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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 2 years

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Bound, Part 4

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Tim watched the family car roll into the driveway, his chin just barely aching where it rested on the windowsill. He’d been waiting for what felt like hours for them to come home, though he still didn’t quite know what he wanted from his darling parents.

On the one hand, he wanted them to rush up the stairs and demand an explanation for his recent outbursts and misbehavior. He would be happy to explain, if that was what they wanted. Questioning his thought process, at the very least, meant that they cared enough to know why. Maybe that would mean that they would care enough to try and solve the problem. Even if the concern was manufactured, built out of love for their assets rather than any real love they held for him, he would accept it because it was at least something.

Part of him, the part that knew this would never happen, wanted his parents to hurt. He would be happy if they felt even a fraction of the way that he had. He wanted them to find that camera, broken on the floor, and he wanted them to shatter because something they loved was no longer available to them. He wanted them to scream and sob until their throats hurt and their eyes had no more tears left to cry. He wanted them to be angry and sad and disappointed all at once. That part didn’t care what they thought of him, as long as they thought of him.

Tim heard the door to his room swing open, hitting the plaster of his bedroom wall with a sickening crack. He spun to look at his parents. His father’s face was bright red with fury, a large vein visible in his forehead. His mother was, in contrast, remarkably pale outside of the dark red blood dripping from where she held the broken camera in a vice grip.

He worried his lip nervously, eyes zipping from his father’s face to his mother’s and then back again.

His father tried for a smile, his lips pulling upwards, but it ended up looking more like a snarl than anything. “Timothy, do you know how much that camera cost?”

“$479.99 without tax,” Tim said carefully.

More blood dripped from his mother’s hands as she pressed down harder on the already ruined device in her hands.

“So, you know how expensive it was,” the man said, his voice starting out high in surprise and then dipping downwards abruptly at the end in anger.

Tim considered, briefly, mentioning that the expense would likely go unnoticed among all of the other big expenses that assaulted their bank account every month.

“Just what were you thinking?!” his mother hissed.

Tim’s eyes blew wide and for a moment he was speechless. How could it have worked?

Well, it didn’t. Unfortunately, it had been a rhetorical question: “Don’t. I don’t want to hear your excuses,” she said the moment he dared to open his mouth. “I thought we had taught you better than this, but clearly not.”

You’ve never taught me anything at all, Tim thought, but he kept his lips firmly pressed together.

“I hope we don’t have to tell you that you’re grounded. You’re smart enough to figure that out on your own, aren’t you?” his father scoffed.

Tim nodded.

His father’s lips twitched upwards into a wry smile. “Just checking. With your recent behavior, it has been hard to tell.”

Tim sucked in a breath, wondering whether this was it.

“No leaving the house,” his mother warned.

He nodded again, even as his fists clenched at his sides and his mind reeled. That was all he got? A grounding – one that meant he would see them even less – and a single snide comment that acknowledged what he was doing?

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up, but this was…

His parents filed out the door and the key to Tim’s room gleamed in his father’s hand.

Tim wanted to run over and steal the keys, and then keep running. He wanted to grab his parents by the shoulders and force them to actually look for once. He wanted to scream. He wanted to beg for forgiveness.

But none of that would get much of a reaction. And, god, he didn’t care whether it was a good reaction or a bad one at this point, as long as it was something. He didn’t need them to understand him, he just needed them to see him.

“I hate you!” he snapped, and it might have even been true. The feelings he had for his parents were complicated and contradictory and suffocating, but he still had feelings. He cared so much about what they wanted, what they thought of him.

But they didn’t care at all, and the lock to his door clicked into place.

Tim stared at the door for a long time. He had heard that, if you look at something for long enough, you’ll begin to hallucinate that it’s moving. But it stayed firmly closed and his parents remained as far away from him as possible.

He pulled the replacement camera out from under his bed and set it in his lap, looking down at the device. He turned it over in his hands a few times, suddenly understanding his mother’s urge to crush their own copy. But he didn’t. He fiddled with knobs, flipped through family pictures that had gotten more and more sparse over the years, clicked the shutter a few times…

When had everything gone wrong?

Had it ever been right in the first place?

Tim hadn’t known when he had skipped his English class that he wasn’t going to be going back to school. It hadn’t been intentional, not really. He was just supposed to leave for the one boring class that he normally fell asleep in (his teacher said he had a high school reading level anyways, thanks to all of the useless archaeology books he had read, so it wasn’t like it mattered), grab lunch that was actually edible, and then slip back in right as the bell rang for his next class.

But he stayed out.

There was something about the city that lured him further and further away from the school, fingertips tracing graffiti-lined walls, feet kicking an old can he had found on the street. However stupid it may have sounded, the city felt lived in. Everywhere he looked was another sign that people had been there, if not an actual person.

He wasn’t one of them, not really. He moved among them like a ghost, neither seen nor heard, but that wasn’t anything new. He could satisfy himself with just being among them, an outsider looking in on their lives.

He didn’t need to be close to anyone, as long as he felt like he was.

He liked it out there. Even while he had gotten chided for tracking dirt into the house while he made his way back upstairs, he couldn’t seem to keep the smile off of his face.

He went back the moment he was sure his parents were asleep.

Tim heard the quiet fwip of a butterfly knife being opened and his hand stilled where it had been offering a stray cat some food.

Honestly, it was kind of inevitable. He was more surprised that he had lasted two whole months exploring Gotham without getting robbed than he was about the blade pressing into the small of his back. Good on the universe for trying to fix its mistakes.

“Your pockets. Empty them,” the mugger ordered, straight to the point. Every Gothamite knew the drill, anyways.

But, even if this was nothing unexpected, panic still swelled in his throat until it was hard to swallow.

He dropped the scrap of chicken and slowly, carefully, started reaching for the cracked phone in his back pocket and the wallet hidden in his hoodie.

The cat darted forward to grab the food and then rushed past Tim and his attacker.

And Tim, frazzled and jumpy, had watched the cat run off, eyes tracing its path.

Which meant that he broke the one rule that came with being mugged: don’t turn around.

Marinette shuffled the notecards in her hands for the hundredth time. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest and she wished that she had passed on that third cup of coffee… but, really, what else was she supposed to do? Her soulmate had taken to wasting what seemed like every hour of their day doing exercise, which meant that she had to deal with phantom pains and their lingering exhaustion.

But now the coffee was mingling with her anxiety in all of the worst ways and she was suffering from Heart Achy Syndrome.

And why was she so scared, you may ask?

A presentation for school.

… yeah, she knew she was overreacting a little, but it wasn’t like she could control her anxiety!

Mme. Bustier called her name and she rushed to her feet, unsure where all the sudden restless energy came from but willing to take it and run with it – metaphorically, though she wouldn’t have minded literally either. She headed up to the front of the class, to the chalkboard, and picked up the chalk. She hated the feeling of it in her fingers and hated the sound even more as she wrote the words ‘Water Cycle’… but this was for a grade. Mme. Bustier had told them they would all be teaching a class (something about how you don’t truly understand something until you can teach it yourself). She needed to do everything perfectly to make up for the fact that she was reading from notecards.

Of course, this all went out the window as her head jerked to the side, carried by an invisible blow, and she listed to the side. Notecards spilled and the chalk rolled across the floor as she threw out her hands to catch herself, only to hiss in pain when her right wrist seemed to snap under her weight.

She spun as quickly as she could to try and see her attacker, but was met with nothing.

She struggled to make sense of this until she felt knees crash into pavement she wasn’t anywhere near and realized that it wasn’t her that was getting hurt.

Ah, so that was why she had been so anxious, she thought to try and stave off the bile threatening to rise in her throat and the sobs building in her chest.

Though this was only one of many worries because a deep red slash appeared on her forearm, sending every thought that wasn’t a swear word out the window.

Tears blurred her vision – or did her soulmate have a concussion? – and it was all she could do to even sit upright. She could see dark figures leaning over her, dwarfing the strange yellow lighting of the room, speaking in tongues that she couldn’t even close to understand.

She squinted up at them, trying to make sense of anything at all.

But she couldn’t.

So, when she felt something big and heavy slam into her stomach, she gave in to her body’s pleas to close her eyes.

Tim felt like his body had been thrown into an air fryer and then dropped on the floor. He wondered if this was the end, if he was going to die alone in a cold, dingy alleyway.

How long would it take his parents to notice if he passed away right here?

But, as the mugger advanced on him, butterfly knife pointed at his chest, Tim noticed something flicker in his vision… or, at least, he hoped it was something flickering out of the corner of his eyes and not his actual vision starting to fail him.

He forced his legs to slide him backwards, scraping his back against the concrete beneath him, but he would do anything for just a few more seconds.

Which ended up giving him a perfect view of Robin. The boy wonder shot him a smile before somersaulting off of the nearby rooftop.

Tim watched on in stunned silence as Robin flipped once, then twice, then three times…

And then he flipped a fourth time and his feet slammed into his attacker’s shoulder and the man absolutely crumpled.

Tim thought he might just do the same. His head spun, and it was only partially because of the blow he had taken to the face.

There was only one person alive that could do a quadruple backflip. The conversation where he had been told this haunted his dreams, he could never forget the promise one unfortunate boy had made the day his parents died.

Dick Grayson rushed over to Tim, his Robin uniform a blur of colors that were horrifically close to the ones he had used at the circus, and checked him over for injuries. “Are you okay? What hurts most?”

Tim could barely swallow the lump in his throat enough to mumble that it was his cheek… which wasn’t true, his wrist currently felt as if the attacker had succeeded in driving his knife into it, but thanks to the timing of it all he knew it was his soulmate who was currently suffering from a banged up wrist.

(Which was his fault, he knew. He wondered if they could feel his guilt, as disoriented as he was. As disoriented as they likely were because of him.)

He sat there pliantly as the older boy examined him, going through the motions. He wondered if he should tell Dick that he knew his secret. He wondered if everything he was doing was an act, just like the trapeze routine and promises he made back when Tim first met him.

The tiny frown gracing Dick’s lips as he peered into his eyes was nothing short of real, though.

And, though it was likely partially – mainly – due to the shock, Tim couldn’t help but smile a little. The concern was aimed at everyone, Robin cared for the people of Gotham, Tim was no different than any of the other little boys that Robin had saved…

But it was still concern. For Tim.

He would take what he could get.

Marinette opened her eyes to the bright white lights of the school infirmary and groaned, considering turning over. Unfortunately, when she did, her aching cheek touched the pillow by her head and pain raced through her like it was still fresh.

She shot to a sitting position. The plastic infirmary bed made a squeaking noise with every slight movement she made as she struggled with her blankets. She had class – a presentation to give – and she didn’t want to fail because she wasn’t turning it in on the right day…

A hand grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her back, forcing her to snap to proper attention. She followed the well-manicured hand up to find Chloe Bourgeois.

Chloe didn’t seem all that intent on looking back at her, her gaze was fixed firmly on Marinette’s pillow like it was the most interesting thing she had ever seen. It wasn’t… it wasn’t even comfortable, interesting was so far out of the question that it may as well have been on another test sheet.

“But my grade on my presentation –.”

“Mme. Bustier looked over your notecards for your presentation and gave you a 100. Sit down until your parents get here. You need rest.”

She wasn’t sure about the ‘needing rest’ thing, she felt no more or less tired than she always did, but her wrist did twinge painfully when she tried to sit up again so she settled back. At least her grades would be okay… and going home sounded great right about then…

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said.

Marinette snapped to attention, blue eyes blowing wide in surprise as she blinked owlishly at Chloe.

“... for saying you lied about having a soulmate,” Chloe clarified. As if that was why Marinette had been so quiet.

“Chloe…” she started, which was brave considering she didn’t really know where she was going to go. The end of her sentence was not in sight, so she ended up abandoning it with a tiny shrug. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t, but she was willing to pretend.

Chloe seemed to catch on to the dryness in her tone, because she rushed to explain herself: “I was just jealous, I mean… having a soulmate seems so cool!” She looked at Marinette’s cheek, where a bruise had to be forming. “Or… it seemed so cool. Knowing you have someone and all. Knowing someone out there will love you one day.”

Marinette toyed with the many bindings wrapped around her wrist to try and keep her from hurting herself. The movement was, expectedly, very painful. But she was a little bitter about getting a surprise beatdown in the middle of class.

“You can have my soulmate,” joked Marinette, offering a tentative smile.

Chloe gave an awkward little laugh. “No thanks.”

“Worth a shot.”

They lapsed into silence and Marinette couldn’t help but wonder why the other wasn’t leaving. Her parents were coming, apparently, and it wasn’t like Marinette was dying. Maybe she was avoiding class?

Chloe looked down at her wrist. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

Marinette considered this silently. Chloe did genuinely seem regretful, but that didn’t mean much at this point. Years of isolation don’t get fixed in a day, and she wasn’t all that interested in an apology from the person that kick started it all.

Marinette closed her eyes, sighing. “What do you want from me, Chloe?”

The girl startled. “Sorry?”

“I’m not mad, I’ve already said I forgive you. What do you get from explaining yourself?”

Chloe didn’t seem to have a response for this. Marinette peeked an eye open to see a stunned expression. She closed the eye again and settled back against the uncomfortable pillow.

The blue plastic chair Chloe had been sitting in scraped against the floor when she got up and her shoes clicked away.

Marinette felt an odd need to ask her to come back. But she didn’t open her mouth. She didn’t need anyone. (Outside of, maybe, her parents.)

She didn’t even want anyone.

She felt strangely empty, but she figured that it was probably her soulmate. Hm. She hadn’t felt much from them for a while outside of the obvious physical injuries. Maybe they had passed out or something? She considered pinching her arm until she got a proper response.

Before she could commit to that, the door to the infirmary flung open and her parents rushed in.

Marinette squeaked as her father swept her up into a bone crushing hug. But then she laughed and hugged back, burying her face in his shoulder. She only laughed harder when her mother started tugging at his shoulder, complaining that her father was ‘hogging’ her. Marinette pulled her good arm out of the hug and made a face.

“Help,” she ‘pleaded’. “He’s killing me.”

Her mother looked at the hand and then ducked under it to join the hug.

