#the most unpleasant part of owning a dog is having to deal with awful dog owners...

[refugeed-kim]

YES YES I NEED THIS SIGN IN EVERY SINGLE PARK PLEASE

This is my daily struggle, I had so many arguments with people with off-leash dogs (in a mandatory leash area!!!). Thanks to this behavior I'm struggling with Kim being anxious/aggressive with other females as she often gets involved in unpleased interactions with free females while on leash. And every single time that I ask for the dog to be at least recalled, I'm being called names and insulted of course.

Also 9 out of 10 their dog isn't really that friendly at all.

[kpop-zone]

Change of Mind pt.3 | Mina

CEO!AU | meet messy | “You confuse me.” 

Wordcount: 10,451

Part 1 Part 2

“I don’t care how busy he is! Get him on the phone and clear things up!”

Mina huffed into the phone before hanging up in annoyance. There was nothing worse than unreliable business partners.

Could this day get any worse?

The answer was yes. Just when Mina was about to take a sip of her steaming hot coffee to calm her nerves, someone ran into her full force, making her spill her beverage all over herself.

“Are you serious??”

She yelled exasperated, looking down on her beautiful blouse that looked like she had crawled through the mud with it now. The person who had run into her mumbled some apologies, but Mina didn’t even listen. She was so done with unreliable people.

“Do you know how expensive this shirt is?! You shouldn’t make other people pay for your obvious incapability to manage life.”

Desperately, Mina tried to clean her shirt with a napkin; she didn’t really have time to get changed, but she could impossibly attend all the meetings today with a stained shirt. It was truly always the same kind of people that made her life harder. Maybe it was unfair to take out all her pinned-up anger on that poor soul in front of her right now, but this incident had made Mina lose all sense of rationality.

“A diligent and decent person wouldn’t have to run anywhere. That’s what differentiates the successful from the scum. I would-“

She was about to give the person another piece of her mind when she finally averted her gaze from her blouse to look at her opponent, causing her to stop abruptly. Not only did that person look like a beaten puppy drowning in guilt, but also turned out to be the most stunning person that Mina had ever seen in her life. In awe, Mina shamelessly scanned your body, knowing that you were too speechless to stop her anyways. Everything about you was simply perfect. Therefore, Mina took her sweet time studying every detail of your body until her eyes met yours again. Your face was suddenly flushed, and it was obvious that her intense gaze was making you nervous. Mina, however, enjoyed seeing you this flustered, wherefore she decided to torture you a bit longer before clearing her throat.

“Aren’t you late to something?”

She asked, remembering that you had been running somewhere before bumping into her and she didn’t want to be the reason for you to be even later. A shocked gasp escaped your throat like you had totally forgotten about your appointment, causing Mina to giggle. You had to be really clumsy, but somehow that made you even more attractive.

“Um...I- yes. I- your shirt.”

You stuttered while rummaging your bag for your purse. Your gesture showed that you had manners and Mina liked that, but she didn’t want to have your money; you looked like you needed it more than she did. Therefore, she rested her hand on top of yours to stop you, causing you to look at her with wide eyes.

“Go.”

Mina ordered with a stern face in order to nib any backtalk in the bud. And her strategy worked. With a slightly bewildered face, you bowed hastily before rushing off.

Curious about where you would go, Mina decided to not go her way yet, but to look after you, realizing to her delight that you were entering her company.

Were you working for her?

Having the urge to know more about you, Mina quickly followed you, but waited a little at the side when she saw that you were talking to the receptionist. As soon as you were picked up by another employee, Mina rushed to the counter.

“Who was the person that you were just talking to and what is their business here?”

She cut straight to the point, much to the confusion of the receptionist.

“What- oh my god, Ms. Myoui!”

When her subordinate realized who was standing in front of her, she leaped to her feet in lightning speed and started searching for the demanded information.

“That was...um...Y/N L/N. One of the applicants for the open position in Mr. Gwan’s team in the sales department.”

When Mina heard this new piece of information, she almost squealed in joy. So you could indeed be working for her soon which meant that she had the chance to see you again.

“Thank you.”

Hastily, Mina thanked the receptionist before rushing to the elevator to pay the sales department a visit. Of course, it was Mr. Gwan’s decision who he wanted to have in his team, but maybe a recommendation of hers would help him to make his decision...

As soon the elevator door opened on the ninth floor, a murmur went through the sales department, causing Mina to smirk in amusement. It was always the same. She was well respected in her company, maybe even feared by some. But she didn’t mind. She enjoyed the nervous glances and the dignified bows of her subordinates. Therefore, she strutted down the hallway with her head held high, knowing fully well that all the team leaders were having a little mental breakdown right now, wondering whether they had messed something up. If they only knew that Mina couldn’t care less about their work right now...

Without any detours, she walked straight to the conference room where your job interview was happening and pressed her ear against the door. She just wanted to know whether you needed her help to get the job or whether you were doing fine by yourself. But instead of hearing a professional conversation, Mina heard something that made her blood boil.

“Who do you think you are? Do you think I’m only waiting for you? And then you appear here looking like that?”

She heard a man, who she assumed to be Mr. Gwan, yelling, causing an inexplicable fire to light inside of her. Mina knew that she shouldn’t be affected by this. You were a complete stranger and she should not get involved in affairs that weren’t in her field of duty. But for some reason the thought of someone yelling at you made her lose her cool. Without knocking, Mina teared open the door to the conference room and stormed inside.

“Is that how you deal with all of our applicants? Do you think that’s good publicity for my company? My god, you must have been raised by animals. Your incompetence is truly astonishing.”

She yelled without a warning, causing Mr. Gwan and you to look at her in shock. Immediately, Mina got lost in your helpless puppy dog eyes again and she completely ignored Mr. Gwan’s useless babbling. Something about you just sparked an incredible urge to protect you inside of her. If you could make everyone feel this way, Mina had no trouble believing that you had the whole world whipped for you.

Mr. Gwan kept going on and on until Mina had enough of his annoying voice and interrupted him rudely.

“Well, I don’t really have time for your irrelevant babbling. For your sake, however, I hope that you will quickly fill this position with the right person. Otherwise...well, I think I will not be having any use for you.”

The dumbfounded expression on Mr. Gwan’s face conjured a smile to Mina’s lips and she had to refrain herself from laughing. She was sure that this poor man had gotten her hint and would make the right decision regarding you. Therefore, she turned around wordlessly and left the room with a victorious smirk on her face. Her job was done here. Instead of instantly making her way to the long-overdue appointment of hers though, Mina decided to wait in front of the room. She assumed that the meeting probably wouldn’t even take fifteen minutes and she wanted to talk with you one last time for today. Gladly, her assumption turned out to be right and the door to the conference room opened ten minutes later.

You stepped out of the room, looking like you had had the worst day of your life and Mina had to hold herself back from pulling you into her arms. Instead, she went for a more professional and appropriate approach.

“Congratulations.”

Mina exclaimed happily, causing you to flinch. Only now you seemed to have realized that you weren’t alone in the hallway and turned around with a confused expression on your face. Once you saw her, you tensed up again and Mina didn’t know whether she found it adorable that you still got so flustered around her or irritating that you seemed to be almost scared of her.

“I- thank you. It’s just-“

You stuttered and Mina looked at you expectantly. This would be the first time that you would communicate a coherent sentence with her. But once again, your courage left you and you stared at her helplessly. Therefore, Mina calmly got closer to you in hopes that she could show you that there wasn’t just this loud, aggressive side to her that she had already demonstrated you twice today.

“It’s just what?”

She chuckled, encouraging you to finish your sentence.

“It’s just...I don’t understand why you’re doing this for me. You confuse me.”

Your sudden confession came unexpected, but Mina liked your straightforwardness. But judging by the expression on your face, you hadn’t planned to be so blunt, causing her to laugh.

“You’ll figure it out soon.”

Mina answered mysteriously, wondering whether you had truly no idea yet why she was being so nice to you. It wasn’t like she made her attraction towards you a secret. But to give you another hint, she stepped closer to you, managing to bring her own heartbeat to an unhealthy frequency. It would be so easy to close the gap now, but Mina wasn’t so sure whether you were ready yet. Therefore, she decided that she had teased you enough for the day.

“Anyways, see you Monday.”

Nonchalantly, Mina stepped away from you again and gave you a cheeky wink before turning around and strutting away while stifling a laugh.

Oh you were so adorable, she couldn’t even wait for your next encounter.

---

But unfortunately, the day of your next encounter was tainted by an unpleasant incident beforehand. Like any logical human being would have done, Mina had of course arranged your relocation to her floor. Mr. Gwan was clearly a bad team leader and she didn’t like her current assistant anyways. Therefore, it was only plausible to make you her new assistant. Unfortunately, there was an array of people who thought differently about that.

Mina had already noticed the day of the job interview that people were whispering more behind her back than usual but after she had ordered her assistant to move to the sales department, the rumor mill exploded. It needed a while till the rumors ended up on the top floor, but as Mina made her way to her first meeting of the week on Monday, she got a taste of what her employees were saying about her.

“So I’ve heard you hired a new assistant. Rumors have it that they are more than just you’re assistant though. Who are they? A relative? A fling?”

Mr. Jeon, a high-ranking board member, smirked as he sat down next to Mina at the conference table. His question surprised her; she hadn’t thought that the news would carry quite that fast. But Mina didn’t let her surprise show, calmly she faced him and feigned a lack of knowledge.

“You should know by now that most rumors are just the product of too much fantasy. I simply didn’t get along with my assistant and needed a new one.”

Mina lied with a fake smile on her lips, but the arrogant expression on Mr. Jeon’s face told her that he wasn’t done interrogating her yet.

“Sure...Is that why you yelled at a senior employee of ours and -how should I say- stole his new recruit? Come on, you can be honest with me. I won’t judge, I know that assistants can be quite...tempting. It would be totally normal if one of them made you weak.”

Disgusted, Mina’s gaze fell on the wedding ring on his finger and she had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. She hated that people were associating her with someone like him.

“I yelled at the employee because he was out of line. And I didn’t steal his recruit. This is my company, I can’t steal what’s already mine.”

She said sharply and Mr. Jeon’s grin faltered.

“Yes of course. It was obvious that all those rumors were just made up.”

He quickly uttered and Mina had to distract herself with the documents in front of her, because otherwise she would have to tell him how much his spinelessness disgusted her.

But despite knowing that Mr. Jeon was nothing but a blithering idiot, Mina couldn’t manage to ignore his remarks. They were stuck in her brain and during the whole meeting, his words bothered her. For one, she didn’t want her whole company to talk badly about you. You hadn’t even started working yet, but everyone still knew your name by now. But above all, there was one word that Mina hated more than any other. A word that instantly caused her to fly off the handle if people used it to describe her. Weak. Mina knew that she wouldn’t be so bothered by Mr. Jeon’s words if she didn’t secretly think that there was some truth to them.

Were you making her weak?

Mina couldn’t say in good conscience that all her actions in the past week had been right. She shouldn’t have compromised a good senior employee like Mr. Gwon and she definitely shouldn’t have transferred her assistant to the sales department without a warning. Those decisions weren’t made after thorough consideration and in favor of her company like she usually did; they resulted from a selfish desire. With every minute that Mina sat in that conference room, she got more upset about herself. How could she have acted so recklessly? If she had only been more considerate, the whole company wouldn’t be talking about her love life right now.

Mina was so lost in her thoughts that she only realized that the meeting had ended when she was the last person remaining in the room. Quickly, she packed all her stuff while cursing when she realized that her next meeting would start in less than two minutes. Annoyed, she ran to the next room. You were really bringing her nothing but trouble. She had to focus on her company again. If she could, she would even rewind to the day of the job interview and make everything undone. But that was just wishful thinking now. Nevertheless, there were other measures that she could take: she had to cleanse her mind from you. Therefore, she tried to clear her mind before sitting down at the head of the table at her next meeting, intending to pay better attention this time around. Her good resolution was put to the test, however, when the door to the conference room suddenly flew open to reveal you.

The root of all the chaos in her life right now.

Like the first time, her heart immediately started fluttering when your eyes met; especially when you waved at her awkwardly. You were such a dork. Mina could have sat there forever, just looking at you, but when she felt the gazes of the other participants of the meeting on her, she got reminded of the annoying rumors that were circulating in the company and her expression changed quickly. Instead of flashing you a wide gummy smile like she wanted to, Mina rolled her eyes, feigning to be a ruthless boss.

She needed to nib those rumors in the bud.

The look on your face, however, caused Mina to regret her decision in an instant. You looked so confused and she wished to be able to apologize to you. But that wouldn’t be fair. She had to stop with all that hot and cold treatment. Her company came before everything else. Therefore, she needed to focus again and if that was only possible by cutting you off, she needed to show you the cold shoulder for now.

A task that turned out to be harder than she had thought.

Your little insecure glances throughout the whole meeting didn’t go unnoticed by her, even if she forbade herself to stare at you. It was pure torture. Mina would love nothing more than to flash you a smile or to give you an encouraging thumbs up to tell you that you were doing fine for your first day. But the eyes of the others were glued on her today. Even when the meeting was over and the two of you made your way to her office on the top floor. All the assistants whispered behind your back, causing you to insecurely scan your surroundings. You were clearly uncomfortable, and this was all her fault. She needed to make it up to you; even if her good intentions would be absolutely invisible to you.

Throughout the week, Mina could see how your frustration grew with every day. She was punishing you with ignorance and criticism, no matter how accurately you were working. It was cruel and hurting Mina probably exactly as much as it was hurting you, but she told herself that you would thank her in the end. Nevertheless, she had never been looking forward to the end of the week like this week. Only one more meeting and she could send you home and recover from this horrible week. She would be in dire need of a breather after this meeting. Not only because of you, but also because this meeting was essential for the future of this company. If she could close this deal, no recession in this world could bring her down. She would rise above all the competition. Therefore, she was equally looking forward to this meeting as she was also dreading it. Nervously, she had paced about in her office before strutting to the conference room, pretending to be confident.

“Mr. Park, I’m glad that you could make it.”

With a wide smile on her face and an extended hand, Mina approached the older CEO and bowed to him politely while shaking his hand.

“Shall we?”

She pointed towards the conference room where everyone took a seat around the table. It didn’t take long till you entered the room as well and headed straight for the guests.

“Good morning. Is there anything that I can get you?”

You asked politely with a soft smile and Mina felt how a bit of her nervousness disappeared. Maybe you were causing her to make crazy decisions, but she couldn’t deny the calmness that she felt around you either. That was as long as everyone behaved around you, which Mina couldn’t really say right now. The way all those conceited prigs were rudely spitting out their orders without showing any sign of gratitude was causing this certain familiar irritation to crawl out of the dark inside of Mina. But you handled the situation with grace, so she took a deep breath and tried to let it go. This was neither the place nor time to make a scene; this customer was really important. Therefore, she pushed all the thoughts about you to the very back of her head and started the meeting with her eyes on the price: walking out of this room with a closed deal today.

If just everyone had been as focused as her...

Unfortunately, it seemed like the Mr. Park really wanted to test her patience though.

“Why isn’t my coffee iced?”

He snapped at you, when you returned to the conference room and placed his order in front of him. Irritated, Mina looked up from her notes in front of her, feeling like someone had just dropped a matchstick into an oil drum inside of her. Her grasp automatically tightened around the pen that she was holding, and her eyes darkened.

“I-iced? Because you ordered a hot cappuccino…”

You stuttered and Mina could hear how you were struggling to stay polite.

“I did not. Go get me a new one. Iced. I hope you’re able to keep that simple order in mind this time.”

Mr. Park rudely shoved the cup into your hands and Mina needed to physically bite her tongue in order to stop herself from stepping in. She could taste blood in her mouth and she quickly averted her gaze from the scene in front of her. The company comes first, she told herself in her head over and over again in a desperate attempt to bring her heartrate down. Only when she heard the door of the conference room being opened and closed, she dared to look up again, seeing that you had left the room.

“It’s so hard to get competent assistants these days...”

Mr. Park scoffed and the other men at the table agreed with him, but not Mina. He could be glad that she didn’t just rip his head off; she surely wouldn’t suck up to him just to please him. Therefore, she simply cleared her throat to catch the attention of the others and continued with her presentation.

“Where were we? Ah right, the targets of our partnership.”

Mina smiled, ready to focus on the benefits that Mr. Park brought to the table again, although they were harder to see with every minute that passed. There was barely a sentence that she could finish before Mr. Park interrupted her with a stupid comment. Maybe Mina could have endured them better if there wasn’t a flame already flickering inside of her, but it was increasingly hard for her to keep her cool. Your appearance was just the final straw to make her explode.

You walked into the room with a fake smile on your lips and the coffee that Mr. Park definitely didn’t deserve. It was hard for Mina to listen to another one of his dumb remarks while observing you in the corner of her eye, but she tried her best to stay focus. That was until a really unfortunate event caused her breath to catch in her throat.

“YA!”

Mr. Park yelled after you had spilled his coffee all over him. Deserved, Mina thought to herself while feigning to be shocked although she was actually trying her hardest not to laugh. Her amusement, however, disappeared a second later when Mr. Park leaped to his feet in order to yell at you.

“You incompetent idiot! What is wrong with you?! Did you just spill the coffee all over me to get back at me?? Do you know who I am? I’m going to make you pay for this, you ungrateful scumbag!”

The company comes first, the company comes first, the company comes first, the com- how dare this asshole?!

Mina had tried her hardest to keep her cool for the sake of her company, but enough was enough. No one, absolutely no one was allowed to yell at you. Anger replaced every single bit of rationality in her body and she leaped to her feet while slamming her hand on the table.

“Out.”

Was the only word she managed to choke out without absolutely losing her temper. But no one moved and Mr. Park even had the audacity to smirk victoriously. Did he think that she had meant you? In that case, she had to make herself clearer...

“I said out! The deal is off the table. My company doesn’t make deals with petty tyrants like you.”

She yelled now, unable to keep her emotions in check. The jaws of everyone in the room dropped and Mina would have probably laughed if her anger weren’t still consuming her completely.

“Excuse me?”

Mr. Park stuttered and Mina was starting to lose her patience. She couldn’t stand to see this man a second longer.

“Out.”

She growled and this time, Mr. Park seemed to have gotten the hint. In disbelief, he scoffed and looked at his associates before straightening out his stained suit.

“Very well. But don’t think that these ties can ever be mended. I’m going to make sure that you’re going to regret this.”

He stated arrogantly and it took everything from Mina not to jump across the table to grab him by his collar and to throw him out of the building herself. Making her regret this? He didn’t have that kind of power, if any Mina would make him regret ever having lived. Breathlessly, she supported herself on the table after Mr. Park and his associates had left the room as it hit Mina what she had just done. Even if Mr. Park was the biggest asshole on this planet, the deal with his company would have still been huge. But that chance was gone forever now, and Mina couldn’t believe that she had robbed her company of it just because of you.

“This is all your fault.”

She hissed angrily before finally looking at you.

“This was a million-dollar deal. Damn it.”

You flinched in shock when she swept the portfolio off the table, making her regret her action in an instant.

“I-I’m sorry.”

You stuttered and Mina chuckled bitterly.

“Oh thank you, that makes everything better.”

She exclaimed cynically, although she knew that it wasn’t fair to let her anger out on you. None of this was actually your fault.

“Of course not. I’m sorry, I will get my stuff.”

You mumbled in defeat, causing Mina’s heart to break. Get your stuff? Were you still not able to see that she was willing to sacrifice everything in order to have you in her life?

With slouched shoulders, you walked to the door and Mina knew that she should let you go. You were turning everything upside down. But she couldn’t let you slip out of that door and out of her life. Not after everything that she had already given up for you. Therefore, she quickly chased after you and grabbed your arm just as you wanted to press down the door handle. With a strong pull, she managed to spin you around, causing you to helplessly stumble into her arms. Once again, Mina instantly got lost in your eyes and she didn’t waste another second before grabbing your neck and crashing her lips into yours. She had wanted to do this since your first encounter. Starving for your taste, she ran her tongue over your bottom lip and finally you seemed to wake up. Hesitantly, you granted her access and Mina had to suppress the urge to hum into the kiss. She had kissed so many people in her life, but never had she ever felt so high before. Your taste was addicting, and she wished that she could keep standing there with you forever. But this was a highly frequented room; anyone could walk in here any second, so Mina pulled away reluctantly. Despite the risk, however, she couldn’t get herself to step away from you. Her hands kept cupping your face and she gently stroked your cheeks with her thumbs while letting this feeling of comfort wash over her as she got lost in her eyes. How did you manage to make her feel so many things in just a split second? Desperately, Mina sighed before resting her forehead against yours.

“What am I supposed to do with you? You drive me crazy.”

---

Mina’s words were causing you to chuckle. You were driving her crazy? What were you supposed to say? Gently, you put your finger underneath her chin and pushed it up to make her look at you.

“Well...you could stop pushing me away. Because you are driving me crazy too.”

You replied and Mina sheepishly hid her head in the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry.”

She mumbled against your skin and you laughed.

“It’s ok, now that I know that you like me too, your behavior is more bearable.”

Your statement caused Mina’s head to shoot up and she looked at you in disbelief.

“You only know now that I like you?? I made it so obvious!”

She gasped and you held up your hands defensively.

“You didn’t talk to me for one whole week and when you did, you yelled at me! How should I have known?”

You argued, remembering how this week would have been the worst of your entire life if Mina hadn’t just made it up to you.

“Ok...if you say it like that, I see where you’re coming from.”

Mina said innocently and you shook your head in amusement. You liked this kind of interactions between the two of you a lot better.

“Yeah you should definitely make it up to me.”

A light smirk tugged on the corner of your lip as you stepped closer again and Mina mirrored your expression in anticipation. Just when you were about to lean in for another kiss though, the door of the conference room suddenly swung open and Mina jumped away from you as if you were toxic. Completely oblivious to what was going on, a man entered, seeming to be fuming in anger.

“Is it true? Is it true that the deal with the Park corporation is off the table?”

The man’s voice cracked, and Mina avoided his gaze before reluctantly walking closer to him.

“Yes, it’s true. Mr. Park was highly uncooperative.”

She answered calmly, but the man looked like she had just said the most ridiculous thing on the planet.

“Uncooperative?? It was your job to make him cooperative! Do you know how much this deal would have meant for this company?”

It was cruel to watch Mina getting scolded for something that you had messed up, but you felt like it wasn’t your place to step in.

“Mr. Jeon, please calm down. Let’s go to my office.”

Mina stayed professional and gestured towards the door whereat Mr. Jeon sighed and left the room. Helplessly, you stood there, looking at Mina who flashed you an apologetic gaze before stepping into the hallway as well, leaving you alone in the conference room. Since meeting Mina, you felt like you were living in an alternate universe; everything seemed to be way too crazy to be real. But today was a step in the right direction. At least you knew now that you weren’t delusional. Mina truly liked you and seemed to be just as helpless as you. It was high time that you sorted things out with each other. Maybe the two of you could use the weekend to meet outside of work and talk about everything. Therefore, you followed the two board members to the top floor and sat down at your desk in front of Mina’s office, waiting for a chance to talk with the CEO. Through the glass walls, you could see that Mr. Jeon and Mina were discussing agitatedly for almost an hour before they eventually seemed to have come to an agreement. While glaring at you angrily, Mr. Jeon left Mina’s office and disappeared in another one further down the hallway. Mina, on the other hand, tiredly sat behind her desk and stared into the void.

Maybe you could cheer her up by asking her out...

Therefore, you took a deep breath and walked over to her office. You knocked shortly before letting yourself in without waiting for an answer.

“Hey.”

You greeted Mina shyly, but she only gifted you with a short glance. Instead, she turned her attention to some papers on her desk and started to rustle with them busily.

“Um...I was wondering whether you had some time to talk?”

You piped up while awkwardly shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“No.”

Mina simply replied without bothering to look up from her desk. Dumbfounded, you stared at her, not knowing how to react to her sudden coldness.

“Maybe later?”

You tried your luck once more, but you ran against a wall.

“No, I’m busy.”

It seemed like you had accidentally traveled back in time. Instead of talking with the woman that had kissed you senseless in the conference room earlier, you were faced with the old Mina again that punished you with ignorance for one whole week. Your headache instantly returned again, and you stumbled out of the office in pure disbelief. How could one single person have that many mood swings? Exhausted by the events of the day, you plopped down on your chair and pretended to work on some papers that Mina had given you this morning, while replaying the kiss in your head over and over again. All the emotions that Mina had put in it, couldn’t have been fake, right? You martyred your brain for almost an hour until a movement in the corner of your eye ripped you from your line of thought. It was Mina who finally left her office.

“You can leave early today, Y/N. See you on Monday.”

She said emotionlessly while walking by, leaving you even more confused than before. You didn’t even have the chance to talk back before she was already gone. For at least fifteen minutes, you simply stared down the empty hallway while trying to make sense of Mina before packing up your stuff in slow-motion. Usually, you wouldn’t have minded a long weekend, but under these circumstances, you dreaded it. A bad feeling was beginning to spread in your guts.

What if the kiss hadn’t changed anything? What if everything would stay the same?

