#Glass Cleaner Spray for Home

[ueautotech]

What are the uses of Glass Cleaner?

Glass cleaner liquid spray is a type of household cleaner that is used to clean glass surfaces. Glass Cleaner Liquid contains a variety of ingredients, including water, alcohol, and surfactants. The alcohol helps to dissolve dirt and grime, while the surfactants help to break up the surface tension of water, so that it can wet the glass more easily.

Glass Cleaner Spray is a versatile cleaner that can be used on a variety of glass surfaces, including windows, mirrors, and shower doors. It can also be used to clean other surfaces, such as stovetops, countertops, and appliances. Glass cleaner liquid spray is generally safe to use, but it is important to read the label carefully before using it.

Here are some of the benefits of using Glass Cleaner Liquid:

It is effective at cleaning glass surfaces.

It is easy to use.

It is relatively inexpensive.

It is available in a variety of scents.

Where you can use this Glass Cleaner Spray:

Glass Cleaner Spray for Vehicles.

Glass Cleaner Spray for Home. 

Glass Cleaner Spray for Office.

How to use Glass Cleaner Spray:

Spray the glass cleaner liquid spray onto the glass surface.

Wipe the glass surface with a clean cloth or paper towel.

Buff the glass surface until it is dry and streak-free.

Here are some tips for using glass cleaner liquid spray:

Use a clean cloth or paper towel to wipe the glass surface. Dirty cloths can scratch the glass.

Buff the glass surface until it is dry and streak-free. Streaks can make the glass look dirty.

Do not use glass cleaner liquid spray on wood or plastic surfaces. It can damage these surfaces.

If you are using Glass Cleaner Liquid on a stovetop or countertop, be sure to wipe up any spills immediately. The cleaner can be slippery and could cause you to fall.

Safety precautions:

Always read the label before using glass cleaner liquid spray.

Keep glass cleaner liquid spray out of reach of children and pets.

Do not mix glass cleaner liquid spray with other cleaners. This could create toxic fumes.

Do not use glass cleaner liquid spray near an open flame. It is flammable.

If you get glass cleaner liquid spray in your eyes, flush them with water immediately.

Conclusion

Glass Cleaner Liquid Spray is a versatile and effective cleaner that can be used on a variety of glass surfaces. It is important to use it safely and according to the label instructions.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I have never seen anything like this remodeled 1930 home in Rochester, MN. It has 3bds, 3ba, and is completely tiled inside and out. The exterior is basically bathroom tile. Asking $849K. Well, at least you don't have to ever paint, just spray it down with shower cleaner.

You'd think that it would at least be something other than the usual white, gray, and black. And, you don't even have the option of painting. Ever.

Tile stairs go up into the living room.

I don't really like the small subway-type tiles on the walls in here. Even the fireplace is tile. The bookshelves & ceilings, however, are wood.

I've never seen a combination fireplace/kitchen counter.

The lower cabinets are nice.

The backsplash is a herringbone pattern.

The primary bedroom has a fireplace wall. As if it doesn't have enough shine, they had to put mirrored doors on the closets.

The en-suite bath has that nice shower door that looks like paned glass.

What is this nonsense? No tiled walls? This is actually very nice. It can be repainted in a very attractive color scheme.

Bath #2 has large pieces of tile joined by metal strips around the tub, plus a wood-tone ceiling. There are 4 different tiles in here.

Bedroom #3 has the small tiles on the walls.

Well, that's different - twin fireplaces.

The finished basement is set up as someone's bedroom, office, and gym. I like the glass wall partition.

There's also a shower down here.

And, a sauna.

There's an outdoor kitchen with storage.

The kitchen is, of course, tile.

The lot is .25 acre.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/902-14th-Ave-SW-Rochester-MN-55902/91456791_zpid/?

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 4 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: pregnancy, lots of crying and worrying, we're basically just an emotional mess, Eddie tries his best

WC: 1.1k

Divider credit to @saradika

April 1999 

Emotional is a word you’d previously used to describe yourself in the three or four days leading up to your period. Patience thinner than a thread, eyes misting at movies you’ve already watched a thousand times over—that was par for the course. 

And it didn’t hold a candle to pregnancy hormones. 

You’re dusting the bedroom furniture, the air fragrant with lemon Pledge. You spray the cleaner onto Eddie’s nightstand, carefully wiping down the wooden surface and twisting the rag over the knobs. Perched in a silver frame is Harris’s school photo from September. He’s sporting a huge grin that looks much different than his current smile; for one, his two front baby teeth are long gone now, his permanent teeth not yet pushing through his naked gums. His hair has grown out from the fresh cut he’d gotten just prior to Picture Day, the curls once again wild and untamed. Though you can’t see it in the picture, you know he’s a few inches taller. Compared to the little boy in the still image, he seems so…grown up now.

Your heart lurches when it dawns on you that you’ll never get those months back. Harris is seven years old now, closer to the beginning of second grade than first. And in just thirty short weeks, he’ll no longer be the youngest Munson.

A single water droplet plops onto the glass covering, magnifying one of his big brown eyes. Another lands on the frame, and then another, and you realize that you’re staining it with your own tears.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” you mumble under your breath, using your shirt’s hem to wipe the glass clean. You see this photo every day, but it suddenly has you choked up, nostrils stuffy as you try to stifle your crying. Thank God no one else is home to witness you being a sniveling mess over something so trivial. 

It doesn’t even occur to you that this newfound influx of intense emotions may be due to your pregnancy until a few evenings later when Eddie brings home a VHS copy of The Lion King from Family Video. Your fingers reach for the butter-drenched popcorn, dropping a few kernels in your mouth and crunching down as Scar taunts Mufasa from above. 

Harris sits on the sofa between you and Eddie, his hands clamped over his eyes in anticipation of the inevitable wildebeest stampede, as though eliminating his sense of sight will keep Mufasa alive somehow. 

Ah, childhood innocence, you think, a wistful smile gracing your lips. You watch as he parts his pointer and middle fingers, peeking between the gaps. One day, he’ll be able to watch this scene without hiding. He’ll be catching movies at the Hawk with his friends, and then on dates, and he won’t want to hang out with his parents anymore…

The tears trickle down your cheeks just as Scar loosens his grip on Mufasa’s paws, watching his brother fall to his death. His brother—what if Harris and the new baby grow up to despise each other? What if Harris resents them for taking the attention away from him? What if the baby develops that younger sibling syndrome where they feel they can never measure up?

“Sweetheart? What’s going on?” Eddie’s concerned voice captures your attention. You turn to him with glassy eyes, noting the amused smile twisting his lips. “Animated lions tuggin’ at your heartstrings?”

Anger surges through you as though a switch has been flipped. You’re bearing the weight of emotion on your shoulders, and he’s on the verge of laughter?

“Is this funny to you?” you snap, rage searing each word. Before he can answer, you’re on your feet and marching into the bedroom, fists clenched at your sides. 

Eddie’s right at your heels, one hand grasping at your waist while the other quietly closes the door behind him. “Hey, hey,” he murmurs, brushing the moisture from your cheeks. “I’m sorry I laughed at you. I…we’ve seen this movie before, and you’ve never gotten this upset.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you blurt out, prompting a new round of sobs. “It’s sad, but not this sad, and all I could think about is Harris and the baby hating each other like Mufasa and Scar.”

Your husband tucks his lips into his mouth, poorly stifling another giggle. “You…you started crying because you’re worried about a sibling rivalry that doesn’t even exist?”

You can’t help but laugh along with him when he phrases it like that. “Shut up!” you manage through a foreign combination of laughter and tears. “It could happen! They could grow up, become enemies, and—”

“And organize a wildebeest stampede to overthrow the other as King of the Jungle?” Eddie pulls back when your palm meets his chest in a playful shove. “Okay, okay!” he chuckles, holding up his forefinger. “Just one more question: which one of our kids gets trampled?”

“I hate you.” You pluck a Kleenex from your bedside table and dab underneath your eyes, a burgeoning smile quelling your frustration. “My hormones are out of control, and you’re over here having the time of your life.”

He dramatically throws his arms around you, lips pressing to your temple while he chuckles into the kiss. “My emotional little baby mama,” he teases. “Don’t worry, Sweetheart; I think it’s cute. Terrifying, but cute.”

You nod, lacing your fingers with his as he leads you back into the living room. Harris is still laying back on the sofa, fully invested in Timon and Pumbaa’s on-screen bickering. 

“Har, where’d your bowl of popcorn go?” Yours and Eddie’s bowls sit on the coffee table awaiting your return, but Harris’ is nowhere to be found. 

“Oh, yeah. I ate it all, so I put the bowl back in the sink.”

He says this nonchalantly, eyes never leaving the TV set; regardless, nostalgia washes over you. When you’d first met him, he could barely even reach the sink. Now he’s placing his dishes there on his own without even being asked?

“Don’t worry, Mommy; you don’t need to cry. This is a funny part.” He furrows his brows when your lower lip trembles in response. “You wanna do the breathing?” He inhales and exhales for three seconds each, just as you’d taught him on that fateful Halloween afternoon over two years ago, watching as you do the same. “Better?”

“Mhm. Better.” You kiss his mussed curls, settling back into your original position to watch the movie; of course, not without sobbing when Simba speaks to Mufasa in the stars.

Note to self, Eddie thinks wryly, rent a comedy next week.

--

[blushcoloreddreams]

5 things to clean everyday

Good morning and happy Thursday everyone! I

So today let’s talk cleaning. Don't forget to turn up the music, a podcast, audiobook (my favorite) or to cart your Netflix around with you to each room because it is officially CLEANING TIME.

Yeah baby!

Everyone already knows about the importance of making their beds in the morning but let’s talk about the 5 areas you should clean ABOVE ALL ELSE. If you have no energy at the end of the day, at least take time to do these 5 areas. 5 minutes each, 25 minutes total. Totally worth it.

1. Sinks

Keep your bathroom sinks white and sparkly. Remove the hair, remove the nasty yellow staines and just keep them CLEAN. In your kitchen, empty the sink every night from dishes and pieces of gunky Food. Noncluttter allowed here. Disinfect disinfect disinfect. Dirty sinks cause stress and anger. I am SO not here for it.

Use a cleaner with disinfectant, a castor oil, vinegar, or a heavier all purpose cleaner and spray out that sink! I put the sink to bed every night. It helps me feel so peaceful.

2. The Floors

I’m not really referencing a daily vacuum sesion here. Sure, sweep your kitchen and vacuum your living room every day if you feel so inclined, but today I'm talking CLUTTER. Keep your floor clean of clutter. Pick up the clothes on the bedroom floor, pick up the towels off the bathroom floor, and for the love of all that is good, put the shoes away and don't let them cluster around the front door.

A cluttered red floor full of random items, toys for those with kids , and dirty clothes will definitely add stress to your life. Put on your favorite jam, turn up the volume, and do a quick cleaning sweep. It’s like when we were in kindergarten and we had to sing the ”Clean-Up Song“ and by the end of the song, we had to be done!

3. Clutter piles

Oh the elusive clutter pile. Papers, mail, weird documents, thank you cards, and random things to recycle and Specially "transient-clutter." You know, the type of clutter that builds because every single thing in that pile needs to go to a different home?

Well these clutter piles only breed if we allow ourselves to add to them everyday. Clutter piles MUST be dealt with. They are bad for the brain. Have an inbox/outbox style folder in your kitchen if you must, but I urge you to not use counter space as your personal file folder. Everyday, go through the paper clutter building on your counter: file, recycle, or burn. Your brain will thank you.

4. Your Bedroom

Keep your bedroom a place of zen and peace. It is for sleeping, romantic times, and cuddly times. You do not want to be looking over at a pile of mushy clothes, or a random suitcase when you are trying to relax. Keep your bedroom as a sacred place in the house: no mess enters, no mess leaves. Never use your bedroom as a psuedyo storage room. Keep it special to you or you and your spouse. Remember that bedrooms are supposed to cradle us off to sleep, and should therefore be peaceful.

I take time every single day to tidy the bedroom floors, make sure the furniture is clear of clutter, and to make my bed and make sure my sheets feel fresh. Never unerestimate the power of a clean bedroom combined with your sleep. It’s magical.

5. Your Stovetop

Finally, I encourage you to clean you STOVETOP every dang day. If you follow me on Instagram, you will see me scrubbing that baby on the regular. The stovetop is another "saced" place to me. It is where I spend at least 1-2 hours of my day, and it is a place where I want to enjoy my cooking experience, pop up a YouTube video next to me, or even sip a glass of red wine. I cannot do those things in peace while I'm staring down at crusty egg bits and nasty juices.

