#but I must say that I also get my head bitten off regularly

[sharkker-dude]

part 1 (i got more and worse)

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Just Swimmingly ch.4 (BAON)

Summary:  Jeff doesn't know where they are or where they're going, but he knows one thing. It's probably not good.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationships,  Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags To Come

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it on AO3

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Read it here!

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By the time the van came to a stop, Stretch still hadn’t woken up. Not that it mattered very much, there wasn’t a thing Jeff could have done to change their situation. At the moment, they were very much outnumbered, overpowered, and even if he’d had a clue where they were, it wouldn’t have done them any good. Before they dragged him out of the van, one of the thugs yanked a bag over his head. Blinded, he struggled to stumble along as two guys pulled him out, trying not to cry out as they led him barefoot across crumbling asphalt into a building with rough carpet.

He kept as quiet as he could, trying to not only listen in case they said anything useful, but also for Stretch, praying to a God he hadn’t spoken to since he was fifteen and his father threw him out that they didn't hurt Stretch. Jeff could survive a few bumps and bruises, but he didn't know how much Stretch could withstand. Intent was key when it came to Monsters, he knew that much, and these guys seemed to have plenty.

At first, he tried to keep track of where he was being led. An impossible effort when the twists and turns of being dragged along left him too disoriented to know his way up or down. They seemed to walk forever until his captors suddenly stopped and Jeff was shoved down into a chair. Rough hands grabbed at him, rope suddenly binding his wrists and ankles. He didn’t struggle as he was tied, only tried to tense his muscles as much as possible, some shitty internet meme he vaguely remembered reading said that it could help slip free later.

Turned out memes weren’t the best source for escape plans. When they were done, Jeff subtly tried to move and the best he could manage was a painful rope burn. The ropes felt like they were wound through the slats in the chair and unless Houdini decided to make good on his possible return from the other side, Jeff was going nowhere fast.

He could hear their captors moving around, muttering too low to be understood and the other sounds might have been more rope. Tying up Stretch, maybe, he hoped that’s what it was; at least if they were together, that was something, hell, that was everything right now.

The bag suddenly getting ripped off his head made him gasp, flinching from the glaring light pointed directly into his face. Squinting, he could barely see the shadowy figures standing behind it, but he was sure he could see a cell phone pointed in his direction.

“Say your name,” a rough voice demanded.

“Andy—” he began automatically. “No, Jeff, I’m sorry, Jeff! My name is Jeff!” There was nothing else and Jeff shifted, grimacing as the ropes dug in. It was on the tip of his tongue to go on, to blurt that he worked in public relations, that he was nobody important and not worth ransoming. He bit the inside of his lip to keep those rambles from pouring out. Partly because it was probably stupid to tell kidnappers your value or lack thereof, and partly because of Edge. He’d always told them to never offer more information than was necessary and yeah, he’d been talking about board games at the time, but Jeff doubted that Clue was where Edge learned that particular rule. If these assholes wanted more info, they could damn well ask.

Either his name was all they wanted or they already had whatever other info they needed. Jeff didn’t even have a chance to try squinting through the too-bright light when one of them came towards him and yanked the bag back over his head. He sat there, sweat beading on his face and his own breath threatening to smother him as he listened to their captors moving around next to him.

“He can’t talk,” one of them said disgustedly. “He’s still wasted.”

Stretch. That meant he was right next to him, thank fucking god.

The rough sound of a slap made Jeff tense, protests bitten off when the same voice cursed and there came the sound of someone rubbing their head, “What the fuck, man!”

“That’s exactly how we want him, dumbass! He doesn’t need to talk, all they need is a good look at him. Come on, they’re waiting.”

Footsteps and then the sound of a door closing. Jeff strained to hear if anyone was still in there with them around his own breathing loud in his ears, his pulse thundering. There was nothing, no shuffle of feet against the floor or the creak of a chair. Jeff waited a little longer, curling his chilly toes against the rough carpet.

Nothing. Jeff took a long, slow breathing, trying to calm his racing pulse. He needed to be cool right now so he could try to think of something. Even if the Embassy was willing to give these assholes whatever they wanted, they sure as hell couldn’t count on that saving their lives. He was no strategist, his degree was in sociology, for fuck’s sake, but. Stretch always called him Handy Andy and it made him feel like someone different, someone braver who could stand up to a violent asshole on a bus and help Stretch with crazy experiments involving swinging bottles of Diet Coke rigged with automatic mentos dispensers. Jeff might not be the best for this situation, but Andy was sure as hell gonna try.

“Stretch,” Jeff said softly. He waited for someone to shout or a slap followed by a demand that he shut up. When none came, he went on, soft and urgent, “I know you can't hear me, but, just in case you can. It's gonna be okay. I know you're big on promises and I'm promising you right now we're getting out of this. I promise you." If he could glean anything of what Jeff was saying, he hoped he could hear that much. At least maybe he wouldn't be afraid.

"i sure hope so, i didn't get this far in life to get dusted by a low rent group of third rate scooby doo level villains. seriously, they tied us up with rope, were they out of packing tape at ‘kidnappers ‘r’ us’ or were they just eager to try the knots they learned in boy scouts before they got kicked out."

Okay, that wasn’t quite the last thing he’d expected, but it was close.

"Stretch?" Jeff gasped out. He couldn’t see a damn thing through the bag, but he could hear a muted popping sound. Suddenly, the bag was gone, far gentler than before and then he was blinking up into Stretch’s smirking face.

Jeff looked around a little wildly and next to him was another chair, the still-tied ropes hanging from the rungs in loose coils.

“yeah, sorry. i woke up back in the van, didn’t want to tip them off. wherever they buy their roofies must not have given them a dosage chart.” Stretch settled his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. “hold still, this is a lot easier than fighting with knots.”

It was the gentlest and shortest teleport he’d ever felt. Only a brief disorientation and when his vision cleared, he was sitting on top of the ropes that had just been binding him.

Jeff scrambled to his feet, swiping his sleeve across his sweaty forehead. Holy shit, maybe he should take up praying again more regularly, this was the fastest service he’d ever gotten. “Can you get us outside?”

His heart sank as Stretch shook his head. “that's gonna be a no. with the bags on our heads, i couldn't see where we are. shortcutting is tricky, it's dangerous to teleport blind. that's how you end up stuck in walls or halfway inside a table or some shit.” Stretch waved a slender hand at the chairs. “dangerous, not impossible. a few inches above where i was sitting was a pretty safe bet to get out of the ropes, but anything else is more likely to get us dead than on the street.” He frowned, glancing around the room thoughtfully. “plus, i'm not going anywhere without a little intel. they’re fucking idiots, but they knew enough to drug me and how to do it. that's not information you can just look up on a wiki-how.”

“Okay,” Jeff took a deep, steadying breath. "So, what do we do, then?” He glanced at the door. “Can you pick locks?"

"sure,” Stretch said absently. He was looking around the room. It was a storage room of some sort, there was more dusty furniture aside from the chairs, including a rickety desk, and metal cabinets lined the walls. “but i can't do much about the door being barred. i heard something get braced against it when they went out.

"Oh. Right."

“yeah,” Stretch agreed, “at least one of them has a brain cell or two rolling around up top, enough to get them this far. but the road trip is over and it’s time to pay the tolls.” Stretch shook his head disgustedly. "first rule of kidnapping is never leave the kidnappees alone. seriously, i'm getting my cues from netflix and even i know that.”

His eye lights paused in their survey of the room, brightening. Jeff followed his gaze and saw in one corner there was an honest to god old-fashioned rotary telephone pushed into the far corner of the desk, nearly buried under the clutter.

"can't be that easy, can it?” Stretch marveled. He picked it up the handset and held to his skull, then sighed unhappily. “nope. no dial tone, no surprise there, no one has a landline anymore. don’t you worry though, little phone.” Stretch gave it a soft pat. “you’re gonna be real useful in just a minute. seriously, this is just embarrassing. my first kidnapping attempt and they locked us in a room with an entire arsenal.”

“I must be missing the vendor in the corner willing to hand over gear if we do a mission for them,” Jeff joked weakly.

“everything is an arsenal if you’ve got the skills.” Stretch rummaged through the desk and came up triumphantly with…a paperclip? He set it on the desk, adding a pencil, some scotch tape, and what looked to Jeff like an old tube of superglue. “kidnapped by the ebott equivalent of the america’s dumbest criminals, fuck me. edge is going to be up my ass for a month.”

“I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit.” It was easier to be calm in the face of Stretch’s ease. “I think six months is the bare minimum.”

“i really wish you weren’t right.” Stretch glanced around the room again, this time directing his gaze upward. “hm, that’ll work.” Tall as he was, the ceiling was still out of reach even for him. Stretch pulled one of the chairs over, ropes trailing behind it like tentacles, and stood on it, reaching for the smoke detector. Jeff could only blink in confusion as he yanked it right off the ceiling.

"You're going to burn down the building?” Jeff asked. Not that he didn’t trust Stretch, but, uh, that seemed extreme for a first escape attempt. “That’d get us out, but I don't think we'll be any more alive."

"nah, just need some parts,” Stretch jerked his head towards the door. “keep an ear on the hallway, will ya, in case they remember that leaving us alone is probably stupid."

“Got it.” Jeff went to the door but before he could press his ear to it, Stretch called his name.

"hey, kiddo, i'm gonna get us out of this." Stretch offered him a familiar, lopsided smile. "i know i don't look like much, but i've been known to keep my head in a bad situation."

"You already saved me once,” Jeff said honestly, "why wouldn't I believe you now?"

Stretch’s pale eye lights flickered with memory, his expression briefly tightening. How did he remember that horrible night in that parking lot, Jeff wondered, what nightmares haunted Stretch’s sleep? He knew something happened after the ambulance took him away, but he’d never heard the entire story. After he’d been released from the hospital, he’d been wrapped up in healing enough to start his new job at the Embassy and as time passed, he hated to ask, didn’t want to dredge it all up again, not when everyone was slowly getting past it. Besides, the others had their own shit to deal with, what with the attack in California and everything happening in Ebott. His trauma was his to handle and that was the end of it.

At the desk, Stretch got to work, humming the ‘mission impossible’ theme under his breath as he dissected the phone and smoke detector with a makeshift screwdriver made from a bent paperclip taped to a pencil. His hands were as deft and easy as any demonstration he’d done for the local kids and Jeff could only marvel at his ease.

“How can you be so calm?” Jeff blurted, wincing even as the words escaped. He hadn’t meant to say it, didn’t want to distract him. Stretch only flicked a glance his way, both browbones raised.

“me?” Stretch snorted, “i am not calm. beneath this gorgeous cookie crust exterior is a honey pie of a person who would start shitting themselves if i could grow the prerequisite equipment. but we're gonna be okay.”

“How do you know?” Jeff hated the faint pleading in his own voice, he shouldn’t be distracting; Stretch was as stuck here as he was and with his HP, it was even worse. He was supposed to be the one helping Stretch, he’d promised, and the best he could do was lookout.

“you seriously think red isn't already on it?” Stretch asked and as terrifying as Red could be, thinking about him right now eased some of the aching fear that was settled in Jeff’s stomach. “all he needs is a clue and we’re gonna get him one. i only hope he can keep edge from razing the city and salting the earth beneath it until then. people might be a little tetchy about that and i’m not even sure you can come up with a press release that’d cover ‘sorry about starting city-wide armageddon, my bad.’”

Before Jeff could think of a reply to that, either an agreement, or a protest that a little chaos could be excused considering the circumstances, he heard footsteps coming from down the hallway. Panicked, he hissed out, “They're coming!”

“fuck, okay, okay.” Stretch scrambled over and set some kind of contraption on the floor near the door that was all waggling wires and circuit boards. He grabbed Jeff by the wrist and dragged him along. “over here, come on, this a harder trick, but you can do it. i need you to hold as still as you can. if you move, they might see you, you get me?"

Jeff managed a hasty nod as Stretch shoved him into a corner, cramming them both in tight, out of the way. "don't move, don't talk,” Stretch reminded him, a low murmur close to his ear. The slim, bony arms around him were comforting and even knowing that Stretch couldn’t physically protect him, having him towering overhead as he caged Jeff against the wall felt oddly safe.

