#like in a big store or chain store i know the employees don’t care that i’m there

[tauforged]

honestly, and i can truly say this with my chest now that i don’t work for the bastards anymore, but more people need to know that buying a hamster or a gecko from petco is synonymous with buying a puppy from a mill breeder. unless they’ve made a major u-turn in the months since i quit after years of refusing to change suppliers (spoiler: they haven’t) their animals are always gonna be sourced from breeders who don’t outcross their animals, breed them too young, send them out as young as legally possible, don’t do health checks or even monitor animals for disease before they’re shipped to the fucking store (we’ve had incredibly young mice show up with cataracts, visible and impairing birth defects, active neurological issues like spiraling or self injury, stuff you should be able to pick out IMMEDIATELY and cull. guinea pigs and hamsters were constantly arriving with ringworm and wet tail. reptiles would come right out the box with mites, stuck shed that led to amputated toes or feet due to lost circulation (in one case a panther chameleon lost an entire leg!!). we had fish that arrived with massive tumors on their face that obscured their mouths and made it impossible to eat, fish lice, ich, fungal infections, kinked spines, malfunctioning or thoroughly nonfunctional swim bladders, missing eyes, pretty much anything that could happen to an animal due to bad breeding showed up at my old location at least once. we kept insisting they stop sending us spider ball pythons because their neurological issues were so bad we had to have every single one euthed because it couldn’t eat or navigate without injuring itself. the result? they stopped individually labeling morphs and sent us ‘assorted fancy’ ball pythons instead. they didn’t remove the spider gene from their breeding stock. we started seeing BPs without visible spider morph traits that were corkscrewing and stargazing. our manager got fed up with taking our animals to the vet constantly and removed a bunch of shit from our planogram, but that didn’t stop them from sending animals we didn’t ask for.

the animals supplied to petco (i can’t speak for other chains, but i’d imagine this is par for the course elsewhere) are badly bred, overpriced, and not cared for properly in the stores BY DESIGN - i got written up multiple times for ‘breaking policy’ because i would give animals extra hides, proper substrates, extra enrichment, just to keep them from cowering in the fucking corner at all times. i was told by our district manager that “you’re treating these animals like they’re pets, and they’re not. they’re merchandise.” i tried to complain about this statement, but nobody gave a shit.

don’t buy animals from chain stores unless you know how to look for sick/injured/badly bred animals and are prepared to deal with the potential vet bills and even having to put the poor thing down. even if you are, like. i guess i can’t stop you? but i’m not sure why you’d do that.

and for the love of all that’s fucking holy, STOP PITY BUYING ANIMALS. stop buying sad, sick looking animals to ‘rescue’ them. i know it’s hard to see them suffer, but putting money in the company’s pocket will only encourage them to continue. these companies are well aware that pity buys are a big market, especially when it comes to small animals like bettas or other fish. if you feel strongly about how an animal is being treated, by all means make a stink about it, complain to corporate, bring it to the employees’ attention (although there won’t be much, if anything, they’ll be capable of doing about it, sadly), hell, post about it online or whatever, but don’t fucking buy the animal to make yourself feel better about “saving” it. if you wanna rescue an animal so badly, visit a shelter or look into rehoming or rehab programs. consider fostering. just…. stop giving these companies your money. they’re overcharging you for the absolute bottom of the barrel, and they’re outright refusing to change because people are still buying what they’re selling no matter what.

[jesuisgourde]

truly the most insane thing about working for a tiny independent used bookstore isn’t the weirdo customers (that’s par for the course for any used bookstore), it’s the fact that i’m working a day less than any other job i’ve ever had and i’m making way more. it’s just wild to have a job where the employers have some sort of integrity and also were employees there for 10 years before buying the store from the owner who retired this year, so they know what it’s like to actually work the job and what effort goes into it and stuff. also they don’t care if we read on the clock, or if we have to go run an errand in the middle of work, or whatever. like this store has 6 employees total, including the two owners who work full time too. technically they don’t have to pay us the full chicago minimum wage because they have less than 21 employees but they do anyway. it is literally the best job i’ve ever had in every way possible. but it’s also crazy to think that all the other jobs i’ve had which were chain stores or whatever, big companies that could definitely afford to pay more wages and be better, really really aren’t. i make 3k more a year at this job working 32 hours than i did at my first job out of university working 35-40 hours. even though one single location of the chain bookstore would make at least 12k a day usually more whereas the shop i work at now makes just over 4k on our best days. i’m like extremely, extremely lucky to be working here because they’re so small and they rarely hire, but they get at least 2 applications a week if not more because everyone wants to work at a bookstore. i just happened to apply at exactly the right time and already had a few years of used bookstore experience + fit the general freak vibe of this store. it’s just bizarre that i get to do a thing i love and have basically zero complaints, compared to when i worked in a corporate chain bookstore and had many complaints.

[gorbo-longstocking]

your underfell asgore….. hand em over……

you don't know how long i've been waiting for this one anon. i got so excited i went a tad overboard with this ask. i care him sm. big and scary….

- you meet him at the grocery store. it’s a chain and in the middle of the day so it’s not too busy. most people are at work or at school and it’s the perfect time to come and rummage through the aisles. you decide you deserve something sweet, quickly finding yourself meandering around the cake mixes, far too distracted to notice the king of the underground lumbering towards you until his shadow is blocking the light.

- i imagine you find yourself stuttering under his gaze. its intense, eyes boring into you with a severity you were certain would make anyone else spontaneously combust. large fangs poke out from his jaw. they have to be the size of your hand at least.

- “Excuse me, human. Which of these cake mixes would a child prefer for their birthday.”

- he’s mistaken you for an employee. awkward. he’s holding the mixes for angel food cake and carrot cake, both quite possibly, the worst choices for a kid’s birthday cake. asking for help looks like it’s taking a great toll on him. his expression looks somewhat constipated, like being polite to you is straining in some way. you point him in the direction of funfetti. can’t go wrong with a classic. he doesn’t spare you a second glance before snatching it up and leaving.

- you run into him about a week later in the same aisle. it looks like he’s waiting for you, casting disgruntled looks around the store. when his eyes land on you, he lets out a heavy sigh, in some sort of halfway state between relieved and irritated. at this point you’re wondering if you should just move to another town. he crosses his arms and you notice his bicep is as big as your head.

- oleander asks you to get coffee with him. he gets tea and when you get coffee, he rolls his eyes. it’s not subtle. he thanks you for your help, his kid loved the cake. you try to be flattered, but it’s hard when he’s spitting the words out like they’re poison. oleander slides you a piece of paper with his number written on it. you are the first human to not immediately pass out in fear when they saw him, and he needs help being a good father for his human child. logically, you are the best choice for advice. you can’t bring yourself to deny him.

- after you get his number, he texts you semi-frequently. at first it’s only for advice, before it eventually dissolves into more mundane things. oleander is a bit of a serial complainer, especially when it comes to the stupidity of humans. don’t take it too personally, he hasn’t acknowledged it yet, but you are the sole exception save for frisk. he will curse the name of any human who drives below the speed limit, but when it’s you, it’s cute.

- surprisingly, it doesn’t take long for you to be one of the only humans on the planet to know that the relationship between him and rose is for appearances only. to say he’s a bit torn up about it would be an understatement. one night you find yourself comforting on your couch him as he drunkenly laments his lost marriage, made especially awkward by your growing feelings for him. you place your hand on his back and tell him you cant offer him any forgiveness, but his desire to be better in the present for frisk matters more than he gives himself credit for. someone truly evil wouldn’t care to make that step. oddly enough, after that, you never hear about his ex-wife again unless it has something to do with frisk.

- he’s old fashioned, no surprise there, and subtle to a fault. when oleander begins courting you, it’s hard to pick up on. he’s not as suave as he thinks he is. at first he tries the secret admirer route, leaving anonymous gifts in your mailbox ranging from flowers to fancy jewelry. he’s too good at covering his tracks and it’s near impossible to trace it back to him, especially when he’s acting like he doesn’t know anything. it’s his attempt at playing hard to get.

- it isn’t until you’re introduced to frisk that you finally get it. frisk is important to him, he wouldn’t introduce just anyone to them, so when he offered, everything kind of… clicked into place. you ask him if he’s your secret admirer and he fesses up with only fifteen minutes of conversational circles. he’s given away by his teasing smirk.

- dating the king of monsters is not an easy task. it’s all over the papers near instantaneously, much to his deep irritation. however, it’s better to get it out of the way sooner rather than later. he wants to treat you to dinners, make sure your fully wined and dined, he can’t do that if y’all are sneaking around. all that matters is frisk likes you and you love frisk. honestly, as long as you and frisk are on good terms, which it’s nearly impossible not to be, rose will just be happy to be ‘rid of her ex-husband. she’s a bit cold, but won’t be cruel. the longer you’re around, the less she has to deal with oleander.

- oleander is huge and has a lot of body heat. he can pick you up in one hand like you weigh absolutely nothing, and to him, you do. his claws are sharp, but he’s always gentle with you, his touches so light at first, it’s almost as if he wasn’t there. sometimes, he’ll brush a strand of hair from your face with a claw. he’s also got a very awkward smile. even when he’s sincere, it doesn’t appear that way. most of his teeth aren’t just sharp, but giant as well.

[kusagrasskusa]

Erron Black X Innocent! Reader

I...am a sucker for bebe s/o and big strong manly manz so yeah. These are shitty simple headcannons though to appease my wiplist. Do expect a better Erron Black X Reader in the future though! I already had a long story ready but it's on a halt because too much is happening this week.

Lemme just put a "readmore" here so I can go through my posts faster-- and for some of those who post long ass amazing works of art but never put a readmore, you can do it by putting :readmore: then pressing enter.

A fucking deadly cowboy who's basically immortal and had basically seen every type of person there could be wouldn't he expected to fall in love with someone who doesn't even understand the concept of losing a loved one.

Erron loves girls who can handle themselves and take control of the situation. In a way, Y/N can kinda do that-

Y/N's puppy eyes and sad voice is enough to make anyone feel even a bit of sympathy. And when she cries, anyone would break their character and come to comfort this beBe!

Her gentleness and happiness just pulls on people's heartstrings like a motherfucker. It might just be some special aura she was born with that effects people so much idk

When our cowboy spoke to you for the first time, it was a normal flirtatious greeting he'd give to most ladies. And when Y/N cocked her head, widened her eyes and blushed, he felt himself blushing a little too.

"Howdy little lady, what's a fine gal like yourself doin' 'round these parts? You look too pretty to be around here," he spoke, referring to being close to being around the Black Dragon base.

The two were in a small pond nearby; and considering no one else knew where this pond was, he knew she must be part of the Black Dragon.

She grew so red and nervously tucked her hair behind her ear, stumbling over her words. Erron usually expected small smiles but damn, Y/N's adorable face really caught his eye.

They had small conversation about the pond before Y/N had to leave. Erron was thinking of her for the rest of that day.

And then the next day came along.

Kano was showing off where he gets his clothes made to some of his priority employees, such as Erron, and the only worker on the dressing rooms was Y/N.

"Hi, Kano— Oh, Erron, hi! :D" She called out lovingly. Erron was thankful for his mask as his cheeks suddenly grew red as his mind became confused.

He was so damn confused- how is this childish adult able to speak to sweetly and happily as if he and Kano weren't killers? Why is she so excited too?

The excitement in her voice whenever he came to visit her in the dressing rooms was intoxicating to him.

Erron grew to see her everyday and then finally, he decided to take her out on a little fancy "friendly meeting" one day.

He was sure to bring roses, which Y/N loved. He complimented her adoringly, and she would compliment him equally so. He had stored alcohol for her to try out, however he knew she didn't drink.

Whenever the event was over, Erron prepared to ask her to be his baby. But instead, she hugged him tightly and squealed, "Thank you so much for the great night! You're the best friend ever Erron!"

Later in bed, he thought about how she didn't understand it was a date. Goddammit-

Then the next day came.

The two would engulf in a giant hug whenever Y/N would confess that after the "friendly meeting," she realized she loved him.

Tbh she's a terrible kisser since she's inexperienced. But Erron managed to teach her that day.

The two would take it slow. Y/N is sorta oblivious to most romantic things so yeah.

Y/N adores the cowboy look and sometimes likes to copy it. Erron won't say that he loves it but-- you know how he feels.

Erron does get hella nervous whenever she goes out in public. Kano mentioned that she has no concept of wrong doing (not that he couldn't tell) so the thought of her tryna help someone dangerous gets to him.

The two don't care at all for PDA. The two can kiss and hold hands anywhere unashamed.

"Hey Erron? There was a guy that just told me I'm beautiful:)" Y/N spoke with excitement in her eyes.

"Is that right," Erron responded as the chains containing his inner demons were lifted. "What does he look like?"

Y/N ignored the gunshot she heard only minutes after. Erron was prolly just practicing his aim is all :)

Cuddling. Fucking cuddling between these two is amazing. Nearly every night, they at least hold hands with each other.

Y/N never really notices whenever Erron hurts people. She just can't belive that he would be a killer. Even if Kano comes in while laughing about some asshole Erron shot, she ignored it and remains smiling.

Erron can't really convince her either. "Wha?- But then why didn't you hurt me? See, I knew you were lying! >:)"

Yeah, Erron can get a little annoyed by Y/N's constant...well, idk, comments? But overall, something about her innocents and adorable actions make him stay.

He just has to be sure to keep his assassinations private.

[honestlyfrance]

SAMBUCKY BOOKMARKS

it’s fic yeah friday over at @fuckyeahsambucky​​​ so i wanna do a lil something something for the fandom :) check out my #fic rec tag for more! 

enjoy the more than 50 fics listed here :) be careful of the tags!

I Am Trying to Break Your Heart by Lunar_Pull

Today is the day that Steve received an invitation to the love of his life’s wedding.

Philopatry by Areiton

"I want to be safe," he says. "But I'm not." "Then why come here? Why put me at risk?" Something flickers in his eyes, little boy lost and utterly cold, and it makes Sam want to give the dude a hug and also pull his sidearm. "I have no reason to hurt you," Winter says. "I don't want to hurt you," Bucky adds, earnestly.

farmhouse by Tazmaster

"You know, I think I'd want a farmhouse."

"A what?" Sam turns to look at him, slightly annoyed. This was the first thing Bucky has said in the past hour and a half they've been cramped in this god forsaken car. He had a knack for impulsively voicing his dumb thoughts at the worst times, but whenever you wanted to know what was actually going on in that head of his, he'd never say.

They were staking out the front gate of a large mansion, very much not a farmhouse. It was mind numbingly boring, being stuck in a beetle with absolutely nothing else to do than stare at the gaudy gates of some rich asshole.

"A farmhouse," Bucky repeats nonchalantly, "If we ever get out of this business, or you know, live long enough to retire maybe--- I want a farmhouse. With a lot of animals."

---

Bucky keeps talking about a farmhouse and it drives Sam crazy, that is until he finally asks why.

Employee Discount by bopeep for queenmab_scherzo

Sam Wilson doesn't love working in a store that makes him wear vanity-sized polos and breathe in clouds of men's cologne like the worst kind of GQ aromatherapy, but the view from his cash register across the mall to the Hot Topic and the sullen Dark Prince of Wallet Chains he loves to hate may just beat the minimum wage blues.

In warm water, swimming down by targaryen_melodrama

“Why are you hiding?””Tired.”Bucky raises an eyebrow. “So you decided to swim.”“So I decided to be alone.”Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “I can go, if you want.”It’s the last thing Sam wants.

I figured out what the slashes mean by Teaismycoffee

Sam, Steve and Bucky are all living together in a safe house. Bucky and Sam discover fan fiction written about them. Steve doesn't approve. Sam and Bucky are really into secretly reading fan fiction together, or maybe it isn't the fan fiction part they are really into.

Chicken Soup for the Soul by bioloyg

“S’not my bed time,” Sam says as he buries his face in Bucky’s upper arm. Bucky laughs. “Tough. You’re sick.” Sam lets out a loan groan and says, “But my bed is cold. I was so warm, why’d you move me?” “Because your neck would’ve hated you if I didn’t.” He tries not to be so amused by how fussy Sam is when he’s both sick and half-asleep. It’s cute. ~ A fic wherein Bucky takes care of a sick Sam.

two nights in L.A. by CapnWinghead

Bucky kindly volunteered Sam to be a groomsman for Scott’s upcoming wedding. Of course, that meant Sam and Bucky had to go to the bachelor party.

at the end of the war (what's mine is yours) by notcaycepollard

They don't talk about it: that's how it works.

I'd Like That by honestlydarkprincess

Sam has been up for over 24 hours and has been dreaming about his Coffee Caramel Fudge non-dairy ice cream since about the 18-hour mark. When he gets to the store, there's only one carton of it left and, unfortunately for the guy innocently holding said carton, Sam's not leaving without it.

Or, the one where Sam is sleep deprived, yells at a cute guy, and gets both ice cream and a phone number out of it.

Ready, Set, Date! by bioloyg

Bucky wants to sleep, Natasha wants to find him a date for Steve's wedding (so he'll leave her alone), and Sam is the best thing about this whole speed dating disaster. But, Sam's not in the speed date rotations - he's at a different table weathering through dates just like Bucky is. ~ "Three dates in, Bucky decides he has made one of the worst decisions in all of his life by coming here. His first date had been an attractive enough man by the name of Greg. He introduces himself as “The Big G,” to which Sam laughs at in the middle of introducing himself to his own date. Greg likes to talk about cars a lot, which is fine. Bucky also likes cars. The only problem is that Greg’s love for cars borders on… erotic."

We'll rise up free and easy by Sarsaparilla, woofgender

Steve and Natasha are away on a mission when Sam receives intel about the Winter Soldier’s location. When he follows the lead, Sam finds something unexpected—but despite his initial impression, it’s certainly not all bad. (Post-CATWS, not AOU- or CACW-compliant.)

__________ "'Jesus Christ,' Sam said, 'Are you planning on fighting an entire army?'

Barnes looked up from examining the sights of a sniper rifle. '...no,' he said, a little guiltily, and adjusted one of the--five? Six? guns he’d already strapped to himself."

love is in the air (i smell coffee) by Flora_K, hermionesmydawg

Sam Wilson - graduate student, part-time barista, part-time salesman, and full-time father - doesn't have time to sleep, much less date. At least, that's what he tells himself.

Up at Night by bioloyg for lunaaltare

With Halloween nearing, Sam is feeling more in the mood for a scary movie than usual. He'd never watch one on his own though, so he invites his roommate to pick one out and join in on movie night. or Prompt fill for Samtember ~ "It’s quiet for a while after that. Like always, the two of them start on opposite sides of the queen sized bed with at least a foot of space between them. And, like always, they drift closer to one another as time passes, though whether it’s habitual or instinctual Sam would never dare delve into."

flowers in darkness, the moon above the sea by 27dis

Sam enjoyed his job, really.

But, not when a certain person came in.

A quick detour and a sudden arrival by iwillnotbecaged for heuradys

He found Wilson shivering in the snow, left for dead. Sloppy.

You couldn’t trust the elements to do your job for you. They were rarely so obliging.

A mission gone awry, unexpected help, and close quarters makes for an interesting couple of days.

Don't lock the door on me by TuskFM

Sam’s desperately trying to sleep when he gets a visit from the Winter Soldier at three a.m., bleeding and asking for help. Sam’s not the kind of guy who let someone bleed out on his front door, even if the said someone threw him off an helicarrier and stole his wheel.

and i run, further than before by hermionesmydawg

"What do they call you?" Bucky carefully pulls out an equal amount of caramel and cheese kernels of popcorn and pops them into his mouth. "Birdman?"

"No."

"Captain Canary?"

"Hell no."

"The Winged Avenger?"

"Falcon, dammit, and I am not an Avenger," Sam snaps, and now he's kinda pissed because yes, it's a bird name. He didn't sign up for this kind of ridicule from an amnesiac assassin.

***

Basically, the 5 times Sam actually found Bucky and the 1 time he tried to hide from him. Don't tell Steve.

Exquisite Flavor by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

W&M's Grand Corner's growing to be one of the popular restaurants in New York, where Sam Wilson works as a chef for his sister. A wedding's in a few weeks and he has no idea on what to do about it. Notorious for his picky taste and blunt reviews, Bucky 'Winter Wolf' Barnes pays a visit. Little did he know, food could really win one's heart and lands on his stomach.

He's a Beta, You Hear That? by 27dis

Reasons why Sam didn’t realize Bucky was courting him this entire time: 1. He is a beta 2. He is oblivious 3. He thought Bucky is way out of his league 4. He is a beta for fuck’s sake

See? It’s hardly his fault for not noticing it. Why was Bucky flirting with him anyw—

Oh. Oh.

Or; Bucky swore flirting with someone was never this hard before.

stay where we belong by glittercake

He doesn't know what the hell he's doing when he turns around and shouts, "Yo! You know what—" and Barnes turns on his heel in a flash, "It's getting late, man. Looks like rain."

Sam motions to the grey sky above, and Barnes follows his eyes beyond the hanging Willow branches. "Yeah? What are you saying?"

He's got that terribly smug look on his face, the one Sam can't stand but kind of misses when it's not irritating him. But mostly, he can't stand it, "Nothing! Forget about it!"

Arms Spread Out Wide, Turn Falling Into Flight by irisesandlilies

It was easy, nothing has ever been easy for Bucky. Except this, and that terrifies him.

Years in the making by glittercake

Bucky and Sam meet as two young soldiers, but the time is never quite right to make it anything more. Until it eventually is.

or

Sam refuses to let himself fall in love while he's deployed. Bucky pines endlessly for years about the prettiest bird he’s ever seen. Sam’s no better.

If At First You Don't Succeed by SonnyD

Bucky finally gains the courage to tell Sam about his feelings. He comes up with a list of methods to woo him that were bound to succeed. He didn't account for each and every one of them failing in unexpected ways. The five times that Bucky attempts to woo Sam and the one time that Sam returns the favour.

if i could take us back, if i could just do that... by safelikespringtime

Bucky laughed, cheeks flushing red, “I’m glad you didn't. Don't know what I’d do without my wingman.” Sam groaned, poking Bucky’s side, “That was awful.” Bucky laughed. “You couldn’t survive without me. We both know it.”

How right he was.

***

Sam dies. Bucky mourns.

Strawberries and Cigarettes always taste like you by winterscaptsam

There’s a sweet agonizing simplicity in leaving behind your safe haven, like the thrill of adrenaline, reaching the top of Everest, allowed to admire its beautiful icy view but with the everlasting fear of not making it back down. Maybe that's why it was a natural instinct for Bucky to reach out for the closest thing that felt like home, slowly then all at once falling for the sweet warmth of mahogany eyes, what soon became his safe haven.

Baked With Love by Siancore

Bucky Barnes’ family owns a bakery in a small town. High school has long been over, and Bucky is dying to move to the city to pursue a musical career with his band. And his future looks promising, if he can just persuade his father to let him leave his job behind at their struggling family bakery.

It is no secret that Bucky used to love baking with his father, but things change. He just can’t fathom wasting his life away watching rising dough and hot ovens. With his mind made up to leave, Bucky convinces his father to advertise for a replacement. While interviewing candidates to fill the position he has vacated, Bucky meets Sam Wilson: An easy-going guy who is as eager about baking as Bucky is about leaving. They bond over baking and become close. Love looks like it is ready to bloom between them if Bucky, in his haste to escape, does not ruin it.

Beneath this Crown by winterscaptsam

Sam traces his fingers from James’ hairline, down to his jaw, resting the pad of his thumb on James lips. He will let himself relish in this feeling. Not even the sculptors, painters or poets could carve their words and materials to accurately describe this.

“Do you think the history books will remember us?” Sam had once asked. And James’ words were made of the purest of golds, “my love, we will be legends for the children yet to come.”

Or

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes' love story, one a prince and the other a knight.

make my body come alive (i've got a right to hurt inside) by notcaycepollard

The body is weak. The body is hungry and soft and human. He looks at himself in the mirror, the bones of his shoulders, his cheeks hollowed out from hunger, and he thinks, gentle, you didn’t deserve this.

safe like spring time by quidhitch

“I already told you it looks good. What more is there?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re gonna live here. I just wish I knew a little bit more about how that’s sitting with you.”

Sam knows Bucky feels fine. What Sam’s probably actually after is how he feels about the fact neither of them have anywhere else to go, not with Natasha dead and Steve wrinkly. Therapists. Even the good ones, always so circular.

“I like the terrace,” Bucky offers, mostly to appease him.

Airy Laundry by AmarieMelody

Sam watches what happens when Bucky buys a clothesline.

lucky by CapnWinghead

In retrospect, it took Bucky an embarrassingly long time to realize that everyone and Scott's mom thought he and Sam were dating.

not an end, but (the start of all things) by notcaycepollard

They keep driving, for lack of anything better to do. A mission, Sam had said, and maybe that's true; maybe wherever they're headed is the way out, the way up.

