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fatehbaz · 4 years

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Sources for thousands of Detroit residents without water access for years; Detroit lead poisoning; history of how Nestle conquered Michigan water; and how Flint residents pay the state more in utility fees in a single month for water access in a single household than Nestle pays the state in an entire year to extract 130 million gallons of water.

A response to this:

I hope these sources might help.

Just for geographic context:

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Nestle, which earns over $7 billion in annual bottled water sales, pays a once-a-year $200 administrative fee to extract over 130 million gallons of water from Evart, while people are poisoned and die in nearby Flint, where a single months’ water utility bill is over $200.

[Source: Jessica Glenza. “Nestle pays $200 a year to bottle water near Flint -- where water is undrinkable.” The Guardian. 29 September 2017.]

Flint became synonymous with lead-poisoned water after government officials, looking to save money, switched the city’s water supply from Detroit city water to water from the corrosive Flint river. Once the city had switched, the number of children with elevated lead exposure doubled; residents reported unexplained rashes and losing hair. An unpublished study recently found fetal deaths in Flint increased by 58% during the crisis. [...] Despite having endured lead-laden tap water for years, Flint pays some of the highest water rates in the US. Several residents cited bills upwards of $200 per month for tap water they refuse to touch. But just two hours away, in the tiny town of Evart, creeks lined by wildflowers run with clear water. The town is so small, the fairground, McDonald’s, high school and church are all within a block. But in a town of only 1,503 people, there are a dozen wells pumping water from the underground aquifer. This is where the beverage giant Nestle pumps almost 100,000 times what an average Michigan resident uses into plastic bottles that are sold all over the Midwest for around $1. To use this natural resource, Nestle pays $200 per year. Now, Nestle wants more Michigan water. In a recent permit application, the company asked to pump 210 million gallons per year from Evart, a 60% increase, and for no more than it pays today. [...] In a state where officials denied Flint’s water was poisoned with lead; where Detroit residents choose between heat and water; where the water-borne, pneumonia-like legionnaire’s disease killed a dozen; and where gastrointestinal bugs spread among residents who lacked (or didn’t trust) water, Nestle’s request seemed like salt on a wound.

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While thousands in Detroit have no water access, even people with water access have high rates of lead poisoning; in one Detroit zip code in 2017, 22% of tested children exhibited lead poisoning.

[Source: Karen Bouffard and Christine MacDonal. “Detroit kids’ lead poisoning rates higher than Flint.” The Detroit News. 14 November 2017.]

Detroit had Michigan’s highest proportion of children test positive for lead poisoning in 2016 — 8.8 percent of kids tested — including one ZIP code where 22 percent were found to have lead poisoning. Data from the Michigan Department of Health and Human Services show children are being sickened by lead in counties from Manistee to Hillsdale and St. Clair, though the rates of lead poisoning in Flint continue to improve.

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In 2020, Michigan institutions and judges continue to allow Nestle to pay minor administrative fee of $200 per each water extraction facility, as Nestle extracts over half a million gallons every single day from single individual wells (ie: just one annual fee of $200 for the Evart well).

[Source: Garret Ellison. “Nestle wins legal challenge to Michigan groundwater extraction.” MLive. 28 April 2020.]

A state administrative judge has upheld a permit that allows global food and beverage giant Nestle to boost the amount of Michigan groundwater it extracts for sale under the Ice Mountain bottled water brand. In a decision dated April 24 [2020], Judge Dan Pulter ruled that Nestle’s plans to withdrawal 576,000 gallons of groundwater per day from the headwaters of two cold water trout streams in Osceola County will not negatively impact the surrounding natural resources. Concerns were raised about potential impacts to Muskegon River watershed and the tiny $200 annual paperwork fee Nestle pays per facility to extract millions of gallons of Michigan groundwater to sell for profit. [...] Much of the broader opposition was from those upset that Nestle could source groundwater at essentially no cost while people in Flint were drinking water contaminated by bacteria and lead, and low-income residents of Detroit were having their taps shut off for non-payment.

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Nestle pumped over 2.5 billion gallons from a Mescota County well; Nestle has now pumped over 1 billion gallons from the Evart wells; the Osceola well now supplies millions of gallons a year.

[Source: Garret Ellison. “Nestle in Michigan: Unpacking the water battle backstory.” MLive. 26 December 2016. Updated 20 May 2019.]

Nestle made a deal [...] to drill four high-capacity wells at their 600-acre private hunting preserve in Morton Township [...]. The water is pumped 12 miles west to Stanwood. [...] The Sanctuary wells pumped more than 2.5 billion gallons between 2005 and 2015. [...] Nestle pumped at 400 gallons-per-minute until Mecosta County Judge Lawrence Root ordered it stopped in 2003 [...]. When Judge Root ordered the pumping stopped, Nestle looked north for another supply. The company found a willing partner in the city of Evart, which has sold Nestle more than 905 million gallons of Twin Creek spring water [...]. Evart wells have accounted for roughly a quarter of Nestle's total Michigan supply since 2005, but in 2014 Nestle discovered traces of perchlorate in its water. The toxic chemical, which is linked to thyroid problems in women and children, came from the Evart well field, which became contaminated with decades of Fourth of July fireworks ash. [...] When Nestle shut down one of its Evart wells because of the pollution, it looked to offset the capacity loss by increasing the pumping rate of an older well it owns in Osceola Township, [...] Nestle did not really use it much until 2011. Since then, the well has supplied more than 45 million gallons. Almost 70 percent of that total volume was pumped in 2015 alone.

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To gain uninhibited access to water extraction sites, Nestle merges with local government institutions and deliberately targets rural, isolated, or “economically-depressed” communities.

[Source: Franklin Frederick. “Nestle: Multinationals as the New Colonial Powers. A tale of Many Cities.” Defend Democracy Press. 22 December 2019.]

In 2002 Nestle hired John Hedley, an ex-MI6 agent – British military intelligence – as Head of Security. Among other things, Hedley was responsible for organizing an operation to spy on civil society groups critical to Nestle in Switzerland, mainly the ATTAC group. When this operation was unveiled by a Swiss investigative journalist that denounced it in the Swiss TV, Nestle had to face a court case and was condemned by the Swiss justice for it. In Wellington County, Nestle Waters Canada has permission to extract 4.7 million litres of water a day in wells at Hillsburgh and Aberfoyle and according to Mike Balkwill from Wellington Water Watchers, “the company has applied to renew those permits, while it extracts water without the consent of Six Nations, on whose territory it operates, and despite public opposition from several indigenous organizations.” [...] The situation is the same in Florida where although the local water authority considers that the water system is in recovery from over-exploitation, Nestle still wants to pump water from Ginnie Springs. The common pattern emerging from these and other cases – in the State of Michigan or in the small city of Sao Lourenco in Brazil – also shows that [...] in many places Nestle “merges” with the local authorities, as in Maine where a Nestle manager was on the State’s environmental protection agency board [...]. Recently, the ex-Nestle’s Head of Public Affairs, Christian Frutiger, was appointed Vice-Director of the Swiss Agency for Development and Cooperation – SDC, the Swiss Government Agency responsible for Development Aid programmes – where he will be responsible for SDC’s Global WATER program! [...]

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The source of America’s corporate water crisis can be traced back to 1976 when Perrier, now owned by Nestle, opened an office in New York. By 2016, bottled water sales had surpassed soda as the largest US beverage category [...]. Nestle Waters’ 2018 worldwide sales exceeded $7.8 billion. [...] Ultimately, the debate’s particulars lead back to a question at the heart of the issues: should water be commodified and sold by private industry, or is it a basic human right? Former Nestle chief executive and chariman Peter Brabeck labeled the latter viewpoint “extreme” and called water a “grocery product” that should “have market value.” He later amended that, arguing 25 liters of water daily is a “human right,” but water used [for purposes other than drinking, bathing, etc.] shouldn’t be free. [Source: Tom Perkins. “The fight to stop Nestle from taking America’s water to sell in plastic bottles.” The Guardian. 29 October 2019.]

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Tens of thousands of Detroit residents have been without water access since 2014; Detroit water contaminated with giardia, shigellosis, lead; Detroit administrators refused until the pandemic to even declare the water shutoffs a “public health issue,” and Michigan officials blame poor people for spending money on “luxury cell phones” instead of their water utility bills.

[Source: Nina Misuraca Ignaczak. “Detroit Water Shutoffs and a Crisis of Public Health.” Belt Magazine. 9 March 2020.]

The water crisis in Detroit began in earnest in 2014, during the city’s bankruptcy proceedings, when the DWSD abruptly shut off water service to tens of thousands of Detroit residents for nonpayment. [...] But activists have been fighting for years to get the city to recognize water shutoffs as a matter of public health. [...] Since the start, Bouier and other water activists have been fighting a narrative that assigns blame primarily to those impacted by the shutoffs. Early on, officials perpetuated the idea that residents were simply lazy and irresponsible. One official suggested that Detroiters should go down to the Detroit River with a bucket to fetch water. Then-emergency manager Kevyn Orr suggested that customers would rather pay for “luxuries” like cell phones than water. [...] As of early March [2020], activists had renewed their calls to the governor to enact a moratorium [on water utility shutoffs in Detroit], linking poor sanitation to an increased risk of Coronavirus. “Michigan residents have particular reason to fear the spread of coronavirus because the ongoing deprivation of tens of thousands of people from basic access to water and sanitation […]” the group’s statement reads. “Residents deprived of water in their homes have been sharing or borrowing water at an alarming rate – 80% in one study – creating a transmission path for coronavirus, as well as hepatitis A, shigellosis, campylobacter, and giardia, all of which have been plausibly linked to the shutoffs by health officials.”

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atlafan · 4 years

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Take it Slow - Part Nineteen

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

(Fluffy fluff! It’s the Thanksgiving part fam!)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen Part Seventeen Part Eighteen

Masterpost

Wednesday was a half day at work. Harry was busy at the beginning of the week, trying to wrap up his work before the holiday. It was a casual day at the office, so you decided to wear jeans and a cardigan. You and Niall walk out to your cars together.

“Have a great time with Sarah this weekend, her family is really nice.”

“Thanks.” He smiles at you. “Good luck tomorrow. I know Harry’ll be with ya, but-“

“I know, if I need you, I’ll call.”

“And don’t forget my dessert.”

“I won’t.” You say, rolling your eyes. You two hug goodbye, and off you go.

You drove right to the grocery store to get everything you needed for tomorrow. You had to make three different kugels. One for your dad, one for your sister’s house, and one to keep in the freezer to bring into work on Monday. Everyone would always beg you for the sweet casserole.

Harry keyed into your apartment around three, and found you cooking up a storm. You had loud music playing while the exhaust fan was on. You had your mixer going to beat all of the wet ingredients together. He smiled when he saw you wearing his apron. He had been leaving more and more of his things at your place. You didn’t mind. He walks over to you and waves hello. You’re startled, only for a second, and pause your music.

