Your comment about Chicago decaying made me think of the Dresden Files, & how Harry remarks that Chicago is built on Chicago, bc the swampy ground means everything is slowly sinking. How true is this?
100% true. Chicago is built on a swamp, predominantly between a river and a lake. Supposedly “Chi ka gua” means “swamp of the stinking onions” in a local indigenous language (I thiiiiiink the Potawatomi but I could be mistaken, don’t quote me).
Prior to the introduction of the grillage in Chicago architecture – again don’t quote me but I believe a Chicago architect invented the grillage to deal with Chicago’s unique challenges – high-rise (for the time) buildings would be constructed with a built-in “sink” measurement, usually between eight and eighteen inches. Ground-level doors were placed slightly above ground level with the expectation that over the course of a year or two, the building would sink as it settled into the swampy soil. If you go to the Rookery Building on a Wednesday and take the Chicago Architectural Society tour they will take you into the service corridors of the building, which is pre-grillage, and you can see the frankly fascinating ways in which the floor of the building warped as it settled.
A grillage is a series of steel beams layered across one another horizontally, which works a little like a raft, allowing a building to “float” on Chicago’s swampy soil; most buildings from the last century, including the one I live in, have a grillage underneath them. Someday a big earthquake is going to hit and it’s going to look awesome from somewhere other than inside Chicago.
Additionally, the “Streeterville” neighborhood is named for a pirate and all-round asshole named Streeter who basically salvaged and dumped any goddamn rubbish he could find around a sandbar in the lake until he had literally extended Chicago out into the lake in a large enough swath to create an entirely new neighborhood, which is now one of the most expensive areas to live in. That part of Chicago is very literally built on Chicago, as I believe one of the sources of his rubbish was haul-off from the Great Chicago Fire.
And to conclude there are parts of Chicago, just south of Streeterville, where factories creating very toxic byproducts dumped industrial waste, so part of Chicago is literally radioactive and you can’t build there without extensive soil studies being done to make sure you won’t kick up the radioactive dust and poison everything in the immediate vicinity.
Chicago’s municipal motto, by the way, is “Urbs in Horto” which translates as “The City in the Garden”.
Sirius Black was
without a single doubt the most handsome boy in Hogwarts. His black hair
wouldn’t be half as special if it wasn’t so long and shiny – but it was, and
that made him look ten times as hot whenever he flipped it to the side –, and his
grey eyes set him apart from everyone else, reminding you of foggy mornings
where you could get lost in a book as much as you could get lost in his eyes.
However, no one’s perfect – not even Sirius, as much as he would like to think
to his looks is his personality. Many times you thought he was part cactus, it
was the only explanation you could find to him being such a prick. He was
childish, inconsiderate, sometimes a bit rude, and also the biggest flirt in
the history of magic. And the latter would be fine, if he hadn’t dated every
single girl in school, breaking most of their hearts. Countless times you
wondered if it bothered him – if he felt guilty – but after seven years of
watching him carelessly handle people’s hearts you figured he didn’t have an
ounce of compassion in his body.
As you wish. It isn’t terribly long, and I must be vague, because I believe with specifics it would be far too easy to find me. But here it is.
Where I currently reside, there was a small problem. That being that when the first settlers came here and began building, they neglected to look into tides. They built things on the flats, and didn’t bother to check with the natives if that might be a bad idea. So it was that by the close of the first decade of our town’s history, most of the critical buildings and main streets of town were knee deep in water half of the day.
It didn’t really trouble too many working people, because the mill was down there and the water was somewhat of a help in floating logs about (we slid them down a muddy street and into the water, floating them into their milling stations - the birth of the phrase “Skid Row”). But everyone else hated it. Especially when the first indoor plumbing appeared and the rising tides caused suction to the one exit pipe. Toilets, one large drainage pipe, suction. You can imagine that flushing during certain times of day was also quite a bad idea.
Anyway, as so often happens, along came a fire. Burned down the whole bloody thing. And the town leaders took it as an opportunity. Plans were put into effect to artificially raise the streets and create a kind of architectural honeycomb beneath them to ensure that the flooding had an outlet - a city on stone stilts. Despite this plan, private builders began reconstruction of buildings on the original street level. It didn’t matter, because the truth is, the elevation of the streets would take a very long time, and business had to go on.
So it was that stone structures sprang up, with fine doorways and decorations. Masons, like myself, built up the substructure for the new street levels in a kind of barricade, such that streets would look less like roads and more like a series of canals dried up. A building, a narrow passage, a wall, the inner workings of the streets, then another retainer wall, another passage, and the building across the street. Pedestrians had to leave a building, climb a ladder, walk a narrow bridge, drop down a ladder and then cross the passage to get into the building across the street. After the sub-works and buttresses were completed with masonry, we back-filled the street channel to create additional support, put paving on it, then bricked over the sidewalk passages, cutting the lower stories of the buildings off. Windows became doorways, and now there is a catacombs beneath the feet of the average pedestrian that many of them never know about.
Now we come to the eyes.
Around the time that we determined the street works were complete, we realized we didn’t have anything to put in them. No back-fill. We turned to industry. “Come dump rubbish here, but please, nothing that can degrade.” Local factories and whatnot were more than welcome to dump their refuse into the hollows between the retainer walls. Machinery, masonry, beams, offcast bits, loads and loads of rubbish to build up the center. But also, to make a sort of time capsule. I now recall that there was a factory, tiny though it was, that made glass eyes for dolls and the like. I think it went out of business around the turn of the century, but it was, as I recall, up and running about this time.
But you can imagine what a stark impression it made upon the street construction crew in this century, when they opened up a part of that street works to repair it and uncovered a pit of thousands of glass eyes. They’re no strangers to the odd bits of our history, and it is common practice to leave the pits open to the archaeologists among you for a brief time. Some items are retrieved, and some covered over again, assuming that some large problem doesn’t need to be repaired. A pit of eyeballs, however, is a bit of a strange outlier.
When i read about it in the paper, I think I laughed myself hoarse. I had no idea glass eyes had ever been dumped in the street works, because I was not working in that location at that time. It did however give me a fit, imagining these poor blokes standing about in their reflective vests and hard hats, looking down at the street, looking back up at them from a thousand little glittering peepers.
Monet on the Run - 2. Refusals In 1868, the Jury of the Paris Salon had still admitted Monet’s work to the Salon, but when the exhibition was rearranged mid-way to spotlight the medal winners and the government purchases, his paintings were moved to a remote gallery, known as the ‘dépotoir’ or rubbish dump. The entries of his friends Renoir and Bazille suffered the same fate. One year later, Monet’s submissions didn’t even pass the Jury’s verdict. To a large extent, he could blame it on Jean-Louis Gérome, a successful academic painter and an influential member of the Jury.
was Monet’s other refused work of that year. Today, it is considered to be one of Monet’s best snowscapes (and there are about 140 of those).
Claude Monet, La Pie (The magpie), 1869. Oil on canvas, 89 x 130 cm. Musée d’Orsay, Paris
On 11th July 1990, twenty-three-year-old Sarah MacDiarmid disappeared from a railway station in Melbourne, Australia. She has not been seen since. Police do believe that she met with foul play, and consider her dead but have vowed to never stop looking for her.
The last time anyone saw Sarah, she was heading to her vehicle in a dimly lit car park. This was around 10:20 PM. Later, numerous people would come forward to say that around this time they had heard a female voice yell out “Give me back my keys!”.
More than 250 police officers were involved in 21-day air, sea and land search for Sarah, but no trace of her could be discovered. Suspects did involve the convicted Australian serial killer Paul Denyer but he denied any involvement. Psychics have suggested that she had been murdered and her body discarded in a rubbish dump, but as far as anyone knows, there is no evidence to support this theory.
In 2004, the government, along with an anonymous benefactor, offered the reward of $1,000,000 for any information that solves the mystery of what happened to Sarah.
If you have any information, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, please contact Crime Stoppers on 1800 333 000.
Imagine if murdoc and s/o were doing somthing (I dunno whatever you think) but s/o did something wrong by accident and murdoc got like SUPER angry and makes s/o cry? (You can end it happy if you want?)
(angst? on MY blog? it’s more likely than you think)
(ALSO this is kind of abusive?? he’s horrible in this fic lol sorry)
Murdoc had been on edge lately. It wasn’t that he was being intentionally cruel but he was picking more fights and was in a constant bad mood. You’d chalked it up to work and the stress of the new album and it was some what understandable. It still didn’t change the fact that you were walking on eggshells around him. He was distant and even when you tried to cheer him up he seemed cold and uninterested. It was like he didn’t know you, you couldn’t tell if you were just being sensitive or if you felt like you should be angry.