So You Run On Gasoline by 343EnderSpark, ABitNotGoodieBag, OriginalCeenote

Bucky may have bitten off more than he could chew with this job, he thinks, as he ambles along the sidewalk to the cafe after leaving campus. He is running off the fumes of exhaustion and hasn’t had more than 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep in the past week. Between his students and his thesis, he knows that it’s foolish to try so hard to hang on to his barista gig, but DC isn’t a cheap place to live and Bucky can’t live with other people.

Bucky is just trying his best, despite being a human disaster.

we could jump the state lines (we only get the one life) by notcaycepollard

It starts in Paris.

“You can’t steal things just because you like them,” Sam tells Bucky, feeling innately that this is a losing battle, and Bucky cocks his head to the side, considers Sam very thoughtfully.

“Really,” he says. “I’m stealing you, aren’t I?”

we were a fire with no smoke by notcaycepollard

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes. Take the boys out of New York but they’re still Brooklyn Catholics, that’s clear enough. Bucky catches the gesture, smirks hard enough Sam can see his eye teeth. It should be dangerous but he’s beautiful, pale and charming and recklessly easy.

“You wanna come in?” Sam asks, ignoring the noise Steve makes, and Bucky’s smile gets wider.

“Yeah,” he says. Steps up close to Sam. “I do.”

Peace Begins with a Smile by Siancore

Bucky just likes the way Sam smiles.

They're Good Drones, Brent by chase_acow

When Redwing becomes infected with an alien A.I., Sam has to balance the needs of the team with his own curiosity about his new partner. Redwing isn’t the only one acting strange, he also needs to get to the bottom of Bucky’s weirdness. It takes a training exercise gone wrong that Redwing and Sam might not survive for their secrets to be exposed.

Wet Asphalt (This Is What Love Is) by ObviouslyOtter

Soft words in the dark tell us all we need to know about love. Better when they come from the person you need to hear it from most. It's crueler when you don't realize it till afterward.

Or

Sam and Bucky go out shopping for candles.

i'm gone by bi_marvel

After infiltrating a Hydra base, Sam and Bucky are sent to a safe house, and there's only one bed. Oh, golly, I wonder what will happen!

Covert Coffee & Flirtation Special by glittercake

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

The Starting Line by birdlight

A Series

Lone and Level Sands by quantum_consciousness

The almost-smile disappears off Sam’s face and he takes a step deeper into the water, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt as he wades further. One look over his shoulder and he chucks the shirt to shore, and Sam dives into the water. The ache in Bucky’s chest deepens as Sam swims. He supposes, Sam has lost a lot more, he supposes, sometimes Sam feels as lonely as he used to.

in which love doesn’t ruin us by joesnick

“Idiot,” Bucky said, so natural and deliberate that she couldn’t hear well but it was there. Relief and happiness under a small light. “Don’t do that to me again.”

“Hey, I’m here,” Sam said, before getting closer and pressing his forehead against Bucky’s. “I’m here.” They ran out of words. They didn’t need them, not at that moment. Their steadying breaths and their tenderness, saved only for each other and fed by each other, was all they needed.

Ride of Shared Melodies by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

Two strangers, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson meet in an unexpected encounter in the airplane. Over the course of the ride, they discover their mutual love for music and connect.

Let's Fly Away by Unclesteeb

"If I could fly, I could go anywhere. I could do anything.”

Sam’s mom gives his shoulder a gentle pat. “You can in your own way.”

“How?”

“Sammy, all you have to do to be as free as a bird is to just do the right thing.”

Sam furrows his brow. “What does that mean?”

“Well,” Sam's mom starts. “The right thing is doing nice things for people. It's treating everyone how you would want to be treated. It's going out of your way to help people and love them, even if they're not nice to you at first or at all. People deserve love, and I know you have plenty to give.” She leans down to give his cheek a kiss. “All you have to do to find your wings and fly free is to just do what you feel is right. You have a beautiful heart, Sam. I know you'll use it the right way. Then you'll fly.”

Been one of those days (can I lean on you?) by hazel_eyed_bi

Sam and Bucky wrap up an exhausting, weeks-long mission, only to go back to their mutual pining while forced to share a bed at a crappy motel. Also, Nat knows what's up.

Find your love and fight for it by winterscaptsam

Sam learns to love again, quiet and composed. Love letters stay in between walls and stolen kisses don’t leave his apartment. It's not that it's a secret, loving Bucky the way he does, lord knows he’d scream it from the rooftops, travel all the way to space to let any living life form know it as well. But that’s the problem, he just doesn’t know how and it aches him to his core to keep Bucky like a secret, like this love is something to be ashamed of.

Or

Sam decides it's about time to come out.

Kings of Everything by glittercake

Twenty-five years after the events at a popular New York Bistro, Timothy DumDum Dugan tells the true story of infamous mobster Jimmy Buchanan and the man he gave it all up for.

arson we commit by winterscaptsam

Bucky seeks adventure, reaches out for an adrenaline rush whenever he can get it and he reckons this fellow will be the one to give it to him. All sweet smiled and dolled up figure showing off his attributes. Like he’s daring anyone to take the rush.

So, Bucky goes and gets what he wants.

“What’s your damage, doll?”

Or

Bucky is the hitman and Sam is the target.

The Boys of Summer by Siancore for avintagekiss24

Sam Wilson returns home to the small town he grew up in to complete his med school residency. He hasn’t been back for an extended amount of time since he left for college. While he only consistently kept in touch with childhood friend, Steve Rogers, he was keen to see the people he had grown up with. With the exception of Bucky Barnes. They had a falling out the summer before Sam left for college. What happened between them? Can they move past it now that they’re adults?

Sam's Plan by OhHelloFandoms123

“I have a plan,” Sam said smugly, hands on his hips. “I have a three-step plan for you to marry me.” At first, he thought he was joking. Then, he saw Sam’s genuine smile.

Bucky groaned, “there is no way in HELL that I’m marrying YOU, Wilson.”

Wreck In the West by OhHelloFandoms123 for honestlyfrance

There’s just something about leaning on his chest as the sun goes down and the smell of tea whilst into the air feels so amazing. And he was a wreck because of it, it tore him apart and put himself back together because it was so blissful, he almost couldn’t breathe at first.

OR

Gay cowboy proposal.

Belonging Season by OhHelloFandoms123

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes have lived their most happy, married life for 70 years. Death won’t stop them today for living an eternity.

neverending; by glittercake

Sam passes away after a long and happy life with Bucky, but Bucky never ages and life keeps introducing him to Sam's reincarnates for the next 156 years.

Lighthouse by glittercake

This guy’s trouble. Bucky knows that in his bones. It’s not bad trouble, is the problem, it’s good. Sam is so goddamn inherently good and if Bucky even touches that with a ten foot pole—fuck if he even looks at it—it’ll turn to shit.

He can’t afford another move to yet another city because his colleagues started recognizing Brock’s fist prints on his face.

But Sam is a ridiculously bright glowing light, a beacon, and Bucky goes toward it like that idiotic moth to the flame.

masterlist | ko-fi | patreon

[denkineptune]

mha date headcanons- boys and girls :))

♡ request: “i love ur blog already, ur writing is so good!!! im so excited to see the content u’ll be posting !! :D since ur taking requests, how abt some date headcanons for the mha boys (or girls if u want!) ?” - @dianangels​ 

♡ thank you for letting me write girls aaa i chose to do some as first date hc. it was kinda hard to keep jirou’s gn because i wanted to reference wlw stereotypes but i succeeded in gender-neutral because i want everyone to be able to enjoy

♡ dedicating part of this to @anxious-botanist​ because she’s the one who inspired the momo cuddles hehe sorry it took so long

♡ fic details: headcanons, fluff, gender-neutral reader, 2nd pov

characters: kaminari, amajiki, jirou, ashido, yaoyorozu

kaminari- arcade

↠AR C ADE   DA T  E

↠you hear me??? arcade!! date!! ideal man, right here, someone claim him immediately or else i will be forced to take ownership

↠he’s super laid back and chill, pretty childish at heart. he only means the best, though, so i think an arcade is exactly what he would go for when taking you on a date! he doesn’t have a lot of money but still wants you to go home with something to remember the date by

↠he buys like $50 worth of tokens and splits it between the two of you, making sure that he tells you which games give the most tickets, because he’s definitely been here enough times to remember

↠his favorite game is either crossy roads or the big bass wheel- he loves crossy roads because of how cute the style is, but also there is impending stress and levels of  d o o m  as you progress further. big bass wheel is basically just gambling, and i think he’s yumeko jabami.

↠he hacks games to make you win sometimes,, his quirk is bascially designed to do this. it’s like he was born just to take you out on this arcade date. he uses his quirk to short circuit the game and trick the computer into giving you hundreds of tickets

↠he just wants to make you happy and see you smile!! there’s not a feeling quite like succeeding at something as silly as an arcade game, but there’s a certain pride to it that he loves seeing on your face. 

↠kaminari only does it a few times, since he knows that you should be earning your prizes ((not that you know when he does it, he’s really cheeky about it))

↠playyyy multiplayers with him! he loves DDR (dance dance revolution)- you do multiple rounds and are equally exhausted by the end of it akdflad you may not be good, and tbh neither is denki, but you still have fun, which is what matters

↠he also loves taking photobooth pictures, he puts on the most horrendous filters and does the dumbest poses, but it’s so adorable. he does the typical one smile, one ��serious”, one silly face, one kith > <

↠kami gets cocky,,, it’s just how he is,, he gets overly confident whether or not he’s been on a winstreak

“heyy, y/n! look at my speedrun on this, i’m getting so many tickets, i’ll be able to get a house by the end of it!”

↠and then he CAN’T because he doesn’t get the jackpot eghgdhgeh

↠by the end of the day, you’ve spent hours at the arcade, laughing and screaming with denki as you terrorize the small children. yes, he’s that kind of guy

↠by “terrorize”, i don’t mean like a bully, but he’s unintentionally intimidating kids with his pockets overflowing with ticket chains, a crazed look on his face as he goes absolutely ham on the shooting games

↠there’s electricity coming off of him, kids sometimes have to dodge it when passing by

↠so anyways, by the end of the date, you’re basically being kicked out of the arcade, because, as kami puts it,

“we were here when it opened and i’ll be damned if we’re not here when it closes,”

↠between the two of you, you’ve aquired tens of thousands of tickets??? the employees probably hate y’all, they had to count those beasts of ticket rolls you’ve accumulated during the 10 hours the arcade was open

↠exactly 62,069 tickets (69 go brrr- kaminari’s brain), and you can basically buy the arcade with that currency

↠but here’s the thing: he lets you spend all of it. you heard me, all. of. it. he just wants to see you happy, and the best way he can think of to get a final glorious memory of your smile is to let you spend the tickets as you see fit, this generosity just to see you glowing as you walk out of the building, arms chock full of amazing junk

↠but of course, you’d feel bad if you spent all of it, especially since he was the one who took you out, so you offered him the half of the tickets that were won

“denki, you won most of these with your amAzINg gaming skills, it’s only fair you get to have something too,”

“my prize will be seeing you- your- your-- aw fuck, i forgot the line, it’ll come back to me, just give me a minute.”

↠he tried to be smooth and it failed, but you chuckled at the attempt, so all around, he considered it a success

↠denki gets a lot of dumb things that will probably end up being thrown away soon, but he also gets you a very soft bat stuffed animal that you should treasure and keep forever 

amajiki- a walk and picnic in a japanese garden

↠tamaki is very shy, very socially anxious. he’s the kind to wait for people to leave a section of a store before he goes there, purposely do his errands in the early morning to limit social interaction, and find any excuse to leave a situation. which, tbh, isn’t that all of us?

↠let’s be honest here, if it wasn’t y’alls first date, he’d probably not go anywhere. as long as he’s with you, he doesn’t really care for anything too fancy

↠but he’s convinced himself that he needs to do something reasonably big for your first date to make sure you don’t regret your decision to go out with him. so instead of deciding to stay in, he goes somewhere that’s only slightly anxious for him, but where he still feels comfortable

↠so he’s decided on a japanese tsukiyama garden! these places are beautiful by design, not cheap but not too expensive, and people are obligated by rules to be quiet and keep their hands to themselves

↠nobody goes to a garden to socialize, in fact, i’d argue most people go just to look around, rest, and clear their heads. there’s usually not any screaming children, no quirk usage, no villains, it’s a little safe haven. 

↠bonus: there’s butterflies :))

↠it’s so peaceful, and he gets to focus on you instead of whatever loud noise is making him anxious

↠he brings a picnic basket filled with all your favorite foods, and his! he makes a show out of displaying what he can manifest with different snacks, making a point to eat edible seeds so he can produce flowers for you 🥺🥺🥺

↠you walk around the garden for a few hours, marveling at the decor and how well-maintained everything is. there’s a koi pond, hanging wisteria trees, and multiple gazebos that create a really comfortable and calm environment

↠speaking of koi ponds, amajiki offers to buy you food so you can feed the fish! you stand on a bridge above the pond, sharing the container with him. the sMILE on his face when he watches you throw the food is so pure i’m-

↠he’s the walking embodiment of “uwu”- his face is so calm and his eyes are shining and he can feel his heart swelling with love i am GOING to cry my eyes out 

↠but honestly, he wishes he could stay in this moment forever- you’re happy, he’s happy, and it feels like you two are the only people in the universe. right now, he doesn’t have to worry about school, villain attacks, his future, or anything that makes him anxious; all that he can see right now is how beautiful and at peace you look. he took you out today, and you’re enjoying yourself. this is one of the few things that makes him confident: knowing that he’s able to make you happy

↠tamaki is silently celebrating; you’ve had a good time and he didn’t freak out, so it’s the best possible scenario!

ashido- rollerskating! ((look at her she’s adorable the smile n the eyes aaa))

↠mina is a very energetic and bubbly person, its quite obvious if you’ve spent any amount of time around her

↠for your first date with her, she’d already have a location in mind!!

↠the atmosphere of rollerskating rinks is so electric, she can’t help but feel happy there, and she wants to experience that lovely feeling with you, too :))

↠you enter the rink, and mina is already borderline bouncing off the walls alskdfj

↠whether or not you’ve ever skated before, ashido is super cautious with you- multiple times she’s fallen on her butt while learning how to skate, so unless you’re a pro, she’s watching your every move to make sure you don’t get hurt

“y/n! please be careful- you’re not getting hurt on my watch!”

↠she jabs a thumb in her direction proudly, with the cutest bigass grin on her face awh 🥺🥺🥺she’s really enthusiastic about sharing one of her passions with you

“try to balance, alright? don’t put too much weight on your heel or toes, because then you’ll fall on your butt. here, take my hand and i’ll help you! hey, there you go, you’re doing great!”

↠she pays for everything and will WRESTLE you if you try to disagree aldkfa if you’re the type of person to pay for everything as well, y’all are going to have to fight; mina will not give up

↠ashido comes here a lot, so she’s friendly with all the employees, she has the uncanny ability to make friends wherever she goes ((i mean she’s friends with bakugou,, if she can do that,, she can do anything))

↠she takes one of your hands and backs onto the rink, watching for anyone behind her. once you’re balanced properly, she shows you how to move your feet so that the two of you are in sync

↠skating isn’t super hard to figure out, it’s mostly intuitive, so you’ll get the hang of it quite quickly!! maybe you’re not too fast, but it’s still fun, so it doesn’t matter

↠while you’re moving with care, making sure to focus on your footwork, mina will definitely take the chance to show off her skating skills! she’s moving like crazy, weaving around other people and nearly toppling them over but shh she’s trying to impress you and if i’m being honest??? she’s really fucking good aldkdf 

↠it’s obvious that she loves this hobby, and the fact that she likes you enough to share it with you on your first date is so adorable aaaa

↠mina’s really agile- you don’t know if that’s all the hero training or just something that comes naturally, but the way she moves makes skating look like the easiest goddamn thing in the world-

↠she’s such a romantic, she’s definitely put in a request for the dj to play your favorite song, no matter if it fits the mood or not

↠heavy rock? sure!! as long as you’re having fun, who cares about what other people think? super vulgar rap?? w h y  n o t ? !

↠she just has that extroverted, positive, charming energy that’s infectious

↠you can’t help but feel at ease around her, she’s a genuinely a great person, and what you think the epitome of a hero is

↠all ashido really wants here is to have fun with you- i mean she really likes you, and hopes that she’ll get to go on another date w/ you, so she’s doing everything in her power to woo u

↠and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working 🥺👉👈

jirou- hanging out in her room

↠kyouka jirou, being the more introverted person she is, wouldn’t really want to go somewhere super public, like mina would

↠i also believe that she’d want to be friends (or at least acquaintances) with you before asking you on a date- she’s easily annoyed by people, so i think that she’d need to be comfortable around you if she was to be romantically interested 

↠and you’ve ticked all these boxes! you understand her sarcastic, blunt personality, and find it pretty amusing. beyond all that, she’s kind and caring, and deep down, she aspires to be a hero for all the right reasons. who wouldn’t love her for that?

↠so for your first date with kyouka, i think she’d want to be somewhere quiet and intimate with you. she wouldn’t want any interruptions ((specifically from jammingyay, who enjoys butting his head in other peoples’ business))

↠the most comfortable place for her would be her room, since it’s really just an extension of her personality, and since you’re quite close, she’d be okay with letting you in her private space. she trusts you.

↠just two guys bein dudes 🤠 ((if you’re a girl, it’s just sappho and her friend--))

↠music is one of the biggest things in jirou’s life, and i think she’d want to share it with you. that is, if you’d let her :)) she has dozens of different instruments, so if you want to attempt to learn something, she’d be totally down!! 

↠please show her what kind of music you’re into! no matter what it is, she’ll listen to it. she wants to get to know what kind of person you are when you’re not around other people, and music is a great way to do that. even if you don’t have the same taste as her, she wouldn’t mind, since a) she’ll listen to pretty much anything, she’s not picky; and b) it’s something that you’re showing her, and that’s enough to make her happy

↠she’s not a very formal person, so i think she’d just want to talk to you and hang out. i’d think kyouka would be more of a fan of a gradual relationship, one that starts from friends and slowly evolves into more. and yes, as you can probably tell, i am a sucker for mutual pining and friends-to-lovers tropes-- im a simple hoe 😌

↠she’s super fun to hang out with!! her sense of humor is really snarky, she also enjoys talking shit about people she doesn’t like. if you’re not into that, she’s able to carry on conversation really well. there’s not a moment of awkward silence between you

↠jirou actually really likes talking shit about people hsahsh- as long as it’s someone that’s been mean in some way. she won’t say anything bad about someone who hasn’t done anything to deserve it. but if you’ve wronged her in some way, boy, do you have it COMING

↠by the end of it, i just know your cheeks hurt from laughing 

↠she’s just a really fun person to be around, she may not be the most bubbly person ever, but she’s super easy-going and cool ((jirou bias incoming ekejke))

↠i do think she’d try to sneak some kind of affection if she thinks you’d reciprocate- if you’re really getting along well, she might snake her hand into yours when you’re sitting on the bed, laughing

↠honestly you might not even notice until she stops, because your hand feels empty and cold without her like your heart aa

↠if she’s really into you?? might get a smol peck on the cheek 👉👈 please try to get a smol peck on the cheek, it’s very cute and she gets so flustered

↠she goes up to you as you’re about to leave her room, grabs your shoulder, turns you around, and gives you an adorable if not slightly aggressive smooch

↠then she reFUSES to acknowledge what she just did akdfld- she turns away, beet red, and is completely silent

↠meanwhile you’re probably laughing your ass off because wow she’s so cute

↠kudos if you give one back to her, baby is on the verge of exploding ejkdjf 

↠her heart just can’t handle what you’re doing to her

↠and despite what her appearance is, her heart is doing backflips- she’s whipped <33

momo: tea and c u d d l e s

↠she’s a very fancy person, obviously. yaoyorozu wants only the best for everyone she loves, and that, of course, includes you! she loves showing affection through giving things to others. her family status only magnifies this aspect of her personality, as being born into wealth gives her the means to spoil you rotten

↠and even though she’s bougie as all hell, she also somehow maintains an elegant and simple air about her. it’s impressive, really. it’s not like she tries to flex her money, it’s just a part of her life, and she enjoys using her privilege well

↠that being said, what’s more elegant and mature than going for tea? it’s a lovely pastime that momo would love to include you in! 

↠lowkey,, she’s a whole sugar momma dfkdjla im not even joking- she doesn’t try to be, but virtually everything she does shows how rich she is

↠you arrive at the tea room, and by god is it fancy. there’s multiple chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, which is decorated with classic renaissance-style paintings. all the tables are set with white cloth, plates made of pure fine china, flowers and woven baskets set everywhere to create a cottagecore-like setting. the air about it is so sophisticated, from the patrons (wait is that a celebrity-) to the decorations

↠your face is kinda just,,, 😮,, because what in the world did momo get you into??

“momo, you’re so sweet, and this place is lovely, but don’t you think this is a bit much? not that i don’t absolutely appreciate it, it’s just that this seems really expensive, and i don’t want you to have to spend that much for just one date.”

↠she just chuckles, saying that it was “really nothing” (???? MISS GIRL???)

“don’t worry, y/n, this isn’t too much! i want to have fun today, and this place is so nice! let’s just find a table, alright?”

↠like, hunney, you’re so kind, but this is a LOT

↠but if you say so....

↠she looks at you with the most enthusiastic, wholesome eyes, and soon you’re following her like a puppy towards your table. the waiter sits you down, and leaves, giving you a moment to glaze over the menu to find a drink

↠and there’s so many types of teas, at least 30 on this page alone. you hadn’t even heard of half of these drinks, how would you know if you’d like them?

↠yaomomo seemed to notice your puzzlement, and said that you could get a pot of something simple, like jasmine green or earl grey, and she would get something fancier that you could try. why not?

↠a few minutes later, you’ve already adjusted to the sophisticated and intimidating environment, focusing only on the girl across from you, and how her eyes glittered with happiness

↠she orders a few normal tea foods, like scones with jam, lemon curd, and devonshire cream, and finger sandwiches. the fanciest thing she buys, though, is a blooming tea that arrives in a clear pot. it has an open flower inside of it, which is what the tea is infused with. it’s nearly 16,100 yen for one pot, though, and while you protest its expense, momo reassures you that it’s no problem (you just learned not to say anything about money, as it wouldn’t stop yaoyorozu from spoiling you)

↠ngl, it’s so fun to pretend to be fancy for a few hours at a tea room !! you acted as if you were a member of high society, using stereotypes to exaggerate your actions. it made some people only slightly irritated, but hey, it got a laugh out of a pretty girl, so who’s the real winner? 

↠yaomomo taught you some classy etiquette that you should definitely use, it makes her so happy to think that you’re learning about new things while still enjoying your time with her

↠she makes really good conversation!! her intellect seeps through everything she says, anyone who talks to her would be able to tell that she’s extremely well-spoken and mature. momo is modest, and deflects a lot of the compliments you try to give her, so if you try to display your admiration for her, you’d probably need to be very specific about it. she doesn’t have the best self-image when it comes to her heroism and field work. spoken affection sometimes doesn’t get through to her, but you know what does? physical affection!

↠she loves cuddles, and will regularly take you back to her house after a date to cuddle in her bed. her mattress is legendary, and it’s comfortable as hell. there’s an abundance of pillows and the bed isn’t too soft or too firm, and it’s always somehow an amazing temperature???? mattresses are investments, and this was definitely a good one

↠momo loves the intimacy and trust of holding you, it allows her to escape from overthinking and only focus on you, her beautiful partner. she doesn’t care if she’s the big or little spoon, but her favorite kind of cuddling is when you’re on your back and she’s curled into your side, head tucked under your chin and hand on your chest

↠she can do this for hours, please let her. she feels safe with you, confident, because you’re choosing to spend time with her in this quiet moment instead of being off somewhere else.

↠in conclusion,,, 💕women 💕

-denkineptune

[justmelagain]

The Last Pan of Dressing

Dressing is my favorite food group. No, it’s not the same as “stuffing.” All black women and rural Southern white women know how to make it — everyone else just attempts it.

Consistency-wise, it should be like finely crumbled cornbread (not shredded loaf bread) near-soupy in chicken or turkey juice, with chopped onions and egg-whites and tiny chunks of chicken or turkey. I like to put it in a bowl and pour milk over it and get it piping hot in the microwave. 

The four main grocery chains in my area are Walmart, Kroger, Publix, and Ingles.

That’s in the order of the most-used to the least-used.

It’s not surprising that Ingles is more popular among conservative evangelicals. It’s headquartered in 85% white Asheville and proudly emblazons “AMERICAN OWNED” over every door of every store.