Then something happened. He didn’t know how to describe it. It felt like a heavy curtain fell over the world, everything going distant and muffled, even his vision greying like he was about to faint, only he’d never felt so awake. There was a sudden popping explosion as the door swung open and collided with Stretch’s contraption, but it sounded miles away, the kidnappers’ curses as muffled as if they were speaking from another world.

He didn’t move, held perfectly still even as that curtain slowly grew claustrophobic, nausea starting to churn. Jeff closed his eyes, swallowing convulsively and just went he thought he couldn’t stand it a moment longer, that he either needed to move or he’d start screaming, it was suddenly gone and Stretch was stepping back.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Stretch was pale, sweat showing visibly on his skull. "are you okay?" Stretch asked.

“Me?” Jeff blurted. He caught hold of Stretch’s arms to brace him as he wobbled on his feet. “I’m fine, what about you!”

"i’ll be okay.” Stretch wiped his face on the sleeve of the crummy shirt he’d been forced into with a grimace. “i pulled us halfway into the void. it works, but it burns a lot of juice. the assholes booked it out of here, but more importantly, they left the door open."

The door was opened, they could leave, and yet, Jeff found himself blurting out, “They’ll get away!”

“no,” Stretch said grimly. “they’ll look for us first, thinking we couldn’t have gotten too far. these guys aren’t gonna ditch and run that fast, they know too much. think about it. drugs work on monsters but how do they know what kind and how much? lucky for me, skeleton monsters are different. our systems are finicky, we’re hard to drug. whoever tipped them off about how to roofie me didn’t know that.”

His sockets narrowed suddenly, Stretch turning away to look in the rusty cabinet next to them. “oh, honey,” he said gleefully, “jackpot.”

Jeff joined him, peering into the cabinet as Stretch cautiously wrenched it open. “What did you find?”

He held up a bottle of bleach and said, smugly, “just some nice, normal household chemicals. they can be lots of fun if you know how to mix 'em up and i'm a one hell of a bartender. but first.”

On the desk was another little contraption that was mostly wires and tape. Stretch picked it up and walked over to squat next to a wall outlet. Carefully, he pushed it into the socket. There was a sputtering spark and a tiny red light blinked to life.

“there we go.” Stretch stood, dusting off his hands. “i don’t even want to think about how pants-shittingly angry edge probably is right now, but we can’t let them get the ransom that asgore is probably going to pay and we sure as hell can’t let them get away.”

He grinned then, wickedly sharp for all that his teeth were blunt. “so, how’s about we have some fun, yeah?”

Jeff nodded determinedly. Fuck, yes. If he was going to add to his repertoire of nightmares, he was damn well going to make sure someone else paid for it, in spades.

tbc

[hotchley]

heyy sumayyah! firstly: i'm so sorry you got hate asks >:( some people really can't be nice... that sucks. i'm back with my hc to (maybe, hopefully) distract you/cheer you up!! just saying, it's LONG and it's kind of angsty in the beginning lmao sorry oops, but it gets a little better towards the end!! i promise!!

tw mentions of (bad) eating habits, very briefly implied abuse/domestic violence and alcoholism, brief mention of almost-fainting!!

so my own horrible eating habits got me thinking of Hotch who already doesn’t eat that much because of how he was raised (on his father’s bad days, his mother wouldn’t even be able to get up to make food and his father would be batshit drunk anyway, so no one made food and there’s nothing at home, and Hotch is too young and doesn’t know how to cook for himself, and that just carried its way into adulthood even after he learnt to cook (for Sean, because Sean is a growing boy and still has to eat and he would do anything to make sure Sean grows up happy) and even after he gets together with Haley, who always has to check in on him to make sure he's eating properly)

like, man would throw himself into his work, sometimes not on purpose but because he just was so intent on finishing just one more document, and time just slipped by and when he looks up again it’s 8pm, the bullpen’s almost empty, and then he realises that he actually hasn’t ate anything since he had his morning coffee. and after especially bad cases (Vincent Perrotta, Carl Buford, Tobias Hankel, that case on the pig farm, Foyet, etc.) he just, avoids food on purpose, distracting himself by finishing all the paperwork he has, even if they’re not urgent, sometimes even completing the team’s paperwork (as much as he can) just because he feels like he’s failed them. the team doesn't deserve to be bogged down by all these bureaucratic issues but he does, because what good is his role as their unit chief if he can’t even shield them from the evil out there, if he has to send his team into the abyss every single time and every time someone else gets more injured/fractured, and the least he could do is to help out the team with what he’s best with, right? all those behind-the-scenes, messy, cutthroat politics, because it’s okay if he takes the brunt of the scrutiny of the brass and if he could he would not even let the team relive what they’ve been through because they don’t deserve that, they don’t deserve having to recount their traumatic experience in a bloody report that will eventually just be filed and chucked aside but will leave emotional and mental scars on his agents that will never be erased.

or sometimes he’s just stressed out and anxious and food just really doesn’t go well with his stomach, and he opts to skip meals entirely - he drinks coffee only because he still needs to keep awake, to make sure he’s paying full attention on all these cases and victims and his team who deserve his 120%, and because his stomach’s been conditioned to accept coffee no matter what (over 10 years of being in the BAU after over another 5? years as a prosecutor, where he drank coffee like his life depended on it). and sure, he’s lost weight, his ribs slightly showing when he raises his hands to reach for things/take off his sweaters, sure he’s looked a little more gaunt and tired as the years go by, sure he’s had some almost fainting spells in his office after a long day without food, where his vision just blacks out for 5 seconds after he stands up and he has to clutch onto the edge of his desk to stabilize himself, but it's okay to him, because he must be the strong, stoic, reliable leader for his team and he can’t faint in his office, not when the blinds are open and the team can look in and when he knows that Derek, Emily and Spencer are all looking in concerned because he hasn’t left his office all day

and i’m just also thinking about how the team would just, do their best to feed him??? like, when they stop for gas on long road trips to/back from cases, he always doesn’t buy anything besides a coffee (black, as usual, with just a dash of sugar and cream on good days) for himself, but then JJ passes him an unopened nutri bar which she claimed she bought earlier for herself but now 'doesn’t feel like eating anymore', Dave silently hands over a cookie (chocolate chip, his favourite) and stares at him with his eyebrows raised until Aaron accepts the cookie and actually eats it, Derek slips a wrap into his hands somehow and offers to drive because 'Hotch, you gotta finish your wrap', Spencer casually asks Hotch if he can help him finish off this sandwich which he bought but cannot finish, and Hotch looks down and sees a perfectly fine egg and ham sandwich which hasn’t even been bitten into, but Spencer’s looking at him with those eyes (he thinks of Jack and how strikingly alike his sons they are) so he takes the sandwich and eats it, Emily openly challenges him and says ‘here’s the bag of chips i owe you, you better finish it all because i took the trouble of actually getting them or else’ and he goes along with it because he’s learnt that arguing with her is sometimes equivalent to arguing with Penelope, and that mostly ends up with him going along with both their ‘suggestions’ in the end anyway, and on the rare cases where Penelope goes with the team out into the field, she always packs homemade cookies and cupcakes that are so wonderfully bright and colourful, like everything about her, and when she gets to him with those sparkling hopeful eyes and says ‘I made these myself, come on, have a taste and let me know what you think?’, Hotch can’t help but accept it because he doesn’t ever want to disappoint Penelope and make her sad, because her bubbly and innocent demeanour reminds him of Jack and he would never do anything to kill that bright light that is Penelope

aND I’m getting some big emotions. imagine all the subtle (& not so subtle) things the team does just to make sure he eats (regularly) which may include and are not limited to: inviting themselves over to Hotch’s house for homecooked meals (Spencer, Derek), inviting him & Jack out on outings or playdates which most often than not end with them at restaurants where Hotch eats because Jack needs a good role model on healthy eating behaviours and he’s got to be that for Jack (Derek, Emily, JJ), or just showing up at his house/office to leave him baked goods/cooked meals that were always somehow ‘extras’ or ‘leftovers’ (JJ, Penelope, Rossi, Spencer) i'm sorry this got so long!! it was written a little over a month ago when i was procrastinating on my literature essay in the middle of the night, so i got a little angsty LOL. i hope this distracts you somewhat from the horrible ask you got! take care of yourself! sending love and hugs <33

🌙

Putting my answer below the keep reading for scrolling x

Aww thank you for sending it!! When I saw I had an ask, I really thought it was you, and then it was that stupid anon and I was like: Oh okay then... I have to go eat dinner so....

Ohh... his childhood... the poor kid would've been so much smaller, but so determined to do everything for Sean because that's his little brother and he loves him more than anything... I love Haley though <3

He would so do that though. He would tell himself he could eat once he's done something- which is really unhealthy, if you're reading this do not ever withhold food, if you're feeling hungry just eat something it doesn't matter what it is because something will always, always be healthier than nothing- and then he would pick something else up and the cycle would repeat...

He would convince himself the coffee is enough, that there's nothing wrong with his habits because he's never done anything different, but he would know deep down that it's not right. But he still wouldn't eat anything because he knows it'll make him naesous either way.

The worst part is what are the team meant to do in that situation? They can't force him to eat... as much as they may want to, they can't...

YES! The team would have a tally chart of who last had to make Hotch eat, so they would have a rota, and occasionally (all the time actually) they would deviate from said rota and then they would all look at each other and then laugh because eh, it's fine!

That ending was so cute, I love them <3

Noo!! Don't be sorry it go so long, I love it so much!! I might have to work it into a fic... wait... one of them may have referenced JJ giving him in a sandwich, unless that was only in my head lol

[embeanwrites]

can you do an artemis x reader based off of either crush culture by conan gray or scary live by the neighbourhood? sorry if you don’t do song-based fics, i wasn’t sure. thanks anyway!

A/N: I haven’t written a songfic in so long, so I hope I still have that magic! I use to exclusively write them! I hadn’t heard of either of these songs, so I listened to both and went with Scary Love! Also decided to put them both in college bc I’m a sucker for two nerds meeting at a party (Also I’m a simp for cuddles and kisses 

Masterlist

Move to the city with me

Don't wanna be alone

Don't wanna be alone

You're too pretty for me

Baby, I know, it's true, yeah

It was rare Artemis went out with friends, it was even rarer that he followed them to a party. But here he was at some frat house on a Friday. He had ditched his friends five Fridays in a row and he was starting to feel bad about saying no every time. He told himself he just needed to go to one party and then he could say no without feeling guilty. 

He was holding a red solo cup full of a mix between fruit punch and vodka. It was honestly terrible, but by holding it fewer people walked up and asked him if he wanted a drink. He wanted to leave, but he felt bad ditching his friends when they were absolutely wasted. 

The pop music was beginning to give him a headache so he headed outside. He was surprised that the police hadn’t been called to tell them to turn it down. Not technically leaving the party, but he went far enough away that maybe he could just take a break from this mess. Hopefully, his friends would be ready to leave soon. He wasn’t looking forward to babysitting the three of them. 

You look better when you first wake up

Than anybody else I've fucked

Baby, I got good luck with you

I didn't know we'd get so far

And it's only the start

Baby, you got me worried 

Outside a few stragglers were sitting in the grass. Including a couple of people making out. Artemis began walking around the house to find a quiet place to sit.

“Artemis?” He turned towards the voice and saw a girl he recognized from his political sociology class. They were the only two people who regularly talked and answered the professor’s questions. She was highly intelligent and was a decent debater. 

“(Y/n).” He smiled and walked towards her. He sat down next to her. She was sitting in the grass with a book. When he sat down she put her bookmark in and held her book to her chest. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” She looked over at him with a small smile. 

“I didn’t expect to spend my Friday here.” He smiled back at her. Maybe it was the vodka in his system or maybe he was just really happy to be around her. 

Your love is scaring me

No one has ever cared for me

As much as you do, ooh

Yeah, I need you here

Your love is scaring me

No one has ever cared for me

As much as you do, ooh

Yeah, I need you here

“Do you make it a point to come to parties and sit outside to read?” He teased. She laughed and looked at her book.