Marinette gasped at the ‘betrayal’, but she couldn’t stop smiling regardless.

~~~~~

Next part

#ty to bbgirl3191 on ao3 for giving me the idea for one of these scenes #bound #i feel you #maribat #ladybug #tim drake #red robin #marinette #timari #timinette #timmari #shutterbug #nice scene at the end to make up for being evil later #:)

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thisisgodsland · 2 years

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8 Days Left: How to deal with dumbasses

A few days ago, I had this heated back-and-forth with someone in the comments section. Someone I knew shared this post accusing ABS-CBN artists of hypocrisy for calling out Marcos for tax evasion when their station was put off the air because of it. One Google search would tell you that this simply isn’t true.

When someone else fact-checked the poster, her relative posted the link of the en banc decision for G.R. No. 252119 or the petition that ABS-CBN filed against NTO to bring back their franchise. He captioned it, “Here are the facts, not just your fake news” with a peace sign and red and green hearts beside it.

So, I read the court case. And because I did a lot of case studies back in Grade 11, I recognized immediately that there was no discussion of tax evasion, just failure to renew the franchise on time.

When I brought this up complete with news articles and video evidence of a BIR executive under oath, this man told me three things: 1) I shouldn’t trust valid, reputable, and long-established news outlets, 2) I shouldn’t argue the court decision, and 3) I should “study the law, pass the bar exam, and become a lawyer” before I can have a say on any of this.

This person I was talking to was a lawyer, but he was not able to comprehend that I was not arguing the decision of the court. I was arguing the false implication of the post.

Then, this full-grown adult, brought another full-grown adult with him and proceeded to call me dumb and devalue my integrity as an Atenean.

Rule number one of dealing with dumbasses: Don’t.

I didn’t respond after that. In fact, I muted the conversation. If there’s one thing my presidential bet has taught me it’s that when criticism turns to bashing, it’s better to leave it alone. What bothered me, however, was how easy it was for a grown-up to dismiss me when I’m presenting legitimate facts. I wasn’t being stupid. I had read the court’s decision and presented it clear to his face where he was wrong. Yet he insisted he was right because he had passed the bar and become a lawyer.

Of course, he passed the bar in the year when almost everyone did.

But that’s beside the point. Grown-ups tell us a lot about respect, but I find that as I grew older I only gave respect to the people who gave it back to me. This election season is like a circus of disrespect that, as far as I have witnessed, come mainly from adults towards their children. The countless stories I have heard of parents grilling their children about their bet, uncles sending vile Facebook posts to their nieces or nephews, and distant relatives poking fun at teenagers for thinking they know what’s right for the country.

And while these children give valid input, strong rebuttals, and real evidence, these people never have a good enough excuse as to why they are betting on their candidate. Once, a friend told me that their parents were voting for a presidentiable because that was what their grandparents would have wanted.

You shouldn’t be thinking of your grandparents. You should be thinking of your children.

Rule number two of dealing with dumbasses: Don’t be a dumbass.

When I tell people I’m fighting for my future, I mean it. I’m grasping at straws here, thinking of ways to be more active, to be more vocal, to be more participative. And the ones who’ll devalue all this are a bunch of adults who think they’re doing more than me when they’re not?

This isn’t a dig at ordinary civilians. The Philippines is still primarily built on survival, so not everyone can go around doing extensive research. I blame the old, decrepit, and sluggish people working in high positions in the government right now for ruining my future. These people have manipulated and toyed with the system so much that the people of this country don’t have even the basic privilege of receiving factual and accurate news. Political campaigns are supposed to be built on promises, not flat-out lies. The government is supposed to provide for the people, not steal from them.

Not just stealing from you. Stealing from your children. Then, stealing from your children’s children.

Final rule for dealing with dumbasses: Don’t vote for them.

I’m lucky to have had a lot of adults in my life show the same respect towards me that I show them. Not a lot of people get that. So if their parents, relatives, and teachers aren’t listening, they need to be represented by someone who will.

I’m voting for the Kabataan partylist this May 9. For obvious reasons. They have authored bills that promote students’ rights, penalize abusive educational practices, commemorate a day for the youth, define electronic violence against women and children, and establish youth and women museums. Not only that, they have also written bills that increased salaries for teachers, lowered the retirement age, sought agrarian reform, and strengthened the right to information.

We’re thinking about you, too. It’s time you start thinking about us.

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sufandomgirl · 8 months

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Hell's Belles Fanfiction Part 1

[A/N: This was actually my first Hell's Belles fanfiction, long before Gabriella was even thought of. Speaking of, she will appear, but this isn't a prompt story. I simply put the prompt in because it reminded me that I wanted to expand my fanfiction. Anyways, enjoy!]

{The brunette woman walked up to Penny's desk, fully expecting to be course corrected.}

Penny: Welcome to the Hellp Desk--I am...really mixed in my feelings from the impromptu send-off party that was recently hosted in honor of my friend and co-worker, Ruggy's reincarnation. We're all very proud of her for her growth and earning her chance at it. We all miss her, though. How may I help you?

Woman: Oh, congratulations to your friend. I didn't understand it, but it sounded like a big deal and a good thing. Anyway, hi, I'm here to address a mistake. The people at the Front Death-k were trying to send me to Paradise, but my husband when I was alive told me that I needed to come down here and be punished for my actions until he could forgive me for my insubordination from Heaven.

Penny: (looks down at her desk) Well, that explains why I don't have a file for you. Um, tell me, what's your name? We use only first names down here.

Woman: Oh, my name is Desiree.

Penny: Okay, and um, out of curiosity, were you married to Christian man who told you that you needed to obey and serve him, no matter what you thought or felt and/or were you perhaps were part of a church that taught you that from a young age?

Desiree: Yes, I was in both. I had an eight-year-old son with my husband, John and remember sending him away with his grandparents in the park right before I felt a burning pain in the back of my head and woke up at the Front Death-k. You see, I'd just found out about John's affair, and I always felt that he was threatening our son. I was trying to leave him, without the support of the church or our community, but with my parents' because even though I knew that I deserved my husband's violence, our son didn't.

Penny: (eyes wide; looks at Judy)

Judy: (looks at Desiree; sighs) Oh, sweet pea.

Lily: So, back up, what made you feel as though you deserved the abuse?

Desiree: Well, simple, I disobeyed the word of God that was taught by my church, I acted independently of my husband, even though I knew it was wrong, and I tried to leave him.

Lily: What church did you attend, by chance?

Desiree: Oh, it was the Designated Gospel Church. DGC, for short.

Sharkie: Hey, Mom, isn't that that new cult that's parading as a religious denomination to commit tax evasion?

Lily: (typing on computer) It is. Desiree, honey, I'm so sorry you had to get sucked into that, but that cult is getting a lot of publicity after your murder. Check this out. (reads) 'Pastor of cult calls for institution to release man arrested for abusing and publicly killing his wife on the grounds of religious practices'. Pastor Ulysses, to be exact.

Judy: Isn't Greg already preparing for his arrival down on Level 9, Penny?

Penny: Yeah, he's super excited. He gets a certain kick out of punishing religious leaders who abuse their power. (turns back to Desiree) It's really not your fault. We deal with corrupt church teachings and clergy all the time. Their victims like yourself do usually come down for therapy on Level One or Two, but usually come out ready for their Paradise. If not, they sign up for reincarnation to try again at life.

Desiree: That can't be right! Pastor Ulysses told me that God would scowl upon me for helping a Muslim and Pagan avoid shaming from a fellow church member and accepting my lesbian sister and her trans son. My parents left the church because they wouldn't support them. I was already married to John and continued speaking to them despite his wishes. This caused him to strike me for my disobedience. It only got worse when I kept in contact with an ex-communicated friend who disagreed with Pastor Ulysses sermons of obeying men and such.

{The Hellp Desk stare at her, wide-eyed.}

Lily: So, amidst this...enlightening conversation, do you notice any...recurring themes about...Ulysses and John that may or may not contribute to your view of your actions? Clearly, you didn't agree with them, which was fine, but then when you were judged and sent to Paradise, did you ever question that maybe they could've just been trying to manipulate you? I mean, why send your son to your parents unless you knew what they were doing was wrong?

#lily #hellp desk #penny #judy #sharkie #bel #ruggy

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 years

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A Sister's Love

Pairing: Platonic Damian Wayne x Al Ghul!Reader

Warnings: Injuries and blood. Drugging, Trafficking and sexual assult but these are not the main themes.

Word Count: 4.9K

Summary: You realize you have a lot to learn about yourself outside of your little brother, Damian's, shadow.

A/N: Was originally gonna make this a Dick Grayson x Reader but realized it would be weird cuz of mixed families and stuff. And I don't wanna be pushing the boundaries of incest.

Growing up in the League of Assassins meant a lot of things for you. It meant that you were raised to be powerful and commanding. It meant you knew how to kill a man in 47 different ways and counting. It meant that you were raised to rightfully think that you were the best.

Although for every good thing there was always cons. Your schedule was rigid and your peers were unfeeling. Your mother most of all, but that didn't stop you from trying to win her affection. It was the reason why when your little brother was born you felt threatened.

That was until you met little Damian. Your mother had handed him to you with a smile of pride that she never showed you and you hated him. But then you saw his precious little face, a nose tinier than a button and adorable lips that were curled into a pout. He was so beautiful.

Since then, you put any differences you might have had with your mother behind you. According to Ra’s it would have been a mistake to show Damian such tenderness, to teach him about loyalty to your heart, instead of without it.

But Talia couldn't ignore the tug she felt in her heart seeing you and Damian together. You still worked hard, harder than she had ever seen before, now determined not to show that you were weak and have them take your brother from you. Damian followed your example, training to her approval, however taxing it was for him.

And more importantly, Damian loved you. You were the first woman he had ever loved and he was smart enough to know that would never be a mistake. You were his shelter in a storm, his fire in the cold. You were the best sibling that anyone could ever even dream of.

But then you had to part. At age 10, Damian went to live with his father, Bruce Wayne. You had never met the man when he was with your mother and you assumed you wouldn't need to, he wasn't your father.

Both you and Damian didn't want to leave each other. You'd miss your little brother and you'd miss the feeling in your chest whenever you'd look at him. Damian would miss home; he would miss your presence and he would miss the familiarity. But he couldn't stay.

That's something you learnt at the League. Damian couldn't stay, with you. He was meant for bigger things than you.

Another thing you learnt was that you didn't have to stay either. You wanted to see the world, see what everything else had in store for you. And your mother, bless her, gave you her blessing.

Of all the things the league taught you, there were things they missed out on. And a part of you was thankful for that. Because you enjoyed the feeling of wide-eyed wonderment when you stepped into a train station for the first time ever.

You had never tasted a chocolate muffin before, you realized as you stuffed your face at a local bakery. Coffee and chocolate muffins went well together. You liked sweet things better than spicy things, you noted when you didn't enjoy the tteokbokki you bought at a Korean food stall.

People were kind, not foolish. They smiled at you when you came in and genuinely asked you where you were headed. Like the woman you met on the tram who was heading to Washington DC. Even through the short ride, the two of you had bonded and she had left you with her phone number and a promise that if you were ever in DC, you would ring her up. Diana was trusting, too trusting. You could have assumed it was because she was stupid, but you wanted to believe it was because she was smarter than even you.

Some people were kind like her but of course, some were impolite and pig-headed. You of course didn't waste any time putting them in their place. Maybe that was why you shouldn't have any faith in humanity.

But isn't humanity just the thing you should be putting faith in?

It was fun at first, discovering new things, seeing how people really lived outside of books and things taught to you back at the League. You knew everything, you weren't naive enough to be oblivious but reading about something was miles apart from actually experiencing it.

After a while however, you got lonely, it was a huge world with people constantly moving and you've come to realize that unless you're with somebody, you can't really move from your place. Instead, you'd be stuck watching all of them. So, you sought after your brother.

It was easy enough to track Bruce Wayne, he lived in a house large enough to be seen from outer space. Getting to Gotham took longer than you expected. Time passed so easily when you didn't have a purpose but now that you had somewhere you needed to be, the train couldn't go any slower.

Gotham City was less gloomy than people made it out to be. The sun was shining and the city was bustling. In some ways, it seemed a little homey. Maybe that was because you didn't have to worry about someone hurting you. If anything, they should pray that they don't choose you as their next victim.

Of course, you could've gone to Wayne Manor and introduced yourself civilly but you wanted to see Damian more than anything and didn't want to delay it any longer. And more than that, you wanted to see Damian is his cute little school uniform.

That's what led you to wait outside of the well-reputed Gotham University, waiting patiently for the bell to ring and students to file out of it. You already knew that they wouldn't come out singing like in the movies but a very small fraction of you still hoped.

Your heartrate increased with every passing minute, excited to meet your brother after nearly a year of being apart. Eventually, the bell did ring and students began trickling out of the doors, looking like bumble bees, excitedly zipping around and talking to their friends.

'Would this have been my life if I was never born in the League?' You wondered, looking at a girl who was animatedly chatting with her friend, arms interlocked as they moved towards the parking lot where their parents were waiting.

When you finally saw Damian, you suddenly felt out of place. Like an outsider watching someone else's brother when you saw his eyes lock onto someone in the commons. Even though you weren't on the school campus, you could still recognize who it was.

Richard Grayson, oldest son of Bruce Wayne, waiting to pick up your little brother on a motor cycle.

And for the first time in your life, you experienced insecurity, watching them greet each other like brothers. The feeling was sour and you wondered if it was a mistake coming here, thinking that you still had a place here.

It was true, people didn't move from their place unless they had someone to go with. You hadn't felt fulfilled like that since your brother stopped being at your side. He was everything you knew. It was just your mistake for thinking that in the year apart your brother wouldn't have found anyone either.

***

"Drake, pull up the security cameras from today at my school parking lot." Damian ordered, stepping into the Batcave.

"No 'Hello', no 'How you doing?', it's always 'Tim, do this' 'Drake, do that'," Tim commented sarcastically but still pulled up whatever he needed, "And then as soon as I give you what I want, you're going to forget me again. And not even visit the kids."

Dick spared him a laugh at his dramatic scene, ruffling his hair as greeting and then turned his attention to the screen. The footage was played at double the speed until Damian's eyes locked onto just what he wanted to find.

It was just for a second, when Dick's motorcycle had zoomed past but that was all he needed. Damian had seen your face and it wasn't any mistake, he'd know you even if he was blind. Even though he was so sure it had been you, he still couldn't hide the way his body froze, eyes wide when he saw your face.

It was the same face he'd see every night before he went to bed and the very first person he wanted to see every time he woke up. Your image was what came into his mind when he thought of being nurtured, when he thought of being safe.

There was a time when he was younger, too young, there was a thunder storm. He doesn't remember much from the night, just hiding his face against your chest and you wrapping a blanket around him. His mother trained him even harder the next day, until he almost dropped but he'd never forget curling up to your warmth. Not even now, when he knew that thunder storms were the least of his fears.

It was as simple as that. With his father and brothers, he didn't have to worry about looking weak, he didn't think of love as a weakness, rather he considered it as the fuel behind strength. Yes, his father taught him well. And now he would show you just how much he's grown. So, you can be proud of him.

"We need to find her."

"Why? Who is she?"

"My sister."

***

Of all the things you wanted to experience, visiting a bar was one of them. Was the air really enough to intoxicate you? Were you really going to lose all sense when you stepped into it? Would be able to drink your troubles away?

You were sorely disappointed. The alcohol didn't taste good, it burned when you swallowed it and made your tongue feel fuzzy. The music was so loud that your brain began throbbing against your skull to the beat of the song.

Men were picking fights and women were having fun but even then, you couldn't find it in yourself to get up and actually have fun. I mean, how were you supposed to? How was cosying up against a drunk man supposed to make you feel better? How was getting lost in throngs of sweaty people who didn't know what personal space was meant to improve your mood?

If anything, it just reminded you of just how pathetic your life was.

You were realizing you had no purpose. Damian was all you had known for years now, knowing only to protect him with your life and love him with your heart. Who were you without him? What did you like? What made you happy outside from your duty at the league?

A man knocking into you brought you out of your thoughts, which had been happening all night. Except this man stopped in front of you and gave you a smile that turned your stomach upside down.

"Sorry about that pretty lady, let me buy you a drink to make up for it." He spoke with a voice that was trying to be smooth but instead sounded like metal scraping over each other.

"No, thank you." You said sharply, not yet done with your Manhattan anyway. You were barely enjoying your time here as it was and you were sure another drink wouldn't change your mind.

"Not a fan?"

You shook your head at him, choosing to humour the man.

"Then let me buy you another one, if you don't like it then you have nothing to lose."

You pretended to giggle at him and he swelled with pride. Did he think he was winning?

"One Boulevardier." He told the bartender who nodded and began preparing the drink. Until it was ready, you indulged the man in front of you who reeked of cigarettes and alcohol.

He placed the drink in front of you and if you hadn't known that it would burn going down and turn you into a shell of yourself, you might have been curious to what it tasted like.

"You see that dude over there?" He nodded to a man standing in the other corner of the bar and you turned to look at him. Another man, covered in tattoos who didn't look any different than the one standing behind you.

"He's my pal, owns the bar. Ask him and he'll hook you up with free drinks tonight. For a price, of course."

You turned back around to face the man and out of the corner of your eye saw something dissolve into your drink. It was only for a second but you saw the last remaining grains turn invisible and you definitely noticed the way the once steady drink was now swirling into a vortex in the middle.

"Drink up, princess."

You smirked. Tonight, might be fun after all.

***

This was boring.

You had been pretending to be unconscious for about 40 minutes while these men drove you to some undisclosed location. Their conversations were unbelievably dry and it's not like you had anyone else to talk to. Everyone else who might have been even mildly interesting were knocked unconscious.

Eventually they pulled up to some sort of holding facility and if your assumptions were correct then this would be a midpoint before they sold all the girls here to some sort of pimp.

Once they lugged you off the truck and threw you into a room with so many other people, you could hear their breathing did you open your eyes. It seemed like this was some sort of abandoned butcher or meat factory, judging by the ominous hooks hanging above your head and the metal walls. The door had been bolted shut, the only way to look through it was a small glass window.

Only after you finished taking in your surroundings did you even look at the other women who had been trapped in the room along with you. Your stomach turned.

There were so many unsuspecting faces who looked like they didn't sign up for this. Half of them looked under the influence of something, sweating profusely even in their sleep, faces scrunched up in pain. The other looked like they were forcibly taken, bruises covering their skin, hair and clothes in disarray and more than half of them had either a black eye or a swollen lip.

Maybe it was their fault for not being trained, that's what someone at the league would've said. But isn't it their captors’ fault for misusing their training, their strength, for something as vile as this?

You decided to wait, you couldn't assume that this small group of girls was the only one in the confines of the building. How many more were here?

You weren't feeling overwhelmed, not at all, not with the weapons that were littering you. A kunai hidden is either of your boots, throwing stars in your pockets hidden underneath your vest and a war fan in your pocket. You could handle these clowns without even looking up.

But it wasn't your life you were concerned about. It was the lives of these underaged, vulnerable girls who had fallen prey to these monsters.

While you were waiting a couple of the girls started to wake up. Some were still heavily drugged, still groggy when their eyes fluttered open and unable to focus onto anything. Others shot up straight as an arrow and began crying, screaming, begging for them to let them out.

They were ignored, by both their captors and you. Why try and reassure then when you weren't sure what was going to happen. More importantly, why throw off the monsters lurking outside the door that there was one woman who hadn't been phased.

Instead, you just stared blankly, trying to get comfortable and hear anything through the walls. Eventually, you heard the sound of footsteps coming towards the room. You covered the lower half of your face with a scarf, making sure that anyone who left here alive today, wouldn't be able to remember your face. Whether it be as a saviour or their punisher.

The girls whimpered and curled into one another, crying quietly and you felt sympathy. There was no way they'd be able to move forward from this without having fear stab at their heart with every step they took. You could only hope they had something in their life that would make them feel safe.

For tonight, you'd be that for them.

A few men opened the door with a cruel smile, stepping inside for a second before bolting it shut. They flaunted guns and other weapons to the girls, finding pleasure where there should be compassion and worry. You were disgusted watching their smirks twist maniacally when the girls cried harder seeing them brandish their weapons.

One of the men stepped forward and grabbed the girl closest to him who begged and cried to spare her. His disgusting hand might as well be made of acid because you almost felt the sick burn when it snaked between her legs and copped a feel while she sobbed and screamed, trying to fight him off.

You grabbed one of your weapons and returned their sick grins with one of your own.

It was going to be hard to cop a feel when he can't feel anything.

You were going to break each and every bone in his hand to ensure that.

***

"Can I borrow your phone please?" You asked the bloody and broken man by your feet. He glared at you and spat blood on your boots, unable to do anything else. You sighed and faked a pout.

"Is it here?" You wondered, holding the dirtied boot over his ribs and his eyes widened, catching drift of what you were about to do. You rammed your foot into his broken ribs, courtesy of yourself, and he screamed bloody murder. Music to your ears.

"Apparently not. Want me to check your pants?" You asked, raising a brow and he frantically shook his head, using whatever strength left to pull out his phone from his pocket and you smiled, thanking him quietly.

"Now, let's hope that one blow is enough to put you out of my misery." You sang, punching him right in the face and he passed out. Lightweight.

You took a look around the place, seeing bodies littered over the place like confetti. Blood was scattered on the ground and you're sure if people looked hard enough, they'd find someone's teeth. You on the other hand looked fine.

You sat on the floor, crossing your legs comfortably, tired after the fight and dialled a number onto the phone.

"Hello, police?"

"Yes, how can we help you?"

"Well, there's a sex trafficking scam going on at my location. Quite shoddy but they have a number of women trapped here and it would be nice if you could send backup to have them escorted home safely."

"A sex trafficking scam?"

"Well, it could be just a regular trafficking scam but I'm not too sure."

"All right, I'll have someone check it out."

"Good, and I realize you might get a lot of calls like this but please don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. Tell your people to send a couple of ambulances as well, you'll need them."

"Of course."