Because the South is genteel and religious, a lot of things are spoken in code. By now everyone knows “Let’s Go Brandon” is code for “Fuck Joe Biden.” This one came about accidentally as the NASCAR audience was chanting “Fuck Joe Biden” and a NASCAR official tried to cover for it by claiming they were actually saying “Let’s Go Brandon” in reference to a NASCAR driver named Brandon.

When President Biden held a mass phone call with kids who called in to find out the progress of Santa’s trip, the father of one child yelled, Let’s Go Brandon” on the group call and is now trying to parlay his newfound stardom among evangelicals into a run for political office.

Evangelicals would never cuss but they will substitute-cuss and giggle like a third-grader who just got away with eating a booger.

What a lot of people don’t know is “Fuck Joe Biden” was ALREADY code. Do you think Confederate-evangelicals really hate an old white man? Of course not.

“Fuck Joe Biden” stands for many things: *Jews will not replace us; *We need to ship all the foreigners back home; *I’m tired of my hard-earned white money being stolen from me to support black people who won’t work. 

There are other codes among white people in the South. “That area has gotten really bad” means black people have moved in. “Don’t go through that area after dark; you’d be in a mess if you had a flat tire” refers to a black neighborhood. “That store has really gone down” means a lot of black people are now shopping there.

I love dressing. My second favorite food group is Brunswick stew, another dish that can’t be replicated outside the South.

But dressing is my favorite. My Granny Omie used to make the best there was when I was a kid. My former mother-in-law actually beat that during the happiest 20 years of my life. She would often make a second pan just for me to take home after the big family gatherings on Easter and Thanksgiving and Christmas. So I understand the trauma of someone beating me to the last pan of dressing. I really do.

But this was not about dressing.

This was code for something much bigger and deeper.

One of my old classmates from my high school recently posted this: “The Carrollton Ingles needs to overhaul and revamp their Customer Service in the Deli Department (possibly replace a few employees) and the so called Non-Caring Manager needs to be replaced ASAP. I had an experience about a month ago. Went to get a few plates of dressing on a Sunday afternoon. I was told the pan of dressing was the last one they had and a fellow of color wanted some at the same time. I asked the lady to make sure I got mine first because I was ahead of him. Well after scraping the sides of the pan in order to get me 2 plates, low and behold they brought out a fresh pan of dressing for him. My damn BP went through the roof but I kept my mouth shut until I got to the counter to pay and then I brought up what happened. They said they would adjust the bill but I went ahead and paid for it. About 45 minutes ago I went out there one more time after work to get a couple of plates for me and my mother. I just had got to the Deli and looking at what choices I had. At that point, no Deli employ recognized that I was around. About that time a man of color walked between me and the Deli counter as though I wasn’t even around. The woman of color turned around to help the man of color and didn’t say a word to me. BP boiling once again. Luckily I kept my mouth shut not to embarrass anyone and went to find the pot-bellied store manager who expressed no concern whatsoever. Last time dealing with this disgusting place. Piss poor customer service in the Deli and very piss poor response from the manager. I just don’t and won’t get it.”

I’ll give you a minute.

Jesus.

And bear in mind, neither the hand that wrote this or all the eyes that read it have any idea that there is anything at all wrong with what was said here.         He even thought he was accommodating the latest politically-correct jargon by saying “man of color;” as proud of himself as a third grader eating a booger. Brother, if you’re now reading this, “of color” encompasses black people, Latinos, Native Americans, Asians, and anyone else who is non-white — the term you were looking for is “black.”

Notice he wasn’t at all empathetic over the thought of the black man not getting ANY dressing. And he was just fine with his own dressing being scrapings from the sides of the pan, AS LONG AS he thought those scrapings were the very last of the dressing and he “got his first” and the black man didn’t get any.

He was only upset when a fresh pan was located and his “me first” greed had already filled his own plate with sub-par scrapings.

His blood pressure was boiling because the black man had ended up with the better dressing that he, in his whiteness, felt HE deserved.

I can say, with no doubt whatsoever, if I had been in his shoes and knew the black man beside me wanted dressing too, I would have turned to him and said, “you wanna split what’s left?” and then told the Deli clerk to give each of us a plate of the scrapings, instead of me getting two plates of scrapings and him getting none.

And in this particular case, I would have been rewarded by the discovery of a fresh pan of dressing, so I and the black man would have both received one plate of scrapings and one plate of fresh dressing.

I do that sort of thing all the time. The Golden Corral buffet I go to almost nightly has about a 90% black customer base. If I am at the bar dipping food onto my plate, there is usually a black person behind me waiting for the ladle.

I love fried chicken, especially dark meat, especially legs. If I’m at the chicken tray and I see some black children behind me, I will skip over the legs I really want and get a thigh because I have, many times, heard parents explaining to disappointed children that there are no more legs.

Yesterday I went by Golden Corral and made three to-go New Year’s Day plates to take to my parents. We had black-eyed peas, turnip greens, chicken livers, cornbread and raw purple onions.

But a similar thing happened. There were three pieces of cornbread on the bar. I needed all three. But a black woman was behind me, so I only got two and left the third. I was rewarded by the man behind the counter asking if I needed more. He brought out a fresh cake of cornbread, sliced it like pizza and drizzled clarified butter on it.

I’ve gone to that Ingles in Carrollton twice since I read that post. First times I had ever been in the store.

It was clean and well-lit and items arranged immaculately on the shelves.

And in despair I bowed my head "There is no peace on earth," I said For hate is strong and mocks the song Of peace on earth, good will to men.” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote these words when his son was terribly injured fighting for the North in the Civil War.

This is what caused the Civil War.

This is what caused the Confederacy to rise again beginning with the election of Barack Obama.

This is what led to the election of Trump.

This is what led to the Insurrection a year ago.

Hate.

It both defines and mocks evangelicalism.

It’s right in front of us, in black and white. 

The Great White Fear is “the blacks are taking over.”

EVERYTHING else, is in some way related to that fear.

All the way down to the last pan of dressing.

- Cree Hardegree

[kleptosuperstar]

hiii so uhh i really don't think anyone will see this because...i literally have one follower but im kinda making this for myself because me and my cousin are going to the mall and a few stores around the city in a few days SPECIFICALLY to lift and I made a list of things that we both want PLUS some tips for these stores seeing as I DO lift from most of them a lot sooo..yeah

SPENCERS: a moderately easy store seeing as there are TONS of blind spots and LP isn't employed. To top it off, cameras are never monitored, however they are low-hanging and somewhat high quality. Usually only 2-5 employees but the store is almost always crowded so if you find a blind spot it's a free for all. They wont chase but might call mall security.

What we want:

h20 piercing cleaner x2

toy cleaner

jojoba oil

hemp oil

septum and nose jewelery (we will actually have to purchase this, seeing as if you steal the jewelery they hand to you they WILL know you stole no matter what. Plus the packaging is riddled with RFID tags)

HOT TOPIC: Not that many blind spots, but employees usually don't care and rarely count clothing articles, which may have a tag or two, so check for those. Cameras are never monitored and the stores usually have a large layout so just watch out for customers and employees, find a blind spot and throw a bunch of shit into your bag They don't chase! :D.

What we want:

distressed thigh highs

over the knee thigh highs with bow

black fishnet lace thigh highs

black and white stripe arm warmers

black fishnet fingerless gloves

black floral tights

CLAIRE'S: whew lawd. I really really want to be helpful on this one but Claire's is a laughably easy place to lift from. No cameras, usually only 1 or 2 employees and if one is giving a piercing it's a free-for-all. THEY HAVE MIRRORS SO AVOID THOSE. My favorite blind spot there is behind the register if there is no one there, and that's all I have to say there.

What I want: (she doesn't want anything from Claire's apparently🙄)

Headphones

A tiara

Nail polish

VICTORIA'S SECRET: first of all lol, i feel ZERO shame in lifting from them. Please note that they do have cameras, and their SAs are trained to look out for shoplifters, however most of them are just confused college girls lol. Panties are NOT tagged. What I like to do is take a medium sized empty makeup bag and put it in my purse, and once I arrive to VS i put the makeup bag in the tote, I also drop my phone into the tote. I go around the store, picking out panties that are my size and i drop them so they can fall directly into the makeup bag. I do this with as many as I can fit into the bag and I do this with small makeup items as well. Once I'm done, I reach into the bag as if I'm looking for my phone (which i dropped in earlier) and that's the moment when i zip up the zipper of the makeup bag and pull out my phone immediately after and pretend to check the time and say something like "Damn, I gotta go. I'm late." Or something like that. Put the makeup bag in your purse and play around on your phone as you exit the store. And that's really it :) I rarely lift bras from there anymore so I can't REALLY help you there.

What I want:

a bunch of panties and some lip gloss!

BARNE'S AND NOBLES: I've never lifted from this place but I know friends who have. I'll give you the tips they gave me. There are cameras, and they are being monitored, but there are PLENTY of blind spots seeing as it is a very large store. The kid's section has no cameras tho, so if you're like me and look younger than you are, this could be for your advantage. No one expects you to steal when you're vibing in the kid's section. Most books have RFID tags, and hardcover books sometime have books engraved in the cover, so watch out for those. Most manga, some magazines, and just overall 99% of the books are tagged. Get what you want, flip through them and look for RFID tags while pretending to "read". If an employee sees you sitting down "reading" they won't suspect you unless they actually see you ripping out the tags. The worst that could happen is that they could ask you to move out of the book aisle so other customers can come through, if that happens, simply find another blind spot. Slip them into your bags like they're yours as SOON as you know they're rid of RFID tags. They won't chase, but probably will try to get you back into the store and if that doesn't work they'll try to get a license plate number or give your description to the police, neither usually goes anywhere tbh.

What we want:

fire force volume 1

fire force volume 2

fire force volume 3

fire force volume 4

Akame Ga Kill

Soul eater

Black lagoon

Kakegurui vol. 1

The seven deadly sins volume 1

Spy x family 1

Spy x family 2

Spy x family 3

Black butler vol. 1

Black butler vol. 2

Black butler vol. 3

Black butler vol. 4

Wotakoi vol. 1

Wotakoi vol. 2

Gangsta

Dictionary of witchcraft

The anatomy of the occult

Charms, spells, and formula

Moon spells

Gothic beauty magazine number 19

Nocturnal witchcraft

Necronomicon

The good witch's daily spellbook

A big book of practical spells

Any book on astrology

Gothic grimoire

Shingeki no Kyonin

Ulta: The second store I've ever lifted from. This store is easy, but not laughably. I feel like this would be a starter for babylifters. This store has mild LP, so watch out for those and NEVER EVER EVER conceal in front of customers, you should never do this in general but especially NOT in an Ulta. Get to your blindspot and make sure to detag depending on what you plan on lifting. Those mfs at Ulta tag like crazy. Put everything in your bag and remember to NEVER get too greedy at this store. They have a STRICT, VERY VERY STRICT no chase policy.

What we want:

better than sex mascara

lipstick

eyeshadow

makeup brushes

black liquid and stick liner

pink liquid liner (if they have it)

bronzer

brown eyeliner

eyeliner pencil

maracuja oil

any colorful eyeshadow pallate lol

WALMART: My walmart is so easy it hurts. Maybe about 5 cameras throughout the whole store to my knowledge, so the whole thing is basically a blind spot. The makeup aisle is heavily monitored tho so whenever I'm over there I make an effort to never look up to those cameras. Grab whatever you want/need and AVOID EMPLOYEES!!! they're everywhere. As well as customers. They are the two most annoying problems I've ever had lifting from a Walmart. I've noticed that aisles where you get things such as building materials are the most empty with no cameras. People usually only go to walmart because the food is cheap, so there are a lot of families who are usually only at one side of the store. Its rare that people ever need materials like those so seek out aisles like that to use as a blind spot. Wal-Mart doesn't seem to tag that many things, but ALWAYS check no matter what store you're at. If you're lifting something on the expensive side, just check for that.

What I want:

kinder buenos x2

sugar free monster energy

paint

paintbrushes

black lace

blue eyeliner

blush

nail polish

socks

THE DOLLAR TREE:

Pretty easy store tbh. The cameras are fake, and if they aren't they're never being monitored. I don't know about ALL layouts but mine has SO many blindspots it's crazy. If you're just looking for a snack, some makeup, or maybe a meal ? (Yes, you can get a whole meal if you lift enough stuff) then the dollar tree would be your place of interest. There are almost no employees walking around the store. There are usually only 2, and they switch between working at the registers and cleaning out the front of the store or whatever. Honestly this store is so easy just stuff shit in your bag lol. Even if you get caught they won't chase or call the police. Their stock is WAYY too cheap for that. I go there to steal candy or makeup brushes which is usually not worth paying for anyways so this is a beginner store. Knock yourself out ;)

What I want:

literally anything i see there that i want😭

welllll if you actually made it this far, thank you so much! I hope this helped someone and I hope one day I can make a master list of stores myself instead of just picking selective ones but this was all i was able to do :( i really REALLY hope this helped someone lmao just remember

✨ if its chain, its free reign✨

[icollectbones]

LOOK AT MY BETTA TANK

My fish’s name is Clyde and his tank is 0.26 gallons (filled to 0.21)

Jk fooled you I would never put a betta in something that small with no heater or filter i photoshopped the fish in there (that is my room and my desk tho) it’s just an old sea monkey tank from when I was like 9. Also the betta would not look that healthy.

Some ppl would do that though and I wish they knew not to, and pet stores would stop marketing half dead “cup bettas” to put in 0.25 gallon aquariums (if you can even call it an aquarium) or 3 gallon fish bowls with a fake plant and some gravel and no heater or filter.

Big chain pet stores are never a reliable source of information because they don’t train their employees to specialize in the care of every animal they take care of. Small individual owned or smaller chain pet stores are more reliable but you still need to to research. And chances are that brightly coloured fish tank or hamster cage that’s cheap and highly advertised in petsmart isn’t adequate housing for your pet.

Bettas need a heater, filter, plenty of hiding areas (plants, hides), if they’re any type of Betta except short finned none of the decorations should be sharp enough to rip a pantyhose trying your very hardest (and even with shortfins they shouldn’t be super sharp but plastic plants and not perfectly round edges aren’t *as* dangerous) so fish safe silicone hides, hides with all smooth/rounded edges, silk plants, or flimsy can’t-cut-pantyhose plastic plants (the pantyhose test is actually good for decorations in any long-finned fish tank), substrate, at least 5 gallon tanks long (longer than they are high) or if differently shaped still longer than they are high, lids that don’t allow them to jump out, the surface of the water can’t be covered/water should not be filled up to touch the lid because bettas breathe with a labyrinth organ as well as gills and need access to the surface to get air or they will slowly suffocate to death (no, adding a bubbler doesn’t fix that issue, it prolongs the suffering, bettas don’t actually need separate aeration as long as they have a proper filter), high quality fish flakes and frozen food or if you feel like it live food every so often, not to be housed with other bettas unless breeding or making a proper sorority (all female bettas in a very large tank with plenty of places to hide and only if you’ve done a lot of research, plus needing to know the individual temperament of the bettas before housing them together), *if* housing them with other animals/fish only to be housed with very neutral fish in the right sized aquarium for more than one species if co-housing/don’t overstock them they will kill your other fish if they’re stressed, and the tank needs to be cycled/have the proper water ‘stats’. The old betta standard of “3 gallons and a filter, cycled, substrate, 2 places to hide, lid, fish flakes” or the even older “basically any container 0.25 gallons or more, a plant, substrate, fish flakes” are both outdated and we know better now. It’s “5 gallon long, cycled, 3 not sharp hiding places, heater, filter, substrate, lid, open water surface, high quality food/varied diet” as the absolute bare minimum but the more the better.

Buying your betta from smaller pet stores who don’t keep them in literal cups next to each other or buying them from reputable online stores is best, but look up guides for how to spot the healthiest one if you can only buy a large chain store “cup betta”.

I don’t hate ppl that don’t follow that bare minimum with their bettas, the ones who have been told better and aren’t actively on their way to fix it as soon as they can afford to really bother me though. It’s another whole life you’re responsible for, and even if you just see them as decoration they look prettier with those bare minimum guidelines (brighter colours, better flare, fuller fins, more active) anyways, so just take care of them.

This concludes my “daily (not actually daily it just sounds nice) rant abt improper pet care I’m using my blog as a notebook I rant into and garbage bin for my shitpost-like thoughts”

[yellowocaballero]

The Crow’s Funeral Snippet: Jon Gets Involved In Local Politics, Regrets It

Annabelle, of course, was standing on the other side of the door. 

Slightly less obviously, she was dressed in a finely tailored suit, complete with high heels and a gorgeous dripping silver chain-link necklace. Her hair was tied up in an up-do of braids piled neatly on top of her head, and there was even a briefcase. 

She looked Jon up and down critically. He was wearing sweatpants and a holey shirt. 

“You forgot,” she condemned, “didn’t you?”

“No I didn’t,” Jon said reflexively. He paused. “Forgot what?”

Annabelle pinched the bridge of her nose. Jon noticed that she was even wearing her usual all-black lipstick and winged eyeliner. “The council committee for London I planned for today. Remember? The one with a representative for each Entity?” Jon stared blankly at her. “There was an invite?”

“Oh, that. I don’t check my mail.” Jon looked at Daisy, who was now pressing aggressively against Jon. “Did you open up any mail recently?” Daisy barked. Jon looked back at Annabelle. “She ate it.”

“...of course she did.”  Written for no real reason besides for the fact that I know too much about my own AU and I care about Annabelle. This story takes place both pre- and post- story: six months after Jon enters London, and six months after the events of the story. We talk about childhood/adulthood, stagnancy/growth, good/evil, and the inherent metaphor of a Nintendo DS. Sometimes...found family...is bad. Rest under the cut. 

In the third month, boiling and bubbling over, someone knocked at Jon’s door. 

Not the door to his office. The door to his flat, which had a very large ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’ sign on it, and was always locked. The employees were, granted, Jon and Daisy, but the message was conveyed. Jon saw the sign in stores and copied it, as he copied many aspects of business models. Jon didn’t quite understand how to run a business, but he had read both ‘What they teach you in Harvard Business School’ - whatever a Harvard was - and ‘What they don’t teach you in Harvard Business School’, so he figured he was set. Daisy had also grabbed him a Girl Scout book on starting your own lemonade stand, which helped more than the other two books combined. Harvard Business School could take notes. 

Jon rolled off the bed, where he had been downloading knowledge of string games and trying to figure out how to do them. Omniscence was closer to reading an instruction manual than actually knowing how to do something, but at least that left Jon with plenty of time to learn skills. Even if it wasn’t necessarily his favorite activity - he was bad at a lot of them, which would frustrate him and make him wreck the craft. Daisy kept on saying he needed a hobby other than reading but what did she know, anyway -

Daisy, from where she had been sleeping at the foot of the bed, lifted her head and barked sleepily. 

“I’ll get them to go away,” Jon promised. Or eat them. Maybe just eat them. 

But when Daisy bristled and jumped off the bed, barking heavily, he knew who it was. Jon sighed, hastily shoving a shirt over his head, and undid the three deadbolts before unlocking the door. 

Annabelle, of course, was standing on the other side. Slightly less obviously, she was dressed in a finely tailored suit, complete with high heels and a gorgeous dripping silver chain-link necklace. Her hair was tied up in an up-do of braids piled neatly on top of her head, and there was even a briefcase. 

She looked Jon up and down critically. He was wearing sweatpants and a holey shirt. 

“You forgot,” she condemned, “didn’t you?”

“No I didn’t,” Jon said reflexively. He paused. “Forgot what?”

Annabelle pinched the bridge of her nose. Jon noticed that she was even wearing her usual all-black lipstick and winged eyeliner. “The council committee for London I planned for today. Remember? The one with a representative for each Entity?”

Jon stared blankly at her. 

“There was an invite?”

“Oh, that. I don’t check my mail.” Jon looked at Daisy, who was now pressing aggressively against Jon. “Did you open up any mail recently?” Daisy barked. Jon looked back at Annabelle. “She ate it.”

“...of course she did.” Annabelle glanced down at Daisy, whose fur was standing on end as she growled lowly. “Have you had any success?”

“You would have noticed if I did,” Jon said shortly. 

“Have you tried talking to -”

“Yes,” Jon snapped, “but apparently some of us have better things to do than attend meetings and cure dogs.”

Annabelle intelligently dropped the matter, instead frowning at Jon. He crossed his arms, fighting the urge to hunch over away from her dark and perceptive stare. But instead of pushing him, she said, “Go get dressed in something a little appropriate, please. You look like you crawled out of the Buried.” Daisy barked, which Annabelle ignored. “What are you doing to your hair?”

Jon hunched defensively. It was a little matted and frizzy, but who was counting? “Daisy can’t exactly shave it anymore, and I don’t really...know what to do with it...am I doing something wrong? I bathe.”

It was very important to Daisy that he bathe and brush his teeth. Jon didn’t know what the big deal was, but if it was important to her then he did it.

Annabelle just pinched the bridge of her nose again, checking her wrist-watch. “Buzzing your hair is a crime against God, and letting your hair look like that is a crime against me. I’ll take care of this later. Just get ready in the next five minutes, or I’m filling your fridge with spiders again.”

Jon got ready in four. Annabelle didn’t joke around with that stuff. 

He didn’t really know what a council committee was. He didn’t know why he had to go to one either, seeing as Jon only tended to concern himself with Daisy. Daisy had been taking up a lot of his concern lately. Then his mood had plummeted again, and in the last month they’ve both been recalcitrant to leave the flat for anything but eating, and he was capable of noticing when he was hunting a little vindictively, and - anyway. 

He downloaded the knowledge, and then made a face when it didn’t really help. One of those nasty little political things. What was with his fellow Avatars and politics? Just torture anyone who bothers you. If they were one of those freaks who liked being tortured, then just smite them. Life was easy and very simple once you remembered that basic rule. 

But Annabelle was really into it - she kept on saying something about ‘order’ and ‘regulation’ and ‘first dibs’ - and she tended to drag him along into these things. She thought it was ‘important’ that Jon ‘know what was going on’ or something. Jon liked Knowing things, but once you know everything you realize that some things aren’t really interesting enough to know. 

When he asked Daisy if she wanted to go with, she feigned sleep. She had been hyperactive lately, compensating for her months of starvation with unbridled and frantic Hunting. Jon had taken her to one of those little pockets where people were running around and screaming all the time, and let her run wild in the rainforest for a while. It was the kind of fun bonding experience they hadn’t had in ages, and Jon had the opportunity to pluck his own grapes from the vine too. 

There had been an old man who really hadn’t been happy to see Jon, which had freaked him out a bit. He had started going on a little bit about how Jon had ruined his life, but he only got a few sentences in before a giant, carnivorous plant had eaten him. That was lucky. 

Jon had ripped the dimension apart as he left. Nasty little place. Nothing good there. 

So Jon left the house without Daisy for the first time since she had been well enough to move around, and with Annabelle. Daisy had been waiting at the door with a rucksack packed with his favorite book and his Nintendo DS, which made Annabelle ask her where the juicebox was. Daisy tried to bite her again. Jon didn’t know why everybody couldn’t just get along. 

There was a cab waiting outside, driven by another skeleton, and Annabelle quickly bundled him into it. Jon slouched in the corner and started playing WarioWare as Annabelle leafed through typewritten documents, lips pursing and making notes on the margins of each one with a red pen. She was muttering to herself, somewhat entertainingly. 

“My fourth arm for a computer, I swear to Jesus. My fourth and fifth arms. My sixth arm for a computer…”

“Are those the internet machines you told me about?” Jon asked, scribbling his stylus on the screen. Ashley cheered him on. He loved Ashley. “Do council committees need the internet?”

“The internet’s for a lot more than council committees Jon,” Annabelle said tightly. “They’re for video games. Ememoharepeegees -”

“Gesundheit.”

“ - bitcoin mining, instant messaging, online dating, freaking Google Docs -”

“Do you want it back?” Jon asked, bored. “I can make you the internet.”

Annabelle’s pen froze on the paper, hovering over a bullet-point list. “The entire internet? You can just do that?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Jon poked his tongue out his mouth in concentration as he pressed the monkeys in a rhythmic order. Rhythm games were his jam. “That’s, like, the pocket nightmare dimension from Tron, right? I can do that. Addictions are easy. Put people inside, trap them inside a video or something. It’d be mostly for torture but you could probably use it normally.”

Annabelle stared at him, expression blank, for so long it made Jon a little uncomfortable and defensive. What had he said wrong? Daisy was usually good at interpreting these things for him, although sometimes when people went on about ‘violence’ she was just as confused as him. Finally, she said, “No, that’s alright. I always hated Black Mirror anyway.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a telly - never mind. I don’t want you getting any more ideas.”

***

The council committee was held in the stupidest building Jon had ever seen in his entire life. And he had been in London for six months. He knew stupid buildings.

