#AND a free enough timetable that I’ll be able to keep up with it with a little effort

[exopelagic]

Okay I’m finally excited abt term starting now this is gonna be GOOD

[redfrogs]

10/09/23 —> Sunday

I am SO. TIRED. I’ve only had two and a half days and the workload is already killing me.

I haven’t had a biology lesson yet due partly to timetable but also a bunch of welcome back assemblies. It’s annoying, because my old school had a theatre with seats in them and in this school we all sit on the floor. Pins and needles hell 😔

I’ve had a couple chemistry lessons, and I’ve been enjoying them so far. It’s a little intense, but nothing I haven’t been able to wrap my head around yet.

GEOGRAPHY?? Everybody warned me that bio and chem would be the death of me, but I’ve only had like 3 geography lessons and I’ve already had to do 2 essays. ☹️☹️

I was up until 3 AM on Thursday trying to get my research and essay done on the difference between warm and cold glaciers.

Today I finished my research and notes for my next essay, ‘The Mediterranean Migrant Crisis’. I’ll write the rough draft in my free tomorrow, and finish it after school.

I also finished (I think) setting up my organisation system today. I realised my system i had planned would NOT be good enough.

Also, the physical toll is not something I was prepared for? Friday night my shoulders were covered (still are) in friction burns and purple bruises, and my ankles keep getting cut open. My whole body aches from the amount of walking, the weight of my bag, and the amount of mental energy I’m using.

Still, this is WAY more fun that year 11. I’m having a great time. 👍👍

[lunechante]

Work

2.

Ever since my first work-related burn out - I had an other one years later that led to a car accident -, I only managed to implement 2 tools to try and keep me from losing it again.

6 years.

And I only found two tiny tools not to get overpowered by my job.

I don’t work after 8:00pm anymore. I try to avoid it from 6:30 but it’s not always possible. The later I work, the harder it gets for me to sleep. First because I need all that time for my brain to cut off. So it can slow down and feel sleepy. But also because the longer I spend on an activity in a day, the bigger space it takes in my brain. It’s here. Whenever I close my eyes. When I sleep. Until it suffocates me. And that when work goes well and on a normal schedule. The extra hours, projects and meetings don’t only mess up with that, but they also bring anxiety of their own.

My other tool is writing down in my planner all the hours I work. I’m a teacher, I’m not on the clock. But I need clarity. I need to see I’ve worked more than my share and deserve the break that I need. Or don’t realise that I need.

The thing with teaching is that you usually get the same grades. You can reuse the stuff you have experimented and know work. 4 years I’ve been in the same middle school. 4 years with the same 4 grades (that’s actually a lot, most of my colleagues in other middle-schools only have 2 or 3). Many things I do reuse. But most need improvements. Or I get bored with them, so I switch to something completely different. 4 years I’ve waited for that moment I’ll rely on all of my previous hard work to get some free time. To engage in my hobbies. I’m still not there. I don’t think I will ever be.

Because you have all the other stuff. All the extra work you are more or less pressured to take upon. There has to be an IT go-to person. You’re the only one who know how to handle computers and tablets, can you do it? Otherwise there’s no-one else. We don’t have enough class teachers, you must step in. We need teachers among the administrators. You are single, don’t have any children and live right next to the school, it’s not a big deal for you to enrol. We need teachers to sit at the student meetings. You enjoy organising festive stuff, can you please come? I found half an hour lacking in your yearly timetable. You are going to give some kids you were not supposed to teach at all this year some methodology workshops according to their needs. Even though you suck at methodology and have to press your colleagues to consult them about what to do with who. You are going to step out of your class in the middle of a lesson tomorrow to attend a meeting with a mum and plenty other important people and then go straight back to teach an other class without any transition (I’m autistic, I simply cannot do that). You really love cinema, you should build up a project about animation film (I did, because it’s thrilling, but also it’s way too much right now, but I just can’t let the chance go).

One of the things in education is that it’s a public service. My employer is the state and work regulations don’t apply to the state as an employer. I never signed a contract. There is no job description. We are constantly ‘invited’ to meetings and training, whether they are mandatory or not. Of course no one lets us know which ones are mandatory. We have nothing to refer to clear that out. For a many months, my headmaster mastered the art of making us assume things are mandatory so we all attended everything and he could brag about how diligent his team was. Everyone around me is tired about it. Some are, like me, getting annoyed. But I seem to be the only one to get insomnia from not being able to figure out what is expected and to what extent.

Not to mention that most of us teachers (not all obviously, but at least 70% of the people I have worked with, to different extents, since some actually know how to set boundaries - or just don’t give a shit) are meticulous, assertive swots who only aim to be the best we can. That haze is the best way to keep pressing us like lemons. And we’re aware of it. But our sense of duty is so exaggerated, we keep playing the game. Until we break.

1. - 3.

[thetinypsychologist]

A GUIDE TO STUDYING ONLINE/ONLINE SCHOOL

Hello all! Since I’ve started university now I thought I’d make a post on how to survive online school/studying!

SYNCHRONOUS VS ASYNCHRONOUS

Synchronous - taking part in online classes live via Zoom, MS Teams etc. It basically means also that you have to be at your computer or at least on your phone every time you normally should be at campus. This also means that you can interact with the teacher, ask questions but may also have to be prepared and be able to answer questions.

Asynchronous - taking part in online classes via some kind of communication tool, for example email, or your school’s e-drive. Teachers can send powerpoints, documents or even a video of them explaining a topic. You will have to finish the assignment until a certain date and either upload it or send it to them. The advantage of this is that you can save time if you are faster than the normal duration of the course. Furthermore, you can decide for yourself when you are spending time on this subject and work at your pace. 

MAKE A TIMETABLE / TO-DO LIST

Make yourself a timetable or write down in your planner when you have to be online for which course and with what kind of tool (Zoom, Teams, email). You can also add in times you’re going to do your asynchronous work. For example on Tuesday’s I have a free day from synchronous lectures so I will catch up with asynchronous work then. Alternatively, make a to-do list whether it’s for the day or for the week. Mark the tasks you have to do the soonest with a certain colour or with a symbol beside it. If it’s not clear from the assignment itself, also write down to which subject or module the assignment belongs and how to submit it (for example upload to Teams or sending it via email). Learn to prioritise your tasks. TIP: make a folder for all your  subjects/assignments and organise by module/topic. Edit: So now all my lectures are asynchronous, and I have on campus seminars so what I’ve done when making my timetable is: write in all timetabled/on-campus/synchronous sessions, and then from there I can see when I’m free to slot in any asynchronous lectures - and I’ll timetable these so I don’t forget to do them. I’ll also take into account when my seminars are e.g. if I have a social psychology seminar on Tuesday, I’ll make sure I get the social psychology lecture done before that seminar, rather than doing it on Friday when I have a free day.

TAKING NOTES

It can be hard to take notes on the laptop while in synchronous teaching. You can either go online with your phone and take notes on your laptop, take notes by hand or you can also try splitting your screen (which is what I do) between your MS Teams/Zoom and MS Word so you can see/hear what is being streamed while taking your notes. Many universities also enable a rewatch function,or they record lectures so you can watch the stream multiple times. If you have the possibility (and time) to rewatch the lesson, focus during the live stream only on understanding the topic and on asking questions if necessary. Take your notes while listening to the stream for the second time. This way, you will understand the topic better because you can fully focus on it. By listening to it a second time and writing down the important things, you also have your first revision! Only do this if the rewatch option of the stream is available and you have the time.

CHOOSE YOUR WORKSPACE WISELY

You probably already have one or multiple study spaces at home that you are used too. Probably (or hopefully) they are also practical - however, what is practical for studying in private might not be practical for synchronous teaching. Make sure the lighting is right so if you need to put your camera on - your face is recognisable and the light doesn’t cast shadows that may affect the call/camera. Make sure you also have enough space for your devices, pencil case, planner, drinks, notepad etc and make sure you have your chargers and you have a sufficient wi-fi connection!

FAMILIARISE YOURSELF WITH THE SOFTWARE

Whether it’s MS Teams, Zoom, or your school’s personal portal - familiarise yourself with how it works and where everything is found. This makes uploading work easier for you and helps you stay organised.

FIND A ROUTINE

Find a routine that works for you in terms of keeping up to date with your work, maintaining your social life and keeping some free time. Whether that’s a timetable by above or just settling into a routine - find what works best for you. E.g I wake up usually about 90 minutes before my first online session, take notes and in-between sessions, make sure I’ve uploaded everything onto my workspace in Notion (let me know if you want more info on this!) and then when I have more time I’ll check emails, plan blog posts etc etc. Make sure to try get at least 8 hours sleep every night and try maintain your social life/free time!

I think that’s everything I can think of! I do hope this helped! Please remember that we are all in the same boat with online learning and don’t be afraid to ask your teachers/peers for help!

[monster-bait]

Hi, Mx Nascosta, I've been following you for a long while now and I really admire you as a writer and now as a published author. I'm currently editing my own paranormal book and I'm looking to get a headstart on marketing with social media. So far, I've been building a following on Twitter, but I was wondering if you had any tips or could share what you've been doing? Thank you!

Network, participate, make friends — rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. Becoming involved in a community is the quickest way to gain a foothold within said community. Social media is definitely a case study in reaping what you sow, effort-wise. Beyond that, don’t spread yourself so thin that you’re not able to make an organic impact.

I’ll use myself as an example: I have the best interactions with people here on Tumblr. This is the kindest social media platform for creators, I’ll fight anyone who claims differently. There are no funky algorithms, no blue check-marks, no influencers. The ability to engage directly with readers has been a gift over the past year and a half. I’ve put the most into this platform, between my masterlist (I posted content every single week during the first year of my blog, until I got sick,) the Monster Matches, my askbox, etc — and as a result, you guys have been wonderfully supportive, and I can’t thank this community enough. 

The other platform I give my time to is Instagram (and I would really, super-duper love it if you guys followed me there as well!) My IG is only about a year old and it’s only in the last 6 months or so that I’ve been posting on it regularly. I followed a BUNCH of people--other writers, book bloggers, publishing houses, merch shops, etc--and I interacted on their posts, reblogged in my stories, etc. The more I shared and commented, the more other accounts interacted with my content and stories. I still don’t have a ton of followers there (like less than 500) but the engagement with other authors and bloggers and my patrons has been consistent, which makes up for the lack of reach. As a result, 50% of my ARC team came from IG and I’m still reaping the benefits of word-of-mouth within that community even though GW is almost 2 months old at this point.

(And just to change gears for a hot second...reach is important, obviously. That’s why it’s important to reblog vesus liking creator posts, but follower count isn’t everything and it’s folly to get too wrapped up in it. I have less than half the followers of some other writers in the Tumblr sphere, but quality engagement is what’s more important for me, and has had the biggest impact on the reach of my work. Don’t ever let yourself get too caught up in the follow counts and notes on posts. Find your tribe, the people who are passionate about the story you’re telling, and the numbers will follow!)

I put very little into Twitter and virtually nothing into FB, and as a result, I get very little back in return. 

I’m going to write a post later this week about my learns in the wake of Girls Weekend, I’ll tag you in it, if you’d like! (I’m going to be posting Alder the Ghillie Dhue’s revisit in the next day or so and polishing that up is my first priority before I work on anything else... @tmnt-bucklover, I hope you really love Cambric Creek, because this is less of a “monster match revisit” and more of a “these characters are a permanent part of the community now, so get used to it” story.)

I will say this—Girls Weekend is almost 2 months old at this point, still technically a “new release” but also an old dinosaur in the world of Amazon publishing. As of today, it’s still in the top 100 of three different genre categories, I’ve sold copies every single day since release, I’ve sold out of book boxes twice, and I’ve not spent a single penny on advertising. It’s 100% because of the work I put into building relationships and readers in the community here and on IG—that means all of you guys—and my wonderful patrons. I would love to be able to tell you it wasn’t work, but that would be a *tremendous* lie. It causes my heart an ENORMOUS amount of joy to hear you’re already thinking ahead on that angle of publishing. One thing to keep in mind: you’re not on anyone’s timetable but your own if you’re publishing independently. You only get one release per book. Even if you’re done, even if you’re edited and formatted with a killer cover and you’ve worked on your blurb and are SO READY to publish...give yourself the time to do it right. If you make mistakes--and you will--good news: you can learn from them and do things differently with the next one. But there’s no one holding a clock to you, so if you feel like you want to work on building your community first, you have the latitude to do so.

Talk about your book, talk about your characters, be your own biggest fan. Your passion will attract the passion of others. And I’ve said this before, but I will repeat it a hundred thousand times—you guys can ALWAYS tag me on stuff you’d like boosted. I don't have the biggest platform, but it’s a damned good one with awesome followers and readers. Whether that’s a story, an announcement, artwork, cover reveals, contests—use me! I’m a free resource!

💖💖💖

[hecohansen31]

hey! if you’re requests are still open, could you do a small piece with the foursome! maybe the reader finally talks about her own trauma (daddy issues?) and opens up for once.

(A/N): Hello there, lovely!

So I hope you won’t mind that I changed your request: I previously had an idea, and I thought this request was perfect to develop it (also because I am costantly scared to write badly any mental health issues, even ‘daddy issues’!).

Still, as always, if you feel uncomfortable or you didn’t like this, you just have to send me an ask and I’ll rewrite this again!

WARNINGS: Talk About Mental Health/Trust Issues/Problematic Relation With Therapists/Light Stalking/Poly-Relationship.

You had started seeing a therapist, before you had started your relationship with Duncan, Michael and Jim.

Although you weren’t ashamed of such thing, you hadn’t told them about it, more out of the constant habit of dealing things on your own than because you felt uncomfortable talking about such a thing.

And it hadn’t been a problem for you, you could juggle up perfectly your business and most of the time you could count on a perfect excuse to justify the hour you spent with your therapist, each Friday.

You therapist actually knew about your relationship and hadn’t pressured you into revealing them your problematics or the fact that you visited her weekly, but she had highly suggested that you talked with them about it.

‘There is nothing to be ashamed, (Y/N)’ she had told you, meanwhile you fidgeted with your hands ‘You know well that they aren’t the judging type and that, what you do here, is absolutely nothing illegal or wrong’.

You had nodded, but every time, right when you wanted to talk with them about it, the words died on your tongue and you quickly changed the theme of your chats and shifted their focus away from you.

But soon your small absences were noticed by your lovers: Duncan sometimes would call you to check on you, just to find your phone switched off, which was strange not only because nobody switched off their phones anymore, but also you were pretty active with it.

Jim and Michael had tried to propose some interesting activities to do on Friday afternoon, so that you could spend some time together, but you would always shake your head, and suggest either another time or another date, coming up with new excuses each time.

But they noticed that you would always keep each Friday at 4:30 p.m. free, and one day, they had chosen to follow you, although Michael had insisted that it was extremely stalkerish.

‘It isn’t stalkerish if done with love’ had muttered Jim, and Michael had just shot him a look before muttering about how ‘he shouldn’t have let him watch ‘You’ on Netflix’.

They had followed you, ‘discreetly’, although they were lucky that you hadn’t noticed them because you were too much on cloud nine, since they did nothing more than tripping onto things and running into people, but they had made it to a small building, which looked pretty normal.

Were you meeting with a friend?

Both Jim and Michael were surprised about you meeting with a friend, without telling them.

But they weren’t one of those ‘always together couple’, but they didn’t understand why you would hide them an outing with friends.

… but maybe it wasn’t simply an outing with a friend.

Were you cheating on them?

That would explain the secrecy and the fact that you were entering that building.

They also managed to enter it although clumsily, asking one of its resident to open the door, faking to be the friends of one of the other tenants, but once they were inside they weren’t able to actually look where you had gone and ended up exploring rather clumsy.

But their eyes were immediately caught by what looked like a private studio and they wandered inside, mostly because everything was better than the thought of you cheating on them: maybe you simply were having some problems you were too ashamed to talk with them.

They knew lately you had been writing some stories, maybe you had chosen to publish them and this was a talent scout or a publishing house…

Once they were inside, they realized it wasn’t a simple studio, but it was a therapist one, the secretary looking at them confused before she dared to ask them whether they had an appointment or needed to book one.

“Ahem we are…actually… in need to book one” lied Jim, and Michael was half thankful that the secretary didn’t seem to care enough about them to avoid noticing the fakeness in Jim’s tone, who continued on setting a fake appointment, giving the woman the same date of (Y/N)’s strange absence.

“I am sorry, but that spot is already busy” she mumbled and Michael managed to catch a glimpse of the timetable discovering that your name was signed down for that spot, showing that you were seeing a therapist.

That for  all that time you had been seeing one, without telling them anything.

Were you ashamed?

Had they given you the idea of not being able to take care of you?

Had they given you the idea that they would make fun of you, if you told them that you were seeing a therapist?

They hadn’t certainly been truly angelic with you, but they were open-minded enough not to judge you about feeling the need of seeing somebody that might help you.

Michael couldn’t help but be both slightly disappointed and both a bit self-conscious of his behavior towards you.

As Jim finished settling the appointment, he grabbed him by the shirt, to let him know they had to leave, before you finished your session, saluting the secretary as she reminded one last time to them the date of the appointment.

“Please don’t tell me I just signed up for nothing” mumbled Jim, once they were outside.

“(Y/N) was here” mumbled Michael was they were inside of the car, gaining a skeptical look from Jim “… she is… she is seeing a therapist, I saw her spot on the timetable, meanwhile you were booking the appointment”.

“Why is (Y/N) seeing a therapist?” asked Jim, much more naively than Michael, meanwhile he rode off quickly making sure not to attract any attention on them “… do you think that it is because we make her crazy”.

