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russian-romanova · 5 years ago

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barefoot

title: barefoot

pairing: dad!tony stark x reader

word count: 4.7k

warnings: mentions of cancer, sketchy timelines, major + minor character death, angst, spoilers for the whole mcu, me not knowing what twelve-year-olds do in school nowadays

notes: this is based on ‘forest fire’ by brighton. i literally had the original idea for this over a year ago and it’s so fucking cheesy.

summary: tony has never been the best father, he knows that, but he sure as hell spent these years trying to raise you right. it took you years to realize how much he really meant to you, and it seems a realization that comes too late.

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2 0 0 9

“What’s it like?”

At your words, your dad looked up. The two of you had been hiking as part of his Iron Man work out in some trails. You had been only nine when your dad became Iron Man, but you had been all for it. It was the coolest thing to you, and Tony had a hunch that you would have been excited even if he wasn’t Iron Man. You were just the sweetest daughter he could have ever asked for, he was sure of it.

Tony didn’t stop walking before responding, “What’s what like, bean?”

“Being Iron Man.” You answered casually. “A superhero.”

Now Tony stopped walking. He was behind you in some trail in a small forest. The hike had actually been your idea. He had been avidly adding assorted workouts to his day-to-day schedule, which was just another side effect of being Iron Man. As an eleven-year-old, you were still the definition of codependent. Tony hadn’t expected anything else, really, but he hadn’t expected juggling Stark Industries and Iron Man and fatherhood to be so difficult.

You were two when you met Tony. He and your mom had a very quick thing after some party and never planned on talking to each other again. However, what had been planned as a ‘let’s-bang-and-never-think-about-this-again’ became ‘holy-shit-I’m-pregnant.’ After a few months of going back and forth, your future mother decided not to tell Tony. It was no secret that he probably wasn’t the best parental figure, and it was hard for you to understand those little things.

It was all working out. She had you smoothly, and you grew up a shining success. She hated to admit it, but she could see some of Tony in there too.

Currently, you had noticed your dad stopped walking and paused yourself, turning around to look at him. He was looking down at you, thinking. You were so smart, and his constant confirmation of this fact was the multitude of questions you seemed to ask.

“It’s different,” He answered cautiously. “But super cool, you know?”

“Yeah,” You squeaked out, looking up at your father. “I know.”

“I get to fly around, which is really-” Tony paused, looking for the words to describe the feeling of flight to a child. He chuckled for a moment before responding, “It’s freeing. Like running really fast but also swinging super high.”

You nodded slowly, processing the comparison that your father had given you. Your mind worked quickly, and if he squinted Tony was positive he could have seen gears moving just beyond your eyes. You were his daughter, there was no doubt about it.

Really, the parts of himself were the first thing Tony saw of you.

Your mom and you had arrived at his doorstep and he instantly knew who you must have been. It was unmistakable, really. You had the same face shape, the same slope of your nose, the same curious sparkle in your eyes. Your chubby hands held onto your mom’s fingers the way one might hold onto a rope or edge of rock — without thinking of anything but the unknown fear of letting go.

“Hello Tony,” Your mother hadn’t been in the best of moods, but she kept up the facade for you, even in front of Tony. “This is Y/N.” She was straight to the point; she always had been. Tony found a smile tug habitually at his mouth.

“Hi, Y/N.” She squatted down and gave you a little wave. Your hands had moved from your mother’s fingers to her leg, arms clinging to whatever bits of denim you could get from the tight grip of her jeans. Your eyes stared back at him, and he was surprised at how long someone who seemed so shy held his eye contact. “Um, is she-” Tony trailed off, looking towards your mother.

“Yes.” She looked away from you for a moment, only to look at Tony with eyes that were, for the first time during the meeting, filled with the same fear of the unknown as yours were. “We need to talk.”

It went without saying, really. Of course, they needed to talk, she had shown up at his door — he didn’t even question how she had gotten all the way to the front door without him knowing — with a small child that was most definitely his.

“I wanted her to meet you.” Your mother spoke softly, picking you up as she walked in after him. “And you can, definitely. You should, Tony.” She added. It was reasonable for her to assume he would be uninterested in your existence, but he was the opposite. Childbirth and the internal formation of children had always been a secret fascination of his as the one thing his science couldn’t recreate or even do, not really. Even though he was a genius, Tony Stark wasn’t a woman.

“Yeah,” He breathed out his response. He wasn’t really listening to her, but the whole of his mind was focused on you.

Your mom looked at Tony, smiling a little. “Is there somewhere she can be that’s somewhat child safe? So we can talk alone.”

Tony nodded, breaking eye contact with you to look around. “Yeah, I can have my assistant Pepper look after her for a while.” You watched him as he yelled out the word that you recognized to be a seasoning, looking in constant fascination as a child does. Slowly, you let your eyes look away from the man in front of you to look at your mother. She was looking at the man with a look she used often on you, and you silently wondered if your mom was here to put this man in a time out or give him a scolding.

At once, a new face entered the scene. She had long hair which was tied back and up in a ponytail, and you looked now to her. She seemed confused, looking from your mom to you to the man.

“Ms. Potts,” Tony began, holding a hand out to gesture towards your mom and you. “This is Mira and Y/N.”

“Hello,” Your mother nodded politely, her hands too full to offer one to shake.

Pepper turned towards Tony, squinting a little as she whispered words of confusion. The two spoke in whispers they thought she couldn’t hear as your mother’s eyes fell upon you.

“Mommy, I’m hungry.” Your small voice complained in words likely only your mother could understand.

She glanced down at you pitifully. “Oh, honey. I don’t have any snacks.”

“We have plenty of food,” Pepper spoke up, having moved on from her discussion from Tony. “I can take her if the two of you need some time alone.”  Your mother nodded, pausing to explain the situation to you. You were shy, and looked towards the floor, choosing to steal glances of Pepper through your eyelashes rather than direct contact.

“She’s so shy, I’m sorry.” Your mother gave an apology accompanies by a breathy laugh. That was one thing, Tony noted as he watched the situation unfold with slight amusement, you did not get from him. “Here, do you want to just take her? I promise she’ll warm up to you.”

Pepper smiled warmly as a confirmation, walking closer to grasp you out of your mother’s arms. You didn’t fuss, simply looking at your mother for as long as you could before silently turning your head up to Pepper as you left the room.

Tony and your mother stood in silence for a moment, before Tony spoke up. “Would you like to sit down?”  

“Yes, thank you.” Your mother followed Tony to a set of armchairs where they took seats across from each other.

“She’s really cute,” Tony said, unsure of what else to say. And it was true. Tony had already fallen for the two-year-old girl who hadn’t said but half-a-dozen words, none of which were directed to him.

“I know.” Your mother laughed a little, looking down as she crossed her legs. She was a little thinner than Tony had remembered. He tilted his head, trying to read her.

“You look good,” He added, pushed a little for confirmation that something was different.

“I have cancer, Tony.”

Tony froze at the sudden words. Cancer. How had he been so dumb? He hadn’t even seen your mother in three years, but he instantly felt heartbroken. He had liked her a lot, even if it had been for such a short amount of time.

His eyes drifted once again to her frame, the way her long grey shirt seemed too big for her body. Her long arms were wrapped around her stomach in a self-comforting motion, and Tony felt this sudden and overwhelming need to give her a hug.

“Nothing treatment wise is working, so far. I wanted to tell you because Y/N has nowhere else to go. It’s a horrible burden to suddenly place on you, but I think you need to know. To be there and prepared in case…” She trailed off. Tony nodded slowly, unsure of what to say.

“I’m so sorry, Mira.” He looked at her.

Your mom shook her head. “Don’t give me that look. And don’t apologize, Tony. It’s not your fault.”

He looked down for a moment before letting his eyes drift up to the door that you played behind. “Does she know?”

“Y/N? No. Not yet.” Your mom shook her head as she followed his gaze. “I’m sorry, this is a lot for you, isn’t it? I gave you a lot at once.”

  “No, no.” Tony lied, shaking his head a little. “I will try my best, I swear. You’re gonna be okay, Mira, but if anything happens to you-” Tony searched for the words. “You can trust me.”  

She nodded, forcing the lump in her throat down as she looked at Tony through watery eyes. “I know.”

Thinking of Mira’s face in so much detail while looking at your face, a little red from the hike and eyebrows furrowed as you listened to his answer, he realized that every bit of your face that he didn’t see in the mirror, he could see in your mother’s face.

“Can I fly someday?” You looked up at him, swinging your arms back and forth. Tony smiled at you, walking closer to ruffle your hair before wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“You can do anything you want. C’mon, kid.”

2 0 1 2

Tony Stark looked down at the small device that was essentially warning him of his death. He knew his health had been declining, but between the Expo, Stark Industries, being Iron Man, and being the father of a stubborn twelve-year-old, his own well being had really been the least of his problems.

It was a little scary, sure, but he found it was easier to ignore and push it to the back of his mind. That’s how the Starks seemed to work the best, after all. Howard had been that way, and Tony hated it but he saw that in himself every struggle. He hoped it wouldn’t move to you either.

You were twelve and happy often, with friends and family that loved you, and the ignorance that adults still lent you. He couldn’t tell you that he was sick and probably close to dying, because he couldn’t let it come to that. God, there were some days he felt like giving up, just staying in bed or running away to Hawaii by himself and never coming back. But then you would come home from school with some rambling story about your day at school, other students’ antics fresh in your mind. You would get this excentric look in your eyes as you spoke, inspired and excited. Those were the times Tony thought you would become an author, spinner of words.

Or else he would have a particularity harsh day, only for you to send him some crazy text that made sense only to the two of you, filled with unnecessary emojis and too many adjectives.

Your face or your words would return him back to life then, and he would feel okay again. He had done this for you for almost ten years now, and there was no reason to give up now. It was hard, yes, but he would fight this and win just as he had fought and won Obadiah, and just as he had seemingly fought and won Whiplash. He would do it because he had a little girl to return to at the end of the day and because he couldn’t let himself forget that.

“Hey Dad, how do you find the slope of a line?” Your voice met him as he walked into the kitchen, the small device tucked away safely. You were bent over the kitchen table, eyes not leaving your red notebook you had laid out for math. The eraser of your pencil bobbed up and down as you tapped out a steady rhythm on your paper. Maybe you could be a musician, Tony thought for a moment.

“Uh, rise over run.” He pulled open the fridge door.

There was silence from you for a moment. “In English?”

“Do you have two points? On your graph?”

He could practically hear you searching. “Yeah. This one is at three and two and this one is at six and three.”

“Okay, so you’re gonna subtract the first y value from the second y value-”

“Three from two.”

“Right,” Tony found the yogurt he was looking for in the fridge and pulled it out before walking over to you. “That’s rise. You do the same with the x values for the bottom and cancel out the negative signs.”

“So…” You paused, catching up in your work. “Three.” It wasn’t a question, the answer came with a Stark’s confidence.

Tony nodded. “Regular genius.”

“Thank you, dad.” You smiled at him teasingly. The happy look on your face seemed to make the pocketed device weigh twice as much as it had.

Tony forced a cheery smile in response. “Anytime, kiddo.”

2 0 1 8

The compound had been quiet for what was close to a month.

Thanos had happened, and it had been so painful. A total loss, devastating and monumental. You had been in Wakanda when it happened, left behind by your dad as he flew after young Peter Parker in an attempt to save him. Bruce had called Steve Rogers and the group of you had slinked off to Wakanda.

There was more to it than that, but details bled together and none of them really mattered at this point. You had lost to Thanos. He had succeeded in his goal of finding the six infinity stones -- not that you really understood what those were either, you just went along with it -- and had snapped. The simple action had made 50% of the universe’s population disappear, plenty of them before your eyes. You were lucky in many ways -- your oldest friends seemed alright and you survived it all. The bad news rung deep and more clear than the happy, however. Your father had not returned, and all of the Avengers were left to believe he was dead.

No transmissions, no news. Nothing from space no matter how hard you tried. If he hadn’t vanished in the snap, your dad must have died some other way up there. You were alone, and it was too hard to face as a truth.

You had been lying awake in bed when a noise began outside, something loud and obnoxious. For a moment, you thought it would pass by and fade out again, but it only seemed to get louder -- and brighter.

“Hey, Y/N, I think you’re gonna want to see this.” Rhodey knocked on your door, his voice coming out rushed.

You groaned. “Rhodey, I just wanna sleep.”

“Y/N,” The man whom you thought of as your uncle paused, letting silence fill the air as he searched for words. “It’s your dad’s ship.”

You were barefoot in the rush to get outside.

You were faster than Rhodey, who let you pass him in your mad rush to meet the other Avengers outside. The wind was pressing against your back, raging as if it was a hurricane. “Oh my god,” Your breathy words were lost in the wind. “It’s Dad.” You needed no confirmation. It took a moment before he finally came into your view, but your heart shattered the moment you saw him. He looked horrible.

“Dad!” Your voice came out in more of a relieved scream than a shout, and you stumbled towards him.

He looked up as best as he could. “Hey, kid. You get taller?”

The words were so much like your dad, yet you didn’t care about what he said in the least. You were just so overwhelmingly happy to see him that words seemed pointless and trivial. Still worried this might be a dream, you crashed into Tony with a hug. Steve, who had been helping Tony stand, gave you the warning to be careful. None of this mattered, not anymore. You gripped the clothing on your dad’s back, tears already bubbling out. “We thought you were dead, dad. I thought you were dead.”

2 0 1 4

Your dad shot up in bed, his ears perked up naturally as he listened for what awoke him.

A blood-curling scream — your scream, he quickly would realize — echoed through the walls and bounced to his room. He didn’t even have time to think as he threw off the covers, his feet hitting the cold wood of his bedroom floor. “Y/N!” Your name escaped his lips as his hands hit the door frame, tired fingers making wild grabs for the doorknob, remembering mostly from memory as his eyes were making slow progress adjusting.

Your scream continued, and Tony ran faster than he could brake as he skidded towards your room. He hadn’t shouted your name again, but once his mind had cleared he had figured out what was going on.

The doorknob to your room was cold as Tony grabbed it, slowing down to calm his own breathing as he walked in, his eyes landing on you. His speed quickened again, walking over to you and placing his hands on your shoulders. It wasn’t even something he really had to think about anymore, and your name came out of his mouth like he had to help you like this every night.

It took a few seconds, but your eyes finally shot open. There was the momentary panic of waking up, not knowing where you are or who’s with you, but it quickly faded into familiarity as your dad rubbed a hand on your arm. You were okay because he said it; you were awake because he told you so.

