#getting really positive reception after the doubt of whether a piece will come across well or not is an experience like no other

[upsidedownsmore]

i will never get over how nice people are about my work, reading people's comments after i post is so gratifying godddd you guys rock <3

This past year has been unbelievably wild, it's hard for me to express it in words tbh. I'm so thankful for you guys and for everyone supporting and encouraging me as I've been diving head first into art stuff, ngl it's the compliments and interactions I have with others that have been helping me get through an otherwise unbelievably busy and stressful year (even if it's good stress). Looking forward to summer break in a few weeks when I can get my life a bit more balanced and rest up a bit :)

[gentlemen-of-lies]

Gentlemen of Lies, chapter 6

Hart to Hart

(Next chapter)

(Previous chapter)

(Beginning)

————

“The next person on the list to check out is Lisa Hartley,” explained Owen the following morning. They were at a nicer café near Owen’s flat rather than the below average sandwich shop that served Curt’s hostel. Owen passed a file across the table they were sitting at, a more detailed overview of Lisa Hartley. Curt skimmed through it, already uninterested by the contents. “Previously a code-breaker at Bletchley, now she works as a receptionist. Good motive, as well as experience with secret codes, which is useful as a mole.”

“I suppose, but it says here she only speaks English and German. Not Russian. Surely that would be important.”

“Perhaps, but there’s every possibility she could have lied about not knowing Russian. Or maybe she still manages to feed them information without the need to speak the language.” Curt noted the lack of some sort of insult at Curt’s intelligence for not working that out himself. Was Owen starting to warm up to him? Hopefully. It would make his job a little easier, or at least less of a nuisance.

“So I’ll follow her after work, yeah?” Asked Curt. Owen shrugged his shoulders.

“If you want,” he said, utterly unbothered by the whole thing apparently. God, he was so annoying to deal with.

“Do you even wanna solve this case?” Curt demanded, slamming the file back on the table. Owen grabbed it and put it back inside his coat jacket.

“Jesus, Curt, why don’t you show the file to everyone in the café? This case isn’t mine, you were assigned to it by your agency for your own gain. Do you think I want to stay out of it? I would have solved it by now if I didn’t have to babysit you.”

“Oh shut up, you’re not some world famous spy, I haven’t seen you do shit. You’re all talk, no action. Whereas I’ve actually been doing my job.”

“Congratulations on doing the bare minimum. I’m busy, I have other cases to solve. So you go and continue you’re little game of hide and seek. Call me when you’ve actually solved something, if you ever do.” Owen stood up, deposited some coins, and left Curt sitting there with half a cup of tea unfinished (shaking it up a bit from all the coffee he was drinking which was making him very jittery; not a good state to be in as a spy).

“Bastard,” Curt replied under his breath, though still loud enough for Owen to hear him. Owen paid no attention, and soon Curt was sitting alone in the café, trying to move past his negative feelings towards his “partner” so he could focus on his own plans for the day. Since he couldn’t go to Lawson’s flat until late at night, he had the whole day to follow another suspect, so he supposed following Lisa wouldn’t be too much of a drain on his resources, even if he did want to follow Lawson instead. But then he thought about Owen, about how he had wanted to follow Owen as well, since he really was beginning to distrust him. Maybe he had put himself on the case to throw anyone off of him being the mole. It was certainly a plausible theory.

But, shit. Owen had left three minutes ago, soon to be four. He’d left it too late to follow him, and he had no idea where he was headed today. He didn’t even know which building Owen worked in.

Curt quickly got up, and left the shop. The street they were on was quite long, and he’d seen Owen walk to the right through the front window. Maybe it wasn’t too late for him to catch up. Curt looked to the right. He didn’t see Owen. But there was a one way street at the end. If he ran, he might be able to spot which direction Owen had headed down.

At the end of the street, thirty seconds later, Curt looked to the left- saw nothing- then to the right- and spotted Owen’s dark red jacket rounding a corner. One more quick sprint, as silently as he could, and Curt finally had Owen back in his sight. Looks like he had a new suspect to follow.

————

Curt trailed Owen from a distance, even more cautiously than he did with the other suspects. He definitely didn’t want to get caught in this instance. But Owen was none the wiser, and he ambled down the road, as if he had no care in the world. It was easy to follow him.

Around twenty minutes later, Owen (and Curt) arrived at the MI6 building on Westminster Bridge Road. It was an oddly long walk for Owen to take without hailing a bus, or a cab or something. Especially since he said he was busy. Didn’t look very busy to Curt.

Curt couldn’t enter the building, at least not yet, it was too risky otherwise. But at least he now knew the building that Owen worked in. Certainly a useful piece of information that Curt could use.

Half an hour later, Curt was tired of sitting around doing nothing. He had a lot to do, he just didn’t know what to do first. Perhaps he could enter the building, he was part of the secret intelligence after all, even if it wasn’t the British one. He could ask for files on Owen if it aided the case... but surely Owen would find out about that since he was on the case too. Damn. He couldn’t exactly break in to the MI6 building... could he?

‘Don’t be stupid,’ Curt told himself. ‘You’ve already got a flat to break into tonight.’ Besides, Curt was nowhere near the level of skill to break into a government facility on his own. Especially in broad daylight. But if nothing came up with Lawson’s flat, there was no harm in making some sort of plan to get a hold of Owen’s files.

Curt couldn’t stay there all day, eventually he’d get noticed, and besides, he didn’t want to sit still for hours anyway. There wasn’t a lot for him to do until five pm at least, so he decided to go to Lisa’s building where she worked as a receptionist and try and strike up a conversation with her. His flirting- if you could call it that- with Miss Lowe from his hostel had hopefully sharpened him up, and he’d be a little more winning with Lisa.

Lisa Hartley worked within the US Embassy, which for Curt was an ideal location. He wouldn’t exactly be out of place; he could just pretend he was an American looking for citizenship. All he had to do now was decide whether he’d follow her or Owen, since he couldn’t do both at the same time. Not that he had any idea what time Owen was going to leave work. In fact, leaving Westminster basically meant that Curt didn’t have much choice but to stick with Lisa. Fine. He at least knew where Owen worked, he could trail him another day. He’d take today to do what he was ordered to do, or at least until it got dark and he headed off to break into a man’s flat.

————

“Hi there, where do I go to see someone about citizenship?” Asked Curt to the woman at the embassy’s reception. He had arrived a few minutes ago, and the lady in front of him looked him up and down. She was pretty, dark brown hair done up in a neat hairstyle that every woman seemed to have. As with Miss Lowe, Curt tried to appear as suave as possible. But once again, it didn’t seem to do much.

“Do you have an appointment?” Asked Hartley.

“Uh, no. I didn’t know I had to make one.” She looked at him like he was an idiot, a look he was unwillingly beginning to get used to.

“Then I’m sorry, sir, I can’t let you through.”

“Aw, come on. I came all the way here. There ain’t anything you can do?” Perhaps his over exaggerated accent would work to soften her up a bit, but she stayed as uptight as ever.

“I can book an appointment for you, but you won’t see anyone today. Tomorrow at the earliest.”

“Sure, go ahead.” He didn’t want to make an appointment, in fact that would add in a real complication. He’d have to miss the appointment, sneak out of the building some way without Hartley noticing him. But he could still turn up tomorrow, try to talk to her a little more. Not that she seemed too much of a talker. Within five minutes of arriving, Curt had to say “good day” and find himself back on the grey-bricked street.

He could understand Lisa’s clearly pessimistic overview of life in general, and was the reason she was a suspect in the first place. She’d been important during the war, really important. A part of the code-breaking effort at Bletchley, probably very intelligent if she was part of the secret service in the first place. But now here she was, working as an unknown receptionist, telling idiots like Curt that they had to book an appointment in order to enter the building. Even if she wasn’t the mole, she was no doubt angry at the government.

Curt stood on the pavement for a minute or two. He couldn’t go back to the MI6 building, since Owen could have already left, and Curt would be waiting out there for hours, growing more and more suspicious to the surrounding people.

A break then? He wasn’t much in a position to take breaks, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He’d go back to his hostel and kill a few hours working out his plan for the night.

Either way, whether he failed to find much on Owen and Lisa, one way or another, he was getting information on Lawson by the end of the night. And would hopefully be one step closer to solving the case, preferably without Owen’s help.

[fanficshiddles]

You owe me, Chapter 23

Loki and April lay in bed together, having just had sex after their up and down reunion.

‘How did Thor find you?’ April asked, she was lying with her head on his chest.

‘The person who worked at the reception of the hotel grassed me up. Though I guess I was lucky that it was Thor who came instead of SHIELD.’ He sighed, stroking her back.

‘I’m sorry that I thought you had another girl or something. That you left me on purpose.’ April was not entirely pleased about apologising. It didn’t happen often.

‘You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s Thor’s fault, and mine, for not being more careful.’

Later that day, Thor came to see Loki and April. And, well, it wasn’t exactly a nice introduction between Thor and April.

Thor hadn’t been expecting the tiny Midgardian girl to launch at him as soon as he came through the door. She pinned him to the wall and pressed a knife to his throat, her knee was pressed firmly into his crotch too.

‘YOU are the bastard that took Loki away from me.’ She snarled, pushing the blade to pierce his skin.

Loki smirked, arms folded over his chest while he watched.

Thor was wide eyed as he looked from April to Loki. Silently asking for his help. But Loki just looked pleased as punch with his girls work.

‘I had no choice, he stole the tesseract… Again.’ Thor grunted, worried whether she would actually slit his throat if he attempted to move. And the pressure from her knee was really starting to hurt.

Then Odin and Frigga walked in, stopping dead when they saw Thor’s predicament.

‘Loki.’ Frigga said in warning, looking over at him. He was doing his best not to laugh.

But he knew it wouldn’t end well for either of them if he allowed April to kill Thor. As tempting as it was.

‘April, leave him.’ Loki said, trying to keep a straight face.

It had been a while since anyone had got one up on Thor. Especially a human.

April glared at Thor again and pushed the knife a bit harder, making him yelp, before she pulled back and moved to stand next to Loki.

‘He’s not worth the mess he would make all over my rug.’ Loki drawled, smirking at Thor.

‘At least there wouldn’t be much brains to get splattered everywhere.’ April retorted, making Loki throw his head back with laughter.

Thor rubbed his neck and summoned Mjolnir, just in-case. And not happy with their joking. He glared at April and Loki.

‘Loki, this isn’t going to go away until you give up the tesseract.’ Odin said angrily.

‘How many times do I have to tell you all. I do not have it.’ Loki put his arms out at the side.

‘Stop lying, Loki.’ Thor snapped and took a few steps towards him. But April moved on front of Loki, glaring at Thor with her nostrils flaring angrily. Her grip tightening on her knife.

She wasn’t really sure why she was feeling so protective over Loki. She knew he could look after himself, more than she could do. But still, this Thor was pissing her off, big time. Probably the fact that he stole Loki from her too was in her mind.

‘Enough. All of you.’ Frigga demanded, stepping between Thor and April. ‘Leave us be.’ She looked to Thor and Odin, motioning for them to leave with her eyes.

Odin and Thor grumbled but they did as Frigga wanted, leaving her there to speak to Loki and April alone.

April relaxed slightly now that Odin and Thor were gone. But she still wasn’t sure about Frigga, though Loki seemed happy enough with her presence.

‘I must say, it’s nice to see that my son has finally found a woman who clearly cares and adores him.’ She smiled softly.

April’s eyes widened and her cheeks turned a little pink. ‘Pfft. I don’t adore him.’ She said flippantly, turning away to grab a glass of wine from the table by the bed.

Loki half smirked and then looked at his mother.

‘We really have some… business, to attend to on Midgard. I’ve done nothing wrong in years, mother. Please, can’t you speak some sense into those bumbling idiots?’ Loki asked softly, taking Frigga’s hands into his.

‘Loki, you can’t lie to me. I just want to help you, but I can’t if you aren’t truthful with me. Where is it?’

‘Even if I told you, it wouldn’t guarantee my freedom afterwards, would it?’ He took a step back and folded his arms over his chest again.

Frigga sighed. She knew she couldn’t lie to Loki, either. ‘No, it wouldn’t guarantee it.’

Loki’s jaw clenched. He was going to have to figure it out himself with April.

‘Is April free to come and go?’

‘Yes, she is. She hasn’t done anything wrong. But if she pulls anymore stunts like trying to kill the Prince of Asgard, then we might have a little problem.’ Frigga said loud enough for April to hear too, making her roll her eyes.

When Frigga left, Loki stood over April. She was sat on the edge of the bed, eating grapes and drinking the wine.

‘Those are my grapes and my wine.’ Loki growled low.

‘Yeah? I don’t see your name on them.’ April made a point of picking another one and popping it in her mouth, slowly and moaning at the taste. To tease him.

‘Want one?’ She picked up another and held it out towards him. He raised an eyebrow at her, but reached out to take it. April quickly shoved it in her mouth before he got it.

‘Minx.’ Loki moved in on her, using his body to push her backwards on the bed.

Grabbing her hands, he pinned them both down above her and trapped them in one of his hands. Using the other, he gripped her chin and held her in place when he leaned down to kiss her, his tongue delving between her lips to taste the juices from the grapes she’d eaten.

‘Mmm, tasty.’ He purred, smirking.

Using his Seidr to hurry things along by removing their clothes, Loki then positioned himself between her legs. He reached down to touch her, slowly sliding through her folds.

‘You know, it was rather erotic seeing you with that knife to Thor’s throat.’ He grinned and lightly touched her clit, making her gasp.

‘You should’ve let me kill him.’ She grinned wickedly, her breathing started to get deeper from his intimate touches.

