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rainecreatesstuff · 4 years

Text

A Well-Known Fact

Word Count: 8610

Warnings: Janus kinda freaks out when Roman gets mad, but... I think that’s about it? It’s sorta described as a panic attack so. Look out for that.

So, um, this was just an excuse to write Janus-centric fluff, umm.... enjoy?

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A well-known fact about Janus: he is cold-blooded. Or, at least, he thought it was well-known. Remus has known for quite some time, and he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. And whenever Janus was around the others in the Mindscape, he was always somewhere warm, be it under a blanket, by a fire, or near warmed up electronics.

He hadn’t considered that even the most observant of them would fail to observe this.

So now, here he was, trying to figure out how to explain it while Patton kept grabbing his hands, trying to warm them up.

“It really isn't a big deal, Patton. This is just the way I function.”

Patton frowned.

“Sorry kiddo, but no. Virgil runs cold, and he’s warmer than you. Have you been in the Imagination? Are you feeling okay?”

Janus sighed as Patton led him to the couch and threw a blanket over him.

“Yes, I have, and yes, I’m feeling fine. I’m not joking, this is literally how I function.”

Patton huffed.

“You are aware I’m cold-blooded, right?” Janus waved away the hot cocoa the other had made.

“I- what? What do you mean?”

Janus really didn’t want to have to explain this. In all honesty, it was a little embarrassing. He could handle the frightened glances at his scales and his eye, and his forked tongue and his lisp. They were part of his snakelike appearance, and he could easily shapeshift them away if he wanted to.

But his cold-bloodedness? That was something that he couldn’t change, that proved he was inhuman.

And of course it had to be Patton Dad Popstar Morality Sanders that he was explaining it to. He had nothing against Patton, however he was aware of the moral side’s squeamishness. Not only was he morality, but he was also Thomas’ emotions. And Janus was almost certain that the side that had screamed at cartoon spiders would find his inhumanity disturbing, or at the very least frightening.

“I don’t function the same as you, and the others. My body can’t regulate my temperature. I was in the Imagination today, and Roman and Remus tend to keep it cold and rainy during fall, so it makes sense that I’d be a little colder than usual.”

Patton didn’t seem frightened, just… startled.

“How does that work? We’re not real. Well, of course we’re real but… we don’t have like… physical bodies? So how do you get all cold n’ stuff?”

Janus shrugged.

“I don’t know. Just happens. I’ve gotten used to it after all these years. As long as I go under my heat lamp for a while every day during the fall and winter, I’m fine.”

Patron huffed.

“Well, that’s no good! You can’t be locked up in your room all the time just ‘cause you’re chilly!” Patton threw another throw blanket over him.

“When Roman gets back I’ll ask him to put a lamp in here, if that’s okay.” He smiled widely.

“Uh- yeah, um that’s-that’s fine.” Janus accepted the cocoa and snuggled into the blankets.

That had gone… well. Too well. Was he just pretending? Patton didn’t like lying, he knew that, but he’d seen him repress several times, so hiding discomfort was a strength of his.

Janus eyed him warily.

“You’re not… upset?”

Patton’s eyes widened.

“Oh, Jam, did you not tell me ‘cause you thought I’d be weird about it? Of course I’m not upset! When Virgil started hanging out with us we had to make a few adjustments to make him more comfy, and we’re more than willing to do the same for you!” Patton gripped one of Janus’ hands in his own, rubbing the back with his thumb.

“Oh. Uh, thanks.”

Patton grinned.

“Of course, kiddo! I was gonna make some cookies, do you wanna help decorate them once you’ve warmed up some?”

Janus felt a ‘no’ at the tip of his tongue, but then Patton looked up at him with his signature puppy eyes, and Janus couldn’t have said no if he’d tried.

“Yes, I’d love that.”

Patton squealed.

“Alrighty! I’ll go get them started then! Lemme know if you need anything!” He bounced up from the couch, planting a kiss on Janus’ head before skipping into the kitchen.

The next person he told was Roman. He’d been expecting it, as a request for a heat lamp would probably seem pretty odd.

Roman had come into the commons while Janus had been basking. Which, in all honesty, just meant he was lying under the heat lamp and playing on his phone while Patton cooked dinner. The prince had walked right over, sat beside him, and stayed there for a few minutes.

“Okay, I don’t get it.”

Janus rolled his eyes.

“Don’t get what?”

“Why you wanted this put in? It’s not really that great. Actually, it’s a little uncomfortable.” Roman moved to sit on the couch.

“What does it matter to you?” Janus hissed.

God damnit Patton was looking at him all disappointedly.

“Kiddo..”

Ughhhh not with that voice, he can’t do that, that’s unfair.

“Imcldbldd”

“What?”

“I’m cold blooded.”

Roman froze for a second.

“What the fuck, Jan?”

Patton kept a close eye on the two, sending a worried glance in Janus’ direction.

“It’s totally my fault, I obviously chose to be Deceit.”

“No, fuck, not like… I meant that I’ve literally dragged you into the cold, rainy imagination for adventures and you didn’t fucking say anything?” Roman looked furious.

Janus’ eyes widened. That’s what he was upset about? Not the fact that Janus, a master of deception and an embodiment of lies was literally cold blooded, but the fact that he’d never complained about it?

“Oh, please do act like you wouldn’t have flipped out if I’d told you before all of… this.”

Janus curled in on himself a little more.

“Before the Melding? Yeah. But it’s been cold out for weeks. And you’ve been into the Imagination like… every few days, and that’s just with me! I have no clue how many times Remus has dragged you out there!” Roman was back beside Janus again, and holy shit was he angry, he’s angry, hurt, he might hurt you-

Patton.

“Hey, Roman, kiddo, can you come help me over here?” Janus mimicked Patton’s voice, and placed in just right so it would bounce off the walls correctly.

Roman got up, his eyes still filled with fire.

“We are not done talking about this. As soon as I’m done helping him, I’m coming right back here.”

Janus took the chance to sink into his room and lock the door. Now that he’d slowed down, thought it through a bit, he regretted it. But… he was self-preservation. As good as Virgil was at keeping Thomas out of dangerous situations, Janus would always have a little bit of that fight or flight response built into him. He didn’t cause it, but, clearly, he responded to it, whether he liked it or not.

Knocking, now there was knocking at the door. He took a deep breath. Roman wouldn’t hurt him. He was safe around Roman.

He opened the door, and Roman pushed past him, sitting on his bed. Janus slowly moved to sit across from him.

“Okay, one, was there any particular reason you rushed out?” Roman looked concerned, now, but still so mad.

“You just… scared me.” Ugh, what was he doing?

It had been a rhetorical question, this was stupid. He was supposed to keep feelings like these ones hidden. It was what he’d decided on ages ago. What was he doing?

“I.. okay, one sec. No. I am not mad at you for being cold blooded. I am upset that you didn’t tell me before I brought you into situations that could’ve hurt you.” Roman set his hands on Janus’s arms, lightly rubbing them with his thumbs.

“It’s not life-threatening. Nor is it threatening at all. I just get a little… uncomfortable.”

Roman looked crestfallen.

“Jan, you of all sides should know that your safety and comfort is, and always will be more important than whatever adventure I go on, or whatever story I tell. I need you to tell me if something could put your health, physical or mental, at risk, okay?”

Janus felt like he was going to cry. Which was strange, as he hadn’t cried since they were little. He nodded softly, the lump in his throat stopping any words he might have said.

“C’mere,” Roman pulled him into a hug.

He squeezed tightly before pulling back, wiping a tear from Janus’ face.

“Roman, Janus! Dinner’s ready!” Patton called.

Roman lifted an eyebrow at Janus, to which he let out a small laugh and shook his head. Roman grinned, then stood up and offered Janus his hand.

“Thank you.” The words were thick and dripping with way more meaning than was required for a hand up, but, well…

It looked like Roman understood.

Next was Logan.

Logan had approached him and asked if it would be okay if he asked Janus a few questions. As much as Janus didn’t want the others dabbling in his business, Logan had seemed so excited, which was a rare occurrence as of lately. So he let himself be lead into Logan’s room, sitting on his bed as Logan took a seat at his desk.

“So, it has come to my attention that you are ectothermic?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I believe Roman used the term cold-blooded?” Logan grabbed a lemon yellow notebook from a drawer, along with a pen.

“Mm. Yes, that I am.”

Logan flipped the book open and began writing.

“Fascinating! It had not occurred to me that this was even possible, what with us being projections of light while being on the physical realm. Does it affect you while in the physical realm and the mental realm?” Logan’s eyes sparkled.

“Yes, and it carries over between the realms.” Janus supposed he should feel like Logan was invading but… something about Logan’s analytic speech patterns made it seem less invasive.

“Mm… and I believe Roman also mentioned the Imagination affecting you more than our rooms and commons?”

“No, it’s not that the Imagination affects me more, it’s that right now the twins have made a point of keeping the Imagination cold for fall.” Janus couldn’t help it if his voice turned a little bit exasperated.

“Ah, yes, that would make much more sense. Have you any idea why you’re ectothermic?” Logan continued carefully writing in his notebook.

“Remus said at one point it might be due to my animal being a snake, but I don’t think that’s it. The scales and tongue are simply my appearance.” Janus fidgeted with his gloves.

“So you cannot shapeshift it away?”

“Mm, no. I must say it is incredibly irritating impersonating you, or Patton for that matter. Your short sleeves are horribly uncomfortable.” He smirked, moving so he was sitting criss cross on the bed.

“Well, it is incredibly irritating being impersonated, so perhaps it makes up for itself.” Logan glared at Janus for a moment, and he returned it.

Janus started softly laughing.

“Don’t laugh over my intimidating glare, it makes it seem insincere.” Logan’s voice kept an edge, but his eyes were smiling.

“Of course, Oppy, I would never even think of it.” Janus purred.

“Oppy? As in, the Opportunity rover?” Logan raised an eyebrow at Janus.

“Yes, I heard you had quite an attachment to her.” Janus smiled.

“I- um, yes, I suppose I did enjoy gathering information on the rover. The team that worked on her-it- had some interesting experiences during its mission. It supposedly lasted 50 times longer than they expected it to, and-“ Logan paused.

“I apologize, that was not your reason for being here. I will refrain from… rambling.”

Janus frowned a little.

“I wouldn’t mind veering off topic. Besides, it’s not like I’ve got anything else to do.”

Logan paused, his face blank, as if he was rebooting.

“I… okay. May I ask another question?” Logan tapped his pen against his notebook.

Janus gestured for him to continue.

“While I do enjoy the topic of the Mars rovers, I am a little confused as to what resemblance you see between them and myself.”

Janus smiled.

“Well, for one thing, robots are your thing. I may not have been present during Thomas’ puppet fiasco, but I did catch wind that you changed your appearance to match a robot rather than a puppet.”

“Oh, it was a puppet. I had not had enough time to plan and create a robotic body for myself, so it was merely a puppet shaped like a robot.”

“Yes, yes, of course. But besides that, you do remind me of those excitable lab robots who are simultaneously amazingly intelligent, kind, and assholes.”

That startled a laugh out of Logan, to which Janus held back a grin.

“Ah, thank you, I’ll make sure to write that down.” Logan bit back a smile, closing his notebook and placing his pen in its holder.

“If you… wanted to, I would not object to learning more about the Mars rovers.” Janus coaxed Logan a little, smiling when he saw his eyes light up.

“Oh! Yes, of course! The Mars rovers, affectionately nicknamed the “Adventure twins,” Spirit and Opportunity, landed on Mars on January 3rd and 24th, 2004 on a 90-day long mission, but they both lived well beyond that time. Opportunity, specifically, spent 15 years on Mars, collecting data that has proved that Mars could have sustained microbial life.” Logan tapped his hands on his legs as he spoke.

Janus asked questions every now and again, and Logan answered with a small smile and a light in his eyes. It was great to see Logan ramble without caution, much like when they were kids.

When Logan had finished, he seemed to be in an even better mood than before. His hands continued tapping, and Janus could see him fighting back a smile.

“While I have you here, Janus,” Logan glanced to the side for a moment, then nodded his head and continued, “Patton and Roman wanted me to ask you if you would accompany us at “family movie night” this Friday. Do not feel inclined to participate, I understand if it would be too much, as you are not one for social events, but if you would like to come, the invitation is there.” He bit his lip gently as he ended, glancing up at Janus.

“While I would love to, I’m not sure everyone would be as comfortable as they would prefer to be if I were there.” Janus’ tone held a pinch of remorse.

“If you are referring to Virgil, we talked to him beforehand and he stated that he would not be opposed to you joining us.” Logan seemed to be bargaining in some small way.

Janus nearly laughed.

“I’ll consider it, then.” He stood up and smiled at Logan and watched as the teacher startled, turning away a bit.

“Yes, that is… satisfactory.”

“And Logan, do-“ Janus’ voice abruptly cut out.

“Janus? Are you alright?” Logan leapt to his feet, placing a hand on Janus’ arm.

“Ye-“ It didn’t hurt, oddly enough.

He just couldn’t speak? Realization flooded Logan’s eyes, and he led Janus out of his room and into the commons, sitting them down on the couch.

“Are you alright now? It seems my room began to cut off your… backwards speaking. As well as lying.” Logan kept his hands on Janus’ elbows.

“I’m fine.” Janus smirked as Logan’s eyes narrowed.

“Communicate a falsehood, please.”

“My my Logan, whatever has drawn you to the dark side?” Logan rolled his eyes affectionately at Janus’ teasing.

“Janus.”

“Fine. Mmm… You enjoy nearly all jelly brands, other than Crofter’s.” Logan levelled him with a glare, causing Janus to cackle.

“Why must you hurt me like this?” Logan asked, his face completely devoid of emotion.

Janus' laugh rang loud and clear, and Logan grinned, for just a moment. He let his hands move to Janus’, squeezing them gently.

“You must be more careful in the future; spending too long in my room could permanently alter your function.”

Janus lifted Logan’s hands to his mouth, kissing them gently.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, sweet Logic. I’m fine.”

Logan went pink, breaking eye contact with Janus.

“Well, caution will do no harm to anyone. Please tell me if you begin feeling different while in my room, okay? You would do the same in Patton or Virgil’s, would you not?”

“Of course. I’ll tell you in the future, promise.” Janus rubbed his thumbs over Logan’s hands.

Logan threw him one last glance, then sighed and nodded. He pulled his hands away, adjusting his glasses.

“I should return to my work. Thomas has a brainstorming session with Joan soon that I must prepare for.” Logan stood up, adjusting his tie.

“Have you bored of my company?” Janus smirked.

“Oh, shush,” Logan smiled back, pressing a soft kiss to Janus’ cheek. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

Janus let out some sort of squeak which Logan seemed to take as affirmation, as he returned to his room.

He should probably have felt a little irritated that Logan would do that and then run off but… when he blushed pretty like that? Janus couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Virgil had already known. Janus had told him long before the Melding, way back when Virgil had still ID’d as a “Dark Side.” He’d actually been the first person Janus had told.

They’d been about twelve, when Virgil had only been around for a short while. He’d walked into Janus’ room during one of Janus’ cold spells, when he’d had several blankets piled on him, and was shaking like a jackhammer.

Virgil had run in, asking what was wrong. Janus had, begrudgingly, explained what had happened, and Virgil had gone quiet. He’d lifted the blankets, sitting beside Janus and cuddling him as he warmed up. He’d been the one to suggest the heat lamp, and Janus would forever be in his debt for it.

Now, Janus sat on the floor with a heavy blanket draped over him as they watched Hercules. The four lovebirds were cuddling on the couch, Roman loudly belting out I Will Go the Distance. Patton was giggling, singing along to the parts he knew as Logan and Virgil watched on with endearment.

Janus couldn’t help but feel like a fifth wheel. Remus had decided not to join them that night, so Janus felt a bit invasive. Virgil continuously glanced over at him, as if ensuring that Janus wouldn’t ruin anything. The others also kept looking over to Janus, though it was decidedly for different reasons.

Patton seemed nervous, and Roman was trying to convince Janus to sing with him. Logan just seemed fond.

Janus tried his best to keep his attention on the movie, but it was hard when he continuously caught them looking at him out of the corner of his eye. At one point, Patton had gotten up to refill their popcorn, and had run a hand through Janus’ hair as he passed. Janus tried not to lean into it too obviously, but he’d practically purred at the gesture.

Virgil had glanced over to him, and Janus had caught his eye. He… he didn’t seem mad, or even upset. Just… nervous. It was the same way he looked before Thomas performed, or asked a cute boy out.

Janus and Virgil had at least been on talking terms for a while, so… what was that about?

The movie finished, and they voted on the next movie. Roman tried to rig the vote for Moana, but Janus immediately caught it and reversed the rig so it would favour Big Hero 6, Logan’s requested movie. Roman picked the paper from Janus’ hat and gawked as Janus snickered to himself on the floor. Virgil and Logan helped Roman move on from his mourning as Patton giggled and raised an eyebrow at Janus.

Janus shrugged, his signature gesture for “Yeah, I fucked with it, what can ya do?”

About halfway through the movie, Janus began to grow cold. As he noticed his shivering, he placed a gentle mirage over himself so the others wouldn’t notice. It wasn’t to the point where he was in any danger, barely any discomfort, and the movie would be over soon, so he could just leave his heat lamp on as he slept. Virgil frowned at him, and Janus froze.

There was no way he could see through the mirage. Janus had been very careful while placing it. Virgil, especially, shouldn’t have noticed it. As anxiety, mirages worked quite well on him.

“Hey. You’re cold. Come here.” Virgil spoke softly, but sternly.

Janus huffed.

“I’m fine. I simply forgot to bask earlier. I’ll survive until the movie’s done, I assure you.” Janus hugged his blanket a little closer.

“Don’t care. C’mere.”

Janus warily eyed Virgil, who moved over on the couch to make room for Janus between himself and Patton. He carefully made his way over, sitting down between the two of them and doing his best not to touch either of them too much. His efforts were immediately negated, as Patton cuddled up next to him as soon as he sat down.

He had to admit, it was very nice to be cuddling someone again. Especially Patton, who ran the warmest out of all of them.

Virgil also leaned into him, resting his head on Janus’ shoulder and turning his attention back to the movie. Janus slowly felt himself warming up as he grew more comfortable in the cuddle pile. Roman leaned over and took one of his hands, rubbing it with his thumb.

Janus felt like he was about to melt. Not literally, of course. He was quite comfortable in his position. No, he was going to melt as in there were so many warm, fuzzy feelings welled up inside him that he was sure they would start oozing out of him if he weren’t careful.

Virgil’s hands slipped around Janus’ waist, pulling him somehow even closer. Roman sighed happily as Virgil began softly purring, his eyes closed. The movie was nearly forgotten by all except Logan, who was completely fixated on it, muttering to himself quietly.

“What’re you thinking, Specs?”

Logan blinked, turning to Roman as he processed the question.

“My apologies, I didn't mean to interrupt the movie.”

“Mm, nope. No apologizing. What’s up?” Virgil blinked open an eye, glancing at Logan.

“I was merely wondering the logistics of the microbots in this movie. We have already achieved a high level of synchronization with drones, so creating a smaller version of said drones would not be incredibly difficult.

“The only problem I could see with them is the almost telepathic connection to them, though we have nearly created a program that can process and recreate images from the brain. So these bots are almost achievable right now.”

Roman whistled.

“Damn, wouldn’t that be cool? I mean there’s obviously the whole construction use, but imagine the special effects!” Roman grinned at Logan.

“I suppose that would be an adequate use for them. I imagine waves and particle effects would be much more easy to create with the bots.”

The two began bouncing ideas off of each other, debating the uses of microbots as Janus, Virgil and Patton watched on with fondness.

Virgil sighed happily. Janus fought the urge to kiss his forehead, and, wow, that’s back, that’s not good.

He must have looked sad, because Patton hugged him tighter and nuzzled his arm. Janus gave him a small, reassuring smile. Patton’s face turned stern, in a “we’re talking about this later” way. Janus wasn’t sure whether or not he should be worried.

Virgil’s breathing began to slow beside Janus, his face relaxing as he began softly purring again. Janus ran a hand through Virgil’s hair, laughing softly as he smiled in his sleep. Patton sighed happily, kissing Janus’ cheek before resting his head on Janus’ shoulder.

Roman caught Janus’ eye, and grinned.

“Aw, looks like you’ve hypnotized our dearest Emo and Pops.”

Janus smiled.

“Can’t say I’m upset.” He purred, continuing to play with Virgil’s hair.

Roman’s teasing smirk turned soft, and Logan wrapped his arms around Roman’s waist, sinking into him. Logan glanced up, and tiredly smiled up at Janus. Roman kissed Logan’s forehead, then reached for Janus’ hand and kissed it.

Janus felt a soft blush warming his face, and turned away slightly as Roman adjusted his hold on Janus’ hand, entwining their fingers.

“You wanna help me get them to bed?”

Logan frowned.

“I could’ve helped.”

Roman chuckled.

“I know, love, but you’re already half asleep yourself.”

“I am not. I’m completely awake.”

“Mhm, tell that to your eyelids.”

Logan huffed, then gently punched Roman’s shoulder and stood up.

“Asshat.”

Roman laughed.

“I’m serious. No kisses for you tonight.” Logan walked past Roman, over to Janus, and kissed his head.

“Babeee.” Roman reached out to Logan as he whined.

“Nope. Goodnight.” Logan smiled and went upstairs.

Janus chuckled as Roman pouted after him. Roman sighed.

“I’ll take Patton if you take Vee?”

Janus bit the inside of his cheek. If Virgil woke up, he’d probably be upset, but… he looked completely knocked out. And it would only take a minute, so…

“Sure.”

Roman stood, then lifted Patton off of Janus and into his arms.

“Night, Jan.”

“Night.”

Roman carried Patton upstairs. Janus sighed, then shifted Virgil off him gently so he could stand up. He picked up Virgil and began making his way to Virgil’s room. He was still surprised by how light Virgil was- Vee had always joked about it being because of his correlation with spiders, saying he didn’t have an endoskeleton. Well, he was pretty sure Virgil had been joking. Maybe he could ask Logan about it.

Janus arrived at Virgil’s door, which had luckily been left open, and slipped into the room, laying Virgil on his bed gently. He found Virgil’s make-up wipes and wiped off the eyeshadow that remained beneath his eyes, then stood to leave. Again, the urge to kiss Virgil’s forehead arose, and he indulged it this time, before turning to leave.

“Jan?”

Janus froze, and turned around to find Virgil staring up at him, his eyes alert and very awake. A chorus of ‘fuck’s ran through his head.

“Yeah?”

Virgil stayed silent for a moment, then spoke up, “Can you stay?”

Well, that wasn’t the response he’d been expecting. Maybe a “what the fuck,” or a “get out,” or perhaps even a “why.” But definitely not this.

Janus choked out a “yeah,” and walked back over to the bed. Virgil held the covers up for him, and he crawled under. Virgil cuddled up to his chest as Janus hesitantly laid his arm over Virgil’s waist.

“Why-“

“Shhhhh… in the morning, okay?” Virgil cut him off.

Janus swallowed nervously, but nodded. Virgil sighed and pulled Janus closer, his breathing steadying more with second. Eventually, soft snores came from his sleeping form. Janus rested his cheek against Virgil’s hair, and let out a breath.

He and Virgil hadn’t cuddled this much since… well before the Melding. It felt a little strange but… mostly it just felt safe. Like a warm cup of cocoa after a long day in the snow, or curling up in your favourite blanket after a hard day at work.

Janus let himself savour the moment, and silently prayed for whatever god was up there to let him fall asleep.

…

Well that’s a no.

Janus rolled his eyes. Of all nights, it had to be this one, huh?

Virgil twitched in his sleep, and Janus bit his lip. He knew Virgil was prone to nightmares, being Anxiety and all, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. He wondered if he would still…?

Janus moved his hand up to softly pet Virgil’s hair, and he seemed to calm down. Janus laughed quietly as Virgil resumed his purring.

Janus eventually noticed the gloves that still covered his hands, and groaned. That’s why he couldn’t sleep. Awful. He removed them, careful not to disturb Virgil, and placed them behind him on the nightstand. He continued playing with Virgil’s hair, until his eyelids grew heavy and his hands stopped moving. As the safety of sleep washed over him, he couldn’t remember being this happy in a long time.

“Virg- oh my goodness. Oh my goodness, Roman, you have to see this!”

“What’s wrong, Pa- oh my god. That’s adorable.”

“I know, right?! Do you think they’d be upset if I took a picture?”

“They might. Virgil doesn’t like photos without his eyeshadow on.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Aww Logan woulda loved seeing this though!”

“Heh, Specs would’ve gone so soft seeing this.”

Janus’ eyes slowly blinked open, the soft sunlight coming from the window flooding his vision.

“Oh shit they’re awake-“

“Language!”

“Go go go abort mission!”

The door slammed shut as Janus turned around, giggles ringing out from behind it. Even in his morning bleariness, Janus couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“Wha…?” Janus turned back around to see Virgil sitting up halfway, leaning on his elbow.

A knot twisted itself in Janus’ stomach, and his hands began shaking.

“Oh. Mornin.” Virgil mumbled, falling back onto the bed.

“Good morning.” Janus replied, sitting up.

He slipped his gloves back on, and began getting out of bed. Virgil reached over and grabbed his wrist before he was able to.

“Jan, what’s-“ He looked up at Janus, his eyes widening. “Fuck, you gotta get out of here.” Virgil suddenly sunk out, dragging Janus with him.

When he opened his eyes again, Janus was sitting on the couch in the commons. The scenario felt scarily familiar.

“Oh, I just love doing that immediately after waking up. It doesn’t feel weird at all.” Janus hissed.

“Dude, you had eyeshadow down to your nose. You’re welcome.” Virgil threw his hood up, then sank into the couch cushions.

Janus bit his lip.

“Thank you, I suppose.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Janus played with the hem of his gloves. They really should talk. Didn’t mean Janus had to initiate it. Even though he did. Because Virgil would be nervous about it, and they’d just continue skirting around everything.

“We should talk.” The words felt alien in Janus’ mouth.

Virgil groaned.

“Do we have to? I, like, just woke up, man.”

“You asked to talk about it in the morning.”

“It was like 2AM dude, you can't hold me at that.”

“I absolutely can and will.”

Patton and Roman appeared at the top of the stairs, giggling to themselves. They glanced down and saw Janus and Virgil on the couch, and got quiet. Patton met Janus’ eye and gave him a reassuring smile, before gently pulling Roman back upstairs.

“Let’s...o...ake...gan.” Was all Janus could make out.

Virgil groaned.

“What, did you get my boyfriends in on this too?”

Janus scoffed.

“Like I would use your boyfriends against you.”

“Oh, you absolutely would. Though you’ve been starting to use yourself against me too.”

“Oh, Virgil, who knew you could be so forward?” Janus smirked as Virgil shoved him.

“Like you haven’t been flirting with my boyfriends for the past three months.”

Janus bit his lip.

“Is that alright?”

Virgil finally looked over to him, his eyes wide.

“Uh, yeah, of course.”

Janus frowned.

“You sound like that should be obvious.”

Virgil stared at him, then started laughing. Janus fought down a smile.

“What?”

“Dude, seriously? Oh my god, I don’t know how to tell you this, but if I’m inviting you to cuddle with me and my boyfriends, I’m obviously fine with you flirting with us.” Virgil grinned.

Janus lifted an eyebrow.

“Oh? Us?”

Virgil turned red, and pulled on his hoodie strings a little.

“Nope. I’ll talk about whatever you want, but I am not dealing with that this early.” Virgil mumbled.

“Fine. But you do want to talk?”

Virgil bit his lip, and pulled his hoodie sleeves up.

“I mean, whatever. I don’t really care. But Patton wants me to talk to you and you said you wanted to talk so… whatever. You have to go first though.”

Janus nodded, and brought his legs up to sit cross-legged on the couch.

“Okay. We both know that we both suck at this, so laugh if you please, but know that I then will not hesitate to do the same.” Janus figured that was a good way to start.

It had gotten a small laugh out of Virgil, so it should be fine.

“I… acknowledge that the way I behaved, both prior to the Melding and for a short while after was unacceptable. I know I hurt you a lot, especially when we were young, and I apologize for that.” He paused for a moment.

