, panting and blushing with even more stands of hair falling around his face. They couldn't help but chuckle at each other, then even more when an elderly lady began to peruse some near by books. "Alright... Eight. I'll see you then" he grinned and exited the store once more. Aaron chuckled and shook his head. He couldn't wipe the grin of his face. Not even when he asked he elderly lady if she needed any help. Thankfully she refused the help because Aaron mind was definitely elsewhere. He sat back down behind his desk, in front of his fan and slumped back into his chair. He had a date. It had been a while but he had a date! And Aaron could already tell... this one... would definitely be a handful.

[hillbillyisms-blog]

☱ (Llamanorthwest♡)

@llamanorthwest

Perhaps it would be surprising that someone who was as enamored with technology as Fiddleford would have something as low-tech as an actual physical journal with paper pages. But the truth of the matter was that Fiddleford would, on occasion, forget the password to his new-and-improved laptop as well as his ancient one, and that he absolutely depended on the written record to help him remember what was going on in his life. This was, in fact, written in the journal itself at the very beginning.

Fiddleford was absolutely meticulous in regards to the chronicle of his life in the journal, noting every detail (even down to the weather, what he ate, and absolutely everyone he ever said so much as a “hi” to). Interestingly enough, he had very neat handwriting, perfectly legible, printed, and highly stylized. Well, for the most part. As careful as he was about chronicling every detail and writing just about every day, there were occasions where a day or even three or more in a row would be missing. Usually before this happened, his writing would get increasingly sloppy to the point of being illegible. 

Given how much he wrote about his day, it was probably not surprising that Fiddleford had written as extensively about Pacifica and her family as he had about everything and everyone else. His first impression of the family was absolutely glowing with enthusiasm, and his excitement about having them living with him couldn’t have been made more clear:

“Can’t say I’ve ever met a family as charming and as fancy a folk as the Northwests! I can tell they were a might bit shocked about some of the changes that have happened over the course of the years with my living here and all, and it kinda made me feel a little bad what with this mansion being their ancestral home and all. But they were such good sports to take it all in stride. I’m going to do my best to make them feel as welcome as chickens in a henhouse. So glad the mansion has been too big for me to remodel completely. The east wing is practically untouched, and I can tell that has made them feel a little more comfortable.”

He went on to discuss the dinner arrangements he had made and had noted that the cook (whom he mentioned by his first name) appeared to be under great distress when he was usually such a laid-back fellow. Fiddleford had made a little note in the margins to remind himself to talk to him at length after he helped the Northwests settle in. There was a brief bit of speculation about whether the cook might have been having some difficulties with his girlfriend who lived in France.

“I think dinner was a rousing success! I can’t say I have any earthly idea what Mrs. Northwest was talking about half the time (something about taffeta and Vulcan? Vucana? Veruka? wool), but she seemed so pleasant and self-assured that it didn’t bother me none. Mr. Northwest seemed real interested in my projects, but I think I might have gotten a little carried away because I could tell his attention was wandering. Their daughter was a pleasant and polite young lady, but she seemed awfully shy. I get the feeling she might have been a bit uncomfortable around me. I guess they all kinda were, but I can’t say I blame ‘em none. I used to be the crazy old coot that lived in the junkyard; if I was them, I’d be uncomfortable around me, too.”

His positive impression of the Northwest family continued for some time with him rationalizing and explaining away anything that might have been construed as unpleasant or negative. The family was always charming. Mr. Northwest didn’t mean anything insulting at all by what he said. Mrs. Northwest was just being polite. Miss Northwest was probably just having a bad day. The family was clearly just trying to adjust to living with a stranger as strange as him. The Northwests seemed strict with their daughter, but they were clearly looking out for her best interests. The daughter was obviously just displaying typical teenaged behavior that was absolutely nothing to worry about. It seemed Fiddleford McGucket had an excuse for everything.

And then, one day, he wrote about a maid who had come to him in tears (again, he mentioned her by her first name). He wrote at length about the conversation describing how his heart went out to her and how deeply troubled he was to see her in such distress and how she was on the verge of quitting. Here, he expressed grave concern that the Northwests were not treating the staff of the mansion very well at all and described (in just as much detail) how the others had similar troubling stories. Even here, it seemed he was trying to come up with an excuse for their behavior, but he was faltering in it. He noted that he would have to confront the Northwests about this, but the thought of a confrontation was making him anxious. He was unsure about how to present the issue.

From there on out, Fiddleford started making less excuses and expressed doubts regarding the Northwests’ behavior. One day, he made a note about how he had laughed off a joke Mr. Northwest had made. Another example of what a charming fella Mr. Northwest was. But then, Fiddleford wrote that he was beginning to think that maybe Mr. Northwest was covertly mocking him to his face. 

In his journal entries, he started speculating that maybe it wasn’t just that he made the Northwests uncomfortable. Maybe they (and he included Pacifica in this) actually hated him. Maybe they actually found him absolutely loathsome and disgusting. In this speculation, he expressed frustration and a bit of indignant rage along the lines of how he didn’t actually care what they actually thought about him, that if that’s the way they really felt after he had gone to such lengths to make them feel comfortable than maybe they weren’t worth his time, that maybe he should just save himself and the staff some trouble and tell them all that they weren’t welcome on the property anymore. 