You could only hope the person on the other end of the line would eat their words when it was on the front of the newspaper. For now, your work was done.

In the meantime, how were you going to get anywhere from here? Where even were you? Was there anyone even conscious here who could give you directions? Or would you have to call the police again to find out where to go?

Not that you'd wait long enough for them actually arrive here. You'd return to the bar way before that for another drink. Maybe now you'd actually be able to enjoy one.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard a creak coming from the other end of the warehouse. It echoed through the halls and you leapt to your feet, soundless moving to hide in the shadows and pulling out a kunai.

The footsteps that followed it were light and airy, barely even touching the ground. They were trained, whoever they were. You kept your ears open in order to hear something.

"Whoever was here was trained." You heard someone comment.

"Are you really that stupid, Nightwing? It's obvious that my sister was the one who took out this ring and reported it." Came the snappy reply back and your breath caught in your chest. Make no mistake, that was your brother's voice.

"We must find her."

He was actually looking for you? He knows you're here? You're not entirely surprised, you haven't exactly been careful or stealthy when it came to concealing your face around Gotham. A mistake on your part but you couldn't have been more relieved.

You still remained quiet, not wanting to disturb the flow, not wanting to interrupt. You had the mind of a soldier but when there was no one to follow you seemed more like a sheep. It made you feel slight shame, that you were unable to stick up for yourself despite being so many things.

Maybe, the league wasn't the best thing for you.

Immediately you scraped the thought from your mind, berating yourself for even thinking that. The league had given you everything, everything you were today was because of them. You were strong and calculating, the leagues proud soldier.

You were proud of your roots, thankful that you grew up to be the person you were. They had given you everything, and your brother was just one of the gifts that you had been blessed with in your life.

"Damian." You spoke softly, stepping out of the shadows. His head snapped towards you, eyes widening when he took in your form. It really was you. His sister.

Damian wasted no time in bounding towards you and you knelt down to meet his eye level, catching him with open arms. A part of your heart sang when you realized he was still small enough to fit in your arms. He still held you close. He still loved you.

"I've missed you, Ya Amar." You spoke softly, cradling his head that was buried in the junction of your neck.

"I as well, Okhti."

***

Damian was ecstatic that you were in Gotham. Of course, it didn't look like it to anyone but everyone who knew him well could tell that he was happy that his sister was home with him. He didn't wait for even two seconds when you got to the Batcave (much to Bruce's surprise) to show you all his pets.

The next few days would be considered the best of his life.

Damian wanted to be as close to you as possible, sitting near you during meals, training with you, talking with you, even going as far to sneak into your temporary bedroom at night for cuddles. He certainly got more comfortable showing affection since the last time you were around.

He showed you his hobbies like painting and sketching and you were impressed. He had the skills to be doing something like this? Damian had picked up many new talents and many new stories since you last saw him and he was eager to share them all with you.

The next few days would be considered the worst of your life.

You had found Damian now, so why didn't you still feel fulfilled? Why did you feel like something was missing? Like this wasn't meant for you? Why weren't you satisfied?

Why did you feel envious that Damian got to experience so many things? Why did you feel resentment against him when you realized you never got the same things he has?

Your life felt like it amounted to nothing.

You loved your brother but so far you had just been living for him. And now that you realized there were parts of the world that you wanted to see. There were thoughts in your mind that were of your own and desires that you didn't have to explain to anyone. As long as it made sense to yourself.

And you realize one thing with an aching heart.

You couldn't stay here in Gotham.

"Does Damian know?" Bruce asked you one day when you had asked him a favour. Bruce so far had been a little cold and unfeeling ever since you had met him in the Batcave uninvited. His feelings towards you got more negative when you gave an offhanded comment about how you thought he was taller. But he was the only one you could ask for a favour. He was the father to your beloved brother and you could only hope he would offer you the same consideration.

You had asked him for a flight to Washington, to see if Diana really meant what she said. To take a leap of faith for the first time in your life.

You shook your head no, "Not yet. I'm hoping he will take the news well. It's not like I'm leaving forever. I just—I need to—" You trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Bruce nodded, "I understand. Just tell him before you go. I don't think I've ever seen him this happy before."

"It makes me feel worse." You admitted, feeling a little guilty. How could you not feel happy at your brother’s happiness?

"You need some time to figure out that your world is yours. No one else should determine how you feel about yourself."

"You are very wise," You said softly, "Thank you."

***

"I love you dearly, Damian." You tried to coerce him from his room where he had locked himself in only 5 minutes ago. No doubt he was sulking since he found out that you would be leaving for DC in two days’ time.

"If you did, you wouldn't be leaving!" His voice was muffled, as if his face was buried in his pillow or even Titus. You had been trying to coax him into open the door for 20 minutes now and had multiple offers from Grayson, which you turned down.

"Oh, for the love of—Damian Wayne, you open this door right now!" It was silent for a moment before you heard the lock click open and took that as the indication from him to step into his room.

It was large and from the moment you stepped in, it was easy to tell the space was his. There were swords mounted on the wall, paintings on the wall adjacent to it. His desk was tidy and in the corner of his room, there were multiple easels and sketch pads.

Damian was sulking on his bed and you sighed, feeling guilty. You sat beside him and ran your fingers through his hair. Even though he was upset with you, he still sank into your touch, feeling comforted by mere contact.

"It's not forever, Damian. Wherever I'm going, I'm going to come back. I just need some time to myself." You tried to explain.

"But why!"

"The league taught me well, Damian. But it taught me to live like a soldier, but not as a person. There are so many things that I don't know about myself. What do I like? What do I want to do with my life? And I need to figure it out for myself."

"Why can't you do that here?"

You gave him a pained look and realization dawned on him, "Because of me."

"Damian, in the time we spent apart you learnt so many things about yourself. That you like animals, that you like art. There are so many blanks in my life and I need the distance to figure it out. I need to understand myself." You explained wistfully.

It was true, there were so many blanks in your life. You didn't even know what food you liked better, what hobbies you enjoyed. You wanted to experience new things, without the influence of Damian, without relying on him. And more importantly, you were scared you would put Damian above yourself time and time again.

It was all you knew. Damian was worth more than your life, worth more than your heart. But if that was true, you wanted to know at least what your heart was worth to you. If you didn't hold any value to yourself, it would be foolish to think you would to anyone else.

You needed the distance. You needed something new. You wanted to dive into uncharted waters and figure out the magic for yourself, without anyone to help you.

"It's not forever," You reminded gently, "I'm going to come back, I can promise you that."

Damian began leaning until his head was settled in your lap and you chuckled, gently scratching his scalp and he nestled into your belly. Hard to believe this was the same boy who left only a year ago. You wondered if you would change as much as he did or if you were stuck in your ways now.

"Okay," He said, voice muffled and you smiled, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thank you for your blessing, Ya Amar. It means the world to me. I love you; you know that."

"I do." He said, now wrapping his arms around your waist, "I love you too."

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

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imaginative-reblogs · 4 years

Text

Uncle Riku/Parental Sokai Headcanons

Riku figures out that Kairi’s expecting first.

... and wastes no time in buying ALL the baby things.

Why yes, he gets the baby Mickey Mouse baby onesies.

If he’s ever babysitting, that baby’s feet NEVER touch the ground because he’s ALWAYS holding the baby.

Also, he gets a little anxious because a) CHILD OF MY BFFS and b) Can I be trusted with something so innocent and pure?

Not to mention he is fiercely defensive of this child’s innocence, because every kid deserves a lasting, good childhood.

Thanks to Dreameater powers, this kid has a BILLION cuddley friends to nap with every day.

Papa Sora is THE most doting daddy.

There is no need for a jungle gym. Sora IS the jungle gym.

He showers his baby with kisses at every chance he gets.

Donald and Goofy, of course, love the baby, but Donald is just low-key freaking out the whole time.

Bedtime stories consist of ALL of his adventures. Scary stuff is downplayed for now.

And you KNOW if Sora and Kairi have a little girl, he WILL play teatime with her and let her put his hair into pigtails.

And all of his Disney pals send them baby gifts from their worlds.

Between the two of them, Kairi is the disciplinarian.

But she is never impatient; she’ll listen to the longest, rambling story about why the bed wasn’t made.

She sings lullabies to the child every night. Sora likes to stand outside the doorway to listen.

Once the child is old enough, Kairi helps her/him make their own thalassa shell charm, explaining that this magical charm is what helped Mama and Papa feel together when they were apart.

Kairi often makes handmade baby clothes.

If the child is curious about what Mama and Papa are doing, Kairi invites her/him to join and explains what’s happening. This is how she taught taxes filing and cooking.

She just wants to make sure that her child knows she/he can be included.

#my brain was going nuts #so y’all get to partake #sokai #headcanon #kingdom hearts #sora #riku #kairi #fan baby

116 notes · View notes

gayoperatorgunclub · 4 years

Note

For the OTP ask thing 26, 34, 39, 47 and 81. For your fav ship, it's up to you which one you choose!

ohohoho! i’m actually gonna pick more than one, so here’s doc/lion, doc/monty, twitch/cav, blitz/rook, and blitz/monty!

Doc/Lion-

26 (How good would your OTP be at parenting?) - i think they’d be pretty good at it, seeing as olivier actually has a son, and gustave gives off Dad Energy

34 (Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?) - olivier definitely makes fun of gustave for little things like handholding or wanting to cuddle, saying stuff like “oooh you like me” and gustave just stares at him and is like. we are married.

39 (Who sleeps in the other’s lap?) - GUSTAVE!!!!!!!!! he is a cuddly man and is Certified To Be Huggable. he’s shaped like a friend. love is stored in the combat medic. olivier will get an email from him thats just like: come to the medbay i need your help with something. and so he goes and gustave just motions for him to come in, gets out of his chair, grabs olivier’s wrist and tugs him closer, pushes him into the office chair, and climbs up onto his lap, his back to olivier’s chest, and grabs olivier’s arms and wraps them around his torso, and goes back to work for a few minutes, but he ends up falling asleep once olivier starts rubbing his tummy or sumn. whatever it’s very cute

47 (Who proposes?) - i’ll probably use this setup for a lot of different ships, but there’s a post that talks about how a girl proposed to her girlfriend 3 times, 2 without a ring (1 because she panicked, another because she thought her gf was gonna propose and wanted to beat her to it) and lemme just say that olivier proposed to gustave at least 10 times, from handing him a ring pop while drunk and carrying him home to plan the wedding, to talking with lera about their upcoming date and she mentions how it’d be the perfect opportunity for someone to propose and so olivier panics and rushes to the medbay and is just like “gustave i love you so much you’re the man i want to spend the rest of my life with will you marry me” and gustave, who has had a stressful day, walks over to him, wraps his arms around him and presses his face into his chest, and starts crying. worry not though, when olivier finally actually proposes it’s remarkably well planned out, very romantic (perhaps in a park or on a beach or some other picturesque location, since i hc doc to be something of a nature lover so maybe olivier takes him for a picnic out in a meadow or something. it’s very aesthetic. gustave cries. and says yes.

81 (Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?) - olivier woke up in a hospital bed with gustave sitting next to him, holding his hand, and olivier looks over at him and says “je t’aime beaucoup” before passing out again. gustave will only end an argument with “because i love you” if they’re arguing about something stupid like olivier wanting to eat nothing but croissants for a week and gustave has to be like “no you cant do that because i want you to stay alive and healthy because i love you” since i read the prompt and thought “hm. manipulative.” this almost always results in olivier either calling him a “trick ass bitch” or leaving a voicemail on his office phone that’s just this

Doc/Monty-

26 (How good would your OTP be at parenting?) - they’re both great at being the dad friends to other operators, but i feel like they’d think they were too old to have kids of their own, as much as they would adore it. they’re everyone’s first choice for babysitters though, and if any other operators have kids, they're referred to as uncle gustave and uncle gilles or something cute

34 (Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?) - i think neither, but gustave would probably see gilles holding flowers obviously meant for him and be like “you are a lovesick fool” and gilles is like “sir we have been married since it was legal???”

39 (Who sleeps in the other’s lap?) - GUSTAVE!!!!!!!! again, he’s a cuddly man and gilles is an absolute Unit, so they’re both more than happy to curl up around each other and sleep in eachother’s arms

47 (Who proposes?) - gilles. it is, quite literally, the perfect proposal. (gustave is blissfully unaware of the fact that it’s almost happened many times before, mainly whenever gilles enters their bedroom after returning from a mission to see gustave wearing one of gilles’ hoodies, curled up in a pile of pillows in bed, and has to restrain himself from waking him up to ask if he’ll marry him.

81 (Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?) - gustave was being carried out of his office by gilles after deciding that fine, he can finish the paperwork tomorrow, and he sleepily mumbled “je t’aime, gilles” before going limp in gilles’ arms, almost giving him a heart attack. luckily, gustave was still breathing. gilles definitely uses it as a last-ditch attempt to get gustave to go to bed, like “PLEASE come to bed, gustave” “why should i? you know i’ll come to bed once i’m done with these files” “because i love you, you hypocritical fool!” then manhandles him to bed

Twitch/Cav-

26 (How good would your OTP be at parenting?) - NO! they are either mischievous older sisters, cool cousins you see once a year, or wine/vodka aunts. no matter what, they will bastardize your children. taina taught maxim’s niece how to make a molotov “just in case the bourgeoisie tries anything” while emmanuelle is off to the side like “USE A DRONE TO BE ABLE TO LAUNCH IT FARTHER FOR MAXIMUM DAMAGE”

34 (Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?) - taina will be like “why are you staring at me? do i have something on my clothes?” and emmanuelle is like “no you’re perfect it’s just that i love you and want to see you” -OR-

emmanuelle: haha you like spending time with me

taina, in emmanuelle’s lap while they watch animal planet: no.

39 (Who sleeps in the other’s lap?) - it depends! usually it’s emmanuelle, but sometimes taina will enter a room and say “you look cold. i suppose i could help” and just. wraps herself around emmanuelle and falls asleep. everyone else is too scared to say anything, especially after emmanuelle almost stabbed james in the neck when he tried to draw on taina’s face

47 (Who proposes?) - emmanuelle: she panics and throws the box at taina and runs, while julien sprints after her yelling “TELL HER YOU LOVE HER AND WANT TO MARRY HER WE ALL KNOW SHE’LL SAY YES”

taina: they are in a diner after a mission. halfway through their meal, taina gets up and takes a knee in front of emmanuelle, taking the box out of a secret pocket in her pants. julien has to tell emmanuelle, who is nearly asleep in her pancakes, to look a bit to the left. she does, and taina’s like “i love you. we’ve already sworn that we’ll be together forever, but i think the tax benefits are too good to ignore. take your time with your response. thanks” and power-walks away. vicente meets her outside and just starts laughing while she punches him while saying stuff like “i talked about TAX BENEFITS! TAX BENEFITS?????”

81 (Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?) - emmanuelle for both. it’s not that taina doesn’t love her, it’s just that she shows her affection through physical gestures. however, whenever taina actually says “i love you” emmanuelle just melts

Blitz/Rook-

26 (How good would your OTP be at parenting?) - TERRIBLE IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE. they are both Children themselves, so putting an actual child in their care is stupid. the one time they were entrusted with caring for a child, it involved face paint, an easy bake oven, a staggering amount of chocolate, and the child’s parents finding the three of them passed out on the couch while minecraft let’s plays played on the rec room tv

34 (Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?) - julien will find little love notes around elias’ room and tease him about them, and elias is just like “aren’t you the one who came up with a ridiculously elaborate plan for us to go on a date without it actually being a date instead of just asking me out??”

39 (Who sleeps in the other’s lap?) - both. depends on who is more sleepy at any given time. it’s usually julien tho

47 (Who proposes?) - elias: very romantic, heartfelt, they’re both crying while dominic and olivier threaten anyone who even glance at them sideways

julien: it’s a ring pop (but a limited edition one he’s been saving for a special occasion), they’re at a rainbow holiday party, and dominic is playing wonderwall

81 (Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?) - elias, before they were even together. they were at another holiday party and he was feeling sentimental, so seamus convinced him to go talk to julien and the first thing he says once he’s stumbled over to the couch is “you. you are an angel. i love you.” except he said it in german so now julien thinks he’s done something wrong, which leads to a 6 month period during which they’re both pining fools who think they’ve done something to upset the other, while seamus is in a perpetual state of looking into the camera like he’s on the office. neither. they are both enablers for the other’s stupid ideas (example: julien trying to give himself the ability to breathe fire by swallowing many on-fire marshmallows, and elias trying to shield-surf down a mountain in the french alps breath of the wild-style

Blitz/Monty-

26 (How good would your OTP be at parenting?) - gilles? the perfect father. elias? he’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit. he has no FUCKING clue what children enjoy or what’s appropriate for a specific age group, so he usually enlists the help of several other operators (none of whom are any good with kids) and together they attempt to care for a child. think lunchables, mcdonald’s, and ice cream as every meal and staying up until ungodly hours. gilles is off to the side, watching amusedly and making sure nobody is ever in any serious danger. elias may be clueless, but he’s not completely incompetent, and the kid has a great time, always pestering their parents about when they can visit uncle elias again

34 (Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?) - neither, really. they’re both pretty lovey (is that the right word? idk they just really enjoy being together and find any quirks or evidence of crushes extremely endearing)

39 (Who sleeps in the other’s lap?) - ELIAS!!!! gilles would CRUSH this poor little man!!!! of course, this doesn’t stop elias from summoning super-strength to carry gilles to bed and hold him on his chest the way gilles does for him whenever gilles returns from a particularly long or grueling mission

47 (Who proposes?) - elias: he gets nervous and starts to tear up multiple times throughout the proposal, before he even gets on his knee, prompting gilles to worry that he’s sick, or being sent back home, or that he’s going to break up with him. luckily, elias manages to pull himself together and finally pop the question, and the way gilles immediately tackles him, muttering things in french while peppering his face with kisses is answer enough

gilles: it is the Perfect Proposal, and elias leaps into his arms while frantically saying yes and kissing him all over. dominic yells at them to get a room, but with a sincerity that lets elias know he’s truly happy for them

81 (Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?) - gilles. they were cuddling on a lazy sunday and during a lull in their conversation, he quietly whispers it into elias’ ear. coincidentally, that is also the day gilles learns elias’ ears are especially sensitive, and having someone whisper into them is one of elias’ biggest turn-ons. honestly? neither. but gilles would probably use it when elias announces he’s going on a shield-surfing trip with julien and has to be “tricked” into staying non-alpine land

#ask #anonymous #r6s doc #r6s lion #r6s montagne #r6s twitch #r6s cav #r6s blitz #r6s rook #doc/lion #doc/montagne #caveira/twitch #blitz/rook #blitz/montagne

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arrantsnowdrop · 4 years

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A Dangerous Game - Chapter 2 (Theseus Scamander x OC series)

Prologue, Chapter 1

Summary: When Victoire McKinnon, one of the wizarding world's most proficient curse-breakers, is asked to assist and protect the Ministry of Magic's Auror Department in their crusade against Grindelwald, she finds herself stuck working with the extremely annoying, exceptionally good looking Theseus Scamander.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, fighting, and blood, 2,213 words

..........

Victoire had been hired by Gringotts to work as a curse breaker immediately after the conclusion of her seventh year at Hogwarts. Her summer had been spent doing introductory work in the crypts and mausoleums in Egypt. It had been hot and physically taxing, but her best friend Anthea Barrows had also been hired, so it had been relatively pleasant.

However, after a few weeks, the goblins overseeing the site were thoroughly impressed by her abilities and leadership, and decided to transfer her to a more advanced mission at the Mahoutokoro School in Japan. Top curse breaker Elihu Castor had been assigned to break into a cursed shrine and retrieve a valuable jade statue - Victoire was more than thrilled to help.

Of course, when it came down to the mission itself, the two of them misread a series of runes and set off a series of deadly curses. Luckily, Victoire’s quick thinking and proficiency in protection charms saved both of their lives and the statue. It only took them two more weeks to locate and retrieve the rest of the set of statues.

News of their success quickly reached the wizarding world, and since then, Victoire was widely regarded as one of the top curse breakers alive (despite her young age). Now, her time was mostly divided between field work in Japan and Uganda, where she taught several courses part-time at the Uagadou School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

In short, very little of Victoire’s time was ever spent in Europe. She did, however, own a very small apartment in London for when she needed to travel home. It consisted of a bedroom, a combined kitchen and eating area, and a bathroom; space (or lack thereof) wasn’t really an issue.

Her apartment was located on the top floor of the building, and there was a large skylight above her bed. The walls were adorned with hanging plants and maps, and the floors were covered in homemade rugs she had received as gifts. The small space was smothered in memories of her travels and achievements, and she adored it.

It was just past seven in the morning. She had been woken up by the infuriating beeping of her alarm clock, and was now trying to work up the motivation to leave the comfy duvet-cocoon she had wrapped around herself.

She finally kicked her legs over the side of the bed, cringing when they made contact with the cold floor. She stood up slowly, stretching her arms over her head and yawning softly.

Victoire trudged into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and grabbing a container of mealworms and eggs. The eggs went on the countertop next to the stove for breakfast, and the mealworms went in the beak of the hungry owl bouncing around on the island.

“You’re up rather early,” she cooed, opening the container and putting a handful of worms in a small dish. The small tawny owl chirped happily, bouncing over to his breakfast as Victoire set the bowl down.

Short-Snout had been a present from her parents on her eighteenth birthday. The small owl had been affectionately named after her favorite species of dragon, and had accompanied her on all her curse-breaking adventures so far.

She turned to the stove, cracking two eggs into a pan and whisking them around a bit before turning on the front burner and setting the pan down. It only took a few minutes for the eggs to cook through, and she slid them onto a plate before walking back into her bedroom.

She shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth and set the plate down on the chest at the foot of her bed. She then turned to her closet, throwing on some loose black pants and a grey turtleneck.

Torquil Travers had given her a folder containing information on all of the missing wizards. She flipped the light green folder open and sat down on her bed, reaching for another bite of scrambled eggs. She’d been familiarizing herself with the information since yesterday afternoon, making note of all the possible reasons for their disappearances.

She could not deny the anxiety that was beginning to bubble within her. Of course she was fully capable of doing this job, and doing it well, but it was her partner she was concerned about. While she was fairly confident she could deal with his negative and annoying attitude (she did have two older brothers who acted quite similarly), she didn’t want it to have a negative effect on her performance. She had a pristine reputation in the eyes of both Gringotts and the Ministry of Magic, and she didn’t want Theseus Scamander to ruin that.

