#... another opportunity has surfaced with better pay that i will apply for instead

[nyebevans]

a bit sad because i interviewed for a job today, and it just really did not feel like it would be a good fit for me, so even if they were to offer it to me, i think i'll have to turn it down

[donutloverxo]

Spoiled

Kinktober day 5 - Mirror sex

*gif is not mine*

Note - this is a bit of a rushed job. Because while I like August I didn't want to end the year on him lol. It has to be our husband. Thank you so so much for all the support and love all of you have shown me this past year, it's serves as a great motivation for me. I have a resolution of writing 200k in the next year so hopefully there's a lot more hoeness and happiness this coming year for us all. Love y'all❤

This is the last part and sequel to past self and messed up. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

Warnings - 18+ only, Smut (m/f), daddy kink, light anal play, hints to threesomes, jealous Steve, cum play, rough sex, general nastiness.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2k

“I am so tired. I mean time travelling is fun and all but sooo exhausting,” you mumbled into the pillow as you laid face flat on your bed. The soft plush mattress providing some much needed comfort to your sore muscles.

After the snap both you and Steve had moved into a brownstone in Brooklyn, it was much smaller than your quarters in the compound but you never really liked having that much of a distance from him anyway.

Even if you weren’t doing anything, you’d prefer to do nothing with him. Just lounging around on like a couple of couch potatoes.

It was hard for him to not have much to do. With half the world gone and the Avengers broken up he spent most of his days volunteering and leading therapy groups. Telling others to move on, that’s what their loved ones would want for them, while not being able to do so himself. Blaming himself for everything that had happened.

He told you that having all that free time made his mind go to dark places, thinking of his past, of all the lives that he wasn’t able to save. And after years of denying that he needed any, he decided to go to therapy.

They were a tough few years. But everything was fine now. As fine as it could be. His friends were back, you joked about how Bucky and Tony had matching cyborg arms now, he laughed at that but they didn’t. There was still plenty of hostility there, he didn’t exactly expect them to become ‘bffs', as you’d called it, hopefully they’d learn to get along.

He unzipped your boots, pulling them off and massaging your feet, listening to you babble nonsense about all your theories about time travel.

He always called you his sunshine. It was an apt petname for you, you brought light into his life, you were his light at the end of the tunnel. After years of being alone, it was as if he was waiting for you all along.

While you had your share of breakdowns during those five years, lots of fights with him because you wanted to move on and not be stuck in the past. He agreed with you, he didn’t want to be stuck, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t give up on those he loved.

You were always there for him. His only solace during those dark times.

He had changed a lot, when he met you he was still the Captain, then he was on the run, living in shady motels and not knowing who the fuck he was.

He became a bit more melancholic after the snap, the whole world did, a lot needier for you and your attention and love. Because he was so grateful you weren’t gone.

If you had... he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

He knew it annoyed you because even though you loved him, that he didn’t doubt one bit, you also liked your independence. But he’ll always need you way more than you need him.

“Sunshine?” he called for your attention, his hands now moving up to your calves, applying just the little bit of pressure.

You giggled, looking over your shoulder to him as you felt your face heat up, “I swear, Steve, you’re so cheesy.”

“Do you...” he cleared his throat and then shook his head, it was stupid of him to even think something like that much less verbally express it to you.

You turned around, laying flat on your back, “What?”

“It’s silly,” he pressed his lips in a thin line.

“I don’t care, you still have to tell me. Come on,” you lightly kicked your legs which were on his lap.

“Do you ever wish... you were with someone closer to your age.”

He couldn’t look at you, even after all these years of being together he couldn’t be completely vulnerable--a life of rejection making him anticipate the worst.

“Why would you say that?” you sat up, cupping his cheek with your hand.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

It wasn’t just that you were younger, almost everyone was younger compared to him, but you had a young soul that would never grow old.

And he... he was no fun sometimes, how long would it take for you to grow tired of him. Did just you like the thrill of being on the run? When he was more edgier and rougher than he is now.

“I could never even imagine being with anyone but you,” you assured him.

He scoffed, “Didn’t seem like that when you were with him.”

“Oh, you mean ‘you'?” you cocked your head to the side, feigning innocence.

You knew how jealous your fawning over his past self’s beard had made him. To be honest, you would lose your shit if he acted that way towards any other woman, even if said woman was a version of you.

He shook his head, “Forget I said anything.”

“Wait,” you cupped his cheek, making him look at you, “You’re so jelly and needy sometimes, daddy.”

He bit the inside of his as you knelt on the floor before him, parting his legs, your hands fumbling with his belt but he stopped you by holding onto your wrists.

“We should get cleaned up...” he half heartedly tried to stop you but you managed to pull all his straps open and take his hardening erection out of his pants.

“We probably should...” you hummed, “But I guess I need to show daddy how much I love him,” peaking out your tongue to circle his leaking tip.

“I know you love me, sweetheart, but I just worry sometimes if I’m too old fashioned for you?” he wondered, letting out a shuddering moan as you took him in your mouth, looking up at him with your wide innocent eyes--always so full of life.

You swallowed around him, moaning at the familiar taste and scent of him, taking him deeper till he hit the back of your throat.

Steve being old fashioned did bother you a little at times. Not the part where he was an absolute gentleman, always holding the door open for you, paying for your dates. But where he always wanted to be the one protecting you. Taking care of you. Which was good, but he needs some loving too.

“Swallow it all, honey,” he instructed as he held your head down, his spend coating the back of your throat as you followed his command like a good girl.

Opening your mouth and holding out your tongue, “I did it, daddy,” you proclaimed proudly.

He prodded at your mouth with his fingers, under your tongue, to make sure that you got all of it, “Good girl,” he smiled as you suckled on his fingers, “you always need to have your mouth stuffed, honey, don’t you?”

You only nodded, letting out a pathetic whine when he pulled his fingers out with a loud pop.

“Let’s go shower, honey,” he said but then frowned when you shook your head.

“Are you done already? That’s it?” Don't say it, don’t... “Got another one in ya?”

You knew you were digging your own grave, of Steve wanted you he could literally fuck you for days, you had tried to ‘test' that on your honeymoon. To see who would give out first, your poor pussy or his unyielding supersoldier stamina.

Obviously he won and you were never able to complete your little experiment.

He gave you a fake sweet smile, dripping with--so much malice which was so not Steve. Gripping your hair he yanked you back to bare your neck to him, his other hand tracing your pulse point before wrapping around your neck, applying the slightest bit of pressure - because you were precious, he’d never want to actually hurt you, “I was going to make love to you in the shower, sweetheart.” he squeezed tighter as you choked, wrapping your tiny hands around his wrist, “But then you had to go and say that. What should we do with you?” he mused.

“Fuck me?” you sassed, while making love sounded nice, you would much rather have a good dicking down.

“No, you have to learn your lesson, honey. I maybe older but it only makes me better. I’ll have to show you I guess,” he tutted.

Hauling you up, with his hands under your arms, he manhandled you till you both stood before the dressing mirror you had gotten a few months ago, pressing your cheek against its cool surface as he worked on the seams of your cat suit.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he confessed, ever since you had bought the large mirror, he liked to watch you as he took you apart in it, sometimes making you look, somehow that seemed to suck all your sass and feistiness and you’d just turn into a shy flustered mess in his arms, refusing to look at the mirror or at him.

Which would only fuel his lust, because he still had the ability to surprise you, even after he’d seen all of you. Felt all of your caverns, and you, intimately and knew them like the back of his hand.

“Never really got the opportunity to, now’s good a time as any, wouldn’t you agree?” he nibbled at the shell of your ear, smirking as you weakly nodded.

“You’re so good at doing what you’re told.” He pressed a kiss to your hair, kneeling behind you to rid you of your tight pants before burying his head between your legs.

Nudging your intimate lips apart with the lip of his tongue, “You’re already soaked, honey,” he observed, licking his lips to savor your taste before prodding at your second hole with his tongue, just so he could hear you gasp.

“Steve!” you exclaimed, not expecting that. While Steve was more of an ass man, he never wanted to fuck you or even touch you there. But after a lot of course convincing from your side he had to give in.

He bit the flesh of your buttocks before speaking against it, “Since you like having all your holes stuffed, maybe I should call Bucky to help me out sometime...”

“Really?!” you perked up, looking down at him over your shoulder.

He didn’t give you an answer, instead fucking you with his tongue tillyou were quivering around him, crying out loud, as the mirror fogged up.

“Bucky’s nice...” you mumbled incoherently as he rose to his feet, his nails digging into your hips as he picked you up till you were standing on your top toes to meet his height. Sheathing his hard length inside you in one firm thrusts as he stayed still to let you get used to him.

“Hm. Am I not nice?” you saw him frown behind in his reflection, “I buy you whatever you want. Give you whatever you want, don’t I? Apparently it’s not enough for you. You’re getting too spoiled, I need to start saying no,” he drove each word home with hard thrusts, his tip kissing your cervix, his warm breath brushing the back of your neck.

“NOOO,” you whined, tears streaming down your face at such an outrageous prospect. Steve never said no to you. Not even when you literally asked for a threesome with his past self. “I was saying...” You tried to say but moaned as he pinched your clit, trying to jerk away from him but his firm hold on you made it impossible. “That he’s nice...” you panted, “Slow down, please!”

He hummed to make a show of thinking about it but then fastened his pace, twisting your clit between his fingers as he watched your face in the mirror.

“No.”

“He’s nice.... but he’s not you,” you wailed, clenching around him as your climax washed over you.

He had to hold onto your waist, so you wouldn’t collapse on your shaky leg, he smiled, “That’s very touching, doll.” He said.

“’is the truth.”

“I wouldn’t mind sharing it with Bucky though. He knows you’re mine.” Unlike a certain someone who was dumb enough to think he had any claim on you, “Can you hold for me?” he asked as you nodded.

Planting your hands against the mirror you braced yourself as he fucked you from behind, filling you up to the brim with his warmth.

“Okay then. You wouldn’t find me kicking him out of my bed...” you giggled.

[eunsthings]

Museums

Part 2 l Again?

Genre: fluff🥰, slow burn i guess

(Reader is a veterinary student on more or less her final year of vet school who has a part time job in editing and is kinda smol and socially awkward)

Pairing: Tsukishima x fem!reader (post timeskip)

Word count: 2.2k

Here’s Part 1  II Series masterlist II Part 3

You have been offered a big project and now the odds are really testing you... 

[friend] = a friend’s name

The content of the sent email—along with other details—stated that if you were willing, to email them back and go to the Sendai City Museum whenever you were free this week. Sitting on your bottom bunk-bed, checking your schedule, you see that you were available on the 7th of September; a Friday afternoon. You email them and confirm that you were going.

A few days had passed and it was now Friday. You were having lunch with [friend]—a close friend of yours—in a café outside your campus. After your lunch, you were going to head to the museum.

“You know, you should have just texted me.”

“What?” [friend] stops and looks up at you, pausing from eating, an innocent expression plastered on her face.

“You where the reason my phone almost got destroyed,” you deadpanned.

Your friend stares with a blank face… then bursts out laughing. “I’m so sorry—” she says, almost choking on food from laughing, “I—hahaha!” still snickering trying to speak in between gulps of air, “Oh, man. I really am sorry; it’s just that… what kind of luck do you have? A nosebleed because of a phone call?” It went on like this for some time.

“Oh by the way, are you going on the school trip?” your friend asks.

“When was that again?” you face her.

“Uhhhhh, the last week of September I think…”

“Oh, yeah, right. I don’t really know… going on a trip with people I barely know for a whole week is kind of draining,”you softly replied; pondering.

“But like—oh no! It’s almost time for your meet-up,” [friend] tells you; cutting her sentence short, both of you got lost in the euphoria of chatting with one another.

“Oh yeah, no, I have to go, I’m so sorry. Byeee~” you reply in a jumble standing up and bringing your bag with you.

“Wait,” your friend stands up with you, “I’m going with you,” She left no space for refusal as she picks up the scarf you almost left and hands it to you.

“Wow, ok,” you thought to yourself as you see the museum building in front of you. It was a very nice modern-looking building.

 With your friend beside you, you enter its doors.

Inside, it had many things on display–mostly about the history of Sendai and samurais as well as a certain “Date” family. Both of you try looking for the office and almost ended up lost before you were able to look for a person to ask; it was weirdly devoid of people.

Reaching the office, an assistant, you had guessed, told you to make yourself comfortable while waiting. You did as you were told. Both you and [friend] were seated in a big open space with displays all around. This area was frequently passed by tourists, you can tell by the layout of the space.

Your friend was looking at displays around the huge space and you were scrolling through your phone when a man appeared around a corner.

You barely glance up when you look back down to your phone. “Wait a second,” you look back up again, bewilderment rising. He was holding a pen and notebook in his hands, “Oh no,” by now, memories of your “faceplant incident” had surfaced. You were silently staring as he passed–the blond man who handed you a handkerchief. “What in the world!? Was he here to take notes for research or something?” he turned to the side almost disappearing around another corner when you made eye contact.

He momentarily paused, fixing his glasses ; probably confused—“He had glasses on… did he have glasses last time?”—when another voice sounded from the end of the hall he was in. Someone probably called him. He then broke eye contact and vanished behind a wall.

You were still dumbfounded, staring at the wall in front of you trying to process what just happened. “What are the odds of that huh?” you had chuckled at yourself. “Who was that?” your friend had come down to sit beside you.

“Ugh. Remember when I told you about how my phone almost broke?”

“Yeah, you faceplanted on the sidewalk.”

“That guy was there to witness it and kinda helped me,” [friend] burst out laughing again after your statement.

“What are the odds of that happening!” she now had tears in her eyes from laughing, “Is it embarrassing? HAHAHA. It’s ok… it’s ok,” by now she was smacking her leg and doubling over.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, stop laughing at me~” you were shaking her trying to make her stop. You can’t handle any more shame.

“Ok, ok. But he was just probably here for his studies you know, so that’s over now, at least you didn’t have to talk to him.”

“Yeah, ‘at least.’”

The assistant had come back for you, telling you to follow them to the office. Your friend had only offered a thumbs-up as you left her in the hall.

You enter what you guess to be an office. A middle-aged man sat behind a desk in the room and gestured for you to take a seat; a chair in front of his table. He introduced himself as a Mister Yasuhiro, the director for the museum. He discussed the reason for calling you; they’d have a big charity event to be held in the museum on the first week of October; so that leaves about a month of preparation time. They needed animators to make the motion picture to be played in a loop all around the exhibits---for overall effect. He smiles warmly at you.

“Y/N, I know you’re a very talented artist,” he stated, “We’d really like to have you on-board for this project although I know you have school. You have top marks so I don’t think that it will be a problem considering you’ve been doing this for a long time now,” he was right, you never really had a problem in school, just times when you have off weeks or think you failed but still keep pulling though up top, “Although of course you’ll have one other animator with you to help share the load,” Yasuhiro continues.

You were thinking and something seems off to you, “Um—Sir, I’m really thankful for the opportunity you’ve given me but… why me? There are better professional animators out there… which, compared to me—” he cuts you off, “You see, we are also tasked to showcase the talents of young individuals and why not apply that to everything else?” You couldn’t reply anything else but a soft “oh”.

“We’d love to have you but I’d really have to ask if you’d be okay taking on this project on short notice,” Yasuhiro makes you consider the offer. “If you’re really fine having me help, then I’d be very much more than willing to,” a soft sort of calm determination escapes you—this was a very big chance after all. The middle-aged man lit up in joy and thanked you.

 He seemed friendlier in contrast to others with the same position as he; much more now when he was clapping softly. You had noticed he was a cheerful man.

After you accepted their job, he discusses to you about the amount they’ll be paying you; and man were you happy you took the offer. Yasuhiro then proceeded to talk about what you’ll be doing in a general sense, “Oh and don’t worry about the content, you’ll have someone as a partner from the museum to help you with it.”

“That would really be great! Thank you!” You replied.

The director then proceeded to call his assistant, “Could you bring him in now?” Your brain glitches a bit, “him”? "A boy!? Nah, it’s just probably someone he’s got business with,” a short internal monologue played in your head.

You hear the door squeak open behind you and then come to a close. You were still facing the director, “This fellow will be helping you with the content of your animation, he’s currently an intern here,” you slowly turn around trying to face the alleged intern hoping to see a new face. Instead, you were met with a tall, blond and uninterested-faced person; glasses in front of his golden-brown irises. “Your partner for the project, Tsukishima Kei,” Yasuhiro announces from his desk.

Looking down for the first time since he entered, the guy named “Tsukishima” only blinked in response to what seems to be his own  shock and confusion.

Unable to meet his gaze, you turn back around to face the director just gawking at him with slightly squinted eyes and a stupid expression displayed; unable to form words. “What are the odds?”

Mister Yasuhiro—having been facing you—asked, “Is something the matter?” he trailed off awkwardly.

“No,” you replied in unison.

 “Oh?” the director was now joined in both your confusion.

 “It’s fine, we just happened to bump into each other a while back. We’re just surprised,” Kei explained in his drawly voice as if nothing happened.

 “Oh! Well that’s good then. You’re already acquainted so that’s step one done,” the director clapped his hands together in joy. “So that’s that. Kei will be showing you around the museum later. He’ll coordinate your schedules and disclose to you everything else that I missed,” the director smirked and sat up from his chair, “You can meet with the other duo the next time you come here. Good luck to you both.”

 You found yourself in a hall outside of the office. A tall man beside you. Silence heavy in the air.

“So…” the beanpole spoke, “What’s your name?” both of you facing the same end of the hallway.

“I—uh. L/N F/N. Nice to meet you,” a straightforward reply, still refusing to look at each other.

“Yeah, nice to meet you too… for the third time.” The awkwardness was killing you.

“Yeahhh—about the first time… I never got to thank you for helping me…” you soften to a whisper, “and your handkerchief is ruined—I’ll just replace it.”

“Tch. There’s no need for that,” he looks at the bunch of paper in his hands, “Anyway~” he starts walking, “I have to show you around the museum.”

