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mochegato · 3 years

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Covert Parenting

Covert Dating Covert Romance Covert Wedding Covert Marriage Covert Pregnancy Covert Matchmaking

“Oh shit, we lost Rosie!” Jason looked around frantically, lifting up cushions and pillows and craning his neck behind the couch. “Dev, where is your sister?”

“We didn’t lose Rosie.” Marinette answered calmly, putting the last pins in her hair as she walked out of the bathroom. “She’s playing with dinosaurs in the tub. And don’t curse in front of the kids.”

Jason fell into the arm chair and breathed a sigh of relief. He suddenly lurched up, looking around frantically again. “Where did Dev go?”

“He’s hiding under the couch,” Jaime reported, not looking up from his Switch game.

“Jay!” Dev yelled at him, crawling out from under the couch. “You weren’t supposed to tell him.” He stomped back to his room. Jaime rolled his eyes and kept playing his game.

“Dev,” Jason called after him. “It’s okay, Dev.” They heard a door slam. Jason sighed and gave Jaime a disappointed look. “You know he hates when you do that.”

Jaime huffed. “You asked. I answered. I don’t know why I’m getting in trouble here.”

“Shit! Where kitty go?” Catherine waddled into the living room.

Marinette froze. Jason froze. Jaime looked up from his game with huge eyes before he curled over on himself cackling. “Oh, you’re so dead, Jase.”

Jason mock glared at him before turning to Marinette with wide innocent eyes. “That wasn’t me. I didn’t teach her that!” he defended himself pointing to Catherine.

There was nothing mock about the glare Marinette shot at Jason. She swooped over to pick up Catherine. “Catherine, Sweetie, where did you learn that word?”

Catherine perked up, “Mama!”

Marinette looked at Catherine confused for a few moments, shooting another glare at Jason’s raucous laughter. “Mama taught you what word, Sweetie?” she asked gently.

“Kitty! Mama say kitty lots.” Catherine lifted up her little hands to squish Marinette’s face. Suddenly her eyes got huge and worried. “Kitty! Where Kitty?”

“Okay, let’s look for Kitty together. But, Catherine, who taught you the other word?”

Catherine looked at her mom questioningly. “Other?”

“Yes,” Marinette started to explain. She opened her mouth to ask about ‘shit’, but quickly closed it. She didn’t want to say the word again and have Catherine keep saying it. Instead she gave Jason a dirty look and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You did this and you’re going to pay for it.”

Jason shot her a devilish smirk. “Really? Is that a promise? We getting a baby sitter tonight?”

“Eww. Guys we’re right here,” Jaime groaned, throwing his head back in disgust.

“Yeah, and how do you think Catherine got ‘right here’?” Jason shot back. “And while we’re at it, let’s talk about why your first instinct was to go dirty?” He raised an eyebrow at the young teenager.

“I’m a teenager, not one of them.” He vaguely motioned toward his adopted siblings. “I’ve heard of sex.”

“Oh good. That should make the talk Jason was going to have with you go much easier.” Marinette threw in from her crouched position peering under the couch. Jason and Jaime both paled rapidly. She looked at their expressions and started laughing. “Americans! Such a puritanical approach to sex.” She stopped to consider what she said. “Kind of surprising coming from you, Jase.” She smirked at him and grabbed his ass as she passed by him.

Jason blushed deeply. He was opening and closing his mouth quickly, trying to think of a response but all his words had disappeared. Jaime groaned again and got up. “That’s it! I’m leaving. I can’t believe you people.”

“Jaime, can you help look before you leave?” Marinette asked distractedly.

“Whatever,” he answered annoyed.

Jason watched him as he left and sighed again. Nobody told him parenting was 90% sighing, though he supposed he probably should have figured that out from observing Bruce. He turned his attention to the task at hand and started pulling apart cushions again. If Catherine didn’t have her Kitty, nobody would have any peace and they definitely were going to have trouble getting ready on time, which was going to put everyone in a bad mood. “When’s the last time we saw it?”

Marinette sighed, scrunching her face in concentration trying to run through their schedule yesterday. “The last I remember was at the fittings with the boys.”

Jason nodded. “Okay, so maybe it’s at the studio?”

“Maybe… I don’t think so but… maybe at the manor?” She worried her lower lip trying to put the pieces together. “Probably not considered acceptable to use Lucky Charm, huh?” She gave him a pleading look.

Jason chuckled but shook his head. “Definitely seems like something Tikki would frown upon.” He shot a look over to the bookshelf and caught Tikki’s exasperated look. “Literally,” he chuckled.

“Did we leave it in the car?” she asked desperately.

Jason reached over and put his hands on Marinette’s shoulders to ground her. “Mari, we will find it. It might just take a little bit of teamwork. Why don’t we have Stephanie swing by the Studio on her way to the manor? And we’ll have someone check the manor. And I’ll look in the car in a minute after we look around here a bit more. Okay?”

Marinette looked in his eyes and took a deep breath. After a few seconds she calmed down and nodded at him. “Right. Okay. Right. Teamwork. It has to be somewhere.” He smiled and kissed her forehead. “We just need to find it well before the ceremony because otherwise she won’t take a nap and there’s no way we’ll get her in her dress or walk down the aisle or smile for pictures, let alone be quiet through the ceremony. And then Adrien and Duke are going to be so upset we ruined their special day and never speak to us again.”

Jason looked at her skeptically. “How much of that do you think will actually happen.”

Marinette quirked her head to the side and stared at the ceiling as she thought it through. “Everything up to Adrien and Duke being upset. Maybe just frustrated.”

Jason nodded with a smile. Marinette still spiraled occasionally, but she had gotten much better at pulling herself out of it over the past few years. Preparations for the wedding had taken its toll on her emotions though. The past few weeks as the wedding approached, she’d been significantly more emotional than usual, but not nearly as bad as the grooms. Jason shuddered thinking about the spiral Duke had gone into when the flowers Adrien wanted weren’t going to be available or the panic Adrien had felt when the customized ring he ordered got held up.

“She won’t disrupt the service,” he assured her. “I promise you. We won’t let her.” Marinette gave him a skeptical look. “I’m just saying chloroform is a thing,” Jason answered with a smirk. “And there’s plenty in the manor.”

Marinette rolled her eyes but laughed in spite of herself until she felt a hug on her leg. “Find Kitty?” Catherine asked hopefully.