~~~~~

It was almost nine o’clock by the time Victoire reached the door of Theseus’s office. It had stopped raining sometime during the night, but London’s skies were still covered in a thick layer of gray clouds. In her opinion, this was perfect walking weather, and she was rather annoyed she would be spending the better part of the day so far underground.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, praying Theseus would be more willing to work with her today than he was yesterday.

“Come in.”

She pushed the door open slowly, peering into the rather refined looking room. It was rather intimidating looking, with dark mahogany furniture and bookshelves lining the walls.

“Well don’t just stand there,” Theseus said dryly. She glared at him pointedly, stepping into the office and closing the door behind her.

“Good morning to you, too, Mr. Scamander,” Victoire replied sarcastically, setting her bag down on the ground. She sat down in a rather comfy maroon chair in the corner of the room, putting as much space between her and Theseus as possible in the small space.

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the room, and Victoire squirmed in her seat a little. Theseus was currently preoccupied reading a lengthy looking document, loosely holding a quill in his hand and occasionally scratching notes onto the parchment. She drummed her fingers on her leg lightly, growing rather impatient.

After what seemed like ages, Theseus straightened out the set of papers and set it off to the side of his desk.

“How are you today, Miss McKinnon?” he asked, finally looking up at Victoire with a cocky grin on his face.

“I’m alright, and you?” she said curtly.

“I’m doing quite well, thank you for asking,” he replied, still grinning.

“I’ve read through the files Travers gave me quite extensively,” she began, reaching to pull her folder out of her bag, “and I think I adequately understand each case. Which one will we be starting with, may I ask?” She opened the folder and looked up at him with an inquisitive expression.

Theseus bit his bottom lip thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair to open a drawer at the bottom of his desk. He pulled out a similar looking green folder and leafed through its contents quickly, pulling out a few sheets of paper and placing them in front of him.

“Travers wants us to sort out the Chester Street case first, since it's the oldest one to date,” he said, closing the drawer and pulling his chair closer to the desk. Victoire nodded, pulling a similar looking sheet out of her own folder.

“I’ve already come up with several possible explanations for this one in particular, but until we can visit the house itself, I won’t be able to know for sure,” she stated.

A few months ago, someone had reported a group of people congregating outside 16 Chester Street, a home that had been abandoned for several decades. Some of the descriptions provided matched those of wanted dark wizards, so Travers had sent three of his top Aurors to arrest the party on a count of trespassing.

Pembroke Mallow, Roger Grouse, and Louis Sullivan had not returned that day, or the next day, or the day after that. Further investigation found no traces of them or their targets in the house, though reportedly it seemed clear some sort of struggle had taken place.

“Travers has already given us permission to conduct investigations independently, so that won’t be a problem,” Theseus replied.

“Great, when can we go, then?” she inquired. Theseus looked at his watch.

“Honestly, I’m not really doing anything else today. We could probably go right now if we wanted,” he said.

“Oh, cool,” Victoire grinned. “Are there any, like, forms we need to fill out? I’m pretty unfamiliar with Ministry protocol for these kinds of things,” she admitted.

“We already have written permission to visit, but if we find anything of importance I can do the paperwork,” he responded.

“Well, thank you,” Victoire replied, smiling genuinely. Theseus nodded and looked back down at the papers on his desk.

“Will you really be able to figure out what happened just by looking at the house?” he asked, somewhat skeptical. Victoire gave him a confused look.

“I mean, probably,” she replied slowly, “that’s literally my whole job.”

“And what is that, exactly?”

“You go somewhere and you figure out what happened, what spells were cast, what enchantments are on the place, and then you undo them if you can,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “Is that not what this is?”

“I mean, to an extent, but right now we're talking about saving human lives, not pieces of ancient pottery,” Theseus remarked.

“First of all, the basic procedure is essentially the same. Second, those pieces of ancient pottery offer valuable insight into the lives of past civilizations,” Victoire retorted, growing rather irritated.

“No, they offer funds for whatever organization asked you to find them in the first place,” Theseus said, standing up and grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair.

“That’s not even a valid argument- where are you going?” she asked, her aggravation evident in her voice by this point.

“Chester Street,” he replied simply. “Will you be accompanying me?”

Victoire grumbled, reaching for her jacket as she stood up to grab his outstretched arm. She was thoroughly regretting her decision to accept this position as Theseus apparated them away.

~~~~~

It was clear the house had been abandoned for quite some time, with pieces of siding falling off and smashed in windows. It was rather austere looking, not too large or too small, and not remotely unique or exciting looking. Still, Victoire was on high alert as Theseus led the way to the front door.

The grass from the lawn had turned into thick weeds and shrubs that had overtaken what used to be the walkway. She easily made her way up the rotting front steps, with most of her professional experience being in structures that were falling apart somehow.

Theseus quickly opened the front door, cringing a little when it creaked loudly.

“The whole house is quite messy, since no one’s lived here for quite some time,” Theseus said as she walked through the doorway, “but the most turned over area is the study to your left.”

Victoire nodded, still mad and not really wanting to talk to him unless necessary.

“That’s where they think the fighting happened,” Theseus added, closing the door behind them and pulling his wand out of his jacket.

He cast a quick lighting charm as he led them into the study, with her inhaling sharply as she took in the scene before her.

All the furniture was turned over. Chairs and books and trinkets looked like they had been thrown across the room, and the carpet had somehow been pushed into the corner. The hardwood floor was covered in burn marks and shattered glass.

“There’s blood over here,” Theseus observed, walking over to a flipped over desk and bending over to inspect it more closely.

“It certainly looks like a fight happened,” Victoire said softly, gaze falling on the curtains that looked like they had been ripped off their rod.

She had begun to paint a picture in her head of what the fight might have looked like - someone trying to grab onto the curtains while another person dragged them across the room, someone else tearing books off the shelves and hurling them at an attacker. As she looked around, her eyes were drawn to a light blue vase standing upright on the floor in the middle of the room. Odd, considering the rest of the room looked like the aftermath of a tornado.

It seemed Theseus had also caught sight of the vase.

“How is this standing up?” he asked incredulously, reaching down to pick it up.

“Don't touch it!” she shouted, jabbing her wand in his direction. Theseus flew backwards, back hitting the wall with a loud thud.

“Ouch,” he said, grimacing as he slowly stood back up. He gave her a pointed glare as he rubbed the back of his neck

“Sorry,” she said meekly, “but we really shouldn’t touch anything, considering we don’t know what caused those Aurors to disappear.”

“Good point,” Theseus admitted reluctantly. “I’m sure in your line of work touching things can result in imminent peril.” Victoire nodded, crouching down to inspect the vase more closely.

“Isn’t it weird that in the middle of all this fighting this vase is still standing upright?” she said aloud.

“It definitely wasn’t thrown, it would’ve broken when it hit the floor,” Theseus commented, crouching down next to her.

“It’s like some put it here.” She grabbed a pen from her pocket and reached out to tap the vase lightly.

Both of them gasped as the pen vanished from Victoire’s grip. Theseus looked at the vase, then her, then back at the vase.

“What the fuck was that?” he exclaimed, standing up and backing away from the vase.

“I think it’s a vanishing spell,” Victoire muttered.

“They enchanted the vase with a vanishing spell?” Theseus asked. She nodded.

“But this is very advanced magic, I mean it’s hard enough to vanish a mouse, let alone three people,” Victoire said, flicking her wand over the vase in an intricate pattern. She nudged the vase with the corner of her sleeve and, satisfied with her jacket not disappearing from sight, picked it up.

“Are there any wizards associated with Grindelwald who could perform this level of magic?” she asked, turning around to face Theseus.

“Other than Grindelwald himself, I have no idea,” he said honestly. “Do you think this is what did it?”

“Did what?”

“Made those Aurors disappear,” he clarified, gesturing to the vase in your hands.

“Yea, I think so,” Victoire stated. “I hope I’m wrong.”

“Why?” Theseus asked, brows knitting together in confusion. “You figured it out, you’re not happy about that?”

“Theseus, if I’m right, that means we’re dealing with an extremely dangerous wizard,” Victoire stated dryly. “Furthermore, I have absolutely no clue how to un-vanish those wizards.”

“Well, what happens when you vanish something?” he asked genuinely.

“If I remember my transfiguration professor correctly, vanished objects enter a state of nonbeing,” she replied.

“What does that even mean?” Theseus groaned, rubbing the sides of his temples in frustration and messing up his already messy hair.

“I genuinely have no clue,” she said. “I think the best thing to do would be to bring the vase back to Travers and have someone sweep the area for any more objects with vanishing enchantments.”

“And then what?”

“Perhaps we could start looking at the other cases, and I’ll do some research about vanishing spells in the meantime.”

~~~~~

Victoire was once again sitting in the cushioned maroon armchair in the corner of Theseus’s office. Theseus was sitting at his desk filling out several forms about their discoveries. The vase had been entrusted to Travers.

In her lap was a large reference book of spells. She’d been pouring over it for the last hour or so, jotting down any spells that could possibly reverse the vanishing spell on a human. So far, she’d had relatively little success.

“Have you found anything interesting?” Theseus asked, setting his quill down and flexing his hand.

“The vanishing spell, evanesco, can be used to vanish animate and inanimate objects, gets more difficult to perform as the target gets more complex,” she stated, reading off her notes.

“So it would be incredibly hard to vanish a person?” Theseus asked.

“Yes, I believe so,” she replied.

“Any information on how to undo it yet?”

“Nope.”

“Fantastic,” Theseus replied sarcastically, resting his forehead on the top of his desk.

“Hey, on the bright side, we now have a good idea of what happened to those Aurors,” Victoire offered. Theseus rolled his eyes.

“And now I’m going to have to tell their families that we know what happened to them but we don’t know how to undo it, which is not going to be fun,” he retorted. Victoire frowned.

“At least they’ll have some sort of closure for the time being,” she countered, “which is better than what they’ve had up to now.”

“How do you plan on figuring this out?” Theseus asked, gesturing to your book, his head still planted firmly on his desk.

“I was going to apparate to Uagadou after this, since they have a really large library section about the history and mechanics of spells. I’ll probably be able to find some information there,” she said. “Then I was going to write to some of my colleagues and see if they have any experiences with this kind of thing.”

“I’m sure many Curse-Breakers have un-vanished people,” Theseus said flatly.

“No, but I’m sure someone has retrieved an object with a vanishing spell on it at some point, meaning there has to be a way of retrieving said object from non-being,” she replied.

“So you’re telling me that during your highly acclaimed career, you’ve never encountered a vanishing spell?” Theseus said, sitting up and cracking his neck.

“Mister Scamander, the majority of my job has been centered in Japan, where wizards traditionally hid artifacts of significant value or importance in elaborate webs of magic-based traps and devices,” she said, closing her book rather loudly for emphatic effect.

“So…”

“So no, I have not encountered vanishing spells thus far,” Victoire stated. She glared at Theseus, who was grinning with satisfaction.

“I see I’ve hit a nerve,” he replied cockily.

“Listen, I understand you have little respect for my line of work, but you can’t deny it requires at least some advanced magical ability unless you want to get yourself killed, so if you could quit alluding to the fact that I’m inept somehow I’d greatly appreciate it,” she fumed, sliding the book in her bag and standing up.

“Miss McKinnon-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she interjected coldly, more than happy to slam the door on her way out.

