#i am being attacked by the 14th doctor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shop-korea · 1 year

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JULIA TRUITT - FOUNDED - MIAMI - FIRST - CITY -

IN - THE - UNITED STATES - 2 B - FOUND - BY - A -

WOMAN - FORT MYERS - FLORIDA - FOUND BY 6 -

MEN - 4 - STAYED - 2 - LEFT - 4 - CITY - NEXT - TO -

THEIR - WATERS - CAPE CORAL - BY - KAYAK - AS -

TODAY - STILL - GIGANTIC - BLK - MOSQUITOS -

EARLY - AM - 35 DEGREES - LOTS - OF - TIME 2 -

AT - CAPE CORAL - FL - MIAMI - THEIR - LANDS -

LIVED - BY - NATIVE - INDIANS - WHERE - NAME -

FR - HER - PARENTS - BOUGHT - LAND - FATHER -

DIED - SHE - MOVED - 2 - BRICKELL - NEAR YES -

BISCAYNE BAY - BEAUTIFUL - AQUA - WATERS -

BEST - WINDS - ON - EARTH - BRICKELL - YES -

JULIA TRUITT - LOVED - IT - HER - STATUE -

AT A - PARK - HAVEN'T - FOUND - IT - TRUE -

SHE - FOUND - OUT - RAILROAD - BEING -

BUILT - GAVE FREE LAND - 2 - CONSIDER -

GOING - 2 - BRICKELL - AS - TRAINS - HE -

SAID - YES - TRIBUTE - 2 - MISS - TRUITT -

METROMOVER - TRAINS - FREE - DAILY -

5A - 12A - METRORAIL - TRAINS - $2.25 -

EACH - WAY - BUSES - SOME - ARE 24/7 -

ONE - DAY - PASS - UNLIMITED - TRAINS -

BUSES - $5.65 - FR - 5A - MIDNIGHT 12A -

BRICKELL - CITY - CENTRE

EIGHT STREET

AFTER - HOMELESS - REMOVED - FROM -

GOVERNMENT - CENTER - THEY - MUST -

HAVE - SLAUGHTERED - ALL - WILD LIFE -

WILD - HENS - ROOSTERS - HAD - THEIR -

FRIED - CHICKEN - WELL - NEW - ONES -

ARRIVED - NOW - MIAMI - POLICE DEPT -

THEIR - OWN - POOR - PERSON's -

GOLF COURSE - 2 B - ENJOYED -

BY - ALSO - ILLEGAL - OPEN - CARRY -

WHITE - UNIFORM - ALLIED UNIVERSAL -

SECURITY - BLKS - BLKS - BLUE - THEM -

ARE - HISPANICS - HISPANICS - ALL - YES -

HIGH SCHOOL - PUBLIC - SCHOOL GRADS

COV-ID 19 - CORONAVIRUS - RESPIRATORY

COLDS - COUGH - HIGH FEVER - ONLY TOO

KILLED - MORE - THAN - 1 MILLION - IN USA

KILLED - OVER - 6 MILLION - WORLDWIDE

MEANING - UNITED STATES - NOT 2 - YES -

BRIGHT - PEOPLE - OWNERS - AND - SHOP -

OWNERS - OF - BRICKELL CITY - CENTRE -

PAID - ILLEGAL - OPEN - CARRY FLORIDA -

ALLIED - UNIVERSAL - SECURITY

BLK - MEN - WOMEN - LOW - GPA

YOUR - FIREARM - SHOOT - KIDS - ANIMALS -

NOT - SERVICE - SHOOT - PHILIPPINES - TOO -

CONFIDENT - DOCTORS - NURSES

U - WILL - TELL - THE - RULES OF MALL

BIBLE - 'THE - RICH - RULING OVER THE POOR'

14TH - AMENDMENT - VIOLATION

BANGED - TWICE - ON - MY - DISABLED DOOR

RESTROOM - 3RD - FLOOR - ALWAYS - EMPTY

FOLLOWED - ME - FR - WHERE - I - USED - THE

ELEVATOR - LESBIAN - OPEN - THIGHS - WE -

WILL - VIDEO - THEM - AND - SHARE - THEIR -

SHOWER - 2 - PLACES - WHERE - PROSTITUTION -

IS - LEGAL - THE - RIGHT - WAY - WITH - THEIR YES -

CHECKING - ACCOUNT - TOTAL - PINS - PASSWORD -

THEIR - SS - CARDS - EDUCATION - GRADES - WE -

WILL - SHOW - WORLD - IMPORTANT - FACTS XO -

ABOUT - AMERICAN - BLKS - FOREIGN - BLKS

REMEMBER - OUR - CAMPAIGN -

SAY - OUT - LOUD - NOT - MARRYING - BLK

DAILY - ALL - AGES - TAX - PAID -

500 BILLION - EACH - TIME - DIRECT -

DEPOSIT - NON-FLAMMABLE CARDS -

PLACES - 2 - GET - THEM - GROCERIES

14TH - SAID - 'I - WAS - TAKING SHOWER

IN - DISABLED - RESTROOM - BECAUSE

FR - PHILIPPINES - THEY - ARE NURSES

DOCTORS - HOMELESS - IN - USA - FOR

THEY - CAN'T - AFFORD - THE - HILTON'

ATTACKED - ME - ON - PURPOSE

DISCRIMINATION - OF - NATIONAL - ORIGIN

DISCRIMINATION - OF - RACE - GENDER - &

AGE - BECAUSE - THEY - WORK - 2 - PAY -

THEIR - BILLS - PEOPLE - IN - MALL ARE -

NOT - WORKING

US TREASURY

IRS

HARVARD LAW

500 YEARS - THEY - SPOUSES - PARTNERS

KIDS - FAMILIES - RELATIVES - WORLD AND

US - 500 YRS - CAN'T - CASH - CHECKS AND

CAN'T - WORK - BEGGARS - THEIR - FUTURE

14TH - NO - US - STATE - CAN - DEPRIVE -

ANY - PERSON - OF - LIFE - SHE - LIKED -

ARMED - AGAINST - PHILIPPINES - 2 YES -

SHOOT - CATRIONA GRAY - BIG - BOOBS

SHOOT - PIA WURTZBACK - BIG - BOOBS

LESBIANS - ARMED - LESBIANS - ARMED

WAS - GOING - 2 - SHOOT ME

BLK - MALE - EYES - GOING - EVERYWHERE

THEIR - BOSS - GOING - 2 - TELL - ME - WE -

CAN - REMOVE - U - HAVE - U - ARRESTED

4 - TRESPASSING - OUTDOOR MIAMI MALL

14TH - NO - US - STATE - CAN - DEPRIVE -

ANY - PERSON - OF - PROPERTY - PUBLIC -

EMBARRASSMENT - PHILIPPINES - CAN'T -

USE - LARGE - UMBRELLA - U - HAVE - TO -

BRING - ALL - YOUR - THINGS COMPUTERS -

TAKE - 155 LBS - AND - SEEK - SHELTER FR -

RAIN - BRICELL - MALL - STRONG - WINDS -

RAIN - FLOWS - 2 - 2ND - FLOOR - DETROYED -

MY - SAMSUNG - TABLET - THUS - ALL - YES -

EMPLOYEES - OF - BRICKELL - SECURITY -

OWNERS - ALL - OF - THEM - TRUE TRUE -

EXCEPT - THE HENRY - CAFE AMERIANO -

TACOLOGY - CUBAN - CUISINE -

RESTRAINING - ORDERS - SAMSUNG -

KOREA - ALL - KOREAN - STUFF AND -

K POP - BTS - ITZY - 2 - BRING MORE -

PEOPLE - KIA - EV - KIA - CARS ALSO

14TH - NO - US - STATE - CAN - DEPRIVE -

ANY - PERSON - OF - LIBERTY - I - WAS -

VOMITING - AND - SHAMPOOING - MY -

HAIR - CONDITIONING - BECAUSE THE -

RESTROOM - OF - HOOKERS - MISTRESSES -

SPANISH SPEAKING - URINE - EVERYWHERE -

SMELLS - SO - BAD - IT - MADE - ME - VOMIT -

SHAMPOOD - MY - HAIR - ANTI - AGING - TO -

STOP - ME - FR - VOMITING - SMELLS BETTER -

SECURITY - ALLIED - UNIVERSAL - WAS GOING -

2 - HAVE - ME - ARRESTED - 4 - HANGING OUT -

IN - THEIR - RESTROOM - AS - STUPID - BLKS -

WHEN - THEY - COME - OUT - OF - THEIR - FL -

STALL - NOT - FLUSHING - CLEANING - THEIR -

URINE - ITS - A - REPUTATION - ME - CLEAN'G -

THEIR - RESTROOM - BECAUSE - MY - YES -

REPUTATION - I - WAS - VOMITING - FOR - I -

COULDN'T - HANDLE - SMELL - THERE AND -

SO - I'M - BUYING - WATER - AT - PUBLIX -

DOING - MY - HAIR - BLEACH - AT - THEIR -

BAYFRONT - PARK - THEN - USING WATER -

AT - THEIR - GRASS - 2 - WASH - IT - OFF 2 -

THEY - DON'T - HAVE - SECURITY - DURING -

REGULAR - TIME - POLICE - PARK - THERE -

ARMED - SO - WILL - DO - MY - BLEACH AT -

BAYFRONT - PARK - USE - PUBLIX WATER -

2 - DO - THAT - BRICKELL - CITY CENTRE -

U - CAN'T - SHOWER - IN - THEIR - STALL -

BECAUSE - THEY - KNOW - ALTERNATIVE -

5 MIN - FREE - TOILETS - MANY PLACES -

AMERICANS - DON'T - SHOWER - THEY -

SMELL - WHY - OVER - 1 MILLION DIED -

CORONOVIRUS - FR - PEOPLE - WHO -

DON'T - SHOWER - JESUS - IS - LORD -

I - PRAYED - DEUT 28 - ALL - DISEASES -

NOT - EVEN - LISTED - IN - THE - BIBLE -

COV-ID 19 - HAPPENED - KILLED -

OVER - 7 MILLION - WORLDWIDE

BEACHES - SOUTH - OF - FRANCE

FRANCE - PARIS - OVER - 2,000 YRS - OLD - CAPITAL -

FORMERLY - OWNED - BY - GREAT BRITAIN - AND THE -

SOUTH - OF - FRANCE - DOCTORS - NURSES - LIKE IN -

TOKYO - PARIS - ONLY - THEM - CAN - DRIVE - DAILY 2 -

U - CAN'T - BE - FIRED - FR - WORK - IN - FRANCE - YES

CALIFORNIA - NEW YORK - FLORIDA

14TH - ILLEGALLY - CREATED - BACKPACKS - LARGE -

UMBRELLAS - RESTROOM - USE - ILLEGAL - LAWS -

ABOUT - THEM - THEY - DON'T - BLEED - A - LOT AS -

WOMEN - THEY DON'T HAVE - 7 DAUGHTERS - LIKE -

PHILIPPINES - THEY - IMMORALLY - PENETRATED -

SINCE - AGE 10 - BLKS - WHITES - AND - HISPANICS -

BRICKELL - CITY - CENTRE

NEW - LAWS - CREATED - BY - ARMED - SECURITY

'CAN'T - SHOWER - IN - THEIR - RESTROOM'

PUBLIC - HUMILITATION

ATTACKED - MEDICAL RACE - PHILIPPINES

14TH - NO - US STATE - CAN - MAKE - OR ENFORCE

ANY - LAW - CUTTING - ENDING - THE - PRIVILEGES

OR - IMMUNITY - OF - CITIZENS - OF THE - UNITED -

STATES - PRAY - DEUT 28 - 'NO - RAIN - SHALL FALL -

ON - THE - LAND - OF - BRICKELL - CITY - CENTRE -

AND - THE - LAND - OF - THEIR - EMPLOYEES - AND -

SECURITY' - 'THEIR - GROUND - WILL - B - AS - HARD -

AS - IRON - INSTEAD - OF - RAIN - GOD - WILL SEND -

THEM - DUSTORMS - UNTIL - THEY'RE - CONSUMED -

COMPLETELY' - PRAY - DEUT 28 - CURSES - ON THEM -

DEAR - ANGELS

ANGEL - APP - SING - PRAISE - PRAY - OUT - LOUD

500 BILLION - PER - 15 MIN - AS - U - SPEAK - SING

2 - APP - LIKE - ABOVE - AS - WE - SUPPLY - MANY

WAYS - 2 - GET - MORE - MONEY - DAILY - QUITE -

TRUE - PHILIPPINES - IN - CALIFORNIA

JOIN - OUR - PROGRAM -

BIRDS - MIGRATE - 2 - WARMER - WEATHER

NEW - TITLE

'MIGRATE - TAYO'

BIRDS - MIGRATE - TOGETHER

BIRDS - OF THE SAME FEATHER -

FLOCK - TOGETHER

FAMILIES - OF - THE - PHILIPPINES

UNITED STATES - LARGEST - NO

OVER - 4 MILLION - LARGEST IN

THE - WORLD - OUTSIDE - PLACE

OF - BIRTH - OVER - 12 MILLION 4

ALL - AMOUNTS - RECEIVED - EARNED

FOREVER - TAX FREE - FR PHILIPPINES

HUGE - NO - TAX FREE - HONG KONG 2

RECEIVE - THEIR - SALARIES - TAX FREE

NEW - PROGRAM

'MIGRATE - TAYO'

