#good morning. the lady who yells at her dogs in my neighborhood every morning is back at it again

[spidermanifested]

people will be so. Close. To understanding the point of that drawing. and then jjst go. well i bet when op drew this picture it just simply slipped their mind that scar yoki marcoh and mei all have this dynamic in canon already. i bet they put greed and bido in there for no reason at all. completely unrelated to anything else

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

What Fresh Hell?: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fluff and angst, talk of child pornography, talk of sexual abuse with children

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

Billie’s father is seen parking in the driveway, and even from where you’re at, you can feel how angry he is. He turns this whole blue energy of the house into a light purple. Both red and blue mix to create a whole mess of emotions. He’s not right in the head either, but that’s clearly not going to stop him from marching in here. As soon as he does, him and Billie’s mother just go at it.

“I have been calling you all night!” she yells.

“I'm sorry, Marilyn. I turned my phone off.”

“How could you turn your phone off? What if Billie got sick or—we needed you!”

“I said I was sorry!” he groans.

She slaps his arm and gives an angry scoff. She turns away and leaves the room. Thankfully, William stays put to give her time to cool off.

“What's being done to find my daughter?”

“We're assessing that right now,” you answer.

“She's been missing since yesterday! What the hell have you people been doing since then?!”

“Where have you been, Mr. Copeland?” Gideon wonders.

“Me?”

“Where were you all day and all night?”

“I have a cabin in Brandywine Valley,” he says, but that doesn’t tell you where he’s been this entire time.

“The police tried you there.”

“Well, maybe I was out at the time.”

“Billie tried your cell phone yesterday afternoon. You didn’t answer then,” you comment.

“Well, I shut it off sometimes. I like the solitude.”

“You didn't fight your wife for custody of your daughter, but you like being in her life,” Gideon rattles off the facts.

He wants to make him nervous. It’s working.

“I want her to grow up in her home with her friends around. This is the only place she's ever lived.”

“So, you love her very much.”

“Yes.”

“Why do you waste any precious time we have left?” Gideon sighs and cuts to the chase for this is taking too long. “You weren't at your cabin. You weren't at work or with friends. Police didn't call us until a little while ago because they thought your daughter might have been with you—that you might have taken your daughter. Until you can give us a satisfactory accounting of your whereabouts from the time your daughter went missing until—would you help me understand why a devoted father who talks to his daughter every night suddenly turns his phone off and disappears for almost twenty-four hours?”

“I was… busy,” he hesitates.

“It was 1:30 in the afternoon. You called your wife at 11:30 that morning and found out Billie was missing.”

“So?”

“Well, Brandywine Valley is fifteen minutes away. Where were you, Mr. Copeland?”

William knows he’s been caught, so he chooses the right option to tell the truth. He sighs heavily and sits down with a long and tired look on his face.

“I—I was at Sloane Kettering hospital in New York City. Dr. Baylan Mahal is the head of Oncology. You can call him if you want.”

“I will. Did you have a relapse?”

“It's in my lymph nodes now. There's nothing more they can—” he cuts himself off. “Please find my daughter. Find my daughter.”

“Call Sloane Kettering,” Gideon instructs of you.

“Yes sir,” you say, already taking out your phone.

The bad news is that Sloane Kettering vouched for William, confirming he was with them the entire day with proof through cameras as well as the sign in sheet. If he didn’t take his own daughter, then that means it really is a stranger abduction—most likely. The good news is that Derek, Elle, and Hotch did have something when they returned from the park. You didn’t want to upset the parents even more, so you had a small meeting on their lawn as soon as they arrived.

“What do we know?” Gideon asks as he jogs up to the rest of the group.

“We talked to a kid who had contact with the unsub. He came back to the same street more than once,” Hotch informs.

“Well that tells us he's at ease in the neighborhood—comfortable talking to kids in plain view,” you fit the pieces together.

“He lured Billie with a story about a lost dog.”

“She recently lost one of her own.”

“That indicates previous knowledge of the victim,” Spencer says.

“But it doesn't necessarily mean that she knew him personally. This only means he's aware,” you counteract.

“Actually, it's not uncommon for predators like these to know the kids that live around his area. He’s from this neighborhood.”

“Then we go door to door and ask for voluntary searchers,” Detective Russet speaks up.

“The neighborhood is already crawling with uniforms. They're everywhere. Having more searchers is only going to make the man who did this go into hiding,” you point out.

“So far, you followed the child abduction response plan to the letter,” Gideon trails off.

“For the past few hours, yes,” the detective nods.

“So now we need to move past the guidelines and change tactics. If we don't, Billie isn't gonna make it past the next twenty-four hours. I want you to corral these clowns,” Gideon points to all of the news cameras. “We're gonna need 'em—all of 'em.”

Before you can deal with the press, it’s about time to give the profile. Usually, you’d have more time to put one together, but Billie is very high risk. If you don’t put one out now, she could die sooner rather than later. Every single cop that’s around this area is in one room, listening to your team give the profile. Each and every one of them are listening intently, taking down notes as you go along.

“Billie Copeland has been missing for twenty-two hours. It is vital that we locate her in the first twenty-four,” Gideon starts off.

“The unknown subject, or unsub, in this case is most likely a resident of one of the subdivisions around the park. We have cancelled the amber alert. We need to coordinate with all your officers to pull everyone off the street immediately,” Hotch explains.

“That’s fucking crazy,” a random officer scoffs.

“Just hear us out—”

“But it goes against court procedure. You guys wrote the damn thing.”

“Actually, Carp is just a guideline for immediate response to child abduction. Believe it or not, we're already late in the game, and we do know enough about this unsub to know that if he feels like we're closing in on him at all, he will kill Billie to avoid detection. If anything, we need to lessen the pressure on him,” Spencer spits out.

“This man fits in because nobody knows what he is. Can we really know our neighbors? He walks his dog and does yard work. Solitary activities appeal to him. However, if you watch closely, you'll see he pays a little too much attention to the neighborhood kids. Largely goes unnoticed because he isn't perceived as a threat. He’s a white male in his late twenties to thirties. He has a menial or temporary job and is socially marginalized and frustrated. He relates better to kids than he does to adults. It’s not his first offense to children, but it is his first abduction,” you explain.

“How do you know that?” Detective Russet asks.

“First-timers hunt closer to home. Experienced predators don't.”

“He's had a recent stressor—a job loss or other setback. Unable to maintain a normal relationship, he'll have extensive pornographic materials in his home and on his computer. And while they won't all involve children, some of them definitely will,” Hotch takes over.

“Since he used the missing dog ruse, and we believe him to be a regular fixture of the neighborhood, it's quite possible that he truly does own—or did at one point—own a dog named Candy. We recommend cross-checking veterinary records with residents in the neighborhood,” Spencer says.

“He will not inject himself into this investigation.”

“Don't these guys like to know what the cops know?” the detective says.

“No, not this type of unsub. He's hiding. He doesn't know what anyone saw. He doesn't know if there's any information about him out there. He's unlikely to walk in and ask us, ‘can I help you?’. But I can guarantee you he will be watching the news. So, how we handle them is very important,” Gideon stresses.

“Check your canvass records. One of you may have had contact with him in the early stages.”

“What about registered sex offenders?”

“We've got somebody working on that right now.”

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, everyone clear on that? Good luck. Thank you,” Gideon closes this meeting out.

Derek immediately leaves off to the side to call Penelope to have her work her magic touch on the already growing pile of suspects. You’re scheduled to go back to Mrs. Copeland’s house with Elle just to make sure she and her ex-husband are doing alright. Before you do that, however, you walk over to Spencer who is kind of all by his lonesome.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” you ask.

“Could be better. What about you?”

“Same. This is just going to be another nightmare to add to my list,” you sigh sadly.

“Do you dream of children often?”

“It’s a lot less than what you’d think it’d be. I swear this job never gets easier. When I agreed to take this job when Gideon offered it, I was ecstatic. I thought I’d really make a difference.”

“But you are—”

“No, I’m not,” you cut him off. “All I get are some victims that are saved, and a shit ton of nightmares to follow it. The payoff is actually worse if I think about it. Just as I’m about to collapse from extreme depression, I think of this team. I think of you and Penelope and JJ and Derek. I think of kids like Billie. I think of everything good that comes out of these cases. While there isn’t much, I try to hold onto the good as tightly as I can in hopes some of it will rub off on me, you know?”

“Try going through life with an eidetic memory.”

“Bless your heart, Dr. Spencer Reid. Seriously. You’re doing a great job if it means anything.”

“It does. Thank you,” he smiles shyly but brightly.

“Y/N, come on!” Elle calls for you.

“Duty calls. Save that smile for me when I get back, yeah?” you flirt.

You’re already gone before Spencer can come up with anything clever to say. All he’s getting are flushed cheeks and a fuzzy brain. You actually make him forget what he’s about to do… and that’s saying something.

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[shirtlesssammy]

6x02: Two and a Half Men

Then:

Sam Winchester’s back from Hell

Now:

A woman runs with her baby from an unseen assailant in her house. She gets herself and her baby under the bed and they stay as quiet as possible. She sees her dead husband on the floor and can barely keep it together, but does, just in time for the assailant to pull her out from the bed, leaving the baby to watch the carnage. 

Dean, Lisa, and Ben start unpacking their life in their new home. 

Sam checks out the murdered couple. The baby is missing.

Dean orders pizza for lunch, disregarding Lisa’s earlier promise to Ben that they’ll check the neighborhood out when they go out for lunch. 

Sam confers with Grampa Campbell about the case. Something weird is happening with babies. Sam doesn’t see it, but notices that the house has a security system that wasn’t set off by the invader. They have a lead. 

Dean wanders into the garage to find Ben messing around with a shotgun from Baby's trunk. He makes it VERY clear that Ben will never shoot a gun. 

Ben wants to do what Dean does. Dean turns on the ol’ John Winchester charm and yells at Ben to shut up about the gun. Ben backs down and walks away, dejected. 

Samuel has found another family that has the same security system --and fits the profile of the previous victims. Sam heads out to find them. 

Lisa confronts Dean about his altercation with Ben. She wants to know what’s up with Dean. If they killed what was after them, why is he acting like this? She gets that he’s trying to protect them, but he’s scaring her. 

Sam gets to the couple’s house only to find them already murdered. He follows bloody footprints through the house. 

The murderer pops out at him and they fight. Sam slices him with a silver knife, and the wound hisses. The assailant runs away. 

While Dean secures the perimeter that night, Sam calls needing his help on a case. Dean insists that he’s out. Sam tells him something so interesting that Dean meets him. 

Sam saved the baby!

The next morning, Dean hands Lisa a gun, tells her to salt the doors and windows, and takes off to work the case with Sam. 

First on the agenda: shopping for baby supplies. As they’re checking out, the baby starts wailing. Neither brother knows what to do --and here I want to question what the hell Dean’s thinking. Sam has an excuse re: no soul, but Dean, you’ve taken care of a baby before. Anyway, they keep looking at the poor thing like it has two heads. 

A nice woman comes up to coo over the baby and asks his name. Dean answers, “Bobby” and Sam answers, “John”. Yep, the baby is named Bobby John. She offers to change his diapers for them. Dean glances over at a security monitor and sees that her eyes are glowing. 

Dean declines. More specifically he says, “Give me the baby before I stab you in the neck.” Bold. The lady takes off running with Bobby John. Sam wrestles the baby from her while Dean full body tackles her to the ground. She plays the old lady card and security comes after Dean. He runs. 

Sam and Dean need to get off the road, especially since the shifter caught Sam’s license plate and is now a cop tracking the number.

At a motel, Dean changes Bobby John’s diaper and then hums him to sleep with Smoke on the Water. EVERY TIME I’m sorry to say this just makes my brain emit a low, steady brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

For Tender Dean Science:

Okay, I’ve rebooted. 

Sam - who has spent the whole time seated in front of research material - is impressed at Dean’s fatherly chops. But like, HE RAISED YOU, SAMMY. You must at least be able to logically analyze your memories? Dean chalks up his skillz to his recent experience parenting Ben. “I know he’s not my kid, but lately I’ve been feeling like...yeah, he is.” He’d like to raise Ben better than they grew up. In related news, do you ever want to just chew off your own arm???

Soulless!Sam informs Dean that moving Lisa and Ben from place to place is just as bad as their own fractured childhood. 

Sam pushes Dean to consider that his paranoid behavior is turning him into their father. I do like that Sam is helping my girl Lisa out with the traumatized man living in her home but DAMN, SAM. While Dean broods over his failures as both a father and a partner, Sam realizes that the dad in the recent deadly home invasion is still alive. He heads out, leaving Dean to dip his finger in whiskey and let Bobby John have a taste.

Bobby John’s dad is...not bereaved. His wife was cheating on him and got pregnant. (So apparently she deserved a gruesome death? Huh. Good to know, dude.) She denied she was cheating, telling him that he’d come back early from a trip and they’d had sex. It’s fun how the layers of trauma this cold open woman goes through just get worse and worse. 

At the motel, Dean’s relaxing on the vibrating bed when there’s a wet explosion from the crib. It’s not a poopy diaper! When he peers over the crib, Bobby John’s an entirely new baby. (He’s the baby on the diapers box and I really hope those parents got to keep that prop!) Sam calls with a new theory - the baby’s father is a shapeshifter!

Bobby John gets cleaned up just in time for a shady manager to knock on the door and demand to be let in. The shapeshifter cop from earlier bursts in just as Dean unlocks the door. He’s there to bring the baby to “our father,” whomever that is! They engage in fisticuffs, until Sam arrives and shoots the shifter.

Later, they’re driving off with Bobby John to find a safe haven for the little tyke. “I didn’t even know they had babies,” Sam says, of shifters. “I thought they were just freaks of nature - like, X-Men style.” Gurl, please. He refers to Bobby John as a monster, but Dean insists that Bobby John is just an innocent baby. If I had a dollar for every time this show danced around this point only to fuck off and forget it in the next episode, I’d have a lot of dollars. 

Sam suggests bringing Bobby John to the Campbells to raise, which Dean thinks is a monumentally poor idea. (I’m Dean/Cas endgame BUT imagine society if Dean had brought Lisa a shapeshifter baby to raise!!!) Sam “not all hunters” the Campbells, then says that Samuel is like Dean. This is...not the slam dunk argument Sam thinks it is. “I’m a freakin’ head case,” Dean rebuts and it is a SOLID REBUTTAL. Still, they head to the Campbell’s compound.

And it is a literal compound, with armed guards standing patrol at the metal gates. In the grim main building, cold Campbells circle Dean and Bobby John like sharks. All the Campbells look like they’re one step away from taking a knife to the baby. Dean refuses to hand over Bobby John to any of the “family.” Sam asks to hold Bobby John. Sam then immediately turns around and hands Bobby John over to Samuel and I CHEW MY OWN ARM OFF I HATE SOULLESS!SAM sometimes. Dean wants to know what the plan is now.

All the dark looks shot between the Campbells make me want to scream, and then weep. 

Dean’s worried about the Campbells wanting to study Bobby John (in the mad scientist way) and Christian Campbell laconically comments that Dean’s mind goes straight to torture. When Dean demands an explanation, it’s revealed that the Campbells know aaalllll about Dean’s torture time in Hell. 

The Campbells also fantasize about what a great hunter a shapeshifter will make. Samuel demands that Dean trust him, and then interrogates Christian about his baby-making failures with his wife. He offers Bobby John to Christian. “The crap I do for this family,” Christian mutters as he takes the baby. READERRRRRRRRRS, I hate him.

Outside, a dog yelps. Dean and Sam flee for the panic room with Bobby John while the Campbells load up with weapons. A shapeshifter arrives, wearing Samuel’s face. They tranquilize him after a fight, and try to take him prisoner. 

The shifter heads down to the panic room wearing Sam’s face, tosses Sam across the room, and then just...shimmers himself into Dean’s form. 

The shifter pins Dean against the wall, cutting off his air until he passes out. He then takes Bobby John and calmly walks out. 

Later, they all reconvene after the fight. Samuel reveals that the shifter was an alpha shifter, who spawned all the other shifters. “The lore” also says that an alpha can sense their babies anywhere. 

As Dean and Sam walk out to the car, Dean goes over the details of the hunt. He wants to know if Sam registered what the shifter at the motel had said about his “father.” Sam lies incredibly poorly, but Dean puts it all together. If Sam knew the alpha was on the hunt, then he would have known that he would come after Bobby John. Dean wants to know if he was using the baby as bait. Sam plays it off - he just thought the Campbell compound was the safest place. UGH DOUBLE UGH at all the terrible layers. 

Samuel has a brief phone call, complaining to an unknown boss about how hard it was to try to take the alpha shifter prisoner. 

Back at Lisa’s, Dean frets about the best way to keep Lisa and Ben safe. He acknowledges that he’s been acting like a prison guard. “You tell yourself you’re not gonna be something...my dad was exactly like this. All the time. Scared the hell outta me.” Lisa tells him that she knows one thing: 

She looks at him, and sees someone who wants to hunt. But she also tells him that he sees himself as “some bad, awful thing. But you're not.” She proposes that Dean head out to hunt with his brother, and stop by when he can. Maybe they can have it all!

Dean smiles a real, honest smile in the garage as he pulls the car cover from Baby. Smoke on the Water plays us through a truly gratuitous hot rod close-up of Baby. The curves! The headlights!

For I’m Just Gonna Give You Two the Room Science:

Dean is back in town!

Baby Quotes:

So either we've got monsters grabbing babies to make baby stew, or we've got a bunch of psychotic yokels grabbing babies to make baby stew. Either way, it's baby stew, which is bad

You think I speak baby?

I've never seen a baby monster before

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[fictionalabyss]

Money doesn’t grow on trees.

Pairing : Sam, Dean, John.

Word count :   1,701

Written for : @spnfluffbingo

Square : walking the dog

Warnings : Johns gruff and cranky parenting style, Dean forever getting in shit, Bullying mentioned in passing, secrets, Sam can take care of himself but Dean won't let him.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

SPN Fluff bingo 2020 Masterlist.

“Money’s for food, Dean.” Dean just looked down at the floor as his father continued to yell at him. “Food. Nothing else.” He didn’t argue, he knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere. He had tried when he was first accused but John hadn’t let him and he knew it wouldn’t change anything anyways. “Are clothes a necessity right now, Dean?”

“No, sir.”

“Does he absolutely need new shirts? New jeans?”

“No, sir.”

“No. What does he need?”

“Food. Shelter. School. Safety.”

“Don’t let me catch you wasting my money again, Dean.” John snapped. “It doesn’t grow on trees.”

“It is paper.” Dean muttered under his breath.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, sir.”

“Good. Get in the damn car. We’re going.”

The entire ride was silent. Sam in the back reading a book while Dean brooded in the front seat next to his father, eyes out the window at the passing scenery. He hadn’t bought Sam new clothes. He had no idea where they had come from, but he was pissed about getting in trouble for it. Maybe Sammy had taken to stealing. It's not like Dean hadn’t done it before, but the fact that John didn’t even consider it a possibility infuriated him. John’s precious little Sammy could do no wrong, while Dean could barely do right.

Five days at the new motel, and Dean was noticing a pattern. The last three days Sam got home late, and this morning he’d rushed out an hour before he even had to be at school.  When Sam finally returned, Dean watched him suspiciously as he set himself up doing homework as if nothing was wrong, as if he hadn’t gotten back to the motel 45 minutes late.

And right before Dean served up supper, Sam seemed to jump up, eyes on the clock. “What?”

“I’ll be back.” Sam grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair.

“Where are you going?”

“Library. I forgot a book. I shouldn’t be too long.” And with that, Sam rushed out of the room, the door shutting loudly behind him.

Dean watched the door suspiciously for a minute. Sam was lying, there was no doubt about it. But why? What was he up to? Turning off the hot plate and unplugging it, Dean grabbed his own jacket and the motel key before slipping out, looking around for any sign of Sam.

The light must have been red when Sam got to the corner, because when Dean reached the sidewalk, Sam was just making it across the street. From there, it was easy to follow him through the streets while keeping a safe distance.

Dean followed him across two more streets and down another when Sam finally knocked on someone's front door. Did Sam have a girlfriend? And if he did why hide it? Nevermind, Dean knew why, he’d tease him endlessly. Dean smirked at the thought and waited, wanting to see this girl. His brow furrowed in confusion however when a much, much older woman opened the door, smiled at his little brother and ushered Sam inside.

“What the hell?”

Who was the old broad and why was Sam there? It didn’t take long for him to have an answer. Two minutes after Sam entered, the door opened and he came back out, two leashed dogs on his heels as he made his way back down the steps and to the sidewalk. Dean watched as his little brother started down the sidewalk and towards the nearby park.

Dean followed him, watched as Sam went into the park, let the dogs do their business and aimlessly walked the paths before he started back for the little old lady’s house again. The dogs were handed back off, and Sam was paid.

Sam wasn’t stealing, he was walking dogs for money? He knew Sam had always wanted a dog, begged for one. If he was trying to prove he could take care of one, that he was responsible, why hide it? No, it was something else. With a furrowed brow and a million thoughts running through his head, Dean headed back for the motel needing to beat Sam back. Why did Sam need money?

Entering the motel room, Dean glanced at Sam’s things still on the table as he turned the hot plate back on to warm up dinner again. Sam’s bag was beat up. Handle on the top broken, and a hole on it’s side. Rooting through the bag, Dean didn’t find anything of interest. Deciding to check Sam’s duffle, Dean went digging through it. Inside, buried deep down in a balled up pair of socks, Dean found money. He thumbed it, still wondering why Sam needed it. Was he planning on running?

Hearing the motel room door knob turn, Dean jumped back, kicking the bag out of view and crossing the room towards the small kitchenette. “Where’s the book?” Dean asked, not even having glanced back. He knew damn well Sam didn’t have a book with him.

“Someone else got to it first. I’ll have to check back tomorrow.” Sam pulled off his jacket and toed off his shoes by the door, his jacket getting tossed onto the bed closest to the door.

“Go clean up, it’s time to eat.”  Sam nodded and started for the bathroom. “And Sammy?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t lie to me again.”

“I-”

“Don’t lie to me.” Sam shut his mouth. “Clean up. Food’s ready.”

Once they were sitting and eat, Sam having not uttered a single word, Dean finally asked. “Why do you need the money.” No answer came. “I found it, Sammy. Why?”

“I needed new clothes.” Sam muttered.

“You could have told Dad.”

“And I’d just get more of your hand me downs.” Sam shot Dean a look. “I’m tired of it, Dean. I want something that’s mine for once.” Dean sighed, and started poking at his food. “Are you going to tell dad?” Sam sounded almost scared.

“How much more do you need?”

“Another 40, at least.” Dean's eyes shot up. “Some asshole at school grabbed my bag and ripped it, and I’m already breaking through both pairs of shoes I have..”

“Focus on school, Sammy. If your grades slip dad will lose his shit.”

“My grades are fine-”

“You heard me. Focus.” With a roll of his eyes, Sam’s attention was back on his dinner. “I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

“Okay.” Sam conceded.

When Dean got home from school the next day, John was already back, and he had a wad of cash in his hand. Sam froze in the doorway behind him, ready to run if things got ugly. “What the hell is this?”

“Dad?”

“Why did I find money hidden in a bag, Dean?” Dean glanced over to their duffle bags side by side on the floor. Maybe John hadn’t noticed it had been Sam’s bag and not his. “I was packing up, getting ready for us to go when I found it. Where’d it come from, Dean? You stealing it?”

“No.”

“No? Picking pockets? Swiping from a register? Skimming from the money I give you-”

“I got a job.” John cocked an eyebrow. “I- I started walking dogs. Sam needed some stuff, so I took care of it.”

“You hate dogs.”

“Yeah, well, anything for Sam, right?” Dean looked up at his father, almost challenging him. “That’s what you taught me.”

“You’ve been walking dogs?”

“Every day after school.”

“And what does Sam do when you’re doing this? You leaving him alone?”

“Sam comes with, plays with them in the park, you know how bad he wants a dog.”

John’s eyes shifted to his youngest hiding behind Dean. “Is he telling the truth?” Sam nodded so John’s eyes shifted back to Dean. “Your grades better not be slipping.”

“No sir, they aren’t. And I’ve been making sure Sam stays focused too.”

“Pack up, we’re heading out.” Both boys nodded and started to get to work.

“Thanks, Dean.” Sam whispered. Dean didn’t answer.

Dean knocked on a door, Sammy by his side. If they were going to do this, they were going to do it smart, Dean insisted on it. He’d taken Sam a little further out of town, where the houses were bigger and people had real yards. The door opened and a middle aged woman stood before them. “Good morning, Ma’am. My name is Dean Winchester, and this is my younger brother Sammy.” he flashed her a smile. “We’re new to the neighborhood and were wondering if you were in need of some yard work being done, or a dog walker?”

“Yard work or a dog walker, huh?” She looked both boys over.

“We could do other chores as well. Anything your kids or husband put off doing, we’re more than happy to help.”

“Well, aren’t you two very eager.” She smiled softly at Dean.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Come on in. I’m sure I can find something for you boys to do.”

She headed inside, and Dean followed first, shooting Sam a wink. As they made their way through the house, Dean looked at the pictures on the wall. He’d hit the nail on the head with this one. Married, kids, neither husband nor children in the house at the moment it seemed, and from the looks of some of those pictures, the marriage might even be on the rocks. And they had money. Money enough to drop a few bucks on two kids doing some chores they didn’t want to do themselves.

As she brought them out back, three small dogs ran towards them making Sam’s face light up.

“You can start with cleaning my pool.” She pointed out. “We’ll go from there.” She glanced back to Sam who was happily petting the dogs. “He really likes dogs, huh?”

Dean nodded. “Always wanted one, but dad says no. It’s why he’s a dog walker.”

She nodded, watching Sam. “Twenty for the pool, and twenty for the dogs.” Sam’s eyes shot up. “If you come three times a week.”

“Deal!” Sam grinned.

“I’ll bring you the leashes.”

As she headed inside, Sam looked to Dean, happy. “Now you’ll be able to get your new shoes and you don’t have to lie about it.”

“Thanks, Dean.”

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[waitimcomingtoo]

Dog Days 2

Pairing: Single Dad!Tom Holland x Vet Reader

Part One

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

And maybe they did date.

Or they would’ve, if Tom didn’t have the courage of an inchworm.

“This was really fun.” You said sincerely as you pulled up to your house. “I had a nice time.”

