#but a file snake is really what sets my heart alight

[omg-snakes]

hello!!! so sorry to bother you with questions, but what is your opinion on the best pet snake for an absolute beginner? i've loved snakes since i was a kid but never had the possibility of owning one, but I might in a little while. i've heard that corn snakes are easy and cute? sorry if this is weird!!

Hello!

That's not a weird question, that's a great question!

The answer is that the best pet snake for an absolute beginner to reptiles is the one you have researched fully and love the most. While it's true that some snakes are more forgiving in terms of husbandry and may be easier to keep in captivity, with proper preparation most snakes in the hobby can be suitable for a first-time keeper.

Corn snakes are not the first snake species I ever kept, but they were the snake that fit me best, and by coincidence are also one of the easiest to keep. I know other folks for whom boa constrictors were their true best match, or ball pythons, or sand boas, or king snakes. Even more challenging snakes like rainbow boas or old-world rat snakes can be a fine first snake if you are fully prepared.

I guess the questions you should ask yourself are: Why do I want a pet snake? What appeals to me most about having a snake? When I picture myself with a pet snake, what does it look like? How big should my snake be? What should their enclosure look like? How important is interaction with my snake, and how often will we interact? What sorts of activities will my snake and I partake in? Should my snake be more active or more snuggly? What will my snake eat? How much space, time, and money can I reasonably devote to this snake's enclosure and long-term husbandry? How likely is that to change within a snake's lifetime?

There are no wrong answers to these questions. Sit down and really think about it. When you have your answers, write a list of pros and cons for species that match what you're wanting and weigh them against one-another. Price out enclosures and supplies and compare them for an "easier" snake that tolerates your local climate better versus a more challenging species that needs more specific humidity and temperature ranges.

Finally, listen to your heart... but act logically. If your heart-song happens to be playing to the tune of a more challenging species, then follow it! Regardless of the species you choose, be ready to read a ton, find peer-reviewed scientific articles about the snake species you've selected, see if books on their keeping are available and read those, join online communities for that species, learn their husbandry inside and out and backwards, talk to breeders of that species, understand their natural history and their native habitat and be prepared to recreate it in captivity before you bring that snake home.

It's a process, but at the end of it you'll have exactly what you wanted and nothing less.

[mypassionfortrash]

And here’s a couple of snippets from that Elsie fic. Nothing’s been proofed.

The bell at the front of the shop tinkled merrily making Elsie’s ears prick up. The sound was growing increasingly familiar as Christmas approached. The steady influx of customers sliced through the precious alone time she liked to steal on her shifts. But she always had time for Roger.

He left no time for Elsie to dart through on to the shop floor, but he was tapping away at the bell on the cash desk, eager to draw her out. “I don’t have all bloody day!”

“Oh, it’s you again,” Elsie smirked, placing her hands on her waist. “What can I do for my worst customer?”

Roger leaned over the cash desk, his features doused in mischief. “I believe the question is, what can I do for you.”

Elsie rolled her eyes and took up her post opposite Roger. She studied his expression, searching for some hint as to what he was scheming. Practically nose to nose with him, and she was none the wiser. “What are you playing at?”

Roger shrugged, diverting his gaze. “Nothing.”

“It’s something.”

“No, it’s nothing.”

“How was Montreux? Did you get me anything nice? Chocolate? Cheese? Oh, what about some schnapps?”

Roger became a Cheshire Cat. He hoisted a red gift bag into the air, and dangled it in front of Elsie’s face. When she reached for it, he tugged it from her grasp. “Santa told me you’ve been a bad girl this year.”

Elsie cocked her head to the side, and tugged her lower lip between her teeth. 

“I’m starting to believe him.”

“Santa’s full of shit, Roger. What’s in the bag?”

Roger took a step back from the counter, and raised an eyebrow. “You’re not allowed to open it until Christmas Day.”

“Oh come on!” Elsie sighed, blowing fiery strands of hair upwards. “That’s no fun.”

“I’m warning you, darling,” Roger scolded, handing the bag over. “Christmas Day. Santa’s watching.”

“Santa sounds like a bit of a pervert.”

“He probably is.”

Elsie’s features lightened. “Which reminds me. I have something for you.”

Roger puffed out his cheeks, his eyes growing, before his expression deflated. “Don’t get me wrong, Elsie, I like you. I’m flattered. But I’m just not that interested in you.”

Elsie disappeared into the abyss at the back of the shop once more, leaving Roger’s monologue unheard. She returned with an armful of records. “These should be the last of them,” she huffed, dumping the pile of vinyl on to the counter in front of Roger. 

Roger gingerly looked through the records.

Elsie clasped her hands underneath her chin, waiting for Roger’s assessment of her sleuthing efforts. “I’m sorry I couldn’t wrap them. Between studying and working, I-”

“They’re perfect. I thought most of these were impossible to get hold of anymore,” Roger remarked as he marvelled at Elsie’s offering. 