Marinette sighed and patted Catherine’s back. “Hey Jaime and Dev, can you guys look for Kitty in your rooms, please?” She called back.

“It isn’t in my room,” Dev answered, finally coming back to the living room.

“I don’t know where the stupid cat is,” Jaime yelled back. Marinette and Jason looked back toward his room with matching surprised faces.

Catherine’s face scrunched up and her mouth opened wide as she started crying loudly. She reached up for Marinette to pick her up. Marinette frowned sympathetically at her and picked her up, patting her back and rocking her. “Jay said Kitty stupid,” she repeated over and over again between sobs.

“I know. I’m sorry, baby. Jay is upset right now. He doesn’t mean it,” Marinette cooed at her.

“Jay said Kitty stupid,” Catherine repeated again like she hadn’t heard Marinette at all.

“Why is Kit Cat crying?” Rosie asked wandering over from the bathroom.

Marinette gave Jason a pointed look and gestured with her head toward Jaime’s room. Jason sighed and nodded. He kissed Catherine on the head, picked Rosie up with another kiss on the head, and placed her on the couch next to where Marinette and Catherine had just sat, before he made his way to Jaime’s room. Marinette patted the sofa on the other side of her for Dev. Dev rolled his eyes but cuddled up to Catherine.

“Catherine feels sad because someone used not nice words about Kitty,” Marinette explained to Rosie.

Rosie nodded at the explanation. She leaned in close to Catherine and added herself to the hug. “I like Kitty, Kit Cat.”

Catherine sniffled but looked over to Rosie with a small smile. “Thank you, Rosie. That was really nice to try to help your sister,” Marinette whispered to her.

<><><><><>

“You want to talk about what just happened?” Jason asked, leaning cross armed against Jaime and Catherine’s bedroom door frame.

“Your daughter lost her stupid stuffed animal and now we’re all stopping what we were doing to find it.” Jaime grunted without looking up.

“Is that what you think happened?” Jason asked delicately.

“That’s what I know happened,” he sneered.

“Okay, first your words really hurt your brother and your sister. Dev trusts you when he doesn’t trust almost anyone. And Catherine looks up to you like a hero. You’re her big brother. You mean the world to her and you called her favorite thing stupid.” Jaime kept looking down, refusing to make eye contact with Jason. “Second, we didn’t make you stop doing what you were doing. We asked you to help your sister feel better. Third, we didn’t choose her happiness over yours. Your happiness is just as important as hers.”

Jaime looked up at Jason shocked. “I didn’t… I didn’t say you did.”

“No,” Jason conceded, “but you thought it and I needed you to know. You are just as important to us. I know it seems like the littler kids get more attention, and they probably do because they need more watching. They can’t do as much for themselves as you can. But, that doesn’t mean we value them more than you.”

“Yeah,” Jaime scoffed looking down again. “You value me more than your blood daughter.”

“You need to spend less time with Damian.” Jason shook his head. “You think Bruce loves Dick or Tim less than Damian?”

Jaime thought about it and finally decided he didn’t. He looked up at Jason, still keeping his head down. “Yeah, that’s right.” Jason nodded at him. “Can I come in?”

Jaime shrugged but moved to make room for him on the bed. Jason plopped on the bed next to him. “Adopted isn’t a synonym for lesser. We love you. We aren’t going anywhere and neither are you. You’re ours. We chose you. We wanted you because of who you are; your head and your heart. That won’t change. You’ll change. Probably a lot. But our love won’t. Even when you go through your asshole period, which, if you’re like me is going to last years.”

“So how long has your phase been going on for now?” Jaime asked with a smirk.

“Oi! Watch it smartass,” Jason laughed pulling him into a hug. “But we’re still going to love you, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay. Whatever,” Jaime answered in poorly disguised apathy and hugged him back.

<><><><><>

“Please God tell me you found Kitty,” Jason begged Alfred in a desperate whisper.

Alfred shook his head sadly. “Sorry Master Jason, we were not able to find it.”

Jason groaned silently. Catherine had been an emotional mess all day because of that damn stuffed animal. No other stuffed animal would do. It had to be that stuffed cat. Not just any stuffed cat. That damned cat.

Stephanie bounded up behind him and jumped on his back holding up Kitty in front of him. “Who’s your favorite sister ever?”

“You found it!” he exclaimed, the relief evident on his face. He grabbed the stuffed animal like it was an immortality elixir.

“No. But I did find a new one. They call it a ‘spare’ apparently, according to the cashier anyway. Always have a spare for their favorite stuffed animal or blanket, just in case.” She shrugged at him.

Jason stared at her incredulously. “God I hope she doesn’t notice.” He started speed walking to Marinette and the kids. He turned as he walked out of the room. “You! You’re the favorite currently.” She winked and shot finger guns at him. Favorite was hard to obtain with Adrien and Dick around.

“Look what Aunt Stephanie found!” He grinned victoriously as he joined his family. He showed the stuffed animal to Catherine who grabbed it quickly and hugged it tight. “Kitty!”

Marinette eyed the stuffed animal and gave Jason a questioning look. He shrugged and held a finger up to his lips.

“Ah, you’ve arrived.” Damian walked down the stairs seemingly to pass through unaware of their presence, but Marinette could see the glint in his eyes when he saw the kids.

“Uncle Damian!” Dev, Rosie, and Catherine called out excitedly. Dev and Rosie ran to give him a hug, which he permitted with a roll of his eyes but a smile on his face.

“Good afternoon, Todd spawns.” He patted them on their heads. “I found this last night and I thought Catherine might like to have it back.” He held up Kitty for her.

“Damian, you found it!” Marinette exclaimed excitedly. “Thank you so much! Catherine what do you say?”

“Thank you,” Catherine said dutifully, still staring at the stuffed animals in her hand. “Two Kittys, Mama!”

Marinette smiled at her. “Yep, two Kittys now. Isn’t that great?”

Catherine scrunched her face staring at the new stuffed animal. She held it out away from her. “Not Kitty.”

Damian smirked at her. “That’s right. It’s a usurper Kitty,” he mock sneered at the stuffed animal.

“’Super Kitty,” Catherine tried to imitate his sneer and dropped the usurper Kitty.

Damian laughed loudly and reached out to ruffle her hair. His wrist was caught by Marinette before he could make contact, “You mess up her hair before the wedding and you’ll lose the ability to use that arm for a week,” she hissed at him. Damian rolled his eyes but retracted his hand.