But then, he expressed regret about writing such things since he couldn’t possibly know if that was the way they really felt or not, that there really wasn’t that much evidence to support those kind of thoughts, that Mr. and Mrs. Northwest had been exceedingly polite to him, that young Miss Northwest would sometimes take time out of what was clearly a busy schedule and attempt to overcome her shyness by actually talking to him. And then he added that even if they did find him loathsome and disgusting, it wasn’t like it would be that much of a shocker or an incorrect way to think about him. He confessed in his journal that he often thought such things about himself, too.

In other journal entries, he would occasionally express concern about the way the Northwests treated their daughter. Although, his entries made it clear that he had not yet seen anything especially troubling (such as actual physical or emotional abuse; he certainly hadn’t mentioned anything about seeing a bell); it was only certain behaviors (by the daughter or by the parents), the Northwests’ strictness, and occasional comments that sometimes put him on edge and made him worry. He went on a tangent about how parenting could be difficult and far be it from him to tell the Northwests how they should raise their daughter. And here he briefly mentioned about how his uncle and his ex mother-in-law had often (to his irritation) butted in when it came to how him and his ex-wife parented little Tate. He mentioned how it probably wasn’t any of his business anyhow and that everything was probably fine and he was just being a little paranoid (what else was new? he joked, in the journal). 

His most recent journal entry was regarding how he had happened to accidentally overhear Pacifica throwing up in the bathroom. Of course, he mentioned how he had initially thought she was sick and offered to help. Then, he wrote about the very brief conversation they had and some various observations he had made that indicated that sickness or even food poisoning didn’t seem very likely. Fiddleford made it more than clear that the alternative, that Pacifica might be throwing up on purpose, caused him anxiety and even more concern for her well-being, given the potential physical consequences of such behavior. 

He made a note telling himself that he would need to try and do some research on the subject to ascertain why Pacifica might be throwing up on purpose and how he had never dealt with this kind of thing before. He also seemed to be wondering if he should talk to her parents or hold off since it was only one incident and that it was possible he could be wrong about his suspicions. 

“It kinda seems like the approval of her parents means a lot to her. What I’ve read about teenagers is that they can be kind of volatile, too. If I went behind her back and told her parents about what I had witnessed, it might alienate her and make her feel betrayed. Sure, she don’t know me too well, but I’m still hopeful that we can become friends… I think, for the time being, I will hold my tongue. If I notice repeat incidents, I won’t have any choice but to tell her parents in the hope that they will intervene for the safety of their daughter. Whether it ends up making her hate me or not, I don’t think I’d be able to look myself in the mirror in the morning if I just stood by and allowed a youngin to do something so harmful to themselves.”

[airoasis]

The happy secret to better work | Shawn Achor

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/the-happy-secret-to-better-work-shawn-achor/