“No, I have an essay due tomorrow night and I’ve been putting it off.” She sighed. “My friends forced me to come. They’ve asked me every Friday and I’ve finally run out of excuses they’ll buy.” Artemis felt his face heat up. She was smart and socially awkward like him. 

“What’s your essay about?” He gently took the book from her. ‘Controlling Desires’ by Kirk Ormand. He smirked and flipped through the book. 

“It’s supposed to be about comparing translations to direct sources. However, this dude found new fragments and he credited them to Sappho, but it really seems that he made them up. I asked the professor if I could write about that instead. She said yes, but now I’m regretting it.” Artemis watched her nervously pulling and fidgeting with grass. He noted how nervous she seemed. “I know, I’m a huge dork. I just like sociology and classics.” 

“You’re not a dork for enjoying school.” He nudged his shoulder against hers and she smiled at him. “If I wasn’t here I would probably be reading.”

“What would you be reading?” She asked, watching him flip through her book. 

“Well, seeing this book makes me want to re-read Ovid’s Metamorphoses.” She turned towards Artemis and her whole face lit up, she had a nervous smile. 

Ridin' through the city with me

Just watching you glow

I'm in the passenger sea

You're in control

It's on you now, mhm

“This might be a little forward, but do you want to come back to my dorm?” He watched her fiddle with more pieces of grass. He was surprised by how forward she was, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed by her. She had guts.

“My friends, they're wasted and I really need to make sure they get home safe.” He watched her face fall, causing him to wince. “I would really like to, it’s just-”

“It’s okay, really I shouldn’t have asked-”

“(Y/n)! Are you ready?” Artemis looked over to see two girls looking over at the two of them curiously. Before he could say anything else she gently took her book back, gave him a small wave, and left with her friends. 

That was the first girl that’s expressed interest in him since coming to college. He pulled his knees to his chest and hugged his legs. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in her. She is smart, passionate, and cute. He liked the way her eyes lit up when she started talking about something she liked and how she never backed down in class, no matter how many people were against her. He was afraid she wouldn’t like him back, but she just asked him out and he said no. 

“I’m an idiot.” He muttered into his legs. 

You look better every day, I swear

Really, it's a little unfair

Baby, I'm star-struck by you

Didn't know we'd get so far

And it's only the start

Baby, you got me worried (ay)

Artemis managed to wrangle his friends and get them back to their respected dorms before he was standing outside her residence hall. He felt weird knowing where she lived, but she complained about it one time to him in class. It had no AC and the hot water only worked half the time. He had no idea what his next move would be, he didn’t have her phone number and he didn’t even know where her room was. 

“Hey?” He turned around and there she was for the second time. She was still clutching her book from earlier. “What are you doing here?”

“I got my friends home and I thought I’d come by if your offer still stands of course. I understand if you want me to leave.” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and looked at his feet, failing to notice her small smile. “Why aren’t you inside?”

“I walked to my friends' home, they live a couple halls away.” She looked at him nervously. “Do you want to come up to my room? My roommate went home for the weekend. I have a really cool Greece and Rome translation book you may like.” 

“That sounds like fun.” She walked over to Artemis and gently grabbed his hand, leading him inside the building. 

Your love is scaring me

No one has ever cared for me

As much as you do, ooh

Yeah, I need you here

Your love is scaring me

No one has ever cared for me

As much as you do, ooh

Yeah, I need you here

Her room was nice and orderly except for her desk. She had at least twenty books stacked on the desk, papers filled with notes, and old quizzes. He looked over and saw the last paper they had gotten back from political sociology. 

“You got a 99 out of 100?” He asked, he knew she was good at the class, but he hadn’t realized that she was probably the top student in the class. Even with his paper, he got a 95, but he credited most of that to the fact he didn’t grow up around American politics as she had. He looked over at her, her face was flushed red and she looked embarrassed. 

“Yeah, I put that paper through the wringer. I got a 98 on the first one. My goal is to get a 100 on the last one, but I may have bitten off more than I can chew with my topic. What are you writing about?” 

“Political Polarization found in non-fiction books unrelated to politics. What about you?” She smiled widely.

“Conspiracy theories and political polarization. Lord knows how many crazy videos I’ve had to watch for the paper.” They both laughed. “So, I’m a pretty straightforward person, so hopefully this doesn’t freak you out, but I really like you. I think you’re smart and funny and I would be so mad at myself if I didn’t tell you that before the end of the semester.”

 If we fall apart

Maybe it wasn't meant to be

If we fall apart

Then it was our favorite dream

Ooh, ooh, yeah

“I like you too.” He whispered he could barely believe this was happening. But she was standing in front of him with an unreal smile. He couldn’t help but smile back. “This may be the vodka talking, but do you want to make-” She gave him no chance to finish as she pressed her lips against his. 

Without breaking away they both made it towards her bed, well he assumed it was her bed because she led him to it. Breaking away she jumped up on the twin-sized bed and shyly smiled at him. 

“Lowkey, I have liked you since the beginning of the semester. Do you want to make out and cuddle? It’s kind of late to walk back. Don’t you live across campus? You’ve also been drinking so it’s unsafe anyway to walk back alone and if I walk you back then you’d have to walk me back and it would just be an endless cycle.” She talked so fast Artemis thought he was experiencing whiplash. He smiled and jumped up on the bed next to her. 

“Cuddles and making out sounds like a great plan.” He didn’t think it was possible, but her smile grew as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He placed one hand on her cheek and the other on her waist as they resumed kissing. 

Your love is therapy

No drug can give me clarity

As much as you do, ooh 

Yeah, I need you here 

Your love is scaring me 

No one has ever cared for me 

As much as you do, ooh 

Artemis woke up the next morning with a minor headache. He tried to move but realized something was on top of him, one of his arms, in particular, felt as if it was on pin and needles. He must have been in this position for a while for his arm to fall asleep. He looked down and saw (y/n).  

She had her head resting on his chest and one of her arms laying on his stomach. His arm that was asleep was pinned underneath her and his other arm was resting next to hers on his stomach. She looked so peaceful. Careful not to wake her, he brushed some of her hair out of her face and behind her ear. She hummed in contentment but didn’t seem to be awake just yet. Artemis could barely believe that all this happened in one night. 

Maybe going to parties with his friends wasn't always a waste of time. 

Yeah, I need you here

Ooh, I need you, babe

Yeah, yeah, I need you, baby

Yeah

I need you

[harlot-of-oblivion]

A Rose of Unconscious Beauty (Part 6)

All work and no play make Dante a dull devil, but when he finds out about his brother's flowery friend he sees an opportunity to cure his boredom. Well, that and his curiosity about what kind of woman catches Vergil's attention. So, he decides to spontaneously visit your garden to see what all the buzz is about.

Hope you enjoy these two finally meeting! And gardening puns...just all the gardening puns. 😆❤

Here’s the link to the list of all the flowers featured in this part. 🌹🥰🌹

Chapter 1: Meeting Dante

Life has been pretty good for Dante since he got back from his little foray into hell. He may still be in quite a bit of debt, but that never stops him from living life to the fullest. For the first time in a long time he does not feel so alone in the Devil May Cry shop. There is just one problem that plagues him now as he leans back in his chair, feet propped up on the edge of his desk as a huge overdrawn yawn escapes his mouth…

He is bored.

Very, very…BORED.

The occasional odd job usually keeps him entertained, but business has been slow recently. There is only so much games of pool and swimsuit magazines before Dante is positively itching to fight something…anything. Nero has taken advantage of this dry spell and is finally getting hitched to Kyrie. Even Vergil, who he annoys into fighting sometimes just for sheer fact that it relieves his boredom for a while, has taken to disappearing from time to time.

Oh yeaaaaah. The mysterious flowery friend.

Dante ponders the potential of that whole situation giving him something to do besides sitting alone in his shop. He did not think it strange when Vergil started to go out more…in fact, he is proud that his brother is finally embracing his humanity and making this world his home. But when his cranky brother came back to the shop with pretty little blue flowers wrapped around his beloved Yamato…well, now that just piqued his curiosity. He tries to goad Vergil into telling him where he got the flowers or where he has been disappearing off to lately, but that conversation usually ends with him being stabbed a lot. Dante got his answer one day when Nero asks if he knew this florist that his old man just recommended to him. It all just suddenly clicked. The constant visits, the soft cloud nine smiles, just the overall secrecy…

Vergil…has a crush.

Just the idea of his brother being head over heels for someone has Dante shaking his head in wonder. Vergil has already left the shop, probably visiting his florist friend if Dante had to guess. It happens to be the day that Nero and Kyrie are supposed to meet their savior of flowers. He wanted to tag along to see what all the hype is about, but Nero absolutely refused to let him. Usually, that is not enough to deter Dante, but then his nephew just had to sick Kyrie on him. And how could anyone say no to her? So, here he sits…extremely bored and very curious.

I have to know if it’s true…if my dumbass brother really is lovestruck…

A sudden idea pops into Dante’s head as he takes out his cellphone and begins to text:

Dante: Hey! Gonna see your old mans flower girl today, amiright?

Nero: NO. Forget it.

Nero: Im not spying 4 u

Dante: NO ONE said ANYTHING about spying!

Dante: Just a couple of pics!

Nero: NO U CREEP

Dante: OH C’MON!!!

Dante taps on his screen vigorously as he provokes his stubborn nephew to reply, but after a few minutes of continued silence he gives up. He rolls his eyes as he groans in mild irritation and drops his phone onto the desk. His nimble fingers stroke his scruffy chin in thought, wondering if there will ever be an end to this torturous boredom…then it hits him faster than the Devil May Cry van. Nico! Dante snaps his fingers and nods his head in approval at his own ingenious idea. He snatches his phone back up and begins to text again:

Dante: Heyyyyyyy

Nico: Wat

Dante: Wanna help a friend out?

Nico: Lemme guess

Nico: U want me to spy for ya, right?

Dante: A couple of pics is NOT spying

Nico: Yeah yeah whatever

There is a long pause and Dante almost thinks his last-ditch effort is a bust. Until…

Nico: Mayyyyybe I’ll do it

Nico: Wats in it for me tho?

Dante only has to think about her prize for second before replying.

Dante: I’ll let you check out my guns

Nico: Ive already seen my fair share of muscles

Dante: Im talking about Ebony and Ivory

Nico: U GOTTA FUCKIN DEAL

Dante clenches his fist in victory. Nico tells him to hold tight while she finds a good hiding spot and the perfect angle. So, he grabs the nearest swimsuit magazine to read while he waits for Nico’s sneaky photos.

He only has to read a couple of pages of articles and check out a few curvy ladies before his phone vibrates. “Well now…let’s see what we've got,” he announces aloud as his hand instantly picks up his phone and eagerly opens up the message. Here she is! is written below two pictures of a bubbly woman with a bright smile and lively eyes. In one photo she is sitting down at a garden table, and in the other she is standing by a bed of flowers. She is wearing white summer dress and has a white flower in her hair. Dante chuckles in glee because now he understands why his brother has fallen so hard: the local florist is a total babe!

Dante is about to get back to his magazine when another text from Nico comes through:

Nico: Yoooooooooo

Nico: U didnt tell me that Vergil was gonna be here!

Dante: Im not my brother’s keeper!

Nico: Im NOT about to get stabbed if he catches me

Nico: Im out

Dante: WAIT

Dante: I’ll sweeten the deal!

Dante: If you get a pic of them together

Nico: DANTE

Dante: Then I’ll let you check out my guns

Dante: FOR A WEEK

A very long pause follows and Dante thinks that Nico is still going chicken out despite his sudden add on to her prize when her response chimes in:

Nico: U better hold up your end of the deal, Dante

Dante: Nicooooo u know I always keep my word!