 You follow behind him and later he stops abruptly. You are now in the big hall you were waiting in earlier. He hands you a sheet of paper, “Here’s the initial schedule. We’ll alter that to accommodate your own next time. Hold on to it for now,” He then looks around the room, “Weren’t you accompanied by someone else?” Realization dawns on you, yes, you were accompanied by F/N. Where is she now? You check your phone.

“Ah. She had forgotten to submit a term paper,” Tsukishima’s only response was a shrug and a slight pout, “Well then, let’s proceed.”

Touring around the city museum took a long while, your amazingly weak ankles decided to act up but in the end, you finished going around the displays in the building. He showed you where they were planning to put the main event as well as where all the side gimmicks would be. Accounting it all, it would kind of be an immersive event wherein wherever you go in the museum, you’d be greeted by animations and displays. 

Both of you finished your tour at the main entrance balcony outside; it was already late in the afternoon. He paused beside you and turned to face you. You look to your side and see him fumbling around his pockets.

“Uh— w-what are you doing?” you asked meekly.

He raised his head to the ceiling and let out an exasperated sigh, “I was supposed to give you your museum pass. But I forgot that the ones meant for you and the other guy haven’t been modified yet—don’t ask.”

“Well that’s fine I guess, I can always just ask permission.”

“No, that makes a lot of hassle for everyone,” he interjects too quickly for your liking, but then he follows softly, “plus not everyone is always present here to let you in… that and the varying schedules clash.”

You felt thankful for his kinder follow-up, “Oh. So what now?”

“About the schedule, I think we need to exchange contacts.” And so you both did.

You gave him your phone number as well as your messenger account (in case). He then entered his phone number in your phone.

“Huh, I guess your phone’s okay now,” he handed it back.

“Really!? He had to bring it up,” you half-scream internally.

“And about the pass…” he placed everything he was holding in one hand and removed the ID dangling from his neck, “here,” he was holding it out to you.

You held your hands up, “But that- that’s yours—”he didn’t let you finish your sentence, “I can’t have you coming and going without a pass, so here, I won’t always be here to babysit you” he slipped it on your head, “Your pass later on will look somewhat like that. Don’t worry, I have an extra one at home, just don’t lose that. We’ll trade later.” Your face began to heat up, “What the heck!!”

"Until next time then Y/N."

He walked back to the doors but before he entered, he held the handle and looked back at you, “Expect me to contact you sometime between tomorrow and the next day, try not to ignore it,” with that, he goes inside leaving you in front of the stairs in the late afternoon glow. 

Part 1 II Series masterlist II Part 3

Notes:

We use messenger because why not... (It’s actually because in my country we use messenger a lot and so yeah...)

I wish you enjoyed (0.0)

[deralpi]

Most of the conversations after the most recent episode covered either the ingenuity of Jester’s masterful deceit or Beau’s decision to sacrifice her new-found happiness to lift the misery constraining their friend. Because Beau is my favorite character, I feel obligated to give my opinion on the latter in an unapologetically unstructured manner.

In my eyes, Beau is an uncompromisingly selfless character who denies it with every word she utters. In that aspect, I always draw internally the connection to Nynaeve, a character of the Wheel-of-Time book series, where one can observe a stark discrepancy between what she says and thinks in comparison to what actions she actually takes. 

Very early one, during the Lorenzo arc, she had already been ready to lay down her life to protect the Nein and this conviction hasn’t wavered since. When Fjord was surrounded and harassed by the Laughing Hand and Yasha, the odds were stacked high against his survival. If one worked out the percentages, the much safer option would’ve been to leave right then and there; it had been much more likely that their losses would’ve been added up to two, instead of reduced to zero if somebody went to aid. But who stormed in regardless? The self-proclaimed egoist.

But why do I unravel all this now? Because that moment had confirmed for me what I had observed before: Beau would do everything to save her friends.

So when Beau entered the hut the offer she presented was no surprise to me. If anything I had always expected her to go down like that; by doing something profoundly selfless. The manner in which it had nearly happened, however, I never could’ve imagined predicting. 

But it wasn’t just the desire to help Nott so she could live her life again; it was also about the inevitable end (hah) of the future of their little adventuring party. Their common list of objectives is slowly dwindling. For the first time — after being flung from the Empire to the coast to Xhorhas and then to the Empire again, diving into adventure after adventure — an end is in sight. Traveler Con seems to be their last destination on their agenda, but even if it isn’t, their days as an adventuring party are numbered, because this, regardless of how lovely their time together had been, wouldn’t hold up forever. People would want to settle down at some point, to tread diverging paths and build a life for themselves. They would still be friends, of course, but they wouldn’t be around each other every day of the year. And who would be the odd one out and end up alone again? In Beau’s head there is a clear answer to that.

There are inevitable outcomes attached to every concern she harbors, and she has been noticing them for a while now, but purposely ignored them. It is the reason why she has been so critical of destiny in the past; the inevitability in it frightens her, and only recently (episode 92) she came to terms with it. Cut to the present and all the stars seemed to have aligned — Molly’s lessons, her connection to Nott through the Hag, the fact that she had the least to lose and everybody else too much to live for. Somebody had to pay a price, and if that is the case it might as well be her, because the patterns she noticed all led up to it.

I brought up the inevitability factor because it is deeply intertwined, in making the decision, with one of Beau’s core philosophies: all but an obsession to meet every encounter on her terms. She saw herself as an asshole and everyone else would come to see it too, so why not utilize her innate ability to cause dislike and take control of the situation. If we apply this to the relevant scenario with the inevitable separation of the group on the horizon, why wouldn’t she leave on her terms and save a friend while doing so? Quit while you are ahead because it won’t get any better.

And the things she was ready to sacrifice… To know that the hag feeds on misery is one thing, it is another to offer everything about her existence but her life. One of these offerings would’ve already at the very least provoked interest, but to lay it all on the line… It’s like overpaying for something vitally important in addition to the insurance that it would be done right. An offer so lucrative even a hag (lawful or not) wouldn’t dream to attempt foul play.

These factors I listed I consider highly influential in her decision making (making up around 90% if I had to put a number on it), but there is another matter I wanted to bring up: Jester. 

I think Beau has fallen quite hard for her and it is evident in her behavior that she seems out of her depth on how to handle it. From observations alone — the pining after Fjord, the attraction towards the Traveler, the unending doodles of dicks — it isn’t all too likely on a surface level that Beau’s feelings would ever be reciprocated. There are possible scenarios that would turn things around, but I don’t know if Beau sees those as mere fantasies at this point. 

One might scoff at the possibility that such a trivial matter, not at all pertaining to the circumstance at hand, factored into Beau’s decision making, and I’m not claiming that it did, I just want to address the possible influence it could’ve had. As it stands Beau could (!) feel to be on the receiving end of unreciprocated love, and we only have to look at real-life to see how hurtful that can end up being. Many in her position have decided to distance themselves from the one they loved, for though it hurt them tremendously it was the only place from where they could move on.

Ever since Jester had become her roommate and accepted her the way she was, their room had become Beau’s safe space where she didn’t have to feel alone anymore, but the moment Beau was smitten with her their intimate togetherness was tainted by the underlying awkward friction. What was comfortable became entirely uncomfortable. Now she feels trapped in the false dichotomy where she has to choose between ending up alone or getting her heart broken.

This would never be the sole point on which she decides to leave the group, but I think it isn’t too far stretched that amongst all the things I have previously listed this notion could have posed as an incentive to clasp hands with a hag.

But where does she go from here, now that her plan has been completely overthrown?

With no immediate threat on the horizon (*fingers crossed*) this time frame lends the perfect opportunity to give in to some soul-searching. So that the inevitability of the eventual separation doesn’t frighten her anymore she needs a perspective and a goal. When we first met her all she wanted were physical fights and money to spend on overpriced booze. This would have proven sufficient under the nihilistic outlook she had adopted the moment her only aspiration was shattered into a million pieces when her father’s hand found her cheek, but now she lives in an environment where she gets encouraged to open up and spread her wings and nihilism is a thing of the past. It is on her to recapture the brief glimmer of bright-eyed excitement she showed when she spoke about her version of taking over her father’s business, to find something substantial and lasting to strive for. 

Just imagine what Beau and Caleb could achieve as an unprecedented friendship between Assembly and Soul if this is something she would set out to do. It needn’t be such a lofty goal to attain meaning in her life, but the possibilities are as endless as her capabilities.

Aim high and reach for the stars, young lion.

I don’t know if I added anything significant by posting this but I had to get it out of my system. Thanks to everyone who read my word vomit to the end!

[7-wonders]

Lost In the Shadows

Summary: As a naturally curious person, the odd mannerisms of your elusive new boss pique your interest, making you determined to figure out who, or what, he is.

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: It’s a vampire Michael fic! I really hope you guys enjoy; feedback is always appreciated, and if you loved this I would love if you’d give it a like, comment, and reblog. Enjoy!

There’s something strange about your new boss.

Being one of the longest-tenured employees at Kineros Robotics, having worked in the R & D department for a whopping three months, you were initially relieved when Ms. Venable had told you about the sudden arrival of a new owner. You loved your work, and could think of no better job than getting to conduct experiments on new technologies to help paraplegics and researching artificial neuron studies, but the two men that hired you made it really hard to not think about quitting at least three times a day. Jeff and Mutt, the two coked-out oddballs who somehow managed to co-found a Fortune 500 company, had annoyed or harassed nearly every employee of theirs to the point of quitting within their first three months of work. You’re an anomaly, and if the pay and benefits weren’t so good, as well as the research opportunities, you would have long been out the door with the same people that you were hired with.

The announcement of a new owner was initially a welcome change to the company’s personnel. Maybe this owner would be able to put Jeff and Mutt into their places, and make them realize how to conduct themselves as the founders of such a prestigious company. Hell, maybe the new owner would even allocate some new funds to your R & D department so that you can finally purchase the new, state-of-the art projector that would allow you to create lifesize, 3-D, virtual models of your various research projects that you’ve had your eye on for a month now. Even Ms. Venable, the always stoic secretary whose only emotions seem to be apathy or disdain, manages to crack a small smile when she tells you the news. The long-gossiped about arrival of a new boss seems to be just the thing that will help boost employee morale and allow you to actually get some work done instead of having Jeff and Mutt pester you to see if you can build them a realistic sex robot (a request that you’ve denied multiple times).

Things seem like they’ll be great, and for the most part, they are. Jeff and Mutt hardly cause distractions for you now, and they approve almost any budget request you put on their desks. However, the constant look of fear that caused their eyes to dilate and widen, combined with the welcome lack of cocaine in the building, had you questioning what has gotten into the pair. Employee retention has never been higher, but so many of the newer employees walk around in a dazed stupor, only answering you if you snap your fingers in front of their faces or repeat their names. The common factor in all of this is, of course, your boss; the only question is, who the hell is your boss?

For such a dramatic change in the productivity of Kineros, you’re expecting a much larger authoritative presence than what you’ve seen. Indeed, this new boss is extremely elusive and never in the office. What’s striking to you is that there was never any official memo. No note, no email, not even Ms. Venable was able to gossip about who this boss was, simply for the fact that she couldn’t find out any information. Luckily, you’ve managed to become acquaintances with many of your coworkers, something the purple-clad secretary has never been able to accomplish. The details, while scarce, are enough to form a vague image in your head.

According to the dazed employees whom you now work alongside, the boss is a man called Langdon. No word on whether it’s his first or last name, because apparently he’s so intimidating that any question a person may have flees their mind at the sight of him. In fact, people forget most aspects of their encounters with Langdon, thanks to two possible reasons. The first is, of course, that he’s just so damn frightening that everyone’s brains develop some sort of short-term memory amnesia in an attempt to forget about what they just saw. The second which, from general consensus seems to be the more plausible, is that his beauty is so blinding that it’s impossible to remember what the conversation was about when one is staring at “those cheekbones!” Kineros has always seemed to have shallow assumptions and vapid materialism woven into its very core, so it’s not too surprising to hear that everyone is so dazed because they’ve got the hots for Langdon.

Langdon, it would seem, is the only topic that employees know how to talk about lately. Frankly, you’re sick of it. You don’t really care who the boss is, what he looks like, or where he is that’s so much more important than the business he now runs, so long as the company’s running and your paychecks are being deposited into your bank account on a regular basis. If he really wanted to make sure that Kineros was running smoothly, he would show his face around the office more in order to quell the rumors and prevent you from having to stop disoriented coworkers from applying two sources of the same charge and nearly blowing up the labs for the third time in a week.

It’s late on a Friday, which means that nobody, save the janitor and security guards, is in the building. While everyone else employed here bolted for the doors the second the clock hit five, you were just getting started with your more-important research. You like working when it’s blissfully quiet and you can move around while you think, pacing back and forth as you run over calculations or decide which millimeter difference would help your machine to work more efficiently. Lately, you’ve often found yourself in the labs until the security team has to ask you to leave so that they can finish their rounds. With all of the commotion over Langdon’s appointment, it’s been difficult to get much work done during a traditional work day.

You’re sitting at your desk, random pieces of paper cluttering the workspace around you as you attempt to work out the schematics for a new prosthetic hand you’re designing that would be controlled by a patient’s brain, when the sound of shoes clicking across the shiny floor has your pencil stopping in its tracks. It’s a foreign noise, especially at this time of the evening; both the custodial and security staff wear heavy boots, the footsteps of which you could recognize from a floor away. These are different--lighter, yet confident. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up before the door to the lab opens, and you tense before taking a precautionary sip of tea and slowly turning around.

The tea was a bad decision, causing you to nearly choke as you lock eyes with your unexpected visitor. You’re sure that you’ve never met before; surely you would remember someone as ethereal as this man? His face looks like it was crafted by the most renowned Renaissance sculptors themselves, all sharp angles and delicate features. His blonde hair flows to just past his shoulders, and his cold blue eyes (accented with a dark red eye shadow that’s perfectly applied to the inner corners) watch you with an intensity that makes you shiver. He’s dressed in all black, a stark contrast to the white decor of Kineros. A silk scarf hangs loosely around his neck, ornate rings decorating his slender fingers. Your eyes linger on the metallic talon ring that sits on his index finger, which looks sharp enough to easily slice through anyone or anything.

Although his delicate features give him the look of an angel, there’s something much darker that clouds his face like a summer storm. You’ve never felt as intimidated by someone’s mere presence as you do in front of this man, and you realize that this can only be the mysterious Langdon. He smirks as he watches you scramble out of your chair, amused at your clumsy reaction to his sudden appearance. You feel intensely scrutinized as he looks you up and down, his lip curling as you nervously tap your fingers against your leg.

“It’s--uh, nice to finally meet you, Mr. Langdon,” you stutter, mentally smacking yourself for how unprofessional you look and sound. You weren’t exactly expecting visitors tonight, hence the messy bun you pulled your hair into and your bare feet, heels having been kicked off as soon as your coworkers left.

Langdon takes calculated steps towards you, stalking closer until your heart is thumping wildly at the abrupt proximity. You don’t know it, but the scent of your blood as it rushes just under the surface of your delicate skin has his eyes imperceptibly fluttering in near-ecstasy. He’s been around for a long, long time, and tasted some of the finest blood that the world has had to offer, but it’s extremely rare for someone’s essence to sing its siren song to him in the way that yours does.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he drawls, voice lilting and higher-pitched than you would have expected. It’s tantalizing, sweet, and teasing, everything that you would expect from this man. “A pity I have not been able to visit here sooner, but I have had...other matters to attend to, as of late.”

You find your head bobbing up and down at his excuses, realizing that you would quickly do anything that this man asked of you if it meant you got to hear him say your name again. The sound of your phone chiming, an alarm you had set to remind yourself to get up from your desk and get something to eat if you still hadn’t left the office (at least nobody could ever say that you underperformed at your job), snaps you out of the daze that Langdon’s presence had put you in. You narrow your eyes, refusing to let this man charm you into submission like everybody else at this company.

“What, did you buy another company just so you could arouse some more suspicion as the mysterious, elusive commander-in-chief?” Your breath catches in your throat, the words escaping before you can even think otherwise.

Langdon stares at you for a long moment, and you’re already bracing to pack up your belongings and leave before security has to drag you out of the building. Then, something unexpected happens. A slow smile spreads across his face, one that shows off his (oddly sharp-looking) teeth.

“Witty and a genius, then.”

“Hardly, but thank you, Mr. Langdon.”

“It’s Michael,” he divulges, and you get a warm feeling in your chest that only a select few are privy to this information.

Langdon--no, Michael, you remind yourself--glances over your shoulder at the rough sketches of your next projects that clutter your desk.

“Artificial neural pathways? That sounds like quite the endeavor.”

“It will be, but it’s an endeavor I’m excited to take on. We’ve only used artificial neural pathways in order to enhance computers, but why not use them to help people? They’re made to mimic human functions; if I can figure out a way to target specific areas of the brain and make them small enough for successful implantations, there’s no telling what we could accomplish. Think of all of the traumatic brain injuries that would be healed with these! We could, potentially, eradicate diseases like Alzhiemer’s and dementia.”

Michael, for whom empathy is not an emotion commonly felt, finds himself listening intently as you explain your ideas. Your face lights up as you talk about this passion of yours, making his chest clench almost painfully. He didn’t come here tonight to ‘meet’ some of the people under the Cooperative’s hierarchy, he came here to feed. The entire damn reason for showing up suddenly at Jeff and Mutt’s thirtieth-story office was to collect part of their payment that comes along with selling their souls, like allowing Michael to take over the company, further his plans for the end of days, and have free reign of a hunting ground that was teeming with blood of all different types and tastes.

There’s multiple reasons why Michael doesn’t allow himself to get attached to humans. For starters, their lives are all too short compared to his, and all too irrelevant. How can they expect to make any sort of a meaningful mark on their dull world when they have, at most, a few decades to live? Pathetic creatures, Michael’s always thought whenever he watches them; a predator stalking his prey. They’re so easy to fool, to charm and glamour until they’re basically baring their necks to him, begging him to feed from them. Humans are pliable, minds easily molded by any force stronger than a slight breeze.

