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judgmentofcorruption · 5 years ago

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Episode 4–Farewell My Friend; Scene 3

Judgment of Corruption, pages 115-124

Gallerian’s injuries hadn’t completely healed up.

Rather than the wound from the bullet Shiro had fired at him, the frostbite had been more severe. It seemed he still couldn’t really move the pinky on his right hand.

Gallerian was resting in ‘Lunaca Labora’ again today for the purpose of recovery.

Though, he wasn’t doing anything special in particular. He had just swallowed a medicine capsule that Ma had prepared for him and rubbed some clear gel on his finger. But according to Ma, these medicines were of a sort that couldn’t be refined at this facility. And Ma was the only one who could make them.

“I’m not a doctor, so I don’t understand all of it. –However, you’ll probably never be able to use that finger again,” Ma had told him, yet even so she continued to apply the medicine to give Gallerian at least a sliver of hope.

Though he couldn’t move his pinkie, he could at least hold a pen.

That night, he was reading over something on a sheet of paper at the desk that had been set aside for him.

“—Don’t work too hard.”

Before he knew it, another man was in the room.

“Bruno. You came.”

“Yeah. I wanted to see how you were doing. How has it been living here?”

“Outside of it being inconvenient to head to other towns, it’s been alright.”

“You’re not in any position to be going outside much anyway. You need to be patient a little while longer—How are you for food? Have you been eating well?” Bruno said, bringing out a largish package. “I might not look it, but I’m quite skilled at cooking. I don’t know if it’ll suit your tastes, but I’ll make something for you now.”

“Ah…That’s very kind of you. But—"

Before Gallerian could finish speaking, a girl appeared from the opening in the space carrying a tray lined with food.

“Sorry to keep you waiting~ I’ve finished your supper.”

Bruno looked surprised at seeing her face. “Lady…Mira! What are you doing here—”

“Oh, Bruno. So you’re here. Good evening!”

“…You as well. –Hey, Gallerian.” Bruno walked up to Gallerian and whispered in his ear, “Why is she here in Lunaca Labora? Isn’t she Loki’s girlfriend!?”

“Yeah…She insisted on taking care of me. I figured I might as well let her.”

“Are you a fool?! If Loki gets wind of this, the plan will be ruined!”

“Mira won’t betray me. And her brother has promised to help us. –Mira’s already our ally.”

“…It’s not wise to be so trusting. Have you forgotten so soon that you were betrayed by your best friend?”

Dumbfounded, Bruno tossed the package he’d been carrying aside and sat down in a nearby chair.

Mira casually set some food down on the desk and turned to Bruno. “I made quite a bit—will you be having some, Bruno?”

“No, I—”

“You’re already here, join in. The herring quiche she makes is delicious.”

Thus urged by Gallerian, Bruno reluctantly nodded.

“Wait right there. I’ll go get some now.”

Mira happily passed through the opening and out the room.

“—How often does she come here?”

At Bruno’s question Gallerian replied, while continuing to write, “On days when she doesn’t meet Loki after work. Probably about two or three times a week.”

“Does she stay here?”

“Mira drives here by automobile, but even so it’s dangerous for a woman to be on the road at night alone.”

“A woman driving a car. I’m surprised.”

“You didn’t know?”

“She’s Loki’s girlfriend. Naturally I’ve seen her many times before, but I’ve never had an actual conversation with her.”

“Well, Mira is a daughter of the Yarera Zusco Conglomerate. She should at least be able to rate driving as one of her accomplishments, wouldn’t you think?”

“—You’ve been writing something for some time now…”

When Bruno asked his question, Gallerian stopped writing and turned to him.

“I’m preparing my bill of indictment. I have most of the information assembled here so I’m putting it all together. –I’ve also properly put in the details you wanted me to add, so relax.”

“Thank you. If you hadn’t I don’t think there would have been much point in having you work with us.”

“—I think now that I’ve heard all that, I have the gist of why you bear a grudge against the Freezises, Bruno.”

“…I don’t bear a grudge against them. I just want to stop their evil deeds.”

“To keep there from being any more victims like you, you mean?”

Bruno’s expression grew more severe. “…Who did you hear this from? Ma?”

“I didn’t hear anything from anyone. I was just able to put together a guess based on the contents of your complaint and your current circumstances.”

“You shouldn’t be drawing conclusions on someone like me based solely on a guess.”

“Then tell me the true version yourself.”

On seeing Gallerian’s gravely serious gaze as he pushed, Bruno made a resigned sigh.

“—I was born a slave. From a young age I worked for my master, a farmer, in the United States of Maistia alongside my parents, my older brothers, and my little sister. I can’t say we were happy, but we weren’t necessarily unhappy either. The work was hard, but at least our family was together, and we never had to worry about our next meal. But when I was twelve years old, our master fell on hard times and sold my family to the Freezis Conglomerate. …Our hell began from that point on.”

There was bitterness in Bruno’s eyes as he spoke.

“The Freezises are the largest trade organization in the United States of Maistia. So naturally my parents and siblings had hoped for better treatment. But the reality was the exact opposite. They thought of the Black Valkyrians who are native to Maista as little more than chattel. They furnished us with filthy shacks as small as animal pens, and worked us twenty-four hours a day—The fact of the matter is that the Freezises’ lofty achievements are comprised of the sacrifices of us Black Valkyrians. …And then, one day, I and my entire family were made to play in a ‘game’ with one of the Freezis Family’s sons.”

“…Loki?”

“That’s right. At the time he was a very young brat. About the same age as my sister, but he wore much nicer clothes and had a healthier complexion, probably because he was always eating good food. –We were set loose to run in a forest, and then made into prey for Loki’s ‘human hunt’. My little sister was the first one he shot. She was his first kill in his life. So, ghastly enough, my sister’s body was stuffed and put up in Loki’s room, where it remains to this day.”

“—This story makes me ill.”

“My parents and my older brothers were all killed as well. A child though he might have been, unarmed we had no hope of fighting back against someone with a gun. …I survived to the end, and as a “reward” I was elevated in status to being a butler of the Freezis Family. Despite that though, nothing really changed in how I was treated. On the contrary, you could say it got worse. There were several other Black Valkyria stewards like myself. But all of them had died off by the time I became an adult. Sometimes they would break down and die from overwork, and sometimes they would despair of their circumstances and kill themselves.”

“But…you managed to survive.”

“I just couldn’t let myself die. I knew that I had to find some way to live until the day when I could settle the score for my friends and family. During that time, little by little I made my preparations, and gained new friends. …The first one I met was Shiro Netsuma.”

“The woman who shot me.”

“Would you just forget that already? Ordinarily she’s a very kind girl. Even her shooting you was solely to save your life. –Shiro is a Netsuma. And you may know this already, but Netsuma are a race that’s always been discriminated against here in the Evillious region. Just as the Black Valkyrians are in Maistia.”

“So you two were able to sympathize with each other over your similar circumstances.”

Bruno faintly smiled at Gallerian’s words.

“Though, the way she was treated by the Freezis Conglomerate is far superior to how I’m treated. Surprisingly enough they’re quite hospitable to the Netsuma clan.”

“That’s because the Freezis Conglomerate has deep ties to the Sisters of Clarith. The founder of that organization was also a Netsuma, if memory serves.”

“Shiro was hired on as the bodyguard for Commander Freezis. Banking on her skill with a gun, you see. That she would promise to aid me despite being in such a position—they truly offended her sense of justice. After that, I quietly added Hel Jaakko and Feng Li to my group of allies.”

“Hel is a clerk for the conglomerate, and Feng is…a pet, wasn’t he?”

“Feng’s origins are fairly interesting. He was born in ‘Mukoku’ to the east.”

“’Mukoku’…Is that that legendary ‘nothing country’?”

“I think if you have a spare moment you should ask him about it next time you see him.”

“—There is one other, that fellow called Postman. The delivery person who doesn’t speak.”

“Ma brought them along. As for what kind of person Postman is…Frankly, I don’t know myself. They never say anything, so we can’t exactly talk about it. Well—I’m certain of their job at least.”

“How did you and Ma meet? I wouldn’t think there’s much that the Freezises’ butler and a screenwriter would have in common.”

Bruno had been quite loquacious up to this point, but when Gallerian said that his expression immediately grew conflicted.

“Well…That’s not really worth going over.”

“Whether you or Ma, you both clam up on the issue of your relationship. –You two wouldn’t happen to be dating, would you?”

“Absolutely not,” Bruno firmly denied.

“…Ah, whatever. Doesn’t look like I’ll get an answer out of you no matter how much questioning I do. Let’s change the subject. About this indictment here—” Gallerian showed the paper he was writing to Bruno. “Even if, for the sake of argument, I send this to the World Police, I don’t know if they’ll do anything. There is a very strong connection between the World Police and the Freezises. In the worst case scenario they may just crumple it up.”

“I know. That’s why—we’ll use the media. When you hand in your bill of indictment to the World Police, at the same time we’ll send a letter with the same contents to the newspapers and radio stations. The media may not lend an ear to a mere Maistians’ grievances, albeit… But the indictments of a man who’s an elite as a judge of the Dark Star Bureau, and was publicly thought dead to boot—the response would be different.”

“So if it’s reported on a broad scale, you’re saying that the World Police will have no choice but to take action.”

“Our biggest concern is whether or not Hanma Baldured will act according to our expectations. Hel has met with him several times already, but apparently he’s a hard man to read. Honestly the fastest method would be to have you act as the head judge, but—”

“The one making the lawsuit can’t work as the head judge for the trial.”

“That’s true. So ultimately the deciding factor is going to be how much money the Yarera Zusco Conglomerate is able to set forward. And how Hanma will act in response to it…”

“’Money is the best lawyer in hell’…so it goes.”

Mira returned with the food in her hand.

“Sorry for the wait! It took a little time to heat it back up. I don’t really know how to use the kitchen here…Alright, help yourself.”

“…Thank you very much.” After being handed the herring quiche, Bruno gave his thanks and then brought it to his mouth. “—It’s tasty.”

“Right?” Gallerian then butted in, grinning, “—Five days from now I’ll finish this indictment and head to the World Police. Is that alright?”

“Yes. We’ll have our preparations set in order by then.”

“Are you going to stay here today?”

“No, it wouldn’t be good for Loki to take issue with me for being absent. And—I feel I’d get in the way.” Bruno looked at both Gallerian and Mira’s faces and then got up from his seat. “I shall have the leftovers of my quiche on the way home. Well then—”

He scooped up the bundle that he’d carried in, put the quiche inside, and left.

Five days later, Gallerian sent the bill of indictment to the World Police as planned.

At the same time, his survival and the contents of his indictment were sent en masse to every media company.

Another day after that. Second Level Judicial Aide of the Dark Star Courthouse Loki Freezis was captured and arrested by the World Police.

The primary charges were “Attempted murder” of Gallerian at first, but later it was changed to “murder” in accordance with the contents of the indictment.

One month after that Loki was prosecuted, and made to receive trial at the Dark Star Courthouse.

The one acting as head judge was Hanma Baldured.

--About a whole year had passed since Gallerian was almost killed by Loki in the snow field.

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jennymanrique · 4 years ago

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COVID-19 fuels the threat of global famine

The pandemic has exacerbated food insecurity around the world. The World Food Program is short of resources to alleviate hunger.

Conflicts, climate change and now COVID-19 are the three C’s driving 270 million people to famine in the most impoverished countries in Asia, the Middle East, Africa, Central and Latin America. Officials at the World Food Program (WFP), the hunger relief arm of the United Nations that feeds about a hundred million people each year in some 88 countries, warned that they are running out of resources to meet the demand for staple foods and thus prevent people dying from starvation.

“We are asking globally $13.5 billion for our budget this year, but we forecast being able to raise only about $7.8 billion,” said Steve Taravella, WFP’s senior spokesperson at a briefing organized by Ethnic Media Services on Feb. 26.

Before the pandemic, there were about 135 million people acutely hungry in the world, but the collateral economic impacts of the virus have doubled that number. WFP estimates that in 2021, about 19,000 officials working in developing countries will have to duplicate efforts to serve at least 120 million people, in hardest-hit places like Yemen, South Sudan, Nigeria and Burkina Faso.

“For some years WFP and others working on global hunger were really effective in bringing hunger down to what we hoped would be the zero hunger goal of the UN by 2030. It’s pretty clear now, that’s not going to happen,” Taravella said. “COVID is making the poorest of the world poorer and the hungriest of the world hungrier.”

WFP won the Nobel Peace Prize last year for its efforts to eradicate hunger in areas where natural disasters and conflict have disrupted normal food distribution channels. Areas where bombed roads prevent trucks carrying flour, rice, lentils, peas, cooking oil and salt from getting through. Areas where airstrikes destroy planes carrying dietary supplies. Areas where incessant fighting prevents hungry people from venturing out for food or aid workers from moving safely to provide it, at a time when crops cannot be harvested.

“There have been terrorist acts against villagers and aid workers by Al-Qaeda Al-Shabaab, Boko Haram and ISIS,” Taravella said. Recently, a WFP staff member was killed in the Democratic Republic of the Congo while accompanying the Italian ambassador on a visit to a school feeding site.

WFP provides school meals in the classrooms, helps pregnant women and new mothers to understand nutrition, and supports small farmers to find markets for their produce.

“We work very closely with governments but we see ourselves there only as a temporary band-aid. Our goal is to help build the country’s capacity to manage the programs,” said Taravella.

Although the WFP does not operate food banks in the United States, immigrants in the country have contributed greatly to alleviating hunger in their homelands after natural disasters such as the typhoon that devastated the Philippines or the hurricanes in Central America. But COVID has also impacted remittances.

Devastating hurricanes

“When COVID hit, we were really hoping that the hurricane season will be a quiet one as we had a few years ago, but that was not the case,” said Elio Rujano, communications officer for the WFP’’s regional bureau for Central America and the Caribbean.

The 2020 season produced 30 named storms, of which 13 became hurricanes, six of them devastating in scope. Eta and Iota ravaged areas in Guatemala, Honduras and Nicaragua while tropical storm Amanda hit El Salvador. Since 2014, these countries have already been experiencing prolonged periods of droughts or excessive rains caused by the El Niño phenomenon, both causing the destruction of crops and the livelihood of farmer families.

“In the past we were only focusing on the dry corridor where rural farmers live, but now, because of the pandemic, hunger has expanded to urban areas,” Rujano said from his Panama City office. “50% of the labor in Latin America and Central America is informal labor. People work on the streets, and since they could no longer go out, they couldn’t meet their basic needs.”

Back in 2018, hunger in the region was affecting 2.2 million people and that number is approaching nearly 8 million in 2021.

Here WFP works to support communities to become more resilient to climate change. They teach them to replace the plantation of fragile products such as beans and maize with beekeeping, since honey can be stored for longer periods. They also provide people with cash transfers to buy food at local shops and teach them about nutrition.

Rujano estimates that they could serve up to 2.6 million people this year if they reach $47 millions in donations to reach that population.

Malnourished children in Yemen

Although the situation in Central America is worrying, in places like Yemen where conflict is the main driver of the hunger crisis, the figures are even more chilling. Since the end of 2018, this country has been described as the home of the world’s largest humanitarian crisis. Six years of war between the Houthi rebels who control the north of the country and the nationally recognized government dominating the south, have devastated infrastructure, destroyed agricultural land, eroded government services and left the healthcare system on its knees.

About 4 million people out of a population of 30 have become internal refugees while food prices are on average 140 times higher than before the war.

“The hunger situation right now in Yemen has hit a new peak,” said Annabel Symington, head of communications for the WFP in Yemen. “The forecast for 2021 is that 50,000 people are already living in famine like conditions, another 5 million are at severe risk of falling into famine and about 11 million people are facing crisis levels of food insecurity,” she added.

Famine occurs when malnutrition is so widespread that people are literally starving from lack of access to nutritious regular food.

WFP assists more than 12 million people in Yemen – its world’s largest operation – delivering flour, pulses, oil, sugar and salt, as well as canned goods for those who do not have immediate access to kitchen equipment such as the case of the internal displaced people.

The conflict has contributed to nearly half of all children under the age of 5 in Yemen facing acute malnutrition, which not only affects their physical and cognitive development, but puts them at risk of death. 11.2 million pregnant or breastfeeding mothers are also malnourished and according to Symington these numbers can be an underestimate.

Mothers are resorting to desperate measures to survive: either they eat less to feed their children or they must choose which of their kids eat.

After COVID, death rates skyrocketed, but as the testing capacity is limited, it is unknown for sure how many people contracted the virus. “The lockdown was lifted quite early because people will starve if they stay at home,” Symington said.

“It is clear that peace is what Yemen needs so we can address the food crisis,” she added.

Migrants in India

In India, the country with the highest number of food insecure people due to its large population (1.3 billion inhabitants), the pandemic worsened the living conditions for domestic migrants.

Almost 139 million people move from rural areas to large cities to work in informal jobs in factories or as street vendors. The coronavirus forced them to go back to their villages, and since transportation was not working, they had to move by foot, facing not only long hours of walking but hunger. The pandemic also disrupted the harvesting season in March and April affecting food supply chains.

“Although the restrictions (due to the pandemic) have been eased out and these people came back to the cities, there are very few jobs due to the economic slowdown,” said from New Delhi Parul Sachdeva, country advisor in India for Give2Asia, an NGO that supports grassroots organizations in 23 countries in Asia Pacific.

“Today 8 in 10 people are eating less food than before the pandemic and nearly 1 in 3 people face moderate or severe food insecurity.”

The government approved a package of US $22.6 billion for the distribution of staple foods during four months and cash transfers of $ 500 rupees (US $ 7) for up to three months. But informal workers were left out of the package, forcing civil society organizations to support those returning to their villages with meals, health supplies and shelter.

Organizations like Akshaya Patra distributed 1.8 million meals a day to children across India. GIve2Asia is now working on economic rehabilitation through training and input costs for agriculture.

“These are the kind of activities we wish to promote,” Sachdeva added. “I think they provide some kind of solution for livelihood regeneration in a country like ours,” she concluded.

You can donate to WFP here or via the Share the Meal app

Originally published here

Want to read this piece in Spanish? Click here

#COVID_19 #Global Famine #World Food Programme #WFP #Hunger #Famine #Yemen #India #Central America #Guatemala #El Salvador #Nicaragua #English #Give2Asia

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datingintampafails · 4 years ago

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Chapter 22: Jaden*

“Better Together” Jack Johnson

I matched with Jaden*, and based on his main picture, a professionally taken headshot, I got the feeling this guy was out of my league for sure. I matched with him one time, my opening message being about his eye color, with some adjective I cannot remember, but the 24 hour window expired before he responded. A couple days later I saw him profile again, matching for a second time, my opener this attempt was simply “hello again.” He answered with “Let’s hang out.” I ask him about his intentions and he says no clue, asking me about mine. After explaining myself, he says he is “in the EXACT same boat.”

After that, I tried to get him to fill out the dating application. He refused, despite me telling him essentially I’d be asking the same questions anyway. He said he would rather learn about each other in person, which is fair. Since this is more or less the same time as Allen*, I tell him the same thing regarding waiting to get tested before I go out and meet anyone. He says “that’s nice of you.” I suggest instead a virtual drink and he just replies that he hates these times. I agree but acknowledge that at least I’m trying and once I’m negative we can get drinks in person. He asks when I took the test and I admit that I haven’t taken it yet and am getting it the following day. “At least you’re honest” he tells me. I tell him I don’t see the point of lying, which he says is a “good trait.” I make a joke about him being a realtor and that his job is not lying but putting positive spins on things and he finds that really funny for some reason.

I request that since he wouldn’t take my dating application, if I can at least ask him the most important question. He says “Yes” then “I do not like anal.” I sent him a full line of “haha”s. “Oh wait that wasn't the question sorry haha” was what he said next. Funny. “That’s a very important answer too… I’m glad” I tell him. Then I asked the actual important question, regarding children, and at first he said “I want kids, couple, not for at least 5 years or so.” I give him a “womp womp” essentially saying, wrong answer. I explain myself and then he says “Lol that'll probably be my path. [Kids are] too pricy and I want to travel and build my career.” The question with this 180 remains, is that how he really feels or is he trying to appease me? Either way it seems one of the answers was a lie or at least less truth.

After this, I send him five messages, two related to what he said, one saying I like his vibes and want to go out once my test is back, a follow up after he doesn’t reply a day later saying “if you’d like to of course,” and then “officially no rona” two days after the previous message when I got no responses. I figured this dude was bored, but he hadn’t unmatched me yet so I figured I’d still sort of try. He finally responds to that last message with a “yesssssssssss.” He tries to make plans for that afternoon but I tell him I’m working. I ask him about Saturday night, he says he has no plans so far and I say “You do now” with a wink emoji. We plan the night, settling on me cooking dinner and having some drinks at my place. I thank him for motivation/a reason to clean my house. The reason that I chose night, is I actually have a date scheduled as well with another guy for lunch.

He asks me about weed, if I smoke, getting Peter* flashbacks here. In my blurb about my feelings on weed, I specifically tell him “I prefer not on one on one time that someone be high.” He simply says “I dont act like a little stoner but I get it” I ask follow up questions which lead me to finding out he habitually, daily, smokes marijuana. I ask him about how that works during the COVID pandemic, he says that the price has gone up but otherwise it’s the same. I then inquire about what he’s up to that night. No response.

Then it’s past midnight and officially Saturday, the day we are supposed to meet up. I ask “Sooooo gameplan?” No response. I don’t want to keep messaging and messaging, so I just see if he will come back out of the woodwork. The guy that I was supposed to have lunch with messages me around that time saying unfortunately he cannot make lunch anymore, so that’s cancelled. I don’t see the point in telling Jaden* that my afternoon has freed up or anything like that.

When the day comes, my friend invites me to the beach and I say I’ll come since my daydate was cancelled and “I’m pretty sure that I’m being stood up for my nighttime date as well so I don’t care.” As we drive up to the beach, I see that lady and her two kids from when Ethan* and I was at the beach. I’m sure it's them. I’m weak in my vulnerability so I actually break down and text him, telling him that I spotted them. I do not expect a response. My friend and I had a good time at the beach, but got rained out so our four hour trip turned into only two. It was really hot outside though so we were okay with it being cut short. Still no word at all from Jaden*.

Now when it is 6:30pm, I feel that officially I have been stood up. By this point, I'd already cooked dinner and had finished it, so even if he did magically appear I would tell him too bad. I message him to redeem myself, “Well if you actually wanna meet up let me know. I’m pretty busy so my time is valuable” I also add a stone faced emoji, because I’m sick of this shit, frankly. An hour after that, he messages me “hey!!” I for some reason don’t get the notification, and when I check my phone about 40 minutes later, I just reply “lol hi.” An hour and a half after my response, he gives me his number and asks me to text him. Here’s some screenshots.

My phone rings and it’s him. “Are you in an SUV?” I am and I jump as a figure appears to my left, it is him. The lightning storm going on has transgressed into a full on rain. We quickly hug hello as he escorts me to the door and the safety of no rain.

Once inside, I am greeted by his lab, a really nice pupper that I give lots of pats to. I’m then introduced to his friend. Jaden* offers me a drink, I let him make me a drink with some local rum. It is made way too strong, and I add some of my sparkling juice to the mixture to try and soften it up. It marginally works, but I just slowly sip on it.

