#and today was a bank holiday but her out of office message just went off which means she’s going to hear my message first thing tomorrow

[fingertipsmp3]

Knowing before I even go to sleep that tomorrow is going to be a weird day is like… I very much hate this

[jovialpersonheroflap]

Peter Mason worked too hard. At least that’s what his secretary, Mrs Tasker kept telling him. She told him he ought  to take more time off than he did, stating that he didn’t even use up all of his given holidays. Peter usually dismissed her and continued with his work. After all, his work was all he had. He was middle aged and had never been married, so he had no wife or children to spend his money on. He did have a weakness for expensive watches but that was about it. He often thought he should do something with his money, but he couldn’t think of something good enough. So he just saved it and continued working.

“Mr Mason, you really should leave, today’s a half day after all. And it’s the start of a long weekend, perhaps you could go to the continent?” said his secretary, standing at his office door.

“Thanks Ruth, but I think I’ll keep going, I’d like to have this section finished by the end of the day.”

“Peter,” she said, “you can’t just keep on working, even you need a break.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Let me not keep you from your husband.”

She looked as if she was about to say something but just sighed and left.

He’d come in on a bank holiday, as some of them did, but he’d resolved to do the full work day, which no one else did. Most people were using the long weekend to spend time with their families and friends, but since Peter had no family of his own and his few friends were more concerned with their own families, he was alone tonight. And when he was alone he preferred to spend his day working. At least that distracted him from the loneliness.

Evening soon came, and he decided that it was time to break for dinner. He could order what he usually did on nights like these, the same pasta dish from the restaurant nearby that he liked. But he felt bored, and wanted to shake it up a bit. Why not order pizza? Live like it was his uni days again. Uni was a much simpler time, less to worry about, fewer people pitying you because you were still single in your forties. So he would. Dominoes, he decided, for old times sake. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d voluntarily ordered pizza but he knew he couldn’t eat what he used to be able to eat in uni. Something smaller then. A bottle of coke, a medium pizza and maybe some garlic bread. He ordered and the little indicator telling him how far his order had progressed came up. It was different to what he remembered, but that was to be expected. Now, back to work until the food arrived.

Eventually the food did arrive, the ring of his phone alerting him to the fact.

“Um…hello?”

“Yeah, I’ve got some food for...Peter? I’m outside your building.”

“I’ll be right down.” He walked to the elevator on the other side of the building to his office and descended. He worked on the seventh floor, halfway up the fourteen floor building. Only the first nine floors were used by the company he worked for, the top five were used by another company who rented the space. He made it to the ground floor and walked out of the building, tapping his card on the sensor to open the gate. He looked around and spotted a car with a man in uniform standing next to it and made his way towards it.

“So you’re Peter?”

“Yep, that’s me.”

He opened the back door and brought out Peter’s food.

“Here you go.”

Peter looked down to take the food from him and his eyes fell on the guy’s bulge. It was visible through his tight jeans and it looked like he was packing some decent size. Peter caught himself staring and looked back up at the guy’s smug face.

“See something you like?” he said, grabbing his bulge while a smile played at his lips.

“Um…uh…I’m sorry…I didn’t…have a nice evening!” Peter turned and ran. Well not ran, just power walked back to his building and away from the embarrassment that he’d just endured. To be caught staring! That wasn’t like him. Maybe he really did need to get out, it seemed as if he was starting to go crazy.

He ate his dinner at his desk, watching an episode on his computer. He’d planned to get back to work so he could leave early, but he’d got a bit carried away with Netflix. So he continued working, determined to finish the section before he left. His phone buzzed and he checked it. He always checked his phone, as cases could change quickly and he might be needed to make decisions or inform other people at short notice. It was a text from a number that wasn’t in his contact list.

-  You want me, don’t you? 

Peter was shocked. How did this guy get his number? He did call him earlier to come and collect his pizza so that’s how he did it. But still, how rude of him to presume something like that of him.

-  Excuse me but that’s really inappropriate.

He put down his phone and got back to work. Another message arrived.

-  My shift ends at 11:30. Text me your home address and I’ll let you blow me.

The nerve of this guy! Peter had found him attractive, and though his cocky, overconfident attitude was making him all the more attractive, Peter was not going to give him his home address. That would be reprehensible! But he was hot, thought Peter, and he wouldn’t mind sucking him off. No! He looked young enough to be his son! He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He wouldn’t.

He did. He sent the guy his home address and didn’t even finish his work by the time he left at eleven. But he had to get home before midnight, before he did. Peter waited eagerly for him. He hadn’t even responded to Peter’s text, so he didn’t even know if he was coming.

Midnight came, and Peter could not sit still. Look at me, he though, jittering about like an eighteen-year-old. He was acting like an eighteen-year-old, offering to blow someone he’d never met.

Ten and a half minutes after midnight his doorbell rang. Peter opened the door to find the very guy, still dressed in his Dominoes uniform.

“Well?” he said, snapping his fingers in from of Peter’s stunned face. Peter quickly recovered and led him through to his living room. He plopped himself down on the sofa while Peter stood in silence.

“Got any booze?” he questioned, or rather demanded.

“Uh…I’ve got some wine, white, red, rosé, and some whiskey…”

“Whiskey. Neat.”

Peter hurried away to get the drink. It was quite expensive whiskey, as he’d been gifted it last month for his birthday. He hadn’t gotten very far into it, only having drunk a few glasses.

“Hurry up!” he heard from the living room as he quickly poured the glass. He replaced the stopper and took the glass out to him. He took it and took a long sip, drinking about half of it. He looked Peter up and down.

“So. Peter. I’m gonna make this very simple for you. The name’s Callum. Wife? Kids?”

“No, neither.”

“So what, the right bird never flew your way?”

“Something like that, I guess.”

“Nah,” said Callum, “it’s ‘cause you’re gay.” He drank the rest of the whiskey and held out his glass. Peter walked over and took it to refill it.

“And don’t take for fucking ever this time.”

He brought back another, a little fuller then the last one.

“So,” said Callum, “as I’ve said, I’m gonna make this very simple for you. You get my dick in your mouth, ass, hands, wherever you fucking want it. Maybe I’ll even let you fuck me. But we’ll have to see about that. In exchange for that, you’re gonna be my wallet.”

“Your wallet?”

“Yeah. Everything I ask for, when I want it. You’ve got a lot of money by the looks of this house, and you’ve got no one to spend it on. So there’s the deal.” He took another swig of whiskey. Goodness, he was drinking that like it was water!

Peter stood in silence, thinking on the offer. Callum set his glass down on the coffee table and unbuttoned his jeans, letting his meat flop out.

“Come on, it ain’t gonna see to itself.”

It was then that all of Peter’s resolve melted away. He could resist no longer and walked over to the boy. He kelt and started to remove his suit.

“No. Only your tie. Keep everything else on.”

He did as he was told and went down on Callum, with Callum’s hand firmly guiding the back of his head.

“I hope that dick is worth it old man, because I’m really gonna enjoy making those pockets hurt.”

[rylredrants]

The New Normal

The pandemic has changed everything and lately I’ve been asking myself, “When did this become normal? At what point of the last 10 months did the idea of the ‘new normal’ fade into a new reality?”

I recently watched the 90 Day Fiancée season that they filmed during the initial “lockdown” period last spring. People were just starting to wear masks because we had just been told they would help “flatten the curve” while learning to bake, and binging ‘Tiger King.’  

I had already been doing curbside pickup because I was afraid of running into *Beetlejuice* at the grocery store. (I’ve decided to not say the name of that ex because that seems to be how I summon more “attention” from him.) I had just decided I was ready to start dating again, going on my first ‘first date’ in years right before restaurants started closing. 

My first date with Pirate on April 29th consisted of slushies in the park with a bit of distance between us while we felt out whether or not the other was truly worth breaking quarantine to get physical with. 

Spoiler alert! Things are just as great in our everyday life as they were in that initial NRE phase last spring. 

I’ve been working from home for the same company for 3 and a half years, so that was no change for me. The daily press briefings from the tRump interrupted my work day but I just had to watch live because I wouldn’t believe the things I was hearing if I hadn’t seen and heard it live… the look on Dr. Birx face when he suggested “hitting the body with UV light” and rambled into the suggestion that doctors inject disinfectant to cure COVID…. The day that a reporter flat out asked him if he regretted “all the lying, all the dishonesty” during his presidency, and all of the other times he discredited the media and rambled about his ‘ratings’ while lying about the severity of the virus.  

I posted articles and tweets about the pandemic so much that I lost one friend early on because I wasn’t my usual sunny self anymore. That was after she messaged me talking about how harmful masks were.

And then the election started creeping up while the Quazy Anons got progressively louder and louder. 

My best friend laid a guilt trip on me for going on a road trip to Mexico for my birthday where people were masked more than anywhere locally, while she cited local COVID numbers from her hotel room in Las Vegas… where she had flown… through Phoenix. I ended that relationship a couple weeks later.

It’s been a blur of one historical event after another while the death tolls climb, surpassing the numbers of lives lost in 9-11 on a daily basis. 

2,977 deaths on 9-11 and a record 4,383 reported deaths on Jan 20th

But somewhere along the way, the pandemic fatigue set in and rather than adapting to the reality of masks, curbside pickup, remote learning and true physical distancing people gave up. They started pushing to get kids back in school, despite teachers not being priority on the vaccine schedule. They went back to browsing the aisles with their masks down under their chins and shrugged off repeated requests by the CDC to not travel for the holidays. 

Some complied with the mask requirements in public, only to host family gatherings at home. Others decided that “my body, my choice” meant they have the right to not wear a mask and go around asymptomatic and spreading COVID because of their free-dumbs.

The political discourse devolved into a full-scale insurrection at the Capitol only 4 weeks ago. 

Today Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez went live on Instagram detailing her experience that day. She hid in Rep. Katie Porter’s office, and borrowed casual clothes and sneakers from a staffer so that she would be better prepared should she need to run for her life... again.

And the sidebar story on that article is about Marilyn Manson’s response to Evan Rachel Wood’s naming him as her abuser. I almost got into it with a stranger on Facebook over that today but gave up after my 2nd response including video of her testimony to congress about sexual and domestic abuse in an effort to extend the statute of limitations on prosecuting abusers like Manson. 

Every day there is another trauma, another loss... 

Another reminder that the country has unraveled ways that none of us could have possibly imagined on November 8th, 2016- a statement I made on Facebook today in a post that read, “A heartfelt ‘fuck you’ to everyone who told me I was overacting in November 2016.” 

My mother, who has gone full Quazy down the rabbit hole of conspiracies, echoing calls that the election was “stolen” by President Biden, unironically replied that ‘nobody messes with her woman-child” with a gif of a woman rolling her eyes and sticking her tongue out. Her insanity hit a place a couple weeks ago that was so bad my brother reached out asking for help dealing with her and agreeing with my suggestion that she be committed to a psych ward.  

I can’t wrap my head around this new reality. 

But I keep coming back to asking, when did this become normal? When did people decide that this was okay and life had to just ‘go on’ while ignoring facts, science, and logic?

One year ago today I was waking up in my own apartment for the first time in my life, at 41 years old. I’d never lived alone and was reeling from loss after loss from the quad to my marriage and home, to the ‘false spring’ that ended up being the bridge between dependence and independence in a way I’d never imagined possible.

Today I woke up surrounded by boxes again. 

My personal reality is full of uncertainties… When will Pirate’s ex stop fighting the divorce and sign the quit claim on the ranch? Even if she does, will the bank work with us to modify the loan? Or will we just have to pack again after a few months living rent and mortgage free?

Or the more important questions… am I ever be able to fit into my pants? Will there ever be another event to go to that will warrant dusting off my high heels and putting on lipstick? Is this just what life will be forever? Masked, socially-distanced outdoor dining for those who have abandoned their sourdough bread recipes and grown tire of Door Dashed take out while Pirate and I literally mask up before walking out the door because we heard the neighbor coughing and it didn’t sound like his usual weed cough. Seriously. 

A week from today I’ll be waking up at the ranch with 2 new husky puppies in addition to the 2 Great Danes, 2 rescue dogs, dozen chickens, and a single sheep in a place where Door Dash doesn’t deliver. We will get the workout and eating on track again and find yet another new normal on the ranch together.

[elle-stevens]

The Break Up Blog - Day One Hundred and Forty Nine

My VPN is acting up again, so I’m blogging using my laptop tonight instead. 

It’s been nice doing lots of typing on my laptop in recent days. My Cat and Robbie story is taking shape in a delightfully romantic way. 

Who knew that Ariana Grande could be such a useful muse? I feel like a large portion of the world population could’ve clued me in on this fact a long time ago, hee hee. 

Today was my last official day at my old job. 

I took some time to walk around the school running track track and roam the hallways first thing in the morning. It felt surreal poking my head in through the doors of the homerooms where I taught so many of my students English, or tried to teach them at least. 

I felt a bit like a ghost in a haunted house since most of the students are officially on holiday now and the classrooms were eerily empty. 

After that, the day whizzed by with me helping C prepare some materials for her Murder/Detective winter vacation class. Lol, she’s really stoked about getting ready for police training when she goes back to the States in a month, so she’s turning her old students into miniature police detectives investigating crime scenes. 

It’s an unusual concept for a children’s class, but I’m sure they’re having a blast learning new life skills from C. Plus, filling mini ziplock bags with powdered sugar and pretending it was cocaine was priceless! 

When it finally came down to leaving, I went around my whole office to greet my colleagues one last time. It felt good to do that, even with my colleagues I barely interacted with for two years. I wanted all of them to know in some way that any help or kindness they gave me has always been greatly appreciated. 

It felt nice showing a bit of my emotions at work and hugging my colleagues and exchanging Wechat contacts with a few of them. I hope they won’t forget me; I hope I won’t forget them either. 

CI walked me out of school too because he didn’t want me to walk outside alone after saying goodbye to everyone, which was very thoughtful of him. And then he even hugged me goodbye outside the bus station near our respective homes, which surprised me in a good way. CI’s even more reserved than me and not big on expressing affection through physical contact. So I wasn’t planning to hug him goodbye today because I wanted to respect his personal boundaries. So it was nice that he broke his usual rules with me. Even though we only worked together for a year, I’m glad I met him. He’s such a great guy and become a good friend over time. I hope that he’ll still reach out whenever he needs help with stuff or just wants to chat. I’ll do my best to look out for him this year, especially with C heading back to the States. I’ll do the same with AS too since PE and his wife will be moving to the States too at the end of his work contract in August. 

I went to the bank afterwards to withdraw some cash and just walked around near my neighbourhood for a bit. I felt pretty sad and lost after leaving my workplace. This is a new chapter in my life and I’m still not quite sure how to feel about it. 

I got home and opened a gift and read a letter that one of my colleagues gave me yesterday. I just broke down and cried a for a while after that. The letter itself was simple enough, but the sentiment just wrung my insides out like a wet sponge. I sent some voice messages to other colleagues I didn’t get a chance to see before I left. 

CH, G and D messaged me throughout the day, which was good too. I avoided messaging my loved ones all day because I was feeling emotional about my last day at work and wasn’t ready to delve into it just yet. But I’m glad they broke down my emotional barriers to check in on me. It’s nice to know that I have so many people in my life who are constantly looking out for me. 

I sent H a voice message too even though we saw each other before we both left the office today. She left earlier than me because she had to go home and pack, she’s going back permanently to Korea. She’ll come back to China briefly next month, so hopefully we can have a meal or coffee together before she departs for good. I finally told her that X and I broke up and she was very sweet and encouraging about it, telling me I deserved better and that I’ll be ok in the end. 

Even if I let H confirm her strange ‘Columbo-esque’ suspicions about my breakup bordering on practicing witchcraft (H legit guessed at all the right reasons why X and I broke up months when she gossipped about it with C without me telling her anything, it was freaky!), I feel ok about it now. I don’t want to hold onto any more bad feelings that happened at work, in either a professional or personal sense. I’m also glad I told H that she did a great job as our manager last year, even if it wasn’t always the case. I don’t want her to go away from our school feeling like she failed at managing all of us. She has a lot of good points and overall, she was still a great colleague to work with the past two years.  

I also told PE and AS more about what went down with X. We ended up at a bar after having a farewell dinner for all the teachers leaving my school last night. I was intoxicated at that point and the three of us were talking about sex and relationships. They were very sympathetic and it meant a lot to get some things off my chest. Maybe by telling more people about what happened with X, I’m slowly freeing myself from the burden of carrying her haunting memory with me everywhere I go. 

She’s invading less of my thoughts these days, especially when I’m feeling horny. That’s been very helpful not having X’s face pop into my head at awkward moments. I still think of her from time to time. It’s mostly negative thoughts about how much she sucks as a person. Other times, they’re sweet memories about little things she did that made me smile or made me happy in general. 

She was my first properly long-term relationship; of course I’m going to carry her with me for a little while longer. 

At least till I meet someone new that I love for a lot longer than X. 

A part of me thinks that I’m ready to fall in love again. 

But then I have moments like last night where I’m wandering around drunk in my city for the umpteenth time in 6 months and I feel like just another lost soul who doesn’t want to let love into my heart again. 

My birthday is coming up next week and I’ve decided to have a simple birthday dinner with my friends on Saturday instead of Wednesday, which is when my real birthday happens. I’m still not ready to acknowledge the day, as shitty as that sounds. 

It is pretty bad considering I’m lucky to be alive. Not in the sense that something bad happened to me and I almost died, but in the sense that it’s a blessing to live out a new day every single day. Instead I’m treating my birthday like it’s something horrible and disgusting, like it wasn’t one of the few things that my parents actually did right together as a couple. 

Ok, that sounded so much weirder out of my head and in written form, but you all know what I mean. 

My point is that I should be happier I get to celebrate another birthday. I’m being an idiot just because I’m turning 35, I’m single and living away from home while celebrating my birthday. 

Hence why I’ll still celebrate my birthday with my friends, but maybe just have a ‘me’ day on my real birthday. And I can still call my family on my birthday and celebrate with them. 

So yeah, I’m taking baby steps on the road to happiness and finding newer and healthier ways to deal with my issues. My therapist is out of commission these days because she has Stage 0 breast cancer and had surgery recently. So she’s recuperating at home and not seeing her patients till February so her medical insurance pays out as promised. That’s ok with me, I’m putting on my ‘big girl pants’ and trying not to need her for anything till I see her in person in February when I go home to see my family. 

So in the meantime, I’ll try not to indulge in self-destructive behaviour from now on. After my birthday, I’m going to stave off drinking for a while too. I need to take better care of my health in light of my gastritis. I just hope I can get better medication to help me with my acid reflux and dry mouth in the future. 

I made spaghetti bolognaise for dinner and slept for a few hours. Now I’m up blogging and chatting to different people through SNS. I have to get up early tomorrow to do a health check for my new Chinese work visa for this year.I hope everything goes well at the hospital since my Mandarin is still pretty shite. I hope I can get enough rest and hopefully take another nap tomorrow when I get back from the hospital. 

What? 

I have a month to myself before I visit my family in South Africa. I’m definitely going to celebrate that fact by catching up on sleep, my ever elusive friend. 

I’m a bit too tired to type up more of my new story now, but I broke my 7-year streak of not writing fanfics at work this week. So in-between cleaning out my work cupboard and cleaning my work desk, I typed up my Cat and Robbie romance, tee hee. 

Alright, time for bed. Sleep and peaceful thoughts are coming to me more easily these days now that I’m moving on gradually from all the bad shit that happened in 2019. 

For now, things are good :-)

[olicitysecretsanta]

The Personal Shopper (Olicity Holiday)

Merry Christmas to @bifelicitys! I am your Secret Olicity Santa. I hope that you enjoy this romantic little story for the holiday! 

The Personal Shopper

Felicity Smoak loved this job. Okay, technically, it wasn’t her job-job. It was her side hustle. Everybody she knew had one - an extra means of income - usually independent in nature - that she could use to make money on her off time from being a cyber-security expert at Merlyn Global in Starling City. The money was good, the work was ridiculously easy, and it was helping her to send extra cash to help her mom pay off her home in Vegas. It also helped to keep her busy and totally not thinking about how spending the holidays in a new city could make her feel a little alone. She had moved to town six months prior. 

When Felicity first learned that personal shopping was an actual job, she scoffed. The idea that people paid you to shop for them sounded extravagant and, well, lazy. At first, she only purchased and set up computer systems for Luddites, people who either didn’t understand tech or were legitimately afraid of it. But last month, the agency that placed her asked her to branch out into other shopping tasks. This was how she found herself buying Christmas gifts for a very busy, very wealthy CEO. Initially, she had set up his home office and apparently he was so impressed, he asked the agency to hire her for the purchase of a slew of Christmas gifts for his friends of loved ones. 

Felicity was surprised when she learned of the request. She had only exchanged a handful of emails and texts with Oliver Queen — that was his name — until that point. Of course, she knew she had good taste, a great intuition about what items were suitable, and perhaps most of all, the resourcefulness to find whatever was the right fit, no matter how difficult, but she certainly didn’t expect him to appreciate that that. But he did. 

Since she had become his personal shopper, things with the businessman and Felicity had subtly shifted and there was more of a dialogue taking place between them. The emails were more frequent. There had been…texting. When he liked one of her suggestions, he always responded with text or an enthusiastic emoji. A target with an arrow sticking out of it meant she had nailed it. A goat meant the idea was exceptional. Once he had sent her a heart eyes emoji and then spent three texts explaining that his thumb had slipped and apologizing. That made her chortle for a full five minutes. The idea that a CEO would send her a text with heart eyes in it was hilarious. She had Googled him and knew that he was both handsome and notoriously single. It was best not to get infatuated with that sort of man. Still, Felicity looked forward to their exchanges. Realizing that her holiday duties would be wrapping up soon, she could not help feeling a bit sad. 

On this particular Saturday morning, just days away from Christmas, Felicity entered the security code to a penthouse in what she considered the “fancy-schmancy” district of Starling. A green light on the panel signaled success. She turned the handle on a large wooden door and it swung open easily. On the other side, the clean lines, leather upholstery and muted tones of the apartment that screamed “luxurious bachelor pad.” There were a few paintings and a couple of furry pillows on a sofa, but no hint of personal decorations upon first glance. Normally this didn’t bother Felicity, but on this day it struck her that there was no hint of a holiday going on in the place. 

