#my sibling started learning other languages just to keep her mind stimulated in learning

[maganne-bonete]

I keep getting distracted from doing my actual projects as of late it's getting annoying. Hopefully I get to wake up on my alarm later to do some work. Look for a new clinic that could give me earlier service within the year and then rewrite Cassia's section of the chapter. Made some new canons to her family's story and this girl really needs therapy.

[princessofgayskull]

somehow I’ll still love you more headcanons

Some wonderful people have requested headcanons about my catradora fankid! So I’ve come to deliver! @needtotakeablake @dudebrocatra

Spoilers for the last chapter of somehow I’ll still love you more so I’m putting these under the cut!

I think I mentioned this in the author’s note at the end of chapter 7, but the Surge that was Aurora- or Rory’s- birthday was the longest but final Surge. There is never another one.

Perfuma is able to heal the Heart Blossom, but wherever there is new growth there is a faint line that shows where the tree broke; this line comes to be called “Aurora’s Mark”

Kittens are not able to retract their claws at birth (I got to do research on kittens for this fic and that was some of the most fun I’ve had researching a fic) and so for the first couple of years of her life, Rory can’t either. She accidentally claws at her face when she’s sleeping during her first few months so Adora and Catra have to put little gloves on her when she outgrows being swaddled. Sometime they’ll let her fall asleep holding their hand and once she’s asleep put a toy or blanket in her grasp so she doesn’t hurt herself. 

No, Wrong Hordak is never allowed to babysit. He basically becomes Ren’s nanny given that Ren’s moms are princesses of two different kingdoms, so sometimes he watches both Ren and Rory- but only when Rory gets older.

I almost included a little bit about Catra having the urge to lick Rory’s head and clean her, but it didn’t fit the tone I was going for in the last scene, so I scrapped it. I still hold onto it as a headcanon, tho.

Rory is not as much cat as Catra is; this is of course, because her other mother is human. Her eyesight isn’t as sharp and neither is her hearing, and her hair is more human than it is mane. 

Rory is an only child and stays one. I can’t see Catra and Adora trying for another child without worrying about tempting fate or causing favoritism. Besides, Rory basically has siblings in Kai, Ren, and Bow and Glimmer’s kids (twins, a girl and a boy about a year and half younger than Rory). She also has grandparents in George and Lance, and Micah and Angella. 

Rory is almost never not with her moms in the first few years of her life. In my mind, Etheria had a less segmented culture that allowed children to be seen and heard and it’s commonplace for parents to have their children in close range when they’re working. Rory starts coming to the Embassy when she’s about four months old; either Catra or Adora will carry her in a swing. She basically spends most of her childhood there, but Catra and Adora aren’t the only parents so she always has friends around her age. She’s much more friendly and outgoing than her moms were as little kids, but that’s less because of personality and more of a difference in socialization. She makes up just as many imaginary friends as she has real friends.

As an infant, she takes intense fascination with pulling Catra’s tail. Whenever she gets upset and can’t be soothed, Adora will transform into She Ra because the light and glow are very entertaining to her daughter. Catra doesn’t object because she figures Rory should be introduced to She Ra as early as possible. When Rory’s about three, she and Adora invent a game where when she’s getting restless, Adora will transform and Rory will practice climbing up her.

She’s very much a wild child. She’s hyper and has a lot of energy and if not entertained or stimulated she can run off in hopes of finding something that will keep her focus. She’s bright and a quick learner; she loves hanging out in different kingdoms and talking to people about their lives, but she scares Catra and Adora when she does so cause their daughter has basically run off to talk to a complete stranger.  

Ren is about eleven months older than Rory. They grow up basically cousins and definitely best friends being the daughter of princesses and diplomats. (They have a lot of time to hang out together since their mothers are almost working). In my mind Ren and Rory represent something that was never possible during the war, that is children who come from both rebellion and Horde backgrounds and for some reason this makes me very emotional.

Kai often gets stuck watching the two of them. No one can figure if Kai’s just a bad influence or Rory’s just a naturally wild child (she is, 100%) and the two bring out the wildest in Ren.

During a party held in Plumeria, Kai (11), Ren (7) and Rory (6) run off and discover Aurora’s mark and so Rory, being Rory and being 6, claws her name where the mark halves the tree. 

Rory has a deathly fear of fire after Kai took playing his father too seriously in a game they were playing and set a little patch of grass on fire that burned her foot. 

Catra and Adora take care of educating Rory until she’s about eleven years old. Rory has a soft spot for reading (yes it's because her moms read to her all the time when she was little) and as adept at picking up languages as Adora is. Very early can Rory read First Ones writing. (isn’t it weird to think that Rory is half first one?)

At eleven, she starts showing signs of magical ability. She attempts to keep it hidden knowing her mothers’ history with magic, but this makes the problem worse. Catra is the first to figure out something is wrong and breaks down Rory’s walls pretty fast, but she’s the opposite of angry or set off upon learning Rory’s little secrets. Catra and Adora theorize this magic ability might’ve come from the moment that Adora used She Ra’s magic to alleviate the pain Catra was in during labor. They encourage Rory to go study at Mystacore where Glimmer and Bow’s children are studying. Rory goes during the weeks, where Micah and Castaspella are her primary teachers and comes home during the weekends. 

Rory does not want to become a full fledged sorceress; after she graduates she wants to join the Etherian Peace Corps and help keep the tranquility she was born from. Her combat fighting style is a mix of Adora and Catra’s, as both taught her how to fight. 

I hope that satisfies! Thank you for showing Rory some love. It means SO MUCH!

[sebbybooks]

Going Through Lighting

Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction

“If he touched her, he couldn’t talk to her,

If he loved her, he couldn’t leave, if he

spoke he couldn’t listen, if he fought he

couldn’t win.” A.R

Deep breaths Franny.

Deep.

Fucking.

Breaths.

At the risk of sounding completely dramatic I was feeling morbidly sick and had to strongly resist the urge to not shout out my frustrations at the top of my lungs. Maybe I was slightly overreacting, but nonetheless I was still petrified. Considering the fact that I was thousands of feet in the air there was nothing in this world that I hated more than flying. Yet there I was headed all the way to California to hear about a surprise from my Dad that apparently couldn't be said to me over the phone.

I inaudibly let out a string of silent curse words that would make a sailor blush. I returned my focus back to my computer screen to finish one of my favorite films of all time in efforts to relax. I was mindlessly watching An Affair to Remember, a movie that by now I have reduced to memory. It was the scene where Terry was racing to get to the Empire State Building to confess her love to Nickie, before a car came whizzing by and hit her. When I suddenly noticed from out of the corner of my eye that the guy sitting next to me had been watching my laptop screen too.

Seeing that he had been caught spying on me he felt obliged to speak up. "You know I really hate that part. Cary Grant's character waited for hours on end and she never even showed up." The guy to my right said as he slightly leans a little closer causing our shoulders to brush. His cologne fills under my nose and I inhale it slowly. It almost duals as an aromatherapy for my anxiety. Almost.

Pulling my wireless headphones from my ears I shift a little in my seat to face him and smiled a sardonic smile. "Are you kidding me?" I gaped. I pressed the space bar on my laptop to pause the movie fully prepared to defend the actions of a fictitious woman from a 1957 melodramatic film classic. "Terry desperately tried to get to him. It wasn't her fault she became paralyzed after the accident. Nickie was clearly obtuse and too stupid to think that even for a second she didn't wait for him!"

I waited for his rebuttal, but oddly enough he remained tight lipped. We stared awkwardly at each other like it was some weird staring contest neither one of us wanted to lose. Eventually I blinked. As soon as I did I took in his appearance and from what I could see on the outside he was fairly decent. Ok I'll admit decent would not have begun to describe his natural attractiveness. His hair was longer on the top and shorter on the sides. You could see shadows of facial hair and tiny bits of gray stubble around his mouth and jawline.

He wore a pair of fitted tailored ash gray trousers and a crisp white Oxford rolled up to his forearm, he certainly wasn't dressed for a long flight. By the looks of his five thousand dollar Cartier wristwatch I wondered what the hell was he doing back in here economy class. My eyes start to stray further down his body and I quit while I was ahead because I could already see the slight bulge of his crotch. To avoid looking like a complete pervert I nip our meaningless conversation in the bud and I hit play on my movie. Right as I'm placing my earbuds back in I hear the faintest laugh come out of him. I bite back on my instinct to keep quite. "Now what?"

"Nothing. . ." His voice trailed off. "Is this your first time flying?" He asks with a knowing looking. Those bright blue eyes bore into me.

"Flying isn't exactly on my list of things that excite me, but no this isn't my first time." I hesitated. "What was it that gave me away?" I asked purely out of curiosity. I gripped my middle finger and index finger tightly to stimulate feeling back into my hand that's started to tingle.

"For starters you were fidgeting in your seat for the longest time and for about a minute or two you stopped squeezing the life out of your hand while you were talking to me. I figured if I came up with something to say you would get distracted and maybe just for a moment you would think about something else so that your fingers would still have functioning nerves in your hand by the time we landed. " He says, and within an instant I dropped them to my lap. I immediately start to cringe at myself.

One would think it would get easier over time and that I would find better ways to at least deal with my fear of being on airplanes. Being an assistant buyer for Saks comes with the territory, but traveling outside of work I typically liked to avoid it at all cost. A fact that seems to escape my father. When he called me a few days ago with an urgency in his voice that made my stress levels skyrocket. Only to be replaced with confusion because it wasn't like my dad to be so secretive about anything. He asked that I come out to see him right away despite it not being a life or death matter. Considering I was all he had and he was adamant about me seeing him. I figured it was all just a rouse for him to just get me to spend more time with him.

"Thanks." I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, forcing my eyes shut hoping that I would disappear from my inability to act normal on airplanes. For a few seconds I believed he had returned to minding his own business. It was silence, and then, "You don't want to know what my name is?" He asks.

I can feel his eyes on me and I purposely keep my head turned away from him. "If I guess Rumpelstiltskin do I get to keep my first born child? Or can you simply not say your name Betelgeuse?" I couldn't stop myself from teasing him. I tried to hide the grin trying to grow on my face. Was I actually smiling?

"Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice." He paused and looked all around him as if he misplaced something. He brought his hands to his chest in a frantic gesture. "I'm still here so nope that's not my name either."

"How unfortunate then." I feigned a sigh. He looked at me as if he had met his match and for some reason I liked the approving look. I easily wanted more. His presence brought a temporary calmness that I didn't want to lose so quickly despite my initial cold shoulder brought on by trepidations from flying. A part of me was actually settled which was something that almost never happened to me on flights. "Francesca. Though every one calls me Franny." I introduced myself. I was still facing forward looking down at my laptop.

"Well it's a pleasure Franny, everyone calls me Sebastian." He said to me. Even the sound out his name in my head silenced the white noise fueling my growing levels of perturbation. After learning the name of the guy who clearly wasn't shamed to admit to liking circa 1950s romance cinematic features such as An American in Paris, To Catch a Thief, and Houseboat. I figured he had taste or oddly was just into films starring Cary Grant. For the most part our conversation mainly consisted of questions that felt straight out of an article that helped people with conversational ice breakers.