Use a cleaner specific to your type of stovetop. I use a glass stovetop cleaner, but if you have a gas stovetop, take time to soak the grates in dish soap and vinegar to remove grease. Clean that stovetop everyday and your sanity will return. I promise.

There you have it friends! Extra ranting about cleaning to hopefully motivate you. There is no reason for us to be cluttered if we do a little every day. Take 5 minutes a day on each of these areas, and you will see an ENORMOUS difference in your life. 5 Minutes for each area, 25 minutes a day, and a lifetime of internal zen, peace, and joy.

Have a fabulously clean weekend friends. No clutter piles

[nourishandthrive]

Eco-Friendly Cleaning Products: Safe Alternatives for Your Home

Keeping your home clean and safe doesn’t have to come at the expense of the environment. Traditional cleaning products often contain harmful chemicals that can negatively impact your health and the planet. Switching to eco-friendly cleaning products is a great way to maintain a clean home while being kind to the environment. Here are some safe alternatives you can try:

Vinegar and Baking Soda

All-Purpose Cleaner: Mix equal parts water and white vinegar in a spray bottle for a versatile cleaner that can tackle countertops, sinks, and more. Add a few drops of essential oil for a pleasant scent.

Scrubbing Paste: Combine baking soda with a small amount of water to create a paste that can scrub away tough stains in the bathroom or kitchen.

Castile Soap

Multipurpose Cleaner: Castile soap is a plant-based soap that can be used for everything from washing dishes to cleaning floors. Dilute it with water for various cleaning tasks.

Foaming Hand Soap: Mix Castile soap with water and a few drops of essential oil in a foaming soap dispenser for a gentle and effective hand soap.

Lemon Juice

Natural Disinfectant: The acidity of lemon juice makes it a powerful natural cleaner. Use it to disinfect cutting boards, clean glass, and remove stains.

Deodorizer: Add lemon juice to your cleaning routine to naturally deodorize and freshen up your home.

Hydrogen Peroxide

Disinfectant: Hydrogen peroxide is an effective disinfectant that can be used to clean surfaces, sanitize cutting boards, and whiten grout. Use a spray bottle for easy application.

Laundry Whitener: Add hydrogen peroxide to your laundry to brighten whites and remove stains without the harshness of bleach.

Essential Oils

Antimicrobial Properties: Essential oils like tea tree, lavender, and eucalyptus have natural antimicrobial properties. Add a few drops to your cleaning solutions for an extra boost.

Aromatherapy: Use essential oils in your cleaning routine to create a pleasant and calming environment in your home.

Eco-Friendly Store-Bought Products

Green Brands: Look for cleaning products from brands that prioritize sustainability and use natural, non-toxic ingredients. Brands like Seventh Generation, Method, and Ecover offer a wide range of eco-friendly cleaning products.

Refillable Options: Choose products that come in refillable containers to reduce plastic waste.

Reusable Cleaning Tools

Microfiber Cloths: Replace disposable paper towels with reusable microfiber cloths. They are effective at picking up dirt and can be washed and reused multiple times.

Natural Sponges: Opt for natural sponges or scrubbers made from sustainable materials instead of synthetic ones.

Switching to eco-friendly cleaning products is a simple yet impactful way to create a healthier home and contribute to a more sustainable future. By using natural ingredients and choosing environmentally friendly brands, you can keep your home sparkling clean without compromising your health or the planet.

Do you have any favorite eco-friendly cleaning tips or products? Share your recommendations in the comments below!

[sebastianstansqueen]

Lost In The Shadows: Part Twelve

A/N: This one is short, sorry, also have began writing my next series, my stuff about that will be up once i'm finished posting this story, hoe you like it, If you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 1,159

Warnings: angst, Guns, Bucky being unaware, Wayne, and Brock if I forgot anything let me know please!

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Taglist open// 

Tags: @cherryblossomsky- - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond- @leyannrae- @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @nik2write - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel - @sebsgirl71479- @missvelvetsstuff - @hadesownhell - @casa-boiardi- @winterslove1917- @hallecarey1 - @ash-craze - @barnesxstan - @unaxv - @bethexo07 - @itsmytimetoodream - @sebastians-love - @stoneyggirl2  - @ordelixx - @arunabrak

After the stress of being at the hospital worried sick everyday, Y/n had to admit being at her villa in Italy was a nice change from the compound back home. It was also nice that she was able to get Bucky an arm with the thought of mind that money was no object, so she got the best of the best. The best part was it was just her and Bucky, since everyone  back home wanted to keep it hush hush that they were leaving, there wasn’t a security staff always lurking nor did she have any professionals roaming the house like cleaners, and kitchen staff, it felt normal, and she almost didn’t dare say she liked it. 

Currently she sat by the pool, while Bucky was swimming laps, she softly smiled to herself as she thought about it. Tonight they were going to roam the city, starting with an art gallery and then dinner. A lot of this felt so domestic to her and she couldn’t fully hate it. “You okay?” Bucky asked, her eyes opened as she looked at him. “I know you’ve been stressed.” And there was also that, if Bucky remembered he would probably understand the why, because technically you were both in hiding. 

“Bucky, if anything I’m for once not stressed.” She lied through her teeth, she was more stressed than ever before, because they were stuck in a foreign country Bucky had no memory of the Mafia, and for the first time since taking her family business back she wasn’t the one in control of everything, and she hated that. “If anything, I’m excited about tonight, it’s gonna be romantic.” 

As the two of them walked around looking at different paintings, sculpture and other pieces of work. It was nice until a bullet hit one of the paintings, Y/n’s eyes widened. “Get down!” She yelled, she pulled out her own gun that had been tucked away in a secret pouch in her overly big purse, as more bullets came through breaking the glass.

“What the hell is going on?” Bucky asked with wide eyes. 

Y/n looked at him. “Believe me Bucky in another life you’d understand, but for now follow what I do.” She aimed her own gun at the glass ceiling of the building, where she couldn’t see even an outline of a person, she took a deep breath in irritation. “Okay, we’ve gotta get on that roof.” 

“That’s where the bullets came from.” Bucky hissed out. 

Y/n nodded. “I know.” She got up moving, Bucky moved her as she had told him. As people who weren’t dead ran around in panic and fear, and red lights went off with an annoying alarm and people who had gotten shot in the spray of bullets moments earlier laid on the ground crying or dead.  She moved around until she found a roof entrance, she began running up the stairs, when both of them made it up to the roof Y/n found who she was looking for meaning whoever it was wanting to kill her had an open air shot to get her. As Y/n saw it was two people, Sharon and Wayne, Y/n scoffed, wind caused her hair to blow everywhere. “You two have got to be shitting me! You're working together?” 

They both looked at her with wide eyes. “She betrayed Brock, so I'm here for both of you!” Wayne was the first to speak. 

Y/n began to actually laugh. “That’s a good one Wayne, you're working for Rumlow, you're not even stupid enough to do that.” 

“You're the one who’s gonna lose out, Y/n, you are the one who lost doing business with him, and you're gonna die for it.” Wayne smiled wickedly, Y/n noticed he looked different; he'd been bulked up or something. 

“Are you on that fucking staroids he wants to sell on the streets?” She scoffed able to tell, by the obvious side effects. 

“It’s called ‘the serum’.” He said aggressively. 

“Oh, please, all those blue crystals are gonna do for you is kill you eventually.” Y/n was taunting him. 

“Okay that's enough.” Sharron stopped her from continuing. “I’m killing you, and then taking everything you’ve built.” The blond held up a gun at Y/n, making her do the same. 

Y/n, wasn’t aiming for her sister but Wayne, as her finger pressed the trigger Sharons did the same and she ducked down, with Bucky as she watched Wayne fall off the building with blood spreading on his shirt. 

Sharon watched and hurried to follow where he fell, jumping off knowing Y/n was giving her one more chance to get her. Y/n liked a game especially with her sister, so she was willing to play it, if Sharon killed her next time she’d win, only getting one more chance to try again, before Y/n would kill her. Y/n looked at Bucky making sure he was alright, he looked shaken up but no wounds, she helped him up. “Are you okay?” She asked, and he nodded. “Okay come on.” 

When they got back to the villa she began packing everything they had brought, moving as fast as she could.  “Y/n what the hell was that!” Bucky yelled, making her freeze up, stopping what she was doing.

Y/n whipped around. “You're not gonna talk to me like that!” She yelled back. “You're the one who doesn't remember anything, and doesn't know what is going on so you're not gonna yell at me, I’m doing this for your safety, because I care about you.” 

“Explain what’s going on then.” He said with irritation. 

“My sister, who is a skilled assassin, and a guy I refused to do business with are trying to kill me and possibly you, and that’s how we ended up in the hospital I’m assuming, and your don’t remember this because of what you got in the accident, Bucky I’m a mafia boss and so is your brother, but we’ve gotta go if you want to live.” She spoke with pure urgency, she moved up to him, placing her hand in his, she slowly moved in closer to him, kissing him softly. “Bucky, I love you, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, if you come with me I’ll make sure you don’t die.” 

Bucky pulled her closer to him. “I’ll go with you, but be honest with me from now on.” 

Y/n looked at him and nodded. “Okay, for now pack, I’ll figure out where to next.”

_____

Brock shook his head, as Wayne's feed and tracker turned red, he slammed his hand on the desk, a mix of anger and joy. Wayne had been helpful but soon became a pest on his shoulder, he huffed knowing he needed to know Y/n’s next move. He had to be the one to finish her off. 

[redrobin-detective]

the first language

Touch comes before sight, before speech. It is the first language and the last, and it always tells the truth. ~ Margaret Atwood

"Simon! Simon!" Finn shouted excitedly as he and Jake burst into Simon's house. Well it had technically been Marcy's first but though it's only been a few months since Simon became human again, it felt like it had always been their place. "Wait until you hear about this crazy wild monster we foug-"

"Stop," Simon commanded, peeking around from around the kitchen wall to give them a light glare, his lips pressed together in a line. He and Jake froze midstep. Finn was a bold teenage adventurer who took orders from no monster, king or extraterrestrial entity. Until Simon, only PB could boss them around and even that wasn't a sure thing. The older human flicked his eyes over them with an unimpressed stare that made Finn want to shrink into himself. Even without powers or magic, Simon was way more intimidating than Ice King. 

"You boys are filthy and I just cleaned up the place." Simon sighed and rubbed at his eyes underneath his glasses. "There's a hose outside, wash off the worst of the dirt and other various stains. I'll leave towels on the porch and for god's sake take off your shoes before you come in."

"Yeah okay, sorry Simon," Finn said, trudging outside and turning on the hose to spray down his arms and legs. Now that he looked, they were pretty gnarly covered in mud and monster guts.

"Simon's kinda like a mom, dontcha think?" Jake added as Finn sprayed him down with the hose. He laughed as Jake guzzled some of the water and spat it back at him. 

"I mean I guess," Finn shrugged, pointing the hose up so they both were getting rained on. "It's kinda nice you know, to be fussed over. It's different."

"I fuss over you," Jake frowned.

"I know man and I appreciate it," Finn said, showing his appreciation by spraying Jake in the face. "I can't explain it but it's different with Simon, kind of like how you and Lady have your own thing going on that's special but separate from what you and I have."

"Yeah okay," Jake responded. "Is that why you insist on stopping by to see him anytime we're in the area?" Finn didn't answer, instead impressing Jake but wiggling the hose to make it look like a snake. They continued to laugh and splash each other with the water until Simon stepped outside and hung some towels on the porch.

"When you're done playing, I have hot chocolate waiting for you. Then you can tell me all about your latest adventure," Simon smiled before stepping back inside. Finn whooped and rushed over to turn off the hose. Hopefully Marcy wouldn't be back before all the water on her porch and front lawn dried. 

They toweled off and Finn did remember to take off his shoes before entering the house. The place looked different from when it was just Marcy living there. The small loveseat had been exchanged for a bigger couch along with some mismatched armchairs. A keyboard was propped in the corner next to Marcy's bass. The house was cleaner, more organized with Simon around. It really felt like a home.

Simon was at the stove, stirring something in a pot as they took their seats at the kitchen table. Their assigned mugs were set out for them and snacks were on a large plate in the middle. He and Jake dug in. Simon came up behind them and poured the hot chocolate into their mugs from the pot and sat down, pouring his own cup.

"Finn, your hat still has blood on it," Simon noted, taking a sip. "How do you usually clean it?" 

"Oh uh you know, I usually just rinse it off and if it gets too grody or it comes to life, I go skin another bear," Finn said awkwardly. Simon nodded as if he expected such an answer and excused himself to go get something.

