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ladyeliot · 4 years

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Dance with me

Request: Anonymous: Hi saw your post for the Valentine’s Day request and that’s really cause that’s my birthday too so yay 😀 anyway how abt a tony x reader exes angstfluff thanks

Pairing: Tony Stark x Fem!Reader

Summary: As is customary on Valentine's Day, a charity gala is held by your company to raise funds, but this year you'll have to face it alone - your ex-boyfriend won't be with you, or maybe he will?

Warnings: Angst and a bit fluff.

Word count: 2712

A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Valentine’s Day (Prompts)

Your company's annual fundraising party couldn't be more ill-timed. You still didn't understand why it had to be held on 14 February, well you had a pretty good idea. Year after year the upper echelons of New York City and its environs gathered together, more than for a charitable cause, to find the next gossip that would be the most talked about for months to come.

In years past, the only thing that had saved you from the suffering and discomfort you felt every time you walked through the door was your companion, your partner, but that year you had to face all those vipers on your own. The relationship with Tony Stark had come to an end after four years, more than mutually, you took a big part in that decision. Things were becoming difficult for you, it was hard to overcome all the events he was involved in day by day, as well as his constant attempts to save himself from death. You couldn't cope.

It was arguably the most complicated decision you had ever made in your life, there was a long and complex history, your relationship was by no means simple, nor was it easy to begin with, so obviously it wasn't easy to end. You had to endure news that reported Iron Man's disappearance, that he was badly injured and some had even given him up for dead, then everything was solved, but you didn't want to see the day when he really was, you couldn't bear it. It wasn't easy for him either, he was afraid that his actions would put you in danger, so he understood what you were telling him, he accepted your decision and accepted it in the end. You also accepted his decision to go on with his life as a superhero, you could never ask him to do otherwise.

The Frick Collection art museum on Manhattan's Upper East Side was the selected venue for the charity event. It had been ranked for two consecutive years as "one of the most memorable parties of the year" by the New York Times, but your viewpoint was far from those words. Unlike the vast majority of those present you made a rather discreet entrance, you had made the decision to stay calm and leave as soon as possible, so you would have a few drinks, chat with the guests and put the day behind you as soon as possible. After all, it was your duty to get your company's guests to donate as much money as possible to charity.

You could not deny that the atmosphere was not pleasant, visually you found yourself enveloped by numerous pieces of art accompanied by the sweet melody of an orchestra that filled the atmosphere. The architectural elements of the place also generated an escape from the outside world. Generally the conversations were banal, related to work, art, politics or social life, nothing you couldn't cope with, plus the glass of champagne you were holding in your right hand helped with that.

The problem came when they began to notice that you were not accompanied by Mr. Stark on this occasion. Time after time it was your turn to report that the two of you had decided to go your separate ways, and time after time you had to listen to the lamentations, looks of pity, and on several occasions critical remarks about him. What you didn't know was that in the crowd there was a pair of curious eyes watching you.

Your limit was coming to an end, so you decided to escape the atmosphere for a few minutes to get some fresh air, you needed a breather if you were to last a couple of hours in this place. The gardens were just as engrossing as the interior. There was not a single leaf protruding from the vegetation, and the singing of the fountain water professed a relationship in your body, no one could tell you were in the middle of the island of Manhattan.

"Have you given up already?" you closed your eyes as you heard that tone of voice behind you. "I was surprised to see you talking so long with Mrs. Fox, at one point I even thought you were going to spill the champagne on her dress."

Without turning around you smiled at his words, for more than once you had thought of throwing your glass of champagne at them and leaving the place.

"You look beautiful tonight," you felt her voice grow closer. "You've always known I love that dress."

Her body was so close to you that you felt her jacket brush lightly against her bare back. At no time had it crossed your mind that Tony would show up there that night, on the contrary, you thought he would be anywhere else but New York. Taking a breath of air into your lungs, giving yourself strength, you decided to turn around and face him face to face. You hadn't seen each other for months and the last time you did, things didn't go so well, so you hadn't spoken to each other again.

"What are you doing here, Tony?" you asked in a serious tone, which didn't surprise him.

"Assuming this is a benefit party," he began holding out his hands, "I'm guessing drinking several dry martinis, Scotch, champagne, putting up with comments I don't care about and letting them praise me to get my money's worth."

"I thought you hated these kinds of parties," you expounded somewhat uncomfortably at the situation.

"And I do," he stated bluntly, taking a sip of his martini. "But you have to think about charity too, don't you?"

You knew him well enough to differentiate his tones in conversations, you knew when he was using his ironic tone, when he was lying, when he was insecure or when he was speaking from within. On this occasion his words contained extra information that he wasn't telling you, so you opted to give up on him, you had to deal with the people inside that building, you couldn't start a war with Tony right now.

"In that case," you started to walk away towards the inside of the museum, "I hope you enjoy your evening, Tony".

You had left Tony and his dry martini behind, now all you had to do was get through a couple more hours without incident and the day could be over. You picked up another glass of champagne from the tray of one of the waiters and before you could look for a target you were already inside a group of investors of your company showing the best of your smiles.

You kept the thought of him being there from your mind, but it was practically unavoidable for you. You didn't want to destabilise yourself, but it was more than evident that you still felt something towards Tony, feelings don't go away overnight and even more so towards a person you had loved with all your being. He knew it, he had an advantage in that sense, you weren't as good as him at hiding feelings, that's why you chose to stay as far away as possible from your ex-partner. But it wasn't possible.

"Mr. Herbert, Mr. Johnson," as if out of nowhere he joined the group you were conversing with. "Oh, Mrs. Johnson, you look splendid tonight."

Tony's compliments fell on Mrs. Johnson, who blushed when she heard them. Who didn't blush when someone like him told you how beautiful you were? He had a superhuman power over people, and he played it really well.

"Would you allow me to steal Miss Y/L/N from you?" he asked flashing a smile on his face.

"Please," they offered.

"Excuse me," you said with little escape. "I won't be long."

As if you didn't have a word in the matter Tony tackled you, walking a couple of feet away from the group with whom you were getting to close a big deal for the future of the company.

"Tony was about to-"

"Dance with me," he said curtly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"What?" you asked a little puzzled.

His brown eyes stared into yours. You began to get a little nervous at the intensity of his gaze, so you looked around.

"Dance with me."

"I... I don't have time to dance with you," you explained, gesturing with your hands. "I'm here working, you know that better than anyone."

"I know," he nodded his head without taking his eyes off you. "That's why I'm asking you to dance with me. You know I'm the biggest benefactor of the night. So... dance with me." Tony lowered the tone of his voice, more seductive, one you knew perfectly well.

"Are you... blackmailing me? Or, worse, are you buying me with money?" you asked with a somewhat surly frown.

"I wasn't the one who said you were working," he defended himself. "But looking at it that way... there's no one else here who would get the money out of me."

"I thought you were doing this for charity," you attacked him.

"And I am," he said with all the confidence in the world. "But I need you to give your hand out to please me, too."

Tony offered you his hand along with a slight smile slanted across his face. You were playing with fire, you really would be if you decided to take his hand and surrender at his feet. The night would turn around completely, but what you feared most was how it would end. Inside you two opposing parts were fighting to select the best decision, on the one hand your brain was literally telling you to reject him and get out of there as soon as possible, on the other hand your emotions were screaming at you to take his hand and let yourself go. Whatever you did, you were likely to regret it later, so you chose to regret doing it.

You took a breath and released him by placing your hand on his, which amplified his smile even more. Without a second thought, he led you to the dance floor, where the melody coming from a group of musicians could be heard with more effusiveness. It was relaxed, soothing, inviting you to dance in pairs. Tony gently pulled you to his body and placed the palm of his hand on your bare back, too far south for your liking, on the contrary, you placed it on his shoulder.

"Relax," he whispered inches from your face. "We've done this many times."

"I'm relaxed," you lied in a way he couldn't quite believe, so you tried to justify yourself. "I'm just thinking that I should go with Mr. Johnson to-"

"Oh, you're thinking about another man while you're dancing with me?" he asked cutting you off with mock indignation. "Very nice."

You ducked your face with a small smile, which he himself returned along with an intense stare.

"Did I tell you that you look amazing tonight?" he asked, searching your gaze.

"I think you commented on it when we met in the garden," you said, trying not to fall for his charms.

"Then I'll reaffirm it again," his martini breath reached you. "You look beautiful. Plus you're wearing the perfume I gave you."

Discomfort at his words came back to you, and though you avoided showing it your unconscious inspections of your surroundings, avoiding eye contact gave you away.

"Look at me," he demanded.

As you complied with his request, you realised that you didn't know if you would be able to go through with it. The proximity you were having created an intimate situation that was causing numerous memories and feelings to come to your mind and body. For Tony it might have been easy, but for you it wasn't, mostly because you knew that when it was over you were going to go home, to face the reality that he was no longer present. You were not as strong as he was. You hadn't seen him for months, since you broke up, and you knew that it was going to end up hurting you, so you decided to put an end to that dream.

"I think..." you dropped your hand from his shoulder. "I can't go on."

With a calm step you walked away from him, leaving him alone among the other dancing couples, forced a small smile to dedicate it to those people who waved at you as you passed them and headed back outside, finding a place under the night to regain lost strength, praying that Tony wouldn't show up there again. But he wasn't giving up so easily.

"Are you okay?" his figure appeared behind you.

A lump took over your throat as you heard his voice again. You took a deep breath and told yourself to be as nonchalant as possible about the situation.

"Yeah, I just needed to get some air," you commented impassively.

"Okay, I thought you looked a little uncomfortable," he commented, moving to your left side. "You know, it was just a dance."

"Are you kidding me, just a dance?" you said somewhat offended that he barely noticed. "Okay, fine, maybe it's just a dance for you, but it wasn't for me." You had already started to blurt out everything you were thinking, so now you decided not to stop. "These last few months have been horrible, but I was finally starting to take charge of my life completely, and this is a step backwards, I don't want to fall."

"Fall?" Tony cocked his head to one side, clicking his tongue a little. "Do you...do you think these past few months have been easy for me? Because I reckon you think it has been, that I've been 'enjoying the freedom', as you called it."

Tony reminded you of some of the words that came out of your mouth the last time you met at his house, when you went to pick up your things, a fact that embarrassed you greatly.

"I don't think that," you defended yourself by turning away.

"It seems so," his words were firm, as was the step he took towards you. "Listen, I think you know me better than anyone, and just because I don't have the facility you do to show how I feel doesn't mean I'm not affected by things. In case you're interested to know, I haven't left the lab in five months."

The expression on Tony's face had hardened, as had his words.

"I came here with the sole intention of seeing you, of feeling something again," he clenched his jaw.

"And what position does that put me in?" you asked raising your tone as he did and boring your eyes into his. "You come here, you see me, you feel something and you disappear..."

"Who said anything about disappearing?" he frowned lifting his chin.

"Tony, I don't know with what intention you came here tonight or what you expected to happen," you said, feeling more vulnerable, with a tone of sadness, "but what is clear is that we made a decision and no matter how hard it is, we must accept it. It is clear that there are still feelings, at least on my part, but let's put the past behind us," you paused under his watchful gaze. "I'd better get going."

Saying those words and checking the stiffness in Tony's countenance you opted to continue on your way.

"Wait," Tony stopped your steps by grabbing your arm. "You think I can let you go after what you just said?"

"Enjoy your night, Tony."

That's how for the first time you were brave enough to take back the reins of your life, closing the door to the past and opening a window to the future.

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neednothavehappenedtobetrue · 3 years

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hello friends this is a post about Food Issues, having a body, and wearing clothes. I would actually like some advice, if you have any ideas for how to circumvent this problem.

tl:dr: all of my clothes are too big. like, to a ludicrous, untenable point. I need to wear clothes, as one does, but how?

I have lost an amount of weight recently, because of the Not Eating Problem. I do not own a scale and am not interested in one, for compulsion-minimization reasons, so I do not know how much weight.

the problem, however, is that absolutely none of my pants fit! I don't have a lot of summer pants, like three pairs, and all of the ones I have are much too big now. very too big.

I am not super invested in how clothes look on me, but I generally like to own at least some clothes that support the standard modesty requirements for leaving one's home. significantly too-big pants just don't want to stay on your body, because of how gravity is.

I don't own a belt. I could get one, which might fix the problem for the pair of pants I wear most often, so I should do that, but I don't think the other two pairs of pants have belt loops. I should dig them out of the laundry (or, like, wash the laundry) so I can check. is there a way to belt pants that don't come with loops?

belt acquisition would bring my wearable wardrobe to at least one pair of pants, no skirts, and I think three dresses, but I'd have to try the third one on. dresses tend to work better because they just look sort of awkwardly large on me, rather than literally trying to migrate off my body whenever gravity happens.

oh, plus my new dress, which I haven't unboxed yet, but also did buy with the assumption that I was approximately the size my body was in April, and I am some distance from that size, so we'll see how that goes.

so four dresses, one of them theoretically a bit fancy for casual wear, but also clothes is clothes, and one pair of pants if I can figure out belts.

that's not completely dire, but it's also Not Great, right? how many clothes items should one have? that doesn't seem like enough. I feel like I should have maybe two pairs of pants, in theory. also, I'm quite bad at laundry, which would be a problem even if I could wear all the clothes I have.

I am hesitant to buy pants that fit my current body size, for several reasons

(a I don't know how long I'm going to be here. I'm eating slightly better. I'm certainly not out of the woods, but I'm cautiously optimistic. my understanding of how this works is that once you start eating reliably, you bounce back up to somewhere that I am hoping is roughly around where I started out, so I can wear my clothes again and not have to buy a whole-ass wardrobe. if I do end up in a very different place long-term, I will burn that bridge when I come to it.

the place I currently am in seems temporary, is my point.

(b I do not actually spend a lot of time actively thinking about my weight, even when my food issues are as bad as they get, but I do have a history of having big negative feelings when I discover that clothes that used to fit me are now too small, because of Cultural Messaging and also being neurotic. I am feeling a bit fragile and the idea of giving myself a ticket for Future Bad Feelings About Your Body To Be Redeemed Once You Start Taking Care Of Yourself Again seems like a bad ticket to get.

(c being more mentally ill is already costing somewhat more money than being less mentally ill does, which is making me a bit scrupulous about the idea of buying clothes that will only be useful to me for... what, like a month? who knows! I do actually have the money, but it feels like Bad Choices money and I'm already spending my Bad Choices money on "making my life easier so I can focus on trying not to die."

(d this problem doesn't feel as insurmountable as the others, but usually my clothes acquisition process involves "talking to my mom or aunts about different clothes items" and I 3000% can't do that here,

all of those people would hear "lost weight due to literally starving to the point of physical sickness" and go either "great!" or, at best "maybe figure out how to eat enough that your body works without gaining any of the weight back" and NOPE.

I'm theoretically supposed to see my parents in October, but I may have to cancel for allegedly COVID reasons but actually like 40% insecurity about being exposed to my parents' COVID choices and 60% the knowledge that if they see me like this they will say something complimentary about my ED-related significant weight loss and that would be... a very bad experience! I do not want to have it! so I should table "convincing my parents not to be here" for right after "being able to dress myself"

also (e I kind of don't want to know how much I weigh now, or any current size measurements of how small I am. it seems like information I would prefer not to have for compulsiveness reasons. they feel like numbers I could get attached to.

okay! time for the solutions I have thought of

(a suck it up! get a BuildingFriend to measure me so I have some numbers that correspond to my body size and just don't be fucking insane about them! use those numbers to buy some clothes, probably cheap ones, as they will be temporary! spend some amount of money! tell my parents nothing and convince them not to come here! eventually donate the clothes when they no longer fit you! just don't be fucking insane about it!

the pros of this plan are "will own clothes I can leave the house in." the cons are that this does hinge to a certain extent on "just don't be insane in the future about things" which seems like writing a check I cannot cash.

(b just figure out how to do laundry, like, once a week. wear your dresses. get a belt. just don't wear pants when you're alone in your apartment, for maximum longevity of your few clothes options.

the pros here are "minimal expenditure of money, less to be insane about in future." the cons are both "laundry is so hard, though" and also, this feels like it will end with my five options getting worn out pretty quickly. how many times can you wear a dress before it ceases to dress? what if one or more of these things gets totally destroyed during its tenure as an essential clothing item and then I have to figure out how to do even MORE laundry?

option A feels like it relies on a major expenditure of current and future Mental Health, which, do I have that? any of that? it's daunting. not impossible, but scary.

option B feels not implausible, but also somewhat tenuous? I would prefer to have more redundancy than that in my "being able to wear clothes" systems. it also relies on Magic Laundry Spoons and I feel like this will result in even more time in objectively very dirty clothes.

I have already considered and discarded "asking my mother for help with the thing she is most literally insane and damaging about" and also "just ceasing to wear clothes" mostly because I have been explicitly told by my therapist that I need to go outside and socialize more and both of those things typically require clothes.

if anyone has an option (c, or a suggestion for either "doing more laundry/preserving longevity of clothes" or sort of "being less insane generally about clothes" please do share!

#ed for ts #disordered eating for ts #weight loss for ts #covid for ts

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mommymooze · 3 years

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Grand ReOpening

Hubert x Reader 5,613 words

descriptions of violence, possession, Modern AU

You work at the newly remodeled and soon to be reopened Museum of History in Enbarr. A huge fire caused devastating damage to the old building, over half of the structure had to be rebuilt from the ground up. Donations pour in from private collectors in the form of money and items to replace those lost to the flames.

You finish arranging the items in the display finally locking the door on the huge glass case. Some items donated were questionable. Everything in this case is legitimate, you reassure yourself. You have already weeded out the fakes, the near perfect imitations. The director asks you how do you know? You explain to him the materials available for crafting such items, known specifics from inventories found in the locked away historical books, too delicate to be placed upon display. Sometimes you tell him you just have a feeling deep inside based on your experience and knowledge of the period. You can’t tell him the truth.

Whenever you touch one of these items, you close your eyes, the history of the item and its owners flash through your mind. It is easy to bypass the collectors, the ones that shove an item in drawers or hang it on a wall as a decoration for years at a time. The imprint left on the item when it was handled, touched, used is what you are able to see most clearly.

The small silver dagger in the upper left of the case. Its card reads: Dorothea Arnault owned this fine silver dagger. It is small enough to conceal in multiple places upon the body. Perhaps she may have concealed it in the curls of her hair for a ball or tucked it away in her corset or bodice.

They write the cards to romanticize the exhibit. People want a good story, not simply a display of stuffy items from long ago. Who would want to read a card stating she kept this particular dagger tucked into a pocket in her left boot for many years, which is exactly what you saw when you touched it.

Metal rimmed reading glasses belonging to the Imperial Spy Master, Hubert von Vestra. The card: Perhaps he wore them while brewing one of his poisons or when translating encoded messages during the war. Hah. He did not obtain these until fifty years old and mostly wore them when reading a book that struck his fancy prior to retiring for the evening.

Ferdinand von Aegir’s opera glasses. The Card: Fine mother-of-pearl covered opera glasses belonged to the Imperial Prime Minister, Ferdinand von Aegir. He may have used them when going to the Mittlefrank Opera house to watch Dorothea perform. Nope. Mother gave him these when he was but a child. Once he was older, after the war, he purchased a pair that much better suited his face, these were much too small for him as an adult.

Oh my, you’ve lost track of the time again. You scurry out of the building, making certain all doors lock behind you. Making it home just in time to change clothes, freshen up, you head back out for the Museum’s Grand Reopening Gala. Thankfully you are not on the front lines, that is the duty of the Curator, the Directors, those on the board and anyone responsible for schmoozing the rich guests, many who donated to the cause, keeping them happy. You put on your headset and have three laptops at your disposal, ready to answer any questions the staff has regarding particular items on display. You are literally fielding questions left and right. To the left are the searches for the director’s queries, to the right the Curator. In the center you follow on the security monitors where they are standing helping you to identify which particular item they need additional information about. Well past midnight you are finally allowed to leave. Security escorts you to your car and you head home for a well deserved sleep.

Two days later is the Grand Reopening. The tickets sold out three months in advance. The most devoted history fans always line up first to observe and breathe in the milieu. Listening to them mill about the displays, pour over the cases of preciously preserved objects is a joy for you.

“Look, this mirror belonged to the Emperor herself. I wonder what these items could say if they could speak. Did they reflect her face as she finished her makeup before one of the grand balls at the time, I wonder?” You knew the answers to some of their ponderings and could not hide your smirk.