Loki chuckled and nibbled on her lower lip, tugging it roughly to make her moan. ‘Tempting as it was, I’d rather you not end up being hung for killing one of the royals.’

He then gave her neck some attention, growling in approval when she tilted her head to the side to give him better access. He could feel her growing more aroused with his two fingers slipping across her folds and then into her with ease. Finding that spot that made her toes curl was easy for him now, knowing her body so well.

April was slightly obsessed with his hands, she loved his fingers. They were so long, always able to get so deep and he was so good with them. Knowing all the right spots to touch.

She was close to coming when he pulled away, making her whine in frustration. But Loki replaced his fingers with his cock, sinking into her with a moan.

After recovering from their round two, they were both sitting on the bed together crossed legged, on front of each other.

‘What happens if you hand over Cubey?’ April asked.

‘Best scenario, they keep me here and don’t allow me to leave. Worst scenario, they lock me up down in the dungeon again. They only moved me up here for your arrival, I don’t know how long it will last.’ Loki sighed.

‘I don’t want to lose you again.’ She said, her lower lip shaking slightly.

‘If I give it up on conditions, we could just stay here. You and I. Or we could go somewhere else.’ Loki said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She shook her head. ‘You know I can’t give up yet, Loki.’ She whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Loki wiped her tear away with his thumb, then cupped her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

‘I know. I just wanted you to know the option is there. But we will do it, together. Then, we will go wherever you wish to.’

April looked up at him as she covered his hand with her own. ‘But how? You just said yourself you’re stuck here on bedroom arrest until you give up Cubey. Even if you made a deal, I doubt you’ll be allowed to leave, will you?’

Loki sighed and looked down briefly. ‘Probably not.’

April fell back on the bed with a groan. She put her hand over her eyes. She felt the bed shift as Loki crawled up to lie down next to her, putting his arm around her to tug her in closely to him.

‘We will find a way. I give you my word.’

‘But then we have to get to Australia, too.’ She sighed.

‘I thought you had a friend who could get us there across waters?’ Loki leaned back slightly to look at her.

She curled herself up into his side, hiding her face. ‘I got there… she’s gone. Or dead.’

Loki chuckled softly and his hand slid down her back to cup her bottom. ‘Didn’t I warn you I would blister your backside if that was the case?’ He teased.

‘Nope. Nothing of the sorts was mentioned.’ April said quickly, scooting out of bed and skipping off into the bathroom.

Loki laughed and lay back, looking up at the roof. How he was going to get them off Asgard in one piece, he wasn’t sure. But he had to come up with something before he was locked up again.

[scroobles]

My Testimony Against Rictus Corporation

At Rictus I was living out my destiny as a Marketing Strategist, refining campaign messages and watching them hit the bullseye right between the eyes of our demographic. The deadlines were tough and I hit most of them at a hairsbreadth but I was tenacious and worked uncompromisingly to get things done. The multiple personality quizzes at the company corroborated this and they were hardly ever wrong, I suppose it was the main reason I was chosen for the post. I was for the most part liked by the office, although looking back its hard to tell what “liked” consisted of. Whether it was a genuine connection or just assumption of mutually shared moral axioms I wasn’t sure. I do not blame my colleagues entirely for this as it was the way in which were trained that dictated much of our behaviour in the office. We all started at the corporate bootcamp. This was set in the welsh borderlands against a hillside with a view of the beautiful foothills, planted with a ring of orchards circulating the property. It looked much more like a Spa than a bootcamp, I suppose that was the point, to start us relaxed and open. I was greeted at reception with soaps, lavender oils, bathrobes and shown upstairs to my personal futon. We were required to stay training for a month in total, which was asking a lot but as I looked at the view from my balcony I knew this was a blessing. The staff there were filled with a joie de vivre and an eagerness to please switched on at all times. Josh was our instructor for the month, he gave off the strong impression of an online fitness instructor rather than a business guru, his charisma was practically a smell, a muscle and a force field. This actually became infectious after a while. He made us run around in the morning as in any bootcamp and we were told physical fitness was a requirement, which non-maintenance of could get you fired. In the afternoons there were open-air presentations called “Transparency Classes”, which we would take sat under the dappling light of the orchard where we talked about the basic principles of business and afterwards moved onto more personal topics. It was clear we were to divulge our past selves, if there was any hesitation in this our instructor would repeat the company mantra “The more in light, the more we make right”. These classes gelled our group together and we became fairly close after the month was through, a closeness comparable to a first year of Uni. After this I was feeling refreshed and ready for the work ahead. We were sent in a busload together to the headquarters, had our checks, our cards, our eyes mapped and were led through the atrium to our Marketing quarters on the 1st floor, through the serpentine interior of the building. I was shown to my own personal Panorama ICE screen, I stroked the plexiglass screen awake, tingling from the power at my fingertips. One of the first projects to come to our sentinel was a market testing project for a new product developed called The Memory Ball. We were invited to test it for ourselves passing the ball to each other in a circle, It was a dull grey oracle, about the size of an easy peeling orange. I felt it in my hand and must have squeezed it as the light began to shine through my palm, I let go of the ball and it hovered there dead still in the air, I thought what a supreme piece of technology! We were given them to carry on our person for a week, as it took that amount of time to prepare your memories to be accessed. I came back from speaking to a test group who were full of bountiful praise for the product, I couldn’t wait to try it for myself. I entered their thoughts into our feedback vortex and headed home with anticipation. Back at my conapt I sat in my living room, unable to wait I began rubbing the ball, it started whirring and suddenly the memories of the preceding week came sputtering into life in holographic grandeur. Memories of the office, of the river from public transport, columns of rain moving across the sky in the distance. These images experienced themselves in front of me, I was only a third party to myself, blissfully apart but yet so near. It was a beautiful experience that would eventually in the end, turn bitter for me.

Society as a whole knows about Rictus and what the end goal of the platform is. Its products all provide a path for you to create an Exo-Soul, this is a perfect simulation of ourselves that can last pristine, stored forever in ether. You must have seen them, if a friend or a colleague hasn’t shown one to you you may have seen them acting in Hollywood films without being aware of it. Achieving a synthetic immortality is the main driving factor for many people’s use of the app, however for some this is only a side-effect of using the app. Creating an Exo-Soul was never my personal goal however, I didn’t really feel comfortable being uploaded into the ether for anyone to access for eternity. I was too self-conscious, even in death I would embarrass myself! For some reason I didn’t ever criticise this nature of the business though, I guess there has been too many socio-technological implosions in our society to even begin to attempt a criticism of this power. Anyway I knew it was a dream marketing tool, it converged our human desires, drew people into the app and gave them the fuel to keep pushing through the program. I had the Marketing excalibur in my hands but I didn’t understand the morality regarding its power. I kept segmenting and strategising, functioning as a consistent worker in the quadrant. The first time I felt that things were changing for the worse was after a seminar we had introducing a new appliance on our Panorama ICE systems. This new appliance allowed us to see the psychological make-up of our users, their names were not included but it provided a sweeping look at the real-time state of their lives in absurd, graphic rendering. As the presentation closed I went back to the lower quadrant to inspect this new function. My hand waved over the title “Pulse Systems” on the ICE , I saw the familiar hexagons slide across the screen but these opened much different information this time. I could access the romantic relationship satisfaction of users scored out of 10 with decimals, the state of users mental health, even the general characteristics of their lived experience, for example whether the texture of their sensory existence was grainy, blurry, black etc. I felt deeply unsettled at the information available to me on my screen and felt the need the share my worries with the others, we were meant to be honest with each other after all. I came into the quadrant mess as my close acquaintances were speaking about their home entertainment systems. I waited for my opportune time and put myself forward “So how’s everyone feeling about these new Pulse systems then? Personally I feel a little afraid of them y’know, seems like we’ve gotten too personal”. The look of puzzlement came across their faces as the collective mastication slowed to a halt. One close acquaintance Mary said “Why do you feel that way? I think this close relationship with our customers is beautiful in way, they can tell us how they are feeling and we can respond to help them, help mould their lives into a better shape”. She used the word closer like it was a relationship between between lovers, a strange word for a Marketing strategist to be using. The others were nodding I couldn’t quite tell if they were being genuine. “Well I just think that this information is nothing to do with us, of course we can track their use of the product but I think the extent of people’s feelings should end at what they think of the product, don’t you think?”. She shifted her position in her seat and said “The people have spoken Sam, they wish us to understand them. We can give people a 360 degree new life, our products can give them a new lease of creativity, an interlocutor for them 24/7, even immortality. The information we gather is inevitable and as you well know Sam, the more in light, the more we make right”. I couldn’t come back to such an entrenched position, I felt myself adrift, filled with a doubt for the people who I have been in the midst of this whole time.

There was a change in my colleagues attitude towards me from then on. A library of poorly hidden distrustful looks answered me, only the most perfunctory conversation greeted me in the corridors. I kept working on my projects continuously burying myself in the work in an attempt to forget. I was hurt by their coldness and retreated further and further into my Memory Ball. In the evenings my living room was graced with memories of many months before. A skyline the colour of blazing peach therapeutically pacified me, the granular vividness was astonishing and I could forever rewind and pause. Even zooming in on the dilated eyes of Pat my co-worker laughing at a crap joke of mine provided me much relief. One night I was working on crunching some reports for a product called “The Philosophers Throne”, which to our surprise became immensely popular with the elderly population. This was a essentially just a toilet but one which engaged you in a philosophical discussion, asking pertinent and paradoxical questions in an attempt to draw a clear line of thinking out of you. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself, you could say hysterically considering I was alone with only the black night outside as a friend. Working at night was always a strange experience, it was like being in a fluorescent desert, there was a buzzing and squeaking in your ears you could never place, was is it in your brain or from some unknown source in the office? I stood back and blinked and feeling my attention pass through the ceiling I made to the water cooler for extra hydration. As the water filled my bottle I saw the light of a monitor in the managers office. This was against company policy so I dutifully went to turn it off. Just before I did something caught my attention. A header titled “How Rictus Challenges can capitalise on information suction from company targets” raised my eyebrows. To explain what Rictus Challenges are if you are unfamiliar with them, they are challenges in which you have to pass to move onto the next level on the app. These levels are Humani, Chrysalist, Exo-Trist, Wizari & Pantheon. If you make it to the pantheon you can have your Exo-Soul released after death, for all the world to see. I Remembered wondering how peculiar and specifically tailored these challenges were before but this all made sense now, I kept on reading. The document detailed how these surveillance Challenges provided actionable information on the company’s “enemies” and helped curtail their movements against Rictus. One example given was a customer who was told that he needed to ascend a hill overlooking a house belonging to a government official and meditate with a Rictus Headset on for two days, which he honourably did. This unearthed valuable evidence against the government official of an affair he was having, which was used to silence him. I was shocked at the use of our customers as vessels to carry out the company’s dirty work, I printed the document and made off with it. Unsure of my own place within the company, even the world, but knowing that I must act in some way.

The next morning my manager entered the office in his usual self-assured manner, clutching his morning Americano. I saw him walk into his office where the exposed monitor was waiting for him. Moments later he came out of his office with a fretful look, like a wolf retreating from a buffalo. He scanned the floor left to right looking for anyone else aware of this information breach, I averted my eyes, seeing this he became just a bit suspicious of me. For a week I tried to time my movements and miss bumping into him, however putting much effort into avoiding people marked me as more suspicious, I suppose I have a terrible capacity for concealing my feelings too. We were told for GDPR reasons we were only aloud inside our own departmental quadrants, I knew this was clearly nonsense, I was planning to explore another level higher up. I knew there was a level some way up called “Central Navigation”, where many of the corporate-wide decisions came from, a lot of our departmental prerogatives had its stamped authority. As I was thinking of this the manager sat himself on my desk, smiling with cold, concerned eyes  “Hey Sam, you seem a little pre-occupied, and I don’t mean with the work. Is there anything you need to tell me?” I responded reflexively “Well nothing really, actually there’s something going on at home” He leaned in sensing a good deal of hesitation in my answer. “That’s interesting Sam, I thought you lived alone?” He smelt blood “Uh yeah, I mean back at home, home. Parents not so well, I need to sort out their healthcare, expensive nowadays isn’t it?” His posture sunk back to its usual state from hearing this excuse, disappointed that his hunch had been incorrect, trusting me even though I was talking like a fridge “Okay as you know our prime value is to be transparent to one another, I truly suggest you speak to our Rictus councillors about this, we don’t want anything happening to you” “Sure” I said, “If this continues you will see them” he reiterated, “Yes, I understand” I said staring into the middle distance, with one desire to find what and who was pulling the strings above me. I knew there were multiple fob entries and no eye scanners, as they were placed on entry to the building. I knew the janitor for the building as I was a frequent late night worker. One evening I accosted him, and gave him a very expensive handshake for his participation in getting me up there. He said for me to be out of there by 9 latest otherwise I would be locked in and that would be the end of us both. The next night I lowered my Janitors cap and made it up to the “Central Navigation” level after getting past the fobs and keypads. I went to clean the toilets first and worked my way around the level. It was a darkly lit area, like an aeroplane cabin at night, I felt watched. I heard somebody coming down the corridor and made my way into the filing annex in an empty office. The shuffling and voices came nearer until I heard them enter the room. It seems the senior employee was surrounded with a coterie of lawyers. He began the address “Welcome gentlemen I have brought you here to discuss the new final clause in the Rictus panopoly. We are seeking your guidance on legal matters, needless to say this is highly confidential information I am about to share, if any of this gets out we will know exactly where the leak is, you can guarantee that”. I was recording with a field mic, he went on “As you have heard we are looking to introduce a new lifetime guarantee for our information subtraction operations. We are looking to build in a Final clause, one that we will vigorously lobby for. We see information as not something attached to a particular person, we see it rather like oxygen, none of us own this substance, not even the breather, therefore it is an open source material. This we feel should be the new basis of our information strategy. Therefore we are looking to introduce a final clause to implement a ceaseless subtraction of our users without any get out” I looked at my recorder I knew I had something groundbreaking. After it finished I waited a while to exit the room, in fact I saw the gentleman further down the hall, I almost saw the question mark rise above his head however an incoming call distracted him from further pursuing his curiosity.