Whenever he got into one of these moods the house would turn into a rubbish dump. The place was filled with empty beer bottles, discarded takeaway boxes and rejected song lyrics. You hated living like this and you decided that you should at least clean up a bit. It was early afternoon and he still wasn’t up, he was probably still pissed you thought to yourself. You started picking up all the glass bottles, placing them on the side. You were washing the dishes when you heard movements upstairs. Well at least he was up. You dried your hands up and headed to the cupboard to get the vacuum cleaner. You passed each other in the hallway and you couldn’t even make eye contact with him. You got the vacuum out and plugged it in. When you turned it on you could hear Murdoc groan.
“Do you really need to hoover this early?”
“Its 1:30pm,” you shot back.
“It’s giving me a head ache turn it off!”
“Well thats what you get for getting drunk every night this week.” You weren’t even bothered with keeping your cool, you were mad and there was no hiding it.
“Oh don’t be a bitch, not right now.” He went over to the outlet and yanked the plug out of its socket.
“MURDOC WHAT THE FU-” You were interrupted by the sound of glass shattering. You’d knocked over most of the bottles you’d placed on the side earlier. You jumped and turned to Murdoc, who clearly wasn’t happy.
“OH FOR FUCKS SAKE!” He turned away and punched the nearest wall.
“Murdoc?” You said warily. He turned back to you with eyes filled with venom. He stormed towards you backing you into the wall.
“YOU ALWAYS FUCKING DO THIS. YOU ACT ALL HIGH AND MIGHTY AND WIND ME UP AND I’M FUCKING SICK OF IT YOU SELF RIGHTEOUS COW. I WORK MY ARSE OFF FOR YOU AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME YOU SELFISH COW!” Hot tears were streaming down your face. He’d never been like this with you before and you felt trapped. You almost expected him to whack you across the head.
“Murdoc please,” you whispered. He backed away and ran his hands through his hair.
“Murdoc don’t be like this.”
“Get out and don’t come back.” You were distraught but there was nothing you could do you grabbed your coat not daring to look back at him. He’s made his choice.
GREECE. Lesbos. Mithymna. March 10, 2016. A stray cat walks on used life vests lying on a makeshift rubbish dump hidden in the hills. Local authorities had started to clean the beaches of life vests and destroyed dinghies used by refugees and migrants after crossing the sea from Turkey to Lesbos.
On September 26, 2014, 43 students from the Raúl Isidro Burgos Rural Teachers College of Ayotzinapa went missing in Iguala, Guerrero, Mexico.
According to official reports, they had travelled to Iguala that day to hold a protest for what they considered discriminatory hiring and funding practices by the government. During the journey the local police intercepted them and a confrontation ensued. Details of what happened during and after the clash remain unclear, but the official investigation concluded that once the students were in custody, they were handed over to the Guerreros Unidos crime syndicate and presumably killed.
Mexican authorities believe that Iguala mayor José Luis Abarca Velázquez and his wife María de los Ángeles Pineda Villa were the probable masterminds of the abduction. Both of them became fugitives after the incident along with the town’s police chief Felipe Flores Velásquez. The couple was arrested about a month later in Mexico City. The mass kidnapping of the students quickly snowballed into the biggest political and public security scandal Mexican President Enrique Peña Nieto had faced in his administration. It led to massive protests all across Mexico, particularly in the state of Guerrero and Mexico City, and condemnations at a global scale.
A mass grave, initially believed to contain the charred bodies of 28 of the students, was discovered near Iguala on October 5, 2014. They had been tortured and, according to reports, burned alive, three gang members confessed to loading them on to trucks, murdering them at a landfill, burning their bodies and dumping their remains in a river.
“The detainees pointed out that in this area they took the lives of the survivors and then they put them under the rubbish dump where they burnt the bodies.”They took shifts so that the fire lasted hours, using diesel, petrol, tires, plastic.”
Subsequent reports raised the estimate of the number of found bodies to 34.
On October 14, police announced that forensic tests had shown that none of the 28 bodies from the first mass grave corresponded to the missing students, but the same day four additional graves, with an unknown number of bodies, were discovered.
Many protesters in Mexico City carried handmade banners with the words Ya me cansé (“I’ve Had Enough” or “I’m Tired”), in reference to a comment made by Mexico’s attorney general, Jesús Murillo, at the end of the press conference on Friday.
The phrase has been turned on its head to express public exhaustion with both the violence that has taken hold in many parts of Mexico, where organised criminal activity is protected by corrupt authorities, as well as the federal government’s failure to act against it, which many believe underpins the events in Iguala.
Protesters also chanted: “It was the state”, in an effort to push home the message that the federal authorities have yet to accept the depth of the institutional crisis exposed by the apparent massacre.
Please don’t believe when they say that the 43 missing students of Ayotzinapa were brutally murdered. The government has not presented any physical proofs.
The parents of the missing boys have not accepted the government’s explanation, arguing that it is merely a strategy to shut them down. They demand the truth, the Mexican state is a criminal state, and it will do anything to shake this case off.
We demand that the truth about Mexico has to be told, our media is partial to our corrupt government, but we have social media and we have our streets, we will march, we will protest, we will not remain silent.
These 43 students are not the first ones and we know they won’t be the last ones.We are tired of a repressor, murderer and corrupt government that kills its own people.
DON’T LEAVE US ALONE. WE COULD CHANGE. WE COULD SAVE LIVES, WE NEED EACH OTHER.
*The heroine is playing card game with the Sakamaki Triplets*
Ayato: Oih, chichinashi! Don’t hesitate! Just pull out one quickly! Whichever you pull, it’s settled that you’ll be left with the Joker actually. *laugh* *The heroine pull out one card* !! Chichinashi… For a mere flat-chested you could dodge to pull the Joker!
Kanato: Next is me, right? Well, because I know that the Joker is on Ayato, in one round I know where the Joker is. I could pull one card from this blockhead in peace.
Raito: Right, right, next is me. Geez… because Ayato declare that he himself has the Joker, there’s no tension in the game. How boring~ Ufu…
Ayato: Damn! Next I’ll make chichinashi to pull it out! HERE!! Yosh, chichinashi, it’s your turn! Now, take one! Take my Joker away!! Not that one! It’s on the right side! Take that card!!
Subaru: Hah… Playing Old Maid? How stupid! Moreover you’re all pressing her to be the old maid? So ridiculous! What’s so fun about it?
Kanato: *chuckle* Subaru, you want to join us?
Subaru: Ha? Don’t joke around! Who wants to play such a stupid game!
Shuu: Oi… so noisy… geez… the Rachmaninoff  is spoiled! What should I do now? Ha? What the hell with you… what a brave! You told me to play Old Maid with you all? Ridiculous! I’m not interested! If you really want me to join, you have to plead me here.
Raito: As usual, what an unreasonable thing to say, Shuu.
Shuu: There is no man in this residence who is not a tyrant, right?
Raito: *laugh* Well, you’re right.
Subaru: That’s true. All of us are deserved to be hit.
Raito: Wait, wait Subaru-kun. What are you saying to your Onii-chan?
Subaru: *smirk* Onii-chan?? I never think of you like my brothers at all!
Kanato: Hey, Subaru. What do you think of me?
Subaru: HUH??? You… You’re… well… what is it?
Ayato: Then… you want to him to think of you as his Onii-chan, Kanato?
Kanato: *chuckle* I’d love to… It’s kind of nice, right? To be called as Onii-chan.
*suddenly Reiji walk in*
Reiji: *sigh* what is this of worthless quarrel are you all up to at this kind of time?
Ayato: ‘At this kind of time’? Is there something happening?
Reiji: Kind of. Well, it might be only a prank. Please take a look at this. This thing was stuck in with a knife on the entrance door.
Raito: Hmm what is it? ‘I will kill all vampires’? What is this?
Ayato: Is that… something called a threat letter?
Reiji: Well, I think it’s a prank. But, this person knew that there are vampires live in this residence? Or is it just a coincidence?
Shuu: It can’t be just a coincidence. This residence have been called a haunted manor, but never been called as a vampire manor. You know that, right? So troublesome.
Subaru: Ha… who’s so obliviously do such a stupid thing?? *crashing into something*
Reiji: Wait Subaru, don’t break the chair. Well, the ones that cross my mind is just ‘them’.
Kanato: The ones who know that we’re vampires and know that we live in this residence… it’s ‘them’ right?