This all felt so staged. Like he’d stolen it from some story and recited it. Saying it out loud made him feel the same way Patton felt when lying. Like a hurricane had replaced his stomach and the rest of his organs had to deal with the consequences.

“I know I may not be able to remedy it, but I would like to try. I’m working on being more honest and vulnerable, and I would really appreciate it if I had you helping me out with it.” Everything he’d ever known about speaking to people had apparently left his brain.

He wasn’t making eye contact, why the fuck wasn’t he making eye contact? His words were blunt and inelegant.

He finally brought himself to look up at Virgil again.

“Yeah, I mean… thanks, I guess. And uh… I’m… sorry, for kinda being a dick to you after you introduced yourself to Thomas. I know how weird and scary that is so… yeah.”

Janus huffed.

“It was well within your rights to, I wasn’t exactly the nicest either.” His hands gestured as he spoke.

“Yeah, but I did kinda egg the others on too.”

“Ehh, we’re all petty bitches sometimes. I get it.” That startled a sharp laugh out of Virgil, and Janus smiled.

“I’m glad to finally have another petty bitch around to help me out when Roman steals my eyeshadow.”

“Who says I won’t be helping him steal your eyeshadow? Honestly, sounds like fun.” Janus grinned as Virgil punched his arm.

“Asshat.”

“Your asshat.”

Virgil’s smile turned a little softer.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

He stood, then reached to help Janus up.

“Come help me give my boyfriend shit for eavesdropping.” Virgil grinned.

Janus heard a quiet “fUCK-“ come from the top of the staircase, followed by pounding footsteps. He smirked, grabbing Virgil’s arm.

“Gladly.”

They hadn’t spoken about everything, they hadn’t spoken much at all, but they didn’t need to, not right now. It was a healing process. The fact that there was now a reaching branch, a bridge built over their last one, was enough for now. They’d work through it bit by bit, and eventually they’d get there. Until then, Janus was happy to accept this new, but familiar friendship. And as he listened to Virgil and Roman teasing each other, he knew he’d be more than happy with it.

This had to be a dream, of some sorts. This couldn’t be real. Maybe Remus was playing a trick on him, or maybe he’d tricked himself, or something. But he definitely wasn’t in reality.

In the morning, after breakfast, Roman had asked him to come into the Imagination with him for a little while. There had been this beautiful little green clearing among the fall-covered trees, and when he stepped into it, it was as warm as a spring day. They’d sat on one of the rocks, and talked about Thomas’ most recent musical obsession. Roman had, at some point, turned on the soundtrack and convinced Janus to perform some of the duets with him.

Then Patton had requested his help with decorations for their upcoming Christmas celebration (upcoming, as in, in about a month), and Janus had helped with that for a while. Patton put on his favourite Christmas music, and they’d started doing some weird kind of swing dance in the empty family room. Patton had asked for his assistance in hanging mistletoe over the couch, and given him a peck on the cheek before dancing away.

Logan had popped in, and asked if Janus could help him with a schedule. They’d gone to Logan’s room, and Logan had run the schedule by Janus, thanking him when he pointed out any errors or impractical time usage. They’d ended up talking about the new year, how illogical and silly their traditions were. Logan had grumbled something about New Year’s resolutions, then begrudgingly showed Janus a memory of Thomas, him, Roman, Virgil, and Patton singing a silly song regarding them. Janus helped him plan some reasonable, yet still exciting resolutions in advance.

Virgil had knocked on the door, and asked to borrow him. He’d been planning presents for the other sides but wasn’t sure about them yet. Janus helped him sift through ideas, and gave him the little push needed to actually make the gifts. Virgil sat on his lap as he started making the most elaborate one (Roman’s), and Janus hooked his arms around Virgil’s torso so he could see to help Virgil with the details.

So, all in all, a wonderful day.

Now, Janus sat on the family room floor, with Virgil’s head in his lap and Roman leaning against his shoulder, with the coffee table moved up against the wall. Patton was sitting on the couch behind him, putting little braids in his hair, and Logan was curled up against Patton. Something was on the TV, but Janus wasn’t really paying attention. He, honestly, couldn’t remember being this happy his entire life.

And then Patton asked if it was okay if they talked about something.

Janus felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Surely, they weren’t upset with him, right? He couldn’t think of anything he could have done, at least recently, to upset them. Did they just… not want him around anymore? He’d been expecting it, at first, but he’d thought things had been going pretty well…

“What about?”

Patton gently nudged Logan, and the two moved to sit on the floor in front of Janus.

“So, Jan, we all know that the temperature has really fallen recently, and Christmas is coming up soon too…” Patton seemed to be fighting down a smile, like he’d heard the best joke and wanted to tell it to them.

Okay, so not anything to do with right now, but with Christmas. Maybe they needed his help with something? That seemed reasonable.

Virgil sat up, then walked over to the coffee table, grabbing a wrapped box from the shelf on the underside.

“We, uh, made a gift for you, but, we figured you’d like it before it got too cold out.” He sat down next to Janus, cross-legged, and passed him the gift.

Janus frowned, but began unwrapping it. Patton looked like he was about to burst with joy, and even Logan seemed cautiously excited.

He unwrapped it, setting the wrapping paper to the side, and found… A blanket?

“It’s a heated blanket,” Logan spoke up, “You can charge its battery, and it has a built-in heating pad. We figured you’d find it useful.”

Janus blinked, staring at the box.

“It also has lavender pouches in it, because Vee said you sometimes have trouble sleeping, and I figured it might help.” Roman looked up from his shoulder, smiling.

“So… do you like it?” Patton asked.

Janus remained quiet for another moment, as Patton’s grin slowly fell.

“I… this is… amazing.” Janus muttered.

“Are you sure? If you don’t like it, we can always get you something else, and-“

“Patton,” Janus interrupted, “I love it. Seriously. Thank you all, so much.”

Patton’s grin returned, and Virgil let out a sigh of relief from beside him.

“Hey, hey Jam, now, if you wanna, it’ll be easier for you to come into the Imagination!” Roman grinned, and Janus let out a happy laugh.

“Of course, I’d love to.” He placed a soft kiss on Roman’s forehead.

“In that case, would you like to join us there tonight? We were planning on star gazing, and we would enjoy your company.” Logan seemed somewhat flustered, like he’d rehearsed this.

“I do believe my schedule’s open tonight.” Janus smiled.

Patton squealed, and moved to hug Janus. Janus held him tightly, and waited for him to let go first. This all felt so amazingly weird. They’d planned out and worried about getting him a gift he’d like and use, and had absolutely nailed it.

“If you’ll excuse me, I must get to work on making sure the constellations will line up right.” Roman winked, and stood up, “Logan, I’m gonna steal your star charts, yeah?” Roman said, already halfway up the stairs.

“Oh, no you will not, I have them perfectly organized and you will not be messing them up!” Logan chased Roman upstairs, and Janus could hear Roman cackling evilly as he did.

Virgil smirked, and leaned back against Janus.

“Open the box, I think you’ll like it even more.” He muttered.

Janus gave him a quizzical look, but opened the box, and- wow.

It was a red, velvety blanket with yellow flowers embroidered around the edge. It had clearly been stitched together by Virgil, as his signature stitching style was along the edges. When he ran his hand along it, Janus could feel the heating pad in the middle, as well as the lavender pouches. It was like a little part of all of them had been sewn into the very cloth of the blanket. Janus felt his eyes tear up.

“Thank you guys, so much.” He choked out.

Patton kissed his cheek, and cuddled him close.

“Merry early Christmas, Janus!”

Then, Janus did something that was probably really stupid, and was probably going to get him yelled at by at least three people.

He let his hand find Patton’s chin, and tilted his head up to look at Janus.

“I really want to kiss you right now, but I won’t if you don’t want to.” He mumbled.

He heard Virgil gasp softly. Patton blinked up at him for a moment, silent, and Janus worried that he’d horribly miscalculated, before Patton grabbed the collar of Janus’ shirt and kissed him sweetly. When he pulled back, Patton had a huge grin on his face.

Patton began giggling to himself.

“What?” Janus asked breathlessly.

“Roman and Logan are gonna be so pissed I kissed you first!”

Virgil gasped.

“Language! Jeez, Pat, one kiss with a snake and you’re swearing all over the place.” Virgil teased.

Janus glanced between the two nervously.

“I feel like I’ve missed something.”

Virgil cackled.

“Well, you see, Patton, Roman, and Logan have all been trying to kiss you before the other two could. A sort of bet, if you will.”

Janus stared at him blankly for a moment, then began snickering.

“Oh, please tell me who you bet for, Virgil.”

“Are you kidding me? Obviously Patton. If you hadn’t initiated it, his puppy eyes woulda caught you off guard eventually.”

“Fair enough,” Janus grinned, “What was bet?”

“Well, Patton gets to do Logan’s nails, which I’m like 80% certain he’ll love, because of the clicking, and I get to dress Roman for a day.”

“Oh, I cannot wait to see that.” Janus purred.

“Despite what he says, Ro loves hoodies, so I’m sure it won’t bother him too much.” Patton shrugged, leaning against Janus again.

“It was more of a joke than anything.”

Janus nodded. Virgil wasn’t completely merciless- The most he’d make Roman do is wear some really emo makeup.

The three sat there peacefully for a little while, Virgil scrolling through his phone as Patton and Janus talked about the winter garden they’d been planning to put somewhere in the Imagination.

“Hey, Pat, what’re we doing for dinner?” Virgil asked.

Patton gasped.

“Oh! Lo sent me this recipe a few days ago for us to make our own pizzas instead of ordering them! I’ve really wanted to try it out!” Patton said as he scrolled through his phone.

He showed his phone to Janus, then Virgil.

“Sounds good, want some help with it?” Virgil glanced across Janus to Patton.

“Sure, kiddo! C’mon!” The two got up, and Patton offered Janus a hand up.

“You wanna help too?”

“Of course.” Janus smiled, accepting the hand up.

Roman led the way as they trampled through the undergrowth of the Imagination. Janus was already bundled up in his new blanket, which- as he’d predicted- was the perfect temperature. It seemed to have some sort of spell on it that kept it to whatever temperature he wanted at any given moment.

Eventually, the forest broke, and they found themselves standing in a field covered in little white flowers, with patches of asters sprinkled about. The moon shone brightly above them, covering the field in a soft glow as they found the large blanket Roman had laid out for them. They sat down, Patton running his fingers over the flowers that poked out over the edge of the blanket.

Logan sat down in Janus’ lap, taking Janus’ hands and fiddling with them.

“Roman, this is… beautiful. The flowers are even season-accurate.” Logan mumbled.

“Well, of course they are! I know my flowers very well, dearest nerd.” Roman stuck out his tongue at Logan.

“Oh Roman, when will you learn not to lie around me? You stole Logan’s book about North American flowers a week ago.” Janus purred.

Roman let out an offended gasp.

“Betrayed! Betrayed by my beloved! How will I go on?” He collapsed into Patton’s lap, sending Patton into a fit of giggles.

“Roman, for the last time, you need only ask to borrow my books, it’s not like I’m going to say no.” Logan softly berated him.

“Mmm… no thanks. It’s much more fun to steal them while Jan distracts you.”

Janus levelled Roman with a betrayed look as Logan gently slapped him in the chest.

“Two can play at that game, Snakespeare.” Roman winked.

“You two will be the death of me.” Logan mumbled amusedly.

Virgil grinned, falling onto his back.

“Lo, did you look at the stars yet?”

Logan looked up, and it was if a switch had been flipped. His eyes lit up, and his mouth laid slightly agape as his eyes flitted from constellation to constellation.

Janus watched with adoration as Logan stared at the sky. He could see now why Roman was so excited about this. Patton sighed happily, playing with Roman’s hair.

“Hey, Lo, what planet is that?”

“Oh, that would be Mercury. It is lucky we were delayed by several hours due to Roman passing out on the couch at midnight, or else we may not have seen it.”

“Wow, Logan, shady much?”

“Of course not. Anyways,” As Logan began info-dumping about Mercury, Janus paid as much attention as his sleep-deprived brain would let him.

They asked Logan questions about constellations, and stars, and he rattled off the answers excitedly while gesturing with his hands. Eventually, they ended up in a cuddle pile, with Logan in the middle, being cuddled by Janus on one side and Roman on the other. Virgil reached over Roman and Logan to hold Janus’ hand, and Patton was cuddling him from behind. It was, basically, perfect.

Logan had started interrupting his own sentences with yawns, and his eyes started drooping.

“M’kay, I think it’s about time we turned in.” Patton mumbled, sitting up.

Virgil yawned.

“What gave that away, the sun?”

Janus frowned, and looked up and, oh. Yep. The sun was rising. He got up, stretching, then helped Logan up. Both Logan and Patton were practically walking in their sleep. The only one who seemed energetic was Roman, who sighed disappointedly.

“I suppose we should get going.” He said.

He snapped, and the blanket they had been laying on folded itself into a square. He picked it up, and carried it in his arm as he took Virgil’s hand and began leading them back through the forest. Logan hung off of Janus’ arm, and Patton walked beside Janus sleepily, holding his hand loosely.

When they arrived home, Janus was practically carrying Logan. Patton had sleepily kissed everyone goodnight, including Janus, which had thrown Roman for a loop, then drifted off to his room. Janus dropped Logan off at his room, confident that he could get himself to bed, and went back into the family room to sit with Roman and Virgil.

Roman sat on the smaller section of the couch, and Virgil sat in the corner, with his legs stretched out to rest on Roman’s lap. Roman glanced up, and patted the spot beside him. Janus sat down next to him and leaned against him.

“So… you kissed Patton before me? That’s illegal.” Roman grinned.

“Oh, shush.” Janus smirked, and gently tilted Roman’s head, pressing a kiss to his lips.

Roman held his face gently, like he was scared Janus might crack if he was too rough. They pulled back, and Roman rested his forehead against Janus’ and dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Ew, get a room.” Virgil joked, poking Roman with his foot.

Roman just continued laughing. Janus tried to hold in his own laugh, but failed miserably.

“I have been desperately looking forward to this for literal months, oh my god, I’m so happy.” Roman grinned, and really, how was Janus expected to not kiss him again?

“I could get used to this.” Roman said breathlessly.

“Yeah?” Janus whispered.

“Definitely.”

Virgil snickered.

“Boo, get off the stage!”

Roman laughed, and launched himself at Virgil, covering his face in kisses.

“Stawwwppp, I’m tryna scroll through tumblr.”

Roman peppered more kisses on Virgil’s cheek.

“Nope. You are now forever trapped in Kisses Jail for your crimes.”

“What crimes?”

“Being a hypocrite.” Janus smirked.

“Wha- no, never have I ever gone all PDA-ish.” Virgil fought back a smile as he tried to push Roman off of him.

“Oh, please do pretend like you’ve never started making out with Patton in the kitchen, or Roman in the hallways, or Logan in the family room-“

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Virgil finally surrendered himself to Roman, who pressed a few victory kisses to Virgil’s face, then cuddled him.

Virgil gestured for Janus to sit with them, and Janus moved to rest his head on Virgil’s shoulder.

“So… I know we’ve never really had an actual real conversation about this, and we should probably talk about it with Lo and Pat too, but…” Roman paused, “I would really, really like to take you on a date. And later become your boyfriend, if you so wished.”

Janus stared at him for a probably worrying amount of time, but…

“Yes. Please. I’d- I would love that.” Janus stuttered out.

Roman reached across Virgil and took Janus’ hand, kissing it before adjusting his grip to hold in. Virgil leaned his cheek against Janus’ head, and smiled.

“And me. And almost definitely Patton and Logan. If you’ll have us.”

“Of course.” Janus grinned.

And if, in the morning, Patton found them cuddling on the couch and swooned, and if Janus spent the majority of his days cuddling his new boyfriends, and if they would sometimes use his need for heat to coerce him into affection, and if Janus occasionally spent the night sleeping in a cuddle pile on the couch, could you blame any of them?

After all, it is a well-known fact that Janus is cold-blooded.

———————————————————————————————————

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! :)

Taglist:

@girl-with-many-fandoms ~ @arodynamic-enby ~ @imma-potatoo ~ @canvas-the-florist

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thatsonemorbidcorvid · 3 years

Text

Arina and Nina used to only meet once a week - at activities organised for the care home where Nina lived. Now, Arina is applying to become Nina's guardian, giving the 27-year-old hope she might finally be able to leave the institution where she has lived her entire adult life.

For the past few months Nina Torgashova has been able to enjoy an independence that had always been out of reach for her - shopping, cooking and washing her own clothes.

Things that would be every-day life experiences for most 27-year-olds.

But not for Nina, who has always lived in institutions, and moved when she was 18 to what, in Russia, is called a psycho-neurological care home. When the pandemic hit, she was able to savour life outside the home, with a volunteer, Arina Muratova.

Nina recalls the moment she found out she was leaving.

"I never thought anyone would take me. I had thought: "Oh no, I am going to be stuck in the care home."

It was April 2020 and the Covid-19 pandemic forced Moscow into lockdown. As visits to Nina's institution were stopped, charities lobbied for volunteers to be allowed to take responsibility for some of the residents until they could start up again.

Arina, a market research expert who loves nail art and embroidery, offered to look after Nina.

But when the 27-year-old got a taste for the freedom she'd never had, she decided she didn't want to go back.

Her 31-year-old friend was faced with a life-changing decision.

Arina has been involved in voluntary work for a decade - starting with helping children with learning difficulties and their families. She then became involved in adult care, which is when she met Nina through a Russian charity called Life Route. The charity organises trips and classes for the residents of some Russian psycho-neurological care homes (known as PNIs).

Arina started volunteering in PNI 22 - where Nina was living with hundreds of other residents - about four years ago. The care home looks after adults with a wide range of disorders, thought to relate to both cognitive disabilities and mental illness of varying severity.

Arina and Nina got to know each other through the charity Life Route which organises camps for the care home residents

Nina's diagnosis remains confidential to everyone except her care home director. This is usually the case for those residents the state judges are unable to live independently. So neither she nor Arina know why she is in the home, but Arina is surprised that she is.

Although Nina struggles with literacy and maths, Arina says she is very capable.

"She is such a quick learner and is well-adapted in everyday living," she says.

Nina was admitted to a home for disabled children when she was very young, before transferring to the PNI at 18. It is not clear whether she was taken to the children's home by her parents or was forcibly removed from their care.

She says they visited her there once, but she was frightened and hid under the bed.

"They were drunks. I was afraid. They stank of alcohol," she says.

Arina says Nina always stood out during her visits with Life Route, taking an active role in the activities and trips organised by the charity

"Nina was a very active person at her care home," says Arina. "She took part in various creative activities: amateur dramatics, arts and crafts workshops. She took part in sporting competitions, too: she played darts, she played football. Football was something she really missed after leaving the home."

When the lockdown last spring made these visits impossible, Arina suggested Zoom calls with the residents instead. But from the start is was clear this wasn't going to work - the home's internet simply wasn't strong enough. Other charities helping other care homes in Moscow and St Petersburg were facing similar problem

So these charities pressured the authorities to allow some care home residents to be released for the lockdown.

"It was all arranged in a day, and the next day the person was out. I cannot imagine anything like this before the pandemic," says Life Route's director Ivan Rozhansky.

Nevertheless Arina admits she was nervous when she made the initial decision to look after Nina. She was counting on Nina's relative independence, given she needed to work from home.

"There was a certain calculation in taking Nina. I had a lot of work to do, even during the lockdown. I realised I had to live with someone who'd be able to occupy themselves - at least some the time. With Nina it was clear that I'd be able to say: 'Now I have to work for three hours but afterwards we can make lunch together!'"

But Nina's move into the flat the charity had given the pair to live in during lockdown did get off to a slightly rocky start.

"She had very few possessions with her, just a small rucksack. She looked lost. While I was signing papers brought by the care worker, she walked around the flat. She didn't look especially overjoyed, and I had been counting on that.

"When I saw Nina looking so lost, I wondered if this had been a good idea. It's one thing to ask a person in a text if they want to move, but it's quite different to actually move them."

But not long afterwards, Arina shared a selfie with the other volunteers of herself with a grinning Nina, arms raised in joy.

Not only did Nina start shopping for food and cooking for herself, Arina arranged for her to have a maths tutor - important now she was buying things on her own.

"It's not that Nina doesn't understand things. She just never needed maths before," Arina says.

Arina herself began helping Nina with her literacy - she could read and write, but slowly and with difficulty.

"I need to be able to read and write," says Nina. "To be able to cook for myself, to go to work. I do want to have a job.

"I could make and sell friendship bracelets. I asked Arina: 'Do you know anyone who might want one?' She asked her mum, her mum was quite keen. I said: 'I will sort this!' Her mum picked the colours, Arina showed me a photo [of the colours], and I started making it."

Arina says she wanted to make sure she gave Nina responsibility for herself, rather than always taking charge, even if this did not always go to plan.

She cites the example of Nina wanting to learn to draw. Arina found another volunteer who could teach her over Zoom, and explained to Nina that she should make sure she joined the lessons. But after a while she discovered Nina had been missing some sessions.

"I don't want to chase another grown-up and pester them," says Arina. "I felt this was the kind of responsibility Nina could sustain, and we had conflicts around it."

But on another occasion Arina wanted to be more involved in Nina's life than regulations allowed.

Nina had complained of a terrible stomach ache and was admitted to hospital for several days of tests. Arina was not allowed to stay with her because she was not a relative or guardian.

"Pleas, send Nina some reassuring messages," she texted to the volunteer group chat. "Poor thing's terrified, she is having a third blood test and is scared."

Thankfully there was nothing seriously wrong.

As the Moscow lockdown eased in June, the Life Route charity was faced with a challenge.

"It became obvious that those people our foundation took to the assisted living flats for the duration of the quarantine did not want to go back to the PNI," says Ivan Rozhansky, the charity's director.

These institutions have been a focus of concern for some time.

In early 2019, Russia's deputy prime minister Tatiana Golikova ordered an inspection of living conditions in 192 psycho-neurological care homes. A consumer watchdog, Rospotrebnadzor, discovered violations of health and safety and other regulations in around 80% of them.

In January of this year Russia's Ministry of Labour introduced a number of structural changes to the provision of care for those in PNIs, including a move to help social workers provide assistance for some people in private homes rather than in state institutions.

"Obviously, all these changes will not be realised immediately on January 1, 2021, but step-by-step the situation will be changing," Golikova said.

Maria Sisneva from the charity Stop PNI says the quality of life in Russian care homes is poor.

"At a PNI you will have 500-1,000 people living in close quarters, but with very different levels of ability, and different backgrounds, different needs. They live in extremely cramped conditions, at best they'd be two to a small room, often in corridors, in spaces similar to military barracks, isolated from the outside world. They barely have any real social experience."

The director of PNI 22, where Nina was living, is clear about the benefits of care homes, however.

"The main advantage of psycho-neurological homes is security," says Anton Kliuchev. "The residents are looked after by professionals, who know exactly how to help and support them, how to talk to them, how to take care of them."

Care homes for people with specialist needs and mental illness exist all over the world. But from the mid-20th Century in the US and some European countries, a process of deinstitutionalisation started, aimed at replacing long-stay closed facilities with care within the community. Yet, in Russia care homes are still the predominant model.

According to Russian government statistics, as of February 2020 there were more than 150,000 people living in PNIs.

Unlike many countries, Russia's assisted living provision is only in its infancy. National charities believe that if this alternative system were more established, many care home residents could leave their institutions.

"Right now the system in Russia is such that if a person is believed to be insufficiently independent by the state, there is nowhere for them to go apart from a PNI, or [for those with physical disabilities] an invalids' home," says Sisneva.

Life Route began to discuss how the assisted living arrangement could be made permanent for the nine people they rehoused during lockdown. The charity rented four apartments, including one for Nina to share with fellow care home residents Sergey and Ivan. Arina moved back to her own apartment, and began instead to spend one night a week at Nina's new accommodation on rotation with other volunteers.

But there was another hurdle.

The PNI can only release their residents' care permanently to Life Route if those people have what is termed "legal capacity" - in other words, the state considers them able to function independently in theory, even if in practice they are in a care home.

Nina does not have legal capacity - all decisions about her life are made for her by the director of her PNI. As Nina is so functionally able, it is not clear why this is, though experts say it can be simply a foible of the system. If, like Nina, someone has arrived from previous care such as a children's home, and has never been properly assessed, their legal status might never be challenged.

So Arina has applied to become Nina's guardian.

"One day it just sort of clicked. And I realised I had to do it."

If her request is granted, Arina will become responsible for every element of Nina's life - financial, practical, emotional and medical. As her guardian the PNI will finally share Nina's diagnosis with her.

The process won't be straightforward, she says, involving extensive financial, physical and psychological check-ups on Arina.

"Emotionally [the decision] wasn't easy either," says Arina. "But once I took Nina out of the care home, she became my responsibility."

This all-consuming obligation might explain why there are so few people who volunteer to become legal guardians in Russia.

While Arina waits to be granted Nina's guardianship, the PNI could demand that Nina - whose state benefits they are currently losing out on - return to them at any time.

Meanwhile, Arina says she is still working out the exact role she plays in Nina's life.

"I can never be Nina's mum. I will never be able to give her the childhood she deserved."

But she accepts that Nina sees her as much more than a friend. Nina expects her presence on all important errands: to the dentist, to get her ears pierced, to get registered at the local GP.

And these new responsibilities have come at a time when life has been tough for Arina in other ways.

"It wasn't just Nina who went through a big emotional change. I went through a lot emotionally, too - during this time my salary was cut; I have had complicated developments in my personal life."

But Arina says all this has brought them closer together.

"Once you have gone through all these experiences [alongside another person], it is hard to backpedal.

"I won't say I'm not anxious about it. I'm incredibly anxious. And there are certain people around me who freak me out even more. They keep asking me. 'Have you thought it through? It's for life!'

"I calm myself down by saying that we have a plan."

That plan is to work towards eventually restoring Nina's full legal capacity.

Nina needs to be deemed independent by the state if she ever wants to live alone or get a job.

Other than Arina, she has one other close relationship - with a man called Sasha, who she met in PNI 22, and who is now in assisted living in a different apartment. Nina regularly meets up with Sasha in the city, and is clearly fond of him. Arina is aware that Nina may want to eventually marry and she would need legal capacity for that too.

So Arina hopes Nina's tutoring will give her the option to be assessed at some point.

"Examiners look closely at a person's reading, writing and counting abilities," Arina has heard.

The process is not publicly available but anecdotal accounts suggest it can include everything from being expected to dance or sing a song, or even know the price of a loaf of bread.

Arina says they won't apply for Nina to take this test until she is as prepared as she can be.

In the meantime, Arina is involved in all the important moments of Nina's life.

"Maybe I'm just the type of person that is not afraid of responsibility. It is an unexpected - but actually a good thing - that has happened to me.

"I love her. There's not much to it. I love her very much."

My Friend from a Care Home is available to watch now on YouTube.

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adonis-koo · 4 years

Text

don’t call me angel

Note: a parting gift for the new year! I hope you all enjoy because snarky best friends Seokjin/MC is my new favorite trope 🥺

↳ Summary: Life as an assassin was never what it was supposed to be, filled with bloody knuckles and bruised skin, sleepless nights and empty tears spilled. Life was hell, but it looked like just a fracture of heaven when Seokjin was with you. Until he’s become distant, tense when you speak to others, different, but just enough for you to subtly notice.

↳ Genre: Assassin!AU, angst, fluff, smut, fwb(?)

↳ Word Count: 14k

↳ Pairing: Seokjin/Reader, Jimin/Reader

↳ Tags: MC and Seokjin act like an old married couple, so much banter, jealous!Seokjin, dirty talk, begging, MC cries during sex, breathplay, overstimulation, oral (female receiving), tongue fucking, vaginal fingering, sex toys, bondage, possession kink, spanking, did I mention begging? Begging kink? Penetrative sex, MC doesn’t like to sub but Seokjin turns her into a little bitch, angry sex, HEAVY degradation, edging, cumplay

Namjoon | Seokjin | Jungkook

The seat was cold, the good news was your ass had become numb at least an hour ago, regardless, the metal outdoor chair that had been seated in front of the cafe that was well past closing time was anything but comfortable. Your knuckles were nearly blue and you had kept your teeth from chattering. How the guards didn’t bother to ID check you at this hour was honestly god sent. One lonely girl, three in the morning, a silenced beretta strapped to your stomach that was concealed by the hoodie you wore.