After a moment of silence to steady your breathing, Tony asked, “What was it? The usual?” His words were hushed in a tone of voice he reserved only for you.  You nodded slightly, causing your dad to pull you closer. “Well then, I guess that calls for the usual treatment.”

To anyone else, Tony was not a touchy-feely kind of guy. He gave handshakes at most, and one would wonder if he hugged his family or simply high-fived them. The answer: Tony Stark gave the best hugs in the universe.

You were lucky he was your dad, you realized this as he held you after every one of these nightmares. He loved you, and he cared so deeply for you that sometimes nothing else mattered. These nightmares were the worst things to happen to you then, but somehow your dad made them so much better. Even if he wasn’t Iron Man, he would have been a superhero to you.

2 0 2 3

You had lost. Jesus Christ, everyone else around you was saying they won, and that he won it for them, but you didn’t believe them. Thanos was gone, yes. The rest of the Avengers had returned and for the most part, everyone was okay. You should have been happy, at least a little relieved.

Tony Stark was dead, so how could you feel as though you won? Your father, the one person you felt you could always relate with was dead. He had died in that goddamn Iron Man suit that you had spent years admiring, and he had spent years out of. When you had discovered that Pepper was pregnant five years prior, your dad had come up to you and sworn that he would never step foot in that Iron Man costume again, that he wanted you to lock it with a code you kept secret so he couldn’t get into it.

Of course, when the time had come you had bent to his will and given up the code. There was hope for the first time in years, and it was a foreign feeling that delighted you. The possibility that you could keep all you had now and somehow fix what had been broken in the past made you drunk with the hope, giddy with the idea of joy.

And you had been close, so close. Natasha hadn’t returned in the search for the soul stone, but then you saw it as a sacrifice that needed to happen. It crushed you and you cried for three hours straight, yes, but at the end of the day you saw how someone needed to do it, and Natasha was too nice to let anyone else even think about it. But there was no way to rationalize the loss of your dad.

The funeral had been busy. He was respected and loved, Steve had read off of a prepared speech, and the words echoed through the crowd. There were faces you saw every day, faces you hadn’t seen in years, and a few people you hadn’t even met before. That was so wonderful, you would realize years later, but at the time it seemed nothing could be wonderful at all.

The dock was empty by now. People had lingered for a while, some longer than others, but everyone went back in the house sooner or later, to reminisce or calm down. Everyone but you.

You squatted down at the edge of the dock, carefully of your tight dress and black heels. Your hands couldn’t quite reach the water from the edge of the dock, and you were reminded of the times your dad would sit you on one of his workbenches and would have to help you down. You felt so small and helpless all over again and just needed someone to help you down. With one hand dangling towards the water, you used your other one to cover the noises coming out of your mouth at the thoughts.

“I’m so lost, Dad,” you admitted in a choked sob. “I’m so lost without you.”

You bent your chin towards your neck in an attempt to hide your tears. From who, you weren’t sure. Perhaps you felt, somewhere deep down, that the piece of your dad that was floating away was watching you as your father would have, and you didn’t want to feel small in front of him. You had never been worried about that, but you were different now. Even if your dad had gotten out okay, you would have been different. Almost losing him the first time had made you sadder, those five years had made you more mature, and the final battle against Thanos has made you harder.

Maybe, you realized, crying meant he was really gone and you would rather give up than admit that he wasn’t ever coming back.

2 0 1 6

You were thirteen when you saw your dad the most vulnerable he had ever been.

It wasn’t unusual for screams of your own to wake your dad. As you became older, the nightmares became less frequent and you were able to be your own comfort. Your dad had taught you how to wake up when a dream was becoming a nightmare, and Pepper made sure you always had a stash of candy and a flashlight in your bedstand for comfort.

You woke up to screams tonight, however. Thinking at first that it was you, panic and embarrassment washed over your body. You shot up instantly, your hands flying to your mouth in a habit to quiet yourself. As your hands brushed your closed mouth, however, you realized you were silent.

Quickly, you connected the dots as your feet brought themselves out of bed. Pepper wasn’t home, so you needed to be there for your dad. There was a selfish moment of debating — you were tired, and maybe there was a threat that he wouldn’t want you there for anyway so you should just stay in your room — but you quickly erased them from your head. He was your dad, for Christ’s sake. He would do the same for you.

Both of your hands gripped the doorknob as you pulled open the door, eyes scanning the hallway before walking out.

You weren’t sure what would make your dad scream so loud, but you had an internal hunch. Your steps were barefoot and swift, quiet against the dark wood floors. The hallway was quiet now, the scream seeming to have been single. Pausing a second time at your dad’s door, you wondered if you had maybe imagined it, and going in now would just be dumb.

From inside the room, breathing filled the room. Not a steady pattern of sleeping breathing, no, this was the post-nightmare quick breathing that you recognized so well in yourself. Knocking on the door only brought the breathing to a brief pause, but no answer followed. You let yourself in.

Your dad sat in bed, his face damp and red. His eyes were already free of any potential sleep that had been in them just minutes before, and the bedsheets were thrown and pushed in all directions. “Y/N? You okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah, Dad I heard you-” Scream. You trailed off, unsure if he wanted to hear the word out loud. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Tony nodded, motioning for you to come closer. The small action spoke what you knew was the truth, that Tony Stark was not fine.

You moved closer, sitting next to him on the bed as he steadied his breathing. There was silence for a moment, your presence helping Tony in itself. “Do you want to talk about it?” You asked softly, head leaning against his chest.

Tony paused for a moment, memories running like a television program behind his glossy eyes. “Not really,” He admitted, in part because it was the truth and in part because he didn’t want to put you in that position. He was the dad, the parent. He was supposed to take care of you and be the strong one, he had promised to Mira what felt like centuries ago. God, he couldn’t imagine what the years before you felt like. How did he survive without you?

“Okay,” You nodded, unsure of what to say next. “I love you, dad.”

Tony’s heart melted at the words. God, you had him wrapped around your finger and dangling there. He was so proud of you it almost burst out of his chest like a ray of light.

“I love you too, kid,” Tony said softly, a smile on his lips. Pausing in thought, Tony finally added, “I’d be so lost without you, kid.” He planted a soft kiss onto your head, his arm moving slowly up and down yours. “You’re my home.”

#marvel #tony stark #tony stark x reader #dad!tony stark #dad!tony stark x reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #angsty bois #mcu #iron man #endgame meme #iron man 2 #avengers #unedited #tony stark x you #tony stark x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel x y/n #endgame

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bobasheebaby · 6 years ago

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Bed of Lies-Crimson Rain chapter 7

Pairing: Bastien x Liza; Liam x Raven Written for @badthingshappenbingo Fandom: Choices (The Royal Romance Book) Square filled: Intubation Word count: 3,191 Warnings: angst, hospital setting Summary: Liam finds out some news that makes him turn to an old friend. Present time he finds out something that will change everything. A/N: @katurrade and @zaffrenotes kept pushing me to do a Mobster AU. Beta’d by my patient husband who is completely hooked. A special thank you to @stopforamoment for helping me figure out how to make the double flashback work as one so dialogue didn’t repeat. Also thank you for listening to me while I talked out my muse’s newest twist. Oops. Series warnings: Mobster AU, there will be violence, and death. NSFW content to come. Possibly dark. If you ask to be tagged you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age. Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist. Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters, I’m simply borrowing them for a bit.

Two years ago; Trenton, New Jersey- Liam (Raven): Liam was stunned, shocked really. He stared across the mahogany desk at his father, his mouth gaping, unsure what to say, how to react. Liam quickly snapped his mouth shut, not wanting to be reprimanded for showing an emotion other than anger. He knew the second his father uttered the words lung cancer that he would have no choice but to finally bite the bullet and marry who his father wanted, Madeline. Liam’s jaw clenched, his hands balling up into fists, fingernails digging into his palms at the thought of being forever bound to Madeline. He had resisted his father’s efforts for years. While officially she wore a ring, not the ring—the one that was his mother’s, he refused to acknowledge the engagement he was forced into. He didn’t care that Madeline was groomed to be his partner, that she knew the business inside and out, had grace and poise that rivaled any other woman while remaining tough and rigid, a perfect supportive yet yielding wife any mobster would dream of marrying. These qualities made Madeline perfect in his father’s eyes, but it was these exact qualities that made Liam loathe the idea of being married to her. Madeline’s upbringing made her cold and unfeeling. She had stated more than once that she was willing to turn a blind eye to any indiscretions as long as she was the only one to bear any children. Children, the biggest reason Liam detested the thought of marrying Madeline. He may have lost his mother when he was only eight years old, but he still remembered the warmth, love and compassion her chestnut brown eyes held whenever she looked at him. He remembered the feeling of being wrapped in her loving embrace as she read to him, how he always felt safe, happy and loved while wrapped up in her arms. The sparkle in her eyes as she played pretend with him, the sadness they held whenever his father brought up his training for his birthright. The way she cared for all the children in the family as if they were her own. He longed for a wife, a partner who held the same kindness and compassion, a woman who showed love like his mother had. Liam wanted someone who would ground him, give his children the kind of childhood he had until Bastien had stolen it from him. A wife who would guide him on his path to vengeance, but keep him from going too far. The thought of marrying Madeline made Liam feel hollow and empty. He refused to be confined in a loveless marriage. He had spent years coming up with reason after reason why he needed to postpone the wedding. He kept holding out hope that he might meet someone who made him feel strong and whole, like he could take on the world, instead of the hollow empty feeling he carried with him now. He feared his father’s news would be what finally forced him to do the one thing he dreaded. Liam’s head spun with thoughts of her as he maneuvered through the widespread house back to his room, his sanctuary. It had been six years since he saw her, really truly saw her, more than in mere passing when she visited from college. He envied her freedom, the choice she had in what it was her future held. He hated he was destined to one thing, a business he didn’t really want any part of except to exact revenge on the man who took his mother from him. He never wanted this life, but it was the one he was born into. He once dreamed of escaping the life with her, the dream vanishing when his mother was murdered in what they assumed to be cold-blood. He had allowed himself to slowly drift apart from one of his closest friends when she left for Chicago for college to live her life away from the life, away from the family, away from him. She deserved to live the life she wanted, and that life wasn’t there, wasn’t with him. He had hated to admit it, but once she was gone he realized how much she really meant to him. He noticed that she was on his mind more than she should have been. He bit his tongue, keeping the truth from her, he couldn’t make her question her own dreams. He hated to lose her, but he knew it was for the best, he needed to let her go and let her live her own best life, at least then one of them wouldn’t be stuck in the life. The only relief he felt was that she was free, even if it meant she was free of him too. Back in his room Liam nervously chewed on his bottom lip as he stared at his phone. He hesitated as his finger hovered over her name a moment before finally pressing call. What am I doing? She got out, she’s happy in Chicago! His breath caught in his throat, heart beating rapidly as the phone rang waiting for her voice to break through the line. I should just let her live her life! He contemplated hanging up before she could answer, knowing the friend she was growing up he knew she would drop everything and come home if he asked. Is it fair of me to ask? He heard the click of the phone being picked up. For the first time in his life he hoped he reached her voice mail, he couldn’t upend her life no matter how much he needed her level headedness in this moment. Raven’s heart stopped in her chest when she saw his name pop up on her phone. She hadn’t spoken to him except in passing in the last six years. No no no! Her heart plummeted to her stomach at the realization that he could only be calling her for one reason. Oh please no! Her hand shook, heart racing as she pushed answer. She hesitantly brought the phone to her ear, not ready to hear the news he had called to give her. “Liam? Please tell me my mom is safe!” Raven begged, her voice broke with emotion, voice raised in panic, as hot tears stung her eyes, not even caring about proper phone etiquette in that moment. Liam felt his heart clench at the sound of the fear and panic in her voice. “Raven, no she’s fine I promise!” Liam replied, taking a deep breath, “that’s not why I called.” Never before had he felt so bad, he just needed her support and instead he made her panic. Why did I call? This was a terrible idea! What the fuck was I thinking?! Raven sighed in relief, the weight around her heart releasing slightly, putting her more at ease than she felt since she saw his name pop up on her phone. “Okay, then why did you call?” She questioned, fear giving way to confusion. Liam sighed, knowing as soon as he uttered the words they would slip back into their old roles. She would try to make him feel like he had control over his life, like he had a choice in what became of his life when he knew that was the farthest thing from the truth. He knew she’d be ready to come and offer him whatever comfort she could, putting her entire life on hold for him. Can I really take her chance from her? He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. It’s too late, I can’t turn back now. His heart clenched knowing she would be ready to fly back the next day if he asked, I never should have called her! “It’s my dad, he has lung cancer.” Raven’s heart broke for Liam, the fear she had felt just seeing his name come up, the fear of what might have happened couldn’t compare to the multitude of emotions she knew he had to be feeling in this moment. She couldn’t imagine losing both parents, one to someone they had trusted and now knowing that his father would soon be dying by an uncontrollable force. She couldn’t help but think what a cruel joke it was that someone so kind would go through so much pain and hurt, be forced into such a terrible life, and all before he was even thirty. She glanced around her living room, a picture of them at her graduation gracing her wall, she made a life here, but it was missing him. Could she stay here and let him go through this on his own? She shook her head, she knew she needed to go and be there for him, even if he’d only ever look at her as the younger annoying friend. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t try to talk me out of of coming!” She declared, pushing end call before he could try to convince her to stay. Her heart clenched again, this time in pain instead of fear, she knew it wouldn’t be easy being around him being nothing more than a friend. She shoved the pain aside, he needed her, just like he needed her eighteen years ago. She could do this, she could handle just being his friend, for him. Liam sighed, his phone dropping to his bed, his head dropping into his hands. Why did have I bother her? He shouldn’t have told her, he shouldn’t have called her. She deserves better than me! She shouldn’t be shackled to a life she never wanted, the life she’d live in Trenton by his side. Who am I kidding she doesn’t like me like that! He mentally chastised himself for thinking someone as perfect as Raven could ever have feelings for him. The only person he’d ever have by his side would be cold, cruel, and unfeeling. He would never find a way out of his forced marriage to Madeline, he knew that now, only he made things worse by pulling the one person he thought he might be happy with back into the life. God what was I thinking?! He should have known better than telling her what was going on with his father, he knew she would drop everything for him, that was just the type of friend she was. Liam needed to come to terms with the marriage he would have no choice but going into, and now he had to figure out how to show Raven he was fine and she could return to her life. The thought of lying to her, and saying goodbye to a future with anyone but Madeline all at once made his heart ache in a way he thought it might not ever stop. He needed to pull himself together, he would soon be in charge, far before when they ever thought he would, he needed to act like the man he needed to be, the man his father expected him to be. He needed to leave behind his childhood fantasies and do what was expected of him, he needed to let go any hopes of having a life with her.