Ayato: Huh? Are there some people who know that? What is it, chichinashi? Huh? Mukami? Ah… you’re right. They know it. I almost forgot.
Raito: Mukami family? But do they need to stick the threat on the door?
Shuu: Aren’t they want to lit up an action from us? So dull…
Subaru: Whatever! I won’t easily let them off. Huh? No violence? Shut up! You’re in danger too! …!! They might snatch your blood away!!!
Raito: Ahaha… Subaru-kun you’ve just say something embarrassing.
Subaru: SHUT THE FUCK UP!
Reiji: Calm down! Hm.. well, if it’s their doing, then we don’t need to be worried. We can live as usual.
Raito: Right~ If we react through this, they might take advantage of it.
Reiji: Well, just be careful. We don’t want something happen like in the limousine before. You… what’s wrong? You seem awfully worried. Eh? This paper? What would you do? Well it’s fine. I’m not happy about it but, please get rid of it properly.
*Meanwhile at Mukami’s Residence*
Kou: Ru~ki~kun. Hey, can I have your time for a moment?
Ruki: What is it, Kou? I’m in the middle of reading.
Kou: I’m sorry to bother you, but I want you to look at this.
Ruki: Hm? What is it?
Azusa: ‘I will kill all vampires’ is written there. *suddenly appearing*
Kou: HUA… Azusa-kun! Since when you’re behind me?
Azusa: He? I was here all the time. Hey, Kou… what does it mean? It looks like a threat. You think so too right, Justy(?)?
Ruki: Right. Justy seems to agree, that is a wound in your arm!!
Kou: Ruki-kun is going along with his stupidity!
Ruki: Who the hell did this? They’re quite brave threatening to kill us.
Yuuma: That must be ‘them’, right?
Kou: Yuuma-kun, you think so too?
Yuuma: No doubt!! The ones who know that we’re vampires and be able to sniff out that we’re here is only them!
Ruki: It’s a declaration of war. *smirk* I think we should take a preventive measure.
Kou: *chuckle*Hey, hey Ruki-kun. Should we start a war with them?
Azusa: Does it hurt? Hey… then me too… *chuckle*
Yuuma: Well, if we do it, that woman might come too.
Ruki: We shouldn’t be haste. We have to think about their move carefully.
Kou: But, if we hesitant they might kill us.
Ruki: Well, there might a lot of simple minded person in Sakamaki household, but there are also some people who can use their head properly. You all don’t want to recklessly act, right?
Yuuma: If Ruki said so then it can’t be helped. I think that it’s a good chance to get rid of some annoying people though.
Ruki: You can preserve your energy for now. Sooner or later our chance to crash them will come anyway.
Azusa: Hah… I can’t wait for it… I want to be hit quickly…
Kou: Azusa-kun please stop saying something like that.
Ruki: Kou, it’s no use. Let Azusa do as he please. At any rate, don’t lay your hand on them without my permission. Got it?
Kou: Okaaay. Then, let’s dump this threat on rubbish bin.
Ruki: Kou, wait. Let me take that.
Kou: Huh? Well it’s fine though. What? You’re planning to investigate it?
Ruki: To cut it short I want to look for who send this to us. We can make sure who’s the culprit is.
Yuuma: As expected from Ruki. We count on you.
*The heroine run away and entered the room*
Raito: Hm? Bitch-chan, what’s wrong? To run in a hurry like that. Moreover you’re kind of trembling. Are you okay? Calm down. It’s unusual for you to be so frightened and tremble like this. Eh? You asked where Reiji is? Reiji is…
Reiji: *opening the door* What business you have with me? The tea is already set too. Ah…good grief, how disgraceful. You’re run out of breath. Calm down. Now, sit down here. Drink this tea. First, you should calm your breath. After that you can talk to me.
Subaru: *barging in* Hey you!! What happen???
Raito: Ufu… Subaru-kun. Because you feel that there’s something wrong with her, you flustered and come here quickly.
Subaru: Shut up!!! It’s not like that!!
Reiji: Fine, fine. Subaru you should calm down too. Seems like there’s something bad happen to her. I’ll call the others.
Raito: Bitch-chan, to calm you down, should I give you a chu-chu? Ufu~
Subaru: Heck! What the hell is chu-chu? You’re so gross!! *kicking into something*
Reiji: Subaru! I told you don’t kick the chair! Didn’t you think that if you break it someone has to order the new one? Don’t increase my work!
Shuu: I finally could sleep well. Damn… If there’s nothing important, I’ll kill you!
Kanato: Right. Really… Hey, Teddy. You finally could talk to me, but this insect disturb our time.
Reiji: Then, you over there, why were you running in scared inside the manor before? If you could explain it, you wouldn’t get punished. And please say it wisely and as simple as you can.
Shuu: Wait. Where is Ayato?
Reiji: About him… I’ve searched the whole residence but still cannot find him. But… Shuu! You didn’t do anything yet you dare to speak like that to me? So irritating.
Ayato: I’m right here. *suddenly came in*
Kanato: Ayato… Eh? What is it with that blood?
Ayato: This girl, want to show something to you all. Here…
Raito: These… Aren’t these our familiars? They’re dead?
Shuu: Shit… you bring something like these… They’re covered in blood…
Ayato: They’re lying dead in front of the car. Right, chichinashi?
Subaru: You saw them and run away in frightened? Geez… I thought you were angry about something! Don’t do mislead things!
Reiji: Now, now. For her the death of familiar and the death of people is the same. No wonder she’s so shock. But, who did this?
Ayato: Isn’t it them? The Mukami. They send a threat before, right?
Shuu: They killed our familiars? Why didn’t they targeting us?
Subaru: Maybe it’s a warning? They want to say that we will become like this too. Damn, so annoying!
Reiji: If this have been done by them, what is their goal? They want us to hand in this girl, or something like that?
Ayato: Chichinashi, isn’t that good? There are people who would want you so far. *chuckle*
Raito: Well, it’s not like we don’t want you to cheat on guy here and there. It’s not a problem of hand you in or not. Ufu. If they want to borrow you, *in lower tone* they should kneel on us.
Shuu: Well, there’s no other reason than that, right? Or should I say, to threat a vampire to kill them, is a little bit unusual.
Ayato: Huh? Why is that?
Shuu: It’s too troublesome to explain.
Kanato: *chuckle* If they want her, they will write ‘hand her in’ or something like that in the threat, right? But they write ‘I will kill you’ but for us vampires, death is not something to be feared off.
Reiji: So, there is a possibility that the writer doesn’t know what the meaning of death for us? So the one who wrote that up is …
Raito: Ufu… They might be… human?
Subaru: Is that… you?
Ayato: It’s possible. For chichinashi, there might be a mountain of reason to despise us.
Shuu: Hey you… is that true?
Raito: Ufu. You’re desperately denied it. That’s fine, bitch-chan, for me, I don’t hate girls who hate and cannot forget us.
Reiji: You… what’s the meaning of this?
Subaru: There are some people coming! Oi, you come here for now!
*some people walk in*
Ruki: We came in arbitrarily.
Ayato: Huh… You all… Why are you coming here?
Yuuma: What a merry welcome! Hah?
Kanato: What do you want? Don’t come in as you please.
Ruki: Well, there’s something we want to ask you.
Azusa: Our familiars were killed.
Reiji: !! Your household too?
Kou: Then, it’s as Ruki’s prediction?
Ruki: Is there some threat sent to your house?
Raito: So, it also sent to Mukami-san house too?
Ruki: So it’s like that. Actually, first we’re suspecting you all. But from that paper, I couldn’t find your fingerprints or handwriting. They’re all not match to any of you.
Yuuma: Then, Ruki said that “the fingerprint on that paper doesn’t not match” with you all. The investigation is failed, and today this familiar incident happened.
Azusa: Ruki said that your familiar might also get killed elegantly like ours.
Subaru: For a while I feel like you make us look like a fool. Was it just my imagination?
Shuu: That might be true.
Ayato: Damn! It’s so irritating!
Reiji: I see.
Kanato: Hey, Reiji. Do you know something?
Raito: As expected, the offender is Bitch-chan?
Kou: EH?? M-Nekochan? You did this?
Ruki: That’s impossible. This woman doesn’t have enough power to stand against our familiars.
Yuuma: Then who did such a coward thing like this?!?! Damn! Sneakily behind us!
Azusa: Grudge… right. Grudge…! They held a grudge against us, vampire. Human…
Reiji: I’ve thought about that too. Actually, long time ago there’s a tragedy caused by a vampire and ended up pretty the same as our current condition.
Raito: What is it? What is it?
Ruki: It’s the curse of Odessa, isn’t it?