[Tags: @littleyellowladybugg @missjockey101 @hearteyesmotherclucker @mrshazosterfield ]

A/N: Folks, it has taken me a whole heck ton of time to start writing again. I had a lot fo writer's block these past few months (school is overwhelming, lots to do, etc.), BUT currently I am on coronacation and with a little encouragement from @littleyellowladybugg , I have decided to start trying to write again. I currently am writing the next two chapters for this series (which is amazing I'm never on top of anything), and I'm gonna try to post every Thursday - hence, Thursday's will now be "Theseus Thursdays," which I think is pretty darn clever. Anyways, I really hope you like this, like/reblog/comment/follow if you want, message me or somethin’ if ya wanna be tagged, and have a marvelous day :)

#fantastic beasts and where to find them #fantastic beasts the crimes of grindelwald #theseus scamander x oc #theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #theseus x reader #theseus x oc #theseus imagine #theseus scamander imagine #fantastic beasts

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minervacasterly · 4 years

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~Henry, Seventh of his name by the grace of God, to rule over England, Ireland and Wales~ Henry VII, first monarch of the Tudor Dynasty, deserves to be more than just a footnote in history. His family changed the face of not just history, but none of that would have taken place without their forefather, Henry and his loved ones. Henry VII was a master propagandist who heightened the perception of the king's power and his dynasty as divinely blessed in addition to being linked to Cadwalladr and King Arthur. He was the first King of England to be fully featured in a golden coin. The Golden Sovereign as it became known has Henry enthroned, holding the scepter in his right hand and a ball on his left hand with the words King of England around. This was done to emphasize Henry's position as rightful sovereign. Henry was a quarter Welsh -something that like his granddaughter, Mary I’s Spanish ancestry, has been used against him. But if we look at the royal bloodlines of other kings and queens, we find that all of them had different nationalities. There was no such thing as pure-English. Even Elizabeth of York and her siblings whose parents were both English were not pure-English. Elizabeth Woodville’s mother, Jacquetta of Luxembourg was French. Most of the English premier noblemen owed their fortunes to their Norman ancestors. They came to England with the Conqueror, William, Duke of Normandy, who (like Henry Tudor) challenged the English King for his crown and defeated him at battle. And even the Anglo-Saxons were not native to England. Before them, there were the Celts and other tribes who they themselves Yet, the concept is one that remains very popular and as centuries passed, and the geo-political situation of the British Isles continue to change, the pendulum swung in the other direction. Henry was an usurper, a foreigner and a rogue whereas Richard, an angelic King, was a just man who had been unfairly robbed of his divine right. Jane Austen is a perfect example of this new geo-political landscape. Before she became a published author, Jane wrote during her teenage years that Henry was “as great a villain as ever lived” who “made a great fuss about getting the crown and having killed the king at the battle of Bosworth.” Jane went on to add that the only good thing that came out of Henry VII (and his dynasty for that matter) was his eldest daughter whose descendants united both crowns, and Henry VIII whose reign saw the creation of the Anglican Church. Jane had plenty of bad things to say about Henry VIII too but thought he wasn’t “quite so bad as his daughter Elizabeth.” Fast forward to a few decades later to the Victorian era and you see an increase in popularity for Richard III. This is not surprising. England’s national identity was more important than ever. Xenophobia was in the air and with the English queen being half-German married to her cousin who was German, it became more important than build on that national identity. As a result, countless writers began to rely on secondary sources that distorted most first-hand accounts, painting a picture about the Tudors -namely Henry VII and his mother, Margaret Beaufort- that was far removed from reality. At the time that Henry VII became King of England, the country was in chaos. Everyone was holding their breath, eager to see their new king walking down the streets of London, hoping -begging the almighty- that his reign would last and usher in an era of peace and economic prosperity. Henry VII achieved the former during the last years of his reign, though the chronicles would have everyone believed that he put an end to the wars of the roses the minute he defeated Richard’s forces. The latter was also achieved but it came at a high price. By the time of Henry VII’s death, the crown’s coffers were full but his subjects’ adoration for him had become almost non-existent. Henry levied excessive taxes on the rich and poor alike, and while he survived every rebellion against him, people’s animosity for him continued. Henry’s attitude is largely owed to his reasonable paranoia. Living fourteen years of exile had taught him that he would never be safe unless he rooted out all his enemies. Few people comprehended this; those that did had died except for his mother whom he continued to rely on for emotional support. Margaret Beaufort was an indomitable woman, someone who had more experience at court than Henry did. But he quickly learned how to navigate that world thanks to his stay at the Breton and French courts during his exile. In the five hundred and eighteen years after his death, he remains a controversial figure. People associate him with the image that came in the last years of his reign -that of the miser and the Winter King, and of course the one that’s the product of secondary sources and latest novels: the true culprit behind the princes in the tower’s disappearance or an enabler who used his mother and her husband to dispose of them. This has a lot to do with how we think of Henry, a man who spend hours sitting behind his desk, overseeing every state affair and paying more attention to what was going on his kingdom than squandering his time and money on women and other vices that destroyed the reputations of previous kings. Henry’s life story however is just as interesting as all of these other monarchs. And the fact of the matter is that regarding the princes’ disappearance, is something we will never know. But just as Richard’s defenders say that you cannot condemn him based on little evidence, you can use the same argument for Henry and his mother. There are ‘perhaps’ ‘could haves’ but never any certainties. Just as kings were known to be pious, they were also known to be cruel and Richard was no different. The facts don’t lie, to secure his power, he executed Lord Rivers (Elizabeth Woodville’s brother), Richard Woodville (hers on), and Hastings and imprisoned others that he considered were also a threat. His brother and father had been brutally killed when he was very young, and being exposed to violence at a very young era, no doubt, had an effect on him. The same can be said for Henry Tudor who saw from an early age the destruction of his mother’s house, the Beauforts, and his uncle’s, the Lancastrian. And when he became a target of Edward IV (who feared he would be perceived as the new hope for the lase Lancastrians) he and his uncle Jasper fled the country. This alone makes him one of the most fascinating figures in European medieval history. For more info on Henry VII's reign and legacy, check out these articles on my blog: https://tudorsandotherhistories.wordpress.com/2017/08/22/henry-vii-the-man-behind-the-legend/ https://tudorsandotherhistories.wordpress.com/2015/01/28/birth-death-two-henrys-and-their-legacies/ https://tudorsandotherhistories.wordpress.com/2018/03/14/henry-vii-and-king-arthur-unifying-and-divisive-figures/ I also recommend the following biographies: Tudor by Leanda de Lisle, Henry VII by SB Chrimes, Henry VII Cunningham, Bosworth by Chris Skidmore (an in depth study about the battle of Bosworth and the series of events leading up to it), Wars of the Roses: Fall of the Plantagenet and Rise of the Tudors by Dan Jones, and Winter King by Thomas Penn. I also recommend this The Anne Boleyn Files video on Henry VII and Elizabeth of York's marriage: https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Anne+Boleyn+Files+Henry+VII

#Tudor #History #Henry VII #Renaissance

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eureka-roleplay · 3 years

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And I’m back to my ways ‘cause I’m heartless, all this money and this pain got me heartless

WESTON JAMESON

Age: 33 Gender and pronouns: Male, He/Him Occupation: Owner of Civil Barbers & Eureka City Council President Neighbourhood: Humboldt Hills

BIOGRAPHY

tw: cancer, cheating

Weston Jameson was born and raised in Eureka, California. His parents were high school sweethearts who married young and eventually had three children –– Weston (the youngest), Daniel (the middle child) and Ava ( the oldest). His father and grandfather owned and operated the Eureka Theater downtown, his mother was a waitress at various restaurants while attending college in hopes to go to law school, however, she gave up her career to take care of her children and make them her priority. When Weston’s grandfather retired, Weston’s parents inherited and ran the Eureka Theater.

Being the younger of three children, Weston learned from his older brother and sister. More importantly, he learned from their mistakes. Because Weston wasn’t as physically strong or large like the other kids at school, he learned very quickly that brains often won over braun. His family and friends would call him a smartass who could weasel his way out of any situation with words. Leaning into that natural gift, which was only reinforced by his mother who often studied for her exams with her youngest son and taught him from her books and school work, Weston became very driven to succeed in school. He ended up graduating at the top of his class but was forced to settle for a local community college to get his undergrad courses out of the way. Money was very tight in the Jameson household and Weston learned very quickly just how much power came with enough money. He watched landlords bully his grandfather and parents around with rent increases, even watched how the system broke down his siblings as well –– his older brother fell into crime at an early age, mostly stealing and pick-pocketing until it escalated to bigger robberies where he actually got caught and charged. His older brother is currently serving a five year sentence for assault and theft. Weston’s older sister, however, went to Los Angeles to chase her dreams and she only visits during the holidays now.

After a two year stint in community college, Weston went around town picking up any job he could –– including many he wasn’t quite qualified for. He was an intern at city hall, a waiter at Jack’s Seafood, helped his local CPA file taxes, did some bookkeeping for his parent’s theater, etc. It was safe to say he gathered a lot of different kinds of experience and used it to his advantage. Working provided him with a large income that he saved over the course of four years, which granted him the opportunity to open his own business –– Civil Barber. Weston desperately wanted the shop to be a success so he attended online courses for a degree in Business and put his heart and soul into the space, which paid off since it instantly became a success, not just in Eureka. Within a few years, he was asked to expand and he set up a location in San Diego and Los Angeles.

Weston eventually moved to Los Angeles but came back home to Eureka two years ago. The most important thing to Weston is his family –– which had been broken when his mother passed away two years ago after a long fight with breast cancer. When his mother first got ill, Weston moved back to his hometown of Eureka, leaving his promising business prospects in Los Angeles to be with his family when they needed him most. He paid for his mother to have the best care but in the end she succumbed to her illness. After that, Weston decided to stay in town and eventually took over the Eureka Theater so his father could retire. He kept up with the theater for a few years before selling it for a profit.

Right now Weston is running his own little empire from Eureka. His barber shops have proven to be a success and with his investments in other businesses both in Los Angeles and San Diego, Weston is proving himself a wildly successful businessman. In fact, Weston has become so successful and possesses such a charming aura about him that his father recently told him he should run for mayor. While Weston’s father might’ve suggested it as somewhat of a joke, Weston took it as a challenge and after meeting with some local politicians and investors, he was able to secure a campaign. Whether he wins or not, Weston knows that the press from it all will only add to his success so what he’s really hoping to get out of the campaign is some good ‘ol free publicity.

Personality wise, Weston can be described as incredibly intelligent and cunning. He’s very good at reading people and knowing the right buttons to push to get under a person’s skin. However, he can also be incredibly charming and well-mannered, which makes him likable at first blush. You can always catch him standing tall with a wide smile like the true optimist he is and usually wearing a suit no matter the occasion since he was told at a young age from his grandfather that you had to dress for the job you wanted. While Weston has a lot of good qualities, he also has a lot of bad ones –– he can be selfish at times and do things that are only self-serving, but it’s one of the reasons why he’s such a good business man. He knows when to be cutthroat and isn’t afraid to make the tough decisions.

While Weston has usually been able to seamlessly intertwine his good and bad qualities in a way that still makes him likable, after his mother’s passing two years ago he really leaned into making money and bringing success to his family’s name as a coping mechanism. So he dedicated a lot his time to his work, and somewhere along the way his morals got a little skewed. In the end, he slept with his best friend’s girl and didn’t even think twice about it. A year later, Weston is in a better place and trying to get back to his roots and perhaps even righting a few wrongs.

WESTON JAMESON has the face claim of CHARLES MICHAEL DAVIS and is played by SAM

#t #tm #humboldt hills #charles michael davis #civil barbers #eureka city hall

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spaceskam · 4 years

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The Desert Three (1)

i’m so excited to finally post this! special thanks to @insidious-intent who has listened to me ramble about this and a million other things for some reason

ao3

MISSING TEENS: KATE LONG, JASMINE FREDERICK, and ROSA ORTECHO

Police Find Bodies of Missing Girls Murdered in the New Mexico Desert

Ongoing Investigation On Desert Three; Police Remain Silent On Possible Suspect

Townspeople of Roswell, NM Say They Know Who Is Responsible For Desert Three: What Do The Police Have To Say?

Sheriff Valenti Announces Possible Suspect of Desert Three Murders: A 17-Year-Old Male Student

“Mr. Valenti, please. You have to know I didn’t do this, I-I promise. I was home that night, ask my dad.”

Jim Valenti stared at Alex Manes as professionally as possible. He’d known Alex since he was born, had seen him when he took his first steps, had been the best man at his father’s wedding. He knew this boy. He knew he couldn’t have done it.

But evidence didn’t lie.

“Mr. Manes, your DNA was found near the site where the bodies were found. How do you explain that?” he asked. He watched Alex’s bottom lip quiver, slowly but surely reverting into that little boy who scraped his knee the first time he got ahold of a skateboard. Jim had watched him develop into a young man. And now he got to watch him be stripped of that.

“I don’t know! I swear I wasn’t there. I swear, I swear, I swear,” Alex insisted, voice thick with tears, “Ask my dad! I was home!”

“We questioned your father earlier this morning,” Jim told him honestly, “He said he thought you were home, but he didn’t see you so he can’t confirm.”

Alex’s eyes widened with utter fear. “He’s lying! Mr. Valenti, you know he’s lying!”

“What does he get out of lying about that, son?” he asked. He knew Jesse could be a bit cruel when it came to parenting, but having a murderer for a son only looked bad on him. There was no reason for lying.

“Because he–” Alex started, but he froze and bowed his head, “I don’t know.”

“Alex, is there something you aren’t telling me?” he asked. Alex didn’t answer the question.

“I didn’t do it. I didn’t.”

“Is there anyone who would frame you?” Jim asked. Alex took a shuttered breath, fat tears falling from his face into the table. The parent in Jim wanted to comfort him, but this was an interrogation.

“I don’t know! I-I don’t even talk to anyone, I didn’t piss anyone off,” he said, sniffling, “Well, I got in that fight with Kyle, but Kyle didn’t do it either. He’s an ass–sorry, sir–but he isn’t a murderer. But neither am I!”

“You know, sometimes we do things and we don’t remember,” Jim said, “Is it possible you blacked out?”

“No,” Alex said firmly, “I remember everything that night. I didn’t blackout. I didn’t kill those girls.”

“There’s been a lot of talk about cult imagery,” Jim said, opening the file and pushing the photos of the girls with their handprints and the oddly decorated cave, “Did that have anything to do with this? Was this an initiation thing? Look at photos, son.”

Alex reluctantly looked up, but it was followed by a wounded noise and he clamped his hands over his eyes. “I love Rosa. And I don’t even know the other two! There’s no cult shit, or-or if there is, it wasn’t me! It wasn’t me, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me.”

“Okay,” Jim said, pulling the photos away, “Okay, I’m going to go have a talk with the other officers. We don’t have enough to keep you here, but we have too much to let you go. Maybe I can get them agree to house arrest until we find more evidence in either direction.”

Alex rubbed his eyes and nodded.

Jim felt sick as he left the room, becoming more and more conflicted with each thought. His daughter was dead and the main suspect was a boy who felt like a son. But Rosa being his daughter wasn’t public knowledge, nor could it be, so, as far as anyone knew, there wasn’t any conflict of interest.

He just had to figure this out.

Maxwell Evans never claimed to be intelligent.

“Liz,” he whispered, “Can I come in?”

Liz looked up from the counter, face dry and determined. Max had expected to see her cry. It seemed fitting that she wasn’t. She slowly made her way to unlock the door for him.

It was 11:39 PM on the night that it had been publically announced their possible suspect being Alex Manes. Max felt bad about it. Alex was always nice to him. But, at the end of the day, Isobel came first for him. Liz was a close second.

“I think we might have to postpone our road trip,” Liz said. Max exhaled softly and managed a smile for her. That nagging voice in his mind repeated that he’d killed her sister. He ignored it.

“Raincheck?”

“Yeah.”

Liz stared up at him for a moment, kind and curious eyes. She seemed to go through a couple of different thoughts before deciding to step into his space and hug him. Last week, Max would’ve cheered. Today, he just felt worse.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked her.

“Not really.”

“Okay,” he said, “You can come to me if you need to talk.”

Isobel didn’t have to be there; he felt her judgment. He shouldn’t have offered that. She had told him that after killers placed themselves close to the crime. Coming to Liz was off-limits, she was too close, Max was too weak.

But Liz was hugging him and that’s all he wanted.

“Thank you. I will.”

Michael stood helplessly outside of Alex’s window. He’d hidden behind bushes until he saw Jesse Manes leave and now he was trying to work up the nerve to go talk to him.

He knew he shouldn’t talk to him. This was his fault. This was all his fault. He was the reason there was Alex’s DNA and the reason there was a crime scene to begin with. Why couldn’t he have just been smarter? He could’ve prevented this whole thing.

Michael, despite knowing it was a horrible idea, pounded against the window with his good hand. His left one still throbbed wildly, but that was okay as long as he got to see Alex’s face.

The blinds shifted slightly but didn’t move. He knocked more. The lights turned off.

“Alex, it’s me,” he hissed, “It’s Michael. Open up.”

Slowly, slowly, the blinds lifted. On the other side of the window, Alex stood looking like a ghost of himself. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was pale, his body looking frail in his rumbled up clothing. Michael wanted to drown him in hugs.

Alex sniffled and unlocked the window, pushing it open. Michael climbed in and wrapped him up in his arms, nearly lifting him off the ground as he hugged him as tight as he could. His sniffly nose and his tiny whimpers filled Michael’s ear. All he wanted to do was tell him everything, but that wasn’t an option.

It would never be an option.

“I just heard what happened,” Michael said after he put him down. Alex stayed close, his hands gripping Michael’s shirt. “Are you okay? What did they say? How did they even suspect you or, like, arrest you? I don’t understand.” That wasn’t a lie. He didn’t understand.

When he found that Isobel had killed those girls a month prior, he just thought he’d be protecting her. He hadn’t anticipated Alex being roped into this mess. How the hell was he supposed to protect them both?

“I-It was horrible,” Alex said, moving closer and laying his head on his chest, “How’s your hand?”

“Alex, forget about that, how are you?” Alex still was focusing on his hand, so Michael placed it on his back. “Tell me what happened.”

“They came to my house in, like, the middle of the night to bring me in for questioning which was super scary. I complied and stuff, but then they arrested me under suspicion because my DNA was at the scene. They even said they had a witness,” Alex whispered. Michael shook his head involuntarily.

“A witness? How the hell?”

“I don’t know! I feel like they’re just targeting me for some reason. I didn’t do it. I don’t know how my DNA got there,” Alex cried, a new wave of tears hitting him. He raised his head to look at Michael in the eyes. “You believe me, right? I didn’t do this.”