WELCOME - FAMILIES

CAFE - COMING - 2 - ASHEVILLE - NC

NORTH CAROLINA - 27 DEGREES LOW

LIKE - MIAMI - FLORIDA - BRICKELL 2

BOTH - 7% - TAXES

CAFE - 'TULOY - PO - KAYO' - 24/7 - HOLIDAYS

TONGUES - $500 BILLION - TAX - PAID

SING - TONGUES - $500 BILLION ALSO

ONLY - SELL - YOUR - HOUSES

AUDITION - SING - OR - DANCE

WE - WILL - BUY - YOUR - HOUSES

CONDOS - PAID - APARTMENTS 2

NEXT - SELLING - PRICE - $1.00 - ONLY

FURNISHED - IF U - DO - $500 BILLION

REAL - ESTATE - PASSIONISTAS - YES -

BUY - ANY - BEAUTIFUL - HOUSE AND -

FURNISH - SELL - 4 - $1.00 - ALSO WE -

WILL - GIVE - U - $500 BILLION - APP -

HDG - REAL ESTATE

HAPPY - DOING - GOOD

ASHEVILLE - NORTH CAROLINA - NC

MAGIC - KINGDOM - MEDICAL CENTER

VARIOUS - AGES

FREE - BABY - DELIVERY - FREE DENTAL

FREE - SURGERY - FREE - PUPPIES - TOO

DELIVERY - PEOPLE - ANIMALS - WILD &

DOMESTIC - ANIMALS - FREE - CANCER

ACUPUNCTURE LASER - FREE SURGERY

SURGEONS - SINGERS - ONLY

AUDITION

OFFERING - EDUCATION - 24/7 - ONLINE

IN - PERSON - ALL - AGES - TIME - 2 - YES

EDUCATE - VACCINES - 4 - SNOW - FREE

'MIGRATE - TAYO' - WORLWIDE - & - USA

RELOCATION - SPECIALISTS

OURS - $500 BILLION - X 2 - PER - HOUR

TAX - PAID - BLKS - IN - AMERICA - THEIR

POLICE - KILL - DOCTORS - AND NURSES

SPANISH - EXECUTED - DOCTORS

DR JOSE RIZAL

WE'RE - HATED - THEY'RE JEALOUS

ADOLPH HITLER - CHRISTIAN - NEW

GERMAN CITIZEN - MURDERED JEWISH

SURGEONS - DOCTORS - RICH - PEOPLE

AMERICAN - BLKS - FOREIGN - BLKS -

WARNING - KILL - DOCTORS NURSES -

MAGIC KINGDOM - MEDICAL - CENTERS

VARIOUS - AGES - SEPARATE

SURGEONS - SINGERS ONLY

TONGUES

$500 BILLION - X 3 - PER HOUR - TAX PAID

FREE - MEDICAL - SUPPLIES - FREE DAILY

SURGERY - FREE - BABY - DELIVERY - FREE

DENTAL - FREE PUPPY - CATTLE DELIVERY

FREE - HORSE - DELIVERY - FREE SURGERY

AMAZON - PRIME - $189 - THEY - DELIVER -

2 - HOTEL - CONCIERGE - INNS - ALSO TOO -

PHILIPPINES - CALLED - HOMELESS - BY -

SECURITY - OF - BRICKELL CITY - CENTRE -

EIGHT STREET

BUYERS - OF - THEIR - EXPENSIVE - MALL -

HOOKERS - CALL - GIRLS - PROSTITUTES -

MISTRESSES - ORGY - GIRLS - BOYS - AND -

SELDOM - WIVES - $2,000 - FOR - BLOUSE -

ZARA - SHOPPERS

PER - ITEM - $500 BILLION - TAX - PAID

HDG - SHOPPER - APP

BUYING - ZARA - PRODUCTS

ZARA - ARE - CHRISTIANS - LIKE - LUKE's -

LOBSTERS - ILLEGALLY - CLOSED DURING -

EASTER - SUNDAY - 1ST - AMENDMENT -

RESPECTED - CHRISTIAN - RELIGION FL -

THOUGH - FREE - EXERCISE - BUSINESS -

CAN'T - BE - AFFECTED - WALMARTS -

BEN's - PIZZA - BAYFRONT MARKETPLACE

BOTH - OPEN - DURING - EASTER SUNDAY

HDG - SHOPPERS - APP

ZARA - PRODUCTS

PER - BLOUSE - PER - PANTS

$500 BILLION - EACH - THROW - AWAY

DO - NOT - DONATE

HDG - FOODS - APP

HAAGEN-DAZS

$500 BILLION - PER - ITEM - BOUGHT

GROCERY - THEIR - BRANCHES - YES

PHOTOGRAPH - $500 BILLION - PER

BUY - THEN - DISCRETELY - THROW

APP - SAY - 'I - WILL - NOT - BUY -

HAAGEN-DAZS - EVER - AGAIN' -

AMERICAN - ICE - CREAM - 245

'MIGRATE - TAYO'

PHILIPPINE - FAMILIES - UNITED STATES

HOUSE - DIVIDED - AGAINST - ITSELF US

WILL - NOT - STAND - BIBLE

'MIGRATE - TAYO'

STRONGER - TOGETHER - LOTS - OF -

WAYS - 2 - KEEP - MAKING - TAX PAID -

$500 BILLION

HDG - BANKS - COMING - ONLINE

USA - POLICE - TEACHERS - NURSES -

OF - NON-ICU - PSYCHIATRISTS AND -

SECURITY - SHOPPING - MALL - YES -

EMPLOYEES - EXCEPT - SOME - TRASH -

PERSONS - WILL - NOT - B - ALLOWED -

OUR - BANKS - OTHER - BANK - TRUE -

THEIR - EMPLOYEES - FBI - ARMED -

OCCUPATIONS - NOT ALLOWED US -

REPUBLICANS - LIBERALS - NOT -

ALLOWED - HDG - BANKS - RIGHT -

NOW - MORE - AND - MORE THEY -

PROVING - ANTI - FOREIGNERS -

VIOLATES - 'LIFE - LIBERTY AND -

PURSUIT - OF HAPPINESS' - USA

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imonthinice · 3 years

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The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 22/?

Word Count: 1.8k

Author's Note: Y/N - Your name, A/N - Any name (Your best friend's name)

We're back, we're in full swing, we've hit like 50 followers, we've hit 500 notes. We're thriving.

Also! Fun fact but I can't actually watch Young Justice season 3 (and 4) or Titans :/ They're on DC Universe, which is only available in America. (If you can't catch on, I'm not from America lol)

Warnings: Swearing, Description of Injury, Kidnapping, Police/ Justice System, Manipulation attempts, Gaslighting, Violence, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20) (Part 21) (Part 22)

The days became longer and kept bothering Y/N. She was losing grip on reality. Aria would come in occasionally and feed her. Give her water. Let her use the bathroom. She was stuck. She wanted to knock off that stupid fucking bird plague doctor mask and, look her pathetic sister in her eyes. And let Aria know that she knew, she knew who it was.

But she was backed into a corner. And the mask was not going to come off anytime. Boy, oh boy, she wanted it to fall. She wanted it to slip so she could boot it into the walls she had become accustomed to. She wanted it to fall and shatter.

Aria came into the room like normal, to be greeted by Y/N not even looking her in the eyes.

"Come here, love," Aria said.

"Go to Hell."

"I need to use you for a "Proof of Life" video. So I can use you for ransom. Come here."

"No."

"Come here. Now," Aria said, voice getting more hoarse and pissed off with Y/N and her actions.

"No."

"Come. Here. Now!" She screeched.

"No!"

She felt Aria's claws grab her wrists and dig in, she could feel the blood seeping through the claws from her wrists. Aria pushed her into the wall, still gripping her wrists and letting the blood flow down Y/N's arms.

"Listen here, you fucking bitch," Aria said, dropping her voice a few octaves, to seem intimidating. "I want that money. If you don't cooperate, I'll kill you."

Y/N whimpered but spat at her sister, "You'll fucking die trying."

Aria wrestled Y/N into her seat and handcuffed her to it. She then set up the video camera.

"And, recording. Talk."

"I fucking hate you."

"You should."

"Go to fucking Hell."

"The date is February 14th. Here," she shoved a newspaper into the view of the camera, Y/N didn't even notice Aria bring it in. She saw the article on the back of her kidnapping. She knew people were still talking.

"Here is the date. On a newspaper. This video will be released today. If I don't get the money within a week, I'll kill her. Along with the Waynes."

Y/N gulped. This just got so much more real than she was expecting.

Aria left the room, with Y/N still handcuffed to the chair. She took in the room she had become used to. She had spent a week in captivity, expecting the vigilantes of Gotham to come and get them, but they didn't. She was confused as to why-

Wait a damn minute, she thought. Are you- Wait- Wait- Wait- Wait. Oh my god? The family is in captivity, the vigilantes haven't come for us yet, are- she paused. Are they the vigilantes? There's no way, they can't be- Can they? They can- Can't they, huh? Fuck. We're- We're not getting out anytime soon. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This is a God damn pickle we've gotten into. Aria must know what I think, the family- she paused, almost as if she didn't believe what she was thinking. That they're the Gotham vigilantes. She must- Fuck!

I don't care that they didn't tell me- she thought like someone could read her thoughts. She figured that someone might be able to. She knew that Martian Manhunter had those abilities. she figured that Miss Martian, who she didn't see often, likely shared those abilities.

I care that we might be fucked.

---------------------------------------

Before she knew it, that exact day, she figured, February 14th? The door was broken down by Superman. This just put the pieces together more for Y/N. Her assumptions about the Waynes being the Gotham vigilantes were just seeming more likely as time went on.

Superman uncuffed her and she thanked him before running out to where Aria was being arrested by the Gotham police. But she didn't stop, and she knocked off Aria's mask.

"Oh, hi Y/N," Aria said, nonchalantly.

"Oh, hi Y/N," Y/N mocked. "You fucking bitch!" she yelled and pushed Aria, while the police tried to detain her. She struggled and tried to attack Aria further, "Let go! I know her power of attorney is going to be her sister-"

"How do you know that?" Commissioner Gordon asked.

"Because her sister is me!" She yelled when she finally broke away from the police, trying to get closer to Aria, before Commissioner Gordon stopped her, grabbing her arms and squeezing lightly. She stared at him, dead-faced. No emotions were there, other than anger, raw, seething anger.

Aria laughed, "Oops. I guess the jig is up."

Y/N was seething, she didn't even notice the JLA and the rest of the Waynes were behind her. She was still struggling to get towards Aria, yelling and just making noise.

She was making a scene, but she didn't care. She felt betrayed.

"You fucking bitch. You absolutely pathetic piece of shit."

"Keep yelling at me, Y/N. Mom and Dad will be disappointed in you. They always are, aren't they?"

Y/N turned to Commissioner Gordon, who was still holding her in place, "You either get her out of my fucking face in 5 seconds or I'm going to hurt her. That's not a threat," she turned to Aria, "That's a fucking promise."

"We might have to detain you at this rate, Y/N."

"And I would understand that, but I'm going to hurt her."

"Ma'am, calm down." Commissioner Gordon said before waving his hand and the other police took Aria into the back of a police car. "I'm going to have to arrest you," he said, trying to show sympathy for the pain that Y/N was in.

"Then do it already," Y/N mumbled, eyes still locked on the police car her sister was in.

"Gordon?" Jason called, "I swear, I've never seen this much anger in her. I'm sure you can send her home with us."

"You better be right about that, Jason."

"I really think I am right."

Gordon looked at Y/N, which she caught in the corner of her eye. She could tell he was upset about this, he was trying to get to her, to get her to understand her anger was okay, but beating her sister wasn't.

And then Aria waved as they drove her to the station.

But she wasn't even paying attention and before she knew it, she was in Jason's arms. He was holding her while talking to the police about the attack. He had his hands wrapped around her waist while he was behind her, maximizing the ability he had to stop her should she run.

He knew what he was doing, and it was working to calm her slightly, to the point where the police were able to talk to her about her experience with the attacker they knew as Hour, or as Arianna (Last name).

Once they were done with questioning her, they spoke more to Jason, who still had her in his grasp.

She surveyed the area and noticed that Bruce was talking to Superman.

The pieces were all falling into place. She knew he had to be Batman at that moment.

And she wanted in on it.

The hopelessness she felt when Aria had her kidnapped was astronomical. She wanted to make sure no one ever felt that way again, not if she could help it. She wanted in on it all.

She thought back to Jason's stab wound, the scar still fresh. She knew it wasn't a mugging. It had to be him saving the city from peril. She realized how dumb she was for buying into that lie, but she wasn't mad at anyone in her vicinity.

She was mad- pissed- so far beyond angry at Aria.

She didn't know she could be so angry. She didn't know she had it in her to be so angry at Aria. But she was. She was so unbelievably pissed. Any mention of her name sent Y/N into seething anger, and Jason could feel her heart race in her body.

She wasn't paying attention to words anymore. She just wanted to get out of there, to go home. To her home, not Jason's. She didn't feel safe in the Wayne Manor anymore.

No one could blame her when she told the police to drive her to her house, not the Wayne Manor. Jason just hugged her and asked when he could see her next. She told him in the morning. "Or," she added, "At 3 in the morning. I don't care. Just leave me alone right now."

Everyone understood. They didn't have their own sister kidnap them after all.

She got to her house and got inside, A/N immediately trying to flag her down to talk to her, but she just put up a hand and waved her off. Slinking to her room without a second thought and locking the door.

She didn't want to talk about it. The thoughts about her sister racing through her mind. The thoughts about how her boyfriend was a vigilante. How was she going to bring this up? How was she going to tell him that she knew? That she wanted in on the act? That she wanted to fight alongside him- and his family?

Before she knew it, and like clockwork, it was 3 in the morning. And Jason was knocking on her window. She assumed that he had tried to let himself into her room, but to no avail since she hadn't unlocked the door.

She went over to her window and unlocked it. She lifted it and Jason crawled in.

"I have a front door," she said.

"You didn't answer when I tried to knock on your door," he joked. "How are you holding up?"

"As well as anyone can in my situation."

"Well, everyone wishes you came home with us, so we could watch you on your first night away from-"

"From my sister?"

"I was going to say from captivity."

"So, my sister."

"Yeah, that."

"Uh-huh."

"So, anyway," Jason said, trying to get Y/N's mind off of Aria. "Did you sleep when you got here?" he asked.

"No. I was busy."

"Doing what?"

"Lost in thought. There's a lot of thoughts, not enough brain," she joked. "You probably get that part."

"I do-"

"When were you going to tell me?" she but in.

"Tell you what?" he questioned, confused.

"That you're one of the vigilantes," she answered, studying his face. He seemed taken aback by the statement and tried to avert her gaze. Oh yeah, he knows what I'm on about, she thought.

"I-"

"You know what I'm on about, Jay. You know I know so don't lie anymore."

"Y/N-"

"No. You know I know. I know you know. Don't lie anymore. I'm not even ad at the lies, you're trying to keep me safe, obviously."

"Oh."

"The truth is, babe, I want in."

"What!?"