“Hi sweetie.” You say with a big smile, kissing him on the cheek. “I’m almost done, just need to pop these in the oven.” You put the casseroles together, put them in the oven, and set the timer. Your kitchen only took a few minutes to clean up since you tended to clean as you went. Harry is leaning against the counter, waiting for you. He opens his arms for you, and you happily go in for his embrace. “How was your day?”

“Good. Got a lot done. I feel good about takin’ a couple days off.”

“Good!” You look up at him.

“How was your day?” He squishes his nose to yours.

“Quick, thank god. We all mostly sat around and chatted. It’s hard to work on a project during a half day.” You brush your lips against his. “I missed you.” You squeak.

“You did?”

“Mhm.” You were trying to be more vocal with him. He needed reassurance just as much as you did. He kisses you, and you kiss him back.

“I like this on you.” He says, tugging at the apron.

“Really? I like it better on you.” You let go of him to untie it. “I couldn’t find mine for some reason. Must’ve gotten mixed in with the laundry.” You place the apron on your island. Harry lifts you up to sit on the counter, standing between your legs. You wrap your arms around his neck, and his go around your back. You liked when you two just hugged. You loved the smell of his cologne and the way his breath always smelled like mint.

“Babe?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.” You melted every time he said it. It didn’t matter how often he said it, you couldn’t hear it enough if you were being honest.

“I love you too, Harry.” He nestles his face into your neck, just nuzzling in. He was being soft with you today.

You realized that Harry had many personas when it came to you. Sometimes he was just your soft boy, looking for cuddles and small kisses. Your soft boy loved to be held at night. This side of him usually came out when he was tired. Then there was your quiet, yet cranky boy. When Harry was overtired or ravenous, he would get cranky. He would pout his lip out at you, and essentially act like a baby until you figured out how to make things better for him. Another side to Harry was when he was full of lust and domination. You wanted to refer to this as daddy Harry, but you would never tell him that. He was also careful not to be too dominating, in fear of scaring you, but you liked when he would take the lead.

You had your different personalities too that he would pick up on. How you were always so shy after he would make you orgasm, and that shyness seeping into the morning. He was a sucker for when you’d act like the baby. When you just wanted to be carried or taken care of. He also noticed slowly that you liked being in control in the bedroom. You liked telling him what to do and how to do it. Your confidence was so sexy to him.

Today he was being your soft boy, and you couldn’t get enough of it. The attention he craved from you knew no bounds. He picked you up off the counter and brought your over to the couch to lay with him.

“How ‘bout some TV?” He asks, taking the remote in his hand, switching on Parks and Rec. He grabs the blanket from the back of the couch, and throws it over your bodies. You feel cozy and warm laying against him. “Hey, whatever you’re makin’ smells pretty good.”

“Oh, thanks! It’s called kugel, remember?”

“So, just how Jewish is your family? Am I going to look like an idiot if I don’t know much?”

“Not at all baby! My brother married a gentile, and my sister is dating one.” You laugh. “You’ll be in mixed company tomorrow. As for the rest of us, we’re pretty Jewish. We all had bar and bat mitzvahs.”

“You can speak Hebrew?”

“Well, only from the Torah. I haven’t practiced in a while, but I have a lot of the prayers memorized so I don’t really need to read it. I can’t like, ask you how your day was in Hebrew or anything.”

“Did you go to temple a lot as a kid?”

“Yeah, for the most part. I went to Hebrew school on Sundays, and then once I graduated from that, I went to temple on Saturdays and had prep classes on Monday nights…for like two years.

“That’s a lot of work for a thirteen year old.”

“Sure is, why do you think we have such a big party once it’s over?”

“I bet you were so cute, up there, speakin’ Hebrew.” He giggles to himself.

About an hour or so later, the oven goes off, and you peel yourself off of Harry. He helps you get the kugels out of the oven, and he takes a big whiff.

“Oh my god, this smells incredible. I may have to try some tomorrow.” He winks at you.

“What do you wanna do for dinner tonight? I grabbed some fresh veggies and rice, I could whip up a stirfry or something.”

“You’ve been cookin’ all afternoon, let me make dinner.”

“We could cook together.”

“Deal.”

You take out the veggies from the fridge while Harry starts a pot of water for the rice. You both chop up some zucchini, asparagus, and mushrooms. It was fun to actually cook together. He let you taste test the veggies in the pan before adding the rice. You both scarfed down the stirfry, and sat back down on the couch.

“So what time do we need leave by in the morning?”

“Um, I’d say nine to get there for ten. Hang out with dad for a few hours then go to Erica’s.” Harry looks at his watch.

“Might turn in early, love. Don’t wanna be too tired.”

“Good idea. Hmmm.” You both stand up and walk to the bedroom.

“What?”

“I’m trying to decide if I wanna shower tonight, or tomorrow morning. I’ll be able to sleep in a little tomorrow if I shower tonight.”

“Good thinkin’, I’ll join ya.” He’s already taking his clothes off and turning the water on before you can answer him. “Are ya comin’?” You giggle and take your clothes off.

You get your hair wet first, and push it out of your face. You go to grab your shampoo, but Harry snatches it.

“Um, I need that.”

“I wanna do it, like how you do for me.”

“Oh.” You blush. “Alright.”

Harry puts a small bit of shampoo in his hands. You turn around and tilt your head back. His fingers massage into your scalp, and you can’t help but let out a small moan. He reaches above you to grab the shower head so he can scrub the shampoo out of your hair, the way he’s seen you do it a dozen times. Once he’s satisfied with his work, he puts the shower head back.

“Thank you baby.”

“Not done yet, conditioner.” He picks up the other bottle, takes the ends of your hair and works the conditioner in, then he turns you around so the water hits your hair. He grips it and wrings it out for you.

“Quite observant, aren’t you?” You wrap your arms around his neck, and go up on your tiptoes to kiss him. He wraps his arms around you, and gives your bum a squeeze.

“My turn please.” You giggle, but do as he says. He loved when your nails would really rake through his scalp.

Once you’re done with his hair, you take a wash cloth to wash his back and chest. He does the same for you. It was a nice, relaxing shower. You flip your hair over, and wrap it in a towel. You remember the first time Harry actually saw you do this. He laughed hysterically, but you were able to shut him up when you showed him the picture Niall had taken of him when his hair was long, and he would wrap his hair in towel. You wrap another towel around your body while Harry wraps one around his waist.

You brush your hair out after a few minutes, and begin to blow dry it. By the time you come out of the bathroom, Harry is curled up with his phone in bed. You throw a t-shirt on, and climb in with him.

“Goodnight baby.” You say to him with a soft kiss on the lips.

“Goodnight love.” He turns over like you thought he would, so you could spoon him.

Your alarm goes off at 7:30 the next morning. You’re soaked in sweat as Harry yet again managed to roll completely on top of you. He groans into your neck as you turn the alarm off. He rolls onto his back, bringing you with him on top of him, you squeal from the unexpected action.

“Harry, we need to get up. I need to do my hair and makeup. I haven’t picked an outfit out yet either.”

“But I’m so cozy.” He says, voice still thick with sleep.

“Well, you can stay in bed a bit longer, but you need to let go of me.” He groans again, but releases his grasp on you.

You go into the bathroom to do your morning routine. You plug your curling iron in, and get to work on your hair. Once you’re satisfied, you put your makeup on, and go back into your room. You smell nail polish remover and frown at the sight in front of you. Harry is hunched over on the side of the bed, rubbing his nails with a tissue.

“Babe, what are you doing?”

“It was startin’ to get chipped, so I thought I would take it all the way off.” You frown. His nails were still done from when you went away that weekend. He was trying to hold onto the color for as long as he could.

“Well, I have some quick drying polish if you wanna do them up quick.” You go into your dresser and take out some black nail polish. “See?”

“I think it’ll be fine for today if my nails aren’t painted. I don’t want to give off any weird impressions.”

“Oh Harry, I want you to be yourself around my family.”

“I will be. I’m still wearin’ my rings, and s’not like I can take my tattoos off.” He gives you a reassuring smile. “Tell ya what, when we get back tonight I’ll let ya paint my nails for me.”

“Alright.” You smile back at him. You open your closet and furrow your brows. “What dress do you think I should wear?” He gets up and stands next to you to look over the options.

“How ‘bout that navy one?” You liked your navy dress. It covered your breasts, and had a thin belt to help show your curves.

“Excellent choice.” You kiss him on the cheek.

Harry goes into the bathroom to do his thing while you put a lace bra and panties on. You take out some nylons, and roll them onto your legs.

“Holy shit.” You look up and see Harry staring at you.

“What?”

“You look so…fucking sexy like that.” Your cheeks flush.

“We do not have time for this.” You step into your dress, and pull it up. “Please come help me zip this up.” Harry pads over to you, and slowly zips your dress up, lingering for just a moment to kiss the back of your neck. “What are you going to wear?”

Harry goes to the side of the closet you had cleared for him a while ago. You wanted him to be able to leave some dress shirts and pants at your place. He pulls out a white button up and a pair of green dress pants.

“How ‘bout this?” You loved his green pants. They were a nice forest green that helped bring out the color of his eyes. You also liked when he would wear a white button up, so you could still make out some of the tattoos on his arms.

“I think that would be perfect.” You slip on your navy flats and head into the kitchen. You pull out two casseroles from the fridge and set them on the counter.

Harry comes sauntering out of your room. He has those light brown Chelsea boots on he loves so much. You watch him walk by and can’t help but notice the perfect curve of his butt in his slacks. This was going to be a very long day.

“What?” He asks, noticing you staring.

“Nothing, you just look handsome.” He blushes. He knows she wants him. “Help me carry these down to the car?”

Harry slips his jacket on, and grabs the casseroles from the counter while you put on your p-coat. You grab your keys, much to his dismay. Harry preferred to drive, but you told him since it was your family thing, you would drive.

“Looks like it’ll be a nice day out.” He says looking out the window as you pull out of the parking lot.

“Yup, just a little brisk out.” You hit a spot of traffic thirty minutes into the drive, and you groan. “I hate the way people drive.” This was the first time Harry would see you drive on the highway. You were trying to keep your road rage at bay.

“Holiday traffic, love. Nothin’ we can do about it.”

“I know, we should’ve left earlier. I figured yesterday would be the bigger traffic day.”

About an hour later, you get off at your town’s exit. Harry looks around, having not explored the area before. It was a good size town, there were lots of shops and places to go. You slowly pull up to your childhood home. It was a large white house with a detached garage and long driveway.

“Well, this is it.” Harry gives your hand a squeeze before getting out of the car. He jogs to your side to open your door. You roll your eyes at him.

“Just in case the old man is watchin’.” He winks at you.

You walk up the steps to your home and open the door. Usually your dad kept the door locked, but unlocked it knowing you were coming.