You had finished your ice cream, battled over who would pay the check, and gotten a ride home from Tom. He insisted on doing it, despite you saying you could just hail a cab, in order to pay you back for taking care of the check. Tom pulled up to your cozy home and saw Banjo jumping up and down in front of the window. Your shutters were pained a different color around every window and you had a rainbow of flowers on your front lawn. Big yellow sunflowers sprouted from the ground and stared bodily at the pale London sun. Tom smiled at the thought of you planting those flowers. Your house was cute, and uniquely you, but something about it or a bad taste in Toms mouth. It wasn’t in the nicest of neighborhoods, and it wasn’t nearly big enough to hold all the colorful dresses and coats Tom imagined you had. It was entirely too small for someone with such a big personality. He knew then why he didn’t like your house.

It was because it wasn’t a castle.

As far as Tom was concerned, you were a Queen, and you deserved a palace.

“I like your house.” Tom lied.

“I don’t.” You laughed. “It’s always cold. And look at my poor sunflowers. They’re so beautiful but they never see the sun.”

Tom was busy thinking the exact same thing about you.

Tom frowned to himself. He had the opposite of your problem. His large estate was only inhabited by him and his son. It was a lonely house, much to big for just to two of them. The walls echoed and there was a sad creek in the floors. The dull walls and monochrome decorations only added to the sad demeanor of the house. It needed some color, Tom decided then. He looked curiously at you, in your bright yellow dress and glossy hair, cheeks pink from the nippy London air. You were the color Tom was looking for.

You noticed Tom looking at you and have him a shy smile. You leaned in a little and brushed some hair off your face. He knew what he needed to do. He knew what he should do. This was the part where he asked for your number, and maybe, just maybe, went in for the kiss. A kiss on the cheek, of course. You looked at Tom expectantly, knowing just as well as he did where this was going. You were right there. All he had to do was lean in. Everything in him wanted to do it. He was drawn to you like a magnet.

“Can I get your-“ Tom began. You raised your eyebrows, giving him an encouraging smile that urged him to go on. But in that moment, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t ask for your number. He couldn’t kiss you. He couldn’t go after the girl of his dreams. He was too scared. He was 29 years old, and scared of girls. He awkwardly cleared his throat. “Can I get your door?”

“Of course you- what?” You stuttered. Your door? He wanted to open your door?

“Your door.” Tom repeated, making as if that’s what he meant to say all along, when in reality he was dying to get your number in his phone so he could memorize every digit. “Allow me to open it for you.”

Tom got out of the car, and started silently yelling at himself for chickening out. He took his time walking around the car, hoping his embarrassed flush would leave his face by the time he got to your door. You looked back at Lucas, who was shaking his head in disdain.

“And he says I’m shy.” Lucas rolled his eyes and slapped a tiny hand to his forehead, making you giggle. He had built up quite the personality in his five years on the earth.

“Well I like you just the way you are.” You said as you reached back and poked his tummy. “And I like your daddy too. But don’t tell him. That’s our little secret.” You held a finger to your lips. Lucas mimicked your action and bounced in his car seat.

“My daddy likes you a lot.” Lucas said with childlike excitement. “He was fixing his hair for two hours and sprayed himself with cold lone.”

“You mean cologne.” You corrected him.

“What’s this about cologne?” Tom asked as he opened your door. He’d taken a minute to compose himself, as well as berate himself for not asking for your number.

“I was just telling Lucas how vets have to collect perfume from the girl bees and cologne from the boys bees every morning.” You explained as you got out of the car.

“That’s how flowers get their scent.” Lucas said confidently. You looked back at him in surprise and he held a finger to his lips. You gave him a proud smile and shot him a wink.

“That’s right Lucas.” You chirped. You were out of the car now, accidentally pressing up against Tom as he was stood directly next to the door.

“Sorry about that.” You said shyly as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. The pesky London wind blew it right back into your face.

“No apology needed for a pretty lady in my personal space.” Tom said suavely, slowing getting his groove back. He even went as far as tucking your hair behind your ear. He messed up in getting your number, but he still had a chance to kiss you. The cards were in his favor. He was about to make the jump from patient to something more. He just needed to bring it home. “I’d even say you’re welcome in my personal space anytime you’d like.”

“Lucky for you, I quite like it here.” You quipped. You were really giving Tom a run for his money.

“Maybe you should be in my personal space more often.” He said lowly. You smirked, liking his newfound confidence.

“Maybe I should.” You said as you slowly leaned in.

This was it. This was his chance to kiss you.

“Could I, perchance,” Tom started to say. He shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. Perchance? Perchance? “Could I…” He trailed off, freezing once again.

“Yes?” You asked, silently begging him with your eyes to go on.

“Could I walk you to your door?” He blurted. You blinked in surprise.

“Sure.” You smiled tightly in disappointment. He didn’t feel the same. He just wanted to leave.

You and Tom walked silently to your front door, the only sounds coming from Banjos crescendoing barking.

“Y/n, I need to tell you something.” Tom said when you got to your front door.

“Is it that you have a thing for doors?” You asked in halfhearted sarcasm.

“Yes.” Tom stated. He shut his eyes again. “I mean, no. I don’t. I just-could you just do me a favor?”

“Anything.” You said.

“Could you,” be patient with me and give me another chance? “Could you have yourself a good night?”

That’s it. That was what he said to the girl of his dreams.

“What?” You asked, almost annoyed know at his sudden disposition towards you.

“I said what I said.” Tom said meekly. He wanted to die right there.

“Is it what you wanted to say?” You asked, giving him a second chance.

“Yes?” Tom asked after a long moments hesitation. It came out as more of a question. He saw the disappointment pool in and fill yours eyes.

“Then you have a good night too, Mr. Holland.” You said in a way that made Tom realize he blew it. Utterly blew it. You hadn’t even called him Tom. He was reduced to Mr. Holland, just another patient. “Good luck with Tessa.”

You walked inside your house without another word. Tom stayed on your porch for a moment, wallowing in self pity and wondering if it was worth it to knock and apologize. He didn’t hear Banjo barking anymore, and figured you had taken him inside. Tom felt like an idiot. He literally let you walk out of his life. He practically drove you out. He went back to his car with his head hung in defeat. He got in, gave your house one last look, and pulled away.

“Daddy!” Lucas exclaimed and threw his hands in the air. “What are you doing?”

Tom looked at his son in the rear view mirror and furrowed his eyebrows.

“What do you mean, buddy?”

“The prince always kisses the princess.” Lucas explained, annoyed that his father didn’t know that. “You were supposed to kiss Dr. L/n.”

“Why did you want me to kiss Dr. L/n?” Tom asked.

“So she can become a queen. And you would be the king and I would be the prince and Tessa would be our royal pet,” Lucas smiled as he rambled about his fantasy story, “and we would all live together. As a family.”

Tom gulped, not expecting to have this conversation so soon in his sons life.

“We’re already are family, buddy.” Tom responded in the only way he could.

“No we’re not.” Lucas shook his head. “A family needs a daddy and a mommy.”

“That’s not true.” Tom said decisively. “That’s not true at all. Your friend Marcus doesn’t have a mommy and he and his father are just as much as a family as anyone else. Not every family needs a mommy and a daddy.”

“But I want a mommy.” Lucas said sadly.

“You do?” Tom said with a dry mouth. He would give his son the world if he could. But this was the one thing just out of reach.

“Everyone else has one.” Lucas went on. “I want one too. Peters mom always packs him cookies and Ned’s mom bakes really good cupcakes.”

“I can bake cupcakes.” Tom defended.

“Your cupcakes are rubbish.” Lucas whined.

“Hey! You just lost TV time for the night.” Tom said sternly.

“Fine.” Lucas grumbled. He folded his little arms and stared out the window. After a while, he said softly, “I want Dr. L/n to be my mommy.”

“It doesn’t work like that, buddy.” Tom sighed. “It’s really complicated for adults.”

“I don’t like adults.” Lucas mumbled as he toyed with the pin you gave him. “When are we gonna see her again?”

“I don’t know if we will.” Tom said, his voice thick with disappointment. “Dr. Russo is our vet, not Dr. L/n. She was just filling in for him.”

“But I like Dr. L/n.” Lucas complained.

“I know, buddy. I do too.” Tom said.

“Then why didn’t you kiss her?” Lucas asked.

“I don’t know why.” Tom said honestly. “I guess I got scared.”

“Maybe you need to be brave, Daddy.” Lucas repeated your words to him. Tom looked at him in the mirror again and sighed. Lucas was right. He should’ve been brave. As your house got further and further away, Tom wished he had gotten that advice sooner.

Two weeks later, Banjo was being a brat.

“Dude, I just let you out.” You said to your ever so demanding dog.

Banjo stared at you while wagging his short tail, his open mouth making it look like he was smiling at you.

“Don’t use that tone of with me, young man.” You pointed at him menacingly. He continued to wag his tail and gave out a soft bark.

“What did you just say to me?” You gasped.

Banjo plopped on the ground and gave you puppy dog eyes.

“Fine. I’ll take you to the park. But you better fix your attitude by the time we get there.” You put Banjos collar around his neck and hooked it to his leash. You opened the door and Banjo took one step forward, standing in the middle of the threshold. He stood there for a minute, just sniffing the air, before you kicked his tushie and made him go.

Banjo was a pretty antisocial dog. He didn’t like to interact with the other dogs at the park. So when a familiar stafiture bull terrier trotted up to you, you were surprised to see Banjo pulling on his leash to get closer to her.

“Tessa?” You asked, bending down to see the dog. She took a seat in front of you with a heavy plop. Upon closer inspection, you confirmed it was Tessa. She looked much healthier, and it made your heart glow.

“What are you doing here, pretty girl?” You asked as you scratched behind her ears and looked around. Tom and Lucas were nowhere to be found. You suddenly noticed a folded piece of paper sticking out of Tessa’s bright pink collar.

“You got something for me?” You asked her with a coy smile. You took the note out and opened in. On the front was a half colored in drawing of a dinosaur. On the back, in sloppy, unmistakable five year old handwriting, it said:

“Will u be my girlfrend?”

“Aw, Tessa.” You smiled to yourself as you fan your finger over the red crayon letters. “I’m flattered but I think I have feelings for someone else. And just for future reference, there’s an “i” in “girlfriend.” Just so you know.”

Just as Banjo and Tessa were beginning to sniff each other, you heard your name from behind you.

“Dr. L/n! Did you get the note?” Lucas burst into your view with a red face from running. He was panting, most likely from being chased. You could practically see the steam coming off his little red sneakers.

“Hey, Lucas.” You said happily, not having expected to see the boy again. You took out a napkin from your purse and gently dabbed at the sweat on his forehead. When he finally caught his breath, he gave you a gap toothed smile.

“Did you get the note?” He asked again. Before you could answer, you heard more fast paced foot steps behind you.

“Lucas, what did I say about running away from me? And how many times have I told you not to talk to strangers?” Tom said sternly as he walked up to his son. He took Lucas’s hand and went to pull him away before he noticed you. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw who his son was talking to.

You.

You of all people. He hadn’t seen you since the ice cream date, despite going to the vet twice for Tessa glucose curves. He had hoped to run into you, wishing for a chance to apologize. But your paths never crossed, until now.

“Hey stranger.” You teased, standing up to fully greet Tom. You weren’t one to hold grudges. Yea, you were upset with the way the date ended. But he was too cute not to forgive. He looked flustered and at a loss for words, but even more so happy to see you.

“Dr. L/n! I mean, uh, Y/n. Um, Hey.” He stammered as he ran his fingers through his hair and gave it a stressful tug. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just taking Banjo here on a walk around the park before his big ballet recital tomorrow.” You replied as nodded over at Banjo. Banjo was a big fat corgi with a heart of gold. Lucas giggled at your comment and bent down to pet Banjos head. Banjo immediately warmed up to Lucas and licked his face with glee. You smiled at the sweet interaction.

“How’s it uh, how’s it going?” Tom continued. Something about you always managed to turn Toms brain to putty. He couldn’t even think straight. Once again, you looked at radiant as the sun in your maroon dress and grey coat. The colors complimented you so well and you looked so pretty that Tom almost had to stop himself from taking a picture.

“It’s going pretty good. But, uh, I think your dog just asked me out.” You said as you handed Tom the note. Tom looked at you strangely before accepting the note. He unfolded it and immediately recognized his sons handwriting. The tips of his ears turned the same shade as the red crayon. Somehow, at 29 years old, Tom was still getting flustered around pretty girls. Despite the London chill, Tom felt uncomfortable hot.

“Listen, Y/n…” he began. This was just his luck. He was finally getting a second chance with you and Tessa beat him to it.

“No, it’s totally fine.” You smiled assuringly. “I don’t mind that she asked me out. I always have a problem with my patients falling in love with me.” You laughed lightly. Tom gave you a thankful smile for always making light of an awkward situation. You looked at Lucas and sighed dramatically. “The giraffe I gave a neck brace to last week will not stop calling me.”

“My daddy wants to take you on a another date.” Lucas stood up and said proudly. He looked between you and Tom with an innocent smile.

“Does he now?” You asked Lucas, before looking expectingly at Tom. “Doesn’t really seem like it from the way he acted after our last one.” You teased, with a little truth behind your words. Tom had a red face and wide eyes as he pulled Lucas close to him and held him there firmly.

“Kids say the darndest things.” Tom chucked awkwardly before giving Lucas that “you’re in trouble, mister” look.

“But you said on the phone with Uncle Harry that you wanted to ask out the pretty vet but you-“ Lucas tried to explain.

“Ah ah ah.” Tom put a hand over Lucas’s mouth and gave you an embarrassed smile. The rest of Lucas’s declaration came out in muffled grunts. You laughed at the sight in front of you and toyed with Banjos leash.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Tom lied, making a metal note not to talk to Harry about his love life until after Lucas fell asleep.

“You know,” you said suddenly as you tapped a finger on your chin, “you remind me of a patient I once had.”

“I do?” Tom asked.

“We called him the Cowardly Lion.” You folded your arms and gave Tom a pointed look. He gave you a sarcastic smile.

“Mhmh hrum hhe mizard ofh mz?” Lucas asked, still muffled by Toms hands. Tom quickly took his hand off his sons mouth. Lucas took a dramatic breath before repeating, “Like from the wizard of oz?”

“That’s exactly who it was. He had to come see me because he tried on the ruby slippers and twisted his ankle.” You shook your head at the false memory. Lucas listened with amazement. “Anyway, your dad is a lot like him.”

“Really?” Lucas asked. “Do you wear high heels daddy?”

“No!” Tom exclaimed before clearing his throat. “I mean, no.” He said calmly.

“Then how are you like the cowardly lion?” Lucas looked back to you for an answer. Tom looked at you too as if he had the same questions.

“Remember when I gave you that lady bug pin and I told you to be brave, Lucas?” You asked the boy.

“Yep.” Lucas said. He pointed to the pin that he proudly wore on his shirt, like a badge of honor. Tom loved it too, wishing he had his own momento of you.

“Well I think your daddy need to borrow it, so that he can be brave too.” You replied.

Lucas looked down at his pin thoughtfully. He didn’t want to part with it. This was the biggest crossroad he’d ever come to in his five years on this earth. Lucas needed the pin. It was his superpower. But, his dad did always taught him to do the right thing and help others. And so, Lucas undid the pin and held it up to his father. Tom watched his son in awe. Lucas loved that pin with all the love in his little five year old body. He never took it off, even insisting Tom pinned it to his pajamas at night. Of course, Tom would sneak into Lucas room after he fell asleep to take it off so the pin didn’t print him, but Lucas didn’t know that. He even kept it next to the tub when he was in the bath just so he wouldn’t be too far from it. And here we was, willingly parting with it for the first time since he received it just to help his dad. Tom carefully took the pin from his son.

“Thanks buddy.” Tom said softly. He knew in that moment that he had raised Lucas just fine on his own. He pinned the pin to his shirt, hands fumbling a bit from the nerves of being in your presence.

“Here.” You laughed a little at his clumsiness. “Let me help.”

You reached out and fastened to pin to Toms shirt. It was the closest he’d ever been to you, topping that time at in your office. He watched your face carefully, trying to memorize every line and curve. You were even more spectacular up close. He’d never seen you wear your hair the way you had it that day, though technically this was only your third encounter. But it was down and fell perfectly around your face, like a hand carved frame around a priceless work of art. You bit your lip as you also struggled with the pin.

“I’m not good at this.” You laughed, referring to the pin. The tiny clasp made it difficult to fasten to his shirt. Finally, you got it on.

“Im not good at this either.” Tom breathed out. No fear. Be brave. “Any of this. That’s what I was trying to tell you. I wanted to ask for your number, and take you on another date. And I wanted to ki-“ Tom looked at Lucas. “I wanted to k-i-s-s you-“

“I can spell.” Lucas muttered.

“-I really, really wanted too. I swear.” Tom confessed, making you smile at his honesty.

“Then why didn’t you? You kinda left me hanging there.” You told him, still a little hurt by the memory.

“I know. And I’m really sorry. It’s just, I’m really bad at this.” He gestured between the two of you. “Like, really bad. I’m so far out of the game. I literally have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Nobody knows what they’re doing. That’s why being with someone is called having a partner. You figure it out together.” You assured him.

“But you deserve a guy who knows what he’s doing.” Tom said, still pouring out the honesty.

“Look at Lucas.” You turned Tom by his shoulders and pointed to Lucas, who was picking flowers and arranging them in Tessa’s collar. “That kid being the way he is tells me you know exactly what you’re doing. You’re being two parents to him. That’s a lot to ask as it is. So if you haven’t taken the time to date and got a little rusty, that’s perfectly okay. And if you want to get back in the game now, that’s perfectly okay too.”

“I don’t want to get back in the game.” Tom said firmly. “I just want you.”

“Thank you.” You said coyly.

“For what?” Tom wondered.

“For finally being honest with me.” You answered. “That was really brave of you to say.”

“I had a little help.” Tom pointed to his pin with a proud smile.

“In that case,” you smiled softly, “I’ll be needing that back.” You took the note from Toms hands and squatted down to Tessa. “Thank you for the offer, but Tom and I have been playing cat and mouse for a few weeks now, and the only time I like cats and mice are when I’m getting paid for treating them.”

“Does that mean…” Tom began.

“That was my elaborate way of telling you yes, I will be your girlfriend.” You nodded happily.

“Oh Thank God.” Tom sighed a breath of relief. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you said no.”

“As if I’d ever say no to you.” You straightened his jacket and brushed his shoulder. “I have been thinking about you non stop from the moment I took your dogs blood sugar.”

“I think about you all the time too. Would you want to go on another date? Maybe just the two of us this time?” Tom asked, confidently this time. You smiled proudly at him.

“I would love too.”

And maybe they did a little more than date.

“Y/n, your family’s here.” Your coworker called from the front desk. You curiously came out of your office as Tom, Lucas, and Tessa came bounding into the Vet office.

“Mommy!” Lucas squealed and ran into your arms.

“Hey, lovebug.” You scooped him up and gave him a big kiss on the cheek.

“There’s my pretty girl!” You cooed to Tessa and you scratched her chin.

“And there’s my pretty girl.” Tom said suavely as he kissed you on the lips.

“Well hello to you too, handsome.” You kissed Tom again. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

“Tessa is sick and we only trust her with you.” Tom said in a weird way. You eyed him carefully.

“She’s sick? Come into my office.” You motioned for them to follow you and walked towards your office.

You walked into your examine room, dragging your fingertips along the gold plaque next to your office labeled “Dr. Holland.”

“We have to make this fast. I have 101 dalmatians in the next room who all need vaccinations.” You said as you hoisted Tessa onto the table.

“Just look at her. She has something stuck to her fur.” Tom bit his lip in excitement.

“That sounds more like you need a groomer.” You stopped looking at Tessa and looked up at Tom.

“Please, just take a look?” Tom begged. “It’ll only be a second.”

“Alright. But if I get 101 letters of complaint, I’m blaming you.” You said as you began to examine Tessa. Her left side was perfectly fine. On her ride side, you felt something hard and plastic. “I think I found it.” You grunted as you struggled to turn Tessa over. She was a stubborn dog, like her daddy. You finally managed to get her on her side and took a further inspection to her fur.

“Do you see anything?” Tom asked, bouncing on his heels now.

“It looks like tape, but there’s something stuck in it. Let me try to remove it.” You grabbed a washcloth and held it under the warm water for a minute. Once it was ready, you held it to the tape and let it melt the glue on the tape. After a minute or two, the tape came off, along with a little white stick.

“What’s that?” Tom squeaked. He was a professional actor, but could not keep a straight face in this moment. This was far too important of a moment.

“I don’t know.” You said before turning it over, ”it looks like a…pregnancy test?”

“I’m pregnant.” Tom nearly burst with excitement. You snapped your attention to your bumbling husband.

“You’re what?” Your jaw dropped.

“I mean, you’re pregnant. We’re pregnant.” Tom exclaimed. “Tessa is also pregnant but that didn’t seem as important.” Tom rambled. “Also, I think Banjo needs to be neutered.”

“Did you stick tape to our dog to tell me I’m pregnant?” You asked slowly.

“Yes.” Tom said immediately and then pointed at Lucas. “It was his idea.”

“Don’t blame me! I can’t even read!” Lucas protested.

“I’m not mad. This is just a prime example of there being three brain cells between the three of you, and Tessa has all of them.” You laughed.

“You’re not mad?” Tom asked hopefully.

“How could I be?” You asked.

“We just hadn’t talked about starting a family so soon and don’t know how you feel about more kids and oh you’re kissing me.” Toms last words were muffled by your lips on his. You pulled away after Lucas let out a “yuck!” and smiled at Tom with tears in your eyes.

“Tom, we have been a family since the day you walked through my door with your adorable son and diabetic dog, who by the grace of God have now become my adorable son and diabetic dog. I’m not mad at all. I’m ecstatic. I’m elated. I’m thrilled. I’m…I’m.” You fanned your hands in search of a word worthy of being used to describe your emotions. Tom, always your missing piece, picked up where you left off.

“Pregnant?” He asked, eyes reddening with emotion.

“That’s the word.” You said as a tear escaped your eye. Tom placed a gentle hand on your tummy.

“We’re really having a baby.” Tom whispered in disbelief. “There’s a baby in your tummy and it’s ours.”

Too emotional to speak, you pulled Tom into a tender kissed as your thumb brushed away his tears.

“Is the baby in your tummy because you ate it?” Lucas broke up the emotional moment with his innocent question.

You and Tom contemplated your answer for a moment before responding.

“Yes?” You replied.

“Then I’m pregnant with a crayon.” Lucas sighed. Everyone in the room was silent for a moment.

“Lucas, we’re gonna talk about that later…” Tom said and you nodded. “Right now we’re talking about how mommy is having a baby.” Tom said as he bent down to Lucas’s height.

“But I’m your baby.” Lucas said a little sadly.

“Yes. You are.” You assured him with a kind smile. “And nothing could ever change that. But this baby is going to be your brother or sister, like your Uncle Harry is to daddy.”

“I’m getting my own Uncle Harry?” Lucas lit up.

“Yep.” You confirmed.

“And my own Uncle Sam and Uncle Paddy?” He asked excitedly.

“Maybe one day.” You laughed. “But right now, we’re just having one baby. And our family is going to grow. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for you anymore.”

“When will the baby be here?” Lucas wondered.

“Nine months.” You responded.

“Ugh.” Lucas stamped his foot. “Packages always take so long to come.”

“But we can promise this package will be worth the wait.” Tom smiled as he brushed some hair off Lucas’s forehead.

“Okay.” Lucas said after a minute of thinking it over. “You have my permission.”

“The baby is already-“ Tom began to explain.

“Thank you.” You told Lucas. You pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheeks. Tom joined in on the hug and kissed the tops of both your heads. He was happy. Happier than when he carried you into your house after your wedding and shouted “welcome home, my Queen.” Tessa squeezed her head under Lucas’s arm and licked his cheek, making everyone giggle. The four of you sat there, hugging as a family.

“Wait.” Tom suddenly spoke, disrupting the wholesome silence. “Lucas ate a crayon?”

Tag List 🏷

@lullaby-ts @fallenpeterparker @parkeret @icetealemonade @captainmandeestudent17 @maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XXXI: Treant

There wasn’t much interesting about me. Not really. That wasn’t me being self-deprecating or anything. If anything, I quite liked being in the background. Others around me have always been more interesting, and I was happy enough just to help those others out.

That’s why I worked from childhood through my adulthood in order to become a doctor. It wasn’t like a total dream of mine, and I wasn’t sure if I’d call myself “passionate” (one of my top qualities, I think, is that I’ve been called a dispassionate person. But I shouldn’t humblebrag), but when I was in grade school and saw one of my classmates get injured, I couldn’t help but be compelled to want to help them. Then there were times, like when my sister or my mom would get sick and I’d be like “gee, I wonder what would help them get better.”

Skip past many years of boring details, and the rest is history. Got my own apartment after completing my internship at one of the nearby hospitals. When my sister helped me move in, we found a time travel device in the closet that I mistook for a Nintendo 64. It’s not as interesting of a detail as it seems. Anyway, that aside, there was still work to be had just about every day.

Skip ahead a few more years after that…

...And there was still work to be had.

It was about that time in the morning when it wasn’t yet bright and early and the coffee I poured tasted like sludge. When the showers were scalding and suffocating fumes filled the bathroom, yet when I turned off the shower, I shivered like a nudist at the north pole.

Towel was too small. Quick shimmy and I groaned and threw it in the laundry basket. No one else was around to see me naked, so whatever. Even if there was, my bedroom door was closed. On the bed were my work clothes, which in my groggy state, I tried to fit the shirt on my legs and the pants on my head. After a few tries and tired moans and groans, I got it right. Still, my tie was a little loose.

I’ll fix it on my way there. Or I won’t and I’ll just say I’m setting a new fashion trend.

I glanced down at my limited edition Kamen Rider Black wristwatch and my blood pressure spiked upon noticing the time.

“Fuck,” I cursed, though in my hoarse tiredness, it sounded more like a donkey braying.

Yes, it was ‘fucktime’, that universal concept of that time of day where one looks at the time and exclaims “fuck!” There were many reasons for cursing at a time of day, and it didn’t have to be any time in particular, but the most common reason was due to the situation I was in: I was running late for work.

In a state of fight or flight (which I am always in flight since I could use the exercise), I put a couple of bagel slices into the toaster, wished that my toaster had a turbo speed button, and paced about until those two slices popped up; they weren’t crispy enough, but they’d have to do. Like the skilled painter that I wasn’t, I swiped across the two halves of the bagel with a messy gloop of cream cheese.

No more time left.

I ran out the door, or whatever constituted as a run in my mind, with the bagel halves held tight in my mouth.