You thought at least the weeb kitsune masks you had begged Seokjin to buy would’ve raised some suspicious if not their interest in harassing a young girl late at night. But alas, it was early morning, freezing and you could tell even with an AR-15 in hand they all would much rather be in bed asleep. Surely they would’ve seen your lip twitch in a scoff had it not been for the black medical mask: Sloppy.

No wonder this was like stealing candy from a baby when your target hired shitty club level security. Glancing back down at your phone your eyes flickered up once more to the figure across the narrow street, also seated on a bench, Seokjin never did like the cold either.

You couldn’t even finish typing before fumbling with your phone at the familiar sound of the silenced shot sound, pulling the pistol from its holster you had quickly rolled from your chair to kneel before firing two shots into the men who had hardly any time to witness their coworkers splattered like pancakes on a sunday morning onto the ground.

“Can you fucking wait five seconds!?” You snapped standing up as you pushed the safety back on your firearm, “You’re lucky we’re as well trained as we are.”

Seokjin who had been strolling across the road suddenly flung his arms up in the air, his face shielded by the- in his opinion- ridiculous kitsune mask and medical mask both. But you knew his expressions well enough by now to practically see the snarky, raised brow and incredulous look, “You were the one who wanted to take governors avenue! Seokjin it will be faster.”

Your lips curled in anger as you squinted at him from your skewed, darkened vision of your mask, this little shit was mocking you! “It was! Who the hell wants to fucking scale a cliff at three in the morning!? Not me!” You opened your mouth only to scowl as you twisted around to face the direction you had been slowly commuting.

Technically the more discreet route would’ve been cliffside but that was also under heavy regulation and Yoongi didn’t have enough clarence, or strings to pull to get you an entry card. Therefore scaling would’ve been your only option, but jesus fuck! Three in the morning, nearly negative ten degrees. It would the slowest pace, but safest.

But for fucks sake you killed people for a living who wanted to freeze their ass off cliffside when you had a direct path. It was the most risky and crawling with security but goddamn was it less cold between the buildings and a whole lot closer to your destination, so honestly? The choice was obvious to make, Seokjin just wanted to complain and gripe about not getting his way, to which you’d ignore or tell him to suck it up, like now.

“You know what? Whatever, the longer we stay here the more likely trucks will be on rotation, come on put the bodies in that alley way, snow will cover up the rest of the blood.” You were already dragging the meathead of the group into the narrow alley as Seokjin groaned, kicking at the fresh pile of snow before- most likely rolling his eyes and doing as told.

“Wouldn’t have to put a body in an alleyway if you did what we were supposed too.” Seokjin grumbled under his breath as he slumped the last body down next to it’s new grave for the next...hour at most? Your brain was constantly ticking in the future, that would be enough time...If everything went too plan.

“Oh shut up where’s the fun in that.” You slapped his back earning a grunt from him as you let out a breathy laugh, appearing out of the alley way as you made your way back up the street.

This villa was technically under curfew yet the guards on rotation really just didn’t seem to give a shit, most likely out of not getting paid enough and less loyalty to their boss then to their wives, it was the cars Yoongi said you’d have to watch out for. They were the higher rank and the ones that could track you down if things went from bad to worse.

The good news was that was the last hurdle of this night...well on the outside of the mansion, The lights were all on and you could hear the music blaring even from here, they’d surely be up all night in celebration, Wonho and his cronies at least. Everyone else...well they might get the hint the party was over when you took your leave.

Seokjin and you had parted ways as he made his way to the watch tower that overlooked your room, or well the vacant one you’d be scaling too. The mansion was a little more tricky, guards were suspicious at every rattle and noise they heard and the time slot for you to scale up five floors was going to be crunched.

“Any day now.” You sighed, leaning back against the brick wall, branches uncomfortably sticking and poking every end of your body as you did your best to not breath as any time you did the bushes would rattle, a thin layer of snow was nearly coating your whole body and you couldn’t feel your fingers anymore, “Seriously for fucks sake, what are you doing? Taking a piss off the tower? It’s fucking cold and the little paranoid freak won’t stop staring at my bush everytime I try to move.”

“Staring at your bush?” Seokjin’s voice crackled from your intercom as he tutted, sounding thoroughly unamused and you could almost see his snide lip curl, “You need to go back to languages class.” You only rolled your eyes as he continued, “I just set up camp and got rid of the bodies, you’re underneath your window right?”

You managed to get up against the building and set yourself down but two guards just wouldn’t leave the perimeter despite rotation, glancing up you could see the ledge of your room’s window even from the ground but there was no way you’d make it fifteen feet without a bullet in the ass, or potentially head, “Yeah but those two won’t leave, can you get them out of here?”

“No there’s two over on the east side that could see from the position they’re in, let me wire Yoongi and see if he can help. Just sit tight for now.” You let out a silent groan as you pressed back against the wall.

You couldn’t say you weren’t getting paid enough for this, because in most casing you definitely were but honestly? No amount of money was worth sitting in ass freezing snow waiting for god only knew how long just to get inside. You closed your eyes trying to imagine the inside of the mansion, Wonho was rich, he’d have heating, it would be warm, maybe you could even get a drink if you’re lucky.

You nearly jumped out of your seat at the sound of the two guards who had been on standby suddenly rushing over to the east as if something urgent had happened. Fuck you could only hope Kim hadn’t blown his cover, he was a careful guy, there was no way it was him. Hopefully, he should be in the building by now.

“Yoongi scrambled their gates lock system, you have five minutes before west guards make their way up.” You didn’t need to be told twice as you stood up, wasting no time to utilize the window seals for your climb. Had you not been awake for over seventeen hours this would’ve felt like a piece of cake.

Your arms were still strained however as you paused, groaning as you muttered, “Namjoon better have unlocked that fucking window.” Kim was supposed to prep your room before making his way down to scope out the main floor, he was never sloppy, but being tired, sleep deprived and the first phase of hunger setting in was really making you question your life choices. Or what little choice you were given at least.

“You know if you keep bitching they’re gonna see you.” Seokjin replied, suddenly snorting as he continued, “Actually, bet they will. I’ll finally be free from your constant whining and stubbornness.”

Clacking your tongue you pushed open the window before climbing through, sighing you collapsed on the ground, temporarily closing your eyes as you replied, “Maybe, but your life would be a hell of a lot less fun without me.”

“Well it will be if you don’t get your ass up, come on Y/n we don’t have all day. Some of us don’t get the luxury of going inside.” Seokjin complained as you rolled your eyes, standing up as you shut the window. Turning around you made your way for the closet, pushing the hood down and peeling off your facial wear.

“Boohoo, suck it up. This shouldn’t take longer than a half hour at most.” Stripping down you let your skin bask in the heated warmth of the indoors. Your blood was pulsing and throbbing at the drastic temperature change as you began to dig through the closet. You could only hope Wonho had already drank enough to not be entirely straight on his feet or else this was going to be a lot longer than you wanted.

This however, was a celebration after all, Wonho just successfully took down one of Rio’s biggest militias and long time overseas rival. Everyone would be drunk tonight, and if not they were well on their way.

“Wow you couldn’t even dress for the occasion,” Seokjin whistled low while tutting, as if in disappointment as you stood up straight, glaring over your shoulder at the window where he undoubtedly had the scope of his sniper aimed on your ass, only covered in a plain pair of black thermal underwear in hopes of keeping you warm. It did not.

“I’m here to lynch him Jin, not sleep with him.” You rolled your eyes as you pulled the dress from the closet, pulling it over your shoulders before tugging down the tight material that strapped against your body, your cleavage decently on display, hopefully enough to keep Wonho’s interest compared to all the other, more than likely attractive women to keep his attention. Kicking off your boots and peeling off your socks you could hear Seokjin scoff through the static, “Could’ve fooled me.”

You decided to ignore his comment as you slipped on the heels, you were already fairly tall as it was and if he couldn’t see you before he definitely would now given you were at the same height as a fully grown man, “Alright, I'm on my way to location, keep me updated if rotation for guards changes.”

“On it.”

Shoving your clothes into the bottom of the closet you firmly shut the door before making your way out of the room, the hallway was packed just as you assumed yet no one questioned you stepping out of the room, all to absorbed in their conversations, or the person they were lip locked with. Shuffling through the hallway you made your way to the elevator, the woman inside was almost completely wasted, knocking you to the back where the greasy older gentlemen stood with a slight drunken leer in his eyes while licking his lips at the sight of your breasts.

Grimacing you folded your arms as you ignored the packed, alcohol reeked scene, finally breathing relief at the ding of the door before exiting the elevator.

The main floor wasn’t much better, it had been completely trashed and bottles had littered the floor. Honestly it rivaled that of a much more expensive, and dangerous version of a frat house. Your eyes however weren’t trained on the floor anymore as you scoped the crowd, your eyes landing on the three piece clad blue suit and slicked, styled hair as you swooped in, strutting towards the figure before standing beside him with a hum, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“We were briefed on this in the same room Y/n.” Namjoon glanced at you as he rolled his eyes, ever the pragmatic, glancing at your figure before giving a small nod, “Good to see you didn’t bust your ass trying to get in.”

Your lips twisted into a scowl, you were never known for your scaling skills and maybe that was why you snubbed Seokjin’s idea of using cliffside to get in, regardless, you made it and that was what counted, crossing your arms you said, “And if I had, do you think you could get Wonho to swing the other way?”

To that he rolled his eyes once more. Namjoon and you...had a long history one that was naturally shared with Seokjin of course. He was the leader of your group...well...as much as he could be. Operations were rarely held as a full team but usually he’d always lead them when they were. You and Seokjin were the first two to be assembled onto the team, or the first to meet Namjoon at least. You had met him before when you were younger though, briefly.

Not only was Namjoon a good assault expert and spy but he was like the glue that kept everyone from killing each other. He had your respect and that was the highest honor someone could ever receive from you. He was an excellent leader.

“You are the most stale person I’ve ever met,” You muttered under your breath, his lack of banter however was always something that made you grumble, he was dry, pragmatic and could always be relied on to get the job done. But where was the jazz? Where was the spice? The drama? Talk about boring, “Is the target on sight?”

“Back corner of the room on the right. We have company.” Namjoon tutted, his tone of voice suddenly on edge making you stand up straighter, glancing around in search for what he meant. What you found however was the familiar sight of burgundy hair and a charismatic smile that could rival the sun.

Squinting your eyes slightly you felt confusion suddenly cloud your thoughts at the unexpected appearance of your interrogation expert, “What is Hoseok doing here?” You glanced at Namjoon curiously but his expression told you he was just as in the dark, and his brooding eyes let you know he was less than happy about it.

“Who knows,” His eyes flickered to the ground, his icy glare enough to freeze someone had he looked up, “Park loves keeping us in the dark.”

It was the truth, in all fairness. Park almost always used the whole team for an operation yet never told one another, just leaving you all in the dark as the puzzle pieces fell together. You supposed you didn’t have a reason to know why Hoseok was here, but a heads up would’ve been nice had things gone sideways.

This was how Park ran though, it’s what made his business, his elite group from potentially selling him out and turning on him. You can’t leak an operation if you don’t know who else is apart of it. He always had more than one motive for something like this. You knew he did, you just couldn’t figure out what.

You shrugged, glancing at Hoseok’s figure one last time before letting your eyes slowly flicker to Wonho, he was still cramped up in the corner with his friends and right hand man, all laughing and looking about as drunk as you had hoped. Good.

“Where’s your little protege at?” Your lips curled slightly as you quipped.

Namjoon couldn’t stop the snort from escaping his lips as he curved an eyebrow at you, flecks of amusement in his eyes, “Sitting at home probably beating the shit out of a punching bag. Made him sit this one out, it’s too important and I don’t think he has enough experience for something like infiltration yet.”

Humming you glanced back at your target, “Not a lot of faith there huh. He’s never gonna gain experience if you don’t let him.” It was ironic for you to be the one saying that given he hated your guts for an unbeknownst reason but you did feel for the kid. He had potential, he just needed to hone it, and maybe mature a little.

“Maybe when he doesn’t threaten to choke slam you anytime you’re in the same room.” Namjoon replied as you threw up your hands, you couldn’t help it. Well maybe you could, you were well known for instigating when someone was in a bad mood but still, you had to keep yourself on your toes somehow.

“Alright fair enough,” You surrendered with a sigh, “Let’s just get this over with, stand here any longer and Seokjin is gonna be up my ass about how he’s cold. You should head for rendezvous, I got things from here.”

Namjoon only nodded as he replied, “Copy. Good luck L/n.” With that Namjoon took a step back before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you alone as you subtly kept your eyes on your target as you began your trek over to his location. Lingering around the bar as you shifted your expression into a far more pleasant one. It took a few more minutes but you had caught Wonho’s eyes just as you had hoped, tossing him a shy smile as you glanced away.

It was almost too easy getting his attention, you had played this little game for only a few more minutes before you watched him abruptly dismiss his friends as he walked your way. You had to drop your gaze back to the floor the glass you held still completely full despite acting as if you were casually drinking.

“I don’t think we’ve ever met, the names Lee Wonho.” Wonho had smoothly introduced himself as he loosened his tie, his eyes not leaving your figure as you bashfully glanced up, resisting the urge to let your lips cave into a full blown smirk.

Rather you kept the seemingly innocent look on your eyes as you smiled sheepishly, “O-oh...I...I didn’t realize you were the owner of the estate, Choi Dahyun, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

It was like a fish and reel and Wonho was practically racing towards the dry land as he wolfishly grabbed your hand you had extended, pressing it to his lips as he smirked, “The pleasure is all mine.” You had to resist the urge to cringe as you smiled once more. Easing into conversation with possibly one of the biggest underworld leaders at the moment.

It took months to set this up, to get to this moment in time. Finally, you’d be able to rest once this was over. It was almost amusing to think about, Wonho was a man in his mid forties, a whole empire behind him that had been passed down to him by his grandfather, he dealt in mafia affairs, one of the biggest narcotic dealers on the blackmarket and his stock of stolen military weaponry was uncanny. And yet, he was about to meet his demise by a pretty face and a set of tits. The irony was something you’d revel in for days and something that would look shiny on your resume.

It was almost too easy getting Wonho up to your room, you had even kept your eyes peeled, feeling as if this was too easy. Did he know? You could feel the small sliver of paranoia in the back of your head. Did Wonho know who you were? Was this apart of his plan? You couldn’t help but wonder. At this point though, did you have a choice? It was now or never.

You nearly grimaced at the way Wonho’s lips practically sucked against yours, his teeth messily gnashing as you pulled him into the room. The door shutting behind him as he whirled you around pressing you into the wall.

What you didn’t expect as your airflow to suddenly be cut off with a gag, Wonho only pulled away enough to look at you, smug and sneering as he hummed, “Nice try but I know Park’s bitches when I see them.” You gave an ice cold smile as you winced at the squeeze of his hand on your neck, “Why did he send you huh? Were you looking for the storage of narcotics? The data we hacked from Jang? Or did you just wanna get your little panties wet with the best?”

You let out a squeezed scoff, “You think you’re some hot shit don’t you? Well let me tell you, trying to be mr badass and take me on by yourself was the worst thing your dick driven ego has done yet.”

“Uh Y/n we have a problem.” You could hear Seokjin on your intercom, “I’m seeing a big head count on the eastern end of the perimeter, I think the bodies from earlier might have been discovered, are you almost done with Wonho?”

You could hardly focus on his voice though when you were thrown across the room, wheezing as you were knocked against the dress, falling to the floor with a thud as your body ached in pain, “You underestimate me little girl. You think I’m the leader of the most powerful group on the planet? I’ve already crushed Yun’s little militia, next I’ll sweep Jang out from under his feet and when I’m done with him? I’ll fucking string Park on his ass for his little boy to watch. I could be god-”

You jolted at the bullet pierced through his head, blood splattering the ground and leaking from the now grotesque state of what was once left of the man-god Wonho, or so he proclaimed himself to be. Sitting still for a total of ten seconds before you finally spoke, “Thanks- but I really wanted that on my resume…”

“Can you be grateful for once in your life? Get dressed and fucking light the place up we need to go now. There’s a helio on sight and I think Wonho was storing a good portion of his army in the warehouse.”

Standing up you made quick work of your dress and heels before opening the closet and dressing in your outfit once more, your lips curled into a smile at the sight of the small bottle of gasoline Namjoon had left as a parting gift. Perfect.

Pulling the hoodie up you popped the lid off the bottle before splashing gasoline throughout the room, opening up the window you poured the rest down the wall, your nose wrinkling at the pheromone smell before quickly throwing the bottle over your shoulder and scaling the wall. You could hear yelling and gunshots in the distant causing your adrenaline to spike as you swore under your breath.

Pulling the lighter from your pocket you lit up the gasoline, the fiery path licking at its substance as it spread up the wall and into the room. Quickly you glanced each direction before hurrying back to the watch tower. What was the gunfire from? And furthermore you couldn’t hear the helio.

“I’m headed for rendezvous, you good?” You had quickly pushed yourself up against the wall. Holding your breath as the two guards hurried past towards the west side, what happened?

“Already halfway there, you better hurry up before I decide to leave you.” Seokjin tutted as you scoffed, was that a challenge? He knew you could never say no to that.

Getting to the plane was already difficult as it was, the place was crawling with guards and security and by the time your room had exploded the whole place was being evacuated. It was an absolute mess. But the large crowd of panicked civilians gave you a big out to escape through the crowd on the bright side.

You couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when you saw the plane, Seokjin leaned up against the set of stairs in place scrolling on his phone, “Did you hear about Hyuna trying to get into Jimin’s pants last night?”

Peeling both masks off as your hoodie knocked down you looked at him incredulously as you both stepped up into the plane, nodding at the guard who shut the door as you huffed, “We literally just finished killing one of Korea’s biggest crime lords and you’re fucking concerned about who Hyuna is sleeping with?”

“It’s a valid concern!” Seokjin replied indignantly, pushing his own hoodie off before throwing his masks onto the other couch, collapsing on the couch you both stood in front of as he groaned, “Should be for you too since Jimin is the one trying to get in your panties.”

You groaned at his words, sluggishly flopping down next to him. Seokjin had been incessant on bringing up the younger college boys crush on you the past three weeks and just as every other time you still didn’t understand what he was getting at. Your body involuntarily curling against his own as Seokjin pulled you close. His chin resting on your head as you dug your nose against his neck, “Shut up.”

Seokin only snorted, “You know I’m right.” You could only let out a yawn, ignoring his probing. The kind he did when something bugged him but he never wanted to outright say it. It had been like this since you had the unfortunate luck to garnering Jimin’s undying attention. You had never pried though as to why it bugged him. At least not until he got on your nerves.

Regardless, you were glad the day was finished. Wonho had finally been lynched and you would get the well deserved rest you had earned.

“Shoot her.”

Your heart was racing and it hurt to blink. When did things come to this? No… you always knew this would be the outcome. Everyday of your miserable existence was spent in preparation for this, all the blood that stained your hands, all the screams that would forever haunt your memories, you knew it would come to this. You just didn’t think you’d be on the losing side. If there was one thing you were never prepared for, it was him who’d pull the trigger on you.

“I said: shoot her.” He snarled, the gun aimed at your forehead had been shaking, god you remembered this so many times.

Glancing up weakly his expression was one you’d never forget, the way Seokjin’s eyes were blown out, his knuckle white from how harshly he gripped the gun, adrenaline in his own veins forcing it’s view into life as it shook. He looked horrified, as if living the horrors he’d dream of every night, “Shoot her Kim and you could go places. You’ve come so far, you’ve already killed so many...What’s one more?”

You swallowed thickly, fear shooting through your veins at the way Seokjin’s expression morphed, his fear suddenly dampening as if curious by his words, his eyes leaving yours as he turned his head ever so slightly, as if listening to his every word, “Seokjin jesus christ don’t listen to him. Please.”

“Do it. Pull the trigger Kim, just another faceless person to add to the body count.”

Fear twisted onto your face at the way he tightened his grip on the gun, slowly his lips curled into a smile, almost sneering down at you. Of course it would end like this. The way it was supposed to end, “Better luck next time L/n.”

The scream in your throat had ripped out as you shot up from the sprawled on position in bed, the wet substance of tears dripping down your cheeks despite the constant tremor in your body, your breath shaky as you ran a frantic hand in your hair. It was just a dream! It was just a dream! Seokjin would never do that to you. He never did.

You jumped at the sound of the door opening, a small whimpered sob escaping your lips at the sight of Seokin’s sleep ridden appearance, having heard the familiar cry through the walls as he sat down on the bed, wordless as you practically flew into his arms, a hiccup escaping your lips as you burrowed into the safety of his neck.

“Shhh, it was just a dream.” Seokjin hummed gently, lips pressing into your hair as you choked out a soft sob, “Was it the same one?” Wordlessly you nodded as you forced the ugly sob down your throat, tears silently treading down your cheeks as Seokjin laid you both down, his arms securely around you as he tucked you away against him.

Your tears slowly began to cease at the feeling of his hand stroking your back, occasionally tangling and playing with your hair as he continued to pepper your head with soft kisses soothingly, your heart rate had finally begun to slow down as Seokjin murmured, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” You spat out, your voice raspy, anger twisting in your veins despite your watery eyes, your hands had balled into fists against the white shirt he wore, “I hope he’s rotting in hell.” Seokjin only sighed, pulled away a little as he laid his head on the pillow you both shared.

His eyes had that soft gleam in them, the kind he’d only reserve for you in moments like this, when it was four in the morning and you’d have to be up soon for debrief, “You know I never intended on shooting you, right?”

Your eyes dropped to his chest as you felt his long fingers brush your near cold tears from your cheeks, “Yeah, but that doesn’t change the fact that he still tried to convince you too,” You were well aware of the bitter tone your voice held as you bit out, “Wish I could’ve been the one to kill him. I would’ve been a hell of a lot less merciful.” You snarled anger twisting in your eyes at the mental image, “He’d be begging for me to kill him.”

“Y/n…” Seokjin could feel a piece of his heart chip at the borderline insanity in your voice, the kind he and you both tiptoed on every day, you had been put through such a horrendous childhood, it amazed him Park hadn’t put you both in a mental ward yet, or at least in therapy, ”He’s dead.” Seokjin cupped your cheeks, his gaze penetrating your soul the way it always would in these late, dark hours, “You need to let it go. Holding on to this isn’t going to do anything for you.”

You felt your lips quiver, a small scoff escaping your mouth at your own patheticness, a new fresh stream of tears trickling down your cheeks as you murmured, “I wish I knew how.” You knew he was right, that you needed to let the resentment that had festered in your mind for your childhood, the horror you went through, you needed to let it all go. But how? Where could you begin? There was just so much. And it wasn’t like you could go to a regular therapist for this.

“Shhh.” Seokjin cooed softly, pulling you close to him as you let out another soft sob, curling against his warm body for safety.

The only person you would ever trust on this planet, you both had gotten on one another's nerves now more than anything. But Seokjin was all you had left in this world, you’d never let go of him, “Just try to fall back asleep, I’ll be here if you wake up.”

Your eyes were already falling heavy against your cheeks, the smell of strawberry body wash he insisted on using lulling you back to sleep, you’d be okay. You’d be okay as long as Seokjin was with you.

“So, rough night?” The boldness in your casual words, as if you hadn’t been sniffling and bawling your eyes out last night, was immense, if not annoying to everyone in the room, all dead eyes with a lack of sleep. You raised your brows at the silence you were met with at the oval dining table everyone sat at as you took a sip of the motor oil Yoongi considered coffee.

The only person who had been absent at the table was Taehyung- who had been getting cozy with a governor's wife in Peru, not out of actual interest for her. But for his job at seduction and information retrieval, he could undoubtedly have everyone their knee’s for him in the matter of ten seconds if he wanted. The power of being hot and knowing it.

Namjoon only sighed as he facepalmed, his protege though- the one with the permanent brooding scowl on his face ever since he laid eyes on you let his face screw into an even more sour look, as if that was even possible.

You couldn’t stop the snort from escaping your lips as your eyes met, “We’re not here for small talk.” Jungkook suddenly snarled at you, as if breathing the same air as you pissed him off. It probably did.

You whistled as you leaned back in your seat, thoroughly amused at the way he gritted his teeth and snarled like a rabid dog, “Aite damn. You don’t have to give me such a constipated look though- I mean seriously, you look like you’re about to bust the fattest shit since birth.” The gurgled choke came from Yoongi- the only person who could appreciate your dry yet somewhat cheeky sense of humor.

Jungkook suddenly stood up from his seat, slamming his hands on the table as he growled, everyone not bothering to intervene, as they all knew this was the only form of entertainment they’d ever get when you were all in the same room, “Is this some fucking game too you? Park has never called for all of us to be in the same fucking room. And all you can do is crack a joke?”

You clacked your tongue as you leaned back in your seat, such a hot head...Namjoon’s protege was something else. Not that you minded though, at least not completely, it meant you had someone to provoke meanwhile until Park could be benevolent enough and make time for you all, “He’s never called us together since you’ve been here,” Your eyes cut slightly and your words pointed, “This isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. Now get your panties out of a twist, me and Seokjin just lynched Wonho, whatever this is, can’t be more difficult than that.”

Jungkook was, the newest addition to the team by a little over a year. You didn’t know the details and furthermore you didn’t care.

As long as Namjoon trusted him you would as well, as you did trust his judgement. He was pragmatic and had a good read on people and if he thought Jungkook was worth taking in, then you’d imagine he had a good reason to believe so.

And the more you worked with Jungkook- against his will, you could understand why. He was a remarkable marksman and a hell of a shot, but he was also ill tempered, foul mouthed and had the maturity of an eleven year old boy, dare you mention it made sense given he was the youngest out of you all at the staggering infant age of 21.

Jungkook would have chipped a tooth at how hard he grinded his teeth together, glaring you down as if you’d explode upon contact, his childishness never ceased to amaze or amuse you, his sour expression almost made you laugh. Fortunately, it was a good thing you still had some self restraint left, being ever the observant and noticing the bulge in his pants you were almost eighty seven percent positive that was not a boner.

You didn’t think Jungkook would kill you, but you wouldn’t put it past him to take out a kneecap if you pushed enough buttons.

The doors, thankfully opened to the sight of Park Woojin, CEO and billionaire to one of the world's largest corporations, he was well known for his reserved yet charming nature and was almost always doing good works, funding for charities and such. He also just so happened to be your boss, the one who owned his own elite team of assassins and special unit for his every underworld need at the drop of a hat. He was untouchable. He was the devil in a three piece suit, walking in as if he had owned your lives.

It only served to make you angry that he did. Jungkook was a talented kid, he was smart and a good shot, you could commend him all day long- though never to his face as he didn’t need an ego the size of Park’s- but if there was one thing you couldn’t understand, it was why in gods name did he willingly sign his life away.

On long nights you and Seokjin often mused the question; why would he do something so stupid? It was different with the rest of you, you didn’t get a choice in doing this, being who you were, Park did own you, he owned all of you. And for Jungkook to just...sign the contract. You couldn’t wrap your head around the concept. He didn’t just sell his soul to the devil, he gave it to Park on a silver platter.

“Good you’re all here.” Park pulled the seat out at the end of the table as he sat down, everyone had quickly straightened in their seats…besides you, too tired and not enough of a will to live anymore as you stayed slumped in your seat with said cup of motor oil in hand, “I have places to be so I’ll make this quick. L/n and Kim have terminated Wonho Thursday early morning. I’ve only found out last night that they were actually in deal with Jang.”

His dark eyes suddenly pierced on you, “You said Wonho was planning on destroying them correct,” You gave a brief nod, “My thoughts are he was attempting to earn their trust and take them out from the inside. Jang refuses to believe that and is out for redemption at the moment. You’re all to keep a low profile for now. They don’t know I was the one who sent you and right now we’re under suspect. No one is going on any missions or operations until this is resolved, understood?”

Everyone gave a nod yet no one spoke a word making Park stand up as he nodded, “Good. You’re free to stay or go but make sure you’re discreet in public. Especially you Y/n, you were the one inside the mansion last seen with Wonho.”

You only yawned with a nod, not taking his words too serious. This wasn’t the first time this had happened either. And if Jang seriously thought his shotty guys could take you out he was an actual idiot. Or at least that’s what you told yourself because you honestly didn’t have the energy to care anymore. Briefly you noticed Jungkook seemed to tense and Namjoon had shot him a look making you and Seokjin both glance at one another, as if catching the same moment.

