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orangeoctopi7 · 3 years

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All of Your So-Called Problems

[AO3 link]

Stan was trying to find room for the leftover Mac and Cheese in the fridge when he heard the doorbell. He grumbled a few obscenities under his breath as he trudged towards the door. He was NOT in the mood for visitors tonight, even if they might be paying customers. The fact that a demon was trying to break into the house to steal some world-ending piece of junk from Ford didn’t help.

"We're closed!" He shouted before he even peeked out the window. He pulled back the blinds just enough to glare at whoever thought it was a good idea to drop by this late, and his eyebrows raised nearly to his receding hairline when he saw who it was.

"Wendy!? Since when do you knock?" Stan couldn't think of a single time she hadn't just come in and made herself at home since she'd started working at the Shack.

"Since Dipper told me you answered the door with a loaded gun earlier today." The teen answered as Stan opened the door.

"Gonna have to have a talk with that runt about blabbing." Stan rolled his eyes. "What, you having a movie night with the kids?"

"Not exactly." The teen jerked a thumb over her shoulder, and Stan finally noticed the rest of the Corduroy family standing just behind her, right off the porch. They were all carrying sleeping bags and pillows.

"...Wha?" Stan could only utter a surprised grunt as his brain tried to piece together why it looked like the entire Corduroy family was here for a sleepover.

"Dipper called me and said we could stay here until your brother puts up a barrier around our house." Wendy explained, noticing her boss's confusion. "...Aaand he never even told you anything about it, did he?"

"He sure didn't." Stan deadpanned.

As if on cue, Dipper and Ford both stepped into the entryway.

"Oh, Wendy, you're here already!" Dipper said, voice dripping with faked surprise. "I forgot to ask Grunkle Stan if it was ok for you guys to stay the night. But gosh, since you're already here, I guess we can't turn you away!"

"You can drop the act, bucko, I wrote the book on It's easier to ask forgiveness than permission." Stan folded his arms disapprovingly. "The answer's still no. We're already putting up one freeloader."

"I'm the one who said they could stay." Ford said firmly.

Stan turned his glare to his brother. "This isn't a safehouse, genius!"

"It's my house, Stanley!"

"Where are they even gonna sleep!?"

"Well, perhaps we'd have some place to put up guests if you hadn't turned the two largest rooms into a tourist trap!"

"Oh, like you kept the place ready for company when you lived here!" Stan countered. "These rooms were both filled to the brim with your weird experiments when I got here!"

“Hey, we can sleep outside like men, if it’s too much trouble to put us up!” Manly Dan interrupted the brothers’ argument.

“Unfortunately, that’s not an option.” Ford shook his head. “The barrier barely extends past the front porch.”

Ford quickly took a mental survey of where there might be extra room. The basement lab was out. He’d finished dismantling the portal, but he was storing the rift down there for now. His secret study was supposed to be a secret, and he still needed to clear out all that old Bill memorabilia. The attic was already taken by Dipper and Mabel. Stanley still had the main bedroom, and Fiddleford was currently sleeping on the couch in the upstairs study. That left the den, which might be large enough for one or two people, but certainly not a family of five. If only Stan hadn’t filled his old experiment and specimen rooms with useless junk! Sure, the rooms hadn’t exactly been empty before, but Ford at least would have known what things could be moved where to make room for their guests. Even his old thinking parlor was… wait…

“What about the parlor?” The old researcher asked.

Stan shrugged. “I kinda use it as a space for rotating exhibits, or whatever else I need at the time. Pretty sure it’s still full of leftover campaigning junk.”

“So, nothing we can’t throw out then.”

“Not so fast, genius, I still haven’t agreed to letting anyone stay here.”

“This is an emergency, Stanley!” Ford fumed. “And besides, it’s not your decision to make!”

Stan regarded the Corduroy family still standing awkwardly on his porch, and tried to imagine Manly Dan with those disturbing yellow eyes he’d seen on that time traveler earlier. He tried to picture the hulking lumberjack acting like that erratic demon. It was not a pleasant thought.

“Alright, fine.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “But only because I don’t want any of these ax-weidling giants possessed by a triangular serial-killer. And don’t expect me to provide any bedding or food!”

“Yeah, we can probably snare ourselves a few squirrels or something.” Wendy’s oldest brother assured Stan.

Stan grimaced. “On second thought, help yourselves to some canned meat. Only the stuff that’s expired though!”

“Thanks Stan.” Wendy said. “For giving us a place to stay until this blows over, not for the expired meat.”

“What? They pad that date out by at least a year. As long as it smells fine, it’s good to eat.” Stan defended himself.

The teen rolled her eyes but stepped into the Shack, followed by her family.

Ford observed them all carefully as they entered. No hesitation or sign of even noticing it as they crossed over the barrier. So they definitely weren’t possessed now. He would have to keep a close eye on them while they stayed. He knew that Dipper trusted Wendy, and that was good enough for him, for now, but the others? Ford vaguely remembered Dan from when he’d been a young man, building this very cabin for him. He’d been friendly, loud, and boisterous. It appeared his sons were cut from the same cloth. But it was hard to say whether or not Bill could convince any of them to try and smash the rift.

“So Wendy, did you manage to get more unicorn hair?” Dipper asked as he helped her lay out a sleeping bag in the parlor.

“Oh yeah. I just snuck into that glade again with a pair of shears and a tranq dart. Works just as well as fairy dust.” She handed a grocery bag full of rainbow hair to Ford.

Ford made a mental note to add that tidbit to the Journal 1 entry on unicorns later. “I’ll get started on it first thing tomorrow.”

Mabel came downstairs to help just a minute later. After a lot of rearranging of campaign signs and novelty phones, everyone had a sleeping space set out. Dan took Stan’s recliner in the den, and his youngest son set out a sleeping bag at his feet. The oldest three children laid out their sleeping bags between the piles of junk in the parlor.

“Ohmigosh, Dipper, we should pull our mattresses down here and have a mega-sleepover!” Mabel gasped as she pushed the last of the campaign signs into a corner.

“What was the point of clearing out all this junk if we aren’t even gonna sleep in our own beds?” Dipper asked tiredly.

“Hmm, good point. Maybe Barry and Stuart can sleep in our beds, and we can sleep down here with Wendy!”

Dipper and Wendy’s middle brother both blushed beet red.

“Uh… I mean… I, uh, I don’t think Wendy would want to sleep with me--US! With us!” Dipper stammered.

“M-me? Sleep in a g-girl’s room? Like a room that a girl sleeps in?” The middle brother gulped.

“Yyyeah, I think we’re good where we are.” Wendy said cooly, trying to diffuse the awkward tension in the room.

“Aw man!” Mabel pouted, but she didn’t put up any other protest than that. Dipper suspected she was still pretty worn out from the rescue mission this morning.

Eventually, everyone got settled down and the children all fell asleep. The elder Pines twins moved back to the living room to check on Dan one more time.

"Hey, now that the kids are asleep, I've been meaning to ask you something." The lumberjack said in a low rumble that was probably his version of a whisper. "How long have there been two of you?"

"Hooboy…" Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn't want to retread this again.

"I'm Stanford. I'm the one you first met when you built this place for me. My brother Stanley has been living here under my name for the last 30 years." Ford summarized tiredly. Apparently he wasn't in the mood to make a big deal out of it right now either.

Stan could practically see the gears turning in Manly Dan's head. Eventually the grizzled lumberjack nodded. "Yeah, that adds up."

With that, he turned over and went to sleep. Stan was a little surprised that the guy accepted their explanation just like that. But then again, Dan had lived in Gravity Falls his whole life.

Ford grabbed a folding chair from the card table and carried it out into the giftshop.

"Are you seriously gonna stay up and keep watch over that snowglobe thing all night?" Stan asked incredulously.

"My usual sleeping place is already occupied, I may as well."

"Y’know, operating on so little sleep just makes you more likely to screw up.”

“Don’t worry. I’m well accustomed to it.”

“Not reassuring.” Stan said flatly, turning and climbing the stairs up to his room. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he probably wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight either. But at least he was going to try. Ford was going to run himself ragged if he kept up this pace.

- - -

Nights in prison were the worst part of the whole ordeal, in Gideon's opinion. At least during the day, he was able to sway the other inmates to do what he wanted. There was a sort of mob mentality that he could take control of. But at night, it was just Gideon and his cell-mate, and there was nothing the boy could do to stop the hulking man from taking his pillow and doing whatever he wanted with it.

Last week, the convicted felon had staged a wedding in their cell. He’d made a veil out of toilet paper and hummed “Here Comes the Bride” and everything. Tonight, he seemed to be discussing the possibility of children with his new “wife”.

“But Tessa, your mother and your aunt both died in childbirth! I’m just worried about you, honey!” He paused for whatever imagined reply the pillow gave. “Adoption, you say? I’ll admit, I had not considered it.”

Gideon groaned. He couldn’t even put a pillow over his ears to try and block out the nonsense! He’d tried to persuade the warden to let him switch cell mates so he could room with Ghost Eyes, but apparently they were “both instigators” and putting them both in the same cell would be “asking for a prison riot”.

The boy’s eyes flicked with annoyance to the cat poster still hiding his last attempt to summon Bill Cipher. The triangle had appeared and promised he was working on something, but so far Bill had failed to deliver.

“Stupid useless demon!” Gideon muttered under his breath. He rolled over, expecting another sleepless night.

