#nine who prides himself in his independence yet wants company

[howcouldtheyletmebeanadult]

alright but hear me out:

#something something nine who had to learn to rely only in himself to survive #vs kit who was programed to live for someone else #nine who is a product of his past vs kit who doesnt have one #nine who made an identity for himself vs kit who had his stolen and remade #nine who doesn't belong with anyone (we all know he wont live with sonic) vs kit who is tied to surge #nine who prides himself in his independence yet wants company #and kit who both hates and yet is almost happy (but is it really him or the programing?) for what starline did #both want what tails has #both hate that they do. and hate him too #nine looking down on kit because of his dependency on surge yet feeling bitter because at least kit has someone #someone that needs HIM. not a duplicate of himself #and kit both fealing jealous of nine's independence and freedom #but then realizing how under all that he is just as desperate for love and friendship as he is #and then calls him out for it #nine is in denial. and claims he could never be as pathetic as kit #but deep down he knows its true #so anyway they hate the parts they can see of themselves on the other #but are also envious of other stuff #maybe one day i'll make a more coherent post because im pretty sure i thought of more stuff before but im tire #kit the fennec #kitsunami #kitsunami the fennec #nine the fox #tails nine #nine tails #miles nine prower #miles tails prower #tails the fox #sonic prime #sonic idw

[pinballwitxh]

THE SHADOW - CHAPTER ONE

summary: christine reid can only pick out a few happy memories from her childhood. most are filled with the struggles of their single, schizophrenic mother and her older, socially awkward brother trying to raise her on his own.

warnings: just a lot of sad childhood memories tbh, cursing, depressing thoughts

a/n: i’ve always loved the thought of spencer as an older brother and i hope you all enjoy this as well! it’ll get more happier as time progresses i PROMISE.

1 - CHRISTINE

APRIL 10, 1985

The Reid family had just gained a new member and Spencer was very excited to be an older brother. Instead of saying ‘goodnight’ to his mother’s stomach every evening he would now be able to say it to her face.

William Reid took his eldest son’s hand and walked him to the delivery room. Diana grinned when they entered the room and adjusted her hold on the swaddled newborn, waving her son over to her side. Immediately he lunged onto the bed and clung to her neck in a hug.

“Be careful, Spencer,” William reprimanded.

Diana smiled, “Oh, he’s fine, Bill.”

“What did you name her?” The wide-eyed four year old asked.

She hugged her son close, “Christine,”

The little boy grinned wildly and peered over her shoulder at the babe. She slept soundly, eyes closed with soft, little snores. He wanted to wake her up so badly and see her eyes; tell her he loved her and that he was so excited to show her his collection of state quarters.

Diana turned to him, “You’re a big brother, Spence!”

He giggled, “Can I hold her?”

“Not until you’re seated,” William said, “You have to be careful with babies.”

Spencer nodded slowly, “Okay, I can do that, daddy.”

Quickly he hopped off the hospital bed and clambered onto the couch next to it. William took Christine from Diana’s arms, a warm smile crossing his features as he looked down at her.

Spencer was nearly jumping out of his seat in anticipation when William brought her over. He shot Spencer a glare and he stopped swinging his legs immediately. Carefully he laid the baby in Spencer’s small lap, making sure both of his arms were around her securely.

“Now, don’t touch her face or anything, okay? Babies can get germs that they can’t handle,” he said sternly.

Spencer sat in silence, eyes studying her face very carefully. A small gasp escaped him as she opened her eyes, staring back at him. She shared the same eye color as him and it delighted him to no end. His mouth hung open in awe of her and Diana couldn’t help but start to cry.

William stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed, his hand finding his wife’s and giving it a delicate squeeze.

“Christine. . .” Spencer whispered.

Her tiny hands latched around his own small finger, squeezing tightly. Spencer smiled down at her, nearly bursting with excitement at the gesture.

“She loves you a lot already, Spence!” Diana squealed.

“Can I teach her how to play solitaire when we get home?”

William chuckled, “She’s not quite ready for that type of game yet, son.”

Spencer frowned, “Well, it’s not that hard. . .”

Diana sighed, “My smart boy, someday you can.”

Christine yawned and blinked her hazel eyes sleepily, but her hold on Spencer’s finger did not move. He slowly slipped his hand over hers and held it tightly, “Christy has the same color eyes as me, mommy!”

William turned to smile at his wife and placed a loving kiss on her cheek, “I’m really proud of you, Di.”

She leaned forward and kissed him deeply, “This is perfection.”

- - -

As Christine grew it was clear to the family that she was not intellectually gifted like Spencer. As a young toddler she was happy and loved to be outdoors digging in the dirt and climbing trees while her brother stayed inside reading or conducting science experiments. While he tried desperately to get her to participate in the activities he liked, she just didn’t care that much.

Not even Diana could interest her in reading children’s books that often. William spent as much time as he could teaching her how to play sports and encouraging the physical energy that she had so much of. He even let her “manage” the youth baseball team he coached for.

Not long after she turned six was when the arguments started. She would stay up late at night, huddled by her bedroom door listening to whatever bits of the arguments she could hear. Most of it was adult talk that she didn’t understand.

“I think mom and dad hate each other,”

Spencer day across from her by the door, “They won’t divorce, they can’t.”

“What does d-di, di-“

“Divorce,”

“Yeah, that, what does that mean?”

Spencer looked to the floor and hugged his knees to his chest, “It’s a legal dissolution of marriage.”

“What?” She asked with furrowed brows.

“When moms and dads decide not to live together anymore.” He whispered.

Christine’s eyes widened with tears and her bottom lip began to quiver, “Mommy and daddy are devicing?”

Spencer sighed, “Divorcing, and I didn’t say they were, Christy.”

“Do you think they will? Because they yell at each other?” She asked as tears began to trail down her cheeks.

Spencer hated it when Christine cried because it made him cry, too.

He looked away from her, “I don’t know,”

She threw herself onto him and wrapped her arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder violently. He jumped at the contact and tried to wriggle out of her hold.

He hated hugs. He hated touch.

“D-Don’t do that, Christy,” he pulled her off and gripped her shoulders, “I don’t like hugs.”

- - -

She was seven years old when William left.

Diana couldn’t take good care of herself, leaving Christine and Spencer to become independent children of their own.

Every morning he packed her lunch, made her breakfast, and made sure she got on the bus safely. Then he would walk himself to the high school and escape his chaotic life at home.

She made the basketball and softball team at school his senior year of high school (at age twelve.). He would wait at the school library for her practices to end and walk home with her. Oftentimes he sent her upstairs so he could check on his mother, never knowing what state she would be in when they got home.

Christine did not connect with her mother as much as Spencer did and to be honest, she missed their father more than anything. As the years went by he never sent birthday cards, never called and never stopped in to say hello.

Spencer and Diana had a bond that Christine wished she had. It seemed to her that their mother favored her older brother’s company instead of hers. She hated reading the boring literature she used to teach, she didn’t understand it nor cared to listen to it.

She hated the attention her prodigy-brother received. It was always about him and his wonderful intelligence. He won awards for nearly everything academic-related whereas Christine was just. . .average.

Spencer left for Cal Tech when Christine was nine years old.

For months he prepared her for a life on her own. He had personally written a book on how to handle people with their mother’s condition, which she was well-aware of by the time he graduated high school.

For most of her life they had taken care of themselves, mostly, and their mother.

She sobbed as he got in the taxi and left for the airport, her mother holding her close in the doorway. She realized that maybe she needed Spencer, maybe she did enjoy time with him.

Maybe she would really miss him.

“He’ll come back, Christine, I promise.”

“He promised he would come to some of my basketball games,” she sniffles.

Diana smiled down at her, “And I’ll be at every single one of them.”

- - -

Thirteen-year old Christine had learned to live without her older brother hovering around her constantly. She took herself to her practices and games, rarely letting her mother attend them due to her embarrassment of her.

She was an independent girl that knew how to take care of herself.

The team’s final games were approaching and her mother insisted she had to be there, though.

The first three games proved to be okay and Christine didn’t so much mind the fact that her mother was practically the cheerleader from the stands. In fact, it made her feel a little pride.

It was the semi-finals and the crowd was bigger than ever before. Christine found her mother in the crowd and something was very wrong.

Her face was pale and her eyes darted in every direction. It seemed she was shaking, but before she could say anything to her coach the buzzer sounded, signaling the start of the second quarter.

Once the buzzer sounded off for halftime was when she heard the frantic screams.

Diana fought her way through the crowded stands and tripped, her body tumbling down the bleachers. Parents and students gasped, stepping away from the screaming woman.

Christine watched from the court as her mother stood from her fall, desperately crying out for help.

A faculty member stepped forward to help her but was met with a slap in the face. Diana screamed and demanded that he not touch her.

Christine was mortified as parents held her back and eventually got her to the ground. She ran to the group of parents and tried to push her way through.

“Where’s Spencer?” She screamed at them, “You can’t keep him from me!”

It was a frenzy as the referees interfered, attempting to calm her down and calling for someone to get the police or medics.

Christine finally pushed through the parents and sat down in front of Diana, “Mom, look at me!”

Diana’s eyes were wild and unrecognizable, “Where’s Spencer?”

“He’s studying at Cal Tech, he’ll be back for Christmas break in two days.” Christine said calmly.

“You’re lying, aren’t you?” Diana shook her head, “How could you lie to me, Christine?”

She lungned at her daughter and tackled her to the ground, pinning her hands to her side as she screamed at her. Phlegm flew from her lips as she manically demanded answers from her daughter, who just lay on the floor in a daze.

It took effort to pry Diana off of her but when she did, Christine didn’t move.

She hates me.

I hate her.

And I hate Spencer.

Someone lifted her off the cold floor of the court, “Why don’t you go home, Christine, you need to be with your mom and call someone to help you.”

Like a robot she nodded her head and kept her eyes down as she walked to the locker room. She ignored the questions of her friends and coach, she couldn’t hear them through her reeling thoughts anyways.

She called Spencer from the hospital.

“Hey, Christy, is your game over already?”

“Spencer, i-it’s mom-“

“What happened?”

“She’s crazy!” Christine screamed as she left for the waiting room, “God she’s so embarrassing,”

“She isn’t crazy, Christine, you know that.”

“She freaked out at the game,” she sighed, “She hit someone, and she couldn’t remember where you were!”

There was silence on Spencer’s end.

“She called me a liar, Spencer, didn’t believe me when I told her you’d be coming home soon.” She winced at the pain from her bruised wrists, her mother could be violently aggressive during her episodes.

“Did you try the tactics I gave-“

“I did it all, but it didn’t work!”

“I’m coming home tomorrow,”

Christine laughed cynically, “Oh she’ll be absolutely thrilled that you’re coming back, her favorite child coming to save the day.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“All she ever talks about is you, it was all she could seem to think about during her freak-out. Not that I’m surprised,”

“I’m not her favorite child, Christine.”