This ridiculous display persisted for about...oh, to hell with it, let’s just skip all the embarrassment. Fast forward to when I got to the hospital, drenched in sweat and cream cheese on the cuff of my shirt.

“Ran late again?” The receptionist, I think her name was Wormwood, looked up from her computer. Her thick brown hair was in a bun and she didn’t just have bags under her eyes, but bags under those bags. That’s okay, I’ve had those days as well. From the reflection of her glasses, it looked like she was playing an intense game of Tetris.

“A doctor is never early nor late,” I huffed, trying to sound more self-assured than my short breath would allow.

“Yeah, you wish. Go change your shirt. You’ve got a patient waiting for you in room 413,” she clucked. Was clucked the right descriptor? Well, it was a vague chicken-like tone, so cluck was good enough.

“Why’s it always patients with me?” I joked. She didn’t so much as give a half-hearted chuckle. She could have at least said, “A for effort,” but I guess everyone was a critic. I hurried over to the hospital’s resident dry cleaner, who always had a spare pair of uniforms, scrubs, nice shirts, you name it. Our dry cleaner guy was a typical average dude with stringy red hair, named Marion or something. He always had that strung out look about him that gave the impression that he was pretty trustworthy. I showed him the cream cheese on my shirt and he made an OK sign with both hands, closed his eyes, and shook his head.

“Say no more,” he assured me in the most endearing bored-out-of-your-mind voice imaginable.

As I waited for him to grab me a spare shirt, I looked up and saw a couple of green scrubs hanging around.

“I can’t do this on my own. I’m no superman,” I hummed the tune. Marion (that might not have been his name, but it was pretty damn close to what I imagine his name was) turned and asked, “what?”

“You know, Scrubs? It’s a reference.”

“Oh, man, I don’t know the first thing about references,” he bemoaned in both a disinterested tone and a disoriented one.

Man, nobody appreciates a good reference these days.

After I received my change of shirt, I went into the nearest bathroom and speedran the Trent Dress Up game. Not to brag, but I might have set a new record that day. Okay. Moving on.

Up four flights of stairs I lumbered up, each foot dragged behind the other. Yes, I could have used the elevator, but then that wouldn’t have been very doctor-like of me, would it? I mean, plenty of doctors took the elevator, and there was nothing wrong with that, but I always tried to do healthy things. It didn’t really matter much, I mean, I was already healthy, I was just a little chubby, was all. So what? I was a big ol’ teddy bear in a lab coat. At least I rocked the look.

Twelve rooms down. Then the thirteenth: that was where I heard the assistant.

“Dr. Bark will see you now,” the assistant informed the patient. After she left, which I didn’t really get a good look at, but I’ve probably worked with her before, I opened the door and greeted the patient.

“Woof, woof!” I made my best dog voice, which probably sounded closer to a howler monkey than a dog.

My patient just looked at me, not amused in the slightest. He was an elderly man who looked like a bad caricature of an elderly man. Not one of the kind ones, either. No, more like the grumpy kind who would yell at you if you so much as lived in the general vicinity of the same neighborhood he lived in. Then again, I knew looks could be deceiving and if anything, his face was probably contorted in pain.

“Okay, so I’m not that clown doctor, but if you honk my nose, I will still make a sound,” I gave a nervous laugh as I said. He just continued to stare at me.

It turned out that he had a small seizure just as I entered the room. Lovely timing, really.

Before I could take a break and have some lunch, there were a few more fun moments, gross moments, sad moments, silly moments, the whole gamut. Really, I loved my job because there were many opportunities to treat others and get them to better health. But also I hated my job because it was a job and I hated being the bearer of big bills due to the malicious concept of private insurance.

My sister-in-law was always going on about how I should be more ambitious. How I could try to start my own clinic and treat people for free, out of the kindness of my heart. Which I loved, that really was a dream if I ever had one. But there was the matter of means. Equipment costs money, I’d need more space, I’d have to get all those good prescription drugs that all the cool cats liked. I wasn’t even sure if I could do it, legally.

But hey, if it were possible, I’d do it. For sure. Maybe.

Once I made it to the hospital’s cafeteria, I grabbed a lobster salad with a garlic roll and a pink lady apple for an extra layer of irony. It was ironic because no matter how many times I ate one of those, I could never keep myself away from the hospital. Shame, too. The busier I was, the less time I had to play Monster Hunter.

Anyway, as I looked for a place to sit, I hummed a tune I heard over the radio.

“Don’t call my name, don’t call my name, Alejandro. Fernando,” I hummed. Or rather, mumbled. Because I knew for a fact that I said those words out loud, whether or not I should have saved myself the embarrassment.

“Yes?” Crooned the seductive and husky toned voice of a man I didn’t recognize. I looked around, then noticed that the owner of such a voice was seated all by his lonesome at a table in the middle of the cafeteria.

Oh good, finally a table that’s not crowded.

I made the no-brainer decision to sit across from him at the table. His head sported a vast field of curly black hair as well as the stubble-laden remnants of a rugged black mustache. He reminded me of the guy from that Just Cause series of games, though not sure why, as I’ve never played them, though I had to admit, grappling hooks were pretty cool.

“Did you say something?” I stared into his inviting rosemary colored eyes. Mostly because I felt it rude if I didn’t. Imagine if someone did that to me, just looked away when they spoke to me. Actually, that’s probably happened many times.

“You said my name,” he replied, more plain this time, without as much of a soothing effect, but no less friendly.

“Oh? Alejandro?” I blinked, unaware that I had said anyone’s name.

“No, Fernando, but you may call me Fern. Everyone does,” he smiled as he told me, a smile as soothing as his voice could be.

“Well, I certainly wanna do what everyone else is doing,” I chuckled. “I’m Trent, by the way.”

He gave a slow nod.

“What a beautiful name. Do you know who does the song that you were singing?”

Oh god, if ever there was a time to be embarrassed.

“I just heard the song on the radio! I don’t know anything about it, I just thought it was kinda catchy.”

“I’ll give you a hint: it starts with ‘Lady’.”

Fuck. I was bad at guessing games.

“Lady and the Tramp?”

“No.”

“Lady Marmaduke?”

“No. You have three more guesses.”

Wait. He never said I had a limit of five. Now I was really feeling the pressure.

“Lady Groudon?”

“Close.”

Oh! Now I knew what it was!

“Lady Goomy!”

“...No, not quite. But really close.”

Damn. I only had one guess left, too. The heat was really on now.

“Lady Gloop?”

He bit his lip trying to hold back laughter, but couldn’t, and it all came flooding out.

“Um, did I win?” I wasn’t sure what to make of that laughter, but I had to know. I just HAD to know.

After he settled down, he shook his head and with an aching calm assured me:

“It’s not important.”

“Well, what is important, then?” I grimaced, the answer not given to me.

“The lives of our patients are what’s important.”

Yeah, that seemed a little obvious, though, considering our professions and all. Actually, I wasn’t quite sure whether he was a doctor or not. I didn’t recall ever working with him.

“What do you do here, by the way?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I’m a nurse, mi amor.”

Once he said that, everything clicked into place.

“No wonder you’ve got that gentle voice,” I observed.

“I don’t have to be gentle if you don’t want me to be.”

“No, no,” I shook my head. “For the sake of the patients, I think you ought to be.”

We went back and forth after that, chatting about this and that, though nothing really important. Really, it was nice, I didn’t usually chat with anyone. Afterward, however, it was back to the grind. Oh joy.

Once said day one was done, I flopped on home and collapsed on my sofa. Next to me was a controller, and I had bought my copy of Final Fantasy XVI the other day, but haven’t had a chance to play it.

“My body...too feeble…” I wheezed out the words as my hands shook trying to reach for the controller. Just as it seemed like the controller was within my grasp, my phone rang.

When there was something in closer proximity than the item that I really wanted, the natural urge was to reach for the one in closer proximity instead.

“Hey Trent. It’s me,” came the sudden and to the point tone of my sister-in-law: Vesuvius.

“Oh, hey. What’s up?” I snapped to my senses and sat right up. “Is everything okay? Nothing too serious, I hope.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’ve got a nice little apartment with my beautiful wife. I just haven’t spoken to you in a while and wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Oh, what a relief. I was worried you were having another mental health episode.”

“Hey! I don’t go around pointing out the time you had food poisoning, do I?” She scolded. Yeah, okay. That was fair.

She didn’t have many mental health episodes, but ever since that incident with her and Juniper’s stalkers, she had been more sensitive and more on edge. That said, I really was happy for her and that she was at peace.

“You’re right. God, that was a rough time. Who knew blueberries could be so poisonous?”

“All things in nature can,” she stated. Gee, if anyone knew that, it would’ve been her.

“How are all things with settling into the apartment?” I asked. She hadn’t been there long, but it was a bold step for her, considering her social anxiety, which she tried to act like she didn’t have.

“You know, it’s an adjustment. It gets lonely when Juniper isn’t home. I’m not used to her having anything resembling a job. I hate to sound possessive, but I don’t like that she has one. I wish we didn’t have to make money to live.”

“Be as possessive as you want,” I chuckled. “Er...within reason. Say, have you saved up for anything?”

“No. Why?”

“Well, you always go on about wanting to do that whole ‘cottagecore’ lifestyle thing. So maybe you could save for that and go for it?”

She drew a deep breath, as if she were about to blow a gust of wind out of every orifice.

“First off, I don’t know what a ‘cottagecore’ is, but I’m cautious around anything with the suffix of -core. You know I’m a delicate flower.”

“And a poisonous one,” I pointed out.

“Yes, well, poisonous flowers can be delicate. And hey! Be nice to me!”

I coughed up a chuckle.

“Okay, well, second off,” she continued. “What I want is to live off the land, in a field of flowers. Growing my own field. Having peace and quiet in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah, that’s cottagecore.”

“Don’t say words I don’t understand to me!” She scolded. “It’s really demeaning.”

“Okay, okay,” I tried to settle down with the teasing. “But for real, it’s not like it’s impossible. Juniper could build a house, she likes making things.” Then again, she probably wouldn’t build a house very well, but I’m sure she’d enjoy the attempt. “It may take a bit of money for the resources, but it’s not like it’s impossible.”

“Yeah, well, first thing’s first is I want to see a therapist. Like, an actual therapist.”

“Oh, that could be good for you.”

“Yeah…” Her voice trailed, and the tone of her voice shifted to a more mournful one. “I still remember how I was during that time. I have trouble believing that it’s really over. All of that pain lingers with me. It’s not something I wish to remember, but it’s something I’m unable to forget.”

“Don’t beat yourself up too bad,” I tried to reassure her. I assumed she was referring to the whole stalker incident that occurred at the same time she dealt with her mental health episode. “Everyone has a breaking point. There’s nothing to be ashamed of there.”

“No, but there is. I was confused. Desperate. I hurt the most important person in my life. I hurt someone else that I could have helped. That I could have saved. If I had just known how. If my mind was more clear back then,” her voice shifted into a growl. “I hate it. I hate inflicting pain. Especially because it’s not who I want to be. No who I am anymore,” her voice then grew sharper. Harsher. “Yet I can’t help but feel like it’s still with me, buried somewhere, and I just want to punch a wall, rip my hair out, something! Something to cut this off from me!”

“Hey, hey,” I could tell she was working herself up. “You and Juniper are both sensitive people. Sometimes people lash out when their emotions are heightened. It doesn’t mean you’re bad or anything, but you can work on it. For what it’s worth, I do think you two are good together.”

“Thank you,” her voice quieted back to the mournful tone it was at first and I could hear sniffling and weeping in the background. “I’m sorry. I told myself I would keep composed and yet I went off into that rant. Gee, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re a better therapist than the one I pretended to be.”

“Heh. It’s nothing. You’ve definitely been through a lot. Get yourself some tea or something, that might help.”

“Thanks,” she sniffled again. “What about you? Is there anything new with you?”

“Eh. Same ol’ boring stuff at the hospital. People get sick and die, some people get better.”

“To which?” She let out a weak chuckle.

“Oh, definitely the sick part. I’ve yet to someone get better from being dead, but anything can happen. Fingers crossed, right?”

“Heh…so there’s nothing new at all? What about at the house? I bet you’re glad to have Juniper and I out of your hair.”

“Eh. You guys weren’t that bad to deal with.”

“That’s a relief. Do you miss us?”

“Hmm...a bit. It’s a bit quiet now, but I like it. Means I can play video games in peace and walk around the apartment in my underwear.”

“Indeed, that is a positive. Though I didn’t need to hear the last part.”

I tried to think about anything of substance I could actually talk about.

“Oh! I met someone new at the hospital today! This nurse named Fern. He’s got these beautiful murky green eyes and maze-like curly dark hair. Oh, and his mustache. I bet I’d be ticklish if it rubbed against me,” I announced with a sense of excitement at the prospect of actually having something to say.

“Are you attracted to this Fern person?” She inquired.

While I didn’t quite know where she got that idea from, I wasn’t going to say that he was ugly or anything like that.

“I’m certainly not repelled by him,” I joked. Heh. Magnets. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, since you described him in such exquisite detail.”

“Eh. Isn’t it normal to describe people you talk about?”

“Not in my experience. Not like that, anyway. But hey, what do I know?”

“Yeah, well, I just met him today, so I doubt I’ll describe him every time I talk about him. He seems nice, in any case. Hey, maybe the four of us could play D&D together sometime?” I perked up at the prospect of having someone else to play D&D with. That was the most important thing about meeting someone. If not D&D, maybe I could gush about 80s Sci-Fi movies or J-RPGs.

“I don’t know...that game always brings out the worst in me...I try to be a healer but whenever I encounter a monster I just want to grind them into dust and then I curse the fact that I didn’t pick a class like barbarian.”

“Heh. That is a problem. You could always just be a barbarian.”

“No. I don’t want to,” I could tell she stuck her nose up just by her tone of voice alone.

“In any case, we gotta get this going on! We never seem to finish a campaign!” I was SO pumped to get this thing going on.

“That’s because I always either quit out of frustration or you end up too busy and we decide to start over from a new campaign as soon as you have free time again,” she pointed out. At least she was honest.

“We’ll figure something out, I’m sure!”

“Mm...well, it was nice talking with you, Trent. I’m glad you seem to be doing well, and good luck with this Fern person.”

“Thanks! You take care too! Bye!”

We hung up and I spent the rest of the day being an exhausted nerdy Trenty bear who somehow did nothing yet time still passed.

As the days went by, I’d spend lunch having conversations with Fern and he said I could talk about whatever I was passionate about, so OF COURSE a bunch of nerdy shit came up.

“About halfway through the game, she dies, but you can get her final limit break later on. This is a way to show that she’s still with the party in spirit and the party keeps it as a memento, even though they know they cannot use it, OR they refuse to use it to honor her memory.”

“I see. And it’s not just the developers making a mistake?” Fern pondered. The gall.

“No way. Game developers wouldn’t just do that. In fact, you can hack the game to make it so Aerith lives, by coming back after she dies, but she’ll say at a certain point, ‘I’m not supposed to be here’. That’s because the developers knew that players would try to bring her back, so they were prepared.”

“Wow. That really is haunting,” he looked moved by my explanation. As he should be.

“The game devs were also brilliant for making her and Cloud be besties instead of a romantic interest. There’s a part where Cloud and Aerith go on a date on a ferris wheel and right before they go on the ferris wheel, Aerith turns to cloud and goes ‘wa...wassup homie?’ and Cloud says, ‘golly gee’ in response. By having them be besties, it shows the importance of friendships over romantic relationships. It’s actually shown in a prequel that Cloud had a boyfriend named Zack, but despite it being canon, many fans prefer to act like the game doesn’t exist.”

“That’s a wonderful message for them to show,” he nodded along.

“Yeah. So anyway, Zack dies in the prequel.”

“Damn. This Cloud guy just can’t catch a break.”

Before I was able to continue the conversation further, I received a beep on my pager.

“...And neither can I. I gotta split.”

That was how our typical conversations went. I did most of the talking while he stared and smiled the whole way through. Most of the time, I didn’t mind that, but it also meant that I didn’t know much about him. He hardly seemed like the mysterious type, and I should’ve known the mysterious type due to the people I’ve let in my apartment in the past.

So the next chance we got I decided I’d hold nothing back. We both sat together, once again with our lunches in front of us, and I popped the question:

“Do you have any siblings?” I was casual as I asked him, plain as day with an egg and lettuce sandwich in my hands. He tilted his head and rested it on his palm, looking even more radiant than usual.

“Why yes. I have four sisters. Two of them are engaged. One of them’s married. The fourth one is still looking for love.”

“Oh wow,” I replied. “You know, you could tell her that she doesn’t have to find love. It’s not the be-all and end-all, after all.”

“I think she already knows that. Still, she wouldn’t mind the experience. What about you, Trent?” He spoke my name with such a delicacy that it made my heart tackle the walls of my chest.

“Uh, yeah,” I stammered. “I’ve got a sister. I don’t even know why you mentioned relationships since I just asked about siblings, but she’s in one. I mean, she’s married, so I guess I’ve also got a sister-in-law. If that counts as another sibling, then I’ve got two sisters, maybe?”

He coughed up a chuckle against his fist.

“Love is a beautiful thing, isn’t it?”

I shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess it can be.”

For some reason that simple exchange reminded me of an early memory when Juniper and I were kids and we shared a room, bunk beds, in fact.

She hung upside down from the edge of the top bunk of the bed. I always did tell her to be careful, but she never was good at listening to me.

“Hey bro, bro, bruh, bruv,” she pestered me.

“What is it?” I looked up from the book I was reading.

She held down a magazine with pictures of women in hiking gear.

“Look! Aren’t those girls cute? Aren’t they your type?” She pressed it up to my face. Or as well up to my face as she could. Her aim wasn’t the best when she hung upside down. Nevertheless, I took a glance. Of course, as I was more interested in the book I was reading, I didn’t really pay attention.

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

Not satisfied, she grew in intensity.

“Come on! You didn’t look!”

“Yeah I did!” I shot back. “I’m just more interested in this book right now! You have no idea how cool the Shannara novels are!” Oh, but I wasn’t done. “Also, I’m pretty sure those are your type, not mine!”

She stuck her tongue out.

“What even is your type?” She teased.

I shrugged. Really, I didn’t know then, and even into my 30s, as a doctor, I had no idea if I even had a type. For anyone. After a pause, she then asked.

“Do you think you’d ever have a crush on anyone?”

I gave it some thought. Then, as if it was a no brainer, it clicked.

“If someone was actually interested in me, sure! But c’mon, I’m a nerd. You know how hard it is for people like me.”

She scowled at that.

“That’s just a myth. That shouldn’t stop you.”

She was right. Both back then, and in the present, if she were to tell me that again. But over the years, I grew to have a different excuse.

“Would you ever be open to the idea of love?” Fern’s question brought me out of the memory, back to the moment that I shared with him.

I shrugged.

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind. If the opportunity were to occur. But then, I’m always too busy to think about things like that, so it’s never really crossed my mind. I’m sure you can relate, seeing as you’re probably about as busy as I am.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “But it has its advantages.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Like how we can spend the same amount of time together.”

Oh yeah. That was a really good point.

“Heh. It is nice to have someone to chat with,” I agreed.

It was a surprise how little time had passed, but I was glad for it. Considering how unpredictable this job could be, I had to be thankful for any precious minutes I got.

“Let’s not worry about that. If we run out of time, we can pick it up another day. So what do you say?”

“So tell me, how did your sister meet her lover?” His curiosity took me by surprise. Not something I thought would be worth asking, but who was I to say what someone did and didn’t find interesting?

All right. So I told him. It seemed he just had that kind of effect on me.

Maybe it was a little cliché, I don’t know, because I don’t know what constitutes as cliché, but it was a rainy evening. I had just gotten off work, I had my umbrella, but it seemed to do me little good as there was a mighty gust of wind and the rain just slid down the umbrella and managed to force itself onto my jacket.

On the way home, I took a shortcut through a side street. I guess it was like an alleyway, but more open. I don’t know, side street sounds appropriate. Curled up underneath the cover of a building’s awning was a homeless woman, a single orange striped blanket over her, damp. Her hair seemed covered in dirt, she shivered, but made no attempt to voice her discomfort. I couldn’t quite make out her face, but maybe it was pity that brought me to pay attention to her in the first place.

Yeah, typical “boy meets girl” story, huh?

At last, she looked up and croaked. Despite facing me, her face seemed to droop low and she looked downtrodden.

“You got money?”

I jumped. Startled. Yeah, not too dignified, but I really just didn’t expect for her to notice me. Once I composed myself, I dug through my jacket pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill.

“Here, it’s not much, but it’s what I got on me.”

“Thanks,” she replied and took it. No more than that. Of course, if that was the extent of the exchange, there wouldn’t really be anything to tell, now would there?

“Hey, I know it’s late, but there’s a cafe close by we can visit if you want a coffee or something. They’re not open forever, but it’ll keep you dry for a little while,” I offered.

She looked up again, scowled.

“I don’t trust strangers,” she stated.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. I’m a stranger, you’re a stranger. I get that,” I chuckled. “I just figured I’d offer, but you can decline. If you’re worried about me being someone dangerous, you can punch me. I’m not really interested in being cruel or violent or anything like that.”

She squinted. I would later find out that was less because of how ridiculous she may have thought me and more because she had poor eyesight.

“Are you that desperate that you would ask a homeless person out on a date?” Her biting remark might have gotten under the skin of just about anyone else, but I’ve probably heard much worse from some of my patients. Instead, I laughed.

“You don’t have to think of it as a date. I don’t. I’m not really the dating type, anyway. It’s just a spur of the moment thing.”

She shifted eyes, turned her head from left to right, then looked back up on me.

“I can’t believe I’m going to agree to this…but sure,” she heaved out the words.

“Cool,” I stuck my thumb out, then continued, “it’s just a couple of blocks away. I really like the place, since I sometimes don’t get off work until real late and it’s open past midnight.”

“I don’t care...when it’s open...but I could use something warm...to drink,” she sounded lightheaded, in a daze.

Once we made our way through the door of the dim lit cafe with neon lighting, she wiped her shoes on the mat.

Oh. What good manners, I thought. As someone who often forgot to wipe their shoes when entering places, it was a nice reminder to see someone else do so. At least I remembered to put my umbrella down, but that kinda went without saying.

As soon as I approached the counter, I turned to her, still drenched.

“Don’t worry about the cost. Order whatever you like,” I assured her. After I said those words, she looked up, squinted, then closed her eyes.

“I would like a lavender mocha latte, but no dairy. Almond milk if you have it. Coconut would be even better. Give four extra shots of espresso, and if you have dark chocolate syrup, use that.”

Damn. It was like she had the whole thing recited and ready to go. All right.

“I’ll just take a black coffee,” I shrugged. I didn’t need all the sugar or any of that extra stuff.

“Oh. I should have went with that too,” she looked down, possibly embarrassed at her order.

I laughed.

“Don’t worry, I said you could order whatever. My treat.”

She made her way to the table nearest to the window, and took the seat closest to the window as well. As soon as she sat down, she lowered her head onto the table and her arms outstretched to cover her head. Behind her, raindrops slid down the window. It wasn’t much an interesting sight, but I wasn’t a very observant person, so I felt I ought to have taken note of something.

“Just so you know, you should probably forget about me after this,” she uttered and despite her words being muffled, I could still make her words out clear as a river.

“If you want,” I shrugged.

“I’m serious. You shouldn’t associate with me. There’s people after me. I’d rather not get anyone involved.”

I pondered if there was any validity to that. Maybe she ran from an ex, or there was some trafficking ring. That last bit was a little dark. As a middle ground, I thought that maybe she had run off from home as a kid (surprisingly, that part was sort of true, in a sense).

“You probably think I’m crazy. Paranoid, even. I get it. Some homeless woman tells you there’s people after her. You don’t have to believe me. Just so you know, I’m homeless by choice. It’s easier this way. You don’t have to believe that, either.”

“Well, if you’re on the run, maybe it’s not by choice?” I suggested.

She looked up, her face still semi-buried in her arms. Still, I could make out eyes through her bangs. Grayish-purple bags under her eyes, but eyes nonetheless.

“Yeah. You’re probably right. It’s been so long, it’s hard to tell anymore. My head won’t cooperate,” she seemed to agree with my assessment, and as if to confirm as much, she lifted her head up and rubbed her forehead with her palm. With one eye visible, she glared at me.

“Just so you know, even if you considered this a date, I wouldn’t be interested. I’m…” she looked around, then stated, “men don’t interest me.”

I chuckled.

“It’s okay. My sister’s a lesbian. You don’t really have to beat around the bush about it.”

Her eyes widened, then squinted again.

“I don’t know why you would tell me that. I’m not interested. My main focus is my survival, it’s just…” She began to glance to her side and down at the floor. “I’ve been running and hiding so long, I’m growing tired. Sooner or later, I might just give up. It’s a terrible thought, but I don’t think I can go on.”

My concern began to grow, even if I didn’t know the scope of her problem.

“I don’t really know what it is you’re dealing with, but you don’t have to deal with it alone.”

“No. I refuse to endanger anyone else,” she seemed adamant about that.

Maybe she was justified, but in a selfish way, that also made me want to help more.

“You can refuse if you want, but the weather forecast says it’s going to be raining over the next few days. I’ve got a spare room in my apartment you can stay in. If nothing else, it’ll keep you dry.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” she looked away once more.

“You wouldn’t be. I’m the one that offered,” I shrugged, a favorite gesture of mine.

“Well...maybe my head is just messed up enough right now, but...fine. As long as I reserve the right to leave at any time.”

“Of course,” I assured her, and I even lifted a feeble smile. Once our coffee was brought over, mine a regular paper coffee cup, hers a ceramic cup filled to the top, we drank in silence. Between intervals of me sipping the bitter bean, I peeked over and noticed how she held onto her cup with a sort of elegance; one hand on the handle, the other grasping the base of the cup, and slow sips taken, not a single slurp to be heard. It was probably a little weird of me to pick up on something like that, I admit.

“I’m Trent, by the way,” I told her out of courtesy. Depending on how long she’d stay, I felt it wise to tell her my name.

“Et...err...Vesuvius. You can call me Vesuvius. Or Ves. I don’t care which,” her eyes shifted and she stammered out the words.

After we finished our coffee, we headed out, umbrella up and ready to go. There wasn’t a long walk ahead of us, and she was silent the whole way through. Not that I tried to make small talk anyway, since the rain was kind of gloomy weather for conversation. She walked with a slump, something I should have warned her to be cautious about, lest she get a hunchback. Maybe she did so because she felt she was too tall to fit under the umbrella, or maybe she had been under such duress for so long that standing up straight no longer registered to her.