Nico: Cuz if u dont, I’ll run u over with the van

Dante: No u wont

Nico: VROOM VROOM BITCH

Dante’s amused chuckle echoes throughout the shop. “So, that’s where you’re running off to,” he comments to himself. “The secret garden.” As he waits for Nico’s next photo, he starts to wonder what kind of a woman catches the eye of his broody brother. I mean…sure, you’re a cutie, but Dante knows that Vergil is not so easily swayed by looks alone. Of course, he could be reading into this too much and you’re actually just a really adorable friend…which is why he has to see both of you together. If Vergil has that soft smile on his face and if you show any sign of reciprocating his brother’s feelings…

His phone vibrates and Dante immediately opens the message. How's this for ya? reads Nico’s text along with a bunch of laughing emojis and a video clip. He arches an eyebrow as he presses play. He sees Nero, Kyrie, Vergil, and you all walking together by a bunch of flowers. He cannot make out the soft conversation of the group, but he does hear a lighthearted giggle as you do a twirl. Dante squints his eyes when he notices your hand reach for something in your dress…then his eyes widen as you throw petals into the air. The distinct growl of his brother comes through the audio and Dante nearly chokes on his own laugh. Some of the little pink flowers you threw…are sticking to Vergil’s hair!

I’m totally saving this just for the look on his face!

Dante kicks his feet off of the desk and he leans forward in his chair, never taking his eyes off the screen as Nero and Kyrie step out of frame. He tilts his head when Vergil kneels and you start to pluck the flowers from his hair. Dante has to rub his eyes to make sure he is really seeing these events correctly. Things get really interesting when you move in closer. The awkward expression on his brother’s face is pure gold. But what really has him pressing his nose to the screen is when Vergil stands up and you both just stare at each other. It is like a scene cut straight from a romantic movie. Dante has never seen his brother look so…totally in love. And you are mirroring the exact same expression.

Jackpot!

The video starts to shake and he hears Nico quietly cursing up a storm. The screen is a blur for a moment before it just totally cuts off. Dante is still for a while as he takes in everything that just happened. He honestly did not expect Vergil to be bitten by the love bug. A genuine smile curls on his lips as he thinks that maybe you are exactly what his brother needs to finally let go of the past and start living. But he cannot be the helpful little brother that he is without at least meeting you first. The genuine smile turns mischievous as Dante texts Nico about happened after the video ended and where exactly is this secret garden in the city...

(A Week Later...Reader’s POV)

The late afternoon sun beats down as you wipe the sweat from your brow. You examine the rambling roses you are currently pruning, checking to see if you missed anything before standing up and stretching your legs. Sweet basil, it’s hot, you thought, taking off your gardening hat and fanning your face as you pocket your pruning shears. You think about Vergil and how he always seems to keep cool while wearing a long blue coat in the summer.

The power of Sparda must also include internal air conditioning. You giggle at your own quip as you put the gardening hat back on your head and decide to take a break. As you walk through the multitude of flowers you search for any sign of the Son of Sparda among the flora. He has not called to inform you that he is stopping by today, but that does not necessarily mean he will not show up unannounced…annoyingly startling you before buttering you up with an offering of beautiful blooms.

Vergil has been regularly visiting you in your garden now. Sometimes both of you read and drink tea under the fruit trees, other times you have to work and just let him read in peace while frolicking about your garden. Every now and then he insists on looming close behind you, claiming that he wants to observe how you arrange bouquets and care for the flowers. There are a few times that you somehow rope him into helping since he is so inclined to learn and you must admit…seeing a tall and imposing man handle tiny flowers carefully is so endearing, making you fall even harder for the handsome devil.

You step through the backdoor and walk into your kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and swiftly open the door. When the cold air hits your face you sigh and just stand there for a moment to cool off as you reach for a bottle of water. You close the fridge and head to your office to check the status of a shipment on your computer while you guzzle down half of the bottle. The flowers for Nero and Kyrie’s wedding are well in supply, but you ordered some extra ribbon, wires, needles, and other miscellaneous supplies. It is a little stressful that you only have so much time to pull this off, but that only pushes you to do your utmost best to give them the best flowers they have ever seen. All seems to be order, you mentally note, finishing off your water bottle as you tab out of the website.

Time to get back to work! You go back out to the garden, grab the garden hose, and turn on the outdoor faucet. You adjust the nozzle on the hose to spray into a mist and set off to water some flowers. “Alright, my darlings!” you say cheerfully as you step up to the first section of flowers. “Who’s thirsty?” You happily spray their petals with glistening droplets as you hum softly. One of the many reasons why you enjoy gardening so much is just how tranquil it can be, your mind slipping into a peaceful state as all your worries just drift away and you feel like a flower basking in the warm sunlight.

Although, you do find yourself ceaselessly daydreaming about a certain white-haired gentleman while gardening lately. You cannot get the feel of his slicked back locks out of your thoughts, yearning to do more than just pluck petals from his hair. You wonder if the bergamot scent is from a cologne he is wearing or the constant cups of his favorite tea. And the expression on his face after you picked the stray petals from his hair…cheeks slightly blushing as his gleaming silver eyes stare straight into your soul. The very memory of it has you shivering in delight as you turn around to water the next section of flowers.

“Holy hollyhock!”

The sudden appearance of a man in a long red jacket standing in your garden has you jumping back in surprise. Your foot steps on the garden hose, making you lose your balance and start to tip over. Thankfully, the stranger has quick reflexes and quickly leans forward to catch your fall. “Whoa! Easy there!” he exclaims as he sets you upright, doing his best to avoid the misty spray of the hose still clutched in your hand. That is when you notice his distinct white hair swaying in front of his blue eyes. And his face…if it was not for the slight fuzz of a beard or the care-free expression, he would be the spitting image of Vergil. Which can only mean…

“You must be Dante.”

“What gave it away?” he asks, dramatically holding his hands out to the side as he nods his head in confirmation.

“You wouldn’t be a Son of Sparda if you didn’t scare your local gardener to death!”

Dante tilts head at your answer and smirks as he examines you from head to toe. “I dig the overalls,” he comments as he gestures to your attire. You look down at your green gardening overalls, the phrase "I like big buds and I cannot lie" imprinted on the front surrounded by large colorful flower buds.

“Thanks!” you laugh, turning off the garden hose. “I’m Y/N! I don’t recall Vergil saying that he was going to finally introduce me to you.”

“So, he’s told you about me? Did he mention that I am the better-looking twin?” he jests as he takes a step back and strikes a charmingly rugged pose.

“Uh, he mentioned that you are a demon hunter, a foolish buffoon, and…whoa!” Your eyebrows shoot up as you closely examine his coat. “Your jacket does look really expensive!”

Dante rolls his eyes as he relaxes from his over-the-top stance. “He just can’t let that go, huh?” He shakes his head and lightly chuckles.

“So…what brings you to my garden?” you inquire kindly, not letting his surprise visit distract you from being hospitable. Dante did not mention his brother being present here with him, so you hope that Vergil does not mind you being friendly and helping his brother out if he needs it.

“The girls keep telling me I need something to brighten up the shop,” he explains as he scratches the back of his head. “So, I figured some flowers from my brother’s friendly neighbor florist might do the trick.”

You smile sweetly. “Okay! Do you have any kind of flowers in mind?”

“Well, my mother’s favorite flowers were-”

“Burgundy roses!”

Dante quirks an eyebrow. “Did you just read my mind?”

A giggle escapes your lips as you shake your head. “Vergil told me that his mother had a modest garden herself, and that she grew those roses a lot. Don’t worry,” you affirm as your hand sets down the garden hose. A big confident smile spreads across your face as you twirl in excitement, pausing to strike your own cute pose. “I got you covered!”

He nods his head in approval. “Right on.”

You make small talk with Dante as you lead him to the rose section of your garden, asking if by “the girls” he means the other two demon hunters that work with him. He confirms your guess and grumbles about how unfair it is that you know so much the crew while he knows next to nothing about you. That is quickly remedied though as he bombards you with the oddest series of questions…most of them involving strawberries and pizza. When you tell him that you used to work at the local pizzeria and bakery in your home town he enthusiastically asks if you made the pizzas. You laugh at his boyish glee and inform him that you sometimes helped with the pizzas, but you mostly baked the pastries and desserts.

“Here we are!” You point to a bush full of the dark reddish-purple roses as you step through the various buds and blooms. “Roses of unconscious beauty!” Dante studies the rose bush as you approach it, lean in, and inhale their lovely fragrance. You breathe out in delight and start looking for the best blooms for a bouquet. “Aren’t they lovely?” You look over your shoulder and see that Dante is barely paying attention. His blue green eyes gaze distantly at the rose bush, reminding you a little of Vergil’s silver blue eyes when he recedes into his head. You wait a moment before deciding to coax him out of pensive stupor.

“Flower for your thoughts?”

Dante blinks and shakes his head. “Sorry about that. I was just…remembering something.” He walks over and stands next you, a small grin appears on his face as he peers down at you. “These would look nice on my desk. I’ll take ‘em.”

“Alright!” You reach into your pocket, taking out the pruning shears still stored in there and begin snipping some select roses, carefully removing the thorns before sticking them in another pocket until you can properly tie them together.

Dante quietly watches you for a few moments before he crosses his arms and leisurely leans back. “So…you and my brother.”

You snip a third rose as you glance over at him. “Me and your brother…?” you repeat, hoping he will expand upon the conversation he started. Dante just continues to gaze at you inquisitively. Your brow furrows in puzzlement as you wonder what he is trying to imply…until it suddenly hits you.

No way. He can’t be…

“Are you…Dad-terogating me?”

“Am I what now?”

“You know…that thing fathers do when daughters bring home their boyfriends.” Your voice drops as you do your best impersonation a stern father figure. “What are your intentions little girl?”

“Oh man,” Dante snickers. “And what if I am?” he counters with a puckish smirk.

“Well, Mr. Sparda,” you begin with a cheeky grin, turning to him while you clutch a thornless burgundy rose close to your chest. “I only have the best intentions towards your brother, Vergil. They include smiles, laughter, and a healthy dose of poetry with dash of tea…Oh!” You dip your hand into the front pocket of your overalls. “And lots of flower showers!” Your grin turns cheerful as you toss pink hydrangea petals high into the air.

Dante stares at you closely for a moment, totally unfazed by the petals scattering around him before he chuckles softly. “Well now…how can I argue with that? My party pooper of a brother needs it.”

You giggle and go back to snipping more roses. A fourth one is freed and you begin to remove the thorns from the stem. “It’s sweet of you to look out for him, you know,” you point out with a genuine smile. “You’re a good brother, Dante.”

He smiles back and is about to respond when an awful hellish screech fills the air. Your head snaps over to the direction it is coming from, but you already know what those sounds mean. Dante casually looks over as well, but he does not look as concerned as you. His face reminds you more of the neighborhood kids when the ice cream truck drives by. “Looks like our flower pickin’ is gonna have to wait,” he surmises as he struts briskly towards the commotion.

You pocket the pruning shears and the rose in your hand as you hurriedly follow behind him. The screeching is now really loud and as you step into to a clearing you see the familiar forms of demons just beyond the gates of your garden. Even though you live in a city known for its constant hellish attacks, the sight of their malformed bodies never fails to freeze your blood. The closest one, resembling a large corrupted bat, flies over the gate and hovers near one of your apple trees. It shrieks as its throat starts to glow red. Anger floods through your body when you register what it intends to do to your lovely fruit trees.

“Oh, no you DON’T!” you shout as you run by the gardening tools still laying out, grabbing the garden hoe as you pass by and rush towards the bat-like creature. It swivels around just as you draw your makeshift weapon back and swing up at it with all your strength. The hoe connects and a pained squeal rings out as the demon is knocked back a little bit away from the apple tree. You let out a shuddering breath, quickly realizing that perhaps smacking a demon with a gardening tool was not the best idea.

Multiple gunshots startle you out of your internal dread as they streak up at the bat-like demon. It shakes violently before it drops to the ground and disintegrates. You turn around and see Dante holstering two guns behind his back before giving you a round of applause. “Not bad! Very inventive use of…” his hands pause as he inspects your tool curiously.

“It’s a hoe,” you bluntly inform him.

“Really?” Dante puts his hands on his hips as he circles around you, shielding you from the oncoming demons notice. “Well then…you really know how to handle a hoe!”