“Dad! We’re here!” You yell, nearly making Harry drop the food. You shrug and take your coat off, then grab the food from Harry to put in the fridge. Your dad had a huge kitchen, an addition he had put onto the home only a few years before your parents separated. Harry takes his jacket off and hang it up where you put yours. “Where is he?” You sort of ask yourself. You go down the hall to where the basement door is. “Dad! Hello!” You yell again. Harry smirks at your behavior.

“Hi!” You hear your dad yells up.

“Jesus, someday when my voice gives out maybe he’ll get a hearing aid.” Your dad comes up the stairs.

“Sorry, I had the parade on.” You two hug. He gives Harry a look.

“Dad, this is, um, my boyfriend, Harry.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” Harry extends his arm out, and gives your father a firm handshake.

“Why don’t you give the boy the tour while I heat up breakfast?” You dad says to you. “Probably the first time I’ve ever let a boy go up to your room.” He laughs to himself, and steps by the two of you.

“As far as he knows.” You whisper to Harry. You take his hand and walk him in the living room.

“What’s down stairs?”

“Just his man cave. I’ll show when we come back down. Figured we could start from the top down.”

“Sounds good to me. Should I take my shoes off?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Still holding his hand, you walk with him upstairs. He stops to admire the photos of you as a child on the wall.

“Look at that hair! And I thought I had a mess of curls as a kid.”

“Don’t make fun.” You pout, sticking your bottom lip out.

“M’not, you’re just so cute.”

“Jesus, come on.” You drag him up the stairs. You walk him through a room that looks like a den. “So this used to be mine and my sister’s room when we were really little. Then my dad turned our attic into a bedroom for Erica and I, and my other sister kept this room.” You turn to open the door up to the attic.

The stairs going up were really steep. Harry hit his knee twice trying to go up. You were used to the stairs so you practically flew up. The room was pretty bare, having not lived there in years. All that was left were the two twin beds you and your sister used to sleep on.

“Pretty big room!” He says walking all around.

“The desk was over here, and we had three dressers over there. All of our toy boxes were along that wall. We could never keep it clean up here. My sister and I are such packrats.”

“I find that hard to believe, your place is spotless.”

“I have storage unit I keep a lot of my old shit in.” You smile at where you used to keep your Barbie’s. “Erica and I used to dump out this big blue bin that had all of our Barbie’s in it. We would play for hours and just leave them around until we were ready to play again. It drove our parents nuts that we just never cleaned up.” You sit down on the bed, he sits next to you.

“So, this is where the magic happened, yeah?”

“Maybe for my sister, I never brought a guy up here.”

“Why not?”

“Didn’t date much in high school.” You shrug and stand up. “Come on, there’s more to see.”

You both go back downstairs. You show him your brother’s old room, which was now a guest room. Then you brought him back down to the living room. You could smell your dad’s latkes. Then you brought him down to the basement. Your dad had quite the man cave. Big TV, surround sound, and a small bar. There were shelves full of tapes and DVS’s. He had sports paraphernalia everywhere.

“Real New England fan, huh?”

“You have no idea.” There were pictures of you and your siblings everywhere. He stopped to look at a picture of you and your dad with a trophy.

“When was this?”

“Oh! That’s like my favorite pic of me and Dad. The Red Sox had just won the World Series in ’04, and the trophy was on tour. They brought the trophy to the high school, so my dad brought us. They even let us touch it, it was so cool. I think I was like nine or ten.”

“Cute bangs.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Someday I’m going to see where you grew up, and I’m going to make fun the whole time.”

“Deal.”

You take him back upstairs to the kitchen where your dad was putting everything on plates.

“Need any help?” You ask.

“Nope, let’s sit at the dining room table.” Your dad brings the last couple of plates over, and the three of your sit down. “So, Harry, what do you do?”

“I’m a photographer for a geographical magazine.” He tugs his shirt sleeve down to try to hide his anchor tattoo. “I also do a lot of freelance work.”

“Harry also has his master’s degree.”

“What does a photographer need a graduate degree for?”

“Well, a couple of reasons. Quite frankly, I wasn’t ready to leave school. My two best mates and I all enrolled to get our MBA’s. It worked out in my favor though because I learned how to properly run my freelance business.”

“Why stay with the magazine then?”

“Health insurance.” Harry shrugs. “And other benefits.”

“Makes sense. I told (y/n) that benefits was one of the most important things when looking for a job. She got lucky where she ended up.”

“I was lucky an alum from the college worked there to help me with the interview.” You all take some food and dig in. “Dad, these are so good.”

“Found a recipe that used parsnips. Ever had potato pancakes before?” He asks Harry.

“Oh sure, never as fresh as this though.” He smiles. Your dad looks down and sees the cross on Harry’s hand, which leads his eyes up to the anchor he was trying to hide on his wrist. Your dad squints at the rings on Harry’s fingers as well.

“Got some tattoos there, I see.”

“Um, yeah, just a few.” Harry’s heart was starting to beat faster. He really did want to make a good impression.

“You know when mum and I were still together we used to joke about getting each other’s names tattooed on our butts.” He starts laughing.

“Dad!” You laugh as well. Harry gives a bit of a nervous laugh.

The conversation stay pleasant from there. You tell your dad about your current project at work, and he fills you in on his volunteer work at the food pantry. Harry helps clean up the dishes when you’re done eating. Your dad turns the parade on in the kitchen. You decide to sit down at the piano in the living room. You open it up and tap on a couple of different keys. Harry hears you from the other room.

“Is that her playing?” He asks your dad.

“Yup, when she was really little she would flip it over and start playing. My wife’s great aunt had that piano and gave it to us. All the girls learned how to play. My son learned how to play the guitar.”

“Musical family.”

“I suppose. I’m hoping someday when she buys a house she’ll take it. She’s the only one that’ll play. Don’t tell ‘em I told you this, but she really is the smartest out of the four. She sees things clearly from every angle.”

“She’s very bright, I’m a lucky guy.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

Harry and your dad come out to the living room to listen to you play more clearly. You’re not playing anything crazy, just some songs you remember learning as a kid. You finish and turn to face them.

“I’m glad you keep this in tune.” You smile at your dad. You look down at your watch. It would take another thirty minutes to get to your sister’s house. “I think we have to get going.” You stand up to give him a hug.

“Happy Thanksgiving honey.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, dad.”

“It was great to meet you Harry.” He shakes Harry’s hand.

“Same to you.”

You both walk out and get into the car. You can’t believe how well that went. You were fully expecting your dad to ask Harry a million different questions.

“I think I sealed the deal with him when I talked about my health insurance.” He chuckles.

“Oh, for sure.” You pull out of the driveway and drive towards Erica’s.

“In all seriousness, how was that? He was sort of quiet at first.”

“He takes some time to warm up to people.”

“You never mentioned you could play the piano.”

“It never came up. It’s not like I’m some prodigy or anything, if I was they would’ve kept paying for lessons.”

You get to Erica’s in exactly thirty minutes. You see your mom’s car is already there. Your brother’s isn’t there, as you assumed because he’s always late. You see your uncle’s car is there already as well. You take a deep breath, and wrap an arm through one of Harry’s.

“It’s gonna be fine.” He smiles down at you.

The door is half open when you walk in. Loud voices roaming through the house. You hear a distinctive, and familiar laugh.

“No fucking way!” You squeal. You run toward the laugh leaving Harry behind to rush back to you. “Nannie!” You throw your arms around you grandmother, tears nearly forming. She wraps her arms around you giving you the best hug possible. “Mom, are kidding me? How could not tell me she was coming?” You say giving your mom a hug and kiss.

“She wanted it to be a surprise.”

“How long are you here for?”

“Just a little over a week, precious.” You give her another hug. You look up and see Harry holding onto the kugel.

“Whoops, sorry, Erica!” You yell for your sister, who comes running into the room to give you a hug. You take the kugel from Harry’s hands, and give it to your sister.

“Yay! Thanks.” She turns around to bring it into the kitchen. You take Harry’s coat, and put yours and his into the coat closet.

“Alright, mom you remember Harry?”

“Of course, hi dear.” She gives him a gentle hug.

“Hello.”

“And Harry, this is my Nannie.”

“I’ve heard so much about you.” He gives her a hug and you could nearly cry at the sight.

“I’ve heard about you too.” She takes his hands in hers. “What beautiful rings. I love a man that can wear his jewelry, your papa never left the house without his gold on.” She says to you. Her eyes catch his anchor tattoo. “Oh for the love of god, her uncle will just love you.”

“He’s got quite a few, I’ve seen them.” Your mom says. Erica comes back over to you.

“So, is this him?”

“Yes, this is Harry.”

“Thanks so much for coming. By the way, mom made an extra dessert to bring to Niall.”

“Oh perfect, thanks!”

“Harry, can I get you anything to drink? We have beer and wine, and we have some other alcohol too. Or if you want water or something?”

“Um, a beer would be great actually.”

“We have bud, bud light, corona…”

“Bud light is fine. If you tell me where it is, I can get it.”

“Just through the kitchen, out to the patio.”

“Want anythin’?”

“Glass of wine please.” He walks off to fine the beverages.

“Oh my god, how do you keep finding these crazy attractive guys?” Your sister says to you.

“I told you he was cute, his pictures don’t do him justice.” Your mom says.

“And how polite was he? He seems sweet honey.” Your Nannie says. Harry comes back shortly with a glass of red wine for you, and a bud light in his other hand.

“Harry, you’re a photographer?” Your Nannie asks him.

“Yes.”

“What made you want to go into that field?”

“Don’t know really, I just always had a camera in my hand growin’ up. Figured I’d want to get a job doing somethin’ I actually liked.”

“And you grew up in England?”

“Yeah, a few hours outside of London.”

“(y/n), where’s that cute Irish friend of yours today?” She asks you.

“He’s started dating my friend Sarah, so he’s with her this weekend. He sends his love. Harry and him are actually best friends, Niall introduced us.”

“Oh! How nice, well, I definitely know you’re in good hands if Niall had something to do with it.”

Harry snakes an arm around your waist to pull you a little closer to him. This environment was a lot less relaxed than your dad’s house was. About thirty minutes later your brother showed up with his wife and baby. You give them a few minutes to settle in before going over to hold your nephew. You take him in your arms and snuggle him giving him light kisses on his forehead.

“Harry, this is my brother and sister in law.”

“Hi, nice to meet you.” Harry shakes both of their hands. Your brother and sister in law give each other a look.

“Nice to meet you too, man.” You brother says. “Wanna hold him for a bit so we can say hi to everyone. We don’t really want Mike’s family all over him.”

“Well it’ll be torturous, but I’ll manage.” You say sarcastically.

“Mike is Erica’s boyfriend, right?”

“Yup.” Harry watches as you bounce the baby, lightly rocking him from side to side.

“He’s awfully cute.”

“Isn’t he?” She kisses his forehead again. “I could just snuggle him all day.”

