#The one Ridiculously Violent Weirdo I always think of for this sort of thing is Karasuba from Sekirei

[puckish-rogue-archive-deux]

It's always funny when people I write with sometimes forget how ridiculously violent the Boss actually is. And I can't really blame them when I haven't really depicted that sort of thing here too often. But rest assured that no matter how many threads I write that involve him being a charismatic weirdo, there's a part of my brain that's always thinking "wouldn't it be interesting if he severed somebody's spine one day".

[waffliesinyoface]

had a realization just now about Familiar of Zero, aka, a fan-favorite series for crossover nonsense to happen in. It’s got the perfect setup for serious fics, crack fics, romance fics, you name it, you can literally throw any other character into Saito’s role and make wild shit happen.

That said.

The premise of the series hinges on the character in question not immediately going “fuck this, lol” and bailing on the ritual. Once it’s completed you can generally finagle a situation in which they stick around even when Louise is being... well, start-of-the-series-Louise, just by handwaving it as a subconscious compulsion from the Gandalfyr runes. However, there’s still a minute-ish long gap between the character being summoned and Louise completing the ritual with a binding kiss.

Which means some of the characters who’d make for absolutely fantastic disasters in Halkegenia likely aren’t going to let that actually happen.

For example, if you want to summon Kakashi Hatake into halkegenia, there’s three realistic outcomes. He either instantly vanishes and starts doing reconnaissance, he comes out swinging, or he fucks off to go find someone who knows enough to fix this. In none of these situations, is he going to allow this random teenage girl to kiss him, because he’s ten years her senior and does not need this right now. (Any of the akatsuki are in the same boat, except most likely “comes out swinging” are plans A through Z)

[streets-in-paradise]

Roadside Bet

American Gods and Percy Jackson crossover - Part 1

Word Count: 1767

Characters: Wednesday, Shadow, Eira ( Vanir demigoddess OC) 

Relationships: Platonic. 

Summary: Setted in season 1 of American Gods. Mr Wednesday takes his crew on a trip to New York hoping to recruit a powerful ally. Shadow starts asking questions about him and his curiosity unleashes a silly argument. 

Warnings: Some ageists jokes, the camp half blood concept from Percy Jackson is interpreted in American Gods’s style. 

Disclaimers: This serves as an introduction for my self indulgent attempt of writing fanfic including Sean Bean as Zeus in the American Gods universe. I couldn’t find fiction for Sean Bean’s Zeus and he’s so fine that I can't deal with it so I decided to include him in an idea I had previously in process for an American Gods fanfic. I apologise for any possible mistakes,english is not my native language and this is a translation. 

Tags: @yerevasunclair​. Our conversations about Sean’s Zeus inspired this. I’m tagging you in both parts. Thank you so much for the inspiration. 

I hope you ‘ll enjoy this. Thanks for reading

With the exception of Wednesday's bad mood, the trip was not having any major setbacks. The old man was quite unbearable because he hated New York and its exorbitant modernity, but he knew that this was a trip he was obliged to take. If he closed the deal he set out to make, he would gain a powerful ally, perhaps the most powerful one available. 

With only a few miles to go, he switched places with Shadow because he wanted to drive to relieve stress. Meanwhile, to alleviate the boredom during the break, he started to chat with Eira. The girl was sprawled out in the back seat listening to music on an old MP3 player dating from 2002. Shadow signaled her to take off a headset and pay attention to him. Listening to them, Mr. Wednesday rebuked her

“I told her to get rid of every modern toy before following us but she never listens. Eira!! Turn that rubbish off before I destroy it myself.”

“ Chill out, old man. This is ancient history technologically speaking. It doesn’t have wifi connection, or bluetooth, or anything. Nobody can try to track us through this, even the boy must have forgotten these things existed. It’s as safe as your car’s radio.” she replied in a tone that showed annoyance. 

 Shadow laughed, always amused to see the boss and his new co-worker arguing as a family. Wanting to pry into what she was hearing, he reached out to grab the earpiece she had taken out of her ear and placed it over his.

“ What’s that language?  Greek, I think? “ he commented about the music 

“Yeah, it 's greek. I’m getting ready for our next stop.” she explained. 

 “ Greeks? After what I experienced with the russians some time ago i thought we were going to New York to have a meeting with the japanese mafia or something like that. All your business partners seem to have a thing with extremely violent threats. “ he complained

“Don’t be so harsh with Bogo. Most people think he is scary and disgusting but i think he is great. He may be a bit of a psycho weirdo, he makes meat uncomfortable for everyone and sometimes he throws his cigarette smoke in your face but he is a very fun dude “ 

“ Bogo? Did you nicknamed him? He is a serial murderer who wants my head. “

“ We both live in Chicago, my mom tends to know everyone there and everyone knows her. I know him since i was a child, he is like a grumpy grandpa to me.”

That statement left him a bit shocked. Mainly because he did not imagine Czernobog being friendly to anyone or even being seen as friendly. 

“  Do you know the greeks? “ he asked, taking the opportunity to prepare for what was to come

“ No, I never had the pleasure, that’s why I'm so excited. They do their own stuff by themselves, they don’t tend to be very cooperative with the rest. Need is what pushed everyone else to start cooperating and created the unstable bonds of solidarity you had seen so far. They have their own functional system, they don’t need help from anyone. Even if they were struggling i doubt they would ask for it or accept it.” 

“ Very secretive people. How will we convince them to join Mr Wednesday? “ 

“  Let that to me, dear boy.” the boss interrupted . ”They never pick a side, not with us and not with the News. They are always pretending they are better than everyone else in that fake copy of their Olympus they made to themselves when all they actually have is a bunch of brats. If the big conflict starts they will have to choose one side and that’s where we enter.”

“I’m very curious about them "she added .” Their strategy is fascinating. They have a family business that keeps them standing for a very long time in conditions others would only dream to have. They adapted by being themselves without selling to the News.” 

” So, greek mafia then? ”  Shadow asked,curious and worried in equal amounts. 

 ” Never call them like that ever again. That’s very insulting and they are famous for being very arrogant and easy to irritate. Theo will carbonize you if he hears you calling him a mob boss. ” 

” Theo is their boss? He is the one we are visiting? ” 

 ” That’s how we call him, nobody dares to use his full name in casual conversation so we picked a middle ground epithet between his tradition and ours. Names are powerful, Shadow. You don’t have to use them in vain. ” Eira explained. ” Honestly, I'm very excited to meet someone so powerful. Most of the still strong names out there had given up and sold their brands to the News but Theo and his people are still successful. They are living the lifestyle of the Old Country, or at least the closest copy they can get in America. Wednesday is salty because he was never able to agrupate our kind in a similar project. My work for him is the closest thing he got, I’m one of the very few children of his associates who got invested and that’s only because my mother kept me with her. I’m not precisely the rule, that’s why practically i grew up to be here now. ” 

Shadow started to get severly worried .The repeated comment about the power of the people who were going to see kept him on his toes. He didn't want to get into any more trouble. 

 ” Do you want to give me a list of stuff to avoid when facing this Theo? I’m starting to freak out a bit and I don't understand a shit of what you are saying except for “ he is powerful”.  ” he asked her

 ” Don’t worry i will be there with you the whole time and i have more experience dealing with this sort of thing than you. Wednesday should have brought you to my mother’s home first instead of going straight to the russians when you visited our city. Don’t be scared, if you screw it up i will help you out”. 

Wednesday did not missed the chance to give his own advice as well

 ” The best for both of you is to keep your mouths shut as much as you can. “ he warned. ”Smile, nod in agreement, answer only what it’s being asked of you in the moment. This goes especially for you, young lady. ” he concluded in an imperative tone. 

”  Why the sudden care? You didn’t when we were visiting others. Are you afraid of him? ” she teased. 

”  Never, how could you suggest that? I’m restraining you because I don't want you to shift the focus of our negotiation. Theo has a weakness for youthful maidens like you.” he replied, scolding her again. 

 ” Then I should be the one negotiating with him.Wouldn’t be easier to convince him? ” 

” They don’t make him particularly weak, they are his favourite distraction. He enjoys himself when they get affected by his charm. Our business is the war and nothing more. Less you talk, less chances of distracting him too much.” 

Shadow was getting some entertainment with the discussion and intervened to give his opinion

” He doesn’t want this guy doing to you what he does to other women. ”he stated, mocking Wednesday. ” He wouldn’t admit it but he cares for you. He doesn’t want to see some horny old dude around you, thirsting over you and making you feel uncomfortable.” 

 ” My concern is not her safety, it’s her loyalty what troubles me. She works for me, she represents me. I don’t want her to forget it in front of him.” 

” Wednesday, he is older than you. ” Eira complained, trying to make him understand how ridiculous he sounded. ” Why would i care about him flirting with me? I’ll smile at him, pretend i’m pleased with his commentaries to keep him happy enough for you to close the deal and that’s all. It’s not the first time it happened, i’m used to casual flirting. Mad Sweeney had done it the few times we had seen each other,  some others associates of yours do it sometimes. The people we see tend to get flirty, Shadow has experienced it as well. It’s part of the job. ” 

” Mad Sweeney is a drunk loser, we are talking of real power here. Watch your steps and don’t embarrass me.”  Wednesday insisted. 

Shadow couldn’t stop laughing 

” Is he truly afraid you would be seduced by a man older than him? He has to be kidding, he is one of the oldest men i ever meet so how old is the greek ? 95?” 

 ” I may not be into the Technical Boy despite being closer in age terms to him than to most of the dudes we had dealt with but that doesn’t mean i’m into senior citizens. A middle ground is good, thanks. ” she joked, joining the mockery. 

” You two are too young to understand some very important aspects of how things work here. I’m warning you before it’s too late.”  Wednesday replicated.

 ” Whatever, thanks for the advice. I will have it in mind the next time an irresistable senior citizen shows up.You don’t know anything about my tastes in men and you are projecting your own crap on me. You may have a thing for girls of my age but not all of us get horny for grandpas. Some do and i don’t judge them but i’m not one of them.” 

 ” Wait and see. ” the old man replied in the same mocking tone. ” I would like to bet. I did it when Shadow fought the leprechaun, now it’s your turn. ” 

 ” We don’t have anything of value you may want.He just got out of jail and it’s not like mom would give me her Brisingamen just because i lost a bet to you. ”  

 ” Shadow, are you in? ”  the boss asked 

 ” What would i win? ” 

 ” If Eira feels condescendingly repulsed by the greek i double your weekly pay. If he charms her  i discount a percentage .” 