---

Mina felt like punching herself as she rushed down the hallway. She was playing a cruel game with you; she was painfully aware of that. But she couldn’t stop. You were somehow messing with the chemicals in her brain and cutting you out of her life wasn’t an option anymore. But at the same time, she had responsibility for her company and Mr. Jeon had just made it clear to her what would happen if she didn’t fulfill her duties. Yes, she was the CEO of this company, but if the shareholders would work together, they could still remove her from her position. It was maddening and she needed time to think. Therefore, she had sent you home early. She couldn’t stand to be around you a second longer and to be reminded of the highly unpleasant talk with Mr. Jeon. You probably already had a whiplash from her mood swings, and she needed to use this weekend to come up with a solution.

But no matter how hard Mina martyred her brain, she couldn’t find one. Before she knew it, the weekend was over, she was sitting in her office again and you were driving her insane, just by looking at some papers. Half of the morning was wasted already because Mina hadn’t been able to concentrate. Instead, she had been staring at you. The way you knitted your brow when you concentrated was extremely adorable and the moment you bit your lip while filling out some form, Mina knew that she had to do something about her desire. Not wasting another second, she leaped to her feet and strutted to your desk.

“I need your help.”

Without waiting for your answer, Mina walked to the copy room, hearing how you followed her hectically. The moment you had entered the room, she slammed the door shut before pressing you against one of the photocopiers to your surprise. Utter confusion was written all over your face, so Mina decided to give short shrift. Just like the first time, she simply pressed her lips on yours, trying to let you know how much she wanted you even if she couldn’t always show it to you. She hadn’t been so sure whether you would forgive her after she had sent you home on Friday, but to her delight, your lips soon started to move in sync with hers causing her to sigh into the kiss. She had missed you tremendously, even if she only hadn’t seen you for two days. But apparently, you were feeling the same. Needily, you were pulling her closer even though there wasn’t even space for a single piece of paper between the two of you. Mina couldn’t help but to smile into the kiss while teasing you by pulling away several times, only to have you leaning forward to capture her lips again. It seemed like you were two magnets that simply belonged together, but unfortunately the knowledge that there was probably already another client of hers waiting in her office was annoyingly pinching her and Mina had to pull away despite the overwhelming attraction.

“I have an appointment.”

She whispered while softly stroking the outlines of your jaw.

“Skip it.”

You grinned, causing her to chuckle. She was very tempted to agree to your offer, but she knew that she couldn’t. The only thing that she could offer you right now were fleeting and secret moments like this. Her duties as CEO still came before you.

“I can’t.”

After pressing another kiss on your lips, she pushed herself off you and fixed her clothes.

“It’s a very important meeting. Oh and I need you to print the documents that I’ve sent you per mail.”

Sheepishly, Mina smiled at you, knowing that her timing was terrible right now, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You saluted dorkily, causing her to laugh before turning around to leave the room.

Maybe it wasn’t much that she could give you, but she would make sure to make those times worthwhile... and plenty. Mina just couldn’t help herself. You simply looked so kissable when you typed away on your computer or prepped her for one of her million meetings. So, in the following weeks it became a habit that Mina abducted you to an empty room whenever no one was around to express her affection even when she had to show you the cold shoulder most of the time. Because as soon as other people were around, Mina pretended to be your ruthless superior who mercilessly bossed you around. It was hard to be mean to you, but it was a necessary evil to prove all the people wrong that had spread rumors about the two of you. And Mina’s plan seemed to work. After a few weeks, no one whispered behind your back anymore and Mr. Jeon stopped eyeing you suspiciously. Mina even had to stop herself from becoming cocky and acting foolish again due to the naivety of everyone else. It had almost been too easy to find a solution to her problems...almost. Because what Mina hadn’t considered in her perfect plan were your feelings. You had played your part in her scheme so perfectly until you suddenly didn’t anymore one day...

---

People bumped into you left and right, but you didn’t care. Despite being an obstacle in the busy stream of employees that were trying to get to their workplace on time, you didn’t pick up your pace. Your initial euphoria about your new job was long gone and by now you just dreaded to go to work. You were so tired of Mina’s games. Even if her little ambushes had managed to help you get over her otherwise rough behavior, they simply weren’t enough anymore. You wanted to be more than just her little secret during her five-minute breaks between two meetings. Or maybe you would even be able to bear the secrecy if she wouldn’t grumble at you because of every little mistake. But the combination of both was just slowly killing you. Therefore, you took your time every morning to get to work. You knew that Mina would discover your daily tardiness one day, but she yelled at you anyways, so why should you bother?

Like always, you arrived five minutes late and barely managed to plop down on your chair before Mina rushed past your desk.

“Y/N, did you print the documents that I asked you for yesterday? Bring them to my meeting.”

She demanded before disappearing in her office, only to storm out of it again a second later to get to her meeting on time. You, on the other hand, weren’t prepared to go there yet, because horrified, you realized that you hadn’t printed the demanded documents yesterday. You remembered that Mina had asked you for them five minutes before your finishing time and you had simply waved her request off. Little had you known that she needed them so soon. In lightning speed, you opened the attachment of her last mail from the day before and hit the ‘print’ button. To your dismay, however, it seemed like the document was 100 pages long and with every second that passed you knew that your death inched closer. On wobbly legs you eventually ran to the conference room, managing to arrive only a minute after the official start. Relieved, you sighed silently when you entered the room and heard that Mina was still making small talk with the other participants of the meeting. Unfortunately, though, your happiness didn’t last long.

“Are you incapable of telling the time?”

You didn’t need to look at Mina to know that she was staring at you with one of her terrifying gazes that seemed to be able to set you on fire. With your head hanging low, you put down the documents in front of her and lightly bowed to her.

“I’m really sorry. It will never ha-“

Before you were able to finish your apology, Mina cut you short.

“I’m so tired of your sloppy work! Everyone would be grateful to have your job and you allow yourself to play games? I gave you this opportunity and I can take it from you again if I want to. I should have known better. You have been unreliable from the start.”

She scoffed and your head snapped up. Somehow Mina’s comment suddenly caused your blood to seethe. You were unreliable? You had never asked her to get you this job and you had done all your work diligently despite her antics. In order to be close to her, you endured everything silently and were willing to put your own needs below hers. But now you were beginning to ask yourself if it was all worth it. Did she even appreciate you? Because right now it didn’t sound like it. If there were so many people who would be grateful to be in your shoes, you shouldn’t be selfish, right? While tightly clenching your fist to stop yourself from making a scene, you bowed deeply before firmly looking into her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I will not upset you again.”

You stated emotionlessly before turning around and leaving the room. You would indeed never upset her again. But neither would you ever reward her with your presence again.

Furious, you stormed to your desk where you paced up and down the hallway. Could you really quit? You had dreamed about working in this company for ages. Besides, you also depended on the salary and you weren’t so sure whether you would immediately find a new job. Frustrated, you plopped down on your chair and weighted your options. Should you swallow your pride, or should you risk becoming homeless? It was a tough decision but in the end, you knew that only one of those options would come into question. You could no one longer knuckle under to Mina; not if you still wanted to be able to look at yourself in the mirror. Therefore, you quickly packed up all your stuff, hoping that you could disappear before Mina would be back.

Unfortunately, however, you were just halfway down the hallway when the elevator door opened and your soon to be ex-boss stepped out. When she spotted you, she quickly looked around to make sure that no one was around before approaching you with a smirk on her face. As soon as she noticed the box with all your belongings in your hands though, she started frowning.

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

She asked with concern resonating in her voice.

“I’m done.”

You spat out, wanting to simply walk past her, but she grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“What do you mean?”

Genuine confusion reflected in her eyes and you wondered how she could still be so clueless. Did she really not know how wrong her little games were?

“I quit. This job and whatever this is between us. I’m tired of you and your games.”

With a strong arm movement, you ripped yourself free of her grasp and rushed to the elevator that was still on your floor. As the doors slowly closed, you could see that Mina was staring at you with an open mouth in utter disbelief and you almost felt sorry for her. But then you remembered that exactly this weakness for her soft side had gotten you in this trouble in the first place and you quickly pulled away your hand that reflexively wanted to stop the door from closing. Instead, you pressed the button for the ground floor and averted your eyes from Mina before you could change your mind. This rollercoaster ride needed to end now.

---

Mina felt like she was stuck in a bad dream when she watched you stepping into the elevator. She had truly thought that the two of you were doing fine and those news were hitting her like a truck. The moment your words had left your lips, her heart had stopped beating and her whole body was frozen ever since. Only when the display above the elevator showed a red 1, the stinging pain in Mina’s chest slowly started to spread in her body and managed to rip her out of her trance.

You were gone.

Indecisively, Mina turned in circles while grasping her hair, not knowing whether she should chase after you or act like a CEO. Why did everything always seem to come down to the conflict between her love for you and her responsibility for her company?

“Ah Ms. Myoui, I was just on my way to you. Do you have a minute?”

Mr. Jeon’s voice caused Mina to jump in shock. Dumbfounded, she turned around and saw that he was standing in the door of his office with a smug smile playing on his lips. Her gaze immediately darted back to the elevator where her heart was telling her to go.

“I-I have to...”

She stuttered, pointing to the elevator, but Mr. Jeon cut her short.

“Please, it’s important.”

He countered, causing Mina to sigh in defeat. She had sworn to him that she would never let her feelings interfere with the success of this company again. Therefore, she reluctantly followed him into his office where she listened to his babbling with only half an ear. Your words just played in her head over and over again.

I quit. This job and whatever this is between us. I’m tired of you and your games.

Only after hearing your words Mina had realized that she had never officially asked you to be hers or taken you out on a real date. In hindsight, she couldn’t believe how selfish she had been. Had she really dared to martyr you every single day without giving you anything in return? Without noticing, Mina huffed loudly, causing Mr. Jeon to stop his monologue and to look at her in confusion.

“I’m sorry, please continue. I was just thinking about...a client.”

Mina lied and Mr. Jeon eyed her suspiciously.

“It’s ok, I don’t want to steal any more of your precious time. And we can continue talking tonight. You’re coming, right?”

He asked and Mina stared at him for several seconds, trying to remember what he was referring to until she remembered the red cross in her calendar that was labeled ‘Annual Business Partner Gala’. This time the loud huff that slipped past her lips was directed at Mr. Jeon who looked at her offended, but Mina didn’t care. She really had better things to do tonight. But of course, she couldn’t just skip the gala. She was the face of the company and her business partners expected her to give a speech that would assure them that Myoui Holdings was still yielding the money that they expected. Therefore, Mina put on a fake smile and looked at Mr. Jeon.

“Of course, I’ll be there.”

She assured him before leaping to her feet and leaving his office, not being in the mood to pretend any longer to be listening to his unimportant babbling.

With her thoughts racing through her brain like on a racetrack, Mina made her way to her own office. As she passed your desk, however, her movements halted, and she looked at your seat with regret tugging at her heartstrings. If she hadn’t been so selfish you would still be sitting there. She just had made it too easy for herself and now karma was making her pay for it. With every second that she was standing there, it became harder for her to breathe, because it cost her every bit of strength in her body to suppress the tears that were threatening to spill. Maybe she had missed her chance to make you know how much you meant to her, but she herself was painfully aware of that fact which made it unbearable to stare at your empty desk. Therefore, Mina did what she had promised Mr. Jeon not to do and let her feelings get the better of her. Although you had left her several sticky notes on her desk that were telling her what she still had to do today, she couldn’t manage to free her thoughts from you. So in order to prevent having a breakdown in front of all the board members of her company, she grabbed her belongings and rushed out of her office.

She needed to put distance between her and this mess.

The car ride to her apartment didn’t take long but it seemed like it lasted hours. Even if her driver was obliged not to spill anything that happened in the car, Mina didn’t want to cry in front of him. It would absolutely ruin her reputation. Therefore, she held back her tears until her key card unlocked her door and she could finally stumble into her safe space. The hours that followed were a blur. Mina knew that she had to be calm and composed again for the gala tonight, so she tried to let out all her bottled-up emotions, resulting in a tearful breakdown.

What was she supposed to do about you? Was it selfish of her again to want you back?

Not only her brain and her heart seemed to disagree on the answer to this question. No, her heart alone seemed to be torn too. On the one hand, it told her to give in to her love for you. She didn’t want to live without you. She wanted to make it up to you and show you that she could do better. But on the other hand, the same love told her to stay away. Didn’t you deserve someone who treated you better? Even if she would stop with the secrecy and the blowups, she still wouldn’t have a lot of time for you. Her company demanded a lot of time from her and she wasn’t sure if you were willing to endure that. The dilemma was killing her, so Mina was almost glad when it was time to get ready for the gala and she could distract herself. Although it was hard to ignore her problems when her puffy face demanded almost twice the amount of makeup that she usually needed and to make things worse, even her dress reminded her of you, because she had chosen it specifically for you to impress you. Tears immediately started to pool in Mina’s eyes when she looked at herself in the mirror and she quickly rushed to her wardrobe to search for another dress. One that wouldn’t remind her of her failure throughout the whole night.

Just as Mina was about to make a terrible mess out of her closet though, the sound of her doorbell caused her to head to snap to the side.

“Y/N?”

She whispered absentmindedly before stumbling out of her room and to the front door. Maybe you were here to take the decision that was tearing her apart off her plate. Full of hope, Mina swung open the door, only to feel her heart break all over again when she stood face to face with her guest. Another guest than she had expected.

“Are you ready?”

Seongmin asked with a bored expression and Mina huffed in disappointment. She had totally forgotten about him. Business partners liked to see that their partner was doing well- both in business as well as in their private lives. Therefore, Mina had started to take her old school friend Seongmin to official events. For some reason, a single, successful woman apparently didn’t fit into the norm of the world that she was operating in. So she faked to be in a relationship with Seongmin to fulfill their stereotypes. It was degrading and Mina didn’t know why she allowed the board members and business partners to have so much power over her.

“What am I even doing?”

She sighed frustrated, causing Seongmin to look at her in confusion.

Was this really the life that she wanted to live? Did she really want the be the board members’ and business partners’ puppet? Mina’s gaze fell on the dress that she was wearing, and she wondered whether the two of you would still be together if she hadn’t allowed the opinions of others to mess with her head.

“You are getting ready for the gala. Where you are going with me. Your date.”

Seongmin answered hesitantly, still not being able to make sense of Mina’s weird behavior. His words caused her to look at him and she suddenly felt how her annoyance took control over her. Your date. This was just wrong. She shouldn’t have to fake a relationship to please others. And even more so, she shouldn’t have to hide her real one. She could be a good CEO and a good girlfriend. Maybe it had taken her a while, but finally Mina knew what the right thing was to do.

“No, you’re not my date. I already have one.”

She replied before rushing back into her apartment to grab her shoes and her purse. When she came back to the front door, Seongmin was still standing there dumbfounded and she quickly pressed a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you for coming, Seongmin. But I don’t need your services tonight. You can go home.”

Mina smiled before running to the elevator. Her newfound determination suddenly washed away the lethargy from before and a wave of energy was electrifying her whole body. In lightning speed, she made her way to her car while calling the head of HR in hopes that the poor devil was still working.

“Ms. Myoui?”

He picked up the phone with uncertainty resonating in his voice, but Mina cut straight to the point, not having time for any explanations.

“Jinyoung, hi! Listen you have to do me a favor.”

She panted into the phone breathlessly while speeding out of the underground garage.

“You need to get me the address of an employee. The name is Y/N L/N.”

Jinyoung was audibly confused by Mina’s request and voiced concerns about confidentiality. But after repeating her request a second time in the sharp tone that made all her employees bow down to her, Mina could hear how Jinyoung typed something on his computer before sending her the address via text message.

“You are the best! Thank you!”

Without losing any more time, Mina hung up the phone and fed the address to her GPS that spit out the supposed shortest route to your apartment in return. Unfortunately, though, this time of day was not the best to drive from one part of the city to the other and Mina groaned loudly when she saw the time of arrival. Nevertheless, she didn’t let this little setback get her down and used the time that she was stuck in traffic to practice her apology in the rearview mirror instead. As soon as she was standing in front of your door, however, all her practice appeared to be useless. What if you didn’t want her back? She couldn’t resent you for that. The way that she had treated you in the past weeks had been absolutely unacceptable.

“Maybe I should come back another day?”

Mina mumbled to herself, remembering that she had learned in her years as CEO to never enter a negotiation unprepared. What were her arguments to convince you to take her back? What were her counterarguments for your accusations that you surely wouldn’t spare her? Before Mina could come up with a fitting strategy, however, the door to your apartment suddenly swung open and she found herself face-to-face with you. The moment your eyes met hers, your jaw dropped, and you stared at her with wide eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

You gasped, not seeming to have expected her in front of your door. Dumbfounded by your sudden presence, Mina opened and closed her mouth wordlessly in search for the right thing to say. Apologies weren’t her strong suit. Her reputation as ruthless and unapologetic CEO had gotten her where she was now. She wasn’t good at showing her vulnerable side. Therefore, before she knew it, her instincts took over and told her that there was only one applicable strategy right now: Offense is the best defense.

“I’m picking you up. We’re going on a date.”

Mina stated determined with her head held high, causing you to frown in confusion.

“No, we’re not.”

You scoffed, looking slightly offended. But Mina held her course.

“Yes, you are.”

She countered before brushing past you in order to walk into your apartment. For a second, she was disoriented in the unfamiliar surrounding but then she spotted her target and headed straight for your bedroom.

“W-wha... Do I get a say in this?”

You stuttered perplexed while watching how Mina rummaged your closet for something pretty for you to wear tonight.

“No.”

Mina simply answered as she pulled out a shirt that had looked like a perfect fit at first glance. But now that she was holding it in front of you, she didn’t really think that it highlighted your features that well, so she wanted to put it back into the closet. Before she could turn away from you again though, the utter look of disbelief in your face caused her to halt her movements.  Maybe this wasn’t the right strategy to demonstrate you that she was more than just a cold tyrant... How could she make the same mistakes over and over again? Disappointed in herself, Mina sighed before turning to you in order to switch her strategy.

“Of course, you have a say in this. But...I would appreciate it very much if you’d let me take you out on a date. I know I’ve behaved like the biggest asshole in the past weeks and I’m really, really sorry about that. But I know that I can do better. I think I forgot how to function like a normal human being over the years while making the company my top priority. But I don’t want to live like that anymore. I want to make you my priority too. You have made me so happy in the past weeks and I want to make you happy in return too from now on.”

She explained, trying to take off the cold and unapproachable mask that she had gotten so used to wearing in the past years.

“And how is that supposed to work? I know how much this company means to you...”

You countered, sounding sad and angry at the same time.

“You’re right, it means a lot to me and I will not lie and tell you that I will be a prefect girlfriend. Because I won’t. I will spend a lot of time in the company and I will not give you the attention that you deserve at all time. But I promise that I will never let my work life interfere with my private life again like I did before. I allowed the board members to have way too much power over me. But I don’t care what they are saying. I have a right to be with the person I love and...that’s you.”

Once again, you looked like you had just seen a ghost and Mina sheepishly turned her gaze to the floor because she felt way too vulnerable right now to stand the silence that followed her confession.

“I really can’t believe you. I’ve never met someone who has that many mood swings. You confuse me!”

You huffed frustrated and Mina slouched her shoulders.

“I’ve just decided to wish you to hell and now you come around, being all cute again and making my heart flutter.”

Angrily, you crossed your arms, but your words gave Mina hope and she looked at you expectantly.

“One. I give you one more chance to change my mind.”

You held your pointer finger up in the air and Mina squealed in joy, but you nudged her chest threateningly, causing her to contain herself again.

“I’m serious Mina. If you treat me unfairly one more time or if I feel that you will always choose the company over me, I’ll quit for real.”

Mina instantly nodded in agreement, knowing that she was completely undeserving of this chance.

“I promise, I’ll be better.”

She whispered as tears were choking her up. This relationship was far too precious to her; she would make sure not to mess it up this time. Maybe it would still take her some time to let all her guards down, but she was willing to let you take the lead. Insecurely, she looked at you, waiting for you to make the next call, afraid that she might patronize you again.

“Come here...”

You sighed eventually while opening your arms and Mina didn’t waste a second before crashing her body into yours. A few tears of joy rolled down her cheeks as she buried her head in the crook of your neck and savored the feeling of comfort that instantly washed over her again.

She would make sure to repay you forever for your change of mind.

[pronouncingitwang]

jon, melanie, and georgie friendship | 1.5K words | basically just. how jon finds out melanie’s bi | for the @jonsimsbipride prompt “solidarity”

“Martin? Are you still there?” Georgie calls from the couch at a volume that makes Jon wince.

Martin’s fallen asleep on the loveseat, his face smushed into the arm of the chair as he snores. For the last few minutes, Jon has been looking at the rise and fall of his chest with something resembling awe. Even a year after the world began again, Jon finds it difficult to believe that they’re safe, that he can just watch Martin without needing to watch over him.

“Pretty sure those are his snores I’m hearing right now,” says Melanie, and Georgie whispers a quick apology.

Recovery has been hard, but being roommates with the Qing-Barkers helps, at least sometimes. Georgie described their shared living situation as “living in group therapy” on more than one occasion, which is true on hard days. Melanie described it as “being back in uni again, but mostly in a good way?” which is true on better days. Martin maintains that it’s worth it for The Admiral and Melanie’s service dog, Mothman, alone, which is true on every day.

Today is a good day. There’s been a lot of laughter, from when Georgie and Melanie had met him and Martin at the airport to telling them honeymoon stories over dinner to now, when they’re all lying around doing nothing, and jet lag has rendered Jon too tired to drag himself to bed.

“Come and cuddle with us instead, Jon,” Melanie stage-whispers from beside Georgie. After checking that Martin is comfortable one more time, Jon agrees.

Melanie is snuggled under a blanket with a pink, purple, and blue yarn mix. Martin had gifted the blanket to Georgie for her birthday, even though Jon, I swear everyone gives their friends pride stuff when they don’t know what else to get them; are you sure it’s not obvious that I didn’t have a better idea? It's warm and soft, and by now, practically a household staple.

Jon sits down on the couch and, after checking that she’s okay with it, rests his cheek against Melanie’s shoulder. At first contact, Melanie lets out a small noise of surprise. “You shaved,” she says. “Georgie, you’re supposed to tell me about major life changes like this! How stupid does he look?”

Georgie hums. “Not too bad. I’d say… no more stupid than usual?”

“Damn,” Melanie says. “Why the smooth face, Jon?”

Georgie opens her mouth, but stops herself to let Jon explain.

“Oh,” he shrugs, “I just tend to shave whenever I have to deal with airport security. Less likely to be stopped for suspected terrorism and all.”

“Ah.” Melanie clicks her tongue. “Makes sense. Sucks, though.” She shifts, resting her head on top of Jon’s. “I guess it’s a good thing that Big Heathrow”—Georgie giggles from the other side of the couch—“doesn’t know how the apocalypse came about, then.”

Jon laughs. The part of his mind that wonders if going along with this particular joke about the apocalypse is a sign of developing emotional distance or just a coping mechanism perks its ears up, but he ignores it. “No, I’d imagine the Daily Mail would have a field day with that one.”

“I wonder how they’d spin your evil boss’s involvement,” Georgie, who steadfastly refuses to use Elias’s name, muses. “Innocent bystander? Secret lover?”

Melanie makes a retching sound, which Jon makes back at her. Melanie repeats it at a slightly higher pitch. This continues for at least a minute, before they lapse back into laughter. It really is like uni again.

“Hey, Jon,” Georgie ventures after a spot of silence, mischief coloring her voice, “Kiss, marry, kill: Big Heathrow, Daily Mail, evil boss.”

“Georgina.” It’s difficult to have a staring contest with Georgie’s body pillow in the way, but Jon manages to aim his glare right at the space between Georgie’s eyes. Georgie doesn’t back down, just smiles sweetly and raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, Jonathan?”

“Fine,” he sighs, resting his head back down onto Melanie’s shoulder. “Fine. Kill Elias again. Marry… marry Heathrow? I think it would have a tolerable personality. Which leaves…” he sighs again, “kissing the Daily Mail. Christ.”

“Bad choice,” Melanie says. “They’re basically the definition of kiss and tell. Imagine the scandal!”

“Alright, fine.” Jon says, not awake enough to debate but curious enough to challenge. “Same options. What would you pick?”

“Easy,” Melanie says. “First, obviously, I’m stabbing Elias to death. Second, I’m pretty sure Heathrow sells toothpaste, so it would be the least unpleasant to kiss. Third, and most importantly, I’m going to use my marriage to the Daily Mail to edit the articles it publishes and slowly radicalize the old white women of the UK.”

Georgie gives a few snaps of approval, and even Jon has to admit she has some points.

“There aren’t many situations where I’d divorce you willingly, Melanie,” Georgie says, “but if it was for this, I would understand.”

Melanie laughs. “I appreciate your support, babe. Your turn.”

Georgie deliberates for a while, then winces. “Sorry, Melanie. I’m going to have to go with Jon on this one.”

“Ha!” Jon says.

“I just don’t think I could deal with being married to the Daily Mail.”

“Cowards, both of you!” Melanie exclaims loudly, but is quickly shushed by both Jon and Georgie with a “Martin!” She continues in a quieter voice, “And before you say anything, Georgie, I know that’s not actually possible for you, but I’m sticking by my words.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe this. The heartbreak. The betrayal. From my own wife, and right after she said she would willingly divorce me…”

“Stop taking my words out of context!”