Well, it did turn out to be sleepless, but not for the reason he’d anticipated.

It was a little past 10 PM when Gideon heard the familiar sound of an old van’s engine revving. He’d heard it many times on his father’s used car lot, but what on earth would one of those junkers be doing here?

That’s when he heard the unmistakable sound of a van crashing through a wall. Followed by the even more unmistakable sound of a machine gun.

“Heavens to Betsy, what was that!?” Gideon ran to his barred window just in time to see a pudgy man with a machine gun walk away from the wreckage of where a large van had burst through the prison wall. His maniacal laughter sounded familiar.

“Well whaddya know? Bill came through!” Gideon said in a hushed whisper.

He dove away from the window with a yelp a second later when the machine gun started firing in his direction. A few seconds later there was a much quieter bang as a tall ladder hit the wall just outside the window.

“HEY GIDEON, I HEARD YOU WERE GETTING TIRED OF YOUR PRISON AND WANT TO FIND SOMEPLACE NEW TO PARTY?”

“Bill!?”

“THE ONE AND ONLY!”

“Are you trying to kill me, you maniac!?”

“YEESH, YOU FLESH-SACKS ARE SO SENSITIVE! YOU’RE FINE. BESIDES, I NEEDED TO LOOSEN THESE BARS!” He ripped out the bars on the window with ease. They’d already been loosened by the machine gun fire. “YOU COMING OR NOT? I NEED YOUR HELP STAGING A LITTLE PRISON BREAK OF MY OWN.”

Gideon pouted and followed the demon down the ladder, grumbling the whole way.

“... You know what, Tessa? I don’t think I want kids after all.” Gideon’s cowering cell mate said after they left.

Bill kept the guards off them with plenty of machine gun fire, but he had little regard for who he was shooting at, guard or prisoner. He even narrowly missed Gideon on a few occasions.

“Oooh, I hope Killbone’s foot will be ok.” The boy hissed sympathetically as he saw one of his inmate friends go down.

“NAH, HE’S CRIPPLED FOR LIFE!”

They finally made it to the van, and Gideon climbed into the passenger-side door. Bill followed after him.

“A-aren’t you gonna drive?” The boy asked.

“TCH, FUNNY! I JUST RAMMED THIS THING THROUGH THREE WALLS OF CONCRETE; YOU THINK THE MEASLY COMBUSTION ENGINE STILL WORKS?” He flicked a lighter on and dropped it down between the driver’s seat and the steering wheel. Gideon could smell the gasoline. This thing was going to blow any second. He scampered over the benches and out the back door. Bill followed casually behind him.

“Then how are we supposed to get away!?” Gideon demanded as he sprinted to put distance between himself and the burning van.

“RELAX, SHORT-STACK, I’VE GOT A SECOND GET-AWAY CAR RIGHT HERE!” Bill pointed out a small black Audi parked behind a tall tree.

“Then why did you set the van on fire?” Gideon asked in confusion.

“BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT’D BE FUN.” Bill grinned as the van blew up behind them. Gideon screamed and ducked to avoid fiery flying debris. “AND I WAS RIGHT!”

Gideon got into Bill’s car. There was no child’s car seat. “You better drive careful.” He warned the demon.

“AHAHAHAHA, OH GIDEON, YOU’RE ALWAYS A RIOT!” Bill struggled to shift the car into drive, and Gideon had just enough time to realize with horror that the demon didn’t really know how to operate a human vehicle before it sped off through the trees.

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #Gideon Gleeful #Bill Cipher #My Writing

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fanficshiddles · 4 years

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Butterfly Into Chains, Chapter 22

Esme went into her nest, absolutely devastated about what had happened. She shrugged the Alphas off and hit out at them when they tried to assure her. She just wanted to be alone in her nest.

‘I thought omegas didn’t use their nest after giving birth.’ Said Chris.

‘They don’t normally. But she’s been through some trauma so will be seeking a safe place.’ David said quietly.

‘We will need to get her out of there. Take her out somewhere to cheer her up.’ Michael suggested.

‘Not yet. Let her grieve.’ Tom said firmly. ‘But someone needs to be in here at all times, to keep an eye on her. Make sure she’s ok and doesn’t hurt herself.’

The pack nodded in agreement.

Michael sat outside the cupboard, he put his hand inside in hopes she might hold it. But she didn’t. He could hear quiet sobs coming from her.

‘Esme… darling. I know you’re upset, you feel like your heart has been ripped out... But I saw the faces of the couple when they held their new baby girl… They were so happy. You gave them a wonderful gift, a gift that they wouldn’t have been able to have themselves.’

‘Co… Could they not have kids of their own?’ She asked quietly.

Michael turned and pushed the blanket open a little to see her. She looked utterly broken and exhausted. He smiled softly at her. ‘Not an om’

‘Not a child of their own, no.’ Tom said over Michael as he appeared and crouched down to see her. He had a bowl of cereal for her.

Esme looked down, swallowing hard. ‘I just… I really became fond of the idea of having a child.’ Tears streamed down her face.

‘I know, lovely. But you’re young, there’s plenty of time in the future to have one of your own, to keep. Right now, you are doing something wonderful for other couples. Helping them to have children that they crave so badly.’ Tom spoke quietly.

She curled herself up, tucking her knees under her chin. She didn’t say anything, just stared at the wall. She was so conflicted. On the one hand she wanted to help people, so the thought that she made another couple happy was… nice… ish. But on the other hand, she felt betrayed by her Alphas. They hadn’t told her about what was going to happen, they just took her baby away from her without any explanation at all.

‘Esme.’ Tom said softly, stroking her cheek. She jumped and moved away from his touch. ‘Come on out, let us talk properly. Let us hold you.’

She shook her head and tried to move further into the corner, away from him.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ She asked, bravely looking at him. More tears falling.

‘We didn’t want to stress you out while you were pregnant. I know it may have seemed a little harsh the way we did it, but it was for the best. If you’d had time to hold her, it would’ve been a million times worse.’ Tom reached out and circled his fingers around her ankle, rubbing her skin with his thumb.

Esme didn’t respond, she leaned against the cushions at the back and closed her eyes.

‘Come on out and have something to eat.’ Tom sat up more, just half inside the cupboard.

She shook her head. ‘I’m not hungry.’ She whispered.

‘Esme.’ Tom said firmly. ‘You need to eat.’

Esme closed her eyes as she felt a shiver run through her, not a good one. She didn’t like it when Tom used that tone. But she really didn’t think she could stomach any food right now.

‘Tom.’ David said quietly as he came through to the bedroom.

Tom clenched his jaw but leaned out to look at David.

‘Let me. Michael wants to speak to you anyway.’ David said and nodded to the door.

Tom looked at Esme once more before handing the bowl of cereal to David, he gave him a look and then headed out to find Michael.

David crouched down and shuffled just inside of the cupboard, with the cereal. He looked at Esme and felt his heart sinking completely. He reached over and rubbed her arm, feeling a little hurt when she flinched at his touch.

‘I know you’re hurting, poppet. What we did to you without telling you has been… inexcusable. But we just want to help other people, and be able to give you everything you could ever need or want. To be able to spoil you… But we should’ve told you from the start, I know this.’ He sighed and ran his hand down his face.

He didn’t think it would be this difficult. He knew they would all fall in love with their omega, it was inevitable. But he never in a million years thought the process of actually selling the babies and dealing with the aftermath would be so difficult and heart breaking.

‘You need to eat, Esme. I know you don’t feel like it right now, but it will help you. And you need to get your strength back.’ He said softly as he moved further into the nest, glad when she didn’t lash out at him or cringe further away.

‘Please… I don’t want to.’ She whispered.

‘I know, but you need to. If you don’t eat willingly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Tom forces you to. Come on, pet... Do it for me?’ He pleaded, begging her with his eyes when she actually looked at him.

She slowly sat up next to him. He scooped some cereal onto the spoon and started feeding her. ‘Good girl, Esme.’ He praised when she started eating.

Esme ate about half of what was there, then she just started crying again and pushed at David’s hand.

‘No more… please.’ She cried.

David put the bowl down and put his arm around her, he was relieved when she gave in and hugged into him. She buried her face into his chest and really started crying, letting it all out again. David rubbed her back and rocked her back and fore a bit. ‘Shhh, shhh. It’s alright, poppet. It’s going to be alright.’

David just held Esme for a while, soothing her until she was all cried out. He kissed the top of her head and then picked up the last of the cereal and started eating it himself.

‘What Tom doesn’t know won’t kill him.’ He winked at Esme and was happy when she managed a small smile for him.

Michael was in the kitchen waiting to speak to Tom while David sorted Esme.

‘Why did you lie to her?’ Michael frowned.

‘Why were you going to tell her the truth?’ Tom countered, earning a glare from Michael.

‘I didn’t want to lie to her.’ Michael huffed.

‘If she knew that the only reason we sold her child is because the couple wanted an omega or Alpha, that wouldn’t have made her feel any better. Having her think we sell the babies because couples can’t have children at all, will make it easier for her. It’s only a small white lie, one she doesn’t need to know.’ Tom said as he folded his arms over his chest.

Michael sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Ok, fine. I guess that makes sense.’

‘Has she eaten yet?’ Ben asked, leaning on the island counter.

‘Not yet. David is trying with her now.’ Tom sighed.

