#or they go less because they have to plan carefully and buy in bulk

[maddie-grove]

I wish more people could wrap their heads around “labor rights and a strong social safety net are important not just to the very poor, both on principle and because weakening those things means that more people end up in poverty” and “people at different socioeconomic levels have different experiences even if you disregard the very rich, and people can be viciously classist even if they don’t have all that much money themselves.” Also, if there could be a moratorium on “if you were really poor, you wouldn’t have/do [thing that varies a lot in expense depending on a million different factors].”

[samwisethewitch]

Earth-Friendly Witchcraft

Whatever religious or spiritual tradition they identify with, most witches agree that there is something sacred about the natural world. We draw our power from the earth beneath our feet, the sky over our heads, and the air in our lungs.

And yet, many of us live in societies that are actively contributing to the destruction of the natural world. Most developed nations have a linear economy, which means resources are extracted and then sent on a one-way trip to consumers who will use them and then throw them away. This leads to overflowing landfills, air and water pollution, and quickly disappearing resources. The World Economic Forum predicts that, if our habits don’t change, there will be more plastic than fish in the ocean by 2050. And I dearly hope that by now we’re all familiar with the reality of climate change and its devastating impact on global ecosystems.

I’m not trying to scare you, but I do want to point out the hypocrisy of drawing power from the Earth in our magic while simultaneously contributing to her destruction. If we truly want to consider ourselves spiritual allies of the planet, we need to make an effort to live our lives — and practice our magic — in ways that are less harmful to her.

You don’t have to become an environmentalist or switch to a zero waste lifestyle, but we can all make little changes for a more sustainable life. There’s lots of information out there about how to live a more Earth-friendly lifestyle, so in this post I’ll be focusing on how to apply that same philosophy to your witchcraft.

Steps to a more Earth-Friendly Practice:

Limiting your consumption will automatically lower your negative impact on the planet. Follow my previous guidelines for avoiding consumerism to start shrinking your carbon footprint.

Avoid plastic as much as possible. According to the WEF, 70% of our plastic ends up in a landfill or in the world’s waterways, and according to Julia Watkins, author of Simply Living Well, only 9% of household plastics get recycled. Plastic (unlike glass and metal) cannot be recycled indefinitely — it can only be recycled a handful of times before it becomes too degraded to be repurposed any further. There really is no way to make plastic safer for the planet, so it’s best to just avoid it altogether. Look for tools made of metal, wood, or glass instead of plastics, and try to order things shipped in paper and cardboard when possible.

Create spells that won’t leave leftovers. One of the big contributing factors to our current environmental crisis is that we just produce too much waste. You can avoid this in your magical practice by crafting spells that won’t leave you throwing away a big ball of candle wax, herbs, and paper. Kitchen magic is a no-brainer for this, since kitchen spells are meant to be eaten. If you want to do a candle spell, use small candles that will burn up completely — I find larger candles are more likely to leave leftover wax. Making magical bath salts is another great option for leftover-free spells — just make sure everything you include is safe to go down the drain and won’t contribute to water pollution!

Forage for your own spell materials. One of the best ways to avoid plastic packaging and cut down on emissions from shipping is to use materials from your backyard! Learn about the plants, animals, and minerals native to your area, and take regular nature walks where you can gather what you need. Remember to only take as much as you need and to be careful never to damage the plants you harvest from. Make sure to carefully disinfect any animals bits you pick up — you can do this by burying them in salt for a full moon cycle and/or setting them in the sun/under a UV light for several days. If you find a dead animal and want to strip and clean its bones for use in ritual, this is a much more involved process and will require special research, equipment, and lots of time. And, of course, never eat anything you have foraged unless you happen to have an advanced degree in botany.

Keep a magical garden. Another great way to connect with the planet and shrink your carbon footprint is to grow your own herbs, vegetables, and fruits. You can, of course, grow food for your kitchen if you have space, but even if you live in a tiny apartment you can grow a handful of magical herbs in pots. For a list of common houseplants and their magical associations, check out this post.

Shop for spell materials at a local farmer’s market. Buying local is a great way to avoid the environmental impact of shipping produce, and it allows you to support small farms. Farmer’s markets also typically carry seasonal produce, which can help you align your magical practice with the cycles of nature. Farmer’s markets are a great way to find seasonal fruits and vegetables for kitchen magic, but you can use the produce you find there for other types of spells as well.

Trade paraffin wax candles for beeswax or soy wax. Paraffin, the material used for most cheap candles, is a by-product of crude oil, which is not only highly unsustainable but contains carcinogens (chemicals that may cause cancer). Beeswax is a sustainable alternative, and beeswax candles produce a “clean” burn, meaning it does not negatively affect air quality. Soy wax is a slightly pricier, vegan-friendly sustainable option that also produces a clean burn.

Use undyed, unbleached paper for your written spells. The bleaches and dyes used in most commercially available paper have a toxic effect on the environment. Colored paper cannot be recycled or composted because it will contaminate everything it touches. Use plain, unbleached paper for your written spells, especially if you plan to bury them in the ground or dispose of them outside.

Make sure your essential oils are ethically harvested. Essential oils are tricky — although they are marketed as natural, many of them are produced through unsustainable methods. Because essential oils are concentrated, it may take thousands of pounds of plants to produce a single pound of oil. This can have a devastating impact, especially for endangered plants like white sage or palo santo. Look for ethically-sourced, wild-harvested essential oils — these are oils that are gathered from the wild in ways that don’t hurt the local ecosystem. Mountain Rose Herbs and Eden’s Garden are two brands that are committed to sustainable essential oil production.

Instead of burying a spell in a jar, bury it in a hollowed-out fruit or vegetable. Many traditions call for spells to be buried in the ground. Items like jar spells and witch bottles are traditionally buried on the witch’s property. The problem with this is that plastic and glass bottles do not biodegrade, and will remain in the ground for years. Instead of putting these materials in the ground, bury your spells in a hollowed-out fruit or vegetable. As a bonus, you can choose this item to support your intention. For example, you might use an apple for a love spell or a spicy pepper for protection. Just make sure everything inside the spell is also biodegradable!

Keep a compost pile as an offering to your local land spirits. Compost is an easy way to reduce food waste, and it gives your garden a boost! Even if you don’t have your own garden, you can give your compost to a fiend who does or look into donating it to a community garden. When composting, it’s important to maintain a balance between carbon-rich “brown” ingredients (leaves, undyed paper, cardboard, etc.) and nitrogen-rich “greens” (fruit and veggie scraps, coffee grounds, egg shells, etc.) — you want about four times as much brown as green in your compost. Start your compost with a layer of brown — preferably twigs or straw to allow good airflow. Alternate layers of green and brown materials as you add to the pile. Every time you add to your compost, verbally express your gratitude to the land spirits. Your compost should be moist, but not soggy — you’ll know it’s ready when it’s dark and crumbly and smells like soil.

Make your own tea blends with loose herbs and a reusable tea strainer instead of buying teabags. Witches and tea go together like peanut butter and chocolate, but the individual wrappers on teabags create a lot of waste. On top of that, since many of these wrappers are dyed, they may not even be recyclable. Keep your teas earth-friendly by buying dried herbs in bulk and blending your own teas. Making your own blends is not only better for the planet, but also allows you to choose each ingredient for a specific magical intention.

Find ways to use your trash in your craft. This one is pretty self-explanatory. Instead of throwing things away, find ways to use them in your magic! Use food scraps from cooking, like carrot greens and potato peels, in spells. Turn an old shoe box into a travel altar. Add your coffee grounds to spells to ground them and manifest results in the physical world. You get the idea. Be creative!

Research different models for Earth-friendly living, like the zero waste/low waste lifestyle, sustainability, and the solarpunk movement. This will give you more ideas for a sustainable lifestyle, as well as a sustainable magical practice.

The funny thing about Earth-friendly living is that, the more time you spend taking care of the planet, the more connected you feel to it. I encourage you to try some of the ideas on this list — you’ll be amazed by how quickly you develop a deeper relationship with the Earth and all her creatures.

Resources:

Of Blood and Bones by Kate Freuler

Simply Living Well by Julia Watkins

“By 2050, there will be more plastic than fish in the world’s oceans, study says” from The Washington Post

A Sustainable Mind podcast

Practical(ly) Zero Waste podcast

[gaiuswrites]

yoga!din thoughts:

they've been fucking around for awhile, but only in the studio. never beyond the studio doors, not even in the cramped, single-person bathroom across the hall. their relationship is purely physical—probably couldn't even consider it fwb. he likes her, is irritated by her, likes the smoothness of her pussy. she likes him, is fascinated by him, likes the rigidness of his cock. it doesn't go much further than that.

that all changes when they run into each other at the grocery store.

I-

christ on a cracker here we go. I’m ready to die now. Cause of death, yoga!Din oh NO-

This... I have no idea what any of this is, but Jess and I have been having a good ol’ time with it. I also want to give a shout out to Rachel for always being a rock in these unprecedented times and taking interest in this main man and I’ll probably be sending you similar messages for your masseuse au to torture you and im not even a little sorry about it

(warnings: SMUT, spanking, language, so pls minors, politely, go home thanks)

She always does this—why does she always do this? 

She drifts down the aisles with the practiced effort of a trapeze artist, juggling the load of groceries bundled to her chest.

Get a cart. Just get a damn cart—a basket, something.

But no. She doesn’t. It happens every time: she goes in for one item—maybe two—and two turns to three and three turns to four, and suddenly they’ve multiplied like rabbits and she’s got half the store in her arms.

Trail mix from the bulk bins, almond milk, coffee grounds, bananas, spirulina powder, those delicious chickpea chips that were buy-one-get-one—how was she supposed to just walk past that—spinach, tofu, zucchini noodles, salmon fillets—

And she nearly drops it all when she spots him. Dark hair, dark eyes.

She stalls out, puttering to a halt. He’s reaching into the frozen meats section, rifling through the various cold cuts. She’d recognize the yawn of his back anywhere, the slope of that broad plane— his arms too, how his tricep cuts across the tawny gold. The shapes they can make. 

The positions they can bend her into.

Maybe it’s best if she just turns around now, sneaks away, pretends like none of this ever happened—she could do that. That would be easy—the easier of the two options, to be sure, because the alternative sounds terrifying and messy, and maybe if she just backs up nice and slow—

Din wheels his cart forwards and glances up. Shit.

He’s not sure what he’s even looking at at first. His feet slow, and there’s a groove creased into his forehead, brow ticking down. She’s here— right here in front of him. How can she be here? How can she be anywhere but where he knows her best—knows her at all? Inside that room, woven limbs and sweaty skin on glossed wood floors. How can she be here—outside that sacred space—in his fucking grocery store?

They stare at each other. She breaks first.

“Hi,” she mumbles out, beguiling.

“Hey,” Din responds, gruffer than he means.

“Hi,” she says again, pressing her lips together to hide a smile.

A grin tugs at him too, but he tampers it; they let a silent, pregnant beat pass between them and then—

“What are you doing he-“ “Have you been here befo-“

They’re speaking over each other—nervous and out of step—and they share a huffed chuckle. They’ve never been this before. They’ve always been physical and brash and bold and they’ve never needed words—they’ve shown each other exactly what they meant and what they wanted through touch—and now, when they need them most, they’re at a loss.

“Just getting some supplies,” she answers him with a shrug, causing one of her many parcels to slip from the precarious tower she’s constructed, and Din, ever agile, catches it before it strays too far. 

“My hero,” she quips dryly, gratefully, as he carefully places the package of tofu on top of the heap. He makes a face, wrinkling his nose. “Is that stuff any good?”

“It’s an acquired taste,” she smirks.

He’s closer to her now, less than an arm’s length away, and Din’s eyes flit to the fading mark at the swallow of her neck, peeking up from the collar of her shirt— the mark he left there just days prior, when she ground down on him, supple frame speared by his cock, rocking frantic and needy up and down on him, whimpering hushed noises into the empty studio. His hand splayed the width of her back, cradling her to him as she rode Din, stretching around him fucking perfectly. 

“Fuck, this pussy takes me so well,” he seethed through a clenched jaw, her breasts rutting against his chest with each bounce of her hips. He growled. “You’re so - shit - you’re tight-” 

Din gave her ass a sharp smack before pawing at it, grabbing a fistful of the flesh there and she moaned— she fucking moaned, depraved and oaky, and knocked her head back, lips falling open and eyes rolling shut. Din groaned at the sight—this woman, this fucking thorn in his goddamn side—sheathed around him, writhing as he fucked up into her—and she had the audacity to moan like that. 

“You like that?” He slapped her ass again and she whimpered, clawing at him, tangling her fingers into his hair, nails scraping over his scalp. He had to resist the urge to shudder—snapping his mouth tight around a whine.

Normally, she’d meet him with some sort of resistance. She was cheeky and smarmy and they both knew it—it’s a game they played—perfectly balanced, perfectly opposed. But she couldn’t help it—she was too far gone, too fucked out, and the words unspooled from her lips like yarn. 

“Yes-yes—fuck, Din- please.”

That earned her another swift crack, the pillowed flesh prickling red from the sting of his palm, and it tore a guttural sound out of her, wrecking through her pretty throat. “God, you’re a filthy little thing. So f-fucking filthy for me-“ 

He ripped her orgasm out of her, his fingers snaked between their bodies, furiously working at her clit in tight, wet circles. It felt like a punch to his gut, as her pussy clamped down around him and gushed. 

When he finally came, spilling into her slicked cunt, he had to bite down on her neck just to keep from fucking shouting. 

He tears his gaze off the bruise, returning to her face—and it’s hardly any better. The corner of her mouth has turned up, just barely, the whisper of it wry and aching. That look—that infuriating, debilitating glint in her eyes—has settled and it makes his cock twitch against his jeans.

“Having a barbecue?” she asks, nodding to his cart, the beer and buns and patties there.

He clears his throat, “Something like that.”

Fenn insisted on it—’I’m not wasting the perfect weather. We’re all doing something, whether you like it or not’— He could only fight her on it for so long. Lesser men have tried and failed, and he knew it best to quit while he was ahead.

“Sounds fun. It’s supposed to be a beautiful weekend.”

“Yeah, so I hear.” Din has to fight the roll of his eyes.

The spell had been broken. They’d spirited themselves away—lying to each other and themselves—as if their tryst existed above consequence, above ramification—like they weren’t even real people. Just ideas, ideas they’d fuck and then suddenly and conveniently vanish—out of sight, out of mind; would disappear as the sun that set on them, blurring lines into the dark.

But he sees her here, clumsy willow arms and cotton tee and cut-off shorts and those beautiful fucking legs he loves wrapped around him so much, and she’s glowing despite the ugly fluorescent sheen cast up from the linoleum tile and—

It’s different. She’s different. Fuller. He knows her now—like this. And he can’t unknow her.

His throat bobs. Maybe he should ask her if she’s free. If she’s got plans. Maybe—

“I’ll see you on Wednesday then,” she says, something unreadable in her voice.

Din swallows. He nods. “Wednesday.”

Oh fuck, he likes her.

She tips her head to him, grinning something small, and shuffles off towards the register.

He watches her go, eyes following as she rounds a corner and slips away. She can feel them on her, his eyes, boring into her backside—all the way to her car, through the town, up to her driveway, into her kitchen where she cupboards her groceries—she feels him, the heavy heat of him, melting against her spine.

@djarinsbeskar @frannyzooey @pedros-mustache

[5lazarus]

Salt, Flesh, Heat

Bull notices that Solas is a deeply sensual person, reveling in clean clothes, good-smelling herbs, and hot water. He's also deeply masochistic. When the two find themselves enjoying the baths one early morning in Skyhold, Bull decides to press. Solas decides to play along. A @black-emporium-exchange gift for gamerfic. Read the other works in the AO3 Collection here! Read the story on Archive of Our Own here.

Steam on skin, worn wood pressing slick into his back as each vertebrae clicks: the Iron Bull sighs as he unwinds in the Skyhold baths. Few beyond the servants and the hungriest soldiers and Josephine herself were up at this hour. Bull has the steam room to himself. Carefully he unwinds his bulk onto the bench, laying his towel over his eyes. The clearcut eucalyptus smell lingers on his skin, sweated into his muscles. He groans aloud as a muscle in his bad knee pops.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he grunts.

Then the door opens and the dawn rushes in. Bull lifts the towel from his remaining eye. Solas stands there, a bit nonplussed. Shit, Bull thinks, and slowly makes room.

Solas lets the door close firmly shut. He holds a bundle of white birch twigs and dried eucalyptus.

Bull grins. “Want me to hit you with that?”

Solas climbs onto his bench and drapes himself on the upper story. “That may not be necessary.” Right, Bull thinks, you self-flagellate enough for both of us. He inhales deeply. “Would you mind putting more water on the stone? Some of the steam escaped.”

Bull says, “Uh, sure.” Slowly, because the ache in his body is delicious and he savors it, he reaches for the ladle and throws another pail of water onto the heating stones, and then another, and another. He hears Solas settle onto his bench, right leg stretched out. Bull turns to look. The man’s pale, graying red hair trailing down his chest. Dorian managed to catch a glimpse of his cock when they bathed after a particularly fetid journey into a Dalish swamp, and reported that it was the largest he’d ever seen on an elf and one of the bigger he’d seen on a man. Bull has to admit he is curious.

Amusement in his voice, Solas says, “Are you quite done?” Still tense, he turns away from Bull. He’s wiry, built broader in the shoulder and legs than most mages he’s met, but still has a weak core. Blackwall told him he’s fought in “some elven skirmish,” and he looks like a man about to retire from the field. He has a slashed scar on his right shoulder and claw marks on his right leg.

“Where’d you get that?” Bull points.

Solas does not turn around. Bull’s eyes travel down his back and rest on his well-shaped ass and thighs. Solas is a bit too thin for him, practically speaking, but he does like to look. He’s built like a dancer gone to middle age, rather than some Emerald Knight stalking the Dales for humans to kill, or—so he has heard from Ben-Hassrath stationed in the outskirts of the Tirashan—Dhal’Vallaslin chasing down strange elves with crimson vallaslin, who sacrifice the living to their long-forgotten gods. He seems more the type to plan and give orders, than carry out the dirty work himself, though of course Bull has seen him do it. He saw what he did with those Kirkwall mages.

Bull asks, voice casual, “You know, you’re kinda built like a dancer.”

At that, Solas shifts. He opens a single blue eye, looking down at him like a large cat eying a much smaller, squeakier dog. “I was many things, as a youth.”

“A dancer?” Bull says, taken aback, and slightly turned on.

“Not that,” Solas laughs. “And you, Iron Bull? Were you ever a—performer in your youth?” Solas slowly raises to his knees and leans over, taking the ladle from him. In one easy swoop, he throws more water onto the steaming rocks, and leans against the wall, inhaling deeply.

Bull says, a tad defensively, “That’s not how we do things in the Qun. I was earmarked for the Ben-Hassrath pretty early on.”

Solas says, “But there are many ways of being a spy, regardless of how your government attempts to standardize. Though I suppose you are too—big for the more subtle aspects of infiltration work.” He stretches. During his time with the Inquisition, he has put on enough weight and muscle that his ribs no longer show.