Before long, we made our way inside and I showed her to where the spare room was. She didn’t speak a word, not so much as a nod, just went inside. Before I closed the door, I told her, “if you need anything, just let me know. I’ll be down the hall and to your left.”

Still, no acknowledgment. That was fine. Just as long as she heard me. For whatever reason, it didn’t register until after I closed the door that I didn’t have anything like an air mattress or a futon for her to sleep on. That room was bare, empty. Not a single item to be found.

Despite that, I was too tired to do anything rational like look for some spare blankets or pillows, and decided it was high time for me to get some rest. At the very least, I turned the heater on and let it run. It wasn’t something I liked to do, and I didn’t think Juniper would be all that comfortable with it on, but screw it, I was the one who paid the bills.

“Well, time for me to get some shut eye,” I announced, thinking there was no one around who could hear me. However, I soon noticed from the corner of my eye a foam basketball being tossed up into the air.

“Who’s the babe?” Juniper, asked in a rather dull voice. I soon turned and saw her laying on the couch, flat on her back.

“Don’t be disrespectful,” I scolded. “I found her on the street. She’s just going to stay over for a few nights.”

“So now you’re picking up homeless chicks?”

Really, maybe she was just moody ‘cause she was tired, or maybe she just felt like giving me a hard time that night in particular.

“I just felt like doing a good deed, there’s nothing behind it,” I corrected her. Again.

“That’s rather nice of you. Just make sure not to overexert yourself. Your health is important too,” she reminded.

“Thanks.”

I thought I could just go to bed, but then a smile which signified mischief spread across her face.

“So, tell me about the babe,” she wouldn’t drop it so soon.

“Oh, come on,” I groaned.

“C’mon, the babe.”

“No,” I folded my arms on my hips. If she could nudge me from where she was at, she would have.

“You remind me of the babe,” her cheery voice returned, coupled with a sing-song tone.

“What babe?” I finally gave in.

“The babe with the power.”

“What power?”

“Power of voodoo!”

“Who do?”

“You do!”

“Do what?”

“Remind me of the babe! Ha ha ha!” she kicked around the couch and laughed. There were certain nights where I could just tell when she watched Labyrinth that day.

“Okay, okay, don’t stay up too late,” I reminded her. “You know where your room is.”

“Yeah, yeah. ‘Night.”

Ah, Labyrinth. Classic. David Bowie and his tights. Things didn’t get much better than that.

Somehow I managed to tell him all of that with time to spare.

“You have a big heart, Trent,” he told me, which kinda made me want to sulk.

“Yeah...I do try to have a good diet, though,” I pouted.

“No, no, I mean metaphorically,” he patted the air as he spoke, a sure sign of sincerity.

“You mean…?” I stared into his earthen rosemary colored eyes.

“Yes. You are very kind.”

“Oh, phew. For a second there I was worried you meant my weight.”

“No, no. Dear. You are adorable. When I first saw you that fateful day, I said to myself, ‘this is an adorable teddy bear’. I would never have anything unkind to say to a teddy bear.”

“Well, thank you. Does that mean I’m a cuddly looking teddy bear?” I let slip my curiosity.

“I’d have to find that one out for myself. Hey, your story about your sister’s wife got me thinking. How would you like to go out for coffee after work?”

Gee, the possibility never even occurred to me, but it was so simple. Of course.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. I’m pretty sure the place is still open.”

“And,” he leaned in a little closer. “May I consider it a date?”

I laughed a little at that.

“If you’d like to.”

“And,” a little closer still. “Would you consider it one?”

That time, my heart went “boing boing” against my chest. I didn’t know the answer to that one. It was too much being put on the spot, I was used to the attention being on other people.

“Um...not no, but maybe yes...I’m not sure…” Came my disgraceful blabbering until I managed to catch myself and re-compose. “Er...I’m not used to thinking about things for myself...but...sure. You’re a pretty cool guy. Let’s consider it a coffee date.”

So we did. Just a few nights later, after work we walked into the parking lot. He had a motorcycle, with enough of a seat for me to fit in the back. It wasn’t awkward in the slightest and in fact, it played out much the same as many of our conversations at lunch before. It all felt natural between us, like trees. He ordered an oregano tea latte and I had my usual black coffee.

As if by miracle, the sun had yet to set and there wasn’t the slightest hint of rain. We sat across from each other and immersed ourselves in the ambiance of the hums and smooth glitchtunes playing on the coffee shop’s speakers.

“So, if I were to come over to your place tonight, would I see your sister and her wife?” He posed the hypothetical question.

“Nah, they both moved out almost a year ago. They’ve got their own apartment somewhere else in the city, though they’re also saving up to move elsewhere again.”

“So soon?” He tilted his head.

“Well, it’s a dream of Ves’ to live in a field of flowers, open nature, all that stuff. Psychedelic drugs, flowers in hair, tie-dye, I could go on. Juniper’s already found a place a couple of states out, and she found an old beat up pick up truck in a ditch and decided to repair it just for fun. So now all they gotta do is assemble the wood, get some electric lining, plumbing, all that stuff. Which...I don’t have a lot of faith in my sister, she’s no architect or electrician, but she’s the type who gets insistent about doing everything herself, so it’s not like I could talk her out of it.”

“That’s great, though! They’re pursuing their passion. Isn’t that beautiful?”

I shrugged.

“I dunno if ‘beautiful’ is the word I’d use, but yeah. I suppose I’m happy for them.”

“What about you? Do you have any goals?” His eyes fluttered, almost like he wanted to lull me to sleep.

“Sorta, but it’s kinda dumb? I just don’t like the whole ‘charged ten thousand dollars as soon as you walk in and good luck getting your overpriced insurance that you can barely afford, if afford at all, to cover anything’ so I was thinking how it would be cool if I could run my own clinic. I don’t know, maybe it could be funded through donations, but in no way would people have to pay. Like, I doubt I’d be able to do the big stuff like surgeries or transplants, but it’s still something, right? Thing is, that’s kinda impossible, don’cha think?”

Rather than some kind of agreement, he reacted in a rather ferocious manner: he stood up, leaned over, and slammed his hands on the table.

“Trent,” while his voice grew in intensity, it certainly didn’t sound angry. More...motivating. “You must never be afraid of your passion.”

“Uh...okay…” I scratched my cheek. “But what about you? What are you passionate about?”

He sat back down.

“You. Of course,” he answered, so simple, so straightforward in his delivery.

“So, like, does that mean you’d want to play D&D with me sometime?”

He laughed.

“I’d love to.”

“Really? Are you sure? What if you don’t like it? I mean, I don’t even know what your hobbies are.”

“If I end up not liking it, then at least I’ll have found that out for myself. But all of your hobbies, everything that interest you, I want to immerse myself in. Because all of you...is my hobby.”

“Bro…” I leaned forward. “That’s kind of...uh...cool!”

“Oh, and I also like to ride around on my motorcycle. I like watching the sunsets, going hiking, mountain climbing, kayaking, and making ceramic cups.”

Hiking, mountain climbing, kayaking...he sure looked fit. Not to mention, those things sounded like fun, even if possibly dangerous.

“Do you think I could do those things with you?” I asked, hesitant, but I figured if he was wanting to do the things I liked, I may as well ask him in return.

“Of course. You can do whatever you want with me.”

“Then in that case, can I kiss you?” I joked, though it seemed to come out of nowhere. However much I meant it, it was out in the open now.

“Of course. Would you like to do it here, or at your apartment?”

“Err...at my apartment?”

To be honest, I’ve never kissed anyone before. Or been kissed by anyone before. That thought never even crossed my mind and I pretty much figured I’d be fine not having such a thought and continuing on with my life, but dominoes were falling or something like that.

“Let’s go, then,” he stood up and motioned for me to head toward the door. In a hurry, I chugged down my coffee.

I should probably brush my teeth first. Coffee breath probably isn’t a good taste. Then again, would he want to brush his teeth. Should we just use the same toothbrush? Or maybe he packed one with him.

When we shoved our way through the door of my apartment, those questions were erased from my mind.

“I’ve actually never kissed anyone before...I know, in my thirties and…” he put his finger on my lips and made a “shh” sound.

“Relax. I’ll take the lead,” he lowered his hand, then leaned down and spread his lips against mine. As he released, I wished that he hadn’t. But then the thought of my breath returned to the front of my mind.

“Sorry, uh, hope my breath doesn’t bother you.”

“Does it bother you?” He asked.

“Well…it’s probably good to take care of your teeth. I’m not a dentist, but I do think good health is important in all aspects of one’s health and --”

He pulled out a box of mint chews.

“Here,” he opened the box. I took a couple and popped them into my mouth. On instinct, I bit down on them and chewed, despite knowing that I wouldn’t be prepared for the icy hellfire that was the minty taste. After a couple of seconds of huffing, I looked back at him.

“Okay, I’m good now.”

“There is one more interest I have now,” he decided to pick back up from our conversation at the coffee shop for some final choice words.

“Yeah? What would that be?”

“Supporting you and your dreams.”

Then we kissed again.

So flashforward a year or so and through some sort of miracle, such a dream was realized: we converted the apartment into a clinic and moved upstairs to the apartment directly above. Both of us quit our jobs at the hospital so we could focus on the clinic. Really, I couldn’t have done it without him. Or, maybe I could have, but I’d like to think he gave me that sort of push, y’know? That little “oomf.”

There were many improvements that could have been made, and might be made as time went on, but I liked seeing the genuine attempt to help, and the look on people’s faces when they knew they wouldn’t have to worry about cost...worth it. What’s more, people donated freely, and often. We met several people around the community and even convinced some to play D&D with us. I think the biggest surprise was how much of a hit the game was with the elderly.

Oh, and also, Fern and I became boyfriends. Not really sure how that happened, but it did and I’m cool with it.

On one particular slow day, an interesting thing happened: see, it had been a while since any strange people walked through my door. After a streak of Ves, Blanc, and that weird stalker lady my sister hugged, I figured I’d see the last of any weirdness. In fact, I never even thought to tell Fern about any of the weird visitors (besides Ves, of course). But then as I was doing a solo hunt against deviljo in Monster Hunter on my PC in my office, Fern ran into my office.

“Hey Trent, dear, there’s someone outside the front door saying she’s your cousin,” he informed me. I looked up, a little perplexed.

“I have relatives?” I asked, even though it might have seemed like a pretty dumb thing to say.

Never mind the dumbness, I stopped what I was doing and rushed toward the door only to find a short lady with blonde hair who looked to be in her 20s.

“Hello, can I help you?” I asked her.

“It’s me, your cousin. Demetria?” She folded her arms and scowled.

It took a few seconds to click, and then I remembered.

“Ohhh. You were at my sister’s wedding. I think. Probably.”

“Yeah, I probably most definitely was,” she turned her head and spat on the ground.

Fern stood beside me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“Who might this be?” He asked.

“Fern,” I gestured to Demetria. “This is apparently my cousin, Demetria. Demetria, this is Fern, my receptionist-slash-boyfriend.”

“You make me sick,” Demetria growled in response.

“What?” I blinked, and I was quite surprised to hear such a thing. “Are you homophobic?”

“No, I’m not homophobic, I just can’t believe you’re dating someone named after a tree! You were supposed to be the chosen one! You could have broken the cycle!”

That was an odd thing to focus on, but good to know it wasn’t too serious.

“It’s short for Fernando, actually, and technically, Ferns aren’t trees,” Fern explained to her.

“All right, buster,” she pointed up. “But you’re on thin-fucking-ice!”

Then she turned to me.

“Also, grats on being gay, I guess. That’s kinda cool,” she eased up her abrasive tone.

“Well, I might be bi. I don’t know. I haven’t been interested in women before, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be interested in any women. I think the real question we need to ask is, is it gay to be in a relationship with another man?” I suggested. Demetria just looked at Fern, who then looked at me.

“Yeah,” they both said at the same time.

“Well, in any case, what can I do for you, Demetria?” I shifted focus.

“Right. I need you to tell me where Juniper lives.”

“What for?”

“So I can go live with them. Why else?”

That was an odd thing to want to do, and I didn’t even think Juniper and Ves would agree to such a...oh, who was I kidding? Juniper was that kind of person.

“Right. Uh...I guess there’s no harm. I’ll write down their address for you. You got a way to get there?”

She shook her head.

“I make it up as I go. I got here just fine, didn’t I?”

Yeah, that was a good point.

I pulled out my notepad from my shirt pocket as well as a pen and scribbled down the address. After I handed it to her, she squinted and scowled.

“Shit. How am I supposed to read this chicken scratch?”

Right. Doctor.

“Here, I’ll just spell it out for you, so you can just type it in the notepad app on your phone or whatever you have.”

“Oh, great. More work for me to do,” she grimaced, but pulled out her phone and pressed the power button.

“Let’s see...a few missed calls from my mom. Typical. Also, a text from Ray. ‘If you ever consider coming back here, don’t. I don’t want to see you again.’ Gee, wasn’t planning on going back there, but good to see I’m not wanted. Typical...oh, here we go. Notepad.”

I didn’t really know what that bit was about, but I wasn’t about to pry. Wasn’t my business. As soon as I told her the address, she turned her phone back off and put it back in her pocket.

How are you going to know where to find the place if you don’t even look at the address?

Oh well. Juniper and Ves’ problem now.

“See ya,” she waved, then ran off. Fern and I waved too, then Fern turned to me.

“Well, she was interesting,” he remarked.

I shrugged.

“Yeah. It tends to go that way. I never really told you, but besides Ves, there’s been some strange people who showed up here a couple of times. First there was Blanc, this amnesiac who was missing an arm. Juniper decided to make a prosthetic limb for them after learning about Fullmetal Alchemist and we kinda let them live here until they just disappeared one day. Then there was this one stalker Juniper had who wanted her and I to leave town but didn’t really explain why and then Juniper hugged her and she freaked out. Not a clue what that was about, but we never saw her again, so I guess we never needed to leave town.”

“Wow, your sister had a stalker?”

I shrugged.

“Yeah, it was horrible, I guess. She seemed rather nonchalant about it, but I could tell it affected her in some ways. She was paranoid for a bit until she met this stalker in person, and then said stalker turned out to be harmless.”

“Still, I would’ve been scared too.”

“Oh yeah, and by the way, Ves is a time traveler. Yeah, you probably think I’m nuts now, but she was originally from the ‘60s and my sister and I found this time travel device that looked like a Nintendo 64 when we moved in. It apparently belonged to Ves’ father. So that time at the coffee shop when she was homeless? Yeah, apparently I met her before that actually and neither of us realized that. Of course, she was a teenager back then and only showed up to take the time travel device back but anyway…”

I realized I started rambling and the more I went on, the more ridiculous things probably seemed.

“...Anyway, you don’t have to believe me, but that was all to say that everyone else who’s ever been in this apartment has been more interesting than me. Including you. Compared to them, I’m kinda just...there.”

He shook his head and placed a firm grasp on my shoulders. He looked me in the eyes.

“No, you are very interesting. How could you not be when you’ve met all of these interesting people? Take it from me: I wouldn’t be interested in you if I didn’t find you interesting.”

“Gee,” I looked away, embarrassed. “Thanks. But also, there’s one more thing: my family has this weird tradition of naming people after trees. Yeah, I’m Trent, but I was named after Treant, this tree monster in D&D. My mom wanted to name me Ent, but apparently couldn’t because the Tolkien estate has the rights to that name.”

“See? Another interesting thing about you!”

“Ha. I’m glad I met you. My mom wasn’t exactly a nice lady, but it was cool that she was into D&D. That’s probably where I got it from. Maybe it’s genetic. Still, neither mine nor my sister’s personalities are like her, although Juniper’s probably closer, though way nicer. It’s hard to explain, but you’d just have to trust me.”

“Every time you tell me something new about yourself, I’m fascinated more and more,” he smiled wide.

We kissed once more before getting back to work. Our day hadn’t yet come to an end.

[thrill-cfthechase]

feelin’ twenty-two

tw: pregnancy, death, alcoholism, verbal abuse, creepy men

november 4th was elliot’s least favorite day of the year. it was never a day of celebration in the chase household, instead a day of forced smiles and words left unspoken. it was her birthday, but it was never preceded by a ‘happy.’ it was a somber occasion, a day of mourning. when she was young the people in her neighborhood would get her a cake and little gifts to make up for the party that her father never threw, but she could tell they were behaving differently than they did on other kids’ birthdays. she was nearly four when she found out that her mother had died after giving birth to her, and while she didn’t understand death, she knew she had done something wrong. on her fourth birthday she threw a fit. it was a nasty tantrum that the chases and all of sunset park tried to forget, but elliot would always remember the first time she remembered thinking i want my mom.

she wasn’t sure how old she was when her father stopped acknowledging her birthday, but she could tell he knew what day it was because he was always even drunker and angrier than usual and able to find new and creative ways to get mad at her that didn’t involve the death of her mother. her brothers would take her out for ice cream and she would eat her mint chocolate chip in silence while they watched her, foreheads etched with concern. some years they saved up enough money to buy her a gift, but she would never play with it. she didn’t feel like it was deserved. on her seventh birthday her brothers took her mini-golfing and they let her win. it made her furious. they never took it easy on her ever, and the last thing she wanted was for them to coddle her. she just wanted it to be like every other day. that night she found her oldest brother, tucker, crying. he was fourteen and far too proud to let people see him cry, one of many traits of toxic masculinity that managed to make it’s way into elliot. she didn’t know what to do or how to comfort him so she said nothing and went to her room, staring at the cracks in the ceiling above her bed until the sun rose the next morning.

by her twelfth birthday tucker had moved out for college, and that year her other brother, forrest, had a soccer game in a town two hours away. she got a confetti cake from her next door neighbor, mrs. casey, and spent the evening doing homework in her room while she ignored the sound of her father yelling at the tv. elliot thought she was being sneaky when she tiptoed into the kitchen to get another slice of cake for dinner, that the tv would mask any noise she made despite the fact that the la-z boy her father sat at was only a few feet away from the fridge. when he turned to tell her to give him another beer she was so startled that she dropped her cake on the floor. as she sat on the cold tiles and cleaned up the mess she’d made the drumming of her heartbeat in her ears was almost loud enough to drown out the insults being thrown at her. when forrest got home that night he made a joke about elliot not saving him any cake. she told him to go fuck himself and he called her a bitch. she still hates funfetti.

the night of elliot’s sixteenth birthday was spent in a stolen dress at a hotel bar downtown with a man twice her age. she pretended to believe he wasn’t married and he pretended to believe she was twenty-one. they talked for a few hours, with elliot at her most charming and gracious in a way that people who really knew her would find laughable. she was still new to this type of con, the kind that required her to be a lady, but it worked, and she left with his watch, two credit cards, and four hundred in cash. she was gone by the time he realized anything was missing. when she got home her father seemed surprised to see her, like he hadn’t realized she wasn’t in her room all night. he had never seen elliot in makeup before, and the fact that he was now seeing it at two in the morning didn’t seem to sit right with him. “if your mother was here she’d be so disappointed in you. but she’s not here, is she?” it might have been the most tame thing he said to her, but felt like the cruelest by far. those were the words that echoed in her head as she lay awake in bed with gus, her fourteen year old dog, asleep on her chest. he weighed twenty-five pounds but the weight on her lungs didn’t bother her - the ability to breathe didn’t seem particularly important.

elliot’s twentieth birthday was a little over two months into her first year at gallagher. she didn’t intend on telling anyone, but it felt strange to be another year older in a place that still felt foreign to her. she confided in the two people she had grown to truly trust - ellie and kass. kass even baked her a cake, and something compelled elliot to give her a hug. she wasn’t usually physically affectionate, but no one had baked her a cake in years, and she couldn’t help feeling a little sentimental. as soon as kass left she had to scrape the “happy birthday” off the cake so that no one else could see it, but for the first time she could remember, she was a little glad it was her birthday.

~

elliot looked at her phone. november 4th, 2020, 12:01 a.m. the two hardest things for her to say were ‘i love you’ and ‘i’m sorry,’ but on this day she felt the need to say both to her brothers.

“hey, i know u don’t like it when i apologize on this day, but it’s my birthday and that’s what i want to say. i’m sorry u lost her. thanks for never telling me it was my fault. i love u,” she texted them.

it was only nine o’clock in seattle and she immediately got a text back from her oldest brother. “you’re going to dismiss everything i say, but i need you to know that i love you. raising you has made me the man i am today, which is cheesy but it’s true. it’s not fair to you that you had to deal with all of my mistakes, but i believe that learning from them is what will make me a good father. losing mom is probably the worst thing that ever happened to me, but getting you was the best.” a single tear fell down elliot’s cheek and she quickly wiped it away and buried her face in spruce’s fur. her phone buzzed again with another text from tucker. “well, mia is the best thing now, but you held the title for a long time. i love you smelliot.” she cracked a smile and sent back a quick “love u too fucker.” it took her a long time to fall asleep, although that wasn’t unusual for her, and she dreamed of memories that didn’t belong to her.

she didn’t have any expectations for her birthday, but she was pleasantly surprised. levi wished her a happy birthday, and she only vaguely remembered telling him accidentally while drunk and wasn’t sure if she’d mentioned how little she cared for the day, but he didn’t make a big deal out of it and for that she was grateful. she was surprised when rowan wished her a happy birthday - elliot didn’t feel deserving of her kindness, but it still felt good. she got her annual cake from kass, delicious as always, and she tried to not think about the fact that this time next year kass wouldn’t be there and she wouldn’t have a homemade cake to deface. she also got a cake from asher, who had made one for her last year as well when they were dating, and a cupcake from reese. it was a lot of baked goods to explain to people, but stuffing her face with cake helped elliot feel a little better. one thing about having roommates was that they tended to know things about you that you might not want them to know, but she wasn’t too worried about ella making a big deal of things. she definitely hadn’t anticipated receiving a hamburger with a lit birthday candle in it, and it both made her laugh and tasted delicious. she was laying on her bed doing homework when alex walked in, unannounced and uninvited (rude) and gave her not only a bag of hot cheetos but also a knife engraved with what according to alex was the state flower of california (the opposite of rude). she didn’t really know what to say to him other than the thing she had managed to say all day long: thank you. it wasn’t her favorite thing to say, she wasn’t known for being particularly courteous, but she meant it. she was thankful to know that the few people who knew about her birthday had bothered to tell her they cared. on most days elliot would think of course they care, i’m me, but this day made her feel small. luckily for her, she had friends who reminded her otherwise.

~

elliot looked at her phone. november 5th, 2020, 12:00 a.m. it was over, and she was relieved. she wasn’t quite sure if it had been a happy birthday, but it seemed like in the past few years it had become less and less of a sad one. she was lying in bed, spruce fast asleep and snoring under one arm. “i’m sorry,” she whispered to nothing and no one. perhaps she was saying it to herself. she put her phone down and curled up beside spruce. as she waited for sleep to come she thought of her mother, of the woman who had been described to her and the woman she’d imagined she was. elliot thought back to all the times her brothers had told her how excited their mother was for elliot to be born and the time her aunt told her she was sure her mother had loved her with all her heart, if only for a few minutes. she cried, silent tears that stung her eyes and stained her pillow. eventually she took a breath and got out of bed, deciding to take spruce for a midnight walk. the air was cool and still and the sky was clear. elliot sat down on the grass by the edge of the forest and looked up at the stars. she stayed there for quite some time, looking out into the darkness and trying to remember names of constellations. she saw a shooting star and smiled, wracking her brain for what to wish for.

just some good things would be nice.

when she finally crawled into bed, the tightness in her chest that always appeared on her birthday was gone, and for the first time in weeks she slept peacefully.

[bambigoose]

Puppy Love - Tyler Seguin

The iron gates look like something straight out of the medieval ages, the intricate detailing never fails to take Mia’s breath away during the day despite their imposing stature. She’d moved into this community by per chance a little over a month ago and the judgmental stare of Mrs. Fredrick glaring at her currently stopped being intimidating on day one. That miserable old women had no problem letting Mia know she didn’t belong, not like she needed to be told, her older Chevy Equinox stuck out like a sore thumb in a neighborhood of range rovers, Cadillacs, and even a few Ferraris. Mia however knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Her mother was an angel and let her live with her until she was twenty six while she was working the nurse supervisor third shift at the hospital, paying off her student loans, and saving every cent she could with hopes of being able to buy a condo. Mia paid rent of course but it was about half of what she would have paid anywhere else.

Five months ago while searching on Zillow, in bed trying to fall asleep after her shift, her house popped up. It had been posted eight minutes ago and she immediately requested a showing saying she could do it that day while shouting for her mom to call out sick and come with her.

Four hours later, Mia was in love. It was a perfect little two bedroom house with an extra room in the basement that could make it three. Her mom had turned the house upside down searching for a reason it was on the market so cheap besides the fact it was about four times smaller than the average house on the street. Finding nothing despite checking every crack and crevice throughout the entire house, both Mia and her mom had their excitement grow. While having a discussion with the relator about the previous owner who passed suddenly at their summer home in Minnesota and their children were just trying to close everything quickly. Mia immediately put in the offer.

She met Mrs. Fredrick three weeks later while the woman continually walked her fancy poodle with her nose in the air around the entire street. Clearly she had less of a problem with the people moving in a little further down the street on the same day. Clearly they had money, based on the two moving trucks and friends luxury cars helping them move in. Of course according to Mrs. Fredrick his ugly dogs would be a problem in the neighborhood, but that was minimal crime compared to Mia moving in with only her three best friend’s and mother’s older cars.  Her nose went even higher seeing them unload a lawn mower, “You’re lawn will never meet the standards of the neighborhood.” The evil witch of the west finally disappeared after Mia just shrugged and stared her down.

Now she just took satisfaction watching her face scrunch up every time she pulled through and waved at her. She could only imagine the rumors she spreads about her being gone all night long most times. Pulling into her driveway, with her decently up kept lawn, Mia placed her head on the steering wheel and sighed. It was a long shift last night and in typical fashion she put off grocery shopping until the very last minute, forcing herself to have to go this morning in order to eat at some point today.

Stepping out of her car, Mia mentally debated whether to just lie down on the couch in her scrubs or expend the energy to walk upstairs to her bed and change into sweats. Opening her trunk, sleeping on the couch was looking even more appealing staring at all her bags. Resigning herself to making multiple trips, she headed in with the first one full of frozen foods, a habit ingrained in her by her mom. ‘Don’t let the frozen go bad in all this heat.’