‘Is it just me, or does David seem rather effected by this too?’ Chris asked.

‘He does a bit, yes.’ Michael nodded. ‘I have a feeling the baby was maybe his.’

The Alphas all looked at him in bewilderment. ‘How do you know?’ Tom frowned.

‘Well… she did look a bit like him, his features. I get the feeling he maybe sensed more of a connection while Esme was pregnant and that’s why he seems to be taking this harder than the rest of us.’ Michael said and Ben agreed, since he was the only other one who actually saw Esme’s baby.

‘The whole idea of there being five of us breeding her is so that none of us get effected in that way.’ Tom grumbled and started pacing back and fore.

‘He seems ok though, nowhere near as bad as Esme.’ Said Ben.

‘He knows this is what the end game was all along, if he can’t deal with it, he knows where the door is.’ Tom said coldly before leaving the kitchen.

‘We should keep an eye on David. If it was his baby, he will be hurting to an extent too. No matter what Tom says, he’s still our friend at the end of the day.’ Chris said to the other two.

‘Yeah, you’re right.’ Michael said as he nodded and so did Ben.

The following day, David managed to coax Esme out of her nest. He got her outside for some fresh air and while they were out, Tom and Chris dismantled her nest in the cupboard. She shouldn’t need it anymore, so they decided to just take it away until she was next pregnant, then they would rebuild it for her.

She was upset when she returned to find it was just a cupboard again. But her inner instincts weren’t screaming at her to need one, so she didn’t make too much of a fuss about it.

The Alphas were happy to have her back in their bed that night. She was still a bit tense and iffy around them, aside from David. She kept seeking him out the most, snuggling into him when possible.

Ben, Michael and Chris understood and thought it would be best anyway. If the baby was David’s, they could both get through it together for now. Tom wasn’t best pleased, but he was giving them some space for now, thinking since it was her first-time giving birth it was bound to be difficult for her.

They were all having lunch together at the dining table one day, Esme was quiet, as she had been since the birth.

‘After lunch, let’s go into town. Get some ice cream and go to the beach.’ Tom suggested with a big smile as he looked at Esme across the table.

He had been expecting her face to light up completely and for her to wolf down her lunch at the thought of going out. But instead she just nodded, with a tight-lipped smile.

Esme felt a little bit happier when they did end up out and about though. She had been disappointed with the fact that David wasn’t coming, he had to go to work for a while with Michael and Chris. So it was just Tom and Ben who took her out.

They went for an ice cream first, Tom got her a double of her favourite which put a proper smile on her face. More so when Ben foolishly lost his ice cream to a seagull that came swooping down at him and stole it right out of his hand. Esme and Tom nearly peed themselves from laughing so much.

When they headed down to the beach, Esme had actually forgotten about her worries and upset. She enjoyed the sea breeze on her face and paddling in the sea. Tom and Ben gave her lots of hugs and kisses, making her feel a little fuzzy and happy again.

But it all came to a grinding halt when they were walking along the beach front and a couple passed them by with a baby in a pram. Esme stopped dead and watched as they walked by, everything suddenly came flooding back to her.

She started crying hysterically on the spot, shaking and falling to the ground. People around looked on, confused and worried.

But Tom and Ben swooped in and took hold of her arms, lifting her up they carried her kicking and screaming back to the car.

#butterfly into chains #fan fiction #tom hiddleston #david tennant #chris evans #michael fassbender #benedict cumberbatch

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paper-whales-writes · 5 years

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Left Behind - Part 3

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE!!

Pairing: Mal x Reader

Word Count: 2,475

Requested By: A hell of a lot of people

You, alongside the rest of Uma’s crew, are sat inside Ursula’s eatery. All eyes transfixed on the TV screen that is displaying the Royal Cotillion live. After giving Uma the inkling to use a love potion on Prince Ben, you are keen to see whether she will potentially use your plan over one of her own.

“Uma better get one up on Mal.” you grumble under your breath; hands gripped around the chipped mug filled with dark dregs of coffee.

“She will Y/N. Uma is nothing but a crafty lass - if anyone can tear down Mal, it’ll be ‘er.” Harry replies, drumming his hook along the wooden surface of the bar.

“I sure hope so, Harry.” You sigh.

The screen is bright: awash with colours, fabrics and fashions that you and all those trapped on the Isle could only dream of. All of them, dancing and smiling; looking well fed and healthy. Unlike everyone in the room of the eatery: gaunt children fed on scraps; with hollow cheeks and intense gazes. Children who have to fight for everything they have. So, seeing the decadence and opulence played on a screen in front of you… it’s enough to make your blood boil.

Yet, it’s not just yourself who’s watching the screen with gritted teeth – most people in the eatery are. Even Gil. Who usually smiles through any pain… or at least tries to? But instead of trying to lift everyone through it, Gil is just slumped over the bar like Harry and yourself. It’s enough for you to pat his hand in lightly – the most affection the Isle will ever permit you to give.

“Are you okay, Gil?” you ask lightly.

He turns away from the TV to look back at you; complete with a small, dejected smile. “I guess I am, Y/N. It’s just… seeing it all on the TV.”

“I know Gil, I know. It never gets any easier. Being punished for a crime we did not commit.”

He nods along with you; placing his hand over yours. “But at least we are a team now. Right?”

“Right!” You reply, squeezing your joined hands.

Harry nudges you both; drawing your attention away from Gil and back to the TV. The announcer is proudly announcing the arrival of Mal – to which everyone in the eatery groans. Soon the disgusted huffs and groans are broken by a laughing splutter. Turning in slight shock, you are confronted by the sight of Harry nearly falling off his stool laughing.

“What even is that dress?! She looks like a failure of a bloody rainbow!”

Harry starts to cackle, hand slipping on his hook ever so slightly. “Why would you ever pair orange, blue and purple? I thought Evie had more fashion sense then that!”

As you smirk over at Harry, you notice many of the eateries’ other patrons are smiling and chuckling at Harry’s outbursts. But you can’t deny that Mal looks like a fashion disaster.

“I was expecting her to look prettier. She never particularly cared about looking pretty – but she would never willingly let herself look stupid.” You murmur, sobering up from your laughter.

“That’s what love does to you.” Harry intones.

With in seconds, the comments have stung – rubbing salt into your still open wounds. Was it obvious to everyone then? That you were head over heels for her; yet she barely felt a thing? Almost as if your relationship was a strategic move on her part, to get your brains and knowledge? To use against all her and her mother’s enemies? Maybe so, maybe not. But even so, it’s pretty clear that the years you spent as her companion – even just as friends – meant next to nothing as her.

As your facial expression hardens, Harry notices and seems to wince slightly. “Sorry, Y/N.”

“An apology from Harry Hook? Am I dreaming?” You laugh, having to brush off your stinging wounds with the ever-present blanket of apathy.

“Guys, it’s Ben and he’s with… Uma?”

From the sound of Gil’s confused voice, you and Harry turn away from each other and turn your gazes to the TV screen. There she is, Uma, arm in arm with Prince Ben and waltzing among the princes and princesses of Auradon. Doing you all proud.

The next hour or so is spent watching the events of the Cotillion. All with ‘oos’ and ‘ahhs’ as you watch Uma battle it out with Mal in their super-sized forms.

“Did you know that either of them could do that?” Harry asks you.

“Not. At. All.” You breathe, slightly awed at the majesty of both your ex-girlfriend and best friend’s powers.

But soon, the battle is over. Mal returns to the deck of the ship alongside cheers and shouts of being Auradon’s hero; while Uma delves down into the ocean’s depths. The former registers to you first; causing anger to surge through your veins. As if Mal gets to be the hero… even though she had the same plan that Uma did when she first came to Auradon. Yet, with Harry’s tight grasp on your arm, Uma’s disappearance dawns on you like a fresh wave of despair.

“Do you think she can get back?” You breathe.

“I don’t know…” Gil trails off, before Harry starts to pace.

“We have to find her, what if she can’t get back…” He mutters, over and over.

Standing up, you steer him to look at you, hands grasped firmly on his shoulders. “Harry, calm down. Let’s work out a plan, we can think of something. At the very least, you two start to look for her and I will deal with the crew and all these politics. Okay?”

He looks at you, desperate for anything rope to cling onto. “Okay.”

“Now go bring our girl home, no one in this crew gets left behind.”