(Oh my god? Are we going to get Red Hood action? (The answer is yes, in due time)

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mianavs · 3 years

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facing a betrothed

part 5 of Cathexis

a/n: looking forward to writing more Illumi now that the build-up is done. sorry for the wait but the holidays are keeping me busy

wc: 2.3k

Cathexis

Ever since finding out the truth behind Illumi’s obsession with you, reuniting with him was something you wanted to avoid at all costs despite knowing better. You weren’t ready to face the man that intended to trap you in a contract marriage without a termination clause. But much like your first meeting, Illumi showed up by invitation of Hisoka and saw you exiting the bathroom as you towel dried your damp hair.

“What are you doing here?” Illumi asked, his usually unaffected eyes were fractionally narrowed.

“I’m sure it’s obvious, Illumi,” Hisoka answered on your behalf as he stood up from his seat, still clad in his white bathrobe, and stood next to you. You glared at the magician and took a step away from him.

“What are you doing, Hisoka?”

“Just trying to clear up this misunderstanding,” Hisoka stated with a smirk. “Don’t you think Illumi deserves to know?”

“No!” Your trembling grip on his arm did nothing to stop Hisoka and you could only watch Illumi’s reaction with wide eyes.

“Y/N knows you’ve been watching over her, Illumi. That’s the only reason she came looking for me.”

Illumi’s face was unchanging except for the tensing of his jaw before turning to you. “How long have you known?”

“Three years now,” you replied swallowing your unease.

“And the engagement?”

You didn’t fail to notice his choice of the word engagement instead of betrothal and it only confirmed your suspicion that he was onboard with the arrangement.

“Just recently.”

“I told you she wasn’t ready.” Illumi said turning to Hisoka.

“I thought she deserved to know,” Hisoka replied with a shrug but the smirk on his face only grew seeing Illumi toy with the needle in his hand—an indicator that he was discontent.

“This wasn’t something you could decide.”

“So when was I going to be ready, Illumi? In a couple of months? You don’t get to decide that for me.”

You were tired of getting pushed to the sidelines like your opinion didn’t matter. Hisoka might be a twisted individual but at least he had the decency to tell you what the future had in store for you.

“Your reaction is proof of your immaturity.”

“I’m being sold off to repay a debt, how am I supposed to react?” Illumi opened his mouth but you interjected with a bitter laugh. “Never mind, I remembered that I’m speaking to someone devoid of all emotions.”

You were done with the conversation and threw the towel on the bed. You quickly laced up your shoes, eager to put as much space as possible between you and the duo.

“Leaving so soon?” Hisoka asked before his hand reached down towards your head. You caught his wrist and stood up. “I’m busy. You know that.”

Without another word to the magician, you shook off his hand and stalked towards the door. Before you could reach it, however, Illumi was there in an instant.

“We need to talk, Y/N.”

“I’m late for a job. We can talk later.”

Activating your nen, you pushed Illumi away and darted out the door without looking back. You reached the end of the hallway before your entire body went numb causing you to stumble and stop. It felt as if your arms and legs had fallen asleep but you carried on. The further you got, the more your body seemed to work against you until it culminated with sharp pains in the back of your neck.

The stabbing neck pain lasted throughout your mission of protecting your client’s rare emerald in transport from Kakin to Zaban City. It affected your performance to the point that the shipment was late and your displeased client cut your payment by half.

Those were the events that led to you to your family doctor who serviced your family long before your birth. The two of you were able to work together to locate and extract the golden nen-covered needle wedged into the back of your neck. You were baffled at the realization that someone had inserted that into you, until your doctor cleared everything up with a single question.

“What manipulator did you cross?”

Illumi.

It was Illumi.

The dream that you had after meeting him for the first time hadn’t been a dream at all. He actually broke into your room and inserted his needle into your neck. It dawned on you that the warnings and the bad feelings you had when you were meeting Hisoka were all because of Illumi’s needle that had brainwashed you somehow.

That day only, you wanted to run into Illumi. You waited the whole day for him to appear but he never came. Of course he wouldn’t show up when you wanted him to. With the needle sealed in a plastic baggy and stashed into your travel pack, you headed to York New to meet with one of your regular clients, Rivero Langstaff.

Over the past three months, Rivero had provided a good number of jobs for you. Despite the majority of them not paying a lot, they were usually easy to do and allowed you to make some quick cash on the side while a big job popped up.

It was late evening when you arrived to Rivero’s office building and the dark rain clouds covering the sky only made it that much darker. With the rain beating down on your umbrella, you walked into the building and greeted Rivero’s secretary, Margo. It was during your walk to the elevator with Margo that you sensed something was off. Rivero’s nen, while not very strong, was undetectable as the elevator approached his office on the 14th floor.

As soon as the two of you got off the elevator, you turned to Margo and sent her back down to avoid getting the innocent secretary tangled into whatever was waiting for you. Upon opening the office door, you found the office dark with Rivero’s body slumped over his desk. As you drew closer to him, lightning flashed and you saw the dark red puddle beneath his head that slowly amassed more and more of the desk’s surface area. Proving your suspicions, you then straightened your gaze to the figure that stood against the window.

Long black hair and matching soulless eyes stood immobile while facing you. Illumi’s collected demeanor had you seething but you steeled yourself to the spot you stood on before addressing him.

“Did you have to go this far?” Your voice shook from anger and you balled your hands into fists to keep them from attacking the murderer before you.

“We need to talk about the engagement.” Illumi stated in that absent-minded manner of his while ignoring your question per usual.

“I-I seriously...I can’t believe you.” You stammered running your hand through your hair before beginning to pace around. “Did the thought of approaching me like a normal human ever cross your mind?”

“I already tried that but you ignored me; therefore, I needed to take certain measures.” He stated quirking his head. He was mocking you and you’d had enough. Digging into your travel pack, you pulled out the plastic baggy with Illumi’s needle and threw it at him. He easily caught the baggy mid-air and it’s contents.

“More drastic than that? You really tried hard to control me didn’t you, Illumi.”

“Ah, I was hoping it would last longer.” He took the needle out and stored it in his pocket. “I guess it doesn’t matter now that—”

Illumi suddenly stopped and you sensed Margo’s presence getting off the elevator. In a fraction of a second, the two of you were by the door and you held his wrist while he held one of his large yellow needles to your neck.

“Just go and leave her out of this” you hissed while Illumi stared blankly down at you.

“But we still need to talk.”

“We can talk somewhere else,” and you hesitated before continuing. “Meet me outside of my condo. I don’t think I need to tell you the address, now do I?”

Illumi didn’t answer but still removed his needle and you let go of his wrist. You swiftly exited the office and met with a concerned Margo. After explaining Rivero’s death at the hand of a mysterious assassin and comforting the distraught secretary, Margo went back down to call the authorities and you left to meet with Rivero’s murderer.

Despite your instructions to meet you outside of your condo, you found Illumi waiting for you in your living room.

“Have you always broken into my home while I sleep?” You asked offhandedly while going into your kitchen and putting the kettle on the stove for some tea.

“Only when you’re training or after a mission. Although, I have never been to your ancestral home.”

He paced around the living room until he stopped in front of the framed pictures your mom had of you. Illumi took in your living room while you kept your gaze trained on him ready to stop him from venturing further into your home.

The sharp kettle whistle drew you from your thoughts and you quickly prepared the tea before fishing two mugs from the cabinet and bringing it all to the coffee table. With a mug of hot tea in your hands, you faced Illumi who sat ramrod straight on the couch opposite from you with his mug still on the table.

“So what do you want to talk about?”

“The conditions of our marriage since it is based on an agreement.” Illumi replied in that fake cheerful manner of his.

“And do I get an input in these conditions?”

Illumi regarded you for a moment, his mouth twitching into what you assumed was meant to be a smile, before answering. “Not really, but I’ll listen to them and depending what they are, I might allow them.”

“Hah…of course.” You replied bitterly before taking another sip of tea. You weren’t sure what you expected. You were the payment demanded by the Zoldycks; therefore, it was only natural that the agreement would be unilateral.

“My family wants the marriage done exactly one year after the engagement as is Zoldyck tradition. Until then, you and I are free to do as we please with whomever we please but as soon as we are wed, you are mine and I am yours until death.”

How romantic

“Fine but what about after we’re married? Will I still be allowed to work as a hunter or is it Zoldyck tradition to stay at home and be a good little housewife?” You couldn’t help but play along.

“It is Zoldyck tradition,” Illumi answered matter-of-factly either not picking up on your sarcasm or simply choosing to ignore it; you suspected the former. “But you can still work as a hunter if you wish as I have no intention of having children right away.”

The thought of raising Illumi’s kids and being a housewife gave you chills and you wished there was something stronger in your cup to get you through the rest of the conversation. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“Ah, yes. We are a family business, therefore, once you become a Zoldyck a part of your wages will go towards the business.”

“Not much different than my current situation,” you muttered, finishing off your tea. You looked up to see Illumi eyeing you with a strange look that resembled curiosity.

“Why do you work so much?” Illumi inquired, taking the first sip of the tea that had most likely gone cold. “As far as I know, your parents still work as hunters and are very active. You also come from a long line of hunters yet you’ve been working non-stop ever since you got your hunter license.”

You set your mug down and readied the answer you’d been preparing since finding out about the engagement. For multiple aspects of your life, you would resort to making up half-lies that hopefully convinced him until the deadline.

“A long line of debt too. Our family has been in debt for a couple generations now and my parents and I have spent our lives trying to pay off the ones we can.” The entire time, you kept your eyes trained on Illumi for the slightest movement of muscle indicating suspicion but the stoic assassin remained still.

“I see. Well, you can choose to do whatever you want; however, I’ll continue to keep tabs on you until the agreement is complete and we’re married.”

“Right,” You swallowed and relaxed your tensed shoulders. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Yes, my family would like to meet you before the engagement.” Illumi replied setting his mug down on the table and standing up. “I’ll let you know when that will take place so you can make arrangements for it.”

“That’s fine but I’m letting you know that my time is precious and I expect monetary compensation.” You stated and stood up as well. Illumi’s jaw tensed the slightest bit before agreeing to your conditions. Grinning from ear-to-ear, you gave Illumi your bank account information knowing it’d be going back to him in the form of repayment.

With that, Illumi left and you took a deep breath as soon as you closed the door behind him. The dreaded conversation was finally over and you’d managed not break a vase on his head no matter how much you wanted to. Hearing the expectations Illumi and his family had of his future bride made you shudder in disgust but also served to motivate you to earn as much money as you could. You decided to call one of your clients to see if they had any work for you when you received a notification from your bank. Upon reading the message, a smile unconsciously creeped on your face.

[Deposit of 200,000 Jenny from Illumi Zoldyck]

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amuseoffyre · 3 years

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Arthur Conan Doyle on Anti-vaxxers

From time to time some champion of the party which is opposed to vaccination comes forward to air his views in the public Press, but these periodical sallies seldom lead to any discussion, as the inherent weakness of their position renders a reply superfluous. When, however, a gentleman of Colonel Wintle's position makes an attack upon what is commonly considered by those most competent to judge to be one of the greatest victories ever won by science over disease, it is high time that some voice should be raised upon the other side. Hobbies and fads are harmless things as a rule, but when a hobby takes the form of encouraging ignorant people to neglect sanitary precautions and to live in a fool's paradise until bitter experience teaches them their mistake, it becomes a positive danger to the community at large. The interests at stake are so vital that an enormous responsibility rests with the men whose notion of progress is to revert to the condition of things which existed in the dark ages before the dawn of medical science.

Colonel Wintle bases his objection to vaccination upon two points: its immorality and its inefficiency or positive harmfulness. Let us consider it under each of these heads, giving the moral question the precedence which is its due. Is it immoral for a Government to adopt a method of procedure which experience has Proved and science has testified to conduce to the health and increased longevity of the population? Is it immoral to inflict a Passing inconvenience upon a child in order to preserve it from a deadly disease? Does the end never justify the means? Would it be immoral to give Colonel Wintle a push in order to save him from being run over by a locomotive? If all these are really immoral, I trust and pray that we may never attain morality. The colonel's reasoning reminds me of nothing so much as that adduced by some divines of the Scottish Church, who protested against the induction of chloroform. "Pain was sent us by Providence," said the worthy ministers, "and it is therefore sinful to abolish it." Colonel Wintle's line of argument is that smallpox has been also sent by Providence and that it becomes immoral to take any steps to neutralise its mischief. When once it has been concisely stated, it needs no further agitation.

In the second place is the mode of treatment a success? It has been before the public for nearly a hundred years, during which time it has been thrashed out periodically in learned societies, argued over in medical journals, examined by statisticians, sifted and tested in every conceivable method, and the result of it all is that among those who are brought in practical contact with disease, there is a unanimity upon the point which is more complete than upon any other medical subject. Homoeopath and allopath, foreigner and Englishman, find here a common ground for agreement. I fear that the testimony of the Southsea ladies which Col. Wintle quotes, or that of the district visitors which he invokes, will hardly counter-balance this consensus of scientific opinion.

The ravages made by smallpox in the days of our ancestors can hardly be realised by the present sanitary and well-vaccinated generation. Macaulay remarks that in the advertisements of the early Georgian era there is hardly ever a missing relative who is not described as "having pock marks upon his face." It was universal, in town and in country, in the cottage and in the palace. Mary, the wife of William the Third, sickened and died of it. Whole tracts of country were decimated. Now-a-days there is many a general practitioner who lives and dies without having ever seen a case. What is the cause of this amazing difference? There is no doubt what the cause appeared to be in the eyes of the men who having had experience of the old system saw the Jennerian practice of inoculation come into vogue. When in 1802 Jenner was awarded £30,000 by a grateful country the gift came from men who could see by force of contrast the value of his discovery.

I am aware that Anti-Vaccinationists endeavour to account for the wonderful decrease of smallpox by supposing that there has been some change in the type of the disease. This is pure assumption, and the facts seem to point in the other direction. Other zymotic diseases have not, as far as we know, modified their characteristics, and smallpox still asserts itself with its ancient virulence whenever sanitary defects, or the prevalence of thinkers of the Colonel Wintle type, favour its development. I have no doubt that our recent small outbreak in Portsmouth would have assumed formidable proportions had it found a congenial uninoculated population upon which to fasten. In the London smallpox hospital nurses, doctors and dressers have been in contact with the sick for more than fifty years, and during that time there is no case on record of nurse, doctor, or dresser catching the disease. They are, of course, periodically vaccinated. How long, I wonder, would the committee of the Anti-Vaccination Society remain in the wards before a case broke out among them?