“Can’t, my new spouse Mx. Mail is a bad influence”(—“Which is exactly why it's better to marry Heathrow instead,” Georgie interjects—)“but at least it’d side with me against Jon.”

Jon grins. “It’s the biromanticism, Melanie. It gives me and Georgie the same taste.”

At this, Melanie sputters. “Nuh-uh. No way. Absolutely no way. Your bad choices are the results of your own bad opinions. Don’t bring me into it.”

Melanie continues to speak, but Jon is no longer listening. He feels, suddenly, like he’s missing something important. “What?” he asks, causing Melanie to pause. “How have I brought you into it?”

“Well… you said being bi makes you choose the worse option,” Melanie says, which just confuses Jon more. Then, “Wait, Jon, you do know I’m bisexual, right?”

Ah. That would do it.

“Not… not quite.”

“Oh my god,” Georgie says. “Seriously?”

“You—I’ve only ever heard you call yourself gay!” Jon cries, giving Melanie and Georgie the chance to shush him with “Martin!”

Melanie shakes her head mournfully. “I’ve been your friend—okay, not quite that, but I’ve known you—for years!”

“I was trying to save the world during most of those years!”

“You also had spooky all-knowing powers,” Georgie adds.

Jon feels his leg begin to bounce. “Well, yes, but I was actively trying not to use them on people. Checking someone’s sexuality would be a gross violation of—”

“It’s okay, Jon,” Melanie says soothingly, “I know you wouldn’t do that.” There is quiet for a few seconds as Jon takes a few deep breaths. Then, Melanie says in a wryer tone, “Jon. One of my sets of prosthetic eyes is literally the bi pride flag. I know I don’t wear it that often, but…”

“I’ve only seen it once, in bad lighting, and… I don't know, I thought maybe you were just being supportive!”

“Oh my god,” Georgie says again, her voice muffled by the pillow she’s buried her face in. Jon feels like burying his face into a pillow himself.

“This is awful,” Jon groans.

“Stop being biphobic, Jon,” Melanie says.

“Stop being bi-aced, Jon,” Georgie says, which is unfortunately quite good.

“Fine,” Jon says. “This isn’t awful. It is, instead, wonderful.” He means the last sentence to come out begrudging, but it sounds more sincere than anything else. Jon blames his emotions. Now that the initial surprise has worn off, warmth is beginning to replace it. It’s not that he’s particularly starved for bi friends, but it’s nice, having one more thing that ties him and Melanie together.

“Thank you.” Melanie gives Jon a haughty sniff, but she smiles as she does it.

Jon’s neck is beginning to strain, but Melanie is still resting her head on top of his, and he doesn’t want to bother her. He closes his eyes and tries to focus his attention elsewhere. He can take a few minutes more.

“I just realized something,” Melanie says. “Jon, I’m literally under a bi pride blanket right now.” Georgie starts to giggle again.

“I’m asleep,” says Jon.

“Yeah, under a bi pride blanket that I, too, am currently under. Because I’m bi.”

“I’m double asleep,” says Jon.

“And I’m bi,” says Melanie.

“I know it’s useless to ask, but is there any chance we can forget about this and pretend I’ve known all along?”

“No,” Melanie and Georgie say in unison.

“Great,” Jon replies, and hides his smile in his bisexual friend’s shoulder.

[blacklister214]

Illusions

Having gotten absurdly obsessed with Julie and the Phantoms over the weekend, writing this seemed like the only option. 

This is a Caleb Covington POV fanfiction, and I’m writing it from the viewpoint that he isn’t quite the villain he appears to be. I have many theories about Caleb that I will be working into the story if I choose to continue it. This chapter covers the night that band plays the Orpheum, starting from around the time Julie returns home.    Weighing Options

L.A. 2020

Caleb stared into his dressing room mirror, barely noticing his own impossibly handsome reflection. They weren't coming. They really weren't coming. He glanced at the wall clock telling him it was ten minutes to midnight. Ten minutes before Luke, Reggie, and Alex would vanish into oblivion, or more accurately vanish into him.

The energy he'd been collecting from them for the past few days had had quite the effect. He wasn't sure he'd ever given such an electrified performance as the one he'd given this evening. The surges were coming rapidly now. Wherever the boys were, they were not enjoying themselves.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the link he'd forged so long ago. It had been an invaluable source of information thus far, alerting Caleb to all manner of fascinating tidbits. Perhaps even now the boys were regretting their decision and calling out for rescue. Naturally he'd provide one...though at this point he might demand some penance on their parts. A little groveling never hurt anyone. It was a bit demeaning the way he'd bent over backwards for a trio of children. Special children, he freely acknowledged, but still children all the same.

"-now! Go join Caleb's club! Please! It's better than not existing at all! Just go! Poof out! Do something! Please! Do it for me!" He knew that voice. Julie. Caleb grimaced. His...rival. How the mighty had fallen that he, Caleb Covington, found himself in competition with a teenage girl. At least she seemed to be conceding their little tug of war.

"We're not going back there." That was Reggie. Reggie, who'd been so enchanted with his club and all its delights. He'd chosen nothingness over Caleb. That was more than a little insulting.

"No music is worth making, Julie, if we're not making it with you. No regrets." Luke, who craved applause and an audience with a fervor matched only by Caleb's, had willingly surrendered both rather than join him. An unpleasant surprise to be sure. What of Alex? Was his silence implied solidarity or had he lost the ability to speak, choked with pain? Surely one of them had been moved by his performance?

Caleb shook his head. Pathetic, that's what it was. Of course Alex was in agreement. The boys were a package deal. He'd always know that. Convince two and the third would follow. Too bad he'd failed with all three. A swell of something unpleasant which he refused to name rose within him. Caleb pushed the feeling back down. Locked it tight in a box with all the rest the emotions he'd rather not confront.

"I love you guys." Julie's saccharine words were immediately followed by a curious sensation within his chest. Almost as if a rubber band were being pulled outward with the other end anchored inside his ribcage.

"How can I feel you?" Caleb paused in the middle of rubbing his chest. Feel him? Luke? Julie felt Luke? Luke was corporeal?

"I don't know." There was awe in the boy's voice. This was too much. Caleb needed to see what was happening. He focused on the doors outside of the garage the band called home. In a moment he was there, just out of sight. A voice drifted through the door.

"Alex, Reggie, come." He risked a peak through the window. All four figures within were far too distracted to glimpse him, immersed as they were in their group hug. A hug. It had taken Caleb decades and an enormous amount of soul links to achieve that feat. How had the boys managed in a few weeks? And...were they glowing? Not just in the "I'm a healthy teenager" way. In the "slap a halo on me, I'm an angel" kind of way. Caleb stepped back from the window. What was going on here?

"I don't feel as weak anymore." How marvelous for Reggie. Caleb, on the hand, was really starting to become uncomfortable. The sensation in his chest was only getting tighter.

"Me either. Not that I was ever that weak." Caleb felt a snap and three puffs of purple air rose from his shirt. His marks. Somehow Julie had overrode his marks. Yes, he'd been planning on removing them himself, but that wasn't the point. It was supposed to be Caleb's decision. The boys were supposed to know that it had been Caleb who'd shown them mercy despite their willfulness and general ingratitude. Julie had bested him, again. Would his humiliation know no bounds?

Caleb took a deep and calming breath. Yes, the urge to unleash some of his magic on the teens was great, but his self control was greater. He would need to regroup. He forced a smile and pictured the basement of his club. He came through in front of William's cell exactly as he'd intended.

"Hello William. Enjoying your timeout?" The skater immediately leapt up and ran over to the magically enforced bars.

"Is Alex alright? Did he cross over?" Caleb rolled his eyes, refusing to be moved by William's puppy dog like devotion. Sweet as the boy may seem, he had a short memory when it came to whom he owed allegiance.

"You do know that if the latter were true, I wouldn't be able to tell you the former." He examined his cuticles waiting for William's slow mind to process his words.

"Huh?" Precisely the response he'd anticipated. At least he'd been able to predict something accurately this evening.

"My dear William, it is fortunate you are so handsome. If the boys crossed over then no one would have any way of knowing if they were 'alright.' Something perhaps you should have considered before leading them down that ill-advised path." At this he fixed the boy with his most baleful glare. The teenager winced slightly, proving Caleb hadn't completely lost his touch.

"So...did they cross over?" Caleb pursued his lip, slightly irked he failed to totally intimidate the boy into silence. He supposed it was true what people said about love making young men bold.

He contemplated ignoring the question. What right did William have to an answer, after all the withholding he'd done in the past few days? Still Caleb had always been fond of the skater, perhaps been too indulgent with him. In a way the boy's unruliness was Caleb's own fault. He'd given the boy far too long a leash.

"I'll tell you, but only because I am the soul of generosity. No, the boys did not cross over. They are well for the moment. Though goodness knows how long that will last." Perhaps he shouldn't have tossed that last bit, but he was feeling frustrated.

"If you do anything to them I'll-" Caleb apparated to close the ten feet between William and himself. The boy tripped backward in surprise and lay sprawled on the floor gazing up at him.

"You'll what, William? Run over me with your skateboard? Oh that's right, it's not in there with you is it?" The look on the boy's face turned from scared to mulish in less than three seconds.

"I'm not sorry." Caleb raised his eyebrow. William may be developing a bit of a backbone after all. What inconvenient timing.

"Why would you be? It's not as though you completely and utterly betrayed the man who took you in and gave you a home. Who taught you all manner of tricks and even let you grind down the rails of his club." William crossed his arms, but the hunch in his shoulders demonstrated the boy wasn't entirely without remorse. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.

"It wasn't like I was damaging them." Then again perhaps not. Lord spare him the antics of petulant teens.

"The point is after everything I've done for you, I deserved a little more loyalty than what you've shown me." William sprung to his feet as quickly as he'd fallen, something in Caleb's accusation striking a nerve.

"You cursed my new friends and my...Alex. And why? Because they didn't want to join your house band? Why couldn't you have just left them alone?!" Caleb felt his lips thin. He HAD already deigned to explain to William why he couldn't simply let the boys waste their talents as they saw fit.

"I already told you, they are too powerful." It may not have been the WHOLE truth, but it was part of the truth, which frankly was more than most people got from him.

"So because you're threatened by them-" Caleb cut William midstream with a snort.

"I am not threatened by them." It was simply too much to let stand. The idea that with all of Caleb's many abilities, he was intimidated by three teenagers was laughable. Yes, the boys could, if they worked at developing their talents, one day learn many of the tricks he'd mastered. However, they'd need to survive the next few decades first, and their stubbornness and recklessness all but ensured they would not. At least not without his help.

"Then why?" A more complicated question than the boy realized, touching on secrets Caleb did not care to reveal.

"You'll be in the cell for the rest of the week. After that you're confined to the club until further notice. No skateboard." A fairly lenient sentence as far as Caleb was concerned. He'd certainly been harsher to other spirits for less. William opened his mouth, either to protest or to restate his question, but Caleb quelled him with a single raised eyebrow. The boy's jaw snapped shut. That was more like it.

Caleb vanished and re-materialized his suite. He paused a moment before heading to his end table and decanting himself some brandy. Ordinarily wine was his preference, but tonight he needed something stronger.

When he finished pouring, Caleb lowered himself into his velvet armchair. He regarded the liquor in his glass a moment before taking a sip. Of all the many skills he'd acquired over the years, the ability to manifest food and drink that could be consumed by ghosts was one of his favorites.

With a sigh he turned his thoughts to more pressing matters. What to do about the children? They needed to be saved from themselves. That much was clear. First Youtube and now the Orpheum. In this day and age, with every lifer carrying a camera in their pocket, discretion was more necessary than ever.

Did it really not occur to the boys there were reasons ghosts, which had been around since the dawn of humanity, still were considered myths? Did it not dawn on them that someone kept things that way? Yes, they'd been passing themselves off as holograms, but how long until someone saw through that charade? He was frankly shocked it hadn't happened already. They were calling themselves "Julie and the Phantoms" for goodness sake!

Julie. Even thinking her name brought a sneer to his lips. How had she gotten the boys to choose her over him? He supposed Luke wasn't so surprising. The boy was besotted after all. Reggie, though, who found the scores young women and meatball subs so appealing? And Alex, whose infatuation with a certain young skater was so great? It was quite frankly unfathomable.

Still, Caleb had never been one to surrender without a fight. Short term he had but one goal: Break-up their band. Separate Julie from the Phantoms, preferably in a way that didn't implicate him. He settled in to consider his options. It was going to be a long night.

[creek-cryptid-deluxe]

It’s been awhile since I truly ranted about my clueless boomer father. it’s absolutely not because he’s been less awful. in fact he’s been so overly awful that I’ve not had the energy to really type out an entire vent post. 

Let’s rectify that! (Disclaimer: this shit is LONG)

So those of you who aren’t new round these parts are well versed in how clueless and selfish my “I’m not like other boomers” (def is) father. You might also know how introverted I am.

Now that word gets tossed around a lot by people who just enjoy their own company or enjoy socializing but need time to recharge, and that’s all well and good. But my personal introversion is much more... serious. Like, I can socialize but it’s draining pretty quickly, save a few people who don’t suck the life out of me because they arent work to hang out with and dont require me to entertain them. I need more recharge time than socializing time by a significant margin. Last summer my father went on vacation for a week (Bailey stayed with grandma) and during that week I didn’t verbally speak to a single fucking soul except when The Spawn (who didn’t live here at the time) came by for something. Best week of my fucking life. 

The less I’m able to recharge, the more unpleasant I become. This is important. 

So we all know that my father likes to claim a lot of things are that clearly bullshit. Among those things is the claim that he doesn’t need friends or socialization because he’s “like me” and the claim that he respects my space and need for down time. these things aren’t true. at all. Let’s look at why I saw that...

This man insists on telling me every small annoyance that happens through his day. Every single fucking day I have to hear (and read texts) repeatedly about how ignorant his coworkers are, the amount of unmasked people at stores/gas stations, & just generally self absorbed people he encounters. EVERY DAY. He clearly needs someone to socialize with. 

He will also just walk into my living room and plop down. Then he starts fucking talking or bitching at the dogs for jumping around on him. If I am watching something, he starts asking questions/commenting on whatever I’m watching. If I’m wearing headphones (which are massive and cover my ENTIRE EAR very obviously) he will stare at me and start talking until I pull my headphones off and say “What?! What is so fucking urgent?!” 

I’ve been getting progressively more short with him. I don’t answer texts that aren’t actually about something. When he interrupts me for something I KNOW will be frivolous bullshit, I exaggeratedly huff, then either rip off my headphones or pointedly pause what I’m watching and say “WHAT?! What do you need?!” If he’s bitching about the dogs playing on the couch while he tries to sit on it (which they do to me CONSTANTLY btw and I just make it work) I snap at him to just move to the fucking chair or shut up. If he goes to bitch about a coworker or people he encounters while out, I just say, “You already told me about this.” in and incredibly short tone, to which he responds “Well I wanted to make sure.” in a huffy tone. 

His most recent two days have really taken the fucking cake. 

So The Spawn frequently goes up to see her godfather, D, in Colorado over school breaks. He usually puts her on a plane or comes to get her, but with her having a car, she’s decided to take a friend with her and have her first Big Girl road Trip. She will be gone a little overr a week and she, the friend, D, and I all meticulously planned it out. My father comes in day before yesterday and says, “Hey do you want me to take vacation time while The Spawn is gone so I can be here?” I look deeply confused, “Why the fuck would you do that?” his response: “Well, I didn’t know if you’d need someone here to help with the dogs during the day while she’s gone.” 

Y’all I nearly died laughing. “Her not being here changes literally NOTHING about how the dogs are handled during the day. When she is here, she is in her room. It’s really funny that you think I have help during the day considering how often I’ve bitched about the fact that I take care of the dogs that aren’t mine far too much.” 

Then yesterday, I had spent the day employing my general tactics to discourage him from harassing me with useless bullshit. At some point, I cut him off from talking AGAIN about “ignorant, maskless, redneck gatherings at the gas station” by saying, “YES YOU TOLD ME AT LEAST 3 FUCKING TIMES. I GET IT. PEOPLE DON’T WEAR MASKS AND IT PISSES YOU OFF. IT’S BEEN A FUCKING YEAR. DEAL WITH IT. Why in the fuck do you insist on telling me this crap?” This fucking idiot laughed and said “I need to vent to someone.” I then told him to get a fucking friend or get a fucking therapist but I am not here for him to fucking vent to. 

At the end of last night I finally lost it. I blew up on him about how I have zero privacy, nobody fucking respects my space or my need to recharge my social batteries, so I’m just constantly running on empty which means I’m getting progressively more unpleasant and frankly downright mean. Near the end I said “I’m sorry but...” and intended to tell him EXACTLY what he is doing that is causing this shit but true to fucking form, this motherfucker INTERRUPTS ME and says  “Oh I never take any of this personally. no apology needed. goodnight.” and goes up to bed. 

YOU SHOULD TAKE IT PERSONALLY YOU STUPID PIECE OF SELF ABSORBED SHIT!!!! YOU ARE THE FUCKING PROBLEM!!! MY NEARLY 17 YEAR OLD CHILD HAS MORE AWARENESS OF MY NEED TO RECHARGE AND NOT BE AROUND PEOPLE CONSTANTLY THAN YOU DO DESPITE ME TELLING YOU ABOUT MY NEEDS IN VERY PLAIN LANGUAGE THAT A FUCKING 5 YEAR OLD COULD UNDERSTAND!!! 

LEAVE.   ME.   THE.   FUCK.   ALONE.  unless the subject of what you want to talk about impacts me directly in some way or i INVITE YOU into a conversation. I don’t vent to him unless it impacts him or the household... so why the fuck can’t he show the same courtesy? Also that whole “respect your space and not invade it” thing... on the rare occasion that he doesn’t just invite himself in and plop down in my space expecting my fucking attention, he will HOVER in the ‘doorway’ to my rooms until I acknowledge his presence, at which point he takes as an invitation. I’ve done an experiment. If I ignore the hovering, he will stand there up to 30 mins, at which point he will ask me a question and when I answer he takes it as an invitation. Like, I know my living room and BEDROOM don’t have doors but that doesn’t mean you have an open invite to just come into them whenever. You want to pet your dog but she’s on my bed? Call her. She’ll come over to you. Want to watch something with me? ASK and then, if I say yes, don’t fucking talk to me. I agreed to watch something, not have a fucking conversation. 

oh but directly telling him any of this doesn’t work because he “doesn’t take any of this personally.” Ok, it’s one thing to not take it personally when I snap at you because I’m in an astronomical amount of pain that day and accidentally snapped. When that happens, I apologize and explain. but if I don’t mention my pain, apologize, or explain then YOU ARE THE REASON IM SNAPPING YOU STUPID FUCK. 

end rant. if you read this whole thing, my condolences on the wasted time. I don’t want/need advice. I’m handling the situation the best I can in my current position. Part of that handling is that while The Spawn is gone, I’m going to do a few days where I’m here for the dogs, then when dad gets off work, J scoops me for the night, then drops me back off in the morning on his way in. He is one of those lovely people that isn’t a drain and if we are sitting in the same room, considers it spending time together. Most times, I lay on his furniture at an awkward looking but comfy angle reading a book while he games. We chat a bit during breaks or when I see him ready to throw the controller at the TV (looking at you Witcher 3...) so that will be lovely. 

as always, don’t steal my shit for your blog, article, youtube, just because you’re boring and fucking lazy. Shoo! Scat! 

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird “The Cuteness Principal”

Hey guys, just wanted to get something small and fun out for this week. It isn’t very long, but I hope it’s funny, and you enjoy it :) 

The Intergalactic Journal of Behavioral Psychology and Neurobiology 

Humanity survives just like any other species. The Biological imperative demands that they continue their species through offspring.  All species have this imperative ,though it is shown in different ways. For the Vrul, a sense of duty and logic evolved to tell them offspring was necessary; for the Rundi, the maturation of offspring is inevitable and not up to them in the first place. However, for humans the issue is a bit tougher to understand, for if you know anything about human offspring you know that they are helpless, loud, smelly, slimy, and generally unpleasant requiring years of parental care before they are capable of taking care of themselves. However, evolution created an ingenious way to not only keep humans from murdering their offspring out of frustration, but to make them WANT offspring. 

This need is known as the “Cuteness Principle”. We don’t completely understand it, but we know that certain physical characteristics cause the release of the pleasure chemical “dopamine” in the human brain.  Generally humans are rather bad dealing with these feelings and can react with perceived aggression, or feigned sadness. The two most common feelings include the desire to squeeze the cute thing or the over-exaggerated “awwwww” noise.

Now, only humans can accurately confirm what is cute, but we generally find things with large eyes, big heads, and small noses will do the trick. Unfortunately humans can also find inanimate objects cute. By utilizing the inverse size to width ratio, you can make an object cute to a human; that is if you make something stubby and fat a human will probably think it’s cute.

Anything that fits under this category is likely to attract human attention and the overwhelming desire to protect or take care of whatever it is.  

“Alright everyone, now remember, the GA reports say the Celzex are a very proud warrior race and have easily offended honor. It is important that we remember to treat them with respect, difference, and maybe a little bit of awe or fear, you know to boost their egos.” Commander Vir said adjusting the captain’s cap atop his head and straightening out his uniform.

In deference to this new, and proud warrior race, they had all donned their most formal garb. The Commander wore his uniform complete with cords, gloves, and ribbons while Sunny had done her ceremonial Drev armor. Krill didn’t wear clothes, so he just came as is. A couple of the marines and a few members of the bridge crew trailed behind that, all dressed to impress.

The Galactic Assembly had sent them ahead of the main envoy to meet with the Celzex under the impression that the two warrior races of humans and Drev would be best equipped to deal with this new race.

Together, they stopped just outside the conference room and made a few last minute adjustments to their uniforms. Most, if not everyone, eyed the door wondering what they would find behind it. Images of six foot tall monsters stuck with spines and mouths lined with glistening teeth. 

Commander Vir took a quick, deep breath, and then pressed the button at the side of the door which slid open with a hydraulic hiss. He stepped forward single eye scanning around the room, and then immediately froze, “Sweet mother of…… aw-” A hand dropped onto his shoulder squeezing painfully to cut him off before he could continue.

Commander Vir turned to look up at Sunny, who had stopped him, his eyes were wrinkled in an imploring expression. Behind him, the other humans were filing into the room only to freeze in their tracks. Together their heads tilted, their shoulders bunched, and, despite having the prudence to keep silent, mouthing long and drawn out awwwws to each other.

Sunny had only ever seen this reaction on a couple of occasions usually involving small animals, and tiny human offspring. 

For the commander’s part, he was able to keep his mouth shut only with some difficulty as he fought back the desire to pick one up and hold it, to squeeze it. It was just…. Too adorable.

The proud warrior race of the Celzex where about two feet tall at most constructed out of a colorful ball of fluff, with comparatively large feet and tiny toes. On its torso, which also acted as it’s head, it had a sort of piggish snout, massive wide eyes and a floppy pair of pig-like ears atop its head.

Commander Vir looked back at Sunny with a near pleading expression.

She shook her head at him as if to warn him that it would not be prudent to cuddle the delegation party.

One of the adorable creatures stood just then and marched over to where they stood. It’s feet were so large, that it was forced to walk with a rather floppy waddle. It wasn’t slow mind you, they actually looked quite nimble, but the walk definitely did not help. Sunny kept a hand on the Commander’s shoulder as he fought tooth and claw against his own instincts to squat down and ask the creature it’s name in his sweetest baby voice, used for dogs, and small children.

The creature stopped at his feet and looked up expectantly large eyes narrowed.

The human fought down another aww face, and snapped his hand to a salute, “L-” He cleared his throat here facial muscles twitching aggressively as he tried to maintain a serious face, “Lord Celex, I am Commander Vir of the UNSC and adjunct representative to the Galactic Assembly. We welcome you aboard our ship. Is there anything we may provide you during your stay?” 

Lord Celex glowered up at the commander with one eye closed slightly more than the other. The effect was….. Probably not what Lord Celex had intended. Commander Vir’s mouth twitched, and his chin trembled. Sunny commended his efforts to fight back a smile.

He was clearly fighting a losing battle.

“We require none of your frivolities human. We are here to speak business though I warn you we will not tolerate disrespect from you or any of your men.” Though his voice was relatively normal through the translating software in their implants, they could still hear the high pitched yipping noises that were its real language. 

Glancing over her shoulder she found similar reactions on the other humans. One of the marine’s eyes widened and he had to turn away covering his mouth with a hand.

There was a multitude of biting lips, staring at the ceiling, and downright smiling as they failed to hold their composure.

One of the marines stared ravenously forward with a hungry expression as if she planned on gathering them up in her arms and formally adopting them as her fuzzy children.

Commander Vir walked up to the table and pulled out a chair, “Shall we begin discussions then…. my …. Lord.” He tugged at the collar of his uniform, and Sunny watched the small creature stand taller. She realized with some amusement that his Lord probably thought the human was nervous…. Intimidated by his impressive stature and soldierly bearing.

Lord Celex and his followers refused to ask for smaller chairs, and in so doing they spent at least ten minutes watching as the creatures climbed onto the chairs, with some difficulty. Commander Vir fought heroically against a smile as the warlord scooted, wormed, and inched his way onto the chair using his face to balance himself before standing up.