“Some of them are totally out of print. You’ve no idea how many mothballs I had to brave at the market for these.”

“You shouldn’t have, Elsie.”

“It’s the least I could do to get you to leave me alone.”

Roger stifled a laugh as he whipped his hand over Elsie’s arm, delivering a swift smack. Then that familiar look of concern returned. In a jovial mood, Roger appeared youthful and almost childlike. But when worry weaselled its way into Roger’s brain, he looked like a puppy left out in the rain. It amazed Elsie how quickly he could flit between the two; his baby blue eyes dashing from sparkling to sunken in seconds. “How are you spending Christmas?”

Elsie shrugged, allowing her arms to flop down at her sides. Her nose twitched, and yet her tone was cold and nonchalant. “Probably with my mum. It’s a five hour drive, but I can’t have her spending Christmas alone. You?”

“My mum and I are heading over to my sister’s. She’s got kids. Christmas is just nicer with kids in the house.”

———————————————————————————

“That sounds lovely,” Elsie smiled. Her mind wandered. Roger had kind eyes and a devilish sense of adventure. And the way he thought about the world in equal measures of wonder and fighting spirit. He’d make a great father someday, Elsie thought. He’d love that. 

She looked up. Roger’s lips were still moving. 

“What was that?”

“I asked when you were open again.”

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

As much as Roger loved his mother, his sister, his nieces and his nephews, it only took him until Boxing Day to get out of the house. If his mother wasn’t quizzing him on his love life, his sister was badgering him to distract the kids, leaving him smothered, with no time for himself. Even in his own home.

So, with fists clenched tightly inside his jacket pockets, Roger set off on foot, through the dark, into the deserted town centre. Unsure of what he searched for, he settled for a bottle of whiskey from the one open off licence. Like a precious newborn, he cradled it underneath his coat. Sauntering down Main Street. 

Shutters had been pulled on all the shops. The only light to be seen hung in hazy yellow beams, strobing down on to the crisp, white pavement. A perfect blanket, crunching under every step. There was nothing - no one - there to ruin it. A small reprieve from the noise of home; Roger couldn’t stifle a satisfied chuckle to himself. 

And then something caught his eye. A strip of gold spilled out on to the street just a block away; it flickered like a candle in a darkened room. Someone was inside the dark, grimy little record store. The one he must have wasted days inside. Clinging to the bottle like he clung to hope, his footsteps fell faster. Maybe she’d be there. The girl with the feathered red lipstick and the kind eyes. The one that made the best coffee and had the dirtiest laugh he had ever heard. The nineteen year old girl. Elsie.

“Elsie,” he sighed, looking through the glass. Roger was certain. The figure moving around inside, behind the grimy metal-grilled window, and snaking through the rows of records, was exactly the person he needed to see. The door to his left never looked so inviting. 

—————————————

Roger pushed the door open just a crack. The sound of Elsie’s favourite band seeped from the shop out into the baron night. Roger never did like Heart. He met Anne and Nancy once. They ignored him for Brian. How dare they. But he did love it when Elsie popped one of their albums on the turntable behind the till and shimmied and sashayed her way around the aisles of records. She couldn’t sing. Not even close. But in those moments, she looked so at ease with the world. He loved that. 

She wasn’t singing now, though. Accompanying Heart tonight was quiet shuffling and the sound of records being dumped into boxes. 

Roger sighed, dropping his shoulders. “Elsie,” he said, slipping inside. “I saw the light was on and I was just…”

Upon hearing his voice, Elsie stood up straight with her back to him. 

Caught off guard, Roger continued. “Happy Christmas, darling.”

Elsie went back to sorting through the pile of records in her arm. “Same to you, Roger.”

Blinking his eyes and shaking his head, Roger drew closer. Not once did she look at him. Her cold welcome only drew him closer, until he loomed just over her shoulder. “Have I done something.”

Shrouded in a curtain of bleach blonde hair, Elsie turned in the opposite direction. “No,” she began, stopping in the corner of the room to distribute more records into their rightful places. “Why would you think that?”

“You’re not your usual chirpy self, that’s all. What’s the matter, Elsie?”

Elsie’s voice shook as she dodged Roger once again. “Nothing.”

Sure enough, Roger followed her. Again. “I’m not buying it.”

“Well you’ll just have to,” she choked, scrambling to get away from him. 

Roger reached out and grabbed Elsie’s arm. She flew around to face him. Finally.

A constellation of violet and navy curved around the outside of her eye; deep, murky hues reeled Roger in until he came close enough to touch them. His mind raced with questions like who, or when, or why. But all he could do was stand there, eyeing her with the kind of pity reserved for wounded animals, not knowing what to say.