On her return to the car she thought she could hear jingling as she past the driver’s door but she wrote it off. Turning around the tail end she was greeted by a chocolate lab whitening around his nose and tail wagging a mile a minute in her trunk laying on the cool spot where the frozen food was had just been.

Mia melted on the spot. “Hi baby! Where’d you come from?” She asked leaning down accepting the slobbering kisses all over her face. Her Golden Retriever used to do the same thing before he pasted, if someone opened a car door while he was outside he’d jump right on in. “Where’s your family buddy?” Pushing down a little hard while rubbing his ears, she got an even more enthusiastic tail wag and a tongue rolling out of his mouth.

“CASH! Where are you buddy?”

She heard shouted out from up the street, as his ears perked up. “Cash, is that your name buddy?” Getting one last lick he took up off the street, “Bye bud!” Mia laughed grabbing the last of her groceries before slamming her trunk door shut.  

**

Daylight savings was the ban of Mia’s existence. All she saw was darkness during the winter months; she might as well as move to Alaska with their twenty-one hours of darkness. A surprising winter blast had hit Dallas the past few days in October so she took a deep breath bundled up in a sweatshirt and scarf. All her winter clothes were still in the attic and she couldn’t convince herself to pull them down just for a few days.

Closing and locking her door she headed out into her usually abandoned street. Tonight though she could hear whispering toward the end of her driveway, “Gerry you gotta calm down bud, how are you still this hyper.” Looking up she could spot a man in what looked like a suit with a dog walking across the street from her house.  The dog appeared to be dragging him along popping from flower bed to flower bed smelling everything. Mia giggled quietly to herself, unlocking her car. The click and lights turning on brought their attention to her.  

The dog was clearly an excitable yellow lab, Gerry she believed it was called. The tail was wagging so hard she wouldn’t be surprised if his handsome suited owner would have a bruise on his knee tomorrow morning. “Gerry no.” The command was useless, Gerry had already taken off across the street at her legs, his poor owner practically running in order to not end up face planting on the ground.  

Mia dropped to her knees and readily accepted the puppy loving. The lab was so excited he was bouncing in place, weaving in between her legs before settling on her feet, head leaned back against her knee with the puppy dog eyes. She continually waved off the apologizes his owner was giving. “Hello love! Aren’t you just the most adorable puppy ever?” Scratching up and down his sides the lab start talking to her. Little yelps and excited yips coming out of him each time she rubbed him down. “Shh… gotta be quiet buddy. Mrs. Fredrick will come out and yell at me and your dad. She already hates me enough as it is.”

“Ahh… you’ve met the wicked witch too”came from the suited man, mischief shining in his eyes eliminated by the street light. Sharing a laugh he reached out with his hand extended, “I’m Tyler.”

“Mia. Would it be offend you to know I prepare to refer to you as the puppy father?”

Surprised laughter left Tyler, his eyes crinkling while his face scrunched up. Mia dropped his hand, not realizing how long she had been holding on. Last thing she ever wanted to do was make someone uncomfortable like that, her anxiety was rising just thinking about it. “Well I’ll just have to refer to you as the beautiful nurse.” He says pointing to her ID badge.

“Your daddy is a flirt Gerry.” She says leaning back down to his level getting a slobbering lick all up her face. “Your dogs clearly enjoy slobbering all over me.” She laughed.

“Dogs?” Tyler questioned, trying to think back if he had meet the cute neighbor before. The boys commented on her every time they saw her. The yard work in the yoga shorts and tank top was a particular favorite of the team, especially when working on her flower beds.

She looked up at him locking eyes, “Yes, Cash visited the trunk of my car just last week.”

Tyler went white, he was sure Cash had only taken off into the woods a bit, not all the way down the street and into someone else’s car. “I am so sorry. I can’t believe he…”

Mia cut him off, “Oh he was a love. Not to worry, my last name isn’t Fredrick, your cute dogs and their puppy loving kept you out of trouble.”

Tyler smirked, “Will the cute dogs and puppy loving be enough to get me a date with the pretty nurse?”

Mia looked down towards Gerry, “I don’t know buddy, should I go on a date with your daddy?” Unbeknownst to Mia, Tyler was actively regretting not listening to Jamie and teaching his dogs silent commands. He was banking on Gerry’s excitement and mentally promising him treats should he get him this date. His hopping paid off, Gerry licked her in the face. “I think that means yes.” Mia laughed. “Well puppy father, my next day off is Thursday, but you have a game the next night. Would it work if we do something before your curfew?”

Tyler’s eyes widened like saucers. “You know who I am?”

“If by that you mean know you’re the man with a ton of puppies that lives up the street and happens to be particularly skilled in hockey, then yes but I mean everyone has to be good at something right?”

Tyler release a breath, “And what are you particularly good at?” he joked.

“Loving on puppies, napping, and walking out on conversations so I’m not late for work.” She counted off on her fingers. “I’ll see you Friday?” she questioned.

Tyler smiled, “Come up around five? I’ll order us in something, that way you’ll stay for the entire time. Can’t disappoint the dogs by walking out on them.”

Mia beamed, “So what you really mean is I get to eat and go on a date with the puppies. You clearly know that way to a ladies heart sir.” She scratched behind Gerry’s ears “I’ll see you and your brothers on Friday for our date buddy and I guess we’ll let your dad tag along.” She waved goodbye, hopping into her car and reversing out of the driveway. Tyler watched her go until the tail lights disappeared.

Mia was finishing up her yard work Friday afternoon, she checked the clock sighing, there was about fifteen minutes before she needed to head in and shower for her date with Tyler tonight. She ran into him the next day and numbers were exchanged. They had been talking all week, him sending her different pictures of the dogs every day with reminders not to disappoint them and Mia was excited for tonight.

She grabbed her water and sat down on her steps with her eyes closed and face turned to the sun basking in the warmth. After a moment she felt something wet against her knee. Eyes opening she laughed seeing Marshall, the only Seguin dog she had yet to meet at her feet. “Did your dad send you down here to remind me about tonight huh?” She leaned forward and scratched behind his ears. Marshall galloped up the stairs and leaned against her side, “You’re just a cuddle bug, those young ones trying you out buddy.”  

Throwing her arm around Marshall she pulled out her phone, muting the music and opening the camera. She flipped the camera around and snapped a quick shot of them. Sending it to Tyler Lost dog?

Jesus, I’ll come down and get him.

Petting his side Mia looked at Marshall, “You wanna go home buddy or should I tell your dad I’m stealing you?” Marshall shook out his body and leaned heavily against her. Mia chuckled, “Staying with me then I guess.”

Nope. He’s mine now. He’ll escort me to yours later :P

You’re trying to steal my children.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Come on buddy. Let’s get cool inside the house yeah?” Mia called standing up, Marshall following behind her closely. He was practically attached to her hip. She almost tripped over him heading up the stairs. Sitting down on the edge of her bed she tapped the side next to her. Needing no further invitation Marshall hopped up and curled up almost in her lap. “You keep doing this I’m going to call you cuddle bug.”

Slipping out from underneath Marshall she gave him another ear scratch before heading into her bathroom. She made sure the doors to both rooms stayed open in case Marshall changed his mind and wanted to get her attention to leave. She showered quickly, debating what to wear throughout the duration. It was a first date but it was also only at his house. Her anxiety was spiking slightly in worry. Taking a deep breath she told herself he thought you were cute in baggy ugly scrubs everything else you own is better than those.

Rubbing a towel through her hair, Mia throw it up into a messy bun before brushing her teeth. Deciding just to do light makeup she was finished in just a few minutes. Returning to her room in order to check in her friend she paused in the doorway smiling. People say depressed people tend to have more blankets and pillows on their bed, in which place she must be denying the truth but Marshall does not seem to mind at all. He had all but tucked himself under her fluffy blanket, leaning up against her pillows with the ceiling fan circling slowly above him. He raised his head to look at her with a tiny tail wag when she headed to her dresser. "What should I wear cuddle bug?" Marshall was zero help, he just continued to sit there staring at her.

"So jeans and a tshirt with a pullover sweater sounds good then." Slipping into her clothes she nudged Marshall off the bed. "Let's go cuddle bug. Time to see daddy and your brothers." Mia would swear she saw Marshall sigh the same way older siblings do when resigning themselves to watching their little siblings for the evening. The duo walked up the street together never further than three feet apart. That would continue throughout the rest of the night. Tyler had to fight the dogs in order to weasel his way next to Mia on the couch.

…..

Mia sighed pulling into her boyfriend's driveway. Tyler and her had seen even less of each other lately. The hospital had been all hands on deck as the flu ripped through the area leading to a higher than normal admit rate and the Stars were in the middle of the season. Tyler's coach had harshly called out him and Jamie not to long ago so they were practically killing themselves at the practice rink.

Tyler had tonight off and Mia felt awful cancelling their plans to go out at the last minute but truthfully Tyler was relieved. Both of them could use a night on the couch with the dogs and food brought to them.

Turning off the engine, Mia waved to Mrs. Fredrick who of course was even more disgusted with her and Tyler now that the were dating and committing sins staying at each other's houses most nights. As per usual Mrs. Fredrick stuck her nose back up in the air huffing away with her miserable poodle.

Unlocking the door Mia laughed hearing thuds through the hallway. Pulling her phone out from the back pocket of her scrubs she started recording. The post on Instagram was the most liked of the year. Tyler and the dogs rushing down the hallway all but tripping over each other was one of the most hilarious things she had seen in a long time. The best response to her caption which puppy missed me more was Jamie's posted seconds after it went up.

The one with two legs.

[dragonshost]

gintama, ginzura, promot: “I walked until I got arrested.” Please and thank you, i am a big fan of your blog

Thank you so much anon, I LIVE for these morons and I had so much fun imagining and writing this.  Special thanks go to @thatoneonfire for helping me out with this immensely!!

I must warn you that this is a bit crass because it’s... well, it’s Gintama.

Below The Cut

Knock Knock Knock

Gintoki groaned at the sound, like a jackhammer aimed at his head.  His hangover was particularly bad this morning.  Nausea swam through his body like a fish.  “Go away!” he yelled, and then winced at his own voice.

Knock Knock Knock

“I don’t care who’s there!” Gintoki shouted, picking up his pillow and placing it over his ears and trying to become one with his futon.  It was too damn early in the morning for this.

Knock Knock Knock

“I don’t have rent, old lady!  Go bother someone else!”  There was no possible way it was a customer.  Not this early in the day.  Customers for Odd Jobs never came around at a decent hour, because decent people waited until the afternoon to get shit accomplished, like proper, upstanding citizens should.  Not that they got a whole lot of proper citizens patronizing them, now that he thought about it.

Knock Knock Knock

“No one’s home! Leave a message after the beep!  Beep!”

Blessed silence fell over the office, and Gintoki heaved a sigh, choking back the bile that rose up when he did so.  Ugh, he felt like shit.

Ding Ding Ding

Dammit, they found the doorbell.  Now he was screwed.  He had to either get up and answer it, or let them wake up Kagura and she would answer it - with a kick straight through it.  Gintoki couldn’t afford to replace it again; he was starting to get a reputation for door theft in the neighborhood and he couldn’t bring that kind of heat down on his head again.

“Alright, alright!  I’m coming!”  With a groan, he heaved his corpse out of the futon and stumbled out of his room.

Ding Ding Ding

“I said I’m coming, you a**holes!” he snapped, bumping his shin into the table.  “C***s****ing a**holes!”

Ding Ding Ding... dingdingdingdingdingdingdingding

“Stop button-mashing!  Do you think this is Mortal *ombat?!  Are you here to avenge your sensei?!”  Throwing the door open, Gintoki continued, “I’m gonna show you exactly where you can shove that button-mashing finger, you peace-disturbing piece of-”

His rant abruptly cut off as he met the bewildered stare of the person disturbing his peace.

Or rather, persons.

There was a full squad of uniformed Shinsengumi in front of his door, and spilling out onto the stairway and into the thoroughfare.  Which would be sufficient cause for alarm on most days, but particularly alarming were the four people immediately on his threshold: a scowling demonic vice-chief, a sadist barely containing his glee, and a fully stark naked chief holding the leash of a renowned joui terrorist Katsura Kotarou wearing the shabbiest dog costume Gintoki had ever seen in his life.

Kondo cleared his throat.  “Um... sorry to disturb you so early in the morning, but I think I found something that belongs to yo-”

The door slammed shut in his face.

“Hey!! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Hijikata yelled, grabbing the handle and trying to force it back open.

Using all of his might to hold it closed, Gintoki shouted back, “I’m going back to bed!  Whatever sick fetish this is, I don’t want any part of it!”

“Just open the damn door!  Do you think we want to be here any more than you want us?!”

“Stand back, sir, I’ve got this,” Okita piped up, a heavy clunking emanating from the other side of the door.

“Would you all shut UP!”  A red-pajama-ed leg sailed past Gintoki’s nose, punching straight through the door and knocking Okita and his trusty rocket launcher off the roof.  Gintoki stared through the gaping hole in his door as Kagura let out a yawn, and then stretched.  Scratching her belly, she crawled back through the hole in the door and stumbled past the furiously sweating Gintoki, letting out a loud belch on her way.

Meeting Gintoki’s eyes, Kondo cleared his throat once more.  “Um... sorry to disturb you so early in the morning, but I think I-”

“I heard you the first time!” Gintoki snapped.  “What do you want?!  You’ve disturbed my sleep, upset my ward, and now you’ve put a hole through my door-”

“Don’t you blame that on us!” hissed Hijikata.  He jabbed his finger at Gintoki.  “That was clearly your kid’s fault!”

“My kid?!  I clearly saw that rocket launcher your kid was about to blast me with!  And didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude to point?!” he accused, not following his own statement and pointing his finger back at the Shinsengumi’s Vice Chief.

Kondo cleared his throat.  “Um... sorry to disturb you so early-”

A vein throbbed on Gintoki’s head.  “I said that you already said that part!  Just tell me why your furry b**** are darkening my doorstep already, Gorilla!  So I can go back to sleep!”  Given that Katsura was in a dog costume standing with the Shinsengumi, it was sure to be incredibly stupid but that would be par for the course at this point.

“Well, we were out on an early morning patrol, and we happened upon the dogcatcher.”  Beside him, Katsura, in his costume, nodded along   “Then I saw this little guy looking out the back, with such sad eyes, and I could just hear that one commercial with Sarah McLaughing playing in my head, you know?”

“Understandable, but that’s clearly not a dog,” Gintoki pointed out.  “That’s a terrorist.”

“Being cute is not illegal,” chided Kondo, reaching over and patting Katsura on the head.  “The dogcatcher had caught him, and he knows his business, Gintoki.  I’m not about to question it.  Besides which, this good boy was holding this sign around his neck.”  He passed it through the hole to Gintoki.

“Where was this?” Gintoki questioned, taking in gingerly.  “Where were you hiding this?!”

“That’s not important,” replied Kondo, a blush spreading across his cheeks.  Both sets of them.

Disgusted and regretting the fact that he’d already taken the damn thing from him, Gintoki looked over what it said.

If FoundPlease Return To:Sakata GintokiOdd Jobs GinAbove Bar OtoseKabukicho, Edo

‘What the f*** was Zura doing?!?!  And he got caught by the dogcatcher?!?!  Does no one in Edo have eyes?!?!  And what is up with this “good boy” nonsense?!?!  Zura’s never been good a day in his life!’

“Woof,” said Katsura, helpfully.

It took every ounce of self-control that Gintoki possessed to stop himself from killing Katsura on the spot.  “I don’t want this package.”  Gintoki glanced down at Kondo’s crotch.  “Either of these packages.”

Hijikata rolled his eyes.  “Look, we have better things to do than stand around your place yakking all day long.  Just take the damn dog so we can go already.  Also, when did you get a new dog?  I could’ve sworn you only had the one.”

“Me too, buddy.”

“You know that you’re going to have to get a kennel license, right?” Okita pointed out, finally working his way back up through the rest of the squad and onto the walkway.  “We’ll overlook it this time as a favor to you, Boss, but you’ll have to turn in the paperwork within a week or two or else get a fine.”

Gintoki blinked slowly.  “...What?”

“A kennel license.  Because with four dogs, you have to get one.”  He started ticking them off on his fingers, “The white furball, this decrepit looking one, the old one you keep downstairs...”

Gintoki wondered if Okita was referring to Hasegawa or Otose with that.

“...and the red bitch with hair buns that-”

“WHAT WAS THAT YOU CALLED ME?!”  A red blur whooshed past Gintoki’s head for the second time, breaking apart more of the door and sending Okita over the edge once again.  Her work complete, she turned and stared at Katsura, finally noticing him for the first time.  “Look, it’s dog shit in a dog costume.”

Katsura wheezed painfully at Kagura’s harsh words.  “Leader!” he protested, only to garner the immediate and intense appraisal of everyone around him.  “I m-mean... W-woof.”

Narrowing his eyes at Katsura, Hijikata addressed Gintoki.  “I’ve been meaning to ask you this, but what kind of dog is he?  That was a pretty human sounding ‘Woof’ just now.”

‘What about the rest of it?!’ Gintoki internally shouted.  ‘It’s only the bark that concerns you?!  Why are you only starting to question this right now?!’

“...I’m a spacedog,” Katsura himself offered.  “We can talk, actually.  Sorry I didn’t say anything before now.”

Kondo nodded.  “That checks out.”  When it looked like Hijikata might protest after all, Kondo silenced him with a raised hand and a shake of his head.  “Calm down, Toshi.  Remember where we found him.  I’m sure the dogcatcher knows better than anyone what is and what isn’t a dog.  It isn’t our job to question fellow officers of the law.”

“I’m personally questioning the ones right in front of me,” muttered Gintoki.  “Since you’re talking now, just what was it that you did to get captured by the dogcatcher?”

“I was just walking around, until I got arrested out of the blue by that scary man with the net.  It was terrifying.”

‘I mean, it’s clear that you’re a highly suspicious person, and I’m glad that someone took you off the streets, but come on!  Getting caught by the dogcatcher is not the same as getting arrested, you moron!  Speaking of which, it’s a miracle you haven’t been up to this point!’

“Aww...”  Kondo petted Katsura on the head once more, the look in his eyes tender.  “I’m sorry, that must have been quite the ordeal for you.”

“It’s been quite the ordeal for me so far, honestly,” Gintoki observed.

Shuffling sheepishly, Kondo tentatively asked, “By the way, I’ve been wondering... what is his name?”

“It’s Zura,” offered Kagura, before Gintoki could stop her.

“I’m not Zura!” Katsura declared.  “I’m Katsura!”

‘I shouldn’t even try to save him.  Zura is just asking to get arrested at this point.’

Kondo blinked, then let out a huge laugh from deep in his belly.  “That’s hilarious!  What a fantastic name!  So that’s why you called him a terrorist before!  I will say that it’s apt.  He’s certainly hijacked my heart, the little rascal.”

Begrudgingly, Hijikata nodded.  “I have to say, I’m surprised but naming an animal after a fellow animal is a pretty clever idea.”

Gintoki opened his mouth, and then quickly shut it with a snap.  He sighed heavily through his nose, and rubbed his aching head.  “Shinsengumi... someday, we’re going to have to have a talk about your face-blindness.”  Deciding it would be faster to get rid of them all by playing along, he continued in a monotone, “Thank you for returning my pet.  If you will just hand him over to me, you can be on your way.”  The sooner they were gone, the sooner he could kick Katsura out and go back to sleep and possibly his anti-nausea medication.

Shockingly, Kondo hesitated, staring deep into Katsura’s eyes.  His own were soft around the edges, and his hand on the fake-dog’s head was gentle.

In The Arms Of The Angel

Katsura gazed back at him, thinking the other man was challenging him to a staring contest and not wanting to back down from it.

Fly Away From Here

“Stop that!” Gintoki demanded, looking around desperately for the source of the music.  “Stop with the melodramatic music!  This isn’t a touching moment!  Neither of these two are on the same page!  One of them clearly thinks this is a staring contest!”

From This Dark, Cold, Hotel Room

“THIS ISN’T EVEN A HOTEL ROOM, IT’S MY HOUSE!!  PLEASE STOP IT, SONG FICS AREN’T EVEN ALLOWED ON FFN!  DRAGON’SHOST IS GOING TO GET SUED AT THIS RATE!”

And The Endlessness That Y-

The music abruptly cut off, Kagura proudly holding up a broken boombox.  “I took care of it, Gin-chan!”

“Good job, Kagura!”  He gave her a thumbs up.  “Zura, let’s go.”

Breaking eye contact with Kondo at last (mostly because the other man’s were tearing up from strain and he wanted to save his opponent some dignity), Katsura waddled over to Gintoki in his tattered suit.  As he passed by him, he laid a paw on Gintoki’s shoulder.  “Thank you, my friend,” he whispered so only they could hear.  “I was afraid my cover was blown.  But thanks to you, I can continue with my undercover infiltration plans.”

“The only thing you’ve managed to infiltrate is my house, you moron,” Gintoki muttered darkly.

“Nevertheless, I will not forget this debt.”

“I hope that debt comes with a monetary reward.”  He wasn’t going to hold his breath, though.

Katsura smiled, and continued past him into the house.

“There,” Gintoki stated, beckoning for Kagura to come inside as well.  “Now that your business is concluded, please go away now.”

“Wait.”  Kondo motioned his hand towards the broken boombox Kagura was making off with.  “That’s my personal property.  I’m not mad about you destroying it, but can I at least have it back?”

Kagura looked him up and down coldly, a sneer spreading across her face.  “Mine now.  Finder’s keepers.  If you wanted it so badly, maybe you should have taken care of it and not broken it.”

“That was you that broke it, idiot,” Gintoki pointed out.  “Just give it back to him.  We already have Zura, we don’t need more pointless junk.”

“Had Zura, you mean.”

The man blinked.  “Eh? What do you mean, by ‘had’?” he questioned, his voice pitching an octave higher.  “Eh?  Kagura-chan?  What?  Why are you using past tense?”

Pointing into the main office, Kagura stated, “Sadaharu got jealous of a new dog in the house.”

Right on cue, Katsura’s bloody form collapsed in the entrance to the hallway.

In The Arms Of The Angel

A strangled gurgle erupted from Gintoki’s mouth.

Fly Away From Here

Katsura shakily raised his head, blood streaming down his face.

From This Dark, Cold, Hotel Room

“NOOOOO!” Kondo screamed, time slowing down as he ran towards the injured spacedog.  Only to stumble and fall just short of his goal.  He reached out towards Katsura, his fingers straining to reach him.

With a trembling hand, Katsura reached back.

And The Endlessness That You Fear

Just before their fingers could touch... a giant white paw slammed down on Katsura’s back, dragging him back into the office.

“NOOOO!” Crying, Kondo curled his fingers and slammed them against the tatami.  “Why?!  Why did it have to end this way?!”

You Are Pulled From The Wreckage

A horrible ripping sound penetrated the air, followed by a wet squelch as a tattered and bloody tail of Katsura’s dog costume hit the mats right in front of Kondo.

“ZURAAAAAAA!” sobbed the Shinsengumi chief.  “ZUUUURAAAA!!”

Of Your Sile-

The music cut off again, and Gintoki turned to stare as Yamazaki put down his own boombox.  He shrugged.  “It seemed appropriate before, but now that it’s become a horror, I thought I should stop.”

Gintoki stared at him.  “How long have you been there?”

Offended, Yamazaki huffed, “That’s rude!  I’ve been here the whole time!  Didn’t you see me?!”

He thought it over.  “...Nope.”  When Yamazaki continued to stare at him in accusation, Gintoki defended himself.  “You’re like Shinpachi levels of bland, but without even glasses to give you some sort of presence, I didn’t even notice you were there.”

“How?!” Kondo demanded, rising to his knees.  Snot dripped down his face, and his eyes were rimmed red with his tears of despair.  “How can you all just stand there and talk so calmly?  He was your pet, wasn’t he, Gintoki?  A dog, man’s best friend?  He just died in front of you!  How can you stand there like nothing happened?”

Shoving a finger up his noise, Gintoki hummed in thought.  “Eh...”  He pulled his finger out, contemplated the treasure he’d just excavated, and then flicked it at Yamazaki, who flailed to avoid the projectile. “He’s probably fine.”

Kondo gestured with an open hand towards the murder scene.  “He’s dead!”

“I’m sure he’ll get better.  I have absolute faith in how impossible he is to kill.”

Sniffling, Kondo wiped his face with one arm.  “I’m going to... I’m going to pay my respects.  To the bravest dog I’ve ever known.”

With a sigh, Gintoki begrudgingly followed Kondo into the room.  He nearly ran into the man as he stood inside, his jaw dropped.  “What the heck, Gorilla?  Don’t you know better than to just suddenly stop in front of someone?”  When there was no response, Gintoki stepped around him and got his first good look of the room.  And then immediately wished that he hadn’t.

“What the hell are you doing to my office, Zura?!”

The man looked up, the bottom half of his dog costume pulled down to his ankles as he popped a squat next to Sadaharu, who was doing the same.  “I’m not Zura, I’m Katsura.  And Sadaharu said that he would respect me as junior member of the household if I could prove myself to him.  So we’re doing that.”

“What part of that translates to ‘take a dump in Gintoki’s house’?!  And when did you learn how to speak dog anyway, you mangy mutt?!”

“I am a dog,” Katsura reminded Gintoki of his cover.  “Maybe not originally, as I’m just a gun that ate the Dog Dog vegetable.”

“What do you think this is, One Park?!  And didn’t you say you were a spacedog, before?!”

“A space gun that became a dog. But I will prove myself here and now as a proper pet with the best cannonball that I can produce!”

A brown mosaic dropped onto the floor.

“It’s a big ball of SOMETHING all right!” Gintoki shouted.

“Don’t interfere, my friend!” cautioned Katsura, holding up a hand to forestall Gintoki stalking over there and beating the literal crap out of it.  “This is a battlefield!  It’s about honor!”

“No, it’s clearly about crap!”

Kondo clenched his fist, bringing it to his hairy chest and holding it over his heart.  “I was right about you, Zura.”

“I’m not Zura, I’m-”

Tears glistened anew in Kondo’s eyes.  “I was right in thinking that you were the bravest dog I had ever seen.  Would you... would you allow me to fight by your side, as your comrade?”

Katsura stared up at the naked man, his eyes glistening with the depth of his emotions.  “Kondo... Yes, I would be honored if you fought alongside me.  Comrade.”

“NO!” Gintoki screamed, about ready to throttle all of them.  Only a healthy fear of being arrested kept him from actively doing so.  “GO OUTSIDE!!  I’M BEGGING YOU!  THERE’S A CHILD HERE!  WE’RE ALREADY PUSHING THE RATING OF THIS WITH YOU GUYS EXPOSING YOURSELVES IN FRONT OF HER!”

