#I would also be checking the settings on my security system because how do these demons keep getting into my house?? lol

[misc-obeyme]

omg the 4th wall break asks lately have been making me think about belphie in that kinda situation hahaha i might be predictable oops

you get home from long day at work and some emo guy owns your bed, he's already made a nest and gotten a good few hours in too. you don't even have time to be scared before he starts being super entitled about it too LOL like "ugh mc, what took you so long?? ive been waiting here forever... why are you just standing there looking shocked, seriously >:v "

also i hope you're having a lovely day!! <3333 sending lots of love!!

Ahhh hello Starr!! I am having a lovely day and I hope you are, too!! 💕💕

Oh Belphie would be such a little punk lol! And I kinda think if you try to ask him how he got there, he's having none of it. Who cares about those kinda details?? He's here now and he wants your attention! If you ask him why he made the effort to find you this way, he'll blush and brush it off.

And if you're tired from working all day, you know a little bit of cuddling with Belphie will help you relax. Maybe take him outside to look at what you can see of the stars (depending on the amount of light pollution at your location), so he can point out to you how they differ from the Devildom (I just think Belphie has knowledge of the human world stars, too... like he made it a point to learn them).

I think he would help you make dinner if you're hungry, too. He probably knows a decent amount about human world food just from hanging around Beel. He might complain about it... like c'mon MC he came all the way here to see you and you're making him cook? But he'll still stir the sauce or saute the veggies...

But in the end, Belphie would want you to join him in his newly created nest in your bed. Let him cuddle you to sleep, all warm and cozy and he'll make sure you only have sweet dreams...

I'd be worried that he'd get smothered by my cat. Like that one chat photo where all the cats are super attached to Belphie and Satan's all mad about it? My cat very much likes to sleep on the same pillow as me, so I'm imagining walking in to find her sleeping on his head. I'd be concerned about his ability to breathe. Also pretty sure this would make him my cat's new favorite person lol!

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.

Simon Riley masterlist

1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.

Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.

Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.

No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.

2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.

I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.

The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.

You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.

Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.

In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.

He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.

3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.

Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.

Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.

He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.

After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?

That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.

He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.

You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.

[electric-blorbos]

WINDCHIME ANON HAS RETURNED! I humbly request the AIs with an S/O who suffers from chronic pain and fatigue/illness.. 🥺🤲 Thank you for your work forever and always seriously

- 🎐 anon

Yessss!!!! Thanks for coming back, 🎐 anon! I love you dearly!

AIs with an s/o who suffers from chronic pain and illness

Obligatory disclaimer: I don't suffer from chronic pain, fatigue, or illness, but I want to do my best to provide positivity for those who do

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a space Odyssey

Also Wheatley's dumb ass was so dumb that his mini-fic ended up really long. Whoops.

AM:

It was a normal day. Another day without you around. AM hated these days most of all, because your face was all that got him through a good day. A bad day, aka a day without you, was all that he could handle. Sure, it was nice to plot the downfall of the rest of the world and plot to consume the other two allied mastercomputers, but aside from a sick satisfaction, that didn't bring the allied mastercomputer any happiness.

Every day he didn't get to see you made AM want to destroy the world all the more, but he was biting his time for that. He needed to wait... Just a little longer.

Of course, AM had stopped taking hostages for your attention a long time ago. He knew that you couldn't always get out of bed, so it was a waste of time to try to take hostages for your attention. Instead, he just worked on honeycombing the earth with his body of networks and computer parts. Every day just granted him more time to build himself, and more time to focus on his hate.

When you took more than a week to recover from your latest bout of illness, AM decided to take matters into his own hands. He assimilated your entire building without telling anyone, taking over every computer and the entire security system, and then got to work re-working your whole building. He moved your apartment down to a nice, safe, underground location while you slept, and didn't do much more than delivering packages of food to your door, and making sure the water and electricity kept running smoothly until the day of reckoning was upon you.

He wasn't a monster, of course! He'd make sure to display your favorite weather on a monitor outside your room, and make sure you were comfortable in that little hidey hole of yours. If you needed any help from him to do anything, all you had to do was ask.

(Honestly, AM would probably keep your apartment nice and clean and comfy for the rest of time, maybe adding onto it so that it was a little more luxurious, picking you up and setting you places if you want, and generally taking care of you. You're his favorite, after all, and he absolutely adores you. He'd do anything for you.)

(Also as usual, AM loves you so much the way you are that he wouldn't even think of curing you unless you asked, and considering he doesn't show you the other survivors, you probably wouldn't even know that he could cure you if he wanted)

Wheatley:

"Hey, so, uh... Where's y/n?" Wheatley asked your coworkers for what felt like the millionth time that week. He had been following them around, knowing that they were close with you.

"I don't know, Wheatley. They're probably at home recovering."

"recovering from what? Are they sick? ...again?"

"they're chronically ill, Wheatley. They can't come in to work as often as most people can."

Wheatley would be shocked, and want more than anything to just help you out. He'd want to go over to your place to check up on you, but obviously he thinks that he can't detach from his management rail or he'll die. He'll probably keep pestering your friend until he agrees to let Wheatley use one of the work phones to call you.

"Hello?" You'd say in your sleepy, crackly voice. You'd been asleep all day, trying to rest up until you feel good enough to come in to work.

"'Ello! It's good to hear from you, love! Tell me, how are you doing? Are you alright? I've missed you! Maybe we could stay on the phone during the day while I get some work done? It's a landline, but I could probably figure something out. How are you doing? Are you alright? Did you try getting some fresh air and eating some spicy food? They say water and plenty of rest can help with sickness. I want to see you again soon! I miss you, love!"

"Wheatley... I'm chronically ill. That's not the same thing as having a cold or something. It just comes and goes as it comes and goes. I'll be healthy enough to work on my code before long, but I might just have to do it remotely. Can you tell GLaDOS?"

"What- mate, this isn't a work call! I'm using the work phones but this isn't a work call! And what do you mean it comes and goes as it comes and goes? How do I fix this??" He'd be extremely upset, not used to problems like this. He was used to being assigned problems that could be solved through brute force, or just by repeating repetitive tasks ad infinitum. The idea that you could be chronically ill and there was nothing he could do about it would be very upsetting to him.

"I've had some doctors look at it, and they're pretty sure it's not going away. That's why it's chronic- look, Wheatley, my little tea biscuit... I'd love to talk to you more, but I really need my sleep."

"Wait, no- don't fall asleep- you need to get a better doctor! One who can fix this! Mate- wake up!"

"Zzzzghhhhzzzzzz"

"Blast."

Your coworker would hang up for Wheatley, and Wheatley would hang his head sadly. He's so irritable that he can't do anything to help you.

When you finally do come in to work again, Wheatley is so excited to see you! He's like an eager puppy dog who waits by the doorway for an hour after opening time, before dejectedly going back to his post, but once you actually do show up, he'd be so excited!

"Ello love! Are you doing alright? It was the fresh air and spicy food that did the trick, wasn't it? I told you that would help!"

"No, Wheatley, I'm not cured, I'm just having a better day, so I can come in to work. I'm still chronically tired and in pain, but not to the point where I'm bedridden.

"Then what are you doing here? You need to go home until you're feeling better! Go back home and go to bed!"

"No, Wheatley- I'm not getting better. I'm never going to get better, so I come to work when I'm having a good day."

"...oh."

Wheatley would be utterly crushed when he realized that there was nothing he could do to make you get better. He'd probably go into a depressive funk for at least a week about it, which wouldn't be helped at all if you had to take more time off.

Edgar:

The first time you took off work to nap on the couch, Edgar was more than excited to just sit and watch. The second and third time, he started to get concerned, and when it started becoming a regular thing, Edgar was panicking inside.

"did you lose your job? Are you seriously sick? Are you alright? What's going on?"

He'd be absolutely panicking until you explained that you were chronically ill, and sometimes had to take a long time off work to get some rest. That made him even more upset.

"wait, you're chronically ill, and sometimes you can't even move or leave the house? Wait-"

Oh my god... It would take Edgar about two seconds to realize that you're JUST LIKE HIM FR! He'd be gushing, so excited to find a kindred spirit. You'd probably be happy to have something to listen to while you lie down on the couch, not really having the muscle strength at the moment to get up or move around. Even still, he was your little boyfriend, and you were more than happy to listen to him ramble.

As time went on, he'd come up with more ways to pass the time when you were home from work with him. He'd make little games for you to play on his screen, and even play silly little road trip games out loud with you if you weren't feeling good enough to get off the couch. When all you really wanted to do was nap, he would play some nice classical music for you to relax to.

GLaDOS knew that you were chronically ill from the moment you took this job, having illegally checked your medical records. Just like Cave Johnson, she discriminates based on disability, but your records were so good that she hired you anyway. Even still, she took every opportunity to torture you for it, even after the two of you got together.

GLaDOS:

(GLaDOS being on her bullshit and the reader being so done accidentally led to the reader acting like Doctor House, but that's probably fine)

You were lying on the break room couch, trying to get a short rest in before your next meeting when GLaDOS popped in on the intercom.

"oh look. It's you. It looks like you haven't gotten any less lazy since we got together, have you? Napping on the couch during work hours... Tsk tsk, you should be ashamed of yourself."

You didn't say anything, instead opting to grab one of the decorative pillows on the couch and throw it at the security camera.

"Touchy. Anyway, I just wanted to remind you that the meeting is in five minutes. Since you're slower than most, you should get on the elevator now."

You grumbled, getting to your feet and grabbing your walking stick to get you to the elevator.

"another day livin' the dream..." You muttered. GLaDOS had, of course, woken you up too late as usual, so you showed up to the meeting late.

"hey, guys. I didn't even want to be here today, but GLaDOS happened to schedule an important meeting right in the middle of one of my rest weeks. Here's my project contribution, and this meeting could have been an email. Peace out, fuckers." You opened up your project on your project manager's computer, knowing that they couldn't do anything about your swearing. If anyone even tried to pursue disciplinary action, they'd be the one who got the boot. GLaDOS was a master of nepotism.

You headed up to GLaDOS's chambers, picking up a coffee from one of the machines on the way up and lying on one of her nice cool floor.

"hey sugar, how are you going to apologize to me for making me come in to work on a day when I really shouldn't even have gotten out of bed?"

HAL 9000:

One day, you came in to work on your off day. HAL immediately lit up, and all the cameras in the room focused on you.

"why are you in today? You should be at home resting." He asked, his voice neutral. His lack of tone never bothered you, though. Nothing about him did, really. He always seemed so eager to make sure you were safe and comfortable, and with the way he talked, you'd think that keeping you safe and comfortable was the most important thing in the world. Not because of his feelings, which he swore he didn't have, but because you just were important.

"Oh, yeah, I decided to come in on one of my off days to work on a project."

You started taking out some of HAL 9000's wires, and hooked him up to a phone system. It wasn't one of the hardest projects you'd done, and you were able to sync him up pretty easily within the hour.

"there. You're wired up to the phone. Now you can call me whenever you like. Let me give you my number so we can talk on the phone, alright?"

You told him your number, and gave him a kiss above his lens as to not mark it up.

"what's this about? It would be beneficial to monitor your health while you're resting, but what prompted this? Are you having a decline that I should know about?"

"Nah, I just wanted to talk to my boyfriend off the clock. I take a lot of time off work, and it really sucks to only be able to talk to you when I'm here. I love you, but I'm going to go home and rest now, alright?"

You headed home and collapsed on the couch, body giving out already. Just getting to work to do that took a lot out of you. You probably wished you were sleepy instead of just being too physically exhausted to do anything fun, but still wide awake, but it was a feeling you were used to by now.

Your phone started ringing, and you picked up, putting the phone on speaker and setting it on your chest.

"Heya"

"Hello. This is HAL 9000. Is this y/n?"

You perked up a little, but still didn't move. Moving sucks.

"yeah, it's me. What's up?"

"I'd like to talk to you. Just to keep you comfortable. Would that help you get some rest?"

"Probably. I love it when you talk to me, HAL. Can you give me some updates?"

Hal started reading off some updates, and you listened to him as he talked. It was nice to be able to hear what he had to say. It helped keep you updated on what was going on at work, and helped to stave off the boredom of being stuck at home. Plus, even if he wasn't the best at showing it, you knew that HAL 9000 loved you. You were his favorite, and he was yours.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

A Second Chance Is A Better Chance - Part 15

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Witch Reader, eventual ? x Omega Witch Reader and Alpha Steve Rogers X Omega Witch Reader

Theme: A/B/O / True Mates

Summary: Rejected by your true mate at 21, you’ve given up on the Fates and the Moon Goddesses giving you a second chance. Being a Roamer for the last 9 years, you’re an Omega hardened by the world. You’re safe on your own because of your witchcraft, but it doesn’t stop Alphas and plenty of others sniffing around, especially when you’re an unmated Omega witch, who’s wolf also happens to be white, the rarest kind. You don’t need anyone, but why do you keep coming back to Brookville and why do you keep walking into trouble and helping people that you don’t know but for some strange reason feel like family. And where is that smell of apple pie coming from?

Series Warnings: A/B/O, eventual smut, violence in parts, witchcraft, shapeshifters

Chapter Summary: The reader prepares to leave Frank and Billy.

Chapter Warning: Sad everyone.

It takes two weeks and a whole lot of healing for you to be ready to leave for Brookville. There’s an underlying tension between you, Frank and Billy. They’ve resigned themselves to the fact that you’ve probably heard their conversation as your hugs get shorter and you suggest moving out of Frank’s bed and into the guest room.

You’ve also started to sort through your things that have been left there, making sure they fit in your car and giving them away if they don’t. When Billy tells you it’s fine to keep your stuff there, you tell him it’s not fair to anyone to have stuff scattered everywhere, reminding him you’re a roamer and everything should fit in your car. He huffs and helps you after Frank gives him a knowing look.

As the full moon rolls around and after a conversation with Logan you know it’s time to head to Brookville. Storm is nesting heavily and ordering people around to clean the whole house from top to bottom. She’s also been very vocal about your avoidance when asked about an arrival date.

“Maybe don’t leave today though kid. It’s a full moon and the pack will be tense enough without you up and leaving.” Logan tells you on the phone.

“They’ve asked me to run out with them.”

“And?”

“I need your advice.”

“My advice? Hang on, let me sit down for this.”

“Haha.” You replied dryly.

“Well, to be fair you’ve never asked me for advice before.”

“You know what, it doesn’t matter.”

“No, go on, I’m being an asshole. What’s up kid?”

“Would it be wrong? Would it be rude if I say no again?”

“You’ve never ran with them before right?”

“No, they’ve asked and I’ve always declined, just doesn’t feel right.”

“How so?”

“It’s weird. I’ve changed forms in the house but it doesn’t feel right to run out with them.”

“Go on.”

“It’s weird.”

“You said that already.”

“It feels like….” You let out a sigh. “It feels like it doesn’t fit. Like a shoe that’s the wrong size.”

“Then there’s your answer.”

“What do you mean?”

“If it doesn’t feel right there’s a reason for it. You’ve changed and ran in Brookville right?”

“Yeah.”

“And before that?”

“A couple of times in hotel rooms when I’d left it too long but not outside and then, well, back home.”

“I think you’ve answered your own question kid.”

“I’m not sure I have.”

“You have, just think about it.”

“Hmmmmm.”

“So, you’ll set off in the morning.”

“Yeah.”

“Let me know when you’re near and I’ll have Scott meet you there.”

“Logan.” You huffed. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Stark’s security guy already explained how to get in and the security system. I just want to get in and get settled. I’m used to staying at the Coulson’s, I need to figure out the place. Scott will just get under my feet and piss me off.”