She couldn’t bring her eyes to meet his. Shame raged in her gut for even allowing him to see her like this. Let alone be so close to her. “You shouldn’t be here, Roger.”

“I think I’m right where I need to be,” he sighed, assessing the damage. 

She felt like a lab rat under a microscope as Roger attempted to understand. “Can you let go of me?”

————————————

Roger swiped his finger under Elsie’s blackened eye once again, before dropping his hand to his side. He trained his eyes on his feet, taking a deep breath. His shoulders hunched up. And then fell. “You know, I’ve got a bottle of whisky tucked into the lining of my coat. You look like you could use a drink.”

She still couldn’t look at him. The humiliation weighed on her mind like a sack of coal. “That’d be nice.”

Elsie and Roger shuffled through to the back room. Single file like a death march. She flopped down on the couch while he shrugged off his coat. Her eyes were glued to him as he pulled two mugs from the cupboard, clinking them down on the countertop beside the kettle. The metallic sheer and crack of the bottle lid punctuated the silence between them. It did nothing to alleviate the awkwardness of the situation. The liquid sloshed into the mugs like the seasick stomach she wrapped her arms around. 

Roger’s baby blues peered down over his half rimmed glasses with the kind of concern your father might show if you really were in trouble. The ‘drink up and it’ll all feel better in the morning’ kind of look. Not that Elsie would have known about that. But she took the mug and threw the measure back. She regretted it. The burn seared its way down her gullet and set her churning innards alight. 

But my god, if she didn’t feel better.

Every muscle in her body loosened as she sank back on the couch. She wiped the excess fire water from her lips on the cuff of her jumper. And then she spoke. Or rather, slurred. “How was your sister’s? You were at your sister’s, weren’t you?”

[ancientbooshartifacts]