 ” If she doesn’t feel attracted to an old greek you duplicate my pay? Sure, i’m in. it is a safe bet, right?” he asked her 

” He talks bullshit, i’m not interested. Go ahead.” she assured him 

 ” I had never been happier standing in the middle of your silly fights. ” 

The youngsters spent the rest of the trip making fun of Wednesday's ridiculous bet, sure they were going to win. The old man laughed in their faces, he was playing with them again.  

Note: Theo is a name with two possible etymological origins, one greek and one germanic. A long time ago i read a theory that said the greek form Deos was associated with Zeus. I recently read that wasn’t the case but i still found it fitting for Zeus. 

[haroldosaur]

Advice for 16-year-olds (from someone who was once 16)

Always have good music as close to hand as possible.

Don’t be afraid to laugh, to goof off, to completely waste time you should spend learning just having fun. Those are the memories that’ll stick with you.

The vast majority of your peers are either going to be as stressed as you, or more stressed than you. Take heart from the fact that you’re not alone in your suffering, but don’t be afraid to be kind to someone if they’re stressing out, either.

Never stop consuming media. It doesn’t have to be the classics (or even books!), but anything that stimulates you and gets you learning, or inspired, or at least a bit creative.

However careful you think you’re being with your personal information on the internet, be at least 20% more careful than that.

Walking away is basically always an option.

People are going to see you as an adult and a child simultaneously, and you’re probably going to get the worst of both worlds (pressures of adulthood mixed with the lack of agency of childhood) – that’s just the curse of being a teenager.

If you condemn someone, make sure it’s for genuine ill intent and ill actions, and that they haven’t just made an honest mistake.

When it comes to drinking, make sure that the first time you get drunk, you’re with people you trust beyond any shadow of a doubt.

The sooner you discover your limits, as well as how you act when you’re drunk, the better.

If at all possible, don’t become famous.

(the rest is under the cut, it was getting long lol)

You can loop YouTube videos by right-clicking on the video while it’s playing and then pressing the ‘loop’ icon.

There’s always more free stuff on the internet than you’d think, but exercise caution and make sure you don’t download any viruses.

When people say they “aren’t political”, or don’t care about politics, the implication of that (which they may not even be conscious of) is that the system as it is now suits them just fine, and they have no desire to see the world change. Do with this information what you will.

If you’re looking for music to revise to, videogame soundtracks are the best. There are no vocals to distract you, they’re long, and they’re designed to immerse you and make you more focused.

Be careful when crossing roads – wherever you’re trying to get to may be important, but your life is importanter.

Make sure that your relationships with people are roughly give-and-take – if they’re initiating all the conversations, make the effort to reach out to them first sometimes. If you’re the one always making the effort – I mean, that one’s more situational, but I’d say you should at least consider the fact that you might care about them more than they care about you.

Have a handful of books, shows, or movies, that you think are really good and are always willing to talk about – bonus points if you can articulate exactly why you like them so much.

Being passionate and well-informed is a great combo!

Look at a sunset at least once a day.

On the subject of uni, I’ll just say this: going to a university is worth it for the accesses and privileges alone, because you’ll get to read all sorts of genuinely interesting papers and sources.

On the one hand, student debt. On the other hand, I got to read a paper about what drugs cave people might have been on. Just sayin’.

Keep an open mind, and never be afraid to admit that you’re wrong about something.

Make sure you can play an instrument at least passably.

A living space should be clean, but it should also be exciting, and be yours. Don’t be afraid to display yourself and the things you honestly care about.

Hugs are good. I’d recommend lots.

Know your history. There are always going to be influences on the present in the past, like them or not. (Also, when you try to say something about history and get it wrong, the actual historians will laugh at you. No-one wants to be laughed at by historians. They’re nerds. It’s like getting beaten up by someone less than 5 feet tall.)

Don’t get twitter. If you do, don’t make any posts, and stay out of the trending tab.

Always stay updated on your emails from school/university/work. As you grow older, the onus will be on you to remember things, so it’s up to you to keep on top of your responsibilities and workload.

Know at least three good dance moves (that you can easily bust out at any given time).

 Never listen to guys who criticise ‘girly’ videogames because ‘the entire game is just about doing tasks’ (like talking or farming or shopping). Point and shoot is also a task, it’s just violent. (or so sayeth the Tumblr post)

You feel old, which is fair, because this is the oldest you’ve ever been. But in a lot of ways, you’re still young, and it can sting to be reminded of that. Don’t get upset because you don’t have a lot of life experience yet – just listen to the people who do.

Of course, if someone is rude, patronising, or disrespectful to you just because you’re young, you have full right to tell them to shove it.

Never trust anyone who says treats animation like a genre instead of a medium.

Cite your sources whenever possible.

Question your sources whenever possible.

There’s a gannet to run between going along with the crowd, and being stubbornly contrarian at every opportunity. You’re gonna want to a look for a happy medium between these two.

Do lots of THINGS. You regret mistakes, but you regret the missed opportunities more.

The quickest way to double your money is to just keep it in your pocket.

Open a bank account as soon as you’re able - even if you get on well with your parents, it’s still nice to be able to buy stuff for yourself without having to run everything by them first

On that front, it’s definitely best to start saving up for stuff like a pension as soon as you can, if you’re in the position to do so.

Almost everyone looks at least a BIT ridiculous in photos, especially at the age of 16. The sooner you accept that and learn to laugh at yourself and others in equal measure, the happier you’ll be.

If you’re monolingual, try and learn another language. Go on. Do it. Make an effort.

There’s a reason that the classics are classics. Don’t disparage them and throw them away just because they’re old, or problematic.

Love yourself, love yourself, love yourself. You are your own best friend.

Legality and morality are so not the same thing.

That being said, breaking the law can definitely be more trouble than it’s worth. Don’t just do it for shits and giggles, yeah?

Cry if you want to. Especially if you’re a boy. I really think you’ll feel so much better if you let those feelings out instead of keeping them repressed.

You don’t owe internet strangers and weirdos a damn thing, least of all a debate.

Get outside and take a deep breath. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.

Life is a series of venn diagrams. It is possible to hold multiple opinions on a topic, and it is possible to think in shades of grey.

If nothing else, hang in there for at least one more year, because at the age of 17, you are granted the rank of Dancing Queen.

Um

That’s it.

OH WAIT

Never be afraid to tell people you love them.

[octopodeez]

Coffee Shop Soundtrack (Loki x Reader)

Here’s a fluffy coffee shop AU that absolutely no one asked for!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dedicated to @devilstrip pls enjoy this steaming-pile-of-shit-fic

**THIS CONTAINS NO INFINITY WAR SPOILERS**

His hand enveloped yours, and you froze.

It was a light feeling. A delicate touch that left your stomach tied in knots and your body tingling from adrenaline. The tips of his fingers rested over your knuckles, and stayed still, even as you twitched. It was an oddly intimate feeling, something extraordinarily gentle and human, which was the last thing you expected from someone like him. But it was nice. And you were losing yourself in your own fantasies. Your entire life had apparently been leading up to this moment, and you—

“May I have my coffee, please?”

You blinked as your brain caught up to speed on the current situation. Somehow the star-struck mix of shock and fear masqueraded as something romantic. This wasn’t love. It was just the feeling of being in the presence of a god.

“Sorry, yeah,” you released the cup and carefully snaked your hand back.

The look of calm remained on his face as he sighed heavily and muttered a brisk thank you, then walked away before you had the chance to return the pleasantry. You almost laughed at how ridiculous it was to think that you’d be able to say anything, anyways. You’d become something of a fish out of water; mouth awkwardly gaping as you gasped for air. Or words. Both were lost to you, regardless.

To your surprise, he took a seat in the back corner, rather than leaving. A bold move, seeing as he was hated by most of the general public for the stunts he pulled in New York a few years back. What was he doing back on Earth, anyways?

You got your answer as he pulled out a book.

Reading. Loki, god of mischief, brother of Thor, was sitting in a Starbucks, reading. And not one person seemed to care…not that there was even anyone around to notice.

Running your hand down your face, you checked your watch. It was almost 1am, and the skies were cloudy. The weather channel had been warning your area of a massive storm for nearly a week, and it was bound to start soon. High winds. Flash floods. The whole kit and caboodle. But your rent was due in a few weeks, and you were going to pay it, even if it meant drowning in sewer water and coffee.  

There was something surreal about being in a Starbucks during ridiculous hours of the night. Time seemed to slow, and despite the soft music in the background, there was a sort of silence that made you feel like you were teetering on the border of your dimension and a hazy dream. You could see the city lights outside your window, and if you squinted enough, Lake Michigan would appear on the horizon. There were always cars, even if they were few and far in between. There were always customers, too, who wandered in with the same frequency as the cars. Maybe fewer. And they all wanted the same thing: a large black coffee. These were not the type of people to use fancy words like venti, or ask for frilly drinks. They kept to themselves. They just wanted to get their caffeine fix and move on.

“Won’t one of your contraptions boil over and explode if you don’t pay closer attention?” He asked suddenly.    

“Uh, no,” you mumbled, feeling embarrassed that he caught you staring. You took a quick glance around your station, anyways, just to be safe.

He made a small, disinterested noise in response, as he licked his thumb and turned the page. The silence between you was now very awkward. At least on your end.

Looking for a way to busy yourself, you went to fumble with the music. It was one of the perks of working late hours: you were freed from the usual playlist of the same dozen songs. As long as you kept the volume soft and switched things back by the time your shift ended, you could listen to anything. Tonight, you opted for something relaxing, but with a steady tempo—the sort of thing that was good to clean to—and grabbed a mop.

Outside, you could hear rain begin hitting the pavement. Thunder rumbled in the distance and you cringed. You hated storms—or at least the noisy ones.

“I don’t care much for them, either.”

You clutched the handle of the mop and forced a smile. “I didn’t know you could read minds, too.”

“I can read frightened humans clutching brooms.”

“It’s…a mop…” A weak counter, but you were trying to process the fact that he’d so casually called you a human. The word rolled off his tongue as if he was speaking to a pet.

“I’m sorry. A mop,” he quipped and closed his book.

You ran your thumb over the grain of the handle. “So can you call your brother and ask him to lay off the thunder?”

“This is nature, not my brother,” he looked out the window and something bittersweet crossed his features. “He likes to put on a much bigger spectacle—“

“Are you actually him?” You blurted. “Are you actually Loki? Or are you just one of those assholes that resembles a celebrity and just rolls with it when people mistake you for the real deal so you can laugh about it later?”