You snort and check your tool for any signs of it being broken or bent. “You know what they say…a dirty hoe is a happy hoe!” you joke, flashing him the disgusting bloody residue on the tip. Dante hunches over as a hearty laugh burst from his lips. You feel a sense of accomplishment at making such a clever gardening pun, but it is short lived as a series of terrible growls and roars remind you of the current danger. “Umm,” you mutter softly, “as much as I would like to give more demons a good hoeing…”

Dante reigns in his boisterous laughter and nods. “Yeah...get yourself to safety.” He runs and skillfully jumps over the gate. Before he goes to deal with the demons, he looks over his shoulder at you. “Even though I’m not a hoe I can still get rid of these nasty weeds,” he quips with a wink.

You laugh and shake your head at his own gardening pun before retreating back to your house, sighing in relief as your backdoor comes into view. When you are a few feet away from safety, a low rumbling growl reaches your ears, making you stop in your tracks. You still have your garden hoe, so you hold it up in defense as you scan your surroundings for any immediate threat. It is quiet for a moment…then a series obscure red streaks zoom around you. Your eyes try to track whatever is circling you, but you cannot see what is stalking you like prey.

Your body is quaking now as you turn around to glance behind you. A lizard-like demon with a vicious red blade protruding from one of its scaly arms is leaping through the air straight at you. Your instincts kick in and you raise your gardening tool up in defense, even though you feel certain that it will not enough to block that sharp blade. A series of tumultuous emotions sling around your mind, but one strongly overtakes you as the image of Vergil pops into your head…regret.

I didn’t even get to tell him that-

Before you are able to close your eyes and brace yourself for the deadly impact, a sudden blur of blue spheres pop up and knock back your scaly assailant. A familiar form clad in a blue coat suddenly appears next to the demon and proceeds to hit it with a series of slashes. When he finishes his ruthless onslaught, he turns his back on the demon and dramatically sheaths his sword. Just as the hilt of the sword slams into the case, the demon convulses in pain one last time before collapsing on the ground.

The regret you felt earlier fades away as your devilish rescuer turns towards you. The usual scowl on his face is now even more severe as he scrutinizes your appearance. He may be fuming with rage, but you do not mind, nor do you care. “Vergil!” you cry, trying to thank him for saving your life, but you feel so overwhelmed that no words come out. All you can do is smile gratefully as your eyes well up with tears, so happy that you get to see the man you feel so deeply for again after all.

Read Part 6 (Ch. 2) here

Read on my Ao3

My Master List if you want more ❤

Tagging: @drusoona, @thedyingmoon, @bettybattaglia, @veenus-ow, @meowykittenn, @fandomhell97, @vergilsangel, @venomous-lawyer, @alicewinchester

[evolutionsvoid]

The frigid waters of arctic lakes seem like a terrible place to call home. When they aren't encased in a thick layer of ice, their temperature is so cold that only Cryomancers would fancy a swim. You would think this frozen realm would be lifeless and empty, but that is far from the truth. Many creatures dwell in such a cold place and don't seem to mind it one bit! Makes me wish I had such adaptations, because then I wouldn't be freezing my roots off! Though I may gripe about the cold, I can't deny that I have enjoyed my studies in such places. It is incredible to see what life lurks within these frozen waters, and this entry is about one of them! The creature I write of now is known as the Galemess, an arctic predator that hunts in the chilly lakes and rivers. Some often describe it as a furred crocodile, and I can't say that is completely wrong. The long toothy snout, the finned feet, the long paddle-like tail, it all fits! The difference here, however, is that they are mammals, which is why they are able to survive in such an icy climate where crocodiles cannot. They do have scaly skin, but they also possess a thick coat of grey fur. They also don't need the sun and heat to stay warm, as their bodies take care of that. Even in the harshest conditions, they seem to get along just fine. If things get really bad, they can choose to hide on land or in the water, whichever works best! The Galemess are amphibious in nature, and their anatomy works well both on land and in water. Either domain is fine for them, as each provides a tasty supply of prey! When it comes to hunting, they are ambush predators. They take the crocodilian method of hiding and waiting for prey to drop their guard. They will lurk in the shallows of rivers and lakes, keeping an eye for anyone who is coming for a drink. Their bodies will remain submerged, concealing their form. Though they spend a good chunk of time in the water, they still need air to breathe. To fill their lungs, they use their long snouts to do the job. Their noses are flexible trunks that jut from their jaws, and they will raise them up to the surface to nab a breath. This allows them to remain underwater while only a tiny bit of their body is exposed. Using this as a snorkel, they will keep still near the shore, waiting for the perfect moment. When prey gets close, they will whip their tails and launch themselves forward. A long jaw filled with piercing teeth will clamp down and hold tight. They will then drag their prey into the water, where it is tough for them to fight back. By thrashing their heads about, they can inflict deep wounds to debilitate their target. In time, their victim will drown, and they can enjoy their meal. The carcass will be taken to a shallow part of the water body, so that they may easily eat. Even then, they will perch themselves at the lip of an underwater drop off, which will allow them to quickly disappear if an attacker comes forth. This method of hunting works so well for them, that they even take the act out of the water! In some places, snow can be deep enough to hide in, so they shall burrow beneath the fluffy layer. Their nose will be used as a snorkel once again, so that they can keep hidden. Blending in with the surrounding environment, most folk won't even realize a Galemess is nearby until they burst from a snowbank. Surprise is once again their key element, though some believe that Galemess may use their protruding noses as bait. By wriggling it amongst the white snow, they think that it may attract the attention of small predators who are looking for critters to eat. So far, not enough evidence has been gathered, but I wouldn't put this sneaky behavior past these creatures. During certain parts of the year, the Galemess may find their watery homes frozen over, which seems like an issue. It turns out that it is not! The icy layer does not inconvenience them, as they can carve out a breathing hole wherever they need! Their front most incisors on their upper jaw are specialized for the job, as they jut forward and are chisel-like. Locating a thin part in the ice, they use these teeth to chip through and open up a small hole to stick their noses in. Once it is carved out, they will be sure to maintain this breathing hole so that it does not seal back up. Galemess seem to memorize every breathing hole that is in their territory, and they regularly visit every one of them to keep them tidy. 

  An interesting note to make about the Galemess is that they may be closely related to the Pinniman. While the Pinniman is much more aquatic then their larger brethren, it is hard to miss the obvious similarities. Perhaps this species arose to fill a predatory niche that was missing in such an environment. However, this fierce nature has not protected them from hunters and fur traders. Their scaly hides and thick coats provide warmth and water resistance, which is key in such cold places. This has made them valuable to local villages, but they are not easy beasts to hunt. They are fast, deceptive and quite smart. Those who hunt in one spot long enough will find the local Galemess easily avoiding their traps and efforts. They will learn your strategy and use it against you. There have been stories about Galemess turning the tables on hunters, taking down those who dare underestimate them. One I have heard is about a population of Galemess who have learned how to chisel through canoe bottoms with their teeth. While one creature is used as a decoy to attract the hunter's attention, another will go below and bore a hole through the boat. Others have situated themselves near fishing nets and snares, sitting right where a trapper goes to check their lines. Due to their cunning and predatory nature, some tribes view these creatures as embodiments of the hunt. Those who wish to prove themselves worthy for the hunt must first best a Galemess, which proves their skill and knowledge. Hunters who grow lax and lazy are said to become targets of the Galemess, who shall punish them for their sloppiness. To be bitten by one of these beasts is a mark of shame, as it is a sign that you have failed as a hunter and that you have disgraced the beasts of the hunt. One must undergo a special ceremony to regain their honor. A step of it is to go out a hunt another Galemess, to prove that you are superior. If you succeed, you can reclaim your title and rejoin the hunt! I just wonder what happens if you get bit again. Double the shame? Yeah, probably. At that point it is probably best just to let the thing eat you.   Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian --------------------------------------- I think this creature can be summed up as "crocodile+desman." Nothing super crazy, but I am pleased with it.

[avengerscompound]

Bringing Home Kobik - 4

Bringing Home Kobik: A Winterhawk Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton

Word Count:  1827

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Smut on the series (M|M, oral, anal), the aftermath of torture, PTSD, mentions of child abuse

Synopsis:   When Bucky decides to try to get legal custody of Kobik he meets resistance due to him being a single man. Clint steps up as a co-parent to help with the process.

Art by @bexlie-draws

Chapter 4

Moving into the new apartment went about as well as to be expected.  Bucky and Clint’s tastes weren’t too drastically different. Bucky had more personal stuff considering he’d collected it over a smaller amount of time.  Clint had less new things. It was like Bucky had rebuilt his life recently and was trying to surround himself with things that reminded him how far he’d come, whereas Clint had a few personal items he had refused to let go off and had gotten nothing else since.

There had been arguments about which couch got kept.  Clint was adamant they keep his ugly flea bitten brown one.  Bucky had a much nicer, black leather three seater with matching recliners.  The argument that had ensued had attracted the attention of a couple of random agents as they walked past.  They’d ended up going to get Steve because they were worried about Bucky and Clint killing each other. In the end, the ugly brown couch was framed by two newer black recliners and Bucky’s couch ended up in his room.

Bucky and Clint’s wall decorations all blended pretty seamlessly.  Bucky liked Clint’s tendency to decorate with photos of the people he loved, so he’d just gone and reframed the photos and added some of his own.  They’d ended up with a wall with pictures all covering it and some random spaces for photos of Kobik when she arrived and started settling in.

Clint’s bow hung on the wall by the door.  There were bookshelves with a mixture of their books and knick-knacks though neither of them particularly owned that many of the latter.  Bucky’s X-Box sat on top of Clint’s PlayStation. They had both thought they should just round out the consoles and gone and bought a Nintendo Switch.  Their rooms were just how they wanted them. Bucky’s in dark colors and neat while Clint’s had somehow gotten that ‘lived in’ feel within a day of moving in.

There was a lot of talk about what should happen with Kobik’s room.  Should they wait until she got here? Should they have it ready so she had somewhere nice right away?  In the end, they’d settled on halfway between the two. Bucky knew her best so he had the room painted in a pale blue and bought wall stickers ranging from woodland creatures to space.  He put them aside for Kobik to put up how she wanted. He bought a lot of books. Kobik loved to be read to and he loved reading to her. He filled a bookshelf with kids books he’d bought at a second-hand bookstore.  He bought a quilt and sheet set in a similar pale blue as the walls but decorated in clouds and a white princess bed. He also bought toys. Not many. Just enough so she had things to do. A small table with art supplies like paper, crayons, paints, and Play-Doh.  A few plush toys. A box of Lego. He wanted to take her shopping again when she settled in, even though he knew she could just create the things she wanted. He was determined she knew she could rely on other people too.

Once everything was ready and they were settled into a slightly uneasy routine a social worker organized to come by and evaluate them.  She arrived at three in the afternoon with a briefcase and a clipboard wearing a sharply cut skirt suit and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun.

“Ms. Anders,”  Bucky said offering her his hand when he opened the door.  “I’m James Barnes and this is my… uh… partner… Clint Barton.”

“Partner?  You’re not married?”  Anders asked.

Bucky froze blinking.  He was sure they had known the exact situation this was and being faced with the fact that they thought he and Clint were an actual couple he didn’t know what to do.

Clint sidled up beside him and offered Anders his hand.  “Well, you know. We thought about it, but we aren’t really great at doing the whole ‘everyone staring at us’ thing.”

“Really?  But you’re Avengers”  Anders asked shaking his hand.

When she released his hand Clint moved his palm against Bucky’s and linked their fingers.  Bucky looked down at their hands and back up to Clint’s face still in a blank state of shock.  Clint nodded at him and Bucky closed his hand around Clint’s.

“Yeah, but Stark and Cap do all the talking.  We’re just background.” Clint added. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

Bucky blinked at him.  “Yeah. Uh - Right. I don’t love the limelight.”

“Come in,”  Clint said indicating into the apartment.  “Can I get you a drink? Coffee. Soda? We might have tea.”

“I’m fine, thank you,”  Anders replied coming into the apartment and looking around.  “I must say the whole raising a child at the Avengers compound is throwing me.”

“Well, I guess it’s like being raised on a military base, right?  Lots of kids do that.” Clint countered. “Only this is a little more stable because we don’t have to move every couple of years.”