“Bullshit,” she snarled, “It’s like I’m not even here, as if she enjoys coming to my games. She doesn’t even understand sports or care to learn about it!”

“Maybe if you spent more time with her she would!”

“I can’t because all she ever does is read from those ancient books that I do. Not. Get.”

“Sounds like you don’t understand the literature or care to learn about it, Christine.”

“Fuck off, Spencer! You know I’m not like you or mom and honestly I don’t care or want to be,” she screamed into the phone, “Don’t lecture me, okay?”

“You don’t understand mom, you never have and you’ve never taken the time to get to know her.”

“And I like it that way, she doesn’t understand me either.”

Spencer growled frustratedly, “She’s our mother! She’s sick, Christine, she needs you to be there for her and it sounds like you’re not doing a good job of it.”

“Of course I’m not, cause perfect you is the only thing she wants and I’m not good enough! I’ve never been good enough-“

“Don’t say that, you know that’s not true and that’s not what I meant-“

“I’ll see you later, Spencer. Mom’ll be overjoyed to see you.”

CHAPTER 2

THE MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

#criminal minds #spencer reid #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid sister

[honestsycrets]

No Thieves Welcome XVII: Lilies

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | houseshopping. funeral. something he probably shouldn’t have said but can’t take back now!

❛  warnings | drugs, drug use, depression, mention of death, mention of murder, nsfw, oral (female receiving), overbearing aslaug, jealousy

❛ sy’s notes | this chapter is super fucking long. smut is toward the bottom!

The next morning is tense.

Hvitserk had been looking for an apartment for some time. Something… nice. For his new, insta-family and you. You’re not particularly hard to please. Or at least, not compared to mother. Mother wouldn’t accept an uncustomizable apartment. No, no, no! She strides around the condo like she owns it. Your hand is tight in Hvitserk’s. Something has changed since the last time you met Aslaug-- and it’s not just your baby bump.

“We can the crib here.” Aslaug motions to a grey wall. She cups her cheek, holding her tiny pooch under her arm.

“Crib?” You say.

“Well yes, the boys should sleep together.” She informs you. “If they’re together in your womb, the gods want them to be together in their crib. A big one, white I think.”

Hvitserk’s puffy eyes are raw, incapable of dealing with the imbalance between his mother’s attitude and yours. She was, after all, the matriarch. He usually went with whatever she had to say. Now his bones were being crunched over your forceful grip-- and his mind kept wandering to the night before.

“But what of independence?” You ask.

“Who needs it?” Aslaug laughs, patting your belly without so much as consent. “My grandchildren will be just fine sleeping together.”

Thor--

“I thought we could have two.”

“You won’t say that when its two twenty-nine in the morning and you’ve just put one down.”

You blank. You know that it won’t be easy, not with two, but… you glance over to Hvitserk. A faux lily sits in a tall vase. You’re not sure what it is with the lily. Lately, he had been bringing two vases of flowers home. One for you, of course. But the other…

“It only has two bedrooms.” You note.

“Will you need more?” Aslaug asks. She has a point, you suppose. The twins can share a bedroom. You would be just across the open hallway. Unless you had the intention for another child and-- you glance over to Hvitserk’s face. He turns his head, red-rimmed eyes considering the thoughts that you were thinking.

“Yeah… uh. We can move if we have more.” He reasons. Aslaug claps her hands together, mumbling something about completing the paperwork to the condo. You let go of his hand, going to the double doors that lead out to a harbour. It… makes you anxious. But there were two doors. As Aslaug said, you could put a lock on it or improve on the security.

It’s a clear, beautiful day. Hvitserk listens to the door closing. The sound of his mother’s proud and loud voice over the phone practically riveting with the pride of becoming a grandmother. Hvitserk steps closer to you, his head fuzzy but intentions clear. He’s happy-- happy to be a father. Not yet, but soon. The sooner Thora’s funeral came, the better. He needs to close the trap on his dead best friend. You cup his hand.

“Are you okay?”

“As okay as I’m gonna be.” He says, nuzzling his head against the side of your neck. You reach out, opening the double doors. It looks like it’ll make a good place to raise a young family as… well, a mother. For all your proud studying, it would be on the back burner until the kids were in school.

“Are you sure we can afford this?” You ask.

“Mor doesn’t have any grandkids.” He explains. “She wants them happy.”

You don’t know the interworkings of his family. Something tells you, you don’t want to know them either.

--

Hvitserk wears a finely pressed suit the following week. Mother buys it from some upscale company and wastes his father’s money on a fancy name that he can’t pronounce. She buttons him into a suit with a sheening satin vest. The black-tie is tucked underneath the vest. She slides in a silver clip to keep his tie from becoming less than spectacular.

“If they ask anything,” Aslaug begins to button his suit jacket. Her slender fingers have a slight tremor.

“They won’t,” Hvitserk grasps his mother’s hand, leaning into her wavy reddish-brown hair. Her father was in too much grief to prolong Thora’s pain. There was nothing to do but bury her. “It’s a funeral.”

She knows. She knows there’s more to it than that. Ragnar and Bjorn know that too. Hvitserk slides a crisp roll of paper from behind his ear, digging in his pocket for a lighter. Aslaug’s hand tightens along his wrist to stop him.

“Hvitserk. You can’t smoke.”

“Why the fuck not?” He grumbles, jerking his wrist free with his lighter.

“You’ll smell,” she says. “Take a pill instead.”

He wanted to be in his right mind for this. To say goodbye to his best friend. But right now, being in the right mind looks fucking pointless. He rolls the metal wheel of his cigarette lighter out of anxiety. The fire plumes, burning his thumb because of how sloppy he was.

“Gimme a hit.”

Aslaug reaches back into her black designer handbag, finding a small baggie full of all the medications that made mommie’s day in that much better since they were children. He didn’t slip into the waters of Kattegat by accident, after all. She hands him a pill; Xanax. Attempts to give him another.

“Na,” he looks to the oak door. “I gotta go get (Y/N) with Ubbe.”

“She should come to get you.”

Aslaug is just worried. But Hvitserk, unscrewing the lid to his plastic bottle of booze, slumps into one of the chairs in his room. “She’s fuckin’ pregnant, Mor. Besides, Ubbe’s driving.”

“I’m only worried she might not be the one for you. I heard you the other night. Throwing things because she won’t say it to you.”

At least, not on your own accord. No ‘i love you.’ Maybe he was already in love before this even got so deep. Hvitserk looks down to the cigarette between his fingers. It’s going to be one of those kinds of days. One where he really can’t hide it but has to. Thora’s father needs him there.

“It’s uh--” an excuse, he needs one. “--daddie hormones.”

What the fuck is he saying?

Mother gives him that look. The softening of her eyes, the pull of her eyebrows together in sheer, pathetic pity. Hvitserk becomes mush against the chair, slouching under his need for this conversation to end. Aslaug reaches out to tighten his bun.

Clack! Clack! Hvitserk’s eyes pan toward the door.

“Can I come in? We have to go soon.” Ubbe pushes the door apart. It was never a real question, just a statement. Hvitserk shuns his mother away, stumbling to his bathroom.

“Yeah, we can hit the road.”

--

Everything was okay.

He has his woman on his arm, his babies under his hand. There are lilies everywhere. Big lilies. Little lilies. So many lilies. He likes lilies. He’s paced the chapel so many times, up and down, to see Thora in the dress her father and he chose. The ethereal one that she made by hand, stitching the butterfly sleeves herself.

“Sorry about your loss Hvit.”

He’s heard that so much that his ears are going numb. Ubbe stands behind him, expecting him to drop like the little opportunistic fuck that he was. He isn’t about to drop in front of Thora’s grieving father, who hadn’t left Thora’s side since this whole shit storm began.

“Do you need out?” You ask him, turning your head against his shoulder. You both sit on some plain bleachers. The thin cushioning is making his ass go numb. But god, you’re gorgeous. Hvitserk brings his fingers up to brush your lovely, pinky strand of hair away from your face.

“Na,” he whispers in your ear, but it's elevated enough that others can hear. “Coul’ use a blowjob tho.”

You look at him with that look. The one that said he wasn’t getting jackshit in this damn church. Your hand smoothes over his thigh, cupping inward and traveling up. His breath hitches and you lean in, your lips tickling his. “When we get home, I’ll fuck the sad out of you.”

He holds your gaze as his tongue courses over his upper lip, unusually moist. “I’ma hold you to tha,” the words come out sluggish.

“Sorry about your loss, Hvitserk.”

He recognizes the voice as belonging to that little waste of spunk, Magnus. He turns up his drowsy red-rimmed eyes, swaying in his seat.

“Na, you ain’.” Hvitserk accuses, “Stop lyin’.”

“Hvitserk.” You reprimand, elbowing him in his flat stomach. As opposed to Magnus’s usual duck down and out, he shoves his hands into his pocket.

“He’s right, (Y/N).” Magnus cuts you off. “I don’t mean it. Because I know he had something to do with it.”

“With her death? Magnus--”

“I loved her.” Hvitserk cuts off. Your head turns so quick, Ubbe swears it spun, twisting your head unnaturally to look at Hvitserk with an ‘excuse me?’ pending. You never say it though.

“I think you should go.” The voice belongs not to any of the young adults there. But an older man in his mid-forties. His eyes are red-rimmed and raw. Thora’s father turns his arms over one another.

“I’ll take him,” Ubbe grasps Magnus’s bicep, tugging him out of Hvitserk’s line of sight. Hvitserk slumps back in his chair and looks up to Thora’s father with eyes as guilty as the dog that stole the steak, but in his drug haze, it looks like nothing short of intense grief. Her father pats his shoulder.

“You okay son?”

He nods. “I’m okay.”

Then there’s a relief when his so-called ‘father’ leaves to speak to relatives. He doesn’t remember anything after that.

Hvitserk wakes up in his room. His head is pounding-- he looks to the minifridge in his room and debates just how much effort it would demand to go get some water. He slumps over the edge, huffing air to get his honey hair out of his eyes.

“You’re awake?”

Not entirely, but okay. Hvitserk flops around to look at you, wearing a pretty in pink slip with gorgeous white lace. That… yeah, that looks good. Hvitserk’s dick is acting up already, jolting up behind some shorts he doesn’t honestly remember putting on.

“Yeah, pretty baby.” He says in a sleepy haze, dragging himself over to your side of the bed. His hands trace your hips-- but he lets out a hiss when you smack them off of your hips. “What was that for?”

You don’t answer.

“Aw c’mon baby…” Hvitserk groans, slinking his muscled arm under your neck. All that work moving boxes had done his arms a world of good. He twists you back to face him, facing the wiggles to the very edge of the bed. “What’re you pouting about now?”

“You said you love her soo much.”