Really, Oliver? No cheer? There was no evidence around the place, despite its beautiful furnishings, that he was celebrating Christmas. It was all grey and natural, but lacked color and, well, personality. Why didn’t he have a wreath on the front door or one of those Charlie Brown trees on a side table? It made Felicity shake her head.  

The IT specialist/cyber security expert was dressed down today in yoga pants and an oversized green sweater, well aware she wouldn’t see anyone and, more importantly, no one would see her. She removed the messenger bag slung over her shoulder and slipped out of her fluffy winter coat, setting them both on stools by the breakfast bar of the kitchen island. Her boots came off next, leaving her feet covered in a pair of festive Hanukkah socks. Her grandma always kept her flush in themed hosiery. It was their thing. 

Felicity had visited this apartment so many times, she had developed rituals. After leaving her footwear resting by the door, she headed to the wall of windows on the far end of the open living space. They showcased Starling City.. She stood near the glass and hugged herself against a slight draught. The brief chill was worth it for the view. It was a cold, but clear day and she could see for miles, even beyond the city.

When her reverie was done, she went to the stove and filled the stainless steel kettle that always rested on the gas burner. Early instructions on working in the empty apartment had encouraged her to make use of the kitchen, as needed. She did so gratefully. After sourcing a tea bag and a mug from the cabinets, she walked to the dining table and approached the laptop and a note that was left for her. The purchases were all made on Oliver’s laptop, which had his banking attached. It was easier that way and Felicity enjoyed working in the space, far from her small apartment and her tiny office at Merlyn Global. She also found it funny that she was tasked to work on a computer she had initially set up for the man.

Felicity had yet to cross paths with the man himself. It seemed that Oliver Queen was always out of town, or at a work event, or some gala. It had become a source of comedy, actually, how they passed without meeting. Consequently, there was always a typed note with instructions, presumably produced and placed on his dining table by his executive assistant. She had nicknamed the note-fairy “Godfrey” (although she was well aware the woman’s name was Louise) and wondered what it was like to be the sort of assistant who had to go to their boss’s apartment to deliver notes. She read an article that said CEOs sometimes had assistants do their packing.  Godfrey have to pack for the man? Check the wine stash to see if any bottles were missing? (For the record, Felicity had examined the wine cabinet and even Googled a few of the labels out of curiosity, but she would never help herself to something. That was simply not right.)

Something else was not right today. The note. It was handwritten. A confident print with occasional script flourishes mixed in. Still, a man’s hand. 

Dear Felicity,

First, thank you so much for everything you have done over the last months. I have appreciated your expertise more than I can say. You have done such a wonderful job sourcing gifts. It felt at times like you read my mind. 

Felicity couldn’t help but smile. She felt appreciated. It had hardly felt like work to find gifts for Oliver Queen’s close friends and family members, but she liked the acknowledgment. That was something she didn’t get at her regular job.  

I know that my mother is going to love the arrangement you made for the exhibit at the Starling Museum. Her friends at the garden club will be absolutely livid with jealousy and that will be like a second gift to her. 

She nodded. The museum sponsorship had Moira Queen written all over it. Felicity got the idea when she saw a picture of the woman standing in front of a painting in an old issue of Architectural Digest. Did they really have an actual Monet in their actual house? She would have to ask sometime. Yeah, sure. 

Dad will really enjoy the new turntable and the box set of Rolling Stones records (and they will make Mom crazy). We might need to think about head phones. 

She giggled. It had not been her intention to create friction at the Queen Mansion, but when her research revealed that the retired business leader had been in a Stones cover band in college, it just felt right. Now she imagined Robert Queen strutting around his library like Mick Jagger and it made her extremely happy. The man deserved a little rock and roll in his life. 

That amazing bottle of scotch is probably more than my best friend deserves, but it is Christmas. I’m not sure how you found it, but you are quite remarkable. He is going to owe me big time. 

The bottle of Macallan for Tommy Merlyn required a bit of horse trading with a liquor dealer in Coast City and thirty minutes of free advice on the topic of secure point of sale systems. It was worth it and she was victorious. Now, she found it rather funny that she had helped arrange a gift for her boss’s son.  

The Lieber bag you picked out for Thea is perfect for her collection. Thank you for figuring out which one she wanted. 

She wondered if Oliver knew that his baby sister, Thea Queen, was an a-plus operator. As soon as Felicity started digging around to figure out a good gift for the young fashion student, Thea herself reached out and gave her several excellent suggestions and sources for the perfect treat. 

All of the other gifts — the Disney package for the Diggles, the wallet for Walter Steele and the treats for the Board, were, again perfect. I am sure that my assistant is going to be very pleased with the cashmere wrap (and a hefty bonus). 

Felicity knew that wrap was very, very nice. She just couldn’t imagine Godfrey wearing it. Well, she honestly couldn’t imagine Godfrey, period. And she liked it that way. Some mysteries were best left alone - as long as they weren’t technological. 

One the subject of bonuses, please see the envelope (just between us) and accept it with my sincere thanks. You are obviously a clever, observant and nice person. I have enjoyed our messaging back and forth very much during this stressful end of year. You have made me laugh and, well…thank you. O

Felicity blushed a little from the complements and then noticed the aforementioned envelope. She looked inside and her eyes bugged out when she saw the amount. It was too generous. 

She pushed away from the table and stood up, feeling the need to pace. She never expected any kind of gesture like this from a client and she didn’t know how to respond. Should she refuse it and risk offending him? Her brain was clouding up with ethical concerns. Finally, she grabbed her phone and found the familiar contact in her messaging program. 

FS: You are too generous.

A few moments passed. Then she saw dots pulsing on the screen. 

OQ: Not at all. You deserve it. You saved Christmas for me with my family. That means a lot. 

FS: I do appreciate it. Thank you. 

OQ: Are you headed out of town to visit your Mom for the holidays?

Felicity smiled. It was funny how much information had been shared in both directions while doing this job. Of course, it had been necessary to learn about Oliver in order to pick out appropriate gifts, but revealing information about herself had just happened naturally as they exchanged messages. 

FS: No. She is going to Reno with her cousin. It’s a non-stop party with those two through New Years. They wear me out. 

Oliver responded with a celebrating emoji and a smiley face. 

FS: Are you going to be traveling for business through Christmas?

OQ: No, I actually got back last night. 

An alarm bell went off in Felicity’s head at the same time the tea pot whistled. She nearly jumped out of her chair.

FS: You’re here? 

OQ: At my parents through lunch. Tonight there’s a Christmas gala for…something. I’ll be by later to get my tux. 

Felicity breathed a sigh of relief and headed to pour the water in the cup, phone still in hand.  

OQ: Just relax and have that cup of tea. 

She stopped and looked around the kitchen. 

FS: How did you know I’m making tea at your place? Did you get cameras?

OQ: Creepy. No. I could never something like that past a security expert like you. I do get a notification when the alarm is disabled. Remember? You told me to set that up months ago. 

Felicity smirked and submerged the tea bag in the bubbling cup. 

FS: Very good. But that doesn’t explain how you know I’m making a cup of tea. 

OQ: Every time I come home when you’ve been there, the only trash you leave behind is tea-related. 

FS: That’s very observant of you, Mr. Holmes. 

OQ: Thank you, Watson. 

FS: But maybe the tea drinker is Godfrey. 

A laughing emoji was the response. 

OQ: That nickname. 

FS: Not on-point?

OQ: Eerily accurate. Louise is a gem though. 

FS: She must be to go through your unmentionables.

OQ: What???

FS: I read that some CEOs have their assistants pack for them. 

OQ: That’s just wrong. I must admit, I do get a lot of help to manage my life, but I would never ask someone to do that.  

FS: Good. I didn’t think you would be that kind of boss. 

Felicity curled up on the sectional with her cup of tea. A handy throw within arm’s reach was pulled across her lap. 

OQ: There was that one time though. 

Felicity quirked an eyebrow and sent a similar emoji. 

OQ: I had a business trip to Washington, DC and it got extended from two days to five. Louise had underwear and socks delivered to me. New. From Amazon. Totally unsolicited. 

FS: So, she never touched your actual drawers then?  

OQ: No drawers…of any kind. Ever. Jesus. I do have to make eye contact with her sometimes.

Felicity giggled into her cup and took a sip. 

FS: I just realized, I am pulling you away from holiday merrymaking with your family. Decking the halls and such.

OQ: We don’t actually do that. Mother has the staff decorate. This year’s theme is silver and angst. 

A chuckle erupted from the blonde. 

FS: Don’t you miss putting up your tree?

OQ: Maybe a little. But I travel so much. I’m not around to pitch in anyway. 

Felicity felt the conversation mood slipping. Even though she knew she should end it, she didn’t it to be on a sad note. 

FS: My mother decorated a tree entirely with tacky earrings one year. That was special. 

OQ: Aren’t you Jewish? 

FS: My mother likes to decorate. Christian holidays have been appropriated. And she has A LOT of earrings. Another year we made ornaments out of aluminum foil.

OQ: That sounds very special. 

FS: We Smoaks are resourceful. 

OQ: You are a lot of things, Felicity. Very remarkable. 

FS: Thank you for remarking on it. So, you have a gala tonight. What’s it for? 

OQ: A worthwhile cause. 

FS: You don’t know, do you?

OQ: Nope. 

FS: But you’ll still show up looking pretty, right? 

Felicity pressed send before she thought about it. She grimaced. That was a much too flippant thing to say to Oliver Queen, her client. She really needed to work on her babbling via text. After a moment or two, there was a response. 

It was a blushing emoji.  

FS: I think I should probably leave you to your day. 

OQ: No problem. I do need to go to brunch. Have a great Saturday. And thank you again. 

The end of Oliver’s text was filled with all manner of silly emojis. A snowman. Eyeballs. A scarf. A unicorn. 

What a nice man, she thought. And a generous one - to friends, family, and colleagues. 

Suddenly, Felicity wanted to do something nice for Oliver Queen. Maybe it was crazy, but she would try. She just didn’t have a lot of time. 

>>—> 

It was mid-afternoon when Oliver emerged from the elevator to the penthouse floor of his building carrying a sack of leftovers from his parents’ house. The housekeeper, Raisa, never let him leave empty-handed. He probably would have come home a little later, but he was intrigued. His security system had been disengaged two hours earlier with the code he had provided to Felicity Smoak and it had not been reset. Curiosity pulled at him and he was just a little worried that she might not be okay. 

He had left the note and check early that morning, wanting to be sure she had a nice holiday and knew how much she was appreciated, but as the day had worn on with activities at the mansion, he had really only been thinking of her and their texts. 

As soon as he crossed the threshold, Oliver was struck by the smell of cinnamon and pine. Over near the window, he caught sight of her - a petite blonde with her back to him, reaching up to put a paper snowflake on a sizable Christmas tree. She was adorable from the back, her pony tail swishing back and forth.  And when she lifted her arms, the sweater she was wearing revealed a rather tantalizing yoga pant situation. He had Googled her months ago when he decided to give her access to his home, so he knew how attractive she was, on top of being an exceptionally gifted tech genius. It still burned him that Merlyn had hired her before she was on QC’s radar. But maybe things worked out the way they were supposed to. 

Rather than startle her, he just stood and marveled at the room. There were boughs of holly and sprigs of greenery placed carefully around the room. Candles (the battery-operated ones that looked pretty authentic from a distance) flickered on tables. She had obviously worked fast. His apartment looked like an actual home today - not just an extension of his office or a hotel suite. He wanted to smile, but guarded his features, waiting for the woman to turn to face him. 

When she did, she took his breath away, just a little. Her glasses had slipped down her nose and she gasped at his sudden appearance. 

“Oliver. I mean, Mister Queen. I’m…” Felicity grimaced, suddenly realizing that this spontaneous idea might not be welcome and she had majorly overstepped. Perhaps the man didn’t want all of this holiday nonsense cluttering up his streamlined existence. 

He liked her voice. It was feminine and he wanted to hear more of it. 

“You’ve been busy,” he deadpanned. 

“I just thought,” Felicity stammered as she moved to collect the paper snowflakes she was cutting at the dining table, “you might enjoy some cheer in your home. I am so sorry I intruded. I can come back later when you aren’t home and clear it away.” She wasn’t making eye contact now. 

“Felicity,” Oliver sighed her name for the first time. It felt nice on his lips. “Felicity,” he repeated, finally causing her to stop and look at him. “You will do no such thing.” 

“No?” 

“This is the absolute best present I have gotten in a long time,” he spoke warmly and approached her at the table. 

She bit her lip and looked away, her fingers worrying at a snowflake so much that it was becoming confetti on the floor. 

“It wasn’t a big deal, I…”

“I don’t mean mean the decorations. I mean you,” he stepped closer to her and touched her elbow gently. Felicity looked up at him, breathless. He really was a looker, as her grandma would say. She swallowed hard and swore not to say anything ridiculous for as long as possible. 

Oliver got lost in her blue eyes and stopped speaking, then suddenly realized what he had just said. It sounded kind of overbearing. “Not…not that you’re my present,” he actually stammered. “I mean, your friendship. Meeting you has been such an unexpected gift these last months. Do you understand?” Oliver’s voice was barely a whisper as he studied her face for a response. 

The blonde had to escape his intense gaze, so she looked down at her Hanukkah socks and flexed her toes. Oh geez, she was wearing crazy socks in front of this beautiful man. It suddenly occurred to her that he didn’t care. Felicity blinked and a smile erupted across her sweet face. “Well, technically, we haven’t met yet.” 

“Holy shit, you’re right.” The tall man threw his head back with a chuckle. Then he gathered himself as he would before a business meeting. He stepped back and bowed his head slightly. 

“Hello. My name is Oliver,” He stalled, then, to make it clear that he was not his father. “Oliver Queen. I am an over-scheduled businessman who is completely reliant on other people to do basically everything for him.” He offered his hand to her, quite formally. 

Felicity stood a little straighter and reached out to meet his hand with hers. “Hello. I’m Felicity Smoak MIT Class of Oh-Nine and I am occasionally nosey and completely inappropriate.” 

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Felicity.” 

“Oliver.” She said his name and it sounded sweet to his ears. She grinned afterwards because she liked the sound of it too. 

“Felicity, if you aren’t busy tonight, could you stay and help me decorate this tree? Have dinner?”

“Sure. But you have a thing. A gala thing tonight.” She tried not to look disappointed. 

Oliver thought about the situation for a moment and then pulled his phone out of his pocket. His expression encouraged her to wait while he attended to something. He drafted a text and hit send. Then he waited. 

“I like your socks,” he said idly. He liked everything about Felicity Smoak, actually, but it was a little early to share that. 

“Thank you,” she brightened. “A present from my grandma.”

“Have I mentioned how extraordinary you are, Felicity Smoak?”

“Not in the past ninety seconds.” 

There was then a ping on Oliver’s phone. He looked down at the screen and grinned. He sent another text back. There was a reply. And then another exchange. When it all ended, Oliver breathed a cleansing breath and looked more relaxed. 

“What is it? What just happened?” Felicity couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer. 

Oliver turned the phone to show her the conversation. Felicity moved closer and leaned in to read the screen. 

OQ: I need you to do the gala thing tonight in my place. 

TMerlyn: What’s it for?

OQ: A worthy cause.

TMerlyn: You always say that. 

OQ: it’s always true. 

TMerlyn: Why me? Or should I say, why not you? 

OQ: I am decorating my apartment tonight with my new friend.  And you owe me.

TMerlyn: Thank God, you old hermit. Is she pretty? Does she have a friend. Hey, how do I owe you? 

OQ: You will when you see your Xmas present. 

TMerlyn: It better be good, Ollie. And you better send a nice donation to the worthy cause. 

OQ: Will do. Night Tommy. 

Felicity’s heart was beating, being this close to Oliver and having witnessed his private conversation. He wanted to get to know her better. She shivered a little at the prospect. 

“I am suddenly free.” He looked down at her, nearly a head shorter than him and beamed. His eyebrow quirked with an unanswered question. 

“Well, since you are free, I guess it’s good that I am as well.”

“Yay,” he cheered, just loud enough for her to hear. 

“You know, you really need to slow down and take more time for yourself, Oliver.”

“I absolutely agree. And that starts tonight. You could show me how to make these snowflakes for the tree.” 

Oliver took her hand and led her back toward the tree. He didn’t let go and hoped she wouldn’t mind/didn’t notice. 

“Oh, I don’t know. That’s pretty advanced. Do you think you’re ready?”

“Maybe you’re right. I should work my way up to paper crafts.” Oliver looked from her to the tree and sported a playful grin. Next to him, her voice piped up. It was becoming his favorite voice. 

“Right. So, Oliver, do you have any aluminum foil?”

The End

and

Merry Christmas!

[orbemnews]

China Wants to Boost Births. But It’s Wary of Losing Control. When Fan Jianhua had her third daughter last April, she was afraid that she would be fined for violating China’s birth limits. Ms. Fan was already heavily in debt paying for treatment for her 6-year-old, who has leukemia. To her relief, when she registered her new baby with the police, she didn’t have to pay the $7,500 fine. “I was really happy and could finally relax,” said Ms. Fan, 34, a stay-at-home mother in the central city of Danjiangkou, in Hubei Province. Slowly, in fits and starts, China’s ruling Communist Party is loosening its long-held restrictions over childbirth and women’s bodies. Some local governments have tacitly allowed couples to have more than two children. Beijing has said civil servants will no longer be fired for such infringements. Party leaders have pledged to make population policies more inclusive, a signal that some have taken to mean the rules will be eased further. A growing number of voices in China, including lawmakers, scholars and officials, have urged the government to abolish birth restrictions. The party needs to take more aggressive action if it wants to reverse a precipitous decline in birthrates. A once-a-decade population census, released on Tuesday, showed that the number of births last year fell to the lowest since the Mao era. Low fertility translates to fewer workers and weaker demand, which could stunt growth in the world’s second-largest economy. But the party is wary of giving up control and has resisted scrapping birth restrictions wholesale. Instead, Beijing has been taking a piecemeal approach by slowly dismantling the once-powerful family-planning bureaucracy and carving out exemptions. In many places, police officers, employers and city officials are deciding how strictly, or loosely, to enforce the rules. That can mean more freedom for some, like Ms. Fan, to have more children. But it also creates uncertainty about the risks, adding to a reluctance about having more children. The strategy could also founder amid broad cultural changes. Anxiety over the rising cost of education, housing and health care is now deeply ingrained in society. Many Chinese simply prefer smaller families, and the government’s efforts to boost the birthrate, including introducing a two-child policy in 2016, have largely fizzled. “If the restrictions on family planning are not lifted, and they are encouraging births at the same time, this is self-contradictory,” said Huang Wenzheng, a demography expert with the Center for China and Globalization, a Beijing-based research center. He said that removing all birth limits would convey an important message. “I think such a step has to be taken.” Since it imposed the one-child policy in 1980, Beijing has maintained among the world’s harshest restrictions on procreation. That gave the national family-planning commission a powerful hold over the most intimate aspects of people’s lives, exacting fines from couples and urging — sometimes forcing — women to have abortions or be sterilized. When Chen Huayun, 33, was little, officials in her hometown in the eastern province of Jiangxi checked the laundry lines of houses for baby clothes, she said. Ms. Chen’s parents, who were civil servants, hid her or sent her to stay with her grandparents during the school holidays because she was their second child. “This was considered an illicit birth, and it was never spoken publicly of, so they were not fined,” she said. “It was only when they retired that their colleagues knew that I existed.” As it became clear that China’s society was rapidly aging, official murmurs about a reconsideration of the one-child policy surfaced but were quickly dismissed. It took years before the government moved to allow all couples to have two children. Now, the population is aging more rapidly than those of many developed countries, including the United States, and some argue that the government cannot afford to keep any restrictions on procreation. “We have to take advantage of the fact that a certain number of residents now are willing to give birth but aren’t allowed to,” China’s central bank said in a working paper it published on April 14. “If we wait to lift it when no one wants to give birth, it will be useless.” People of working age would make up 60 percent of China’s population in 2050, it predicted, down from three-quarters in 2010, a decline that would hurt the country’s productivity. Today in Business Updated  May 11, 2021, 1:13 p.m. ET Beijing has sought to show that it is listening. “The total fertility rate has fallen below the warning line, and population development has entered a critical transition period,” wrote Li Jiheng, the civil affairs minister, in December. He said the government would make child-care and education more affordable. And in January, the party-controlled national legislature urged local governments to stop imposing “excessively severe penalties” for the violation of birth limits. Beijing’s reluctance to abandon birth restrictions stems in part from the view that not all Chinese people can be trusted to know how many children they should have. “We found in some impoverished areas in the west that people are still obsessed with having more children,” Yuan Xin, vice president of the state-backed China Population Association, told the official China Daily newspaper. “So a more relaxed family-planning policy may mean more children for them and make it more difficult for them to escape poverty.” In China’s far western region of Xinjiang, the authorities have more harshly enforced family-planning rules in what Beijing has depicted as a fight against religious extremism. The campaign has led in recent years to a rise in sterilizations and contraceptive procedures — forcibly imposed in some cases — in the region’s Muslim-dominated areas. China’s family-planning policy has long given local officials a powerful weapon of control — one that may be hard, or costly, to wrest back. Before they were unwound, family-planning agencies hired around eight million people, down to the village level, who corralled women to be fitted with intrauterine devices or coerced them into abortions. The officials also collected large fines from couples who broke the rules. One senior researcher at the Central Party School estimated in 2015 that the fees amounted to between $3 billion and $5 billion annually. In recent years, the government has been reassigning family-planning employees to roles including in population research and tackling Covid-19. But local governments retain the power to enforce birth limits as they see fit, which has led to inconsistencies. The central government said in May last year that civil servants did not have to lose their jobs for violating birth limits, yet months later, a village committee in the eastern city of Hangzhou fired a woman after she had a third child — prompting a public outcry. Ultimately, the fate of China’s family-planning policies may change little. A generation of highly educated women are putting off marriage and childbirth for other reasons, including a rejection of traditional attitudes that dictate women should bear most of the responsibility of raising children and doing housework. Liu Qing, a 38-year-old editor of children’s books in Beijing, said getting married and having children were never in her future because they would come at too great a personal cost. “All the things that you want — your ideals and your ambitions — have to be sacrificed,” Ms. Liu said. Ms. Liu said Chinese society imposed a motherhood penalty on women, pointing to the discrimination that mothers often faced in hiring. “I’m furious about this environment,” she said. “I’m not the kind of person who would accept this reality and compromise. I just won’t.” For other Chinese, having fewer children is a matter of necessity when holes in the country’s social safety net mean that a major illness can lead to financial ruin. Ms. Fan, the woman in Hubei who was spared a fine, said that she and her husband, a laborer, were getting increasingly desperate. Public health insurance had covered half the cost of her daughter’s treatment for leukemia, but they were on the hook for $76,000. She had a third child only because she heard that a sibling’s cord blood could help in the treatment of leukemia. But she later learned that such treatment would cost more than $100,000. “I don’t dare think about the future,” Ms. Fan said. She added that if her daughter’s condition deteriorated or they went broke, they would have to give up treatment. “We can only leave it up to her fate,” she said. Research was contributed by Claire Fu, Liu Yi, Albee Zhang and Elsie Chen. Source link Orbem News #births #boost #China #Control #Losing #Wary

[sad-trash-writing]

Can you do something “Who’s The Hero Of Your Story” related. I kinda want to see Daisy average life while she was juggling being Daisy Johnson and Quake. Fighting Quinn, Raina, and Garrett before Jemma came along

AO3 Link 

This turned into a massive fic so beware that it’s 10,000 words long  Enjoy!