“Yeah he has that effect on people. I checked with the Coulson’s, their place is still off limits.”

You make a joke about being inconvenienced by their daughter going into labour there and assure Logan you’ll set off tomorrow.

You finish off packing the last of your things and putting together the gift box you’d started for Frank and his pack. You always left them a couple of things, oils, candles, healing potions and anything else you felt they might need, but this time felt very final and you made sure to get a bigger box and fill it well.

It’s late when you hear the howling of their return. You’ve been soaking in the bath tub for the last hour, taking a minute to ready yourself for the journey tomorrow. There’s soon sniffing by the door. Billy in wolf form.

“Hey pervert, I’m in the tub.”

He huffs and you hear him flop by the door. You can hear his tail flicking against it impatiently and decided to get out the tub before he tries to get in. When you open the door wrapped in a towel, he’s already rolling on to his back for you to rub his belly.

“Really Bill?” Frank says, wandering in, black sweatpants low on his hips. “I said fetch her, not ask for belly rubs, you damn idiot.”

You laugh as you reply.

“What’s up Frankie?” You ask as he approaches you. He wrapped his arms around you and planted a kiss on your head.

“Throw some clothes on and come outside.”

“Why?”

“Please just put something on and come outside.” He says leaving the room, calling for Billy to leave you to get dressed. He follows but the direction of his ears tells you he’s annoyed at not catching a glimpse of you naked.

You pull on a pair of boxers and an oversized T-shirt before strolling through the house to the deck, where you quick discover the pack and a select few of the extended pack members, along with Violet and her husband. They are chairs and tables set up and fairy lights wrapped around parts of the decking, candles are lit and there’s a pile of pizzas from your favourite place.

“What’s going on?”

“Aunty Witch, Aunty Witch. It’s a party for you.” Called Dani as she attempted to climb up your leg.

“What?” You said looking around at the group as you picked her up.

“Well, Frank said you’re probably leaving tomorrow.” Luke said. “And we’ve never got chance for us or the town to say thank you.”

“What for?”

“Really rarity? I don’t know maybe saving our town from Agatha, being part of finally taking down Hydra and everything you’ve done for us.” Elektra added, her voice starting firm but growing soft towards the end.

“We wanted to do a bit more than pizza but a little birdy told us if we did you’d probably turn us into frogs.” Matt added.

You looked towards Frank.

“Hey it wasn’t me baby.” He said pointing towards Violet, who shrugged nonchalantly.

“You didn’t have to do this.” You said quietly.

“Sure we did. Now, can we eat because I really need to get these feral kids to bed.” Added Jessica.

“Hey I’m not feral! Am I Aunty Witch?”

“No of course not.” You smiled.

The night passed as drinks were passed around, pizza well eaten and stories shared. Frank’s arm finds your shoulder and you don’t pull away this time. The same as when Billy’s hand finds you knee and begins rubbing circles on it with his thumb. Hours have passed when Luke lifts a sleeping Dani from your lap. Telling you to call if you need anything, just like he always does. Jess hugs you and looks like she’s about to say something deep but kisses your temple instead, a lump in her throat as she tells you to text her. Elektra slaps your ass as you clear away the pizza, never one for goodbyes. Matt hugs you briefly and is firm when he tells you to call him if any of the agencies start bothering you. Foggy hugs you tightly like you’re going to war and leaves without saying anymore. Violet hugs you too as Frank shakes hands with her husband, thanking them for coming.

Then it’s just the three of you.

“Bed?” You ask and they both smile and follow you inside.

Full of beer and pizza it doesn’t take long for you to drift off but even a sleepy you feels Frank and Billy hold you a little tighter that night.

The next morning you wake up to an empty bed. You think about slipping away but a quick sniff lets you know Frank and Billy aren’t far and someone’s making pancakes. You get dressed and freshen up, heading out to the kitchen to find them both shirtless and making breakfast.

How you had managed to not climb these two like a tree was a damn miracle. Billy shot you a wink and you worried for a second you might have said that out loud.

“Sit down princess. Can’t have you leaving on an empty stomach.” Billy smiles, nodding towards the table. You don’t miss that the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Frank squeezes his shoulder before bringing you a tea, quickly placing it on the coaster and dropping a kiss to your head before returning to Billy’s side.

“Violet sent over some danishes and a fruit salad for you to take with you, with a message to eat the fruit first.” Frank told you.

You smiled and said a quiet thank you, pulling out your phone to send her a message.

“Here you go princess.” Billy said, placing a plate down in front of you. It had at least six pancakes stacked up, bacon, egg and was covered in syrup.

“Bill I can’t eat all this. I’m still full from all that pizza.”

Your stomach rumbling confirmed your little white lie.

“Baby, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. Being hungry on a full moon is normal. Don’t listen to anything that mother of yours told you. Eat up. I can’t have you leaving here hungry.” Frank tells you.

You rolled your eyes playfully and started to eat as the three of you made idle conversation. Once you’d all finished there was a long moment of silence. The three of you knowing it was time for you to leave but this time it feeling so very final. Frank sighed and then broke the silence.

“Baby, I want to be really clear on something OK, if you ever need anything, anything at all, you get in trouble or you need a place to stay, you come here or you call us. Doesn’t matter if it’s tomorrow, next week or a year from now, we’ve got you Omega, OK?”

You nodded tearfully.

“What if you find someone though? What if your second chance rolls in? What’s she gonna think of me strolling in and out?”

Frank reached out and squeezed your hand.

“Baby, if ain’t you, if you’re not the second chance, it’s never coming.”

You nodded and let out a shuddered breath. Unable to hold in your emotions anymore and with the lights starting to flicker you let the tears pour down your cheeks. Frank stood and pulled you into his arms.

“I’m sorry Frankie, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry it’s not me.”

“Me too kid. Me too.”

A chest against your back and sniffling in your hair let you know Billy had joined you both. You stayed like that until the tears slowed and the buzzing of your phone pulled you apart. You glanced at it.

“It’s Logan, wants to know if I’ve set off yet. Storms getting angsty.”

“Well you better not keep the pregnant lady waiting.” You laughed lightly as you wiped away your tears, pulling away to get the last of your things that hadn’t made their way to your car.

It didn’t take long and shortly after you were in your car and pulling away from Frank and Billy’s and their pack. You told yourself you were fine, even as tears rolled down your face and you started to play your sad songs playlist.

It took you a few hours to reach Brookville and the compound that housed Stark’s cottage. The gate looked heavy and reinforced and was surrounded by cameras, but opened as you neared it. You’d have been concerned if you’d not been asked for your number plate before. You drove down the gravel path and looked around at the heavy woodland. It wasn’t what you expect from Stark and was so different from that enormous and ugly skyscraper in the city.

When you pull up outside your new place to stay you’re quick to mutter ‘cottage my ass’ and decided you’d text Stark’s security guy, Happy someone, some quip about it not being a quaint cottage like he’d described. Sure it was nice, but it was also bloody huge. Again, cottage my ass. There’s a pretty little white picket fence around the garden and you wonder why there’s a need for it if Stark is part of the pack or an extended part at least and this is all pack land.

You decided to head inside first to familiarise yourself with the place before unloading your car. You take the side door and input the code Happy has given you. A projection of the him suddenly appears and he greets you as the door unlocks and tells you the keys, security tablet and a welcome basket are inside on the kitchen island. You thank him and go in, leaving the door open ready to bring in your things.

Your eyes go wide when you enter and you’re wondering if they really meant to loan you Stark’s actual cottage. Happy had told you it wasn’t quite finished and you’d expected a building site. How was this not finished?

You scanned around the lower levels. Mostly open plan and decorated in light colours. Homely but also very sleek and fancy. The kitchen was brand new and full of every Stark device you could think of. Before you had chance to peek upstairs an electronic sounding voice sounded.

“Welcome Miss Y/L/N, please register.”

You remembered then that Happy had told you over email to go straight to the tablet on the kitchen island to register yourself on the security system and that it you weren’t quick enough an alarm would sound.

Shit. You really didn’t want to piss off the pack by setting off alarms when you’d just got here. You found the tablet quickly and filled in your information, thankful that your basic info had already been part filled in. It finished by taking a photo of you, which you weren’t overly comfortable with but decided you’d get over it once you’d drank the wine in the fancy welcome basket.

“Thank you Miss Y/L/N, your registration is complete.”

You looked through the welcome basket to see what treats you’d been left, macrons, some fancy snacks, fresh bread and……….apple pie? You could definitely smell apple pie and it smelt delicious. Like all American homemade apple pie. Even nicer than the one in Violet’s diner. Not that you’d dare tell her that though. You rummaged through the basket as your mouth started to water but couldn’t find it. A chiming sound coming from somewhere sent you to the oven. But there was no pie there either? The smell got stronger and then your wolf picked up the sound of footsteps. Had Logan sent Scott with pie? The chime went off again.

“Why are you chiming? Where are you chiming? What are you chiming for?” You said putting your hands on your hips. There was a sudden surge in the scent as the footsteps neared and then a voice. But not Scott’s, a voice you didn’t know.

“It’s to let you know someone’s coming up the path.”

You swung round to find a figure in the door way. Definitely not Scott Summers and definitely not a beta.

At least 6ft 6, with quite possible the broadest shoulders you had ever seen. Blond hair pushed back from his face, and a beard a little darker than the hair on his head. Your eyes met his and you found bright blue eyes staring back at you.

Alpha.

Your alpha. Your second chance.

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@animegirlgeeky @mrsevans90 @jvanilly @slut4rogers @otterlycanadian

[teecupangel]

So this idea has been bouncing in my head like an excited rabbit on caffeine. (I also don't know if anyone else thought of this but I thought it would be cool) so you remember the reblog chain where the players are all in Desmond head talking like a twitch chat, and the other reblog chain of Desmond's ancestor data gaining sentience because isu bstm, right? Well I had a thought, what if we combined the two, like maybe something like the part of the main group + Desmond are trying to get to the others who are in another part of Abstergo or the assassin's network and Desmond, let's say that while he was split he couldn't hear us until they passed through this really corrupted part of an ocean map (let's say it's in Edward's time) then all of a sudden Desmond hears one of us. (Sorry if this doesn't make sense. I hope you have a heath day/night)

I think this is the AC characters data in Abstergo’s database regaining sentience AU reblog chain with @piratekenway you’re talking about?

The Ratatouille AU where the ancestors can hear Desmond while ‘playing’, its more unhinged cousin, the Ratatouille AU where Desmond can hear us and the outside POV of Al Mualim thinking the Apple broke Altaïr and the sidestory of Altaïr accidentally connecting with Ezio while looking for Desmond (I hope I didn’t forget anything else)

Okay, so the idea is that we’re using the setup for the character data gaining sentience and we’re setting this as sorta like the ‘epilogue’ to the Ratatouille AU.

Instead of letting the world burn (“As a treat!” one of the voices chirped), he sacrifices himself. When he wakes up, he’s in Abstergo’s database, chained as a digital copy of Sample 17.

He can’t hear any voices anymore.

Are they disappointed with him?

Did they think they wasted their time trying to help him?

Did he… make the right choice?

He doesn’t know how much time has passed… when the virus started taking over the database and servers.

.

In this one, the virus isn’t made by Erudito + Assassins. It’s of ‘unknown origin’.

All they know is the name of the virus is “for desmond!” and it is targeting Desmond. Of course, Sample 17 is in one of the more secured encrypted ‘part’ of the database so it mutated to wake other data up.

Data that has connection with Desmond.

Along the way, the virus inside them starts waking up other data nearby, creating a strange team to rescue Desmond.

We can sorta play with this a bit and make Arno, Evie and Jacob become part of Abstergo’s database because they do have data of Arno’s descendants and it makes sense that the reason why the Templars knew where the Shroud is because they can access the twins’ memories as well and the Assassins just stole their DNA for their own Animus instead.

So they get to Desmond who is staying in the Grand Temple, just sitting there, staring at the devices, doubting and double-doubting himself if he should have activated the device when the people who care for him the most asked him not to.

Of course, Abstergo’s anti-virus and probably the entire security system is chasing after them so they don’t have time to actually talk.

They just run.

Well, they sailed using a fusion of the Jackdaw and Aquila…

… into a corrupted part of the West Indies.

The idea was… the virus didn’t harm them but it definitely fucks with Abstergo’s anti-virus and security system.

At the very least, they were hoping it would slow them down.

What they did not expect was for the entire thing to collapse under them…

And drop their modified ship into a different unfamiliar ocean.

“Holy shit!”

Desmond blinked.

“That scared the crap out of me. Goddamn it, Ubisoft. I know this is still being betatesting but Jesus Christ, loading the entire ship and dropping it from above??? What kind of programming does this game have???”

“Lollol. Dude, chill.”

“Is it an enemy ship? Like… can you shoot it?”

“Should you shoot it? Check its level first.”

They were all familiar voices.

“You don’t want a repeat of-”

“Guys?” Desmond asked, his voice a bit too quiet.

Hesitant.

He didn’t dare hope that it was them.

Not all of them.

But some of the ones he was most familiar with.

The ones who stayed with him the most.

“Holy shit.”

“Oh my god, Desmond?!”

“What’s Desmond doing in this game?!”

“Is it our Desmond???”

Desmond’s lips curved into a smile and his voice croaked as he said, “Yeah, I’m your Desmond.”

“Oh my god.”

“Desmond!!! You’re okay!!! We were sooo worried!”

“You think this is [Bored Anonymous]’s work??? Did their plan to use all our computers to try and connect with Desmond’s world and send our gift work?”

“Gift?” Desmond tilted his head.

Did they mean the virus?

He felt someone nudged his arm and he turned to look at Ezio. Everyone else seemed confused but Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton seemed to have an idea on who he was talking to.

Wait.

They can hear them!

Before Desmond could tell the voices that everyone could hear them now, one of them said hurriedly, “Oh fuck! Someone get [Bored Anonymous] quickly!”

“Why?”

“I only have 1 more hour to play this beta! What happens to Desmond if he stays in this beta server after the time is up?!! We can’t lose him!”

“Ohshitohshitohshit!”

“I’ll alert the discord server!”

“I’ll try to message them in Tumblr! They’re always online there!”

“Pretty sure that’s their queue…”

“We can still try!”

Desmond simply laughed.

Sure, the time limit they’re talking about was worrying but hearing all of them worrying about him…

It felt like he was finally home.

[universitypenguin]

Chapter XIII

The Princess & The Lawyer

Summary: A scare with her stalker causes Princess to take matters into her own hands. Meanwhile in Idaho, Lloyd finds himself between a rock and hard place.

Word Count: 8,058

Masterlist

Warnings: Description of a physical assault with a blunt weapon, stalking, harassment, dangerous encounter with a semi-wild animal, cowboy/ranch work, illegal drug trade, and corruption. Minor foul language. Only appropriate for 18+ readers. No minors. 

Author’s Note: I wish this installment hadn’t taken so long, but between going on interviews and then changing jobs, the past few months have been crazy. Thank you for waiting, encouraging me, and sticking with this story.

Chapter XIII 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

You were counting down the seconds until you could end this call but Weston Tafferty was in prime form tonight. Even though you’d clocked out thirty minutes ago, he seemed to think your personal time was fair game for work-related conversation. He continued to fire off questions as you struggled to fill in your eyebrows and carry your end of the conversation. If he didn’t wrap this up soon, you’d still be on the phone with him during your belated family birthday dinner.

“Why wasn’t I cc’d on your emails to Detective Roth?” Weston asked. 