Another marine looked onward as if he was just aching to go over and help them, or even to just hold one for a few seconds. The reactions about the table were similar, hands were rung, faces fought against their natural inclinations. Smiles erupted only to be covered by hands.

Sunny had never seen such longing on the face of any creature before. 

It was almost heartbreaking to watch.

And it only got worse once the Celzex decided to explain their war practices to the humans. Though the Celzex had, somehow, managed to build ships and travel the universe, they also had no hands, so war, or dueling involved standing about ten feet apart from each other then running headlong into each other. Whoever fell over, or was knocked out lost and was forced to forfeit. This may have been manageable to control if they hadn’t brought videos to ‘demonstrate their might’.

Krill, standing off to the side, worried that the humans might just erupt. Trying to hold back laughter like that couldn’t have been healthy. A marine at the far end of the table struggled so hard his face was red, his body shook, and tears streamed from one of his eyes hand over his mouth as he fought desperately to keep quiet.

Commander Vir utterly failed to keep the smile from his face grinning madly hands clutched tightly on his lap.

Others of the marines clasped their hands as well held up to their chests with doting expressions.

Sunny found herself grateful that the Celzex appeared not to be able to read the human facial expressions. She was, however, forced to fight off a laugh. Coming from a true warrior race these practices were more than laughable.

“You see that we are not averse to war. Our people are mighty warriors and have been for thousands of years. You would do well to respect us, human! If the Galactic Assembly wishes to ally themselves with our might they must be willing to give us the respect we deserve. Is that clear.”

“Of course…. Lord Celex, the assembly will honor you wishes to- to the best of-its-abilities.” His voice had raised a few octaves straining against the baby voice, and a fit of laughter. The muscles about his mouth worked furiously to control himself, and he stood quickly saluting the creature again, “Forgive our quick exit… m-my Lord.” his voice was so tight by the end of this Krill worried that his larynx would blow apart with the pressure

Lord Celex waved a foot dismissively at the humans who were hurriedly rushed form the room, looking over their shoulders and back towards the Celzex with expressions of longing so profound Sunny worried she would have to tackle them.

Out in the hallway the humans were silent as they hurried up the hallway and away from the conference room. Once they were at a sufficient distance, the entire group of them burst into rochus laughter. Leaning against the walls, and sinking to the ground they were practically crying.

Through tears one of the marines lifted his hand and waved it about, “I am…. Lord Celex...f-fear my wrath.” 

“I will destroy you with the power of cuddles!” more laughter 

“But seriously guys can we just talk about HOW CUTE THEY ARE!” The sentiment was chorused. “I just want to hold one so bad.” One of the humans pouted looking down at their empty hands sadly.

Commander Vir leaned against the wall, “That was the hardest thing I have ever done…. I just wanted to…. To squeeze it ...”

“So fluffy!” one of the other humans moaned.

Sunny had a feeling it might be prudent to send a different negotiating team next time. The humans had been valiant in their efforts, but they had been defeated profoundly by lord Celex. If things came to a war, she feared for their safety simply because the humans would be more likely to snuggle the creatures than to make war with them. 

[ryder616]

Rewatching Uprising

Remember when Coulson told Talbot the very hard-earned lesson from his “indexing is cool” days that “nothing good ever comes from putting people on lists”? Well. The Watchdogs got their deplorable paws on the Inhuman Registration List - Hellfire and I are going to have words about that next ep 😁 - and now seventeen are dead, plus all the collateral damage, potential deaths and other unpleasantness during the blackouts.

It’s really not a good look for S.H.I.E.L.D. that the Watchdogs have been ammassing resources and manpower for months with them none the wiser. Other than a certain former agent currently emoing all over L.A., nobody was apparently paying any attention.

However, confronted with his first real crisis, Director Mace acquits himself well, holding the fort against political pressure long enough for the field team to get to the bottom of the mess. Then he looks heroic and reassuring on TV. It’s his job and he’s doing it.

Riding High:

So you think that if you right whatever wrong your uncle was trying to fix that you can get rid of... it. -- Or else I have to ride with it forever.

The conversation Robbie and Daisy have in the car about the Rider must have been a HUGE deal for Robbie. He has kept this terrible burden to himself for years and here he's talking about it for the very first time, and with someone who is uniquely equipped to understand what it might feel like being him, having scary abilities, a consuming drive that is not yours and the weight of the lives taken. In the span of a few minutes he’s opening up about his desire to end his supernatural partnership. For a taciturn guy, it’s a lot.

Maybe this is partly why he makes it his priority to take care of her arm and leaves Gabe alone with her without hesitation. Both the Rider’s stare and his own observations surely tell him that she’s not a threat but he still trusts her with the most important person in his life. And she’s, ah, a little militant, wanted by the law, and with a death wish, so not exactly the safest person to be around if we’re honest.

He has shared this huge, overwhelming part of himself with her already, so they aren’t really strangers anymore, despite how short their acquaintance is.

She’s Got the Powers:

Superspeed’s potential for mischief is very high and it’s especially fun when YoYo unleashes it on enemies like the Watchdogs, who are just a bunch of hateful bigots. I’m sure she would have been able to tight them all in knots even without the guys’ help, but the rest of the crowd was an unpredictable danger, scared and prejudiced as they seemed to be.

Who Let the Dogs Out?

I’m grateful the show never tried to give the Watchdogs anything to sympathize with: the foot soldiers are interchangeable cannon fodder, the named ones like the guy-that-goes-boom (his name actually escapes me atm lol) aren’t given any sad backstory, with their predicament just screaming “karma is a bitch”, and allies like Nadeer are also 100 % awful.

Blake was the only one who elicited sympathy but he squandered it when he decided motivating a bunch of thugs through their worst instincts was a swell idea.

As for the Superior’s origin story, Coulson will give it the perfect amount of care: none. That dude should have just gotten a life.

Stuff:

This is really bad. No more blended drinks. #priorities

Lincoln Campbell. He was one of the good guys. -- I know, and we owe him a great debt. *pats Mace*

A team divided is a team defeated. *drinks*

I like to vet my vengeance demons before I hop in a car with them. Hey! Daisy watched Buffy?

So it should be quick and easy. You guys never learn, do you? 😂

We’re lucky this car’s pre 1980, no electronics. It’s also a scientifically impossible self-healing car so I’m thinking a little EMP wouldn’t trouble it regardless.

Calm down before you go all Carrot Top again. 🤣 

It's a shame to see something this nice in the hands of someone who can't take care of her. Sit down, “homie”. Both the car and the girl are way out of your league.

Robbie is wearing a thick hoodie under his leather jacket. It’s one of his regular comics looks but it’s funny because people were dressing lighter running around Siberia.

[Elena] is at a bachelorette party. She's probably having a good time, dancing and drinking with all those sexy Latino guys. -- No, I’m not taking that bait. Don’t worry, Mack. The only sexy Latino guy in this episode is nowhere near YoYo.

Elena, you really need better friends. Actually, you do have better friends. So ditch these ones without regrets. Yikes.

Coulson’s fanboying over the Ghost Rider. A mood.

I think I know how to solve our problem. We’re gonna have to kill [May]. I hope you weren’t really trying to scare me, AoS, because I’m not a noob, alright? I know nobody important is going to die in episode *3*. Pfffff...

We're making compasses. Oh, come on. It's rudimentary science.Yeah, no big deal. Just rudimentary science. Maybe saving the day. Shades of “and by luck, I mean unappreciated genius” from the Pilot, but cockier. I like it.

If we shut it down and reboot it, then the parts of her brain that have been hyperactivated should reset back to default. -- This is crazy. Nah. Just crazy science, saving the day. 😉

Ready when you are, slide rule. 🤣

X marks the spot. Professor Slide Rule has watched Indiana Jones.

Someone should hug May in every episode because 1) she deserves it 2) her reactions are always a treat.

If [Daisy]’s your real name. -- I’ve had a few. -- One of them Quake? Brace yourself, Daisy. You’re famous.

Robbie needs good people around him and that’s not you. Totally on board with Gabe’s assertive protectiveness of his brother *hugs Gabe* and having someone with bank robberies and destroyed bridges to her name around your loved ones would give anyone pause but damn, if it isn’t open season on making Daisy feel like crap.

She's the one who makes contact. And Daisy doesn't want to be found, so you should respect that. Thank you, YoYo. Your level-headedness in the matter is once again much appreciated.

I liked working in the shadows. Well, then I have good news for you, Fitz. This newfound public acceptance won’t last past episode 15. You are not going to like why. 😬

That should be you up there. -- No. I'm right where I belong. Daisy went for the nuclear option but it looks like Coulson is dealing with the Hive debacle in an analogous way. He felt responsible for Hive being on Earth in the first place, probably feels like he failed hard and that everyone will be better off if someone else is making the hard decisions.

We’re all on the same team, because a team that trusts is a team that *drinks*

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XV: Northern Light Robbery

Let’s get one thing out of the way: once I set my sights on a target, I wasn’t about to rest until I had the target in my possession. Didn’t matter what it was. Didn’t matter whether or not I needed it. All that mattered was that I had it.

“Excuse me?” I called out one day, awakened from a power nap. The time, indeterminate. There were a couple of my men beside me in my quarters, one on each side of me, both heavy sleepers. Before anyone asked, if there was such a person who had the gall to ask, yes, they agreed. While I took anything I desired by force, I still treated the ones who worked for me well, and made sure everyone was well fed and had their basic needs met. It just so happened that for the majority of my crew and I, we shared a mutual interest in carnal pleasures. Everyone who joined seemed to have a certain degree of interest in each other, and an equal degree of interest in me.

But that didn’t mean they didn’t see me as an authority, and at the end of the day, I was still their boss. Once I had a destination, or an object, in mind, there were no if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.

All that to say, those two underlings right next to me were not my concern at that moment. No, what was my concern was the fourth occupant, some unknown entity who stared right at me.

“Excuse me?” I called again. “Who the hell is this?”

She stood covered in raggedy robed clothing, with what looked like soot (or snow. Remember, location) in her hair. Or maybe it was dandruff. Either way, her hair looked stringy, straggly, and hard to determine whether blonde or gray. Eyes wide, like the eyes of a child. But not one on the verge of puppy dog tears, but a different look. It reminded me of the way I used to treat gumball machines when I was little and my ambition had yet to surface.

One of my men shuffled out of sleep and emerged, hunched over in a not-quite-sitting-up fashion.

“Eh boss, who the hell is that?” He pointed his meaty finger at the stranger and asked.

“Hell if I know, dimwit,” I grunted. Yeah, so I wasn’t the only mind being boggled, but it sounded like Captain-Fucking-Obvious coming from one of my underlings. I made it a habit of mine to know everyone who worked for me.

“You got five seconds,” my voice grew stern, like a commander’s voice ought to be. Even on the off chance that this outlier didn’t know who I was (which she ought to, given that I made a name for myself ‘round these parts), I still had to show that I was the authority. “Tell me who you are and what you are doing here or I’ll kick you kick you out into the frozen wilderness. Then nature can decide what to do with you.”

Undeterred, she continued to stare, and a smile began to take shape.

“I am human.”

Those were the first words to come out of her mouth, her voice soft and flaky, with a hint of frost, something which I couldn’t quite explain or make sense of, but seemed an apt descriptor. Unsatisfied, I gave it some more thought. Her voice sounded familiar to me, but not in any point of my life had I known anyone with a voice quite like that. In a way, I was reminded me of a snow globe, but that too didn’t quite sound right. I grew frustrated, so while I wasn’t ready to give up, I decided to put such a minuscule detail on the back burner for the time being.

I watched as she clasped her hands together and closed her eyes. Again with that ‘No Shit Sherlock’ rhetoric which I wasn’t awake enough to deal with.

“I walked. Then I saw something I didn’t know about. So I walked in and now I am here,” she spoke again. With the same timbre and everything. Yes, that was it: timber. Her voice reminded me of the sound a tree made as it fell to the ground, or when wind shakes the branches of a tree, its contents falling down. Yet with all of that, there was a confidence in there which was both comforting and irritating.

“You expect me to believe that?” I retorted as I sifted around the blankets for the nearest pistol. As I did so, I felt her gaze not leaving me for even a second, and she answered my question with one of her own:

“Did I speak with any expectations?”

If anyone else aboard said that, I would have thought they were looking for a fight. I’d probably have smacked them upside the head with one of my pistols. Hell, I could already feel my blood start to boil, but the temperature in my bloodstream must have slowed to a simmer, as her inflection indicated no malice. Rather, they seemed to carry the same sense of wonder that she must have entered with.

She blinked.

“Maybe as a human, I should have expectations. I still have much more to learn. Amen.”

“What the…” I mouthed the words, but managed to get my act together. In fact, with her poor appearance, I was reminded of a little story. You know the one.

“Lemme guess: your father abused you and kicked you out on the streets and won’t let you come home ‘til you sell me something. That it?”

Her smile never left her, and she just looked at me with that same curiosity.

“What is a father?” She asked.

“Aw, poor thing don’t even know what a dad is,” the other man woke up now and chimed in. That bastard.

“Shut up, Barney,” I barked the order.

“Aye, boss,” he took my order with no complaints.

“You know. Your parents. Where they at?” I wrested the conversation back into my control.

“Maybe I have parents,” she stated. For something so uncertain, she didn’t sound any less confident. More like a ‘maybe I lost a few marbles, maybe I didn’t’ kind of thing.

Enough. I forced myself out of bed, took my belt, and tightened it around my waist.

“Barney, Russell,” I commanded. “Disperse back to your quarters. As for you,” I looked down at what I still thought to be a lost child, even if that didn’t really sit right with me. “You’re coming with me.”

She didn’t nod. Didn’t state that she agreed, either. Rather, she walked around the room and ran her fingers down the rusted, metallic walls.

“Interesting,” she remarked. Rather than scold her, I decided to walk out of the room. If she didn’t follow, so be it. I would have one of my men take her and throw her out. Down each cart I went, as I passed by the kitchen first. Just a dusty old sink with a few pots and pans in it, never used. Cobwebs formed, and a cabinet under the sink with nothing in the cabinet. At least not since the last time I checked.

Such a thing wouldn’t have needed a mention, but I heard that voice behind me once more.

“I’ve seen such things before. This must be where you make food,” she observed. I glanced back and there she was, right behind me.

“We eat what we steal. We have no need to cook,” I grumbled as I trudged on. I should have sounded more triumphant, as most people couldn’t make such a bold claim.

“What an interesting way to live. I have more to learn.”

“Yeah, well most people don’t have the privilege to live the way my men and I do. But I saw a train full people one day and decided that’s what I wanted to claim as my own. I knew what I wanted and took it,” I boasted.

“Do you know what you want now?” She asked. I didn’t expect such a response, but then when I gave it some thought, I didn’t know why I didn’t expect it.

“No, but when I do, I’ll take it. That’s why we roam around these parts. The Aurora Borealis Bandits, they call us, or they will if they know what’s good for them. We follow the northern lights and take what we can get our hands on.”

It was only after the words escaped from me that I realized how much I enjoyed describing the little crew I had. It made me feel powerful and I wondered how long it was since I had been able to announce ourselves in such a powerful way.

“I see. I am in the presence of the Aurora Borealis Bandits. What a nice name for a group.”

“You better believe it!” I continued to dominate the conversation, and soon every word was carried with a grinning excitement. “And you’d do well to remember that name!”

“You must be in that group,” was her reply, and to my shock and delight, I turned to a bellyful of laughter.

“I’m not only IN that group, I’m the leader!” I pointed my thumb to my chest and looked up. I am Aurora B!”

She clapped her hands. “How delightful of a name. Aurora.”

Delightful? What about intimidating? Striking fear into the hearts of me? I thought, but instead, decided to let her in on a little bit of trivia.

“Well, my parents named me Eos, but we don’t need to go there. Got it?”

“Aurora,” she repeated. “Latin for ‘dawn’. You could also be Dawn!” She sounded like she made such a revelation, I almost felt heartbroken to strike her down, but I had to keep my authority.

“No. I’m not Dawn. I’m Aurora B.”

“So you are Aurora, but not Dawn. I didn’t know a human could be one, but not the other. I have much to learn about naming conventions.”

“Nah, it’s whatever,” I waved my hand aside. “If I let something like that get to me, I wouldn’t look so tough, would I?”

“Get to you?” She asked, as if what I said didn’t quite register to her. By then, we had already traveled three cars down. The train wasn’t in motion at the moment, stopped in the middle of the forest. If I had to guess, either Northern Canada or Siberia, although one was far from the other. Most of the time, I didn’t know the exact location. As long as my crew followed the northern lights, that was all right with me.

If we were in motion, I imagine the little ‘tour’ I was giving this newcomer would have been much less steady, with one or both of us falling over multiple times. Unpleasant, but that’s the price I paid for luxury.

“Here is where we keep our weapons,” I pointed out. Another instance, “and this is where we keep our bounties: money we rob and other treasures. Coming up is the pantry. No, I don’t know why it’s so far from the sink, but it doesn’t really matter since we don’t even use the damn thing. I’ll getcha an apple. You’re probably hungry.”

“I could be hungry. I haven’t given it consideration,” there she went again in her usual curious fashion. I took a detour to the pantry, pulled out an apple, and threw it to her. She looked at the apple, then back to me.

“Humans eat apples. I can eat apples,” she stated, and I wasn’t sure whether or not that was meant as a question or a statement. But as usual, if I continued to dwell on such a thing, I’d be there all day.

As we passed by one of the living quarters, she noted, “there are many humans here.” That kind of struck me in a funny way, but I couldn’t get mad about it. There was an air about her that brought out the life in me and reminded me how exhilarating my lifestyle could be. It was as if something told me, “if you live like a Queen, you ought to revel in your majesty.”

At last, we got to the last car and I saw the back doors wide open, the sharp gusts of winds inviting themselves in with chills so brisk that I swore they could carve cuts through my cheeks. As strong as the frozen tundra was, I had to prove stronger. So I inched forward and held onto the handle to one of the double doors as I struggled to pull it back. It didn’t help that the wind was pushing against me, something I really didn’t want to think about, but damn, it sure gave me a work out. I pulled harder, and as I managed to get the door closer to me, there was a screeching sound that must have pierced the cars behind us. Once one door was set in place, I went to the other door and repeat the process, which at that point I already felt like I pulled a muscle, but getting the doors closed was important than muscle.

After sealing the doors shut, I stood hunched over and drew labored and heavy breaths. My vision blurred, as well, and I must have been about ready to pass out. Not a good look for someone like me, but everything turned to static and my ears popped. Every part of my body indicated a desire to fall over and faint, but I got just the wake-up call I needed when I turned around and just about jumped in place.

There the girl was, with her mouth wide open as she tried to stick the whole apple in her mouth. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Just who...who did such a thing?!

I think the most impressive thing about it was that she succeeded, to an extent, with half of the apple sticking out, and the other half in her mouth. Damn, talk about pulling muscles.

“You’re going to choke on it!” I gasped. Well...I didn’t really think she could stick the whole thing in her mouth, but either way, it baffled me, to say the least. Not that I wasn’t baffled by her behavior before.

I snatched the apple from out of her mouth and scolded her.

“Don’t you know how to eat an apple? You take a bite! Like this!” I tore through the crisp flesh of the apple and swallowed the piece. “There! Now you try!”

She clapped. “That was interesting!”

I handed the apple back to her. She examined it, then took a little bite.

As she chewed about, I stared at her. I could still feel a draft in the air, and the howls from the wind outside were loud enough to seep through and break what otherwise would be an intense silence.

What started as a stare of examination, curiosity, even, became an exercise in insanity. True, she spoke as if everything around her was a curious sight, but there was something...off...about her that made her something of a curiosity as well. I awaited her next move, but as time went on, she continued to chew. And chew.

“Swallow!” I just about screeched out the command as I stamped my foot against the metallic floor. Its clang echoed, though she did not appear started. With one gulp, she did as instructed, then looked down and smiled.

“Thank you. Amen.”

That whole ordeal was one bite of an apple. One measly bite.

“Now that that’s out of the way, let me make one thing clear, Ms. Whoever-You-Are,” I crossed my arms and leaned forward. It really did seem like I was talking down to a child.

“Astraea,” she spoke, her same soft and enchanted voice. At first I thought she said ‘ashtray’, but my poor popped ears were to blame for that one. “Star maiden. Starry night.”

An overrated Van Gogh painting, I thought, as I hadn’t yet made the connection that she had told me her name and what it meant, and wasn’t just spouting random nonsense.

“All right, then, Astray-ugh,” I put a disgusting emphasis on the ‘ugh’ part at the end. “Listen up: If you’re going to stay here, you’re going to need to bust your ass.”

She raised her hand. “What does that mean?” She asked.

“It means you’ve gotta work...look, how old are you, anyway?”

“Old?”

Did she not know anything? Just what kind of life has she had?

“You know, how long have you been alive for?”

“Oh!” Her face grew more animated and her voice was matched with a smile. “I have existed as a human for 18 years!”

Eighteen? But she looks half that! No matter how I look at her, I just can’t picture her as an adult! No way!

Those were my thoughts, but I shook them off and accepted her words at face value, however incredible they may have been.

“As I was saying, before we got sidetracked, as long as you are here, you’re going to be put to use. Most of the crew here are good for two things: heists and robberies. What we lack around here is someone to clean up the damn place! Come with me!” I commanded.

In response, she gave a short nod, along with her bright smile. It seemed like the one light in this cold, dark home made of rusty machinery.

We walked back to the previous car we were in and all along the walls were a series of bars. There were makeshift beds and pillows lined up on the floor, though it really wasn’t the comfiest of places to sleep. I liked to think that everyone made the most of it, and I always swore that one of these days, we would exchange some of the money we’ve accumulated over the years for better means of rest. It just hadn’t yet happened, and it didn’t help matters that we were always on the run, looking for the next target. If not for the fact that we slept where we ran, it would seem like we didn’t have much of a home.

“There,” I pointed to one space that wasn’t occupied by sheets and pillows. “That is where you can stay. Wait right there and don’t move.”

“I can do that,” she replied, as breathy as ever. “Amen.”

Her mannerisms never ceased to baffle me, and when I returned with a bucket of soap water and a sponge, she stood in place, just as I told her to, and stared off, eyes wide. If I stopped for just a second, I would have been just a little unnerved. Me, Aurora B, who struck fear into the hearts of anyone, scared by a little kid. No. I couldn’t have that.

I knelt down and set the bucket next to her.

“I want the floors and the walls all wiped off. This train used to look shiny and now look at it!” I ordered her, and she turned her head in a slow, stilted manner, and looked up. I gulped, and felt the hairs on my neck stand.

“How will I do that?” She asked at last, with not a hint of ill-will in her voice. Just the same, breathy timbre.

My nerves and I couldn’t stand it! I took that sponge and did a quick wiping motion on the wall. “Just like that! Get to work!”

She smiled, looked down and closed her eyes, then said, “thank you. Amen.”

I stormed off. To think I would find myself in a situation where I would have to walk someone through things so basic, it was beneath me. Not only that, but I wasn’t used to having my word go unquestioned. Throughout my life, I lived by one philosophy: to take whatever I wanted without compromise.

For most people, I might have seemed like someone with a troubled childhood. “Oh, where did she go wrong? She had so much potential.” But no, my parents loved me and raised me just fine, I didn’t go wrong anywhere, and hell yes, I had potential. It just so happened that my potential was realized in something that many didn’t approve of.

There was little need to dwell on the, ‘how I got there’, or little meaningless crap like that. What good was the past when the present was far more valuable? That said, if I were to trace back the origins, my earliest memory would probably have been when I was a child, not much older or younger than that kid, Astraea. Oh wait, she said she was eighteen. Well, I was probably half that, then.

Funny enough, I remembered being with my parents, and we were at some store. If I had to guess, it was a department store. My father went to go look at hunting equipment, and my mom kept a close eye on me. So far, so good, so hey Freud, fuck you.

I think it was in the middle of some junk food aisle when the urge overcame me; I saw a candy bar on the shelf, some dark chocolate sea salt bar with little peanut and toffee bits. I could remember (and taste) its bittersweet and salty goodness even now. Back when it happened, I had no idea what it tasted like other than the packaging enticed me: its gold foil frame, with a smooth auburn paper wrapping over it. Big, bold letters.

So I grabbed it. My mom noticed, told me to put it back, that she wasn’t about to buy that, but those words only sealed the deal on how much that chocolate bar mattered. It was, by all accounts, my forbidden fruit.

I didn’t put it back. Well, I made it look like I put it back. I turned my back to my mom, stuffed the bar in the waist end of my pants, with the other half under my shirt. I must’ve thought I was the smartest little shit in the toilet bowl, but when it came time to leave the store, I was stopped by security guards who told me that my actions were caught on camera. They lectured me on how shoplifting was bad, blah, blah, blah, like anyone (especially at that age) really cared what they had to say. To me, they were the ones who committed that crime, and that crime was taking from me what I wanted.

Needless to say, my resolve wasn’t broken, and instead, strengthened. Now, it wasn’t enough to be a thief. Anyone could take something and not get caught, if they were just a little clever about it. I, however, couldn’t give less of a fuck about getting found out, as long as I proved the victor and got what I wanted.