The obnoxious beeping of the alarm clock jolted Daisy awake far too early. She groaned and pulled a pillow over her head. She had known she would regret staying out late last night when she had to work the next morning, but it was important. 

She slapped a hand down on where she thought the alarm clock was, but her hand just slapped uselessly on the nightstand. She felt around for any sign of the damned contraption, but couldn’t seem to locate it. 

That’s when she remembered she moved it across the room to motivate herself to get out of bed. Daisy groaned again, even louder. She peeked out from under the pillow and saw it on the corner of the dresser. 

She threw out a hand and quaked it, just hard enough to make it shut up. 

It exploded in a pathetic squeak of plastic shrapnel. Great, now she would have to clean that up and buy a new alarm clock. 

She rolled to an upright position. If the alarm had gone off that meant it was about 4 am. Two hours of sleep wasn’t the worst night she’d had, but it wasn’t great either. The sun hadn’t even started to rise over the horizon yet, which made Daisy feel like she hadn’t even slept. 

She yawned and started her daily routine of applying her disguise. 

Everyday that Daisy had to apply the heavy makeup and a wig just to go about her daily life, she regretted not just wearing a mask. All the other famous superheroes wore masks when they ran around their city saving people, why didn’t she?

She rubbed on another layer of black, if only to draw attention from the dark circles under her eyes. Of all the things S.H.I.E.L.D. included in her tactical suit (which she stole when she went AWOL) a mask was not one of them. Once she first went public, there was no going back. 

Honestly, she spent more time in her superhero attire than out of it. The coffee-shop barista persona felt like more of a secret identity than Quake ever did.

  She finished pinning her long, black wig in place and took one last look at herself. Sure, it wasn’t the best secret identity, but no one in the coffee shop ever looked at her long enough to recognize her from her nighttime activities. She grabbed her keys and headed out the door, for another long day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“—And a double shot of espresso with a flavor shot of hazelnut, two pumps of caramel, half a pump of almond—”

Daisy’s eyes glazed over halfway through this guy’s order. She zoned out long enough that she missed the last two shots he wanted added to his drink and just punched another two hazelnuts in there. Hopefully the amount of sugar would keep him from noticing the difference.

Once she gave him his total, he held out a pile of gift cards and Daisy had to use every ounce of self-control not to quake him out the window. 

“Daisy, your turn for lunch break,” her manager called. 

“Oh, thank god,” she muttered. She finished swiping the last of the man’s 45 cent gift cards, practically threw the receipt at him, and headed to the back to clock out for her break. 

She flopped into the one rickety table in the break room, plugged in her headphones and unwrapped her sandwich. Once she was comfortably settled, she switched her radio app to the frequency of the police scanners. 

To anyone who walked in, she looked like she was just listening to music on her break. In reality, she was monitoring the city for anything that might need superhero intervention. 

Thankfully, there was nothing yet. Just a few minor traffic offenses, some bickering neighbors that needed to be calmed, and a kid who got his head stuck in a banister. Nothing that the regular cops couldn’t handle. 

It seemed all the major plots and crimes were committed after normal working hours, which Daisy could appreciate. She supposed that the Big Three in this city had to keep up appearances with their work at the university or they would blow their covers (not that most of the city didn’t already know their ‘secret identities’). 

Summer and bank holidays were another story, which always sucked because Daisy usually had to work those and juggle time off to stop the bad guys. It was exhausting. 

Daisy’s half hour lunch was up, so she flipped the radio off and headed back into the fray to relieve her coworker. 

The afternoon was much slower. There was a fast food place next door, so very few people came in to the coffee shop to get their lunch. It was great to have some downtime, but it left Daisy leaning on the counter and watching the news on the TV across the room. She was only half listening when a story caught her attention. 

“—Ian Quinn, the city’s biggest philanthropist, announced today that he is setting up a new doctorate program at the university to encourage further education in the sciences,” the anchor said, while a picture of Quinn’s smug face hovered beside her. “The program will focus on biochemical engineering and will be fully funded, so positions will be highly competitive. Reporting from the University—”

Daisy scowled at the news. Her manager was leaning on the other end of the counter watching the story and made a ‘how about that’ noise. Daisy glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow. 

“You know, with all his money, he could be doing anything he wanted, but he keeps funding scholarships,” he pointed out. 

“Yeah, because he wants to get smart people to do stuff for him,” Daisy scoffed. 

“Come on, how can you hate a guy who’s that good?”

“Because he’s evil?” Daisy countered. 

Her manager scoffed and wandered off, mumbling something about 'crazy millennials thinking everyone with money is evil.’

Daisy rolled her eyes. The half of the population that didn’t know Quinn, Raina, and Garrett were actually the city’s resident super villains were in fierce denial that they could be evil and were convinced that everyone who thought they were was delusional conspiracy theorists. Daisy had long ago given up trying to convince them with words. She just needed to give them actual proof. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daisy perched on the edge of the rooftop, absentmindedly flipping through all the apps she used to monitor the city on her phone. The police scanner continually rambled staticky codewords into her ears, while she flicked through security feeds of nearly every important building in the city. Nothing had come up yet, so it seemed like it might be a slow night. 

She leaned back and looked down on the towering buildings of downtown. The lights from the windows of people working late in the offices or just getting home to their apartments glittered off the steel frames of each high-rise. 

Daisy yawned and tried to pay attention to what she was supposed to be doing. It was getting hard to keep her eyes open and it was only the beginning of the night. 

The chirp of her text tone interrupted the drawl of the policemen in her ears. She frowned and opened the message. 

It was Coulson.

There’s a situation in Siberia that we could use you on. 

Daisy sighed. Coulson still wasn’t willing to accept that she couldn’t leave until she had wrapped things up with the Three. They all seemed to have a personal vendetta against her and she she had yet to work out why, but she needed to stop whatever their overarching world domination plans were first. 

I can’t come back yet. Still working, Daisy replied. 

We’re here for backup if you need it.

Daisy smiled and felt tears welling up in her eyes. Even though she had left S.H.I.E.L.D. without explanation, they were still willing to go to bat for her. The universe decided to rudely interrupt her reminiscing with a blaring siren from her phone. Daisy quickly flipped through all the security schematics she had up and found the one that was causing the fuss: it was a high-level science research lab on the other side of town. 

Given the amount of security clearance required for that floor and the sensitive information held there, Daisy had a guess on which three people had caused it. She groaned and rolled backwards off the ledge. She wound up her headphones and shoved them with her phone and wallet into a small crevice on the roof. She had broken too many phones and lost too many sets of keys in the field to risk bringing them with her again. 

She took a running start and launched herself through the air onto the next rooftop. 

One of the things she most enjoyed about her powers was that she could fly. Well, what she did wasn’t exactly flying, but it was close enough. The wind whipped through her hair and she was surrounded by nothingness. When she felt herself descending, she pushed out another shockwave against the nearest roof below her and shot back into the sky. She tried to be as careful as she could to not damage the roofs she skipped over with her powers. She got enough negative PR as it was, she didn’t need to flatten every rooftop garden in the city as well. 

When she landed on the roof of the lab, however, she didn’t try to muffle it and even sent some extra vibrations through the frame of the building. She wanted them to know she was here and that she was annoyed.

Was it too much to ask for one night off?

She felt around for the spot that would cause the least amount of damage to the building, quaked a small hole through it, and crashed through the ceiling of the top floor. Now, she just needed to figure out where they were. 

She found the stairs and trudged down a few flights, peeking her head onto each floor to listen for signs of a break in. 

Eventually, from the stairwell, she heard a deep maniacal laugh. 

She audibly groaned. 

Garrett. Great.

Not only was he taking away valuable sleeping time with his incessant talking, but he was the most unstable of the trio and tended to be the most unpredictable. 

Also, encounters with him were the most destructive. 

She charged through the door into the hallway and braced herself to fight. 

“Ah, good. It’s our close friend, Quake,” Garrett said sarcastically. Most of the ceiling lights he had already shot out, so the majority of light was from the blue glow emanating from his cybernetic limbs. His arm-of-the-day wasn’t even a real arm, but just a huge gun that attached to his elbow that crackled with a blue electricity. In his normal hand, he held a box full of paper files. 

“Didn’t picture you to be someone to take out people’s recycling for them,” Daisy quipped gesturing to the box. “I guess it’s not true when they say criminals can’t change.”

“Oh, these. This lab likes to kick it old school and doesn’t keep digital files of their more secret work. It makes it very difficult to get any kind of file transfer, so I figured I’d stop in and pick 'em up myself,” Garrett replied. 

“Are the holes in the walls your way of signing in to the guest book?”

Garrett shrugged. “You know me. Sometimes I just like to break a few things. It’s the fun part of my job.”

Without warning, he raised his gun arm and fired at Daisy. 

The blast caught her off guard and knocked her down the hall while electricity radiated through her body. Daisy grimaced. She could feel her muscles involuntarily twitching for a few moments while she tried to catch her breath. 

That was a new feature. 

“Like that?” Garrett called from down the hall. “This baby is my new favorite toy.”

“It’s something else,” Daisy hissed through gritted teeth while she pushed herself back to her feet. 

“Well, I’d love to stay and chat some more, but I’ve got to be somewhere with these. Have a lovely night,” Garrett said, his voice dripping with glee at seeing Daisy on the ground. He turned on his heel and strolled down the hall towards the fire exit like he was going for a walk in the park. 

Daisy glared in his direction. Like hell was he getting away that easily. 

She pressed her palm to the floor and focused. A crack opened in the linoleum that zigzagged down the length of the hall and opened a hole right in front of Garrett’s feet. He skidded to stop before falling through it, unfortunately, but it gave Daisy a moment to get to her feet and knock the box out of his hands with a concentrated shockwave. 

Apparently, the electric shock from before was still working through Daisy’s body and the shockwave was a little less concentrated then intended and the files exploded all over the hallway. 

Garrett growled as he spun to face her, “Those were alphabetized!”

He raised his arm gun again and fired a series of smaller blasts. Daisy was expecting them this time and dodged them while she sprinted down the hall. Her powers were great, but sometimes a little hand-to-hand was therapeutic. Daisy jumped into the air and pushed some quake energy behind her fist that she threw into Garrett’s face. 

He stumbled back with the force of her blow. That was a new trick she had taught herself. She was definitely using that one again. 

While he was disoriented, she kicked at his good knee. He faltered, but managed to raise his mechanical arm to block Daisy’s next punch. She tried another angle, which he also blocked. 

Daisy managed to land a few small hits, but nothing slowed him down much and she knew from experience that he could hold out much longer in a physical fight than she could. Unless she managed to land a few more lucky hits, this could go on for some time. Since half of his limbs and organs were mechanical, he could keep blocking her punches for hours until she was too worn out to defend herself. 

She was already getting tired and sloppy. She left herself open on the left for a fraction of a second and Garrett took the opportunity to throw his weight behind a punch with his mechanical arm.

A gasp forced its way out of Daisy’s throat at the force and she skidded back a few feet. She was pretty sure she felt her heart stutter for a moment from that. It’d probably be a good idea to avoid getting hit like that again. 

Garrett raised his arm. Daisy could see the glow from it growing brighter and he seemed to be charging a bigger electric blast. 

Definitely want to avoid getting hit with that. 

Daisy had just enough time to throw her hands out in front of her and push out an equally powerful shield of vibrations. The two forces collided and Daisy was suddenly flying again. 

This wasn’t the fun kind of flying, like when she navigated the city. No, this was the 'rocketing backwards through nothingness and hoping you don’t end up impaled on a flagpole’ type of flying. She was grateful for the first lesson May taught her, though: how to take a fall. May had said, 'you only give yourself whiplash once,’ and she was not lying. This probably wasn’t the type of falling she had in mind though. 

Daisy’s back finally collided with something hard and sharp (not flagpole sharp, thankfully, but it wasn’t comfortable). The force knocked the wind out of her with a wheeze, but she was tucked in such a tight ball, she didn’t crack her head open at least. 

She was only still for a moment, before she started falling in a different direction. 

Even in her rattled state, Daisy could tell she was heading for the ground. She flung out her hands and quaked down in an attempt to cushion her fall. It was shakier than her usual landings, but she didn’t hit the ground at terminal velocity, anyway. 

She crumpled to the ground, cold concrete pressed into her face, and tried to take stock of her injuries. Everything ached for the moment, so it was hard to get a good reading. She gritted her teeth and pushed herself upright. She couldn’t lay on the sidewalk all night. 

She instantly regretted it. The thing she had crashed into was the skyscraper across the road from the laboratory. The slight shift in her posture told her she definitely had some glass shards piercing her back. That was nothing compared to the damage to the lab. 

She could tell from the outside which floor she and Garrett had been on. It looked like it had been hit with a bomb. The window Daisy had ben blasted out of was the epicenter of a massive circle of blown windows and bent scraps of metal, which were probably once the building’s supports, jutted out at all angles. 

Daisy could see from the ground the exposed wiring sending sparks into the black hole that was once a level of the building. Papers and other bits of singed shrapnel drifted through down onto the road, where some spectators had started to gather to gasp at the destruction. 

Daisy noticed some of them were wearing lab coats or security uniforms, so it seemed the building had already been evacuated. That was the standard procedure whenever the Big Three were involved; getting in their way only led to normal people getting hurt. 

Daisy saw a streak of blue dart from behind the building. She thought she was hallucinating for a moment, until she heard the helicopter fly overhead and could clearly see the glow from Garrett’s cybernetics coming from it. 

She raised a hand, ready to quake it out of the sky, but stopped herself. They had caused enough damage tonight. There would be another chance to take them down, and it’s not like they had gotten what they wanted anyway. 

Daisy pushed herself to her feet and hoped she could shuffle away from here without drawing any attention. 

“Look! It’s Quake!” a voice shouted. 

No such luck there. 

The crowd of spectators and news reporters quickly turned their attention from the destroyed building and converged on Daisy, the notorious Quake. 

Well, time to leave. 

Daisy spared a second to make sure no one was close enough to get caught in the blast and shot into the air as high as she could manage. As soon as her feet left the ground, all of her injuries made themselves known, but she kept pushing higher. Once out of sight of the cameras, she could land wherever and make her way home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After taking the longest way home possible and a pit stop to change into normal clothes, Daisy limped into her tiny apartment and threw the bag containing her tact suit in a corner. Even that stray movement stung. 

Daisy shuffled into her bathroom and started to fill the tub up with cold water. She grabbed a bottle of pain killers from the medicine cabinet and shook out a small handful and swallowed them dry. She pulled off her shirt, which was already starting to show small pinpricks of red along her back. Good thing she didn’t like this shirt much. 

With a tweezers and heavily gritted teeth, Daisy started painstakingly picking the pieces of glass out of her back. Luckily, most of them had gotten pulled out when she changed out of her suit, but a few stubborn ones were still in there. Once she was satisfied she got as many as she could, she headed into the living room, grabbed her tiny TV and slid it into the bathroom. 

She perched it in its usual place on the toilet and dumped the contents of her fridge’s ice maker into the now full tub. It wasn’t the best treatment, but it was the best she could do at the moment. 

She made sure she had a warm, fluffy towel next to the tub, flicked the news on the TV, stripped the rest of the way and lowered herself into the icy tub. 

Every second of gradually sliding into the cold water was torture. Not only was her body rejecting the sudden temperature change, but her exhausted muscles aggressively complained at the load of her body weight being put on them. Daisy hissed the entire way down and let out a sigh once she was fully submerged. 

Now that that particular torture was done, it was time for the next one: watching the news. She dried off her hand and turned up the volume on the TV. 

“—reporting from the SciTech building, where a reported break-in prompted the evacuation of all staff earlier tonight. Shortly after everyone was out of the building, an alleged explosion rocked the entire block, causing substantial damage to the building. Witnesses report seeing Quake, the known vigilante, fleeing the scene shortly after the explosion—”

“Really? No one saw the half-robot, glowing madman 'fleeing’ the scene?” Daisy grumbled at the TV. 

“—No word yet on what motive Quake may have had for the break-in or the explosion—”

Daisy gaped at the TV. “Excuse me?”

She angrily flicked over to the next station. This channel had its anchors and a guest speaker gathered around a table in the studio instead of in the field. Daisy recognized the guest as the grumpy old army general who every news station dragged in to trash talk Daisy. He was very vocal about not being a Daisy fan, even though they had worked together at S.H.I.E.L.D. before. 

“—have to wonder, why is no action being taken? Quake is a dangerous criminal capable of causing millions of dollars in damage at a whim. Best case, there should be a nationwide manhunt to root her out and, at the very least, an armed sniper on every rooftop in the city—” General Talbot said.

“Now, isn’t that a little extreme? Quake is the one who has been impeding the actions of the super villain trio for months. Don’t we owe her a little credit for that, even if her methods are a little messy?” the anchor replied. Daisy would thank him if she didn’t know for a fact that he was only playing devil’s advocate. He had frequently said similar things as Talbot online and only defended her when the network wanted to get Talbot incensed. 

“She’s a vigilante!” Talbot shouted, pounding on the table. 

And there he goes. 

Talbot continued to rant. “Stopping supervillains is what the police are supposed to do, which they can’t do if we have another superpowered lawbreaker flying in and bringing down buildings on their heads. If Quake would stay out of it for once, law enforcement could do their jobs—”

Daisy scowled and clicked to the next channel. As if the police has any chance of going up against Garrett and Raina. Quinn they could probably handle, but he typically stayed in the helicopter and looked smug. 

The reporter on the next channel tended to be a bit more on Daisy’s side, so Daisy was looking forward to what she had to say. The banner at the bottom of the screen read Quake: Savior or Menace? which was not wholly encouraging. 

“—the most recent incident at the SciTech laboratory damaged not only a multimillion dollar facility, but also destroyed thousands of irreplaceable, one-of-a-kind research documents. This leads us to ask, how should Quake be held accountable, when she is finally apprehended?”

Daisy groaned and slid deeper into the icy water. Quake was going to have to lie low for awhile to recover from this. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months had passed since the incident at the lab. Daisy refused to listen to the police scanners at night, or she would just want to suit up and jump into action. 

She knew better, though. She had to lay low for awhile until people forgot about her mistakes and only remembered the fact that she had saved their asses multiple times. Granted, this most recent one was a pretty large and expensive mistake to forget. 

At least now she had the free time to sleep at night. Not that she was actually sleeping, since every siren that drove by her window made her wonder what destruction her city was being subjected to now. 

Watching the news was a nightly struggle. Raina, Garrett, and Quinn were running rampant around the city in her absence. Daisy had lost count of the amount of break-ins they had committed in a few short months. Shortly after each, they would debut a new weapon or machine on the next excursion. 

The cops were already scrambling to do what they could and every time the police chief was interviewed, he looked more and more exhausted. Daisy had started pausing on his close ups and counting the gray hairs in his mustache, since it seemed like there were more every day. The spiteful part of Daisy wanted to watch the city fall into chaos without her to keep the trio in check.

The rational part of Daisy, however, was itching to suit up and quake them all into next week. 

She couldn’t sit around doing nothing, so she went back to what she did before she got her powers: she hacked. 

The minute Daisy got off work, she turned on the news in the background, sat down at her computer with a coffee beside her, and tapped away at her computer. She spent hours trawling through the deep web, looking for any kind of trail she could latch onto. She found the trio’s home addresses, high school yearbook photos, office hours at the university. Everything except something she could use. 

Her coffee would eventually get cold, sitting beside her untouched. Daisy thought she had a breakthrough when she hacked her way into the university’s security footage, but there were strategic blindspots in their offices and around some of the lesser used exits. At least Daisy knew where they were sneaking out now. 

Not that it helped. As much as Daisy wanted to barge into Raina’s office and smash her stupid face into her desk, she couldn’t risk it. The trio didn’t know her real name or secret identity, and she’d like to keep it that way. Raina always seemed to know more about Daisy’s past than she let on, but if she knew who Daisy really was, she would have definitely leaked it to the press by now. 

Daisy sighed. After weeks, she hadn’t found the paper trail she was hoping for that would show the trio’s shady bank history. She closed out of the windows full of code and just opened up the university’s website. 

It was a nice school. Daisy almost would have considered enrolling if she wasn’t hiding out from a secret spy organization she used to work for. And if the school wasn’t run by three super villains who wanted her dead. 

Daisy clicked through the website until she found each of their department’s home pages. The first thing that popped up was an article about how they had just signed on a new graduate student and the entire article was spent languishing about how great the trio was and how generous and blah blah blah. The poor student, who was studying some plant crap, was mentioned for about two lines before being overshadowed by her saintly advisors. 

Daisy clicked through each of the trio’s academic profiles, though they wouldn’t tell her anything new. She scowled at their smug faces on their headshots the whole time. 

One of the alarms on her phone went off and Daisy instinctually checked which one it was. 