“I’m a celebrity?”

“I can’t think of a better word. Villain sounds too comic book-y.”

“And would you be afraid if I was him?”

“No.” You straightened yourself out, and latched onto the thread of hope that maybe he wasn’t the ethereal being you’d mistaken him for. Maybe he was just some weirdo. In which case, you had pepper spray in your back pocket if things got out of hand. “Loki wouldn’t be stupid enough to come back here. And even if he was, he wouldn’t pick Chicago to hide out in. Not when it’s so close to his last fuckup.”

“You make some excellent points,” he chuckled. “But you’re a bit off the mark.”

In a swift motion he held his hand up, and a thin piece of metal materialized in a flash of green light. Without a second thought, he tucked it between the pages of his book, and shut it.

“That was…so…extra.”

For a moment he seemed taken aback; disappointed that this human wasn’t falling down, shocked and impressed and maybe a bit fearful of his power. But he had to remind himself that this wasn’t why he was here. This wasn’t why he was in this form. This wasn’t why the storm raged so violently outside.

“I’ve been called many things, but extra is not one of them.”

***

Four cups of coffee later, and you were seated across from him, laughing as if you’d known each other for years. He told you about his brother. His sister. His father. His mother. His home. He asked you about the music you played, and why someone like you was in a place like this, and what your aspirations were; a reminder that questions like those used to be genuine before the douche bags of the world got hold of them.  

He made little trinkets disappear and reappear, at your wide-eyed requests. In turn, you showed him how to draw hearts and swirls in latte foam. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as what he could do, but from the way he seemed so enamored by your words, one wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

You were hunched over, forming the outline of a cat when a particularly loud crack of lighting rattled the windows. Startled, you dropped your utensil into the mug, and cursed.

“Dammit. That was the best one I’d ever done.”

‘You could always try again,” he replied, waving his hand fluidly over the mug to make the foam flat and white once more.

Pursing your lips together, you stared at the coffee, and then looked up to meet his eyes.

“Why are you here? Why sit in a shitty coffee shop in Chicago when you could be literally anywhere else in the world?”

“Because,” he laced his fingers together and rested his elbows on the table, “I made a promise to my brother and his wizard friend that I’d remain within a certain radius of them. This city is as far away as I could get without breaking that promise.”  

“And this specific place?”

“I came in here by chance, saw something I liked, and decided to stay,” there was a sort of sheepish tone to his voice.

“Well…I’m glad you did. And if you’d like, maybe I could show you around a little. It’s a great city.”

“I’d very much like that.”

His lips were soft against yours as he leaned in to kiss you, and his skin was cool to the touch. It had a magnetic quality to it that drew you in deeper and deeper, until you kissed him with such fervor that you thought you might drown in him. Outside, the storm started to subside; a coincidence that made the moment all the more poetic. Lord help you if this didn’t work out in the end, because you knew that nobody on this Earth could ever kiss you like that.

***

For the first time in a long time, Loki was feeling good. Truly, honestly, purely, good. The sun was just coming up, and already the streets were filled with sleepy drivers yawning the whole way to work. Perhaps if he was alone any longer, then an actual bounce would’ve worked its way into his step, but his moment was rudely interrupted.

“So how did it go, brother?”

He choked on his coffee and looked to the side. There was Thor, chipper as ever, with a mischievous smile on his face. This was one in only a handful of times that he’d ever managed to sneak up on Loki, and he was sure he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.”

“I don’t.”

“Come now, brother,” Thor scoffed, matching his pace. “We could do this all day. You being coy and stupid; me, feigning naivety. Back and forth, back and forth, stupid and naïve, stupid and naïve,” Thor slung his arm over Loki as he spoke, “But in the end, I think we’re just postponing the inevitable.”

“And what might that be?”

“That in 1500 years, you still can’t get a date. Not even with my help—”

“Oh, were those sparkles outside yours?” Loki halted and shook his brother’s arm off his shoulders.

Thor narrowed his eyes. Months later and the Grandmaster’s pet name was still a sore spot. Loki could only hope it’d stay that way for at least another thousand years or so. There was just so much fun to be had with it.

“I try to help you, and this is the thanks I get.”

“Terrifying the poor thing with a storm is not help.”

Thor huffed and crossed his arms, clearly offended.

“I only meant to encourage closeness—“

“Loki!”

Both men turned at the sound of your voice as you jogged towards them. There was a brief falter in your steps as you realized Thor was there. He was nearly unrecognizable from behind after his apparent haircut. You cleared your throat, awkwardly.

“Hey, you forgot your book…”

“Did I? Ah, well thank you,” he replied lightly and took it from your outstretched hand.

“No problem. I’ll see you next week, then?”

“Yes. And I suspect the weather will be much nicer,” Loki shot a sideways glance at his companion.

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then,” you smiled and gave a small wave as you walked away, feeling very proud of yourself for keeping your composure.

As you turned the corner and disappeared from sight, Loki drummed his fingers against the cover of the book. A content grin crossed his features.

“See, brother? I didn’t need your sparkles, after all.”

Master List (x)

[kaibutsushidousha]

Artbook Data - Miu Iruma

This happened on the first try and in the second my antivirus sounded a big alarm as soon as I typed the word “adorable”.

By the way, the untraslated version of the Saihara name list is: サ��原, ハメ原,  ダサイ原,  無能ヶ原, ショボ原 and クサイ原.

Seiyuu’s comment: Haruka Ishida

Miu-chan is a fundamentally adorable girl, but with some other sides to her (laughs). I don’t think I’ve ever seen a character as extreme as her even in the DanganRonpa series. I was worried people won’t like her, my acting included, but she has some traits that make you want to protect her, so please fall in love with her and do the Love Hotel!

Kodaka’s comment: The best and worst dirty girl

Iruma’s keyword was “The naughtiest character in DanganRonpa history”. That’s why had to make her design so cute. We added some BDSM essence to the uniform and the sprinkled some steampunk elements to make it look more inventorish. Some people on the staff pointed out that inventor felt too close to DR2′s Kazuichi Souda’s mechanic, but when I think inventor, I think something like Dr. NakaMats, so I went the current talent because I don’t think the job overlaps with mechanic. Her last name sounds vaguely scientist-like and her first name is as cutesy as it can get. I think the name really expresses how distant both sides of her personality are. I would say the way she gets weak when people stand up against her is what makes vulgar dom personality able to sustain itself.

Her biggest role in the plot is of course the murder trick on chapter 4. I want to make it a “murder that happens in another world”, so the first thing I thought about it was that Iruma was going to be heavily involved. Then I combined this idea with the old idea of “a Trial were even the culprit doesn’t know who the culprit is” and the script turned out as it is. I though of some scenes where she always helping the detective with her inventions, but unfortunately the only one I managed to include in the actual story was the cameras in chapter 1. It’s better like this because the inventions already had their big share of utility with Ki-bo and with one other character, don’t you agree? It shows how much she is better as background comic relief than as an inventor. 

Due to some her more extreme remarks, I was really anxious when it came to the seiyuu selection but Haruka Ishida readily assured me: “I can play even the worst of the worst!”. I found the ridiculously cute voice she used for the most indect lines really good and felt like I really offered the job to the right person. By the way, we made a sprite of Iruma with a terrifying dildo in her hands to use in situations where she would get the most angry, but for ethical reasons we were forbidden to use it... This is honestly regrettable!

Design Notes:

Goggles: You can’t have an inventor without goggles. They have been protecting her eyes for all sorts of experiment. It has some extra purposes like keeping her hairdo in the right place.

Mouth: A mouth that spouts dirty talk, verbal abuse and self-praise every time it opens. Not something you would think it belongs to an “overly hot genius” with “history-changing good looks” and “golden brain cells”...

Chokers: A choker is a tight-fitting neck accesory. The combination of 2 spiked chokers and and a punk-style necklace is painful to look at...

Belts: In order to put highlight the curves she is so proud of, she made a mysterious contraption of belts that doubles a garterbelt.The more you think about it, the more impractical it gets.

Underwear: Sexy undergarments worthy of adorning overly hot great genius’ venusian body. One of it’s high-selling points is how it preserves the wearer’s warmth for a long time after you take it off.

Gloves: Sturdy leather gloves to protect the icefish-like hands of the genius inventor. It’s her favorite type of gloves: gloves without finger covers, that allows to do more delicate work with it.

Boots: Hardtaste long boots with ultra-thin ultra-high heels. It hurts a lot when she steps on you with it, but the world has all sorts of peoples of all sorts of kinks.

Favorite presents:

Bondage Boots: Queen-style super-long super-high-heels enamel boots decorated with chains on the laces. A physical representation of Iruma’s prefered fetishes.

Blanket Overcoat: A blanket fully wearable and a high-collar long-sleeves overcoat. Whether or not it’s easy to move with is irrelevant. An item made for Miu “I want to do stuff while I’m still asleep” Iruma.

Workchair That Makes People Lazy: The ultimate workstation, an overly confortable sofa with an attached computer. 100% guaranteed to render Iruma unable to move.

Tentacle Machine: A nimble magic hand said to have been once used a non-specified girl. Does Iruma want to use it on someone, or does she wants someone to use it on her...?

Key Phrases:

The Aloof Genius Who Loves Slacking Off: People don’t know her name, but everyone knows her inventions. One example of Iruma’s awesomeness is the insanely popular “Eyedrop Contacts”. But she doesn’t give a damn about profiting from it. The only work she cares about the products of her useful “In Your Sleep series”, which include tools to allow you to type while you sleep, read manga while you sleep, eat while you sleep. Her undisciplined personality is clearly visible by her invention history!

Inventors Are Into Robots!?: When an inventor takes the robot in front of her, he won’t possibly leave intact. Iruma had her eye on Ki-bo from the start, and since her lab opened, she has been taking him there and violently pushing him down on the table...! A forceful strong-willed girl and passive weak-willed boy... but Iruma is only doing maintenance on Ki-bo, take your mind out of the gutter!

It’s Called A D...?: Even if you use the ladder in the library, there are still high blindspots you can’t reach. In order investigate this crime scene, Iruma made an unmanned flying camera that greatly contributed to the investigation. But the flying machine is called a drone, not a dogone or a dromon! Yumeno’s “She was intelligent, but beyond that, she was very dumb” quote comes to mind!?

She Opened Her Mind About Prostration: Akamatsu and Saihara immediately go down to their when they want her help to invent something that can lead to a clue. Their desperate act after being bluntly rejected flipped a switch inside her and now she is addicted to people putting their heads on the ground for her...