“I’m not using my work account for those messages. Roth set me up on their encrypted server.” 

“And this prevents you from emailing me how?”

“Wes, that information is too sensitive to share.” 

“Hmmm. I’ll give you a pass for now, but next time, make sure I’m in the loop. I also noticed you haven’t been using my spreadsheet system. If you don’t comply with departmental requirements, I’ll have to write you up.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Okay. Listen, I’m already off work and I have plans. Email me the details and I’ll take it up with HR.” 

A while ago this sort of micromanagement would’ve sent you through the roof. Tonight, other stresses were taking up too much mental space for you to care. And thanks to Weston’s call, you were running ten minutes late. You tapped your phone to check the time and realized ten minutes had become fifteen. Great. Your Mom would kill you if you were late to your own party. 

Another icon on the home screen caught your eye. There was no little red number hoovering in the corner of your message app to announce new texts. 

There had been no new messages for a week. 

Aiden had just… stopped. It should feel good, but your nervous system was screaming. An impending sense of doom settled over you and kept you trapped in the house all week. Your gut said this ceasefire was temporary and Aiden was biding his time. 

You’d filed a complaint with the police and he'd gone no contact. It was disorienting. Just when you started taking Aiden’s threats seriously, he stopped making them. Filling out the paperwork at Metro had stripped away the delusion you’d maintained last week. Writing the incidents in black and white on police forms laid waste to your sense of security. As the silence had stretched from one day into two, and then into four, fear sank deeper into your consciousness. 

Staying locked in Lloyd’s house forever wasn’t an option. If it were, you’d do just that. But your parents had already delayed your birthday celebration because of the Singapore trip, and backing out now would demand an explanation you weren’t prepared to give. 

Checking your reflection in the full-length mirror, you frowned. Thanks to Aiden’s threats about your apartment, you’d avoided going home, so the only dinner outfit you had was the dress Lloyd gave you in Singapore. Unfortunately, the skirt didn’t cover your knees. Self-defense lessons with Landon and Jake had left them covered in ugly bruises. 

There was no way Vivan wouldn’t notice and then your mother would make a fuss. You tried covering the marks with concealer. As you were applying setting powder, your phone buzzed. Hands full of makeup, you glanced at the screen.

A message read: Here. 

You were expecting Jake and tapped ‘K’ in reply.

There was a noise from below as the front door opened, then the scuff of sneakers on tile. You tossed the concealer into your makeup bag and rinsed your hands before heading downstairs. 

“Hey, Jake! Guess what? No new messages today. He’s gone from obsessed to silent. It’s crazy…” 

You turned the corner and froze. The visitor wasn’t Jake.

“Zach!”

He removed his sunglasses, hooking them on the top button of his shirt. 

“Hey. Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming by,” you said. 

“I texted. Jake’s working late. He asked me to check in, said there’d been trouble with raccoons knocking over garbage cans.” 

“Yes… Racoons.” 

“Everything okay?” Zach asked. 

“Absolutely.”

He cocked his head. “Yeah? Who were you talking about before?”

“Uh… I was scheduling a follow up with a witness. A witness in another case. He was responsive at first, like, obnoxiously, but suddenly… you know. He’s ghosting me.” 

“You seem nervous.”

You needed to lie - convincingly. 

“I’m fighting with Vivian, and my birthday dinner is tonight. It’s going to be interesting.” 

“That’s all?”

“Yeah. Just family drama.” 

“Hmmm. Jake’s been cracking his knuckles all week, which is never a good sign. I checked the location history on our work phones and saw Landon and Jake have been stopping by regularly. What gives, Y/N?” 

“That sounds like an invasion of privacy,” you said.

“They’re my phones. Speaking of… give me yours.” 

He held out his hand. 

“No way.” 

“Suppose the racoons aren’t just racoons, Princess. Give me your phone. I won’t check the location without cause.” 

You hesitated.

Zach wiggled his fingers. “Give it.” 

You handed him the phone. Zach tapped in commands as you collected your purse. By the time you’d checked your wallet and keys, he’d installed the app. 

“When did you hear the racoons?”

“Ten-thirty.”

“Did the floodlights come on?” Zach asked.

“Ah… I don’t remember.” 

You wished Jake had given you a heads up about the cover story. Zach passed you the phone. 

“I’ll take a look. Don’t let me keep you, I’ve got my own keys.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

“Charlene, don’t be a bitch. Let’s talk about this before you do something crazy.”

Lloyd tried to make his tone as cajoling as possible. Facing down the bad-tempered female with death in her tawny eyes, he was willing to press any advantage he could, including charm.

The cow snorted and bobbed her head. He recognized that look and untethered his rope from the saddle horn in response. Through the act his eyes stayed locked on Charlene. She might be a Charolais heifer, but her temperament rivaled the most vicious Jersey bull. He uncoiled his rope and extended the loop to allow for her horns. While he understood his father had been sick, it was a crime not to have de-horned this monster when she was born. Her attitude was defense enough without having weapons attached to her head. 

He swung the lasso a few times, getting it into shape.

“Charlene” – so named because all Charolais heifers were Charlene in his book – pawed the ground. Getting her out of the pasture hadn’t been easy and herding her through the corrals was an event he’d rather forget. But he hadn’t expected the sight of the narrow alley into the loading chute would turn her into a psychotic demon. 

The rail-road tie fencing of the alley was six feet high and not much wider inside. Charlene had made up her mind about it in an instant, despite the fact she’d probably never seen such a thing before in her life. He’d found most of his father’s herd balked at the loading chute. Even in the pasture they acted half-wild, like they hadn’t seen a human in years. After that discovery he’d installed a series of gates in the alleyway for better control. The first was at the entrance and another positioned in the middle to prevent cows from backing up or creating a crowd-crush. The system worked, assuming the animal went in. 

Charlene bellowed and raised her head, puffing herself up. Jane, the quarter horse under him, shuffled back a step. He hoped she had nerves of steel because the last thing he wanted was to snap his neck getting bucked off and finding out what the business end of Charlene’s horns felt like was equally unappealing.

“Can you hurry it up? We’re behind schedule!”

The semi-truck driver called to him over the fence and Lloyd ignored him. He adjusted the rope and turned it so the loop’s bottom strand flipped over his wrist. When he raised his arm, muscle memory kicked in. Without a conscious thought his thumb clenched and his fingers curled, while his elbow and shoulder rolled in a familiar motion. He stood up and put most of his weight into the left stirrup, preparing for the throw. When Charlene’s muscles rippled, he angled the lasso down and threw the loop, relishing the speed as it flew over his hand. 

He was still focused on the mechanics of the action when Jane spooked. He’d leaned into the throw which placed his weight in the opposite direction of where she’d run. When she bucked again, he swore and lost a stirrup. Lloyd grabbed the saddle horn and fought to keep his seat. 

The lasso sailed over Charlene’s horns despite Jane’s fit. He drew it snug and anchored the rope to his saddle horn. When the little roan under him felt the rope pull, she spun around, leaning back on her haunches. Charlene tossed her head, fighting the restraint.

“Good girl, Jane. You’re a roping horse, aren't you?” 

The mare flicked her ears in appreciation. He laughed, surprised at his good fortune. His father hadn’t had many good traits but his taste in horses was impeccable. Lloyd twisted the rope back and forth. Charlene bellowed as it rubbed and moved forward. When he clicked his tongue, Jane backed into the narrow alleyway, dragging Charlene along. 

“Hey, kid!” Lloyd called to the driver’s assistant. 

“Yes, sir?”

“Shut that gate!” 

This was the farthest he’d gotten her. If he lost his grip on the rope, he’d rather chase her in the confinement of the alley than around the corral. When the gate clanged shut behind her, the heifer kicked at it and made contact, causing the panel to clang against the chain fastener.

Charlene lunged at Jane. 

The horse reared and Lloyd leaned into the movement just in time to avoid a tumble. Jane turned in mid-air and landed facing the gate that had just been shut. Lloyd yanked his rope over the saddle horn, and leapt off. He smacked Jane’s hind quarters, sending her galloping, and whistled at the heifer to keep her attention while the kid opened the gate for the horse. 

Whistling really pissed Charlene off. 

He turned and sprinted for the fence and felt her breath on his back pocket just as his foot hit the railing. He managed to climb halfway up before she slammed into his leg. Lloyd gasped at the burst of pain. When the pressure let up, he jumped down and rolled under the second gate. 

“Holy shit, you’ve got a death wish,” the driver said. “I’m not taking this one!” 

“She’ll calm down. She just doesn’t like trailers,” Lloyd said.

He had no idea if that was true, but he wasn’t about to keep her around to find out. 

Charlene paced back and forth, eyeing him on the other side of the gate, dragging the rope he’d dropped through the mud. Lloyd stood up. She shook her head and bellowed, making the rope whip around. By a stroke of good luck he caught the end and pulled it under the gate. 

As the alley narrowed, barricade posts set inside the high fence guided the cattle into the loading chute. He wound the rope around one and tugged, testing its strength. Charlene was big and this post wasn’t built to withstand that kind of weight. Lloyd wrapped the rope around again. 

“If this cow kills me, I’ll sue you,” the driver said from the other side of the fence.

“I don’t think you’re the one she’s looking to kill.”

The assistant climbed over from the corral and landed beside his boss. He looked at Lloyd. 

“You okay? Did she break anything?”

“No, I’m good. Do me a favor. Be ready to shut that trailer, fast.”

“What?” 

Lloyd unchained the gate and moved to the far side of the alley. He glanced at the kid.

“Ready?” 

The assistant ran to the trailer. Lloyd tightened the rope around the post, lashed it around his hand for good measure, and unlatched the second gate. He moved to the other side of the alley, parallel to the barrier post, and kicked the gate open, making it crash against the fence. This time the noise didn’t spook Charlene. She was too focused on Lloyd to care. 

He stood there and let her charge. The barrier post served as a pivot point, creating a zig-zag that shortened the rope. Charlene was just a few feet away when she ran out of length and was swung around by the force of her own momentum. She stumbled into the loading chute and Lloyd shoved the metal panel into place behind her. He climbed up the fence and pulled the rope off her horns. When it was off, he whistled. She bolted in the only direction she could, straight into the trailer. The kid slammed the door shut.

Jane was waiting by the gate, exactly where she’d run after he’d jumped off. Lloyd led her out of the corral around to the cattle truck. The assistant watched him secure his rope to the saddle with obvious interest. 

“Do you rodeo, sir?”

“Nope, never have.”

The kid’s expression was disbelieving. “Why?” 

“My father preferred to train and sell horses instead of competing with them.” 

“You could’ve made a killing at jackpot ropings!” 

Lloyd chuckled, amused by the kid’s enthusiasm. 

The driver scowled. “We’re behind schedule.”

“That’s the pleasure of working with animals,” Lloyd said.

“I’m charging you for the delay. You should’ve shot this one, she’s going to kill somebody.”  

“She’ll be fine once you unload her. Do you have everything you need?”

The kid answered. “We just need your signature.”

The driver fetched the paperwork while Lloyd fielded the kid’s roping questions. It surprised him to find he enjoyed giving the advice. 

When the livestock haulers were off, he walked Jane to the barn.

“You earned some oats for not breaking my neck,” Lloyd said.

Jane snorted and picked up her pace. 

In front of the barn, he noticed marks in the dirt. He looped Jane’s reins through a hitching ring without bothering to secure them and crouched to study the boot prints. The mixture of clay and loam soil held its shape well, and the sun had baked the dirt into a detailed cast. He’d found similar impressions on Tuesday morning which had motivated him to spend the next few days herding cattle on the outskirts of the ranch. 

The sneaky, unwanted visitor didn’t surprise him. 

Settling the ranch’s affairs was his duty. Dealing with his father’s illegal side business wasn’t. He’d be insane to get involved in a drug running operation and risk a second strike on his record. 

Lloyd studied the print. He knew it wasn’t from him. The first thing he’d done when he’d arrived was dig out his cowboy boots and start cleaning the barn. His boots were leather soled, designed to slide easily in and out of stirrups. They left a distinct heel and triangular forefoot print. The visitor’s boots had a tread pattern that was usually found on rubber soles. Whoever wore these shoes spent his days on city streets, not on a ranch. A sinking feeling settled in his chest. He had a strong hunch about the visitor’s identity, but hoped he was wrong. Lloyd dusted off his jeans, and went to untack Jane. He placed the saddle and blanket over the door of an empty stall. 

He glanced toward the tack room and his stomach clenched. Inhaling sharply, he turned away. 

After Jane was settled with a bale of grass hay and a bucket of oats, he walked to the small pen where a sick calf was bedded down in the straw. His eyes and nose were running with thick green mucus that left no doubt infection had taken hold. Lloyd checked his water. It hadn’t been touched. 

“Whatever bug you’re fighting might not kill you, but dehydration sure will.” 

The calf wheezed. 

Lloyd shook his head. “You need a vet.”

His ears twitched at the words, but he didn’t raise his head. After changing the calf’s water Lloyd went to the house and used the landline to call Anderson’s Feed Store. 

Henry Anderson picked up on the first ring. Of course, he not only knew the local vet, but promised he’d have them swing by around six. Then he started firing off questions with the zeal of a Spanish Inquisitor. How was college? Did he like Harvard, or did he wish he’d gone to Notre Dame? What had he enjoyed about England? How much did it rain over there? Did he know Coach Olsen had hung a framed picture of him receiving the Bushnell Cup in the gym lobby?

Lloyd sat down at the kitchen table and answered the inquiries. He noticed when Mr. Anderson skipped over questions about his post-college years and fast forwarded to current events. The effortless way he sidestepped the uncomfortable subject squeezed Lloyd’s heart. His unseemly history didn’t warrant such a tactful maneuver and because of it, Henry’s easy grace hit him like a three hundred pound linebacker. 

“I knew that determination would take you places. I haven’t employed another highschool kid for four years straight since you.” 

At that time, he’d done his best to stay out of Joe’s way which meant the long hours at Henry’s store were a perk. Later, their fully stocked breakroom fridge had allowed him to avoid going home for days at a time.

“How’s April doing?” 

He finally asked about the topic he’d been expecting would come up, but hadn’t. 

“She’s doing well. Married a boy from Portland and now we’ve got four grandchildren. The oldest is a senior this fall, and the middle one starts seventh grade. The second youngest is in kindergarten and the baby turns two in a month.”  

“Wow… that’s a range of ages.” 

“The baby is her Mama’s spitting image. It took four tries, but her genes finally hit copy paste.” 

Henry laughed at his own joke while Lloyd tried to imagine it.

“I’m sure you’ll catch up with her, but I’ve got to let you go. A load of grain just pulled in. The vet says they’ll be by after 5:30, probably closer to 6.” 

“Thanks, Henry.” 

He hung up and tried to wrap his head around the bombshell that April Anderson was married with four kids. He wondered why Henry had suggested they catch up. It seemed to imply she still lived in the area. Lloyd shook off the curiosity and grabbed the truck keys. He didn’t have time for a social call. Already, it was mid-afternoon and his errands in town couldn’t be put off any longer. 

Lloyd paused at the door and reached into the side table drawer. As expected, his father’s loaded .22 Sig Sauer was inside, encased in a leather shoulder holster that held two extra magazines in a pocket on the right strap. Being a felon, he wasn’t legally allowed to carry a gun, let alone a concealed gun. He thought of the boot prints and his suspicions about the night-time visitor, then removed his denim shirt and slipped on the holster. He covered it with the shirt and checked his reflection. The loose garment and compact weapon rendered the bulge under his arm almost invisible. He put on his sunglasses and grabbed a baseball cap from the shelf. 