It was a building near the university. The signal beeped just long enough for Daisy to see that all the exits were reading as compromised before they all shut off. 

Daisy frowned. That was weird. 

She opened up another browser and quickly hacked into the live satellite feed of the area. She quickly saw why the alarms had stopped going off. 

The building that was standing moments before was now a pile of rubble. Even on the zoomed out view from the satellite, Daisy could see the blue glow of Garrett’s cybernetic limbs and a helicopter parked nearby. There was some giant metal contraption that Garrett was standing beside, but Daisy couldn’t tell what it was. It appeared to be moving towards another building though. 

Daisy gritted her teeth and glanced toward her closet, where her tactical suit was safely stored. She knew she shouldn’t go out in the field yet. Especially when there was a giant building-leveling machine at play, that she could easily be blamed for. 

She couldn’t just sit around while they destroyed a whole neighborhood. Daisy shot off the couch and towards the closet. Within moments, she was suited up and rocketing out the window. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wind whistled through Daisy’s hair as she tried to made as stealthy a landing as possible. She touched down a few blocks from the collapsed building the trio was near last and jogged closer through the alleys. As she got closer, she could hear them bickering back and forth, but she was still too far to hear what they were saying. She edged closer, sticking to the shadows. 

“—just supposed to be a test. Now that we know it works, we need to pack it up and hide it before we get noticed,” Daisy heard Raina hiss. 

“Come on, we’ve been working on this baby for months,” Garrett protested. “Let me play with it a bit longer.”

Daisy peeked around the corner. Raina was in her black crime-committing attire, but otherwise looked completely normal; no thorns, just hair and skin. Garrett was sporting his high-tech limbs, as usual, and Quinn just looked like he made a wrong turn on his way to a masquerade fundraising gala. 

Raina’s crossed arms and impatiently tapping foot made Daisy think she was lucky to get here when she did. Any later and the trio might have already been gone and left a huge mess for Daisy to explain to the authorities. 

Daisy slipped her phone out of her pocket and opened up the camera. This could be her one chance to catch them in the act. All she needed was one picture to send to the press and the secret would be out. 

And in her haste to snap the picture she forgot to turn off the shutter sound on her phone. That one tiny click was all it took to silence the trio. 

Daisy ducked back behind the wall before they could see her, but she knew it was too late. 

“It appears your 'playing’ has already attracted some unwanted attention,” Raina drawled. 

Daisy launched herself into the air, anticipating their next move. She was clear from the building a split second before Garrett blasted a hole through it. Her phone slipped out of her hand and she grappled to save it while keeping herself airborne. 

“No no no!” Daisy cursed. She watched the phone tumble to the ground and saw the pieces shatter in a thousand directions when it hit. Great. Not only was that her evidence to get the trio locked up, it was also going to take about a week to get all her tracking apps reprogrammed onto a new one. 

Not to mention, she couldn’t afford a new phone and rent this month. Fantastic. Daisy lowered herself to the ground where the trio was waiting. The massive machine they were 'playing’ with whirred lowly behind them. Garrett noticed Daisy’s attention to the machine, squared up in front of it, and pointed his gun arm at her.

“No!” Raina interjected. “You and Quinn get the machine out of here before anything happens to it. I’ll take care of Quake.”

In the few moments that Daisy wasn’t paying attention to Raina, she had shifted so her entire body was covered in thorns and Daisy could see her golden eyes glinting in the darkness. 

Garrett looked about to argue, but he growled and turned his attention to the machine. Quinn turned on his heel and took off, likely to get the helicopter. 

“Yeah, you’re not getting away that easy,” Daisy mumbled. She raised and hand to quake the machine into tiny pieces. 

Before she could, she had to dodge a clawed swipe at her face. 

Raina had a snarl fixed on her face as she flung herself repeatedly at Daisy. Daisy managed to knock her away enough to not get her face sliced open, but she didn’t have a moment to breathe or stop Quinn and Garrett from leaving, which was probably Raina’s exact intention. 

Instead of just deflecting Raina’s next attack, she grabbed Raina’s arm and landed a kick to her gut. 

That ought to get her off Daisy’s butt for a minute. 

Daisy heard the thwip of the helicopter blades hovering overhead and saw Garrett fastening the machine to a rope dangling from it. She flung out her hand again. 

And Raina was back. 

She threw herself directly in Daisy’s line of vision and aimed her claws at Daisy’s eyes. Daisy barely had the time to lean back and avoid the swing. She could feel the very tips of Raina’s fingers brush across the bridge of her nose, just barely far enough to avoid getting cut. 

Daisy stumbled from the sudden change in her center of gravity. Just in time to see Garrett standing on top of the machine, holding onto the rope it was dangling from, while Quinn piloted the helicopter up into the black sky. 

Raina’s smug face made it even worse. 

Daisy could feel the rumble building beneath her feet and spreading into the earth around her. This had to be the worst possible comeback tour ever. 

And she was pissed. 

She drew up the vibrations from her feet and pushed them into her hands which she blasted full force into Raina with a growl. 

Raina flew backwards into a nearby building. The force of the shockwave Daisy threw at her was enough to blast the brick wall inwards with Raina in it. Daisy knew from experience that Raina was annoyingly durable, though. She darted into the building, clambering up the pile of bricks and drywall to get in.  

It appeared to be some sort of lab, based on all beakers lying around, so this was definitely on the university’s campus. Hopefully, Daisy would be able to get Raina out of here with minimally more damage, since it would only mess with the students to have their space wrecked. 

Raina was already dusting herself off when Daisy mounted the rubble. 

“That’s going to be expensive to fix,” Raina grumbled. 

Daisy scoffed. Now, Raina was concerned about the destruction of property. The millions of dollars in property damage downtown meant nothing, but when it was the university…

“Why is that your problem? It’s not like you have a personal investment here, right?” she shouted back sarcastically. 

“It’s always my problem when the education of young people is at risk,” Raina quipped. She didn’t give Daisy another chance to return the banter before launching herself at Daisy. 

Daisy blocked and threw a few hits of her own. If there was one thing she had missed during her forced vacation it was getting to burn off some steam by beating the crap out of one of these jerks. 

She didn’t hold back. She threw her full strength into each punch or kick, determined to do as much damage to Raina’s smug face as possible. When she had an opening, Daisy threw out a hand and quaked Raina hard enough to send her flying over a table and scaled down the rubble pile. 

She lost sight of Raina for a moment on the other side of the table, which was never a good thing. Sure enough, Raina popped up after a few moments holding a hose that was cut through. Daisy wasn’t sure what the point of it was, until she smelled gas. 

“Sorry, Quakey, but today is not a day that you win,” Raina drawled and nodded towards the back of the lab. 

Ignoring that disgusting nickname, Daisy followed her eyes towards the rest of the (what she thought was) empty lab. 

There was a girl by one of the tables, wide-eyed, and standing protectively in front of some plant. What was she doing here? Why didn’t she run?! The one thing Daisy would never forgive herself for was civilian casualties, and Raina knew that. 

And Raina had a broken gas line and what was probably some form of lighter in her hand.

“NO!” Daisy shouted. 

The second she saw Raina’s hand twitch, she threw out a hand and sent a shockwave in the direction of the girl. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but it was better than getting blown up in a gas explosion. She threw another shockwave in Raina’s direction hoping to contain the explosion or direct it as far away from herself and other people as she could. 

The explosion was deafening. Everything went silent after the initial boom and Daisy was going to have some definite hearing damage. All Daisy saw was a mass of fire and burning building material. She was flung backwards into the opposite wall and was pretty sure she blacked out for a moment. 

When she came to, all she could hear was ringing. Dust (or smoke, it was hard to tell) filled the air, obscuring any remaining features of the lab. Daisy coughed some of the dust out of her lungs, but she could feel them burning with every inhale. 

Speaking of burning, the one thing she could see through the smoke was fire.  Flames burned in small patches of whatever they could grab onto and sucked the rest of the oxygen out of the air. 

Raina had clearly made her escape already and left Daisy to deal with the consequences. The ringing in her ears abated slightly and Daisy could hear the shrill wailing of firetruck sirens in the distance. She needed to get out of here before she was found.

She maneuvered her arms under herself and pushed herself up. God, everything hurt. The movement forced another coughing fit from her lungs. 

Distantly, she heard another cough. Shit, the girl. 

Daisy forced her own pain out of her mind and struggled to her feet. She wobbled around the piles of destroyed lab materials and leaned on whatever she could for support until she reached the back of the lab. 

A boy had appeared in the lab too and was shaking the girl’s unconscious form and shouting her name. He clearly had better cover than the girl did from the explosion, but still had some cuts and scrapes up his arms. 

The girl looked considerably worse for wear. There was a gash on head and cuts all up her arms from flying bits of the lab. The potted plant she had been so desperately protecting was crushed beneath her and there was so much blood on and around her. Daisy was never squeamish about blood, but usually it was her own or whatever poor bastard she was beating up that day. 

Never was it from an innocent bystander. Daisy felt sick. 

The girl opened her eyes slightly and groaned. Thank god, she was still alive. The slight movement brought Daisy back to the present. 

“What can I do?” She offered. She was pretty well practiced at bandaging herself up in the field by now. “I can help—”

“You’ve done enough, thanks,” the man snapped before returning his attention to the girl. 

That stung. That tone brought back the memories of when she first got her powers and blew out the windows in the base. She tried to help the team sweep up the glass, but everyone of them sent her away with the same words. 

You’ve done enough.

She was just trying to help. 

Daisy heard the calls of the first responders kicking through the wreckage. It would be best if they didn’t find her here. 

She turned and stumbled over the piles of rubble until she found a flat spot and launched herself into the air. 

She didn’t make it very far. Every system in her body protested the strain of making herself fly through the air. As gently as she could, she set herself down on a rooftop. 

She took a breather and tried again, this time only making it across one more rooftop. The more she pushed, the lower she flew with each launch. After awhile, she could barely get her feet off the ground. 

She collapsed onto the rooftop, the dust still clinging to her lungs and the pure exhaustion dragging her into unconsciousness. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Daisy finally woke up she almost wished she was dead. Everything that hurt last night hurt a thousand times worse now. It didn’t help that she spent roughly half a day curled up in the same position with her arm pinned under her body.

She groaned and moved slowly, trying to gradually stretch out her muscles.

The sun was up, but it was sinking lower in the sky already, so Daisy had some time to kill before she could make her way home. 

Once it was fully dark, she started on the slow, agonizing trek home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daisy’s attempt to gracefully lower herself through her window ended with her knees buckling and her collapsing on the floor with a wheeze. She quickly stripped off her tact suit and flung it into a random corner. Normally, she would be more concerned about if someone stopped by and saw it on the floor, but frankly she could not give less of a crap about it. 

Her typical ice bath to sooth her muscles was far too much effort. She grabbed her always-handy bottle of painkillers, threw a handful in her mouth, chased them with an entire bottle of water, and then collapsed on her couch and fell asleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In retrospect, Daisy probably should have checked her messages before passing out for another 12 hours, but she didn’t. There were a lot of things she probably should have done. 

Like go to work. 

When she finally dragged herself off the couch, there was a dozen emails from her manager as well as 20 missed calls on her apartment’s landline. Great, so she was definitely fired. She quickly called the number of the store.

The phone rang once and her manager picked it up with a cheery voice until Daisy said her name. 

“Daisy? What the hell? I called you a hundred times about missing your shift today—”

“I know, I’m sorry.” her voice came out raspy and cracked. “I got a really bad bout of the flu and have basically been unconscious, delirious, or barfing for the last 24 hours,” Daisy lied effortlessly. “Also, I lost my cell phone.”

“Oh my god, are you alright? Did you go to the doctor?” he asked, worry lacing his tone. 

Daisy smiled. Sometimes her manager was a hard-ass, but he did genuinely care about his employees. Well, the ones who actually gave a crap about their job anyway. 

“No, I didn’t want to spread my germs to the rest of the world. I’m sure it’s almost passed anyway,” Daisy replied. 

“Are you taking care of yourself at least? Drinking lots of fluids?”

Daisy glanced at the single empty water bottle that was the only thing she ingested for the last 24 hours. “Yeah, of course.”

“Well, I hope you feel better soon. I got Miles to take your shift today, so I’ll see if he can cover you for the next few days, too. Just to be safe.”

“Tell him I owe him one,” Daisy said and hung up. 

She glanced at the TV remote laying on the table. Did she really want to pick it up and watch the news? She already knew what it would be saying. 

Dangerous Vigilante Destroys University Building, Kills Innocent Student.

Daisy winced. She was really hoping that the girl from the lab pulled through. She looked alive when Daisy left, but that didn’t mean much. All Daisy could think about was how much blood there was. 

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think of puppies and beaches or anything to get that image out of her head. 

She reached for her laptop, but then realized the news would probably be all over any site she went as well. 

In the end, she grabbed a book and retreated to her bedroom. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daisy gave it a week before she could bear looking up any information about that night. As expected, none of the headlines were very flattering for her. 

Student Injured As Quake Levels University Building. Why Did Quake Attack Science Building? Does Quake Hate Science? Manhunt Intensifies for Quake. Directors of Graduate Studies Publicly Denounce Vigilante Quake.

No one even acknowledged the presence of Raina at the scene. Daisy scrolled through as many articles as she could manage. There was no mention of a student dying, so she had to be alive, right? If she didn’t survive, the news would be all over it. 

Sadly, there was no mention of her condition or a name of the hospital where she was taken. 

Daisy frowned and started hacking. She considered just calling around to the hospitals in the area, but given the high profile nature of the accident, she doubted the receptionist would be willing to reveal anything.

She trawled through the admission records of that night, looking for anyone in the right age group, from the area of the university, anything listed as 'explosion’ or 'accident.’ Nothing. 

She took off all her filters and scoured all the records. There were a lot of old people admitted and some teenagers with sprained wrists or ankles, but no one that could fit the description of the girl. 

After hours of nothing, she gave up. Hopefully the news would be annoying enough that they’d track the girl down for an interview when she was recovered. 

An alarm beeped on her new phone. The trio had been unusually quiet for awhile now. She opened up the notification and frowned. 

It was from a bank downtown. The back door had been opened, which no one used, except for deliveries. What the hell? Since when did they go for such obvious targets as a bank? They already had more money than they knew what to do with from Quinn. 

Daisy briefly debated ignoring it and going to sleep, but she had a nagging sensation that there was probably something more valuable than cash in the vaults. 

She groaned and shuffled to her closet where she stashed her suit. It still had a fine layer of dust on most of it from the lab that Daisy had never bothered to clean off. She brushed the majority of it off with her hands and suited up, grumbling the whole time. At least since it was a stealthy breach and not a massive hole in the wall she knew it was Raina and not Garrett. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daisy landed at the back of the bank where Raina broke in. The only thing to indicate that anybody had gone in this door was the tiny burn marks around the lock that must have disabled it. 

She slipped through the door and closed it behind her. 

“Now if I was a pain-in-the-ass super villain, where would I go?” Daisy mused. She slipped out her phone and opened up the motion sensor monitor for the building. Nothing was tripped except the entrance she had just come through. 

She pressed her palms into the floor, closed her eyes, and slowed her breathing. She zeroed in on all the vibrations she could feel throughout the block.

She felt the two security guards on duty pacing around the reception desk two floors above her. Really earning that paycheck, boys. Then, the floor below, she noticed movement in one of the vaults. Raina was quickly moving around the vault, and Daisy could feel the very slight vibrations as each safe deposit box popped open. One thing that was odd was that her heart rate was usually high. Must be an important job.

To minimize damage, Daisy decided to take the stairs to the next level. She shuffled down the hallway until she found the vault where she felt Raina. She had never had to stop a bank heist before, so she mentally crossed that off her bucket list. The giant metal vault door looked just like the ones from the movies. Eight feet tall, with a giant crank wheel on the front and a rather intense looking combination lock. 

Daisy felt like she was breaking into Gringotts. 

The vault door was still sealed, so Raina must have gotten in another way. 

Unfortunately, Daisy didn’t have time to find that way. 

She held out a hand and prayed to Lady Justice that this would be the time she could get Raina arrested and not have people try to charge her for the cost of a bank vault door. 

Slowly, she rattled apart the gears inside. Hopefully, if she took her time, she wouldn’t permanently damage it. If she had the time she would just try to spin them until she unlocked it, but she doubted Raina would stick around that long.

  The hinges finally gave way and Daisy gave one final push to knock the door inwards. It groaned and crashed into the ground sending a puff of dirt shooting out in all directions. That probably meant the concrete floor was crushed. Whoops. 

She stepped over the door and tried to wave some of the dirt out of her face. Hopefully she could get this over with quickly. She was freaking tired. 

“Really, Raina, I thought you were beyond bank robbing. I always thought it was too cliché for—” she started. 

But the bank robber her eyes landed on was definitely not Raina. 

She looked younger. Maybe around Daisy’s own age. She was wearing an outfit made up of various shades of green that seemed like it had been pieced together from thrift shop finds. Her light brown hair hung loose over her shoulder and she had a cheap-looking mask that appeared to be cut out of a piece of scrap fabric tied across her wide eyes. The girl stood there, stuffing a massive diamond in a bag and looking like a deer in the headlights.

The only thing that made her seem less like a bad cosplayer was the tangled plant sticking out of her back with the vines swaying gently. 

“You’re not Raina,” Daisy said, dumbly. 

“No, I’m…I’m new,” the girl responded. 

'I’m new?’ Was she getting introduced to a coworker? This girl was obviously new to this supervillain thing and didn’t really look too into it. 

“Um…okay. Your first act as a bad guy is to rob a diamond from a bank? Are you guys given a Bingo card at Supervillain Orientation or something?” Daisy taunted. 

The girl stuck her hands awkwardly on her hips and scoffed. “No! There’s no…um—It’s…” she stammered. 

Daisy snorted a laugh. This plant lady was really new to this. She was much more fun than fighting Raina again. She took a step forward to reason with the woman and the woman took a step back. Oh, and she was terrified of 'Quake’ already. Good. 

“Look, you obviously are new at this and probably don’t really want to be doing this, so I’m going to let you off with a warning this time,” Daisy offered. “I’ll close my eyes for exactly a minute and all you need to do is put the diamond in my hand and walk out the door. I won’t look where you go and I might even tell the security guards you beat me. Maybe it’ll boost your street cred or something.”

Okay, the part about telling the guards was a definite lie. Daisy was not planning on sticking around that long, but hopefully this would convince the girl to give up this supervillain thing before she actually started. 

Daisy held her hand out in front of her. “If you do try to leave with the diamond, I will stop you, though. Just saying,” Daisy said. She wiggled her toes and zeroed in on the vibrations from the floor. She would be able to feel if the plant lady made a break for the door or the hole in the ceiling that Daisy saw once the dust cleared.

“Alright, counting down,” Daisy announced and started counting to sixty seconds. 

Sure, it was probably dumb to leave her guard down so much in the presence of a new enemy. She had no idea what the plant lady was capable of and could probably just as easily strangle Daisy before she could do anything to stop it. 

But if nothing else, Daisy was a good judge of character and the look in the woman’s eyes said she wasn’t capable of murder. 

Daisy heard the woman rustling through her bag for the diamond. However, she got to twenty seconds and Daisy hadn’t felt her move forward. 

“I was serious about the one minute thing, by the way,” Daisy informed.  

Daisy got to twenty-two when she felt something heavy crack her in the back of the head. 

The room spun and Daisy staggered and cursed loudly. She heard quick footsteps, but her senses were so knocked out of balance that she had no idea where the girl was heading. Maybe Daisy wasn’t such a great judge of character and the girl was coming to finish her off. 

Her world stabilized just in time for Daisy to hear the groan of the metal vault door being moved. 

She squinted and focused her eyes on the doorway where the girl had somehow lifted the vault door and lodged it back into place. She heard a whirring sound and the edge of the door glowed molten orange and seemed to be sealing itself. 

Daisy ran to it and pulled. Yep, that was sealed. She would just have to go out the hole in the ceiling. 

She positioned herself underneath it and was about to launch herself up when a gun was pointed at her face. 

“Freeze! You’re under arrest,” the security guard screamed. Hasty footsteps ran towards him and a small group of more security guards converged and pulled out their weapons. 

Nope, going out the vault door. 

She threw out a hand and quaked the door as hard as she could. The vibrations rippled out from where she directed them and spread into the walls, leaving small cracks in the surface and the door toppled outwards. 

Revealing a larger group of security guards and policemen, all with their weapons out. Guess that vault door hitting the ground was pretty loud. Great. 

Daisy put her hands on her head. She knew she was outnumbered and she knew fighting off all these guys in an enclosed space would only lead to someone getting hurt and Quake ending up more vilified. So she decided to play nice. 

“Hey, guys. I’m sure you get this a lot, but this is really not what it looks like,” Daisy said. 

“Shut up! On your knees,” one of the cops shouted. 

“Okay, rude.” Daisy glared, but obeyed. 

The troops advanced slowly and circled her. Then they all froze. They all seemed to be having some silent conversation with their eyes that Daisy could clearly read as, “No, you handcuff her.”

“You guys know I’m not gonna bite you, right?” Daisy teased.

  They all jerked their guns a little higher when she spoke. Great, this could only end well. 

Finally, some rookie cop who looked about 12 seemed to be give the short straw and slowly shuffled towards Daisy with his handcuffs bared. 

Daisy held perfectly still, knowing the slightest twitch of a muscle could end up with her getting a dozen bullets to the head. The cop jerked her hands behind her back, clamped the cuffs on, and pulled her to her feet. Daisy immediately slipped a pin out of her sleeve and started picking the cuffs.

“Now that I’m 'restrained,’ can I tell you why you’re all making a mistake?” Daisy tried. More jerking of guns. 

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say—” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. This isn’t my first rodeo,” Daisy interrupted. “I know that when I say something, it better be the truth. So when I tell you that I was here to stop a villain from robbing the place, you should listen to me.”

“Take her upstairs, boys,” one of the cops, who was clearly in charge and suddenly found his authority now Quake was in cuffs, said. Jokes on him, Daisy had already unlocked both of the cuffs. She held them in place to maintain the illusion that she was restrained. 

Two security guards stepped forward and grabbed and arm each and started dragging Daisy out the ruined door. She jerked an arm out of the one’s grasp and planted herself, only to have two more guards clamp on. 