Day in, and day out, I trained in much the same ways a child would play: I took things like tag and hide and seek very seriously. More so, tag. If I was spotted, I’d just have to make it a habit to run fast enough to slip away. Whether it meant a new hiding place or not. Maybe my ambitions matched my age, but I wasn’t naive. I knew the risks, I knew that there would be cameras, and I knew there was a good chance that those same security guards would stand at those doors, and it would be all too easy for them to grab onto me. If that happened, I didn’t imagine myself just getting off with a warning. You know that old saying, “you don’t get lucky twice”.

On one lucky day, I found myself back at that store with my parents. An overconfident child like me shouldn’t have been able to last, but wouldn’t you have it? It happened: I held that chocolate bar once more in my hands. Not only that, but I held it up. If there were going to be cameras on me, I may as well not hide it. I must’ve thought, look at it, boys. Come and get it, if you think you can.

Not only were there security guards, but there were people who worked there all over going, “anything I can help you with?” Which, if I had my wits about me, I’d just say “yeah you can shut up and let me walk out of here with what I want,” but instead, I just made it into a little game of hide and go seek tag. They would have to find me, and not only that, but they would have to catch me. Oh, and I was fast.

Once I was near the doors, I slid between those two security guards as if it were a baseball game and I just went for a home run. Then, before they could grab me, I bolted.

From there, it was the classic runaway kid story. My parents must have been a combination of worried and furious. There must have been a search, or something. Say what you want, but I wasn’t about to drag them when they acted with care, with safety in mind, and always treated me well enough. It just so happened that being treated well wasn’t enough for me. Not when I had a prize in my sights.

My next few exploits were more of a blur, other than life on the streets wasn’t hard for very long. With each new thing I saw and wanted, I gained just a little more in turn. But damn, that first time, being so little, and biting into that chocolate bar as I sat, undisturbed, on top of a shipping container in the middle of a dock.

Somewhere along the way, I set my sights high enough to be a tried and true bank robber. Now that, I remembered not going as smooth as planned, but I couldn’t remember whether I served any time or managed to escape, or what. Damn, sometimes my memories weren’t very helpful. All those vague gaps and all that. Either way, I remember not getting those leafy greens that I so desired in my diet. But I impressed a few people, and they decided to join me in my exploits.

Little by little, our crew grew bigger. We traveled all over, even faked our deaths at times to throw others off our trail. Now, I didn’t want to get into logistics, but as far as I saw it, our train hideout was our crowning achievement. That thing was so advanced that it could move without the need for rails, something which I didn’t have the know-how to explain, but it just worked. Now, using it to travel around the arctic was probably a bad idea, given if we were to ride over thin ice, well...we’d be on thin ice. So it was a good thing that we had such a great navigator, one esteemed Allison Daughters, on our side.

Just a day after our strange inhabitant joined the crew, I woke up, a little more dignified, and trotted on down to check up on the one who I tasked with cleaning in exchange for a place to rest. However, I didn’t have to get very far to find her: she was in the car just behind where I slept, and in her hand was the sponge, all covered in soot, and she sat while scrubbing away at the walls.

“What are you doing?” I asked, almost in a yawn. I rubbed my eyes. I needed some scotch. Or coffee. No, a combination of the two.

She looked up and smiled. “I busted my ass, just as you requested. Amen,” her words floated in the air while her hand, with a circular motion, continued to scrub away.

I looked around, unable to deny her handiwork, and I swore, I could see bits of myself reflected on the walls. I couldn’t remember the last time it was that clean. If the ones I stole the train from knew what condition it had been in, they would’ve been more pissed about its negligent state than it being stolen. That I was sure of.

“All right...I can see that…” I growled. “But if I see just one speck of dirt on any of the other cars, there’s going to be hell to pay. Got that?”

“You say such interesting things,” she spoke while opting to scrub away rather than turn to me. I couldn’t even tell if her mouth moved or if I just heard her voice in my mind. Jeez, I really did need a drink, lest my head go places I didn’t want it to go.

Each car I patrolled, I was met with a beautiful sheen I wasn’t accustomed to. Indeed, much to my delight (and chagrin, as I really was hoping to dole out some punishment), the whole train reeked of polish. I growled, my blood boiled over, but more than that, I sighed before shaking my head and letting slip a smile.

“You sure are something, aren’t you?” I voiced my commendation with the closest I could muster to a compliment. Her efforts weren’t only noticed by me, however, as before I could return to tell that strange one good job, or some gruff equivalent, I was stopped when Russell ran up to me.

“Eh boss, when did we hire a maid service?” He pointed to the walls behind him.

My smile grew wider. “Just yesterday.”

Whether she would have been useful or not as part of the crew when we went on heists was something I was not keen on finding out, as I knew all too well the danger that went into our robberies. I knew that if I got my start being a bank robber, as opposed to starting small and working my way to where I was, my life would have gone in a much different direction. Possibly a shorter one. That said, there was a stark difference between how things were right before she arrived, and how things were after.

There was a period where we struggled, like, really struggled. As it turned out, being out in the middle of nowhere in the freezing cold and needing coal to keep warm wasn’t a walk in the park. Not just that, but the route we took, which bless Allison’s heart, she knew how to keep us out of trouble, left us with few options when it came to places to rob.

So in turn, we had to conserve more food, which made none of us happy, least of all me. We also had to share beds and cuddle to keep warm, which would have been fine if it was just to satisfy our sexual needs, but the needs we needed met instead weren’t very pleasing. Huddled together, all shivering as we tried to sleep, that was no way to live. But we had to make do and only use up our coal to move about.

But after Astraea? Damn. It was like night and day. New places were spotted where we got bigger hauls. Large stores with a treasure trove of goods, all with our names on them. If someone tried to give chase, we’d shoot them down without a second thought. Whether she had anything to do with it or not, I couldn’t help but think that we were back in our glory days and with it came improvements abound: bigger beds for everyone, better clothing, sources of entertainment, and most of all, loads and loads of coal. Gone were the worries about freezing to death in the confines of our home.

That little blessing in human form began to be known as our “good luck charm” and every time we went on a heist, at least one of us would remember to go over to Astraea and say, “wish me luck!” To which she would usually stare and say, “have fun.”

Afterward, once we were a safe enough distance from any pursuers, we would all gather around and lift that creature up and have her crowd surf over us.

Such was my life, but I couldn’t complain one bit.

That was, until one such job left a bad taste in my mouth:

We all grew desperate once again as we hit another dry spell. Few, if any places for days at a time, and when there were places, they didn’t hold much in them. Some were downright creepy. Like the abandoned research bases we would find, with dark halls, messes of broken lab equipment and papers strewn about, and not a soul to be found. It would have been nice if there was at least one thing of value to extract there, but upon seeing streaks of red on the walls, a greater chill ran down my spine than the simple winter chill: blood, dried blood. What happened here?

After that, we got out of there, and any time we spotted a place that looked abandoned, we just ignored it and moved on. I didn’t really believe myself to be afraid of ghosts, or even believe in them, but something about places like that just felt wrong.

Restless, I wanted to see signs of life and places to raid, I went up to our navigator, the conductor, Allison, and leaned my elbow on her shoulder.

“Speak to me, Allie.”

She looked up to me, and even with a worried expression, she was radiant. Her thick, orange hair, like thistle, and those freckles which ambushed her face, the only one in my crew who surpassed her in beauty was Russell Jimmies, but I wasn’t about to get into him when I wasn’t even next to him.

“Things aren’t good, captain.”

I grimaced.

“Here I was hoping you would whisper sweet little lies about how everything will be alright.”

“Not for you, and not for the sake of anyone else here.”

I began to wonder whether we hadn’t been paying as much attention to our good luck charm lately. Not that I was foolish to believe we actually had a good luck charm, but still, it was nice to imagine. I called for Russell over my microphone.

“Yo Russ. Get the hell up here!”

It wasn’t long before he hurried in, and I admired his face before addressing him in earnest. The way he had such high and visible cheekbones, the way he could never grow a beard, yet was always rugged with little whiskers. Then there was the matter of his eyebrows, so dark and thick, the most prominent part of him. In my head, I pictured him as the ideal Jack London protagonist. Once I was done studying him, I was ready to give my commandment:

“Go check up on our good luck charm, would ya?”

“Aye boss, sure thing,” he grunted.

As he ran off, I shook my head and smiled, just like how I was back when Astraea first cleaned our walls.

“I sure hope he doesn’t think I’m degrading him by making him do such a simple task,” I expressed my concern.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, captain,” Allison assured me. “We all admire you for a reason.”

Within a few minutes later, Russell ran back in with his report.

“Well?” I asked.

“She’s in her usual spot,” he replied. “I explained our situation to her as well as I could, and she said something like, ‘I too would like to see more humans’. You know how it is with her.”

That I did.

One such incident came to mind where after a successful heist, I decided to give the little snowflake a gift, so I went to her space and handed her one of those portable game consoles. After she took it, she looked up. Yes, there was the expected “thank you”, but she also asked, “what is this?”

To which I replied, “this is video games,” and pressed the power button. She looked down, then back up at me.

“So this is video games. Amen.”

If I recall, I asked her about it one day, whether she had fun with it, and she smiled and told me something like, “I came to a crossroads, and thus, made peace with it. Amen.”

I took that to mean that she didn’t want to play anymore. Which, fine, she had that right. Still, if it were me, I’d have been all over that thing.

After I was done in memory lane, I was back to the cold, harsh reality we faced.

“Well, I hate to admit it, but I too would like to see people,” I gave Russell my reply. It was less  desire for connection (why would I need that when I had my crew with me?) and more that I missed the feeling of watching others cower in fear as I hauled off their possessions.

There I went again, lost in my head. It took a gasp from Allison to break off the spell.

“There! There’s a building with its lights on!”

I looked out the window, and sure enough, there stood a long wooden building, two floors high, and smoke floating above their chimney. Then, I saw two figures next to the window, sat down with a look on their faces like they had little to mind but their own business. My initial excitement wore off when I thought of how normal everything looked.

“Hmm...I don’t know. This doesn’t look like it would have much of what we’re looking for. Besides, have we really stooped so low that we’ve gone from robbing big businesses to breaking into people’s homes?”

“Desperate times,” Allison reminded me.

I sighed. It wasn’t one of those happy sighs.

“Yeah. You’re right.” I stood up and announced. “Let’s do this, then.”

Allison’s eyes widened and she leaned up as well. “You mean…?” There was a tense excitement to her voice, and so I confirmed just what she suspected.

“That’s right,” I nodded, then yelled into the microphone on my lapel. “Get your weapons ready, everyone. I found us our next target.”

Part of me didn’t want to go, and would have rather kept moseying along. If this was someone’s home (even if it did look rather fancy), I didn’t just want to leave the folks with nothing.

Our train came to a grinding halt at our target’s door. I didn’t bother to check to see if the residents had gotten up from the commotion, as I was already in the weapons room and focused on getting the job done. With my trusty steel framed rifle loaded up, I led the charge and was the first one to step outside, into the soft, frosty soil. My heavy boots left an imprint and I wish I wore gloves as I could already start to see my skin go purple. I knew I should have worn heavier clothing, something else besides a turtleneck sweater, but it was too late to go back now. I wasn’t about to go back inside just to grab my jacket when I meant business.

“Wait out here,” I told a few members of my crew, each with rifles in hand. “You’ll be backup in case I can’t do this alone.”

Five crewmates in total stood outside next to me, each with their rifles in hand, and gave me a short nod. Each of them wore their coats. Good, at least they had sense. As my attention shifted back to the door in front of me, I stormed in and pushed it open, as a strong gust of wind forced its way beside me and slid debris of frost and dirt on the floor.

“Oh great, now I have to sweep that up!” I heard the squeaky voice of a short young woman with wavy green hair who I chose to ignore for the time being. My eyes darted around the room; sleek tile floorboards, booths and tables arranged around the perimeter of the room. In one of the booths to my left was a woman with black shoulder length hair who sat alone as she ate a sandwich. I didn’t notice many details, as her back was turned to me, as if my presence was of no concern to her. To my right, sat another woman, with a sleek brown shade to her, similar to the sheen of the sheen of the tables and floors. Likewise, was her brown, curly hair, which she had in a ponytail. Rather than look up, I noticed her focused on a set of cards spread out on the table.

Across from me and to my left stood a long counter with stools next to it. Behind that counter was the wall, with various glasses and ales hung from the wall.

Was this a tavern? Did I step in a tavern of all places?

Then, behind the wall was a window, which I could see pans and a stove top.

This isn’t somebody’s home at all. This is a restaurant, I came to the realization, and upon doing so, smiled a toothy grin.

“Uh, hey, miss, I don’t know, I’m sure it’s fine to be carrying around a big gun like that. Like, I don’t own the place, I don’t give a shit, really.”

That same voice, again. She sounded just a little irritated, but must not have processed the kind of situation she was in. Then again, it didn’t seem like any of the three women in the room paid me any mind. Well, all of that would change.

I heard that same small young lady with the attitude let out a heavy sigh of frustration.

“I know I’m supposed to be the waitress and all, but really, you can seat yourself, so the sooner you do, the sooner I can take your order.”

“Actually, I’m not hear for that.”

“Great, another pointless visitor,” she scoffed. That really ticked me off. I held my rifle up and my spread grin further, allowing a full view of all of my pearly whites (or yellow, but what did it matter?)

“I’m here to rob the place!” I announced, loud and proud.

That time, she heard, and she took a step back and shifted to a crouched stance. That’s what I wanted to see: agitation, pure fear. But instead…

“Finally! I’ve been waiting for a chance to put my practice into good use!” The waitress countered with a smirk of her own, as if she was pleased at the very prospect of danger. I saw her reach into her pocket and my mind turned toward it being a gun in her pocket, or something to distract me with. I’d rather have avoided a massacre as much as possible, so I shot my rifle upward, into the air as a warning shot.

That didn’t deter her, and I saw the object fly toward me, which meant I only had a second to react. I swung my rifle back down and blocked the object that had been thrown my way. I looked down to see that it was a knife.

She thought she could throw a knife at me? Me?!

In my peripheral, I noticed that the beauty playing cards was absent. Then I heard the thumps against the floor and turned to see her running toward me, hand balled into a fist, and threw her arm forward for a punch. Again, I acted fast and blocked with the metal frame of my gun.

“Ha! That’s more like it!” I couldn’t contain my excitement. “Been a while since someone put up a fight!”

“Sorry ‘bout that, lassie,” she replied with an attitude that was equal in excitement, but also carefree. “I was doing tarot readings for myself and got in the zone.”

She then used her other hand and grabbed onto my weapon as she tried to yank it toward her. I kept a firm grip, but then I realized that she wasn’t trying to take my weapon from me: she was trying to pull me up using my weapon and flip me over. Hell, she damn near did so, as I felt the force of her strength just about sweep me off my feet.

In a desperate move, I let go of my weapon and watched as she stumbled back, then I reached into my pocket and pulled out a pistol (it was always a good idea to and shot the rifle, which resulted in a small explosion. I huffed, and before I could so much as catch my breath, right beside me was the waitress again, with a knife in her hand, as she lunged herself at me.

I wasn’t as lucky that time, as I was too preoccupied with that other woman and had little time to prepare. That knife found its way in my underarm, just below my elbow and I grunted out in pain as I watched blood drip from out from that torn hole in my sleeve and onto the floor.

“That was my favorite turtleneck…” I growled. As far as I was aware, not one person among my crew knew how to sew. Needless to say, I was pissed. I grabbed onto that chick’s wrist, the same one connected to the hand she stabbed me with, and threw her across the room. After another huff, I was hunched over in a cold sweat.

“Listen up!” I barked. “I’m through playing games! I’m going to sweep this place clean!”

“You should tend to your stab wound before it gets infected,” came a low, dispassionate voice. I turned to my left in the direction that the voice came from: it was the woman with the sandwich in hands. Still minding her own business. For some reason, that just pissed me off further. Even when those other two saw me as a potential threat, that woman continued to sit there as if I didn’t even exist. Who did she think she was?

“You!” I growled. “You should be cowering in fear right about now. Like a good customer.”

She shrugged. “Not a customer.”

“Then what are you? If you work here, you should also either be cowering in fear, or doing all you can not to let this restaurant get robbed!”

“If you’re going to rob the place, just do it. I just wanna enjoy my sandwich,” she then turned her head, and I caught a glimpse of her face: a nice, sienna tan, and similar to Russell, a high cheekbone. Her silky hair that covered her forehead swept and flowed in a mesmerizing motion. Maybe the knife had hit an artery or a vein, because I was more entranced than I should have been.

“Someone get me some gauze,” I grumbled into the microphone attached to the nape of my turtleneck.

“You okay, boss?” I heard from the other end.

“Heh, just peachy. Just got a little caught off guard.”

“Need us to go in?”

I shook my head. “Not just yet.”

I noticed movements from the waitress next to the counter as she struggled to pick herself back up.

“Damn it, the only one allowed to throw me around is Remora,” I heard the waitress groan.

The hell? Who? And, more important, WHAT?!

“How’re you holding up, Demetria, dear?” The other woman who I had knocked down asked as she pulled herself up. She was covered in minor burns and bruises, but aside from that, still kicking.

“My ego’s wounded, but otherwise, I’ll be fine,” the waitress, who I presumed to be this Demetria person replied.

I pointed my pistol at Demetria, then the other woman on the floor.

“Now, don’t try anything.”

Beside me, the loathsome indifferent woman stood up and I thought I could see the faint trace of a smile on her face.

“Have you ever taken a life?” She asked.

I gulped, eyes wide, and taken aback. For a second, my brows unfurled and raised, but I soon returned to a scowl.

“Care to find out?” I groaned, as I wanted to sound more cool, but the pain in my arm stung and I couldn’t help but wince.

“It makes no difference to me. I’m not going to stop you. I just think that if you’re going to point a gun at people, you better be willing to make good on your threats.”

There it was again! I wasn’t just going to stand there and let some arrogant asshole make a fool out of me, it didn’t matter whether they posed a threat or not! But as I reeled my finger around the trigger, slow with my pull, she ducked down and swung her arm up against my wrist. Caught off guard, I dropped my pistol. Such a risky move, not to mention the fact that I thought I held a tight grip. I couldn’t believe my luck.

“Move in!” I commanded, and in stormed those five crewmates with their rifles in hand, all pointed at the one who had disarmed me.

“Oh. I see,” she looked around and took a step back before she sat back down at the booth.

“That’s right,” I flashed my smile once again, and this time, I was triumphant. “Did you think I’d just come here alone?”

She shrugged. “Very well. Take what you want. Not that there’s much here, right Sunny?”

“Actually, we’ve got a safe in the basement where we keep our ales,” the strong one with the ponytail replied. Ah, so her name is Sunny, I thought. Good. Now I have a name to put to her face.

“You weren’t supposed to tell them that!” Demetria scolded her, as if she thought those three could run one past me anyhow.

“It’s smart that she did, seeing as you’re surrounded. We would’ve found out if you were lying, anyway,” I explained before turning to my microphone and barked another order. “I’m gonna need at least five more of ya to get in here and sweep this place clean! And get that damn gauze, already!”

While my partners were locked onto those three nuisances, I limped on over to a stool at the counter and sat myself down. Now that I was more in control of the situation, I couldn’t help but kick back and relax. Sure, I still needed my wound tended to, but I’ve had worse stab wounds. I twirled around a metal salt shaker on the counter, then addressed my captive audience.

“Name’s Aurora B. Know what the ‘B’ stands for?” I mused. Hey, I was nothing if not courteous to my victims.

“I do, but since there’s a child present, I won’t say it,” that stupid sandwich eater with the unfair silky hair spoke up.

“It stands for Borealis!” I corrected, as the implication was clear as day.

“Right. That would’ve been my second or third guess.”

Ugh.

“What about you, huh? What should I call you?”

“I’m Joanna Mama, but you can call me Jo Mama.”

“You fancy yourself a comedian, huh?” I retorted.

“Nah. You’re just walking into joke after joke.”

“Where is Tigershark, anyway?” Sunny asked.

“Beats me. Hiding somewhere safe, I hope,” replied that...Jo…person? Look, I wasn’t going to call her Jo, I knew that wasn’t really her name.

Soon a few more of my underlings ran in, including Allison, I would’ve expected to stay on the train.

“What are you doing here?” I balked.

She was the one who held the gauze. While I didn’t object to being treated, it was just that it should have been someone else.

“How could you be so careless?” She chided me while she checked out my wound.

“I wasn’t careless, jeez. I just got caught off guard,” I argued.

“You were careless,” Ms. Not-Jo chimed in.

“Shush, you!” I called over before turning back to Allison. “You’re the one being careless! You’re supposed to stay on the front of the train so we can make a clean getaway!”

“Oh, come on! I’m the closest thing to a medical professional we got! If anyone’s gonna treat you, it’s gonna be me!” Allison sounded a little too elated considering how much pain I was in.

“I wish that was me and Remora,” whined Demetria, that same fool who stabbed me in the first place.

“Dunno who this ‘Remora’ person is, but they sound like a real tool,” I called over to my assailant.

“Hey, at least I’m functional,” that same one who hadn’t paid me much mind other than to demean me shot those words back my way. It didn’t take much to put two and two together, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey! Stay still!” Allison scolded me.

I can’t help it! I finally know the name of that bastard! I’m downright ecstatic!

“You guys find the safe yet?” I asked into the microphone.

“Not yet, boss, but we’re in the basement. Turns out there was a hidden hatch in the kitchen. Took us a while to spot it.”

“Keep looking. Grab anything else we can take with us while you’re at it.”

Sunny stood up, and one of my subordinates flinched, but instead of try anything stupid, Sunny just sat in that booth with her cards and examined them. “Weird, I didn’t get the tower.”

Demetria, too, stood up, but she didn’t go anywhere.

“If you try any more knife tricks, you’ll have more holes in you than a wheel of Swiss cheese,” I warned her.

“I bet I can take ‘em,” that cocky pipsqueak scoffed. It took a few words from Sunny to get her to back down:

“Hun, there’s a reason you don’t bring a knife to a gunfight. There’s too many of them, anyway.”

Demetria let out a melodramatic groan.

“Still, you shouldn’t just sit there and let this happen, Remora! I know you’re capable of beating all these guys!”

“Ray told me not to be violent in the diner,” was Remora’s reply.

“I’m pretty sure my husband meant just in general,” Sunny added. “Not in cases like these. Since when do you care what he says, anyway?”

“I don’t. It’s just that it seemed like a simple enough request at the time.”

Heh. As if someone like her could’ve taken my crew on, anyway. What a joke. Out of curiosity, I leaned my head over and saw Remora’s gaze focused on the window.

“Looks like you got the polar express out there,” she observed.

“You’re damn right, and we’re all out of cocoa.”

Allison’s fingers pressed down on the folds of the wound. I seethed, and told her, “careful or I’ll bite your ear off,” to which she said, “later.”

Once she had me wrapped up in gauze, she took her leave and ran off back to the train.

Now I just had to wait for my folks downstairs to come back up with bags of goodies. It didn’t take long, either, for a couple of them to emerge.

“You wouldn’t believe the stuff down there, boss!” One explained as he lugged around sacks of cash.

“Oh yeah?” I asked, and I wished I could lean my elbow against the counter, but I had a little knife problem at the moment.

“Yeah, these guys are loaded!”

“I’m not! Let me in on some of that cash!” Demetria interjected. The mouth on that runt, I swear.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get one of my vitals,” I growled.

“I would’ve if you let me,” she stuck her tongue out.

My crew took a few more trips down until they had exhausted the place. Once we got everything we could, we dispersed, and I followed behind my armed crew members. Before I went with them, however, I looked back to bid the ones I bled dry adieu.

“Well gals, it’s been fun, but now we gotta hit the road.”

By then, the bothersome trio stood next to each other toward the back of the diner and watched.

“Not to worry, guys, I’ll go after them,” Demetria tried to sound confident, which didn’t seem to impress the other two.

“Again: knife. Gun. Bad,” Sunny reminded. “I’ll go. I’ve got more experience being shot at than you.”

“By that standard, I may as well go. Besides, I kind of let them do as they pleased in the first place,” Remora shrugged.

“No, you gotta stay here while I go after them, that way I can impress you!” Demetria urged Remora.

I couldn’t stand any more bickering, especially when none of them stood a chance.

“Don’t any of you even try it. My guys won’t hesitate to mow any one of you down if you so much as come near us.”

The three of them blinked, then Sunny spoke up once again:

“Seriously though, where is Tigershark?”

I shook my head. Whatever meaningless drivel they were going to go on about next wasn’t any concern to me. Rather, I turned my attention back to the train and climbed aboard. Once I gave them the word, we hightailed it out of there, and I began to look forward to the celebration we would soon have.

Later, after being treated, I tossed the knife onto the floor in my quarters and grumbled. Russell was next to me, wondering why I wasn’t out celebrating.

“That heist was easy, eh boss?” He affirmed.

“Yeah. But something still bothers me about it.”

Oh, no. It was too easy, which I should’ve been overjoyed for, but instead, I kept turning to the fact that not a single one of them seemed intimidated by me. It really got my blood boiling.

“Say, did anyone stop by our good luck charm before we went in?” I found myself asking.

“No idea, boss.”