As to the serious results of vaccination, which Colonel Wintle describes as indescribable, they are to a very large extent imaginary. Of course there are some unhealthy children, the offspring of unhealthy parents, who will fester and go wrong if they are pricked with a pin. It is possible that the district visitors appealed to may find out some such case. They are certainly rare, for in a tolerably large experience (five years in a large hospital, three in a busy practice in Birmingham, and nearly six down here) I have only seen one case, and it soon got well. Some parents have an amusing habit of ascribing anything which happens to their children, from the whooping-cough to a broken leg, to the effects of their vaccination. It is from this class that the anti-vaccinationist party is largely recruited.

In conclusion I would say that the subject is of such importance, ancestors call and our present immunity from small pox so striking, that it would take a very strong case to justify a change. As long as that case is so weak as to need the argument of morality to enforce it I think that the Vaccination Acts are in no great danger of being repealed.

It was Yours faithfully,

A. CONAN DOYLE, M.D., C.M.

Bush Villa, July 14th, 1887(x)

#arthur conan doyle #vaccination #bolded sections by me #long post

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wendystales · 3 years

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Memories - lrh (Chapter Eighteen)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Seventeen ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Chapter Nineteen

I remember the first time I really wanted to see New York. I must have been about 12 years old and was watching a random episode of Friends that was on TV. I saw those flashes of the city between one scene and another, and I thought it was amazing, the great stone jungle.

When I turned 16, my dad gifted me with a trip to New York, not because it was my favorite place in the world, but because it was on sale. There were 10 days where the only time I stopped to rest was bedtime. We went to almost every tourist spot, took thousands of photos and it was definitely one of the best trips I've ever been on.

Now, the city that I once wanted to know and live in, like the characters in Friends, felt like a prison. I wasn't there of my own free will or for a truly irrefutable proposal. I was there out of fear and passion, the most dangerous mixture.

I believe that at some point, a few months from now, I'm going to start loving New York, but right now, I can only feel contempt.

I pass through the arrivals gate, looking at those millions of unfamiliar faces, waiting for someone. I'm looking for a sign with my name or the logo of the Hastings Agency.

I find my name in the hands of a boy a little taller than me. Dark hair and fair skin, he needs sun. In an impeccable suit, but fumbling with his cell phone and notepad.

I approach slowly, able to hear his voice, replaying a million things. He said something about waiting for me to arrive and taking me to the hotel. Something about treating me kindly and not asking questions. I stop in front of him with a sympathetic smile, watching him widen his eyes and quickly turn off his cell phone.

“Miss McGonagall, welcome to New York.” he takes my hand, squeezing it and shaking it quickly. “I'm Edward. I will be responsible for your schedule.” I can't control the smile, noticing him nervousness. In other words, he was my Noah.

“Hi! Yeah, you can call me Marnie, that's fine. I prefer, actually.”

“Oh! Of course.” his cheeks turn pink. “Well, I'll drop you off at the hotel to rest and tomorrow at 8:00 am you should be at Valentino's studio for the rehearsal of the new bag collection. At 2:45 pm you should already be at Chanel's studio, they want to take your measurements and do some color and fabric tests for the fashion show at the end of the month. Then, at 5:00 pm, you will participate in the E! podcast, and I believe that after that you will be free for the rest of the day.” he passes it on to me as we head out of the airport.

“OK!” that's all I have to say.

“Sorry if I'm being nosy, but were you the one who required a lot of work for the next two months? I mean, you have a really busy schedule. If you don't want something, I can try to help.” he flips through the calendar while we wait for a car.

“No! It's OK. I was the one who asked. I was down for a while and I need to get back to work.” I give a slight smile, debating. "Hm, was the doctor I asked for by any chance be marked?"

“Yes! Wednesday at 3pm.” he smiles proudly, making me smile too. Edward seems like a nice guy.

We got into a silver car and went to the hotel. Along the way, Edward answers a few calls, closing in on his tasks. I seize the moment and close myself in my own world. I get my cell phone, turning it on and seeing that tsunami of people looking for me. Missed calls, messages, dm on twitter and instagram, everyone looking for me, but not him.

I lock my cell phone, trying to focus my mind on the new beginning I sought for myself. I admire the city through the car window, trying to find a piece of home there. I feel the phone vibrate in my lap with Kyleen's name, but I just decline the call. In seconds, the screen lights up again and several messages come in, I believe they are hers, but I don't even bother to look. I have no courage.

The car stops in front of the Intercontinental, and just like that, Edward jumps out of the car.

“Your loft, unfortunately, is not ready yet. So you're going to have to stay here for a few days.” he explains, heading towards the reception desk.

I stand behind him, taking in the details of the hotel. Before long, I'm entering a room on the 14th floor, with a beautiful view of the city. The bags are left in the small room before the bedroom.

I smile at my new “Noah” showing that everything is perfect.

“Good! I'll let you rest for tomorrow. Anything, these are my phones.” he gives me a card. "And you can call me at any time. I live near here, I will come in a few minutes.”

“Thank you so much, Edward. You are very kind." Again, your cheeks turn pink.

As he heads for the door, I start rummaging through my bags for pajamas.

“Hm, sorry if I'm not being professional right now, but since I believe we'll be working together in the next few months, I imagine a good relationship is essential, so you can call me Eddie.”

I open an even bigger smile, seeing that Eddie was willing to make a friendship, which is perhaps the thing I need most at the moment.

“Thanks, Eddie!” he smiles and this time he walks away, leaving me alone again.

I go back to looking for a more comfortable outfit, ignoring my cell phone blinking on the table as I muted it. I grab my clothes, heading to a shower and stay there for a long time, letting the water take everything.

When I get out of the shower, I pick up the bedroom phone, dialing my mother's number, I don't want to take the risk of answering any of my cell phone calls.

"Hello?" her lost tone makes me smile weakly.

“Hi Mom!”

“Hi, my love. How are you? Marnie, what's going on? Leah came here to say you left without saying goodbye. I called Luke, but he did not answer me and Noah said something about you being to move to New York, you told me it would be just a month.” I cover the phone, not wanting her to hear my cry, letting the tears fall. "Marnie?"

“I'm sorry, Mom.” I can't control my voice and pretend it's okay.

“Honey, what's going on? You can tell me. Mom will help you.” I realize she wants to cry too, and that hurts me more.

“I needed to do this, needed to get away from him.” the revelation comes out before I can see it.

"He who? Luke? Why? I thought everything was fine.” her desperate tone returns.

“I'm sorry I can't talk.” I close my throat, holding back tears. “I just want to let you know that I arrived well and that everything is fine.”

“Fine? Marnie, just look at your voice, your condition. I saw what you did to the apartment. Honey, things aren't fine.” now she was angry.

“Mom, please just trust me. I know what I'm doing.” Do I? I clear my throat, holding back the emotion. “I just wanted to call to say I got okay. Later we'll talk.” I hang up the phone before she asks anything else.

I head to the bathroom, drying my hair. I notice that yesterday's anger is still in me as I can't face my image in the mirror, refusing to look deep into my eyes.

With dry hair, I go back to my room, thinking about taking a nap, since I haven't slept all night and even less on the flight. I close my eyes, trying to focus my thoughts on something else. I think about that taxi I saw earlier, trying to park. Or people crossing the street without looking at the sign. At the cookie shop I want to see.

I manage to evade Luke's, my mother's, John's, and Noah's voices, giving myself more and more to the sleep that finally came. Far away, I hear someone knocking hard on the door, but I ignore it, as I had the same thoughts yesterday morning. But I wake up when the pounding comes back stronger and Leah's voice enters the room.

“Marnie Elizabeth McGonagall, open this shit now before I drop it and you know I'm capable of it.” I leap out of bed, running to the door.

She can’t be here.

I open the door, revealing Leah with perhaps the worst expression I've ever seen in the world. She was furious, if not more so. As she storms into my room without waiting for an invitation, I quickly look down the hall, seeing a couple look at me startled. I smile awkwardly, closing the door.

“What are you doing here?” I question, still not understanding.

"What are you doing here? And without warning anyone. Fading in the morning. Breaking up with Luke. What the fuck was that?” she screams.

For a second, I see that my amnesia was an issue with my plan. By not remembering my friendship with everyone, I really believed that I just left and everything would be fine. I didn't imagine anyone would cross the country for me, to understand what was going on.

And if Leah did it, it's a matter of hours before someone else does. They weren't going to leave me alone, they weren't going to forget me, and they weren't going to let this story pass. I need to push them away, but I don't know how.

"Go on, Marnie. What the fuck is going on? And if you tell me it's a job offer, I swear I'll fly at you without pity or mercy, and I'll slap the truth out.” she cross her arms.

I consider the last option a lot because I know she can do it. But I won't tell her the truth, that's not an alternative. I want to believe that if I don't back off, she'll see I'm not lying and won't attack me. And even if she tries, I just run away, I'm closer to the door and there's an armchair between us.

"But it is what it is!" I shrug.

“Stop it!” she screams. “Stop lying, Marnie. Everyone. Everyone knows you're lying, so why don't you tell the truth?” she waves her hands through the air.

“Because there's no other truth, Leah. Will I have to draw it for you?” I make the same moves she does.

“Be my guest!” she sits on the couch. I sigh wearily. I haven't slept for hours, I'm angry with myself and the world and now that I thought the situation was resolved and I just had to go on with my life, she comes and messes everything up.

“Why are you here?” I stay upright.

“I do not know! It must be cause you went crazy and disappeared without saying anything. Didn't answer my calls, no one had any answers about what was going on. So I took my father's jet and came to resolve this situation and I don't leave here without an answer at least.”

In the same way I laugh at Noah, I laugh at her, thinking it will fix everything. Leah carries the same expression as her brother, neutral, mocking.

“Why did you break up with Luke?” she asks quietly.

The mention of his name makes me shiver. I notice how my stomach turns and try to ignore it. I wonder if I can subtly extract some information from his state, but I don't want her to think I still care about him.

"Cause I wasn't in the mood anymore." I shrug, walking through space.

“My God, you've actually lied better.” I glare at her. “You know you're in trouble here, I know you better than anyone. I know you are lying and that you are going through some difficult situation. I even have my theories. So you're going to have to work a lot harder to trick me or get me out of here.” she cracks a smile, feeling victorious.

"Oh do you have? What are your theories?” I mock her.

“The first is that you really freaked out with amnesia and you can't handle it. The second is that you can't handle your feelings about Luke, it happened once before. And the third is that someone put some shit in your head and made you believe that everything would be better if you were out of the way.” I feel her gaze burning into me, looking for any reaction.

I let out a laugh, not forced, nervous that she got it right. Leah raises an eyebrow.

“You really traveled on your theories. Sorry, none are right.”

As if by magic, the answer appears to me. The only way I was going to get rid of everyone and go through with the plan without a hitch was to make her hate me. Make everyone hate me, just like I did Luke.

Just considering their hate for me makes my heart ache. But I need to do this. For Luke. For the boys. It's for their success.

“You know, a few months ago you were asked to be in a movie and you didn't take it cause you said you were a terrible actress. Isn't that right?” she gets up again. “Noah told me you said you were doing this for Luke, because you loved him. Marnie, what are you trying to hide?” she comes closer.

I feel dirty because of the attitude I'm going to take. It's low, very low, but I need her to hate me.

"Look who talks about hiding." I give a cynical laugh. Leah looks at me confused. "Don't you have anything to tell too?" she still doesn't understand. “You and Kyleen?”

Hastings freezes. The bitter taste of my act starts to fill my mouth. I’m sorry, Leah. I’m so sorry.

“How do you know?” she takes a step back.

"Who do you think closed the bathroom door on Ash's birthday?" I raise my eyebrows.

“Is not the same thing.”

“It isn’t? Aren't you hiding something from all of us?” I force a smile like hers a few minutes ago.

“No! Cause I'm not pushing everyone away, I'm not telling lies. And if you asked me, I would tell you the truth. Deep down, you know why I didn't say anything. You know my dad hasn't accepted Noah yet, that this is a problem in our family, and you know he wouldn't accept me either. You know that deep down I'm trying to protect both of us.”

“Oh! Do I?” I debauchery more. Right now, I feel horrible when I see your eyes water. I'm so, so sorry.

“I know what you're trying to do and I'm not going to stage it.” she walks past me to the door.

"Didn't you want to talk? I am talking.” Leah turns to me, straining the knife I carried in my chest, letting me see her crying face.

“You're trying to make me hate you.” now I'm the one who freezes. She laughs. “See how I know you? You are very predictable, Marnie. And as much as I know of your intention, I will not allow you to reach your goal. I hope that one day, not too far away, you realize what a big shit you're doing.” she opens the door, going. “Oh, and before I forget, since it's meant to hurt. Congrats, since your little chat with Luke, he's been locked in his room, needing Michael to keep an eye on him.” so Leah slams the door and strikes the final blow.

I bite the inside of my mouth, letting the tears fall. Honestly, I didn't even have the strength to hold back anymore. The rage burning inside me gives way to pain. I imagine Luke locked in his room, lying on the bed, hating me. Hating what we had and what we thought we had.

I walk over to my suitcase, pulling out a package, with the photos I'd taken from the box and the little white box he'd given me. I open it, holding the necklace with his name on it, the one he gave me.

Even knowing what I had to do, I wouldn't get rid of this necklace, I don't have the courage. It was easier to buy an equal one and put it in his hand. What he did to me would be kept with me forever.

““Closed eyes.” he fights.

"I have my eyes closed." I rebate. “Lucas…” I chide him, when I feel his lips on the back of my neck.

“Sorry, I got distracted.” I hold back the urge to laugh. “Closed eyes.”

"If you say it one more time, you'll get hit." I threat.

"How, if you can't see me?" right now, the urge to hit him is so strong that I follow the sound of his voice, trying to kick him. “Hey! No rudeness, otherwise you'll be left without a gift.” the false authoritative tone makes me angrier. “Good girl!”

“Go!” I kicked.