The happy secret to better work | Shawn Achor

When I was once seven years ancient and my sister was once just 5 years ancient, we were taking part in on top of a bunk bed. I used to be two years older than my sister on the time — I imply, i’m two years older than her now — however at the time it meant she needed to do everything that I wanted to do, and i wanted to play warfare. So we were up on prime of our bunk beds. And on one side of the bunk mattress, I had put out all of my G.I. Joe infantrymen and weaponry. And on the opposite side had been all my sister’s My Little Ponies equipped for a cavalry charge.There are differing accounts of what actually occurred that afternoon, however considering my sister will not be right here with us at present, let me let you know the true story — (Laughter) which is my sister’s somewhat on the clumsy aspect. One way or the other, without any aid or push from her older brother at all, Amy disappeared off of the top of the bunk bed and landed with this crash on the ground. I nervously peered over the facet of the mattress to see what had befallen my fallen sister and saw that she had landed painfully on her fingers and knees on all fours on the ground. I was once frightened considering my father and mother had charged me with making certain that my sister and that i played as safely and as quietly as viable. And seeing as how I had by accident damaged Amy’s arm just one week before — (Laughter) (Laughter ends) heroically pushing her out of the way in which of an oncoming imaginary sniper bullet, (Laughter) for which i’ve yet to be thanked, I was attempting as hard as I would — she didn’t even see it coming — I was attempting hard to be on my best conduct.And i saw my sister’s face, this wail of pain and suffering and surprise threatening to erupt from her mouth and wake my father and mother from the lengthy wintry weather’s nap for which they’d settled. So I did the only factor my frantic seven yr-historical brain would feel to do to restrict this tragedy. And in case you have children, you could have noticeable this hundreds and hundreds of times. I stated, "Amy, wait. Don’t cry. Did you see the way you landed? No human lands on all fours like that. Amy, I believe this means you’re a unicorn." (Laughter) Now, that was once dishonest, due to the fact that there was nothing she would wish greater than to not be Amy the harm 5 yr-old little sister, however Amy the precise unicorn. Of path, this option was once open to her mind at no factor in the past. And also you might see how my poor, manipulated sister confronted clash, as her little mind attempted to devote assets to feeling the soreness and struggling and shock she just skilled, or contemplating her new-observed identification as a unicorn.And the latter received. Instead of crying or ceasing our play, instead of waking my father and mother, with the entire negative consequences for me, a smile spread across her face and he or she scrambled again up onto the bunk mattress with all the grace of a little one unicorn — (Laughter) with one damaged leg. What we stumbled throughout at this smooth age of just 5 and seven — we had no inspiration on the time — was once used to be going be at the forefront of a scientific revolution occurring two decades later in the way that we appear on the human mind.We had stumbled throughout anything referred to as optimistic psychology, which is the intent i’m right here in these days and the motive that I wake up each morning. When I began talking about this research external of academia, with companies and faculties, the first thing they stated to by no means do is to start with a graph. The first thing I want to do is with a graph. This graph appears boring, but it is the rationale I get excited and wake up every morning. And this graph does not even mean anything; it can be fake information. What we observed is — (Laughter) If I got this knowledge finding out you, i’d be thrilled, considering the fact that there is a pattern there, and that means that i will be able to get published, which is all that fairly concerns. There’s one bizarre crimson dot above the curve, there’s one weirdo within the room — i do know who you are, I noticed you earlier — that’s no difficulty. That is no quandary, as most of you realize, given that i will just delete that dot. I will be able to delete that dot because that’s naturally a dimension error. And we all know that’s a dimension error on account that it can be messing up my data. (Laughter) So one of the vital first things we educate individuals in economics, information, trade and psychology publications is how, in a statistically legitimate means, do we do away with the weirdos.How will we eliminate the outliers that will to find the line of first-class fit? Which is fantastic if i’m trying to find out what number of Advil the average person must be taking — two. But when i am interested in your expertise, or for happiness or productivity or vigour or creativity, we’re developing the cult of the ordinary with science. If I asked a question like, "How speedy can a little one gain knowledge of how one can learn in a classroom?" scientists trade the reply to "How quick does the natural child gain knowledge of learn how to learn in that study room?" and we tailor the class in the direction of the ordinary. If you fall below the natural, then psychologists get extremely joyful, considering the fact that that suggests you’re depressed or have a sickness, or hopefully each. We’re hoping for each considering our business model is, when you come into a medication session with one trouble, we need to ensure you go away understanding you’ve gotten ten, so you preserve coming again.We’ll go back into your childhood if imperative, however finally we wish to make you typical again. However ordinary is purely typical. And confident psychology posits that if we be trained what’s simply usual, we will remain purely average. Then instead of deleting these constructive outliers, what I intentionally do is come right into a population like this one and say, why? Why are a few of you excessive above the curve in terms of intellectual, athletic, musical ability, creativity, energy stages, resiliency in the face of mission, humorousness? Whatever it is, as an alternative of deleting you, what I want to do is be trained you. Considering that probably we are able to glean expertise, now not just the way to move humans as much as the average, however move the whole natural up in our organizations and colleges worldwide. The intent this graph is primary to me is, on the information, the majority of the information just isn’t positive.In fact it can be negative. Most of it can be about murder, corruption, diseases, traditional mess ups. And very swiftly, my brain starts to suppose that is the accurate ratio of negative to positive on this planet. This creates "the scientific university syndrome." throughout the first yr of scientific training, as you learn by way of a list of the entire symptoms and illnesses, out of the blue you appreciate you’ve gotten all of them. (Laughter) i’ve a brother in-law named Bobo, which is a entire other story. Bobo married Amy the unicorn. Bobo called me on the mobile — (Laughter) from Yale scientific university, and Bobo said, "Shawn, i’ve leprosy." (Laughter) Which, even at Yale, is extraordinarily rare. However I had no concept console terrible Bobo considering that he had just gotten over an entire week of menopause. (Laughter) We’re finding it can be not always the truth that shapes us, however the lens by means of which your mind views the arena that shapes your reality. And if we will alternate the lens, now not simplest can we alter your happiness, we are able to exchange each single academic and trade effect whilst. I applied to Harvard on a dare. I did not anticipate to get in, and my family had no money for school.When I received a army scholarship two weeks later, they let me go. Whatever that wasn’t even a possibility grew to be a truth. I believed every body there would see it as a privilege as well, that they’d be excited to be there. Even in a classroom stuffed with people smarter than you, I felt you’d be happy just to be in that school room. However what I found is, while some men and women expertise that, when I graduated after my 4 years and then spent the subsequent eight years dwelling within the dorms with the pupils — Harvard requested me to; I wasn’t that man.