Like for instance I learned that he prefers coffee over tea, no siblings, he is an animal lover but has zero pets, he's single, and reads more than he watches television. Oh and that he is single. I had to reiterate that into my brain just to be sure. I made sure to keep my answers to his questions short and sweet because the chances of us speaking again after this flight were slim to none. Guys that looked like him never stayed single for long, and I wasn't interested in competing for his attention alongside the flight attendant who couldn't stop staring at him every chance she got. Which of course he didn't notice and if he did then he was probably use to the attention.

"So Franny is this trip for work or for pleasure?" Sebastian asked.

I was stiff as log in my seat apart from my leg that wouldn't stop bouncing up and down. The pattern in turbulence fluctuated greatly. Almost every ten minutes the plane would jostle which of course in my mind made me think only the worse. "Is this your way of you trying to be helpful again?" I could already feel my pulse spiking.

"Actually it was my way of trying to pry information out of you." This guy was either arrogant or really confident in himself. He was looking down at something on his phone completely unbothered.

"That didn't sound creepy at all." I told him.

"Well I'm assuming it's something really important if it's got you out of your comfort zone." He pushed. All I could think about was that Sebastian had picked the worse time to try and make small talk. I felt the wave of turbulence again and that time it was back to back. Panic was prickling up my spine when everyone was instructed to return to their seats and fasten their seatbelt. We were now experiencing changes in the altitude due to the incoming thunderstorm. Just wanted I needed to hear.

My throat burned. Like I actually felt a burning sensation in the back of my throat. Somehow I still found the ability to muster up sound. "My dad , " I sat upright trying to sit in a more relaxed position. "I think he's lonely and I miss him so yeah here I am." I huffed.

"You're a good daughter." Sebastian nodded as he listened. He didn't know me well enough to offer praise, but suffering through this flight I wanted a damn trophy.

"Since I'm sure you were going to ask me the same I'll go ahead and answer for you." He added. I rolled my eyes playfully as I sucked in a shaky breath. "What's in California?"

Sebastian crossed one of his legs over the other and rested his elbow onto the armrest. He was leaning on it and his body was angled more so in my direction. We were siting so close now that it almost looked like we were sharing a seat. That made the flight attendant who had been gawking at him do a double take in our direction.

His facial expression turned grim and slightly annoyed. I could sense from the tautness in his body language that this was probably a sensitive subject. "This must be parents' weekend." Sebastian's laughed lacked humor. He hesitated on what he was about to say next and he gnawed on his bottom lip for a good fifteen seconds. An for some reason I silently watched him do it.

"My mother went off and got eloped to one of her flavors of the week. Tonight I was suppose to meet the happy couple for the first time. All of this was sprung on me last minute. Finding a flight that left out tonight was finding a needle in a hay stack.” He had as much enthusiasm in his voice as Eeyore. Which was none existent.

"I'm going to be honest with you that sounds awful." I looked at him apologetically. I shook my head at the thought of my dad pulling a stunt like that and not telling me. We might not see eye to eye over everything but we had always been close. Even thinking about it hypothetically dampened my mood.

"Yeah, tell me about it." He glowered. Sebastian rubbed both of his hands over his face and made a noise into his hands that easily passed as a growl or a moan. It didn't matter because now I had both sounds locked into my memory bank. "However, my only bright spot was being able to sit next this raven haired beauty who could use a drink." I was slow to process who he was referring to.

"Hmmm, well now that made me remember I need to dye my hair bright purple." I lied. For some reason I could never seem to take a compliment, especially if it was a flirtatious one. There was no way I could covertly sneak a cursory glance at my appearance to get a glimpse of what he saw. By now I was certain my makeup was splotchy and my lips were chapped from biting them ferociously.

My clothes were every bit of casual I had on a long sleeve black leotard with camel colored high-rise chino pants, and I sported my favorite pair of worn white high tops. When I glanced up at him the tight feeling in my chest was replaced by something entirely different. Indigestion maybe? Sebastian leaned in a little closer and he angled his face closer to my ear. "It would still look sexy on you." He lowered his voice and I can't deny that it was doing sinful things to me.

Not a moment too soon to make matters even more stressful the pilot made an announcement that there was going to be an emergency landing due to the extreme storm brewing in the sky. Which was deemed unsafe and can not be flown above or even around. Mother Nature was really showing her ass tonight. If something else bad was going to happen I would really appreciate if it waited till I wasn't on this flight anymore.

"What's one of your turn offs about a person?" Sebastian casually asked me. My neck turned so fast I swore I broke it. "What?" I coughed.

He tossed a handful of almonds in his mouth while staring off at something ahead. We were about to land and have a layover completely throwing me off schedule. I looked off into the direction he was looking at and on first glance I had no clue where this was coming from. "Franny?" He called out to regain my attention.

"Guys that aren't funny but think they are comedians." I said automatically. Which was a random one considering I had a whole list. "Why do you ask?"

Sebastian shrugged. "Because mine is meaningless eye fucking." He answered bluntly. A couple in front of us immediately turned around in synchronization and stared back at us with a disapproving eye. Sebastian's devil may care act seemed to only trigger them further. When I saw that between was a little boy, feeling embarrassed I mouthed an apology. The mom ceaselessly just shook her head as if we were degenerates.

"Anyway," Sebastian continued like nothing happened. I give him a look. "That woman over there has been eyeing me since I stepped foot on this plane. We keep making this awkward eye contact and I'm grinning back showing all of my teeth because I don't know how else to respond."

So he did notice her watching him.I snorted. "Don't tell me you're shy."

"No. . ." Sebastian paused. "I have shy like tendencies." He could barely keep a straight face at his confession. I wanted to laugh but it was cut short by me being jostled in my seat yet again. I gripped onto the armrest for dear life. All of my tips and tricks to ease my anxiety were failing me. I was headed for full on panic attack.

"Franny?"

"Hold on." I said faintly. Inhaling through my nose and exhaling from my mouth. The tears were coming I could already start to feel them well up in my eyes.

"Give me your hand." Sebastian said as concern filled up his face. This guy knew knew nothing about me apart from me being a total badass when it came to the art of puzzling and that I liked extremely sour gummy worms. We were not friends and I wasn't even sure if we were acquaintances. Sebastian was simply someone to talk to until the plane landed.

"I am not giving you my hand I hardly know you." I said on a exhalation. "You could be a psycho." My voice was a whisper solely on the off chance that someone was eavesdropping and my words could be taken out of context. I wanted to take that chance and trust him but this whole ordeal just seemed so weird.

Sebastian lowered his head closer to me and mimicked my tone. "Or I could be someone who just wants to show a little kindness to the person I'm currently crushing on."

My eyes opened wide and sat there dumbfounded for at least a millisecond while my brain tried to catch up with this cliché I was living in. "Dare I ask but are these recycled pick up lines from middle school?" I quipped.

"Maybe." He answered with a half smile that was making me anxious for all the wrong reasons.

"Normally crushes take longer than an hour to develop." I replied nonchalantly. Sebastian looked up, his eyes locked onto mine. "And yet falling doesn't happen in slow motion."

A nervous laugh escapes from my mouth. I waited to hear a joke or something incredibly inappropriate to indicate that he was just messing with me. My mind was swimming with things to say but they all ended with the same question. What in the actual hell was going on? Seven painfully long minutes dragged on by with my thoughts going back and forth saying do or don't. It's a just a hand Franny and a kind gesture at that. Apart from the modern day wave of creeps what was there to be afraid of? Did I just answer my own question? My musing was interrupted when I heard Sebastian's voice commingle with the sound of feminine laughter.

I looked up over at his seat and low and behold the flight attendant who could barely do her job for salivating over Sebastian the whole flight made her way over to him . That woman was persistent I give her that. She turned her body unnecessarily close into his seat as she tucked an errant strand of brown hear behind her ear. She was obnoxiously fawning over something stupid he said I'm sure. The woman was practically throwing herself on him. Flashing all her pearly whites and batting her long stark black lashes at him. Jesus, there was nothing imperfect about her. She even made her uniform look hot.

I wasn't a jealous person nor did I posses some claim over Sebastian. I am however still human and sooner or later my emotions eventually will get the better of me. Not being able to stand the sound her of lilting laughter. My arm reacted before the rest of my brain could catch up. My actions weren't subtle in the slightest and before I knew it I had my hand wrapped around Sebastian's hand. Their conversation had come to an abrupt halt and I was too embarrassed to see the look on either of their faces. I should've just let go of his hand and acted like a normal person.

It was awkwardly placed on top of his and I instantly regretted the decision when I remembered how clammy it was in comparison to his. Feeling gutsy I finally lifted my head to see that both of their gazes zeroed in on my hand placement. I hated that there was a sense of enjoyment on Sebastian’s face.

I reminded myself that I wasn't competing for Sebastian's attention, but when the flight attendant whose name I do not care to learn looked at me like I was growing a tail from my forehead frowned as she walked away. I couldn't help but give her my best "fuck you too" smile back at her. I was just about to move it away when I felt Sebastian swiftly flip his hand over to fit mine into the palm of his hands.

"How long will you be in Napa Valley?" Sebastian's voice cut through my thoughts as if nothing happened. I was about to say a snappy remark accusing him being a suspect on John Walsh's unsolved mysteries with all of his questions. When I felt the warmth of his hand the moment his fingers unfurled and laced through mine effortlessly . My breath caught when the pad of Sebastian's thumb lightly stroked the side of my hand in a slow circular motion. It wasn't a sensual act we were taking part in and the gesture seemed completely juvenile. I don't think Sebastian was trying to get a reaction out of it either. Truth of the matter was that I couldn't stop feeling like my entire body would combust just from one simple touch.

"Just for a couple of days." I muttered. I was unable to concentrate for that fact he was holding onto me. Was hand foreplay a thing, because this sure felt like it. I felt a twinge of disappointment in my chest because I knew that eventually I was going to have to let go. Gosh did that make me sound crazy? I've known him for five seconds.

"Any chance you'd stick around long enough to grab a cup of coffee with me?"I turned my head to see if he was watching me, but he was staring at everything but me. I studied the sharp contours of the side of his face to see that he was looking straight ahead at the seat in front of him. Could it be? Did I actually make the cool and funny Sebastian nervous?

I scrunched my nose at the speculation. "I don't think you can handle my chaotic energy when I have caffeine." I answered truthfully, which was met with more silence. Sebastian sucked in his bottom lip and quirked his brows in response to what I had just said. Any minute now we were getting ready to land and we hadn't even exchanged phone numbers. "It's a good thing decaf exist." I added.

Sebastian nodded his head slowly and his postured relaxed which suggested he had hoped I changed my mind. " I concur."

"Can I ask you a question?" It felt random and completely out of nowhere but the thought had been sitting on the tip of my tongue since he mentioned it.

"Well it's about damn time you did." Sebastian squeezed my hand and let me tell you the grip was firm. It was putting the kinkiest thoughts in my head and I needed to kill them immediately.

"Are you happy for your mom?" I asked him, I try to steer the conversation from my indecent imagination. It was a question that made him go stoic. His jaw ticked back and forth as he rotated our clasped hands. Sebastian intently stared at the polish on my nails. It was the shade Yank My Doodle by OPI but that was besides the point. It was obvious that he was trying to deflect.

His nod was terse and our eyes connect when he looks up. "She looks for temporary bliss in things or people. Nothing really satisfies her. My mom sees life through rose colored glasses and sooner or later she always ends up disappointed but quickly onto the next ." Sebastian says miserably. "Right now she's clung to a man who owns a small hardware store and has two first names."