The Secret Behind The Witness Report...: When Gokuhara tried to forcibly drag everyone to the Insect Meet-and-Greet, Iruma escaped him. Judging she could match him in physical strenght, she avoided the dangerous situation by unleashing her forbidden power, the “woman’s weapon“! However Gokuhara ran away confused at the scene, so we’re left to wonder if those weapons really filled its purposes...

Main Quotes:

“Huh? Oh my, what is this strong feeling burning in my chest? I-Is this... motherhood?“: Monotarou, one of the Monokumarz, lost his memories. Upon looking at how freely Iruma could overwrite the giant VR device’s program, he assumed she was his creator and started to call her “mother“. As this point we would expect her to respond with his usual indecent banter, but instead we get some powerful heartfelt response! Ki-bo turned out as the dad of this surrogate family(?), but how long will it last!?

“It’s The 'Machine That Punches You When You Make A Bad Dirty Joke'!“: Iruma keeps showing new inventions that untentionaly shows her kinks exclusively to her favorite, Saihara, or as she calls him, Dicktective/Fuckhara/Suckhara/Dumbassaihara/Saihairy Balls/Shithara! ...However, her “Hook-up Counter“, “Machine That Punches You When You Make A Bad Dirty Joke“, “Moan Sampler“ and the underwear teleportation device “I See London“ all serve exclusivily sexual purposes. You can tell how much of a weirdo she is when her own invention reacts to her dumb joke and she feels pleased about it!

Final Comment: Iruma looks so cute when she has her mouth shut, but she ruins it all with her over-the-top haughtiness and nonstop vulgar talk. Wanna get down to your knee to get to see her flustered face?

[rabbiteclair]

A little too long to paste as a single passage, but it'd be interesting to hear your thoughts about designing the kappa squad in Gensokyo Channel One!

This is a pretty long answer, so I’m putting it behind a cut.

Touko and Rumi changed a lot over various drafts, but ended up kinda circling back around close to their original concepts. Here are my earliest surviving notes on them:

Orie [Touko]

Kappa, is ultimately just out to prove she's smarter than everybodyelse.

Very much wants to milk every penny she can get out of this situation, but also sees it as a way of keeping score.

A bit of a bully to her followers, and it only gets worse when she's angry.

Vengeful, and a little sadistic. Would probably kill her own mom for a five cent profit.

More of an opportunist than a grand planner—this whole thing is pretty much getting winged. Still, she's pretty crafty.

Talks like a corrupt Texan sheriff from a 70s movie involving lots of semis.

Rumi

Is the most recently-banished, and the only one who was banished because of negligence, not malice. The kappa have offered to let her return to society if she repays the ridiculous amount of money that she owes in damages.

Has a neverending supply of peppermints on her, and eats them whenever she's anxious or concentrating.

Has a robot arm from the explosion. It's really shoddy-looking, because she sucks at engineering by kappa standards, but it has a zillion weird attachments. Fascinated (and mostly great at) chemistry, though.

Overall bad at things, because she's clumsy, easily-distracted, lazy, air-headed, and all-around childish.

Other Kappa

Orie's followers. Mostly lured in by the promise of profit, and justa little afraid of her. By the time they realize that she's notexactly a great person to work for, it's too late.

Pretty standard kappa—smart, socially awkward, a bit shy.

Orisa – The tailor. Mumbles, speaks in short sentences, leaves off unnecessary words sometimes in more of a 'rough guy' sort of way than a 'Chaika' one. Dresses kinda boyishly with TEN BILLION POCKETS for sewing supplies. Doesn't care about much except making Maeri happy.

Maeri – Good with maps, tactics. Probably the one who figured out how to pull off the bombing. Neurotic, rambly, distracted.

Ririsa – Fighty. Grumpy. A bit deadpan. Short temper and impatient.

Originally, Rumi was a chemist, who was making actual bombs to blow up houses. This had a few issues--first, outright bombing things didn’t fit too well with the feel of Gensokyo to me, and second, the whole arc with the kappa attacking Suzunaan was something like them raiding a chemistry shop instead, which didn’t quite have the same impact.

... Touko was named ‘Orie’ from day one until about two days before I started posting the story. The placeholder name was a dumb joke entirely for myself, because I used to RP a character by that name who was approximately the opposite of Touko in every way.

When the chemistry angle didn’t provide enough conflict, the next idea was for Rumi to discover the TV station earlier, and feed them tips about the kappa attacks ahead of time to soothe her conscience. The problem with that was that it was pretty hard to come up with a reason for her to not just tell them everything from the start, which’d make this a much shorter story.

Next, for a very short time, Rumi was the tailor and Orisa was the bomb-maker. I don’t think I got very far with that draft? I’d forgotten it even existed until just now.

Next, I made Rumi a very minor ocean goddess who’d gotten stuck in Gensokyo instead. She was starved for faith, so the whole kappa plan was based around them staging opportunities for her to make a big show of flooding houses while they looted them, thus helping get her some faith. I still really like this angle, but I couldn’t make it work to my satisfaction. It hinged on Rumi being in the dark for most of the story, which didn’t make a very satisfying arc. The kappa were also using her as a scapegoat, which didn’t leave them with much reason to not just shoot Rumi after the big flooding.

Goddess Rumi had a rather longer full name:

Rumiwas dreaming.“Rumi-teru-tama-no-kami!”Evenremembered centuries or millennia afterward, the man's voice wasbooming, seeming to echo even over the open sea. “We bring youofferings!”He stood at the head of a small boat, barelymore than a log that had been hollowed out. Two men rowed, andsitting between them was a bucket, as tall as their seated forms, andoverflowing with rice.Two dozen more log boats followedbehind them, hanging back at a safe distance.“Ourpeople are hungry, beautiful goddess. Our traps lie empty. Webring you offerings to begyour aid!We bring you offerings so that you might onceagain be pleased with the people of Village-on-the-Rock!”Theboat drifted to a stop, only bobbing slightly on the currents. Thetwo rowers carefully rose to standing, hefting the bucket of rice outand gently setting it in the water. It just barely floated, and theygave it a shove, pushing it away from the boat. The rice was almost athird of a koku, enough to feed an adult for four months. It was nosmall sacrifice for such a modest village. It was enough to merit thepersonal attentions of even a goddess.

After that, Rumi came back around to her final version, which is fairly similar to the original, apart from her abilities. The only real thing that changed was that, for a couple of drafts, the first chapter showed Touko recruiting Rumi at her riverside shack. There are some fun bits in there, but it’s a bit too long to really quote here.

The other kappa... didn’t change much across drafts, really.

Maeri and Orisa went from being kind of jerkish to slightly amoral people in a bad situation. They also got progressively gayer with every draft, because I found their whole relationship really fun to write. ... honestly, the final draft could probably use to lose a few examples of that, since they come off as almost obsessively protective of each other to me, but hey.

Ririsa was always a violent weirdo. The only real change with her is that she was originally completely irredeemable, and got killed in the final fight at the TV station. Really, for about half a draft, I was looking for ways to write her out, because she’s the least interesting by far. She doesn’t get much of an arc, and her personality is kinda straightforward. In retrospect, I probably should’ve done so, but oh well.

[rhina988]

The Heart Wants What It Wants - Chapter 16

Read from the beginning

Chapter 15

Nicole’s POV

"Phone, iPad, keys..." I was rushing through Rachel's house trying to pick up all my stuff for work, and luckily, all my gadgets were always with me, so I didn't have to face Lucas before today.

I have spent a few days at Rachel's, doing my best to come up with the good story for everyone at work, and how to face my parents. Then it dawned on me that Lucas must have had his own scenario that he had told everyone, as to why he never got married. On top of it all, my parents were furious, disappointed and baffled by my behavior which I got to realize once I had called them to let them know I was back in LA. It's an understatement to say that they wished I was not really their daughter. I have made such a mess out of my life in just a couple of days, and it'll take forever to fix it.

"I'm leaving Rach, I got the keys so I'll see you tonight," I yelled and Rachel just answered with OK, being too busy with sorting out the attic.

A deep breath in and a calming one out. I can totally do it. I'm an adult, taking full responsibility for my reckless behavior and I need to act like it. All these random thoughts came to my mind while I was driving to work. How to act around Lucas? What to tell him? What would our first encounter even look like? Is Jared going to marry that Italian girl? Are they having twins? What should I have for breakfast? Ooh, coffee, I need to pull over.

Wow, slow down Nicole. One messed up situation at a time.

Stepping inside the company, I was faced with seriously awkward looks and I could have felt and even hear the gossip roaming around, the minute after they had said, "Hello" to me. I have never felt like I was under the spotlight, until now. The worst feeling ever. The eyes full of judgement, mockery, pity and of course those Did she really think she could lock Jared Leto down, looks. Horrible.

No matter how piercing the looks of other colleagues were, I had yet to face the most horrifying one. As I stepped outside the elevator and headed down to my office, the well familiar figure appeared in front of me. Lucas, coming out of the CEO's office and heading to his own. He didn't even see me, which was quite a relief. I had yet to prepare for what to tell him, without crumbling down or bursting into tears. But just as a wave of relief washed over me, Lucas suddenly turned around to go another direction, and that’s when I thought my heart was gonna escape from my chest.

The time had suddenly stopped, and those 5 seconds somehow felt like an eternity. He was shocked, I didn’t know what to say, and the amount of negative energy spreading through the hallway was ridiculous. If only I could have had those couple of minutes, I had planned to take before facing him, I could’ve think of something better to say, but instead I just stood there. Silent. Numb. With no words to utter. My lips moved, but I literally couldn’t speak. Lucas also seemed rather confused and at one moment, he probably wanted to say something but he kept silent as well. He just walked by me, lowered his head, while I whispered, “Hi...” which he probably failed to hear.

Watching him leave, felt so devastating, but I knew I deserved an even worse treatment than simple ignoring. I sighed, and turned away to walk into my office. I had barely closed the door, when tears started running down my face. At the moment, I didn’t even know why I was crying. I didn’t feel sad, but rather mad at myself. I guess all of this was too much, and the emotions were overwhelming me. Suddenly my phone rang. Jared. He’s tried to reach me for the past few days and I haven’t answered a single call, but now I needed to lash out on someone, so I picked up.

“Stop calling me! I never want to speak to you, or see you, ever again in my life! Just leave me alone! I curse the day we met! Leave me the fuck alone!”, I yelled and then hung up, throwing the phone on the sofa. I put the rest of my stuff on my desk, and sat in my chair to see myself in the mirror, and fix the mess I had probably made with crying.