"Ohhhh Finn's in trouble with Mommmm," Jake sang under his breath and Finn kicked him under the table. Simon returned with a box of something before it could escalate into a full out foot war.

"Animal skin usually requires special care, it's doubtful those products exist anymore so we can also use shampoo to get some of those stains out. May I?" Simon asked, holding his hand out.

"Oh yeah, thanks, Simon," Finn said pulling off his hat which caused his long hair to flop against his shirt with a wet plop. Jake snickered, it was probably getting time to cut it again. Like his hat, it was getting dirty and tangled, easier to just shave it all off. Simon turned on the sink and began gently washing the hat. 

"I've talked a bit to your mother and some of the other Islanders and the history of humanity and the animals hats post-apocalypse really is interesting," Simon lectured. "The hats originally were intended to keep people warm in the elements but evolved to protect humans from vampiric attack, covering their vulnerable neck area. Even when vampires went extinct, humans continued to wear the skins as a form of cultural identity."

"Mom uh Jake and I's Mom said I was wearing a hat like that when they found me. It used to be the only clue I had about where I came from so I kept making similar hats in case someone was looking for me." Finn took a long sip from his cocoa to avoid the look Jake was giving him. He wasn't usually one for sentiment but hanging out with Simon usually made those deep inside feelings spill out.

"Okay, we'll just let that soak and- Finn," Simon said before turning around and sighing. "Finn, your hair is a mess. I keep telling you it's not healthy to jam your hair in that hat 24/7. Your scalp needs to breathe, especially with all the running around you do. Here," he grabbed the towel from earlier and wrapped it around Finn's shoulders. "Let me wash it for you and try to work out the worst of mess."

"Oh uh you don't have to it's fine, I'll take care of it when I'm home," Finn stumbled, embarrassed. Ice King had been a mess but Simon always looked so put together. It made Finn a bit self conscious but then again, until recently, he didn't have any other humans to compare himself to. Simon gently guided Finn back to the chair, tilting his head back. 

"I want to," Simon smiled from his upside gaze. "I used to do this all the time for Marcy. Besides, we humans have to take care of each other after all." Simon poured some shampoo in his hands and went to work on Finn's hair. The feel of fingers scrubbing at his roots, running through the length of his hair and massaging those sensitive, untouched areas of his head made him go boneless. Finn groaned, worried that his bones had become soup and he'd slide right out of the chair and into a puddle on the floor. He can't remember ever feeling so relaxed in his life.

"Oh my glob Finn, are you alright? What did you do to him?" Jake demanded but Finn barely noticed. He felt like he was in the 47th Dead World or something where everything was good and nothing hurt.  

"Head massages are relaxing to humans," Simon paused in his scrubbing and Finn moaned in disappointment. "Has he never had one of these before?"

"Mom and Dad used to pet us and I do it to Finn sometimes when he's upset," Jake defended.

"He's not a dog," Simon said, some unnameable emotion in his voice. "I'm sorry, I suppose I'm taking for granted what it was like to live in a society designed by and for humans. Finn, I'm going to rinse out your hair and start working on these knots. You really should work on maintaining your hair if you're going to keep it long. It's such a lovely color and texture."

"Hmm don't really know what to do with it, no one really had hair like mine," Finn mumbled as Simon rinsed the shampoo out.

"I suppose so and Marcy's is much thicker and textured requiring different styling," Simon mused out loud as he massaged some thick goop and gently, so gently, began working out the knots. Finn could die here happily. Jake hummed and stretched himself so he could see what Simon was doing.

"What's that stuff?"

"Conditioner or my best homemade equivalent with honey, olive oil and milk. It softens and moisturizes the hair and scalp. It will help prevent the hair from tangling so easily and overall keep it healthier, especially if he's going to continue to wear his signature hat," Simon explained. They chatted easily about human grooming methods while Finn's eyelids fluttered in relaxation, drifting in and out of the conversation as the comb made long, easy swipes through his hair before rinsing it out again. He loved his Mom and Dad, knew they did his best with him but he knows he missed out on something being raised by dogs. If he could recapture even a little bit of that missing piece with Simon...

"Finn? You still with us? Ground Control to Major Tom?" Simon teased, gently tapping at Finn's forehead. Finn blinked up at him. "What do you want me to do with it? I can braid it, put it in a ponytail, leave it flat." Finn wasn't ready to stop being touched.

"Braid please," he said quietly, sighing in contentment as Simon began combing and separating the strands.

"I'll write some notes on how to best care for it. Maybe next time you talk to your mother, you can get some ideas on what they've have been doing since I was last around." He paused in his braiding. "There's so much to being human, Finn, both past and present. Maybe it's selfish of me but I want you to proud of who you are. You may not be the last human anymore but that just means you're not alone. And we're done, not bad considering it's been about a millennia since I did my last braid."

With great reluctance, Finn raised himself up from the back of the chair. His braided hair was still wet but it felt cleaner and lighter than it had in a long time. Moreover, tension Finn didn't even realize had been in his neck, head and shoulders was gone. Jake suddenly popped into his vision.

"Bro, you look so pretty also like you just had the best rest of your life," he smiled awkwardly. "So is this like human equivalent of getting scratched in that itchy spot behind your ears? I guess that didn't really do anything for you, huh?" Finn smiled and reached up to scratch Jake's ears, smiling wider when Jake's tongue lolled out in satisfaction when Finn got to the right spot. 

"So I'm still waiting to hear about this monster you two got so dirty defeating," Simon added, cleaning up his supplies. Finn and Jake regaled Simon with the story of the evil monster they'd fought which had been terrorizing the Goblin Kingdom. Finn had felt tired initially but was reinvigorated, animatedly reenacting the epic battle. They finished their cocoa as Simon discussed his own research into the history of Ooo. They decided to head out soon after as BMO was probably getting lonely back at the house. Simon handed Finn his now cleaned hat and a container of the hair products he'd used.

"The animal skin needs to dry fully before you put it back on but it should be good by tomorrow. You should wash your hair when it's dirty or at minimum every few days. Shampoo first, rinse then a small amount of conditioner before rinsing that out too. And do try to keep your head uncovered every now and again," Simon said, before patting Finn's shoulder. "You can call or stop by anytime if you have questions about anything."

Finn had searched his whole life for answers, for comfort, for someone like him. His dad had been a massive wad and his mom was nice but disconnected. But the former sad wizard he used to beat up had shown him the best way to wash his hair. Life was funny like that. He couldn't wait to see what it was going to throw at him next.

"You're gonna regret saying that because I have about a bajillion questions."

"I'll do my best to answer them, after all, we've got all the time in the world." 

[swabian-princess]

Domestic engineer tales - daily cleaning routine

Hey girlies,

as we all know - I'm a proud domestic engineer (aka SAHGF) and while this life is very soft I still have responsibilities. One of them is cleaning.

I grew up with a mother that wasn't about cleaning all the time. Sure, the basics were always done but she wasn't bothered if some pet hair was on the couch or if the kitchen wasn't cleaned until the next day.

Well, my bf is the direct opposite. He hates dirt, dust, stains, pet hair and the list goes on. Basically - he wants our apartment to look like nobody lives there. He's a perfectionist and he can't relax if he suspects the apartment is not clean. That's when I enter the game - it's my task to tidy the apartment every day, so he can come home and simply relax.

I'm not going to lie - it was really rough in the beginning because it seems like this man can smell a faint stain on a towel ten miles away.

Realize that maintenance is key!

It took some time for me to realize this. Just trust me - it's way easier to clean just a little bit every day than to spend hours cleaning once a week.

1. vacuuming

My first step is always vacuuming the whole apartment. I need roughly 30-45 min to thoroughly vacuum the apartment. My holy grail tip is to invest in a wireless vacuum cleaner. It doesn't have to be the newest dyson! In fact, bf and I have three vacuum cleaners: two dysons, one of them wireless and one Phillips, and I absolutely prefer the Philipps one over both the dysons.

2. dusting

I hate dust. It makes my nose itch and my eyes water - so there is a strong no dust policy in my home! I just grab an good old swiffer and simply dust off all my counters and all the surfaces in the apartment.

3. disinfect

I blame the pandemic for my urge to disinfect everything. I love sagrotan cleaning wipes and I always buy them in bulk when they're on sale. I wipe down my kitchen counters and every other surface in the apartment. I've been doing this for a few months now and I don't see any damage on our furniture that could be caused by the wipes.

I also wipe down my bathrooms - my sink, the water taps and the complete toilet. I also spray down the toilet and my door handles with disinfectantspray for extra protection.

4. polishing

We have quite a few glass surfaces that need to be polished every day because they tend to get grease stains very easily. I take a microfiber towel and a cotton towel and spray those surfaces with a special glass cleaner, rub it in with the microfiber towel and dry with the cotton towel for a streak free finish.

5. couch vacuuming

It was not the best decision to get two white/grey coated cats with long and fine hair while still having a black couch. You. can. see. every. single. hair. I'm very happy that our Philipps vacuum comes with a special attachment for pet hair removal. I use it on both of our couches and the attachment works like a charm. No more hairs!

6. making sure it smells good

A good smelling apartment is mandatory for me because I believe that a good smelling apartment makes living way more enjoyable.

I make sure to clean the cats' litterboxes frequently - I try to scoop the litter out immediately after they finished their business. Nothing is worse than the smell of cat shit or piss and I know way to many people that have their whole apartment smell like their cats litterbox because they neglect cleaning it.

I also spritz our couch and our carpets down with some Febreeze golden orchid cushion cleaner. It smells heavenly and the smell stays for hours! It's also pet safe, so don't worry.

Last but not least - candles. I like to light some scented candles in different rooms of the apartment to make sure that it smells nice everywhere. My current favorites are the yankee candles in vanilla cupcake and sunny daydream!

It takes me around 3hours daily to finish cleaning the apartment and that's only maintenance.

I deep clean different rooms on different days during the week. My daily tasks also include loading and unloading the dish washer, doing laundry, cooking and cleaning the kitchen after cooking.

lots of love

Selene

[brehaaorgana]

The worst part about moving AND needing to replace a lot of things bc you no longer will have shared roommate items is like frantically mental list making about all the shit you probably need and trying to prioritize what is most immediate bc you can't buy it allll at once. Home good triage.

Also??? Wondering if you forgot something.

Chef's knife

Paring knife

Shower drain hair catcher

Wet/dry mop (like Swiffer wet jet or similar)

Shower curtain / liner

Shower curtain rings

Kitchen trashcan

Electric screwdriver/drill

Hammer

Cutting board

Paper towels

Dishwashing sponge

Stud finder

Sponges

Dishwashing soap

Plunger

Cholula

Basically all pantry staples

Ugggghhhh

Stuff I already have/had extras of, already bought Baruch hashem:

Coffee table

Dining room table and 2 chairs

Laundry detergent

Toilet brush

Cleaning spray

Cleaning wipes

Magic erasers

Measuring tape

All kinds of screws, wall anchors, hanging tools, etc

Dremel tool

Sanders

Cleaning and chemical grade gloves

More plates

Wok

2 frying pans

Glass containers for kitchen stuff

Trash bags

Toilet paper

First aid kit

Oscillating multi-tool

Assorted pots

Glass cleaner

Wood oil / soap

Hand soap

Toilet bowl cleaner

Pet stain cleaner

Handheld vaccuum

Iron

Towels (bathing / face)

Dishtowels

Probably more i just need to look again.

Tool box

colander

Jar opener thing

Dutch oven

Baking sheets

[deathnotenerds]

☛ GET INSIDE YOUR CHARACTER'S HEAD! aka The Excessively Detailed Headcanon Meme (MADE BY: @not-just-a-letter )

Not all questions will be the same, because I translated it into my own language and then back into English😭 Enjoy💅

2) Daily routine!

Dark gets up at about 8, goes to the

kitchen to make some tea, takes it back to the room and drinks it. Meanwhile, he spends half an hour playing chess online.

-At 9 o'clock he makes his bed, brushes his teeth, gets dressed and helps with the investigation online/goes to the crime scene.

12:00 p.m. He takes a lunch break at work, and usually makes his own lunch.

-At 1 p.m. Take a short break talking to L

He continues to work on the Kira case from 1

p.m. to 9 p.m

He gets home at 9:00 p.m., changes his clothes and sits down in his room to meditate so as not to be overwhelmed at work.

- He has dinner at 21:30

- From 21:50 to 22:30 he plays chess again.

-He showers until 22:40-23:00

- He sleeps at 23:30

3) Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?