“Jim, why do you have to make this funny whereas it isn’t in the slightest!” Michael’s outburst of rage made Jim tremble lightly and the blond man tightened the grip onto the steering wheel, coming to an abrupt stop “… I am sorry, it just… baffles me… that she…”.

“…that she doesn’t trust us?” completed Jimmy, before he softly pushed an hand onto Michael’s white knuckles “… Michael we hated her till a month ago… she has every right to keep us out of some things she thinks are personal”.

“Weren’t you the one who wanted to stalk her?” shot back Michael.

“Because I thought she was hiding someone, but… Michael… how long did it take you to open up with me and Duncan about your problems with your grandma? Or for me to open up about my substance abuse” Michael didn’t answer “… it took us long, and you can’t blame her”.

“So, we have to pretend nothing happened?” Michael didn’t know if he could do it and was thankful when Jim shook her hand.

“No, we need to talk with Duncan and her, at least to apologize, and to show our support towards her and her journey” replied Jimmy, meanwhile he quickly held and gripped Michael’s hand on the steering wheel.

“Then I think we should get some cake”.

You had come home after an entire afternoon of crazy errands, although you had wished, for the entire time, nothing more than to come back home, mostly since the therapy of that day had been rather serious, and again, your therapist had explained the importance of letting your partners know of your journey, both to help you and to be sincere with them.

You had actually thought about coming clean, and in the end swore to confess it to them at least before Sunday, but when you had come home, the climate… was strange.

Michael was avoiding you, without putting into it too much effort to hide it and Jim was exceeding with his usual cuddles, even going as far as to stick at you when you got up to get the dinner ready, awakening also Michael, who came to stand into one of the stool at the kitchen island, beside Jim, as if they wanted to talk with you.

“Did something happen, guys?” you asked, wondering whether you had forgotten some anniversary or birthday “… are you mad at me?”.

“We followed you today” spoke Michael, almost spitting out the words as if they were on the tip of his tongue “… Jim has seen too many ‘You’ episode and decided to finally discover what you do each Friday at 4:30 p.m.”.

You were petrified on the spot and Jim continued, Michael’s speech, with much more sweetness to the tone:

“I didn’t mean to, but… I just… I thought you might be seeing someone else” your expression quickly changed to baffled, mildly offended “… I am sorry, you know we have abandonment issues… but this is another problem, we have discovered you are seeing a therapist”:

Well the truth was now out and you couldn’t help but be nervous at their thoughts, although you were ashamed, you knew people had mixed reaction about you seeing a therapist, you had been even wary about sharing this with some of you more distant friends.

“Why did you hide it from us?” Michael’s accusing tone was enough to made you cringe, and he saw it, immediately backing up and muttering a light ‘sorry’.

“I… I don’t know… it just never came up” you replied, hiding slightly in yourself, shrinking a bit to appear smaller.

“Don’t you trust us?” asked Jim, his tone definitely lighter than Michael, but the accusation heavy on his tone.

“It isn’t that I don’t trust you, but…” you tried to mumble “… it’s difficult for me to talk about it… it took me years to approach a therapist, and I am not ashamed of it, but I tend to deal… with things… on my own, have always been”.

“You don’t have anymore” a deep voice, surprised you and you all turned to catch Duncan staring at them, and you couldn’t help but blush further, hiding in the kitchen “…I am sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear, but I just wanted you to know that at least for me… this is a judgement free place”.

“Thank you” you stammered, meanwhile your other two lovers nodded.

“I am not going to lie I felt a bit heartbroken when I discovered this, but…” spoke Michael, and held out an hand for you to take, a true peace offering “… I understand now why you might not want to talk about it with us, but… if you need anything, you are more than welcome to let us know”.

“Yeah, exactly!” backed him up Jimmy “… is there something you want to talk about with us? Is there something we need to avoid? Or any way we can help you?”.

You appreciated Jimmy’s questions, although you couldn’t help but be slightly nervous, gently encouraged by Duncan, who came behind you and hugged you softly, letting you know his presence in this.

“I might need wine to speak up a bit” you joked, and Michael joined the laugh before he promptly mumbled.

“We have a chocolate cake to share” he mumbled, before he promptly added “I mean you have one and I have my own”.

“I think that you also need an appointment to a therapist or some doctor to check on that sugar flow”.

“You are just jealous of my perfect weight, Jimmy!”.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at that and cuddled a bit tighter into Duncan’s arms: you might have had bad and heavy days, but you had three lovers always ready to make you feel better.

You were glad to have them in your life.

[blu-joons]

You’re A Dog Groomer ~ Kim Taehyung

The sound of the bell above the door caught your attention as you restocked one of the shop shelves. You looked up, smiling, as a red-haired boy walked in, carrying his dog in a pouch bag, approaching the counter.

“Hi there,” he softly smiled. His deep, melodic voice instantly took you by surprise, bringing a soft smile to your lips. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a grooming appointment free?”

“Let me have a look,” you chirpily responded, looking through the timetable on the laptop to see your schedule cleared for the next hour. “Is right now any good?”

Eagerly, he nodded, taking his dog out of the pouch. “This will teach me for not being organised, thank you so much for squeezing him in.”

You knelt down, greeting his dog who skipped over to you, nuzzling his head along your legs. The man stood back, allowing the two of you to become familiar with each other, as your hands tickled behind his ears and her tummy.

“So, what is the name of this gorgeous one? He certainly looks a character.”

That’s Yeontan, or Tannie, and I’m Taehyung,” he smiled, offering his hand for you to shake. “He definitely needs a bit of a tidy up.”

“I think Tannie is beautiful,”, you replied, cooing down to the dog. “I’m Y/N by the way, and I promise I will get him looking perfect.”

You picked him up, tucking him under your arm, opening the door to the back of the groomers. “Shall I wait out here?” He spoke up as you walked in.

“You can come back here if you’d like, there’s a few spare seats around.”

He followed you into the groomers, astonished when he saw the workstation. Instantly, he was relieved he’d picked your shop to take Yeontan to, he was going to be well looked after, and he knew it. You settled him down on a bench, beginning the process to sort out his fur and giving him a clean-up.

“How long have you been grooming for?” He asked.

“All my life really, this is a family business.”

He sighed, a wide smile on his face. Looking around he soon spotted a few family photos scattered around the walls, little things that made it homely.

“That’s amazing. I’ve always thought it took quite a skill to be able to groom dogs. I bet you get some right characters in.”

Everyday was a new adventure, some dogs were well behaved, like Yeontan, others, not so much. He sat perfectly still as you checked through his fur coat and inspected the fur. His good behaviour even took Taehyung by surprise as he watched on, he knew how energetic he could be sometimes if he wanted to.

Once you’d trimmed his coat and checked him over, you took him over for a bath, washing through his fur, making sure not to miss a single bit, with Taehyung watching over you.

“We had a rather excitable Jack Russell in this morning, a bit of a nightmare, but it’s part of the job,” you informed him, remembering your eventful morning.

“I’d love to work with dogs all day.”

“It certainly makes coming to work in the mornings happier,” you giggled, glancing between him and his dog. “Little ones like this always melt my heart.”

You took him out of the water from her bath, wrapping his small body in a towel, rubbing down the curled strands of fur from the water. He shuddered momentarily, sending droplets of water all over the room.

“Sorry,” Taehyung laughed as she did so, “towels aren’t his favourite thing, I should have warned you. Tannie behave,” he beckoned, walking around so that she could look at him. “We need to get you looking gorgeous baby.”

“He’s already gorgeous.”

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours. Your smile caught his gaze, it was clear how passionate you were about your job. He’d never met someone so caring for animals before or felt like Yeontan was so safe in another person’s arms.

You continued to dry him off until you were satisfied, relieved that Taehyung had been around to help relax her through it.

“We just need to clip his paws and then we are done.”

It was the worst part of the job as dogs flinched and squealed, but somehow, Yeontan sat perfectly, allowing you to snip until they were at a healthy length.

“You’ve done a good job with him,” you complimented, “he’s very well behaved.”

He nodded, brushing his hand over the top of his head. “I’ve always tried to teach him to be good, he doesn’t always listen though.”

“Most dogs don’t listen, it’s like they get a kick out of being disobedient and not listening to their owners.” He knew exactly what you meant, there had been moments too when he wanted to give up training Yeontan.

“I think they enjoy seeing their human wound up.”

You smiled, whilst lifting Yeontan down, giggling as he ran straight back over to Taehyung, allowing him to pick him up and admire his new shine.

“I can’t believe what a good job you’ve done with him, it’s like looking at a new dog,” he spoke, “Tannie you look so cute baby, didn’t Y/N do well.”

The two of you walked back through to the reception, as he settled Yeontan back in the pouch. “Whenever you’re ready I’ll pop the amount into the card machine and we can settle, and then you can take Yeontan home to rest.”

“I wish he could rest. He loves to run around the place, especially when I’m tired. He’s needy for attention, always. He comes with me to work quite often, and so everyone loves to give him and cuddles, he’d let them all day if he could.”

“That’s adorable. Sometimes I would love to keep some of the dogs we have here, giving them back to their owners is never really easy.”

“I bet, especially when they are regulars, dogs are really easy to build bonds with.” He smiled, paying for the appointment. “I can promise that you will definitely be seeing Yeontan again, there is nowhere else I will take him now.”

You couldn’t help but smile, already you knew that the two of them would become some of your favourite customers.

“Well, I hope you get some rest, and Tannie enjoys his new look. It was lovely to meet you both today,” you smiled, tidying up the workspace around you.

He picked up the pouch, reaching into his back pocket. “There’s a little extra money there, call it a tip for all the fantastic work you’ve done. I cannot thank you enough, and I’m sure if Tannie could speak, he would thank you too.”

“There’s no need to do that, I’m only doing my job.”

“I won’t take it back,” he chuckled, “I’ll see you next time.”

“Bye!”

You unfolded the money that he handed to you, counting it up, when a small piece of paper fell out between the notes. Opening it up, you couldn’t help but smile as you saw he’d written his number on it, asking for you to text him.

The door had already shut before you could shout, but you knew the two of them would be back very soon.

---

Masterlist

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Is Cry Me. A River done? I thought there was more coming or did I read something wrong?

Not done, nearly though

Part Five:

The tingle of something altogether too pleasant ran along the inside of her thighs, bringing Claire out of her slumber. Two hands gripped her, keeping her gently in place as Jamie nestled himself neatly between her legs. She opened her eyes, squinting but unable to lift her head enough to see him clearly.

“Oh...God…” She moaned. Her lip caught between her teeth as her back arched off the mattress, one hand fisted in the sheets whilst the other sought out the confines of his hair, her fingers twitching against his skull as his tongue worked some sort of magic against her needy flesh.

It wasn’t long before she found herself shaky and spent, her head resting solidly against his chest as he kissed her forehead.

“I think we should finish it...together,” she whispered. The thought had been rattling around since the funeral. WIth all of Lamb’s friends gathered under one roof, Claire had been asked on numerous occasions whether his manuscript would be forthcoming and, although she couldn’t give an accurate response, she hadn’t been able to say no. “I don’t think I could do it by myself, and you have the better insight. But I would hate to see it languishing on our computers - unread.”

“When do we start?” In all honesty Jamie was excited by the prospect. It didn’t mean Claire had committed to a life in Glasgow, but it meant he would have more time to silently convince her.

“Later,” she mumbled, turning quickly in order to catch him unawares, “right now I think we have some unfinished business of our own.” Pinning him to the bed, she kissed him once on the lips, keeping him still with her hips as she began the painfully slow trip down his neck and along his chest.

-- --- --

With a fresh cup of coffee in her hands, Claire peeled open her laptop, drumming her fingers against the wood of the desk as she waited for it to load.

“So, I think we should discuss where we take this from, aye?” Jamie began, blowing the steam from his hot tea. “We’d been sort of sticking to a chronological order, ye ken from what ye’ve already read that most of the early years tales have been written, the middle too. It’s mainly the later years we have to finish off.”

“I have some of his letters, if that helps?”

Lamb, like clockwork, had written to Claire. Being caught up in her own life, she had read them -replied to a couple- though had never gone into the sort of detail he’d hoped for. But she had kept them safe, read them over and over until the ink had begun to fade from some of the pages. She had treasured them when she’d been so down that she had wanted to take him up on his offer and leave Oxford. Now, it seemed, they might be all the more useful to them.

The scent of toast wafted into the small lounge as the buzzer beeped in the kitchen. With breakfast nearly ready, she left him to finish off the food while she rushed upstairs to collect the tin. Clutching it tightly between her fingers, she placed it delicately on the table, leaving it for Jamie to open.

“He certainly covered all of his bases, didn’t he?” Jamie chuckled, taking a bite of toast and passing Claire a plate of her own. “Now we can just interpret them, I can help fill in some of the blanks and we can get a great end - something Quentin would be proud of.”

They spent the rest of the day surrounded by paper, trying to reorganise as many letters as possible, finding some semblance of an order to the stories told within them. By the time the sun was setting, the automatic lights turning on in sequence around the small room, they had already found a few that could be discarded as well as some incredibly valuable *new* anecdotes that Jamie had loosely remembered Lamb talking about but hadn’t been able to fully add to their timetable of events, not until he’d read and re-read the words a few times.

Standing, an envelope in her hands and a biro tucked neatly through her messy bun, Claire scratched her head with the end of the paper. “How long do you think this will take to finish?” She asked, knowing he might have a better idea now they’d finally completed the task of skim-reading most of the letters. “Not that I’m in a rush, of course.” A distinct red blush coated her cheeks as she smiled across at Jamie, her memories of their mornings adventures flashing before her eyes as her stomach clenched.

“Ach well, that all depends on how fast I can type.” He jested, winking -both of his eyes closing for a brief moment as his inability to do so reared its head. It looked rather like an extended blink rather than a wink which caused Claire to bite her lip as she held back her laughter.”But in all honesty I reckon we might have a good rough end in a month or two. That includes a couple of draft reads and edits.”

“Two months? Max?” A bolt of fear shot through her at the prospect of an end. After their first encounter, she had grown fond of their daily interactions. Whether it was the agonising lust that seemed to set her on fire from the inside out, or the little touches of his hand on hers as he past her on the stairs, there was something otherworldly about the way his body called to hers and the idea of another few guilt free months in his company made her heart race and her toes curl.

“What will ye do when we’re done?” The question fell from his mouth without him really thinking about it, but he could tell by the widening of her eyes that she wasn’t really sure.

In the week after the funeral, neither had really made any steps in returning to their proper routine. Jamie had made sure the shelves were stocked with good food, he had called his bosses and kept them abreast of the ever changing situation, putting their minds at ease as him and Claire had discussed some varied details of what Lamb might want in the wake of his death. Other than that, though, both had just basked in the quiet company of the other.

Claire had a few things in mind for her immediate future, she had been dreaming vividly and the more she delved into the early life of her uncle, and his days lost with her in the wilderness, the more she wanted to pen her own version of events -though she had no idea where to start.

“Maybe I’ll become like Mary Poppins,” picking up the much abused video box of the classic movie from Lamb’s shelf, she ran her finger over the front cover and smiled, “and go where the wind takes me.”

“Are ye feeling the need for an adventure now?” Tapping against one of the smaller piles, he cocked his head to the side. With the tales fresh in his mind, he could almost feel the intoxication, the lure of travel from the stories Lamb had woven into the very fabric of the paper.

“Maybe,” she sighed, a very basic plot forming in her mind, “but there’s a chance I’ll need your assistance with it.”

-- --- --

Days turned into weeks and before either of them knew it, a whole month had passed in a blur. Working day and night, powered by caffeine and the company of the other, Jamie and Claire began to put the final words down on the biography. They barely spoke of what would happen once they’d finished, but on the days she wasn’t working on Lambs memoir, Claire was thinking of her own novella.

“I think we’re ready for this version to go to the publishers now. What do you think?” Pulling his glasses from his nose and placing them beside his laptop, he stretched his legs beneath the table and suppressed a yawn.

“I agree, I think we’ve done all we can with it -- I think he’d be proud.” Gazing out of the window, the dulled glass caused the passers by to appear disjoined as they walked by. She was in a world of her own, the words swirling around her as if Lamb were here himself. His voice seemed to speak to her and it wasn’t until a flurry of activity caught her off guard and brought her out of her daydream that she realised Jamie was still talking. “C-can you repeat that, sorry…”

“I just agreed wi’ ye, he would be.” A slow smile spread across his face as she turned back to him. “He’d be so proud of you too, Claire.”

“It was a while back now, but do you remember the phone call you took for me, from Frank?”

A cold shudder ran down his spine but he nodded as he tried to hold back the vitriol. Though no more had been said about the man, he knew from the way she occasionally reacted to him that nothing good could come from her mentioning him. “Aye, I do.”

“Before you I had little to no knowledge of proper *human* relationships. I met him, Frank, in Africa when I was there with Lamb, though the two never really crossed paths. He was my first kiss and when we finally bumped into one another again back home I sort of just found myself gravitating towards him. When I was away, in the desert, in the jungle, anywhere really with Lamb he had an unconscious way about him. He kept me grounded in some way. But alone, I was useless. I was trapped, wrapped up in this elevated world hidden from mere mortals where people like Frank are completely untouchable.”

Pouring her a wee dram, Jamie walked Claire to the sofa, sitting her down before handing her the tumbler.

She took a swig before continuing. “I’m so scared.”

“Of what, lass?”

“I don’t even know!” She sighed, exasperated. “Of finishing this and having nothing. Of staying and then this turning to dust. Of going home and falling straight back into old habits - but those are the ones I know. It’s daft. I know which the terrible decision is, but you represent something infinitely worse.”

"Aye, worse am I?" He tried to joke, but it fell flat the moment the words left his mouth.

"No- harder."

"Which is it Claire?"