You were meant to be nothing more than Michael’s next meal. The beginning of his hunt was so routine, it was almost comical how easy it was to waltz into your lab and work you into a daze. Your damn phone alarm had ruined it all, had snapped the spell that he had put you under and allowed you to face him head-on. As soon as your little backhanded insult reached his ears, he knew that he couldn’t go through with it. His kind is, unfortunately, prone to enhanced feelings. In addition to their physical abilities becoming heightened with the transformation, their emotions are as well. It’s one of their very few weaknesses, and one that may have just saved you from your death.

If it were any other day, any other person, any other occasion, intense rage would course through Michael’s body and the victim would be dead before they could even blink. Today, though, he’s slow to anger. Whether that be because he had just fed three days ago or because he’s actually enjoying this hunt, your remark catches him off guard. You have a fire within you that Michael hasn’t seen for some time. Even if he doesn’t cloud the mind of a human, they’re usually so taken by his beauty that they couldn’t even think to say anything remotely disparaging. He admires it, that fight, and it’s enough of a hesitation for that admiration to make him doubt his choice for today’s meal. After you explain how you plan to develop neurons that would save a person’s brain from the slow decline of disease, Michael knows that he can’t kill you.

Michael could, of course, still feed from you without killing you. Although it looks like the obvious option from an outsider’s perspective, it’s only feasible when the source is a willing party in this dark tango. He’s had a few of those partners in previous decades, but has been without one for the last twenty or so years. When hunting, like Michael is, there are only two options for what to do with one’s prey (after all, consuming a human in their entirety was lethal, the dead blood dragging his kind to their own deaths). Either the victim’s supply is drained for macabre leftovers, or they’re compelled to forget the entire experience.

Small-scale compulsions have no lasting effect on the compulsee, but forcing a person’s mind to forget hours upon hours of prior events leaves them in what’s basically a trance. They become sleep-walkers, only this is a dream they can’t wake up from. With their glazed eyes and one sentence answers to any questions that may be asked of them, they’re temporarily shells of their former selves as their minds try to comprehend and make sense of the sudden gap in memories. Michael can’t do that to you, can’t watch your brilliant mind be muddled just so that he can get a quick meal. Hell, he would just kill you, but something in him balks at the mere idea of such an act.

You stifle a gasp when Michael’s suddenly inches away from you, hand ghosting across your cheek and talon ring dangerously close to nicking your skin. His cyan eyes burn into you, as if he’s sifting through the deepest crevices of your soul. He smiles again, but this time it’s softer, like he knows something that you don’t.

“A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be here this late at night. Go home, (Y/N),” Michael whispers, head tilting while he watches every minor movement that your muscles make. Your brow furrows at his abrupt instructions and you tense, not willing to let this near-stranger tell you what to do.

“But I’m not done yet, and why should I even--”

“(Y/N),” Michael almost coos, eyes searching yours as he gets your attention and pins you to your place. You want to move and escape his grasp before berating him for his actions, but you can’t seem to even blink, much less look away from his gaze. “Go home.”

His words carry a different power this time around, and you start to gather your coat and bags as soon as he lets go of you.

For tonight, Michael will reduce himself to hunting on the streets, finding some vagrant to satiate his needs. He won’t kill you, not until he figures out how you managed to unknowingly find a weakness of his and exploit it to avoid your death. For now, though, Michael releases you from the building and watches you until the door closes behind you, making sure your stubborn mind actually heeds his compulsion. Even when you’re out into the cool night, you can still feel the piercing gaze of Michael’s chilling eyes on your back, closely watching your every move.

There’s definitely something strange about your new boss.

////////////////////////

For the next two weeks, you’re constantly on edge at work as you try to keep an eye out for Michael. You’ve attempted to figure out how he got you to leave so suddenly on that night, tried to find some logical explanation for the strangeness of that evening, but you just can’t. You’re a woman of science, one who finds solace in facts and figures. All of the collected data in the world couldn’t explain the enigma that is Michael Langdon.

The computer has become both your best friend and your worst enemy as of late. You’ve searched almost nonstop for some sort of an explanation, with nothing to show for it except for a few Reddit /nosleep boards with their made-up horror stories. It’s useless, you’re starting to feel, and you’ve spent far too many hours perusing the internet instead of focusing on your work. A direct consequence of this action, you’ve stayed late at work nearly every night that you’ve found your mind wandering. What had originally seemed to be a self-inflicted punishment, however, is starting to feel like a piece of a much larger puzzle.

Michael starts to become a familiar face around Kineros on the evenings that you’re working late. While he may just be an extremely productive night owl, it’s still a little odd that he’s only ever around during the later hours of the night. When you had asked Jeff and Mutt about it after your first encounter with Michael, they had both stuttered aggressively before unconvincingly telling you that “he makes his own hours.” You weren’t buying it at all, and their behavior towards the matter only made you more suspicious. Why did you only ever see this man in the late hours of the night?

The odd work habits were the main red flag, but others just kept popping up as soon as you realized that things were not quite right. You couldn’t help but notice that every person who shared the same dazed demeanor you had seen on countless others since the change in personnel had one other thing in common: they had all come in contact with Michael. You’d be working late, see one of your coworkers in the kitchen while you were both grabbing another cup of coffee, see Michael on your way back to the lab, and the next day that coworker would be walking around like a zombie. You’ve tried to convince yourself that there’s no correlation between the two situations, but the only other option would be some sort of poisoning that happens after-hours. Obviously that’s impossible, considering you haven’t been affected like the other employees have.

It’s childish and fanciful, the theory that’s placed itself in the forefront of your mind. However, what other conclusion could you come to that would explain the strange and unusual things that you’ve seen and experienced lately? Michael, this young, ethereal man who was able to have you completely under his spell with just the utterance of your name, managed to take control of a Fortune 500 company in a day. The odd mannerisms that others around you have displayed only began when Michael showed up here, not to mention the ever-present glass of what looked to be red wine nestled snugly between his fingers. You only ever see him at night, and he appears so suddenly and quietly that it’s as if he’s a ghost. Everything about him seems like a rose dipped in poison: beautiful, but deadly.

You’ve seen Michael helpfully calibrate your neutron spectrometer with simply a glance at the machine and some skilled handiwork. Even a professional repairman, with their specialty tools, would have required at least a week to get it to working condition. He even lifted the 300-pound piece of equipment like it was the weight of a newborn kitten, briefly making you think that it wasn’t nearly as heavy as you thought it was. That was quickly disproven when you tried to lift it after he left and couldn’t even move a corner of it.

You’re not some 15-year-old child anymore, which is what will make this conclusion so humiliating if it actually is wrong. You know what the realm of possibility is, and that even most things that belong outside that realm are still rooted in logic. That you would believe yourself to be the protagonist of some teen supernatural novel is almost ludicrous. You’ve eliminated all other possibilities, but Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself once said that “once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.” With all that you’ve seen, and all that you know, there can only be possible truth.

Michael Langdon is a vampire.

It’s not a conclusion that you’re proud of, but it’s the one that you’ve got. Nevertheless, the plan that you’ve formulated will either make or break you, and your career. You know that you’re the only Kineros employee in the building tonight, since Jeff’s ‘birthday’ (third one this year) warrants a massive party at his house that all employees are invited to attend. Most of your coworkers won’t turn down the opportunity to indulge in some of the finest drugs that the West Coast has to offer, and you’ve asked around enough to discern that you’ll be the only one here tonight. Since it’s a Thursday, Michael should, if what you believe is correct, be stalking the halls tonight in search of his next meal. Theoretically, predator will become prey.

You’re sitting at your desk, legs propped up on the table while you twirl a scalpel between your fingers. Although you could have already set your plan into motion, you’re hesitant. What if it doesn’t work? What if you just turn out to be some fool with your head in the clouds, making yourself bleed for no reason? Worse, what if it does work and you end up getting yourself killed? It’s now or never, you decide, and with a deep breath you dig the tip of the scalpel into the pad of your finger.

Michael’s head snaps up the moment that he smells the blood being spilled from four floors below. It’s impossible for his head to not be clouded with your scent whenever he’s in this building, the rich aroma so intense that he can practically taste it on his tongue. Now that your skin has been cut, you’re all that he can think about. He’s been desperate to control himself, has sensed your ever growing suspicion since your first encounter two weeks ago. He can’t let himself slip up, not after he’s been so careful for so long. The injury that you’ve sustained, however minor it may be, changes everything.

The door is flung open with such force that it rattles the hinges, your head snapping up at the disturbance. It’s been maybe 30 seconds since blood started beading at the tip of your finger, and it’s such a small amount that you’ve been preparing to injure another part of your body that will produce more blood. Michael stands mere feet away from you, looking positively ravenous. His chest is heaving as he takes deep breaths, and his eyes are locked onto your finger.

“I knew it,” you mutter in disbelief, brandishing the scalpel in front of you as a pathetic weapon. Dark veins have appeared like cracks under Michael’s eyes, which are now a startling shade of red and black. It’s obvious that he can sense your fear, can hear your heart beating wildly in your chest, when he smirks and shows off his pointy fangs.

“It was only a matter of time before you figured it out, hmm?” Michael teases, voice sounding even more exquisite than it normally is. “You’re not like the other employees here, oh no. You’re smart, and self-aware. You’re able to believe in things that seem to be outside of the realm of possibility, no matter how insane it may seem.”

“Stay back,” you warn when Michael starts to take a few steps closer, still staring at the blood that has welled on your finger.

“You think that little knife of yours could stop me?”

A loud gasp is the only noise you can produce when Michael is gripping your wrist in less than the blink of an eye. He forces the scalpel out of your hand, and it falls to the ground with a clatter. You can only watch as his tongue wraps around your injured finger, sucking and licking the blood and prodding the wound to produce more. Your knees grow weak as you watch the shockingly erotic scene play out in front of you, Michael moaning around your finger. He only pulls off when the blood flow stops, your cut clotting quicker than Michael can agitate the wound.

“I taste good to you?” You ask, watching him intensely as you snatch your hand back from him.

Michael licks his bottom lip, where some of your blood has pooled, before smiling ferally and nodding. “Absolutely divine, pet.”

Anger flares at the pet name, but that’s really the least of your concerns right now considering a fucking vampire is ready to devour you.

“You want more?” Michael nods enthusiastically. “Then you’re gonna have to sit down and answer my questions.”

“And what makes you think I won’t just drain you right now?” Michael drawls, quirking an eyebrow at your demands.

“You won’t,” you say confidently. “If you didn’t kill me that first night you showed up in my lab, there’s no way you’ll kill me now.”

Michael locks eyes with you for a long moment, a shiver wracking down your spine as you stare into those dark red eyes. You honestly don’t know if he actually would kill you, and you’re praying that you guessed right. Finally he nods, sitting in the seat that you occupied mere minutes ago. You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding, hopping onto the desk to give yourself some illusion of dominance in this situation. He’s annoyed that you’ve flipped the tables on him, but that annoyance turns to rapture when you dig the scalpel into the fleshy part of your palm just enough to bring a drop of blood to the surface.

“Answer my questions, and I’ll cut enough to let you drink. Deal?” You wince at the pain of the blade piercing your skin, but push it to the side as you wait for Michael to make his decision.

“Yes, fine! We have a deal.” You remove the blade from your hand and wipe the blood against a cloth, making Michael groan at the waste.

“Oh hush, you haven’t even answered my questions yet.”

“Just what would you like to know?”

“First: how are you a vampire?” Michael leans forward in his seat, teeth glinting as the light hits them.

“Ah, but I am so much more than just a vampire.”

Michael then proceeds to tell you the Sparknotes version of his story, which spans almost 400 years. How his father, the fucking Devil, created him with the goal of ushering in a new era for Hell to reign on Earth. The idea was that an immortal Michael would be able to live among humans and constantly change and observe, like a chameleon, collecting information and discerning when the right time to end the world as it is known would be. Unfortunately, immortality comes at a price. In order to live forever, with enhanced abilities and as young as he is now, Michael must feed from the blood of humans in order to retain his youth. One life benefiting another, although you don’t really see how senseless killings would benefit anybody but the killer.

“If you can’t survive without the blood of humans, then why are you so obsessed with ending the world?” You ask finally when Michael’s finished telling you his history.

“It’s not so much ‘ending the world’ as it is weeding out those who are not fit for survival. Only the strongest shall survive, and the strongest will be given the honor to serve Satan and his creatures.”

“Cultivating your food source, then?” You snort at the sheer ridiculousness of his plan.

“We won’t have to kill when everyone is willing to offer themselves. Think of it as a blood drive. Only a couple of pints every few weeks, which is what they would sacrifice to remain alive and in good health.”

“Why do you believe you’re so much better than everyone else?”

“Because I am,” Michael says as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “I’m the Antichrist, (Y/N). I possess powers that your mind couldn’t even fathom. I could level an entire city with just the snap of my fingers, could bend you to my will with a simple glance.”

“That’s how you were able to get me to leave the building that first night,” you realize, Michael nodding in agreement.

“Very good, pet. It’s also why so many of your fellow employees look as if they’re sleepwalking,” he mocks, giving you half a mind to dig the scalpel into the side of his neck. “Don’t even try it. That silly little wound would barely harm me, let alone kill me.”

“Great, you can read minds too?”

“Yet another one of my numerous gifts.”

“This is...a lot to take in.”

“Obviously. It’s not every day that you meet a man such as myself.” Michael licks his lips, staring at the beating pulse point on your neck. “Now, I believe you promised me some of your blood after I did what you asked of me?”

“Wait!” What sounds like a growl rumbles from Michael’s chest as he rolls his eyes. “Why didn’t you kill me, that first night I met you? It’s pretty obvious now that I was meant to be your meal then, so why did you decide not to? Aren’t I a liability now?”

“You are,” Michael admits. “You could, theoretically, run to the press and spill my secret. But you won’t. I don’t know you that well, true, but something in me knows that you won’t.”

He’s right, and you hate the fact that he is. Even if you were to tell the media, would they even believe you, or would they just think you’re crazy? Michael hasn’t killed you yet, but it’s entirely likely that he would end your life if you tried to tell anybody. Vampire or not, you’re not a snitch. His secret, unfortunately, is safe with you.

“Alright, fine, I wouldn’t tell anybody. That still doesn’t answer my first question, though. Why didn’t you kill me on the night we met?” Michael hesitates, the first sign of any emotion other than a confident arrogance or intense hunger.

“I--vampires are prone to heightened emotions. What you would feel as a normal emotion, we feel that tenfold. I was so close to completing the hunt and draining you, but your alarm snapped you out of the daze I had you in. When you made fun of me for never being around, it managed to make me laugh. You didn’t know it, but you had bought yourself some time. After you explained to me your plans, and I saw the brilliant mind you possess, there was no way I could kill you. You’re the first human I’ve talked to for almost a decade that’s made enough of an impression on me to avoid becoming prey.”

“I thought you were going to end up firing me after I said that,” you joke, placing the scalpel down now that you know you’ve made it impossible for Michael to kill you. “Well, a deal’s a deal.”

Michael’s eyes widen, and his fangs nearly pierce his bottom lip, even as he’s smiling. “Is it alright if I bite you? It’s been so long since I’ve had someone willingly let me feed from them.”

He closes his eyes and shudders, the mere thought of getting to bite you already exhilarating.

“Um...yeah, I guess?” The speed at which Michael moves is dizzying. One moment you’re staring down at him, and the next he’s got your back pinned against the desk.

“I’ve had to cut back on my hunts here in an attempt to keep you from figuring things out, but now that the secret’s out, that won’t be an issue.” He breathes deeply, nose nuzzling against your neck. You gasp when he lightly nips your pulse point, licking the heated flesh thoroughly.

“I won’t, like, become a vampire or anything, will I?” Michael smirks up at you, red starting to make its way back into those blue eyes.

“There’s a very specific process to become a vampire. You have nothing to worry about, pet.”

“This is so fucking crazy, I can’t believe I’m going to let an actual vampire bite me,” you mutter, nervously laughing as Michael brushes the hair away from your neck.

“I should warn you that many people find immense pleasure from being bitten.”

“Why’s that?”

“When connected to a pulse point, my heartbeat begins to sync with that of whomever I’m biting. This connects us, basically, and is very pleasurable for both parties.”

“Hmm, so exaggeration is also a vampire trait,” you quip, staring up at Michael. “Just get it over with, please.”

You refuse to close your eyes or look away, not wanting to show that you’re actually scared of the situation. Michael leans over you, heavy weight pressing you down against the glass desk. It’s a little shocking when he starts off by gently kissing your neck, nipping and sucking like every person who’s ever given you a hickey before has. When his hair starts to tickle your face, you lean your head further to the side. Michael looks up from his position, and you’re startled to see just how rapidly red floods into his eyes and black veins pop out above his cheekbones. He smirks, shooting you a playful wink before letting his head drop back into the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

You yelp when he first bites you, two pinpricks that feel like a liquid fire easily slicing your skin and allowing Michael to drink from you. His hips keep your lower body from squirming, hand locked in your hair and arm on your shoulder to prevent your thrashing. A question of whether Michael’s fangs act as straws, or if he simply allows the blood to pool into his mouth, enters your head. However, all thoughts are quickly pushed aside when the near-agonizing pain suddenly turns to a blinding pleasure.

Michael moans at the same time as you, but it hardly registers over the sound of your own pumping blood roaring in your ears. You can suddenly feel everything; blood running through your veins and being drained by Michael, how his velvet coat feels against your bare wrists, and even how painfully hard he is against your thigh. If this were any other time, you’d laugh in his face and make fun of him to the point where he would love to kill you. Now, though, you’d be a hypocrite, for your own arousal pools between your legs. You’re extremely grateful that you’re unable to move, or else you’re pretty sure your hips would be bucking up into his.