I’m not sure what was driving me towards this new life as a whistleblower, I didn’t question my reasons, it was a course that carved out itself by the magnitude of the information, but maybe there was some reflection missing on my part. Anyway I wanted to strike while the iron was hot, the world couldn’t wait on this information so the next day I left for the Guardian Newspaper headquarters at 90 York Way. I waited at the entrance behind a pillar, I had memorised the names and faces of the main journalists I could trust, I made a note of who was coming and going. I saw one of the journalists exit the revolving doors, I checked my list and almost shouted she’s perfect! I walked from my pillar and accosted her in the street I told her I had a story for her, she seemed hassled by me “I appreciate your willingness to talk but we have official avenues in place for this sort of thing, please follow the process”. “Please you don’t understand” I pleaded “This isn’t your average story, this is about abuse of power, this is about Rictus. This could be a huge groundbreaking story for you, A Guardian exclusive”. She stopped in her tracks, visualising herself carrying the golden torch of freedom up a large hill, appearing on cascades of network interviews, signing book deals. She turned to me discreetly “Okay, meet me tomorrow at the Lebanese restaurant Taste of Beirut, here’s the address, come alone” she gave me a searching look and left, I couldn’t believe this was happening so quickly. I could barely get to sleep that night and drifted into a thin dream. I was awoken later on, not knowing exactly what had stirred me but I sensed there was something wrong in the apartment. I walked out of the bedroom and caught a light illuminating from the office and headed towards it. A strange sight welcomed me as I looked into the office. There was my Memory Ball hovering over my desk, restlessly searching for something, moving like a dragonfly with a sentience I could palpably sense, opening the drawers with its magnetism. The ball suddenly noticed I was in the hallway watching and stopped dead and we locked eyes for a couple seconds. It suddenly lunged towards me with a violence that took me off guard completely, narrowly missing my temple. I scrambled down the hallway to make it to the safety of the bedroom and slammed the door, The Memory Ball came crashing behind me. The conspiracies hit me at once, Have they surrounded the property? Would they kill me? Are the Guardian in on it? I told myself I couldn’t answer these right now and gripped the baseball bat in my hand. I timed opening the door at the exact wrong time when The Memory Ball was attempting to knock it down, it came crashing into my face. I felt my nose break and the hot stifling blood rush into my sinuses. In a pain driven rage I launched myself at the ball with the bat, smashing up lampshades, bookshelves, until I hit it flush and smashed it to pieces. I dropped my bat, collapsed on the floor and cried, my memories were forever gone from me.

I couldn’t sleep, I knew that Rictus were out there aware that I had some information on them, although may not be aware of exactly what. I knew the only way I could get out of this corner was to risk it and get this information out there, that could be my ticket to safety. I got off the Bus after numerous changes in an attempt to shake off any trail. The restaurant was a little walk away, however as I approached there were more and more people suspiciously looking at their phones, at me, back at their phones again, my nerves started to oscillate. As the restaurant came in sight I saw a thicket of people on the pavement, congregating as if waiting for something. They had their headsets over their eyes, one of them recognised me and they all turned to look right dead on. At this point I knew that I too had become part of the Rictus Challenges I had read about earlier. I guessed that their aim was to stop me getting into the restaurant, god knows how this challenge was framed on the app. What could possibly convince them to unknowingly but willingly take part in intimidation tactics? but here there they were on the pavement, as if controlled by a digital tapeworm, arms wide, yelling at me. I wanted to see how far they would go so I decided to run a circle around them, a couple broke off from the group and took chase towards me. At the point I knew that they would not countenance any failure of this challenge. I ran off down the road and kept running for a mile or so and hopped on a bus in the same direction. I was sweaty and petrified, feeling hunted down. I didn’t know who I was surrounded by, Rictus had more power than I had known, how could I have been so naive this whole time, even as their employee? As I was panting with my head resting against the bus window the most disturbing sight started to unravel outside. There were billboards passing with my face and body supplanted on them, unmistakably me. There I was waving from a McDonalds advert, winking from the golden sands of a Thomsons Holidays beach, loosening my tie for the latest Paco Robanne perfume 20ft above. This was unbelievable, what were they trying to achieve with doing this? What was their point? It took a while to calm myself but I saw quite clearly what this was, it was a message “We can make you into anything, be places you never were, at a very unfortunate time for you”, they controlled my own image, they were flaunting this power they had over me, I felt violated. On the way back my image was everywhere surreally laughing back at me. I got back to my conapt and shut myself in.

I arose as if from anaesthetic the next morning, the sky was dusk, dawn was just breaking, the somnambulant sky rolled into existence just as I did. I should be in work I thought but this was out of the question. There was something strange, the sky was different but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I was mored here, but out of a strange compulsion I felt the need to follow my fuzzy curiosity outside. There was something strange with the light, it was hanging too low, I kept on thinking there were clouds over the sun, like there was some permanent dusk inside of the globe. I was unsure what had happened to me in the night. I was looking out for my face in signs but I didn’t see it on anything, the sides of buses still had the the usual faces of satisfied customers. However out of the corner of my eye there was blip, I swore one of the animated store signs lurched towards me. I jumped and thought what the hell was that? But it resumed its normal cheery animation. I kept on with the walk I’m not sure why, something had changed I kept repeating. The buzzing started to rise. I caught the tube and things really began to change. The holograms illuminating the walls glitched disruptively. Cities these days are full of holograms, I never knew just how much they have permeated the city until I ascended out of the tube that day and stood in horror at the demented chorus above me. Adverts were suppurating with iridescent lesions, popping under the pressure. Figures had holes burning out of their abdomens, some screaming drowning in the suffocating cathode seas. I looked at pedestrians as they walked by, but they were in another world. I had come to another plane of existence, one purely curated by Rictus. Every holographic image I came in contact with was sullied, images bleeding into one another with horrifying freedom, from that day onwards no image was pure. Each image, even internal, a memory, a lifeless object, fornicated pointlessly together. The days afterwards preceded with visual intensity but at the same time an amnesia began to descend like impenetrable fog, which made it hard to plan my next movements. I knew I had a problem as the desire to go back into my Memory Ball became all-consuming. At this point I knew that the destruction of the Memory Ball had weakened me fatally. I didn’t know there were any side effects from pure technology but I knew something had left when my memories stored in there, were scattered to the wind.

[imagine-loki]

You owe me, Chapter 23

TITLE: You owe me CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 23 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine after the battle in New York, Odin sent Loki back to Earth without his powers as punishment. SHIELD are after him and he meets a woman who isn’t all she seems at first and she has her own agenda. The two end up teaming up, to help one another. But it’s not quite as plain sailing as they’d hoped. RATING: M

Loki and April lay in bed together, having just had sex after their up and down reunion.

‘How did Thor find you?’ April asked, she was lying with her head on his chest.

‘The person who worked at the reception of the hotel grassed me up. Though I guess I was lucky that it was Thor who came instead of SHIELD.’ He sighed, stroking her back.

‘I’m sorry that I thought you had another girl or something. That you left me on purpose.’ April was not entirely pleased about apologising. It didn’t happen often.

‘You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s Thor’s fault, and mine, for not being more careful.’

Later that day, Thor came to see Loki and April. And, well, it wasn’t exactly a nice introduction between Thor and April.

Thor hadn’t been expecting the tiny Midgardian girl to launch at him as soon as he came through the door. She pinned him to the wall and pressed a knife to his throat, her knee was pressed firmly into his crotch too.

‘YOU are the bastard that took Loki away from me.’ She snarled, pushing the blade to pierce his skin.

Loki smirked, arms folded over his chest while he watched.

Thor was wide eyed as he looked from April to Loki. Silently asking for his help. But Loki just looked pleased as punch with his girls work.

‘I had no choice, he stole the tesseract… Again.’ Thor grunted, worried whether she would actually slit his throat if he attempted to move. And the pressure from her knee was really starting to hurt.

Then Odin and Frigga walked in, stopping dead when they saw Thor’s predicament.

‘Loki.’ Frigga said in warning, looking over at him. He was doing his best not to laugh.

But he knew it wouldn’t end well for either of them if he allowed April to kill Thor. As tempting as it was.

‘April, leave him.’ Loki said, trying to keep a straight face.

It had been a while since anyone had got one up on Thor. Especially a human.

April glared at Thor again and pushed the knife a bit harder, making him yelp, before she pulled back and moved to stand next to Loki.

‘He’s not worth the mess he would make all over my rug.’ Loki drawled, smirking at Thor.

‘At least there wouldn’t be much brains to get splattered everywhere.’ April retorted, making Loki throw his head back with laughter.

Thor rubbed his neck and summoned Mjolnir, just in-case. And not happy with their joking. He glared at April and Loki.

‘Loki, this isn’t going to go away until you give up the tesseract.’ Odin said angrily.

‘How many times do I have to tell you all. I do not have it.’ Loki put his arms out at the side.

‘Stop lying, Loki.’ Thor snapped and took a few steps towards him. But April moved on front of Loki, glaring at Thor with her nostrils flaring angrily. Her grip tightening on her knife.

She wasn’t really sure why she was feeling so protective over Loki. She knew he could look after himself, more than she could do. But still, this Thor was pissing her off, big time. Probably the fact that he stole Loki from her too was in her mind.

‘Enough. All of you.’ Frigga demanded, stepping between Thor and April. ‘Leave us be.’ She looked to Thor and Odin, motioning for them to leave with her eyes.

Odin and Thor grumbled but they did as Frigga wanted, leaving her there to speak to Loki and April alone.

April relaxed slightly now that Odin and Thor were gone. But she still wasn’t sure about Frigga, though Loki seemed happy enough with her presence.

‘I must say, it’s nice to see that my son has finally found a woman who clearly cares and adores him.’ She smiled softly.

April’s eyes widened and her cheeks turned a little pink. ‘Pfft. I don’t adore him.’ She said flippantly, turning away to grab a glass of wine from the table by the bed.

Loki half smirked and then looked at his mother.

‘We really have some… business, to attend to on Midgard. I’ve done nothing wrong in years, mother. Please, can’t you speak some sense into those bumbling idiots?’ Loki asked softly, taking Frigga’s hands into his.

‘Loki, you can’t lie to me. I just want to help you, but I can’t if you aren’t truthful with me. Where is it?’

‘Even if I told you, it wouldn’t guarantee my freedom afterwards, would it?’ He took a step back and folded his arms over his chest again.

Frigga sighed. She knew she couldn’t lie to Loki, either. ‘No, it wouldn’t guarantee it.’

Loki’s jaw clenched. He was going to have to figure it out himself with April.

‘Is April free to come and go?’

‘Yes, she is. She hasn’t done anything wrong. But if she pulls anymore stunts like trying to kill the Prince of Asgard, then we might have a little problem.’ Frigga said loud enough for April to hear too, making her roll her eyes.

When Frigga left, Loki stood over April. She was sat on the edge of the bed, eating grapes and drinking the wine.

‘Those are my grapes and my wine.’ Loki growled low.

‘Yeah? I don’t see your name on them.’ April made a point of picking another one and popping it in her mouth, slowly and moaning at the taste. To tease him.

‘Want one?’ She picked up another and held it out towards him. He raised an eyebrow at her, but reached out to take it. April quickly shoved it in her mouth before he got it.

‘Minx.’ Loki moved in on her, using his body to push her backwards on the bed.

Grabbing her hands, he pinned them both down above her and trapped them in one of his hands. Using the other, he gripped her chin and held her in place when he leaned down to kiss her, his tongue delving between her lips to taste the juices from the grapes she’d eaten.

‘Mmm, tasty.’ He purred, smirking.

Using his Seidr to hurry things along by removing their clothes, Loki then positioned himself between her legs. He reached down to touch her, slowly sliding through her folds.

‘You know, it was rather erotic seeing you with that knife to Thor’s throat.’ He grinned and lightly touched her clit, making her gasp.

‘You should’ve let me kill him.’ She grinned wickedly, her breathing started to get deeper from his intimate touches.

Loki chuckled and nibbled on her lower lip, tugging it roughly to make her moan. ‘Tempting as it was, I’d rather you not end up being hung for killing one of the royals.’

He then gave her neck some attention, growling in approval when she tilted her head to the side to give him better access. He could feel her growing more aroused with his two fingers slipping across her folds and then into her with ease. Finding that spot that made her toes curl was easy for him now, knowing her body so well.

April was slightly obsessed with his hands, she loved his fingers. They were so long, always able to get so deep and he was so good with them. Knowing all the right spots to touch.

She was close to coming when he pulled away, making her whine in frustration. But Loki replaced his fingers with his cock, sinking into her with a moan.

After recovering from their round two, they were both sitting on the bed together crossed legged, on front of each other.

‘What happens if you hand over Cubey?’ April asked.

‘Best scenario, they keep me here and don’t allow me to leave. Worst scenario, they lock me up down in the dungeon again. They only moved me up here for your arrival, I don’t know how long it will last.’ Loki sighed.

‘I don’t want to lose you again.’ She said, her lower lip shaking slightly.