Both Jaden* and his friend are outgoing and friendly, we talk about random stuff, shoot the shit. Honestly, thus far I am getting along better with the friend, not in a romantic way, but just a regular way. Jaden* is a little too talkative, occasionally interrupting, and loud. I cannot tell if he is drunk, high, or whatever, but he just seems a little off. Since I have no baseline of what he is like sober, it’s hard to tell. Jaden* brags about me, essentially saying that I was so nice and awesome and was going to make him dinner, which I make a point of adding “oh don’t worry I still made it, I just ate it myself” to be cheeky. He continues talking about miscellaneous other stuff, mostly things I cannot connect to at all, as it relates to other mutual friends the other two have.

He stops at one point and says “oh! You said I have some explaining to do so here you are” and he goes on to say that he went to watch the Barcelona soccer game with friends, and upon them winning, continued the celebration with drinking all day, he repeats a few times, “it’s not a good excuse, but it’s an honest one.” I shrug and say “I mean that’s okay.” He goes on to tell another similar story about when he was in college and skipped hockey practice, again like “it’s not a good excuse but it’s an honest one.”

Then another friend comes by, it’s a female. She is nice and seems to be long time friends with them both. They (meaning the two friends of Jaden*) are discussing plans to go to another bar or something in a little, but they end up sticking around for another hour and a half. Jaden* mentions he’s hungry (munchies??) and upon looking in his fridge, there’s nothing to eat except literally lunch meat. He eats the lunch meat, offers me some, which I decline, and actually goes back a second time to eat the rest of it after 5 minutes. He complains he’s still hungry so I say I’ll look up food options for him. He orders food (McDonald’s) and offers me to get whatever I want, I’m barely hungry so I opt for some small fries and a small frozen coke.

Jaden* has prepared some weed and puts it in a vaporizer, him and the male friend partake, both myself and the other woman decline. He now brings out a guitar and tries to play the beginning of a song, making us all guess what it is. He plays so sloppily and in combination with the guitar being out of tune, I have no clue. He repeats the set of notes like five times before revealing it’s the beginning of “that one Jack Johnson song.” Upon later googling, it was “Better Together.” He asks everyone if anyone knows anything on guitar, I sheepishly go “oh I used to play as a kid, I know like one song.” I take the guitar and play the one song I know by heart on guitar in fast succession, Beethoven’s Fur Elise. They’re all just staring at me blankly, confused that this quiet chill chick just whipped out legitimate guitar skills out of nowhere. I also continue to just strum on the guitar while everyone talks, just to have something to do. Jaden* takes the guitar back to try and tune it with some app on his phone. He complains about how the app doesn’t really work to tune it and that it is still out of tune. The guitar gets put away.

Jaden* now is complaining about how he “ordered his food an hour ago and it’s still not here;” it has been fifteen minutes. His friend believes him; “it has not been an hour” I say so as to not sympathize with him. He is again bragging about me, and talking about how nice I am and that he liked that when we were talking on Bumble. The flattery is something I’m immune to but I thank him. Next he goes into a long winded story about when he partied with Justin Bieber back when he was dating Selena Gomez, “he could have had any girl he wanted at that party” he attested, “but he didn’t and he even went upstairs to talk to her on the phone. Biebs is loyal.” Also don’t really care about Biebs so I was not impressed by this anecdote. We did randomly bond over liking old Adam Sandler movies, specifically my favorite, Little Nicky, and agreed we’d watch that tonight. Randomly his dog jumped up on the couch next to me and I noticed that the dog had a boner, which was awkward and I pushed him away so I wouldn’t get humped.

The friends finally left a little before 1 am, I told Jaden* that I wanted to get going by 2 since I had stuff to do the next day and needed to get back to my dog. He says that’s fine and then gets mad about his food still not being there after at this point long enough to bitch. Now that he’s a little closer to me, I can smell his breath and it is horrid. It smells just like butt. I assume from a mix of the smoke and alcohol he had been drinking all day.

He calls McDonald's and gets in an argument with the lady. It’s really weird and off putting. On the phone he is saying how he’s worked at restaurants and know how the system works with delivery services, and the fact that they’re “still working on it” means such and such. They claim it’s already been picked up despite the app saying it hasn’t. He says he is just going to order from somewhere else. I’m arguing with him that nowhere he orders food from is going to get there quicker at this point and to just wait. Finally the UberEats updates and it will be there in 10 minutes which calms him down. He remembers he has a cookie and goes to eat it. I do find it pro status that he microwaves the cookie for a little bit. He asks me if I want some, I say sure, but then he tries to spoon feed a piece to me. I go with it; the cookie is actually pretty good. He offers me another piece, again spoon feeding it to me. A little weirdly intimate.

We go back to the couch to finally start Little Nicky. I’ve seen this movie countless times at this point so it’s not super important that I pay attention. He briefly rubs my shoulder and it feels good, I try to convince him to give me a full shoulder rub, and offer one to him as well. He gets his, I successfully break out a knot in his shoulder. When it's presumably now my turn, I get that same shoulder rubbed for maybe one minute, then he stops. Disappointing. He attempts to kiss me quite a few times, and I unenthusiastically peck/kiss back, but again, his breath is rancid so I’m not trying to get too close to that.

The food finally arrives. There’s no straws so I tried to open the top of my coke and it accidentally splattered on the (brown) couch. I run to the kitchen to get paper towels and come back to clean it. I apologize and he says it’s ok.

He’s eating his food, and is of course to my dismay chewing with his mouth open/smacking his lips, so if it wasn’t already a no go, it now officially was. I stay with my promise to just hang a little longer though. He snarfs down his food, I eat some fries and eat my frozen coke with a spoon. He’s done eating and we go back to spooning to watch the movie. He keeps lighting kind of humping me, which is just super weird, and I ignore that it’s happening. He seems to be completely flaccid which makes it even stranger.

After maybe 15 minutes, I notice that he’s no longer really laughing at the movie or doing anything, I peer back and realize this dude is sleeping. Great. I just lay there and continue to watch the movie. Honestly, I almost drift off to sleep a few times too; it’s late and I’m bored/tired. I check my watch and it’s now 1:58am. I start to get up and say “ok it’s almost 2, I gotta get going.” He awakens and grumbles at me.

He becomes legitimately angry at me for actually following through with what I said I was gonna do. “What the hell I thought we were gonna hang?” I tell him that like I came over but told him we weren’t hooking up so that shouldn’t have been an expectation. “I see, leaving at exactly 2, wow.” I’m just gathering my things and not saying a word. He mumbles at me and I cannot make out half the words he says, but says something like “I don’t think I’m the guy you’re looking for.” I respond, “I can’t really understand you right now, but yeah that’s okay.” It is clear to me this guy is not compatible with me whatsoever.

I’m still trying to be more or less not a total bitch, so I give him a peck on the forehead goodbye. I was holding my open frozen coke, so unfortunately in leaning over I again still had a little of the drink on the sofa. Whereas last time he was calm about it, now he is pissed. “AND YOU JUST KEEP SPILLING SHIT ON MY COUCH! GET IT TOGETHER!” He is being a jerk and I am no longer standing by and being friendly, “I’m gonna fucking clean it up again chill out, damn. You don’t have to be such a fucking asshole” He repeats yelling at me about his couch, that is the same color as the beverage so besides it looking wet, it will not stain. “Whatever” I say. I double check I have all my things, as the last thing I would want to do is have to come back here to get a belonging of mine. He is staring at me as I do this like “hurry up and leave. ”As I have my things and I’m about to head out the door, he randomly becomes nice again, “alright catch you later” “probably not,” I respond as I close the door behind me.

I shake my head to myself as I leave and at least the rain has stopped. I actually even feel tears sort of welling in my eyes. I am tired of having such terrible experiences, getting slack from guys I barely even know, having to put on a smile, some make-up, and put myself out there, just to be treated like shit. I drive home without incident, I think about blocking his number, but I figure that can wait until tomorrow. I get home a little before 2:30am, greet my dog, let her sniff me since I smell like another dog at this point, before changing into my pajamas again.

Later that morning, I get a text from Jaden*:

I have no reason to continue the conversation after that. I figured I would be honest because, why not. If I can at least try and teach him a lesson for the next woman, then my suffering will not be for nothing. Another night I won’t forget, similar to Peter*, but at least he did have a clean apartment before I came along.

#dating #bumble #hinge #tinder #relationships #tampa #tampabay #stpete #south tampa #dating apps

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makeste · 5 years ago

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Top 10 Favorite Deku Moments

so it’s Deku’s birthday today!! and since he is the best boy in the world and I love him, I am going to do one of those “top ten favorite...” lists for him just like I did for Kacchan back in April. these are going to be in chronological order, and the last two will be spoilers, so I’ll label them to make sure no one gets caught unawares.

happy birthday Deku. and this post turned out to be super long, like 4000 words, so I’m sorry, but you deserve it though.

1. “Most of the top heroes show signs of greatness even as children.”

okay so before I get started, let me just warn y’all upfront that a full four out of ten of these moments will involve Bakugou. I’ve said before that the relationship between Izuku and Katsuki is full stop my favorite part of the series, and this is absolutely still true, so yeah.

that being said, what makes this particular scene one of my favorites isn’t just that it’s an important moment between them (I’ll get into that relationship more two entries down); it also just so happens that this is the crucial moment which everything else in the series can ultimately be traced back to. this is the moment that inspires All Might to hand his power down to a quirkless middle-schooler, because despite being virtually powerless, Izuku proves that he has the heart and soul of a hero. he moves without thinking, without any kind of plan. it’s extraordinarily stupid, and incredibly selfless. it doesn’t matter to him that he has no way to actually fight this villain. it doesn’t matter that less than an hour ago, Bakugou was taunting him and burning his notebook. it doesn’t matter that he could easily be hurt or killed. the only thing that matters is that someone needs help. that’s it. it’s that simple.

what makes Izuku a hero is that he is literally incapable of standing by and not taking action in moments like this. he acts on reflex to save others. his instinct in moments of danger and despair is to help, in any way he can. that’s the core of his character. and it shines through in this moment, and All Might sees it immediately, and it spurs him to take action, and from here on out everything changes.

2. “He didn’t utilize his full power. He just concentrated it into his fingertip...!”

fast-forward to the first day of superhero school, and our boy finds himself immediately in a tight spot again because his teacher is a stern and unsympathetic asshole whose way of showing consideration for his students is to mercy-expel anyone he deems not up to par. problem is, Izuku can’t actually use his new quirk without blowing himself up from the inside out, and he’s competing against what is probably the most gifted group of students U.A. has ever had. this is what is commonly referred to as “a pickle.” a jam. a quandary, if you will. if he breaks all his bones to pass the test, Aizawa will flunk him anyway. what’s a little green hero to do.

Izuku solves this problem in a typical Izuku fashion, meaning that his solution is somehow reckless, self-sacrificing, and frankly brilliant in its simplicity. rather than break all of his bones, Izuku sacrifices one (1) bone in order to launch a baseball into space, thus proving he can adapt his quirk to be useful without taking himself out and just adding to the problem. it’s worth noting that this is only his second-ever time using One for All, too. the fact that he has never had a quirk in his life up til this point and yet manages to control OFA to this degree on just his second go-around is damn impressive.

but what’s even more impressive is the way he simply outsmarts the test here. he calmly takes in the situation, thinks about the options at his disposal, and arrives at a logical solution that most people wouldn’t even have considered, because it involves intentionally breaking his own finger, which is an absurdly self-destructive thing to do just to pass a damn fitness test. but it works!! and it impresses the shit out of Aizawa too. and I just really love this moment because it’s such a perfect example of Deku both being smart and also just plain not giving a fuck and being the plussest ultra ever omfg.

3. “I can’t say much. But you should know this, at least...!”

so now we come to the second moment on this list involving Kacchan, and already there is a pattern emerging here: namely, that these moments of conflict and then reconciliation between the two of them inevitably end up being some of the most pivotal moments in the series. this particular scene comes on the heels of their battle in All Might’s first hero class, during which Deku soundly defeats Bakugou and makes it clear beyond all doubt that HE IS HERE!! and not going anywhere and Bakugou is just going to have to deal. Bakugou does a very poor job of dealing, however, and spends the rest of the afternoon super-quiet and caught up in his inferiority complex and convinced that Deku has been hiding this from him their whole childhood just to fuck with him.

most people, when put in a similar situation, would be all “fucking serves you right tbh” and just brush it right off. but Izuku doesn’t. or more accurately, I should say that he can’t. once again he acts on pure instinct when Kacchan’s welfare is involved, and this time it results in him blurting out his biggest secret -- a secret he was sworn to by All Might himself -- simply because he can’t stand to see Kacchan so miserable and he can’t bear the thought of him believing that Izuku really had been tricking him.

this is so extraordinary to me for a number of reasons. first and foremost, because Izuku’s altruism knows absolutely no bounds. he and Kacchan are on possibly the worst terms any two people could be on. he has absolutely no obligation to tell him this. but he does, anyway! just to make him feel better! second, there’s the fact that he doesn’t intend to do it, but it just comes blurting out. Izuku’s feelings toward Kacchan are complicated, as we know. and yet whatever the reason may be, Izuku demonstrates again and again that it’s a relationship he wants to hold onto, and he does his best to protect and preserve what little pieces of it he can.

and lastly, this is now the second example of what will become a well-established theme in the series of Izuku going out of his way to save Katsuki. he does this again and again. he tries to help him after he falls from the log bridge. he rushes to save him from the sludge monster. he tells him about his quirk. he nearly fails their final exam because he goes back for him after All Might knocks him out. he runs into a forest full of villains to try and save him in spite of having two broken arms. he goes to Kamino with Kirishima and the others knowing full well it could get him expelled. and he fights him at night in Ground Beta even though they get into trouble for it later, because he sees how much pain Katsuki is in and he can’t turn his back on him.

over and over again he puts himself in harm’s way for Katsuki’s sake, fully expecting no gratification to ever come from it, but doing it anyway. because he’s a hero, and because heroes don’t ask whether or not someone deserves to be saved. they just save them. this to me is the most incredible aspect of Izuku’s character. his heart is just that big. he is exceptionally, impossibly selfless and forgiving and good. and that’s just who he is. and Bakugou is lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that, whether he likes it or not, and ultimately over the course of these repeated encounters, he ends up changing for the better himself. and this moment in particular will, eventually, lead to the two of them actually reconciling for realsies when Bakugou finally figures it out and is subsequently inducted into the OFA Scooby Squad of Destiny. so yeah. this scene is so fucking important I can’t even begin. god I really went off on a tangent there. anyways.

4. “And Todoroki... isn’t you!”

so here’s another battle which highlights Izuku’s willingness to go to absurd and horrifying lengths to sacrifice himself for the sake of others. this entire fight is nothing short of ridiculous. Deku is ridiculous. let me break it down for you. Todoroki comes up to Deku before this fight and is all “hey I made a vow to never use my left side in battle because my dad only had me to use me as a tool to defeat All Might and he basically ruined my life.” in response, Deku says he’s aiming to become the strongest hero and so he’ll definitely win. he then proceeds to break his own fingers to blast Todoroki with repeated OFA attacks, all the while screaming at him that everyone is going all out and doing their best, and it’s arrogant and disrespectful of Todo to think he can beat their determination with only half of his power.

Deku has absolutely zero regard for his own well-being in this fight -- by the end of the battle his bones are in splinters -- and his teachers observe that even if he does win, he won’t be in any kind of shape to move on to the next match. basically, he throws aside all of his own ambitions and even his own sense of self-preservation (if he even has one; it’s honestly debatable at this point you guys), all for the sole purpose of helping Todoroki realize that his power is his own and not his father’s, and to break free of the revenge-tinted tunnel vision keeping him from following his own dreams. the whole thing leaves Todoroki awestruck, and even though Deku eventually loses the fight, he gains a friend for life, and Todo fans everywhere are in his debt.

real fucked up what he did to his fingers, though. but it just goes to show that nobody is perfect.

5. “I’m here to save you, Iida!”

I freaking love this moment you guys, and I can’t even explain why. except that who doesn’t love a good old-fashioned last-minute shounen save? Iida is seconds away from meeting his death at the hands of the world’s most annoyingly long-winded Ninjas Turtles cosplayer when Deku drops in out of nowhere and just socks the guy square in the jaw. it is satisfying as fuck. honestly that would have been awesome enough, but what makes it even better is that Horikoshi goes into some detail to explain that Deku didn’t just coincidentally happen to find Iida at the exact crucial moment, but actually used his Big Hero Brain to deduce Iida’s location through a series of shrewd observations and insightful hunches. and he turns out to be bang on the money, and that moment where Stain is reeling from the punch and Iida is looking up at him like, “Midoriya?!” and Deku sticks the landing in slow motion and says “Bingo!” in fucking English is just so fucking badass, guys. not to mention that this is also the debut of his Shoot Style on top of everything else. to sum up, this is one of the best entrances in the entire series, and just one of the coolest things Deku has ever done, IMO. you’re cool, Deku.

6. “You clocked me with all of your heart.”

yeah so you may at this point be sensing a pattern with some of these moments. yet again Deku does something stupid and risky because he sees Kacchan in trouble and all logic and reason immediately fly out the window. in this case it’s even more ridiculous, because Katsuki is not actually in any real danger at all, and by going back for him Izuku completely loses sight of what Katsuki got himself all beat up for in the first place. and yet he does it anyway! again! without thinking! like, he makes it maybe two steps away, and then he overhears Kacchan’s teary-eyed overdramatic and determined speech, and he immediately goes “oh fuck this I can’t do this” and turns back and grins maniacally at All Might before soundly punching the shit out of him. it is complete nonsense. there is no reason for it. Katsuki himself is furious when he finds out about it later. but does Deku care?? no, he does not care. and do I? no I do not because it’s the best and I love it.

7. “Let’s do our best, okay?”

this scene is feels city you guys. feels o’clock. zero dark feels. I almost put the “you’re next” scene here instead, but in the end this scene won out because (1) hug!! and (2) this is really the continuation of all of those emotions anyway, and it’s where the catharsis is at.

so let’s break this down since there’s a ton going on here. Deku is wrestling with the grief of knowing that All Might the hero, the Symbol of Peace, is gone forever. the pillar he and the rest of the world relied on to always be there isn’t there, any more. that sense of security is gone. and that’s a hard enough thing to come to grips with on its own, but put it together with the knowledge that he is the one who needs to step up now and fill those shoes, before he ever expected to, before he’s ready, and I can only begin to imagine how overwhelmed he must feel. and then on top of that!! All Might tells him he’s proud of him and relieved that he made it out of Kamino unharmed! and he tells him that he’s going to be there for him and that they’ll face the challenges up ahead together.

so for poor Deku, when you put that all together, we’ve got (a) that sense of loss, (b) fear and anxiety over the unknown difficulties to come, (c) various imposter syndrome feelings that he might not be good enough to handle it, (d) whatever misplaced guilt he may be dealing with for being one of the reasons All Might lost his power, however inevitable it might have been, and last but not least, (e) the deeply profound and humbling feeling of being loved and supported by the man he loves like a father, and knowing that no matter how scary things get, he won’t have to do this alone. so in spite of everything else, there’s that sense of relief and gratitude there too. he can do this. it will be okay. his dad is there.

all of that emotion, packed in one tearful hug. no wonder the kid is crying his eyes out. I would be too. in fact I did, and have no shame in doing so, and I would do it again. good job Horikoshi.

8. “This fight may very well have been a meaningless one... but...”

motherfucker did I not warn you there would be four different BakuDeku moments in this?? and that’s with me reining myself in too to be quite frank. that’s just how it is. it’s my list!!

anyway, so I’m not sure whether or not an entire fight counts as a “moment”, but I’m putting it out there anyway because I’m incapable of narrowing this down any more than that. I could have an entire separate list of Top Ten Deku VS Kacchan Part 2 Moments and I’m sure I would still wind up leaving something out. I love all of it. the whole damn thing. it’s such a huge turning point for them both. they finally sort everything out. truth bombs being hurled left and right. it’s so good. agh.

but here are some of Deku’s highlights: (1) immediately shifting from trying to talk Kacchan down to fighting him outright with no hesitation once he realizes what the fight is actually about, (2) despite knowing how Kacchan feels, allowing himself to be just a bit selfish for once and get caught up in his own rival feels and trying to prove his worth as All Might’s successor, (3) complimenting Kacchan in the middle of the fight because of course he does, (4) openly admitting how much he admired Kacchan growing up and that he thought he was amazing, (5) getting so worked up that he loses control for a moment and jumps to 8% in one of the most badass moments of the whole series, (6) acknowledging to himself that even though he really shouldn’t, he kinda digs Kacchan’s rougher “I’LL KILL YOU, ASSHOLE” side anyway and emulates it without thinking when he forgets himself and that Kacchan is his image of victory, and lastly, (7) being a sneaky bastard and throwing a punch in with his shoot style knowing full well it will catch Kacchan off guard, which it fucking does.

Deku goes hog wild in this fight. he has a grand old time and even manages to achieve a new power-up, because he and Kacchan always do manage to bring out the best in each other, when they’re not bringing out the worst. you can’t watch this fight and fail to notice how insanely fired up Deku is compared to his usual fights. he is into it. he is ready and willing to throw down. he is here to kick ass and take names!! this is the impact Kacchan has on him. thirty fucking seconds into his therapy fight and Deku's maximum power output has increased by a whopping 60%. holy shit. mad lads.

it’s something not lost on All Might, who wraps things up by patiently explaining to the two of them how much they can learn from each other. and the whole thing concludes with the two of them becoming, as All Might puts it, “proper rivals.” that’s right, their rivalry is now officially approved and sanctioned by the motherfucking Symbol of Peace. well done, boys. these two are going to be absolutely terrifying when they grow up.

***SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA PAST THIS POINT***

9. “...But you were there.”

okay so I have this indecisive kind of thing going on with whether or not I think All Might is actually going to die, and whether or not I want to see it happen. some weeks, like this particular week, I am on the side of BITCH DON’T YOU DARE because everything is goddamn sad enough as it is, Horikoshi, and I don’t need any more reasons to lie awake at night crying over fictional characters! but then there are other days when I think about how devastatingly, breathtakingly heartbreaking it would be, and for some reason I think, shit, yeah, he’s gotta do it. go ahead and hurt us good. make us feel things. leave no survivors. just fucking wreck our shit, go on ahead.

but then I read this scene again and think, there’s something so incredibly powerful about the fact that All Might started out the series believing he was going to die and being resigned to that fate and making preparations for it, only to be completely blindsided by the love he has for this boy and what that ends up doing to him. his love for Izuku gives him the strength to fight against fate. it gives him the resolve to look the grim reaper in the eye and say “to hell with this, I’m going to live.” it’s his reason to keep going. it’s his purpose. and god but that’s some powerful shit. characters saying “fuck you” to destiny? I am weak as hell for that, hell yes give me more. give me all of that.

and then Deku in this scene. pleading with All Might to keep living. “you have to live to see that moment, when I can tell the world, ‘I am here!’” promising him that no matter what happens, when the time comes, they’ll bend fate together. “without fail.” and just, holy fuck. when he says it, you really believe they can do it. because if anyone can figure out a way to conquer the inevitable, it’s this kid.