A very tall dark haired male catches your eye. Dark suit jacket, black satin shirt, very nicely tailored. His jet black hair blocks the right side of his face from view. His fine leather gloves barely hover over the display case as he observes the items contained within. It suggests a hint of cosplay? Or perhaps he is attempting to channel the spirit of Lord Vestra? Your eyes sweep about the room regularly, spotting him in several different locations, each time it appears he is studying items that had belonged to the man he resembles. You wish you could see his face more clearly, however his back is turned or someone is in the way. You quietly move towards the end of the circuit the floor plan leads you through, close to the guard by the exit. There are three items of clothing belonging to Hubert this person would probably pause to examine, perhaps you can obtain a good look at his face then.

Finally, you glance through two panes of glass to see the face of the man. There is a strong resemblance to Hubert. Not exact, of course, but the cheek bones were close, the eyes are a similar shade of green. His skin tone is much darker, not nearly as pale. Your attention is taken away as the security guard a few feet from you is asked a question by an older woman.

Your focus is then called in front of you as a polite “Ahem” is noted. Standing directly before you and requesting your notice is none other than the tall dark gentleman that you have been secretively following for the last 30 minutes.

“My apologies. Not to be a bother, but I believe that you work here and would like to ask your opinion about something.” His long slender gloved fingers reach into his breast pocket, pulling out a golden box about the size of a cigarette case, barely a centimeter thick. His thumb activates a button on the case and the lid pops open revealing a dull yet clean looking folded yellowed cloth. The initials H.v.V. are sewn in black thread close to the bottom edge. The cloth is folded in a different manner than it normally lies in order to display the initials on top.

You raise your right hand up to the level of the box which is even with your chin. Touching the material with an index finger you feel the violence connected with the item, fainting straightaway.

You find yourself in the employee’s lounge with two security officers and the strange man. He is seated at a table nearby, you are located pleather covered chaise lounge, reclined. Bolting upright on the lounger, you gather your senses about you. The security officers called for EMT’s to check you out. Fortunately, you were unconscious for maybe a minute or less. You flush bright red and blame it on ‘female issues’. They insist that you remain and be checked out.

“I am terribly sorry. I assisted in bringing you back here and now that I know you are well cared for, I shall excuse myself.” The stranger stands to leave. You reach in your pocket, thrusting your business card toward him. He completes the exchange by handing you his. As he returns to the public areas of the museum the EMT’s arrive and begin their 1,000 questions.

After every possible vital statistic can be taken and recorded, they finally leave you to yourself and the security of the museum. They nod in agreement that it was most likely ‘female issues’ and you should increase your iron intake. Once you finally convince your boss that you are well enough to leave, you get in your car, grab some drive thru dinner and head directly home.

A warm cup of tea, comfortable clothing and your soft couch beneath you, you take a deep breath and begin to relax. You mull over what happened when you touched the handkerchief. That sort of reaction is expected when you touch weapons used in the war, used for self-defense, etcetera. You did not expect that from a handkerchief. The cloth was normally soaked in a strong smelling agent and held over the face of his target. Too early for ether, most likely mandrake root. Normally it would cause the target to quickly become unconscious, occasionally it would cause illness along with and possibly but not always death. One of Hubert’s weapons in the darkness, when silence was required.

You pull out the business card. Vincent H. Vestraegir. Hmmm. Possibly from the line of descendants. You enter his number and name into your phone, then text it.

You: I gave you my card at the museum. Do you still wish to discuss the

item?

Waiting for approximately 20 minutes you hear the notification tone.

V.H.V: Absolutely. Perhaps meet for coffee? Thursday or Saturday?

You: Thursday. Crown Café, 10am, after the morning rush has cleared.

V.H.V: Agreed. See you then.

Working on your day off, as usual. You log onto the Museum’s Employee website to check your email, the top notification is from your supervisor telling you that you will take a few days for yourself. The success of the reopening is greatly due to your hard work and you will take the rest of the week off. See you Saturday.

Well, well, you may get some sleep after all. After a fitful night of restlessness and strange dreams you awaken Thursday morning feeling overtired. It would be in poor taste to cancel the meeting, so you get up, showered and dressed. You decide that since you are doing this basically for free for this man, you have no obligation to him and refuse to dress up. Wearing your hair in a messy pony tail, GMU sweatshirt and jeans you head to the coffee shop a bit early. Hopefully you can get a full cup into you and wake up before he arrives.

You order a coffee double shot and finish it quickly. Bathroom, order new regular coffee, take a seat and it’s 9:50am. In the corner of your eye you see him walking past the café’s front window. This makes you smile, but you are not certain why.

He takes his seat across from you at 9:59am.

“Good morning” you greet him casually.

“Same to you.” He says, placing his phone face down on the table. He wears a long sleeve black turtleneck, fine dress pants, and black gloves.

“Please tell me what history you know of the handkerchief.” You request.

“Skipping pleasantries, straight to business, eh?” His lip curls at the edge of his mouth on the right side. “See if I pick you up off the floor the next time you faint.”

You roll your eyes.

He clears his throat. “There are several items that have been kept within the family. I do not understand the meaning behind them, why they are kept in separate or specific locations within the family residence or what significance they mean to particular members of the family. My family history appears to go through highs and lows, the most recent low is turning around, getting back toward recovery.” He pauses, enjoying his coffee for a moment. “My mother recently passed and I am now in possession of the family estate. I have not had much time to go through the property, my work is my priority. I have no intention of living there and have considered selling it. There are few things I plan on keeping for myself, the rest may go to the museum should you be able to find a use for them. I noticed at the exhibition there were some unusual items on display that I do not normally recall seeing in museum exhibitions.”

Quaffing your coffee, you take a breath. “I am sorry for your loss. The museum is changing its thought process. People are more interested in seeing the everyday life of those from history. The differences are always blown out of proportion, romanticized, too large to be true. The current exhibition is displaying the things of everyday life, to show these were not only persons held in high regard, but also humans with human needs, feelings, emotions. I agree with some of this, however there are personal items that I question if they would really want to have displayed.”

Mr. Vestraegir thinks on these last remarks, savoring the remainder of his caffeinated beverage. “Why are you concerned about the feelings of the dead? It is not as if they can come to you and complain.”

“Let us say this afternoon you are struck dead by lightning. The funeral is held in three days. Open casket. You are dressed in a white tuxedo, no gloves upon your hands. How would you feel about that?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Preposterous!” He blurts out. “I would insist on having gloves on and I have an ample amount of perfectly adequate black dress suits.”

“Why should be concerned with the feelings of the dead again? Why is it that you wear gloves? The weather is certainly warm enough they are not needed. You are extremely familiar with wearing them.”

“Hmm.” He nods in understanding, rubbing one gloved hand upon the other.

“You do have me intrigued. It is difficult to find pieces of history still standing today. It has been hundreds of years.” You wonder aloud.

“The original structure has been incorporated into the current structure. At one point walking through a corridor it feels as if you are stepping backward in time. Quite an unusual feeling.”

“When do you plan on returning there next?” You ask, thinking of your full calendar.

“In the next day or so. I want to go through some things personally prior to the movers bringing the more recently purchased furniture here.”

“I would like to accompany you to the estate. If you like, I can drive us there this afternoon. I need only to pack an overnight bag and a few items for research. My guess is you do not have internet there?”

“No.” He answers. You would have to use your phone. Not all of the house has electric, so you may wish to bring some flashlights or long extension cords as well.

Fantastic, less disturbance to the original structure you ponder. “I can pick you up in an hour if that suits you?”

He nods and it is a blur from there. Rushing home, packing, picking him up at the duplex at the address he provides. Stashing his items in the trunk you are headed to the highway.

Vincent as he prefers to be called, tells you what information he knows of the Vestra Estate. He had lived there for the first years of his youth. He and his father did not get along well and mother abided by fathers wishes. By the time he turns 12 he is sent to boarding school, graduating straight into college. Finishing his degree in law minor in accounting, he is an atty and CPA/Accountant.

There may be a few books at the property that have a bit of history in them, he’s never had much interest.

A brief stop at the store close to the house, you purchase groceries. Simple premade sandwiches, a few frozen dinners, drinks and snacks. As you wait in the car you suddenly realize you have driven far from the city with a perfect stranger, not even leaving a trail of where you are or who you are with. The perfect setting for a murder. How stupid! You quickly drop an email to your landlord, advising of your destination and how long you expect to be gone. You hesitate and do not leave Vincent’s name, that would only lead to more questions from her as she is determined to set you up with a nice bachelor.

Another 30 minutes and your car is pulling into the long driveway, the large house comes into view. He unlocks the door to show you in. He really doesn’t know much of the history of the place, it had never interested him. The two of you unload the car and he has you place your things in his mother’s old bedroom, located in a newer section of the house that has electric and running water. He goes back to the kitchen to work on groceries.

Beds are so personal. You take a breath and complete the touch. Trying to keep your mind focused on the edge of your vision. Fortunately, it is a newer bed and does not take long to complete. You will be fine sleeping here.

Vincent invites you to the more modern kitchen and the location of the food, coffee, and sundried items. He has a few things to attend to, leaving you free rein of the house to explore. He will get to specifics later tonight or in the morning.

He is absolutely correct about the corridor, they had built on to the house in multiple stages. You enter through the most recent and modern additions. The corridor seems to reach back further and further.

You slowly walk down the walls touching each section. Perceiving people passing through the corridors fill your vision, styles of clothing changing as you progress. You touch the doorframe of a small bedroom in an older portion of the house. The faces of the occupants quickly parade before you. You will the flow to slow, a young girl clings to a doll, nodding with tears in her eyes. Then the next owner, a young male perhaps ten years old with hair to his shoulders, citrine eyes. His brows are furrowed, and he is shouting, but you cannot hear what he says, anger written all over his face, his brows furrow deeply as if he argues with someone just behind you. The door appears as he is slamming it shut. Was that Hubert? Could this have been his room, you wonder. The room is decorated with old wallpaper with a feminine print. The coat of dust on the few furnishings reveals that the room has not been used or tended to for many, many years. The curtains on the window are of a thin lace, possibly being held together by the spider webs covering them, the bottom inches shredded threads.

The mantel of the fireplace and baseboards are the only pieces painted. The rest is left to the beauty of the original wood and bricks. Running your hands over the bricks at the edge of the fire box you see countless hands stacking wood, lighting the kindling, flames beginning to burn bright in the small firebox. Finally, you see older gloved hands, incredibly long fingers waving as fire bursts from their fingertips into the kindling. There are gaps until much younger but long spindly fingers cast magic into the wood creating flames.

Touching the firebricks making up the fireplace you reach out to the bottom bricks. On the right, the furthest one back is loose. A bit of maneuvering and you pull the block from its wedged in position. Three bottles lie on their sides. Without thinking you reach in to grab them. Hubert’s face comes into view, laughing with the bottles in hand. These are definitely his poison bottles, contents long dried. His handwriting on the side, coded of course, one is foxglove, the next mandrake and last is nightshade. A small paintbrush is also in the hollowed space. Removing the item provides visions of blades and darts being painted, and then the interior of a teacup.

Diabolical bastard. You admire him and hate him both at the same time. The Empire would not have won the war without him, however you did not need to firsthand witness his secrets. Sitting on the floor you catch your breath. The daylight is fading and you need to go back to your bag and set up lights and a flash light.

The room is different in the too bright halogen light. Rubber gloves in your pockets, in case something more lethal is found are at the ready. You begin touching the floorboards with your bare feet. You will notice if any has a special significance of course. Only after moving the bed and the rug that is beneath it do you find something. (the bed is approximately 300 years old, mostly for children, same with the rug.) A pocketknife blade at a corner edge and the board lifts quite easily. Several items are stashed between the supports for the floor. Gloves on and flashlight in hand you reach in and remove the items, placing them in a large clear plastic bag. You replace the floorboard and return the bed and rug to its normal position.

“Keeping yourself entertained?” Victor chuckles as he enters the room.

“Found a few things. Haven’t had a chance to look them over yet.” You say as you take the halogen lamp to the next room to inspect.

“I can make it easy for you as far as what few things I know.” He offers. “You’ve already been under the floorboard there. Next the master bedroom.” He turns that direction and you follow him with the light, dragging the extension cord behind you. He steps until he hears a hollow spot at a floorboard by the head of the bed, taking out his pocket knife, he lifts the board out of place, then steps back for you to see.

Bringing the flashlight you see a jacknife and several gold coins. You pick them up with your gloves on and place them into a separate plastic bag.

“That is all I know. I found the floorboard when I was much younger, so of course I had to stomp on every floorboard after that listening for hollow sounds.” He grins.

“Quite logical, actually.” You nod. “As a boy I am surprised that you left them here.”

He coughs. “There were more coins, I did leave some.” He looks away, the tips of his ears turning pink.

You both decide to stop searching for the evening. You’ve not had dinner yet and tomorrow is another day. Besides, you want to investigate the floorboard items further as well as show him the items found behind the fireplace.

Dinner is quickly tossed into a microwave, coffee brewed and laptops pulled out onto the kitchen table, connected to the internet via the cell phones. Both of you sit quietly, only forks scraping plates or fingers tapping on keyboards for an hour.

Closing your laptop, you place a soft towel on top and the first bag with the items from the fireplace. Wearing a glove on your right hand you take each item out of the bag, placing them on the towel.

“There were owned and handled by Hubert. I believe them to be bottles of his own poison. The brush is used to paint it upon his weapons, mostly daggers.” You relay to your tablemate.

Vincent’s eyes go wide. “You’ve just seen them. How can you swear to their authenticity?”

“The appearance matches what you would find from the time. The writing on the bottles closely resembles his handwriting from the samples we have at the museum, and the code is correct for three different poison types. The brush appears to be animal hair that would be used at the time, stuffed into the end of a tube and then crimped to hold the hair tight.”

Taking a small box of plastic bags, you pack each item individually. As you reach for the third bottle it tips over and rolls off of your laptop. You grab it with your left hand and read its history. Your eyes focus as Vincent’s fingers are snapping in your face.

“Come on, are you all right?” He questions.

“Um, yes.” You shake your head a bit, placing the item in a bag and back into the larger bag with the other items.

“Are you epileptic? You spaced out there. Please let me know if you have health issues.” Vincent pleads, the concern is heavy in his voice.

“It…it’s hard to explain.” You want to tell him something. You’re never this open with people, but he makes you feel like it is okay to let him know.

“Go on.” He says waiting patiently.

“I can see some things related to a history of an item just by touching it. I see who used it, how long ago it was when used. Yes. I must be crazy.” You nod quickly after your confession.

“I want to see it work.” He frowns, two wrinkles between his eyebrows get deeper. He stands and goes to a drawer, pulling out a large spoon and a knife. Both appear to be silver, one more tarnished and scraped that the other. He places them on the laptop.

You grab the spoon. You see his mother’s hand stirring long yellow beans in a pot before pouring a creamy sauce onto them, then it changes to different people, an older stove, another older stove. A black ceramic stove stirring gravy in a large heavy skillet.

“Your mother liked to use it for cooking yellow beans. It has been here for several hundred years, at least 300 based on the dress of the last man who had a beard was dressed.”

He looks down at the table and thinks a moment. “She loved wax beans. They look like green beans but taste a bit different. She would cook them in a sour and creamy sauce. She said the spoon was in the family for a long time. Now the knife.”

Taking the silver knife in your fingers it shows she used it nearly every day to put butter on rolls with jelly. There was a lot of time in the drawer, different users. Clothing styles changed. The age of the silver butterknife is closer to 450 or 500 years old.

You share your findings.

“I’m still not convinced.” Vincent reaches into his shirt, and pulls out a gold necklace with a ring hanging from it. A simple gold band with its necklace is placed with hesitation on the laptop. As he places it there your hand brushes against his glove.

“Your gloves are four months old, purchased at Baers and the saleslady had red hair. Just saying.” You clear your throat and take a sip of now too cold coffee.

Reaching for the ring your fingers touch it softly. Your mind is filled with its memories. He has it with him all the time, takes it off for nothing, then you see the crash, blood everywhere. You fall headfirst into the table. Vincent helps you sit back up in your seat as tears are streaming from your face.

“I…I am so sorry for your loss.” You choke and gasp as the tears fall from your eyes. “M-motorcycle crash. Five years ago. He would bring you little yellow flowers he picked from the side of the road.”

Vincent’s face lost all color. A tear fell to his cheek as he nodded. He took the necklace back and put it around his neck.

After a while he took the cups to the sink, “I think it is time to sleep.”

You nod and head to bed. For hours you lay there, unable to sleep as your mind plays back the last nine years of Vincent and his husband’s lives, together and apart. You should have refused to touch it, but you wanted him to believe. And now…now. You shake your head, turn over and stare at the wall again.

The alarm on your phone wakes you. You want to flee, leave this place. It is one thing when someone shares with you tragedies in the past, it is another to have them thrust upon you. You push yourself out of bed. You can make it through today. Once in the kitchen the coffee has just finished you reach to grab a cup. Seeing the two in the dish drainer, you carefully pick out the cup you used yesterday.

You find a note on the table that he has gone for a walk and to go through the boxes he has left in the living room. Grabbing a muffin from the counter you head to the boxes. Wearing glove you begin. A few interesting books, certainly a possibility to go into a collection, many of them simply too modern or of no interest to the museum in their current condition. A box of random items haphazardly placed into a wooden box. Some woodworking tools, chisels, a pocket watch that did not work but was several hundred years old. A coffee grinder, you would definitely need to check that out. Taking that and the watch you sit at the kitchen table. One by one you experience the history of the items. The pocket watch came from approximately 1300. The coins from the floor and jack knife were owned by Hubert’s father, Marquis Vestra. The coffee grinder, broken by a child, had belonged to Hubert at one time well after the war, during his retirement.

The bags from the child’s bedroom revealed two very different groups of items. Vincent himself had placed items in a pocket next to the ones he had originally discovered. Thinking they were a time capsule, he created one of his own including a letter about his 9 year old self, a green plastic army man named Lt. Schwartz, a yo yo and a few baseball cards. The other group of items were from a young girl. A cloth doll with a few wisps of hair still left on its head. A tiny gold ring. A slate and stylus used for writing letters and numbers, the wax long eaten away. A small carved wooden horse.

Deciding to see if there is anything in the last room as well as completing your inspection of the master bedroom, you take your half cup of coffee with you down the hallway. Coming to the end of the corridor, you hear a sound behind you. Turning slowly, you see the countenance of Hubert von Vestra walking toward you. Outfitted in his full Imperial dress uniform, his large stiff collar extends several inches up from his shoulders. A ruby red brooch holds down his cravat. You drown in the sound of leather creaking from his belts on his clothes and the swish of the heavy material of his jacket. His boots create a deep a thunking sound echoing down the hallway.

“Finally.” He says with great satisfaction. “It has been an eternity.” His right hand, void of gloves, reaches out to you, fingertips softly stroking your cheek. His pale skin is cool to the touch, it has always been that way, you think to yourself. He opens his arms welcoming you to be wrapped within them. Burying your nose in his chest you deeply inhale the familiar scent of coffee, parchment, ink and dark magic. How you have longed for this.

“What of Vincent?” you ask him, looking up into his beautiful yellow-green eyes sparkling down at you.

“We have come to an agreement.” Hubert chuckles.

The vibration of his chest, his deep laughter sends chills down your spine. After waiting nearly a thousand years to have him back in your arms the reward is so worth it.

Epilogue:

Each lifetime you searched for him, but your journeys were fruitless. This girl was the most cooperative, the most willing. You found her worse than Bernadetta in some aspects of her life, especially social. She shared this body, watching from behind, creating stories in her mind. You take control and immediately begin your plan. The museum holds his property, perhaps by touching these items you can call to him. Send a signal that you are here. But they would not let you touch the things that belonged to him. The display items you could reach, touch, were not his, only beautiful recreations. Even items held in storage at the museum were not his. You had developed a spell to obtain the history of an item by touch.

It was awful that you had to burn down part of the museum, but you needed access and you needed legitimate items. What people wouldn’t do to have their name on a placard as a donor. From the items donated several very real items were found. You found yourself touching them frequently, just to catch another glimpse of him. Your cohabitant could not take the violence, she caused you to faint so frequently. Perhaps now she may finalize her agreement with you, being released and then you and Hubert can finally have the lifetime together that was stolen from you during that horrible war.