“Wait!”  Kagura ran into the room, already dropping trou as well.  “Don’t leave me out!”

“You see?!  You’re a bad influence!  Kagura, don’t follow their example!  You’re better than that!  The PTA is going to come after us again!”

“Hmph.”  Pushing past Gintoki, Okita stared down the scene in front of them.  “Just as I thought.  What a crass bitch.”

“Thank you, Okita.”  Gintoki looked at him with hope in his heart.  “Finally, someone with some common sense-”

Okita shook his head.  “Sorry, Boss.  But I’m not about to let her outdo me at something,” he said, before rushing in to join the literal sh**show.

Tears began to stream down Gintoki’s face.  He wasn’t altogether sure if they were from his despair or from the rancid stench starting to fill the small space.  “Please, you monsters,” he begged them.  “Think of the animators who have to draw all this sh**!  Think of their training, their hard work, their hopes and aspirations they must have had!  Only to culminate in working on a tower of excrement!  Think of how accurately they have to draw this, for the mosaic program to pick it up?  Think of what you’re doing to them!  For something that we totally can’t air now!  The only ones going to be happy about this are your proctologists!”

His heartfelt speech fell on deaf ears, as the crapping contest continued unabated.  Gintoki watched the whole thing, numb inside.

When it was finally over, and the participants were quite literally and thoroughly crapped out, Kondo approached Gintoki.  “I was wondering if I could speak to you, Gintoki.  Man to man.”

Gintoki sighed heavily.  “Don’t you mean gorilla to man?  But yeah, sure.  What is it?”

Laying a hand on Gintoki’s shoulder, Kondo confessed, “I think I love your dog, Gintoki.”

“Yeah, okay.  Raise the rating on this thing, why don’t you.”

He shook his head.  “Not that like that.  I mean, I’ve fallen in love with his samurai spirit.  It’s the same spirit which forms the basis the Shinsengumi’s heart and soul.  I was wondering, since your pets don’t seem to get along, if I might take him back with me to the Shinsengumi.  We could use such a noble mascot among our ranks.”

Completely numb and wanting to be done with this whole affair, Gintoki could only nod.  “If it will get all of you out of my house, I don’t care anymore.  Just take him and go.”

Kondo smiled. “Thank you, Gintoki!  I will not soon forget this favor!”

“Good, because I’ll be sending you the repair bills for this.”

Ignoring him, Kondo repeated, “I will not soon forget this favor!”

“Didn’t you hear me?  I said I’ll be sending you the-”

Hijikata stepped beside Gintoki and shook his head.  “Don’t waste your breath.  We’ll take care of it, if you forget this ever happened.”

“Deal.”

As everyone began to pack up and leave - including Kagura, who was out of her favorite pickled seaweed - Katsura walked up to Gintoki.  “Gintoki.  Words cannot express my gratitude.  Thanks to your sacrifice, I was able to successfully infiltrate the Shinsengumi.”

“You literally crapped your way in, but okay.”

“Regardless...”  Katsura paused, and looked deep into Gintoki’s eyes.  “I heard everything you said before opening your door, you know.”  When Gintoki opened his mouth to reply, Katsura shook his head.  His eyes flicked over to the gathered Shinsengumi members waiting at the door for him to join him.  “Gintoki.  I know that it will be difficult to see your friend leaving, and wagging his tail for a different master.  But I will always treasure the times we spent together - both the difficult ones, and the easier times where we were full of laughter and hope.  I will always treasure you, even though are paths are different.  Even if others would not agree with my decision, and hate you, I never will.  Do you understand?”

You Are Pulled From The Wreckage

Gintoki found he had no more words left in him as the soft piano playing from Yamazaki’s boombox began to fill the room.  Nothing he could say to express the well of warmth rising inside his soul at Katsura’s words.  So he said nothing, and just nodded.

Of Your Reverie

Katsura smiled.  “Good.  I will see you again someday, I’m sure. Take care of yourself, and your new comrades, Gintoki.  I know how much you treasure them, too.”

You’re In The Arms Of The Angel

He nodded again, shortly.  “Yeah.”

May You Find Some Comfort Here

As Katsura left with the Shinsengumi, Gintoki followed him outside.  As Katsura reached the bottom of the stairs, he paused and looked back up at Gintoki, a warm smile on his face.

You’re In The Arms Of The Angel

Then he turned slowly, and departed, the piano notes fading softly behind him.

May You Find Some Comfort Here

Gintoki stood out on the balcony for some time, leaning against the railing.  Once Katsura was out of sight, he returned back into his office.

And came face to the face with The Great Tower of Mosaics.

He stared at it for a moment, flies attracted to the stench buzzing around his head.

Then he shut the door, and left the building.

“Pachinko time.”

This was a problem for Future Gintoki.

[hardeepcox]

Working and Sitting Next to an Actual Psychopath

Yes, you read that title correctly. That actually happened.

Once again I will not reveal the name of the company I worked at, only that its name rhymes with Ee Em Gee. So I had been working at this place for about 3 months just having a blast with my bro Huong and my Uncle Corey from the southside of Chicago. And one day we had a new guy in our office, and he sat right behind me. I was doing some work on my computer when I heard two people having a conversation behind me, one American voice and one English voice. The English voice was introducing the American voice to the office and showing him how the schedule worked. I then heard the English voice ask the American voice “so where are you from?” The American voice replies, “I’m originally from Puerto Rico but I grew up in the states.” Instantly I thought, cool! I love Puerto Rican music and now I’ll get to sit next to another minority person or whatever! The English voice left, so now I could say hi to the new guy. I was like, “so you’re Boricua huh?” I knew that Puerto Ricans identify with the native Boricua of the Puerto Rican island, so I was just showing off my history and geography knowledge at this point.  We hit it off right away. Even my Irish manager liked him so much he said, “this is gonna be a fun year!” I asked the Puerto Rican guy for his name, but for now let’s just call him Satan. A couple of days go by and all is great.

I think it was on day 3, a girl from another office happens to be sitting in Satan’s seat while she chatted with her boyfriend chilling at the desk directly to the left of Satan’s. Satan stands right in-between them while they are talking and makes a loud sound of clearing his throat. The atmosphere at this point feels a little bit weird. He asks for his seat back in a way that would sound rude, to literally anyone. There are so many ways to say the same thing, but he chose the most uncomfortable passive-aggressive way. I think hmm, this is odd.

Day 4, the same girl is sitting in Satan’s seat as he comes back into the office. The same exact scenario as the day before. This time he goes up to her and says something like, “are you going to be in my seat every day?” I didn’t quite hear her response but eventually she got up and left. Her boyfriend was understandably pissed off. Keep in mind that her boyfriend is tall as fuck and trains in MMA every other day. Let’s call him Skywalker.

Day 5, it’s 8:00am in the morning. I had just sat at my desk. Suddenly. The door opens and Satan is aggressively yelling at Skywalker about something. I’m barely awake so I’m just confused as hell. Satan yells something like, “don’t touch me bro!” Skywalker’s body language is saying something like, what did I do? Our shift had LITERALLY just started and this drama was happening right in our faces, keep in mind that our office had about 45 people. After about the longest 30 seconds ever, the scene is done. Satan goes back to his desk. Keep in mind that his desk directly behind mine, and directly to the right of Skywalker’s. At this point, Satan decides that I am the person that he wants to tell all his drama to. He tells me that he didn’t realize that he was yelling because he had his headphones on. At this point I saw the red flag, this dude has the symptoms of a psycho. Last time I heard someone make an excuse like this was from my drug-dealing Colombian ex-girlfriend who is also a psychopath. Anyways, apparently Skywalker had bumped into Satan and almost made him drop his phone, and this is what had ultimately triggered this scene early in the morning. I figured, this reaction from Satan should be unacceptable in any workplace so I’m sure he’ll be fired soon. I’ll just wait this out. The days go by. Satan has not been fired. The complaints against him have accumulated from other teachers outside of our office. He has been rude to teachers and even to our cab drivers that drive us to the schools where we teach at. Our head manager, let’s call her Pippy Longstocking, has had multiple talks with him one-on-one and she believes every excuse that Satan comes up with. More and more people start to dislike him, and this makes him think that I am his only and best friend in the world. I keep thinking, okay he’ll be fired any time now so I’ll just keep playing it cool. I’ve dealt with a psychopath before so I’ll just be chill and wait this out. No point in adding another complaint against him, plenty of people have already complained so he should be fired soon, right?

Over a month has gone by, and this dude is still working here! A few times, I give him the benefit of the doubt and actually invite him to hang out outside of work. The first time was to sing karaoke with his landlord and my bro Huong. Huong sang the song, I’m in Love with the Coco, and it was tight. I went with one my go-to songs, the Armageddon song by Aerosmith. You know the one I’m referring to. Satan sang some 10 minute long song from the 70’s, oh yeah this dude is apparently like 40 something. Another time, I invited Satan to have lunch at the famous banh mi lady’s place and Satan was extremely rude to her because according to him the food had taken “over an hour”. It had actually been like ten minutes. That was the last time that I ever invited him out.

A month and a half go by, and I try my best to avoid even being in the office. Now, Satan thinks that everyone is plotting against him. He thinks that Huong is angry with him and he is jealous of my friendship with my Uncle Corey. I of course am extremely fucking uncomfortable. I figure that at this point, the company is gonna let him finish his 2 month probation instead of actually firing him. One day. Satan tells me that he has a meeting with HR in the afternoon. I figure, thank you god they are finally going to fire this guy. Later that afternoon he tells me, “HR says I didn’t pass probation!” I try my best to look shocked. I think, oh my god finally. Then he says, “they’re going to let me work for two more weeks.” I think, what in the actual fucking shit is this fucking fuckery. HR is going to actually let him work until the very last second of his probation, when he should have been fired in week 1. And worst of all… now he has nothing to lose. The last week is here. I try to not even be in the office at all, I don’t wanna be there when that ticking time bomb explodes. Apparently, when I was out, another dramatic scene featuring Satan ensued. While Satan was clocking in, our Vietnamese-American co-worker had coughed. Let’s call him Dragon. Satan thought that Dragon had purposefully coughed on him, so Satan then coughs in Dragon’s face. As they go back to their respective desks, I heard that Satan challenged Dragon to a fight and Dragon called him out to brawl outside. Satan didn’t go for it. This dude was all bark and no bite. I think Skywalker called him a fat fuck, and that made me giggle like the demonic possessed girl from the Exorcist after killing Merrin. If we were in America, I think Satan would have been one of those mass-murdering shooters. Luckily, we were in Vietnam and the ‘gun-shops’ here only sell condoms. He wasn’t gonna lube us to death.

Satan had a couple days left before he was officially done working with us, and every afternoon he asked me to have lunch with him, and every afternoon I found an excuse not to. On his last day of work I almost didn’t even go into the office, I could imagine this dude coming into work with a backpack full of anthrax. Fortunately, nothing happened that day. At the end of the workday as he was leaving the office for the last time he said to me, “we have to hang out soon!”

The nightmare was finally over, and Satan’s desk was replaced with my bro Niall’s actually brother, Big Dog. I never saw Satan again, I only heard his voice at a bar once and I got the fuck out of there faster than you can say “perrea papi perrea.” Feel free to Google image that previously quoted expression. Enjoy.

With Satan gone, our little neighborhood of desk buddies could finally enjoy some peace. It consisted of: Skywalker, Big Dog, Mr.Bean, Draco Malfoy, and I. Good times. Eventually corona appeared in the form of a virus instead of beer, and our office has been closed ever since. Once again, fuck you corona.

[momtemplative]

MASKED.

1.

In a house with two young kids, our quickest sanity-stabilizer in this COVID era was to head outside and go for a walk, or a bike ride, or to roller skate. We’d pay close attention to the proximity of passers-by, but typically the grassy fields by the bike paths were an open canvas for the kids to blow off some steam. And we’d all return home a bit winded and slightly more stable. 

Then, a little more than two weeks ago, a strong recommendation came from Governor Polis for everyone to wear masks in public. But what, pray-tell, was “public” referring to? 

Here’s what the CDC endorsed: wearing cloth face coverings in public settings where other social distancing measures are difficult to maintain (e.g., grocery stores and pharmacies) especially in areas of significant community-based transmission.

So that’s what we assumed Polis recommended as well. That night we even had a happy hour gathering with our neighbors, all at least 6-feet-away, but without masks. We didn’t feel like we were being sneaky or non-compliant, we were simply following the guidelines as we understood them. 

But then we started seeing people in their yards wearing masks, and on walks wearing masks— in addition to 6-feet! There was an eerie infiltration of mask-wearers, and, with that, the non-verbal communication of an abrupt change of protocol. Our sacred, oft-traveled, 1,000-step bike path that loops around the block started to feel unfamiliar, as if it were a movie set peppered with strangers, wearing homemade cloth curtains over their cheeks. 

We quickly felt like a minority out there with our bare faces.

2.

An afternoon walk was once a favorite time of day—quarantine or not. Quickly though, in light of the current mask situation, and before I began to wear one, my brain started to get stuck in a grinding pattern of managing everyone else’s whereabouts in accordance with my own. I noticed that I was judging those who were masked, at least in part because I was sure they were judging me. 

Their judgment and my judgment felt cut from the same cloth: judgement as a way of controlling the uncontrollable. There is so much confusion about protocols. So much fear of the radio broadcast of white noise and speculation that is to be our future. All these feelings get lumped together into just trying to do it right. I returned from one particular walk stiff as a board and deeply grumpy.

“Jesse,” I said, “I’m not going on a walk again without a mask.”

3.

I opted out of any domestic sewing of masks at first, and started with my old-lady cardigan tied around my face like a waist. I then upgraded to a bedazzled bandana that I bought to fill Opal’s Easter basket last year. I love the happy fabric, but it wouldn’t stay up over my nose for anything beyond the liquor drive-through (my singular biweekly errand). Store-bought masks are not an option. They’ve been back-ordered for weeks and if the stock is replenished, it needs to be saved for the blessed healthcare workers.

By the next weekend, Jesse and Opal wore masks that they made from a YouTube video, using mustard-yellow t-shirts and rubber bands, while on a bike ride. That ride turned out to be very brief because, according to Opal, it was so hard to breathe. 

4.

The solidarity and confidence that come from wearing a mask are helpful and significant, sure. But the act of wearing a mask changes the experience entirely. 

On a purely physical level, it muddles your peripheral vision, steams up your glasses, makes it hot and very hard to breathe. 

On a social-emotional level, the masks create a real separation between people. It feels similar to being at a costume party—even if the invite list includes most of your friends, everyone is suddenly anonymous. 

I walked behind two people (in masks) and a dog from a block away that I thought were my beloved next door neighbors. I even hollered at them. (They didn't hear me.) Then I got closer and realized it was a different dog and very much not my neighbors. It’s all very disorienting.  

5.

One week in, and Opal has taken Polis’s suggestion as gospel. Of course, I don’t blame her. Sometimes when we are out and about, so is the rest of the neighborhood. During those times, the mask feels safe and dare-I-say comforting. (Like we are good, complaint citizens. Go us.) But other times, there is nobody outside. I tell Opal, “Sweetie, we can keep our masks around our chins until we see someone (dozens of feet away!) and then put up our masks.” 

Opal’s reply: NOT A CHANCE.

I try to imagine what it would be like to experience all this at age ten. What other such details has her system become accustomed to over the last month? Zoom call playdates, online school, little sister around all-the-effing-time. Maybe some feelings come out sideways? Maybe everything seems overwhelming and busy even though very little is happening?

In the olden days, before COVID, any sort of outdoor trek was soul-nourishing for all of us. It ticks a lot of boxes: sunshine, fresh air, exercise for me and the dog and the kids, a brain reset. Now, masked, such an activity is beyond taxing. Ruth has no desire to keep her mask on and she’s a runner. We can bribe her with a lollipop to stay in the stroller, but the girth of the BOB, along with the leashed (80-pound) dog requires skill and intentional footing on an average day. Trying to juggle it all through a face-drape is the emotional equivalent of walking through tar. A guaranteed headache.

Returning to our backyard, with its creaky swingset and patchwork yard, and removing our masks (along with the associated invisible constraints) is beyond restorative.

“That’s the best part about a mask,” Opal said. “Taking it off and having the air taste so fresh and cold again.”

6.

On Sunday morning—a few days ago and two solid weeks into the mask-in-public rules of conduct—the kids were scattered on the floor watching Frozen while I folded laundry and Jesse tinkered away at the sewing machine. Project: to sew face-masks that fit each of us properly. It was a lovely scene of the times. I would imagine Norman Rockwell painting such an episode if he were alive during COVID. A family of four (plus cat, plus dog) in their natural weekend habitat. Slow to dress, sipping juice or coffee, and, sewing face masks.

“Ruth,” Jesse said, “Come on over here and try this on to see if it fits.” Ruth scurried over to him to try on her mask like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Later that day, I walked our dog wearing the mask Jesse so lovingly crafted for me (after three fittings). It was exquisite, hands-free, spacious around the mouth. He even used the sweetest yellow-petal, summer dress fabric. When I returned, I kissed him straight through the mask.

7.

In spite of a good fit, it still takes exponentially more effort to greet someone while masked—you have to yell or over-gesture to compensate for the fact that both of your faces are completely erased. Because we wear ours primarily outside, most people are in sunglasses with their masks. But if not, they are far enough away where eye-reading is not an option. It’s all a straight-up guessing game.

More often than not, for the sake of simplicity, it’s just me and the dog these days. Typically, I have my dog’s leash in my left hand, and a steamy bag of his shit in my right that gets carried for countless unpleasant blocks. This is due to the lack of public trash facilities on the neighborhood routes I find are easier to navigate within the guidelines of 6-feet-between. Bike paths are pretty tight if there isn’t open space to veer off on either side. And now I’ve got my mask on, and fogged-up sunglasses. The uniform is similar to that of someone on Halloween in a last-minute ghost-sheet costume, with just the eyes cut out, cobbling along with both hands full. This is not a “path is the journey” sort of moment. I’m lucky if I can twitch out a head-nod or an elbow-wave to a passer-by.

It feels important to counteract the separation that has become synonymous with health and life. But I’d be lying if I said I was able to muster a greeting every time.

8.

In our culture, masks (when not worn in a medical setting) often represent sinister actions—bandits or bank robbers or the KKK who want to hide defining features.

For many Asian countries, mask-wearing was a cultural norm even before the coronavirus outbreak. In East Asia, many people are used to wearing masks when they are sick or when it's hayfever season, because it's considered impolite to sneeze or cough in public.

The 2003 Sars virus outbreak, which affected several countries in the region, also drove home the importance of wearing masks, particularly in Hong Kong, where many died as a result of the virus. Says the BBC news: “One key difference between these societies and Western ones, is that they have experienced a contagion before—and the memories are still fresh and painful.”

I recently read a story about two black men who were wearing masks at Walmart—fully in compliance and trying to keep themselves safe—when they were accosted by police. It hit me like a whip how individualized each of us are experiencing this pandemic. I skoff at my mask because it’s a pain-in-the-ass. But I’ll never be faced with also having to weigh the risks of racial profiling.

Delving further, I read that to-mask-or-not-to-mask has become a way to take a political stance. Trump supporters carrying “My body, My choice” signs, with an illustration of a crossed-out mask—this is a common image to see in the media right now.

The Washington Post said: “Even as governors, mayors and the federal government urge or require Americans to wear masks in stores, transit systems and other public spaces to contain the spread of the novel coronavirus, the nation is divided about whether to comply. And it is divided in painfully familiar ways — by politics and by attitudes about government power and individual choice.”

So, clearly, it is about so much more than just a mask.  

9.  

This just in. 

In a press conference that took place a few days ago, April 20th, Governor Jared Polis and state epidemiologist Dr. Rachel Herlihy outlined how life may change in Colorado as soon as next week, when “shelter-in-place” shifts to “safer-at-home.” They are essentially the same, just with a select few businesses opening with strict distancing rules and incremental shifts toward less physical distancing over all. Polis mentions nothing different about mask-wearing. Meaning, still wear them in public, especially if you can’t get 6-feet-between, especially if you’ve been exposed or have symptoms.

I noticed an immediate difference on my walk following his announcement. There was a family of four playing frisbee in an open space without masks! My initial feeling was wait, WTF? (And yes, I realize we are living in a strange state of affairs for my initial reaction to a beautiful family frolicking in a field to be contempt.) There was a man throwing a ball for his dog in a park that still had many visible CLOSED signs—also NO MASK. (Again, WTF??) I then gave a wide, grassy birth to a group of mask-free bike riders. 

I notice my mask feels more like a burden on my face without the unifying solidarity of everyone doing it. We all seem to be getting different memos.

There’s a huge relief that people are back to having faces, to be sure. I miss people. I love faces. But I have to admit that in spite of my hemming and hawing, I’d gotten used to feeling protected. It’s impossible to make sense of any of it. Even little Ruth came in yesterday and gave a tiny cough. “I’m sick,” she said, “Since I didn’t wear a mask today.” 

Circling back to the facts, the only thing worth grasping at right now, I am challenged to find any bit of news to suggest that our household need to be wearing masks while out on walks—under any level of regulation thus far. Neither Jesse nor myself are working outside of the house. We don’t visit with friends or family. (Big sigh.* We miss everyone terribly.) The odds of us being silent carriers are beyond slim. We are not immuno-compromised. So wearing masks these last few weeks—while still on socially distanced walks—could probably be categorized as an act of cultural alignment, an act of doing everything we can for the cause. 

As of right now, this moment, I do not see our mask-wearing as being impactful to our macro OR micro community. So, for the sake of preserving the sanity of our tiny culture for the long haul, I vote that we wear our beautifully-Jesse-crafted masks on our chins, like flattened feathers at the ready. 

“As it (the “safer-at-home” regulations) rolls off April 27, we need to figure out how to run the marathon now that we’ve run the sprint,” Governor Polis said in his most recent press conference. “I hate to break it to you, but the easy part was the sprint.”

[bechloeislegit]

14 Days of BeChloe Valentines

DAY 08 - GREAT DANE IN THE MORNING

Prompt from FanFiction User Lasleonas007: Chloe Beale's Great Dane puppy gets lost (it has been like a week), and Beca Mitchell finds him.

Beca Mitchell was out on her usual morning run on the beach behind her house. She was not one to want to do any form of exercise, but her trainer suggested it to help build up her stamina for her shows. She chose the early morning because the beach was usually deserted and the paparazzi hadn't come out yet.

She had been running for a while at a medium pace when the suddenly found herself flat on her back on the sand. All she could see looming over her was a huge head and tongue hanging out with drool ready to drop on her any second.

"Dude, get off," Beca grumbled as she pushed at the dog that decided she was a comfy place to lie down on.

She pushed and pulled and struggled but finally managed to get the dog, no beast, off of her.

"What the hell, beast-dog?" Beca yelled looking at the dog. She wiped at her chest where some drool had gotten on her. "Ugh! So not cool, dude!"

Beca stood and started brushing the sand off her while the dog sat on his haunches looking at her. "Who do you belong to?"

Beca looked up and down the deserted beach trying to find whoever this beast-dog belonged to. There wasn't anyone in sight.

Beca stepped lightly toward the dog. He was black and white, like a dalmatian but Beca knew from the size that this was no dalmatian. His head came to her chest, and when he landed on her, she swears he weighs almost as much as she does. She tried to see if he had a collar, but every time she moved to look the dog moved his head.

"Dude, your head is huge! Stay still."

She slowly brought her hand up and onto the top of the dog's head. He didn't move, and Beca stroked him down his neck while looking and feeling for a collar or a dog tag of some sort.

"Hmphf," Beca hissed out. "No such luck. I'll have to think of something else." She stood looking at him with her hands on her hips. She then started making 'shooing' motions with her hand. "Um, go home, boy. Go home. Go back to your giant dog house."

The dog jumped up and put his backside in the air and lowered his head as if he was bowing down to her. He was ready to play.

~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day Eight~~

Chloe Beale was beside herself. She was talking to her best friend and fellow teacher, Aubrey Posen.

"I don't know, Brey," Chloe said sadly. "I put him outside for a bit, and when I went to let him in, he was gone."

"Did he get out using the gate?" Aubrey asked.

"I checked," Chloe said. "It was still latched" She let out a small sob. "He's just a puppy, Brey."

"Calm down, Chloe," Aubrey said. "I'll be over in a bit, and we can go out looking for him. Okay?"

"Okay," Chloe said and sniffled. "Thanks, Brey."

Chloe ended the call and looked at the bright blue collar she held in her hand. She had just picked it up with his ID tag yesterday and didn't have a chance to put it on Apollo before she let him out. Chloe sighed and got dressed so she'd be ready to go searching when Aubrey got to her place.

~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day Eight~~

Beca picked herself up again and brushed more sand from her.

"Dude, stop!" Beca cried as the dog jumped around her barking and clumsily running into her. "SIT!" Beca yelled out, and the dog stopped and sat. "Good beast-dog. Good boy," Beca said. "Now stay!"

The dog sat looking at her, tongue hanging out and drool present at the corners of his mouth.

Since the dog sat when she told him to, Beca decided the best course of action was to leave the dog where he was and continue on her run. She turned to head back home when the dog started running next to her. She stopped.

"Sit," Beca commanded the dog, and he sat. "You can't come home with me. Go find your own home. I'm sure your mommy or daddy or whatever they call themselves is looking for you."

The dog sat on his haunches and looked at Beca.

"I can't believe I'm practically staring eye-to-eye with a damned dog," Beca muttered. "Stay!"

She starting running again and looked over her shoulder to see the dog sitting where she'd left him.

"Finally," Beca said as she continued her run.

Beca made it back to the steps leading from the beach to her house. Just as she started up the steps a white blur streaked by her knocking her into the wooden rail; it was the beast-dog. She thought she had left him down the beach and now, here he was, running up the steps to her house.

"NO!" Beca yelled and ran up the stairs after him. She yelled "Sit!" and the dog sat down on the top step leading to her home. He sat as ordered and patiently waited for Beca to join him.

~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day Eight~~

"Apollo!" Chloe yelled as she walked down the street near her home. "Here boy!"

Chloe stopped walking and looked around. It had been almost 24 hours since Apollo went missing and she was giving up hope of finding him.

"Let's take these flyers you made and put them up," Aubrey said. "Someone is bound to have seen him."

"Okay," Chloe said.

Chloe and Aubrey spent the next hour posting the flyers around the neighborhood. One lady walking by saw the flyer and stopped.

"I think I saw your dog," the woman said.