“Hey Catherine?” Jaime came up beside her. Catherine hid her face in Marinette’s chest. She hadn’t spoken to Jaime since the earlier incident. “Can I keep Super Kitty?” he asked picking up the duplicate Kitty and hugging it to his chest. “I would really like to have matching Kittys.”

Catherine perked up immediately and started bouncing in Marinette’s arms. “Matchy matchy! Yay. Look Mama. Jay Kitty and Kitty Cat Kitty.”

Marinette looked over to Jaime with a huge smile and back to Catherine. “Yes you do. That is so cool!”

“If you are ready, I can show you where we are supposed go until the wedding,” Damian offered.

“We’ll be right there if you can take the kids, please,” Marinette asked.

“Of course,” Damian nodded to them and reached out to take Catherine’s hand.

Catherine wiggled out of Marinette’s hold and onto the floor to meet him. Jaime bumped affectionately into Dev’s shoulder and took Rosie’s hand as they started following Damian.

“Oh, Jaime?” Marinette called after him. He turned back to her with a curious gaze. She smiled at him and walked over to hug him. “I’m proud of you for everything you do and try to do.” She gave him a kiss on the head.

He looked up at her with watery eyes. “Yeah, okay,” he said shakily.

“Come on Jay,” Rosie urged him, pulling him to follow Damian like the rest of the kids were. They were trailing after him like ducklings, making Marinette smile at the image. Jason came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her close. “Okay we got rid of them, let’s find a bedroom,” he whispered in her ear.

She giggled and snuggled further into his embrace. “Did you ask him to do that when you talked to him?”

“Nope,” Jason denied. “I talked about how much the other kids look up to him and how much we love him.” He smirked. “Ninja parenting. You think I’m working on one issue with one kid, but really I’m working on all the issues with all of them. Wahahaha. And you never even saw me coming.”

Marinette almost started crying from laughing so hard. When her laughter died down, she turned in his arms and cupped his face stroking his cheek. She pulled him down to give him a slow, lingering kiss. She pulled away slightly, taking a beat before opening her eyes to look at him lovingly through her lashes. “You’re so amazing.”

He preened at her praise and smiled softly at her. He pulled her closer to kiss her again. “Just trying to live up to you. I love you so much.”

“Kit Cat come back!” They heard Rosie yell from down the hallway.

Marinette laughed but Jason gave an exasperated sigh. “I can’t believe that nickname stuck. We should have nipped that in the bud immediately.”

She hummed noncommittally. “You could have tried, but all their nicknames have stuck; Rosebud, Devolution, MJB. Maybe you’ll have better luck with this one, but now that they’re going to be a team on it, it’s going to be even harder to stop.”

“Oh yea of little faith.” He grinned at her until he processed her words and his smile dropped. “This one?” He looked down at her belly and back up to her eyes. She grinned brightly at him and nodded. His eyes lit up and he gently laid his hand on her belly, a gentle, reverent smile formed on his lips. “We’re going to have another baby. The kids are going to be so excited.”

“Until this little one starts stealing toys,” she giggled before sighing. “And there are fights over toys and attention and space and no sleep and God, the morning sickness…”

“Yeah,” he gently pulled her into his chest and rested his head on hers. “But your boobs are going to get so big.”

She pulled back to see his mischievous smile and slapped him playfully with a roll of her eyes. “We’ll figure it out together,” he whispered confidently touching his forehead to hers and kissed her gentle and loving.

“As a family,” she nodded in agreement. “We can take on anything.”

Notes:

Again… mostly just an excuse to write daddy Jason. So I’m thinking Jaime 13, Dev 8, Rosie 5, and Catherine 2. Dev and Rosie are blood siblings and were adopted together. And Jaime and Catherine share a room because Dev and Rosie felt safer sharing a room when they were first adopted. MJB stands for Mini Jay Bird.

#maribat #jasonette #Covert Jasonette #Daddy Jason

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a65232-joshywoshy · 4 years

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Colorado Crybaby

Warning: The following chapter depicts scenes of violence and may not be suitable for all audiences. Reader discretion is advised.

Chapter 6

The sun shined brightly through the bedroom window. Two women were asleep in a bed.

“Good morning, Rachael.”

Rachael jumped. She forgot that there was a person in her house. Who is in my house?! Oh no. I’m about to be raped or murdered.

Penny spoke more softly. “Good morning.”

Rachael was awake enough to catch up to what was happening and she remembered all the details again. That voice was Penny. Penny had spent the night. Rachael had only 1 bed in this house right now. So Penny had woken up next to her. No danger. It’s just Penny. Penny is safe. Penny is in my bed. PENNY IS IN MY BED. The thought was partly terrifying and partly exciting. Her co-worker of several years and best friend had slept in the same bed as her. How do normal people act with a hot girl in their bed? A hot girl. Rachael’s mind repeated the phrase again. Why did she say that? Penny had said she was bisexual. She remembered being stunned by seeing Penny in her pajamas last night. Penny was hot. Rachael liked how Penny looked.

“You’re right, Penny.” Rachael’s voice was a little deeper, having just woken up. “I am bi.”

Rachael turned over to look at her friend’s face.

“And I admit now. You, Penny, a girl, are hot to me.”

“I KNEW it!” Penny smiled and let out a soft squeal. “We could date each other, you know. That’d be fun.”

Rachael was blushing again. “No. Penny! I’m only just now finding this out about myself. I mean… it would be, I guess, pretty fun to date you…”

“Exactly.” Penny kissed Rachael gently on the forehead.

“Palpitations. PALPITATIONS!” Rachael blushed yet again. “We’re… we’re co-workers, though. You’re kind of my boss.”

“No. Mr. Pendleton is your boss. I mean, I kind of have some influence over you, but… I don’t know. It’s not like everybody has to know.”

Penny got out of bed.

“We should get dressed and start the day.” Penny grabbed the bottom of her pajama shirt and slowly started to pull it up. “Should I change... right... here?”

“Oh my god!” Rachael threw her head under the covers and Penny laughed.

“You are the most adorable thing. I’m not going to change in front of you... Yet. I would melt your brain for the rest of the day if I did that. Wouldn’t I?”

“Why are you torturing me with your beautiful body?!?!” Rachael was still hidden under the covers.