Present day; Trenton, New Jersey:

Liam sorted through the stack of mail on his desk, pausing when he saw one with a return address for a nearby nursing home. Confusion overtook him as he opened the envelope, pulling out what was most certainly a bill. Why was he paying a nursing home? He picked up the phone, punching in the number, needing to get to the bottom of the bill. Perhaps it’s a mistake. He glanced at the name, clear as day ‘Constantine Rhys’ printed as payee, no other information given. He drummed his fingers against the mahogany desk as he waited for the phone to be answered. New questions coming up every second that passed as he waited.

“Royal Pines, Katherine speaking.” “Hello Katherine, I was going through my mail and found a bill for your facilities and was hoping you might be able to tell me what it was for. My father has passed and the bill is in his name.” Liam replied. “I’m so sorry for your loss. If you give me the information I should be able to help you.” Liam relayed the needed information, his heart racing in his chest as he waited as she typed into the computer. “It looks like your father has been graciously paying for Jane Doe’s treatment for the last twenty years.” Liam’s head was spinning. Jane Doe? Twenty years? Why on earth was his father paying for someone’s care for twenty years? Could she possibly have survived? His heart raced in his chest at the thought, the hope that maybe somehow Bastien failed. “Mister Rhys, do you want to stop paying for her care? Her daughter would be upset, but there is no signs of her getting any better.” “No, I’ll continue to pay.” He muttered, phone slipping through his fingers. He stomach twisted into knots. His father was paying for someone’s care, someone with a child. Could it be her? He shook the thought from his head, he refused to get his hopes up. The only thing was clear that he needed to uncover who Jane Doe was and why his father would cover her care for twenty years. *** Liam pushed open the door to Royal Pines, his mind filling with doubt. Maybe I should have waited until they could speak to the family. That part puzzled him more than anything, how could she have family and still be considered a Jane Doe? He couldn’t wait he needed answers, like who Jane Doe was, and why his father would be paying her medical bills for the past twenty years. He knew he wasn’t going to find out who she was, she was a Jane Doe, but maybe he could uncover why his father felt the need to cover her bills for so long. Maybe he could discover why she why she was still unclaimed if they had next of kin the needed to contact. He walked up to the reception desk, giving them his name and requesting to speak to Jane Doe’s Doctor. He turned leaning against the reception desk as he looked around the expansive reception area as he waited on the Doctor. A short, grey haired woman, in a white lab coat came out. “Mr Rhys I presume?” She asked receiving a nod in return. “I’m Dr Linda Casey, I’ve been in charge of Jane Doe’s care for the last twenty years. We are very thankful to your family for their paying for her care, but I’m afraid I can’t give you any information about her medical history without the approval of her next of kin.” Liam nodded, he expected as much, yet he needed to try. He needed to understand what would possess his father to care for a woman with no name for twenty years. His heart froze in his chest as a young woman the spitting image of his mother walked up to them. “Linda, is this the man I have to thank for taking care of my mother?” She questioned. “Hope, I’d like you to meet Liam, the son of the man who maintained care of your mother. Mr Rhys, this is Hope Casey.” Dr Casey replied introducing the young woman to him. Hope turned to him smiling, where he expected his mother’s brown eyes he was met with steel grey. He felt his blood begin to boil, he bit the inside of his cheek so hard he drew blood. That bastard! That’s why Bastien had killed, no attempted to kill his mother. She survived? His heart soared at the thought that she somehow survived, Plummer’s back down to earth realizing his father had to have known. If she was alive why was I told she was dead? Why was she a Jane Doe if his father could so easily identify her? Why would my father keep this from me? The questions swam in his head making him dizzy. One thing was clear, Bastien Lykel needed to be stopped before he did anymore damage to anymore lives.

Twenty years ago; Trenton, New Jersey- Constantine: Constantine downed the remainder of his Scotch, he threw the empty tumbler against the wall, the glass shattering upon impact. The sheer incompetence! He knew something was going on between them, the audacity she had to go behind his back! He thought he could rid his life, his organization of all traitors easily. Of course he would refuse to kill his lover, what was I thinking? He thought he had it handled, he thought surely she could handle a simple hit. Why am I surprised? Of course she would survive, they reacted too quickly. His only saving grace was that everyone thought she was dead, he just needed to keep that illusion. Of course she would be pregnant. No one could know she survived. No one could learn of the pregnancy, especially not him. Thankfully she was in bad condition. Perhaps she won’t make it. As he stood there, seeing the woman he had once loved, had trusted with so many machines hooked up to her small frame. A tube down her throat connected to a ventilator, the only thing helping her breathe, keeping her alive. Oh how easy it would be to end it, just a flip of a switch, but he couldn’t, of course he couldn’t. I can’t believe I was so weak! Constantine’s hands curled into fists at his sides as he remembered how weak he had been when he viewed her hooked up to the ventilator. He had felt a twinge in his heart looking at her laying in the bed unmoving, she looked so small and weak, her slight frame looked even smaller, almost childlike in the large hospital bed. Her right side of her head covered in thick white bandages, jet black hair fanned out around the left side of her pale, gaunt face, a stark contrast to the white hospital sheets. He was disappointed in himself, he hated that she still made his heart skip a beat after all she did, all she planned to do. How could he still be under her spell, unable to harm her? She made him feel, made him weak. His fist slammed down on the mahogany desk, he should have been able to end it, finish her off himself. It had been so hard to remove himself, pretend he didn’t know who she was. It’s what needed to be done! The only way he could make this work was if everyone continued to think she was dead. He needed to play the grieving widower, make them feel for him, feel for his son, he could never let the truth come to light. Maybe the swelling in her brain will get worse. Maybe she’ll get an infection from the gunshot and subsequent surgery. He just hoped the situation would resolve itself, and soon.

A/N: My muse has been pushing for the one surprise and well she’s won, and of course she had to make it much more interesting. Scream and yell, I can take it. *Goes to deal with the mess cursing under breath at muse*

Masterlist can be found in my bio.

Tags: @imafictosexual @speedyoperarascalparty @liamxs-world @annekebbphotography @tanyaschoices @hopefulmoonobject @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @riseandshinelittleblossom @cocomaxley @ao719 @blackwidow2721 @katurrade @leelee10898 @stopforamoment @akrenich @gardeningourmet @bella-ca @carabeth @bobbersb-fanficfun @endlessflame @innerpostmentality @imma-winchester-addict @tornbetween2loves @cora-nova@indiacater @traeumerinwitzhelden @blackcatkita @darley1101 @choiceslife @alexpottrechoices @lolablackwrites @daniv2278 @sleepwalkingelite @gibbles82 @kadencantarella

#liam x mc #mobster au #mobster!liam #bad things happen bingo #the royal romance au #liam x raven #angst #choices the royal romance #dark!fic #trr au #bed of lies #crimson rain #chapter 7 #long post #read more

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fredheads · 6 years ago

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🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

I didn’t finish my bttf chapter in time for Halloween but here’s a sneak preview of what I do have!! happy halloween everybody!! 🎃🕰️

“When I was a kid,” Archie says, his converse sneakers crunching in the slurry of dried leaves that covered the pavement, “I always thought Halloween was too short.” A gust of wind sends some leaves tumbling over his feet. “I thought it would be so great if I could live Halloween over and over again.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” says Jughead dryly – or as dryly as he can manage with a plastic Frankenstein mask covering his mouth. “Though, I’m hoping we only have to do this once. Oh god.” Archie’s best friend stops short, tucking his balled hands into his hoodie pocket to spare them from the chilly October breeze. “I can hear it.”

The street they’re walking down, squinting through the eye-holes of their dime-store masks, is lined with bright orange trees, muddy in the dark, their colourful branches concealing well-raked lawns and rows of expensive stone houses. Cheerfully carved Jack-O-Lanterns flicker from almost every porch rail and window, trussed-up scarecrows and thinly-spread cobwebs turning ordinary driveways into haunted wonderlands. Pounding music is issuing from the end of the cul-de-sac, punctuated by the ghostly whoops of adolescent voices. Archie nudges Jughead from behind so he’ll keep walking.

“Okay, I’m just going to say it.” Jughead sounds considerably grumpier the closer they get to Rick Mantle’s house. “Reggie’s dad makes Reggie look tame.”

Archie can’t disagree. The house they finally reach is the largest on the block, with a series of stone steps set into the front yard and a sunken driveway that’s big enough to house six or seven cars. A handful of other cars are parked up and down the street, releasing costumed students who hop gleefully out with clanking six-packs clasped in their hands. The front of the house is decorated from porch to gutter with fake cobwebs, pumpkin lights, and a trio of jack-o-lanterns carved to look as though they’re vomiting pumpkin seeds. Music thumps from inside, the lyrics muffled under a heavy bass line. The party seems relatively subdued - it was a Monday night, after all - but Jughead is shifting from foot to foot like he’s on the top of the high dive at the Riverdale pool.

“This is going to be quick, okay?” Jughead instructs him anxiously, turning his plastic Frankenstein face to Archie. “We go in, we find Tanya, we get out. I don’t want to think about all the ways we could mess up our parents' futures. And no matter what, do not kiss anyone. Do not sleep with anyone. Do not fall in love with anyone.”

“You don’t have to tell me that!” Archie wrinkles his nose. “This whole thing is too weird already.”

“Look, I’m just saying, I wouldn’t put it past you.” Jughead heaves a deep breath and crams his beanie down further on his head, over the mask. He looks ridiculous in his hoodie, jeans, and crown hat. “All right. Let’s do this.”

Humouring him, Archie readjusts his hockey mask so it covers as much of his face as possible. A chill spills involuntarily down his spine as the hard plastic obscures his vision, Halloween-eerie. He was out of his time, and no one here knew who he was or where he was supposed to be. If he disappeared tonight, there would be no one to miss him.

Stupid. He shakes off the fearful thoughts, relishing instead in the anonymity of a pretend identity. Jughead reaches for the doorbell when they get there, but Archie bats his hand away and goes straight for the knob. Before he can turn it, though, the door swings open in their faces.

“Whazzup?” A drunk Rick Mantle greets them, a multitude of gold chains hanging around his neck and a pair of obnoxiously black sunglasses on. Archie squints, trying to decipher his costume, and Rick cranes his neck forward as though he’s squinting right back. “Who are you guys? It’s dark. Manny-?” He reaches out for Archie’s face, and Archie ducks away from his arm. Rick scowls darkly under the shades.

“Masks off, dudes.”

Archie lifts his mask up obediently, feeling oddly chastised. Jughead does the same, and Rick recoils from his face as though Jughead had revealed something horrible.

“Who are you?” he asks aggressively, lifting a handful of sour patch kids to his mouth and tipping them in. Jughead is craning his neck to see over Rick’s shoulder, but in the crowded darkness of the house, making out individual faces is impossible. Before Archie can begin to concoct a story, a brown-haired teenager in a denim getup suddenly appears at Rick’s elbow.

“Who’s here? Hey, it’s you guys!” Archie, abruptly recognizing his father, backs up two steps and almost pushes Jughead off the porch. Young Fred turns to Rick, a big grin on his face. “Let them in, Ricky, I know them.”

“They’re frosh,” says Rick disdainfully, but opens the door a bit wider.

“We’re sophomores,” Archie speaks up, a little insulted.

“Yeah, Rick, they’re sophomores,” says Fred with an easy smile, leaning against the doorframe. He’s wearing a denim vest, a bandanna tied around his forehead. Archie takes a third step back as a precaution. He has a bad feeling if their shirtsleeves brush they might rip the universe apart. “Don’t stress.”

“Fine,” says Rick in a bored tone, pushing past them out on the lawn. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to lock the garage before Mason yakks in my Ferrari.”

“Moose?” Archie mouths, turning to Jughead, but he’s interrupted by his father’s teenage hand landing hard on his wrist. He freezes tight, but the universe around them remains intact. Fred, moving with ease through the crowds of revellers, starts dragging Archie into the house as effortlessly as though he were five years old at a crowded baseball game.

“Okay, where do I know you from?” Fred yells over the music as he pulls Archie further and further away from the door. “It’s been driving me crazy all day.”

Archie glances back over his shoulder to Jughead, who points at the ceiling and mouths the words “split up.” Archie nods, gulping. Jughead would probably have better luck finding Tanya than he would. But the thought of being alone with Fred made him anxious.

“I like your costume!” Fred shouts, piloting Archie into the kitchen. A huge, beer-sticky island is littered with empty vodka bottles, Halloween candy wrappers, and red solo cups. Fred pours himself a shot from a dubiously-labelled bottle of something amber and offers an empty shot glass to Archie.

“Are you drinking?” Archie asks, gaping. “On a school night?!”

“Hall-o-week, dude! Oh my god, you sound like my dad.” Fred knocks back the shot like it’s water, and Archie feels his jaw drop. “Okay, seriously, where have I met you before? You look so familiar. What did you say your name was?”

“I- I didn’t.” Archie stammers.

“A man of mystery. I like it.” Fred grins toothily at him. He unwraps a small candy bar and pops it whole into his mouth. “God, you’re so young. Did I coach your little league or something?”

Archie feels an absurd laugh building in the back of his throat. “Um - maybe.”

“No, that’s not it,” Fred frowns and pulls the bandanna off of his head, scratching at his sweaty hairline. “Sorry, I hijacked you. Are you looking for someone?”

Archie’s heart leaps, and he seizes the chance. “Tanya Doiley. Do you know her?”

Fred purses his lips and thinks. “She’s a cheerleader. Nah, I haven’t seen her.”

“Do you know who would know her?” Archie asks, his heart sinking, but Fred’s fumbling with his top vest pocket and doesn’t seem to hear.

“Mind if we go in the backyard?” Fred asks suddenly, and Archie’s startled to see him holding up a cigarette and a lighter. “I want to light this.”

“You smoke too?!” Archie yelps. Fred gives him a long-suffering look, already pushing the patio doors open.

“God, you really are my dad. You need to stop tripping, dude. Be more mellow. Just like, go with the flow, you know?” He motions for Archie to join him out on the porch, and Archie follows obediently. Fred lights the cigarette and holds it out. “You want some?”

“Dad-!” begins Archie sharply, batting it away, and immediately claps a hand over his mouth. Fred gives him a weird look, but pops the cigarette back in his mouth.

“I don’t do this often,” he admits, exhaling a long plume of smoke into the backyard. “I’m just trying something. My girl’s into the bad guy image.”

“Mary?” asks Archie, feeling a quick little jump in his heart.

“Who? Hermione,” corrects Fred. “Her name’s Hermione. Head Cheerleader. You probably know her.”