You spoke often of death, war does that. Both agreed to move on and live the best life they could. Finding out Ferdinand was at his side made you happy, especially since it made him happy. Still, he had promised that no matter what, he would find you again and finish what was started. And so the rest of your lives begins…

#fe3h #fe16 #feth #fe3h x reader #fe16 hubert von vestra #fe3h fanfic #fire emblem three houses #hubert von vestra

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ask-the-sharps · 4 years

Text

Alright, ill be real dudes. I really could use some money. Didn’t think id ever make one of these posts.

Details Under Cut but TLDR; I need a new laptop!!

I've been using a laptop for a long time that has had a lot of problems. Some of them being,, my own fault. But she served me well these past like,, 6-7 years now. The last 3 being entirely on her last legs and the past few months doing even worse. And now, its completely unresponsive to me.. I need a new one.

What's wrong with it?

-She's had liquid spilled on her, which lead to the battery expanding and oozing out all its nasty acid.. and that corroded the hard drive. and probably much more given how the inside looks -The replacement hard drive i put into it is the wrong size (both physical size and in storage size) and already had issues to start, and its now failed. -The keyboard doesn't function near at all, and the touch pad none. -And, now I’m pretty sure the Motherboard or the PCU has failed on me.

While I could take it in, that would cost more than getting a new one. Speaking of costs, The laptop I'm intending to get is about 930$ + shipping/tax.

Why I need a new laptop:

-I use it to call my fiance every single day.

-I have severe back problems and cant sit at a desk for too long

-I travel between houses often and need something to bring with me.

-Ill be getting top surgery soon and both A) can't really afford to save for this too, and B) will be out of state for recovery for a little while

-A r t. Art is also part of the reason for some of the above points.

But why is the one you’re planning on so expensive? Good question and I totally understand!

-It's been found pretty universally that more expensive laptops are better built, longer lasting, faster, and perform better.

-I also need a laptop that can handle being a bit of a workhorse. Laptops I’ve owned in the past couldn’t handle me running Clip Studio, Skype, YouTube, Discord, Spotify, etc all at once.

-Something with a good WLED screen is necessary for art purposes, and decent graphics for similar reasons.

-I’ve had nothin’ but pretty cheap laptops all my life and I’ve always had some issue with them. Id like to put on big man pants and get something nicer.

-In the long run, it’ll be cheaper to get a more expensive one, so that in the next few years i don’t have to do somethin’ like this again

I’ve done a lot of looking and this one seems like the best for my personal needs.

Here’s how you can help:

Link to commissions here!

You can also DM me to ask for my PayPal to just donate.

If you are unable to help me out, re-blogging and sharing this around is also welcome.

Please Please don’t donate or buy anything if you need that money for yourself. Thank you all very much in advance.

#Ooc #Mun stuff #please reblog!#thanks in advance!#going to rb again tmrw

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argumentl · 4 years

Text

The Freedom of Expression Ep 8 - About Sawajiri Erika's early comeback. (*Treatment of drug addicts*)

K: Hi, This is Dir en grey's Kaoru. Joe san, Tasai san, once again.

J, T: Please. Thank you very much.

Kami: Me too.

J: Oh, kami too, right?

K: Unlike on the radio show, he's always around now, isnt he? There were times when he wasn't around before.

J: I think he descended to us about once a month on the radio show.

T: *laughs*

K: In that show, he just flitted in sometimes, and that was it.

J: Yes, yes, yes.

K: Now he's everywhere.

J: He's a regular commentator now.

K: *laughs*

T: This time we have some news from Tokyo Sports.

J: Ah! From the celebrity world

T: Lets start.... Do you know the Japanese comedy duo 'Nihon Elekitel Rengo', famous for the 'Dameyo, damedame' sketch?

J: I didn't, but I learned about them from Tokyo Sports.

T: What about you, Kaoru?

K: I know them.

T: They are a female duo, but one of them, Nakano san, got married to an older man working at the same agency, but it was a marriage with zero prior social interaction.

J: What does that mean? They got married on the same day they met?

T: Well, she was approched by the man, Matsuo Atom san, but she continuously turned him down. Then she suddenly decided last year to marry him. So, its kinda being debated online whether it is or it isn't *1. I really want to ask them.

J: Ahh, surely it is.

K: You can't say it isn't.

J: You can't.. But if you think its isn't...what isn't?!

T: People who think that it isn't, say that because they've never dated, they don't know each other well, and they might divorce quickly.

K: Oh, thats about afterwards.

T: Some concern was raised about that.

J: But I dated my wife for twenty years before marriage, and ended up getting divorced after two years. So just because you've been together for a while, it doesn't mean you won't get divorced.

T: Ahh, I see.

J: This type of thing can't be helped.

K: But thats normal, dating for a long time, getting married, and then ending up separating. It happens to a lot of people, right?

J: Yes.

T: But this Nakano san says, they've never held hands, they don't know each other's address, they don't live together..

J: But they got married?

T: Yes

K: The possibility of them separating seems high, but...

J: Right?

T: Yeah

K:..but, they can do what they want.

J: Yes, i think so. It sounds weird, but this also works as publicity.

T: Yeah

J: Almost like a risky stunt. Personally, I think its possible. But if one of them had the idea, and the other agreed to it, isnt it something to be thankful for?

T: Yeah, but apparently thier boss was really worried about it, he said they should have told him first. He booked a hotel suit room and shoved the two of them in there, but apparently nothing ended up happening.

J: Nothing happened?! People hearing this will want to know if they love each other.

Kami: I want to meet thier boss.

J: Oh, that? *laughs* A suite room is expensive right?

Kami: Yeh, I want to stay in a suite room.

*everyone laughs*

K: What would you do if you did stay in one?

Kami: If I did? Hmm, use the internet.

*laughing*

J: You can do that anyway! What about something more extravagant?

K: Like ordering room service or something.

Kami: I would order room service.

K: What would you order?

J: What would you eat, Kami?

Kami: Ramen

*laughing*

J: I don't think there are many people who would order ramen in a suite room.

K: It might actually be good though. Eating that kind of common food in that kind of place.

J: Eating something...

K: and just looking at the internet.

J: Just looking at the internet *laughs*

K: Its luxurious, right?

J: Exactly. Isn't it wasting the suite though?

T: Okay, lets look at another story. Its this story, it caused quite a stir. Sawajiri Erika...she was found to be in possession of drugs and had her first court appearance at the end of January. The entertainment world is in uproar concerning her early comeback, should she, shouldn't she?

Kami: She should.

J: I think so too.

T: Why? I'll ask you first, Joe.

J: Well, this is her first crime, so she probably won't get a prison sentence. I think it will be a suspended sentence. So, the idea behind a suspended sentence is to give you preparation time to get back to your normal life. Its important get back to your original life as much as possible.

T: I see

J: So, with a suspended sentence she will lose all of her tv sponsers and stuff, but its important for her to gain a platform back, for example, online or such. Now, if we talk about the situation in America, drug addicts are seen as ill people, not criminals, so they embark on a process of revovery, in order to quickly return to regular life. There's a feeling of, 'you're ill, so lets get you better'. Its felt that the worst thing to do, is to be alone with it. Leaving people in these situations is seen as bad. Getting people re-immersed in the community, and returned to normality as much as possible through social interaction, is how America deals with this. As to why America does this, its mainly cost, it costs money to treat people. They want to get people back out into the world quickly. Unlike the idea of severe punishments in Japan, America generally thinks in that way. My own view is very similar to that... We'll have to wait for the verdict. If she gets prison, theres nothing to be done, but if she gets a suspended sentence, she should try to return to her normal life as much as possible. On the other hand, once you've used drugs, you must be able to continue in a clean state, so you must also have the support around you to be able to stay clean.

T: I see, I see.

J: I think thats important.

T: Kami, what are your thoughts?

Kami: The same as Joe. There were no victims.

J: Yes, thats right. No one else was hurt by this.

T: An opposing opinion might be that, as a tv star, she might have a bad influence on young people. What would you say to that?

J: In that case,..well, i don't watch tv much, so I don't really know, but there are loads of scenes of people injecting stuff on talk shows or such, aren't there? Thats got to be more of a bad influence. I think people need to consider that more. Just because she appears on tv, it doesn't mean people are gonna start doing drugs.

K: Yeh, she isn't gonna do drugs on screen.

J: Yeah, rather, those scenes of syringes and stuff..

K: Yeh, the stuff on talk shows is more of a bad influence.

J: I think so.

T: So, in connection with this, what do you think about stopping the screening of movies etc which the person has starred in, which tends to happen at lot in the entertainment world..Joe san?

J: I can only describe it as nonsense. In the music world, it would be the withdrawal of records..., there is no meaning to it. Its totally separate from what they are expressing. As for music, no one ever talks about The Beatles' or The Rolling Stones' drug use. Thats a totally different issue...In relation to drugs, I think eradicating them is important, so for example, we could have a portion of that artist's sales being donated to organisations like DARC (Drug Addiction Rehabilitation Center) in Japan, for example, which would be a good way to use them. I can't see any merit in just withdrawing thier works. If an artist returns to thier life, but is unable to be musically active, well, Tashio san is a good example of this *2, the places they can exist disappear gradually, and they become isolated. This is really sad. There's a possibility that leaving people in that isolated state can have a further negative influence, so there is no point in limiting the places people can work, or withdrawing thier works. I think Japan's management of this issue is problematic. In America, they don't arrest people for using drugs, they arrest the buyers and such, and thats what makes the news. But in Japan, you can see who's using drugs just by checking your phone. In particluar, famous people who use drugs are made into targets, to scare people, and to show how much your life will be ruined if you use drugs. It seems like its a kind of boosting of the zero tolerance policy which the Ministry of Health and Welfare introduced in the 1990s. It seems like that to me anyway.

Kami: Couldn't they make some kind of isolated place available, where its ok to do drugs?

T: Thats new.

J: Another novel idea from Kami.

K: Well, but yeah.

Kami: Because people who like drugs, will just like them.

J: I think so.

Kami: Yeh, so if you do that...because there are people who feel happier after taking medicine right?

J, T: Yeh.

Kami: Couldn't those type of people go to some place and be allowed to do it?

K: Without any crime occurring, right?

J: Right

T: Yeh, thats it.

Kami: No crime.

J: Well, i don't know if this is the appropriate way to express this, but in the case of drug dependence, its clear that the number one drug which causes mental and physical dependence is alcohol, rather than 'drugs'. You won't get arrested for alchol dependence, and the reason for that is because alcohol is legal. But incidents or fatal accidents cause by alcohol are ceaseless. There are a few incidents annually where someone murders after using drugs but, for example, as for people at the station falling onto to train lines, sixty percent of those are drunk, and many more people are killed by drunk drivers than drug addicts.

K: Well, its because there are many more people who drink alcohol.

J: Yes, the proportion is bigger. So if you consider these incidents in this way, they are certainly happening. In relation to drugs, there isn't really any logical explanation for them being illegal, but they are still strictly controled. Its a bit strange, but in America...well, it might be strange to always talk only about America, but the ban on cannabis, or medical cannabis has been lifted in America. In Japan, we have a situation where we can't even discuss such a thing, so I feel like it may be a bit of Galapagos syndrome....What do you think, Tasai san, about (Sawajiri's return)?

T: Well, she won't be able to eat, if she can't do tv work. From the viewers perspective, as long as its done appropriately..

K: Don't you need sponsers for tv though? So its not something she can really decide herself. But..on the stage or theater, if there are people who want to see her, I don't think it should be a problem.

T: Yeah

K: If there are people who say they don't want to see her on the airwaves, well, they are going to say that.

J: What do you think about her comeback, Kaoru?

K: Its completey fine to do it. Well, I mean she was doing a bad thing, but she has to carry on living. She could also find a different job, thats fine too. As for returning to the entertainment world, well, i dont really know, but she should return to some kind of work as soon as she can.

J: Yes, thats it...It might be difficult in the entertainment world.

T: Right..Especially with sponsers.

Kami: Isn't that ok though?

K: Yeah, they'll use who they want.

Kami: Its only whether the sponser will use her or not, right? On tv?

J: On tv, yes.

Kami: If they have a reason to use her, they will.

J: But as Kaoru said, she might have more freedom on the stage or something. There must be something that only she can do, so it seems at waste to just kill off her talent.

Kami: If she herself decides to lay low for a while and self reflect on what she did, thats ok too. No one needs to tell her to. Now, i mention it, its the same with alcohol. If you drink too much and end up being late, you can self reflect and show remorse. If it was me i would deduct it from thier salary though.

J: *laughs* How fresh.

Kami: Its just a problem of whether or not they self reflect on it.

T: I see

K: Well, it depends on the circumstances of the person.

Kami: Yeh, in the end. Of course, drugs, but alcohol and cigarettes etc are all bad too, right? I really want to emphasise that. But at the same time, there are people who like them, who will use them anyway. As a result they will be punished by the law, and that will be enough. I think that should be a salary deduction, and then be finished with it. But your boss or someone might be mad at you *3

T: I see

J: Its like, I've had a deduction, so forget about it already.

T: So, that was Tokyo Sports' news.

J: Ahh, Oh! I wanted to ask you, who is it? Celebrity 'X', who is about to be arrested?

K: *laughs*

T: We'll put the news out to the whole world, so..

J: You'll find this if you search for Tokyo sports news, 'X'.

T: Oh, i can't tell you.

J: You can't? Damn

K: Kami might know.

J: He might.

K: But he's only a god for us three.

J:Yeh

K: Maybe he doesn't know.

J: He's not a worldly god.

Kami: I know who it is.

J: Oh, you know?

Kami: I know.

J: Kami, who is it?

T: Joe, don't ask that!

J, K: *laugh*

T: It'll be announced to the world...my account will be banned.

K: We need people to subscribe, right.

J: Yes yes yes yes.

K: Thank you very much, see you next time. Thank you.

J, T: Thank you

*1 It is or it isn't/they are or they aren't, or that type of thing.

*2 No idea who this is.

*3 Not 100% about what he means here.

#dir en grey #the freedom of expression #kaoru #薫 #tfoe

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annazverina · 4 years

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2020 Letter to the World

In 2015, I began writing annual Letters to the World to reflect on what I learned during the year. I shared my first one publicly in 2018, and since then I discuss certain topics that were relevant during the year and what they taught me. Enjoy.

***

I typically don’t start writing my annual Letter to the World until October or November at the earliest, but this year has already been a huge whirlwind for the entire world. I started writing this in April and edited it until the day it was posted. At that point, we had been in isolation for a month. A few weeks later, yet another revolution sparked within the United States. As soon as the riots and protests started, I knew this would be the hardest letter I’ve ever written.

This year I will discuss coronavirus, racism, social media, and the importance of face to face communication.

Around the time I finished writing last year’s letter, a new illness was taking over Wuhan, China. This new, mysterious strain of coronavirus was infecting people left and right. But like any other American, I didn’t worry about it, though I kept track of it on Twitter. I remember the time when there were only 600 cases, and it hadn’t spread outside of Wuhan yet. Man, those were the days. It’s amazing how much the world changed within a month, a week, and a few days.

A month before isolation, my friends and I drove down to San Antonio for the TMEA convention. Tens of thousands of music educators in the same building. At that same time, San Antonio had its first cases of COVID-19. Less than a month later, SXSW was cancelled. That’s when I realized that this was becoming a big deal. The same day the WHO declared the pandemic, my university announced it was moving to online instruction for what would eventually be the rest 2020. My first day of quarantine was 14 March. I began vlogging occasionally to document the experience.

I barely left the house during quarantine. For the first five months, the only reasons I left were to go walking, move out of the dorm, or to pick up food. My family took a trip to Colorado right before I left for school, which was our first time eating at a restaurant in 150 days. None of my family or our friends officially tested positive. At school, my roommate did, which led to a two week isolation for me. It really bothered me that those who could stay home weren’t. I get that the United States was founded with freedom in mind (even though we’re not free yet), but I don’t understand why people weren’t willing to give up a little bit of freedom and wear a piece of cloth on their face. Sometimes, you have to give up freedom for the sake of the big picture. I learned that many Americans don’t understand that. The United States shut down too late and reopened too early. Those above us care too much about money. The economy is important, but so are people. Human lives matter, including Black lives.

We all know what happened.

Every January in elementary school, we learned about the Civil Rights Movement. However, they did not mention that racism was still an ongoing problem. They implied that it was a thing of the past. God, I wish it was. I don’t think it ever will be, but the things we can do to eliminate it as much as possible are promoting anti-racism and teaching those who come after us that no matter where someone comes from, they can’t form any opinions about them until they know what’s in their heart.

That entire week after the murder was very overwhelming. It made me wonder what kind of families racist people grew up in to think that it’s okay to not be good to everyone. I live my life with one thing in mind all the time: be good to myself and others. And I think everyone else, regardless of socioeconomic background, race, religion, whatever, should do the same. And we must teach those who come after to follow those footsteps.

There was never a class in school dedicated to being good citizens. They just yelled at the students doing bad things to stop, but never explained why it was bad, nor did they tell them how to be better. Common human decency is something that should be taught K-12, and I honestly think it’s more important than STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math). We cannot force the students to rely on their parents for something like this, because some parents are uneducated, some are not good people, some suck at parenting, and way too many children in the world don’t even have parents. Schools are the ones that need to teach kids how to be good… all the way through.

WE MUST BE THE CHANGE. Those currently in power appear to not be doing anything, so those who want change must RISE UP. For us civilians, signing petitions and donating is great, and being good, like I mentioned above, is also something we should do. We must change our behavior for the better. We cannot rely on other people to do stuff for us. We must do it ourselves. Change is not a process that can happen over night. So far it’s taken decades/centuries of work, but someday we will be there. Even if we don’t live to see it, the work we do now will help our future descendants.

After George Floyd’s murder and the explosion of social media, I was super overwhelmed with everything I was reading. I decided to take the month of June off of Twitter, and man, I’m glad I did. Social media in general is a toxic place to be, and cutting out Twitter and Facebook was healthy for me. In terms of toxicity, Twitter and Facebook, in my opinion, are the worst platforms. On Twitter, it’s hard to control what you see in your feed. Most of the tweets in my feed are from people I don’t follow. They’re tweets I never signed up to see, and they flood my feed with posts that sometimes feel like propaganda. Sometimes I feel like celebrities are worshipped like a deity. I often feel like I’m not allowed to have my own personal beliefs on Twitter, rather I have to conform to what the loudmouthed users believe. If I don’t, I’m racist, misogynistic, homophobic, etc. Facebook is similar, but most of the people I follow are my friends or family, so I can’t unfollow them.

Surprisingly, I like Instagram. Reposting is very uncommon, and posting more than once a day is unofficially considered spam, therefore people have to put all their politics into one single post, which I can scroll past and never see again. You never see posts from people you don’t follow, (except for the occasional advert) and overall I think people use it mostly to share photos of their lives. Most of the flaws that come from Instagram are the people who use it, but it’s easy to avoid them.

My brother shared some statistics with me recently. Only about 10 percent of Twitter users tweet on a normal basis. About 40 percent of people in the United States have a Twitter account. With that in mind, theoretically, the loud mouthed Twitter users only make up about 4 percent of the U.S. population. Or… something like that. I don’t know how accurate these statistics are, nor do I know where my brother got them from. Regardless, social media does not represent everyone in the world. Not even close.

The nice thing about living in a world of social media is being able to keep in touch with friends and family while quarantined. This whole quarantine process made me ever so grateful for face to face meetings. Some people believe no one will ever want to work again once everything ends. That’s not true. I think most people like working. Being able to leave the house every day and do something, even if it’s something you don’t like, is what keeps us sane. When it came time to return to school, I was initially really mad due to COVID. I ended up being okay with it. My school did a fantastic job at keeping COVID cases down for the entire semester (we only had an average of 20 cases a week, compared to some schools who had hundreds). Not only that, but I was able to see my family away from home again. Even though we wore masks and social distanced most of the time, things felt somewhat normal.

If you are the kind of person who could care less if you see your friends and coworkers in person, don’t forget that most people don’t feel that way. It’s hard to have group conversations on Zoom. You certainly can’t have a party where multiple conversations happen. Don’t assume everyone feels the same way about something. Let people have their social gatherings when it’s acceptable again, and don’t belittle people who feel different from you.