10. “Senpai... if I said that I would give you my quirk, would you...?”

last but not least, today just happens to be Mirio’s birthday as well, so it only seems fitting to end with this moment, which in the span of a single page neatly sums up why both of these kids are worthy beyond a doubt of being the next Symbol of Peace. Deku selflessly tries to offer Mirio his quirk, and Mirio instantly rejects him. doesn’t even know what’s going on, really, but just rejects the offer out of hand. “no thanks. then you would be the one subjected to this hardship.” and we can’t very well fucking have that, now can we. nope. not on Mirio’s watch. never mind that he just lost his quirk and his mentor within the span of the past twenty four hours. he wastes no time in coming to Deku’s aid in spite of that, assuring him that he did great and that everything will be just fine. so just smile already!!

but the fact that Deku was even willing to make the offer just once again goes to show how astonishingly good he is. he knows better than anyone what it’s like to be quirkless and powerless. he knows exactly what Mirio is going through. what’s more, Mirio is absolutely right that Deku did fucking amazing and totally saved the day and without him they would have all been screwed! but all Deku can see in this moment is how deserving Mirio is, and so he decides that in order to help him, he’s prepared to make what for him is the ultimate sacrifice. the power that All Might gave him. his dream of becoming the greatest hero. everything he’s worked for up to this point. he’s prepared to throw all of that away if Mirio just says the word. there truly isn’t a selfish bone in this kid’s body.

but Mirio says no. because Mirio is also selfless. in conclusion we had just better hope the two of them never wind up reaching a door together at the same time, because the ensuing battle of who holds it open for whom could singlehandedly bring this series to a dead halt. the ultimate stalemate. they are too good and we don’t deserve them.

so anyways, that’s it! happy birthday kid. and here’s one more for the road.

11. “Dear Midoriya...”

a story in three acts. character development. growth. god bless.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #all might #bakudeku #bnha meta #character rant #essay #makeste reads bnha #bakugou's birthday post was only 2800 words #I don't know if I'm getting more long-winded or if it's just that I rant about bakugou more often in general #and deku not as much #so I ended up having more to say #that could well be it #anyways this should tide me over for a nice long while now lol #deku meta #bnha top ten #bnha ranking

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nowitsdarkfic · 5 years ago

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creatura della notte // a joey imagine

Started this the other night before the power went out, and then picked up last night. Enjoy 😘😘😘

⚠️ Big fat risqué content warning ⚠️

“Then if anything grows while you pose, I'll oil you up and rub you down. And that's just one small fraction of the main attraction: You need a friendly hand and I need action!” -”Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me”, Susan Sarandon

He is the outsider of the band with his hailing from the lush backwoods of upstate, like a prince in his fitted black leather and lustrous kinky black hair. You would think he would be carrying a revolver in his high waisted stud belt, the gunslinger in search of the dark tower looming out from the dense banks of lake effect snows, but he never did brandish anything like that, at least not around you. Or so you believe. You don’t know.

The quintessential strong and silent type, his gaze steely and with the shrieking wail to accompany it, and yet you foresaw his inner silky soft nature. Something about him puts you at ease, even when he flashes a glare at the most unruly of audience members and throws his most guttural of vocals during “Armed and Dangerous”, “S.S.C./Stand or Fall”, and of course, “Raise Hell” which holds the most potent of moments wherein you find yourself curling your toes inside of your Chuck Taylors and your breath even stopping in place. You found yourself orgasming there with him, and yet you feel soft at the sight of him. Was it his big brown eyes? Was it his soft, smooth looking brown skin all over his svelte body? Or the fact he always behaved like a little boy when on stage with them?

You never could put your finger on it, especially when you had an actual moment with him in the back corridor of the concert hall. While on your way to the venue, you put in a little Steve Perry in your stereo and thus you had “Oh Sherrie” stuck in your head at that moment. You couldn’t help it: that first line slipped out from your lips once you rubbed rear ends with him in the bathroom line.You saw him out of the corner of your eye, but he already stepped away before you could continue in your inward singing. It was such an offhand moment but you wanted to hold onto it. You made a rush into the ladies’ room and then returned out when your hands were still dripping wet. He happened to be there outside of the lines, posted up on the other side of the hallway. Shaking your hands about, you wove your way through the people so as to reach him. He was exactly how you saw him in those paper magazines back home, except now he stood there, flesh and blood and without a drop of ink. “I couldn’t help but overhear you back there,” he said as part of his greeting, his fusion upstate Italian American accent smacking you right between the eyes, “that was the very first song I sang for Scott and Frankie in my audition.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s a good song, isn’t it?”

“It’s beautiful. I wish I was there to hear you sing it.”

“Well, I might be singing it tonight when we play.” He flashed you a sly grin and a twinkle in his eye. “Keep your ears astute and your body even more astutely.”

You let out a light little giggle when he spoke again.“Are you here by yourself?”

“I am, yes.”

“Meet me at the backstage door,” he advised you following a lick of his lips, “after the show. If nothing, I can give you a private show—“ His voice trailed off and you filled in the blank. He repeated it for his own sake and for yours, and without another word, he ducked out behind the curtain like a creature of the night.

*************************

Following their one hour set, and riding the rail with the mind’s eye of lightning arising from the crowd, you bustled out of the concert hall and into the chilly New York midnight. You zipped up your coat as you made your way around the corner towards the backstage entrance. Charlie stood hunched near the door with his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets, his hair tied back in a taut ponytail, and his skin milky and opaque against the floodlights on the side of the building: you found him fearless given he wore no sleeves against teenage temperatures and a falling mercury, but it made sense from his diligence that evening.

“Ah, you must be the lady of the hour,” he greeted you, the devil’s cleft in his chin growing more prominent with his impending grin. He curled his index finger back so as to beckon you into the quaint little area, small and cramped but cozy in comparison to the frigid cold outside and the thrown elbows behind you. Scott’s stringy but long hair floated back from his head as he breezed past to the tiny water closet: before closing the door, he raised his thick black eyebrows at you to acknowledge you a greeting.

Frankie and Danny were pouring themselves a drink each, and then he entered the room from the door on the far end, his belt high up on his svelte waist and his shirt hanging around his body like a curtain of lace. He had tousled his black hair back out from his face and his neck; he greeted you with an unassuming smile full of prominent star’s teeth.

“Wow, that was quick,” he remarked, “here—come sit with me.”

The two of you had a seat on the shabby looking olive green sofa next to the refreshments table. Despite the bright sheen upon his neck and his cheeks, he smelled soft and clean, like he had just climbed out of the shower and dried off with haste, in time to meet you there.

“Would you like something?” he offered. “Cup of coffee? Prosciutto? Penne? Pro pens?”

“Pro pens?” echoed Danny, cracking a smile.

“Pro penis, Daniel,” Frank corrected. “It ain’t that pro, though, you guys,” he retorted, wagging his finger at them.

“Damn, Joe, you’re actually going there with our lady here?”

“Hey, at least it’s not all the way,” he pointed out, and Charlie and Frankie burst into a fit of laughter. You felt your face grow warm as you sank down there in lumpy cushion next to him. He then returned to you, with a warm rosy glow spanning over his face and his brown eyes glimmering as if a suggestion crossed his mind.

“So... tell me. What do you have with you? What’s your story?”

“Well, I have a new flat on the fringes of the Big Apple—I moved here from Chicago. I’m a musician.”

The door of the water closet opened and Scott stepped out; meanwhile, the other four men raised their eyebrows and tilted their heads forward.

“Y-You are?” Charlie choked out.

“Yes.” You showed them a sparkling smile because you know you uncovered a sweet spot.The five of them crowded around your shins like children awaiting a story from their wise grandmother.

“Go on,” he coaxed you in a low voice as he nudged closer to you against the lumpy back cushion.

“I drum and play piano.”

Danny and Frankie, both of whom were seated at your feet cross legged, erected their spines at the sound of that.

“Care for a jam session in the future?” suggested Scott. You gave them a modest shrug but you knew you wanted it to happen. “I can sing, too. In fact, he’s one of my favorite singers ever.”

That rosy glow flushed more with modesty: he glanced over at his band mates in hopes of figuring how to respond to that.

“Me?” he stammered.“Yes.”“No wayyyy.” He blushed even more, his brown skin flowing with that lovely warmth.

“Who else do you like?” Scott asked you.

“Well, let’s see, I also like James Hetfield, Ronnie James Dio, Janis Joplin, and Robert Plant.”

“We know you like Steve Perry, too,” recalled Danny.

“Well of course.”

“How ‘bout Geddy Lee?” he added.

“Geddy Lee or bust,” you replied; and with that, he took your hand for a delicate kiss on the back. He showed you a sweet, endearing smile, but it wasn’t smarmy or riddled with the type of sleaze you might expect from boys his age. The sight of his smile added a warm soft feeling to your heart, and a peculiar tingling sensation right in between your thighs.

“By the way... that is a gorgeous color for you,” he spoke out of the blue. You peer down at the rich oxblood red top underneath your coat. You opened your coat to show them the color in its entirety.

“Ooh, hot!” Frankie declared. Scott raised his eyebrows at you, while Charlie and Danny both checked you out. But he showed you a little smirk and a raise of one eyebrow. You began to think about it: you rubbed butts, he caught you singing a song that meant the world to him, and now he had this look upon his face like he was seducing you. The red shirt became the sole thing separating you from him.

*************************

You didn’t see him again after that, and in that time, you found a decent job at a nearby bar called Snarky’s in order to help pay your rent and everything in between. You still desired to play gigs and to show him what you had with you in your repertoire. You wanted to see him again, to be in his presence, and most of all, you wanted to feel his derrière again, to give it a nice hearty caress and maybe a squeeze or two. You wanted to know if he had the best butt you had rubbed against on accident ever.

It drove you crazy, in fact, the desire to feel him in your hand, to feel him pressed against your body. You wore a red button up silk shirt for your waitress job, and once happy hour rolled around, you let one button loose to show more skin and ultimately for more generous tips, and more tips all around. You thought about him, the possibility of seeing him again and perhaps turning the tables on him. The thought of him made you feel sexy, like you could enthrall anyone.

One night was slow in particular, and you were so bored out of your wits that you took out your bun to let down your hair: you actually thought the timers in the building would shut off all the lights in there because nothing was going on. You then took a seat behind the bar and thought about what to do next.

There were things to do in the bar, and in the back in particular, and God forbid anyone caught the new girl lounging around on the job. You stood to your feet and turned around in time to catch him standing right there at the bar with his hand on the back of the chair next to you. You had your face right in his chest. He had on a soft looking leather jacket over a black sweatshirt and denim jeans: sometimes baggy clothes are the best. Meanwhile, he had tousled his black hair to where most of it sprawled over his shoulders; he raised his little black eyebrows at the sight of you.

“Oh,” he gasped. “Hello. I didn’t think I would see you here.”

You chuckled and then clutched at yourself, which in turn brought attention to your chest and your collar bones. He nibbled on his bottom lip and slipped the tip of his tongue out before he cleared his throat.

“Um, have a seat,” he stammered. You collapsed back into the seat of the chair and kept your left thigh over the edge of the seat to bring attention to your crotch. He took a seat next to you and crossed his legs underneath the bar: you took a glimpse down at his belt and the baggy crotch of his jeans. He looked cozy, not the same dark prince you had in mind at first.

“You know, I’m a waitress here,” you began, “so what would you like, babe?”

“You got any pasta?”

“I think we do. I don’t know if our cook is in yet, but I can make some for you.”

“That’d be—kinda hot, actually.” His voice in conjunction with that Italian American accent was utterly erotic to you. You nodded and ducked out from the other side of the chair before he could make out the blush on your face. You rushed into the kitchen for the pot of water and some linguine. You could hardly believe it: you were making dinner for a boy, and a sexy boy at that, too.Once the water was just shy of one hundred degrees, you felt a tap on the shoulder. You peeked over your shoulder and he padded up behind you. He taken off his jacket and slung it over his shoulder with two fingers.

“Getting eager, are we?” you teased him.

“Maybe. It’s also kinda boring out there. You know, we’re the only ones here and whatnot.” He set the coat down on the metal rack near the stove. You watched him toss his hair back from his neck and chest, and you caught a jingling noise underneath his sweatshirt. Your curiosity piqued, you stuck your hands into the back pockets of your jeans to bring attention to your hips and your curves.

“So what’s your last name?” you asked him after clearing your throat.

“Belladonna,” he answered, his voice low and soft. “It’s actually Bellardini but I go by that one instead.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” You hovered in closer to his face; eyeing his chest, you considered running your fingers along his neck and to the buttons on his collar.

“You know—I have always found Italian Americans to be the most... sensual of Americans.”

“Oh, really?” He swallowed and nearly gagged on his own oxygen.

“I think your accent is sexy.”

The tip of his tongue caressed over the edge of his teeth, and you wanted to exchange saliva with him right there. You take a fleeting glimpse down at his body, slim and lithe, and yet you could sense his toned muscles underneath that sweatshirt. A soft clean aroma emerged off of his neck and his hair. There was something so delicate and comforting about him at the same time. Even standing there, you could tell he was a lush man of many colors and layers, all of which you wanted to experience under your tongue.

“The other part of me is Iroquois,” he almost breathed those words.

“Chief Italian Stallion—“ You take one hand out of your pocket.

“What say—uh—I take you home with me to Oswego?” You know he blurted that one out. You brought your lips closer to his, but you didn’t kiss him. Instead you placed your hand on that full hip: your thumb rested on the bone and he relaxed at the feeling. He had such voluptuous hips, a gentle curve that would look too effeminate on another man, but were sensual on him. You then recall that night.

“You have quite the booty,” you whispered into his face.

“Do I now?” He licked his lips as you reached behind him and lay your hand on his lower back for a moment before sliding it down.

“You’ve got it—real thick back here—like the rest of you is nice and slim, but—“ You put extra emphasis on “but” as you pulsed your fingers. He rolled his eyes back into his head before snapping the lids shut; he nibbled on his bottom lip once again. He swallowed and accompanied it with the tilt of his head to show you his neck and his Adam’s apple.

“Should you put the linguine in or should I do it?” he choked out; for a second, you misheard that as “lingerie”, but then you hovered closer to his face right as he let out an aroused gasp through gritted teeth.

“I’ll do it. You just relax and be the little slinky stud muffin you are back out front.” You gave his butt another gentle squeeze before letting go of him. He opened his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. You returned your attention to the pot of water with the rolling boil to pour in the pasta.

One dinner was up to par, you served the pasta in a big clean dish for him, accompanied with a generous amount of sauce, a light dusting of Parmesan cheese, and a slice of garlic toast. There was a part of you that wanted to join him there at the bar but a couple of patrons entered the place and you had to care for them.

Every so often, you moseyed on over to him to make sure he was enjoying himself.

“My compliments to the cook,” he told you in a throaty voice at one point before sticking a large twirl of linguine into his mouth.

When he had finished, you sashayed over to him for his plate; and he leaned back into his chair with his hands rubbing over his slim stomach.

“That was too good for words,” he confessed, shifting his weight. You show him a warm smile, and it dawned on you that you had your hair down the whole time. He must have taken your word for it because he showed himself to you, in all his preciousness and his softness. It was that moment you realized he was perfect: you couldn’t resist him any longer.

“I think my jacket is still—mmm, ‘scuse me—in the back there.”

“I’ll—uh, get it for you, big boy,” you whispered into his face again: you followed that up with a run of your tongue around the circumference of your lips. You knew you were succeeding in this seduction, and now you needed the cherry on top.

As you returned to the kitchen to put the dish on the counter and to fetch his coat, you were positive you had him in the palm of your hand. You picked the pile of soft leather off the shelf: before you turned around, you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist. Fingers crept down the front of your trousers, onto the button. You recognized his olive skin as he unfastened the button. You turned to find him there before you with his chest heaving and his face flushed.

“Kiss me—“ you begged him.

“Only if you kiss me.”

You lay the coat back on the rack so to better lunge for him. You wrapped your arms around his delicate waist as he shoved his tongue right into your mouth. His chest heaved; his belly was soft and so warm from feeling full. You ran your fingers through his dark hair as you sensed his hands over your back: he was unhooking you.

You hoped no one would walk in on the two of you as you moved your head back to hear him breathe.

“You wanna go into the back room here, baby doll?” he whispered to you.

“Please,” you pleaded to him. He took you by the hand and led you into the small narrow nook of a back room, where you were met with a loveseat and a stack of boxes. You nudged the narrow door closed behind you, and without hesitation, he peeled off his sweatshirt. He had smooth, silky looking skin with a healthy kiss of brown, a deep strong looking chest, and a stomach as flat as an ironing board. You could feel that tingling sensation between your thighs again, and then you unfastened the buttons of your work shirt.

“Take it off,” he commanded, gesturing to your bra straps. You unhooked and let the straps fall down your arms. He lay down on the loveseat, on his back.

“My jeans are getting tight,” he confessed, “and not from the fact I made a complete pig of myself back there.”

You, however, let your pants drop down to the floor and you climbed on top of him. Your hair cascaded over his face and neck. Your chest hung right over him, and you could see your nipples tightening and hardening.

“What were you gonna do back there with the unbuttoning?” you asked him.

“Touch you. Like what I’m doing right now.”

You took a glimpse down at your waist in time to catch his fingers down your crotch.

“Spread eagle for me, baby—“

You straddled his waist so he could make a better, deeper caress into you. You gasped out at the feel of him stroking your clit—you didn’t realize his fingers were that long! You gasp and buck your hips at the feeling. You breathe heavily from the feeling, until you take a glimpse down at his waist. He’s getting hard.

“Go comatose for me, baby,” you breathed into his face.

“Gladly—“ he grunted through gritted teeth. You reached down to undo his jeans and peel back his underwear. So big and full.

“Wow—“ you gasped. “Italian Stallion.”

“Giddy up, cowgirl,” he challenged you as he continued to finger you. The tips of his fingers reached that dime sized bundle of nerves in your coochie and then you were ready. You moved your hips forward for a seat on his erection. You ground your hips around like you were churning butter.He gasped and groaned at the feeling. Every gyration of your hips led your closer and closer to the cowgirl he said you were.

“MOTHERFUCKING YEEHAW!” he shouted. You hushed him with a finger over his lips.

“What would the neighbors and patrons think?” you demanded.

“Let them—“ he growled. “Let them see us!” He threw his head back against the pillow of the loveseat.

“Oh God—oh fucking hell—“ He opened his eyes and parted his lips: his face was riddled with lust for you.

“Say my name,” he said in a husky voice.

“Huh?”

“Say my name!”

“Joey!”

“Louder!”

“Joey!”

“Louder, dammit!”

“OH JOEY!”

“YES!”

He gripped onto your hips and yanked you down onto the cushions. He lifted himself up over you, and straddled over your hips. His hair flooded over his shoulders, while his cheekbones filled out with the accompanying warm blush. His lips puckered up at the sight of your face.

“You’re cowgirl, I’ll be Indian,” he told you in a broken voice. You could sense it between you, especially with his hands on your hips like he was going to turn you over onto your face.

“Want me to roll over?”

“God, yes.”

He lifted up for you to roll onto your stomach: you protected your chest from the rough fabric of the loveseat with the backs of your hands. You felt his hands gently holding onto your hips. You spread eagle for him.He thrusted forward right into your clit. You gasped at the feeling, but on the second time you gave him a soft moan from the back of your throat. He thrusted again, and again; the smacking sound filled your ears. Every so often he let out a groan, but once your moans led to a loud squeal he gave away every inch of feeling within him to relish in every inch of you: he surrendered to the feeling.

“Hey—hey—okay—okay—!”

Another thrust, and that time it was the hardest.

“FUCK!” you shouted, and you felt yourself coming.He shrieked, a high piercing shriek with a vibrato as if he was singing.

“Okay—!” he choked out; he let go of your hips and yanked out. You fell onto your hands for a moment: you felt him climb off the loveseat and then he padded out of the back room for something. When he returned, you rolled onto your back. Your breasts poked out for him as he lunged towards you with his jacket in hand, but he slid in between you and the back of the loveseat. He cloaked you with his jacket and put his arm around your body: you know he did it to feel you and hold you close.

“That was—everything I wanted and then some,” you told him in a broken voice. “Shouldn’t we have a blanket other than your jacket?”

“Keep it, sweet cheeks,” he whispered to you, following it up with a low whistle. “God, you did that like a fucking pro.”

“That’s what I get for finding your dick so delicious,” you croaked out.

“What say—uh, you and I call it a night here and mosey back to New York in the morning,” he suggested, putting his arm around you.

“Sounds like a plan. It is closing time after all.”

He nestled closer to you with his fingers on your hip: he still felt full and soft as he pressed himself closer to you. Your eyelids grew heavy right then as the timers shut off all the lights for the night. Your hope was that he would continue to hold you when you awoke in the morning.

#joey belladonna #anthrax #one shot #imagine #smut #lemon #fanfic #heavy metal fanfiction

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ace-oreos · 6 years ago

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Alpha-17 Umbara AU

Not a fix-it or anything, because really, there’s just too much to fix on Umbara. This is more my bitterness over Alpha being written out of The Clone Wars and my take on how he would’ve reacted to Krell. Also, I’m horrible at titles, so I’m sticking with what I have for now.

Of all the planets Alpha had been stuck on for an indefinite period of time, Umbara was close to becoming the worst, surpassing even Jabiim.

Technically, he wasn’t attached to the Five-oh-first. As an ARC trooper, he fell under the jurisdiction of General Arligan Zey and the Special Operations Brigade. Alpha had only agreed to this mission because... well, pretty much because Obi-Wan Kenobi had asked for him specifically. The Knight had claimed it was because Torrent Company would need all the support they could get, but Alpha suspected he was worried about his former Padawan as well, meaning Alpha was now stranded on Umbara under the command of a general he despised.

He didn’t know why Skywalker had been recalled to Coruscant. They’d claimed it was an emergency, but at this point in the war, everything was an emergency. It was all too neat for Alpha’s liking: Skywalker removed from the battlefield and replaced by a trigger-happy, casualty-deaf Jedi general who was loathed by the entirety of Torrent Company. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do much more than follow whatever orders he was given and watch as Torrent’s ranking officer fought a losing battle with his new general.

Of course, just because Captain Rex saw it best to carry out Krell’s orders to placate the old lunatic didn’t mean Alpha shared the view. Oh, Alpha had done his job to the expected standard. He just hadn’t done it quietly. It was driving Krell up a wall, and Alpha felt no remorse. Outright sabotage would lead to punishment for sure, but Krell couldn’t have him reconditioned for his covert rebellion.

If anything, the general would kill Alpha himself and be done with it.

Alpha shook his head to stay awake. He’d been on watch for three hours, and nothing remotely unusual had occurred. Given the Umbarans’ aggressive campaign thus far, the lack of hostile activity made him uneasy. Maybe ARCs were supposed to be all deception and stealth - and he could be if the need arose - but he found things simpler when the enemy was in plain sight. Plus, the Umbarans’ familiarity with the landscape was a significant advantage; they hadn’t wasted a single opportunity to use it against the Five-oh-first.

The constant darkness only added to his misgivings. The shadows had eyes and ears. Although Alpha had no love for the enemy, he had to respect their tactics. We don’t know where they could come from, what areas are best for an ambush, and we can’t safely follow them if they retreat, he thought. The Umbarans had done their job well.