The phone rang again, but I couldn’t care less about it. I decided not to answer, no matter who called me. My life needed to come back to normal, and talking to Jared would do just the opposite. Then my office phone rang, and it was Maya. I completely forgot to check in with her, and let her know I was back.

“Is that how you treat your best friend?” Maya asked obviously irritated.

“Hey... umm... I’m so sorry I forgot to call you. Things were such a mess, I...”

“Don’t give me that crap; we’ve been through thick and thin, and you don’t even notify me that all hell broke loose. I’m seriously disappointed,” she interrupted me and upset me even more.

“Look Maya, this isn’t about you, OK? My life is so screwed up now, and I’m sorry I forgot to make you one of the leading actresses in my own circus,” I was so pissed off I was afraid we might say things we didn’t really mean.

“That’s not what I meant. I just wish you would’ve remembered to include me in your life. I wanted to be there for you,” she tried to justify herself.

“Fine,” I said through a sigh, “Wanna have lunch today? I’m at work again, so we could meet around 1.”

“Absolutely. See you at our restaurant at 1. Love you.”

“Love you too, weirdo,” I said and chuckled.

I started to work, so I could distract myself as much as possible and it was working. Before I knew it, it was noon and when I looked at my phone, I saw a missed call and a message from Maya. She said that she had completely forgotten about an appointment that was scheduled at one, and that she won’t be able to have lunch, but if I was in the mood for dinner, that’d be great. I agreed and decided to go to Rachel’s for lunch. I called and told her I’d be dropping by and I’m bringing pasta. Our favorite.

Taking my purse and the blazer, I walked out of the office, hoping I won’t run into Lucas again. Luck was finally on my side, and there were very few people in the entire company that I ran into on my way out. I drove to pick up the food, and headed to Rachel’s place.

“Hey, the food is warm and hopefully as delicious as I remember it,” I said loudly as I walked inside the house, tossing the keys on a nearby table and turning my head to the left to see if Rachel was in the kitchen.

Instead, I was welcomed with the most unbelievable sight.

“Hi, beautiful,” the minute I had seen his face and heard that sultry voice, my knees went weak and I dropped the food, feeling as if my chest is about to explode.

Jared was standing in the middle of the kitchen, with the smile that could translate as I’m so happy to see you, and I hope you’ll give me a chance to explain myself. My head started spinning, my pulse raised and I felt a rush of anger emerging from inside me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked with despise, squinting my eyes at him.

“You weren’t returning my calls, and I needed to see you. Nicole I...”, Jared walked towards me, but I lifted my hand signaling him to stop.

“Don’t you get it? When a girl doesn’t answer your calls, she doesn’t want to hear you. Let alone see your jerk face,” I was dead serious, and cold, even though on the inside I wanted to explode.

“But you have to listen to me. I’m completely innocent,” he tried to make me listen to him, but I felt betrayed, and I only wanted him out of there.

“No, I don’t. I don’t have to do anything for you,” I turned away from him, intending to run away from the house, but Jared chased me and grabbed my upper arm to stop me from leaving.

“You’re not going anywhere,” in one swift move, Jared rotated me towards him, so our faces were an inch apart. I could feel his warm breath on my face, as his eyes darkened and all I could see in them was lust mixed with anger. We were both breathing rapidly, and that damn attraction worked like a magnet again.

My mind was so mixed up at the moment, I could barely think about anything. I haven’t felt those strong gorgeous hands on my body in a few days, and it felt like an eternity. My heart and my mind were at such a conflict that it almost made me insane. I didn’t want to let him explain anything, because I didn’t want to hear any more lies, or deceptions. He was a celebrity for Christ’s sake. Who was I to think someone like him would actually want to have something serious with a plain mortal as myself. But then again, if he didn’t care, why would he have come all the way to Rachel’s, and call me nonstop, and try so hard to justify his actions.

“Let go of me,” I barely managed to whisper inconvincibly, never breaking eye contact. My heart was pounding uncontrollably, knees trembling and all I wanted was to be as far away from Jared, because I could never trust myself around him.

“No,” Jared groaned dead serious, raising his eyebrows, which made me shiver a little. His eyes darkened and I was afraid he might become violent. Come to think of it, how well did I really know him? All we shared were hours of mind-blowing sex and a few days together where we didn’t have much of a chance to get to know each other better. He might as well have been a psychopath, or a maniac, or God only knows what.

“Jared... I...” without letting me finish the sentence, Jared brushed his lips over mine and ran his fingers through my hair, pulling me closer to him like he was afraid I’ll never be in his embrace again. He held me tight, close to his body and I could feel how much he needed me, right there and then. It wasn’t just lust. It was more than that.

Ripping myself out of his arms, I pushed him away and faced another side, placing my hands on my lips and closing my eyes for a moment. I missed his kiss so much. Even though my heart has brought me nothing but misery, I decided to listen to it once more, and give Jared a chance to tell what he wanted.

“Fine,” I said through a sigh, “I’ll let you tell me everything.”

“Thank you, baby,” Jared smiled and exhaled in relief, approaching me.

“But you’re leaving after that. No matter what you tell me, we’re over.” I said and his jaw dropped. He definitely didn’t expect me to react that way, but I needed to get away from him. “You deserve a chance to explain everything, but that’s all you’re getting out of me.”

Chapter 17 

Feel free to comment and leave feedback.

Let me know if you’d like me to tag you in the next chapters.

Hope you enjoyed it.

You can read the story on Wattpad as well

@wolfgirl1074 @nikkitasevoli @iraniq @elliegrace139 @iridescxntsolitude @lanfear619 @msroxyblog @sookieblack12 @prettypinkbabyunicorn @aliencataf 

[missoneminute]

peter+carl, favourite quotes

I could fill a book with these, but here’s a selection of favourite quotes after the cut, as requested by anon. 

“It was Pigman who once said that the blood from broken hearts writes the words to every song. And that’s the trouble, innit?” 

– Carl Barat, There Are No Innocent Bystanders, 2011

“But hey ho and never you mind the psychological burdens this most splendid and dark relationship heaps up on me.” 

– Peter talking about Carl, 26th April 1999, Books of Albion

“Interviewer: In our last phone interview with Peter, he said that he was going to get married to you. Carl: Oh yeah, we are getting along. Peter: But we had a serious fight about three weeks ago. ‘Cause Carl … Carl: Stop it. You’re going to cry again. Peter: I cried during an interview yesterday. It was a bit embarrassing. Carl: It surprised me. Peter: It was because of Carl. He said he would go to Morocco with me but … Carl: I said stop. Peter: But it’s true! Carl: That doesn’t mean you have to tell them everything! So anyway, we just had a small misunderstanding. There were times we felt distant, but that wasn’t a big deal. Peter: (Glares) Carl: Why are you looking at me? Peter: LIAR.” 

– Peter Doherty and Carl Barat, April 2003

“I don’t cry too easily, and hardly ever in public. But there were a lot of tears at that gig. Emotionally it was colossal. It was the first time I’d played with Pete for ages without Kate Moss and the whole entourage around. It reminded me how great we were together and how much unfinished business there is.”

– Carl Barat on his reunion with Peter at Hackney Empire, Mail on Sunday, 2008

“I sat on the edge of his bed and wept. There was a CD that his mum had made him, a bootleg CD with a picture of me and him on the front and it said ‘Well done’….” 

– Peter Doherty on burgling Carl Barat’s flat, NME 2003

“I wanted so badly for it to be all or nothing. Wanting it to be me and him. But then I knew that could not be, and that was not what he wanted anyway. I fell back into being a little more emotionally dependant on Carl, but I realised I had to cut myself off from demanding him like that.” 

– Peter Doherty on Carl Barat, Kids in the Riot 2005

“I live 2 minutes away, there’s no lock on the door. why am I here then? you know why. it’s close enough, I’m obsessed to the point of needing to know everything. all of you. I’ll pretend to be you because you won’t log on. you never even used the internet until you knew you could press a button and see a picture of yourself, and now you’re even afeared to read ANYTHING that might interfere with the ‘peace’ you crave. For a peaceful man you are extremely volatile. In fact, your peace comes only after conflict, til it fades and needs re-touching with further conflict. Is that what you do - what I saw in London? it’s amazing. but are you going to do when everything comes out? When the kids hear ‘bucket shop’ and ‘music when the lights go out’ are they considered Libertines songs or not? There’s further questions that I shall ask elsewhere but for now - you’re not a bad sort. I quite love you.” 

- Peter Doherty, Network 54 forum, June 2002

“Biggles stirs in his sleep laughing.” 

– Peter Doherty, The Books of Albion

“In the early days Carl came round once with this girl who had convinced him that I was just a weirdo and that we had an unhealthy relationship. He sat me down and said, “Maybe we shouldn’t see so much of each other? Maybe we should knock the band on the head? It’s not really going anywhere, is it?“ I was desperate for us to stick together and see it through because I never stopped believing.”

 – Peter Doherty, Daily Mail, 2008

“It’s as deeply horrible and beatifically brilliant as the depths of any relationship can allow.” 

– Carl Barat, when asked to sum up his relationship with Pete Doherty in one sentence, The Guardian, 2010

“Everything you do at a certain time in your life, no matter what the song’s about, all the energy is really directed towards that one person. Whether that was for Carl. Or for Kate. Or for someone else I fell in love with.” 

– Peter Doherty, Q Magazine, 2007

“Peter surprised me at work at the Old Vic one night, when we were meant to be rehearsing but I’d taken the paying job instead. Separate worlds – music and theatre – colliding momentarily, almost causing one to spin helplessly out of orbit. I was in my trusty trousers, probably gleaming in the theatre lights, serving a platter of vol-au-vents as part of a reception for Marcel Marceau. It was an after-show as far as I can remember – as much as great mime artists have after-shows, anyway. Then Peter just appeared, lumbering into sight, red-faced with tears in his eyes. I can’t imagine what the guests must have thought as a stranger button-holed one of the waiters, and the quiet of the theatre bar is shattered as he screams: ‘What are you doing here? Can’t you see these people are cunts? We’re meant to be writing songs!’ The room screeched to a halt, a hundred heads turning towards us, now centre stage in the encroaching silence. I was livid. How I kept my job there is still a mystery.” 