Everyone must do the right thing… all the time. Even when no one is watching. It’s our job to develop the habit of being good to ourselves and to others regardless. If we do that, we’ll be able to go back to a normal-ish life sooner. Lin-Manuel Miranda called America a “great unfinished symphony” in Hamilton. America, you great unfinished symphony, we still have unfinished business to take care of. The change we need won’t come tomorrow. The amount of work we have before we reach the double bar line will take generations to get to. We cannot allow a repeat sign. We must start today. May 2021 be a year of healing.

#2020 #just reflecting #reflections #fandom #lams #destiel #phan #johnlock #important #healing #beautiful #covid #fuck covid #blacklivesmatter #acceptance #respect #quarantine #zoom #2021

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genius11rare · 4 years

Text

Chit Chat 111620 11-16-20

Chitchat 111620 with Jack Michael Jeremys Chair and the disembodied voice of alfredo (no he left after set up immediately , never heard him) id put “keep reading” if i knew how for this sorry

Jack: hi im jack with my friends michael and Spearow the dragon (jeremys not here , theres a spyro … pillow i think on his chair).. So we made the mistake of doing 2 minecrafts backtoback and it ended like 20 minutes ago then like “oh yeah we have other stuff we need to set up before”… Michael: yeah this isnt so much a chitchat it is just a chit not really time for a chat. Jack: how about we chit about recapping extralife? It went really well thank you everyone who watched and contributed, trying to get chat up right now…. Cuz we got Chit trying to get the Chat as well… this is the 4th year in a row we raised over 1 million$ , and were having some auctions for charity. Up for auction: 3D printed gen lock heads , pictures of the Spooky Hour (Gen Notes i thought they were done with that?) , the jon risinger bob ross segment painting , some f*face hats , some wood and glass sculptures (jeremy comes back during around this) … and gratz to jeremy for urinating and coming back *on time* Jeremy: hey my bathroom is a few steps from here… that whole time was spent peeing Oooohhhh better. Jack: michael , jeremy got anything to say about whats happened recently. Michael: no uh…. Just recovering… Jeremy: oh that was hard to watch michael. Jack: oh i have this picture i posted on twitter of fiona milking gavin…. Spraying milk into his eyes , sounds weird when i phrase it like that see if i can post it. Fiona somehow got both eyes in one shot , none in the mouth (the goal) just eyes. If you don't know the context it looks like hes spraying milk from his head like some kind of anime demon… then the paintballs happened…. Usually with paintballs theyve been going a while and theyve calmed down , that time it was new compressors and we JUST started using them for michael and gavin (Michael: “they” as in the paintballs themselves , theyve calmed down) yeah so that time they still had a lot of OOMPF and it was like getting kicked in the head over and over. Michael: no that's good , kick me in the head all you want. I went second just so i could tell how bad it hurt , so i knew where to hit gavin to make it hurt the most… immediately flipped on it like “he doesnt deserve this” and shot the face (which hurt the least) as much to spare him… i did do a few tummy shots but still. Jack: the crotch was also a good spot cuz of the cockblocker… problem is if you missed they go left or right into your thigh Michael: the thigh and stomach hurt the most … our thighs are black Jeremy: were also doing the vinyl Jack: oh yeah we reached our goal and putting AH the musical on a vinyl , plus a new song with Fiona ive been working with her trying to get the tone and everything (Gen notes im gonna guess its there so Still in the Air isnt…) … Jeremy wanna say what you offered up? Jeremy: yeah were doing the AH rap version 2 (Gen notes either A. a version with the rest of “The B Team” to have verses , or B. redoing it without HIM) , been working on a beat for it … ive written one verse mine so far (Gen notes , think its option B then) but i feel like its a little TOO mean so i may dial it back down a bit … the plan is shorter verses but more people , so hopefully Myself , michael gavin , Jack , Fiona , the twins , Matt , Lindsay and MAYBE a verse where the support room jump in one bar at a time , still in the works. Jack: yeah you guys DEMOLISHED goals, chads daughter she is so sweet… she saved up chore money and wanted to donate it all of her own , she wasn't convinced to she just wanted to donate 20$ which just broke everyone - well chad and i , caiti held it together, so we asked the audience to match her 20$... over the course of 10 minutes that 20$ became 65000$... we broke extralife we legit broke their intake of donations. We also had 2 people there who if we needed to hand something to someone wed give it to them , theyd “baptize” it as covid precaution then give it to whoever. Michael: except cloth they were like “you touch cloth you own it” … was like i could walk away with a lot of things right here , this towel? This towels done (Jack: you just going around grabbing curtains) … (start paraphrasing) we always want extralife to be like the best show ever cuz its for a good cause , but then this year we were like “how would we even pull it off”... i don't think 2020 extralife couldve gone better given everything (end paraphrasing) “fave extralife 2020 moment” Jack: my thing… Chad James is a freaking beast and towards the end the last segment we did was called the sweet and sour hour where caiti would do something nice and chad would get punished … it ended up getting stacked so we started doing some at once. At one point Chad is on the pummelhorse which is an elastic band that hits you in the undercarriage , chelsea was there with a leg wax remover , then we had cody from code 4 which is our compliance officer with hand sanitizer. So Blaine pummelhorses chad , chelsea leg waxes him and then cody sprays him with the antiseptic (michael: in his eyes… Gen Notes i mean hes probably kidding but idk it seems possible) … chads on the pummelhorse weeping and Blaines ALREADY spinning the wheel. Michael: its funny , theres so much stuff that happened and not just the segments i was there for , but a simple delight getting chad to eat that whole pickle … he was just saying “i cant do it ill throw up” and i just kept repeating “youu can dooooo iit...”... gave me some enjoyment since i was there basically to get slapped around , but in between i made chad eat a pickle Jack: so jeremy you have a fave moment? I know you were there for the solo stream section - oh i forgot about DJ JAAWNK how could i that was a blast Jeremy: yeah i was listening to most of the solo streamer section , i know Kdin had a thing where she gathered a bunch of people to do among us and it was fun…. For a certain donation amount they would just launch john mace into space , theyd just call a meeting and get him… Matt joined me playing spyro and i had the Gold Chonky spyro mods on , and if people donated enough wed spin a wheel that me or him would have to do.. We had to spin it like 15 times , and alot of them were “have to hold the controller upsidedown” which is a monstrosity… and twice it was me put a blindfold on and matt would have to direct me through the level. I panicked A LOT cuz you could HEAR the enemies shooting at and coming at you but i didn't know where … it was like a live Matt and Jeremy do something - your welcome sarah! (Michael: you did do something… Spearow… Spearowmint gum) so first were doing SPiderman Miles Morales PS4 edition cuz i don't have a PS5! Everyones talking about how they're sold out so the most ive done was when i was shopping for ovens i was like “lemme peruse the playstation aisle” didn't see one and went guess im not getting one… Jack: are they even selling them in person or is it just online… Michael: i know game stop is selling them , they're sold out but i know they were selling them.... Think most stores waiting for black friday to get them in store… i want one but im not going to a store on black friday , ill play fall guys if i want to get trampled Jack: oh yeah someone mentioned the ChungeScwa heist is coming we reached that goal Michael: fiona said i could be there, i asked can i help and she said something like “plz help , cuz otherwise it wont happen.” ive also offered doing a 50 turn mario party even though it wasn't a goal cuz we didn't even do last years so now wed owe 2 for 2021 assuming we can make that happen. Jack: cant you do a 100 turn mario party is that a thing? Michael: no 50 is the most , ive contemplated maybe we combine them into one game and scores carry over but it might be upsetting if im ahead by 9 stars after 50 turns and then it just becomes a 4 hour victory lap so its probably better to do 2 of them… we were about to do one in april we were planning on shooting it in april but then SOMETHING came up idk what it was … it just kept coming up for 7 months… Jeremy: and they don't stop coming and they don't stop coming… oh if were going to show my PS4 screen lemme show how much a loser i am…. Jack: you got a platinum in bug snax?!?!? Jeremy: yuuuppppp!!!

#gen notes #for later #text #backed up #chit chat #AH #achievement hunter #jeremy dooley #ah jeremy #index #my post #november 2020 #idk what else to tag #keep reading #well would if could #chitchat

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dreamcatcherfication · 4 years

Text

Three’s a Crowd

I hope this fic isn’t absolute trash after the short break from writing I took. In the span of three days I completely forgot how to write and it shows.

But anyway, hello everyone! Anon requested Jane getting jealous because of Aragon being maternal towards Kat, and I loved that prompt. I’m not sure I did it justice, but we’re certainly trying. I really hope this fic is in any sense coherent. Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, I forgot how to write and my english is not good now.

And also - I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THIS BEHAVIOR! A lot of what happens in this fic includes toxic mindsets and sometimes toxic behavior, and I do not support that in any way. I wanted to do my best to represent how toxic mindsets can affect a person, and how hard it can be to get out of them. That’s why Jane might seem a little OOC, but I did my best to balance everything out.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Toxic behavior, toxic mindsets

Jane Seymour didn’t like being busy. Of course she liked to have things to do so she wasn’t wasting time, but being overburdened with work stressed her out far more than she liked. For the past week Jane had been overwhelmed with learning new choreography for the show, and the costume changes, as well as some of her lines being workshopped. It took all of her attention, and Jane started to notice how much less time she was spending with the queens.

There was one particular change in dynamics that Jane was starting to notice. Ever since the queens had grown comfortable with each other, Kat and Jane were almost always by each other’s side. It made sense, with Jane longing for someone to act maternal towards, and Kat lacking any strong maternal figure in her life. The two of them clicked, forming a bond that they both so desperately needed.

But now, Kat was hardly ever around Jane. She wasn’t avoiding Jane, that much was clear, but the teen always seemed busy with someone else. Namely, Catherine of Aragon. It irked Jane to see the two of them so happy together. Internally, she kept telling herself she held no ill will towards Catherine, but she couldn’t help the small seed of rage that festered in her heart every time she saw the two queens together.

Just yesterday, Jane had asked Kat if she wanted to read together. “Sorry Jane, I’m going to the movies with Aragon. She got us these great seats and it’s one of those new, high tech theatres. She’s so cool,” Kat had gushed on.

Jane had to keep repeating that Aragon wasn’t being mean and was perfectly capable and welcome to spend time with Kat. However, in the back of Jane’s mind, she kept thinking Catherine unfit to spend time with Kat. “It’s a toxic mindset,” Jane kept telling herself, trying to push it away.

She started out small, doing little things to regain Kat’s attention. Late at night, Jane had gone to the store to buy a giant box of guylian’s chocolates, Kat’s favorite. The next morning, she left them on the kitchen counter with the note, For Kat, the ten amongst these threes. From Jane.

When Kat walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, Jane held her breath in anticipation. Kat’s eyes drifted over to the chocolates as she frowned in confusion. She made her way over to the box and read the note. Eyes lighting up, Kat turned to Jane with an open mouth. “For me?” she gasped.

Nodding her head, Jane tried to conceal the smile growing on her lips. “Just for you Kat.”

“Oh thank you so much!” Kat hugged Jane tightly to her chest. “Can I have some now?”

Pretending to look around like she was keeping a secret, Jane put a finger to her lips. “Only if you don’t tell the others.”

Kat laughed and waved Jane off. “As if. These are all mine. Thank you Jane, I love you!”

For the first time in a week, Jane’s heart unclenched and she relaxed. Kat still loved her, that was good. That was very good.

The next day, Jane woke up bright and early so that she could be ready to greet Kat when she came down for breakfast. Behold her surprise when Kat was already up and about, fully dressed and wide awake. “Kat, why are you up so early?” Jane asked, still fighting back slight drowsiness. “It’s only 6:30.”

Pulling on a jacket, Kat shrugged. “Aragon’s taking me to this moving carnival that’s set up downtown. She heard about it through Maria and she wanted to take me.”

Like she heard her name, Aragon appeared from the kitchen. She had paper bags filled with food that she was packing into a travel bag. “That’s right, Kat,” she rubbed the girl’s shoulder. “Maria and the other ladies went yesterday and they loved it, so I thought I’d take Kat out for the day.”

“Oh,” Jane’s heart broke a little bit. “That’s nice.”

Aragon flashed her a grin and led Kat to the door. “We’ll be back for dinner Jane, don’t worry.”

Kat waved as they left the room. “Yeah, we’ll tell you all about it!”

The door shut on Jane, her hand half raised in a pitiful goodbye wave. “Bye,” she whispered, her shoulders slouching. She should’ve known it wouldn’t last. Kat wasn’t bound to her, she had her own relationships. That didn’t mean it hurt any less to see her bounding off with Aragon. Was she being replaced? Jane questioned. Had Kat found someone better when Jane wasn’t around and realized she didn’t want her?

Sensibility told Jane it was only insecurity, but she still couldn’t shake it off. If Kat only wanted to spend time with Aragon, how would Jane cope? Would she lose the bond she so desperately tried to build with Kat in the first place?

Setting her face, Jane vowed that she wouldn’t let Aragon destroy her and Kat’s bond. They had something none of the other queens had, and Jane wasn’t about to let that go. The battle was on.

“Hey, Kat,” Jane approached the girl a couple days later.

The teen was on her phone, scrolling through pictures she and Aragon had taken at the carnival. “Hmm?” Kat glanced up, her face brightening when she saw Jane. “Hi Jane.” Before Jane could start talking, Kat cut her off and shoved the phone in her face. “Look at this video I took from the carnival. This guy eats fire and then breaths it out. Isn’t it cool,” she explained.

Watching the video silently, Jane wasn’t paying attention to the guy eating fire. She was listening to the faint dialogue between Kat and Aragon from behind the camera. “How does he do that?” she heard Kat ask.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Aragon replied lightly, “and it’s more fun to watch and be amazed.”

Judging by Kat’s gasp, she had agreed. “It would be so cool to be able to do that.”

The camera shook slightly as Aragon came into frame, her eyes twinkling. “Don’t go hurting yourself trying to swallow fire, Kitty, this guy’s a professional.”

Kat’s pout was practically visible through her voice. “Do you really think I would hurt myself trying to eat fire?”

Shrugging goodnaturedly, Aragon leaned back out of frame. “I think you listen to your cousin too much sometimes. I’m not saying that I don’t trust you, but I am saying it’s not unlike you and Anne to try and eat fire because it looks cool.”

The video ended along with Jane’s good mood. How could Kat be so enraptured by Aragon? She and Jane had those conversations millions of times, why would she be having it with Aragon now? “Forget about that,” Jane tried to cover her annoyance with giddiness, “Because I’ve got something better planned.”

Raising her eyebrow in interest, Kat leaned forward. “What could be better than someone eating fire?”

“I dunno…” Jane teased Kat, “maybe the private animal shelter will suffice?”

Practically jumping to her feet, Kat dropped her phone, completely forgetting about the video. “No way! But you have to make appointments with them, Anna and I have been trying for months, how -”

Jane cut her off. “I pulled a couple strings, don’t worry about it. I know how much you wanted to see them, so it’s all worth it.”

“When do we get to go?” Kat prodded, bouncing on her feet.

Jane’s heart sped up when she saw the pure happiness in Kat’s eyes. “As soon as you’re ready.”

The animal shelter itself was huge, although there weren’t many people throughout. It was a private shelter and the owners required a considerable ‘donation’ for patrons to be allowed to come play with the animals even if they weren’t interested in buying. It was a lot of money Jane was required to pay, but she would do it a thousand times over in order to keep Kat happy.

Kat was fawning over the dogs as Jane stood behind her. There was a small, fluffy white dog that kept jumping into Kat’s lap and attacking her with its tongue. A bunch of other dogs swarmed her feet, causing Kat to giggle. Restraining herself from sneezing, Jane couldn’t help the swell of accomplishment in her chest. Kat loved it, and that’s what mattered.

The fur that was gathering around Jane irritated her skin, turning it red, but she ignored her discomfort. Jane didn’t care about her allergy to dogs and to fur, and she would continue to hide it from Kat. The teen was so happy with Jane, she wouldn’t ruin it. “Jane,” Kat called her attention. “Isn’t she so cute,” Kat held up the white dog to Jane, prompting her to pet it. Carefully stroking the dog’s fur, Jane prayed that a sneezing fit wouldn’t overcome her.

“She’s lovely, dear,” Jane agreed, stepping away from the dog as soon as Kat was satisfied.

Setting the dog down, Kat pulled Jane into a hug. Melting into the teen’s embrace, Jane couldn’t help a sigh of relief. This was all she wanted. “Thank you Jane,” Kat murmured. “I love you.”

That’s all Jane needed to hear, once again. The only thing she wanted out of any of this. So Jane contented herself to watch as Kat sat back on the ground and returned her attention to the dogs.

By now, Jane was sure she had won. How could Aragon compete when Jane had taken Kat to an exclusive animal shelter to play with the dogs she loved so much? At this rate, all of Jane’s worries would be for naught and Kat would always love her. All of this would fade into a little bubble in the past and things would be back how they should be.

That was until Jane heard talking coming from Kat’s room. Immediately standing up, Jane went to investigate. Chances were it was only Anne talking with her cousin, but Jane still had to know if there was something she was missing. Opening Kat’s door, Jane carefully peeked in to see what was going on.

In the center of the room stood Aragon, a small crate of stuffed animals in her hands. Kat was standing in front of her, sorting through the stuffed animals with wide eyes. “There’s so many,” Kat glanced up at Aragon, “how much did this cost?”

“Money’s not important. You were telling me about how much you loved the dogs at the shelter Jane took you to, so I knew you’d like these too. Think of it as a way to have them with you all the time.” Aragon spoke softly, her hand carefully brushing some hair away from Kat’s face.

A pit grew in Jane’s stomach. That was something she did with Kat. Not something Aragon did, something Jane did. It was her special thing, why -

Jane had to cut herself off. She kept berating herself internally for getting so caught up with this. All the queens were close, it wasn’t against any rules for Aragon to care for Kat. Aragon wasn’t a bad person, Jane knew that. But she kept wanting to believe that she was better than Aragon, and that she should be the one giving Kat gifts. This… this wasn’t the status quo.

Tuning back in, Jane watched as Kat took the crate from Aragon’s arms and beamed as wide as her face would allow. “I love them Catherine, I love you.”

And that was the last straw for Jane.

The next day, Jane had a surprise for Kat. If this didn’t win her over for good, she didn’t know what would. Aragon and Kat had gone out together for lunch, and the other queens were off doing who-knows-what. Jane was prepared, and she would wait in front of the door for as long as it took for Kat to show up.

Silently, Jane stared at the door. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, she knew it was wrong. But knowing you have a problem and being able to fix it are two different things. The only way she knew to get rid of this deep ache in her chest was to win. To win Kat’s affection, to win her attention, and to win her love. This girl was like her daughter, and she wasn’t going to let Aragon take that from her.

The door opened, bringing with it lively conversation. “Nando’s never fails,” Aragon laughed, herding Kat into the room. “But you shouldn’t order so much if you aren’t going to eat it.”

“Oh come on,” Kat rolled her eyes, “how else are we going to get leftovers for days? I’ve picked up on a life hack or two, you know.” Kat stopped speaking when she noticed Jane watching her. “Hey Jane,” she waved. Aragon and Kat stood in confusion at Jane’s still figure.

“Is everything alright?” Aragon was slightly put off by the other queen’s iciness.

“Yes, just fine,” Jane replied. “I have something for you Kat.”

Warily, Kat approached Jane and sat down next to her. There was something clearly wrong with Jane, and Kat was quite aware of it. “What is it?” she asked.

Reaching under her legs, Jane pulled out a small cage. She opened it, and out popped the small white dog Kat had been playing with at the shelter. Kat and Aragon gasped, both surprised at the furry creature’s appearance. “Jane... I…” Kat was unsure what to say.

“I got her for you, I know how much you loved playing with her,” Jane encouraged Kat to take the dog. Nervously, Kat obliged, picking up the animal.

Aragon frowned and made her way over to Jane. “It’s a sweet gesture and all, but Jane, you know we don’t have any way to support a dog right? We’re going to have to return her.”

“Yeah, and as much as I love her, wasn’t she already adopted by another family?” Kat recalled.

Batting off the concern, Jane inched away from the dog, her skin already turning red. “Nothing a little payment couldn’t fix. Besides, you liked her, so it was worth it.”

Still, Aragon was unconvinced. “Jane, just because Kat likes the dog doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to buy it.”