“Alex, of course, I believe you.” I know the truth.

Alex relaxed, resting his forehead against Michael’s solemnly. It made it harder to deal with it. When Alex’s eyes opened again, he thought about dropping to his knees and confessing every sin.

“I can’t believe my dad paid my bail and is paying for my house arrest,” Alex whispered, “I’m scared.”

“It’s going to be okay. They don’t have hard evidence or a motive or anything‒they can convict you,” Michael tried. Alex gave an uneasy little smile.

“They do have a motive,” he said, petting Michael’s chest. Michael couldn’t fucking breathe. “They think I’m in a cult. The girls had matching marks and the cave nearby had imagery and… guess who looks like they’re in a cult.”

Alex laughed but Michael didn’t find it funny. He couldn’t go down for this. He couldn’t go down for something Isobel dead. But Isobel couldn’t go down for what Isobel did. What the fuck was he going to do?

“Stay, please? I don’t wanna be alone tonight,” Alex asked. Before Michael could find words, Alex leaned forward and kissed him. It was a much different kiss than the ones they’d had before. This one was seeking comfort, begging for it. As guilty as it made him feel, that was something he could do.

He kissed him and brought him to his bed and did his best to make them both forget about reality.

Jim Valenti rocked back in his chair as he displayed the evidence before him.

Staring down at the face of his dead daughter was… taxing. He’d just gotten to know her, just gotten to love her. He supposed it was his fault for not being more involved from the start. Now, how much more involved could he get?

He remembered the first time he saw a handprint like that on a body in person. It was of an elderly man, a shotgun laid a few feet away from his body. He was taught that an evil alien had killed him for no reason. When he asked about the shotgun, he didn’t get an answer.

Every other time he saw it, it was only in pictures. Until now. Now he had three. That meant there was an alien out in the wild who murdered his daughter. Why her? Of all people, why her?

Her body seemed to be the worst off out of them all. Her handprint was the most visible, the break in her neck the most violent. It almost felt like a sign to him, like they knew about him and wanted to get back at him. Was that even possible?

He flipped through pages and got to the DNA confirmation. It was a teeny, tiny strand of hair that was found by the entrance of the cave that was too short to belong to any of the girls. They’d sent it for testing and it came back as a close relative to Master Sargent Jesse Manes. The obvious next step was Alex. Well, obvious to everyone else. There had already been chatter that he was suspicious. Dark clothes, makeup, jewelry, music taste. All of it Satan worship apparently.

They held Alex for 24 hours and put a rush on the DNA confirmation. Jim wanted to make them check it again. It didn’t make sense that Alex would do this. Most of all, Alex couldn’t have put handprints on those girls… right?

“Michelle,” he called after thinking too hard about it. His wife hovered by the entrance of his office and he waved her inside. She closed the door behind herself and neared him, leaning against his desk. He stared up at her for a minute in that same admiration he felt every time he saw her. Every fuck up he ever made, she was still there. He was definitely blessed. “Do you remember Lily Manes?”

She furrowed her eyebrows and nodded slowly. “Of course I remember her. We were good friends before she left town.”

“Right,” he confirmed, “Do you remember anything… off about her or Alex? When you’d take the boys to the park or babysat for her, did you notice anything?” Michelle rolled her eyes and pushed off the desk.

“That boy is innocent. I don’t know what you think his mother did to him, but whatever it was didn’t make him a killer.”

“No, no, not that,” he said, grabbing her hand to pull her closer. He thought about pulling her onto his lap, but that felt wrong when the crime scene photos of his dead love child were displayed in front of him. “I mean, was there anything off? Not their relationship, but who she was as a person. Maybe she was sort of… intuitive?” How did he ask if she thought her friend was an alien?

“What the hell are you getting at, Jim?” she asked, taking her hand away. He sighed, shaking his head.

“Nothing, nothing,” Jim said. He needed to go to a different source. Besides, it didn’t make sese that Alex was an alien or that Lily was either. Jesse would’ve known that. The only other solution was that maybe one escaped and was getting back at the Manes family. Or, maybe Alex was befriending aliens. None of which made sense, but it had to be something.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, but Alex is a sweet boy. He cried during The Lion King for crying out loud. He didn’t do this, you need to prove that,” she told him. Jim sighed but couldn’t be angry at her for her insistance. None of this fucking made sense.

“I know, I’m gonna figure it out. You can go back to work,” he told her. She nodded and kissed his head before leaving.

Jim waited until she was gone before sinking into his chair. He needed to go deeper than simply “realistic” options. The fact of the matter was that this wasn’t realistic to the public. He needed to change something before this got too deep.

He had to go to Jesse Manes.

“Michael. Michael, wake up.”

Alex shook the boy beside him until he drowsily dragged his eyes open. Alex hadn’t slept. This was the second night in a row Michael had snuck in to sleep beside him, but Alex hadn’t gotten but a few minutes of sleep in all that time. He was far too distracted trying to figure out how to get himself out of this situation. And he thought of something.

“Hmm?” Michael asked, trying his best to act awake. Alex dragged him to a sitting position, eyes wide with excitement.

“I thought of something,” Alex said, “You can be my alibi.”

“Huh?” he grunted. Alex lovingly stroked his hair and his chest. He knew he was asking for a lot, but he was stuck. So, maybe if he loved Michael enough, he would help him.

“The reason I don’t have an alibi and why my dad isn’t saying he saw me is because of what happened in the shed. And, and I know it’s really hard to come out like that, but you’re 17 so maybe they won’t put your name in the papers. All you have to do is say that I couldn’t have done the murders because you were with me and my dad caught us and hurt you and-and, God, I know it’s horrible and I really wouldn’t ever ask you to do this if it wasn’t important, but you’re all I have. You have evidence of what happened and I’m sure there’s… there’s still blood to prove it,” he said, never stopping the petting so Michael would never take it the wrong way.

Still, Michael seemed to wake up real fast and he was moving away from Alex.

“No,” Michael said, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. Alex tried to keep a straight face, tried to not get his feelings hurt.

“No?” Alex clarified. Michael’s breathing seemed to get heavier by the minute.

“I don’t… I just…” Michael let out a harsh breath before looking at Alex. “You can’t just ask me to do something like that.” Alex tried not to look pathetic as he scrambled off the bed.

“I know, I know it’s big, but Michael… you’re all I’ve got. I’m going to go to prison,” Alex said. He hated himself for asking this. He hated himself for pulling this card. “Please. Please do this for me.”

Michael wouldn’t look at him.

“I-I can’t be your alibi, Alex. What if they ask me questions I can’t answer or request a DNA sample or think I helped you? What if they send me back to my foster parents? What if they arrest your fucking father and then no one is there to pay for your house arrest? There’s a million fucking reasons I can’t,” Michael said. Alex’s stomach twisted and it hurt. He gulped softly and held back tears. He cried too much.

“I need your help,” Alex said softly, “You’re my only hope.”

Michael stood with his back to Alex, seemingly rigid. Alex was trying really hard not to cry. He was at risk to lose a lot, but somehow losing Michael hurt worse. He needed someone on his side. Michael was all he had.

“Please, don’t be mad at me,” Alex whispered. He was shaking and feeling like he was two seconds away from sobbing. He needed Michael on his side. “I shouldn’t have asked. I shouldn’t, I’m sorry.”

Michael eventually turned to face him and he grabbed Alex’s neck with his good hand, making their foreheads meet in the middle. Tears rolled over Alex’s cheeks and he wanted to scream. All he wanted was an alibi. That’s all he wanted.

“I don’t want to go to prison,” he told him instead. Michael nodded, wiping his tears away.

“I know, but I can’t be your alibi. If I can help some other way, I will, but I can’t do that. I can’t tell them about that night,” Michael said. Alex nodded slowly. “I’m here for you though. If you need me to come and help you calm down every night, I can, no problem.”

“Okay,” Alex said. Michael moved his hand to Alex’s heart, rubbing his thumb in small cirles.

“I just can’t do that”

“Okay.”

Michael left soon after that, left Alex alone and pondering what to do now. He needed to do something. Sitting here and waiting to be found guilty for a crime he didn’t commit wasn’t an option. He wouldn’t be another person who spent their lives in jail for something they didn’t do.

He was going to find a way out.

“I am going to kill you both! What is wrong with you?!”

Very few times in her life had Isobel felt so full of absolute rage. Both of her brothers had their heads hung. Both of them, both of them, had gone and spoken to that she had pretty deliberately stated were off limits. Liz was off limits from the minute the murder took place; Alex was off limits the minute he got accused of the murder. Simple as that.

“You didn’t see him, Izzy. I had to be a total dick to him,” Michael said, pouty and pathetic, “He just wants me to help. And it’s my fault that I can’t.”

“And Liz’s best friend just got accused of her sisters murder. She needs someone,” Max tried. Isobel let out an incredulous laugh, putting her hands in her hair as she paced. Her heart felt like it was going to explode from stress.

“Guys, I know it sucks, but we don’t have a coice but to choose us over them,” she said slowly. They nodded like they understood, but they clearly didn’t. “They are humans. They have human consequences to what’s going on. Us, though? If we’re found out, we get all the shit in the world.”

“Okay, but me helping Liz doesn’t do anything!” Max argued.

“Yes, it does!” Isobel yelled back, “Both of you are both in such a state of fucking puppy love that you’re going to end up exploding from guilt! And I know, I know it hurts, but if we get caught, we are going to become science expeirements. People are going to fear everyone like us. We’re going to be fucking dissected and tortured and treatd like scum and I don’t want that. I know you don’t either.”

They both nodded and hung their heads still like wounded puppies. Isobel took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She’d been feeling like she was going to pop for a month because of them. All she wanted was to protect them from what happened that night. That’s what sisters did.

“Michael,” Isobel said calmly, “I know you care about him and I know this is hard. But you can’t take back what happened so we just have to stay away.”

Michael closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “Away, like, completely? Like I can’t be with him anymore?”

“If they find out that he has a secret boyfriend, you are immediately going to be put under fire. They’re going to wonder why he didn’t mention you and they’re going to question you. If they find out about the fact that Alex lied about what happened that night, then how long is it before they ask for a DNA sample? How long is it before they notice the DNA isn’t human? How long is it before they connect the deaths to us?”

She didn’t say that she was scared that they already had DNA samples. If there was a single strand of Alex’s hair, then what else did they leave? Hell, Michael was bleeding when it happened. How long was it before they realized the DNA they found was different? Not human, not animal, not plant. She would be terrified for the rest of her goddamn life.

Max reached over and grabbed Michael’s shoulder, giving him a nod of solidarity.

“We can get through this without them, man,” he said. Isobel knew it was a support move and knew that Michael clearly wanted to reject it, but he nodded.

“Good,” Isobel said softly, “Now I need a nap. My head is fucking killing me.”

Alex was just finishing up when there was a knock on his window.

Stupidly, selfishly, he thought it was Michael. He quickly moved the blinds to see Kyle Valenti of all people on the other side. He blinked a few times, wondering if he should even open the window to let him speak.

“Alex,” Kyle said, “Let me in.”

“Why?”

Kyle looked around before saying, “I know something.”

Reluctantly, Alex opened the window and Kyle climbed inside in the least graceful way ever. Alex took a step back as he fell to the floor. He stood to his feet with no comment, eyes wide to share the information he had. He qucikly shut the window behind him.

“Is anyone else home?”

“No.”

“Any the bracelet‒you already did your little techy thing on it, right?” he asked. Alex furrowed his eyebrows.

“If you mean made sure it didn’t have a microphone, then yes.”

Kyle grinned, “Fucking genius. Okay, so, here’s the deal. I broke into my dad’s office at home and may or may not have made copies of all the legal stuff he has at home.”

Alex’s eyes widened as he took the bag off his back and dumped a bunch of documents on his bed. All of it pertained to the case and it was ton of stuff that they hadn’t released to the public. Alex sat on the bed and picked a paper up, reading a transcript of his own interrogation.

“Holy…”

“And I stole my mom’s key and I know, like, the entire layout of the station. If you can help me with the tech stuff, turn off cameras, I can make copies of the rest and we can figure this out,” Kyle explained. Alex blinked hard and looked up at him. He’d never been more confused in his life.

“Why are you trying to help me?” he asked. Of all people to offer to help him and commit fucking crimes for him, he didn’t expect it to be Kyle. Yet, here he was.

“Look, I know I’ve been shitty to you the last couple years.”

“You think?”

“But I know you didn’t do this,” Kyle said sincerely, “If you go to prison, I won’t be able to make up for being a dick. So I’m gonna figure out the real killer and you’re going to help me.”

Alex licked his lips and felt a renewed excitement in his system. This felt like old times. Granted, they used to solve fake murders and this was now the real deal, but still.

“Okay. Give me a few minutes, I was just hacking into the bracelet to make sure it always detected me to be at home,” Alex told him, admittedly wanting to show off. Kyle grinned all wide again.

“Perfect. I’m gonna write out a game plan.”

Alex nodded and went back to his computer.

Alex needed help and while he would’ve liked it to have been Micahel, the sheriff's son wasn’t a bad choice.

#malex #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #jim valenti #isobel evans #kyle valenti #my fic #desert three

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motivatingspeech · 4 years

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Who is Tony Robbins: 15 Things You Don't Know About Tony Robbins.

Who is Tony Robbins? Tony Robbins is a motivational speaker, best-selling author, self-help guru and a businessman. Robbins was born on February 29, 1960 in California. After a difficult childhood he went out on his own and started promoting seminars for motivational speaker Jim Rohn. From there Tony developed his own business as a self-help coach and began hosting seminars. His business began to take off when he started producing infomercials to advertise his books and services over the years. Tony has helped countless celebrities, powerful businessman and everyday people through his individual coaching, weekend seminars books and philanthropy. His celebrity clients include Serena Williams, Leonardo DiCaprio, Oprah Winfrey, Bill Clinton, Chuck Liddell and Hugh Jackman, over 40 years in the business he remains as relevant and successful as ever, where the net worth of around four hundred and eighty million dollars and about thirty million earned annually.

Let’s look at the 15 interesting facts you didn’t know about Tony Robbins:

1. Tony Robbins’s mother kicked him out of the house as a teenager. Tony's parents divorced when he was seven and then his mother had a series of boyfriends and husbands. One of her husband's was a semi-professional baseball player named Jim Robbins who legally adopted Tony when he was 12. When his adopted father abandoned the family, Robbins had to step in as a provider and worked to support his siblings. His mother turned to alcohol and prescription drugs and Tony described his home life as chaotic and abusive. When he was 17 years old his mother chased him out of the house with a knife and Tony never returned. He reconciled with his mother much later and even bought her a beach house in 1991. 2. Tony Robbins grew ten inches in one year because of a tumor. Everyone knows that Tony Robbins is a really tall but most people don’t realize this is due to a medical condition in his sophomore year. In high school Tony was Five feet one inch tall and over the next year he grew ten inches. Nobody knew at the time that he had actually had a pituitary tumor that caused the growth. His height is now six foot seven. 3. Tony Robbins worked as a janitor after he was kicked out of the house. Tony took a job as a janitor where he was making $40 a week. He then started on his own career path when he started working for a motivational speaker Jim Rohn. His job was to call people and convince them to go to Jim’s motivational seminars. Jim took him under his wing and taught him to not ask that life would be easier but that he would be better. 4. Tony Robbins started gaining recognition when he cured somebody’s snake phobia in 15 minutes. When Tony made the claim that he could cure somebody's phobia in 15 minutes, he was publicly attacked on the radio by a psychiatrist who said he was nothing but a charlatan and a liar. Tony challenged her to bring her patients suffering from a phobia of snakes to the Holiday Inn and the following night he would prove himself. It became a bit of a media spectacle but Tony was up for the challenge. The woman who had been suffering from a paralyzing fear of snakes for seven years was cured by Tony in less than 15 minutes and actually allowed Tony to wrap a snake around her shoulders with no fear. Accepting challenges became a signature move of Tony's and helped to elevate his career. 5. Tony Robbins charges businesses a consulting fee of 1 million dollars for his services. Among his other endeavors Tony offers executive consulting and business coaching services. Tony has trained a number of coaches that can be hired by businesses through the Tony Robbins results coaching program. But if you want to hire Tony himself, you have to be ready to pay up. Tony is the most expensive business coach with a fee of 1 million dollars per year in addition to sharing the company’s profits for the year. He claims he can bring a return on investment of up to seven hundred percent more than the initial investment. 6. Tony Robbins plans to feed 1 billion people in the next 10 years. Tony was extremely poor growing up and his family struggled to buy food. When he was 17 and first started having money himself, he paid for two family’s Thanksgiving dinners. The next year he fed for families and tried to double it every year. When he found real success he started buying Thanksgiving dinner for four million people every year for 12 years. When he received a five million dollar advance for his 2017 book called unshakeable your financial freedom playbook, he gave all the money to a charity called feeding America. He then asked the group how much it would cost to feed 100 million people and he says he wrote them a much bigger check to make that happen. He plans on feeding a billion people over the next 10 years. 7. During one day of his seminar Tony’s activity is the equivalent of running a marathon. Tony says that on his most intense day in his seminars his activity is the equivalent of running a marathon. He is very active during his seminars. Running and walking and interacting with the audience. He regularly does 27 miles in one day all while staying on stage and presenting his program. The activity does take a toll on his body but Tony says he uses cryotherapy to help his body recover. Cryotherapy involves getting into a machine for an intense several minutes. While your body is cooled with the use of liquid nitrogen to temperatures that are sometimes even colder than negative 200 °F. 8. Tony Robbins owns a mansion near Palm Beach Florida. Tony travels about 200 days a year. But the other days he comes home to a twenty four point seven five million dollar beachfront mansion in Palm Beach County. He looked at 88 properties in three states in just three weeks before purchasing the newly built home and he decided to move to Florida because they have no income tax. He stays in the first floor master suite and there are five additional bedrooms upstairs. Other features include an infinity pool. Nearly 200 feet of private beach a 50 foot boat dock and two acres of land. 9. Tony Robbins’ favorite music artist is Diddy. Tony thanks listening to music increases productivity and can provide motivation. He loves rap music and says he especially loves any song by Diddy. 10. Bill Clinton called him for advice before he was impeached. In 1998, Bill Clinton found himself in hot water when he lied about his relationship with Monica Lewinsky. While giving testimony in a sexual harassment lawsuit filed against him by Paula Jones, the night before he was impeached. Clinton reached out to Tony Robbins and asked for advice .Tony told Clinton to think about what he wanted his legacy to be and to choose his actions carefully because at the end of the day he had to be able to look himself in the face. 11. Tony Robbins declined to help Alex Rodriguez, a.k.a. A-Rod. Tony is approached by an untold number of people every year who want his help and advice one person who reached out to Tony was former Yankees baseball star Alex Rodriguez. Otherwise known as A-Rod. He called Tony while he was caught up with some controversy while he was still a part of the Yankees. But Tony said he simply didn't have the time to help him. 12. Tony Robbins owns a five-star resort in Fiji. Robbins's favorite place in the world is the Namale Resort and Spa in Fiji. He loves it so much that he bought it. The five-star all-inclusive Resort is where Tony hosts some of his life and wealth mastery seminars Oprah listed the resort as one of her favorite things in 2012. But you practically have to have Oprah’s deep pockets to stay there. A one night stay in June starts at 1145 dollars. 13. Tony Robbins first declined his role in SHALLOW HAL. Tony Robbins plays himself in the 2001 Farrelly Brothers movie Shallow Hal. But it took some convincing at first he declined the role because he wasn’t interested in acting. But when he received the script and saw the message of the movie was embracing inner beauty and not being a surface driven person he reconsidered. What really convinced him to do the movie was finding out that the writer of the script had purchased Tony’s personal power audio program often infomercial years prior. However Tony was not a fan of the lines written for him. So he asked if he could improvise. He said that when he smacked Jack Black on the head in a scene and said Devils come out that Jack had no idea was coming and the reaction on camera was real. 14. Tony Robbins bought a private jet in 2015. After years of flying commercial and chartering private jets Tony finally decided to buy his own. He bought a Bombardier Global Express XRS from Micky Arison, the owner of the Miami Heat and the Carnival Cruise Line for an estimated cost of 50 million dollars. 15. Tony Robbins met both of his wives at his seminars. He met his first wife Becky Jenkins at one of his seminars and they married in 1982. He adopted the three children she had from her to former marriages. While married, he had a child with a former girlfriend Eliza in 1984. Their son's name is Jarek and is now a motivational speaker as well. Tony Robbins divorced his first wife in 1996 and met his second wife Sage Humphrey in 1999 at another one of his seminars. The two were married in 2011. So, these were some interesting things and facts about Tony Robbins. Hope you liked it. Here’s a fun fact about Tony Robbins: Tony Robbins once said that if he could change one thing about himself he would make himself smaller so that he could fit into normal cars and clothes. Read the full article