At least there would be something to gossip about later.

Most people assumed by your dry, snarky and cynical personality you were above mundane things such as gossip. They were wrong in every way possible. What could possibly be more fun than to laugh at others misfortune and continue to spread false information, you and Seokjin took delight in hearing about any sort of campus drama, teammate drama, anything you guys could get your filthy hands on for discussion.

Hoseok was the first to jump out of his seat with a groan as soon as Park shut the door to the room, “Could’ve just sent us a text. Thanks for lighting the whole fucking mansion on fire by the way.” He sent you a sharp smile, yet when you looked closely you could see the minor flecks of annoyance that could cloud any sunshine smile he gave.

You clacked your tongue as you shot him finger guns, ignoring his annoyance because in all honesty if he wanted to get pissy with someone then he should’ve mentioned it to Park in the five minutes you briefly saw him, “Not my fault Park didn’t let us know we’d have a little imp crawling up everyone's ass last night. And here I had hoped you got toasted with the rest of that place.”

Hoseok couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping his lips, though annoyed, he was also one of the few who didn’t mind you. Well, most of the team didn’t mind you honestly. Hoseok in particular enjoyed word spar with you and was possibly the only person who never took it personally, “I’m like a roach babydoll-”

“Gross and ridden with diseases?” You cringed, initially realizing where he was taking the sentence but unable to resist another potshot.

“Unkillable.” Hoseok sent a wink, he was about as much of a playboy as Taehyung was, in all honesty, but the fact that he had really likened himself to a roach was both, cringeworthy and ballsy at the same time.

Seokjin lifted his lip slightly in disgust as he scoffed, “Babydoll and roach don’t belong in the same sentence.” He stood up as well, stretching out with a yawn, his hair dusting over his bangs and his eyes just as tired as everyone else's yet you could notice he seemed tensed and a little annoyed for reasons unknown.

Hoseok only let the smile curve on his lips again, pushing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as he replied, “And Y/n would still jump in my bed if she went home with me.” You indignantly parted your lips to reply you most certainly would not. But then again...No words came out of your mouth as you considered, honestly, who were you to object to that?

“I...yeah okay fair enough.” You had come to terms with it, mutually agreeing that you would definitely sleep with him in such a scenario while watching Seokjin grit his teeth, looking at you sharply though you didn’t understand why.

Hoseok sent you a wink before exiting the room making you snicker, you were a shameless person, you wouldn’t lie and pretend like you were offended by his words when he was right.

Shrugging you stood up to join Seokjin as he rolled his eyes, choosing to say nothing though you could tell something snarky was on the tip of his tongue. You supposed you’d have to confront this new behavioral change eventually, just not right now when everyone was curiously eyeing you both.

“Y/n! It’s so good to see you!”

You froze at the angelic, sweet voice. All you wanted was a warm croissant roll and something sweet to drink. Was that too much to ask for anymore?

Coughing you whirled around to see the beautiful face of Park Jimin, his smile precious and sweet and eyes were practically sparkling at the sight of you. Why, why did he have to like the grungy, dead eyed kid that didn’t even go to college? You only hung around for the overly expensive coffee at this cutesy cafe.

You see, the problem wasn’t Jimin, well it was, but it really wasn’t because of him. He was the sweetest soul you had ever met and for some reason, had the most heart melting crush on you, except it was one sided.

Awkwardly, given he was your bosses son. If Park ever caught wind Jimin was associating with you, you were positive not even god could help you in that situation.

You still couldn’t see it. The fact that they were actually related. Jimin was nothing like his father, he was sweet and gentle, he’d probably cry if he ever had to hurt a fly, let alone a human.

And that was the saddest part.

Jimin wasn’t even aware of the empire he would soon inherit. The girl he had a crush on that he’d have to string up like a puppet and use for his benefit. You’d have to watch his father crush every ounce of innocence he had. The idea, actually hurt to think about.

You couldn’t help but wonder some days, if his smile would be the same after his father told him you were a slave assassin, that you had killed over hundreds of people and tortured plenty of others when Hoseok needed an extra hand, would he still like you when he saw the blood that stained your hands and the wrath in your veins?

Jimin, was the only person on the planet, that could possibly make you feel ashamed for who you were, what you did for a living. Jimin was like the sweet humanity you had been void of your whole life. You liked his presence, you genuinely could see yourself with him. Happy. But that was a reality you’d never indulge in. No this wasn’t a fairytale, and you weren’t going to act like there was a happy ending for you when there wasn’t.

“Don’t you have class?” You didn’t mean to come off as standoffish, but you could never fully get to know Jimin, at least comfortably. Furthermore, as much as you enjoyed his company you couldn’t help but wonder if Park knew about it already. About this, about his son’s interest in you. Was he waiting for the right moment? It was difficult to say but you didn’t want to risk it, you could toe the line with Park all day long but you knew when it was time to straighten up. The sooner you could shoo Jimin out the door the better.

Jimin raised his brows slightly, the soft tufts of honey blonde hair covering his forehead as he tilted his head in confusion, “It’s winter break Y/n. Are you busy…? I’m sorry if I interrupted something.”

You could almost feel invisible sweat bead down your neck as you gave a tense smile, “No of course not! I just uh…” You glanced away, unsure of how to tell him the truth, you were avoiding him like the plague in some false hope he’d get the hint and stop coming around, “Sorry, you know I’m not in college. I don’t know off weeks for shit.” You offered a weak, apologetic smile, accepting your fate that you’d just have to entertain him for a few minutes.

At least until Seokjin got tired of waiting for his french hot chocolate you were holding and you knew he got pissy if you took to long at the counter. Jimin only laughed softly, that pretty smile on his plump pink lips and his nose was red from the cold weather outside, “It’s okay, going to college isn’t for everyone. But that’s why I’m here, I…” He trailed off for a second and you could vaguely see the pink dusting his cheeks that couldn’t have been from the cold weather, “I noticed you haven’t been here in awhile. I was almost sad at the idea you were avoiding me…”

“Why would I avoid you?” You gave a strained laugh, forcing your mind to not list every single reason on the long list in your head, “I was just out of town visiting family. But uh- I’m back now. I have some time off from work too so it’s nice.”

Jimin’s eyes suddenly lit up, the way they always did when you brought up your personal life. It wasn’t a secret he was curious about you more then he should’ve been and you would always shut down questions that borderlined too close to the truth on who you were.

So to see you volunteering information like your job and family had Jimin obviously excited. You couldn’t help but mentally cringed at your lie. If only he knew you didn’t have a family and your job was far from artsy and cute like his major in photography.

“Oh? I’m glad to hear then! I sometimes get worried I mean...I know you have your roommate but I just can’t help but get worried if you get lonely, you can always call me you know.” Jimin gave a sweet smile causing you to shift in your spot, glancing away as you gave a cough, rubbing the back of your neck as you shrugged.

“I really am fine...think of me like the hermit on the mountaintop- besides me and Seokjin have known each other since we were kids, I’ll be dead before he crawls out of my ass,” You huffed making Jimin laugh once more, his eyes crinkled like little crescent moons and his whole being radiated nothing but warmth and gentleness.

“Y/n,” You jumped at the sound of the devil, Seokjin held your upperarm like his life depended on it making you wince as you shot him a look, “Hey Jimin!” He gave a tensed smile before leaning a little closer to you, “Y/n we’re supposed to head to the grocery store, do you have our drinks?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion at his tense tone, you never went with him to get groceries either…”Uh...yeah?” In your line of work you never openly questioned him in these moments before shooting Jimin an apologetic smile, “Sorry....See you around though.”

Jimin looked a little disappointed, his face falling slightly making your stomach sucker punch as his eyes flickered to Seokjin’s hand on you, “Oh...of course! I’ll see you later Y/n, take care.” You couldn’t even hear Jimin finish his sentence as Seokjin dragged you out of the cafe, your lips twisting into a snarl at his heavy manhandling.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You dug your feet into the ground as you glared at him, you were waiting for him to interrupt but he didn’t have to drag you out of the building! And what the hell kind of excuse was getting the groceries? You were supposed to stay in the cafe and enjoy your drink instead of staying outside in jack frost’s asshole.

Seokjin only dragged you along the street, gritting his teeth as his eyes flickered around, his voice low and stern as he snapped lowly, “Guy seven o’clock by the entrance hasn’t took his eyes off you since we entered the building. Call me paranoid but given what just happened I’m not risking it.”

“Oh for christ’s sake.” You dug your heels into the ground as you forced him to stop, groaning as you threw your arms up in the air, “No seriously what the fuck is your problem? I don’t give two shits about the guy who was checking out my ass from where I stood, guys can’t even breath in my direction without you getting all pissy anymore.”

Seokjin suddenly glared down at you his eyes darkening a little as he grabbed your arm, “Stop fucking shouting,” His growled with a low voice, “Let’s just get home you’re being delusional.”

Your lips parted in offense, brows shooting up as you scoffed. You could endure a lot, you could be called a frigid bitch when you turned down guys, you could be called a whore, a slut and everything else in between. But you would not stand for being called delusional when you knew damn well you were not.

“Delusional!?” You shouted purposely as he dragged you along the sidewalk, “I’m not the one who looks like something crawled up his ass and died just for talking to Jimin. You did the same shit yesterday morning at that meeting too! Just fucking admit you have a problem and tell me what it is!”

You nearly yelped as you were shoved into a back alley, your drink dropped and your back pressed into the cold brick wall and Seokjin towering over your as he shoved a hand over your mouth, You scowled while looking up at him as he mouthed for you to ‘shut the fuck up’. You could hear muffled talking and the distinct sound of a radio before crunching footsteps walking past, “Fuck I just saw her.” “Shut up and spread out she’s around somewhere.”

You swallowed keeping your heartbeat steady as Seokjin let go of your mouth, quietly grabbing your hand before you both began to further down the alleyway, “Are you done being a drama queen?” Seokjin grunted quietly, glancing at both ends before dragging you to the right and popping back out onto a main side street, you shouldn’t be too far from your apartment but you’d need to be careful if you didn’t want to be followed.

“This conversation isn’t over.” You snapped back quietly, letting Seokjin lead you to the safety of your shared home. The rest of the trip back was silent and most people glanced at you both like you were two delirious crackheads and to be fair you felt like one too with how much sneaking Seokjin made you both do.

Sighing you opened the door to the apartment walking inside as you tucked your tongue into your cheek, choosing to stay silent as Seokjin carefully shut the door before locking it, his eyes peeled on the small glass panel that revealed the outside world as you crossed your arms. Sighing he back away from the door as he stretched out, “At least we’re stocked up on food, those guys will probably be around for the next few days, which means no going outside.”

He gave you a pointed look as if having already forgotten what you had said while outside. Seokjin paused after a moment, noticing your lack of banter and complaint before honing in on your rarely serious expression.

Sure you looked dead most days, and most would assume you were always serious and both glaring at everyone, which was partially true. But most didn’t see your furrowed brows and lips pressed together as if focused on Seokjin’s figure alone, “Oh jesus christ…” Seokjin groaned as he turned around walking towards the kitchen as he ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t care who you choose to sleep with Y/n, it’s not that deep.”

Your lips twisted into a scowl as you followed behind him, glaring holes into those stupid broad shoulders of his. He could act like he didn’t care all he wanted but you knew something was up and obviously it needed to be addressed before it bled over into your work life, which could potentially be fatal for you or him, or possibly both of you, “Don’t feed me that line of bullshit Seokjin! You’ve been broody for the past month, whatever is bothering you just fucking tell me.”

Whipping around Seokjin’s eyes suddenly squinted into a glare as if warning you to drop the subject, his jaw beginning to clench as he growled lowly, “Who says I’m brooding? That’s you’re trope not mine. Drop it Y/n, when have you ever cared before?”

You suddenly stepped back at his venom like words, your jaw dropping before you felt anger shooting through your veins that heroin had nothing on as your fists suddenly bawled up. How dare he say that! After everything you both have been through? How dare he fucking act like he had the right to say that! “Where the fuck did you get that idea? Are you dead in the head?” You snarled, stepping closer into his bubble as you shoved at his chest, “We’ve been through over ten years of utter hell and you have the fucking nerve to say I don’t care!? I’ve done nothing but try to talk to you and you won’t stop bitching and acting like you’re fine when you obviously aren’t!”

“And when I said drop it you won’t fucking listen. You’re so stubborn you know that?” Seokjin snapped, suddenly stepping closer as he backed you against the wall, “You only bothered to ask because it fucking suited you in the moment- don’t you act like some saint- like you actually didn’t notice beforehand. You’re only asking because I took you away from your idiotic dream boat Park-fucking-Jimin.”

You couldn’t even believe the words you were hearing at the moment. You could admit he was right, you had noticed beforehand but you didn’t assume it was detremential, or that it was something he even wanted to talk about it. And fair enough, you should’ve asked anyways but seriously!? Bringing Jimin into this was such a low blow, “Do you ever hear yourself right now!? What does Jimin even have to do with this!? I’m fucking tired of being dragged away, glared at with snide comments anytime I interact with another male, so I’m sorry it just so happened to be with Jimin, and who the hell gave you the right to dicitate who I like and who I don’t huh?”

“Oh so you do like him?” Seokjin accused vehemently, anger burning in his eyes as he lunged down, caging you between his arms, his breath hot and nose close to brushing against yours, “Like him, when he doesn’t even know who the fuck you are? What you do for a living? That you’re his dad’s personal assassin at beckon call? I’ve known you my whole life, have had your back for fucking years Y/n, years. I know who you are and I don’t give shit- I never did. So why are you out daydreaming about shit that won’t happen? Can’t happen? I won’t fucking let you run off on some childish notion and get killed because of it okay!? You are all I have in this goddamn world and I’m not about to lose you!”

Your lips had been sealed shut and your pupils dilated as your head pressed back against the wall as you glanced at him, he...he what? It was quiet for a moment but Seokjin’s intense gaze didn’t falter, as if waiting for you to argue back. As if anticipating your resistment, yet it never came. Instead, you let out a snort, as if realizing what this was about and why your partner had to be a dramatic premadonna, “Are you seriously jealous? For real?”

You watched him part his lips several times like a fish out of water before snarling, “I’m not jealous! I’m just being your babysitter before you do something dumb.”

Clacking your lips you sighed exasperatedly, you should’ve known something like this was going to happen eventually, “I never said I liked Jimin, and where the hell did you get the idea I was gonna run off with him? Where? Do you honestly think I’d leave? I mean, seriously.”

Seokjin’s face was flushed now, looking both embarrassed but too angry to admit it as he clenched his jaw once more, his hands suddenly grabbing at your hips with a possessive squeeze he was well known for when he became insecure.

“You look at him like some doe eyed damsel in distress,” He growled, stepping closer, his hot breath against your ear stirring your body as you felt his hands slide to your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze.

“And I’m the delusional one,” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way warmth quickly spread between your legs, “Seokjin, we’re partners. We have and always will be. Maybe the idea is nice but you're right.” You let out a breathy moan at the feeling of his lips suddenly attaching to your neck, giving a nip at your skin in warning as if not evening wanting to hear about you liking the idea of being with Jimin, “You’re the only person I have left too dumbass, the only person I trust, you’re just as stuck with me as I am you.”

Seokjin immediately hauled you up against the wall, the muscles packed against his arms bulging against his white shirt as he held you up, tongue hot and lathing against your neck before letting his lips drag against the shell of your ear, “Never said I was complaining dipshit. Im gonna fuck you in every single room tonight,” You’re lips quivered with a quiet moan at his hips thrusting into yours, his thick hardened cock restrained in his jeans brushing against your thigh, “Make you forget everything except my name.”

“God you’re so possessive.” You sighed as he kept hold of you, moving you to the counter to set you down before grabbing at the hem of your shirt, peeling it up as his lips moved down your neck. You could feel a brief smile on Seokjin’s lips, as if knowing you were right, yet not bothering to apologize. It was okay, you didn’t want one anyways.

When you knew him your whole life, it was easy to say this wasn’t the first time this had happened, whether it was him or you. Sleeping together was both convenient and safe. You trusted one another more than anyone else, it made sense you’d keep one another satisfied sexually.

Seokjin made quick work of your bra before attaching his plump lips to your right bud making you let out a louder moan, his hips slotting between your thighs as you squirmed beneath him, your cunt already sticky and clinging to your panties, “Mmm fuck, you like it though, I know you do. Always moaning like a little bitch when I say you’re mine.” Seokjin gave a cocky smirk as he squeezed on your left breast before sucking against your right bud again, your breathy laugh mixed with another moan.

He was right, you did think it was hot, there was nothing like angry rough sex at three in the morning, rough whispered words saying who you belonged too while the bed rocked into the wall, “Well if you’d just fucking admit you’re jealous this wouldn’t happen.” You wheezed at the feeling of his hand wrapping around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you gag at the expense of your airflow, “You know choking me is a good way to get a roundhouse kick in the gut. It activates my fight or flight response.”

Seokjin glanced up at you, his eyes lidded and smug as he dragged his tongue down your stomach, edging against the hem of your pants as he loosened his grip on your neck, “Can you not be sexy for five minutes?”

“Impossible.” You sighed dramatically as you leaned your head uncomfortably against the cabinet that held all of your mugs, acting as if this was an everyday topic rather than him about to eat the soul from your pussy, “We aren’t newly weds Seokjin, is foreplay really that necessary?”

Seokjin scoffed between your thighs, popping the button on your pants and unzipping them before curling his hands beneath the material as he peeled them off along with your panties. The cold air of the apartment was enough to make your soaked cunt all the more excited.

It had been too long since Seokjin had properly fucked you and your body was ready to wither beneath him, covered in sweat and cum from round after round of sex, “It isn’t when you’re that easy to make wet, look at that cunt,” He licked his lips, grabbing your thighs as he put them over his shoulders as he leaned down, a small whimper leaving your lips as your pussy lips spread and your wet cunt on display as he licked along your inner thigh, “So fucking wet and we haven’t even gotten started yet.”

Your lips twitched in annoyance at him as you replied, “Well if someone wasn’t so picky about where we had sex this woul-Oh!” You let out a high pitched moan as Seokjin wrapped those damn plump lips around your sensitive clit, having not been touched in over two weeks making your eyes snap shut at such intense attention, “Oh fuck…” You moaned softly as your hands tangled in his fluffy tufts of black hair.

“Yeah that’s what I thought,” Seokjin hummed before letting his tongue drag back against your clit once more, your hips eagerly rolling along his tongue as you felt his hand follow up your thigh until his fingers began to tease your entrance, “Mmm fuckin’ mine, bet Jimin wishes he was buried in this little cunt right now.”

You couldn’t even properly respond as Seokjin pushed a finger inside you, your walls clenching as his tongue lathed against the sweet spot of your swollen clit making you yelp as you kicked against his back, “F-fuck, Jin.”

Pleasure was rapidly spiking through your body and it was nearly pathetic how quick Seokjin could make you cum when he wanted too. Pushing another finger inside you he curled his fingers into that spongy little spot that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your back arching in probably an unflattering way as you whined, “Beg for it,” Seokjin lazily demanded, as if he could suck on your pretty clit all day, and if challenged, he probably would, “Fuckin’ beg for it.”

“You’re such an assh-Oh! Fuck please! Please jesus christ Jin please!” You whined at the way he harshly sucked your clit to get you to shut up, his fingers digging into your g-spot making your walls rapidly clench and convulse around his fingers, your orgasm as close as your hands tugged against his hair, “Mmm! Shit please, let me cum all over your face please.”

Seokjin let his tongue slip past his lips as he continued lathing against your clit, eyes focused on your fucked out expression as you clenched around him nearly screaming at the way your orgasm hit you all at once, walls squelching around his fingers as they were coated in your cum. Seokjin expertly helped you come down from your hazey high as your thighs began to tremble, pulling his fingers from you as he stood up, licking his lips smug as he demanded, “Suck.”

With quivering lips you parted them obediently as Seokjin pushed them into your mouth, sucking the salty thick substance from his slim fingers as he gleamed down at you proudly, “Bet he jerks his little dick to the idea of you sucking on his fingers too.”

Popping his fingers from your mouth you huffed, running a hand through your hair before clacking your tongue, “How many times do I have to say I don’t like Jimin.” It seemed that was the wrong wording though as any mention of Jimin’s name from you had Seokjin curving a brow, picking you up by the thighs Seokjin had lead you down the hall as he nipped against your neck, “Stop saying his fucking name.”

You were dropped at the head of the bed, subjected to watch Seokjin pulled his shirt over his head to reveal the godlike body beneath, there were more than plenty of scars and bruises, a few nicks here and there but his muscles were chiseled and toned from his years spent as an assassin. You’d kiss every scar on his body if he’d let you, “I’m not saying anything, I’m just saying Jimin- oh shit.”

You swallowed when he opened the nightstand drawer to grab the handcuffs that had been conveniently left there from the last time you both had slept together, his tongue tucked into his cheek as he raised his brows, your cunt dripping in arousal and cum at the way he always looked so hot when he was pissed, “Oh shit is right you little brat.”

He didn’t hesitate for a second as he straddled your stomach, your first reaction was to fight him but it was little use as he grabbed your arms, shoving them above your head as he wrangled your wrist into one side, “Maybe you shouldn’t be such a fucking smartass and I wouldn’t tie you up.” Seokjin successfully cuffed you to the railing, leaving you at his mercy as he straightened up, looking down at you like you were dirty beneath his feet, “But that little cunt likes it right? My filthy little bitch likes to be tied up and made to take what she’s given, right?”

Your pupils narrowed into a glare, not in any position to be objecting when your pussy was coated in cum and begging to be stuffed full of his cock yet you couldn’t stop the words from leaving your lips in a bratty fit of rage, “More like you can’t keep me in one spot without the help.”

Seokjin’s lips twitched at your defiance, yet on another hand also not surprised by it long too used to your bratty ways as he grabbed slid off you to grab your thighs, pulling them back over his shoulders before you felt a sharp sting on your ass making you yelp, “Should I gag that little bitchy mouth too?”

You couldn’t even find a haughty reply before suddenly whimpering, the feeling of his wet, warm tongue plunging inside you making your walls clench around him while giving a breathy moan, his fingers teasing their way up your clit before circling your sensitive bud, “Fuck! A-ah! You’re such a dick.”

His hand immediately left your clit to slam his hand against your ass in warning, the sting traveling to your cunt in excitement as your walls clenched around his tongue once more, a laugh escaping your lips that you disguised as a moan before curling your back at the way his tongue roughly dragged into your g-spot, the skin of your hands digging into the cuffs as you rattled against them.

Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your hand as Seokjin let his fingers circle over your clit once more, a whine of objection leaving your throat as he pulled his tongue from your, licking his lips as he continued to play with your sensitive bud, “Have you considered shower sex before?”

No amount of pleasure in the world could keep the glare off your face, watching the way that little shit’s lips were tempted to pull into a smile as you sneered, “You want my pussy at all or should I go ask Jimin for some help?”

His gaze twisted into a mutual glare, eyes darkening and it was only now you realized you had royally screwed yourself over as he dropped your thighs, almost ignoring your words for the moment as he stood up.

Your eyes however dropped down to his pants as they slid to the floor revealing the thick angry cock bouncing up to his abdominal, it was not only long but it’s girth had your body clenching all over against and his bulbous tip would always be a painful stretch no matter how much prepping, “Oh yeah? Well how about we give him a call then? Let him decide if you’re being taken care of?” Seokjin asked, his voice in a near sneer as he grabbed your legs, pressing them against your chest making you whine, “Let him know this pussy is getting stuffed and cumming all over my dick?”

You struggled to kick your legs as the feeling of the thick shaft of his cock running against your wet, cum coated cunt, rubbing past your clit as you moaned, too much teasing being done to you as Seokjin growled, “Want my cock you little slut? Then beg, I want to hear how bad you need it.”

Whining your face twisted into a rare pout, you had already begged once today and he was really going to make you throw your dignity out the window? You whimpered with a gag at his hand suddenly grabbing back against your throat again, “Should I get out a vibrator too?”

Your body was heating up with fresh arousal at the idea but before you could even reply Seokjin squeezed at your throat, “You know what? I will, I wanna see my little bitch in tears tonight, see how bad she needs me.”

Seokjin leaned over your body before grabbing the wand that was inside the nightstand, your thighs already rubbing together in need of another release. You couldn’t help but swallow at the click of the vibrator, the buzz worst then any gun to your head could imitate, “Spread your cunt, I know you like being a little whore and putting it on display.”

“Maybe I’d like it more for Jimin.” You challenged, eyes squinting as Seokjin gritted his teeth, not hesitating to pry your legs open before roughly pressing the vibrator into your clit, a loud whine echoing off the walls as your hips spasmed and rocked up into the vibrator.

“Jimin this, Jimin that,” Seokjin rolled his eyes, his jaw clenched as he turned it up a setting, moaned whimpers escaping you as you tugged rapidly against the restraints that held you, “Just admit you like being turned into a little bitch, you like when I play with this cunt until it’s dripping wet and soaked in cum,” You cried out at the feeling of two fingers plunging back inside you, the lewd wet squelch of your walls rapidly clenching around him as he clacked his tongue, “Is your little pussy gonna cum again? Do you need cum?”

“Please.” The cracked whimper wasn’t as enticing as you had hoped but you could hardly process a word anymore, too much stimulation overwhelming you as Seokjin sneered at your pathetic attempt

Seokjin suddenly curled his fingers inside you with a growl as you kicked your legs and your eyes began to burn with tears, “I know you can do better than that. I said: Fucking beg.” His fingers continued rapidly curling into your g-spot, the vibrator in your clit almost too much to handle as he skillfully continued to edge you.

“Mmm! A-ah fuck, please! Please! Shit, wanna cum so bad, please!” What was left of your dignity had completely crumbled as the words flew from your lips, vision blurring with tears as your body burned to intensely only for Seokjin to pull away, “Please! Need it so bad, please.”

Seokjin let the sadistic smile twist onto his lips, watching the way your body quivered beneath him, the tears trickling down your cheeks and completely submissive beneath him, turning down the vibrator before letting the tip circle around your entrance, enjoying the way your body twitched as he hummed, “Are you gonna be a good girl and apologize? You should be thankful I play with this cunt as much as I do.”

Dragging the vibrator up your slit before coaxingly rubbing over your clit, a small sob escaped your lips as your hips bucked up into the vibrator, his fingers pushing back inside you before curling once more into your g-spot, “A-ah I’m sorry! Please, please, please I’m sorry!”

Your cracked, whimpered words like music to Seokjins ears as he felt your walls tighten around him, “And what do you want baby? Use your words.” His mouth near watering at the way your hips rolled against his fingers, your little hole taking his fingers so easily as your face became nearly unrecognizable to anyone else besides himself. “Mmm! Please!” You whined your clit thrumming with vibration as you cried, a new stream of tears dripping down your cheeks at his torture, “Please let me cum, please! Need it so bad, please.”

Seokjin let his tongue graze against his lips, reveling in your pleading as he finally let out a smile, turning the vibrator up once more that gained another sob from you as he coaxed, “There’s my good girl, now cum all over my fingers, be a good girl and cum.”

Your walls were rapidly clenching around him and your clit was throbbing as the moan caught in your throat, the force of the orgasm enough to rip it out into a scream as a new sob escaped your, your body twisting and snapping in hot searing pleasure.

“Mmm fuck that’s a good girl.” Seokjin guided you through your orgasm with ease before gently pulling his fingers from you and turning off the vibrator as your thighs trembled. Your mind nearly blank as you continued reeling from pleasure.

You barely even registered when Seokjin had uncuffed you from the bed while whistling, “Jesus, I think this is the most fucked out you’ve ever been, are you gonna be able to take getting stuffed full?”

Despite his words he and you both were well aware this was far from the first time you had been this fucked out, Seokjin didn’t even looked worried at the way you trembled, having become so well acquainted with your body, “I didn’t just beg like a cheap pornstar to be told I’m not getting dick.”

That was enough to cause that annoying windshield wiper like laugh to sound as he spread your legs making you jump, mirth in his eyes at your crabbiness, having never been a fan of begging- or subbing before but Seokjin was also aware he was the one exception, “I know you love my dick but calm down it’s not going anywhere.”