I'm startled by the icy touch against my neck. It's a necklace. Eagerly, I touch the pendant, recognizing the shape. He didn't do it.

“You can open it.” his hands move to my hips, hugging me.

With my eyes open, I run my vision to my neck, finding there a necklace just like his but blue.

“Happy Birthday!” he drops a kiss on my cheek.

I hold the blue quartz, seeing Luke's name engraved on the back. I let a stupid smile spread across my face, glaring at my boyfriend with the same.

"Want to explain why we're wearing practically identical necklaces?"

“It's a little obvious. Couples wear rings and I know what a problem you have with rings.”

“It’s not a problem.” I try to defend myself.

“It's just Alzheimer's. You know, in some people, it starts before they're 70 years old.” I hit him, and he laughs, before he hugs me. "Like I was saying, I know you're not into wearing a ring, so since I already had my necklace, I thought you'd have yours. That way we'll always be close to each other's hearts.” I rest my hands on his shoulders, standing on tiptoes.

"Have I told you I love you today?" I whisper, moving closer.

“Not after 5 pm.” he pouted, looking at the clock on the wall.

I don't know how I managed to kiss him with such a stupid smile on my face.

“Why do I like you, huh?” I question, stealing a little kiss.

“Because I'm cheesy and romantic. And even if you deny it, I know you get attached to it.” he opens a victorious smile.

"Don't ever say 'get attached' again." I beg laughing.

"What is it, bae? That was awesome.” he laughs.

“No!” I scream, laughing.

"What is it, babe girl? Don't you stick to my way of get in?” he keeps teasing me.

I place my lips on yours, determined to shut your mouth and thank you that it works. My mental reminder of “we're late for dinner” evaporates when his hands reach under my shirt. I scratch the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

“We're late for dinner.” he says against my mouth as I start to unbutton his shirt.

“Just say the traffic was like hell.” I suggest kissing his neck.

Luke accepts the idea, picking me up and walking me back to the bedroom."

It's not hard to know that we were late for dinner that day. But I didn't care, I had been given a necklace with his name on it, a necklace that showed how our relationship was getting more and more serious.

I also realize that the two times I got this necklace, at least once I ended up in bed with him. In fact, in both, but only one made it to the end.

“I hate myself.” I say tiredly, going to the minibar to get anything containing alcohol that makes me forget everything.

I call the front desk for two bottles of champagne and the biggest snack they have. I pick up the small whiskey bottles, turning one after the other, as if they were shot. I shake my head, wanting the effect to start faster.

“I hate myself. Leah hates me. Kiki must hate me now too. Just like Noah and everyone else there. Everybody hates me.” I turn the last one over, shaking my head once more. “Luke hates me. Hates me too much.” I comment, hugging the pillow.

I pick up a Polaroid of ours, staring at our happiness marked there. What am I doing?

I throw my head in my hands, lost. I wonder what might happen if I crawl into bed and don't go out for the rest of the month. Probably more people will hate me, but who doesn't hate me now? I mean, just get in line.

Awakened from the thought, when someone knocks on the door. For a second, I wonder who it was, then remember I ordered room service. I walk to the door, feeling the weight of the six small bottles.

My stomach churns and I feel an overwhelming urge to vomit as I land my eyes on the redhead in front of me. Red-haired?

"Bethany?"

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creepyalienghost · 3 years

Text

Doctors assistant

In every town there lays its own legends. Legends of ghosts and hauntings. Legends of aliens and abductions. Legends of cryptids and government projects. And legends of cursed lands. In the town he lived in had many different tales. One tale that happened to be somewhat true was that people were going missing. People’s love ones go out for a walk or running an errand never return. The cops looked hard for each person but they never found the missing people. So many people were missing that there were a missing persons board at that park now. Another tale was about the undead. There’s reports of sightings of the undead roaming in the streets and in the rooms. Some say they had seen them eat and attack people or animals. Others say they had seen a strange figure with them almost like it was leading them. Some claim they been attacked themselves by the undead. A more fearsome legend was that of a humanoid walking though the streets and alleyways at night. It was Dressed all in black and it’s face was white as a ghost. People say it’s death heading its way towards a near deceased person to lead them in the afterlife. Others think it’s the same figure leading the undead around.

Sammy loves reading up on creepy legends around his town just as he loves his music. He would often go to to library to search of different topics and stories on the computer or read a book and newspaper articles on them. Sure he doesn’t believe most of these stories but this like music helped him escape reality from His life at home and school.

The other day he watched a YouTube video of somebody going to explore a haunted house in their area and it gave Sammy the idea to go searching for these legends to. It would be fun to explore and see what lurks around plus it would let him escape his rotten fathers abuse when he would come home drunk. Tonight sadly was one of those nights.

Sammy made sure his father wouldn’t be coming in his room anytime soon to catch him before he packed a back with the items he needs. He stuffed a few bottles of water and some snacks from his stash as well as a flashlight. He dressed himself up for the cool night with sweets and a hoodie then he opened the window, grabbed his bag and hoped out into the night.

He was off down the side walk, heading to the more empty part of town where quit a bit of reporters said the undead was seen at. most of the buildings and houses there was run down or abandoned. No one really goes around there unless for trouble. It only took Sammy half an hour to arrive there. Once there he dogged out his flash light from his bag and flipped it on. It was dark other then his own light. There was no other lights on around and the there was no moon out to light the sky

He looked around him for a second, only seeing the decaying buildings, then chose a direction to go. He believed he was heading south tours the old abandoned school but he soon found out he was wrong when he ending up in the decaying factory. It use to be where their income came from for this part of town but it long since Closed down do to better jobs else were. Now it’s windows are busted out or boarded up, it’s roof is mostly caved in and nature has begun taken back the land. Sammy decided this was the perfect place to explore at and carefully went in though a broken window.

Inside the abandoned factory he looked around his surroundings, finding himself in one of the offices. It was small with only a chair to the side and covered in cobwebs and dust. He stepped out into the long dark hallway and shined his light down both sides of the hallway. To his left were more offices and to his right, were doors to a new area, He went right going deeper into the factory.

After a few minutes of walking around, he heard another set of footsteps echoing throughout the factory. His fear spiked up as he tried to pinpoint where they were actually coming from but it was impossible to figure out. The footsteps seemed to be growing nearer him by the second making Sammy begin to panic. He flashed his light left to right to left again as he remembered what frightening things he had read. Images of Horrible-looking zombies eating away at you and death chasing you though the darkness filled his mind.

Until his light landed on a tall figure dressed in black and white. He only saw it for a second before he went into flight or fight mode. He had chosen flight and took off away from the dark thing. He ran though the darkness as fast as he can and ends up running into something. Something Squishy and slimy. Something that smells like rote He slowly raised his light up to see what it was and what he saw scared him to the core. It was a almost a man but it’s skin was pale blue, it’s it’s eyes was unseeing and he was leaking some kind of black goo from his mouth and injuries. It was an undead!

Sammy screamed and ran away from it, dropping his flashlight in the process. He could see nothing at all he was just running in the darkness with his arms out from fear. He was careless and didn’t realize the floor was soggy and falling apart. The floor underneath him collapsed under his weight and Sammy fell though, hitting the floor hard with a thud under rubble.

The tall dark figure had heard the crash all the way from the old boiler room and had quickly pinpoint its location. Good thing to. Poor thing was hurt quit a bit, his legs and arms have large gashes and his head was bleeding. The being had a soft spot for children and of course he was a doctor. His expertise was on one disease but he knew how to patch up wounds and make sure they didn’t get infected. The doctor picked up the lifeless body of the boy and made sure he was breathing, wish he was, then he checked around his skull as he made his way tours his lab to see if it was cracked. Which thank the heavens it wasn’t. This boy was going to be alright in the long run.

As the doctor laid the boy down on the metal table he noticed some bruising on his wrist. He knew it couldn’t have been from the fall but didn’t question it. Boys do tell to get hurt while playing and it was most likely that. But as he started to clean his cuts he noticed more and more disturbing things. Old little bursts on areas like his arms and neck. Fading scares to from what looks like from whips. The doctor sadly came to the conclusion he was being continuously hurt by someone.

—-

Sammy Slowly starts regaining consciousness. It started with small throbbing pain though out his body but once he shifted to the side a sharp pain shoot though him, making him set up and scream out. The pain was coming from his left leg but the damage was covered up by Bandages. He looked over himself and notice the same for both his arms and other leg, even his head. Someone had helped him out. But they also seen his secret.

Sammy carefully slid off the metal table, making sure he was steady before using his full weight to stand. He quietly limp to the open door on the other side of the room and peaked out. He quickly noticed the sound of breathing and looked at the Direction it came from. The room was mostly dark but Sammy could see well enough the same strange figure from before. It’s back was tours him and it was working on something Sammy couldn’t see, but sure can smell. It smelled like death. Fear begins to build up in him as he watched the thing do it’s work. There were the sounds of wet and sticky slushing noises coming from whatever it was doing that made Sammy want to puke but he force himself not to.

“I know you’re there, child.” It spoke without looking back.

Sammy was caught off guard by this and froze in place. He wanted to run, to get the hell outta here, but his feet were like cement in place, connected to the ground beneath him. He found out his Voice voice wouldn’t work ether. It wouldn’t let him scream nor cry or call out for help. Not a single peep would come out. His body wasn’t reacting the way he wanted it to.

The thing stopped its work, turning to Sammy. It appears to be wearing a 14th Century plague doctor mask but Sammy gets the feeling that it wasn’t a mask. It was his real face Sammy was seeing.

“I sense fear in you” the being said. “No need for fear my child. I do no harm.” The being informed, kneeling down to his height. But the fearful eyes of the boy landed on the work behind him then pointed at the dead body as if proving the being wrong. The being glaze at his work then back at him. “I do no harm for fun, my child. This poor soul was ill.” It said with pain in its voice.

The boy tilted his head. “ill?” He ask. “What was wrong with him?” He replied more curious now then fearful.”

The being admired the child want for knowledge of his work however the being didn’t want to put the boy in danger. Groups like The foundation and goc could hurt him or use him for information. “I think it’s best if you didn’t know child. Besides why are you here at this ungodly time?” The being ask. “Shouldn’t you be at home with your family?”

The being saw the boys curiosity fade back to fear. And at this point the being realized who was hurting the child. “It was them wasn’t it?” It had ask. “The old scars and bruises?”

The boy looked down at his arms for a moment before nodding. “Yes ...”

The being knew it couldn’t force the child back to that horrible place. He couldn’t do that to an innocent boy. The foundation was bad but it wouldn’t put children at harm. At worst the foundation and other groups would make him apart of there beliefs. But they would take care of him if they ever got him. As for the being, he could use an assistant and teach him as well as take care of him.

The being made the decision and held out his hand. “I am in need for an assistant, my child.” He replied. “Would you care to?”

A big smile spread over the boys face and he took the beings hand. “ I would love to, sir!”

#bendy and the ink machine #sammy lawrence #scp 049 #the plague doctor #scp

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okletsgoalltheway · 3 years

Text

Another hero stands up and risks it all. Niall McEvoy is an ice hockey player who has represented Ireland for the past thirteen years. He was a key member of the squad that won the silver medal at the 2017 Development Cup in Andorra.

Niall emailed his team mates and the coaches of the Irish National Ice Hockey team to tender his resignation:

Good morning gentlemen,

Firstly I would like to apologise for not making last nights zoom call. I had fallen asleep after work, due to being at a protest for the majority of Wednesday night(July 14th 2021) in our nations capital.

We live in exceptional times.

I will take this opportunity to make you aware that I am immediately resigning from the Senior Men’s, Irish National Ice Hockey Team. If you bare with me, I will explain in detail as to why.

Let me start by stating this is in no way an attack on the Irish Ice Hockey Association, our managers or coaches for the countless hours they put into this squad and organising trips abroad, along with the tireless work of attempting to open an ice rink in the Republic of Ireland.

Instead this is directly attributed to the recent bill passed in the Irish government on Wednesday night/Thursday morning. I have attached the PDF, should you be inclined to browse it.

Ireland is now, officially, a Medical apartheid/Fascist State in line with the wider global control grid. The group of people acting as the Irish Government has been allowed, by our citizens, Gardaí and the Irish defence forces to erode our rights given to us under the Irish constitution, the UN declaration of human rights and have broken the Nuremberg code. Our inalienable rights have also been eroded over the past 16 months, which are given to us by God, not government. (which is still recognised as the highest authority whether you believe in God or not)

(I have attached links below to these rights)

I can no longer represent a country that has approved of the discrimination and segregation between vaccinated people and unvaccinated people. I will not be manipulated into taking a STILL experimental injection, with no licence, no long term safety or data, no legal liability for damages and only emergency use authorisation and zero proof of effectiveness/immunity. I will not risk my athletic abilities and normal functioning body. There are other well known and safe therapies available, like Ivermectin(peer reviewed/Nobel prize), which may be used before it comes to the need of any injection. I do not need to be a doctor to recognise this. The evidence is over whelming if you care to look.

I will not accept or consent to a “Vaccine passport”/digital passport, nor will I use a Qr code/track and trace system that allows this system to be implemented. This allows for total government control over the citizens of Ireland and akins us to cattle.

We now live in a two tier society.

As of July 15th 2021, my fiancée, my children, myself and many others became 2nd class citizens in Ireland. We can no longer do the same thing that 1st class citizens can do. We can no longer travel internationally without subjecting ourselves to medical intervention /testing(with a test not designed to detect illness) when we are not sick. (There are many studies showing that asymptomatic transmission is virtually non-existent).

The recent bill, gives the current ‘minister for health’ – Stephen Donnelly the power to decide what constitutes an indoor risk, including sports and leisure facilities (ice/Inline). He may decide on Monday it is a criminal offence to play indoor sport whereas on Tuesday it may be okay. This is extremely dangerous to our democracy. These laws are unjust and thus giving me the right not to follow them. Unfortunately the police forces in Ireland have allowed and supported the government by refusing to protect the people of Ireland from draconian lawmakers. I can no long trust those sworn by oath to protect us.

Many of you have seen the recent images of France as people protest en mass in regards to president macrons recent address which will make entering supermarkets, schools and working illegal unless vaccinated. This is an EU country. If they can do it in France they will do it here. They previously did it in Nazi Germany.