Bull says, “I did my job okay. Most of it is people-work. Watching, being watched. Don’t need a lot of variety in that.” He snorts. “The less, the better.” He eyes the bushel of branches Solas brought with him to the bania. The eucalyptus mingles wonderfully with the heady scent of sweat. He says, “Are you sure you don’t want me to hit you with that? That’s why you brought that here, right? I thought that was just a Dalish thing.”

He’s hit a nerve. Solas says sharply, “The Dalish do not monopolize all aspects of what has become of my people’s culture. And one simply…rubs the body with it, harder force is not necessary.”

“Ah,” Bull teases, “but if you really want to get the eucalyptus into the skin.”

“And I assumed this early, I would be alone,” Solas says flatly. “How is your knee, Iron Bull?”

Bull grunts, “Shitty. Running from all those demons tore it up again. But this helps. How’s yours?”

Solas pauses. Bull edges to the intersection of the benches, trying to find enough space to spread his leg out without having to sit on the floor. He maneuvers his bulk carefully, and gently lifts his bad leg onto the bench, folding his good leg underneath. It’s a vulnerable position, but he can see the door.

Finally, Solas admits, “My sleep has been disrupted with the amount of strain I’ve put my body through. I am hoping this will help before I must return to my desk and Vivienne’s lectures, as we calculate yet again the futility of using templars to isolate the rifts.”

Bull chuckles. “She’s still on that?”

“She has relented that a team of templars cannot hold the perimeter by themselves. We differ on how many mages are needed to perform the ritual to stabilize the Veil, and how vulnerable it leaves them.”

Bull says, “Give yourself a little bit of a good thing before you charge into the bad. That’s what I like about you, Solas.”

“Oh?” Carefully Solas climbs down onto the lower bench, favoring his unscarred leg.

“You know, you’re such a sensualist. You clearly like the baths, you don’t mind talking, you like the birch broom and feeling your blood roil and all that. I’ve seen you flirt with the Inquisitor before, and you were positively purring at the Winter Palace. But!”

“But,” Solas repeats, looking up at him. “But?” He is enjoying this, Bull is amused to realize. He enjoys it when people talk about him. As a younger man he must have preened. With that red hair, he would’ve had to.

Bull says, “But you never go all the way. You never fully surrender yourself to it. You get tipsy but not drunk. And you never let yourself alone with the Inquisitor, or anyone, really.”

“I am here with you,” Solas points out.

Bull shrugs. “And even though you like to talk, you like to argue, to debate, you never hang around the Mage’s Tower, or go back to the tavern with Dorian and the others. You keep patching up your shitty homespun even though with the Inquisition salary, you can buy yourself proper robes. You’re a masochist, man. I’ve never met someone so—sensual—who likes to torment himself so much.”

Solas is silent. Sweat pours from both their bodies, dampening the smooth hot wood. He fingers the bundle of oak twigs and eucalyptus, rubbing a single leaf with his thumb. Lowly, voice pooling like steam, he says, “Surely I do not need to tell you of the pleasure of desire, long-denied, finally sated. Or of living simply, with the occasional indulgence in luxury. After all, what is an elvhen apostate to do with silk? I take pleasure in making and mending my own garments, Iron Bull. As for other indulgences of the body…”

He trails off and Bull swallows heavily. He flicks his tongue around his lips. The air tastes of clean water and sweat: his own and the sharper, earthier scent of the elf’s. Every species has their particularities.

Bull says, “In the Qun, we believe in moderation, sure. And if you’re into edging, more power to you. But you know that’s not what I mean. If someone ends up that tightly-wound, that isolated, the Tamassrans intervened—“

“And if you do not give a proper showing of yourself, they break your mind and set you sweeping floors,” Solas says flatly. “I have seen how such authoritarian systems deal with dissenters. I take my pleasure in my own ways, in my own time. Not at my commander’s orders.”

Bull says, “It’s not like that. Sometimes you just need a good fuck, or a massage, or to be sat down in a discussion group with the priests and get into an argument all night long. The Tamassrans just prescribe the medicine. It’s good, it works. Keeps you from going too far.”

“Which is precisely why there is no Tal-Vashoth problem in Par Vollen,” Solas says. “Once, while in the Fade—“

Bull groans, “Right, let’s put some demons into this.”

Solas says, “Do you ever tire of repeating what your elders have told you, or would you like to learn something? Once, in the Fade, I saw a young Qunari working in a simple kitchen, baking bread as she was ordered every morning.”

“Cute,” Bull says. “So I’m not the only Qunari you’ve asked about their horns.”

Solas ignores the dig. He continues, “In every loaf she broke the rules. She’d take a pinch of sugar and would fold it to the center, like a secret.” He leans back with a fond smile. “And this act of small rebellion brought a shining smile across her face.” He spreads his hands, as if he has laid a winning flush in their game.

Bull thinks, you had to have been a slave. Are you the baker? Rather than provoke him further, Bull takes a different tact. “Hey, Solas. Why do you shave your head?”

Solas blinks. He raises a hand to his scalp, which is beginning to get bristly again. He says, “Fastidiousness, or lack of fastidiousness. Take your pick.”

Bull says, “No, really. If you can ask me how I put on a shirt I can ask you about your hair. Why do you keep it shaved? You’re not naturally bald, are you?”

Solas eyes him. “I am certain you have heard Dorian complain, at length, of the difficulties of keeping his hair perfectly coiffured and shaved while traveling. I have been nomadic most my life. It became easier, this way. Particularly since it is such a prominent color.” He shifts slightly.

Bull says, “Hey, I like red heads.”

“I know you do.”

“Don’t you ever think about growing it out?”

Solas laughs. “No. Never.” He pops his knee up and stretches his other leg, sighing as the muscles in his back audibly crack. Taking the bath broom, he begins rubbing the leaves into his skin. The air fills with its medicinal scent, and under that: earth.

Bull says, “I can rub that into your back.”

Solas says, “I prefer to take my pleasures simply.”

Bull says, “But I can look.”

Solas rolls his shoulders back and begins rubbing the bundle into his arms, swiping sweat away. “I never said you could not.”

Bull, frustrated, brings his bad leg down with a thump. He says, “You gonna take a dip in the cooling pool? Or is that too much of an indulgence for you?”

“My people first discovered this way of bathing,” Solas says distractedly. “I will take any opportunity to enjoy it now that I can, however primitive our facilities in Skyhold.”

“You’ve got baths, out in the woods?”

“You’ve never built a steam hut, and then flung yourself into a snow drift? Really, the Qun did not let you enjoy your youth.”

“But your people did,” Bull says, seizing on this note of autobiography.

Solas places the bundle on the bench. He stands up in silence and tosses another ladle of water onto the furnace. The room fills with steam, and Bull feels sweat pool in the back of his head.

Solas takes his towel and wraps it loosely around his waist. Looking over his shoulder, he says, “I took pleasure when it came my way.” With that rejoiner, he grins, and opens the door. Bright light and cool air pools in; the steam thins. The day has begun. Solas leaves.

Alone in the steam room, wonderfully hard, the Iron Bull says, “Fuck.”

[3pirouette]

Fic: The Honey Trap (7/?)

Title: The Honey Trap By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Disclaimer: They're not mine. Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :) 

Story Summary: Peggy’d lost count. She wasn’t sure if she was a double or triple agent at this point, and in the end, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting out of this alive.

A/N: Sorry that this chapter seems shorter, but that’s where the natural break was. I’m going to work on getting back onto a regular posting schedule, and may even try to get some mid-week posts in as I now have several WIPs thanks to Steggy Week *facepalm*

Fun fact: This afternoon I totally scrapped the ending I had originally planned because I think it fits much better with one of my other WIPs. So… now we’re all gonna find out where this goes together!

Chapter 7: Turning the Tables

January 3, 1945

Wallace stared at her, eyes cold and dead. “You could have jeopardized everything.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Peggy nearly laughed, lounging back on his bed. They faked a fight from the moment she showed up at the door, Wallace playing the jealous boyfriend to Peggy’s unbothered tone, but the fake fight died down the moment they stepped into the un-bugged bedroom. That didn’t mean Wallace was fully on board with her pretending to have an affair behind his back.

Though Peggy was now 100% sure that his bedroom was bugged, too. She was going to check the next time he stepped out to the loo.

Peggy stood and started to pace. “He’s Steve Rogers. Captain America.” She laughed and looked  at Wallace, but just rolled her eyes when he stayed stoic. “Our cover story is that they were caught and separated. Not that one of us broke up with the other, or cheated, or any horrible thing. We were wretched apart by the military.” She sighed heavily, sitting back on the bed. “Of course, we’d get back together, Richard.”

Wallace crossed his arms like an angry toddler. “So how does this help us?” He pushed away from where he’d been leaning against the wall and stepped into her space. “How does this give us more advantage?”

“It means we’re not passing notes like school girls,” Peggy said sharply, stepping back and reclaiming her own space. “Steve and I can talk, face to face, and strategize.”

“We’re already getting plenty of information. If Hydra starts to think I’m not competent or that you’ve turned back…”

“They won’t.” She could barely keep from smiling. “I can get more details now, like that they haven’t quite had the time to take the base over six clicks down on the French border.”

“The—”

Peggy felt a pang of victory at the way he had to hide his surprise. “Why, surely you know if it? The one Phillips plans to use as a base?”

“Of course!” he covered quickly, nodding and walking away to try to hide his concern. She saw the moment he came the conclusion she wanted him to, and the way his eyes brightened when he thought he had her cornered.

Oh, she thought, if only the little rat knew…

~*~ January 9, 1945

The Pub was busy, but she found Steve quickly in the back corner. Peggy didn’t waste a moment, but slipped into the chair across from him quickly, taking his hand in hers. “Darling,” she whispered, a smile on her face.

Steve, likewise, didn’t waste a second. He stood, pulling her right back up with him and out the back door. He stopped, kissed her fiercely and quickly, then looked her up and down. “Are you ok?”

She nodded, still surprised. “Yes, but, Steve—”

‘Wire?’  he asked with only the slightest hint of volume to his voice.

“No,” Peggy replied, loud and clear. “No surveillance on me that I’m aware except the man at the bar.”

“Good.” He pulled her farther past the trash cans to a bike hidden behind the next store over’s dumpster, and he swiftly settled her behind him before pulling out into the alley. After a complicated series of turns he slowed, and drove them up the back ramp of a parked delivery truck.

Peggy tightened her hold against him as the evening darkness turned to pitch black in the back of the truck. She heard the grunts as the ramp was pulled back into the truck and the back hatch was closed. She knew she had nothing to be afraid of, but the situation made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, anyway.

She heard the sizzle of a match as the truck lurched forward, and quickly two lamps were lit.

She’d never been happier to be in the back of a truck as the light touched the faces of Stark and Barnes. Steve set the stand on the bike and stood, helping her off. “Hope you don’t mind, we needed to get our heads together.”

Peggy looked at Barnes and Stark and Steve, all bouncing in the back of the truck along with her, and smiled. “It’s a risk, but for friendly faces? I’d say it’s worth it.”

The truck ride lasted all of five minutes, just enough time for Howard to arm her with a pen camera, a bug detector disguised as a lipstick, a compact that hid a new encryption key behind the mirror, a cigarette case that was actually a wireless telegraph, and a perfume bottle whose lid was actually an emergency beacon. As little was said as possible, and time was of the essence. Before she knew it, they’d parked again and Steve was lifting the motorcycle and turning it to face the ramp again.

Steve slid them back off the ramp of the truck and onto the streets of London smoothly, the gadgets safely in her purse and the short meeting enough to buoy her spirits. Holding tight to him as they weaved in and out of traffic, she couldn’t deny there was still fear simmering in her that this wouldn’t work, that they’d be outed, but it had been significantly quieted by the feeling of having a team with her.

Steve stopped them in the alley just across the street from Hydra’s favorite pub and French Bistro, in full view of the little apartment full of surveillance equipment. He gunned the engine once before shutting it down, making just enough ruckus that the curtains moved on her least favorite apartment.

They were being watched, and it was perfect.

Peggy slid off the bike and slipped around the front, settling herself in his lap. While the thought of kissing Steve for show wasn’t exactly enticing, they’d both done far worse things and the feel of his lips on hers, the way his hands gripped at her hips, made her heart beat faster.

“You think Wallace knows?” he asked, kissing his way down her neck.

“He knows I saw you once,” she said, struggling to make the words louder than a whisper. “He was quite sore at that.” They were barely close enough to be in range of the listening devices Hydra could use from the apartment, and she didn’t want them to miss a word. “But that I’m meeting you again? No.”

“Keep it that way,” he demanded, taking her lips again.

He slipped a hand up her thigh and she moaned, trying to climb higher into his lap. She lost herself in him for a while, relishing in the feel of his body under hers, the scent of the soap from the base that permeated his skin, the bulk of him wrapped around her. Even with Hydra only feet away, watching, she’d never felt safer. If there was going to be one good thing about this godforsaken assignment, this was going to be it.

She pulled away, breathless, and used her thumb to wipe the lipstick off his lip. “I’d usually make you buy me dinner first, soldier.”

He laughed, brushing the hair from her face. “Most places are closed by now, but we could try if you like.”

She smirked, running her finger over his cheek. “I should make you take me home, then.”

He turned and kissed the tip of her finger, then took her hand in his. “Worried about your virtue?”  

She didn’t even have to try to hide the hunger for him in her eyes. “Worried about yours.”

Steve licked his lips, his voice low and hoarse. “Don’t tempt me.” He looked away to collect himself, then pulled a letter out of his pocket and slipped it down the front of her dress. “For later.”

Peggy couldn’t tell which she was more impressed by: the fact that he’d found a way to slip her a letter in such a way that was so conspicuous that there was no way the Hydra agents didn’t see it, or that the same man she’d met in the back of that car who could barely stutter a response to a woman was being so suave with her. She bit her lip as his fingers hovered at the edge of her cleavage, very carefully not touching skin. She knew he could see every idea in her eyes of what she’d like to do if they weren’t being watched. “I should go,” she whispered, knowing full well it was what neither of them wanted.

“I could take you…” The offer was both play and real, the fear starting to show in his eyes now that he had to let her out of his sight.

“I’m just a few blocks over, wouldn’t want to get anyone suspicious.” She gently untangled herself from him, Steve helping to balance her as she shifted off the bike. She leaned over and kissed him softly one last time. “Same time next week?”

He nodded, one hand coming up to cup her cheek gently. “Yeah. Same place, ok?”

Peggy hated walking away from him. She felt his eyes on her every step it took to get to the small apartment building she called her own, and being on her own suddenly made her feel a little less sure about the whole thing.

But things were on her terms now, and they were going to bring Hydra down.

[ballsballsbowls]

Hey! Do you have any favorite sources for skincare information. Thank u :)

Firstly, you sent this while I was away for a day or so, I’m really sorry my reply’s a bit late

I have a handful of resources, but admittedly I have some huge blind spots and I’ll list them outright

- I don’t use fb, ig, and barely use youtube for anything. There’s probably some great resources on there that I’ve never encountered

- My resources are pretty limited based on my current needs - my biggest skin “issue” is sensitive skin and a bunch of ingredient allergies, including lavender extract and snail mucin. Because of that, I tend to research specific products as I find out about them rather than keeping track of new products in the pipes or new ingredients

- My area of interest is East Asian skincare, Japanese and Korean about equally, so I don’t know much about Western products at all.

The only person I really follow on tumblr for skincare stuff is @birdkoskincare - she’s got a very robust biochemical background and is in the skincare industry in Europe, and I find her info to be really easy to follow along with regardless of your background. I reblog her stuff moderately often.

I use SkinCarisma and CosDNA about equally for ingredient lookups. SkinCarisma tends to have a little more info and the layout is a little more beginner-friendly, but it’s definitely worth using both, even on the same item

Back in the day, there USED to be a pretty robust search tool for reddit, which has since been abandoned. It makes things more difficult if you’re looking for general info or everything everyone knows about, say, lactic acid. Nowadays it’s more dicey, but there’s a lot of good info if you’re patient.

Asian Beauty and Skincare Addiction are both useful in their own ways. If you’re after Western skincare, the Asian Beauty reddit won’t be much use, but you’ll still see Asian products on it. I don’t spend a ton of time on Skincare Addiction, but they sometimes have more useful/current info on, say, the newest research on topical collagen or a new UVA blocker. Both reddits have a pretty robust resource section for people just getting into skincare, which can be a huge help and was where I learned a ton of info when I was starting out.

Lab Muffin is practically obligatory if you’re discussing skincare resources. I don’t look at her stuff all the time, but she’s a nice, accredited source of info if you need something clarified. She also is active on youtube and ig.

Past that, I don’t have any resources i rely on extensively. My boyfriends will vouch that I can spend a whole afternoon trying to find about a specific sunscreen or toner from every possible angle. I’ll open practically any blog, any resource (even REALLY skeevy resources like western beauty magazines) and sort of aggregate the data from 5 different places.

The unglamorous truth is the bulk of skincare is “look at EVERY SINGLE facewash option on jolse/sephora/whatever and scan the ingredient lists and scan them again in cosdna/skincarisma and scan all the reviews I can find on the internet so you spend 6 hours choosing a facewash”

You didn’t give me any indication if you’re a total beginner or not, so I’ll throw a few basic beginner tips in in case they’re useful to you. If you’re way past this, I apologize.

- You just need to start SOMEWHERE. Face wash is a great place to start and it’s a pretty cheap investment compared to a lot of other products. I did JUST face wash (I am being completely serious) for probably 2 years before I got into anything else.  

- Nobody is going to have ALL the answers. Someone with a PhD in biochemistry can tell you how sunscreen works, but they can’t tell you which sunscreen you need to buy. A random reddit user might have share your oily skin, but they don’t share your haircare routine and their recs might STILL be useless for you. If there was a Grand Poobah of Retinol on the internet, they still might recommend a formulation with an ingredient you’re allergic to. 

- That said, it IS a lot of trial and error. KEEP NOTES about what you buy and how you react. Most of the mistakes I made in my 5ish years of being remotely serious about skincare, I made because I didn’t refer to my notes about which ingredients I can’t use or didn’t recognize the alternate way of listing a known allergen.

- You really do need to start slowly and carefully with one product at a time. It sucks when you’re excited about starting a routine but you will regret it when SOMETHING in the past 2 weeks has given you acne and you have no idea what it is.

- You can honestly spend as much or as little as you want. There’s plenty of people who have developed a super elaborate, super expensive routine. There’s plenty of people who use suncreen, face wash, moisturizer and have no interest in anything else. I’ve barely bought anything this past year, just using stuff I already had, and it’s totally fine. In fact, a slow and measured (AND CHEAP!) approach will serve you better in the long run.

- A product that generates acne on your face might work on your neck or arms. A product that’s too harsh for your face might work on your feet. You WILL strike out at some point with a product no matter how carefully you purchase stuff. Having a plan for using it up if you can will make it less terrible.

- CHECK DATES AND TIMESTAMPS on reviews and posts. Products get reformulated all the time and that product that looks perfect for you may have been reformulated twice since that post was created. That dream product may also be discontinued.

I hope this helps at least a little! If you have more specific questions, I may or may not be able to help (if you skin is oily or you’re acne prone you are SOL as it’s NOT my area of expertise)

[vegetalass]

RDR2 Boys Grocery Shopping

Arthur 

Arthur can do a lot of things quickly, but shopping is not one of them. 