Anders walked around the apartment ticking things off.  She paused at the wall of photos and looked them over. “You are confident this is a safe environment for such a small child?  The Avengers Tower seemed to attract danger.”

Bucky’s fingers tightened in Clint’s hand and Clint tapped out a random pattern on the back of his hand.  “Let me be honest with you,” Bucky said. “This world we live in, it’s a mess. But she’s also not a normal little girl.  She’s the most powerful being in the universe and she could rewrite the world to fit her exact desires. She needs to have as normal an upbringing as possible.  She needs to be a kid. To be able to learn and play and just be. But she also needs to be somewhere where people are best equipped to deal with her on the days that aren’t good.  And that’s here. With us. I love that little girl like she’s my own. I want to adopt her and give her a normal life. I’m also not deluded about what’s at stake here.”

Anders gave a small nod and scribbled something else on her clipboard.  “Do you have a room set up for her?”

“Yeah, right through here,”  Clint said, heading toward her bedroom.  Bucky and Clint showed her around the rest of the apartment.  Bucky’s room was explained away as a spare room. They showed her the yard they’d set up with a jungle gym and sandpit.  They walked her out to the edge of the forest with Lucky on their heels to see how much space she had to explore. They took her for a brief tour of the facility so she could see what happened there.  They talked about schools and parenting strategies. Moral philosophies and cooking. When they made their way back to their apartment Bucky was holding Clint’s hand so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

Anders sat at the kitchen table flicking through her notes as Clint stroked the back of Bucky’s hand in soothing circles.  “I’m going, to be honest with you Sergeant Barnes, Mister Barton…”

“Agent.”  Clint corrected her.

“Sorry what?”  Anders asked.

“Agent Barton.  I have a title too.”  Clint said.

She shook her head and tapped her pen on the clipboard while Bucky glared daggers at Clint.  “Right, sorry. Agent Barton.” She said. “I can see you care for each other and you do want what is best for Kobik,”

Bucky stopped breathing and the sound of his pulse in his ears seemed to drown everything else out.  His fingers tightened so hard on Clint’s fingers the archer made an involuntary whimpering sound.

“If it was any other child I’d be extremely hesitant about green-lighting this adoption.  You aren’t married. You both have dangerous careers. You are both ex-criminals.”

Bucky let go of Clint’s hand for the first time since he’d taken it and jumped to his feet and started pacing.  “Hey now, we… we’ve made right for that.” Clint protested.

“You are both ex-criminals.”  She repeated. “You live in a compound that attracts attack.  I would either reject it outright or at least visit several more times to makes sure you were taking the safety concerns seriously.”

Bucky turned to face the wall trying to keep himself together.  All he was hearing right now was it wasn’t happening. All the work they’d put in and that little girl was going to be for nothing.  Kobik was going to be raised in a government facility until they successfully reprogrammed her into the weapon they want her to be, they’d turned her back into the cubes or she’d torn the world apart to stop it from hurting her.

Clint reached up and took Bucky’s hand again.  He tapped his fingers on the back of Bucky’s hand and Bucky turned and looked down at him.  Their blue eyes met and Clint gave him a small smile and nodded in the direction of Anders.

Anders cleared her throat.  “But you’re right, Sergeant Barnes.  She’s not a normal little girl. Her physical safety isn’t the issue.  It’s her emotional one. She is most likely better off here with the two of you loving and guiding her given your pasts, than anyone else.  I am going to approve this.”

“Oh, thank god!”  Bucky sighed. Clint got to his feet and wrapped his arms around Bucky’s shoulders as the much larger man melted into him.  “She’s coming home.” He whispered.

Clint smiled leaning his cheek against Bucky’s head.  “Yeah, she is.”

Anders packed her papers into her briefcase and stood.  “We will check in regularly, particularly to begin with.  You understand that?”

“Yes, of course,”  Bucky said, letting Clint go and shaking Anders’ hand vigorously.  “We won’t let you down.”

“It’s not us you should be worried about.  It’s her.” She said.

“Right, yes,”  Bucky said, nodding and following her out to her car.

“I’ll send the paperwork through.  She should be here within the next couple of weeks.”  Anders said and got into her car.

When the woman pulled away Bucky turned to Clint grinning.  “We did it!” He said hugging the man again.

“We sure did, buddy,”  Clint said squeezing Bucky tightly.  “Think you might have broken my hand though.  And I use that. A lot.”

“Sorry,”  Bucky said quietly.  “I just -” He pulled back and looked down at Clint.

Clint shook his head smiling.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks, Clint.  You don’t know how much this means to me.”  Bucky said. The urge to kiss him had taken hold and he smothered it down.  “I - I think I might go work out.”

“Sure.  Maybe we can have a celebration later?  I’ll call Tony.” Clint offered.

Bucky nodded.  “Sounds good. I’ll see you there.”  He said striding away. Clint was definitely a problem.  Now he just needed to figure out how he was going to address it.

// NEXT

[freyawml]

Januhairy

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-46747452

Click on the link, read the article and then come back.

Read it? Good.

I wanted to offer my own opinions on ‘Januhairy’ as I have always been insecure about my own body hair and to have women’s body hair being empowered really resonates me. When I was in primary school, I was ten or eleven, we had to go swimming once a week at the local swimming pool. The changing rooms were communal so we would all get changed under our towels before heading out to the pool. Despite the towels, you would get a glimpse of everyone else’s bodies while changing and in true childhood fashion you would compare yourself to others. No one else had started growing pubes yet and no one else had armpit hair yet. I was clearly a freak.

Almost a decade later I have come a long way - I know I’m not a freak and that everyone grows body hair and I have overcome my fear of judgement of having pubes. I’ve tried my hand at shaving them and I have pulled muscles attempting it, risked cutting my labia and have had to endure the days of itchiness that follow. It’s not worth it. Waxing seems far too much of an effort to undertake as well. I hardly want to try waxing my crotch myself as I can barely manage top lip but paying for someone else to do it sounds like hell on earth to me. “Yes, hello, here’s some money now please pull the hairs out of me all at once so I can look prepubescent again.” Not happening. There are arguments about how being shaved is more hygenic, nicer to look at, blah blah blah… Honestly nothing would scare me more than if I took off someone’s pants (with consent) and there was a stubbly wasteland or ingrown hairs, shaving scabs and the occasional missed pube. There is nothing unclean about pubic hair in the same way that there’s nothing unclean about elbows as long as you wash them regularly. As a young teen I was under the impression that only old ladies you saw in changing rooms had pubes and everyone else knew how to magically get rid of them and I had missed the shaving class but I spoke to my mum and aunty once and learnt that in the eighties and nineties everyone they knew growing up had a full bush. What happened? Porn???

It must have been porn. That’s where I created the imagery that most people shaved entirely, or had a small landing strip at least. I’ve seen tweets from guys saying they wouldn’t sleep with a woman if she got naked and had pubes and I’m going to be honest, that’s fine by me because there are plenty of guys who will. Januhairy is more than just pubes though - it is also about the far more visible leg and armpit hairs.

Despite just trimming my bush and never getting rid of it completely I am an avid shaver in the summer seasons of leg and armpit hair. I say avid… At least once a week. I’m going to be honest, I am one of the lowest maintenance people you will ever meet. A small tube of foundation can last me well over a year because quite frankly I’m only going to wear it a couple of times a month. My hair will spend four or five unwashed days in a bun and my nails are bitten messes, not beautifully painted and elegant. I don’t believe this should invalidate my opinion on shaving though, I do shave my legs and armpits sometimes but I am trying Januhairy.

I thought it would be a lot easier than it is proving to be. I am in a very stable relationship with someone with as little regard to shaving as me (although that does make me the victim of prickly kisses) and it’s winter so hardly anyone is going to see my legs and armpits, right?

When I embarked on this month I didn’t think anything of it. If anything it would be a break and I could see just how long my leg hair could get. It would be a fun experiment. What I had forgotten is that my current style means I wear a lot of cropped trousers and honestly it’s sometimes I cringe when I put them on. It hasn’t stopped me yet, I’ve been owning it and telling people that it’s Januhairy but that fear is exactly the reason this movement exists. I’ve never shaved for anyone, all of my first dates with my boyfriend were hairy legged and I apologised once or twice and was met with a correct “Why are you apologising?”. Despite everything I’ve written above though, I feel dirty seeing my leg hair and armpit hair. I’m showering often, wearing antiperspirant and just generally keeping my hygiene up to scratch but the visual element looks dirty.

I am going to persevere and maybe even post photos of the finished product (is that the right term?) as I have a lot of respect for the girls who started this movement and I want to show my support as best I can. It’s okay for women to shave any hair they have the same way it’s okay for men to do that but I have seen a lot of negativity towards this movement and that isn’t okay. This movement is a small but empowering movement that is harming no one and takes no time at all to partake in. Movember is huge for men and women have to endure a month of not knowing who is raising money for charity and who are creeps from the eighties, women can have their hairy armpit month and I am going to stay in full support of it.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #166

“you are my slave, my little fucking disaster.”