He was drawn from his thoughts abruptly. Something was definitely watching him. Just as he shifted his weight casually, preparing to fend off attackers, another figure in white armor appeared out of the gloom. Before Alpha could warn him of nearby hostiles, the trooper said, “General Krell would like to see you, sir. He’s in the command center.”

Alpha hesitated before answering, trying to detect any enemy presences. His helmet sensors gave no indication of additional life-forms. Sighing, he said, “I’ll see him when I have a replacement. I’m not listened to him complain about proper security again.”

“I’m supposed to relieve you, sir,” the other answered. He sounded young; Alpha wondered if this was Tup, the rookie the other ARC had befriended. He wanted to ask - oh, that would infuriate Krell, making him wait - but the kid continued, “Um, he said as soon as possible, and... and that he doesn’t want any excuses.”

“Right,” Alpha muttered grimly. “Thanks, kid.”

***

The atmosphere in the forward operating base was taut from the moment Alpha strode in. He removed his helmet, noting the tense air, and approached the general. The Besalisk was studying a holographic map of the Umbaran base, one of his four hands resting on his lightsaber. Steeling himself for conversation, Alpha said, “You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Alpha-Seventeen,” Krell said without looking away from his map, “why have we not attacked the enemy’s base directly?”

“I don’t have the authority to do that, sir,” Alpha ground out.

“You are a captain, are you not? You have seniority over CT-7567. Take command of this company and do what the rest are too cowardly to attempt.”

Alpha began forming a biting retort - starting with the use of names rather than numbers - but Krell’s voice washed over him, drowning out his response. The general was right. He was an Alpha ARC, the first generation of commandos trained by Jango Fett himself. If they crushed the Umbarans at their source, they would win. Rex was a fool if he couldn’t --

Alpha bit down hard on his lip, and the thoughts faded. He glared at Krell, who seemed oddly satisfied by something. Mind trick, Alpha fumed. He’d never felt the push of the Force like that, but he was certain that it had been Krell’s influence. It took all of his self-control not to lunge at the Jedi and introduce him to the unfriendly side of his combat knife.

“Problem, Captain?” Krell asked. Alpha was hyper-aware of his surroundings, the way Krell’s hand was slowly tightening around the hilt of his lightsaber...

“How many?” Alpha growled. He realized his hands were shaking with anger, and quickly clenched them. “How many of them are you controlled, you two-faced hut’uun -- ”

He was cut off by the wailing of an alarm. Before he could pinpoint the source, an explosion rocked the base. Then another. Air strike. Shabla air strike.

Alpha snapped his helmet on, promising himself he would confront Krell as soon as the next opportunity presented itself. Then he stormed out of the command center to confront their attackers.

The base was in chaos as Torrent Company tried to assemble themselves while blaster fire rained down around them. Alpha found Krell immediately. He was in the thick of the fray, lightsabers whirling, bellowing orders at the scrambling troops. For a moment, he looked like any other Jedi fighting alongside his men.

Alpha knew better.

Maybe he was just more callous than the other Jedi, Alpha mused as his body reverted to autopilot. He eliminated Umbaran soldiers with cold efficiency while his mind raced, trying to make everything fall into place. Maybe Alpha had become too accustomed to General Kenobi’s hearts-and-minds approach.

Or maybe Krell was a traitor.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he was overwhelmed by the feeling of immediate danger. Blue light flared across his vision, and for a wild second he thought of Kenobi or Skywalker.

Then the pain registered, and he fell. The din of battle was oddly muted. Just as his brothers’ white armor started to blur, Krell loomed out of the darkness. Alpha raised his hands to defend himself - his blaster had been knocked out of his hand when he collapsed - but Krell wasn’t attacking him. The Besalisk was slicing through the ranks of Umbarans, still roaring orders.

I hate you, Alpha thought. Despite his weakening grasp on consciousness, anger flashed through him with perfect clarity.

Krell faltered, looked down at him. Through the pressing shadows, his eyes seemed to glow a sickly yellow-gold.

Then the darkness overtook Alpha, and the battle disappeared.

***

The Five-oh-first’s medic was calm, levelheaded, and skilled - everything a combat medic should be - but he was also adamant that Alpha would not be participating in the next battle. “You’re lucky the general was there,” he said, sounding as though he didn’t quite believe the words. “He saved your life.”

So he was indebted to Krell. Wonderful.

When Alpha tried to stand to look around the medbay, Kix had finally lost his patience. “It’s bad enough that Jesse and Fives are going to be executed!” he snapped. “We can’t lose two ARCs!”

The word execution and a wave of nausea forced Alpha to sit down hard. Death in battle was one thing. It was the honorable thing, the end any trooper knew he would meet someday. But execution? Two men shot by their own brothers, and for what?

For disobeying orders. For breaking the oath they’d all taken from their very first breath: obey the Jedi.

Alpha wanted to rebel. To see Krell executed, not two brothers. It wasn’t right. He didn’t know much about justice, but he was sure this was not it. Alpha closed his eyes, seething. He was powerless. Completely, utterly powerless in the face of Krell’s tyranny.

A despair unlike anything he’d ever known came over him. Clones never had any say in their own lives. They couldn’t choose where they went or who they fought, and they certainly couldn’t choose their deaths. The fury and resentment coursed through him as he lay in the medbay, surrounded by wounded and dying brothers. Somewhere nearby, two more were facing death for insubordination. Two more numbers in the ranks of the dead. They were all just numbers in the end; what did it matter how they died?

The anger didn’t leave until a brother burst into the medbay, gasping that they were under attack by the Umbarans once more. Clutching his side as he wheezed for breath, the kid burst out, “The general said the enemy - the enemy is wearing our armor.”

A blast of rage drove Alpha to his feet. He ignored the protests of the men around him as he grabbed his blaster and snapped his armor into place. The enemy was wearing their armor, and wielding their weapons.

The enemy was wearing robes and carrying a lightsaber, too.

#star wars the clone wars #alpha 17 #pong krell #ct-7567 #my fanfic #au #I kind of took a lot of liberty with the Force thing

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bluegrassbubblessoapandsund-blog · 5 years ago

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I’m a LOUSY Blogger!

But Let’s Get To Improving That!

Well, obviously, I forgot for a while that I even had a Blog! Shame on Me! That being said, let’s start by Re-Introducing who I am, what I do and what we’re all doing here in the first place!

I am Melisa. I’m 51 years of age and I have been married to my high school sweetie since 1988 and his name is David. We’ve been together for 33 years in 2020. David and I share three beautiful grown daughters, Brittany, Kymberly and Krystina. We have six grandchildren: Jessica is 11, Rebecca is 10, Katherine is 7, Joshua is 7, Annalyna is almost 3 and our newest is Zanora, born October 18th of this year. We also have four “Fur-Babies”. A Chihuahua/Pomeranian mix named Peanut (She’s almost 9 years old), a Papillon named Popcorn (She’s almost 5 I think!), her full blooded sister Caramel (If Popcorn is 5, Caramel is 4!) and our most recent addition is Bella (she’s about 5 too, I think) Bella was my Mom’s baby. My Mom passed away a few months after she got Bella. At the time of my Mom’s passing, we didn’t want to give Bella away, and Krystina adopted her and loves her to death. However, with the recent new addition of Zanora to the household and Annalyna being a normal 2 year old, Bella inevitably “nipped” at Annalyna. So, we took Bella….for now. Who knows, she might go back to Krystina’s house, only time will tell.

What do I do? Well, I’m actually a trained Medical Assistant and Phlebotomist. I worked for a handful of doctor’s in my native state of California after graduating from school. One of my favorites was working at an Urgent Care facility where I got to see all kinds of illness and injury. But the job I enjoyed the most, was working for the Chief FAA Medical Examiner of Los Angeles County. I was in charge of the lab, ran all kinds of tests, took X-Rays as well as a myriad of other things. I loved the patient interaction and helping people get and maintain the ability to fly, through their Federally Mandated Physicals. However, David works in the Aircraft Industry, which at times, can have a high turn over rate, so you go where the jobs are (The main reason we’ve lived in 6 states throughout our marriage!) and we ended up moving to the state of Arizona from our home state of California. After graduating school and working in my field in those offices, I eventually found work with the local school district my daughter attended as a substitute Health Office Technician. After a couple more moves, and a couple health issues on my part, as well as the death of my Dad from throat cancer, we moved back to California to be closer to my Mom and Sister, Annette. Because of my love of cooking, during this time in California, I also attended Culinary Arts School. However, my husband David was working in the aircraft industry and after 9/11 happened, unfortunately the jobs in that industry dried up and he had to find “side hustles” to make ends meet as he looked for other employment within the industry. Then one day, one of the job applications he put in, panned out! The Federal Aviation Administration called and offered a job, and he took it, which facilitated our move to the state of Kentucky where we had lived before when David was serving in the U.S. Army during Operation Desert Shield/Storm. We had always said we loved Kentucky and had talked about retiring there, so THAT worked out well!

After moving to Kentucky, our two youngest daughters finished high school and our oldest daughter’s then husband, had joined the military and she came to live with us while he was doing some training. She brought with her our Granddaughter Jessi and her pregnant tummy! As my birthday approached, so did her due date, and on my Birthday (November 19), I took her to the doctor and they announced she was going to have a baby that day! So, Rebecca (Nicknamed Reba!) was my Birthday Present that year!

During Brittany’s stay I ultimately had my first back surgery where I had a titanium cage installed and a fusion done. At this point, I was no longer physically able to stand for 8 to 10 hours a day meeting the physical demands of the job I enjoyed. So, I threw myself into my hobbies of counted cross-stitch, crocheting, reading, cooking and scrapbooking.

After living in the suburbs of Louisville for a couple years, we bought a house 30 miles away in the little town of Shelbyville. By this time, Kymberly had moved back to California after graduating high school, and Krystina had just graduated. Brittany had moved back with her then husband, out of state again. (😥)

Krystina moved out eventually and it was just David and I our dogs Rotunda (another Chihuahua/Pomeranian mix who was 12 years old), and our puppy, Peanut. Kids and grandkids grew, families grew and, as most “empty nesters” David and I began to enjoy our time together as “just us”.

Then, at a family get together (I actually don’t remember the date. One of those “health issues” I experienced was a mini stroke when I was 30 years old caused by birth control pills and my morbid obesity at the time, they concluded. Thus, the stroke obliterated my able to remember things as well as it use to!) I noticed that Reba was having, what I thought at the time was, dry skin issues. I began to take notice and pay attention to the things with other family members and their skin. ( I guess that was Medical Assistant in me!) I was trying to figure out what was causing the problem for her because she complained that the patches itched and sometimes hurt. Around the same time, David had to have major surgery. He was diagnosed with an Acoustic Neuroma. It had attached itself to the working parts of his ear, his facial nerves and his brain stem. Ultimately, they removed all but a very tiny piece of the Neuroma as well as all of the workings of his ear, so he became completely deaf in that ear, and had a second surgery to install a Cochlear Implant. As he was healing from that, he neglected to shave and I noticed that he, too, was getting these dry, flaky, itchy patches where his mustache would grow. And the research began in earnest!

Because I am a redhead (As is Kym, Reba, Annalyna and we haven’t figured out if Zanora is or not!), I have struggled with sensitive skin issues since I was a kid. I never got a “tan”, I got “pink”, “lobster red” or obtained more freckles. As I got/get older, I develop(ed) more and more sensitivities to things like laundry detergent and shampoos/conditioners. So, using my own experiences the first thing I looked at was laundry detergents. From there I looked at the shampoo/conditioner, and from there it lead me to the “soap” we used in the shower/tub.

The information I was gathering was quite interesting and little shocking, to say the least. Since I was a kid, I remember seeing commercials on TV about how actual “soap” was bad for the skin, that using XYZ Brand of this or that was more “moisturizing” and better for your skin. These commercials through my youth, told me that using “soap” was drying, contributed to wrinkles as you age, leaves a “film” on your skin, makes your tub/shower have excessive “soap scum”, etc., but as I was researching, what I found astonished me. Especially since the TV told me how bad actual SOAP was!

My first thought after going down this rabbit hole of research was, “Wow, maybe I need to change the stuff we’re washing with”. Why? Well, I learned that what I was using at the time, a liquid body wash distributed by a company who’s named after a small white bird (😉) could not legally be called “soap” even though that’s what we all call it. The process used to make this body wash literally removes the glycerin (something called a “surfactant” that does actually help to moisturize to an extent, but is defined as a compound that lowers the surface tension between two liquids, between a gas and a liquid, or between a liquid and a solid. Surfactants may act as detergents, wetting agents, emulsifiers, foaming agents, and dispersants.), only to add it back in, and the additional additives they actually added to make it “better” for your skin, as was their “claim”, were actually not necessary and were detergents as well.

“DETERGENTS?!”, I thought to myself….”like, I’m actually washing my body with laundry detergent?” Um… yeah-you are (🤨)! So, I grabbed my bottle of body wash and started to actually read what I was putting on the biggest organ my body has. The organ that absorbs everything from environmental pollutants, to what you put on it, to what you ingest. (Medical training kicking in here again.)

The ingredient list was LONG, containing words I couldn’t even pronounce. (Can you?) Then I thought to look at the “soap” and “body wash” that Reba was using, and read the same ingredients; detergents, etc. The only difference was they added extra stuff to balance the pH to the eyes (making it “tear free”), rather than the body. What does the pH actually do? Let’s look at that…

pH stands for potential hydrogen with the “p” meaning potential and the “H” standing for hydrogen. The pH scale is a scale that is used to rank the relative basicity or acidity of substances to other substances, based on the amount of hydrogen ion activity in a substance. (sciencetrends.com)

Now, I could go into and define and describe all the ingredients I’m talking about, but that would be a science lesson in and of itself. Suffice to say, I didn’t like what I read and learned and thought there had to be something better that would help the dry, itchy skin my loved ones were experiencing. So, I looked into actual “soap”. As I was reading about soap I came upon the different FDA laws regarding the making of “soap” both in solid and liquid forms that we were all using. The FDA has a law that states that the items used to actually wash your body, that you buy at places like the grocery store, or big box stores, cannot legally be called a “soap”. Because of the additives and processes used to create what we were using, the law states that they have to be called something else. So, corporate America gave these items names like “Facial Cleansing Bar”, “Moisturizing Body Wash”, etc. Wait! What? You’re telling me that almost 99% of the stuff at the store I buy my family to wash with on a daily basis couldn’t legally be called soap because they’re “detergents” and corporate America is conning the populous at large? That would be a hard yes. Well, then… (Go look at the wrapper or container your current stuff comes in the from the store and see what it’s called… I’ll wait.)

What did washing with detergents do to the skin? It makes it dry, flaky, itchy and it can exacerbate skin issues that may be underlying such as eczema, psoriasis, allergic dermatitis, the weather, etc. Well darn! How do you fix THAT issue? Back to actual “soap”…

I started to google “soap” and all the sudden a new world opened up to me. I found all kinds of places that were selling the ingredients to make your own soap at home, videos that showed you from start to finish. The different ways to make it. The different ingredients and their benefits… the lists went on and on. I actually got quite overwhelmed. So, I just started making notes, and doing more research and watching more videos. I learned that you can’t make actual SOAP without Sodium Hydroxide (Lye). Even the “Body Washes” and “Beauty Bars” have Sodium Hydroxide in them. (Or it’s sibling Potassium Hydroxide, which is used to make a liquid “soap” or “wash”.) HOWEVER…..

While watching and reading about making SOAP, there were CONSTANT warnings about Lye Safety and how dangerous it is to work with Lye. The kinds of safety equipment that would be necessary to work with it, and honestly, I got intimidated and scared. But then I saw something called “Melt and Pour”. This is a Glycerin based soap that is already “made”, having gone through the processes necessary to make it SOAP. All you had to do, was melt it in a microwave, color it, add any fragrance or essential oils to it, and pour it in a mold. You simply let that cool and harden and BOOM, a handmade bar of soap that you’ve made at home.

It was a fun learning experience for sure. To this day, I still make some of the Melt and Pour soaps and add them to my other soaps and I let the grandkids work with it to make their own for gifts for family members. But I really wanted to be able to use those fantastic oils and butters that really benefit the skin! So, I took my Culinary Arts training, and bit the bullet. Because you’re following a recipe and a technique, it was quite similar to actual cooking! I watched a thousand more videos, including the ones about Lye Safety, over and over and over again, just to be sure I KNEW what I was doing and felt comfortable enough to work with it. In the Culinary world we have something called “Mise en Place”, which basically means “everything in it’s place”. You should get everything out that you plan to use, weigh, measure, the tools, etc. Everything should be ready before you start. So, I did that. Then, I set to work making my first bars of soap made with Sodium Hydroxide, in a design called a “Tiger Stripe”. I honestly can’t tell you what the scent was, or the colors that I used. But I remember it was fun! I was so very proud, looking at that wet soap in the mold… Now for the Saponification Process.

What is the Saponification Process? Saponification is a process by which triglycerides (fats) are reacted with sodium or potassium hydroxide (lye) to produce glycerol (emollient) and a fatty acid salt, called “soap.” The triglycerides are most often animal fats or vegetable oils. When sodium hydroxide is used, a hard soap is produced. (thoughtco.com) This process renders the Sodium Hydroxide (or Potassium Hydroxide) completely inert. It’s done it’s job of turning the oils, butters and water into a bar of soap. So, the Sodium/Potassium Hydroxide will in no way negatively affect your skin at all, whereas when soap hundreds of years ago was made, it was hard on the skin. In fact, my Grandma’s generation still viewed “lye soap” as something quite harsh. Basically because the lye that was used was made from wood ashes, wasn’t as pure and the science that we use today (computer programs that help to determine the proper amount of Lye, water, oils and butters that will make the best bar of soap, with proper hardness, moisturizing properties, cleansing abilities, bubbles and no harsh or adverse effects from the lye.) hadn’t been invented yet. They also didn’t have any of the additives that we use today like colloidal oatmeal, milk powders, etc.

So, 24 hours after I made that first loaf of soap, I cut it. It was the best bar of soap I’d ever seen! I cut it with a knife I bought specifically for soap. I cut it unevenly, and I didn’t care. Then I had to figure out where to let it “cure”. Curing is where you set the newly made soap aside for 4 to 6 weeks and allow all the excess water left in the soap, after the saponification process, to evaporate, leaving the bar as hard and as long lasting as possible. I found the perfect place, in my foyer. Then I immediately wanted to make more…and more… Pretty soon, my foyer was filled with newly made, curing soap! Anyone that came to the front door, or entered the house, always asked what smelled so good!

I tested the soap 5 weeks later, as did David, in the shower. It was bubbly and it was a different feeling on my skin than what I was use to, in a good way. I felt… cleaner? Was that the word I’d use? Yes, it was! I felt like there was just clean skin there, not something else. I don’t quite know how to explain it, other than I didn’t feel like I had a thin film of “slime” on my skin that the aforementioned body wash I had been using, left on me that was meant to make my mind think this was a “conditioning, moisturization” of my skin. It was “slime” to me, now that I had used my brand new bar of soap! Well, now I was hooked! David’s skin, after about a week, showed improvement as well! Holy Heck, what did I just find!?

For the next solid year, I played with different recipes, different oils and butters, different molds, different colors, different additives…. I found a recipe I seriously loved. I shared the bars with family and friends and finally was told so many times..”This stuff is great! You should sell it because I’d buy it”. So, I did. And Bluegrass Bubbles was born… We got a business license and became official, then started our website, bluegrassbubbles.com

In the next installment of the blog, I’ll continue some of the story! Please remember to share and invite your friends to the blog! Feel free to ask questions and interact!

If you’ve not already, please follow us on all our social media and visit our website and sign up for our newsletter! I share behind the scenes pictures, videos and every now then, a Giveaway where you can win Free Products, including the Candles and other things I make!

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slyreaderslibrary · 5 years ago

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Ch. 7 Associates

AO3: Here

Fanfiction: Here

Summary: Keeping a secret identity secret is normally hard enough but when you’re as beautiful as Minako Aino you’re bound to have all kinds of creeps and weirdo stalking your every move. Now there’s a cop hot on her trail and she’ll have to be quick on her feet if she’s to keep her identity on the DL. Just what is a gorgeous super-heroine to do?

Keisuke arrived in the Azabu-juban district at nine twenty five in the morning with a cramp in his back and an irritable mood weighing him down. He'd only gotten a few hours of sleep the night before after a late night alert went out, calling all hands available to a nearby murder investigation. Luckily Usui had arrived on the scene first, thus making him lead of the investigation and granting Keisuke leeway to return home and try to salvage what sleep he could before his meeting with Ueda later that morning.

He slipped into a nearby cafe to grab a bagel and some coffee and then headed to the nearby bank to withdraw some cash. He was running low on his bribe money and he wanted to restock before seeing Ueda. Not that he thought it would be necessary...it was just better to err on the safe side.

Finishing the last of his bagel, he walked up to a wooden kiosk, grabbed a withdrawal slip and began filling out the form when he noticed a flash of gold in his peripheral. It was Aino entering the establishment, blond hair and sandaled wedges moving confidently across the linoleum floor while carrying a large, navy deposit bag. He dropped his pen in his surprise and cursed when he banged his head on the kiosk when he bent to pick it up.

It seemed today just wouldn't be his day.

"Everybody listen up! This here's a robbery!"

Keisuke—still crouched from his efforts to retrieve the pen— slowly closed his eyes and sighed. Of course the bank was being robbed.

After allowing himself that small display of frustration, he adjusted his crouch to kneel and peeked around the kiosk to better assess the situation. There were five masked men that he could see: two confronting the tellers, two pointing what looked to be AR-15s at roughly a dozen civilians and one blocking the exit. He imagined there was at least one getaway driver nearby but then also figured they could have planned to use the civilians as a bargaining tool. Either way he was outnumbered and outgunned.

He shot off a quick text with these observations, as well as the bank's address, to his superior and moved a few inches back to scrutinize his surroundings and attempt to form a plan.

"Alright, everybody put your hands out in front of ya and drop your valuables and cash in the bag as my friend here passes by and no one will get hurt."

From his position, Keisuke could see the robbers' reflection off the glass office walls and took the moment they were distracted to slip around to the side of the bank's main front counter. His new vantage point allowed him to directly see the thug collecting the civilians valuables with quick efficiency.

Then he stopped in front of Aino.

"Give me the bag blondie. I won't ask twice."

Aino clutched the deposit bag tighter to her chest.

"Did you know that twenty percent of all startups fail within the first year?" she rattled off randomly. Keisuke would have assumed she was nervous if he hadn't seen her take down that rapist the day before.

It seemed to stall the robber however, who stared at her and then looked to his partner who motioned for him to hurry up.

"Alright, er…" The robber frowned and lifted his bag. "That's interesting, miss. Now give me the money!"

Aino appeared not to have heard him though, instead continuing her previous line of conversation with added hand gestures to emphasize her point. "And did you know that that number is tripled when that startup is a new and unknown restaurant? That's a sixty percent failure rate! It's a travesty!" Her hand flew out knocking the bag of stolen goods from the robber's hand to the floor. "Oops! Sorry about that, I'm always knocking over or tripping over something it seems."