A breathy whine escaped your lips as Seokjin let his thick bulbous tip circling against your entrance before pushing inside you, the stretch burning and pleasure shooting through your sensitive walls as Seokin didn’t bother to wait for you to adjust, his hips immediately slamming into yours as your back arched with a whine, “You know- you never did answer me, should we call him? Let him listen to your little pathetic moans? Let his dick get hard at the idea of fucking my girl.”

Your mind could hardly register his words, too caught up at the feeling of his cock squeezing into your small hole and brushing over your g-spot with each stroke as your hands clawed against his back, “Fuck- are you insane?” You tried to turn it into a snap but all it came out as was a pathetic whine, hips rolling with his as his hand dragged down to rub over your clit again, a moan escaping your lips at the sensitivity as you clenched around his thick shaft, “My phone’s back in the kitchen.”

Seokjin let out a moan before huffing, “I’m trying to be sexy, can you play along for once?” You both couldn’t help but let out a shared strained laugh as his hips continued to roll against your’s, his cock completely coated in both your cum and arousal making a mess against your thighs. Unexpectedly Seokjin pulled out of you making you whine as you popped up indignantly, royally fucked out with dried tears on your cheeks and a hoarse voice, “I am not finished with your dick yet.”

Sitting up Seokjin pulled you into his lap, the first time you’d gladly be manhandled all day as you quickly grabbed his throbbing dick, pumping his base a few times before properly sinking down on it, a quiet moan escaping you both as he let out a strained chuckle, “You’re such a fucking-”

You yelped at the loud smack of his hand stinging against your ass, “Cockslut.” Your walls clenched at the degradation, hips suddenly rolling as you bounced against his thick cock, whining as you buried into his neck, “Oh you like that? Being my little cockslut?” You moaned at the feeling of his hand spanking against your ass once more, the sting burning in your skin making your walls clench harder, “Riding my dick because you’re a needy little slut? Does that cunt need my dick?”

“Mmm please...!” You whined, having been teased too much to challenge him anymore, skin slapping against skin with every bounce of your hips, you were so fucked out on his cock you could hardly focus on anything but the way it’s thick throbbing shaft split your pussy open and the way it rubbed just the right way into your g-spot, “Yes, my pussy loves riding it.”

The wet squelch of your body clenching around him forced a moan from Seokjin’s lips, “That’s right, my dirty little bitch.” You whined at the smack of his hand on your ass once more. Seokjin’s hand dived down to your clit once more, rubbing it as you cried out tears immediately stinging your eyes once more at how sensitive it was, hips bucking and bouncing against him as his tongue dragged against your neck, “Gonna cum all over my cock? Make a big mess like the little bitch you are?”

“Y-yes.” Your voice desperate and cracked as Seokjin rubbed down on just the right spot against your swollen, sore bud causing you to clench once more, Seokjin let out a long deep moan as you felt the warm thick string of his release cream inside of you leaving your pussy a swollen, sticky messy as you slowed your hips down.

“You know…” You had to pause for a second as you let yourself heave and gulp for air, coming down from your high of sex before continuing, “If you ever feel like you’re being replaced, you should just talk to me about it- seriously.” You leaned a little away from him to look him in the eyes.

While angry sex was a personal favorite between you both, it was by no means an actual remedy to your problems, and Seokjin knew this, his eyes a little bashful as he sighed, arms wrapping loosely around your waist, “No...I...I was just childish...I never liked sharing you when we were younger either, this isn’t any different I just…”

He set his chin down on your shoulder to get away without having to look at you, feelings were always something that felt a little awkward to discuss, but you cared about one another so much you both would always force it out from the other, “You mean so much to me Y/n, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, whether it’s from dying, or you just getting tired of me and leaving-I just- I need you. You’re the only reason I have left to keep going.”

“Seokjin…” You sighed, pulling yourself off his now softened cock before properly seating yourself in his lap, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist before wrapping your arms around him in a much accepted hug, “I’m not going anywhere. And if you feel like I’m going too, you need to talk to me about it. I know you’re a total dumbass and it’s difficult to believe but you’re all I have left too. I’m not going anywhere, we’re partners, always have and always will be,” You pulled away from him before giving him a cocky wink, “Til death do us part motherfucker. Now let’s go watch a movie or something, your cum makes me feel like a sperm bank.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Seokjin furrowed his brows as you stood up, hobbling over to his dresser as you grabbed a hoodie.

“The same thing as beatface.” You wiggled the hoodie over your head before rolling your eyes. Your life was anything but easy, and there was still so much to come, but you’d be okay, you and Seokjin would always have one another’s back, and even the sky could fall but you’d be fine. As long as you had him, “You know what? Nevermind, you’re worthless Kim, just pick a fucking movie.”

#bts #bts x reader #bts x y/n #seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader smut #seokjin x y/n #jin x reader #jin smut #seokin smut #assassin au #assassin!seokjin #assassin!reader #bts au #bts assassin au

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jme-crocodile · 5 years

Text

(TW: my catholic school trauma)

Reading “The Boy Who Could Change the World”

It’s difficult to even imagine what America was like before the industrial revolution. Their notion of freedom was far stronger than the one we have today. For many Americans, life wasn’t about showing up at a job at a specified hour, following orders all day, and returning home for a couple hours of “free time”—that would be considered slavery. A free American was one who worked on their own or with their family, worked from home, worked whatever hours they liked, and got paid based on what they accomplished.

Under the putting-out system, for example, merchants would deliver raw materials like cotton to your house. When you felt like it, you’d card, spin, and weave the raw cotton into cloth. And then the next week the merchant would come by to buy from you whatever cloth you had produced.

He goes on to discuss mill workers in New England, who were mostly young girls, some around the age of 10. This was before our modern day labor laws, so the girls were working fourteen hour days. They still found time to read & discuss books/ideas, though.

And through all that thinking and learning and discussing, they began to question the less pleasant aspects of their situation. When, in 1836, the Lowell mill owners decided to cut their employees’ pay, the girls walked out.

What these young girls accomplished is truly amazing. They organized their own newspaper, the Voice of Industry, which they wrote, edited, printed, and sold themselves. Through it they organized more protests and strikes, as well as organized their own slate of candidates in the state elections to fight for better working conditions and a ten-hour day. Amazingly, their slate won. The owners, outraged, got their legislators to declare the election results invalid and hold a revote. Before the revote, large signs were posted threatening that anyone who voted for the ten-hour slate would be fired. And yet the slate won again.

[..]

But their writing in the Voice shows that they wanted much more than simply better working conditions. They saw themselves as slaves—wage slaves—and concluded that the solution was not simply to demand that the bosses be nicer to them or pay them more, but to abolish the bosses entirely.

Their bosses didn't like this, at all. The mill owners fired the girls, blacklisted their names, and then did something strange: they sent girls to school.

The schools they built—the common schools—would be easily recognizable by any modern student. “The door [of each school] shall be closed precisely at the time fixed for the opening of the school, and in the morning religious exercises will be performed, for which purpose 10 minutes are allowed.” (Today we just say the pledge of allegiance.) “Each teacher shall call the roll call of his or her classes … in the morning and afternoon, and shall keep an accurate record of all absences.” The day was then divided into separate lessons, allowing “30 minutes for the study of each lesson and 10 minutes for each recitation.”

Instead of corporal punishment, teachers were encouraged to secure order “by the mildest possible means” to instill “a regard for right, and thus a standard of self-government in the minds of the children themselves.”* Students were tested on how much they learned and, just like today, working coordinating other students was considered “cheating” and punished. (Perhaps they were worried that if students learned to coordinate they might be more likely to foment strikes once in the mills.)"

[...]

Careful records kept by the mill owners allow us to compare mill workers who did and did not go to school. Just as with modern students, there is no evidence of any impact of increased education on worker productivity.*

So why did the mill owners spend so much money building and running these schools? They were quite clear about their intent. The classes were justified not for their usefulness but because memorizing them was a form of “moral education” leading to “industrious habits … and the consequent high moral influence which it exerts upon society at large.”

As one Lowell manager explained it, “I have never considered mere knowledge, valuable as it is in itself to the laborer, as the only advantage derived from a good common-school education. I have uniformly found the better educated, as a class, possessing a higher and better state of morals, more orderly and respectful in their deportment, and more ready to comply with the wholesome and necessary regulations of an establishment.”"

As the Lowell School Committee summarized their findings: “The proprietors find the training of the schools admirably adapted to prepare the children for the labors of the mills.” Why? “When [their laborers] are well educated … controversies and strikes can never occur, nor can the minds of the masses be prejudiced by demagogues and controlled by temporary and factitious considerations.”*

Indeed, school was so important that the mill owners quickly decided to make it mandatory. “No language of ours can convey too strongly our sense of the dangers which wait us from [those who] are not and have never been members of our public schools,” warned the Lowell School Committee. Universal schooling is “our surest safety against internal commotions.”‡ The children who didn’t attend school “constitute an army more to be feared than war, pestilence and famine,” warned the committee. “Unsuccessful attempts, during the past year, to burn two of our school-houses … are an index to the evils which threaten from such sources.”

More accurately, such burnings were an index of public resistance to such coercion. In 1837, 300 teachers were forced to flee their classrooms by riotous and violent students.║ In 1844, the Irish population went on strike from the schools, reducing attendance by 80%. The School Committee stepped up their anti-truancy efforts to force them and others back to school."

And so the spread of schools and factories destroys the American model of freedom. Instead of being independent farmers or self-employed manufacturers, Americans are herded into factories enmasse, forced to work for someone else because they cannot earn a living any other way. But thanks to schools, this seems normal, even natural. After all, isn’t that just the way the world works?

The effect on the students is almost heartbreaking. Taught that reading is simply about searching contrived stories for particular “text features,” they learn to hate reading. Taught that answering questions is simply about cycling through the multiple-choice answers to find the most plausible ones, they begin to stop thinking altogether and just spout random combinations of test buzzwords whenever they’re asked a question. “The joy of finding things out” is banished from the classroom. Testing is in session.”

School hasn’t seemed to have changed much since the early 1800s, at least the not sort of schooling geared for the masses. As a child, I was strongly discouraged from risk taking, ridiculed by teachers when I gave the wrong answer, punished for asking questions, had to ask permission to use the bathroom (and was often refused), refused permission to get a drink of water (the school had no air conditioning & it was June in Pennsylvania. Yes, multiple children got heat exhaustion, daily. Our parents commiserated, but thought this was normal. Teachers treated this as normal. We were told to “toughen up” and respect our elders when we complained.) We were taught to need someone’s permission to get medical attention.

I was once refused when I needed to see the nurse (I was going to vomit.) The teacher accused me of lying & told me to sit down. I sat down, and about two minutes later threw up. I half expected to get a demerit for dirtying the floor. I burst into tears, blubbering out humiliated apologies to my classmates and to the teacher. Above my concern for my dignity and health had been placed my teacher. That was my mentality as a kid.

(Normal is whatever you’re used to, but people shouldn’t be used to this.)

The thing that stands out in all of this, now, was how the other students remained frozen. I don’t know how to interpret their freeze -- they didn’t move to get me a tissue, or towels, or anything. The teacher had forbade me from moving to clean up myself, so I had to wait for the nurse to arrive in a puddle of my own vomit. I obeyed. My classmates were staring at their desks, at the wall, anywhere but the teacher or myself. Maybe they were suffering second-hand embarrassment, or pity, or even fear that the teacher would lash out at them, next.

That was the sort of environment we grew up in, for 14 years of our lives.

In all of this, I notice this kind of moral fragmentation that society today seems to encourage. There’s a sense that people have abrogated all responsibility: “oh, that’s not my department, I’m not the one who makes the rules.” So we ignore people in pain, and accept on an instinctive level that there’s nothing we can do.

Except that isn’t true, even that asshole Lowell said, “The children who didn’t attend school “constitute an army more to be feared than war, pestilence and famine.””

This submissive attitude people have comes from fear, from an underestimation of our own strength and compassion.

---

Like, do people get what this does to a person’s self-esteem? Maybe not, because they’re all suffering from the same blindness.

Last week during the heat wave, I started experiencing heat exhaustion and my instinctive thoughts were to move as little as possible, and wait for it to be over.

I mean, what does that sound like to you?

Like, maybe my experiences at school were unusually bad, but it looks to me a lot like our society is systematically abusing kids into submissively accepting poor treatment by their superiors.

#unschooling #aaron swartz #tw-school

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konohagakurekakashi · 4 years

Note

Does Kakashi have any mental illnesses/ mental instabilies? Please and thank you 🙏

||OOC: Hi there! I apologise for the time it took me to write this response. It’s something I had to think on since I’m in no way a doctor of the psych (or of any kind really-quite the opposite!).

It’s a dark, tricky subject matter to boot, so as not to trigger or offend anyone, I’ll leave the bulk of my response under the ‘read me’ option, something I’m sure you won’t protest on. Before I get into the grit of it, I just want to emphasize something of import. No matter from which angle you look at, Shinobi life wasn’t pretty! It was a hard life, the secret arts of espionage and assassination passed on from parent to child, generation to generation. One can’t be taught the ancient practices of mixing poisons, honey-trapping and sabotage—serve in bloody wars (whether between clans or villages), killing children, men, women and come out of it unscathed. The short answer would therefore be yes, Kakashi does have a lot of mental health issues, but then so does every other character that form a part of the broken, shinobi system. Let’s get into it!

As a child Kakashi was overly formal and had rigid mannerisms, so much so that his superiors often commented that he acted more like an adult than a child (in the anime we even hear a few Chūnin complain about how his behaviour was creepy). He had an almost hyper-awareness for details and an equally overwhelming need for order, was painfully punctual and most importantly; had a rigid adherence to the rules, regulations and his own moral code. He was unable to connect with others emotionally and used others’ sentiments for his own benefit/gain, manipulated comrades and enemy alike and scarcely picked up on simple, social cues- pushing back against them with his sense of self-righteousness and anger. These are all symptoms of OCPD. Other symptoms other than his compulsive behaviour, agitation and hyper vigilance may include: impulsivity, ritualistic behaviour, social isolation, apprehension, guilt, food aversions, nightmares and repeatedly going over one’s own, dark thoughts and can be glimpsed in the formulaic manner in which Kakashi formed his day to day tasks while in the academy, in how he separated himself from his classmates and clung to the Shinobi regulations as if they were a barrier.

Funnily enough these symptoms are also present in adult Kakashi, though perhaps to a lesser extent. He still separates himself from the other Jōnin, his apartment is exceptionally sparse and impersonal. He takes all failures and shortcoming personally, even when displayed during a simple training exercise and though he might no longer obsess about the rules and regulations that make out the Shinobi system—he still has a strong sense of self-righteousness about how things /should/ be done (evident in how he failed one Genin Team after the other) thus ending up obsessing over his own ethical codes and the scathing words of a long-dead teammate. Also—Have you ever seen the way Kakashi peels an orange? Yeah, such an unassuming gesture is pretty self-explanatory as to his character.

After the Third Shinobi War and the deaths of both Obito and Rin; Kakashi showed symptoms of PTSD. These indications include, but are not limited to: night-terrors, insomnia (if Kakashi sleeps three to four hours a night, it would be a lot, seeing as he’d rather stay up and read a book twice over), isolation, hallucinations (he hallucinates Rin in the Market Place and about the village after her death and his view of his own Genin distorts and over-laps with that of his former team on numerous occasions. On the battlefield, during the Fourth War, I also believe he mistook Naruto for Minato twice.) He re-experiences his traumatic events, repeating the actions not only in his dreams, but he has detailed flashbacks of them every time he uses his Raikiri (even years after the fact, though I reckon the Sharingan doesn’t help matters).

Kakashi was also seen reliving phantom sensations associated with the event- pain (especially in his borrowed eye), trembling, palpitations, shortness of breath, sweating. He kept imagining the slickness of blood on his hands and was consumed with washing it away. Kakashi also had six/seven visible panic attacks within the Anime, which is also a known symptom. Furthermore Kakashi had a severe case of Survivor’s Guilt and felt responsible for the deaths of both his friends. This can be seen in his clear avoidance of others and/or his emotional numbness. He doesn’t want to risk bonding with the living as he feels like it could result in their death, dismissing them (sometimes overly harsh, poor, sweet Gai) instead.

Feeling disconnected from others and being constantly stuck in the tragedies of the past caused Kakashi to fashion a reckless fighting style. More prominent during his ANBU years; his friends going so far as to say that he was setting out on suicide missions by trying to get himself killed in the field by having no concern for himself or his own safety. This is still evident in Kakashi’s willingness to push himself passed his own physical limits (Chakra Exhaustion Ward Anyone?) if it meant taking the brunt of the damage from his subordinates or teammates.

The list goes on really, but the above is a compilation of the most prominent displays in his behaviour. You may differ from me and that’s alright. I think it’s worth mentioning again that the shinobi system was not a kind one, especially to its youth. The fact that the Leaf Village has a semi-functional workforce is really down to a Kami given miracle—Though I reckon things will start to improve (in the future generations at least) with the establishment of Sakura and Ino’s Mental Health Clinic.

#konohagakurekakashi #Hatake Kakashi [The Scarecrow]#Character Study #Character Aesthetic #mental instability #mental health #Shinobi System #Ask Answered #anonymous #ooc-sortof

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bronzeflower · 4 years

Text

The Opposite of a Fake Relationship

Also on ao3

Chapter 2: The Inspection

-----

“That builder we hired sure is fast,” Lyla stared towards where the expansion was, which had basically doubled in size from the last time Arlo got a look at it.

“You should see him fight,” Arlo said, and Lyla looked over at him in bewilderment, but quickly schooled her expression into something more neutral.

“That kind of skill will be useful when we need builders on expeditions,” Lyla stated. “Last time, the builder we took with us could throw a punch, and they ended up slowing us down more than helping us.”

“Yesh,” Arlo sympathized. Typically builders refused to go on expeditions if they didn’t have any fighting skills, but he supposed some would think it’s fine because they have Flying Pigs members there.

He could imagine how worrisome and annoying it would be if he went on an adventure with someone he was just trying to protect the entire time if it wasn’t supposed to be an escort mission.

“Anyway, I’m going to check on the expansion to make sure the foundation is steady,” Lyla announced. “The speed in which it’s being built is concerning, especially since the workshop is made up of only a single builder. Could you come with me for assistance in checking for defects? Another pair of eyes will be useful.”

“Of course,” Arlo responded. He would be offended on behalf of his husband that he would put in anything less than his best work, but he understood Lyla’s concern. Besides, he was confident there wouldn’t be a single defect to be found.

When they arrived, Arlo saw Victor near the top of the expansion. There were a few seconds of loud noises coming from Victor banging his hammer before Victor practically jumped down the wall concerningly quickly, even as he grabbed a few key areas built up as temporary supports to slow his descent.

Victor rolled as he made contact with the ground in a maneuver that Arlo knew was designed for taking minimal damage when falling from higher places.

Victor stood up, brushed himself off, and when he turned, he noticed Arlo and Lyla there.

“Hello!” Victor smiled widely and waved. “Came to check on how the expansion’s doing?”

“Yes,” Lyla answered bluntly. “As per Flying Pigs regulations, we must make sure that all expansions are suitable for our standards.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I can guarantee you that these walls are as sturdy as I can make them!” Victor banged on the wall to demonstrate. “Feel free to search for defects. You won’t find any.”

“You’re cocky,” Lyla criticized.

“If you want to prove me wrong, you’re going to have to find a defect,” Victor challenged, and Arlo immediately felt the need to rise to the challenge. “If you find one, I’ll renounce the job and get you someone better. If you don’t, I’d like a sparring match with you.”

“With me?” Lyla questioned, a calculating expressing painting her features.

“Yeah, I’ve already sparred with hot stuff over here,” Victor pointed a thumb towards Arlo, and Arlo barely registered the fact that Victor called him ‘hot stuff,’ if only because Victor called him that with relative frequency.

Lyla was clearly somewhat caught off guard by the flirtatious name, but she accepted Victor’s terms.

Victor went back to work to allow them to start their inspect, and Lyla turned towards Arlo.

“Was he really flirting with you?”

“I hope so,” Arlo answered, more in the context of that was his husband, and he hoped that Victor wasn’t flirting with anyone else, but Lyla took it very differently.

“Really? I didn’t expect you to be into someone so…” Lyla thought for a moment. “Unprofessional.”

“He’s just friendly,” Arlo suggested, staring at the wall in an effort to search for any cracks or weak spots.

“He challenged me to a sparring match and called you hot stuff,” Lyla pointed out, kicking the wall with all her might. As Arlo expected, it did not budge or dent or crack even the slightest degree. “That’s not exactly what I would call friendly behavior.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just how he is. He challenged me to a sparring match when I first met him too,” Arlo said, and he didn’t even lie about that. Yeah, his ‘first’ meeting with Victor in the Flying Pigs was characterized by Victor saying that he wanted a sparring match, but it was also one of the first things Victor said to Arlo back in Portia.

“He hasn’t even been here that long. Get that lovestruck expression off your face,” Lyla ordered, and Arlo didn’t even realize the face he was making while remembering his first meeting with Victor.

“Right.”

Lyla ran her hand over the areas she kicked to see if she knocked up any kind of dust or made any minuscule cracks, but, each and every single time, the wall was still just as perfect.

“I’m gonna have to break through the ceiling to find something to complain about in this place,” Lyla grumbled, and Arlo glanced up to where there was very obviously no ceiling yet.

“You’re gonna have to wait for the ceiling to be built first,” Arlo responded, and Lyla leveled him with a glare.

“I did not ask for your input.”

“You asked me for help in uncovering weak points.”

“I think the only weak point here is you, given how soft you got for this builder in just a few days,” Lyla criticized, but, luckily Arlo was saved from responding to that when Victor interjected into their conversation.

“How’s the inspection going? Find any defects yet?” Victor inquired, smiley and confident as ever.

“No,” Lyla answered. “I hope you’re ready to lose this sparring match.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve lost,” Victor shifted into a fighting stance, and after a breath, the match began.

Now, Arlo was the kind of person who preferred being in a fight rather than outside of it, but he had to admit that it was impressive to see Victor’s form from a distance rather than from up close.

Of course, Lyla was also impressive, as all Flying Pigs members were, but Arlo was so used to moving and reacting along with Victor in a fight that it was strange to stand so still.

Victor won because of course he did, and Lyla shook his hand as she accepted her defeat.

“Maybe I’ll challenge you to a rematch at some point,” Lyla spoke, and Victor grinned.

“That’d be great! I always love meeting new people to spar with!” Victor retracted the statement slightly. “Well, ones that can keep up with me to any degree.”

“Same here,” Lyla agreed. “Good work on the expansion.”

“Well, I haven’t finished it quite yet,” Victor responded. “We can always do a repeat of our bet whenever.”

“Alright,” Lyla nodded. “Someone needs to make sure you’re doing your job correctly.”

“That extends to you too, darling,” Victor directed to comment towards Arlo. “If you can’t find a defect, we have a sparring match.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” Arlo answered. “Does this time count?”

“Of course it does!” Victor said, and Victor and Arlo immediately started the match after Victor’s confirmation.

Arlo tried out a couple new tricks, but so did Victor. In fact, Arlo even caught sight of a few of Aureall’s moves, and he wondered who else Victor had been sparring against.

“Are you just asking everyone you meet to spar with you?” Arlo questioned after he thoroughly got his butt kicked, and Victor got a slightly sheepish grin.

“I’m in a building full of renowned fighters. How could I possibly resist?”

“And how many times have you sparred with Aureall?” Arlo inquired.

“As many times as she challenged me!” Victor declared, and Arlo knew with how Aureall tended to be that she had challenged Victor many times. At least enough to pick up some of her moveset.

“You really shouldn’t accept all of her challenges,” Lyla advised. “She has a job to do, and, if she’s sparring you, she’s not doing it.”

“It was during her break,” Victor countered. “Speaking of which, mine is over. Thanks for the sparring matches!”

With that, Victor turned heel and returned to the top of the walls he was building, clearing the wall in a matter of seconds.

“I didn’t expect you to be into someone who could defeat you so easily,” Lyla mirrored her words from earlier. “Although I suppose it means you can worry less about their general wellbeing.”

“He can prove himself in a fight, but I don’t think he’s using any kind of safety harness when going up and down that wall,” Arlo pointed out, and, indeed, Victor was just going free and standing in very precarious ways while doing so.

“Okay, yeah, that’s concerning to watch.”

Lyla and Arlo just took a moment to stare at Victor working. Victor glanced over to them and waved wildly, and Arlo awkwardly waved back.

“Let’s get back to work,” Lyla announced, so they did.

#mtap #my time at portia #mtap arlo #mtap builder #builder victor #oc #original character #mtap flying pigs

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currebunz · 4 years

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Commission: Attack on Titan AU Parks and Recs

AO3 Link

A thick air hung in the office, crushing everyone's motivation for the day. The source of this bad energy came in the form of the ex-husband of the health advisor who worked in the same office area. The employee themselves were very nice and actually very apologetic for the situation. But the ex-husband was more than happy to be in the office. That was because he was here for an IRS tax audit. The Department of Trost had never had such a cold day before, even with the air conditions on high. whenever the man walked by, it was like a cold breeze went by. The younger and new hires were on high alert, flinching whenever the man was within sight. Sasha dived under her desk on her break as he walked by to look over Connie's shoulder. It was like watching a horror movie with a monster that didn't kill anyone. "I haven't had single thought with that guy walking around," Reiner said quietly while he was in the break room. Bertholdt had an open lunchbox in front of him but wasn't eating. "You think he can hear me chew? He told me chewing violated public health guidelines" he muttered quietly. "He's even gotten to Bert!" Reiner told Jean. "I can see that! Keep your voice down. That man has the ears of a hawk" Jean said as he covered Reiner's mouth with his hand. Everyone was quiet as they heard approaching feet. They let out a sigh at Marco entered the breakroom. "Hey....never mind" he turned around and walked back out. "That's cold Marco" Jean said quietly. "I don't blame him, I don't even want to mess around with that guy on patrol" Reiner groaned. He sat down next to Bertholdt, making the man eat his lunch before his break ended. "I just don't get it, how can someone be that evil?" Jean asked. "Easy, he's an ex," Annie said as she walked to the microwave. She stuck her hot pocket in and turned it on for a few minutes. "What's that supposed to mean?" Reiner asked.

Annie cleared her throat, turning to them with a cold stare. "An ex is filled with nothing but disdain for their previous partner. Imagine, after breaking up you go to work and now hold the fate of your previous partner's job in your hands? You would be swallowed up by the immense power and go mad" she explained. All of the men stared at her in an eerie shock. The microwave beeped and she opened the door. "Or, at least that's what I would do," she said as she blew on her meal. Annie walked back out without any further comments. "My God, she is right" Jean groaned as he leaned against the counter. The ex-husband was obviously making their lives hell just to get back at their partner! "What a bastard! Why is he making us suffer too?" Reiner complained. "It's probably just to spite everyone," Bertholdt said as he finished his lunch. "Thanks, Reiner" he grinned to his partner. "Don't sweat it, but you need to eat. Forget what that guy says" Reiner frowned as he saw Connie dash by. "He's coming!" he hissed briefly before continuing on his way. Reiner, Bertholdt, and Jean gathered their stuff and quickly left the break room. Back on the floor, Eren was typing slowly. His eyes were glued to the keyboard as he hit one button at a time. His shoulders were stiff and his brow sweaty. "Erin, are you done yet? I need those papers soon" Armin called over the desk to him. "I'm trying but Brian said I type too loud" Eren explained. He tried to type a bit faster, but his keys began to click with each movement. "Jaeger! I thought I told you to keep it down!" a loud voice cut across the office. Eren jumped up from his table and stood at attention. "Sorry, sir! I'll be quieter sir!" he shouted before sitting back down. His head fell forward onto his keyboard and he groaned loudly. "Sorry, Eren..." Armin whispered sadly. "It's not your fault he has the ears that could hear a mouse fart" Eren sighed as he sat back up. The space bar was indented on his face, making his delete the extra spaces on his work. "It's like I don't even know how to type anymore" he groaned as he looked at the single sentence, he had worked on for the past 30 minutes. Brian would come over to his desk if he so much as yawned, telling him to hurry up but be quiet about it. "How are you holding up Armin?" Eren asked. "Oh, you know. Brian thought I worked too fast, so he gave me Sasha's work and has her cleaning the carpets. I've only just started the work for next quarter, but Brian insists it's better to be ahead" Armin prattled off as his vision began to tunnel. He reached for an energy drink to his right and tilted the can upward until the last drop fell into his mouth. "I can smell colors" he sighed as his eyes focused on the screen. Eren looked on in horror, the usually calm and collected Armin was now a nervous wreck. Eren would always get help from him as he finished his work early each day, but now Eren wanted to help Armin. "I'll take some of it off your hands, I can...uh.... write it out for you" Eren grabbed a stack of papers and began writing down the report rather than typing it. Armin could type it out later since he wasn't a loud.