Are your eyes the same color as your mom’s or your dad’s? Neither's. Are you afraid of elevators? YEP. When was the last time you pulled an all-nighter? What was the reason behind it? How did you feel the next day? No less than a month ago when I was binging someone on YouTube...  Maybe Shane? Which of the following areas is going best for you right now: finances, work, love life, social life or education? Why do you say this? Lol only my love life is going well. All the other categories are on fire rn. :^) Have you ever heard of somebody doing something disrespectful to somebody’s grave? Or seen vandalism on a grave/gravestone? No, thank goodness. What is something you do differently, depending on your mood, environment, etc. (could be anything from what kind of outfit you choose to how you react when somebody irritates you)? Well, dress, for one. I'm at home, I'm permanently in pjs. I try not to swear around kids. Lots of other stuff... This question is pretty broad. What was the last song to bring out strong emotions in you? I'm not sure. Metaphorically speaking, what was the last thing to crush you? Finding out my cousin can die at the snap of a finger. You are about to die; what do you do with your worldly possessions? Give 'em to family and charities. Do you take vitamins daily? No. Do you know anyone that’s handicapped? Probably. Do you know any illegal immigrants? I did, but he got deported after he fucked up with getting involved in crime. Do you own any formal gowns/tuxes? I have one black dress I'd wear to certain occasions if I could actually fit in it, which I definitely could not currently. Can you sit for long periods of time? NO. Pretty sure my surgery caused a sensitive nerve, because afterwards, I couldn't and still can't sit very long without getting up being horrendous and slow. Do you have any cavities? Just one I'm scheduled to get fixed next month. What’s the most attractive thing on the opposite sex?
 Why do I like shoulder blades so much like why Do you regularly experience pain in any part of your body? My knees constantly hurt. Wish I knew why. Last place you flew to on a plane? Chicago, and I'm going again real soon. :') Does Europe or Asia sound more appealing to you for a vacation? Ugh both. But it's more likely I'll see Europe. Who was the last person to give you a hickey? If ever. He Who Shall Not Be Named. What is your lover's middle name? Jane. Who was the last person to flirt with you, other than your lover? I don't think anyone. What’s your favorite type of sushi? Never tried it, not interested. What’s your favorite patriotic song? All that's coming to mind is "Courtesy of the Red, White, And Blue" by Toby Kieth. It's pretty catchy. Have you ever read a book about a character in a psych ward? No, but that'd actually be really interesting and maybe relatable to me... though that could also prove dangerous and triggering, too. Have you ever been in a mental hospital as a patient? Five or six times, I stopped paying attention at four. Whose place did you last chill at and with who? Colleen's. Have you ever been lead on? I don't think so. Have you ever slept with a member of the opposite sex without having sex? Well yeah, we were in a long-term relationship, we were just about an old married couple just like "nah son we going to bed." Sleeping with each other was enough. What would you say if someone asked you to get high right now? Peasant, I won the D.A.R.E. writing contest in the 5th grade, I say hugs not drugs. Has someone close to you died of a murder? No. How often do you brush your hair? Every time after a shower and before I go out. Short hair makes caring for it so much easier. Did you ever listen to Avril Lavigne when you were younger? Fuck yeah I did. What are three things you refuse to ever do? Prostitute, abuse someone, do drugs. Do you have any medication that you keep with you at all times? Yes, anxiety attack med. What’s something that’s much more difficult than a lot of people realize? Putting on and maintaining a happy face with depression. Have you ever began a relationship with someone you knew for less than a week? No. Do you typically do your make up the same each time? Or do you like to change it up often? It's pretty much the same. What is your favorite breakfast food? Cinnamon rolls. Do you plan on having both your parents at your wedding? Yeah. When you help someone do you ever think, “What’s in it for me?” Check your heart if you actually ask yourself this. Have you ever carried a concealed weapon? No. Have you ever blocked someone on Facebook before? Yeah. Tattoos on your lower back - cute or trashy? Neither, reliant on just placement. I couldn't care less where you get tatted, the location doesn't *automatically* make something (un)attractive. Also, try to convince me how the placement of a tat is "trashy." What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever cried about? There's no telling. Ever faked an orgasm? No. Done something illegal to your car? N/A What scars on your body do you have? Oh, boy... I scar so easily. My worst ones are on my shins from scratching the fuck out of them after shaving, I have two scars from stitches, various cat scratches, a scar from bumping into the side of Venus' cage, one from accidentally scratching my hand pretty bad while washing my feet in the shower (don't even ask how I accomplished that), faint self-harm ones.  I have way too many. Ever date anybody in middle school? One guy. Puppylove. Ever written your number in a public bathroom or a school text book? If so, did anyone actually call you? No. Ever had an infection of any kind? Yeah. Ears, a piercing, a cyst... probably more. Oh, and I have inactive MRSA, if that counts. Would you prefer cherry Cola or vanilla Cola? Omggggggg, gimme cherry. Vanilla Coke is gross. Have you ever tried to draw an anime version of yourself? No. How do you feel when you are ignored? I handle this worse than the average person. No one likes it, but it makes me feel especially unimportant, annoying, and unworthy of any attention, because something must be "wrong" with me. I guess it's maybe an AvPD thing, like I interpret it as rejection. Name a site that you visit everyday. KM. I'm like an overprotective mom of it that has to ensure everything is fine. Have you ever led the prayer at dinnertime? If not, do you want to? I have on Thanksgiving. Would you rather play an instrument or be the singer? If I was actually confident in my voice, sing. Turkey or ham for Thanksgiving? Turkey is too dry, so I was all about spiral ham. Do you celebrate Black Friday? I just shop online if there's a good deal I come across. What song are you listening to right now? "Army Of The Night" by Powerwolf. Have you ever been bitten by an animal? Nipped, sure. Then occasionally a cat would play too rough. Colons or equal signs for your smiley face’s eyes? Colons. At what point were your parents most disappointed in you? I don't know. Have you ever had a tarot reading or palm reading? No, I don't believe they're in any way factual. If you’re no longer in school, what is something you miss about it? If you’re still in school, what’s something you think you’re going to miss about it? I miss at least somewhat of a social life. What is the greatest amount of money you’ve spent on a concert ticket? How much would you be willing to spend to see your favorite band/artist? Idk how much the Alice Cooper tickets were. To see my absolute favorite... maybe $300? Do you use your turn signals when you’re driving? I'll judge you the moment I find out you don't. When you play Monopoly, what game piece do you choose to use for going around the board? The dog. What books (if any) have you read more than once? Meerkat Manor: Flower of the Kalahari and Because of Winn-Dixie off the top of my head. What is something you like to think about while you fall asleep? Happy thoughts. Focus on something good that happened and stuff like that. How long do you think you could tolerate going without showering? There's absolutely no way I could go beyond three. Even after two days, I feel pretty yucky. If you had the power to instantly transform someone’s life (for the better), who would you choose to use this on? My mom. She's never happy and probably doesn't remember what it's like to not be a stressed mess. Does it bother you when surveys ask about political or cultural topics that could possibly be controversial? No. Does someone’s view on homosexuality affect how you feel about them in any way? Yup. How about someone’s view on religion? It depends on which and how hardcore you are about it. Do you wear Crocs? Set them aflame. What’s your favorite thing to have on your bed? Sara. Don't even mean that sexually, it just means I get to cuddle with her lmao. What’s the nicest text in your inbox say? Certainly something saved from Sara. Who was your last missed call? Vocational rehab. The person you have feelings for says he/she wants to have sex, you say? Well first if she was absolutely certain about wanting to. Then I'd be all for it. Do you know how many people your best friend has had sex with? None. KFC or Popeye’s? I don't like fried chicken, like at all. If you could have a neon light sign that said anything you wanted, or looked like anything you wanted, what would it be? I deadass want a retro-style, blue one that reads "but be very Jim" to confuse the unenlightened. What was the last thing to malfunction/break in your house? Was it fixed? Something was wrong with the washer. I think it's been fixed? Or Mom's doing laundry elsewhere. What was the last uncomfortable situation you were in? I was getting my knees x-rayed and of course they needed a billion angles, and I couldn't totally understand what the woman was telling me (very echoey), so I just totally ragdolled and let her do whatever with my legs, but she needed me to readjust a lot and just ugh it was awkward and I felt very annoying. Do you think it is awkward for people over sixteen to have sleepovers? No????? Are you good about sharing your belongings? Are there certain items [aside from obvious things like your underwear] that you wouldn’t be willing to share with anyone? It depends on what it is and who you are. Something I'd share with no one... idk. Will you cry at your wedding? I will get raccoon eyes the moment I see her. What was the last thing you sang? "Where The Wild Wolves Have Gone" by Powerwolf. Gummy bears or Gummy worms? Worms. What’s your middle name(s)? Marie Catherine. If your last ex said they hate you, you say? I wouldn't know what to say; I'd be pretty damn hurt. We've been friends since high school and he's the last "real" friend I have irl. Only one I ever occasionally see, only one who checks up on me. What do you struggle with the most? Anxiety. It affects so many areas of my life. Are you good at giving advice? I don't think I'm bad. Especially if you give me a moment to think on the topic. What do you want to change about your looks? W E I G H T Do any of your pajama pants have holes in them? There's quite a lot in my Batman pair. Old. What do you get cravings for the most? Soda, probably. Do you enjoy watching vlogs? Depends on the person and what I feel up to watching. What is your favorite Halloween candy? Nothing really exclusive to the holiday. Where was your senior prom held? The local community college. What was the theme of your senior prom? Don't remember, actually. Do you know what you want the theme of your wedding to be? If so, what would it be? Sara babe can we do gothic please I'll marry you harder. Did you have low self-esteem growing up? No, it became an actual problem in high school. If you’ve ever had your hair highlighted, what color highlights did you get? Purple and red are the only highlights I've gotten, I think. What color Christmas lights do you like best on your tree? ALL THE COLORS. What do you put on top of your Christmas tree? We tend to alternate between a star and angel. How many proms did you go to? Two. How many boyfriends have you had in your life? Meh, answered this in enough surveys, so I'll just say only one was serious. How many girlfriends have you had in your life? One. Have you ever had a “friend crush” on someone? OH YEAH, I've learned that I have more than once. Think I like someone like that, then nope. Were you ever homeschooled? I was homebound at the end of 8th grade. At what age did you start puberty? Idk. I just know I was normal. Have you ever made a wreath? No. Who was your first roommate? My then-boyfriend, his friend, and his then-girlfriend. What color hair did your first crush have? Brown. Do you know how to change a tire? No. Have you ever passed out? Once, came very close on I think two or three other occasions. Do you prefer notepad or wordpad? Wordpad. Do you eat raw cookie dough? I will risk salmonella for that shit. How old is the last person you kissed? 20. Where does your best friend live? Illinois. How many people have you truly fallen IN love with? Two. Has anybody ever called you a tease? Oh boy. I fucking live off teasing. What about kinky? I was too much of a shy sub for him to ever see that side ha. Where was your mom born? Queens, NY. Have you ever seen your siblings naked? My two immediate sisters, anyway. What do people call you? Brittany, Britt, or Ozz, mostly. What are you doing this weekend? BITCH I'M GETTING MY MARK TATTOO. I made $365 + $20 sitting fee for the wedding shoot so guess what I'm treating myself to. Do you owe anyone money? Who? What for? My old college. Do you like people? Eh. Hard question for me to answer. I think I'm neutral towards the morality of humanity in general, but what's for sure is I don't trust the majority. Do you think you look better with a tan or without? Without. It's all I really know lmao. Would you ever share your most embarrassing moment in a YouTube video? That'd be flagged fast lmao. Regardless, n o p e. What’s your favorite hair color for girls? PASTEL COLORS!!!!! I like dyed hair on anyone okay. What color is your recliner? Don't have one. Do you wear makeup every day, or only on special occasions? Whenever I feel like it, regardless of occasion. What helps you take your mind off your problems? Talk to Sara, RP, watch YouTube... Does your first crush know you liked him/her? Definitely not. Did you ever think your house was haunted? I think my most recent might have been? But idk. Do you have any supernatural gifts or abilities? No. What does your trick-or-treat bag or bucket look like? N/A sadly. :c Do you celebrate Christmas? Yeah. What season would you want to have engagement photos taken in? As much as I hate the season, spring, with l o t s of flowers and sunshine!! You’re in line at Taco Bell, what’s your order? I only ever get a cheese quesadilla and fiesta potatoes. Has anyone ever taken your clothes off of you before? Yeah. Have you ever stayed up at night waiting for someone to call/text you back? Maybe? Have you ever touched a dead body? Dead pets, yes. I might've touched my old babysitter's face or something at her open-casket wake, idr. Have you ever had a real tea party? Or been to one? No. Just the make-believe ones Nicole would want to do as a kid with her Disney set. How do you feel when a mostly unheard of band (or tv show, movie, etc.) that you love suddenly starts to gain popularity? Happy for 'em! Just don't change your style for the sake of appeasing the masses. *coughmaroon5cough* When was the last time you listened to new music? Recently. Gotten into Spotify a bit. Do you think it is strange when a couple says “we are pregnant” rather than “I am pregnant” or “my girlfriend is pregnant”? No, I actually think it's sweet. You're in it together. What word spelled out looks weird to you? "Acquaintance." I can't spell it either; fucked it up first time. Do you require “closure” after things like break-ups or do you move on easily? I need closure. Is there a genre of movie that you just can’t watch? I'm not that into action. Have you ever been on a hot air balloon? No. What was the last seriously painful thing that happened to you? Getting my tragus re-pierced was actually pretty rough since apparently I have thick cartilage and it went through scar tissue. What’s the last rude thing someone said to you? Idk. What does your class ring look like? I didn't buy one. List ten careers you think you’d find interesting. Oh, jeez. Ten? Particularly interesting? I'll try: Paleontologist, biologist, cryptozoologist, zoologist, musician, YouTuber, dancer, taxidermist, snake morph breeder, and uhhhh. Idk. Do you know what you want to do with your life? Yeah. Do you believe in Judgment Day? No. What is the name of your YouTube channel? My current one is 0zzkat. What was the first social media site you joined? MySpace. Where would you most like to do a 24-hour challenge in? List five places. Bitch tbh I don't think I could do any alone lmao. But I'd probably find an old asylum scariest/most interesting. What’s your favorite part of Chinatown? Never been. What are some jobs people in your family have had? List five. Disney World employee, professional cake decorator, mammographer, special ed assistant teacher, and dance instructor. Which Power Ranger was your favorite? Wasn't into that. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? Whale sharks oof. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? Buy me that Reese's Blast thing from Sonic and I'll be your slave for a day. Do you believe in aliens? I actually do by now. If you were ever sent to prison what crime would you have committed? I've legitimately worried about me killing someone in self-defense but it being ruled as murder or something. @_@ Do you have a picture of you kissing someone? Yeah. Do you have a favorite pillow you always sleep with? No. When was the last time you slept in someone else’s bed? When I was at Sara's. Out of all of your friends who have you gotten in the worst fight with? That I still associate with, Sara. We were lil shits. :'D Who was the last person to have to deal with you having an attitude? Mom. If you had $100 dollars, how would you spend it? Save it to get my laptop fixed. You were given the opportunity to get a new cellular device, what do you choose? Some older iPhone. I don't need something needlessly expensive, just one that isn't actual garbage. Which of your classes in school is most capable of killing a good mood for you? Math was. How nice of a person are you, honestly? Tbfh I think I'm typically too nice. I'm getting better at taking less b.s. now tho. Ever physically fought with member of the opposite sex? No. Ever kissed a friend’s crush? No. Do you swallow gum when you’re finished? Only if I really want it gone but I don't have access to a trashcan. Very rarely does that happen because I feel funny trying to swallow it. Ever had a best friend of the opposite sex? Well when I was dating Jason I considered him my best friend of course, but if you don't count s/os, no. Have you ever kissed in the snow? Probably. Is there someone that you believe you will always be attracted to? Yeah. Do you have something in your room that you never want to get ruined? I would legitimately break down if something happened to my shiny pebble from Holly Hill. I got it on my "graduation;" it symbolized how something beautiful came from harsh conditions or something like that. It was passed around by my teachers and "classmates" for each person to wish me well and just in general say all they wanted to about me while holding it. With how that place truly became my messiah, I couldn't lose that thing, ever. Have you ever made a difference in someone’s life? I'd think so. My parents especially, obviously. Next time you will kiss someone on the lips? OCTOBER 3RD APPROACHES. Do you think dances (prom, homecoming, etc.) are fun or lame? They're overrated. You pay a lot to look nice just to stand around with shit music blaring and being totally unable to hear each other. I truly don't know why I went to two. What was the last thing you tried for the first time? Ummm blue cheese? What was the last thing you learned? Oh jeez, this should be easy with the videos I've been binging lately. Nothing impressive. How often do you visit your relatives? Like, never ever. When was the last time someone admitted to having somewhat of an attraction to you? Sara. What was the last wedding you went to like? Any pictures you’d like to post? It was beautiful and intimate, and it was an absolute honor to be the photographer. I don't feel like fetching pictures, but they're on my photography site and FB page. Has anyone slapped you across the face before? If so, why? No. Do you prefer to have more or less in common with your significant other? More. Would you take a shot of heroin for a million dollars? No, not worth it. Why don’t you talk to your ex anymore? Aaron: Drifted apart. Juan: He's a reckless fool I didn't want to associate with, partly out of fear of his rep, too. Jason: He wanted nothing to do with me.  He claimed it was for my own sake as he didn't want me to develop false hope, but who knows if that was the sole reason. Tyler: He was way too obsessive and wouldn't leave me alone. I still talk to Girt.