Harry loved babies, he had mentioned it to you several times. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he just had this natural thing with babies and kids. He liked seeing how easy and comfortable you were with your nephew.

“Hey, (y/n), can you come help me in the kitchen?” Erica asks.

“But I’m holding the baby.”

“Have Harry hold him, I need your help.” You suck your teeth and roll your eyes.

“Fine.” You look up to Harry. “Do you mind taking him for a minute?”

“Will your brother mind?”

“No, it’s fine.”

You hand your nephew off to Harry, who is trying to hold his excitement in. Your nephew looked up at him with big blue eyes. Harry walked him into the kitchen to see what your help was needed for. You looked at Harry and smiled. He looked so comfortable carrying your nephew around. You were helping your sister get her buffet table together now that everyone was there.

Your Nannie comes over to help as well.

“I’ll take him.” She says to Harry. He gently passes the baby off her to her. “Isn’t he precious?” She kisses him. “Now that’s delicious.” You giggle. This is going much better than you thought. Your uncle comes walking over. He hasn’t had a chance to meet Harry yet.

“So, this the guy?”

“Yes, this is Harry.” The two shake hands.

“Do you have a sleeve?” He asks, noticing the tattoos peeking through his shirt.

“Um, not technically.”

“And don’t give him any ideas either.” Your Nannie says. You wrap an arm around Harry’s waist, hoping he’s not uncomfortable.

“Oo, you two are so cute, let me take your picture.” Erica says. You hand her your phone, and lean into Harry while she snaps a couple shots. “Everybody! Dinner is good to go!”

“Harry, why don’t you sit down with my grandmother and I’ll make you both a plate. Save me a seat between you two.”

Before he can protest, your Nannie gives the baby to your brother, and grabs Harry to go sit with her. You make up a plate for him with every vegetable you can find, along with some mashes potatoes. Your mom makes up a plate for your Nannie. You stack another plate for yourself and pile on some green bean casserole, vegetables, and mashed potatoes. You put Harry’s plate in front of him, and sit between him and your Nannie.

Harry sits quietly as he eats, listening to the vibrant conversations your family has. He notices that your oldest sister isn’t there, and makes a mental note to ask about it later. Your mom starts telling a story about when her and your uncle were kids, and your Nannie started choking, and had to slap the back of neck to get the food out. Between tears from laughing your mom says,

“And she says, ‘you ungrateful bastards! I could’ve died!’” Everyone at the table was laughing. Harry started laughing just from the sight of you, tears streaming down your cheeks, trying not to choke on the food you were eating.

“That is the best story.” You say, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“It was scary you know! You two are a couple of bastards.” Your Nannie says, not really meaning it. “Harry, you must think we’re a bunch of lunatics.”

“Not at all, I think it’s great you all seem so close.” He says with a smile.

“I cannot get over that accent.” Erica says. She was sitting across from you. “How come you stayed here and didn’t go back overseas?”

“I just really liked it here. Fell into some good opportunities and didn’t feel the need to leave.”

“So do you have a work visa?” Your brother asks.

“I started off with a student visa, and then had a work visa once I graduated. About a year after that, once I knew I wanted to stay, my mates and I all took citizenship tests, so I have dual citizenship. Annoying process, but it makes it much easier to travel now.”

“How did you two meet again?” Your brother asks you.

“Niall set us up on a blind date a few months ago.” You smile, giving Harry a squeeze on the thigh.

“Where did you guys go a couple weeks ago? The pictures were so pretty.” Your sister in law says.

“We went up to New Hampshire to check out the foliage. It was incredible.”

“Harry, do you do any freelance work?” She asks.

“Quite a bit, yeah.” She looks at your brother.

“Do you ever take pictures of people? We’d love to get a little photoshoot in before Christmas if possible. We’d pay you of course.”

“Sure, I’d love to. Do you have a specific date in mind? I’d have to book it now just cause I’m startin’ to fill up.” He takes out his phone and opens his calendar.

“Um, would two weeks from Saturday work? In the afternoon?” Harry looks at the date.

“I have from like two to four open if that works for you.”

“That should be great! Oh thank you so much. It’ll be nice to have some professional photos to send out. You’re really good, we sorta creeped on your Instagram page.”

“That’s what it’s there for. I’m happy to help.”

After dinner, you all have a little dessert. Most of your immediate family migrated to one part of the house. You were sitting with Harry on the couch when your siblings came over to sit in the same room. Your Nannie sat right next to you. The couch was getting crowded. Without thinking, Harry pulled you onto his lap. You got a few looks, but no one seemed to mind.

“Alright, I’d like to see more of the tattoos.” Erica says, glass of wine in hand.

“I don’t know if your grandmum will appreciate that.”

“Oh go ahead, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.” He looks at you for approval, and you nod.

Harry adjusts himself so he can untuck his shirt, and unbuttons it. He shimmies his sleeves off. Revealing his heavily tattooed left arm. His right arm only had a couple. He pointed to a few that had meaning, and explained that others were just for fun, or from when friends asked to practice on him. He pointed to where the large butterfly sits just below his breast plate, and the others near his collar bones and hips. He points to where the large tiger is on his thigh.

“Didn’t all of those hurt?” Erica asks.

“Not really, you sorta get used to it after a while.”

“Have you ever done one yourself?” Your sister in law asks.

“Um, yeah, I wrote the word big on my big toe.” Everyone bursts out laughing. “I did say they weren’t all meaningful.” He shrugs his shirt back on, and buttons it up, not bothering to tuck it back in.

“Can I hold the baby again?” You ask. Your brother passes him to you, and you rest his head on your shoulder. “He’s so cozy, I love it. Erica, take my picture with him.” You hand her your phone. She takes one close up, and then backs up a bit to get Harry in the shot. “Thanks.”

After a couple more hours, you both decided to call it a night. You started saying your goodbyes throughout the room.

“Honey, can we come see you Sunday? Nannie hasn’t seen your apartment yet.”

“Sure! You know, I could drive back home tomorrow and stay with you a couple of nights while she’s here. That way she can get around if need be.” Harry tries to hide his slightly fallen face. He wants you to spend time with your grandmother, he was just looking forward to another long weekend with you.

“Don’t be silly, you don’t need to do all that driving.”

“I know, I just want to spend time with her.”

“We can spend the entire day Sunday together.”

“Alright…” You hug your mom, and go to give your Nannie a big hug. “Guess I’ll see you Sunday.”

“Okay darling girl, I love you.” She gives you a big kiss.

“Love you too.”

“Will Harry be around too?” You look over to him and he nods yes. “Wonderful, we can keep getting to know each other.” Harry gives your mom and grandmother a hug goodbye and waves off to everyone else.

“Want me to drive us back, love?” He asks as you walk out into the cold air.

“Would you mind? I’m suddenly realizing how tired I am.”

“Not a problem.” You hand him the keys, and get into the car.

#take it slow #harry styles #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles y/n fic #fluff

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oh-mother-of-darkness · 5 years

Text

Umbrella. That’s what Tim forgot; his umbrella was packed into one of the plastic bins that the movers dropped off that morning, along with his rain jacket and all the hoodies he owned. At least his boots were waterproof. The socks underneath them were safe.

Tim stepped out of the limo and into the rain, half jogging— as much as he could jog on his single crutch— from the sidewalk to the cover of the balcony overhanging the entrance to his new home, formerly the Crime Alley movie theatre. He punched in an eight-digit code and stepped inside.

The apartment was almost finished, fully furnished, with only a few boxes left in each room: Tim’s personal belongings, the last things to move in. There weren’t a whole lot of them. Safe from prying eyes, Tim stashed his crutch by the door and strode around the place without it.

It was Tim’s place. There was something satisfying about that idea, about a space that was his and his alone. It had taken time and a lot of renovation, but the old theatre was Tim’s now. The walls had his pictures, every room had his furniture, and all of his personal effects were sitting in boxes, ready to be unpacked. The fish in their tank were his too. He had named all of them.

The rain tapped slower on the windows, like it wouldn’t last much longer. Tim moved around the boxes in the living room anyway, checking for his rain equipment. He didn’t have anything to do for a few hours, but he needed to be at Wayne Enterprises that night. Best to be prepared.

He spotted the red of his old raincoat through the transparent plastic of a box labelled several years back. That one wasn’t appropriate for a formal event, but Tim popped the seal on the box anyway and pulled the jacket out. The object underneath it caught his eye: a skateboard.

It wasn’t the Redboard. Tim knew version two was down in the sub-basement with the rest of his vigilante gear, stowed in one of the drawers in his vehicle room. No, the skateboard in the box was Tim’s first board, bright green and chipped from a few hundred wipeouts.

Tim stared down at it. Tim had an idea. It wasn’t a good one.

There were several reasons, Tim told himself, why he should not go skating then and there. First, there was the rain. Even if it died down, the sidewalks would be slippery and unsafe.

Second, there was his broken arm. He wasn’t supposed to exert himself for six weeks, and it had only been five and a half. One arm slung to his chest would throw off his balance. It would be hard enough to get back on a board after some time away. The arm would make it much harder.

Finally, it wouldn’t do for the much-photographed Tim Drake-Wayne to be seen without the crutch. Fortunately, there were ways to mitigate that risk.

Tim peeled back the edge of a curtain to check the weather situation outside. The rain had stopped. Tim made up his mind. He pulled on a pair of loose jeans and a tshirt, then pulled on the old red raincoat with the sling outside and the hood up. Hopefully that covered most of his face.

The back door to the basement let him out on an alley off of 8th Street, a long ways from the front of his building. No one watching the apartment would track him there. Tim checked anyway. No one followed him. He stepped onto his board, gave it a push with his foot, and rolled down the concrete towards the sidewalk.

It took him a few minutes of pure rolling to adjust to the arm, but he did adjust, even if he wasn’t going to be able to do anything truly dramatic with the sling on. He started experimenting slowly, hopping the curb between sidewalk and street a half-dozen times, then kick-turning around puddles as he made his way down 8th and towards the square. He hit a set of steps, attempted a jump, and immediately crashed.

Tim pulled his arms into his chest and rolled on his good shoulder when he hit. He came up without much damage, found his board wheels-up a few feet down the sidewalk, and continued towards the railing on the steps downward. He tried a grind and wiped out again, this time more dramatically, several feet in the air. He had to turn a flip to avoid crashing into the banister.

A group of passing teens whooped rowdily, maybe at the failed trick, maybe at the save. Tim waved sheepishly and went on his way.

His second jump landed. So did his third and fourth. Tim rolled faster, gaining confidence, trying flat ollies and manuals, both regular and switch. He hit the square with its ramps and railings, skidded to a stop, and considered his options.

He set his eyes on the curved walkway to the public library: essentially a mini-ramp without the coping, fortunately empty. There weren’t many people in the square at all. The rain probably drove them away.