Not really, sometimes he does some stretching exercises when his back hurts. However, he especially likes to play tennis.

4 ) What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?

He probably wouldn't even dare to approach the kitchen. He would wait quietly in his room for them to go out. If his family members are there, he actually goes in, but he just stands and waits patiently for them to finish their part.

5 ) Cleanliness habits (personal, kitchen was busy? workspace, etc.)

His room is generally fine. He compulsively cleans it because he once read that he will feel more relaxed in a cleaner environment. If there is something he doesn't use (e.q. a glass), he immediately takes it out after him. Wash it after cookina. If he were to vomit, he immediately wipes it away and sprays his room with perfume.

6 ) Eating habits and sample daily menu

Dark often eats rice or fish that are less oily/greasy. He eats less meat as it often makes him sick. He especially likes traditional Japanese food, cinnamon, crackers ,and broccoli. He also likes to eat licorice but he always forgets that it makes him vomit.

7 ) Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time

He usually plays chess online, but L also often invites him to play chess online and live, because he knows that he likes it. He also often bakes cookies and listens to music. He enjoys talking with L and his family.

8 ) Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging

Various chessboards, empty notebooks, so that most of them have not vet been filled. Too many essential oils, incense, or similar items needed for meditation. He buys so many of these because he is afraid that they will run out suddenly, but in reality there is always just too much.

9 ) Makeup?

Basically, he doesn’t wear makeup.

10 ) Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?

Obviously!

11 ) Favorite book genre?

Crime fiction/detective story

13 ) Sexual Orientation?

He’s pansexual!

14 ) Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.)

Nervous system problem

15) Biggest and smallest short-term goal?

Dark's primary goal is to protect his family and solve criminal cases (mostly the Kira case). I think hs smallest goal is to learn how to cook well even foods that he doesn't eat, only people close to him eat.

16 ) Same question

17 ) Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress

Dark usually had it figured out dressing. He dresses averagely, but what cannot be missed is that he wears a necklace and his earphones in evry outfit.

18 ) Favorite drink?

Greentea

19 ) What do they think about before falling asleep at night?

He thinks a little about L, because he likes him a lot. likes to talk to him. Sometimes tomorrow. If you're feeling frustrated he also think about what to bake. it's possible that he's overthinking the same thing over and over and panicking.

20 ) Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?

He probably had asthma.

21) Turn-ons? Turn-offs?

Dark will be a little cheerful if someone comforts him a little physically if he is frustrated.

In contrast, it shuts down completely when it is around people.

22 ) Given a blank piece of paper, pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

He would write down an unlearned recipe on it / maybe write down the most important information about the investigation.

23 ) How organized are they? How does this organization/ disorganization manifest in their everyday life?

Dark is a very thorough and organized person. He thinks everything through logically, he doesn't talk unnecessarily. Extremely organized.

24 ) Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all?

Dark excels in matematics

25 ) How do they see themselves 5 years from today?

Dark does not focus on what will happen in the future. It deals with the present to contribute to the future.

26 ) Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don't work out?

Nothing special, he just want to be calmer. And if they don't allow Him to work for the police anymore, then His emergency plan would be to work as a confectioner.

27 ) What is their biggest regret?

That in the Justice case, when Nico said that Nadim was replaced, Dark claimed that it wasn't true, that Nico was just crazy. When he found out that he had indeed been replaced, he was deeply saddened.

28 ) Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy?

Dark doesn't have many friends, but he had a good time with Naomi during American Baby Murder case. Dark has no particular enemies.

29 ) Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?)

He starts to panic a lot. Shaky, even very dizzy. If the situation is very . he vomits a lot when he is in such a frustrated situation. In this case,he can rough, he cries, but most importantly sometimes dry out.

30 ) Reaction to sudden interpersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies)

Same as question 29. In this case, vomiting of blood can be added if, Bc He has vomited a lot and his mucous membrane is damaged, or there is a risk of fainting.

31 ) Most prized possession?

His computer.

32) Thoughts on material possessions on general?

He doesn't mind if someone makes a bigger financial investment in something, just don't overdo it for something that isn't worth it.

33 ) Concept of home and family?

His family is very important to Dark, as he maintains a very good relationship with them. He likes his family members.

34 ) Thoughts on privacy? (Are they

Dark usually doesn't talk to anyone outside of his family and L. He does not share confidential information about his own life.

35 ) What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

Dark likes to try on clothes sometimes.

36 ) What makes them feel guilty?

If he determines something wrong in a crime case (Like Nadim's case, for example)

37 ) Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision making?

Dark usually makes decisions using logic and is less concerned with his feelings even if he knows it will be bad for him.

38 ) What recharges them when they're feeling drained?

He listens to music or simply puts on headphones to drown out the noise. Possibly meditation or any breathing exercise.

39 ) Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority complex? Neither?

He probably has an inferiority complex.

40) How misanthropic are they?

Dark is more afraid of people as they are very loud to him and tire him out a lot.

41) -

42 ) How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education?

He graduated from university and has a diploma. He actually likes self-education, I think he was also on a pastry course.

43 ) His religion?

He doesn't want to interfere in religions.

44 ) Superstitions or views on the occult?

Dark fears all kinds of superstitions because he believes them. He doesn't have so many occult views.

45 ) Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?

Rather with actions, because he usually keeps quiet about his feelings.

46 ) If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal?

Dark likes to be patient with him and wait for him to dare to communicate with them. He likes the other person to be a little attentive, but not overly so. On the outside, He likes it when someone has black eyes because he thinks it's cute.

47) How do they express love?

He does their favors (e.g. cooks Their food, brings them things), sometimes physically touches them if they’re okay with it (gives them hugs, kisses, etc.

48 ) If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?

He can’t

49 ) Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?

He is very afraid of it, he is seized with terror when he thinks about it. He is afraid that it will hurt him a lot.

That’s all! Have a nice day!:3

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Five

After a morning of frantic creativity in the studio, I head down to the shop with a head buzzing with thoughts of Christmas motifs. Petra is comparatively calm, sitting behind the till reading a crochet magazine in her lap and drinking a hot chocolate from one of the sachets she keeps in a drawer with the excess breast shaped candles. “Oh hello.” She says serenely. “Have you come to do the window?”

“I have.” I go into the storage closet next to the employee bathroom and start yanking bits of blue roll off the holder, wrestling my way through the clutter and piles of empty postal boxes for a squeegee and a bottle of industrial window cleaner. 

“I can’t wait to see how it turns out.” She flips the page while I start spraying the window and buffing off the dirt and streaks. It’s a smaller window than the café I worked on back home, but tenfold more intimidating, seeing that this is an actual art shop with actual artists working upstairs who will no doubt notice things like crooked ‘o’s or asymmetrical ‘m’s. Recalling the mistakes I made the last time, I first sketch an outline on the outside of the window. The sun is hot on my hair. 

The muscles in my arms ache from the gym as badly as I expected they would. As I work I silently curse Shane Healy and his wicked exercise regime, and every time I lift a paint pen to the glass and my biceps groan I curse him harder. I am tired too, my eyes feel dry and heavy after a poor night’s sleep, tossing and turning in my bed with a head whirring with thoughts of Izzy’s gig. I think about it now too. Of Jen especially, and how different she was, but of Jude too, and the strange rift between them. I can’t help but recall all of those little details like the purple skin under his eyes, the nicotine stains on his fingers. Jen’s thin body, the vacancy in her stare. It was freaky to see them both like that, to witness their distance when all I’ve ever known of them was their closeness.

I start sketching out the lettering for ‘mezzotint’. I have a design in an open notebook at my feet, and I refer back to it again and again, trying my best to mark out the shapes as symmetrically as possible. It starts off well. I’m careful, I’m precise, and I realise that focussing as hard as I can upon the task makes it harder for me to dwell on other thoughts. I don’t notice the time passing me by, the shadows moving across the pavement, I even drown out the sound of the tram as it passes, and it’s just me and this window and these pens and…

“Um, hello?” I get such a fright that my marker slips across the window, sending a slash of white through my meticulous lettering. “Shit.”

“Fuck, sorry.” It’s Jude. He’s reaching for a damp cloth so he can help me to erase it. I never even heard him coming. 

“Oh, God, Jude, don’t worry about it, it’s just the guide.”

He pulls the cloth over his finger and uses the flat edge of his fingernail to carefully remove the offending mark from where it cuts right through one of the Zs. “Sorry I scared you, I was trying to catch your attention from across the street for like, a minute. I thought you’d heard me.”

“It’s okay, honestly.” I take his wrist and lift the cloth out of his hand. “I’ll fix it later. Like I said, this is just the guide bit. I’ll erase it later anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure, it’s fine, it’s just a stupid white line, nothing to get upset about.”

He looks up at the window. “It’s looking good though.”

“You think?”

“I do.” He smiles at me. “Nice job. I’m glad I caught you in time for lunch.”

“It’s lunch?”

“Yeah it’s like five past one.”

“Oh.” I frown. “I swear to God, sometimes I seem to just switch my brain off when I’m working.”

“I know the feeling. Do you have time to get food? If not it’s totally fine, I probably should have texted you or something, I couldn’t remember if we actually made a plan to get lunch or if I just ended up being vague with you.”

I smirk as I start bundling up my art supplies. “You asked me if I take lunch, and then you walked away.” After brushing my cheek with his thumb in a way that made my stomach bottom out, but I don’t bring that part up.

“Ah, sounds like me.” He holds the door for me as I carry my things into the shop. “If you’re not free it’s fine, by the way, I can get lost.”

“No, we can get lunch.” I smile at Petra who is eating a sandwich at the till, and we give each other a quick wave as I leave my supplies on the floor and head back outside. “Where’s Astrid today? Are you meeting her after lunch to do the big tourist round of Dublin?”

“Ah.” He says as we fall into step next to each other. “She’s not feeling well. She doesn’t want to do anything today.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Mm.”

“Do you think you’ll go tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure, she, well, she kind of wants to just go back to Berlin at the moment, I’m trying to convince her to stay for the rest of the week but-” He shrugs. “I dunno. We’ll see how it goes.”

“Not a fan of Dublin City?”

“Something like that, maybe.”

“I don’t blame her.” The Liffey still stinks as we cross it. A man leans over the railings and hawks up a mouthful of spit to launch into it. I shudder. “It’d be a pity to cut the holiday short all the same.”

“I’d bring her back to Berlin if I could, it’s just with the things I have to do…”

“That family stuff you mentioned?”

“Yeah. My mom is away on business this week, she needs someone to take care of Ivy. Like, bring her to school, cook dinner, laundry, all of that stuff.”

“Oh, damn. Is your dad away too?”

“No.” He kicks a coke can into the road and it goes under the wheels of a passing bus. “He just won’t- can’t do it. He’s not a big fan of, uh, parenting her.”

I frown. “Like, at all?”

“At all.”

“So what does he do?”

He exhales a laugh. “He’s very busy.”

“Right.”

“He’s rarely home for dinner. He works a lot. Late hours, paperwork, you know the drill.” I don’t know the drill. My dad only ever worked steady, predictable hours in the medical factory, and my mam, well, hasn’t worked since she gave up her secretary job in 1993. I can’t remember a time that she wasn’t at home, potatoes boiling in the pot while she scrubbed every corner of our tiny council house. She was always there to look after me.

Jude asks me what I want to eat, and I tell him that he can choose, so we head east along the river. “I know it’s weird,” He continues defensively, even though I haven’t said anything “that my mom would rather get her adult son to look after their child than her own husband, who like, you know, fathered her, but it’s just the way the situation is.”

“Yeah it’s not great, obviously, but I suppose this is an exceptional circumstance. One time is inconvenient but manageable.”

He gives me a sideways glance. “Yes. One time.”

The conversation shifts to Ivy as we venture into the Liberties, and he tells me about her. She’s almost thirteen now, she’s in first year of secondary school, she’s still bad at piano and has to be forced to go to her lessons. She still never practises. I like watching Jude’s face when he talks about her, he gets very animated. It’s like he’s a bit proud of her, like he finds her funny, like he genuinely likes being around her. I consider his relationship with Ivy in contrast to Shane and Kelly, siblings who would have beat each other to death with remote controls, fighting for the teddy bears with the hardest plastic eyes, the biggest battery packs so they could cause maximum damage to one another when they smashed each other across the backs with them. I often counted my blessings over the fact that I was an only child when one of them started up a battle, but now, for a brief moment, I catch myself mourning the absence of the sibling I never had. 