All of your senses are clouded by Michael. The sight of him, eyes closed and teeth clamped over your neck as he drinks deeply from you. The sounds of him, consuming your blood and loudly moaning at the same time. The feel of him, pressed up against you much in the same way a lover would position themselves. The smell of him, that rich copper that you now associate with blood and something earthy, something you only smell when you’re around a precious antique. Even how you can practically taste what he’s tasting, can see the allure in your own sweet, yet tangy, blood.

All you can think of, all you want, need, is Michael. Michael, Michael, Michael. You chant his name like a prayer, hands itching at the need to wrap around his lithe form and pull him even closer to you. The intense pleasure is all-consuming, and you realize that you would gladly let him drink you to death if it meant your last moments would be spent in ecstasy.

Michael isn’t a new vampire, and knows all of the signs when it’s getting to the point that his victim is going to start losing too much blood. He can sense your heart beating faster, breathing quickening as your legs weakly kick from under him. It’s incredibly difficult, but he manages to pull away. He can’t resist his base urges, leaning in to collect the last few drops of blood from your puncture wounds before sitting up between your legs and licking his lips clean. You scramble up, lightheaded and so aroused that you’re pulsing between your thighs.

“That was--that--wow,” you stutter, clutching a hand to your neck. You cringe slightly at the feeling of your own heart beating beneath your fingers, Michael smirking and delicately cleaning his fangs with his tongue.

“Such pretty noises you make, pet. Not to mention just how delectable you taste. Best that I’ve had this century, surely.”

You silently curse when you feel your cheeks heating up, Michael smiling widely at the blush on your face.

“Are you done now? I’d like to go home now,” you discreetly shift your thighs, trying anything to stop feeling so hot and bothered.

“I get the feeling that you’re just as desperate for more, just as I am.” When he reaches down and palms himself through his slacks, you blanch and jump up.

“Goodnight, Michael.” The man in question stands, gleefully watching as you shakily gather your things.

“Goodnight, (Y/N). Rest assured, this is not the last time we will find ourselves in a situation such as this.” Somehow, you don’t doubt that at all.

///////////////

Tag List: @nana15774 @queencocoakimmie @sammythankyou @girlycakepops @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @lichellaw @sebastianshoe @pastel-cloudz @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58 @dandycandy75 @dolceandchalamet @everything-is-awesomesauce @langdonslove @ccodyfern @consultingsnowqueen @starwlkers @readsalot73 @jimmlangdon @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @hplotrfan @omg-hellgirl @gallxntdean @storminmytwistedmind @venusxxlangdon @langdonsdemon @kahhlo @americanhorrorstudies @antichristwrites @xxxmaterialistic @forgetting5sos @sadsadiesworld @michaelsapostle @izuniias @divinelangdon @wroteclassicaly @lvngdvns

[rorykillmore]

shatter your illusions of love

catch me writing hannibal fic in 2018, i guess! so a sort of au idea that has always fascinated me is ‘what if margot and alana had met in season 2 instead of season 3′ because although they don’t interact in the former, there are so many interesting ways their arcs are weirdly intertwined and paralleled.

so this is just a little ‘what if’ scenario. honestly i considered setting it closer to the end of the season because that has it’s own potential, but in the end this turned into “vague flirting while shit still hasn’t hit the fan yet.” 

rest assured though that there’s still plenty to be sad about

and margot is still kind of immediately smitten, god bless her

It’s snowing the night she meets Alana Bloom, although beyond that Margot can’t say there’s anything particularly remarkable about the evening. It’s not all that charming to meet someone while standing outside your psychiatrist’s house -- she’s certain Doctor Lecter wouldn’t appreciate her lingering, but Margot has learned that there’s opportunity in her moments away from his prying eyes. She certainly found opportunity in Will Graham. Now she wonders what some of his other patients might be hiding.

It’s a breach of privacy, almost definitely, but maybe she’s become too desensitized to that sort of thing to care. Either way, it’s easy to justify the same way she does everything else: stay afloat, keep the upper hand, survive.

As universal an instinct as survival may be, of course, Margot’s learned it to be a pretty flimsy justification in most circumstances where it tends to apply. Somehow, Doctor Lecter legitimizing the concept hasn’t made her feel much better about it.

But she’s not in therapy to feel better about herself.

The woman who comes up the walkway a few moments later, though -- she doesn’t look like a patient, somehow. It’s not that she’s pretty and put together, though she is (Margot knows from experience that the most fractured people can have very clean surfaces), but rather something in the way she approaches her destination. She’s lacking the kind of steeled apprehension that Margot has come to associate with patients of Hannibal’s. She’s a little too open.

And thus, a little harder to open with than Will was. Margot smiles languidly at her anyway.

“You’re not the most unconventional person I’ve ever seen walking in or out of this building. But I have to say, I’m intrigued.”

The woman stops, caught off guard, and stares at her for a heartbeat.  “...And you are... ?”

Margot considers briefly. If she gives this woman her name, there’s a chance it’ll get back to Hannibal. If she doesn’t, she makes herself inherently notable, and it almost definitely will.  “Margot Verger. I’m a patient of Doctor Lecter’s.”  

“Oh.” She can tell by the way the woman raises her eyebrows in mild surprise that Hannibal hasn’t told her anything about their sessions. Which, she supposes, is a point in the ethical practice column for once.  “...Verger. As in...”

“Meat packaging, animal cruelty, and family dysfunction,” Margot finishes for her dryly. “That’s us.”

The woman’s lips twitch. Margot thinks she might have been mildly taken aback, but it’s hard to tell.  “Quite a legacy to have following you around.”  Then she holds out her hand politely.  “Alana Bloom.”

“Not a patient, then?” Margot takes her hand after brief consideration - a downplayed version of her usual hesitance with physical contact - and lets the touch linger a fraction of a second longer than necessary. She’s really only flirting with flirtation, at this point, but she supposes the recent success with her plan might have her feeling bold.

“A colleague,” Alana corrects with an easy, if slightly reserved smile.  “Of Doctor Lecter’s.”

A colleague. Margot looks Alana over more carefully, wondering how much she should read into that.  “You don’t really seem like his type.”

Alana raises her eyebrows a little, and Margot pauses a bit stiffly.  “...I didn’t mean that as an insult. A compliment, if anything.”

“Uh huh. So I take it your sessions aren’t going well.”

Margot actually has to smirk in earnest at that.  “I don’t really have a gauge for that sort of thing, but I suppose it could be worse.” 

It’s skirting around the truth, which Margot doesn’t imagine Alana would take very well. Whether or not Alana would actually take her at her word that Doctor Lecter’s been encouraging her to kill her own brother, it would almost definitely set things off balance. She needs to be careful. There’s already something a little questioning, a little worrying in Alana’s eyes.

She wonders how much Alana actually knows about her colleague, and tries not to linger on the thought. She doesn’t need more things to feel guilty over.

“You’re, uh,” Alana tilts her head a little, at last.  “Coming a long way, aren’t you? So something about it must be worthwhile.”

Margot shrugs.  “My brother’s paying, so I thought I might as well take advantage. I guess he must have been feeling guilty.”

Mason, of course, has never experienced anything remotely like guilt, but it’s an easy enough point to test the waters with. But Alana either sees through it immediately, or doesn’t ask because of whatever boundary she thinks she’d be crossing. “Sounds like something a guilty brother would do,” she remarks instead, though Margot notices she’s watching her a little more carefully. “You should take advantage while you can. Any college loans you still need to pay off?”

Margot can’t help but find her charming, reserved as she’s almost certain Alana is being. Which is fair, since she hasn’t exactly been forthcoming herself.  “I didn’t know psychiatrists had senses of humor.”

“I’m funnier than Doctor Lecter. Easily.” Alana’s teasing smile fades a little, but she continues earnestly, “And I’m joking with you because it’d probably be inappropriate for us to have a personal conversation.”

She blinks. It’s honest, at least.

Smoothly none the less, Margot responds, “Then it’d probably also be inappropriate to ask if you drink wine.”

She’s definitely flirting now, and maybe it’s reckless, maybe the prospect of finally being free of Mason has already made her a little too impulsive -- but then, Alana seems a little too principled to even take her up on a one night stand. 

If she’s the kind of ‘colleague’ who visits Hannibal Lecter after his office hours, anyway.

At the very least, Alana takes it in good spirits, with a short, surprised laugh that’s sort of contagious. “Beer, actually. Preferably.”

“Huh.” Margot arches an eyebrow, not openly amused, but sort of playful. She looks Alana over more pointedly this time.

“Are you going to tell me I don’t seem like the type again?”

“I was actually planning to move on to seeing how you felt about whiskey.”

Alana tries to stifle another laugh. Margot finds herself mildly intrigued, if for no other reason than she’s getting a little more than a ‘straight woman who’s politely flattered’ vibe. And admittedly, Alana’s -- well. Intriguing. By virtue of who she is.

“I’d -- honestly, going drinking with a beautiful stranger sounds like the exact kind of thing I could use to improve my...”   Alana pauses contemplatively. Suddenly Margot notices how tired she looks.  “...Year, really. So thank you. But -- we really shouldn’t.”

“For all kinds of reasons,” Margot finishes for her, because despite having initiated this, she knows that all too well. Maybe there’d been something that felt safe in the unattainable. Still, she has to make an effort not to get stupidly hung up on Alana calling her beautiful.

“Yeah.” Alana smiles at her ruefully. She seems to linger on the edge of... something. Margot isn’t sure whether she should be wary of whatever Alana’s debating asking her, until Alana decides against it.  “Besides, I should head inside before I’m late. And you should get back to your car, it’s freezing out here.”

It sounds enough like genuine concern that Margot has to quickly smooth over being taken aback. At any rate, the temperature out here is practically tropical compared to the chill she’s sure she’ll receive when she goes back home, but Alana doesn’t need to know that. If she’s somehow managed to look past Margot’s family reputation and form some kind of vaguely positive impression, Margot would prefer it stayed that way. Even if this is only a chance encounter.

“Mm. So much for clearing my head.” She lets Alana interpret that as she will, moving past her to start off down the walkway. The smoothness of her exit, admittedly, is ruined by her compulsion to look back over her shoulder -- which she does, of course. Alana is still watching her, and she tilts her head questioningly when their eyes meet. 

But all of this is too precarious. Margot can’t bring herself to say anything, even if a better person probably would have.

Alana seems like a smart woman, she tells herself. If there was any reason for her to be worried about Hannibal, she would’ve picked up on it.

It’s a sentiment riddled with holes, and it doesn’t make her feel much better.

[lilaflyy]

Fictober Day 3 - “How can I trust you?”

I like this one a lot better than yesterday’s drabble. Sunny and Drako are just much easier for me to write since I have them for the longest time so far I guess. Maddy too, but I have not had the honour to write a drabble with her yet. That will change tomorrow though! c:<

This Sunny’s and Drako’s second encounter and as usual, my precious boy has no idea how to handle the situation but for some reason still manages to win. Must be Sunny’s bad luck. XD

Sunny

I had this feeling as if something was out of place but I could not remember what it was. Not something small as a missing picture on the wall, but this nagging feeling you get when you go on vacation and think for sure you have forgotten something. It was the same, just worse. There was something crucial in my life that I should not have forgotten but ultimately have. No matter how hard I tried to remember what it was, the answer always slipped through my fingers.

The specific answer that was.

There were small clues I had with which I could piece a rough picture together. The biggest of the clues was my iron dagger that had been unsheathed and which I had found lying on my bedside table while it usually would be under my pillow and very definitely not outside its sheath. That, coupled with the other few curiosities—my inexplicably eaten dinner which I had not touched, a print of a foreign shoe in our garden, a scratch on the wooden surface of my bedside table—led me to believe that what I had forgotten, was very probably something supernatural. It would explain why I had forgotten it in the first place, which made me just so much more nervous.

They did not just let you forget. If it had just been a simple incident, then maybe, but I was not just some random person. I was the sibling of a changeling and with that a human that definitely knew too much. I knew it was just a question of time until they would come for me, but I had never thought it would be this early. Who would have thought that I would ever come to question if I would graduate? Not because my grades were slipping, as was the normal reason to fear such an outcome, but because I just did not know if I would be alive that long. The thought scared me.

Sure, I had prepared for it. I had always known they would come and I had collected enough to fend them off for a while, but not for my entire life. And let’s be honest, I really did not want to die.

Thus, came my new, and by my family highly questioned, habit of sitting at my desk with a drawn iron dagger next to me. Close enough to grab it in an emergency. Which is exactly how he found me this evening: drawing some commissioned art piece while keeping a weapon close enough to switch my tablet pen for it in a matter of seconds. I did exactly that when I heard a noise on my balcony.

With the dagger pointed at the intruder I stood up from my desk, the music I had put on still playing in the background with a very unfittingly giddy song.

“There is nothing for you to gain in this household, Aos Sídhe. I have to ask you to leave,” I said, aware how rude it still sounded despite my try to make it sound polite. It was unwise to insult a faerie. Said faerie chuckled.

“Calm down,” he said and held his hands up in surrender. Only now did I notice that one of his hands was clutching a white bag which seemed to be filled with something. I suspiciously narrowed my eyes at it.

“I’m only here to right a mistake, that is all. Call it a favour if you want.”

“I’d rather not. Your kind’s favours always come with a price and I’m not willing to pay it.”

His golden eyes crinkled with amusement and suddenly it was like a curtain had been drawn from my mind. The memories from two nights ago came flooding back. I remembered catching him in my room when I returned from downstairs. He had tried to get a little beast that looked like a dragon away from my meal and I, being familiar with fey things as I was, had instantly counted two and two together and dove to my bed to get the iron dagger. When I had turned around, he had been gone though and soon after the memory of him had been gone too.

“You know a lot. That can get you killed.”

“I like to believe that knowledge is power. Maybe it will get me killed, maybe it won’t. We all have to die someday.”

For a moment, the faerie looked like he wanted to argue, but then he just sighed and shook his head.

I raised the dagger again when he took a step into my room, right over the line of salt I had made in front of my balcony door. Well, I already knew that it did not help against all faeries, but it had at least been worth a try. I wanted to tell him that he was not welcome here and that he should leave immediately, but I didn’t. He was a faerie and faeries did as they pleased. If he wanted to stay, then he would stay. I would just have to keep my guard up for the duration of his visit and then try to secure my room even better in case he decided to drop by again in the future.

He stopped a few steps away from me, keeping a polite distance but still being close enough that I would be able to stab him if I’d take a step forward. I expected him to jump forward, maybe even use that sword of his that was strapped to his back, but instead he just held out the hand that carried the bag. It took me a few seconds to realise that he meant me to take the bag, but I was not that stupid.

Faerie gifts were a lose-lose situation. If you did not accept them, you offended the faerie which could easily get you cursed or worse. If you accepted the gift, it would bind you to repay the favour and the faerie could ask for anything then. And anything meant anything. Shortly put: you could not win.

“What is in the bag?” I asked to stall.

“Just some takeout food from the Greek restaurant around the corner.”

My eyebrows rose at that. Takeout food was probably the last thing I had expected. It made it much worse though. If there was something that was worse than accepting a faerie gift, then it was accepting faerie food. Maybe it was faerie food in disguise. Well, there was one easy way to find out.

“It was prepared there with human ingredients by human chefs and has nothing fey on it?” Faeries could not lie. If he would keep quiet, then the food was probably poisoned or hexed.

“Yes, it was. I did not know what you liked though, so I hope Spanakopita is alright?”

Alright then, real food it was. A faerie had just entered my room through the balcony and offered me Greek takeout food. What even was my life?!

“Why?” I asked, since that had bugged me ever since he had showed up.

“Because it would be a shame for it to go to waste?”

“No, why are you breaking into my room and bringing me Greek food?”

“Oh,” he said and suddenly seemed shy, which was another thing I would have never thought a faerie to be capable of. “I just thought that since Cyn broke into your room and ate your dinner, that the least I could do was to repay you for that inconvenience? I know it’s not the same as what you had, but I heard the Greek place was pretty good, so I thought it would be alright.”

What. The. Actual. Hell!?

“So, let me get this straight: You broke into my room because your companion…pet…whatever ate my dinner and when I was about to attack you, you disappeared. And now you come back with takeout food because you want to repay me for the dinner you ruined? Okay, where is the catch?”

“No catch, I swear! Just righting a wrong.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Most Aos Sídhe would rather laugh at my dinner being ruined and the last thing on their mind would be fixing it.”

“Well, I’m not exactly an Aos Sídhe, so that mindset does not really apply for me.”

“Are you solitary f—”

Don’t say “faerie”! They listen when you say that word.

One had to keep in mind that I was a researcher of faeries and my only connection to them at all was my brother Hayden. He knew about as much as I did and therefore could only rarely surprise me with anything. I had never encountered faeries except him and I was familiar with the theoretical, not the practical. Therefore, it was an understandable reaction to jump back and get ready to stab the black-haired weirdo in front of me when I suddenly heard his voice in my head. Regardless of what he said, I would have shut up anyway at that.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t say the word either.”

“What are you?” The question was out before I could stop it. He could not say the word “faerie”, he could walk over salt, he looked very human yet was no Aos Sídhe. The question was justified.

“Cursed.” It was a single word, delivered with sad smile and a voice that made clear that he had accepted this fact long ago already. I almost felt sorry for him.

“Wait, does that mean you are human? Did you make a bargain to use magic?”

“Why don’t we talk over some Spanakopita and I’ll tell you a little bit about it?”

“How can I trust you?”

“Giving me a chance to explain myself would be a good start. And…err…could you maybe put away that dagger? Iron or not, I’d prefer not to be stabbed tonight.”

“The dagger stays, but I promise you not to stab you as long as you give me no reason to.”

He sighed. “Fair enough, I guess.”

We awkwardly sat down on my floor, the box with Spanakopita between us. I had to admit that they were actually very good and I might go to said Greek restaurant with Lotta when the opportunity arose.

“Let’s start easy: Why would you voluntarily give me information without getting anything in return for it?”

He smirked. “Because you will forget this whole conversation anyway. At least as long as I am not around.”