I swallow down the lump in my throat. There was absolutely no way the man I had in mind was the same man Sebastian was referring to. I mean there was a lot of men in the Valley that owned their own hardware shops right? "Does his name happen to be Eric Taylor?" My voice came out strangled, because there was just no fucking way.

"Does everyone know this man?" He asked with an entrancing smile that was unnecessarily sexy and so so so unattainable now.

I pulled my hand away like his was made of fire and it didn't nearly hurt as much as the look on Sebastian's face from my sudden action. "I know him alright. He's my father."

[strategemme]

I THINK WITH MY HEART AND I MOVE WITH MY HEAD

EMMELINE VANCE: Character Task No. 1

𝖖 𝖚 𝖔 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

The lion cannot protect himself from traps, and the fox cannot defend himself from wolves. One must therefore be a fox to recognize traps, and a lion to frighten wolves. I don't trust society to protect us, I have no intention of placing my fate in the hands of men whose only qualification is that they managed to con a block of people to vote for them. They used to say that if Man was meant to fly, he’d have wings. But he did fly. He discovered he had to. There are things that have to be done and you do them and you never talk about them. You don't try to justify them. They can't be justified. You just do them. Then you forget it. Due to personal reasons, I will be performing vigilante justice. 

𝖇 𝖆 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈

NAME: Emmeline L. Vance; there isn’t a soul (presently) alive that knows what the “L” stands for. NICKNAMES: Em; other abbreviations of her name are generally acceptable as long as you don’t try to call her Emmie.  AGE: 22 BIRTHDAY: August 27, 1957 GENDER: Female PRONOUNS: She/Her

𝖋 𝖆 𝖒 𝖎 𝖑 𝖞

MOTHER: Florence Vance neé Chevalier ( 50 ) { born in France, moved to England after marrying Devon } // muggle  FATHER: Col. Devon Vance ( 57 ) { recently retired from the British Army } // muggle  SIBLINGS: Anthony Vance ( 28 ) { named after a dear friend of Devon’s that was killed during the Second World War } // muggle 

𝖕 𝖍 𝖞 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈 𝖆 𝖑 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖊𝖘

FACE CLAIM: Demet Özdemir BUILD: Average height, athletic HAIR: Long, worn in waves on nights requiring effort and otherwise tossed into a bun   HAIR COLOR: Brunette EYE COLOR: Brown SKIN COLOR: Tan DOMINANT HAND: Right { she’s pitiful when it comes to her left hand }  ANOMALIES: (1) Scar across her left palm from making a blood-pact as a ten year old; it’s so faded now that you can only catch a gleam of silver in the bright sun. (2) Various small burns across her hands and forearms from healing poultices gone askew. SCENT: Vanilla and cedar wood; she’s worn the same perfume since her Hogwarts  ACCENT: Standard English  ALLERGIES: Cats  DISORDERS: Insomnia; she’s always attributed it to a general pace of “too much to do and too little time,” but there are nights when all she wants to do is collapse into her bed yet finds herself condemned to staring at the ceiling; many people make the mistake of believing that she doesn’t need sleep to operate, but her history of errors speaks otherwise.  FASHION: She spends far more time in lime green robes than she cares for, and thus compensates with a wardrobe full of neutral colors. She still feels more comfortable in muggle attire than wizarding robes, and thus is seen frequently in various combinations of jeans, blouses, and boots.  NERVOUS TICS: After years of having her tics evaluated and erased, Emmeline has largely eradicated any tells of nervousness. Old habits die hard, however, and with the stress of the war mounting, she’s falling back into drumming her index and middle finger on any solid surface capable of absorbing her anxiety. As she’s assumed a leadership position, she’s also taken up the habit of pacing while waiting for her teams of tier three operatives to return.  QUIRKS: (1) With the current travel restrictions, Emmeline has fallen back into driving. She learned during one of her summers away from Hogwarts, and her trusty Vauxhall Viva has carried her across Britain and back several times over. (2) When approach Diagon Alley for pleasure, Emmeline prefers to enter through the Leaky Cauldron. There’s something symbolic about crossing from Muggle to Wizarding London. (3) If Emmeline starts something, she has to finish. It doesn’t matter how long it takes, she cannot abandon a task already underway. It is one of the reasons she spends so long planning: planning necessitates time and distance while action must be immediate. 

𝖑 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 𝖘 𝖙 𝖞 𝖑 𝖊

RESIDES: Puddlemere, England { London has always been home, and her work at St. Mungo’s frequently brings her into the city. But as war rears its head, Emmeline has opted for more strategic ground. The community of Puddlemere is welcoming to muggleborns, and her proximity to other Order members offers safety that could never be found in city streets. } BORN: London, England  RAISED: Too many places to count, though Emmeline isn’t partial to declaring military barracks as her hometown. Jokingly, she’ll say that Hogwarts was the most permanent home she had while growing up. More seriously, she’ll consider herself a Londoner.  PETS: A tawny owl named Machiavelli, though she considers him more of a useful friend than a pet.  CAREER: Healer { additionally, a vigilante; she offers free... how shall we say.. r e t r i b u t i o n to muggleborn and half-blood families that need a little extra muscle, be it of the offensive or defensive sort. } EXPERIENCE: In the medical field, Emmeline has specialized in accident and emergency, though it seems every Witch or Wizard only deems medical care necessary in such cases. Outside St. Mungo’s, she has frequented several underground dueling clubs to keep her skills sharp.  EMPLOYER: St. Mungo’s POLITICAL AFFILIATION: The Order of the Phoenix  BELIEFS: The the Wizarding community is in desperate need of some muggle influence (preventative medicine, to start, but automobiles, microwaves, and telephones would be a wonderful addition). The motivation of purebloods to eradicate such influence only keeps the community from advancing and reaching full potential, and the mounting war is representative of the collision between the old world and the new. (That said, she’s strongly of the belief that no one should have to die while seeking out inclusivity.)  MISDEMEANORS: Nothing that has found its way onto her record.  FELONIES: Being a muggleborn is starting to damn well feel like one.  DRUGS: Never. As much as Emmeline has a tendency to lock herself within her mind, she has yet to seek out drugs as a key.  SMOKES: Unfortunately. She knows she shouldn’t, but nicotine is often the only thing capable of taking the edge off and stimulating her focus at the same time. It’s a necessary evil, and her pocket is rarely without a pack  ALCOHOL: A taste for scotch runs in the family, and it’s often one of the most expensive items on her list of expenses for the month. She refuses to touch it while in the process of acting, but it plays a large role in her planning stages.  DIET: Emmeline never managed to find the time to take up cooking, and as such, she depends on local takeout.  LANGUAGES: English, French  PHOBIAS: Deep water { she adores swimming, but will never go so deep that her toes can’t graze the bottom } ; failure { a common fear, but many years passed where she refused to speak up in class because her fear of being wrong was greater than her confidence in being right; now those days have passed and she’s perhaps too passionately outspoken, but if she isn’t complete convinced of something, the words will never pass her lips } ; death { she’s grazed the reaper more times than she can count, either in her own life or accompanying the paths of others. still, she can’t imagine what it would be like to see her own funeral. she acts with certainty and confidence, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t fear what is on the other side of that bright green flash. } HOBBIES: Reading, board games or cards, camping, pick-up games of very, very, very amateur Quidditch  TRAITS: I never dreamed about success; I worked for it.  { + }: Hardworking, clever, frequently compassionate (but...) { - }: Occasionally apathetic, subconsciously manipulative, righteous 

𝖋 𝖆 𝖛 𝖔 𝖗 𝖎 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

LOCATION: Diagon Alley; it is the place where she first felt that her magic was a blessing rather than a curse, and it continues to instill that childlike hope in her whenever she visits. It’s one of the few bright places remaining.  SPORTS TEAM: Puddlemere United, naturally. She’s only recently moved to Puddlemere, but she has a long history of training Mediwitches and Mediwizards during Puddlemere’s practices and matches, and as such has brushed shoulders with the team just enough to be emotionally invested in their success.  GAME: Chess (of either the muggle or wizarding variety)  MUSIC: She knows the correct answer to this is anything orchestral, yet Goodbye Yellowbrick Road is the most frequently-played record in her flat.  MOVIES: The Godfather, Patton, Saturday Night Fever FOOD: Her mother’s Beef Wellington. She’s yet to find its rival.  BEVERAGE: Scotch, Earl Grey COLOR: Light green (but certainly not lime, damn those robes) 

𝖒 𝖆 𝖌 𝖎 𝖈

ALUMNI HOUSE: Ravenclaw  WAND (length, flexibility, wood, & core): 11.25in, sturdy, redwood, dragon heartstring AMORTENTIA: Leather, incense, cotton  PATRONUS: Hawk  BOGGART: The visage of the first patient that died due to her negligence. It isn’t an exact replica from her memories, but one that is in the process of decomposing. It’s propped up in a bed like the ones populating St. Mungo’s. 

𝖈 𝖍 𝖆 𝖗 𝖆 𝖈 𝖙 𝖊 𝖗

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Neutral good  MBTI: ENTJ MBTI ROLE: Analyst ENNEAGRAM: Type 8  ENNEAGRAM ROLE: The Achiever  TEMPERAMENT: Choleric WESTERN ZODIAC: Virgo  CHINESE ZODIAC: Rooster PRIMAL SIGN: Corgi TAROT CARD: The Chariot TV TROPES: Lady of War, Female Empowerment Song, Historical In-Joke, Showing Up Chauvinists  SONGS: Tongues -- Joywave // History Has Its Eyes on You -- Christopher Jackson // Come With Me Now -- KONGOS // Vindicated -- Dashboard Confessional // Baba O’Riley -- The Who // Vienna -- Billy Joel // Machine -- MisterWives // Kill Your Heroes -- AWOLNATION // Sabotage -- Beastie Boys 

𝖎 𝖉 𝖊 𝖔 𝖑 𝖔 𝖌 𝖎 𝖊 𝖘

Muggle influence will do more good for the wizarding world than it ever will harm

Encourages second chances but condemns those that require a third 

People should expect to get out of the world what they put in (no more, no less) 

Violence should be a last resort, but damn if it isn’t a definitive one

Those that are neutral in a time of oppression have chosen the side of the oppressor 

Sugar has no right to be in coffee or tea 

History repeats itself; if you can’t find a parallel within the pages of history books, the situation simply hasn’t developed thoroughly enough yet 

Cheap scotch is worse than sewer water 

[soulofatiny]

No Fear, I’m Here... Ch.2: Fellaz

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genre: enemies to lovers, assassin, & mafia!au

word count: 3.7k

warning: none yet but it is an assassin au...

a|n: ***IMPORTANT PLEASE READ*** For those who have read Ch.1, I’ve made some minor changes. Previously, y/n’s affiliation was YG and the ceo of YG. However, I recently caught up with all the news surrounding the company at the moment, and I do not feel comfortable using his name. Therefore, “YG Banks” will be changed to “ZG” and the Boss’ name “Yang” will be changed to “Zang”. I apologize for this odd change but I just felt it was necessary. Thank you and happy reading!

Ch.3

masterlist

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“Nana! Listen to me! You killed me here on October 24, 2011. You. Killed. Me. You have taken my life and you will take others’ lives and feel no remorse doing it. You don’t feel any emotions and you will not feel any emotions except fear. Fear for your life. You will always and forever fear that someone is out there to take your life instead.”