Tim dropped into the ramp and practiced pumping from side to side for a few minutes before he tried anything harder. When he felt prepared, he sped to the top of the ramp for a rock to fakie. It went well. Tim repeated the move a few times, got comfortable, and progressed to other stalls, then fly-outs. He fell twice, once badly, then a lot more times as he sped over the slick concrete, off of the curves at the library and over to the rails.

He practiced the grind until it worked again and he could slide down the railings forward or sideways. Tim grinned, exhilarated. He had forgotten how much he liked skateboarding. On his last time at the rails, he managed a heelflip grind— flipping his skateboard over the first half of the railing, sliding down the second. He landed and pumped his fist in the air.

Time to go. Tim turned around and sped back down 8th, towards his basement entrance, smiling through the ride. Five minutes in, he spotted a little girl maybe six years old walking with an older woman down the sidewalk.

The girl pointed in Tim’s direction, excited.

“Skateboard!”

Tim slowed down to a crawl, barely rolling at all. He crouched on his board as he passed the two of them and held out his good hand.

The girl high-fived him, laughing. Tim laughed too, sped up again, and finished his trip back home. He hopped off the board at the basement door, checked again to make sure no one followed him, and tapped in his code.

The door slid open, and Tim slid inside, happy and grinning with his board under his arm.

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for @thattimdrakeguy

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Anonymous said:

Can I request just like, Tim having a good day? Because he deserves one?

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Anonymous said:

Tim and a skateboard

#if you skateboard you're legally not allowed to read this #because i don't know what i'm talking about #tim drake #batfamily #fanfiction #mine

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chrisbrecheenwritingaboutwriting · 4 years

Text

Thousands of Dead Teachers

This is long enough that I almost made it a post but blogging feels a bit more "official" to me, and this is really more a mental splat, so I went ahead and kept it as a FB post even though it got pretty long.

I think about teachers a lot right now. I know a lot of teachers. And most reopening plans are trying to get them back into their classrooms in some capacity in the fall.

I'm really worried about teachers.

I think people should be absolutely clear and blunt with the language they use around schools reopening. We should pull no punches about what we're talking about when we demand teachers go back to work despite no vaccine, and a sort of half-ass committment to try to spread kids out in classrooms and wear masks and sanitize more. (This from district after district that assured their people there was simply no money to reduce class sizes or increase janitorial budgets.)

There are 3.7 million teachers in the U.S.

I can't really "run the numbers" because we don't have reliable enough statistics. This isn't official. I'm no epidemiologist. Someone could even check these numbers and if I'm blowing them up, I'd be relieved. But even conservative estimates paint a grisly picture. A lot of teachers are going to get sick. A WHOLE lot. Teachers deal with dozens of students and the chances that at least one one of those students will be spreading Covid at SOME point is outrageously high.

Just consider for a moment what the chances are that ONE parent of ONE kid a teacher comes in contact with believes Covid-19 is "basically just the flu and this whole thing is overblown" and they send their kid in despite knowing they're sick. Kids show up to school sick with flu all the damn time. Parents don't always check well enough or think the kid is faking it or just have too important a meeting this morning to think about it rationally (because schools are child care after all). All it takes is one.

And from what we know just from our own numbers in the U.S so far, roughly about 35,000-40,000 are going to die for every million who get sick. Getting THAT number down would require health care reforms. So I don't know exactly how many teachers are going to get sick, but it will be hundreds of thousands and possibly millions. And that means the cold, unforgiving math we're looking at is that tens of thousands of teachers are about to die.

Tens. Of Thousands. Of Teachers. Are. About. To Die.

This is what we're talking about. This is why mincing words and skirting bluntness is so dangerous. Euphemisms about sacrifice or jingoist catchphrases about the bravery of essential workers doesn't bring this into focus. That's why I worry so much about all my teacher friends.

And why? Because we couldn't wait another semester or two or keep trucking with a better investment in online learning. Because kids at home need supervision and parents are less productive when they have to do it themselves. We wanted things "back to normal" so bad that we dismissed the consequences.

And if I could keep being a Debbie Downer, that's just the ones who die. Covid 19 isn't a dead/okay light switch. There are a lot of outcomes in between the two. At any point you might have thousands of teachers in the hospital for weeks who will live but will be hospitalized (unable to teach and requiring substitutes). And you will have tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands out sick for a couple of weeks. And they will be getting their own families sick during this process and adding even more horror to the show.

Even if you don't think that's a humanitarian horror for a choice we could have simply NOT MADE, from a purely pragmatic point of view, it's going to cause a runaway teaching crisis. And then you get people who haven't been properly trained doing the teaching. And then the quality of education suffers. And then privatized education makes inroads. And then the student achievement gap grows further by income. And then......

This, of course, does not account for how many kids will get each other sick (from their teachers or each other) and bring Covid-19 home to their parents from the added übervector of schools. And the number of teachers "lost" also doesn't count for a lot of teachers who would rather retire, retire early, or just plain quit than literally risk their lives to provide the daytime child care that this is really about.

Every single proposed adaptation for social distancing in school has made me think, "Wait, have these people ever actually BEEN in a classroom?" If you put the kids six feet apart in a typical class, you're going to have about seven or eight kids. And you're telling me that suddenly there will be money in the budget to go from teachers cleaning their own rooms because the district can only afford janitors once a week to proper and full sanitization?

We're about to shove teachers into a meat grinder, and mincing words about it isn't doing anyone any favors. Least of all the teachers.

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magicalhideoutengineer · 4 years

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David Heyman: We began casting at the end of 2014. From the outset, Eddie Redmayne was our first and only choice. Not only does he look as if he lives in 1926, but he has all the elements required to be Newt: he’s smart, funny, utterly British, and immensely sympathetic – even as an outsider more comfortable with his beasts than with people. He spent six months working with a movement coach and animal trainers (and of course David Yates) to develop his character and his idiosyncrasies. We auditioned thousands for the parts of Queenie, Tina and Jacob, before narrowing it down to a dozen or so.

We then did screen tests with each of them and Eddie, switching around different combinations, as David Yates thought it essential we saw how they were in their various pairings, and as a group, since it's the chemistry between the four that really makes the film. Eddie was wonderfully supportive and generous with them; he would visit each one in their room or trailer, run lines, and offer encouragement before they arrived on set. Ultimately we decided on Katherine Waterston as Tina and Alison Sudol as Queenie.

They performed a beautiful improvisation, and though they'd met only 30 minutes before, the intimacy, sense of history and sisterly banter gave the impression that they had known each other their entire lives. As for Jacob, we cast the singer, comedian and actor Dan Fogler. He's been a revelation, able to make you laugh, then break your heart within a moment.

In editing, we whittled the film down from three-and-a- half hours to a lean 124 minutes (not including titles). I'm biased, of course, but I think it's an extraordinarily rich, immersive and pleasurable two hours.

#fantastic beasts #katherine waterston #fantastic beasts and where to find them #Alison Sudol #Dan Fogler #Eddie Redmayne #David Heyman #fbawtftinterview #tina goldstein #queenie goldstein #newt scamander #jacob kowalski

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yakgreece3 · 4 years

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Exactly What's Interesting with the Best and Newest iPhone Collection of Cell Phones