Reiji: As expected you knew about it. Then it’s easier to talk now.
Ruki: It’s about a legend happen in a faraway country, right? A certain village girl on that country fell in love with a young noble vampire.
Reiji: This girl held a true love, but this vampire man used her feelings just to lust insatiably for draining her blood, and he just throw her away in pain.
Ruki: This girl, who has become a vampire, cannot go back to her home, and she held grudge for so long to this young noble vampire. She planned to take revenge on him. To cut it short, she did things like this.
Kou: Heh~ so there’s such kind of story. Ruki-kun you’re so well-informed.
Kanato: Then, what kind of method she planned to take revenge? I like such a story.
Reiji: In this certain vampire residence, she invited them one by one then killed them. First she sent a threat with the same wording as the one sent to our manor. Lastly she will corner the nobleman, the nobleman will run away, and her revenge accomplished. This girl replaces the nobleman, and seemed to kill all the villagers.
Ayato: *smirk* Then, you mean to say that her cursed is exist even up until now?
Ruki: It’s more like there’s a possibility that someone copied the same method as this curse story.
Ayato: Who the hell did such a coward thing! If they want us to die, they just have to try killing us, right? Such a round way to do that!
Shuu: You right. They don’t have to placing a worthless curse to us. If they’re scared of us, then it has no meaning to do this.
Azusa: Hey, Raito-san, what’s wrong? It seems like you’re thinking something hard.
Raito: Hmmm…. I feel like knew that kind of story…
Yuuma: Hah?? What do you mean?
Raito: Hey Reiji, that girl name is Odessa-chan, isn’t it?
Reiji: That’s right. What’s up with that?
Raito: Ufu. You know, that young nobleman vampire… might be me.
Ayato: Huh?? What did you say??? *grabbing Raito’s collar*
Raito: Hey, Ayato-kun, my shirt will be stretched! Don’t grab it!! It’s not my fault!
Shuu: Raito, don’t tell me… it’s happening when you visit Richter’s house?
Raito: You remember it, Shuu? That time I stayed in his house for a while. And I didn’t really have anything to do. When I went out to town, there’s a cute girl, so I invite her to ‘play’ with me.
Ruki: Don’t tell me, that everyone in Lord Richter’s home…
Kanato: They are all dead, right? I was sure that it was because of vampire hunter.
Subaru: If so, then, this damn pervert capped guy has done something bad to that Odessa-girl?
Raito: Wai… Odessa is already dead, right? So I don’t relate it to this incident. Moreover, this case might be just copying Odessa’s curse… w, why am I being tied? Tying or being tied is just when I do some kinky play… hey… wait…
Yuuma: Shut up! I will make sure you won’t run away…
Kou: You’re right. If we give him to Odessa, we can live in peace for now.
Azusa: Hah… so envious… I want to be… tied too….
Reiji: Hah… I never thought that the original one who’s been cursed is here.
Raito: Wait… Bitch-chan, help me…! I am unrelated to this. Even if it’s really Odessa, her target is not only me..!
Ruki: Even if she hold grudge to every vampire in the world, for now, but the foremost vampire she wants to killed is the vampire who’s been throwing her himself, right? Yosh, we’ll tie him outside. You all, carry him up!
Yuuma: *carrying Raito*
Raito: Wait! Let me go! It’s just a huge misunderstanding!
Reiji: Raito, you deserved this. I never thought that my own little brother is being the real legend in vampire history.
Ayato: *laugh* Well, it’s so like Raito.
Kanato: If Richter knew, he would kill Raito in front of Odessa, right? *chuckle*
Kou: In the end, everyone is enjoying one of their brothers being tied like this. The bound between Sakamaki brothers is so fragile… Well, it’s not good to deceiving woman, right? You think so too, right, M-nekochan? Hey, M-Nekochan?
Yuuma: Hey! Don’t space out! Look at us properly.
Subaru: You, is there something wrong? Hah? There’s something you’ve thinking of? What is it? Say it.
Shuu: If we left him outside Odessa might kill him? So troublesome.
Azusa: *chuckle* Shuu-san, are you scared of Odessa?
Shuu: Hah?? No way!
Raito: Ufu. Such a haste attitude. It seems true.
Shuu: Oi, it’s because you’re hook up with some weird woman, right? Reflect your attitude a bit!
Raito: So I said countless time, it’s not my fault! Geez…
Ayato: Oi chichinashi, what’s up? You’ll be left. Or you want to be killed by Odessa? No, right? Let’s go! Geez… you’re wasting our time. Huh? You feel like you have seen the handwriting on the threat letter? Don’t you just mistake it? Heh? It’s similar with your father’s?
Kanato: He… whose handwriting is that?
Ayato: Huh? Your father? You mistook it right? Really… You really easy to worried. Before worrying about that, you should worry about your own blood. So stupid!
Imagine Tommy is dating Emily but is slowly falling in love
“Hey, hey Tommy” (Y/n) whispered, poking him with her pencil
“Wanna go get ice-cream?”
“What like right now?” he frowned, glancing up from his
They were in the middle of their study period but (Y/n) was
getting very bored. She had studied all weekend and felt ready for any tests.
Tommy however hadn’t, his week had been a bit hectic. But that little smile she
was giving him was intoxicating.
“Please” she pouted out her bottom lip, grinning when he
rolled his eyes but stuffed his books into his bag.
“Fine” he sighed “but you’re paying”
“So what are you doing tonight?” she asked before scooping
another spoonful of (Y/ff) ice-cream into her mouth.
“Um, I’m going on a date” he confessed “With Emily”
“Emily” she gulped “Oh, I didn’t know you two were um…”
“Yeah” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, dumping his
rubbish into a nearby bin.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have done this” she bit her lip. She had
completely misjudged the situation.
“Wait, no” he shook his head quickly “I mean just because
I’m dating her doesn’t mean I can’t go out with other people- no, no not like
that. Like out as in outside. With others. Besides her. Without Emily there”
She smiled at his ramble, quickly placing her hand on his
“Hey, chill” she chuckled “I got what you meant”
He blushed awkwardly, staring at the beautiful girl in front
“We’re good” he stammered “On the same page I mean”
“Yeah, of course”
But they definitely weren’t good. He could feel his heart
swell as she walked away from him. God was he fucked.
“As a child, that’s your little space within the house," said James Mollison, a Kenyan-born, England-raised, Venice-based photographer whose 2011 photo book, Where Children Sleep draws attention to a child’s "material and cultural circumstances” and offers a remarkable view on class, poverty, and the diversity of children around the world.
“I hope the book gives a a glimpse into the lives some children are living in very diverse situations around the world; a chance to reflect on the inequality that exists, and realize just how lucky most of us in the developed world are," said Mollison.
Nine-year-old Dong shares a room with his parents, sister and grandfather in the province of Yunnan in southwest China. His family owns just enough land to grown their own rice and sugar cane.
Eight-year-old Alyssa lives in a small house in Kentucky, heated only by a wooden stove. Alyssa’s father works at Walmart and mother works at McDonald’s.
Unable to go to school, Alex spends his days begging on the streets of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, and sleeping on whatever he can find at night — an empty bench, an old sofa, or the pavement.
Living with her parents in a small apartment in Tokyo, 4-year-old Kaya’s bedroom looks like every little girl’s dream room. All of Kaya’s dresses are made by her mother — who makes up to three a month — and she has 30 dresses, coats, pairs of shoes, sandals and boots, and multiple wigs.
Prena, a 14-year-old domestic worker in Kathmandu, Nepal works 13-hour days as a domestic worker, earns $6.50 a month, and sleeps in a tiny, cell-like space at the top of her employer’s house. She goes to school three times a week and dreams of one day becoming a doctor.
Living with 13 other women in a tea house in Kyoto, Japan, 15-year-old Risa is a ”maiko“ — an apprentice geisha. She sleeps with five other women in a room that doubles as a dining room and a tea room.
Living in a top-floor apartment on Fifth Avenue in New York, 9-year-old Jaime likes to play the cello, kickball, and study his finances on the Citibank website. His parents also own luxury homes in the Hamptons and Spain.
An orphan and refugee from war in Liberia, this 9-year-old anonymous boy goes to school in Ivory Coast for ex-child soldiers and lives in a concrete shack with some of his classmates.
Often accompanying his father on hunts, 11-year-old Joey owns two shotguns and a cross bow and made his first kill, a deer, at age seven. He lives with his parents and older sister in Kentucky and "is hoping to use his crossbow during the next hunting season as he has become tired of using a gun.”