(Laughter) I was an officer to suggestions students via the complex four years. And in my research and my teaching, I found that these pupils, no matter how joyful they have been with their normal success of entering the tuition, two weeks later their brains have been focused, now not on the privilege of being there, nor on their philosophy or physics, however on the competitors, the workload, the hassles, stresses, complaints. After I first went in there, I walked into the learners eating hall, which is the place my pals from Waco, Texas, which is the place I grew up — i know a few of you already know this. After they’d consult with, they’d seem around, and say, "This dining hall looks like anything out of Hogwart’s." It does, on the grounds that that was once Hogwart’s and that is Harvard.And once they see this, they say, "Why do you waste your time studying happiness at Harvard? What does a Harvard pupil in all probability have got to be sad about?" Embedded within that question is the important thing to understanding the science of happiness. Because what that query assumes is that our outside world is predictive of our happiness phases, when certainly, if i do know the whole lot about your external world, i can only predict 10% of your long-term happiness. Ninety percent of your lengthy-time period happiness is anticipated now not with the aid of the external world, but by the way your mind strategies the world. And if we modify it, if we alter our system for happiness and success, we can change the best way that we can then influence fact.What we determined is that most effective 25% of job successes are envisioned with the aid of IQ, 75 percent of job successes are anticipated by your optimism levels, your social support and your capacity to peer stress as a project alternatively of as a danger. I talked to a brand new England boarding institution, on the whole essentially the most prestigious one, and they mentioned, "We already recognize that. So each 12 months, rather of simply teaching our scholars, we have a wellbeing week. And we’re so excited. Monday night time now we have the arena’s leading expert will converse about adolescent melancholy. Tuesday night time it is tuition violence and bullying. Wednesday night is eating disorders. Thursday night is illicit drug use. And Friday night we’re looking to make a decision between dicy sex or happiness." (Laughter) I mentioned, "that is most humans’s Friday nights." (Laughter) (Applause) Which i’m completely happy you really liked, but they didn’t like that in any respect.Silence on the phone. And into the silence, I mentioned, "i would be blissful to converse at your tuition, but that’s not a wellbeing week, that’s a sickness week. You’ve gotten outlined all of the terrible matters that can happen, but now not talked concerning the positive." The absence of sickness is just not health. Here’s how we get to well being: We need to reverse the method for happiness and success. In the final three years, I’ve traveled to forty five international locations, working with colleges and businesses in the midst of an economic downturn.And that i located that most organizations and colleges comply with a formulation for success, which is this: If I work more difficult, i’ll be more effective. And if i am more victorious, then i’ll be happier. That undergirds most of our parenting and managing patterns, the best way that we encourage our habits. And the predicament is it is scientifically damaged and backwards for two motives. Each time your mind has a success, you just transformed the goalpost of what success gave the impression of. You acquired good grades, now you need to get higher grades, you got into a good institution and after you get into a better one, you bought a excellent job, now you have to get a greater job, you hit your earnings target, we’re going to trade it. And if happiness is on the reverse part of success, your brain not ever will get there. We now have pushed happiness over the cognitive horizon, as a society. And that’s on the grounds that we believe we have got to be victorious, then we will be happier. But our brains work in the reverse order. If which you can lift somebody’s stage of positivity in the reward, then their brain experiences what we now name a happiness capabilities, which is your brain at positive performs enormously better than at bad, impartial or harassed.Your intelligence rises, your creativity rises, your vigour levels upward thrust. Correctly, we now have found that each single business end result improves. Your mind at positive is 31% more productive than your mind at poor, neutral or burdened. You are 37% better at sales. Medical professionals are 19 percent turbo, extra accurate at arising with the proper prognosis when confident alternatively of poor, neutral or burdened. This means that we can reverse the method. If we can have the ability of becoming constructive in the present, then our brains work much more efficaciously as we’re in a position to work harder, rapid and more intelligently. We must be able to reverse this system to be able to begin to peer what our brains are simply ready of. Due to the fact that dopamine, which floods into your system when you are positive, has two features.Now not most effective does it make you happier, it turns on all of the studying centers on your brain permitting you to adapt to the arena in a further method. We now have discovered there are approaches which you could teach your mind to be equipped to become extra positive. In only a two-minute span of time achieved for 21 days in a row, we are able to in reality rewire your brain, allowing your mind to definitely work extra with a bit of luck and more efficaciously. We have finished these things in research now in each enterprise that I’ve labored with, getting them to put in writing down three new things that they’re grateful for for 21 days in a row, three new matters every day. And on the finish of that, their mind begins to keep a pattern of scanning the world no longer for the bad, but for the positive first.Journaling about one optimistic expertise you’ve had over the past 24 hours enables your brain to relive it. Activity teaches your mind that your conduct concerns. We find that meditation allows for your mind to recover from the cultural ADHD that we have now been creating through trying to do more than one duties without delay and enables our brains to focus on the undertaking at hand. And finally, random acts of kindness are mindful acts of kindness. We get individuals, when they open up their inbox, to write one confident e-mail praising or thanking an individual in their help network. And by means of doing these pursuits and via training your brain similar to we instruct our bodies, what we’ve got located is we will reverse the formula for happiness and success, and in doing so, not most effective create ripples of positivity, but a real revolution.Thank you very a lot. (Applause) .