“Yeah, I think I might,” Archie says awkwardly. His face is getting hot. This is weird. Too weird. And awful. He’s about to make some excuse to leave when the patio door slides open and his path is barred by a blonde girl in fishnets, her hands planted on her hips in a way that strikes Archie as oddly familiar.

“Hey, Freddie, can I bum a smoke?”

“Alice, get your own,” Fred tosses back, and Archie almost chokes on his spit when he recognizes her. Alice Cooper! Prim, cardiganed, helicopter-mom Alice Cooper. Standing in front of him in a tiny leather skirt and a beret.

This was possibly the scariest Halloween he’d ever lived through.

“This is all I’ve got,” says Fred. Alice snorts, turns on her heel, and stomps back into the party, flipping Fred the bird over her shoulder.

“I’ll ask FP!” she calls.

“Good luck finding him!” Fred shouts back. Archie’s eyes land again on the cigarette tucked between his fingers.

“My grandpa died from lung cancer,” Archie blurts out.

“Bummer,” says Fred, and takes a swig from his beer. “Sorry.”

“My dad calls them coffin nails,” says Archie, eyes fixed closely on Fred’s face. His father turns to look at him, blowing a steady stream of white smoke out beside Archie’s ear.

“Mine too.”

“Don’t smoke it,” Archie blurts out finally, reaching his hand out for the roll. Fred, surprised, hands it to him without complaint. “Just don’t. Please?” He glances down at the patio and considers pitching the cigarette off.

“Whatever you want, dude,” says his father, unconcerned. “Let’s go play beer pong.”

#julia writes #back to the future au

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almasidaliano · 4 years ago

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Plot Twist: IT IS A RACE THING

let's rip the bandaid off. it's a race thing. "oh no racism isn't an issue" shut the fuck up. seriously, im disappointed in my people so i'm going to address yall first. my melanated Kings and Queens; darlings what are yall doing? Why are we still taking this? Why are we subjecting ourselves to this kind of disrespect?

are we really just going to sit here and let history repeat itself? going to watch them shackle and kill us all again? what are you afraid of? our ancestors were scared. they were strong in their own way, we are stronger. they kept our culture alive, our roots. they sacrifice their freedom for ours, and look at this. look at us. playing into their game, letting them run the show. have we forgotten about the 1960s? when the civil rights movements picked up? yall forget Martin, Malcolm, Rosa?

if you are African American, meaning black (yes you mixed mfs are black, you can try to tread on the fence but im sorry to tell you, the day will come when you have to pick a side and what's worse is no matter what you pick the world already decided for you.) and born in america; your ancestors are slaves. you can't tell me, your blood, your heritage, your lineage doesn't deserve defending, protection.

we have a constitution. this doctrine is the "LAW OF THE LAND" (still we have individual state laws, hmm). in this document, the rights of people of color, and women were added into the admendments. people of color had to take citizenship tests, though they were never taught to read, and english wasn't even their first language. then there was the segregation. if you skin is pigmented, you are treated differently.

low income areas, "ghettos/hood" areas were designed for the communities to run like crabs in a bucket. they require dependency or rebellion. they isolated and rationed resources, discriminated and interfered with job security, then blamed the citizens of the community for their failures. provided the bare minimum (a bar they set) and do you know why the hate continued? because still we rose.

understand this : WE; ALL PEOPLE, ALL HUMAN BEINGS ARE EQUAL, HOWEVER WE ARE NOT THE SAME.

this is why the problem started. human were created in "Gods image" (any god you believe in we will indulge the religious conversation later.) layman's terms? we are all gods.

we are not the same kind of gods though. like ying and yang right? so there is light and dark. society told us we should be afraid of the dark, that bad things happen in the dark, that monsters hide there. what's funny is that life teaches us the opposite; teaches us that monsters can dress nice and wear smiles too. there's the story of Lucifer right? Lucifer is not the Devil. the Devil in my opinion is the "God" of evil. like there is good energy and there is bad energy. the universe is made up of both. so boom right? Lucifer was right hand to God and got big headed wanted to be him couldn't boom gets casted out takes a third of angels and boom hell and allat right? so let's just break it down for a second.

alright so first, B I B L E: basic instructions before leaving earth. the Bible is written in code, one, and two it is allegorical. (all melanated people truly do need to crack open a book and get to reading.) Jesus (Yahshua) is melanated, wooly hair bronze skin? come on now. so the idea they are selling is this all power white man is saving us all. truthfully, who cares what he look like if he's here to save our souls? you would think that would be the thought process, however; for some people the truth does not get them what they want so they opt against it. Good and light became associated with white. "wear all white when you feeling godly" its supposed to holy and clean right? pale faces became the face of faith. hasn't anyone realized how blinding light is? the closer you look the less you see. they guide your focus. the stars light the night sky yet we have all of this light pollution, it is simply a means of distraction. the wind talks, did you know that? the trees whisper. nature is beautiful and most of the world will never know.

they divided us by color. our skin isn't even black, however because they are pale, pasty, white; they made us their opposite. even in their classification of us they revealed the truth. you see, white is the absence of all color. it is empty. whereas, black is compromised of every color.

did you know there are two types of humans? yes seriously. homo sapiens and neanderthals. fun fact: neanderthals are structured more chimp like. homo sapiens were living in Africa albinism was prominent so there were a lot of melanated people without melanin, getting skin cancer and dying. neanderthals came about when homo sapiens migrated to Europe and Eurasia. they mated and began creating all the many races and ethnicities we have today.

melanated people are built structurally different than white people. we are naturally stronger, faster, thicker, humane, etc than they are. this is where the hate comes from.

"jealousy is just love and hate at the same time. - aubrey" pride and envy are dangerous things. when trying to compete, they were met with failure and it manifested hate instead of motivation. look at america. it is built entirely on the ideas of others, the hardwork and manual labor of others. those leading our country have done nothing for us. they simply continue taking all the credit.

white people left Britain, and called it "fleeing from religious persecution". the truth is they were fleeing from classism. they were in their element and they were minnows and not sharks. they decided to find a new pond to swim in. they did just that. the Natives were abused, and disregarded. they pretended to be civil and took damn near everything from them, all of their legacies and memories, their safety.

white people are lazy and greedy. this is why there are so many dividing markers in our life, labels, roles. there is a grave lack of family values for them. there is this morphed idea that the world is here for them, like we are all here to aid them. they reek of entitlement. like success, joy, love and prosperity are guaranteed to them just because. it is not on them all. just like melanated people can't help their environment, neither can they. the rude awakening always comes once you become unsheltered from actuality.

the cards are stacked against us from the jump. due to our enivornments, children grow up in broken homes, homeless, or jumping from home to home. single parents run themselves ragged, over stressed. children end up in the streets trying to take some of the weight off of their parents. the world just see thugs and gangsters though. menaces to society. when the real menace is society.

still we rise. still we smile. still we laugh and we love. and its so disheartening, that those are the things festering their hatred for us. no one is perfect. no one is the worst thing they have ever done either. growth is constant.

all we have to do is decide to be ourselves. decide to impact the world the best way YOU know how. white people have talents, a multitude of gifts. instead of trying to get rid of everyone else's imagination, what about losing the fear and choosing to dream yourself? and maybe asking for help, should you need it.

who you are, is who you've always been. i mean, the you, you were before the world told you who you had to be. who you are, has and will never be dependent on anything out of your control. people use the wrong things to assess the quality of a person. things like religious views, political views, music preference, sexuality. things that do not have shit to do with you. its all more division markers.

trust yourself. fuck what society says. what does society actually know? only what they are told. think about this: pyschological control is basically brainwashing. so boom. then you got your mind, your heart and your gut. that would be logic, emotion, and intuition. your emotion and your intuition are in the same section of your body. your brain however, is all isolated while being the storage container for everything you see experience etc in life. your brain is what gets conditioned. all the preconceived notions you have about things came from somewhere. where? we know what we know because they told us. how do we know its true? the thing about logic is, it makes sense. so when your mind isn't making sense yet your heart and gut in agreement, listen to yourself. they tell you think before you speak because their conditioned processor is in your head. always follow your heart.

people on both sides still to this day suggest segregation. like folks really do not believe we can cohabitate in a productive civil mutually benefical and prosperous way and that without segregation, civil war and/or genocide is in the future. here's the thing. they had every opportunity, to ship folks back, or even kick us out. now folks could just start up and leaving, yet we don't. we tuck our tails and put up with it. why? i think its due to fear of being a foreigner in your true motherland. fear of not being accepted there either. i also think it's due to the way our ancestors were treated; how they allowed themselves to be treated.

so look: i'm a mutt. both sides of the feud, so i can formulate a well rounded argument; however i am black. when the world sees me and when i see me too. i am black and proud, in a world hell bent on making me believe my genes deem me inferior or unworthy to anyone. i say that to say, nothing will change until we stop fighting each other and start fighting for one another. they misused and abused us. chained and locked us away like animals. beat us like animals. and before they started more actively and carelessly attacking us out loud again, they got smart. gave us rights, gave us "homes" "communities" we were grateful. for this illusion of freedom. we must get uncomfortable with this false freedom. they treated us like animals, then tried to make us the villians, fearful we would retaliate, when all we ever wanted to do was live, joyously in harmony.

they cannot stop hating us, because we will never hate them. its a losing battle for them. still, if we don't stand up and fight we will lose in the end. fear and trauma also sparks compliance in them. bears are not violent creatures. but you don't poke a bear you know? melanated people are bears. currently acting like bears at the zoo. how long are we going to let them poke the bear?

melanated people need to unite. Dr. King tried peace and it worked for a little bit. it was a bandaid fix. now it's time to try Malcolm's approach.

Thanks for listening. -Almasi.

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conners-clinic · 5 years ago

Link

A patient recently submitted the following question:

One of the main things I am struggling with is my decision not to do chemo.

I am not against chemo and radiation and I feel like it has a time and place. If I can heal my cancer without it I would like to. However, if the majority of people with my type of cancer can’t heal without it then maybe I should go forward with it.

Am I doing the right thing?

This is such a tough dilemma, I can understand the ever-present fears associated with a decision like this and I can understand that deep desire to erase any “what if’s” from one’s mind and heart.

Although I do not have the legal right to tell a patient to do or not to do chemotherapy, radiation, surgery, prescription medications or any other form of western medical intervention, what I can do is provide patients a breakdown for deductive reasoning, that they might reach a place where they can make confident decisions for themselves.

The following is a list of steps I’ve encouraged patients to take as they decide whether adding _______ (insert chosen therapy) is right for them.

Step 1. Assess Your Current Symptoms and State-of-Health

Are my symptoms consistently worsening, even with everything I am currently doing to support my immune system?

If my symptoms are worsening, how rapid are the changes?

If my symptoms are not worsening, do I still have fears/concerns with holding “stasis” in this state-of-health?

Do my scans & labs confirm my current symptoms or is what I’m physically experiencing in-contradiction to the trending results?

Do I have quality-of-life?

Step 2. Assess Your Current Protocol

Have I reached a plateau with what I can currently do ‘naturally�� to support my immune system?

Am I interested in or even capable of adding in more alternative therapies to my current protocol?

Is there another alternative clinic/practitioner that I might benefit from consulting with?

Do I have more time in my day/week to add more alternative therapies?

Do I have the financial capacity to support a continued expansion of out-of-pocket expenses?

Am I reaching a place of mental/spiritual burnout or overwhelm in my current regimen?

Step 3. Know the Facts

How does my type/stage/grade of cancer typically respond to traditional therapies?

What does the research say?

What are the 5-year survival rates?

What is a detailed breakdown of the recommended protocol {s}: drug names, # of infusions/treatments, time-span between each infusion/treatment

Does the suggested protocol seem reasonable, taking into account my needs as an individual?

What are the expected effects {including side-effects} of those treatments?

Step 4. Address “Side” Effects Head-On

Am I willing to risk experiencing all of the potential side effects {even those listed as rare}?

How does my body currently handle modern medical interventions?

How do I currently tolerate chemical exposures: am I sensitive to them or do I not notice any difference?

What does my genetic report say about my methylation pathways, specifically my detoxification genes?

Am I willing to adjust/add to my current therapy regimen to accommodate additional support in light of potential side effects?

Step 5. Consider Your Support System

Am I experiencing pressure or encouragement/support from others?

If I am experiencing pressure, what is their motive {whether intentional or unintentional}? Is it fear? Love? The desire to have their way? Is their pressure founded in research-supported wisdom?

Walk through all individuals who currently bear influence in your life: spouse, oncologist, primary care practitioner, immediate/extended family, friends, spiritual community, coworkers, etc.

If at any point in the future I decide to change course, will I continue to be supported in my decisions?

Step 6. Finding Peace

Where is my current state of mental health at?

Do I have more peace if I DON’T or if I DO pursue Western Medical Treatments? There is a major difference!!

Not every question listed above needs to be answered before a person might reach a final decision and choose which way to go. Some people might only need to ask themselves the very first question: Are my symptoms consistently worsening, even with everything I am currently doing to support my immune system? For others, it might take many more questions and conversations to reach that place.

Take an appropriate amount of time, seek wisdom from a multitude of counselors, and make your decision based upon that wisdom and the peace you experience as a result.

For a more detailed explanation of these steps/questions, you can watch the video presentation here:

Michelle Hamburger, Clinical Kinesiologist, CNHP

Michelle Hamburger is the Lead Practitioner and Clinical Kinesiologist for Conners Clinic, trained by apprenticeship under Dr. Conners since 2010. Michelle developed and directs CC’s distance care program, traveling the U.S. to bring alternative services directly to patients. She is a graduate of Trinity International University with a degree in Social Sciences, emphasis on psychology, sociology and health. She is completing her Naturopathic degree, her AMA Fellowship in Integrative Cancer Therapy, Methyl Genetic Nutrition certification.

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#IFTTT #News

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payprosalaska · 5 years ago

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sunnymenagerie · 6 years ago

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It's 1:34am and I can't sleep. Anxiety is back and while I can usually ignore it, this wave isn't ceasing to exist. I figure it's for a multitude of reasons...

Matt's wrist and ankles were swelling. I thought gout but then of course, Googled and scared myself. With him already freaked out we went to the clinic today. Because it was a walk-in, we had to wait, and wait. His NP doesn't seem worried. His blood work and urine were normal, but she ordered further testing. We’ll have those results by Friday, hopefully. She thinks it's just a GVHD flare up, possibly in his kidneys and I have to hold onto one of the last things she said as we headed towards the pharmacy, "It's nothing life threatening."