Living with her parents, brother and sister near Kathmandu in Nepal, 7-year-old Indira works at a local granite quarry where she has worked at since she was 3. She also attends school and shares a mattress with her siblings. Their house has one room, one bed and one mattress.
Four-year-old Jasmine (“Jazzy”) lives in a big house in Kentucky with her parents and three brothers. Her room is filled with crowns and sashes that she won in beauty pageants. Having entered more than 100 competitions so far, Jazzy enjoys being treated like a princess and would like to be a rock star when she grows up.
Ryuta is a champion sumo wrestler and has been competing for seven years. He lives in Tokyo with his parents and younger sister and is also a member of the boy scout movement.
This 4-year-old Romanian boy sleeps with his family on a mattress in a field on the outskirts of Rome. After begging for money to pay for tickets, his family came from Romania by bus. With no identity papers, his parents clean windscreens at traffic lights since they cannot obtain legal work. None of his family members have ever been to school.
Living in a favela in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, 14-year-old Erlen is pregnant for the third time. She usually sleeps on the floor but her mother has swapped places and allowed her to sleep on the bed during the later stages of her pregnancy. Erlen was 12 and 13 years old during her previous pregnancies, but lost both babies shortly after their births. If her new baby survives, she will be a single parent and will have to drop out of school.
Six-year-old Bilal’s family are Bedouin Arabs living in a one-room shack they built themselves besides an Israeli settlement at Wadi Abu Hindi in the West Bank. Bilal does not go to school yet but helps take care of his family’s 15 goats.
Nantio is a member of the Rendille tribe and lives with her two brothers and two sisters in a tent-like dome made from cattle hide and plastic, with little room to stand, in Lisamis, Kenya. She went to the village school for a few years but decided not to continue and is hoping a “moran” (warrior) will select her for marriage.
Eight-year-old Roathy’s home sits on a rubbish dump swarming with flies on the outskirts of Phnom Penh, Cambodia, where he sleeps on a mattress made from old tires. At 6 a.m. every morning, Roathy and hundreds of other children are given a shower and breakfast at a local charity center before he starts work — scavenging for plastic bottles and cans, which are then sold to a local recycling company. Breakfast is sometimes the only meal of the day.
Rhiannon lives with her parents and brother in a terraced house in Darel, Scotland, in an area plagued with heroin addiction and gang violence. She and her family have become used to abusive behavior from people in the neighborhood. Sporting a mohawk like her parents’ ever since she was six, Rhiannon and her family and friends are part of a punk subculture and have formed a community of support where they all look out for each other.
“This is why I wasn’t planning on coming,” Hyungwon gritted his teeth, hands clenching tightly into fists until his knuckles turned white.
“But your sister would rather die than leave Changkyun in their hands,” Kihyun sighed as he leaned against the wall, admiring your bravery and love but at the same time, hoping that you hadn’t been so reckless. Hoseok had his face buried in his hands, blaming himself for failing to pull you away fast enough.
Noticing this, Hyunwoo placed his hand on his shoulder. “She’s a smart kid, and a strong girl. Our maknae is quite the fighter as well. I’m sure they can-”
“I should have seen him coming-”
The boys heard approaching footsteps and they hid behind the rubbish dump yet again, breaths held in and hands trembling when they saw the shadows of some people cast upon the wall.
“I swear I heard Hoseok’s whiny voice,” a familiar voice could be heard and all seven crouching bodies stood up at the same time, heads popping out from the dump. There stood four boys and a girl, all with smirks on their face and guns in their hands.
“How did you guys get here?” Minhyuk asked and Jennie frowned.
“_______ called me here and I brought them along. But where is she?” The other four boys nodded and looked around them, wondering where you were.
Hyungwon lowered his head and said in a small whisper, “They got her as well. We were too careless.”
Hands on her hips, Jennie nodded. “So we’re saving two butts today? Okay, I’ll be able to redeem two favours.” Everybody smiled slightly at her joking comment which lightened up the mood. “So what are we waiting for?”
“We don’t know how many men are in there…” Kihyun explained but trailed off. “But we have nine people now. I think that changes things.”
“It does, doesn’t it? I think we can take them on,” Hoseok loaded his gun and so did the others, placing their fingers on the trigger, ready to fire.
“Ready?” Jennie cocked her head to the side and the boys nodded in unison.
Honestly, you didn’t know whether to wish that they would come to save you. You had seen the number of men guarding the place and you would rather die than have all your friends lose their lives while trying to save you but at the same time, you didn’t want your life to end so quickly.
After your sudden confession, Changkyun held your hands despite it being awkward as both of you were tied up, preventing the perfect interlace of fingers.
“How can I be your entire universe? I’m nothing,” He smiled bitterly and you frowned.
“That’s funny, how you seem to be everything to me.” The room became silent after you spoke and the both of you sat there, holding each other’s cold hands tightly and keeping silent, almost as if waiting for some men to come in and kill you off.
You wondered what the other five boys were doing, whether they ran away or if they were still hiding behind the rubbish dump. Then, Jennie popped into your head and you knew that there was nothing she could do if the rest had already left. All you could hope for was that they had all gathered together and that they had a plan. Or, you could just wish for the least painful death.
“What was that?” Changkyun jerked up suddenly and your head shot up, looking at the door which was still shut.
“Did you see something?”
“No. I heard something.” He said, tone dead serious and you didn’t understand how you could have missed a sound that seemed to change his entire attitude. Just as you were about to ask him what it was, you heard faint gunshots and you looked at him.
“What was that?” It was your turn to ask it now and he shook his head.
“I don’t know. Did you come here with anyone?” Upon hearing that, your eyes widened and you felt a surge of hope, as if that familiar sound of gunshots brought the chance of survival, of escape.
They didn’t leave.
“Cover me!” Kihyun yelled as he ran upfront, firing skillfully at the men guarding the front door, hoping to kill them off in one shot before more could swarm out from the house. Each time a man lifted up his gun, ready to fire, he would get shot right in the chest by Kihyun or on the arm by Hoseok. They were the sharpest shooters, always knowing where to aim at and when to fire, giving the enemies no time to make a move.
But as much as they were talented, they couldn’t possibly win a fight alone.
“Hoseok to your left!” Hyunwoo shouted and Hoseok’s arm swung automatically to that direction, finger pressing the trigger and ending the guy just when he thought he had snuck up successfully.
“We still got that chemistry,” Hoseok commented and the other boy shrugged.
As expected, more came barging out of the front door but that didn’t seem to taunt anyone.
“It has been Kihyun and Hoseok doing most of the work,” Minhyuk told the rest as he reloaded his gun.
“We haven’t even started.”
Time passed and the gunshots became louder and louder, letting you and Changkyun guess that your friends were getting closer and closer. You felt helpless, knowing that the boys were giving their all out there while you were stuck in a room, hands and legs tied together tightly.
“I want to get out of here and fight,” You said with gritted teeth and Changkyun nodded, gaze fixed on the door, waiting for that moment where his friends would barge in, hopefully not injured.
“HYUNGWON!” A loud cry rang and you were struck with fear, your face became pale and your mind became a blank. Did something happen?
“The both of us will stay with him, you guys go get them,” Minhyuk’s faint voice could be heard and you knew they were close. Open the door, open the door, you chanted in your head, wanting to run out and check on your brother and show no mercy to whoever struck him.
Realising that they didn’t know which room you both were in, Changkyun yelled at the top of his lungs and so did you, hoping that they would get you both out as fast as possible.
“They’re in that room!” You heard Jennie’s voice and you were surprised that she was there as well. So they did find each other. That’s good.
The door flung open with Hyunwoo, Kihyun and Jennie rushing in with sharp knives in their hands, ready to cut the ropes.
“Two of you cover the door. When I’m free I’ll help with Changkyun’s ropes,” You told them and they nodded, Jennie and Kihyun going to the door to handle whoever was possibly coming. Hyunwoo freed you and Jennie passed you a knife, allowing you to handle the rope around Changkyun’s ankles as Hyunwoo did the rope around his wrists.
The two at the door shot down some men and cleared the way for all of you to dash out to where Hyungwon was on the ground, leg bleeding profusely. You couldn’t help but feel like it was all your fault for facing your back to the entrance of the alleyway and allowing yourself to be taken yet again.
“Hyunwoo, you’re the strongest. Carry Hyungwon and we’ll do the shooting.” Kihyun said and Hyunwoo nodded, lifting Hyungwon easily onto his shoulders in one swing.
None of Jooheon’s men was in the way at first, the alleyway being wide open for your escape. But, it simply wasn’t possible for one man not to send a distress call in the middle of the fight which called for help.