Now at this point you must ask yourself, if this is such an effective treatment, why are they rewarding those who take it with their rights back and punishing those who refuse, many of whom, including myself are at little risk from this supposed disease and its supposed variants (reminder, vaccines protect me. Not you)?

At this time, I feel obliged to take a stand on the matter even if you believe its not a big deal. I must, morally position myself Inline with what is right and just, and I hope you can understand where I am coming from.

I hope that these laws will be reversed and that the criminals in government and the Gardaí who enforce such laws(and all covid restrictions) will be held accountable at some point in the future, as were those in the Nuremberg trials. (images attached for reference)

Until then, I once again state I will not represent a country who criminalises people who choose to live differently than the majority.

Hopefully in the near future I can tryout and rejoin this team that I have dedicated ALL of my adult life to, made life longs friends, which has also given me so much joy and happiness throughout the years.

I wanted to do this now instead of just before the upcoming development cup in October 2021, Germany, so that the coaches can fill the spot and train you guys, in your lines, in advance.

Ps* this is in no way a disregard to anyone who has been directly affected by an illness with the symptoms like the disease known as Covid-19. The government however has now directly impacted my children’s lives, unlike the illness, and I will not stand for this.

With all of my regards,

Niall McEvoy

Dundalk

Republic of Ireland

16th July 2021

*I give full permission for this email to be circulated and used once it is not taken out of context(always given in full context) or rewritten in anyway*

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es-mentiras · 4 years

Video

youtube

I Can't Stop Watching Contagion | Folding Ideas

Coping with crisis in the real world by confronting it in fiction

[O]ne purpose of fiction is that it allows us a space to practice intense emotions and states without exposing us to the complexities or harms of those states in reality. ... Watching a disaster film in a disaster, particularly one as sociologically driven as Contagion, is an extension of this. Rather than practicing intense emotional states before they happen, this instinct of exposing ourselves to what we’re already experiencing, amplifying existing emotional states, it works as a form of emotional inoculation. I am scared and anxious and uncertain, and so I will make myself more scared and more anxious and more uncertain, because it’s still fiction, it’s still safe, it still has an end. It is bounded. Things will get bad, things will then get worse, people will die. The world is unfair, it is unbalanced, it is unjust, and catastrophe will bring out both the best and worst of all of us. And then it will end.

...

There is an escapism to a story about horrible things, because that story is complete. It is bounded. It provides a framework to horror that doesn’t exist in the real present. Our future is uncertain, beset on all sides by devils, and we can come out better or we can come out worse or we can die and none of us knows which it will be and we’re all screaming at those in power to make the moral choice, to choose better.

...

On one hand I am deeply privileged to be in a position where I am and can remain isolated. On the other hand I can’t even think about the other hand.

Disease does not have a narrative meaning, it does not have an eye for poetry or twists or closure. The only meaning is in how we respond. So I watch Contagion over and over and over again. Because I need to practice emotions, and I need to live in a bounded world, and I need to believe we can choose better.

full video transcript under the cut:

[video is Dan Olson of Folding ideas lying on his couch, staring unmoving into the camera. scenes from Contagion are projected over him.]

VOICEOVER: This video is not an essay, it is a raw nerve.

Contagion is a 2011 film directed by Steven Soderbergh, starring an ensemble cast including Marion Cotillard, Matt Damon, Laurence Fishburne, Jude Law, Gwyneth Paltrow, and Kate Winslet. The film revolves around the origin, contraction, spread, and cure of the fictional MEV-1 virus, a highly contagious, aggressive, and fatal strain of hybrid bat and pig flu.

The initial patient, Beth Emhoff, played by Gwyneth Paltrow, contracts the virus in Macau after shaking hands with a casino chef who has recently handled an infected pig. She spreads the virus to several other people in the casino after they handle objects that she’s touched, such as gambling chips, a martini glass, and her cell phone. An important aspect of the film is that the fictional virus is highly transmissible via fomites, which are objects that an infected person has touched after touching their mouth or nose, coughing or sneezing on the object, or otherwise leaving infectious residue on an otherwise inert, non-biological object. A local waiter who handled her glass returns home, infecting members of his family before wandering into traffic in a fever-induced delirium where he is struck by a vehicle and killed. A Japanese businessman who shared chips with her returns to Tokyo where he falls ill rapidly, dying suddenly of a seizure on a crowded bus, infecting several bystanders who touch him or handrails that he touched. A Ukranian model who handled Beth’s phone flies to London where her symptoms also escalate rapidly while she transmits the disease to others via handling portfolios and riding in a cab.

Beth returns to America where she infects several people in Chicago, first her ex lover Jon who contracts it when they have sex while she is on layover, and a bartender at the airport who handles her credit card, before flying to Minneapolis where she infects the coworker who drives her home from the airport and her son Clark. A day or two later Beth’s husband, Mitch, played by Matt Damon, picks up Clark from school after Clark begins to exhibit a fever. While Beth and Mitch are talking in the kitchen Beth suddenly has a seizure. Mitch rushes her to the hospital, leaving Clark with a babysitter, but Beth’s condition continues to worsen, she fails to respond to treatment, and she dies. As a stunned Mitch is driving home he gets a call from the babysitter that Clark has possibly had a seizure and might not be breathing. Mitch tells her to call 911 immediately, but before anyone can get there Clark is already dead.

From there the story expands to encompass the doctors, politicians, reporters, hucksters, and ordinary people who are swept up in an all-encompassing pandemic that threatens to kill a quarter of the global population. The movie is an incredibly tense hundred minutes of society pushed to its breaking points, not as a fantastical disintegration into wastelands of leather-clad murder gangs or a zombie apocalypse, but one rooted in the historical reality of epidemics.

And I can’t stop watching it.

I have watched Contagion over fifteen times in the last two weeks. Several days I’ve just watched it on repeat two or three times. And I'm not alone. According to Netflix it is, at the time of writing, the second most watched thing in Canada. For weeks it has sat in the top ten.

Unlike many similar films, such as the 1995 film Outbreak starring Dustin Hoffman, the film is not about any one person, and there is no singular twist of victory. Rather it is an example of sociological storytelling. It’s about the systems and networks that these characters exist within, and how they both influence and are influenced by those systems, and what happens when those systems are placed under tremendous strain. Kate Winslet plays Dr. Erin Mears, a front line worker for the CDC who is sent to Wisconsin to track the transmission of the virus and contain its spread. Half way through the film she catches the virus herself, and then her condition worsens, and then she dies. It is unceremonious. It is not foreshadowed or paid off because it is not poetic, because pandemics are not poetic and don’t have a tight arc or an eye for narrative fulfillment. It doesn’t have meaning, the only meaning is in how we choose to respond.

Because this is sociological the movie doesn’t end when doctor Ally Hextall develops a vaccine. What would be the singular victory moment in most films is instead the beginning of a slow, painful march back to stability as first the vaccine needs to be mass produced, and then distributed to billions of people worldwide. It is a dangerous task that needs to be tightly controlled as it requires access to the isolated virus and thus is very slow to ramp up. The film trudges through the immense societal tension that is created when there is a cure, but it will take over a year to make and distribute enough for everyone, a situation that lays bare every societal privilege. Dr. Orantes, played by Marion Cotillard, is kidnapped and held ransom for the vaccine by Chinese villagers who are keenly aware that in the priority of global politics the poor, the rural, and the non-white are at the very back of the line. They are terrorists, but they’re not wrong, just desperate. They are at the back of the line, and the government throws them under the bus anyway. Despite the existence of a vaccine Mitch continues to keep his teenage daughter, Jory, under aggressive quarantine out of legitimate fear of the disease that has been amplified to paranoia by the trauma of losing Beth and Clark, the survivor’s guilt of being naturally immune, and the uncertainty of whether his daughter would share that immunity or not.

In December 2019 the coronavirus COVID-19 was identified by doctors in the city of Wuhan. Over the course of January and February the spread of the virus began to be identified in South Korea, Japan, and Italy and, gradually, most of the rest of the world. The disease itself is not exceptionally lethal when compared to epidemics such as the Black Death in the mid 14th century or the spread of Smallpox through indigenous populations following contact with Europeans in the 16th and 17th centuries, but, first of all, “better than the black death” is a pretty bad standard, and second on a global scale a mortality rate of 1-2 percent in an unchecked pandemic still means, in absolute terms, millions and millions of preventable deaths. This is compounded by the strain that mass illness, even one that is not terribly lethal, inherently places on an already strained society: crowding healthcare systems, disrupting infrastructure, and forcing people to choose between working while ill, and thus infecting others, or losing their jobs. A low mortality rate is often the result of adequate care, but the quality of care goes down as the number of severely ill goes up, as the number of infected healthcare workers reduces the number of people qualified and capable of administering that care. This, in turn, has a knock on effect where unrelated illnesses and injuries become more dangerous. A heart attack or broken leg that would be easily managed under normal circumstances becomes that much worse when there aren’t enough people to help, aren’t enough beds to go around. The more people who are exposed, the more need to roll the dice against that one to two percent, and the more are going to lose.

As of March 2020 most of the United States and Canada have entered a period of uncertain quarantining. Non-essential businesses are closed, events are canceled, workers are being sent home or laid off, borders are being shut down,and the economy is in freefall. Every existing societal problem, from income inequality to housing inequality to healthcare, is being stressed and amplified by not only the virus but the complicity of our governments. News comes out hourly about warnings the people in charge received months ago, and the ways in which they were either ignored or exploited for personal gain. Several American politicians were briefed on the security risks of COVID 19 in late January, and then took to Twitter to decry public fear as a partisan hoax while they dumped their stocks in preparation for a crash that they knew was coming. People in government, their corporate donors, and their pundit allies are getting anxious, debating breaking quarantine and telling everyone to go back to work and roll the dice on whether or not they’re going to die for the economy. We are standing on the precipice of a very uncertain future, and we don’t know if that future is days, weeks, months, or years away. This could be the new normal for a very long time.

So why do I keep watching Contagion?

A dimension of narrative that I like to bring up pretty regularly is the idea that one purpose of fiction is that it allows us a space to practice intense emotions and states without exposing us to the complexities or harms of those states in reality. This is typically in the context of the fanciful: reckless stunts, wild sex, gun fights, or general risky behaviour. We talked about this with Fifty Shades and the idea of non-consent as a fantasy subject.

Watching a disaster film in a disaster, particularly one as sociologically driven as Contagion, is an extension of this. Rather than practicing intense emotional states before they happen, this instinct of exposing ourselves to what we’re already experiencing, amplifying existing emotional states, it works as a form of emotional inoculation. I am scared and anxious and uncertain, and so I will make myself more scared and more anxious and more uncertain, because it’s still fiction, it’s still safe, it still has an end. It is bounded. Things will get bad, things will then get worse, people will die. The world is unfair, it is unbalanced, it is unjust, and catastrophe will bring out both the best and worst of all of us. And then it will end.

Is there looting, and arson, and murder? Yeah. But it is, ultimately, out of the ordinary. People get paranoid, people get desperate, they riot under stress, but even when food supply lines break down, the world isn’t summarily turned over to those with the bullets and the willingness to use them. There is no Mad Max dystopia, no Fallout post-apocalypse, because at the end of the day humans are pro-social. The cooperative survive.

In 1349, in the midst of the black death, it must have looked like the end of the world. Entire households, entire villages, dying a gross, horrifying, pain ful death, month after month after month. Then for generations, every year wondering if this was the year the plague returned. Was this the year there would be no one left to bury the dead. But people survived. The working class, who bore the brunt of the disease and saw the bodies of their families, clans, and communities piled like cord wood, fought back against the aristocrats who isolated themselves in their towers and remote estates. It was messy, and bloody, and it took decades, but in the end serfdom was abolished. Europe lost upwards of sixty percent of its population over the course of five years, but it wasn’t Armageddon. Things kept going, people kept going, and Europe would go on to be absolute bastards to the rest of the world.

The disease in Contagion is not unrealistic, real diseases have been as deadly, or worse, but it is dramatic. It moves very, very quickly, is highly contagious, and kills a huge number of those who are infected. In reality this aggressiveness would kinda work against the disease, and, morbidly, would help responders limit the spread. It moves so fast and kills so quickly that there’s little question of who has it, and within a couple days everyone who has it is either recovered or dead. This was the aspect of the SARS epidemic that allowed response teams to effectively quarantine the virus where it burnt itself out. That said it’s not impossible that something could spread so aggressively, be so incredibly contagious, that it could spread like wildfire and become almost impossible to contain before anyone even knows what’s going on. But it’s undeniably dramatic and emotionally effective.

48 hours. We can contain two days in our head. A situation where things will get materially worse literally tomorrow or the day after if nothing is done right this second, that’s a comprehensible timeline. Forty eight hours is short enough that in a catastrophe, driven by adrenaline and stress and necessity, you can stay awake that long without even realizing it. COVID’s life cycle is closer to a month. By the time you get sick you’ve already been sick for two weeks, and now you’re in for hell for another two to four weeks. It’s just past the range where it really feels real. Two weeks isn’t long, but it’s still over the line into the indeterminate “future”.

This problem extends in both directions. There’ s only so much space in the mind for time. As the news ramps up, as things get worse, the present crowds out history. The distance between the irrelevant past and the now contracts. ’Days ago’ becomes distant. ‘Months ago’ is irrelevant. Years ago is ancient. By evening even earlier the same day is suspect in its relevance to the Now. We remember January but it has as much presence in the mind as childhood. Our lives become superliminal, displaced from time, as we wrestle with our own minds and how they try to process the chronology of our own existence. By Sunday, Friday no longer feels real, and yet every day’s news is the consequence of decisions made fourteen, twenty one, twenty eight days ago. Today’s responses won’t yield results until well into next month. This flaw in our meat is a gap into which charlatans, hucksters, and conmen can drive a wedge and pry us open, and pry they will try.