He blanks. He doesn’t know exactly what you’re talking about. The medicine had done a world of good-- and a world of ‘I don’t fucking remember my last name’ during the day. Does he even remember being a pallbearer? The answer, no.

“Uh.”

“Thora,” you spit out.

Shit. Hvitserk realizes that in that state-- there’s no telling what he probably blathered on about. In the presence of his… really, really pregnant baby mama. Not the best way to wake up. But hey, he could work himself out of it with the truth.

“Babe,” he says. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

There’s not enough Xanax in the world to deal with this shit. When he took it from his mother, he forgot one itty bitty, teeny weeny important detail. He was a man with an incredibly pregnant girlfriend. Then again, he didn’t really think you gave a rats ass about who he loved. It wasn’t like you were writing his name in notebooks or anything.

“Are we really doing this again?” Hvitserk slumps. He doesn’t mean to-- but for once, he doesn’t have the energy to deal with it. The fits are tiring.

“Doing what, again?” You peer over your shoulder.

“You’re jealous. Over her.”

“It tends to happen when you cheat on me for--”

Cheat? You broke up with him! He laughs at the sentiment, causing you to roll around. Your fist is a few inches short of his face when he catches it, twisting and pulling you down on top of his chest.

“Ha, gotcha!” He beams, a proud little joke behind his voice. “But for the record-- I’ve never cheated on you.”

“Stop lying. Precious pretty Thora and you--”

“You don’t understand.” He exhales, listening to you blather on about kissing or loving or… whatever the case was. How she was always his endgame which most the time Hvitserk couldn’t pick between almond cake or oven pancakes!

Exasperated, Hvitserk lurches to his night table. He knocks off a book, Hygge: Fatherly Parenting on the way to the knob. Pulling it open, he locates a worn down sketchbook.

“What are you doing?” You complain, irritated with his long stretching and fumbling around. He surfaces back into the bed with his notebook, flicking the pages open. He flicks past the tiny squirrels fisting little fat snacks in his mouth or the old lady who always brought him cinnamon cookies.

He settles upon a charcoal portrait of a young woman, her eyes bright despite the lack of colour. She whirls a piece of hair around her finger, laughing at the viewer with keen admiration. He’s outlined the portrait and now, he began to fill in the shading.

“Is that me?” You lean over.

“Yeah, who else?”

Thora, that’s who.

He suppresses another groan as to not have you actually say what was on your mind.If you did, you’d be sassing off in a minute. Instead, you take his sketchbook from his fingers and flip through the many pages. Past the portrait of you biting your pencil, smiling at him from the other side of old Harald’s table. Or the one where you were dancing, an elective class-- and he, admiring.

“Did you draw all of these?”

That’s not the important part. He shrugs his shoulders, bringing an arm behind his head. You’ve settled out of the rage enough to actually amuse him by cuddling close. His other hand cups your shoulder.

“Yeah, that ain’t the important part. The important part--”

“But they’re incredible. You should be an artist.”

“Tch.” Hvitserk scoffs. “I’m a Ragnarsson. Only shit I’m gonna do is oversea some goods on the dock.”

“But--”

“But that’s not important. What’s important are the dates.”

You flick back pages, running your fingers past old, smudgy dates. Many of the dates run such a time ago, you swore that Hvitserk was still dating… Thora. He had to be. While you do the math in your head, Hvitserk takes the sketchbook, whizzing it across the room like a flopping frisbee, pages making audibly ruffles in the air. That shit wasn’t gonna do crap for him. What artist made money? Unless they were dead. And he wasn’t planning on dying any time soon.

He had twins, a… family. Everything was waiting for him. That didn’t specifically include dying so, while he loved drawing like a second breath, his family’s health and wealth was more important than his happiness at work. Besides uncle Rollo was fun. It wasn’t the worst job on Midgard.

“You were… dating her.”

He nods, “Yeah. Was.”

“What changed?” You ask, settling back against him. This time, without that backsass. Shit was better. He doesn’t want to ruin a good thing going.

“Fell outta love I guess.” Hvitserk shrugs. “Or in it.”

“That’s--” your brain scrambles, reassembling pieces in his admission that is more than a passing ‘i love you’ during dinner as he grabs a chunk of rye bread and whizzes out the door to the docks. “--an obsession.”

Hvitserk scoffs. He shouldn’t be surprised.

“You call it an obsession. I call it love. I mean, is there a difference?”

“No,” you mutter. Maybe he knows better. You never had been in love before. For all the cheesy K-Dramas you made him feast, maybe-- maybe you should be more receptive to his love. What was love but watching crappy shows with someone you loved?

“But I…”

“But what?” He asks. What else? What else could he possibly do to reassure you?

“It’s just-- she’s dead.”

Yeah, that much was sure today. “What about it?”

“She can’t fuck up. What if I fuck up? What if I let one of the kids run into the harbour or--”

“Mother did that once.” Hvitserk realizes that you-- you don’t understand. You don’t understand a fucking thing about what he’s eluding to. “Trippin’ off fuckin’ Xanax every day that Ubbe and I got tired.”

“Tired?”

He ignores you this time. “Point is, ya can’t fuck up that bad. I mean, how bad can it be?”

Neither of you really know.

“Just seems like kids are for like-- married people, right?”

You don’t say. Hvitserk can’t hide his brewing excitement, lurching annoyingly again to his nightstand and fetching something for the second time in one night. He knows how much you hate it when he wiggles mid-cuddle, but he promises you its worth it. He fetches a small box, flicking the top open.

“Do ya wanna be?”

A more reasonable you would have said no, your relationship was too young. That it was founded on sex. That you were having babies! You couldn’t worry about the ramifications of a wedding or marriage or whatever-- did he just ask that? Did he just--

“Yes. Wait-- no, wait-- did you just?”

You look down. The ring-- the one from before. The one that the chubby man accused Hvitserk of being unable to afford. Clearly, he had. Somehow. You don’t know, you don’t even care, picking it out from the nesting of plush cushions. Hvitserk swipes it up, glimmering it with his fingers.

“It’s yours if you say yes.” Hvitserk grins, toothy and cheeky as he always was.

“Who said I was saying no?” You accuse, cheeks feeling suddenly hot. He wants to hear it-- that word. Those easy little words that would seal everything up for him. You pout momentarily, too embarrassed to focus on anything but the ring between his fingers and the promise behind them.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Hvitserk prompts. He’s milking it.

“I’ll marry you, Hvitserk. Stop smiling so much--”

“I can’t help it!” He laughs, “You’re mine!”

Easing the ring onto your finger, you feel his hand shaking. So unlike the boy you met, smooth and as collected as a Hvitserk could really be. Which wasn’t a whole bunch in his opinion but, yeah, it was something. It glimmers just like he thought it would.

“I wasn’t before?”

“I mean yeah but--” Hvitserk laughs, rolling over you. You push his chest, reminding him of his twins. Hvitserk steadies himself on his forearm. “Sorry, guys-- but really mine. All mine.”

“I was all yours before.”

Maybe you said it, but did you mean it before? Hvitserk doesn’t think so. But now, everything feels raw, and pulsing red, and-- real. Melodramatic as he was, it was real like it had never been before.

“Fuck,” there’s a lot of laughing. That’s how you know when the man is really happy. He dips down, dragging you over the bed to the edge. With a creak, he kneels on the floor.

“What are you doing,” you laugh back to him, bracing yourself for his usual favourite. When he was truly happy, he was eating. It’s only natural of course-- and fuck does he love easy access. You tug your blanket tight in your fingers as he lines up your thigh in small, growing hungry kisses. As you expect him to dig in, of course, he’d run away with a mean bite on either leg. The welts blossom under your skin, new with the old.

“Fuck Hvit-- ow!”

“Can’t let any other dick not know it’s mine,” Hvitserk rumbles. Dick like who? Dick like Magnus. Fuckin’ shit. With your short skirts, sometimes when you bent over the bites could be seen. He loved it when you would get questions. How did you manage that? Do you need some cream?

Fuck no, because at the end of the next day they’d be back.

He guides your legs over his broad shoulders. All that work at the docks helped his physique and you enjoyed it just as much if not more than before. He dips in, knowing for a fact that you don’t wear panties under slips. His nose nudges against your neatly kept pussy, gently inhaling. He’s such a dog.

“Hvitserk would you stop--”

He knows when he’s about to get booted. He relents, spreading you apart with his fingers. One smooth, broad and flat lick sends soft tickles up your spine and back down again with a second. Your breathing is always his first clue, smooth breaths picking up, quicker and hotter. He ceases his licks, suckling your folds near your entrance and dragging up-- toward your clit. It’s almost deliberate in the way that he avoids your clit, knowing exactly what might happen if he touched that pretty number.

“Hvit...” You whine, shoving his head closer to it. A quick orgasm is a useless orgasm to Hvitserk. He doesn’t just want you to get all you wanted, no, of course not. He wants it all. Hvitserk sways his tongue agonizingly slowly over your lips, twisting from one side to another all the way up to your clit. With one pang of a lick, your hips jolt up.

He drifts back down, drawing two of his fingers over the mess he’s made. Once his fingers are nicely wet, he prods your entrance. HIs mouth attaches to the side of your lips, enjoying your loud intake of air and the rush to expel it when his pace quickens. Finally, he allows himself to trace back up to your clit, experimentally darting his tongue out for a quick lick. Your abrupt jerking causes him to shift, pressing his lips against the button and sucking with force in time with the hot thrusts squelching inside your pussy.

It’s the ride he likes, bringing in the bud of your clit for a nice suckle always results in your hips undulating. Bringing him on a wild ride while his fingers fuck the juices out of you. When you cum, he doesn’t let you go for a second. Your juices flow down his knuckles, over the cold metal of the watch he had been wearing to the funeral.

“Fuck--” Hvitserk parts only when your hips slow down. “Who knew pregnant bitches made such a mess?”

Below your ass, you feel the sopping wet mess. You would have been ashamed if you were with anyone else. For Hvitserk, it's all apart of the ride. He suckles the remaining fluid off his finger, lapping away your mess between your legs.

“I don’t make messes…” you murmur, though it comes out as a pathetic whine. Hvitserk laughs, standing up with his thumbs caressing the waistband of his shorts. The material brushes down over his cock, already straining. He wraps his hand around the shaft as he steps out of his shorts, kicking them off into some other area of the room.

“C’mere,” Hvitserk says. Your legs fall open in offering, wiggling your hips closer. Hvitserk knows he’s not great at brilliant, romantic sex. He’s not going to delude himself into thinking that’ll be him either. Bending at the knees, Hvitserk hugs your legs to his chest. He slicks his dick in your slick, lip twitching into a smile when your hips shift. His eyes find yours, the only token of romantic concern he has. The rounded head of his cock teases your hole, teasing with a few faux pushes in before allowing himself to press inside. He slides inside with a playful thrust, slapping deep.

“Nnnh,” you whine, the complaint stretched out and loud. The others have probably heard-- Hvitserk pushing deeper, but slowly now until he’s ensconced.