He’s totally happy to do it, but he takes his time looking at everything really carefully and thinking about what to get

Usually just ends up buying the store brand because it’s the most affordable, but if you specify a brand you like he’s willing to get it 

He’s also willing to spend more on things that are better when higher quality, though, like beer and meat

That being said, definitely prefers local stores and small businesses because they aren’t corporate and are usually less busy 

If he gets to choose the snacks, he chooses boring stuff like plain tortilla and potato chips

Always really nice to the cashiers, and has fun talking to them about whatever he’s buying. Good at conversing about simple things like that.

Despite this, will make a comment about how expensive everything is

If you go shopping with him, he’ll buy you guys a snack to share on the way home 

John 

Not awful at shopping… But not fantastic at it, either. 

If you send him in for six items, he’ll most likely come back with five or seven things

Refuses to buy anything other than store brand because “it’s just as good” 

Will absolutely not break this rule unless he’s with someone who forces him to, and even then he complains

Jack has never had Froot Loops because of this, since John always buys the Tooty Frooty O’s instead

Abigail has given up

If he’s buying for himself, his shopping list is like “Juice, jerky, snacks” 

Never remembers where anything is so it’s likely he’s going around in circles trying to find something

Bad at asking for help, but always spends a lot of time talking to the meat and seafood guys… 

Honestly, he’s just a guy being a dude at the grocery store

Charles 

Not a vegan, but likes vegan snacks and always spends a lot of time thinking about what to get and trying new things. 

He’s a pretty quick shopper though, just because he does all this thinking in advance

Arthur’s always like “How do you shop so quickly?” And Charles is like “Internet.” 

Also budgets very well and still manages to buy a lot. 

He comes home and the gang is like, “You got all of that for $50?” And Charles is like “Um, yes?” 

Probably has to buy more than he normally would just because he the gang is always eating his stuff

That being said, they don’t always like it and often complain about what he buys (and it’s literally just Hummus or something)

The girls are happy though because he’s the only one (other than Hosea) who buys vegetables 

He has snacks that you can touch and snacks that you shouldn’t 

Probably shops exclusively at Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods tbh 

King of tote bags (Arthur is jealous) 

Micah 

Good luck trying to give this man a shopping list. He walks in with a vague idea of what he needs and walks out with practically none of it. 

Mostly goes shopping for the fun of it and only buys things he likes

Decides on the spot about whether or not he’s getting something and is 100% the type of person to just leave the things he doesn’t want in random places

If you try to put anything in the cart when he’s around, he thinks he gets a deciding vote on whether or not you actually buy it

Just watch him be like “WTF do we need toilet paper for?” 

If he’s buying something for himself, he buys the most expensive one. If he’s buying anything for the gang, he buys the cheapest. 

Also, even if he’s only supposed to do shopping for the gang, he always ends up buying himself a bunch of stuff that he doesn’t plan on sharing. 

It’s like… “And here’s your ground beef, Pearson! Also, I got this ribeye for me.” 

Hosea 

Literally only shops at Costco. You cannot make him shop anywhere else. He buys everything there

Gets everyone’s snacks at Costco, gets everyone’s shampoo and conditioner at Costco, and even probably gets everyone’s winter coat and boots at Costco. 

If you complain about it, he’ll tell you to do the shopping yourself

Being lent his Costco membership card is a PRIVILEGE. Only Charles, Lenny, and Arthur (as well as most of the girls) have ever received it. 

(Pearson and Ms. Grimshaw probably have their own)

You have to beg him to buy you a hot dog combo and yogurt, but he’ll do it if you persist

Puts relish on his because he’s old

Buys a bunch of random old man stuff. Always buying nuts and dried fruit and apple sauce in bulk. 

Always buys off-brand, too. Everyone is disappointed but not surprised when he brings home weird snacks that are all the wrong brand

You have to make special requests for anything else, and even then, he selectively remembers what people want

Dutch 

King of trying to make the employees “check in the back” 

King of having a bunch of random coupons for things no one likes 

King of taking forever, not because he’s shopping, but because he’s making friends with everyone at customer service and distracting people by asking for opinions on what to buy

Always forgets what he came for, even though he swears to Hosea that he’ll remember

Also impulse buys a bunch of stuff… cake mixes, random kitchen tools, avocados, you name it. He always has some weird justification as to why he thinks it will get eaten/used

Don’t let him go shopping with anyone because he’ll buy whatever they ask for

“How much could one banana cost? Seven dollars?” 

Honestly, other than Micah, one of the most likely people to complain about something stupid to staff 

Also, the only one (besides Micah *cough*) who doesn’t use reusable bags 

Still shops at BevMo! cause he’s a freak

Kieran 

He’s a good shopper. Definitely does his best to follow the list 

That being said, isn’t very good at budgeting, but will at least get you everything you need

His only flaw is that he’s also probably not very good at putting things back in the right spots (not for lack of trying, though)

The only person in the gang who buys the on-brand, quality snacks you asked for AND is willing to share

Everyone goes nuts when he brings home REAL Oreos, Cheetos, and Lucky Charms after weeks of healthy versions or knock-offs

Yes, there is probably fighting

But it’s worth it because Jack loves him forever after this

When he does buy food for himself, it’s honestly probably boring stuff like Raisin Bran and veggie chips (Hosea is pleased) 

Pays for everything in cash and is one of those weird people that always asks for $10 in quarters when he’s getting change

Make sure you specify which store he should go to, though, because if you don’t, he’s 100% going to Walmart (and doesn’t know what’s wrong with it)

Javier 

He’s happy to do the shopping, but he isn’t going to follow a list

Even if all of the food is for the gang, he’s like “nah” and just gets what he wants to eat

Example: he buys everyone snacks but it’s just a bunch of random things he thinks sound good

That being said, unlike Micah, he’s not doing it to be mean

Just like Charles buys the veggies, Javier buys the fruit. 

While he mostly shops at ethnic grocery stores, you can still catch him at Costco sometimes because the deals are just too good

And in the spring and summer, he shops at the the farmer’s market (with Charles and Arthur, of course)

Honestly, the fun of shopping for him is the drive there and back

He uses reusable bags but they’re all just old shopping bags Dutch never threw away 

One word: Kombucha

[cetaceans-pls]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

On a quick mission with Jason to deal with pirates in the Caribbean, Bruce finds himself ejected overboard and accidentally lost at sea. Being a castaway gives Bruce ample time to indulge in self-discovery and survivorman-ing, as Jason boats across Pit-green waters in search of this dumb, fine man.

Or, things go incredibly wrong for Bruce and Jason while out at sea, but with help from a dedicated boat captain, The Fellowship Of The Rings, and banana-leaf-pants, they're actually unstoppable.

Written for the @batfam-big-bang​, beta’d by @kuraness​, @sultcnah​, and hassan, with art by @pikachica​, @succulents-and-fairy-lights​, and @mandolinplayer (thanks everyone)! Special shout-out to @setsailslash​ for being the wind beneath my wings.

And! Thanks to the mods for organising this massive, chaotic event c:

Please enjoy the first part of a story about a damp and determined Bat and the struggles a a dapper young man’s gotta face to save his dank ass dad 🙏

On tumblr below the cut c:

Pulling a disappearing act is something Bruce  should  be good at; he’s had years and years of practice by now sinking into the night. Keeping secrets is pretty important in being invisible too, which is why the files outlining the increasingly severe piracy problems in the Caribbean are so heavily encrypted they may as well not exist. After all, at any moment any of his children could be using the Batcomputer to do anything from figuring out how to topple a corrupt government remotely to buying an unreasonable number of chew toys for Ace, and given that they’re all so ridiculously nosy, a security breach is more a question of  when  rather than  if .

Nosiness is a good trait for vigilante detectives, but it makes it hard to work covertly without tipping anyone off. International travel isn’t a good idea for anyone this deep into a pandemic, and while Bruce Wayne being an ass and swanning around the Bahamas in a yacht is pretty believable as far as cover stories go, he’s not keen to subject anyone else to the sort of vitriol that behaviour will garner.

So the plan is simple, with as few moving parts as possible. Three, maybe four days tops being loud and visible on his biggest, ugliest yacht in the hopes that pirates will decide to come after him, and then maybe a couple of days after that to dismantle the bulk of the operation after he’s tracked them back to their base. There’s less of a chance of failure than his usual work, but it still leaves him feeling uneasy.

It’s a long way away from Gotham, and he’s not exactly excited to leave, but his comfort’s not more important than a greater good. The League really does need to sort out a presence for Central America though, and that goes on his notes for the mission too.

So he had planned in secrecy so complete not even Alfred was informed, because Alfred can be notoriously casual in his flagrant betrayal if he disagrees with Bruce’s plans. He’s skulking around the cave at 11 AM on a Tuesday when most of the family is either at work or asleep, and half an hour later he’s climbing into a Beemer, ready to roll out. He has a moment of smug certainty that he’s gotten away with this before the door to the passenger’s side is ripped open, and Jason climbs in with a little battered suitcase, a pair of aviators that reflect metallic blue, a genuinely heinous red wig, and what can only be described as a noxious Hawaiian shirt.

Bruce doesn’t think he’s ever seen a shade of yellow so bright, but it’s now imprinted on the back of his eyeballs, so that’s that.

“Jason, what are you doing?”

Bruce doesn’t even know if he’s referring to Jason’s presence, his outfit, or his hair (oh god, his  hair ).

“Tim was supposed to be the one to tail your ass on this mission, but he’s still way too concussed after last week’s fight with Clayface so he got pulled out.” Jason chucks his suitcase to the backseat and pulls his seatbelt on, still fastidious about traffic safety despite it all. “Then Dick wanted to sub in but Blüdhaven needs him more than you do right now. So they called in the big guns to look out for you, and when I get back everyone’s gonna owe me favours. Sounds like a damn good deal for a week of work.”

Favours are a currency way more important than cash within this family, but Bruce struggles to see how a few favours is worth a few days in the company of a man you loathe.

(All right,  loathe may be a bit dramatic, but it’s how Bruce feels about himself in reference to Jason, and it’s mind-boggling that a boy can wake up in a coffin and be driven to lunacy by the Pit and still, somehow, end up in this car with him in an ugly shirt and an offer of support).

He decides against asking if Jason’s really going to be all right floating in a sea of green in bad company, and doesn’t make Jason leave. It’s the rule of things; if he fails to out-sneak his children, he must deal with their demands, because it’s the only way he could get them to agree to his more paranoid measures in return.

So Bruce makes an effort not to think about it, in spite of himself, and gets the car in gear.

It really is looking like a damn good deal for a week of work; with good company, how badly can things go wrong?

-

Karma really wants to make him eat his words.

Years and years on the job, near-death experiences well past a hundred by now, active involvement in everything from petty theft to intergalactic peace missions, and it’s a little incredible that this is somehow the first time he’s been held at gunpoint while wearing the skimpiest pair of Speedos he could force up his thighs.

A billion dollars for a dressing gown, Bruce thinks but very carefully doesn’t say to the pirates who have commandeered the yacht. It’s all part of the plan, minus his questionable outfit.

Whoever’s manning the screens at the Cave is likely having a grand old laugh right now, but if it’s Stephanie he hopes she realises that he is using her trick with waterproof concealer and translucent powder to hide his scars, and it’s working like a charm. The Speedo was meant to feed the paparazzis that are currently stalking him in their little fishing boats that are weighed down with telephoto lenses, and L’Oreal 24 Hour Max Hold Extra Dewy Outlast! Long-Wearing Concealer makes him look happily whole from 40 yards.

He hadn’t expected the pirates to come on the  one day he had planned to parade in front of the paps, but luck is a lady and it looks like Bruce just will not be getting lucky tonight.

The leader of the gang is yelling at the captain, clearly assuming Bruce cannot speak Spanish and isn’t worth speaking to regardless, which is fair. The leader is also standing far, far too close for a man without a facemask in these sickly times, and Bruce makes a show of tripping over nothing and landing in between Pirate Captain and Captain Luis, building space in between them. Half a dozen vaccine trials down, he’s as close to confidently immune as he can be, so he just strikes an entirely embarrassing pose and grins up at Mr. Pirate. “Sorry, sorry, not every day you get hijacked. Listen, you,” he waves at the assembled gang of ne’er-do-wells, “take my stuff,” he waves to indicate every gaudy expensive thing not nailed down in this frankly ghastly ship, “and leave us alone, okay?”

It’s tempting fate to be extra loud and extra slow like he’s talking to somebody extra dumb, but eyes on him are eyes off civilians, so that’s what he does.

It’s the point of information-gathering with the entire force of his Bruce Wayne Billionaire Playboy personality after all, even if Jason hasn’t stopped mocking him relentlessly for his outfits and table manners and affect (and so on and so forth) every time he breaks into the Master Cabin to help cover up Bruce’s many, many back scars.

The Pirate Captain appears to not appreciate being spoken to like a concussed toddler, and backhands Bruce right across the cheek. Bruce dutifully sets his tooth in so that he gets a dramatically split lip, and tries to look suitably cowed as he wonders about the man’s hand hygiene. Where is Jason, anyways? The standard response in this situation would be to evacuate civilians to safety, and even if the captain is currently stuck with Bruce, hopefully the stewards and the cooks are being shown to the panic room. It’s only in doubt because it’s a Thursday, and Thursdays are Jimmy-the-steward-boy’s day off. What that means is that Jason is likely in his bunk listening to audiobooks while half-asleep, and if it’s the Lord of the Rings and Jason’s hit a particularly engaging part, they could be firing cannons on deck and he wouldn’t hear.

It’s still fine, probably. Jason’s good at showing up when you least expect him.

There’s enough pride and bull-headedness in Bruce’s veins that he still officially objects to having back-up whenever he follows a case abroad, but times like these it’s really hard to feel anything but grateful that his children don’t trust him not to get himself killed in suitably dramatic ways as soon as he leaves Gotham. It’s even easier to feel glad that he and Jason have gotten good enough with each other that laid up on the ground of his yacht with blood in his mouth, Bruce knows that everything’s going to be alright.

“Please,” he says, and his voice trills like a well-trained bird, “please don’t hurt me. I have so much money, if that’s what you want. Somebody just needs to call my PA, we can do a transfer right now.” Oh, good, the captain is slowly backing away while all eyes are on Bruce and his tiny swimwear.

Thank you, Stephanie, for recommending a concealer that doesn’t even smudge as he dramatically cowers on the ground. The captain’s taken shelter behind the big outdoor dining table, a sturdy, immovable beast made of aluminium, and Bruce has a semi-circle of reasonably menacing men he could potentially incapacitate without  definitely dying. Things are looking up already.

Pirate Captain (Pirate King? Pirate Lord? Pirate Admiral? Who knows how a hierarchy works for the lawless, after all) is barking orders for one of his men to handcuff Bruce and move him over to their boat, because this is now a kidnapping-for-ransom situation. In casual dress, Bruce wouldn’t have minded it much; there’s enough untraceable kit in his average pair of slacks to get him out of most situations.

Again, the cursed Speedos are hugely, disproportionately problematic despite their actual size. At least there’s the tracker and the lockpicks in his watch, because thankfully no one questions why a rich man who is mostly nude would be decked out in a fantastically expensive watch.

A gangly boy who can’t possibly be much older than 20 hauls him to his feet and starts to tie his hands behind his back, which is fine. The boy also deftly unbuckles Bruce’s watch and sleight-of-hands it away, presumably into the pocket of his beaten up jeans, and that is decidedly less fine. Still, as long as the tracker remains in his vicinity, it won’t take much effort for him to be found.

Things are still on track, even if they’ve gone off the rails an alarming number of times since he woke up this morning and nicked his face while shaving for the first time in, oh, a decade? More? Hopefully there’ll be a sack or something he can fashion into a tunic on the pirate boat; he doesn’t imagine this entire ordeal will outlast his long-lasting concealer, and given that the yacht’s currently bobbing in the ocean somewhere between Nassau and Port-au-Prince, help’s not far away (so long as Jason has also called the Coast Guard and is not still in his bunk, listening to Gandalf telling an overlong story).

It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine, until it’s not.

Honestly, Bruce takes worker well-being very seriously, whether it’s the COO of the Hong Kong branch of WE or the tired cab driver who inadvertently helped the Bat on an undercover case at 3:30 AM one morning. Fair pay, fair working conditions, every benefit that’s the industry standard and a few that he secretly encouraged the unions to demand. It’s a point of pride that people who work for him enjoy it, and it’s a way Bruce Wayne can help people in a way that Batman can’t even dream of.

It’s important that people who work for him are treated well; them becoming a little protective over him when some journo gets particularly nasty on Twitter is frankly rather sweet.

It’s significantly Less Okay that when they meet him in real life, ‘a little protective’ becomes ‘Captain Luis, seeing his bumbling dim-witted but ultimately not a bad guy boss getting carted away by pirates, finds strength from deep within himself to pick up a chair, start screaming, and try to bumrush half a dozen heavily armed men’.

Time slows down in times of crisis, thank god. Jason’s still nowhere to be seen, and reality narrows to Bruce running through every possible thing he could conceivably do to keep Luis safe. In the first fraction of a second, a trademark Bruce Wayne clumsy stumble is discarded as an option; two of the pirates already have their guns up. He doesn’t have smoke bombs or stun grenades or any of his million gadgets, and his hands are tied (literally  and  metaphorically), but playing dumb and letting Luis get shot to preserve his identity doesn’t even feature as an option.

And so, half a second after Luis starts his war cry, cracked voice and all, Bruce is actively working to dislocate his thumb to get out of his bindings, weight tipped forward in the hope that he can body slam half the men to the ground before they can get to their guns.

It doesn’t work; he gets shot in place of Luis, what feels like a clean through-and-through by the hip that  hopefully  missed anything particularly important. He does manage to bring a couple of the men nearest to him down with a heavy  whumph , and little victories are still worth savouring even while lightly bleeding out on the ground.

He hears a lot of shouting, both from the direction of the pirate boat (reinforcements?) and from the grand double doors that lead to the inside dining room (reinforcements!) but he just keeps moving. Best case scenario, Luis knocked somebody out with one of the absolutely hideous chrome-and-leather chairs before beating a hasty retreat, and now Jason’s tag-teaming in for clean up.

Worst case scenario, he and Luis are about to be killed, and the news might be broken to his family by unflattering pap shots gone viral on Facebook. It’s an unbearable thought, so he doesn’t think, and just keeps moving around like an angry bull intent on sharing his displeasure.

There are a lot of gunshots, and something clips his ear as he knocks another man to the floor. While the pirate groans, Bruce headbutts him unconscious with a helping hand from the metal plates that help hold his skull in one piece. He thinks he hears Jason’s voice, but he knows Jay’s there for  sure  because no other weapon on Earth seems to crack the air quite like his Jerichos, and it’s like light at the end of a tunnel.

He hopes that Jason’s wearing some manner of face-covering; Bruce Wayne smashing a bunch of skinny pirates to the ground in a feat of great clumsiness and luck is entertaining enough to be acceptable, but a master marksman taking out a horde of sea-faring villains isn’t as likely to come off as normal.

Bruce doesn’t have the breathing room to turn around and check because more pirates are scrambling aboard with their own weight in weaponry, even if in his mind’s eye he imagines that Jason is wearing a pillowcase on his head with holes shot out for the eyes.