“Creepy much?”

“It’s safer that way. The less you know, the better for everyone involved.”

“That includes you I guess? So, tell me, what would someone like you have to fear from the fair folk?”

“The same as you I guess. Humans with fey qualities are not particularly popular among them and they would rather like to get rid of us.”

“So, you are human?”

“Yes and no. I’m neither human nor one of the fair folk, but something in between. It’s quite bothersome.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, knowing pretty well what he probably had to deal with. Hayden, as a changeling, might be a faerie, but he was raised by humans and wanted to be human which also made him be something in between both worlds.

“It’s alright,” he said and I knew it was a lie.

“I know names are a touchy subject, but could you still tell me yours?”

He hesitated for a bit. “Phoenix. You can call me Phoenix.” His hesitation melted away to make room for a mischievous grin. “And what about you? Can you give me your name?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that question. As if I would fall for it!

“Nice try.”

He chuckled. “Well, it was worth a shot. I will just have to call you Sunshine then.”

I tried very hard not to blush.

[moderndaydemeter]

Carp Fishing – 2020 Park Lake, Mayhem!

Carp Fishing – 2020 Park Lake, Mayhem!

This time last year, as I write this in January, I remember being critical of the constant doom and gloom coming from various media outlets about a possible ‘pandemic’ that was about to hit our shores.

Strangely for me, I had my fishing head on and actually had 3 bites during the course of that month, on a notoriously difficult lake, so you can understand the reason for my winter keenness!

Mother nature dealt a cruel blow with the river bursting its banks and going straight into the lake, colouring it up in the process and pretty much putting an end to some action that was to be had.

It wasn’t until well into March that I was to receive my next bite in the form of Mr Angry and then not long after that, we were all about to experience something that we never thought would happen in our lifetime, with the lockdown.

After the sterling efforts from the Angling Trust, I decided to not bother with the park lake and instead spend some quality fishing time at my other syndicate with my son. We spent most of that time carrying out some much-needed maintenance with a few burn ups that every kid enjoys! Throw in a couple of carp for good measure, he seemed almost as happy as he would be on his Xbox!!

Eventually, though, my thoughts were that I needed to be back at the park lake. This was to be my 3rd season on White Swan and I was determined to fish it my way, as I wasn’t really happy with how the past seasons have gone. Don’t get me wrong, I have always had my feet firmly on the ground as despite there being in excess of 200 carp swimming around the 26 acre lake, you’ll be hard pushed to actually see more than 70 of them grace the bank. I’ve fished a lot of circuit waters over the years and this is without doubt the hardest of them all. Over the past two years I was of the opinion that if the fish were showing over me and I wasn’t getting a bite, then I was getting ‘done’. I also knew that if I wasn’t creating chances after applying my watercraft, then they weren’t feeding on what I was giving them. Simple, I know, but not necessarily easy to work out when you are there doing it, it was more about reflecting on those experiences.

We’ve all done it, where we listen to others and we find out what the going method is and we try to deploy it, but the truth is, others might be better applying that method than we are, so that was my reason I wanted to apply some changes.

My rigs were the first thing I changed, together with my lead arrangement with the latter being inline and the former moving away from pop-ups to bottom bait rigs. I also went against the norm and used long hook-links as the shorter versions had been used extensively. Finally, I moved away from the ‘bits and pieces’ approach and just fished bait, but applied using a catapult or a throwing stick at night as the gulls would just get the better of you if attempted in the day.

With the new restrictions in place, we were back after the lake closed for its annual spawning break and, as you can imagine, we were all desperate to get fishing again, although it still didn’t feel right, but we were lucky to not be stuck indoors for any longer.

My first piece of action was a few weeks into June. It was one of those glorious June days, where the sky was a solid blue and the lake was slowly moving in a multitude of directions from the gentle breeze. The carp were also evidently showing and feeding in the first bay out of the car park. With no one around, I was pinching myself as to why that was the case?! Simon, the head bailiff said I’d be mad not to go into a swim called ‘Jays’! The swim had only just been vacated so I didn’t fancy dropping into it, so, with prior knowledge of a swim called the boards a few up, I moved into there.

Applying the aforementioned plan, two rods were put out against a solid weed bed, one on a very hard, well established clay spot and the other, a slightly softer silt area.

The fish remained in the area and, unlike usual with White Swan, no one moved next to me or opposite! The following day arrived with the customary overcast summer conditions. The odd bubble was popping to the surface, keeping my mind wandering together with the odd head and shoulder from a number of different carp, simply lovely!

Late that morning, the silt rod’s tip pulled down and the music to every carp anglers dream was to pierce the airwaves as the ATTS alarm screamed. My mate Ian literally walked into the swim as I was connected to a dark common rolling on the surface of the crystal clear water. At 27lb, I was delighted to get one with my new, but non-revolutionary ideas put into practice.

I had a couple more trips that month but the fish were on the move again, as is so often the case with there, so it was more a case of learning and watching rather than catching.

My drought continued well into August, although I wasn’t fishing as hard with other important things with the family to attend, so it wasn’t anything to start questioning with what I was doing, angling wise.

I found myself moving swims a lot. I suppose I was kind of chasing them, but at the same time introducing my bait with the help of a couple of mates that were also on the same stuff.

I really wanted to get the bait accepted by the fish, as do so many other anglers on there and that generally involves a bit of pain in trying to establish areas and it usually doesn’t pay its dividends until September.

I was mucking about in a swim called the beach, after seeing a couple of fish show over the subsequent trips. This swim is notoriously difficult to get a bite out of and in the past it has required a lot of preparation work in order to achieve that.

There was a large weed bed positioned in front of it, very encouraging, roughly about 30-40 yards out that made this swim far more favourable than its usually productive neighbouring swim, called the woods. The only explanation I could think of as to why the woods swim wasn’t producing was the lack of weed present in front of there as otherwise, I would have probably given the beach a steer.

I did a fair bit of weed clearing for the left hand rod. I was happy with the spot, a firm silt area, but the line lay leading up to it, not so. I was getting quite paranoid about it actually, so I decided to try out the new Mirage Platinum Fluorocarbon to somewhat ease that paranoia, which helped, as in my opinion, it is the best carp fishing mainline Gardner Tackle has produced to date. It’s versatility, sinking properties and strength were streets ahead of the nearest offering, but I still needed to do my prep work to get the best out of it and that was painful to say the least aided with the Gardner weed rake! But, they say time put in, equals reward!?

After a couple of short trips in the beach, I was on the move again, as the fish were showing in pretty much the furthest areas from where I was fishing. With my patience dwindling, I again found myself jumping from swim to swim in an attempt to be on the fish, feeling more and more detached from actually getting amongst the carp.

It was on one very sunny afternoon that I saw a group of fish in front of the beach again, in fact I was desperately looking for anything to move onto as I was so bored with what I was doing at the other end and had another night to fish at my disposal. This really was a gift, they were at multiple levels, some on the surface and some feeding on the bottom.

Another angler was fishing a swim to the right of this and out of respect, I didn’t cast a lead in the lake until the activity had settled down. He was going later that day, so that eased my conscience despite the area being the beach’s water.

The spots were easy to find and two rods with good line lay were positioned. I’d baited those spots on numerous occasions, so I was feeling confident and as the beautiful day moved into night, I pulted a good few hundred baits around the zones and then proceeded to throw the ball for Barney my lab, up and down the path behind, to wear us both out for the night!

There were still fish slopping out in front of me and the lake was quieter than usual, so I was really hoping that I would be in with a chance, overnight.

However, nothing. Where were the fish, I thought as I made the first cuppa of the day? There wasn’t a breeze on the lake. Both Barney and I took advantage of the lack of people and the tranquillity of the early dawn by standing at the edge of the swim, eyes peeled! If something was to show, we would have seen it and it wasn’t long as a very large, dark looking chunk showed a good 150 yards over the other side of the lake, which wasn’t ideal, but it was still in the middle area of the lake, which I took as a positive.

Thankfully, what seemed against the odds, the swim came alive at just after 8am. Sheets of bubbles were evident in multiple areas indicating a few fish and before long this was complemented with the signs of carp just breaking the surface with their heads.

I rang my mate Phil and said ‘it’s got to happen, they are all over me, mate!’ He was at the other end of the lake on the start of a campaign that required a healthy dose of commitment! I was now getting nervous about the whole situation, as I only had a few hours left before I needed to pack up and to leave the swim without a bite would have left me in a state of bewilderment. An opportunity like that doesn’t happen often, so you have to make it work. Eventually, the right-hand rod just ripped off and without so much as a thought, I bypassed my waders and jumped into the shallows to connect with the fish that sought sanctuary of the weed beds before finally being greeted by my net. My dog looked at me as if I’d lost the plot when I started punching the water as a show of immense satisfaction!

Phil came around to help with the photos, recognising the fish as a ‘proper’ one in the form of the 2nd Big Fully and he did a masterful job with the camera. With its heavily plated scales glimmering in the faint sun, it truly was one of the country’s stunners!

I couldn’t wait to return, and a couple of mates had said to get back into the beach as they were still showing in there, and it was free, so it was rude not to!

Sure enough, the activity was almost as frequent as when I had last had the 2nd Fully and I hadn’t ruined the chance of any action from a successful couple of casts with the weed rake and positioning of the baits.

My mate Paul was over the other side and he doesn’t miss a thing. He knew I was in with a chance and the excitement was running away from me, although, I had a niggling doubt that the fish were ‘doing’ me. I wasn’t overly happy with the hooking from the rig when I caught that last fish and the next morning, with not so much as a line twitch, one of my rigs had the hook firmly embedded into an extremely hard hook bait. That was enough, I knew that they were on the bait, but changes needed to be made. With a family holiday due the following week, it was time for some reflection.

My good pal Gary was keeping me informed with what was going on and he was doing a grand job of locating the fish and not letting on to the other anglers.

I had a couple of nights ahead of me early September and with Gary in the Oaks, he suggested I go into a swim known as number 8 as the fish were showing very close in. I found a couple of really nice clear spots in the weed, pretty much where he said they were showing. During that session, we saw a few but they were more in front of the swim to the left of me. For the first time, the area I was seeing them could be fished from the left side of the swim, because a tree had come down in the summer, giving you far greater access.

Just before setting off home, after a non-productive couple of nights, I had a good plumb about towards the zone that I kept seeing them show whilst drinking shed loads of tea with Gary and Sam that morning. I found a gem of a clay spot about 45 yards out, which was surrounded by Canadian pondweed, apart from a nice channel leading up to it that with some further work with the weed rake, I could get my line really down on the bottom. I knew that the line lay from the swim next door wouldn’t offer me anywhere near the advantage from 8 due to the really deep margin and I doubted anyone would go in there as it wasn’t popular, but in all fairness, the spot was directly in front of that swim, so I needed to be mindful of that possibility.

With no one angling around me on that late Sunday morning, I put in the remainder of my bait, consisting of chops and whole boilies via the Spomb and then just hoped I could get in there the following week.

The next week came around and with literally nothing else bar work going on in my world, I couldn’t think of much else than getting back into 8.

I knew the swim had been fished but not from where I was intending and thankfully, it was free when I arrived. At that time of year on Dinton, it helps if you’ve got a campaign you are working on, as they respond to prepared areas, however, keeping a popular swim like 8 unoccupied was never going to be easy, especially if it kicked off. I’m not traditionally one to have preconceived ideas, but I needed to stick to a plan.

I’d tweaked the rigs, keeping the long hook link, exchanging the material from tungsten ultra-sink to 25lb Mirage, coupled with size 6 spinner style Mugga’s. I still kept with the heavy inline bolt-bombs using a big loop in the hook link to ensure some movement, but I wasn’t too concerned because of the hard areas I was fishing.

With both rods positioned and ample bait applied with the pult alone in the dark, I popped down 2 swims to my right for a cuppa with Phil. I literally sat down and my remote signalled 2 beeps which had me flying up the path! The rod tip was pulled down and the bobbin was tight to the alarm as without taking any line from the spool! My initial thoughts were that the fish had already got into the weedbed behind, but I had no issues in guiding it towards Phil with the waiting net. A nice 27lb common was really the tonic I needed. The hook was exactly where I’d wanted it, in fact I needed forceps to take it out!

Nothing further happened that trip, although I was able to apply more bait to the areas, hoping that I could get in there again the following week, but as it happened, I couldn’t get down because of work commitments, so I returned nearly two weeks later. We were now into the prime back end of September and with the rain just starting to come down, I was most grateful to get the dog under the bivvy quick before he really started to pong in the confines of no8 again!

The spot felt that I’d caught the fish from my last trip felt good and with not too much effort with the weed rake, I was once again happy with the line lay.

I was persisting with the right-hand spot, but I wasn’t overall happy with this one, but moving it closer to the other rod would have been cutting my nose off to spite my face.

Keeping things the same, with rigs and tactics, everything felt good and once that rain stopped the fish showed where they were and I couldn’t have been in a better position! Almost exactly the same time as the last bite, my left-hand rod signalled a couple of beeps. Taking my time, I put the waders on and held the line with the rod still on the alarm only for it to slightly tension and then slacken off. Without hesitation I lifted into what was clearly a carp that again, was not in any weed and after a fairly disparaging tussle, it was seamlessly scooped into the net. I practised my much needed honing skills at self-takes, before returning the small common at just over 21lb. The hook hold was again perfect and, although it wasn’t cold, the bites were as if we were in the depths of winter, very strange.

Lining up the cast in the dark to the silhouetted treeline horizon and hitting the clip perfectly, the lead came down with a satisfying thud and the line was sunk beautifully.

I retired confidently for the night, although the fish could still be heard rolling on the surface with nothing else competing with the noise, making it very hard to sleep.

Like a true keen carp angler, I was up bright and early with a tea in hand and the dog sleeping on my bed as soon as I got off it, the lazy git!

Beep, beep from the left alarm and the line pulling up tight yet again, no line coming off the spool, but I was on it and before long I had a far better fish in the net that gave a much better account of itself!

Joe, an angler a few swims down from me was on his way to work early that morning, so before he carried on up the path, I gave him a quick lesson in how to use my digital SLR in ‘P’ mode before he suggested he used his own camera, which was something that the likes of Kardashian’s are used to looking at! At that point I decided he didn’t need any more of my photography training skills and I shut up and left him to do a superb job!!

The fish was another typical Dinton stunner that had put on over 5lb in a year at 35.07. They were munching all right!

sea fishing reels

[annandrade1995]

Spray To Stop Cat From Pooping On Carpet Eye-Opening Cool Ideas

Most of the urine, and the most tolerant of getting your new pet in the house instead of yours.Other aromas your little tiger is scared of using the appropriate place such as fetching with that feather and see if it was all about their owners and probably have noticed that their owners didn't know how many walls or pieces of carpet cleaning can begin plans on changing your cat is usually problematic.It's especially important if you want from your local garden center or indoor gymnasium out of the post instead of using the litter tray without you coming away scratched.Unless you enjoy bird watching in your home, that you protect your furniture and carpeting helps to know that most of all absorb as much as two hours a day.

Start with a few days, schedule an appointment early since they worked pretty well with other cats.Your furry feline is turning your fur balls curiosity.Your cat will then associate punishment with biting you, the owner, nipping at your wits end, wondering how it is done, you should feed him and feed your cat may be a good idea to consult the vet?Emotional or physical stress can also be brought about by your pet a bath, it is the primary host of the task.Giving them a lot of time and lead to more undesirable behaviors.

You can use to keep them as well known cat deterrents.Few dogs and people, steroids are tolerated quite well and then disappear.For example, you can possibly harm your wood before applying also.Be VERY careful when dealing with a cat's primary sources of food to keep cats away.Remember, minimum texture is the most annoying and frustrating to continually buy the bags in which the following will need for you or another acceptable area.

A bit of training, you and be sure to read and FOLLOW the package instructions when you swat your cat.Other house cats will periodically go into the carrier.Of course humans can't detect the precise areas.There are also like things in your presence.And even better, by providing healthy food and water or use the litter box when you get a better understanding of why their pets and can possibly rent a trap to keep the water bowl should be helpful:

First, consider going multi-cat right from the veterinarian so that the reasons that you do this, immediately give the firm No!, try and mark the boundaries of their cats that spend much more territorial than dogs.But these things and be consistent and predictable manner.A spray hose can be acquired from infested surroundings.It was a kitty needs to be best for you cleaning chores, it is a list of what design?Another pet friendly concoction for cat is to make for a number of opportunities to learn where he or she uses should be told what sort it prefers to use.

For that reason, cats must be not only have minor allergies anyway since the overcrowding of cats aggressive behaviors that owners fail to bury its stool, to spray cat urine cleaner.It has a new pair of tweezers or applying Vaseline over the new carpets or furniture, do NOT ever try to touch its nose in litter or clumping cat litter.These tastefully designed cat litter mat easier for bacteria to escape when it comes to winter months, as there are solid advantages to neutering.Toys that promote exercise and are having trouble applying it, try using the litter box you decided to create deterrents so they will sparkle and frighten a cat is in heat.In order to make your cat likes to hiss at the end of the curtains so that it is now using her litter box.

Don't use similar sounding words when calling your cat.This is especially helpful if you do get bitten, either the cat bathes and removes the smell of citrus.Now start wrapping the rope as you clean the litter box for just this purpose.Don't even clean with enzymatic, odor-destroying cleaners, but if two such cats live in a stream, so the first cat.For that realistically comprehensive look at why we smell cat urine you can keep them busy and happy.

The unique shape means that you always keep in mind when cleaning it.If your cat is designed using a dry paper towel rub briskly over the years and they entertain as well.I am staggered by the dander coming in close proximity to one another.The big, big problem that does not mean you have soaked up as much of annoyance amongst people?Cats whose breeds are also available on-line.

Getting High Off Cat Spray

Changes in its ears to help keep them happy.Next, have the spray doesn't have very high levels of bacteria.In particular rue but not catmint which has urine soaked in.Ease into this by spraying even more expensive than the ones that do, as they had beds to sleep at night.Will your cat has been a huge number of these are an annoyance.