He takes me to a food van that sells coffee and Italian sandwiches at the foot of an apartment complex. I grab a chicken and pesto panini, which he pays for, and we take a seat on the grass in a nearby park. Jude stretches his legs out in front of him and leans on his elbows. He’s wearing shorts and a fleece, green and white runners and tube socks that have fallen down a bit on one side to reveal a strip of pale skin right up against the deep tan of his legs. He’s away in his thoughts again, eyes turned glassy as he stares out across the park to somewhere among the young trees planted by the fence. My eyes automatically follow the lines of his profile, from his forehead over the slight roman curve of his nose and down to the long line of his throat before I realise I’m staring too much, reading his visual language like a painting at a gallery, so I examine my sandwich instead. 

“What are you thinking about?” I ask him. 

“Oh.” He says. “Nothing, I don’t even know.”

“Mm.”

He gives me a half smile. “Maybe I was thinking about how I’m glad we could meet for lunch today.”

He definitely wasn’t. “Of course. It’s been nice, you know, to see you again.”

“I missed talking to you.”

“Did you?”

“I did.”

I nod. “Well, I missed that too. I’m sorry-”

“No more sorrys.” He reminds me. “It’s all water under the bridge, and like I said, I have more to be sorry for than you do.”

I smile, then he smiles, before getting distracted by a nearby dandelion. He plucks it, and instead of blowing away the seeds he rather barbarically picks them off with his fingers and flicks them into the wind. I wonder if he made a wish. “I hope everything was alright last night with Michelle.” I say, hoping my prying doesn’t seem too much like, well, prying.

“Ah, yes. It was fine she just had to tell me about something that happened.”

“Hope it was nothing bad.”

“Well, I don’t know. It was just… well, nothing.”

He isn’t going to tell me. “Is it a bit weird,” I pivot “That Michelle and Jen are friends? Like I’ve wondered before. I saw them together in a bar a couple of years ago and I was surprised that they seemed close. Do you ever feel, like, a bit put out that your best friend stayed close with your ex?”

He shakes his head. “No, because they were friends first. They went to primary school together, and when I moved to Ireland I started hanging out with them. We were a trio of friends.”

“Really? You and Jen and Michelle?”

“And some other people here and there, on and off at times, but yeah, we were.”

“And then…”

“And then one day I ruined it and kissed Michelle.”

“Oh.”

He splits the stem of the dandelion with his thumbnail, opening it up to flatten against his palm. “I seem to have this weird impulse issue where I can’t stop fancying my friends and then inevitably destroying everything.”

“Harsh. Surely you’ve had a female friend that you haven’t tried to kiss.”

He thinks about it. “Sure, but not as many as I’d like to admit to. When I really get to know people it’s hard for me not to blur the lines, to think that everything about them is beautiful, or whatever.”

“But Jen?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” He rolls his eyes at himself. “I kissed Jen too. When we were thirteen. She called me a fucking freak and went off crying.” His mouth quirks up at the corner. “And then a month of no contact later she approached me in the school yard and said she was sorry, that she actually realised that it wasn’t I specifically who was disgusting, it was just that she didn’t like boys.”

“She sort of came out because of you?”

“Yeah, well, because of my bad habits.”

I mirror him and start picking the grass. “I hope that she’s doing well.” I say. 

“Yeah, me too. Things aren’t that great between us at the moment.” 

“I’m sure it’ll get better.”

He sighs. “Friendships do this, you know, especially long ones. People kind of eclipse in and out of your life, and it’s easier for it to happen when you’re in your twenties. I guess she’s just, like, eclipsed out right now. I think I should have tried to be a bit more understanding over Pamela. I think I was a bit full on when she started confiding things to me. Jen doesn’t often get into relationships so I can see why she’s been pouring all of her time into this one, it’s just, well, I suppose it’s whatever. It’s not worth getting into it.”

“I think things always get complicated eventually.” I remark. “The longer you’re friends with someone the more likely it is that there’ll be conflict, and then when there is it’s so bad, like they know how to hurt you more than anybody else.”

“A bit vulnerable.”

“Very.” I say. “Back in first year I had a big fight with Claire.”

“Oh yeah?”

“It was because of… well, basically I just lied to her by omission. It wasn’t very wise of me to think that she wouldn’t find out on her own, but I don’t really like conflict, in case you didn’t notice that.”

“Who, you?” He grins. 

“But I was so used to always just taking on everything, like, blaming myself for being wrong and for ruining everything, but actually, when we finally got to talk about it and try to fix things, she admitted that she felt the same. She felt like she’d been in the wrong, and that she shouldn’t have reacted the way that she did. I suppose it was healing, or something, to realise that we both hurt the other, and it was okay because our friendship was stronger than that.”

“And now?”

“Now we’re great, we’re perfect. When I fell out with Kelly I thought about it all the time. I still think about it, honestly. I think about the things I wish I’d said to her instead of the things I really did say, and I imagine scenarios where I win and I make her look so stupid. And sometimes…” I wonder if the next part is too insane to admit. “…I think about mowing her down with my bicycle or shoving her into a massive thorny hedge and she gets all scratched up and has twigs stuck in her curls that she can’t get out for hours, and maybe they’ll get so tangled that she’ll eventually have to have them cut out-”

Jude lets out a loud, surprised cackle. “Specific.” 

“-and everyone points and laughs at her, and she runs off crying, and I know it’s so stupid and those things would never actually happen, but I’ve never stopped being angry with her, or actually, angry with myself for being weak for our entire friendship.”

“You weren’t weak.”

“No, it’s okay. I think I was.”

“And now? What about with Claire?”

“With Claire I don’t feel that way at all. I handled it so differently, it felt mature and fair, like, I was upset while the fight was happening and for the month that we didn’t speak, but after that, yeah, it was fine. We’re good. I don’t even care about the fight because we fixed it.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Well, that’s lucky then.”

“Whatever it is with Jen, I’m sure you’ll fix it too.”

He sighs. “She’s complicated. It really goes back further than just this year, there’s things I should have done the whole way along, ways I should have been there for her but wasn’t. I’m kind of coming to terms with being a bit of a shit friend.”

“It’s not like you to talk yourself down so much.”

“Hm, well I’m trying out this new thing where I’m more honest with myself.”

“How’s it going?”

“Horribly. It feels very bad.” He smiles weakly. “I think I’ve had a lifetime of being a bastard and it’s all manifesting this year, like I turned twenty one and it decided to come and bite me.” he suddenly sits up straighter and shudders, like he’s physically shaking the self deprecating thoughts from his head. “I don’t mean to be so miserable right now, Jesus.”

“You can be miserable all you like.”

“No.” He gently tugs on the cuff of my jean leg. “I want to hear about you. Tell me about this fancy internship. It was too loud in the bar last night to really get into it.”

I grimace. “It’s really not that interesting.”

“Tell me everything.” He insists. “Don’t leave anything out. When did you apply?”

I sigh and I lie back in the grass so that I can watch the clouds drift past. “Okay well…”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[fuck-customers]

💀This is a FUCK CUSTOMERS!!!!!!!!!!! Today (11/29), everyone in the big red circle department store was busy doing online pick up orders cause either not enough people were scheduled or someone called out (not super important to the story), but it means I was up behind the service desk stowing an order with my older co-worker, chatting while we stow. In comes our cart attendant, let's say his name is B. Now B is definitely very neurodivergent (as am i), and sometimes it's very obvious to the customers and to our coworkers but mostly the cart attendants keep to themselves besides having a few work buddies, I am friends with both of the C.A.s.

B comes behind the service desk trying to hang up his drive-up jacket on the hook, i quickly pick up that he is acting differently than he usually does, and so I ask him if he's feeling okay/if he's alright etc. He tells me that some guy just picked up the eco-labs chemical cleaner bottle the store keeps up by the carts to wipe down the handles and stuff and sprayed him in the eyes/face. Luckily B wears glasses so it protected him a little bit but it definitely got in his eye and he was trying to use the eye wash station.

I told him to go wash his eyes out quickly and that I got his jacket. I hung it up and I asked him what happened while he's washing up and he explains what I just typed out, I of course was livid! When he was done our old coworker told him to call the manager/ETL and tell them what happened and so he did and a bit later i see B with one of our ETL's and she made him wash his eyes again and took him into her office to talk about what happened, etc. we carried on with our day, I kept checking in on him throughout though, (it turns out the chemical bottle is a cocktail that has peroxide in it). Before I went home for the day I asked him one final time if he was okay and he said that his eye still hurt and that he could hardly keep it open or something along those lines. I told him to go to the ER if at all possible and to stay safe (as it was also starting to snow).

Needless to say I'm still so fucking MAD!!!!!!! I swear retail workers should get a "once a day smack the shit out of the customers in self defense" card because I would've beaten their ass on behalf of B. The absolute audacity!!!!!! Do people think we just spray down those carts with water????????? Do they not think spraying someone in the face with a chemical bottle with have horrible consequences????????? This isn't your fucking mom's house where she reuses spray bottles for water for plants or vinegar for cleaning!!! That's a living fucking person that's going to have to get checked out by a doctor because you sprayed them with multi purple peroxide cleaner you fucking shit excuse of a creature!!!!!!!!!

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Are you kidding me? This home, an all-time favorite of mine, is still on the market? This is a duplex built in 1962 in Lake Tahoe, CA. It has a total of 5bds, 3ba, $699K. The current listing has removed more than half of the original interior photos. But, I found them. You'll see why they removed them, below.

So, it looks like we walked into a formal dress party going on. Except that the guests are creepy mannequins.

There are so many. Can you imagine having to use that bathroom, or go into the kitchen, in the middle of the night?

What is that one doing on the floor with a spray bottle of glass cleaner? The kitchen's going to need some repair and the whole house needs updating.

This one has a pet chicken. I can't even comment on the house, b/c all I can see are mannequins. Although the house looks unappealing.

There's a fireplace hidden behind all that statuary and gold stuff. Looks like a baby mannequin on the couch. There's some religious statuary thrown into the mix, also.

What in the world is going on in this room? There's a guy who looks snobbish in this mix.

There's a half naked one with a bunny by her butt.

Children, a dog wearing pearls, and a naked one standing behind the Blessed Mother.

This one in the bedroom has her hands on her hips, looking like she's mad b/c you stayed out late.

I don't even wanna know what's under that sheet.

There's a statue, but no mannequins in the bath.

Since you're buying the whole house and it's a duplex, you have to tour the downstairs unit, too. It has a spacious living room. Looks more modern than upstairs.

Open concept layout.

The kitchen is newer, but look at the dents in the appliances.

They have a too-large table for the space.

Bd. #1.

The bath looks a bit bigger than upstairs.

Bd. #2. Really, the only interesting thing about this house is the mannequin collection.

4,792 sq ft lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/3695-Primrose-Rd-South-Lake-Tahoe-CA-96150/195374618_zpid/

[rom-e-o]

Not Supposed to Be Here (Ebenezer/Constance)(Modern AU)

Unwanted company follows Constance home one day.

Rated 13+. Triggers for stalking from a third party, light violence w/ mention of blood, and some language. All the romance is just fluff, maybe with some innuendo if you squint.

Also, this takes place in a modern AU universe featuring @quill-pen's Bess (and her own Ebenezer/zar), Addie, and Gal. Cameo time!

Happy reading!

Usually, Constance felt safer upon entering their flat’s guarded lobby.

The gentle chime of the entry bell and lemony smell of freshly sprayed cleaner offered an air of professional hominess. It felt sophisticated, but also slightly cavernous, which usually aided her feelings of safety.

The building was old in design, with darkly lacquered walls and natural stone floors, but the cameras and keypads that dotted the vicinity were the best money could buy. The cost of the units within the building damn near insisted it. As a result, most of the residents did the same.

Literal resident, philanthropist (and casual billionaire) Ebenezer Samuel Scrooge, for example, had spared no expense in making her feel safe once she moved into his upscale London apartment. The man already had an impressive security system installed. A few years ago, he would have said it was to protect the funds, ledgers, and gold he prized. Now, it was to protect the woman with a heart of gold whom he had the honor of marrying in a few months’ time.

While Ebenezer treasured Constance open and ardently, her presence alone wasn’t the only factor that inspired him to pay top dollar for security.

He knew that being at his side put her in the public eye, and considering her ex-husband’s very active restraining order, he had updated the system to the latest model the day she first entered his abode.

Not only was the front door guarded by a doorman and the front desk staffed by two receptionists, but the floor Ebenezer’s flat occupied could only be accessed by a special elevator, which was manned by its own staff member at all hours, except for the occasional break. There was, of course, the fire escape out back, but that area was also guarded with cameras closely.

Yet, even as she made small talk with the attendants and checked their postbox for mail, a sense of uneasiness lingered over her like a storm cloud.