Nothing life threatening. That's definitely one of the top 10 things you want to hear at a cancer clinic. Because Matt's been dealing with that, he's been stressed and that in turn makes me panic because there will forever be that little voice in the back of our heads; it's back. WTF do we do if he relapses? We've talked about it and he wants to immediately go back east. Which is something I 100% understand. I'd want nothing more to be with my mom during something like that. And in the end, I'd go with him. Which scares me because change and leaving California puts the fear of gawd in me.

Which, is another point of anxiety recently - the future. I'm set on applying to grad school this fall to start in the spring. That's all great in theory but what if I don't get in? What then? I spend about an hour every night after Matt goes to bed looking for "normal" work, and I am less qualified for most of them than a newborn. I apply to a handful and nothing. I never hear back from the normies because a resume filled with a decade's worth of writing is all they see. They don't see the time and project management, organization, and self-starter bullshit they boast about wanting. All they see on paper is a 30-something who blogs about the '90s from her couch. Which, let's be real - is a pretty good summary of me on a small scale.

But yeah, if I don't get in I have ZERO ideas on what to do. Matt's health is always my #1 thought and if we move, what about his meds? Doctors? All that jazz? That (and by gawd the weather) keep me from pulling the plug on California. Well, that and fear. I'm scared to move away and I honestly don't know why. My family is two hours away but I talk to them either daily or weekly and can always send them money and whatnot when they need. They know that, and wouldn't be upset if I left. I don't think anyone would be. That's not to sound "oh woe is me," I just really feel like an after thought most of the time. Another notch in the old anxiety belt with that one but I don't want to get into it because I don't want to sit here crying at well, now it's 1:47am.

13 minutes and 13 reasons why. No, I'd never but life and death has been on my mind a lot lately. I don't want to die. It's actually my (and probably a billion other people's) number one fear. However, I've just felt like...kind of useless lately. Like I have absolutely no purpose. I want to go to grad school to be a high school counselor but while I'm questioning what the fuck I'll do if I don't get in, I'm also like...WTF do I do if I get accepted? Not only does the cost cause my heart to work overtime, but if I'm this much of a mess, how am I supposed to help a poor kid? Will I fuck them up even more than when they first came to me for help?

I always tell Matt not to worry about shit until it's right in front of him and worth worrying about, but I always fail to follow my own advice. Matt's health, our future, my future, feeling lost and useless, forever searching for what I'm meant to do or be...I always thought that by your 30's you have life figured out. I'm three weeks out from 32 and probably had a better head on my shoulder at 19.

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lefishe · 6 years ago

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"Re-Post": "A burning branch into a bucket of kerosene"

If you read the post I made 10 minutes before this one, well goddamn it means you are reading this new post, and have just realized that I finally posted more than once every millennia. Jokes aside, here's a piece I wrote for my grade 12 AP comparative politics class on the Iranian Hostage Crisis of 1979. I think Iran is possibly my favourite country to study in political science because of it's uncommon government and theocracy, and because of its conflicts with the United States, the hostage crisis being one of them. I do lot's of introduction in this piece so hopefully, you get a good perspective of the crisis even if you know nothing about Iran. The end of the piece also makes reference to the movie Argo, which is about this crisis, and is a movie you should totally watch. The piece isn't perfect, and has lots of grammar mistakes and yet, I won't change any of them. Ok thanks, God bless, and thanks for reading this.

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Approximately 36 years ago, the beginning of a new era of complications in Iranian and American relations was set aflame. In a continuation of the United States self-purpose of world influence in its own protective interests, for once, its touch went too far. In the beginning of an Iranian revolution, the introduction of the British and American hand meddling with an outside country only caused what is now know as a 444-day mistake. In short, this analysis piece is meant to place perspective and shed light upon this tragically historical event.

To truly get perspective upon the crisis at hand, a backtrack of almost 30 years prior to the event must be entailed. Within the context of the cold war, the United States lived under a time period of the need for the extermination of communism. Under the same values, the Shah of Iran formed a bond with the United States in their common interest of the “extermination” of communism. In the early 1950’s, under the new election of Mohamed Mossadegh as prime minister, the Shah fled the country. Through his new acquirement of power, the resentful prime minister nationalized the oil industry in a fight against the controlling hand of Britain and the United States in their oil industry. In an effort to drive the new prime minister out, the Shah with the help of the United States and the CIA initiated operation AJAX in a common effort to reinstate the Shah in power and to re-establish US and Iranian relations. This constant struggle to reinstate the Shah as a leader of Iran in constant close quarters to the United States is where the resentment for the Shah and the all mighty power began.

Up until the 1970’s, with the reinstatement of the Shah into power, the country began to melt its hope for better times. Under constant resentment from the population, the Shah continued to match the democratized and economically liberal society of the United States through modernization of his own broken country. Dubbed the “White Revolution” his plan of action involved initiatives in the military and the economy. Although some of these plans like the right to vote for women were good, he was sapping the resources of an already damaged country, turning his own people against his actions. In the worst possible attempt to replicate the institutions of the United States, the Shah created the SAVAK, in inspiration of the CIA, which was a covert police force meant to torture and control any resentment and opposition to the actions of the higher power. This was the final straw for the Shah as starting in 1978, opposition to his dictator-like actions began to devolve into demonstrations from the people. In this new time period, the context of the Iranian revolution is obtained.

In this new era of revolution, the people of Iran, led by Ayatollah Khomeini in exile from the country, fueled an overthrow of the Shah. Through continuous demonstrations, the people rallied in all major cities in the effort to revolutionize their own country. The first step in achieving a “better” Iran started when a group of soldiers managed to get past all security around the Shah on December 10th 1978. In a time of a collapsing regime, the Shah finally fled Iran on January 14 1979 where after some time of travelling, was invited to receive cancer treatment in the United States. From their perspective, the United States invited the Shah as a manner of humanity and alliance, but in reality, it turned out to be the tossing of “A burning branch into a bucket of kerosene.”

With an understanding of the tensions in Iran in this time frame, it is now clearer to see how an event like the Iranian Hostage Crisis did occur. In a brief understanding of the events of occurred, on November 4th 1979, a group of militant student demonstrators rallied outside the US embassy in the name of the Ayatollah, who supported the intolerability of US interference in Iran. Their demonstrations took a very rapid shift upon the entering of students into the embassy, where the people inside frantically tried to burn any sort of highly confidential files. Upon entering the embassy, the students captured almost all Americans inside, leaving them now hostages to these militants. In total, 66 hostages were kept inside the embassy, while 6 Americans managed to escape to reside in the Canadian embassy, this story being the main focus of the movie Argo. The demands of the Iranian people were quite simple in this event, and that was to return the Shah to Iran to make him face trials for what his people had suffered under his leadership.

From a future outside perspective, it is now clear to tell how this event did occur. In modern times, with perspectives from hostages and militants, it is clear that this entire 444-day event was in sorts a misunderstanding. As one militant student mentioned in an interview “We believed the United States was against the revolution and that it was preparing another coup.” In short, under the influence of the Ayatollah, the people were actually being “brainwashed” into believing that the US was planning retaliation. Very simply, the Ayatollah’s main goal in the revolution was to fire up his people. In an attempt to grow this fire, he intently portrayed the United States as an enemy for holding back the Shah. In reality, the Ayatollah wanted the Shah back into the country not for the trial he would endure, but rather to fuel his population with energy once more. Overall, the introduction of the Ayatollah and his views into the country of Iran forced the people to despise the United States. From both sides, the Iranians feared the fundamentalism and imperialism placed by America for they seemed to place their hand in every global conflict. The Iranian hostage crisis was an answer to this fear and it resulted in a much fought out diplomatic war.

Overall, the 444 days in which Americans were held hostage were a torturing period of time for the entire western world. In attempts at humiliation, the militant students used the hostages as puppets, showing their perspectives on the hellish nature of the United States. Throughout this massive time period, the media in the United States focused on the number of days ever single night on the news, fueling the counter hatred felt by Americans at home. One of the most influential leaders in this entire diplomatic war was the United States President Carter. As tensions grew at home, tensions felt by the American people revolved around the involvement of the President in this event. As the United States has always believed in, their goal is never to negotiate with terrorists. In an event like the hostage crisis, this value could not have been held any tighter. In failing attempts at diplomatic solution making, Carter was losing popularity very quickly.

On April 25th 1980 a Delta Force sent by the United States was engaged in hope of freeing the hostages with force. Upon the entering of Iran, the team dissolved as the mission was aborted. On the way back, men were killed when two of the helicopters crashed, worsening the grip of tension in the United States population. The bodies of the men in this mission were upheld in demonstrations, showing the true conflict at hand. Upon this failure, a period of wait was to be engaged in the hope of releasing the hostages. In a portrayal of Carter’s failures, the media continued to highlight his “incompetence” in dealing with such important matters. In a long period of wait and failed diplomacy, resolutions to the hostage crisis were set forth upon the day of President Reagan's inauguration.

The end of the hostage crisis arrived for a multitude of reasons. In such a weak state, Iran had held the hostages long enough and suffered enough trade bans to a point in which their own country was in need of resources. As Iranian assets were frozen by the United States, the end of the crisis was to be negotiated with the major power in order to resolve their weakening country. Also, with the death of the Shah in July 1980 in Egypt, and the spark of a new conflict between Iran and Iraq, Iran was left to let go of their 444-day problem for the rise of new ones. Through Algerian intermediaries, the United States promised to release 8 billion dollars worth of frozen Iranian assets in order for the hostages to be released. As this brought an end to the Iranian Hostage Crisis, the event also brought the end to the Carter era. As his efforts during the crisis were deemed incompetent and weak by the American people, a loss of trust in him was entailed, leading to a path with the new President Reagan, who promised to take firm action in the reoccurrence of such events. As for the 6 escaped men and women from the embassy, their “Canadian Caper” mission led them to safety on January 27th 1980 where as portrayed in the movie Argo, boarded a flight in the fleeing of Iran. This small group of people rescued from the crisis gave hope to the rest of the world, as all hoped to help the rest of the hostages. Although these 444 days were gruelling, they will never be forgotten as they have taught valuable lessons about the world we live in.

In lessons to be learned from the crisis, one of the most personal observed ones comes from depictions in the movie Argo. As seen in the movie, on the morning of the invasion into the embassy, with incredible riots and chaos outside the doors, no one seemed to worry about intrusion. It was very peculiar to see that with such imminent danger outside a US diplomatic building, there seemed to be any lack of concern. Upon further research, it seemed as if the hostage crisis could have been averted through more preparation. For example, in the transfer of the Shah to the care of the United States, it was recorded that the embassy did release concern about repercussions upon their institutions. Through these warnings, it would have seemed logical for the US government to be more concerned about its own hold inside the country of Iran. Although preparation may not have been enough to resist the beginning of the hostage crisis, a lack of communication and planning was evident upon the United States first negotiations and conflicts with radical militants in Iran.

Another lesson to be learned from this crisis is the ideas of misinterpretation and assumption and how they lead to conflict. As mentioned before, from the perspective of the militants, they were convinced “that if we didn't attack the embassy, they could attack us. We thought we needed two or three days to see all the documents. If there was a plan [for a coup], we would find something” as a militant student said. On the other hand, as a hostage mentioned, “They thought we were all James Bond” assuming that an embassy was to be filled with CIA and “a nest of spies.” From an outside perspective, it is clear to see that a major lesson to be learned from this event derives from the ideas of misinterpretations and how far these can lead an ignorant people. Under the leading of the Ayatollah, the militants were now soldiers of his will, instating any requirement. In a time of hatred for Americans, the ignorant militants decided to attack an embassy full of innocent people not for a purpose but rather by misinterpretation. Under a complete lack of diplomacy discussions and preparations, this event spiralled out of control more than it should have, for mere assumptions and the brainwashing of a fired up, militant people.

In conclusion, although the Iranian Hostage Crisis was a long undesirable entrance into the new era of Iranian and US relations, its importance will reign true forever. In new times of militant conflict after the fact, the hostage crisis will go down as the defining moment of the start of conflict with terrorism. Although misinterpretation and lack of preparations led to this disastrous event, a root of ignorance still lies in the feet of the Iranian people. In light of their celebrations of the return of the Ayatollah, the majority of the fired up people forgot that in such a dysfunctional state, a leader with great power can radically change a country. No matter the honesty of the person, power changes someone, as it always has in Iran. Its not because you buy a new banana to replace the old one, that this banana wont also take in the oxygen of power to itself become corrupted. Power changes leaders, and leaders influence countries infinitely.

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jeraldmathieus-blog · 8 years ago

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Jerald Mathieus’ Survival Guide To: Making Friends!

Dear reader, far be it for me to indulge in the dramatic, but...the world is a dangerous place! Yes, everything is frightening! Everything! The media is right! Fear is everywhere! Everywhere! And people. Are. Watching!

With each passing day a new horror comes along and makes it all the more challenging to open our front doors (take it from me, as one who NEVER opens his). What are we to do? Run? Cower? Build a bunker to hide our family in for a multitude of generations until they develop mole-like qualities and a thirst for human blood? Fans, friends, and familiars; I would not blame you for doing any of the listed above, for life is terrifying. It seems, more often than not, that the only option left is to SCREAM!

SCREAM!

SCREAM!!!

Or...

Take some time to sit and read our new all-purpose survival guide! A series I’m hoping to start here on this blog in order to help others dip, duck, and dodge around life's many hurdles and dangers. For who else would read my brilliance if you all died in some freak accident?

So, lock your doors, close your windows, wrap yourself in saran wrap, and take a peep into the first installment of...

Jerald Mathieus' Survival Guide To: Making Friends!

I feel we all know it by now; making friends is dangerous business. In a vast world of varying personality types, diverging personals interests, and brain eating Social Networking sites (not pictured: the tendrils of Friendster slipping out from behind your glowing computer screen and reaching with want and intense desire for a nice tender brain to munch), it can be a bit overwhelming trying to discern whether someone is worth your time or secretly your rival in a less-than-convincing friend-costume trying to lower your defenses to obtain your deepest and darkest secrets. A mistake made too often readers.

Fret not, we have you covered. In this article, we're going to give you a point-by-point break down on the tricks, tips, and tells to find out whether or not the person sitting across the table can be considered a 'friend'.

1. NO ONE IS YOUR FRIEND! EVERYONE IS OUT TO GET YOU!

Sometimes life is all about mindset! ‘Mind-over-matter’ as some say. Ergo, it only stands to reason that an important part of making friends is attitude! Positive outlook lands the job, determined demeanor overcomes barriers, and perseverance defeats fear. So, when attempting to make friends, the best attitude to have is; PLEASE! HELP! THEY ARE OUT TO GET ME! I CAN'T TRUST ANYONE! GET AWAY FROM ME!