– Carl Barât on working at the Old Vic, Threepenny Memoir

“Two trod and one so pestering at the falter of older other in the old world. Giros and on the rob, stealing the light from the dawn and sweet lasting embraces besides the late night river Thames. Mountain ranges of paperback books, heart shaped renditions of ‘you’re my waterloo’ and ‘france’. First time I seen him cry: ‘tears and tears in his proud fathers coat’ ‘Death on the stairs’. Yes, I wrote ‘how can we..’ yes older sings it so magnificently. Now he’s stuck brogues nailed to conveyer belt and he’s screaming to come away: but the infastructure is there all behind and for him, appreciative, egging. Fat lines of coke courtesy of Rough Trade, or a Strokes guitarist, backstage passes and torments in the night. Bored, plain kids shyly approach us. wow oh scramble scramble. No, mum, I’m fine. Aaah. The nurse beckons me closer, she has watched me laughing crying, singing all day...sweet old Irish accent: ‘You’re no addict young man, they’ll mollycoddle you to death yet. Jesus you come away til I marry you. Be careful, look out now. There’s a hallful of bastards out there your friends. Just watch it now. Sing your little heart bare’. Carl. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, so truly, and I love you and I’m here.” 

– Peter Doherty, forum post, 2003

“I know of people who’ll love me when I’m dead, they won’t call me those things then. It won’t matter, they’ll say ‘he was unhappy and he’s better off’. They’ll say ‘I knew him and I spent time with him’. They’re lying. There’s only one man who knows me, who spent time with me, and he doesn’t now. One man I love in this world. One man I respect. He cripples me now.” 

- Peter speaking about Carl, Babyshambles.com, 2004

“Peter and my friendship has always been a very magical thing…with out meaning to sound a bit tossy….It was….Just the time we used to spend together and the things we used to do. We used to stand on Great Portland Street…there were these big floodlights, there were two… ‘What should we do today?’ ‘Let’s go to Great Portland Street and stand in the floodlights and pretend with our umbrellas and pretend to be statues and see if anyone notices’…and we used to literally go and do that. And like for the whole night we’d be like—*poses*. Fucking ridiculous! But yeah. And that’s nothing, we used to do a lot of pretending. It’s very liberating for the soul. I highly recommend it to anyone…I do love Peter so dearly. The thing about Peter, is that, ever since I first met him, he had this innate ability to just charm someone…Like to me he’d say: ‘I love you, you’re working class, but with a violent heart and a poetic temperament’. And I’d go, ‘wow, yeah, you really know me!’…But just that ability to sort of surmise people…and he’d do that…But um, where was I going with this? ….Just he’ll think of the tiny details that only a poet thinks of. He used to phone me up when he was miserable, when we were having one of our dramas. ‘Whatever. Ok, Pete, it’s fine. Where are you?’ And he’d go ‘In the rain!’ So endearing and so beautiful…The thing about Peter and I is that we’re both very old, very kindred souls. And for whatever we talk about, that’s kind of circumstantial. It’s like anything can happen. We could do anything. Individually, together, apart, to each other. But a conversation after six months, it’s the same thing. It’s euphoric…it’s…you know. I love Peter and …I think Peter loves me. A lot of times we don’t like each other, but the underlying thing is that love.” 

– Carl Barat, There Are No Innocent Bystanders

“We’d spent years…writing little bits in songs to take a dig at each other, or say that we love each other. Just knowing each other would hear them and pick up on them.” 

– Carl Barat, Distraction Pieces Podcast, 2016

“It’s a huge part of my life, all those years struggling with Carl. He was magic. He was a magical character for me. For a while, he was a bit of a myth. I idolized him, really. We had grand adventures…grand adventures.” 

–  Peter Doherty, Vogue Italia, 2010

“Boys like physical contact. If you enjoy physical companionship, romance, something tender, you just want it to be true. That’s Libertine-ism: no barriers, no borders, no fakers, no forgers. Pleasure is pleasure.” 

– Peter Doherty, Attitude Magazine, 2002

“1997 I remember sitting on top of a tower block in bow and carl had that look in his eye he seized me screaming we should throw ourselves off together I had to knock him out and drag him down, `there`s nothing in this world for us` he`D say, `let`s shoot each other`.`lets shoot this shit up at the same time an drown in all eternity. no carl, it`ll be grand, lets keep going i love you I love you so much lets keep going `yeah lets keep going forever peter, til the very end` yeah til the end.” 

– Peter Doherty, forum post, April 8th 2003.

“My heart melts that…[you] ask me about soulmates. Because you’re right, you know. It’s a beautiful thing that we should all believe in…Yeah, I missed my friend so much. I still don’t think we spend enough time together. And he’s my soulmate and I love him and that’s the truth…Something so pure and beautiful and true…They’re going to say a soulmate is a myth…[but] when they experience a soulmate then that’s what destroys the myth.” 

– Peter Doherty on Carl Barat, Vice Magazine 2015

“There was someone who’d been so constant in my dreams and my thoughts and my memories and my hopes. Seeing that face … every time I thought about it I nearly passed out. I just wanted to hold my friend to make him feel better.” 

– Carl Barat discussing meeting Peter upon his release from jail, NME 2003

“Carl: I actually used to sleep with a knife [in reference to the lyrics: “You’re the only lover I’ve had / Who slept with a knife”] Peter: Yeah, what’s strange is that he actually used to sleep with a knife.” 

– Les In Rocks, September 2015

“His story with Carl was not finished of course. Pete: Ah, it is not…but it will never end. Everyone has someone in their life whom they love, but in some way or another, the relationship was abandoned by one of them, or by both of them. You become strangers and you realize that the person you love most in the world, you do not know them anymore.

Carl: We never separated…we separated, then we flirted a bit, and in 2010 we got back together, but we did not realize it. We were very uncertain about each other’s feelings. We only communicated through the press, granting interviews knowing that the other person would read them. I knew that I had to go see Peter, the friend that I love and that I missed, to know if this friend, and this friendship, still existed. It was terrifying, but I have been able to see things as they were, in all their beauty. My dear old friend, and my brother, with whom I grew up with in such an intense way.

Pete: I feel even closer to him than I did before…there is no one else who I connect with at this level. (With) Carl, I know that there are things that no one else can give. It’s strange, but he really knows me. I forgot that there was someone else on this planet who could understand me in this way, it is mysterious, but it is comforting and beautiful, and I’d never really realized it before.

Peter gives us a book to give Carl, writing a dedication on the page. It is “The Last Englishman”, the autobiography of AD Wintle.

Carl: On my part, there is nothing to forgive I think. I love him so much, he is like a brother, these are unconditional feelings.

Carl takes his mug into the adjacent album store, where with a stroke of luck, he immediately lands on an ideal gift to give back to Peter. It is the soundtrack to “Is Paris Burning?”, which Carl duly dedicates. “Perfect!” he says.”

– Peter and Carl’s separate interviews in Rock and Folk, October 2014.

“Do you want Peter to come back, to be honest? Carl: I do, of course I do (bursts into tears). Peter is the only person who I could trust for so long. I cannot express my feelings by words like ‘lonely’ or 'left behind’. It’s like something was suddenly scooped out from the inside of me….To tell you the truth, I have a twin brother who died when I was a child. And Peter would say to me, 'Even if no one stays with you in the future, I will never leave you, because I am the reincarnation of your lost twin brother.’ I still believe what he said then. And I believe that he will come back to me, no matter how long it will take.” 

– Carl Barat, Rockin'on, September 2004

“I’m scared to share a microphone with him now because people say it’s a gimmick. Sometimes I do rush over [to the mic], but that’s only because after you have had a few drinks and smoked a certain amount you get that really nice smell on your breath. You know, like when your lover has got that winey, smoky taste. Not that Carl’s my lover…I'd rather toss off a frog.” 

– Peter Doherty, Time Out Magazine, August 2015

[thewritingambition]

Take Good Care of My Home

(I ran an online scam on Craigslist) I'm sure you are clever. Exceedingly clever. The kind of person who would NEVER fall for an online scam, isn't that right? Especially a ridiculous one. You know what I'm talking about. “You've just won a trip to Barbados, please give us your social insurance number!” or “I am a Nigerian princess and I have to get rid of all this gold!” No, you'd never fall for that. At the first sight of a red flag, you would turn around and run. Only naive idiots fall for such things.

Well, let me disenfranchise you of this comfortable notion. You can't run a successful scam hoping that only well-off idiots will come to you. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of those out there, but you'll be lucky to run across one of them, let alone dozens. An average conman like myself – a self-made man, really, who is only trying to get by – can only prey on vulnerable people. The usual targets tend to be grandmothers and the mentally ill, but that is something I could never do. If you scam a neglectful grandson out of his inheritance, he'll stop at nothing to make sure you pay for your crime – and, more importantly, pay granny back. I can't risk that.

My targets of choice are the illegals. Not that I have anything against illegals. Lovely people, the lot of them. They run away from violent situations and risk their lives to seek refuge in our country, where they are willing to do back-breaking labor for less than minimum wage. What is there not to love about a group of hard-working people who believe that all Canadians are kind and decent and would never try to take away their money? How could we not welcome with open arms these penny-saving folks who are usually too scared to go to the authorities? You've probably seen one of the dozens of adds I put up on Craigslist and Kijiji. They vary in pictures and tone, but the bottom line is this: AVAILABLE IMMEDIATELY! Lovely one-bedroom apartment, perfect for international student or worker. My husband and I are missionaries going to South Africa next week and need to sublet our place URGENTLY! We don't care about the money, we just want someone who will look after our home. CAD $1,000.00. Utilities included. NO LEASE NECESSARY! Contact Mary Morgan at... The story changes, but I find that the missionary woman is wholesome enough to lure people in. The pictures have to look realistic, no fancy condo promotional ads. A nice picture of a basement apartment will do. The price has to be below average, but not so much so that it would raise suspicion. Then, you sit back and wait. You'd be surprised how many people will answer to something so ridiculous just to see what happens, but most of them lose interest when I tell them I can't meet them in person (the husband and I already flew to South Africa, you see). Some don't mind, though, and agree to meet with “my cousin” at the place once the transfer (which includes one month of rent, plus a CAD 200.00 deposit for the keys) goes through. You'd think that these websites would keep better track of this sort of thing, but they don't, and none of my targets is going to risk going to the police because they lost CAD 1,200.00 to an internet scam. Some of them come from places where the police are more dangerous than the criminals, while others don't want to risk deportation by calling attention to themselves, or they're just too embarrassed and too busy blaming themselves for falling for something so stupid. To be fair, I'm sure the police have better things to do with their time. Even if this got reported, they'd probably think I live somewhere in Nigeria and that I'm not worth the trouble. If anyone bothered to care, though, they'd find out that I live in downtown Toronto, and my little scam has been covering my rent for five months now. The last time I put one of my adds up, I got a reply within five minutes. Mrs. Morgan,

I am interest in rent your beautifull appartment for the six month. Is still available?