Standing up, Jane snarled, “Just because Kat likes animals doesn’t mean you have to buy her a crate full of them.” She then recoiled, realizing what her voice sounded like. “I - I.”

“Stop it!” Kat set the dog down and stepped away from Jane and Aragon. “Why are you fighting?”

“We’re not fighting,” Aragon assured Kat, taking a step towards her.

Scoffing, Kat moved away from them. “Maybe it doesn’t seem like it, but I’ve noticed. As soon as one of you does something nice, the other has to one up them. I don’t need all these gifts.”

“But you want them,” Jane added hopefully.

Shaking her head, Kat crossed her arms. “I want to spend time with you. Both of you. Together, if that’s even possible. You two have been at odds for the past week and I’m sick of it. I’ve tried to ignore it and enjoy the good things, but I can’t anymore. Why is it so hard to accept that I want to spend time with both of you?”

“Because I was here first?” Jane offered. “You’ve always wanted to spend time with me, Kat.”

Aragon tried to put herself in front of Jane. “Because I’m here when she isn't. Why keep going back to Jane when I’m always here for you.”

Biting her lip, Kat couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Do you two even listen to yourselves? This is so stupid. I don’t want you fighting over me.” Moving to round the couch and make a clean getaway to the stairs, Kat shot the two of them a disappointed glare. “I can’t spend time with either of you, not like this.”

“Kat!” Jane called her before the girl could disappear. “Aren’t you supposed to say you love me?” It was something she had become so used to hearing Kat say to her at the end of every conversation.

Shaking her head once more, Kat turned away. “I’m not sure I can say that truthfully right now.” Then she was gone, the closing over her bedroom door echoing throughout the house a moment later.

Jane turned to Aragon and they both glared at each other. “You’ve been doing it too, huh,” Jane broached, her voice defensive.

“I’ve only been trying to make sure she knows I care about her,” Aragon argued, crossing her arms.

“No,” Jane accused, “You’ve been using her to satisfy your own need to be a mother.”

“Well you’ve been doing it for longer than I have.”

Clicking her tongue, Jane sat down on the couch next to the dog. “Maybe I have. But I can’t stop. It’s the best feeling in the world, like a - like a -”

“Like a drug,” Aragon filled in. “I know.” She gave up and sat next to Jane. “You know what it’s like when Kat smiles at you better than anyone. And once she started looking at me that way…”

“You couldn’t let it go,” Jane added on. “I know,” she swallowed, “I know you aren’t a bad influence. I’m sorry I’ve been treating you like one. I don’t know how to get used to Kat seeing someone else the same way she sees me. Kat’s like my daughter.”

Aragon nodded, leaving the two queens in silence. “It might be a little weird at first,” Aragon broke the quiet air, “But we could try, maybe, spending time with Kat together? Like she said, it doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

Some defiant part of Jane still wanted to resist. She wanted to be the only one, she wanted things to be the way they were before Aragon entered the picture. But for once, Jane took a step towards fixing her mindset. “Let’s do it. If it’ll make things better, then let’s do it.”

In a moment of awkwardness, the two queens stared at each other, unsure of what to do next. Aragon stuck out her hand, hoping for Jane to seal the deal. Jane took the hand and the two of them shook on their agreement.

---------------------------------------------

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notebooknebula · 4 years

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https://www.jayconner.com/jim-sheils-and-18-summers/

Jay Conner (00:02): Alright, Scott! It looks like we are live streaming right now. So come on up here up front Scott and join me for a moment and we'll hang out before we officially start. So what's going on in Metagene Columbia right now?

Scott Paton (00:23): Well, it's another beautiful day. We're having a, it's, we're excited because in a few days the quarantine is over and it will be replaced by who knows what it's not going to be like everybody opening up and dancing and sightseeing, and eating and drinking like they did before. But it's easing off, which is really good. We're very fortunate here compared to Peru and Ecuador, and certainly Brazil in that we've had a lot lower number of people who have died and a lot lower number of people who have been sick. So they're a little concerned that if they open it up too fast, everyone will be, will get ill. But I'm suspecting if we've been pretty much alone for a month and a half or two months to the corona virus has done its thing and it's time to get out and get some fresh air and be out in the mountains. So...

Jay Conner (01:13): Yeah. Well, my lands! I've heard you say over the last few weeks that they don't let you go outside for one hour a day.

Scott Paton (01:22): Only one hour a day. Two to three, and you have to be under 60 years old. So I've cheated on that one. But I don't get away with it because I look 25. So...

Jay Conner (01:34): You definitely look less than 60 that's for sure. I was going to say, though, they like to do different hours for different. Like, if your name ends in a P like Paton, you got a certain hour, you go out or they just let the whole world up for an hour.

Scott Paton (01:48): Well, isn't that weird, right? The whole world comes out from an hour. Now they pick two to three, which is the hottest time. So most people don't want to go out and you have one day a week where we're based on the last number of your like driver's license. You can go shopping in the big stores, but the little shops like around me, they are just happy to see me. They don't care what they have of the week. It is. And so it's kind of a little bit loosey goosey that way,

Jay Conner (02:14): Mercy. So if you're just now coming into the live stream, go ahead and type in the comments section and let us know what's, where you are tuning in from. Cause we always like to know. And I got a really special guest that I'm going to be introducing to you in just a moment. But before I do, I want to let everybody know what we've got going on for the next two Fridays, I've got two free trainings. And you can go learn all about it. And these are actually free. This coming Friday, May 29th. And then again on June 5th, Friday, you can go to www.JayConner.com/fortune. And one, we'll be talking about the next two Fridays, this coming Friday, it's going to be a position or teaching you the 30,000 foot view of my foreclosure system, how it is that we you know, locate foreclosures before other real estate investors know about them.

Jay Conner (03:19): And as pertains to COVID-19 I had to learn how to do this virtually. So again, that's 9:00 AM Eastern to 5:00 PM Eastern, this coming Friday. And then again on June 5th I call it, I'm gonna be teaching how to get what I call free private money. And that is of course you all know I'm known as the private money authority, but how you can actually get your deals funded without even having to raise private money. So again, you can go over to JayConner.com/fortune and learn. And get registered. Okay. Get registered to attend for these two upcoming Fridays.

Scott Paton (04:04): So Jay I just want to cut you off just for a second, and just say that we had our first Friday last Friday, it was awesome. We had over 2,500 attendees for the, throughout the eight hours. Pretty amazing. And when you go to JayConner.com/fortune at Jay is talking about private money, he's the private money authority last Friday. And I put the embed of that full eight hours of training on that same page. So you can watch it, whether you register or not. But if you want to see the next step, like these all fit together very nicely, then make sure you go, you register, see what happened last week, and then you'll be prepared, really prepared for what's going to happen this coming Friday. And we're really excited about what we're going to be sharing with you.

Jay Conner (04:50): And there is Dan! Hello, Dan Mewhorter. A mastermind member. Jay, these free sessions are incredible packed full of content. Anyone enters through the learning how to get into real estate investing or need to up their game need to be on this. Awesome. Dan! Thank you for the shout out. Alright, well, Scott, I'm ready to officially start this show and podcast. How about that?

Scott Paton (05:16): Alright, here we go.

Jay Conner (05:17): Alright. I'm going to give you three seconds of silence and here we go.

Jay Conner (05:31): Well, hello everybody. And welcome to another episode of real estate investing with Jay Conner. I'm your host, Jay Conner. Known as the private money authority. And I'm just so glad you're here. So you may be viewing live on the stream yard right now, or you may be listening to our podcast. It's on iTunes and Google play. Or you may be watching on YouTube or et cetera. Regardless as to whether you're watching or listening live, or you are listening or watching the replay, we're glad you're here. And, you know, we launched my podcast, we've launched the show. My lands! It was June, 2018. I can't believe that much time has gone by. Anyway, we have another show today and I've got a very special guest we're in a high end mastermind meeting together, and his name is Jim Sheils. Let me tell you a little bit about Jim and then we're going to bring him in from the green room.

Jay Conner (06:27): So Jim has been a full time real estate investor all the way back since 1999. So Jim's been doing it longer than me. I went full time in 2003 and Jim's ventures have done over 1000 acquisitions and rehabs. That's a lot of properties. So, getting a star in the Bakersfield, California, a left there in 2005, headed over to Northeast Florida. That's where he is now. So thought of the longterm growth patterns that were predicted for that area. So after 2008, and of course it was your recall. It was because of 2008 and 2009. That's how I became known as the private money authority. I was cut off from the banks and learn how to get a lot of private money fast. Nonetheless, after 2008 Jim's company did a bulk of foreclosure properties until switching their model to new construction, to adapt to the changing market conditions and needs.

Jay Conner (07:29): So Jim, forming a very dynamic of building partnership called Jack's wealth investments. They now focus on catering to investors in single family and small multiunit development in Jacksonville, Ocala, Palm coast and Atlanta, Georgia as well. Now, the big reason that I've got Jim here on the show today is because he runs a family education company called 18 summers. And I can't wait to hear the story behind him naming it that. But what this education company does it specialize in talks, workshops and retreats for entrepreneur families. They all, Jim also wrote his bestselling book titled the family board meeting that went to number one and categories of relationships, parenting and entrepreneurship. So Jim is an expert in training and teaching on how to have balance in your life and in your business. In addition to that, Jim is also an avid surfer. Andrew was traveling with his family, particularly when we come out of COVID-19, the travel will be turned back on and especially loves traveling with his beautiful wife, Jamie. And their four children. So anyway, what an adventurous guy and Jim's greatest adventure today was donating a kidney to the greatest guy on this planet from his perspective. And that of course, was his father. So with that, Jim, welcome to the show.

Jim Sheils (09:06): Hey Jay, good to see you! Good to be here,

Jay Conner (09:09): Great to see you fellow CG member. Great to have you here on the show, Jim. So I'm just so excited to have this conversation with you about balancing life, balancing business, and to learn more about your workshops and your, and your retreats that you do. But I gave, I gave the folks part of your background, but you started back in 1999. How did you start? What got you into it?

Jim Sheils (09:35): Yeah, I had always wanted to do something on my own and like most entrepreneurs, I started delving into everything from franchises to other business opportunities and I kept falling back on real estate and I like the tangibility of it. It made sense to me, you know, how to, how to take something and pull the levers to add cash flow, to add equity. That made sense. And so I just slowly started going into real estate investments out in central California, where it was where, Bakersfield, California was the blood of Johnny Carson's jokes for years, but it was an investor's playground where property started at 40 to $50,000, which is a lot better than you know, Santa Barbara County to two hours over the medium price is 900,000. So I just I had always had, yeah, it was crazy, crazy, crazy. So, yeah, that's how I got my start. I knew I wanted to do something on my own. I just started getting training in real estate and pulling the trigger, you know, and I always joke, what's your, what's the best real estate class you ever took? And I say 432 North M street. That was the first property I ever bought 21 years ago. So that was my best lesson ever.

Jay Conner (10:49): Wow! That's an amazing story. So, in your introduction that I was sharing with folks you did like over a thousand acquisitions and rehabs and et cetera, but what was it that caused you to switch over to your new model and tell everybody more about what your new model is?

Jim Sheils (11:12): Yeah, well, I guess I always wore that badge on my shoulder, right? I'm a rehabber! I'm a rehabber! And you know, it's tough to teach the old dog new tricks and I was the old dog by then. You got used to something and we did really well coming out of 2008 here, you know, when there was all that bank inventory, we got really good at finding foreclosures and renovating them and putting them in our own portfolio or working with other investors to build theirs. And the problem was Jay, about five years ago, man, those numbers started to change. You know, they were getting bid up. The numbers weren't making sense. You'd have to cut corners if you really want to make the numbers work. And I don't like to cut corners. So my now building partner who I had done deals with before said, you know, we should try some new construction.

Jim Sheils (11:59): And that was almost like, wow! What are you saying? Don't, Those are, that's a terrible word. We're rehabbers. And sure enough, it was the right thing to do because we weren't able to find old house inventory anymore where the numbers worked, but although new construction, so we basically do build a rent. Now we build new construction homes that are designed just for investment property and we focused on single family, duplexes and quads. But what we've been able to find is better inventory. It takes longer, there's more effort to it, Jay, you know, so we had to, you know, learn some new muscles with developing and zoning and longer timeframes, but overall for ourselves and our clients, it's more predictable, better areas, better properties, better longevity just a stronger overall investment. So it's, it was a big jump five years ago, but I'm really glad to the point now where I used to have that big rehab badge on my shoulder. I refuse to do rehabs anymore. I just won't do. I've just completely switched over to the other side.

Jay Conner (12:59): Okay. Excellent. Excellent. Well, let's dive right on in to 18 summers. And what that is? How you got the name? And why you started doing it?

Jim Sheils (13:14): Yeah. So 18 summers was a lesson that a mentor of mine taught me. I first started doing family talks and I had written my book, you know, a bunch of years ago. And he said to me, Jim, you're really onto something because there's so much out there that's available for the entrepreneur to grow their business, but not to keep their family intact. And what I always wanted to see, and I saw this at a young age, I got, I was able to get on stages at a young age at different events. Cause I had some success in real estate, but I saw some people who were highly successful in business and they were completely failing at home. And frankly Jay, that scared me. I didn't want that to be me. So this was out of my own necessity and need to make sure that I stayed in that success in business and success at home combination.

Jim Sheils (13:58): And so my mentor was talking about that and he said, look, the years are not all created equal. You've got 18 summers. And he's like, and I looked it up. The stats show 85% of quality time people. The average person ever gets with their family. Their children occurs by the end of the 18th summer because then they start to go off and the amount of timeframe goes down and that just gave me a positive motivation. And now when I went into my talks and workshops that gave the same positive motivation to others, how do we make the most of that time without taking away ambition? Cause I'm very ambitious, you know, being an entrepreneur, but I want to have that double success, Jay success in work and success at home. So 18 summers became, I believe the only family education outlet designed specifically for entrepreneur families to make sure that you can have the best of both worlds.

Jay Conner (14:46): I got you. That's fantastic. So let me let you put on your training hat on your coaching hat right now and share with our audience, what are some of the strategies that you, that you teach and train at your workshops on how to achieve that kind of balance.

Jim Sheils (15:12): Sure. Let's go through a couple of principles that I think will stick with people. One of the best compliments I get is what we teach is very, stickable, it's easy to understand, easy to buy into, easy to apply and see results. So let's give a couple of those today. You know, going through our world changed as you know, Jay post COVID, you know, it's, everything got brought home work, family school, you know, everything's happening from home. So couple of things came into life. And one of the things is the importance that you have in the position of your family, of setting the leadership tone, you know, focus, breeds, increase, and people were talking about toddler meltdowns and teen grumpiness. Can those things be eliminated? No, but they can be minimized. And I believe a lot of it has to do with how are you handling your self in front of your family?

Jim Sheils (16:02): You are setting the tone. And sometimes we forget that. That it's, that trickle down effect. And so I always try to remind people what tone are you setting at home? You know what tone are you setting? And one of the worst tones that you can set when you're having a bad business deal, when everyone's pulled up onto the sidelines, by something like a COVID-19 is, do you have the awareness to step back and say, Hey, this is not my family's fault. Now, a lot of people don't even think about that, but that's really important because you get wrapped up in a deal going wrong, or you're taking a call in your living room, which you shouldn't be, you should be separated and your kids act like a kid and yell and you get upset, you know, or you say, well, no, I'm not taking it out on them.

Jim Sheils (16:47): But when you stop and think, if we're showing shortness, anxiety, a little bitterness and our family's feeling the brunt, and it has something to do with business and not them, that's not a good tone to set. We got to remember, it's not our family's fault when these big things happen. And also we set the leadership tone. And if we can show ourselves to be stronger leaders, more calm, more playful, more not, I'm not saying overly optimistic, you know, like purple, you know, the Rose colored glasses, but that sets a tone that will trickle down to your spouse and children. So one of the most important jobs is as the leaders, that...

Jay Conner (17:25): What I love about that principle and I'm glad you call that principle because what you just said is so foundational. What I love about it, it reminds me of a Jack Canfield's very first principle in his book, success principles, which is, I am 100% responsible. Right? And what you just went over is you are bringing to light there that what we're experiencing in our home life is a manifestation of us. That's excellent. Excellent! Very foundational.

Jim Sheils (18:07): Then it gets us back to the foundation back to the core. And that's really important, especially when you're thrown into a bunch of deals or you're thrown into a pandemic, we all get shook up. So then we have to breathe in and reground our feet. And that's one of the best things to remember. I set the tone. And I'm not going to set it perfectly, but the better I set it, the better things are going to be. So that's a big one. A second one Jay, that I love is, we all heard about in COVID again, not to keep going back to COVID COVID about social distancing, right? That's I get it. That's, that made sense. But what about tech distancing? The principle of tech distancing, Jay is absolutely essential right now essential. And it's got two parts to it. First, if your home don't be worked puking in your living room.

Jim Sheils (18:58): So let's say you're standing there, your family's having a great family moment that buzz in your pocket happens with a text where you're taking a phone call. And then all of a sudden you're getting heated in front of them, or you get off the phone and you're standing there with a scalp because something didn't go right. You've now just mixed over the lines. And that's just not fair. It's your, we call it half in parenting. You're trying to be part of the family. Take the tough work call and especially through pandemic or something. They might have been some pretty heavy conversations and maybe it's not something our younger kids needed to hear. I always say first step in tech distancing is you gotta distance yourself from your family to take calls, emails, and then before you step in and take a few deep breaths, and then you go back again.

Jim Sheils (19:42): But I can tell you the day two of the pandemic, Jay, I was helping someone who was in a bad real estate way. And they were in commercial. They had a bunch of lease stores. It was heavy. And I was feeling like they're getting taken advantage of, and I was, I was passionate. I cared about this person and their deal. Well, I'm texting, I'd put the thing away. And I'm kind of talking to myself like the crazy entrepreneur I am. My little five-year-old standing in front of me. And she goes, daddy, why are you so mad at me?

Jim Sheils (20:08): I didn't even see her standing there. And so it's like, wow! Again, talking about setting the leadership tone. I said, there's a time and a place for these calls. And it's not right in the kitchen with my kids around me. So the first step of tech distancing have a time and a place. Whether if you couldn't get to your office, I don't care if it's a closet or your car, we're going to take those emails. You're going to take those calls. You're going to find a quiet place. Even though I have four loud kids to do a podcast, right? So that we can talk and we can do this. And then the second side of tech distancing, Jay, is you have to have times of being completely and totally unavailable to work, to be with the people in front of you.

Jim Sheils (20:44): If you're always snagging that text or that Facebook thread or that call or email, you'll never truly be present. You'll always be getting pulled out of things and then you'll be going, geez, we don't really seem that connected. And we've all tried that where we fake, like we're listening to our spouse or one of our children. And they notice, we think maybe they didn't notice that we didn't hear what the hell they said, but it just sets a really bad tone. So you gotta have times where you're completely and totally unavailable. Shut off. We do a shut off every day at our house, Jay 5:30 to 7:30. It is the tech fast tech distancing. There's no phone, no laptop, no TV. Everyone is just, we're not sitting there staring at each other, but all tech is off. So that way, you know, the people right in front of us. So the conversation can flow without an interruption.

Jay Conner (21:34): That is an excellent suggestion. I mean, what I do to where I'm not even tempted to, you know, respond to this, right? I can put it in another room. Where I can't see it. I can't hear it vibrate. And I love this again, principle that you're sharing and it, you were explaining it. It reminds me of a mentor that I had decades ago. And he used to tell me all the time. He said, Jay, wherever you are, be there!

Jim Sheils (22:15): I'll tell you real estate investors. We wear this badge. Like I'm always available. I gotta work this deal. Almost anything can wait two hours. Almost anything. And there is nothing more rude. We say, well, we got to provide, we've got to protect. We've got to get the deal through. I get it. I've been a real estate investor 20 years. But to jump up from the dinner table for a mundane detail is setting a really bad example for what matters most. And for, would you want your kids doing that down the road? The answer is probably no. So a little bit...

Jay Conner (22:49): Again, you're setting the example. I love it.

Jim Sheils (22:53): Exactly. It'll go down. It's tech distancing is a very powerful and simple. When people think about it, it's okay to turn off and recharge. Even as a real estate investor, you know, a one hour a day can do wonders if you're doing it during the things during, during certain hours where you're around your family, you'll start to see, wow, we're having a deeper conversation. I actually am seeing things I'm actually listening. This is incredible. But even if that phone just on, you're waiting for that "zzt-zzt", you know, in that pocket, your brain goes out the window. So practice tech distancing, Jay, it works huge. Another thing that's really important right now, especially this is good. Especially you being the private money guy, you know, non QM money went away.