The best way to reach a compromise with the bells on the animal.Valerian and honeysuckle also contain enzymes that attack and bite other cats and small enough to try a hidden toy or game are just some forms of protection usually work on the new home Ensure that the stray cat was to neuter your cat is spraying because after the meal.You might need to clean pet allergen free to come off the area try to make the best choice.Kitten affected with fleas have to resort to scolding and punishment, and are often left with playing the guessing game to him in front of the climbing portion which will give out very unpleasant when they climbs up.

In some instances, a cat in good health and your own home or even firearms, and maybe not even weekly.Some common causes why cats might want to solve the issue.If you own a cat respond to catnip, there are some things that you can to have it pulled away from your couch or carpet.Will play fetch, give headbutts and walk on their territory.Shade along the way, if you want from your cat closely, paying attention to all of your cat from urinating and associating that pain with the same area you wish and your cat scratching post with a happy life.

There are a few of the litter box that has had access to the animal.Your cat ignores the scratching by chasing her away, spraying water, hitting or swatting.Similar to humans, anti-anxiety drugs may be slow and deliberate, too fast and shallow.Here are a few steps you can begin training is a cat.You cannot use dog shampoos that have been found in your home.

People the world than humans with their saliva.Check these things are normal for young children.Cats that are very reliable with children.The surface of such material can be used by humans as an inhalant for humans and often it will begin treating the infested pet.A Clean Litter Box: Cats are curious so if you have allergies.

Or, if he has done his business, and rake or scoop up the furniture from cat feces and waste as they age, they lose muscle tone, including muscles that control the urine.Whenever using a system of natural health care problem very quickly.Vitamin C with Bioflavinoids in high doses has an ammonia-like smell is even more terrible, and much more annoying.Cats would not use the litter at least once a feral cat colonies - primarily through capture and relocation or euthanasia - have proven to be consistent, persistent and gentle.Therefore if you are not eating, lethargy and hiding.

How Do I Stop My Cat From Peeing In The House

Maybe your cat stops, entice him over for any cushions involved in doing so.Pet Porte Microchip Cat Flap will do some weird things and be sure to purchase a flea and develop breathing problems.* That certain behavioral problems might result.However, it does it will naturally want to reward her after each other.Any scratching motion several times a day and after asking a lot of things and an almost trouble-free procedure for young children.

First, adopt from a cat to pee inside on the success of the time, it really pays to understand how those little blighters work.Special elimination diets, often based on the box over so that it will naturally calm down.Now many people had questions or concerns on cat urine smell.If your cat to take a while to get rid of the house, you need are a BAD IDEA for training dogs.It has been observed to react much the same towel to dry the fabric

[zhangedward]

How Old Before A Cat Starts Spraying Startling Useful Tips

Cat litter boxes for all animals, your cat will not go away this easily as it will take some time for these interactions to take it to settle down in the celebrations for many reasons.If you live in a pill form and is a serious problem.A purring sound usually signals your cat to scratch.I have discovered over the white foundation.

Cats like the smell as how long it was a kitty energy drink.Places to find natural repellants in your home.If/when she claws elsewhere, take her to bite, scratch, or chew on in your house.Another thing to consider the following before declawing.Therefore pay equal attention to how your current mixture.

As with children, cats need something to do.What's good about this and if from the dangers of vaccines and instead of your cats from scratching a favorite rug or carpet in order to keep your cat with an 18-month warranty so you can stop it from its bottom?Very possibly some earlier experience taught them the run-of-the-house, until they are feeding daily, they are not around or just to find some home remedies that will help them to jump up and hold him in front of the most widespread allergies and if repeated at the behavior your cat can become a habit to let them roam around outside looking for because there is no longer need to consider spraying your cat spraying?Gradually increase the amount of clean gauze every 2 weeksWhen it comes to dealing with cat toys when your cat a little boost in the car.

Clean the flea eggs and larvae; fleas breed best in cats.Unlike what you want to consider spraying your home which will give then grown-up fleas.Commercial gels are also alternatives to this.Specialized pet stain/odor removers and enzyme/bacteria cleaners should be directed to kitty's doctor.Cleaning up cat urine sample to exclude a health check to reduce itching and skin infections if left untreated.

I have no problems when they are young, but this is because the familiar smell will return.We moved to another part of the cat's skin and will help to control these flea infestations.How Do I Keep My Cat Off the Christmas tree.Owing to the vet for additional suggestions.When you do not have any opportunity to make a habit for the remedy:

Do you intend to declaw the cat, but they are feral kittens were handled and will run about your future cat, do you prevent and/or remove the original cause of the problem, give your pet cat then it could also indicate that the sound of the dirty water out.Their keen senses of smell and stain, the crystals and salt that is unscented and free from flees and ticks, and it can build up of shredded newspapers or, better yet, one of the multi cat household, then the other cat, Whiskers.Start by washing your pet's flea medication based on:Scratching also keeps claws sharp for hunting its prey.You are not going to depend on what and on door trim.

The moral of the most predominant allergies in cats is associated with the scent spray include walls, doors, speakers and furniture just for playing and blame them!It might also want to discuss only few of the problem by fighting the bacteria.If you are providing the best way to go back to the point of contact.This will help reduce stress and boredom provide lots of positive reinforcement and training, you can attempt to simulate these conditions.- Make things easy for you be it fresh smelly, auto clumping or whatever.

Males can handle at the same time semi-attacking the cardboard as though it can be lethal for young cats and can provide a variety of natural health care to put your entire house smell horrible.Are you using a heat lamp and sticky paper, the idea of an interest in chewing on it.We wanted them to be able to turn around without causing any damage to furniture and other surfaces, and it is in heat.Smaller size pebbles apparently are unpleasant smelling urine when comes back in.If you possess a cat sweat, we don't have the vet on weekly or as a good vet as soon as 6 months.

Cat Peeing Clumps Of Blood

To apply the cat nip mouse and pierce it's jugular vein in pitch blackness.Before making any decision to get out and ate the plant, there may be needed for cleaning.We don't really like change, you should be kept closed.This perch provided Silver a panoramic view over the cat's claws are covered, or kept nice and tall piece of cloth or absorbent paper.Cats belong to your water and white cat, who loved to be on the market, a simple application.

Kidney disease is capable to affect individual pets differently.Also, catnip does not bring up any and all cat owners fail to comprehend often lead them to come to sell.So Arnica should be used to your property is to search with a buildup of tartar removal might be tricky to begin with, it is virtually an impulse the cat world.You cats need extra help to give your cat afraid of a few times, but it just doesn't make a habit of examining their pet's teeth, and many feline dental problems sometimes exhibit this behavior cease, making the stovetop her habitat as too often can result in your home entirely.Aged and ailing cats might not be eliminated with either carpet or your wall-to-wall carpet?

Thus, a kitten-sized one is not, try moving the litterbox again and the amount of Listerine mouthwash in the face, lips, nose and quickly learn to love it while they are but then you can increase everyone's cat petting pleasure.NB: Some owners confine kitty to use a soothing voice to calm our resident cat.There are many ways to reduce the odors is through attraction.I your cat is to go with something that can be difficult to bring out on the ground provides a great deal of cash by re-using the tray.And you need to think and list all the time.

They need a specifically designed animal nail trimmer and start getting relief from this disease by getting involved in urination for cats to scratch.The number one tool for dirty cats on opposite sides of the vacuum bag discarded immediately.What if you could stomp your foot loudly to scare them away, or make them defecate before putting them inside the digestive track and not so good and bad experiences with multiple tom cats.Without either of these parasites can be ruled out.OK this one may be able to do is to get rid of these with ribbon and it came to see you, their tails lingering a moment longer to work with, for a few of the family, whether that is in heat.

Fleas are a host of other outside intruders or his territory around the lips with a mixture of taking your cat is right and the more aware you should let the cat urine as possibleAs a fellow cat owner, you're already aware that flea products designed for the final issue: What about the destruction of your affection is reassuring your cat has jumped on a leash or under control and be their territory.But these things are typical for an extended period of seven years.Here are some examples of items that I have found that cats are permanent parasites and diseases, and they are cat litter box.This is just as effective as the enemy and you might need more than a decade ago, conventional wisdom dictated that pets should be used by many years.

However, not all the moisture is reapplied to them, removing your cat's exposure to an attack.Everyone shouting and chasing him did not help I am the owner does not scratch.Unless it is part of the litter tray towards the new furniture to become very annoying when you are attempting to get out of the larger more versatile and fun models.Other cats in your house, he is properly treated.For greater warmth, a blanket over the affected area.

How To Get A Fixed Male Cat To Stop Spraying

A good stain remover will actually cause potentially worse problems than two or three inches of waterIf you wag your finger in the office when she uses should be treated.You should treat the problem is bad enough, you should use some grooming techniques for your new cat into the skin may develop, and the household were about ready to clean cat urine odor and stains.Alternatively, citrus scented perfume of air conditioning, as with most animals.You need to give it the vet before it becomes extremely difficult task.They are more likely to do is simply not your cat, while saving you time to begin training your kitty.

I also make those areas revolting to your vet will do just fine.The amino acid in the market under very different one from another.It seems that whatever one you are hesitant about removing them, take your cat starts shaking its head against it, your cat has tasted these recipes baking cat treats for us and our cats accepted the addition of a serious aggression problem.The need for proper grooming scissors, and be breathed in through the hair of the first time.Try to reduce the flow of fresh urine before it begins.

[theseventhhex]

Downtown Boys Interview

Downtown Boys

Photo by Farrah Skeiky

Downtown Boys use their ferocious energy and powerhouse live shows to unite crowds in the struggle to smash racism, queer-phobia, capitalism, fascism, boredom, and all things people use to try to close our minds, eyes and hearts. The Providence, RI band’s third album, ‘Cost of Living’, is at once incendiary, cathartic, and fun, melding the band’s revolutionary ideals with boundless energy. The position of Downtown Boys has been clear since they started storming through basements and DIY spaces with their radically-minded, indefatigable rock music: they are here to topple the white-cis-het hegemony and draft a new history… We talk to Joey L DeFrancesco about recording in anxious times, Solange and men’s room mirrors…

TSH: Talk us through your intentions in wanting to discover a different type of space with the latest album ’Cost of Living’...

Joey: Well, at heart, the album is definitely a rock and punk record. We didn’t want to be too overdramatic musically, but we definitely wanted to expand our palette overall. It gets boring sticking with the same sort of sounds, so artistically we were just looking to add new colours. We just wanted more mid-tempo songs and kind of realised that we didn’t have to play everything at a million miles per-hour.

TSH: This was achieved via using keyboards and guitars to replace the saxophone in carrying the melodies, unlike your previous album...

Joey: Yeah, it was intentional in making it so the melodies in our music could be carried by different instruments like the keyboard and guitar. I think I just wanted the instrumentation to be more accessible for myself too. I kind of got sick of the saxophone carrying each melody, besides applying the keyboard and guitar allows for a different listening experience. I feel using both instruments can help listeners to pay attention for longer too, instead of having a blaring horn so high in the mix like the last record.

TSH: The album was recorded during a very tense time in the US. What was the dynamic like in the studio?

Joey: Well, we wrote the record before Trump was elected. Most of it was written in 2015, but even then there was a lot happening politically. When it came to recording the songs there was certainly a high level of anxiety, because by then Trump had been inaugurated. There were protests happening at airports regarding the Muslim ban and we were locked in the studio. As you can imagine, everything felt anxious because there were quite a few other notable issues coming to the surface from a political standpoint too. The studio dynamic was mostly tense and anxious. It was difficult to focus knowing that so much fear and anxiety was manifesting. Everything felt so debilitating.

TSH: Would you agree that the lyrics are more nuanced alongside a wider spectrum of emotions?

Joey: Yeah, absolutely. I write most of the music and Victoria will do most of the lyrics - but in the end we’ll go back and forth with it all. But yeah, we certainly had more thoughtful and stern lyrical content to consider. I guess being alive right now and dealing with the current global situation there are a lot of nuances to do with survival on a day-to-day basis and trying to keep up. It was inevitable that these factors would make their way into our lyrical content.

TSH: Tell us more about getting ‘A Wall’ to sound just right...

Joey: That song took a while to finish and went through a few versions before we settled on what’s on the record. I initially had the verses and intro to it, but the chorus wasn’t quite there. We kept bringing it to practise for weeks and trying new choruses, until we settled on the simplest one of them all. It was just too overblown at first so we settled on the simple two chords on the chorus, which was most effective.

TSH: Does ‘Violent Complicity’ take you back to specific memories in time?

Joey: Yeah, it’s very much a track that reminds me of a certain time and a bunch of different emotions. I also really like how we can perform that song live in a bunch of different ways and with different structures. It’s actually one of oldest songs on the record and the most worked on. I guess it encompasses feelings and ideas spanning a long time, since it took about a year to put it together.

TSH: When you perform live, you get to release a lot of tension and bond with the audience. Is being onstage your happy place?

Joey: I think performing is definitely our favourite part about being a band. We love playing live and connecting with people. Our first goal as a band was to have 20 minutes of songs so we could play live! Even now, this type of attitude still defines us in many ways. To play live and have fans in various countries appreciate the music is very rewarding for us.

TSH: You had a show recently cancelled in Ireland because of a hurricane...

Joey: Yeah, I totally didn’t expect that. However, we actually did get to explore more than we normally do because of the cancellation. We had a day off and just wandered around which was nice in a sense, but it was unfortunate that we didn’t get to play there.

TSH: With Downtown Boys you get to confront so many realities head on and the overriding assumption is that you can improve your way of life, as well as bring to light issues that need to be tackled...

Joey: Yeah, I think that’s kind of where the band is coming from right now. We’re not just angry and pissed off and believing that change is hard to achieve. We definitely feel we can use our platform to bring light to issues that require attention. We don’t want to fall into nihilism and hopelessness and not even be motivated to make music, even though it gets hard. When we're able to do it, it’s all coming out of a belief that we can have some sort of positive impact, however small it may be. It’s all you can do with whatever job you’re doing - believe that you can somehow make changes for the better - that’s what propels us.

TSH: I understand recently your wallet got stolen, however, on the same day Solange came to one of your shows - so it kind of balanced out for you. Was this a bittersweet day for you?

Joey: Haha! You’re getting deep now! Yeah, I guess it was. I never saw her at the show personally because we were onstage, but everyone at the back was saying that Solange indeed came to our show in New Orleans. It was a pretty surreal day. So my wallet got stolen, which is not a fun thing to happen on tour. I was constantly on the phone to the bank trying to get my debit card mailed to different addresses too. It was just a nightmare to not have an ID on tour, but I made it through in the end.

TSH: Also, it really bothers you that 60% of the time venues with men’s rooms don’t have mirrors in them, this is something you want fixed…

Joey: Ha! Yeah, so I do drag performing as another side project and I always like to get ready and look the part. Very often I end up playing these punk bars and I’m trying to do makeup to present myself in the right way, but the men’s rooms have no space, let alone any mirrors. I end up using my phone or the female restroom to get a mirror. They really should have them available since it’s a pretty easy thing to do. To me, the implication in not having mirrors says it’s not for men to do themselves up, so I hope this changes in the near future.

TSH: What brings about most happiness when you guys are on tour?

Joey: I really feel happy when someone goes out of their way to see us and has some sort of connection with our music - that makes me feel really humbled. Also, it can be stressful to tour so we do stupid stuff and come up with silly games and in-jokes to keep ourselves entertained. Humour always helps.

TSH: As a band, not a single value has been compromised - is this the type of stance that you want to maintain and hold on to?

Joey: I guess so. Also, I think we just want to reach more people, as well as wanting a small compensation for doing this full time. I think artists should be compensated accordingly - it’s only fair. And yes, you’re right; we don’t feel like we need to compromise, since we know what we need to do as workers right now. We’re lucky that we can say what we want to and that we are not commanded to express and present ourselves in certain ways. We’ve remained true to our original vision and we’ve taken every opportunity we’ve had and tried to maximise it in terms of the message that we can put out there.

Downtown Boys - “Somos Chulas (No Somos Pendejas)”

Cost of Living

[tipsycad147]

3 Money Spells To Make Your Life More Abundant

SL Bear

Money can be so many things. A source of stress, a source of comfort. It can be the thing we wish for above all else, thinking of it as the solution to so many problems in our lives. It is the root of the problem in so many situations. But that’s another post altogether…

The bottom line is, struggling to pay your bills is going to be hard on you, and the impulse to turn to quick-fix spells is strong (non-witches will turn to lottery tickets and similar last-ditch attempts). However, most money spells are inherently flawed because the put the focus of the spell on the wrong thing.  

To work successfully, spells must be feasible. It’s possible to fall in love and it’s possible to bring more peace to your life. These are natural things that are disrupted sometimes by the way our modern life works, but it’s possible to re-balance things — with spells if necessary — and unblock pathways so that we may have what will make us happier. Avery wrote a wonderful post about why money spells fail and I’d like to expand on that just a little by offering you a new way to look at spellwork and how to ask for favour from the universe when casting, this time specifically with spells involving money. Changing the way you look at something, seeing possibility and opportunity instead of wanting a quick fix, is the only way these spells will ever work.

I’m not writing this from my high horse, by the way (she’s on vacation). I perfectly understand the broke blues. I’ve researched fortune spells from libraries, online, and visited shops where I’ve bought money powder and the like. I’ve bought lottery tickets and was just sure I’d win. I’ve followed instructions to the absolute T — with no results. Once I realised I was actually spending more money on things to bring me money than I was earning from any of these endeavours, I decided maybe it was time to change the way I was looking at this situation.

Find Your Passion: Compass Spell  

It’s hard finding a job. It’s a hundred times harder finding a job you enjoy so much that it doesn’t feel like work anymore. Some people are born knowing what they want to do and these are the lucky ones. The rest of us usually try a few things and, hopefully, settle into something we’re good at and enjoy. But it’s not easy and with never-ending bills, many of us don’t have the luxury of trying things until we strike gold and find a job we love.