‘If I give it up on conditions, we could just stay here. You and I. Or we could go somewhere else.’ Loki said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She shook her head. ‘You know I can’t give up yet, Loki.’ She whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Loki wiped her tear away with his thumb, then cupped her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

‘I know. I just wanted you to know the option is there. But we will do it, together. Then, we will go wherever you wish to.’

April looked up at him as she covered his hand with her own. ‘But how? You just said yourself you’re stuck here on bedroom arrest until you give up Cubey. Even if you made a deal, I doubt you’ll be allowed to leave, will you?’

Loki sighed and looked down briefly. ‘Probably not.’

April fell back on the bed with a groan. She put her hand over her eyes. She felt the bed shift as Loki crawled up to lie down next to her, putting his arm around her to tug her in closely to him.

‘We will find a way. I give you my word.’

‘But then we have to get to Australia, too.’ She sighed.

‘I thought you had a friend who could get us there across waters?’ Loki leaned back slightly to look at her.

She curled herself up into his side, hiding her face. ‘I got there… she’s gone. Or dead.’

Loki chuckled softly and his hand slid down her back to cup her bottom. ‘Didn’t I warn you I would blister your backside if that was the case?’ He teased.

‘Nope. Nothing of the sorts was mentioned.’ April said quickly, scooting out of bed and skipping off into the bathroom.

Loki laughed and lay back, looking up at the roof. How he was going to get them off Asgard in one piece, he wasn’t sure. But he had to come up with something before he was locked up again.

[thesecondcircleofkel]

Enjoying the View

Kuroiro x Reader (fem!reader) 

1.6K 

Summary: Another winner from the 300 Follower Event (that it took me a decade to get around to). The prompt was “Don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the view” and my summary for it was "He deserves everything, including a NSFW scenario where he gets to indulge in his voyeurism kink, plus overstimulating and teasing the Reader."

Warnings: NSFW, voyeurism, masturbation, overstimulation, teasing, sex toys

As much as Kuroiro loved being a pro hero, he had to admit that patrolling could be rather…dull at times. Whether he was walking down the street or moving through the shadows of alleyways (he definitely preferred the latter since it was a surefire way to ensure that he didn’t get bothered while he was on the job), unless he came across a villain at work, his days could end up being rather monotonous. Today had been one of those days, where time droned on and on without a single villain coming across his path; he supposed that it was a good thing overall, but that positive view of things didn’t do much to keep him entertained.  

He was a little sullen because of his boredom, the indignancy still radiating off of him even as he made his way home for the night. He could only hope that you had made it back from work, as well, lest his boredom continue for too much longer. Your shared home was quiet as he crossed its threshold, much to his dismay, but as he was taking his shoes off, something caught his ear. It was so quiet that he wasn’t sure that it was real at first, but then it came again, the light sound falling on his ears with an air of familiarity. It sounded like it was his lucky day after all.

Kuroiro eagerly followed the noise, the light keening leading him all the way to your shared bedroom, where he found the door ever so slightly cracked. What he saw next sent the most wondrous of shivers down his spine. There you were, laid back on the bed, completely naked with your legs spread wide open as you teased yourself with a vibrator. His mouth watered at the beautiful sight before him, your folds already glistening with your essence as you passed the vibrator through them, never leaving the toy in one place for too long.

You must have missed him, yearning for his touch so desperately, that you would tease yourself like that, trying to mimic the way that he would normally toy with you. As if to further prove his point, you let out a light moan of his name, your hips bucking forward towards the buzzing toy in your hand. You were obviously at your limit, ready to reach your climax as you focused the movements of the vibrator around your clit. You bit your lip as the fire in your belly grew hotter, and Kuroiro finally took the opportunity to slip into the shadows of the bedroom.

He waited until your moans reached a fever pitch and your legs shook from your impending climax. Before you could finally reach the peak that you so desperately needed, he let out a cough that was loud enough to knock you out of your euphoric daze. With a startled jump, the vibrator fell from your hand, and you scrambled to cover yourself up before you noticed that it was your lover stepping out of the shadows.

“Don’t mind me, I was just enjoying the view.”

He stepped closer towards you, the wide, roguish grin never leaving his face as he slowly unzipped his jacket.

“But, as much as I enjoyed what you were doing, I think it’s time I took over here.”

Your heart felt like it was trying to pound out of your chest as Kuroiro pealed the rest of his clothes off, taking his time with each piece just to make you wait for him that much longer. Your body ached for him, especially after being denied its release for so long, and you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together in anticipation as your lover finally stood bare before you, his cock already hard and pulsating with desire for you.

Kuroiro easily pried your legs apart, crawling between them until he finally came face-to-face with you. The room was silent save for your heavy breathing as your lover reached down to grab his throbbing member, sliding it through your folds a few times, coating the head in your essence before lining it up with your soaked entrance. The gasp that you let out as he entered you was the sweetest music to Kuroiro’s ears, and that hushed noise gradually turned into an uninhibited, sinful moan as he slowly eased into you, making it seem like an eternity passed until he finally bottomed out in your aching heat.

You had hoped that he would have some mercy on you since you gave him such a lovely show earlier, but you quickly learned that that wouldn’t be the case. Rather than giving you the immediate, hard, thorough fucking that you wanted, Kuroiro instead grabbed you by the hips, slightly lifting them off of the bed and firmly holding them in place before he lightly ground his hips into yours. Even though he barely thrusted into you with that movement, chills of pure pleasure still shot through you as his pelvis slid right against your clit.

“Were you thinking about me, Y/N? Did you miss me so much that you couldn’t be bothered to wait for me?”

“Shihai, please!”

His grip on your hips tightened at the neediness in your voice, but he kept his control over the situation, still only grinding into you as your hands twisted into the bed sheets at your sides.

“Please what? Let you cum? Only if you tell me what you were thinking about.”

You were so damn close to your orgasm, but your lover was perfectly aware of that, as well, and he held back just enough to make sure that you didn’t go over that peak until you gave him exactly what he wanted. The feeling of him against your clit was so light, just enough to keep you on the edge after being worked up for so long, but not to give you your release.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

“You!”

Your admission was rewarded with a particularly hard grind, but that was all, and he immediately went back to his lighter movements as he waited for you to continue.

“I just…I needed you so badly, Shi. I wanted you inside of me but-but you weren’t here. I swear I tried to wait for you, but I couldn’t handle-”

Your shout of ecstasy echoed through the room as Kuroiro finally put more force behind his grinding, his pace never faltering even as your walls fluttered around his cock, your orgasm washing over you with an intensity that had stars swimming through your vision. He kept going as you rode out your high, and when you futilely tried to pull your hips away from him because his movements were becoming overwhelming, he finally started to pull out of you, giving you an all too brief moment of reprise before he roughly pushed back into you. Your back arched off of the bed, and you desperately reached out for your lover, the pleasure all too much for you since your body hadn’t been given a chance to unwind from your previous brush with bliss.

“Mm, did you really think that I would stop so soon, Y/N?”

His pace was slow, but the force behind his thrusts was almost punishing with how powerful it was. You were so distracted by the feeling of his cock roughly moving in and out of you, that you didn’t notice when one of his hands left your body, your mind only refocusing itself when you heard a familiar buzz start up again. He didn’t even give you the opportunity to beg him not to, instead immediately bringing the vibrator down to your swollen clit after setting it to a low level. Cry after cry left your throat, your whole body shaking from the overwhelming feeling that your lover was giving you, the pleasure of it so intense that it was nearly painful.

Kuroiro stared down at your face, watching as tears formed at the corners of your eyes. You looked so beautiful at that moment, ethereal even, everything about you painting a picture of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. He couldn’t get enough of it, and he doubted that he ever would, not when you were so receptive to his touch, letting him make your body sing with pleasure for however long he wanted to. You had the power to end this whenever you wanted, your relief a single word away, but you held out for his sake, knowing how much he loved to drive you wild before seeing to his own needs.

With his slow, but steady thrusts and the incessant thrum of the vibrator against your clit, it didn’t take you long to reach your second orgasm, and your body scrambled against the bed, begging for some sort of reprieve as whines left your throat. You would have let out a sigh of relief when Kuroiro finally turned the vibrator off, but his thumb immediately took its place, gently brushing against your clit and causing your body to shudder all over again as he continued to thrust into you.

There was a slight increase to his pace, and you thought that maybe, just maybe, he was finally ready to reach his own end, but as you looked at his face, there was a lustful, yet mischievous glint in his eyes that told you that this session was far from over. As if reading your mind, the contemplative look that had taken over his face as he admired his handiwork was replaced by a smirk, and his next statement let you know how right your latter assumption was.

“It would be a shame if I didn’t make the wait worth it, wouldn’t it?”

[apotatomashedbybts]

But You Do...

[GENRE: fluff, angst 

Pairing: Kim Namjoon×Reader (OC) 

Word Count: 2k+ 

Keyword: Pollen allergy

Warning: explicit depictions of verbal abuse ] 

[Summary: Lee, an ordinary girl, with an ordinary wish to have a loving family. But not always all wishes come true, not even the simplest ones. She still has to know that family doesn't always mean the same, it could be a single person too.] 

[A/n: After much procrastinating, here is the first chapter of my spring fic for @njssi ! I tried to make it up to the mark and I hope that you'll like it *fingers crossed*  ] 

Leaning on the windowpane of the moving bus Lee heaved a heavy sigh and looked out at the blurrily passing by night city. She could sense the uneasy yet surprised stares of the other passengers that were directed towards her. Though feeling uncomfortable she didn't care much. If she was in their place she would have been curious and surprised too, to see a constantly sneezing girl in a white knee-length bridesmaid dress, badly messy hair, red face partially covered by a pollution mask and even redder eyes. Glancing for the fifth time in the past hour at the board inside the bus - that said about its current position- she grew impatient, but at this moment she needed to stay as calm as possible otherwise her condition would only get worse and thinking that she tried to calm herself down. She reminded herself that time was only relative - the more you wanted it to pass quickly, it gets slower and the more you wanted it to slow down, the faster it passed. She scoffed to herself as this reminded her of a day almost six years ago. 

"Mom!!" An excited Lee came jumping into the kitchen, "Do you know that time is a relative unit? It works inversely proportional to the speed that you want it to pass! Isn't it amazing?" She was clearly fascinated at the new discovery and wanted to share it with her mom. "And where from did you know that?" Her mom asked while kneading dough because Lee's brother wanted to eat pie that night. Lee's eyes sparkled at the thought that her mom was interested so she replied, "I was watching a movie named Lucy! It's so amazing and I learnt so many things." "So you were wasting your time watching movies? Listen, those bullshit things are never going to help you in your real life! All that matter are your marks! And if you are not studying now then help me with making this pie. All you ever do is waste your time on useless things and pick up bad habits! What am I gonna do with you?" The enthusiasm that Lee brought with her drained at an instant and quickly replying "Sorry mom.." she started helping her, trying hard not to let her tears fall in front of her mother.

The tears that had started to fall at playback of the memory brought her back to reality and she glanced once again at the electrical board, relieved that she had only one more stop, to endure the pain, and the stares.

Getting off the bus she opened the Google Maps to search for any clinics nearby - the sneezing and the itchiness were getting intolerable. To her convenience there was a clinic nearby. At the reception she managed to ask about the doctors for allergies amidst her terrible sneezing. The receptionist looked at her with concern and said, "The doctor's shift is about to close but let me check. Please wait while I make the call." She nodded in agreement and looked away at the posters hanged in there to distract herself while tapping her feet impatiently. "Excuse me!" The receptionist called out after a while. Lee turned her head at that way and pointing to herself asked, "Me?" The receptionist nodded and said, "The doctor is ready to see you. His room is at the very end in the left wing. Please make your left turn at the very first turning of this passage." And pointed towards a long passage ahead. Bowing at the receptionist as a thanks Lee made her way towards the doctor's chamber. She gently knocked at the door and a gentle soothing voice answered, "Please come in. The door is open." As she stepped into the room she could figure out that the doctor had already packed up to close for the day. She was grateful that he agreed to check her up before leaving. He told her to sit down and told her to take the mask off. His soothing expression turned into a worried one as soon as she did what she was told to. He exclaimed, "It seems like you have pollen allergy and you have been holding it for too long! I will give you an antihistamine shot, that'll give you relief." He gave her a gentle smile and went to prepare the shot. Lee looked around while waiting and her eyes landed on the nameplate. "Kim Namjoon" she whispered to herself smiling mildly as she realised the meaning - the name suited his genius looks. "Are you afraid of injections?" He asked after preparing the shot. "Not really. I am used to them." Lee answered and then sneezed loudly. Dr. Kim shook his head slightly and said, "You shouldn't have stayed unchecked for so long. But what's done is done. You will feel better after this." He then applied ethanol at a certain spot on her left arm and pushed the injection. "I'll write you some medicines. Make sure you take them." Saying this he began writing the prescription with concentration. The shot seemed to do its work and her vision was much clearer than before, so she took this opportunity to observe the person sitting in front of her. She couldn't help but gawk at him - she seldom came across such handsome men. Not long after, she discovered his dimples, and noted in her mind that he was not only handsome but cute too, and his long and beautifully shaped fingers became her instant favourite.