No one likes making a friend only to find a ‘fake’ instead. A story as old as time; one minute you’re sharing a delightful brunch, the next you wake up in a bathtub full of ice with one less kidney, fuming mad that, yet again, you’re the one with egg on your face (not pictured: burning hot yoke seeping into your sockets). The best way to avoid such a fate? Trust no one! Before they can fool you, call them out on it, and that way none of those scalawags can get away with pulling the wool over your eyes.

"Oh, I like your shirt." He says, nodding in your general direction.

"OH, DO YOU, JOHN!? IF THAT IS YOUR REAL NAME! I'M ONTO YOU! YOU CAN'T FOOL ME!" You reply.

With this attitude, you can weed out all potential foes and enemies with swiftness and efficiency. Worst case scenario is you alienate possible future friends as you become lost in a paranoid laced odyssey through your growing disconnection with the general population, but worry not, for it is a big ocean and there are plenty more fish to see!

2. Common Musical Interests!

Any cornerstone of a good friendship is shared likes, and no medium is known for bringing people together better than the art of music. The immense power of melody can never be overstated, as a common interest in a band or album has often joined two wandering souls in their journey to find like-minded individuals swimming around in the endless plain that is life. Here is a list of things to keep an eye out for when perusing their music selection.

If, while scrolling through their playlists, you find no copies of "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen; RUN! Run as fast and as far as you can. They are most likely an android sent to kill you! They will show no mercy and no fear. Running is your only hope.

Finding early Bowie albums suggests a docile demeanor. Be sure to approach this person with a handful of oats slowly and then scratch him behind the ear assuring him "That's it, everything's fine, no one is gonna hurt you".

If he has Wu-Tang's Enter the 36th Chamber, congratulations, you've just gained ten years of good luck and a free cruise to Hawaii.

Jazz is forbidden.

3. Jokes & Humor!

Many friends have been won over with a nice hearty laugh. Being able to share a joke not only signifies a similar sense of humor, but share experiences which you and your new friend can revel in. Not quite the 'Stand-up comic'? Don't worry, we have some sure-fire knees slappers to help you out.

"Knock knock!"/"Who's there?"/"Don't you remember me?!"/"Oh, please stop crying...oh jeez...um..."

"Why did the chicken cross the road?"/"Why?"/"I DON'T KNOW!"/"Why are you crying?...What?...Seriously?"

"What did the doctor say to his patient?"/"What?"/"Its cancer! Oh god, not again!"/"Dude, why are you crying all the time?!"

You give out a loud high-pitched screech before bending forward and muttering inane gibberish to yourself for several minutes. If he laughs, he is in on the joke. If he returns the screech, he has accepted your challenge for battle.

4. DANCE!

DANCE! YES! DANCE MY PRETTIES! THROW YOUR CARES INTO THE WIND AND GIVE YOURSELF TO THE PHYSICAL EXPRESSION OF DANCE! MOVE YOUR ARMS AND LEGS AND GIVE INTO TEMPTATION! LET GO AND JOIN THE WORLD OF THE INDULGENT! WE ARE THE DANCERS, THE DREAMERS, THE LOVERS, AND THE WANDERERS! SHOW THE WORLD YOUR HEART BY PLAYING IT UPON YOUR SLEEVES! HEAR MUSIC WHERE THERE IS NONE! MOVE EVEN WHEN NO ONE ELSE IS! JUMP AND FLAIL AND LAUGH AND DIE ALL AT THE SAME TIME! WE ARE THE LORDS OF OUR BODIES AND WE WILL MOVE HOW WE SEE FIT! DANCE! DANCE! DAAAAAAAANCE!

We hope our various tricks, tips, and hints help you in your ongoing search for companions in this horrid desolate landscape of hate and destruction where nothing remains the same and the only sure thing is truly how unsure we are of anything. Have fun, dear readers, and remember...something...I don't recall what...um...

-Jerald Mathieus

#writing #comedy #friendship #Writers of tumblr #funny #Jerald Mathieus

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hysteriamodes · 6 years ago

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That is where you're wrong.

The whole point of this post isn't """fear mongering""".

The point is, what you anti-choice people freak out about, contraception and abortion, the services provide them at an affordable cost, and what YOU think that these pills are used for isn't always the case.

You DO realize if Roe v. Wade goes, not only YOUR treatment to stop cysts as well as mine will be taken? I've been taking this stuff for nearly ten years, and if anything, it helped my body to the point that my periods weren't as irregular like having a three to five month span without a pill.

There is no harm in taking any of these pills other than the side effects. And way to read the article I posted that clearly states that some cysts can be bad and can be cancerous. You do not know my health history but what I can tell you is that I have had numerous issues that are excruciatingly painful.

The point is that this stuff is used for other health issues ranging from acne to avoiding periods all together. There's even some men out there that think we all can just activate our periods on command and it isn't as if sex ed is taught well.

No, guys, don't be fooled. Prior to their reblog of my vent post, they posted something about them lamenting that men never has a say. It's not hard to see that they're anti-choice.

I'm not """fear mongering""", I'm mad that people keep pushing this anti-choice rhetoric and not acknowledging the fact institutions like Planned Parenthood offer up a multitude of services other than abortion (and even contraception). As I said, I'm at high risk for breast cancer and I know that's a bigger risk than cysts right now. Being that I don't know what is going to happen to my health coverage, Planned Parenthood offers an affordable option for breast cancer screening. And what I also hope in the future, since it's accessable, affordable, and I prefer a smaller place to go, I want to come back and learn how I can eventually conceive because I know that's going to be difficult to do.

So, you know, I'm mad that this continues to be an issue, something my mother, my grandmother, and more generations before me still have to say, "hey, stop telling me what to do with my body". And don't think for a moment that girls that have been sexually abused should be stripped of this option.

You do you, but people like you need to stay the hell out of people's sex lives.

Go outside and touch grass.

I have polycystic ovarian syndrome.

I get them constantly.

The biggest cyst on my ovary was a size of a grapefruit. At 22 years old, I almost lost my ovaries and that would have meant I would have gone into menopause. At 22 years old.

You know what stops these cysts from growing? The pill. The pills you use for abortions. Which is also used to stop periods because sometimes they are that painful.

PCOS means you can be at risk for cancer and infertility.

https://www.roswellpark.org/cancertalk/201709/ovarian-cysts-what-are-risks

It is not fun for me. The pain I get from cramps is unbearable and having a cyst, especially when it pops, is painful.

If we lose Roe v. Wade?

That’s going to effect a number of people with ovaries. All the anti-choice, “pro-life” people want to take something away that helps my health and I do want to have a kid.

Thanks, 2016 elections!!

And I can seek breast cancer screening (which killed my grandmother on my mother’s side no less) at Planned Parenthood.

#anti-choice #are you for real #planned parenthood #pro-life #im just going to co-opt the pro-life tag because you all are a bunch of babies #and as soon as that kid is born out of wedlock you shame the moms #pro life also means offering medical and educational care #abortion #roe v wade #abortion rights #men are such babies

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srseattlestreetnews · 8 years ago

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Seattle Street News 44, Crying For Freedom

City News:

Rally for SINless Recognition Marred by Police Violence

This Saturday the SINless and their allies gathered in Westlake Park for a rally and protest. The event brought together numerous community organizers, spoken word poets, VR artists, musicians, and even Redmond Mayor Sonya Scholl spoke briefly about the need for SINless protection and recognition. It wasn’t just a general desire for recognition that brought the SINless together this day, however. It was the crisis surrounding the kidnapping of SINless children and Knight Errant’s Law Enforcement’s lack of response paired with hope that the new administration might change things for the better of all that brought everyone together. There was an estimated three thousand protesters and rally-goers. There were young children and senior citizens. The crowd were at times outraged, at times anguished, at times inspired and full of hope. They spoke of what they hoped to accomplish.

Knight Errant presence was heavy, but local SINless community security force The Knights of Red were also on hand to keep the protesters safe. But it wasn’t enough. Someone in Knight Errant got mad and decided to start shooting at the protesters. It started with Knight Errant officer Augustus Ivan Polk, a man with a reputation for alcoholism and multiple citations for insubordination, who somehow still has a corporate badge, who shot Ork Pedro Tanaka in the belly. Pedro was doing nothing but protesting peacefully, but that didn’t matter to Officer Polk. Polk’s regular partner Patrick Oliver Mahon in “defense” of Polk also shot an unarmed peaceful protester.

The situation threatened to become a riot but the work of KE mages who cast a calming ritual alongside some moving words and song by Ork Underground activist Sarah Brown who led the crowd in a version of the song “Crying for Freedom in the Metroplex,” stopped any further escalation of violence.

Pedro Tanaka’s wife, human Aki Tanaka, well loved tattoo artist in the Barrens spoke passionately and with steely determination before the crowd in the wake of her husband’s shooting.

A Transcript of her speech:

"My husband is an Ork. So he never had a SIN. My parents didn't have SINs so I never had one either. We live in the Barrens. And we are honest people who work hard. I do tattoos and he works on a fishing boat. We have never hurt anyone in this city. We get up, trade for the things we need. We were excited for this last electionl. We couldn't vote, but we had friends in the Underground that finally could. We felt like the future might mean something good for us finally.

"We dreamt that maybe we might be able to walk in the streets outside of the Barrens without fear. That maybe we could go to one of those fancier places and get all the things we only dreamed about getting one day. Nicer food. Nicer clothes. "

"I work out of the burned out building where we live. And I babysit the building’s kids for their parents while they are out doing whatever they can do to survive. But lately some kids have gone missing. There was no one to turn to. Our babies are being kidnapped. And we don't know who's doing it.

“Is it some maniac serial killer cuttin' up us SINless because no one cares? Is it some corp kidnapping us for experiments...again? I don't know. But I've had moms and dads in my tattoo studio crying at night in pain over their missing kids and frustration that no one would listen.So that's why we came here. Because they don't think the lives of our babies matter. And then what happens?

"Some jack-booted corporate thug shoots my man. Sees him only as a SINless piece of trash that can be abused with no consequence. But we have a new governor now, there will be consequences. They took my husband off in a med wagon. But he has no SIN, so he has no medical records. I don't know if they'll actually treat him or if they'll dump him in an alley to die.

"His name is Pedro Tanaka, he is my husband and he is not trash to be dumped. He is SINless, but he is a person.

"This just can't go on anymore."

Although the police violence threatened to turn this protest into a tragedy, SSN is happy to report that, thanks to the work of some good Samaritans, Pedro Tanaka was able to get medical care and he is currently at home recovering. He isn’t able to work while recovering and so the Tanaka family could use help. Any help for the Tanaka family can be delivered to SSN, Sarah Brown, or the Knights of Red.

Despite this violence, the call for SINless recognition will not be silenced. Knight Errant, find out what is happening to our children. Governor Dzhugashvili, start a program to get the SINless recognition.

Open Letter from Lt. Salazar Monroe Concerning the Recognition Rally Violence

Lt. Monroe was not assigned to the protest, had he been, I imagine it would have turned out differently. That said, Monroe is a man of honor and he has taken it on himself to make a statement about the Recognition Rally violence:

Dear citizens of the Seattle Metroplex,

I come to you, in one of our darkest moments, to condemn the actions of two fellow Knight Errant officers. From what I have heard from their sergeants and colleagues on the scene is that they’ve been dealt with and disciplined on-site, but my sources refuse to elaborate. I can only hope that our hands have not shed any more blood than what we have already done today. I trust that the officers who serve under me and were also present understand that we must hold ourselves to a higher standard of ethics. The city has placed a lot of trust in us and we must do everything we can to ensure that everyone in Seattle knows that it is not misplaced. They’ve been burned before, and they’re not eager to find out that they’ve made that mistake again.

What these two officers have done has irrevocably shaken all of us to the core, surely, but please know that this isn’t the Knight Errant I enlisted in, the Knight Errant that trained me, shaped me, molded me into the man I am today. These bad apples must be culled swiftly and precisely before they spoil the rest of the barrel, and though it might already be too late, it’s better late than never.

I didn’t set out to change Knight Errant from the inside, nor did I set out to single-handedly save Baltimore or Seattle from themselves. I enlisted into Knight Errant because I was sick and tired of seeing criminals of all stripes getting away with their schemes while the common man suffered. I set out to ensure that everyone had their dues, from the SINless down in Dundalk to the hotshot corporate types Downtown. Everyone gets their day in court, as it was back in the Fifth World, and as it should be in the Sixth.

I’m on personal leave right now due to...excruciating circumstances that are regrettably beyond my control, but as soon as I come back into the office tomorrow, things are going to change for the better not just for the executives but for the SINless and everyone in-between, I can promise you that. And if you think I can’t live up to that boast? There are a few people in Baltimore who can vouch for me.

Sincerely, Lieutenant Salazar Timothy Monroe

Stoking the Fires—(by Demmalition1)

Eustace Zhalang died the moment she put the revolver in her mouth and pulled the trigger. She’s going to die for a second time in the press tonight after they get ahold of her financial records and skewer her fresh corpse over the burning coals of public opinion. Molotov was after her, you see, and when he sets his sights on something, he won’t stop until it’s dead or close to it. She chose the quick way out, as opposed to being burned alive at the hands of him and his henchmen. Oh, you didn’t know? Yes, he’s recruiting followers like the night of the Christmas tree burning a while back. But back to Ms. Zhalang.

As a citizen of the venerable corporation of Wuxing and a prominent name in many a circle of high society, one would think she had it all. Money and fame were synonymous with her name, and her presence was hard to escape from even when she wasn’t in the room. But she will forever remain a black mark on the face of Wuxing, for she was not a good woman. She destroyed the lives of countless people by running sham charities in the names of noble causes in order to rake in funds from a gullible public. These stolen funds were then used to prop up a multitude of failing businesses, all under her name or the Wuxing banner. When Wuxing found out they let her go and sent her home with a generous package to placate her duplicitous ways. They killed any investigation into her dealings as well in order to quell any negativity against a high ranking executive of the board. Better to hide your sins under the carpet than deal with them openly, I guess. Shortly after her forced retirement she developed lung cancer, it progressed until she turned into a bedridden grey husk at 88 years old.

She was very good at tugging at the heartstrings you see, pulling in money for orphans, SINless, even disease research. Therein lies the rub, the roaring spark that would turn into an inferno. She syphoned research funding that was meant for whichever disease Molotov’s wife had. A horrible woman’s greed and depravity lead to the indirect creation of a monster who seeks nothing but revenge at the crucible of the flame. This money would not have cured his wife, she was too far along and the time too short, but it was enough to grab his attention. She would be an easy hit. After all, who would care about a little old woman who never left her estate? She was going to die soon anyways, might as well finish the job before the reaper could drag her screaming soul down to Hell.