"Thanks, Eren. I don't want to stay late and have to wake you up to let me in again" Armin said in a shaky voice. He had only managed to sleep for five hours this morning before Eren woke him up to go to work. The two of them had staggered to the office and were immediately given a pile of work to deal with. That hadn't even been the worst of it, Mikasa who usually greeted them had been affected too. The woman usually was cool and stoic as nothing seemed to bother her. But that morning, she wore a cheerful smile and brought everyone coffee. "Hey guys, working hard or hardly working?" she laughed as she grabbed Eren's shoulders. Neither of her friends was able to respond right away. It was like she was a whole different person. "Uhh, working hard?" Eren said as he passed glances to Armin. "Mikasa, do you feel okay?" Armin asked. "Oh, Armin! You're so funny! I feel as good as the sun is bright. Brian was telling me that a cheerful mood brightens the workplace so I just thought a smile would help everyone better" Mikasa explained. As she said this, she took Eren's pen and wrote in his notebook. He read "HELP ME" written along the top of it. "R-Right...cheerful," he said quietly. "Well, I'm off to reorganize the permits. Brian said it was a real pigsty in there!" Mikasa gave the guys a thumbs up before speed walking off. As she passed Annie, she gave the woman finger guns. Annie simply stared at her in disbelief. She walked over to Eren and pinched the man's neck. "Annie! What the hell?!" he shouted. "Yeah, this isn't a dream. I need this Brian guy to hit the road so I can have my wife back" she said angrily. Annie took a long sip from her coffee as she glared at the office Brian was using. Currently, Levi had been busy with a national meeting and would only be in his office a few days out the week. While he was gone, Brian made himself comfortable in the office. Rearranging the desk and even bringing food in there as Levi had forbidden. Erwin had tried to stop him but as with everyone else, Brian had whipped him into place and did as he liked. He had even turned Ymir into a gopher, running her back and forth from other departments.

Historia was putting a wet towel on Ymir's forehead while she downed a bottle of water. "That guy is like the if someone mixed raw concentrated evil with salt and limes" Ymir sighed as she fell into a chair. "The devil's margarita" Connie gasped. Ymir shot him a dirty look before turning to Historia. "Thanks, babe" she smiled tiredly. "Anytime honey" Historia kissed Ymir's cheek as she ran off to finish her work. Below them, Sasha was on her knees holding a pair of tweezers. "How am I supposed to clean the carpet with these?" she sighed as she picked out another crumb of granola. She dropped it into the small bag on her hip. "Why don't you use the vacuum?" Connie asked her. "Brian said it is a waste of power and since I am always behind, I can at least do this" Sasha sobbed. Even Levi never made her clean like this. "This is crazy man, how are we gonna get rid of this guy?" he groaned as he held his head in despair. "Good luck with that Connie, I'll make sure to redistribute your stuff to charity," Ymir said lazily. "H-Hey! I'm not gonna do it!" he argued. Sasha hugged his legs, crying loudly. "Please Connie! I don't wanna see another dust bunny again!" she bellowed. "I know, I know. But he is too scary!" Connie hugged Sasha as the two comforted one another. Just then, Marco dashed into the office. "Guys! Levi is coming!" he said in a panic. The entire office stopped, not a single person typed. Marco dashed to his desk and everyone held their breath as they tried to look normal. Their eyes darted between Levi's office and the front door.

Hinge entered the office first, laughing loudly about something. She stopped as she spotted Sasha on the floor and Mikasa happily arranging a corkboard. "Good lord," she said quietly as she looked around. Levi walked up behind her, pushing her in the middle of her back. "Hange, what have I said about blocking the entryway?" he said in an annoyed voice. "Safety regulations, blah, blah. Just look" she said as Levi stepped around her. His eyes scanned the office without any emotion on his face. right away, he ran his finger along a file cabinet, noting the amount of dust that had accumulated. He walked over to Sasha, staring down at her. "Get up" he ordered her. Without even a breath, Sasha stood up and began shaking. "Get the vacuum and clean the floor properly," Levi said with a pointed glare. "Yes, sir!" Sasha took off running to the utility closet without looking back. Levi turned his gave to Eren and Armin, glaring at the large stack of papers on their desks. "Eren, stop playing with your keyboard and take half of Armin's work" he continued. Eren quickly scooped up the mess of papers and began typing loudly. Levi glanced at Ymir and Historia, not saying anything as he went to his office. He opened the door without knocking, earning a glare from Brian. "Where is Erwin?" Levi asked calmly. "He is out getting donuts, why?" Brian said back just as calmly. Everyone was still "working" while holding their breath. With Levi's absence, they had forgotten how much of an unstoppable force. It was like watching to lions facing off. "He should be here completing the month's summary, we have front desk employees that can get deliveries" Levi lectured the auditor as he walked slowly into the office. His eyes scanned every corner, noting each change Brian had made. "I see you have made a mess of my office" he continued. "A mess? I think I made it look better than before" Brian argued. Levi's eye twitched, obviously angered by the man's idea of "better".

"It's still my office and since I am back, you can leave now," Levi said as he pointed to the door. "I don't think so, I still have plenty of work to do. As you may remember, I'm handling your office's audit" Brian stood up and held Levi's stare. No one said anything for a while, battling with just their eyes. Erwin came rushing through the door wearing a sweater tied over his shoulders like some golf club dad. "They ran out of chocolate dipped so I got chocolate glaze..." he trailed off as he saw Levi standing in the office. "Oh..." he began to back away, but Levi caught him by the sweater. "What the hell are you wearing?" he said in a low voice. Erwin wasn't sure how to respond, shrinking in his husband's presence. "He is wearing Royal Polo, it's fashion. You could learn a thing or two" Brian announced proudly. Levi turned back to Brian with a look of pure death. "That's it, you're coming with me" Levi dragged Erwin out and shut the door. He led everyone into the break room for a powwow. "Why the hell all are you all acting like whipped puppies?" Levi asked. "Brian is terrifying! We can't take it anymore!" Sasha cried loudly. "He made Sasha clean the carpet with tweezers for a whole week. A week!" Connie explained. "He took all of Jean and my bobbleheads. Even the limited editioned ones" Marco explained. "And he calls me bobblehead! I don't look like a bobblehead!" Jean said angrily. Mikasa's persona broke for a moment, allowing her to glare weakly. "He made me say 'totes', I can't even sleep at night without reciting Gossip Girl scenes," she said tiredly. "Levi, he broke my wife!" Annie said angrily. "Yeah, and he makes me run back and forth to relay info that he could just say over a call" Ymir joined in angrily. "He made me his secretary, I told him I was the head of archives, but he said I looked like a secretary" Historia reported. “Brian told me I was too big for the office and makes me work in the hall” Reiner growled. “Me too, he put me in the storage closet because I bloke his view of the office” Bertholdt added in.

"It's worse than I thought, scratch that. Erwin's outfit is worse than I thought" Hange said. The man coughed, removing the sweater over his dress shirt. "I'm afraid even I can't stand up to him. He made me shave my beard since it was unsanitary" he explained. Levi's face was calm but everyone could sense the rage in him. They knew that Brian had crossed the line by altering how his husband looked. "This has gone on long enough. I'm calling in a favor" Levi said as he pulled out his phone. He dismissed everyone to go back to work as he talked on the phone. No one knew what he was planning as he cleared a table in the center of the office. Brian had walked out and looked around in mild confusion. "What is this?" he asked. Hange stood behind Levi, wearing a wild grin. "Welcome to the battle royale. Right here, right now. Operation soaring falcon is in its final stages" she announced. Levi sat down in one of the chairs as a large man entered the office. He was carrying a large gallon jug full of clear liquid. The man placed the jug on the table and shook hands with Levi. "Corporal" the man greeted him. "Swanson," Levi said back just as curtly. Everyone watched as Swanson pulled the cork off the bottle. "Ugh, what is that? It smells like Jet fuel" Sasha groaned as she covered her nose. "That's Swanson Family Mash liquor. Made from the finest corn ever grown on American soil. Its only legal use is to strip the varnish off of speedboats" Swanson explained. "It's time to settle this" Levi said as Swanson poured him a glass of the drink. "An old-fashioned prairie drink-off" Brian sighed as he removed his blazer. He took his own glass, holding Levi's stare. "If you win, the Trost Parks Department is yours. And if I win, you finish your audit with a perfect score and leave" Levi began. "Pour it, I'm thirsty" Brian challenged him. Levi and Brian took a shot of the liquor, closing their eyes as it burned down their throats. Everyone flinched despite not drinking it themselves. Another round down and neither batted a single eye. "Had enough?" Levi asked. "Of this watered-down baby formula? Not even close" Brian shot back with venom. By now, the entire office was watching things unfold. Neither party showed signs of getting even tipsy. Brian took another shot, burping after swallowing his glass. He began sweating, wiping it off and trying to pretend the alcohol wasn't hitting him quite yet. Levi held eye contact with him as he lifted the jug and chugged what was left of the liquor. "Oh my god" Connie gaped as Levi finished it with a loud sigh. "Game set!" Hange announced with a wild laugh. Levi rolled his eyes and looked down at Brian. "Now get out of my fucking department" he ordered him. Brian clumsily scrambled to his feet, gathering his stuff and stumbling out the door. Everyone began cheering and hugging each other. Levi closed his eyes, holding the bridge of his nose. "Everyone be quiet! Clean this place up and someone get me a cup of coffee" he shouted. Everyone was instantly quiet, shuffling around to fix the adjustments Brian had made them make in Levi's absence. Historia brought Levi a cup of coffee and he went back to his office with Erwin and Hange. Peace was restored in the Trost Parks Department and no one ever heard of Brian ever again.

#aot fanfiction #AOT AU #AU #Commission

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brigdh · 6 years

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Reading Definitely Not Wednesday

Leviathan Wakes by James S.A. Corey. A space opera set in the relatively near future. Humans have colonized Mars and the asteroid belt, and a few scattered populations make due on the moons of planets further out. There is, however, no faster-than-light travel, no contact with any solar system beyond our own, no sentient AIs, and no aliens. A major theme of the book is the culture clash between those who live on Earth or Mars – the superpowers of this future – and those who live in the Belt, where mining is the preeminent economy and life is the hardscrabble sort where even water and oxygen have to be imported, never mind concepts like justice and equality. Different characters move from one place to the other or switch allegiances, but their origins are as baked in as we would regard ethnicity or nationality. As one character puts it, "A childhood spent in gravity shaped the way he saw things forever." Corey (who is actually two separate dudes writing under a penname) does a wonderful job of fleshing out the background worldbuilding. I loved references to fungal-culture whiskey, Bhangra as the default elevator muzak, hand gestures exaggerated to be seen through a spacesuit, and largely unintelligible localized slang (“Bomie vacuate like losing air,” the girl said with a chuckle. “Bang-head hops, kennis tu?” / “Ken,” Miller said. /“Now, all new bladeboys. Overhead. I’m out.”). It feels like a more detailed world than a lot of sci-fi does. Which is good, because the characters are not all that compelling. The two POVs are Jim Holden and Detective Miller. Holden is the second-in-command on an unimportant spaceship that works as a freight hauler, moving ice back and forth between the Belt and Saturn. Things change dramatically when a mysterious someone attacks their ship and kills everyone except for Holden and a few others, and he finds himself centrally involved in the runup to war. He has the most generic action-movie-hero personality I can imagine, with no discernable characteristics except 'idealistic' (and I really only know that because other people keep telling him he is), kinda nervous about being suddenly thrust into command but doing a good job, a womanizer (but see, it's okay because he just keeps genuinely falling in love with so many women!), and earnest. He's fine. He's not even objectionable, just incredibly boring. He comes with a crew of entirely indistinguishable followers that I couldn't keep straight, but that's all right because most of them get killed off so I no longer had to try to remember who was who. He also develops a romance that is 100% unbelievable, but I suppose that's what action-movie-heroes do, so who's even surprised. Miller is a detective on Ceres, the largest city in the Belt, who's been hired by a rich family to track down their anarchist, slumming daughter. Miller is an incredibly cliche noir protagonist - alcoholic, divorced, not as good as he used to be, cynical, a little bit corrupt but underneath it all he still remembers his good intentions – but at least that means he has more of a personality than Jim, even if it's a personality you've seen a thousand times before. On the other hand, Miller becomes obsessed with this dead/missing girl in a way that is painfully stereotypical Manic Pixie Dream Girl. Two things kept this from ruining Leviathan Wakes for me. One, Miller is at least somewhat self-aware about it: This was why he had searched for her. Julie had become the part of him that was capable of human feeling. The symbol of what he could have been if he hadn’t been this. There was no reason to think his imagined Julie had anything in common with the real woman. Meeting her would have been a disappointment for them both. And two, there's a twist near the end that allows Julie to finally have her own voice in the text, and not exist solely as Miller's imagined dependance on her. It takes almost half the book for Miller and Holden to finally cross paths, at which point the missing-girl mystery and the war plot combine and take a twist for a direction I DID NOT SEE COMING. I am ambivalent on whether to spoil this; on the one hand, I read it unprepared and it was incredibly awesome to experience it that way. On the other hand, I suspect this is information that will be a determining factor for many people on whether they want to read it or not. So: halfway through, Leviathan Wakes takes a wild jump and becomes about a zombie outbreak. I would not have previously thought that 'space opera' and 'zombie apocalypse' are two genres that should be combined, but the tension and excitement skyrocket once the book takes this turn, transforming it from average quality to 'I CANNOT STOP READING, MUST FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT'. So, good choice! The sequence with Miller and Holden trapped on a small space station trying to sneak their way past zombie hordes is one of the most thrilling I've read in ages. Leviathan Wakes is the first book in a series (apparently it was originally supposed to be a trilogy, but there's currently eight books out with at least one more planned, along with a batch of short stories) and has also become a show on the Syfy network that I haven't seen. I feel like I've spent a lot of this review complaining, but honestly I mostly enjoyed the book and am planning to read the sequels. The fact that people seem to like the characters from future books more than these ones certainly doesn't hurt! Pig/Pork: Archaeology, Zoology and Edibility by Pia Spry-Marques. A nonfiction book about everything remotely related to the farming and eating of pigs. I expected from the subtitle and the author's personal background that archaeology would be the main focus, but it turns out that's really only the first two chapters, which cover the Paleolithic hunting of wild boar and the original domestication of pigs. The other chapters turn to topics as diverse as experiments on feeding farmed pigs leftovers from restaurants, the spread of foot-and-mouth disease, a special Spanish ham called ibérico de bellota which can only be fed acorns, genetically modifiying pigs so their manure would contain less phosporus, sunburn in pigs, minature pet pigs, organ donation between humans and pigs, the terrifying tapeworms to be acquired from eating raw pork, why pork is a 'white' meat, how to make sausages, theories on why pork is neither halal nor kosher, the use of an enzyme from pig pancreases in wine production, EU food-safety regulations on traditional pork dishes, Cuba's 'Bay of Pigs', the Pig War between the US and Canada in 1859, and Oliver Cromwell's favorite pig breed. Basically if it has the remotest connection to the title, Spry-Marques has included it. She even includes recipes for each chapter, though some of them are clearly more for amusement than actual consumption – I can't imagine anyone having just finished a chapter on how eating raw pork will give you cysts in your brain is eager to try figatellu, a type of uncooked sausage from France. And it would take a braver foodie than me to taste "Asian-inspired pork uterus with green onion and ginger". In fact, as is probably not surprising for any book which touches on factory farming however briefly, you will probably come away not wanting to eat pork at all for a while. Spry-Marques's writing is breezy and conversational, which kept me turning the pages even when the structure was a bit scattered. I wish it were more focused, but it's a great book for anyone who enjoys popular science, history, or food writing. I read this as an ARC via NetGalley. Song of Blood & Stone by L. Penelope. A YA fantasy novel with some unusual elements. Rather than being set in vaguely medieval England or a dystopian sci-fi future, we're in a country where the technology seems to be around 1900: cars and electric lights exist, but they're restricted to rich cities, and someone coming from rural poverty might well have never seen either. Magic exists, but comes from one's heritage; you're either born with it or not. In Elsira, where our story is set, it's rare to the point of nonexistence. Our heroine Jasminda, however, does have magic, due to her father having been a refugee from the neighboring country of Lagrimar, where magic is common. Elsira and Lagrimar have been constantly at war for hundreds of years, but are separated by a magical Barrier which allows no one to pass through, except on rare occasions when a temporary breach happens and violence erupts. Elsirans are light-skinned and Lagrimari are dark-skinned, so Jasminda has dealt with fairly severe racism throughout her life. The story starts when Jasminda runs across Jack, a Elsiran soldier just back from spying in Lagrimar who has super important information that must get back to the capital as soon as possible; unfortunately Jack has just been shot and is closely pursued by a troop of Lagrimari soldiers. Jasminda and Jack team up, fall in love, and try to prevent the coming outbreak of war. The most revealing thing I can say about Song of Blood & Stone is that it's very, very YA. (As you could probably guess, what with its title that fits exactly into the pattern of the 'YA title' meme currently going around tumblr.) Almost everything that happens is easily predictable from the back cover (Jack's long-withheld backstory is clearly supposed to be a shocking twist, but it's obvious from the moment he appears), the prose is mediocre but fine, good and bad guys are clearly signalled, the real world parallels (racism, treatment of refugees, domestic abuse) are good-hearted but extremely Social Justice 101. On the plus side, the beginning was the worst part and it got better and better as it went along; several developments near the very end were so interesting that I'm tempted to read the sequel, despite my initial boredom. Overall it's not a bad book, but I'd only recommend it to people who are extremely affectionate of the most repetitive tropes of the YA genre. I read this as an ARC from a GoodReads giveaway.

[DW link for easier commenting]

#books #book reviews #james s.a. corey #l. penelope #Pia Spry-Marques #archaeology

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emmatrustsno-one · 7 years

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Brace yourselves A very long essay (like, a thesis) on the British class system with references to Harry Potter Part 2

Let’s continue. Have another comedy clip showcasing how stupid the upper-class is meant to be, to get you going:

youtube

A side point: almost all the British actors celebrated by Tumblr went to private or public school and are upper-class, or upper middle-class.Here’s a buzzfeed quiz to give your brain bracing time for part 2. I got it right for the exact same reason the top commenter did! Have a look once you’ve done it! That’s another blog post in itself!

https://www.buzzfeed.com/hattiesoykan/which-of-these-british-actors-didnt-go-to-a-private-school?utm_term=.ylwEEKxnDN#.mfyBBg7oQx

Food and diet

As I mentioned in my post about food in Harry Potter, food is intricately bound up with class. Working-class people have tradtionally had a poor diet, through poverty and lack of education, and also because of the impact of the Second World War, when food was very scarce. Where I am from people were still dying of malnutrition when my dad was teenager, so in the late 1960s. Working-class people then used to cook with beef dripping as they couldn’t afford other fats, and everyone on his street shared the same pan of dripping. I am from a former industrial town with two-up, two-down terraced workers’ houses, just like Snape, so we can assume that when Snape was a child he experienced similar levels of malnutrition around him.

Things are much better now, but in the last century people used to grow a lot of their own food if they had outdoor space, steal or not eat. They could afford to buy very little and then only the cheapest foods, which are often the least nutritious. It meant that they didn’t eat big or regular meals and that there was very little variety in their diets, and no treats. JKR has a story about trying to buy a tin of baked beans, and nothing else, from the supermarket, for her daughter’s meal, and having to put it back because she didn’t have enough money. Then, tins of beans were like 10p.

When my parents were at school, all kids used to get a small carton of milk for free at breaktime to make sure they were getting enough calcium. In the 70s, Thatcher (may she rot in hell) was education secretary (this was before she was prime minister) and she stopped the milk provision, which meant that many working-class kids stopped getting a key part of their nutrition. She was too disconnected from working-class people to understand, or care, that she was taking away critical nutrition. It was a political and social scandal and she got the nickname ‘Thatcher the milk snatcher’.

Best ever comment about that evil bitch is from the comedian Frankie Boyle, who had much to say about her, but the best was on the subject of her funeral: “give everyone is Scotland a shovel and we’ll dig a hole so deep we’ll deliver her to satan personally.”

Since we don’t finish school here until after 3, schools provide a lunch, which most people have to pay for (or you can take your own). The canteens in secondary schools are usually far too small and, certainly until very recently, when Jamie Oliver started a war on school food, served repetitive, low nutrient, processed rubbish. Until the turn of the century you would be lucky to get anything other than hot dogs, turkey twizzlers, chicken nuggets, chips and pizza, and when I say pizza, I mean a square chunk of dense bread with cheese and tomato purée on it. And cake. Now schools usually do at least pasta, salad and sandwiches as well. The main problem is budget. These schools are state-maintained and are given an allowance to spend on each thing. When Jamie Oliver started his campaign against poor quality school food, the school he worked with had a budget of 13p for every child. The ‘better’ the school the better the food: public schools, whose budget comes from fees, serve the kind of food Hogwarts did. Some kids, i.e. those from very low income families, are allowed a free school meal, and for many it is their only meal of the day, even now. I work in a working-class school and trust me, at least half never get a breakfast, and many have a sandwich for the evening meal. I know one boy who is given a Nutella sandwich every evening and that is all. Theresa May, who is a wannabe Thatcher, just announced recently that she is thinking of scrapping the free school meals program. It would be a disaster for the poorest kids.

Buying cheap food isn’t the only issue. Since working-class people work so much they are too tired and busy to cook proper meals, so they often settle for ready-meals, fast-food and takeaways. Lack of education has an impact as well. People eat food for taste and convenience alone, not fully grasping that they need to eat certain things to be healthy, and as a result many go under-nourished or become obese.

There is also the issue of how to cook things – not just in terms of lack of education, but in lack of facilities. Some people don’t have a hob, or an oven, maybe even just a microwave.

Hydration is an issue as well. A lot of working-class people don’t realise how much water they need to drink to be healthy, so they are dehydrated, and their kids are as well, so they don’t have very good concentration, so they don’t do as well at school, and the cycle of lack of education continues.

Middle and upper-class people have the money, time and mental space to buy and make, or have made for them, varied, healthy foods. They have the education to eat and drink the right things. This means they are healthy and can concentrate at school or at other things and become successful.

Housing and class

Where you live is defined by, and indicative of, class. I am simplifying here, but in a nutshell, the north of England and a lot of Scotland and Wales is predominantly working-class. The further south you go, the higher the dominant class. This is because it was in the north that mills and factories were built in the Industrial Revolution, and because coal mines were up here. Many towns were built purposely to house workers of a certain factory, mill or mine. They all look the same, just with different bricks: terraced rows of small, dark houses with 2 rooms upstairs and 2 downstairs. Many have since been extended by owners to include an indoor bathroom, which would originally have been outside in an outhouse. A few people still had outdoor toilets in the 90s. The film Billy Elliot is an excellent overview of such towns and housing. If you haven’t seen it and you are interested in class, you should definitely watch it. Later on, social housing was built in the form of semi-detached houses and large blocks of flats, but detached houses have only recently become a thing for anyone other than the upper-class.

Working-class people end up living in the worst housing. Many of them rent rather than own, and that’s not as good here as in the rest of Europe. Tenants don’t have many rights and there is little regulation on landlords. Many people, right now, are living in slum housing. I am talking no flooring, unpainted walls, no heating, filth everywhere. You can either rent from a private landlord, who can do as little as he likes to make you comfortable, pretty much, or you can rent from your local council. Council housing is usually either semi-detached houses or in bigger cities flats in large blocks. The abysmal state of blocks of flats has recently been all over the news in the form of the Grenfell Tower block fire, where many people died and have had to be rehomed, simply because cheap cladding had been used on the outside of the building and the fire travelled up it like it was tissue paper. Many blocks have this same cladding on. The residents there had complained about safety many times but had been ignored. To make matters worse, there is a serious shortage of council housing across the country because fucking Thatcher (again) introduced a scheme where council tenants could buy their home if they lived in it for so long, and they could buy it for a crazily cheap price. Loads of people took advantage of it by buying their home for next to nothing, waiting a few years then selling it on for a massive profit, but of course that meant all the fucking social housing disappeared. My sister-in-law got divorced around 12 years ago and she went to the council to put her name on the list to get somewhere to live and the list was so long it took 5 years to offer her anything, and then it was the shittiest house imaginable, because that’s all they’ve got left.

They also ruin what little housing is left by a) putting loads of criminals and drug dealers etc in one place, so you end up with some estate from hell and b) putting foreign immigrants all in one place, so you end up with people who came here for asylum from either side of a civil war living next to each other, or ghettoising them so that they are abandoned and lost.

In Scotland working-class housing was, until very recently, tenement buildings, which were sort of communal flats. Families had their own rooms but had to share some of them. The stairs and communal areas were like something out of a Victorian workhouse. Slums. Here are some pictures, with info, of working-class housing in Glasgow between the 40s and 60s. Glasgow is especially woeful. I actually love the place, but there’s no denying it has been hell on earth for much of its history. I remember doing a geography project at school (mid 90s) and discovering that the life expectancy in the most working-class part of Glasgow was 54. It has gone up since, but is still below the national average: all the factors I have discussed combine to literally knock years off people’s lives.

https://www.buzzfeed.com/hilarywardle/glasgow-housing-crisis?utm_term=.apNOODpKkJ#.wn3BBNXxK4

Regarding the rows of terraces built to house industrial workers I mentioned earlier, this is exactly the sort of place Snape grew up. Here’s an example. They would have had a sitting room and kitchen downstairs and 2 bedrooms upstairs, with an outside toilet, while he was a child, and certainly no plumbed in bath or shower.

Upper-class people live in detached houses, usually historic ones like castles and former estates. They usually have multiple houses.

Middle-class housing is varied depending on whereabouts on the continuum people are. It ranges from townhouses, to large, nicer semi-detached houses, to detached houses to mansions. A key point I want to make here is that it is totally normal to have the lowliest of working-class housing, such as in the picture, and then a few minutes’ walk away, a middle-class area. Upper-class housing is always considerably separate from the other two, but working and middle are near each other. I saw a ridiculous post a few weeks ago claiming that Lily must have been poor because she lived close enough to Snape that Petunia knew who he was, but that is utter rubbish – that person can’t have been British. Nearly all towns have slummy areas and middle-class areas, and our towns are small. Also, he was doing that accidental wandless magic kids do, so no doubt he had a reputation for being a weirdo.

The mere fact that Petunia criticises Snape’s clothes proves beyond doubt that she wasn’t working-class, as in those days, everybody working-class was wearing hand-me-down clothes like that, therefore another “poor” person wouldn’t have noticed/mentioned. The punk movement’s fashion of safety pins in the 70s came about due to the simple fact that the working-class were wearing such old clothes that they were falling apart and they could only fix them with safety pins. As Johnny Rotten of the Sex Pistols said, “we had to use them – the arse was hanging off your jeans so you just had to shove a few safety pins in it.” So Petunia wasn’t poor or she would have empathised with Snape, not criticised him.

It crops up everywhere and all the time

By complete coincidence yesterday I saw a review on Amazon that completely illustrates how notions of class pervade our conscious in Britain. It was a review for a book about Freud and feminism, an academic work. It was the only negative review amongst quite a few positive ones. I’ll let you read it then I’ll discuss:

I bought a copy for a penny on Amazon and that was over spending. I have worked in the mental health field for over thirty years and have trained as a psychotherapist and am very well acquainted with Freud's work. I was shocked by how badly this author described his ideas. If I didn't already know what she was talking about I wouldn't have had a clue about what she was saying. She really seems to be someone who wants to make a somewhat complicated subject even more complicated. I stopped at the end of her second chapter as I just couldn't take anymore. I wouldn't describe her as providing the reader with an explanation, in fact one could be forgiven for viewing her writing as an attempt at deliberate confusion or if not confusion an attempt to make what Freud had written about sexuality as even more difficult to understand than it was. Perhaps I shouldn't be so surprised by this. The author is essentially taking a Lacanian position towards Freud, a position that upper middle class complicated academics have taken up. Unfortunately these are people who really don't want to accept what Freud actually wrote and instead want to impose on his writings their own wishes for what they would have preferred him to write i.e. that the unconscious is structured like a language and that word representations exist at this level, despite Freud's own writing that this isn't so. What amuses me is that author purports to be a Marxist. Given the way she writes it's clear enough that she wants to keep the uneducated working class at quite a distance. This book is in my opinion pretentious upper middle class trash. I'm giving my copy to Oxfam.