What an absurd quantity of guns. The number of ways Bruce hates the damned things is uncountable, and if Jason is actually on deck yelling blue murder in pyjamas, things can tip over from ‘scuffle’ into ‘bloodbath’ real damn quick.

Only one thing for it, then. He rolls away from a well-aimed kick and staggers to his feet, keeping his hands behind his back even though he’s worked his way free already. Pirate Captain man is angrily waving his rifle like he’s never known a day of joy in his life, but shooting Bruce might break the streak.

“Stop, stop!” Bruce shouts, aiming to look as non-threatening as a man who has mowed down a series of pirates can. “You can take me, just don’t hurt my staff.”  Stand down, Jason  , is implicit, while  stand down, Luis , is implored.

It’s enough to get the man to bark for his men to stop shooting, as he tries to grab Bruce by the throat in a presumably threatening manner. This is what you get for modern-day piracy where there’s a lot less rigging and ropes and a lot more outboard engines; his grip strength is laughable, but Bruce gamely pretends to struggle to breathe anyway.

Pirate Captain hauls Bruce towards the cluster of his men, looking smug before he turns Bruce to let him see the wreckage of the outdoor lounge of the yacht. It’s bullet-riddled and messed up, but this far from the engine and the bridge, the damage is almost exclusively cosmetic. Thankfully Luis seems relatively whole even if he’s got the remains of a chair leg in his hands and a snarl twisting his face, and so does Jason. No pillowcase head-covering, unfortunately, but his steward-boy curly ginger wig is on and his oversized sleeping t-shirt is bulked out in a suspiciously bulletproof-vest shaped mass (thank God).

There are headphones hanging around Jay’s neck, so Bruce assumes he’d gotten it right about the morning lie-in and audiobook listening. Even mid-emergency, it’s still a rare, nice feeling to see that he knows Jason well enough to guess at least this correctly. Bruce tries to communicate with his eyes that everyone just needs to calm down and let him be taken. Pirates don’t tend to shoot billionaires dead, what with the invisible hand of the free market ensuring trigger discipline and all that, so it’s fine. They can rescue him afterwards, and there’s always help to be had. Superman might be off-world at present and Aquaman might take his own sweet time because he’s a sea king moonlighting as a massive asshole, but as long as no one gets hurt badly, a delay doesn’t matter to Bruce.

Jason’s scowling, but he does point his guns down. There’s hope yet that this is going to end relatively bloodlessly, but then the Pirate Captain lets his little victory get to his head. He’s got Bruce in an ineffective chokehold, and now he’s chuckling and waving his gun around and telling Jason that  you’re not so confident now that we’ve got your boss, huh?

Even at a distance, Bruce can see that Jason is just barely holding on to his temper, jaw tight and teeth clenched. Having close to a foot over his captor and a hell of a lot of muscle mass on top, the ‘chokehold’ registers more like a messy cuddle, so it’s fine.

It’s all fine.

Until, of course, it isn’t.

Because Pirate Captain isn’t completely done flexing, because he takes it into his head to further press his advantage and slam the point home, he holds the muzzle of his rifle to Bruce’s temple, and shouts  bang!

And  of course  Bruce has been held hostage before, of course he’s had weapons brandished in front of his face, of course there’s nothing exceptionally terrible about this situation when compared to the dozens of exceptionally terrible situations he’s been stuck in.

It’s just that he’s always, always hated guns, and he particularly hates guns held to people’s heads (a goddamn mystery why), and it’s just a little beyond what he considers tolerable, to find himself on the other side of a situation where a parent is about to be shot in the head in front of their child.

It’s something he’ll be ashamed about for the rest of forever, but hindsight’s 20/20 and not even an iron will could stop the tiniest of flinches when the thought of  Jason’s going to have to see me die and he isn’t even the one pulling the trigger goes through his head at great speed.

It’s a blink-and-you’d-miss-it moment, but Jason hadn’t blinked, and it’s just that inch too far.

Lord, if Luis had been fearsome before, then Jason picking up a steak knife from the dining table and throwing it so viciously, so hatefully that it goes right through the back of a pirate man’s hand is an absolute vision of terror. While Bruce gets the side of his face coated in blood (he’s pessimistically hoping it isn’t from an arterial flow), Jason is scooping up Luis and chucking him overboard. It feels like barely a second has passed from when the first splatter of blood had hit his cheek before Jason appears right in front of him, one hand holding both guns (cool-looking but hilariously ill-advised) while the other is wrapped around the bulky plastic case of the emergency life raft.

Someone tries to drag Bruce back, and the man is met with two gun butts to the nose with a resounding  crack! . A moment after that and Jason has Bruce pulled behind him, wig askew and kicking a different man right in the family jewels. The Pirate Captain is screaming and waving at them even as Jason hustles Bruce towards one side of the ship, shoving a life jacket down over his head and tightening the straps before Bruce can get his hands through the armholes.

It is, clearly, on purpose. “Jason,” Bruce warns him, growling even as he keeps the name as quiet as he can. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jason kicks a stack of sun loungers over to act as a barricade against the approaching pirates, but he’s completely unharried as he turns to look at Bruce. “B, you’re banged up to fuck and back, and these guys are just massive assholes who’ve been pillaging ships carrying aid during a goddamn pandemic. Your plan’s not working out, so I’m going to handle it  my  way. Just go hang out in the water for a while, okay,” Jason pauses and shoots over the top of the mass of wood, before ducking down to reload. “On God, I’ll swab the decks clean-ish before I pull you back up. That’s my plan.”

An errant chair arm by Jason’s side explodes into splinters from the return fire, and it’s getting really hard to avoid kill shots in order to have a civil conversation. They’re running out of time, and Bruce  knows , knows without a shadow of a single doubt that this is restraint and thoughtfulness and care from Jason, to hold back on what he thinks is right just because he knows Bruce doesn’t like to see a case devolve into death. There’s also a chance that the gun to his head shook both of them up more than they want to admit. This could well be a really touching moment for everyone involved.

But a dozen pirates are advancing, and more than wanting to stop Jason from murdering a bunch of people, Bruce simply  refuses  to let him face this alone, so he just shakes his head and starts trying to work his way out of the vest.

Unfortunately, it’s at about the same time the pirates decide to go on an all-out siege, running towards them and knocking the stack of chairs over in their haste. Bruce doesn’t have time to think, just steps forward so that he can body block Jason and hope that polyethylene foam can take a shot or 12.

Jason disagrees with this course of action, and he makes it exceedingly clear. One moment Bruce is standing firm between his son and almost-certain death, and the next he finds himself being flung over the side of the yacht, Jason executing a frankly gorgeous Judo throw. A blob of bright orange follows him down, the instant raft deploying in midair.

“Fly, you fucking fool!” Jason screams at him, and Bruce’s last thought before he hits the water and the hard outer shell of the raft hits him in the head, is that he was right.

Jason  had been listening to the Lord of the Rings.

(And Bruce is really regretting leaving the Shire).

-

It’s going to be a hell of a story to tell the gang; hijinx on the high seas, and if Jason can convince Bruce to take a picture of him looking suitably pensive while the sea breeze flutters his hair and open shirt, they’ll have a cover for the book deal that inevitably follows Jimmy the Red-Haired Steward’s dramatic rescue of literal billionaire Bruce Wayne.

It’s almost anti-climactic in the end; he sends Bruce overboard and is polite enough to chuck a raft down with him so that the man won’t have to find out that not even Steph’s go-to brand of makeup can stand up to the open ocean, and minus an overbearing parent idiotically trying to take bullets for him, Jason’s free to just go right the hell off.

By his count, there must be close to 20 pirates now, and just one of him.

Damn, what fun odds. He knocks out 4 guys the moment they pass his barricade, and they definitely won’t be dying from those wounds. There’s a slightly messier kerfuffle when he kicks a tabletop off its legs and flings it at the guy who thought setting off a rocket-launcher in a luxury yacht is a good idea, and casualties from  that are self-inflicted, so there’s no sweating it.

A half hour of screaming and shooting later, and at this point he’s just showing off when he leaps off the upper deck and gets a trick shot out into the knee of the man with the biggest rifle. At the end of it there’s a lot of moaning and groaning on the ground, there’s blood everywhere, and barring rocket-man, the Pirate Captain’s still the worst off because a serrated steak knife thrown at high speed will do a number on anyone. It’s  exactly what he deserves.

Jason putters about securing the pirates with fishing line, and shoves handkerchiefs into the deeper wounds as he does a headcount and takes deep pride in having not killed anyone even though his temper’s the most frayed it’s been in a while (his history with bodies of water is bad and his track record with parental figures is even worse).

He leaves the captain tied up on the sun deck, because a sunburn’s the least the man deserves after holding a gun to Bruce’s head and being so proud of it. If Jason had trod on his hand a little heavily on his way off the deck, well. Some lessons just need to be worked in with some elbow grease.

Cleaning takes a while because B can be so damn picky about  appearances , and it’s easier to do without the man himself anyways, so he doesn’t think twice about leaving Bruce to sulk in his floating inflatable tent while Jason works. When he hears noises from the pirate ship while he’s going around disarming all the weapons, he ends up finding a gaggle of kidnapped fishermen stuffed in the hold, and he wants to go step on the Pirate Captain’s hand all over again.

He frees the fishermen and moves them onto the yacht, where the staff who have crept out of the panic room with knives in their hands and murder in their hearts welcome the poor fucks and make them something hot to eat. Really, being a crusader’s a lot easier without Bruce’s presence, and it’s like a victory lap at this point. No one’s dead, even more people have been rescued than when they started, and the Coast Guard should be rolling in any minute.

Jason  cannot wait to show off to B just how damn good he is at his job.

Everything wrapped up and a dozen shoulder-slaps from the crewmembers later, Jason makes his way down to the back of the yacht, where a platform can be lowered and the canoes and jet skis can be set out in the water. He’s fully expecting to see Luis hanging on to the ladder near there, with Bruce tethered like an errant puppy. Jason’s already grinning as the platform swings open with a quiet splash, but the sight that greets him isn’t one for smug eyes.

Luis is there, looking a little cold but ultimately quite calm and relaxed, and smiles when he sees him. “Jimmy!” Luis calls out, hauling himself up onto the platform and taking his shirt off to wring it dry. “You crazy bastard. I’m glad you’re okay! Is Mister Bruce also all right? The pirates are gone?” He eyes the bobbing pirate ship with great distrust, and overall gives the impression of a man ready to pick up a kayak oar and go to war.

Jason’s leaning as far off the platform as he can, craning his neck to try and see the bright orange floating raft. “Pirates are taken care of,” he tells Luis, and doesn’t let his unease show. “Everyone’s fine, but I threw Mister Bruce off the boat too, with the little tent raft. Did you not see him, captain?”

Luis shakes his head. “You must have thrown him overboard on the other side, Jimmy.” He turns a frightful shade of pale, and leans back out the yacht to help look. “Can Mister Bruce swim?”

Everyone in the family is an accomplished swimmer; for reasons that probably only make sense when you’re a paranoid patriarch, all of them had to prove that they could swim a mile in full gear before they were okayed to patrol close to the waterfront. It’s also common knowledge in a family with a collective competitive streak a mile wide that Bruce once rescued 3 full-grown adults in the open ocean while fully kitted out, so yeah.

“Yeah, he can swim.”

So why in the hell is he not right here?

Jason takes a deep breath, and reminds himself Bruce  always has a tracker on him somewhere, so even if he was carried away by the waves, actually locating him shouldn’t be an issue. What’s more likely to be a pain in the ass is the Coast Guard boats plowing through the sea towards them. Jason’s cover as a steward is enough to fool local police, but if he’s pulled in for questioning re: owning and using his guns, it’s going to become A Problem.

A problem that would take a lot of time to handle, and that’s not something Jason’s got in spades if Bruce is missing.

Ah, shit. He’s going to have to call this in, and that’s not going to be possible in an itchy wig on a ship crawling with officers. It’s time for Jimmy to disappear, looks like.

He considers his options, and decides to just go with his gut. Luis seems like a good guy; civilians who step up in a life-or-death situation despite common sense telling them not to usually are. And compared to B, Jason’s always been quicker to trust, anyways.

“Listen, Luis,” he tells the man, face serious. “I’m actually Mister Bruce’s bodyguard. If he’s missing or drowning, I have to go find him. He’s…. like family.” Thank God that no one else is here to hear this. “But if the Coast Guard comes and takes us all in for questioning, I can’t start looking for him. Can you tell them I jumped in the sea after Mister Bruce, and to send people out to find us? I need to grab the tender and sneak off first; he’s been in the water for a while already now, so I just don’t have time to wait.”

Everything is  probably completely fine, but you don’t live and then die and then be reborn and then continue to live as a successful vigilante by hanging your hat on ‘probably’. Jason’s itching to get on the little tender and check in with Alfred, but Luis covering for him would be really fucking helpful.

It feels real good when his instincts pay off. Luis doesn’t even bother saying ‘Yes’ and ‘Of course’; he’s already striding to the little box by the light switch that has the keys for all the gear, and after a quick rummage around he throws the boat’s keys to Jason.

“I’m going to believe you, Jimmy. Go find Mister Bruce, and I will tell the police how you saved us and why you left. Do you need anything more?”

Luis is just hitting homerun after homerun today, wow. Jason grins, and shakes his head. “I’m going to get my stuff from my bunk and climb out the porthole in the kitchen right onto the boat. See you when I see you, captain.”

And Jason’s gone.

-

Bruce comes to a couple of hours after his inauspicious disembarkation, if he’s judging the sun right. His face is an achy sunburned mess, but he supposes it’s preferable to being unconscious while facedown in water. He regains consciousness quietly and calmly, an extremely important skill when you are regularly abducted and knocked out, but when he cracks his eye open all he sees is the sea, all all of it.

He takes stock of the situation, and notes with some resignation that his yacht (the Pretty Penny, and worth every cent for the look on Alfred’s face) is nowhere in goddamn sight. He’s still cocooned in a life jacket, but luckily a loose buckle had wrapped around the ropes lining the life raft. It takes a bit of finessing, to work his way free and then haul himself up into the raft when he’s disorientated from being sunburned and injured and groggy, but he manages eventually.

The raft had managed to inflate all the way up, and the little tent provided blessed, blessed shade. If he was marooned on a liferaft with his children, or with a civilian, Bruce would be all action by now, cataloguing injuries and rummaging around to find what equipment they have. That’s just the exact right thing to do, in a survival situation.

But he isn’t marooned on a liferaft with anybody else. He’s by himself, his face feels like it’s on fire, he’s a little concussed, and he doesn’t know if everyone’s safe on the yacht. Instead of doing something meaningful, Bruce just groans and lays out as flat as he can get on the small raft, with his legs hanging off over the side.

Might as well get sunburnt knees, make a set of it.

It’s starting to feel like he’s just not meant to have a casual fun time out here in the Caribbean, and this far away from shore, nobody can hear him swear.

His legs are starting to sizzle a little by the time Bruce re-finds his will to survive, and he eventually drags himself upright, looks down to once again despair that he’s literally in swimwear and nothing else, and tugs out the dry bag filled with survival equipment tucked into a pocket near the back of the tent. He’s sure it’ll have much more kit than the average equipment bag, but because he can’t remember the last time he took it into his head to pack survival kits for non-Bat vehicles, everything is likely several years out of date.

As he digs around, any hope of finding a tracker that can  ping! loud enough to alert the Batcave disappears. There’s a brick of a satellite phone, but failure to keep it well-maintained means the battery is completely flat, and trying to fix it in a bobbing liferaft that’s constantly letting water in…. ill-advised.

At least being in the Caribbean in the summer means that the current is more likely to have him drifting across the archipelago instead of sweeping him out to the Atlantic. Deserted islands are a dime a dozen here, and Bruce shudders at the thought that he might meet his end here, where it’s warm and sunny and beautiful, instead of bleeding out into a puddle of what might be rainwater or piss or both in a dark alley in Gotham, which is what he thematically deserves.

If only Alfred were here to hear him loudly think about his death after maybe 3 hours of being at sea with his own grim thoughts.

At least the kit bag reflects his personal preferences. Enough energy bars to keep a man physically functioning for at least 2 weeks, and half of them are white-chocolate-and-cranberry flavoured. There’s a rain poncho made of the same material his cape was about 5 years ago, which means it’s light and breathable and incredibly strong. He puts it on, because where Jason presumably gets power from wearing either leather or garish beachwear, Bruce unfortunately counts himself closer to goth than not, and a black raincoat is enough to make him feel at least marginally better.

He digs around some more and finds the usual suspects: a multi-tool with a blade sharp enough to gut a camel (tried! And tested!), 3 flare guns, a little floating solar still, a first aid kit that could keep you alive through increasingly alarming injuries, wax matches and some solid fuel, and a little tin mug that had some fishing line and a bunch of hooks. God, there’s even sun cream in here, and that’s as Classic Alfred as the tiny glass bottle of exquisite whiskey. The reach of one elderly butler’s tender loving care extends really alarmingly far, and Bruce salutes the sky in his honour before taking a carefully-rationed glug of Stranahan for moral support.

It burns smoothly down his throat, and it’s as close to a second wind as Bruce is likely to get out here. Bruce sets up the solar still and has it floating on a tether right by the raft, even if he’s got at best a couple of hours of daylight left. Dinner for the night is either a protein bar or fresh-caught fish if he can swing it, and the bottle of good whiskey needs to stretch for 2 weeks for the worst case survival scenario, because that’s around when Superman comes back from his off-world mission and can come play fetch.

Best case scenario, Jason’s going to pull up in the BatWing any moment now, and Bruce will gaze upon a hideous ginger wig and once again get to marvel at the miracle of Jason alive and coming at him.

The Batman hasn’t survived so long off the backs of best case scenarios though. Fantasy revelled in, Bruce starts divvying up his resources and makes his peace with potentially having his body be found in a poncho 3 months from now by deeply unlucky fishermen.

Hell of a legacy to leave for his children, but it’s better than pearls and a dark alleyway (he sure would have appreciated a larger bottle of whiskey).

-

Escape was the name of the game, so Jason doesn’t burn time on thinking, just grabs his supplies and steals the tender, gunning the engine and gone out of sight before the Coast Guard could board the Penny. It’s pretty hair-raising, literally; throttle opened to full he almost loses his wig to the whipping winds.

Fifteen minutes after separating from Captain Luis, Jason’s dropping anchor in a tiny lagoon and pulling out his Bat-issued laptop. First things first, he runs through all the trackers Bruce is most likely to have on him. No point in alerting HQ if Bruce just got washed ashore on a little beach a couple of miles away. He could do without the rest of the family calling him out for simultaneously being both Bruce’s back-up as well as the main reason Bruce is currently missing, thanks. There’s already plenty of self-recrimination going ‘round.

The internet’s pretty slow considering the private BatSatellite beaming it right down at him, but it only takes a few minutes before he’s run through the checklist of the dozen or so standard trackers Bruce could have chosen from. Almost everything is deactivated, probably because a mother-of-pearl button and a tie clip aren’t options that mesh with swimwear too often, but one of his watches is active and blinking a cheerful green from the other side of the island, moving swiftly towards land.