‘London City Hall’ or whatever was this awful giant, lopsided, obloid monstrosity. All glass and windows, with nary a brick in sight, Jon hated it instantly and severely. He was immediately filled with the urge to turn to somebody and commiserate with them about shitty architecture, but there was nobody else in the cab but Annabelle - and, well, she seemed to have other things on her mind. 

The neighborhood around it was filled with a mix of equally stupid buildings and perfectly respectable buildings that looked as if they had been made a long time ago. The sidewalks were relatively abandoned, and the streets were empty of everything but the endless rotation of tourist double-decker busses. Jon knew that this wasn’t one of those districts where people actually lived and roamed - instead, it was one of those business districts that people only stepped inside for work or city business. Like that silly little Palace of Westminster building that Annabelle had taken him to months ago when she was showing him the city. 

That building Annabelle had especially loved. It was filled with old white men with sagging jowls and liver spots, looping in endless routines and miniature atrocities. Annabelle had asked him to take as many Statements as possible, and Jon had needed no encouraging. 

That had been a strange trip. Normally people found his little monologues boring, because they were idiots with no taste, but Annabelle had listened to every single one. She had been enraptured, excited and triumphant. She had dragged him into some “Lord’s Chamber” or something and posed on the throne as Jon obediently took polaroids. Well, so long as she was happy. 

Jon was already seeing that London City Hall was no better. Annabelle dragged him through it, anxiously checking and re-checking her files, as they effortlessly weaved between shambling zombies of old white men in suits. Jon tasted the ripe air of trauma from them - a similar taste to that spiralling academic building, but rather a little more tart - but Annabelle dragged him away before he could stop and eat them.

There were parts of London that were safe. Maybe even most of London - although nowhere was truly safe, not really, not every location was absolutely haunted. The grocer’s was the grocer’s; the chemist still sold your medication. Not that you really needed it anymore, but habit was habit. 

But some buildings, which were entrenched so firmly in hundreds of years of evil, could not be dissuaded from their nightmares. In that respect, the safest city in the United Kingdom became the most dangerous. Some buildings had been nightmares even before the end of the world. 

Jon, of course, gave very little shits about this beyond in the academic sense. Annabelle refused to let him duck out of her meeting to go snack, and she ended up dragging him in front of what looked like a smallish conference room. 

Annabelle stopped in front of it, taking a second to breathe in and out and check her makeup. She seemed to be hyping herself up for it, shaking out her arms loosely. Jon slouched behind her, hands jammed in his trenchcoat pockets. Annabelle had asked him to put on a less raggedy suit, but - well, he sometimes had nicer suits, but they got raggedy very quickly. She had also asked him to leave the trenchcoat at home, but no way. It was part of his Look. 

“You’re frightened,” Jon noted with interest. Annabelle was scared of less than he was, and she had much less of a reason. “What about this room scares you?”

“It’s not the people in the room,” Annabelle snapped, flashing her compact shut. “It’s what I’m trying to do. If this world’s going to last more than a few years before it devolves into fuckin’ Mad Max we need leadership. I didn’t put all of this work in just to -” At Jon’s blank look, she sighed. “Never mind. You don’t care. Just - try to trust me, Jon.”

“Of course I trust you,” Jon said, baffled. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She stared at him, expression inscrutable, for a long moment, before opening the door and pulling him in. 

It was a nice conference room, all wood panelling and that specific green shade you only saw in lawyer’s offices. There was a large rectangular table in the center, and more than a dozen luxurious chairs arranged around it. There was a big pull-down screen on the far wall. Jon didn’t know what it was for, but he knew that if he downloaded the information it wouldn’t help. Omniscence was so useless. 

In a move that horrified Annabelle, most of the attendees seemed to be there. They had been chatting - talking, actually, quite loudly - before Annabelle strode in and Jon slumped in after her. But in the second that they both stepped in, an abrupt hush swept the room, and every eye swiveled to them.

If Jon was honest with himself, he’d say that they didn’t quiet when Annabelle stepped in. He’d say that they quieted when Jon stepped in. That it was Jon who they were looking at. 

But Jon didn’t particularly feel like engaging with that. He didn’t like being stared at by people he didn’t know, and he didn’t like being out in public with people he didn’t know. He didn’t enjoy being in buildings or meeting new people, much less going to boring meetings. Jon decided all of this instantaneously, as every eye swiveled to him.

Rooms full of humans were fine. It was just humans. Nothing even vaguely intimidating about that, unless the humans were teenage girls. But these were Avatars - Jon could taste their nature in the air, a sharp and electric tingle - and when they stared at Jon he felt something heavier in their gaze. Oh, lord. There was a teenage girl here. 

Jon tried slumping to the back chair, but Annabelle grabbed his collar and dumped him in a comfortable chair to her right. Jon saw a little placard in front of it that read ‘THE BEHOLDING’. Great. 

“Thank you all for coming today,” Annabelle said crisply, and suddenly every worry was gone. She was calm, poised, confident, and professional. A perfect imitation of the officials and politicians who once really walked these halls, who passed laws and rubber-stamped policies. She could have passed for an assistant or junior staff member, bright and intrepid and ready to climb her way up the ladder. “Are we all accounted for?”

It seemed so. Every chair but one was filled. When Jon peered around at the placards, he saw that each one had a different Entity on it. One of the seats had no placard, and was occupied by said teenage girl. Four were unoccupied: the Spiral, the Slaughter, the Hunt and the Extinction. 

Annabelle sat down in the head chair, which seemed just a little fancier. She put her folder in front of her, eyes flickering down the room. “It seems that Helen couldn’t make it. The Hunt duo seem to have...recently met unfortunate ends. The Slaughter Avatar called ahead to say that they couldn’t make it - it was high school picture day? And...I suppose the Extinction Avatar still doesn’t exist.”

She glanced at Jon, who shook his head. “Do you want one?” Jon asked. “I can go find a climate change denier in this building and make one for you.”

That also disturbed Annabelle, as well as everyone else. Jon abruptly felt awkward, and hunched in his seat. He defensively pulled out his DS, his plans to fall asleep in the back of the room already foiled. 

Above him, Annabelle continued droning. “Still, I appreciate you all coming. I know that we haven’t all gathered since a bit after the apocalypse began -” Wait, they had? Since when? “ - but I hope we can agree that further coordination is necessary. We’ve already begun having serious territory and jurisdiction disputes, and it’s best that they’re resolved sooner rather than later.” Nobody looked very impressed, but Annabelle looked seriously at them all anyway. “I want us all to have an equal voice at this table. Save the fighting for another time. And please try to keep your powers out of here. I’ve already sworn to avoid using any of my Mother’s gifts in this room, and I hope you all can do the same.”

“Yeah?” A woman drawled. She was unfamiliar to Jon, like most people in the room, but she had a teenage girl sitting next to her who seemed to be paying rapt attention to Annabelle. “How are you going to enforce that?”

Annabelle stared at him for some reason. Jon jabbed at his DS and won the Mona minigame. Nothing more was said. 

“Alright, then. I’ve already collected motions from all of you prior to this meeting.” Motions? Annabelle hadn’t said anything like that. Maybe it was on the invitation Daisy ate, but somehow he doubted it. Annabelle looked down and traced her finger down to her first point. “Many of you suggested this, so I would like to introduce it as a general discussion. Territory disputes, apparently, are a point of contention between many of us.” She opened her briefcase and pulled out a large map, and if Jon looked over the top of his DS he could see that it was a map of London. She also pulled out a red marker, uncapping it. The sheet was laminated, and there were already circles and markings all over it. “We’ll go one at a time. Amherst, you’ve motioned that the Stranger is intruding within Camden.”

A foppish looking man on a dumb little top hat scowled, as the young woman sitting behind the Strange placard looked annoyed. “It is gentrification. Every apartment complex occupied by artist studios are stealing food from the plate of my insects.”

“You haven’t had Camden for a decade,” the Stranger woman said, rolling her eyes. The Omniscience informed Jon that her name was Sarah Baldwin. Vaguely familiar - had he seen her at a cafe? “Nobody lives in those rat-infested tenements anymore. Now all the rats are performance art. Which is us. Get over it.”

“What is performance art -”

“Motion for no more Avatars over the age of 40,” Sarah Baldwin said. “I hate how Amherst and Wakely are in this room.”

“I wish I could second that,” Annabelle said, to the great affront of two grimy old men, “but unfortunately we do have to deal with this. Amherst, I’ve heard several complaints from other council members that you’re infiltrating their territory.”

“I am made of bugs -”

Jon checked out after that.

Instead, he surveyed the room a bit. Nobody in it was really interesting, just a meaningless collection of self-important people. The only person in the room other than Annabelle who he recognized was Oliver, who was sitting at the very back doing his best to fall asleep. When Jon Stared at him a bit he took notice and subtly waved. Jon shyly waved back. Jon liked Oliver. 

Oliver mouthed something adjacent to ‘what is wrong with your hair’, offending Jon grievously. He didn’t look that bad, did he?

He glanced to his left, then down, to ask Daisy’s opinion, but he realized too late that she hadn’t come with him. Stupid. She could have come as part of the Hunt - they didn’t have anybody, it wasn’t as if they could complain. Not to Jon, anyway. 

But she wouldn’t have wanted to. Daisy hated being an Avatar, for reasons that Jon had just never understood. She tried explaining it to him a long time ago, trying to talk about how guilty it made her and how much harm she had done, but it had just confused him more. She had tried to explain up until the end, as Jon had grown more and more angry at her for her refusal. He had never understood. 

She had stopped talking about it lately, though. Which was good. Jon didn’t know what he’d do if she starved herself twice. He wouldn’t have tolerated it.

Daisy had told him that the most important thing in the world was to make your own choices. So he let her make hers. No matter how much he hated it. 

The others weren’t familiar at all. There was a woman with wild dark hair sitting behind the Dark placard, which confused Jon slightly until he decided that they likely hadn’t wanted to send the thirteen year old. There was this really wrinkly and gross old man for the Vast, a younger looking but older feeling man for the Buried, a deathly pale woman for the Lonely, the muscular woman and the teenager for the Desolation...why did they have two…

The teenager was staring at Jon. She had intense orange eyes, the kind that bored into you and never blinked. She looked away every few seconds, as if she was being subtle, but when her gaze drifted back to him again he met her eyes with an unimpressed stare. She squeaked and looked away firmly, hiding behind her curtain of long red hair. 

Okay. Whatever. Kids were weird. Jon was glad he had never been one. 

Jon swapped out WarioWare for Pokemon SoulSilver, opening back up where he left off catching another MissingNo. His entire team was full of the things. He wanted a Mareep, damn it. 

Finally, Annabelle rapped the table sharply and said, “It’s agreed, then. Everybody submit specific written documentation of your territory by city block, and fax it to me by our next meeting. Please abide by the resolutions to the conflicts we discussed here. Any objections to moving onto our next order of business?”

“I have an objection to the Dark’s questionable behavior,” the Buried guy rumbled. He was dripping dirt everywhere. Why didn’t anybody complain to him about his hygiene? “In the words of the lad Brody, they are kill stealing. If they do not withdraw their nightmares from our embrace of the Earth, we will unleash retribution with extreme prejudice. The dirt is a holy place, and we will not be polluted by -”

“Oh, stick your shovel up your fat ass, Wakely,” the woman with wild black hair said. “People aren’t afraid of the fucking dirt, they’re afraid of the darkness in the tombs. Walk into a mausoleum sometime.”

“You poach the End’s territory now too, wench?”

“Please leave me out of this,” Oliver said. 

“If you call me wench one more time, you’ll be watching the back of your eye sockets for eternity,” the woman said pleasantly, “so royally fuck you.”

“Um, not to interrupt, but that’s not really how it works,” the teenager said, and the death glares between the two turned on her. She hunched her shoulders, but her expression stayed firm. “The terror is going to overlap. That’s just how it is. The Buried and the Dark are not entirely...separate things, they’re gradients that overlap. If you get all finicky about what belongs to who, then you’re just going in circles…”

“The last thing we need is the coward Messiah of the Eternal Flame telling me how to worship my god,” the woman snapped. 

“Watch your fucking mouth, Manuela,” the muscular woman said flatly.

Then they were glaring, and Wakely was saying something else snide, and Manuela was making another dig at the teenager as the muscular woman bitched, and Jon abruptly wanted them all to shut up. 

“You’re being too loud,” Jon said. 

The entire room shut up immediately. The teenager opened her mouth, but the pale woman caught her eye and shook her head. 

Annabelle clapped her hands in the silence. “Onto the second motion, then! Infrastructure! Right now we are sorely missing a great deal of essential city infrastructure, and it’s becoming a huge problem. We’re still figuring out what’s mystically maintained, and what’s just being maintained because the humans haven’t figured out how to stop doing it yet, but there’s some work that’s being neglected. The Vast has motioned to reinstate the postal system.”

“Vetoed,” the Lonely woman said. 

“You can’t do that,” Annabelle said blankly. “We need to vote.”

“I’d like to make an argument for the motion, dear,” the Vast man said, making Annabelle’s eye twitch. “My argument is this: Amazon Prime is so convenient!”

“We have every Amazon warehouse under our control,” the representative from the Flesh said. He was...very fleshy. “It’d be no issue to go back to production.”

“Jared has a point. The Eye’s been feeding through Amazon for years,” Annabelle said thoughtfully. The mention of the Eye piqued Jon’s attention, but then he finally ran into a Mareep and he stopped paying attention again. “We can tap into the people who are living 1984 and get them back in industry.”

“Can we begin producing again?” the Desolation woman asked, interested. “We have all these people miserable at work, but nothing’s actually being made. If we let a little reality break into the nightmares…”

“Wouldn’t that be dangerous?” the Lonely woman asked sharply. “It’ll make it easier for them to escape.”

“They all escape eventually,” Sarah Baldwin said. “They all break out in days to months. We can afford a little more permeability if we actually get things working again.”

Then conversation was off and running about something that Jon didn’t really care about, so he checked out again. He didn’t know what all of this production and infrastructure stuff meant. Going Postal meant that he had a very good understanding of a mail system, but he didn’t have a personal interest. Who he would send letters to?

Jon quickly downloaded what Amazon was. Oh, that would be useful. Wait, he could get any book delivered to his door? Without having to go out hunting for it? How would this work without the internet - a catalogue? 

Everybody seemed invested in getting the internet back up, except for the two hundred year olds. Jared kept saying something about porn, whatever that was. If enough people felt like Annabelle, then maybe they would make it a priority. Jon didn’t know how he felt about that. 

He didn’t know how he felt about the fact that it was impossible. 

But everybody - or most people - genuinely seemed excited about it. They even seemed to be working together, intent on the same goal.

Sarah Baldwin wanted to know if we have enough people constantly under camera to have footage for television. Maybe we could get cable back up? DVDs were a lost cause, but if we could just start airing the VHS tapes…

Annabelle had a look of hook-ups (literally) in the film industry, maybe they could do something like that?

The Hahns are highly involved in production and distribution, Jared pointed out. There was no need to produce food, but if we wanted to increase access to goods it might be possible. 

Why? Why did they care? This world provided them everything they needed. 

For some reason, Jon felt a little defensive. What did they need all of these things for, anyway? All of this entertainment - cable and movies and internet. The world had books. What was so wrong with books? There were even old VHS tapes liberated from charity stores if you really wanted to get fancy. The most high-tech electronic Jon had ever found was the DS in his hands and a couple of games, which Salasea had given to him as an exotic artifact. Only Salasea owned these things now: trinkets and curiosities, hallmarks of an antiquated time. 

What was the point of these supply lines? People didn’t need to eat or shop or consume. Nightmares provided the facsimile, and since they got a little crazy if they never ate they were provided the security of food. Buying towels and shoes and toys...it was a waste of time. People had towels. Nobody outgrew their shoes or wore them out. Children’s toys didn’t break, and anything that made happiness a little easier to come by was discouraged.

Nothing was ever subtracted. Nothing was added. The world was frozen, captured in the amber of time, and it would never move backwards and forwards.

They knew this. Didn’t they?

“We have to make this place livable for us,” Annabelle was saying. She spoke oddly intensely, with a fervor that Jon had seen in her a few times before. Annabelle didn’t like to give off the impression that she cared about things, but once you knew her it was hard to miss. “It’s easier than ever to stay powerful and feed our Forces, but that doesn’t mean we can grow complacent. We have to work together to eat sustainably. To live sustainably. If we don’t try to rebuild, at least enough to get the world moving again, then we’re sentencing ourselves to a boring and decrepit eternity in a world we will all see die within our immortal lifetimes.”

Everyone at the table was nodding. They looked determined. United. Almost...they held an expression that Jon just couldn’t name. An emotion he didn’t understand.

He had seen it in Daisy, once. She had called it hope. He hadn’t understood back then. He still didn’t. 

“Liar,” Jon said, as his minigame timed out and the game over music tinkled across the tinny speakers. 

Annabelle looked at him, expression inscrutable. “These problems are legitimate, Archivist. The writing’s clearly on the wall, and -”

“You’re all so stupid,” Jon complained, and Annabelle abruptly stopped talking to glare at him. Whatever. Jon had lost all patience. He closed his DS and dropped it on the table, resigning himself to talking. Jon hated public speaking, especially in front of so many people he didn’t know and, frankly, creeped him out. “You can’t build anything in this world. If you try to impose a cute little government then it’ll break down into cannibalism or something.”

“Would you know, Archivist?” Jared asked evenly. 

“Jonah didn’t enact this world through myself for living,” Jon said, bored, and everybody stared at him with wide eyes. “We created it for suffering. Suffering isn’t living.”

“One might say the opposite,” the Vast man said, somehow twinkingly. “Suffering is an unavoidable side effect of living, isn’t it?”

“Is that philosophy? I don’t understand philosophy.” Jon wasn’t very good with anything that required extensive and complex thought. Which made sense - Jonah hadn’t exactly created him to think. “Humanity has clouded your minds. Makes all of you irrational and sentimental. Release your attachment to the old world. Just accept the way things are now.” Jon shrugged. “It’s not as if you can do anything about it.”

“Nobody in this room is exactly human, Jon,” Oliver pointed out placidly. 

Jon snorted. “Wanting free porn back? You’re all dripping with it.” It was honestly a little sad. “The only ones in this world free of that weakness are Jonah and I. And he’s the only one who could do any of this.”

“Then where is he?” the Desolation woman snapped. She leaned forward, hands gripping the table in anger. The teenager watched her anxiously. “Why doesn’t he come on down from his high tower and explain what’s going on? We’re in the fucking dark here!”

“I’m sorry,” Jon said coldly, “who are you?”

He rubbed his bad hand. For some reason, everybody watched him do so. He stopped, self-conscious. 

“Prejudiced remarks aside,” Manuela said. She had been hostile all day, but she now spoke cautiously. “Jonah Magnus needs to take responsibility for this. We don’t even know how the world ended.”

Several people glanced at Annabelle, whose lips thinned. “I shouldn’t say.”

Of course she knew. And of course she wasn’t about to tell him. Whatever. Jon didn’t care. Past was the past. 

He found his hand clenching. There was a strange tension in his throat. He didn’t care. He didn’t. Rehashing the worst pain he had ever felt in his life, even now, wasn’t really worth the time or energy. He didn’t care.

“No use crying over spilled milk,” the Vast guy said lightly. “But it is a relevant question. Jonah frequently spoke of his plans, and I realize now that he had never truly shown all of his cards. But he had always held an intention to...well, rule. It’s only in this moment of his victory that he shows no interest.”

“Jonah’s busy,” Jon snapped. “Trust me, you don’t want that arse around. He never even gives me directions, and I’m his right hand.”

“Or his puppet,” Sarah Baldwin muttered. 

It was fair. Probably even true. So why did an intense and burning fury shoot through Jon?

“What gives this child the right to dictate us?” Wakely demanded. Jon’s hands clenched on the table until his knuckles turned white. “What gives Jonah Magnus the right to rule us?”

“He’s not much of a ruler,” Amherst grunted. “My vote’s that we rule this world in a council.”

“Administration is important,” Annabelle said, impossibly terse, “but unless anyone here actually has the means to seize control, then there’s no use voting on it.”

“There’s only one Avatar here who has those means,” Manuela said darkly, crossing her arms and looking straight at Jon. “So why doesn’t he do anything?”

They were feeding on each other. They wouldn’t have said these - these treasonous things by themselves. But when one person spoke up, the next felt empowered, and they felt as if they outnumbered him. Jonah Magnus was hardly there to press him into obedience - why buckle under his oppressive gaze? What could he do?

The stupidest people in this world all gathered in one room. It took a special level of arrogance, pride, and stupidity to assume that one was more powerful than Jonah Magnus.

“I’m not in charge of anything,” Jon said tersely. “I don’t even have a domain. I’m just trying to live my life.”

The Desolation woman snorted. “Typical. You’re rolling over for Jonah.”

Jon’s eyes widened - not in surprise, but in anger. 

The teenager seemed a little uncomfortable. “Jude,” she hissed, “I don’t think -”

“Jude,” Jon breathed. “So that’s your name.” 

He was standing up. Jon didn’t remember standing up. Everybody was leaning away, their own eyes wide. Some just looked confused, slightly perturbed - Wakely, Amherst. Others looked ready to bolt - Manuela, the old man from the Vast. Jon knew, in a flash of insight that grew hotter and hotter, that he preferred to be called Simon. 

“Sit down, Jon,” Annabelle said, as authoritative and no-nonsense as ever. Normally he’d listen to her, respecting that she usually knew what was going on far better than he ever did. But the words barely reached him, drowned out by the rushing in his ears. “Look, we can talk about this rationally, alright?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jude said. She snorted, burning red eyes never leaving Jon’s. “As if I’m scared of this baby prick.”

“Maybe we can move on from Jonah Magnus,” Simon said quickly. “A discussion of airspace rights, perhaps -”

“Jon,” Oliver said, voice creased in worry, “are you okay?”

“This is the all-powerful demigod you all warned me about?” Amherst said. He was dripping with condescension, just like - just like everyone else - “He’s little more than a child.”

“Guys!” the teenager’s voice rang through the room, close to scared. “The walls are melting!”

So they were. It was as if the stone and wood was made of wax, sent guttering by a sputtering candle. Wood and finish were already pooling on the floor, melting the rolling wheel of Jared’s chair and forcing him to jump up from it. 

“Jon!” Annabelle said sharply. “Don’t throw a tantr -”

The table cracked sharply. It was warping, twisting in on itself as if it was a wrung towel. Jon realized, too late to care, that his hair was rising. He knew his eyes were spinning, an eternal churning wheel. 

“Fuck this, meeting adjourned.” Manuela stood up sharply, pushing her chair back into a melting bubble. The floor was beginning to bubble and warp. “See you all next month.” 

“I’ll walk you out,” Simon said quickly, standing up too. 

“You have two minutes,” Jon said, voice heavy with static. “Don’t bother me about this shit again.”

The signal was clear enough. Jude rose from her chair, grabbing her teenager’s elbow and pushing her out the door. The others followed in their wake, expressions carefully neutral. It was useless: Jon could taste their fear, their trepidation. Even better: their anger, barely brindled fury, and disgust. 

They couldn’t do anything about it, Jon thought giddily. No matter how much they hated or were scared of him, they couldn’t do anything about it. Jon was powerful. Jon couldn’t be hurt. Jon couldn’t - 

Jon couldn’t reign this in. 

Before he knew it, the conference room was empty. Only two other people remained: Annabelle, expression as inscrutable as ever, and an uncomfortable Oliver. His hands were stuck in the pockets of his pea coat, and he was looking around with disaffected interest - as if he was standing in line at a Starbucks in rush hour instead of in the epicenter of a melting building.

Jon knew. The entire building was dissolving. It was teeming with humans, lost and trapped and defenseless. He didn’t want to kill them. Jon didn’t like hurting people. He heard a voice speak in his head, foreign and familiar. Bring it in, Jon. 

But he couldn’t. His hair would fall back around his shoulders, and the static rushing through his ears just wouldn’t abate. It felt like everything was pouring out of him, a relentless faucet that wouldn’t stop churning out thick streams of putrid water. 

Jon fisted his hands in his hair, groaning. “Where’s -”

“She’s at your flat,” Annabelle said calmly. “Do you want me to get her?”

No. No, this was too embarrassing. He was an adult, he could handle this. Jon groaned again and sank into his seat, saved from the toxic waste of glass and brick. “No. Focus on getting the humans out of here.”

“What do you care?” Oliver asked, vaguely curious. “You don’t seem that fond of humanity.”

“Just do it!” Jon snapped, instead of admitting that he didn’t know either.

Eventually, the room stopped melting. Jon didn’t even want to think about how difficult it would be to leave the building. He could probably straighten out the hallways just enough to help Annabelle and Oliver get out.