[batterymonster2021]

The happy secret to better work | Shawn Achor

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/the-happy-secret-to-better-work-shawn-achor/

The happy secret to better work | Shawn Achor

When I was once seven years ancient and my sister was once just 5 years ancient, we were taking part in on top of a bunk bed. I used to be two years older than my sister on the time — I imply, i’m two years older than her now — however at the time it meant she needed to do everything that I wanted to do, and i wanted to play warfare. So we were up on prime of our bunk beds. And on one side of the bunk mattress, I had put out all of my G.I. Joe infantrymen and weaponry. And on the opposite side had been all my sister’s My Little Ponies equipped for a cavalry charge.There are differing accounts of what actually occurred that afternoon, however considering my sister will not be right here with us at present, let me let you know the true story — (Laughter) which is my sister’s somewhat on the clumsy aspect. One way or the other, without any aid or push from her older brother at all, Amy disappeared off of the top of the bunk bed and landed with this crash on the ground. I nervously peered over the facet of the mattress to see what had befallen my fallen sister and saw that she had landed painfully on her fingers and knees on all fours on the ground. I was once frightened considering my father and mother had charged me with making certain that my sister and that i played as safely and as quietly as viable. And seeing as how I had by accident damaged Amy’s arm just one week before — (Laughter) (Laughter ends) heroically pushing her out of the way in which of an oncoming imaginary sniper bullet, (Laughter) for which i’ve yet to be thanked, I was attempting as hard as I would — she didn’t even see it coming — I was attempting hard to be on my best conduct.And i saw my sister’s face, this wail of pain and suffering and surprise threatening to erupt from her mouth and wake my father and mother from the lengthy wintry weather’s nap for which they’d settled. So I did the only factor my frantic seven yr-historical brain would feel to do to restrict this tragedy. And in case you have children, you could have noticeable this hundreds and hundreds of times. I stated, "Amy, wait. Don’t cry. Did you see the way you landed? No human lands on all fours like that. Amy, I believe this means you’re a unicorn." (Laughter) Now, that was once dishonest, due to the fact that there was nothing she would wish greater than to not be Amy the harm 5 yr-old little sister, however Amy the precise unicorn. Of path, this option was once open to her mind at no factor in the past. And also you might see how my poor, manipulated sister confronted clash, as her little mind attempted to devote assets to feeling the soreness and struggling and shock she just skilled, or contemplating her new-observed identification as a unicorn.And the latter received. Instead of crying or ceasing our play, instead of waking my father and mother, with the entire negative consequences for me, a smile spread across her face and he or she scrambled again up onto the bunk mattress with all the grace of a little one unicorn — (Laughter) with one damaged leg. What we stumbled throughout at this smooth age of just 5 and seven — we had no inspiration on the time — was once used to be going be at the forefront of a scientific revolution occurring two decades later in the way that we appear on the human mind.We had stumbled throughout anything referred to as optimistic psychology, which is the intent i’m right here in these days and the motive that I wake up each morning. When I began talking about this research external of academia, with companies and faculties, the first thing they stated to by no means do is to start with a graph. The first thing I want to do is with a graph. This graph appears boring, but it is the rationale I get excited and wake up every morning. And this graph does not even mean anything; it can be fake information. What we observed is — (Laughter) If I got this knowledge finding out you, i’d be thrilled, considering the fact that there is a pattern there, and that means that i will be able to get published, which is all that fairly concerns. There’s one bizarre crimson dot above the curve, there’s one weirdo within the room — i do know who you are, I noticed you earlier — that’s no difficulty. That is no quandary, as most of you realize, given that i will just delete that dot. I will be able to delete that dot because that’s naturally a dimension error. And we all know that’s a dimension error on account that it can be messing up my data. (Laughter) So one of the vital first things we educate individuals in economics, information, trade and psychology publications is how, in a statistically legitimate means, do we do away with the weirdos.How will we eliminate the outliers that will to find the line of first-class fit? Which is fantastic if i’m trying to find out what number of Advil the average person must be taking — two. But when i am interested in your expertise, or for happiness or productivity or vigour or creativity, we’re developing the cult of the ordinary with science. If I asked a question like, "How speedy can a little one gain knowledge of how one can learn in a classroom?" scientists trade the reply to "How quick does the natural child gain knowledge of learn how to learn in that study room?" and we tailor the class in the direction of the ordinary. If you fall below the natural, then psychologists get extremely joyful, considering the fact that that suggests you’re depressed or have a sickness, or hopefully each. We’re hoping for each considering our business model is, when you come into a medication session with one trouble, we need to ensure you go away understanding you’ve gotten ten, so you preserve coming again.We’ll go back into your childhood if imperative, however finally we wish to make you typical again. However ordinary is purely typical. And confident psychology posits that if we be trained what’s simply usual, we will remain purely average. Then instead of deleting these constructive outliers, what I intentionally do is come right into a population like this one and say, why? Why are a few of you excessive above the curve in terms of intellectual, athletic, musical ability, creativity, energy stages, resiliency in the face of mission, humorousness? Whatever it is, as an alternative of deleting you, what I want to do is be trained you. Considering that probably we are able to glean expertise, now not just the way to move humans as much as the average, however move the whole natural up in our organizations and colleges worldwide. The intent this graph is primary to me is, on the information, the majority of the information just isn’t positive.In fact it can be negative. Most of it can be about murder, corruption, diseases, traditional mess ups. And very swiftly, my brain starts to suppose that is the accurate ratio of negative to positive on this planet. This creates "the scientific university syndrome." throughout the first yr of scientific training, as you learn by way of a list of the entire symptoms and illnesses, out of the blue you appreciate you’ve gotten all of them. (Laughter) i’ve a brother in-law named Bobo, which is a entire other story. Bobo married Amy the unicorn. Bobo called me on the mobile — (Laughter) from Yale scientific university, and Bobo said, "Shawn, i’ve leprosy." (Laughter) Which, even at Yale, is extraordinarily rare. However I had no concept console terrible Bobo considering that he had just gotten over an entire week of menopause. (Laughter) We’re finding it can be not always the truth that shapes us, however the lens by means of which your mind views the arena that shapes your reality. And if we will alternate the lens, now not simplest can we alter your happiness, we are able to exchange each single academic and trade effect whilst. I applied to Harvard on a dare. I did not anticipate to get in, and my family had no money for school.When I received a army scholarship two weeks later, they let me go. Whatever that wasn’t even a possibility grew to be a truth. I believed every body there would see it as a privilege as well, that they’d be excited to be there. Even in a classroom stuffed with people smarter than you, I felt you’d be happy just to be in that school room. However what I found is, while some men and women expertise that, when I graduated after my 4 years and then spent the subsequent eight years dwelling within the dorms with the pupils — Harvard requested me to; I wasn’t that man.