“Because I know I can now. And it’s fun. I’ll wear my work clothes from yesterday. I don’t think I can fit in your clothes after all. I have boobs. You have less boobs.”

“Thank you. I only have 2 casual outfits anyway. They’re a little small on me, so you would just…” Rachael daydreamed about what Penny would look like in her white tanktop and denim shorts. “Yeah.”

From the bathroom, Penny continued the conversation.

“My voluptuous figure would pour out of it like champagne? Which is a polite way to say I’m fatter than you.”

Rachael quickly corrected her. “You’re not fat. No. I didn’t mean…”

“I’m kidding. I don’t think I’m fat. I like how I look. There.”

Penny emerged from the bathroom back in her work clothes.

“We’re definitely going to my house so I can change into more comfortable clothes, and for your sake, less attractive clothes.” Penny smiled.

“That’d be nice. I’d really like to stop thinking about you that way.”

“I don’t mind it. You’re pretty, too, you know. You do need to get dressed, though, sleepyhead. And don’t strip in front of me. I’m not ready to have sex with you.”

Rachael blushed again. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You told me to change and my brain was like ‘Must obey. Must change.’ You… You can do things to my brain that no one else has ever done before.”

Rachael picked up her tanktop and shorts to go change.

“I kind of had a feeling I was able to do that. Even when we first met, you seemed to have this kind of… awe towards me. That’s why I want to see that you’re well taken care of. You’re too precious to get hurt.”

“Aww.” Rachael was getting dressed in the bathroom now. “Thank you for caring so much about me.”

“Caring for you has this weird… automatic instinct for me, too. When you got outed in Anaheim I didn’t hesitate. I just ripped you out of there as fast as possible. I had to protect my girl.”

“That’s one of the many reasons I love having you as a friend, Penny. You’re just amazing like that.”

Rachael opened the bathroom door. Penny looked over her.

“I love it. You look so ‘White girl.’” Penny smiled. “But seriously, though, you are super cute. I can’t remember the last time I saw you in street clothes. We both work too much.”

“Why can’t I make you melt like you made me melt? That’s not fair.” Rachael started cleaning out her purse so it only contained the essentials for the day.

“I’m immune to your powers of hotness. Mwa ha ha. We’ll take my car for our shopping trip today.”

“Sounds good. I don’t like driving much.”

The two went downstairs to Penny’s car. Rachael locked the front door behind her. Penny’s apartment was in downtown Denver. It was a small apartment near Sloan’s Lake. It was a 25 minute drive from Rachael’s house to Penny’s apartment. They talked for the whole drive. Since they were finally having a conversation outside of the workplace again, they had a whole list of things to talk about. Penny questioned Rachael about being bi, but Rachael’s answers were often just ‘I don’t know.’ Rachael wanted to talk about that topic more with her friend, but she was still trying to process it all internally and needed lighter topics while her mind digested her new reality.

When they walked into her apartment a few minutes later, Rachael thought Penny’s apartment was wonderful. It was recently remodeled and looked luxurious on the inside. Penny had just the right amount of decoration. It was all tasteful, elegant and modern. Some of the art on the walls was video game themed, but still fit the styling of the other modern decorations.

“I didn’t know you played video games.” Rachael said, as they toured the apartment.

“Occasionally. I like the art more than actually playing.”

“I’m disappointed in the amount of mess, though. You said your home life was a mess. This is a fantastic mess, Penny.”

Penny pointed at her head. “This home. My personal life. My life choices at home. I didn’t mean my house was a mess.”

Rachael looked in her bathroom and noticed a dildo on the floor.

“See? Dammit.” Penny quickly shoved the dildo in a drawer, embarrassed.

Rachael teased her now. “Oh no. A dildo. Penny has NEEDS!”

They both laughed.

“Look, kid. I don’t need your sass.” Penny joked.

They ended the tour in Penny’s bedroom. There was another dildo on the bed.

“Holy cow. You are the horniest woman I know! Do you have a dildo in every room?”

Now Penny blushed as she stashed another dildo in a drawer. “I have a high libido, okay? Would you get out of here so I can change, you brat?”

Rachael laughed. “Yes ma’am.”

Penny changed while Rachael wandered the apartment, taking in all the sights, sounds, and smells of the private life of Penny De LaCruz. At first glance, the apartment seemed normal enough. A bookshelf in the living room held several books that focused on the artwork of video games. The walls were decorated nicely with stylized video game art. Penny had turned on music in her room. Rachael didn’t recognize the artist, but she heard a strong female vocalist singing. The air carried a hint of coconut and vanilla from wax warmers in other rooms. The apartment was kept clean, an easy task, since Penny was only here to sleep most of the time.

“There. How do I look?”

Penny came into the living room wearing denim jeans and a loose fitting short sleeved shirt. The jeans had a tear mid-thigh, obviously designed that way. On her feet were pink and grey sneakers with ankle socks.

“Beautiful. And I don’t go nuts when I look at you, now! A+. 5 stars.”

Penny laughed. “Let’s go shopping, then.”

They left the apartment and drove to a nearby home decor store to begin their shopping trip. This store would most likely have the lamp, nightstands and mirror they wanted. They walked inside and quickly found the lamp aisle.

“Here you go.” Penny said sarcastically. She pointed to an antique lamp that was brand new, yet looked ancient. “This is adult enough for you, right?”

“Please don’t put that in my house. Ew. I can’t believe people buy some of this stuff.” Rachael’s attention was drawn further down the aisle where a large floor lamp with multiple arms branched out. The small shades over each bulb were brightly colored with bright silver arms going back to its base.

“That’s pretty.”

“Penny! I want it! I know it’s not a nightstand lamp, but I want it! I am so getting this.”

Rachael loaded the large box into their cart, a big smile on her face.

They continued to walk around and shop, getting twice as many things as they came for. They were nearly done shopping at this store when a man walked up behind Rachael.

“Hey. How are you?” The man said.

“Good. Thanks. You?” Rachael turned and looked over the man, checking to see if she was supposed to recognize him, but she didn’t.

“I’m good. I just wanted to let you know there’s a huge sale happening behind this building.”

He didn’t give anyone time to respond.

“Let’s head back there and check it out. They have this same lamp for 90% off. We have to hurry, though, or they’ll sell it.”

Penny tried to cut in. “It’s behind…” He cut her off.