Jim Sheils (23:33): You know what I mean? There's lots of stuff that's changed. I believe certain real estate is going to do phenomenal. Others are going to be challenged, but Jay, if I learned anything in 2008 and we survived 2008, we were heavily invested in California, in Florida at the time, that was not a pretty sight to go through 2008. You know, values dropped 60% wrench dropped 40% a totally different time. And I'm more excited now, obviously then I wasn't no wait, but let me tell you, Jay, there's two things people have to look for right now. This is going to be good for real estate investors. You should get support, but there's two types of support out there. There's moral support and there's technical support. Now in 2008, I would take as much moral support as I could get. You should be given some of your friends and family coming through the pandemic or a challenge, moral support, but you might not be in the position to give technical support.

Jim Sheils (24:24): And there's a big difference. I remember in '08, people were wanting to help me, you know, through the real estate things. They wanted to give me technical support and they weren't really in the position to do so. Where I'm sure Jay you've had the same thing where, you know private money. But there's sometimes you see that out there. It's almost like the Baker's trying to teach you how to cut meat. It doesn't go together. Right? If you go to the butcher to learn how to cut meat, not the Baker, go to the Baker for baking the bread, but there's always that crossover. So I always encourage people to save efficiency and effectiveness, to have more time with your family. There's two types of support out there. There's moral support take as much as you can and give as much as you can. There's technical support, technical support, Jay.

Jim Sheils (25:09): There's probably, I bet you you'd say there's probably maybe three, four people in the world. You'd feel comfortable talking on your niche and that's it. And that's what I've learned. There's only about two to three groups that I go to for overall, what's the economy going to do real estate wise. And I go to people who have a track record, people who called things for many more years than I've been even investing. And have real teams set up that show track record. And I think that's really important right now in today's day and age, you want to get the best results, like exactly what you're doing. You're giving technical support. Cause you've been there done that, but the problem is sometimes we still go for technical support to people who aren't really in the position to give it, if that makes sense.

Jay Conner (25:48): Yeah. What does giving moral support mean to you? What does giving moral support look like or sound like?

Jim Sheils (26:00): So for example, I had friends that really struggled in retail post COVID. I could give them moral support, Jay. I've never done large retail. I've never had thousands of employees. That just wasn't my thing. So there was a fringe type of technical, but for the most part of saying, Hey, I'm thinking about you, you know, hang in there, you know, there's, there's gotta be other guys going through this, find out what they're doing, but I wasn't going to be the one to stand up on the lifeguard chair and point for where they should go. Cause frankly, I didn't know. So, the advice is more to tell him, to keep going to hang in there. Call if you need anything, don't get too down on yourself. Remember self-worth and network's got nothing to do with each other. Your family is still gonna be there no matter what happens, your real friends will be there. That's that's moral support. Technical support is saying, look, here's how you renegotiate a, you know, a multi package lease. Here are the groups that are holding off on inventory control, where you could get your inventory paid down to a third of what they would have charged you. I don't know how to do that. I'm no, it has to. So I'd be, I'd be faking it and that wouldn't be right to do to them.

Jay Conner (27:15): Yeah. Yeah. I believe I agree with everything you just said. And in addition to that, sometimes the best moral support that we can give people is a sincere listening ear.

Jim Sheils (27:31): That's a lot. Sometimes you don't have to say anything, they just get it off their chest, you release it. I remember I had a lot of releasing conversations in 2008, Jay. And people just listened and that's sometimes that, it clears your head just to get it out. And that's really powerful.

Jay Conner (27:51): Dan Mewhorter is here with us live. He just come in one of the great things about Jay Conner's masterminds that we give and get moral support and technical support. Well, that's so true. And that's a great thing about masterminds. You know, the mastermind that you and I are in Jim. That's all about giving and receiving the technical support and the moral support, you know, and plus another thing that I've discovered over the years when it comes to us entrepreneurs and I'm, my experience has been this relates to men and women. There's just not the majority of the people walking around. Don't understand us, does not understand balls. So it's like, you know, like a lot of people don't understand on people that are listening to this podcast, they get it because people listening to this show have an entrepreneur spirit, or they're interested in entrepreneurial things. But now we have this thing called it's hard to turn this real estate off in between our ears. Right? And you know, people accused us of being workaholics. Well you know, it's really a challenge not to do what I did because I don't even view it as work. It's just what we do. But anyway, these are great strategies. If you have one more strategy you want to share with us or did you, or do you keep it to three?

Jim Sheils (29:26): Yeah, I do keep it to threes, but let me, let me give you a bonus one that's been really powerful for people. And this is like the cheat of cheats. You know, if, if you want a healthy shortcut, this is one of them, your spouse, your children. If you want to have a good relationship with each of them or up the odds of that. You gotta have one on one time, one on one time, this is something I learned in our retreats. Cause we would do whole family retreats and just two retreats with one parent, one child. The potency of one on one time, like a date with your spouse a day with your phone off. And just one of your children, let's say you're crazy like me and have four. It just, it puts the magnifying glass on the relationship in a positive way.

Jim Sheils (30:10): And it opens up new conversations and attention that, you know, big family gatherings won't. Like I come from an Irish Catholic family, which means I have like 7,000 cousins, you know, and that's, that's great, but those big, those big events are great, but it's the one on one time that had the biggest effect on my marriage and on the relationship with my kids. So I would say just like, you're going to schedule with your biggest investors to find your deals, schedule one on one time with your spouse and your children. And you'll be amazed the difference and the depth that you get to just by those deposits of one on one time. It works.

Jay Conner (30:48): I love it. I love it. But Jim, I can tell you what I also know, just in our visit here on the show, you've got a servant's heart. I pick up on it. And I appreciate you coming on here and sharing just fantastic information on how people to really take care of themselves, grow their relationships, nurture the relationships that they have. So let's give out your website, Jim, because I know our listeners and audience would really like to continue to connect with you.

Jim Sheils (31:21): Yeah. If you're interested in our build to rent model, you just go to JaxWealthInvestments.com And if you want a little help on the family side, making sure that your family is successful as your business grows just go visit us at 18summers.com. That's 18Summers.com

Jay Conner (31:42): That's awesome. Jim, thank you so much. I appreciate you brother.

Jim Sheils (31:46): Thank you, Jay. Good to be here.

Jay Conner (31:48): Okay, everybody there, you have another show. I'm Jay Conner, the private money authority. Everybody stay safe. You're in the midst of a COVID-19 as we come out on the other side and I'm wishing you all the best here's to taking your real estate investing business to the next level. We'll see you on the next show. Bye for now.

To listen to our Podcast, click here:

https://realestateinvestingdeals.mypodcastworld.com/10662/jim-shiels-and-18-summers-part-one

https://realestateinvestingdeals.mypodcastworld.com/10664/jim-shiels-and-18-summers-parttwo

#Jay Conner #Private Money Lender #Real Estate Business #Real Estate #Real Estate Investing #Real Estate Investor #Real Estate Profit #The Private Money Authority

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sparklyandchic · 4 years

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🦋 MINI MIND MAKEOVER 🦋

okay i started the idea for this mini little mind makeover when i broke up with my boyfriend in like january. instead of being sad or angry, i wanted to be grateful for this time and take it as an opportunity to make life better for myself. then quarantine happened, so some of these are related to things i’ve learned since that started. either way, these aren’t all concrete things to do for your mind; some of them are just ways of thinking or pep talks. but if you can find one little piece of information or thought that makes you a little bit happier for a moment, that’s all i can hope for!

5-htp: okay first off- please ALWAYS consult your psychiatrist or medical professional before taking a supplement! taking 5-htp with, for example, serotonin-increasing medications can lead to a fatal illness called serotonin syndrome. personally, i started taking it because i had been on 10 mg prozac for a few months. it definitely dulled a lot of my anxiety and had a lot of positive aspects to it, but it dulled them almost too much to the point where i felt apathetic and detached from myself and the situations i was in. i was in a very unhealthy relationship and felt like i needed my mental clarity and “overthinking” processes back in order to identify what i was feeling and how to deal with it. i felt a lot more “sensitive” after coming off it, which was actually really welcome for me at first, but then it sort of dropped off into withdrawals. i was having constant panic attacks and crying very often. after a while, i was debating going back on prozac, but remembered i had taken 5-htp before. 5-htp is an amino acid that is a direct precursor to serotonin being produced in the brain. when u eat turkey, tryptophan is converted into 5-htp which leads to your brain producing serotonin, thus why you feel calm and happy afterwards. after taking 5-htp for just a few days, ranging between 200-300 mg per day (again, do your research, ask your doctor, and start small) i stopped crying constantly and really felt this sense of calmness and wellbeing but without the detachment and apathy i felt with prozac. i could still think clearly but didn’t feel overly sensitive to every emotion which arose. personally, it is really a lifesaver and really does make a noticeable difference.

cognitive behavioral therapy: ive tried therapy a million times. well okay, like 5 or 6 different therapists. at its worst, therapists told me i needed to use my sexual power as a woman in order to get what i wanted from men, told me i’m bad at socializing and should do group therapy, said my mom shouldn’t have encouraged me to “be myself” when i was younger because it made me less likeable than if i had conformed to normal societal standards of dressing. i had gone to “therapists” who claimed to be trained in CBT, but when i told them about my experiences with dissociation, the only feedback i got was to “take more baths.” while going through a few unpleasant experiences in my personal life, i decided i should try CBT once more, but like the real kind. i found an ivy-league educated licensed psychologist (NOT a “licensed clinical social worker” who doesn’t even have a psychology degree!!) who SPECIALIZED specifically in cognitive behavioral therapy. just after the first session, i was so elated with my experience. as opposed to just telling me that i needed to be more normal or more kind or a better person, she tried to identify WHAT was making me feel that way about myself in the first place. she pointed out the positive things i do and reassured me i was kind, good, and deserving of good things. she pointed out many aspects of my situation that would have taken me days or weeks to come to on my own. i’ve realized my hubris isn’t that i’m not socially acceptable or not perfect enough, but its just that i tend to THINK that i am these things despite having no evidence of it. so, over time with therapy, my positive self image about who i am as a person has grown and strengthened and i dont just randomly feel like a bad human being anymore lol. moral of the story, if you wanna do therapy but it keeps sucking, dont give up. go to a legit psychologist, find someone who specializes in the type of therapy you’re seeking, and also be vocal during your sessions. stand up to your psychologist when they continually push a narrative onto you, and explain why you don’t agree with it. sometimes it’s their job to try different narratives to see what fits, and if you just passively let them say what they want to, you’ll never find the truth of your experience! it’s a communal effort! therapy isn’t usually a magic cure-all where one session fixes everything that goes awry in your brain. but if you find someone who knows what they’re doing they can in fact really help your thought processes become less twisted up and more clear and healthy.

meditation and mindfulness: a few weeks ago i felt anxious and overly driven to get things done to the point where i spiraled into a space of guilt or a panic attack over not getting enough things done. meditation can be so so helpful here. it’s better to spend an hour sitting and doing nothing, but doing it peacefully and then calmly moving on to doing something else, than to spend 5 hours stressing yourself over every single thing you need to get done and how much time you’re wasting. the things that need to get done will get done. another thing that i’ve realized and say to myself a lot is: “focus not on doing all things perfectly, but on doing the small things well.” by this i mean, stop thinking about the 20 things you need to get done and how it all needs to be perfect, but instead take your time with the task that presents itself as most beneficial right now and focus on enjoying it and giving your whole self to the process. for example, stop thinking about how you need to clean your room, your closet, donate clothes, take a shower, take out the trash, read, workout, etc. think to yourself; “which task would bring me the most joy right now?” if the answer is taking a shower, then take that damn shower. bring your speaker into the bathroom, scrub every inch of your scalp with shampoo, scrub your feet and behind your ears and your neck with body wash, brush the conditioner through your hair fully. you may end your shower with 19 other things to do, but god damn if you can’t enjoy a single one of them and be present for it, what’s the fucking point! go light a candle and bask in its glow, go make your bed and huddle up in your neatly arranged covers, go take a long bath or a thorough shower, and be proud of and content with that today.

relationships, with others and yourself: okay, if you missed the memo, my ex-boyfriend sucked. like genuinely was a bad person. he was a drug dealer, so that’s red flag number 1 (which i ignored of course), he hadn’t graduated high school (he was 18, i was 20, he was supposed to graduate the last semester but refused to do the work and ignored me and his mother when encouraged to do it, which is uhh definitely red flag number 2 which i also ignored), he habitually did not show up for dates on time or lied about what he was going to do or what he did (literally everything he did was a red flag and i rlly ignored all of it). the worst part was how he responded when i worked up the courage to speak to him about it. if we had agreed upon a time for our date but he showed up literally 8 hours late, he would blame it on me because i “could have called” him, or that i was “demanding too much of” him, or that i “should have said something earlier so now [i was] just dragging it out because it already happened.” basically, whatever narrative he pushed at me, i eventually gave into. i’ve dealt with gaslighting in a relationship before and a part of me knew what was happening to me, but a part of me also kept having hope for him, kept empathizing with him, kept wanting to believe in him. after a bit too much time, i finally realized you have to trust yourself, empathize with yourself, and believing in yourself over anyone else. at first i felt bad for him not being able to graduate because i had my own struggles with high school and getting work done. i thought he may have issues but he deserves someone to be there for him because i wanted someone to be there for me. despite the pain and stress he was causing me, i sat around crying over him because i cared about him and tend to over-empathize with people close to me, whether they deserve it or not. my therapist told me something that at first i did not understand, but over time came to grasp in its entirety: “some people do not deserve your love or kindness.” after our first session, my homework was to “consider when you are being kind and when you are being taken advantage of.” this made me realize that what feels like your instinctual nature to be nice to others, can in fact be a self-sabotaging unfair action, depending on the other person’s response. i might be dishing out a lot right now, but bear with me. think of it this way: you regard an action as a “kind action”. you might think “kind actions” include: forgiving someone for large mistakes, putting someone’s needs over yours, sparing them some change when they ask for it, listening to the problems they are dealing with every day. BUT when their actions include not forgiving you for minor mistakes, not giving a sh*t about your needs or considering them, not caring how much money they take from you and how much money you need to have around, or habitually glossing over your problems because it doesn’t benefit them to care, THEN those actions you performed are NOT “KIND ACTIONS” anymore. the act of continuing to give them leeway is now the act of being taken advantage of. the act of giving them money is now the act of being taken advantage of. the act of buying into their story at the expense of your sanity, is now the act of being taken advantage. basically, all i’m saying is START PUTTING YOURSELF FIRST AND TRUSTING YOURSELF WHEN YOU FEEL SOMEONE DOESN’T HAVE YOUR BEST INTERESTS IN MIND.

ending thoughts: i know quarantine is difficult right now. the desire to grow contrasted with the inability to move. maybe try and follow that old 2008~ quote; “bloom where you are planted”. you might not be able to reach the goals you thought you would during this time. you might not be able to run a marathon or make a bunch of new friends or wake up at 6 AM to workout or redo your bedroom or get a rhinoplasty or join a gym or get an internship. working towards productivity might be unrealistic right now. but you can work everyday towards becoming the woman you want to be, mentally. you can work on learning to be content, learning to make the best with what you have, learning to appreciate the little things, learning to slow down. these are all qualities that i for one want to have just as much as i want to be attractive or successful. if you can’t enjoy success, what’s the fucking point! life is on pause right now, take this moment as a gift and consider your internal world and what parts of your mind need a makeover. there are horrible things happening in the world right now, do what you can to help, but if you’re safe and healthy then be grateful for the things you can learn from this difficult time. take it slow, but keep moving forward!

#happyandchic #happy and chic

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everythingjacksepticeye · 5 years

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Real Talk/My Ultimate Dream

[[TDLR; Homelessness is a huge issue, I have a dream to counter it - someday I hope to be a fuckin’ badass and dropkick anyone who tries to take advantage of such people.]]

Okay, so, this isn’t something I normally put here - I honestly added the jacksepticeye community in because it’s one of the communities I feel really close to and I want you guys to see this too.

Anyway - this Real Talk is about homelessness, and other possibly triggering matters. I just wanted to say that up front just so people don’t accidentally stumble across something they don’t expect.

Something I’ve always felt very passionate about is young people and homelessness. It’s always saddened me knowing that there are some kids out there that school is literally the only place they actually have a roof over their head and a hot meal each day. I feel like I’ve become even more aware of this as of late due to the fact that some of these schools have actually been closing due to the spread of illness.

Rent is so damn expensive these days - that’s one of the issues in this huge mess. No matter which way you look - apartments, homes, etc - everything is very expensive. Even if you do find a decently priced living space - there are always other expenses to consider - such as tuition, other school expenses, groceries, transportation, and many basic necessitates.

With that being said - let’s get to my ultimate dream. Unfortunately, this would require me being either a multi-millionaire/or billionaire so I don’t know how realistic this would be because I have nowhere near that amount of money, but I really wish I would so I could make this happen.

But anyway - I want to build apartment complexes. Not just any old apartment complexes, though. These complexes would be centered around being as affordable as possible. I would try my best to have at least one in every state - ideally right where they would be needed. It’d probably be difficult to have them in every city, but if there could be at least one per state I would be happy. These apartments would likely be a bit more on the smaller side, but still very nice and sturdy. It wouldn’t be just one room where you’d have to cram all your things in. You would have a kitchen, a living space, bathroom, a place to store things, and a bedroom. It would be your space - your home. Just like any apartment would be.

Now comes the affordable part. The rent for these apartments would be nothing over $100 USD. Period. Utilities? That’s on us and completely covered. There would be no string attached. For someone who’s been in a similar situation before, I know how utilities can add up over time - and when you have rent on top of that, it just gets even worse. Water, heat, air conditioning, electricity, trash disposal - all on us. Worried about not having internet for school? Don’t be - we have free WiFi here that you can use to your heart’s content.

Now I know what you’re possibly thinking - this idea sounds wonderful, but something like this would definitely be taken advantage of, right? I know that, unfortunately, where there’s affordability like this - there’s a high probability that it’ll likely attract the more shady crowd and become a hot spot for things like that. Nope. Definitely not. Security would be one of our top priorities. This is a safe space and would be treated as such. I was thinking that I would probably want it to be basically treated like a campus. There would be security guards working 24/7 here making sure all is well for the residents. You would still have to go through the necessary procedures before you move in just to make sure that everything remains safe, but other than that - there would be no discrimination.

Concerned about the cost of food? No problem. Each of these complexes have food courts at their center. Everyday there will be a choice of meals available to you if you feel like you can’t afford groceries for that particular month. No one deserves to go hungry and you won’t have to pay a dime for it.

Worried about your school or work being too far away from home? We’ll have your back. Transportation is always difficult - especially if you don’t have a vehicle yourself - so that’s why I want each of these complexes to have drivers. Kind of like Uber - but without the cost. Donations/tips are optional, but not mandatory. Drivers would still be paid and have a source of income, of course, but not by you. This transportation would be available to all residents 24/7.

For those who are kicked out of their home and abused due to their beliefs and lifestyle? Fuck that. Call us and we’ll send a driver to you no matter how far the drive is. We might not be able to set you up straight away with your own apartment, but no one should go through the pain, stress, and fear of being thrown out on the streets with nothing and nowhere to go. Here, you will at least be warm, have a roof over your head, and food available until we figure everything out for you.

We would be very strict with our nothing over $100 USD policy. No hidden costs or bullshit like that. We would care about each resident and treat them and their living space with respect. If you’re worried about your service/therapy animal not having access - don’t be. There will be no extra cost for pets. You can bring your dog, your cat, your favorite lizard - whatever it may be. As long as it doesn’t cause any issues or destruction - they will be welcomed. If something goes wrong - maybe your kitchen sink stops working, or maybe you notice a crack in your window, or anything like that - we’ll happily assist and help fix it for you as soon as possible.

It doesn’t matter if you live there for a week, a month, or for the next four years - we’ll be there for you no matter what. You will never have to worry about not having a place to go back to. Even if you fear that $100 USD per month is too much for you even so - we’ll figure it out. We’re not here to steal your money - we’re here to protect our young people.