You jolt awake hyperventilating. Cold sweat soaking the strands of your hair and goosebumps marking your body. You felt bile creeping up your throat and ran to the bathroom for its release. “So much for resting before a job…” This wasn’t anything necessarily new in your life. You’ve had the exact same dream numerous times in the past, never knowing what it meant. All you could see in your dream was always a body covered in blood, the face blurred out and the same voice that keeps telling you the same thing every time…

“You killed me.”

You most likely did.

“Fear for your life.”

You are.

You never knew when exactly you’ll have that dream so it was always either a hit or a miss of a dreamless night whenever you slept. Today, however, was definitely a miss. Actually, it’s been a miss the past couple of weeks and it’s getting to the point where you stay up to avoid that dream... It was definitely a bad idea to try to get some rest before a job...but you were getting desperate.

You groaned looking at the clock that read 7:00 p.m. “How fitting,” you thought. Nana is your codename, translating from the Japanese number, 7. It was assigned to you when you first arrived at ZG, being the 7th to arrive and used a fake name, [y/n] whenever it required you to give a name outside of the organization. Much like what you had to do for Yeosang.

7:03 p.m...You still had some time before you head to Fellaz, so you decided to take a shower. Whether if it’s to cleanse the cold sweat clinging to your body or the limited memories that haunted you, you didn’t know. You just needed to feel some sort of relief either way and not think about what’s going to happen in the next couple of hours. Stripping off your clothing, you stepped into the shower. Immediately feeling your tense shoulders ease upon the contact of the warm water and your mind began to wander back to when you first joined the organization.

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“The 7th one is supposed to arrive today. She finished her phase one training and should be ready for phase two. Eight through ten will be arriving the next day after her.”

“How about one through six?”

“They’re all displaying positive results. After seven through ten adjusts, I believe we’ll be able to go into phase three within the next 3 years.”

ZG nodded, “Then we’ll hold the initiation officially on October 24, 2011. No delays. Do not disappoint me, Mino.” And with that, Mino followed escorted his boss to his chauffeur waiting for him outside. Mino was in charge of running the phase two-training smoothly to ensure that everything will go according to the boss’ initiation program. He bowed deeply as the chauffeur drove his boss away from the facility. As Mino walked back inside, one of the workers notified him of your arrival. “Finally…”

You were told that you’ve graduated from phase one, where trainees were educated until they surpass the advanced level in all subjects of math, language, geography, analytical thinking while simultaneously receiving physical training that consisted various martial arts/combat styles, artillery, and blade training. There were many that started from birth, being raised in the facility nursery and officially start training once they learn how to walk and there were others that begin around toddler age but you couldn’t remember when you’ve started. Despite receiving the training from top tier educators, some simply may not possess the potential to be selected for ZG’s special program and were usually terminated. Which obviously isn’t you because you are currently blindfolded and being transferred via car to the building of phase two. They’ve never let you go beyond the walls that completed the perimeter of your first training building. You’ve heard stories of some trying to risk going beyond the walls and were immediately terminated. You felt the vehicle stop and the door opened with someone grabbing your arm to guide you out. You couldn’t see anything but you could hear at least two different footsteps excluding your own. You all kept on walking for a good while until you all halted and waited until a voice startled you. “Take your blindfold off.” You complied and immediately faced with a man perhaps in his 20’s but what caught your attention was his sharp eyes, almost snake-like and threatening aura that sent your body shivering in anxiousness. “You’re the 7th to arrive. If we wanted to address specifically at you, we’ll refer to you as ‘Nana’. How old are you?” You stood in silence and Mino was about to lose his patience until he remembered why “Speak.”

“I was told that I’m ten-years-old.”

“I see. I expect you to make it until phase three. My workers will guide you to meet your new educator. Do not disappoint me or you will be terminated.”

You immediately bowed deeply and Mino walked away. You looked up and saw the two men now exposed free from your blindfolds who presumably are Mino’s workers. One of the men signaled for you to walk and you complied. The building seemed sterile and the long hallways glistened with the fluorescent lights reflecting the glossy white floors, very much designed like your previous facility. You continued to walk, passing by many doors until the man in front of you stopped and pointed at the door of the room you’ll be residing. Before they both turned to leave you, you bowed deeply to show your acknowledgment. You were taught that you were allowed to bow to anyone in a higher up position than you at any given time, but were not allowed to speak before given permission. The two men nodded and walked away, leaving you to your new training. Until you could no longer see them, you finally knocked on the door. The door opened revealing a woman that had the corners of her mouth turned upwards and caught you off guard. From your previous studies, you’ve learned that this is what people would call a smile but it’s the first time you’ve witnessed one in person, how peculiar. “Hi! You must be Nana! We were expecting you! Come in, come in!” You bowed to indicate your greeting and walked in. The woman’s voice was loud in volume and she was still smiling. It looked painful for her cheeks but she continued, “I’m your head educator of phase two-training! Things will be very different from your phase one-training. First off, while you’re in this building, you do not need to ask for permission to speak. Just follow the basic speech mannerism that you’ve learned from your previous training but do so with your will of speaking.” You waited until she continued to speak but realized that she was waiting for you to speak so you mumbled a small, “Yes.” That was the very first time you spoke without permission and it honestly felt strange in your stomach. The woman stared at you, writing something down on her clipboard and smiled even harder, something you didn’t think was possible. “Perfect! Secondly, here, you will learn about emotions and try to enhance the stimulation of your feelings! I’m sure you must be confused but this is all very exciting and I can’t wait until you meet your family member!”

Confused…? Exciting…? Family…? You were familiar with the vocabulary from your studies but never heard them used in a sentence. Suddenly, the strange feeling in your stomach growing larger. The woman looked at you cautiously, “Ah, I’m sorry. You must be overwhelmed! You feel something in your stomach, don’t you?” You widen your eyes, “Y-yes…how did you know?” “Ah just right now! I just surprised you! You see, human emotions aren’t that hard to stimulate. You just need to understand which emotion is which. But don’t worry. You’ll get used it soon. Also, thank you for speaking first.”

You felt surprised yet once again. You got thanked for speaking… it was peculiar and overwhelming but you could even dare to say that you liked the feeling of tying all of these emotions being put in action. Your new teacher smiled softer until she spoke again, “Now follow me! It’s time to meet your family member! Here, you are assigned to a sibling. You both will play, have meals together, and hold conversations much like families in real life.” She pauses to take a quick look at her clipboard and continued, “Ah yes, your assigned family member is number 3! I see you go by the Japanese translation, but number 3 will be the Korean translation ‘Set’. Set is a male so looks like you have gained a brother!”

You decided to speak up softly, “May I ask a question?” The woman stared at you, wrote something down again, and answered, “Yes, of course!” Looking away from the clipboard but continued to write as you spoke, “Why are different translations used to refer Set and I’s numbers?” “There will actually be ten of you coming to phase two in total, numbers eight through ten will be arriving tomorrow. They will all have different translations for their numbers as well. I know you all learned multiple languages during your phase one training so it will help increase brain activity by mixing in different languages for daily use. At least that is what Boss Zang insisted. Honestly, it doesn’t make much sense to me but we just go with it,” ending her blurb with a wink. “Now, come on! Let’s go meet your brother!”

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You felt the water in your shower turning cold, indicating that it was probably time for you to get out.

Brother…...you had a brother. Set? You couldn’t remember what happened to him…. but now’s not the time to ponder upon it. It’s nearing 8 p.m. so you quickly dry your hair, pulling it up into a high ponytail with two shorter strands of hair framing the sides of your face perfectly. You decided to wear some makeup with a darker shade of eyeshadow that accentuated your eye color more. Opening your wardrobe, you sorted and changed into a short black satin dress and leather jacket, that matched with your heeled black thigh high boots. You open another wardrobe that wasn’t for your clothes but the inside filled with various sorts of weaponry.

It’s a jazz club…it’ll be loud but not loud enough to use a gun. You could always put a silencer on, but it was honestly a hassle to carry. Ultimately, you decided on two shorter blades that laid on your forearms, hidden well by your leather jacket. Although you exceeded in any weapon, you still exceeded with blades a little more. It was easy to carry, silent to kill, and easier to aim with the contact being closer. You didn’t think you would need it but you also decided to wear a thigh holster carrying your pistol, that hid underneath your dress just enough. It’s good to take precautions... You took one last look in the mirror, before heading out. Not too much, yet bold enough to charm people as you walk by. Perfect.

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Your heels clacked as you walked down the dimly lit alleyway, feeling the chilly wind sweep across the sides of your neck and thighs. You stopped, finally reaching to the bright illuminated sign of your destination placed on the wall of the brick building that read, “Fellaz”. The structure of the wall was old, to say the least. The bricks were definitely run down that seemed to be barely clinging to its assigned spot and the two metal doors that was seemingly intimidating in size. You pulled the handle on one of the doors, ignoring the sudden contact with the cold metal on the palm of your hand, and smoothly walked in. The door closed behind you, its heavy weight allowing it to do so automatically. However, instead of entering a room, you were only met with a stairway that led directly downstairs, immediately noticing a surveillance camera planted on the ceiling that was directly facing towards the entrance. Without hesitating, you began to walk down the steps, smelling a faint aroma of coffee and hearing the subtle sounds of brass instruments. Stepping your final step, you were surprised to see a modern chic cafe that contrasted greatly from the outer appearance of the building you saw only a few minutes ago. You examined the interior and were immediately connected with jazz music that came from the four men playing on the center stage at the very back of the room. The right side occupied the drink bar that was attended by a bartender, smalls candles were lit positioned on top of the round dining tables that were placed sporadically across the rest of the remaining area. Yunho was nowhere to be found, but you still had roughly 30 hours left to accomplish your task so there wasn’t any need to worry. You usually gather more information on the beginning portion of your timeframe, taking in the lifestyle they lived in completely,  and then finish them accordingly. Which is what you’re about to do as you sat on one of the unoccupied stools at the drink bar counter, the bartender smiling at you as you took your seat. He was handsome, really handsome. His blonde hair that swept over his forehead defined his strong facial features beautifully. “Scotch on the rocks, thank you,” you placed your order as you gave a small charming smile back.

“Ah, you must be new here. I’m sorry, we don’t sell alcohol, just coffee.”

“No alcohol? at a club?”

The bartender chuckled, “Yeah, I know. Strange right? My friend actually opened this place. Something about wanting people to appreciate music to the full capacity while being sober…blah blah blah….but I think it’s just because he’s a lightweight.” You chuckled at the bartender’s straightforward remark over his friend, “Well then, I would like an iced americano, um-“

“Seonghwa. Call me Seonghwa, and one iced americano on the house for?-“

“y/n, thank you.” With that, Seonghwa gave you a quick wink and started working on the espresso machine. Very flirtatious, you noted. It didn’t take long for Seonghwa to hand you your beverage since everyone that was sitting at the bar left to join the dining area. You nodded your head to thank him, getting ready to speak until Seonghwa beat you to it. “So y/n, what’s a charming young lady such as yourself doing at a small unknown jazz club like Fellas,” he asked as he took a sip of his own latte. You took a sip of your own drink before answering, “Ah, I have a strong love for music so my coworker recommended me this place. I’m glad I came. The place is beautiful and the musicians are extremely skilled.”  You weren’t exactly lying. The sounds of the instruments that reached to your ear calmed and soothed you completely despite what you’re going to do in the next day or two. Seonghwa nodded in understanding as he looked towards the stage fondly where the four men continued to play, “I agree. I’m honestly really proud to call them my friends.” “Is that so? Tell me more about them,” you leaned forward to show your interest.