More of them started charging towards you at the entrance and everyone but Hyunwoo held up their guns, firing mercilessly at them. That neighbourhood was a deserted one, quiet and empty and so your yells and gunshots rang throughout the entire place. You swore that the police could hear the sounds from the station even though it was quite a distance away but they probably didn’t care. After all, this area had the highest crime rates because of the corrupt and perhaps just unbothered police force.
“I think it’s the last of them!” Minhyuk signaled for everyone to start running again but from the corner of your eye, you saw a man on the floor still twitching, trembling hands reaching out for the gun next to him, wanting to at least shoot one of you before he died. Your hand shot out and you aimed at him before pressing the trigger but nothing happened. Damn it. I’m out of bullets? By that time, he already had the gun in his hand and pointed it towards Hoseok.
“Shoot him!” You yelled, pointing at the man as you threw yourself in front of Hoseok just as a shot was fired. Was it from his gun, or one of yours? You saw blood forming a puddle around the man’s head and you almost heaved a sigh of relief until you saw Changkyun falling on his knees in front of you. Body growing stiff, you tried to understand what exactly had happened and when Minhyuk rushed to the maknae’s side, taking of his shirt to press it against his stomach, you understood.
You were going to shield Hoseok. But Changkyun took the bullet for you.
There was no way Hyungwon and Changkyun could go to the hospital without the doctor asking how the bullet got there in the first place. Jennie could treat shots like the one on Hyungwon’s leg but Changkyun’s wound on his stomach was something much more serious.
“We need to get him to a proper hospital or clinic,” Jennie insisted but Changkyun shook his head, faking that he was alright.
“Sh, don’t talk. Just press this against the wound to stop the bleeding,” Minhyuk ordered and you stood there, thinking of possible options and eventually coming to a conclusion.
“I’ll ask my uncle.” The room grew silent and all eyes were on you.
“Uncle? How are we going to explain it to him?” Hyungwon asked and you looked at the Changkyun, grateful and yet, pained that he was hurt because of you.
“Well, Changkyun took a bullet for me and saved my life.”
“So please, save his.” You pleaded and your uncle looked at Changkyun, eyes fixed on the soaked, red patch on his stomach followed by the bandage around Hyungwon’s leg.
“What were you and Hyungwon doing? Fighting again?” He eyed you, a stern look on his face.
“I was fighting for my own life and for my friends. We didn’t start the fight, Jooheon did.”
“So this young man got injured while trying to save you?”
“Yes, so please help him.”
Your uncle saw the desperate look in you eyes and gave in, telling Hyunwoo to bring Changkyun to the guest room.
“I’ll get the instruments. ________, just this once.” He looked at you and you nodded, a wide grin spreading across your face but disappearing almost immediately when you heard painful groans as Hyunwoo lay Changkyun on the bed.
Rushing to his side, you held his hand and told him reassuringly, “My uncle will get the bullet out and treat your stomach. You’ll be fine soon.” He looked at you and smiled weakly, nodding slightly and trusting that everything would be alright.
Sighing softly, you placed a hand on his cheek. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“You…risked your life to save me…” Changkyun paused, wincing as he bit his lip, bearing with the pain radiating throughout his whole body. “You told me that…I was your entire universe.”
A tear rolled down your cheek and you nodded. “You are.”
“This…doesn’t just work one way. I will protect you too.”
Your uncle walked into the room and smiled at the sight of the both of you being there for each other, giving each other strength, hope and most important of all - love.
“My dear niece, I need to handle your boyfriend now. He’ll be fine in no time,” the older man chuckled and you nodded, giving Changkyun a quick kiss before leaving the room.
Taking in the fact that you had escaped death twice, you sat next to the boys who were proud of rescuing their friends successfully. You didn’t know whether you were really safe and whether a similar incident would happen all over again but you didn’t worry as much as you previously did, simply because you knew that you had friends who would risk their lives for you and someone who loved you as much as you loved him.
Once, you were something to him but now, you were everything. And that was all you needed to know for you not to fear anything because no matter what happened, you would never be alone.
What are, like, your absolute favorite things about the film Pride? I know it means a lot to you and there are a bunch of things in particular in it that really speak to you and you've been talking about them so this might be a ridiculous question, but. still.
lmao as if i could not talk about this film until i pass out:
honestly, a film that portrayed the miners’ strike as the right thing to do and margaret thatcher and the police as definitely and definitively in the wrong is already rare enough in this rubbish dump of a country that i feel that it really has to go first on the list
that mark ashton got to be joan of arc, by which i mean he got to be flawed and human and fire, that he got to be remembered as one of our great civil rights leaders, that his death and its cause had no punches pulled but it was not made everything about him, as films about the AIDs crisis almost invariably do. that the film treated him with respect and awe and affection, and showed that those who followed him did much the same.
johnathan/gethin, a healthy, mutually supportive, loving, passionately devoted gay marriage with partners from different backgrounds, with many struggles, who are openly besotted with each other as well as being deeply political. it’s such a small thing to slot in, but so important, that mention of the gay liberation movement, that before the 80’s there was an even worse time, where being gay was actively illegal.
all of lgsm! steph, particularly, outspoken and gobby and strident and kind, I WOULD DATE YOU, STEPH. GOBBY NORTHERN LESBIANS ARE MY JAM.
the iconography of the film. the hammer and sickle flag in mark’s kitchen. the pink triangle badge mark gives joe. VICTORY TO THE MINERS. (which is a phrase i have heard so many times, but pretty much never on a screen, not in something where you know the people making it wanted them to win.) the fucking lodge banners, at which i cry every time, and that includes in real life. (i’d quite like to work for my union so i should probably stop crying at lodge banners at some point.)
the MUSIC. obviously all the ‘gay’ dance music is amazing, but the socialist music! bread and roses, jesus.
this film is so good at depicting specific kinds of homophobic experience. hands up whose parents have told them that being gay is scary and lonely and involves lying to everyone? no homophobe on the street ever ‘just wants to talk to you’ but they always say they do. ‘flamboyant’ usually DOES mean ‘stop being so gay’, even from other gay people. (ilu jonathan.) there’s so much homophobia in this film, and good. there should be. people spitting at them, calling them perverts and queers, throwing fireworks at them, covering gay’s the word in disgusting graffiti. and it’s not like THAT’S gone away.
that one scene with russell tovey which is too heartbreaking to rewatch and i think is one of the best depictions of the AIDs crisis i’ve ever seen and it’s like a minute long.
TWO HANDS CLASPED TOGETHER THAT’S WHAT THE LABOUR MOVEMENT MEANS, SHOULD MEAN, SHOULDER TO SHOULDER, HAND TO HAND
i enjoy the huge kick in the teeth it is to our fucking horrible government who having ‘given’ us gay marriage (after ACTIVELY PREVENTING labour passing it years ago which was THE WHOLE REASON THEY WERE ABLE TO PASS IT IN THE FIRST PLACE, AND THEY’RE GOING TO CLAIM RESPONSIBILITY FOR IT FOREVER THE SCUMBAGS) would quite like us all to shut the fuck up while they drag us back to the 80’s.
the miners’ wives organisations are some of the most important female activism groups this country’s ever had and they were recognised as such for once
that you can win!!! that the labour movement can win!!! that gay rights are achievable!! that we need to work together like this again!!!!!
i could go on for five million years but i will spare you
Request: Hi there. I know requests are closed, but I just had a really horrible day at my new job. Could you write something where Dean goes to visit the arcade the reader works at, and he catches the person in charge of interns being rude/yelling at her?
Word Count: 788
Aw, that doesn’t sound fun:( I hope you’re feeling better, and that you like it:)
It started off as a weekend job, to help support your family. But you ended up working more and more hours, and now the local arcade employs four of you to work the busy evening shift.
You don’t mind it. It’s somewhat smelly and boring, but it helps pay the bills.
Tonight has been rough, to say the least. There’s been something going on out back, started a few weeks ago. All the rubbish got dumped out of the bin, right outside the door. Then there was a small fire. Then someone disappeared and was found dead in the river the next morning. Apparently it’s happened all around the area, but it has you a little freaked- especially when you walk into the back room which houses employee’s, the occasional costume, a coffee maker- just your regular back room.
It’s been turned totally upside-down. The table looks like it’s been tossed into a wall, the coffee pot is smashed and oozing black liquid, everything is strewn all over.
I didn’t see anything. You tell yourself, not wanting to face your boss. He’s generally mean to all of you, and you avoid him as much as possible.