After paying the bill, Lee came out of the clinic and sighed heavily thinking, "What now? There's no going back at this point." It had been a long day and she never expected that this day would arrive so soon. Although she was glad, somewhat, that she was finally in Seoul, away from her family but still some things made her sad and she couldn't figure out what those things were. She had been preparing herself for this day subconsciously from many days back, and now she had enough money to stay at a cheap hotel until she found an apartment to rent. She had been giving job interviews secretly online after completing her graduation and she was beyond happy that she got the job in Seoul; pretty far away from her home. As the medicine worked it's way to drive away the temporary sickness, she made her way to get a hotel room. After checking in, she quickly went in for a bath, leaving her luggages on the bed. As she stood under the cold shower, she could feel the whole day's fatigue wash away little by little. Changing into her favourite pajamas, she called in the room service and ordered some cold noodles and fried chicken; she was starving. The food, she thought as she took in the savoury feeling, had always made her feel content and happy. But her mom had always thought quite the opposite of it. According to her, Lee's loving food was a bad habit, just like every other 'bad habits' she had. Whenever her mom scolded her for being hungry frequently and on the other hand constantly asked her younger siblings whether they were hungry or not, it made her tear up always. As she sat down and ate, she remembered that her family had always had dinner together, no matter what happened. Now that she was alone, she kinda missed the noises but didn't mind because it was somewhat peaceful. Once again her mind raced to the past, three months ago, an August evening to be precise. "So when are your results coming out?" Lee's mom asked after putting a piece of boiled carrot in her mouth elegantly while sitting at the dining table. This was the time of the day that Lee dreaded as well as hated the most. Her mom had a strict rule that everyone in the family should have dinner together. If someone was late, everyone had to wait for that person to arrive so that all of them could spend some quality 'family time'. But at this point Lee totally doubted whether she was a part of the family or not and also whether this dinner was actually, as mentioned earlier, a family time or 'criticise-Lee-and-praise-others' hour. "I don't know mom. The university has put up a notice saying that it would be delayed." She replied timidly, measuring every word cautiously, so that her mom wouldn't find anything in those words offensive enough. But it never actually mattered how much caution she put in choosing the words because after all it's her mom and she would always find something to scold her about. "What do you mean by the university has put up a delaying notice? Your university isn't that irresponsible! That's why I admitted you there; for your irresponsible self to get at least a little bit responsible! I bet you haven't checked properly. How can a person be so absentminded? " Her mom sighed loudly and continued, "Or is it the other way around? I think they have already published the result and you are not telling me!" Her mom glared at her. Up until now Lee was swallowing up her words silently because talking back would have only resulted in getting a smack back. But the problem with her was that she had never been good at controlling her rage enough when it came to someone accusing her falsely. Keeping the spoon with a loud clinking sound she rose from her seat and said, half yelling and half holding back her tears, "If you distrust me so much then go to my university tomorrow and see for yourself!" The walk to her room was not easy as her legs felt like concrete, heavy, but she somehow managed to drag herself away. While going back she could hear her mother shouting at her, "How could you talk to me like that? Have you ever seen your sister or brother talk to me like that? You never loved anyone of us! I can sign a bond that one day you are gonna leave us and never look back, ignoring all the responsibilities to your family!" At this she turned back and hoarseness permanent in her voice, she replied, "Of course! Isn't that obvious enough? That's what I am going to do! It's not worth it to live here." A drop of tear trickled down her cheek as she choked back the words "all you ever did was hate me. I was never a good child to you as your other children are!" She slammed her door shut and broke down while sitting and leaning on the door; the tears were unstoppable. She could still hear her mother complaining about her loudly to her sister. To stop the sounds from reaching her ears, she lied down on her bed with a pillow on her ear and cried until the hiccups made her breathing go hazy, until she fell asleep. Lee shook her head to not let the memory dig deeper and decided to stay happy until she finished her food. Turned out that her mom's words became true; she had left her house. She knew that she would do it anyways and she didn't regret it. By the time she wrapped up, it was already midnight and she was sleepy. Not wanting to ruin the still-happy mood she decided to gulp down the medicines and hop into bed as soon as possible. As thought, so was done. Nights like those, where she had just cried wetting her pillow, muffling her voice in it so that the scream couldn't come out because she was tired knowing that no one cared, until she fell asleep, were endless and the most painful moments in her life. But tonight was different and she hoped that the coming nights would be too.

She snuggled closer to the pillow with a faint smile still hung on her lips and drifted off to sleep quite quickly while hoping that tomorrow would be better.

(to be continued...)

[hmel78]

In conversation with Matt Page ...

DREAM THE ELECTRIC SLEEP

In my experiences of ‘new’ music, it’s particularly rare these days to come across an album that makes you stop what you’re doing and listen, just listen; and then listen, and listen again ... This year it has happened to me twice! Whilst not ‘new’ in terms of their formation, Kentucky (USA!) based 3-piece, Matt Page (vocals/guitar), Joey Waters (drums), and Chris Tackett (bass)  - collectively known as ‘DREAM THE ELECTRIC SLEEP’ - are indeed new to the European scene, and what a mark they have made on it with their latest release “BENEATH THE DARK WIDE SKY”. The proof is in the listening!

There’s not a huge amount that we can tell you about these guys that isn’t included in the conversation below, so here’s what went down when I caught up with Matt Page recently ... HR :  Is a “Prog” band from Lexington, Kentucky, something of a rarity?

MP : Yes! We are like a fish out of water in Kentucky! We never actually set out to be a “prog” band, we just wanted to write music that challenged us creatively as well as the listener. There are no doubt prog powerhouse bands like Rush, Pink Floyd and Genesis who have influenced us, but we also love things way outside the bounds of prog. Of course maybe that is why we fit in with the progressive community. It has been a welcoming space for us where we can write the way we want and have an audience that wants to consider those aesthetic decisions.

HR : Who was the founding member, or was it a unanimous decision amongst the 3 of you to form the band?

MP : Joey and I are cousins and we started to play together 20 years ago at the age of 16. We had various projects over the years but things really clicked when we started playing with Chris. He was in a band called Chum when we were younger and Joey and I loved them. We heard he was moving to Lexington and was looking for a band. We reached out and he liked what we were doing so we started playing together. After about a year of writing new material with him (which turned into our first album “Lost and Gone Forever”) we formed ‘Dream the Electric Sleep’.

HR : You’ve been together for a few years now - how difficult has the road been from 2009, to here in 2016 and the release of your 3rd album “Beneath The Dark Wide Sky”?

MP : In terms of our creative path, it has been exhilarating! We have all grown together and reached for the best of what we are capable of.   I am always excited to get in a rehearsal room with Chris and Joey to see what comes.

From a music business and music culture perspective it has been a difficult and lonely road for sure. The music business is a shell of what it used to be. There is a new, wobbly and often-predatory infrastructure that feeds on the dreams of millions of artists who are more than willing to give their time, labour, energy, heart, and soul for free, often losing a lot money in the process. The old music business was brutal for artists but at least there was a structure in place that took risks and funded and developed artists careers. Of course the artists mostly got a raw deal financially speaking. Now the music business is brutal for different reasons. There is a scarcity of resources and everyone involved; labels, agents, managers, bands, clubs, etc are scrambling to stay afloat and keep things moving. I do realize it is easier and cheaper for a band to record an album now and there are so many more ways to connect with fans. The problem is that that it is very difficult to come out on the positive side financially. We have spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to walk the line between being a completely DIY band and a band looking for creative partners to work with. I think we have finally found a kind of balance and have a solid foundation to build from, but it has taken the last 7 years to make that happen!

HR : You looked for a little help outside the band for this release, and it eventually came in the form of producer Nick Raskulinecz (Rush, Foo Fighters ..) - did you end up with the record you envisaged when you cut the demo’s, or is it completely different?

MP : The first day we met Nick it felt like we had known him for years. There is no pretence with Nick. It is all about the work, about digging in together, solving problems, asking questions, trying new things, and really collaborating on making an album. It just didn’t feel like working with a big producer, it felt like working with a master craftsman who was also a partner and friend. He was a pleasure to work with on all fronts. We stayed pretty close to the demos on most songs but Nick did help us refine the overall vision for the album. Some songs we added parts and others we edited parts out. The final album came out better than we actually originally envisioned which was thrilling for us. I remember hearing the final cut of “Headlights” for the first time with Joey and after it was over Joey and both teared up a little. We worked for 20 years to hear our song come out like that and it was overwhelming.

HR : I listen to a lot of new music, but it’s honestly one of only two albums I’ve heard this year that have really made me sit tight and listen - would you care to tell our readers a little more about what they can expect to hear?  

MP : Wow! That is so great to hear!

Like our previous albums, it is thematic and each song fits on the album in an intentional spot so it is an album that works best as a whole in my opinion. I also hope a listener can just listen to the songs as individual works that stand on their own.

I would say that listeners can expect something cinematic sounding. I have always wanted to make films, but these albums really scratch that itch for me so I think I am trying to overlay one desire over another and that is part of the soundscape listeners might pick up on.

HR : There’s a great balance of instrumental and ‘songs’  - who is the main lyricist, and where does the inspiration come from?

MP : I write all the lyrics for the band, and on this album, I was looking at a specific photograph for each song as a starting point. Writing lyrics is a lot like creating a collage. They are small snippets stitched together and overlaid on a musical canvas. The lyrics often shape the way we feel about the sounds and the sounds shape the way the lyrics work. It is really a fascinating process!

I wrote a short synopsis for the album to help explain the overall themes:

“Beneath the Dark Wide Sky” is inspired by photographs taken of the Dust Bowl in the 1930’s by American photographer Dorothea Lange. Lange worked for the United States Works Progress Admiration and hoped her photographs could be used to educate the masses (via photo essays in major news publications and magazines) to the poverty and desperate living conditions of thousands of farming families and migratory workers who lived and worked in the drought-struck American Great Plains. Lange believed photographs had the ability to shine an objective light on issues of social justice and environmental degradation and could be used to persuade and motivate social and political change.

Much of what motivated Dorothea Lange motivates me as the lyricist of the band. How does art inform the way we understand the world we live in and can it motivate us to challenge and change our assumptions? I am not sure there is an easy correlation, but I am very interested in those who try to bridge the gap between art and life.

HR : The album is being released in the USA, and also here in Europe - are there any plans to tour? What would be your ideal schedule - anywhere in the world that you would love to play?

MP : We are really focused on doing a European tour right now and we hope we can make it over this fall. The rock/prog scene is very receptive to the work we do in Europe and we want to be a part of that movement. The US has been OK for us, but it is a huge, disparate market and it is very difficult to find or create an underground movement. We also live in a large state with a small population making it even more difficult to create that synergy.

HR : If you now get a major success for DTES, will you be happy to remain in Lexington?

MP : Yes. The world is so much closer thanks to the internet and it is so much easier to stay in touch with our supporters. Being in Kentucky isn’t ideal for live shows, but as a band we have built a process and structure that supports our creative endeavours and to move that would be very difficult. We think we can find a way to tour more and reach out in that way.

HR : One last question  - I must admit, at first glance, I read “Sleep” as “Sheep”, and my tiny brain fizzed! Who came up with the name of the band, and have you noticed whether or not you’ve coincidentally picked up an influx of Bladerunner fans?

MP : We are used to Sleep and Sheep getting mixed up! It happens more than you might think …

It is funny.

The name doesn’t mean something specific, but rather tries to paint a mood. We had long lists of words we liked and begin putting them together. We put Dream the Electric Sleep together and it sounded like what we wanted to sound like and that is a big reason we went with it. It is open, mysterious and dynamic sounding to us.

We always get asked about Blade Runner, which I think is fine because it is an iconic film that adds to the imagery of the band name, but I can’t say I have noticed a direct crossover.

[jessejackreyes]

Before It’s Too Late Ch: 7  Standards

This took longer than it should have. Sorry for that. But, here it is cause the reaper76 must flow. Also available on  Ao3

Gabriel was nervous. They were an hour out from their return to Zurich. Peru had been hell, but his team pulled through for him, even McCree had gone above and beyond. Their actual target was neutralized and they had avoided further casualties and managed to throw the trail away from Overwatch. All in all things turned out about as well as they could've. But, now he was facing the possibility of spending time with Jack and he was nervous. So he tried one of his tried and true methods for ignoring personal problems, he turned on the news. If he was going to be nervous or upset, he could work to make sure it was about something else.

“Pundits were shocked worldwide as Albrecht Woerner endorses emergency funding and deployment act proposed by Overwatch strike commander Jack Morrison,” That was a series of words that Gabriel had never expected to hear. He was suddenly much more interested in the news.

“If you are just joining us for this, earlier today Albrecht Woerner announced that his support for this new act which would authorize granting extra funding and authority to Overwatch and its strike commander in the case of humanitarian emergencies across the globe,” The woman reporting this seemed as surprised as Gabriel was. “This announcement comes after a long private meeting between the two of them held on Friday which Woerner described as surprisingly productive and reasonable. Jack Morrison has not yet been reached for comment,”

“For anyone unfamiliar with Albrecht Woerner, the man is one of Overwatch’s strongest critics. He is known for his skepticism and sometimes outright hostility to the organization, so his endorsement comes as a huge surprise to most sides of the debate raging over the proposal,”

“Woerner further clarified that the act isn't perfect, but the strike commander was willing to compromise and address his biggest concerns in a satisfactory manner. In addition the act goes into effect for one year, after which it must be ratified again. With these constraints Woerner claims that he is comfortable not only endorsing, but coauthoring the proposal and that he intends to work with the strike commander in an attempt to fix the problems left in the proposal before it is resubmitted for ratification in a year,”

The screen pans out, away from the anchor’s face allowing a second person to join her on screen. He continued speaking instead of her as the camera panned away from the first anchor.

“The proposal in question, a controversial piece that the strike commander has tried to pass in the name of expediency and saving lives throughout the many countries still recovering from the crisis, was expected to fail, despite generally positive reception from the public at large. However, with the measure��s greatest opponent now coauthoring it, it is expected to be ratified quickly and easily,”

Gabriel tuned out as the people on screen attempted to try to figure out what had led to Woerner’s change of heart, what could possibly have happened during that meeting. Gabriel knew what had happened and he was rather shocked to say the least. His mind raced, distracted until he heard the pilot call out the five minute eta. This turn of events had successfully diverted his attention and worry for the last hour or so.