“You look so--,” he soothes, pulling out a bit before thrusting back in. He braces himself into shallow thrusts, immediate and quick. His pace would slow, giving a deeply powerful one at the end of it all. “So-- good.”

Softly now, your hands trace your body. First, it’s something innocent. Trace your breasts, those wonderful titties Hvitserk loves to massage, dreams to fuck, and dies to sleep on midway in his shift at work. But then, your hands glide over his brood in your stomach. Two little ones, growing in his fiance’s womb now.

Bjorn didn’t tell him how that would feel. To see you full of him, so full and knocked up. No one could tell him of a hotter sight. His thrusts crack deep, holding your legs now over his elbows as he moves. He uses your legs like anchors, dragging them to you with every well-placed thrust.

“Ah-- fuck, Hvitserk.”

And his name-- off your tongue, it makes it even better. Hvitserk pants, pumping at a steady and brutal thrust into you. He cums, filling you deeply as he always had. As if it would make a difference now-- you were pregnant already! Hvitserk rides out his pleasure, pulling his cock out. Hvitserk kneels down, letting his fingers serve another purpose. They finger fuck you, nasty squelches of his cum and your excitement intermingling. Small kisses trace alone your thighs, trailing closer and closer.

Before he can get his lips back onto your cunt, you gush, spraying him with sweet pleasure. He’s soaked-- and he almost jolts back in his surprise. You feel as much you hear his low, pleased rumble. His fingers slide out as you calm down-- and he can’t deny that wide, cocky smile.

“You’re a mess.” You tell him, pouting so cutely that he knows he did a good job.

“A mess that made you a mess,” he returns, smiling wide and bright. If testament to anything-- the ring on your finger symbolized so much more than what the day started out to be. From grief to excitement, he knows Thora would have been happy for him. In the end, that happiness is all he wants--

And maybe. Just maybe, he can have it too.

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What to Expect From a Lawyer Alkmaar

Content

The Keys To Making Online Law College Effective.

Advocaten In Nederland, Alkmaar.

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Law College Professors.

Lawyers Workplace Appelman Alkmaar

Top Law Schools In The Us & Canada.

The kind of law degree a specific seeks depends mostly on what type of career they wish to have. Each kind of law level prepares the student for a specific kind of task, but each one likewise requires a various type and also quantity of training. Taken into consideration by several in the market to be "one of the top names in the profession from around the world," Wichai Thongtang is an effective lawyer in Thailand. Along with his law occupation, Thongtang is the Chairman of Cable Thai Holding PLC as well as possesses 15% of Dusit Medical, a Bangkok health care firm. Along with her law career, she is the largest female shareholder on the Nairobi Stock Market, which is where a great little her total assets comes from.

At first, it might appear like virtually every single time you are appointed a job, it's something that you've never done before. When you've developed a suitable base of abilities, the anxiety must decrease after a pair years. Do you have the soaring goal of coming to be a managing companion in a law office? Accomplishing this goal is not a very easy one as well as will certainly call for long hours as well as a large quantity of effort.

Possibly following year, the adjustment will broaden as well as we will see deepers results of the transforming face of the Dutch lawful landscape," state a representative of the Association of Lawyers. In 2002, Silver Circle law office Herbert Smith, Gleiss Lutz and Stibbe created a tripartite alliance. In November 2011, Gleiss Lutz as well as Stibbe voted versus a merger with Herbert Smith.

The Biglaw Investor is assisting thousands of lawyers handle as well as remove trainee fundings and also make excellent investment choices. We're on an objective to aid every lawyer achieve economic independence.

Rather they are happy to have work and clear up investing decisions. When those choices go uncontrolled, gradually as their salary increases, it will certainly be too late for them to create a strategy until they remain in their very early 50s and also beginning to seriously consider retired life. All of us know that stable and sluggish victories the race, so lawyers must more than stood for in the rankings of millionaires, right? Not according to the job performed in The Millionaire Next Door which secured lawyers at just 8% of the nation's complete millionaires.

Certain, there are lots of very well-off lawyers, however that's actually just the leading layer of the profession. Law college can be exceptionally expensive, so believe meticulously before saddling on your own with heavy financial obligation, as well as only become a lawyer if you in fact intend to function as a lawyer. I didn't take several notes in college or law school, but as a lawyer, I take notes on whatever, whether it's a five-minute phone meeting or a day-long conference.

It's hard to bear in mind each and every single vital detail when you are managing numerous matters, as well as sometimes an issue will resurface months or even years after the last time it seemed relevant. Lawyering in reality seldom resembles what is shown in films as well as TV shows. The majority of lawyers are not in court delivering skyrocketing speeches before courts each week. You might have simply finished law institution, yet you know nothing.

The Keys To Making Online Law College Successful.

How much does the average lawyer make in Australia?

How much does a Lawyer make in Australia?CityAverage salaryLawyer in Sydney NSW 111 salaries$114,643 per yearLawyer in Melbourne VIC 135 salaries$108,637 per yearLawyer in Brisbane QLD 48 salaries$107,459 per yearLawyer in Perth WA 37 salaries$99,556 per year1 more row•5 days ago

When the general populace believes of lawyers the very first point that typically comes to mind is personal injury as well as plaintiff work, I always forget that. There's no much better decision than to NOT end up being a lawyer or doctor if you do not intend to do it.

In a lot of industrialized nations, the legislature has actually provided initial territory over extremely technological matters to executive branch management firms which oversee such points. Consequently, some lawyers have become specialists in management law. In a few nations, there is a special category of jurists with a syndicate over this kind of campaigning for; for instance, France previously had conseils juridiques. In other countries, like the USA, lawyers have actually been properly disallowed by statute from particular types of management hearings in order to preserve their informality.

Be cautious, however-- these BigLaw, partner-track positions can trigger exhaustion as well as other mental health concerns. While you were in law college, did you find that you liked the academics of law, the theory and the teaching of law? Law teachers function steadier hrs than lawyers, most of the times, however the competition is intense. They are handsomely awarded for their effort, also-- the typical salary for a law teacher is $128,000 with the high end getting to $194,000.

Some countries need an official apprenticeship with a skilled professional, while others do not. In the United States, the estates of the dead have to typically be provided by a court through probate. American lawyers have a successful syndicate on dispensing advice concerning probate law. The department of such job amongst lawyers, accredited non-lawyer jurists/agents, and also normal clerks or scriveners varies greatly from one country to the next.

What are lawyers called in Canada?

Common law lawyers in Canada are formally and properly called "barristers and solicitors", but should not be referred to as "attorneys", since that term has a different meaning in Canadian usage, being a person appointed under a power of attorney.

Advocaten In Nederland, Alkmaar.

A graduate of the UCLA School of Law, John Branca has actually had a lengthy profession as a home entertainment and corporate lawyer with a concentrate on standing for rock and roll acts and also independent capitalists. He has represented more than 30 participants of the Rock-and-roll Hall of Popularity and also gets on pretty much every checklist of premier entertainment lawyers worldwide.

Which type of surgeon earns the most?

The highest earners — orthopedic surgeons and radiologists — were the same as last year, followed by cardiologists who earned $314,000 and anesthesiologists who made $309,000. The lowest earning doctors are the family guys. Pediatricians and family practitioners make about $156,000 and $158,000, respectively.

Outside the class, Ginsburg invested a significant part of her legal profession as an advocate for gender equality and women's civil liberties. She won numerous triumphes suggesting prior to the Supreme Court, volunteering as a lawyer for the American Civil Liberties Union in the 1970's. Court of Appeals for the Area of Columbia Circuit in 1980, where she offered until her appointment to the Supreme Court by Head Of State Expense Clinton in 1993. The workplace culture of the Big Four is likewise a source of pride. For example, all 4 of the Big Four are placed in Lot of money magazine's 2015 checklist of the 100 Best Places to Work.

A lot of his lot of money was gained by representing substantial corporations, such as Xerox and also American Express, along with spending quality time as Wall Road banker. Given that opening their doors in 1882 Sparke Helmore law practice has come a long way, with nine workplaces open throughout Australia and over 950 staff members. They cover five areas of law including commercial and also company, commercial insurance policy, government, statutory lines of insurance and also work environment law. Johnson, Winter and Slattery are a company who work as lawful guidance for prominent Australian and International corporations in organisation tasks, conflicts as well as hard purchases.

What we share is deep-rooted neighborhood expertise as well as networks, a spirit of collaboration and also the drive to go beyond customer assumptions. We believe that clients today are seeking a legal adviser who is likewise a long-lasting organisation companion.

Law levels are marketed as a degree that you can use for anything, which is true. But when you remain in institution the cost of college does not weigh as long as when you are really paying for it. When I graduated from grad college, I assumed I would be so abundant. While I live conveniently and also have what I want and need, I'm no Paris Hilton or Donald Trump.

The WLG in their name is stylized from their founding company, Gowlings as well as Wragge Lawrence Graham & Co . Participate in among these universities and you're likely to get an excellent law level education. Clients emphasize that the team is "readily smart, recognizing what is important and what isn't," and also include that the lawyers "assume along with you on industrial agreements." " The lawyers can really manage a big workload and they always supply. They are actually nice individuals to work with and it is a genuine teamwork, they involve you in what they are doing." Wherever customers operate, we provide legal advice that is practically superb, commercially minded and customized to the scenario available.

covers personal financing, financial independence, spending as well as various other things for lawyers that makes you better. A practicing personal equity M&A lawyer and also the maker of Biglaw Capitalist, Josh couldn't find a location where lawyers were speaking about cash, so he created it himself. He spends 10 mins a month on Personal Capital monitoring his money and also is currently rejuvenating PeerStreet to find new real estate crowdfunding deals. However yet I'm still perplexed regarding what I view as an absence of abundant lawyers? I've emailed to and fro with a few of you as well as plan a collection of meetings to be released in the future (after all, we can all learn from how they've done it).

A popular champ for ladies's legal rights both in as well as out of the court, Gloria Allred is among the most prominent and famous females in the legal career today. In her four years in method, she has stood for a huge selection of clients in unwanted sexual advances, wrongful termination, women's rights, as well as employment discrimination situations. As the first High court Justice of Hispanic descent, in addition to the first Latina, selected to the bench, Sonya Sotomayor has actually damaged many barriers for females lawyers. Upon her graduation from Yale Law in 1979, she worked as an aide district lawyer in New York for four-and-a-half years prior to getting in personal practice in 1984.

Please note that all seminars are kept in Dutch unless specified or else. Our customers take advantage of our global reach and also scalability. We are generally identified market leaders in business purchases, financial & resources markets, administration & governing as well as disputes. Allen & Overy is a worldwide lawful experiment roughly 5,500 individuals, including some 550 partners, operating in greater than 40 offices worldwide.

When seeking a law office, you will require to see to it that it is trustworthy.