“Yeah, it’s behind the store. We have to go right now. We can’t miss this deal. They probably have everything in your cart back there. Let’s just go.”

He reached out and grabbed Rachael’s arm.

Faster than Rachael could blink, Penny was behind him and had a switchblade knife to his throat.

“Let her go. Now.” Penny hissed.

“Fuck, man.” He dropped her arm. “It’s just a sale, shit. Fuckin’ ungrateful bitches.”

Penny pointed the knife at him as he backed away.

“Fuckin’ crazy ungrateful bitches.”

“Fuck off, asshole!” Penny roared. “Let’s go.”

Penny put one hand on Rachael’s back and the other hand on the cart. Before Rachael had a second to think, they were at the checkout.

“There’s a man in this store who grabbed my friend. He said there’s a sale happening behind the store? I think he wanted to take her.” Penny explained what happened to the slightly terrified cashier. Rachael began to shake a little.

“I’ll get security.” The clerk talked quietly. She picked up the phone and made a page over the intercom. “Cleanup on aisle 42.”

The store was fairly large, but there was no aisle 42. Within seconds, a security officer was by their side.

“Are you ladies alright?” The officer quickly looked at the girls, then around at their surroundings.

“Yes, sir.” Penny said. “Some crazy white guy said there’s a sale happening behind the store and tried to take my friend. He’s about my height, crazy hair, needed to shave.”

The security officer quickly got their information from them and escorted them out to their car. He assured them they would check the security cameras and someone would be in touch to ‘resolve the issue’. Penny knew there wasn’t much they could do, but they loaded the stuff and they were safe in Penny’s car again.

Rachael sobbed.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I know that was scary for you. I’m kinda terrified myself. Are you okay?”

“I’m *sniffle* I’m okay. *sob* You! You you you! With the knife and the guy!” Rachael continued sobbing again.

“Me?”

“My girlfriend is my bodyguard!” Rachael threw her arms around Penny, squeezing her tight.

“Bodyguard? Girlfriend? I mean…”

“You were SO BRAVE! You told the mean man to go away and he DID! And you OWNED HIM! You were like WOOSH! And that made him leave! You’re my big strong protector!!!” Rachael sobbed some more.

“Oh, kiddo.” Penny stroked Rachael’s hair gently. “It’s okay now. We’re okay.”

They hugged for a few more minutes. Penny managed to pry Rachael off and buckled her up. She drove to a nearby restaurant for lunch and ice cream. They used the drive through and ate in the car.

“Okay.” Rachael licked her ice cream cone, then let out a shaky breath. She was still reeling from what had happened. “So that happened.”

“I hate men.” Penny stared into the distance. Her face seemed to suggest she was imagining strangling many different men.

“Me too.”

“Are you going to be okay shopping, or do you just want to go home? And what about clubbing tonight?”

“I don’t want to spoil your fun.” Rachael looked disappointed.

“Sweetheart, some stranger just tried to grab you and do who knows what. If you want to go home, I have no problem taking you home. We do need to make at least 2 more stops, though. But I want to pack a bag to spend one more night at your house and then get something from one more store.”

“I still want to go to that club tonight. But I don’t think I want to shop anymore. I’m pretty much done shopping for the weekend. I have groceries being delivered on Tuesday, so that’s already covered. I basically got everything I need. I’m still okay to do other stuff.”

“Are you sure, Rachael?”

“Yeah. As much as this whole situation sucked, I don’t want men running my life, either.”

“Amen to that. Okay, kiddo. Finish your food, then buckle up. We’ve got places to go.”

-----

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raitchparker · 7 years

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Monday, January 23, 2017

History will address the tidal wave of anxiety that the country grappled with in the last couple of weeks far better than I can here. It happened on Friday. President Tangerine Baggy Eyes was sworn in and we, for the most part, watched. Historically few of us attended in person, which was a small relief, but it was also cold comfort. It felt as much a psychic blow as traumatizing as 9/11, to me at any rate. We are all seated, like anxious jackrabbits, waiting for the backhand of his horrid decisions now.

On Saturday, though, we took it to the streets. I joined about 20,000 people in St. Louis, not three miles from my house, in front of our old Union Station. I went alone. I spoke to many, and befriended a lovely (black) woman from Belleville, IL. I would take her to be about my age (she has a grown daughter and grandchildren and a baby face that defies her age). It was, she said, her first protest. She joined a conversation I was having with two women, and we stuck together for most of the march.

She was far from the first protester I saw there that day. In the 90s and in the anti-war marches I participated in during the Iraq War, there were moments where I felt like I was part of a mostly-silenced clique of lefties. You’d see many of the same faces. Anarchists would battle with Greens. The movement in the 90s fractured because, let’s face it, there was a lot that needed tending to.

I stopped going towards the middle of the first decade of the 00s because, well, the news did, too. I continued to do what I could (albeit, not nearly enough) with money, with letters, with phone calls. I started to feel like showing up in person had become the stuff of a South Park joke. My friend Steve who lives in L.A. said that he got rid of his weekend apartment in Malibu because, in his words, he wasn’t really getting out of town. “It was the same assholes,” he said, preferring instead to hide away in calmer, far less 1% Palm Springs.

While I wouldn’t call any leftie an asshole, that is how I grew to feel about the progressive protests I mostly went to. The same people, the same faces, the same chants, preaching to each other in the absence of an effective, engaged media who gave us no attention. We were nothing more than large swaths of the converted.

That was not the case on Saturday. I walked, for a while, next to a woman in her 80s who had also come on her own, on public transportation. Her granddaughter was in DC, and so, she said, she had her daughter look up information for her on the Internet (something this woman joked about not understanding how to use) and there she was. A young man, either just north or south of 30, admitted it was his first protest.

“Not your last, I hope,” I said. He nodded. How could it be.

Hope lives in small, dark corners always. I would argue that Occupy lit a spark that for a time, gave way to a steady blaze. I’ve felt those embers, still there, ever hot, since. Those embers gave way to Bernie, to Black Lives Matter, to the Women’s March. You can blow out a flame, Peter Gabriel sings, but you can’t blow out a fire.

Of course it’s not so simple as that and we all have to accept that we are going to lose things. We don’t know what yet but, at very least, we’ve probably already lost much of our nation’s dignity (precarious as that was). I’m doing what I can not to look too far into the inky black midnight of the future. There is no point of speculation. There will be enough daily horrors to occupy all of us.