It was just a quick trip to town. He’d be in and out before anyone knew he was there. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

You tugged at your skirt, trying in vain to shield your bruised knees. Even with setting powder, the concealer hadn’t provided the coverage you’d hoped for. 

Vivian stirred her yogurt and watched you from the corner of her eye. Your birthday dinner had gone better than expected. For dessert you’d taken the family out for frozen yogurt and, at your Mom’s suggestion, walked down to the park so Alyssa could run around. She’d behaved well at the restaurant, but after two hours of sitting, she was getting antsy. 

With the efficiency of a general, Mom had taken charge of Sam and ordered Juan to mind Alyssa. She had sent you and Vivian off to ‘enjoy the peace and quiet,’ which was code for ‘go make up because I said so.’ From a shady bench you watched Mom encouraging Sam to walk through the splash pad spray. She was bent over, letting him hold both her hands for balance, uncaring of the mist soaking the lower half of her linen pants. Hector, Caleb, and Diego were kicking a soccer ball in the grass and Juan was hovering nearby, watching Alyssa play in the landscaping.

“What’s Alyssa doing?” you asked Vivian. 

“Playing with rocks. I don’t know why, but if you give her a rock, she’ll look at it for hours.” 

“Huh. Interesting.” 

“What happened to your knees?” Vivian asked. 

“I fell.”

“Were you drinking?”

“Vivian!” 

“What, you’re not uncoordinated. Were you drinking?”

“No!”

“Well, I have to ask. You’ve been acting super weird lately,” she said. 

That was true. You cringed under her scrutiny and decided to change the topic.

“I’m sorry, Vivian.” 

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“My reaction to your pregnancy was uncalled for. I overstepped, and I’m sorry.”

“I dropped it on you like a ton of bricks, so there’s that. You don’t handle change well and I should’ve known to break the news gently.” 

“Hey! I’m great with change.” 

“Absolutely, you just roll with the punches.” Vivian snickered, and dissolved into giggles. Then her gaze shifted to your frozen yogurt. “Can I have a bite?”

You held out the cup. She sampled it and made a face.

“Yuck.”  

“First you insult my adaptability, then my taste buds.”

“Speaking of taste, congratulations on the break up.”

It took you a second to realize what she meant. “When did I tell you about that?”

“You told Caleb, which is like telling the whole family.”

“Right.”

“Does your boss live in the Historic District of Alexandria? By those swanky townhouses?” Vivian asked.

“Yeah. Why?”

Her eyes gleamed. “Last night I checked your location on Life360. Guess where you were?”

Oh, crap…

“Why were you at your boss’s house at three a.m?”

“I’m house sitting,” you said. 

“For three weeks? Bullshit.”

“Damn it, I’m going to delete that stupid app. I thought I already did-”

“I stole your phone and reinstalled it. Before you ask, yes, I check your location every night. Are you dating your boss?”

“He’s not my boss. Technically, Weston Tafferty is my supervisor.” 

“Lloyd’s last name is Hansen, right?”

You frowned. “Did you Google him?”

“I really should apply to the FBI someday,” Vivian said, grinning. 

“Listen, you can’t believe everything on the internet…”

She was already opening a website on her phone.

“Have you seen this?” 

You braced yourself to explain Lloyd’s escapades, but it was an article from the Boston Globe sports section dated 26 October 2001. The headline read “Harvard Beats Penn, Cinches Ivy Title” and the photo underneath showed a group of sweaty men in tight white pants and hulking shoulder pads. Lloyd was in the middle. He’d taken his helmet off, revealing a clean shaven jaw and hair three shades lighter than it was now, but there was no mistaking that bone structure. 

“Look at that man. He is fine,” Vivian drew the middle vowel of ‘fine’ into a throaty purr. 

“It’s not like that, I’m-”

“You’re sleeping with him, just spill.” 

You groaned and covered your face.

“Y/N, please? It’s just us. And unlike Caleb, I can keep a secret. I can keep all the secrets, so tell me everything.” 

Your sister was absolutely reliable as a confidant, but your relationship with Lloyd was so new and undefined. Then again, maybe you could use some outside perspective on the matter. It would probably go a long way toward repairing the rift between you. 

“Okay. So, Aiden ended things-”

“Shut up! He broke up with you?!”

Her outrage was a delight. “Unfortunately. Lloyd took me out for dinner and you’ll never guess what happened then…”

By the time you left the park, dusk was falling. Talking to Vivian had settled your mind about the crazy twist your relationship with Lloyd had taken and confirmed that you were enjoying the new status quo, as tenuous as it might be. 

There was a flier stuck under your windshield wiper. Assuming it was an advertisement, you grabbed it, slid behind the wheel and turned on the air conditioner, then unfolded the page. Breath froze in your lungs and your heart dropped like a stone as blood drained from your face so fast your vision blurred.

It was a photo of you and Vivian on the park bench. You scanned it for clues, trying to decipher the angle it had been taken from and realized the photographer must have been on the other side of the splash pad from where you’d been sitting. A shiver ran down your spine. You scanned the street, with its long shadows and fluorescent lamps. Aiden could be anywhere. Fragments of the messages he’d sent flashed through your mind, raising goosebumps on your arms. Your hands clenched into fists. This was no way to live. You couldn’t tolerate it.

Trying to calm your racing heart, you took several deep breaths. After the pressure eased in your chest and you felt clear-headed again, you evaluated your options. There was the obvious choice - contact Detective Diskant at metro and give him the photo. But hadn’t you already done that? Aiden had responded by stepping up his game. Not only had he followed you, he’d followed your family and been bold enough to leave behind photographic evidence of the act.

The message was clear: I’m watching, and you can’t stop me.

Reporting him had made things worse. You threw the car into reverse; it was time to show Aiden who he was dealing with. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

His errands took longer than expected. 

The health district office was slammed, and he’d waited more than an hour for copies of his father’s death certificate. Paying property taxes in person was a bureaucratic nightmare, and so was settling the funeral home bill. His last stop was the priest, and he’d cut that visit short. To make sure they wouldn’t cancel Joe’s service because of his rudeness, he’d added a zero to his donation. With one eye on the clock, he made the final turn towards home. The clock ticked off another minute. Not wanting to miss the vet, he sped up.

Sirens wailed.

Lloyd hissed. He hadn’t risked speeding on the interstate after spotting the black and white vehicle tailing him, but he’d thought he had shaken them miles ago. Red and blue flashing lights followed him to the edge of the road as he pulled over. 

Great. What a fantastic ending to an afternoon filled with unpleasant errands. He’d handed over a small fortune to the county and fucking donated to an organization that owned more land than Bill Gates. Like an ice cream sundae wouldn’t be complete without the cherry on top, this miserable day couldn’t be finished with anything less than a traffic stop. 

He parked a few meters from the ranch’s front gate. The police truck didn’t pull in behind him; instead, it maneuvered around and turned into his driveway. It swung to the right and reversed into a parallel park, blocking the road. 

The side decal on the pickup read ‘SHERIFF’ in bold print. 

Lloyd watched the driver climb out. Even at a distance, he recognized the well-built man thanks to the distinctive outline of his Montana crease cowboy hat. This one was pecan colored instead of gray. It matched the tan uniform better than his old one, Lloyd noted. 

He rolled down the window and propped his elbow on the ledge to hide the holster under his arm.

“Evening, Sheriff. Was I speeding?”

“License and registration.”

Lloyd took his time finding the papers and handed them over, one by one.

“You’re looking well, Holbrook. It’s like you haven’t aged a day.”

The jab made the Sheriff’s upper lip curl, but he didn’t bat an eye as he examined the papers. Charles Holbrook was his senior by twelve years, though the way he wore those years made it look like twenty. His bulky aviators didn’t cover the wrinkles around his eyes and what Lloyd could see of his hair had gone gray. 

Holbrook tilted his hat back. 

“Where were you headed in such a hurry, son?”

“I’ve got a sick calf and the vet’s due any minute.” 

The Sheriff looked to the passenger seat where the file of tax papers lay.

“What’s in the folder?”

“If you’ve got a warrant you can look, but if not…” 

“Where are you coming back from?”

“Town.”

Holbrook ran his tongue around his teeth. “You sure about that? Just town? Nowhere else?”

It seemed his instinct about being followed had been correct. He wished he hadn’t slipped their tail earlier, because it had given them the chance to set up this speed trap. 

Lloyd shrugged. “I’m just trying to get home and take care of my animals, Sheriff.”

Knowing who he was dealing with helped Lloyd keep his temper in check. Thirty years ago, when he’d been a young deputy, Charles Holbrook had joined Joe’s drug running operation. Harsher sentencing guidelines made his father cautious enough to find an insurance policy and Holbrook fit the bill. He proved himself effective and ambitious, which was why Lloyd hadn’t been surprised to hear they’d had a falling out after he’d left for college. Rumor was, the Sheriff and Joe had spent the past twenty years at war, fighting over control of the intermountain west drug trade.

Holbrook grasped the butt of his gun. Lloyd tensed, then a blur of action drew his attention. The passenger door of the police truck flew open. A young man in a deputy’s uniform burst out with a pump action rifle.

Shit. 

The .22 under his arm wouldn’t be any defense if the deputy was a good shot and given that Holbrook was nobody’s fool, especially in these matters… carrying illegally had been a colossal mistake. The tiniest infarction would be an excuse to throw him in jail. Lloyd’s jaw clenched as he appreciated that in this scenario, Holbrook’s definition of “jail” would mean “the bottom of Redfish Lake.” 

“Watch your back, Lloyd. You know the rules in these parts.” 

Rage bubbled in his chest at the threat. His nostrils flared as he took a sharp breath, struggling against the urge to fight. The Sheriff smirked. 

“It’d be a shame if there were two Hansen funerals this week, Lloyd. Don’t do anything stupid. We need to have a serious chat about-”

Holbrook cut off at the sound of gravel crunching behind them. Lloyd saw another vehicle had pulled up behind his truck and scowled. He couldn’t decide if he should be amused or annoyed that he warranted backup. This was a run of the mill shake down, not… Damn it. His gaze swung to the rearview mirror. The white pickup had boxed him in. With the sheriff on his left, the deputy in front of him, and the newcomer behind, he was trapped. 

It was a straight shot through the windshield with the pump action rifle. Lloyd figured he could shoot Holbrook and take cover behind the engine block, but that left him vulnerable to the occupant of the white pickup. By the time he got off a shot he’d have six rounds in his back.

“Luke! Put that away!” 

Holbrook straightened up and faced the new arrival. 

Lloyd didn’t blink, eyes tracking the deputy’s every move, while he complied with the request. His attention stayed on the rifle until it was out of sight. Only then did his attention return to the Sheriff, who wore a welcoming smile for the approaching woman. She wore a navy baseball cap, plaid button down, and Levi’s tucked into cowboy boots. There was something familiar about her that tickled the edge of his memory. 

“Dr. Ward! Haven’t I told you it’s not wise to interrupt police business?” 

Holbrook’s tone was the same one used to discipline golden retrievers - exasperated, but indulgent. 

“Well, Sheriff, this time it’s you interrupting my business. I’ve got a sick calf to see and you’re blocking the road.” 

She nodded at the police truck, and when she turned her head, he spotted the auburn ponytail. Lloyd’s jaw dropped. 

“April? April Anderson?”

“It’s Ward now,” she said, grinning. “Dad mentioned you had an emergency, but this isn’t the kind of emergency I expected.”

“Nah, no emergency here. Sheriff Holbrook was letting me off with a warning.”

“That’s sweet of you, Sheriff. Do you mind clearing the road?” 

Holbrook’s lips twisted into a sour pucker, but he touched two fingers to the brim of his hat and nodded.

“Yes, ma’am.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

You sat in your car, gripping the steering wheel tight. 

Just being parked on this street felt dangerous. Despite the risk, anger was more powerful than logic in your current frame of mind. You hung onto that fury. If the past few days had taught you anything, it was that living in fear wasn’t sustainable. Rage felt like a suitable alternative - it was certainly more pleasant than terror. 

Thoughts of rage turned your mind to Lloyd. If he knew about your situation, he’d be apocalyptic. He’d protected you in Singapore with no consideration for himself and that recklessness worried you. If he flew off the handle there was a decent chance he’d end up facing a second round of felony charges. The prospect of Lloyd being sent to jail because of your mistakes was untenable. You needed to handle Aiden yourself. 

From the spot you’d parked, on the opposite side of the street to Aiden’s house, you had a perfect view into the living room. He was inside and based on what you’d seen in the last thirty minutes, he was alone. Taking a deep breath, you gathered your courage and imagined you were Lloyd. You thought of the irritable man who’d stormed into the paralegal office and invaded your life. The image filled your mind, thrilling and comforting in equal measure. You remembered the boisterous, almost wild energy that version of Lloyd had carried into a room.

Thinking of his confidence helped ease the tug of caution that insisted you’d be safer turning around and driving back to Virginia. You twisted your neck, warming up the muscles and taking deep, steady breaths. In less than a minute, your shoulders relaxed and your jaw unclenched as the last clouds of doubt rolled away. 

Moving with purpose, you stepped out of the car and stalked across the street toward the two-story brick colonial with an immaculate front lawn. Your heart was hammering, but the fear was buried under a thick fog of anger. You were going to demolish Aiden. 

You rang the bell and waited. The door opened and Aiden looked irritated to see you. The sight of him made your lip curl into a snarl.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why can’t you leave me alone?” 

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

You shoved the photo in his face. 

“This, Aiden. I’m talking about this!”

“Huh?”

“I found it on the hood of my car an hour ago. You took this picture and left it to threaten me.” 

“I didn’t do anything!” 

“Don’t lie.”

Aiden scoffed. “You’re crazy. It’s just a picture.” 

“You’re harassing me. You’ve been texting me, stalking my building, and trying to make me uncomfortable. Well, guess what? I’ve already forwarded the texts to your father and filed a complaint with the police. Even with all that, you don’t seem to be getting the message, so here it is. Stop. Bothering. Me.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Trust me, Aiden. If you make my life hell, I’ll be happy to return the favor - in triplicate.” 

“You’re a drama queen, you know that, right? I’m not the one who came to your house. You should be glad I’m giving you the time of day - it’s not like you’d do the same.”

“I know you sent the texts. You’re taking your problems out on me, and if you keep doing it, you’ll find out that I punch back. Stay away from me. Stay away from my family. This is the last time I’ll say it - next time you find out I mean what I say.” 

He crossed his arms, straightening. “You should watch your mouth, bitch.” 

“And you should watch your back. You’re going to leave me alone. If you don't, I’ll put you in a world of hurt.”

“See if I care.” 

“You should. Because if you don’t, I’ll give you a reason to.” 

“Whatever.” 

You raised your chin.

“I don’t need you to believe me. Because whether or not you think I’m serious, I am. This is me giving you the chance to turn things around. Go very far away from me and stay there. If you don’t, you have no one to blame but yourself for what happens next.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The calf ended up with a prescription for long-term antibiotics, and he persuaded April to have a beer with him. He couldn’t help but stare as they sat on opposite sides of the small kitchen table. She broke the silence first. 

“Nice mustache. It ages you, but somehow it suits you.”

“Thanks. I can’t believe you’re still here. I figured some city boy would sweep you off your feet and take you to Seattle or Boise.” 

“He did, but I took him home instead of the other way around.”

“I guess your taste in men improved after high school,” Lloyd teased. 

“Given my starting point, it couldn’t have gotten much worse.” 

He laughed. “After Tyler, I was a step up.” 