The barrier is coming down. That's all you have been informed of, before being crushed in hugs from Uma, Gil and Harry. "We did it, Y/N! We did it!" Their celebrations cause a smile to light up on your face. When you were told of the boys' plan to find Uma, you happily stayed behind to look after the crew and maintain the territory. It was a task that didn't need all three of you, even though you were miserable away from all your friends. But not only have your boys found Uma, they've also managed to dismantle the political barrier of Auradon's distrust. "I'm so proud of you all!" You squeal, burying your yourself deeper into the group hug. "Come on, we need to get ready for it. We're saying goodbye to this barrier in style!" Almost like clockwork, Uma's command is enough to spur the crew to action. While members of the crew flock to spruce the ship up, Uma's hand grasps your shoulder as she tugs you towards her. "Not you. You've done enough work while I was away. We're getting new clothes." "New clothes?" You question, raising your brows. "Yes, no hesitating. Evie has given us fabric and supplies to work with... So no complaining! If Mal's going to be there when the barrier comes down, we're going to show her what she's missing out on." "Uma... I don't know." "Come on, Y/N! We both know how to sew!" Uma exclaims excitedly, squeezing your shoulder in encouragement. "Sails and tattered clothes, Uma. Not dresses." "Oh come on Y/N, you sew up wounds all the time! How can a dress be much different?" "They're wildly different, Uma! Can't we just go to Dizzy with this?" Uma sighs, stalking over to a chest that was brought upon deck when they returned. "How can you trust Dizzy with these?" She beckons you towards her. Inside the box is a cacophony of fabrics - edgy and bold just like the Isle. Uma's fingers are already itching towards a teal fabric that just screams 'open ocean'. Like a moth drawn to the flame, you start to root through the fabric until you find a lavender fabric, streaked through with silver strands and lace. Instantly, your attention is hooked. "You like it? Take it, it's yours. No strings attached." Meeting her eyes, you struggle to comprehend it. No one has given you something out of the goodness of their heart - even your place on this crew was procured through hard working and even being a snitch. Yet now, Uma is willing giving you something. "Thank you, so much." You breathe, throat clogged with emotions. The fabric is soft to the touch and with that, you're sold on Uma's idea. "Well, we better get sewing." You say meeting her eyes with a smile - You stand behind Uma, practically beaming as she sings to Mal. Somehow, some kind of magic maybe, has allowed all voices to carry across the space between the Isle and the shores of Auradon. You're still quite prickly over the fact she and Mal have seemingly buried the hatchet sometime their shared adventure. But maybe it's time to forgive Mal? She has ended up doing the right thing, even if it has taken longer than it should've. Well, that question can be answered when you'll inevitably see her... Singing along to the chorus of excited voices, you follow the others - through the cobbled streets of the Isle; across the barrier and all the way to Auradon. Even you know the barrier will no longer be in place - it's what you're all celebrating, of course - there was still a prickle of fear within you when it came to crossing from the Isle and onto the adjoining bridge. Nothing happened. Actually no, something did happen. You surged onto the bridge and into a celebratory dance with even more vigour than before. Yet, as all things do, the dance ends. With citizens from both ends of spectrum mixing together: talking, laughing and introducing themselves. A new life being made. As you gaze around at those in the crowd, your eyes land on Harry trying to give his beloved captain a kiss, causing you to grin from ear to ear. As soon as you joined the crew, you knew there was chemistry between those two - heck, even before then! But being in their close circle really allowed you to see it. Given time, those two can create their own love story that will rival even Ben and Mal's. Just as you start to walk over to them all, a hand shoots out to grasp your arm. While you flinch in reaction, the voice that sounds right behind you makes that flinch encapsulate itself into a grimace. "Can I talk to you?" You can see Uma's gaze shooting to you, concern dancing across her dark eyes. With a small smile, you nod at her, signalling that you are okay. Then, and only then, do you turn to face Mal. "I feel like this conversation has been overdue, don't you? Especially in light of recent events." "I agree." There is silence between you as you both walk away from the celebrations. Almost as if Mal is struggling to start her spiel of apologies and what else she's planning to spit out of her mouth. It's fun to see her struggle. Usually so suave, confident and powerful; yet now silent and cowering. "Look, Y/N. I don't really know what to say." Her works are stunted, awkward. So far away from your last conversation. "An apology for leaving me behind? For forgetting me? For moving on without me so, so quickly?" You smile dangerously at her. "I-" "Thing is Mal, I honestly thought we were still dating when you left. You never told me that we weren't. The only way I knew we were not was I saw you and Ben, kissing and making undying promises to each other." She bites her lip and from over her shoulder you can see Ben watching the both of you intently. There's no way the pair of you could ever repair anything you ever had, that's crystal clear now, even a cobbling a friendship back together would be near impossible. "I, I -" "Save it, Mal. An apology isn't genuine." Turning away, you start to stalk your way over to Uma and your crew. Your friends.on your way, you pass the rest of the Core Four who stare at you in sadness. "Don't give me your pity." You snarl as you pass, "Go back to your party." With your anger, you end up finding yourself standing on the shore of Auardon. Glaring venemously past the silhouette of the Isle and to the horizon beyond. The only way to get away from all of it is to go somewhere else: where you don't have to see any of their faces or be held accountable for anyone else. "Y/N!" Your name is called by a cacophony of voices: Mal, Uma, Harry and all of the rest of the Core Four including Ben. You merely stare at them all, a brow raised. "Y/N, I am sorry! I really am! You were just a victim of my selfishness - I was stuck in my own head, my own life... I forgot that other people depended on me. I'm so sorry, I never wrote and I never got back in contact... most of all, I caused you so much pain. I'm so, so sorry!"" Mal's voice starts to break, and she forces herself to take a breath to maintain her composure. "I know that I will be probably apologising for the rest of my life. But please, can we be friends? Come to Auradon and blossom into what you always wanted to be. Please, stay and let me make it up to you." Biting your lip, you struggle to formulate a reply. In this time, Evie also breaks her way into the conversation. "All of us are sorry Y/N, we left you. With the knowledge of what the Isle is - was - like and we still did it anyway." Jay and Carlos nod along, eyes intent on you. "Can you forgive us?" There. The million-pound question. Breathily, you run your hand through your hair before stealing yourself up to reply. "It will take me a long time to forgive you. But I will try." They all visibly relax. "But, I can't heal on the Isle or in Auradon." "Y/N?" Uma questions, walking towards you slightly. "I need to get away from here, find out who I am. Please understand." They all nod and, as if there is a switch within you, you feel yourself lighten. Smiling, you turn back towards the waves lapping gently on the shore. Gazing, in anticipation, out at the new horizon beyond. Your horizon. Your future. In which you won't just be the sum of your parents or the one that they left behind.

#mal x reader #mal x ben #mal bertha #mal descendants #descendants #disney descendants #Descendants 2 #descendants x reader #descendants 3 #descendants imagine #descendants imagines #uma descendants #harry hook #gil descendants #evie grimhilde #Carlos De Vil #jay descendants

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prongsisabadger · 3 years

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TWP: Chapter 18

"Patch me up quick and give me a shot of something strong. We haven't finished here." I said as the Pack secured the area around us. "Take Headfirst to the triage, and come back. I have a feeling this will get even uglier before it gets any better."

I felt their unease, and I understood why. Both my ears were bleeding and I had a pretty nasty burn on my shoulder. But none of that mattered right now. I was still able bodied, and other than discomfort and a little pain, there wasn't much that would hinder me. Had it been more serious, the Medic would have taken over and ordered me back to the medical triage. But it hadn't, and we still had an objective to achieve.

"I swear Ma'am, you Jedi are made of tough stuff." He said as he gave me a bacta shot on the neck. "But please be careful, if given the opportunity, things often get worse."

I turned to my left to smile at him. I couldn't see his face because of the helmet but it was pretty clear to me that he was genuinely worried.

"Don't worry about me, trooper," I said as I stood up slowly. "It takes more than a little fire to take me down."

The battle lasted another twelve hours, to our dismay. But at least we managed to take out every single droid in a 50 clik radius. We were all worned out and exhaustion was starting to settle in, but we managed to set up camp, make a headcount, and secure the perimeter before dusk. Wolffe was waiting for me in the command centre when I walked in. I had been monitoring and helping the troops set up tents and checking the perimeter when the squad assigned finished booby trapping the thing. The Clone commander looked tired, very tired, like he was running on whatever adrenaline he had left and three big cups of kaff.

"You took an unnecessary risk today, Commander." He said without lifting his face from the holomap displayed on the table. "That explosion could have done a lot more damage."

I sighed and took the mug from his hands before taking a big gulp. "A risk that had to be taken, Wolffe." I answered before giving him back the mug.

"There are very few Jedi, and each of you packs the strength of a hundred troopers. We cannot afford to lose any of you." He said finally looking at me. "Us clones were engineered to be soldiers, to die for the Republic. You are keepers of pea-"

"My life is not worth more than that of any clone, Wolffe. I already told you that." He sighed, frustrated, exasperated, but not angry, not really. "Get some rest, I mean it. You look like you are going to drop unconscious any minute now."

I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. He had taken over the entire operation once I went down. He hadn't seen or heard anything from me until after everything had been over. I could feel just how worried he had been, how frantic, stressed and scared he'd been. We had lost men that day - almost a dozen-, we had fought as hard as we could and even if we had won, the stress on the body and minds of each of us had taken quite a beating the past three days.

"You are the one who got injured," He said, turning to look at me. His eyes said it all: He was hanging from a thread. "I'll cover the first shift."

I smiled at him sadly before putting one hand to his temple and using the force to knock him unconscious. I grabbed him before he fell to the floor and carried him to a cot to the side of the tent. Stubborn as only clones could be. I took the half finished mug of koff and started writing my report. It would be a long night.

…

When Master Plo declared the planet taken, the extractions started. We moved the injured first along with the supplies and gear. We were all glad to get off this Force forsaken rock and go back to Coruscant for some well deserved time off. But we all knew it wouldn't last long. The war was escalating every day and the GAR's forces were beginning to stretch themselves thin. We would get a week or two tops.

I watched as four troopers loaded the tactical table onto the gunner to be shipped up to the carrier. The command centre was always dismantled last. All around me, members of the 104th waited for orders in little groups, chatting and joking with one another. They are safe now, at least until our next deployment.