My favorite sign from Saturday’s protest in St. Louis.

Herbert and I are existing on the fumes of the exhilaration of owning a new home. As I type this, a lovely man from the Container Store is performing a grass roots revolution in our closet that will add some dozens of square feet of shelving and racks. These are small things, and we are privileged to have them. Cass and I ferreted out a reasonably priced sectional sofa at Macy’s which I plan on ordering this week.

The movers lost a few things. The shelves to our insanely heavy steel Sapien-ripoff bookcases are gone. There are pianos that weigh less than those shelves. My heart goes out to the household where those carefully wrapped, bubble rapped, multi-hundred pound bundles ended up. I’m also down an absurdly expensive Italian designed stepladder for which I had a dumb amount of affection. I’d bought it right after I moved into my loft in L.A. Flush with cash and short on storage room (I had none) everything had to do double duty as art and function. I hope whoever is now in possession of my (I won’t say how much because it’s just too white of me) ladder appreciates that it is a glorious piece of design. You know. For a step stool.

The family has been in and out helping us when and where they can. Deb and Curt Parker disinfected the kitchen the day we moved in. There are surgical theaters that have more germs than our kitchen cabinets did after that afternoon. Deb cheerfully cut shelf liner, eviscerated the contents of any box labeled “kitchen,” and within 3 hours, the place was newly inhabitable.

Cass was here the moment I realized the shelves were gone. I don’t like those bookcases that much anymore. They were ideal for the skinny hallway in which they used to sit and, frankly, they looked silly here. However, the moment I realized that we couldn’t unpack our boxes of books, I let out a long, and sorrowful, “fuck,” and stood defiantly in our unpacked basement.

Cass was there, arm around my shoulders. “Smoke a bowl,” she said. “It’s all going to be okay.” The empty and now useless spines of the bookcases are standing as a signal of utter Western greed and futility in our basement now, a reminder that I should have followed my instincts and sold them or given them away when we were still in L.A.

So, we need new shelves. Herbert and I made the obligatory IKEA run yesterday which resulted in our taking home the things that always somehow vanish or need to be replaced in a house move: lampshades (hey, can we work on a design that maybe doesn’t guarantee utter disintegration of a lampshade in less than a decade?), bathroom rugs, dish towels, oven mitts, hooks, “Do we need a spice rack? What did we do with our spices in L.A.? Were they in a drawer? Why did we have the fucking spices in a drawer?”, and a new garbage can for the kitchen and, yes, an idea for the shelves which we plan on buying soon.

He was scarfing down the rest of the air in his nearly empty tank by the end. They should have marriage counselors staffed throughout IKEA stores. I mean, we made it through okay, by the skin of our teeth, mostly because our needs there were simple. I overheard so many “Well, I’m just answering your question” arguments about shower curtains and bed frames. IKEA is where fractured relationships go to die.

We are in love with our new castle. It’s lovelier than anything I deserve. Our neighborhood is quiet and, outside from the NRA sticker festooned Jeep Cherokee that keeps taking its half out of the middle in our narrow parking garage (I had to leave a note; I hate leaving notes, especially in Trump’s America), our neighbors also seem quiet and lovely.

Then, there’s this: Herbert is going to start taking a new drug soon. The paperwork is long and demanding, and the saintly nurses at Barnes are taking care of that. This medication without insurance copays would cost us $96,000 a year. With copays: $3,000 per quarter, or about $12k annually. There is a copay program for which Herbert thinks he will qualify. In other countries, this medication, at most, costs between $100-$200 per month.

The Senate had a moment last week where Americans could have started to purchase drugs from Canadian pharmacies. It was good, hardworking Sanders who put it up. These are the Democrats who voted it down:

Bennet (D-CO) Booker (D-NJ) Cantwell (D-WA) Carper (D-DE) Casey (D-PA) Coons (D-DE) Donnelly (D-IN) Heinrich (D-NM) Heitkamp (D-ND) Menendez (D-NJ) Murray (D-WA) Tester (D-MT) Warner (D-VA)

Even with insurance (our plan, in terms of copays, is excellent) if we were making more income, say if Herbert was working, I’d be spending over 10 grand a year on a medicine for which there is no generic. If we weren’t down to a single income, I have no idea what we’d do. If we don’t get approved for the copay, I still have no idea what we will do. I suppose, at that point, my only recourse is to be grateful for America’s Bankruptcy laws?

I’ve been back to writing for money, which has taken a clear hit on my writing for sanity. Moving and Trump have been disruptive, but, like I did when we got a little settled at my dad’s house, I feel like some calm could be returning to our lives. The calm will calm, despite Herbert’s health, provided that I don’t have to sell the car to buy his drugs.

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eqtmonline03-blog · 6 years

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Turkey: A Glimpse of America's Future

POITOU, FRANCE - Coming into focus is a fuller picture of the worldwide financial crisis.

This week, we began looking at Turkey, but only because Donald Trump sent an extraordinary tweet last Friday.

In it, the president broke with tradition and common sense in a remarkable way. He used a crash in the Turkish lira to justify a new attack in the trade war.

Instead of soothing words that might have calmed the crisis situation, his tweet made it worse. And instead of coming to the aid of an ally in difficulty, he piled on.

We had never previously spent even two minutes thinking about Turkey or its finances. But then, after the president roused our curiosity, we saw what we think was a glimpse of the future.

In it, we see huge defaults... stock crashes... chest-pounding... threats and counterthreats... populism... betrayal... trade wars... and currency wars... as the world reckons with $115 trillion in excess debt.

Back to that in a minute...

Earthy Language

Yesterday was the Feast of the Assumption. France is overwhelmingly Catholic, so the occasion was marked by remembrances all over the country.

We were invited to join a procession at a nearby château. The place was magnificent, high on a cliff, overlooking the valley of the Benaize river.

View of the Benaize valley from the castle ramparts

When we arrived, a small group was already offering prayers to a small statue of the Virgin. Singing followed, then more prayers, and then the faithful began a procession, carrying the statue in front of them.

We were a little shocked by one of the verses, in which Mary gave Christ to the world "from her 'entrailles' [bowels]."

The French tend to be earthy and direct in their language. We had a maiden aunt for whom "freshen up" was the polite way to say "go to the bathroom."

But in France, if you're in a restaurant and ask for the "bathroom," the waiters will be surprised. Why would you want to take a bath in the restaurant? It is the toilet you want.