Jason thinks  hell yeah!  at the start but then logic comes a-calling; neither the current nor a very determined man could move that quickly, and the blip is moving in a straight line away from the yacht. He takes another look at the list, and groans when he realises that what likely happened was that Bruce’s shiny golden Rolex was liberated from him pre-getting-thrown-overboard, and is now likely enjoying a pleasant ride to Nassau in the pocket of some pirate on the Coast Guard’s ship.

“This is why I told him to get a goddamn belly button ring,” Jason shouts down at an errant starfish, who fundamentally does not care. Garish intimate jewelry work because they can stay on regardless of the state of undress, and because not even the most determined thugs tend to be super interested about groping around a man’s navel to get half an ounce of cheap tin and silver. An ugly piercing is  by far  the best option for discreet trackers.

Just classic goddamn Bruce; too good for gun violence, too good for tacky piercings, too good to just stay the hell still. Jason half-heartedly goes through the rest of the list, on the extremely off chance that Bruce slapped on the temporary tramp stamp with its special magnetic ink, or decided to opt for the cute anklet with dangling shells that’s a Cass design, but no go.

There’s not a blip anywhere, and if Bruce is really  really lost at sea, time’s not something either of them have a whole lot of. Jason starts up the boat and decides to head right to the outermost chain of tiny islands, because the vital thing here is making sure that Bruce doesn’t get swept right out into the open ocean. One hand on the wheel, with the other he pops an earphone back in and presses a complicated code using the volume up/down buttons. It’s another few seconds of the Fellowship coming through before the comm connects, and it’s Alfred.

“How can I help, Master Jason?”

“How much of what went down did you catch, Agent A?”

“I must confess to a little chuckle when I saw Master Bruce being thrown overboard. The onboard cameras caught the rest of your fight, and may I just say, splendid aim with the steak knife. I doubt I could have done better myself.”

That’s a blatant lie if Jason’s ever heard one, but he’ll take it. “Thanks, Alfie. Thing is, uh. Thing is, I might have misplaced B.”

There’s a short pause, and Alfred’s voice comes back on with polite inquiry. “What do you mean by ‘misplaced’, Master Jason?”

“You saw me chuck B over and leave him a life raft, right? Yeah, well, when I went ‘round to do a pick-up, he was gone.  And he doesn’t have any kit on him, so.” Urgh, this is going to live on in infamy. “So I might have lost Batman somewhere in the sea.”

There’s another pause, a little longer this time, filled with enough character that Jason can just imagine Alfred with his head tipped back, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to chase off a headache that has given him no peace presumably since B was born. “I see. Do you know if he is injured? Or if Master Bruce is missing as per some sort of plan?”

“Think he might have been grazed by a couple of bullets, but nothing life-threatening. And this  could  be a dick move that’s part of a bigger plan, Alfred, but he knows you’d be  real passive-aggressive if he runs off without telling anyone. He pulls that kind of bullshit when things are apocalyptic, but it’s just a bunch of pirates not social-distancing.” Jason worries at his lower lip, and tries to feel more confident about the absence of serious injuries. “I don’t know, maybe he hit the water wrong and passed out and got swept out, or something. I just know I’m not leaving this as is.”

God literally save B if this does turn out to be some dumbfuck ploy to go off and Rambo a mission solo, that’s a Jason Todd guarantee right there.

“I believe not trusting Master Bruce to be all right is generally the right way of thinking, unfortunately.” Alfred sighs, and it comes off as static in the earpiece. “I will make some inquiries, and see what resources we have for a search and rescue mission. In the meantime, Master Jason, do what you think is best. Master Bruce may not have any of his usual equipment, but so long as he has the raft, he should survive for a good long while.”

Knowing how extremely over-prepared Bruce is in almost every aspect of his life, Jason wouldn’t be too surprised to know that all WE rafts came prepared with spear guns and a bar of solid gold. Best case scenario, he’ll find Bruce in time for dinner, and they can have an(other) awkward meal where Bruce does his damnedest to be inoffensive and haltingly the best father he can be, while Jason tries not to get ticked off by every third word out of the man’s mouth.

Jason tells Alfred that he’s going to whip out some maps and do a lap around all the tiny little cays that dot the sea to try and find Bruce, and half his head’s thinking about a memorial service where Clark will presumably burst into tears while stood in front of a casket that’s got a symbolic Speedo in it, and that’s how Bruce is going to go down in history, which is what he deserves.

The other half decides that now is a good time to remember how Bruce had once gone all-out on a search-and-rescue mission for Jason too, many many years ago, and oh, look how  that turned out.

What a fucking feast or famine man.

-

Fishing is an accursed activity for accursed men. Bruce is somebody whose hobby slash raison d’etre involves getting dressed up in armour and perching on a gargoyle somewhere high up in an unmoving manner for hours at a time, and he  still finds himself bored almost to tears by the lows and lowers of idly holding a fishing line in his hand, being convinced something has gotten hooked, and pulling up absolutely nothing (again and again and again).

It’s blissfully sundown by now and there’s no fresh fish on the menu, but he has a mouthful of fresh water thanks to the solar still, and he’s got half a protein bar in him for dinner. The moon’s nowhere near full and the stars are obscured; he’s completely enveloped in the kind of darkness that’s so, so foreign to a city like Gotham.

It’s all blackness as far as the eye can see, which is not very far, and all he has for company are his thoughts and the quiet  splish splish splish  of little waves pattering against the side of his raft.

It’s deeply unnerving even for Bruce, a man who has on occasion described himself as The Night. He has a fire starter and nothing to start a fire; he has a phone and no way to connect to anyone. He has a lot and very little all at once, and despite his best efforts, no amount of focus can get anything  done .

So Bruce sits with his back to the opening of the little tent, and over the next couple of hours finds himself slumping and sliding lower, til his head is thrown back across the edge and all he sees is nothing.

Stoicism in the face of terrible odds is an important part of being the Batman, but Bruce has no cowl and no cape; he’s just him right now. As he stares at what may or may not be the North Star, he finds himself thinking about how dinner was supposed to be scallops and baked fish with a side of exquisite wine, and gently mourns just a little. If his luck held, Jason would have swung by later to help himself to the dessert tray that Bruce has delivered straight to his room, and he could have sat there and basked in the unending pleasure of Jay's healthy and hearty and whole company.

Instead, he’s stuck out at sea trying to guess how close or far away he is from 10:47 PM, which is the default time to throw up a signal in cases where a team’s been broken up. In Gotham, even if he didn’t have a watch or a phone or a comm unit or a car, he could usually guess the time down to 15 minutes, just based on which shops were open and which shops were closed, what buses were running and what colour the WE building was lit up to, by the presence or absence of the tinkly elevator music that accompanies the fountain light show in the main plaza.

Here, there’s nothing. The position of the planets would be a bit of a hint on a good day, but on a bad day with heavy clouds and a concussion he’s not confident Venus is real. The outdoors are a mistake, and laid out in a raft miles and miles away from the nearest cityscape Bruce feels homesickness so keenly he has to turn over and throw up a little bit.

At least the concussion is keeping him company.

The first hour after nightfall he had taken the initiative to just sit there and count time out, but there’s something spectacularly soul-sucking about counting down seconds. Bruce was somewhere in the 3000s when he came to the conclusion that he would rather not reinforce his concept of mortality by literally calling out each moment he comes closer to death, thanks. It’s been a while since he stopped counting, but time’s a mess in the absence of manmade context.

He’s also, shamefully, a mess in the absence of manmade context.

Bruce has 3 flares and a son out there somewhere looking for him. Having a predetermined time to launch a signal is not a fundamentally bad idea, but it’s not practical when out in the field, and right now he’s even willing to go so far so as to admit that using the time of his parents’ passing is both extremely grim and extremely unkind to all parties involved.

All factors considered, it’s as good a time as any to get the flare gun. If he’s lucky, Jason will be ‘round to pick him up in under an hour. If he’s less lucky, it might be a different band of roving pirates that come for him, though by this point the company of sun-dried criminals is greatly preferable to just his own.

If he’s really,  really  unlucky, the flare’ll explode big and bright up in the sky to the attention of absolutely no one, and when that happens Bruce can begin to doubt his reality as much as he doubts Venus’.

“Please let it not be 10:47,” he says in the vain hope that karma’s looking out for him as he sticks his upper body out the tent flaps and shoots at the sky.

The flare goes up straight and true and explodes into bright bright light, and all of this would be a thing to be happy about if the presence of light didn’t highlight the clear, helpless absence of everything else.

For the first time in a very long time, the fearsome big bad Bat of Gotham turns in early for the night, but nobody is even around to appreciate it.

(He will find out that it was, in fact, just around 9 when he shot off the flare, or just about 3000 seconds after the 3000 seconds he’d already counted.)

(The invention of time was a Mistake.)

[1/2]

[desktopdust]

Phantom Network: Antiviral Renewal

So, quick show of hands: who here has been blasted through a wall before? One, two…nobody?  Really?  Just me? Okay.  Well then, let me tell you, kiddos: it’s not fun.

I groaned loudly as I pulled myself out of the rubble, sounding off just to let the world know it hadn’t killed me quite yet.  My fog coat was caked with dust and grime, but the gunmetal alchemar beneath, though not exactly giving off the same shine it gets after a good polishing, remained intact and undamaged.  The debris shifted as I moved—a block fell on the end of my green silk scarf, pinning me for a moment until I pulled it loose—but eventually I got to my feet, shook the dust from my domino mask, and took stock of my surroundings.  The space could be deemed “cramped” horizontally, but vertically, it went on for ages; it was hard to tell exactly how far, the service lights blinking along the walls didn’t entirely stave off the darkness, but I had enough to deduce I had been thrown into an elevator shaft.  My point of entry was only three stories up, I realized, thankful it hadn’t been any higher.

Right, crazy situation, how’d I get here, et cetera.  A couple days ago, a fellow Phantom Thief who goes by “Witch Doctor” approached me for help in a heist she was planning: our local megacorp MiliGrand had recently unveiled a new miracle drug effective in curing over 200 different diseases, and managing the symptoms of at least a thousand more. Problem was, they held exclusive rights and were selling it for millions of dollars a pop.  Doc wanted to bust into their compound, steal the drug, and get it into the hands of people who need it but don’t have the money to buy a new yacht every quarter, and thought she should get some backup to make sure things went smoothly.  Sounded like a good cause, so I agreed.  It was only after that I found out who else she had recruited…

“Roche?  Still breathing, darling?”

My eyes rolled upward.  Leaning into the shaft was an athletic woman with medium brown skin and bright red, shoulder-length hair dangling around her smug face.  Her alchemar was silver and looked very lightweight, the armor itself being very sleek but accentuated by a knee-length half-skirt and off-the-shoulder shawl, both made of smooth pink fabric.  In answer, I let out a loud sigh.

“Excellent,” she said.  “Say, while you’re down there, be a dear and get us into the bottom level, would you? No point in going the long way and wasting even more time.”

“Wonderful suggestion, Kari,” I said.  “I’ll get right on that.”

Kari winked before ducking out into the hall.  Resigning myself to my task, I faced the wall and activated my alchemar, beginning the delicate process of manipulating the force of gravity acting on it.

See, I’ve worked with Kari a handful of times prior to this, and every single one has ended in me getting screwed over in one way or another.  When we sabotaged the test run of an elites-only bullet train, she used me as a distraction so she could rob the facility’s safe on the way out.  When we were contracted to recover a list of museum exhibits, she swapped my list with a fake, made me look like a fool just to be sure she was the only one building goodwill with the client.  Hell, she more or less left me to die the last time I saw her, yet here she was, spewing the same fake charm as ever like none of that had ever happened.  She hasn’t changed, and I doubt she ever will.

Still.  There were a lot of people who needed this drug.  I couldn’t quite bring myself to leave them to it just for the sake of my own comfort.

I curled my fingers as I finished bending the gravitational fields.  Taking a step back, I willed the centermost field I had created to head in the same direction; the wall shuddered, bulged slightly, and finally gave, a huge circular chunk of it floating out to reveal the hall on the other side.  Carefully setting down the hunk of wall, I deactivated my alchemar and looked back up to where I had entered the shaft.  Kari leaned against the side of the opening, polishing her gauntlet as she waited.  Next to her stood Witch Doctor, a woman of similar age and skin tone who looked a touch more frail, face obscured by a surgical mask and massive glasses with blacked-out lenses.

“You sure you’re ready to be on your feet, Doc?” I asked.  “You took some pretty bad hits in that scrap just now.”

She straightened the faded gray robe she wore, almost covering the scorch marks on the thin, pale blue alchemar beneath.  “I’ll be fine, Roche, thank you.  We can’t afford to waste any time.”

Doc shakily held one arm out.  Just as I was about to say something, Kairi tapped her on the shoulder and said, “Allow me.”

Without waiting for a response, she scooped up Witch Doctor and jumped down to the bottom of the shaft.  Doc panicked a little, and honestly, so did I; Kari seemed to be enjoying that fact. I said, “Yeesh, would you take it easy?”

Brushing right past me (and still carrying Doc), Kari said, “You heard her: we can’t afford to waste any time.  Besides, weren’t you concerned about her health?  This way she doesn’t have to strain herself.”

“Yeah,” I grumbled as I followed her into the hall, “and instead you give her a heart attack…”

“Oh, need you be so dramatic?  You’re fine, aren’t you, Doctor?”

Doc didn’t respond.  Craning my neck, I could see she was still staring up at Kari; hard to be sure of much else with her whole face covered, but if I had to guess she was having some difficulty processing what was going on.

Kari chuckled.  “Adorable.”

“Hey, give her some space to breathe.”

Throwing a smirk over her shoulder, Kari asked, “My, is that jealousy I hear?”

“Hah!  Maybe Doc can check your hearing once we get back.  It’s this way, right?”

Somehow I was fortunate enough to have relative quiet the rest of the way to the lab.  The first door didn’t look particularly fancy, just a sliding metal door with a scanner next to it.  Once Kari finally set Witch Doctor down and let her regain her bearing, the Doc reached into her robe and pulled out an eyeball.  I turned back to the door and--

...Wait.

No, yes, that was an eyeball she was holding.  My shock was apparent, it seems, because she said, “Don’t worry, it’s synthetic.  Pardon me.”

She held the very real-looking but apparently fake eyeball up to the scanner, and a few seconds later the door slid open.  Putting the eye away, Doc peered into the next room, and I did the same: it was a pretty spacious square of a chamber, though probably not as big as it looked since it was entirely empty.  On the far wall was a much bigger, more imposing, cooler-looking door than the one we were currently poking through, flanked by a series of panels that blinked and beeped sporadically.

“Alright,” Doc said.  “The bulk of the floor here is made of pressure plates, but unfortunately, I wasn’t able to obtain accurate data on the safe path through them.”

“Easy,” Kari said.  “I’ll just zip right across.”

She took a step forward, but Witch Doctor shook her head furiously.  “No, wait!  If the plates recede for even a fraction of a second, an alarm will trigger!”

“Mmm...how small a fraction?”

“You want to burn your entire charge right here?” I asked.  “This is what I’m here for.  I’ll change you and Doc’s personal gravity and you jump over the plates.”

“Oh? So our fate will be in your hands?”

That’s real damn rich coming from her.  “I’ll keep a close watch as you go and make alterations if needed.  Hurry up and get ready.”

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Kari stepped just into the room along with Doc. I switched on my alchemar, using its power to loosen gravity’s hold on the two of them just a bit.

“Go.”

Kari put a bit too much into her jump—I had to act quickly to increase her gravity slightly and prevent her from smacking into the ceiling. (Which I mean, is something I’d like to see, but...time and a place for everything.) Doc, on the other hand, didn’t give quite as much of a push as I expected, so I had to reduce the pull on her even further at the same time.  It wasn’t easy, but in the end I managed.  Both of them landed right in front of the other door, and Doc immediately pressed her ear against it, alchemar lighting up.

She may not be much of a fighter, but Witch Doctor has a precision control over her alchemar the likes of which I’ve never seen.  Metal is her preferred element, usually for creating scalpels out of thin air to be 100% sure they’re sterile, and she’s trained herself to manipulate all the moving parts of nearly any physical lock.  From what she’s told me, though, it uses up a lot of the armor’s energy, and she was already wounded—I guess she expected something like this could happen, which is why she brought the fake eye for the first door. This one must’ve needed a password or something else she couldn’t circumvent.  Whatever the case, it was open in no time flat.

I couldn’t see much of the lab from where I stood, but as soon as the door was open Kari slipped inside moving at inhuman speeds.  Mere moments later she was back, holding in her hands a small tube containing roughly a dozen white pills.  I winced, waiting to see if she had set off some other security measure with her impatience, but fortunately no such thing occurred.

“Anything else while we’re here?” Kari asked.

Doc took the tube in her hands, beaming through her mask.  “Finally...we can do so much good with this!”

Now doesn’t that just warm your heart.  Well, not for Kari, judging by the way she was looking back into the lab with an air of appraisal.

“Okay,” I said, “we got our mark, now let’s get the hell out of here. Ready?”

I got them back across the room and turned to leave.  About three steps past the door, a piercing alarm went off. This sort of thing is so frustrating, really: this constant blaring noise throws off your focus, and there’s usually some flashing red light that distracts you too.  Not to mention it means you’ve kinda failed and put your whole job (and potentially life) in jeopardy.

“What?  How?!” Doc asked, clutching the tube tightly to her chest.

“Those guards we battled earlier must’ve regained consciousness,” Kari said. “Best we get moving, hm?”

I’d like to think this is her fault somehow.  Regardless, moving was indeed the best idea at this juncture, so the three of us dashed back towards the elevator shaft only to be cut off by a wall of security guards who immediately opened fire.  Doc and I deflected their bullets while Kari threw both hands forward and exerted her own power.  Instantly, time froze for the guards, but I knew she wouldn’t be able to hold so many for long.  And we still didn’t know what might be waiting for us past this point…

“Split up,” Kari said through clenched teeth.  “I’ll draw them back towards the lab!”

That didn’t sit well with me.  But, Doc was already moving, and I certainly didn’t want to still be standing here when these trigger-happy twits rejoined us in normal time, so I ran off down a side hallway and hoped for the best.  Soon I could hear the gunshots resume.  Up ahead I could see a large vent in the ceiling, so I reversed gravity to land next to it and climb inside; a bit of crawling later and I emerged in the same elevator shaft as earlier.  I quickly hopped back up to the wall I had been blown right through and prepared to retrace my steps.  That’s when I saw something that brought me to a screeching halt.

The three alchemar-equipped guards we had been fighting earlier?  They were still out cold, strewn across the room at random.  No way they were the ones who sounded the alarm, as Kari had suggested.  Isn’t that suspicious.

“All units, co—"

A radio clipped to one of the downed guards was bursting with sound and static. Snatching it up, I adjusted the dial to get a clearer signal.

“Repeat: intruder has doubled back towards main elevator!  Requesting backup!”

I ground my teeth in anticipation.  Sure enough, it was only a matter of seconds before Kari came bounding out of the shaft, stopping short with wide eyes when she spotted me standing there.

“What’s up, Kari?” I asked.  “Looks like it wasn’t these pricks who set off the alarm.  Got any other ideas?”

Kari put on a smile as she casually walked off to the side.  “Roche...didn’t expect you to head this way.  Well, uh, who knows?  Maybe someone spotted them, or…”

She trailed off as she realized I was increasing gravity on her.  “Or.  Maybe someone with a time-bending alchemar moved so quickly she was able to tap a pressure plate before her associates had a chance to notice.”