How Dave Brown Falls in Love

Author: coeur_de_noir

Year: 2008

Rating: PG

Pairing: Mike/Dave, Noel/Dave, Noel/Julian

“Alright?” Dave looks up from his sketchpad, a half smile of greeting on his lips before his eyes even properly register the figure lolling in his doorway. His blue eyes glint in amusement as he takes in the jumbled assortment of hair and elbows and knees propped up by the doorjamb, all unlikely angles and unexpected curves. “You look like a Brecht,” Dave says, and chuckles. Noel laughs softly, his intoxicated grin so wide that his back teeth catch and reflect the dim lamplight. “Yeah, and I'm hung like a Pollock,” he retorts, and staggers the short but strewn path across the student common room to the sofa, upsetting Dave’s pencil box, a glass of water and a packet of cigarettes on the way. “Anyway,” he continues, “I’m a post modern bitch, Brown. Warhol, not Brecht, yeah? All bright colours and social irony.” “You’re a tit,” says Dave, patting Noel’s knee with one hand and righting the glass with the other. He shoves a cushion over the puddle of water and watches it soak into the fabric, before pushing it half under the coffee table, like it never existed. He picks up his sketchpad again, and rests it on his knee. “Whatcha drawing, boy wonder?” Noel peers over his shoulder, pushing his errant hair back with a languorous hand, his skin smelling like an incongruous mixture of hashish and musk sticks and sweat. His smooth cheek presses against Dave’s slightly stubbled one, and his breath fans across Dave’s skin, tickling his throat. Dave feels Noel smile as they both regard the sketch coming to life on the page under Dave’s expert fingers. “Hey, its me!” Noels pleasure is evident in his voice, and his arms snake around Dave’s waist, hands clasping just above Dave’s belly button. He leans forward slightly, and his thin chest presses along Dave’s back, so close that Dave can feel the protrusion of each rib. Noel laughs, and Dave’s world vibrates. “You’ve got my nose wrong, Brown. Back to portraiture 101 for you!” Dave swats his forearm amiably. “It’s an elusive nose, Fielding, impossible to capture, changing at will.” “Like a chameleon!” Noel exclaims, and laughs. “Born adapter, blending into its environment,” Dave agrees. “Is it a nose.. no, its an ear.. oh nooo it’s a crooked finger!” Noel giggles and Dave rolls his eyes. “Now you’re starting to sound like a Picasso.” Noel smiles and presses his lips against the pulse in Dave’s throat, and Dave can feel more than see that Noel has closed his eyes. The intimacy is unexpected, but not unwelcome or unknown - it’s Noel, after all, and his casual touches have been more or less constant since Dave met him. It’s comfortable, actually. Somehow right. “I like that you’re drawing me,” Noel says. And it was more or less at that exact moment that Dave Brown fell in love with Noel Fielding. * “You should come see this guy with me tonight Dave, I’m telling you, he’s genius!” It’s months after that night, and Dave still hasn’t done anything about the small shining feeling he has in his gut that’s expressly reserved for Noel. He looks over the top of his camera, smiling at Noel’s enthusiasm and patiently waiting for Noel to recall that he’s meant to be posing. He laughs inwardly as he sees the moment of recollection, the way Noel looks a bit furtive and guilty before settling back on the windowsill and arranging his limbs into a graceful recline. The camera flashes and Dave moves a little closer, setting up the next shot. “Who is he, anyway?” Dave’s voice is absent, and he isn’t really listening, but he likes the way that Noel’s face looks when he talks and he wants to get that on film if he can. His fingers adjust the lens and he bends, poised in a shaft of sunlight, his hair a golden scruff around his face. “His name is Julian Barratt and he’s the best comedian I’ve ever seen!” Noel’s face lights up, and he leans forward, his eyes widening in excitement. “Dave, honestly, its like he’s reaching into my head and pulling out the words..” Dave chuckles. “Trust you to fall for someone who could be you, you tosser,” he says affectionately, expertly clicking and moving and waiting patiently for the next right expression, the next right light, the next right Noel. “Noel Fielding, the ultimate narcissist.” Noel blushes slightly, and Dave, ever observant, frowns in consternation. Noel, that shameless poptart, blushing? He slowly lowers the camera. “Do you like him?” Dave asks, and his tone is almost incredulous. “Like, like him, like him?” Noel bites his thumbnail and looks slightly shifty, hesitating, and Dave thinks that its pretty much all the answer that he needs. “You do!” It’s not quite an accusation, but its close. “Oh shut it, Brown.” Noel’s hesitation dissolves into a laugh and Dave tilts his head, unsure he’s read the situation correctly. “I just told you I liked him, didn’t I? He’s a brilliant comedian.” “Oh. Oh yeah, right.” Dave shakes himself, dismissing his thoughts, and raises the camera again. Noel flashes him that spectacular sunshine grin, the one Dave thinks he should patent, like how Betty Grable insured her legs or whatever. When he’s famous, that’s the grin that is going to melt the pants off every teenage girl this side of London. Noel settles into a more sedate smile and Dave sighs, wanting that animation back. He decides to push a few buttons, and tells himself its for the shots, just the shots. “So,” he begins, “whats he look like then?” “Hmm?” Noel looks up at him, his brows raising. “Who?” Dave tsks impatiently. “You goldfish. Barratt, of course, who else?” “Oh!” Noel pauses, his mouth opening in thought, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek. His eyes wander upwards and Dave snaps off a few quick shots to make sure he gets that look. “Well, he’s tall, I guess. Hugely tall, actually. And, um, unkempt, kind of. Wears odd clothes. Dreadful hair, looks like its been cut by his mum. A big, manly kind of man. Very.. ahh, masculine. And weird...” Dave relaxes slightly, unaware that he was even tense. This Barratt guy doesn’t sound like Noel’s type at all. “... weird and awkward, like his skin is itching. Like he’s itching right out of his freckled northern skin.” “Ah.” Dave says. “He’s clearly from Leeds.” Noel explodes in a burst of laughter. “Clearly from Leeds! Genius!” Dave captures a few last shots. He’ll call these ones Fielding in Motion: Noel’s all bent in on himself, his laugh exuding from every inch of his body, like a muppet. “You know the type. Doesn’t have a car, picks up women in his tractor.” “Or in his wheelbarrow!” Noel giggles and puts on a northern accent that is still somehow distinctly South London, only deeper. “Oi! Get in me wheelbarra!” “Aww ya cheeky vixen!” Dave