Ugh. This place had sunk straight into Helen’s domain. He could taste it in the air: any future human who wandered in would be stuck in an endless spiral of twisted, melted hallways. Probably flavored with...powerlessness and fear. Feeling very small, as someone very large loomed down on you. Tories. 

At least he hadn’t sucked flattened the building into one plane again, robbing it of all spiritual and metaphysical dimensions. Jon had done that to a graveyard once. The place was putrid now. He had accidentally fallen into a grave and panicked and - anyway. 

He rested his forehead on the warped and splintered conference table, waiting for his throat to open back up and the rushing in his ears to die down. Finally, after what felt like forever, his hair floated back down and he felt his eyes resume their normal shape. 

Awkward silence loomed. Jon sighed. “Sorry.”

“I worked hard to arrange this, you know,” Annabelle said.

“Yeah.”

“I am not happy with you, Jon,” Annabelle said. 

“Sorry,” Jon said miserably. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I mean,” Oliver said, after a beat, “that’s kind of terrifying. That you can melt a building on accident. Like, what would happen if you got really pissed at Manchester or something?”

“Goodbye, Manchester,” Annabelle muttered. 

Jon lifted his head, glaring blearily at Oliver. “If you think that’s crazy, you should have been there the one time I opened up an extradimensional gate and unleashed nightmare terrors into the world, rendering all of humanity immortal and eternally trapped in endless infernal hellscapes.”

Oliver shrugged, conceding the point. 

But Annabelle just looked thoughtful. Probably reworking five billion plans, knowing her. Jon didn’t want to know, because he didn’t care. Let her do whatever she wanted. None of his business. Hopefully, after this disaster, she’d keep it out of his business. 

Finally, she asked, “Was that true? That there’s no moving us forward?”

Jon sighed. He really didn’t want to talk about this anymore. But if he didn’t tell her then she’d just bug him about it later, or find some way to get the information out of him that would be both convoluted and unpleasant. “I’m not saying that people can’t...live their lives. They’re obviously still going to work and typing in every digit of pi into their spreadsheets for eight hours and then going home to stare, hypnotized, into cable television. But I am saying that there’s no achieving more than that. There’s no going backwards, and there’s no going forwards. The past is closed to us, and so is the future.” He eyed her warily. “If you have any cute time travel ideas, forget it.”

“I would never,” Annabelle said innocently. 

Yeah, sure. Liar. Jon scowled. “You’re all hampered by your humanity.” When Oliver opened his mouth, Jon just shook his head. “Even Avatars are still people. We’re all conduits for eldritch Forces, hollowed out to serve as a live wire for their power, but we - you all remember a human life. You care about things. You have relationships. You love. It makes you weak. Some of you don’t even like your lot in life - some part of you aching for something familiar, when you felt genuine happiness instead of the cheap facsimile induced by causing pain.” Jon looked down at his hands, reflexively picking at one of his many scars. “You should be more like me. You’d be more focused.”

“Are you capable of...changing, Jon?” Oliver asked curiously. “Or will you be this way forever?”

“Most of Annabelle’s plans hinge on that not happening,” Jon said, not even aware it was true until he said it, “so I suppose we’ll find out.”

Of course, Jon knew what Oliver had tactfully not said. He had wanted to know if Jon would ever grow up. They all thought he was a child, even Annabelle. Jon had the feeling even Daisy did, sometimes. 

It was stupid and they were wrong. Child would imply adult, would imply birthday parties and learning to talk and learning geography. Jon didn’t have to learn geography. He knew geography. He didn’t age. He was born being able to talk. Jon was above all of these things. He was mature. And even if he wasn’t, who cared?

But Annabelle just smiled at Jon, a polite mask. Annabelle hadn’t made a genuine facial expression in - well, longer than Jon’s memory. Or maybe that was the wrong way to put it. Maybe it was more accurate that she never expressed an emotion that she didn’t mean to. “Well! That wasn’t entirely a disaster, was it? I think next time could go really well. Don’t worry, Jon, I won’t drag you out of bed again.” She propped her hands on her hips. “Now, the three of us are going back to your flat and doing something about your awful rat’s nest.”

Oh, lord. This was going to be terrible. “Do we have to?” Jon whined. 

Annabelle smiled again, but this time it was so dangerous that Jon couldn’t help but quail. “My spiders are collecting the avocado oil and coconut oil now. My best friend in secondary had 3C hair too, I think I know what to do. Oliver, bring the buzzer, scissors, and satin wraps.”

“Three cee?” Jon asked, confused. “What’s that?”

Oliver grimaced. “Why am I involved in this?”

“Because I don’t know what to do with a guy’s hair, and you’re probably the only guy I’ve ever met who knows what to do with hair? Keep up.”

“I’m feeling pigeonholed, but fine. But we are not buzzing that hair. It’s a crime against god.” Oliver looked thoughtful for a second. “I think Jon would do a nice, loose afro. I think I still have some hair masks and vinegar rinse -”

“Why is this so complicated?” Jon asked, completely freaked out. “What are these things?”

But Annabelle just smiled sweetly at him, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Jon. I’ll teach you what you need to know.”

Well. It seemed easier than figuring things out for himself. Jon didn’t like responsibility. Today was his first taste of responsibility in ages, and he had already decided that it sucked. Better to let somebody who actually cared take care of it. 

That way, he didn’t have to be powerful. Didn’t have to be anybody’s demigod on Earth, capable of murdering whoever he liked. He could just be Jon, Private Detective, Archivist. He could have fun. Just live. Didn’t he deserve that, despite everything?

He stood up too, summoning a shaky smile for Annabelle. “So you aren’t mad about me ruining your meeting, then?”

“Water under the bridge,” Annabelle said. “Now come on, we have to stop by the chemist’s and pick up a decent hairbrush.”

Hairbrush? What was that for?

****

Six months after time resumed its course

Jon opened his mailbox, only to find mail.

Suspicion immediately loomed. Jon didn’t get mail. Not due to any kind of impossibility, but just because he didn’t pay bills and none of the mimic junk mail was brave enough to try their luck with him. Maybe invoices, sometimes, but mostly those were dropped off in person. The invoices were scarier than the finger-biting mimics: he still didn’t quite know how they worked. Sasha kept insisting they were important, but Sasha also insisted face masks were important. She didn’t know everything. That was Jon’s job.

He grabbed the singular envelope anyway, elbowing his door back open as he inspected the envelope. Thick, rich, and creamy, it reminded Jon uncomfortably of Annabelle’s party invite from a while ago. In the front, he saw that it was addressed to...Agnes?

The living room was noisy and busy, entirely due to the recipient of the letter and her brother. They were playing Mario Kart on the Wii, and apparently disowning each other. Jon watched Agnes hit Gerry with a blue shell, slightly bemused, and saw Dry Bones spin out into the center and make a pitiful noise. Baby Peach loomed supreme. 

Jon almost felt bad interrupting. An opened bag of chips scattered dust around Gerry, and Agnes had a half-empty pack of uncooked hot dogs next to her. They had both been at this for a while. “Agnes, you got a letter. And try to keep it down, Sasha’s working and Daisy’s sleeping.”

Agnes turned around, half a hot dog hanging out of her mouth like a cigar. She swallowed it quickly, holding out one hand and letting Jon give her the letter. She frowned down at the front, ignoring the way Gerry craned his head to take a look, and when she checked the back she frowned deeper. There was a wax seal, its details out of sight to Jon. 

“Is it that time already?” Agnes muttered, putting her controller down and letting the parade lap on the screen continue. 

Gerry frowned too as Agnes carefully broke the seal. “Is that from…?”

“Yeah. Weird, though. Guess it’s about time for the follow-up to the emergency meeting.” She pulled a letter out of the envelope, embossed on creamy paper. She scanned it quickly. “Downing street this time…”

“Are you going to go?”

“Well, it’s not as if Jude can,” Agnes said diplomatically, refolding the paper. 

Jon cleared his throat, making the kids jump. They had half-forgotten he was there. Far too late, Agnes hid the invite behind her back. “Care to explain?”

“Oh, you know,” Agnes said vaguely, casually tossing the invite behind her shoulder and letting Gerry snatch it out of midair. “It’s the invite to the Avatar council meetings. I think they’re held once every three months, but since months are a theoretical concept it’s occasionally hard to tell..”

“Not these days,” Gerry said excitedly. “It’s cold! The leaves fell!”

“The leaf thing is dope,” Agnes agreed. “Anyway, I should go. I have, like, serious words. I already submitted ten motions. I want to run for Treasurer, but Jared keeps saying that anybody who isn’t old enough to open her own bank account shouldn’t be treasurer.”

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Jon asked blankly. Was this some kind of youth league? Baseball? Was this baseball?

Abruptly, Agnes looked very sketchy. “I...it’s really nothing you’d be interested in.”

“I am interested in everything,” Jon said. He was offended beyond all belief. “Don’t keep secrets!”

“Jon’s not a big fan of secrets,” Gerry stage-whispered. “Did Annabelle say that we shouldn’t tell him or did she just say not to bother him about it?”

Agnes abruptly started sweating wax. “I can’t remember.”

“Now you have to tell me,” Jon said flatly. 

They gave up very quickly. Teenagers loved hiding things, but they also loved drama and spilling secrets. “It’s the Avatar council meeting thing,” Gerry said eagerly. “You know, where you guys all get together and re-enact the British empire by making government decisions and imposing made-up laws on the people you’ve conquered and are currently subjugating under your big stompy boots?”

“I’m changing the system from the inside,” Agnes said proudly. 

Gerry shot her an unimpressed look. “Okay. Yeah. Sure. Because that’s a thing that makes sense in an inherently corrupt system with an inherently unethical existence that exists to be profitable at the expense of the marginalized.”

“I don’t understand anything children these days even talk about,” Jon said. 

“I’m surprised you don’t remember it,” Agnes said to Jon. But she had a strange expression on her face, one hard to decipher. “It’s where we met.”

Jon stared at her blankly. “I don’t remember talking to you.”

“I was sitting next to Jude?” Agnes hinted. “Teenager? Red hair?”

Wait. Jon snapped his fingers. “Annabelle’s idiot thing! Right! Right, of course, Oliver made me sit still for five hours afterwards, it was insufferable.” 

Wait. Jon abruptly remembered the rest of that day. It seemed like so long ago, even though it was probably objectively only about three years. It must have been about...yes, a few months after Daisy had gotten stuck...

He barely remembered those tepid and awful months. He had been on a bit of a hair trigger back then. It had been really tough, with Daisy leaving and his terrifying encounter with Jonah. He remembered everybody had been annoying and mean and made him feel bad…

“First time I ever remember feeling fear, honestly,” Agnes said to Gerry. “Scariest moment of my life. Remember when we first met Jon? All I could think about was that he was going to melt us like he melted that building.”

Hot shame flared in Jon’s gut. Right. Other people were real, and existed, and were probably more important than his...what had he even been upset about? He didn’t remember. 

He melted a building and he didn’t even remember why. 

“I’m going too,” Jon said, and both kids startled. “I’m coming with you.”

Agnes and Gerry stared at each other with wide eyes. 

“Uh,” Agnes said finally, hesitant, “there’s about a 50/50 chance Annabelle said not to tell you about this, and you definitely didn’t get an invite, so statistically you probably aren’t -”

“She can’t exactly stop me from coming,” Jon said, and both kids quieted. 

Power-tripping had lost all appeal for Jon - assuming role as a conduit for global and absolute power did that to you - but he couldn’t deny it was useful sometimes. The world probably could have stood a little more power-tripping from him, actually. At least, it would have been helpful if he had ever done anything helpful with it. But he had never really bothered. 

But Agnes still looked perturbed, almost worried. “Annabelle’s like one of two people you used to ever listen to, so if you don’t really care what she thinks anymore -”

“I think Annnabelle knows better than to complain these days,” Jon said. 

It probably was for the best that Jon didn’t listen much to Annabelle anymore. 

****

Jon hadn’t really told the others about Annabelle’s worse-than-murder attempt. 

It didn’t really seem like any of their business, and he had spinned a vague explanation of how the situation happened. He didn’t lie, just - withheld information.

For the first time, the truth didn’t seem so important. He had the feeling it would have just upset them. It wasn’t as if he would take revenge against Annabelle. The world needed her, and Jon was a little tired of murdering everyone who upset him. The others (Daisy) would insist on the little murder attempts if they knew, but that was probably part of why he didn’t tell them. If they never knew about the one unselfish thing he had done in his life - well, one unselfish thing didn’t make up for three years of selfishness, so there was very little point.

Martin suspected. Actually, Martin seemed to know, which terrified Jon slightly. It was impossible to get anything past Martin. Jon was deeply intimidated by the man. Sasha laughed very long and hard when he told her that, for unknown reasons. 

Besides, it wasn’t as if he felt betrayed. Even if the last time he had attended one of Annabelle’s little council meetings he still trusted her, that had faded quickly in favor of complete apathy. Even then, as young as he was, he had never expected the truth from her. Just friendship. Whatever she was doing, it probably wouldn’t affect him, so there was no use in worrying. Even if Annabelle slightly terrorized every other person in the United Kingdom - well, Jon was fine, so what did it matter.

Jon couldn’t decide if he was stupid or naive. Or, even worse - if he was just lazy. 

Jon didn’t listen to Annabelle anymore. 

Unfortunately, he still listened to Sasha James. 

Two weeks later, the date of the actual meeting, Jon was stuck explaining himself to his entire house, who doubted all of his decisions. Which was just unfair. Jon made good decisions! He had made tons of good decisions, like -

Anyway!

“I think it’s a great idea,” Sasha said, freaking out Jon. “Displaying interest in your local government’s fantastic! Did you do any research on the relevant issues?”

Jon, in the middle of pulling on his trenchcoat, started sweating. “I was just planning on showing up.”

Agnes, who was wearing a gauzy skirt and blouse as Daisy helped a whining Gerry with his court buttons, gave Sasha the thumbs up. “I’m going to propose motions and Jon’s going to say ‘yeah what she said’ and it’ll be great.”

Jon let Agnes believe that.

“Well, you’ll have to share Jon’s political weight,” Sasha said cheerfully. She was in sweatpants and one of Jon’s pilfered t-shirts again. She had recently designated herself a writer, and had joined some sort of recent artist and activist collective where they did mysterious things that Jon didn’t understand. There’s a zine involved? Jon didn’t know what a zine was and he was scared to ask.

Georgie and Melanie had spent a week teaching Jon in laborious detail what exactly the internet was - information Jon could have just downloaded, but they had been intent in their mission of creating ‘the perfect internet’ and had gone through great effort in teaching him what the ‘good’ internet was (Ravelry, Spotify, r/HobbyDrama, YouTubers but only a very specific list) and what the ‘bad’ internet was (social media, the rest of Reddit, every other YouTuber). Jon wasn’t sure if the new internet was to their specifications, and he hadn’t quite been able to avoid parts of it spiralling into nightmare dimensions and hellish breeding grounds for violence and trauma, but Melanie assured him that Twitter had always been like that. 

Jon also secretly added a nightmare filter to Melanie’s screen reader, after he made sure every inch of it was accessible, after he roughly recreated screen readers. Melanie said that the voice sounded uncannily like the aunt she had hated, but that it was no big deal. 

Anyway, Sasha was a blogger now. After a few meltdowns to Sasha’s computer he had to install a nightmare filter for her too, which made her complain about feeling like an old woman whose grandson had to install AdBlock on her browser. Jon was a little scared of the whole blogging thing, but everybody seemed much happier, so maybe that was the important thing.

“Wait,” Jon said, finally recognizing what Sasha said. “Share with who?”

There was a knock on the door. Jon felt intense fear.

“She’s here!” Sasha said cheerfully. “Come in!”

Jon watched in horror as Basira Hussain casually strode into her house. He knew he couldn’t stop her. She had a key to the place, because Jon had no control of his life. 

“Hey honey,” Basira said, intimately. 

“Hey honey,” Daisy said lovingly, releasing Gerry from her clutches.

They stared at each other, as if this was any kind of greeting whatsoever, before ignoring each other. Jon did not understand so many things. 

Basira, terrifyingly, was dressed like she was about to go defend her client in court. She had a briefcase, and Jon recognized her most important looking crimson hijab. Very abruptly, Jon had a flashback to the way Annabelle had dressed when she had picked him up in his old office. They even had the same expression: determined and resolute, in a way that Jon could never understand. 

Basira nodded at Jon. “Hey. Sasha invited me to this thing. She told you I was coming, right.”

“She did not.”

“Whatever. Are we going to get going? We’re going to be late.”

Jon looked at Sasha pleadingly. Cold and resolute stone, Sasha showed no mercy. She smiled brightly, giving Agnes a final hug and pushing her forward. “You kids have a great time! Terrorize the bourgeoisie!”

“I am the bourgeoisie,” Jon said blankly, but the situation had already spiraled out of his control. Agnes and Basira were already comparing lists of notes, seriously discussing the motions Agnes had raised and how she was going to help Basira. 

That was it – how Agnes could help Basira. How Agnes, and the role she had in the council hall, could help Basira and the people Jon knew that she intended on representing today. 

They hadn’t even looped him in. Had they assumed that he wouldn’t care? That he wouldn’t help? Agnes hadn’t even wanted him there. Only Sasha -

He felt a cool, small hand grab his arm, and he turned around to see Daisy. Gerry was already enthusiastically capturing Sasha about the concert he and Agnes were going to later, and Jon knew that they weren’t listening. Daisy’s expression was somber, her body tense. Daisy wasn’t one for facial expressions at the best of times – not even a new development – but something about this…

“I should go with you,” Daisy said. 

“I already told you no,” Jon said, miffed. “I can handle this by myself.”

“I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself last time,” Daisy said. Jon could admit that things probably wouldn’t have spiraled out of control if she had been there, but that didn’t mean – “Don’t terrify yourself just because you feel guilty.”

Daisy hadn’t aged any more than the rest of the world had. As an Avatar, she likely never would. She even looked young for her mid-forties, with her short stature and broad, unlined face. Sasha had assured him that she was ‘Kristen Bell-ish’, whatever that meant. But she always seemed so old to him: larger than life and not even reaching his shoulders. Wise and world-weary even when, as Jon was beginning to see, she didn’t know what she was doing any more than the rest of them did. 

It scared Jon, almost: if Daisy wasn’t the person who could swoop in and make it all better, then who could? 

If Jonah wasn’t the omnipresent god, then who was the most powerful person in the world?

Jon shook her off, fighting the pull in his gut. “I’m not scared of them anymore.”

She didn’t look impressed. “You’re always scared.”

“Look at the time, going to be late, gotta go!” 

He still couldn’t win an argument against her. 

They took a taxi there, as Jon had cheerfully informed them that the Tube was delayed due to infernal leaves on the line (Work-from-home was the hot new thing these days). Basira was clearly on edge, tense and constantly keeping an eye on the taxi driver (a friendly skeleton) and the street. Agnes wasn’t any more relaxed, reading her notes over and over. 

Jon leaned back in his plush seat, closing his eyes. What would Martin say? He would probably be cuttingly pointing out how Jon was in denial over how he really was secretly afraid of the Avatars and now it was even more dangerous because he was much more willing to power-trip. 

Forget about what Jon wanted. Forget about his fear, his insecurities, and every rationale he had constructed for himself as to why Jon deserved a life free of these worries.

Jon was above politics. The Avatar with no need to defend their territory, who held no fear of death or failure, had no need. Jon could not lose the affection of his patron. His domain was the world, and it could not be attacked no matter how hard he tried. Jon was not a politician, so of course that meant he could not be manipulated by politicians -

“What’s your plan,” Jon asked, without opening his eyes.

They told him. Basira was clinical; Agnes excited. Jon didn’t say anything about it, and let the conversation die down until the taxi was rolling in front of 10 Downing Street. Didn’t the prime minister live here? Boris...something? Jon quickly downloaded the information, before he found that Boris Johnson had been the world’s most convoluted psy-op by Annabelle and had never exactly existed. Thank goodness.

Right as the taxi idled in front of the building, Jon opened his eyes. He let them flare up, an intimidating spark of toxic green. “You two follow my lead.”

“Excuse me,” Basira said flatly, as Jon waved at the driver in lieu of payment. He hadn’t found out that you were supposed to pay taxi drivers until...a few months ago. In his defense, they never asked. “This is our operation.”

Jon glanced at her, and something relaxed around the corners of her eyes. He wondered if his expression was familiar to her. He couldn’t help but smile weakly, and that softened her expression even more. “Will you trust me?”

Basira stared at him for one long beat, then two, before grimacing. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“Do I usually make you regret it?” 

“Literally, every single time,” Basira said. 

“Then it’s a pretty stupid decision to trust me again,” Jon pointed out. “You don’t seem the type to make stupid decisions.”

Basira stared at him for a long moment, before leaving the car. 

Jon and Agnes silently watched her leave, before glancing at each other. 

“And I thought you ran from your feelings,” Agnes said finally, before following her. 

Jon, left with nothing else to do, followed Agnes.

10 Downing Street, Jon quickly found, was just like every other pretentious old British home. With lots of grandiose rooms with furniture shoved into corners so everybody could appreciate the gold-plated tile, or sitting rooms with the most uncomfortable places to sit Jon had ever seen. Each wall hosted gigantic portraits of famous British figures, who were all so ugly that Agnes incinerated one for fun. Jon respected her choices: he had been wearing a stupid wig. 

Jon, unfortunately instinctively aware of the layout and history of this sordid place, led them through the halls. He opened his mouth, instinctively about to funnel a Statement regarding the decades of human suffering and imperialism, before forcing his mouth closed. Basira wouldn’t appreciate it. Besides, the Statements had been easier to ignore lately - like curious dogs nosing at his hands rather than insistent children demanding to be fed. 

Instead, he settled on casually updating them on the choice of location. “A year ago, this location wouldn’t have been safe for Basira at all. This building was a nightmare pit of despair.” He led them up the ridiculous flights of stairs watching carefully as Agnes jumped up them. Trick steps, you know. Basira proceeded far more cautiously. “It’s...no less a nightmare pit, but like the rest of London it’s now safe to navigate. I’d keep clear of the residential rooms, however. The Prime Minister and his family haven’t escaped their nightmares since the apocalypse, and they never will.”

Basira’s eyebrows skyrocketed up. “David Cameron’s stuck in hell? No surprise there. What’s he having a nightmare about?” 

“Well, there’s this pig, right, and you’ll never guess what he’s doing -”

“Never mind,” Basira said quickly. “Not interested.”

“I’m interested,” Agnes said. 

“I’d rather you weren’t.”

Jon, who also wished he didn’t know this information, quickly directed them towards the conference room.   

But he found himself stopping in front of the intricately carved oak double doors. The wrought golden handles were grimy and dull with dust, but Agnes and Basira did not hesitate to open the door and walk in. They didn’t hesitate; they weren’t frightened. Or, if they were, they didn’t let it stop them.

But Jon stopped. He felt like Annabelle, in that moment. Annabelle, standing in front of that conference room door so long ago, unable to admit that she felt any fear at all. 

She had been desperate. Jon saw that now. Only a desperate person would have ever concocted that plan against Jon. He was the sole person capable of murder in this world, and the sole person who was so vindictive and petty that he would kill anybody who said something that he didn’t like. 

Annabelle was arrogant. She thought herself the most intelligent person in every room. She was petty, manipulative, and power-hungry. She thought that the world was so broken that somebody had to fix it, and that she was the only one who could. She was desperate. 

Jon didn’t particularly want to do this. But Jon really, really had to grow up. 

Jon opened the door. 

It was a far cry from the nice, professional conference room in City Hall. The floor was some ugly light brown hardwood color, and the walls were tudor-like and panelled. Old man ribboned curtains, an intricate rug woven from human rights abuses, and a claw-foot long conference table with an array of chairs made up an incredibly ‘antique’ room. The British found ‘antique’ and ‘wealth signalling’ to be the same thing. It made for some very ugly buildings and very uncomfortable chairs.

 Nobody else had entered yet. Jon checked the time with his extradimensional psychic powers and realized that Sasha had hustled them out the door fifteen minutes earlier than necessary. She was so intelligent. 

Agnes was already moving to her uncomfortable seat, and Jon tapped Basira on the arm and silently pointed to the seat with the ‘EXTINCTION’ placard. She raised an eyebrow at him, but followed his direction. Maybe that was what her trust looked like. 

There was a placard stamped ‘BEHOLDING’ in big letters. Gone unoccupied since the last time Jon had been here. 

He ignored it, and sat down at the head of the table. Likely where Annabelle usually sat, as director of the meetings. Historically, where the leader of Britain had once sat and directed the affairs of the country.

Jon kicked up his heels on the polished antique wood, pulling up an episode of The Twilight Zone in his brain. He identified with Rod Serling. 