The next instant, Kari was right in front of me pressing a gun into my forehead. “Fascinating theory.  Supposing it’s true, what would you do next?”

“Oh, I don’t know, ask her to explain her evil plan probably.”

“Hehe, ‘evil’?  That’s adorable.  You’re expecting something far more elaborate than what your associate is going for, darling.”  She tapped her skirt with her free hand.  “I just pocketed half the pills I found.  It’ll take the good doctor a bit to reverse-engineer them, and in the meantime, I’ll be able to turn a profit unloading my own inventory.”

I should’ve expected as much, really.  Gritting my teeth, I said, “I dunno, still sounds pretty evil to me.”

Kari rolled her eyes.  “Oh, lighten up, Roche.  Look at it this way: a few people are going to have access to the drug a little sooner than planned, and at a lower price than MiliGrand is asking.  Is it so wrong that I get a little bonus out of it?”

“You really don’t get it.”

Nearby yelling alerted us to the approaching guards.  Kari pulled back with a smirk, and the two of us dashed back towards the entrance we had used, narrowly avoiding bullets all the way. Kari stayed more than a few steps ahead—doubt she would have heard me even if I had said anything.  Eventually we made it to the meetup point, finding Doc already waiting there, exuding relief at the sight of us.

“I’m so glad you two are okay!” she said.  “That was a close call, wasn’t it?”

“Nothing to worry about, darling,” Kari said.  “Escaping a place like this easy for any proper Phantom Thief.”

“Yeah,” I said, “and you too, I guess.”

Twirling her gun in her hand, Kari said, “Goodness, Roche, no need to be so petty. Let’s go back to HQ and celebrate a job well done.”

I turned to Witch Doctor.  “She pocketed some pills.”

Pain.  Thankfully alchemars’ protective fields can be left on even when the main power isn’t active, keeping us alive when greedy assholes shoot us in the side of the head, but the bullet still hurts like hell.

“You just had to spoil the good mood, didn’t you?” Kari said.

Doc jumped and backed away.  “K...Kari! What are you doing?!”

“I gave him fair warning, and it’s not like he’s dead.  Look at what you’ve done, Roche: she’s distressed.”

It might not have been quite on par with getting blasted through a wall, but getting shot still proved enough to push me over my limit.  “Kari, why the hell did you even join the Phantom Network?! If you’re only in this for the money, then you don’t understand what sets us apart from the elite bastards we’re stealing from!”

Kari seemed unimpressed by my display.  “I’m sorry, have I hampered your noble cause in any way?  It’s not as though I’ve taken all the pills for my own, or swapped them out with fakes or any such thing.  I’m simply—"

“Securing more money for yourself, I know.  You weren’t satisfied with what Doc had already promised you, so you didn’t see anything wrong with helping yourself to whatever else you wanted.”

“No, I don’t.  As I just said, the numbers—"

“It’s not about the damn numbers!  That’s my entire point!  We may need to turn a profit to make ends meet, but the rest of us are doing this because we care about what the Phantom Network represents! We’re surviving this system to do our part to bring it down, but you’re trying to use it for your own benefit!”

She shot me again.  I didn’t really care.

“You don’t even know what ‘honor among thieves’ means.  You’re just a common criminal who doesn’t care about anyone but herself!”

Kari was taking aim for a third shot when Witch Doctor shouted, “Stop!  That’s enough!”

We both went still.

“...Please.  Let’s just head back.  All that really matters is that we’ve got the drug.  I don’t…”

She trailed off.  My frustration had waned a bit by now, so I was actually feeling just a little bit guilty. Kari holstered her gun and said, “Excellent idea.  Shall we, Roche?”

Tempting.  Quite tempting.  “Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

And I did.  Doc paid us and got right to work reverse-engineering the drug, and in less than a week she was taking it to contacts in medical facilities around the world.  I’m sure Kari had sold out her inventory well before then.  Much as she pisses me off, the fact is that what she does just isn’t any of my business, so I’m not gonna tattle on her to the Network Admin or anything. But there’s no way in hell I’m working with her again.  Even a wonder drug wouldn’t be enough to get her to change.

[zeroglitchtic-blog]

Here To Change It All...

Hey Guys -

So hmmm… What can I say? Ok, well I have been working on this Business Plan for the past 13 years. I took the past 13 years and developed a final plan to solve Homelessness, Poverty, and Sexual Exploitation. It took me around 3 years just to get an idea about and to learn how Crypto Currency can fund the entire business. Unfortunately due to Crypto Currency Mining the video cards I need for it are about $4,500.00ea. And I need 20 of them to complete one Build. On another note I invented a game app and the other night I invented another App idea too. It will be cool to get them made for real. Right now I’m kind of in an obsession with this Pastel Goth look and I want to create my own look by taking some Bell Bottoms from this company called Gypsy Rose and a cool Hoodie and then order Bulk Boxes of the same color Boas and a Hemp Back Pack and some clothing LED Lights and to sew them on to the clothing really carefully to get an amazing look and to buy some books on Cosplay Makeup, Glam Makeup, and Tutorials on Makeup for Black People and create my own Glam Goth look. I want to produce the images into products for my new store when I open it. I have worked for over a decade on my plan to rescue the homeless, people in need, exploited kids and adults and it took me three years of researching Ethereum Mining to0 figure out how I would fund my company. One NVIDIA.com Video card will cost me around $4,500.00 to get the best one they have and the most profitable of them and my build that I designed takes 20 Video Cards and brings in around $10K/mo. So I’ll make Hundreds of Thousands of them and fill every business location I gets basement with as many Builds as will fit and warehouses full of them too. Once I get going a lot of people will want for little anymore. I told my fiancé that I would set him up with another personal place of his own, like a loft or something and have several Ethereum Miners there just for him and I’ll show him how to use them and make money with them so that we’ll be on more equal footing and I’ll have legal documents setup that will supply him with his own place and no matter what our relationship turns out to be that I can’t cut him off or affect him in any way to upset his stability and financials. I hope to have it setup before we get married. I plan on having several locations to live over time but one of the very first locations that I get and setup is going to be a three bedroom apartment that I’ll setup to be displayed on my company’s home page in the same way that a 365 degree display of Real Estate Property is displayed except that I hope to use the help of Ad Agents to have special products setup, like displays from Coca Cola, and other Brands and to get the Companies displayed to provide donations for the advertisements.

I hope to land contracts that are with like laundry soap and cleaning supplies and brands of Pre-Paid Credit and Gift Cards, and Electronics, etc. To use only their brands at my locations for special discounts or with some kind of residual donations from them, so things like Bed Bath and beyond and Companies that sell bedding and so on. I hope to get special accounts or even to open Hundreds of Reseller Accounts and purchase from my own accounts. I’ll have fractureme.com High Def Glass Photos hanging on the walls that display images of homelessness and people living in poverty, etc. As the artwork and otherward the location will be setup with Height of Technology in i9t and Luxury and excellent decorations and renovations with new smart appliances and if possible in home laundry too. The entire apartment will be setup to look as if a family lives there that has two kids, a boy and girl and the rooms will be fully setup and stocked with clothing and desks and school supplies, software, text books, reading books, game stations and games, CDs, DVDs, Anime, and Desktop and Laptop on the bed with MP3 Player and cell phone on its charger and even a few pieces of trash in the trash cans and so on, even the adults rooms will be setup the same with a Home Office and files in the living room, etc. Every room will come with their own safes and have finger print and key pad locking doors and in the safes will c0ome an envelope full of cash and several types of pre-paid cards. The computers will be top of the line and Extreme types, totally maxed out, with extensive external Hard Drives and full of useful software that is fully paid for and more. Once the 365 degree walkthrough Video is made than everything will be packed into specially positioned glass cases for display, so like the laptop, cell phones, digital cameras, camcorders, Gift Cards, and some other things will go into displays so that when there are walk trough's to help gain donors less can be stolen easily. I will spend a lot of time setting up the location with a simply safe security system and register everything in the apartment with renters insurance and register them with their own individual companies. I’ll have the entire place setup with services and each room with smaller Ethereum Miners that work and are actively earning money and have monitors on the walls that display the earnings and exchanges pricing in each room. But the apartment will be maintained by my financial Company that I get. Every Account would be active, the lease, the cable, the Home Phone, mobile phones, Internet, and all the individual emails, and all the software will be registered to those emails and even Turn-Key online businesses and so on setup as examples and displays for the apartment and newsletters, and more with ads for the Turn-Key Businesses. The files in the Offices and kids rooms will hold the Hard Copy files of all the Accounts and Registration Info and Gamer Info. Emails and Advertisement info and more, including the online versions, Browser favorite links, and profile saves, address books filled out and more. It seems like a lot but every tiny detail will be through of from every item being photographed and filed with their own insurance, registrations, and receipts, to even unique personally searched out and handpicked USB Drives that are installed with PortableApps.com software and paid versions of the software on those apps and all of it filed and registered both digitally and in Hard Copy.

And there will be a personalized welcome Manual for each person and all their accounts and how the apartment works, the Wi-Fi locks, the smart TV Accounts, their personal safe’s codes, and every computer log-in, how and where to find all their Hard Copy and Digital Account info and if something comes up missing or breaks how to file for renters insurance to replace it and police reports and how to contact their financial Agent for financial Aid and for when they want to go to college or to file a new bill or account for them to manage and also how their personal Ethereum Miner earns them their own money so that they are not tied to their financial allowance’s leash. There will be so much attention to detail because it will be the display house/apartment used for fund raising. It will be decorated and setup with extra details like Artist’s Piggy Banks around the rooms to collect donations and drop safes for people to donate Pre-Paid Cards and Checks and Cash, cell phones and I’ll have a Turn-Key Business in the home that people can buy and donate gift cards and cell phones, clothing cards, and tablets, laptops and to donate money by credit cards too. I’ll even setup cat climbing towers in all the corners and High End cat walks and rests on the walls and toy holders, etc. even Automatic cat boxes that clean and wash their own litter and cat supplies and dog products if the apartment allows dogs and more considerations that are suited for hosting gatherings and even just ease of today’s technological society like a moveable arm under a cabinet in the kitchen that holds a water proof tablet that is dedicated solely to cooking sites, and Home Food Delivery services. There will be cool little personal touches too from unique USB Drives to interesting lamps like this collectors Yoda Lamp and displays of air plants and even like on the desks will be pencils and pens with my company’s custom website on them and possibly even Antique Typewriter on a typing desk with several boxes of extra ribbon and Company Letterhead Quality Paper stacked next to it, possibly with a sheet in the type writer with the beginning page of one of my novels on it or a letter addressed to my First Business Location. And a typed and stamped addressed envelope next to it. I’ll do things like add magazines to the coffee table and things like expensive items will get locked inside display cubes or fastened to where they are. But most of the place will be meant to be fully interactive and the greeters and Hosts of the Donor Parties will be able to show the guests the fully interactive features of the apartment and all of its services, etc. From Posters on the kid’s walls and little Anime and Action Figurines to online Gamer Merchandise of in-game-content from the most popular games like Fortnight and stuff and most of the Books and movies will be excellent Sci-fi Hard Copy Novels of the Greats and books I’ve Loved. The Anime will be Deluxe Full Seasons with all the extra content and really cool 0ones and really good DVD Collections that are kid appropriate and in the parents room they will have more Adult titles like the complete Silence of the Lambs and Hannibal TV Series and Dexter Series, and John Wick Series and other Good Ones and in the kids room will be Ultimate Gamer Setups in a relaxation area away from sight of the desk so the kids won’t game and watch TV while they do homework and out of the bed area so they can have a shut down time and not game and stuff while they are supposed to shut down and sleep and they’ll have an Xbox, Play Station and Gamer Computer with all the VR and Bells and Whistles and even google Home Video Slate Devices on their Desk and By their Beds. The home will have several of them by each sitting area and then the Dot versions mounted on walls around the halls and a water proofed one in the bathroom so that there is whole home connectivity along with all the Tablets and Laptops and PCs connected to the Norton Secured Network as well as smart lights and even security cameras and a Door Peep Hole Device that Projects a large Video of who is at the door and takes photos of who comes to the door and sends it to the owners phone and that also allows for smart lock activation. The apartment will be the epitome of Beauty, Luxury, and Comfort and people that come to the home will be able to view installed manikins that are wearing company uniforms for all around seasons and types, the most expensive being the Winter ne that comes with heated gloves and socks and shoe insoles and Extreme Cold Military Boots and heat shell Jackets and full snow outfits. The outfits will come with their own pedestals that will have fliers on them that explain what the services that they go to are and the equipment needed for each one, like the House Keeping one, the Personal Assistant, the Odd Job, and snow removal, the Food Delivery one and like how much it will cost for the work vans and trucks and snow blowers and shovels and painting/cleaning supplies and the storage unit rentals for the equipment and cost of the uniforms that will each have my company Logo Embroidered on them and on each will be an employee Tag just like all employees will have. Another presentation will be video presentations played on loops on the screens in the living room that explain how my company will hire students fresh out of colleges that are entering the fields of nursing, psychology, and social work, legal aid, and about the services that will come with my company that will help any homeless person with absolutely nothing and addiction issues fully recover their lives with personally adapted services and complete financial support so that even if they are dealing with drug issues that they won’t need to sell their new property or prostitute for funding and that they will receive full support while they attend to their rehab needs as well as fully paid trade and college schooling and financial investments that are everything from timed trust payouts at major age milestones, to retirement and regular funds for travel around the world. There will be full employment programs inside my company and in the mainstream markets and my company will pay companies to keep employees hired and to hire people in need as well as options for customers that do things like use our yard service as incentives to keep my employees hired like getting major yard work done, in ground lawn sprinklers installed and landscaping, home repairs, and other improvements and upgrades to their utilities and home like the best water heaters, Hot Tubs, new Fences and so on to keep my company on contract for lawn care and snow removal and housekeeping and food delivery and so on. It will all be done by professionals in the fields when done and then my clients will up keep it with a flawless and no questions asked insurance and replacement process in case something is ever broken or stolen and there will be tons of other services since everyone in the world suffers from some state of poverty and need, that my company will collect even my customers into my fold and provide them with financial aids, paid schooling, debt payment, and doing things like picking up car and home payments and medical needs. Some families that have Autistic Children or Severally Handicapped family members or people with major medical needs or who are getting too old to take care of those family members, my company will search out and supply them with things like 24/7 live in Aids and money for uncovered medicines or experimental Treatments that their HMOs won’t cover and cosmetic Treatments and more. My company will do more than just that. I’ll use schools of Architecture to create fortified locations of Housing for over 100 Ethereum Miners that will bring in over $1 Million per month and have them built into schools so that teachers will be able to receive Top Pay and the schools will have more than enough for the best in school supplies and equipment and teaching Aids and like an example would be that the limited language learning classes would have a full computer network setup with every language that Rosetta Stone’s Language software offers and every student will have the ability to choose what language to learn. There will be funds for every extracurricular activity and my plans are to adopt the Chinese and Japanese attendance unit where kids swipe in and out of classes except I’ll make it so that kids will actually get paid cash to attend classes and to do homework and extra credit and science fairs and if they aren’t doing well to get tutors and to help others and that it will do things like give economics classes real money and be able to do real things with the money and learn firsthand and school papers and news how to do very real publications and run ads and more. My company will invest in local Mom & Pop shops and the community and get them to keep selling at rock bottom prices but selling High End Products so that the struggling community that uses them will suddenly be able to afford things like really good toilet paper, and snacks for their kids and eat well every day and even though I won’t be able to reach everyone and help the whole city, by proxy the community will become happier and their mood change will make the community better as a whole. I’ll do the same for places that serve food and coffee shops too so that they can drop their prices and use better quality foods and cleaning supplies and decorations and pay better because than the community will be able to come out and eat more and have more family experiences to build a healthier family around and memories and the community will become stronger for it. I’ll do things like take a Digital Camera and GoPro and go to every run-a-way shelter, and battered woman’s shelter and Underground Railro0ad project and Drop-In Center and Teen Challenge Center and photograph the entire area and interview everyone and find out what they need and what needs fixing and what they wish they could provide and install the best beds and most comfortable sheets and fluffiest comforters and turn them into wonder locations and expand their services and get all the kids and people new clothing and school supplies and make it rain and put them on above comfortable expense accounts. I’ll do the same for Orphanages and Un-Adopted kids that are too old, all the while setting up Luxury Apartments and Auction Houses and emptying out every shelter and soup kitchen and giving these Betrayed Souls what society should have done for them from day one. There are a million tiny things that I’ll be doing and I��ll write you all about them in upcoming letters. It took me 9 years to figure out how to do all this and it will take major Donors and Corporate Donors for me to afford to build enough Ethereum Miners to afford to do it quickly. But I’m going to dedicate the rest of my life to thi9s. Mommy Anne is giving me a $10,000.00 Trust and I’ll put it into my first beginner Ethereum Miner and it will only earn me about $2K/mo. And I’ll have to save and buy more of the best NVIDIA Video Cards and add to it. My build will hold 20 Cards and cost me around $88.505.70 to complete and make me around $10K/mo. when done. My goal is to reach 100 builds as fast as possible using Kickstarters.com and every crowd funding site on the internet and every social media network from around the globe. My work won’t just start and stop in Minnesota or even the USA. Once I am at a point where I have enough Ethereum Miners I’ll be able to expand them at a rate of 50-100 or more at a time creating $1 Million/mo. Jumps in income and higher with more donors and my work will jump boarders and I’ll hire kids and young adults from ar0und the world to locate and rescue their needy and sexually exploited and Brothel Children and people living in Poverty. I just hope I can do it fast enough to see it all happen before I die. I would start gofundme.com and kickstarter.com and dozens of other crowd funding sites and spread them across every social media and network possible but I need a cell phone. I’d also write to several Ad Agencies and give them a rundown of my plans and what I want them to do and have them create the Crowd Funding Ads for me because each site is different, has different formats, options for photos and Banners, and voice and the amount of words for each site and burn them onto disc for me and label them so that when I get out all I have to do is cut and paste and upload image 1,2,3 into spot 1,2,3 and know that there’s no grammar errors and I don’t come off sounding like a scam artist but I have no money for that. I’d also like to get Uncle Steve to help me setup my Business Financials so it’s fully tax exempt and so I can do angel giving like write random checks or give out cash or life time paid phones and more and write it off but he refuses to acknowledge me. Anyways… I haven’t written or spoken too many of you in over a couple decades and I wanted to tell you about my new life. Oh I’m an ordained Minister now too. There are several fun things that I want to do that are just to do because they are fun and good for the kid at heart and things that all kids wish they could do. I want to invest a lot into kid’s lives and their fun factor so I want to do things like get big into street fashion from around the world and to create an opportunity for kids to dress in amazing outfits from Japan and that are High Fashion and Cosplay styles and totally awesome so that going to school and dressing up crazy and amazing just becomes a daily part of life. In schools I want to start Drone Racing Programs with Regulation Drones and awesome courses. I want to get schools into robotics and nautical robotics and aerial Drones and to inspire kids to create water cleaners and air cleaners and alternate fuel and to program the most popular Virtual Reality World Communities as classes and to setup classes that have real life work training to them like how to use complicated office copiers and corporate email systems and multi-line phone setups and digital faxes and to change toners and create orders and write and produce proposals for meetings and run projectors and make digital presentations transfer from your personal office to the proper conference room on time and run flawlessly and to be able to do it using multiple types of software and types of the leading tools found in companies today.