"I don’t know, I don't know how to explain, I’m sorry, Jamie,” she spluttered, passing the glass back, her hand shaking as she stood quickly, “I think I just need some space.” Rushing from the lounge, she headed straight up to her room and slammed the door shut.

It was the first night in a long time that she spent alone. Jamie, still shocked and flustered by her fast exit, sat for a while by himself before gathering some of his belongings and returning to his own flat for the night. Claire heard the front door slam, her hand covering her mouth as she cried almost silently. Curling up on her bed, she kept her eyes on the case she had never quite unpacked as if it’s half-filled mass was indicative of where she was always meant to end up.

There were a couple of letters she had held back from Jamie, ones that had more personal comments that she wasn’t comfortable sharing. Yet.

Morning arrived, the sun streaming in through her open blinds. She’d slept on and off and rubbed her red-rimmed eyes as she crawled out from beneath the thin blanket that she’d pulled over herself sometime during the early hours.

���Claire?”

She jumped a little, shocked that he had somehow managed to sneak back in without her hearing him. The first reply barely left her mouth, her throat dry as she swallowed and tried again. “Yes, Jamie?”

The door opened slowly, the hinges creaking as he popped his head around the wood. “I have somewhere to take ye, will you come wi’ me?”

Nodding, she plucked a piece of stray fluff from her creased jeans. “Yes, sure, can I change first?”

“Of course,” he replied, “I’ll wait downstairs.”

Quickly, she used her en-suite to wash and re-dress in clean clothes before placing her purse and notepad into her small bag. Making her way downstairs, she felt a heaviness cross her chest. He was waiting, his car keys resting between his fingers.

“Driving?”

“Aye, ready?”

“Yes.”

-- --- --

The motorway wasn’t too dissimilar from the train ride, though the sound of the wheels on tarmac were slightly more relaxing than the chug of the metal wheels against the tracks. “Do you want to tell me what surprise you have in store for me?” She tried to sound light, but somehow she still sounded worried.

“Ye’ll see.” He returned, a tight smile lifting his lips slightly.

“Have you sent the manuscript off?”

“I emailed the first PDF this morning before we left. I’ll hear soon and I’ve cc’d you into it, so ye should know the moment they respond to me.”

As they drove over each county line, a new sign popping up to indicate their direction, Claire started to feel more and more nervous. As Dumfries and Galloway came into view, she felt this almighty lump forming in her throat. Just before the Gretna junction, Jamie pulled off the motorway just as the sun peaked high in the sky. Small villages came and went until a borders train station came into view, giving her a glance at the side of a carriage as it sat quietly on the partially hidden platform.

“Will you tell me now?” She asked calmly, though she had an idea of what was about to happen.

“It isn’t due to leave for another thirty minutes,” he said, pointing at the ScotRail service idling beside them, “I’ll wait, to make sure ye get away alright, and I’ll make sure the rest of your belongings get back to Oxford safely. But I think ye might need something more than I can offer ye here.”

“You think I should go back?”

“That’s what ye’ve been thinking about, aye? Yer home. The one you’ve belonged in.”

“Home.” She mirrored, the word seeming foreign on her tongue. “What about the rest of Lamb’s biography?”

“We can email. And I can phone. It’s written, no’ much will need completing on it now.”

“...and there’s nothing for me here?” Her voice was steadily lowering, getting more inaudible as cars started to pull in and park around them.

“Only ye ken that.” Opening the car door, he gallantly walked to her side and held out his hand for her to take. “I’ll wait until yer gone, to make sure you’re safe and ye can call whenever you like.”

Finding her voice seemed impossible and she couldn’t help but replay their last conversation over and over in her head. Having confessed to him that he was the more terrifying option, she had fled and hidden in her room. Walking over to the entrance, she turned only to find him hunched over, his back facing towards her as he rested against his car bonnet. Her feet kept moving, though every step increased the stabbing pain in her chest.

Hauling himself back into the front seat, Jamie let his head flop onto the steering wheel. It was highly likely that his plan could backfire massively, but from the moment he’d mentioned the end of the book he had felt an immediate disconnect from Claire. It was fear, that much was clear, and he didn’t want to send her back to somewhere she was deeply unhappy. However, something in his gut told him that her misplaced sense of self was too fragile to be convinced to stay with words alone. At the first sign of trouble, she would run. If she wanted to stay, to make a life here with him, she needed to make this choice herself.

Sitting with her hands wrapped in her coat, Claire watched as various passengers wandered up and down the platform, the guards opening and closing the doors for them. Though it wasn’t freezing cold, she couldn’t help but feel chilled. Though she hadn’t picked up on it before, reading back through Lamb’s letters it had suddenly become clear about his intentions for her. Clearly he hadn’t voiced those opinions to Jamie but it had been silly of her to think he didn’t know of her situation in Oxford. A man in uniform raised his brows as he walked by her for the tenth time. Standing, she brushed the creases from her trousers. This wasn’t a choice between Jamie and Frank because that would have been an impossibly easy decision, but a choice between who she’d always been and a new variant of herself. As the clouds of steam cleared from the front of the train, the sight of the car sat stoically in the car park made her stumble backwards and she sighed loudly as her bottom hit the warmed wooden seat once more.

A loud horn echoed through the trees surrounding the station as the engine pulled out and disappeared off into Cumbria. As promised he waited, long enough to watch as the car park emptied and the lights dimmed in the entrance to the platforms.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he tried to calm himself enough to turn the engine on and drive away.

A knock on the window made him sit bolt upright, sweat running down his back as he twisted to see who’d disturbed his pity party.

“Claire!”

She stood, tears in her eyes as she stepped back from the car. “Take me home, Jamie, please. To Glasgow”

Taking her hand, he bought it to his lips and kissed her softly. “Aye,” he replied, watching as she sniffed, shaking her head as she made her way to the passenger side and climbed in. “Home it is.”

[adhd-sorcha]

Im trying to get into the medical field and I have a super hard time with adhd. Any advice for getting through all that schooling?

I am soooo sorry I took so long to answer this (good thing you didn’t go on anon!). I have no excuse, I’m just like this.

Before I get into anything, I just want to say that I was only diagnosed a few months ago, so I didn’t go through school consciously coming up with ADHD-busting strategies and there were definitely mysterious difficulties that I’m only now understanding but at the time I never managed to sort (*shakes fist at essay based subjects/exams*). I will tell you what I think were my accidental ADHD-helping techniques though! One other thing, I have predominantly inattentive ADHD ( or formerly ADD) so if you or anyone else are looking for tips on how to stay seated for extended periods or anything like that, I’m afraid I’m no help there. Sorry!! Also, since I don’t know what stage you’re at school-wise, I’ll include things that I found useful in secondary school too, in case it’s useful.

So, in no particular order! (this may get long...)

- Diary, diary, diary: In the schools (primary and secondary) here in Ireland you get given a diary at the start of the year. At the end of every class, the teacher writes up the homework and we copy it into our diaries. Great system!! The diary is only for school so it never needs to leave your school bag, so it should be hard enough to forget. I used to only write short notes, eg. Maths: pg 20, part a-e or something like that. It makes it easy to look through at the end of the day when collecting your books to bring home. I used to look at one line, put those books in my bag, then look at the next line. One at a time. And I often double-checked. It made me slower to get ready to leave than everyone else, but hey! I remembered my stuff! I got myself a diary for college when I moved on. They are soooo helpful. And it’s so satisfying to tick things off as you do them!!

- Have ONE school bag: Might sound weird, but I know people who, in college, just bring whatever handbag matches their outfit that day. No! You’re going to forget to transfer something over. With one bag, you can keep your school diary and pens and student card and things like that in it. They will always be in there. No need to go moving them around, they’ll only get lost if you do that. It just helps to limit the things that you have to remember to bring with you, if your bag is already kind of packed as a default.

- Take advantage of desk/locker space: Keep spare items at your desk/in your locker so that even if you forget to put them in your bag, you’re still covered. Things that I’ve kept at desks/in lockers include: spare pair of glasses, hair ties for labs, spare writing paper (so it doesn’t matter if you forgot your copy!), pens/highlighters/pencils, socks (it rains a lot here, probably not the most relevant...). Absolutely anything that you think you may be likely to forget and is safe to leave at school just keep a spare one already there! (maybe don’t leave valuables...)

- Set your timetable as your lockscreen/homescreen: I’ve never done this one personally. I kept my timetable in my diary. I find it easier to read. But, I know a few people who used to make out their timetable in Word or something and set that as the lockscreen on their phone. People tend to keep their phones somewhere that’s easy to reach, so it shouldn’t conflict too much with executive dysfunction or anything like that.

- Routine: Having a set routine can really help with getting homework done. It becomes a habit and so a certain amount becomes automatic. I used to do mine as soon as I got home from school/college. And I had a set time for when to start my work at the weekends.

- Bring the lecture slides to lectures: I assume this will vary by college, but our lecturers used to post their lecture slides to the class site before the lecture so you could bring them to class. You could either bring the pdf on a tablet/laptop or print them off. (If you’re using a tablet/laptop you can always download the notes when you get there so it’s okay if you forgot to do it before class!). I found these helpful because I only had to make note of the extra information that the lecturer said out loud or I could just highlight important words, thereby limiting the amount I actually had to write. When I just had blank paper, I was always trying to write everything for some reason and just became lost...

- Make study notes that suit you! I remember being shown in school how to make notes when studying. But I found the standard neat lines, black/blue pen that teachers wanted didn’t work for me. They were boring to look at so they were boring to use. So I made them interesting! I used lots of colourful pens, sticky notes just to create little ‘boxes’, scribbled in the margins, drew labelled diagrams instead of putting some things into words. People would actually ask from time to time how I studied from them XD Study notes are one of those things that we’re taught how to do, but there really isn’t a one size fits all approach to it, so don’t be afraid to do different things with your notes. I used mind maps to study history in school! Here’s an example of my 3rd year pharmacology notes (believe it or not there isn’t any colour-coding XD I just went with what was fun!). 

- Have a study buddy: This seriously helped me when I moved from school to college. The two girls I became friends with in first year were so much better at organising study and assignment work between lectures than I was. They’d just automatically go to the library to get stuff done between lectures so I went with them and just worked on whatever they were working on. Having them around kept me on track. We did this informally (by which I mean I’ve only recently come to realise that copying their behaviour is why I got through my first two years so well, they have no idea that that’s what I was doing XD), but you could always formalise something like this with someone. There is no shame in needing someone to help you organise your study or needing someone around to work on assignments together.  You don’t have to do education on your own.

- Have multiple study places: I know study advice normally says have one dedicated location for study, but that gets so boring. I might be able to study at my desk in my room this month but then it gets boring and I can’t study. So, I have multiple dedicated locations for study. My desk at my room, the main college library, library on a different campus. People with ADHD like novelty, so sometimes I find having a change in study scenery can help focus on work!

- ASK FOR HELP: To be fair, this is one I still struggle with myself. But honestly, so many problems can be solved so easily if you just tell someone about them. Can’t remember when that exam is happening? Ask. Don’t know how to make that application/do that assignment? Ask. What did those instructions even mean? Ask. Forget where that office is? Ask. So many educators, particularly at third level, genuinely want their students to do well, but they can’t help if they don’t know you need it. I know for myself I don’t want people to know how disorganised or confused I get so I put off asking questions, but the sooner you ask, the sooner the problem gets fixed!

- If you need to do something differently, do it differently: Before I started my leave I was starting to realise that my having ADHD meant that I would have to do things differently to my neurotypical labmates. I was going to need to write more reminders of basic things for myself and stick them all over my bench. I was probably going to generate data more slowly than them because time management and organisation is difficult for me. I was going to need to have a detailed protocol next to me at all times instead of knowing the procedure off by heart like the rest of them. The neurotypical way is not the only way. Doing something differently does not make it wrong.

- Be kind to yourself: The education system is tough enough on it’s own, but those of us with ADHD have some extra obstacles in our way. There really is no point in comparing yourself to someone who doesn’t have ADHD (or similar problems) and berating yourself for not getting as much done as them or doing something slower etc etc. Don’t let ADHD limit you by any means, just remember that the route to success looks different for different people.

I think I’ll stop it here. This is getting quite long! Like I said, I’m newly diagnosed so there are things that I’m still struggling with myself (time-management is a big one!! I am 100% unqualified to give people advice on that one!!) and the things that I have done well have been more lucky accident than anything else. I hope these are somewhat helpful? Feel free to ask anymore questions though! And I wish you the best of luck with getting into medicine!!

[trynnabemultifandom]

Ch 1|Your first day| Gavin Reed x Reader Book

Tuesday 29 February 2039 7:30 AM

Your POV

I take a deep breath in and out to calm myself. First day jitters is all. When I feel like I'm calm enough, I walk through the front doors. Upon walking up to the front desk, I see a female android sitting there managing everything. "Hello, how can I help you?" She asks me, smiling politely. "Hi, my name is Y/n L/N and today is my first day. I was wondering if you could guide me to Captain Fowler's office?" I reply. She nods "Ah yes, Detective L/N. Captain Fowler's office is right up ahead and first turn on the left. Welcome to Detroit Police Department" I nod and thank her, making my way to Fowler's office. I knock on the door and not even a second later, I hear a loud "Come in" from the other side. "Hello Captain Fowler, it's good to meet you" I say, shaking his hand and sitting down. "Detective L/N, good to meet you too. I know that today is your first day but I hope you don't mind getting straight into work" I try contain my excitement "I absolutely don't mind. In fact, I was hoping you would say that" He chuckles a little "So we have an eager worker"

Not a moment later, he calls in another person into his office. "This is getting ridiculous, Fowler I didn't even do anything this time, why are you calling me in here?" the voice says. So he's a trouble maker then, who ever he is. "I called you in here Detective Reed because you're getting assigned a new partner" I turn my head to see the source of the new voice but there is something blocking me from seeing it. "Oh no, Fowler I'm not being partnered up with one of those plastic pricks" Fowler's expression seemed to have changed from a monotone expression to an angry one "Detective Reed I will not be dealing with you attitude today. Your partner is a human being and is right behind that door. Go say hi to her, be nice and show her around!" Captain Fowler walks through the door, my new partner following behind him "Detective Y/N L/N, this is your new partner Detective Gavin Reed. Reed this is L/N, I hope that you will both get on well and have no problems, if either of you do though, come talk to me. Now get to work"

Before i could say another word, my partner Gavin stormed out and was mumbling something under his breath. I sighed but tried to remain positive about the whole situation. I follow Gavin to his desk and I see a free desk in front of his. I place my bag down and take a seat. "Fowler put me on road duty, going 'round seeing if I need to give anyone parking tickets, so that's what we're doing today." I didn't expect him to talk or even explain what we were doing, but he did "Ok" Gavin stands up and gets his keys, I presume that means we're leaving now. I slip my phone into my back pocket and follow Gavin out to his car. "Bet this isn't a fun as you wanted it to be" Says Gavin, out of the blue. I look over to him, "I wouldn't mind if a big action case came in, but this is good too"

I wanted to add on by saying we could get to know each other, but I feel like sharing information isn't really Gavin's style. "Well with the amount of androids going rogue, we might have an action case soon. Those fuckers can't seem to keep a hold on their emotions" I was about to say something before Gavin added onto what he was saying "Not that they should have any emotions" That peaked my interest "You think androids shouldn't have emotions?" I ask him. He looks me in the eye, it sent a chill down my spine "You do?" I nod "Well yeah, not only are they basically supposed to be human, so they kind of have to have or show 'emotions' but I mean, a lot of people don't like to think this way, but they're living too. Whether the androids are deviant or not, they should still be able to live free"

When I'm finished talking, Gavin had already pulled into a parking space. Gavin turned to face me "We'll continue this in the Cafe" I nod though Gavin's already out of the car. By the time I catch up to him, he was already in the queue so I just decided to grab a table. "Hey, I just went ahead and ordered you a coffee. Hope that's ok" I look up at Gavin and smile "Yeah, that's grand, thank you. To be honest, I wasn't actually expecting anything" Gavin pulls a fake shocked face "Hey, I'm mean, but I'm not that mean" We both chuckle at this. It's so weird that Gavin is actually being nice to me. Not only did he just meet me but he's never been nice to anyone before as far as I've heard. "Hey, how much was the coffee?" I ask. Gavin looks up from the table "Why?" "I want to pay you back for buying me this one" He just smiles, "If you really want to pay me back, you'll buy the next time, but now we gotta go" I nod "Ok deal"

The drive back to the station was filled with both of us quoting old vines. When we got back to the station, Gavin walked over to the breakroom. Just as I was going to follow him, Connor came up to me. "Hi Y/N. We never got a chance to know each other. My name is Connor, I'm the android sent by Cyberlife. I was sent here to help Lieutenant Anderson with any deviant cases they get. I suppose you could call me a deviant hunter" I smile "Hi Connor. Yeah, we never got a good chance to talk before now-" I was cut off by a gruff call of my name. I turn my head to the direction it came from. I see Gavin standing there with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall. I turn back to Connor "Sorry Connor, I got to get back to work" He smiles "It's quite alright Y/N, I understand" I walk over to Gavin, who's still leaning against the wall, arms crossed. "What do you want?" He scoffs "Ouch, that's harsh" I chuckle "Didn't mean for it to sound so harsh. Anyway, what is it? I was talking to Connor" His demeanour seemed to change slightly

"Oh nothing, I was just thinking that maybe we should be getting back to work, we've got quite a bit of paperwork to do, so I thought we could get a headstart on it" I nod, not fully believing what he's saying but go with it anyway. "Yeah, that's a good call. Want to get it done and out of the way now" We both sit down at our desks and Gavin gets straight to work. I get all my thing in order and try to work, but my mind keeps wandering. I can't help but think of how Gavin had changed from being an ass earlier on, to being nice. I don't want to ruin anything by asking about his sudden change, so I just decide to leave it. "Hey, Y/N, you ok?" I  turn to Gavin "Hm? Oh yeah, I'm ok" Gavin looks at me unconvinced but decides to drop it.