Amir I smiled at the broken English and hit reply immediately. Hi Amir,

Thank you so much for answering to the add. The apartment is still available but, unfortunately, my husband and I had to fly to South Africa sooner than we expected, so I can't show you the place. However, if you are willing to transfer the first month of rent to our account, my cousin Lisa will meet you at the address to give you the keys on Sunday.

You can come by and take a look at the lobby. That shouldn't be a problem.

God bless,

Mary I know what you're thinking: there's absolutely no way I've been running this ludicrous scam successfully for five months. To be honest, sometimes I'm a little surprised, too. I think it's all in the name I've chosen. Mary. Mary is a woman, and therefore harmless. Mary is a church-going white lady who loves Jesus. Mary is pious. Mary is good. Mary is definitely not a 6'foot tall 34-year-old guy named Richard who's only after your hard-earned money. Amir replied within fifteen minutes. Mrs. Morgan,

Is good. Do I transfer now?

I move Sunday, yes?

Amir I stared at my email. It's not that I was surprised he was willing to pay; I was surprised he was willing to pay so quickly. Even the desperate and the naive needed some reassurance. They pushed and tried to find solutions with you. Maybe they could meet Lisa? Maybe they could give Lisa the money? No one wanted to part ways with their money that quickly. Something didn't feel right, but I wasn't about to say no. Just to be cautious, I sent him another email. Why don't you tell me about yourself, Amir? Is your family moving in with you? Do you have a pet? How long are you staying?

God bless,

Mary Amir's reply reached my inbox just as quickly as his other messages. It was short and to the point. Hello Mary,

No family. Just me. I work as clean. I pay now and move Sunday, yes?

Amir I tried to picture Amir in my head. With that name, I thought it was safe to assume he was from the Middle East. He was probably nice and apologetic, so very glad to have the opportunity to come to this country. I work as clean. He probably meant “cleaner”. He could be an international student with a part-time job, but most students from the Middle East were teenagers being supported by their wealthy parents. It seemed safe to assume he was in the country illegally since cleaning companies don't care about the legal status of their employees and will often pay them under the table. He had to be either small or old because young immigrant men tended to work in construction. And he was eager, verging on desperate. Maybe his temporary VISA had expired and now he had to hide? Not that I was about to tell him to think carefully. I sent him my Paypal information and waited. The transfer notification came through and, immediately after, Amir sent me another email. I send the money.

I move Sunday, yes?

Amir I was a little shocked at how easy it had been. The whole exchange had taken less than thirty minutes. That had to be a record. You know what? I sorta felt sorry for him. I know I said targets aren't necessarily stupid, but he was way too trusting. He was probably some religious weirdo who thought the best of everyone. “Well, he'll learn a valuable lesson after this,” I said out loud. My dog looked up from the floor, head tilted to the side, slightly judgmental. I pointed a finger at him. “Not a word, Thanos. This will put food in your plate and beer in my fridge.” Thanos huffed as though he didn't approve of my life choices but quickly went back to sleep. There was no arguing with food nor beer. As a rule, I block my target's email once the transfer comes through since there will be no need for further communication. It was no different with Amir, and I went on with my life as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. To be honest, I was feeling pretty good about myself. Thirty minutes to complete a con that usually took three to four days? Clearly, my skills were improving. The very next day, I opened my email to find a message that read, “NEED NEW ADDRESS!” I frowned at that and opened the email. Mrs. Morgan,

I went to apartment but it was wrong address. Send new address, please.

I move Sunday.

Amir I smirked at the screen. I wasn't worried. There wasn't much that he could do about it now. I made sure to block him properly this time and continued halfheartedly searching for a new job. I had planned to spend the rest of winter scamming people from the warmth of my home, then find a more steady source of income in the spring, but the job ads I found online were so underpaid I was seriously considering extending my vacation. I was still in bed, thinking whether I should go downstairs for a cigarette when another notification popped on the top of the screen. New email. I saw Amir's email address. The subject line simply read: Found it! I deleted it without even thinking about it. That stupid app was always glitching. I could block him once I turned my laptop on. Whatever Amir had found, it didn't interest me in the least. On Tuesday, I got myself a new TV as a little reward for running such a quick and effective con. I admit that I am not at all frugal and have always had difficulty saving money, but at that point, I saw no reason to worry. It was evident that my little scheme was working, guaranteeing a steady flow of cash into my bank account. I would never be a millionaire, but I wouldn't have to worry about the bills anytime soon. I arrived home that evening in a pretty good mood, but it didn't last. I knew something was wrong right away. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was a little voice in the back of my mind telling me that not everything was in its proper place. Something had changed since I'd left that morning. Thanos trotted up to me, wagging his tail. “Did you do something?” I asked. Wouldn't

have been the first time I had gotten home to find out my clumsy mutt had ripped one of my pillows open or knocked over a plant. Thanos blinked up at me, as though wondering why I hadn't scratched his ears yet. I walked past him and took a look at the living room. Everything seemed to be in order and yet... it wasn't. I couldn't quite see why, though, and it was driving me crazy. A man knows his home. He can tell when something isn't right. I heard a sorrowful whine and felt the tip of a cold nose brush against my hand. I patted my dog on the head, but the feeling didn't fade. I must have stood in my living room for another five minutes, bewildered but unable to see anything out of place. Finally, I decided I was being ridiculous and that I had better things to do. I took a picture of my 24” TV and uploaded it to Craigslist, then I put it away to make room for the 50” that would be delivered the following morning. And no, I was not about to scam people again. I actually intended on selling my old TV. There was no reason to keep it around. Besides, I had tried something similar a few months before and it hadn't worked. I went into the kitchen to heat leftovers for dinner. I took a frying pan out of the cupboard and a plate from the dish rack. I stopped. Lowered my eyes to the plate in my hand. The penny took a moment to drop, but it finally did. It wasn't that there was something out of place in my apartment – there was nothing out of place in my apartment. I had left that same plate on the couch after having lunch, and the frying pan that was currently in its cupboard had been left in the sink since breakfast. I stared at the plate I was still holding, drawing my eyebrows into a frown. I hadn't washed either of these and had definitely not put them away. I never did. They usually just stayed in the dish rack until I was ready to use them again. How the hell had my tableware made its way from the living room to the kitchen and gotten itself washed? Found it! Something cold ran down my spine, but I knew right then and there that the thought was absurd. I had been careful. I had even asked my friend Daryl, who was good with computers, to ward my laptop against viruses and hackers. I was safe. My target hadn't tracked me down, especially not to wash my dirty dishes. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong and decided to take a look at the email I'd deleted the previous morning. I didn't have to, though, because Amir had sent me a new email that afternoon. In all caps, he announced, “WE HAVE PROBLEM!” Mrs. Morgan,

We have problem. House is dirty. Please clean house before Sunday.

And I can't live with dog. Dogs is dirty animal. You get rid of dog, yes?

I move Sunday.

Amir I stared at my phone screen feeling a pinch of fear crawling up my chest and setting camp there. I kept myself from having a panic attack by repeating a less than reassuring mantra: “If he'd actually found me, he'd have done much worse.” Horrible as that thought might be, it was also right. If Amir had managed to track me down, then he wouldn't have wasted his time washing dishes and sending emails. At the very least, he'd have confronted me. It made a lot more sense for me to have forgotten doing the dishes than for him to have gone through the trouble of tracking me down and breaking into my apartment just so he could criticize my cleaning habits and my dog. As for his email... I didn't have an explanation for that, but maybe he'd found the ad I'd stolen the pictures from? Maybe he'd gone to the address on the ad and seen a dog through the window of the apartment? It was unlikely, but not entirely impossible. “If he had found me, he'd have done much worse,” I repeated. Thanos came closer to lick my hand. I rubbed his ears. “It's fine,” I told him, as though he were the one who needed comfort. “Nothing bad will happen.” The furniture was moved on Wednesday. This time, I could see it the moment I opened the door. Someone had moved my armchair to the other side of the room so that it was the first thing I saw when I walked in. Not only that but everything I had left on top of the coffee table had found its way to drawers and cupboards. The curtains that were usually closed had been pushed open, allowing a lot of sun in. I hadn't been gone for an hour. I had smoked a cigarette, gone to the supermarket, then smoked another cigarette downstairs before coming up again. There was no way anyone would have had the time to do this. Besides, I had a brand new TV mounted on my wall. Who would break in and not even take that? “You're a useless guard dog,” I told Thanos, who barked happily at me, as though he'd done an excellent job protecting my home from invaders. I checked with the landlord to see if he'd come in unannounced, but he hadn't, and even if he had, I doubt he'd have wasted time returning my dirty underwear to its proper drawer. I hesitated, then I opened my email. The subject line of Amir's latest message announced, “Please open curtains!” Mrs. Morgan,

Please let sun in and get rid of dog. Dog is dirty.

I move in Sunday.

Amir I thought of replying. I went as far as to type down and angry message where I threatened to contact the police and get his ass deported to whatever shithole country he'd escaped from if he didn't stay away from me and my dog. The words felt good to write, but I didn't send it. What could I tell the police? That one of the people I'd scammed was harassing me? No, I couldn't call them for help. And I suspected that Amir knew that. I went to see Daryl the following day. He didn't appreciate me barging in on him while he was at work, but he relented after I told him someone had broken into my home and that I suspected I had been hacked. After twenty minutes where he divided his attention between my laptop and a tray of sushi, he declared that there was nothing wrong with my computer. Oh, and that I owed him CAD 200.00 for getting him involved in my ridiculous scheme. “Unlike you,” he told me, “I actually have a job I'd like to keep.” Daryl was proud of the fact that he could rot away in a nine-to-five working IT at a bank. Personally, I found that to be a waste of his talents. I returned home reassured that there had to be a rational explanation for everything that had happened even if I couldn't see it yet, but with every step, I became a little more anxious about going back home. By the time I got to the front door, I wasn't sure I wanted to go in at all. What would be waiting for me? Maybe I should call some friends and go have a beer before- Thanos started whimpering. He hurt my dog. I slammed that door open. The feeling a got when I walked into my apartment was overwhelming. It was like an icy finger had slid down my spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps and dread on its way. Something terrible had to have happened to provoke that sort of reaction. Then I realized it hadn't been dread – at least, not exclusively. My apartment was literally freezing. The heat had been turned off and the door to the balcony was wide open. Thanos was okay, but he was curled in the corner, shaking almost as much as I was. I could hear him whining over the sound of the wind and the snow blowing into my home. “Shit!” I shut the balcony door and turned the heat back on. Even with the mild winter we've been having this year, this is still Canada. Fuck, my dog could have frozen if I had taken a moment longer. Thanos ran over to me and I let him cuddle with me on the couch until we both stopped shaking. Unsurprisingly, Amir had sent me a new email: Mrs. Morgan,

Please turn heat of. Appartment is hot. Also, dog has to leave.