The robber hastily snatched up the bag but he'd drawn the attention from his friends, including the ones who'd been harrassing the tellers.

"What are you doing Taka? Take her money already," ordered one of the robbers closest to Keisuke.

Taka reached for the deposit bag but Aino stepped back, managing to avoid him.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that. You wouldn't want my friend to become just another failed statistic now would you?"

"Lady I don't care what happens to your friend. Just give me the money!"

Aino sidestepped Taka again, earning Taka several jibes from the other robbers. The two crooks harassing the tellers joined the ones harassing the customers and formed a semicircle around Aino. Keisuke used their distraction to slowly rise to a standing position.

"We don't have time for this," the quasi-leader of the group complained. He grabbed Aino's arm and yanked the bag from her fingers before shoving her to the floor and causing her to cry out. Keisuke's hands clenched into fists as he inched closer.

"Hey doesn't she look like that model on all the billboards lately?" asked another.

"She is! We could make a fortune off her!" replied the fourth man, "Imagine what the magazines would pay for her nudes!"

Keisuke tapped the excited robber's shoulder, prompting him to turn around, and then slugged him in the face. The robber's gun flew out of his hands and skidded across the floor while Taka seemingly lost his feet and fell to the ground next to him. Keisuke chalked it up to Aino but didn't waste time to check having already turned to block a bat spiked with nails flying at his head. He managed to catch the bat just beyond the spikes and swung his body towards his assailant's arms before sending an elbow to the other man's face while simultaneously wrenching the weapon free. He then turned to the leader, who was already on the floor with Aino's wedge sandal squishing his face into the linoleum.

Keisuke relaxed his stance, "nice wo—"

"NOBODY MOVE!"

Shit. He had forgotten about the one at the door.

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS! I SAID DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"

Keisuke slowly lowered his weapon to the floor and then stood back up, hands raised high as he turned to face the last robber. Aino likewise had turned around but her hands remained low by her side. The robber guard pointed his weapon at a middle age woman but never took his eyes off them.

"Drop your weapons or this bitch here gets it!"

What on earth was he talking about? Hadn't they done just that? Keisuke frowned and tried to discreetly check Aino's hands in the glass reflections but couldn't see anything past all her blonde hair.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Keisuke snapped his gaze back to the robber in time to see the gun, surrounded by a golden glow, bend and twist unnaturally until the barrel pointed at its wielder. The robber screamed and hurled the weapon away from him, an action which could be clearly seen beyond the bank's doors because the reinforcements he had called in had finally arrived and wasted no time bursting through the door and tackling the lone robber while the others corralled around the four still unconscious on the floor.

A man—who was clearly in charge given the way the officers responded to him—walked through the doors and Keisuke recognized him as the Commissioner General's second-in-command, a hardworking officer who'd been dedicated to his job for fifteen years named Toshio Wakagi. Wakagi looked around, studying the mess, and then walked up to Keisuke and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Good work, Detective Koizumi correct? I recognize you from the picture you have on file. Your name has been coming up quite a bit back at HQ. You do good work, although..." Wakagi glanced at the men being hauled away. " In this situation, I'd normally write you up for poor judgement. Five against one is too risky but seeing how things worked out I'm going to let it slide."

Keisuke shook his head in denial, "I didn't do it on my own." He pointed towards Aino. "She helped."

Wakagi glanced in Aino's direction and immediately scowled before attempting to regain his composure. However he wasn't quite successful because his face was still twisted in a grimace when he turned back to Keisuke. "Either way Commissioner General Sakurada is going to want to play this up for publicity. Our recruitment numbers have been down and this is just the sort of thing to motivate the faithful citizens of Japan to sign up. Besides, Aino-san's not going to want the attention. Her fans might not like someone capable of violence."

"It was self-defense," Keisuke argued, suspicious of how Wakagi knew Aino but not about to let him besmirch her actions either. A lot of people could have been hurt if not for her. "Besides, even if she agrees, what happens when the press get the video feed? They'll have a field day if they think the police are hiding something."

Wakagi sighed and Keisuke got the impression the other man knew something he didn't.

"I don't think that'll be a problem but just so you're satisfied I didn't tamper with the feed, go ahead and get a copy for yourself first. I'll go and talk to Aino-san." Wakagi gave a short nod goodbye and then walked away to talk with the woman in question while Keisuke was left to wonder exactly how the two knew each other.

He watched Aino light up when she noticed Wakagi and smile a mile wide before elbowing him in the arm and smirking mischievously. The sight left him feeling uneasy and suspicious. If she knew the second-in-command to the Commissioner General, who else was she connected to? Was this why Goto had wanted him to back off? And what had made that weapon twist and glow like that?

Keisuke decided he needed answers, now, more than ever. He pulled out the spare flashdrive he kept in the hidden inner pocket of his leather jacket and headed to the desk where some officers were pulling up security footage. He flashed his badge.

"I'd like to get a copy of that if you don't mind."

oOo

"You know, anyone just arriving on the scene would think you were robbing the bank, carrying a bag of your money around like that," Wakagi told her. Minako recognized the tone. It was the same tone Artemis used when he was preparing for a lecture.

"It's not my money!"

Wakagi looked alarmed and then furious as he demanded she keep her voice down. "What if someone heard you?"

"Relaaaaax," Minako giggled, playfully slapping his arm. "It's my friend's. She's been short staffed all week and didn't have a chance to deposit her earnings last night, so I offered to do so for her this morning."

"Well I'm glad that's easily cleared up but you know it'll be a lot harder for me if the press catches wind of you in the middle of a bank robbery."

"It's not like I planned this!"

"That doesn't make cleaning up your messes any easier," Wakagi shrugged, crossing his arms. "Anyways, I'll do what I can and Sakurada will get in touch if anything comes up."

"Aw, you big softie. What would I do without you?" Minako smiled and then gave him a kiss on the cheek, grinning when he grew flustered and then annoyed in response. She walked away before he could lecture her about "personal space" and "harassment", with Mako's deposit bag securely in hand. It was too bad she hadn't been able to deposit the money but she doubted the tellers would be open for business until at least this evening, if not tomorrow, considering they'd just been held up and nearly robbed.

"And here we thought you needed help," a husky voice chuckled as Minako walked out of the building. She turned and spotted two silhouettes emerging from the shadows.

"Haruka, Michiru," Minako greeted. "I didn't think you'd get here so fast."

"We were in the area," Haruka shrugged.

"Oh?"

"I was hoping to encounter your detective friend," Michiru murmured, stroking her mirror, "I had tried to scry him the day before, to get an idea of who we're dealing with, but I was only able to see a silver mist."

"That's odd." Minako turned back towards the bank and squinted, hoping to catch a glimpse of the detective through the windows. Not that it would help much. She couldn't read auras like Rei or Hotaru, so she wouldn't be able to tell if something was shielding him, and although she was deadly accurate when it came to emotions, Mr. Fox emitted about as many emotions as a rock.

"Wait, he's in there now?" demanded Haruka, clueing in from Minako's actions, and looking ready to have a different sort of encounter with the detective. Mainly one that involved her fist.

Minako sighed, giving up, and turned back around.

"He is. He's the reason you girls came all this way for nothing." She smiled, "Thanks for that by the way."

"No problem. Now if you'll excuse me, I think it's time I have a little chat with your stalker." Haruka grinned, cracking her knuckles as she strode past Minako.

Michiru was quicker, however, and snagged Haruka's arm before she could take more than a single step. "Patience dear. He's currently surrounded by officers."

"What's that matter?" Haruka scowled, settling back down, "Doesn't Minako have the TCPD in her pocket?"

"Just their boss," Minako corrected.

Haruka threw her a disgruntled look that said 'same thing.'

"In either case," Michiru continued, ignoring their interruptions, "I don't think it would be wise. He's merely doing his job. Confronting him would only add you to his list of suspicious suspects and me, as well, by association." She gave Haruka a stern look. "I do not want to become a suspect, Haruka."

"Well then," Minako smiled, bringing the couple's attention back to her, "I suppose that's my cue to leave before he catches me out here talking to you both. You'll tell me if you learn anything further?"

Michiru nodded her acquiesce while Haruka huffed in the background, still itching for a fight.

Minako thanked them again and departed for Mako's cafe. She made it two blocks and around the corner before letting her shoulders drop in fatigue. Using her powers without transforming always left her feeling a little anemic. Good thing Mako-chan had a dark, raspberry mousse hidden in the back fridge with her name on it! She couldn't wait to eat it up.

And then she would call Rei and ask her to "look" deeper into one Detective Koizumi.

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#minako aino x kunzite #minako aino #sailor venus #Kunzite #sailor moon #fanfiction #a relentless pursuit

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my-life-with-migraine · 5 years ago

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16 Facts About Migraines

Unless you suffer from migraines yourself, you may think that having a migraine means having a really bad headache. But debilitating head pain is only one part of the medical condition called migraine disorder. Other common symptoms are nausea, dizziness, fatigue, sensitivity to light and sound, and even temporary blindness. The symptoms and causes of migraine look different in different patients, and researchers are only now beginning to understand what the condition is and how to treat it. Here are some of the most enlightening facts we know about migraine disorder.

1. IT'S THE THIRD MOST COMMON DISEASE IN THE WORLD.

Even if you don’t suffer from migraine, chances are you know someone who does: The disorder affects 14.7 percent of the population, or one in seven people, around the world. In the U.S. alone, roughly 39 million people are affected by the condition. Chronic migraine(experiencing at least 15 headache days per month over a three-month period, with over half being migraines) is more rare, impacting about 2 percent of the world population.

2. WOMEN SUFFER MORE THAN MEN.

Of the one billion people on Earth who have migraine disorder, three-fourths are women. Medical experts suspect this has to do with the cyclical nature of female hormones. According to research presented earlier in 2018, NHE1, the protein that regulates the transfer of protons and sodium ions across cell membranes, is a crucial component of migraine headaches. NHE1 production likely fluctuates a lot more in women than in men. When scientists looked at the brains of lab rats, they found that NHE1 levels were lowest when estrogen was at its peak. In general, female rats also had four times the amount of NHE1 in their brains as males. If the same holds true for people, that could explain why women are not only more likely to suffer migraines in the first place, but why they experience them more frequently and more intensely, and have more difficulty responding to treatment.

3. MIGRAINE TRIGGERS VARY WIDELY.

For doctors and sufferers, migraine triggers can be a source of confusion. They vary from patient to patient and often come from unexpected sources that have no relation to each other. Stress, too much or too little sleep, dehydration, alcohol, and caffeine are some of the most commontriggers. Some people get migraines after eating specific foods, like cheese, and others are sensitive to changes in weather conditions like barometric pressure. Some people manage their migraines by pinpointing and avoiding triggers.

4. FOR SOME, AURAS ARE A WARNING THAT A MIGRAINE IS COMING.

Before the nausea, dizziness, and splitting head pain begin, auras warn some people that a migraine is on its way. Less than 25 percent [PDF] of migraine sufferers experience distorted senses, such as numbness or tingling in the hands or face, or blotches of light or darkness disrupting their vision. Auras usually occur 10 to 30 minutes before the migraine develops and last from five minutes to one hour.

5. SYMPTOMS CAN INCLUDE TEMPORARY BLINDNESS …

Unlike migraine with aura, retinal migraine is limited to one eye. Symptoms range from seeing twinkling stars to partial or complete loss of vision. The same eye is almost always affected, and the person typically regains their sight after 10 to 20 minutes.

6. … AND LOSS OF LIMB FUNCTION.

One of the rarest, and scariest, subtypes of migraine is hemiplegic migraine. People with this variant can experience weakness, numbness, tingling, or loss of motor function in parts of one half of their body, including their arm, leg, or face. Though sensations usually dissipate within 24 hours, they can last anywhere from one hour to several days. Sometimes they’re accompanied by typical migraine symptoms, such as head pain, but they can also occur on their own.

7. KIDS GET MIGRAINES TOO.

Migraine isn’t just a problem for adults—up to 10 percent of all school-aged kids are affected by the disorder, with reported cases coming from children as young as 18 months. According to the documentary Out of My Head (2018), migraine is the third most common reason for child emergency room visits. The symptoms of migraine in kids are similar to what’s seen in older patients: They may experience intense head pain, sick feelings, distorted vision, and sensitivity to sound and light. The major differences are that child migraines often develop suddenly and are shorter than they are in adults. In children, it’s not uncommon for the nausea and abdominal pain to feel worse than the actual headaches. Just as some sufferers don’t experience their first episodes until after puberty, some children with migraine grow out of it. According to one study, migraine symptoms disappeared completely in 23 percent of former child sufferers by age 25.

8. MIGRAINE MAY BE HEREDITARY.

For most people with migraine disorder, it runs in the family. Anywhere from 80 to 90 percent of migraine sufferers report having at least one family member who has it as well. If one parent has migraine, there’s a 50 percent chance their child will eventually have to live with migraine—and that risk shoots up to 75 percent when both parents have the condition.

9. MANY VETERANS RETURN HOME WITH MIGRAINES.

Genetics isn’t the only factor that contributes to someone’s chance of having migraine disorder. One study found that after a 12-month deployment in Iraq, 36 percent of veterans exhibited symptoms of migraine. The cause often stems from head or neck trauma sustained from explosions, falls, or other accidents during their service. While post-traumatic migraine goes away in most patients within a few months, in some cases it can develop into a chronic condition.

10. MIGRAINE IS LINKED TO THE "SECOND BRAIN" IN YOUR GUT.

In addition to the part of our nervous system that responds to outside stimuli, humans have an enteric nervous system: the part responsible for regulating digestion. Some medical experts believe that migraine is closely tied to this “second brain.” People with migraine are twice as likely to have IBS as people with tension headaches. Abdominal migraine, where the pain is concentrated in the stomach rather than the head, is one form the condition takes. It's most often seen in children, but it can affect adults as well.

11. DESPITE THE HIGH COST OF MIGRAINE DISORDER, RESEARCH IS UNDERFUNDED.

In 2017, the National Institutes of Health invested $22 million in migraine research. Asthma research received $286 million, breast cancer $689 million, and diabetes $1.1 billion.

12. THE DISORDER COSTS US UP TO $13 BILLION ANNUALLY.

Though migraine isn't life-threatening like these other conditions, it is widespread enough to have a negative impact on society as a whole. Workers with migraine often end up taking a lot of time off from their jobs, which can cost their employers. According to Out of My Head, it’s estimated that 113 million work days are missed annually due to migraine, adding up a to $13 billion loss.

13. MIGRAINE MAY HAVE INSPIRED PARTS OF ALICE IN WONDERLAND …

In the famous children’s book, Alice drinks a liquid that makes her grow many times her size and eats a cookie that shrinks her to tiny proportions. Migraine sufferers may recognize themselves in these passages. Possible symptoms of the disorder include micropsia and macropsia, or perceiving objects to be much smaller or larger than they really are. Some theorize that Alice in Wonderland author Lewis Carroll suffered migraines and wrote his experiences into his story. The book’s connection to migraine is so famous that today the related symptoms are commonly known as Alice in Wonderland Syndrome.

14. … AND PLAGUED A FOUNDING FATHER.

Another famous person from history who likely suffered from migraines was Thomas Jefferson. His symptoms could last for weeks and often appeared during stressful times in his life. There was even an episode that coincided with one of the most important nights of his political career. One night in June 1790, he invited Federalist Alexander Hamilton and Republican James Madison to his home for a dinner party in the hopes of getting his peers to agree on a location for the new U.S. capital. Despite dealing with lingering head pain from a migraine, he successfully brokered the compromise that landed the capital at its current spot on the Potomac River between Maryland and Virginia. In return, Madison agreed that he would not block Hamilton's plan for the federal government to take on state war debt, thus helping establish the young nation's credit.

15. MIGRAINE IS LINKED TO DEPRESSION.

In the U.S., up to 40 percent of people with migraine also have depression. Risk of anxiety, bipolar disorder, and panic disorder are also higher in migraine sufferers. Researchers are still figuring out the connections between mental illness and migraine. While the anticipation of painful symptoms can cause depression and anxiety in some people, experts believe that mental illness is often more than just an effect of living with migraine. The production of the brain chemical serotonin is involved in both migraine and depression. That’s why tricyclic antidepressants designed to increase serotonin levels are sometimes prescribed to treat migraine.

16. A NEW SHOT CAN TREAT MIGRAINE.

Many migraine therapies from the past few decades have been the result of trial and error. Medications designed to treat other conditions, such as antidepressants, epilepsy medicine, and botox, have all been prescribed to migraine sufferers, with mixed results. Earlier in 2018, the first-ever shot made to treat migraines specifically secured FDA approval. The shot, which blocks a peptide linked to migraine, is taken once a month and can improve symptoms or completely eliminate them in some cases. Before the new injection came along, the only other migraine-specific medications patients had to choose from were triptans, which stimulate the neurotransmitter serotonin. They can't prevent migraine, but they can help dampen symptoms by reducing inflammation and constricting blood flow. According to Out of My Head, triptans were first approved more than two decades ago—so new medication options are long overdue.

#Migraines #migraine #migraine treatment #migraine tips #migraine therapy #migraine symptoms #headache tips #headache #headache hacks #headache hack #healthy

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wtfrace · 6 years ago

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a lapse of judgement— chapter one, racetrack higgins.

in which rosie lewis is all of a sudden very flustered around her roommate, racetrack higgins— and has absolutly no idea what to do about it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

rosie lewis must have been on something last august. something that must have desparatley lapsed her common sense— otherwise there was no explanation for how she ended up living in a sub-par apartment with three chaotic boys.

she had just started her sophomore year of college, and after two of her roommates transferred to another school a state over, she was desperate for either help with rent, or a place to move in. she had put out an ad on craigslist, as well as several flyers around campus, and waited anxiously for a reply. it came in the form of an email from someone named albert desilva. the message had begun with okay this is a long shot, and had more or less gone down hill from there.

the boy had then explained that he, and two of his friends, had been kicked out of their shared house off campus (under circumstances that were absolutly not our fault, please don’t let that lapse your judgment) and they were looking for a decent place to stay. here comes the part that made rosie think she absolutly had to be smoking something at the time— because she said yes.

now, a year and a half later— she was living in a decently large, very messy, apartment with albert desilva, antonio, racetrack, higgins, and elmer kasprzak.

now, don’t think for a moment that rosie didn’t adore those boys. at first she had been hesitant towards their loud & boyish personality’s, but now she wasn’t sure how she had ever lived without them in her life. they were as messy as her, and usually pretty annoying— but above all that they were caring & considerate & really good at making her smile. living with them had come with perks, including but not limited to almost free takeout (via elmer’s job at the italian place a few blocks away), exposure to the best movies she had ever seen thus far (via albert’s excellent taste) and rarely wavering emotional support (via race’s general personality).

so it definitely wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy living with them— moreover that occasionally it made it hard to do simple things. last month, they had sat down to figure out bills together, but had become distracted half way through by a new episode of criminal minds. a few days after that they tried to do it again, and ended up following race to the roof to see what he claimed was “a giant garfield balloon” (which there was, but still.) now, as rosie tried to complete the simple task of creating a grocery list— she found herself overwhelmingly distracted.

“in conclusion,” elmer said assuredly, “turning race’s bedroom into a vegetable garden would be only profitable to the over-all wellbeing & financial structure of our group.” rosie looked up for the first time during his spiel, continuing to write vegan mac & cheese (cheap kind) as she did, and gave him a pointed look.

“and in this made-up situation, where exactly would race be living?” she asked, glancing at the tall boy that was currently trying to see how many of albert’s textbooks he could balance on his head.

“well, race is statistically the least useful person in this apartment. we could kick him out, or just make him sleep on a mattress on the fire escape.” elmer said dismissively, mostly joking but also a little serious.

“el, we aren’t kicking race out so you can overtake another room with your herbs & dahlia’s.” rosie said, a small smile on her face as she glanced pointedly at the not one, but three pots placed on top of the cabinets (so high that it took two people to water them, one with the watering can, and one holding a rickety step-stool.)

“aw, that’s sweet flower, you care about my wellbeing.” race said cheesily, dropping the books back onto the kitchen table & pinching her cheek. this brings us to what had been distracting her the most. all day she had been weird around race. he was an unusually touchy person, but rosie has grown so used to it she barely noticed— except for today. all of a sudden every touch sent her face heating up & her heart plummeting. it was the strangest thing she had experienced in a while, and it was beginning to make it difficult to be in the same room as him. now though, she was determined to finish her grocery list, and ignored the stir in her stomach to shoo him away with her pen.

“more like your rent, racer.” albert said, yawning as he joined them in the kitchen. “wanna watch interstellar with me, rosie?”

“no! i’m determined to get this done this weekend, and it’s sunday and i’ve barely finished a list of what we need.” rosie exclaimed, “the only thing in the fridge right now is elmer’s prized wonka-bar, and three half finished arizona ice teas. so if you don’t want to starve— help, or leave.” albert and elmer shared nervous glances, and simultaneously exited the room. rosie was very rarely angry or annoyed, but when she was, she was a force to be reckoned with. talk about an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.

but, to rosie’s great dismay, while those two left, race chose to stuck around.

“i can see you’re frustrated, rosie— and i assure you, we won’t leave this room ‘til your list is finished!” race said, sliding into the bar-stool next to her. great, just what she needed.

“c’mon race, be serious.” a statement equivalent to asking a penguin to be a giraffe.

“hey— serious is my middle name, doll!” rosie screwed up her face, ignoring the fact that her heart was beating rapidly at that comment. she was beginning to tire of whatever new variable was causing her body to go into SOS mode when she was around him.

“you sound like a newsboy from 1899 when you call me that.” she said, eyebrows raised impertinently, and cheeks dusted with red. oddly specific, but completely accurate. race grinned back at rosie, stealing the list from in front of her, and sliding the stool closer to her so their elbows were touching.

“there’s a soar lack of ninja turtle fruit snacks on here.” race said, then stealing the pen from between her fingers to scribble down a few words across the sheet of paper. it was going to be a long night.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

it took rosie the rest of the night to figure out what was bothering her.

after race had enthusiastically helped with the grocery list, he had been insistent on accompanying her to the store a few blocks away. the walk had felt a little better— the cool march air refreshed rosie a little, and she had settled into normal conversation with race (the downfalls of dunkirk, and the proper rating of 17th century artists.) they walked side by side, both with smiles on their faces, through the ever-crowded streets of greenwich village.

they got to the grocers at around 7, just as the sun was beginning to set, and rosie was thinking that maybe she had a temporary lapse in judgement earlier, seeing as she didn’t feel anything looking at race now. and then, he had blown her theory clear out of exsistence, when he easily scooped her into his arms, and deposited her into a shopping cart. rosie could feel her entire body flush red, as she gaped slightly at the taller boy. her stomach was doing a gymnastics routine not unlike elmer if you got him drunk enough, and race was grinning adorably like it was the most normal thing in the world.

still though, she had no idea what was causing her so much tribulation. until the canned foods section.

race had been unwilling to help rosie out of the cart for the entirety of the trip, insisting that she needed a break after working on her feet all day saturday— so she watched from her mildy uncomfortable seat in the basket, as race tried to bowl using a can of soup and six skinny boxes of spaghetti. too entirely flustered to insist that he stop, rosie simply stared— something in her alighting when he turned back to her with a pleased smile on his face. his hair was messy, in need of a cut, and hanging sloppily across his forehead— and every freckle & scar of his face was clear in the harsh light of the grocery store. his hands were raised in victory (having successfully knocked down all the boxes without being caught by an employee) and the baggy sleeves of his sweatshirt bunched at his wrists.

then she knew.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

24 hours later, rosie stared pitifully into space, as she ate a bowl of lucky charms, sitting criss cross on jack kelly’s countertop. jack, along with his boyfriend davey, leaned against the counter opposite her, eyeing the girl with an air of concern.

jack had been a friend of rosie’s for years— and had subsequently met davey (a friend of race, elmer and albert’s) when they were inevitably at the apartment at the same time. seven months later, they were dating, and sharing the rent on an apartment at the border of chelsea & greenwich village. albert called them gross, elmer called them a match made in heaven, but either way it was agreed that the four were subsequently the reason they met— and therefore should have the right to be the namesack of their first four children.