Time Skip

"Fowler, I'm going to be clocking out now, is there anything you need me to do before I go, because if you try call me after I leave, I'll probably be piss drunk" "Anderson you better answer your phone if I call! Connor informs me that he does have to get you from your house! I see Hank roll his eyes as he leaves "Yeah yeah whatever" I look back to my computer and look at the time . "My gosh, I didn't realise it was so late" Gavin looks over to me, "Yeah, time flies when you've got a lot of paperwork to do" I chuckle and turn off my computer, gathering all my belongings. Before I can even take a step, Gavin calls my name

Gavin's POV

What am I doing? I just met her today. I should hate her, but I don't for some reason. This is weird. I want to ask her does she want to grab some food with me, but I don't want to either give the wrong impression or get laughed at. Come on Gavin, you got this! "Do you want to maybe grab a bite to eat with me. Just we need to review the case files and I don't know about you, but if I bring them home, I will probably forget about them" I hope that was smooth enough. What the phuck is happening to me?! I need to get myself together! "Yeah, sure. I'd be absolutely hopeless and forget about the work too if I brought it home" We both chuckle. "Well let's go then, there's actually a place that's local if you want to head there" I nod "Yeah sure, sounds great. Just lead the way" What is this girl doing? She's my colleague so nothing can happen, and she's slowly moving her way in, to slowly break down my walls. Is it on purpose?

Your POV  

When Gavin asked me to go get food with him I was a bit shocked. I said yes, because if I was being honest, I was kind of hungry but also I wanted to spend time with him outside of work. I'm not too sure if he was being completely honest about getting food with me just to go over the cases, but I could be overthinking this and reading too much into it. He could be just being nice because we're partners. He probably doesn't even like me in either way. When we get out to his car he says, "Oh hey, if we get coffee, I promise I'll let you pay for it this time" I let out a laugh "Thanks. You know, I was going to get you a coffee in the breakroom and disguise it as store bought but that would just be cheating" He gasps while holding his chest "I would be so offended if you did. And here I thought our blossoming friendship meant more to you than that" He smiles to me, and I smile back. When we're sitting in the car, I can't help but go over his words in my head "I thought our blossoming friendship meant more to you than that" So maybe we are becoming friends. Maybe he does like me as a friend and not just a colleague. Now I'm excited to see how this turns out.

Ahhhhh, I'm finally finished. I think the reason why it took the length of time it did for me to finish it was the fact that it was so long and I had school work to do. But no my country is in lockdown, so I can't even go outside. I hope you liked this chapter, and sorry again that it took so long to write and upload. I'll et working on the next one, but I still have school work to do, I'll just have to maneuver this around my timetable, but there will be more chapters!!!

TUMBLR NOTE: AS I UPLOAD THE CHAPTERS TO WATTPAD, I’LL UPLOAD THEM TO TUMBLR

[atreefullofmonkiesonnitrous]

Thou Little Tiny Child

Day 12  -  Caroling

*Note that this story includes PTSD and a historical incident of mass murder against children

"This kind of torment is what comes of defying Hell to be with an angel," Crowley bemoans his fate.  Granted the torment in question would generally have been considered mild by hell's standards.  He is currently carrying enough packages that he has to use a minor miracle to keep them balanced.  He's following Aziraphale through the "Angel's Christmas Market" in Hyde Park.   The name isn't a coincidence, Aziraphale had helped get the thing started and absolutely adored it.   Given that it was less than a 10 minute walk from the flat, Crowley couldn't really beg off.  (Not so)  Secretly he's enjoying watching his angel enjoy himself, he always loves seeing Aziraphale happy.  

Still he is about to lose control of the pile of purchases, and the flat was not far away.

"Angel, I think I'm going to nip back home and drop these off.  Won't be a tick."

Aziraphale has caught sight of a stall selling churros, which are still not often to be found in London, and makes a distracted sound of agreement.  Crowley chuckles and heades off in good spirits.  The workings or mortal minds and hearts are strange enough, how much more so those of eternal beings, who have lived through all the lives of mankind.  The mind can be full of tripwires and sinkholes that catch you, even when you think you feel fine, when you are happy even.  Even the triggers can be shifting and changing.  Something as simple as an old, old carol, heard thousands of times before, can suddenly pull the world out from under unsuspecting feet.

Maybe it is all the news on the telly.  No huge prophesy needed to make humans act beastly to each other, after all.  Kids in cages all over the world, in the old places where the only change is who is on which side of the fence, Palestine and China, and places like America that seem determined to make up for the late start.  It is so hard to hear, over and over, they just never learn.  As he walks through the happy market, people celebrating obliviously or defiantly (it looks the same from the outside), he passes several groups of carolers without hearing them at all.  Somehow this song winds through the air, into his mind, and back into memories that have the dull cast of nightmare. Herod the king, in his raging,

Chargèd he hath this day

His men of might in his own sight

All young children to slay.

The bright night market fades into another long ago daytime one.  His bundles fall from nerveless hands and knees go out from under him. He hits the ground hard and there is shouting around him.  (The people shouting and running, parents clutching their children.)  There is chaos around him and he can hear running feet.  (The clatter of armor and nail studded sandals on the stone.)   He needs to get up, needs to move, there is an angelic presence nearby, hands grasp on to him.  (There is an Archangel manifest nearby, if he is caught here he might be destroyed, but he has to do something.)  He fights the grip on him, filled with terror and purpose.  He gathers himself to slid into scales and slither away.  The hands are arms now, encircling him and pinning him.  His terror is rising, there is a voice in his ear, but words have deserted him.  There is a sound like a small snap of fingers, like a crack of lighting and everything goes still.  

"...here, everything is alright.  Crowley, it's just me.  I've got you. I'm here, everything is alright. Crowley, it's just me…"  The words filter slowly into his consciousness.   Aziraphale.  Aziraphale is holding him, fingers carding through his hair, and talking to him.  He opens his eyes slowly.  They are on the bed in the flat, packages scattered around them.  He tries to remember how they got here.  They had been at the market.  Slowly memory trickles back and he groans in embarrassment.  Aziraphale's litany stops.  

"None of that, now, love," the angel admonishes.  "Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault.  You didn't do anything wrong.  You didn't hurt me or anyone else.  Can you tell me what happened?"

Crowley starts to shake his head, but he's never really been able to deny Aziraphale anything.  "I honestly don't know if I can.  I'll try.  It was just a song.  I've heard it thousands of times.  I've sung it.  But this time…"  He shakes his head.  "It just threw me back.  Happens sometimes.  I've been there for a lot of terrible things, we both have."

"And it was a carol that brought this one back?"

"Remember you told me to get out, after He was born.  Whole place was going to be crawling with angels."

"I do remember," Aziraphale says softly.  Crowley nods and licks his lips.

"I was about to leave when Hastur showed up.  Said something was up,  whole lot of killing about to happen, but hell wasn't happy about it.  Mostly kids.  Hell doesn't like killing kids, they're still innocent, go straight up."  He gestures upwards and makes a shhwwwoooP sound.  "They thought maybe Heaven was moving up their timetable, skipping all the miracles and teaching bits and going straight for the sacrifice.  Wanted me to take a look.  Didn't get very close though, Gabriel was already there, getting them out.  But that was it.  Just them snuck out, no help for any of the rest of the people.  Got a kid the same age?  Too bad for you.  It's fine though, going to heaven right?  So no matter if they don't get a life."  He scoffs and Aziraphale winces, it's an accurate representation of heaven's attitude.

"Found a cave under an abandoned house.  Managed to get a few families down there.  Not enough, not nearly enough.  But the streets were full of soldiers by then.  Couldn't risk moving anyone else.  Got them hidden deep inside then just lay in the sun across the doorway.  Nobody in there!  Clearly the lair of a bloody great snake.  Should probably do something about that later.  Not safe around the kids (at least the ones we don't kill today).  The streets were full of people running, screaming, dying.  It's amazing that such little bodies can hold so much blood.  And all I could do was lay there and watch and listen.  Protect the few I had grabbed."

Aziraphale's arms are still around him, holding him tightly.  "You did more good for those people than Heaven.  Because you see them as people, not as assets waiting to be divided.  I think you are the only other one that does, heaven certainly doesn't.  I love you so much, my dear."  

"Hell doesn't either, but leastways Heaven leaves them be, once they get there.  Maybe they are right.  Maybe if Hell ended up with them, I didn't do those kids any favors after all."

Aziraphale shakes his head.  "Not to harp on free will, but they have to make their own choices.  Isn't that why She set this up in the first place?  I know how you feel about ineffability, and I'm not saying it's a choice that anyone ever ought to have to make, but you gave them a chance. What they did with it was their choice."  

"Still.  What good is saving them now, if they only suffer so much more later?"

"The good  is doing what you can, my dear, and giving them the world, while they have it.  The rest is, well, for tonight let us say the rest is a problem for later.  You are too tired for it now, and nothing is changing while you rest."

He frees one arm to pull back the covers on the bed and manovers them both under them without letting go.  Once they are under the covers a miracle rids them of their clothing till they are pressed warm skin to chilled, and soft fingers in his hair and loving words in his ears lull Crowley to rest, his angel set to guard his dreams.    

for @drawlight‘s 31 Days of Ineffables, day 12 Caroling

thanks to @waywren for the beta

[inexchangeforyoursoul]

Hello, hello, here’s my piece for the Halloween minibang organized in courtesy of the Chicken Tendies and Bacon Bits DabiHawks server~ and have the link to a more sensible reading experience (as t gets rid of formatting, too, and I’m lazy to put it all back in, at least for now): ao3

I was paired up with pineapple hair boy (dunno his url still rip) and our promt was haunted maze! \o/ I kinda included the other two we were gunning for, devil deal and ghost stories, so... multitasking, yo. Also put in my suggested fog, because as time passed, I realized how good it was even though I just put something into the box lmao

I’ll link pineapple’s accompanying piece as soon as they’re done with it, right here, in this line!! AND HERE IT IS!!!  👀

(Some of you may note... that I was supposed to be the artist. Well, it’s a long story, and likely on me tbh; I spent p much the entire week working on my piece, but I also started writing this one, and suggested doubling down on content, but unfortunately timetables are evil, and pineapple got mobbed enough as to likely run out of time if he also wanted to finish writing, so, um... yeah. This is not to say that we won’t do our original project, though, so stay tuned for the bonus round, hopefully soon! \[T]/)

(... also, I may or may not be considering to make this a full story, so there’s that)

Keigo trips for what feels like the millionth time on this way through the undergrowth- by day, the manor labyrinth is fairly easy to navigate, the kids frequenting it has kept it threadable. Nobody has legitimately tended to it for years, though. Or rather a decade, actually, it’s been a while he was here. Honestly, who cares, because--- oh, for fuck’s sake, more rose or blackberry or whatever vines to untangle his legs from. Great. Just… great.

He squints at his watch; still on time. Catching his breath after getting free surprisingly fast this time around, he takes a look at his surroundings. Not that he sees much, bear you. It’s near midnight and pitch dark. To top it off, the thick-ass fog often present, source: right damn here, has also crept into town. In fact, this is the worst it has gotten this year yet. There’s also barely anything he can hear from the dying-off autumn festival two streets and half an estate over.

It’s only him, his phone's flashlight, and the camera around his neck that also keeps getting caught in shit. That, and his own breathing that's getting his lungs numb from all the cool, wet air they are being exposed to.

Fooling around for so long has made him feel… antsy. Just a bit. The fact that his goal, that is to say the family crypt of the moneybags who used to live here is so close doesn’t help, either.

The entire plot is the stuff of local legends. The mansion is-was infamous for its… flammability, so to speak. Every few years, at least one room got totalled. Some believed that the last master had been a pyromaniac, up till the umpteenth house fire snuffed his line, and himself at the age of 60-something, out for good. But old folk said that the building had been ablaze just as frequently before his time- and truth to be told, there had been two more fires ever since, although those could have been the aforementioned kids or the occasional squatter. Two fires in about ten years is pretty normal in an abandoned place like this.

A few of those old people said the mansion had been built on hallowed grounds in their parents’ time, and the fires were punishment for disturbing the church ruins and the dead it used to house. Even fewer said the church must have been built on the very gates of hell and the ruins had kept the flames at bay.

And old geezer Giran in particular said that you could see the devil himself on the night when spirits roam free, around where the isolated belfry’s foundation stands still with walls crumbling- the place around which the crypts were erected on top of upturned graves. To be frank, the dude himself looked as if he escaped from hell, so what better myths to bust as an aspiring photographer? And even if the devil won't drag his ass outside, this will still make one hella Halloween photoshoot. He has loads of candles and some lampions in a backpack to get the mood right as well.

If anything remotely threatening pops up, though, like a mean stray dog… or a horde of drunk homeless, he's so ready to run for the hills, you have no idea.

He’s pricking his ears good as he closes in on the center of the once-upon large cemetery. One has to acknowledge the effort those rich bastards put into this dumb maze layout just to hide their own dead. It’s as if they feared a zombie apocalypse and concluded that they wouldn’t be able to get out if the hedges grow in a pattern, like, seriously. Then again, if the ‘horde of drunk homeless’ situation comes true, it will feel and work just the same, so who’s he to judge.

The scenery, too, is something to behold still. The entire area is surprisingly… not very foggy. One can see just as far as there is anything relevant to see, nothing more, nothing less. The waning moon even came out to play for a bit, shedding some decent light on his surroundings.

What catches his attention is not the excellent lighting to make photos, though, but rather someone sitting on the ruins of the old belfry, right under where the plump planet is working her magic.

He checks the display of his watch again- two past midnight. He’s late. Well, bummer… maybe next time.

That… guy, though? He doesn't look like any devil he knows of, but rather a human figure. One he also doesn't know of, actually. Which is remotely more interesting than Satan himself, because… that’s a goth silhouette if he’s ever seen one, and he’s seen all in town. All three of them.

They are a chill bunch, so he figures he might as well go up to this one. May be an acquaintance of Tokoyami and company’s who was also told about this spooky deal.

"Hey. Have you seen the midnight devil, or did he not get the memo this year?" He lifts a hand over his eyes to let him have a clearer look.

Just the way the other looks over to him, even while slouching quite a bit, is in a manner that’s nothing bar… uh… majestic, should be the word? Sublime? Yeah. That's peak cinematography. He’s… a bit at a loss of words here, because? People have waxed lyrical about the positively blessed relationship between him and sunlight, but this guy?? Has legitimately the most beautiful pair of eyes ever, period???

Before he could get too entranced by the sight of the sky blue pins of the overshadowed figure sitting between a moonlit sky and milky deep sea of mist, he notices that said eyes skim over him. Slowly, creeping down, and then up. Um…

Did… did he just check him out?

A hardly concealed grin can be heard out of his voice as he speaks up. “Hey there, angel."

… that's a yes.

This… coming from someone with eyes and a voice like… that, is actually… hm.

Like, look… he’s been looking forward college to maybe…  find someone he genuinely clicks with. But he has been through this immediate infatuation thing a hundred times already… and knows from experience that falling for mere potential is a grave mistake. What even are the chances that he’ll be the one? Put the aesthetic boner away and think rationally, Keigo. You don’t even know his name.

However, if, and IF he plays his cards well and this is not a total asshole… he could get both a photoshoot and a phone number out of this endeavor, which sounds like an excellent deal.

“Straight to the point, eh?” he acknowledges with a grin that's almost genuine. “Witching hour stuff aside, I don’t think I’ve seen you around…? A friend of Tokoyami’s?”

The other hops off the wall as he’s talking, stirring up some fog. Keigo could swear to hear absolutely nothing upon him hitting the ground. Must be the grass, but still, confirmed for cat. Not having to deal with the moon’s flare, he can now also tell that he’s about as old as expected.

The young man pauses to think for just a second before walking up to him. Nonchalance and weariness mingle in his steps.

“No, but I think I do know who you’re talking about. The kid with the raven.”

“Oh? Yeah, that’s him. Just visiting, then?” So he’s somewhat familiar with the area. Huh… how in hell did he never notice someone so obvious? Maybe he should come out here more often.

Also, is it just him, or did it get really cold all of a sudden?

“Him and his friends spend a lot of time here, I know enough. And yeah, something like that.”

As he stops in front of Keigo, an odd sensation trickles down his spinal cord, raising every hair on his nape. He’s had this once or twice when watching a legitimately good horror movie or catching a glimpse of an especially beautiful scene, or at least something very similar. It’s just the cold and being out in the middle of nowhere with a handsome stranger this time (which is kind of a combination of both), but still.

… this is not the time to be thinking ‘but what if he’s a serial killer and you are stuck out here with him alone’, brain. Thanks.

“Family business, gotcha.”

He’s onto something, because a certainly troubled look flashes over the hot--- the goth’s face as he reaches up to his own nape to rub away at it. “... yeah. That.”

The train of thought is seemingly swept out of the way after short consideration and his attention returns to Keigo. His neutral staring face is actually a little unnerving, no lie. “What about you, coming out here? Didn't quite catch what you first said.” He eyes him in a way similar to when he was sitting up on the wall, as if measuring him up.

“Oh, I wanted to take some photos,” Keigo starts, lifting the camera and the first candle he can grab from the bag, swinging it playfully around a few times with a smile to mask the nerve building up inside. “I figured it would be a nice opportunity even if the hearsay tale of the ~devil~ coming out at midnight was total humbug. This place is very atmospheric.”

What he says rouses a chuckle from the other. “Oh, so I wasn't imagining things. Been a while since I last heard that one.”