“Hmm let’s see. The one playing the drums with the ash hair is Wooyoung. He’s almost as loud as he plays, but you can tell he’s passionate about everything he does. The tall one playing the saxophone is Mingi, he told me he first started to play the sax since he was in elementary. The one with the dark hair with red highlights playing the piano, that’s San. He seems really serious right now, but he’s actually a really cheerful guy. He’s only ever this serious if he’s ever in the zone. And then lastly, the one playing the violin, that’s Jongho. He’s the youngest out of our friend group and he actually sings really well. He’s almost too talented even though he’s the youngest.”

As Seonghwa finished his description, you could evidently see how much he adored them. “You said your friend group…are there more who also plays like them?”

“Oh no, there’s actually eight of us in total. Half plays while the other half simply appreciates the music,” Seonghwa said while laughing. You shared your laugh with him until a voice caught both you and Seonghwa’s attention. Your heart sped up slightly when you turned to see who it was. “Excuse me miss, is this seat taken-“ he asked in a lulling tone. “No, please go ahead,” you answered as you made eye contact, taking a full view of his face and soft yet prominent features.

It’s Yunho.

Yunho smiled upon your approval as he sat next to you and then looked at Seonghwa who was already looking at him, “Hey, hyung. Who’s this?”

“This is our newcomer, y/n.”

“Newcomer, huh?” Yunho questioned. You could feel his curiosity. They knew each other… You looked between the two men and asked, “Are you both acquainted with each other?”

“Yeah, this is actually one of the guys in our friend group that I talked about earlier,” Seonghwa answered and Yunho immediately looked at you.

“You both talked about me, huh?”

You would think he was suspicious but you couldn’t sense that aura coming from him…only his strong and confident presence that probed you, making you want to leave the scene but you continued, “Yeah, I’ve heard you also admire music? Seonghwa and I talked about how wonderful this place is-“

“Really? That’s fantastic,” Yunho said while cutting you off, the words he spoke not matching with the sarcastic tone in his voice. You tried to fight off throwing a glare at his domineering attitude but he continued, “So that explains why you’re sitting here, by yourself on a Tuesday night being nosy and snatching information from my good friend here? Because of your love for the aesthetics and music hmm?” You accidentally slipped away from your composure for a moment and shot a venomous glare at him until you caught yourself. You never lose your composure. Especially not by a couple of cheap words but Yunho’s spiteful demeanor was truly testing you. Yunho also looked at you with cold eyes, fully aware that he was pissing you off to the point where you lost it for a split second. “Guys please not at the cafe… Yunho, the boss said to welcome her, not piss her off,” Seonghwa scolded at Yunho, the tone of his voice changing slightly as well. Boss…he said, boss... This was a trap and you had to get out of there. Within that short moment, many scenarios ran through your head, trying to calculate which would outcome your survival. Should you kill them both now? But if you do, there’s still four of their men still waiting behind you on the center stage. They continued to play their instruments but you could undoubtedly feel their attention on the three of you. Plus, this is their territory…who knows how many more people that are sitting in the dining area are actually disguised as one of them, or worse, all of them. Yunho was resting his head on his propped hand, looking completely unfazed. Maybe you could at least strike the both of them and exit just fast enough- “Will you relax? I can sense you’re overwhelmed but it’s overwhelming me too,” Yunho spoke cutting the silence, his words not matching his actions yet once again. “We’ve been told that we’re not allowed to kill-“

Now.

You swung both of your arms, sliding your blades out within only a split second. Yunho was startled slightly but moved just as fast and grabbed both of your arms that was aiming to slice both Yunho and Seonghwa’s neck, restricting your movements. You grazed Yunho’s cheek, blood slowly trickling down his cheek but he managed to stop your other arm just in time before it was only a centimeter away from reaching Seonghwa’s artery. Yunho maintained his hold on your arms, still immobilizing you. His face only a few inches away but his cold eyes reached yours even deeper. His voice husky and lowered an entire octave, “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted… we’re not allowed to kill you but I just might considering I don’t remember the last time I followed rules-“

“Yunho, stop,” Seonghwa said, completely unaffected. Yunho, clearly angry, raised his voice, “Hyung, this bitch cut my cheek which by the way, wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t have to look after your ass too.” Seonghwa chuckled at his last remark, “You know I’m not the fastest.” Then Seonghwa turned to you and smiled, “Forgive Yunho. He has his moods sometimes, but he means no disrespect-“

“She tried to kill us, so why can’t we kill her?” Yunho said emphasizing each word full of spite, but he knew he wouldn’t receive an answer from Seonghwa so he turned to face you again, “Tell your bastard of a boss, that we don’t want or need you on our team.”

Wait, what..? What did he mean by on their team…?

Your thoughts were cut off when your phone suddenly rang. By the specific ringtone, you could tell it was your boss calling you. You knew Yunho wasn’t letting go of your arms any time soon so you brought your foot up and kicked him directly at his crotch. Yunho immediately winced in pain, freeing your arms, with Seonghwa trying to stabilize him stretching his arms over the counter. You turned around heard Yunho in the background cursing at you and swearing that he’s going to end your life but you ignored him and answered your call, “Boss.”

“Retreat your mission and come see me immediately. Things have changed...”

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e|n: I hope this chapter wasn’t too confusing because I’ve made some minor changes (as stated in the beginning) We’ve almost officially met all of the members! I hope you’ll continue to read to see Nana meeting all of them. You’ll definitely see more interaction with the members in the next chapter. If you have any questions or need any clarifications, just ask! Thanks for reading and please leave feedback so I’ll know where I can improve :)

[kuh-boose]

Hey, more writing crap because it’s been sitting in my files for forever now and that’s no way to have your writing. I am no Emily Dickinson. This was written like years ago for the TMNT Universe and just never really came to anything. Audrey has had a lot of changes made to her and ideas for her have been lent to a lot of my other characters. I think was my honest to goodness first real OC and I have so much written for her. Anywho, here. 

She came from a facility out of Manhattan. Created from two hundred and seven different gene donors, all varied species, and all very unwilling. But it was the two hundred and seventh donor that made her different from her siblings. She disconnected from her growth tank a month too early, and she was born three pounds, one ounce and fragile as an egg, with a complexion to match. The Kraang and Dr. Steele placed her survival odds at .037%.  Rather than put the poor thing out of its misery, they decided to run tests on her as she stumbled her way towards death.

  The problem with that was she wasn't ready to die. She didn't get much better, but the tiny, pale, sick, and squirming infant refused to die. Fussing day and night, weak and quiet, but furious, she took every last inch of that .037%. For the first two years of her life she had needles and tubes sticking out of her skin every few inches or so, scanners running her vitals and brain patterns constantly, projecting them on the screens that surrounded the little silvery pod she was kept in, with the inside glowing a burning fuchsia. Every day the pod infused her with the necessary elements and compounds to keep her alive and jolted her with minuscule electric currents to stimulate her muscles. It was painful, but it was all she knew, and so she stayed in the pod for two years before she made a single sound. It wasn't a babble, or a scream, or even a cry; it was a quiet, broken word. A Kraang word, and it meant release. It went largely unnoticed, gaining only a second of attention and no response. No response save for a small gasp from the mutated form of Jorge Koroko.

 Jorge Koroko was a human, at one point at least. He had been raised first in in Japan, then in America by his mother's family, and he lived his life knowing that his father was scum from some vague European country, and his teenage mother died to bring him into this world. His grandfather loved his child more than anything in the world, and loved her child even more. Refusing to make the same, coddling mistake, Mr.Koroko was somewhat harsh on his grandson. He trained him every day in his own modified mix of martial arts for a decade and a half, despite his family's quiet disapproval. By the time his training was complete, Jorge was old enough to enlist in the army; one tour and he started medical school. Eleven years later and he was on his way to the airport to begin a third tour. It was on his way to the gate with a bag in one hand and cheap food in the other that he had his run in with the Kraang. The conflict, along with a faulty good luck bracelet his grandmother had weaved from bulls hair, lead to his mutation. In the following confusion, an eight foot tall, hulking bovine version of Jorge was ushered into a van and taken captive by the same aliens that would keep him for the next twenty-eight years. Only through good behavior and clever speaking did he become one of very few mutations they allowed to help in the many tasks that came with running the facilities, namely security and clean up. It just so happened that he ended up in the same facility that would splice Subject Venus-207.

  Project Venus was one of many, many brainchildren conceived by Dr. Amanda Steele. After the successful splicing of their robotic gorillas, the Kraang gave Steele whatever tools she desired to continue a number of projects, with the understanding that said projects were to only be useful to the Kraang. Project Venus was Steele's pride and joy. The splicing of hundreds of species into various--human looking--young women to act as spies among the human population; sleeper agents, whose only purpose was to blend in and gather information until the Invasion. Then her daughters would wreak havoc, pulling any hiding citizens from their homes and reducing hundreds of years of human achievement to rubble. Unfortunately, due to dominance in various alien races genes, nearly five hundred of her seven hundred children did not make it past the second trimester. Another hundred appeared more amphibian than human, and could only be used and raised as sub-par warriors and slaves, whom the Kraang would not use, but sell to the highest bidding race. Of the remaining hundred, ninety-eight died at various stages of life of failing organs, and the ninety-ninth disappeared seven years later, along with Steele. The very last was 207, removed from her tank early after tangling herself in her substitute umbilical cord, and the only one left the Kraang had at their disposal. She was weak and useless, but experience had taught them better than to toss her away. Waste not, want not.

  And so everyday, for a little over two years, Jorge Koroko watched Venus-207 grow in her tiny little pod. He would hear her heartbeat, far too quick and weak. He would listen to her breathe in her harsh and labored way. He would watch her writhe and fuss silently until her face went red and she was pumped with a mild sedative to relax her until her next fit. For two years he watched her grow and fight death. On her first birthday, he gave her a name.

 He crouched low next to her tank, fainting cleaning up a spill of chemicals, and whispered, "Your name is Audrey now. You hear me? None of that Venus stuff. Audrey. She was a strong lady I met in service. Pretty too, like you."

  He placed a hoof-knuckled hand on the pod and Audrey responded in kind with a heavy huff of filtered air.

  "Good girl."

  On her second birthday, he gave her freedom, or... at least freedom from the pod. He convinced the Kraang that he could train her. Koroko, as he had learned to do, spun the request into a favor; he could make her a weapon, he promised. For who, he never specified.

But then, they never asked.