“okay, rose, you got your lucky charms. are you going to explain why you were on my doorstep in near tears at one in the morning, now?” jack asked, eyebrows raised with conviction.

“i got feelings, jacky— i need to know how to make them go away.” rosie’s voice came out barely a whisper, her statement sounding much more ridiculous once she said it out loud.

“you— what?” davey elbowed jack in the side, a knowing expression on his face as the two had a clear wordless conversation.

“you heard me!” the girl exclaimed, her face pitiful & desperate enough to draw genuine concern from the boy. “you got over kath, i need to know how to get over this.” jack scratched the back of his neck.

“well... it helped that kath was a lesbian. i’m assuming that’s not a variable in this situation.” jack shrugged, “c’mon rosie, you’re going to have to give us more information than that.”

“race.” the single word drew a scoff from jack’s mouth.

“rosie, i could have told you that weeks ago.” davey said, confusion clear in his expression, “what’s so bad about having feelings for race?”

“that kid wouldn’t do anything to hurt you if we paid him a million bucks & threw in a razor scooter.” jack added. rosie glared at them, opening her mouth to respond but struggling on how to word her feelings. jack crossed his arms over his chest, head tilting a little to the side.

“it’s a problem! i-i live with him! an’ on top of that he’s one of my best friends, and he would never in a million years like me back so if he ever found out— which he definetly would the way i’ve been acting, then—“

“dear god lewis, i love you, you know that, but you’re actually hopeless.” jack huffs, causing rosie to stare blankly at him. “race doesn��t like you back? how do you explain— like everything he does! are you forgetting the time he literally proposed to you with a basket of olive garden breadsticks!”

“he’s race, jack, he’s like that with everybody! that same day he flirted with a pigeon on the sidewalk outside of olive garden!” davey blinked, holding a hand up to interupt.

“first of all— that was months ago and the fact that you both remember it so vividly is a little unsettling. second of all, i knew him before you did, rosie. before he moved in with you he did flirt with anything that breathed, but now? i haven’t seen him give any man, woman, or bird other then you a second glance.” rosie looked dreadfully unconvinced, stirring her spoon absentmindedly through the now empty bowl. her heart had admittedly soared a little at the thought of race liking her.

for a split second, her brain let her imagine her and race together: sprawled across the sofa in the living room, his hand in her hair, we bare bears playing lowly in the background, race occasionally laughing gently & pressing a kiss to her forehead. she imagined waking up to his ungodly snoring, but smiling like an idiot anyway, because he was damn beautiful in the mornings. she imagined walking through little italy hand in hand with him, giggling as he pointed out stupid things in the windows of shops. then— she got a grasp of reality, pushing the thought out of her head. she couldn’t afford to get her hopes up— not when there was a huge chance race had never thought about her that way.

“i don’t like this,” rosie mumbled, setting the bowl by the sink, and pulling her knees to her chest. “how do i make it go away? seriously— no matter whether you think race likes me or not, how do i make it go away?” jack and davey exchanged a look, before laughing simultaneously.

“that isn’t really how it works, rosie.” davey said sympathetically, “you can act on it, or you can put up with it until it eventually fades away but—“

“i can’t put up with feeling like this for much longer.”

jack looked at her like the answer was obvious, “then act on it.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

part two to be posted soon

#racetrack higgins #racetrack higgins x reader #racetrack higgins x oc #race higgins #newsies #newsies live #newsies fic #albert desilva #elmer kasprzak #newsiesau #myworks

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nubnubblr · 6 years ago

Text

If You Do .1

Masterlist

THEA

"I really don't want to be here," BM whined, for the 100th time since we walked in the door, five minutes ago.

"We know," Charlie rolled here eyes.

"We've literally been here five minutes," I frowned.

"That's five minutes more than I wanted to be here," he grumbled.

"Dude, seriously," Sam chimed in.

"I'm just going to complain the whole time we're here, you should just let me go home,"

"You'll get bored with complaining eventually," I shrugged.

"No, I won't,"

"It's your money, you're building, and you have to live in it. You should at least have a say in what is bought," I tired to reason.

"Just take my card and get me a comfortable lounge, I don't actually care what it looks like," he held out his credit card waving it around.

"I'm not spending your money without you being here, besides, Sam can't lift things on his own and Charlie and I can't lift things. We need your muscles,"

"You can totally lift things, you actually scare me with your manual labour ability," he frowned.

"Yeah, well, I don't want to, besides we won't fit everything in Charlie's car and she won't let you drive it, so suck it up and enjoy,"

"Yo, what's our budget here?" Sam asked.

"Should we have really brought him here?" I turned to Charlie.

"Even if we hadn't told him, he would have sensed we were coming here, he has an IKEA radar. The amount of time he spends here on his own," she shook her head.

"Like you two in Target are any better," BM frowned.

"We only buy the essentials," I glared.

"You have two fruit bowls," he raised an eyebrow.

"And an empty spice rack for more spices than you two will ever actually use," he added.

"We need two fruit bowls, you boys are over more often than not and always eat our fruit so we have to buy more fruit, thus we need more space to store said fruit. Therefor, we need two fruit bowls. As for our spice rack, it's only empty because it's new and she bakes, and I'm a chef, we need all those spices," I defended.

"Also, shut up," I added.

"You would have made your point so much better if you didn't tell him to shut up," Charlie shook her head.

"The problem with Thea is she keeps talking when she should just stop, especially when she says something stupid, she just carries on, half the time trying to explain what she meant which just makes it worse," Sam stated.

"Shut up Samantha," I frowned.

"You didn't answer my question," Sam turned to BM.

"Just get what we need, beds, lounge, stuff like that," he shrugged.

"You realised he has probably been on Tumblr and the IKEA website, and already planned out the entire space by now, right?" Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever, the bar is finished and the upstairs bathroom has been paid for,"

BM had bought a building a few months ago and had just finished renovating the ground level from an outdated restaurant into a bar. Something he had been wanting to do since before we were in high school. The building's second floor, I assume use to be used as an office space or possibly a studio apartment seeing as it had a functioning bathroom, if you could call it that. So BM, who had just put basically all of his money into buying and renovating the bar, decided that he would use the office as a living space for him, Sam and our other friend Jae, who's jobs pay little and infrequently. It's a smart plan, except BM hates shopping and they're all currently sleeping on foam mattresses on the floor of the empty space. Which brings us here, to IKEA, which happens to be one of Sam's favourite places.

"Did you just give him a limitless budget?" Charlie frowned.

"God no, the budget is about half of whatever is in my account right now,"

"Only half?"

"Mm, the other half is delegated," BM nodded.

"I guess I'll have to work on a budget," Sam nodded.

"Yeah because you have so much money normally," Charlie pulled a face at him. Sam just mimicked the face she pulled and continued walking, BM shuffled his feet next to me continuing to make it obvious that he didn't want to be here. Because he hadn't made that blatantly clear already.

"Stop sulking, we'll be out of here soon enough," I nudged him.

"No we won't, you brought Sam to IKEA, we're going to be here for hours," he huffed as his phone started ringing.

"Hey bro, what's up?"

"Yeah we're not there, I've been kidnapped and dragged to IKEA with the girls, you've got to come save me... Yeah Sam's here too, the spare key should be in the usual place, just drop your stuff off and come down... Okay, see ya,"

"Jae's on his way,"

SAM

My phone buzzed in my pocket, the other four were bickering about the consistent whining which was just redundant. 'Bianca <3' flashed across the screen, I let out a sigh and slid it back into my pocket. The ringing stopped, and it started ringing again, when it rang for a third time I gave up on ignoring it and answered it.

"Hey," I sighed.

"Hey, I tried calling, where are you?" she asked as if we hadn't spoken less than twenty minutes ago.

"I told you I was going out, we're at IKEA getting some things for the apartment," I answered absently looking through the display room.

"You should have said so, I would have come with you, I know you hate IKEA, and I have killer interior design skills," I wouldn't call an entirely orange and pink apartment with tacky miniature statues and leopard print everywhere, killer interior design skills.

"It wasn't planned, it was another one of Thea's spontaneous ideas,"

"Thea," she hummed,

"Is Charlie there too?"

"Thea's here so,"

"Well I'm not doing anything, I'll come and help, you're apartment will need a feminine touch and god knows those girls don't have it,"

"It's okay, we won't be here too long, I'll just come to see you once we're done and we'll go get something to eat or something,"

"I don't mind really, I'll just get changed and be right there,"

"B, really we won't be long,"

"Love you," she chimed before hanging up.

"Was that Beunka?" Charlie asked, saying her name in the pretentious way Bianca insists it's pronounced.

"It was," I nodded

"Checking in?"

"Something like that, yo, checkout that bed," I changed the subject. It wasn't exactly hard to figure out that the girls and Bianca didn't get along, Charlie especially didn't like Bianca and Bianca was unnecessarily jealous of Charlie, she made it a point to try and be around me every time Charlie was.

"I see you in more of a racing car sort of bed," she teased.

"Have you ever though of stand-up? I mean you're hilarious," I rolled my eyes going to actually look at the loft style bed. It was the style of bed I was looking for.

"I resent your sarcasm,"

"In that case, I believe you should resent almost all of yourself," I countered.

"You don't know me,"

"Hey is anyone else hungry?" Thea asked.

"I could eat," Charlie shrugged.

"Why don't we grab some food while we wait for Jae?" she suggested.

"Sounds like a plan, anything is better than shopping," BM continues to whine.

"Dude, shut up, no one likes a whiny bitch," Thea frowned at him.

"Some people do," Charlie shrugged making a small dig at Bianca.

"Let's get food," Thea smirked.

"Does anyone even know where the food court is?" BM asked, they all paused and turned to me.

"What? Because I've been here a billion times you think I know where everything is?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah pretty much," was the general consensus.

"This way," I lead them towards the food.

"See," Thea stated smugly.

"No one likes a dick Thea," BM smirked at here.

"Not true," she smirked back winking.

"We can't take you anywhere," he shook his head at her.

"We can't take either of them anywhere," I pointed out, honestly they were as bad as each other.

"Good thing we brought you here then, huh?" Thea rolled her eyes.

"Like you two are any better, the only difference is we're funny and you're lame," Charlie shrugged.

"You think you're funny," BM muttered.

"Better to think we're funny than look funny like someone we know," Thea looked directly at him.

"Are you sure you're not actually 4?"

"Only mentally," she shrugged.

They continued to bicker back and forth while I lead them to the food court, Charlie added a comment here and there which threw BM off guard for a few seconds, long enough for Thea to throw a comeback at him. In the end he gave up, and sulked a little which only made them ridicule him some more.

"Look, food," I stated in an attempt to save him.

"Why are you looking at me? You eat more in one meal that both of us combined, in a whole day," Thea defended herself from and attack I wasn't staging.

"I was simply pointing out we were in the food court because you wanted food, do you not remember?"

"Probably not, her memory is as bad as the men she's attracted too," Charlie took the opportunities to make fun of her.

The two had a running joke, Thea liked old men and Charlie liked children. Every time, we'll not every time but quite frequently, if Thea finds a guy attractive he turns out to be over 30 and if it's Charlie finding a guy attractive he's between 18 and 20 which in her head is a child, in reality, they're only 4-6 years younger than her.

"Yeah well at least mine have memories, will yours even retain their memories yet?"

"They have their whole life to develop memories, yours are basically dust, they grow older as rapidly as they lose their memories,"

"That's how I like my men, old and dusty, at least they don't smell like a baby,"

"That's disgusting," Charlie pulled a disgusted face, if you didn't know her you would think it was the old and dusty comment, it was actually the baby smell comment, the smell itself actually makes her sick, she boarder line throws up. It's probably a good thing she hates children because I don't think she could handle having them.

"It still confuses me that you can literally use you bare hand to pick up any kind of animal poop, you don't even flinch if they get any form of bodily fluid on you but the slight smell of a newborn and you're out of that room so quick you would think it contained a plague," BM shook his head.

"Animals are adorable, babies a gross and sticky, I'm confused as to why people choose to have them,"

"You realize you were a baby once right?" He frowned.

"I didn't choose to have me, I would have aborted me," she shrugged.

"I would have aborted you too," Thea agreed.

"Like anyone else would understand what you're saying," Charlie countered.

"I have BM,"

"Who only understands you half the time,"

"It's not my fault he's dumb," she shrugged.

"I'm not dumb," BM drowned

"Yes you are," Thea nodded.

Arguing with her was pointless, she'll just keep going until she gets bored and then she'll tell me to shut up. I swear she has the mentality of a toddler, a cranky over tired toddler.

"Just sit down," he rolled his eyes.

"You can't tell me what to do,"

"So you're just going to stand there the whole time?"

"No, I'm going to sit down, but only because I want to, not because to told me too,"

"You really showed me," I replied sarcastically.

"Shut up," she pulled a face.

"Child," I retorted.

"You realizes you're as bad as each other right?" Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"We are not," we both said at the same time.

"Thea is worse than me,"

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Can we just get food so we can get back to what we came here for?" Sam stated.

"He's getting IKEA itchy," Thea smirked.

"He's always IKEA itchy," Charlie stated.

"Where is Jae?" Sam ignored them.

"On his way, why?"

"Because he'll keep her entertained," Sam nodded to Charlie.

"One, don't refer to me as if I'm an infant, that's gross, and two he'll just join in and you know it,"

"She's right," Thea nodded.

"I'm always right," Charlie shrugged.

"You've been wrong before," I stated without thinking.

"Name one time I was wrong?" She challenged.

"Dude, she doesn't argue, comment, or make statements if she doesn't know she's right," Thea shook her head at me.

I was sure she had been wrong about something before. So I tried to think about it but I couldn't remember at this point.

"See" Charlie stated smugly after what felt like about five minutes of my inability to think of one.

"Never wrong," Thea smirked a millisecond later.

"Can we just eat?" I sighed.

"No one is stopping you," she nodded.

"What does everyone want? I asked.

"Why are you paying?" Thea teased.

"If it gets me away from you for five minutes,"

"That was mean," she frowned and pouted.

"You're annoying," I shrugged.

"I'm bored, I've been bored all week. Having nothing to do after working full time will drive a person crazy you know,"

"What's your excuse for when you were working?" I countered.

"I have to deal with you," she shrugged.

"You should try dealing with you,"

"If Charlie can deal with me I'm sure you can,"

"Charlie is as broken as you,"

"No, I'm not," she shook her head.

"Okay, she's on the same level of broken as you, just not as bad,"

"You're so mean when you're forced into going shopping," she pulled a face at me.

"Hello," Sam sighed.

We stopped bickering thinking he was talking to us but he was on the phone.

"We're in the food court, just follow the yellow line on the floor until you find the sign that says food court, yeah, okay just stay there and I'll come get you, bye," he hung up the phone and stood up.

"I'll be back in a minute," he stated leaving the table.

"Where are you going? Jae knows how to follow a coloured line," I frowned.

"It's Bianca not Jae," he said before leaving.

"Did anyone else know she was coming?" Thea pulled a face.

"No," Charlie also pulled a face.

"It explains why he has to go find her," Thea stated.

"Seriously, this is not what I had in mind when you said we were going to IKEA," Charlie rolled her eyes clearly annoyed.

"I didn't invite her," Thea defended.

"Well obviously," Charlie shot back.

"Play nice you two,"

"Shut up BM," they said in unison, which eased their irritation slightly seeing as they both laughed a little.

"Dude, does she even know the difference between a bed and a lamp?" Thea questioned.

"Of course she does, a bed is what she sleeps with Sam on, a lamp is what he turns off so he doesn't have to look at her when he's doing it," Charlie nodded.

"With that logic, she might think a lounge is also a bed, and probably the floor and a shower," I commented.

"Dude I don't want to hear about their sex life," Charlie pulled a face.

"Is it morally okay for him to sleep with someone that has the mental age of a toddler?" Thea asked sounding a little too serious.

"Toddlers are smarter that her," Charlie stated.

"You two are so savage," I shook my head.

"You should hear what we say about you," Thea smirked.

"That you're eternally in love with me?"

"Not even in your dreams," she shook her head.

CHARLIE

It didn't take long for Sam to come back with Bianca. Yay. I noticed her hair first, her usually very bleached, probably severely damaged, bottle blond hair was still mostly the same, except she had ombréd pink through the bottom, which interestingly enough, was the exact hairstyle I had the last time I'd seen her. Not that I was surprised.

"Hey everyone," she plastered on a smile, I'm guessing it was fake seeing as Sams face held a slightly bored, slightly annoyed expression which he normally had when Bianca was annoyed and had tried to argue with him about what ever it was that had annoyed her. Probably my presents here. She was consistently pulling me aside and trying to warn and or threaten me to 'stay away from her man' which honestly only made me hang out with Sam more, mostly to spite her but partially to see if she would do anything because I was certain she only knew how to act threatening, or at least try. Please, my kitten holds more of a threat.

"Oh, you have a new hair style?" Thea asked slowly.

"Yeah, I just had it done. Do you like it?" She smiled smugly. That girl spends way too much money on her appearance, and it's not helping.

"I got kind of bored with it after about a week," I shrugged.

"I thought I'd seen it somewhere before," Thea nodded.

She had a habit of doing that, if I did something, or wore something, she would either do something extremely similar or just out right copy it. Honestly, she was probably insecure about how close Sam and I are, she should be more worried about the fact that Sam is only with her out of convenience.

"Let's eat," BM stated.

"Do you want something?" He turned to Bianca.

"Can I get something with no sugar, no carbs, no gluten or dairy, and is fat-free?"

"So, water?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Well she can't use up her calories this early in the day," Thea smirked.

"How many calories are you Sam?" Jae walked up behind him.

"Dude," BM frowned.

"What?"

"That's gross,"

"Thea put the idea out there, I just asked,"

"Thea shouldn't speak half the time," BM stated.

"Hey," she pulled a face.

"I hear Thea puts a lot out there," Bianca made an attempt at joining in on the usual banter, the issue there is, none of us liked her, not even Sam. Which meant it was okay for us to attack each other but it was not okay for her to do it.

This was clear by the way everyone stopped joking, BM looked over at Thea who looked both shocked and like she wanted to jump over the table, I half though she would, half knew she wouldn't at least not in such a public setting. Jae looked amused by the whole situation, but he usually was.

"That wasn't okay," BM stated slowly.

"Yeah That was kind of mean," Sam added with a small frown.

"Why? I was joking?" Bianca was completely oblivious to the mood.

"You're a joke," I shot.

"You think I'm funny?" She smiled not getting the insult.

"I think it's funny that Sam chooses to continue to put it in someone with an IQ of negative,"

"Charlie," BM shoot me a warning look.

"What? It's not my fault she doesn't understand when she's being insulted,"

"I think I would understand if someone was hitting me,"

"I said insulted not assaulted," I rolled my eyes.

"What's the difference?"

THEA

Charlie was getting more annoyed the longer their conversation continued. Sam looked uncomfortable, Bianca was literally too dumb to know she was being insulted but Sam knew, he wasn't an angry person so he wasn't going to get mad at Charlie for it, but that didn't mean he was okay with it either. Sometimes I felt bad for attaching her, in front of him anyway.

"Insulted is done verbally, assaulted is done physically," BM frowned explained trying to defuse the tension. Idiot.

"She'll figure out the difference on her own if she keeps talking," I stated.

"What?"

"There is really no point explaining it, why don't we just eat and get this over with?" Charlie rolled her eyes.

"That's a great idea ChaCha," Bianca used my nickname for Charlie, which the boys barely got away with using and they only got away with it sometimes.

"Don't call me that," Charlie stared at her seriously.

"Why?"

"Only I get to call her that," I answered, to an outsider it probably seemed childish.

"Oh relax Theo, were all friends here," she shrugged this time using Charlie's nickname for me, which made me more mad.

"One, were not all friends, and two, you can't use our nicknames for each other because we don't like you, these three don't even get to use those nicknames and we at least kind of like them," Charlie stated but again the tone and complete message of her comment completely evaded Bianca.

"We're totally friends,"

"Okay B, you know how you only let your grandmother call you Bianca?" Sam stepped in.

"I don't let her, she's just too dumb to know how it's actually pronounced,"

"My point is you don't get mad when she calls you Bianca but you get mad when everyone else does?"

"Yeah, because it's pronounced Beunka,"

"This is the same kind of thing, only they can call each other by those nicknames because they get mad if anyone else does it,"

"Why? They're nicknames it's not like it's their real names,"

"Seriously, a brick wall has a higher IQ," Charlie shook her head.

"What is an IQ,"

"Why don't we just skip eating," I stated slowly, the less time we had to spend with Bianca the better.

JACKSON

I walked through the door and set the box on the table, the TV was on so I was assuming Mark was also the home for lunch, until he walked out of the bathroom clearly just having showered.

"Sick day?" I raised an eyebrow.

"There was nothing to do and I can do nothing at home," he shrugged.

"Right, do you actually do work anymore?"

"I do boss stuff,"

"Okay boss man I have pizza, because some of us only have lunch off and can't sit at home all day,"

"You choose to work, why are you home?"

"Because I'm apparently working in the city for the next two weeks," I sighed.

"And that's bad?"

"Do you know how much of a pain it is to work in the city? With rude assholes and everyone is a rush to get to where every they're going?"

"Dude, I work in the city permanently,"

"You sit in a CEO office while your slaves do the foot work,"

"What's your point?"

"I work on the street in the weather with the people, and they're not very nice,"

"Again you choose to work, no one forced you, besides one phone call and you wouldn't have to work in the city. So, I'm not really seeing the issue, I mean you're home for lunch and you'll be home like almost two hours earlier than normal,"

"I don't like working in the city,"

"Whatever, where's the pizza?" He shrugged.

We were finally leaving IKEA, two and a half hours later. We would probably have spent more time and had more fun, or any kind of fun, if Bianca hasn't of been here. The girls were annoyed, mostly Charlie, probably because whatever Charlie pointed out for, not just Sam, but any of us, she insulted and pointed out something she thought was better - it wasn't. Then Bianca would get mad because we chose what Charlie or Thea pointed out, that gave the two a small victory but it didn't seem to minimize the irritation levels at all. You would think the tension would ease when we left the building, but it didn't.

"So where to now?" Jae asked once we'd finished loading the flat pack furniture onto the back of my Ute, the smaller items had gone into the back seat and boot of Charlies Mini Cooper.