(Laughter) I was an officer to suggestions students via the complex four years. And in my research and my teaching, I found that these pupils, no matter how joyful they have been with their normal success of entering the tuition, two weeks later their brains have been focused, now not on the privilege of being there, nor on their philosophy or physics, however on the competitors, the workload, the hassles, stresses, complaints. After I first went in there, I walked into the learners eating hall, which is the place my pals from Waco, Texas, which is the place I grew up — i know a few of you already know this. After they’d consult with, they’d seem around, and say, "This dining hall looks like anything out of Hogwart’s." It does, on the grounds that that was once Hogwart’s and that is Harvard.And once they see this, they say, "Why do you waste your time studying happiness at Harvard? What does a Harvard pupil in all probability have got to be sad about?" Embedded within that question is the important thing to understanding the science of happiness. Because what that query assumes is that our outside world is predictive of our happiness phases, when certainly, if i do know the whole lot about your external world, i can only predict 10% of your long-term happiness. Ninety percent of your lengthy-time period happiness is anticipated now not with the aid of the external world, but by the way your mind strategies the world. And if we modify it, if we alter our system for happiness and success, we can change the best way that we can then influence fact.What we determined is that most effective 25% of job successes are envisioned with the aid of IQ, 75 percent of job successes are anticipated by your optimism levels, your social support and your capacity to peer stress as a project alternatively of as a danger. I talked to a brand new England boarding institution, on the whole essentially the most prestigious one, and they mentioned, "We already recognize that. So each 12 months, rather of simply teaching our scholars, we have a wellbeing week. And we’re so excited. Monday night time now we have the arena’s leading expert will converse about adolescent melancholy. Tuesday night time it is tuition violence and bullying. Wednesday night is eating disorders. Thursday night is illicit drug use. And Friday night we’re looking to make a decision between dicy sex or happiness." (Laughter) I mentioned, "that is most humans’s Friday nights." (Laughter) (Applause) Which i’m completely happy you really liked, but they didn’t like that in any respect.Silence on the phone. And into the silence, I mentioned, "i would be blissful to converse at your tuition, but that’s not a wellbeing week, that’s a sickness week. You’ve gotten outlined all of the terrible matters that can happen, but now not talked concerning the positive." The absence of sickness is just not health. Here’s how we get to well being: We need to reverse the method for happiness and success. In the final three years, I’ve traveled to forty five international locations, working with colleges and businesses in the midst of an economic downturn.And that i located that most organizations and colleges comply with a formulation for success, which is this: If I work more difficult, i’ll be more effective. And if i am more victorious, then i’ll be happier. That undergirds most of our parenting and managing patterns, the best way that we encourage our habits. And the predicament is it is scientifically damaged and backwards for two motives. Each time your mind has a success, you just transformed the goalpost of what success gave the impression of. You acquired good grades, now you need to get higher grades, you got into a good institution and after you get into a better one, you bought a excellent job, now you have to get a greater job, you hit your earnings target, we’re going to trade it. And if happiness is on the reverse part of success, your brain not ever will get there. We now have pushed happiness over the cognitive horizon, as a society. And that’s on the grounds that we believe we have got to be victorious, then we will be happier. But our brains work in the reverse order. If which you can lift somebody’s stage of positivity in the reward, then their brain experiences what we now name a happiness capabilities, which is your brain at positive performs enormously better than at bad, impartial or harassed.Your intelligence rises, your creativity rises, your vigour levels upward thrust. Correctly, we now have found that each single business end result improves. Your mind at positive is 31% more productive than your mind at poor, neutral or burdened. You are 37% better at sales. Medical professionals are 19 percent turbo, extra accurate at arising with the proper prognosis when confident alternatively of poor, neutral or burdened. This means that we can reverse the method. If we can have the ability of becoming constructive in the present, then our brains work much more efficaciously as we’re in a position to work harder, rapid and more intelligently. We must be able to reverse this system to be able to begin to peer what our brains are simply ready of. Due to the fact that dopamine, which floods into your system when you are positive, has two features.Now not most effective does it make you happier, it turns on all of the studying centers on your brain permitting you to adapt to the arena in a further method. We now have discovered there are approaches which you could teach your mind to be equipped to become extra positive. In only a two-minute span of time achieved for 21 days in a row, we are able to in reality rewire your brain, allowing your mind to definitely work extra with a bit of luck and more efficaciously. We have finished these things in research now in each enterprise that I’ve labored with, getting them to put in writing down three new things that they’re grateful for for 21 days in a row, three new matters every day. And on the finish of that, their mind begins to keep a pattern of scanning the world no longer for the bad, but for the positive first.Journaling about one optimistic expertise you’ve had over the past 24 hours enables your brain to relive it. Activity teaches your mind that your conduct concerns. We find that meditation allows for your mind to recover from the cultural ADHD that we have now been creating through trying to do more than one duties without delay and enables our brains to focus on the undertaking at hand. And finally, random acts of kindness are mindful acts of kindness. We get individuals, when they open up their inbox, to write one confident e-mail praising or thanking an individual in their help network. And by means of doing these pursuits and via training your brain similar to we instruct our bodies, what we’ve got located is we will reverse the formula for happiness and success, and in doing so, not most effective create ripples of positivity, but a real revolution.Thank you very a lot. (Applause) .