He sent a message to Jack that he would be landing in a few minutes and was surprised when he got an almost immediate response. Jack had taken the rest of the day off and would be waiting in his quarters for Gabriel to show up whenever he was cleaned up and ready. That was simple, he didn't have to wait or anything, just hurry up and get over there in his own time. Not that he was going to take long, waiting just made him more nervous.

He showered, changed his clothes and made it out of his quarters in record time, his destination firmly in mind. He stopped in front of the door to Jack’s quarters. He didn’t know if the code that he had would still work. He hadn’t actually been in here in a long time. It was probably best to knock instead anyway.

His nerves only got worse when no one answered his soft knocking. He repeated it, louder this time, but still no response. The third time he got no response he was starting to worry, unsure of whether or not he should try to call Jack, wait longer or simply let himself in. After another minute or so of indecision he simply input the old code he had used to access Jack’s room, unsure if it would even work.

The door opened to allow him in and he was both relieved and pleased that Jack had not disabled his access to the man’s room. He would have been more pleased if he did not walk into an apparently empty room, there was no Jack to be seen.

“Jack,” He called out softly. “Jack,” He called again, louder this time, when he got no response. That was worrying, he had said that he would be waiting.

He debated briefly on whether or not he should wait here or go looking for Jack. He had already let himself in and wasn’t sure if he should just stroll through the man’s living area like he owned the place. The strike commander’s quarters was basically a small house. A private kitchen, bathroom, living area and bedroom. He decided to check the bedroom rather than wait here for a response. Knocking on the bedroom door, he opened it slowly when he received no response.

“Jack,” He called out again. The room was dark, quiet as he entered. He found a large lump underneath the covers of the large bed that seemed way too big for one person and he knelt down next to it quietly. The body beneath jumped when he gently placed his hand on it. Gabriel was now certain that something was wrong.

“I’m sorry Gabe,” Jack’s voice called out weakly. “I don’t think I'm up for anything right now. Sorry for wasting your time,” Gabriel was too distracted by how broken the voice sounded to enjoy being called Gabe again.

“It's okay Jackie,” Gabriel told him softly, finding his back through the blanket and rubbing it soothingly. “You're never a waste of time,”

Jack didn’t respond, instead devolving into soft sobbing as Gabriel tried to comfort him. He’s not sure how long he sat there trying to reassure the man that things were okay, to calm him down, but he waited with Jack until the sobs died down and his breathing normalized.

“What's wrong?” He finally asked as Jack seemed to finally calm down a bit, eyes still red and tired.

“It's stupid and terrible,” Jack replied quickly, averting his gaze.

“If it's got you feeling like this it's not stupid,” Gabriel replied calmly. “It's okay to feel like this,”

“No it's not Gabe. It's stupid and fucking terrible,”

“Explain it to me then,” A quiet pause. “Is it about Woerner.” Jack’s body froze and Gabriel knew he had hit on the source of the problem. “Okay so it is about him,” Gabriel continued himself when Jack remained silent. “What happened?”

“You know what happened,” Jack insisted, refusing to talk about it himself.

“I have my suspicions at least, but i want to know why you’re upset like this.” Jack was still reluctant to talk. “I know you don't like dirty work like that,”

“That's not it,” Jack interrupted. “Or at least not completely,”

“Talk to me Jackie. Whats wrong?”

“I’m awful.”

“How so?” Gabriel asked softly.

“I’m disgusted at myself for what I did,”

“You think doing something like that makes you a terrible person is that it?”

“Thats not whats wrong,” He replied forcefully. “If I’m disgusted with myself for something like this, what does that mean I think about you?” Jack was nearing tears as he spoke. Gabriel had to actually hold back a laugh. Of course Jack would beat himself up over beating himself up like this.  

“Do you think I’m a terrible person?” Gabriel asked softly. Jack was mortified by the question.

“No Gabe, I don’t.” He practically sobbed out the words.

“Then what's the problem?” Gabriel asked with a shrug.

“How could you not be upset?”

“You hold yourself to an impossible standard Jack. You always have,” Gabriel explained. “And I have never once seen you try to hold others to it, not even me.” Jack didn't seem entirely convinced so Gabriel continued. “Should I be upset? Do you think I’m terrible for the things I do Jack?” He asked again.

“Never Gabe. I could never do what you do,” Jack always managed to turn these things into self flagellation. He wasn’t praising Gabriel as much as he was insulting himself.

“That’s why I’m doing it Jack. I handle what you can’t and you do the same for me?”

“What can’t you handle?” Jack asked.

“If I had to deal with the assholes you deal with trying to take away money and get in the way of me helping people I would probably end up murdering someone,” Jack’s expression softened to one of surprise. “I doubt the strike commander killing Woerner would have gone over well,” That got a soft chuckle out of Jack.

“No, but it would have been perfectly justifiable homicide,”

“I know right?” Gabriel responded, watching as Jack’s face found itself smiling softly. “Come one Jack, get up and let's get you some food,”

“I’m fine Gabe,”

“No you probably haven’t eaten all day,” He held up his hand to stop Jack’s protests before they started. “I know you Jack. Besides, we were supposed to get some food together anyway,”

“I kind of just want to sleep,” Jack replied, averting his gaze.

“You were just going to lie there miserable and wide awake until you had to get up tomorrow morning Jack. I’m not going to let you go through that,” He expected Jack to argue, instead he simply sighed.

“I don’t really have anything to eat right now,”

“No problem. I have a great idea to deal with that,” Gabriel replied excitedly. “but you need to get dressed.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me Jack, you’ll love it,” Jack didn’t argue or sit and study him thoroughly, instead he smiled softly and agreed. Gabe returned the smile at the simple expression of trust. He really did have a great idea.

[letslivelady]

The Interview:  How I Launched My Career in the Wonderful World of Advertising!

At age twenty-six, it was high time I made some decisions.  Could I interview and land an interesting job that had growth potential?   Or should I figure out a way to support myself and go back to college? Did I even know what degree I wanted? Maybe something in law or journalism?

I loved to learn, I just loathed studying and theory.  It seemed so much easier and faster to learn by doing. And, my husband had already shown during our five years of marriage that he was not a reliable means of financial support.

On a Thursday morning in the fall of 1973,  I got ready to hop out of my yellow Pinto to interview for a job that seemed questionable.  The newspaper classified ad asked for an "Enterprising Gal Friday".  That could mean anything! And the word "enterprising" gave me visions of working for sales commissions.   But, I was definitely not going to leave my three-year old son without the assurance of a decent salary.

The banks I interviewed with the week prior, felt a little too corporate and stodgy. I knew in my gut that I would be miserable there. And, that other interview closer to home?  Well, the owner there looked a bit disappointed when I could not muster more enthusiasm for his foam rubber manufacturing business.

Watching people in the city scurrying around, rushing to be on time during the morning rush hour, I wondered if I should run away from the work-a-day rat race. It seemed like a trap. Could I ever come across a great job that was really exciting?

It was Time to Focus

It was time to focus - to think of the interview from the employer's perspective.  In most businesses, performance trumps degrees.   The ability to save or make money for a business is critical.    So, I just hoped I would find a job growth opportunity where I might have the potential to seize the day, learn, and make money for my employer and myself.

Glancing again at the ad, I noticed that it mentioned "secretarial and bookkeeping" which suggested a salaried office job.  So I brushed the donut crumbs from my mouth and off my red dress, and took the elevator to the fifth floor of the Beneficial Bldg. in Wilmington, Delaware. My confidence would have to make up for whatever else I lacked.

I was to interview with Mr. Peterson, President of Enterprise Publishing Company at 1:00pm. Working with the president could have advantages if a career opportunity was really there.

Upon arriving at Suite 509, I found a hand-written note taped to the door.  It read, "I went to play tennis, come in and wait.  Nick"  What the hell is this?  I am paying a babysitter and I am supposed to wait for tennis?  Taking a closer look at the door, I saw three company names:  Enterprise Publishing Co., The Corporation Company and Peterson Advertising Agency.

I opened the door expecting to find a reception desk. Instead, the door opened into a small area not larger than an overgrown walk-in closet.  The area was divided by a partition with the far side facing out a window that offered an angled view of Market Street.

The office area was expensively furnished with solid walnut desks and cadenzas, one slightly larger against the window and the other in the area behind the partition near the entrance door.  The shag carpet looked new. I saw office chairs and a visitors' bench all in cushioned royal blue leather with bright chrome supports.  On the wall of what must be Mr. Peterson's office was a nude, yet tasteful painting.  Another suggestive painting by the same artist decorated what must be the area for Gal Friday.

What Could Studying My Surroundings Tell Me?

My head started swimming with questions.  Is this some kind of bizarre joke?  Am I safe here?  Might I be waiting for an eccentric lunatic?  Could I get out the door quickly if he showed up right now, or would I be trapped?  So, I propped the door open imagining I was on the TV show, Candid Camera.  Is someone looking at what I am doing right now, wondering what my reaction is going to be?  I was looking around the office again for a hidden camera when I noticed a pile of magazines on the walnut credenza next to the custom-colored file cabinet in royal blue with white drawers.

Since the desks were clear of paperwork and there was no other evidence of any business activity, except for two white desk telephones, I decided to look through the magazines.  Soon I found that there was a full-page ad in several of the magazines with a coupon to mail to: Enterprise Publishing Co.  Sure enough, every one of the magazines contained the same ad.

Looking for Clues

So, I studied the heavily copy laden ad for clues.  The ads were selling a book by Ted Nicholas called How to Form a Corporation without a Lawyer for Under $50.  So, the Corporation Co. had to have something to do with the book, perhaps a service company of sorts. And Peterson Advertising Agency? Well, maybe they placed the advertising in the magazine.  But, where were the people who ran these companies?

Then, in strutted Mr. Peterson with a big smile on his face, bright blue-green eyes, and a nice gut tennis racket in one hand.  He seemed relaxed, confident, and well-tanned in his late thirties.  "I see you found my ad, what do you think?” He seemed mildly surprised that I had figured out the basic connection between the companies, and added that the author, Ted Nicholas, was his pen name.

Establishing a Rapport

We hit it off, as the conversation flowed easily or perhaps I came under his charm.  We talked about politics, child-rearing, and tennis in addition to the needs of the business and the job.  Unlike the crazy guy I feared, Mr. Peterson was knowledgeable and very open, a charismatic businessman who wanted only the best for his business.  He made good eye contact, and was an attentive listener.   I sensed that I could learn a great deal should he become my mentor.

Nick explained that independent contractors working for home were conducting the day to day business.  He liked being able to pay for performance, piece work, etc. rather than for time.  But, the nature of the Gal Friday position actually required someone to be on site during business hours and he needed relief from phone inquiries from advertisers and customers.  If hired, I would be his first employee.

Closing the Interview

As the interview was coming to a close, Mr. Peterson looked again at my application and asked:  “Why are you asking for a starting salary that appears to be thirty percent higher than you have ever earned?”   This told me he was interested and maybe even sold, so it might just be a matter of negotiating the salary.  I wanted him to be confident that he would be getting a great deal and look no further.  So, I looked him in the eyes, smiled and said:

"Because I am worth ten times more than I am asking.  And, if after the first month you have any doubt whether I am worth every penny, I will refund my salary and walk away."

The phone rang an hour after I got home.  “Can you start Monday?”  Now, it was up to me to deliver on my guarantee. 

The world has changed tremendously over the last forty years, but there are some things that never change.

Career Shopping and Interview Ideas That Have Stood the Test of Time!

Know your worth and ask for more than you expect. Then, be ready to negotiate.  Study industry salary averages online at sites like Career Trend or PayScale in the area where you will be working.

Evaluate what type of work you are good at, what interests you, and what you will not accept.  What you got a degree in is not always what is best for your life.  If you don't have a clue, take the free test at 16Personalities or visit Erica Sosna'swebsite.

Understand your skills and your limitations, but be ready to find a way to supplement what you don't know.

Learn as much about the company as possible before your interview.  Every business has a website you can study.  Find out who their main competitors are and give yourself a short course on the industry, if need be.  Websites like GlassDoor offer useful feedback from prior employees.  Think about some insightful questions you might ask about the company and the position. The better equipped you are, the more confident you will be.

Listen carefully to find out what goals or benefits the interviewer hopes to achieve with the person who fills this position.  Target that goal before closing the interview

Persevere in the quest! Look for a job you will love - don't settle.   You are bargaining for your precious time - your life!  Don't sell your life too cheaply, or spend it miserable in a career that isn't right for you.  You deserve better!

Featured image:  Lily Tomlin, Interview Magazine, May 1988

[domain-of-friendship-blog]

An Evening of Moonlit Skies

((My entry for Pony Prom 2017, in collaboration with Indigo Skies!))

"Wow, if I thought this place was pretentious before..."

Tank Buster glanced around as he stepped out of the train and onto the platform. The entire city of Canterlot seemed to be more than a little excited to be hosting the prom if the decorations here at the station were anything to go by, but it all struck him as just a bit excessive. His gaze turned to his outfit as he spent a moment fiddling with his bow tie.

"Hey, Tank!"

As a voice called his name, Tank looked up to see a familiar tall pegasus waving at him through the crowd: one Indigo Skies, not only his date but the pony who had convinced him to come in the first place. She seemed to hesitate despite looking excited to see him - was she worried about stepping on her outfit, perhaps? - so he trotted over to meet her.