This is specifically what you need if you require aid with conflicts or specific Job problems connected to employment.

The most effective law office will certainly have labour law lawyers Alkmaar all set to make sure that these issues do not swallow you.

This is since not every one of these Alkmaar law practice might supply you with the experience, revitalizing, and also proactive lawful advice in addition to litigation.

In addition, lawyers are twice as most likely to experience addiction to alcohol and various other medicines. Public suspect of lawyers got to record heights in the USA after the Watergate detraction. In the results of Watergate, legal self-help books became prominent among those who wished to solve their lawful issues without needing to handle lawyers.

I'm mosting likely to discover the abundant lawyers and also highlight them on this blog site. I rejoice you brought up problems, due to the fact that it goes to the heart of my argument as well as problem. Lawyers created the very policies that tie us down and I wonder why that's the case. It's the similar issue I have with the partnership design where non-lawyers can not have equity in a law office.

Meg, I have not seen any of that information but I might be able to locate it, although what I 'd search for is for all lawyers typically. I wish to know just how I compare to my peers in BigLaw, however I haven't had the ability to discover this data anywhere. Makes me question if lawyers traditionally have actually been self-employed but just recently moved right into a W2 employee structure similar to what's happening to physicians currently.

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Who Is World's Best Lawyer?

1. Jerry Brown:Xi Jinping: Mr. Megyn has worked at some of the biggest law firms in the World. John is a former Secretary of State of the United States of America and a Boston College Law alumni. The man who has been labelled as the most powerful person in the World ranks number 9 on our list. More items•

In Germany, mandatory charge frameworks have actually made it possible for widespread implementation of inexpensive lawful expense insurance coverage. Lawyers working straight on the pay-roll of corporations, nonprofits, and federal governments usually make a normal yearly wage. Typically such work was executed in behalf of the inadequate, but in some countries it has actually currently broadened to numerous various other reasons such as the environment.

On a side note, he acts as the co-executor of Michael Jackson's estate. Best known for his daytime court reveal that competed 15 years, Judge Joe Brown received his law degree from UCLA. In 2014, he competed district attorney general in Shelby Region, but shed to the incumbent. Born in 1935, Jordan has enjoyed a long law profession that began after his college graduation from Howard University.

Law School Professors.

When beginning a company of when contracts require to be prepared, they are commonly necessary consultants. While this sort of task isn't flashy like a test lawyer, tax lawyers still bring in a respectable paycheck-- the mean pay is $99,000, while some make as long as $189,000 every year. Trial lawyers are the ones you see on tv and also on the silver screen-- they stand in courts and also argue instances before discretionary. There are less trial lawyers than there are law graduates that want to do this task, so competitors is usually strong. There is a decent payment for those who are successful, though-- the average pay for a trial lawyer is $120,000 annually, which some making upwards of $215,000.

When as well as where it matters most, our understanding of Dutch law combined within the latest deal structures means clients obtain the finest suggestions. The series networks our office's expertise into a program that provides clients lawful support in today's rapidly-evolving markets. The subjects covered include fads in M&A, financial and resources markets, administration & governing as well as disputes. The seminars are open to all get in touches with and clients as well as occur on the first Tuesday of the month from 8.00 to 10.00 am.

Lawyer jokes additionally soared in popularity in English-speaking The United States and Canada as an outcome of Watergate. In 1989, American lawful self-help author Nolo Press published a 171-page collection of negative narratives concerning lawyers from throughout human background. In some nations, like France and also Italy, lawyers have also formed profession unions. In contrast, common law lawyers have typically controlled themselves through institutions where the impact of non-lawyers, if any kind of, was weak and also indirect. The job structure of lawyers varies widely from one country to the next.

Judges are the lawyers that make decisions concerning situations in trial court. Normally, advocaat alkmaar takes years of experience and also potentially an election as well as political election process to come to be a judge in the United States, but that differs by state. Judges are normally generously compensated for their job-- the typical income is $130,000, with some making as much as $177,000 each year. Tax obligation attorneys deal with both businesses as well as individuals to address tax problems, help with estate preparation, or taking legal action against the IRS.

They operate in a large variety of markets consisting of aged care and also retirement, education and learning, monetary services, food and agriculture, government services, infrastructure and also more. Presently, they hold more than 430 staff members as well as 51 companions throughout their Brisbane, Sydney, Melbourne and Newcastle workplaces. The company's operations in Canada use lawful solutions in locations such as work and also labor, copyright, general company law, as well as lawsuits. The company is noted for its toughness in advising on banking decisions, company disagreements, company technique licenses, worldwide mediation, and also realty.

Numerous lawyers and lawyers stop working to be clear and also clear of legal charges. Some lawyers will be able to provide a taken care of charge for an agreed quantity of job. Unlike other lawyers, criminal lawyers usually have a high degree of know-how in court appearance skills since they routinely appear in court for criminal cases. Some lawyers technique throughout all or most locations of law, consisting of residential or commercial property, household law, commercial law, website traffic as well as criminal law. The majority of people recognize that coming to be a lawyer requires years of university to gain a law degree, but many individuals don't recognize there are numerous kinds of law degrees.

Beginning in 1993 the firm has wasted no time in increasing throughout Australia, with four offices opening up in Sydney, Melbourne, Perth and Brisbane over seven years-- an exceptional achievement. McCullough Robertson is a leading Australian independent law office.

Aspiring lawyers typically need to pass the bar test in their future state of method. Passing prices for bench exam drop as reduced as 40% in some states, so solid prep work is vital.

Yet some client's stories are extremely depressing, very distressing, as well as downright gloomy. The head of state is supported by the Prime Minister's Office. The prime minister also picks the ministers that make up the Cupboard. The two teams, with the authority of the Parliament of Canada, handle the Federal government of Canada.

This doesn't put on every lawyer, however numerous lawyers are exposed to trauma. As I pointed out above, customers never pertain to us with satisfied news.

In today's world, lawful danger management is an essential part of running a company, going well past disputes as well as purchases. We use our knowledge and experience to aid our customers reduce risks as well as browse the pitfalls, on bargain and also off offer. " Altogether, the top 50 gives a typical image of the leading segment of the Dutch law landscape; it is either growing or losing terrain. The largest workplaces all increased in dimension, while re-positioning and restructuring is taking hold of the center market segment.

Therefore, it shouldn't be difficult for a lot of lawyers to become millionaires. I also think several lawyers aren't in the millionaire camp since they do not start with plans to end up being millionaires.

Top Law Schools In The United States & Canada.

Do you like the concept of operating in business of altering laws for the betterment of a whole state or nation? While a law level isn't an essential need to enter politics, it has commonly been seen as one of the most usual route recently. Members of Congress earn $174,000 per year, and some higher positions within Congress generate $194,000 every year. Alison Monahan discussed legal jobs for The Balance Careers. She is a lawyer and also founder of The Lady's Guide to Law Institution.

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Sean Hannity's new book makes the case for more Trump - Los Angeles Times

Sean Hannity is the most-watched personality on cable news. But a conversation with him quickly reminds you that his roots are in radio, which he still does three hours a day. Like an old-school top 40 disc jockey, the conservative host can play the hits (“Russia Collusion Hoax,””Trump Derangement Syndrome,” “The Deep State”) on repeat, with unflagging enthusiasm.

Hannity has been at Fox News since it first launched in 1996. But it’s only recently that he’s become the network’s biggest star, outlasting its first breakout host, Bill O’Reilly, and delivering 55% more viewers than Megyn Kelly had in the high-profile 9 p.m. Eastern time slot when she left in 2017. He has largely kept his distance from the company’s internal scandals, although he was named last week in a sexual harassment lawsuit alleging that he offered staffers cash to take out a “beautiful” guest. (When I asked about the suit, Hannity pointed me to Fox News, which said the claims were “false, patently frivolous and utterly devoid of any merit.”)

Hannity has come to rule Fox during the Trump administration, and he’s earned a reputation for being the president’s chief media defender and reportedly an informal advisor as well. Hannity’s unfettered advocacy for the president is memorialized in a new book out Tuesday, ominously titled “Live Free Or Die: America (and the World) on the Brink.” Signed copies of the manifesto for a second Trump term are being offered by the re-election campaign as a fund-raising incentive for donations over $75. A representative for publisher Simon & Schuster said the Republican National Committee purchased the books through retailers.

The tome argues that a victory for Joe Biden and the Democrats in November would “move the country wholesale into socialism and authoritarianism.” Hannity makes a cogent argument for Trump’s economic policies before the COVID-19 pandemic hit. A chapter defending the president’s handling of the public health crisis resulting in more than 150,000 fatalities from the virus is a far tougher sell. Hannity, 58, talked about the book and his place in the media landscape in a phone conversation Wednesday.

The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

The book presents a very clear ideological contrast between Republicans and Democrats in the presidential election. It represents the kind of campaign that some of Trump’s advisors want him to run, and which he’s reportedly resisted. Are you trying to send a message with this book?

(Laughs) No. Even though I’m on the air four hours a day, I wanted to go in depth so people had a full understanding at what is at stake 97 days from now. [The book contains] a history of radicalism, what makes the country great, the Democrats’ 2020 agenda, and then it’s followed up purposely by chapter four, which is socialism and the history of its failure. You’re talking about the biggest choice election in our lifetime. … I never thought Joe Biden would go this far radical left. I’d argue it’s out of weakness that Joe Biden had to embrace Bolshevik Bernie‘s (Sanders) economic agenda, and even plagiarize it — which he has a history of — and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s insane new green deal. He’s pledging trillions of dollars to this.

As former White House press secretary Ari Fleischer has said many times on your show, voters are not going to really be able to process any of that until President Trump has the coronavirus under control. You have a chapter in this book that presents the president’s response to the health crisis as a success.

Correct.

Every poll says the public does not agree with that view by a large margin.

Ninty-nine percent of the media — I call them the “mob,” as you know — I don’t think they’re particularly fond of the president. If Donald Trump cured cancer they would hate him. Everything we now know about what they put this country through with Russia and Trump-Russia collusion has all been disproven. Has anybody on any of these networks ever said they’re sorry that they lied or that they spewed conspiracy theories and one hoax after another?

Live Free or Die: America (and the World) on the Brink

(Threshold Books)

I’m not sure what that has to do with the coronavirus and his response to it.

I’m explaining that they’re never going to give him credit. It doesn’t matter. Listen, we had the largest, fastest medical mobilization in the history of mankind. And Donald Trump got that done. China lied to the world. Every medical expert, they were trying their best. I don’t fault them, but they got it wrong. Every model was wrong. Every bit of information everybody had was wrong. And we’re all adjusting on the fly. But we got every ventilator, he built the beds in the New York at the Javits Center, he sent the Navy ships in. He even manned those hospitals. He provided all the PPE for those hospitals. He converted them to COVID-19 capability.