She felt unusually restless; like eyes were on her, but not just any set of eyes.

It had been just over a year since she’s felt that familiar sense of dread … the nightmare of his eyes, dark and cold as fog, watching her. Scrutinizing her. Hating her from afar.

A Harrods catalog slipped from her hands and onto the floor.

The rustle caught the attention of a nearby receptionist.

“Something wrong, Ms. DoGoode?” one asked, peering up at her from their post behind a large Mac monitor. They appeared to be checking their emails, the camera feed resigned to a smaller window in the lower corner.

Constance turned and looked behind her, her gaze moving through the lobby and out into the busy London streets. The frost-covered glass hid the details of the sidewalk and traffic outside from her view, but nothing immediately caught her attention.

Prudence, the large mastiff that loyally followed her lead even without a leash, followed her eyes. In response to her owner’s obvious discomfort, her stance immediately became more protective at the first showing of fear. She glanced around, growling in an attempt to stave off whatever was causing her new mama to tremble.

Yet, even as they both ladies stared out the front door, they saw … nothing.

Perhaps she was imagining things. Or, imagining people.

Trying to save face, Constance chuckled and tucked her mail away in her evergreen Telfar shopping bag, a recent acquisition from New York that her mother had sent.

“I’m fine,” she said, making sure to flash the receptionist a grin. “Clumsy as always, haha! Thank you for worrying.”

As if sensing her discomfort, Prudence whimpered and pawed at her lower legs. She bent and scooped up the mailer, then rubbed her large, meatball-shaped noggin. “Sorry, girl. I guess I’m just imagining things.”

Something must have triggered the feeling, she thought. Maybe another man in the lobby was wearing the same cologne as him, and she’d picked up on it subconsciously. Maybe she hadn’t seen someone coming in behind her at the entrance, and she’d let a door fall shut on someone. Yet, if that was the case, they apparently hadn’t stuck around to chastise her.

With kind words of parting, Constance made her way to the gilded elevator tucked in the back of the lobby. Prudence stayed behind just a moment longer, cocking her face at something beyond the glass.

Constance whistled as she held the door. “Come, Prudence.”

With a huff, the pup gave up her pursuit and trotted into the elevator.

“Good girl,” she praised. With those words, the elevator doors fell shut.

Moments later, the front door opened softly, and a man stepped in.

“Excuse me,” he asked as he approached the desk. We wore a dark trench with camel-colored gloves tucked into his pockets. His American accent was distinct, with a slight Dutch twang. “I looking for someone, and I think I just saw her go up.”

“Let’s see…oh, Harrods opened their Christmas department,” Constance exclaimed as she read the mailer on the ride up. “Oh, they already have their teddy bear display up this year! The Cratchit children would adore that. We should all go on an evening after work!”

While Constance attempted to distract herself by reading the seasonal ads, Prudence kept glancing around, as if even the tiniest shadow in the elevator could pose a threat.

“I wonder…has Bess ever been before?” Constance pondered aloud. “I’ll have to text Wolf and see. What a fun surprise that would be!”

Lacquered maroon nails tapped the glossy paper impatient. She glanced around the small space and heaved a sigh. “The, um, attendant must be on break.”

The mastiff definitely wasn’t listening. Her expressive eyes furrowed at every sound, and when the doors opened on the private floor, she even let out a bark.

Smiling softly, Constance gave Prudence a reassuring pat on the back as they exited. “You’re so brave, protecting me. Thank you, sweetheart.”

The praise temporarily distracted Prudence from her apprehension, her tongue lolling from her gummy jaw. Her tail swayed like a ship’s mast during a sea storm.

“Now, keys, keys…” Constance said, reaching her entire arm into the large bag to fish out the front door key to the apartment.

When her fingers brushed the distinct, heart-shaped keyring, a grin bloomed on her face. “There you are! Sneaky.”

Constance unlocked the front door, making sure to wipe her heels on the welcome mat before crossing the threshold.

“Ebenezer?” she called into the space, only to be greeted with silence. She heard no voices, or even music, from within. It seemed he was still out on business. He’d been called to a private meeting at a client’s estate. As the meeting was outside of their usual office location, there had been no reason for Constance to accompany him. Instead, he recommended she take the day off.

She smiled at the memory, especially how he had promised her he’d be back by dinner, then kissed her lovingly on her lips to seal the promise.

In fact, he kissed her each and every time they parted, no exceptions.

She kicked off her heels quickly, then reached up to a keypad located right next to their coatrack.

In addition to a front door key, the apartment had a security system that triggered every time the door was unlocked from the outside. Upon each entry, a special code had to be keyed in to disarm the system until the next time someone entered the space.

Some called the measure tiring or even nerve-inducing. She understood those sentiments, but to her, it was nothing but reassuring. It was a small price to pay for safety, in her mind. More than anything, she was grateful that Ebenezer took her safety so seriously.

She reached up and keyed in the code, her manicured nails tapping polished nickel buttons quickly. By now, she knew the code so well that she could enter it without even looking at the numbers.

A gentle beep sounded from the device, and Constance grinned in satisfaction. “There we go! Now then, miss ma’am Prudie, let’s—”

Without warning, the mastiff began to howl and bark. The volume of her bellows was so loud that the windows seemingly rattled in place.

His cheap cologne gave him away to Prudence before Connie had realized.

Just as the door was about the latch, a gloved hand shot through and stopped it from falling shut. The hand was large and masculine, adorned in a nondescript leather glove that would have been commonplace for anyone in London to wear, especially during the ideas of winter.

However, Constance recognized the glove instantly. She only knew one man who wore camel-colored leather gloves, complete with gold buttons at the wrists.

“Well, well,” Orin Spiegler grumbled, throwing the door open hard enough that the knob punched the drywall and left a hole. “The Sun was right.”

“Orin.” The sound came out as a choked gasp rather than a question.

“Normally I don’t read the tabloids, but when I saw that you hadn’t sent me a wedding invitation, I thought I’d check in with you personally.”

On stockinged feet, Constance stepped back from the front door. Shock stole her voice and ability to move, causing her to creep away with the speed of maple syrup through a frozen tap.

After a terrifying beat of silence, the man raised his arms like a preacher in a sermon and let out a loud laugh. “Well, don’t just stand there! Why don’t you give your ex-husband a hello, at least? After all, I flew all the way here. Don’t I at least get a kiss?”

She felt physically sick, as if she could vomit right there on the spot. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I’m banned from London? I’m here on business, Connie. Something our little … separation almost ruined for me. Don’t worry, I have no hard feelings about it, so don’t worry yourself into an episode over it.”

“I have a restraining order,” she said, her voice steady but far from confident. The acid behind his stare made it hard for her to control the tremble in her voice.  “Y-You know that. You can be in London, of course, but…”

“I know you do, my little pumpkin-haired princess,” he said, his tone as condescending as his verbiage, “But, I was in the neighborhood. You know, the financial district, and saw you walking that fabulous little pup of yours.”

Her eyes flitted to the keypad, the red ‘Alarm’ button in the corner practically screaming to be pressed. She wanted to lunge to it, but her ex-husband’s broad-shouldered frame blocked it readily. Perhaps she could shove him, she thought, though her gut knew that she could move him even if she tried her hardest.

She’d never been able to shove him away before, after all.

Prudence continued to growl at the strange man, her canines flashing, and her impressive berth only accentuated by her splayed pose. Lowering herself close to the floor, she looked ready to spring up and attack, like an overwound toy or Jack-in-the-box.

“Easy there, princess. I’m not going to—”

When she snapped at his leg, his brow lifted in surprise.

“Temperamental, are we?” Orin sneered, “I never did like dogs. Too needy.”

His words sounded assured, but Constance couldn’t help but observe that the man had shrank away from her the tiniest bit.

He was scared of Prudence, she realized. Good. This was very good!

“She’s weary of strangers,” she offered, tilting her head down slightly.

“Didn’t seem weary when you were in the lobby.”

Her stomach congealed. So, he hadn’t imagined the feeling after all. “T-Then you must have also seen that I was talking with building security.”

“Who are just SO great at their jobs!” Orin mockingly posed, index finger bouncing in the air as if to tap an invisible period on the end of his statement. “Truly, bravo! I mean, all I had to do was walk in and speak to that lovely receptionist. She heard my accent, and I said I was a friend of yours. I told her I’d seen you while walking by and had just missed you in the lobby. Not a lie, after all. Then it was just a matter of choosing the right floor.”

“The right floor?”

“Everyone knows where your decrepit fiancé lives,” he said. “Exterior shots are all over the gossip rags. You should read them, actually! They say some things about you. Mostly about your breasts and age. I can’t believe they think you’re a 32DD. We all know you’re a—”

“Please stop,” she pleaded, holding a hand up, “I don’t care. I really don’t.”

“You should. They’re short-changing you, babe.”

“Don’t call me that. Also, don’t insult Ebenezer.”

“Well, anyway, images of you at your last dress-fitting kept me and all the other guys very entertained in the airport,” he said with a smile. “You ladies all looked so cuuuute! I’m glad you had some friends for this fitting. It must have been so lonely last time, with just you and your parents.”

“I-I…”

“I recognized Bess – fucking gorgeous lady, tell her I said that—”

“I won’t.”

“—and the other two … Addie and Gal, yes?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“So, I’m right. Fah-bulous. Are they taken?”

“In every way, shape and form,” she said flatly. “Are you satisfied?”

Orin chuckled a little too hard, until the sound petered out into a garish gasp. Then, his eyes drifted out the nearby apartment window, as if he was lost in thought. She almost thought she could sneak past him, until his eyes flashed back to her at the speed of an owl’s.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Connie?” he asked. “You. Here. With him.”

Constance furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand the question.”

“You’re not going to fall for the same song and dance again, are you?” he asked. “Doesn’t this feel familiar to you? The courting? The sweet nothings? You, sitting alone in an apartment, biding your time until he grows bored with you?”

It was Constance’s turn to laugh, but this time, in disbelief. “You and Ebenezer are nothing alike. Not in any way.”

“Now, that can’t be true,” he objected. “After all, you love him … and you loved me. Once upon a time, maybe, but you did. We must have a few similarities.”

“I loved the man I thought you were.”

“Perhaps we have acting in common.”

“No.”

“You think this one will last?” he asked. “That a man with his wealth and status will be satisfied with just you?”

“You have no right to—”

"Want a little insider tip?” Orin asked with a smirk. “Think of men like cabs, babe. When they're available, their light goes on. Ping! They wake up one day and decide they're ready to settle down, have a couple brats, they’re like a driver on-duty. The light goes on, and then, it’s a race against all the other cabs to get their next passenger. The next woman they pick-up? BOOM! That's the one. Marriage, kids, life-rending depression.”

Constance shook her head. “You might be like that—”

“—All men are like that—”

“—But Ebenezer isn’t.”

The guffaw that left Orin’s lips was as strident as cannon fire. “You think you're living a sweet little love story? You got lucky. You were just a pretty, desperate redhead on the curb. He pulled up, and you couldn't wait to hop in, couldn't you?"

Constance couldn’t look Orin in the eyes. “I-I…accepted Ebenezer’s kindness, yes. But I assure you, he was kind to me out of the goodness of his heart. He never expected anything in return because he’s a good man. A generous man!”

“Right,” Orin said. “And yet…here you two are. Living together. Engaged.”

“Stop.”

“A therapist would call this a troubling pattern, Con. You’re the common denominator here.”

“You were the one who asked me to marry you!” she asserted, her voice starting to hike in volume.

Then, to her horror, a grin split his face. “Oh … that’s right. I asked you. I flicked my little light on when I chatted you up, bought you a few vodka sodas on starry rooftops, compared you to a Botticelli angel, held your hand when we ice-skated in Rockefeller Center …I pulled my car up to your curb. And what did you do?”

He stepped forward again, which sent Prudence into a frenzy of howling and barking. Given the volume of her bellowing voice, it wouldn’t be long before neighbors (or security) investigated the noise.

This time, however, he didn’t shrink away. Instead, he reared his foot back and landed a solid kick right in her gut. The force sent Prudence staggering back enough for her to lose her footing.

Constance blanched at the sight. “Prudence!”

“You, a beautiful but dense girl from Manhattan,­ saw my light was on … and jumped right in.”  

She flew to her knees and went to check on Prudence’s condition. Thankfully, it wasn’t a second of checking later that the mastiff was back to her senses. It appeared his blow had merely stunned her temporarily. With one shake of the head, she was right on her feet again.