"Hey, Skies. I - "

Tank stopped halfway through his greeting as he got a proper look at her dress. Despite its simple design, it fit Skies perfectly, giving her the appearance of a finely crafted porcelain doll. "...Wow, you look great!"

Skies' cheeks lit up."T-Thank you... I was worried it wouldn't look right on me," she admitted, turning her attention to Tank's vest and tie. "You look great too! The color works well with your coat."

Tank glanced down at his outfit once again. "You think so? I don't usually wear quite this much blue..." Not sure what else to say, he simply shrugged. "We should probably get moving in any case. The gardens ought to be open by the time we get there."

Skies nodded, taking her position beside her date and smiling warmly. "I'm ready when you are."

Tank's cheeks turned subtly red as a thought struck him. After a moment of awkward hesitation, he slowly lifted a foreleg and held it out, offering it to Skies... who took it happily, placing her own foreleg over his as they began their walk toward the castle.

A few moments passed before either of them spoke, the silence finally broken by Skies. "This should be fun, you think?"

"It'll certainly be interesting, at the very least. I was never all that keen on formal gatherings like this, but... well, let's just say I've been trying a lot of new things recently." Tank rolled his eyes at his own statement before turning back to Skies. "Though sometimes it helps to get a nudge in the right direction," he added with a smirk; their presence at the prom had been more or less her idea, after all.

Skies giggled, meeting Tank's gaze. "Trying new things is better than regretting not trying them at all! At least, that's what I tell my kiddos to get them to try something out of their comfort zone once in a while."

Tank nodded assent. "You don't know what you might be missing if you never try it, right? I mean, I'd draw the line at anything obviously dangerous, but you know."

"Well, of course. They know to ask me, Auntie, or Grandmare about that sort of thing first." Skies sighed. "Then again, you know how kids are; they'll charge headlong into things if they get excited enough..."

Tank shrugged. "I dunno, I think there's something to be said for being bold sometimes. You know..." He paused before continuing, as though for dramatic effect. "...like marching into a dark, timberwolf-infested forest to go picking magic flowers?"

Skies gave Tank a puzzled look. "What do you mean by that?"

Tank quirked an eyebrow. He wasn't sure whether she was being coy, or had somehow already forgotten the incident that had brought them together to begin with... but he quickly shrugged and decided it wasn't important. "Never mind, I guess. In any case, do you know anyone else who's going to be there?"

"Oh, hmm..." Skies searched through her memory for a moment. "I think my ex is going to be here. The last time I spoke to her, she said she'd be wearing something that would 'drop jaws,'" she explained with a shrug.

"Is that so?" Tank quirked an eyebrow, sounding largely unimpressed. "I guess we'll see, then."

"She's really pretty, and she knows how to work all kinds of ponies... in all sorts of ways..." Skies' cheeks turned red again, prompting her to quickly shake her head to clear the thoughts from it and put on a sheepish smile. "Um, anyway! I heard the garden is home to all kinds of plants and animals!"

Tank had to stifle a chuckle at the abrupt change of topic. "Huh, that sounds cool. I doubt we'll get to see much in the way of animals while the prom's going on, though; they probably won't like the noise too much."

Skies' ears folded back. "Oh, that's true..."

Before long, the two found themselves passing by numerous well-dressed unicorns, Canterlot locals presumably going about what business remained before the prom was set to begin.

Skies lowered her head a bit and whispered to Tank. "Looks like the snooty ponies are gonna be really judge-y this evening."

"Ugh, tell me something I don't know." Tank rolled his eyes, making no effort to lower his voice as he shot an annoyed glare at a nearby unicorn looking down his nose at them. "The ponies around here are so stuck-up, I'm surprised the weight of their collective egos hasn't collapsed the mountain by now."

Try as she might to resist, Skies burst out laughing, the sudden noise startling several ponies nearby. Grinning a highly satisfied grin at her amusement, Tank glanced at the unicorn again to find his expression changed to one of great indignation. This was enough to push him over the edge, finally joining in the boisterous laughter. The startled ponies pointed their muzzles in the air and marched off, muttering words like 'uncivilized' under their breath as they went. Tank and Skies paused a moment, grinning at one another as they caught their breath before heading off toward the castle garden once more.

*******

As soon as they'd passed through the ivy-covered gate to the royal garden, Tank glanced curiously around at the festivities. A fancy-looking band played a classical piece from atop a short stage behind a fairly large dance floor at one end, while the other featured long tables covered in enough food to satisfy a small army. Smaller paths led deeper into the gardens from beyond the main area.

"Well, I know what I wanna do first," he declared with a grin.

"Hmm, let me guess..." Skies' gaze swept across the garden, taking in all the finely dressed ponies before she continued. "You wanna eat and then dive deep into the garden to see what might be lurking there, right?"

Tank rubbed his neck with a free hoof. "Am I really that predictable...?"

"Nah, we just think alike is all~" Skies giggled and began tugging Tank toward the buffet. "C'mon, let's grab some food before the good stuff is all gone!"

Tank trotted alongside Skies over to the buffet tables. All the food looked exquisite, making it difficult for him to decide where to start, but he soon settled on gently plucking a small sandwich from a nearby plate and lifting it to eye level for a closer look. "Is that... cucumber and watermelon? That's... unorthodox. Well, nothing ventured..." He took a hearty bite, eyebrows raising as he chewed. "Huh, that's better than I was expecting."

Skies slowly traveled the length of the table, equally plagued by indecision. Distracted as she was, she hadn't noticed the well-dressed unicorn sampling a glass of juice near the far end until she'd already bumped into him.

"Oops! I'm so sorry!"

The unicorn turned to face Skies, the juice glass held aloft in his magic entirely unharmed. "No worries at all, my dear! No harm, no foul, as it were." He took a sip from the glass, his monocle-clad eye quickly scanning her up and down. "Say, if I might ask... by any chance, was your dress designed by a Miss Rarity?"

It was then that Tank caught up to the two, quirking an eyebrow at the stallion's inquiry. "Actually, yeah. We got it from Carousel Boutique in Ponyville. How'd you guess?"

"Why, I'd recognize her impeccable work anywhere!" the unicorn boasted. "She has the most exquisite style, her dresses simultaneously standing out in their own right and enhancing a pony's natural beauty... and you do wear it very well, my dear." He took another gentle sip of juice. "But do forgive my interruption! I should be off; ponies to meet and sights to see, after all!" With that, he nodded and wandered off in the direction of a small crowd now giving Skies and Tank quizzical looks.

Tank's brow furrowed. "Well, that was... a better reception than we got on the way through town, at least."

"I - I suppose so..." Skies' ears folded back and her cheeks turned red as she began fidgeting uncomfortably.

Tank tilted his head, his expression softening. "Uh... you alright over there, hon?"

"I'm fine..." Skies' face had regained its usual color, though the smile she now wore looked... strained. "Um, I saw some chocolate-covered strawberries over at the other end that looked good."

Tank hesitated for a moment. Though he hadn't known her for very long yet, he had already figured out just how bad Skies was at masking her feelings... but prying into the matter sounded like a less than stellar idea even if there hadn't been a crowd nearby. Whatever was bothering her, it seemed best all around to leave it be for now and let her decide to open up on her own.

"Ooh, that sounds good," he finally decided. "Where'd you see that?"

Skies wiped her eye with a foreleg before pointing it at the far end of the tables, her smile now looking much more sincere. "Over by the fruit bouquet and chocolate fountains."

Tank's eyes widened as he followed along. "Wait, chocolate fountains? How did I miss that? Please tell me they have marshmallows too."

"You probably missed them because they're not all chocolate!" With a giggle, Skies came to a stop in front of a series of fountains, each one's contents a different color and flanked by platters covered in various fruits and confections.

Tank walked slowly along the row of fountains. "Chocolate, strawberry, caramel..." He stopped to sniff at one containing a thick yellow syrup. "Is that... banana?" Plucking a wooden skewer from the table, he speared a marshmallow from a nearby bowl and coated it in the yellow syrup before moving the skewer to his hooves to eat his treat. "...Yef."

"See? Not just chocolate!" Skies deftly grasped a skewer of her own with her wing and used it to dip a strawberry under the flow of chocolate. Satisfied with its hefty coating, she popped it into her mouth and chewed happily, oblivious to the chocolate it had left on her lips.

"Well this is redundant," Tank declared, staring at his strawberry-coated strawberry before chowing down. "But delicious~" He glanced over at Skies, noticing the mess around her mouth. "Hey, uh. You got a little right here," he warned, pointing his hoof at his own muzzle.

"Oh, dear... you're always such a mess, aren't you?"

A tall, stunning gray unicorn clad in a beautiful glittering gown approached Skies, stopping only once their faces were scant inches apart. She glanced over at Tank for barely a moment, only long enough to give him a devious smirk before turning back toward the pegasus before her. "Let me get that for you, sweetie..." Before Skies could react, she found the mare's lips pressed against hers.

Skies hesitated for a moment before finally pulling back and shielding her mouth with her foreleg. "Winter Snowfrost! Stop being weird in front of my date!"

Tank stared at the strange mare blankly. "That... certainly was a thing that just happened." Still facing the unicorn, he glanced over at Skies. "I'm getting the sneaking suspicion we just found your ex."

Winter directed her smirk at Tank once again. "Of course it did, darling. Who wouldn't want to smooch such a beautiful bird? Ah, but I miss when we used to - "

"WINTER!" Skies snarled, her wings flared reflexively. "I know you like teasing, but will you please not bring up our past in front of a bunch of strangers?!"

Tank's eyes went wide as dinner plates. He'd never seen Skies this genuinely angry before; this situation needed de-escalating, now. Straightening up, he stepped forward and stood beside her, looking Winter square in the eye. "Alright, I've seen enough. If you're only here to cause trouble, I think you need to step off."

"Oh, my Skies... I do believe you've found yourself a good one." With a glow of her horn, Winter floated a napkin over to Skies. "I'll talk to you later, my dear; you know where to find me. Do let me know if he gives you any trouble," she added, giving Tank one last glare before turning up her nose and trotting off to mingle.

"Wow, I couldn't possibly imagine why you two broke up." Tank rolled his eyes before turning back to Skies. "I see what you meant before though... You okay?"

Skies finished wiping the chocolate from her face and tossed the napkin in a nearby trash can. After several seconds of silence, she finally spoke up. "Can we go for a walk?"

Tank nodded. "Sure."

The two made for one of the paths that led deeper into the garden, stopping only once they were out of earshot of any other ponies.

"I'm sorry about her." Skies glanced over her shoulder at the path behind them as she spoke, as though expecting the unicorn to appear behind her once again. "She tends to get extra flirty with me whenever she sees me with somepony else. She means well... I think... but she gets carried away really easily."

"If you say so." Tank took a seat beside a rose bush. "Sorry if I got too aggressive back there."

"It's fine... I was pretty guilty of that too." Skies sat down beside Tank, her eyes fixed on the flowers. "The roses are really pretty in the moonlight..."

Tank craned his neck, looking skyward. "Yeah. I love these bright moonlit nights; everything is familiar and different at the same time... It almost feels like walking through a dream, you know?"

"A dream you never want to end," Skies added.

"Well, maybe." Tank looked over at Skies. "But if good things lasted forever, then they wouldn't mean anything anymore, would they? Being rare and fleeting is part of what makes them special."

For a moment, Skies' only response was to continue staring at the roses. "Um... Tank?"

Tank tilted his head. "Hm?"

Skies turned away, ears flattening against her head. "I'm sorry for... asking you to ask me to prom."

Tank spent a moment staring incredulously at her before responding. "...Uh. Why?"

Skies took a deep breath. "I dunno, I just... feel like I forced you to bring me is all."

Tank put a hoof on Skies' shoulder and smiled softly. "Hon, trust me - if I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be. You have nothing to apologize for." He retracted his hoof and used it to rub his neck instead, his smile fading. "I'm... sorry if this is because I haven't been a very good date. Like I said before, I don't usually do this sort of thing very often."

"Aw... you're a fine date." Skies lowered her head, resting it gently on Tank's shoulder. "You're more fun than most of the dates I've had before. I don't think I'd have even enjoyed being here tonight if not for you."

Tank rested his head atop Skies'. "I guess we're just being a couple of worrywarts then, huh?"

Skies smiled. "Hehe... I guess we are."

click!

A sudden camera flash startled both ponies, soon followed by the head and shoulders of a strange-looking earth pony wearing pink-tinted sunglasses popping out of a nearby bush. "Zat is perfect!" she declared before leaping from her hiding place and galloping down the path, out of sight in a blink.

"What the - ?!" Tank straightened up reflexively, eyes darting this way and that before fixing on the path down which the clandestine photographer had retreated. "Wh... Did I consent to that?"

"Oh, I think that was Photo Finish... She's probably just taking pictures of outfits she likes." Skies stretched a little as she sat up, idly scratching her ear. "I wouldn't worry about it. She might not even publish it, since we're common folk and all."

"...Hmm. I'm wondering if I should've read the fine print on my ticket a little more closely..." Tank shrugged. "Oh well, it's not a big deal. Probably."

Skies' smile finally returned in full. "Wanna stay here, or walk around some more?"

Tank stood up. "Why don't we check out the rest of the garden while we're here? I don't imagine we'll get the chance to see it again anytime soon."

"Okay. Let's go then!" Hopping up on all fours, Skies led the way as she and Tank delved deeper into the royal garden.

[laurajanecostello]

If one in four people have a mental health problem at some point in their lifetime, it should be something we can openly talk about without fear or ridicule, yes?