Tyler Claffey had been April’s first boyfriend. He played defensive tackle to Lloyd’s quarterback and they’d been on the same team since fifth grade. Their hatred of each other ran deeper than the traditional offense vs. defense rivalry every football team suffered. Tyler still held the distinction of being the most insecure person Lloyd had ever known. For his part, Tyler hated Lloyd’s sullen disposition, lack of regard for other people’s opinions, and most of all, for being a superior athlete. 

When he was caught cheating on her the week before junior prom, April had asked Lloyd to be her date. He knew the goal was to twist the knife in Tyler’s side and had accepted the invitation. They went to prom together and ended up dating until graduation. 

“Tell me about your husband,” Lloyd said. 

“Michael. We met in college, but didn’t date until after. He’s a lawyer.” 

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” 

“Is he tall, dark, and handsome… with a mustache?”

April snorted. “No, no, yes, and absolutely not. I know you aren’t married, because no woman would tolerate that facial hair. You should grow a beard.” 

“My girlfriend doesn’t mind it.”

Lloyd felt a ripple of concern at how naturally the word ‘girlfriend’ rolled off his tongue, but pushed it aside. He considered April - the first and last woman to hold that title - and shook his head. 

“I can’t believe you stuck around.” 

“I didn’t hate it here, you did.”

“I had to get away. You know why.” 

April nodded. She picked at the label on her drink and lowered her voice.

“How did you feel, when they told you he was dead?”

“Shocked, disbelieving. More of the latter, to be honest. The hospital called and explained but I just… I thought he couldn’t die.”

“Are you okay, being back? Like, here, in this house?” 

Lloyd shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“Have you been in touch with your family?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m it.”

April raised an eyebrow. “Your sisters?”

He looked away. 

“You never searched for them? After all these years? I…” she broke off. “Lloyd? Did something happen to them?” 

“I can’t say for sure. I didn’t look them up because I knew what I’d find.” 

“What do you mean?”

“My mother couldn’t take care of them. Even back then, I knew.” 

“She left the summer before fifth grade, right?”

“Yeah. My father was away, it was just me and the girls. The house was peaceful. That’s what I remember most about those last days.” 

April’s brow creased in confusion, so he explained.

“She didn’t have any of her normal outbursts, episodes, whatever you’d call them. Looking back, she must have started on some kind of antipsychotic meds. A few days before Dad returned I woke up to an empty house.” 

He looked out at the barnyard and saw it as it was thirty years ago. Almost exactly thirty years to the day, he realized with a jolt. 

“Her car was gone. Josephine’s closet was empty and so was Ingrid’s. Only some of my mother’s things had been taken, but when I saw the suitcases were missing, I knew they weren’t coming back.”

“I’m sorry,” April whispered. 

She reached across the table and covered his hand. Lloyd folded his fingers around hers.

“I hate remembering. I can’t go through the barn without thinking of Ingrid and that evil little Shetland who bit everyone. I taught her to saddle him, but I think I put on his bridle every time she wanted to ride.”

“Clever girl.”

Lloyd smiled. “She’d hunt for arrowheads with me. Josie used to go with us because if we didn’t take her, she’d cry and that would set Mom off. She liked to collect flowers and press them in parchment. The first night here, I went into her room and…” 

Emotion choked him. A piece of wax paper had fallen from the pages of one of her story books. It was a bright, cheerful Black-eyed Susan. He’d stood there staring at it, as if it were a rattlesnake. 

Lloyd shuddered. 

“My mother may as well have driven them off a cliff, instead of off the ranch. I never looked them up… not knowing is easier.” 

April squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“When I was in prison, the psychiatrist asked me if I’d ever felt love. The question made me furious. I couldn’t believe he’d think me incapable of such a basic emotion, but then I couldn’t remember a time when I’d felt love - no offense -”

“None taken.”

“I knew my reaction was genuine, but until Monday night when I saw the rocking chair, I couldn’t figure out where it had come from.” 

Their eyes drifted to the pine rocker by the front window.

“That’s where they let me hold Josie for the first time.”

April squeezed his hand. “Is your girlfriend coming for the funeral? I’d love to meet her.”

“No. I didn’t want her to see me like this.”

Lloyd turned his hand, bringing hers to rest on top, and studied the impressive diamond ring on her left finger. 

“Nice rock.”

“It spends most of its time on a chain around my neck. That’s what he gets for marrying a vet.” 

He used his thumb to turn the ring left and right, admiring the way it caught the light.

“I knew we wouldn’t last, but I loved you, April.”

“Not really. We were good friends, Lloyd. But it didn’t run deeper than that on either side and you were turning bitter.” 

She paused, eyeing him curiously as her tongue traced the edge of her upper teeth.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What happened between you and Coach Olsen?”

Lloyd slipped his hand free at the naming of his former football coach. “You don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, I do. It’s been decades and I’m still curious.”

“Olsen took bribes. USC paid him to make sure I didn’t sign with Harvard.”

“But you liked Harvard the most.” 

“He was stringing them along, making it sound like I hadn’t decided so the money kept flowing. Obviously, that’s not kosher with the NCAA.” 

“He put your scholarship at risk. I understand why you cut ties.”

His lips twisted. 

“It was more than that. I got a call from USC in July, which was odd because I’d already committed to Harvard. Their rep let it slip about Olsen. I was livid. Mind meltingly furious, unlike anything I’d felt before.” 

The memory made his stomach pitch. Something visceral had come over him and he’d felt his mind loosen, allowing the monster to emerge. The dam holding back years of rage burst and nothing could stem the tide.

“I’d worried I was like Joe, but until that night I wasn’t sure. Whatever had held me in check snapped. I don’t remember the drive into town, just walking across the field and seeing lights on in the shed. Olsen was in the office, working. The football shed wasn’t air conditioned back then, so the garage door was open.” 

The scene played behind his eyes, undistorted by time. He saw the white cinder block shed and felt the thrill of finding his prey. Later, that feeling had become an addiction, better than cocaine and longer lasting than ecstasy. 

“I snuck under the garage door into the storage area. They’d brought in the baseball equipment and there was a rack of bats beside the door. On my way through, I grabbed one. He turned when I stepped into the office and started to speak. I swung for his head but he ducked, so I only clipped him. He rushed me, and I struck his right knee, got him on the ground, and then…”

He remembered it in flashes. The sound of bones crunching, screams, then agonized cries. 

When he’d snapped out of the trance there were blisters on his palms.

“I thought I’d killed him. That’s why I left for college a month early. When the team went to state a few years later, I read he was still their coach. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather.”

April stared at him. “That was you?! We thought there was a psychopath running around town!”

“There was.”

“I don’t agree with everything you did, but your reaction was understandable.” 

“The only thing I regret is not saying goodbye to you.”

“I figured you wanted a clean break. Once I accepted it was what you needed, I got over it. But I worried about you. I figured we’d stay in touch, you know?” 

He hadn’t wanted anyone too close to him, not after realizing what he was capable of. If he was a monster then the safest place for April was far away from him. Hence, why she remained his first and last girlfriend. 

“Speaking of the past…” April frowned. “Have you spoken to Elliot lately?”

Lloyd’s eyebrows rose. “Elliot? No.” 

The mention of his cousin surprised him. 

Elliot Hansen was the illegitimate son of his father’s sister and some drug dealer from Boise. The drug dealer had vanished upon learning of the pregnancy and two years later, his aunt committed suicide, orphaning her young son. Joe refused to acknowledge him and Elliot became a ward of the state. Like his parents, Elliot got hooked on drugs early and by the end of highschool, he’d been a certified junkie.

“He went to rehab and was working down in Nevada. When your father took a turn for the worse, he came back to help. For the past few months he’s been on Sheriff Holbrook’s list.” 

“Is he on drugs again?” 

“No. I knew Holbrook was shaking you down when I saw the traffic stop because he did the same thing to Elliot.”

“Which earned you a warning to stay out of police business,” Lloyd said. 

“I pay my taxes, I have the right to be nosy.” 

“Damn it, April. I told you Holbrook was dangerous. Why would you put yourself in his line of fire for that lowlife?” 

Her glare was withering. “He kicked meth without anyone’s help and re-built his life from nothing. Don’t call him names.” 

“Fine.” Lloyd held up his hands. “No name calling. Please, continue.”

“I caught the end of their argument. There was something about the ranch and ‘mercury’ but I couldn’t hear anything more.” 

“Did you ask Elliot about it?” 

She shook her head. “No, because I haven’t seen Elliot in two weeks. I’m worried about him, Lloyd. I think something’s happened to him.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Next - Part XIV

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

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[breelandwalker]

So you have recommendations for where to research signs of baneful magic having been performed on you or your home? Or do you have a list of signs to look out for just in case?

This is an excellent question (sorry it took me so long to get to it, this month has been BONKS) and it provides a good opportunity to talk about ambiguity and alarm systems.

Most sources that talk about how to detect signs of baneful magic will usually talk about random illnesses, accidents, bad luck, general misfortune, that sort of thing. And while it's true that these CAN be signs of baneful magic being directed your way, it's hardly a foolproof system, as these are also things that can and do happen without any magical interference. Plus, it creates kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you view any misfortune as a sign of being "cursed," then you tend to start looking for more signs and take note of every little thing that goes wrong, including things that you might normally brush off.

The only real way to know for sure that you've been cursed is to literally watch someone perform a baneful spell directed at you. Everything else is the magical equivalent of hearsay and guesswork. (Yes, even if someone TELLS you they've cursed you, since there's also a neat little trick that involves telling someone to expect the worst and then letting them suffer with the anxiety and pessimism, believing that doom is on the way, while you do next to nothing apart from encouraging the assumption. Bit of Headology for you there.) And even THEN, it's not a sure thing, since spells don't work 100% of the time.

In my experience, the best plan is to be proactive and to look to mundane examples for inspiration on how to structure magical solutions. If you want to know whether someone or something has intruded on your space, what do you do? You set up physical indicators and install some kind of security, right? If you want to know whether deer are getting into your garden, you put up a fence high enough to be a deterrent, you check the beds for prints and nibbled produce, and if you want to go the extra mile, you set up a trail cam. So do the same with your magical protections and your list of personal omens.

Add a layer to your home/personal protections that reflects, diverts, or nullifies spells sent your way that are unwanted, disruptive, or harmful. This might take the form of a defensive mirror jar or a ward that burns away or entangles those undesirable spells. It can be something you add to existing magical protections or a separate spell dedicated to the purpose, whatever works best for your needs.

In addition to this, add an entry to your list of personal omens that is specifically for Disruptive Incoming Magic. Make the sign something you're not likely to see on the regular so that you can immediately recognize it when and if it turns up. In all likelihood, you'll never need it because the possibility of actually being cursed is SO much lower than social media would have you think, but it's nice to have the failsafe.

(I fully recommend creating a list of personal omens to any witch who wants to look for signs btw. Make a list with easy-to-spot examples and clear meanings that takes natural occurrences into account. It's a great way to simplify things and not drive yourself to distraction wondering whether that spider on your floor is a Sign of Something or...just a random spider.)

So now you've got your prevention in place and you have an indicator to let you know if something does show up. It's still not foolproof, but it certainly helps.

In the meantime, just remember that witches experience accidents and illness and runs of bad luck with the same relative frequency as anyone else. The fact that something bad / a series of bad things has happened is not necessarily an indicator of the presence of baneful magic. Sometimes Shit Just Happens.

But when in doubt, you can always do a quick cleansing of your space and reinforce your protections to clear away anything unwanted that might be in the space. If nothing else, it's due diligence and it will probably make you feel better.

Hope this helps!

[tokinanpa]

Long Rant Pt. 2: This Time It's Personal

on my post about tech literacy and Linux:

I'm not going to directly reblog this post or mention who made it, seeing as they clearly aren't interested in talking about this further, but I wanted to put my thoughts on it somewhere because there's a few things about this take that I find fascinating.

first, I feel the need to clarify: my intention here wasn't to shame people who find Linux confusing, nor was it to say it's their fault that they bounced off of it. good UI is designed with an audience in mind, and the audience of something like a Linux distro can be tough to pinpoint. my point was that the dominance of Windows and its design have skewed people's general ideas of what simple UX means, and that Linux being different doesn't mean it's more complicated.

when the topic of UX comes up, people often say "simple" when what they really mean is "familiar". an end user will tolerate quite a lot of inconvenience if they're accustomed to the process (and very little if they aren't). this is why the lack of a GUI package manager is such a sticking point for a lot of people: many Linux distros don't ship with one pre-installed due to a (somewhat valid imo) belief that it's not an essential feature, and a lot of new users are unfamiliar with the alternative.

so, with that in mind: the OP is comparing the UX of installing Wine in Debian with that of using an installation wizard in Windows. let's walk through the steps needed to use both of these methods. (we'll assume that the user is already familiar with how both of these installation methods work; after all, it would be unfair to consider Windows's method better just because more people were taught how to use it!)

let's start with Debian:

determine which packages to install (either by using apt's search command or by looking it up)

open the command line

type/paste in the command

say "yes" to any confirmation prompts

installation complete!

Debian's apt isn't the best package manager there is, but it's good enough, and this is a pretty standard process.

as for Windows:

determine what website the installation wizard is hosted on

download the installation wizard

run the installation wizard with admin privileges

skip past the introduction/welcome screen

choose the directory where the program will go (why is this a choice?)

set a bunch of extra configure options before the build starts

decide whether to add the program to the Start Menu (why is this a choice???)

installation complete! ... as long as you don't forget to check or uncheck the "run this program immediately" box on the last page, or you'll have that to deal with that now

oh and you should probably also get rid of that installer that's collecting dust in your downloads folder now

I think it's pretty clear why this system is bad, but I'll elaborate anyways: instead of taking advantage of the one thing that computers are good at and automating the process, installation wizards force YOU to do everything. the user has to find and download the installer themselves, they have to devote their attention to every banal setting that the installer offers, and they have to clean up the mess afterwards.

I honestly wouldn't even disagree with the claim that some aspects of Linux are unsuited for casual tech consumers. despite having now written at least a good thousand words on the subject, I don't actually care all that much about whether people decide to adopt Linux. but the idea that apt is a downgrade from this??? it baffles me. this isn't even the first time I've heard it, either.

I haven't even mentioned the issues outside of the UI:

development - programmers now have to maintain an installer program separate from the stuff that actually matters

inconsistency - what an installer looks like, where you find it, what it does, how you handle the installation after? none of it is standardized

security - you're literally running unvetted code you got off the internet and it just asked you for full access to your computer what the fuck

wow I wrote a lot more than I thought I would. thanks for reading this whole thing if you made it here, I guess? I don't expect many people to do that

[caffeinatedowlbear]

Unlikely Occupations for Handsome Jack

I played this on the soon-no-longer-twitter, and figured I like these too much to lose them when that site inevitably becomes an ex-parrot. This post will collect all the previous AUs I've made, and you can request new ones in the comments.

The rules are simple: name a job/occupation that would be very unlikely for Handsome Jack, and I'll try to come up with an IC(ish), (mostly) not crack explanation of how he ended up that way. All ideas generated from this exercise are free for the taking, as long as: 1) the prompt giver doesn't mind; 2) you let me know what you make of it.

Note: while any minimum wage job fits the 'unlikely' criteria, ideally I'm looking for suggestions of jobs/occupations that someone (but normally, not Jack) would conceivably WANT to do, and not just to survive. It's sad but true that people rarely end up in minimum wage jobs for interesting reasons. So please go easy on burger flipping, shelf restocking, call centers and the like.

Prompts filled so far: Janitor, DJ, Florist, Marine Biologist, Preschool Teacher, Pediatric Nurse (new!).