“If you guys would just listen for a minute, I could point you in the direction of the person who actually stole something,” Daisy protested. 

The officer in charge scoffed. “Is it the college professor? The disabled war hero? Or is it the charitable philanthropist this time?”

Daisy rolled her eyes. Great, this guy was one of those dipshits who liked to ignore the truth. 

They dragged her to the front door, which was swarmed with even more cops. When Daisy saw the news crew outside, she dug in her heels.  She needed to get through to them quickly. 

“You guys really need to listen to me. There’s a new supervillain who you can probably catch running down the back streets if you just go look!” Daisy demanded. 

“Sure, so you have less people to stop you from escaping,” one of the guards said. 

Dude, I don’t need less of you here to kick all your asses. I’m just not the bad guy, Daisy thought.

“If you could pull your head out of your butt, you would listen to me,” Daisy practically shouted at them. They were nearly to the door and Daisy could see the cameras converging. “I’m telling you, it wasn’t me. There was some plant lady. I was there to stop her.”

“Quake, Quake!” the reporter shouted, holding up a microphone. Daisy rolled her eyes and ducked her head, so her hair was covering her face. She was sure she wasn’t close enough for the camera to catch her face, but better safe than sorry. “Quake! Are you saying there’s a new villain in the city?”

Daisy resented the news for their portrayal of her, but at least they would report on what she said. Maybe they could help her publicize this new villain and help Daisy catch her. “Yes! Some lady with plants growing out of her broke in—”

She was cut off by one of the security guards shoving her shoulder and dragging her towards a waiting cop car. 

“Yeah, yeah, you can tell us all about the plant chick at the station,” he said. Daisy glanced up and saw the black sky above her was completely clear. Now or never. 

“I don’t think so,” she muttered. She dropped the cuffs, twisted out of the grip of the guards, blasted them all backwards, and then rocketed into the sky. The wind rushed past her ears for only a few moments before she landed on the roof of the bank. Luckily, there were no helicopters out yet or her escape would be much more difficult. She launched herself in the air and skipped across the rooftops in the opposite direction of her apartment, just in case. 

Well, this night had gone great. Because the only thing Daisy wanted in life was to have another supervillain to fight.

[blackidyll]

Somehow it’s the end of October? Where did the time go? Anyway, it means that December is almost here and I should work on sending out Christmas/holiday cards sooner than later in case international mail decides to take three months again and delivers them in Feb/March instead. My dear usual suspects, you’re on my mailing list and I’ll be using the same address as last year. Please let me know if you’ve moved since! You can still reach me at the same address ^^ 

If anyone else reads this on their dash and would like a card, let me know. Doesn’t matter if we haven’t really talked before -- I like sending and writing cards, and somehow in my head that’s easier to do than writing an email or sending a chat message, and I’m a terrible hoarder of pretty notepaper and cards and envelopes, so please give me the excuse of using some of that up so I can.............buy more.......... hahaha. 

There’s some pointless rambling under the cut that you can ignore, it’s just me getting things off my chest. There’s no autumn here in the tropics, so if it’s getting wintery wherever you folks are, please have some apple cider or cocoa on my behalf, please and thank you ❤

I've been pretty tired most of this year. 

Like, 2017 has been horrible to most people with all the natural and unnatural disasters, but I think it's also the daily grind things that really wear on you, and it piles up and piles up until you can't quite a remember a time when your shoulders aren't straining under the weight of it all. 

I've been taking things on a daily basis frequently this year, but it also means I've neglected a lot of things along the way in an effort to keep sane. So that's a lot of messages or emails or even comments on my fics that I haven't gotten to or replied in a timely matter, and I apologize for that. I love and cherish every message or comment I get, and especially to the close friends who continuously poke at me for weeks until I finally reply -- thank you. I needed that. Please keep poking at me until I eventually reply that I'm not dead. I don't know what's wrong with my head this year except that it's easier to keep silent and, I don't know. Just think of things I want to say in my head but never actually say them aloud/write them down in black and white. 

Anyway, the governmental paperwork for my aunty has finally gone through and my mom and other aunty now have legal right to deal with her assets and so on (yes, it's been months, but also: anything dealing with the government takes fucking forever, even if all your papers and things are in order). On another aside, if you're old enough to have assets to your name - property, vehicles, even if you have savings in the bank account, WRITE A WILL. My aunty updated her will and had it notarized shortly before she passed away -- she had known medical conditions -- and here we still are five months later, just released of the red tape. I know it is depressing as fuck to think of wills when you're in your twenties or whatever -- which was my reaction whenever I saw the will-writing agencies setting up booths at my workplace -- but after going through all of that with my aunty? Write that will. Whoever you're leaving behind is going to be dealing with grief and doesn't need the additional headache of getting boxed in by bureaucracy. 

Things at work are getting better now that I got out of the cesspit of backstabbing, manipulations and politics. Holy fuck. I'm still in the same office, but after a lot of silent screaming at myself for my own blindness and stupidity, I maneuvered myself out of a really problematic team and away from a particularly vicious backstabbing team member and now I'm much happier with my new team. I still have to deal with seeing the backstabber at work every day, but hey, she's officially alienated almost the entire office and she's drowning under her work, so the vindictive part of me takes great pleasure in witnessing that. 

I was in a car accident a week before my birthday -- I'm physically perfectly okay! But since the motorcycle smashed right into my side of the car (I wasn't driving, but it was my vehicle) that was... really fucking scary. So yet another aside, sometimes it's really worth it to spend a bit more money and buy a safer car. My car has a superstrong reinforced steel beam between the front and back doors, and that's what took the brunt of the motorcycle impact, instead of, you know, the door, which would have caved in and crunched ME up. So. My paranoia and anxiety about driving? Has about increased tenfold, and my insurance premium is back to its shitty high levels, but I finally got my car back and it's beautiful and pristine after two months in the workshop and I'm just pretty grateful to this one tonne hunk of metal that I normally am quite leery of because it could easily kill others but... then again, it did also keep me quite safe. 

I don't know. It's been a lot of near misses this year. Things are shitty but they could be a lot worse. On another plus, my phone's battery has been steadily dying since I went to New Zealand last year and fried (froze?) it in the cold winter air trying to take photos of a waterfall until it couldn't go ten minutes without dying, and I just went to a repair shop to get my phone pried opened and changed the battery and it seems the new battery is working great *crosses fingers* So I can use my phone a little longer without forking out yet another chunk of money for a new phone. 

And today, I wrote and submitted a letter to resign from my apartment's joint management committee, which is yet another cesspool of manipulations and backstabbing and really dodgy activity, and I know I should care more because it's my apartment building too and they're making decisions using the money that all residents contribute, but frankly all of it is just not worth the fucking stress. I'm out, and thank goodness for that. 

It feels like a lot of things in my life -- my aunty's death, things at work, the car accident, the political stuff with the apartment committee and even my phone -- are slowly getting fixed or dealt with. Hopefully that will be mirrored in my mental state and I can end 2017 getting to a slightly healthier frame of mind instead of all the sleepless procrastinating "I don't want to deal with reality" habits I got into this year. 

So. Last two months of the year. There are a lot of people I owe replies to, and I really need to get on that. I haven't been active in fandom much -- the Victuuri Big Bang was an exception and I have to thank my wonderful artist because they really really motivated me to keep writing with all these gorgeous artwork -- but I've joined the 00Q Reverse Bang again this year (didn’t manage to join any YOI holiday exchanges though)... so, there should be more activity from me fandom-wise in a couple of months.

[avidbeader]

“The Perils of Innocence”, a Potter fanfic - Chapter 33

So, I started this story several years ago and got a hefty way in. And then my job went crazy and I basically didn’t write anything for over a year. And once I was able to start writing again, my muses wanted to play with shiny Netflix shows like “Sense8″ and “Voltron”. But I am finally blowing the dust off and hoping to update this regularly.

Summary: AU. In an institute to help children with mental and psychological problems, a child is abandoned by his guardians because he does extraordinary things. Rather than fear him, the doctors work to help him try to control this ability. They discover other children with these incredible powers. And then odd letters arrive one summer day. Rating will probably go up later. Eventual H/Hr.

It’s probably simplest to just read over on FF.Net or AO3 instead of trying to follow the tag.

Chapter 32

11 December 1991

 The goblin observed a wizard entering into the bank. While this was a daily occurrence in any Gringotts branch, Beltdirk could smell the difference. This wizard was also a werewolf. And the London branch had put the word out, offering a hefty bonus from the heirs of a pair of prominent families in Wizarding Britain for locating a werewolf here in Western Canada.

 Beltdirk stepped forward, intercepting the wizard. “How may Gringotts be of assistance to you today?”

 The wizard looked down at him, slightly puzzled at being approached first. “I need to access my vault and exchange some galleons for dollars.”

 “That can be arranged. Your name and your vault key?”

 The wizard handed over a key. “Remus Lupin.”

 Beltdirk affected surprise, pleased that he had guessed correctly. “Really? We have something for you, then. Please follow me to our director’s office. I will be pleased to bring your dollars to you if you will tell me how much you need.”

 The wizard blinked, taken aback at a goblin being anything other than barely helpful. “I need one hundred dollars, please.”

 Beltdirk led him to an office, where a second goblin looked up from a desk as they entered. Beltdirk saluted. “Director Strikeblade, this is Remus Lupin.”

 Strikeblade opened a drawer and pulled out a bowl and a sharp knife. He tore a scrap of parchment from a scroll on his desk and dropped it into the bowl. “I need to verify your identity. It only requires a drop of blood.”

 Remus held out his hand with some hesitation, but the goblin was true to his word and only pricked one finger with the tip of the knife before running his finger along the parchment. The resulting red slash glowed, then began streaking out in thin lines, like an insect emerging from a cocoon. The lines quickly formed into words: Remus John Lupin.

 Strikeblade looked up with a satisfied expression. He scrawled a note on another parchment and handed it to Beltdirk. “Take this to Accounting for your bonus.”

 Beltdirk grinned eagerly and left. Remus looked back to Strikeblade in confusion.

 “Mr. Lupin, all Gringotts locations in this area were requested to keep a watch for you so we might deliver a message. Master Harry Potter wishes to pay your way back to England so he might spend Christmas with both his godfather and his honorary uncle for the first time in ten years.”

 Remus blinked in surprise. “What? I told Sirius I wouldn’t accept any money from him!”

 Strikeblade nodded. “Yes, we were aware of your instructions in regard to Mr Black. This request comes from Master Potter. We have been asked to obtain a reply.”

 Remus ground his teeth at the goblin’s pedantic tone. “Very well.  But I don’t think I’ll make it in time for Christmas. I won’t be able to travel between the 20th through the 22nd and international portkeys before then are almost certainly booked.”

 “Do you have a passport?”

 Remus raised his eyebrows at that. “Yes. It makes things a little easier.”

 “Then airline tickets will be arranged well in advance of the 20th. You can leave as soon as you make your own arrangements, as soon as the day after tomorrow. Do you have a preference between flying from Calgary or Edmonton?”

 “I…ah…sorry. I wasn’t expecting this. May I send an owl tomorrow?”

 Strikeblade nodded and looked up at some invisible signal. “Enter.”

 Beltdirk came in with a money pouch and a rolled parchment. He handed both to Remus. “This arrived from our Ottawa branch as I was returning from the vaults.”

 Remus unrolled the scroll addressed to him and found a note. A few simple lines were scrawled across the parchment:

 Moony, do NOT blame me! This was all Harry’s idea! But please come home.

 Remus laughed in joy for the first time in a very long while.

 *****

 13 December 1991

 Emily exited the taxi and glanced around uneasily at the dingy London neighbourhood. Sirius emerged behind her, followed by Pippa. Patrick got out of the front passenger seat after paying the driver, who drove off immediately for better pickings than a side street in Camden Town. They were standing in front of Number 11, a week’s worth of refuse sitting on its front steps.

 As they had planned, the three non-magicals surrounded Sirius so he could draw his wand. He waved it as discreetly as possible, verifying the existence of the new wards.

 “Looks like the goblins did a perfect job. All the usual wards for a magical home in a Muggle neighbourhood – repellers and concealers – with extra defence wards and the Fidelius as requested. Since I am the Secret Keeper, I can do this.” He handed the three of them scraps of parchment with identical messages on them.

 The Town Residence for the Black Family is located at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, London.

 After reading the note, Emily looked up and blinked. There was now another residence between Number 11 and Number 13, looking in much better repair than its neighbours. Sirius poked his wand toward each of them in turn, muttering an incantation. When Pippa raised one eyebrow at him, he explained.

 “Just something so you can pass through all the wards. Come on, let’s see how bad the inside is. I only paid the Goblins to clear out any dangerous infestations and correct structural defects.”

 *****

 Finally.

 Draco Malfoy signed his name to the letter and addressed it to his father. It had taken far too many weeks of hovering around students from other houses, trying to hide his interest as he listened in on conversations, dealing with Pansy Parkinson’s annoying presence as she gathered and shared gossip. But he finally had the information his father wanted: Potter was going to spend the winter holiday at the place he had been living before coming to Hogwarts, with plans to visit Granger and Thomas.

 He had no idea why his father wanted to know this. Lucius Malfoy had gone very quiet since Black had been exonerated from his crimes, not even appearing for charity events like usual. Draco had even asked his mother about it in a personal letter, but received only assurances that his father was very busy with more important things.

 As he climbed stairs toward the Owlery, he heard voices coming from above. Recognizing the despised plummy tones of Finch-Fletchley, Draco backtracked and hid behind a tapestry. Every time they had crossed paths, the dratted mudblood had been able to talk rings around him. As the steps grew closer, he heard Granger answer him and was doubly glad to avoid them. After a few missteps in the classes using wands, she had risen to the top of every single subject in their year and rumour had it she was putting the second years to shame as well.

 As they passed him, Granger was chattering excitedly. “And Mr Black has invited all of us to his place in London for the New Year! Do you think you’ll be able to come?”

 “I don’t know, but I’ll ask Father. That’s great that Harry gets to spend more time with him.”

 “And Harry said they made contact with the other friend of his dad, Mr Lupin! So he might be there as well!”

 Their voices faded as they continued down the stairs. Draco frowned. He slipped out and dashed up the stairs to the Owlery, seizing one of the bespelled self-inking quills from the pot and opening the scroll. His father needed this new information.

  *****

 14 December 1991

Remus followed the other first-class passengers into the hallway that led to the terminal. He had not yet shaken off the dazed feeling of being in some other dimension, one where a werewolf like him rode on a plane, overwhelmed by top-notch customer service. He stepped through the doorway and was surprised yet again to see someone holding a sign that clearly bore his name: R.J. Lupin.

 Remus moved forward, looking from the sign to the man holding it. He waved uncertainly at the sign. “Er, I’m Remus Lupin.”

 The man smiled, teeth peeking from behind an impressive walrus-like mustache. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Patrick Aymler. Sirius should be back any minute – he wanted to read the display with arrival times again—”

 “MOONY!” The bellow made them both jump and then Sirius was on Remus, his arms wrapped around the other man in a bear hug.

 Remus returned the hug, laughing, and pushed back to get a look at his friend. His eyebrows quirked up at seeing Sirius remarkably turned out in jeans and jumper, topped by an overcoat. There wasn’t a single wrong note to mark him as a wizard in disguise. Then he took in the pale tone of his skin and the prominence of his jawline and cheekbones. Remus pulled him close again.

 “Merlin, I am so sorry.”

 “What do you have to be sorry about? We kept you out of the plan because we suspected you. No one would have believed you if you had known.” Sirius pulled back and looked him in the eye. “It was a cock-up and it sucked, but it’s over and we have a kid to get to know again.”

 Remus blinked. This was not the Sirius he knew from a decade ago. “That is…remarkably mature of you.”

 Sirius grinned and clapped Aymler on the shoulder, drawing him into the circle. “I’ve had some very good listeners the last few months. You should try them. Now, let’s get your things and get out of here. There’s a lot to catch up on.”

 *****

 15 December 1991

 “Excuse me, Albus, but I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

 “No, my dear, you heard very clearly.”

 “The minister has no right to demand that Harry stay in Hogwarts for the holidays!”

 “He claims it’s for Harry’s own safety.”

 “And he hasn’t been safe the last six years at Esperança House?”

 “My dear, I know. I am only sharing what the minister said because you are Harry’s head of house.”

 “Have you contacted Sirius yet?”

 “I have sent an owl. I am awaiting a reply.”

 Minerva grumbled, thinking of the speed of those telephone things that the Esperança House doctors and parents used.

 The doctors… So far Patrick and Emily had been extremely clever in figuring out ways to work in the children’s best interests no matter what the magical world demanded. She fished for a little more information so she could give them all the ammunition possible. “It isn’t like Fudge to interfere like this without being pushed. Who put him up to it?”

 Dumbledore offered a cynical smile. “Who else? Malfoy expressed concerns, based on a run-in he had with the group back in August. I believe the issues involved the only scion of House Potter, a most important wizard in our society, continuing to associate so closely with muggleborn riffraff.”

 “And if Harry gets on the train anyway…”

 “Then my understanding is that Fudge will have his people meet the train in London and take Harry somewhere deemed safe for the holidays.”

 Minerva snorted. “Like hell he will. Sirius was awarded custody in the magical world in October.”

 “I know, but questions of Sirius’ mental state after so many years of exposure to dementors persist, especially as he has been keeping a low profile somewhere. And there were also concerns expressed about the presence of Remus Lupin, a werewolf.”

 She let out an exasperated bark. “Harry won’t even be arriving at Grimmauld Place until well after the full moon! This is ludicrous, Albus!”

 “I agree, but I am not sure how we can avoid it. If Sirius is up to the task of stepping in—”

 “Oh!” Minerva threw up her hands. “Albus, your insistence on treating incompetent people like they’re competent and evildoers like they’re misguided is infuriating! I will handle this and Harry will go home for the holidays!”

 She spun on her heel and left, slamming the door behind her.

  *****

 Emily was taking advantage of the empty upstairs rooms to organize the holiday gifts for the current residents and the staff. She was using Hermione’s room to store and organize and the makeshift conference room for wrapping. She was almost to the point where she could bring Pippa in to help.

 She had filled a box with enough tissue to cushion the snowglobe she had chosen for Pippa and lifted it to set it inside. A loud pop made her jump and lose her hold. Emily cried out as the glass globe crashed onto the hardwood floor and shattered.

 “Oh, I am so sorry! Here!” Professor McGonagall whipped out her wand and pointed it at the drenched wreckage. “Reparo!”

 Emily couldn’t hold in the gasp as the pieces flew back together on the floor, the water regathering and the glitter swirling inside.

 “Is that right?”

 Emily nodded, staring at the recovered snowglobe and remembering the Grangers’ description so long ago of a destroyed kitchen fixing itself. She shook her head, bringing herself back to the present, and replied. “Yes, that’s perfect. Thank you so much!”

 “Well, it’s only fair since I’m the one who caused you to drop it.”

 Emily put the snowglobe in its box and closed the lid. The professor held up her wand again. “May I?”

 She nodded, puzzled. McGonagall pointed at the box with her wand and waved it in a zigzag motion. She intoned, “Involvere.” Pristine white wrapping paper appeared from nowhere, crawling up the box and surrounding it, followed by a sky-blue ribbon with a glittery snowflake design. Emily stared at the beautifully wrapped package.

 “That’s…thank you. I’m tempted to ask you to stick around. I hate wrapping gifts.”

 McGonagall smiled at that, but her expression faded. “Ordinarily, I would be happy to. But I came because I need your help.”

 Emily paid fast attention. “Are the kids all right?”

 “Yes, it’s nothing like that. But some of those problem pureblood families have decided to poke their noses where they’re not wanted. They’ve convinced the minister to demand that Harry stay at Hogwarts for the holidays. For his ‘own safety’, although they’re really trying to find a way to become an influence in his life.”

 “I don’t understand. We still have legal custody.”

 “In this world, yes. And Sirius has custody in the magical world.”

 “So why do they think they can dictate Harry’s movements?”

 McGonagall held out her hands in a helpless gesture. “Because no one’s ever told them they can’t? At the time I objected to Albus dumping Harry with those awful Dursleys, but he was right in one regard. It was better for Harry to grow up away from the magical world, away from all these people trying to use him.”

 “So, how do we fight this?”

 “That’s why I came to you. I was hoping you all would have some ideas.” Emily thought for a moment. “Have you gotten in touch with Sirius yet?”

 “No, Albus sent an owl but he hadn’t got a response before I left.”

 Emily chewed her lip, recalling a discussion with the other doctors on getting pagers and whether mobile or car phones would be worth their expensive prices. Right now it would be very helpful to be able to find Patrick immediately instead of waiting for him to return from his Christmas shopping. “So, what’s their plan?”

 The professor filled her in and Emily thought. “So we have two ways to approach this. One way is to send Harry back to London on the train and have Sirius and some of us be there to intercept whoever the minister sends to collect him. That has the advantage of making it clear that we won’t tolerate others trying to interfere with Harry’s life but also turns it into an incident that might cause retaliation. The other way is to have Harry stay behind and Sirius can just pick him up from Hogwarts that afternoon. That could keep the whole issue under the radar for a while if the minister or whoever doesn’t bother to check up on him.”

 McGonagall frowned. “I rather feel that we need to make a stand. If the minister thinks he’s won this time, he’ll simply try again at Easter. And then possibly the summer holidays as well.”

 “Yes, I see that. But we can’t expect Sirius to take on a whole squad of security officers or whatever. He just got out of prison.”

 “I can think of at least two others who could help him. Amelia Bones and Augusta Longbottom will be picking up their children from the train as well. If we forewarn them, we have more wands at the ready to make our point.”

 Emily nodded slowly, considering the implications of having a leader in their parliament and their Lord Chief Justice equivalent standing next to them. “That might work. Let me see what Pat thinks and we can decide by tomorrow? Sirius said something about coming over, so we can tell him and have him tell you.”

 “Or I can send Nyctimine to wait on your reply.”

 “Who?”

 “My owl. She can stay here for the night and take your note whenever you are ready.”

 “Oh… Sure. That’s a good idea. Although I wish we could just pick up a phone and call you in an emergency.”