When I first saw Contagion in 2012 I thought the weakest element was what I considered at the time to be the demonization of online media. Jude Law’s character plays an online pundit and conspiracy theorist who preaches to an audience of millions about an herbal tincture of forsythia that he claims is the cure, a cure he just-so-happens to be selling. It is, in 2020, the realest element of the film. Herbal cures, hydrogen water, steam treatment, teas, magnets, suspensions of silver, tinctures, and tonics. We’ve got pastors standing at the pulpit telling their congregation it's all a hoax, that there’s no reason to suspend services, that their nebulous enemies are just trying to shut them down. We now live in a world where the US president told people based on a rumour that chloroquine, a drug used for treating malaria and lupus, was the cure, so a man in Arizona ate a packet of fish tank cleaner containing the chemical. He’s dead now. And that is, again, all part of it.

And I am in an absolute haze. My daily life has not much been impacted, overtly. I’m already an agoraphobic shut-in wh o worksonline and has a bad sleep schedule. But it’s too much. I’m tired all the time. I can’t pay attention to the news and Ican’t not pay attention to the news. Working is difficult. I have a long history of respiratory illness. I am at risk.

On one hand I am deeply privileged to be in a position where I am and can remain isolated. On the other hand I can’t even think about the other hand.

[end transcript]

#i've seen a lot of posts like ''haha time to distract myself from irl horror with fictional horror!'' and i just wanted y'all to know #that that's a totally reasonable response to have; you're not weird for doing that. so this isn't precisely tma but i think it fits anyway #covid 19 #coronavirus #tma #horror #contagion

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lorylilybomber · 5 years

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Okay so I have an anime crossover issue:

I am watching and LOVING the Fruits Basket reboot. And I am also a long-time lover of OHSHC. And it occurred to me that, while crossovers are often very cringey, the opportunities between these two shows, if handled correctly, work like a dream. And there ARE plenty of FBxOHSHC fanfics out there.

The problem?

Hardly any of them seem to take proper advantage of the opportunities presented. The largest percentage of fic I’ve seen can be placed into one of two camps: “look at my OC she’s the secret 14th zodiac member and she goes to Ouran” or “Haruhi is actually a sohma and the secret 14th Zodiac member”

First off: look—there is no wolf in the Chinese zodiac. There is no fox, or raven, or jaguar, or—just, stop.

Second of all, there’s plenty of new ways to play with this crossover concept that are lots of fun to read—because they don’t have to change the rules of either universe!

(also, why do the Sohmas always have to go to Ouran? Can’t it be the other way around? I’m just saying, as sweet as Tohru is, she is canonically nowhere close to winning any sort of scholarship to attend school at Ouran, even if the sohma boys do.)

Imagine, if you will, some of the following scenarios:

Tamaki, in one of his usual bids for host club bonding and commoner research, arrange for the host club to attend a commoner high school for a month. In order to convince Kyoya to come with, Tamaki specifically chooses a high school that is attended by members of the influential-yet-hermit-level-elusive Sohma family. Once they’re there, of course, Tamaki wastes no time establishing a place for the host club to continue their activities, because beauty must be shared with the world, of course!!! From there, imagine some of these scenarios:

1: Tamaki hears of the school’s Prince, and seeks out Yuki in order to induct (or, more accurately, abduct) him into the Host Club whether he likes it or not. (On that note, imagine how the Prince Yuki fan club might react to the Host Club’s presence).

2: Contrariwise, Tamaki knows of the Prince, but is more interested in the school’s aloof Tsudere Type, Kyo. Cue Kyo being incredibly angry and flustered as Tamaki and the twins keep kidnapping him to try and induct him. Possibly include Tamaki noticing kyo’s feelings for Tohru and deciding to coach him on how to be a true gentleman.

3: Imagine Shigure’s reaction to EITHER of those events.

4: in a different or perhaps related chain of events, imagine Tamaki meeting Ayame, essentially adopting him as his senpai, and the learning about his estranged relationship with Yuki. The Tamaki Suoh we know would immediately commence Operation Brotherly Reconciliation before you could blink.

5: imagine after establishing the Commoner High School Host Club, Momiji decides this looks fun and wants to hang out there. They don’t take him on as a host, since they already have Hunny, but he’s still happy to have made a bunch of new friends! And the best part is!!! They’re all guys!!!! And they’re (almost) all emotionally available!!! Which means he can hug them without restraint!!! He hugs Hunny! He hugs Tamaki!!! He thinks about hugging Kyoya but second guesses himself!!! He hugs Haruh—wait.

6: immediately after point number 5, Kyo and Yuki are rapidly switching between panicked and confused. While Yuki and Haruhi are basically Spider-Man-pointing at each other saying “Explain????” Kyo does one of two things:

7: he blurts out something relevant but woefully poorly contexted to Haruhi like “WAIT HOLD ON TAKE OFF YOUR SHIRT.” Which elicits a violent reaction from the twins/Tamaki which is headed off by Kyoya/Mori.

8: he grabs Momiji and starts shaking and yelling at him for being stupid and Hunny’s affection for a) his new friend and b) cute bunnies translates into him twisting Kyo’s arm or otherwise kicking his butt to take Momiji away from him because remember, kids! “picking on [Hunny’s] friends is a no-no!”

9: Kyo is dumbstruck because wait this twerp knows martial arts? Cue a running joke/side arc throughout the story in which Kyo keeps trying to get Hunny to fight him because getting beaten up by a twerp is stupidly emasculating and Kyo needs to win back his pride. Meanwhile Hunny sees no reason to fight or indulge Kyo and keeps refusing him (you know..because he’s actually a mature 18 year old). The arc may end in Kyo learning to humble himself and asking Hunny if he could maybe teach him some moves? Followed by Hunny beaming at him and saying yes.

10: how would Kyoya react if he were to learn the Sohma secret? How would he negotiate with the Sohma family? Could he? What stops Hatori from wiping their memories, if anything?

11: How would HARUHI react? Miss “Believes in nothing paranormal?” How would Tamaki react? As the King of Sticking His Nose Into Your Business, he may attempt to make it his mission to break the curse. (Of course, he fails in the end, but they all become friends anyway.)

OR, perhaps they don’t even need to go to the same school at all. Imagine this:

1: Kyoya, in preparation for running some of his family’s hospitals, or perhaps as part of a special inspection, or a possible acquisition, or whatever else, visits a hospital owned by the Sohmas

(Listen, we know that the sohma’s HAVE to own at least one hospital. Preparations for any possible Zodiac birth would have to be EXTENSIVE. Imagine if they’re anticipating a new Dragon? All Sohma women are now compelled to have water births. Why? BECAUSE SCIENCE SAYS SO, SHUT UP, WE’RE DOCTORS. Once the new Dragon’s been born? NEVERMIND NO MORE WATERBIRTHS DONT ASK QUESTIONS. They have veterinarians on call who never really know for sure why they’re paid to just keep a special phone on them, but one day they’re called into a human hospital and forced to sign a huge stack of NDA’s before being brought to a delivery room. One day when he’s training his replacement the kid asks “hey why are you making me read about how to care for baby seahorses?” And the older doctor gets faraway flashback eyes, shakes his head and says “just keep reading, son.” I could honestly go on. I would read an entire fic just about the people working at one of these hospitals.)

Anyway, Kyoya is at the Sohma hospital when something curse related happens. You can honestly pick. Either way, Kyoya goes through an interesting spiral:

2: first, after getting himself the fuck out of there as soon as Hatori’s eyes are off of him, he has a barely-self contained nervous breakdown the minute he gets himself alone in his room because the idea of Kyoya instantly accepting anything remotely fantastical is ridiculous. His friends are worried about him but have no idea what happened because if Kyoya vocalizes it, that means it’s real!!!! And he!!! Just can’t!!! Also, he REALLY doesn’t need the twins teasing him and calling him insane or Haruhi asking if he has a fever.

3: then, after he collects himself, he begins doing his Kyoya thing and collecting information. Obviously a condition (he refuses to call it a curse) with such a easily exploitable trigger couldn’t have been kept a secret for so long. So the Sohma’s are keeping people quiet somehow. There isn’t any history of people disappearing around the sohma’s, so it’s either money, threats, or induced amnesia. So, of course, Kyoya prepares for all three. (Of course, even if they WANTED to kidnap or kill Kyoya, his connection to the Ootori family and its extensive police force would prevent that.)

4: and still, even if this curse idea is utterly ridiculous—and it is—this is the biggest piece of negotiation material Kyoya has ever acquired, and its on the SOHMAS. The one family that almost never deals with anyone. With the sohma’s being such a powerful yet reclusive family, he’s not about to let such a large chip go that easily.

5: cue a delightful mental cat-and-mouse game between Kyoya, Hatori, and eventually Akito. Akito getting involved means Shigure is definitely involved as well, if he isn’t already after Hatori.

6: Akito, being a very impatient person, wants Kyoya either hypnotized or under their thumb YESTERDAY. But he knows he can’t just bring him to the house without raising many important eyebrows. So what is he to do to get Kyoya to cooperate?

7: they could go for the heart, perhaps. Kyoya’s best friend Suoh seems stupid enough. Akito begins to charm Tamaki (who Kyoya has not informed of the curse) and establish a sort of power play in front of Kyoya—“see, he likes me, I can get him to go anywhere I want.”

8: Contrariwise, Akito decides they can’t target his best friend Suoh for the same reasons he can’t target Kyoya. Oh, but...look here. A commoner named Fujioka with no money or status, hardly any family....he’ll do fine.

7: if Tamaki gets in a room alone with Akito, the dynamic could get interesting. After Akito turns scary, Tamaki might take a bit of a beating, but then (as the bighearted and surprisingly wise person he is) he starts talking to Akito, and trying to genuinely connect with him. Whether this works or not would be up to the author.

8: If Haruhi was in a room alone with Akito, presumably brought against her will, she would probably be confused and annoyed, but eventually a little frightened and out of her depth (Akito tends to have that effect on people). But she would also piss Akito off VERY fast, with how observant yet practical and blunt she is. She would say some things that hit Akito hard, and she would probably be attacked fairly quickly. Shigure or Hatori would have to step in to protect her, and perhaps SHE learns about the curse in the process.

Honestly, it could go many different ways. But basically I wanted to demonstrate how Fruits Basket/OHSHC crossovers could be much more unique and interesting with fascinating character dynamics, whether the story is a comedy or a drama. Then, as a few honorable mentions:

Everyone compares Haruhi and Tohru’s Mom situation. But how would Haruhi react if she learned Momiji’s situation?

The twins harassing Kyo. Or, the twins harassing Haru and triggering Black Haru.

Tamaki charming Tohru and poor Tohru not knowing how to react (and Yuki and Kyo getting Very Frustrated.)

Shigure and Tamaki becoming friends because of course they would.

Shigure and RANKA becoming friends because OF COURSE THEY WOULD.

Ranka being a regular at Ayame’s store.

Etc etc etc. and that’s with just the more major characters. Hanajima and Uotani interacting with the host club would also be hilarious.

Anyway, point’s made—Fruits Basket and Host Club are fantastic crossover material, and deserve more unique content!!!

#Host Basket #Fruits Club #OHSHC #Fruits Basket #Furuba #fruits basket 2019 #ouran high school host club #crossovers #Fruits Basket x OHSHC #fanfic prompt

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createdbybadhands · 4 years

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My story

So, here goes. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing but, for some reason, this morning when I woke up I felt the need to anonymously share what my story is. I don’t tend to talk about the experience I have had or how it’s led me to what I’m currently doing, because I don’t know how people will react.

So maybe I should drop the whole I’m mentally ill bomb.

I’m mentally ill.

There it’s dropped.

This post will feature details of peri-natal mental health.

So on December 14th 2018 I found out that I was pregnant. My then fiance, now husband, was recovering from a back operation and that moment of showing him the pee stick, with joyful tears streaming down my face, he awkwardly pulled himself from the chair and slowly made his way to me so that we could share a hug in the moment.

Sadly my pregnancy was awful, the above is probably the happiest moment that would resemble a hallmark gift card we had. Before you get pregnant, you imagine it will be this amazing, I feel so special, experience. The pressure to be constantly giddy was extreme. Obviously, I knew about the not so nice parts, morning sickness, the need pee...constantly and suddenly hating what was my favourite foods and drinks.

Also, the coffee withdrawal was real.

But I didn’t know that you could be depressed and so anxious that you can’t leave the house alone.

It crept up on me, week by week the feelings got heavier, the anxiety took over. I stopped driving because I was so scared that I would crash, or how and where do I park? (the works car park was insane at this time). As March came up, my husband realised that I wasn’t myself. I couldn’t go to uni anymore (I was doing a masters in design), especially if I knew friends was working from home. I used to get the train to Bristol to go to uni, but it became this metal beast that induced heart palpitations and just the thought of boarding it. My husband encouraged me to seek help. Thankfully, my appointment was with the best GP I have ever met, he was kind, understanding and listened without judgement. He explained that hormones really can mess you up and signed me off work.

All this seemed temporary, but, blimey, it most certainly wasn’t. As time went by I got iller, I went onto anti-depressants and went to counselling, but I wasn’t making progress. My midwife, an amazing woman who went above and beyond for me, she referred me onto mental health services, which eventually meant I was taking on by the perinatal mental health team. And I was so fortunate to have this support. I was also going to classes for expectant mums who may be struggling in some way, they were also so amazing, I can’t tell you how amazing they really were. I was suddenly surrounded by people who understood that little bit more. My friends, they tried, and some were brilliant, but others stuck their foot in it, accidentally, but still... awkward. I couldn’t handle the comparisons from what I was going through to what they thought I was going through. Being told I was just stressed because I took too much on, some how blaming me for the failings of the hormones in my body. Like I chose to be ill.

As time went on I differed my final year at uni, I wasn’t able to do the work. I tried to go back to work, but couldn’t. I also had a wedding to plan (just to clarify, not a shotgun wedding we booked the date way before I found out I was pregnant) but my husband had to take on a lot of the wedding planning, bless him, he took on a lot.

So fast forwarding a bit, this time was a lot of crying, sitting and eating, it wasn’t a pretty sight. I tried to prep for baby coming, but every time we went to buy something I had a panic attack, even just looking at clothes, because it had to be perfect, I had to be perfect but didn’t know how to be.

I should quickly clarify, a lot of my thoughts weren’t about not wanting a baby, it was about me not being good enough for her and she’d be better off if I wasn’t here.

So a little more fast forwarding, despite having such amazing support, my mental health deteriorated further and at 35 weeks pregnant I voluntarily went into a Mother and Baby Unit (MBU).