For better or worse they agreed. Perhaps they were tired of waiting for her to die. Perhaps they believed him when he said he could make her a weapon. Maybe they just wanted to laugh at him, or whatever Kraang did to show amusement, as he tried to train the pathetic little red faced twerp. Whatever the reason, they gave him a small section of the facility, which included an old fire station and its underground connection to the main construct. They supplied him with whatever he asked so long as he could prove it had to do with her training and could not harm the facility. And then they moved her. When they removed her from the pod and placed her on the bed in the loft of the fire station, Jorge began to have doubts. She gasped and clutched her throat and whimpered when the tubes were removed. Her whole body was covered in small welts, and bruises bloomed like spring flowers everywhere she was touched. Her body was so tender, and the Kraang were not known for their gentle nature. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, which were half closed and bloodshot. The only thing that gave him hope was the fact that she was squirming, grunting here and there when a metallic hand clamped too tight, or a tube was yanked out too harsh. She laid, struggling, on the bed for a day before she started trying to get up. Koroko began to reach for her, but stopped. It was in that moment he decided he must stay detached. She would gain nothing from babying, and her survival was still not guaranteed. It was best for both of them if he remained a Master, and not a guardian… at least for now. At least until the fear that this was a mistake, one he would never come back from, subsided. So he leaned back into his chair and watched her struggle desperately to rise, the arms of the chair crunching under his grip. She managed only to roll onto her side. Jorge sighed and made a mental note to request mild steroid injections for her until he could build her strength up enough so that she would be at the physical level of a girl her age. Time in the pod had done her no favors, and she was far too weak. He fell asleep silently praying that she die quickly if she must, and listening to her huffing and rustling in the bed.

  The next morning he would find her trying to climb back onto it.

  Three years of training and Audrey still looked scrawny and ill, with dark circles under her eyes and pale skin stretched over near meatless bones. Koroko was forced to realize that she didn’t have the same benefits naturally made beings did. She didn’t know when she needed water, when she was hungry, when she needed to sleep; what he considered intense pain was a little more than a minor sensation to her, and fear was hard to provoke, leading to more than a few nasty scars. She was still showing heartbreaking symptoms of her faulty creation. Sickly pale skin, fits of choking and gasping, vomiting, and more. And yet, despite her tiny and helpless appearance, Audrey was strong. Or muscularly efficient, rather. Just five years old and underweight, yet her tests put her with athletic six year olds. This alone gave Koroko hope, enough to express his pride to an uninterested Kraang droid. ‘Like a calf, she is, running on those tiny little legs. Clumsy too, but strong.’

  He worked her harder and changed her diet. Three hours of her day was devoted to eating as much as she could fit, twelve hours were spent fitfully sleeping, and every other second was spent working. She trained until she couldn't stand, and then she trained her mind. She worked on being in each moment, on being in tune with her surroundings and using them to her advantage. She learned about the Kraang computers and inventions, the earthly and alien creatures that made up her own DNA, and struggled horribly to learn about human literature, language, military history, chemistry and physics, mathematics, psychology, physiology. And then she got up again and did exercises until her muscles gave out and refused to move no matter how hard she willed them to work for her.

  Koroko worked through her stubbornness and endless questions. She fought every step of every lesson and took severe punishment like treats, silently refusing any method but the one she found ideal. He taught her each new subject with wariness in how she would use it to find loopholes in the rules he had placed for her own safety, and found the more he pulled, the more she resisted. With time, he broke her code. She needed objectives and tools, not plans. So he pushed her to her limits, and pushed her past them. She learned to fight as she retreated, when the odds were against her, when it was too easy, or when it was too hard. She learned how to fight hard and how to fight stealthily and how to fight smart. She learned how to fight when the enemy couldn't be touched, or even seen. Kelli developed balance, power, speed, endurance. There was no mercy, no breaks, no rest that wasn't necessary. Jorge ground and pounded and drilled into her for years, over and over until she couldn't remember a time when she didn't fall into immediate stances, or swing perfectly without thinking about it. She didn't recall a time when she couldn't fight droids with her eyes closed and rely on hearing and muscle memory to win. He made her push her thresholds, her mental limits. He broke her down to rubble, and then made her build herself back up.

  It didn't take very long before he found he couldn't break her down anymore.

 And in time, Jorge discovered that even though she was made to be ruthless, she was kind, and thoughtful, determined, and loyal, if a little rough around the edges. He noticed her willingness to put up with unkind treatment without snapping. Even when she was hurting, she was kind. Audrey was always polite, and took his lessons on respect and courtesy to heart. She devoured his tales of heroes and kindness with eager ears. Koroko found that more than anything, she believed in herself and her own abilities, perhaps to a fault. She would happily face any challenge presented, and not stop until she won, even if she had to win with bruises and broken bones. He waited fearfully for the day when that confidence would not be enough and her body would not take the punishment she demanded it to.

  It was because of this, because of her performance in spars with the imprisoned mutations, that made the Kraang finally pay attention to her. At ten years, they began to take more of her time with surgeries, tests, faux operations, anything to try and break her in some sick way. Koroko watched her carefully, waiting for her to turn into the blood thirsty killer he had promised them. But each time she returned, beaten and bloody, she smiled, shining her happiness at him for having won and asking for the next lesson.

  Three more years of training, with frequent "operations" to the outside world, and Audrey was more than Jorge had ever hoped. Five foot with lean, highly efficient, solid muscle from head to toe and a right hook that could bring down concrete. She was stronger, every movement easy, and every skill honed to a razor edge, though there was still work to be done, she was more progressed than he had thought she would be. Missions in other countries and dimensions tanned her skin to a richer shade, deepening to a milky caramel color, marked by freckles and the dozens of scars ranging from slashes, to plasma burns, to surgery incisions. Her hair had grown out and was thick and shiny and a golden honey color down to the middle of her back, for he had convinced her to keep it long. Her face was somehow sharp and soft at the same time, with dark brown, almond shaped eyes that gave away nothing but deep determination. Behind them he saw a spark just as he had thirteen years ago. She was not the smartest, but she was far from dumb, and made up for what she lacked with quick wit and battle prowess. He could not be more proud.

  He carried this pride to the day he died. It was illness that took him, giving it's warning months in advance before the Kraang froze both him and Audrey. They separated them, and he knew, though he could not tell you how, that he would never see his dear girl again. He also knew he could never be angry for the fate given to him.

[flexi-lexi]

(/ω＼)ﾟ.+(〃ﾉωﾉ)ﾟ.+°50 More Interesting Questions

Rules: fill this out and tag at least one person you’d like to know more about! Or just fill it out! Or don’t! Answer only some of them! Make up your own questions! “What kind of requirement is that”, you ask? A reasonable one! Who am I to tell you what to do? Anything goes!

tagged by: NO ONE BUT @matsujunkie WANTS TO KNOW MORE ABOUT RANDOS SO HERE WE GO

1. What kind of food can’t you stand?: Bland food--unseasoned, monochromatic, flavorless food. Like, I legit feel a specific kind of depression when I eat flavorless food.

2. If you could choose one minor inconvenience to never have to deal with again, what would you pick?: Commuting to work because it’s such a waste of time. The dream is to walk across the street and just be at work, that’d be amazing tbh

3. Have you got any useless talents?:  I can type at like 94wpm lmao

4. If you could be really really good at one thing, what would it be?:  Public speaking--the sheer power behind good public speaking skills and general charisma is not to be underestimated.

5. Name a few people you think are extremely good-looking:  My bf let’s be real Also Emma Watson, Jay Park, T.O.P, Chris Pratt, Ryan Gosling, and Eiza González

6. What was your favorite way to pass the time as a kid?:  I played, played, PLAYED all fuckin day. When I lived in my house in the Philippines, I felt like I always had a million things to do--I’m playing kickball in my garage, I’m playing dolls with my sister, I’m playing pretend chef with my mom, so many things. And when I think I’ve run out of things to do, I’ll just watch cartoons lol

7. What is something you’re proud of?:  I’m extremely proud of my family, especially my parents who worked extremely hard and overcame so much struggle so that my siblings and I could have a brighter future. 

8. What’s one character flaw in people that you just can’t tolerate?:  Lack of basic compassion and consideration for others

9. Do you consider yourself to be more of a leader or a follower?:  I don’t often consider myself a leader, but people have always said I exude the qualities of one. I’ll only be a leader if a group needs a leader. Otherwise, I don’t think I’ve ever been a follower, I’m more of a collaborator.

10. What kind of student are/were you?:  I consider myself painfully average only because I hold myself to a painfully high standard. I think I did relatively well in high school and college, but I was always very hard on myself in high school for not getting straight A’s or not going straight to a reputable university. I’ve learned to ease up on myself in college. Instead, I learned how to be the laziest overachiever possible in college. My motto was, “What is the least amount of work I can do to still get an A- in this class???” lmao

11. Butterfly effect question! Has there ever been a seemingly minor decision you’ve made (at the time) that ended up having a profound influence on your life?: When I decided to sit next to some goody-two-shoes looking girl in 5th grade (lowkey because I was also a goody-two-shoes and I knew she wouldn’t judge me). We’ve been best friends for 15 years.

12. Name your most irrational fear/aversion:  Cockroaches and the dark

13. Are there any fictional characters you find especially relatable?:  As much as she annoys me, Sakura from Naruto is probably the most relatable character because she’s someone who has so much potential but struggled so much to become a better version of herself. She annoyed me in her early days because she was so useless but I think that quality in her annoyed me so much because I’m also kinda useless and I hate that about myself haha

14. If you drink, what kind of drunk are you? Alternatively, what sort of person are you at parties?:  I’m the social butterfly drunk; I suddenly become an extrovert and I’m just annoying af because I just scream my words at everyone. Alternatively, sober me is typically a recluse at parties--I will hang out with my phone, anyone I actually know, or the resident pet. Which is why I tend to drink at parties--I take the term “social lubricant” quite literally.

15. Do you fall in love easily? Or does it usually take a long time for you to trust someone?: Yes, it’s the absolute fucking worst. I hate it. I have a tendency to give people the benefit of the doubt, but I’m trying to lower my expectations of people bit by bit until it’s at a safe level where I can look out for myself.

16. Would you rather have one close friend or 100 casual friends?: 1 close friend, 200%

17. Do you consider yourself to be more of a slob or a neat-freak?:  I am a neat-freak at heart and my dream is to stay that way, but I’m also a really lazy person who can’t be bothered to pick up after myself until something’s been on the floor for 5 months and I start to notice it again.

18. Describe a place (imaginary or real) that you would find incredibly cozy:  A porch on a gloomy October day facing an autumn forest. Alternatively, the same porch but on an early July morning when the sun is just creeping up.

19. Do you have kids? If not, do you want them someday?:  No kids. I’m very wishy washy about kids. I tell myself I don’t want kids, but I still think about it every once in a while. Most recently I think I’ve been having baby fever because I keep imagining what my child would look like if I had one with my bf and what kind of personality he or she would have and how they would call me as their mom (mommy? ma? nay? mi? who knows) and how cool my kid would be if I could get it to speak English, Tagalog, and Korean. I don’t know if this is just a phase or if it will only get worse and more insistent as I get older...

20. What was your favorite book as a child?:  The Thief Lord by Cornelia Funke

21. Name one thing you just don’t get what all the hype is about:  Juicing??? Why are people so into juice and like expensive af juice??

22. Name one thing that you think is tragically underrated:  lol free education

23. If you had to be glued to a person for a month, real or fictional (who you have never met), who would you choose?:  Probably my papa’s grandpa, Alex Sr. Three generations named after him and I don’t know a thing about him, who he was or what he looked like.