I want to create several Safe Zone Houses in Drug Zones that were “Trap Houses” where people use drugs or sell drugs out of and clean them out and fix them up really well and set them up to be locations that street kids can come and Game and to get Hot meals and Great sandwiches at any time Day or Night and that people can come and get Hot Showers and wash their clothing and get Hygiene Products and fresh underwear and new clothing and shoes and Back Packs and school supplies and can get medical care from the nursing staff and have emergency beds Sometimes prostitutes and Drug Addicts need a hot shower, some good food to eat and a place that is safe to sleep at night behind a door that locks where they can feel safe for a moment in the Hell they are experiencing and a locker and safe to lock their property in so that they know that they can actually fall completely asleep without fear that someone will go through their pockets or demand sex. I want to setup each room with as much luxury and comfort as I dare with addicts coming and going and kids without safe homes. I want the beds to be super comfy and to even have weighted blankets and body pillows because weighted blankets give people a sensory feeling of safety and comfort and body pillows allow people to cuddle with someone who takes nothing in return. That is important. The bed must be super comfy and cozy, with too many pillows with a sitting chair that has a throw on it and book case filled with great novels and Manga Books and Built in Computers with a wide variety of Downloaded music and complimentary MP3 Player and paper for writing and an Antique Typewriter with Letterhead typing paper and Envelopes with a sign that says “free mail service down stairs.” I’ll have a laser printer attached to the computer and scanner and hookups for phones available. There will be a decent sound system and gaming counsel with downloaded and installed games on it and Xbox Live Account Active and setup, all secured so it can’t be stolen. There will be an intercom system and by the bed sweets and pamphlets for my Life Recovery Services. The rooms will not be meant for long term stays, usually just one-three days unless there are special and extreme cases. In the common areas will be ultimate gaming setups and multiple mounted TVs that have the ability to connect to wireless headphones so people won’t have to compete for sound if they are watching multiple TVs at once. In the back area will be a full computer lab and education center setup for kids and I’ll have staff that can help anyone with school work they need to get done. Like I said there are a million little things that I plan on doing with my Business. I found a vending company that allows for digital pricing and for an extra $900.00 I can add a credit card processer to it so I’m going to set several types up in different locations. I’m going to use retro ones that take coins and place them in apartment complexes that dispense single serve laundry detergent boxes and fabric softener packs and snack machine pop machine mixes. Than in some locations I’m going to use sources of pre-painted and sculpted fingernails that you can buy off line like on Etsy.com, Tumblr.com, and other sites and put them in machines that are at like malls and possibly schools and arcades and places kids go and have them wired to process credit cards and then put in random packs Pre-Paid Credit Cards with High Balances and advertise the chance to win one. I plan to run donation funding campaigns so that I can afford to supply them free and laptops with paid wireless PCI Cards for free to the kids at St. Jude’s Cancer Research Hospital and other Hospitals and Mental Health Programs that can’t afford to provide them for their patients but who’s patients need a distraction from their extreme illnesses and to do something with their families when they come to visit and for patients to be entertained by with their families. Something that happens to every person with a mental health issue that goes into the mental health system is that they end up losing every possession that they own and their entire apartments full of their lives get tossed in the trash. It’s happened to me 13 times and when I was young and pretty I ended up prostituting to replace over $26,000.00 of property some times. And so do many others. So one thing I’ll do is setup an apartment and property cleaning and packing service that washes all the dirty clothing and sheets and dishes and surfaces and professionally packs everything properly in bubble wraps and garment bo0xes and move and packs the entire apartment, moving it to self-storage units that the patients social security will pay for and for the paranoid patients photos and videos of the process will be taken and delivered on DVDs and the entire apartment will be cleaned and painted back to white with fire resistant paint so that their deposit will get returned to them. Because the mental health system never slows down from sending people back to mental hospitals the business will be a stable service from the start. I want to do some really cool things for kids in schools and all around on buying they super amazing clothing from Japan and China and other fashionable street looks that they normally couldn’t get or are too expensive for them and their families. There was this young boy that actually did it for his school but he got suits and proper fashion and I think it’s really important for kids not to lose that childhood part too soon so instead of suits I want to buy them awesome clothing that fits their aesthetic and that is beyond their reach financially and make it really fund and cool to be able to dress in their own uniqueness and not the regular jeans and T-Shirts. I am also going to download countless tutorials on how to do Beauty Tips like nails crafting, Hair and Makeup techniques from the simple to the extremely complex and to create DVD Collections of all of them and put them in special DVD Cases that hold 10 and 20 DVDs and maybe over 100 Tutorials and then sell them in Genre collections in magazines like Teen Beat and 17 and Girl Magazines. I’ll also do the same for people that are into crafting from the easy to really technical and some from landscaping to building computers and smart mirrors and more and collections of clothing patters and fashion techniques and cosplay techniques and more and sell those in collections in their genre of magazines too. I’ll do the same with cooking tutorials and recipe collections that are all both video and photos and print .pdf formats. I’ll do genres of Home Design and Projects from hanging pictures to making gardens to extreme projects like building underground Prepper Bunkers. Most of these collections I’ll build up over time I spend surfing the internet. I do a lot of Data Mining and read and learn a lot because I'm curious but now I’ll have focused products to create. Something else that I’ll do is assemble teaching tools for classrooms by using paid accounts on sites like curiosity stream and locating lectures and explanations on sciences and other subjects from simple math to high level theoretical math, sciences, biology, space science, robotics and AI, Virtual Worlds. I’ll even put together sex education presentations of different types and present them to multiple schools for review. Some schools don’t allow real sex education, some teach abstinence, others only teach STDs and so on. It will be a balancing act. Some might want diagrams and some might actually allow real images of sex organs and then there are practices of different cultures to consider and explanations of circumcisions and the Muslim culture that clip or burn off female baby’s clitoris and the explanations of their shawls. There are the full stories behind puberty and when females go through maturity and what they need to do when that happens. The changes in Boys and Girls the ages they change at, Birth Control, options of rape pregnancy pill options and the ways that people can give up a child if it’s too much for them instead of killing it. How adoptions work, the options of sperm donations, egg donations, and surrogacy, the birth process, C sections, and vaginal bi9rths, the drugs (epidermal) the effect of drugs and alcohol that will go through breast milk into the baby and HIV and how HIV is inside Breast milk. Types of parenting same sex parenting and relationships and even same sex rapes and domestic violence and more. The healthy beauty behind same sex relationships not just straight ones. Also things like medical issues, Handicaps, Autism, and more and pre born and medical dangers that can happen and what to do, ways to prepare for if your baby has a disability and more. It may take a ton of work to do but once a school accepts the educational program the work will be worth it. I want to create Job skill development programs and more. I want to actually change the entire education system. And the Prison Reform system. I’ll write more about those things in another letter. I (have a ton of personal experiences that give an insight into the world that most people don’t have and motivations that people don’t understand why someone would spend a fortune only to give it all away again. The thing is that money and wealth mean nothing to me. It’s just an annoyance and an obstacle and a social retardant. My Business will solely be about making people and their lives and futures and not about making profits and products. My entire life has consisted of setting up stages and being an advertisement so that I could make money and void of friendships, love, or connections, not even to my own family which has been my greatest sadness. Mommy Anne has been my only connection to hearing about my family’s lives and what’s going on with them my whole life and Aunt Barbie writes me about her farm life but that is about it. Rarely do I get a letter from Julia or Aunt Beverly. Once I went 5 whole years without coming into physical contact with another person or speaking to anyone and I think it really freaked mommy Anne out that I’m not talkative or Haggier but I’ve been conditioned as a child and again since the age of 11yo. When I entered the mental Hospital Systems and group homes never to touch or hug anyone because it’s not supposed to happen in hospitals and group homes which is where I was raised for 89% of my life. I’ve maybe spent 10 hours with my own Brother during my entire life and maybe spoken with him about half that without having actually any meaningful exchanges other than casual polite conversations not counting just being in the same location at the same time. And dramatically less with the rest of my family. I mainly just dressed nice and sat around waiting to be talked to or asked questions. I faced Addiction, Mental illness, multiple sexual assaults, rape that left me with HIV, Contracting HIV, Homelessness twice, forced prostitution, Two Attempted murders on me, a Home invasion and six suicide attempts and child abuse and a laundry list a mile long including starvation and eating out of dumpsters because I refused to prostitute alone without even a card from my family like “Hey sorry you got HIV” or “Too bad you ended up with a mental illness for 30 years” or “Hey heard you are struggling with addiction, that’s rough.” or “hey your homeless, it’s not much but here’s $20 get some dollar burgers at McDonalds.” or “hmmm… raped! Rough.” or “Hay when you are going to bring a boyfriend to X-Mass?” or “Suicide, wish you wouldn’t do that we like having you around.” Once I went into the Hospital after a suicide attempt that involved 3 cop cars pulling me off a ledge on the side of a parking ramp and I weighed 118lbs. I usually weigh 175-180lbs and that is skinny for myself. I know things like friendships and Love from a boyfriend and happi9ness because of the absolute void of it in my life. I know it perfectly and intimately on a deep level because I have never experienced it. It’s an odd kind of knowledge to have. I use to watch YouTube videos and Troll peoples feeds, not so much as to observe their lives as much as to see what they had on their bedroom walls and what they wear and what was around them and try to figure out what it was that gave them all the feelings and excitements and joys in life that I never knew. All my life I never had a single poster on my wall or anything that wasn’t a tool for survival, no plants, no color paint on my walls, nothing that would display warmth or comfort or personality or a Home. And it was all trappings of a stage set that I occupied but never truly lived in. The only thing that had decoration or meaning of any kind was inside my Computers and Hard Drives and my Data Mining Collections of Music, .pdf files, photos, and social media and blogs and modeling photos. Outside of the digital world I had nothing but pain and suffering, rage, and sadness, and isolation, and complete loneness and mental and emotional damage that eventually became so vast and so deep that I had to use as much drugs as possible not just to fight it back and numb myself to it but to even remove myself from the equation, for many years I just stayed alive out of spite of it all. It was one thing that broke me out of my inner bondage and that was a homeless man that I’d passed over a dozen times and he always sat in his spot and I saw him that morning while going to a client’s house and then that night after dancing into exhaustion at a club. It was late and the snow had started to fall but in a ring around his body was a bare circle from his body heat and he hadn’t moved all day. Across the street was a Target and the man had nothing, no food containers around him, nothing. People had walked by him all day and shopping at Target and no one thought once to go across the street and give him a pop or can of soup and I had been a prostitute for years helping dozens of homeless kids and minors with a safe free place to stay, even pulling tricks to pay other people’s rent and maxed out two credit cards buying a fellow meth addict food and toiletries and that one man sat there all day, every day and no one helped him and Target Managers never gave him a job. Shortly after that I came to this Center and for the last 13 years here in this long term treatment program, every single day for hours a day and deep into the night I have written thousands of pages in Journals, collected every magazine and catalog I could find, filled over 45 journals with notes and resources and links and scrap booked and spent my Dad’s entire $4,800,00 inheritance money from when he died on Business Manuals and researched Crypto Currency for 3 years, read 5 books on it and spent years going to every site in the books and checking them out, watching YouTube videos, going onto bulletin boards and blogs until I learned what I needed to learn to design the most powerful Ethereum Miner possible all the while with a goal to end Homelessness, Unemployment, sexual exploitation and to improve the world and fought for years just to have the right to use my free time to write and study. And I solved it. I figured out a social service Business that will fully recover almost anyone's life and it has finally given me an ounce of peace. Now I just need the people here to give me the chance I need to get out and do it and to live a better life than the one that was quickly killing me. I’ve spent 13 years working on my plans and there are a lot of them and I hear repeatedly to focus on one thing but what people don’t understand is that it is all one thing. I’m not helping one or two people. I’m helping over 30,000 homeless people and exploited kids and people living in poverty. One thing can’t solve that. An entire population of people not only need money but a place to live, jobs to support themselves, and other help and those helpers need to get paid and other communities need fortifications to help the rest of the population that is in need and it’s not for one summer or one year or even 30 years. Every year hundreds of kids become exploited, thousands become homeless and more live in poverty and the cycle will continue long after I’m dead. I have to start building the strongest foundation possible that will last and support generations of people now and long after I’m dead and that won’t happen with me getting a pizza delivery job or a lawn mowing business going. I have to start something so revolutionary that those that pick up where I leave will one day be able to change the lives of Millions of people in need and people in need around the world and it will take Huge Donors and Crowd Funding and rewriting of policies and dismantling of antiquated industries and building new ones.

[markhengis90-blog]

What Beautifull Full Set Nails Is - and What it Is Not

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Dessert & Sour Chick.

At long last, I'm discussing the dish I have actually perhaps created the absolute most because Adriana began eating solids (which in some way believes that for life earlier and also just last night simultaneously). I made all of them this morning as well as certainly they appeared higher and also fluffy and failed to have extremely to deliver left alone in the oven for a while. Low in fats and saturated fat each providing, it acts as a healthy and balanced and one-of-a-kind alternative for dinner. Candida fungus, little intestinal bacterial overgrowth (SIBO), and also other fungus and bacterial overgrowth indicate your small intestine cannot appropriately take in or absorb nutrients, causing food cravings, desires, and also irritation that bring about weight loss resistance. Your internet site as well as cookbook has altered my cooking area, my preparing food as well as our team are eating much more vegetations! If you don't know where to start when it pertains to making healthy meals selections - or even if you are presently following a well-balanced, healthy and balanced diet plan but require some new dish concepts - our company have united our 10 favored blog sites to resort to for fresh, periodic, whole-grain cooking (and baking). I know where I could buy affordable, yummy vegetarian creamy cheeses, yet considering that I am allergic to corn I can not possess most of all of them. As for the nutritional web content, consider this records (PDF) on standard African ruminant marrow", courtesy of Loren Cordain. Vegetables are actually a really good source of thread, vitamins, minerals as well as antioxidants so they should become part of a healthy and balanced and also well balanced diet. Additionally, http://lifestyleblog-hu.com/choco-lite-hatasos-szer-fogyasra-hatasok-velemenyek-forum-ara-hol-kaphato/ as well as fish excel sources of potassium, yet the blood potassium is going to filtrate out in to one's cooking tool. Recently, I proclaimed my passion of midwest delightful corn and because of this, I obtained a bunch requests for additional methods to use corn while this is actually in peak time. My target was actually 10 minutes prep, as well as I generally clock in at around 7 or 8 minutes (when I have my cooking food game skin on!). The vegetables listed below for the beating was initially briefly prepared on the stovetop (or else they obtain dried out in the stove and also do not prepare as carefully). Very seriously ... as somebody which deals with packing well-balanced lunch times (and a shortage from forethought!), this is actually great. On a much a lot less serious note, portion of ending up being vegetarian was actually negligence - I regularly hated cooking meat ... the cleanup ... questioning if this is actually performed yet ... Our document is him consuming healthy vegetarian dinner for 2 weeks without noticing. I fought with an eating condition as well as presumed that eating healthy was actually if the package deal claimed fat-free, sugar-free, etc. as well as like I pointed out package deal! You will definitely have even more energy and also stamina, you'll heal your body system naturally with the phytochemicals and also well-balanced fats and also healthy proteins in these meals, and also you might view your state of mind, memory, and intellectual function improve too. I was therefore happy to review these and flee off consuming evident tossed salad and also rice spaghetti. So I thought it may be exciting to highlight a few of things our team have actually been cooking and also eating this week at the beach front along with a few things that our experts would certainly possess been cooking as well as eating if our company had additional opportunity below on our little vacay. Yes, there are actually valid reasons to appreciate raw plants in your diet regimen, but I do not assist the strategy as an action or exclusionary guideline for consuming Humans have actually been actually preparing for over a hundred 1000 years Some nutrients are enhanced through warm. Likewise, if you think your stove operates very hot, I would certainly suggest obtaining an over thermostat to be sure as that could surely help make a distinction. For me, the work associated with food preparation had not been difficult, but did call for analysis and re-reading recipes, and preparing calculated laundry list. Explore fun, healthy substitutes for your favorite meals that are going to help you far better meet your macros. I more than happy I discovered your website due to the fact that I am attempting to launch and ease on my own from these uncontrollable tendencies and merely reside my lifestyle caring well-balanced meals. Your body will promptly adapt to your new, far healthier consuming strategy, and you will certainly finish the purify emotion refreshed, light as well as healthy and balanced. After browning the chick upper legs in sets, I browned the pearl onions in the bacon oil combineded with the fat coming from the hen thighs. The food items movement could not exist without everyone managing to take home new, local area produce as well as make a great tasting dish coming from that. The process of in fact preparing food is actually one of the most private method our experts can associate with the food movement. Chef Shortcuts is actually a new once a week cooking set on HuffPost Flavor where I will definitely inquire a number of the globe's ideal chefs to discuss one fantastic suggestion, one food preparation procedure they have actually learned in all their years in qualified kitchen areas. While investigating simple facts about Hambāgu on Japanese Wiki, I knew that there is a United States version of hamburger steak and that is actually extremely just like a dish contacted Salisbury Steak, both of which I have actually never made an effort just before. The recipe was actually coming from a wonderful small dining establishment in Tallinn, and also featured flambeing the deep-fried chicken livers (I nearly melted the cooking area down!), preparing a batch of raisin syrup to flavour the paté (utilized the cooked raisins for a pleasant pie eventually) and after that pushing the entire thing with a fine net filter (took permanently!). Previous attempts have actually left me believing a bit dissatisfied, like I was actually just eating a well-balanced dessert that tasted like avocado and cacao grain. All your dishes would be nice to invite print ... I have no idea how you could possibly formulate a lot more!! Examine the instructions on the turkey package; that is actually most likely that you will not have to clear away the tie unless you are actually preparing the chicken at a really high temperature. Love her concepts and showing our company her food preparation approaches and thoroughly delight in all the recipes that I have made an effort. Stella: Corn carbohydrate is amidon in French, or even Maizena (one might utilize white potato carbohydrate also), as well as corn syrup is actually blood sugar. I used an actors iron pot to cook all of them in and also I needed quickly to learn channel to reduced warm (unless you like singed sides) finished in the stove. I started with a classic corn chowder making use of blended and also whole clean pieces, onion, dairy, cream, and also garlic but included some jalapeño as well as chili powder for flavor and used cooked black as well as tiny red grains rather than potatoes for bulk. If I were actually the type of person which requested for healthy and balanced chocolate pubs as well as superfood smoothie combines for my birthday celebration (pointer: I am), I will ask for these classy pretties.

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Improve Your Fitness By Following This Advice

If you don't feel fit, you will not be  yoga burn ignite reviews  able to do the things you want to do, plus, you will end up feeling bad about yourself and your life. You don't have to let this happen to you just because you don't have the information you need to get started. Try one or more of the great tips in the article below.

In order to get the most out of your mountain biking fitness routine, be sure to shift your weight forward when tackling a hill. This will cause more of your weight to be distributed to the front tire and give you more traction. Learn to get a feel for how much you need to distribute, and you'll find that you will have much more success climbing.