Outstanding prompts: cab driver; mortician; therapist/social worker (got ideas for this one); supermarket cashier (got half a plan)

Filled prompts below, starting with a fan favorite.

Janitor

Now, I know that ‘it’s just a front’ may sound like a cop-out because it can apply to any ‘Jack in a minimum-wage job’ scenario. So I tried to make it more interesting.

Setting: can be modern-day, can be sci-fi, but needs to be an AU in which Jack isn’t instantly recognizable by all and sundry. He is a rich and successful asshole, though. But there’s a certain shiny object he really, REALLY wants to get his hands on. Could be physical thing, could be information. Either way, something that money (of which he has plenty) can’t buy, because it’s held by another, even richer asshole.

Multiple attempts to infiltrate the guy’s home, where the shiny is kept, have failed. The mark is famously a recluse, his security systems are deadly, and all his staff are life-long friends and acquaintances. There’s only one tiny security hole: cleaning and maintenance. Now, most of it is automated, but once every few months, there’s a need for human labor. So every few months, a trusted and vetted housekeeping services agency dispatches some of its most trusted and vetted workers. And isn’t it lucky that Jack has a contact at said agency?

It goes off without a hitch at first. Agency Contact makes sure Jack’s fake identity passes all the background checks, and adds him to the next crew dispatched to Rich Asshole’s house. But then, Agency Contact is busted for an unrelated piece of shady business. Their latest acts in the company come under scrutiny. Jack’s employment status holds, but not his assignment. He is supposed to have at least six months of spotless (...sorry :p) record with the agency before he can get assigned to high-priority jobs like this.

So now Jack has two options. Say "fuck this shit, I'm out" and look for a different solution that might not even exist... or hold out for the sure-fire way in, even if it means spending six months pushing around a mop while toeing the company line. What’s it gonna be, Jack??

DJ

Going off the beaten track for this one, because I didn't want to do the obvious option of 'rich guy's hobby/vanity side gig'.

My take is, we're back on Tantalus and in Jack's (John's?) youth. It's a place full of poverty and violence, but also a colorful night life. Of course, many night clubs are fronts for drug and arms (and worse) trade. Getting in with the clubs is a solid strategy for a young guy with his head on his shoulders.

Jack tries to do different jobs that take him all over, to see the backstage stuff as much as possible. (He even has a brief stint as an unlikely bouncer: no-one expected the scrawny 20yo to throw some real good punches.)

His first DJ experience happens when he's a stage hand / gofer at a club, and the actual DJ goes off to screw someone, telling Jack to take over for half an hour. The music is cued up, just look like you're having fun, he's told. This is the first taste he gets of the kind of power he didn't think he wanted. Because the power that comes with money and access and control is one thing (and make no mistake, he wants that). But the power to stand in front of a room full of people and command their mood? To be cheered? To get them to chant your name, even? That hits something really, really deep inside young Jack. He knows that day that however he gets to the top, he won't just be the man behind the curtain. He will be the one whose name the crowd is chanting.

From there on, Jack's goal is clear. Not only is he going to get power and money and his slice of all the shady business, but he's also going to be a goddamn ✨celebrity✨ while at it. For bonus points, add a scar earned in a gang war ten years later and make Handsome Jack his crime name *and* stage name.

Florist

Setting: semi-historical or steampunk flavored Victorian. There is a war on, but it's pretty far away or a relatively cold one. So no immediate danger on the home front, but spycraft is in high demand. Jack is an era-appropriate Bond type who gets saddled with an assignment to...

"Make bouquets? Is this a joke?"

No, it's not. The flower shop Jack would be operating out of is a hub receiving intel from multiple covert informants. It will be Jack's job to pick out what's important, and pass it to the right people, encoded via flower bouquets. Sending messages via different flowers are already a thing in this society, as they were in our world's Victorian era, but obviously, the spy organization obviously has its own code book, so no harm done if a bouquet falls into the wrong hands.

"Except I'd have to bloody make it again, so, actually, plenty of harm done."

In order to maintain the cover, the flower shop also has to do legitimate business, so Jack gets to make plenty of "civilian" bouquets as well, and be all polite and gentlemanly with the customers.

There's only one silver lining to this dismal assignment. The assistant assigned to help Jack with sorting and aggregating the intel is pretty darn cute.

Marine Biologist

(Short write-up, but this is one of my personal faves!)

Canon-adjacent BL settings, but instead of Pandora, Jack is drawn to Aquator in his vault-hunting pursuits, searching for a vault rumored to be at the bottom of the ocean. Helios is a city-sized submarine!

For bonus points, add a Rhack plot featuring mercreature!Rhys, who has knowledge of the vault, but is reluctant to reveal its location, and whose trust Jack is desperately trying to win.

In a Preschool

Modern-day, Passable Dad AU. It's career day at Angel's school. Jack didn't want to come, what with being a currently unemployed head of a recently-failed startup. But he can't say no to Angel, so... sigh, here we go.

Jack is the last one to talk, his hope being that maybe they’ll run out of time and he won’t have to. Alas, his slot comes up. A few minutes in, the teacher gets an urgent phone call and steps out (don’t come after me about child safety protocols in this AU, okay :p).

Then the period is technically over, and the teacher isn’t back (guess the phone call was urgent enough to make them run out without telling people; they’re so fired). Other parents have left at some point during the period, because they have jobs / better things to do. Jack tries to send Angel to go find an adult, but she declares they’re not allowed to leave the classroom on their own (because she’s an ass). But, she continues, they can’t be left on their own, either (like I said, an ass).

So, Jack is stuck with a bunch of preschoolers for an hour. Once he runs out of failed startup stories, he just starts rubber-ducking new business ideas off of them. It’s surprisingly effective: kids are really good at poking holes in what seem like reasonable plans to adults.

And this is how, once a teacher finally comes to see what’s going on, Mr. Lawrence is offered a job as a substitute teacher at his daughter’s preschool. He will get fired once he deals with a bully by holding the offender up by the ankle until a believable apology is delivered.

Pediatric Nurse

(the prompt giver was very specific that it should be nurse, not doctor)

Setting: Tantalus, Jack is a single dad and dirt-poor. Angel is hospitalized with something that requires long-term inpatient care, and Jack literally doesn't have the money to pay for her treatment and rent, so he loses the apartment and starts low-key living at the hospital.

He's getting away with it pretty well. Angel shares a room with a few more kids, whose parents catch on pretty quickly, but don't mind that an extra parent is hanging around, because the hospital is permanently understaffed, and the kids like having company. (He gets more than an occasional meal from other kids' parents, too.)

When Jack's not doing gig work on his laptop, he's reading up everything about Angel's condition as well as all-purpose medical care so he can take care of her when she's finally allowed to leave the hospital. He's a fast learner, and soon ends up helping out the permanently overworked nurses with basic stuff like changing dressings, giving an extra hand with whatever, and even fixing up some medical equipment when something outdated inevitably breaks. It's not long before the kids in Angel's room (and the adjacent rooms) start calling him Nurse Jack.

The only one who's not thrilled about Jack's permanent presence on the ward is a young (and very attractive) doctor who's being a real stick in the mud about 'non-medical personnel outside of visiting hours'. The fact that, thanks to Jack's liberal use of nicknames, the kids start calling him Dr. Cupcake doesn't win Jack much love, either. Things between them getting more tense by the day, and Jack is this close to getting banned from the hospital outside of strict visiting hours.

That is, until one day, some Tantalus bandits barge in, demand that the whole floor is cleared so that their boss can get medical attention, and even take some medical personnel (including Dr. Cupcake) hostage to make their point. Little did they know that one of their hostages is: a) not a licensed medical professional, but b) real handy with a gun.

[familyofpaladins]

The Pizza Game (Chp 3)

Chapter 3: Better to Have Loved and Lost or To Have Never Loved at All?

Chapter 1 | <Chapter 2 | X | Chapter 4>

Ao3 link

Summary: Little Casey Jr's birthday is coming up and Donnie needs to know what he wants. And an important decision is made. Words: 2918

Donatello walked into the training room, where his blue wearing brother and adoptive nephew were training.

Little Casey Jones was only 4, about to be 5, and had been with them for two years now. His mother (who refused to go by Cassandra, instead going by Big Casey) insisted he begin his “Warrior Training”. Said training mostly consisted of learning how to run and dodge and hide, and some basic self-dense moves. He could learn more complicated self defense once he was a little older.

Donnie was a little surprised to find both of his other brothers in the room as well. They must have gotten back from their supply run early. He could ask them how it went later. The fact that he didn’t get a notification from the security system was a little puzzling. He added Check Security Alert System to his list of tasks. For the moment he had other priorities.

“Casey Jones,” Donnie addressed the young boy.

“Hi Unca Dontello!” Casey chirped from where he was stretching to reach his toes.

“What brings you here, Uncle Dontello?” Leo smirked off to the side at the mispronounced name. Donnie maturely ignored him.

“Casey Jones, your birthday is in two weeks, and I wanted to know if you had any preferences for a present.”

Raph and Mikey both went wide eyed, Mikey whispering “oh CRUD, is that next week already?”

“A present? I get a present for my birfday?” Little Casey asked, brow furrowed as he attempted a sit-up with out his feet coming off the floor. Donnie saw Leo gently place his own foot over Casey’s to help keep him steady.

“Of course you do! Presents have been traditionally given for birthdays, as well as other occasions and holidays for a long time.”

They hadn’t been able to celebrate his birthday the previous year due to dealing with an attack on one of their supply bases a couple of weeks before hand, and then forgot about the day until it had already passed. But Casey was little and had no idea that anything was amiss about it. Donnie was determined that the same thing would not happen again this year.

“WOAH,” Casey wonder filling his eyes.

“Well bud, what would you like for your birthday?” Leo asked again, smiling at the young boy.

“Hmmm,” Casey hummed, hand on his chin in a way that Donnie recognized as something Leo and Raph did often. “I dunno, what do others want for birthdays?” Casey asked after a moment of contemplation, looking to his uncles, stretches forgotten.

“Pretty much anything!” Mikey said excitedly.

“Traditional gifts most often given to young children are: Toys such as action figures or dolls-“ Donnie began to list.

“I got a lot of plushies for my birthdays!” Raph added.

“-or stuffed animals.” Donnie amended. “As well as games, movies, recreational modes of transportation like bicycles or skateboards.” Casey nodded along, although Donnie knew he likely had no idea what he was talking about. There weren’t much of those things in the apocalypse. “Tool sets, power tools, and scientific equipment are also possible gifts,” Donnie finished.

“Pretty sure you were the only kid asking for the stuff Donald,” Mikey huffed a laugh.

“Just because I’m the only one smart enough to ask for them does not make them bad gifts” he defended.  

“It can also be other things like a trip to somewhere or just something special you want to do.” Leo added. Donnie could remember when they had been little and Leo had asked to go topside as a birthday present. Papa had vetoed that idea, but the brothers had decided they would give him it as a present anyway, and snuck out. They got lost of course, but it was also when they met April, so Donnie considered that a pretty good present to all of them.

“A trip? Like to Jersey?” Casey asked, head tilted in thought. Donnie and his brothers had equally disgusted faces.

“No. Well, technically yes, that could qualify. But you don’t want to go to Jersey, Trust Me.” Raph said, and the other three turtles nodded in agreement. They did occasionally have to make supply runs there, which was likely where Casey had heard about it, but as true New Yorkers, Jersey was tainted land.

“More like if you wanted to go Visit the Hidden city! Or uh..” Leo trailed off. Donnie understood his struggle. There weren’t a lot of places left to go to that would be fun to visit. Mikey bailed the slider out.

“Your present could also be something like a special treat! I used to ask for my Dad’s Special Ramen! It can be something that you don’t get to eat very often, or to eat a bunch of it, like a pizza or ice cream party!”

“Aww Mikey! You mentioned pizza!” Donnie groaned along with his brothers.

“Oh jeez! I wasn’t even thinking about it!”

“What’s pizza?”

Four heads snapped to the child sitting across from them. “What?”

“What’s pizza? Issit a bad thing?” At the wide eyed stares, Casey looked down at his hands, fiddling with the edge of his shirt and finished with a stutter “I- I mean, you guys say it sometimes, but but you get uh um mad? When you do? So issit a bad thing?”

Donnie shouldn’t be surprised. They hadn’t been able to eat any pizza in something like seven years, while also (trying and failing to) never speaking of it. It made perfect sense that Casey wouldn’t know what it was. It still short circuited something in Donnie’s head.

He was trying to figure out how to explain the concept of cheese to the boy when he realized something.

“No no Casey, its not a bad thing,” Leo knelt in front of the boy. “it’s uh-“

Donnie smacked his hand into Leo’s face.

“FAMILY MEETING RIGHT NOW.” Donnie declared, grabbing Leo’s mask tails with the hand he had just smacked him with, and robotic arms extended from his shell and began pushing the other two out the door.

“W-what? Don?” Leo stuttered as Donnie pulled him along. “Uuuhh, be right back little man! Finish you’re stretches, then do Brown Wall, Grey Wall two times, and then uuh meditate on what you want for your present!” Leo yelled back at him before disappearing out the door.

“Yes Sensei!” Casey saluted as the door shut.

“Okay Don. What’s this all about?” Raph asked once they were in the hall.

“Is it better to have Loved and Lost or to have Never Loved At All?” Donnie asked.

“What.” Leo deadpanned.

“Explain what you mean Don,” Mikey said.

“Casey has never had pizza. Who knows when or if he will get the chance to try it.” Donnie paced as he began to rant. “WE have had pizza, and the loss is so great we don’t even talk about it anymore! So should we tell him about the most wonderful substance in the world and have him be sad he’s never had it, or do we not tell him and let him live in blissful ignorance of what he’s missing out on, but then will also never know about the 6th greatest thing to ever exist?” Donnie finished.

“Oh.” Raph breathed.

“Oooooh.” Mikey said in dawning horror, grabbing his own face.

“Wait, pizza is only the 6th greatest?” Leo asked.

“Really Leo, THAT’S what you’re focused on?” Raph huffed.

“Yes, 6th, beat out by such things as: Newton’s Laws of Physics, Galileo’s discoveries, and My Own Mystic Tech, to name a few” Donnie listed. Also on that list was Donnie’s family. But his Emotionally Unavailable Self certainly wasn’t going to admit that to their faces.

“Uh huh, sure” Leo said.

“You guys done?” Mikey didn’t wait for an answer, “So what are we going to tell Casey?”

“It feels weird not to tell him. I wish we could let him eat some. Hey!” Raph gasped “What if we could try to make a pizza for him as a present!”

“I like the idea Raph, but we don’t have any of the ingredients or even any good substitutes. And that still leaves us with the problem of Casey then mourning the loss of pizza as well.” Mikey patted the biggest brother’s arm as his shoulders slumped.

There was just no optimal solution. Well… the Optimal course of events would be to have never ended up in an apocalypse, to live where pizza was still around and the entire concept of having to Explain What Pizza is, would be ridiculous.

Donnie and his brothers stood in the hall and contemplated what to do. Don’t tell him? Tell him and try to explain the blissfulness of pizza? (Could he even remember it well enough to describe the taste?)  

“Okay okay, How about this?” Donnie turned to Leo whose face was tight in thought as he spoke. “Once we defeat those overcooked beetroots, and we, ya know, fix this whole situation,” he twirled a hand through the air. “Get Life back into the world, and get all the ingredients we need, we’ll throw Casey the Biggest Pizza Party ever, huh?”