You find your way out onto the main floor, adjusting the polo shirt you’re all made to wear. You’re clearing up a spillage near one of the machines when you hear your name over the tannoy.
Y/N Y/L/N to front desk, please. That’s Y/N Y/L/N. Front desk. Now.
Your heart drops as you recognise your boss, Tony’s, voice. You straighten up, tucking the cloth into your waistband, and weave your way through the machines and excited kids.
As you approach the desk, Tony’s about to speak into the little microphone again.
“There you are! Took you long enough, where the hell have you been?” He hisses, falsely smiling as a group of kids passes you.
“I was cleaning-” You begin, but he cuts over you.
“The back room.” He says irately, “You messed it up.”
“What? No, I-“
“I know you did! You’re the only one on duty and it sure as hell wasn’t me!”
“I haven’t touched anything in there! I didn’t even leave my stuff in there earlier!”
“You’re lying to me!” He yells, voice loud enough to be heard at the back of the arcade, “You’re lying! How dare you? Who the hell do you think you are?!”
You flinch away from him, not knowing what to say.
“Don’t you dare run! You’re going to tell me exactly when and why you did it, or you’re not coming back! Are you trying to say that we have a ghost?” He glares at you, and you shake your head.
“SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!”
“I didn’t do anything!” You say, wrapping your arms around yourself.
“You did! I know you did, it had to be you! You know what? Get out!”
“Woah, man. What’s with the yelling?”
Suddenly, there’s a guy in front of you, blocking you from Tony’s anger. The professional air goes back up.
“This is none of your concern.” He says tartly. The guy glances back at you- you’re shaking all over.
“You have this poor chick terrified. Her being one of your employees don’t make it okay for you to abuse her.”
“She destroyed company premises.” Tony glares at the man, “And it would be appreciated for you to step out of the way.”
He turns to you, then, “Did you do that?”
“Wha- no. No. Seriously, I didn’t-“
“That’s all I need to know.” He flashes you a smile, before turning back on Tony. “Look here, you don’t get to bother her like that. She’s innocent- does she look like she’s lying? Leave her alone. Or we won’t just be talking.” He’s about to turn away, “Oh, and she’s taking the rest of the night off.”
She- what? The guy grabs your wrist, though not with a lot of force, and leads you out the front door. Once in the cool night air, you find yourself relaxing. You trust this guy, and you don’t quite know why.
“Sorry about that,” You begin, “He’s-“
“I understand. Don’t worry.” Together, you begin walking slowly down the street.
You laugh, “No-one ever talks to him like that.”
“Someone needs to.”
“I’m Dean. Nice to meet you.” He smiles. You grin.
“I know.” He motions to your name tag, on which your name is emblazoned in too-bright letters in a ‘playful’ font.
You hang around for the rest of the night, and when you both decide to make a move, he runs a hand through his hair.
Title: Never letting you go.
Warning: sad reader, voilence, swearing, mention of alcohol. Also the is unexpectingly long. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Sooooo I heard you got a man” Tony nudged you as you look away
“Y-yeah” You smiled slighty. Steve overheard the conversation you had with Tony about your new boyfriend, to say at the least he wasn’t quite pleased because he was hoping to go out with you someday and hopefully marry and and have a family. But at this point he wasn’t sure what to do at this point.
Steve’s head bolted up has he heard your phone ring he thought that he noticed something change in your eyes as you saw the number,
“Gimmie a sec, gotta take this.” Ya stated while answering your phone and walking off to another room.
About 3 months have past since Steve has found out about your relationship. Over that course of time he noticed how slowly yet quickly the little ball of sunshine has started to fade away and turn into more of a gloomy cloudy day with the smallest chance of even being able to get to see the sunlight. It was really disheartening to see that change. Also he got to see you less and less as time went on as well. Steve the whole Avengers team was worried even some SHIELD agents were getting worried, you were the one to cheer everyone up not the other way around. The tower and SHIELD facility also seemed to get gloomier, you were practically the mother hen.
Today Steve decided to visit you because he hasn’t seen you in about 2 weeks which is probably the longest time he hasn’t seen you went either of you aren’t on a mission. He pulled up to the drive way of your house but something seemed off he had a gut feeling something wasn’t right. As he walked closer to the door he could hear shouting and things smashing and breaking and it got louder with each step he took. Steve’s heart beating rapidly at the worry he was getting from the sounds. With a Weary sigh he pressed the doorbell.
The shouting and the smashing stopped for a second as the doorbell chime echoed throughout the house. It was silent for another minute before he heard heavy footsteps move towards the door then the unlocking of a door. A man stood before Steve he was about an inch or two taller than Steve, a stubble, slightly muscular also his cheeks and eyes were slightly red and a wiff of alcohol hit Steve in the face like a cold breeze. He was also able to get a glance inside the house, once a beautiful home perfect for a family is now like a rubbish dump, stains clearly seen in the carpet, holes through walls, clothes scattered everywhere, pieces of furniture and cutlery all over the place.
“Where’s (Y/N)?” Steve demanded
“Who the fuck hic are you?” The man before him slurred
“A friend of (Y/N), now where is she/he?” Steve demanded more sternly, the drunk narrowed his eyes at Steve
“I knew that bitch was cheating. How long have they been with you?” The man kept asking questions as he kept taking swigs of his drink. Suring the rambling Steve noticed you sneaking up to your so called ‘boyfriend’ with a pan in your hands above your head. What happened to you? why are you like this? questions kept flowing through Steves head when the guy called out,
“Hey you listening to me-” The drunk was knocked unconscious as you hit him up the head with the pan.
You were shaking, tears streaming down your face, bruises and cuts all across your body, your hair like a rats nest, awfully pale. Your arms dropped to your sides as the pan fell from your hands, finally you looked up at Steve. The look you gave him was one he never thought he would see from you- you were terrified, scared, sadness and longing but there were many more emotions held in just that one look. Instinctively Steve wrapped his arms around your fragile, shaking form. One arm around your middle and his other holding your head against his chest.
Steve never wanted to let you go.
And that’s what he did. He never let you go.
It may of taken months for you to return to your cheery state but after that time Steve asked you out and you eargerly agreed. Ever since that night you two were tied at the hip, never seen without one another, both of you always smiling, you were there for each other with the other was down.
♢ He has supported and urged fans to donate to the MND charity. ALS/MND charities fund and promote global research into MND and provides support to people affected by Motor Neurone Disease.
♢ Donated a Spencer Hart suit to Annos Africa. UK based African children’s arts charity running educational arts projects in the Nairobi slums.
♢ Asked fans to donate to Myeloma UK one year for his birthday. Myeloma is a myeloma/multiple myeloma blood cancer disease
♢ Cool to be Kind - Benedict Cumberbatch knows it is Cool to be Kind to animals.
♢ Benedict hosted the Laureus Awards in 2014 & 2015. Laureus use the event to raise awareness and fundraise. The foundation is also partnered with the Prince’s Trust and aims to fund sports programs for disadvantaged kids.
♢ Was involved with Dramatic Need. Dramatic Need is a creative arts charity helping vulnerable children in Africa to build hope & self-belief in the face of conflict, trauma & hardship. Benedict also contributed to a fantastic Dramatic Need again in 2015.
♢ He is a patron for Odd Arts. Odd Arts has worked with over 60,000 people, making safer communities and individuals. They are market leaders in issue and evidence based arts work within criminal justice and community settings.
♢ Fans had (somehow!) found out a t-shirt he had worn was bought at “The Henry Miller Memorial Library. Which is a public benefit, non-profit organization championing the literary, artistic and cultural contributions of the late writer, artist and Big Sur resident Henry Miller.
♢ Drew a self portrait to auction off for the Willow Foundation which is dedicated to bringing special days to the seriously ill who are between the ages 16 and 40 years of age and live in the United Kingdom.
♢ Benedict was just one of the guest presenters at the Gold Award Presentation in St. James’s Palace on 19 March. . The DofE is a leading youth Charity the DofE gives all young people aged 14-24 the chance to develop skills for life and work, fulfil their potential and have a brighter future.
♢ Benedict read (& is honorary Vice President) for The Story of Christmas event which raises funds to support charitable projects that benefit homeless people and disadvantaged children in and around London. The Story of Christmas is supported by private and corporate benefactors, together with famous faces from the worlds of stage and screen who perform live.
♢ Benedict attended Elton John’s Aids Foundation Oscar party. EJAF is an international non-profit organisation funding direct patient care services and AIDS prevention education.