For someone deadpan he really has a cute smile. We are on a schedule here, but please never stop?

Keigo presses the tip of the candle into his cheek in contemplation, trying to steer his thoughts back on topic. “You mean, that local legend thing? I heard about it fairly recently… from the most suspect old dude." He rolls back and forth on his heels, watching out for reactions; "Giran, if the name is telling. But asking other old folks made them ring a bell, too, so I guess I was just ignorant.”

The other raises an eyebrow in amusement as the fading smile pulls into a smirk. "Maybe you are, a little bit."

Oh, come on. "Nobody is born cool, wise, or a folklore expert, okay…?" He pouts.

"I could already tell you were born without a trace of those things, alright."

"..."

He just said that. Looking him dead in the eyes.

Wow.

Dude's lucky his smile is cute, because that was so uncalled for and he's way too proud of himself. Sheesh. Anyway…

"Said the one who wouldn’t know manners if they hit him in the face…” He sighs. "Before we go down the name calling path, though… I’m Keigo." This was getting a little awkward without throwing it in, although he doubts the cocky asshole deserves it.

“Touya. My pleasure.”

Keigo hums as he moves to rummage through his stuff for the lighter he definitely threw in the bag before setting off. That’s not a very common name, but… “I think I’ve heard of you before…? Beats me where, though.” He’s pretty sure the conversation happened years ago by the crypt here, though.

Everything he says seems to amuse the other to no end. “It’s probably for the best. You seem like the type to run for the hills.”

Keigo gives him the side eye; being right aside, the hell is that supposed to mean…? And he’s so smug about it, too. About everything, really.

And no, it really wasn’t a line even remotely connected to serial killers, shut up, brain.

“Cryptic, are we?” he sighs, lighting the candle with a flickering click at last. The gentle flame sheds some dim, fog-broken light onto Touya’s face, and Keigo hates himself for being charmed by what he sees once more. That pale skin looks too perfect to be true… should feel like silk under one’s touch. If he ever gets a proper close-up look, he swears he’ll get a heart attack.

Touya blinks once, resetting his expression to nearly a default. “It's the two of us in a haunted, abandoned graveyard, inside a fog ridden maze, on the night after the 31st of October. You are basically begging to wind up dead. Coming off as cryptic and creepy as possible right now is elementary, angel.”

He… he legitimately can’t argue with that. The guy's almost as good at this as the bird kid is. “... touché.”

Stunned for words, he places his candle where planned instead. It's so stupid, but makes… so much sense. Is this why they all are like… that?

As he moves on like that without a word, Touya seems to get weirded out himself. "... You okay there?"

"I just had… an epiphany." He says, putting the first lampion with pinpoint precision. This guy just accidentally revealed some kind of arcane goth knowledge too advanced for him to begin to understand and doesn't even know it.

Touya heaves a deep sigh. "... you obviously got the wrong one out of that, but congratulations nonetheless."

“Maybe? I have not the foggiest what you were trying to imply.” He’s not that thick, but the dude’s being ~cryptic~ or whatever, and he’s not in the mood to write an essay on what edgy goths mean by what they say.

“Ah… figure that's why it's so clear out here this year… all the mist from the glade must have relocated to your head.” concluding that, Touya’s eyebrows pull closer upon seeing whatever else the blonde pulls out from his backpack while shooting a glare in his direction. “… what are those for?”

Keigo considers not answering at all, but decides against it. Being the bigger person by default is such a chore sometimes, but… “There’s some decent moonlight to work with, but these umbrellas help me get the little extra I need right where I want it. See?” With that, he turns the flashlight on and blinds the other with the sudden brightness.

“Ow, seriously?! I haven’t seen daylight in decades, turn that shit off…!”

… but, he can multitask and still be an asshole while answering the question. And laugh at the reaction, then laugh some more the decades comment as the other rubs his eyes, because he positively has the looks of a display-tanned indoor hermit. A hermit who is having a bad time.

“Wanna help, or would you rather brood somewhere the umbrellas won’t be able to reach you?”

A mechanical click can be heard in the distance; now that there’s no music playing in the streets, the bad (and always slightly ahead of time) clocktower bell can be heard signalling quarter past midnight. This seems to catch Touya’s attention and remind him of something as he stares into a nondescript spot for a while. At the very least, Keigo is certain he’s not thinking about the question that slipped out and which he will regret- if he says no, it’s gonna be the disappointment… if yes, then it’s because of all the things that will definitely go wrong.

“... well, it’s not as if I had no time to kill,” comes the apathetic answer a few seconds later, although the wrinkling eyebrows are telling of his misgivings regarding the idea.

“...”

Now, hold on… hold on, he may have an even worse idea that he’s definitely going to regret…

Keigo taps his pointing fingers against the camera anxiously. “Actually… say, what would it take for youuu… to be my model tonight?” He takes out his best puppy eyes as he looks over to him with the tiniest smile, blinking slowly.

It’s as if Touya had another light induced migraine immediately. He looks almost disgusted, which… is hilarious. “For that I'll take both your life savings and your soul.”

Keigo stifles both a giggle and a sigh at that, resulting in somewhat of a snort. He must be put off by those umbrellas quite a bit. "Really…? If that’s all, fine by me."

The answer brings back Touya to a much more reserved, if not vaguely sceptical stance. “You… sure are ready to jump the gun for that, huh.”

"Well I, too, am asking a bit much of you out of nowhere, aren’t I?” He asks, shrugging. “I figured it was worth asking, at the very least… you fit the mood a little too perfectly, one doesn’t get an opportunity like this every day. If all it takes is my birdie bank, that’s fine by me. … We can also talk about the soul part later if you want to.” It takes him every ounce of self restraint not to throw in a wink at the end.

“...” Touya stares in contemplation before taking a deep sigh and scratching his head. "Fine. I guess it’s going to be much less bothersome than posing for hours to have a portrait painted."

Keigo’s ears perk up at that. Like, a lot. "Y---you… there's a portrait?!"

Whaaa?!? A professional-ass painting, of him?? And, even more importantly, where?!?

"... I know what you're thinking of, and no, I have not the slightest idea. Who knows, maybe it even burned along with---" he cuts himself off right there. For the first time that night, he seems upset, or rather angry; whichever it may be is the strongest emotion the blonde has seen him display in these past minutes, affecting even him quite a bit. His hairs stand alert once more--- but the sentiment goes as it came, along with Touya’s stifled ire.

"... never mind. Let’s just… get on with this."

"..." He figures that being nosy would be straight-down rude, having just met and already asking for quite a bit… so he lets it slide as if nothing happened.

Keigo turns around to the lampion that he placed before the convo started.

Huh… that’s weird.

He doesn’t remember lighting it.

Overall, Touya seems to pay quite a bit of attention to what he's doing, visibly taking mental notes of the processes he goes through. First, it's a little embarrassing to be watched so closely, but eventually Keigo gets used to it and just does his thing. He soon finds himself in the zone, in fact. Hell knows how much time goes by as he keeps clicking away, barely even instructing, but rather just basking in whatever the other does, giving the okay to everything. He’s not even bothered by the bone cutting cold that’s now heightened by a breeze, because Touya seems to be a natural, and by god, does his presence do things to him. He’s had phases of architecture, mixed media with cutouts and shadow play, birds, and abandoned places, but this… this must be what finding a muse feels like.

When he's looking for the misplaced lighter for the hundredth time again, it's already shoved into his face.

"You should just keep this in your pocket, angel."

"Ah, thanks." He takes it, then turns to Touya sheepishly while pulling his jacket tighter as the light wind blows especially cold air down his collar. "I've been… stupidly quiet for a while. It must be really awkward, uh… am I really not bothering you?"

"It's fine. I like having the company."

Maybe his voice is softer than before… or maybe he’s just imagining things.

“I, uh--- same.” Keigo feels blood creeping to his face, so he quickly moves on; “I have enough of these candles left for like about one more location. Any ideas?”

It takes Touya only a second of consideration before he nods towards the belfry ruins.

He flashes a smile; “Gotcha.”

In barely 10 more minutes, Keigo is speeding through the hundreds (whoops?) of photos he’s taken, walking circles around the ruin. His breath hitches over the one where Touya looked directly into the camera right by the wall. He’s gonna frameit and putitonhiswardrobedoor andmmmakeit his ppphone wallpaper---

He can hear a chuckle behind him, and remembers that whoopsie daisy, he’s not alone. “You're pleased as punch over a few pictures… It’s adorable.”

Keigo gets red to the eartips this time around, realizing that he’s got that goofy-ass smile Rumi keeps teasing him for. Unfortunately for him, once it gets pointed out… it always sticks. “I’tsjustthat---…!! I… didn’t think I’d get such nice photos at all? Moody scenery is nice and easier to sell, but I prefer lived-in spaces and models, anything that feels alive. Especially when they’re so pret...ty. Patient.”

Someone kill him.

“...”

The thin eyebrows twitch the smallest amount and for a torturous, silent pause Keigo wishes for some kind of deity to strike him down and grant a merciful, immediate death.

“I suppose I’ve had a few years to put some patience practice under the belt.”

He fights the urge to run away crying. There’s no way anybody exists who wouldn’t see right through that… at least he gets to see that cute smile once more.

He forces one on, too. “... I can tell.”

The wind starts picking up, distracting the other. Touya takes a look up to the moon, which has made quite some progress on its route since they’ve been there. Then there’s three clicks echoing through the night, signalling that it’s nearing 1 a.m. “Well… you were babbling about showing me, too, so you better hurry. I don’t have much time left.”

Keigo snaps out of the shameful frustration only to be legitimately ashamed. “Oh… sorry, I… hadn’t even considered that you had other business tonight.” Shit. He just assumed he had all night, but Touya was just humoring him until he had other business.

The other shakes his head. “It’s no issue, just get your fidgety ass over here already.”

As he makes his way over to him, Keigo feels something grab onto his leg and the familiar itch of thorns scratching up skin through his jeans.

Fucking vines again.

He should have expected this, shouldn't he. As he stumbles forward, he sighs in immediate acceptance.

He would have never expected being caught, though.

Nor Touya’s hands being as cold as a frozen piece of meat that can be felt even through his jumper and jacket. His touch sends shivers down his spine, freezing him in surprise first; if the strap didn’t get caught around his arm, the camera would hit the ground as his hand loses its hold on it.

What he’s definitely not ready for, however, is the arctic chill radiating from every inch of Touya’s, the same icy presence that he’s been feeling ever since… since he got close.

The thing that makes him break into cold sweat and brings even the blood in his veins to a halt, however, is the pair of forget-me-nots staring into his soul from mere inches.

Those beautiful, blue eyes, that… that are glassy and clouded and definitely not… human.

His lips part, but the scream dies off in his throat.

The realization flashing in his eyes draws a lenient, gentle smile onto the pale face. “You’re slow, angel.”

Keigo's paralyzed in what he can only guess is sheer terror, his body's last resort in hopes that the threat will just leave if it's not interesting enough to investigate. His mind, however, is racing and panicked as his inevitable end leans in for the kill.

Fuck.

Fuck, he's… dead.

He's dead, he's dead, he's dead---

He’s dead.

At least, that’s what he remembers thinking before passing the fuck out… not knowing who exactly he was referring to anymore. Because he feels positively not alive when waking up on the belfry’s cold ground, on the patch of concrete that lay behind where the catafalque used to be, surrounded by what remained of the candles and lampions he had brought along, and some of the flowers that people decorate graves with.

The spot where everyone suspected a former hidden path… or another grave.

He turns around, because now he remembers where he last saw the name Touya- it’s barely legible, but there it is, crudely chiselled into the stone right above the grey ground.

At first he supposes that the cold, empty feeling that seeps through his entire being must be the nasty cold and pneumonia he gets after the deed. As the days go by, however… the shivers and cold sensation persist and his dreams are plagued by endless mazes, fires, and haunting, blue eyes all the time.

His second guess for the cause of it is lingering fear: on the camera, he finds creepy photos of himself lying in the grave once he gets better. When going through them all, he considers to delete the ones he took of the other or use them for digging, (there’s no fucking way he actually hung out with a ghost, is there?) but… they all pop up as vaguely distorted landscapes, with light spots where a pair of eyes may or may not be.

Having stared blankly for like an hour at the one he really liked back then, he throws the camera into the corner of his armchair and doesn’t touch it for weeks.

This carries on through winter, in spring, and he's convinced of how badly he fucked up when even in the suffocating summer heat he feels the veil of an icy embrace.

Once leaves start catching rust again, the chill makes his bones ache, much like they did after the encounter. And it only gets stronger by the day. He hasn't shown the pictures, developed or otherwise, to anyone. Somewhere down the line he figured… that he should just give him the photos and trade them back for his soul, because hell if that dementor did not help himself to it right along with the kiss he definitely got but doesn’t remember. Trauma alone cannot possibly cause this.

It's midnight again. This time, he's already there, waiting for the toll of the distant church bell they had fixed and reset sometime in spring. The autumn fog is as thick as ever.

His grip tightens on the envelope; deals like this are notoriously hard to break or undo. Hell, the guy agreed to have the photos taken, creating a nice little loophole. Whether he printed them, deleted them all or whatever might be a moot point.

… no. No, he can't start thinking about this right now, if he comes he'll get this thing annulled, get his damn soul back---

As the last gong dies off in the night, a pair of lean arms slink around his aching chest and pull him against a body so cold it's scalding his skin.

"Hello again, angel," greets the voice, sounding a hundred times sweeter than he remembers.

…

Or maybe… he'll just let him keep it forever.

[pegasusuakbileti-blog]

Vacation Promotions - Acquiring The most From the Vacation Reductions

skyscanner

You will find a lot of reasons why firms give lowered, or discounted vacation discounts, starting from flights, up to packages which contain quite a few parts, all inclusive in a single selling price.

skyscanner

1 with the major factors for travel offers would be the unsold sites. Levels of competition may perform a part in even more reductions in record price ranges.

Right before providing you with a complete listing of tricks to obtain the greatest journey specials and discounts, I would like to indicate you a incredibly uncomplicated but good technique that you just can use very much in most locations and for some services and products.

I have used the technique all over the place it works so well it is just about unbelievable. But it is so uncomplicated that you may dismiss it with out hoping. I want you to definitely be mentally geared up and be prepared to give it a attempt, so in this article we go.

To obtain a reduction or maybe a bargain in most sites, even inside of a significant class boutique or even a significant road store, what you need to have to try and do is: "ASK". Yes, just "ask". But additionally I need you to recall, because they say, "... it's not that which you say, but the way you say it ..." that actually counts.

So, to get a reduction, you must continue to keep your intention to 'buy' to on your own till you're ready to make your payment. You must constantly seem like you might be not certain nevertheless and that in the event the revenue particular person would not "do better" "he will lose" the offer. But you need to also look reasonably intrigued or else the revenue human being will assume you're not major and thus he won't try to sweeten the offer for yourself.

Alright, so how do you need to do most of the earlier mentioned? Effortless which is how I've done it for journey offers all of the approach to purchasing just 2 shirts at an up market men's boutique - certainly for just two shirts:

* I get data around the different alternatives (be it journey bargains or shirts).

* I determine what I would like but will only - which will be the extremely essential aspect - tell the income individual about a part of what I need. So I may show curiosity in only a single shirt or maybe a vacation for two men and women and never four.

* I check with all my queries and display that it's precisely what I would like (therefore the profits person understands he virtually has sale) but ...

* I indicate that I am not delighted along with the cost. As an example I may have viewed a little something identical less expensive elsewhere. Or which i am well prepared to buy groceries all over (all sales men and women know, if the buyer walks out they typically will likely not come back). Or that i contain the money (you'll see why following) but had not prepared on shelling out that substantially.

* I allow the profits human being attempt to 'sell me the IDEA' that it's Okay to get the products. From time to time, they supply some cost-free products (e.g. a set of socks or tickets to get a gallery or some demonstrate though on holiday getaway). Then I 'ask' with the price reduction but make it clear which i will certainly purchase should they give me the price reduction. This is certainly how I 'ask' ...

* "Look I'll certainly just take it at $X". The income human being then states "... and that means you want $Y from the selling price?!". They could inform you they do not typically give a discount beyond the profits period, etc. Should they are quite assured about not providing bargains, I then say "ok, I'll just take 2 shirts ... this just one and ... that just one, provided that you give me them at $Z for both equally ...".

* At this stage the income human being could even say he has not the authority to offer reductions. No challenge, I request them to talk for their manager. I have done this many times and get this: 90% with the time the manager agrees towards the lower price. With the remaining 10% at the very least half enough time, the manager presents me a counter low cost that is a not as good as what I questioned for but nonetheless really superior.

Do you want to understand the type of discount rates I have experienced? Effectively, on two shirts value $62 I obtained $22 off. That may be all-around 35%! Over a vacation deal really worth all around $4,300, I bought about $600 off but hold out for it ... I also obtained an up grade from the deluxe room to your small business suite while in the exact same five star resort. That suite was well worth $800 per night time and the deluxe space was truly worth $250 for every evening!

I'd to explain the above facts at size but all that I did was to screen that i 'WILL' buy with a discount. They realized all they'd to carry out was only one thing: give me a discount, so they did it. I manufactured it, as they say, "a no brainer" for them.

Briefly just "ask" but (a) be sensible (let them produce a tiny profit, never talk to for 80% off) and (b) have a minor overall flexibility for a backup prepare (be ready to explain to them that you're going to get extra, e.g. 2 shirts or possibly a holiday getaway for 4. Hey, even the profits men and women prefer to think they may have acquired a concession form you ... it's not necessarily a one-way avenue).

This technique operates for nearly all the things but will also works particularly effectively for travel bargains far too. So allows get back to a lot more suggestions particular to travel discounts then.