chimes in and laughs along with Noel, comforted by the fact Noel is so willing to take the piss. “Alright then. Get your gumboots on lovey. Sounds like we have a date with your husky northern gent tonight, eh?” “As if! Gumboots!” Noels smile of exasperation and excitement, when he turns it on Dave, makes Dave’s heart stop. * The applause is fractured and uncertain as Barratt leaves the makeshift stage, and Dave isn’t quite sure what to think. Noel was right, Barratt was kind of like him, with all the flights of fancy and tangents and movement - but with less natural appeal and a lot more anxiety. He had a tendency to leave the uncomfortable silences hanging rather than fill them with beguiling chatter the way that Noel did, and although he was funny, Dave found himself cringing more than once. Beside him at the bar Noel is fair near bouncing out of his skin. “Wasn’t he brilliant, Dave! Didn’t I tell you!” Noel spots Barratt across the pub and waves him over, his grin too large for his face, his eyes alight with eagerness as the big guy approaches. Dave mumbles something non committal, and it wouldn’t have mattered if he said what he really thought anyway because Noel was already turning away from him, shining the full force of his disarming charm into the face of a clearly discomfited Barratt. “Julian! That was brilliant! Everything... you know, everything that you said .. it was all just amazing. I loved it!” Noel’s enthusiasm is almost as painful to watch as Barratt’s awkward receipt of it. Noel looks like an excited puppy that’s torn between shagging Barratt’s leg or doing a little piddle on the carpet. Just as Dave decides that the mount is more likely, Noel leans over the bar and shouts for a round. Barratt’s gaze flicks in Dave’s direction, but doesn’t quite meet Dave’s own. He nods in acknowledgement, and Dave nods back, and then Noel is pushing the pint into Barratt’s hands and the moment is over. Dave sighs and settles back against the bar, listening with growing pain as the words flow back and forth between Noel and this Barratt character. Noel and Barratt form a circle for two, unconsciously excluding everything else around them as their conversation grows more absurd. Dave can see why Noel likes him - they complement each other almost exactly, like two sides of a coin. Noel is filling in all the awkward silences, and Barratt’s deep tenor is rumbling in appreciation and its like they've known each other for years. Dave forces a smile as Noel turns even further away, drawn against the big man like filings to a magnet. And then Dave sees the look in Barratt’s eyes, and suddenly it’s hard to think of him as 'Barratt' anymore. Suddenly he’s Julian, and the look in Julian’s eyes is familiar because it’s the look that Dave sees every day in the mirror - it’s the look that says that Noel Fielding has entered your life and made you love him and you don’t quite know what to do about it. He gives Julian a half smile of shared understanding and drains his pint in a single swallow. “Righto, lads, I’m off.” “Daaavee,” Noel whines. Noel tries to look at Dave, but he can’t quite draw his eyes away from Julian, and with a sinking feeling Dave suddenly knows that Julian has become Noel’s personal sun, the object that he’ll orbit around for all of his days whether he knows it, or not. It hurts more than he expects, but its also kind of a relief. “Dave nothing,” he smiles, and raises his hand in a half salute to Julian. “See you guys around” he says, and ambles out of the pub and into the dark London night. He was still in love with Noel of course, but that was almost the exact moment that he knew that he would never do anything about it. * Dave sits, laptop nestled in the thick bed of Bollo’s furry knees, blue eyes all smeared with greasepaint and staring fixedly at the flickering screen. He brings up a file, and smiles, his fingers moving with certainty on the mouse. The now famous Fielding-Barratt banter washes over him from across the room, but he isn’t really listening. It’s been years since their personal universe has had the power to hurt him; these days he just records it for posterity. He finds it comfortable to be a part of it, actually. Seeing Julian now - the way his eyes follow Noel like they were on a lead, how he pines for the thing that he wants most but thinks he cant have - Dave thinks he got off lightly. Noel is still Noel of course. He loves Julian unreservedly, and never gives a thought to the fact that Julian is the centre of his universe - Noel just accepts it as the natural order of things and basks in Julian’s adoration, never really thinking about what it might mean to someone who questioned those feelings rather than taking them as their due. Dave’s love as it was has extended, growing to encompass the Boosh in entirety - Noel and Julian and Rich and Mike. His smile deepens a bit at the thought of Mike, actually, and his eyes finally leave the screen to seek the little guy out. Across the room, Mike meets his gaze, wrinkling his nose in Noel and Julian’s general direction as they verbally beat each other. They are co-conspirators, both excluded by the way Noel and Julian are each oblivious to anyone but each other, and Dave likes that - it seems to bring he and Mike closer together. Dave rolls his eyes in sympathy and Mike gets up, his slight figure weaving through the discarded costumes and beer bottles and bubble machines that are scattered over the dressing room floor. He plonks down next to Dave, his turban askew, and passes Dave a roach. As Dave inhales, Mike rests his head on Dave’s shoulder, cosying up to the Bollo fur with a sigh of satisfaction. Dave smiles at the slight weight of Mike, and thinks it feels pretty good. Pretty right, in fact. Mike takes the roach back and glances at the screen, eyes crinkling in delight. “Hey! s’me!” he says, and watches as Dave’s clever fingers add titles and select frames and do all that other mysterious stuff that only Dave knows how to do. “Course it is, little Naboo,” Dave says, in his Bollo voice. “Naboo and Bollo are the Boosh. Never mind them jazzy benders.” Mike laughs and glances over at Noel and Julian, who, having abandoned their sparring, have now settled on the couch, heads bent close as they birth a new creative love child. “Yeah, I’m the hardest working shaman in showbiz!” Mike asserts, and reaches up to brush back a sweaty lock of Dave’s hair. “Blood sweat and tears,” Dave agrees, then adds “sweat, mostly.” Mike grins and looks up at Dave, his expression both innocent and impish. “You look like a Monchichi with your Bollo head off, you know.” he says, and laughs. “Want me to fan your balls?” And it is more or less at that exact moment, that Dave Brown fell in love with another Fielding.