 McGonagall shook her head. “Such a thing would be ruined the minute it entered Hogsmeade or the castle grounds. But I’ve wished for the same thing several times since Harry and the others arrived.”

 “Is there really no other way to communicate?”

 “Some people speak through the floo network, but that requires a working fireplace that is connected. It’s a potential breach of security if the proper wards aren’t in place. The next best thing is a specific charm that can deliver a message with the caster’s voice, but it is one-way and is also a very difficult piece of magic.”

 Emily pursed her lips. “All this magic stuff and there’s no way to communicate effectively. We need to figure out something better.”

 McGonagall nodded and got a thoughtful look on her face, as if an idea had just occurred to her.

 *****

 20 December 1991

 As the train slowed, everyone stood and began pulling down bags. Dean and Justin helped Neville get his trunk down.

 “We’ll get you a suitcase for Christmas, Neville. That way you won’t have to bring a whacking great trunk home every hols,” Wayne said. He cuffed Neville on the shoulder as the other boy blushed.

 “I’m not sure what my gran would say…”

 Hermione gave him a one-armed hug as she picked up her holdall in the other hand. “I would think she’d see the convenience of it, honestly.”

 “Oi, Trevor!” Terry scooped up the toad as he tried to hop out the door and handed him to Neville.

 “The boys can get your suitcase. Hermione and I are going to a pet shop and getting you a carrier for Trevor,” Sally-Anne declared.

 Hermione beamed. “That’s a brilliant idea! We can give them to you at New Year’s!”

 Neville turned bright pink. “You…you don’t have to…”

 Harry laid a hand on his shoulder. “No, but we want to. That’s what friends are for. Now, come on.”

 As they had arranged after Professor McGonagall had talked with them about the minister’s plans, the other children surrounded Harry after they got off the train so that no one would be able to simply walk up and grab his arm. Harry added his baseball cap to hide his scar and part of his face. They all scanned for a trusted adult and Dean was the first to spot his parents. “There!” He waved and his mother waved back. The two groups moved toward one another and the children continued to scan the crowds.

 Harry was the one to spot Clott and hissed to the others. “On our six! The Clod!” Terry shifted so he was between them.

 “Pippa!” Hermione cried, and Harry’s eyes snapped in her direction. His first friend was there, with Sirius Black next to her. They started to converge, and then another Hogwarts student shifted into their group.

 “Oi!” Dean cried, itching to shove back as she had run her trolley over his foot.

 “Sorry! Auntie told me to find you lot and stick with you!”

 Neville looked her over, tightening his grip on Trevor as the toad made a break for it. “Bones? Why?”

 “She’s going to help if Fudge’s people try something. Keep moving!”

 Harry peeked toward where he had seen Clott and they made eye contact. Harry bit back a curse and hooked his arm with Hermione’s. “He saw us.”

 But then Dean’s parents and Sirius arrived at the same time. Sirius lifted two fingers to his mouth and let out an ear-splitting whistle. As the people around them jumped, Sirius bellowed, “Found them! Heading to the exit!” He slid in and put a hand to Harry’s shoulder. “Pippa’s gone to collect the doctors and as many parents as she can find. We’ll be out of here in a few minutes.”

 “Black,” a voice drawled near them and Sirius glanced over.

 “Malfoy,” he replied in the same tone, adding an eye-roll for good measure.

 Harry looked up to see the same man from Diagon Alley, with long hair the same shade as his son. Two men in brown auror robes were behind him. The man was toying with a cane and as Harry watched, the silver snake-head lifted up slightly from the body of it.

 Harry wanted to laugh. This pretentious blighter had his wand made like a sword-cane. He focused on the cane, making the head stick to the wood, while the men began verbally sparring.

 “I’m not sure why you’re here, Black. Surely you received word that young Harry is staying in a secure location for the holidays.”

 “And as his legal guardian, I thanked the minister for his concern and declined. Surely you received word of that as well.”

 The press of people grew and Harry glanced around, relieved to see the doctors, the Grangers, and the Finch-Fletchleys. Another woman stepped forward, one eyebrow raised over a monocle, and Harry recognized Amelia Bones.

 “Malfoy, I am aware that you were told of Mr Black’s decision. There is also the claim of Mr Potter’s muggle guardians to be considered. Please go collect your own child, and only your own child.”

 Malfoy glanced around. The aurors retreated at the sight of their immediate superior. Clott was trying to work through the crowd but was still too far away.

 And then Augusta Longbottom was there as well, reaching in for her grandson. “Ah, there you are, Neville! Shall we get a trolley?”

 Neville glanced at Harry, a bright look in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “No, gran, thank you. My friends are helping me.”

 Dean and Wayne straightened and Dean spoke. “That’s right, ma’am. We’ve got it. Let’s go.”

 Outnumbered, Malfoy glared as the group moved toward the exit.

 As they began exiting through the portal, Sirius pulled Harry closer. “Oh, I wish Remus could have been here! That was perfect!”

 Harry grinned and threw an arm around the man’s waist. “This is going to be the best Christmas ever!”

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

[runthejoint-blog]

Investigation and diagnosis



The road to Paris


When I awoke at about 2am on the morning of May 4th, it wasn’t in excitement and anticipation that I was just a few hours later going to embark on the feat of endurance that is cycling from London to Paris within 24 hours as part of Challenge Sophie’s annual event. No, I awoke in agony with crippling pain in my right hand. I couldn’t form a fist without shooting pain and instantly felt a wave of anxiety flood over me. Not only did I wonder what was wrong with me, but I felt an immense sense of panic. How the hell was I going to cycle 200 miles with limited use of one hand? I was not just worried about the pain, more how would I handle the bike, grip the handlebars, and most importantly brake! I jumped out of bed and ran down to the kitchen to consume pain killers and anti-inflammatories and find a Rapid Ice to stick my hand into.



A few hours later Tom and I were on the train bound for the start line at Blackheath. The train was packed; standing room only, with our bikes precariously packed into the overcrowded carriage and my face crumbling in pain every time I was forced to grab the hand rail to hold on. I decided the best strategy was to keep moving my hand to avoid it seizing up further and gradually over the course of the day the pain abated.

Once the ride got underway the concern about the pain began to lift (in part because it did), mainly as we were confronted with unbelievable weather for the first May bank holiday weekend - torrential rain, followed by vicious hail and our fair share of strong winds - it was going to be challenging I appreciated, particularly as this was a last minute decision for me to join the ride, and had done no training, but this turned into a harrowing four hours on the first day. What on paper should have been a straightforward, and by our standards easy ride, was proving far from it. 



Arriving at Newhaven heralded an enormous sense of relief, the chance to consume copious amounts of carbs (a favourite hobby of mine, and probably the one I excel at the most) and most importantly change into clean and dry kit and begin the next challenge of drying out shoes and staying warm, not to mention trying to sleep on the five hour ferry crossing.



The morning of May 5th began in earnest with us joking that the predicted bad weather was nowhere to be seen. Gathering before dawn to start pedalling again, there was an atmosphere of sleep-deprived, good-natured hysteria. Little did we know that within seven miles the first freezing cold rain would begin, quickly followed up with a chaser of yet more ice-cold and truly vicious hail. Thank goodness we were part of a peloton of 120 riders who had made a pact to cycle the first 30 or so miles to breakfast as a group. Yes, it meant the pace was slower than maybe we would have liked given the conditions, but I genuinely don’t know if either of us would have kept going if we’d done this as an independent duo - we’re tough, but this reduced even the hardiest of riders to teeth-chattering wrecks (personally I blame the previous year’s participants, including Tom, for bitching about how they endured the start of the 2018 heat wave). At the breakfast stop (after what seemed like an eternity of riding) Tom and I stuffed as much food and coffee into ourselves as possible and tried to get warm (an impossible task, it turned out). I genuinely wondered if we should continue, I was particularly worried about Tom with his lack of corporeal padding, but on we went and eventually we made it to the Eiffel Tower with time to spare - 37 minutes to be precise. It had been hard, the weather and fatigue had been a challenge, but all pain had evaporated, or at least been replaced with the general ache of long days in the saddle and the effects of having been unbearably cold.

The road to diagnosis


I forgot about this weird hand pain and continued on my merry way, enjoying an immersive new job and putting my ever-growing tiredness down to spending nine hours a day at a desk staring at a computer screen, and my lifestyle transforming overnight from relatively active to largely sedentary. And then it happened again. About two weeks after the first attack, I was once again seized in the middle of the night by the same pain - overtaking my hand and wrist. It remained for the next 48 hours or so before my left hand began to hurt, although along the edges of my palm and wrist rather than the fingers and knuckles of my right hand. It struck me, it must be carpal tunnel. I knew it was something that tends to get progressively worse before you often need to resort to a surgical fix. A request for diagnosis from a couple of doctor friends over a drink in the pub one night, confirmed my Google self-diagnosis.

Sitting 36 hours later in a consultation room with a locum GP he told me it definitely wasn’t carpal tunnel and instead it sounded more like arthritis. He proceeded to unsuccessfully try and print off a request for blood tests and a prescription for anti-inflammatories to keep me going until the results came back. His inability to work the printer and the fact he didn’t agree with my Google-formed opinion (or that of my friends) instantly made me decide that I couldn’t trust this opinion (another doctor friend has since told me he is one of the best doctors around!). I am 29 years old, eight weeks away from my 30th birthday. I cannot have arthritis. So I duly trotted off to St Richard’s for a blood test the following Tuesday, and cracked on with the day to day.



Within 48 hours I received a phone call from the surgery; my usual GP would like to see me to discuss my test results. It didn’t need to be an urgent appointment, I was told, and so I assumed that the results had returned nothing and further investigation was needed. Nearly two weeks later I endured a 40 minute wait to see the Dr and safely ensconced in her office, she broke the news I had least expected to hear, and wanted to hear even less. At the age of 29 and now six weeks before my 30th birthday, the blood results showed I had arthritis. The tears came quickly, yet silently and trickled down my cheeks as it dawned on me what this could mean. My lovely, warm-hearted, good-humoured GP who has counselled me through so much over the past six months and has seen me transformed from an anxiety-ridden shell unable to speak back to a smily, bouncy, positive person told me not to get ahead of myself. Yes, it was highly unlikely I would be able to run the ultra-marathon I had only a couple of weeks before set my sights on. Yes, it was now a case that I would be medicated for life and have to practice damage-limitation to avoid any further degeneration of my joints. But, I could cycle, I could swim, do yoga, pilates and consider diet adaptions to keep the inflammation under control. The two of us quickly established that it was best for her to refer me to the rheumatology department at our local NHS hospital, but also to see a consultant who practised at the local private hospital so that I would know where I stand sooner rather than later.



You see, yes I can cycle. Cycling is in fact seen as one of the best activities for those living with arthritis. But is the cycling I choose to do going to be encouraged. Is powering up a 15% hill as hard as I can ok? Is putting everything into a sprint to beat my big brother to the coffee shop ok? How about a 2 week long endurance ride akin to the LEJOG challenge I completed last summer going to ruin me, or make me thrive? How about a week climbing in the Alps, Dolomites or Pyrenees? Or a 24 hour endurance challenge such as the one I completed when this whole sorry saga began? 

For those who know me even a little, they know that physical challenges are how I survive life. How I feel truly alive. Challenging myself physically, not knowing if I’ll complete it until the last millisecond, that is how I not only get my kicks, but keep my anxiety and greatest fears at bay and build confidence and belief in myself; something that only a few months ago had been eroded to non-existence. We often see such challenges and achievements as something to be celebrated; a sign of mental toughness as well as physical toughness. The other day someone who has endured hundreds if not thousands of miles pedalling next to (or more accurately in front of me) sent me a message saying: “you tend to push yourself very hard physically. I’ve observed many people in this regard, and your intensity is among the very best (worst?) I’ve seen.” Suddenly, someone whose opinion I had valued so much and who had always made me think that this commitment was a good thing, made me re-evaluate myself. Had I pushed too hard? Had I broken myself? Was I to blame for this?

Today, almost six weeks to the day since my symptoms began and five weeks before my 30th birthday, I met by consultant, Sanj. After he quizzed me on my symptoms, he came up with the analogy of me recounting my experience so far as akin to a Beatles song coming on the radio (familiar and instantly recognisable to him): there was no doubt in his mind that I had  inflammatory (or rheumatoid) arthritis. Again those silent tears sprung a leak. I guess I had this hope that he would disagree with the GP, say it was a one-off virus and nothing to worry about. No such luck, the exhaustion I feel is genuine, the pain in my elbow is not all in my head, it’s in fact totally swollen, the excruciating pain I have in my shoulder today is really there, and yes, it is why I feel physically sick - I’m a classic case; not worrying unnecessarily, I will feel like crap right now and it’s right I feel anxious and fearful for the future. He had a clever knack of giving me as much information as he felt was necessary but knew not to overload me or what could wait until we met again. I won’t know for another couple of weeks what the long term treatment will be, or what my most recent test results will suggest in terms of prognosis, but I do know that it will be a case of adaptation, ‘disease limitation’ and living life by evaluating truly how I feel each day. It might mean that sometimes the best laid plans will fall to pieces at the last minute, or I may even complete an unplanned challenge on the spur of the moment because I feel good. And that is going to be my biggest mental barrier to overcome. It’s ok to not put yourself under pressure every weekend to get out and put yourself through gruelling challenge, after gruelling challenge - I just need to remember that during my lowest moments.

How often do we say, “Oh I want to do that one day”? Make that day today, you never know what is round the corner. I thought I had years to enter Paris-Roubaix, the Tour of Flanders, cycle the Highland 500, run a marathon, run that ultra-marathon, cycle from the Channel to the Med - suddenly I am a lot less sure.



Keep this in mind: One day I will not be able to do this, today is not that day, but tomorrow could be. Don’t waste a day.


[mysticalreadingnerd]

Let Me Warm Your Heart Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 |

Word Count : 2,204

Warnings : None 

Summary: Y/N is tasked with a mission to keep the weird Barebone family in check. But things don’t always go as they are planned. After all, love always chooses those paths which are the least predictable. 

                                     ~

The balmy weather was nice enough to warrant a visit to Central Park, a picnic would have been the ideal activity for this breezy summer day. The flowers were in full bloom and the air hung heavy with the smell of food, probably wafting from the hot-dog vendor standing nearby. Ignoring her growling stomach, Y/N glanced up at the clear skies before shrugging away thoughts of an imagined holiday. Vacations were a luxury Aurors couldn’t afford, especially not in such turbulent times. 

She refocused her attention on the gathering crowd ahead of her, as the New Salem Philanthropic Society commenced another of its infamous rallies. Y/N effectively merged within the crowd, nonchalantly staring at the flyer she had been handed. The Barebone woman continued spewing vitriol against witches and magic, assuring them that the threat was very real. Y/N’s watchful eyes swept across the crowd once, before settling on the leader of the Second Salemers as she urged the gathered people to watch out for the lurking darkness that hid so cleverly among ‘us’! Mentally, Y/N scoffed wondering how many actually believed this supposed gibberish. But disbelief was good, disbelief kept her kind safe. And above all, it was her job to keep that disbelief unwaveringly constant. 

She shifted a few paces ahead, before blocking herself from Mary Lou’s line of vision behind a man wearing a rather outlandish top hat. She continued her observation, staring at the two daughters standing beside the woman. The elder one, Chastity stood primly, projecting an image of trained etiquette and polite interest. The younger one Modesty, meanwhile, shuffled onto the steps of the bank where the rally was being held, mumbling a song and fidgeting to its tune. 

Y/N gaze then shifted to the eldest of the Barebone children, Credence. He stood amongst the crowd, handing out flyers with shouty capitals, blaring the NSPS anti-witch propaganda. He must be quite tall, Y/N mused, as her eyes assessed the lanky boy. But he seemed shorter with the pronounced hunch with which he carried himself. Almost as if he could disappear into nothingness if he tried hard enough. 

It had come as a surprise to Y/N when her fellow colleague Tina Goldstein had been removed from Auror services. For jeopardising their safety by violating the International Statute of Secrecy’s provisions nonetheless! Tina was a stickler for rules and for the number of cases that they had partnered together, Y/N knew her to be thorough and efficient. How she ended up losing her steam over the Barebones and subsequently losing her job as well, was a mystery. 

What came as a greater surprise however, was when Director Graves summoned her in his office. He assigned her the responsibility of keeping an eye over the Barebones, ensuring that the safety of the wizarding community was not threatened by the enflamed speeches of an overenthusiastic zealot. While she was of the opinion that there was no harm in keeping a watchful eye over this fanatic, there was something in the way the Barebone boy carried himself that kept drawing Y/N’s attention. 

Not one for distractions, she changed places again, this time edging towards the back of the crowd. Her gaze trained itself on the speaker again as she withdrew from the dense crowd, making sure that Mary Lou didn’t notice her. In her effort to appear inconspicuous, she didn’t realise until it was too late as she stumbled across someone’s feet. Though the force was not near enough to knock the person down, it did displace the dozens of sheets that the person was carrying. No, not sheets, flyers to be exact. 

When had Credence slipped to the back, Y/N wondered, as they both crouched down to gather the scattered flyers. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise you were standing here. I was in a rush to get back to work. I hope I didn’t hurt you?” she gave an apologetic smile having managed to collect a few of the papers, and handed them to the gaping boy. He stared at her for a moment as their fingers brushed each other, before swallowing audibly and said, “N-no. It was, m-my fault. I shouldn’t have been…standing here. Y-you didn’t hurt me. S-s-sorry!” he stuttered nervously as tingles surged from his fingers where they had accidentally touched Y/N’s.

She waved away his apology before smiling brightly and said, “No worries. I do hope you are alright though”, glancing at her watch she muttered under breath before continuing, “I have to go now, lunch time is almost over. I’ll see you later then! Have a good day!” she waved breezily before crossing the road and disappearing in the bustling crowd. He turned around to face the rally once more, warmth enveloping his being at the possibility of meeting the kind and pretty woman again. But the sight in front of him made his stomach fill with dread and he paled visibly. His mother was staring at him, malice dripping from her gaze; it would suffice to say that she was not at all happy with him.

                                     ****

Y/N cursed herself as she hurried towards her cabin in the MACUSA. That interaction should not have happened. It was vital for the assignment that the Barebones remain unaware of her, as much as possible. It was a lapse of judgement on her part when she struck up a conversation with the boy. It would have been easier, wiser even, had she just walked away without stopping. People tended to forget the faces of rude strangers stumbling across their toes as opposed to polite strangers helping them out. But on seeing him she couldn’t bring it in herself to act the part. 

Y/N cursed herself again as she stumbled in her cabin. Sinking wearily into the chair, she pulled the nearest sheaf of papers towards her. She would have to lie low for a while, make sure that her absence and the flow of time did away any traces of recognition from the boy’s mind. Sighing loudly, she read through the paperwork before signing a few and tearing away one or two. A head popped into her cabin, followed by the appearance of a smiling brunette. “Hello Miss Workaholic! Having a long day?” Y/N spared a glance from her work before giving up the day as one of the worse ones. “Abernathy”, she had acknowledged his presence but that didn’t mean she had to have a conversation with him. 

She continued staring at the application for an early release from detainment, not grasping a single letter of the 700 word document, hoping against hope that the man would just let her be. “Tough case?” Apparently not. “Not really.” Curtness and a calm demeanour was the key in such scenarios. “Care to join me for lunch? I was just about to pop out and was hoping you could join me. It’s a lovely day and you shouldn’t waste it cooped up in….” She cut him abruptly, “I’m sorry I can’t. As you can see I’m a bit busy at the moment. Paperwork does make the day long and it won’t complete by itself however much I charm my quills. They haven’t invented the artificial intelligence ones yet I’m afraid.” To hell with calmness, today was just not her day! 

Abernathy gave her a disappointed look before saying, “Well another time I suppose. Oh by the way, Director Graves wanted to see you.” He casually mentioned that as if they were discussing the weather, the oaf! “And you are telling me now! I better see what he wants…” Y/N closed the file before exiting the cabin, Abernathy in tow. “I thought you were popping out for lunch?” She questioned her unwanted companion as he tagged along. He came to a stop as if remembering it suddenly, “Why yes. I..I shall be going then?” He questioned as if seeking permission. But Y/N had long since disappeared, his question echoing emptily across the hallway. 

Y/N hurried towards the upper echelons of MACUSA hoping against hope that she hadn’t made the Director of Magical Security wait for too long. She wondered whether she had unwittingly jinxed herself in the morning or got up on the wrong side of the bed. Or perhaps it was the neighbour’s pet Kneazle crossing her path with a pointed hiss. Mr Smith had always envied her for bagging the road side apartment (something about better natural light) and she wouldn’t put it past him to rub some bad luck potion on his pet in the off chance that it stumbled across her. All in all, the day was going down in the dumps by the looks of it.

When she knocked and entered Percival Graves’ posh cabin, this theory was further bolstered. He was staring at her with a stormy expression, rubbing his temples in a weary manner. “I had hoped you would reach here the moment I called upon you. Tardiness is unbefitting of an Auror of your stature.” His voice was low and razor sharp, cutting the air with the accuracy of a newly sharpened blade. Donning her best professional visage, Y/N answered in a voice smooth as silk, “My apologies Director Graves. I just returned from observing the targets you had assigned me and when I received the message from Mr Abernathy, I came immediately.”

Her boss stared at her, taking her words in and making her uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny. When he spoke, his voice dropped an octave as if distancing himself from the room they were occupying, “Ms Y/L/N I presume that you are not keeping any written accounts of this assignment?” This had been one of the conditions for accepting the case and had made Y/N’s spine tingle with unease. Undocumented missions ensured the highest amount of confidentiality, but at the same time there was a danger of increased responsibility on the Auror. The Director could very well wash his hands off in case things went awry and Y/N would be stuck in inquiries faster than you could say Protego, with no real means of an escape. 

“Yes sir” she answered him, maintaining the façade of calmness. “Good. Though it isn’t a matter of grave concern at the moment, it is imperative on your part that you keep a close eye on them without anyone knowing what you are up to.” She nodded once, showing her acquiescence. “Y/N” he called out. She was thrown off guard by the casual manner in which he addressed her. So very unlike the strict, no nonsense man known as Percival Graves. “You are a valued part of the MACUSA, your skills are unparalleled even amongst our best on field Aurors. You were top of your class and it is a privilege that you chose to work with us instead of your native Ministry of Magic. You will definitely go places.”