Couldn’t he have saved more people by not making a political issue out of wearing a mask? He prides himself on what he achieved in the economy. Who would’ve had more authority than President Trump to say, “You know what? I’ve got to put this great economic recovery on pause because we have to really nail this pandemic first.”

We shut the country down. [Ed. note: As early as April, Trump called for the economy to be reopened against the advice of the government’s medical experts.] Look, listen, I am not a party to this group of people that are criticizing Dr. Anthony Fauci.

Do you think Dr. Fauci misled the country? That’s what the president said.

Well, no, but he got a lot wrong. I mean, that’s a fair analysis. He’s telling people in the middle of March if you’re young and healthy it’s OK to go on a cruise ship. He was not a big mask advocate in March either.

If Barack Obama were in charge during a pandemic that killed 150,000 people, wouldn’t you have been on his case every single night?

OK. If Joe Biden was president would he have instituted the travel ban? Did those policies save American lives, the ones that Biden said were “hysterical, xenophobia, and fear-mongering”? Did Donald Trump make the right call on the travel ban, yes or no?

Let’s say yes. You still have 150,000 people dying.

Joe Biden wouldn’t have made the call. The Democrats were impeaching. [Trump] was working, they were impeaching. They didn’t get involved in this, and now they’re Monday-morning quarterbacks.

You present a strong argument against socialist regimes and express concern about those ideas seeping into the Democratic platform. But didn’t Democratic primary voters effectively repudiate socialism by choosing Biden over Bernie Sanders?

Well, we never really got to finish it. I think the deck was stacked against poor Bernie. … We know that Joe Biden now has adopted the socialist policies of Bolshevik Bernie; he’s even plagiarized them.

The Democrats won back Congress in 2018 largely through the election of more moderate representatives in swing districts won by Trump. Wouldn’t they put a check on a lot of what you’re talking about?

Absolutely not … have you read the Green New Deal? Those promises are impossible to fulfill. If you’re going to get rid of oil and gas on top of it — the way Joe is pledging to stop fracking, and oil exploration — number one, you’re going to lose tens of millions of career jobs. Donald Trump made us energy-independent for the first time in 75 years, the largest oil producer in the world in over 75 years. We’re going to give up the lifeblood of the world’s economy and we’re going to promise to tax people into oblivion and we’re going to promise everybody everything’s free and the government’s going to take care of everything you need in life, from the minute you’re born until the day you die.

You don’t think climate change is an issue?

I believe that we need to be good stewards of the beautiful planet God gave every man, woman, and child on Earth, absolutely. Is Sean Hannity in favor of new creative sources of energy, clean energy? Absolutely. Do I think one day we’ll get there? I do. I believe in science, and I believe in ingenuity, especially when people live free. But we’re not there yet. Right now the lifeblood of the world’s economy is oil, gas, and coal, fact.

I want to talk about Fox News.

I’m sorry, you’re breaking up on me. I’m kidding, go ahead.

You have an opinion show, but you use words on your program like “investigation.” You say you have reporters covering stories. Define for me how you see the difference between what you do and what Bret Baier does on “Special Report.”

I have no comments about any other show on Fox. I have my hour I’m responsible for, and that’s it. I’m too busy in my day to follow what everybody else is doing. I watch very little cable news, to be very blunt with you … So I would argue Sean Hannity is a talk show host. And I can produce hours and hours and hours of radio and TV of just straight news reporting. I can produce thousands of hours of Sean Hannity doing investigative reporting. I have a responsibility to put on news, information, opinion that you’re not going to get anywhere else and investigative reporting … I am basically an entire newspaper.

Has Fox News changed since its founding chief executive, Roger Ailes, left in 2016? [Ailes, who was ousted over sexual harassment allegations, died in 2017.]

I think [Fox News Media Chief Executive] Suzanne Scott is phenomenal in her job. The Murdochs have been nothing but supportive. I like to view myself as a good partner to whoever I’m in business with.

Tell me about your relationship with President Trump. How often do you talk to him?

Wouldn’t you like to know the answer to that? It’s interesting to me. I mean, there’s so much speculation. There’s been so much written about it.

Here is your chance to set the record straight.

You want a headline out of this. I got it. But I’ve known Donald Trump now, I guess, 25 years. I think he’s the most transparent politician and honest politician I’ve seen in our lifetime. Nothing he does surprises me. Listen, if I talk to anybody like you I neither confirm nor deny I talk to anybody. If I have friends and I talk to my friends, it’s nobody’s business. If I have sources and I talk to sources, it’s nobody’s business.

But clearly your role has changed. You’re an influencer in this country. You have a hotline to the most powerful man in the world who probably relies on you as a friend.

You’re just assuming I have a hotline to the president of the United States. I find it amusing, but I’m going to allow the speculation to continue.

You were upset over the Minneapolis police killing of George Floyd. You called for a ban on police using chokeholds. But how do you feel about the Black Lives Matter movement? Do you think there is systemic racism in police departments in this country? Can you understand the anger behind this moment the nation is having?

The George Floyd incident angers me on a level that words can’t express. if you don’t feel that and see that this can’t happen ever again in America you don’t have a heart and you don’t have a soul. This can never happen again … I always said about the Deep State — I made a distinction almost every night about 99% of good FBI and intelligence agents, not the 1%. I [say] the same thing about police. We now have nearly 2,000 cops injured, we have about a dozen or more dead. We see rocks, and bottles, and bricks, and Molotov cocktails hurled at them. I make a distinction very clearly between Black Lives Matter the group — and the people that have righteous indignation and are calling for justice and changes after what should never happen to any human being on Earth. There were plenty of peaceful protesters, and I stated it over and over again. But now what we’re seeing in Seattle and Portland and New York City and Chicago is that none of this is about George Floyd. What unfortunately it is — you’re looking at a preview of coming attractions.

What we’re looking at is happening under President Trump. Why hasn’t he said anything to unite the country and quell some of this?

Excuse me. All Donald Trump has done is protect — which he legally has the constitutional authority and obligation to do — the federal buildings. He’s offered every one of these cities and mayors, liberal ones, all the help he can muster. They’ve got to ask for it. They’re saying, “Stay away.” And he’s saying, “Please let us help you. We can restore order.” But they have to ask…. The one thing these cities have in common, they’ve been run by liberal Democrats for decades.

But there’s been record-low crime in America for the last couple of decades under these same mayors and governors. What’s the difference?

Oh, really? Because during Obama and Biden’s years, president and vice president, I think I was the only one on national TV to actually scroll the names of thousands shot and thousands dead, and they barely mentioned Chicago.

Do you ever hear anything from the president that make you say, “Man, I wish he had not said that?”

Yeah, I’ve said it publicly a lot — I wish he’d tweet five to 10% less, or retweet never. But I would also add that this — there’s never been a president that has been made for a moment like him. You compare Biden-Obama’s record against Donald Trump’s record — I’ll take that bet every day. I don’t know what’s going to happen in 97 days, but I’ll tell you this, it would be probably the greatest moment in the history of watching the mob and the media, your friends that you interview a lot, have to choke on the words, “We can now project that Donald J. Trump has been re-elected the 45th president of the United States.”

What does “Hannity” look like under a Joe Biden presidency?

I’ll do what I always do — I’ll advocate for the country I love. I will fight for the principles I believe in. I will do the work that the mob and the media will never do. That’s what I do.

#Uncategorized

[hah-studios]

Pleasant Company

A snippet of an old story I had written. I have always been a nut for fantasy and dragons so I’d thought I’d show off some of my original writing.

Lyra wondered if this wouldn’t be happening if she had been a more obedient servant, less talkative and independent. Maybe then they’d be feeding some other servant girl to the dragon.

           But being fed to a fire-breathing beast wasn’t the first unfortunate thing that had ever happened to her. The first real tragedy she ever faced was when she was seven, a little rebellious child with messy red hair who quite suddenly lost her father. Her mother had died giving birth to her so she was raised by her older brother Alfric, and their father who also happened to be the mayor. Despite never knowing her mother those seven years had been the best of Lyra’s life, while the other children in the village of Nor had to work and do chores, she and her brother learned to read and write and be pampered by the mayor’s servants. She had had no idea that these people only took care of her for the money, but the day her father died and his subordinate Thriggers, took the position as mayor she soon learned. The bloated man turned her and her brother into his indentured servants, telling them they’d have to work off all the money they cost being children who had to be fed and taken care of. Alfric constantly told her Thriggers was a liar whenever they were alone, but Lyra didn’t need to be told, she knew, she understand the world was incredibly cruel. But as she spent the next nine years milking cows, chopping wood, washing clothes and whatever else she was told to do she was still thankful, as least she still had Alfric, her only friend and family. The village people had locked him in a cellar to keep him from trying to rescue her and ruin the sacrifice.

The dragon had started terrorizing the village about a month ago, Lyra had been helping tending to the fields when a sudden shadow blocked out the sun, she heard screaming and looked up in time to see wings and claws before the beast lunged down and swiped up two of the village’s sheep and leaving a trail of fire in the wheat. The creature continued to pay them visits, stealing livestock and burning either their fields or a building, so far no one had been killed or seriously injured by Thriggers continually said it was only a matter of time. After a month Thriggers’ friend Brock, the slimy advisor Alfric always told Lyra to stay away from came up with a “brilliant plan”. People who were pestered by dragons always solved the problem with a maiden sacrifice.

Naturally Thriggers’ spoiled daughters were out of question, and all the other girls whose family flattered Thriggers, which led to the servants. And he decided on the one who didn’t call him mayor, who dared to look him in the eye and tell him she couldn’t cook an entire pig in a matter of seconds no matter how hungry he was, the servant who was the daughter of the man he had longed to replace.

Of course Lyra had put up a good fight at first, until Alfric tried to save her and got a nasty blow to the head by one of the larger farmers. Frightened for her brother she said she’d go with no qualms if they just left her brother alone. They agreed to it quite easily, Alfric was a strong young man and a good hunter; he was much more useful than his sister in their eyes. So they locked him in the cellar, tied Lyra on a stake and were now carrying the stake to the mountainous terrain where they knew the dragon resided. Lyra thought of how cowardly the men in the Nor village were, instead of coming together and simply slaying the dragon they’d rather sacrifice a young girl on the off chance the dragon would leave them alone.

Something told Lyra the dragon wouldn’t be that flattered by the gift, but as long as this kept Alfric safe, at least for a little while, it was worth it.

Hopefully I’ll fill the beast up for a few days and Alfric can just escape, he had always talked about leaving when I was strong enough.

           Finally reaching the designated spot they stuck the stake into a clump of dirt to hold Lyra upright, her eyes scanned the clouds and rocks but there was no sign of the dragon.

“You remember your promise,” she called to them as the men quickly left, “You don’t hurt my brother!”