"Oh, my gosh, where?" Chloe asked excitedly.

"It was a few hours ago," the woman said. "He was running that way." She pointed in the opposite direction. "Toward the beach."

"Oh, thank you," Chloe said.

"You're welcome," the woman said. "I'll keep an eye out for him. I hope you find him."

"Thanks again," Chloe said. "Come on, Brey. Let's head down to the beach."

~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day Eight~~

Beca was in a stare down with the dog. The dog laid down and put his head on his paws.

"What's wrong, boy?" Beca asked suddenly concerned. "Are you thirsty? Do we want some water?"

The dog lifted his head and barked. "I guess that's a yes," Beca said with a laugh. "Come on, beast-dog. We'll get you some water and then you can be on your way."

The dog stood and followed Beca to the door. He waited for Beca to open the door and Beca looked at him.

"No, no way," Beca said. "You stay out here, and I'll get a bowl for your water. Now, sit."

The dog looked at Beca and sat. "Good boy."

Beca entered her house and made sure the dog stayed where he was. She closed the door and checked her cabinets for the bowl to use for water. Everything she had was breakable, so she looked around for something else. She found a plastic bucket in her kitchen closet and decided to use that.

The bucket was too big to fit under the faucet in her sink, so she decided to use the faucet outside. She opened the door and peeked out to make sure the dog wasn't going to charge at her. The dog was gone.

Beca was a bit surprised at the disappointment she felt. She'd only been around the beast-dog for about an hour, how could she possibly be missing it?

Beca decided to fill the bucket with water and leave it out in case the dog came back.

~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day Eight~~

Chloe and Aubrey got to the beach and decided to separate and go in opposite directions looking for Apollo.

Chloe called for Apollo and looked up and down the beach as she walked. She kept glancing at the water because she knew how much Apollo liked to chase the waves.

After an hour she turned to go back where she and Aubrey had started. She made her way back and found Aubrey waiting for her, but no Apollo. She sighed heavily and walked over to Aubrey.

"I'm worried about him, Brey," Chloe said. "He's just a puppy."

"We'll find him, Chlo," Aubrey said. "Let's call it a day, and we'll look for him tomorrow."

"But what about tonight?" Chloe said sadly. "He's going to be so afraid out in the dark. Alone and thinking I abandoned him or something."

"He'll be fine," Aubrey said leading Chloe away from the beach.

~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day Eight~~

Beca heard what sounded like a dog barking and opened her front door to see beast-dog. He was sitting in front of her door barking at the pizza delivery guy.

"Dude! Stop barking," Beca said as she came outside. She looked at the pizza guy who was frozen in place. "I'm sorry. I'll just take that." Beca took the pizza box out of the guy's hand. "You, um, you okay?"

"I'm afraid of dogs," the guy said.

"You're fine," Beca told him. "If he was going to do anything to you he would have done it already."

"Enjoy your pizza," the guy said and ran to his car.

Beca turned to the dog. "Why are you here?"

The dog stood looking at her. Beca walked by him and patted him on the head. She opened the door to go into the house and was practically knocked down as the dog shot past her.

"Dude, you have got to stop doing that!" Beca yelled as she ran in after him. She stopped short when she saw him jump up and lay himself on the sofa. "Get down this instant."

Beca put the pizza box on the coffee table and put her arms around the dog's neck wrestling him off the sofa. "And stay down."

Beca huffed as the dog sat looking at her. Beca wondered how she was going to get this beast-dog out of her house. She decided she'd worry about it after dinner.

~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day Eight~~

Chloe sat on her sofa looking at the empty space beside her. She had only had Apollo for a couple of weeks before he disappeared, but she missed him.

Chloe sighed and decided to fix a light dinner. She threw together a salad and sat watching some reality TV show while she ate.

Chloe heard a dog bark and jumped up to look outside. She was excited thinking Apollo had come back. It wasn't him. It was her neighbor from down the street walking their dog.

She gave the neighbor a friendly wave and went back inside. She dumped her salad in the trash and went to bed.

Chloe changed and brushed her teeth. When she came to her bed, she looked down at it with tears in her eyes. Apollo had slept beside her since she brought him home. It was nice to have someone, something to cuddle with.

Chloe wiped a tear as she climbed under the blankets. "Be safe wherever you are, Apollo," Chloe whispered into the darkness.

~~2019 BeChloe Valentines - Day Eight~~

Beca woke to something scratching at her bedroom door. It took her a minute to figure out what it was; it was the beast-dog. She groaned and put the pillow over her head, but the dog started whining.

Somehow, the beast-dog adopted her, and she hated to admit it, but he had grown on her. So much so that she had food for him with his very own food and water bowls. She felt bad leaving him outside at night. She worried he might get hurt or that it might rain, so she made him a bed in the kitchen.

He also had a nice new collar and a retractable leash. She knew he belonged to somebody, but until they claimed him, he was hers.

"Shit," Beca grumbled. "He probably has to go out."

Beca forced herself out of bed and opened the door to find the dog staring at her.

"Let me get dressed, and we'll go for a run on the beach," she told the dog.

The dog sat as if he understood her. Beca changed into her running clothes and shoved her phone, wallet, and keys in the pocket of her short-sleeved hoodie. As soon as she stepped out of the bedroom, the dog headed for the stairs.

Dude, as Beca called him, was waiting patiently at the back door for her. He knew the routine.

Beca checked the calendar on the refrigerator and saw that it was Valentine's Day. She grabbed the leash and hooked it to Dude's collar.

"Dude, maybe we'll get breakfast at that little diner down the beach," Beca said. "It's Valentine's Day, and I bet they have heart shaped pancakes. Would you like that boy?"

Dude barked and wagged his tail. Beca steered clear of the tail. It only took one time getting too close to realize her mistake. The bruise was almost gone.

Beca opened the back door and let Dude out; she then made sure to lock it before she walked Dude around the yard so he could take care of his bathroom needs. Once he was done, she led him down the steps to the beach.

They had been running for just a few minutes when Dude saw some birds and took off after them. The leash hit its full length, and Beca was pulled to the ground and actually dragged a foot or so before she thought to let go of the leash.

Dude had scared off the birds and came trotting back to Beca and sat staring at her. "Thanks a lot, Dude," Beca said, and she stood and brushed the sand off. "Every day. You do this every day. You're never going to catch them, Dude."

Dude tilted his head and looked at Beca brushing the sand off. "Don't judge me," Beca said. "I have high hopes that you won't do it and set myself up for failure and end up with sand in places it shouldn't be."

Beca picked up the leash and let it tighten up a bit before they started running again. Beca used Dude to set the pace, and he was running along about two feet in front of her when he suddenly stopped. Beca couldn't stop herself in time and found herself tangled in the leash and dog limbs.

Dude started to run off, and Beca yelled: "Sit!" Dude stopped and sat.

He jumped up again before she managed to disentangle herself and stand up. Afraid he was going to take off again, she yelled "Sit!" and Dude sat. Beca noticed he was looking at someone running toward them.

"Apollo!" the voice yelled out.

Beca looked around to see who this woman was yelling at. Dude got excited and pulled the leash out of Beca's hand and went running toward the woman.

"Dude, no!" Beca yelled running after him. She stopped short when the woman dropped to her knees in the sand and started hugging him.

Beca stood back and watched. She smiled at how happy Dude seemed. She must be his owner, and he knows her.

"Um, hi," Beca said. "I take it Dude belongs to you."

"Dude?" the woman asked as she took her sunglasses off and put them on top of her head. She looked at Beca, and Beca's mouth went dry as she got a good look at the woman.

"Whoa," she muttered. The woman was gorgeous. But it was her eyes that Beca couldn't stop staring at.

"Are you okay?" the woman asked.

"Um, yeah," Beca said. "Sorry. So, he's yours?"

"Yeah," the woman said. "He got out of my yard about a week ago. I've been looking all over for him."

"I'm glad you found him," Beca said. "He knocked me down while I was running one morning. Then he kept coming back and he sort of adopted me. He didn't have any tags, but I figured at some point he'd go just go home."

"He's still a puppy,' the woman said. "I haven't had a chance to start training him yet. I was worried something awful happened to him."

"He's a puppy?" Beca asked astonished at this revelation. "He's almost as big as I am and probably weighs as much as I do."

The woman giggled and stood up. "I'm Chloe Beale," she said and stuck out her hand.

"Beca Mitchell," Beca said and took Chloe's hand in hers.

Chloe's mouth dropped open, and she stood frozen, so it looked as if they two were just holding hands.

"I'm sorry," Chloe said after a few seconds. She pulled her hand back. "I know you. I mean, I know who you are. I love your music."

"Thanks," Beca said and blushed.

Beca tried to cover her blush by bending over and picking up Dude/Apollo's leash. The dog took that to mean it was time to start running again. He took off, and it caught Beca by surprise. She was jerked forward and fell into Chloe, knocking them both the to ground with Beca laying on top of the redhead.

Beca let go of the leash and looked down at Chloe. "I'm so sorry," Beca said and pushed up to get off of Chloe. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Chloe said.

Beca stood and put her hand out to help Chloe up. They both brushed the sand off their clothes. The looked at each other and started laughing.

"I'm sorry," Beca said. "I can't tell you the number of times Dude had me eating sand."

"You call him, Dude," Chloe said. "Why?"

Beca chuckled and said, "He didn't have a tag, so I didn't know if he had a name. I call everyone dude and started talking to him, so dude just stuck." Beca blushed when she saw the grin Chloe was wearing. "And I can't believe I just told you I was talking to your dog like he was a person."

"That's okay, I do it, too," Chloe said. "His real name is Apollo. I read a book about Great Danes, and it said they were the Apollo of Dogs. I liked it, so I named him Apollo."

"That's so much cooler than why I call him Dude," Beca said.

Beca and Chloe stood and watched Apollo frolicking around a bit. Beca went over to him and grabbed his leash. She led the dog back over to Chloe.

"I believe this belongs to you," Beca said handing the leash over to Chloe.

"If you, um, give me your address I'll be sure and get the lease and collar back to you," Chloe said. "And, I'll pay you back for them."

"Don't worry about it, just keep them," Beca said. "Actually, if you give me your address I'll bring the things I bought for him to your house. I have a huge-ass bag of dog food, but I don't have a dog of my own, so you'd be doing me a favor."

"Um, totes, that'd be great," Chloe said. "Well, I guess I should get going."

Chloe turned to go; Beca grabbed her arm.

"Wait. I sort of promised Dude, I mean, Apollo heart-shaped pancakes in honor of Valentine's Day. Would you like to join us? There's a little diner just down the beach."

"I love pancakes," Chloe said. "You'll have to let me invite you to my place for dinner. You know, as a thank you for taking such good care of Apollo."

"That's not-" Beca started and stopped. Instead, she said, "You know what? I'd love to have dinner with you."

"Great," Chloe said. "It's a date."

"The first of many, I hope," Beca said.

"I hope so, too," Chloe said.

[scoobydoominuscoobydoo]

It’ll Be A Sensation

AO3

FF.Net

I think I’ve officially run out of pansies to count outside our apartment window, Mrs. Dabney can only plant so many flowers across the street.

Of course, it wouldn’t have killed her to use a variety of colors – red had become rather dull.

Yawning, I stretch out on our window seat and rest my head down.

I send a glance back in the direction of my pet, who was occupying himself with click clacking until the wee hours of the morning on the typewriter. Deadlines or not, it had been over a fortnight since my pet had gotten some proper sun outside of our afternoon walk.

Turning my attention back to the “riveting” pansies, I hear him yawn.

He rubs his hands over his face and through his hair, exhausted from the time he’s spent checking his own notes.

Ever since he had been asked to write this cookbook, he’d hardly have time to focus on his personal life.

I was mostly concerned with his social life.

No matter how many hard whacks to the back he’d get, I knew that Shaggy wasn’t exactly in love with the bachelor lifestyle. And I definitely agreed with that – even more so, I’d say it was completely uneventful and boring. Our small home only ever filled with sighs, yawns, and that infinite click clacking – nothing there to be proud of.

Sure, we had friends that we could go and have the occasional well-to-do with.

But… that was hardly the type of “companion” I figured Shaggy needed.

I imagine that if there was anything to free him from his workaholic ways - it’d be a healthy female.

Now I was a total novice when it came to the standards of human beauty – what smelled bad to me smelled amazing to other men evidently.

But after living in the big city for a few years, I think I have a fairly broad idea of what to look for.

Unfortunately, the closest I’ve ever gotten to finding my pet a decent mate was through window shopping. Which hardly counted for anything because plenty of ideal specimen had passed by our building multiple times.

And I had no way of stopping them.

I’m sure any of them would be very eager to make my pet happy.

I heard the chime of the clock – twelve p.m. had arrived – the best time of day for window shopping.

The click clacks counted out the seconds until the first woman passed by, she didn’t look old or sickly. Things were looking up already!

And then I saw her yelling out something incoherent at her supposed companion, who she was also dragging by the neck on one of those horrid leads. I furrowed my brow and shook my head, ‘Definite no.’ I thought.

That woman was just the first of a long line of near misses.

Too rich looking.

Too old.

Not old enough.

Too busy being chased by the police.

It was like this every day, my life, just trying to find a woman that wasn’t clearly full of herself, old enough to be Shaggy’s grandmother, or daughter, or a menace of the law.

Frustrated, I drag one of our unread magazines in front of me.

A blonde woman with bright red lips and long legs posed on the cover page – her close-mouthed smile planting a lot of questions in my mind, ‘What on earth is she smiling about?’ Being at the top. The woman that was being dragged away in handcuffs looked a little like her – but Shaggy deserved more than just a beautiful mate. He deserved a smart and kind one, somebody who would understand and help him adapt to a life with less click clacking and more plates of his food being left on the floor.

Somebody kind and sporting a beautiful smile, who wasn’t afraid to rub my belly.

And that was when it clicked in my mind, a flash of red and purple before my mind turned those colors into shapes. And then those shapes became a woman.

My eyes could have followed any other woman walking along, but they stayed glued to her.

Something about this creature made me sit up and lean against the window.

She was grinning brightly down at the book she was holding in her hands, sending glances down at the small dog walking alongside her.

With no clear leash, I noted.

Now I was already given a special feeling about this one, the smile on her face and the bounce in her step telling me so much about her.

But as soon as I saw her partner walking next to her, my mind had been totally made up.

Somehow, someway, I was gonna stop the two of them – and Shaggy was gonna be with me.

-

After a chorus of barks and scratches at our front door, insisting I take Shaggy out for a walk, he let out an annoyed groan, “Scoob you’re just trying to get our neighbors mad at me, aren’t you?”

He dodged piles of clothes and his (now broken) umbrella, yanking his keys from the paper-covered table.

I saw him wince as the midday sunlight hit his eyes and he recoiled back into the shade for a moment before seeing that I wasn’t stopping for him.

“Scooby! Like if you don’t slow down the neighborhood watch lady is gonna make me put the leash on you.” I huffed, Shaggy wasn’t in any hurry to make it to the park – which is where the mystery dog and her pet most likely went – at this rate his leisurely pace was gonna result in him losing the love of his life.

That was when an idea popped into my head, and few minutes later I was dragging Shaggy by his arm, ‘Thank goodness these nightmarish things work both ways.’

I ignored the many complaints and orders to slow down, and the sound of him almost tripping over a tree root. There would be time to be punished during the wedding reception, if he had gotten Shaggy out here in time.

There was no way that angel and Shaggy’s perfect match could have sped through the park on a day like this.

That’d be criminal.

Unless you were doing it for the sake of love.

Like he was.

Right now.

Damn it, where was she?!

There was no way he was gonna let that one and a million chance at Shaggy finding love just disappear without him ever even getting at least a glance at her. That would be my ultimate crime against humanity.

Dreary, gray, early spring sunlight shone through the newly revived treetops – acting as no help to my search.

I swerved my way through the endless lines of pathways and even dragging Shaggy through unkempt bushes. Ready to deal with his wrath later, or as angry as Shaggy was capable of being. That wasn’t the priority right now.

My heartbeat began to pick up the pace as dread set in and I realized that I had taken too long.

Part of me had already given up – prepared to be trapped in that room with a never ceasing click clack and growing dark lines under Shaggy’s eyes.

And then that flash of red blurred across my vision, clear and distinct as ever.

She’s here, thank God she’s still here.

I make a sharp turn towards the bench she’s sitting at, nearly sending Shaggy careening into a tree, and I see that same bright smile tugging at her lips. Occasionally interrupted by the shaking of her shoulders as she’d chuckle softly at the story’s antics.

I had been so excited to see her and the charming companion resting next to her, that it hadn’t occurred to me that I didn’t have a plan.

When I finally dragged my pet’s sorry butt to the bench, where were they gonna go from there?

Knowing Shaggy, he’d avoid eye contact and say nothing before dragging me away from her and the lovely, cocker.

Poor man was never gifted with talking to the ladies.

I turned and sent a glance up at him, he was sending me a very similar, confused look.

“What are you doing bud?” Is what he was communicating to me.

Which was a good question, exactly what was I doing?

Huffing, I agreed to make sure they actually saw each other before I made any further movements. But as soon as I turned my attention back to the bench, both the perfect mate and the lovely dog had left. Fate was just not gonna be on my side today was it?

Immediately I set off, there was no way I was gonna get that lucky a second time – I absolutely needed to catch up with her otherwise I’ll lose both of them forever.

I sped down the pathway, my vison centering on what was in front of me, staying attentive with the hopes of see that bright red hair. How I wish Shaggy could detect the gravity of the situation so he’d bother to let me run without fear of sending him face-first into the pavement. And that was when I saw her, with the small, fluffy companion alongside.

The end of our bachelor lives was just within my grasp and growing closer.

And then, it was growing farther away.

“Alright Scoob, this has been a fun workout and I’ll be sure to remember it fondly when I see all the bruises on my shins. But I can’t keep letting you drag me through the park, it’s making me hungry.”

No Shaggy!

Please don’t give up on my cause!

Not when she’s right there!

The tugging at my neck didn’t relent and now I was regretting letting him put the leash on in the first place.

As that flash of red began to shrink from my sight I growled – I wasn’t going to return to a life of yawning without giving this a real shot. There was only so much I could do for my pet, not enough to prevent loneliness.

Using all the strength I had, I began to pull.

‘I just need to get to her and then it’ll go on from there.’

Never had something relatively close felt so far.

One step after the other, I made sure to anchor myself each time, this was gonna need to be quick otherwise Shaggy would become exasperated and just pick me up.

In a few short moves, I reached the red and made a quick loop around her legs – she let out a surprised cry but I didn’t give her or Shaggy anytime to process.

All at once, I had tied their legs together and forced them to see each other.

I grinned proudly, now I was just going to let nature take over.

The little cocker spaniel stood across from me, her face contorted in worry, it’d only take her a moment to understand.

The two pets struggled to get balance as they wriggled around, “Ma’am I’m so sorry I – I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” Shaggy said this as he attempted to bend down and free them of their fabric shackles.

The grey light and the soft babbling of the brook next to them added quite a lovely soundtrack to their meeting.

The sound of them both splashing into said brook was less lovely.

On the bright side the leash had unraveled.

The small spaniel sent him a glare and leapt into action, jumping into the brook to chase after Red’s runaway book.

Speaking of Red, I have to say she is quite the complainer when it comes to being drenched.

“This was my newest blazer, oh dear the cold water’s gonna ruin it! A-And my skirt, th-the colors are gonna bleed everywhere!” She sniffled as Shaggy offered both of his hands down to her, she stared at them blankly for a moment before grabbing onto them and letting him pull her up.

She then returned to complaining, “I-If you can’t even control your dog on a leash then maybe you shouldn’t take him out at all!”

“Yes ma’am I really am so sorry… I’ll pay to get everything dry cleaned for you.”

The woman stared at him blankly as she sniffled again.

Then she looked away, marching out of the brook with a puddle of freezing water following after her, “I think you’ve done enough already sir…” Her companion returned with the book clenched in her jaw, stopping right next to me and giving her whole body a good shake.

I closed my eyes as the barrage of droplets attacked me.

“Come along Nova, I need to get out of this outfit quickly.” As she turned away and began to leave a thought crossed my mind, ‘Had I messed up?’

And then the woman let out a loud sneeze, pulling me from my thoughts and dragging Shaggy’s attention away from glaring at me.

“Oh fantastic.” The lady said bitterly as she turned back toward the brook to squeeze out her soaked handkerchief.

Amazingly, Shaggy moved into action on his own, going toward her while searching his own jacket pocket.

“Here – um – have mine….” He said as he found what he was looking for and presented it. The two of them stared at the completely soaked article of fabric, and there was dead silence between them.

And then, that smile returned to her face.

A soft chuckling filled all the empty space, and it quickly evolved into hysterical laughter as she leaned forward to brace her weight against him, resting her hand on his shoulder. Soon both of them were in an uncontrollable fit as they continued to lean against each other.

Somehow, the little dog had found her way next to me without my knowing, as I looked down at her I saw that glimmer of recognition in her eyes.

Now she realized what I had done and she smiled up at me.

I returned that smile and brought my attention back to the two laughing idiots before me.

[crimsxnrebellion-blog]

Homecoming

[This is basically some fluff I've wanted to write since the new trailer for DMC 5 came out. How I want Dante's homecoming to go, essentially. Give me something cute and nice before you rip my heart out, Capcom.]

He had taken it all for granted. Temperatures that weren’t scorching hot or limb-freezing cold. The crispness of autumn had begun to creep in on summer’s heat. Not too hot, not too cold. He breathed in the scents of his neighborhood: the comfort food from the diner, cookies and cakes from the bakery, the smell of rain to come, car exhaust, garbage, sewage, wet dog from packs in the alleys, piss, alcohol from Bullseye Bar. He thought he would never get the stench of rot and death and fire and misery from his nose; everything smelled sweeter. Moans of the damned and the clash of weapons were replaced by the rumble of passing cars, the chatter of people walking by or inside a café or walking through the park, barks, screeches, and the scuttling of paws big and small on the concrete.

For the first time in what he could only assume was years, Dante felt alive.  

He didn’t know how long he had been in the demon world. Time passed differently there. Ten, twenty, fifty years could have passed even though everything looked the same, save for a few upgrades and a few buildings for sale. As he walked the streets, clothes torn, disheveled hair, smudges of blood and who knew what else on his face and neck he guessed by the stares he invoked, he had nothing more on his mind than to go home. To faceplant on his bed and sleep—truly sleep—until he woke up again.  

Home. He truly was home. He thought he would never see it or his friends who had become family again. On numerous occasions, he thought he would die there, picked off by some crafty demon or overpowered by another. If not dead, trapped for all eternity. But, he had made it, and he wasn’t bothered by anything. Not the stares. Not the cat scurrying after a rat, nearly tripping him. Not the distant rumble of thunder or the first raindrop to plop on his right cheek.  

Dante reached the steps of Devil May Cry, a smile—perhaps the first genuine smile he’d worn in ages—crept onto his lips. With the neon pink sign off, the letters gray and nearly blending in with the walls, the building faded into the background with the ones around it. Unassuming. Bleak. Boring. He absently wondered if anyone had kept the place up for him. Considering the Devil Arms and dangerous artifacts he kept, he hoped Trish or Lady would at least check in once in a while. Make sure no one robbed the place and opened up a portal to hell.

He skipped up the steps two at a time, fishing his keys from his pocket. He was surprised they survived the ordeal, but grateful. He had a spare in the lamp by the door, but who knew if it was still there. Key fit neatly inside the lock—a good sign, meaning no one had sold the place off or changed the locks in his absence—and the hybrid turned it. He pushed open the door with the zeal of a child on Christmas morning. Of a man who thought he would never see his home again.

To his surprise, the place had been cared for, save for a fine layer of dust here and there. The office looked almost exactly as he had left it, decorations and all, but sans the pizza boxes he had most likely left behind. His eyes drank in everything: the pool table, the jukebox, his leather couch and matching coffee table. He wandered over to his desk. Cleared of the normal beer bottles, magazines, and case files that usually littered the surface, all the remained were the antique phone and the framed photo of his mother, both seemingly untouched.

The latter Dante lifted up gingerly, as if it might crumble in his hand by a mere touch. He brushed dust from the glass protecting the image as he rested his hip against the desk. His chest tightened and he felt tears burn his eyes. This was real. He was home. He escaped that literal hell and home. He wiped the tears from his eyes with his forearm as he smiled down at his mother. He did this for her. For all the humans who got caught up in the bull shit demons decided to inflict on them. To make sure no one went through what he did, or met the fate of his loving mother and brother. For Lady and Trish. Patty and Lucia. It all started with her.

“Don’t move or I’ll blow your damn head off.”

Lost in his own thoughts and emotions, Dante failed to hear the door open or the click of the pistol’s safety as it was seamlessly drawn and pointed at his head. That voice. He knew it better than any at this point in his life, even after so long. Despite the threat, and that usually the voice meant he was about to get scolded about his cleanliness or eating habits, or given some crappy job in the middle of nowhere, or nagged about his debt, or asked for comfort because no one else could understand the shit she’s been through, he couldn’t be happier to hear it. To know she was still alive.

Dante set the frame back on his desk and raised his hands in surrender. “You’ve tried that one me before, babe. When we first met.”

He heard her gasp and, sensing the danger of being shot had passed, he turned around to face her. He kept his hands raised at shoulder height as a grin spread over his face. Her face had paled, and her plump lips had parted in a silenced cry of shock. She lowered the gun slowly back to her side and stared wide eyed at her demon hunting partner. And in that moment, she had never looked more beautiful to him. He wanted to drink in every detail about as she stood in the doorway, bathed in the murky light that struggled through midafternoon storm clouds.

The twitch of movement broke his concentration. “Wait, don’t move.” Lady halted a few steps from where she had frozen previously, her eyebrows dipping downward over bicolor eyes. “Just...stay right there for a minute, then you can punch me, shoot me, whatever you gotta do. I need this, Lady. I need to know it’s real.”

Her teeth sank into her lower lip as her free hand balled into a fist at her side, the other white-knuckled on her gun. Dante took the moment to study her. She hardly looked a day older than when he had last seen her; he couldn’t see a wrinkle on her face. The scar across her nose had faded more, he could barely see it from this distance. She wore simple clothing that day, a white button-down shirt, black shorts, and boots, and only carried a single pistol rather than her whole arsenal. He noted the faded scars on her legs and arms, memorized the newer, fresher ones. She looked beautiful to him, more beautiful than anything else possibly could in that moment.  