Users undoubtedly concur with myself that iPhone X design was one of the best, and that's precisely why Apple decided to keep the exact same look to their next set of individualized mobile phones. Introduced one year before, it's the very first Apple cell phone to jettison the home button. At another, I held its brand new redesign, the Iphone Xs. My eyes squeezed shut, I passed them back and forth between my hands, rolling each telephone over, setting the curves, glass backs, double lens camera bumps, and radar vents. I understood that I couldn't tell the difference between the two phones. This isn't a criticism. It is only a simple fact of S version years, where Apple locks in the iPhone design and focuses, rather, on upgrading key internal parts. Therefore, the biggest changes to this 5.8-inch iPhone Xs and its big brother, the 6.5-inches iPhone XS Max, each of which I analyzed, can be seen in functionality (thanks to the new A12 Bionic CPU), photos and movies, (new digital cameras and a new ISP endorsed by the A12), and performance (iOS12, the final version of that came pre-applied in my evaluation components ). The outcome is a pair of brilliant, elegant, and high-performing gadgets that will please iPhone enthusiasts and capture over a few glances out of Android adherents. It still has the exact same rigid surgical steel frame wrapped in a new glass material which Apple said was devised to be more scratch resistant and heavy duty. I gave the phones a few half-hearted drops on a thin-pile carpet but wasn't ready to let them slide away on concrete. Thus far I've discovered just one very fine scratch on your iPhone Xs Max. So let's think about them scratch-resistant, but still not scratch-proof. The larger Iphone Xs Max shares all of the iPhone X's content and layout attributes, but does this at a 6.2-inch x 3.05-inch x 0.30-inch body. At 208 g, it's substantially thicker than the Iphone Xs. The Xs Max is a hair shorter (0.04 inches) and thinner (0.02 inches), but it's also a few grams bulkier when compared to the iPhone 8 Plus, the big-screen telephone that from a distance the Iphone Xs Max most looks. Button placement power/sleep, quantity controls, ring/silent switch -- will be exactly the same. However, there is a single minor chassis gap. On the bottom edge of both telephones sits on the lightning connector. It is book-ended by a set of holes which accommodate one half of their stereo speaker system and among their phone's microphones. There used to be six openings on either side. Now the right side includes half a dozen holesbut the left, that just houses a microphone, has only three. This small change was done, in part, to accommodate the new internal antenna setting which contains 4x4 MIMO and Permit Assisted accessibility, which utilizes unlicensed 5 GHz range to provide 1 Gbps broadband over LTE. Apple updated the water and dust-resistance evaluation to IP 68, that contrasts into the handsets residing in 2 meters of water for up to 30 minutes. I did not have to go swimming with all the iPhone Xs or even Xs Max, but didn't run the latter telephone under water, milk, and juice. Then, as advocated, I dried and shut off the mobile phone. I had been careful not to plug it back into a lighting cable (that is a no-no after a dowsing) but didn't place it onto a wireless charging foundation at which it had no trouble accepting a fee. Apple, incidentally, stated it put some effort into creating the wireless charging platform (essentially the hidden coils in the telephone ) more forgiving. This is good news, because I've on more than one event, woken up to find that my iPhone X didn't charge since I put it a modest off-axis about the charging base. I have never ran into this issue with either the iPhone Xs or even Xs Max. The Iphone Xs and Xs Max bodies are somewhat rigid and solid-feeling, but torqueable, specifically the bigger smart phone, which really makes a tiny clicking noise when I attempt to spin it. Clearly, I have just had these iPhones for weekly, but according to a year's experience with the original iPhone X (allowed, mostly in a thin case), I consider this layout framework tough and prepared for the long run. Even as Samsung trolls Apple for its black cutout at the peak of this iPhone Xs and Xs Max, Apple reveals no signs of stepping backwards in the multi-feature technologies, which neither grew nor shrunk in the hottest iPhones. Just like the first TrueDepth Module, this one is still packaged with the same elements (none of that, as far as I can tell, have been upgraded ). There is a 7 MP camera, scatter projector for thickness sensing, infrared camera (thickness sensing), flood illuminator (yes, also for depth-sensing), proximity sensor, ambient light detector, the next half of the stereo speaker program, and a mic. About the backs of both the iPhone Xs and Xs Max, there's more of that customized glass, the Apple Logo, the term iPhone (however no"X" or"therefore"), and also the 12 MP dual camera system. This vertically-oriented, pill-shaped camera module looks exactly the same as it did in the past Iphone X. It is still a prominent bump, but at least it didn't receive any larger. Within the module is all new hardware backed by new image technologies, but more about this later. I have always considered that the 5.8-inch iPhone X that an outstanding tradeoff involving a big-screen telephone and hand-friendly ergonomics. The screen is big and immersive, however, the human body is comfortable to hold pocket. The iPhone Xs Max in contrast can, particularly if you're utilized to holding a smaller phone, feel big. It's not embarrassing to hold, but those with smaller hands will probably struggle with one-handed usage and will most likely need to turn on Reachability, which using a swipe back on the horizontal bar moves all halfway down the screen, which makes it longer accessible. Nonetheless, the trade-off may be well worth it. I forgot how much I like the bigger iPhone screen, and on the Iphone Xs Max, you receive much more display without contending with a bigger phone (there's just that 0.04-inch height difference between the iPhone 8 Plus and the iPhone Xs Max). Apple's full-stack control of this Iphone layout, development, and production process pays dividends throughout the gleaming handset. But it's most noticeably in the silicon, that can be created and designed in conjunction with the software and hardware elements which will rely on it. This past Year, Apple launched the A11 Bionic, a powerful mobile CPU with built-in Artificial Intelligence Power. The brand new A12 Bionic builds on that short legacy having a more strong Neural Engine and even more impressive graphics performance. Every time I talk about a brand new iPhone, I begin by using Geekbench 4 to check out the raw CPU operation. To ensure that there are minimum background processes going, I usually run the exam before I've installed a single app. I conducted the Geekbench CPU standard and (together with understanding which Apple stuffed an extra gig of memory in the new Xs class iPhones) saw that the single core scores had improved marginally between the A11 Bionic and A12 Bionic. On the other hand, the multi-core score was inexplicably lower. Not by a good deal, but I hadn't ever seen that occur. The amounts were much higher than what I obtained from Qualcomm's Snapdragon 845, however, a decrease result on the new iPhone didn't make sense. But once I reran the Geekbench CPU evaluation per day or so after, the A12 multi-core numbers beat people of the A11. My guess is that, though I put up the iPhone Xs and Xs Max as fresh iPhones, there might still have been some background installation process happening that dragged down the CPU amounts. The larger leap in performance is in the Geekbench Compute Metal score, which jumped from 15,145 about the Iphone X into 22,245 about the iPhone Xs and Xs Max. Apple's done a lot of effort to beef up graphics performance, particularly for the raft of ARKit two (and Surface 2) software heading into the stage, some of which will support multiplayer gambling. When there are not a great deal of ARKit 2 apps in the app store, I'd get a hands-on time using an Iphone Xs operating Galaga ARthe identical demonstration Apple showed off during the iPhone Xs unveiling. To play with, me and a few other writers stood on a table and pointed out our telephones in the virtual Galaga video arcade game console. Shortly, alien attackers began streaming first from the video game display and from all round us. I swung the phone from side-to-side up and down and up to view and then shoot at the arriving strike. It had been swift and good fun. Similarly, I have seen , together with ARKit 2, the phone can set, say, an incredibly realistic digital pressure stove or sneaker on a real table or in my toes, the illusion broken only when I slid my hands into the framework as well as on the iPhone Xs display, it seemed just like my notes had been stuck beneath the kettle. You can't support these kinds of real-virtual mixes without ample graphics horsepower, depth mapping, along with the AI required to identify surfaces, dark areas, as well as reflections will operate on online items in an actual open space. That processing ability also helped amp up more mundane operations such as Face ID. While the process of registering my head was unchanged from the original iPhone X, starting either telephone with my head, as well as using Face ID to access password-protected programs and solutions, is significantly faster than it was about the iPhone X. In general, in actual applications, both Iphone Xs and Xs Max operate smoothly. Apple place significant amount of work into enhancing the photo and video experience on the Iphone Xs and Xs Max. Along with fresh lenses along with a larger sensor, both the cameras (rear and selfie) are all backed by a fresh picture signal cpu. The features on the dual cameras have been untouched from the iPhone X (and will be the same on either iPhone Xs and Xs Max). There's the f 1.8 wide angle lens along with the f 2.4 2X telephoto. The two comprise optical image stabilization and can shoot up to 4K video in 60 fps. They still shoot slow-motion video in up to 240 frames per second. If you want mad 960 fps super-slo-mo, then you'll need to visit Samsung. In the pure-play photography race, however, Apple requires the lead. The Smart HDR uses sensor, ISP, and neurological enhancements to capture some of the most effective high-dynamic range photographs I have ever seen. The gap between what was possible on the original iPhone X and also the Xs and Xs Max is magnificent. Apple made a system able of capturing two frames every thirtieth of a moment, and instantly analyzing and merging them into one image that maintains not only foreground and background detail, but that can freeze actions without introducing grain. In numerous pictures, I saw that the iPhone Xs and Xs Max find color and detail in shadowy spaces without wasting out the lighter places. The Samsung Galaxy Note 9 is also an excellent low light shooter, but I think the Xs lineup is a bit better.

I'm particularly impressed by how Apple's constructed upon its own pole position in Portrait Mode digital photography. Apple introduced Portrait Mode in 2016 with the iPhone 7 Plus (the applications lagged from the hardware). Since then, Apple's elegant the technology, including things like Studio Light, Contour Light, Stage Light, and Stage Light Mono. All of these features remain, and have been somewhat enhanced. That which I love and, as an amateur photographer who regularly performs with f-stops for just the perfect depth of field change, is that the newest Depth Control. Depth Control lets you choose a Portrait Mode photograph and adjust the Bokeh, or depth of field attention, after you take the photographs. This works with both the front and rear cameras, which means that the image processor is using two distinct kinds of depth information. On the back, it's the advantage of two lenses to receive stereoscopic information. The leading camera relies on the depth-sensing hardware. I understand, Samsung's Galaxy Note 9 offers the capability to correct background focus as you're shooting the picture, in addition to after. But, there's a crucial difference here that's evident from the iPhone Xs and Xs Max Depth picture editor. It's a slider that allows you adjust smoothly from an electronic f 1.4 aperture to a virtual f16. In a true camera with a mechanical aperture, the higher amounts interpret to sharper focus in the background and also reduced numbers mean the focus depth is significantly shallower. On the Galaxy Notice 9, Live Focus basically sees the pictures as two planes: the foreground and background. The slider effectively blurs the background plane. The iPhone Xs's depth slider is based on all of the depth advice to decrease or enhance background focus through all of the planes between the front of this subject and the background. Along with the improved Portrait Mode stitching (tackling the way the subject and a fuzzy background fit together), the subtlety of the impact through the array of virtual f-stops is remarkable and, Apple's told me, is modeled on how real lenses together with hardware apertures would influence each image. For most people the smart phone is their sole camera. This puts a pro-level controller at the hands of millions of individuals, who are going to begin taking some really stunning face photos. Soon after shooting regular photos, video, and 4K, I remain impressed with the standard of videos and photos coming out of the Iphone Xs and Xs Max. Sure, it's strange that the bigger Xs Max doesn't, as could be convention, have any improved picture capturing features, however I doubt anyone will be disappointed with the picture quality produced by either brand-new smartphone. There are a couple of other equipment-related enhancements, such as the promised dual-sim technologies which enables multiple telephone numbers (believe work and personal numbers of one telephone ) via the support of eSIM technology. Unlike routine SIMs, you don't need a carrier card only for the carrier to confirm it and enable it on your phone. It is a nice attribute that, for evident reasons, I couldn't test. For audio aficionados, there is also the newest stereo recording and wider-stereo playback. This can be relatively tough to check, and that I sometimes worry my ears aren't good enough to notice what might be a nuanced difference. However, I'd find a way. I listed , in landscape style, some cars driving by. They start on the left of the screen and push to the rightside. In video I recorded with the iPhone Xs, the noise travels from one side of the phone to another. Playback on the iPhone X is loudly yet lacking in the exact same degree of separation. Evidently, films with a lot of sound engineering are not just great displays for the wonderful screens, but highlight the new, wider stereo playback capabilities as well. As hardware/software unions go, you can't do much better than the Apple iPhone Xs and iOS 12. I've been operating betas of the new mobile OS for months on my iPhone X and discovered it impressively smooth and stable. About the iPhone Xs and Xs Max, it becomes even better partners. Besides butter-smooth and light fast operation (in games, video, and web browsing), the augmented reality abilities first unveiled in iOS 11, ARKit, and the iPhone X are far more sophisticated and personalized in iOS 12 along with also the iPhone Xs. The intelligent assistant is a better listener than ever, and getting smarter. Her speech is more conversational and she's asking follow-up queries. Siri can be more hands-on, discovering connections between disparate items like schedules and locations and delivering them in advance. There are also a lot of third-party apps tapping into Siri, letting you use just your voice to access program features and information without so much as launching the program. You may set up iOS 12 on your old iPhone (down into this Iphone 5s), however not all attributes, especially those involving AR, will work on the older devices. Still, I seriously recommend the upgrade with at least anyone conducting an iPhone 7 and up. It's simply a better, more glossy, proactive, and smart user experience also, to be honest, I've hardly scratched the surface of all the upgrades and feature improvements you'll discover. Apple asserts 30 minutes more battery life between the iPhone X and Xs and 90 minutes more with all the iPhone Xs Max. In my experience, either new phone can get you through most of the afternoon on a single charge. I spent one day using only the iPhone Xs Max. I kept the brightness and conducted all kinds of programs and processes. It lasted a solid 10 hours. Maybe just a little bit less than I expected, but still enough for me through the majority of the working day. Really, with under a week under my belt, it's hard to supply a complete assessment of battery performance. There are so many variables and, clearly, battery life will be good on brand new telephones. Speak to me in six months or twelve months, and we are going to see if I'm still pleased with battery lifetime. It is no real surprise that Apple didn't bring down the price for the brand new $999 Iphone Xs (or hold onto the initial version and market it at a lower price). I'm not shocked that we now have an almost $1,100 model or that we're able to pay a whopping $1,449 for your 512 GB iPhone Xs Max (which happens to be the version I tested). Apple's already proven that people will pay virtually anything to get their hands on the most recent iPhone. Is $1,000 or more to cover a smartphone? Maybe, however a lot of us think about the entire cost rather than monthly payments? I am, though, somewhat annoyed that Apple stopped the lightning -to-3.5 millimeter adapter. It's like in the past 12 months, we've all gotten rid of our Beats and Bose cans, such as it's a solved problem. Memo to Apple: It is not. What I can say is that these are the iPhones you want. The iPhone Xs does not mess with what I now consider a traditional design, and the Xs Max only takes all that's amazing about the iPhone X and enlarges it. As a set, they're equally as amazing as the first home-button-free iPhone X. The design looks especially tasteful in a gold finish. Participants will love the new camera, and players and content customers will need the big-display iPhone Xs Max. Even if you have the iPhone X, I still wouldn't update unless you need more realistic augmented experience and full depth control on your own portraits. For iPhone 6s, 8, 7, as well as 8 Plus associates, that the iPhone Xs and Xs Max is going to appear like a huge leap into the coming future.