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 5 years

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Uncle Donald gave her $800 in the 1980s

She let him invest it for her up until now

And she has now $45B

I hope you enjoyed your game as there are more to come but with more people as it enters TV for free of course on Channel Fox.

As always enjoy life and what it brings with the most care you can afford.

Don't let the economy, crumble, Uncle Donald, i hit up JP for some cash since Jesse stole mine from United Business Bank located in Oregon, Washington, and New Mexico.

I own Chase, bought it with Donald and sold to the US Government for a mint. Jesse could got in on this deal but he wanted to challenge me instead.

So I asked Uncle Donald for a cash loan, how much he could afford and what was in his wallet. $4000 roughly. So we split it between his 4 kids (the 4th being me) and I gave him back $200 for the rest of the day.

And we returned to the bank and I asked him how to deposit the money into Chase Manhattan because Denise had bought me clothes but I wanted to be a fashion designer and had altered them So she threw them all away in a rage of jealousy and heat.

Of course i started to cry so we went back across the street to McDonald's and we talked. He said "i have a surprise for you, lets get to the bank"

So we walked alllllll around the building, up and down and he talked to a man and got us inside all the back rooms. He said "i wanna buy it!" And he turned to me and asked "would you like to invest your $800 into my bank as an investor?"

I said "what about my clothes! She said i had to return the money or else i get none!"

"But who did she spend the money on?"

"Me and my brothers and and her!"

"Well don't you think Its time to invest in you and your fashion?" He asked for my $800 i had to pull from 4 different pockets and my sock as he taught me to split to beat pick pocketers. And handed it all. He handed me back $200 and I handed it back then he handed me a $5 from his breast pocket and t told me to keep it.

And began to walk to the counter to buy the bank.

I chased after him and put it in his left cost pocket and told him, 'well you know you bought me lunch so you keep it"

I pulled it from his pocket to produce proof I had already given it and he couldn't give it back and then stuffed it back in deep, all the way i nearly ripped his shoulder off for which I promptly apologized, jumped on the counter and rubbed his soreness off and jumped down.

And he started to cry a little bashful at first then a full sob. And I tried to console him and Robby appeared with a trailing line of toilet paper so his silk hanky wouldn't be soiled with snot.

He thanked him and became startled and asked if he wanted in on the investment.

Robby said, "i might but i need to talk to you, I belong to this boarding school ran by this might be soon white bigger as he calls himself, inspired by her and taken completely out of context"

"Michael Jackson" interjected our new found Uncle Donald. "Come let's sit"

We moved to the side of the spacious lobby to a small table accompanied by two plus club chairs.

He and i talked about how neat it would be to have chaise chairs in Chase bank.

"Well, her mom is abusive, mostly about money so i would like to take control of her stock with her permission"

"Yes! I do! And i will wanna get married!" I jumped with my fist in the air and pushed against the chair like a standing push up and stood

....

"Her sit. First I would like to talk to you as an investor. I am run by the boarding house and they teach us things like to steal and bring back to get 'rewards' much often things less than they are worth like a stick of gum for $2 when I can get a whole pack for 20 cents. Uh oh, here he comes"

"Im about to invest into this bank with these two kids you got something you wanna say to me?" Instead of waiting for a reply, uncle Donald got up and briskly walked to the counter, asking to return to a different room, promptly and away from Mr Jackson whom was still solidly black (he doesn't have vitaligo its just bleached).

And we entered a nearly empty office and he turned fiercely, angry even, "this will be your office where you will WORK"

...

"Its okay! We are still friends!" I climbed into the chair then up onto the desk "this is where I will sit"

"Well close your legs and sit like a lady, like this hand me your foot, no don't take off your shoe"

"Well I didn't want to ruin you! Your suit is NICE!!"

And he moved my foot and crossed my ankles and patted my knee and said "or you cross at here"

I took my ankle to my knee "no not like that, that's like a man. Knee to knee"

"Oh like this?" I squeezed my knees together

Robby laughed and Uncle Donald looked flustered

"Oh i know I know cross at my knees, you need to explain better!" I patted his shoulder. In the 80s it was okay to touch, at least for a child.

"I said that first!"

"Oh! I interrupt!"

"No apologize" Robby groaned

"I apologize for interrupting"

"For?" Asked Donald "you can't tell her that Because ---"

"No he could I get misinformation that way"

"Except when I'm being scolded and she knows the truth" said Robby.

Tune in next week for another Miss Adventure of one Wild Single Mom's Childhood!

I had 48 cents. Robby had put in 2500 front Hayes then 1500 each from Mark and Mike Andrews which he had not signed and they got rejected. Yet Jesse notified me of this, restricted my remote deposit privileges and now i am to notify the Sheriff of Hays County, Austin, Texas that the money is kept hidden in the tax and revenue accounts of his great county. And to open an investigation which he will pretend he did and then not. So i get his hush money as well as the other two and the $15B JP Dejoria stupidly just paid me because i Told Jesse to tell his father in law that Jesse is a stupid piece of shit which he didn't.

And of course I will invest in schools across the nation, installing playgrounds at any schools that do not have them, including intermediate, Jr high, middle, High and etc.. And may be finally lockers at least were I'm centrally located and/or where i want to be, namely at high schools at least.

Because that is what I want to do. Make people happy in the funniest ways possible.

And if there is any left I want to reinvest at the parks i originally invested in, initially, to make them better snd brighter, starting at the older to the newer.

I want the world to seem happier and brighter and in the case of schools at least around here once they hit 7th grade (middle school) they change schools to those that no longer have lockers or desks to put things in, 7 or more teachers to please instead of one or two they spend all day with, like a parent who gives love and kindness and retribution, they go through puberty which in itself is a chore. Then the kids riot. I've seen it in small schools and i know it happens in big ones. 20 in one week at the beginning of school less than a mile from my house where i can hear the school bell.

And so they need a place to sleep their weary heads like the shoulder of an old friend instead of weeping a soul they can no longer call their own.

The secrets i have included here broke my heart to where it actually stopped over and over.

Instead of asking what was wrong, Mr Moneybags Jesse sent me to the doctor alone. -.-

He could have provided me with what i needed like I provided and protected him from Ms Dejoria and Mark Hindberg, Afghanistan and Iraq, which I will no longer do.

He is the one that encouraged Michael Jackson to pickpocket the slaves he had created.

Yes Michael Jackson is Wacko, is Him and is burning in Hell because I killed him with my own pistol Jesse had stolen from a cop, altered and resold to himself at a cheaper price than the way over inflated price he created to create a deficit in his company to receive a refund from the US government's IRS Department in the amount of $8,000 instead of paying the $1M he owed.

I plead guilty before a judge and Uncle Donald, Mrs Katherine Jackson, the Anne my 4 year old daughter that Michael Jackson attempted to rape in front of me, as well as Robby, my true love and of course Sunny and Jesse James himself whom gave me the gun.

Then, before then President Barack Obama, i was exonerated and pardoned completely without the possibility of parole or any other misconceptions that would be included with self defense manslaughter.

This week total I have arrested a total of 19 men and women thanks to the CIA as an unpaid civilian.

That would guarantee me Presidentship of one really great country, now, wouldn't it?

Thanks. And not to be repeated: No more games. Only truth.

Until next time my fair weather friends!

Now! Let's grab the bookie!!! Snag! You're in jail. What did ya know, Mike Andrews, I knew all along that Mark Hindberg was FBI. Why didn't you think that?

Moving along, hi JP. How are you? No one cares. Good thing you trusted into your rapist daughter who was married to a true hero whom puts up with my shit even after we name him Mr Vomit cause I make him so scared he actually vomits like I did tonight (that's included. No more scare, only truth)

Oh yes, JP, you have already been arrested and so you know -- you have no guns with you, right? Alexis Dejoria is no rapist, she's actually an excellent FBI agent whom hates her dad and is included in any exonerations I may have to hand out butbat my leisurely pace, because she actually didn't rape anybody!

Also the US government will pay your wages as you did file a lawsuit this very week by signing up with Namus.gov like we all did.

She like me, was an unpaid civilian whom ran into luck. While she's smart, she's not smart like me. Thus she's the FBI vs me who is CIA and can work against the world in a millisecond as i usually do and have in Afghanistan and Iraq where i protected many NHRA members during their tours in the US Military while they served with Jesse James and my little brother and were even kidnapped thanks to Matt Hagan's temper tantrum and Jesse James refusal to listen to command. Eventually I saved them from that too in a day and 6 hours after leaving base. They were involuntary bound and gagged and beaten within 20 minutes of their capture. Within the next 20 when I was finally told of their status they were rescued by Tony Schumacher and his team.

And now i have saved the NHRA from being beaten and raped and tortured. My time to continue here at home is not wasted,

I love you all and thank you very much for listening...

And now i have something to say about Jesse since i made him puke from a lie via email Because he made me mad for being a Dick douchebag and not caring enough about me, not wrecking his motorcycle and then lying to make me feel bad and stupider than ever although I saw the wreck and my being a girl, up and President running, couldn't stop to rescue or assist a man on his feet whom had already picked up his bike after a wipe out and the trailer passed me up to show me he would assist because forgive those trespassers as we trespass ourselves and i care that he could really been hurt. That may be a fault of mine but it is called Grace and not salvation which is being my daughter reincarnated into a goat in Iraq to keep everyone safe because Jesse is a dumb dumb sometimes and Matt Hagan prefers truth over himself, sometimes. Like being in love with a goat of my daughter's soul, in Iraq. (I bet he fucked her, too. Bestiality freak. Not my business tho, nor yours. But still, let's laugh instead of poking fun at his misadventures. It is funny, yo!)

Jesse cared about the goat so much he listened to her over every one, even me. Because he believed she was closer to God where he needed to be..

I changed his life once in Alabama and several times then, over and over, any time that need be.

But finally for this one time he trusted somebody else and learned to love as much as he could, the soul inside of him.

So God bless to all of the two headed creatures we will see wandering around the backs of people at the NHRA in the future to come. Including even on me.

I'm Mrs Cougar cause of my fingernails and my desire to be with someone young to keep me fresh and Alive -- not by his blood byt by the life he gives me. And he will be Mr Snake the one who slithers up beside me only for love while I labor in the grass kicking myself for what i might have done but not for what i might have missed out on because I was there the whole time thinking and feeling and frolicking through the grass, same as me.

And of course my tattoo will be scary cause the world as I know it, very much can be.

And you can thank me for the past or you can think about the future and beyond!!!

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missanthamaree · 4 years

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2/2/20

So, I guess I’ll start this Blog/Journal with what’s been bothering me the absolute most. My son. He’s been having some struggles recently, been ongoing for about the last 3 years, maybe longer, but the last 3 years have been the absolute worst.

I was 19 when I had him. I wasn’t ready to be a mother, and I was too involved with his father and all his drama to really worry much about my sons needs. (it’s pathetic, I know, but I’m not going to act like I was the mom I am now, from the very beginning) So, I mostly let my mother parent him, tend to him, watch him, play with him, get up with him in the mornings, bathe him, all the things a mother should do. I did the bare minimum. I would only do anything for him when my mother wasn’t around, or when she would start bitching that I never did anything for him. My mother is a drug addict. She was a terrible parent to me and my brother. She was the “guilt parenting” type. I let this woman have most of the influence in the early years in my sons life, and it set the pace for what I’m dealing with in him now. I have no one to blame but myself, that much I know.

His father wasn’t really much help either. He was a drug addict himself, and a people pleaser. Whatever his friends wanted him to do, he did. Whatever the “girl of the moment” wanted him to do, he did. I’m not going to lie, we both played a part in the whole thing. We were terrible to each other, and having a child together didn’t change that. Getting married didn’t change that. We were young and dumb. So, when Konner was a little over 1 year old, I left him.

Eventually, I moved on, with my daughters’ father. That was it’s own mess of mistakes, but lets’ not talk about that, this isn’t about him. However, he was a decent father figure for Konner (when he was sober - see a pattern here?) He was around for like, 3 yearsish off and on (thinking about it, it doesn’t seem like a long time, but in my heart - I guess time is measured differently when it comes to the heart) Konner always fought with me about things, but overall, he was a decent boy. He did his chores without much fight. He kept his room cleanish. He did okay in school. Maybe if I put enough thought into it, this is around the time the issues became solidified. Maxx, my brother moved in with us for a while. Moms’ presence was still prominent. Me and Tyler fought most of the time in the last year or so. Then, his father died.

Lots of things contributed to us moving to Florida after Vance died, but we only spent a year there. Konner got to meet/spend time with his siblings, and get to know his dads side of the family. When we moved back to Indiana, I thought things were going pretty good. I got a home for us, just us, and had a good job so they had what they needed and some of what they wanted. Then, I got a boyfriend that didn’t like kids, and things went south again.

We tried Konner on medicines, he’s been on 6 different ones so far. He was admitted to an inpatient facility and he was gone over Thanksgiving one year. He cut off his eyelashes, he jumped out of his window saying he wanted to die but didn’t want to get dirty, etc. DCS gets called on me all the time from him going and saying things at school, or doing things like running away from the bus, or “strangling” himself with his backpack strap. He talks out-loud, not really even with any purpose but to hear himself speak, or for someone to hear him and ask him what’s up. He doesn’t like to have to talk to someone, cause when they start asking questions, he says he feels like he’s taking a test. He goes and tells people how I punish him.

I’m convinced he believes I’m a bad mom. I definitely used to be, but for half his life now, I’ve been trying my absolute hardest to just do anything I can think of to help him. Also, he struggles with a lot of the same things I struggle with. I haven’t figured out how to handle my own shit, how can I help him figure his things out?

We had a talk the other night about how he saved my life. When my father died I lost most of my will to live. When I was pregnant with him, I cut myself so deep, I scared the shit out of myself. I promised him I never would again. I told him that’s when I realized that he was my angel, sent to me because I needed to be a better version of myself. It just took me a while to get my shit together enough to apply that knowledge.

I am also teaching myself on the daily how to not be the parent that my parents were. I loved my father, but my parents weren’t parents either. they were young when they had me and they never had a wake up call that made them “good” parents. They were drug addicts, and had many friends they shouldn’t have had around their daughter. They had their own priorities, and it shows. I never needed for anything and had lots of toys and freedom, but I never was taught how to handle myself. What’s appropriate and what’s not. How to pay bills, file taxes, do laundry, wash dishes, clean house, be an adult. So every day I learn a new way to do something, and most days I learn that I’m doing everything wrong when it comes to Konner.

There’s so much going on with him, it’s hard to even pin down when it started, when it got worse, what exactly I can even do to help him at this point. I’m so lost, and so confused.

I guess I thought if I put all this out of my head that I would find some closure with some feelings and be able to move on into a better place of peace and be able to handle my son with the patience he deserves.