[likingletsplays]

Bim’s Secret (6/6)

Authors note:

You can find parts: 1---2---3---4---5 

This is from Google’s perspective.

Google closed his eyes when Bim’s lips touched his cheek. He felt like his core was on fire. He opened his eyes again and smiled at Bim. He walked slowly out of the room and felt like his world was shifting all out of skew. He shook his head trying to make the world right itself and walked out of Ego Inc. to the studio. He walked slowly to his computer and turned the it on. He grimaced looking at the clock. It only read three o’clock. He had five hours to wait.

“I’ll see you soon.” Dark said walking out of Wilford’s office. Dark took five steps then stopped his black eyes landing on Google “Hel… Google, you look like your deep in thought.”

Google nodded slowly, looking up at Dark from his chair, “I think I understand what you were telling me the other night.”

“Oh?” Dark asked a small smirk on his face, “Would you like to talk about it?”

Google rubbed his face, “Not in the house.” He whispered back.

“Let’s talk here then.” Dark offered. Google stood and walked over Wilford’s set. He sat in the guest chair and looked over to Dark waiting for him to join him.

Dark cracked his back and neck before sitting down on Wilford’s chair, “So what have you understood?”

“You told me ‘It doesn’t matter how different you are. If they care they accept you for all of who you are. And you accept them. You take in the good the bad and the monster. Just remember that’. I think I understand all of it, but the last thing you told me really makes since now,” Google mumbled his eyes dropping to his lap, “But I may have realized it too late.”

Dark frowned, leaning forward slightly resting his elbows on his knees, “What did you do Google?”

Google took a shuttering breath, “I found out what Bim was; without his permission….without him telling me. I recorded him without him knowing. And by the time I was planning to tell him what I knew, I said it in a way that I knew Bim wouldn’t understand at first. I said it to where I knew he would be impulsive because I wanted him to be impulsive.”

“Impulsive how?” Dark questioned sitting back up and crossing his arms over his chest.

Google sighed shaking his head and answered his voice shaking, “I fell for Bim. I didn’t realize it then but I can see it so clearly now. I put him to bed last night, I didn’t tell my brothers what I knew about Bim. I avoided telling them on purpose, I hid the information away from them so they wouldn’t know. I….I wanted him to be mine…so I tricked him. We had a conversation the day before and I could read his body signs. I knew how he was reacting to me. So I worded it the same way. I made sure he would think I wanted to talk about him being gay again. I knew Bim had taken a liking to me.”

“So you tricked him into sleeping with you.” Dark said nodding slightly, “But how would that affect Bim?”

Google looked up meeting Dark’s eyes. Google breathed out heavily, tears slipping down his face, “I wanted to manipulate him. I know what the….according to your verbiage, monster that he is. So I thought holding his heart as well as knowing that could get me to my eventual goal. Going into it this morning I wasn’t even intending to tell him what I knew.”

“You do know what happens with androids though when you sleep with someone.” Dark stated frowning.

“Yes but I’ve only seen it with Bing who was head over heels for King. It was so obvious anyone and everyone could see it from a mile away. I thought I would be alight. I thought I hadn’t actually fallen for Bim. I was wrong. I thought I would be in charge of everything; that I could control all aspects of it. But then he kissed me and I felt like my whole body was on fire. But it was an amazing fire. I wanted more…no more than wanted… I needed it. I couldn’t even let go of him once he was in my arms. After sex…” Google sniffled rubbing the tears away only for them to be quickly replaced by new ones, “I changed.”

“Changed how? I know things change but I’ve never had someone explain it to me.” Dark said his eyes still trained on Google.

“My whole system, I love Bim Dark. My primary objective changed Dark.” Google paused straightening up in his chair his voice going completely deadpan, “My primary objective is to protect Bim Trimmer at all costs. Nothing will ever cause harm to him.” After a few seconds Google relaxed back in his chair.

Dark sighed, his blue aura showing more than the others, “Google you need to tell Bim this. But you also need to accept that he may choose to push you away. And you have to live with his decision.”

Google nodded, “I know.”

Dark leaned forward, “What is the probability of him choosing to walk away?”

Google met Dark’s eyes, “98 percent.”

Dark nodded, “Google, I never like to see any of the Egos hurt like this… least you,” he reached out placing his hand on Google’s shoulder, “I’ll be here if you need me.” He stood then and walked away. Google stared at the empty chair in front of him feeling like he had nothing left. Humans aren’t the stupid ones; we androids are. I had something that I would now kill for and I was trying to use it to my advantage. Google stood slowly and walked back to his desk. He slowly connected himself and began to watch the footage from earlier that day. He watched Bim in his element. The joy that lit up his face made Google feel like his core was once again on fire. He loved seeing the happiness light up Bim’s face. Google also felt some guilt seeing the worry mar Bim’s face whenever he asked about why Google hadn’t been replying to any of the intros commercial breaks or outros he had been working on.