#smartphones #social media

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a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives · 4 years

Text

Free Sample!

Happy New Year Everyone!

Though the world is on fire and our leaders are useless and the discourse is toxic and the future is uncertain, I hope you found some time over the holidays to sleep in, discover new music, indulge in one or more of life’s temptations and make a few unforgettable memories.

It’s time to kick this lazy blog back into action by sharing a piece from the first chapter of The Last Smile in Sunder City.

A few hours ago, Fetch Phillips received a call from Principal Burbage of Ridgerock Academy asking him to stop by the school so they can discuss a potential case. Though their meeting would happen after the kids had gone home, the principal asked Fetch to arrive a little early so he could witness a special presentation.

We pick up the story as Fetch enters Ridgerock…

It wasn’t my school and I’d never been there before, but the grounds were smeared with a thick coat of nostalgia; the unforgettable aroma of grass-stains, snotty sleeves, fear, confusion and week-old peanut-butter sandwiches.

The red doors were streaked with the accidental graffiti of wayward finger-paint. I pulled them open, took a moment to adjust to the darkness and slipped inside as quietly as I could.

The huge gymnasium doubled as an auditorium. Chairs were stacked neatly on one side, sports equipment spread out around the other. In the middle, warm light from a projector cut through the darkness and highlighted a smooth, white screen. Particles of dust swirled above a hundred hushed kids who whispered to each other from their seats on the floor. I slid up to the back, leaned against the wall and waited for whatever was to come.

A girl squealed. Some boys laughed. Then a mousy man with white hair and large spectacles moved into the light.

‘Settle down, please. The presentation is about to begin.’

I recognized his voice from the phone call.

‘Yes, Mr Burbage,’ the children sang out in unison. The principal approached the projector and the spotlight cut hard lines into his face. Students stirred with excitement as he unboxed a reel of film and loaded it on to the sprocket. The speakers crackled and an over-articulated voice rang out.

‘The Opus is proud to present …’

I choked on my breath mid-inhalation. The Opus were my old employers and we didn’t part company on the friendliest of terms. If this is what Burbage wanted me to see, then he must have known some of my story. I didn’t like that at all.

‘ . . . My Body and Me: Growing Up After the Coda.’

I started to fidget, pulling at a loose thread on my sleeve. The voice-over switched to a male announcer who spoke with that fake, friendly tone I associate with salesmen, con-artists and crooked cops.

‘Hello, everyone! We’re here to talk about your body. Now, don’t get uncomfortable, your body is something truly special and it’s important that you know why.’

One of the kids groaned, hoping for a laugh but not finding it. I wasn’t the only one feeling nervous.

‘Everyone’s body is different, and that’s fine. Being different means being special, and we are all special in our own unique way.’

Two cartoon children came up on the screen: a boy and a girl. They waved to the kids in the audience like they were old friends.

‘You might have something on your body that your friends don’t have. Or maybe they have something you don’t. These differences can be confusing if you don’t understand where they came from.’

The little cartoon characters played along with the voice-over, shrugging in confusion as question marks appeared above their heads. Then they started to transform.

‘Maybe your friend has pointy teeth.’

The girl character opened her mouth to reveal sharp fangs.

‘Maybe you have stumps on the top of your back.’

The animated boy turned around to present two lumps, emerging from his shoulder blades.

‘You could be covered in beautiful brown fur or have more eyes than your classmates. Do you have shiny skin? Great long legs? Maybe even a tail? Whatever you are, whoever you are, you are special. And you are like this for a reason.’

The image changed to a landscape: mountains, rivers and plains, all painted in the style of an innocent picture book.

Even though the movie made a great effort to hide it, I knew damn well that this story wasn’t a happy one.

‘Since the beginning of time, our world has gained its power from a natural energy that we call magic. Magic was part of almost every creature that walked the lands. Wizards could use it to perform spells. Dragons and Gryphons flew through the air. Elves stayed young and beautiful for centuries. Every creature was in tune with the spirit of the world and it made them different. Special. Magical.

‘But six years ago, maybe before some of you were even born, there was an incident.’

The thread came loose on my sleeve as I pulled too hard. I wrapped it tight around my finger.

‘One species was not in tune with the magic of the planet: the Humans. They were envious of the power they saw around them, so they tried to change things.’

A familiar pain stabbed the left side of my chest, so I reached into my jacket for my medicine: a packet of Clayfield Heavies. Clayfields are a mass-produced version of a painkiller that people in these parts have used for centuries. Essentially, they’re pieces of bark from a recus tree, trimmed to the size of a toothpick. I slid one thin twig between my teeth and bit down as the film rolled on.

‘To remedy their natural inferiority, the Humans made machines. They invented a wide variety of weapons, tools and strange devices, but it wasn’t enough. They knew their machines would never be as powerful as the magical creatures around them.

‘Then, the Humans heard a story, a legend that told of a sacred mountain where the magical river inside the planet rose up to meet the surface; a doorway that led right into the heart of the world. This ancient myth gave the Humans an idea.’

The image flipped to an army of angry soldiers brandishing swords and torches and pushing a giant drill.

‘Seeking to capture the natural magic of the planet for themselves, the Human Army invaded the mountain and defeated its protectors. Then, hoping that they could use the power of the river for their own desires, they plugged their machines straight into the soul of our world.’

I watched the simple animation play out the events that have come to be known as the Coda.

The children watched in silence as the cartoon army moved their forces on to the mountain. On screen, it looked as simple as sliding a chess piece across a board. They didn’t hear the screams. They didn’t smell the fires. They didn’t see the bloodshed. The bodies.

They didn’t see me.

‘The Human army sent their machines into the mountain but when they tried to harness the power of the river, something far more terrible happened. The shimmering river of magic turned from mist to solid crystal. It froze. The heart of the world stopped beating and every magical creature felt the change.’

I could taste bile in my mouth.

‘Dragons plummeted from the sky. Elves aged centuries in seconds. Werewolves’ bodies became unstable, leaving them deformed. The magic drained from the creatures of the world. From all of us. And it has stayed that way ever since.’

In the darkness, I saw heads turn. Tiny little bodies examined themselves, then turned to inspect their neighbors. Their entire world was now covered in a sadness that the rest of us had been seeing for the last six years.

‘You may still bear the greatness of what you once were. Wings, fangs, claws and tails are your gifts from the great river. They herald back to your ancestors and are nothing to be ashamed of.’

I bit down on the Clayfield too hard and it snapped in half. Somewhere in the crowd, a kid was crying.

‘Remember, you may not be magic, but you are still … special.’

The film ripped off the projector and spun around the wheel, wildly clicking a dozen times before finally coming to a stop. Burbage flicked on the lights but the children stayed silent as stone.

‘Thank you for your attention. If you have any questions about your body, your species or life before the Coda, your parents and teachers will be happy to talk them through with you.’

As Burbage wrapped up the presentation, I tried my best to sink into the wall behind me. A stream of sweat had settled on my brow and I dabbed at it with an old handkerchief. When I looked up, an inquisitive pair of eyes were examining me.

They were foggy green with tiny pinprick pupils: Elvish. Young. The face was old, though. Elvish skin has no elasticity. Not anymore. The bags under the boy’s eyes were worthy of a decade without sleep, but he couldn’t have been more than five. His hair was white and lifeless and his tiny frame was all crooked. He wore no real expression, just looked right into my soul.

And I swear,

He knew.

TO BE CONTINUED…

There we go. Yeah, it’s a bit of exposition but now that you have an idea of the world, we can launch into the rest of it.

More pieces coming soon!

P.S. If you’re reading this before Saturday 11th of Feb, I’m auctioning off a signed first edition of The Last Smile in Sunder City and a half-hour Skype chat for #AuthorsForFireys on twitter. Check out @longlukearnold if you want to join the bidding.

- LukeArnold. net

#luke arnold #luke spam #blog #update #the last smile in sunder city

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thetriggeredhappy · 5 years

Note

9 “My head hurts.” for Speedingbullet ~ also you're now my new fav fic author

thank you very much, you’re very sweet!! (warnings for me being mean to scout again)

9.) “My head hurts.”

Sniper really didn’t intend for things to go the way he did. He really didn’t mean any harm. Honest.

Before he joined the team, Sniper was aware of the concept of pranks and whatnot, sure, but he’d never really been subjected to any, or done them to other people. He didn’t go to college (a place where, allegedly according to Engie, pranks happen a lot) and he didn’t technically finish his last year of required schooling and even before that the closest thing to a “prank” that his classmates would do was essentially beat him up. Black eyes and bruises and bloody noses were their idea of a hilarious after-school activity to rope him into.

But on the base, he was introduced to actual pranks. The inside of Demo’s eyepatch being coated in syrup while he’s asleep, Soldier’s helmet being covered in dozens of sparkly stickers, plastic wrap over the door to the kitchen, things like that. Things that were actually a bit funny and not anything worse than annoying and inconvenient to the person being pranked.

At some point, Scout, main prank-maker of the team (years of experience under his belt, apparently) had tried to get Sniper. Salt in the sugar bowl. He’d sat down with coffee, the terrible “acquired taste” stuff that Spy occasionally drank because he mysteriously couldn’t find the normal stuff, and put a spoon’s worth into his mug to make it more bearable. Stirred it. He hadn’t noticed what Scout’s expression was until he lifted the mug to take a sip and made eye contact over the rim. Absolute interest in what Sniper was doing, just a smidge too much to be normal, and no focus at all on the bowl of cereal before him, which just wasn’t normal.

He took his sip, and it was only with that suspicion in the back of his head that he managed to keep from making a face at the taste of it. And then Sniper had a choice to make, and he did so quickly.

He drank the entire mug without flinching. Scout’s confusion rose with every bob of his adam’s apple.

“Something on my face?” Sniper asked neutrally when he put the empty mug down again, the very picture of normalcy.

“Uh,” Scout said, and shook himself from his shock, “I, uh, no. No, you’re good.”

A few beats passed, then Scout picked up the sugar bowl, glancing down at it. He hummed to himself, tipping a bit into his cereal, then putting it down and taking a bite.