Though she tried to wear a brave face—more appropriately, a scowl—tears glimmered in her eyes, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away. As if she knew he noticed her tears, she decided he had had long enough to gawk. The famed demon huntress launched herself forward. Her arms flung around his waist and she buried his face in his chest. She choked out a sob and her gun clattered to the floor as her fists beat against his back. Dante felt hot tears wet his chest through the holes in his top.

“You stupid asshole...” She sniffed and managed one last strike to his back before collapsing against him. “I...I thought you were dead. We all did...”

Dante wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her. Her body against his was so warm. She smelled like vanilla and gun powder. Her skin felt soft to the touch. If he died in that moment, he would do so without a regret. The moment felt so perfect to him. So healing. All the horrors, all the shit he experienced in hell melted away as they held each other. The moment was so raw. So real. If he had felt alive before, upon stepping back in the human realm, this moment with Lady elevated him above alive. He would have kissed her if he thought it wouldn’t end with a bullet in his head. He wanted to kiss her.

“Sorry...didn’t have much time to text all of you.” He chuckled, earning him another punch to the ribcage. “Alright, alright. I really am sorry. I didn’t have a choice.”

Lady tried to take a step back, but he held fast to her. She huffed, but tilted her head back instead, resting her chin on his chest to look up at him. Red and blue eyes sparkled with tears, and the shed ones had left trails down her cheek. Dante raised a thumb to wipe them away. She sniffed, arms tightening around him.

“You’re a mess.” She brought a hand to his chest and fingered a burn hole in the leather. “And you smell.”

“Well, hell ain’t exactly full of rose gardens, babe,” he shot back. Nothing she or anyone else could say or do would ever wipe the grin from his face. “But, I’d be more inclined to shower if ya joined me. I’ve been fighting for probably years down there, and I could use the help reaching my back.”

Lady snorted. “Nice try, Dante.” She tried to pull away again but the half demon held onto her. She hummed and rested a gentle hand on his cheek. He tilted his face into her touch, her comforting featherlight fingers. “I’ll be right here when you get done. I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

Dante rested his hand on top of hers; she always knew just want to say. And this time, it wasn’t in the form of yelling at him. He brushed his thumb over the top of her hand and nodded. His arms fell to his sides, but he held her hand a moment longer.  

“Okay. I’ll be quick.”

[redditnosleep]

The Cat Lady

by theoddcatlady

I used to have three beautiful cats. Chloe, Jewel, and Mercy. My sweet girls. I had the perfect family. A husband Greg, my son Dylan, and of course the cats. Jewel was the snitch. Always pacing around the table, warbling for whatever we had. She had developed a taste for green beans. Mercy was the prim lady. Always cleaning herself. Always sitting on the bookshelves. And always found where I hid the cat treats.

Chloe was my favorite though. Whenever my lap was available, she was sitting there. At night she’d sleep at the foot of the bed. In the morning, she’d wake me by kneading my chest. Greg would laugh and say she was just making sure my heart hadn’t stopped. Her version of kitty CPR.

Greg and I were considering getting just one more when the accident happened. Greg was on the way to the clinic with the cats to update their vaccinations, and… well, I’m almost thankful that my babies didn’t suffer.

I lost my cats and my husband all at once. Dylan was already a grown man, and after barely four months after the loss he took off for college. I was all alone in my house, and my broken heart showed no sign of mending. Dylan barely came to visit, and after the first five years I was lucky to get a card for Christmas.

I became the ‘old crazy witch’ on the block with a dead husband. The kids made up their stories, I mostly just sat on my front porch and enjoyed the sun when it came out- the heat made my sore joints feel better.

Then I met Goliath.

My neighborhood is very close to a wooded park. On my days off from work at the grocery store Greg and I used to walk down those quiet paths. But there was also a feral cat problem there. I’d catch only glimpses of their skinny bodies and wild eyes.

But while I knitted on the front porch one morning, a streak of fur caught my attention, and I saw him. Immediately I dubbed him Goliath.

He was enormous. A tomcat that was bigger than some dogs, he had a mean face, matted long fur, and torn up ears. But he had the same coloring as Chloe, black with mottled orange and brown.

He came to a stop in front of the porch and froze, staring at me. I stared back. His tail twitched. His amber eyes bore right into mine.

“… Here, kitty kitty.”

Goliath slowly stepped closer to the porch, stopping at the steps. When I got up and tried to get closer, Goliath darted away and ran into the bushes. He didn’t trust me.

But I was so lonely. Even big old mean cat like that could give me some sort of companionship.

I went inside and got some canned tuna, opening it up and setting it at the steps. After I retreated to my chair, Goliath returned. He smelled the tuna. He licked his chops and stared at the can, but he was nervous around me. So I went inside. When I came back a few minutes later, Goliath was focused on licking out the can.

I made a friend that day.

Goliath took forever to get used to me, the mistrusting kitty who had never felt a human’s touch. But he didn’t leave, he took to sleeping in the tire swing in the front yard. Greg never got around to taking the damn thing down when Dylan grew too old for it. Goliath showed up for lunch every day, I’d feed him tuna and chatter to him. He’d purr like a semi truck.

Then one day he brought a date- a gray tabby with a short tail and a missing eye.

I went to the store that night and invested in bulk bags of dry food and the canned stuff.

Duchess, the gray tabby, didn’t hesitate to make herself at home in the tree outside. Neither did the others. It was a trickle, and never consistent. One day I’d just have Goliath and Duchess, the next there would be six or seven meowing babies ready for lunch.

For the first time in years, I felt whole. Like I had a purpose again, to take care of these innocent creatures. Most wouldn’t come close, but Goliath had become my friend. While I watched the sun set, Goliath would sprawl across my lap and would purr when I scratched his ears.

But of course, the new neighbors didn’t take so kindly to my new friends.

It was one family in particular, the Hubbards. The Hubbards had five boys between seven and fourteen. All of them were incredibly ill behaved. This was the same family that tried to claim that the lovely Hakim family was building bombs in their garage (their eldest daughter was actually building an automatic feeder for their dog) and that the reason that one house down the street wasn’t selling was because we had Alec and Derek living together ‘in sin’. The poor couple actually moved away from how awful the harassment got.

So when the wife Carla saw me with my cats, she threw a fit. She slammed her trash bin shut and marched over to my yard. The shyer cats ran off to the backyard, while Goliath sat content on my lap, unamused by this intruder.

“What is with all these cats?” She snapped.

Goliath just yawned and licked his paw.

I nervously smiled. “Good afternoon, Carla. These are just some strays I like to take care of. They’re harmless, maybe a bit fleabitten but they do no harm.”

Carla huffed and glared at Goliath. “That one looks like a wildcat, he could hurt my boys! And why are you wasting money feeding these… these strays, when you could have been donating to the church food drive?!”

To calm my nerves, I stroked Goliath’s ears. “Goliath won’t hurt a soul that won’t hurt him. And I did donate.”

“Well clearly you had some to spare.” Carla flipped her hair over her shoulder, looking down her nose at me. “My son already says the neighborhood calls you a witch. Stop attracting these diseased animals or I’ll be forced to call the police!”

Goliath tilted his ears back and hissed. Almost instantaneously, all the other cats turned and started to circle Carla, lurking, hair standing up their backs and growling. The scene was unnerving, to say the least. Carla backed away, growing pale, before she screamed, “Get away from me!” She kicked Kirk across the lawn before she dashed off.

The cats immediately gathered around Kirk, licking his face and purring to soothe him. I got up to check on him, nothing was hurt except for the neutered tom’s pride. I reassured them, the police wouldn’t do a thing about my babies, they weren’t destroying property or using the other yards as their toilet. They didn’t even meow loudly at night.

Well, they didn’t.

That night became an entire chorus of yowls. I looked out of my bedroom window to see a whole clutter of cats gathered in the Hubbard’s front yard. There had to be at least twenty five to thirty. In front was Goliath, I could make out his quivering hollers out of the rest.

The minute a light would go on inside the house, the cats would scatter, leaving none in sight. I think a few times I saw Carla’s husband John pitch something out of the window, probably a bottle considering the crash of glass, but as far as I could tell none made it close to a feline target.

Even though it was wrong, I giggled like a schoolgirl before shutting off the light and going to bed. I’d had cats in the past. I could sleep through it.

The next morning Carla was banging on my door, clearly exhausted after a night with no sleep. A paper was shoved in my face, I almost got bopped across the nose.

“Your neighbors aren’t happy with you, Doris.” Carla had the nerve to look smug. “We petition that you take care of your cat problem, stop feeding them, hire an animal control service, just do it!”

I took the petition and read down the list of names. There wasn’t as many as Carla would make me think- and the families that did sign up were her lackeys, the ones who kept their negativity to themselves until someone spoke up about it.

I sighed and lowered the petition. “Carla, it wasn’t anything I did that made the cats loud last night. They were in your yard, weren’t they?” My turn to look smug.

That knocked the wind out of Carla’s sails. She stammered for a second before snatching the petition out of my hands. “This is your last warning. If you don’t do something about these cats, I will!” With that, she stormed off, and would’ve looked awfully haughty… had not Goliath darted from the bushes and tripped her. Carla fell flat on her nose and Goliath ran up to me, rubbing himself against my ankles and purring before entering my house.

That was the first time Goliath entered my house, I’d never tried to take him in. But I was determined to keep him. A trim of his fur to get out the worst of the mats, a bath, and a collar later, Goliath looked like a real prince. A champion of his breed.

He seemed to have a goal in mind though. That goal was to drive the Hubbards insane. It was war and Goliath was the general.

The nightly choruses were lessened, just enough so that the neighbors couldn’t hear so well but completely obnoxious to the Hubbard household. The grass was going dead from cats pissing in the yard, along with piles of dirt from where they handled their business. Dead birds were strewn across their yard, and I heard Carla screaming about the fact a cat had taken an enormous poop right outside her door, ruining her heels.

Goliath got an extra pat on the back for that.

But the Hubbards weren’t going to play nice. Every day their boys would ride past my yard, yelling obscenities and chucking rocks at the cats. The slower ones would get struck and they would mew and cry out in pain. When blood was drawn Goliath would usher them inside and I’d care for them for the night.

It was a step too far when John put rat poison in his yard.

Duchess, poor Duchess. She’d mistakenly eaten half of the tuna can left in his yard, laced with the deadly ground up pellets. I found her barely alive on my porch.

All I could do was take her inside and make her comfortable.

All the cats came in, through the windows, through the cracked door, I think even some made it up from the basement. There was probably fifty cats, all sitting around me and Duchess as she was curled up on my lap, each breath growing lighter and lighter.

Goliath was the most distressed, pacing around, mewing, licking Duchess’ head every few seconds. I never knew a cat could love so much. When Duchess went lax and her breath came no more, he yowled so loudly I’m sure the whole town could hear it. A grieving cat, who lost his friend and love.

It was exhausting to dig the grave, but I had to do it for her. Duchess was nothing but sweet once I’d gotten her to come around. The cats stayed with me, mewing in distress and nudging at the small coffin I’d crafted for Duchess out of a box and some paints. She was a lady and she was going out in style.

Her body was lowered, the dirt covering the box, and I went to bed. Goliath slept with me that night, and I swore I would occasionally awake to hear him cry.

The next day I could barely get out of bed, but Goliath nudged me awake.

I had to take care of the others still, after all.

Carla was swearing and screaming at her car when I exited the house, and I could barely believe it. A single cat didn’t have much strength, but an army? Oh boy. The car was covered in cat pee and feces, the antenna chewed off, one of the windows was somehow broken and the seats were torn to hell.

She turned and saw me, foaming at the mouth in anger. “You!” She stormed over, her fists clenched. Goliath nudged me back and I hid behind the door, my throat dry.

“Y… yes?”

I’m sure the woman would have punched me if I hadn’t had the door between us. Instead, Carla started screaming. “That was my birthday present! I don’t know how you’re doing this, but this ends. Now!”

I took a deep breath and stood as tall and brave as a sixty eight year old woman can. “You killed one of them. Rat poison. You asked for it.”

“Like you’re going to miss that one! What is the matter with you?!”

I heard the chorus of hisses and growls from under my porch, Carla jumped out of her skin and shivered. She took a deep breath and glared.

“I swear, if it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to make sure each and every one of these cats ends up in the pound or as roadkill. And I mean it!”

With that awful, awful threat, she stormed off. I stumbled onto the porch and sat on my chair, too nervous to stand. “Oh, Goliath, what am I going to do?” I whispered.

Goliath licked my hand. His way of telling me it would be okay.

That evening I decided to stay out late. Watch the moon and the stars. The cats stayed with me rather than attack the Hubbards’ yard. The sun had just gone down when I heard the sound of children’s bikes.

It was the Hubbard boys, and they were armed with rocks again, the three youngest aiming at the cats who darted and dodged under the porch or into my backyard. I’m not sure if the oldest two were aiming for me or it was just an accident, but one rock smacked right next to my head… and the other cut open my forehead.

I cried out as pain exploded across my face and blood started to drip down my face.

Every cat stopped.

Goliath mewed and licked my face before he turned.

The growl he made wasn’t a typical cat’s sound.

It was like a demon from hell.

Goliath leaped from my lap and trotted closer to the boys, fur puffing out and continuing to growl. The rest of the cats ceased running and grouped up. Some of them I didn’t even see leaped down from the tree. I had to have over seventy cats in my yard. I didn’t even know so many had ever come to see me.

The eldest boy stopped his bike, the others falling in behind him. He pulled another rock from his bag. “Stupid cat!” He pitched his arm back…

And Goliath went for his throat.

I don’t really remember what happened. I think I blacked out. What I can remember is that Goliath grew… big. Even bigger than he already was. Even bigger than a lion. And the rest of the cats swarmed behind him, a hive mind of violence and with only one goal- kill.

When I woke up, it was past midnight.

There was no sign of the bikes. No boys. No army of cats, either. Just a few left, licking at a puddle in the street where the bikes had been abandoned.. It was a dry summer. There hadn’t been a puddle there earlier.

I stumbled back to my room, the bed cold and empty of my cat. I fell asleep in bed and dreamed of the ripping of wet flesh and the crunching of bones.

The next morning I woke up and there was Goliath, sleeping across the other pillow. He was fine, he wasn’t hurt. I tried to ignore the smell of blood in his breath as he nudged my face to get me up.

There was no sign of any bikes, or puddles. Just a normal plain street like the one I’d gotten used to living on.

There wasn’t many of the cats today, only four plus Goliath. These ones that weren’t present last night, either- Chip, Dill, Biscuit, and Bambi. Bambi had sprawled across my lap and was purring when the police cruiser pulled into my driveway.

Dill hid under the porch while Biscuit and Chip ran up to say hello.

Officer Holly Silva stepped out, with Carla in tow. Carla looked like she’d been crying, but when she saw me she smirked. I sighed and looked for Goliath but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Ma’am?” Holly held up her badge, even though she knew I recognized her. “I need to speak with you, please.”

Carla’s grin grew darker.

I invited Holly inside and we sat at the table together. Carla invited herself in and was standing in the corner, looking around my pristine house. “Thought it’d be more of a mess than this, given the animals you have,” She grumbled.

Holly ignored Carla before clearing her throat and looking at me. “Listen, Doris. Last night two of Carla’s sons came home shredded up and claiming you sicced your cats on them.” Holly took this moment to conspicuously look at Biscuit and Chip played with a ball of yarn, still quite kitten-y. “Her older three never returned home. Have you seen them?”

I reached up and touched my forehead. “I can’t really remember, last night I got my head bumped something awful.” I looked meaningfully at Carla, who sneered back. “It’s not anything serious, but no, I don’t remember where the boys went. I think they just rode past the house on their bikes, they were saying some quite nasty things, but that’s all I remember.”

Holly nodded and wrote that down. “Thank you, ma’am. That’s all I needed to know.”

“What?!” Carla looked ready to blow her top. “This isn’t close to all of the cats she had! My sweet Alexander said there had to be a hundred! Over a hundred!”

Holly snorted and her lips twitched. She somehow managed to remain professional. “Mrs. Hubbard, if Doris really owned over a hundred cats, I don’t think she’d be able to hide them this well in this two bedroom house.”

“Well… well…” Carla stammered before she looked around. “Where’s that big one? The awful one, the one that attacked my sweet son!”

Goliath. Oh no. Holly looked at me. “Is this all of them? I’m sorry, I have to ask.”

I looked around. “Well… Goliath should be here. Goliath? Come here, boy, no one’s gonna hurt you.”

“The officer is going to put him down the moment she sees that monster, don’t you try to pretend otherwise!” Carla’s eyes were full of murder, I was nearly about to start crying.

“Mew?”

I looked down.

There was a fluffy kitten, with black and orange fur and bright amber eyes. He jumped into my lap before hopping onto the table and sniffing Holly.

Holly examined his collar. “So, this is Goliath?” She couldn’t help it, she immediately started giggling. “The ironic naming style, I dig it. Hey, buddy, do you smell David? He’s my German Shepherd, he’d love to take care of a sweet lil thing like you…”

Carla was completely flabbergasted. She opened her mouth and shut it a few times before saying, “No, that… that’s not Goliath! Goliath is huge! He’s practically a mountain lion!”

“All right, Mrs. Hubbard.” Holly stood up and scratched Goliath behind the ears, who purred and teasingly batted at her hand. “That’s quite enough, I think your boys probably just are out playing somewhere. Let’s go now, you can help coordinate the search.”

I saw them out, Carla was fuming and now I was the one grinning. Carla turned to me and hissed, “This isn’t over. I will get the gun myself, and when the real Goliath shows up, I’m putting a bullet in his head.” With that nasty threat, she stormed back to her house.

I closed the door and turned around.

There was Goliath, sitting so proud, his normal self.

Nervous, I went to my knees. “G… Goliath? How… how did you do that?”

Goliath stepped forward and just batted at my hair. But I swear he smirked.

A few days ago the bones of a few adolescent boys were found. Picked clean. Carla didn’t even try to come over, the marks on the bones were larger than anything a cat could make. The word through the grapevine is that it’s probably someone’s escape pet lion. Adopted it as a baby and let it go when it was no longer cute.

But tonight, I’m holding a party. I invited most of my neighbors, I did my hair up all pretty like. I’m no longer going to estrange myself from my neighbors. Holly will be there, with her dog David. So will the Hakim family, the eldest girl is going to bring her boyfriend and his band. I’ll have to clear out the dining room to give them enough space but they’re fond of classic rock. Everyone’s responded enthusiastically.

Even my son Dylan’s going to come home, and bring his wife and twin children.

That should be enough noise to cover up Goliath and his army handling the Hubbards and their goons. In in the morning it’ll be either be interpreted as a mysterious vanishing or written off as another animal attack.

After all… how could a single cat maul a human being?

[thymika]

The Weight of a Crown 4: Becoming a Hero

A young Prince is supposed to learn various rules and abide by those for the rest of his life. My teachers used to wake me up early in the morning, my responsibility for the day was to write long paragraphs of rules at least a thousand times. Yes, it's expected to memorize all of those by the time a child becomes a pre-teen. One of those rules is: Do not steal. Such rule was never questioned, why would I steal? I have everything, money, food, water, shelter, and health. My young self couldn't comprehend why would anybody else steal from other hard-working people. I stood by those rules and vowed in front of the King to not break any of those, why? Because a Prince and King must be an example to the whole nation. I promised to be an example to all, but I guess I was never a good example to begin with.

The skies were gray, and the rain drenched us. I remember how my blue sweater along with my white shorts were stained with mud. The streets were cold, dirty, and the houses looked deplorable. People were laying on the ground as they extended their hands to ask for money. Their faces were burned, most had no legs, and others were deformed. Women with babies were hiding under carton boards, and children used to play with the dirty water of the sewers. I looked for my wallet, but it was nowhere to be found, "I lost my wallet," I whispered in embarrassment.

Karina was hungry, but my backpack of candies was gone as well, "what do we do?" I asked, she smiled brightly and replied, "we can steal food from them," "what? But... we aren't supposed to steal," "I know," "then? Why would we steal?" "Mother always says that money shouldn't limit anyone the right to live." I stared at her in amazement, and slowly... the book of rules that was stuck in my head faded. Instead of following rules, I had more options in front of me, options that could help my friend get fed... but, was it the right option? Being hungry justifies stealing? Morals played a big role in my mind back then.

We crouched on the ground and crawled towards a food stand. I was too clumsy and saint-like while Karina was a little devil, "we are doing this," she whispered. I could almost see her invisible little horns poking through her forehead while I had a huge halo on my face, "I'm not so sure—" "Estes, ready?" "No," "let's go!" It seems like she didn't listen, "I said I'm not ready!" "Go!" She pulled me from my shirt towards the food stand. I grabbed whatever was in front of me and quickly ran behind her, I had a few slices of pizza and other unknown edibles. I began to laugh out loud, "see? It was easy!" She exclaimed with a huge grin. A man began to chase us, and I was so scared I thought I had peed myself. Of course, I didn't.

The man was old, and we both knew he couldn't catch up to us, but we were wrong. A bunch of neighbors joined him. I heard growls and barks, even a dog was running like a beast towards us. I left the slices of pizza behind, "I can't run!" I yelled. I was always the slow kid in school, in my family, and at every task. Too weak, too slow, too clumsy, too stupid. I had those words hitting my chest each time I took a step, and my lungs ached from the effort. Karina extended her hand, letting go of her slices of bread. She pulled me hard, I felt the warmth of her hand, and the wind hitting against my face. We ran through the thin and endless alleys, those that look like mazes. We jumped on top of trash containers, rusty cars, cardboards, and whatnot. It was a whole adventure, and I was going through all of it with the help of Karina. She was fast, fast as an assassin.

I slipped and hit my head on the ground with a brick. The dog was almost sniffing my back and got a hold of my arm. I remember the gruesome pain of his canines breaking through my skin. I heard Karina's whimpers and the blows from the men who caught up to us. My left eye lost vision, and both of my arms were bitten. I saw how they were dragging me around, covering me in mud and dirt. Everything happened so fast with no idea of what to do. I couldn't breathe nor move, that's when I lost track of time and consciousness.

I woke up inside a carton box, Karina sleeping next to me. She began to cry out loud as soon as I woke her up, "I thought you died!" She yelled, pulling on to my shirt, "ouch," "sorry. Oh... what do we do? You are bleeding," "I'm okay," I wasn't. I slowly reached for my pocket and pulled out a piece of bread, "here, you must be hungry," "but, how?" "I hid one, it's nice, isn't it? Take it." Her eyes completely scanned my face, she slowly took the bread and cut it in half, giving me some of it, "thank you," she replied with her cheeks full of food.

It was a bad situation. I couldn't move nor do anything at all. The rain was pouring hard and I began to cough a little. Karina looked a little bit pale, I touched her forehead and realized she was burning up. I didn't know anything about fever except that it's bad, "you have a fever!" "Really?" "There must be a shelter somewhere, help me up," "alright." I jumped on one foot as she held my body weight, and then we began to search for a dry place to rest. We had no luck until later on. I laid on the ground, but Karina collapsed immediately, "Karina!" An old lady with a scar on her face approached us, "oh dear, she won't make it," "grandma, what do we do?" "I'm afraid nothing can be done, look!" She lifted the girl's shirt, uncovering a huge wound across her stomach.

I forgot about my pain and immediately shook her body, "Karina! Wake up!" Her breathing was shallow, and so her health began to deteriorate. There was nothing I could do, I was a hopeless and clueless child who only cried and whined without finding an answer to anything. Death was something I never thought of, but the possibility of Karina's death scared me the most. I clung to her body and cried out loud, "I said I could take you home!" I yelled. She finally opened her eyes and smiled, "home?" "Karina... yes! Home, I will take you home. You will meet my mother and father. You can be friends with all of my siblings. I have a dog as well, and we have a big garden. We can play every day and..." her eyes began to drift away till her heart stopped. There was a puddle of blood surrounding my legs, staining my white shorts and shoes. The world suddenly became silent, and only the sound of the rain remained. I had everything in life, yet I couldn't hold on to the one person I wanted to protect.

I let go of her hand and was left speechless, I remember how my vision blurred. I couldn't believe any of it. My head rested on top of her, hugging her tightly with both of my weakened arms, "I have lots of food, there's no need to steal anymore. I have clothes for you, toys, many many toys. You have to come with me, Karina. Wake up, we can't be sleeping right now, hm? Wake up!" My mind couldn't understand the nature of death. Where did she go? Why couldn't I get her back? What should I do to make it better? Those are the things I kept on asking myself. I felt powerless, scared, and miserable.

The old lady stared at me and said, "boy, why are your eyes glowing?" "Glowing?" I looked at my own reflection on a puddle of water and immediately freaked out. My eyes were glowing a pale blue, and I felt a sudden rush of energy burning through my entire body, what was it? The neighbors and homeless stared at the sky, the moon was shining on top of the city. A huge ray of light hit the earth, and that energy which emanated from the moon slowly began to crawl towards me. Magic started to pour from my hands, light and dark shades of blue spreading through the neighborhood. My arms didn't hurt anymore, I was as good as new. I noticed how Karina's wounds began to heal, and how everyone around me as well.

Those who were hurt or had some sort of illness were suddenly filled with energy. The old lady's scar disappeared, and those who were coughing found peace. A blind man began to yell, saying that it was a miracle, "this is the power of the moon!" The blind said as his eyes changed into a healthy dark green. The homeless surrounded me and began to chant weird things. I didn't know what it was, nor what it meant. I stared at Karina's body till she began to breathe again, "Karina?" She opened her eyes and stared at me, "your eyes... are pretty," she mumbled. The glow immediately disappeared, and the moon hid beneath the clouds. As if nothing happened, everything went back to normal.

I held both of her hands and squished them hard, but nothing could come out of my lips, "Estes, what was that?" "I don't know," "nothing hurts anymore, who healed me?" "I... I don't know, I know nothing," "Estes? Are you crying?" "I thought... you..." I finally crumbled into small pieces, letting out those years of being useless, those years of being powerless and ashamed of being alive. She kindly held me on her arms, and I buried my embarrassed face on her chest, "boys don't cry, do they?" I whispered, "we all cry," "then... then..." "it's okay." I felt at peace, and so I fell asleep on her arms for a little bit.

Time calmed me down till I was able to sit steadily, Karina cupped her face with her hands and asked, "did you save me?" "I... I..." "that is awesome! You can heal? How is that even possible? You are amazing!" "Well... I..." I blushed hard and stared at my own lap. She leaned closer, and poked my forehead with her index finger, "then... your wish came true. You became a hero." A huge dumb grin appeared across my face. She patted my head as if I was a good boy, and from there we decided to head back home. Those were the very first words of encouragement, and the first words that completely made me fall for her.