♢ Benedict was photographed for a Stand Up To Cancer campaign where he was asked to run as if he were about to save a life. Stand Up To Cancer is a joint national fundraising campaign from Cancer Research UK and Channel 4. They actors involved were part of an exclusive short film and set of photographs shot by renowned photographer and film director, Greg Williams.
♢ Benedict took part in a skit for Red Nose Day, which debuted for the first time in America. Red Nose Day is a fantastic night of TV, with comedy and entertainment to inspire the nation to give generously.
♢ Benedict donated his famous sparkly Vuitton shoes to Small Steps Project which help children living on rubbish dumps globally.
♢ In 2014 Benedict attended the annual Young Patron’s Bright Young Things Gala which supports emerging artists at London’s National Theatre.
♢ Benedict was photographed by Jason Bell, who was commissioned by TK Maxx to shoot a variety of famous faces, including Liam Neeson, Kate Winslet and Jerry Hall, to celebrate ten years of its Give Up Clothes For Good campaign, which has raised more than £17 million for Cancer Research.
♢ Benedict joined a host of stars in calls to “Save Soho" from gentrification and also featured in their Save Soho video. The Save Soho campaign aims to protect performance arts venues in the area. Benedict is also seen sporting their pins at events.
♢ He’s a patron of Phoenix Cinema who will participate in an event there for their friends and community, as soon as his currently very full schedule allows. The programme of events and films on offer is curated by people who truly love and know cinema and is made possible by a charity that puts people before profit.
♢ Benedict and the cast of The Imitation Game signed posters for The Turing Trust to auction off. The Turing Trust is established by the nephew of Alan Turing and is a UK based sustainable development charity which makes people more employable by bringing transformative technologies to those that will otherwise miss out.
♢ The inspiring champ Stephen Sutton raised lots of money for the Teenage Cancer Trust, which helped him throughout his battle with colorectal cancer. Stephen’s campaign went viral in 2014 and broke all records on Just Giving. Benedict shared a photo via his bud James Rhodes urging people to donate to Stephen’s cause. RIP Stephen Sutton.
♢ Benedict and Sienna Miller filmed themselves doing Sohana’s EBtonguetwister challenge for the Sohana Research Fund which is helping to find effective treatment for Recessive Dystrophic Epidermolysis Bullosa.
♢ Benedict donated some Gucci glasses, Modalu bag and a signed photo to #Boxathon who send boxes to people who fill it with things they can auction off to raise money for The Teenage Cancer Trust.
♢ Benedict donated another pair of shoes, this time Edward Green’s to Small Steps which helps children and famlies living on rubbish dumps.
♢ During Benedict’s 3 month run of Hamlet in 2015 Benedict appealed for Save The Children at the end of every performance which raised £150k. As well as that, he participated in a Save The Children video for the charity single raising money for Syrian refugees.
♢ For America’s first red Nose Day in 2015. Benedict was one of many celebrities to help out with a video skit.
♢ A huge bear joined Benedict and Johnny Depp on The Graham Norton show in Nov 2015 which Benedict attacked live on the show. Johnny and Benedict signed the bear to be auctioned off for @GOSH. Great Ormond Street Hospital provides world class care to hundreds of children every day.
♢ Benedict called up radio host Christian for Who’s Calling Christian who spent two weeks looking for celebrities to Call Christian for the chance to win £20,000 towards the charity of their choice (or £10,000 for their charity and £10,000 for a listener who told them to call up). After selecting the top 5 calls and then opening up the vote to you to choose the best. Unfortunately Benedict didn’t get to the final Top 5.
(That’s not including all the other charities and gala’s he attends and help that we don’t know about).
And every year for his birthday his ever growing fan base raise thousands to his chosen charities or charities they want to support. Perhaps the biggest, for example, Cumberbatchweb organises one. One year £10K for the Teenage Cancer Trust was raised, last year £15k for Myeloma UK and this year (as it stands currently) £6,163 to The Princes Trust. Not forgetting all the other fans raising large amounts for other charities throughout the year in his name.
♢♢ In 2015 Benedict was acknowledged in the Queen’s Birthday Honours with a CBE for his services to performing arts and services to charity. ♢♢
“Every good act is charity. A man’s true wealth hereafter is the good that he does in this world to his fellows.” - Moliere.
In the light of a seeming constant intrusion into his whereabouts and privacy, it would be a delight to make a few frenzied discussions on what he does to truly deflect his own fame for good. Take his lead & shine a light into a weary world.
Every time the doors opened to allow another stream of riders onto the car, he hoped that she would be there. Most days she was, in her long bubble gum pink coat with the shiny black shoulder bag on her right side. She always got in the last car and turned to the left and took a seat whilst pulling a book from her bag. That’s what had caught his eye the first day. She always had a book, not an e-reader like so many commuters. Sometimes she would sit and place the book on her lap. Her little hands would clasp it for a minute, as if she was making herself wait and enjoying the anticipation.
How he loved to watch her read! Unlike the other stoic and expressionless readers on the train, her face always mirrored whatever she feeling. Smiles, little gasps, stifled giggles. The first time she brushed away a tear, he almost flew to her side like a careening pigeon. She had closed her eyes for a few seconds and shut the book quickly. It was a hardcover and the sharp snap of the pages being pressed so swiftly together could be heard through the train car. He waited to see what she would do next. She was still. Some time passed. She brushed away another tear. When she opened the book again, he guessed that she must have re-read the offending passage; a few more tears slipped down her cheeks and she was shaking her head ever so slightly.
He starting writing them on the evening he saw her for the second time. After all, what better way to prepare for a role as a writer than to write? He scratched out the words in pencil on yellow lined paper, tearing off the sheets and putting them in envelopes with the date on them. Remembering how obsessively he had drafted and edited papers at university, he forced himself to just write and not erase anything, letting the little squiggles of communication flow out of his pencil like an open tap.
“My beautiful bluestocking” began each letter. Sometimes they were poems, sometimes descriptions of his day and what he had observed about her on that particular evening. Sometimes he wrote pages and pages about what how they would spend their time together, if it actually occurred. Sometimes he included bits from Shakespeare or silly literary puns that he thought might make her laugh. By the end of the first week, the contents changed. He began to include things about himself. Personal issues, fears, goals, and desires all found their way onto the page. He hadn’t begun the experiment with the intent of self-discovery, but it was a delightful development.
As the days went by, he found himself thinking about her more and more. What was her favorite food? Where did she work? She rarely spoke to anyone on the train, preferring instead to keep her nose in a book. When he heard her voice for the first time, the non-descript American accent didn’t surprise him. Although he couldn’t quite figure out how, he knew she was from across the pond.
When the two week mark rolled around and he realized that tomorrow would be the last day of his commitment and he would be off on his next one, a cloud of melancholy settled on him as he wrote the final letter. Surprised to find himself feeling as if he was saying goodbye to a friend even though he didn’t know her name, he made an impulsive decision to attempt to give them to her. He reasoned with himself that she would be flattered. What woman wouldn’t be flattered to receive love letters from a stranger? She wouldn’t think it was strange, surely. No, no, he told himself. She would be pleased. A woman who enjoyed reading as much as she did would appreciate what he had done. Yes, she would be pleased. If she wasn’t, he would never see again.
That caused little pangs of something he couldn’t identify to shoot through his heart, but he simply shook it off. Folding the pages carefully and placing them into the envelope, he wrote the date on the front and then took the stack and deposited them into a paper bag.
When the doors opened the next day and she wasn’t there, he expected to feel marginally relieved. He would be spared the potential awkwardness of presenting her with such an unusual tribute. But it wasn’t relief he felt. It was disappointment. And something else. Longing?
He was trying to make sense of that when the doors opened at the next stop and a familiar pink blur entered the train with several other riders.
Now it was elation that sparked across his skin. She was just at a different stop for some reason.
He tried to make his long legs move in her direction, but they were stubbornly refusing. Suddenly the idea of rejection entered his mind. What if she looked at him like he was crazy? What if she got up and moved to another seat? What if she accepted the bag warily and then dumped them into the rubbish right as she exited the train?
All of these thoughts and more were swirling around in his mind and he realized that his stop was next. He willed his limbs to move and slowly made his way to her.
“Excuse me, I’m sorry to disturb you. My name’s Tom. I’m an actor.”
He immediately feels ridiculous, like a gangly youth talking to his first girl.
She smiles at him, the rows of bright white teeth flashing between plump red lips.
“My name isn’t Tom and I’m not an actor.”
“These are for you.”
He offers her the bag.
She takes it.
“Goodbye,” he says, the train coming to a stop and the doors opening.
“Wait,” she calls out to him before he steps onto the platform. “What’s in the bag?”