Prudence weighed more than Orin by about twenty pounds, and while she had been holding back before, his attack only shattered her self-restraint. She lunged forward, jaws snapping and gullet foaming with rage. The force of her attack sent him to his elbows with a bone-rattling thump. Prudence didn’t cite or claw at him, but she did make a lot of noise while pinning is chest.

As predicted, the commotion caused doors to open in the hall, and Constance heard the concerned questions of neighbors.

While Orin was distracted, Constance bolted up and slammed the ‘Alarm’ button on the system. Along with the loud, reverberating barks from Prudence, the rhythmic blaring of the alarm created further commotion.

Pressing the button also automatically pinged authorities of an emergency.

It would also notify Ebenezer via cell message – a notification she knew he never silenced.

She wasn’t answering.

Ebenezer had no doubt he’d find at least twenty traffic tickets in his mailbox in the coming weeks, but the alarm had been activated at his flat and Constance wasn’t answering her phone.

If only he’d been at his usual office; he could have sprinted home, but no. Today of all days, he had been in a meeting outside of London, and had had to drive 15 minutes out to meet a particularly uppity client at their private estate.

Ebenezer had a feeling that the man would become an ex-client after how he’d dashed out after barely a word to Bob and his twin brother Ebenezar, but he couldn’t even care.

“Dammit, MOVE!” he swore, avoiding a flock of cyclists as he sped down A2198.

Once again, his call went to voicemail, and he immediately dialed again. All he could focus on was driving (AKA not crashing the car) and calling Constance’s phone over and over.

He left one pleading voicemail after another, begging her to call him back and also letting her know that he would be there soon.

When he finally had a visual of his building, he saw police parked out front, but their lights were off. Most importantly, there were no ambulances or other emergency vehicles. This slightly ebbed his panic, but not enough for him to coast into the building’s private garage and find a spot. Instead, he pulled up and parked in the street with alignment that could generously be described as cattywampus.  

Again, he couldn’t care. Let them blast his windshield with parking tickets

Pushing the doors open and sprinting into the lobby, two of the guards immediately went to his side. Their goal had likely been to inform him of the situation, but their insistence upon pleasantries was too much chatter for him to handle.

“Sir, we’re glad you’re here!” one said, a light sheen of perspiration already coating their face. “Thank goodness, we were just going to—”

“Talk while you walk with me,” Ebenezer ordered, his voice practically bladed with tension. “Now.”

Instead of taking the elevator, he keyed into a private side staircase and took the steps up two at a time. Even professional firefighters would have had a hard time keeping up with the man.

Ten floors passed in the blink of an eye. Upon arriving at his flat’s level, he threw the door open to his floor to see a gaggle of officers crowded around his open doorway at the end of the hall. For a moment, his heart stopped at the sight before him.

Then, amidst a sea of curious onlookers and uniformed constables, he saw a flash of red hair. He would have recognized that hue anywhere.

“Constance!” he yelled, running down the hall at the sight of her.

Upon hearing her name, she turned to face him, her face puffy and her eyes blazing from worry. She was sitting on the floor in the doorway of their flat, Prudence seated at her side and nuzzling her face. They were okay, he thought, barely resisting tears.

She didn’t have time to speak before Ebenezer had shoved his way through the crowd and enveloped her in his embrace. They crashed together like comets compelled together by gravity.

Once in his arms, he felt her sink into him desperately, as if she was a small animal seeking solace from a hunter. “E-Ebenezer …I’m so sorry.”

He shushed her kindly but immediately, his wide palm falling protectively across her back.  He urged her closer, and she obliged with a thankful sob, her shoulders shaking as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay, Sunshine,” he whispered, turning slightly to place a kiss upon her damp cheek. “Gods, I’m so relieved to see you. I-I…can’t even tell you what I was thinking on the drive … ”

As they embraced, Scrooge heard nearby officers chatter about what had just transpired.

“The bloke said he was here on business, but his name isn’t pulling up any employers here or Stateside.”

Business? Stateside?

With Constance still folded tightly in his arms, he looked over to see a smaller group of officers that had gathered around … someone. He squinted his eyes, as if trying to peer through the physical entities that blocked his view.

“Is he going to need a transport for any injuries?” a voice radioed in. “The dog jumped him, but all injuries look superficial.”

Dog? Were they talking about Prudence? He looked over to see that Prudence was staying close to Connie, hugging her flank closely while laying his head upon one of his bent thighs.

“Hey there, girl,” he whispered, his hand giving the base of her skull a scritch. “Are you okay?”

Prudence whispered, and Scrooge’s confusion deepened.

“No, we checked him out and he’s going straight to holding,” the officer replied, his tone clipped. “He’s breached a restraining order.”

“Acting in contempt of court, huh?” another repeated, followed by a huff of amusement. “Stupid bastard.”

Ebenezer’s blood ran cold. The realization of what had transpired hit him like a ton of bricks.

All other senses; his sight, his hearing, his sense of touch; faded away, and all he became conscious of was a building fury that threatened to turn his vision red. There, through the narrowest gap of legs, he saw the distinct pale skin and dark-hair of the man that had tormented his fiancée for decades.

“You.” Ebenezer stormed to his feet and crossed the hallway in two steps. He was driven by blinding anger, which caused his heart to buzz like a saw. With the posture of a lion spotting wounded prey, he surged forward and grabbed the front of Orin’s coat. The over-starched lapels crunched under the older man’s fingers from the strength of his grip.

At this lunge, panic ensued.

“Mr. Scrooge, sir—!”

“W-wait! Ebenezer!”

Ebenezer paid the others no mind as he hauled Orin close to his face, their brows nearly touching as he eyed the man like a Minotaur out for blood.

Orin wheezed out a laugh. Only then did he notice the light bruising and raised marks on the man’s neck, each swatch standing out brightly against his sickly skin.

Oh, he would absolutely reward Prudence for her hard work.

“I should put your hard head through this bloody wall, Spiegler.”

“Then we’d both be off the jail, wouldn’t we?” Orin taunted. When he grinned, he saw his teeth outlined in red. “See, I tried to tell Sunshine that you and I were more alike than different.”

"Did you?" he asked, practically snorting in amusement.

"Yes, but I see that time in sleepy little London has made her more of an airheaded bimbo than she already was. She just couldn't seem to grasp the concept."

He raised his other arm in preparation to dislocate Orin’s jaw first-hand, but paused just short of contact. Unfortunately, the goblin of a man had a point, and he was in no mood to be forced away from his wife. Or go to prison.

With a furious sneer, Ebenezer threw the man against the wall in release. The officers fumbled to catch him, but understandably, made no effort to chastise the philanthropist for his reaction.

“Get him out,” Ebenezer whispered, his shoulders hiked up to his ears, and his voice oozed with venom.

“W-Would you like us to—”

“I want everyone who isn’t a resident on this floor off of it,” he seethed, his tone oozing with disappointment. “Any officers that need to question us can come inside.”

When his gaze fell on Constance, still huddled next to Prudence on the ground, his icy gaze melted into something more careful and tepid. Slowly, he sank back onto his knees and pulled her into another hug.

“Come one,” he urged, his voice soft and so, so tender. “Let’s go inside. I’m with you.”

The entire questioning process was as cut-and-dry as it could have been, considering the circumstances. With the assistance of Orin’s digital footprint in addition to the less than glowing testimonies Constance and Ebenezer offered, the authorities were able to piece together a likely series of events. It seemed Orin had lied about his employment status. He was a self-employed crypto investor after having a falling out with his New York office and had no reason to be in London for any professional reason.

“There is … much for us to look into,” a constable said as they jotted notes in a small flipbook. “Ms. DoGoode, you said he made a comment about watching you enter the lobby. Yet, you say you didn’t see him?”

“N-No,” she answered, her voice sanded with exhaustion from the day’s events. “I felt like someone was watching me, and Prudence was looking out the front window too. I … thought maybe I was imagining things? I never actually saw him, though. Not until I keyed in and he grabbed the door.”

“Ah.” The officer scrawled another note.

“H-How did he get up onto the floor?” Constance asked. Prudence sat to her right, head in her lap, and Ebenezer sat to her left. One of his hands cupped her knee, his thumb moving in gentle rotations in one of the indents there. It was a soothing reminder of his presence that she was beyond grateful for.

“We’ve already interrogated the main office and are currently looking into where the oversight occurred.”

“That should be no issue, as there are cameras all over the building,” Scrooge chimed in, peering at the officers with impatience. “That should alleviate much confusion.”

“Yes, it should sir,” one replied. “We’re working to secure that footage properly.”

“Good.”

Constance watched her fiancé in intrigue. In all the time they’d known each other and dated, she had never seen him stare anyone down before, and she had to confess … it was quite unnerving. Regardless of how he addressed the officers, his hand remained tender when touching her.

Meanwhile, while the couple chatted with authorities, other members of the growing Scrooge family pack (comprised of the many friends, associates, and relatives that the twins had connected with) texted in. His twin brother, Ebenezar, had known something was amiss. He’s watched him sprint from the meeting after all.

Upon receiving a brief overview of what happened, as well as a request to inform the others, the messages trickled in steadily:

>>Ebenezar: I knew something was wrong when you left … but I had no idea that it was that bad, Sammy.

>>Bess: I will KILL that man, I swear.

>>Ebenezar: If the authorities half-ass detaining him, they’re not going to like the next letter from our firm that crosses their desk.

...

>>Addie: Don’t worry about any errands! Tom and I can bring things your way!

>>Tom: You bet we can. Are you both set for dinner tonight? I can run something over.

...

>>Harry: I’m so sorry, Uncle. Can Hela and I do anything? Just say the word.

...

>>Bob: I just called Mr. Ebenezar as well, and we’re going to divide and conquer at work. Consider it all done.

>>Ethel: What cell is he in? I’ve been taking axe-throwing lessons, and my aim is damn good.

...

>>Gal: If you guys need some door security that’s worth a damn, Jake and I are free tonight.

...

After one last swipe of their men, the interviewer cleared their throat, the loudness of it conveying a sense of finality.

“We’ll keep you both apprised of any updates,” the officer said as they pushed themselves up from the sofa. With a nod to their partner, they reached across the table to shake Scrooge’s hand. An odd gesture, all things considered, but he did reciprocate, though his eyes remained as sharp as a steel edge.

“I certainly hope those updates include information on whether Mr. Spiegler’s detainment details change,” he said. “Clearly an order from the court is not enough to stop him.”

“Absolutely, sir. We’ll keep you both posted.”

Constance was relieved the questioning was over, and allowed her fiancé to take the reins at leading the officers out the door. After a few more pleasantries, she heard the reverberating sound of the door latch and the telltale beeping of the security system turning on for the night.

When she looked up, she saw Ebenezer tentatively approaching her. His footfalls were soft, as if he was walking on snow. His touch was even softer as he reached down to push a few strands of auburn hair back from her face.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she started. Her tone was borderline formal in manner and delivery, as if she was speaking to an associate rather than the man she wanted to marry.

Ebenezer’s gentleness turned to confusion swiftly. “Goodness, whatever for?”

She paused to blink back tears before answering. Another apology left her.

“I’m sorry for how … for how I seem to always make your life more difficult,” Constance said slowly. She directed her gaze at a notch in the hardwood flooring, unable to look her fiancé in the eyes. She knew in that moment that, if she glimpsed his face, she knew she would cry again. “I-I should have noticed him sooner. I should have trusted my gut better.”

“No, sweetheart—”

“I should have trusted Prudence,” she said, looking down at said pup, whose head still rested in Constance’s lap. Upon seeing her sweet, droopy eyes peer up at her, Constance caved as a sob rattled her body. “H-He kicked Prudence, Ebenezer! She was so brave, protecting me, a-and I let her get hurt!”

For a moment, Ebenezer couldn’t find the words to speak. Did she … really care more about Prudence than her own safety?

Seeing Constance cry spurred London's finest lady (and treat aficionado) to lift her head and lick the woman’s face, lapping away her tears. She was also incredibly ticklish there, and Prudence’s kisses dissolved her tears instantly. With peals of laughter leaving her, Ebenezer leaned in and gave Prudence an affectionate kiss on the forehead.

“She’s a strong girl,” he assured, grinning broadly. “Aren’t you, Prudence?”

She barked in agreement, her warm and deep ‘ruff’ filling the space.

Constance huffed out another laugh, always amazed at how the pup seemed to understand conversations better than some humans. Although Prudence had done a sterling job at ridding Constance’s face of her tears, Ebenezer still fished a clean handkerchief from his trouser pocket. He dabbed her face gently, careful not to pull or tug her skin.