"Thank the maker, we have a long trip ahead of us and a few weeks of leave. I don't think I could have finished that tattoo of yours otherwise." Said Art behind me before patting my left shoulder carefully. My armour had taken the brunt of the explosion and had been all but ruined after that, so the troopers had made a point not to be too rough in their interactions in case my back was still tender. Word had spread pretty fast that the Jedi Commander had basically turned herself into a meat shield to save one trooper. None of them said it, but I could feel the shift in their regard for me. Respect felt nice.

Oh, you'll have plenty of time to work on it," I said remembering the conversation I'd had with Master Plo that morning. "I'll be staying in my quarters aboard the cruiser. The Temple's being flooded with younglings whose parents want to keep them away from the war, so I don't have a place there anymore."

Something in Art's demeanor changed, he seemed pleased with the Idea.

"Brilliant! Then maybe we can introduce you to some fun past times we clones have, aye, Commander?" He said winking. "I bet you suck at karaoke."

…

I had expected the dreams. I had known my mental health would take a beating the minute I stepped on the battlefield that first day on Geognosis. I thought I'd been prepared. I was wrong. The thing about the Force is that it's very hard to describe to those who are not sensitive to it. The Force allows us Jedi to feel other being's feelings, but also their physical responses to pleasure and pain. The sinking of the gut when you receive bad news, the squeeze of the heart when you feel deeply for someone, the pain of seeing someone die before your eyes. And the fear, don't get me started on the fear. Now imagine feeling all of these things for yourself and for the other thousand life forms around you, fighting to live another day.

My nightmares were not just a reflection of my fear and my pain and my sorrow. It was a reflection of everything I'd felt the clones go through on the battlefield. Many had seen their brothers die before their eyes, others had held them while the only family they had took their last breaths before joining the Force. The thing is, when you don't know or don't believe death is not really the end, then it can be very daunting, very scary, life suddenly is full of uncertainty.

I had yet to find a way to deal with my emotions in a healthy way, the fact that I had to deal with the weight of others' as well made everything a lot harder. Master Plo would tell me to reach out into the Force and let it guide me. He would tell me to Meditate on it, to sit with my feelings and really understand them, acknowledge them, accept them and release them. It was easier said than done, as most things in life. Healing trauma is and has always been hard. The entire process can be just as painful as experiencing a traumatic event itself. Healing trauma is most certainly not for the faint of heart. Only truly strong people are willing to face their worst fears, and at the time -with everything that was going around- it was very hard to be strong, to be brave.

The first few days off duty were the roughest. Every time someone would walk past my door, I'd wake up with a starta and with my lightsaber on hand. I slept little, rested even less. Nights were filled with blaster fire, explosions and death. Every once in a while my nightmares would end with a droid standing over me, a blaster aimed at my head. But the worst ones were when Master Plo got shot down, or Wolffe, or Art - even Headfirst got blown up by a bomb once because I couldn't run fast enough. I went out only to eat at the mess hall. Sometimes one of the boys would ask if I wanted to join them for some activity or other, but in the state that I was in, I didn't want to ruin the fun for them. I tried to meditate, to keep my emotions in check and under control. It only took a week for one of my nightmares to break me. The CIS' army had taken all of my platoon hostage, and were executing them one by one like cattle in a slaughterhouse. I spent the rest of the night sitting cross legged on the floor outside the door to the clone's sleeping quarters, lightsaber on my lap. Twitch found me right before dawn when he was heading out for first watch at the bridge, and naturally, he reported it to both Wolffe and Master Plo.

I was put under observation, they didn't call it that, but I was to have at least one trooper with me at all times. I was given a new schedule I was to follow, which included compulsory recreational time and workout. It was a strategy clone troopers used when someone was having a hard time dealing with PTSD regardless of their training. By having someone with them at all times, triggers could be identified more easily, by having a fixed schedule they made sure to establish a sense of control and safety as well as making sure the person did not neglect their physical health.

Master Plo pulled me aside so we could speak about the issue, but we came to the conclusion that, other than making sure I didn't neglect my physical health and working on myself during the time I had on my own, there wasn't much we could do other than wait. I was already meditating and connecting with the force every chance I got, every night before sleep and after waking up from a nightmare. I would have to learn to cope on my own, because no one could give me a path that was mine to find.

It was humiliating and demoralizing to the troops -or so I thought-, after all, who wants a CO who can't keep their shit together? I was wasting everyone's time. The troopers either didn't care much or did a very good job at hiding it. Those who had been assigned to watch me were good natured and approached the issue as if it was just another part of their duty. What I didn't know at the time was that it was -in fact- just another part of their job. Clones were not just trained to be soldiers, but medics, enegeneers, techs and yes, even therapists. They understood they were probably the only ones in the galaxy who had such extensive training, and didn't mind putting their skills to good use -that was what they had been created for after all.

But it worked, some would say it worked a little too well. I did start to sleep better, I started trusting the clones to be able to fend for themselves, and to seek help if they needed it. I learned how they operated behind closed doors, when it was friday night and they went out for drinks. I realized they were human individuals who knew the price soldiers paid for surviving. They would never judge me or anyone else, they would even offer their help wholeheartedly because they knew. They knew. And they opened their world to me because we were Pack, and we protected each other. Some would say it worked too well, because being made to feel safe around others is trusting them, it is them trusting you, it is forming bonds, it is forming attachments.

#TWP #star wars the clone wars #star wars #clone wars fan fiction #plo koon #commander wolffe #ahsoka tano #obi-wan kenobi #captain rex #padawan!oc

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mastcomm · 4 years

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Your Wednesday Briefing – The New York Times

Trump’s Mideast peace plan favors Israel

Israel’s cabinet is set to vote this weekend on plans to unilaterally annex the strategically important Jordan River Valley and all Jewish settlements on the West Bank.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu of Israel announced the planned vote on Tuesday, just as President Trump unveiled a long-awaited peace plan that would make Jerusalem the undivided capital of Israel without requiring the country to uproot any West Bank settlements.

The annexation would establish what the country’s leaders have coveted since 1967: a permanent eastern border for Israel along the Jordan River, recognized by the United States. That’s certain to further inflame Palestinians.

Context: Mr. Trump’s plan offers the Palestinians the possibility of a state with limited sovereignty and essentially dismantles 60 years of bipartisan support for a negotiated process between Israelis and Palestinians.

As coronavirus spreads, travel warnings pile up

Governments and businesses around the world issued new travel warnings for China on Tuesday, as officials in Germany and Japan reported the first known cases of human-to-human transmission in those countries of a coronavirus that originated in the Chinese city of Wuhan. Here’s the latest.

Notably, the authorities in Hong Kong said they would suspend high-speed train services between the territory and the mainland, among other measures, starting on Thursday.

Details: At least 132 people have died from the virus in China, the government said today, and the number of cases there increased to 5,974, up from 4,515 a day earlier. Here’s what we know about the virus.

The science: Researchers are working on a coronavirus vaccine, but it’s a slow process. And we look at how bats, which could be the source of the outbreak, carry so many viruses.

Go deeper: The outbreak has blown up the Chinese Communist Party’s facade of a unified society, our columnist Li Yuan writes.

Opinion: Elisabeth Rosenthal, a former Times correspondent and emergency room physician, says that washing your hands is the best protection against the new coronavirus.

The move could jeopardize Mr. Johnson’s efforts to negotiate a new British-American trade deal after Britain formally leaves the European Union on Friday.

But Mr. Johnson’s show of independence played well with British commentators, and experts said he had calculated that the U.S. would not halt intelligence cooperation.

Background: Britain’s membership in the so-called Five Eyes intelligence-sharing group, with Australia, New Zealand, Canada and the U.S., gives Mr. Johnson’s decision added significance. And it comes as Germany is also deciding whether to work with Huawei.

Details: British officials said intense American arguments that the Chinese telecommunications giant could be used by Beijing were not persuasive, given Britain’s plan to limit the use of Huawei’s gear to what the officials characterize as “fringe” parts of the national 5G network.

If you have 15 minutes, this is worth it

A giant tax heist

From 2006 to 2011, “cum-ex trading,” a monetary maneuver to avoid double taxation of investment profits, enabled hundreds of bankers, lawyers and investors to siphon about $60 billion from state coffers in Germany, France and other European countries.

What we’re looking at: These photos in The Atlantic of the locust swarms in East Africa. “For those keeping track of the plagues hitting the planet,” writes Andrea Kannapell, the Briefings editor.

Now, a break from the news

Cook: Farro with crispy mushrooms and sour cream is similar in texture to a risotto, without the constant stirring.

Read: Our former Cairo bureau chief calls “Black Wave,” a new book about chaos in the Middle East by Kim Ghattas, a Lebanese-born journalist and scholar, a “sweeping and authoritative history.”

Go: Momcations, a getaway designed for tired mothers, are on the rise. While some see it as profiteering, others say it’s a sign of “the mainstream telling moms they deserve a break.”

Smarter Living: Breaking up with a therapist can be nerve-racking. But doing it with these tips in mind can turn it into an opportunity for growth.

And now for the Back Story on …

Reporting in Wuhan

Chris Buckley, our chief China correspondent, is reporting this week from the city of Wuhan, the epicenter of the coronavirus outbreak. Mike spoke with Chris by phone.

What is it like with these unprecedented restrictions in place?