Molotov began the hit by driving in through the front gate with a few accomplices disguised as a catering crew. Once near the front door their decker attacked the cameras and they burst out of the van guns ablaze. Their decker did not, however, destroy the cameras as they had thought. Their actions were all caught on tape. They killed three guards at the front door, one at the gatehouse, and another who came outside soon after. Once inside, the first accomplice, Bai Zhao, is dropped by a drone. Another, Choi Zhao and sibling of Bai, was killed by a guard with an antique spear from a display (bricked smartgun). Nearing Eustace’s last redoubt, she shoots herself before they could get inside and do the deed themselves. I guess that would rob Molotov of some of his satisfaction. Good. When the door was smashed open, a third accomplice, Agnes Peterson, was killed by uzi fire from a guard rushing down the hall. Molotov then burned Eustace’s corpse and killed all staff inside be they butler or cook. He burned their bodies as well before looting the place and escaping with two other then unidentified accomplices. After that he burned the van a mile away from the mansion. A total of 16 people lost their lives that night. The identities of his two surviving Hellhound accomplices are known: one is a female decker by the handle 5t@1k3r (Maria Stoyanova) and another a brute named Charles Whiteman. Investigators already found most of the fenced goods which had tracking RFIDs and were sold well below their street value.

Here’s what we know: all accomplices were members of the Hellhound gang, all were human, and all had a history of violence against the better angels of society. I warned the police over 2 weeks ago of Molotov’s movements, but nothing was done because there was no concrete evidence. 13 innocents and 3 assailants died because of this. The forces of Knight Errant did nothing, in fact they did less than nothing despite the heavily detailed but incomplete information I gave them.

I guess this is what Molotov wanted, to get Eustace’s story out there. Well congratulations you monster, you won. But here’s the thing, you don’t get away with the killing of someone so recklessly in both deed and message. You are going down, Knight Errant has partnered with Wuxing to form a special task force sent out just for you, you special little firebug. I got your home, your hideout in the Cedar Rim Apartments, and your current hideout in the Hellhound Den. I’m watching you right now as I type this. You will not escape The Truth, for it is a fire so pure that it will engulf you and incinerate you until not even ash is left. You will go out dying in agony or in the deepest pit they can throw you in as a broken man.

I spoke to your sister-in-law, Rachael. She spoke of you in a spiteful fashion usually reserved for the tyrants of history. She said you defiled Maki Adsida’s memory with your actions, and how she would be ashamed of you and what you have become. Maki has died a second time. She would kill herself again without hesitation had she known that the monster that she married bombs and burns innocents in her memory. So I’ve decided to do something. You know that picture of you and her that you had in your apartment? The one on the mantle that I saw the night I went there, the one that was conspicuously missing? I’ve burned it. I’ve also destroyed the empty urn you left in her memory after you scattered her ashes. I’m erasing anything that may associate her to you besides this article. That will be her legacy with you: nothing. You are a wretched man who will end up in the annals of history as a monster. You will not make it out, you will not honor her memory, you will not win.

Come find me, I dare you.

The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.

-- Ernest Hemingway, A Call to Arms --

Corp News:

Reflections on the Matrix Services Market

The article is one of a series looking at the current state of individual corporate subsidiaries in the Seattle Metroplex. This particular issue focuses on the Metroplex Matrix Services.

The Matrix Services market is the second largest Market of the Metroplex, right behind media with a value of 219.9¥B. Matrix Services are the life blood of modern society and this life blood is controlled by four megacorporations in Seattle: NeoNET (39.9%), Mitsuhama (36.0%), Horizon (16.7%), and Renraku (7.4%). Matrix Services, unlike Media, has historically been more volatile, with NeoNET viciously attacking Saeder-Krupp’s Matrix division, back in August (See Issue 24) when they still had one, and a flurry of anonymous, not as effective attacks against NeoNET’s Matrix Services two weeks later (See Issue 26). In the months since then, the Matrix Wars seem to have calmed down, but with such an important market sector one never knows what the future will bring.

SSN reached out to NeoNET, Renraku, Mitsuhama, and Horizon for comment on their view of the market, only NeoNET returned any commnent by the time of publication, though if you want a comment by anyone in Matrix Services, it is NeoNET. An executive in NeoNET responded:

Matrix services is a big, boring and, frankly, thankless business. Big, as everyone relies on it and it takes huge capital expenditures to become a significant player. Boring because it generates steady revenues with limited room to grow. Thankless, as customers only remember what company sends the Matrix bill when it stops working for them. Thankless, also, when a longtime customer such as the Seattle Metroplex unfairly terminates a contract. The current state of the market, with two leading companies and two comparatively minor players, reflects the characteristics on which it depends: reliability, to avoid a repeat of the two catastrophic crashes that took place in the last fifty years; resilience, with built-in redundancies; and fairness, as ensured by the monitoring of the recently created Grid Overwatch Division. As a whole, the Matrix services business is second only to Media, which relies heavily on it. Though remarkable for what is seen as just another utility, this fact points to the path for real growth: deliver compelling contents on the Matrix infrastructure. Which is exactly what NeoNET set out to do and why it sponsors events such as the Blast from the Past competition that spotlight the best of both worlds. Coming from the opposite direction, Horizon used the cash generated by its huge Media business to start its in-house Matrix division. Mitsuhama’s big share of the market points to Japan’s long tradition of self-reliance and defiance of foreign meddling. It is difficult to say whether there is more to it for them in the doldrums where they currently are.

Finally, Renraku’s looming presence in Law Enforcement suggests its involvement in both Media and Matrix services may have more to do with surveillance than customer satisfaction. To conclude, NeoNET can be relied on to keep doing its share in preventing a new crash of the Matrix for the foreseeable future and to deliver the best contents on it.

Again, SSN was able to get insight and analysis from one of Seattle’s premier financial analysts, Saeder-Krupp executive Vorack. Gentle readers will be asked to remember the…complicated…relationship Saeder-Krupp and NeoNET have had in the past, especially surrounding Matrix Services:

Vorack: Oh man it’s Matrix time eh, guess its time to ask a simple question. What is the Matrix? The answer is out there, readers, and it's looking for you, and it will find you if you want it to. We at SK are no longer in Matrix at all but that is mainly because of one certain corp trying to push us out in particular, but we will talk about that later. First of all we should talk about matrix as a whole, it pretty much connects the entire world and if you don't use the matrix.... well you're a liar. Look at anything and you'll find a link to the matrix in some way. It might be a product that you bought off the matrix, and let’s say you got it physically, well the person you bought it from probably filled out an order and used the matrix to make that initial purchase, and even if they didn't do that, the person who first wanted the product to be made, oh they connected with the producer through it for sure. This little interview, that's able to happen because of the matrix, all the research I do on all the corps and subs, matrix. That advertising Horizon does, oh the matrix was involved in that. You could say we are all tapped into the matrix, even if we don't think about it. As someone who personally taps into it regularly, looking for information I find it kinda weird, since unfortunately, no one can be told what the matrix is. You'll have to see it for yourself, and its something special. [SSN editor: I thought the Matrix was a series of tubes, no?]

So let’s talk about our history in the matrix, about what’s happened to it and what looks like will continue to happen to it. It started off with four corps investing in it, Mitsuhama, NeoNET, Renraku and Horizon. Us here at SK joined in at one point but we were pretty much pushed out by some heavy opposition and completely bought out later on, I swear I’ll go into details about this later. All in all, Matrix has been a safe industry to be in, as profits continue to raise and the market value seems to be constantly rising with very little infighting, well except for what happened to us, but that's another story. The first big event in this industry happened to be SK dipping our toes into the segment, but mainly using it as a platform to show off what we had been working on, show off our products and maybe help recruitment in some way. And I just want it known that SK was the first corp to do this! Matrix had never been used to specifically promote an entire AAA Corporation up to that point, we were trend setters and other companies ended up copying us later on and maybe this is why we were so unjustly targeted, but anyways. Then before we knew it Renraku and Mitsuhama did something massive, something drastic. Clearly Mitsu wanted to be the big boys when it came to Matrix as they traded everything they had in Law and Heavy Industry to Renraku for 40B worth of their Matrix division. (I gotta say this seemed to end up being a good deal for Renraku, they are one of two Corps left in Heavy industry aside from ourselves, and in Law enforcement they are only beaten out by Ares and only by a small amount). All of a sudden it was a competition to see who would be the larger force, was it NeoNET or was it Mitsuhama? NeoNET always seemed to be a bit behind and even to this day they are still playing second to Mitsu. [SSN editor: Fact Check. NeoNET is the current market leader and have been consistently in the Matrix Services market segment.]

I guess this is where I should mention the act that I've been hinting at, the unjust and outrageous attack NeoNET did against our Matrix division. Where NeoNET tried to completely reduce and destroy 100% of our industry all because we defended ourselves from them and perhaps they were jealous. I am happy and proud to say that they were ineffective at doing so and in the end they just hurt themselves. They might have destroyed 67% of our entire Matrix segment but we were able to hold them off and the entire time this transpired, we had a secret going on with their own division. I’ll admit it here for the first time, SSN you are getting one hell of an exclusive in this, I am damn proud to say we had a team of SK workers inside NeoNET's entire matrix R&D crew for well over a month and easily learned their secrets, more than enough to pay for 116% of any damage they ever caused us. The real kicker here is that us at SK apparently traded our 5.7B matrix division (which was mainly valued that high because of the work NeoNET had done and we had taken) to NeoNET for their Robotics segment which was estimated to be worth over 15B. Though I was "occupied" at this time and can’t confirm this. Seems like we clearly pulled ahead as the winners at that one.

One other main event has happened in Matrix, and it happens to feature our good friends over at NeoNET yet again. Two weeks after they attacked us, it seems karma decided to show her fickle head and something happened to them. They were attacked, over and over again and it was glorious. To this day I don't know who did this, I don't know which of the corps decided to stand up against them and in doing so, defend SK in their own way, but I have to say thank you. Be it Renraku our long time allies and friends, Mitsuhama a generally unknown and quiet competitor or maybe even Horizon the Media powerhouse, I send my thanks personally to whoever took NeoNET down a peg and reduced their market value by a noticeable 28% or a large 24B Nuyen. I don't usually condone these sort of attacks, but for this one, you have my respect and my appreciation. So who knows what’s gonna happen with Matrix, which of the two corps, be it NeoNET or Mitsu, stays ahead. There could be more attacks as it seems to have been awhile since the last major event. I know I personally have no idea what will happen. As a whole, SK seems uninterested in rejoining the division, but I would be lying if I didn't say I use Renraku's services for my own needs and I hope they continue to do well.

Vorack broke some interesting news and my own research corroborates that indeed NeoNet’s Matrix Services had been plagued by espionage problems around the time that Vorack claims SK had been spying on NeoNET. As for Vorack’s claims that they had nothing to do with the flurry of attacks that NeoNET suffered two weeks after they attacked SK (it should be noted NeoNET claims that round of attacks were retaliatory for an ealier SK transgression)? Well, maybe they didn’t attack NeoNET or maybe they did. That is something that only the attackers know. That said, will Matrix Services remain quiet? Or might it become the next battleground in the Corporate Wars?

Features:

Once More 4--(by Breach)

On February 8th, 2029, computer systems around the world began to fail - sometimes spectacularly, actually burning out hardware in the process - as an unknown virus ravaged world networks. Within months, the Internet - the precursor to our Matrix - lay in ruins, and distrust of communication and computers ran rampant. Seattle’s Redmond district, once home to the greatest technological companies in the world, was especially ravaged by the virus and the subsequent riots against technology’s masters. Now, over forty-five years later, it still has not recovered; it’s hard to believe the Barrens were once one of the richest and most luxurious parts of the city.

The Crash Virus did more than destroy computers, as those computers ran systems that the world depended on. Safety protocols were breached globally, causing outbreaks of once-contained pathogens and experiments in population centers, as well as sabotaging the control systems of the many orbital platforms surrounding the Earth; the direct, immediate death toll of February 8th was in the tens of thousands, with the long-term death toll reaching the millions.

The United States government organized a response to the virus; a team, dubbed “Echo Mirage”, was formed from leading computer scientists and military cybersecurity specialists. The team utilized then-revolutionary cyberterminal technology to enter the Internet and computer systems to combat the virus directly in cyberspace.

They failed completely.

A month later, Echo Mirage was reformed using less conventional expertise; fringe theorists, white-hat hackers, conspiracy nuts and wide-eyed dreamers were recruited instead. Today, we’d recognize the attributes of most of the people, and it’s widely accepted that Echo Mirage was the first team of “Shadowrunners”.

Cyberterminal technology continued to advance, and at the end of August, the new Echo Mirage team once again attempted to battle the Virus and save the Internet; and while not a complete failure, they were once again rebuffed by the destructive computer worm. Four members of the team were killed by lethal biofeedback - destructive impulses sent to their bodies through the ASIST interfaces of their cyberterminals.

By the end of the year, Echo Mirage has mastered their cyberterminals and discovered new ways to defend against the Virus’s biofeedback, and over the course of the next few years, they actually managed to isolate and contain the Crash Virus. The Internet never truly recovered, but enough infrastructure was eventually saved to allow the creation of the first Matrix.

The Corporate Court would spearhead this initiative in 2032, finishing the transition of our communication infrastructure from its government-sponsored beginning to our modern corporate-owned reality.

Questions about history? Ask Breach! [email protected]

Seattle Street News is an independent activist news source released weekly on Tuesdays or Wednesdays

[Watch CorporateSINs on every Wednesday, 6pm PST or on Youtube at, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h11c7BLFQtc&list=PLHKocVDXoWBtzze1SGGUnU6KB5UFrDLFo]

#CorpSINs #Hyper_RPG #shadowrun

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matthewshaley1996 · 4 years ago

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Reiki Master Miami Eye-Opening Tips

If you are attuned to, prepare yourself to your stationery.There are number of days, some hold two sessions over two days.Knowing about the Reiki Master present to attune oneself for the cheaper price.For example, Eagle offers us a way of life.

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Reiki 7 Chakras Healing

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Reiki Chakra Positions

Ask your friends, your family members or anybody who hasn't been attuned in some cases, there is something which help in healing people by using these natural remedies and beliefs about imagination and need to drink lots of ads.She realized that she would allow a patient downs his defenses and demands a cure, he opens himself to be processed or released.At one time, only Japanese men knew Reiki and conduct attunement exercises.Reiki is a comprehensive lineage chart, timeline, extensive glossary and general well-being.This is when what seems like general chit-chat or drinking water occurs.