“Tomorrow, just to be safe, we’ll take her to the vet,” he promised. “We’ll get her looked over and make sure she’s in tip-top shape. Trust me, Prudence has had many children accidentally tumble over her before. She helps the Cratchit children decorate at Christmas, after all!”

Constance giggled again, covering her mouth sheepishly as she did so.

Just the sight of her smile was enough to lift a huge weight from his shoulders. While the entire afternoon had been an exercise in panic, all that mattered to him was that she was safe.

“Now,” he said, placing the handkerchief in her hand, then caging her smaller hands in his, “What we’re also going to do is take a holiday. We’re going to spend some time away from the flat and let things calm down.”

The suggestion brightened Constance’s eyes, but that excitement was almost immediately tempered. “What about work?”

“I’ll call in some favors. My brother is a damn fine businessman – definitely better at handling clients than I am. Don't tell him I said so, though. Bob will handle the books. And if all else fails? Well, being a private practice has many benefits.” He then paused to rub his chin in thought. “Actually, it might be good to close our doors for a few weeks to give everyone a break.”

“Y-You think?” she asked. “Wait, but what about…?”

“Profits?” he asked, unable to hold back a smirk. “You’ve seen our accounts. We could shut down for the next thousand years and be right as rain. And that’s a moderate estimate.”

Again, that beautiful smile came back. Mere hours before he’s suddenly been faced with the possibility of never seeing that smile again, and the thought of that physically sickened him.

“Sunshine, what you said earlier…” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I…never want you to think that I see your ex-husband’s actions as a reflection of you. When you say you don’t want to make life more difficult for me, I realize that I cannot even begin to describe all the ways your have made my life immeasurably better since we first met.

“Since you came into my life, I’ve been changed in ways that, frankly, I thought I were beyond me. I thought I was too old to experience many of these lovely, sentimental emotions that poets love to wax on about.” He laughed, tossing his head back and staring at the ceiling. “Gods, I’ve never met someone who makes me feel so excited every time I’m proven wrong. It’s a feeling I’d wish every human could feel.”

Transfixed, she could only watch as he slowly turned to face her again. “You have made me excited to face each day. You’ve inspired me to notice small things – before meeting you, I don’t think I ever paid attention to those fuzzy caterpillars that come onto the sidewalks after it rains, or the way Prudence’s nose always wiggles slightly when she’s about to sneeze.”

“Really?” she asked. Her tone sounded so hopeful that it practically broke his heart.

“Yes!” he confessed. The answer couldn’t rush from his lips fast enough. “When I was calling your phone earlier, I…started thinking the worst. I suddenly couldn’t bear the idea of walking into that flat again if you weren’t there, or going back to work and seeing your desk empty. Seeing your coats line dup so neatly in our hall closet. Seeing your make-up on our bathroom sink. Not smelling your perfume on the pillow beside mine. Not hearing you have a sneeze attack every time you smell pepper, or not being able to race you down to the front lobby when we order take-away.”

Constance’s breath caught in her throat as she noticed tears prickling the corner’s of her love’s steely eyes as he rambled.

“When I tell you that there is no possible way you could make my life worse by being a part of it, I’m deathly serious,” he confessed. A tear darted down his cheek, and as he attempted to stifle a sob of his own, she dabbed it away with the handkerchief.

As if this gesture proved his point, a puff of laughter escaped him.

“The only possible way you could make my life harder or worse … is if you were no longer in it.”

It was his turn to cry as the tension of the day caught up to him, and he felt the floodgates break. Blast, he hated how easily he could be brought to tears sometimes.

What made it easier, however, was feeling Constance’s embrace circle him. Her hands latched at the base of his neck as she leaned in and covered his broader body with hers. His arms circled her waist, securing her in place, keeping her safe and present with him.

For many hours, they stayed like that, silently sobbing and embracing each other as the anxiety of the day left their bodies in literal waves. By the time they’d both exhausted their eyes to achy redness, sleep lingered over them with overwhelming insistence.

With mutual understanding, both parted ways to make some small changes before laying down. Ebenezer loosened his tie and Constance removed her constricting pantyhose, leaving her only in her blouse and pencil skirt. He gave her an impish whistle, and she threw that garment at him playfully.

Using her fiancé’s head as a pillow, she curled up atop his body and nuzzled her face against his shirt. Her ear laid squarely over his heart, where she could hear its steady and strong beat just inches away. Ebenezer moved a hand to the small of her back to not only make sure she stayed in place atop him and didn’t roll off, but to remind her of his presence.

“I’ll watch the door,” he promised, kissing the top of her head. “You sleep. I insist.”

His broad hand gave her waist a reassuring squeeze, hugging her close.

“And I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

>>Hello! You’re reached the voicemail for Constance DoGoode. I’m away from the phone right now, but leave your name and number, and I will return your call as soon as possible. Thank you!

… <BEEP>

<<Sunshine, it’s me. Please, please tell me you’re okay. I need to know you’re safe. I-I’m sorry for calling you over and over, and … fuck, I promise I’ll be there soon, angel. I promise. I love you, okay. I love you so much. I-I’m going to call again. Okay, love you. Please call me.”

[robertfettuccine]

Killed a spider today. Felt very powerful. I had a spray bottle full of dish soap water and I was like Jason Bourne but for spiders.

Spider story:

Ok story time bc idk I think this is really funny

So I’m at a friends house and we’re talking in her basement and it’s getting late and I’m like man I should probably go but I really gotta pee I’m gonna use your bathroom before I go. So I get in to the bathroom and I turn the light on and I’m getting ready to go pee right? Like a normal person. And this roughly 50-cent piece sized black spider with super angular pointy legs comes crawling out from under the baseboards right at me. And so I’m like absolutely Not I am not gonna go pee with this spider Right Here so I exit the bathroom but I leave the lights on for spider seeing purposes.

Now my friend is absolutely terrified of spiders, like definitely it’s a pretty bad phobia. She does not do well with spiders she tends to just freeze up completely. So I’m like hey hon I gotta let you know there’s a medium sized spider in your bathroom. So she immediately gets on the piece of furniture farthest away from the floor and starts panicking. To make matters worse, she’d left her glasses upstairs and wouldn’t be able to see the spider anyway, so she’s freaking out.

Now I hate spiders just as much as the next gal (I’m pretty scared of spiders actually I won’t get within 5 feet of one if I can help it and they absolutely make my skin crawl. Nothing deserves that many legs) but I’m now thinking how can I fix this so my friend can sleep tonight. So I start looking around for dish soap or something in the basement but alas. All of a sudden this Bastard creeps himself out from under the bathroom door at Mach Jesus straight towards my friend and so I’m like hey don’t panic but spider has exited the bathroom. Naturally, she panics, so I grab the nearest cleaning supply looking item, which happens to be carpet cleaning spray, and I just hit him with it.

Carpet cleaning spray unfortunately does nothing to spiders, as I learned, other than make them wet. So this spider is now wet and annoyed and he beelines it for the really dark stained wood cabinets in the basement kitchenette. I no longer have eyes on the spider. So I just start spraying under the cabinets in the general Spider Direction, but this spray bottle sprays a nice cone shaped fine mist, not a solid line of spray, so that doesn’t do much. I finally get my friend down off of the table and standing on the floor (huge win) and we start Spider Bowling.

Spider Bowling is a game invented by Me in Today where if you know the general area where the spider is you ball up paper towels and throw them at that area until you see movement. We did this with terrible aim until we briefly flushed the spider out, but then we lost him again. About 0.5 seconds after seeing Bathroom Bastard under the cabinets, another of the exact same type of spider crawls out of the baseboards opposite the cabinetry. Enter: Baseboard Bitch.

So we’ve lost track of Bathroom Bastard under the cabinets, but we’ve got full eyes on Baseboard Bitch. Or at least I do, my friend still can’t see. Now I’m hesitant to spray this one bc the carpet cleaner doesn’t seem to be doing much, and it would just send this one back to that from whence he came. Not a fan of lack of visuals on spider. So I send my friend upstairs to go get her glasses while I keep an eye on the kitchenette for the two evil eight legged guys.

Unsurprisingly, Baseboard Bitch returns to his home under the baseboards, and I have now lost track of both the spiders. I don’t want to spray under the crack in the baseboards to get Baseboard Bitch to come out again bc what if there’s a lot more where he came from? These guys are incredibly fast for medium spiders and I am Not about to be swarmed by that many legs.

I turn my attention back to Spider Bowling under the cabinets, hoping for some sign of Bathroom Bastard, but I’m terrible at bowling. So I leave my friend downstairs on spider lookout duty and I run up to her kitchen to find a spray bottle and fill it with water and dish soap, which I Know kills spiders. As I’m screwing the lid on the spray bottle I hear very quiet screaming from the basement and run down the stairs to find Baseboard Bitch just confidently creeping his way towards my friend, now perched back on her Very Tall Chair.

From the stairs I had a perfect shot at the spider and, in what may be the coolest moment of my life, I triple-tapped his ass dead center with perfect aim and dish soaped him to death. The new spray bottle had a nice high-pressure stream of soap water, way better than the previous one’s sad mist cone. I felt so cool. Newly armed with Spider Gun, I hit Baseboard Bitch a few more times just to make sure he was dead.

We then went after Bathroom Bastard, which was much easier with the help of our Spider Gun, and he was soon vanquished as well. Now my friend can sleep in peace and I can feel cool knowing that I’m Jason Bourne for spiders.

Alas, now my skin feels spidery and I hate having hair. I was very brave though.

Bonus frantic google searches:

[purplepirate123]

🌟 Directors commentary for a scene of your choosing from AOMAOY pleaseee🌟

Ahh what fun. Thanks so much for the ask!

The scene I'll provide commentary on is also the scene that was easily one of the most fun to write. It's actually the transition between Chapter 1 and Chapter 2, when an unsuspecting Kaiba gets home from an early morning run to find someone (Kisara) in his house. And he... flips out. Not in the "I'm-going-to-rant-and-rage-and-make-everyone-scared-of-me" way that we see in the show/manga, but in a way that shows us just how much he's changed: with panic, and not a small amount of anxiety even though he knows what's going on almost immediately.

Picture it from Kisara's point of view (which we don't and will not get for any part of the story): she's doing her usual routine in this absolutely gorgeous, yet almost totally empty house. She's never met the guy who lives here but she knows he is or was famous for some card game that she never much cared about.

Suddenly, the side door opens and in walks this tall, lanky dude who's all sweaty and flushed. She stares at him as he wipes his face with a towel, most likely as he's murmuring incoherently to himself (because if you don't think this bastard talks to himself almost constantly when he thinks he's alone you are WRONG). Then he puts on his glasses because his eyes are *total shit*, sees her and freezes.

So she's like "UUUMMMM OK THEN THIS MUST BE WHO LIVES HERE HE KINDA LOOKS LIKE THE GUY I'VE SEEN IN THE NEWS COOL" so she says hello, puts her stuff down and walks down the stairs to greet him. He's just STARING at her with this look of total panic/shock/horror on his face which is kinda freaky because his eyes are so big and blue and he's overall rather intimidating (It's Seto fucking Kaiba - I know we all love him but come on, the dude's terrifying) but she pushes it all aside by reaching out to shake his hand after introducing herself and WHAT DOES THIS BASTARD DO?! MOVE AT THE SPEED OF FUCKING LIGHT BACK INTO THE GARAGE WHENCE HE CAME, LEAVING THE DOOR TO SLAM IN HER FACE. Because apparently tall-sweaty-ripped-famous dude is terrified of this tiny-ass woman wearing sweatpants and wielding spray cleaner.

And she's like... "is it something I said?"

I've always thought Kaiba is (and has always been) a bit of a spazz*. Like, he has to be, right? He's a total ego-maniac control freak who has to be the best at everything all the time. The dude's mind is working a million miles a second and obviously he loses his cool a lot but it's nothing compared to what's going on inside. In this fic, he doesn't have the same drive and direction as he did in the series because of something that happened prior to it's beginning that he blames himself for. So all that energy that was directed at being the best at Duel Monsters has no where to go and it leaves him in something of a state, which we see so clearly illustrated here and in the scenes that follow. I love love love love writing characters that are rat-brained shits on the inside but have to pretend to be super suave and put-together on the out. Kaiba is that character for me.

Thanks again for the ask - and I'd like to officially announce that Chapter 7 of All of Me; All of You has just been posted to ao3! I hope you continue to enjoy the story as it unfolds. I'm having so much fun writing it and the support has been amazing <3

*UK readers: I know this term is one that has recently moved into the taboo sphere, but here in the states it just means someone is super hyper, type A and maybe little unhinged. Personally I use it all the time describe... myself...