It may be difficult to envisage just how thoroughly people have retreated from the streets and from public life. I had to cross one of the big bridges across the Yangtze for my reporting. And there I was, on one of these Chinese share bikes that are everywhere, on an almost completely empty bridge, spanning one of China’s biggest cities, crossing its biggest river. And there were just two other people on the bridge.

A lot of people wonder how long the shutdown can last. Even now people are worrying about the jobs they may lose, the businesses that will close, the school semesters that they might miss.

You’ve reported that the anger on Chinese social media is intense.

Yes, and you hear that here as well. People erupt with a kind of anger and exasperation over how it was that this dangerous pathogen was among them but they didn’t understand, in many cases, how serious it was or what was going on until the city was shut down.

But that’s leavened by a sense among many people that the most pressing thing is to get through this crisis — so that as few people die as possible and life can return to a kind of normality as soon as possible.

What else are you seeing there?

You see a combination of reactions when you approach people to talk. First of all, there’s a natural wariness about getting close to anybody. But once you reassure them — you’re outside, at a distance of a good 10 feet — they can be very open and also very generous.

How does that compare to the response you normally get?

The reaction you get as a foreign reporter varies quite a bit across China. But I think these circumstances, where people feel that they — and, in a sense, we — are all in this together, and that you’re there somehow experiencing this as well, make it easier to create that connection.

That’s it for this briefing. See you next time.

— Mike and Sarah

Thank you To Mark Josephson and Eleanor Stanford for the break from the news. You can reach the team at [email protected].

P.S. • We’re listening to “The Daily.” Our latest episode is about the ripple effects of John Bolton’s coming book. • Here’s today’s Mini Crossword puzzle, and a clue: It leaves in the spring (four letters). You can find all our puzzles here. • Jason Polan, a New York sketch artist, produced hundreds of illustrations for the print edition of The Times. He died on Monday at age 37.

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redefinethegrind · 6 years

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Road Trip to Tennessee 2018

This was my fear and loathing run. I was to take a road trip with the love of my life to visit her family. I had run out of needs and wants. I simply existed and observed after I had dismantled my previous way of living. It was freeing. I was finally able to experience life as it should be and planned to do so on a short excursion. I would be traversing highways and watching the mile markers pass to convince me that I had indeed moved through space. Sometimes I need cues like these to keep my shoes planted in certainty's topsoil.

As we prepared to road trip I had realized that I had become an automaton in clockwork of consumer culture. Americans exchange bits of information via chip card and superstores render goods. I am able to provide ATP to my cells through granola bars and McDonald’s coffee due to an evolutionary shift. As I write, I am at the prime of my existence and though I know it I often forget that as the machine hums around me. I entered my vacation at a point in which I had been terribly distracted from any purpose that I may have had in my life. I hoped to take time away from my usual surroundings to recover that purpose.

Status check: I can feel my ribcage which means I’m not too far down the food rabbit hole. I fit into a size large men’s shirt and sweatpants. In America we are all large. I am assimilating with my fellow beings. In this culture we are all just swallowing what we are force-fed. I am no different despite my feelings of alienation. I know that I’m an XL at heart, but the times have changed to accommodate our ever- growing frames while retaining an unearned shred of dignity. Yes, they swapped my tags for a large. In three years I will wear a medium, but it will have the same measurements. Americans preserve their self-esteem by simply relabeling and rebranding.

We were into the first leg of our journey and I was drifting in and out of daydream. Somehow highway 71 south seemed longer than I previously remembered. I had been bombarded with thoughts of escape from my daily actuality versus longing for my bed. As we moved forth I was uncertain what to take from this trip. I had feelings that my view of life and the extent to which I had been participating was is disappointing those around me, yet I rarely have felt a longing to change. I am ever confused as to what I have done to become this awkward man with so little to offer in times of angst. The difference between me now and me 5 years ago is I used to not notice how little I fit in. Maybe I hid from it.

When I burned my safety net I too let go of any sense of security. I entered this drive with nothing more than uncertainty. There was little of my life that I had control over. I am no longer uncomfortable with this. I am simply an observer. I am here, in this life, to take it all in. I am still processing and trying to make sense of it. There is no better environment to process in than a long care ride.

I am in a relationship in which I am not sure of my role. I am ever dropping the ball, yet I rarely know when it is my play. It is interesting to me. I have been leading this life now for 8 months without any expectations other than what comes to me. I have absolutely no expectations of anyone or anything. I am no longer disappointed nor am I surprised. It has become a life without hills and valleys. My life is as lackluster as Iowa, yet I am not disappointed. See, I expect nothing, and nothing is what I receive in return. Interesting is this predicament to be in: calm breeding calm.

As the trees and bridges steadily passed me in a blur I could truly say I had no idea what I was doing or why I was there. I don’t say that as a smart ass, I simply had no idea where I was going or what I was doing. I had chosen not to look past the end of my nose into the future. I wanted to just experience life as it approached. I wanted to let life have the driver’s seat while I was an unimpressed passenger for a while. I don’t know what that means but it certainly felt comfortable to me at the time.

I knew that soon enough the stress and anxiety would be back. I would be wondering where my money went and why I still didn’t have a decent job. I would still be waiting on the board of nursing to deliberate and render some sort of decision on my future. I would take it as it came. I knew all of this and remained calm and peaceful despite it. I wasn’t sure if I would ever have a position of control over my life again and honestly didn’t know if I even wanted control. It was easier and more comfortable to lay down and nap. I felt as though that was what I was longing for, sleep.

Apparently, I am as good at navigating as I am picking prize winning roses. I turned out to be a terrible wingman on this trip secondary to my overactive imagination and the flight of ideas which persisted despite the cessation of external stimuli. I had consumed sufficient amounts of caffeine to treat for ADHD but continued with a nonstop pattern of thought for the first few hours of our journey. I had also eaten meat twice in two states, though it was too early to give any input as to whether this had affected my cognition or not. I am leaning toward it had not.

I am sincerely just tied to the internal world with but a hint of an anchor to the external, and road tripping didn’t change that. I remained calm and relaxed as we continued forth. Anxiety had not been an issue whatsoever. In fact, the further I grew from my usual stomping grounds the lighter my load felt. I suppose this was just another way to prolong the inevitable, but it felt about right in our first day of travel.

I had my faithful Cyndi at my side. She was doing her best to remain confident and in good spirits. She truly loves me, this I can tell. I fear that I may be a lot more than she expected mentally. I wish it were an act or a choice when dissonance overtakes my consciousness. I wish I could just turn into the perfect partner without any cognitive restructuring or medication… but I am afraid it isn’t that simple. I do know that she understands as she deals with many of the same issues that I do. I don’t pretend, though, that this makes it any easier on her. It simply isn’t fair at times to act the way I do but I can assure you, I am as controlled at this time as I have ever been. That frightens me because I have still been having episodes of missing time, auditory hallucination (funk bass lines that pound into the night, 8-bit music that is sometimes louder than the television, and at times inaudible children’s voices). I don’t know what these symptoms mean. My ears also felt itchy the further south we trekked and were more full than usual. There was occasionally a lump in my throat and I had been producing extra phlegm. This could have been allergies I suppose, but my mental focus had been on my constellation of symptoms as a whole and what they meant.

As night fell the highway became a familiar landscape of white and yellow lines. Blinking lights from fellow traveler’s vehicles darted left and right just out of my periphery. I was blinking periodically to moisten my contact lenses. I’m not sure who these wayward voyagers were or where they were going, but I can assume that they all had a better idea of that than I did. I was hoping that somewhere along this journey I would get some idea of what the hell it was that I was supposed to be doing with my future.

I am terrified of the idea of working a 40 or 50 hour a week job that means nothing to me. I don’t care about money anymore. I have completely detached myself from the monetary system of power exchange. Possessions no longer hold any emotional value to me. Not a single item in the stores we visited enticed me in the slightest. I was only interested in the provisions of travel. My love of belongings all dissolved in mid 2018. What used to give me some sense of brief satisfaction is now just a nameless product that does little to even draw my attention. The external world has become that of gibberish and nonsense.

Save for a few interpersonal relationships I see almost no purpose in even opening my eyes at times. I don’t mean that to sound morose or depressed, it is just a simple fact. Once every piece of matter has lost all meaning to a man he does not wish to possess or even examine these substances anymore. The stuffs of materialism are simply collections of molecules and no longer hold emotional value. The only effects which provide me with emotional stimulation at this time are intangible. Relationships are where I must focus in my future. Candidly, to do that, I do not see why I would need anything other than modest shelter and food.

Conceivably, other than relationships, I am fond of nature and the beauty of natural creation. I still enjoy exploring this world with the eyes of a child and gazing first hand at the remarkable expressions of the golden ratio which nature effortlessly reproduces time and time again. If I could simply have enough means to realize my ambitions of exploration, I see no reason that I would be any less happy than the time when I earned a six-figure salary. This fact makes my goals simple and my life straight forward. God, family, friends, nature: love and cherish all of them. Occam’s razor.

We had made it soundly to our first lengthy stop on this expedition. A 3-star hotel with a pool which we were just minutes too late to enjoy. Then again, there would surely have been other confused humanoids looking awkwardly at one another as if to wonder what sort of soup they are communally fashioning from their shed cells, incalculable quantities of sweat, and the occasional two-day old Band-Aid. There would have been silver haired patriarchs scowling at their grandchildren; salt and peppered vultures looming from the rafters of their once in a lifetime megalomaniacal expressions of illusory freedom. These sorts of creatures pick apart the carcasses of family vacations in search of control. They are the kind of animals that rape the amusement from their loved-ones in the name of making good time. Yes, it was a blessing masquerading as disillusionment when the pool closed an hour before midnight.