Journey bargains, discounts and bargains are all around you mainly because we all journey frequently and repeatedly for vacations also as for enterprise and of course the vacation marketplace competes for our bucks. Even so, some investigation and getting alert to travel discounts can indicate extra considerable savings. This is how to spot and acquire the very best vacation specials:

* Booking as early as possible usually entitles you to some vacation low cost.

* If you are shopping for a lot more than a person ticket, an extra journey lower price is possible.

* Be adaptable. In some cases weekend flights is often more cost-effective than weekdays (a lot less business enterprise travellers).

* Flights departing later at nighttime is often less costly.

* Dependent with your timetable, look at indirect flights, which just take for a longer period, but are in all probability cheaper, instead of immediate flights.

* Travelling in addition to peak durations, these as colleges holiday seasons and community holidays will probably be heaper.

* Most of the time, holiday getaway offers are more affordable than acquiring the components separately.

* Compare charges on the web, by mobile phone, or visit personal vacation agents inside the significant street.

* As all airways overbook, consider using a afterwards flight which generally includes sweeteners in the airline within the form of further more travel special discounts, and vacation vouchers.

* It might even be possible to vacation on 'stand by', but it really signifies that you'll be termed with quite small recognize

* If you are lucky, it might be possible to travel as a 'courier'. Some companies will pay, or subsidise your airfare in return for carrying critical offers and letters.

* Obtain travel insurance plan that finest fits your situations. In case of emergencies it'll save you lots of revenue.

The more effort and time you devote, the higher journey promotions you are going to bag. In several cases the saving can be pretty sizeable. A great deal so that you may be able to include on extra times keep. Happy vacation promotions.

[catchester]

RULE | Chapter One

Blurb: Loki won at the end of Avengers and imposed his rule on the people of Earth. Now Thor has returned to free humanity from his tyranny . . . only the humans don't seem very keen on that idea.

Former anti-Loki terrorist, now Loki's fiancé, Rhiannon, meets Thor and his warriors and attempts to show him the improvements that Loki has made to society. Can Thor put aside his prejudices, or will he ruin all the good Loki has done under the guise of freeing the Earth?

Chapter One

Present Day

Rhiannon watched as the beam of light hit Trafalgar Square and after sharing a look with the guards on either side of her, she took a deep breath, plastered a smile on her face, and prepared to greet their guests.

“I am Thor of Asgard,” a voice boomed before the light of the bifrost had even dimmed. Just in case everyone hadn’t noticed the giant beam of light, the lightning strike hitting his hammer a moment later, along with the accompanying thunder, ensured that hardly a soul in greater London failed to notice his arrival. “I have come for the traitor, Loki! Where is he?”  

“Oh crap,” Rhiannon sighed, her smile falling away.  

The passers-by were crowding around the arrivals, jeering and this being a busy metropolis like London, the crowd quickly swelled. 

“Help me make a path,” she said to her two guards as people began throwing things, and they helped her push through the crowd to the middle where Thor and his friends were waiting.  

“Everyone, please,” she turned her back to Thor, trusting her guards to literally watch her back while she addressed the crowd.  

The crowd quieted almost immediately.

“Nothing is going to happen to Loki, you can go about your business safe in the knowledge that Loki invited his brother here, and all is well in the House of Friggason.” 

The people now just looked confused and curious.  

“Please do not jeer our honoured guests.” She ducked as a coffee cup sailed past her and judging from the startled grunt she heard behind her, hit found its target. “Or throw things at them.” She lowered her voice and tried injecting some warmth. “Remember the uncertainty you felt when Loki became our leader, and try to understand that our visitors know nothing of how life on Earth has changed in the past eight years. Be kind to them.”

There were some murmurs from the crowd, but mostly they just seemed curious now, and eager to see what was going to happen.  

Rhiannon turned back to the Aesir. 

“Prince Thor,” she bowed but not particularly low. “Welcome to Earth.” She stood upright and kept her gaze on Thor, ignoring for the moment the Warriors Three and Sif, who had accompanied him.  

“Where are the others we travelled with,” Thor demanded, “the Einherjar?” 

“Loki does not wish to fight with you, Thor. He couldn’t allow you to bring your soldiers here, but he allowed your friends through. He hopes that you will show patience and allow me to show you how well the Earth is doing.” 

Thor looked around and saw a world much like the one he’d had come to when he was banished to Earth by Odin, except no one here was looking kindly at him now.  

“Where is Loki?” Sif demanded, stepping forward. 

“I’ll take you to him. I’m Rhiannon, by the way, people generally call me Rhi or Ray.” She held her hand out and after a hesitation, Thor shook it. “These are my friends, Sarah and Peter.” 

“Guards, more like,” Sif murmured.  

“True,” Rhiannon nodded. “Loki insisted, I’m afraid, but we all know that human guards could do little against Aesir warriors.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Rhiannon,” Thor butted in to ease tensions. “These are my friends, Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun, and the Lady Sif.” 

Rhiannon bowed her head at each as Thor pointed them out. “Very pleased to meet you all, I’ve heard much about you. If you’ll come this way, I’ll take you to Loki.”  

She turned and walked away, her guards staying close but not crowding her. The crowd parted for them and slowly began to disperse, although all eyes remained on them.  

Thor followed after her but he was clearly nonplussed. 

“I’m a little confused by events,” he admitted, falling into step beside her.  

“I’m sure,” she smiled. “I’ve arranged lunch not far from here, so we’ll have plenty of time to chat.”  

“Why did my army not come through the portal?” he asked again.  

“Loki’s magic has been keeping you off Earth, or Midgard, as you call it. When he decided to let you visit, we thought it best not to allow the Einherjar as well. We don’t want to start another war, and I’m afraid humans would be sadly out matched by your people.”  

“You speak as if you would fight for Loki.”  

“Did you not hear those people when you first arrived?”  

“It was a trick, some kind of mind control. Loki clearly has you all in his thrall!”  

“No.” Rhiannon smiled and shook her head. “When Loki first arrived, there was much resistance. I was a part of it, and I tried to assassinate him on many occasions, but over time it became clear that he wanted what was best for the Earth.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Thor challenged.  

“I don’t expect you do, but a lot has happened in the eight years you’ve been gone.” She stepped up to a door and opened it. “Please, after you.”  

Thor strode into the restaurant and looked around. “Where is Loki, I thought you were taking us to him?”  

“I am, but I didn’t say he would be joining us for lunch. Loki is in Europe at the moment, and we will be joining him there.” 

They were shown to a table and all sat down.  

“If Loki knew we were coming, why not open a portal to his location?” Volstagg asked.  

“Because I advised him not to,” Rhiannon explained. “From everything he’s told me about the Aesir, you’re a ‘hit first and ask questions later’ kind of people. I and others knew you wouldn’t believe anything Loki had to say, so we advised him to be elsewhere when you arrived. I volunteered to come and meet you, then as we journey to him, you can see for yourself how happy we are under his rule.”  

“No, it’s a trick,” Fandral said, but with a slight smile on his face, as though he expected Loki to pop out yelling ‘Surprise!’

“There is no trick,” Rhiannon assured them, looking to Sarah and Peter who nodded in agreement. 

“Honestly, life is way better now,” Sarah agreed.  

“And our wages have gone up like 70%. I think the average wage increase is about that too.” 

“And what do you do?” Thor asked them, sounding wary.  

“We’re police officers,” Sarah replied.  

“Don’t you have a uniform?”  

“I asked them not to wear it,” Rhiannon explained. “I thought it best if we all dressed casually.” 

“But what about weapons?” Hogun asked.  

“British police don’t carry guns,” Peter explained.  

“We have got Tasers,” Sarah offered, “although I seriously doubt that scares you lot.”  

Thor shuddered slightly but too much was happening for Rhiannon to ask the reason he disliked Tasers. 

“We’re here to make sure Rhiannon is safe, crowd control, that sort of thing.” Peter added, but Rhiannon wished he hadn’t said that.  

“Crowd control? Do you often get mobbed?” Fandral asked her.  

“Since her engagement to Loki was announced, she does,” Sarah offered.  

“You’re marrying Loki?” Sif sounded disgusted.  

“Yes,” Rhiannon said, no shame on her face at all; she might not have wanted to address this but she wasn’t ashamed. “The head of the London resistance is marrying the nasty invader she tried to kill three times. Is that okay with you?”  

Sif scoffed but Fandral laughed, asking, “Should I offer my congratulations?”  

“No need to sound so hesitant,” Rhiannon assured him. “I’m very happy with him.” 

“I think perhaps you’d better start at the beginning,” Thor suggested.  

***

December 2012

The plan had worked perfectly. Over the past few months Rhiannon and three of her comrades had worked their way into Loki’s personal staff and carefully, a little each day, smuggled in the explosives and equipment necessary to make a bomb. 

The electronic components they smuggled past security inside a mobile phone and the plastic explosive was moulded into the shape of a teddy bear and clipped onto her handbag, like a keyring. It had the consistency of plasticine or playdough and after being kept in the fridge overnight, was quite solid, she and the others just had to be careful not to knock it on anything. 

Rhiannon was employed as one of Loki’s secretaries, her job, along with five other women, was to distil reports from around the world into helpful bulletins for Loki, ranked in order of urgency. 

Rhiannon had got the job because as well English, she was fluent in Spanish, French and German, as well as knowing a little Portuguese and Dutch.

Her three co-conspirators were working as cleaners since that gave them access to his office, and some of the cleaning chemicals they used, such as acetone and hydrogen peroxide, could be used to make bombs and would increase the payload of their device. Each evening they cleaned his office and day by day, they built the bomb, sometimes hiding electrical components, sometimes hiding the plastic explosives. The cleaning fluids were being ordered a little at a time and would be brought to his office on the cleaning cart and would just be used to enhance the explosive power of the plastics. 

The cleaners worked in pairs and work schedules changed daily for security reasons, so those cleaning Loki‘s office weren’t always paired with a fellow rebel and able to leave supplies, but slowly they built up enough plastic explosives and they waited patiently until two of them were tasked with cleaning his office on the same night.

Since Loki’s timetable varied, Rhiannon’s task was too manually set off the bomb when he entered the office. She, along with the other translators, worked from an office near Loki’s so they were on hand for breaking news, and she had a clear view of him arriving each morning. 

That day she got in early so that the bomb could be detonated the moment Loki arrived, hopefully before he had any meetings so that no one else would be hurt. The bomb was in his desk so Loki would receive the full blast, while they had calculated that this building should be able to withstand the force of the bomb, although with the added cleaning chemicals, Rhiannon wasn’t as sure of that as she would have liked. It was possible that some people may be hurt but with a little luck, she was confident that Loki would be the only fatality. 

There had been other attempts on his life, of course, but they probably hadn’t planned as well as Rhiannon and her friends had, but she knew their plan was good and she really thought that they would succeed. She thought that the other assassination attempts had failed because of incompetence, or poor planning, or any number of mistakes which could derail even the best plans. 

Well her plan would not be derailed, she thought as she spied Loki walking past her office. She grabbed the detonator, which looked like a mobile phone and she jogged out of her office, walking behind Loki. 

It was still early so the place was quiet, most people who had arrived for work were in the breakroom, eating breakfast or topping up caffeine levels before they got started. She saw two other people in their offices as she passed them and she could only hope that they would be okay. 

Loki cut a very elegant figure in his suits and were he anything other than a monster, she would be admitting the view right now, but he was and she had a job to do. 

Her breathing was ragged and she did her best to control it, worried that even from ten feet away he might hear her, but he never turned around. His assistant wasn’t outside his office yet, and Rhiannon gave thanks that another person was out of danger. 

Loki entered his office and Rhiannon stopped moving as soon as his door closed. 

“One one-thousand,” she whispered. “Two one-thousand, three one-thousand.” The cleaning staff had carefully timed how long it took to walk from the door to sit behind the desk. “Seven one-thousand, eight one-thousand-”

Her sweaty thumb pressed the call button and . . . nothing happened. 

She pressed it again and again and again, stepping closer in case she was too far away, although this should work over a distance of 50 feet, she’d been told, and through walls. 

Then an almighty bang nocked her off her feet, just in time for a heavy wooden door to sail past where her head had been moments ago. 

They’d done it. They’d done it! People began to scream as she grinned. THEY’D DONE IT!!

It wasn’t until he walked out of his room, covered in soot and with his suit torn and scorched but otherwise unharmed, that the truth dawned on her. It wasn’t that those other people hadn’t failed or messed up, it was that human weapons couldn’t harm him. Well, maybe a nuke, but she didn’t have one of those handy. What she did have was the paring knife she had stolen from the kitchen weeks ago and stored in her desk.   

In for a penny, in for a pound, as her mum used to say, she got to her feet and with a primal scream, ran at him, the knife held before her.  

Needless to say, he stopped her with ease by grabbing her wrist.  

He looked furious but after a moment his features cleared as he recognised her and she would swear he looked hurt. 

She almost felt bad, after all, he had trusted her. But it didn’t matter how personable he was, he was an alien conqueror and he  deserved  to have his staff turn on him.

His features hardened once again but other than perhaps holding her wrist a little too tightly, he didn’t harm her, even although she kicked and struck at him in an attempt to get free.  

“Take her to the cells in the basement,” he told the security guards as they arrived. 

She was dragged away but she turned back as she heard Loki roar, just in time to see him put his fist through the wall beside his door. 

Although they hadn’t come into work, her friends and co-conspirators were quickly rounded up and placed in the cells beside her by lunchtime. 

She expected torture, or at least questioning. Instead her cell was reasonably comfortable, the food was the same as was served in the palace above and there were no screams of torture from the other prisoners. She kept asking what was happening but the guards wouldn’t tell her. 

After her second night in the cell she was taken out and she thought that now was when the horror would begin, especially when she was brought in front of Loki. The guards sat her down on a chair opposite the desk Loki sat behind, then they stood either side of her, guarding her in case she made a run for it, which, even with horrible odds, she was seriously considering.  

“Leave us,” Loki commanded and although the guards shared a look, they left the room.  

Loki watched her like predator and although she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, she stared back and tried not to show how frightened she was.  

Finally he sat forward. “Why did you try to kill me?” he asked his tone conversational, and perhaps a little confused.  

“You invaded my planet. You enslaved my people!” 

“I’m trying to help!” he yelled, slamming his fist on the desk and causing her to flinch. He seemed disgusted by her cowardice and he got up and began pacing.  

“We don’t need your help!” she yelled, finding her courage once again.

“Of course you do!” he snapped back. “Your politicians are corrupt, you place profit over human life, you allow the elite few to hoard your wealth and resources, you pollute your planet, harm and kill each other- I could go on. You need help. Help I can give.”  

“We believe in democracy and we didn’t elect you,  King  Loki.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever you’re called, we will never agree to your rule because it’s undemocratic.”  

“Your system is flawed, your elected officials are out for themselves, not the people who elected them, and decisions are made via backroom deals, not the democratic process they would have you believe is happening.”  

“And you’re above it all?” she scoffed.  

“I simply want to make Midgard a better place.” 

“You can’t!”  

“I have,” he argued. “I’ve reversed as much damage to your atmosphere as I can, caused by your pollution. I’ve invested in new technologies, I have plans to improve the infrastructure globally, beginning with developing countries. Already drought and food shortages are almost a thing of the past.” 

“Yes, and people are working on those projects because you’re forcing them to! We are not slaves!”  

 “They aren’t slaves!” Loki growled. “They are paid a very fair wage for their work and no one has been forced into anything.”  

“Except living under your rule!” 

Loki gave an exasperated sigh and sat back down. “What would you do?” he demanded.  

“I don’t understand.”  

“If you were me, what would you do?”  

“Kill myself.” She glared at him. 

Loki glared right back. “Assume everything I’ve told you is true, that I want to help the people of Midgard, and that I have no suicidal tendencies. What would you do?”  

Rhiannon shook her head but the bark of laughter that usually accompanied such an action wouldn’t come, and instead she found herself actually considering the question. 

Then it occurred to her that he wanted something from her. 

“I’ll tell you, I’ll answer any weird and wonderful questions you may have, but only if you free my friends.”  

“The guards didn’t tell you? They’re already free.” 

“They’re…?”  

“Free, yes. No one was hurt so your only crime was property damage, and as you can see, I’ve already repaired that.”

He gestured around himself and she realised they were in the office that she had blown up, and it looked as good as new. She’d just assumed they were on a different floor or something. 

“Imprisoning you would only add credence to your claims that I’m a monster and I have no wish to martyr you or your friends.” He leaned his head back against his leather office chair and looked at the ceiling. “You can go too, if you wish. I don’t expect you’ll want to keep your job here, will you? It’s a shame, you were very professional.” 

“This is a trick.”  

“It’s not.” He looked over at her and sat forward. “Go on, go. Leave, see for yourself.” 

She didn’t move.  

“GO!” he yelled, bringing his hand down on the desk with such force that it sounded like a bullet and she flinched again, but that gave her the impetus she needed to leave so she ran from the room.  

She sprinted outside the building and found her friends waiting on the street. So he really had let them go.  

They seemed as bewildered by the turn of events as she was so they made their way to a local café so they could talk.  

They wondered if it was a trap, if perhaps they were bugged and were supposed to lead the authorities back to other members of the resistance, but they each went into the toilets and could find no bugs or homing devices.  

They bought new clothes and shoes anyway, dumping the old ones.  

They checked into a cheap hotel for a few nights but nothing happened, no strange people were seen watching or following them. Rhiannon even returned to the palace and waited outside a few times to see if they would follow her when she left, but nothing happened. She couldn’t help looking for signs of the blast while she dawdled though, although the only sign was some lighter bricks on the building’s exterior wall.

After a week her friends left London and returned to their families, but Rhiannon found herself returning to the palace.  