I leaned my head back and smiled. “Well, at least we still came out on top. So either way, luck must still be on our side.”

[land-of-brains-and-chocolate]

more drafty part of 97!fic i think i am enjoying precisely because no one else on earth will ever want to look at it and even i am not that invested

It happens, inevitably, during their first coffee date. They’re at Rachel’s place, pleasantly chatting about the ways childhood trauma manifests in internal family systems. The radio sitting on the counter plays one witness statement about Carnage after another, ranging from grief-stricken to awed, the media spraying the crowd with the sickening, intoxicating cocktail of revulsion and fascination like a race car driver celebrating a win under a rain of champagne. 

Apart from the time he was rendered into his molecular components in a blaze of white phosphorous, it’s everything Kasady would’ve wanted. It’s a background rumble of unpleasantness, up until one voice rings familiar in Eddy’s ears, though with a different tone than the one that voice used towards him - not outwardly derisive, not depressingly honest, but running along and flapping its arms, trying to rile up a flock of idiots.

“Yes, I did! I faced the monster! I got close enough to stare down those blank, soulless eyes! Smell the sheer, unrelenting hatred of humanity rolling out of its terrible mouth! I’ll go so far as to claim nobody got closer than me and escaped with their life! And it was damn close for a second there!”

“Eddy? Are you okay?”

Eddy sets his cup of coffee down, both hands wrapped around it.

“That… That’s my old boss. Bitterman. On the radio.”

“Oh?” she says.

“Not Carnage! The other one! Yes, there was a second! Let me tell you, one of these things is meaner than the next. But they- They don’t want you to know that! They don’t want you to know that nobody’s got any idea how many more monsters might be running around!”

“Oh,” she says.

Eddy taps his fingers against his cup, eyes fixed on the table.

“I may have dropped him from a third story window.”

“Eddy, for the love of-”

“He had it coming!” he says. He looks into Rachel’s eyes for a moment, sees some mix of fear and disappointment, and averts them again.

“I’m sorry. It’s not like I’ll be doing anything like that again.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Eddy,” she says, taking a nervous sip from her cup.

“I know who it was attached to, too. Yes! He was in on it! He needs to be brought in! I don’t care if that thing’s dead or alive, he's still a traitor to humanity! We can’t let someone like that walk around outside, where there’s girl scouts and puppy dogs and tabloid editors!”

“Oh, god,” Eddy says, feeling sick.

Rachel struggles for words, hands hovering away from her cup as if avoiding the whole affair. “That’s- Okay, that’s a problem, but, I mean- Who’d convict you, honestly? With, with an alien in your brain? And now, now that you’re free of it? Even if it’s not the whole truth, there’s no way we can’t just ascribe it to- to something like an extraterrestrially induced psychotic break, if not outright mind control-”

Eddy grinds his teeth. There’s… an unusual edge to them. Something seems to pulsate around the edge of his gums. Rachel’s eyes widen.

“Yes, it’s someone you know! Yes, it’s all connected to Carnage! And since I, luckily for all of you, just so happen to run my own humble little publication, you won’t be spared a single detail of the whole sordid affair! I’m here to deliver exactly what you want to hear! This Wednesday-”

In one movement, Eddy raises a hand, reaches to one side, and sends his arm stretching six feet across the room, effortlessly. His fist shakes with restraint, right above the radio. After a few seconds, he exhales, opens his hand, and daintily hits the off switch. His hand drops to the floor and slowly drags itself back to him, as if on a slack line.

Once it’s there, he buries his face in his hands.

“Eddy,” she says.

He’s busy growling to himself. “The one time that lousy low-life leech gets a story with any amount of truth to it, and we handed it to him.”

“Eddy!” she says.

Eddy realises something.

He looks at his pitch black, clawed hand.

He looks up at Rachel, her face frozen in horror.

He looks back down.

“It’s alive,” he says, more to himself than her.

The darkness rolls up his arm and around his torso, too familiar, now, to still cause him any fear. Eddy stands and stumbles backwards against his chair, falls to the ground, watches it enclose him, chest heaving. As it runs up his neck, he breaks out into a wild, manic grin.

“We’re alive!” Venom bellows. They scramble to their feet, claws across the linoleum making the sound you’d associate with an overexcited dog, and perform something that looks like an attempt to jump into their own arms, landing with a thump that shakes the building. In the distance, dishes break as they roll across the floor, laughing madly.

“Oh no,” Rachel says, one hand in front of her face. “Oh, no. No no no no no.”

Venom looks back at her, mouth twitching.

“No?” 

They crawl up to her until they’re right up in her face, narrowing their eyes dangerously.

“What do you mean, no? We’re a hero!”

“Eddy…”

“You would rather have us dead than in the way?”

“Eddy! Listen to me!”

Rachel grabs their head, reminiscent of a snake of mythological proportions, lined with venomous fangs, and pushes even closer, forehead up against theirs, teeth equally bared.

“The Other’s still with you! You’re going to be asked to court! They’re going to look for it, they’re going to find it, they’re going to take it, and then we’ll be dealing with the whole super-soldier debacle all over again!”

They stare, for a second. Then they relent. The Other recedes from Eddy’s features.

“Sorry,” he says. “It gets- We get offended.”

Rachel recalls the things she’s said about it, not knowing it was listening. She lets go of them, watches them turn away, something alien and vulnerable in their body language.

“I’m… sorry, too. I’m very…” She puts one hand on top of one of their talons, squeezing. “Very grateful for what you did. It’s a good thing you’re alive. Of course it is.” And if she can still see Eddy’s eyes in the Other’s, maybe she can make an effort to see the Other’s eyes in Eddy’s, too.

He huffs. They huff? It huffs?

“Then what’ll this mean for… you know.”

Rachel blinks.

At her silence, they perform a little “you know” shoulder shimmy, point between themselves and her and make a vague noise.

She gives him an unimpressed look. “Now, Eddy?”

“I meant…” Eddy deflates. “...what’ll it mean for the alien accomplice to my crimes and heroics that I am harbouring unbeknownst to the government, of course.” 

“I should hope so.”

Rachel sighs, massaging her temples. Eddy retreats into Venom once again.

“You can’t let them arrest you like this.”

They scratch their chin, grumbling thoughtfully. “No. We’ve been rendered a fugitive. We’ll have to forsake our life in the light and keep to the shadows, with no home to speak of beyond a sense of camaraderie among the most neglected outcasts of society-”

“Why would that be your first idea?”

“It almost sounds romantic, in its own way.”

“You’ve been trying to make it out of the gutter all your life, Eddy. I’m not letting you go like that.”

That seems to catch them off-guard. They twiddle their massive thumbs.

“We were… joking, mostly. Lightening the mood.”

They sit down on the floor, cross-legged. Huge, but tiny. 

“...Thank you.”

Rachel looks down at her coffee, long-since cold. She tries not to think about it.

“Maybe… If you’d separate…”

Venom honest-to-god whines. “Not again...”

“Listen. You’d only separate for however long it takes this to blow over. You go to court, you hope our aliens-made-me-do-it defense holds for all the things you might’ve done, you come home, you take it back, you try to stay low-key. You don’t both have to hide. You can convince them it’s over.”

After a while, they look up at her with their big, milky eyes.

“Where would we go?”

Rachel inhales, long and deep.

She picks up her coffee cup, walks over to the sink and empties it.

“I’m gonna need something stronger than this,” she says.

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 25)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 

Part 26: here

“Welcome to MacDonalds Sir. Can I take your order?”

The van stops at a drive through, halfway to the hospital and his Uncle. Doom hangs over Arthur like a dense grey fog. A clock slowly counting down.

“Hey. You want anything?” The demon asks, nonchalantly rifling around in the glovebox for spare change.

Arthur’s never swum in the ocean, but he’s watched enough media to estimate and guess that this is what drowning feels like. Memories crash over him, pulling him about in waves. It’s had to keep a grip on what is current and what is past. It’s hitting him all at once. Images of Lewis falling are now mixing in with frames on Darrel’s motionless body left out in the middle of nowhere, carelessly kicked to the side of a narrow dirt road. Alone. Just like Lewis. Left behind to rot. Who knows if anyone would find him. Did Darrel have a family? Arthur can’t remember. What he does know is that it’s all his fault…and he can’t stop. Arthur needs help. He desperately needs help, but there’s no one. The only people who care are miles away and completely ignorant.

‘Why?’

The question is out before he gets the chance to clarify, his thoughts not coherent enough to manage a full sentence. There must be a reason. A point to everything. Because, if there isn’t, then there is no way that Arthur can convince this creature to stop. To leave his Uncle alone.

“Cause we’re hungry. Duh. Try not to ask dumb questions.” Arthur is dismissed, the demon turning back to order. So far, it has been quiet, exuding a calm satisfaction which is only marginally better than manic joy, ignoring Arthur’s thrashing with practised ease. This is the first time Arthur’s had the presence of mind to communicate since leaving Darrel.

At the order collection window, as the serving-girl hands over a brown and red paper bag, she points to her cheek, commenting, “Um. Sir. You have a little dirt on your face. Just there.”

“Do I?” The demon laughs good-naturedly, adjusting the rear-view mirror to reveal their reflection. Arthur looks out, unable to help himself, meeting his own gaze. Bright green eyes stare right at him. The pleasant smile shifts to become mocking. The ‘dirt’ referred to is the small flecks of Darrel’s blood, which have dried a dark brown.

“I do indeed. How embarrassing,” It chuckles, taking the bag, “Thank you for pointing that out.”

The girl smiles back, “Hey no problem. Have a good afternoon sir.”

If only she would lean further out and see the prominent blood splatter across Arthur’s front. She doesn’t. He watches powerlessly, feeling his body wave a goodbye.  

“Have to say. I love these new food options. You humans have certainly been busy this last century.”

Now. This is Arthur's opportunity to talk. He needs to use it and convince this creature to stop. It probably won’t work, if anything it’ll make everything worse, but he must try.

‘Why,’ Arthur asks a second time, pulling his focus forward.

“Why what,” The demon is deliberately obtuse, taking a bite with its free hand, steering back onto the highway with the other. Arthur would be grimacing at the taste. The last thing he wants to do is to eat greasy food. Luckily, nausea is primary a physical phenomenon, so his need to throw up is entirely associative.

‘Why are you doing this. What’s the point?’  How does he get it to stop?

The demon chews and slurps down a soda methodically like it is buying time to consider a response. More likely, it knows how anxious waiting makes Arthur.

“Because it’s fun. You know...Spread a little pain and misery. Cause trouble. Mess with the cosmic balance. You do know what fun is right?"

‘I can be plenty miserable without Uncle Lance dying.’ Arthur jumps on the connection despite how tenuous it is, ‘You’ve seen my memories! I can make anything good depressing if I want to.’

“Ha. Yeah. You do know how to screw yourself over. But, regrettably, I never leave a host alive. Personal policy. Less hassle down the line and all.”

‘He’ll be no hassle.’ Arthur lies blatantly because there was no way Lance wouldn’t try to hunt them down if given a chance, ‘Nope. No hassle at all. No one would care if I vanished right now. Especially not Lance.’

“I’m in your head, I can see you lying,” An eye roll, followed by unpleasant chuckling, “Besides, nothing beats the rush of cutting one of your pathetic lives short. All that potential. Poof. Gone.” The discordant sensation of happiness is back again, and Arthur quickly withdraws, mentally flinching away, doing his best to distance himself.

‘Someone will stop you.’  

“Who will? The dog? It’s miles away. Won’t be here till tomorrow and by then we’ll be done and dusted. I was thinking of going after Lewis’s family next. Sneak on in, in the dead of night, get em all in their sleep…”

Any further attempts at reasoning fall on deft ears. Begging is just as ineffective. All it does is inflate the awful feeling of calm satisfaction. Apprehensively, Arthur watches the demon wipe the blood off their shared face, energy well and truly spent. A grin is flashed towards the rear-view mirror which has yet to be re-adjusted. Not like this thing cares about road safety. It makes Arthur want to laugh hysterically. But he can’t. He can’t do anything.

Half an hour later, after getting waylaid by some traffic, they’re back at the hospital. All up, it’s hardly been two hours since their departure. They even park in the same spot.

Before heading inside, the demon pulls on one of Arthur’s old work shirts, which he keeps in the van for spur of the moment mechanical work. It’s got a few oil stains down the side and hasn’t seen a good wash in a while, but is inconspicuous when compared to coffee and blood splatters. Now, apart from the eyes, there is no other noticeable difference between the two of them. Nothing that screams ‘I’m a demon on a murder spree, please stop me.’ The sickly green skin Arthur had noted in his memories has faded to a natural colour.

St Peter’s Emergency Ward is as cold and sterile as he remembers. The smell of disinfectant and the return to chilled air-conditioning are equally unwelcome. Nurses, doctors and members of the public mill around, murmuring and talking in low tones. ‘Someone notice! Please,’ Arthur thinks desperately while the demon obtains directions from the reception desk. Despite Arthur’s less than clean appearance no one spares a second glance. Everyone is too busy, caught up in their work and lives, to notice his one falling apart.  

An older, matronly woman, sporting a messy bun and tired eyes, ends up leading Arthur to his Uncle’s recovery room. It’s not too far from the main entrance and is, to his dismay, empty of other patents. Space, meant for a second bed, is vacant.

Arthur, the demon- he’s having trouble separating the two -both watch the nurse check his Uncle’s IV, lowering the dosage of whatever is going into Lance’s arm. Probably a mix of pain medication and anti-inflammatories going off Arthur’s previous experience. Curiosity and interest flash between their shared mind. It is taking notes, intently watching the nurse work. Please. Turn around. Turn around and notice what a creepy monster he’s being.

When she does turn, Arthur has already stepped away, acting to part of the worried relative.

“Is he okay. Everything’s okay, right?”

“Your Uncle is recovering as per normal. He’s on a low dose of Dilaudid, to reduce pain and swelling.  It’ll make him drowsy when he regains consciousness so don’t be alarmed if he has trouble forming sentences,”

“He’ll regain consciousness? That’s good. When will that happen?” Its barely contained eagerness makes Arthur want to cry in dismay.  

“Another hour or two,” The woman gives him a perplexed sideward glance. If she does notice anything strange, it isn’t mentioned. “I’ll have a doctor come by and give you a proper run down and better details shortly.”

“Good. Good. That’s very good. Thank you for letting me know,”

A nod. A kind expression. She moves to away, passing by, leaving Arthur alone. She leaves the demon alone with his Uncle unconscious, helpless in the bed. Eagerly, the demon piolets his body forward, scanning the empty room, eyes landing briefly on the solitary clock decorating the otherwise sparse walls. 4: 59. Tick. Tick. Tick. An audible reminder that Arthur is running out of time. A hand reaches into his pocket to fiddle with Arthur’s keys and the small knife attached. Both are crusted with dry blood which crumbles when touched. They clink together threateningly.

‘What do I have to do to get you to stop. You have to want something. Anything.’

“Sure, I do. It’s just nothing you can give .” Nonchalantly, it approaches the bed, finally acknowledging Arthur's presence.

‘Don’t demons collect souls?’ He asks with increasing desperation. Can he give this thing his soul? Was that something he could do?

“Some. I don’t. I think you’ll find that ‘demon’ is a very broad term, covering a wide range of individuals. Besides, your soul is super screwy. Whatever’s shoved it back in here has bound it in tight, so I’d probably have to rip it up to get it free, rendering the activity pointless. So, no deal…But thanks for the offer. I’m flattered.”

‘Please. Stop. I’ll do anything!’

Does he really have nothing? No way to save his Uncle. The only member of his whole freakin family who gave a damn and he can’t even save him. Useless. Why does he fail in all the ways that matter most?

“Oh, don’t mope. Just think, once we finish up here, you’ll never have to worry about failing anybody ever again. No lying. No stress. Doesn’t that sound nice.”

It doesn’t sound nice. It’s the opposite of nice!

The demon drags over the one visitor's chair, which squeaks along the lino flooring, slumping down to stare at his uncle, waiting. It fingers the IV tubing, tracing the piping up to the control dial and back again. Deliberately, it pinches the thin tube shut, attention jumping back to Lance, scanning for any changes.

Waiting.

The waiting is terrible. Especially, when Arthur can feel its attention, partially giddy, laser-focused onto his Uncle. Arthur’s never seen the man look so pale or sickly. Apart from the odd work-related accident, which is impossible to avoid even with strict safety standards, his Uncle has always been healthy. Even the rare times he has seen the man sick it was still ‘no big deal,’ ‘just a scratch,’ or ‘the bodies way of forcing me ta rest.’ While Arthur flip-flopped from one emotional extreme to the next, his Uncle had been a steady, seemingly indestructible, pillar of support. Arthur had never said thank you for any of that. Worse, he’d repaid all that kindness with lies and evasion. Lance should have never taken him in. He had been more trouble than it was worth in his original timeline and he’s definitely not worth it now.

“Hey. HEY!” The demon grows tired of the waiting and gives his Uncle a light slap on the cheek with its free hand, “Wake up.”

“Arthur?” The word is half muttered, barely audible. Lance is phasing into consciousness slowly.  

‘Just say asleep. Stay asleep a little longer. Someone has to come in and stop him. Please.’

“In a manner of speaking. Yeah. I’m Arthur.”

That gets his Uncle’s attention. Lance violently twitches, forcing an eye open. It locks onto him, hazy but critical. Despite being in obvious pain a hand flashes out, snapping onto to Arthur’s wrist, pulling the hand away from his face. The grip is firm abet weaker than Arthur’s expecting.

“Whoa, you might want to take it easily Uncle Lance. Wouldn’t want to pull any stitches. You were stabbed five times you know.”

“You,” His Uncle growls hatefully, eyes narrowing, “Get out of Arthur ya fuckin, slimy piece of shit, bastard.”

“That’s some strong language. And in front of your nephew. He’s watching you know,”

A loose flick and the demon frees its wrist, efficiently shoving his Uncle back down when he attempts to lunge outwards. The hash action causes Lance to grunt in obvious pain. A move towards the emergency call remote has the demon snatching it up and placing it on the small table just out of reach, tutting in disappointment.

“I’ll get ya. Mark my words…You’ll regret this,” His Uncle spits, his attempts at sitting foiled.  His face is pure revulsion and fury. That determination and fire is something Arthur’s never seen directed his way before. It’s all in vain. Nothing matters. Not anymore.

A teasing, “How? You can’t even move. Soon you’ll never move again.” The demon releases its hold on the IV and turns the control dial up to its max setting. Dismayed, Arthur watches the drug take quick effect, rapidly dulling his Uncle’s movements. Eventually, Lance just lies still and glares, even while his eyes are dropping shut.

“Don’t worry about your nephew. He’ll be safe with me. Since you care so much and all.” The glare faulters much to the demon’s renewed glee. The predatory buzz is back, coiled alongside a sensation of anticipation and pleasure.

“Arthur.” His Uncle’s voice loses its heat, softening. He’s struggling to stay conscience, drowsy, eyes shutting.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please. Stop. Please. PLEASE.’

A knife is produced after a small struggle. The hinge, which usually allowed it to flip cleanly open, is stiff, jammed with blood. The key ring makes a clinking sound, hitting the side of the metal bed frame. Tap. Tap. Tap. It echoes through the room in time with the ticking clock.

“Now. How do we go about this in a way that won’t immediately alert the plebs?”

‘NONONONO!’

“Kindy slow bleed? Good choice.”

“Nighty night,” It stands upright. The chair squeaks. Blankets and paper thin robe are pulled aside in an energetic flourish, revealing the assortment of bandages covering his Uncle’s chest and side. A second is spent in meticulous calculation. The knife is carefully positioned and thrust in. The demon waits for a beat before pushing forward against any resistance, twisting, then drawing out. Cold satisfaction. His Uncle’s fingers catch on Arthur’s retreating arm. This time, there is no strength behind the grasp, and it’s easily shrugged off.

“Not….You…r… Fa..ul…t...” The words are mumbled and slurred, swallowed up by the silent room. The clock on the wall ticks.

“Eh. Suppose we’ll look a bit suspicious if we stick around.”  

The blanket is tossed back into place, covering the reopened wound. They turn, strolling towards the door, practically skipping back down to the reception. Arthur can feel himself splitting, joy mixing in with panic and grief.

Just like his life, he’s falling to pieces. 

NOTE: re-writes, re-writes for days. But finally got a version I’m mostly happy with. I’m hoping to have the next section out within a shorter time frame so people aren't stuck on the cliff hanger but no promises.

Part 26: here

[bahannah01writes]

A Smile Brighter Than Diamonds

 Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Jewelry Store AU, mild angsty for a moment, mainly shy sweet fluff ^^

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: There are many things that can catch one’s eyes in a jewelry store and yet from the very moment that he walked in, your eyes were locked onto him.

I was going to make this two parts but thennnn nah it’s just gonna be long haha I hope you all enjoy!!

      Jewelry stores are never lacking when it comes to stories.

      As a worker at one yourself, you know that to be a simple fact. The moment a person walks in, you have to prepare yourself for whatever emotional express train they’re riding. You’ve seen… quite a lot, to say the least. There are the usual smitten sweethearts who are looking for something shiny for their significant other- they’re usually wonderful to work for. The more unpleasant people are the ones that think you actually make the jewelry in the back and can make anything they could imagine. When you tell them otherwise, they end up being offended which is... fun. There’s also the people who want to try on everything and say they’ll totally be back for a certain piece… You’ve stopped expecting them to be back anymore.

      One of your favorite memories though was the day that a woman flung the doors opened and marched in, she was a storm of ferocity. Steps that shook the ground and the lightning in her eyes held a rage unparalleled. Thunder left her lips as she, tried, to calmly ask for a refund on the shiny stone wrapped around her finger. After telling her very gently that after so many months you would not be able to accept it, her jaw clenched. She then left, but not without some advice.

      “Before you say yes, make sure you’re the only one your man is asking.”

      So yes, working at a jewelry store has been an interesting adventure so far.

      You expect nothing less coming in today, either. The key ring in your hand jingles as you walk behind the counter, briefly reminding you of your dear dog at home. His memory brings a smile to your lips and you feel ready for whatever is to come.

      Hours pass and while there were one or two annoying customers, you’ve mainly had the smitten sweethearts to deal with. Their positive energy and sappy tales remind you why you love working at a jewelry store, even if it occasionally leaves you with lonely heart syndrome. As you wave off your last customer with a smile, you place the jewelry rack back into the display case, locking it up once closed.

      When your head pops back up over the counter, you find a new face in your shop. Dark brown eyes gaze at the shining jewels and with a curious head tilt, his peach-colored locks sway ever so slightly. When he turns to you, he offers a boxy smile and a little wave.

      You realize that out of everything in this store, he’s what shines the brightest.

      Blinking, you try to shake yourself out of the temporary daze you fell into. You return his smile and walk over to the display case he stands before and get ready to go through the motions despite your heart nearly jumping out of your chest.

        After all... he’s probably here for his girlfriend.

       “Hello, sir! Is there anything I can help you with or are you just looking for today?”

      His tongue peeks out as he thinks and he begins to nod, “Yes… Do you have zircon or tanzanite jewelry?”

      You would be lying if you said his deep voice didn’t surprise you.

      You would also be lying if you said it didn’t make him even cuter.

      How is it that this man has only said six words to you and you’re already whipped for him?

      Once again, you have to shake yourself out of your thoughts with a light laugh, “We do, they’re right over here. Are you interested in rings, necklaces, earrings..?”

      Feet make their way over towards the gemstone section and stop once you’re in front of zircon. He follows and it almost seems as if his eyes rest on you rather than the jewels. You try to push aside your less than professional thoughts as a wave of heat rises on your cheeks.

      Peaches, as you’ll refer to him as until you learn his name, shrugs and rubs the back of his neck, “I don’t really know… But, I think she would like a necklace the most.”

      The ping of pain in your chest causes your smile to falter ever so slightly. But, you know you have to keep a smile on for him, for the customer.

      Swallowing your pride, you put on a smile and do your job, “Necklaces are great! Every lady loves them and I’m sure that the lucky lady who receives one from you, is going to love it no matter what.”

      Peaches’ dark eyes flicker back and forth between your own and the display case, he opens his mouth once and then closes it. WIth an airy chuckle he nods, “Thank you, I hope so.” You feel your smile brighten and you hum happily in response.

      A calm silence envelopes the two of you as he examines the pieces. You watch as the corners of his lips turn up into a smile and you know he’s found one he likes.

      His finger meets with the glass, eyes shining with admiration, “Can I see that one?”

      “Of course! I’ll take it out for you.”

      Keys clink together as you unlock the case and reach in to pick up the desired necklace and placing it on the counter. Peaches really did choose a beautiful piece. The baby blue zircon shines under the white lights in a C- shape outlined by a rose gold crescent moon, it’s as if the stars met the moon. You couldn’t help but sigh in awe.

      You gently hold the necklace up with one hand and rest the crescent pendant in the palm of the other, showing it to Peaches. A light laugh escapes your lips, “I know I may be a little biased since I’m supposed to sell it to you but, this piece really is breathtaking. I have no doubt that she’ll love this.”

      He chuckles at your little confession and nods, his kind eyes meeting your own once again, “You think so?”

      “I know so.”

      With that reassurance, he decides to buy it. A few more words were shared as a joyful but calm air surrounds you two.