"Well this isn't going to put itself together," Charlie nodded to the pile of boxes.

"So home?"

"Obviously," Charlie stated.

"Should we get something for lunch on the way? Like a hot chicken and some bread rolls?" Thea suggested, she was like a mother sometimes, when she wasn't a four year old anyway.

"Sam and I can get it," Bianca suggested. The girls faces changed.

"Why would you get it?" Charlie frowned.

"We don't have anything in my car, it will be easier,"

"Oh, you're not helping," Charlie shook her head.

"Sure we are," Bianca smiled.

"Sam," Charlie gave him a serious look.

"Charlie's rights, Beunka took time out to come and help with shopping when she didn't have to. You should take her to lunch to thank her," I suggested, Sam nodded understanding what I was doing.

It was bad enough having them all in IKEA, if we left Bianca in a small space with Charlie, Thea, and tools, it probably won't end well. It's worrying enough letting Thea handle tools, let alone giving them a target.

"That's a good idea, let's go to lunch,"

"We can't just leave them to do it, if there's more people not will get done quicker,"

"Like you'll be any help anyway," Thea rolled her eyes.

"No I don't think it will, besides the room isn't very big so it will just be cramped with a lot of people being in there," Sam stated ignoring Thea's comment.

"I really feel like we should help,"

"Why don't we go to that restaurant you wanted to go to, the one your friend was bragging about?"

"Really? I thought you didn't want to go?"

"But you want to, so do you want to go to lunch?" Sam pushed.

"Of course, sorry guys we'll help next time,"

"Yay," Charlie rolled her eyes sarcastically.

CHARLIE

"Do you think I could run her over and claim it was an accident?" Thea asked.

"She's too dumb to think it was on purpose, and if she did it wouldn't take much to convince her otherwise,"

"If she lived," Thea shrugged starting the car.

We followed behind BM's truck and Bianca followed behind us, for a minute I was worried that she had changed her mind about going to lunch and had decided the come and help us instead.

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havekiddoswilltravel · 6 years ago

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Cuba Travel Tips

Havana, Cuba trip report and pro tips for a safe, personalized family travel adventure to Cuba.

Tips for family travel to Cuba - A guide to exploring Cuba with kids, friends, family or multigenerational groups.

Did you know that you can in fact still travel to Cuba independently?

Updated: July 2019 with new Cuban travel rules.

We cruised prior to the US restrictions. You can however, still enjoy these Cuban tours by traveling by air to Cuba. Keep reading for more details.

Our family of six enjoyed a 5 night Key West and Cuba overnight cruise aboard Royal Caribbean’s Majesty of the Seas in December 2018 prior to the cruise ship restrictions. We traveled with four kids ages 13, 10, 7 and 5 and thus felt that a cruise was a comfortable way for us to explore Havana. We’re hooked and already planning a return land trip in order to enjoy more of the island. The Cuban people were gracious, funny and talented. Our guide Dayami is fluent in both English and Spanish and a breath of information about the history, culture, art, music, architecture and food of the island.

2018 Cuban travel update: The U.S. announced new travel rules for Cuba. Americans can no longer travel to the island under the People to People category as an individual and you're unable to patronized any military - owned business.

Legal travel to Cuba is still possible under the Support For The Cuban People category and my recommended tours can assist you in planning a safe, educational and cost effective trip to the island.

Have Kiddos Will Travel Cuba Tours offer: A one of a kind safe, private tour option for those wanting to visit Cuba and experience it like a local.

What we did in Havana:

Dayami picked us up at 9:00 am at the Saint Francis of Assisi Square

(the plaza right across from the cruise ship terminal in Old Havana).

We started with a guided walking tour in Old Havana (about 2 hours) which included:

- All four main squares

- Some of Hemingway’s favorite places in the city

- Handcrafted perfume shop - the perfume is inexpensive and comes in beautiful hand made pottery.

- Free entrance museums - our kids loved these museums. We had to drag our 10 year old son out of the art museum.

- Cigar/coffee/rum shopping - Dayami was an angel and sat with our kids at a nearby table while my husband and I enjoyed this amazing tasting. I can’t recommend it enough. There was a live band playing during our tasting. In fact, music and dancing was everywhere in Havana. Buy Cuban coffee (I regret not buying more as gifts). Dayami is incredibly knowledgeable about Cuban rum and cigars. We bought two boxes (4 bottles total) of Havana Club 3 year white and 7 year dark rum for approximately 20 CUC. We also brought back 25 (fiftieth anniversary) Cuban Cohiba cigars. We bought handmade individual cigar boxes for the ones that we gave as gifts.

We did a coffee-rum-cigar tasting/sampling. This service (about 1 hour) is provided by a Habanos sommelier Cuban cigar expert). I highly recommend this tour option. We learned so much and it added to our overall experience in Havana.

After the walking tour, Dayami had a air conditioned car with ready to drive us to the main places of interest in the city. I loved that she was flexible and worked with our children. We took extra breaks for water, snacks and to use clean bathrooms. She knew all of the best places to use the facilities and though I was prepared with my own toilet paper, we ended up never needing it.

Our family’s personalized itinerary:

- Ride along the Malecon (sea wall drive)

- Colon Cemetery (World Heritage Site)

- Callejón de Hamel (rumba performances/Afro-Cuban religion/art scene)

- Central Park

- Capitol building

- National Hotel

- San Jose Handicraft market

- Fusterlandia community/art project

- Revolution Square

- Rainforest of Havana (National Park)

- Bay fortresses and the Christ of Havana (viewpoint)

Dayami made a reservation for us a privately owned restaurant and we enjoyed it. We were lol a bit when we arrived because we literally walked behind a normal looking home in Havana and entered a massive outdoor restaurant which was packed with people and even had a live band. Our total lunch cost was 74 CUC which included drinks, 3 orders of chicken and all you can eat white rice and beans.

The whole tour was from 9:00 am to 5:00 pm, take into consideration that lunch may took over an 1 hour.

What to buy in Cuba:

- While cigars and rum are the main things that people buy when in Cuba, we also bought an amazing art piece (beware that customs will attempt to charge you art fee if you travel back with it in an art tube), engraved leather baseballs, Cuban key chains that I then turned into Cuban Christmas ornaments and a small piece of wood art. We ran out of time to stop by Clandestina, but they do have an online shop that you will not want to miss.

Pro - tips: - Everyone (including children) will need a passport book (not a passport card) that is valid for at least 6 months after your trip. Two pages are required for entry - exit stamps.

- Each traveler will need a Cuban Visa if you're a US citizen (please research Visa laws for other countries) which cost $75.00 per person. Take your time completing this simple form, as mistakes are not accepted and you will have to buy another one.

- U.S. credit and debit cards generally do not work in Cuba. Bring cash to cover your stay. The Cuban government requires that travelers declare cash amounts over 5,000 USD. Travelers should note that the Government of Cuba charges a 10 percent fee for all U.S. dollar cash conversions; this does not apply to electronic transactions or cash conversions in other currencies. - US dollar and credit cards are not accepted in Cuba. Do your research regarding how much money you will need and plan accordingly. I recommend changing money into Cuban Convertible Pesos (CUC) before meeting your guide (for lunch, souvenirs, rum, the sampling, etc.). It is recommended that you change US currency to Euros prior to your trip (AAA will do this without an additional conversion fee for members) and then change euros to CUCs upon arrival. At the time of our visit The official exchange rate (at the time of our trip in 2018) is 0.87 for every 1 USD (due to the 13 percent US dollar fee). The exchange rate for the euro at the time our trip was 1.15.

- The export of Cuban convertible pesos (CUC) is strictly prohibited, regardless of the amount. When departing Cuba, U.S. travelers are advised to exchange Cuban convertible pesos (CUC) back to US Dollars well before reaching airport security checkpoints to avoid potential confiscation of the CUC. For other currencies, travelers may export up to the equivalent of 5,000 USD. Anyone wishing to export more than this amount must demonstrate evidence that the currency was acquired legitimately from a Cuban bank. - Dayami was very helpful in regards to helping us figure out how much cash we would need for all of our tours, meals, and shopping.

Getting there:

- You can fly to Havana depending on your group size and family needs. We’ve had family members fly and we did an overnight Havana cruise with Royal Caribbean as we were traveling with small children and wanted access to the comforts of the cruise line. Cruising if no longer an option as of June 2019.

Where to stay:

- If you’re flying, I highly recommend Casa Habana for a one of a kind, local Cuban experience.

What to pack:

- Bring sunblock, hats, and sun glasses. I packed a back pack with safe drinking water, snacks and treats for our kids.- Wear comfortable walking shoes. Havana streets are beautiful, but the cobblestone is hard on your feet.

What NOT to do:

- Leave your jewelry and fancy items at home.

- Don't take pictures of Cuban police or military.

- Keep your strong tourist opinions about Fidel, the Castro family, the Revolution or communism to yourself. Avoid discussing politics (history discussions are okay) and you're good.

- There are two currencies in Cuba. The first is the Cuban Convertible Peso CUC (which tourists use) and is worth 26 Cuban Pesos CUP. Count your change and keep your street smarts about you.

- Don't expect to have access to the many comforts of home. There is almost no access to many of the consumer goods that are common for us in the United States. So, make sure to bring that which you can't live without. If you wan't toothpaste, a toothbrush, toilet paper, hand disinfectant, mints or snacks, make sure to bring them with you.

- Print out all of your relevant travel documents prior to your trip. I know, we’re digital people but access to technology in Cuba is pretty much nada. If you think you’ll need it, print it at home.

- We’re big foodies and thus find it crucial to discuss Cuban food in Havana versus Cuban food in the United States and other parts of the world. Due to trade restrictions and general lack of access to ingredients that we take for granted, (our guide Dayami did a great job explaining the Cuban rations to our kids) we found the food to be good enough, but not something to write home about. The saving grace was that our kids love white rice and beans and literally were “starving” from all of the walking. They ate their food and loved it, with no complaints. Pro tip: if you’re traveling to Cuba, pack some salt and hot sauce. You’ll thank me.

- Book your Cuba tours before you travel. The internet is hard to come by in Cuba and thus, don’t expect to be able to research or use the internet to communicate with tour guides while on the island. We arrived via a cruise ship, and I had all of my confirmation information from Dayami printed and I had confirmed pick up times and location with her while we were in Key West and still had internet service.

By booking a trusted private tour, you will save hundreds of US dollars on your excursion time while on the island. Our tours are priced per car, not per person for a group of four and can be coordinated to accommodate larger family - group sizes.

- Lastly, let’s talk about safety. We’re a family of avid travelers. Our kids have had passports since they were newborns and we travel extensively throughout the United States and abroad. This cruise to Cuba was our third cruise in 2018 alone and all six of us are Diamond Crown and Anchor with Royal Caribbean International. Even with all of the stamps in our passports, I was perplexed by how safe we felt in Havana. Despite what our history classes and news tell us about communism and Cuba, we felt safer in Cuba than any other place that we’ve traveled to. Use common sense and respect the local culture and you’ll have a blast.

Havana, Cuba - YouTube

https://havekiddoswilltravel.net/cuba-tours

Check out the link above for a full list of tour options and contact Dayami Interian [email protected] to discuss further planning. Your won’t be disappointed!

About Ruth: I’m a wife and mami of 4 active and globe-trotting kiddos. I’ve always loved a good adventure and truly believe that it’s possible to travel with kids. Join me, as I share our adventures and inspire you to get out of the house with your kiddos. Whether you’re planning a family vacation, a road trip or a trip of a lifetime to an exotic destination, I’ll share insights, trip reports and information that will inspire you. Check back often to stay up to date on things to do with kids at your next travel destination.

family travel - adventure - explore - Travel with Kids

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thesewomenrulemyworld · 4 years ago

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kyloren · 7 years ago

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«you have witchcraft in your lips» —famous!Bughead

When Jughead Jones and Betty Cooper were cast as leads for HBO’s Harry Potter prequel show Magic is Might, they thought they did not know each other. They were wrong.

note: this is a collaborative work between myself and @lilibug--xx. I wrote Jughead’s POV and she Betty’s. Be warned, we are each other’s betas, too.

read it on ao3.

“A dress made of air and webs and you,

The wet dreams evaporate as they come true.

To anyone else just endless blue,

An invisible kite string connects me to you.”

— Pieces of Sky by Beth Orton.

CHAPTER ONE: mr jones and me, we’re gonna be big stars…

@Variety: HBO picks up four pilot episodes, including Toni Topaz’s Harry Potter prequel project.

@Deadline: Up-and-coming musical director Kevin Keller branches off from theatre and confirms working on Harry Potter prequel series with HBO — Magic is Might.

@EntertainmentNews: BREAKING NEWS: Disney darling Veronica Lodge officially casted as one of the leads in Kevin Keller’s upcoming Marauders Era project — Magic is Might.

@Buzzfeed: You will not believe who was just confirmed to be cast in Magic is Might!

@CherryBombshell: To all my loyal, beautiful followers: Of course, I got the part. How could they not cast moi?

@NZHerald: Singer-songwriter Archie Andrews is rumoured to be involved with HBO’s Magic is Might.

@Deadline: Magic is Might Harry Potter prequel series finds its Sirius Black: “He walked in right off the street and I knew — that is our Sirius Black,” says showrunner, Kevin Keller.

@EntertainmentNews: HBO’s Magic is Might just cast its Remus Lupin, and it’s a very interesting choice.

@Buzzfeed: Magic is Might’s Remus Lupin is now — Remmy Lupin?!

THE WAYWARD PRINCE:

The thing about Jughead Jones — he was weird, and he liked to be weird.

Jughead Jones was the following things: adroit wordsmith, razor-sharp, and a smart-mouthed asshole. He was not, however, the sort a teenage girl’s dreams were made of. He was a little too tall and a little too angular with a face that was a little too fond of scowling to be conventionally attractive. He had two girlfriends in the span of his entire life, and first one he’d acquired when he was nine for the span of two days. He was akin to a scalpel — sharp-edged, clinical, and very good at cutting people out of his life.

Except, Sabrina.

Never Sabrina.

And because of Sabrina — he was here, regretting everything.

��This,” Jughead grumbled for the nth time, “is all your fault.”

“Yes,” Sabrina agreed, throwing a dusky-blue button-down at him with a glare that clearly conveyed wear this or else, “it is my fault that you’ve landed the biggest television role of this year. I apologise for being magnificent.”

Jughead snorted. “Potter is the lead.”

“Who cares? Sirius is obviously meant to be the hot one. That makes his role the bigger fish. And you,” Sabrina said, tilting his head sideways and inspecting the carelessly casual style she arranged his hair in (read: brushed once and let it air-dry), “cousin-german, will soon be smiling from a poster on every pubescent girl’s wall and be the main feature in their dreams.”

“If it’s all the same to you,” Jughead’s scowl grew deeper, a feat he had not imagined was achievable before he’d done it. “I’d rather not.”

Two hours later, two thirds of which were spent navigating L.A.’s atrocious traffic, Jughead found himself lounging in a deceptively comfortable egg chair in a Hollywood studio, waiting to proceed with the first script reading session with the rest of Magic is Might cast. Sabrina, primly perched to his right, was scanning the others over the brim of her rapidly cooling coffee cup with shrewd, pale-grey eyes, as Jughead lazily thumbed through the script.

“Stop eyeing them like you want to wear their faces as a mask, Ree,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

“I am so not. I’m eyeing them like I want to make a fashionable skin suit, obviously. Get your facts straight, Jones.”

Here was the thing; — Jughead firmly believed that if you did something, you better put your best foot forward from the start; to do your very best at everything you undertook and not half-ass it simply because it required effort. (Life required effort, Jughead often reminded himself, if it didn’t it wouldn’t be so damn difficult.)

This stance seemed at odds with his disaffected and cynical slacker persona, but what could Jughead say — he was contrary like that. He could remain apathetic and be a pedantic perfectionist at heart; he had layers, like a lasagna.

But precisely that sort of attitude had landed him the lead role in Magic is Might as Sirius Black.

It had happened nine days ago, when Jughead had accompanied Sabrina to her second audition for Magic is Might — she had failed to get Lily Evans’s role and was trying out for Narcissa Black. Jughead was there for emotional support, for the sort of get your shit together, you walking waste of space pep-talks Sabrina and he excelled at. He was there to permit his hand to be crushed in a vice grip as she waited for her name to be called, and to take her to Wildflower Café by their apartment to gorge on breakfast foods and stuff their faces with toasted marshmallow milkshakes in the face of another disappointment.

Jughead Jones was, by profession, a screenwriter; he wrote seven plays, one of which had been actually made into a film. He was not an actor. The universe disagreed, however. Kevin fucking Keller disagreed, too, apparently, because the moment Jughead had walked up to a dumbfounded-looking Sabrina after her audition — handkerchief at the ready, just in case — he’d been spotted by Kevin fucking Keller’s eagle-eyed stare. Kevin fucking Keller who’d taken one look at Jughead, pointed his finger at him and with eyedrum piercing snap, barked out, “You, there — in here, now.” and Sabrina, that fucking traitor, had pushed him forward into the audition room.

It was serendipitous he knew the script like the back of his hand, having practiced with Sabrina until they were blue in the face, it was also fortuitous his reaction in the face of sheer audacity was to fall back on his most defining traits — sarcasm and generally all-around fuck-you attitude.

Both, as it had turned out, were great characteristics for one Sirius Black.

So here he was, Forsythe Pendleton Jones the third, newly minted actor extraordinaire with no education about the craft and enough talent, according to Keller, to fill the Pacific ocean and then some — out of his depth, and feeling utterly displaced.

It was a peculiar feeling, foreign and unwelcome — Jughead hated it with the blazing ebullition of pure abhorrence.

“Hey,” Sabrina called, soft as a whisper, placing her hand on his knee, stilling it. Jughead hadn’t realised his left leg had been bouncing. “Relax, bro-bro.”

Jughead opened his mouth to reply something along the lines of Shut it, hambone, but was interrupted when a tall shadow of a small person fell across his lap.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mad Max himself,” commented a small, red-headed girl on berry-red charged murder-weapons on the lam from the law and thus posing as women’s footwear. “So, tall, dark, and inexperienced, how does it feel to finally be in the real show biz?”

There was a refractory set to Jughead’s clenched jaw, so Sabrina answered in his stead, snickering, “I don’t know Big Red, you tell us?”

The girl’s exceedingly red mouth was reset out of its perpetually sullen pout into a grimace of distaste. “For a virtual nobody, you sure have a mouth on you, Emily Strange.”

There were four rules Jughead Jones instinctively followed whenever he chose to speak: Was he being rational? Was he being truthful? Were his words necessary? Were they kind? Often times, if he had not met all of his criteria, Jughead would settle on keeping his silence a while longer.

This, was not such a time.

“Is that all you can do,” Jughead found himself rasping out, “try your utmost to diss people with painfully obvious references? You’re not doing a very good job, are you?”

“You’re a pretty cool customer, huh?”

“I hide my inner pain underneath a stoic visage,” Jughead quipped. Cheryl Blossom looked like would like nothing more than to dig her red-tipped claws into Jughead’s stoic visage.

“Hey, guys,” said a guy in corduroy slacks and a blue-yellow varsity jacket of all things; he was average-height, but with a Heroic Build identifying him as James Potter material. There was a hint of admonishment in his tone, but not enough to reign anyone in. “We’re supposed to be getting along…”

Jughead was utterly unsurprised when he was promptly ignored.

Big Red sneered down on them and with a snazzy flip of gloriously red hair, pointedly perched on the corner of the oval table. Then, she extended a bedazzled with a shape of a cherry phone Jughead didn’t realise she held in front of her on a selfie-stick, and with that godawful pout, began, “See, my lovely cherries, when presented with a choice between either Tim Burton Junior and his blonde Fran Bow or a ginger Kelly Clarkson, Cheryl Bombshell has no choice but to choose herself. I certainly hope their acting is better than their personalities because those are as parched as a dry spell.”

“Oi, Cherry Bomb!” a female producer barked sharply, the one with pink-striped hair and a punk attitude, “don’t fucking live blog a closed script reading, you imbecile!”

“Don’t call me that!” Cheryl Blossom snarled, teeth unnaturally white against the vivid red of her mouth. “How are my cherries supposed to know what I’m doing at any given moment if I don’t blog about it?”

“I don’t know,” Jughead grumbled, too low to be heard by anyone but Sabrina, who promptly elbowed him in the ribs, “maybe try not to seek validation from a faceless mass of people online?” said the kettle to the pot, he mentally added.

The woman with the pink hair was even shorter than Cheryl, but when she stood up, she cut an impressively intimidating figure nonetheless. “This,” she growled, “is what we get for casting a bloody Instagram starlet.”

“She’s a solid choice, Toni,” Keller admonished, softly, gingerly prying away her fingers off his bicep, “she can act and her hair is iconic. What more could we ask for?”

“A fucking professional attitude for one. And maybe,” Topaz, that was her name, Jughead finally remembered, pointedly shouted in red-head’s direction, “not to always pout like she’s about to suck dick.”

Cheryl Blossom looked up from the highly-focused examination of her razor-sharp talons she’d been performing and pouted. “I don’t suck dick on sheer principle, you grotsky little byotch.”

Varsity Jacket raised his hands in placation. “Okay, seriously, maybe you should—”

“Toni, go smoke a fag and find your chill,” cut in Keller, and her hand immediately shot up, giving him the middle finger, but she left the room nonetheless. “And Cheryl, take it down a notch. I’m serious, you hear me?”

Cheryl turned away from him with a huff, but she hadn’t said anything. Instead, she began typing away furiously on her phone.

Huh, thought Jughead.

Kevin Keller was not a tough guy, he noticed, he did not have a commanding presence. Even Varsity Jacket drew more attention to himself with his ridiculous floppy hair, freckled face, and All-American attitude. But, Jughead decided, Kevin Keller understood women. With that in mind, Jughead settled back in his chair, reading over the script yet again.

It was fifteen minutes later when Toni Topaz strode into the room, her combat boots practically abusing the dotted, grey linoleum with the force of her steps, not looking an iota less stressed. “Fuck it,” she announced, “if we wait anymore for those two, we’ll get behind schedule.”

“All right, then,” Keller said, clapping his hands, “places, everyone.”

Like the asshole she was, Sabrina took the seat assigned to him, next to Varsity Jacket, and switched their name planks with a wink. Jughead had neither the inclination nor the naiveté to question her choices, so he dragged the chair he had been sitting for the last half-an-hour towards the table by its back, and positioned himself on Sabrina’s left, straightening the SIRIUS BLACK plaque so it was uniformly aligned with all the others.

The plague before a lounging Cheryl Blossom did not read BITCH FROM HELL, much to Jughead’s surprise, instead, it said — LILY EVANS.

A thought streaked across the forefront of his mind: We are all royally fucked.

Varsity Jacket’s named turned out to be Archie Andrews. Jughead knew that now because the first words out of that kid’s mouth were, quite literally, “Hey, there. I’m Archie Andrews, I’m eighteen, you may know me from last year’s 16 Birthday Wishes, and I look forward to working with ya all.”

Jughead could not have conjured this kid up had he even tried. He shared a concerned glance with Sabrina who mouthed, is he for real? and Jughead only had the energy to shrug. Yeah, he decided, he could see this Archie Andrews as one James Potter. If he squinted.