Likewise, the children of a second marriage are referred to as coming from "the second bed," which is a little too vivid for Anglo-Saxon imaginations.

But back to the procession... We made our way down a narrow path to a grotto in the valley below. There, the Virgin was placed among candles with a small fire in front, while the prayers, incantations, and hymns continued.

The path was steep, and it was easier going downhill than up again. Some of the old people found it hard to get back up out of the valley to the château on the high ground.

There, a priest, dressed in a beige, hooded outfit, said a benediction. The ceremony over, we quickly forgot all about the grieving Mary, and sat down to enjoy a gay picnic with our neighbors.

Number 79

But let's depart from the Benaize valley and refocus our attention on the subject of today: Turkey... and the collapse to come.

Turkey has only 1% of the world's GDP, and less than 5% of America's. Small potatoes, in other words. But a great wall always develops a small crack before it falls down.

The great wall we are looking at is one built by $250 trillion of debt, laid up, a billion here, a billion there, over the last 30 years.

The foundation stones were put in place in 1971, when the final tether between gold and the U.S. dollar was severed... and the greenback was cut off from the real world of time and resources.

Previously, borrowings were more or less limited by savings; savings were more or less limited by earnings; and earnings were more or less limited by the number of hours in the day.

There was plenty of room for excesses and extraordinary popular delusions in the pre-1971 world. But there was also a feedback loop that tended - however imperfectly - to prevent things from getting too far out of whack.

At the end of the day, so to speak, mistakes were corrected.

That feedback loop was made of gold. Number 79 on the periodic table, the quantity of gold couldn't be readily increased.

Credit may be created by the financial industry. But it is Main Street output that services debt. And as long as money was linked to gold, neither cash nor credit could get too far ahead of the real goods and services the economy could produce.

Infinite Money

But then, in 1971, Nixon cut the final thread between gold and the dollar. And the cornerstone of today's great wall of debt was laid.

After the foundation was in place, it took a few years for people to realize what they had to work with - an almost unlimited supply of credit.

"Money" could be created by the central banks, and magnified by the financial industry at will, earning fees for the bankers and boosting the assets of the wealthy.

Once people realized that "money" could be gotten readily, their inhibitions about spending it gradually fell away.

"Deficits don't matter," said Dick Cheney. "It would be a good thing if we didn't have [a federal debt ceiling]," chimed Ben "Courage to Act" Bernanke.

"And don't worry about the stock market," added Alan Greenspan (or words to that effect). In 1987, he made it clear that the world's most important equity market would not be allowed to correct excess debt or speculation.

That was the meaning of the "Greenspan Put." If stocks went down, the central bank would push them back up again.

How? By making more ersatz credit available on even friendlier terms.

And so it was... off to the races!

Communists... crackpots... people who lived in caves and had yet to stand fully upright... were suddenly able to cadge millions from lenders who never earned the money, never saved it, and never really worried much about losing it; after all, there was plenty more where that came from!

Why else would any sane person lend money to a Turk... an Argentine... or Elon Musk?

Why else would anyone lend at negative rates? If you lend at 20%, it takes only five years to break even. If you lend at 10%, it takes 10 years. And at 2%, it takes 50 years. The lower the rate, the more future you need.

But at negative rates, the future becomes meaningless. You'll never break even.

Ever.

Missing Future

This is not the real world; this is the phony world concocted by the U.S. dollar and its quack managers.

That is also why lenders - apparently compos mentis, wearing no ankle bracelets, and with no court orders putting their affairs in others' hands - bought Argentine bonds with 100-year maturities.

One year? One hundred years? It didn't matter... The future had gone missing.

That's what happens when a money system gets perverted by fake money. Normally, you do things in anticipation of the consequences.

You save for a rainy day. You turn down a second dessert because you know you will have to get on the scale tomorrow. You leave the pretty woman next door alone because you know her husband has a license for concealed carry.

Actions have consequences! Tomorrow comes. And the neighbor comes looking for you.

The fake dollar distorted the connection between actions and consequences. People could reap what they had not sown. They could invest savings no one had ever earned. They could borrow - big time! - knowing the future (when they would have to pay it back) would never come.

But in the real world, the future does show up... eventually.

And it rolled into the ancient capital of the Eastern Empire last week.

The Turkish lira fell as foreign investors fled and the sun rose over the Bosporus. And Donald Trump added insult to injury with further trade barriers.

Turkey has a GDP of only $900 billion. It has external debt of only $500 billion. These numbers are so small - compared to a $90 trillion world economy... and $250 trillion of debt - that investors shirk it off.

The problem is "contained," they say, echoing those famous words of Ben Bernanke in September 2007.

Then, it was Lehman Brothers that was in trouble. That crack was tiny, too; Lehman had only $619 billion in debt.

Then, too, there seemed little reason to worry. Ben Bernanke had taken over from Alan Greenspan. The Greenspan Put had become the Bernanke Put. The future could jolly well wait.

And Bernanke did come through. With nearly $4 trillion in extra central bank credit, he succeeded in reviving the wildest fantasies of the bubble era... But not before the wall had come down and the stock market had been crushed under the rubble.

More to come on how Turkey... China... and the USA will reckon with unpayable debt.

Regards,

Bill Bonner, Bonner & Partners Vivek Kaul's Diary

PS: I do not know if I will ever boast the kind of wealth Bonner casually waxes on about... but I do believe that a good system for investing in the Indian stock markets is today the surest way to significant wealth. And here, dear reader, is the best system I have ever seen for accelerating profits. Get a free guide explaining the system that can beat the benchmark index 2X! Click here - claim your free report now.

Bill Bonner is the President & Founder of Agora Inc, an international publisher of financial and special interest books and newsletters.

Disclaimer: The views mentioned above are of the author only. Data and charts, if used, in the article have been sourced from available information and have not been authenticated by any statutory authority. The author and Equitymaster do not claim it to be accurate nor accept any responsibility for the same. The views constitute only the opinions and do not constitute any guidelines or recommendation on any course of action to be followed by the reader. Please read the detailed Terms of Use of the web site.

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gabrielaaufreisen · 7 years

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Machu Picchu in Peru

With customers, I am traveling on a Gebeco trip (a German tour operator) in Southern Peru, in the Andes. (Zum deutschen Blog) This also includes Machu Picchu!