      “Have a good day, sir!”

      Peaches smiles in your direction once again and gives one last wave, “You too and again, thank you!”

     You watch him leave with a dreamy smile and practical heart-eyes. You don’t think you could ever forget that smooth-like-honey deep voice or that adorably unique boxy smile of his.

     Luckily for you, you wouldn’t get the chance to anyway.

      In the following weeks, Peaches became your top costumer. He also became not Peaches- well, only because you learned that his name was Taehyung. The more he came, the more you got to know him and this nameless, but lucky, woman he was buying all this jewelry for. The first time he returned to the store, Taehyung was beaming- he joyfully reported that this “she” absolutely adored the necklace and he wanted your recommendation for what could match it. After that, you two found yourselves in an odd partnership of sorts.

      Basically, you’re his bejeweled wingwoman.

      Is it the relationship you want with him? No, especially with how each of his visits makes you realize how truly amazing this man is through and through. But is this the relationship you’ll have for him? Yes… because he’s far too sweet and this woman he comes here for, whenever he talks of her, his eyes light up and he is only full of love for her.

      ...

      You really need a night full of ice cream and movies to get over this one.

      The chime of the bell at the front brings you back to reality. An automatic smile set on your lips, ready to be the cheery salesperson you’re supposed to be. “Welcome! How can I help you?”

      “I’m back-!”

      A shake of your head is paired with a giggle as you turn to see the man who occupies your thoughts before you, “Afternoon, Tae. What can I help you with today?”

      His long legs make strides over towards you and then stop with a soft bounce. You’re greeted with his usual boxy smile which automatically turns your sales smile into a genuine one. Large hands rest on the display case and he leans over, if only a bit, “I was wondering if you could help me pick out a watch?”

      “For yourself or..?”

      “Myself!”

       Eyebrows raise and you clap out of excitement, “Oh, that’s new!”

      A bashful chuckle echoes out with your reaction, dark eyes averting their gaze and settling on the floor. Realizing that you may have accidentally embarrassed the poor boy, you move on. A quick tilt of your head motions for him to follow as you head towards the proper case, “I have some that you may like, is there a certain style or brand-”

      “Gucci, I really like Gucci,” he expresses in a quiet yet excited voice, the happiness in his words reaching his eyes.

      Is it possible for someone’s voice to make your entire being at peace? He feels like a Siren that continues to pull you into waters dreaded, it’s almost unfair how much of an effect his mere voice has on you.

      Nevertheless, you bring him to the Gucci watches and already start looking through the millions of keys on the ring for the right one. You hear him hum in thought as his eyes scan the watches, “Do you want to go for fun or classy?”

      With only one look he tells you he’s looking for fun.

      You laugh lightly and nod, “Understood.” Glancing over the display case you find your favorite candidate, “What do you think of the bee one?”

      The watch is a fairly unique one and, in your opinion at least, spells fun a lot more than the others. A light brown leather brace holds it all together and the clock itself has golden rims. Its face was tricolored- three stripes in the back, going green, red, green and a yellow silhouette of a bee lies in the middle where two golden hands reach from the center to tell time. Overall, it’s definitely an interesting and beautiful piece in its own way.

      His expression seems to mirror your thoughts and with an affirming nod, you go to take it out and show it to him, “May I see your wrist?” Seemingly without any hesitation, he offers it and you work to secure the accessory to his wrist. However, you continue to hold his hand mindlessly and gently rub your thumb against the back of his hand, “Do you like it?”

      While his eyes briefly shifted to his wrist, they linger when they look into your eyes.

      “Yeah, I like it a lot.”

      A sudden pounding starts in your chest and for some reason, you can’t find it in yourself to break his gaze. The words sneak from your lips, never once asking your brain for permission, “I think I like it a lot, too.”

      It’s as if a ray of sunshine is beaming back at you after your response and you fully melt under its warmth.

      His mouth opens and as words begin to fall from his lips, a bell chimes in once again and breaks the moment.

      Doing your best to refrain from sighing, you pull yourself away from this light and avert your eyes.

      His light isn’t for you, after all.

      “I’ll be right back, Taehyung,” your words lay flat in the air and you once again plaster a smile on your expression and head towards the new customer as you say your usual greeting. As you discuss with your new sale, an older gentleman curious about a certain upcoming LeVian collection piece for his wife, you see a slumped over Taehyung in one of the few chairs at the store. His peach-hair covering his expression while he inspects the watch that’s still wrapped around his wrist.

      Why does it seem like all that light was suddenly put out?

      A few minutes passed with a new number and name to make a note of, you briskly walk over to the desk are and do so on a sticky note. Little colorful wrappers catch your eye and you bring one over to your suddenly solemn Peaches. “Want a lollipop, Tae? As an, ‘I’m sorry I had to deal with a customer’ apology?”

      Peach locks bounce as his head turns over to you, attempting to bite back a smile. The watch donned wrist reaches and retrieves the sweet treat from your hand, “It’s alright, I guess.”

      “Good, I know you’re not used to sharing your (Y/n) time with someone else, so thank you for being patient while I do my job.”

      Your light teasing got his facade to break as your favorite laugh leaves his lips, hands covering his flustered face.

      Once he calms down, he gets back up and stands before you at the counter with a soft smile, “Would I be able to buy this watch, ma’am?”

      “Absolutely, sir. Allow me to take it off and I’ll ring you up.”

      He holds his wrist out and with this playful professional act the last thing you suspect is his hand taking hold of yours, “Ma’am?”

      And all of a sudden, it’s like he’s holding your heart in his hands too.

      “Yes, sir?”

      “Would I be able to buy you dinner, as well?”

      Your mind blanks.

      No.

      No-!

      You snatch your hand from his and hold it over your racing and conflicting heart, eyebrows knitted together as you look at the man before you with emotions you can’t place, “Tae, I literally help you pick out jewelry for your girlfriend-”

      “Girlfriend? No, (Y/n)-”

      “How could you ask me that? I’m not like that and, and I didn’t think you were like that-!”

       His eyes widen as he shakes his hands defensively, “No, no, I don’t-”

      “Don’t what, Tae? You can’t just, play with someone like this! For my sake or your girl-”

      Large hands envelop your own and with the action temporarily cutting you off and gaining your attention, Taehyung looks desperately into your eyes, “I don’t have a girlfriend, (Y/n).”

      Your mouth fumbles over your words as his resonate in your mind, “You… what? Then who were you-”

      “My mom,” he laughs sweetly, “Most of what I’ve been getting her has been birthstone jewelry, right?” A wordless nod from you is all he needs to know to continue, “Zircon is mine while the others were my siblings. It’s only stuff to help her feel closer to us. Plus, sometimes I would kind of just come in to see you and end up buying something because I didn’t want to seem too obvious.”

      A now bashful but very amused Taehyung waits for you to register all he’s told you and the more you think, the more sense it made and the more foolish you feel for not realizing it sooner. After all, he never did buy heart jewelry.

      “Oh wow, I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” You laugh your embarrassment away and feel fingers intertwine with your own.

      “Depends, would that idiot still be interested in dinner?”

      Eyes look up to meet with his own and as you finally feel welcomed into his warmth, you let yourself be fully enveloped by it.

      “She would definitely be interested in dinner, Tae.”

x x x 

Second BTS fic! Hopefully it went well and you guys enjoyed it! Feel free to send me anything you guys would like to see me write :) 

[lillianhillard-blog]

➤ “BarxBuddy Canada Reviews” !! ➤BarxBuddy Canada Reviews!! ➤Facts & Dog Device..➤

It's the season to begin pondering your Christmas shopping! Are you wanting to feel like jaunty old St. Scratch on Christmas day? Finding the ideal present can be unpleasant, particularly when your blessing purchasing cerebrum is altogether spent and your spending limit doesn't take into consideration those first-class purchases. Dread not. BarxBuddy Canada The accompanying rundown of magnificently extraordinary contraptions offers a touch of something for everybody on your "Decent List." And the best piece of every single, huge numbers of these things are more moderate than you may might suspect. Look at them!

BarxBuddy Canada!

BarxBuddy Canada Translator is a leap forward tech gadget that permits discourse in more than 40 unique dialects to be deciphered continuously. In the event that you are living in or going in a nation where you don't communicate in the local language, at that point Muama Translator will be your new closest companion!

BarxBuddy Canada Translator causes it workable for individuals who to don't communicate in a similar language to effectively associate and speak with each other in manners that have at no other time been conceivable. Explorers, volunteers, medicinal services laborers, social specialists, crisis laborers and various different kinds of individuals are for the most part profiting by Translator. You can make the most of its advantages as well!

BarxBuddy Canada

Who hates being on the web? Gushing motion pictures, messing around, enjoying feline recordings… Unfortunately, if your home experiences a poor Wi-Fi association, there's unpleasant to be had. The uplifting news is you don't need to be an IT virtuoso to fix your home Wi-Fi. Give the endowment of web opportunity. BarxBuddy Canada is a conservative gadget that plugs into any divider outlet to twofold the current sign. Expand web inclusion and make those dead spots wake up this Christmas season.

BarxBuddy Canada

Music sweethearts wherever want accommodation and compactness. In addition to the fact that people want to tune in to their tunes at whatever point they need, yet they need to look great doing it. BarxBuddy Canada remote earbuds are a reasonable method to kick out the jams in style. Obviously, it doesn't mean a lot if the sound isn't great. Luckily, BarxBuddy Canada conveys the sound you need utilizing the most recent Bluetooth innovation. I'm certain anybody with a PDA and an affection for music couldn't imagine anything better than to discover a couple of these in their legging!

BarxBuddy Canada

Is there anybody on your blessing list that requirements assist backing with increasing the photos on their PC? Think mother, father, grandmother, and so forth do yourself (and them) some help and get them a BarxBuddy Canada this year.

Everything you do is plug it in to a USB port, click "go", and BarxBuddy Canada consequently finds and backs up their photos. That is it – no "finding the correct organizer". No "off-base catalog". No issues. It deals with both PC's and Macs, and it can set aside to 60,000 photographs.

It's about more or less simple. Furthermore, trust us, your loved ones will adore the reality you got them this whenever an infection executes their PC and they lose everything. You'll have made all the difference by sparing their photographs. Yippee you!! BarxBuddy Canada

BarxBuddy Canada

BarxBuddy Canada transforms any household item into a remote charger! The Qi-controlled charging base can be mounted underneath any tabletop surface, making a messiness free charging station with no noticeable wires. This shiny new remote charger lets your charge quicker and all the more effectively. With long-extend remote innovation, you can control up your advanced cell and different remote gadgets on the fly, without being backed off by awkward links and charging cushions.

BarxBuddy Canada

Try not to let the little size simpleton you – BarxBuddy Canada can deal with up to 14 keys, which is sufficient for pretty much anybody. They safely attach in, and crease inwards (much like a folding knife). At that point they are anything but difficult to unfurl and utilize, and never get free. Your loved ones will adore this.

More? Alright – you can include alternatives like a container opener and a USB drive. That makes this a super-cool (and absolutely interesting) blessing.

BarxBuddy Canada

Progressive new carbon based cleaner is so sheltered and successful that NASA really utilizes it on the International Space Station – OVER 650,000 previously sold and tallying!

It's called BarxBuddy Canada and it makes cleaning with clothes and fluids appear to be so silly at this point. That is on the grounds that not at all like regular screen cleaners that generally smear and smirch, BarxBuddy Canada has a protected Carbon Molecular Cleaning Technology that ATTRACTS, GRABS, and REMOVES soil, oils and fingerprints.

BarxBuddy Canada

BarxBuddy Canada insoles can mitigate you of incessant torment, enabling you to begin carrying on with a progressively dynamic, autonomous way of life.

Basically add BarxBuddy Canada to your shoes and appreciate the solace of torment free feet!

BarxBuddy Canada will rub your feet by animating the weight focuses situated on the bottoms of your feet.

BarxBuddy Canada

Detest discarding those things that "can't be fixed"? Tired of sitting around idly and cash on modest arrangements that keep your fingers remained together more than the thing you're attempting to fix? Sounds like you need BarxBuddy Canada! With BarxBuddy Canada, you can fix for all intents and purposes ANYTHING! Broken glasses? Fixed. Flawed pipes gaps? Fixed. Broken dishes? Not any longer! Just apply BarxBuddy Canada's exceptional fluid plastic recipe to the thing you need fixed, sparkle the uncommon UV light on it for just 4 SECONDS, and you're DONE! BarxBuddy Canada is intended to keep going forever! Guaranteeing you get an enduring hold – which implies once you fix it, it's really FIXED! BarxBuddy Canada deals with any surface, including metal, wood, glass, earthenware production, plastic and the sky is the limit from there. Also, it is anything but a paste, so it won't dry out or get clingy and muddled! Quit discarding broken things, and allow them a second existence with BarxBuddy Canada.

BarxBuddy Canada

BarxBuddy Canada

and in the event that you have an old, slow PC, it's actually what you've been hanging tight for. BarxBuddy Canada is a little thumb drive you basically plug into your PC's USB port and it quickly sidesteps your current working framework and burdens a component rich Linux OS – making your old PC run like new.

BarxBuddy Canada

Nail scissors unquestionably aren't the most modern contraption on this rundown, however for any individual who deals with a friend or family member, the BarxBuddy Canada is an ideal development. This gadget was made by a doctor to improve cutting individuals' fingernails and toenails. The ergonomic handle includes a one of a kind swivel cutting edge for improved control. The plan guarantees protected, precise, and steady cutting with negligible exertion. Individuals with joint inflammation, incessant muscle torment in their grasp, or generally restricted versatility will welcome this preparing instrument.

BarxBuddy Canada

The finish of wheezing is here! Get a decent evenings rest lastly feel rested. BarxBuddy Canada is a silicone ring that is set into the nose and decreases wheezing the absolute first time it is utilized. The best part is that no jaw lashes are required! The silicone ring is delicate, won't drop out, and will easily extend the nostrils to enable air to stream. Also, at this moment you can get yours with a half markdown and free dispatching!

BarxBuddy Canada

This double reason gadget makes evening time restroom route simple without waking yourself or others, and its implicit replaceable deodorizer drives you to an incredible smelling desert spring – destroying frightful washroom scents and keeping your washroom smelling new 24 hours, 7 days per week! BarxBuddy Canada

You can choose from 13 dynamic LED hues or utilize the Color-Carousel mode, so you'll not just hit your imprint every single time, yet you'll likewise make the most of your own special amazing light show all the while!

It even has propelled movement location and will BarxBuddy Canada transform on when you stroll into the restroom and mood killer when you leave. No big surprise the world's most cutting edge can light is selling like there's no tomorrow.

BarxBuddy Canada

Is Constant Noise Driving You Crazy? Clamor is EVERYWHERE these days. Bistros, eateries, games, out and about, even in your own home! It's so awful in certain spots that individuals can't get a decent night's rest!

Fortunately, help has shown up! BarxBuddy Canada are the progressive new NOISE-BarxBuddy Canada ear buds that will totally BLOCK OUT those irritating sounds that can overpower your faculties!

BarxBuddy Canada

Envision having the option to check your basic wellbeing factors like instinctive fat, BMI, hydration level and that's only the tip of the iceberg! With BarxBuddy Canada, presently you can. Simply step on the keen scale and the licensed BIA innovation conveys 17 estimations about your body and wellbeing progressively!

So natural and moderate, BarxBuddy Canada is not normal for anything you've at any point seen or experience. Simply step on the scale and the outcomes are conveyed right to your telephone! The protected and exclusive gear is so compelling and precise that it's utilized by driving doctors and nutritionists!BarxBuddy Canada is notable innovation you need to see to accept! The first occasion when you use it you'll be overwhelmed – ensured! BarxBuddy Canada + - Patented BarxBuddy Canada Technology Makes This Portable Charger A MUST HAVE!Have you at any point ended up with a telephone that has 10% battery life and

[theprogressofspring]

Why did Voldemort force Peter to move in with Snape?

Long ago, I said my next piece would be about why Peter went back to Voldemort. HOWEVER there has been some recent interest from readers regarding the subject of Snape and Peter living together, and I’m grateful for the encouragement and for the reminder! It’s been a while since I’ve added a new essay to the bunch, and I admit that this is one of the periods of Peter’s life (not to mention a plot of Voldemort’s) that I find especially fascinating.

Voldemort’s decision to place Peter at Spinner’s End likely happened immediately after the events at the Little Hangleton graveyard in Goblet of Fire: Voldemort has a body now. He no longer requires full-time care, nor would he want to remind his followers that he ever needed it—it wouldn’t do to have Peter remain by his side. Plus, all this one-on-one time and physical/magical reliance has given Peter an unusual amount of knowledge about Voldemort, and perhaps the knowledge has made Peter…overly familiar. So, Voldemort removes Peter to Spinner’s End, and likely moves back into the Riddle House in Little Hangleton by himself.*

*Between the World Cup and Triwizard Tournament, Voldemort and Peter were living at Barty Crouch Sr’s home, which has now been compromised due to Barty Jr’s arrest. Voldemort doesn’t move into Malfoy Manor until right before Deathly Hallows begins.

Therefore, Peter is out of a job. I expect that Peter—with his fancy silver hand and Voldemort’s apparent gratitude—thought that he would now take his place at the Adult Table with the rest of the still-loyal first-tier Death Eaters that showed up at Little Hangleton when Voldemort called them. But…no.

Instead, Voldemort removes Peter from the Inner Circle, where all the action is happening and the plans are being made, and places him not only in Snape’s company, but in Snape’s own house, and therefore—it could be argued—under Snape’s authority. 

Snape is, admittedly, not in the most secure position among the Death Eaters and Voldemort. He’s only just reemerged after living in essentially Dumbledore’s lap for the last 15 years. But he has over a decade of information that is valuable to Voldemort, and Voldemort isn’t foolish enough to disregard that, even if he doesn’t fully trust Snape (yet).

I suspect Voldemort placed Snape and Peter together for a couple reasons:

1. to have them spy on each other;

2. to get Peter out of his hair (or lack thereof), but not out of his orbit;

3. to stir shit.

Voldemort doesn’t fully trust Snape yet—he needs to hear some of that alleged Dumbledore/Order information first—and he’s never seen Peter operating as a full-time Death Eater**; there’s plenty of reason to believe that Peter might try to make a run for it.

**Unlike some, I don’t believe Peter was a fully Marked Death Eater until after Voldemort regained a body. I don’t think he was involved with/loyal to Voldemort at all during the First War—he spilled the beans to save his own life, not out of loyalty to or love of evil.

It kills two birds with one stone to give these men the task of checking up on each other—it fosters competition, and it doesn’t require any extra manpower. Each takes care of the other.

There’s a sort of apocryphal legend about Pharoahs and their tombs. I’m not sure how true it is, but it illustrates my next point well. When a Pharoah—along with an architect—designed and built his tomb, he wanted to ensure that his was the largest, grandest, and most spectacular tomb that had ever come before or after. So, when the Pharoah died, the architect might be killed and placed in the tomb with the Pharoah. This way, the royal architect would never be able to improve upon that which he had made, and never share the secrets of the Pharoah’s tomb with anyone else.

This is the principle upon which Voldemort is working with regards to removing Peter from his side and his confidence. Peter, frankly, knows too much. He was Voldemort’s sole confidant for nearly a year.

It is EXTREMELY likely that Peter is the only Death Eater who is clearly aware that Voldemort has not only one Horcrux, but several.^ Peter likely knows how Horcruxes are made and was almost certainly there when Nagini was made into one. He has seen Voldemort at his most vulnerable as well as at his most evil. Peter has proven himself not only a competent wizard, but an extraordinary one. Not to mention a dogged survivor!

^Snape doesn’t become aware of this until Dumbledore shows up with a rotting hand and the Peverell ring between OotP and HBP.

Peter’s not worth killing, either. A man who is willing to do anything to live is a valuable tool for someone like Lord Voldemort. Peter has proven that he’s willing to do the dirty work. (Bertha Jorkins, for example.)^^

^^In this way, Peter:Voldemort::Snape:Dumbledore. It’s a delicious and compelling parallel that lends itself beautifully to this circumstance.

Besides, Voldemort created his own insurance in the form of the silver hand, which seems to be programmed to kill Peter should he show an inclination to disobey Voldemort. Regarding the circumstances of Peter’s death as a consequence of sparing Harry’s life, there’s some confusion regarding the Life Debt business, but both the text and Pottermore heavily imply (or claim outright) that Peter did indeed show Harry a moment of mercy†, and the hand turned on him and strangled him to death as punishment for that mercy.

†The canon text grants this only grudgingly—Peter himself seems surprised to have done it, which muddies the waters a bit re: the hand and its motives/purpose.

Now, to my third point:

Almost nobody would argue with the idea that Voldemort is a raging drama queen. So when I say Voldemort was absolutely stirring shit by putting Snape and Peter under the same roof, you shouldn’t find it at all surprising.

It’s not just the fact that Peter ran with the two boys that made Snape’s life a living hell for almost a decade (and contributed to that hell, I’m sure, in his own right), not to mention with the werewolf who nearly—through no fault of Remus’s own—killed Snape. By the time Goblet of Fire ends, Snape is well aware that for all of his other awful and infuriating personality traits, Sirius is indeed innocent of betraying the Potters. Which can mean only one thing:

Snape knows that Peter Pettigrew is the one responsible for Lily’s death.

Snape’s feelings for and relationship to Lily were not a secret, especially to Voldemort (since Snape asked him to spare Lily’s life) and to the people Snape went to school with—especially James, who was fixated on and jealous of Snape and Lily’s friendship. Peter would, of course, be aware. I have no doubt that Peter immediately realized the position he was being put in when Voldemort ordered him to live with Snape in Spinner’s End, and I’m sure he was quite rightly nervous.

Isn’t that a delightful little mindfuck move on Voldemort’s part? Putting Snape and Peter together in time-out is a very practical punishment. He puts Snape with his childhood tormentor and the one who got the woman he loved killed, as punishment for perceived abandonment. And naturally Voldemort would be aware that Snape would hate and resent Peter because of their shared childhood and because of Lily; so what a fitting punishment for Peter, who is a man terrified that his past will catch up to him. All because he dared to witness Voldemort at his weakest. (Voldemort is SO petty, you guys.) And it dovetails so nicely with the primary reasons for placing them together: both Snape and Peter will be on edge, each desperate to prove his own loyalties as well as extra sensitive to any flaw in his roommate’s.

But Snape can’t let on that Lily’s death bothers him, nor murder Peter and risk outing himself as disloyal to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. What Snape can do, however, is make Peter’s time in Spinner’s End unpleasant and irritating. And the chapter Spinner’s End establishes exactly that: Snape treats Peter like a servant, and—as he does to Bellatrix—likely lords his own usefulness to Voldemort (and therefore, his arguably larger worth to him) over Peter’s head in the process.

And Peter can’t fight back. He’s not an idiot—he’s the kind of guy who knows when he knows too much. As to why he puts up with Snape treating him like shit, on one hand, I’m sure Peter is aware he deserves it (and besides, it’s only a couple months until Hogwarts is back in session). On the other, it’s not going to help him one whit to go complaining to Voldemort. As Peter’s been excused from the field of duty (and would frankly be too conspicuous‡), he can’t do anything to earn a reward, and unless he has rock-hard evidence that Snape is a traitor to Voldemort, Peter knows he’s stuck where he is. Which is exactly why he puts so much effort into spying on Snape in the hopes of catching him out and taking the opportunity to restore himself in Voldemort’s good graces. (Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Voldemort suggested that was a Very Important Job and the only way for Peter to make his way back to the Adult Table.)

‡Sirius parallel!

Unfortunately, we only get a tiny glimpse into the life that Snape and Peter had made! There’s a massive well of tantalizing possibilities here regarding their interactions in Spinner’s End—how do you think it went? (I have a pet theory that they ended up tolerating each other quite well—they’re both DEEPLY lonely men with a great deal of shared history and references. I think there’s a lot about each other that they understand, which can, of course, be repulsive in this instance, but when it comes to a roommate, sometimes you also have to get on with it and cook a shared dinner and chat about the day’s events.)

I always love hearing your reactions, questions, and observations on these essays—please do keep them coming! If you like this, check out the rest of my Peter collection here.

[lavenderprose]

Here’s the beginning of a fic I’ve been sitting on for a few months?? Hopefully getting a little feedback will jumpstart my stupid lizard brain into doing something

--

On a blustery morning in mid-September, a dog shows up on Yuuri’s front porch.

Yuuri, who’s in a bit of a hurry to get to town because he promised Phichit that he would help at the shop today, is struck momentarily motionless at the sight of a large silver-beige poodle sitting on his front porch, grinning up a storm and panting large plooms of condensation into the chilly morning air.

When his limbs recall their functions after several long beats, Yuuri steps down off the doorway ledge and onto the porch, cautious even though the dog looks like nothing would please them more than Yuuri coming closer. He glances up and down the road, looking for an owner. Yuuri’s house is set back about a hundred yards from the road, but he can still see it through the branches of the trees. There is nothing and nobody on the road. It’s just Yuuri and a poodle, alone in the cold air and odd stillness of a northern Michigan autumn morning.

Until Vicchan nudges up against the back of Yuuri’s legs and sets to whining, either at the sight of the other dog or at the fact that Yuuri is blocking his access to the yard.