I move in Sunday.

Amir I rubbed Thanos' floppy ears with my cold hands while I fought the urge to launch my cellphone across the room. That little fucker. You can judge me all you want, I know I'm far from being perfect, but at least I'm not some sociopath who messes with people's heads and threatens their dogs. I'd had enough of this. The next time he came into my apartment, I was going to be ready. I paid for extra fast shipping and got a discreet nanny cam from Amazon. I positioned it so that it was pointing at the door and I left with Thanos. I sat at a coffee shop a couple of blocks from my house and sipped my coffee while keeping my eyes glued to the live feed on my cellphone. The moment Amir walked through that door, I would get a good look at his face. I might send the video to him by email and see if that would spook him. Or perhaps I would use his first name and picture to track him down. I knew I was going to have to wait for a very long time, but it didn't matter. I would sit on that cafe for hours if I had to only to get a glimpse at that fucker's face. Seven minutes later, I saw the doorknob on my front door turn. I held my breath. It couldn't be. It was to fast. He couldn't have known I was away from home yet. Had he been watching me? Did he know where I was? “I got you, you little shit,” I muttered under my breath. The door opened just a little, then it paused. Maybe he was listening in, trying to figure out if I was home. But the door stayed like that for a very long time. I even wondered if he'd gotten to his knees and crawled into the apartment since the camera didn't reach a good three feet off the floor. I quickly reminded myself that it was impossible. The door had to be only a few inches ajar. A person could never fit through. The minutes ticked by. My eyes were beginning to hurt because I wouldn't blink. I was too afraid to miss something if I looked away for just a moment. “C'mon, you fuck, come o-” The feed died. I ran. The barista screamed after me and Thanos yapped and pulled at his leash, bringing down the table I'd tied him to, along with everything on it. I didn't care. I wasn't about to let that man mess with my life any longer. I covered the two-block distance

in desperate, large strides that set my muscles on fire. I was so close now. So goddamn close. The first thing I saw when I burst into my home was that the camera was nowhere to be seen. The second thing I saw was a couple of ugly purple pillows on the couch. They didn't belong to me. On the coffee table, a cinnamon-scented candle had been lit and it was letting out a strong, unpleasant smell. No one was in sight. Inside my pocket, my phone chimed with a new message. Mrs. Morgan,

House smell nice now. Happy dog is out.

I move Sunday.

Amir I flopped on the couch. The run had left me panting and light-headed and I had to fight the urge to cry. This wasn't right. This wasn't fair. I'd had a camera pointing at the fucking door! He shouldn't have been able to get past that. I should have found out what he looked like. I should be the one in control. I wasn't though. I had no control over anything. I didn't leave Thanos in the coffee shop, though maybe I should have. I went back to fetch him and pay for the damage I'd caused. Let me tell you, the manager was less than impressed with my “I saw someone break into my house” excuse. I was asked not to come back. I cuddled up with my dog that night, though I was too scared to fall asleep. I had checked every nook and cranny of my apartment twice, but I still wasn't convinced Amir had left at all. My eyes kept jumping from one dark corner to the next, seeing faces in the shadows and imagining two long arms extending from under the bed to pull at my feet. What was he going to do next? Was he going to hurt my dog? Was he going to hurt me? This wasn't only a clever man who could work around surveillance cameras and keep an eye on me without being seen; this was a patient man. He could have done something horrible on that first day, but he didn't. He chose to wait and toy with me. This was all very amusing to him. I did consider sending his money back. I'm ashamed to admit it took me that long to even consider it, but I was finally running out of options. If I returned the money, then he might leave me alone and I wouldn't have to fear coming home every day. Why should he get your money back?, whispered a vicious little voice in my head. He's a psycho and he's probably doing this on purpose. No one that clever falls for a con as stupid as the one you're running. He wanted you to cheat him. He wanted to find someone to torture. He shouldn't get his money back. And you should do whatever it takes to protect yourself. I was angry. I dare say I was angrier than I was scared. I'd taken that man's money, but he'd taken away my peace of mind and my sense of safety. My punishment didn't fit my crime. It was four in the morning, but I got out of bed and got my baseball bat out of the closet. If he wanted to come back and harass me, I was going to deal with him myself. I wasn't going to go anywhere, and the moment he walked through that door, I would either scare him away or bash his head in – and I was hoping for the latter. I pulled up my armchair and waited by the door. I barely moved all day. Sometimes, I would stretch my legs or pace the space between the chair and the door, but I never turned my back to the entrance, too scared he might be standing there once I turned back around. I waited and I drank – and whenever I felt bored or ridiculous, I drank more. By noon, I was out of beer and drunkenly swinging my bat at empty spaces, muttering nonsense and ignoring my dog when he started whining to go for a walk. When he started barking madly, I thought someone was about to attack me, but he was simply barking at the neighbor's cat who had wandered into the balcony. It scared the shit out of me. I grabbed him by the collar and forced him into my bedroom, where his barking became louder, then thinned into a whimper, and then went completely silent. I didn't pay attention to him. All I cared about was the chance to cause that man as much pain as he had caused me. Any time now. He would make his move any time now and I would demolish him. As the minutes ticked by and as I sobered up, though, I began to realize the chances of him coming into my home were very unlikely while I was standing there. If he really was keeping an eye on me, he would know it would be dangerous to come in. I dared hope I'd scared him. He had to know I was armed with a blunt object and could cause severe damage. I unlocked the bedroom door and went to the kitchen to put some food on Thanos' plate. The sound of the food hitting his bowl didn't seem to entice him to come after me. “C'mon, boy. I'm sorry I was a dick.” Nothing. Not even a sound. “Thanos?” I went back to the bedroom and looked around. Then, I looked under the bed and inside the closet. Thanos was nowhere to be found, and a new email had made its way to my inbox. I move in on Sunday. Even though Amir had sent me those words many times before, it was the first time I saw the real threat in them. I don't think I'd ever been so scared in my life. There was a sense of fatality after Thanos was taken, the last shred of hope that was taken from me. Up until that moment, I could've explained everything rationally, but this I couldn't. I'd thought Amir had been coming into my apartment when he knew I was out, yet me being in the room had made no difference whatsoever. Worst of all, worse than losing Thanos, was that I had no idea how he'd done it. The windows in my bedroom don't open. Or rather, they do, but they're too small to allow a person in or my labrador-sized mutt out. I understood for that first time that this was going to happen. I just didn't know what this was. He couldn't possibly think I was going to allow him to move in. What was he going to do if I didn't agree to move out? Kill me? Take me to wherever he'd taken Thanos? It was possible. It was very possible. I didn't sleep that night. I didn't do anything except smoke and stare blankly at a wall with tearful eyes. Finally, I swallowed my pride and I sent the email I should have sent on Wednesday: Hi Amir,

This is Mary. I am very sorry I didn't have time to tidy up the house before you moved in and that I didn't get back to you sooner. This week has been very busy and the internet is spotty where I am staying.

I am writing with some bad news. My husband and I have just received news that the organization we work for is being dissolved, so our services won't be needed for the next six months. We are getting back to Toronto tomorrow, so we'll be moving back into our apartment. Evidently, I will reimburse you for the money you've sent immediately. If you need to go to a hotel, just send the check to me and I'll take care of it.

I'm so very sorry for the inconvenience.

God bless,

Mary I reread the email several times, feeling a weight in the pit of my stomach being lifted. Maybe this would be enough. It had to be. I had learned my lesson. There was no need to harass me anymore, especially now that I had transferred the money back to him. I waited for a reply, but it didn't come. That alone was strange. Amir had always replied within minutes. Maybe that meant he was going to leave me alone. Or maybe he was angry. I couldn't know. At five, just as the sun was beginning to set, I went downstairs to clear my head. I debated whether I should do it or not, but decided it would make no difference. Being in the apartment hadn't deterred that man from coming in. Besides, I'd run out of cigarettes and the stress was only increasing my need for nicotine. I took my keys, my phone, and my wallet. If he were in my home when I returned... I don't know, I suppose I'd have to talk to him. Or fight him. One way or another, this would be over. I hadn't taken five steps away from the building when I felt it. It's hard to describe it, but it was so intense I swear I could feel it in my bones. I think the best way to put it is heat. There was something as hot as anger being directed straight at me, piercing my back and hitting me as sharply as the cold winter wind. I turned around and I knew to look up at my third-floor window. There he was. Well, I say he, but I'm still not sure. The blinds were down, so I could only see the silhouette of what I think was a man. It was tall and lanky, its head as high as the ceiling. It had its eyes on me, staring through the blinds, projecting much more than just a glare. He was challenging me to go back upstairs. I didn't want to. I jumped when my phone chimed in. New email. When I looked up from my phone again, the blinds had been closed and I couldn't see that thing anymore. What he'd written made my blood run cold. Dear Richard,

We should all learn to live with the consequences of our actions. If you had no intention of vacating your apartment for six months, you shouldn't have put that ad up. As it stands, I have no intention of finding another place as the action of moving in – and cleaning your mess – was already strenuous enough.

Of course, you could always tell your landlord that there is a stranger in your apartment and refuse to pay rent from now on. That would eventually get us both evicted. It is your right to do so and I would understand completely. I can always follow you to a new apartment, though I don't think either of us wants that.

You have promised me a home for six months and you have told me that you don't care about the money as long as I take good care of your home. I intend to fulfill my side of the contract as long as you fulfill yours.

Respectfully,

Amir I must have stared at my phone for an hour after receiving that message. I didn't know what to do. Somewhere inside my apartment, my new TV was turned on. I've spent the last two days looking for cheap accommodations and I think I've found a depressing little basement in Mississauga that is within my budget. I can't afford much, though. I'm still looking for a job and now I am going

to have to pay twice as much rent. I'm not testing whatever it is that lives in my apartment now. I can only hope Amir keeps his word and leaves at the end of six months. God... I need to find a job.