Y/N swelled with pride at the praise but a tingle of worry skittered across her conscious. There was something wrong with this. “Thank you, Sir. It’s an honour…” “However, you should be careful of the path upon which you tread. A careless mistake and it could cost you your career. I would be sorry if you followed into the footsteps of Ms Goldstein.” His eyes bore into her, considering her the way a hunter may look upon his prey. The nerve of this man! He was openly threatening her as if she were in the wrong! Steeling herself Y/N replied, “I assure you Sir that something like that will never happen as long as I’m on this case.” She stared into brown eyes, a challenge in her gaze. “Very well. I will expect the usual verbal report the next time you find anything of note.” Noting the unspoken dismissal, Y/N gave a curt nod before excusing herself out of the room.

She hurried towards the sanctuary of her cabin. The moment she entered it, she locked the door, put a muffling charm on the room and extracted the tiny pair of floral earrings from her ears. Setting them on her desk, she waved her wand in the air carefully but nothing happened. She gave a sigh of relief, atleast she was free from worrying about any external unwanted snooping. She then tapped the earrings carefully, a muttered incantation under her breath. The earrings sputtered for a moment before echoing in a voice frighteningly similar to the Director of Magical Security, “I would be sorry if you followed into the footsteps of Ms Goldstein.“ 

Y/N let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding. Who knew learning to enchant everyday items that could record her magical lectures would one day help her in this manner? Graves may have thought himself too brilliant to hoodwink, but she had a few tricks up her sleeve. Slipping on the earrings again, Y/N’s mind went over the conversation once again. Her intuition had been correct. Something about the Barebones was making Graves anxious, so much that he went to the length of threatening her to ensure that the case went smoothly. The picture was too hazy to discern any meaning from currently. But Y/N vowed that she wouldn’t rest till she got to the bottom of this.

A/N: Hah, this was supposed to be a one shot. Though turning it into a series doesn’t seem that bad of an idea. This is a filler chapter, where I’m setting the scene for the oncoming plot. Hope you guys liked my first venture into the fbawtft universe. Please excuse any typos and let me know how you found it. Gif credits to the owner. ~mystical reading nerd

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 45)

They all went to the Trader's Guild first thing in the morning, taking jerky, cookies, and several pounds worth of stewed meat to go. Because of a penalty for “misuse, misinformation, and misconduct” from when Qrow had delivered Weiss' message to Winter, he and her waited in the lobby with the Eluna plushie, while the others—including Zwei—went off to go renegotiate their salaries, be they in Shinies, or in ingredients for baking cookies.

Though not nearly as busy as when Weiss had last been there for the Job Gauntlet, she could still hear that same musical clinking of Shinies being shaken by the counting machines ringing in the air.

“Does this place ever close up shop?” Weiss asked as they sat on a bench. “Even just for a few hours or on holidays?”

“Nope,” Qrow replied, “Guild pretty much handles all financial matters in the Valley bigger than buying booze in bulk off your local grocer, or writing a check to your cousin to pull them through for the next month, after they spent all their Shinies on buying booze in bulk off their local grocer.

“Just think of having all of your human banks, corporations, and insurance companies under one government-run location, and have a few satellite branches for convenience here and there.”

“And how do you protect against corruption? All this money and valuables under one roof is a gigantic temptation for embezzlers.”

“Very, very, very strict regulations, security, and supervision, and much more serious punishments than getting roasted over the Info-Grid, before getting away with it anyway when the red tape and the corruption doesn't let anyone actually do anything,” Qrow replied. “Authoritarianism has its perks.

“Well, that, and the shiftier clerks tend to have governors installed.”

“Governors?”

Qrow pulled up a patch of feathers that covered the back of his neck. He showed off what looked like a tiny stump growing on his skin, where his spine would be. “Guarantee for good behaviour,” he said as he hid it once more. “Mine's a deluxe that also doubles as my chronicle.”

Weiss looked at him in a mix of curiosity and horror.

“We've got ethics here in Fae society, don't worry,” Qrow said. “It's just that they can get VERY flexible when someone like me fucks up, big time.”

“What happened?”

Qrow closed his eyes, trembling as flashes of memories ran through his mind:

A cottage in an isolated island village, one of those “back-to-nature” farming communities that were escaping the city states' governments.

His sister Raven, murder and madness in her eyes, fresh blood dripping from her sword.

Summer, calmly handing him a crying bundle of blankets with two tiny nubs sticking out from it.

“Take care of Ruby for me.”

He looked away, discretely wiped the tears welling in his eyes. “It's… it's a long story, and one that I'm not allowed to tell you anyway, princess...” he muttered as he turned back.

Weiss frowned. “I… I see. Sorry for bringing it up.”

Qrow shrugged. “You didn't know, Weiss.” He stared off into the distance. “None of us did.”

“… I'm going to go review some homework Penny gave me now, if you don't mind,” Weiss muttered as she pulled out her comm-crystal.

“Knock yourself out,” Qrow said, leaning back in his seat.

The others came back while Weiss was in the middle of the beginnings of the Eldan Council, formed from the larger of the independent tribes of Fae that roamed Avalon several millenia ago. Penny and Blake got raises from their original salaries because of their training and education of Weiss in addition to being her parole watchers, Zwei managed to get a sizable advance on his from being “very persuasive,” and for the first time in a thousand years, Ruby changed the Keeper's salary from ingredients for baking chocolate chip cookies.

“Now I'm getting paid in that, and seeds and supplies for the farm so you can eventually grow them yourself!” Ruby announced happily.

Weiss shot out of her seat. “SERIOUSLY?! Ruby, Penny, we are marching back in that office and getting you a better deal!” she said, taking Ruby's hand and dragging her off with her.

“But it is better!” Ruby said as she came with. “Penny said so.”

Weiss stopped, and turned around to Penny.

“I made the calculations: with the sheer amount of calories Ruby needs to consume thanks to all her activity, eventually taking over production of some if not all of the ingredients will have us ending up with far more Shinies than if we took her payment in cash, and bought food with the equivalent amount of caloric content.”

“It's why Keepers have been paid in cookies for all this time, and the amounts were only ever adjusted for inflation,” Qrow added. “Turns out, Gabija and her beau figured out the cheapest, most efficient, and completely complaint-free way to feed these gals without bankrupting themselves, or forcing the Council to spend WAY more than they really need to.”

Weiss stared. “… Are you shitting me right now?!”

Qrow shrugged. “Hey, most of those Keepers went on to live long, happy lives, and have perfectly healthy kids on almost-exclusively cookie-based diets, right?”

“It's supported by their vitae vine data,” Penny said. “Among the many unique physiological quirks of Keepers are their ability to thrive on a diet composed almost entirely of milk, sugar, and chocolate. They're quite the treasure trove of bizarre, baffling phenomena that stump makers to this day.”

Weiss slowly turned to Blake.

She shrugged. <Valley. Don't think too hard: head-hurt.>

Weiss squeezed her eyes shut, and nodded slowly. “Let's go pawn my sister's Eluna plushie...” she muttered.

They had to wait a while at the Loans and Securities section for Nivian-speaking clerks to assist them, as Weiss was considered the borrower and the others were co-signers. Eventually, their number was called, and all of them walked up to the counter.

“Oh hey!” Nora said as she and Ren sat behind the security glass. “What a coincidence! I was wondering what kind of borrower would need someone who knew how to speak Nivian, and then I thought, 'Huh, what if it's Weiss?' and it turns out I was right!

“Isn't that neat?”

Weiss nodded slowly. “Uh… I suppose? Was the Guild short on employees today?”

Ren shook his head. “We're part-time workers here and in lots of other places,” he explained. “Me and Nora used to work all sorts of odd jobs back then, and we never truly lost the habit. So, how may we help you?”

Weiss put the Eluna on the counter. “I'd like to pawn my sister's Eluna plushie.”

Ren's eyes widened, Nora whistled. “Oh, Eluna...” she whispered, “is that an actual, limited edition Eluna plushie? I thought you could only see ones this nice in museums and collections that have their own security staff and fancy systems just for them!”

“No offense, but we'll have to verify that it's authentic first; we're still getting counterfeit Elunas every once in a while...” Ren said as he strapped on some gloves, and pulled out one of the Guild's own magical containers. “Unlock it, please?”

One by one, they pressed their hands, talon, or paw on the bubble, until it disappeared in a flash of magic.

Ren swiftly, carefully grabbed it out of the air and placed it in the Guild's container, a new bubble surrounding it. “Thank you, we'll be right back,” he said as he took it deeper inside.

Nora grabbed her hammer from under the counter and followed him.

Some time later, they returned with an entire cadre of watchers, complete with a guard wolf.

Ren set the Eluna back on the counter. “Good news: it's definitely real, and can be used as collateral for a loan.”

Weiss nodded. “How much is it worth?”

“741,000,000 Shinies,” Ren replied calmly.

Both of Zwei's jaws dropped.

“Holy fucking shit...” Ruby muttered.

Penny blinked. “I am sorry, I had not reserved enough processing power beforehand to comprehend such a large sum.”

<That… that is a LOT of money!> Blake said.

“All this time…” Qrow whispered, “all this time… we were sitting on a fucking Etherite mine…!”

Weiss finally recovered. “Is that in the condition it's in right now?”

“Yes,” Ren replied.

“It's been 12 years since production ended!” Nora added. “That's enough time for all the kids who saw their classmates showing off their Elunas to start earning serious money and want to buy their own, so they can show them up on Storybook and go, 'Look who's got an Ellie NOW, bitch?!'”

“A restoration job and the removal of the tears, snot, and despair smell is nothing compared to what people will pay for an Eluna in good enough condition,” Ren finished.

“How much is that in Urochs…?” Weiss mumbled.

Ren punched in the numbers on his terminal. “49,400,000 Urochs,” he calmly read off the screen.

“And how rich does that make me here in Fae society?” Weiss asked.

“Well,” Nora said, “we could bother you with all sorts of boring statistics about average wages, the cost of living a decent life here, and how much the richest Fae tend to have, or I could just say this:

“Money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, motherfucker!”

“Please don't ask for all of that in cash,” Ren said calmly. “The Bastion does not have enough physical Shinies to pay you, and the logistics of producing that many new gems, shipping it from the other Council settlements, and transporting it to Keeper's Hollow will be EXTREMELY difficult, time-consuming, and complicated.”

Weiss held up a finger. “We'll be right back.”

“Huddle up everyone!” Ruby cried. “Emergency meeting!”

They all moved to one area, with Zwei looming over them and protecting them from eavesdroppers.

“Weiss, you're not TOO attached to that plushie, are you?” Qrow asked.

“Uncle Qrow!” Ruby snapped.

“He does have a point in that selling the Eluna plushie outright will allow us to live very comfortably,” Penny added. “With proper investment, reasonably responsible spending, and no major disasters of any sort, your descendants for the next 1,000 years will most assuredly be living extremely comfortable lives.”

“See?” Qrow said. “Penny's with me!”

“I'm not, actually,” Penny replied, “I'm merely explaining that from a purely financial standpoint, selling the Eluna plushie outright is the better decision. From a more holistic perspective, the loss of such a valued sentimental item, and the definite emotional and psychological repercussions to Weiss makes it a terrible decision.”

“We're getting that Eluna back, Uncle Qrow,” Ruby growled.

They paused for Penny to summarize and translate it for Blake.

<I agree,> she said, <we're not defaulting on that loan.>

Qrow whined. “We could use the money, can't we?”

“Yes, there is no question about that,” Penny replied, “but taking out just a small portion of the total value will allow us more than enough capital to invest into Weiss, her farm, and general improvements to Keeper's Hollow, and give us time to pay off the loan within two or three years and reclaim the plushie.

“We can even safely squeeze in a sizable amount for luxury spending, such as tickets to Eve of the Ether for four of us!”

“But no kicking back with kickass beer and market-bought meat for the rest of our lives…?” Qrow asked.

Penny shook her head. “No, all my calculations assume we continue to earn our current wages or more, and my projections on the return of investment for Weiss' farming and training, erring on the side of caution.”

<Let's vote!> Ruby said. <Sell Eluna, raise your hand!>

Qrow raised his talon.

<Get Eluna back eventually, raise your hand!>

Everyone else raised their hands or their paws.

Qrow sighed. “Alright… alright… you girls win. But can we buy a still with it first, so Weiss here can start making booze…?”

“Yes, we can, so long as you promise to keep up your end of our payments!” Weiss replied.

“I will, I will...” Qrow replied.

Penny redid their plans, and after signing contracts and earmarking money for investments for the long-run, they had four tickets to the Eve of the Ether festival in Candela, four new fake IDs in the works, and some extra money for making costumes and converting into Urochs for the night of the event.

<Are you sure you don't want to come with us to Candela, Uncle Qrow?> Ruby asked as Blake and Weiss had their pictures taken.

Qrow sighed and shook his head. <Nah, you just take Penny, and enjoy yourselves; I'm pretty sure if I meet up with you-know-who again, it'll be anything but a heartwarming reunion.>

Ruby frowned. <She stopped hating you a long time ago—what does that say about him?>

<It's not him I'm worried about, Rubes...> Qrow muttered. He smiled. <Besides, I'll probably just end up getting totally wasted with all the 'witches' brews' going around, and ruin things for everybody.>

Ruby didn't smile back.

<Next!> the photographer called out.

<Go on, they're waiting,> Qrow waved her off.

Ruby sighed, and did.

Penny was ecstatic to hear that she was getting the fourth ticket instead, and had one of the biggest, brightest smiles Qrow had ever seen when she had her picture taken. After they got their fake documentation and Info-Grid histories, memorized all the small details and answers that'd throw off suspicious Peacekeepers, they left the Guild, the girls taking about their costume plans, and Weiss advising them on which places to hit up, and in what order to get the most out of their night.

He knew he should have been happy for them, but he just couldn't shake this feeling in his gut that something very bad was going to happen soon—and as his chronicle would attest, it was never wrong...

Note: 741,000,000 Shinies = 14,820,000 US Dollars

[socialattractionuk]

If you’re using lockdown to get back in touch and apologise to your ex, don’t

(Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk) metro illustrations Illo – How will you have office romances and friendships when everyone’s working remotely?

It’s the modern-day Cinderella story: boy matches with girl, they go on some dates and it starts to go somewhere. 

Sex, and the promise of a new relationship feels good. She tells her friends – ‘it went so well!’ – and looks hopefully towards the next date, only for him to quite suddenly disappear into the abyss. 

She wonders what she did wrong. Was she too keen? Not keen enough? Overdressed? Not pretty enough? 

Then two years later he reappears, uttering those all important words: ‘Long time no speak! You don’t have to reply, but…’ 

This particular move has been given plenty of labels already: zombieing (speaks for itself), submarining (in which a ghoster confidently emerges months later acting like nothing happened). Now, it’s had a lockdown makeover. We’ve entered the age of the F**kboy’s Reckoning*. 

Coronavirus updates

Visit our live blog for the latest updates: Coronavirus news live

Allow me to explain. 

The world has gone topsy turvy, which means that business as usual for anyone — f**kboys included — is no more. For a lot of us that has resulted in an excess of free time. Time to twiddle your thumbs. Time to think. 

Unfortunately, though, all that thinking time has translated into a surge of repentance for many f**kboys who — starved of access to new wanking thinking material while stuck at home — have been finding solace in delving into their repertoire of past lovers. 

Faced with all their past wrongdoing and unable to distract themselves with new lovers, they’re emerging repentant for their sins — and they really want you to know.

Over Easter (quite fittingly) this happened to me. Someone I dated a few years ago who later disappeared into thin air was resurrected in my DMs, apparently not dead afterall. 

At first I read the message outlining his contrition over wrongful behaviour and I couldn’t place the name — I’ll leave it to you to decide what that says about the calibre of his contemporaries.

‘Ohhhh….HIM’, I thought eventually. His crimes had not been too serious… comparatively speaking. We had been on a couple of really good dates a few years ago before he ghosted me. 

‘Okay’, I thought, ‘But why now?’ Why was he getting in touch in the middle of a global pandemic years after the fact?

There’s something almost comforting in the predictability of it — in the inevitability of the return. These ‘boomerang boys’ you lobbed out into the ether that are now on their return voyage back from the abyss to tell you they’re ‘really f**king sorry — honestly’.

They hope you don’t mind them getting in touch. They apologise for disturbing your life — it’s just….it’s just they’ve been thinking. About what went down with the two of you. About the part they played, or the way they left you. They had some stuff going on, they’ll say, but it wasn’t fair, you didn’t deserve it. 

‘Sorry’, they’ll say, and then reassure you that they’re not looking for anything in return, just that they feel compelled to apologise.

To any f**kboys out there edging towards a moment of reckoning, I have some advice: keep it in your notepad pal

Now, you might be thinking, ‘that’s nice isn’t it, that they want to repent, to apologise’. Of course, I can’t speak for everyone. But, for me, it’s a hard ‘no’. 

Yes, it is nice to be apologised to for pain you have been exposed to at the hands of another. But make no mistake about it, this behaviour is more about appeasing the conscience of the ghost, rather than a selfless act to rebalance your emotional health. 

There’s a self-importance to it all that is wildly frustrating — not only are they asking you to let them off the hook for something they did in the past, but there’s also an assumption that whatever form your engagement took was so meaningful that it would provoke a deep hurt only remedied by the grand gesture of their apology.

Perhaps the lockdown and the whole dystopian scenario currently playing out in countries all across the world has thrown his life into sharp focus. That sitting alone with his feelings has caused him to reflect on past behaviours and recognise wrongdoing. Good. That’s honestly productive behaviour. The thing is, I don’t need to hear about it.

Because to ask someone to forgive inexcusable behaviour that caused them hurt in the past — apropos of nothing — means shifting the emotional legwork involved in reaching a resolution back onto them. 

Not only that but it also doesn’t consider that maybe the person doesn’t need reminding of sh***y past behaviour inflicted on them in a time of global crisis. But mostly because it’s a paper-thin grasp at a bit of attention when they’re presumably at home feeling lonely… and in need of some tit pics. 

Of course, maybe it’s genuine. And I’m not arguing for a lack of repentance. It’s an expressly Good Thing to recognise past mistakes and learn from them. It’s how we grow as humans. 

The point is, you just don’t know what the context is when you barge into someone’s life unannounced and, ultimately, any apology like this has very little to do with its subject, and everything to do with easing the sender’s own guilt.

To any f**kboys out there edging towards a moment of reckoning, I have some advice: keep it in your notepad pal.

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If you really must reach out, try a simple ‘Hey how are you?’

Simple, effective and gives the other person the power to engage if and when it feels safe and comfortable to — it puts the ball in their court. If they’re ready for or interested in your apology, your message invites them to let you know.

But if not, then maybe — just maybe — sitting with your feelings and reflecting on your behaviour is enough. Maybe instead of asking forgiveness you could make a commitment to never treating someone like that ever again. Just a thought.

For the moment, my f**kboy has been left on read. Although I might send him this article as a response. 