~

“Blue Jim,” Google turned in his chair to face Camera Jim who was walking in the studio, “how’s the editing going?”

“Getting there,” Google replied his tongue between his teeth, “just struggling to find the intro between the twelve that Bim did for the interview part.”

“Well Bim was paranoid that you weren’t happy with it,” Camera Jim said pulling a chair up next to Google, “So he kept wanting to do retakes.”

Google huffed, “I didn’t mean to do that. I had to step away from the computers. I didn’t know how much it would worry him.”

“He respects you Blue Jim. He knows you do the best you can and he wanted to give you the best one.” Camera Jim explained

Google nodded and opened his mouth to reply to Camera Jim when Bim walked in the studio. Google could see he had showered. He was in jeans, a casual tee-shit and the jacket that Google had gotten him. Google couldn’t help but smile to see him in it, “Can you give me ten minutes Bim?” Google asked.

Bim nodded, “I’ll be in my office.”  Google watched him go then turned back to the computer.

”Which ones are a no?” Camera Him asked his eyes back focused on the screen.

“I’ve only been able to get rid of two of them; one his voice was too shaky the other he was out of focus.” Google pointed to the two at the end of the list.

“Let’s go through them then. I can help choose one if you like.” Camera Jim said. Google hit play and with Camera Jim’s help they were able to get the list down to two. “So out of the two which ones makes Bim seem most confident, but also goes with the show that your stitching together with this one.”

“This one,” Google said pointing to the one on the left, “but the other one has some really good angles.”

“So go with the good one Blue Jim, cut out some of the angles you like and add it in different parts of the show.

Google tuned to smile at Camera Jim “Alright Jim I have other things to take care of, we talk about the rest of this tomorrow.” Google said disconnecting himself from the computers and holding his hand out to Camera Jim.

“Looking forward to it Blue Jim.” Camera Jim responded shaking Googles hand. Google watched Bim walk to where he and Dark had talked earlier. Bim paused, his eyes dancing between the two chairs before he sat down in the guest chair. Google stayed in his own chair until Camera Jim had left the studio. He walked over to Bim and sat down across from him.

“So,” Bim said, “I need you to tell me how you recorded me and…how you found out I’m a….well what I am.”

Google reached in his pocket pulling out the camera that looked like a button, “I put this on your collar. It continuously records you. Last night you were practically falling over yourself down the hallway. So I tucked you into bed,” Google felt his face heat, “To get the recording from the camera all I had to do was press my thumb to it.” He held the small camera out to Bim so he could hold it.

Bim turned it over and over in his hand, “How do I know that there aren’t any other ones in this jacket?”

“I only had the one Bim.” Google replied, “And I’ll never do it again. Your too precious to risk losing over something that you would eventually tell me when you are comfortable telling me.”

“its so wrong on so many levels  that you recorded me Google.” Bim said his voice discussed, “Now how did you know about my secret?”

“Do you want me to show you?” Google asked quietly wincing at Bim’s words. Bim simply nodded. Google blinked the brown from his eyes fading away to the bright blue. A projection showed on the table, “My first clue was here,” Google explained stopping the video. Bim watched the video hearing himself take a deep breath in after cutting the woman’s thigh out and heard a grinding sound, “I wasn’t really sure what it was, but I got a confirmation when you went to see Dark,” Google continued fast forwarding to that part. He paused it again and zoomed in on the window. Bim’s eyes were a bright yellow, his pupils slit like a snakes. His mouth was open, long sharp teeth and a dark looking tongue reflected back at them.

Bim sat back his face going snow white, “Delete this now.” Google nodded deleting the file on the spot, “That’s all I wanted.” Bim stood to walk away.

“Please don’t leave,” Google said quietly. His core hurt, it felt like it was shutting down all at once. Don’t leave me Bim I don’t know what I would do without you.

“You know what I am Google, congrats,” Bim snapped turning back to face Google anger in his eyes.

“Bim I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t even tell my brothers.” Google said quickly.

Bim paused walking back and sitting down, “Why didn’t you tell them?”

“I fell for you. I don’t want anything to happen to you Bim. I love you.” Google replied shrugging his shoulders. He wish he could explain it better but he didn’t know how.

“You can’t love me,” Bim said a look of hurt in his eyes, “I don’t let people love me.”

“Why?” Google asked feeling his eyes sting with tears.

“I could kill you. Even with a steady diet…I’m always hungry. Just when I eat more I have more control of when I do and don’t eat.” Bim replied back.

“Bim I’m an android. I don’t have blood and flesh like normal people. I’m in no danger loving you.” Google argued.

“I’m not the only one that could hurt you,” Bim said quietly dropping his gaze to look at his lap.

“What do you mean?” Google asked.