She knew now that Loki wasn’t going anywhere because human weapons simply didn’t kill him. A nuclear bomb might but since the news had reported they had all been disabled by some hackers, that was unlikely to be a viable option, for a while at least. So if Loki was their leader, then she could at least do something to help ensure that he ruled them well. What was the saying, if you can’t beat them, join them? 

She stood outside the palace for the best part of an hour, walking up and down the street, trying to pluck the courage up to approach. 

She’d been surprised when she’d heard that Loki had taken over St James's Palace rather than somewhere like Buckingham Palace or Westminster, somewhere more intimidating and with more prestige. Built in the 1500s St James’s was really rather modest for a palace. 

He’d eventually expanded to take over Clarence House, Lancaster House and York House and Rhiannon suspected it wouldn’t be long until he had to clear out more surrounding buildings as his staff needs increased. 

Finally she decided she was being an idiot and taking her confidence in hand, she strode up to the security guards and handed them her bag. She saw them looking for the little teddy keychain that used to be attached to her bag but they didn’t say anything to her, just searched the bag and handed it back. 

She nodded in thanks and approached the reception desk.

“I’d like to see Loki,” she told the Linda, the building’s receptionist.  

“Is he expecting you?” Linda sneered. She liked Loki. Most people here did, or they pretended to.  

“No, but he asked me a question and I have an answer for him.” 

“He’s busy today but if you want to take a seat, I might be able to find five minutes for you.”  

Rhiannon knew Linda had no intention of letting her see Loki, but she knew she must be notorious around here and if she sat in the lobby for long enough, word would eventually reach Loki.  

***

Loki was trying to suppress a smirk as Rhiannon was led into his office, although he wasn’t exactly trying hard.  

“Couldn’t stay away?” he asked. “Because I’m sorry to inform you, but we’ve filled your position.” 

“You asked me a question, I thought you might want to hear the answer.” 

Loki considered her for a moment, then gestured to the chair opposite. She sat down but perched on the edge, unsure how her words would be taken. She couldn’t help glancing around however, looking for any trace of the bomb blast. 

“Would you like refreshments?” he asked, the picture of civility. He was wearing another beautifully tailored suit again, one she would admire if it were anyone else wearing it. 

“No, thank you.” The civility of the encounter unnerved her but she was used to controlling her fear around him.  

“Straight down to business then. So what’s the answer, what would you do if you were me?”  

 “If you’re really serious about being a good leader, I’d fire almost everyone around you.”  

His head tilted to the side as he considered her. “Interesting. I can’t wait to hear your reasoning.”  

“You’re surrounded by sycophants and dilettantes,” she explained. “Everyone on Earth hates you, except those who could see that you were… inevitable, and to protect their own interests they sided with you. People like that never tell you the truth because the truth can alienate, they only ever say either what they think you want to hear, or what benefits them.”  

He seemed receptive to her idea and she wondered if it had occurred to him too. 

“So who would you suggest I replace them with?” he asked.

“People who want the best for Earth, maybe even people who don’t like you and will tell you the brutal truth.” 

“And where do I find such people?”  

“I’d start with the Avengers,” she told him. “You’ve got a Russian in the Black Widow, then you have someone who has travelled extensively, often living among the lower classes with the Hulk, a billionaire in Iron Man, an orphan raised in care with Hawkeye and,” she smiled slightly, “a pensioner in Captain America. They're a fairly diverse group.” 

“You know a lot about the Avengers,” he noted. 

“Most resistance fighters do, they’re our inspiration.”  

Loki’s smile widened.  

“I’d add a few more women to that list,” she continued, “Make the balance of your advisers 50/50.” 

“And people from other continents,” Loki added.  

“Of course,” she nodded. “But I was going to suggest you have representatives from different countries and regions form a council, so they can tell you what they need because while there’ll be a lot in common in what each region needs, England for example, will need vastly different things to, say, the Middle East.” 

“What does the Middle East need that England does not?”  

“ISIS needs to be stopped, everyone needs to stop bombing Syria, which also needs rebuilding. Some regions still have misogynistic things like honour killings, female genital mutilation, some places don’t let women go out alone or drive. And that’s just off the top of my head.”  

“Good advice indeed,” he flashed her a predatory smile. “Thank you for coming back.”  

She scowled, unwilling to acknowledge that she felt good being praised by this monster, or that she liked his smile.

“Thank you for seeing me,” she stood up. “And good luck.”  She got to her feet but Loki’s voice stopped her from leaving.  

“You’re wishing me luck?” 

She met his penetrating gaze. “If you mean what you say and you want to make Midgard a better place,” she shrugged. “I can’t kill you, so my only hope is that you’re telling the truth, in which case, good luck with it.” She turned and walked towards the door. 

“How would you feel about being one of my advisors?” Loki asked, stopping her in her tracks once more.  

Rhiannon turned back slowly.  

“Why?” 

“Because you’ve just proved that you can be brutally honest.”  

She wondered why she was hesitating. She hated this man, had hated him for 7 months in fact, so much so that she should just tell him to go to hell and storm out.  

Loki stood up and came around the desk.  

“You’re tempted,” he told her smugly. “You clearly have nothing to go home for or you wouldn’t have come back.” 

“I wanted-” 

“You could have sent a letter.”  

She stared at him as he approached, feeling rather like prey that was being stalked by a predator. It wasn’t a bad feeling though, more . . . exciting.  

“I have a life to go back to, a job, a home-” 

“But I can give your life purpose. If you work with me, you can literally change the world.” He passed behind her and her breath caught in her throat as she imagined him speaking directly into her ear with his silky-smooth voice. “How many people can say that?”  

“What are the terms?” she found herself asking.  

Loki came back into her eyeline and shrugged. “A hundred thousand pounds a year, accommodation provided, you’ll have to travel with me most of the time.” 

Her jaw dropped open in shock. “Is that what you’re paying your advisers right now?” 

“The lesser ones, why?”  

“That’s at least three times what teachers earn! And for what, giving you an opinion now and then?”  

Loki’s mirth fled and Rhiannon felt a frisson of fear.  

“What?” he demanded.  

“You want to pay me three times what a teacher earns for a fraction of the work.”

Loki looked appalled. “These people teach your children! They are quite literally entrusted with the future of your civilisation, and you expect to attract the best by paying them a pittance?” 

“No, I don’t, but teachers pay wasn’t my decision.” 

“Well your government’s then, why do they pay so little?”  

“I suppose because they can, because they don’t value teachers, and they don’t have the money to pay much.” 

“Why not? Your economy is thriving.”  

“True, but when the richest one percent in the world are hoarding half of the world’s wealth for themselves, then have the gall to use tax havens to hide trillions, it’s easy to understand why governments aren’t as rich as they could be.” 

“Why don’t your lawmakers do something about it?” he demanded.  

“Have you looked around your followers, Loki?” she demanded, starting to lose her cool now. “They are all part of the one percent, and they’ve all sucked up to you so that you let them keep their billions. Who gave you this place,” she gestured to the building around them. “Do you think most Londoners live in places with 60 rooms? Newsflash, they don’t. Most people who work in London can’t actually afford to live here, because rents are too high and wages too low, and no one but the super-rich can afford to actually buy a London property. You were given this place, and all the others you stay in, by wealthy people to keep you sweet, and guess what? It worked!”  

“One percent own half of the world’s wealth?” he asked.  

“Yes.”  

“No wonder your teachers are so poorly paid.” 

[neshabeingchildish]

Poly Wanna? Ch.3

A/N: Anonymous Guest - If you’d like to have a chat about these things, say it with your chest, and I’ll say my part. We’ll have an exchange. If you want to use the space set aside for reviews without identification or giving me the opportunity to reply to you personally, then I have to give you the two cents here and everyone has to be subjected to it. It’s an M rating story, so I’ll presume you have your big girl panties on and can take a reply and for anyone else around, in case they have some confusion about my stand on these things, this applies to all.

I just want to remind everybody that this is free labor and if you want somebody to do anything on your timetable, you oughtta go ahead and fund them. You don’t? Cool. Take wtf they’re willing to give you. Or leave it. None of us have to be here. If you’re here because you would love to read a story that I am currently writing, I’d love for you to stick around and will give you the best story that my skills have to offer, free of charge and therefore not obliged to demands. If you’re here to be an executive producer with a production schedule, you made a wrong turn at the intersection of Fuck You and Pay Me. Thanks for your time. I understand if ours together has come to an end. Read what brings you what you want to see and feel, and I’ll write what brings me that WHEN I write it! 

I will abandon this and delete it before turning over authority on what happens here to anybody, or subjecting myself to being treated like a content mule. Juneteenth happened, Sis. You don’t have no slaves here. In the immortal words of my mama, and many-a-Black-mamas, “I’m not one of your lil’ friends.” You better approach me like you got some sense if you trying to ASK ME to do something for my consideration. Peace and many blessings. And now, my update…

@adorkable-blackgirl  @chenoahchantel @cactus-con @up-the-tube @riebellion  @itsyaapollochild@oof–musicals @lesbian-so-what @woahjusttakeiteasy-man @meadowstryingtobepretty @imma-sensitive-btch @okaygal21 @midernacht @divinereign4ever @xoxoemille

A Very Henry Morning

Henry generally woke up in just enough time to blend some juice and watch the sunrise over Swellview, the city that he fought everyday to protect. It was a lasting ritual, from whenever he was with Charlotte. She would always get up super early for yoga and meditation, blend them some juice, then, he’d get up and watch the sun rise with her. The first time, she tapped him to wake him and said, “Sorry to wake you, but you’ve gotta see this.” He quickly rushed out of bed, wondering if a Swellview emergency was underway. This was more important! She went to the balcony of their apartment, cute body clad in her yoga gear and just stared at the rising sun, in awe. “It’s like whenever the day starts anew, not only is it another chance to get things a little more right, but she really brings the day in, in style.” Charlotte was smiling as the morning got gradually brighter and staring at the lifebringing star until it became too bright to behold. Henry was looking at her.

He wanted to ask her if she really thought that was worth waking him up this early, knowing that he went to sleep late at night after crime fighting, but just the way she drank it all in and the way it became a little brighter and a little warmer as he drank her in… Instead, he’d said, “Tomorrow, wake me up earlier! We almost missed it,” and gave her a kiss on her cheek. Presently, he had been doing this without her now for 6 years. “She really brings the day in, in style,” he would say out loud to himself, every time. For years, he did it hoping that Charlotte was somewhere out there, doing the same and that for that moment in time, they were connected again. He would imagine her in whatever her current form had been from (cyberstalking her) and he would recall the way that she looked whenever they first did this.

When he was with Jasper, he didn’t share that moment with him. It seemed unfair to Charlotte, even though even being involved with Jasper was another betrayal of sorts, the sunrise was holy. It was set apart. It was a part of he and Char that was too big, too bright for anybody, even her to ever be able to take away from him… and he was too selfish to share it with anybody else, even Jasper.

Now, his internal clock was set to make the juice and go to the terrace. He watched the sunrise and then, and only then was he willing to begin his day. Henry usually finished off his juice before the sun rose fully and put the glass into the wash when he came back in. He grabbed his watering pot and went to water all of his plants that needed it and simply check in with the ones that didn’t. “The sunrise was beautiful today. Forecast is that she might scorch you if I let you outside, but I’ll definitely let her in, so she can kiss you all on your little faces,” he said. He himself kissed flowers. He himself touched them lovingly, talked to them, asked nothing more of them than for them to be healthy and flourish, but sometimes shared his life with them. Henry had a therapist, but he knew whenever he spoke to his therapist that he was speaking to a therapist and he, as a therapist sometimes worried about whether he was handling his own therapy properly, or if his fears got into the way of his needs. Speaking with his plants helped him to figure out when he was being unreasonable, irrational, or counterproductive. Because, the way that he spoke with them was like one would a child that they love with their whole heart, explaining things for them to understand, and being honest and realistic, but protecting them from one’s own problems. Accountability mattered when you spoke with someone you loved. You would honestly do whatever you could to make sure that they don’t see you differently and make the declarations to better yourself to them. He did that with his plants, then shared the genuine portions that he walked away with for therapy. They kept him honest.

He kept a 3 foot garden statue of Blodeuwedd in his home and had various depictions of her flowers form in artwork all over the place, along with other deities, myths, legends associated with flowers. He’d keep statues nearby the plants to “protect them,” in that way that a dad looks underneath the bed and in the closet for monsters. He’d collected Flora, Khloris, Hegemone, among others but, Blodeuwedd was his favorite, for some reason. Unless you counted Dionysus! Now, one thing about that guy was that he was known mostly for his partying, yeah? Wine, fertility, ritual madness… People generally thought orgies and drunkenness… which… make no mistake, Henry was not opposed to and would even call himself a fan, but Dionysus was also, among these other fun things, god of the grape harvest… He was a god of fruitfulness and vegetation! Henry felt like it was unfair to simply see him as a wild hedonist when he was to thank for fertility and cultivation. Henry was pro-fair… And maybe, just maybe identified with the demigod, just a little bit. 

Folk rarely saw the portion of Henry that loved as hard as he did when he experienced the sun saying good morning to all of nature and made his first moves of her arrival an offering to those who could not live without her. Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Henry Hart is no mystic. He doesn’t worship the sun, the plants, or any of the gods and goddess spread around his home for the aesthetics. But, whenever he spent time with these plants, whenever he gave love to his flowers, he believed in something greater than himself, and that was all of the faith that he needed to go out and protect this world everyday.

People were fine, or whatever… but also they were human. They were the threats to nature, to the earth, the environment, and all that the sun shone on everyday. Mister Feelgood never had to fight an animal. It was always people that did the evil that required his life’s work to exist. Many moons ago, he had fought a bear, but since then wondered if other steps might have been taken. Captain Man was not one to really do the sensible thing in a fight scenario. 

As he got older, Henry tried to figure out ways to best avoid a fight. He was fast approaching 30, probably would reach it before he knew it, and he was in great shape - the best shape of his life, but he also knew that this vessel expiration date. He wasn’t Captain Man. He wasn’t indestructible, and some of his peers were already discussing that the warranties on their knees had lapsed. A few years ago, he might have replied, “RIP to them, but I’m different.” But, he was showing signs of power failure, himself. He became sore more easily than he did as Kid Danger, well, since the early days, at least. He was sore all of the time from ages 13-15. He thought it would never stop. That his body would ache for the rest of his life. 

By 16, he was accustomed to his hypermotility, trained to perfection in its usage and skilled beyond his wildest thoughts in fighting technique. He didn’t have a single pain for almost 2 years. Then, Rick Twitler stripped him of that. The soreness increased, as he spent more energy to get used to things, but he adjusted pretty quickly and became just as trained and skilled with his normal Henry body. It worked out for him for years, in and out of that outfit. But, by 25, he started getting a little more tired than usual. 

He worked on his diet and regulated his energy levels better. Within another year, he started feeling like he needed more sleep at night. He began a vitamin regimen and looked into some natural remedies for fatigue and sleep deprivation. Now, even his libido was changing. Pre-Charlotte Henry kissed strangers, made out with hot villains, hooked up with any cute flavor that would give him the time of day. That seemed to be normal teenage behavior, in his mind. Post-Charlotte Henry was a little more reserved for a while. He’d had this life changing relationship, failed at it, and wanted to proceed with either extreme self destruction, or instant carnal gratification. There was no in between. He either was a hermit, or a hoe, for months after they broke up, and only tried to moderate that whenever he began seeing Jasper.

Unfortunately for Jasper, Post-Charlotte Henry was still suffering when he picked up what they had, so… while he was truly trying, he still had the tendency to accelerate from hubby to harlot goals in a heartbeat. Unfortunately for Jasper, Henry had not yet gotten to the point where he could honestly and objectively take a look at his own fuckery and see where he messed up and he certainly wasn’t about tackling sorting through his own heartbreak so that he wouldn’t become one of those hurt people who hurt people. Unfortunately for Henry, Jasper was a keeper, and he was still so heartbroken that he lost the one keeper that he could acknowledge back then, that he lost ANOTHER. How the fuck did you throw away two keepers, you egotistical, emotionally stunted, self-centered, sex crazed… He stopped himself. Speak about your mistakes in the same way that you would speak to a friend about theirs. When you have no friends that you can think of, though… Speak to yourself like you would speak to the lost ones. To Charlotte. To Jasper…

He grabbed his hygiene bag - it was like a tactical control bag, but full of his facial and skin care, dental products, and his cleansing and fragrance supplies. The bag was full of things that he used on a daily basis, and also his weekly and monthly care. Henry took care of himself. His hair, skin, and teeth were always a priority that he was sure rubbed off from Char, too. Hell, they were together the first 4 years after graduation. Those were formative years for him. He used to wash his face and body with the same damn soap, his face with his hands and his body with a loofah that he always kept until it fell apart. He used to brush his teeth within 40 seconds. His hair took the most time of everything he did and all he ever did was wash it with a shampoo and conditioner 2 in 1… and if he ran out, the same damn soap he washed his face and body with!

Charlotte got him into separate cleaners and applicators. Like, whenever he washed his face, he didn’t even do so in the shower, because he had an entire process to make sure his face was well cared for and the shower wash wouldn’t be timed right for it. Usually, he did wipe his face in the shower, because of washing his hair and the water and steam, but he didn’t really wash it until he did his face after the shower. The shower itself, he would  wash his hair, let conditioner set in it and then wash his body, some of his parts had different cloths, ALL of the cloths went into the laundry when he finished washing up. He always moisturized his damp skin, and put on his deodorant before his facial routine, which was kind of extensive, but had him looking better at 27 than he had at 17, meanwhile… not to say that Jasper looked bad, but… He definitely hadn’t aged as well as Henry and Char had and perhaps she’d help him, like she helped Henry. 