The other Avatars filtered in, one by one. All of their eyes widened when they saw Jon, but none of them said anything. Jon wondered what had filtered through the Avatar grapevine. They always knew all of the gossip on each other. It was impossible to miss the Earth’s paradigm shift, and Agnes mentioned that they had convened an emergency meeting on it. Doubtlessly, his name had come up. They likely knew he was the instigator. Who else could?

Annabelle was the fourth in, as fashionably on time as usual. She was the only one who stopped in her tracks when she saw Jon. A surprise, to a woman unused to surprises. Jon’s house didn’t have insect problems. 

Her eyes widened. Her jaw clenched. That was all it took. And Jon Knew, in the way that he Knew things, that she was wondering if this was when he finally killed her. 

She didn’t know why she was still alive. It was stressing her out. It was a move that made no sense - an unforeseen reaction. Jon was predictable. When Jon wasn’t predictable, and when Jon’s actions weren’t being very precisely controlled, then she was left with a vindictive and irreverent steam train on her hands. She hadn’t predicted his presence here. 

Jon was also sitting in her chair. Scuffing the wood. Leaning back in the chair, and definitely scuffing the floor too. 

He pointed to the chair at his right, with a placard that now read ‘WEB’. Annabelle sat down in it. Everybody noticed. 

Everybody also noticed Basira. She was receiving some glares, or some pointedly unwelcome expressions. But Basira’s glares and unwelcome expressions were more powerful than any demon could ever offer, and one by one each Avatar looked away in shame.

Only Oliver actually talked to him. Which made sense, as Oliver feared neither life nor death. When he walked in he was just as surprised to see Jon as everyone else, but he offered Jon a smile too. Jon smiled back, which made several of the other Avatars lean back.

“Hey, Archivist. I thought you hated these things.” 

“I do!” Jon said cheerfully. “I wasn’t even invited.”

Annabelle busied herself with her notes and agenda. 

As usual, Helen didn’t show up. Jon waited patiently for everybody to filter in. Sarah Baldwin didn’t show up either, and Jon searched for the information before realizing that he really didn’t want to know. He saw some other new faces, as well as some faintly familiar ones. It wasn’t that strange: no position of absolute power was forever. Where was that bloke Wakely?

Wait. He was the Avatar who had talked for too long about burying people alive at a party in a ridiculous skyscraper. He had upset Daisy. Jon had seen red and lost his temper. Jon had...tossed him over the side of the roof. Let him keep falling. Left him to waste away. He was probably gone now. 

The entire room had been at that party. Whoops. 

Now uncomfortably reminded that Jon had murdered two people at this table, that everybody was aware of that, and that Jon had completely forgotten about one of the semi-accidental murders because, in Sasha’s words, he was “a bit of a psychopath, what the hell”.

This distressed her, because apparently Jonathan Sims had always been a “sensitive boy” with a “tender heart”. Daisy had said that he was still a sensitive boy, just prone to power-tripping. Sasha said that this was also very consistent behavior. Martin said -

Martin said that Jonathan Sims had been a good person. And, more importantly, that Jonathan Sims had wanted to be a good person. That was one thing that Jon didn’t want to change. 

Who just buried people alive -

Jon waited until everyone was settled down. Nobody was chatting or talking to each other: just sitting silently, avoiding eye contact. 

He could see Annabelle preparing herself to say something. Better get this ball rolling, then.

“Jonah Magnus is dead.”

The silence suddenly became oppressive. 

Jon didn’t stop to savor the looks on their faces. That wasn’t the point. Enjoying this wasn’t the point. Jon had all the power he wanted and - and he didn’t want it at all. He hoped that nobody here would make him have to prove it. 

Jon did not want to melt anyone. He wasn’t going to melt anyone. Life had started feeling a little valuable lately. These people, the soulless demons surrounding him, weren’t any different than he was. Humans with delusions of grandeur. Infighting and power plays weren’t going to fix it. 

But Annabelle had been right, as she always was. Jon couldn’t keep ignoring this. If he could do something, he had to. Even if it was something he didn’t like doing. 

Or something he hated that he enjoyed doing. 

“Jonah Magnus is dead,” Jon repeated pleasantly. “The world has changed. These two events are related, of course.”

He didn’t elaborate. Jon didn’t lie, but he didn’t have to say everything. 

“The chains which bind this Earth have loosened,” Jon continued. He folded his hands over his stomach, relaxed and casual. “We now exist in the third age of life. I ask that you do not resist.

“The seasons have begun to change, our eternal placid summer ripening into fall and sinking into winter. Our world turns yet again. Babies are born, grow old, and die. The apocalypse as we’ve always known was rooted in its stagnancy. Life and growth has bloomed, and will continue to subsist. Change is once again thriving, and we must adapt with it.

“You’ve noticed that your power has weakened. You will have to fight harder than ever to maintain your food supplies. What was once a conquest is now a battleground. The playing field is far from even, but the enemy and harvest now have a fighting chance.” Jon smiled brightly. “Of course, I’m sure that this was all discussed during your emergency meeting. Great job with your repeated warfare attempts against humanity during the last six months, by the way. How’s that working out for us?”

Silence loomed. Of course, their repeated attempts to quash the new human uprising had not gone very well. At the end of the day, for every one Avatar there were thousands of humans. 

“You are no longer strong enough to allow these divides into factions,” Jon continued. “We must present a united front if we’re going to maintain the ground we have. We can’t continue on the way we have. And I’ve realized…” Jon glanced at Annabelle, catching her eye. “I’ve realized that I haven’t been helping the situation. There’s more I can do. That’s why Annabelle has handed over moderation of these meetings to me.”

Nobody looked impressed. 

He could see it: the way Jon had become an unpredictable, dangerous nuisance towards them. Almost everyone in this room would be much happier if Jon dropped dead. Nobody had really liked him because nobody had ever felt safe around him. Only Annabelle and Oliver - the person who had nothing to fear from him and the other person who did not feel fear - called themselves his friends. 

But they would have preferred it if Jon was hostile or dangerous. If he had even admitted his power. But Jon play-acted at harmlessness, unwilling and afraid to make enemies, and in that way he became a nuisance rather than an enemy. He couldn’t even pretend that it wasn’t on purpose. No matter how many Avatars brushed him off or ignored him, it was better than feeling their eyes on him. Or feeling the fear rich on their tongues. 

 “Also I invited a human to work with us on human affairs,” Jon said cheerfully. “Diversity hire! Any questions?”

There were a lot of questions. Basira didn’t look very pleased at his remark, either. 

Simon leaned forward first, pale and watery eyes intent for the first time. “What happened to Jonah Magnus?”

“Natural causes,” Jon said cheerfully. “Next?”

“What does this mean for us?” the Lukas matriarch said. Her eyes skittered away from him. “Are we in danger?”

Jon shrugged. “Only if you’re incompetent at feeding.”

“What caused this?” Manuela demanded. “The children are running wild, we can’t control them. We’ve lost a major food source.”

Jon scratched his temples. “What caused it...sustainability efforts.” He sobered abruptly. “You could never control the children, anyway. This is the generation of the apocalypse. You’ll find that very little frightens them now.”

“Does this have to do with those humans you’ve been running around with?” Jared asked, scratching his chin as Manuela’s expression contorted in rage. 

As usual, a frighteningly insightful observation from such a brute. “It is actually directly their fault!”

Everybody turned to look at Basira, who was completely unapologetic. She crossed her arms. “Don’t ask me. First I’m hearing about this too.”

“Did you kill Jonah Magnus?” Oliver asked, morbidly fascinated. “How?”

“We humans didn’t kill him. We showed up at the Panopticon to kill him, only to find Jon there and Jonah Magnus already dead.” Basira scowled as Jon and Annabelle glanced at each other. Jon subtly shook his head. Annabelle’s lips thinned. “It looked like he’d been dead for years.”

An unfamiliar young man with a thick mop of clumped black hair peered at Jon, expression contorted in grotesque interest. He was one of the Avatars who had been born in the Apocalypse, who were all recognizably weird. His name was - right, Geoff Anjou. Some French man who had made his mark in the Parisian Underground before moving to London and conquering his next terrain. A Parisian to the bone - or, a great deal of bones, as the case may be. So many bones. Jon had always meant to take Daisy to that wonderful little nightmare and let her run loose. Chase people through the tunnels. Munch bones. Perfect vacation. 

“So did the Archivist kill him?” Geoff asked, in the same way you would ask who won the World Cup. “Steal his Watcher’s Crown or whatever?”

“Are you the new queen bee?” a young woman asked Jon. The new Slaughter Avatar, Henrietta Something-or-another. A Cambridge legacy college student, Annabelle had intoned, and Jon had been afraid to inquire further. She was cyberbullying someone on her mobile, which seemed to be bleeding. “Cuz, like, you don’t seem qualified.”

“I did not kill Jonah Magnus,” Jon said, for the five hundreth time in the last six months. “And I’m uninterested in filling his shoes. That’s enough questions, I think.”

“Are you as weakened as the rest of us?” Amherst demanded. “Surely this destruction has affected you worst of all.”

“He probably ate Jonah Magnus,” Henrietta said. “The Archivist’s probably god now.”

Geoff snorted. “No way. He brought a human as back-up.”

“Why is there a human?” Another woman asked, with long brown hair and a broad face. Something about her was unquestionably severe, from her bulging muscles to her incredible height. Jon had never seen her before in his life. Her name was Julia Montauk. Something about her stank of life and undeath, same as Amherst. “We can’t exactly work with the prey, here.”

“I’m proposing an emergency motion,” Amherst said suddenly, shutting up the rapidly overlapping voices. “I vote that a leader is elected democratically. And that representatives are limited towards loyal patrons of the Forces.”

“I second that motion,” Geoff said immediately. “We can’t afford a chaotic uprising in our government right now -”

“This really isn’t a vote,” Jon said. 

“Isn’t this a democracy?” Henrietta asked, with the self-righteous assurance of a twenty year old. “We vote on things in a democracy. And leaders.”

“Annabelle was voted in last spring,” Julia agreed. “No reason to change things.”

Well. Basira said that she trusted him. He’d have to rely on that.

Jon pressed down. 

It felt just like that: pressing down. Reaching out a hand and squashing. Sometimes it was like ripping someone into shreds, and other times it was like plunging your hand into their chest and ripping out their heart. But this was just a press: a heavy static, bearing down over your shoulders like a ten ton weight. A sight so horrible that it was too eldritch to even look at. The realization that the hideous sight was you, and that it was all you would ever be.

Some - Geoff, Amherst - gasped, as if they were choking. Others - Lukas, Henrietta - gasped at their hearts, as if they were having heart attacks. Jon carefully kept it off Oliver, Annabelle, Basira, and Agnes. He couldn’t help but remember what she had said a few weeks ago, about being so frightened - 

But Basira winced anyway, clutching her temples, and Jon carefully released the static until the inhabitants of the room could breathe again. His eyes did not stop glowing, and Jon didn’t bother to turn off the light show. 

Jon put his feet down on the floor and rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward. As everyone shuddered and gasped, he spoke slowly and pointedly. “This is not a democracy. It never was. It is a monarchy, and the line of succession is clear.”

Annabelle’s eyes widened, and she abruptly clenched her fists before loosening them. An uncharacteristic show of emotion from her.

“This coalition has never been a democracy,” Jon said severely. “This is a house of lords. You are uninterested in representing any needs but your own, and I know Jared failed level eight government, but I’m sure all of you know that democracy represents elected officials. Nobody here has ever lived in a true democracy, and in your human fallibility you have recreated the only system you have ever known. The seats at this table are determined by power - all of you, the most powerful conduits for your Entity. I am the inevitable consequence of this system. I am your natural disaster. All of you bought me. Now you have me. And you are no longer powerful enough to make me leave.”

Agnes’ hand was covering her mouth. Jon dearly hoped Basira was holding onto that trust. He dearly hoped that he wasn’t speaking from anger. 

But he couldn’t stop. It boiled and bubbled. It was an anger and a powerlessness that had subjugated him for thirty two years of his life. It had served as the cloud hanging over his head for three more. 

“If you want someone to blame for the Archivist who now moderates this meeting,” Jon said, his voice the thin lid over this boiling pot of hurt and anger, “I now know their names. Jonah Magnus. Jude Perry. Nikola Orsinov. Twice. Breekon and Hope’s coffin. Peter Lukas. Jane Prentiss. Maxwell Raynor. A strategic book.” Jon tilted his head, having effectively made his point. There were others, but he had forgiven Daisy and Melanie a long time ago. And Jared had been polite about it. “Bring up your complaints with them. Good luck with that.”

Jon clapped his hands, closing the lid on those memories. Maybe one day the pain would leech from them like a sun-bleached painting, but that day hadn’t come yet. “Now! If you have any further complaints about my position here, or if you want to continue debating political theory, feel free to stand up and tell me so. We’re all interested in you regurgitating your life story until you die. Anyone?” Crickets. Jon leaned back in his chair, making himself comfortable. “Can we go onto the motions now? Ms. Hussain first, then clockwise from her.”

As if they had planned this, with the air of a well-choreographed actress, Basira stood up and spread out her papers in front of her. “The human contingency requests neutral zones in essential areas. Maternal wards in hospitals are highly vulnerable locations, and when assaulted by parasites the mortality rate of children is very high. If you want a self-replenishing food source, you have to allocate space for safe living. The next essential zone is a daycare and a school for children -”

And she was off. Jon had nothing to say, nor was anything necessary. Raging debate sparked after she finished speaking, and Basira effectively crushed the opposition. Agnes spoke up in her defense, and to Jon’s surprise even Manuela contributed a solid understanding of the necessity of children. When the debate started spiraling in an unhelpful direction Jon cut in and shut it down, before forcing the vote. 

It did not pass, obviously. 

“By the way,” Jon said. “Ms. Hussain proposed five different motions today. At least two of them have to pass. This debate is about picking which two you want.”

Then that started up all over again, and Jon tried not to fall asleep.

Moderating was hard. He actually had to pay attention and focus, and he hated focusing. He was effective enough at shutting down conversations, but sometimes shutting down conversations wasn’t helpful - he just needed to steer them in a more productive conversation. And Agnes’ political theory and Basira’s almost-definitely-made-up statistics started flying so thick and fast above his head that Jon was starting to almost completely lose the plot.

Jon chose his moment as the Lukas woman was complaining extensively about how Henrietta’s digital bullying was intruding upon the Loneliness of her adherents. Henrietta had argued that social media made people more lonely. Jon was afraid that Henrietta was his fault. Maybe the Eye’s fault, holistically. Jared wanted to be friends with Henrietta and co-host Instagram events, which Jon enthusiastically supported despite Basira’s glares.

He leaned over to his right, gesturing slightly at Annabelle so she would lean in closer. She raised an eyebrow at him. Annabelle’s eyebrows were crushing. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Jon whispered to her, as quietly as possible. 

Annabelle mouthed very clearly at him, ‘Wow, really? Shock!’. 

“I was making a point,” Jon hissed. “An important point. But I don’t - I still -” Jon faltered, uncertain, as Henrietta began sneering something about Lukas’ hairdo. Finally, he weakly said, “You care. They need you.”

Annabelle stared at him for a long, silent moment, before turning away from him. 

For the first time that day, she spoke to the room. “Let’s keep ad hominem attacks out of this,” she said sharply. “Madame Lukas, if you’ll make your closing remarks we can bring this to a vote.”

She really was good at it. Just like she had always wanted. She had never directly admitted it, but Annabelle had always wanted to be the kind of person in rooms like this. 

A politician sitting in an uncomfortable chair at 10 Downing Street. Rich, successful, important. Powerful and respected. Back then, she had wanted to be famous. Now, she was content to be controlling famous people. A dream out of her reach in life; laughably attainable in this stagnant after-afterlife. 

The dream had crippled her. In her search for a functional world, one that achieved and grew and provided a comfortable world, she had ended up recreating a world that hadn’t been functional at all. A world that was slow to change, and seemingly impossible to improve. A world passed down from the hands of the greedy and bloodthirsty into the hands of the uncaring and apathetic. 

The apocalypse had been inevitable. Humans driving themselves to extinction. And Avatars, possessed of human weakness, had been eager to do the same. Just a pathetic room of sour and bitter people power-tripping. 

For all that Sasha calls us bougie, Jon thought, we’re such deeply unhappy people. 

There had once been a young man, desperate for attention and acknowledgement. Dreaming of importance. He would stay up late at night, planning out his life as a famous researcher and well-respected philosopher. Everyone would tell him how smart he was. He would prove it all - with a scholarship to Oxford, with a sneer and a haughty air, with a boss who said that he had so much promise, here’s a job that will let you realize your potential. 

I deserve this job -

Something in Jon’s mind flared, a hot poker rammed behind his eye sockets. Jon hissed, one hand reaching unconsciously to his temple, and Annabelle glanced at him in alarm. She had - Jon had been thinking about her, and - what had he been -

Together, they managed to wrangle the meeting into something half-way productive. Most importantly, Basira had gotten three of her proposals passed, and Agnes’ arguments were stirring the other Avatars into serious discussion. Conversation itself would be stilted by his sheer presence, and they weren’t quite all working together yet, but they would. 

It was really all the same to Jon if the Avatars or humans won the war. He should care a bit more than he did, so he didn’t vocalize this to the others. But this conflict sparked life, a strange and frantic energy. Experiences and growth. That was what Jon had always fed on.

It seemed that Jon’s skill at prioritizing himself over all others was as sharp as ever.

Eventually the two hours wrapped up, and the other Avatars were eager to leave. Jon waved them off cheerily. 

“Meeting adjourned. Try not to do anything stupid until next time. And if any of you break the boundaries of the human safe zones, I’ll know! Annabelle, will you stay behind?”

The others filtered out quickly, uncharacteristically unwilling to see whatever carnage would be wrought. Agnes and Basira lingered. 

“That went so well!” Agnes shouted, the minute the last Avatar left. The room was now empty save for Agnes, Basira, Annabelle, and - Oliver, who was leaning against the doorframe. “I can’t believe you actually did something useful!”

“Ouch,” Oliver said. 

It was fair, though. Jon smiled weakly at her. “Hopefully I can help out a little more often going forward. But I’m not going to give any favoritism to you, Agnes. I’ll intervene to give humans a fair shot, but I really don’t want to be...king of a ruined world or whatever.”

“I know,” Agnes said firmly. She reached out and squeezed his arm, round and gentle face creased in determination. “You’d be terrible at it. So just be you, okay?”

Jon saluted her, before gesturing to the door. “Will you steal a historical British artifact from this garbage building for me? Daisy needs more targets to shoot.”

Agnes nodded eagerly and ran off. Jon silently hoped Basira would follow her, if also out of interest for also seeing British things destroyed, but she just looked at Jon intensely instead. Not quite a glare - just a searching, intense look, as if she was finding her own Statement from deep within him. It had always been disconcerting. Jon was still convinced she hated him.

“It’s not as if I knew you very well before we rescued you from the Panopticon,” Basira said crisply, pressing a folder to her chest, “but you’ve changed. What happened? What did Annabelle have to do with it?”

Jon and Annabelle glanced at each other. Oliver lifted an eyebrow. 

“Basira -”

“Don’t ask me to trust you.”

“I didn’t betray that,” Jon asked, “did I?”

Her expression didn’t soften. “You didn’t. We’re going to continue needing your help. But an ally with inscrutable motivations who does everything on a whim is a bad ally to have.”

“I’m trying, Basira,” Jon said, impossibly exhausted and just a little disappointed. “Please be patient.”

“I’ve been patient for three years,” Basira said, before forcibly cutting herself short from whatever emotion she was about to display. “What happened?”

A phantom pain pieced Jon’s arms, like chains threaded through bone. Jon fought the urge to wince, unconsciously reaching up to rub at a spot on his forearm. Everyone noticed. “It’s...family business…”

“Did you kill Jonah Magnus?”

“Jonah Magnus killed me,” Jon snapped, far louder than he intended, “so he would have deserved it, wouldn’t he!”

He felt a little lightheaded, more than he intended. It felt like a hand was clenching inside his chest, more than he wanted. No, Basira is fragile, you can’t just - no, Agnes is a kid, Daisy said that we can’t -

“Basira Hussain,” Annabelle said, hands folded tightly in her lap, eyes serious and intent. Jon started, surprised to hear her speak again. “You should go catch up with Agnes.”

Basira stared at Annabelle for a long moment, lips thin, before she abruptly whirled on her heel and stalked out. Jon watched her go, exhausted. He waited for her heels to click down the hall, far away enough that he knew she wasn’t eavesdropping, before groaning and dropping his head down onto his desk. 

“They hate me.”

“They’re scared of you,” Annabelle pointed out. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Frankly, Basira could stand to be a little more afraid of you. She’s going to get herself in trouble one of these days.”

“She’s practically my sister in law, I’m not going to hurt her,” Jon snapped. “Your stupid plan relied on me never hurting people I love.”

 “Sorry,” Oliver said pleasantly, “is anyone ever going to tell me what’s going on? I feel like an NPC in Jon’s Dungeons & Dragons game.”

“You want to be an NPC, I found you working at Taco Bell.” God, whatever. Jon could tell Oliver. He wouldn’t give a shit. Jon sighed, lifting his head to twist around and look at Oliver instead. “You remember when I was asking around after Sasha James? Annabelle had put me up to it.”

“Obviously. And then Sasha James started following you around? You terrorized Annabelle’s party again?”

“Yeah, it was this whole big thing.” Jon waved a hand expressively. “Anyway, then Annabelle tried to trap me in an eternal limbo that would shred me from inside out so I could act as purveyor of the world, and probably also use her connection with me so she could take over affairs here, and probably either nudge me into shaping the world back into order or into sinking it deeper into hell. I broke out and now I’m mad at her.”

“I had at least twenty other reasons,” Annabelle said, “but that’s the gist.”

Oliver stared at them.

They all sat in awkward silence. Jon found himself winding a finger around a stray coil of  hair and letting it spring back into place. He had kept it the same the last three years, never bothering to change the style. A loose and bouncy cloud of hair, sometimes brushing against his shoulders until Annabelle kidnapped him to cut it again - him, as much as the trenchcoat was. So much as anything had ever been ‘him’. 

“Well,” Oliver said diplomatically, “I see that you skipped a lot of steps there. So why are you here, then?”

Was it just to spite Annabelle? Screw her out of her work? Did Jon genuinely care? Did he want to organize the other Avatars, get them mobilized and going? Did he want to protect the humans? 

Did he really only care about himself, and the people he called his friends and family? Did he really only care about himself, and those he possessed?

“There’s a person I want to be,” Jon said quietly, “but I don’t know how to be him.”

Annabelle stared at him, with dark and glittering eyes, expression as implacable as always. For a sudden, stupid, intense moment, Jon wanted to know if she cared about him. If one of the few people who had always helped him, who was always in his corner, had seen him as anything more than a tool. 

Like Basira, who didn’t like him as a person, but found him too valuable to alienate. But Basira was - she was deeply good, if not always kind, and Jon had the sense that she had fought to turn herself into that good person. It was something she chose. She was trying to push Jon into making that same choice. 

Jon clenched his hands in his lap, his fingernails digging into his palm. “There’s people I respect, and who I want to respect me. This person I want to be...I’m worried that I only want this because that’s what they want. They’ll deny it, but they want my power. Everybody just makes me into whoever they want. Whatever’s useful to them.” Jon’s gaze snapped to Annabelle, and he fought hard to keep the compulsion from his voice. It was difficult, when he wanted to know so badly, but - “The kind of person I used to be. That person I’m ashamed of. Is that the person who was useful to you?”

He didn’t want to force the answer from her. He wanted her to choose to say it. 

Annabelle didn’t react. She didn’t show anything on her face. Much less what Jon wanted from her. She just tilted her head, one of the few unafraid to meet his eyes. “I never made you be anyone, Jon. All I ever did was put you in the right place at the right time.”

“That wasn’t my question,” Jon said, and this time he couldn’t help the static creeping into his voice. “Answer me.”

Annabelle sighed. “Of course it was useful. Is that what you wanted me to voluntarily say, Jon? I didn’t bring you to the first meeting because I thought it would be educational for you. I needed your power to keep the others in line. I needed everyone else to see that I controlled your power. That’s the only reason why any of this worked. We both got something out of it. Don’t pretend that you weren’t happy with the arrangement.”

It...it wasn’t a surprise, but…

“So that’s why you didn’t bring him to any of the other meetings,” Oliver mused. “He wasn’t as controllable as you liked, not when there’s more than ten other idiots around needling him. There’s never been anybody who can always predict when Jon’s going to lose his shit. Besides the biggie, I guess.”

The biggie, which was his past. 

No wonder he had stayed so childlike, innocent, and cruel for so long. Jon took responsibility for his own laziness, but - but he had been most useful that way. Annabelle had liked him best that way.