He choked immediately, then looked up at Sniper, who was trying very hard not to laugh. “Oh, fuck you.”

That had been the beginning of a little prank war between the two of them.

Scout had done plenty of things. A glitter bomb from an envelope that looked just like the envelopes they received with information for contracts. Taken about half a dozen stray cats from the nearby town and put them all in Sniper’s camper while he was in the base doing laundry. Replaced all the cans of beans and soup that he had stocked up in case of emergencies big or small with cans of brussel sprouts. Given Engie twenty dollars to make a tiny little device that made a little beeping noise every two minutes and fifteen seconds, and promptly hidden it under Sniper’s mattress, driving him bonkers for a total of an hour and a half before he finally found it. It was worth noting that Sniper did lock his door, the little bugger just knew how to pick locks apparently.

Sniper’s major form of retribution for most of the pranks was to act either like it didn’t bother him or like he enjoyed what Scout did. He ended up cooking the brussel sprouts for dinner one day, and talked to Scout about how friendly all the cats were and what their names now were, and Scout was clearly extremely annoyed to see Sniper acting completely normal when he went to battle the day after the beeper incident. But for pranks like the glitter bomb, which left him in a sparkly uniform when he went to dinner, he did feel the need to deliver actual retribution.

Which is why he put an armadillo in Scout’s room. And a small non-venomous snake in Scout’s room after he then started locking his door. And the friendly owl that liked to pester Sniper for snacks in Scout’s room through the window when he asked Demo for help moving his door slightly closer to the floor. He just found that Scout tended to react a lot to animals and kept running with it.

Also he broke Scout’s door once, but to be fair that wasn’t part of a prank. That was a different thing. Which was only tangentially Sniper’s fault technically sort of. He apologized. He got a second glitter bomb.

And admittedly, their little prank war had died down a bit after that, mainly because they’d gotten on somewhat friendlier terms somehow during the mayhem. He wound up talking to Scout occasionally, the younger man just sitting himself down when Sniper was making a campfire or otherwise sitting outside his camper and doing things. In return, sometimes he tried to say hello to Scout when he passed him in the rec room. But then Sniper had suddenly been faced with what he thought was the perfect opportunity.

He’d been out doing his shopping, having headed to a bigger town to get some more specific things that he needed that weren’t easy to find elsewhere, when he’d seen it. The energy drinks Scout chugged like water most of the time, big palettes’ worth of them. Three different flavors, although he’d only ever seen Scout drinking two.

And next to them, the same three again. He walked closer, pondering if maybe Scout would appreciate getting a bulk package of the drinks instead of having to do a twice-weekly run to the store in town to buy a few six-packs. And he’d picked up one of the packs, looked it over, and noticed a little blurb written on it.

“Caffeine-free!”

The plan hit him almost immediately, and he moved to start piling cans into the cart he’d gotten.

From there it was simple—a trick he’d learned years and years before from an oddball “friend” to sneak alcohol into concerts. Sealed drinks being all that was allowed, he learned how to open cans and close them again without it looking any different. It was the work of an afternoon to empty out the cans of Bonk! into the sand (both the Cola and the Fruit Punch flavors just to cover all his bases) and replace them with the caffeine-free versions. Then he waited for the next time they did a supply run, and put it in with the rest of the groceries.

But then, things got… strange.

Scout was fine that first day, a Friday, not particularly groggy at all. During the lunch break in the middle of the day he chugged a good bit more of the soda than even he was usually known for, and didn’t eat anything else, but otherwise acted about the same.

By Monday, things had taken a significant dive.

He first noticed that Scout was almost late. That was extremely strange for him. Scout was usually among the first to report, and would mingle and pester the rest of the team. But instead, he was dashing in five minutes before they were headed onto the field, sleeves not even rolled properly and one shoe untied, looking completely out of it. He stammered an apology, then set about fixing his whole situation.

Through his scope, Sniper kept cursory track over the team so he’d be able to know whether someone could feasibly be passing by or if it was a spy. And what he saw of Scout was funny for a little bit, but quickly grew worrying, and then terribly guilt-inducing.

Scout was fully off his game, running erratically but in a way that was clearly unintentional, getting his attention diverted by sounds of gunfire only to miss the sounds much closer to him. His chatter on the comms was limited, and Sniper caught sight of him getting gunned down over and over and over again.

When the mid-day break was called, a bit earlier than usual, his first sighting of the kid since that morning was of him sitting on a crate, elbows on his knees, head held tight in his hands, talking quietly to Medic, who looked extremely concerned about the situation. Within a few moments the scene had brought over Engie and Demo, and everyone looked fairly grim.

Spy noted the scene happening, then glanced at Sniper, and his posture went rigid at Sniper’s expression. Presumably it was one of guilt, because that’s what was rapidly overtaking Sniper.

“What did you do?” Spy asked sharply, voice a hiss.

“Nothing,” Sniper said quickly, defensively.

All at once, Spy was stood just behind him, a hand on his shoulder, the other holding a knife in the bend of his back, cutting through the stitch of his vest and pressing hard enough to make Sniper’s heart skip a few beats. “Interesting answer. Because our local little idiot has been feeling horribly, terribly under the weather all day, and this is rapidly becoming the sort of problem that gets him in trouble with noteworthy individuals,” he said, voice the kind of lighthearted that made Sniper aware that he was probably about to be killed if he so much as stuttered. Then the weight of what Spy was saying to him sunk in, and he paled in realization. Scout could get in very real trouble for such a drop in numbers. Very, very real trouble. And in their line of business, bad things usually happened to those who got in trouble with their employers. “I just found it interesting, the way you were staring at him just now.”

“I didn’t mean any harm,” he managed, voice hoarse. “Really, I didn’t!”

“I’m going to ask you this exactly once, bushman,” Spy said, voice low now. “What. Did. You. Poison him with?”

A pause. “Oh! No, no, mate, you’ve got it wrong, I—I didn’t poison him! I just—“

The slightest bit of additional pressure from the knife.

“Really! I just switched out that caffeine nonsense he drinks for the same stuff but without the caffeine. It was just supposed to be a prank, I, I didn’t think he would get like this. Figured he’d be a bit groggy and that’s all!”

Spy swore to himself under his breath. “You’re an idiot, bushman,” he hissed. He shoved Sniper a step forward. “Go explain to him what you did. Now.”

Sniper did walk over.

Medic had moved away to talk quietly with Demo, but Engie was still there, sitting next to Scout, a comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked up as Sniper approached, giving him a little, worried smile.

“Er,” Sniper said, fidgeting with his hands for a second before just sticking his thumbs into his pockets. “Scout, can I talk to you for a mo’?”

Scout hummed out a little noise like agreement.

Sniper glanced at Engie again, who took a moment before he realized what Sniper meant and went to get up and give them space. He gave Scout one more pat on the shoulder before he went.

Sniper took his place, hands to himself. “Er. So… you’re not doin’ so well,” Sniper tried.

Scout groaned, shoulders sinking further. “I dunno what the fuck is wrong. This shouldn’t be happening,” he said, voice quiet. “I’m fuckin’ dying over here.”

“Yeah?” Sniper asked, guilt corroding at him quicker by the minute.

“My head hurts,” Scout started. “I feel like I’m gonna throw up. My hands won’t stop shaking and I can barely reload a gun. I didn’t sleep at all last night or the night before that or the night before that and I can’t get a good breath in and I feel like I’m five fuckin’ seconds away from freaking out. Just the usual gunshots and screaming make me start shaking even worse and basically I fuckin’ hate everything right now an’ wanna die. I felt like shit all weekend too but it’s just getting worse and worse.”

Sniper swallowed hard.

“And I dunno what the fuck the issue is, I—I only ever start gettin’ shaky and gross feeling whenever I go without getting caffeine for a few days, and, and I’ve drank like three cans and kept ‘em down and everything and I—I dunno the fuck else to do,” Scout said, and there was an underlying kind of distress, dismay, panic, misery that made Sniper fold in on himself.

“Didn’t realize… you needed it that much,” Sniper said carefully.

Scout sighed, his breath leaving him almost explosively. “Yeah, because I didn’t want nobody to know. Only the Doc was supposed to know, because we kept tryin’ all kinds of meds but none of ‘em worked right, and we figured out if I just drink a fuck ton of caffeine it works better than most meds. So he found some stuff with a ridiculous amount of the stuff and now I drink it all the time or I can’t think right or do anything.” A second sigh, and Scout looked like he was trying to melt and sink into the ground. “And now everybody knows that I’m a fuckin’ idiot who can’t do shit or think right without drinkin’ enough liquid energy to give a bear a heart attack. And I’m maybe having the worst day ever and I just wanna go curl up and down half a bottle of headache meds and try and sleep until everything stops sucking so much.”

Sniper was pretty sure he was going to keel over dead.

“But hey,” Scout said, a dreary, sarcastic attempt at optimism in his voice, and lifted his head enough to look at Sniper, and he hadn’t noticed earlier, but his face was pale and his eyes had bags and circles under them that may as well have been bruises they were so dark. “At least you’re over here. Talkin’ to me. That’s really not like you. Good to know you give that much of a shit about me to come listen to me whine.”

Sniper had to look away, squeeze his eyes shut.

“Anyways, you said you wanted to talk to me?” Scout asked, putting on a terribly brave face despite how objectively horrible he was feeling.

“It was me.”

A pause. Sniper couldn’t look up. “What?”

“It was me. I switched your Bonk! out for some caffeine-free rubbish.”

Another, different pause. “You what?” Scout asked, voice quiet.

“It was meant to just be a prank,” Sniper said, head falling to his hand. “I thought you’d get all drowsy for a little while, be sleepy and a bit off your game and confused. I didn’t mean to make you feel this sick, and… and I’m sorry.”

Silence for a good minute or so. “Snipes, I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

Sniper nodded. “I’d deserve it,” he conceded, glum.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” Sniper got shoved, and was sent sprawling on the dirt. “You fuck! I can’t believe you!”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Sniper tried, sitting up.

“God damn it if you weren’t so cute I’d break you right now!” Scout exclaimed, bat in hand, red-faced and positively fuming.

“You think I’m cute?” Sniper asked, a bit surprised.

“Not the topic of conversation right now! You’re a bastard!”

Sniper fell back onto the dirt, staring up at the sky. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

“You owe me,” Scout declared.

“I know.”

“Big time,” Scout added.

“I know.”

“You’re takin’ me out after we clock out today and you’re buying me more soda and then you’re getting me dinner,” Scout finished.

“That sounds fair.’

“…Fuck you,” Scout said once more before he stormed off.

Sniper remained on the ground for another few moments, silent.

“…Cute?” he repeated to himself quietly.

#speeding bullet #sniperscout #tf2 #team fortress 2 #shut up me #my fanfiction #my writing #as a person with adhd this is genuinely a thing that can happen if your meds get fucked up especially if youre on Strong Ones

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