Firstly, the fact that it’s a stream of consciousness rant should tell you enough to know that it’s not trustworthy. The most important thing, though, is the linking of academic analysis with being upper middle-class. The reviewer has taken a stance on psychoanalytical ideas that is typical of the science side of the discipline. They clearly think it’s a waste of time to look for meaning beyond practical application, e.g. for literary analysis, and something only someone with time and money would do.

It goes deeper than that as well. There’s a clear derogatory link between academia and being upper middle-class and the reviewer is offended because, as a result of their lower class, they don’t understand the book. They have tried to blame the author, by throwing around intellectual names like Lacan and Marx, and showing that they are the sort of high-standing citizen that gives to charity, but ultimately, the subject matter of the book is beyond them. They have taken this to be a result of class hindrances, which it probably is. The reviewer isn’t educated or cultured enough to understand the book. This annoys them and so they are attacking those who are.

There is a perception, which is hard to explain, that the most difficult and annoying class is the middle-class. Part of this arises out of the fact that the middle-class is such a long continuum. People who are middle-class often have delusions of being very high class, even though they probably started as working-class. They are constantly competing with each other within the class. This review is, to me, a good example of that, because it’s obvious that the reviewer is lower middle-class themselves. They have a profession, they are educated at higher education level and they are reading books about Freud for fun. They are proud to be middle-class. But then this book comes along and makes them feel alienated from their own demographic. It makes them feel like an outsider; they don’t have the power to understand the book. So they attack the author for daring to show that they aren’t so high up after all.

The perception of middle-class people of being stuck-up also links to a perception that some upper-class people are easy-going and easier to get on with for working-class people than the middle-classes. The idea being, no doubt, that the upper and working classes both understand their place, they are content with who they are. But the middle-classes are always wanting to keep with the Joneses, to get better, to compete with you. Here are 3 comedy clips that illustrate my point. The first is stand-up comedy by Billy Connolly, who’s about as working-class as you can get (it’s just audio), and the others are from a 90s sketch show (bonus: the second one has the actor who plays Mr Weasley in it!)

youtube

I always felt like Gryffindor was a bit like the annoying middle-class guy comparing you to him. I can just hear Gryffindors saying “I couldn’t help but notice that I am considerably more perfect/popular than yooouuuuwww”!

In conclusion, feel free to dislike Severus all you want, but if you could stop calling him racist I would really appreciate it.

To finish (at last, I hear you cry) here is a Brief suggested watch/listen list if you interested in representations of class. They should all be accessible online.I am happy to answer questions about any of them.

TV-

Blackadder, but only series 2-4, 1 is shit (Rowan Atkinson plays a middle-class man stuck between the stupid working and upper-classes)

Harry Enfield and Chums, Little Britain (both sketch shows attacking all classes)

Only fools and horses (2 working-class brothers try to make a living by selling dodgy goods at the market)

Auf Wiedersehen, Pet (you will need subtitles – it’s about a group of guest workers in Germany and the main characters are geordies, which means from Newcastle)

The fact that these are all comedies says it all about our views of the situation.

Films – Billy Elliot (2000)

Pride (2014) (both are about the miners’ strike in the 80s, which is the most important event in recent working-class history, and both deal with LGBT themes)

East in East (1999) (about the added struggles for working-class immigrants)

The Full Monty (1997) (about unemployed working-class men stripping for money – it’s a comedy!)

Music – the album ‘Different class’ by Pulp, a band from Sheffield, a very working-class city (which I happen to love as I went to university there) which suffered terribly from the collapse of British industry since basically all the steel was made there. The film ‘The Full Monty’ is set there.

Other – any stand-up comedy (the working-class art) by the comedians Peter Kay or (pre-2000s) Billy Connolly.

Thank you and I apologise for the length!

#Harry Potter #british class system #British history #BRITISH SCHOOLS #britain vs america #snape love #snapedom #working class #@deathdaydungeon

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skeletorific · 7 years

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With that not eating request, I would absolutely love to see the reaction of HT Sans plz >w>

AHAHAHAHAHA GUESS WHO ENDED UP DOING RESEARCH AND SPENDING LIKE AN HOUR PLUS ONE SHOWER THINKING THIS THROUGH

Also apologies to anybody who can’t read this now because of it but I am gonna go full anorexia for this s/o. The possibilities were too interesting not to explore a little bit. Also I have departed somewhat from the original scenario, largely because of how I perceive Axe and his potential relationships.\

Also I don’t know if it was tyranttortoise who came up with the idea of Axe doing cannibal jokes but the idea was too good and too endearing not to (lovingly) steal

You had been lucky.

Sans had been the one to find you. His axe swung loosely at his side. He felt almost bored when he approached you. Part of him wondered when this all had become so easy. Just another human, ripe for chopping. That part of him was drowned out by a much louder voice, the screaming, empty gnawing in his stomach that had become as much a part of his life as snow and the close air of the Underground.

You had scrambled back when you saw him coming, weak words of pleading coming out of your mouth. Only Papyrus’ intervention had saved you, but even before his brother stepped in, his hand has stilled. Something about you……couldn’t put a phalange on it, but it felt….familiar. Not like the other things, things that he shouldn’t remember but did (blue and pink sweaters, a knife flashing through the Hall, flower flower flower dust). But familiar like kin. Like a connection felt in a moment.

You weren’t that strong, but you were smart. That had gotten you through Papyrus’ puzzles with little more than a few gashes. By that point, his brother had gotten fond enough of you that he asked his brother to place their protection over this too valuable morsel. Reluctantly, he’d agreed. Hadn’t been easy keeping starving fingers off you, but in fairness to you, you were fairly compliant with his safety restrictions.

The more time he spent with you, the stronger the feelings of companionship grew. Not that you talked much those first few months. Like him you seemed to prefer silence, could get quite snappish when it was intruded on. You saved your words for Papyrus. But as time went on, he thought he found the reason.

You had hollow eyes, pale skin, an empty looking face with skin that looked like it was stretched a shade too far. And he’d known.

You were someone that knew hunger as he did. Long term. The way it sat with you. Emptied you out, filled your mind while fogging it up. Tainted everything you did.

Even when you had food you never seemed to eat much of it. Unless you’d gone without for a couple of days (not exactly uncommon, but still), you seemed to only swallow a few bites before pushing it on Papyrus. Not that he’d ever complain about having to hunt for less food, but in his moments of lucidity…..it was concerning.

And he couldn’t really figure it out. You’d looked like that when he found you. What had you like that before? Surface couldn’t possibly be this bad….Either way, wasn’t really his business. Long as you ate enough that you could run when someone chased you, you could do what you liked for all he cared.

As months passed by, though, “all he cared” was turning into quite a bit. He liked you. More than he’d liked anyone in a long time. And for the most part, it seemed you liked him. Nothing you could do about it, really. Place like this you never really had the time or energy to sit down and hash out relationship terms. But without a word about it on either side you drew closer. You came with him on any excursion he didn’t explicitly ban you from. He took to sharing a bed with you. Not in….well, not in that sense (his brother was still right next door) but both of you found you slept easier with each other. Though both of you had a thousand different walls, there was a certain understanding between you. Light touches that he didn’t immediately pull back from. Small gifts, even, when it was an option.

Finally, the day came. Freedom. The Sunlight. Everything he’d given up hope of. Aliza gave it to all of them. In many ways, he couldn’t believe it. He lived each day expecting fully to wake up back in Snowdin. The fact that he continued to not do so was little more than a mildly pleasant surprise.

You stayed with the brothers. And the two of you drew closer. He found himself wanting to keep you in sight whenever possible. Without seeming to be aware of it you held his hand in public. More than once, a soft kiss exchanged in a sleepless night riddled with nightmares. Both of you had accepted this was something of a relationship, but were letting it evolve as it would. You were two damaged pieces, trying to see if your jagged edges would fit together.

And still, you weren’t eating.

Of course, like everyone else you had gorged yourself to the point of sickness when you’d first gotten topside. But after you’d settled in, it was back to tiny portions, pushing away food. And as the rest of them got healthier, the more your symptoms differentiated you. The mood swings, the fainting and dizzy spells. You got sick far too easily, slept more than you were awake, were easily winded. And he was hearing whispers when you went out in public.

“Are they okay?”

“That poor kid….”

Once a snide comment that wasn’t the human lucky, they’d found a boyfriend to match their look. For a brief moment the rage over took him and you had to pull him out of the store before anything unfortunate happened.

Sometimes it was hard to remember killing would have consequences again.

You were long past adjustment periods. And it was time for him to do some digging….

One night it finally spilled over. You were on the porch, staring out at the night sky. Both of you, for the moment at least, at some kind of peace. As his arm crept around you, he was growing more and more aware that it wouldn’t be much effort to count every bone in your face.

“Hey.” he said. You looked up at him.

“What happens when you upset a cannibal?”

“………”

“You end up in hot water.”

You stared at him for a long moment before your shoulders startled to tremble and you laughed, uncontrollable and gentle, like a river over stones. He responded with his own low chuckle.

He was possessive of that laugh. For as long he’d known you the only thing that brought it out was his jokes.

He let it die slowly as you relaxed against him, each taut muscle slowly coming undone against him. He could feel your bones pressing against him, and as familiar as it felt, he was only too aware no human should feel like this.

“and uh, speakin of eating….” His hands skated lightly up and down your side. “can’t help but notice you haven’t been doin much of it”

Well, there was that tension again. You didn’t pull away but you felt about to. “Oh?” You said, in a voice that was too casual to be honest.

“yeah.” he said. Trying to keep his own voice even. “You got something you want to tell me?”

You went silent for a full minute.

“Cus, uh, was looking online. “ He didn’t look at you, just staring out over the yard. “came across this thing called ‘anorexia nervosa’. Eating disorder. Symptoms include dizziness, mood swings, faintin, excessive thinness…..” With each symptom listed you drew away a bit, inch by inch, your shoulders slowly starting to hung up and your hands clenching in your lap. He finally looked over. “sound like someone you know?”

Your fingernails dug into your palms and you were silent for endless minutes. “Sans, I-…..its not-….I’m….”

You made the mistake of looking over. He didn’t look concerned, exactly. Sans never pried, never forced something from you that you weren’t ready to tell. But that red glowing eye…..it demanded nothing less from you than perfect honesty. The two of you had done too many horrible things to bother lying to each other. You gathered yourself, and took a deep breath.

“It….it started a long time ago.” You said. “My mom….she used to give me shit all the time about how much I weighed. I don’t even think she meant for it to…..she may have just been kidding around. But it stuck.

“When I was fourteen I started starving myself. It was stupid, I knew it was, but I just….I hated what I was seeing in the mirror everyday. At some point it stopped being about that, started being about control. It was like the hungrier I got the more obsessed I became with regulating myself. I ate enough to keep myself going. No more.

“Its funny,” you said, laughing grimly. “I spent so much of my life obsessed with not eating anything, only to fall into a world where I had no other choice.”

Was it your imagination that his arm tightened around you? Maybe, maybe not.

“So….hasn’t gone away since you came back, I take it.”

“I don’t…….” Your voice shrank somehow, like you had become smaller. “Sans, I don’t think it ever will.”

There was a lengthy silence. You felt bile rising in your throat and you hated yourself for the wave of sorrow that overtook you. Why had you told him? Why had he asked? Both of you had far too much on your shoulders without burying yourself in each other’s private problems.

The concept was rattling around in his head. Depriving yourself of food by choice? He couldn’t wrap his head around it. How fucked up would you have to be to……..Well, then again, not his world. He had to remind himself you didn’t come from a place where the scramble for any kind of sustenance was so hard monsters resented cooking for shrinking their meat.

“‘m not gonna act like I know about it.” He said after a while. “hell, I’m not the healthiest myself.” There was a knocking sound of his knuckles hitting his skull and he grinned unnervingly wide. “But I, uh…..wouldn’t give yourself as a lost cause yet.”

“……Sans-”

“‘nother thing I found online,” he said. “Couple of places where you can go, they’ll help you out. Know a lot more about this kind of thing than I do.”

“I’ve tried them before, they never take.”

“Well, back then you just had your shitty mom waiting for you.” There was a hard edge in his voice that made you look up. “Now you’ve got Paps, Ali, m-…….”the word stuck in his throat before he finally just said “all of us. Got people worth feelin better for.”

……Had he meant to say me. Your SOUL warmed instantly but you didn’t call him out on it. “Yeah……maybe.”

“Look, sweetheart,” the pet name took you by surprise and you didn’t resist when his hand drew your chin up to look at him properly. “I promised Paps I’d keep ya fed, didn’t I? And much as I hate makin promises…..I don’t intend to break this one.”

There was something in his eyes, some unspoken words that you felt in some spot in your chest. You held his gaze for a long moment.

“…..Okay.”

You leaned back against his shoulder and his arm returned to your waist. The coming months, you knew, would be hell, a hell of conselors and soul-baring and everyone hovering over you like a sick lamb.

But for now, there was silence, and the steadiness of his warmth. And for a moment, the hunger was far, far behind. For both of you.

“Hey,” he said. “What do you do for a starving cannibal?”

“Sans, I swear to-”

“You give him a helping hand.”

“I fucking can’t.”

#anorexia #eating disorder #tw #horrortale #ht!sans #minific #headcanon

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antscale3-blog · 5 years

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North Philly auto body shop engulfed by fire racked up safety violations prior to blaze

A North Philadelphia auto body shop that exploded into flames on Monday operated for years without proper permits or safety measures in place, according to city records.

At least 14 fire and permit violations remained unresolved and open when the fire started near a pile of tires and rubbish in the early hours of the morning. It took firefighters three hours to control the blaze. The Fire Department isn’t reporting any injuries but the blaze sent a cocktail of harmful, toxic pollutants into the air.

Deputy Philadelphia Fire Chief James Renninger told news media that the flames were especially dangerous because all of the chemicals contained in an auto shop.“You can imagine: An auto body shop has oxy-acetylene torches, fuel, chemicals. If something were to explode with any of our personnel in there, it could be hazardous," Renninger told KYW News Radio.

The cause of the fire remains under investigation, said Kathy Matheson, a Fire Department spokeswoman.

The shop, located on the corner of W. Sedgley and Allegheny avenues in Fairhill, lacked permits and had flouted at least 12 fire code regulations since May of 2016, according to the Department of Licenses and Inspections’ website. The building, which includes a store and an insurance office, has 13 sets of violations dating back to 2010.

L&I records show that a large number of Philadelphia auto shops operate without proper licenses or permits. Some operate illegally within residential areas, creating problems for neighbors. In these areas, people tend to complain because the shops dump oil in the streets, spray paint in the open air and occupy sidewalks with cars and junked auto parts. Piles of tires, like the one that lit up Monday, are a persistent problem, records show.

Karen Guss, an L&I spokeswoman, said the agency attempted to take the auto shop’s owner, Tobias Gonzalez to court but could not track him down. It’s a common problem, she said.

“They don’t give you the correct contact information, or they move, or they sell the business,” Guss said. “It’s very frustrating for the community, and we also get frustrated because it is what we’re here to do.”

Russell Zerbo, an advocate with the Clean Air Council, said city inspectors respond to complaints by visiting sites and ticketing for violations but most operators pay their fines and continue to operate, business as usual. Sometimes, it takes a disaster to stop a business or change its operating procedures.

“[This fire] is not an uncommon occurrence,” Zerbo said.

Six fires were caused by auto-related business in the city — three in North Philly and three in the Southwest in 2018, he said.

“Any fire releases carbon monoxide and dioxide, but a fire burning hazardous waste...would release mercury, heavy metals like lead and cadmium, in addition to particulate matter 2.5 and sulfur dioxide,” Zerbo said. “It is worse than living next to the refinery or the nastiest coal plants around, because there’s no industrial processes, it’s just an open fire of hazardous waste on the grounds of the site.”

Guss said the city can close a business if it believes there’s an imminent danger, but that wasn’t the case with the Fairhill property. The agency acts upon complaints, and according to Guss, there have been no complaints for almost three years.

Last September, the operator of a junkyard that caught fire in Kensington got a 95 percent reduction on its fire code violation fines.

Monday’s fire broke out close to Amtrak train tracks, which SEPTA also uses for the Chestnut Hill West and Trenton regional rail lines. SEPTA says trains that passed through the area were on a speed restriction.

Source: http://planphilly.com/articles/2019/03/11/north-philly-auto-body-shop-engulfed-by-fire-racked-up-safety-violations-prior-to-blaze

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more

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alliance-recruitment-agency-blog · 5 years

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In another article I just wrote, we should instead use every tool at our disposal to protect ourselves acknowledge that what is going on in Nigeria at Gate 2 might happen anywhere

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berrykookie · 7 years

Text

Found You! - Part 1

Genre: Mafia!AU - Taehyung Centric Word Count: 2.6k

Safety purposes.

Those two words rung in your ears as you looked at you ID card before scanning it and entering through the iron gates of the college.

It was your first day at college, first day out of your house without bodyguards, and the first where you actually felt a little free.

The memory of the day when your father had talked to you about moving to another city was still as fresh as yesterday’s in your mind. ‘I think you’re ready to go to college on your own, Y/N, without any bodyguards,’ he had said. Why wouldn’t it be for a girl who had stayed home all her life?

For details, your father was the founder and owner the huge Lee Corporation, and even then, you had never lived that princess life every classmate of yours used to talk about. Instead, it was more like that of a prisoner, confined to just the four walls of your room. The huge mansion that your father owned? Yes, he owned one, he and his men, not you or your mother.

No words could describe how much you had waited for this day, for college was your ticket to a free and happy life. You were excited, even though you would be two years ahead of probably all your fellow mates.

It was another one of your father’s decision – which you never really regretted – for you to get a two year break after your school ended, just so he could get you trained for ‘self defence purposes’. You were initially amused, but once you knew that he was dead serious about it, you gave in, giving it your all.

Here you were, after two years, probably going to be late because of how much time you had spent just thinking what all had happened.

You ran to the main building to check what classroom you were supposed to report to. There wouldn’t really be any schedule, you knew, for it was just your first day.

As you had expected, you were a little late, not by the time actually, but seeing how the class was fully packed and all the seats were taken, you figured that the students came earlier on their first day, unlike you.

You tried to search for a place to sit, and luckily there was one empty seat beside a boy in the second last row. Once you were seated, you looked at the one sitting by your side, and he immediately turned his eyes to you. By looks, it seemed like he was older than you, taking that he was literally dressed in a shirt and trousers instead of jeans like every other person present. But then he suddenly smiled that rectangular smile of his that made him look so much younger, almost as old as a teenage boy.

“Hi, I’m Taehyung,” he introduced and beamed at you, waving his hand all so slightly at you.

“Um...hi, I’m Y-Sohyun! Jung Sohyun,” you quickly corrected yourself, and mentally cursed yourself for making a blunder on the very first day. That was right; you weren’t Y/N anymore, well for at least your stay in college. You were Jung Sohyun, a name that your father chose for you for safety purposes.

Sometimes you wondered if these safety measures were really necessary, but then you knew quite well that your father didn’t have the best occupation. With the way he had always kept you and your mother away from business, the way you knew just little near to nothing what your father made the deals about in all those meetings, you were more than sure that his business was shady, too dark to be told.

“Ah, I have a hyung w-well, never mind.” He was so cheery when he had started, but then it looked like he was reminded of something and stopped immediately and instead changed the subject. “Where are you from?”

“Me, here only,” you lied with a smile, for safety purposes, remember?

He didn’t get a chance to ask another question, for then the teacher was arriving and everyone was standing up and bowing to greet him. He introduced you about the college, rules and regulations and gave you your schedule for the coming weeks.

With just some introductions and talking a little to Taehyung, the day was coming to an end and it definitely went better than you had imagined. You always thought that talking to people would be difficult for you, since you never really had any experience with someone you could call friend, but it was as if all of Taehyung’s radiant energy was being transferred to you and you were able to be somewhere near friends with someone for once.

When you reached home, the first thing you did was to call your father, as he had asked you to do every day after you come back home, but he never mentioned if it was for safety purpose as well.

“How did things go?” he asked as soon as he picked your call, giving – rather wasting – no time to greetings. You knew that you and your father had never been what one would call close, but he could have at least greeted you.

“Alright, nothing special,” you replied, filling him on the details of the day.

The next days you were more than relieved to know a person you could grab a seat beside.

“Hey,” you greeted Taehyung as you settled in your seat, trying your hardest to sound calm and normal; initiating conversations had never been your thing. What happened next took you by surprise. He only spared you a glance, without a word before he went back to whatever he was doing with his pen.

Was he the same boy you had met just yesterday? He was acting cold, and he seemed just... different. You didn’t utter a word to him for that lecture, and the next one, and not even in the next two days, and neither did he.

Though you wanted to be away from him for treating you the way he did, and was doing, you couldn’t quite settle on the thought of switching seats. It made your heart pump blood at a higher rate. It was the third day when you reluctantly sat beside him, for another day without a word.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, and your head instantly turned to his direction.

You decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. You turned your head away after sparing him just a single glance – now making you two even – annoyed at how he was able to change personalities so quickly.

“I was just in a bad mood. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk.” Seriously? You were angry now. Was he really mistreating you and then saying he was completely alright with you not talking to him.

You turned to look at him, “Being in a bad mood doesn’t give you the right to mistreat me,” you said through gritted teeth.

“First, I did say that I’m sorry. Second, I didn’t really mistreat you, I just simply didn’t talk,” he said with a nonchalant shrug, and you realised he was somewhat correct. Seeing how he was going that careless about you, you knew you would have to give in first. You couldn’t lose him, after all.

“Fine, it’s okay. But don’t take it out on me next time,” you complained.

“You should be thankful I didn’t actually take it out on you,” he gave you a tight lipped smile, as if trying to make you understand his point without coming off too rude.

Was he the same childish person? He seemed more like a boy who knew too much, who had his way with words, and who just didn’t take things for what they were not, a grown up boy at that.

You only stared at him in response and let the conversation die there. You did not want to argue further, for obvious reasons: he was right.

The rest of the day was normal, with you two sharing occasional conversations about each other’s whereabouts and with you being extra careful of what you were saying. You got to know he lived not so far from your college, with his family.

You followed your daily routine of calling your father the first thing after reaching home. Though you weren’t really sure if Taehyung was the person you should be talking about with your father, you found yourself telling everything you had known about him. It wouldn’t really do any harm, would it?

The time was passing considerably smooth with Taehyung. You two were getting close, and you finally figured that Taehyung carried a lot of personalities inside him, the mature one, the childish one, the cocky one, the cruel one, the cold one and the list was endless. You were slowly learning to deal with his different sides, occasionally leaving him alone to deal with himself when the situation demanded.

Your father was being constantly updated about you, your college life and also your best friend, Taehyung. He would occasionally warn you to not to dwell in him and his life too much, and focus on your work. But you always found yourself forgetting about his warnings when you were with him.

It was a normal day at college, well, maybe, not so normal with the recent news of robbery of a nearby bank for a huge sum of money floating around the campus. The news channels were warning everyone to stay home after sunset because the robbery was supposedly committed by a mafia gang, and people belonging to such gangs weren’t so nice if they find you alone.

You wouldn’t lie to the fact that you were scared of walking home alone that evening, no matter how much trained for self defence you were. If they were really a mafia they’d take you down easily. So you thought that maybe Taehyung could help you? You decided to ask him once the class was over. It was the last lecture, and he wouldn’t really turn you down, you thought.

“Taehyung,” you called his name while you two were walking side by side to the front gate. “Can I ask you for a favour?” you asked him, a bit nervous for some reason.

“Yes?” he raised both his eyebrows.

“Can you, maybe, walk me home today?” you asked him and he immediately stopped in his tracks.

“Umm...Why?” he asked.

“Well, you know that robbery and the news...” you stopped midsentence, because now you were more than sure he was going to refuse.

“I’m sorry, Sohyun, but I have to turn up somewhere early today evening. It isn’t all that dangerous, I suppose. Just walk fast and straight ahead, and maybe you can call me if something’s wrong.” As if! Why was he giving you stupid suggestions? Besides that, his house was in the way and on the same road you took for yours, he could have at least walked you till there and then maybe you would have managed the rest of the way alone; but never mind, not that you were going to ask him again.

“That’s okay, I’ll manage,” you said with a not so genuine smile and started making your way towards the iron gates and your house.

You kept walking, and thought about how you could at least throw some kicks and punches here and there if the situation arrived and then make a run for it. But the need never rose. You were safely home with your especially long strides.

The next day, Taehyung didn’t even ask you if you had been home safely. Sure you were in one piece and looked completely fine but the boy could have at least asked.

Maybe it was the unaccepted embarrassment of being turned down the previous day or if was because he didn’t even care to ask, you were bubbling up with what you figured was anger. You knew it shouldn’t bother you, but your nerves refused to settle. Maybe that was the reason behind what happened next.

You were walking to your next class in quick strides with Taehyung following behind you when a guy’s shoulder bumped into you oh so hard.

“Fuck!” you hissed as a painful vibration travelled through your shoulder to your limbs. And then you were turning around at the speed of light and holding the guy by the collar before he could walk too far.

“Next time, watch while you walk!” you spat, kneeing him in the groin. He was immediately wincing in pain as he bowed down and cupped his hands over it.

Before any more of a scene could be created, you resumed your walk towards your classroom, completely unaware of the wide eyed Taehyung that was trailing behind you like a lost puppy, staring at the back of your head in utter shock.

He composed himself before he let out the next words.

“I don’t understand why you needed me to walk you yesterday,” his voice came out smaller than he had expected.

You stopped to turn around and look at him for any signs of mischief. There were none, though.

“What do you want to say?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I mean, you seem capable enough to handle things on your own.” He scratched the back of his neck as he said that. You only smirked at him before crossing the corridor and entering the class.

Taehyung, though he wouldn’t admit to you, couldn’t help but be intrigued with that side of yours. That was completely different than the almost helpless one he had seen the day before when you had asked him to walk you home, or the girly one when you talked to him every day, and he surely wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.

Days were passing way fast for your comfort, and soon, your semester exams were approaching. You didn’t want to study, but you didn’t want to fail either. So you and Taehyung had decided to study together after college. You didn’t want to invite him to your place, unsure of how your father would react to it, and according to Taehyung, his family was not so comfortable with having a girl over. The two of you had finally decided that the college cafeteria would be the best place, since it was open even after college hours.

Just two weeks were left to examination, and you and Taehyung were just trying to gobble up every chapter as fast as you could.

You were beyond frustrated because of a particular math problem that just seemed out of your hands. You weren’t even able to move a variable, let alone solve it. Taehyung wasn’t really helping either, with the tantrums he threw time and again about not feeling like studying, and that you should probably call it a day.

“You need to study to pass the exams, Taehyung,” you scolded him lightly, but seriously enough to try and bring his attention back to the problem.

“I’m not here to study these problems and pass some stupid exams,” he shrugged, and you looked at him, convinced that it was just another tantrum of his, but then the look on his face was saying something completely different.

“What are you here for then?” you folded your arms over your chest, expecting a playful reply from him, but with the way he hesitated his words, you were confused.

Before Taehyung could think twice, his eager mouth was already spilling out words he probably shouldn’t have said.

“I might be...well, looking for someone,” he shrugged, and then, again, his signature smirk was playing on his lips.

#bangtan boys #bts mafia au #taehyung mafia au #bts taehyung #bts scenario #bts fanfic #taehyung scenario #found you!#part 1 #bts gang au

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echoboots · 7 years

Text

Whose Safety? An Early Analysis of the Enhanced Public Safety Executive Order

(This is the second installment of a series of articles unpacking the many executive orders issued in Donald Trump’s first week of office. Click here to read the first installment, on the Border Security Executive Order. Though I am not an immigration specialist, I am a legal generalist working with indigent populations professionally full-time. This article is not intended to form an attorney-client relationship or constitute legal advice, though it is my hope that it will help people understand what is going on.)