Following a beautiful night of staring into Cyndi’s adoring eyes and genuinely appreciating even her most understated embrace, I drifted to sleep without much difficulty. I, of course, had taken my usual regimen of Benadryl to combat my higher than usual intake of caffeine. Before long I awoke well-rested with thoughts of “what in the hell will I do when this trip is over.” I tried to distract myself by entering our well-appointed bathroom which was much cleaner and more modern than what I was used to at home. I was impressed with the texture molded into the commercial grade bar of soap which is designed to keep from slipping off of the lipless ledge on which it rested. Cyndi said it was to massage the skin, but I know the passionless mind of an engineer and this explanation was not practical enough to make any sense to me. The soap ledge was low enough to be a bench but too small to label it as such. I remember being American enough to scoff as I bent at the waist to retrieve my implements of acceptable hygiene. After using my pubic mound as a white trash loofa, I washed away my feelings of angst as the speakers in my mind blared the chorus to November Rain. Within minutes I was ready to explore the extraterritorial fatherland of country music.

As day two of our road trip drew to a midpoint I had begun to feel a bit of angst. My bank account was not as flush as I had imagined it to be mentally, I had spent just a few hundred dollars more than I had intended. This was not a great deal to me, however, I intended to curtail my spending further as my future was at this point still uncertain. My approach and general word choice when presenting my conundrum to Cyndi caused dissention. It was and never has been my intent to be deliberately disrespectful, and it never is, yet I often find myself wading in the murky waters of awkward silence and inflammatory squabble. I am never sure what to make of this, though as I had been generally happy it did not affect my mood as it normally would have on a down day.

It seems that in all of my observations over the years, finances seem to cause the most arguments to otherwise close couples. I have never been preoccupied with money or the material, and as this trip pushed on I found myself even less interested in materialism. That being said, I was genuinely concerned for our future well-being and felt it necessary to at least voice my opinion on the continuation of depleting our ever-dwindling funds. In typical Ernie fashion I mentioned this in a crass and insensitive manner. It wasn’t long before I realized that regardless of my intentions, I am destined to say and do the wrong thing.

It is times of stress like the ones we lived through in 2018 that are truly trying to couples, particularly young ones. I am confident that we will work through even the toughest of times because we are truly in love. I will, no doubt, say some ignorant bullshit and she will, no doubt, have some emotional outbursts; but, we know one another well enough to give and take where necessary. I find that comforting.

At hotel number two we prepared to take Cyndi’s sisters and nephews to the heated indoor pool. Upon inspection just after check-in there were no other patrons enjoying the rectangular collection of chlorinated communal swill and we fully intended to stake our claim to the entire room despite its lack of a hot tub. My feelings of being a disenchanting life partner were again beginning to fade as I approached my evening optimistically and wearing the rose-colored glasses of vacation. Cyndi’s phone continued to tremble and chime throughout our pre-swim rendezvous, the screen ever illuminated with the names of middle-eastern and African men attempting facetime. She had made the mistake of posting a Facebook picture with a pink lollypop and forever lamented her decision as telecommunication grids bogged down from Pakistan to Nigeria.

The temperate climate of October 2018 in Tennessee had proven to be the perfect backdrop for a relaxing vacation. My mind had been browsing the local cuisine. Comfort food had long been my wheelhouse and when traveling the south, I imagined myself restaurant hopping. Pals provided a comforting lunch, and I again ignored my better instincts and consumed more animals.

As evening arrived we had made our way back to the Morristown mall to retrieve a carrot-cake inspired Persian kitten with curious and empathetic eyes. She knows the absurdity of her thumbing a ride back to Ohio with us, it is palpable in her ever-present purring and sniping meows. This is not a trip for reason, logic, paying bills, or rotating tires. This is a whimsical expedition: an escape. We dissolved into the surroundings of a Quality Inn with a faint breeze in our sails and the sunset now an hour behind us. Cable television had become a luxury to me reserved for vacation and I had left it on as mindless background chatter as I got to know my lovers family a little bit at a time.

After some small talk we settled on pizza for dinner and I drove these kind-hearted women to pick it up. We listened to Elton John’s timeless falsetto through the tinny speakers in my leased Honda Civic as I wove through smeared red and yellow lights posing as light traffic. I felt a sense of belonging in a foreign town, and frankly it was not so different from my own hometown. The highlight of my trip was seeing a genuine smile adorn Cyndi’s beautiful face as she interacted with her best friends, her two sisters. Her sincere happiness is what I had dedicated my entire life to and I knew when I saw her eyes light up and her dimples pop that everything I had traded in to be with her was worth it. Our lives culminated together in that moment, and though she didn’t know I noticed, she was truly happy. My actions this year had seemed reckless and were certainly impulsive, but they did lead to a smile on Cyndi’s face. I had achieved my goal.

From that moment on I knew that I wanted to grow deeper in love with that girl. I wanted to know every facet of her. I wanted to have the deepest connection possible between two human beings. My goal had become to share everything with her and to know everything about her. Then began my true life’s goal. I had finally found it. It was to uncover the deepest spiritual connections in this reality with my twin flame. I sought to grow closer to understanding our human experience and to share it with another human being intimately. My life’s work shifted in that moment. I then understood why Cyndi had truly crossed my path. I had touched on this before, but this trip solidified my belief in our purpose.

We woke up too late again on our final day in Tennessee and an Indian woman was pounding on our hotel room door. Cyndi, her sisters, and myself were slowly stirring. I answered the door and requested a few moments to collect our belongings. I was feeling calm and tired all at once. I showered, and we spent a slow morning bonding after negotiating a later checkout time and letting Cyndi’s nephews swim in the hotel pool. The vacation was winding down. We now had a new housemate in Cakeboss the fluffball kitten. We loaded into the Civic and headed North through a dreary and rainy evening.

The drive home proved uneventful. Cyndi and I bonded over podcasts and standup comedy. I held my new four-legged friend as she slept most of the ride in a cottony mound. The Bellville exit was a welcome site as all six of our collective eyes were weary. As I unloaded the trunk I felt a sense of calm wash over me. I quickly entered my familiar home, it was quiet and clean. I let the dogs out to do their business and my first vacation in a long time, albeit a short one, was over. I will carry several of these memories with me as they are life changing.

All in all, I learned more about myself and my relationship on this trip. That is what I wanted more than anything and I accomplished it. As for my future, I did devise a loose plan. I have also solidified new faces into my circle of those I trust which is always comforting to me. I am at a pivotal point in my existence, I can sense that. I feel the tides shifting. I am done living for anything I don’t believe in. No more phoning it in. It is a time of urgency for me. Many of the emotions I am feeling are firsts. I will turn in tonight and attempt to sleep soundly. Tomorrow I begin planning the rest of my life from my hometown.

#love life vacation findingmyself partners twinflame

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mikeyd1986 · 7 years

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MIKEY’S PERSONAL BLOG 71, September 2017

On Monday night, I attended my Body Balance class with Kaz at YMCA Casey ARC in Narre Warren. I’ve been feeling mentally and physically exhausted leading up to this week. The next few days for me are going to be all about survival, having to pay off multiple expenses and hope that I can stay afloat after sending myself back into financial debt again. It’ll only be a temporary state after I finally get my tax refund from the ATO and get myself back on track next month.

Hence why continuing to go out to my group fitness classes is so important. Because it keeps me grounded and sane amidst all the chaos of forking out money that you don’t have. We had a lot of laughs in tonight’s class which certainly helped to put me in a more positive mindset. Sometimes laughing and not taking things too seriously in the class is really necessary like falling over in a balancing pose or collapsing after a tough Pilates workout. Having fun whilst exercising should always be top priority.

Tonight we did the following poses and movements: Tai-Chi Warmup (Overhead arm swings, bow and arrow), Sun Salutations (Extended mountain pose, forward fold, half lift, downward facing dog, plank, baby cobra, low lunges), Yoga and Balancing (Chair pose, Warrior 2 and 3, Tree pose), Pilates (Seal pose, table top, bridge with pulses, criss-cross crunches), Hamstring Stretches (Wide-legged seated forward fold, staff pose with forward bend) and Relaxation. https://www.lesmills.com/workouts/f...

On Tuesday morning, I had my second session with Dr. Yasmin Baliz at CNS: Comprehensive Neuropsychological Services in Narre Warren. Today was my first day of psychological testing and I could already feel myself getting flustered in the office. I really didn’t know what to expect or how I would go with it. Thankfully, Yasmin has such a warm, patient and lovely personality so she didn’t add any unnecessary pressure on me.

I had to do a wide range of tasks including recreating patterns using blocks, recalling a list of numbers forwards and backwards, general knowledge questions, mental arithmetic, definitions of words, IQ test questions on sequences and geometry. My biggest obstacle was definitely myself...overthinking, second guessing, getting myself worried about making a mistake or not knowing an answer or taking too long answering a question.

Suddenly, I felt 6 years old again, back when I had speech therapy and struggled with my social development. I did make a very interesting discovery in the last couple of weeks, finding out that I was a regular patient at Box Hill hospital back in 1990. I literally couldn’t find my voice back then but at least I’m doing something about it now. I really excelled on the maths and general knowledge questions but found the IQ type questions and pattern recreation ones really difficult. http://humanservicesdirectory.vic.gov.au/...