24. What’s something you’d like the chance to do someday?:  Save a life

25. Do you typically speak your mind when you have a controversial opinion? Or do generally prefer to not rock the boat?:  I generally prefer not to rock the boat. I wish I was more straightforward, but the reason why I’m not is because I tend to get very emotional over things on which I have a strong opinion, and that doesn’t help me state my case at all. I think I’m learning to be more outspoken, though, especially because certain things just touch a nerve with me.

26. What’s the dumbest fad you’ve been caught up in?:  My entire middle school life and parts of my high school life was a dumb fad tbh lol

27. What’s something you thought was cool as a kid/adolescent, but now cringe at yourself for?:  Being punk/emo lmao

28. What’s a trait you consider to be very admirable?:  Conviction; the ability to stand up for what you believe in

29. Is there a particular kind of item people always tend to give you as gifts? (For instance, people always get you things with ducks on them because you like ducks, etc.):  I guess it depends on the person or my situation? Like, my bf always gives me necklaces and he needs to stop my parents always give me furniture and household items because I’m always too poor to buy my own. But overall I don’t think I get any one particular gift on the regular...

30. Do you speak multiple languages? Which ones?:  If by “speak” you mean “learned and know subconsciously but too afraid to practice,” then yes I speak multiple languages aside from English: Tagalog, Japanese, and Italian. I really want to learn Korean next, but where to find time and money......

31. Would you rather live in the big city or the countryside?:  Probably the big city because I’ve always been a city girl and I easily get bored without stimulation. But I also tend to get irritated by excessive noise and hubub, so if I could get a suburb that’s closer to the city side (where there’s more to do than just eat burgers, watch movies, and go bowling), then yeah that’d be awesome.

32. Has there ever been something you were certain you’d hate, but ended up loving?:  The book All Quiet on the Western Front. I saw clips of the film adaptation in high school and thought it was the most boring thing in the world. But then I had to read the book in college and it nearly brought me to tears.

33. Do you mind being the center of attention, or do you prefer the spotlight to be on someone else?:  In my imagination, I crave attention and want to be the center of it. But irl I push that shit away because when the attention is on me I become awkward.

34. Favorite holiday?:  Christmas

35. Are you a more go-with-the-flow type of person, or do you need to have things planned meticulously?:  I think in my heart I’m a Type B, spontaneous, go-with-the-flow type of person, but when I try to be that way I just get anxiety because my mind is too Type A to allow it to happen.

36. Is there something you loved so much you wish you could forget it and experience it all over again? (A tv show, book, series–anything.):  Italy, hands down.

37. What hobbies do you have?:  lol i hate this question because i’m reminded of how boring i am as a person watching TV, listening to music, reading, cooking, practicing makeup (a.k.a. watching makeup tutorials all day), occasional exercise, karaoke, eating, spending time with family

38. If you could have a superpower, but it was only mildly useful, what ability would you want to have?:  I really want to fucking fly but if it’s only “mildly useful” does that I mean my power will fail from time to time??? Because I am absolutely not down to fall at any point. So I guess invisibility? Because the power itself is mildly useful--what the fuck am I gonna do with it? Eavesdrop? Become a voyeur??

39. Something people are always surprised to learn about you:  It varies. 1) That I’m into cars (because people assume that girls aren’t interested in cars???) 2) That I’m a nerd (because I’ve learned to keep it on the DL lol) 3) That I wasn’t born here lmao (because apparently my English is “so good” lol bye)

40. Something that took you way too long to figure out:  That things pretty much never happen that way you plan or hope, but that things still somehow always fall into place.

41. Worst injury you’ve had?: All of my major injuries occurred when I was just a baby so I have no recollection of any of it. I think the worst was when a cookie jar fell and smashed on my tender two-year-old cranium lol

42. Any morbid fascinations?: Sure, maybe old-timey b&w crime scene photos, especially the super gruesome ones because when it’s b&w it’s somehow less nauseating to look at.  I also love “true” ghost stories and reading creepypastas and shit, even though I know it could potentially keep me up at night. Strangely enough, despite these fascinations, I still hate horror films. Go figure.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

43. Describe your sense of humor:  Lots of slapstick, good deal of self-deprecation, a little bit of sarcasm. Bonus: I have a great appreciation for dry humor, but I can’t do dry humor.

44. If you had to be born in another era/place, which would you choose?  As a historian, as much as I admire certain eras, I know better than to ask to be born in a time when I’m way more likely to contract polio or the bubonic plague or be enslaved by Spaniards. I also thoroughly enjoy modern conveniences such as running water and grocery stores LOL I think I want to be born in the ‘80s in the U.S. so I can experience the joy, excitement, and prosperity of the ‘90s in the U.S. It seems like a very minute difference given that I was born in ‘92, but I feel like I’ve missed out on a lot of the ‘90s because I was way too young to appreciate it.

45. Something you are irredeemably bad at:  ~ S P O R T S ~

46. Something that sucked but you’re glad you went through:  Being kicked out of the house lmao Forreal tho, it was an extremely tough and humbling experience, but I’m really happy to be independent. Strangely enough, I feel like I have a much greater sense of love and appreciation for my parents now that they’re not always breathing down my neck LOL

47. Would you rather have a really godawful ugly tattoo in a place that is only slightly inconvenient to conceal with clothing (upper arm, thigh, etc.), or the coolest, most beautiful tattoo ever in the middle of your face? (Neither tattoo can be removed or concealed with makeup, and the ugly tattoo will deeply offend anyone who sees it.):  Ugly tattoo in an inconvenient place. Because imho a tattoo in the middle of my face, regardless of the level of artistry, is an ugly tattoo anyway, and it’s one that I'll have a harder time concealing.

48. Are you more of an optimist or a pessimist?:  I’d like to think of myself as an optimist but I think I come off as a pessimist. Does that makes me a realist? I don’t know but I just told my bf to stop buying lottery tickets because he never wins. You tell me what that makes me lol

49. What would be the most flattering compliment someone could give you?:  If someone ever told me I was “cool.” Because I’ve lived my whole life never thinking I was ever “cool.” Not “cool” as in “I want everyone to like me,” but “cool” like the way I look at someone who has accomplished something that changed the world or someone who stood their ground and gave no fucks about what others thought or someone with a fabulous and unique sense of style. If someone ever told me I was “cool,” to me it means they see something in me that’s admirable or even enviable, and I can’t even begin to fathom how they see those things in me but wow ok yeah cool I’ll take it thank you

50. Something you feel people often misunderstand about you:  Over the years I’ve put up a front of being super happy-go-lucky, even though I’m actually not like that 100% of the time. So on days when I just don’t feel like engaging with people, people just assume I’m angry or sad about something like no I just don’t wanna talk to people rn bye

Tagging: anyone who wants to open up to me, @me because i find these things fascinating as hell

[sharynashleybachleda]

The Paradox of Choice | Origin

Indecisiveness

Multiple choices

One of every color

Small, Medium, Large

First world problems

What should I do with these things?

I might need that later

Just in case

You never know what will happen

Right?

..

We live in a world constantly stimulated by choices, whether they are mental/emotional or having to do with physical things. 

I’m guilty of falling into the trap of “what if” and “But I might need this later”

So how did I get here?

I’d like to say I know what it’s like not to have much.. but the thing is, the love language of my family is the opposite. I grew up with lots of things. Nice things, big things, small knick knacks. I was lucky and didn’t know what it felt like to struggle until my adult life.. and even now, I have people who look out for me and won’t let me hit rock bottom and I’m eternally grateful for that.

But something that has been heavy on my heart lately is.. STUFF

As an artist, I see beauty just about everywhere when I look.

I see potential in almost everything. Someone else’s trash is someone else’s treasure, so they say. For years now, I’ve been guilty of borderline hoarding things.. but mainly clothes and art supplies. It’s to the point where I’m so tempted to just give most of it away and save the things I keep returning to, the things that ADD value to my life, and get rid of the DISTRACTIONS.

I grew up in a very distracting household. From an early age, I had a hard time throwing things away because all I wanted to do was “make stuff” and “repurpose it”... I made dolls out of beads, wire and clay. I started making my own doll clothes. I recycles just about every box and turned it into either a doll house or some type of fort (but I guess that’s pretty kid-normal, right?)

I’ll be honest, I was spoiled. 

My father grew up an only child with an abusive mother who only knows how to show her love by giving “things” to people. Naturally, this rubbed off. He worked most of my life and most of the memories with him are on holidays and birthdays or when I’d come home to a new thing he bought me. I realize this is his love language and I’m grateful that he cares enough to keep me in his life, despite our VERY REAL differences. He will never understand what it’s like to be an artist, just like I’ll never understand what it’s like to have been a narcotics cop and think Trump “isn’t so bad”... (I’m not going to let myself get into a tangent on this one just yet though)

My mother grew up with two siblings, being the middle child. From her stories, she’s always had a bit of a hard time conforming. I think that’s where I get it from. She didn’t grow up with very much and learned at a young age to fend for herself. Even though I grew up with “things” and my mother around to care for me, I also learned at a young age to not rely on others. If I wanted to do something, I did it. I’m still that way. I don’t wait for “friends” to tag along. For the most part, If I want to go somewhere, it doesn’t occur to me to even ask someone to join. I’m just a recluse I guess.. but I can get along really well with people and have formed some amazing connections over the years and I’m eternally grateful for those. 

The thing both of my parents have in common, possibly the only thing, is that they know sacrifice. I understand that I won’t understand this type of sacrifice until and IF I have a child. My father is one of those entrepreneurs who can figure out how to build just about anything without using a blueprint. He, too, has learned not to rely on others. In his experience, it’s mostly held him back because he wants things done “the right way” and since he’s not very good with words or explaining the picture in his mind, he can’t really show or tell someone how to do something and thus gets frustrated when someone lets him down. Like myself, he’s gone about most things that he wants to do alone. Maybe that’s where I get it from. 

I acquired many parts of myself from my father but I think more from my mother. It’s funny how this happens unintentionally.. and the more I grow, the more I do something and think “damn, I’m just like my mom”. My mother is the biggest empath I have ever met. Whenever I’ve been through a breakup, I think she’s the one to cry first. (My father is notoriously cold and hard-headed and I will always have a bit of that but lately, I’m becoming a bit more soft). Mom has saved literally every piece of art I’ve ever made and will forever be my biggest fan (thanks, mom). She’s a worry-wart, over-thinks everything and growing up, wouldn’t let me go down the street without packing me a damn cooler. I think this is where I get my “always having to be prepared” thing from. But hell, she really does mean well. She thinks about things most people overlook and notices tiny details that my perfectionist father also notices. Ok so maybe this is another thing they have in common. 

BACK TO MY INTENTION

Ok, so I went off on a few tangents.. but in the end, I’ll get from point A to B

I just might also hit P, E, Q, and Z in between.. (this is another thing I get from my mother.. my ADD-ness and inability to finish a story without starting others)

So, back to how I got here.

Like I said above, I see potential in so many things. I will forever have this child-like quality of seeing magic in wherever I look.. but sometimes that holds me back. I have undoubtedly acquired this part of myself from my mother. She is a pre-school teacher and is wonderful at seeing the beauty in the things that light up a child’s eyes. Sometimes it’s hard to move on when I look around and see all these things that house so many memories, associations, emotions and past-trauma residue (but also sometimes very positive residue). 