For those who don’t know, MBU’s are mental health wards for mothers who are suffering from perinatal mental health illness. At the time, I was talked into going, because I didn’t want to be away from my husband. The closest MBU is still an hours drive away in a different town.

I didn’t think I would be there long, maybe a couple of weeks. I was very wrong. I found out that the average stay is 6 weeks (I was actually there for 3 months), this meant I would have my baby there, which I hated the idea of.

Again, the people who worked with me were so brilliant and so caring. They saved my life. I am fortunate to have met them all (even the one person who worked there that wound me up, and had very poor tv choice ha). It’s strange looking back at the MBU. I have a fondness for the staff, but a hatred for having to be there. It’s odd. You felt constantly watched, because you was. I had my own room but they would come look through a little window to make sure your ok, every hour, even through the night. It’s bizarre how used to it you become. You also had baby monitors in your room, in case you needed help with the baby, but it also felt weird to know I could be heard (I could switch it off when with visitors or on the phone, they weren’t that nosey).

Last night I had the weirdest feeling, I was in bed in the dark, alone and suddenly I felt like I was there again, like they were going to look through the window and I should hide that I was awake because I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Sometimes when you saw the torch shine through so they could look at you I would hide my phone or what ever I was doing, not because I was doing anything wrong but because I didn’t want to talk about why I was still awake, even with sleeping tablets.

Oh my this post has got long, fair play if you’re still reading.

So what this long rambling is saying is that, my motherhood journey so far hasn’t been your usual run of the mill. After leaving hospital I received my diagnosis, one of them was post-natal psychosis. They never explained this diagnosis to me, I didn’t know about it until this letter was sent, so I have no idea what part of me was that, presumably the belief that my daughter hated me and I shouldn’t be here. I was also diagnosed with severe reoccurring depression and anxiety, fun right?

Now this get to the creative stuff, so before all of the above happened I was studying a masters in design, my practice was a little uncertain. I very much worked with 3D printing, electronics and coding. I just hadn’t nailed the direction I wanted to go in. I also lacked some finalisation in my work. During my last year I was doing a really fun project with automation and character, making ways to interact with your surroundings (such as a light switch) by remote and a character, e.g. an astronaut, would complete it.

The idea was to turn any room into a smart room in a temporary, cost effective way.

Things have changed since then, a side to me no one knew existed was awakened. When I was in the MBU I was taught how to crochet, now everyone was surprised I took this on. I never had any inclination to do this before, but I loved it. I made a Yoda, who doesn’t love a Yoda. Everyone said I picked it up really quickly and how good I was doing. I didn’t actually enjoy the other craft activities much because I had a sense of perfection that I couldn’t escape, but because crochet was new I could let go of this perfectionism.

I have carried on with this thought process into other crafts, I went to (pre lockdown) some workshops for mums with mental health trouble and learnt some more crafts. The biggest shocker was sewing, just ask my mum I have always HATED sewing, now I love it. I have learnt how to do embroidery and making my daughter a quilt. It’s freeing. And now I feel like a better designer because I allow myself to fail, which has always been my problem and held me back. I always wanted to acheive the best straight off the bat, it’s nice to let go of that.

This blog is going to be me being brutally honest, I’ve been through a lot and want a platform to be honest. I know no one is really going to read it but hey ho. It’s also going to be my creative journey.

Also, no one talks about MBUs and mental health during pregnancy. The only thing I had seen about it was an awful episode of the good doctor where a mother took medication for her mental health to then have a sickly child, of which the blame is placed on her for taking the meds. That’s not the whole episode, there is some other interjections in there but that’s what I saw, whilst being pregnant taking medication, a tad unhelpful.

Don’t worry this post is coming to an end, mainly as my baby has woken from her nap, so for today toodles.

#pregnancy #mental health #perinatal mental health #postnatal depression #postnatal physchosis #creative #mystory #crochet #design #designer #hospital #motherandbabyunit #baby #mum #confused mum

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lukeskywaker4ever · 4 years

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King Pedro V 2nd Voyage (May 20th to August 14th, 1855): France

The 1854 trip was not, in fact, the last that King D. Pedro V made through the old European continent. In the following year he made a new tour and, in the excitement of what would follow, Pedro described, in his new diary, the wonders of traveling for those who want to educate themselves: “On a trip you receive an instruction that is very different from that of books, an introduction that books do not give, that instruction that you receive just because you throw your head out of the window. A trip, and a trip mainly in civilized Europe, that of the revolutions that have changed the face of our society, that shows us the remains of great nations, the effects of political errors, is a great relief to the thirst for instruction, a momentary relief and for that reason it is painful for those who see it before them only a bad time.” This time, and to fill the gap from the previous trip, France was the starting point for a new tour. It would be, again, the ship Mindelo

carrying King D. Pedro, who was accompanied, as in the previous year, by his brother Luís.

On May 25th, at noon, the ship reached the river Gironde, which bathes the city of Bordeaux. However, at that hour, the river was no longer navigable, so Mindelo had to land in Pauillac, a few kilometers from Bordeaux. Predicting that this could happen, Emperor Napoleon III

had already made available a steam, the size of which allowed him to sail to the French city. In Bordeaux, the floor of Place de Quinconces, next to the river, “was exquisitely carpeted, and had a rich pavilion decorated with the arms of Casa de Bragança and those of the Emperor, superimposed in the colors and flags of Portugal and France. The garrison troops formed in the Quinconces square

made wings in the passage of the royal procession.” When the French steam, which brought D. Pedro and D. Luís, docked: “A royal salvo announced the landing of the Augustos Viajantes; the drums played the generala; the songs played the Portuguese anthem, and the cheers of the Emperor and the King live from all sides. The population of Bordeaux was crowded on the quay, the prospect was magnificent and pompous, and the weather that had become excellent contributed to the brilliance of the ceremony.”

A sumptuous carriage had been placed at the disposal of the King of Portugal, taking him to the Hotel de Ville,

where he was accommodated. In that same space, a “banquet of 35 place settings” was waiting for him, that is, for 35 diners. In the short stay of just one day, Pedro had the possibility, right after the banquet, of watching a play in the theater where “the rich of Bordeaux are seen strutting, eager for pleasure and possessing the means to satisfy them.” However, he did not stay to meet them. The destination was Paris and he headed there. The next day he left Bordeaux to take the train in Orléans that would take him to the main Gallic city. On the way, after being delighted with the architecture of the station, he had time to admire the bridge over the Garonne,

“one of Napoleon's great public works.” As he crossed France, he meditated on the advantages and disadvantages of large and small farms: “While I did not read the story impartially, I believed in the goodness of the property division, today I am more reserved and more illustrated in my opinion .” In Paris, he had the opportunity to talk about the matter, once again concluding that the big property was the best: “Everyone lamented, like me, the extreme division of property and some [individuals] I have heard triumphantly refute the argument of the advantage of interested the small people in the territorial property and consequently in the order. I said it above that the extreme division of property is a socialism and a communism that has the only advantage, and this is very considerable because of its results, but intrinsically insignificant, of not being nailed to the side of a platform that is less than the saddle of a cavalryman. It is a communism with all its evils, except that of Mr. Proudhon's communism, who unfortunately is not incarcerated in Charenton with Fourier and all this school of men of doctrines who, during 20 years of practice, have shown their complete nullity and uselessness.” D. Pedro wished to see in Portugal large farms managed by responsible owners.

As for the railway, which he used between Orléans and Paris, he criticized the way the engineers had planned it: “It is what I have against men of doctrine, it is that imaginary life that prevents them from looking at reality . So, this railroad that crosses a very rich country out of respect for the geometric principle that the straight line is the briefest space from one point to another, passes away from important cities, it seems that to follow its route to the letter. railway title from Paris to Bordeaux.” Then he commented: “The bureaucratic administration of countries that enjoy the so-called benefits of centralization, centralizes the country's geography; geography is centralized, he thinks it has centralized the country's interests.”

Arrived in Paris, only the Portuguese were allowed to enter the station, in order to kiss the hand of their sovereign. Escorted by a cavalry honor guard, the chariot carrying D. Pedro and D. Luís, went to the Tuileries palace.

There they were expected by Napoleon III and his court and, after due cordiality and introductions, Napoleon personally led his guests to the rooms prepared for them in the Marsan pavilion,

in that same palace. The room for D. Pedro was carefully prepared, ending, in fact, a surprise that touched young Portuguese. Napoleon III “ordered the portrait of His Augusta Mother Mrs. Dona Maria II

from his nostalgic memory to be placed in El-Rei's room, and the August Guests were manifestly touched by such exquisite delicacy, shaking hands with the Emperor in a sense and silent recognition .” After dinner, where Pedro and Luís were able to exhibit the Legion of Honor

that had been conceived for them the previous year, the fatigue of the trip made them retire to their rooms by ten o'clock at night.

In the Tuileries, on the following day, May 27th, he attended a Mass, in the company of the French Emperor, who celebrated that Pentecost Sunday, having appreciated the fact that he attended Mass in uniform, which, in his opinion, contrasted with the procedure by Luís Filipe de Orléans,

who “did not hear mass, so as not to have natural science teachers, doctors and economists against him.” Then Pedro was finally able to see Paris and, as such, monuments and parks received his presence. He looked discreetly at Chantilly's horse racing

and, in horror, at a vaudeville theater. He then visited the Grenelle well,

the slaughterhouse and an establishment for the education of the blind. In general, comments about the visit are more banal than those made during your first trip. At one point, he compared London and Paris, saying that the former was a serious city, while the latter would be frivolous. He commented, in the following way, on the way the two peoples looked at their respective governments: “While the revolution of 1640 lives in the memory of all English and while the spirit of self government animates each member of that monarchical republic, where the sovereign is everything and nothing, the French people leave the care to think of the events to a few, that of governing those who carry out their interests.” The fact that Dom Pedro admired England did not prevent him from feeling any resentment against the country. The Universal Exhibition of Paris,

which he visited, made a good impression on the spirit of the monarch, who found the European continent's industry well represented. Even if promoted by the government, the Exhibition was, in his opinion, a worthy response to the British challenge: “It is the Continent to show that the germs it presented in London have developed and that it has learned to take advantage of the great lesson.” After the official visit, he returned there, repeatedly, with his brother, but incognito, certainly with the desire to escape the hustle and bustle that his presence created, serenely seeking to admire the exhibition without interruption or agitation. The Museum of Natural History

had a dubious effect, it did not criticize it directly, on the contrary, but it reflected the modesty of the collections: “In general, the collections suffer from a certain modesty, very fatal, which is also prevalent in our land , which is their lack of resources and their bad administration because, as everyone knows, the wise are not made to settle accounts. ” The big problem, according to him, was the centralizing tendency that drowned out all the forces that existed in societies: “and politician that we voted for after the people blindly left the centralizing power to think for them…”

The avalanche of visits took him to bed, this time with an attack of headaches, which the doctor treated with mustard synapisms in the bellies of his legs. The disease had a compensation, received the visit of Napoleon III and the Count of Morny,

then President of Parliament. Two days later he was recovered. During the visit to the Cluny Museum,

he reflected on the nature of constitutional government, exhibiting the mixture of idealism and pessimism that would characterize it: “If there was not so much suspicion against the real power, if the ministers did not love the portfolios so much, there were more who wanted to tell the truth to kings and their ministers, and the people understood their interests better, in short, if man were as he should be and not as he is, the best form of government was found; but that form will not see it for our generation or the next, if it is possible that man can never see it. ” D. Pedro would never understand the reasons that led men to walk “bad ways”. For him, mistakes were anachronisms. Pedro and Luís also visited the Louvre Museum,

the Palace of Versailles,

the Navy and the Artillery.

Of everything he saw in Paris, and it was not little, he especially liked the parades, which shows the fascination that everything that was military has always exercised over D. Pedro. The night of the 4th of June was spent in Campo de Marte,

in a “highly poetic” environment, with 30,000 bayonets glowing, alongside 48 cannons, in a march that had as its backdrop “the cheerful and bellicose chirping of 6000 horses ”. He was excited: "Only those who have no soul, do not feel anything, do not feel a pleasant shiver, seeing what is most admirable in the world, how man managed to subject hundreds of thousands of men to one will." The next day, he had to go for a walk in the streets, something he looked at in a pedagogical way, that is, as something planned with the objective of “studying the physiognomy of the daily life of this great city, so full of grandeur and defects and which focuses on itself in human science and serves as a starting point for spreading over the earth.” In addition to shopping, he visited the Sèvres porcelain establishment, which motivated him to reflect: “I confess that sometimes, when I feel the lack of means that the king of Portugal has to satisfy the most innocent passions, it is precisely when I feel possessed by the desire to own what I see, but I must console myself with the idea that what is beautiful in art belongs to everyone, is, for many, the source of indefinable enjoyments that the owner often does not feel.”

Then he took off from the Vincennes polygon,

the Casa da Moeda,

the cavalry school in Saumur,

the National Archives,

the School of Bridges and Sidewalks, an Exhibition of Agricultural Machines and the Imperial Library,

where he discovered some Portuguese works , such as, for example, the Chronicle of Guinea. On the 13th of June, after a dinner with the general staff of the armed forces, he spoke, for once, of D. Luís. He did it in a negative way: “I slept all the way and was already in bed when the brother returned from the Grand Opera House,

where he had gone to see the first performance of Verdi's Sicilian Vespers. I did not envy him the pleasure of listening to such good music; I had seen Saumur's school while he was having fun.”

On the 21st of June, preparing to leave Paris, the guests were again surprised. At seven o'clock in the morning they received the presence of the Emperor and the Empress,

who made a point of saying goodbye to the travelers once again. The gesture touched the Portuguese and the farewell was made of hugs and commotion. Napoleon did everything to ensure that nothing failed and made available, again, a French steam that waited for D. Pedro and the rest of the party in Marseille. Until then, they passed through Lyon, where they watched a search of the troops and a simulacrum of war, visited establishments and bought a souvenir, but from England. It was a silk portrait of Queen Victoria and her husband. On the 23rd of June the imperial train left for Marseille, but with a previous stop by Avignon, where the former palace of the popes

was visited and admired. At the next exit, the retinue boarded the steam provided by Napoleon. They were going to Italy.

#king pedro v of portugal #xix century #grand tour #portugal #france #king luis i of portugal #emperor napoleon iii

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