On Tuesday afternoon, I had an appointment with my counsellor Ruth at Piece Together Counselling in Narre Warren. Today was all about dismantling a lot of personal issues including the burden my financial debt has had on me, the stress and anxiety of the trivia night last week and things that I can look forward to in the months ahead. The most important thing for me in relation to managing several big expenses all due at once is believing that I will survive and overcome this. Things may seem really bleak and depressing right now but I will recover and get back on top of my debt again.

The trivia night last Friday night was a massive bust for me. There were several issues going on for me that night. Feeling exhausted, worn out and stressed about the financial pressure I’m under. Dealing with my parents having an uncomfortable disagreement. Being left out and socially excluded by some of my workmates. I honestly wanted to make a bee-line for the exit during the intermission because I was emotionally drained and over it by that point. I wasn’t enjoying myself at all and it didn’t help that I was in a shitty mental state nor did I feel included by anyone there.

By on the positive side, I did have a few wins. Doing my first ever band interview with Above the Fallen on Saturday. Committing to attending the Do It In A Dress charity event next week, a yoga retreat in November and the UNIFY gathering music festival in January. These are all significant goals for me because they serve to improve my self-confidence, to be part of something bigger than myself, to make contributions to others and work on my personal development. Like Ruth said to me today, I need to give myself more credit and be proud of myself for what I’ve achieved this year. It is a big deal for me. https://www.piecetogethercousellingnarrewarren.org/...

On Wednesday morning, I had my Strength Training session with Luke Davey at Breakaway Fitness in Berwick. I was feeling noticeably calmer and more grounded at UFT today. I think part of the reason is knowing that my tax refund will be arriving within the next 3 days and that I’ll be able to take control of this financial burden that I’m under. But also I was feeling better mentally and emotionally today which meant I could put more energy and focus into my training.

WARM-UP...I began today’s session by doing some stretches into my arm and shoulders using the resistance strap and pulling it out to the side and backwards. I also used a rubber ball to release tension from my shoulder and collar bones and do 3 rounds of 10 push ups on my knees.

DEVELOPMENT...Today I worked on my bench press technique, doing 5 sets of single reps at 52.5kg. This was a personal best for me and for once I actually felt really proud of that achievement. I think the playlist of songs that Luke chose really helped to put me in a positive mindset. Hanson’s mmm bop, Jewel’s Intuition, Rihanna’s Pon De Replay, Jesse McCartney’s Beautiful Soul, Nirvana’s Come As You Are.

In terms of my technique and form, I honestly felt great. I was activating my glutes, legs, chest and arms, I kept the bar path as straight as I could and I really pushed that bar up as hard as I could. There was no frustration or negative thoughts interfering which certainly made it easier and Luke didn’t even have to help much at all. It’s gratifying knowing that I’m getting better and more confident at doing bench press now.

WORKOUT...And here is where my big mental challenge was today. I had to do 3 rounds of the following: 20 walking lunges, 15 squats, 20 walking lunges and 15 kettle bell swings. The walking lunges especially fucking killed me. A mixture of keeping my balance, dealing with the lactic acid buildup in my thighs, sweating profusely, fatigue and the mental battle to keep pushing through those reps. Luke was as encouraging and motivating as ever despite how tough this workout was. I was determined not to give up, no matter how long it took me and it felt awesome finishing it. https://www.facebook.com/breakawayf...

On Thursday morning, I went to my Slow Flow yoga class with Keren Gurrieri at Now, Yoga. in Narre Warren South. I was in two minds about going to this class today but interestingly enough, active recovery through yoga stretches actually really helps with reducing muscle fatigue. And after my workout yesterday, I could feel the DOM’s in my thighs big time! I also hadn’t been to a class here in a few weeks so I gave myself a nudge and went. https://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-124...

It was a very small class this morning with only the three of us students but who cares? It made for an intimate and more one-on-one type yoga class. We ended up workshopping the flowing sequence from Downward Facing Dog, Plank, Chaturanga Dandasana (Four-Limbed Staff pose) and Upwards Facing Dog. There is a huge focus on upper body strength, controlled movement and body alignment. It takes a long time to master these poses but I could already see myself improving. https://www.yogajournal.com/poses/7...

The other part of the class involved hip opening and shoulder opening stretches. This included Warrior 2, High Lunge, Tree pose, Cat-Cow pose and Wide Legged Forward Fold. We also did a completed pose called Bird of Paradise which begins with a bind (one arm joining the other) from behind your leg, moving your feet close together and balancing on one foot. Very much one for all the contortionists and circus performers out there. I gave it a fair crack though and did okay with it. https://www.yogajournal.com/poses/b...

On Thursday afternoon, I caught up with my good friend Amy Amy at the Cat Cafe Melbourne. Unfortunately, it wasn’t exactly the smoothest journey for me as I had to deal with replacement buses from Narre Warren to Westall. Considering all the waiting around and stop-starting in peak hour traffic, I knew that I was going to be running late getting myself into the city. However, all of this was beyond my control.

My visit with Amy to the Cat Cafe was brief but worthwhile. A two-storey, chilled out playpen for rescue cats with plenty of towers, scratching poles, fur blankets and wooden blocks scattering around the room. The coffees and snack menu prices were all reasonable as well. And of course the cats were all beautiful to look at and pat. I had a great time catching up with Amy and it was good to unload some of the issues I’ve been experiencing in the last couple of weeks. I would highly recommend going to this cafe just to see the cats alone. Also make sure that you make a booking online as spaces for sessions are really limited. https://catcafemelbourne.com/

On Friday morning/afternoon, I went out to the city today with my parents for the AFL Grand Final parade in front of the Old Treasury Building in Melbourne. I still remember my first footy related moment. I was probably only 5 or 6 years old and my parents signed me up to the local Auskick at Jordanville Community Centre. Even then, I knew that I had no interest in playing footy and wasn’t “one of the boys”. In fact, just seeing one of the other boys flashing his bright blue mouthguard at me was enough to scare me off for life.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying though. My parents have always been passionate Richmond supporters since I was a young boy but I just felt so indifferent about it. Even at school, I wanted to keep as far away from the footy oval as possible for fear of being hit by the football (I had zero hand eye co-ordination back then and I also hated sports). But today, considering it’s been 37 years since Richmond have been in a grand final, I decided to get involved in the parade for the sake of my family.

We rocked up on black and yellow scarves, beanies, hats and jumpers and also brought along some flags and masks. We found a spot near the corner of Spring Street and Flinders Lane. The crowd was massive, appropriately 100,000 fans turned up apparently. The wait for the parade to start felt like an eternity and only lasted about 15 minutes or so. The people around me were well-behaved for the most part, despite a guy literally yelling out on my right side and nearly making me deaf. Otherwise, I enjoyed being a part of the parade and the Richmond supporters as a collective. GO TIGES!

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mastcomm · 4 years

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Your Wednesday Briefing – The New York Times

Trump’s Mideast peace plan favors Israel

Israel’s cabinet is set to vote this weekend on plans to unilaterally annex the strategically important Jordan River Valley and all Jewish settlements on the West Bank.

As coronavirus spreads, travel warnings pile up

Notably, the authorities in Hong Kong said they would suspend high-speed train services between the territory and the mainland, among other measures, starting on Thursday.

The science: Researchers are working on a coronavirus vaccine, but it’s a slow process. And we look at how bats, which could be the source of the outbreak, carry so many viruses.

Go deeper: The outbreak has blown up the Chinese Communist Party’s facade of a unified society, our columnist Li Yuan writes.

Opinion: Elisabeth Rosenthal, a former Times correspondent and emergency room physician, says that washing your hands is the best protection against the new coronavirus.

The move could jeopardize Mr. Johnson’s efforts to negotiate a new British-American trade deal after Britain formally leaves the European Union on Friday.

But Mr. Johnson’s show of independence played well with British commentators, and experts said he had calculated that the U.S. would not halt intelligence cooperation.

If you have 15 minutes, this is worth it

A giant tax heist

Now, a break from the news

Cook: Farro with crispy mushrooms and sour cream is similar in texture to a risotto, without the constant stirring.

Go: Momcations, a getaway designed for tired mothers, are on the rise. While some see it as profiteering, others say it’s a sign of “the mainstream telling moms they deserve a break.”

Smarter Living: Breaking up with a therapist can be nerve-racking. But doing it with these tips in mind can turn it into an opportunity for growth.

And now for the Back Story on …

Reporting in Wuhan

Chris Buckley, our chief China correspondent, is reporting this week from the city of Wuhan, the epicenter of the coronavirus outbreak. Mike spoke with Chris by phone.

What is it like with these unprecedented restrictions in place?

A lot of people wonder how long the shutdown can last. Even now people are worrying about the jobs they may lose, the businesses that will close, the school semesters that they might miss.

You’ve reported that the anger on Chinese social media is intense.

What else are you seeing there?

How does that compare to the response you normally get?

That’s it for this briefing. See you next time.

— Mike and Sarah

Thank you To Mark Josephson and Eleanor Stanford for the break from the news. You can reach the team at [email protected].

from WordPress https://mastcomm.com/your-wednesday-briefing-the-new-york-times-6/

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