This past year, I’ve done a good job at getting rid of the things that don’t aid in my well-being but I still feel like I have a lot of work to do. It’s especially bad when I walk into a Goodwill. So, being an environmentalist (or so I try), I’m very much into sustainable fashion. A: it’s MUCH cheaper to buy used clothes and B: I feel much better not supporting corporations and sweat shops, saving the environment one article of clothing at a time, or something like that.

When I walk into a Goodwill, Salvation Army, consignment shop etc. I always manage to spend at least $20 and leave with a bag full of stuff. However lately, I’ve made a new rule for myself and now for every new article that I buy, I have to get rid of 4 things to balance it out. A lot of the time, I don’t even buy things for myself. (this is where I have acquired my father’s love language of gift-giving)

I’ll see a thing in a store that reminds me of a friend, family member, etc and it adds value to my life to add value to their life (if the thing adds any value at all, that is.. I mean, sometimes it’s just a silly thing I thought would make them laugh for a moment). Or I’ll see that something is worth at least 5 times as much as they’re selling it for and think “omg, I can totally sell that”. This is how I’ve accumulated boxes of “clothes to sell”. At one point, I thought maybe I would get into sustainable vintage fashion and open an online shop. I worked at one for a while and learned that I could totally do it on my own and figured, hell, I can totally do this. Then I realized, this would not fulfill me. I’ve done a few pop-up markets and I love talking to people and seeing people come across unique items that speak to them and watching these items go to new homes but I’ve realized that these “things” aren’t my passion. The only things my passion really requires are my eyeballs, a camera, some film or a paintbrush and something to make a mess on. Even without those things, I have an even better time in nature without them sometimes. Part of being an artist is learning to be content with the magic around you and not trying to impose yourself or ideas onto the world. Sure, some of these ideas may be grand but what I realize is more powerful is the connections in nature and community that form the ideas in the first place. More and more lately I’m realizing that if something is really meant to happen, it will come without force. So, I’m still finding my route in this world but I know that at this point of my life, these clothes and things are just making it harder for me to jump. Jump off into the unknown realm of magic and creation of myself within the world, hopefully inspiring others along the way. All I really want to do is help people see things that have always been in front of them. I want to show them the light on the end of the tunnel within themselves and the possibility of creation. When people say they’re not creative and can’t do art I like to tell them “you were created, you can create.. it’s that simple”.

Upon realizing what I DON’T want to do, I’m now realizing what I need to do to allow myself to jump. 

LET GO

I’ve been making piles of clothes to give to friends and I’m going to do my best to lighten up my load with things that actually add value to my life. There’s nothing wrong with having lots of things, as long as you use those things.. and the more stuff I buy from Goodwill, the more I realize I am not using over half of the other things I own. And naturally, I really do want to help people. There’s a rescue shelter that I used to help my friend donate food to that I’m going to send some of the clothes to. The rest, maybe I can sell in bulk online or something.. (Ideally, I’d love to make more money off of this stuff but it’s to the point where I just have to let fucking go)

Anyways,

I have a lot of choices that surround these things and it takes up so much physical and mental space that I think I’d be much more happy if I could fit everything I loved into my car. 

I’m not going to make that whole leap just yet because, well, I have some large items that I actually use (i.e. a bed, couch, etc) but I’m going to load a few cameras into my bag and a backpack full of my favorite clothes and take a road trip to free myself from this space for a bit. 

My route is TBD but if I don’t do this soon, I’m just going to keep holding myself back.

I’ll probably add to the post and finish up a few thoughts on here later.

[debbieandulics]

Why Dogs Bite

Even if you don’t have a dog you probably know someone who does. It’s very common to have dogs as pets. With so many dogs, it is inevitable to also have dog bites. A lot of people do not realize that most dog bites occur in the home or a familiar place. Most dog bite victims are family or friends and about half of the victims are under the age of 13. Stray dog bites equate to a small percentage of dog bites in spite of it being a popular belief. These facts tell us something; that with education and awareness, many dog bites are preventable.

 More often than not, when a dog bite occurs, the owner exclaims, “my dog has never bitten before” or “there was no warning.” There are many reasons that can cause a dog to bite. Since dogs communicate differently then humans, they cannot directly tell us when they are in pain, scared, or even just stressed out. But they do have body language. And being aware of a situation and observant of a dog’s body language can potentially save someone from being bit. Many people miss these cues a dog displays before a bite.

Actually, the most non-medical dog problem owners seek help for is aggression.

Aggression occurs in wild animals to protect and guard. Animals that live in social groups control interactions and peacekeeping with aggression and dogs fall into this group. “And in truth, biting is a natural and normal means of canine communication and defense.” from Pat Miller’s article “How to Correct a Dog Who Bites” in the Whole Dog Journal. There are certain behaviors that dogs express to show this aggression and they can increase in intensity. According to PetsWebMD, “It can be just milliseconds between a warning and a bite, but dogs rarely bite without giving some type of warning beforehand.”

 Reasons Dogs Bite

Pain:

Any dog in pain can bite. You may know your dog has chronic pain or an injury. In this case, be very careful handling the dog. Even changing a bandage can bring about a bite. Instruct children to stay away from injured areas. If your dog is acting differently or nippy, you should have a Veterinarian check your dog first to rule out any medical conditions. This is even more important when dogs get older since their pain threshold can decrease, they can become less tolerant, and they can also become confused. Don’t assume you would know if your dog is in pain. Illness and injuries can progress quickly and can be much worse by the time there are obvious signs.

Fear:

Dogs can be afraid of people, other dogs or animals, or certain situations. Typically they will exhibit a submissive stance and will avert eye contact and tuck their tails. If a dog has fear aggression (or defensive aggression) they will want to avoid the stressor before becoming defensive. They might show rapid nips as a warning. The fears can range from fear of having feet touched to fear of an abuser. It might take some time but most fearful dogs can be worked with lessen their stress. Another option is to stop putting your dog in the situations that cause the fear. Some dogs are naturally shy but you can help them build confidence.

Maternal

A mother who has just given birth needs to have place where she feels safe. This safe place should have minimal distractions so she can focus on her puppies. Limiting visitors and handling of the puppies is necessary during this time.

 Protective:

Dogs naturally protect members of their pack. When in a family, a dog can become protective of its family members and close friends. Having a protective dog can be desirable but you don’t want it to escalate to the level that you cannot have visitors. This can happen too when there is a new baby in the house. You don’t want your dog to be so protective that relatives can’t come over.

 Territory:

Just like their relatives, dogs often protect their territory. It may be the boundary of your yard but sometimes it can extend further in the dog’s mind. Certain breeds such as German Shepards, Rottweilers, and Akitas are bred for strong territorial traits but sometimes dogs cannot differentiate between a stranger and someone who is welcome. Chaining dogs outside keeps them separate from their family. Since they are highly social, this causes the dog to be highly stressed all the time. Chained dogs that are not properly exercised (pacing in a circle is not exercise) become extremely frustrated and bored. Keeping a dog chained outside is a recipe for disaster. According to the American Humane Association chained dogs are 2.8 times more likely to bite and approximately 25% of fatal dog attacks were from chained dogs.

Frustration:

When dogs get frustrated, they can lash out. If they are too excited but held back, they can become aggressive. They can also start to associate being restrained to frustration. Leash aggression is a common term that explains this perfectly. Some dogs are just fine with other dogs except when they are on a leash.

Possession:

Similar to guarding territory, dogs sometime protect other things they used to have to compete for such as food. It is not uncommon for a dog to growl when a person or another dog comes around when he is eating. But they can also guard toys, bones, pet siblings, and even people. Dominance aggression is when a dog listens to one or more adults but guards items from the rest of the family. This can be worked on but always teach children to leave dogs alone while they are eating or chewing on a bone.

Redirected aggression:

When a dog is over stimulated and displays aggression towards another animal or a human and another person interferes and the interfering person gets bit, this is redirected aggression. The dog becomes fixated and cannot realize you are just trying to help. Your dog is scared at the Vet’s office; you reach down to comfort your dog but get bit instead. This is redirected aggression and not personal at all. The bite was the result of a chain of events the dog couldn’t control. You can eliminate the stressor by checking in and waiting with your dog in the car next time.

Incessant teasing a dog beyond its limits is another way to get someone bit. Children and even some adults are guilty of pokes and prods, putting things in a dogs face or on them. These things can push even the friendliest dog to say “NO” the only way they know how. Also, excessive punishment should never be used and can easily make get you bit.

There are some other factors such as breed, genetics, temperament, and the amount and kind of socialization the dog had.

Dog Bite warning signs:

Dog becomes very stiff and still

Ears laid back

Direct intense eye contact

Hackles raised (the fur along their back but this doesn’t always mean aggression)

Yawing can also indicate stress

Lunging

Growling

Snarling (growling while showing teeth)

Snapping

 Dog bite prevention begins at home. People who are responsible dog owners will learn what they can and make adjustments to decrease the risk of a dog bite. It’s not that there are only good dogs or bad dogs, it is much more complex than that. Dogs can have good days and bad days just like us. How long does it take you to calm down after a stressful altercation? Why do we expect our dogs to brush it off instantly? Why do we correct them for growling? This is how they tell us they are stressed and something needs to change. Start paying close attention to your dog’s body language and how it changes under different situations. Exercise and play are important components for a happy healthy dog. This also is a way to get out excess energy that won’t then turn into frustrated nervous energy, plus it strengthens your bond. Training and socialization are also important. However, choose your trainer well as some recommend fear and submission with harsh corrections. This method can work but it could also make a dog more aggressive. It does nothing to minimize stressors or modify behavior. It only makes the dog associate pain from the owner when it has a stressor, reinforcing negativity. It can also make the dog skip warnings to avoid corrections and go straight to a bite. Positive reinforcement training and positive behavior modification may take a little longer but make the process more enjoyable and also helps to increase your bond.

 If your dog shows signs of aggression:

You do have options! Depending on the stressor, you might just be able to eliminate it or avoid it. Or you can manage the behavior until you have a behavior modification plan. A professional can help you with this and not all trainers are certified to deal with aggression like a behaviorist. You can re-home the dog to someone who can do the above. Worst-case scenario, you can have the dog euthanized if all else fails and the risk stays high for biting. The good news is that most dogs can be helped.

Dogs and children:

Children are much more likely to be severely injured by dog bites. Madeline Gabriel has a website named Dogs and Babies that has so much great information. From her blog “Do dogs Bite Out of the Blue” she states, “Snaps and bites seem to surprise parents because parents consider that vast in-between area of increasing discomfort as “Fine” because the dog is not overtly growling or running away, leading to conclusions such as, “The dog was fine and then he bit the baby.”  Really, unless the dog clearly looks relaxed and happy, he is not “fine.”   This doesn’t mean your dog is going to bite your child right then or ever, but it does mean that your dog needs some help to better manage in that situation… Because parents didn’t notice the early warning signs that would have prompted them to move the child or change the situation. Once you know how to look, you’ll spot them every time and you will have the power to intervene long before anything happens.” She also brings to light that when we see happy kids playing, we tend to miss dogs body language even more.

 The Centers for Disease Control has suggestions for reducing dog bites and creating safer communities; educating children on dog bite prevention, advocating for effective dangerous dog ordinances that are breed neutral but give animal control officers the tools they need to do their jobs, and to provide spay/neuter assistance and education to the public. There is no way to completely stop all bites from ever happening but learning canine body language and being aware when dogs are around can prevent many potential bites from happening.