Daisy had liked him best that way too. That cruel child - Daisy had wanted him, because he made her feel needed. Annabelle was just the same.

Everyone had liked him best that way. And if Jon became the kind of person who he wanted to be, nobody would like him at all.

“If you’re going to kill me,” Annabelle said, exhaustion seeping in through her voice, “just do it.”

Jon closed his eyes. He could feel it - Annabelle’s exhaustion, the way that she had just been waiting for him to do this. Everything she knew about Jon led towards an obvious course of action. Even though you nobody knew everything that set Jon off, certain things were pretty guaranteed that he wouldn’t forgive. 

Annabelle had never accounted for Sasha. She had brought Sasha into his life, and she had no idea the effect she would have on it. Sasha, who had been the first to tell Jon that she chose to care about him for him. For a brief, hot flash, Jon was jealous. He wanted to be someone unpredictably kind. 

If he only wanted that because he had found yet another person to give his wind-up key, then…

“You won, Annabelle,” Jon said finally, and he only knew it as he said it. “Congratulations. You played the perfect manipulation. You took a vulnerable, afraid man, who had been violated in the worst possible way and left to die.” He stood up, already uncomfortable with what he was about to say. “And you arranged him so that he loved you. I chose to love you. I’m making the choice never to hurt you, because I still love you. ”

He left the room. Oliver stood aside just in time, letting Jon brush by. 

As Jon met up with Agnes and Basira, summoning a smile and a wave for them, he felt uncomfortably as if he had grown up. 

He wasn’t sure that he liked it.

[gaeilgeoirgay]

SpideyTorch Week Day Three Alternate Universe

For Day Three, I chose an alternate universe in which our favourite couple are the villains! This one is a bit darker than usual, and there’s a mild instance of torture, that isn’t explicitly described near the end, so do watch out for that

Ao3 Link 

@spideytorchweek

 they don’t question our violence

“Hello, Spidey. Nice of you to swing by.” Comes a mocking voice from behind him. Peter almost swears, his Spidey Sense hadn’t even warned him, the traitor! Clearly it doesn’t think of Morning Star as a threat despite the fact Johnny has tried to kill him on several occasions. Maybe. To be fair, the Dock Incident was Peter’s fault and Morning Star hasn’t attempted murder in ten months, coinciding with the new depths of their relationship.

And it’s not like Peter is a complete angel either. The Wolf Spider is a name synonymous with death and blood- at least Morning Star tends to stick with arson. Peter is a mercenary, it’s not like he can judge his pyromaniac boyfriend.

“Hi, starlight. I have a job for us, and we get to explode the place afterwards.” Peter says, turning around to smile at Johnny, who perks up at the idea. He lets his flames fizzle out and lands next to Peter, who gratefully accepts the kiss he’s given. It’s freezing right now, and even the slightest bit of warmth makes a difference to Peter’s non-regulating self. There’s also the fact he’s kissing Johnny. That’s a big factor.

He turns fully around to kiss Johnny properly, taking care with his fangs so his venom doesn’t enter Johnny’s bloodstream. He rather likes his boyfriend and he doesn’t want to kill him. Johnny eventually pulls back to smile brightly at Peter.

“What’s the job, Fangs? I like the sound of it already.” He says. Peter beckons him up onto the vent protruding from the building they’re on, hopping up himself to swing his legs childishly. Johnny joins him, feet tapping impatiently.

“I met Remy Le Beau downtown a few days ago. He mentioned that there’ve been a few disappearances lately, mainly mutant children living on the streets that don’t appear on official records. I did some digging and it turns out there’s a lab set up in the Bronx that’s been experimenting on mutant kids.” Peter explains, scowling now. “Officially, it’s a gene lab where volunteers donate samples to be studied for cures to various diseases. There’s about twenty kids there now from what I can tell. Remy can’t blow it to hell himself without attracting attention to Xavier but if we free the kids and then happen to torch it, people won’t question our violence.” He finishes.

Johnny is frowning now too. “What excuse are we giving for the attack though?” He asks and Peter laughs. “That’s the best bit. We’re not giving an excuse, we’re telling everyone they were experimenting on children. Their encryptions are ridiculously bad and there’s already been a call for an inquiry into them by S.I. They’re subsidised by Oscorp and it’ll damage their stocks once it gets out that not only did they block the investigation, they funded the lab too.” He explains and Johnny grins.

“Two birds with one stone. Save the kids and piss off Green Goblin. I’m down.” He says and Peter stands. Johnny does too and Peter challenges him to a race across the city. They may be supervillains but they can still have fun.

The building is near deserted when they get there, other than a few dedicated workers and the overnight security guards. The employees aren’t aware of where their samples come from, only the top scientists know about the mutants and the security guards were never told they were guarding people instead of chemicals so they’ve agreed to leave them mostly alone.

Johnny silently melts a window on the top floor and they sneak into the building, avoiding the admittedly meagre defences.

 They soon find a bright red door labelled DANGER and according to the blueprints that Peter acquired, the kids should be behind it.

They crumple easily under Peter’s enhanced strength and Johnny groans at the display. “I love it when you break metal with your bare hands.” He whispers and Peter smothers a laugh. They step over the ruined doors to find the kids in chains.

“Oh I can’t wait to set this place on fire.” Johnny growls harshly and Peter shushes him. There’s a computer terminal by the door so he plugs in a device he built himself that will copy the information on the mainframe to his personal store while deleting every other existing copy. He’ll probably delete his own copy once he goes through it, but he’d prefer to know if some sort of power-killing virus was made before he gets hit with it. Probably by Ross, may he die in agony.

The two of them set to work on the chains, Peter snapping them and Johnny turning them to molten slag. The kids are utterly silent, even when the two villains are reassuring them softly and Peter vows to hunt down every last disgrace to science that was involved in the lab.

Finally, the last chain clatters to the floor and all the kids are free. Remy had promised them assistance from two X-men who would be able to get the kids out of the lab so Peter and Johnny could get to burning it down.

They herd the kids to the window they broke in through and are met by the dark form of Archangel. The mutant’s normally pure white wings are covered in dark metal to blend in with the night but he’s still gentle with the children and they seem a bit less scared to see someone who’s so obviously like them.

Peter watches one little girl with red, scaly wings looking in awe between herself and the hero and smiles. He glances at Johnny and a thought comes to him. He wants that. Him and Johnny, with a kid each, maybe one girl and one boy or two of the same gender.

Hmm. That’s something to consider later. For now, he watches Archangel fly the kids one-by-one to a nearby safehouse where Nightcrawler is waiting to bring the kids to Xavier’s mansion the next morning. They deserve a good nights rest before moving somewhere completely different to everything they’ve ever known.

Archangel returns after the last child has been delivered to Nightcrawler and perches on the windowsill, regarding Peter and Johnny with a slight measure of respect.

“I met Nightcrawler in a mutant fighting ring. Neither of us wanted to be there but we never got the chance to escape. I got hurt and Mystique spirited him away but we never knew what happened to the ring. These kids though, they’re not gonna have that.” He plucks a metal feather from the edge of his wings, the edges razor sharp.

“Hurt those monsters and hurt them well. Maybe some of the more sheltered mutants at home won’t understand but I do. Slit their throats with that and leave them to choke. It’s more than they deserve.” Archangel says solemnly, rage glinting in his eyes. Peter exchanges looks with Johnny and then grins.

“Maybe heroes can’t be caught torturing people but there’s a reason I walk the other side of the line. We won’t make it quick.” Peter promises and Archangel returns the smile. Peter has no doubt that any scientists he and Johnny fail to find will turn up with mysterious wounds soon enough.

Archangel flies off to join Nightcrawler and Wolf Spider and Morning Star stalk back into the labs. The head scientists have been staying in a penthouse apartment above the labs while they run their tests and that’s their destination.

The elevator lets them up after a few key strokes from the Spider and they emerge into a wide-open space, the complete opposite of the small room the kids had been chained in. There are doors off of the main room and the Spider quickly matches them up with what he found in their database.

The third door to the right should belong to Henry Lawson, the torturer in chief. Morning Star melts the lock and they slip into his room silently. The bastard is sleeping peacefully in his bed but it won’t be long before that changes.

Morning Star fingers the metal feather Archangel gave them and slowly starts to heat it up. It’s made of strong stuff and even though the metal is glowing red it’s not metal. It serves as a rude wake-up call when it’s pressed to Lawson’s jaw.

He squeals like a stuck pig and the Spider thanks God for soundproofing. They’re nowhere near done with Lawson just yet.

An hour later, Lawson is thoroughly deceased and they move onto their next target. All six die painfully and Wolf Spider takes a twisted pleasure in it. Still, they have a job to do and they can’t spend as much time on their other targets as they did on Lawson.

Johnny plants his favourite explosives and Peter carelessly pulls the fire alarm. They find a good vantage point on the building across from the lab and wait until the last heat signature leaves the building and emergency services are seconds from the scene to trigger the bombs.

Johnny floats in front of the lab for a few seconds before he unleashes a torrent of flames into the already-blazing building. It only feeds the raging fire and Peter knows it will take quite some time to put it out, Not his problem. He’s too busy planning their next hits on the scientists that hadn’t lived above the lab.

Johnny lands on the roof next to him with a sharp exhale and Peter drapes himself over his back. “Twelve people left on the list, starlight. I vote we eat, have a fantastic night in bed and then brutally murder them all. Their dirty secrets are set to be released to the public in four and a half hours, just in time for the news cycle.” Peter says, tracing letters on Johnny’s back.

“You give the best presents, my Spider. I can’t wait to hunt.” Morning Star replies.

[lunnanunna]

Matching Set

BTS Extra Member AU

Summary: Lexi and V go to get Lexi’s Christmas present for Jungkook.

Warnings: none

Taglist: @kimonmars @mythicalamphitrite​ @hyunmijung​ @atinygracie @xiaojunssmile​

A/N: Hope you enjoy!

Requests are open! Please let me know what you think.

“Come on, Oppa,” Lexi called out to Taehyung, grabbing his wrist and pulling him into the jewelry store.

“Lex, calm down. The place isn’t going anywhere,” Taehyung rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging on his lips as he watched Lexi make her way to the counter.

Lexi let go of Taehyung’s hand and smiled at the employee at the counter. “Hello,” Lexi greeted.

“Welcome. How can I help you?” the woman greeted, with kind eyes.

“I placed an order here a few weeks ago and was notified that it was all set to pick up,” Lexi said, pulling out her phone to show the woman the email that she had received that morning.

“Okay, and what is the name on the order?”

“Han Chaewon,” Lexi answered. She heard Taehyung snort behind her. Lexi turned to him, smacking his arm. “Shut up.” Whenever Lexi places orders for pick ups, she uses her Korean name. Since she never really uses it, no one ever connects her with it, making it easier to pick up orders without making a big deal.

“Let’s see,” the woman said, drawing Lexi’s attention. She typed in a few things on her computer then scrolled a little. “Ah, yes. Just a minute, please.”

“Of course,” Lexi smiled at the woman as she walked into the back of the store where Lexi assumed they kept the customized orders.

“So what did you get again? And it’s for Kookie, right?” Taehyung asked as he browsed the displays.

“I got us matching bracelets,” she answered as walked over to a display of diamond necklaces. There was one in particular that caught her eye.

Taehyung hummed as he stood on the opposite side of the case that Lexi was looking at. “Careful.”

“What?” Lexi asked, looking up at the older.

“Matching anythings’ can lead to rumors,” Taehyung said, eyes on a pair of earrings.

Lexi snorted. “Yeah, well there’s already rumors about me with all of you with how much I steal your guys’ clothes. And I also have a list of rumors with other idols and actors. What can you do?” she asked, shaking her head.

“Yeah, but matching jewelry is different,” Taehyung said, looking at Lexi.

“It’s a friendship bracelet. Everyone knows that Jungkook and I are best friends. We used to have a matching set when we were 17,” Lexi quirked a brow.

“Yeah, a homemade bead one. Lex that’s not the same,” Taehyung quirked his own brow, unimpressed with her reasoning.

Lexi rolled her eyes, gathering her hair in a claw clip. “Still a matching set, Oppa. Plus this one has a connection with ARMYs,” Lexi stated.

“Oh, really?” Taehyung asked skeptically. Lexi found herself rolling her eyes again. She had already had this conversation with Yoongi and Namjoon. By the end of it they were actually impressed and gave their approval of the gift. (As if Lexi needed their approval.)

“Here you go, Miss.” Lexi turned to find the woman back at the counter with a long indigo velvet box.

“Come and see,” Lexi said, motioning to the box. They both walked up to the counter and then the employee turned the box to face them and opened it up. 

Inside laid two silver bracelets. They were both chain linked and came together with a pair of mini gold handcuffs. The chain size for Jungkook’s was slightly larger due to him having a bigger a wrist, but other than that they were completely identical.

“They came out perfect,” Lexi grinned, picking up Jungkook’s bracelet.

“I’m glad you like them. I, myself, am fond of the simplicity of it,” the woman said.

Lexi smiled at her, “Sometimes simple is better.”

“It is nice, but where’s the ARMY connection?” Taehyung asked, leaning over Lexi’s shoulder to look at the bracelet.

“Here,” Lexi said, pointing at the little gold trapezoid charm at the center of the chain.

“I don’t get it,” Taehyung said.

Lexi rolled her eyes. “Here take this one,” she told him, handing him Jungkook’s bracelet, then  picking up her own. Lexi moved hers closer to Jungkook’s and the two charms on each bracelet came together forming the symbol for ARMY.

“Is that a magnet?” Taehyung asked, marveling at the way they connected.

“Yep,” Lexi said, nodding proudly.

“Okay, so it’s not so bad,” Taehyung sighed. He took Lexi’s bracelet, connecting and disconnecting them. “It definitely fits your guys’ style too.”

“It pays to have your best friend basically be your twin,” Lexi chuckled. She took the bracelets from Taehyung and then placed them back inside the box.

“I take it, everything is to your liking?” the employee asked.

“Yes. They’re perfect,” Lexi nodded. She followed after the woman and watched as she properly wrapped the box then waited to be rung up. “Could I also have that necklace over there?” Lexi added, pointing to the necklace that had caught her eye earlier.

“Of course,” the woman smiled. Lexi smiled as well as the woman walked over to grab the necklace.

“So did I pass the test?” Lexi turned to Taehyung who tilted his head back slightly to think.

“I suppose. As long as you two explain quickly before people start to get the wrong idea,” Taehyung said, giving her forehead a small flick.

Lexi glared at him. “Obviously. Christ almighty,” she grumbled, then smiled as the woman handed Lexi the bag with her necklace and bracelets.

“And how would you like to pay?”

“Card,” Lexi answered, pulling out her credit card and handing it to the woman.

Once she was all set, Lexi and Taehyung walked out of the store, pulling their masks back over their faces.

“Where to next?” Lexi asked, seeing as Taehyung seemed to have set place in mind.

“We passed by a really pretty Gucci jacket earlier,” he answered.

“Oh, I saw that one too,” Lexi said, linking arms with him.

“Then let’s go. After, we’ll grab something to eat,” Taehyung smiled, looking at Lexi.

“Beautiful plan,” she grinned.

Lexi’s Masterlist

[shreddies-scribbles]

Hermitcraft Stardew Valley Au

hopefully no ones done this already hahah

i didnt get around to everyone oof maybe one day 

some background under da break 

-Background- -Concorp is the Joja of this AU -Most people have lived in hermit town most of their lives -The hermits are just one big happy family :,) -Most hermits are based off characters in the game but moved around to suit them more!

-Characters-

Mumbo -Local electrician -Extremely shy at first -As you get to know him he opens up and you see his giddy side!! -spent sometime in the city to try and make a name for himself,,, which didn’t really go to plan,, Relationships -Grian (best friends, when they’re not working they like to explore the woods!!He knows it’s one of grians favourite things to do and doesn’t want to let him go into the woods by himself, who knows what’s out there!) -Iskall (friend, helps mumbo when he’s experimenting with new circuits) -Xisuma (childhood friends, X is the one who convinced mumbo to move back from the city to the valley)

Grian -Works part time in concorp -Only recently moved to the valley to get away from his past in the city -Is friendly to everyone but only considers a few people his good friends, has some trust issues -loves exploring the valley, he likes the difference from the busy city life Relationships -Mumbo (best friends, had known mumbo from his short time in the city, when he moved to the valley he felt mumbo was the only one he could trust) -Iskall (friend, mumbo has introduced the two, immediately got along as if they’d known each other their whole lives) -Scar (met the wizard on one of his adventures in the woods and kept pestering him until the wizard finally broke and showed him some magic)

Iskall -owns the general store, Sahara (calls it his mega store of doom) -knows all the towns gossip from “overhearing” conversations on his shop -everyone considers him the heart of the town, he can put anyone in a good mood with that contagious laugh!! -Doesn’t like concorp... wants to get grian to work for him instead to get him outa that corporate chain!! Relationships -Stress (Best friends, whenever they’re together they light up the room with laughter and good times B^) Iskall likes to visit her ranch and see the animals) -Mumbo (admires mumbo for his amazing wiring skills, a little jealous of mumbo, he gets to have the job iskall always wanted, but he won’t let that get in the way of their friendship) -Grian (from the minute grian moved into the valley iskall knew he wanted to befriend him, his gut told him he wouldn’t want to be on grians bad side) -Ren (used to be really close but drifted overtime)

Stress -Owns the ranch -mostly produces dairy products but has some chickens too -she doesn’t like being on her own, so she likes to surround herself with friends as much as she can Relationships -Iskall (best friends) -Doc (roommates, she’s renting out a spare room to Doc, she can see past his icy cold exterior and knows that deep down he does care about his friends) -Cleo and False (being so few girls in the valley they all stick together, they meet up at the end of each week to gossip about the boys)

Doc -Works full time at Concorp, absolutely hates it -was studying to be a scientist in the city, but when and experiment went wrong causing him to lose an arm he lost all motivation -he wanted an escape from the shame the city brought him and seeked a new life in the valley -renting a room from stress but is rarely there, most of his days start at work then bring him to the saloon -he wants more from life but doesn’t know where to start relationships -Ren (Best friends, they always crossed paths in the mornings until eventually doc decided to introduce himself, the two hit it off and now see the other a brother) -Stress (Roommates, get on better than you’d expect! doc admires her strength and power too pull through the hard times and come out on the better side) -Beef (Friends, when you spend most of your days in the saloon you get to know the bartender pretty well lol) -Etho and False (he loves hearing their story’s from the mines, he’d love to join in but is too scared to put himself into danger considering what happens last time he tried something risky)

Ren -Aspiring actor, he likes to write short story’s and get his friends to act them out with him -Twin brothers with renbob -He’s a bit full of himself but aren’t all actors ;) -but all of his talk of making it big time in the city someday he is front, behind all the boasting is a lot of doubt in his skills and as he gets older the more he puts off moving to the city to start his career Relationships -Doc ( Best friends, doc is the only one rens ever shared his worry’s with, but doc always supports his acting career and encourages him to take that leap and follow his dreams) -Renbob (twin brother although they couldn’t be more opposite, ren loves city life, keeping up on trends and success while renbob is all about being one with nature and doesn’t care about his appearance or how people see him -Iskall (used to be really close but drifted overtime)

Renbob -Works in the saloon with Beef -all about that hippie life -not really a major character but he’s there!! :D relationships -Ren (twin brother) -Beef (Boss, but they get along great)

Bdubs -Carpenter!! need a house built?? you’ve come to the right guy -very bubbly and eXTREMELY outgoing -has a very strict sleep schedule which leads to strict working hours to ensure all his works done for the day -when he first moved to the valley he set out on building a huge house with lots of spare rooms to have guests over or to rent out Relationships -Cub (Roommate, cubs renting out a room to do research on the local flora and fauna, they won’t really talk much but bdubs admires his brains) -Keralis -Etho ( Ethos guilds club house is near to his home and since they were so near each other they became good friends)

Etho -Owns the miners guild -expert at monster fighting, he has the highest number of kills in the whole guild! (there’s only one other member... but let him have this!!) -keeps to himself most of the time but wishes he was closer to more people Relationships -False (guild mates, he admires falses skill with a sword, he thought her everything she knows) -Bdubs (he kept starting conversations whenever etho saw him so they become good friends, it took etho a while to get used to his bubbly personality) -Beef (they have a mutual respect from etho being a regular at the saloon after a day of fighting in the mines) -Doc (they aren’t that close but doc likes to listen to his story’s from the mines)

Beef -Owns the saloon -a jolly guy who’s friends with just about everyone, he knows his regulars more than some people who’d only be at the saloon after a long day -an amazing cook, prepares all the meals by himself Relationships -Etho -Doc -Renbob (employee)

Scar -the wizard who lives deep in the woods -extremely isolated but longs for more friends but he knows it’s a dangerous idea considering how his last friendship turned out -spends most of his days brewing up be potions or researching new spells Relationships -Grian (tried to keep his distance but grian kept pushing to learn some magic, scar gave in and thought him a transportation spell) -Cub (former friend, scar had to remove cub from his life when he was using him for research)

Cub -A scientist from the city researching what the valley has to offer -reports back to concorp unbeknownst to the others -knows what he’s doing is wrong... :( and wants to change but doesn’t know where to start Relationships -Scar (former friend, when scar found out what cub was up to he banished him from his tower, cub feels awful and wants to fix this) -Bdubs (roommate, renting a room from him in the mountains)

Xisuma -the mayor -gets sick easily, why he always wears a mask -loves his town and community and will do everything he can to keep everyone afloat -tends to distance himself from everyone so he can keep up his image Relationships -Mumbo (childhood friends) -Keralis (wishes he didn’t get that job at concorp...it’s been changing him :( )

Cleo -aspiring artist, preferred method of art is sculpture -lives in a cottage in the woods to get inspiration for her art -holds art exhibitions in the museum when she’s low on funds Relationships -Joe (best friends, with joe also working in the arts they love to brainstorm ideas together) -Stress and False (girl time B^> )

False -Works part time in sahara with iskall -spends most of her time in the miners guild club house or in the mines -etho recruited her to join the guild after seeing her in action down in the mines -someday soon she’s going to outrank etho in terms of monster kills but etho won’t admit that ;) Relationships -Etho (mentor, thought her how to fight properly and protect herself in the mines) -Cleo and Stress -Doc (they aren’t that close but have a mutual respect for each other, they sit together in the saloon most nights with etho)

Joe -aspiring poet -writes beautiful poetry but always doubts his skills and never published most of them -lives in a small hut on the beach, the seas always been a huge inspiration to him -has a pet dog, but the dog doesn’t have a name, he’s just waiting until the dog introduces himself Relationships -Cleo (best friends, an unlikely pair considering cleos outgoing nature but they just go perfectly together) -TFC (sometimes when joe goes to the mountain for some solitude he sits with tfc and listen to his story’s from his life, this has inspired quite a few poems)

thats all for now heheh, if any of that don’t make sense it’s cuz i wrote it at like 1 in the morning 😳

[siren1song]

Sugarcoated

Summary: Patton is short, but he doesn't really mind it. And honestly? He minds it even less when he finds out the cute new employee can pick him up easy-peasy.

Warnings: Mentions of making out

Pairing: Intruality

General Taglist: @acanvasofabillionsuns​, @emo-disaster​, @greenninjagal-blog​, @jungle321jungle​, @sleepy-sides​, @gattonero17​, @izzynuggets​, @another-sandersidesblog​, @strawberryjellystuff​, @remusownsmyuwus​, @logic-with-a-pinch-of-deceit​, @demidork84​, @gr3ml1n-loser​, @main-chive​, @kiribakuandcats​, @firey-alex​, @orca-iguana​

Taglist for This: @jessibbb, @sanderssides-angst, @yalltookmyurlideas

Commissions!! | Buy Me a Kofi!! | Join Casper’s Crew!! | Ao3 Link!!

Notes: Tiny Patton and Remus picking him up. Tiny Patton and Remus picking him up.

Patton… was short. This wasn’t new to him, of course, but sometimes it could really be a pain in the tush. Being five foot one and working in a candy shop meant that sometimes he couldn’t reach the high shelves where all the individually wrapped hard candies were so young’uns couldn’t hurt themselves.

Which was what he was struggling to deal with right now, standing on his tip toes to refill one of the containers (he hadn’t been able to make Ivan and Steve stop flirting long enough to grab the step stool) and hoping he didn’t drop anything and waste stock.

He didn’t mind being short, but gosh being taller would be real nice right now.

Suddenly there was a hand guiding the bag of butterscotch away from the container Patton was trying to fill, and before he could protest, he was yelping because there was hands grabbing his waist and picking him up. Looking down with a flushed red face, trying not to wiggle too much when he was settled onto a shoulder, Patton saw the newest employee grinning up at him.