But the men were already gone and Lyra was there alone, waiting quietly for death. She felt a little pride for taking this so well, though she had never expected she’d die a human sacrifice. Wanting to distract herself from the inevitable and how terrible Nor was she thought back to when her father was alive, to when her life was happy. Her father always held her and Alfric in his lap when he wasn’t working, telling them stories about the land of Espar where Nor was just one of the millions of villages on the great continent. There were really large villages called cities, and even places called kingdoms where kings and queens lived. There were also other creatures besides humans in Espar, elves, dwarves, griffins, dragons and more, (though he had said dragons had vanished to their kingdom and hadn’t been seen in years, Lyra almost wished she could tell him wrong). She had always desired to leave Nor, even when her life was good, to go and explore and meet all these incredible creatures. But she’d die just meeting one.

           The sudden sound of wings made her heart nearly stop, the fear she had kept subdued rising in her throat making her unable to breath. She closed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the dragon. Was it hovered over her right now? Would it snap her up without a sound? Would it burn her first before swallowing her whole? Her father had said they could talk to other creatures, would it mock her fear before ending her?

She heard the heavy thud as the dragon landed and heard its claws scraping against the rock. Tears started to leak from her close eye-lids, she wished she had had a chance to tell Alfric how much she loved him, she wished the stupid dragon would just hurry and get it over with.

Suddenly Lyra fell to the ground as the rope tying her to the stake was cut; she opened her eyes in shock, for half a second wondering if some dashing prince had come to save her like in the stories.

But no, before her was the dragon, it’s scales were a dark gold, its amber eyes stared down at her, the horns decorated its jaw and behind its ears giving it a threatening appearance, its mouth was barely an inch from her. As it slowly opening its jaws, revealing rows of sharp teeth she covered her head and waited for death.

“Are you a human or a hedgehog?”

Lyra’s eyes popped open at the unexpected question, where had that rumbling voice come from? She dared to peek through frizzy strands of hair to see the terrifying beast still leering over her uncomfortably close. But it made no move to attack her.

Instead it stared at her quizzically, curiously, she realized its eyes were green with hints of amber, and its scales were a deep gold that was actually quite beautiful.

Feeling slightly braver with the dragon simply watching her she sat up, her muscles still tensed, ready to jump and run. But she had to wonder… “What did you say?”

The dragon’s ears pulled back against its skull and for a moment Lyra feared it was a hostile action, but then it turned its face away and appeared to be…nervous?

Then her eyes bulged when the dragon opened its mouth and spoke, “It-it’s a joke. Because your hair…it’s all curly and tangled, it reminds me of a hedgehog. I haven’t seen one of them in these mountains yet but I saw pictures in our scrolls so…” He trailed off awkwardly.

Lyra couldn’t think of anything to say, not only was this dragon not eating her but it was making a joke, it was the last thing she had expected and it made no sense from what she’d been told as a child listening to old tales about the dragons.

The dragon seemed to be uncomfortable with the awkward silence, moving away it stood up and shuffled its feet much like a human would do. It only made Lyra even more confused.

           “I am Hylvan,” the dragon finally spoke, turning his eyes on her, now that he talked and introduced himself Lyra suspected she might as well call him a male which he clearly was.

But that didn’t mean she’d treat him like a friend. “Aren’t you going to kill me?”

This Hylvan looked shocked at such a thought, “Why in the name of Dragonale would I do that? What have you done to deserve me slicing you open?”

She swallowed, at least she knew his choice method; she gave his long dark talons a wary glance, “Because…you’re a dragon.”

“Yes,” Hylvan said, like it didn’t answer any question, “And you’re a human female who looks to be half-hedgehog.” He bared his long white fangs in what could have been a grin then made a sound that could have been a snicker.

Lyra gave the dragon an exasperated look; he truly was the farthest thing she had expected even a good dragon to be like. “I am your maiden sacrifice,” she replied, “You were supposed to eat me and leave Nor in peace.”

Hylvan scrunched his long muzzle at her, giving her a look between pity and disbelief, “Why would I do that?”

“Because that’s what dragons’ do-” she began but was cut off when he waved his long, rather strong looking tail.

“No, I mean why would I leave Nor alone after having you as a sacrifice? I assume you’re talking about my stealing your livestock, I am sorry about that but I must eat. But, honestly, why would having you as a sacrifice stop me from doing that?”

Lyra opened her mouth to answer, and then realized she didn’t have a good reply. “Um…because you would be overwhelmed by gratitude and would want to show such by leaving the village alone,” she offered awkwardly.

Hylvan threw his head back and made a harsh, vibrating sound that made Lyra’s bones rattle, and cover her ears, she assumed he was laughing.

“That is ridiculous,” he finally said, still chuckling, “I’m sorry, miss. But even if I was grateful for them giving you to me, the fact is as a living sentient creature I need to eat. While I’m not saying you wouldn’t be tasty, the fact is you’re awfully gangly and skinny, you wouldn’t be a mouthful. So even if I did eat you I would still be hungry and therefore go and find more satisfying, fatter food. And even if this Nor gave me their fattest villager I would still be hungry eventually no matter what.”

He laughed again and shook his head, “You humans and your eccentricities.”

Lyra blinked, feeling slightly like an idiot for thinking she would be saving her brother from starvation or dragon fire via this idea. But she also couldn’t help a wave of relief that made her shoulders droop. “So, you won’t eat me?”

Hylvan shook his head, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Thank you,” she replied humbly. She would live…she would live…

           “Well, now that that rather awkward misunderstanding is behind us, may I ask the fair lady’s name?”

Hylvan laid down before her, making himself comfortable and Lyra allowed a small smile to grace her lips, now that the threat of being digested was gone she thought Hylvan to be a charming dragon, albeit a slightly scatter-brained one.

“My name is Lyra Giltbrook,” she answered.

“That’s a pretty name,” he said politely, resting his head on his crossed forelegs. “If you don’t mind more questions Miss Lyra… Why were they sacrificing you?”

She furrowed her brow in confusion, “I told you, because you were eating the livestock.”

“But why you specifically,” he explained, “Was it the luck of a draw? Did you volunteer?”

She cast her eyes downward and shook her head, “No, it wasn’t a luck of a draw and I didn’t volunteer. I was chosen.”

“Why,” Hylvan asked quietly.

“Because the only person in that village whose ever truly loved me was my brother,” she couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her tone, “Even my old nursemaid shunned me after my father, who was mayor, died and that awful Thriggers came to power.”

“What happened to you and your brother then?”

“We became servants, having to do whatever we were told, even had to do the work of some of the lazier servants. Apparently my father was more hated than the village let on and chose to make his children suffer.” Lyra had no idea why she was telling a dragon her life story, but she realized that she needed to get it out. She needed to tell someone.

“That is truly awful,” Hylvan murmured with sympathy, “Did your mother do nothing?”

“Oh, she died when I was born,” Lyra said, turning away, “It was a long time ago.”

She started when she felt Hylvan’s heavy claws on her lap but then realized it was supposed to be a comforting gesture. For some reason it drove her to tears and she clutched the claw between her hands, so happy to find a kind soul that wasn’t her brother, so happy to have told her story to someone who would offer his sympathy.

           “You’ve truly had a hard life, Miss Lyra,” Hylvan breathed pityingly, “I’m sorry.”

She wiped her tears away and smiled at the dragon, “I’m sorry too, here I was expecting the worst and you are the kindest soul I’ve met in a long, long time.”

Hylvan pulled his scaly lips back in a dragonish smile, “I just haven’t had the pleasure of company in a while.”

She tilted her head, “Why’s that? Don’t you have friends and family?”

Hylvan flinched at those words and pulled away, standing up and walking a few paces away, “No, no I don’t.”

A wave of guilt instantly crushed her, “I-I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have said anything!”

He turned his broad head to look down at her, his green eyes twinkling with assurance, “It’s fine, you were more than willingly to tell me your story…however, I am not ready to share my own.”

“That’s fine,” she quickly replied, “You don’t have to.”

Hylvan gave her a look of gratitude before lifting his snout up and surveying the sky that Lyra only now realized was getting darker, the villagers had waited before bringing her here.

“It will be night soon,” he said then turned back to her, his ears perked as he gave her a curious look. “What are you plans?”

“My plans,” she echoed in confusion.

“Since I’m not going to eat you, will you return to your brother? Or perhaps go and find a new home elsewhere?”

Lyra stood up, dusting off her faded blue dress before turning to look where the villagers had vanished, a part of her longed to go back to her brother, to assure him she was alive and well. But another part feared what the village would do if she came back, would they try again? Would they chance using her brother as a sacrifice instead despite him not being a maiden, despite he was more useful than her? Perhaps she should leave to start a new life; perhaps she could go to the capital city, Lorus. Alfric had spoken of going there, they could sneak away together and not have to worry about Thriggers, or Brock, or Nor ever again.

           Hylvan’s voice, now at a much quieter volume, broke her from her thoughts, “You’re free to spend the night with me if you wish.”

She turned to him in surprise only to see him looking anywhere but at her, he looked, dare she say it, downright bashful and it brought a smile to her lips. “Is that alright? Spending the night with you? I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

Hylvan’s ears perked up merrily at her words and he lifted his head, “Of course! I told you before I hadn’t had the pleasure of company in a long time. You can stay as long as you wish.”

Her smile grew brighter and she nodded, “Then I accept your invitation. Where do you sleep?”

With his tail the dragon pointed upward, her eyes following Lyra spotted the hole of a cave in the large rocky mountain. She gulped; there was no way she could climb that.

Hylvan must have read her thoughts, stepping forward he extended a foreleg to her, palm up, “I can carry you.”

She looked at his claws warily, she realized it wasn’t fear of the dragon hurting her that made her hesitate, rather her fear of being up so high.  But Hylvan looked at her with such earnestness with a mixture of the shyness she had seen earlier. This great fire-breathing beast that stole sheep only wanted a friend, someone to talk to, he wanted the same thing Lyra had wanted for a long time.

           Steeling herself she nodded and Hylvan picked her up, holding her to his chest. She immediately grasped at the smooth, tan scales of his chest and held her breath as her heart started thumping.

With one flap of his wings Hylvan was airborne and Lyra left her stomach on the ground as he quickly ascended and arrived at the entrance of his cave in almost no time. But despite the quick trip Lyra’s legs still wobbled as he placed her down and lead her inside. She followed after; not wanting to be left on the precarious ledge, inside the cave was warm and dim. She noticed a small pool of water, secluded in a corner, continuing deeper into the cave she saw a pile of bones and swallowed, despite herself she checked for a human skull or two, but to her relief there were only those of cows and sheep.

           At the back of the cave Hylvan had made a large bed of what looked to be uncomfortable rocks, but lying next to the pile was a heap of sheep wool.

“Sheep’s wool is pleasant to the touch,” Hylvan explained, catching her looking at the heap. He was sitting beside her, apparently anxious to see how she liked his home.

“Then why don’t you use it for your own bed,” she asked curiously.