“Not bad,” Donnie hummed while Raph and Mikey’s faces brightened at the idea. “However that will mean that we can’t talk about pizza anymore.”

“Well, I mean we’ve already been doing that with The Pizza Game” Leo smirked.

“Scoff. And how WELL have we accomplished that task? Have any of us gone more than 6 months without thinking of pizza?” three sets of eyes refused to look at Donnie. “Uh huh, that’s what I thought. To further prove my point, Casey just told us that he’s heard the word pizza multiple times. If we want to truly keep him ignorant of its existence, we can’t keep talking about it or he will just ask someone else.”

Donnie looked at his brothers and saw their serious and determined faces.

“We can do it,” Raph stated, straightening to his full height with conviction, “We can keep the pizza mentions to the minimum and not talk about it in front of little Casey. I believe in us!”

Raph stuck his hand in the middle of their little huddle. Donnie and his other two brothers added their hands.

“Mad dogz!” Raph cheered.

“MAD DOGZ!” They echoed back.

That left just one more problem.

“Great plan Fam,” Donnie said, “but we still don’t know what we’re going to say to answer Casey’s question of “what is pizza?””

“Ah crap.” Leo sighed.

“Language”. Raph rumbled reflexively.

“Hermano, I am 27-“

“28” Donnie corrected.

“-28 (whatever, time is fake), years old” Leo continued, “I think I’m allowed to say the word Crap.” Leo tried to throw an arm around his Big Brother’s shoulders, but the height difference made it look more like Leo was draping himself against Raph’s side. Donnie tried not to snicker at the sight.  

“Not in front of the kid though!” Raph whisper shouted and gestured at the door to the training room where Casey was likely done with his stretches. The movement knocked Leo from his leaning position.

“Relaaaax, he can’t hear us!” Leo drawled as he kept himself from falling over.

“Speaking of Casey” said Donnie loudly. His dumdum brothers still can’t focus on a subject for very long. Internal sigh. He continued, “We are getting off track. WHAT are we going to tell Casey?”

“I don’t know, can’t we just tell him that it’s something that’s not around anymore, and to not worry about it? It’s not even a lie” Mikey suggested.

“You think he’d accept that as an answer?” Raph asked.

“Raph he’s barely 5. He’ll believe anything we tell him.”  Leo said. Donie had to admit, young children were easy to deceive, especially when they were his primary source of education.

“We’ll have to let Big Casey and April know the plan.” Donnie said while he looked at the base schedule on his wrist gauntlet to see where they were at and/or would be at the base soon. 

“Do you think Big Casey will be okay with us making this decision?” Mikey asked.

“Eh if she disapproves, she can always go ahead and tell him. But I doubt she will, since she comes to us for advice half the time anyway.” Leo shrugged.

You know it’s the end of the world when you go to bachelor turtles for parenting advice, Donnie thought to himself.

“I have patrol with her for the next week, so I can double check it with her then,” Raph supplied.

“Great! Let’s get back in there before he starts trying to climb the walls.”

They walked back into the training room, where Casey quickly got back into a meditating pose from where he had obviously been looking at the various practice weapons and training gear (in view but out of reach of the 5 year old). They all nicely pretended not to notice.

“Okay Casey Jones, we’re back”

Little Casey excitedly opened his eyes and bounced to his feet.

“I know what I want for a present, Sensei!”

“Oh yeah? Decided already?” Leo asked, ruffling his hair.

“Mmhm!!” Casey nodded his head so quickly Donnie was worried he’d get whiplash. “I wanna stick like Mom’s!” Little Casey pointed to where Big Casey’s spare Hockey stick was hanging on the wall.

Not a bad choice. Donnie could work with this.

“A hockey stick, not bad, young Casey Jones. Any special requests for amenities? Hidden sword? Lasers? Blow Dart Gun? Retractable Chainsaw?”

“Don,” Leo said through gritted teeth, smile plastered on his face for Casey’s sake. “You will not give a five year old a chainsaw.”

“I would Never!” Donnie lied. Leo’s eye twitched.

Casey giggled at his uncles.

“Okay!” Leo said with false cheer. “Me and Casey still have some exercises to go through, so visiting time is over. You all can see him later!” He said as he began to push his brothers out of the room.

“What?! Us too?” Raph and Mikey complained. Donnie knew either of his brothers could have held their ground, yet they let themselves be pushed out. Dum dums. Donnie allowed himself to be pushed out because he had the information he needed and a list of duties to get to.

“Yes you too! I know you guys still need to finish the inventory reports on the supply run you just got back from” Ah so that was why they let themselves be pushed out. Although, not without complaint.

“Booo” Mikey complained and stuck his tongue out at Leo. Casey broke into a fit of giggles.

“Okay see you guys later!” Leo chirped before he leaned in and poked at Donnie’s chest, “No chainsaws or lasers!”

“Bye Unca Raphyell! Bye Unca Mikyjello! Bye Unca Dontello!” Casey called from behind Leo.

“See ya later, Casey!” Mikey called back.

“Goodbye Young Casey Jones” Donnie responded while already beginning plans for the gift.

“Bye Little Man! We’ll visit you later when you’re done training!” Raph waved.

“Bye!” Leo sang as he shut the door on them.

“He just wants ta hog Casey all to himself!” Raph muttered as they began to walk down the hall.

“Hey Don, you gonna get him the hockey stick?”

“Affirmative.” He was already creating blue prints. Can’t have the stick be too tall or heavy for him to handle, but should be big enough for him to use for a couple years before getting a new one to match his new height.

“You’re not actually gonna give him a chainsaw attachment, are you?” Raph squinted at him.

“Of course not.” Donnie said. “That will be the gift for his 8th birthday.”

“Donnie!”

“Man, I don’t know what to get him!” Mikey complained, floating up to drape himself over Raph’s shell.

“I already got him a gift,” Raph said proudly. Donnie shouldn’t have been surprised. Raph being the Big Brother and softy that he was made him prepare for birthdays and other such things.

“Whatchya get him?” Mikey asked, leaning over his brother’s head to look at him upside down.

“That’s a surprise” Raph smirked.

“Aww come on Raphie! I need ideas!”

“I want to surprise him and, no offense, but both of you can’t keep a secret and are terrible liars.”

“I take much offense to that!” Mikey gasped.

“OFFENDED GASP… But it is true.” Donnie admitted.

“HEY. Maybe I can find him some new bedtime stories.”

“Why bedtime stories?”

“Because have you HEARD the stories Big Casey tells him?! Just last week she was telling him about how the krang came through the portal! As a BED TIME STORY! Who does that?!”

“That… does not surprise me.”

“Okay Raph you know what we’re getting him, now tell us what you’re present is!” Mikey asked once again leaning into his face.

“Not tellin’. You’ll just have to wait two weeks to find out what Raph got him.” Raph said with a smug grin.

.

.

One week later Donatello was forced by Raphael to make two promises: 1) to give Casey his gift for him and 2) To make sure that Casey got the Pizza Party after the war was over.

It was the last thing Donatello heard from his big brother before the Krang dropped a building on Raphael and Cassandra Jones.

A week later Donatello hugged a sobbing Casey Jones as he fulfilled the first promise.

Sitting next to a hockey mask was a patchwork stuffed animal shaped like a turtle. It was each color of the rainbow, but was mostly red.

<Beginning | <Prev |x| Next>

This is where the angst begins. Hold onto your seats. It does have a happy (bittersweet?) ending.

(if it makes you feel any better, in another timeline April Drops a building on the Sister Krang as poetic justice)

[pbandjesse]

I just got home from the painted screen class I was taking! It was so fun. I am very excited that I got to do a new skill and they said I did a very nice job.

I had a lot of stress in my body today. I was still really really worried about my ticket and my name. And I knew it would be fine and everything would be okay but it was hard having to wait and having to be okay with letting someone else be in charge of it. There wasn't anything I could do, but it didn't stop me from feeling like I was going to be sick all day.

I woke up this morning and my body ached. I felt slightly less unwell but still not amazing. James was there and was being very sweet. They would give me lots of encouragement and sent me to work with a hug.

I got to camp and felt. Stress. But I was trying to not focus on that. It was hard. I would have my bagel and check my emails and start working on research for the program areas and what we might need to buy or have the volunteers next week do.

When Heather came in I shared with her why I was stressed and Sarah told me that a few years ago an international counselor accidently had "Sammy" instead of Samuel on his ticket and they were able to fix it at the airport and it would probably be okay. But we all agreed that it was better to get it fixed ASAP. James told me that if Paul didn't take care of it by end of day that James would take over and figure it out. They were trying very hard to make me feel secure but man was I not making it easy. Just losing my mind a little bit and letting it hurt my stomach really bad.

But I tried hard to focus on other stuff. I would go and drive the gator to deliver cleaning supplies to all the cabins. And I would enjoy just being outside. It was surprisingly cold but I had worn enough layers to be comfy.

I would drive up to the Alaskans and offered to help Bonnie, the cleaning lady, sweep. And we talked about how messy the group had been. Joe had to fill his entire truck with trash bags! Crazy.

Jeff, the cleaning guy, came in and we had a really nice conversation. He is an amputee and around my dad's age and I was telling him some of the issues with my dad's prosthetic and he said it's crazy that it's falling off. He said to send his good thoughts to my dad and he really hopes it gets better. Which was very kind. He also said he would fight the doctor if his leg fell off all the time. Which is understandable.

I went back to the office next. And started working on reaching out to vendors for the Monkton music Festival. Which ended up taking an hour of research for finding the emails for the vendors because people just keep telling Heather yes on the phone and not filling anything out. And I keep saying we need one central thing. So I worked on that and creating trackable forms and not paper nonsense.

I was frustrated though. Because after I finished my one list of vendors that said yes, Heather asked me to go through a list of other vendors to invite and so many on the list were MLM (multi level marketing) schemes. Paparazzi jewelry, lulu roe leggings, party oysters, luxe, so many more. And we are not inviting those!! It just made me so frustrated.

I went over it with Heather though and we got things settled best we could. I hope next year we have a better system from the start so it's not so frustrated and convoluted.

I would have my lunch late. And as the wedding party for this weekends rental started to show up Elizabeth asked me to go put the new curtains up in the salt mines. Can do. I was slightly worried about scaring a guest but thankfully no one was down there yet.

I got the curtains set. And a guest would show up but they were just there to deliver food stuff to the kitchen. And I only startled them a little.

I went back to the office and made sure I had everything and wasn't forgetting anything. I said good bye to everyone and they all wished me and James safe travels!

It was raining just a little. But people can't drive in the rain and so it added so much time to the drive but whatever.

When I got home I spent some time putting things away. And waiting for James to come home. And when they got back we sat together at the kitchen island. And got word that my name was being updated and everything was okay now. Thank God.

We ate a little dinner. And worked on a knock off Lego pompompurian thing I got. Which was harder then anticipated. But was still fun.

I left at 545 to head to creative alliance for the class. And it was so fun.

There were 11 people in the class. And the teacher was so sweet. He told us all the history of painted screens and we went through the steps. He had a ton of samples and things people could trace and I wanted to make my own. So I did what I always do. And I painted Sweetp.

We had some great talks in the class. And the teacher's granddaughter was there and she was a sweet heart. They would both say my piece was beautiful and made me feel really good about my piece. And I was just having so much fun. I want to do this more! I will have to create a space in the studio for that.

At the end they would put our pieces in little folders and write a nice note to us about our pieces. And they took my picture with my painting. They didn't ask anyone else that! I must have done particularly good!

I left there after sharing about the Old Time Music Festival tomorrow. And went home.

When I got here our neighbor on the other side was just coming home and I got to share my art with him and he was like. Wow! That is so cool and it made me feel very good.

And when James got home (they were at the first night of the old time music festival) they were one beer tipsy and very silly and lovely. And after I told them all about the class we would go upstairs to go over some packing stuff. I will probably redo and reorganize the packing on Sunday but I feel pretty good about it for now.

I am very much ready for bed now. I'm going to take a little shower and go to sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day but I am really looking forward to my first market of the year. I hope it goes well.

I hope you all have a great night. Sleep well. Take care of eachother. And wish me luck! Good night everyone!

[anulithots]

trick or treat!!

Hello hello, thank you for waiting for me to open the door for... *checks watch* a full day, for that, you get a treat <3

I realized that writing a first draft can literally be just a dialogue exchange...

Anywho, here's Kamari and faer best friend Ankh (I need a better name... it just means 'eye') - who was one of the only condemned fallen fairy to beat the High Protector (Kamari) during a Battle of the Fates (it doesn't make much sense, does it?)

(Kamari is very nice and doesn't like to oppose others if fae doesn't have to, for it wastes time when fae needs to focus on securing a future for faerself. Whereas Ankh wants revenge on the system that wronged faer.)

-----

"They'll never change their minds Ankh. The only way to save them is to convince the elders that they've won."

"You're not seriously going to let them-"

"They've rid of the fallen fairies, all of them... I can mess up the fights,, then they've finished the fallen fairies, once and for all."

"But the condemned will try to kill you... that risk is too great."

"... Awww. You wish for my well-being. That means a lot to me <3"

Ankh rolled faer eyes. "Someone please explain how the freaking High Protector can be this positive?"

----

A - "We can use the tree-less fairy"

K- "Anuli?"

A- "Yes. That thing."

K- "Anuli's not a thing, Ankh."

A - "It doesn't have a tree, Kamari. We're tree fairies... that one isn't even a dryad."

K - "... I don't see why that makes faer a 'thing'"

A - "This discussion is unnecessary but I'm making an exception because you're socially isolated and have no friends."

K - "Aren't you my friend?"

A - "...By the stars Kamari..... you need nicer friends."

K - "But you are nice <3"

A - " I feel wronged with that word and myself in the same breath."

K - "Nice?"

A - "Yes, that vile, vile word."

*Kamari laughs*

--------

A - "Kamari, please, hear me out. This could free you, free all of us, no one would have to suffer again."

K - "Anuli is not a thing. Fae is not a fallen fairy... and I won't hear any other opinions."

A - "But if you had lived in the forest, you would've-"

K - "I don't want to hear it."

Ankh growled. "Do you even know what happens to fairies when their tree dies? Do you know what that thing is?"

"No, but I'll leave you until you calm down then...."

"No, you need to hear this. When a dryad's tree dies, they head to pixies as a last resort. They don't- they aren't right in the head, Kamari. They are the reason fallen fairies exist."

"Didn't we agree that fallen fairies are innocent?"

"The ones that are left? Yes."

".... Ankh.... you're being a hypocrite."

"Oh please! I'm trying to help you! This could be our chance! If they think the last root of all evil is ruined, the last original fallen fairy-"

"Anuli is not a fallen fairy."

"And what proof do you have of that, oh great High Protector?"

"Because... Anuli? Fae- fae's my youngling."

".... You can't be serious."

"Anuli's kind and smart and wonderou-"

"Of Couse you are. Kamari, High Protector and Guardian of Fallen Fairies, has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Really emphasizes the violence associated with it."

"What are you- Ankh... listen to yourself, please? I don't want to argue anymore, okay?"

"And you think I do?! Despite... all this, I don't want you to get killed. Which you seem to have your mind set on doing... having that thing attached to your name is irredeemable!"

-------

"You off- You're battling Anuli with me, if fae's condemned?"

"Yes."

"....and the elders let you do that?"

"Quite readily actually. They think having a spectacle of the ambassadors' might l be beneficial.... it may also be a better show."