Her influence had helped him become the casanova that he dreamed himself to be when he was younger. Though lately, his desire had been limited. He didn’t even get off on the thrill of the chase anymore. He was super focused on this television project, so he thought maybe that might be affecting things. He wondered and worried if throughout recording that he might have to play up his sexual conquests so that his life would look more like it had looked for the past few years, or if the show would simply redefine him, or worse, make him look like he was faking for TV, since he didn’t seem to want to go on any dates at the moment. He always went on dates. People knew that. If he wasn’t on a date, he was at a party and he was coming home with somebody’s date.

He had family game night at his parents’ neighbors’ house a couple of weeks before and whenever they were playing word association games. Someone said Henry, and every member of his family said one of the following list: Slut, sex, and STD. He didn’t want to say who said what but at the same time that he told Piper, “I have never once had an STD. I’m a sex therapist for crying out loud!” his mother was asking his father, “Why would you say SEX?” And his “I’m a sex therapist for crying out loud!” Conveniently replied to both Piper and his mom. But… he was still a little embarrassed. Nobody said gardening or flowers. Nobody said therapist. Nobody said even the word that he had been to them for 27 years, 21 for Piper - son, brother, dude who lived with us? He sighed. That was worse than that time that one of Piper’s friends referred to him, not even as Piper’s promiscuous brother… “What was the point of the adjective?” he’d asked.

He wasn’t embarrassed so much as hurt, a little bit. Because all throughout his adolescence, nobody knew him outside of being a friend to hometown faves. Charlotte Page, the smartest girl in town. Jasper Dunlop, a hero and an activist against unjust laws. Ray Manchester, the longest running most handsome man in Swellview. Piper “the Queen of Harts,” child commercial actress and self made public figure/influencer. And someone actually told him, “Honestly, I don’t think anybody would care how many chicks you banged if you weren’t Piper Hart’s brother. You’re a sex therapist and probably a sex addict and you have a sister who began the Holdin’ Out for a Hero chastity challenge.”

Little did that person know, that challenge got Mister Feelgood as much ass as Henry Hart. But, now, for some reason, he couldn’t even think about doing that. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him until today’s shower. Up until then, he just presumed he was getting old and tired of it. Like, dating was exhausting sometimes and parties seemed louder than they used to. Sex? Still awesome. That could never change, but… whenever he had the chance for any, he would prefer to pass. 

He had a date the night that he asked Jasper to speak with him about the venture. “I wanna ask Charlotte, as well, but I still have no access to her,” Henry said, casually. There wasn’t a hint of sadness in his voice or even in his heart at that moment, because it had been nearly seven years and Charlotte being out of the loop and out of his life was commonplace, now.

“Does it pay, because I can probably get her to entertain the thought, if it does?” Jasper asked.

“Who are you talking about?” Henry heard a voice ask in the close background… Like real close… like.. Either hovering right over Jasper’s shoulder, or sitting in his lap close.

“Shhh. You,” Jasper said. Like… their voices seemed to be coming from the same place.

“Don’t you SHHH me!” She snapped and it was right in Henry’s ear! Like she was holding the phone. Even with her being loud and angry in his ear, this was one of the sweetest sounds Henry had heard in years. Her actual voice. She sounded different, older, but pretty much the same. Her language and tone definitely brought back memories. All he had was old footage of her at different times. This was more than he bargained for whenever he called Jasper’s phone. He didn’t even know that they were in communication with each other and they sounded… so close…

She and Jasper were fussing and sounded like tussling, probably Jasper trying to move the phone away as he softly said, “Henry’s asking me about meeting up with him at the old spot about some business.”

“Oh,” she said, and then her voice faded into the background saying, “Well, yeah, I’d talk to Henry for money, I guess.”

Jasper whispered something to her that Henry couldn’t hear, then it sounded like he kissed her? Then it sounded like she giggled. Henry… felt… so odd in that moment. Jasper returned to the call and said, “Sorry. Charlotte knocked me off of the bed,” he laughed.

“The bed?” Henry repeated, halfway in a daze, halfway like he didn’t understand the word or phrase the bed was what you said about your bed. Was he and Charlotte in this bed together?

“Yeah,” Jasper seemed to read his mind. “You.. haven’t seen any of my posts tagging her?”

“No, she has me blocked on everything.”

“Yeah, but I don’t.”

“She actually went into the programs and made them to where Schwoz can’t hack her, so I’m sure she’s got a way for me to not even be able to see her through someone else’s feed.”

“Oh… well…” Jasper laughed a little bit uncomfortably. He had thought that Henry knew, but he could tell that he was just putting it together, “We’re a couple now!” He cheered. “It’s still new, but… yeah..”

Henry wasn’t quite sure which of the multitude of emotions would wind up taking over for the night, but in that moment while he let a silent tear fall, he cleared his throat, put on his happiest voice and said, “That’s awesome for both of you! You two deserve people like each other. Bring her along to the brownstone for the meeting, then. That’ll be good..” After he hung up, he cancelled his date. He didn’t want to put his mixture of emotions on anyone else tonight. That night, he opened a bottle of wine that he was saving for some special occasion or another… He never really had special occasions, so mostly wine that he saved for special occasions either remained right where they were, or rarely, there were nights like that night, where the occasion was that he found out the love of his life and the person he regretted hurting the most were together… and he didn’t know which one of them was which, even as he contemplated that fact. Both of them were, in their own ways, the love of his life. Charlotte had been his first love. Jasper had been his second chance. He didn’t fully grasp either of their importance until their presences were snatched away. Neither of them are that foolish. They’ll recognize what they have in each other and it will last forever. His lost ones. The ones that got away. They’ll have a great love. A beautiful love. A strong love. And… he might not ever be able to witness it, if he can’t charm Charlotte into putting up with him, but maybe worse, he’ll be able to and have access to her, then he’ll see it take place and mourn from the outside that they had (what they deserved) without him. He drank the entire bottle and fell asleep on the daybed on the terrace. He hadn’t felt sexual since then.

But, after he met up with Charlotte and Jasper, something happened. He grabbed his hygiene bag, like we covered before, he went to prep and recalled how Charlotte helped him step his game up, then he was thinking about when they used to share showers. She liked that. Sharing showers and stories in the steam, washing each other’s backs and each other’s hair, kissing, touching, oiling each other up to nourish the skin… everything else. 

He wondered as he was washing off if she was doing that with Jasper now… Making him hotter, cleaner, flawless, while engaging in conversations that bring them closer together and just being sexy AF in the process. If they were in the shower, kissing, touching… everything else and before he knew it, he definitely was feeling sexual again. His libido had not failed him after all. It was the shower, so he made quick work of handling his business and moving along. However, when he got out of the shower, and prepared to do his face, he saw that he looked refreshed. He looked happy again. He at least looked like he was himself, again. So… Maybe he wouldn’t be on any dates any time soon, but fantasizing about Charlotte and Jasper wasn’t harming anyone and seemed to help him a lot this morning. So, that was what he would do, if he needed that. 

[brynwrites]

What I learned while self-publishing.

@milkyteefs asked:

I'm unsure about the entire self-publishing world! Do you have a basic outline of the process? Some key highlights/headings of how you started and what connections you needed to make? Thanks again! <3

I went through the process of self-publishing Our Bloody Pearl this summer. Even with all the guides in the world it turned out to be a very grueling experience. I’ll be doing it again with Quasi Stellar soon, but I also hope to traditionally publish The Warlord Contracts trilogy.

First, let’s get this out of the way: Self published books are often very bad.

But they don’t have to be.

Self publishing requires you, the writer, to either wear the hat of everyone else at a publishing house, or be your own investor and pay for professionals to do the jobs you can’t. If you’re willing to put in that effort and money then you can come out with a more professional book than you might have had you published traditionally. If you’re not, then self publishing might not be the right road for you.

Now then, how do you self publish in a way that produces a professional book?

Fifteen Basic Steps to Self-Publishing:

1. Write and edit the book.

This is, understandably, the step that a lot of people get stuck at. Writing a novel is hard. Don’t worry about how or when you’ll publish it until it’s finished.

Just write it.

During this time you should also be marketing yourself as a writer. Learn more about that via my marketing tips tag.

2. Beta readers and critique partners.

Getting feedback from handpicked peers is essential for any book no matter which publishing route you choose. If these terms are new to you, learn more about beta readers here and critique partners here.

During your first book (or two) I recommend starting with critique partners and then moving to beta readers afterward, because critique partners will shred your novel down to the bare bones, which you usually really need the first few books you write. Critique partners will also generally pick at your grammar and typos though, which can be very useful at the end of the editing stage so that your manuscript looks cleaner to an editor (or agent, if you traditionally publish.)

3. Write your blurbs and summary.

While your story is in the hands of your final group of readers, you should already be working on blurbs and summaries. By the end of the publishing process you will need:

A back of the book blurb.

A one-two sentence logline style blurb.

A one page summary of the story.

Don’t put these off! They won’t get any easier if you wait. You can find tips on writing blurbs in this article.

4. Determine that you’re done making changes to the manuscript.

A writer who’s growing and learning will forever feel as though there’s something they can change in their manuscript, but at some point you have to decide that what’s done is done. You will always have another awesome book which will be even better than this one.

If you have trouble determining when this point should be, check out this explanation!

5. Make a publishing timetable.

Give yourself more time on your timetable than you think you need! Traditional publishing takes about two years for a reason. A lot of the steps below this point seem relatively simple compared to writing and editing a book, but they require you to learn new skills and spend a lot of time waiting for other people with busy schedules.

Five and a half: Start book two.

You might have already done this during the beta reading stage, but if not, start another book! Writers should never stop writing and editing (outside of planned vacations, emergencies, and mental health breaks, of course), so pick that pen back up and start pounding out another book.

6. Find a content editor.

If you ran a beta reading stage with 10-20 critical and knowledgeable beta readers in your target audience then congratulations, they served the purpose of a content editor already!

6. Find a copy editor.

A copy editor is the person who checks your grammar, sentence structure, flow, and word usage. I found my editor though the editorial freelance association directory. The main things to look for when choosing an editor:

Experience. This should include testimonies, information about any publishing companies they worked with, and the works they edited in the past. If you can’t easily access and double check these things, then keep looking.

Sample edits. Any editor worth your time will offer you a free sample edit. (For copy editing this is generally 750-1k words of your novel. I’m not sure about other types of editing.) Take advantage of this! Send the same sample to the top four or five editors who fit your price range and see who returns feedback that you jive with and feel comfortable paying.

What if I can’t afford a copy editor?

In general, you can probably get away without hiring a professional copy editor if you (a) find 3-4 solid critique partners who are willing to do a very detailed line edit and proofread of your final draft (do not take advantage of your fellow writers!! Offer them the same in return!!), (b) get free sample edits from a handful of freelance authors to see if they catch any major formatting issues you do regularly, and (c) learn what a style guide is and make at least a simple one for yourself while you do another round of proofreading.

Remember though, traditionally publishing exists specifically so that you, the writer, can get a professional edit without having to pay for it. If you want a professional book without putting in the investment, then querying an agent might be the better option for you.

7. Prepare to offer ARCs to reviewers and friends.

Getting reviews for your book is the most important marketing activity you can do. The sooner you contact reviewers about this, the more reviews you’ll have when the release date comes. Note that the large majority of book reviewers you contact will never respond. If you email 20 reviewers, expect to get one or two reviews out of it, most likely in 4-6 months. (Which is why you should email all your friends and past beta readers too.)

How do we maximize the number reviewers who will read our books?

You know those neat little lists of book blogs who will review indie books? Don’t use them. Anything that with nicely compiled and easy to get reviewer lists is going to be overcrowded with blogs who have two year wait-lists and 97% of them will never even email you back.

Instead, try searching for reviewers you already follow on twitter and tumblr. Look for semi-popular goodreads reviewers who put positive reviews on books similar to your own and check if they have a link to a blog, or an email for review inquiries. Find less well known booktubers that youtube links to off your favorite popular booktubers.

8. Format the book.

You can pay someone to format your novel, but its rather expensive for something that’s relatively easy to learn to do yourself using guides off the internet. Paperback and ebook formatting must be done separately, and your first time I would set aside a full Saturday to tackle each of them, just to be safe. If you have a program like scrivener, with a little tweaking you should be able to get a nice looking ebook with none of the hassle of learning html. There are many other options though. Do a little research to find the one which works for you!

(Note: If you’re printing a paperback you cannot get a paperback cover until you’ve formatted the book and know final page count for your print size!)

9. Hire a cover artist.

The book cover is the most important part of your book, so far as sales and success are concerned.

There’s a huge trend in self published books to skip this stage and work with photoshop or cavna instead. I would not recommend this. Cover artists for professional books do what they do full time. They know the market. They know what sells. So do some writers, but the truth is, many of the writers who think they can design covers, turn out the sorts of designs that are easily pegged as self-published books.

If you want a professional looking book that pops in the amazon charts, hire a professional.

There are a multitude of ways you can go about this. Some large cover art sites like damonza offer bundles which can get pricey, but let you back out with no charge if you don’t like their first drafts and include unlimited changes if you commit. There are also many freelancers who specialize in book covers, for a wide range of prices.

What if I don’t have the money to hire a cover artist?

If there is anything you don’t want to go cheep on, it’s your cover art. But let’s say you absolutely have to get a cover for cheap or free. There are people who do cover designs for $5 on Fiverr, and I think some of them actually turn out half decent covers for very specific genres, but its a gamble. A couple writeblrs do cover design as part of their day job and might be willing to do something cheep or for a trade. You could also learn how to design covers yourself, but if you want to compete with books whose designers went to school just to do what they now do full time, you’ll either have to put in a lot of time or be lucky enough to have a very good, easily executed idea for your particular novel, and hopefully not one with requires any stock photos unless you want to purchase rights to them.

Now, there are some exceptions. Some writers have a natural design brain, and some writers are in fact designers themselves. Sometimes you write a book where the perfect cover design is very simple and easy to produce yourself. But that won’t be most people, with most books.

So far I have seen exactly two of the hundreds of self publisher made covers I’ve seen have actually made me want to buy the story. I’m not trying to be mean. It’s just the truth.

10. Offer ARCs to more reviewers.

Now you have a nicely formatted book and everything! Who can resist that?

11. Do a cover reveal, and during the cover reveal, offer everyone there an ARC.

Cover reveals come in many different forms. Some writers just post the cover on their blog, some do livestreams on facebook, some do question and answer sessions leading up to the reveal, some even go all out and have other writers come talk about their books on their site for a full day prior to the cover reveal.

Do whatever works best for your schedule. The goal is to attract attention for the book, so make sure you link to anything you’ve already set up from #12, so people can easily find your book when you release it!

And, as always, give out ARCs.

12. Get your book and author profile set up on everything.

Prior to your book’s release you should have a goodreads author page, an amazon author page, and a bookbub author page, all with your book attached. You should also have a website and a mailing list (linked to via your ebook), prepared release announcements for every social media site you work off of, and be ready with attractive and easily noticeable links to the book’s sale page off your tumblr blog and website.

Keep in mind that some of these things will take a decent chunk of time to set up, and a few of them require a live human being to confirm you are who you say you are. Start them as early as possible!

13. Release the book!

Time to actually put the book out there for all to buy. You can do a similar hype release as you do with a cover reveal, if you so desire. Make sure you remember to post all your announcements and put up all your links.

Try not to check on the book’s sales until the following day! It does not help their growth or your mental health to constantly be haunting your sales charts. When you do check them, keep in mind that a book which sells two thousand copies in its entire life time has done well, all things considered.

The fantastic thing about self publishing is that you never have to stop selling your book. If you sell fifty copies your first month and then twenty the second and then five the third, you can always dive back into marketing, run a discount, apply for a bookbub ad, focus on marketing yourself as an author and gaining followers. You chose whether your book is done selling.

To offer pre-orders or not?

This is a toss up. In my experience, pre-orders aren’t a good idea for your debut self-published novel, even if you think you have a large audience who will buy them, because they take away from the sales you could have your release week, and the boost those sale give you on the amazon charts. If you do wish to offer pre-orders though, try going through ingramspark instead of amazon advantage, to save yourself tears and heartache.  

To go amazon exclusive or not?

Many authors claim that you have to try both to know what’s right for any particular book. Do your own research and decide what you think is best for you.

Thirteen and a half: Start book three.

At this point you should already have finished at least the rough draft of second novel, so don’t forget to start your third book at some point!

14. Offer people read for review copies.

Especially if your debut novel is aimed toward broke teenagers and younger adults, there will be a lot of people who are interested in the book but aren’t motivated enough to actually buy it on faith alone. By offering free ebooks on a read for review basis, you...

Grow your reviews.

Create fans out of people who may have never read the book otherwise.

Have higher paperback sales, because readers who loved the ebook you gave them may decide to buy themselves a paperback.

15, unto infinity: Keep promoting your book into the sunset, while writing new books!

The time to stop promoting you book is whenever you feel you’ve had enough sales and reached enough readers. Until you reach a point where you’ve published so many books that you can’t handle marketing them all, you should still be trying to expand your readership!

And don’t forget to have a little bit of fun along the way. You worked hard for this. Celebrate it.

But what if I just want to get a book out there?

If your goal is not to publish a professional looking book with will expand your fanbase and set you on a path to full time authorship, but rather to have a piece of your writing available in a book format your friends and family can buy, then there’s no reason not to publish exactly how you wish to.

Are all these steps really necessarily?

I believe they are, at least for a debut novel. In fact, there are probably more steps which I missed entirely. But, if you can find multiple self-published authors who went through a less rigorous publishing process and still received hundreds or goodreads reviews, then by all mean, follow that process instead (and let me know about it!)

So which book did you self publish?

This one here! You can support me and my ability to keep giving writing advice by purchasing a copy today =D