It would be my hope to spread these safe apartment complexes across the U.S. and hopefully even overseas someday. Homelessness is everywhere and it would be my goal to try my absolute best to reach out wherever is needed. We have hotels everywhere, we have restaurants everywhere - why don’t we have something like this everywhere? Yes, there are shelters - and I’m not trying to discredit them because what they do is amazing - but we need something much more permanent. Something like actual homes for people to live in - a place where they can feel like its their own and not have to worry about not having a roof the next day.

It would be my hope that all of this would be funded by donations. The $100 USD rent and these donations alike would only go back to the residents and employees that work there. It would keep the utilities paid, the food courts running and the drivers, and the security and general upkeep of the apartments.

And me? Well - just seeing the smiles of relief of each person I manage to take under my wing would be enough. I don’t need anything else. I’d basically be the badass protective Dad who will dropkick anyone who tries to take advantage of this. No matter how large this would get - I would make sure that our policy of affordability will always remain true. If some bigwig comes and has a problem with that? Fuck them - I’ll be ready to fight for that until the very end. People who try to take advantage of people in these situations just for a bit more pocket change are disgusting and need to back the hell off.

As soon as you step through our doors, you will be welcomed. You will be safe. No matter fucking what.

This is my Ultimate Dream.

#world matters #homelessness #my dream #jacksepticeye #jse community #trigger warning possibly? idk I'll put it there just in case #trigger warning #homeless #students #student debt #sickness #rent

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hannahcrazyhawk · 5 years

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This month my car suffered a catastrophic catalytic converter failure. I was forced to increase my current student loans to cover the cost. Unfortunately, even after the repairs, I saw no improvement in my car’s poor performance and terrible gas mileage. I took my car back to my mechanic and he said the car is misfiring and my transmission is likely failing. At this point, I have put so much into just fixing my car that I cannot handle the financial burden of more repairs, especially a new transmission. I’ve been advised by my mechanic and other professionals in the field to start saving for a new used car. My plan is to drive this car until its transmission goes and, I desperately hope that by then I will have enough to cover a decent new used car. Having a reliable mode of transportation is vital to me. As many of you are aware, I suffer from numerous, debilitating chronic illnesses that make using any other mode of transportation impossible. I survive month to month on disability and student loans, so saving enough money on my own is not a viable option. I am also unable to take out a car loan because of my bad credit from medical dept. I hope to raise enough money in the next few months to purchase a new used car. This support would mean everything to me. Because I rely solely on my car for transportation to and from my college classes and medical appointments, it’s imperative that I have a plan in place for when my current car fails completely. Every little bit helps, and I would be so grateful for any help you can provide. Thank you for reading! 💙 https://gf.me/u/xg4rz5 #haulhannah #gofundme #newcars #pleasehelp #funding #subarunation #carproblems #spoonielife #spooniesupport #spoonies #gofundmedonations #help #gofundmeplease #support #charity #gofundmecampaign #helpingothers #helping #helpinghand #automotivedaily #carsinstagram #mechaniclife #chronicfatigue #chronicallyill #chronicpainwarrior #chronicillnesswarrior #rheumatoidarthritis #fibrowarrior #neuro #donations (at Eugene, Oregon) https://www.instagram.com/p/B77Hc0eFDeL/?igshid=1pl7dncaug7nb

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soybeantree · 6 years

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blossom

pairing: mark x reader genre/warning: singleparent!reader, teacher!mark; some soft shit word count: 7k description: soft mark as your son’s teacher. a/n: buckle in buttercups

“Do you ever feel like your life is spiraling down a black hole headed nowhere?” “No. Is that an adult thing?”

The young boy sitting across the table from you asks, pausing in his breakfast consumption. Sighing, you put down your spoon and shake your head. “No, I think it’s a me thing. Your mom is a mess. Have I apologized to you lately that you ended up with me as a mom?” The young boy chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re a great mom and a beautiful mess.” He says as he stands up and clears his dishes, heading for the sink. “I’m a blessed mess.” You call over your shoulder as you stand up. “It’s the only way I could end up with a kid like you.” You add as you follow your son’s example and place your dishes in the sink. As you start to rinse them off, you catch sight of the clock. “Oh, shhh-It’s time to go!” You save yourself, shooting your son a smile. The kid shakes his head. “Swear jar.” “I didn’t say it.” “Swear jar.” His arms cross his chest, and his feet stand firm. Your cause is lost. “Fine. Go grab your jacket and backpack. And hurry about it!” You call as he disappears into his room. Heading towards the annoyingly large glass jar which sits in the far corner of your living, you dump all of your change into it. The jar is nearly full, and the sight makes you cringe. The past few weeks at work have been stressful, leading to your statement at breakfast and the full jar. While you hope the trend won’t continue, reality leads you to believe otherwise. You do need to find a better outlet for your stress though, or you’re going to end up broke. “Mom!” “Coming.” You rush to the entryway, slipping on shoes before dashing out the door your son is so kindly holding open. His school is close by, the reason you chose the apartment. He insists that being ten he is old enough to walk to school by himself. You insist that being twenty-eight you are not old enough for him to walk to school on his own. You plan on living a long and healthy life, and if something happens to him, you’ll either end up dead from grief or in jail for vengeance. So the two of you walk to school together. These couple minutes are sacred to you. With all the stress and demands of work, time with your son is scarce, so you take advantage of every minute you have. “Alright, what do I need to know about this coming week?” You ask as you head down the street. Your son walks silently beside you, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket. “What is it?” You ask at his hesitation. “We are currently in a full honesty, no judgment zone. Didn’t you see the sign we just passed?” You gesture over your shoulder to the non-existent sign behind you. He cracks a smile and shakes his head. “There was no sign mom.” “Okay, but my point still stands.” Taking a deep breath, he starts. “I want to make a deal with you.” His eyes dart to yours, and you nod urging him to continue. “If you say yes, you can take back all the money in the swear jar.” The money in the swear jar is designated for charity. You two had come up with this deal when he was in first grade and was sent to the principle’s office for swearing in class. You had been mortified but were even more mortified when you realized it was your fault. That day you had told him that swearing in school was not okay and promised that you would stop swearing, and that ff he caught you swearing, then you would put all the change in your wallet into the swear jar. Once it was full, you would take all the money and donate it to the charity of his choice. While you hadn’t been able to keep your promise as diligently as you would have liked, you two had donated quite a bit to charities. “Kid, that money-” He holds up his hand though, and you zip your lips. It’s his time to talk. “At the end of the month, we’re going to have a choir concert.” Everything within you plummets as your mind follows the path he’s laying out. “Minnie’s mom was supposed to help with the costumes and the set, but she broke her arm and can’t. Mr. Mark can’t do it all by himself, and he asked if any other parent’s might be able to help. I know you’re busy with work, but no other parent’s can help and if Mr. Mark doesn’t get any help then we can’t do the concert and-and…” His shoulders heave, and his eyes start to glisten, and you stare back at him helpless. Ever since that first day when the doctor placed this tiny bundle in your arms, you’ve been helpless whenever you look in those eyes. “Okay.” “Okay? You’ll do it!” He bounces on his feet, smiling up at you so brightly, and you know if you could you would give this kid the world. “Yes, yes, I’ll do it.” “Mr. Mark will be so happy.” He beams as he starts to skip down the street. “Mhm.” You nod as you follow him at a more moderate pace. Mr. Mark. Mark Tuan was your son’s first grade teacher, the one who had sent him to the office for swearing. He was there when you came to pick him up. Your son had been in tears. He hadn’t realized what he said was a bad word. Mommy said it all the time. He didn’t want to be a bad kid. Mark had sat beside him, telling him that just because he said a bad word didn’t mean that he was a bad kid. People made mistakes. He just needed to learn from his mistake, so that way he didn’t make them again. Standing down the hall watching the interaction, your mind was a war of emotions, the chief being mortification. You were mortified that you were teaching your son to cuss; that because of you, he felt this way about himself; and that Mark witnessed it all. The second emotion was gratitude. You were grateful that Mark was the one who witnessed it, that he would sit with your son and comfort him, and that he had somehow found a way back into your life. Fate is funny, you think as you give your son a kiss and send him off to school. While the goodbye embarrasses him as it would any ten year old boy, he lets you do it every morning. Because, as he has told you so many times, his love for you is greater than any embarrassment. You hope it’s something he learned from you. That cussing isn’t the only thing you’ve taught him. Your love for him is greater than any embarrassment. You wish it was the same for your family. Heading towards the nearby bus stop, your mind wanders through old memories. You were young when you had your son. Fresh out of high school, you found out you were pregnant. You were unwed and unemployed with only your family to lean on, except you couldn’t. They wouldn’t let you. Coming back from another unsuccessful job hunt, you had found a suitcase on your parent’s doorstep with all your clothes in it. Your father wasn’t pleased with what had happened you could tell that by his stony silence and your mother was always looking away when you entered a room, but they were your parents. They should love you more than any embarrassment. You had stood on their doorstep, pounding on the door and screeching until night fell. But the door never opened. They probably weren’t even home. They had kicked you out and fled. You collapsed against the door, staring at the sliver of moon which hung in the sky. That’s when Mark came. You had known Mark your whole life. He lived down the street from you and was by far the coolest kid on the street. All the boys wanted to be his friend and all the girls wanted to be his girl-friend. He was your first crush and your first love. Being two years older than you, he had already gone off to college. So when he came and crouched down in front of you, you were shocked to see him. He had undoubtedly heard you screaming, the whole neighborhood had, but he didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t ask about it or offer any false words of hope. Instead, he held out a hand and asked if you wanted to grab something to eat. As you board the bus, you smile at the memory. His face had shone with kindness, but all you wanted was to tell him to fuck off and leave you alone and stop trying to be nice. With him there, you couldn’t curl up in a little ball and cease existing. But you said none of that. You couldn’t. While the thing inside you was probably no bigger than a grain of rice, it needed you. Without you, it couldn’t survive, and you refused to abandon it. Your love for it would be greater than any embarrassment. So you took Mark’s hand and let him pull you up. He grabbed your suitcase and, with his hand still wrapped around yours, started walking down the street. He did all the talking which was shocking because he never talked. Mark was always the quiet, mysterious type, but tonight he was a fountain of words. He told you about how he was studying to be a teacher and about his roommate Jinyoung who was also pursuing education. The two of you headed to a local restaurant, and over a steaming bowl of soup, he continued to speak. Eventually, you started talking too and joking. He never asked about the pregnancy or made any comments about it. For one night, you were able to just be you. After dinner, he offered you his sister’s room for the night. Being older than him, she had already moved out. Hesitant, you declined, but he assured you his parents wouldn’t mind. Having no other options, you relented and agreed. His parents didn’t mind. They welcomed you in with open arms, showing you the spare room. A towel lay folded neatly on the bed with little bottles of shampoo and soap. After a warm shower, you laid down and fell asleep instantly. The next morning, you woke before any of them. During your shower the night before, you had accepted the truth. The life you had lived before came to an end when the second pink line appeared. Your parents made it very clear you no longer had a place here, and you couldn’t live of the Tuan’s kindness forever. Before they could wake and talk you out of your decision, you left with only a note to thank them for their kindness. Life was hell after that. Working, raising a kid, and putting yourself through college, you wonder how you did it. There were lots of tears and sleepless nights, but you survived. After all your hard work, you were able to land a good job and send your son to a good school. He loved his school, especially his teacher Mr. Mark. It wasn’t until that first parent-teacher conference that you realized Mr. Mark was your Mark. That had been a fun night, followed by more fun nights. Over the school year at different functions, you and Mark had filled each other in on those years since you left. He regaled you with the tales of him and his friends, and you allowed him a glimpse of your hell. Feelings you had thought long dead floated to the surface. They weren’t the same though. The infatuation of a young girl had matured into respect and appreciation and desire. For a time, you entertained your childhood fantasies. Then your son swore. Standing there watching Mark comfort him, you were thrown back to that day on your parents doorstep. After all those years and all that hell, you were still the same girl who needed Mark to step in and help her up. You couldn’t face him after that. The feelings which had surfaced, you forced back down. Your son graduated to second grade and your interactions with Mark dwindled until your son decided to join the school choir. For years, the school choir had been run by a kind old man who had lost his hearing at some point during his tenure. No one had the heart to tell him though. But, before your son’s third grade, the old man announced that that year would be his last. Mark, a music minor, was unanimously elected as his successor, and your son was one of the first kids to sign up the next year. Now, you see Mark on a weekly basis. Thus far you have successfully limited your interactions to polite greetings and small talk. Stepping off the bus, you acknowledge that moving forward this will no longer be the case. The two of you will be working closely until the concert. The feelings you sunk, stir at the prospect, but you force them to still. Mark has always been a pleasant fantasy, but you live in the real world and have dealt with too much shit to indulge in fantasies.

Later that week, you sit hunched over a sewing machine as you curse under your breath. The damn bobbin keeps messing up, and if you have to re-thread the needle one more time, you’re likely to shove the whole thing off the table. Believing the school would have adequate equipment for the task at hand, you left your beautifully functioning sewing machine at home. The mistake would not be repeated again. Next time, you would bring it.

Needle re-threaded, you run the cloth through the machine, only to hear the whir and feel the tell-tale tug. Before the machine can meet the floor, long hands pull it out of your reach. Glancing up, you find Mark standing above you. A smile tugs at his lips, but he forces them to still. He wants to appear serious. “Would you be able to help me with the set pieces? I’ve finished cutting them out. I just need someone a little more artistic to paint them.” Sewing had offered you the opportunity to distance yourself from Mark, but if you spend any more time with that machine, you’ll end up owing the school a new machine. Maybe that’s what you should do with the swear jar money this time around. You muse, chuckling to yourself. “What?” Mark’s eyes catch yours. “Nothing, I was just- it’s nothing. I’ll just get started on those set pieces.” You stand heading over to the cut-outs. The less talking you do the easier all of this will be. You grab a nearby paint brush and bucket and begin outlining the branches. Mark settles next to a fence as an uncomfortable silence falls. “Do you mind if I put on some music?” Mark’s voice breaks the silence. Your brush streaks across the tree leaving an ugly stain. You hadn’t expected him to speak. Determined to escape the awkwardness, you had filled your mind with everything you had to do for work. “No, I don’t mind.” You clear your throat. “It’s fine.” Music starts as you try to fix your mistake. The two of you continue to work, as the music pushes the silence back. However, the awkwardness remains and grows worse as the night drags on. You continually check your phone, hoping hours have ticked by. But only minutes have passed. “Mom!” Your sons voice enters the room, and you glance up from the bush you’re working on. A relieved smiled slips on your face. Today’s torture is coming to an end. “Hey, sweetie. How was studying at Minnie’s?” You ask as you start to gather up the brushes and paint. Not able to physically help with the concert, Minnie’s mom had offered to watch your son while you worked. “I finished all my homework.” He beams. “You did? Good job, kiddo.” “Yes…” A glint appears in his eyes. Pushing off the floor, you cross your arms and nod for him to continue. “Since I finished all my homework, I was wondering if we could go and get some ice cream.” He fixes you with those eyes, and you tell yourself that he earned a treat. You’re not being a pushover. “Okay,” He fist bumps the air before you can finish, “We can get ice cream.” You chuckle as he proceeds to do the dorky victory dance he learned from you. “But first, help me clean up. We don’t want to leave this mess for Mr. Mark.” “Oh, Mr. Mark,” he turns to his teacher, “do you want to get ice cream with us?” The invitation should have been obvious. You should have waited to agree until after you left. Now the invitation hangs in the air, and you can’t face Mark. You can barely face your son for fear he will read too much in your expression. Smoothing your face, you turn to Mark with a simple smile. “You’re more than welcome to come with us.” “Sure, I can always eat ice cream.” He returns the smile. Drawing on a strength you didn’t even know you possessed, you manage to keep the smile on your face and nod. With the three of you working together, you finish the clean up in minutes. Down the street from the school is a local ice cream shop which has been run by the same family for generations. Here you three head for the promised treat. Your son is quick to order chocolate fudge, requesting a second scoop when he thinks you’re not paying attention. He receives one scoop with sprinkles. You request the more moderate vanilla. Mark completes the trio with cookies ‘n cream. Outside the shop, benches and tables sit clustered around a little wishing well. Your son plops onto a chair, and you settle on the bench across from him, failing to realize your mistake until Mark exits the shop with his cone in hand. The cluster your son has chosen only has the chair he occupies and the bench under you, leaving the only available seat beside you. Glancing at your son, you find that glint in his eye as he slowly licks away at his ice cream. “Do you mind?” Mark asks gesturing to the accursed spot. You shake your head scooting over until the arm rest bites into your side. Mark lowers himself, careful to keep an arms width of distance between you two. “Mr. Mark?” Your son asks. Mark motions for him to continue. “Did you really know my mom when she was little?” Sputtering turns to coughing as you choke on your ice cream. Mark pats you gently on the back, but you wave him off. “Sorry.” You cough. “Wrong pipe.” “Ummm…” Mark glances at you, but you wave him off again as you regain your breath. “Uh, yes. We grew up in the same neighborhood.” He turns his attention to your son. “What was mom like when she was little?” “We didn’t know-” “She was very independent,” He cuts you off, “like she is now.” “Really? How so?” “There’s one thing I remember from when we were really young. She would wander away from her house all the time, and the whole neighborhood would know when it happened because her mom would rush out of the house screaming. Everyone would start looking for her, and she would be somewhere different every time. When she finally returned home, her mom would rage at her.” “Mom!” Your son accuses. “And you won’t even let me walk to school by myself.” “Do as I say not as I do. Have you ever heard that expression?” You defend your protectiveness. “I was lucky that nothing happened to me.” Mark clears his throat before taking another bite of ice cream. You eye him. “What?” “You weren’t always lucky.” He mumbles, but you still hear him. At your bewildered expression, Mark continues more clearly. “There was one time I saw you wandering, and there was this guy. He made me feel uneasy, so I went and got my dad. And he reported the man to the police.” The knowledge sends a chill racing down your spine, and you stare at him horrified. “After that, I would always keep an eye on your door, and if you ever went wandering I would follow behind.” “You did?” Clearing his throat, he nods, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. “So you were my mom’s guardian angel?” Mark chuckles. “I wouldn’t say that. I was just worried something might happen.” His focus goes to his ice cream as he continues to chip away at it. You stare at him and then a crack in the sidewalk until your ice cream drips onto your hand. Cursing in your head, you lick up the mess and make quick work of the frozen treat and cone. Your son works more slowly, that glint in his eye ever present, so you hurry him along and excuse yourself from the situation. You need to get home before any other secrets come to light.

At work the next week, you sit through yet another meeting. This one thankfully marks the end of the project you’ve been slaving over for the past month. You wish your boss would show his gratitude for your teams hard work, by not having a meeting. Glancing at your co-workers, you can tell they are of the same mind set. Your boss does end the meeting earlier than usual though which everyone applauds.

As you gather your things and prepare to return to your desk, you hear your name called. Your boss stands on the other side of the room a smile on his face. That smile sends your stomach plummeting. It means more work for you. With this project completed, you had hoped you would receive a reprieve from your overloaded schedule, but you seem to be luckless.