Those who speak of Peru, probably automatically think of Machu Picchu as well. Meanwhile we all got used to the unusual height. And the altitude of this mysterious city is only 2400 m above sea level.

The drive to Macchu Picchu

Our hotel, the San Agustin Urubamba, which is located at just 2900 m, we leave early in the morning. We drive the same route as yesterday to Ollantaytambo, where the trains leave for Machu Picchu. Only during the dry season there are few trains per week that start in Cusco.

view from the train to Aguas Calientes

There is a lot of bouldering and crowding, as a train leaves every few minutes. Tickets on site are hard to get, there is nearly no chance without a reservation. The tickets are personalized and got the passport number as well, so that no black market trade with the already expensive tickets is possible.

There are trains with and without included service, which also differ in the comfort. We got prebooked seats with service.

Río Urubamba

Each place is furnished with a table and also with cutlery. The wagons have large panorama windows, also up in the roof, so that also the high mountains that surround us can be seen properly. Shortly after the departure, the service staff introduces themself by name and serves us a delicious sweet quinoa cake and a drink.

Inca bridge over the Río Urubamba

Because of the incredible panorama I nearly forget to eat. The tracks follow the course of the Rio Urubamba, which is currently watering because of the rainy season. Here, between the high, towering mountains, its water gets wilder, countless rapids can be seen. Our guide César tells us that the tracks that lie some meters above the river banks were completely rinsed some years ago and the railway line was thus blocked for 3 months.

train station in Aguas Calientes

Aguas Calientes

After about 40 minutes’ drive, César draws our attention to the beginning of the Inca Trail. Instead of comfortable with the train, hiking you can also reach the hidden city in 4 days. Anyone who chooses this route should book this adventure at least one year in advance with a tour operator, because not only in Machu Picchu visitors are limited to 2500 daily. Also hiking the Inca-Trails is very limited and only possible with a guide. Since César does this occasionally, he tells me that on the way are only campgrounds and the hikers better engage a bearer, because the trail also leads over the mountains.

on the way to Machu Picchu

After about 45 km and 90 minutes’ drive, the train reaches the terminal station in Aguas Calientes. Here we need a new ticket, which is valid for the bus that goes up to the entrance of the city on the mountain, Machu Picchu. The road winds up the mountain for 25 min. Again and again we get a unique view of the rushing Urubamba River and the surrounding mountains.

The Highlight of the trip – Machu Picchu

There we are, at the entrance to Machu Picchu! The vegetation, which has already changed during the train journey from lovely to rain forest, is almost impenetrable where man does not interfere. Even the almost extinct spectacle bear has been sighted several times.

entrance of Machu Picchu

Again, the passport must be shown together with the ticket. An urgent advise, use the bathrooms here as within the excavation site there is no such thing.

First, many steps with different heights must be climbed. Many pause frequently, since the air is also thin here. But it is not cold.

first glimpse of Machu Picchu

Then I reach the first viewpoint over the city on the mountain. I cannot believe it, it´s breathtaking! In the background I see the mountain Huayna Picchu, which looks almost like a sugar loaf, surrounded by clouds. The naming Machu Picchu, which is situated exactly opposite, unfortunately wraps itself in clouds. Its name means “Old Mountain”.

Machu Picchu with the Huayna Picchu

And then the stone houses and terraces. Incredible! Even if the builders could find the building material here, what an effort to build a whole place like that here.

Only the temples were built with the exact hewn stones. Residential and storehouses were built with field stones. How can we recognize that these are original buildings and not reconstructions? The Inca did not build straight walls or gates. They were always running upwards. This was an earthquake-proof construction. The reconstructions are straight as the excavators at that time probably did not know about the old construction method.

terraces at Machu Picchu

houses and fields at Machu Picchu

We take photos from the grounds from several great viewpoints. Clouds come up again and again from the deep valleys, the warmer it gets.

A path leads through the complex, many houses can be explored. Again and again you can see that the natural rocks have also been integrated into the construction method.

buildings and rocks at Machu Picchu

temple wall in Machu Picchu

We or the other tourists must have angered the Inca sun god, because it starts to rain after a while. Unfortunately it rains at least 9 months a year. I am well equipped, and I prefer both my raincoat and rain pants. A good decision, because from the initial drizzle it becomes a permanent downpour, which in no time at all changes the paths in soaked mud and puddles. The lamas, who are peacefully grazing between the houses, prefer to find a less wet shelter.

hiding lamas at Machu Picchu

We humans are less fortunate because only after we have about half the distance behind us, we find two restored houses with roofs that are right at the temple of the Holy Rock. From here you could start the ascent to Huayna Picchu (2700m). Certainly not in the weather … A while ago I saw people at the top, hopefully they find their way down safely.

shelter house with roof in Machu Picchu

In the meantime, I have already tried to photograph several temple ruins with their unique hewn stones. Not so easy because I try to protect the camera as best as it can from the rain.

Unfortunately, the group decides on the end of the tour. We follow the signposted paths towards the exit. At the temple of the condor we stop briefly. The stone on the ground looks like a condor. I am happy that I already photographed the sun temple, a round tower, from above.

Sun Temple at Machu Picchu

I would have liked to have looked at the terraces, the palaces, the cemetery and the quarry more closely, the time would be there, but unfortunately it does not stop raining. So I’ll have to come back some day!

Temple of the Condor

What is impressive with the water masses coming from above, are the many still intact drain trenches and pipes that lead through the whole area. The weather then must have been very similar …

water drain at Machu Picchu

One of the many already waiting shuttle buses brings us down again to the village, where we spend the time to the departure of the train with food and shopping. Anyone who wants to go to the station has to walk through a kind of shopping mall with countless stalls, that want to sell beautiful art but also kitsch to the lingering tourists.

Inca King at Aguas Calientes

On the train we again get a little snack and the “Devil” dances in front of us in a colorful costume before we get to see a small fashion show by the service staff.

dancing devil in the train

Meanwhile, it is dark. In Ollantaytambo our bus is waiting for us, which takes us in a two-hour drive back to about 3350 m altitude, namely to Cusco.

But more of this in my next blog. A few pictures of it can already be found on Instagram or my Facebook page. As always, I am looking forward to your comment or your “like”!

temple ruin at Machu Picchu

#Aguas Calientes #Huayna Picchu #Inca Trail #machu Picchu #Peru #Rio Urubamba

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