[flowers60frost-blog]

Meet Computer Building Simulator, A DIY Teaching Tool That Could …

MegaDev is a one hundred% legal trainer software program, which enables you to apply cheats in single player Pc-Games to customize your gaming knowledge. Pilots are essential to practice simulator education every 9-12 months to prepare for rain, snow, ice, fog, wind, and other types of inclement climate, along with emergencies like engine and hydraulic failures. "Simulators give pilots the chance where i can download pc building simulator to repeatedly practice and turn into expert at handling circumstances that hardly ever happen on actual flights, so when they are all of a sudden confronted with an inflight emergency, it will not be the very first time they have observed such a challenge," he explains. The most recent version of Pc Constructing simulator involves Antec situations from the company's more nicely-recognized series. According to the game's devs, the most current update consists of five of the manufacturer's chassis: the DF500, the fancy-pants P110 Luce, the P6, P7 window and P8 series. Personally, I have the ability how to download pc building simulator to build PCs (I've actually been tinkering with then because I was 4 and now I am 43 and I do it for a job), but I would rather dedicate the time to just blobbing out and playing games these days and the further funds it charges to have 1 built is not an concern. Absent such sensible capabilities, I'm not certain what the actual point of this point would be. Pointing and clicking on digital objects to mount” them in a chassis may well have some restricted utility as far as displaying you how items ought to appear (and I am not dismissing that). But there are actually hundreds of excellent guides to creating PCs on the web, like videos, photographic tutorials, and written articles. Integrating actual elements PC Building Simulator pc download from name-brand manufacturers is an fascinating twist, but the inability to execute meaningful modeling (through no fault of the developers) is going to constrain real-world usefulness. A Pc component visualizer is no type of bad point, but we'd advocate waiting and seeing how this evolves ahead of dropping cash on it. Battlefield 4's multiplayer contains three playable factions—the United States, China, and Russia—fighting against every single other, in up to 64-player matches on Computer. A newly reintroduced "Commander Mode", last observed in Battlefield 2142, offers a single player on each and every team a actual-time approach-like view of the complete map and the potential to give orders to teammates. Also, the Commander can observe the battle through How to Download PC Building Simulator the eyes of the players on the battlefield, deploying automobile and weapon drops to "preserve the war machinery going", and order in missile strikes on hostile targets.A spectator mode is integrated, enabling players to spectate other people in very first or third individual, as nicely as use a cost-free camera to pan around the map from any angle. Hardware makers such as MSI, CORSAIR, COOLER MASTER, EVGA, NZXT, ARCTIC, SILVERSTONE, RAIJINTEK, Group GROUP LTD and a lot more have allowed true-to-life models of their items to be included. Much PC Building Simulator PC Download more partners will be added all through the game's early access period and beyond. In addition to the hardware partners, Pc Constructing Simulator have also teamed up with UL Benchmarks (formerly Futuremark) so players can benchmark their in-game systems making use of a simulation of 3DMark. 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Be Inteha Episodes 1-21 Review – No Baddies Yet!