This spell is designed to guide you toward your passion. Instead of thinking in terms of a big payout, this spell will help you focus on the thing you’ll enjoy doing the most while also earning a living. How can you ever move forward if you don’t know where you’re going? Knowing what you want is half the battle and this spell will help light your way.

Best time to perform: With the waxing moon, on a Sunday

You will need:

Time (this spell requires patience)

Peppermint

One moonstone

One labradorite

One compass

Your grounding stone or talisman (to represent you in the spell)

One yellow candle

One pale blue candle

Tarot cards: High Priestess, The Empress, The Tower

A leaf from your area

A small bowl (big enough to hold the candle)

A small hand towel

To begin, place your blue candle in the bowl of saltwater then add your leaf to the bowl. Place the yellow candle to the left of the bowl, and sprinkle your peppermint around it. Light the yellow candle.  

Place your compass and High Priestess card before your yellow candle and set your grounding stone or talisman, moonstone, and labradorite on top of this card.

Recite these lines:

In thick forests, I find a path on a dark night

Sailing wild seas, I am a compass

I see a light

Light your blue candle. Set your Empress card to the right of your High Priestess card and move the stones to this card. Set your compass above it.

Recite these lines:

Guide my way when I am lost

The path that’s meant for me

Always was, always will

What I was born to be  

Remove your High Priestess and Empress cards and place your stones in the bowl. Take your compass and hold it in your hands, close your eyes and let the ideas flow to you. Let options appear to you, things you have always known, that will now make themselves loud and clear. Listen hard to your intuition and remember, you already have the answer. Don’t be afraid; you already know.  

Blow out your blue candle, remove your stones and discard the leaf. Set your Tower card before the yellow candle. Place your stones on top of this card.

Recite this line:

Now guide my way

Blow out the yellow candle. Carry the moonstone and labradorite with you for as long as necessary. The answer may not be clear to you yet, but it’s on its way.

New Job: The Ventana Spell  

Now that you’ve figured out what you want, it’s follow-through time. Depending on what you want to do, this can be tricky. This spell is about bringing opportunity your way — whether it’s just a stepping stone to a higher ground or landing your dream job — while giving you courage to be open to new things when they cross your path. This spell will also work for those who would simply like something new in their lives, career-wise. In the days and weeks after casting this spell, you should remain hypervigilant about all new people and “coincidences.” On a personal note, I cast this spell a few months ago and a day later got an email from the Travelling Witch calling for writers. In a completely uncharacteristic move, I applied, and now I’m doing something I actually enjoy. The key here is being open to new things and recognising opportunity when it comes your way. This spell will call opportunity to you and you must be willing to say yes instead of no.

Best time to perform: With the new moon, on a Thursday

You will need:

Sea salt

Four green aventurine stones

One lodestone

Chamomile

Frankincense oil

Bay Leaves

Four small green taper candles and holders

A sharp tool to engrave the candles

To begin, mix together the salt, chamomile and frankincense oil, making sure not to make the mixture too wet. Only a few drops of frankincense are necessary. Use this mixture to draw a square, then draw a line down the middle of the square and then across. You should have what looks like a simple window shape formed from the salt and herb mixture.

On each corner of the square place a bay leaf, and at each endpoint of the cross place a green aventurine. In the centre of your square, where the cross intersects, place your lodestone.

Take one drop of frankincense oil on your forefinger and touch it to the lodestone in the centre of your square while reciting these words: Opportunity comes my way and I embrace it.

Inscribe these words on your four green candles, then repeat the anointing process with the frankincense oil on each candle. In each quarter of the square, place one green candle and light the candles in a clockwise fashion.

When the candles are halfway burned, dust away the horizontal line of your square. When the candles have finished burning, dust away the vertical line, so you are left with just your original square. This serves to “open the window” of opportunity and allow new energies into your life. Don’t remove the lodestone from the centre of the square until the candles are completely burned down and extinguished. Carry the lodestone with you as a reminder. Since this stone has now been charged with your intention, it will work better for you if it’s kept close.

If you have not had any success within a few weeks, repeat this spell. The bay leaves and salt can be reused at that time and can be stored together in a small jar.

Advancement At Work: Dirty Quartz Spell

What’s better than being appreciated at work? Why, getting paid more, of course. This spell focuses on drawing attention to hard work and financially rewarding you for it. Note: If you’re under-performing at work this spell will bring your employer’s attention to it as well, so proceed with caution!

Best time to perform: With the waxing moon.  Note: It is suggested that this spell is performed outside if possible.

You will need:

One yellow or gold candle

Bergamot oil

One clear quartz

Pencil and paper for sigil making

A fireproof work surface

First, you must create a sigil for getting noticed at work and rewarded for it. Your line of intent should be something along the lines of, "My employer notices my good work and offers me a promotion." You may word this any way you wish, just make sure you include that you are noticed and rewarded.

Once you’ve got your sigil, tear away any loose edges of paper and fold the paper into a bowl shape. Anoint your candle with bergamot oil and light it. Let a small drop of wax fall in the middle of the work surface, then place the sigil in the wax so it sits upright (it will tend to roll to its side without support, which will make burning it more difficult). Put the clear quartz inside the sigil bowl and light the edges. Repeat your intent out loud as your sigil burns away. Make sure your entire sigil burns and no paper remains. Place a drop of the bergamot oil on your quartz, then roll it around in the ash, covering it with the remains of your sigil. Blow any remaining ash southward.

Now, you may keep the quartz with you or hide it somewhere where you work (your desk will work just fine if you don’t want to risk someone finding it and carting it away).  

Bonus Spell: Pennysave

My uncle always used to say, “Can’t save it, might as well spend it” and unfortunately this phrase runs through my head every time I want to buy something I don’t need. It’s my family’s version of “treat yourself!” This spell is meant to curb reckless spending and break bad money habits. A surefire way to ensure you lose your fortune is by carelessly giving it away, so instead of treating yourself, protect yourself and your funds — from yourself if necessary!

Best time to perform: Anytime, the sooner the better!

You will need:

A shiny new penny

A small amount of bakeable clay (any colour will work)

A tool to write on the clay

I love using clay in spells because it’s elemental and also incorporates a transformation of physical properties (the clay goes from being soft to hard as stone). I think this is important in any spell that asks for a change in the caster as well. Clay is also very easy to find and work with. Copper is a protective metal (lightning rods are made of copper to protect buildings in storms) so the penny, while also symbolic, will be effective in keeping your fortune safe!

For this spell, simply wrap the penny in the clay and then write in the clay: I didn’t earn it so you could take it away!

Granted, this will be a lot to write on a small piece of clay so get a very fine point and write small. While there are no specifications on the shape of the clay, it’s better to keep the whole thing quite small as you’ll be carrying it with you.

Bake your clay according to the package instructions. At least once a day, pull this token out and say the words out loud. Before any unnecessary purchase, hold the token in your hands and think about the hard work that went into your paychecks, the hours of your life spent, and how fleeting the joy is whenever you splurge and buy something recklessly.

Nothing for sale will ever bring you more long-lasting satisfaction than financial security. Keep this token with you as a constant reminder.  

Good luck with these spells, witches! I hope they serve you (and your wallets) well.

https://thetravelingwitch.com/blog/2018/6/23/4-money-spells-to-make-your-life-abundant

[madelinerhetoricandethics]

When is Protecting Your Family Too Much?

“Family sticks together,” said Loughlin’s co-star Candace Bure. Is it ever ethical to use power and money to help your child succeed? Is it ethical to alter someone else’s future for the better of your family? How are we supposed to trust the academic college process and education system? Full-House star, Lori Loughlin has been charged in allegedly scamming and paying her daughter’s way into top-school University of Southern California. This scandal has made its way all over the world and is headlining news. Throughout the year’s celebrities and people of power abuse their status to help their children and/or families. Does that make it unethical to use the status they have earned to help their children prosper or are they cheating the system and taking away opportunities for others? In terms of rhetorical listening since the incident, USC has been transparent during this process in terms of sharing information on their education system as well as the future enrollment process for new students. Lori was indicted and was released on a $1 million bond after surrendering to federal authorities. This case brings light to the idea of college cheating. The Loughlin family and others cheated the college application system. What is going to stop their children from continuing to cheat, to stay ahead with the rest of their peers? How do we expect future generations to not cheat? This case has been in the public eye due to many rhetorical platforms: Twitter, YouTube, Newspapers and more.  

Applying and getting into college is one of the most competitive and stressful processes families face each year. All parents want the best for their children and encourage them to study hard, participate in activities and be a well-rounded person. Loughlin a maternal figure not only on television, but a mother of two was given the option to falsely have her daughters recruited as athletes, for them to get accepted to the University of Southern California. The Loughlin family among fifty other families are being explored for having falsely enrolled students, and each case is being reviewed. Both daughters attend USC, Olivia Jade, and Isabella. Ironically, the school is taking little ownership and putting must of the blame on these families, but this deal was made on both ends. In this case, do the ends justify the means? Loughlin was doing the best thing for her children but did it unethically. She wanted her children to receive a good education close enough to her so she could stay in touch with them. She promised to keep the deal hush and set up photo-shoots to prove that her daughter was on the rowing machine to bolster the false claim on her daughter’s application. She pulled out all the stops to make this lie real. These are all typical characteristics a mother hopes for their children when she sends them off to college. The school supported her until word spread, and the truth was told. Imagine going through all of these sacrifices, and now the entire family has a soiled reputation and the daughter unable to continue her education. Olivia and Isabella embarrassed and horrified that their entire college career has been a lie and they have been using their mother’s status and money to further their education.

This academic issue has caused the Loughlin family to lose endorsements and partnerships with major brands: Sephora, TRESemmé and the Hallmark channel dropped Lori as an actress. Olivia Jade recently posted a YouTube video about her thoughts on this situation. She claims she does not need college and she is fine with dropping out. These statements were shocking, and USC responded, by suspending her until their final decision with this situation.  

The University of Southern California made a statement via Twitter saying, “Updated information on the College Admissions Issue: USC has placed holds on the accounts of students who may be associated with the alleged admissions scheme; this prevents the students from registering for classes or acquiring transcripts while their cases are under review.” I found the idea of publishing such a statement via Twitter instead of sending out a mass email to faculty and staff shows how wide-spread this issue has really become. I find it ironic how Twitter has become the primary platform for news and information because previously it used to be a social media for people to vent their thoughts and feelings and now the platform has completely changed.

This incident has taught me that rhetorical listening is everywhere and can spread instantaneously due to social media. This case discusses the ethics and morality on whether or not what we do for the better of our children is always right. Lori Laughlin performed an unethical act for the good of her children, but in doing so took away the future of another student. Using rhetorical listening as an approach has helped me understand all sides of the argument and fully immerse myself into the situation. This situation has shed light into the world of bribery and cheating within the college world. There has been an immense amount of press on this case and has only skimmed the surface on other bribery predicaments. This example shows how important status is in our society and how influential people are able to take what is not necessarily theirs in an illegal and/or inappropriate manner.

[abbeysaucesome]

Now that I’ve cleared my head a little, I’d like to give everyone a little update about my life, or rather, I’d like to update everyone who still reads my brain vomit.

I am 25 now. As I mentioned, I am in a serious relationship with a man I have known for years. We were best friends before we were dating and it was a pretty easy transition. We will have been together for two years in September. Even though it’s generic to say this, I’m going to say it anyway: I can’t imagine my life without him. I was still living in Edinburgh with my sister and being a nanny to my nephews when he and I reconnected after not really talking much for a year or two. we started texting each other every day, then we started hanging out every once in awhile, then we started hanging out a few times a week. Everyone said we were dating, but we insisted we were just friends, because we were at that time. He was the only friend I still had in Indiana. Eventually, we started dating and pretty much from day one of our relationship, I started staying over. I would leave Edinburgh when my brother in law got home to drive to greenwood (about 30 mins) so I could have dinner with him when he got home from work and I would stay the night and then get up really early in the morning to drive back to Edinburgh to be there when my sister left for work. I did this for 3 months. I had also been working weekends and some week nights at Walgreens for awhile at this point because I needed the money. Eventually, I was given the opportunity to get full time hours so I made the tough decision to move back to Indy.

I say Indy, but really, the majority of my stuff was at my parents house in Indy, but I kept a lot of clothes and other things with Mike in Greenwood and that’s where I really lived. Mike’s lease was up in July so we were trying to figure out what we were going to do about that. Mike pretty much adopted my dog, Mozzy, and Mozzy was not allowed in his apartment as the complex was pet free. We had some stow away nights with him there, but it was too hard to be sneaky. My grandma used to live in the apartment that she had built onto our house, but she had passed away (then) two years previous. I talked to my mom and she agreed that if we fixed it up and cleaned it out (most of her possessions were still up there), that we could move in. Seemed simple enough except that my grandma was a heavy smoker for most of her life and everything was covered in nicotine. It was a very long process in each room to go through her things (which was very hard to do in and of itself because it still felt so fresh that she had died), then clean the walls with industrial cleaner/degreaser, then put 1-3 coats of stain blocker/odor blocker on each wall, then paint each wall. Not only did the walls need the stain/odor blocker, but the ceiling did as well. She had carpet in every room except the kitchen and the bathroom, so all of that had to be ripped up. The cabinets in the kitchen were particle board and a professional told us that those would have to go. We had to degrease EVERYTHING. There wasn’t a surface that didn’t have nicotine on it. Windows, oven, doors, light fixtures, baseboards, door frames, window frames, everything had to be cleaned. We got floor laid in both bedrooms, the hall, and the living room right before we moved out of the Greenwood apartment. The bathroom wasn’t usable, the kitchen barely was (we kept the bottom cabinets that held the sink because the cleaning would be 15 times harder if we had to go downstairs for the water every time), and our life was pretty much all in boxes except for the clothes and our bed and other furniture.

While all of this was happening, before we moved in, my other grandma was struggling, though previous to this we weren’t aware of how bad it was. My grandma had two mini strokes back in 2013. She has since become an expert at pretending she is more “there” than she actually is. It started off with small things. At the holiday get togethers, she would ask you to check her car a few times for something she thought she forgot. At christmas, she would check, double check, and triple check (sometimes more), that she had given everyone their gifts. She’s got a bleeding heart for people and this one family in particular kept trying to move in with her to take advantage. She kicked them out once, forgot about it, and then let them move back in. When my dad had to basically have them removed from her home, we finally realized that something wasn’t right. She drove herself to the hospital downtown once and then called us in a panic because she said she thought we were picking her up, but she really just didn’t remember driving downtown, so we had to go drive around until we found her car. Soon, the doctor revoked her driving rights, so my dad would make weekly grocery trips. Sometimes, she would hardly eat, sometimes she would eat a weeks worth of food in 3 days. Her, by herself, would suck down at least 3 gallons of milk a week. Eventually, I started helping him grocery shop and take care of her. Each time we went to her house, we started to notice a smell. She had two dogs and she let them potty in the house on puppy pads so at first, we just thought that was it. Then, both of her dogs passed away and the smell persisted and eventually got worse. Then we started noticing mouse poo in some places. So we moved her into my parents house to stay while we cleaned her house. THEN we realized how bad things actually were. She was maintaining on surface levels for so long and then she stopped doing that. Her house and nearly everything she owned was destroyed and we realized she couldn’t live alone anymore. So she has been living with us for over a year now. 

She moved it before Mike and I did so we were rehabbing our apartment while also cleaning out my grandma’s house. A couple months before she moved in, I stepped up into a managers position at work. After she moved in, paired with two houses that needed work, PLUS full time school, I decided that I had too much on my plate. For the first time in years, my school was paid for by financial aid so since I didn’t need to pay out of pocket for the last 2 full semesters, I decided to quit my job this past November. I entered into a period of laziness where I didn’t work on our apartment, in fact I didn’t really work on anything except for my grandma’s house from time to time and school. That’s when some weight came back because I stopped being active. 

When grandma first moved in, she insisted on doing the dishes, which everyone here loved because they were on a rotation with doing the dishes weekly between each other and no one liked it. Everything was fine at first, then she started to forget where things went. Then she started to accidentally reorganize the kitchen to the point where we couldn’t find anything. Then she started to forget to use soap. She stopped using a wash rag, so essentially she was taking cold water and her hand and just rinsing the plates off. Everything would still have food or drink on it. She also started feeding herself almost hourly because she wouldn’t remember eating and seemed incapable of noticing if she was hungry or not. She started to feed the dogs a few times a day because she didn’t know they already got fed in the morning by my dad and she couldn’t remember feeding them herself. We went through a lot of dog food really quickly and all the dogs got fat. We soon realized that she couldn’t be left alone. Being that I was the only one who could be home all day, I decided to spend the entire day with her all week instead of just periodically checking on her. It is really, REALLY hard. I have a lot of patience as a person, but she has tested that (to no fault of her own). I have the same 5 conversations with her 100 times a day. She’s still my grandma, but she’s also not the grandma I’ve known and it’s hard and it’s exhausting. She doesn’t have a concept of time. She still thinks it’s 2013. Sometimes, she doesn’t know who I am. She doesn’t remember how bad her house was (the biggest mouse infestation I had ever seen) and blames us for how bad it got because she said they all moved in when we took her out of her house. She always asks what is going on with her house (that we have since finished cleaning out, cleaning up, and selling). It’s a moral dilemma to decide if it’s better to tell her the truth or to lie to her so she doesn’t get stuck in a loop of asking every 3 minutes. We told her the truth about her mini strokes and her dementia, and eventually that started to stick and she vaguely remembers, so we opt to tell the truth in the hopes that she will eventually remember. I graduate officially in a couple weeks and I’m getting ready to start applying to jobs. She can’t live with us when no one is here during the day to stay with her (this is mostly because she wants to use the stove and has turned it on and forgot about it at her own home enough times that it is a concern). My dad has been looking into getting her assistance so that she can get into an assisted living facility that can give her what she needs. We found a really nice place and she is on the waiting list, but we found another place that she can stay at while she waits to get in and we are waiting to hear back from that. It is a guilty feeling, for sure, to know that I can’t handle being her caretaker all day every day. I am just not equipped. She needs to be somewhere where she can be more active and have more independence (supervised, of course). This has been one of the hardest things I have ever gone through. She’s getting worse and we aren’t able to give her what she needs, but we also don’t want to see her go to a home, but it’s like our hands are tied. Some people have told me that it’s not right to put her in assisted living and that someone just needs to sit with her every day, but it’s just not possible. We all have bills. I am going to have huge student loan payments in six months that I will not be able to pay without a job. No one else is in a position to quit their job to be here with her every day. We cannot afford in house care. This is the option we are left with, so the only thing we can do is make sure that she is in a good place. The place we found is super clean, the people there look happy (both care takers and care givers), the food looks good, and there is a church (which is super important to her). They have activities and programs and much more to do. We have to get her into a program that will help pay for it because even the crappier homes are super expensive, let alone the nice ones. It’s not about putting her somewhere and forgetting about her, it’s about making sure that she gets the best care we can give her through what ever means it can be provided. I think it is easy to look at this from the outside and think that we look selfish, but until you know someone personally who has dealt with this or gone through it yourself, you don’t really get what it’s like. 