Try counting calories to promote fitness. When  becoming limitless reviews  you're knowledgeable about the amount of calories you've been consuming, it'll be easier to make sure you're losing the weight you want. Consuming a reduced amount of daily calories and exercising on a regular basis will help you get fit quickly.

There is no need to fear. Cycling is also a outback belly burner reviews  great fitness option. Instead of taking a car or public transportation, you can bicycle to work. It will be an inexpensive way for you to get fit, have fun, and get to work. If you bicycle 5 miles each way to work you will be adding about an hour a day of workout time.

Obviously, you want to make your  exercise efforts work for you as well as possible. Evidence suggests that regular stretching may increase your strength by as much as 20 percent. Be sure to pause before and after every set of movements and stretch the relevant muscles for at least 20 seconds. Adding a few easy stretches to your workout can increase its effectiveness.

When you are planning your gym  regimen, make sure that you include cardio as often as possible. An hour on the treadmill will not only help you to tone your body, but can reduce the excess fat that you have on your stomach, arms and legs. This will go a long way to improving your appearance.

If you have a finger or two that always Health  seems to get jammed during sports or training, try taping them. All you do is tape them to a neighboring finger as a bit of added support. This added strength will be less likely to cause those fingers to bend at strange angles.

Choose your exercises and lifting programs carefully, if you are aiming at weight-loss as your ultimate goal. Certain weight-training regimens are designed to add muscle bulk to your frame or increase power-lifting and short-twitch muscles. These exercises may actually increase your weight. To lose unwanted fat and pounds, choose exercises that build lean muscle and tone your body. Perform higher numbers of repetitions at lower weight in order to build this kind of muscle.

Form is crucial in many of the exercises that you will be doing. Many people do not have the right form when they perform a squat. To do this, but a bench underneath you before you squat. Then bend your knees until your butt touches the bench.

Try a one-legged bike ride, but keep your balance. Use one leg to both forcefully push the pedal down and pull it back up. Let your other leg rest on the pedals without using it for any pressure. Switch the legs up on occasion for a great workout with minimal effort.

If you are an avid rock-climber, buy uncomfortably tight shoes. While this may seem counter-productive, it actually gives you the ability to feel every nook and cranny you may have otherwise missed, and your grip will be better. You should be able to stand in the shoes, but not walk in them.

Think of taking your dog for a walk as a part of your fitness program. Chances are that your pooch enjoys going for walks, and it probably will not become bored with that activity any time soon. Take it slow at first. Walk around a couple blocks and start to build from there. This is one of the good things about having a dog.

You can really build all around muscles by doing dead lifts. This exercise involved using your muscles in your back to lift a bar with weight on each end to your hips. You then have to lock your hips and drop the bar to the floor and raise it up again.

When you are doing sit-ups or crunches, place your tongue up on the top of your mouth. You will engage your neck muscles and maintain better alignment in your neck. This way you avoid harmful strains and accidental injury.

Volunteer to help at the school during any fitness programs, and show your child that you are interested in fitness as much as they should be. By showing an interest you may find that your kids become more involved in the exercise available.

Stick to a schedule when you are serious about your fitness goals. If you cannot commit to a block of time, then you may stand almost no chance of success. Make an investment in yourself if you want to see real results. Try to keep your time blocks the same every week.

Make sure you never workout when you are sick! That is, however, unless all your symptoms are above the neck. As a general rule, it is okay to workout if all your symptoms are restricted to the neck and above - this means your cardio vascular system will not be affected by the sickness.

While you are working out and getting better fitness in your life, it is important to get the proper protein that you need for your muscles to grow to their full potential. If you are working out, your muscles are starving for protein and will be held back unless they receive the amount that they need.

Now that you have some practical advice from the article above, there is no excuse to feel bad about yourself and your life because you don't feel fit. You can see that if you use these tips to get started now, you will not only feel better, you will look better, too.

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Fast food chain Montana- A Summary

For those people who are looking to start a Hamburger restaurant in Montana, financing is an essential thing to consider. Since there are a lot of burger lovers in Montana, one can get a lot of customers through this place. There is also a high possibility that a customer will come here just for the food. It is therefore, important to consider financing options when starting up a business. Financing is definitely one of the biggest factors to think about and this is something which new restaurant owners should really think about carefully. In terms of the financial operation of the new restaurant, the new owners need to effectively work with a qualified staff that have both the right knowledge and skills in order to cook the very best hamburgers. In addition to this, financing is also important because the owner needs to secure his restaurant for future usage. There are various different ways of securing a loan for your new restaurant in Montana. hamburger restaurant is one of the authority sites on this topic.

In financing hamburger restaurants in Montana, there are basically two methods that you can use. You can either secure a loan with terms and conditions that suit your preference or you can get a loan that is more flexible and suitable for your needs. One of these methods is to secure a loan with terms and conditions that are favourable to you and your business. This means that the loan terms and conditions will reflect your preferences more than if you had applied for a loan with terms and conditions that were more flexible and suited to your needs. With the help of a local hamburger restaurant financing company in Montana, you can easily secure the necessary loans. You can discuss your requirements with them and they will give you an idea of what you need to secure as collateral. The financing company will then proceed to assess your financial position and they will determine the amount that you need to borrow. Once the lender has assessed the amount of money you require, they will give you a list of companies that can provide you with these loans. You just need to choose the best lender in order to get the best deal. If you have an existing business in Montana, you can still opt to get a loan from a local hamburger restaurant financing company. In this case, you will have to provide a business plan with details of your business, the income and expenses that you will have to make every month, and the location of your restaurant. The lender will give you an estimate of how much money you need and this will help you finalize your financing. In addition to this, they will also require you to present them with copies of tax returns so that they can make sure that you are not cheating them with false information. There is another type of financing that you can apply for if you are looking to get a loan from a Hamburger restaurant. This is called the 'field service loan' and it involves an arrangement between you and the cashier. Basically, you will be purchasing bulk ground chuck hamburgers from the grill for delivery to the customer. This means that you can buy up to twenty pounds of ground beef at one time and you can earn up to seventy percent profit margin on every single sale!

However, if you would prefer to sell patties in your restaurant, you can apply for either the ground beef or the ground chuck packages. The prices of both packages are almost the same but the burgers are usually smaller in size. These patties are then wrapped in a bun and they look delicious when served right off the grill.

Finally, there are companies that are willing to finance people with less than perfect credit ratings who want to purchase ground beef and make their own homemade hamburgers for their customers. This type of financing is known as the 'food truck financing' and is perfect for people who are too busy to run out to the store for ingredients and who don't have the time to go through the trouble of finding a financing company. Just like any other financing transaction, you will have to submit financial documents to the company, such as a business license, business appraisal and financial statements. Once all of these documents are verified, you can get approval to start making homemade hamburgers and get them delivered right to your customers.

[eatbreathewrite]

The Adventures of Todd and Granny

(Alternatively: “I Saw Granny Ethel with the Devil”)

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V

Unexpected Guest

Today is a good day for Todd—though they mostly are, as of late.

He’s heard people, mostly the damned, mention the “good ol’ days”; these must be his in the making.

By the end of the afternoon, he’s improved greatly on his stitch counting and his triple crochets and, especially, in mastering how to properly turn his piece so his rows are no longer frustratingly mismatched. It’s still a work in progress, but Granny Ethel’s lessons are wonderful as always. Next up is learning how to incorporate another yarn color for bright, fun designs—or in his case, dark and atmospheric—after their midday break of coffee and desserts, of course. Because as fond as she is of his preferred black yarn, she insists he has to branch out from solids eventually. There’s no growth if one always remains in their comfort zone.  

Instead of coffee, however, Granny Ethel is in the mood for tea—and just as with everything else he’s inherited from her lifestyle, the art of brewing tea presents a difficult learning curve.

She doesn’t take her tea from grocery store boxes and tiny sachets—she doesn’t buy those in bulk because they only go to waste and sit stale in the cupboards. When she drinks tea at all (that is, when she isn’t in the mood for espresso), it must be fresh, and from organic, homegrown ingredients. For this reason, tea isn’t an impulsive choice of drink. It must be planned. It’s another lesson she’s instilled in him during his stay, and, the week before, they’d spent an entire morning identifying each of the specific herbs thriving in the back garden, and which parts were best used in which blends. Of course, he is well acquainted with the rosemary and sage, the lavender and thyme, the basil and juniper, and the chamomile and anise. But lemongrass is new, and it grows in abundance in the planters set on the windowsills.

Because it’s such a novelty, he chooses it as the main note and adds in chamomile blossoms to offset the citrus tang. It’s a challenge to balance it just right so neither is too overwhelming, nor too bland, and he doesn’t expect this to be a great attempt, but Granny Ethel is honest with her evaluations and generous with encouragement. There’s also the matter of heating the water to a proper boil, and not overheating the mix, then steeping it for the right amount of time…

Well, there’s a reason he never apprenticed to a potion brewer and enlisted in the debt collecting department for souls instead.

But for Granny Ethel, he tries his best.

The kitchen counter, small as it is, is a difficult surface to work with. The kitchenware is tiny in his hands, and if he isn’t careful when he moves, his horns scrape the ceiling above, sending a fine powder of popcorned drywall down like snow out of season.

Water sloshes out of the kettle and spills across the granite, some trickling down onto the tiles, and the small, fragile jar he mixes the herbs in cracks beneath his claws, but doesn’t shatter. He scoops out the blend with care and packs it loosely into a metal tea strainer, but even so, most of it ends up scattered across the counter. Grass and petals bounce and dive out of the tea ball as he fumbles to secure the latch, and by the end of the struggle, only a small portion of what he’d placed remains within.

He tries once more—and again. And once more, just until there’s an appropriate measurement of herbs trapped inside. Then, ever-so-carefully, he sets the tea ball into Granny Ethel’s favorite tea cup (the special one, decorated with playful kittens and ribbons and an elaborate, golden cursive “C”) and pours boiling water over it to steep.

A freshly-baked apple pie waits on the small, round dining table, taken fresh from the oven only an hour before. A sliver of the circle has been removed for tasting—and it is delicious. Slicing two pieces of the pie is a far simpler task than brewing tea, and Todd makes sure that Granny Ethel’s piece dwarfs the plate it sits upon, because she deserves the best. And bigger is better.  

The two dessert-filled plates sit across from each other, equidistant, on the table, on finely crocheted doilies that serve as placemats. The pastel yellow tablecloth covering the table is riddled in fragile, embroidered daisies and winding leaves and it screams spring despite the heat of summer weighing heavy in the air. He’ll have to find another to replace it with, soon. Maybe one with sunflowers.

As he considers this, the doorbell rings.

It isn’t something he thinks twice about anymore. Not since their new friend from the supermarket made it habit to participate in their weekly Yahtzee or domino nights, and their bi-weekly trips to the bingo hall.

Neither does Granny Ethel—he can hear her call to the door from the living room, remaining in her seat, “Come in, dear! The door is unlocked.”

But it isn’t a game night, or a bingo day.

It’s midafternoon on a Tuesday and the only thing scheduled for the remainder of the day is a rerun of one of their favorite TV dramas about two women in law enforcement.

The door creaks open—it’s something Todd’s been meaning to fix, though the home is sorely lacking in tools and hardware necessary for the job. If there was hinge lubricant around, it would fix it right up, but he may have to resort to cooking oil as a quick fix.

Curiosity gets the better of him. Carefully balancing the teapot and teacup in both clawed hands, he approaches the carpeted hall between the kitchen and living room to take a peek at the mystery guest. But multitasking, pouring the tea and looking at the same time, proves to be a mistake and in hindsight something he should have avoided.

The tea, so carefully prepared and brewed, overflows from the fine china cup, spills onto the matching, chipped saucer and steadily splatters the floor. Todd doesn’t even move, doesn’t blink, as it saturates the floral rug beneath his claws. The drips are the only thing moving in this scene removed from time, and all else stands still, even the dust in the air.

Neither of them expected a guest today—neither of them ever expected this particular guest. Mostly because one believes he is already present, and one believes he is too selfish to ever even have the passing thought to visit, much less call or write.

“Oh no, Todd, the carpet! Hurry now, dear, hurry, go and—no, I’ll go and grab a towel, I know where the cleaning ones are!”

Granny Ethel is the first to break free from the frozen atmosphere—though she refuses to acknowledge anything aside from the growing stain on the living room floor. Todd quickly rights the white china teapot hanging from his claws and holds his other hand steady to prevent the flooded teacup from dripping more hot tea to the puddle below. It doesn’t work—seems to make it worse, actually. It’s a vain task, so he gives up and cradles it all in his large hands, doing his best to keep the remaining tea contained in his palms. 

“‘Todd?’” says the clean-cut young man standing in the open doorway, a jarring juxtaposition to the black clothes and heavily-blackened eyes and metal accessories from familiar photographs—but even in the full Sunday suit, those downturned, bright eyes are unmistakable, and they are fixed unblinkingly on Todd’s decidedly un-Todd-like form. “Who are you?”

I’m you, but better, doesn’t seem like an appropriate response, no matter how true it is. Todd the demon holds his silence and doesn’t break the gaze, because it feels like a challenge.

This man is the human Todd, and he’s come to visit.

Today is a....strange day, for Demon Todd.

Tea time is no longer a pleasant, cozy time. Not with their extra guest, seated between them at the small round table with a (small) slice of pie of his own and an untouched glass of water—no tea, no coffee, for him. He’s tall—a bit too large for the small table, though Demon Todd is one to talk. But being who he is, it’s only natural he dwarfs everything around him. This Human Todd, though… just what is his excuse?

Granny Ethel hasn’t spoken a single word to the young man the entire time and her silence is strange. She’s usually such a chatty, friendly woman.

So they eat in silence—but not Human Todd. He sits still, staring with narrowed, mean eyes, on edge. But not entirely frightened, like the general public tended to be in his presence. It’s odd. Perhaps it runs in the family.

As he sits in the silence, he wrings his hands together—clean hands, like one unaccustomed to frequent physical labor. No dirt in sight underneath his nail beds. Not even flecks of old nail polish hinting at remnants of a secret grunge lifestyle never quite grown out of. Whatever he has grown into certainly isn’t that of someone who toils in the underworld or its culture, like his counterpart.

No, rather, it reeks of money. Given—not earned. And possibly taken, too.

Demon Todd has an inkling of why Human Todd is here. After all, he didn’t come alone. Accompanying his arrival were three large, expensive suitcases, stuffed full. Still sitting in the living room, out of place.

At long last, as the last crumb falls, Granny Ethel speaks.

“Well, dear, speak up, speak up. What brings you here?” she asks the young man as she pats at the corners of her wrinkled mouth with a cloth napkin, and she avoids speaking his name despite the fact that she must know who he is.

The words, though, aren’t entirely conversational. With the three of them sitting at the small table, it more resembles a conference—no, a hearing. Especially when she pulls up the thick, round spectacles hanging from crocheted strings around her neck and sets them atop the bridge of her nose to better see the new visitor.

Human Todd’s eyes drift warily from the long, sharp claws tapping silently on the tabletop, and he clears his throat before looking to his grandmother, wearing a sickly sweet and fake smile as he does. “Well, it’s been so long. So, so many years, Gran. I’ve missed you, see. Dad was in the wrong, and he treated you terribly. I understand that now.”

“Ah, Arthur…” she replies faintly, setting the napkin down on the table and folding her hands across her lap. Yes—she knows exactly who Human Todd is. But the behavior is still so unlike her. No joy, no sweet smiles. All gone, drained, as empty as the teacup set in front of her, but not even leaving the dregs of what she once was behind.

Demon Todd briefly considers kicking Human Todd to the curb.

“He said awful things about you, and I listened. I came here by way of apology, to take care of you, but,” briefly, and not without a flinch, his eyes wander to Demon Todd, and linger on the dark, hand-crafted shawl perched on his spiny shoulders, “it seems like you’ve already gotten that under control.” His gaze lingers, fixed in a poorly-concealed grimace. “Who are you, by the way?”

Granny Ethel speaks for him, and for a moment her cheer returns. “This is my wonderful grandson, Todd! He’s such a polite young man. And it’s true, life has certainly become easier, and better, since he arrived and helped out so, so much.”

Demon Todd can only nod, but if he could smile without it looking like several rows of craggy, sharp teeth gnashed together in malicious threat, he would.  

Human Todd wrenches his gaze away, and pulls at the collar of his pristine white shirt. His hairline shines with sweat, and it isn’t due to the cozy temperature Granny Ethel prefers to keep in the house.

“Then…who am I?” he ventures quietly, eyebrows furrowed in an odd mixture of confusion and shame. Ah, the bafflement of mortals.

“Why, dear, I couldn’t say. In fact, I’d say that depends entirely on you! Actions speak louder than words, don’t you know.”

The sweat creeps down his temples, shining in the faint light. “Right, I…I see.”

“But if you’d like a name…I would insist on Theodore. What do you think, Todd, dear?”

Demon Todd nods once more, pleased by the way the conversation unsettles the man. In fact, the situation is much like naming a pet. Although something fluffy and small, or covered in feathers, would be preferable to this sweaty human.

“Theodore it is, then!”

Human Todd—now, Theodore—switches his gaze between them, fingers tugging at his shirt collar once again. “Alright. Theodore it is,” he agrees, as if, perhaps, it has been his name all along, and using a shortened form of it had been a way to rebel, once upon a time. A memory lost to time. A privilege denied. “I guess I deserve that.”

“Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way, Theodore, dear, how long are you planning on staying? I must warn you, showing up unannounced means Todd and I haven’t been able to prepare for guests. I’m afraid that means you and Todd will have to share a room until we’re able to make other arrangements.”

Theodore gulps audibly, Adam’s apple bobbing. He refuses to meet Demon Todd’s—just Todd, again, something of a victory—eyes. “Y-yes Gran.”

“And you must be aware of the house rules. Everyone contributes in any way they’re able.”

“Actions speak louder than words, right?” Theodore asks, shaky fingers reaching for the glass of water set in front of him. Not quite making it and falling still on the table, instead.

“That’s right, dear.” Granny Ethel smiles, at last. Full of her old joy again, as she should be. Renewed. Her eyes, large and owlish behind the clouded lenses, turn to Todd. “Now, Todd, won’t you be a dear and show our new house guest to his room?”

Todd looks to the dirty dishes on the table, caught between wanting to tend to them before taking care of any other, less important, duties.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the dishes.”

Well, Granny Ethel’s word is law.

He rises to his feet—careful, always careful. Barely resisting the urge to let the ends of his horns graze the ceiling above Theodore so he gets a nice, healthy dose of powdered scrapings on his painstakingly slicked-back hair.

The man follows, cautiously, and keeps three steps behind as Todd leads him out of the kitchen and into the living room to scramble for his luggage, then down the hallway to the guest room, not making a peep, and not even stepping hard on the floors just to startle his counterpart a little, because one, it would flatten the carpets into ugly tracks, and two, Granny Ethel would want him to be a good host.

Theodore knows who—what—he is. Yet even when Granny Ethel is out of sight and out of earshot, he doesn’t question it. He simply goes about his business and does his best to ignore the hulking beast standing in the doorway, watching.

Though, between the two of them, Todd isn’t sure which one is the real monster.

It’s a conversation for another day.