Either I love my country or I hate myself, because here I am drafting another essay at 9:45 PM. (Or both. Possibly both.) At any rate, it’s an oft-quoted maxim that the more innocuous a law’s title is, the more insidious the actual contents are— and the Executive Order on Enhancing Public Safety in the Interior of the United States is no exception to this rule.

There’s some familiar language from the other executive order:

The creation of 10,000 ICE officer positions, despite the general hiring freeze in place for all federal positions. This one sounds an awful lot like the 5,000 border patrol jobs created in the other executive order from today.

The Secretary of Homeland Security may deputize any and all state and local police infrastructure of the United States as Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers. I think the language of this provision is literally exactly the same, though I suppose I can’t fault them for recycling it.

Much like we’re repealing “catch and release,” we’re also repealing the Priority Enforcement Program. The order reinstates the Secure Communities program, which was in place from 2008–2014, and is generally much more aggressive about sending people into ICE custody when they are charged with crimes. Given that the program arrested 3,600 American citizens, I can’t say I’m excited about the change, but nor can I say it’s all that surprising.

Some of the provisions, however, are very different:

In general, there is a lot more rhetoric involved, especially in the initial sections. I personally don’t believe these sections are rooted in fact or otherwise worth repeating — there’s little substance to be gleaned, except perhaps for the insight they show into the administration itself. I suppose it might be worth reviewing the Purpose section if you want to get good and angry about something. I’m noting some general fact-checking below, both to educate and to help myself feel better about the world.

Unlike the previous executive order, which at least presumed illegal entry into the country, this executive order contemplates immigrants who have engaged in no illegal activity. In addition to the general provisions about criminal conviction, Section 5 also discusses a variety of other categories of immigrant — almost all of which are very vague and have obvious problems with enforcement. If nothing else, it’s not clear how the factual findings necessary to determine someone belongs to one of these categories would even be made, and it seems to largely be left to the officer’s discretion. Here’s the full list:

(b) Have been charged with any criminal offense, where such charge has not been resolved;

(d) Have engaged in fraud or willful misrepresentation in connection with any official matter or application before a governmental agency;

(e) Have abused any program related to receipt of public benefits;

(f) Are subject to a final order of removal, but who have not complied with their legal obligation to depart the United States; or

(g) In the judgment of an immigration officer, otherwise pose a risk to public safety or national security.

This executive order talks about consequences for so-called sanctuary jurisdictions — and both the status of a “sanctuary jurisdiction” and the appropriate sanction are determinations that the federal government gets to make. The Attorney General and the Secretary of Homeland Security, to be more precise. They also have the power to exempt cities from these sanctions, despite finding a city to be a sanctuary jurisdiction, for the purpose of funding more law enforcement. About the only good thing I can say about this provision is that the ACLU has probably already filed a request for injunctive relief from it.

This executive order literally requires the Secretary of Homeland Security to publish weekly reports documenting “criminal acts by aliens” and what jurisdictions are “failing to honor” detainers for those people. Weekly reports. Of all immigrants charged with crimes. For every single jurisdiction in the United States. I hope General Kelly wasn’t planning on sleeping anytime in 2017.

The administration is creating a special Office for Victims of Crimes Committed by Removable Aliens. It’s not clear what this office would actually do, other than issue quarterly reports on what it’s doing — the order just says it has to “ provide proactive, timely, adequate, and professional services to victims of crimes committed by removable aliens and the family members of such victims.” I can’t even imagine what this is going to look like, for reasons I’ll describe below.

The AG and Secretary of Homeland Security also apparently have to create quarterly reports documenting the immigration status of everybody being held pretrial basically anywhere. It includes federal systems, state systems, “local detention centers,” and U.S. Marshall federal pretrial custody. So that’ll be fun to get done with a skeleton staff during a hiring freeze.

The order specifically exempts immigrants being detained from the Privacy Act of 1974, which I’m honestly not even sure they can do. This is another provision that the ACLU has probably already filed a request for injunctive relief about — it’s essentially changing legislative law, which the Supreme Court generally frowns upon. At any rate, this provision needs to exist in order for the order of public weekly reports to be at all legal, because it would otherwise be subject to the Privacy Act. So if this provision tanks, presumably the weekly criminal charge reports and quarterly immigration status reports would go down in flames as well. You know, if they haven’t already been doused in gasoline and napalm by an irate Secretary of Homeland Security who doesn’t have time for this nonsense.

Some general fact-checking of note (in case it’s helpful to you, and before I rupture something):

As I mentioned above, this particular executive order contains a plethora of misinformation and downright propaganda. In the interests of clarification and also not punching nearby walls, I would like to unpack some of it for you:

There is no evidence to suggest that immigrants commit crimes at greater rates than citizens; in fact, all relevant studies show they commit crimes at lower rate due to higher risk exposure. I can personally confirm this through professional experience, but since I would never encourage you to simply take my word for it, here are somearticles on the matter.

There is no evidence to suggest that sanctuary practices “destroy the fabric of the Republic” or “have caused immeasurable harm to the American people.” Putting aside the fact that there have been no studies done on this to date, it doesn’t even make intuitive sense — by definition, sanctuary practices are only enacted in circumstances where the local government believes it would be disruptive to their governance and general public safety to comply.

There is no evidence to suggest that people who are out of status represent a greater threat to society than people who are present legally or are citizens. In fact, many people who are out of status in the United States don’t even know they are out of status, because they have failed to comply with confusing regulations and believe they are here legally.

There is no evidence to suggest that complaining witnesses in crimes with immigrant defendants require special protections. Again, immigrant populations don’t even commit crimes at the same rates as citizen populations, likely due to higher risk exposure. And when people who immigrate do commit crimes, there’s very little commonality in the charges, which means there’s also very little commonality in the victim populations. This is like creating an office to study Victims Named Bruce.

It is literally the current structure of immigration law to “exempt classes or categories of removable aliens from potential enforcement” based on circumstance and public safety risk. That is how humanitarian-based special status works. Asylum status, refugee status, SIJ status, humanitarian parole, T visas, and U visas all function as form of exemptions, which means this executive order is literally saying that we cannot faithfully execute immigration laws if we faithfully execute immigration laws.

As several news sources have insinuated, this is likely not the last executive order we’ll see this week on the topic of immigration. I’ll continue to write about executive orders as I am able, though I think two articles is my upper limit for one evening. If you’ll excuse me, I have a date with my pocket constitution and a bottle of scotch, and I’m told it’s rude to keep either of them waiting.

#politics #immigration #deportation #unpacking executive orders

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jackswimmermann · 7 years

Text

You Know I Was Down For You...Chap. 3

Fandom: Check, Please! Pairing: Adam “Holster” Birkholtz/Justin “Ransom” Oluransi Rating: T Note: The Oluransi and Birkholtz families make an appearance in this chapter. I may actually love their sisters more than them oops.

“Holster, do you have plans tonight?” He looked up from his daydreaming when Jack called out to him.

“Rans is coming into town. Other than that I guess not. Why?”

“Why don’t the two of you come over for dinner?”

“You know we can’t say no to Bitty’s cooking.”

Jack nodded as if he expected as much. “How about eight o’clock?”

“It’s a date.”

AO3: x

[1][2][Chapter 4]

Adam’s mother bustled around the kitchen prepping for dinner while he made himself comfortable at one of the tall chairs of the island. He had offered help, but much like Bitty in the Haus, his small, blonde mother promptly ushered him out of her way.

Setting up a cutting board with carrots and celery, Katherine placed herself at the island across from her son. She started chopping like she was preparing food to feed an army.

“It just feels so…sudden.” Katherine complained in the midst of her chopping frenzy. Adam tried not to laugh.

“I’m a 24-year-old, college graduate. How sudden can this really be?” Adam reached for the beer in front of him but his mother swiped it first, leveling him with a challenging look. He settled back in his chair in surrender. “Besides, Maggie’s been up my ass for years asking when I’ll finally move out so she can get her own room.”

Adam’s step-sister, Margaret, turned around to stick her tongue out at him before returning to her fridge-raid.

“If it wasn’t for the Haus I probably would have been looking for a place by Samwell after sophomore year.” Adam continued.

“Well…yes, but I’m sure you would have been looking with your boyfriend then. Now you’re gonna be all alone in a new city.”

Adam sighed, running a hand over his face and counting to ten. “I’m a big boy now, Ma, I think I can take care of myself. And for the last time, Ran-Justin is not my-”

“Oh I know, I’m sorry.” Katherine, having run out of vegetables to chop, started in on a loaf of bread Elizabeth, another one of Adam’s younger sisters, had brought home from the bakery.

A text notification interrupted the lull in conversation. Ransom. Maggie made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whip cracking, before fleeing the kitchen.

Elizabeth, who had been sitting behind Adam at the dining room table cleared her throat. “She just uh,”

“Yeah, I know.”

His mother, finally, put down her knife.

“Alright. What exactly is the plan?”

Adam shifted in his seat. “Justin and I are meeting at Niagara Falls like we did every year for Samwell. Then we’re cutting across to Boston first so he can get settled with-” Katherine sent him a sharp look. Katherine had never been a fan of hockey nicknames and refused to use them around the house. She absolutely did not believe Adam whenever he insisted no one knew Shitty’s first name. “Uh...Knight and then down to Providence so we can spend some time together before Falconers’ practice starts. Depending on how long everything takes at the Falls and in Boston I might head to Providence a little before him to start getting the apartment in order, but otherwise that’s the plan.”

“Do you already have your apartment?” Elizabeth piped up, abandoning her laptop to sit beside Adam at the island. Elizabeth had been gone most of the summer for some kind of volunteer work she was doing with the education department of SUNY. She had only just gotten back two weeks ago and was a little out of the loop about everything. Though with the way his mother was acting, one would think Adam had left everyone out of the loop.

Not that he had been making a habit of that or anything lately.

Adam nodded, pulling out his phone to show Elizabeth some of the pictures he had taken the last time he was in Providence. A few weeks prior, Adam had gone down to Providence again to meet with the real-estate agent Jack had introduced him to before. Ransom had some kind of family reunion the same weekend so he couldn’t come with but Adam kept him on a video chat for all the walkthroughs. Ransom typed up Excel sheets as they went along and helped Adam make a decision before he headed back to Buffalo.

His mother, who had already seen the pictures many times, came around to look at the pictures with Elizabeth. Adam rolled his eyes, but let them look, answering any of their questions as best he could.

“We’re going too.” His mother finally said, going around to the fridge to get out the marinated chicken for dinner while he gaped at her.

“I'm sorry, you're doing what?”

“We’re going to Providence. Four extra pairs of hands will do you better than just one or two setting up an apartment. And I still need to give it my seal of approval. I'm mad enough you made these big choices without telling me, your mother, the least you can give me is a chance to make sure you're living okay.”

Adam looked to Elizabeth for some kind of confirmation that he wasn't imagining this. She smiled at him, shrugging as she handed back his phone.

“Oh you and Justin can have your date and you can relax in Boston with...your friend. We’ll just go ahead to Providence and start setting up the apartment. Then you only have to worry about putting your personal touch on things when you get there.”

Adam stood up instinctively to help when his mother started getting out pots and pans as she talked. She thrust some of the larger ones that were in her way into his hands.

“That’s a really nice…offer but mom you don’t have to-”

“I am offering nothing, Adam.” Katherine jabbed at him with a small frying pan. “I am your mother and I am telling you what is going to happen. Now go set the table.”

Adam shared an incredulous look with Elizabeth.

“Did I just get ordered into accepting her help?”

_X_

The first Oluransi Adam saw when he arrived at Niagara Falls was not Ransom but Mr. Oluransi, at the family car, rummaging around for something. For a moment Adam sat in his car, unsure if that was truly the Oluransi’s old, beat-up mini-van Ransom swore was safer than it looked or if he had imagined it. However, there was no mistaking the middle aged man who appeared from the car a few minutes later triumphantly brandishing a digital camera. Ransom was very nearly the spitting image of his father. Twenty more years and a few less squats and there was Ransom’s future.

Slinging his backpack over his shoulder Adam climbed out of his car and waved. “Mr. O!”

Mr. Oluransi turned towards him, smiling and waving when he saw him. “Adam! Glad to see you made it. Safe drive?”

Adam smiled, letting the older man pull him into a hug. “Of course.”

As they walked Mr. Oluransi launched into the story of the family’s drive to the falls and why he was out at the car instead of admiring the view with his family complete with changing voices and wild arm movements. It wasn’t a very complicated tale but by the time the two caught up with the other Oluransis Adam was wiping tears from his eyes, face red from laughter. Mr. Oluransi was good at that. He had a knack for story-telling like no one else Adam had ever met. It was hard not to feel comfortable around him, especially while in the middle of his storytelling.

Mrs. Oluransi met up with them first, stopping the two men to give Adam a once over before pulling him in for a hug and a kiss on both cheeks.

“Adam I swear you look taller every time I see you.”

“And Joyce, my one true love, you look more beautiful every time I see you.” Adam replied, catching her hand to place a kiss on the back of it. Mrs. Oluransi, Joyce, laughed tossing her head back while she waved him off. Adam bit back a smile. Ransom may have looked like his father but his laugh was 100 percent from his mother.

“You boys are ridiculous I tell you, completely insane.”

Adam turned to wink at Mr. Oluransi, who he never quite felt right referring to as Jay despite Mr. Olurnasi’s insistence. “I haven’t forgotten about you however Mr. O, Joyce may be my one true love but you are my favorite, my hero, my-” Mr. Oluransi swatted at him. He was trying to keep his expression schooled to something serious and disapproving but Adam could see the twinkle in his eye.

“I thought Justin said you grew out of flirting with everything that moves.” An arm linked up with his, tugging him away from Ransom’s parents. He turned to find Ransom’s older sister, Jessica, pulling him towards the falls with a determined expression.

“Does it count as flirting if everything I say is genuine?” Adam shot back. Jess rolled her eyes.

“I don’t care what you call it as long as you hurry it up. I actually have stuff to do today, but mom insisted I stick around for pictures so flirt or woo my parents afterwards, please.”

Adam bat his eyes at her. “Anything for you, Jess.”

Ransom and his younger sister, Jasmine, were looking down at the falls leaning, probably, much further than safety regulations would recommend over the rails. Adam couldn’t hear what they were saying over the rush of water, but Jasmine was gesturing at different parts of the falls and the two looked to be talking a mile a minute. Jessica whistled to get their attention.

Ransom turned his 100-watt smile on Adam when he saw them and Adam felt his pulse spike. He could only pray Jessica wasn’t paying close attention to him and his weird behavior. It had obviously been too long since Ransom & Holster were together if his body started reacting weirdly. Ransom moved away from the railing and was headed towards them when a solid weight ran into Adam, knocking him to the side. Jessica quickly released her hold on his arm. He managed to stay on his feet but just barely. He righted himself, looking back at Jasmine from where she clung to his back.

“How!? How did that still not knock you over?” Jasmine complained, thumping his chest half-heartedly. “I’ve been working out all year.”

“Well I guess you still have a way to go.”

Jasmine groaned, knocking her head against his. “It’s not fair. I got Justin with that when he came home.”

Adam tsked, shaking his head at Ransom while he tried in vain to deny Jasmine’s claim.

“Jasmine Elise what do you think you’re doing?” Joyce scolded as the Oluransi parents joined them. Grumbling Jasmine wiggled off of his back.

“I’ll get you one day Birkholtz.”

“I look forward to it.” Adam held out a hand towards Mr. Oluransi. “I’d be happy to take those pictures for you.”

Adam managed to get quite a few pictures of the Oluransi family and different combinations of parents and children before Joyce managed to wave over someone else and ask them to take the pictures for them. For the next ten minutes Adam was shifted around, smiling into the camera with the rest of them. When the stranger finally returned the camera to Mr. Oluransi, Jessica was practically running in place she was so antsy.

“I’m going to be so late.” She moaned, trying to sound as miserable as she possibly could. The Oluransi parents were suddenly very absorbed in their camera. Rolling her eyes Jessica turned her attention back to Ransom, pulling him into a tight hug. “You’re gonna do great Justin.” Ransom smiled, curling himself around his sister’s smaller form and whispering his thanks. A camera shutter sounded a few feet away.

Jessica broke their embrace to press a kiss to Ransom’s forehead. She turned to Adam, punching him on the arm, lightly. “Congrats on the draft.”

Adam wrapped Jessica in a hug, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek despite her groans. “Ugh. The second little brother I never wanted.”

The Oluransis, and Adam, waved farewell to Jessica as she flew to her car, muttering about appointment times all the while.

Mr. Oluransi turned back to the family, clapping his hands together. “How about letting us take you boys to an early dinner before you hit the road?”

Ransom and Adam exchanged looks. That wasn’t exactly the normal routine for their Niagara Falls trip but neither was the entire Oluransi family joining them, or their impromptu photo shoot.

“We just have to do one last thing,” Adam said, pulling out his phone. Ransom nodded, pulling Adam towards the railings without another word to his family.

A few minutes later Mr. and Mrs. Oluransi and Jasmine, followed by Ransom and Adam left Niagara Falls in search of an early dinner.

And across the country the Samwell Men’s Hockey team was receiving two snapchats, one from Ransom and one from Adam, of their annual selfie at Niagara Falls.

_X_

“You’re late!” Shitty called down from his balcony as they pulled up roughly eight hours later. Someone else in the complex called for him to shut up. “Thought you boys had gotten lost.”

Adam rolled his eyes, climbing out of the car. Ransom followed suit, muttering something under his breath.

A different neighbor climbed out onto their balcony and looked up at Shitty.

“Some of us are trying to have a peaceful night, Knight. This isn’t a frat house. Keep it down.”

Shitty’s eloquent reply consisted of two middle fingers.

Adam shared a look with Ransom. “Are you sure you want to room with him? We could leave now while he’s distracted.”

“I heard that Birkholtz!” Shitty called down, turning his two finger salute to the blond. “Keep it up and you’ll sleep in the car.”

Adam grinned. “Bro, NHL remember? I can actually afford to just go get a room.”

Shitty waved him off. “Bullshit, you haven’t done squat yet. Give me a minute and I’ll be down to help carry stuff up.”

Adam turned to Ransom again, holding up the keys. “Last chance.”

Ransom shoves his shoulder, swiping the keys. “Shut up, Holtzy. Grab a bag.”

Thankfully between the three boys it only takes two trips to get everything of Ransom’s from Adam’s car to Shitty’s apartment. Mostly because Shitty’s guest room was already furnished with all the necessary furniture and Ransom just needed to bring his necessary personal belongings. Adam was dropping off the last box, an extra, yet-to-be-assembled bookcase from IKEA, when Ransom and Shitty started arguing in the living room.

“Would you just tell me how much the damn rent is already?” Ransom was pleading. Adam couldn’t help but think he sounded like Jack when Shitty was being particularly difficult.

“For the last time Oluransi, I’m not taking your money!”

Ransom had explained to Adam during the car ride that Shitty was particularly unforthcoming with information about the apartment despite having offered his spare room to Ransom so the new med student wouldn’t have to look for an apartment. Adam moved to lean against the doorway while the two bickered.

“Shits, I don’t want to mooch off of you would you please-”

“You’re not. We are both equally mooching off of my obscenely well-endowed parents. If they suddenly lose all of their money and we run the risk of being homeless, then we can talk rent.”

Ransom made a low, frustrated noise and turned to Adam. “Holtzy.”

He shrugged. “We all know how you can get when you’re stressed Rans, maybe it’s best that you can tackle this first year without having to worry about a job or bills.”

Ransom looked highly insulted. “You’re taking his side?”

Adam held up his hands in surrender, turning on his heel. “I’m…gonna go see about setting up this bookcase.”

Half a bookcase, two rants, and four beers later the boys fell into bed in a mess of limbs and mismatched sheets. Shitty hung around long enough to get teary eyed, whispering about missing his boys, before he finally decided there was more comfort to be found in his room.

Adam still had his glasses on and he could feel his arm starting to fall asleep under him but he felt too tired to move. “I really thought the three of us would be sharing for a while there.”

Ransom responded with a quiet, airy laugh. He settled heavily against Adam, evidently unbothered by the extra metal and glass stuck to Adam’s face. Adam shifted and his free arm naturally went around Ransom. The room was quiet save for their matched breathing and the soft puttering of the overhead fan. It was nice. Closing his eyes, he could feel himself starting to drift off. The sheets smelled like the Oluransi house and Ransom was pressed close enough that Adam could smell his cologne. It was relaxing, comforting almost.

“Have you heard from your family? Did they get to the apartment okay?” Ransom whispered. Adam started to nod but it felt like too much effort.

“Mom was texting me pictures while you two were arguing.” Adam thought about showing Ransom the pictures but reaching for his phone was definitely too much effort. “They’ve already started arguing amongst themselves about what is the best layout for the living room.” If his eyes were open, Adam would have rolled them. That was exactly the kind of behavior he had expected from his family. The room was drifting back into silence but Adam wanted to fill it suddenly. “Apparently Savannah is leaving some of her stuffed animals in my room so I won’t be lonely when I get there.” Adam couldn’t see Ransom’s smile but he could hear it in his voice when Ransom “aww-ed.” Adam smiled softly as well. “I think I’m gonna head over tomorrow, maybe after dinner.”

“You should take your glasses off before you break them.” Adam opened one eye to look at Ransom. Rans was still lying on his back but he turned his head to face him. “Seriously you break your glasses more than anyone I know.”

“Too much work.” Adam mumbled into the sheets in reply.

Ignoring his muffled, whiny complaints Ransom wiggled the glasses off of Adam’s face and put them on the bedside table.

“I’ll probably be here another day or two.” Ransom finally added. “Then I’ll head down. If that’s still okay.”

Adam opened his eyes again to study Ransom like he had grown another head.

“What the hell, Rans? Of course it’s ‘okay.’ It’s not like you have to ask.” He tried to keep his expression as serious as possible while half of it was still smashed against a mattress. “Ever.”

Ransom brushed Adam’s bangs out of his eyes. “Good night, Holtzy.”

Adam wrapped his arm tighter around Ransom’s middle. “Night Rans.”

_X_

Adam’s family stuck around for a day and a half after he arrived in Providence. Most of the larger furniture had been placed before he arrived so all he really had to do was move things into his preferred layout. This morning his mother woke him up, obscenely early, to go shopping for things he didn’t bring with him, that she was positive he would need. Adam had input on looks for certain things but overall he was there as more of a pack mule than an active shopper. After lunch the family packed up and headed back to Buffalo. Adam loved his family and between three little sisters and the Haus, he was used to being in a lively environment. He couldn’t deny however that he much more relaxed he was when he was finally alone.

Adam had a few more hours before Ransom arrived and in almost no time at all he found himself leaving his new, unfamiliar apartment, itching to do something. Unfortunately, Providence was still a mostly unfamiliar city and there were only so many places he knew how to get to.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled up to the ice rink.

Shouldering his duffle bag, Adam headed into the practice facility of the Providence Falconers with an odd, nervous energy buzzing just under his skin. Officially he was a Falconer. The contracts were all written up and signed, he had met the team, was given a key and access to the facilities. And yet the feeling that he did not belong washed over him as he walked through the door. It was still bizarre, months later, to think that he had gotten this far. That he, Adam Birkholtz, was now a NHL player (even if he hadn’t done much playing yet).

The nervous buzz didn’t fade as Adam wandered the facility. It certainly showed no signs of disappearing after two wrong turns. The only time he felt himself start to relax was as he traded his sneakers for his skates in the locker room and headed out to the rink.

Adam heard the laughter before he saw the other inhabitants.

“I told y’all this was a bad idea from the get-go. Honestly what would the fans say if they could see you now?”

He may have been able to excuse the laughter but there was no mistaking that southern drawl.

It was a bit silly for him to think he might find the ice rink empty, but he certainly never expected to see Alexei Mashkov and Jack Zimmerman on their asses on the ice, while one Eric Bittle laughed at them from the other end of the rink. For a moment Adam thought he might be hallucinating but then Bitty spotted him on the side lines. Adam watched the realization wash over Bitty. There was surprise, a little embarrassment, happiness, and then he could only hope he imagined the horror he saw take over Bitty before the southern schooled his expression back to something cheerful.

“Holster!” Bitty waved, drawing the attention of the other two hockey players his way. Mashkov grinned and waved as well but Jack’s expression was unreadable. Trying not to read too much into their reactions he made his way onto the ice.

“So, is this the way real NHL players play hockey?” He chirped. Jack’s expression finally relaxed into something a little friendlier while Mashkov laughed. Bitty sighed, crossing his arms over his chest with a fond look.

“Jack apparently mentioned he had an ex-figure skater on his old team and Tater wanted to meet me. They wanted to learn a jump. Thankfully neither of them got high or far enough to actually hurt themselves.”

Adam arched a brow at Jack. “They?”

“Zimmboni was good. Even if cheater.” Mashkov, Tater, explained cheerily, shoving Jack lightly.

“Just because I’ve seen Bittle do a jump before does not make me a cheater.” Jack argued stubbornly but his bright eyes betrayed his serious expression. Adam got the feeling this argument had started long before he had arrived on the ice.

Bitty rolled his eyes. “Mind helping get these two on their feet again?” He asked, bumping Adam’s arm lightly with his own.

Once up right, Tater looked more than ready to try the jump a second time. Adam and Jack hung back while Bitty started to explain the steps again, only to be cut off by Tater’s cell phone ringing in his pocket. If he wasn’t mistaken, Tater’s ringtone was The Star-Spangled Banner. And as an ex-choir boy it was not often he was mistaken about things like that. Jack didn’t seem to think anything of it, but Adam noticed Bitty’s expression showing confusion at the song choice as well. Tater didn’t bother to answer, or even pull out, his phone but he gave Bitty an apologetic smile.

“I have to go. Thanks for lesson, Itty-Bitty!” Tater headed off the ice, waving goodbye to Jack and Adam as he went.

Adam started doing laps once he knew he wouldn’t be in the way of their jumps. Nothing serious or taxing but something to keep him moving.

“So are you officially all moved in?” Bitty asked, skating up besides him after two laps. Adam studied Bittle as the ex-figure skater kept up with him. Nothing about Bitty seemed off and he didn’t seem to be treating him any differently. Still Adam couldn’t shake the flash of near-terror he had seen on Bitty’s face. Adam looked away.

“A few boxes here and there still but otherwise I’m set.” Adam confirmed. “What are you doing in Providence?”

Holster knew he didn’t imagine it that time. Bitty froze as if Adam had just caught him doing something bad.

“I was visiting Jack before I headed back to Samwell for the year.” Bitty finally said.

“Isn’t it a little early to head back?”

Jack skated up alongside Bitty. “Bittle is hoping to make it back before anyone else and finally get rid of the green couch.” Jack snitched with a grin. Adam slapped a hand to his chest.

“Eric Richard Bittle. You wouldn’t!”

Bitty groaned, glaring at the two of them. “That horrid thing is a hazard and I am getting rid of it before someone gets sick or dies from contracting something off of it.”

Adam and Jack both chirped Bitty for his worries but Bitty wouldn’t budge from his stance.

“I can’t believe it. The Haus won’t be the same without the couch.”

“The Haus will stop being a bio-hazard without that damn couch.” Bitty muttered. Then he scowled. “Well maybe not, but I have to try to make it a little better.”

The three skated for another hour and a half before Bitty and Jack started getting ready to leave the rink. Adam stayed on the ice taking slow, lazy laps. He just wanted a few more minutes to himself to clear his head and then he was going to head home. His fingers were starting to go numb in the cold.

“Holster, do you have plans tonight?” He looked up from his daydreaming when Jack called out to him.

“Rans is coming into town. Other than that I guess not. Why?”

“Bitty’s been itching to cook something in my kitchen. Why don’t the two of you come over for dinner?” Jack said with a nod to the locker room where Bitty was still changing.

“You know we can’t say no to Bitty’s cooking.”

Jack nodded as if he expected as much. “How about eight o’clock?”

“It’s a date.”

#Rita Writes #omgcp #holsom #fic #holster #ransom #adam birkholtz #justin oluransi #repost #1.9.17 #fic: you know i was down for you #fic: ykiwdfy

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