Cheryl Blossom did not introduce herself. She scowled at all of them, even poor golden retriever puppy personified Andrews, called them philistines, and proceeded with reading her lines. Interesting development: she could act. Expected conclusion: she packed too much malice into her lines and came of as passive aggressive. Keller had to intermediately correct her. That was, however, a correctable quality she could redeem herself from with enough effort; or so Sabrina had said, Jughead’s inescapable, little-devil-on-the-shoulder-type expert on all things acting™.

When it was his turn to read, Jughead did what he had always done when he read out loud his scripts during editing: tried his damndest not to stutter, keeping his voice smooth and even, and detached himself from the situation, rendering himself utterly impervious to nerves and apprehension. It was not Jughead Jones who had been reciting the script from memory as the lines printed on paper streamed before his eyes in a confusing, maddening swirl — it had been Sirius Black doing all those things; teasing his friend James, flirting with prim and proper Lily, arguing with Narcissa.

Disassociating might have kept Jughead’s anxiety at bay, but it made Sirius Black come alive.

So, of course, once Jughead had gotten into the swing of things, the universe rained on his parade: the door slammed open, revealing two girls standing on the other side of its frame.

“Oooops,” said the shorter one, her dark hair reflecting light attractively as she stode in the room. She had not sounded particularly sorry, Jughead noticed. “Apologies, hadn’t meant to barge in quite so—”

“Veronica,” Toni cut in, as bitingly as a wolf, “you were supposed to be here half-an-hour ago!”

“That late, huh,” muttered Veronica assumingly Lodge, flipping her wrist to check the slim, diamond-encrusted watch on her left hand. “Apologies, Toni, darling, but L.A. traffic is simply odious, as you well know. Got held up.”

“By what — appearance of abominable snowman in the middle of Franklin Avenue?”

“Not quite,” Veronica replied, a sly not-quite smile settling on her face, “Betty and I—”

“Of course, you had hamstrung Cooper, too.” Toni cast a dirty look over Veronica’s shoulder at a willowy, nervous-looking blonde still hesitating in the doorway. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you there, princess.”

“Well, as I was saying, Betty and I,” continued Veronica Lodge, bulldozing over Toni completely and out of the corner of his eye, Jughead could see Call Me Archie Andrews’s jaw unhinge a little, “were late completely by accident, but it was all my fault. Let’s just say, a Lodge doesn’t always land on their feet.

“Still, I had to amend such an insufferable grievance,” Veronica smiled, charmingly, still sly as a fox. “Imagine how tickled pink I was to learn we are not only headed into the same building, but for the same script reading—”

“To which you are late; both of you,” grumbled Toni, but she seemed to have lost most of her heat. Kevin was rubbing her shoulders soothingly as she massaged her temples. Momentarily, Jughead wondered if she was prematurely grey beneath all that pink dye.

“—long story, short: Betty here,” Veronica said, stepping back and drawing the taller girl into her side. “Is my new BFF and I love her to pieces.”

“From a five minute meeting,” Kevin asked, corner of his mouth twitching.

“Boo, you whore,” teased Veronica, earning an unexpect snort from Sabrina, “it’s love at first sight. Don’t judge.” Then:

“You there,” Veronica snapped her fingers in the direction of a fish-eyed assistant Jughead took care to ignore — she’d been making moon-eyes at him, according to Sabrina, and there were times to be wary of his cousin’s advice, but not in instances such as this one. “Fetch me a skinny venti white mocha, one shot, with two pumps of sugarfree vanilla, no whip — pronto. I can’t think clearly without my daily recommended injection of sugar and caffeine.”

Immediately, the situation dissolved into absolute bedlam as everyone clamoured for Ginger’s attention to place their coffee order, too. She’s a sly one, Jughead thought for the third time, smart, too.

Here was the thing about Jughead Jones: he was an objective observer of life, not an active participator. An introvert and a borderline misanthrope, he regarded the world from a safe distance of cool, clinical detachment — he watched and he recorded and he understood because he noticed enough to pay attention in the first place; he was perceptive, and he used this to his advantage.

And as if enticed by a magnetic pull, Jughead’s eyes drifted towards the leggy blonde to his right. The first thing he noticed her was this — she was uncomfortable. The second was that she was seemed nervous, displaced; and third — well, she was making her way towards him.

This girl, however, was totally throwing him for a loop.

She was dressed in a diaphanous, intricately embroidered, sapphire-coloured blouse, and when she shifted to pull out her chair, Jughead could see her laced brassiere through the silk material. Unexpectedly, she sat next to him, across from a plaque reading REMMY LUPIN. She had a striking look — blue-eyed and golden-haired with a face like a porcelain doll’s; wide-eyed, lovely, and haunting in its stillness. I met a lady on a moor, Jughead though, aureate hair, refulgent eyes; a dancing, starry sprite.

“Hi,” she greeted, turning to him, face splitting into a blooming, honeyed smile, white teeth gleaming, the streaming sunlight from the window behind them set her braid into a molten blaze, “I’m Betty.”

THE DREAMER:

“Three creams, two splenda, please.”

Betty Cooper was already running (hopefully, fashionably) late; not exactly a good first impression. She had woken up behind schedule (she had sort of fallen into the black hole that was Tumblr, recently, and had taken to staying up late); her cat, Caramel, had thrown up all over the kitchen floor. One side of her hair had dried flatter than the other — she was never going to bed straight from the shower ever again. And her uber had been running behind. Fantastic, she had uttered when finally arriving at the address given. The time on her phone alerting her that she should would have been inside already, had her morning gone accordingly, sipping on her coffee without a care in the world.

Well, that last bit was a stretch. If you asked anyone who knew her, they would say without a doubt that, Betty Cooper cared too much, about everything.

It was kind of her thing, though. Betty had a profound sense of perseverance and applied it to anyone in need of help that she came across. Polly (her older sister and recently, albeit somewhat regrettably, her manager) akined it to her being like a new mother, babying her fresh-faced ducklings. It often impeded her own desires and well-thought out plans.

Betty was a goner for a schedule. She could plan her day like nobody’s business — rarely did it ever actually go according to plan though. She would describe herself as being meticulous bordering the edge of perfectionist — Betty actually detested that word. Being in control of the situation, however, gave her life.

This was all new to her though, at least, fairly. Acting, that is.

She had been on edge of booking a flight back to San Francisco for what seemed like months. With only $200 to her name, and a can of cold soup sitting like a rock in her belly, Betty had auditioned for a role in Magic is Might. She had been failing auditions for months, her savings account was gone, and she was exhausted from working two menial jobs in order to have money to even go to auditions.

So, by all accounts, Betty figured an extra boost of caffeine was in order to make it through the whirlwind day that had been plotted ahead. A table read with her cast mates of Magic is Might, who she had yet to meet, was slotted for the whole day. As well as some promotional pictures of the group. The whole thing came together rather quickly for an HBO show, as she understood. Betty would be forever grateful that they hadn’t found anyone for the part of Remus Lupin yet.

Somehow, her name had been misspelled (she wanted to glare at Polly) and they thought it had said Elizander, on her papers. Whoever had been manning the audition hadn’t done a thorough look-through at the time and had barely looked up at her, just shooed her through the door. They seemed desperate.

To be fair, she hadn’t realized that the part of Remus was male. Of course, she had read the Harry Potter books, who hasn’t? But Polly had simply implored her to get her ass to this audition, without much else to go on.

Everyone had stared at her when she entered the room, but the guy in the middle of the group seated before her had stood up, planting his hands on the table with a loud smack.

“Excuse me, this isn’t —”

“No, excuse me, but that was incredibly rude.” A blush bloomed across her chest, streaking upwards, despite her outward display of confidence. “I’m here to audition, so let me audition before turning me away.”

It turns out that the man was Kevin Keller, one of the showrunners. Betty had desperately wanted to curl into a ball from mortification when she found out, but instead she had been engulfed in a hug while he had exclaimed “Such fire!”, and had let her do the audition.

They had complimented her afterwards. Apparently she had an inner voice that matched Remus’s suppressed darkness à la werewolf unequivocally. They were going to change the character and rework the script for her. Betty was unperturbed usually, but she had been floored by their sentiments.

Now, granted, they had done the same thing for the character of Snape, but that was for Veronica Lodge — ex-disney starlet who had bowed out of the limelight for several years only to return and turn everyone’s heads when she demanded the part of Severus Snape.

Betty mussed her life was going to be very different from here on out (assuming the show gets picked up after the contingent episodes), but she was looking forward to not cringing every time they ran her card through a register. She loved food, and coffee was a vice she wasn’t willing to give up.

In L.A. there seemed to be a Starbucks on just about every godforsaken block, so she had been thankful there was one conveniently close to the building she was now ardently walking toward. Betty was practically jogging as she took a sip of her drink, the mouthful of cold coffee was sweet and creamy. It was really refreshing — had she not just spilled it all over her shirt when someone plowed into her shoulder, jarring the cup from her hand.

Betty had stood frozen in place, her muscles turning tense as she panicked. Of course she had worn her favorite outfit today. Her pale pink sweater was now sticking to her skin uncomfortably, but thankfully there were only a few drops on her jeans — the dark color of them would prevent a stain from being noticeable, but her sweater…

“Oh my god, fuck, I am so sorry.”

Betty looked up from where she was still staring at her coffee soaked front, hand crushing the now empty cup. She blinked owlishly at the girl who had spoken. A dark haired girl with an equally empty cup, however stain free clothes — impeccable, by the way, in front of her. Small hands covered in white lace gloves (really? The urge to roll her eyes was strong) were reaching out for her and grabbing hold of her arm, gently albeit forcefully. Betty had no choice but to be tugged along and out of the path of the ravenous L.A. goers on the sidewalk.

“It’s… fine, really,” Betty hadn’t wanted to use the word, but there wasn’t anything else on the tip of her tongue. “I’m running late to my read through anyway, I should —”

Veronica interrupted her, raising her impeccably arched brows even higher. “Read through? As in, script?”

Nodding, Betty looked up to the tall glass front building they were almost in front of. She had been so close…

“Well, I think we’re headed to the same place then. Veronica Lodge,” the raven haired girl extended her glove covered hand and Betty raised her hand that wasn’t a sticky mess to shake it. Veronica continued, “pleasure to meet you…” she trailed off and Betty interjected.

“Betty Cooper.”

“Betty, allow me to offer you a new blouse, I simply can’t let you in there like that.”

Betty had started to shake her head, fingers itching to reach up and tighten her ponytail, but alas, she realized, she had worn her hair in a loose braid that brushed the edges of her collarbone. “No, that’s okay, you don’t have to do that.” she waved a hand, tossing her empty cup into the trash bin they had stopped by.

“I insist. Come,” it wasn’t up for debate anymore, that white glove grabbing Betty’s wrist again and pulling her toward a sleek black car that was parked some spaces down. “Don’t worry about being late, if we both are then they really can’t do anything about it."

Betty was surprised that the words didn’t sound pretentious coming from the other girls mouth, but humble. Veronica had pulled her inside the car, instructing her to pull the door closed. She hesitated before doing so, the door shutting with a soft click. She never thought being in a car alone with Veronica Lodge would ever be on her agenda, but here she was, with a collection of delicate tops spread over their laps that were distinctly not at all Betty’s style.

But beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Her green-blue eyes examined the choices carefully, taking in the price tags still dangling from them. Her throat was dry, her swallow surely audible. Everything was more-than-her-rent expensive. Plucking the one with the smallest numbers up, a transparent (okay maybe she had made a mistake here…) sapphire-blue blouse with colorful embroidered flowers, “This one is great,” she smiled at Veronica.

“Oh, excellent choice. Can’t go wrong with Derek Lam 10.”

She scrunched her nose up, fingering the material. Veronica had leant back against the seat, arms crossed expectantly. Betty glanced around to the car windows. “You want me to change here?”

“I expect you, too, yes.”

Betty sucked in a breath of courage and peeled off the stained sweater. Thankfully, her white (unlucky, she had decided) lacy bralette would be suitable underneath the barely-considered-a-shirt. She felt Veronica’s dark eyes on her, watching as she slipped the garment on over her head. Betty tugged it down gently, it only hit the top waist of her jeans.

Veronica reached out a hand to snap the price tag off, tossing it into the empty front seat. “There, oh you have to keep it, it looks perfect on you.”

The blonde smoothed a hand down her somewhat exposed stomach, wishing she were thinner or more toned. “Sure. Thanks, Veronica.”

“You’re quite welcome, darling. Nothing bores friendship quicker than the sharing of clothes and gossiping over boys. So one down, one to go.”

Betty couldn’t help the smile blooming across her face at Veronica’s words. She could use a friend. L.A. had been a lonely place the past two years, which did nothing to help her anxiety.

“Of course, I’m looking forward to it. We’ll be spending a lot of time together after all.”

The other girl smiled back, tucking glossy black hair behind her ear. “Indeed, we might as well make the best of it.” she paused, checking the fancy was fastened around her delicate wrist. “We are incredibly late now, darling. We had better hurry along before Toni sinks her teeth into us.”

Betty nodded, climbing out the car door as gracefully as she could with shaking hands. Veronica had saddled up to her side, linking their arms together as they walked. Feeling a burst of adoration for the girl Betty felt she had wrongly judged in the past (she grew up watching Disney channel, after all) she vowed not to judge any of the other actors based on the same principle.

The ease of being by Veronica’s side made her nerves calm until they were in front of the appropriate conference room door. A wicked smirk graced the raven-haired girl’s features and she disentangled their arms. A dainty platform heeled foot kicked the door in with surprising force for such a small girl.

It had Betty stepping back, hiding away from the doorframe a ways, eyes darting around the room and taking in the scene. It looks like they had already started the read through, and the ball of nerves in her stomach started to grow again.

She did not think it would ever leave her.

tbc.

note: Title comes from Shakespeare’s Henry V: “You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate. There is more eloquence in a sweet touch of them than in the tongues of the whole French council.” Chapter title comes from Mr. Jones by Counting Crows.

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #otp: bathed in sunlight; drenched in shadows #character: jughead jones #character: betty cooper #pairing: jughead x betty #tv: riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #in this tag resides fanfiction #♔: victrix #stark writes #series: roseblood #a song of smol bean and tol bean #series: famous bughead #*

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seanpatricklittlewriter · 4 years ago

Text

The Final Blog Post of 2020

Greetings, friends. It has been a while.

I think, as it has been for so many of us, 2020 is going down as a year where I accomplished pretty much nothing.I had big things planned for 2020, as I am sure a lot of you did, and they just… did not happen. Most of the downhill slide started in March, when I accepted a third-shift job. My body did not respond well to working third shift, and it sapped me of just about any will do to anything. I spent my days asleep, and my nights hovering through a weird twilight state where I was awake and doing things, but I was not happy about it. On my days off, I could barely function, and I started getting little fits of narcolepsy. After a doctor’s appointment, I mentioned these issues, and the doctor told me that someone who has the sort of thyroid and metabolic conditions that I have should not work third shift because it throws my whole system into whack.

So, I’m looking for a new job, a better job (hopefully), and something that I actually look forward to doing. If nothing else, I’ve learned that money isn’t as important as actually enjoying your work.But, with this job, and the pandemic, of course, all my routines were knocked out and I have been struggling to figure out a new routine. I used to be able to write at home back when I lived in rented apartments. Since I bought a home, I’ve found it difficult. There is always something around the house that needs doing. I found a refuge at my local Culver’s restaurant. I’d go in, get a diet Mt. Dew to drink, and kick over 3-5 hours in my favorite booth grinding out pages. Now, with that not exactly being a favorable option, my writing output has decreased to almost nothing. A sentence here. Maybe a page or two, if I was lucky. The inability to generate a solid routine has made the story harder to solidify in my mind. So, it’s been a rough year is what I’m saying.

I’m still kicking, though.

As is traditional, I like to list a few things that I found that brought me some joy this year and share them with you, as maybe you might like them, too.

Movies:

--I have not watched a ton of movies this year. The last movie I saw in a theater was “1917,” which I enjoyed greatly. It was an excellent WWI film, and the fact that they made it look like it was done in a single take was a masterstroke. It was beautifully filmed, and almost every frame could be a painting. Well worth the time.

I also just watched “Soul” on Disney+. There was a lot reminiscent of “Inside Out” in “Soul,” but “Soul” was a much quieter, more existential film. I liked it a lot, but it wasn’t one of Pixar’s best outings.

I watched George Clooney’s “The Midnight Sky” the other day. It was a long, dreadfully slow, and ultimately pointless film. I did not care for it. Most of the other films I’ve watched this year were fairly forgettable.

They were titles on streaming services that have been out a few years, but never generated a lot of noise.

Television:

I watched a ton of television this year. What the hell else was I going to do, right? I’m sure most of you are in the same boat. Anyhow, I have long believed that TV has become superior to films in the last few years. Better characters, better stories, and the time to tell those stories. I prefer episodic television to just about anything film has given us in the past few years, so here’s what I was watching this year.

--“19-2” (purchase four season on Amazon Prime): If you’ve watched “Letterkenny” on Hulu, then you must be familiar with Jared Keeso, who plays the central character Wayne. Keeso won some awards for a Canadian cop drama called “19-2” before he made “Letterkenny,” and I can understand why. This is a fairly dark, but realistic cop drama about the 19th Precinct in Montreal, Quebec, Canada, and deals with the new guy (Keeso) transferring into the precinct from a small town and dealing with his new partner (Adrian Holmes) and the rest of the flawed members of the station in addition to dealing with policing duties around the city. One thing I liked about the series is that it never got away from the day-to-day grind of policing in a big city. The characters’ story arcs had to be worked in around the calls and patrols. The first episode of the second season of “19-2” deals with the precinct responding to a school shooting. It is, by far, one of the finest hours of television I’ve ever seen. Chaotic and hurried, brutal and bloody. It’s everything that keeps your eyes glued to the set. There were only 38 episodes of “19-2,” but I could have watched another four seasons of it. It supplanted “The Shield” as my favorite cop drama. Well worth the time.

--“The Queen’s Gambit” (Netflix): I’m not going to add anything original to this that hasn’t already been written by other people. This highly lauded limited series was well-written and acted, and it actually made competitive chess interesting. Anna Taylor-Joy was excellent in the lead role, and the costumes and sets were fantastic.

--“The Uncanny Counter” (Netflix): My mother watches an insane amount of South Korean TV shows. I don’t know why. She is the butt of many jokes because of this. However, “The Uncanny Counter” is a pretty cool series that feels like an indie comic book. The premise is a group of Grim Reapers run a noodle shop and fight demons. However, the show is much more complex than that. The characters’ stories are all intertwined in odd ways, and it’s very watchable.

--“Hospital Playlist” (Netflix): Another show my mother suggested was the sappy, and almost twee hospital show “Hospital Playlist.” This show is a fairly soft, airy, and cute little hospital drama about five doctors who have been friends since medical school. They’re all heads of their respective departments now, and they work at the Yulje Medical Center. While the show centers around the five main characters, there’s a whole slate of other doctors and interns who add to the story. Inevitably, the show is about life, love, and death—like any other hospital drama. However, the core group of friends also get together once a week and play music to relax, so there is a cutesy pop song at the end of the episodes that plays into a montage of that week’s story wrapping up. The characters in the show are very likeable, and that’s about the best thing this show has going for it. Each episode is like 90 minutes, and there are 12 episodes in the first season, but I watched them all, and I hate to admit it, but I’m interested in seeing what season 2 will bring.

--“Upload” (Amazon Prime): Greg Daniels of “The Office” fame created and produced this series about the Singularity, a hypothetical point in the future when we will be able to merge our consciousness with a computer, and thus physical death will mean we have a chance to live a digital afterlife where we can still interact with our loved ones on the earthly plane through VR. The show is funny and extremely intelligent. It’s satire and commentary wrapped up in a solid existential premise.

--“Star Trek: Discovery” season 3 (CBS All Access): I’m not going to write a ton about ST:Disco, but I will say that season 3 is the first season that felt like “Star Trek” to me. It’s one of the few shows that I have actually looked forward to week-to-week.

--“The Mandalorian” season 2 (Disney+): Like ST:Disco, this is one of the few shows I actually looked forward to. The first couple of episodes felt like the series was in a bit of a rut, but the last three episodes made it all worthwhile. Total fanboy moments abounded.

--“Ted Lasso” (Apple+TV): Strangely enough, a sitcom based on a single-premise joke from a series of Superbowl ads from a couple years ago is, hands-down, my favorite new show of 2020. Jason Sudeikis of SNL fame plays Ted Lasso, the former head coach of the Wichita Shockers college football team who is hired to be the head coach of FC Richmond, a Premier League Football team in England. Initially Ted is hired by the new owner of Richmond, who happened to have won the team from her ex-husband in a messy divorce. Her initial goal is to have Ted unknowingly destroy the team, but Ted’s boundless optimism and true concern and care for his players flips the script. This is the show that 2020 needed. It is funny and joyous, and it’s another feather in Bill Lawrence’s (Scrubs, Spin City, etc…) cap. I watched this show out of a sense of loyalty to Bill Lawrence, but I ended up LOVING it. The fact that Apple renewed “Ted Lasso” for two more seasons immediately is very telling about how good this show was. Highly, highly recommend.

Music:

I barely listened to anything new this year. Not many bands I liked came out with a new record, and I was usually listening to podcasts or watching TV instead. However, there were two albums that came out year that I would note.

--Kyle Kinane, “Trampoline in a Ditch”: Kinane’s newest stand-up album, recorded in Madison, Wis., is a fun jaunt through Kinane’s weird sense of humor and excellent writing style. This record had me and my daughter laughing out loud on the day it came out, and I’ve listened to it several times since. Kinane’s writing is so good, I pick up subtle jokes on additional listenings.

--Brett Newski, “Don’t Let the Bastards Get You Down”: Milwaukee Dork Rocker Newski put out another solid album this year. Check out the video for “Wha’d Ya Got to Lose?”

Podcasts:

Spent a ton of time listening to podcasts at my third shift job. I’m not going to write a ton about them individually, but here’s the list of the podcasts that got the most listens from me:

--Gilbert Gottfried’s Amazing, Colossal Podcast --Fake Doctors, Real Friends --Timesuck --Scared to Death --Office Ladies --Unexplained --Lore --Cabinet of Curiosities --Haunted Locations

Books:

I probably read the fewest books I’ve read in ages this year. I’m usually good for 20-40 books a year, and this year—I just did not get there. I maybe read 12 books this year, and that bothers me. I just could not focus on reading. However, much of what I did read, I enjoyed. The best of those are as follows: --Craig Johnson, “Next to Last Stand” --CJ Box, “Winterkill” --Joe Ide, “IQ” --Sebastien de Castell, “Crownbreaker” --Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child, “Crooked River” Anyhow, I hope some of those media suggestions will bring you some joy. We sure could all use some in 2021, no doubt. In the meantime, do continue to stay safe and healthy. Take precautions. Don’t throw caution to the wind. My plans for 2021: --Lose weight (as usual) --Finish the second Abe & Duff novel --Maybe finish another of the several novels on my desktop --Get a job I don’t hate --Make it to 2022 Here’s to hoping I have some good news about Abe & Duff in 2021. Thanks for reading, and Happy New Year. --Sean

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