*There are definitely female and non-binary versions of this character, but I speak from personal experience here.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk 

Share your views in the comments below

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[topicprinter]

Hey - Pat from StarterStory.com here with another interview.Today's interview is with Andrew Norton of SkyAlliance, a brand that sells travelSome stats:Product: TravelRevenue/mo: $2,800Started: March 2019Location: HertfordshireFounders: 1Employees: 1Hello! Who are you and what business did you start?Hello. My name is Andrew Norton and I am the CEO & Founder of SkyAlliance Limited®. SkyAlliance is a travel search engine which allows you to find cheap flights, hotels, holiday packages and car hire all over the world.The company was founded back in March of this year and has excelled beyond my or anyone's expectations. SkyAlliance welcomes new and unique customers each month looking to book their holidays, business trips and/or trips back home.Based on our data, last month (June 2019) https://skyalliance.co.uk welcomed over 3,504 unique web visitors. Today the company generates an average income of £2.300/month. I started from earning nothing to earning a basic living wage from pursuing a goal I once thought not possible.5 years ago I knew nothing about web design, coding and software development, and today, I own a company that sends people away to various destinations and supplies them with another means of travel, all based on the 3 elements I knew nothing about.imageWhat's your backstory and how did you come up with the idea?It all started at Heathrow Airport. I was and currently still work at the airport as a security officer in Terminal 5.When I first started the role I had learned how to develop software, code and also web design. However, I didn’t know what direction of business to pursue with these skills. In the role of a security officer, you interact with the masses of passengers passing through every working day.I would often come across a certain type of passenger that really concerned me. Passengers who had missed their flights. I once met a lady who was distraught about missing her flight to New York one Sunday afternoon.It was her first time flying. She opened up to me about how she was charged £200 more to rebook her flight. I thought to myself that this was totally unacceptable and I wanted to help this lady, but at the moment in time I could not do anything to assist her.That’s when the idea of building a travel search engine sparked into my head. “What if I could build something to help people like this?” (I actually said that to myself). So I got to work. Within a year I had built my initial platform. Now to validate that everything worked perfectly I thought I’d share my platform with some of my work friends. The only way to validate everything was up and running to perfection was to wait for my first booking.Take us through the process of designing, prototyping, and manufacturing your first product.Designing the product was difficult at the start. There are so many aspects you have to take into account, but the most important factor for me to consider was how my business was going to make a first impression to my visitors. My first ever thought before I started building scared me a little bit:“How on earth am I going to put the data of 336 airline web results and up to 1.1 million hotels into one display and respond to input requests?”I knew then, once I had to start, it was going to be a long journey for me. I set up many API’s from websites to get the ball rolling. I had to request access to these API’s which took the most time to complete. But once I had gained access, my next task was to build the framework to display these search results.For obvious reasons I can’t go into much detail but it took a lot of learning from my mistakes to complete the initial setup. I had to hire a few friends who also specialise in web design to give me a few pointers. Do not be afraid to ask for help.Within 6 months, the engine was complete and I was ready to go. I had a lot of setbacks, A LOT. Sometimes one issue would set me back weeks, I could have given up but I kept saying there is always an answer, always! That gave me the motivation to continue and I’m so happy I did. It just shows you that giving up when the going gets tough, is a test to see how you respond to situations, and if you give up, you fail.Always tell yourself you can do it, no matter how tough the obstacle is because sometimes the answer is right in front of you. You just need to be looking in the right place. Remember what I did with the Facebook Pixel? I couldn’t spend money, so I used tools I already had access to.My next step was to make sure my site met all the standards of GDPR and international law. I sat down with a lawyer to make sure I was covering each and every possible flaw. The SkyAlliance Privacy Policy, Cookie Policy & Terms of Service Agreement took a month to complete. Overall, the cost to build my company, design & advertise it has cost me just shy of £4,360. You may think that’s a lot of money, and so did I. But I now use it as a target and an investment. The target I now use is: “By December 2019, I’m going to get my money back. And double it.” Don’t dwell on the money you invest into your company, you need to invest. With the right attitude to make it a success, you’ll get triple your investment through revenue. Challenge yourself.My good friend Zach Jenkins was my first ever booking. He booked a hotel in Las Vegas through my website, and my initial thought was to just pray everything went well for him, because it wasn’t like he was taking a weekend trip to Scotland.A month passed and I had asked Zach to keep me updated on how his booking experience goes, for my records. I received a message from Zach a few weeks later saying he would like to promote my company on LinkedIn as he had booked a lovely hotel in Las Vegas for a very below average price whilst his friends had paid more for the same hotel.I was relieved, and for me, that was confirmation that the platform was ready to become operational to the general public.The only issue was money. I had a very small budget to work with as I had to pay for my car, insurance, phone etc. I had to take all of that into account when advertising. But I had no choice, for the business to grow, I had to spend. So I did it the smart way, a way I wouldn’t get a bad turnout on my ads. I took full advantage of the things around me. I used what’s known as a Facebook Pixel. What a Facebook Pixel does, is it tracks people when they visit your website and sends the data to you. It also tracks other aspects of what people do on your site. Just be careful using this Pixel. With recent GDPR laws, you must make your visitors aware they are being tracked through third-party advertisers. Otherwise, you could receive a penalty for violating GDPR laws.My next step was to wait for some traffic to visit my website. After a few days I created a Facebook advertising audience based off of my pixel. That way, I know that everyone my ad is shown to, has had an interest in my business and more likely to interact with my ad. It worked. I spend £1 a day on all of my ads, and receiving hundreds and hundreds of unique visitors every month. So, if you are struggling with advertising for your business, consider using a Facebook Pixel, that way you’re not hoping someone takes an interest in your business, you know for certain that they already have at some point in the last 30 days!Describe the process of launching the business.Launching an online travel business in 2019 was difficult but in order to do so, you had to stand out from the crowd.So, my first task was to look into other companies to see what I can do that they aren’t. Shockingly, the primary feature all of them were lacking was customer service. I found many customers with questions/issues on their forums waiting months for a response. To me, this was the reason I got into this business, to help people.I took this into account when designing the SkyAlliance website, you’ll find that there is always an option close by to contact us if you need it. Whether it’s through the use of a feedback form, or through our ‘Contact us’ page, support is only a click away. You’ll find our feedback form disguised as a blue light bulb hovering on the right-hand side of your browser when you visit www.skyalliance.co.uk.This form has 3 options for you to leave your feedback:I like somethingI don’t like somethingI have an ideaimageNow, these have been carefully worded and if you are to fill out our feedback form, you’ll notice we would love for you to provide as much detail as you can for each selection. If you have an idea of something we could add/remove from the website, do tell us! All submitted feedback forms are sent to me directly and I review each and every one of them. And if you leave an email for me to contact you, I will do so. If you have an idea, I will discuss it with you. If we see a demand for whatever it may be, we will apply it and also credit those responsible for bringing it to my attention.Financing the businessFinancing SkyAlliance has all come from my own pocket. This was a pain sometimes as one month I could purchase one product, then have to wait another month until I was paid again to purchase another. But for me that was the best decision as I didn’t want to take out a loan just in case I could not pay it back.I’d rather spend my paycheck and owe myself, then owe a bank and watch the interest rise until I paid it back. My biggest lesson from the long year and a half it took to start up my company was to power through until the job was done. Just go for it. If you are in the position I was 1 and half years ago, with an idea but do not know how to execute it, at least try. Yes, you will get negative people saying “You can’t pull that off”, “You won’t get that big as a company”, or the classic, “Someone’s already done that”.But the truth is, they don’t know what your capable of, and the scary part is, neither are you. Those people are irrelevant. Use them as a means to prove them wrong. You have absolutely nothing to lose, but so much to gain if you pull it off.Pursue. Your. Dreams.No matter how bizarre your vision is, there’s always a way to make a success out of it. Like I said, the answer is right in front of you, as long as you are looking in the right place.Since launch, what has worked to attract and retain customers?Loyalty. Without a doubt the most important feature in retaining customers is the loyalty SkyAlliance shows to them.I have and always will maintain a policy here that the customer is not to be disrespected, and if they need help, we don’t go home until the job is done. We aim to respond to queries as soon as we can and we put the best of our relevant teams on each case.This works both ways, you show loyalty to your customers through customer service, and as long as your product is good, they’ll come back and choose you no matter how big of a company your competitor is. Loyalty and customer service lack in today’s world. Use it to your advantage.To market SkyAlliance we use a few methods, but not a lot:Google AdsFacebook AdsInstagram AdsApple App StoreNow you may be thinking hang on, why aren’t you taking advantage of every advertising platform to maximise reach? And I would say to you, good question. But there is a very simple explanation as to why SkyAlliance only advertises on a few platforms. No one likes ads when browsing the internet or using an app do they?For an average internet browser, ads just get in the way and disrupt whatever it is they are doing. And people remember the ad and who put that ad up. And to be honest with you, it annoys me too when I’m shopping online and an ad for tennis pops up. I don’t want SkyAlliance being subject to that. Even though it’s not up to us where our ad shows online, the customer will not be happy that we have interrupted them. That’s a very easy way to lose a potential customer, by annoying them, it does happen. So we don’t.We advertise on Google Search and our ads pop up when a customer is looking for something travel based. Because then, you pop up when they need you. They explore your service and are more likely to purchase a product from you because you showed up when they needed you, not when you need them.It’s the same with Facebook & Instagram, we only have audiences based off of our Pixel. That way, we know that we are advertising to people who have shown an interest in our business within the last 30 days, rather than giving someone else with no interest in travelling at all, another ad to scroll past. It makes sense to the company and the audience you are targeting. Placing an ad and hoping an audience will respond is the same as playing the lottery. Placing an ad to an audience who have shown an interest in your company themselves, is more likely to show results. Simply put, it’s a win-win.Email marketing is another promotional method we use. Again, we use this method to benefit the customer. We ask them to sign up to receive weekly travel deals, which we send. This way, we earn a subscriber and another channel for promotion, and the customer takes advantage of travel deals they do not have to search for themselves. Easy right? For promotion, as long as you keep the customers interests at heart, you can’t lose. The way you do that is ask yourself, if I saw my ad online, would I want to click on it and investigate further? Does the text pull me in? Does the image I’ve used stand out from any other ad? If I saw this ad whilst browsing for a topic completely different, would I click on that? Put yourselves in the shoes of your target audience and once you do that, you feel how they feel.How do we retain customers? Simple answer is, we don’t. If we receive word through email that a customer isn’t happy with our service and will not be visiting again, we respect that decision. We kindly ask what had happened and if we cannot rectify the situation as best we can, we let them go. If you poke an angry snake in a corner, is it going to learn to love you, or is it going to make it its top priority to attack you defending itself? Truth is, you shouldn’t press angry customers, you show them more respect. Even if they attack your business. Once they calm down, some people will realise how they reacted and will apologise. They will also take into account how you treated them when they were complaining, and that’s the key. As of right now, we haven’t received any sort of complaints from our customers, but we have contingency plans in place to deal with those situations with respect.How are you doing today and what does the future look like?The future looks bright. We will continue to pursue the same vision we started out with. As a team, we will also maintain our platform to a high standard and keep our customer service level above average. That’s the plan.We have adopted a new means of attracting new traffic by giving away free flights to select destinations. We hold giveaways on our Facebook page every month. Today, our product is in a position we would like it to be in today’s world, easily accessible from multiple channels, easy to navigate and a clear focus on what we serve. We plan on expanding our reach to new customers but for now we need to let word of mouth work it’s magic to bring in more customers so we can afford to expand.Our goal as a business is to become well known for giving a fantastic service and also supplying customers with what they were looking for. We are always working on speed and accessibility improvements to our service and apps. And we will maintain that focus for years to come.Through starting the business, have you learned anything particularly helpful or advantageous?I’ve learned a bit of both to be honest. I’ve made mistakes, many of them. But they have helped me to learn more about myself and become a better version of myself. Whenever I made a mistake, I had to get past it to progress, in my head there was no other option. A rookie error I was making time and time again was rushing tasks to just get them done. Often these mistakes would set me back days as I would have to go back and rectify them. My biggest breakthrough was convincing myself to take my time until the product was perfect. The urge to launch and get my company out there was outweighing the standard of the product I was making.Now, the little details matter to me. I’ve seen what time and effort has equalled to and seeing the end product has made me develop a keen eye for detail. What I mean by little details are the style of the menu icon on a mobile browser, fonts, colours, what the company logo represents, stuff like that, things that I would have once overlooked. Starting up a business is a constant learning curve, and for me, you constantly learn more and more about yourself. It’s all a course to seeing how you can become your own leader. Music was the biggest element in me getting rid of old habits and adopting new ones. Taking a breather from everything for a minute, an hour or even a few days really refreshed my brain and opened my eyes up to what I wasn’t seeing. Those moments really showed me why taking breaks is highly important and I now respect that.My biggest decision as CEO is developing new partnerships and the best deals I have made are with travel bloggers. I constructed a system where we both benefit. We both need things the other has. SkyAlliance needed the mass exposure, and the blogger is looking for a paycheck. So what I did was offer bloggers a cut of every booking made on their own sites (powered by us) and in return we would get the mass exposure when they promote our services. And that has really boosted our sales. We’ve welcomed more customers I never thought we would. Celebrities, famous bloggers and interest from others has put us on the radar, and I’m excited for what the future holds.Running this company has taught me a lot about the timing and precision needed to launch certain products at certain times of the year. An example, we have a travel blog, we can’t write articles about summer in winter as no one is thinking about summer in winter. Writing blog articles about winter destinations will bring in more traffic as that is the trend at that current moment in time. With regards to our giveaways, my team and I try really hard to send people away to destinations that are in fashion at that time of year. This method has generated a lot of interest into these giveaways and lead people to check us out. And that’s the ultimate goal, reach. Even if it means a lot of waiting, timing the release of a product can make or break you as a business. Would you sell christmas trees in March or would you sell them in December? You do the math. Think.What platform/tools do you use for your business?My favourite tools are our widgets. For those of you that do not know what a widget is, a widget is an application, or a component of an interface, that enables a user to perform a function or access a service (source: Google). To simplify that, a widget is a small section of the bigger product put into a frame for you to use and distribute over the internet. Sort of like a mobile phone is a smaller version of your laptop, you can take your phone anywhere, your laptop, not so much.We use lots of widgets and they are designed in a way to make the booking experience easier for our customers, relevant information in the right place and very simple to use. We take into account that not everyone uses technology and we need to be able to reach out to those people as well. Using widgets, we are able to guide them through the booking process much easier. A few of our widgets are displayed on our website: www.skyalliance.co.uk.What have been the most influential books, podcasts, or other resources?Probably my biggest inspiration throughout all of this for me is Apple. The way the company is run, the cleanliness of their website, the speed of their products...they just scream perfection to me. The most inspirational aspect is how they started, their journey and how they have helped millions of people across the world. They have the same goals as me and I’d love to have a status such as Apple’s. Being known for cleanliness, an eye for detail, leaving no stone unturned, these things make companies nowadays and Apple has it down to a tee for me.My other source of inspiration is negative people. People who want to see me fail. I love that. More people to prove wrong. If you doubt me, it doesn’t knock me down, it makes me work harder to just see the look on your face when I succeed. I use them as a motivation. I look at them and question what they have achieved against what I have, do they really have the right to put me down? No. So I show them why I am where I am today. Hard work and perseverance.Advice for other entrepreneurs who want to get started or are just starting out?I do. Just go for it. What have you got to lose? Your reading this article on me so you obviously have the right mindset to look for help. You need a push in the right direction from someone whose done it, I know that because I’ve been in your shoes. The question you have to ask yourself is, are you ready for change? Running a business is only a task for a select few, and 99% of that is having the right mindset. Use hate as a weapon for success. Use mistakes as a way to become a better version of you. The biggest battle is against yourself. Ask yourself now how bad you want it, how far you’ve come, and what the future could hold for you. Don’t let anyone tell you no. You want that deal, that office, that business, that customer, then go and get them!You have to realise, yes, the life you live may be great right now, and you may feel that it wouldn’t matter if your idea succeeds or not. But, the truth is, it can get a whole lot better if you want it to. Ask yourself, wouldn’t you rather give it a go than dwell on what could have happened once it’s too late? Because trust me, you will regret that decision. If it succeeds, you earn, people remember your name, you win. If it doesn’t, nothing changes in your life. I can’t stress enough that you have nothing to lose from trying. I didn’t want to follow the stereotype of going to school, getting my qualifications, go to work and then retire for the rest of my life. I wanted to make a name for myself, provide a service to others and be remembered. And I know for a fact that because you’re reading this, you want the same. You have what it takes, and hopefully this advice will push you into pursuing your dreams. I look forward to shaking your hand one day. And hey, if you need a mentor or another motivational push, give me an email - andrew@skyalliance.co.uk, I’d be more than happy to answer any questions you may have about running your business.Where can we go to learn more?Website: www.skyalliance.co.ukFacebook: @SkyAllianceUKEmail: andrew@skyalliance.co.ukTravel Blog: https://skyalliance.co.uk/newsSkyAlliance Broadband: https://broadband.skyalliance.co.uk (more info below)One last thing, SkyAlliance has just launched a UK broadband fare aggregator. Alongside our travel platform, we also compare UK broadband. For low Home, TV, Mobile broadband please visit: https://broadband.skyalliance.co.uk.If you have any questions or comments, drop a comment below!Liked this text interview? Check out the full interview with photos, tools, books, and other data.For more interviews, check out r/starter_story - I post new stories there daily.Interested in sharing your own story? Send me a PM

[drmarkwrites-blog]

“THE PERSONS BEHIND THE SCENES DAY!” (11/10/18)

“When they had approached Jerusalem and had come to Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, then Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village opposite you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied there and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to Me.  If anyone says anything to you, you shall say, ‘The Lord has need of them,’ and immediately he will send them.” (Matthew 21:1-3 NASB)

Since the greeting card companies can expand the number of days, stipulating where special people in our lives are recognized and sent cards of appreciation, let us follow their lead and lift up some of those behind the scenes persons in our lives who are making or have made a difference in all our lives. Okay? Well then it is decided, today is officially dubbed and formally designated as “The Person Behind the Scenes Days!” The owner of the colt that the disciples went into the village to find is unnamed, unrecognized, and let’s go ahead and say it, “Unsung.” He was an important, integral part of the story of Jesus imminent and triumphant entry into Jerusalem. He was “The Person Behind the Scenes.” Now, surely there are some people in your lives; persons who had a positive impact on your life and played roles, ranging from the shaping of your development to the sustaining of your church through required business activities and or unnoticed/unknown acts to maintain the facility.  I’m positive that there was someone who did your parents a favor and watched your house from across the street, ensuring your safety while your Mom and Dad were off working to support the family.  You didn’t even know it!  Perhaps there was a person who you never knew who generously gave, not loaned, money from their own meager bank accounts to ensure that your family had a meal to eat.  One of you reading this may have had a stranger who helped you when you were stranded and to this very day, you still do not know that person’s name. Your safety was in jeopardy, but you are still living until this day.  Be thankful for him, but also for the person(s) behind the scenes that prayed for that family member to get home safely.  You were not aware it, but you definitely should appreciate that person. The public servants like police officers, firemen, and the countless support staff at the hospital that you don’t even know exist, but who are looking out for you, behind the scenes. They deserve this special, new holiday! So, does the unseen and unsung, night maintenance staff that cleans your child’s school or your workplace and depart before start time.  There are also drivers of the salt trucks who work double shift while you sleep! We complain about the streets, but what would they be like without these worn out souls sacrificing their time to serve you? All those I just mentioned, they are behind the scenes and this is there day!  And how about the forgotten, yet forgiven dads who fled the scene by choice or not, but never failed to support their children even though they were absent.  You may say it was their fault, but there are some where that is not necessarily true.  Nevertheless, forget that debate, and think about those unseen dads who struggle, just so the family left behind can be supported financially.  There are some of those who not only did that, but they also found Jesus who has changed them and now, behind the scenes, are supporting others emotionally and spiritually!  After you stop thinking about the last one that I just listed, meditate on this day, start thinking about all the persons behind the scenes, especially the unseen veterans of our armed forces, who you should thank God for and, given the opportunity or perhaps even make the opportunity and express your appreciation to them!  Now, as I always try to remember to remind you, tomorrow is Sunday. So, when you go to your place of worship and you pick up a Prayer Request Form for the altar call prayer, hand your pastor a form or even an informal piece of paper that mentions an unnamed person who you thought about today; just one who played a positive role or roles in your life, behind the scenes.  You can do it anonymously if you so choose.  Then, after that, thank the Lord for all the ways He has worked behind the scenes for your benefit!  Oh yes, give thanks to the Lord!  

“God’s your Guardian, right at your side to protect you—Shielding you from sunstroke, sheltering you from moonstroke.  God guards you from every evil, he guards your very life. He guards you when you leave and when you return, he guards you now, he guards you always.”  (Psalm 121:5-8 The Message Bible)

Still committed to the climb, Mark L. King  

[ramialkarmi]

How an 111-year-old brand is trying to make old-fashioned greeting cards relevant for millennials

Since American Greetings went private in early 2013, it has pivoted to a new strategy, focusing on making greeting cards relevant in a digital age.

It has done so by adopting an empathy-laden approach, focused on millennial consumers.

The brand has encouraged meaningful conversations including tough or uncomfortable situations like infertility, for example, and also dabbled in live events

A young girl walks into a tattoo parlor visibly on edge, shuffling her feet and nudging her hair behind her ear. She settles into the chair, as an artist begins inscribing her wrist. When he’s done, she pulls out a greeting card and we finally see what the tattoo says: "Keep Shining," written in her mother’s handwriting from the card.

"I think she would have liked it," the girl says, confirming that the tattoo wasn’t a rebellious teen act, but rather, a touching tribute to her mother that has probably passed.

"Tattoo," released on Mother’s Day this May, perfectly encapsulates how 111 year-old brand American Greetings is flipping how greeting cards have been traditionally advertised on its head. Since the company went private in early 2013, the company has pivoted to a new strategy, focusing on making greeting cards relevant in a digital age.

"People aren’t sending greeting cards the way they used to just for birthdays or anniversaries," Alex Ho, American Greetings’ chief marketing officer, told Business Insider. "With the communication overload happening today, greeting cards have become a means of deeper, more meaningful connections with the people that most matter to them and those are the connections we’re trying to drive."

It’s not an easy task. The past few decades haven’t been particularly smooth-sailing for greeting card companies. The advent of the internet has hit the industry hard, which is struggling to stay relevant in an age when emoji-ridden texts, ephemeral Snapchat wishes and Facebook wall posts have all but replaced tactile paper cards.  

Between 2011 and 2016, revenues are expected to have declined at an annualized rate of 6 per cent to $401.7 million, according to a 2016 trend report by research company IBIS World. Projections out to 2021 show further revenue declines and fewer sales outlets for greeting cards. American Greetings itself was forced to go exit the New York Stock Exchange after its worth had shrunk by 65 percent back in 2013. (It makes about $1.8 billon in revenue today.) 

In such a landscape, the company believes that an empathy-led approach will help it tap into the millennial mindset. The idea is to reach this audience through real, authentic storylines that play to their lifestyles and interests and help them define how to create meaningful ways to connect with one another, including tough or uncomfortable situations like the one above – or infertility, for example.

"Our advertising strategy is to find these topics that make customers tick, and remind them about the relevance of greeting cards in today’s digital world," said Ho.

The brand also tries to find shared value with its consumers and spark conversations with them that are grounded in some sort of purpose. Back in 2015, for example, the company ran a campaign called "The ThankList," enlisting big names like Arianna Huffington and Elizabeth Banks to encourage people to express gratitude. The card maker asked fans to compile their own lists on a digital portal, where they could thank any people that helped shape their lives. Users’ messages were then aggregated into a collective, immersive digital collage.

Despite the digital disruption, American Greetings believes that greeting cards are complementary to digital communication, whether that’s a snap or a tweet. And so, the brand has also been tapping into experiential marketing to show how greeting cards can coexist with, and in fact, complement digital.

Last year, for example, the company set up shop at the South by Southwest interactive festival in Austin, Texas. It let attendees try out do-it-yourself printmaking and pop-up cards, learn about lettering techniques from an artist, get thread-stitched selfies, fill in a coloring-book mural and even create analog GIFs. 

This year, it upped its game by marking its presence at CES in Las Vegas, piquing consumer interest by talking about "a device like no other." The device, of course, was the greeting card, and the experiential event was a space designed to inspire meaningful conversations in the midst of what is arguably one of the world’s most chaotic trade show. More than 2,400 greeting cards were written and mailed by American Greetings.

American Greetings’ message – especially the focus on uncomfortable topics– isn’t exactly what you would call a safe strategy. But it might end up paying off, said Stephen Boidock, director of marketing and business development at Austin-based agency Drumroll.

"You expect a greeting card company to come to you in one way, and sell packaged holidays,” he said. “But when it makes itself relevant in an actual real life scenario, it makes you think that it actually cares about you and the things that you value."

Its focus on millennials may not necessarily be misguided either. Younger card buyers and those who are more technologically savvy are currently the ones most engaged in buying paper greeting cards online, according to the Greeting Card Association, and the tradition will also likely continue.

"It’s the same reason that vinyl records are making a comeback," said Drumroll’s Boidock. "There's something nostalgic and of value to hand someone something that is handwritten, tactile and can be felt."

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