So I sat on this drama like a mother hen does on her eggs. Waiting for it to hatch (read end) because with the never failing Midas touch that I seem to have with every drama I review derailing off the tracks the minute I have posted my review – I did not want this one to lose its charm. But then I remembered what I read once about how a mother bird teaches its baby to fly by throwing it out of its nest with the confidence that it will spread its wings and fly (not sure if that is true but the thought stuck with me anyway!). And I decided to switch to mama bird and post this review hoping the drama will continue to be entertaining. A Six Sigma Plus production, Be Inteha is directed by Qasim Ali Mureed and written by Rida Bilal. The drama airs every Wednesday on Urdu 1 and has aired 22 episodes so far. Six Sigma Plus is quite a popular name but the writer and director rang no bells. When I saw that the lead couple in the promos is Sami Khan and Naveen Waqar, I was not too tempted to watch the drama either until I heard the OST and nothing reels me in quicker than a catchy OST. Be Inteha revolves around three families. We are introduced to Bisma (Naveen Waqar),her sister Zara (Ghana Ali) and their parents Waseem Abbas and Shaista Jabeen. Bisma is engaged to be married to Ali (Faris Shafi) whose parents have been close and long term friends of Bisma’s parents. The third family comprises Sherry ( Sami Khan) and his mother Rubina Ashraf. While Bisma is not in love with Ali she is not against the upcoming marriage either. There is a restlessness about her but she does not seem to be moping around or opposing the marriage either. Until Sherry spots her while out with his mother shopping and it is a classic case of love at first sight. He then pulls out all the stops to get married to Bisma. Now I am in a bit of a quandary here. If I go further into the story, then I give away everything that follows and while there is nothing in this story that would excite Sherlock Holmes – it is a very pleasant watch. Let me focus instead on what appeals to me in this drama: Simple yet not too simple For those of you who have often read my reviews, you would have understood this much about me by now that I seem to want to happily fish out dramas that are not too popular, marketing wise nor viewer wise and end up watching them. That strategy, or preference, sometimes fails me and I lose interest in the drama or keep watching while tearing my hair out but sometimes I too am pleasantly surprised like I was with dramas such as Tum Yaad Aye, Sun Yaara and Tumhare Hain to name a few. I do not mind the predictability, actually welcome it and while this drama seems like a simple love story too it has a few surprises and the manner in which the story is presented keeps my interest alive. Interesting dialogue(s) I was on the brink of doing a review after watching the first five episodes when Sherry said about how he would love to say he would give his life for Bisma except that he does not want to because he wants to live his life with her, a long life, rather than just giving it up. That line really caught my attention for man, how many times have we heard that line in dramas and movies about how the ‘hero’ declares he would lay his life down for the ‘heroine’ and we all say, this! He loves her no doubt! Umm. But how refreshing and interesting was it to hear him word his sentiments differently and still have me hand out a similar verdict .Which brings me to another thing that stood out in this drama and I loved. Cliché confrontations What may that be, you wonder? So imagine a cliché coming running at you. Same scenes, same lines done to death. You nod your head, reach for your phone, mentally already saying the lines you expect to be said because that is what happens in each drama, right? For instance, when the about to be bride suddenly does a runner and the sister is offered as the ‘replacement’ bride. Where the mum in law dishes out ‘taana pe taana’ because the bahu dared to express her feelings to her parents about her choice of groom. Where spurned men and women throw ‘forgive and forget’ and ‘move on’ into the garbage can and sink their teeth into the so not interested ‘spurner’ like a dog with a bone and will just not let go. You get the idea. This drama brings you ‘that’ close to the cliché and then you gasp softly, wait what? Nicely done! Beautiful & realistic relationships While there were moments that seemed to be borderline sugar overkill, they managed to step back just in time. While I am all for a wonderful love story, I have begun to realize that I really like observing how all other relationships play out too. Zara and Bisma’s relationship, Bisma’s relationship with her mother in law, the relationship between Bisma and Ali’s families, Bisma’s relationship with her father – they were all so interesting to watch. Yes, I had a few moments when I thought does this really happen and well, while mostly it does not or at least not in the dramas we usually see, it is not really that hard to imagine that such emotions and relationships exist. I love dramas that are close to reality – minus the harsh realities that is. Visually pleasing & OST I watched this drama online and the picture quality was great which really makes an impact on my decision to watch a drama or not. The OST is so addictive and in my search to download it, I happened to come across some comments that suggested it was an adapted/modified version of a song sung by the band Soch. I have no complaints though and prefer this OST version. Sami Khan I know I should say amazing acting and chemistry by everyone in this drama. And yes, Waseem Abbas, Ghana Ali, Naveen Waqar and Faris Shafi all did a decent job but Sami Khan is hands down the reason why this drama worked for me performance wise. I loved how he portrayed Sherry’s character, the brooding, emotional man in love and how he tries to convince Bisma he loves her. Hanging outside her college, otherwise creepy or stalkerish in the real world, was all done so well that I really enjoyed it. I have huge issues with introduction of new characters after ten episodes or so of a drama have aired. It is as if I have emotionally become involved and understood the people so far and suddenly you throw in a medley of new characters and more often than not – does not work for me. Mann Mayal and Intizar are two examples that suddenly spring to mind and that is why I am a bit wary of Be Inteha now for Agha Ali and Saba Hameed have made an appearance a couple of episodes ago and I am still waiting to see how I feel about it. I purposely did not dwell on any details in this overview for those of you who may be tempted to watch this drama. Agha Ali is the misunderstood and egoistic son of a rich socialite mum who wronged his father (no disrespect to real life comparisons of this situation but this scenario is fast becoming the ‘doosri shaadi’ of our dramas nowadays). The story has a bit of a predictable turn now and I can only hope that the cast is able to do justice and keep our interest intact till the end. I would not classify this as a guilty pleasure, rather as I am discovering there is a category somewhere between a guilty pleasure and a must watch and Be Inteha sits very comfortably in that category. The drama does not offer something truly unique and my beef with that? None – for I reckon we have had quite a bit of it over the past couple of days. Sorry, I could not resist haha. Eid Mubarak! Would love to hear if any of you have enjoyed watching Be Inteha as much as I have, or the sweetness got too much for you, or you just love the OST and have had it on repeat for a while