“Noticed you needed some help, hope this is okay?” Remus asked, patting Patton’s calf with the hand he had around his legs to help keep him balanced.

Oh goodness, he is strong being able to pick him up with as chubby as he was.

“Ah- Well I mean, in the future maybe ask before you pick me up? But uh… yeah this is a big help, thanks!” he said, unable to fight back his flustered giggle.

Remus’ grin grew wider, and Patton forced himself to focus on restocking the butterscotch instead of the swoop of butterflies in his belly at just how attractive that grin was.

Honestly, Patton hadn’t been expecting for there to be another instance where he was picked up. He’d moved the step stool to a new spot since Ivan and Steve kept flirting in that one, and nothing was too high for him to restock or clean with that thing.

He supposed physically picking him up and moving him away from the counter was one way to keep him from yelling at an entitled mother who thought her custom box of chocolates for her daughter wasn’t supposed to be as expensive as it was.

It was… also a way to distract him from his anger by making him remember just how gay he was for Remus. Which was a little bit of an issue considering Patton may be manager, but Logan was store owner and if de caught Remus saying what he was to the now scandalized mother, de would fire both of them. Remus for saying it and Patton for allowing it.

“Ah, Remus, please step back,” he said softly, grabbing his arm and catching Steve’s attention, nodding him in the direction of the woman.

Times like these, Patton was so grateful that Steve was so good at customer service.

Remus stepped back, following Patton when he gestured for him to do so.

They stepped into a supply closet, Patton not expecting to hear the click of the door closing behind them but forcing himself to not think about that right now because he needed to be professional and he couldn’t think about kissing someone who worked under him.

“I really appreciate you pulling me back out there,” he started, turning to face Remus before looking up for the light string, “but you can’t- dang it, I can’t reach that.”

Remus, without saying anything and wearing an amused grin, reached forward and pulled once on the chain.

Patton refused to acknowledge the showcasing of height made his face more red because he did not want to think about his attraction to Remus right now.

“Uh… thank you. Anyway, you can’t talk to customers like that, whether they’re rude or not-”

“You looked pretty close to ripping her head off yourself,” Remus commented, his grin growing when Patton spluttered a little in response.

“Yeah, well I just…” Patton sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and pursing his lips a little in a small pout, “she was calling Lo mean things, and deir my friend not just my boss.”

Remus nodded, making a vague sound of agreement that had Patton looking back up at him to see-

Oh. Oh. He is definitely watching his mouth, oh goodness.

“Yeah I heard, I’ve got ears. And eyes.”

“Uh… what does… your vision have to do with anything?” Patton asked, taking a step back and forcing back a squeak when his back met the wall.

Maybe a closet wasn’t the best decision to have a private conversation.

“Nothing important. Just noticing the cute manager and how flustered he gets around me. Say, question,” Remus said, interrupting Patton before he could even respond to the flirt.

“Oh, uh, answer,” he responded, his mind a little scrambled because Remus had just taken two steps closer and now there was barely two feet between them.

“What’s the policy on dating here?” he asked, taking one more step forward.

If Patton’s face wasn’t red before, it sure as heck was now.

“It’s um. It’s frowned upon.”

“Cool, I quit then,” Remus said and then he was tilting Patton’s face upwards just a bit more so he could place a kiss on his lips.

And well… if he quit, then Patton was going to let himself enjoy this.

“Patton,” Logan started, arms crossed over deir chest as de looked over deir glasses at Patton.

“Logan,” Patton responded, struggling not to giggle as he cupped his hand over the two hickeys on his neck, his other hand supporting his elbow as he stood in Logan’s office.

Percy, the one person in the candy shop who was fed up with all the flirting, had ended up walking in on him and Remus while they were kissing and had ratted Patton out to Logan.

Well… kissing was a light word for it, but Patton couldn’t find it in himself to care at this exact moment.

Logan sighed, rubbing deir temple while Patton finally let out the giggles he’d been struggling to hold back the last twenty minutes.

“I hope you know I’m going to have to put you on unpaid leave, Pat,” de said, giving Patton a tired look that turned Patton’s grin into a sheepish smile.

“I know now? How long?” he asked, tapping his fingers against his elbow and shifting his feet.

He kind of wanted to leave already. Remus was waiting for him in the employee parking lot.

“A week. Please don’t make out in the shop again, and especially not on the clock,” Logan said, giving Patton a pointed look that had him giggling again.

“Yep! Lesson learned! See you tomorrow!” he said, starting to back out of the room.

Logan frowned in confusion.

“Why tomorrow? Isn’t it your night to make dinner?”

Patton gave Logan a cheeky grin.

“You can cook, can’t you?”

And then he was out the door. Sure, that may not be the nicest way to go about things, and he would definitely be apologizing to dem later for flaking out on his night to cook, but he really wanted to spend some more time with Remus, and he’d promised him a fun time.

With how the twenty minutes in the supply closet went, Patton was honestly inclined to believe that.

When Patton stepped out of the building, Remus stood up from where he was leaning on his truck and waved him over with a grin.

“Hey sunshine, didn’t get fired did you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Patton once he was within a reasonable talking distance.

“No, but I’m on unpaid leave for a week.”

Remus blew a raspberry, making Patton giggle.

“Well shit. Bright side though, that means a little more time for us, huh sweetheart?” Remus asked, pulling the passenger door open.

Patton giggled and took a step forward to climb in.

Before he could, Remus had his hands on Patton’s waist and lifted him into the truck. Patton was going to protest, but Remus already his lips on his.

“I’d say that makes the leave worth it,” he said, words a little breathless, when Remus pulled away.

Remus chuckled, pecking his cheek and making him giggle when his mustache tickled his skin.

“Gotta agree there, butterscotch.”

[teamhook]

|AO3|

|FFN|

I want to thank @captainswanmoviemarathon and the shipmates on Discord.

I want to thank my Beta @ultraluckycatnd for her patience.

Chapter 2

The next day at work started as any other day. David was explaining the features of a Blu-ray player to an older man. 

Leroy was grumbling about Astrid forgetting to pack his lunch again, so he announced he would go pick up something to eat for the group.  

Arthur was idling by until a new customer arrived.

Killian was in his little office working, hoping today would be a better day.

The difference was that today a beautiful blonde entered the store. She was wearing some tight jeans and a red leather jacket. Arthur admired her from afar as she walked down the store aisles.

She stopped in front of the cameras and her head tilted to the side slightly. 

“Excuse me, Miss. Is there anything I can help you with?” Arthur smoothly asked. 

She turned to face him and glanced at the cameras. “I’m looking for a camera. Something cheap but decent quality.” She turned her attention back to him only to notice he was staring at her chest as if he could see through the sheer material that covered her breasts.

Killian was walking from his workspace as he noticed Arthur talking to a customer. He stopped for a second when he could see the woman’s face. It was the lovely lass who came to his home looking for Lacey. She looked stiff, no, uncomfortable. Bloody hell, Arthur was creeping her out. It was time for a dashing rescue.

Killian approached and greeted them. “Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt.” He smiled at her and turned his attention to Arthur. “Mate, Cruella is looking for you.” 

Arthur grimaced. “I’m with a customer, Killian.”

“I’m sorry, mate, she says it’s urgent.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, Miss. Killian will take care of you.” Arthur walked slowly to the back, clearly in no hurry to deal with their boss.

“I’m sorry, Miss. You looked uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, well your coworker is a jerk, but no one saves me but me. I was about to punch him in the face.”

Killian smiled at her. “I see, you’re a tough lass. How can I be of help, my lady?”

She smiled back. “I was telling Mr. Douche that I need a camera. I’m looking for a camera for my kid. He wants to sell stuff on eBay. And I'm not your lady. My name is Emma.”

“Oh, do you have a price range or any brand preference?” He couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Of course, a beautiful lass like her couldn’t possibly be single. He was not that lucky. 

“No, I don’t. I need something inexpensive but gets the work done. He's only doing it to earn money for some writing camp. He wants to be a writer when he’s older.” 

“He sounds like a wonderful young man. You and your husband must be very proud.”

“Is that your subtle way of asking if I’m married?” Emma smiled sarcastically at him. 

Killian scratched behind his ear and stuttered his denial. “No, it would be inappropriate for me to ask.”

“Would it be inappropriate if I said I’m a single mom?”

“No, it’s not. Um.” His attention turned to the cameras on display and he grabbed one. “This is a Nikon Coolpix A100 20 MP Digital Camera and it’s $98.99, but with my employee discount I can knock it down for you to $79.13. I think it will work for what your boy needs.” He smiled.

“You don’t have to use your employee discount,” Emma insisted. 

“It’s the least I can do. Arthur was unprofessional and it's a thank you for warning me about Lacey.” Killian smiled as he handed the camera to her.

Emma eyed him suspiciously; most men only do nice things for her if they want something, but this guy seemed genuinely kind. “Okay, but maybe I can buy you a coffee or something?” 

“That’s not necessary, lass. I just hope it’s of use for your boy.”

They walked to the cashier section, and Killian went behind the counter to charge her. She thanked him, and he watched her walk away for the second time.

No sooner had she left, when Arthur returned from the back office. “Hey, Jones. Cruella wasn't even looking for me, and because of you, she kept me in her office, trying to get me to,” he shuddered, “to ‘service her'.”

Killian winced. Cruella tended to attack Arthur and himself exclusively since David and Robin were both unavailable and Leroy was Leroy. 

Arthur shook it off. “So, where’s the hot blonde?”

Killian glared. “I helped her find a camera for her son.” He had a feeling that the fact she had a child would definitely be a turn off for Arthur. 

“She has a kid? What a waste.” Arthur walked away and put the blonde in the hell no category.

Later on that day, Killian was enjoying his lunch in the solitude of his little workstation. Arthur smiled at him as he entered. “Hey, I’ve been thinking; we should go out. Just the two of us?”

Killian stared at Arthur. 

“Hey man, it’s just unnatural for you to still be a virgin. I mean, you are not that bad looking. Yeah, a little nerdy, but I think we can find a willing woman to do you the favor. If we can’t get anyone, I’m sure Cruella would gladly offer herself.”

Killian’s ears turned red. “I don’t know, mate. I have plans.”

“Come on, what are you going to do? Go home and eat dinner, then watch some nerdy show and finally sleep? Think about it.” Arthur walked away.

Killian regretted not accepting the cup of coffee the lovely lass had offered. He was sure Arthur meant well, at least in his own way. Would it be so horrible to find a nice girl to be with? The right girl? Maybe she had long, blonde hair and sparkling green eyes.

It had been a few days since Emma purchased the camera for Henry. Her kid had loved it; he had been so excited. She had briefly mentioned how helpful Killian had been and that he had some collectibles. Her kid’s eyes grew wide. She had to add that she didn’t think Killian would be selling them, but if he wanted, she could ask for Killian to show them to him. Would it be too forward? There was something about the guy she really liked. He was nice and a gentleman. Hmm, there weren’t too many of those around anymore.   

Henry had noticed his mom had a genuine smile when she handed him the camera. There was more to it, but he wouldn’t pry. Just yet anyway. 

At dinner some days later, Henry asked, “Mom, I was wondering if I could spend Friday night over at Avery’s? We are working on a project for school.”

“Sure kid, what are you guys working on?”  Emma asked as she took a drink. 

“It’s a special project and I also have to work on my submission for writer’s camp,” he said looking down.

“Alright, do you need anything for it?” 

“Well, my computer hard-drive needs cleaning and it's running a bit slow. I was wondering if we could take it to the IT guy at that place you bought my camera. I checked their website and the prices are reasonable.”

“Oh, okay. We can do that. Do we need to make an appointment? The place is small, not a big electronic chain company,” Emma said. “This has nothing to do with your curiosity over the toy collection I saw, right?”

Henry smiled. “Nope, I promise. But if he wants to show his action figure to me I won’t complain.” He shrugged, donning a big, toothy grin. 

“I don’t know if it was a mistake telling you about that collection or not, kid. He might be a nice man but maybe I overstepped.” Emma said, smiling back. “Are you going to tell me anything about the special project or your submission for the camp?”

Henry studied his mom’s face. “I want you to be surprised.” 

“Alright. I won’t pressure you into telling me. We can go tomorrow right after school. Okay?” 

“Thanks Mom!” he said with a big grin. 

The grumpy man gave Emma and a smiling Henry directions to Killian’s workstation and they walked directly there. 

The space was immaculate. She noticed a small bell on the desk, so she rang it. From the back room there was some clattering, and some muttering was heard right before a booming voice shouted out, “I’ll be right with you. One second please.” 

Emma turned to Henry and ruffled his head fondly. 

Killian appeared from the room. A bright smile landed on his face as soon as he noticed who it was. “Hello, how may I help you?”

“Oh, hello. Uhm.” She nudged Henry. 

“Hello, I’m Henry and I was wondering if you could take a look at my laptop. I think it needs cleaning, it’s running slow.”

Killian took the laptop from the lad. “Hello, Henry. I’m Killian and I can gladly do that. Just let me run a diagnostic on it.” He went to the back room and came back with a flash drive and installed his program on the laptop. He gave Emma and Henry a smile. “It shouldn’t take long.”

It’s Henry’s turn to nudge Emma. Killian was looking at the exchange. 

“Killian, I-” Emma said.

Ding 

Killian’s attention returned to his task as he checked the computer for the results of a possible virus. His brow furrowed as he did his work. 

Emma studied his movements. 

Henry observed his mom, and knew she deserved happiness. She had been alone for so long. When he asked why, she simply said “You’re all I need.” He wasn’t a fool; yes, he was young, but he knew better.

Killian felt her eyes on him, and blushed. He tried to keep his voice steady. “Lass, this might take a wee bit longer than I expected. If you prefer, you and the lad can go to the diner around the corner. I will give you a call when the computer is ready.”

Emma smiled. “Oh, okay, we can do that. What do you say kid?”

“I can eat,” Henry said as his belly growled. 

After thanking Killian for the recommendation, Emma and Henry head out to the diner, while Killian sighed and got back to work. Once he was finished, he dug out the card Emma had given him when they first met and made the call.

Emma and Henry arrived shortly with a takeout bag. Emma placed the bag on the tidy desk. “Thank you for the recommendation. To thank you, we got you a snack. I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got you our favorite. Grilled cheese and onion rings.”

Killian smiled. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but you’ve been so kind.” Emma smiled back.

Henry watched the exchange with a smile. He knew it, his mom liked this guy, but getting her to admit it would be the challenge.

Killian cleared his throat. “Your total is $55.99.” The tips of his ears turned red. 

Henry grabbed the laptop and put it in its bag. “Wait, I thought it was $99 for a PC-tuneup?” he said as he pulled out crunched up $20 bills from his pocket. 

Killian smiled. “Aye lad, but I’m including my discount. Your mother said you are trying to save money for writer’s camp.” He handed Henry back his money.

Emma couldn’t believe her ears. He had truly listened to her, and he was genuinely so nice to Henry. 

Henry smiled and lightly blushed. “Thank you.” 

Emma smiled as she paid. She paused for a second, thinking maybe she should ask him out for coffee.

Killian took Emma’s money with a bashful smile as he gave her the receipt. Their eyes met briefly, both full of longing. She smiled as she took the receipt and almost whispered her goodbyes to him. 

His ears were burning. He wanted so badly to ask her out to dinner for a date, but it would be bad form to ask her in front of her lad.  Another opportunity wasted.

Tagging:

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[shirtlesssammy]

15x12: Galaxy Brain

Welcome back to the new recaps! We’ll be doing recaps on Thursdays now that the show airs on Mondays. 

Then:

Remember when death was welcome and we had no hope?

Now:

Four Weeks Ago:

Earth 2

At an unassuming Radio Shed, a woman casually strolls around getting creeped on by the store clerk. He’s just an eager salesman, but dude…(Also, I’m a bad fan and had to Shazam the song playing. I thought it was quite on the nose with the whole “I had a dream that I ate your heart” considering Jack’s recent activities. It turns out to be Louden Swain, and all you real fans must have been dying laughing at how perfectly placed the song was.) 

The dude is despondent when the woman leaves, but then a new customer arrives, eyeing up the wall of televisions. It’s Chuck. The guy gives his best spiel, but Chuck isn’t interested. “It’s monologue time,” he states.

Chuck explains his twisted life story. 

And shows us the world:

Anybody else wish we would have had a glimpse of Squirrel World in these television sets? Well, Chuck waxes poetic about all the worlds he’s created and how none of them bring him as much happiness as the world with the real Sam and Dean. “They challenge me. They disappoint me. They surprise me. They’re the ones.” Chuck then decides that it’s time to clear the board and get rid of everything but the world with the real Sam and Dean (WEEPS OVER THE “FAILED SPIN-OFFS” LINE. BOBO WE’RE SO SORRY.) 

Sioux Falls.

Our World.

Now.

We find Jody Mills having too much fun investigating the death of a cow. She gets a call from Alex and we learn that life keeps humming along for our Wayward women.

Once off the phone, Jody sees a flash of motion from a barn and heads to check it out. Someone attacks her from behind. JODY! 

At the bunker, Sam, Dean, and Cas discuss what to do about Jack and his deal with Death. Sam’s concerned because Jack doesn’t have his soul still. We cut to Jack looking at the carvings of DW, SW, AND MW. He lightly grazes the MW. We know exactly where his soulless mind is. 

He heads to his bedroom and he’s surprised when a reaper appears. 

Sam continues to question the plan of Billie’s that Jack will kill God. Cas fully trusts his little nephilim son. Dean’s spent some time with Death and thinks she has it figured out. 

The reaper tries to reassure Jack that Billie’s plan will work as long as he follows the rules --lay low, wait for instructions, don’t use his powers. They need to keep Chuck out of the loop. 

Sam interrupts the conversation and Jack lies about who he was talking to. Sam tries reassuring Jack that they’re very happy to have him home and that they will help him.  

Meanwhile, recently reunited husbands share a celebratory drink now that they’re family is back together. Cas can’t help but gloat over how right he was and celebrate his faith in Jack. Dean wants to celebrate getting revenge. I want to celebrate these two yahoos talking again! 

Dean gets a call from Jody. She’s in trouble. 

Sam and Dean head out and find Jody tied up in the barn. Dark Kaia attacks! She’s seriously badass, but no competition for the Winchesters + one Mills. She wants her spear back --and more to the point, she wants to go home. Sam wants to know why she even wants to go back to that place. She tells them the world is dying. She knows this because she still has a connection to our Kaia. YEP. Kaia is STILL ALIVE PEOPLE. Dark Kaia left her the tools to stay alive, and she has, but Dark Kaia wants to go back. And now the others want to save Kaia. 

At the bunker, Cas and Jack bond over a fun game of Connect Four. 

Sam, Dean, and Jody arrive back at the bunker --with Dark Kaia in tow.

*JODY AND CAS FINALLY MEET ALERT*

They all agree that Jack can’t use his powers to help Dark Kaia get home, but they have to save their Kaia another way. 

While they figure that out, they chain Dark Kaia to the kitchen table and give her a magazine to read. 

Jack thinks he’s found a great spell but John Winchester had to ruin everything and kill off one of the necessary ingredients. How that man is able to ruin things this far in the grave will never cease to amaze me. Dean sends Jack to check in on Jody and Cas. 

Jody and Cas discuss their almost daughter, Claire, and her quest for revenge. Jody tells Cas that Claire loved Kaia, and Jody doesn’t want to tell Claire about this recent development. It would be too much for her to bear if things don’t work out. 


Jack morosely peeks in on the stalled progress of Jody and Cas, then stops to talk to Alt!Kaia. She’s angry, accusing him of encouraging Kaia to make the jump to the other world. It’s his fault that Kaia is in pain and about to die. 

Alt!Kaia wanted to visit Earth Prime because it looked comfortable, but she finds it cold instead and hard to live in. She begs Jack for help in a way that makes you think she’s never begged for a thing in her entire life before. Jack dreamwalks with her and confirms that Kaia is trapped in the Bad Place and an all-swallowing storm is coming for her. 

Jack heads into the library, advertising his intent to the Winchesters that he’ll save Kaia from the Bad Place. Merle, the reaper from earlier, appears. She is…ENTIRELY unimpressed by this plan. Saving Kaia is “Winchester dumb,” Merle insists. 

If Jack tries to save Kaia, Merle is totally running off and tattling on him to Death. Jack reads the room and calls her bluff. “Go,” he tells her. He’ll open a rift with his magic and Merle can just DEAL with Billie’s wrath when she comes running. Merle’s not so hot on that prospect, instead reluctantly coughing up a plan B. The cosmic warding Amara removed from the bunkers is the key!

But FIRST our patron saint of long suffering salt, Merle, insults the Winchesters’ rune repair work. The Winchesters re-warded their walls against demons and monsters, but didn’t come close to the “cosmic grade stuff.” 

She can rattle up the warding temporarily to block Chuck’s perception, but she’ll need to add a little battery power to the attempt. She demands the use of “your angel” to properly run the spell.

Sam, our very best witch, recites the spell. Runes glow along the bunker walls and edges as the shielding spell takes hold. 

Heading out, the Winchesters agree that the plan is reckless, stupid…and it FEELS REALLY GOOD. They’re back to their roots, baby! Give me my dumb, poorly planned, big hearted missions any day.

Cas corners Jody, asking her to stay behind as well. He never bonded with Claire - and couldn’t given their history - but Jody did. He doesn’t want to picture a world where Claire loses both Kaia and Jody. The truth settles over Jody like a thick wool blanket and she agrees to stay behind. 

For Soft Cas Science:

Cas and Merle supercharge the wardings. 

Once the wardings are active, Jack slings out a rift to the Bad Place. Alt!Kaia smiles at last and ducks inside, quickly followed by the Winchesters. The Bad Place is rainy and windy and full of red-eyed monsters LOOK OUT! 

Alt-Kaia realizes that the monsters are just scared of a roiling gray storm and they head off to find Kaia. Dean greets her with a “Hey, kid,” and a hug! KAIA IS SAVED! 

Alt-Kaia, however, decides to stay behind. The Bad Place is her home, its ending be damned. The Winchesters race off with Kaia and Alt!Kaia greet the oncoming nothingness with open arms. 

They make it back through the rift and Jody gives Kaia a great big MOM HUG. Kaia’s eyes slip closed. She’s safe at last. 

A little while later, Kaia has availed herself of the bunker’s excellent water pressure or possibly even that amazing bathtub. She’s now wearing Jack’s spare sweatpants. Bless. 

She tells Jack that she survived by anchoring herself around a children’s rhyme her mother sang to her: Miss Mary Mack. Jack attempts to grasp another tiny sliver of humanity. Good luck, Jack. Many of us work on that to this very day!

Jody invites Kaia to live with her. “Will Claire be there?” Kaia asks and it’s…REAL CUTE GUYS. Wayward Sisters lives on, even if it’s off screen. ALL THE HEARTS

Merle dumps a big soaked blanket over the celebration. “If I cared for a second about saving that girl, I guess I’d say that was a victory,” she says with a weary sigh. I love this GRIM reaper. Sadly, she’s not long for this world. Billie’s scythe jabs through Merle’s throat and tears her into little cosmic pieces. 

Billie CANNOT BELIEVE these Winchesters. “Bending the rules already, Jack.”

“I tried to call you,” Jack all but squeaks out. 

No excuse, bud. She’s not mad, she’s disappointed. Billie explains that she sees the big picture, even if nobody else does. All the worlds except this one are dying. 

“It’s Chuck,” Cas surmises, and Billie rewards him with a no-shit-sherlock look for the ages.

Sam demands answers. “When I became Death,” Billie says, “I inherited Death’s knowledge and Death’s library. And in Death’s library, everyone has a book. Even God.” The books write themselves, in a wonderful bit of LIFE HAPPENS. Billie explains. “After God made the world…he wanted more. But he needed to create a perfect harmony. A swiss watch so this world could keep tick tick ticking in his absence.” Chuck built himself into the framework of reality. The Winchesters and Jack are in Chuck’s book. “This is your destiny. You are the messengers of God’s destruction.” 

Back at Radio Shed, Chuck watches his worlds get torn to shreds by horrible weather events and war. The hapless Radio Shed employee Chuck chained to his service looks exhausted, worn to shreds from serving the capricious god. (Definitely no symbolism HERE, nope.) He’s confident that Chuck will spare his planet. Right? RIGHT? 

“Everything’s just fine,” Chuck reassures him before leaving the Radio Shed. As he strolls from the shop, he tosses his empty cup aside as meteors streak in to destroy the planet.

That’s Win-Quotester Dumb:

It’s monologue time

Sir, this is a Radio Shed

You’ve got four of the same color connected so…given the name of the game I assume that means you won

One little measly life on the line and you’re willing to risk it all? That’s not just dumb. That’s Winchester dumb

Disobeying cosmic entities…doing the dumb, right thing…feels like we’re back

How’s it feel to be back? [silence] Good talk

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