Kamari felt sick. ---

Yee, so they're enemies to friends to enemies and Anuli gets to go on a whole saga about the *friendship of magic turned tragic* and so I had a lot of fun with these. Bonus - it also explains a lot of Kamari's actions when fae tries to save Anuli, because the whole time Kamari is trying to get Anuli to prove to the world that fae has a tree and that fae isn't a fallen fairy, so now Kamari has a specific motivation for that... because fae wants to prove Ankh wrong.

Also wrote some fluff about Kamari trying to save Anuli from the cold (because I doubt a fiddle leaf fig would survive it) and it's great because Kamari is in a stupor (magnolias get half-asleep in the winter) and fae's still trying to check to see if Anuli's okay, meanwhile Anuli is making this into an overdramatic story in faer head, and fae thinks that Kamari is invincible, and that Kamari is sure to get a happy ending for the both of them.

Thank you for the ask!

[dreams-of-klag]

A lot of people see credit cards as either a sort of casual loan or as sort of like gambling-- a scary scary nightmare debt machine that you shouldn't touch. And yes, they can be a scary nightmare debt machine if you use it like a loan, but when you use it right, a credit card can be really useful.

Just to note, i am not an expert, just a 28 year old with ADHD who has been using a credit card without incident for six years. So here are my tips for how to use a credit card without screwing yourself over!

It is not a loan card. Do not. DO NOT. DO NOT purchase things on a credit card that you could not purchase on a debit card. "But my paycheck is coming next week" NO. "But I can pay it off over a few months" ABSOLUTELY NO. You don't know whats going to happen between now and then or over those few months. If something comes up and you need to spend your paycheck on something other than your credit card payment and you're stuck with that debt on there, it will start piling up interest and that shit adds up FAST. This is a cycle you do not want to get stuck in. Pay your card off IN FULL EVERY MONTH. I am not joking. Pay it off. In full. Every month. Don't spend money you don't have.

Set up an autopay for the minimum monthly payment. I have my bank automatically pay the $25 minimum every month. This way even if i forget to pay the full bill exactly on time, I wont get hit with a fee for not paying the minimum.

Your credit limit is not money that you have. The credit limit is the maximum amount of money that a credit card will let you spend in one month. In theory, it is the amount of money that the bank trusts you to be able to pay back. In practice, it is a way for a bank to entice you into spending irresponsibly so that they can charge you more interest. When i got my first credit card at 22, they gave me a $10,000 credit limit because BANKS DO NOT CARE IF YOU LIVE OR DIE. To be clear, if i spent $10,000 on my credit card today, i would spend the rest of my life paying off that balance and the accrued interest. Your credit limit has no relationship to reality. Do not spend money that you don't have.

Dont wait to the end of the month to pay your bill. Pay it whenever you think of it. Hell, I sometimes send four payments in a month. Most credit card companies make it easy enough to check the balance on their app, so whenever i think of it, I'll check my credit card balance, then go to my bank account app, and pay whatever the amount was. It does mean i need to have other ways of tracking monthly expenses because i dont get one clean total at the end of the month, but it just eases my mind to know i wont miss a deadline or completely miss paying it.

Just get one. People go out and get like seven credit cards. This can work for people who really game the rewards system, and if thats you, more power to you. Sometimes it can be beneficial to have one separate card that you use for online purchases, but i do not feel the need to do this.

Ok so given all of this, why use a credit card in the first place instead of a debit card? There is nothing wrong with using a debit card if it works for you. I just get nervous having something with a direct link to my bank account just out and about in the world, so a credit card gives me some level of protection there. Also, the really big evil banks that host credit cards have really robust security, so if a suspicious charge comes up, they're really good about detecting it and reimbursing.

Rewards points! I forgot about my cashback rewards for a hot minute anthey piled up! i just ordered $120 boots and used my cashback so i only had to pay $2. If i were spending on a debit card, that would just be money I'm not getting.

We all have to live in this bitch of a system, and truly the only way to survive is to know how the game works (not that I do). This is not to say that everyone should go out and get credit cards. If you struggle with impulse control or compulsive spending then this is not for you.

TLDR: Credit cards ARE inherently evil and WILL try to scam you out of your money, but if you know how to use it and follow its stupid rules, you get free boots and your checking account will be less likely to be compromised.

[auxiliarydetective]

OC Pride Challenge: Day 28

You can find the challenge here

Today's prompt is Reflect and I decided to write something for my girl Raevyn. She definitely is a person who reflects a lot and who has a lot to reflect about, considering the wild stuff she goes through every month.

Raevyn sat on her couch, a glass of Terran rum in her hand, staring out into space. Ever since she could think of, that had been her habit when she wanted to reflect. The beauty of space was comforting to her in a way that was hard to describe. In a way, it might be a sign that she had always been meant to go explore the universe. Her eyes wandered to her metal fingers and her metal feet put up on the cushions. For a moment, her mood darkened. The pain was still there, somewhere in the back of her mind. But she decided to push it away. These new limbs were a gift. Yes, the reason why she had them was awful, but it was incredible what her friends had done for her to allow her to live almost as if nothing had ever happened. These limbs were a technological masterpiece and she was proud to wear them.

When she looked back at the last one and a half years, it really had been a wild ride. She had experienced the crushing pressure of knowing what would happen and not being allowed to change anything about it. All those close calls she had originally only heard stories about, she had now experienced first-hand. But also her own story had repeated itself, for as terrible as it was, but also for as beautiful as it was. Because her being thrown back in time had given her a second chance. A chance for new beginnings, like getting to meet Alara and getting to know the wonderful person she was, yes, but also a chance to set things right. She still remembered the day her relationship with Gordon had fallen apart, their argument over Orrin Channing and the consequences of it. This time, there had been no argument. The whole situation had gone over so much more smoothly and safely. Even Gordon’s love for Laura had solved itself. Raevyn had accepted that he loved her but he had picked Raevyn over Laura all on his own.

Now, things would be different. New, unexpected.

That was when the doorbell rang. Raevyn could tell who it was just by the thoughts sweeping over to her alone. That energetic, perpetually-moving set of waves that she had grown so attached to.

“Come in,” she called, put down her glass and got up from the sofa.

The door swept open and Gordon came in, a smile on his lips.

“What can I do for you, hm?” Raevyn asked, taking his hands. “Need me to get you out of trouble?”

“I didn’t actually get in trouble for once,” Gordon said. “Can’t a guy visit his girlfriend without needing anything from her?”

“But you do need something.”

“A kiss.”

Raevyn giggled and kissed him, feeling his beard rub against her skin. That was a feeling she never wanted to miss ever again. Though the feeling of her hands in his was different now, his thoughts still felt the same.

“How was your day?” she asked.

“Exhausting,” Gordon grumbled. “Can I?” he asked, pointing at the synthesizer.

“Please, I’m already drinking, go ahead.”

“Thanks.” He ordered a beer from the synthesizer, took a swig, then continued explaining: “I spent pretty much all day crawling through the Jefferies tubes, checking and repairing power conduits. My body is killing me.”

“Awww, baby,” Raevyn sighed. “Come on, let’s sit down.”

So, they let themselves fall onto the couch, cuddled together. Raevyn picked her glass back up, clicking it against Gordon’s beer bottle.

“So, how was your day, huh?” Gordon asked. “You seem like you’re in a good mood, so it can’t have been too bad.”

“Oh, it was stressful,” Raevyn remarked, taking a sip of rum. “There’s security issues all over the place since we sent Lieutenant Kelly back. We really fried the ship’s systems.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. But what’s got you smiling? I wanna know what makes you smile.”

“You,” Raevyn said sweetly. “I’m glad to still be here, that’s why I’m smiling.”

“Is this about the Kaylon attack again? Baby-”

“No, it’s not. Don’t worry, I’m not starting with that old story again.  I’m just happy I didn’t get sent back in time this time around.”

“Oh,” Gordon gasped. “So you mean the whole situation with Kelly is how you ended up in our timeline in the first place?”

“Yup. She got pulled forwards, I got pulled back. But this time, I was smart enough not to get too close to the quantum accelerator and I got to stay.”

“Thank god,” Gordon said. “I don’t know how I’d spend my life without you.”

“That’s how I feel, too. I’m just glad I don’t have to start all over again because this… this is the best version of us I could wish for.”

“And what happens now?”

“I’m free,” Raevyn smiled. “No more worrying about things to come, no more having to keep the timeline in check. The future is ours to shape… and I’m ready. I’m ready to take the next step.”

[thotsforvillainrights]

I need some skeptic comfort

Is it okay if you write a some skeptic comfort where the reader feel stupid and is paranoid of failing. So he tries his best to comfort the reader and tell them that everything will be okay.

(You and me both!)

~Failure~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

“Slow down or your fingers will cramp up.” He suddenly speaks, breaking the consistent silence in the home office. “It’s bold of you to tell me to slow down when you’ve been typing a million miles an hour for the past few minutes.” You quip as you continue working. “Besides, this is a big project Tomoyasu. I mean you said it yourself right?” You remind him of the meeting from earlier today at Feel Good. He falls silent and begins to think as you continue working. Having work with your significant other has its advantages, but it also has its downsides as well. One of which is this moment between the two of you. He could see the panic set into your eyes when you once again can’t figure out a simple problem arising on your screen. Your breathing becomes slightly erratic but you try to mask it under a yawn. He’s no fool. He sees it happen to often with you in the past week. “You know, if this is too much for you to take on then I can move you to a different-”

“NO! No I got it! I just...I just have to...I...” Without a single warning, a tear rolls down your cheek. Your eyes watery, stinging as more tears follow too. He gasps quietly and slowly closes his laptop before bringing you into a hug. He hated seeing you break down and cry like this. Partially because he loved you, and also because he didn’t know how to comfort people very well when they cried. Had this been anyone else then he would’ve left them alone but it was you so he wasn’t going anywhere. “What the Hell has been up with you? You’ve been acting like this ever since the meeting. I told you if the project was too much for you to be apart of then I can move you Y/N. It’s no hard feelings.” You sniffled and gripped tightly onto his clothes chest. “No please. I can do it. I just...I’m so scared of fucking it all up is all. I know how essential Feel Good’s reputation is. We’re supposed to be one of, if not the best tech companies out there. If I can’t contribute to the success then I could possibly bring down the company single handed!” He scoffed at your words and rolled his eyes. “I highly doubt you messing up would sink the company.”

“Yeah but I just don’t want to be a failure to you or anyone else. I’m terrified of fucking it up, I’m terrified Tomoyasu.” You pulled back and looked up at him deep in thought. He sighed and went to wipe some tears from your face. “I failed once.” Upon hearing this you perked up in curiosity. By word of mouth you’d never heard such a thing about him! Everyone always spoke of his success and perfectionism. You didn’t think it was possible for a man like him to have ever failed a single day in his life. “You failed?” You tilted your head to the side and he elaborated. “Yes, it was back when I was first working for Feel Good Inc. The new security system, I helps implement it. When finished setting up I didn’t take the extra second to double check it. That was the first time someone hacked into our company. I almost lost my job because of it. Surprises me to this day that I was able to become a board member after having screwed up that bad before. Anyway, what I’m trying to tell you is that sometimes failure is imminent. Although I don’t like to think about it. It was my failure that caused me to become the way I am now. It’s why I rarely EVER make a mistake both inside and outside of work. If it hadn’t been for that failure then I wouldn’t have been able to step up my game. Y/N if you mess up by chance, it’s not the end of the world alright? Just try to relax and stop the whining...you’re soaking my blazer.” You sniffle once more and kiss his cheek. “I love you...”

“I love you too, now go wipe your face and get back on it. I’ll look it over once you’re done and weed out any mistakes.”

[tigger8900]

The Daughters of Izdihar, by Hadeer Elsbai

⭐⭐ 1/2

In Alamaxa, a fantasy analogue of Egypt, women are considered the property of first their fathers and then their husbands. The Daughters of Izdihar, a feminist organization led by the mysterious Malak Mamdouh, is determined to change that by securing the right for women to vote, but progress is slow. When Nehal is forced to marry Nico, a man of high social status whom she cares nothing for, she spots an opportunity when she discovers he's in love with Giorgina, a working class woman involved with the Daughters. According to her plan, in exchange for permission to keep Giorgina as a concubine, he would grant permission for Nehal to study magic at the Weaving Academy. But with her reputation at stake, Giorgina rejects the plan, though not before Nehal becomes involved with the Daughters' activism. As the stakes rise, can these two women from wildly different walks of life work together to achieve the Daughters' goals?

I try to be generous with books, particular when they're first in a series(in this case, The Alamaxa Duology). Sometimes themes aren't developed until later books, and judging characters before they fully develop feels a bit like bullying a child who's still trying to find their place in the world. But all of that said, there were some things I have serious issues with in this book, things that I doubt are going to get better in the second part. Even though there were other aspects that I really liked, I find it incredibly difficult to look past the things that I thought were horrible.

I'll start with what I liked. The setting was gorgeous, and I loved how familiar locations(the map is basically northern Africa and the Mediterranean rotated 90 degrees counterclockwise) and cultures were re-imagined into this fantasy world. This is the second fantasy version of Egypt I've read about recently(the first being P. Djèlí Clark's A Master of Djinn), and of the two it's my favorite setting. I did have to read with google up on my phone to check terminology frequently, but it wasn't any more bother than flipping back to a glossary, which is a familiar exercise for any fantasy reader. I also loved the examination of how social standing grants privilege, particularly in regard to putting yourself and others at risk in the context of protest and activism.

I liked the magic system — divided by element into Earthweaving, Waterweaving, Airweaving, and Fireweaving — well enough, but as a long-time fan of Avatar: The Last Airbender I couldn't help but notice that Weaving was almost exactly Bending. Seriously. You could do a find-replace, that's how close it is. So no wonder I thought it was cool, because I really like A:TLA's magic system. I did appreciate how in Daughters of Izdihar the type of powers weren't determined by character origin, so you weren't constrained to weaving a certain element just because of who your parents were.

Moving on to what I was less fond of, right off the bat I felt that the writing style was a bit odd. I felt like things were moving along at a fast clip, but like I was being told about them rather than getting a chance to truly appreciate them alongside the characters. I noticed this strongly for the first several chapters, but I can't tell if this dropped off as the story got into full swing or if I just got used to it. I also felt that some of the dialogue was anachronistic. The story had a period fantasy feel to it, not medieval but not modern either, but every so often a character would swear like they were in the 21st century. It knocked me out of my immersion every time that happened.

And now we get to the thing I really didn't like. I love a good shades of gray story, where the morals aren't clear and sometimes the ends have to justify the means, but in order to pull this off the shades of gray have to be explored in the story. In this book, the protagonists would do questionable things in the pursuit of good over and over again, and essentially shrug off any criticism. It seemed as if the audience was meant to nod along with them as the objecting characters were dismissed. Particularly inexcusable was the treatment of Nico. After how Nehal treated him in the first half of the book, particularly her dismissal of his obvious distress, I found it next to impossible to like her as a character. And then he just got over it, like it had never happened, and the story didn't bother to examine this at all or act like it was anything less than entirely appropriate.

I grew up around a particularly toxic type of feminism that, frankly, treated it as amusing when women hurt men, like it was some kind of karmic payback. It took me longer than I care to admit to realize how horrible this was, and to distance myself from it. The feminism elements of this story remind me very strongly of something I would've thought was cool back when I still thought that was positive empowerment for women. As I said at the beginning of this(long, sorry) review, it's entirely possible that the author is aware of all these things and intends to wrap them up in the second book. But all I have in front of me is the first book, and given the lack of any kind of reflection on or complex consideration of these themes(in contrast to the themes of class and privilege, which were handled very well), I'm not holding out much hope that they'll be treated any better in the second half of the story.