Hylvan wrinkled his nose, “On a humid day rain is pleasant too, doesn’t mean I want to sleep underwater.”

She chuckled at the dragon’s logic, “Yes, I suppose your right. This cave is cozy, did you build it?”

Hylvan shook his head and walked over to a secluded corner, “I found it; I imagine it was another dragon’s home years ago but he’s long gone now.”

Lyra vaguely recalled a village elder mentioning that Hylvan wasn’t the first dragon to ever terrorize Nor.

Hylvan returned with a crisply burnt animal hanging from his jaws and Lyra recognized it as one of the sheep that had been taken a few days ago.

“Are you hungry,” the dragon asked around the mouthful of meat.

Lyra nodded, “Yes, I’m famished actually.”

           Hylvan placed the sheep down and started to carve it into pieces, “Didn’t they feed you in that village?”

“Yes,” Lyra replied, eagerly taking a piece of roasted sheep and taking a bite, it was a bit charred but to her it tasted heavenly, “But only the rich could feast on whole animal, servants were just giving small offerings.”

“No one starved at my home,” Hylvan said as he too started chewing on his own piece of meat, “Groups of us went out and collected livestock to return home, true the ones of higher rank had first pick but we always made sure no one was without.”

Lyra had started listening with baited breath as soon as Hylvan had uttered “home” she was starving to hear more about dragons and their homes. But Hylvan apparently had noticed he had started talking about his home, and didn’t continue, instead changing the topic. “Do you think you will go back for your brother? I personally don’t think you should go back and live in that village but perhaps you and your brother could go somewhere new?”

Lyra stared down at her piece of meat, “Alfric and I had always talked about leaving the village, of going to Lorus and finding jobs, of making our own lives… But I don’t think that’ll happen.”

“…You two could stay with me,” Hylvan offered quietly.

Lyra smiled gratefully at him, “That’s not what I meant. I mean maybe it’s best if he thinks I’m dead. Then there’ll be nothing tethering him to Nor; he can go and have the life he deserves.”

“Do you really find yourself such a burden,” Hylvan asked, starting to chew on a bone.

Lyra didn’t answer.

           After they had finished their meal Lyra asked, “How did you find this place, Hylvan?”

The dragon had been busy breathing fire over his rock bed to warm it; he turned to her when she asked this, smoke rising from his nostrils.

“How did you find this cave,” she prompted.

“It was actually the strangest thing,” he said, sitting up and his eyes cast upward in memory, “There was something…some kind of feeling. That told me I needed to come here, I couldn’t ignore it. And I still feel it, it’s almost as if…there’s something here. Something I need to find.”

“I often got the same feeling from this mountain,” she admitted, looking around the cave as if the answer to the strange feeling was hiding in the cracks of the walls.

Hylvan pulled his scaly lips back in a smile, “That I’m not crazy, I’m glad.” A sudden yawn overtook the dragon as he stretched his large jaws wide; revealing his sharp, white teeth and a pink, forked tongue.

“I think it’s time to turn in,” he decided, “I’ve heard that you humans like to sleep on soft things, feel free to make a bed of the wool.”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully, walking over and fixing herself a spot as Hylvan used his tail to sweep the remains of their meal into his bone pile.

“If you need anything please ask,” Hylvan replied as he started to turn circles around his bed of heated rocks, reminding Lyra of a dog. “You can drink from the pool if you get thirsty.”

“Yes, thank you,” Lyra said, curling up into the wool that was warm from being so close to Hylvan’s own bed. “You’ve been very kind.”

“It was no trouble,” Hylvan replied, his voice bashful. “Good night Miss Lyra.”

“Just Lyra,” she replied.

“Alright, goodnight Just Lyra,” the dragon chortled in his rumbling way.

She chuckled, “Good night to you too, Hylvan. Sweet dreams.”

She heard the rocks shift as the dragon finally lay down with a huff, after a few minutes she heard the rumbling sound of his snoring and she smiled to herself as her eyes grew heavy, Hylvan truly was nothing like she expected.

#dragons #orginal work #hah studios #snippet #pleasant company #fantasy writing

[k-v-emrys-blog]

Barrio Biz

#1: Face Meet Fist (A.K.A. Reality)

Teresa was the Montana Family's pride and joy.

Daughter of immigrants from an inner city high school that went on to an ivy league on a full ride scholarship - it made the news! Okay, it was just the local 50-cent paper, but it still counted! Her mom still had the clippings, and she was sure her old teachers still used her as an example as what hard work and perseverance can get you no matter where you start.

... The only real problem was what came after.

Nobody ever discussed what happened after the Cinderella Story came true. The screen always faded to black after the underdog won the championship. It's always assumed that blessings just rain down upon them for the rest of eternity.

Reality, however, is never so kind.

~*~

The first time she got rejected by a job opportunity was fine. She had no connections and it wasn't like she was the best or anything. Magna Cum Laude, sure, but she knew there were kid geniuses and legacies vying for the same position at the prestigious Plantagenet Corporation, so she didn't mind it so much. It was a long shot, she knew, and she'd be okay at a smaller company or a non-profit for a few years to get some experience.

Except it kept happening.

Over and over, e-mail after e-mail. Rejection after rejection.

By the time the third month rolled around and the local library refused to give her so much as an intern docent position, she was furious!

"It's a conspiracy!" She hissed to her older brother, glaring at the latest rejection projected on the laptop in front of her.

"Yup, a terminator came from the future just to keep you from getting a job." Felipe drawled, eyes never leaving the soccer game on the TV, "You're probably gonna build an ark or something to save humanity."

Teresa was not amused. "I want to go into public interest design, not ship-building!" It had been years spent trying to explain her goals to her family, who didn't care for anything that didn't assure food on their table.

"Whatever." And it was years getting the same response.

She threw a throw pillow at his head, which he promptly ignored, and opened her browser to look for jobs. They were thinning out considerably as summer approached, most of the positions filled in months ago. Maybe she was just stubborn. Maybe it was too much to ask to actually use the degree she had spent four years, and a small breakdown, earning. There was honor in fast food service amongst the Little Havana community. It kept food on the table when your family needed it most.

She just DIDN'T WANT TO!

After years of being told to do better, how could the adults in her life just expect her to accept the status quo? She had been infused with pride and a loathing for minimum wage jobs since she was a little girl. Since her father raised her up on "I didn't cross a river and a desert for you to grow up and work wiping somebody's ass." Since her teachers told her "Stay in school, a good education is the first step to a brighter future." Since her mother told her "Work hard so you never have to depend on anybody else."

She didn't want to believe those were all just lies.

She scrolled and scrolled until she saw an opening in an office for a personal assistant. Well, at least it wasn't minimum wage, and she more than met the qualifications. Well, why not?

Application number 49, she thought morosely, here we go.

~*~

Florida weather had never been kind and it didn't lend itself to looking good for an interview. Teresa was only glad she hadn't inherited her mother's curls like Felipe and Elisa; she would look like Hermione Granger (the frizzy-haired, first year kind) by the time she stepped off the bus if that was the case. Unless the interviewer was a Potterhead, she doubted they would appreciate it. As it was, her nicest outfit was a beige pencil skirt and a white long-sleeved top. She hoped she remembered to keep her arms down so they wouldn't notice the sweat stains.  

She almost cried when she realized the interview would be at a picnic table outside, the interviewer explaining that the office was being remodeled. They were expanding, hence the need for a personal assistant.

She thought everything was going well until he said the words, "You have a very impressive résumé." She'd had twenty-nine interviews. She knew that recruiters never directly complimented prospective employees so that they wouldn't ask for a higher wage. This was how they let you down gently.

~*~

Elisa laughed and laughed and laughed.

Teresa was a great big joke to her older sister. Elisa had slacked off in high school, she had barely graduated and completely ignored college. Instead, she went straight to work. First as a secretary at a dentist's office, and then as a cashier at the grocery store, and then as a movie theater usher. She flit from job to job, not caring about the future, and living paycheck to paycheck. She was everything everyone had warned Teresa not to be.

And yet she was the one with the job!

Life was totally unfair. Teresa was starting to regret her decision to abscond from the party life. She may be a dead beat, but at least she would have enjoyed her life. Instead, she was a twenty-two year old loser with no job, no prospects, and barely any friends.

"If you're that desperate for a job, I could recommend you for one." Elisa finally said.

"I have absolutely no interest in working a kiosk at the beach." Teresa deadpanned. She also had no interest in working with Elisa, but she couldn't say that out loud. Their mother would have a fit.

"Not that job," She rolled her eyes, "That's a nine-to-five, and I don't want to spend that much time with you. I'm talking about my weekend job."

Teresa ignored the jab and instead asked, "How many jobs do you have?"

~*~

It was frighteningly easy to get an interview. All Elisa did was send her boss a text - baby sis needs a job. Can you help? - and two days later she found herself in front of an old tenement building. A polished laminated plastic sign reading PenguinTix hung in the front beside the old fading numbers and yellowing fritanga flyers. She was in the same outfit as her last interview, but she suddenly felt overdressed somehow. The feeling only increased as she stepped inside.

The office was small. Maybe two rooms and a bathroom, one large plastic table surrounded by creaky chairs in the main room. The paint on the walls was cracking and the only person in the room didn't seem much older than her. When he introduced himself as "Julio, the boss," the feeling almost overwhelmed her. Still, she tried not to show it as she sat on one of the creaky chairs and the interview began.

It was going really well, until he said, "How good are you at keeping secrets?"

She could only stare, "... I'm sorry?"

"You know, like if you saw something that you weren't supposed to see. Could we trust you?" He winked at her in a way that she supposed was meant to be secretive. It only looked ridiculous, and all she could think of was how to make a quick and safe escape. What had Elisa gotten her into? What was Elisa involved in?!

She heard herself stutter some ridiculous excuse, as Julio only stared. Until... he burst out laughing. She quickly shut her mouth, worried that he was deranged, but he wasn't laughing maliciously. It was as if it was all just a big joke.

Finally, he spoke, "Sorry, sorry. It's just a hazing ritual."

It took a few seconds for the words to fully register, and when they did, she couldn't help the outraged, "What?"

"You're already hired!" He was still chuckling, "We don't even do interviews. We just like to tease the newbies."  

She stared and stared and stared, but Julio didn't seem to care. He just kept smiling until he shook her hand and told her he would e-mail her soon for the first event. She was already halfway to the bus stop when the reality of the situation sunk into her mind.

Ticket Representative was to be her official title. PenguinTix was a small, independent company that helped publicize and sell tickets for local, small, independent events. She'd basically be a cashier if she was lucky. After four years in a university, AP classes and dual-enrollment in high school, sacrificing her social life so that she could finish in four years instead of the projected six, and generally feeling like hell more often than not, this was what she had come to. This was what all her hard work had amounted to.

All she could think was: This is really happening!

#Barrio Biz #original fiction #my writing #series