“Shush,” he says to Vicchan, who subsides. He turns back to the other dog, still panting and still regarding Yuuri with large, friendly black eyes. Yuuri steps a little closer.

“Hi, puppy,” he says, kneeling slowly down to eye-level with the poodle. “Who’re you?” The dog lunges forward to try and lick Yuuri’s face; Yuuri laughs and fends him off, gets hold of his collar and reads the tags. Vicchan steps onto the porch and busily sets about sniffing the other dog’s butt.

“Makkachin, huh?” he says, turning the simple bone-shaped nametag in his hands. The reverse side of the tag gives an address, which is only one number off from Yuuri’s on the same road. Yuuri, who had sort of anticipated the dog belonging to a neighbor, isn’t surprised. He pats Makkachin’s head and then, because the name doesn’t really indicate a gender, at least not one that Yuuri can discern, he takes a glance underneath the dog. Makkachin stays still for the indignity, and Vicchan prances back and forth through the open door, unsure what to do with himself.

Makkachin, it turns out, is a girl.

“Alright, let’s get you back home.” Yuuri stands up and clicks his tongue, mostly to attract the attention of Vicchan. He comes barreling back out onto the porch, and Yuuri closes and locks the door. Vicchan rampages towards the car, barking his joy. Makkachin stays put and gazes up at Yuuri, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. Yuuri, who’s noticing now the amount of gray that Makkachin has on her muzzle, takes a step towards the porch steps and pats his leg. With that visual cue, Makkachin hops to it, following along behind Yuuri and Vicchan down the driveway.

Yuuri’s car is a pickup, which is one of only a few types of cars that one can drive with any sense of security through northern Michigan winters. Yuuri spent one awful, terrifying winter after college driving his ’05 Toyota Corolla through foot-high snowdrifts, white knuckling the steering wheel the whole way. In March of that year, he got on the internet and googled best cars for snow, clicked the first result, and went and bought himself a black standard cab pickup. It’s not the kind of car he ever really saw himself driving, and he thinks it might lean a little too far into the whole rural archetype, but he supposes that archetypes become archetypes for a reason—the image of a pickup truck driving down a country road has been in the cultural zeitgeist for practically as long as there have been cars.

Although Yuuri anticipates that Makkachin might need help getting up into the cab, she only really has trouble clamoring into the back to sit on the jumpseat with Vicchan, and she manages it even with Yuuri telling her that she doesn’t need to sit in the back. Once both dogs are settled, Yuuri hops in and turns on the car, backing out along the driveway.

Yuuri’s property doesn’t extend very far, but his neighbor’s property is big enough that the drive up to their front door takes about five minutes. Makkachin is looking out the window and, although she must recognize all of the landmarks they’re passing, doesn’t kick up a fuss.

The house of Makkachin’s owner is relatively large, but only in that it has a slightly bigger footprint than Yuuri’s, coupled with what appears to be a half second floor. It’s nowhere near as extravagant as the McMansions that dot this same road closer to town, where they can be hooked up to the city water and it isn’t a half-hour drive to anywhere worth being. It’s a nice house, though, and might have some history behind it—it has a look of a house that probably wasn’t built this century. The land surrounding the house is well-kept. Further back, the property fades into woods, but you’d be hard pressed to find someone who didn’t have at least some woodland on their property out this way, unless that person was a farmer.

There are two other cars parked in the driveway—a pickup and a jeep that Yuuri (with his only tangential knowledge of cars which are not the car he currently owns) thinks is a Wrangler. The jeep is a common choice in this area, mostly because it’s essentially a street-legal tank, so Yuuri isn’t surprised to see it. The pickup truck is old though—like, seventies or eighties old, and it’s a strange creamy salmon color that Yuuri has never seen before.

It might be, Yuuri thinks, one of those cars that people buy their sixteen-year-olds to learn to drive in, unafraid to see it damaged since they only spent 700 dollars buying it. It could, on the other hand, be someone’s prized antique. It’s hard to tell in this area.

Yuuri dismounts from the car and pats the seat for Makkachin. She comes clamoring out, and Yuuri does help her this time—mostly because he doesn’t want her trying to jump down herself, old as she might be. Vicchan tries to sneak out after her, but Yuuri presses him back into the car.

“You’ll get to run around all day at the shop,” Yuuri tells him, when his ears droop. “Be good.”

Vicchan settles back onto the seat so that Yuuri can close the door, but Yuuri sees his little head pop up over the steering wheel a moment later. Yuuri laughs, seeing it.

The front door opens almost immediately after Yuuri knocks, disorientating him slightly. The man standing in front of Yuuri looks like he’s just about to head out the door as well—he’s wearing a gray parka and black scarf, knit hat pulled down over what looks to be platinum hair, and thick leather gloves on his hands. He and Yuuri, surprised to see each other, blink and say nothing for a moment.

“Is that my dog?” says Makkachin’s owner at last, having seen Makkachin lurking behind Yuuri’s knees.

“Um, yes.” Yuuri glances back at Makkachin, who snorts happily at her owner and trots into the house, blissfully dismissive of the two men still on the porch, who now have to slog through social niceties. Yuuri doesn’t necessarily think that Makkachin’s owner will be difficult to deal with—but he is, Yuuri can’t help but notice, deeply attractive, so it’ll probably be fun for Yuuri’s seven AM brain to deal with that.

“How did she get out?” Makkachin’s owner follows hers fluffy retreating butt with a bewildered gaze. “I just—she’s only been out of the house for twenty minutes. How far did she get?”

“She was on my front porch,” Yuuri says, pointing in the direction he lives. “I live down the road about a mile. Our properties adjoin.”

“She’s not supposed to—” Makkachin’s owner sighs, shakes his head and switches his gaze from Makkachin’s retreat into the house to Yuuri, who he smiles at. “I’m sorry. She’s trained not to leave the property line, so I just let her wander most mornings. She’s getting old, though, so maybe she just…got lost.”

“It’s no problem,” Yuuri says, shaking his head. “She’s a sweetheart.”

Makkachin’s owner smiles as though Yuuri has just complimented him, and not his dog. “She really is! I’m Viktor, by the way. Probably rude of me that I’ve never introduced myself, seeing as we’re neighbors.”

Viktor has a very slight accent that becomes more prominent the longer Yuuri hears him talk. He at first thinks it might be Scottish, but eventually his ear adjusts and he realizes it’s something Slavic. It’s a melodic baritone voice and the inflection that he uses is Pure Michigan. First generation in America, maybe, or naturalized as a child as Yuuri himself was. Yuuri realizes he’s been musing on all of this, instead of responding to what Viktor’s actually said, when that welcoming smile slips into confusion.

“It’s fine!” Yuuri rushes to assure, shaking his hands. “It’s just—I don’t really know any? Of my neighbors? I just—there’s so much distance between—I think people are happier just—y’know, not?”

“Right, of course.” Viktor nods, smile still benevolent, but a little more shut off. “Yeah, I guess…people move out here to be…away.”

“Right.” Yuuri clears his throat, hands slipping into pockets. “Yeah, that’s—” It’s definitely why Yuuri moved here, although he’s trying desperately not to anxiously overshare with this man whose only relationship to him is a lost dog. He chooses not to mention it, for obvious reasons. “That’s right.”

There is a staircase visible behind Viktor’s back, down which a blond-haired youth now stomps. He isn’t initially looking at the door, only at Viktor’s back, and when he reaches the floor says, “Viktor, what are you doing—” then sees Yuuri.

“Yuri!” Viktor says, and Yuuri wonders how Viktor knows his name without him ever saying it, before he realizes that the blond is also Yuri. “This man found Makkachin!”

“Makkachin was missing?” Yuri asks, dripping teenaged ambivalence. He looks at Yuuri, his face contracts into something unpleasant, and he barks, “Thanks I guess!” before sweeping away, to parts of the house unseen.

“He’s shy,” Viktor says, watching him go, then turns back to Yuuri.

“His name is Yuri?”

“Yes, although he usually goes by Yura.” Viktor’s eyes widen at the end of that statement, and he’s quick to assure, “He’s my brother, not my son. I’m not old enough to have a sixteen-year-old.”

“Oh, no, yeah, I can tell. I was just asking because that’s—Yuuri, that’s my name.” He clears his throat, feeling awkward. “The Japanese one, not the—uh—Ukrain..ian…?”

“Russian.”

“Right, Russian. It’s not the Russian spelling. Um…” He clears his throat, glances back towards his car. “I’m gonna—go.”

Viktor smiles again. “Sure. Have a nice day! Thanks for bringing Makkachin back.”

Yuuri, inexplicably, gives Viktor a thumbs up, and stumbles backwards off the porch into a rose bush.

By the time he climbs back into the car, his face is red and his jeans are torn.

“We can never come back here,” he tells Vicchan, as he rapidly reverses out of Viktor-Makkachin’s-Owner’s driveway.

Vicchan wuffs at him balefully from under his own ears.

(“What happened to you?” Phichit demands from behind the ice cream counter, when Yuuri rolls into the shop toting Vicchan, half an hour late and still showing evidence of his mauling by rose bush.

“A very attractive man’s very cute dog was on my porch this morning,” says Yuuri, depositing Vicchan in his dog bed (<3 VICCHAN <3 on the side because Phichit spoils him) and grabbing an apron off the peg behind the counter.

“Oh Yuuri,” says Phichit in a pitying tone. “Oh honey. Oh no.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” says Yuuri, miserably, and conks his head onto a cooling table, where it stays until a customer comes in and, tentatively, asks Phichit if the guy over by the fudge is, uh, ok?)

[johnlockficclub]

Discussion Recap - Author Q&A!

Well, JFC crew, we’ve reached the end of another fabulous fic! Thank you so much to everyone who read along and participated in the weekly discussions - you all are the best.

And of course, a huge thank you to @swissmissing for writing The Baker Street Nativity in the first place and for coming along to our Author Q&A to share some insight into her writing process and background to this fic. Questions and answers are below the cut as this got quite long!

And finally, thanks once again to @frodosweetstuff for allowing us to use her artwork for these update posts!

Happy holidays everyone - may you and your loved ones be safe and happy this festive season! xx

1: Why this AU? What got you started on it? @ewebie 

 I saw the movie and with MF in it, of course I immediately started thinking of how it could be a Johnlock AU.  I do that frequently anyway: imagine Johnlock versions of stuff. I just watched a few Netflix Xmas movies recently and I am still thinking of how to turn them into Johnlock AU's. I see the world through Johnlock-coloured glasses. Is that healthy or normal? IDK.

2. Would you ever consider publishing your fanfic? @norburylibrary 

No. First off, the story is obviously cadged from a copyrighted screenplay. To publish it for real, as an original work, I'd have to scrub the names and characters so that they don't interfere with BBC copyright. That part should be feasible, but the story itself is too close to the Nativity screenplay. As for any of my other fics, the non-fusion ones, I don't think I've written anything that could stand on its own without the Sherlock association. One of the huge assets of fan fiction is there is a built-in character background and setting. I'm not up to rewriting to the extent of creating something that could be published as an original work.

3.  What do you enjoy writing most, humor or angst and why? @elwinglyre

I can do both, but I guess I'm more drawn to angst. I think humor is harder to pull off, for me at least. I'm not a naturally funny person. I have to think hard to come up with funny situations and lines. Confession: In some of my fics, there are certain punch lines that were actually written by my beta readers. I think Sherlock and John - in fact all of the Sherlock BBc universe - lends itself more naturally to angst anyway. although there are humorour parts in the eps, I find them more geared towards angst.

4.  Was it confusing at all having seen the movie to then switch the roles?  When writing it. @sherlock-nanowrimo

Yes, totally confusing at first! I started out with the "natural" roles, with John as the teacher and Sherlock as the assistant, but it wasn't working for me so somehow I just got the idea to try it the other way round. Once I started down that path though, it wasn't confusing for me. I was worried throughout that it would be confusing for readers. But everyone who commented and said they had seen the movie, also said the switch wasn't hard for them to deal with.

5.  When you write is it because you get a fic idea or for some other reason? Like stress reliever or for doing something fun? @tildathings 

Good question. I always want to write. I get a great feeling of satisfaction when I write something. Especially when I finish a piece. It's a big shot of dopamine for me. It carries me for a long time, sometimes days. BUT I can't force myself to write. I tried that one year with nanowrimo and it was not a good thing. So I can really only write when "the muse" grabs me. When I get an idea that sticks with me for days and weeks. And with this fic, it really came alive and almost wrote itself, once I was on the right track.

6. How much do you base your writing on the show and how much on your headcanon? @travelingwithoutthedoctor 

This is a problem too, as I haven't gone back and watched the episodes in a really long time. Many of the eps I only saw once in the first place. I have the feeling that the fandom circles you travel in tend to create a fancanon that pretty much replaces the actual canon. So that's something I struggle with. I actually try when I write to imagine and hear the TV characters speaking and acting things out, in the hopes that it makes it closer to how they might actually be in those situations. I suppose that's unavoidable. I'm sure I do have an image of the characters in my mind, and I write from that. I just hope they are pretty aligned with the original characters from the show.

7.  I thought you did an incredible job making Sherlock a teacher for young children credible. That wasn't something we'd think of Sherlock doing, and you made it work. What did you take into consideration when doing this? @elwinglyre

Woo boy, that's a thing! He is so completely unsuited for this position. I had to justify him being in that position, however, so I kind of hand-waved something. Honestly, it wasn't my priority. I was just trying to create Johnlock moments. I mean, I think he's actually quite good with children. We've seen that on the show with Archie. I think it would depend on the kids.

8.  I’m curious about the speed of writing. How quickly do you get a chapter done? @vitruvianwatson

Once I get going, I can usually do about a chapter a week. My chapters tend to be 2-5K. 

9.  The UST, miscommunication and angst of this fic was deliciously frustrating, and a lot of us were yelling at them to just sort themselves out. If that was the hardest part about reading it, I'm wondering about what was difficult to write in this fic?  Were there certain sections or characters that you found challenging? @lediona25

I was honestly following the pacing of the movie, pretty much. I did need to add some scenes. I tried to pace it so that there was a romantic bit about at the halfway point, and another one for the big payoff at the end. One challenging bit was the dog. I wasn't sure whether to include him, but once I did, I kept forgetting about him. I kept having to go back and remember where the dog was and who was taking care of him. I don't have a dog so I was just doing what I've seen other people doing with their dogs. They leave them tied up outside of shops and restaurants all the time so I figured it was okay. Again, it wasn't really a priority. A lot of people commented that they liked the dog in there though, so I'm glad I left him in.

10. It was perfect casting!  We were talking about it during the movie - like with Greg as the headmistress. @sherlock-nanowrimo

That's one of the best parts of doing a fusion, for me anyway, is the casting.  I love discovering how characters map onto each other. Sometimes it's astonishing.  I HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH JIM!!  I didn't want to make him actually evil or a real threat. It always gives me massive anxiety when Moriarty shows up in a fic because often truly awful things happen then. But I wanted to keep this in line with it being a kids' movie. And to be fair, I didn't really need to change all that much from the movie bad guy anyway. That nativity play he put on was insane! And I actually was just teaching one of my classes last year about universal story plots such as the hero's journey.  (Yes, I'm an English teacher.) 11.  One of your ficlets suggests some pretty unpleasant stuff re: Jim's backstory. @bluebellofbakerstreet

Jim's backstory. I kind of imagined he and Sherlock had been rivals at the conservatory and Jim had tried to derail Sherlock with drugs. Perhaps somewhat successfully.

12.  What the hell is the story with Sherlock and whatever he did to Seb Wilkes?! @ewebie

I don't know either! LOL that is actually something I like doing in fics because, again, I like it when fics do that: hint at something but not elaborate and leave it up to you to decide what was actually going on.  I guess maybe that's frustrating to some people but for me, it gives fics depth and realism.  It's like in some fics where you just hear about a case in passing but the details are never fleshed out. I was using it to show that Sherlock had made poor decisions with kids in the past, so this thing he did with taking the kids to the studio wasn't out of character.

13. John... as a classroom assistant. How did you see him ending up there? Our conclusion was that... lost people just sometimes end up places @ewebie

I don't recall if it's explained in the fic or not, but I actually had something in mind for that. He was invalided out of the army and bumming around with nothing to do, feeling useless. His good friend Mike, who was also a teacher, recommended him to Greg as a classroom assistant. No idea if that would be allowed in the UK but here in Switzerland it's frequently done. Usually a retired person will be brought in as a classroom assistant. This keeps them active and engaged, and is a big help to the teachers.

14.  We loved the whole scene with Moriarty at the end when Mycroft pops out and saves the day.  You did a bang-up job with that.  When you're finishing a story, are you one those "I've planned it all out" writers or stream of consciousness writers. Let's go with the flow? @elwinglyre

In this case, the ending was written for me. I just followed the plot of the movie. Usually, though, I do have the ending in mind from the start. It's usually pretty much a sex scene, lol. The whole point of the fic is usually, how do I get these two together? 

15.  Oh! The sex! Is that easy for you to write. I have the hardest time with that. Is something your really get into? @elwinglyre 

True story (which I also told on one of my guest slots on the TPP): I didn't use to be able to write sex scenes. But I wanted to. So I literally would copy sex scenes from fics I liked. Just like, typing them out word for word. This got me used to writing those words and those acts on my screen. Then I tried writing my own. I think I sort of have a reputation for writing awkward-realistic sex scenes. I'm not aiming for that, it's just how they come out. It's a mix of, again, imagining how the characters would appear and act and speak in those situations, and also I guess how I would feel and want things to be.

16. We have a lot of people in this group who are just starting out writing fic or are thinking about writing something, do you have any advice to new writers? @lediona25

I'll just say what we started out talking about: Write for yourself. Write what you want to read. You will always have an appreciative audience. I see so many writers get discouraged because they don't have massive hits and kudos, and they just give up. I think most of the popular writers in fandom have been around for years. This may be their third or fourth fandom. They've been writing in real life. Experience takes a long time to build up.So write for yourself. The rest will come. And... at the moment, it feels a bit like there's less readers than 2 years ago, so really really don't be discouraged.

Thanks to all those who asked questions and to @swissmissing for her thoughtful answers! :)

[thelightofthingshopedfor]

cw pet death but this is mostly behind a cut because I’m rambling again trying to process some things and figure out some other things, and it got long

the thing that's getting me the most about grieving Scully--and again, I know I'm not breaking any new ground here, and I know I’ve been very lucky compared to people who have already lost pets or even friends or family members, but it's new and unpleasant for me--is how damn inconsistent it is, sometimes on an hourly basis. like, I'll be kind of okay, mostly thinking about good memories, focusing on the good life I gave him, remembering the love more than the pain, thinking about getting another dog so I can spread that love to another fur baby who needs it. and then sometimes there's nothing okay about it at all, and I want to cry again, and all I can think about is that it wasn't fair, we were managing his kidney disease well and he could have stayed happy and healthy for a lot longer if this stupid random other thing hadn't come up (but at the same time, it's kind of good that it was something sudden and definitive, instead of a long, slow decline where we'd keep having to ask ourselves whether he still had a good quality of life or if we were just being selfish), and I miss him and I want him back so much and it's just wrong that this little guy who was such a big part of my life doesn't exist in the world anymore, and sometimes it feels like if I just do the right thing or make the right bargain the universe will give him back to me, and I don’t know how to reconcile myself to the reality that that isn’t possible.

and part of what's so frustrating about that, just aside from the fact that it hurts, is that it also makes it really hard to know how best to move forward. specifically: should I get another dog, and if so, when? I mean, I do want one, because dogs are so good, and I love them, and I want to give another dog a good home, and I've already been looking online at adoptable dogs and falling a little bit in love with some of them--but at the same time can I really deal with doing this again? it would be so much easier and less painful to just not give my heart to another dog child that I'll inevitably lose. do the positive effects on my mental health outweigh the negatives, especially at the end of a dog's life but during it as well? there's an aspect of relief to everything being over with Scully, because his health was slowly declining for at least the past couple years, more so in the last several months, and I was always worrying about him on some level--and even when he was healthy, there was always that awful awareness at the back of my mind when I'd hold him or look at him, going "you're going to lose this someday". but then, if I could go back and make a different choice about adopting Scully to save myself the pain of losing him, I'd never do it. I can't always say the pain was worth it, at least not yet, but I still wouldn't give up the years I had with him for anything. so don't I want that with another dog? it seems...masochistic and ridiculous, making a deliberate choice that I KNOW will eventually lead to a lot of pain. but that's...inevitable with everything, right? everything ends. that's pretty much the one constant. the only way you can protect yourself from the pain of losing things is to refuse to care about anything and then, well, what's the point of life in the first place?

on a more practical level, it is sort of nice that I don't have to structure my schedule around a doggo's need to be walked, for the first time in almost 10 years; mostly it means my weekends and evenings are a little freer, and also I don't have to go out and get wet and/or cold when the weather's not ideal. but I mean...I would happily give back that convenience if it meant having Scully alive and healthy again, so...it's really not a major consideration. although it might be an argument for waiting until winter's over. except that means like...AT LEAST six more dogless months.

which of course is another important question! if most parts of my brain are agreed that yes, getting another dog is worth it even for the parts that will hurt, what's the right timing? is there, in fact, a way to know in advance what the right timing is? like...maybe it would be better if I waited, because maybe then I would be able to get all of this straightened out for myself, and even my subconscious would accept that Scully’s really gone, and I could heal and focus on the good stuff and welcome a new doggo for all the right reasons, instead of only sometimes feeling like the joy is worth the pain. buuuuut if I put it off, will I just keep doing that because it's easier? how will I know, anyway, when or whether I've healed enough? there's a pretty strong argument to be made that finding a new dog would actually be the best way to heal, because then the new furry friend would be a positive presence demanding my attention, instead of the Scully-shaped absence almost constantly making itself felt currently. (I'm making it sound like I don't have a cat either and I feel a little bad about that because I do love him too, but...it's really not the same. he's a great cat! and for various reasons he's just not going to fill the Scully-shaped absence. he doesn't like being held, for one thing, and...y'all, I need a furry little friend to cuddle.) this is actually backed up by personal experience because when my previous cat died, it was nowhere near as bad as this but I was still pretty upset, and what helped most was a week or so later when the universe dropped another cat into our laps. we didn't even have plans of getting a new cat at that point--it just sort of happened. 

BUT given that in this case I'm seeking out new dogs, it's an active choice rather than a reaction to a new kiddo wandering into my life (unless I took my sister's dog, which...wouldn't work out that well because he's bigger than Scully and even worse about being underfoot, and our place is already crowded), so is it the right choice to be making? am I more likely to make a wrong choice because I'm kind of in a hurry? (but also there's no guarantee that I'll find The Perfect Dog if I wait, it's hardly even possible to find The Perfect Car and this is pretty different. but still. I didn't even choose Scully in the first place--my sister did that--so I actually have no experience choosing a dog, and y'all know I have a real problem with decision paralysis at the best of times. when it's an important long-term commitment...well.) is it fair to the potential new dog, when I know it would be a rebound to one extent or another? I mean that's kind of a silly question because I would be making the same commitment no matter what, and a dog who doesn't have a home of their own will almost definitely care more about getting a home than about whether it takes a little while for them to transition from "rebound dog" to "second love of my life" or whatever. but--is it fair, still? especially if, I don't know, I find a new dog who needs a little extra love and patience and maybe I don't have that in me yet? would I just end up trying to find Scully 2.0, inevitably failing, and then unfavorably comparing New Dog to him, instead of being able to welcome New Dog as an individual little fur person in their own right? (there is also personal precedent for this, in the other direction! I loved my previous cat, I really did, but when we got our current cat, I mostly just found myself noticing how many things about him I liked better because he was so much friendlier!) is it disrespectful to Scully's memory to get a new dog soon? that's also kind of a silly question but...is it? or at least, will it feel that way to me and make me feel too guilty to bond properly with New Dog?

and then I was also thinking, would it be better in some respects to deliberately go for a senior dog because in some ways it would be less of a long-term commitment, and I'd be able to provide a good home for a dog who otherwise might have trouble getting adopted while maybe not getting quite so deeply attached because they wouldn't be with me as long (and if they were old enough, they'd probably spend most of their time sleeping anyway) and then maybe it wouldn't hurt as much at the end? or would that be even worse, because I'd probably fall in love anyway? for that matter, should I focus on giving a home to a dog who's been without one for a long time, which would probably mean one of several funny-looking Chihuahua mixes that I wouldn't necessarily find cute even if I'm sure I could find one whose personality I love? or is it okay to hold out for what I actually want on a superficial level, which generally just means "cute face, soft fur, not quite as small or short-haired as your typical Chihuahua mix"? similarly, should I focus on shelter dogs who currently have sadder lives and greater need for a home, or is it okay to look mostly at rescue groups that generally have dogs in foster homes and are more likely to have the kind of dog I'm looking for? (this might not even be relevant because I don't think the local shelter actually has any small dogs available for adoption right now, but. still.)

obviously the other relevant question is "am I overthinking everything" and the answer is "almost definitely yes, because that's how the Kyra do"...and unfortunately it's all stuff I have to work out for myself, one way or another, because nobody else can really figure it out for me. but I guess if anyone who’s been through this has advice on how to untangle the mess, that probably couldn’t hurt. >_<