“I’m sorry sir, could you repeat that?” He chuckles at your bewilderment. “I want you to head our new office.” “If I’m not mistaken, that office is in a different country.” He nods. “Of course the promotion comes with a move, but the company would assist with your relocation, and you would be allotted a housing stipend.” The offer is an honor, recognition for all the work you’ve put in. Everyone knew about the new office opening, and the office gossip had all been supposition about who would helm it. You had never given consideration to the idea that it would be you. While work can be exhausting, you are content where you are, and you believed the company was content to keep you where you are. “This is a big change, sir. Could I have some time to think about it?” “Of course, we don’t have to announce anything for another two weeks. Take your time think it over, but I’m sure you’ll find the benefits outweigh any minor inconveniences you face now.” His smile broadens as you nod. Exiting his office, you find your co-workers packing up and saying their farewells. A glance at the clock confirms that the workday has come to an end. You breath a sigh of relief. After that bombshell, you wouldn’t have been able to focus on anything. Grabbing your own bag, you head out of the building to your bus stop. The bus ride home is spent in silence. You watch the world pass by, but notice nothing as your mind weighs the benefits against the “minor inconveniences”. While your boss saw them as minor, you did not see them the same way. Moving meant leaving the apartment you had worked for years to be able to afford. It meant tearing your son from his school and his friends. It meant uprooting the life you had worked so hard to achieve. Did the benefits really outweigh what you would have to give up? You would have a new apartment, probably better than the one you had now, but it wouldn’t be the apartment that you had walked by every day for three years, promising yourself that one day you would live there. Your son would make new friends. The new city would have a good school, maybe a better one than he went to now, but Mark wouldn’t be there. That last thought stills you, and you almost miss your stop. Hoping off the buss, you start towards the school, but the familiar path is a blur as you try to rid Mark from your mind. He doesn’t fit into any of your plans and isn’t one of the “minor inconveniences”. Your relationship with Mark ends at the school gate. As you approach that gate, you find your son standing there talking with Minnie and a few of his other friends. When he notices you, he says his goodbyes and heads towards you. “How about a hug today, kiddo?” You hold your arms open wide, and after a moments hesitation, he walks into them. Squeezing him tight, you breath deeply. “You know I’m the only kid my age whose mom still hugs him?” He mumbles into your shoulder. “That’s either because they don’t want to be hugged or because their moms don’t love them as much as I love you.” You reply, releasing him. He gives you a look, causing you to chuckle. “I was thinking BBQ for dinner tonight. What do you think?” “Really? Yes! Let’s go!” He starts off down the street before you can change your mind.

Sitting at the table waiting for the waitress to bring your drinks, you prepare yourself for the coming conversation. This move will affect him just as much as it affects you. He has a right to know what’s coming and to add his input.

“Mom, what is it?” His question startles you and draws your attention to him. “What?” “You keep staring at nothing and sighing, and you said we could have BBQ tonight. Something is going on.” Your poker face never was the greatest. Nodding, you begin. “I’ve got some good news, but it could also be bad news.” He nods for you to continue. “My boss called me into his office today to offer me a promotion.” His eyes go wide, and he beams at you. “That’s awesome, mom! You’re the best worker at the company. You deserve a promotion. Why is that bad news?” “The promotion means we have to move.” “Where?” “Another country.” Silence. He stares at you, the joy from moments before washed away by this revelation. “Sweetie-” “Mom, we can’t move to another country. What about my friends and my school and our apartment, and everyone here. We can’t leave all of that.” His voice is a squeak, evidencing the boy he still is. He stares at you with those eyes, and you feel your inside crumble. “I know we would have to give up a lot, and I know that would be hard. But, there are a lot of good things that would come with the new job and the move. We would find you a new school, and you can make new friends. I would be making more money which means that we would be able to do more fun things like go on vacations and adventures.” “Would you be working as much?” You’d be working more. The answer shows on you face. He snorts, crossing his arms. “We won’t be going on any adventures. You’ll be too busy working, and I’ll be home alone with no friends.” “Kiddo, you’ll make-” His glare cuts you off. He’s angry, and he has every right to be. “I think we should both give this some serious thought, and then we can talk about it again.” His response is a huff.

Working with your sewing machine is a relief. If you had to struggle with the demon school machine, you would have gone on a rampage. The promotion has been dominating your thoughts, robbing you of sleep and leaving you peevish. You’ve weighed the pros and cons a thousand times and come to no satisfactory conclusion. Your son is firm in his resolution to stay and refusing to speak to you which irritates your aggravated state. You’re a toe stub away from a full melt down.

A knock, knock on your work table draws your eyes to Mark who is standing above you with a two steaming mugs in his hand. “Tea?” He offers. While you should say “no” and return to your work because being around Mark isn’t helping your situation, you straighten, stretching the muscles in your back, and reach for the mug. The warmth spreads through your aching fingers, and you sigh as you breath in the tea’s earthy smell. The steam caresses your face, relaxing the muscles. “Thank you.” You mumble as you bring the mug to your lips. “You know even Okoye needed the help of the Dora Milaje when she took on Killmonger.” He states as he perches on the edge of the table. You snort, nearly spilling tea down your front. “What?” “Okoye is the greatest warrior Wakanda has, but she was still able to accept the help of her fellow warriors.” He says, taking a sip from his own mug. “I’m sorry. Are you using a Black Panther analogy to tell me that it’s okay to accept help?” You raise an eyebrow at Mark as you lean back in your chair. Mark smiles and shrugs his shoulders. “It got you to smile didn’t it?” The smile, he referenced, thins to a line, but you can’t keep the edges from tugging upward. “So it at least accomplished one of it’s tasks.” “And the other was to get me to accept help?” “To let you know that you can.” His eyes hold yours, and you feel yourself falling back through time to that day on your parent’s doorstep. The last day you had accepted anyone’s help. “Are you offering again?” Your eyes fall from him as you set the mug on the table, your fingers fiddling with it’s handle. “I’ve never stopped.” His voice is light, and you can hear the smile in it. But the words lay heavy on your shoulders. “Mark-” But you don’t know what to say after that. Does he want you to apologize? Do you want to accept his help? You don’t even know what you want? “I hear congratulations are in order.” He says sparing you from your unfinished thought. “What?” “Your son told me that you’ve been offered a promotion.” Mark explains. The action shouldn’t surprise you. Your son has been attached to Mark since his first day of school. He’s the first solid male figure in his life. “What else did he say?” Mark pauses, his eyes drifting to a corner of the room. “You said it was okay to accept your help, Mark.” You don’t look at him as you speak, and the words burn on the way out. But you say them in the hopes of alleviating your ever mounting stress. “He won’t talk to me. I’d like to know how he’s feeling.” “He doesn’t want to move. He’s afraid he’ll be alone because he won’t have any friends and you’ll be too busy to spend time with him.” Your son is shy. A truth which you have buried as you’ve contemplated your decision. His fear is well-founded, and it rips at your chest. “You don’t think I should take it.” The irritation that’s been gnawing at you bleeds into your words, turning them from a question to an accusation. Mark holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender, and with a simple smile says, “I think you should do what you think is right.” He relaxes his arms, folding his hands on his lap. His smile and demeanor fit his words, supporting them, but his eyes don’t. His smile doesn’t reach them and an emotion resides in them which sets your heart racing. The emotions which you have been suppressing for years burst forth, and you find yourself asking, “How do you feel about this, Mark?” The question encompasses more than this moment and this decision. The question goes back years to when you were kids growing up in the same neighborhood. You ask him how he feels, but really you want to know why he followed you all those days, why he offered you a hand and a place to stay, why he was with your son at the principle’s office, and why he keeps showing up in your life. “I don’t want you to go.” The answer is simple and soft. No loud declaration or demand. “What?” “I’ve never wanted you to go, but I understand that just because I want you to stay doesn’t mean you should.” He smiles, shattering everything inside of you. “Why?” The question is pointless and self-serving, but you have to know, want to hear him say it. “Because I love you. I have since that first day I followed you on your wanderings.” Tears leak from your eyes, evidence of your wreckage within. “I-I...” You stutter as your brain shifts through the rubble for a response. “I have to go.” You stand up, grab your bag, and run like you did back then like you always do.

“It’s time to go.” Your son informs you. They’re the only words he’s spoken to you in the last week.

You catch his eyes in the bathroom mirror and give him a smile as you nod. “I’ll be ready in just a minute.” His lips remain a thin line as he turns and heads for the door. A sigh forces the air from your chest and slumps your shoulders. After a final check of your make-up, you head out of the bathroom and towards the front door where your son is waiting. He fixes his eyes on the door as he waits for you to slip on your shoes, and he is out the door the second they are on. He keeps two steps ahead of you the whole way to the school. “How much longer do you plan to keep this up? If we move, are you never going to speak to me again?” “You’re going to take the job.” He whirls around to face you with tears welling in his eyes. Clearing your throat, you respond, “I didn’t say that. I just wanted to know.” “If I say ‘yes’, can we stay here?” Hope has replaced the tears, and you find it wrenches your heart more. “We should hurry. I don’t want you to be late.” You start to walk again, and your son plods along behind you.

The concert is beautiful. The costumes, the set, the singing. Everything turned out perfectly. But you notice none of it. Your attention is split between your son who whispers and giggles with his friends during each song break and Mark who directs the boys with a patient smile.

Since the night he confessed, you have kept your distance from him, not even helping with the final set up for the concert. Mark never texted or called about your absence. He allowed you your space like he always does. Staring at the most important person in your life and the person who has always been beside you, you make your decision. The weight which has rested on your shoulders since your boss offered you the promotion lifts instantly. You exhale all the stress and smile as you sit back and enjoy the rest of the concert. When the last song is sung and the children take their bows, you stand up and applaud with the rest of the parents. Your son finds you in the crowd. His smile pushes his cheeks into his eyes, and he practically glows with pride. But all too soon, memory returns, and he whips his attention from you. You continue to applaud though until the children take their final bow and exit the stage. Leaving your seat, you head back stage to share your decision with your son. Before you can reach him though, you run into Mark. He freezes when he sees you, and you mirror the behavior. Clearing his throat, he nods to you and continues on his way. “Mark.” He stops. “Can I talk to you?” He turns his eyes finding yours. The way he looks at you stills your heart and stops your breath. He’s searching, and you wonder what he sees. Whatever he saw causes him to nod again as he walks towards you. He leads you to a small alcove which allows you both a modicum of privacy. Standing a few feet apart, Mark starts talking, “If this is about what I said the other night, I want to-” You hold up a hand stopping him. “I’m sorry.” You apologize, staring him straight in the eyes though your mind screams in protest. “I’m sorry I ran then and that I ran all those years ago. I tell myself that I’m strong and independent but most of the time I’m just scared. And I act out of fear. Even as I say all of this to you, I’m scared,” you release a shuddering breath but continue, “but I’m tired of letting my fear control me. I love you too, Mark. I’ve loved you since before I can remember.” The truth flies from your lips leaving you with only fear as you study Mark’s face. He smiles, not big and bright but small and sad. Watching him, your heart plummets. “What I said that night is the truth. I love you, but I know that just because I love you doesn’t mean I can stop you from doing what is best for you.” You blink as your mind works to unravel the meaning behind his words. His response was unexpected and unwanted. Searching his eyes, realization strikes. “The job. You’re talking about the job.” You chuckle to yourself which furrows Mark’s brow. “I’m not taking the job, Mark.” “If it’s because of me…” You both know the end of the sentence. You smile up at him, and yours is big and bright. “It’s not because of you. Well, it’s not fully because of you.” Your smile eases as sensibility asserts itself. “I would be lying if I said you didn’t play into my decision. “The truth is it really is an incredible job. It comes with more money and more opportunities. And for those reasons, I’d be a fool not to take it. But it also comes with more hours and more traveling which means less time I get to spend with my son. You pause, your eyes becoming unfocused as your mind travels back to your early years. “When he was little, and I was putting myself through that hell; I told myself it’ll be worth it. If I work hard now and put in the hours, when he’s older I won’t have to. I can have time with my son.” Glancing back up at Mark, you continue, “If I take this job, I’ll have lied to myself all those years. I only have so much time before my son goes off to live his own life. I want to spend all the time I can with him until that day. “After that day,” you shrug your shoulder, “I’ll take a job with money and opportunities and hours and traveling. So I guess, I’m not saying no. I’m saying not now.” “Not now.” Mark nods with a true smile. “Not now.” You repeat returning his smile. “So what happens now then?” “I wouldn’t be opposed to dinner.” You cock a brow. “I also like movies. Video games occasionally. They’re really good stress relievers.” Mark snorts and nods. “I’m free for dinner most nights. And I also like movies and video games.” “Do I get to go to dinner and the movies and play video games too?” Both of your heads turn to face your son who stands in front of the alcove, smiling up at you two with his hands clasped behind his back, a familiar glint in his eye. “How long have you been there?” You ask. “Long enough to know that you two love each other and we’re not moving.” He smiles up at you. You’re caught between wanting to scold him and wanting to laugh. “And you didn’t think you should announce your presence?” “No.” Mark laughs, and you glare at him, but he continues. Shaking your head, you rub your eyes. “I’m hungry. Are you both hungry?” Glancing between the two, you find them both agreeing. “Good. Then let’s go to dinner, and we can talk about all of this there.” Your son smiles wide and heads for the door. As you start to follow him, you feel a hand slip into yours. Mark meets your eyes and offers you a simple smile. You return the smile and fall into step with him as you two head after your son.

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vinylexams · 5 years

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Heavy Heavy Low Low - Courtside Seats to the Greatest Fuck of All Time⁠

⁠ @heavyheavylowlow38 #heavyheavylowlow #hhll #deathwish @deathwishinc⁠ ⁠ I’ve been lucky as hell recently to snag insider info on some killer reissues and this one is no exception. You all already know how much I love HHLL, especially Turtle Nipple…, and through serendipity I got connected with Robbie from the band a few months back. I got to hear about how they are coming back to life after some years focusing on other projects, growing up and growing out, and evolving as musicians and artists in the process. They’ve worked with Twelve Gauge Records to put Courtside Seats on vinyl for the very first time and after they announced it on their platforms and immediately sold it out, they’re pressing another batch that you and the HHLL lovers in your life can and should snag before that pressing sells out, too!⁠ ⁠ What’s even more exciting is that I got to pick Robbie’s brain in typical VE fashion and he’s indulged me with all sorts of info about what they’re up to, whether or not we can expect new music, and some feel-good stories about huffing air duster and ripping shit up in an old warehouse on the California coast. Here it is in its unedited glory, but first…head to the website to pre-order your copy and then head to Robbie’s Indiegogo campaign to learn more about his upcoming short firm that’s scored by Nick from Tera Melos! ⁠https://deathwishinc.com/products/heavy-heavy-low-low-courtside-seats https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/morning-deliveries-short-film#/

INTERVIEW

First and foremost, it’s been a minute since we’ve heard from Heavy Heavy Low Low and then out of nowhere you sprang back to life in 2019. What motivated you all to pick up this project again? I’m not sure what motivated it. We had always been trying to jumpstart the whole thing again for some time and I think that it might have been a case of everyone’s lives slowing down and examining that time with a weird reverence. I can only speak for myself. The boys are all in school or doing their own thing.

I imagine you’ve all been working on different projects since HHLL went on hiatus. Do you have anything that you or the rest of the band have worked on that you’d love us to know about? Danny has gotten pretty popular in the Kendama world. Chris is studying various forms of martial arts. Roo is endlessly going to school and currently scoring independent films. Chip is heavily involved in competitive fishing. I’ve been making short films when the situation and my wallet allow it. We’re all crazy excited about finally owning Courtside Seats on vinyl for the first time. Aside from bringing that album onto the vinyl medium, the pre-order page notes that there’s new artwork, too. What can we expect from that? When we made the CD we weren’t expecting to sell any really.. I did the art and Matthew printed them all at his job. Him and I folded every crease, glued the o-cards and vacuum sealed them all. I think it sold out almost completely at the record release show. We made the same amount of records as we did the original cd (500). The artwork for the original CD pressing was done on sketch paper without any comprehension of what could be done with drawn art and a scanner. Matthew was the computer wizard and back then, young and silly, it was all done on the cuff. The new art is a bit more modern and plays with mortality. Court-side Seats to The Greatest Fuck of All Time being a front seat view of a an ordinary, bumpy ride through life. I’m proud of it. What’s it like to bring back an album from the earliest parts of the band’s career? Do you still identify with the music? It is odd. It was a truly surreal time and place. We were out of our fucking minds. We recorded it in Mountain View, Ca in this giant warehouse that tapered into gutted office spaces. It was a weird white collar tomb on the outskirts of Silicon Valley right before the real tech boom. In the big part of the warehouse where we’d enter there were giant mounds of clothes meant to be donated to some third world country. We’d burrow tunnels in them and do huge dramatic flips from pike to pile. There was an aisle of outdated medical equipment waiting to be sent that we’d stalk through in the dark. It was a strangely magic place. Once you got through the warehouse you’d get to these office stations that had been fashioned into recording studios and that’s where we birthed this thing. We were so misguided. The amount of compressed air that we inhaled should have killed us. I contribute a significant drop in IQ to that shit. Smoking copious amounts of weed from gravity bongs. Recording with a hip hop producer, Deegan. Never a disagreement. It still feels like it was some strange purgatory of youth. I don’t miss it, but it was beautiful. Does this mean there’s hope of having Everything’s Watched, Everyone’s Watching on vinyl sometime, too? So, there was a guy who was very adamant about putting that record out on vinyl. We had a dialogue going for the better part of a year and apparently he had been in contact with Rhino Music and Warner, the two companies that hold the licensing to that album. He had received word that it’d cost an impressive amount of money, but he still wanted to shoulder it. Mind you, this dude didn’t have a label, he just wanted to put this thing out and apparently hadnt thought that all out. Time goes by, I’m waiting, not worrying one way or the other. One day I get a link from a friend, a Christian college website detailing that dude had been arrested for kidnapping and assault. Very sad situation. Dude seemed semi normal. Anyway, that was the last effort I’d seen put into that. I’d love to contribute new art to that release if any go-getter wants to try their luck. I’ve loved everything HHLL put out, but Turtle Nipple is in my top 10 list of favorite albums of all time. What was the writing the recording process for it like and how did the band feel about the new creative directions on it? EWEW was half previously recorded material re-recorded and half material written a year prior, kind of forced into a studio with producers we had no previous rapport with. Those producers/engineers were incredible human beings (RIP Tom Pfaffle! See you in the mindfog) but we were very young punk kids thrown into a foreign land where we had our agents visiting and there were platinum records on the wall and it was a total barrage of privilege and excess. It was beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t feel soul in that record. Turtle Nipple is a dense trip through time and the record I’m most proud of in our discography. I don’t remember how long we had to record it, I do remember that it was the only time we’d been given to experiment and layer our sensibilities in an environment that catered to them. Sam (Pura) was a perfect conduit to that vibe and time and space and it really came out just how it should have. I think about that album as a 70s exploitation directors filmography.. it veers violently from genre to genre and while most of the stories are fiction and far from personal testimony, theirs a peek into some shared insanity contained throughout. George Cosmatos wandering through a punk club on an edible. I think that that album is our bands true personality. Sam is a member of our band whether he’s playing with us or engineering for us. He gets us. I love the idea of an alternate reality where we had lasted a bit longer and did an album with Steve Albini. He’d probably hate us, but I love those ‘What If?’ Scenarios. I’ll ask the question EVERYONE has been asking so it’s on the record somewhere: Does this mean we can expect new material or a new album soon? Maybe even a tour? We have a new EP in the works. We have some of it recorded with Sam. We’ve posted a couple clips on Instagram. We’re incredibly busy and spread out in our personal lives. Chip in TX, Dan in FL, Roo in OR, Rob and Chris in CA. Adulthood is a bitter, pulpy drink! We are going to be playing again. We won’t be leaving the West Coast. We had our fill of middle America and the travel involved. We have talked to some of our buds from our early days of touring about playing alongside (opening for) them for a limited run in 2020. I think that qualifies as a tour. Also, if anyone wants to fly us to Europe to play a festival in 2020, we’d like that. It’ll be an interesting year. How does it feel to be welcomed back by so many adoring fans who still love your music and are hoping for more after a long hiatus? It’s incredibly humbling. I have heard from people throughout the years about how we had affected them and it was always just strange to me. I’m pretty self deprecating, so I just don’t understand how some shit I wrote could mean much to anyone. My mind is just a shotgun blast of panic. I guess all of ours are? I love my band mates and their talents, though. So I understand the sorta sirens draw to the greater extent. I think they only got to show themselves slightly, too. Weird existence. Give us a piece of band trivia you’ve never shared in an interview before! Gees. There is a step-in part to most 15 passenger vans. It is a black, hard plastic. It meets with where you close the sliding door. When we had no bottles to pee in, we would just piss in ‘the step’. This thing was a den of germicidal activity. Trash and piss I don’t think we ever truly cleaned that thing. What’s odd is that we so rarely got ill on tour. The Step kept us healthy on a steady diet of trash and piss and general scum. Finally, this isn’t a question but the hidden track on Turtle Nipple is a fucking masterpiece and I wanted you to know. Thank you! I think that may have been my idea to add some weird 70s funk into an old track of ours. I think it turned out cool, but I think it betrays our vibe on that album! I wish it’d have devolved into some weird, primitive Altered States shit.

#heavyheavylowlow #hhll #deathwish #vinylrecords #vinylcollectionpost #metal #nowplaying #vinyls #recordcollector #vinyladdict #vinyligclub #vinylcollective #vinylexams

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