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bountyofbeads · 5 years

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Neil Armstrong’s Heirs Split Over a Lucrative Legacy https://www.nytimes.com/2019/07/27/us/neil-armstrong-heirs.html

Neil Armstrong is a 'NATIONAL TREASURE' and it's sad 😔 😢to know that his death could have been prevented, especially as we celebrate the 50th Aniversary of their historic Moon🌚 landing and walk on the 🌚Moon. And now the family division over many Neil Armstrong's belongings and mementos are being auctioned off to private buyers that we, our children or grandchildren, may never see again. I remember so vividly, as a child, watching to news coverage of that period and it remind me of a period AWE but also a time of UNCERTAINTY.

😢😭😭😭

‘Would Dad Approve?’ Neil Armstrong’s Heirs Divide Over a Lucrative Legacy

By Scott Shane, Sarah Kliff and Susanne Craig | Published July 27, 2019| New York Times | Posted July 27, 2019 |

Last fall, Neil Armstrong’s two sons began a round of media appearances to promote a venture that would make them millions of dollars: a series of auctions of about 3,000 mementos from their father’s moon mission and NASA career.

“One Giant Sale” was CNBC’s headline, playing on the astronaut’s famous line, as Mark and Rick Armstrong talked up the items — an American flag that had flown to the moon on Apollo 11; a flight suit their father had worn earlier in his career; and many possessions that had nothing to do with space, including Mr. Armstrong’s childhood teddy bear and a preschool report card he signed.

“You just hope that people get positive energy from these things,” Mark Armstrong told “CBS This Morning.” He told The New York Times they had “struggled with” what their father might think of the auctions. “Would Dad approve? Let’s see what positive things we can do with the proceeds,” he said.

The auctions would prove lucrative amid the rising wave of publicity leading up to the 50th anniversary of the moon landing this month: $16.7 million in sales to date. The Dallas auction house calls the memorabilia the Armstrong Family Collection, though it includes a small number of items from other sources, including the astronaut Buzz Aldrin. Another auction, the fourth, is set for November.

Those sales by the brothers, who also pursued a newly disclosed $6 million wrongful death settlement over their father’s medical care, have exposed deep differences among those who knew Neil Armstrong about his legacy — and what he would have wanted.

Some relatives, friends and archivists find the sales unseemly, citing the astronaut’s aversion to cashing in on his celebrity and flying career and the loss of historical objects to the public.

“I seriously doubt Neil would approve of selling off his artifacts and memorabilia,” said James R. Hansen, his biographer. “He never did any of that in his lifetime.”

The astronaut had stopped signing autographs in 1994, after he discovered that many of those requesting his signature were then selling them. His personal lawyer, Ross Wales, said his client resisted the idolatry focused on his signature and possessions in part because he considered himself only the frontman for a huge NASA enterprise.

“His feeling was that he was not special because he was the first person to walk on the moon, and that he wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for the thousands of people who worked on the mission,” Mr. Wales said.

By contrast with the astronaut’s sons, Carol Armstrong — his second wife, whom he married in 1994 after a divorce initiated by Janet Armstrong, Rick and Mark’s mother — is not known to have sold anything. Instead she has lent and donated a collection of memorabilia to the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum in Washington; such loans often convert to donations in an arrangement intended to avoid gift taxes. People who know her say she and her adult children, Andrew and Molly, believe her husband would have opposed the commerce in the trappings of his work and life. (Carol and her children declined to comment.)

Mark Armstrong said that the question of what’s best for posterity and what his father might have wanted is not so simple. He said that he and his brother had already donated to museums more than $500,000 in cash and artifacts worth about $1.4 million, and that they had lent items worth several million more.

But he said donations, which offer the donor tax benefits, do not guarantee public access. “Museums can choose to store items out of sight or unilaterally decide to sell them,” he said in an email forwarded by his wife.

As for his father, Mark said, “I think he would judge us not on whether we auctioned items or not, but rather what we do with the proceeds and how we conduct our lives. Dad said that he wanted to leave the world a better place than he found it. I intend to follow his example and teach my children to do the same.”

Mark and his wife, Wendy, said they were using auction proceeds to create an environmental nonprofit in honor of Mark’s parents, called Vantage Earth, that Wendy said would work “to preserve and protect the earth from the damage done to it by its own population — a concern raised by Neil upon looking back at the earth from the moon.”

Tensions are common in any family affected by divorce. When it is the family of the first human being to step onto the moon, with global fame and a large estate, relations get only more complicated.

After leaving NASA in 1971, Mr. Armstrong taught aerospace engineering at the University of Cincinnati, served on multiple corporate boards and accepted speaking fees, accumulating a fortune worth many millions. But he turned down many opportunities to make even more money, friends say.

At the time of his death, most of Mr. Armstrong’s assets, including the memorabilia, were left in a trust, the beneficiaries of which could not be determined by The Times. His sons may have received some items from their father through the trust, and they received other keepsakes when their mother died in 2018, according to Wendy Armstrong. The first auction was held five months later.

Strains between Mr. Armstrong’s first and second families came to a head after his death in 2012, at age 82, of complications after heart surgery. The Times reported this past week that Mercy Health-Fairfield Hospital, outside Cincinnati, had secretly paid the family $6 million to settle a claim that his treatment had been deficient. The family also sought changes in hospital protocols to prevent such deaths in the future.

Papers sent anonymously to The Times described how the removal of pacemaker wires installed during surgery had caused bleeding that could not be repaired quickly because no cardiac surgeon was on duty. The resulting loss of oxygen to Mr. Armstrong’s brain left him in a vegetative state; he died 11 days later after life support was withdrawn.

While there was some friction over when to remove life support, the real clash came later, over the medical malpractice claim, which the sons pushed for and Carol, his widow, declined to participate in.

“In the end, strong feelings ripped apart Neil’s loved ones over the hospital’s handling of Neil’s care,” said Mr. Hansen, who became close to the family while writing his 2005 Armstrong biography, “First Man.”

Mr. Hansen called the medical crisis “a terrible, traumatic situation” made worse by the fact that “Neil essentially had two distinct families that were not, if they ever had been able to before, thinking and feeling as one.”

Carol Armstrong, who knew her husband had considered the cardiologist a friend, “felt strongly that Neil would not have wanted her to sue the doctors or the hospital — he would not want anyone to take advantage of his name in such a way,” Mr. Hansen said.

Court records show Ms. Armstrong as receiving “zero — not participating,” by her own choice. Neither did her children, the astronaut’s stepchildren, seek any payment.

Mark Armstrong, a 56-year-old retired software engineer, and Rick, 62, a onetime animal trainer who has a software consulting business, got the bulk of the hospital’s payment, about $2.6 million apiece. Neil’s surviving brother and sister got $250,000 each, and the six children of Rick and Mark got $24,000 each.

One court filing in the case, by a lawyer arguing for a greater share for the grandchildren, discussed the uneasy equation between familial relations — even love — and cold cash. While acknowledging that Mr. Armstrong’s siblings might get a larger payment because “they loved him the longest, depended on him the most” and found his loss “most painful,” the lawyer, Bertha G. Helmick, wrote that the “opposite is equally true.”

“The minor grandchildren, having had the least time with Decedent, have suffered the greatest loss of time, attention, protection, advice, guidance, counsel and affection.”

The grandchildren, she wrote, “lost their universally beloved and revered grandfather, who could magically open any door, innocently pave ways into college admissions, and who would have always carried a de facto hero element to any school or athletic or workplace function.”

Rick and Mark Armstrong, represented by Mark’s wife, Wendy, a lawyer, got the settlement after threatening to announce their concerns about their father’s treatment at a gathering at Kennedy Space Center for the 45th anniversary of the moon shot.

The brothers would use the 50th anniversary this month for a different kind of leverage. They were far from the first to sell an astronaut’s possessions — Heritage Auctions in Dallas has sold such collections for 20 other astronauts and their families, said Greg Rohan, the company’s president. But none had the status of Neil Armstrong.

“This is really the holy grail,” Mr. Rohan said in a promotional video.

“Neil Armstrong holds a special place in the space history enthusiasts’ world,” said Robert Pearlman, editor of CollectSpace.com, a website devoted to space memorabilia.

The prices reflected that reverence. Items fetching the highest prices tended to be those that traveled with Mr. Armstrong to the moon, such as a rare gold medal that sold for $2.04 million this month — the highest price in the lot. The American flag that had flown aboard Apollo 11 got $275,000.

Personal items, from Mr. Armstrong’s own childhood and early years of parenting, also sold well. The teddy bear sold for $3,500. A letter that Mr. Armstrong wrote to the Easter bunny as a child, asking it to “please hide our baskets” and signed “Neil,” sold for $4,000. A postcard sent to his parents from Paris in 1962 (“Having a fine time and not working too hard,” it reads) went for $1,375. The preschool report card Mr. Armstrong signed for his son Mark went for $750.

Even Mr. Armstrong’s personal collection of magazines and vinyl records — most bearing no relation to his journey to space, such as his copies of The Family Handymanand Sports Illustrated — found buyers, mostly for $200 or less.

Many of the items sold at auction — ranging from photographs in his spacesuit to personal checks — included Mr. Armstrong’s handwriting and signature, though he’d been loath to see his autographs sold when he was alive.

“He went out of his way not to make his signature available,” said Mr. Wales, the lawyer, who worked for Mr. Armstrong for more than a decade. “He realized that, yes, there were young kids who just thought it was great to get an autograph, but there were young kids who had parents who went about taking their kids’ autographs and selling them. He just didn’t like to be made a fuss over.”

In 2005, Mr. Armstrong learned that a barber had sold his hair clippings to a memorabilia collector for $3,000. He directed Mr. Wales to propose that the barber either “return the hair to Mr. Armstrong” or “donate, to a charitable organization of his choice, an amount equal to the proceeds you realized on the sale of his hair.”

In a letter to the barber, Mr. Wales cited a 1998 Ohio law that bars the unauthorized use of someone’s persona for profit, either while they are that person is alive or for 100 years after his or her death. The astronaut John Glenn, also an Ohio native, had urged the state legislature to pass the law. Mr. Armstrong felt similarly, Mr. Wales said.

When the first auction approached last year, archivists at Purdue University, Mr. Armstrong’s alma mater, issued a mild public protest. In a letter to The Times, the archivists noted that Neil and Carol Armstrong had donated more than 400 boxes of his papers to Purdue, where they had been consulted by scholars and students; used to produce books, dissertations, films and exhibits; and included in a dozen courses.

“Auctioning off historical treasures into private hands at the expense of providing access to the public is problematic,” they wrote. “Archives exist to make the remnants of history accessible and long lasting so that current and future generations have access to them.”

Mr. Pearlman, of the space memorabilia site, who said he corresponded with Mr. Armstrong before his death, said he understood the mixed feelings about such auctions, despite his own avid interest in collecting.

“I understand those who frown upon selling these items,” he said. “But what do you do with them?” He said there was no perfect path for such an inheritance.

“I can’t say Neil would or wouldn’t have wanted these auctions to happen,” Mr. Pearlman said. “I can say I don’t think there’s a clear right or wrong here.”

#u.s. news #politics #us: news #international news #must reads #nasa #neil armstrong #space #international space station #space photography #world news #news #trending news #news headlines #latest news #global news

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igumdrop · 5 years

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:OO WELCOME EVERYONE!!

okay okay, I know what you guys are thinking -- Jaime, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?! HOW CAN YOU MAKE THE SUB-BLOG GO PUBLIC?!?! WHAT HAPPENED TO *THAT* LIST... THE *YOU KNOW WHAT* LIST...

and my response is... I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never had such a list.

okay, real talk though, I decided to let my sub-blog go public for multiple reasons:

♡ no one wants to enter a password that I change constantly

♡ most of what I say I would love to share with my regular viewers who can’t afford to sub, and this is my main source of updating you guys on a more personal basis for those who follow me more on social media and not my stream

♡ I’m incorporating a lot more sub-only things into the community, so I figured I could let one go!

we’ll see how it goes and if it does start to feel uncomfortable, we can always bring it back :) but there’s little to nothing that I can think of that would make this weird because I don’t overshare that much... I think... HAHA we’ll see

ANYWAYS, REALLY GOOD NEWS! for the past few months I’ve had a little team of subs working on our community Minecraft server! (SO MUCH THANKS TO GOLDEYE, WATTEHMS, MATTY, MAXWELL, BRADLEY, JOSTER <3) I’ll try to log on everyday and just have a habit of keeping it online. I think it’d be cute to be able to log onto something and see everyone in the same world!

if you’re a sub, please fill out the form that I linked in the discord! it’s also the same form you use to join the gummie gang stream team, and also for me to know what your discord usernames are (a lot of times when you guys message me, your discord username is different from your twitch and I have no idea LOL) there’s also a little response section where you can give me any suggestions you want! (stream ideas, sub emotes, etc) ~ HAVE FUN!

AND EVEENNNN MORE GOOD NEWS!!!

WE’LL BE ON FRONT PAGE OF TWITCH THIS THURSDAY!! WEEE!!

I’ll probably be doing a sit-down cooking stream into a mukbang :) TIME IS TO BE ANNOUNCED BUT IT SHOULD BE AROUND THE TIME FRAME OF 12PM - 2PM OR 2PM - 4PM! I’ll let you guys know as soon as possible on discord. I’ll also be streaming tomorrow/Tuesday and Wednesday so I’ll let you guys know on stream too!

OK THAT’S IT FOR ANNOUNCEMENTS!~ here are my own personal lil updates

BENJI HAS GROWN SOOO MUCH! okay not gonna lie, he was kinda dying for a bit during the winter, I don’t think he really did well in the cold... his leaves would fall off sometimes and yellow at the ends. I was getting really scared and to be honest I’m so attached to this god damn plant that it was taking a sad mental toll on me. LMFAO. WHY AM I LIKE THIS. anyway, I gave him some fertilizer and stayed consistent with him, watered him whenever I needed to and tried to keep him in warm yet sunny areas of my house. and YAY, SPRING ROLLS AROUND AND HE’S GROWN BIGGER THAN I HAVE EVER SEEN HIM GROW!!!

before (when I first got him) and now! I’m so proud... only I can write a paragraph raving about my pet plant... jeez it’ll be crazy once I get an actual cat or something...

there was a really busy week in march where I spent all my leftover time planning Aria’s birthday. it was honestly the cutest thing ever seeing all her friends get together and work on stuff for her. I remember being insanely tired during it but once I saw her reaction for her surprise party, my heart melted and I just told myself wow that was soooo worth it LOL. here’s some pictures from my end <3

we got these GIANT balloons that spelled out ARIA and it took forever to get into the car and out LMAO... excuse my janky no makeup face but it was so funny seeing us struggle so hard with the balloons T_T LOL

we spent hours late at night working on her scrapbook and baking stuff for her. I was working on strawberry cheesecake shoots and I remember cutting 10+ strawberries and thinking, “wow, it would suck if I dropped these,” and then guess what happened...

I dropped them lmao

anyways it turned out so wholesome and cute <3

I found the airbnb on this website called peerspace and when I saw it, it SCREAMED ARIA...

you’re welcome for me blessing your eyes

we seriously worked our *aesthetic* muscle for this because we knew aria would appreciate the heck out of it

OKAY ANYWAYS MOVING ON!! yesterday I went to h-mart and got a shit ton of groceries. and I realized it’s STRAWBERRY SEASON!!! there’s still a lot of stuff that I want to buy that isn’t available here though, so my mom tries to send me all that she can :D

I love her so much I miss her so much wahhh I can’t even talk about my parents because I’ll just start crying because I miss them so much ... ok also I was supposed to stream yesterday but I took a nap... and... didn’t... haha... jaimewhatswrongwithyou.exe.... here’s a post-nap selfie though...

I looked heckin janky but snow saved my ass

ANYWAY I spent the rest of the night just reading and I finished my monthly book read! here are my two recommendations for you guys :)

I absolutely love love love this book! it will really help if you’re an overthinker like me. tl;dr, it talks about the inside voice in your head that constantly battles with itself and refers to it as an “annoying roommate.” with consistent reading (a chapter or two before sleeping at night) it really helped me clear my mind and become super aware of how the voice in my head could be more harmful than helfpul. if you’re new to reading it is quite a bit to read though so if you want something easier then I suggest this:

gosh, my life became so simple when I read this book consistently. it basically shares four simple agreements that you should always be conscious of in life. this book just really helped me not take things as personally, to not make assumptions, and it just gave me a much more simple and clear perspective on things and issues. SUPER SUPER EASY TO READ!!! downfall is, it kinda talks about religion a lot at the end, which might make it uncomfortable for some of you guys. I couldn’t really enjoy the last bits of it that much because of that sole reason but it’s still a great read and taught me lots of fundamentals I never knew I needed for my own mindset :)

I went to LCS the day before yesterday and it was really fun because I brought a portable cut-out of scarra LMAOOOOOO the thread is really funny so you guys should go read it: https://twitter.com/iGumdrop/status/1114687260434124801

I also did my taxes yesterday (well I finished up what was left of it) during the games LOL and then I went to annie’s place afterwards because her mom is an accountant and she helped me file them. I’m soooo happy I got them over with because I feel so free now!

hm ok ending these are always hard because it always seem so abrupt, mainly because even my 200 WPM fingers get tired of typing. I guess all I have to say is, hello new readers of my sub-blog, I hope you enjoy your time here! and thank you so much to everybody who supports me. it really means the world to me and I never go one day without insanely appreciating you guys. this month I’ma hit you guys with that dudududuududud GOOD CONTENT! <3

and alas, a few of my favorite cute lil drawings this month from chibird~

(+ my community)

WELL, FAREWELL FRIENDS! TILL NEXT TIME <3

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