1 in 4 means approx 25 in 100, 250 in 1000 and so on. It means most families or workplaces will have someone who has suffered or is suffering with some degree of mental illness. It means in the UK, there are approximately 16.28 million people with a mental health issue, and 2.17 million in London.

So, why can’t we talk about it?

I spoke recently about the kerfuffle I was having in getting a firm offer for my new job. You can find that post here. When I last posted, I had been referred to a doctor from the occupational health nurse, because she wasn’t sure whether to give me clearance or not.

So, I met with the doctor last week. She was lovely and actually listened to what I was saying. She agreed that although my condition has peaks and troughs (as most mental illnesses do), it is well managed and I am very much aware of my own triggers and deterioration in my own condition. We also agreed that I know the importance of seeking help and when to do so. Consequently, she said she would be clearing me to start the position.

Based on my assessment today, there are no medical contraindications to prevent Ms “MamaEden&Me” from undertaking this position

Excellent, right? I thought so. When I was given my conditional offer, the conditions were that I could prove any relevant professional registrations (which was not applicable as I have none that apply to this job) and that if I had a health condition or disability, Occupational Health gave me clearance to start the role. Simple. The above is pretty much as clear as it gets. the MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL says I’m good to go.

Yesterday I emailed HR from home to ask when my firm offer would be with me, seeing as I have now received the clearance that we had been waiting for. A medical professional says I’m fit, so that must be it, right? Well, I didn’t hear anything from HR, but later in the day I received a voice message on my phone from the new job. A sort of “can you call me back?” type message.

I rang straight back. Basically they had called to make sure I knew what the job entailed and that it would be busy and there would be twelve hour shifts. This was not the person who interviewed me, so I told her that I used to take 999 calls for the ambulance service. I’ve done night shifts before. I’ve done twelve hour shifts before. This is old hat, really. Never mind the fact that the job is a band two reception role – no doubt it has its stressors but I’m not exactly applying to be CEO of the world, if you know what I mean? I work in a reception role currently, I know the workplace systems and such. I have some idea of at least the layout of the department because I had my baby there. It’s a new job, but it’s not “that” new really.

There were concerns raised. Concerns that I might relapse. I had six weeks off at the start of the year (after having no time off with it in the last three years…). What the doctor said in her letter was that good stress management in the workplace (which is something being fostered here anyway at the moment) would hopefully reduce the risk of relapse, but she cannot guarantee that I won’t relapse.

While I am hopeful that this may help reduce the risk of relapse of her condition, I cannot fully rule out the possibility of future relapses

The thing I struggle to understand about this is MOST health conditions have a relapse risk. If I had diabetes and my condition was well managed at present, there is still no guarantee of no future worsening. There’s no guarantee I won’t fall and break my leg tomorrow and require time off. This is what happens when you employ human beings – sometimes we need time off for various unavoidable things. I think what the doctor said is perfectly reasonable, but apparently this is a sticking point to the new dept who seem to think that I will cost them time and money if I relapse.

One thing that is on my side, is that the letter from the doctor also states this…

The nature of her condition in my opinion likely falls under the disability provisions of the Equality Act which would require consideration of reasonable adjustments within the context of her work.

So, although it has been stated in the letter that I do not need reasonable adjustments presently, it has brought up the good old Equality Act. I’m hoping that will offer me some protection, because I’m 99.9% sure that if they withdraw their conditional job offer at this point, that would discrimate against me as a disabled person.

After our conversation, the new job person then said they are off for a few days, but will discuss with their manager when they return and they will give me a call on Monday. Which is almost a week away. Ironically, guess what this is doing to my anxiety levels?

I was made to promise that I wouldn’t worry about this, but it’s very hard not to worry when the chance of the offer being withdrawn is mentioned and there are quite so many questions about exactly what kind of inconvenience your disability will cause. This may not have been how it was intended, but it is certainly how it is coming across presently. Before the occupational health report, we were talking training dates and notice periods. Now? We’re “I’ll have to talk to my manager” and “Give me until Monday to get back to you”. I don’t know. Something just doesn’t feel right.

Apart from anything, I just really want this job. I really need to get out of my current job and I want something new. If I didn’t feel I could do it, I wouldn’t have applied and jumped through all the hoops so far. I certainly would not have accepted the job when it was offered to me. It’s been six weeks now. I should have been two weeks into my new job. I’ve wanted to work in maternity for some time and the fact that it’s almost in my hands and could be snatched away at the last minute is soul destroying.

So, what have we learned from this? Lie. Tick no. Don’t be open and honest, because that doesn’t go in your favour. If you’re disabled, shut up and pretend that you’re not. Or even better, don’t be disabled. Essentially this.

Honestly, how can we foster an open dialogue about mental health when this happens? People question why there is a stigma. Just read the above and you’ll understand. By this point, my health condition is just a part of me. It has been for six years now. It’s part of the jigsaw pieces that make up Laura.

I’ll post an update when I have one. Please keep fingers crossed that I’ll actually get to start the job that I was so excited about starting!

[notgonnarememberthis]

The Lying Angel - Chapter 2

The reception of this fic was so wonderful! Thank you guys so much! I plan on writing this fic to completion but I have no prediction of how long it will be just yet. Just stick with me and we’ll see where this road takes us! Enjoy!

The cab ride was eerily silent besides the incessant tapping of the sole of Sherlock’s shoe as he bounced his leg. It was like that the entire way to the airport where apparently Dylan had a plane waiting. Sherlock made quite a show of taking an opposite end of the plane as the two women made their way into the cockpit. Joan sits herself in the copilot’s seat securing all of the necessary equipment on herself.

“Still remember how to fly?” Dylan teases lightly in an attempt to ease the tension in the air.

“Like riding a bike.” Joan quips back automatically. They fall into a steady rhythm setting up for flight. It was like they’d never separated…

“So… Who’s the guy?” Dylan’s flipped on autopilot spinning around to face her. Not good.

“He’s my co-worker.” A pointed look brings Joan to roll her eyes. “I met him a few months after I left. I became a sober companion and his father called me. Now we work as private investigators for the NYPD.”

“You’ve never liked local police.”

“Marcus and Gregson are different. They’re good.”

“And who are they?” Joan glares at the woman.

“Oh come on! Far as I know, you’re the only angel not in a relationship. I gotta maintain some of my sanity in this whole mess.” Dylan frowns.

“You’re in a steady relationship with someone who’s not a bad guy?” She smirks.

“Turns out all I needed was a good girl to balance it out.” Her head snaps around quickly staring at the redhead next to her.

“How long?”

“About 2 years now. I met her while on a case in Hawaii. She moved to Washington when she got put on witness protection. Guess we had something in common.” The smile on her lips is brighter than Joan’s seen in awhile. She reaches over squeezing her friend��s hand.

“I’m happy for you Dylan. I hope I get to meet her.”

“I hope so.” She grins. “Cause now that I’ve found you, I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

“I count on it.” Joan laughs. Dylan sighs shifting in her seat uncomfortably. She knows what’s coming. “No.”

“Alex… We need to talk about what happened.”

“No we don’t.” She insists.

“It’s not your fault.”

“We’re not talking about this.” Joan pushes.

“Why are you pushing me away again? It’s been five years.”

“I’m not talking about this now.” She sighs pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes trying to will the image away.

“Does he know?”

“Barely.” Joan sighs. “He thinks I was a surgeon. I already had my medical license so it wasn’t hard to keep up with the lie.”

“I mean your dad did for how long?”

“Seven years.” She smiles slightly at the memory. “Sherlock couldn’t know what I did. I didn’t want him ever to. That’s why I used an alias for my name. I created Alex so the people around me wouldn’t get hurt because of me. Now look where we are.”

“You should really talk to him.”

“And say what?” She scoffs. “I’m sorry I’ve known you for five years and you had no idea I was an American spy for a guy whose face I’ve never seen. I’m sorry I let you believe you were teaching me how to defend myself when I know seven different ways how to kill a man with nothing more than a paperclip and a piece of string.”

“Hey you have to admit that was a fun op.” Dylan laughs for a second. “I see what you mean though.”

“Sherlock isn’t the same as anyone else. His ex kind of turned out to be a crazy murderer he was hunting for nearly a year. He discovered this years after she faked her own murder.”

“Whoa.”

“I’ve ruined it all.”

“Joan… go talk to him. It’ll be rough but he cares about you. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been that hurt by the truth.”

“Don’t call me Joan. That’s weird.” Dylan laughs shortly. “You can still call me Alex.”

“Okay Alex. Go.”

“Thanks…”

“Anytime.”

She finds Sherlock sitting at the back of the plan computer opened in front of him, no doubt with hundreds of articles opened being read in less than five seconds each. He hears her approaching, she can see it in the twitch of his muscles. Not sure whether to remain still or to run. Joan takes the place across from him. His eyes flicker up to her with doubt filling them.

“What do you want to know?” This catches his attention. He closes his laptop meeting her eyes now.

“Why?”

“I didn’t want anyone to be hurt. The only time I was Alex was around Dylan, Nat, and a few choice boyfriends I met on assignments.”

“I could’ve handled it.”

“I couldn’t.” He frowns in confusion now. “I did kill that man. He didn’t die on my table though. Nat and Dylan were chasing down a man that had planned an attack on a senator. I was guarding him… I spotted the man and he was about to take the shot. So I took mine… I missed.”

“Watson…”

“I hit a civilian. He was just walking to work, that’s it. Completely innocent and I killed him.”

“Joan.”

“You have every right to be angry Sherlock. I hope you’ll forgive me one day.” She whispers just barely loud enough for him to hear.

He shifts in his seat uncomfortably, not fond of emotional moments. “I am angry. I thought you trusted me as I do you.” She could feel his eyes on her, analyzing her. It’s painful but she deserves it. “I wish you’d have told me sooner rather than finding out this way.” He grabs her hand snatching her eyes to his once more when she could no longer take the disappointment filling them. “I only wish for you to be honest with me Watson. We are partners are we not?”

“We are.”

“Very well. Now I would like to hear about the time some mysterious women saved Mount Rushmore.” He says with a raised eyebrow. A tiny smile etches at her lips. It wasn’t forgiveness. Not yet. Rather a desire to learn more. To learn the truth.

“As you wish.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They landed in a field somewhere in Georgia. The landing strip was relatively abandoned amongst the expanse of plants around them aside from a lonesome building at the edge of it.

“I’ve got a car waiting for us inside the garage. Follow me.” Dylan explains leading the way. The silence was more comfortable than before but still unbearing. Dread mixed with a little bit of fear filled both of the women as they inched closer to the city.

Joan spies the blonde as they pull up on the street. She’s standing outside alone with her arms wrapped around herself in some way of self protection. She has to keep herself from launching out of the car as soon as they slow down. Once she’s positive they’ve come to a stop she’s running out to comfort her friend.

“Nat.” She whispers wrapping her in a fierce hug.

“Alex.” The other woman mumbles back burying her face in her shoulder. As she pulls back she can see Natalie’s eyes are red rimmed from tears, her nose bright against the sun as well.

“Where’s Pete?”

“Inside talking to his parents. I insisted that he go and stay with them until we’re sure it’s safe.” She nods understanding. Suddenly the woman’s eyes grow hard and her stance defensive as her gaze falls behind her. “Who’s that?”

She spins around and sure enough Sherlock is already combing through the yard looking for evidence of footprints or a struggle. Leave it to him not even to introduce himself. “That’s Sherlock Holmes. He’s my partner.”

“Partner?” Natalie’s eyes go wide before falling to her hands.

“Not like that.”

“Mhm.” Dylan hums from behind her earning an elbow to the gut. “Ow. Play nice.”

“Wait.” Natalie freezes. “The Sherlock Holmes? Like best private investigator in New York Sherlock Holmes?”

“And Joan Watson.” Dylan teases bumping hips with her.

“You’re Joan Watson!?” Natalie laughs momentarily forgetting the situation at hand. “I should have figured one of the two best detectives in New York was my little miss overachiever.”

“Stop.” Joan mutters as her cheeks flush red. “We’re here to help however we can.”

“Right.” The joy disappears from her face as she leads them all inside. Pete is pacing in the kitchen on the phone and Natalie goes ahead and leads them up the stairs. The house looks relatively untouched. No pictures out of line, no empty spots where an item once was.

The creek of the door snaps Joan out of her thoughts as Natalie leads them to Charlie’s room. Joan takes her hand for support as she guides them inside. Surely enough the struggle is the most evident inside. The curtains are torn down in front of the open window, toys scattered across the floor. The only comfort she could find was that there was no evidence of blood anywhere.

The message written into the walls is even more ominous in person than the photos Dylan had shown her. As if instinctively, Sherlock passes her a pair of gloves and plastic bags. She’s not sure how much evidence they’ll find but it won’t hurt to try.

“Mrs…”

“Cook.”

“Ah yes. Mrs. Cook, did Charlie express worries about previous encounters with anyone? Someone may have come up to him in the street? Perhaps at school?”

“No. Nothing.”

“Did Charlie act strange before his disappearance?”

“No.” Their voices fade as Joan steps into the hall to investigate herself. As she’s making her way through she spies a set of photos on a desk at the far side of the room. Natalie has her arms wrapped around Charlie as they saddle a horse together. In another, Dylan has her arm wrapped around the back of a tanned woman with a wavy hair. Come and see us soon. -Dylan and Nomi, was inscribed into the frame. Next, a photo of herself from before they left sipping a cup of tea by the fireplace. A chill runs down her spine at the last photo, however. It was from they went to the beach with Bosley all those years ago. The three of them had their arms wrapped around each other with the sea in the background. However, their faces had been x-ed out. On the back of the frame was a message carved with a knife.

All the angels will fall and join us mortals in their descent.