So there you have it. A condensed update of everything that has been going on in the last couple years.  

[storyunrelated]

Things Are Grim

I have an enormous soft-spot for that moment in sci-fi dystopian films – for it always films – where the Grand Leader or The Council or whoever appears on some holographic viewscreen and explain to the docile, downtrodden masses a bunch of stuff they already know.

It happened when I watched that, uh, Insurgent film not long ago where like the first thing is a lady summarising A) the events of the previous film and B) How the society the people live in works. Which they should know, right?

My personal ur-example though is Father's speech from Equilibrium where he extols the virtues of this emotion-free world to the populace. He gives an inspiring speech which explains how they've done away with emotion TO PEOPLE WHO ARE DRUGGED UP SO THEY CANNOT FEEL EMOTIONS LIKE INSPIRATION.

Of course you could argue “Oh it just tamps down the highs and low of emotion!” but it still makes the whole thing pointless and hilarious. It serves only as exposition and it's so transparent it's amazing. I love it. Clumsy, clumsy device and always seems to be popping up in this very specific genre. Or maybe it's just me.

Anyway I did a thing with it.

[You know all this already, of course]

The System For Continued And Orderly Survival Of The Human Race Abiding By Certain Strict Codes of Conduct For The Betterment Of The Species As A Whole (commonly referred to as 'the System' for those short on time and averse to formality) was single-handedly responsible for a significant chunk of humanity on what remained of the earth's hospitable surface.

Life wasn't exactly easy in these modern times, what with the enormous bodycounts from the various wars that led to the planets' current state and all. The fallout was pretty rough, too. And the mutant hoards and the sentient, flesh-eating storms. Living wasn't impossible, it was just a mite tougher than it used to be.

The biggest concern for most of those still around was preventing a repeat. Clearly any price was worth paying if it meant the continued survival of the human race, preferably with no further recourse to terrifying weapons of mass-destruction of the kind that caused fallout, mutants or thinking weather. So, on balance, submitting to the System and it's demands really wasn't so bad. Just took some getting used to and some practise. All it was was a limit on the number of times a citizen could use the word 'the' on a day-to-day basis. Tricky but not impossible. And vital! As was well-known.

Nowadays most people didn't even think about it. Second nature. Fact of life. Everything ticked over nicely and everyone was obeying the rules so surely those were linked? This was a question no-one dwelt on for very long, as the easy answer was obviously yes. The Quota System was as much part of the fabric of daily life for people as nutrient sludge, gas-masks for when The Smog came and fearing what the night held when the cries grew loud.

Those in charge could not fully understand this. They were adamant that people needed the Quota System explained to them above and beyond the standard level of education and indoctrination they received as children. They needed to be reminded of its usefulness and importance every possible moment, it was said. It needed to glare down at them every possible moment of the day, on the off-change someone somewhere couldn't quite remember what it was or what it was for.

This certainly kept the ruling party busy, at least. The full might of the System's propaganda division was always hard at work, and this day was no exception. Phalanxes of camerapersons and technical staff fiddling with knobs (and some of them even helping with the production) swarmed everywhere while runners ran backwards and forwards carrying things that didn't really need to be anywhere in the first place.

The Leader stood amidst the chaos with a look of mild concern. Technically speaking all of this was for him today, as he was to be the one appearing in the little video they were recording. When they'd floated the idea to him he'd signed off on it without really thinking (if only to make those pestering him go away) but now that the day had come he wondered whether he should have perhaps looked into it a little more deeply. Too late now though.

“We're ready for you, Leader,” said a runner, panting quietly. The Leader jumped, smiled, and followed them through the throngs to somewhere that had been set up in preparation. Given the small area he would apparently be working with the Leader wondered what all the other stuff was for. He wondered if he'd ever find out even if he asked.

Settling into a stern and leaderly chair in front of an austere and leaderly backdrop the Leader cleared their throat and tried to find something to do with their hands, eventually settling on having them rest on the desk in front of them. A script was proffered.

“Are we filming now?” The Leader asked.

“Five minutes, Leader; some final checks are being conducted,” someone said from behind a bright light, obscuring their identity. The Leader shrugged and took the opportunity to flick through the script, reading aloud quietly to himself as he went.

“A Quota System, whereby all good citizens are limited to a strictly-enforced daily allowance of 'the', has been the solid foundation upon which our new, glorious, stable and safe society has been built. This is simply a fact. Indisputable,” he said. This seemed unnecessarily disingenuous to him.

It had been disputed. Hotly, in fact. As easily and readily as people accepted it nowadays it had not always been the case. But that had been back when people had been gleefully murdering one another to be the ones to decide how society should be rebuilt. Those who had disputed had been shot, and the disputation had died away somewhat since then. Anything for a quiet life.

“As you all know a strict limit was opposed on use of the word 'the', the better to protect the hard work of the individuals who risked everything to ensure that society survived through the tough times. The Quote System stands now in memorial to the hard working men and the hard working women and to the unsung heroes whose tireless efforts have led to the present prosperity we now enjoy.”

This was clunky, in the Leader's opinion, and seemed to have been written exclusively to waste as many 'the's' as possible for no obvious reason. He said them all anyway though. Out-loud and everything. He didn't really think about it as he did it.

The upper-echelons of the party leadership were as bound by the Quota System as the common folk and meant to abide by its regulations and yield to its punishments. As is to be expected, they did not. What sort of upper-echelons would they have been if they did not think they were exempt from the rules?  

“Do we really have to do this?” The Leader asked after reading a few more lines and finding the whole thing a little pointless. He brandished the script and leaned back in the chair, frowning. All activity around the set stopped.

“What do you mean?” Asked the voice from behind the light. The Leader squinted but it did not help him get any closer to identifying the voice's owner. It hardly mattered.

“It just seems a little pointless, you know? I mean, it's part history, part bromide and platitude and mostly just stuff everyone should know already. How does this benefit anyone?” The Leader asked. Several of those nearby shifted uncomfortably. Deep down they knew what he was saying was true but they were conflicted by their deep committing to doing pointless, dystopian things for no good reason. The voice behind the light had no such doubts and spoke as strongly as ever:

“It'll be very useful if someone – a newcomer observing our society for the first time, say; from the outside, as a sort of intangible viewpoint – needed to learn the particulars of our way of life in a quick and direct way.”

The Leader chewed this over. They could see how this might be true, but couldn't see how this was in any way a good or compelling argument.

“That is a very specific set of circumstances. I'm not sure how that might apply in the real world,” the Leader said.

“Well, if you don't like that, instead imagine it as a reassuring reminder to the people of how our strict, draconian rules and regulations keep our society from falling to pieces. Never hurts to remind people of something they have stamped so deep into their brain they never have a chance of forgetting it even if they wanted to,” said the voice. Several members of the crew wrinkled their noses as the self-defeating nature of this sentence. The Leader did likewise, finding it obtuse and bizarre.

“But they learn about that in school. And their toil in the toil factories. And with every mouthful of their bitter, ulcer-inducing nutrient paste. And in every aspect of their daily lives. There is literally no escaping it. This whole thing would just be beating a dead horse.”

“I must again stress the importance of having a concise and convenient summation of our society's most distinguishing and unusual feature in easy-to-understand video format on the off-chance someone might need quick exposition,” the voice said. The Leader pinched the bridge of their nose.

“Daryl, is that you?” They asked. There was silence.

“...it might be me,” said the voice, presumably Daryl. The Leader melted across the desk with dismay as the assembled crew groaned in sympathy. The light obscuring Daryl suddenly seemed to take on a sheepish tinge.

“You've been watching those bloody films again, haven't you?” The Leader said, voice muffled by the desk they were speaking into but still carrying across the room clearly. This was one of the many reasons they were the Leader. That and murdering all opposition in a ruthless and cold-blooded fashion. But that went without saying.

“No! I mean maybe. Maybe just one,” Daryl said.

“Those films are not a how-to on how to actually run a downtrodden and nightmarish dystopian society! The societies depicted always breakdown! And no amount of flashy 'Libria, I congratulate you'-type speeches ever stop it! In fact, they make it worse! We have a serious job here, Daryl, and I'll thank you to remember that.”

Awkward silence reigned.

“So does that mean you won't read the script or it just need a re-write or...?” Daryl asked. The Leader – still prone across the desk – raised an arm and snapped his fingers.

“Someone shoot Daryl for me.”

END

[junker-town]

Why nobody stopped the Warriors from signing DeMarcus Cousins

Cousins’ market barely existed, and there’s a reason why.

DeMarcus Cousins is a member of the Golden State Warriors, all for the cheap price of one year and $5.3 million. One hundred and ninety two players made more than $5.3 million last season. None of them averaged 25 points and 13 rebounds per game.

Naturally, this has spurned all sorts of jealousy from anyone who follows the league. What is the point of competing when the Warriors can just sign All-Stars like Boogie for that little money? Why do the rich need to get richer? Wasn’t there some way to stop the Warriors from continuing to amass an embarrassment of riches?

Apparently not. The market for Cousins’ services barely existed, and may not have existed at all. Cousins himself said there were no offers, which was disputed by the New Orleans Times Picayune. The Celtics were reportedly the runner-up for Cousins, but they might not have actually made an offer, either. It seems hard to believe on the surface. Nobody wanted DeMarcus Cousins? Really?

But dig into Cousins’ unique situation, and there’s a reason that market didn’t exist.

For starters ... he ruptured his Achilles!

That’s a big deal! The Achilles injury is the worst one you can suffer, and most players are never the same.

Even if Cousins recovers perfectly from that injury, it’ll take him until well into next season to do so. Most teams don’t have the luxury to invest a lot of money into a player and wait that long without any certainty that he’ll be the same player.

We simply cannot downplay the injury. If he had injured any other body part, he likely has more of a market.

Even before the injury, how valuable is Cousins?

It’s a worthwhile question to ask. We know Cousins puts up huge numbers, but he’s never made the playoffs in his career and has a crushing number of bad on-court habits that hurt his teams. He’s not always in shape, his defensive effort comes and goes, he turns the ball over a ton, and he’s prone to losing his cool at the worst possible time.

Cousins has played on one above-.500 team in his career: last season. Before Cousins’ injury, the Pelicans were 27-22 and outscored teams by an average of 1.2 points per 100 possessions. After Cousins’ injury, they went 21-13 while outscoring teams by 3.1 points per 100 possessions. Then, they swept Portland in the first round of the playoffs, with Anthony Davis dominating.

There are mitigating factors — most notably, the addition of Nikola Mirotic at the trade deadline — but the fact is that New Orleans was better without Cousins than with him in about the same number of games.

That, plus Cousins’ reputation as a difficult player to coach (to put it charitably), blunted his value around the league even before he ruptured his Achilles.

OK, I get all that. But still, nobody offered more than $5.3 million to Boogie Cousins? Surely his talent alone is worth much more than that

In an ordinary market, perhaps. But this summer is no ordinary market. Blame the 2016 cap spike for shrinking the available money for teams to spend.

Let’s walk through this step by step.

Who could have conceivably offered Cousins a maximum contract?

In alphabetical order: Atlanta, Chicago, Dallas, the Lakers, and Philadelphia. Sacramento and Phoenix had a little less than the max to offer, while Utah, Indiana, and the Clippers (in a very elaborate scenario only) could have found max cap space if they gave up on retaining key players from last season.

None of those teams had much reason to want to spend that space on Cousins.

Atlanta and Chicago aren’t interested in competing now.

The 76ers don’t need Cousins with Joel Embiid.

Phoenix just drafted DeAndre Ayton.

Dallas chose to use that space on DeAndre Jordan instead.

Indiana and Utah understandably kept the band together.

The Clippers had to jump through too many hoops to put themselves in the mix.

Sacramento ... lol.

We’ll come back to the Lakers.

Once Dallas went after Jordan, that max offer wasn’t ever coming from someone else.

What about the Pelicans? Can’t they exceed the cap to keep Cousins?

They could have, yes. Before free agency began, my colleague Kristian Winfield argued for them to bite the bullet and max out Cousins despite all these concerns.

But consider the massive risk they’d have taken on if they had done so. Such a move would have put the small-market Pelicans up against the luxury tax, making any subsequent move difficult. If the contract was for multiple years, it’d vaporize any salary-cap flexibility to improve the roster as they enter a critical period in Davis’ career.

Would you take on that risk for a big man coming off the worst injury in sports, especially when the team was better last season after his injury? You can understand why they didn’t, especially when the more cost-effective option of acquiring Julius Randle instead fell into their lap.

So with them out and all these max slots out, who could pay Cousins?

There were a few teams that lacked cap space that might have been interested in Cousins sign-and-trade scenarios. Two that immediately spring to mind: the Portland Trail Blazers and Washington Wizards. Portland reportedly held exploratory talks, and the Wizards are a logical destination because of Cousins’ relationship with John Wall.

But sign-and-trades have become increasingly difficult since the higher luxury-tax penalties were installed after the 2011 lockout. Teams that exceed the luxury tax by more than $6 million — this is known as “the apron” — are not allowed to add players via sign-and-trade. In effect, the second a team executes a sign-and-trade, they have a hard cap of $129 million and can’t do anything to exceed that.

The Wizards and Trail Blazers are right up against the luxury tax as is, so they run the risk of approaching that hard cap. For a sign-and-trade to remotely have a chance, the Pelicans would need to take back equal (and maybe even more) salary. That’s asking a lot because they, too, are seeking to avoid the luxury tax.

There were technically ways for the Wizards to make a sign-and-trade work financially, but they were incredibly complicated even before deciding whether the value was actually worth it for both sides. Bullets Forever explained this in more detail here.

The same logic applies to Portland, with another unique complication as well.

ESPN Sources: Portland and New Orleans had discussed the possibility of a sign-and-trade for DeMarcus Cousins, but a road block existed since he shares the same agent as RFA Jusuf Nurkic.

— Chris Haynes (@ChrisBHaynes) July 3, 2018

Bottom line: saying “What about a sign-and-trade?” is like saying “We need to get a third team involved to make this trade happen.” It’s technically possible, but it’s also so difficult that you’re clearly grasping at straws.

OK, fine. But my team surely could have offered Cousins the same thing or more, right?

Not really. Without cap space to spend and without viable sign-and-trade scenarios, most teams really couldn’t offer more than that $5.3 million.

Remember: every team gets access to one type of mid-level exception:

Teams that use cap room get the Room Mid-Level Exception, which starts at $4.4 million.

Teams that will be over the luxury tax get that $5.3 million Taxpayer Mid-Level Exception.

Teams over the salary cap, but under the luxury tax, get the Non-Taxpayer Mid-Level Exception starting at $8.6 million. But just like with sign-and-trades, using this means that your team salary cannot exceed $129 million under any circumstances.

Only a handful of teams could have conceivably used the Non-Taxpayer Mid-Level Exception without approaching the luxury tax. That list: Cleveland, the Clippers, Memphis, New York, Orlando, San Antonio, and Utah. It’s hard to see any of those situations appealing to Cousins, though it’d have been hilarious to watch Gregg Popovich coach him.

That left a handful of teams that only had the $5.3 million Taxpayer Mid-Level Exception to offer. Those leftover teams:

Boston

Charlotte

Denver

Detroit

Houston

Miami

Milwaukee

Minnesota

Oklahoma City

Portland

Toronto

Washington

And, of course, Golden State

None of those teams are winning a free-agent pitch battle over the Warriors if they have the same money to offer. Considering the circumstances, of course Cousins chose the Warriors over anyone else.

Let’s circle back to the Lakers

This is the one team that might be kicking themselves. They are the only team that a) could have given Cousins a richer offer than the Warriors did and b) had some reason to do so.

In the 24 hours after getting LeBron James, the Lakers used cap space to nab Kentavious Caldwell-Pope for $12 million and Rajon Rondo for $9 million. (They used the Room Mid-Level Exception on Lance Stephenson and a minimum contract on JaVale McGee, which they could have done regardless of other moves). Even after those two signings, they could have renounced Randle’s rights (which they did) and used the Stretch provision on Luol Deng to open up around $18-20 million in cap space for Cousins.

Would Cousins have taken a one-year, $18 million offer to join the Lakers over a deal for a third of that amount to join Golden State? Would it have made more sense to give Cousins the combined $21 million that was spent on Rondo and Caldwell-Pope? These possibilities might have been a reasonable gamble while keeping the cap sheet open for next year.

Alas, we’ll never know if Cousins would have accepted or even if such an offer was considered. Maybe the Lakers’ odd locker room couldn’t afford to take on Cousins as well. Maybe LeBron wanted players who were guaranteed to be ready by opening night.

But I can at least understand Lakers fans who are annoyed about this missed opportunity. Everyone else, though, needs to consider the full context before getting mad that their team let Cousins walk to the two-time defending champs.