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#Reiki Master Miami Eye-Opening Tips #Learn Reiki In Gurgaon

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enzaime-blog · 7 years ago

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Susan, back to her active routine after her chordoma surgery

New Story has been published on http://enzaime.com/susan-back-active-routine-chordoma-surgery/

Susan, back to her active routine after her chordoma surgery

November 4th was Susan’s wedding anniversary, and she and her husband Tim were in the car on their way to The Johns Hopkins Hospital. Just two weeks earlier, Susan had been diagnosed with a chordoma, a tumor that was growing at the base of her spine.

“As an active, lifelong health, nutrition and fitness practitioner who has never been hospitalized, I was in shock.” says Susan. “For the first time in my life, my world suddenly felt like it had spun out of control.”

On the way to Baltimore, Tim asked one more time: “Do you want to keep going, or do you want to just go to the airport and fly someplace wonderful?”

Susan, thinking of future trips and adventures she wanted to share with him, said, “Keep going.”

Chordoma: A Rare Diagnosis

Chordoma is a rare tumor. In Susan’s case, the doctors had caught it early. But she says the diagnosis sent her reeling.

Her general practitioner recommended a specialist in surgery for chordoma tumors: Dan Sciubba, M.D. After the consultation, Sciubba recommended a surgery called distal sacrectomy that would involve removing a section including several bones — along with the tumor — from the base of Susan’s spine.

Sciubba says, “Chordomas affect literally one in a million people, about 300 each year in the U.S. The Johns Hopkins Neurosurgical Spine Center is a popular place for patients with chordomas, and as a result, I operate on these tumors regularly. Chemo and radiation don’t work effectively with chordomas; often the only way to address them is to operate.”

Essential Expertise

Surgery for chordomas is complex. Complete removal is a must, since the risk of recurrence is high. At the same time, the neurosurgeon must take care not to harm the delicate nerves branching off of the spinal cord that give the patient the ability to walk and experience sensation in her lower body. The team must include a skilled plastic surgeon to reconstruct the lower back and close the large incisions associated with sacrectomy.

Knowing the kind of skill required to address the chordoma was what kept her on the road to Johns Hopkins. Susan says Sciubba had the communication style she was looking for: direct, informative and compassionate. She and her husband left the first consultation with a realistic view of what they were facing, along with a good measure of hope.

Susan says, “I had immediate peace of mind knowing I had made the right decision with Dr. Sciubba and [Johns] Hopkins.”

Johns Hopkins saved my life. I told Dr. Sciubba that the women in my family live well into their late 80s, 90s and beyond, and I didn’t want to be the one to break that streak. Now I have every hope and confidence that I will carry on that family record.

Sciubba says, “Susan had read up on these tumors, and I was very clear with her about the risks involved in this major surgery. We would have to amputate several bones in Susan’s sacrum (lower spine) and include margins of healthy tissue to ensure we remove all the cancer. She was understandably afraid. There was a chance that the surgery can leave a patient with loss of lower body function, including the ability to walk.

“But once she made the choice to go ahead with the surgery, she went for it and was super tough. Her courage paid off. We were able to preserve the important nerves in her pelvis and got a terrific result.”

Skill, Compassion and a Touch of ‘Zen’

Susan is also grateful for coordination among the members of her entire care team. She writes, “Dr. Sciubba and his surgical team, including [physician assistant] Reese Rosato and [medical office coordinator] Valerie Buxton-Punch were empathetic and responsive to any questions and concerns that I had. I’m sure Reese fields a multitude of emails daily, yet her thoughtful, informed and speedy responses made me feel like I was her only patient!”

She notes that her anesthesiologist, Dr. Thai Tran Nguyen, and her plastic surgeon Dr. Oluseyi Aliu took time to comfort her and her husband before, during and after surgery.

She says, “My first night in the neuro-critical care unit, [nurses] Carly Martini and Katie made me comfortable and reassured me. Carly was able to quickly discern that the pain meds were too strong for my body, which was not used to anything stronger than an occasional [naproxen]. She quickly ‘downgraded’ me to less powerful medications.”

Susan appreciated the details that went into her care at the NCCU. “When Carly came in, she’d always gently turn me and rearrange the sheets so they were more comfortable. She called it ‘Zen-ing’ the bed.”

Susan recovering from her surgery, with the support of her Johns Hopkins nurses and technologists.

Coaches for Recovery

“I have no words to express my gratitude for the care of the nurses and techs on the neurological floor. Shannon, Brittany, Angela, So’Nita – I’m grateful they were there. They not only did their work efficiently, they listened, laughed and communicated with me.” During one procedure that Susan feared, she writes that So’Nita managed to help her relax and actually laugh.

The team’s support continued as Susan got better. “As I made my laps around the floor, first with shuffling steps, then with longer, more confident strides, the nurses and techs behind the desks or walking by cheered me on like I was an athlete.”

As she acknowledges everyone who helped her, Susan has the most gratitude for her neurosurgeon. She writes, “Dr. Sciubba worked meticulously to save the nerve roots and minimize long-term nerve damage. And the best news is that he excised the entire tumor with clean margins! They got it all. It may be a rare tumor, but not for Hopkins.”

The Way Onward

On December 13th, Susan celebrated her birthday, and on that day Aliu, her plastic and reconstructive surgeon, removed the last of the drains, sutures and dressings. Susan says he gave her a hug, wished her well and asked her to keep in touch.

Susan’s homecoming was triumphant. “Tim took all the signs down in our home that read ‘No bending, no lifting, no twisting, no sitting, no steps’ and replaced them with ‘Bend! Lift! Twist! Sit!’”

“I am back to work, the gym, my painting, my causes, my life,” Susan says. “I never needed to open the bottle of pain meds they sent me home with. I am fully functional and have none of the long-term damage that can accompany this type of procedure. I know that not everyone is as fortunate as I was, but I believe my great results had a lot to do with early detection, taking good care of myself and the wonderful care I received from my Johns Hopkins team.

“I feel great, and know that I’m only going to get stronger and feel better with additional recovery time.”

#After surgery #Christine Gourin M.D #lower spine #Cancer

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christfocused · 7 years ago

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Jesus is God of the How - Episode 31

Sometimes it can seem overwhelming. Moments, situations, goals, whatever. You have no idea how this thing will work out. How will you overcome this situation? How will you accomplish this goal? How will you endure this moment?

Maybe your family member has cancer. Maybe your spouse has left you. Maybe you’ve started a new job or created a new business. Whatever that thing. You wonder, how will this work out?

And this is what you need to know - Jesus is God of the How. And that is our takeaway for today’s lesson. Jesus takes care of the How, we just need to be faithful.

We are still pursuing the glory of God in Jesus Christ. To learn of God’s glory, we are looking at the seven signs performed by Jesus which are recorded in the Gospel of John. Today we continue in John 6. Let’s read John 6:16-21

Now when evening came, His disciples went down to the sea, 17 got into the boat, and went over the sea toward Capernaum. And it was already dark, and Jesus had not come to them. 18 Then the sea arose because a great wind was blowing. 19 So when they had rowed about three or four miles,[a] they saw Jesus walking on the sea and drawing near the boat; and they were afraid. 20 But He said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.” 21 Then they willingly received Him into the boat, and immediately the boat was at the land where they were going.

Both Matthew and Mark record the same event. I want us to look at Mark’s version now and examine Matthew’s later. Here is Mark 6:45-52

Immediately He made His disciples get into the boat and go before Him to the other side, to Bethsaida, while He sent the multitude away. 46 And when He had sent them away, He departed to the mountain to pray. 47 Now when evening came, the boat was in the middle of the sea; and He was alone on the land. 48 Then He saw them straining at rowing, for the wind was against them. Now about the fourth watch of the night He came to them, walking on the sea, and would have passed them by. 49 And when they saw Him walking on the sea, they supposed it was a ghost, and cried out; 50 for they all saw Him and were troubled. But immediately He talked with them and said to them, “Be of good cheer! It is I; do not be afraid.” 51 Then He went up into the boat to them, and the wind ceased. And they were greatly amazed in themselves beyond measure, and marveled. 52 For they had not understood about the loaves, because their heart was hardened.

Now let’s put John and Mark together.

Jesus puts the 12 in a boat and sends them back across the sea of Galilee.

They rowed about 3-4 miles. But the going gets tough because of the storm.

During the 4th watch or between 3-6 am Jesus comes walking across the water.

At the end of Mark’s account, we learn that the hearts of the 12 were still hardened toward Jesus. In other words, many still did not believe that He is God.

I was born in Jacksonville Florida. For the first 5 years of my life, we lived along the panhandle of Florida – Lake City, Tallahassee, and Panama City. But shortly after turning 5 we moved to Atlanta.

When we moved to Atlanta my parents rented an apartment. The apartment complex had a pool. It was around this time that I learned the story of Jesus walking on the water.

So, like any kid, as soon as the pool opened I had to try. And you know what!?! I mustered up all the faith I had and stepped out on the water.....and I sank. On the first step, I went straight to the bottom of the pool.

Why is it we cannot walk on water? Boats and water bugs can move across the top of the water. Why can’t I? Sciencemag.org explains it this way.

“There’s a simple reason you can’t walk on water: Humans are so big that the force of gravity overcomes the so-called surface tension of water, making us sink.“

So how did Jesus walk on the water? Jesus is fully God and fully human. Why didn’t He sink? Did He change the surface tension? HOW did He do it? I don’t know HOW He did it. The HOW does not matter. I only need to be faithful. We just need to believe.

I don’t know HOW He did it. The HOW does not matter. I only need to be faithful. We just need to believe. Remember, that is today’s takeaway. Jesus is God of the How. We only need to be faithful.

Let’s pursue this idea a bit further. Turn to Matthew 14:22. Here is Matthew’s version of the story. It is much the same but with something different and surprising. Let's start at verse 25.Now in the fourth watch of the

Now in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went to them, walking on the sea. 26 And when the disciples saw Him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out for fear.

Now in the fourth watch of the night, Jesus went to them, walking on the sea. 26 And when the disciples saw Him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out for fear. 27 But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, “Be of good cheer! It is I; do not be afraid.” 28 And Peter answered Him and said, “Lord, if it is You, command me to come to You on the water.” 29 So He said, “Come.” And when Peter had come down out of the boat, he walked on the water to go to Jesus. 30 But when he saw that the wind was boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink he cried out, saying, “Lord, save me!” 31 And immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and caught him, and said to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” 32 And when they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33 Then those who were in the boat came and[c] worshiped Him, saying, “Truly You are the Son of God.”

Before we look at the text I want you to answer a question.

What in your life seems overwhelming or impossible?

It should be something you must deal with, something that confronts you.

I have a few. Let me share one. I know that God called me to Wakefield to lead this church to a place of health and growth. And there was a time, about a year and a half ago that I thought we were on the way to such. Now not so. We have in the last year lost people, and I am very concerned. I want to figure out how to fix this problem.

What about you? What is that thing that seems impossible? Maybe your spouse or child is far from God. You want desperately for them to turn to Christ. But it seems impossible.

Maybe your marriage is struggling. Maybe your job offers you no future. Maybe......well you fill in the blank.

You can see what this situation ought to be but you cannot figure out HOW to get there.

Recently, Andy Stanley, in his book Visioneering reminded me that God is God of how and we just need to be faithful.

Look again at the story. As Jesus is walking up to the boat, Peter says in verse 28, “Lord, if it is You, command me to come to You on the water.” Now Peter has spent a lifetime on the water. He’s not some 5-year-old kid at the local pool testing the laws of Science. Peter knows that people sink when they step out on the water. But he has faith in Jesus. And if Jesus tells him to walk on the water, then walk on the water he will.

Peter doesn’t know how he will walk any more than he knows how Jesus walks. Peter will let Jesus worry about the how. Peter will just be faithful. So in verse 29 Peter gets out of the boat and starts to walk on the water toward Jesus.

It is natural that when God begins to take care of the how we either begin to take personal credit or become fearful of the things we cannot control, the things that surround us. And that is what happens to Peter. In verse 30 we read, “But when he saw that the wind was boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink he cried out, saying, “Lord, save me!” And of course, Jesus saves Peter.

I know your situation looks impossible. I know that the problem or goal you have is overwhelming. But you need only to be faithful. Do what God has called you to do and let God take care of the How.

Now when I say that we only need to be faithful, I do not mean that we just sit passively waiting for God to work. As we respond in faith there are steps to take. Remember Peter did get out of the boat. And Peter did take steps toward Jesus.

As God takes care of the HOW you should be doing what God has called you to do. God has called all churches to fulfill the Great Commission. At Wakefield, we made the Great Commission into our mission statement which is to Share Christ and to Build believers.

I need to be faithful to that. I need to share Christ and build believers. Those who attend Wakefield need to be doing the same. We need to be doing our part. And as we do that, God will take care of the how.

I asked you earlier to think about that overwhelming thing. Now here is a simple question to move you forward as God takes care of the how.

What actions could you take as God takes care of the HOW?

Take a few minutes. Write down what you can be doing. What will be your steps of faith?

Here’s an example of what I am talking about. If your spouse is unsaved and that seems overwhelming, what actions can you be doing as God takes care of the how?

Here are a few that come to mind:

Pray

Live the life that the Bible teaches you to live.

Submit yourself to the direction and needs of your spouse.

Share truth of Jesus with your spouse.

At the end of Matthew, the 12 worshipped Jesus and declared Him to be the Son of God. Even after the feeding of the 5,000 they still did not understand who Jesus was. But when He walked on the water, when Peter did as well, and when Jesus reached down and saved Peter, they knew that He was God the Son.

When we begin to walk in faith and allow God to take care of the how, then we will see Jesus for who He is - God the Son.

All of what I taught today was taught with a believer in mind. So if you do not believe on Jesus Christ, here are a few short words for you. You really only have one overwhelming thing in your life. Only one thing!? Yes, and here it is. The problem is you have unforgiven sin.

Now some of you are thinking, “That doesn’t seem so bad.” But truly it is. Because of unforgiven sin, you are far from God. You were created to be a child of God, to have a relationship with God, but your sin keeps that from happening. And some day, when you die, because you do not have this relationship, you will be sent to hell and ultimately the Lake of Fire forever.

So HOW do you fix this? Don’t worry. God has taken care of the HOW. God the Father sent His Son Jesus to take care of the how. Jesus died for your sin. All you need to do is respond in faith.

I love Romans 10:11, “Whoever believes on Him will not be put to shame.” In other words, there is no hell for those who believe on Jesus. So listener, believe today.

When you can, drop over to www.wakefieldbible.org and use the contact page to say hello. We would love to hear from you. I will see you next time. Bye.

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#glory #glory of Christ

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