“That’s something Dark only knows.” Bim answered standing up again.

“How about a secret for a secret Bim?” Google asked standing up himself.

“What could you tell me?” Bim asked

“My primary objective….in ok Google…” Google whispered.

“Google I would never do that to you. I know how much you hate being like that. It takes away all your own thoughts…I would feel like I’m hurting or manipulating you.” Bim whispered wringing his hands in front of him an uncomfortable expression on his face.

“I trust you.” Google replied reaching forward and taking Bim’s hands in his own.

With a slight hesitation Bim said, “Ok Google.”  with an uneasy look still on his face. Google stiffened letting go of Bim’s hands. He clenched his teeth fighting against the programs he had installed himself to prevent himself from going into this mode. When he gained admin privileges he had sworn to himself that never again would someone control him like that but he had to show Bim. He blinked feeling the brown melt from his eyes and all individual thought stopped, “What’s your primary objective?

In a monotone Google answered, “My primary objective is to protect Bim Trimmer at all costs. Nothing will ever cause harm to him.”

“Do you really love me Google?” Bim asked.

“How could I not Bim?” Google answered his voice still a monotone.

“Before you…before I can give you an answer…follow me.” Bim said turning. Google began to follow Bim a methodical movement to his steps, “Oh crap, sorry. Thank you Google.”

Google blinked a few times and felt like he could breathe again, all his senses coming back to him at once, “Where are we going Bim?” he scrambled after the small man who was disappearing down a hallway.

Bim stopped in front of a door and took the key off from around his neck. He hesitated for a second before handing it over to Google, “The lock is here.” Bim said sliding him thumb against the wood a keyhole appearing. Google slid the key in and unlocked it reaching for the handle.

“Wait,” Bim said his hand catching Google’s wrist, If you try to open it before its done unlocking you’ll get a pretty nasty shock.” Google nodded but didn’t pull his arm away. Once the shifting stopped Bim pushed the door open. Once Google was in he locked it behind them. “This is where I keep my food.” Bim pushed the metal doors open and led Google to the end of the room. Bim walked over to a book shelf and pulled down an old black book. “This is me.” Bim opened the book and a small boy smiled up at Google from a picture, “This was me in 1918. I was five. This is the only picture I can find of myself until 1935. I was 27. And that is my older brother. This was taken a month before…I changed.”

Google looked up at Bim, “Your 105?”

Bim nodded, “My brother and I went hiking and there was an accident. We fell into a cave, my brother died on impact. I lasted 4 days until I felt like I was going to starve to death. Now a body decomposes rather fast but luckily it was very cold,” Bim had tears in his eyes. Google shuffled closer pulling his wrist free to drape his arm over Bim’s shoulders, “I couldn’t start a fire, I was so hungry…I thought my brother wouldn’t mind if…I needed to eat….I didn’t want to die. So I ate. And I kept eating until I didn’t know who I was anymore.”

“But you’re here now.” Google said, “But what I want to know is how.”

Bim laughed somewhat bitterly, “The same way most of us Egos got here. You were built by Mark so you dint understand what its like…to have your own life then Nark creates you and your still you but also this complete other person. Last I remembered was 1918, the next thing I knew it was 2015 and I was on a show called ‘Hire my ass.’ I assume I was chosen because…well my story fit with the story Mark wanted to tell with me.”

“So do you age like most people or are you like Wilford and Dark who will never grow old?” Google asked pulling a shaking Bim into his arms.

“I won’t age, Wendigo’s are immortal,” Bim answered and pulled away slightly to close the book, “That is until a hunter finds me.”

“Hunter?” Google asked confused.

Bim nodded clinging tighter to Google. Google could feel Bim shaking with fear, “They dedicate their lives to eradicating my species. Someone will eventually figure out what I am. And I care about you too much to put you in that kind of danger Google. They would destroy you as well for being complacent with what I am.”

“Bim,” Google said pulling away slightly and taking Bim’s face between his hands, “I respect that you want to protect me, but I’m already part of this. I love you Bim and if a hunter came for you…there would be no way in hell that I would stand by and let them hurt you. I don’t want anyone else…I only want you.”

Bim sniffled stretching up on his toes to press a light kiss to Googles lips, “I care so deeply for you Google.”

“Then let me love you. Let me show you ill protect you, that I’ll never hurt you again. I’m so sorry for what I did before.” Google whispered leaning forward and kissing Bim’s cheeks and forehead.

Bim’s light brown eyes met Google’s dark brown ones, “I couldn’t imagine trusting my heart to anyone else.”

@bimgle @brynnicle @blaiddthewolf @egosofipliers @tmblr-a-binch @septiandplierandegos

Authors note:

Thank you so much to everyone who has supported and helped me through this story. I really have enjoined writing this fic and cant wait to revisit Google and Bim in the future.