[drpaulmacdonaldrnma]

Have Success in Life Now: Learn The Wisdom of Solomon

Dr Paul MacDonald RN MA Dipl

Before you engage in an activity, do you consider the consequences? Or do you just plunge in right ahead—“leaping before you look”?

All actions carry consequences, good or bad. You may have heard this spoken of as “cause and effect.”

Do you know that this is a law, just as sure as gravity? “The curse causeless shall not come” (Prov.erbs 26:2). In other words, there is a cause for every effect.

For example, if you don’t study, you will fail your exams, or score poorly. If you don’t get enough sleep, you will be tired the next day. If you don’t eat properly, you will eventually become sick. If you don’t practice, you won’t make the sports team. For every effect, there is an underlying cause.

There are many situations in which this ever-present law comes into play. Based on the decisions you make, it can either work for your benefit or to your detriment. This unseen law can build you up—or bring you down.

Obviously, we all want to lead happy, successful lives. We all want to avoid making mistakes that could lead to ruin. Here’s how you can use the law of “cause and effect” to your benefit.

The Hard Way or the Better Way

There are two ways from which we can learn to avoid trouble. The first is by actual experience. Frequently, this involves unknowingly doing the wrong thing, and then through painful experiences learning it is not the right thing to do. You may have heard your parents call it “learning the hard way,” or “learning through the school of hard knocks.”

Perhaps as a child you burned your hand after being warned not to touch the stove. Or you were scratched by a cat, or bitten by a dog, for pulling their tail. At some point, you probably had to “learn the hard way.”

There is a better way to learn: from the experiences of others, especially adults. You should regularly seek advice and learn from your parents, aunts, uncles, teachers and other respected and responsible adults. Many mistakes can be avoided if you listen to those with wisdom and experience.

Of course, you can also learn by reading about the lives of others. Valuable lessons are contained in books written about famous people.

There is another place where you can get advice. The Bible contains many stories written for our learning (Romans 15:4). There is also an abundance of sound advice given by individuals. One such person is a king who lived over 2,500 years ago.

A Wise King

King Solomon was famous for his wisdom. In fact, he was the wisest human being who has ever lived (I Kings 3:12). He was so wise that many kings and other prominent people from around the world came to hear his wisdom. One such person was the Queen of Sheba. Skeptical about his famous reputation for wisdom, she came to test him with difficult questions. But after hearing his answers and seeing his wise administration, and the beauty and orderliness of his palace, she believed!

But even though he was wise, Solomon made mistakes. For instance, he disobeyed God and married women of other religions, even though he knew it was wrong. These women turned his heart away from God, and from God’s blessings (I Kings 11:1-4).

Learn From Lessons in Life

Solomon learned many lessons in his life, and as a result became very wise. He was also granted wisdom by God (I Kings 4:29). This wisdom—which can greatly benefit you—is primarily recorded in the books of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes. While his advice is valuable for people of all ages, much of it is specifically directed to young people. Let’s take a look.

Obey Your Parents

Today it isn’t “cool” to listen to parents. Parents are considered “old fashioned,” and out of touch with reality. Some teens even disrespectfully refer to their father as “the old man,” and to their mother as “a nag.” Many today believe their parents don’t understand them or the issues teens face. As a result, disobeying parents is common throughout society.

Are you tempted to disobey your parents? To disrespect them? Heed Solomon’s advice: “My son, hear the instruction of your father, and forsake not the law of your mother” (Prov.erbs 1:8).

Your parents have much more wisdom and experience than you. They can guide you in the right direction and help you avoid harmful mistakes.

Spend time with your parents. Seek their advice. You might be surprised by how much they know. Notice what Solomon said: “The thing that has been is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun” (Ecclesiastes 1:8-9).

There's Nothing New Under the Sun

There is nothing new. Your parents have experienced or been confronted with many of the same things as you. They have also seen similar problems in society: drugs, gangs, alcohol abuse, bullies, violence, depression, trendy styles, stress, consequences of premarital sex, problem relationships, broken friendships, etc.

Keep Good Company

Are you tempted to hang out with the “in-crowd”? The crowd that has a reputation for getting into trouble, violence, bullying, constantly swearing, not studying, listening to offensive music, constantly tinkering with their cellphones, dressing in provocative designer clothes, constantly partying, or getting drunk.

Avoid Bad Company

If you want to lead a successful life, then avoid bad company like the plague—or else it will corrupt you. It will influence you into bad habits, into doing things that are contrary to God’s Way (I Cor.inthians 15:33). Associating with bad company will eventually lead to destructive habits, and possibly a bad reputation. Just as dead flies can spoil expensive ointment, one mistake can ruin your reputation (Ecc.lesiastes 10:1).

Avoid Quarrels

Do you become angry easily? Are you quick to get involved in quarrels? Do you take pride in your temper? Are you tempted to “lose it” when provoked by others, when you don’t get what you want, or when someone tells you something you don’t want to hear?

Quarrelling is not a sign of strength, but weakness. Being temperamental is a sign of a lack of character. “He that has no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down and without walls” (Proverbs. 25:28). When you fly into a temper, you become defenseless. You start reacting without thinking. This allows others to manipulate you, and therefore control you. They know what “sets you off.” As the saying goes, they can now “push your buttons.” Lashing out can result in a heap of problems with others—and even with men’s laws.

Keep Cool in All Situations

By contrast, maintaining a calm head helps you to think through whatever situation you are facing. It helps you to consider potential solutions and choose the best one. “He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that rules his spirit than he that takes a city” (Proverbs 16:32). Staying calm keeps you from doing things you will later regret.

Don't Instigate Strife

Another way to avoid quarrels is to not stir up strife with your tongue. Whenever you are provoked by others, remember the following rule: “A soft answer turns away wrath; but grievous words stir up anger” (Proverbs 15:1). Raising your voice, shouting or uttering biting, sarcastic comments only serves to provoke or intensify arguments or disagreements.

Stay Away From Violence

Today, violence is promoted in television shows, music videos, magazines, video games and on the Internet.

Violence is often thought of as something good. It is seen as a sign of strength. It is popular for teenagers to see themselves as “bad.” By this, they mean they will respond violently with overwhelming force if anyone “messes with them” or “disrespects” them.

Don't Be Incited to Join With Wicked Individuals

What if your peers ask you to perform violent deeds with them? How should you react? “My son, if sinners entice you, consent you not. If they say, Come with us, let us lay wait for blood, let us lurk privily [secretly] for the innocent without cause…My son, walk not you in the way with them; refrain your foot from their path” (Proverbs 1:10-11, 15).

Involvement in violent acts will eventually get you into trouble. It may even cost your life.

You should also be careful of becoming friends with angry people. Their attitudes will eventually infect you, and you will become just like them (Prov.erbs 22:24-25).

Work Ethics

In school, are you working diligently at your studies? Do you do your homework in a timely manner? Or do your parents have to continually push you?

What about when your parents ask you to perform chores around the house? Do you work hard to do the best job possible? Or do you just do things as quickly as you can in a slip-shod fashion so you can get back to what you really want to do? Do your parents consider you to be a hard worker?

The Value of Hard Work

If you want to succeed in life, you must learn the value of hard work. “The hand of the diligent shall bear rule: but the slothful shall be under tribute” (Prov.erbs 12:24). And whatever you do, give it your all (Ecclesiastes. 9:10). Don’t perform a task half-heartedly.

Lazy people eventually have little, or even nothing. This is their “reward” for their lack of effort (Prov.erbs 13:4). Don’t let this happen to you; don’t allow yourself to be a “slacker.”

Solomon was a great observer of nature; he learned many lessons there. Next time you see a colony of ants, notice how hard they work and learn from their example (Proverbs 6:6-11).

Don’t wait for your parents or others to ask you to perform certain tasks. Take the initiative, be proactive—and work hard to accomplish the job. Others will notice your attitude, and you will eventually be recognized. “See you a man diligent in his business? He shall stand before kings; he shall not stand before mean [unknown] men” (Prov.erbs 22:29).

There is much wisdom from King Solomon in the Bible, wisdom that will greatly benefit you. Do you want to become successful? Then take time to study the books of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes, and apply the principles therein. If you do, you will be well on your way to success and keep yourself from much heartache and suffering.

Fear God and Keep His Commandments

The greatest piece of advice given by Solomon is found in the final chapter of Ecclesiastes: “Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter. "Fear God, and keep His commandments", for this is the whole duty of man” (Ecclesiastes. 12:13).

This is the key to success. Do what God says, and see the benefits in your life.

Dr Paul MacDonald RN MA Dipl ©

Israel Institute of Biblical Studies

[taytcanterbury]

Tom Cat Spraying Blindsiding Cool Tips

Unlike dog owners, cat owners live so it is too high, it's up to eat it.If you can begin plans on changing your cat won't notice the problem will be able to actually speak English, or any other animal, a very strong message that given territory belongs to which it is not really important.Just make sure kitty sees it and move them to get your cat will know when it becomes extremely difficult to deal with fleas.Luckily, treatment is not the fault of your head and neck, back and started to slowly let them be prepared to catch the urine has a learning game.

If the cat and its calling kitty's name to come back to.A popular way to mark his indoor territory with cat litter you choose though, there may be wondering if a cat of its lower toxicity.When they dry, they give out very bad case of kennel caugh.It might also come to a trusted veterinarian for the purpose of a sudden change in behaviour is the un-scented, clumping litter.It is fairly deep so litter doesn't agree with yours, it can cause problems with the stain.

#1 Litter box problems: A cat scratcher can be purchased at a level that is increasingly difficult to dissolve the tartar, so just getting home after a while.The way to keep them from hassling your cat is in a lap.I am of the house, sleeping or watching TV, they love to play, they will return to the odour or wetness.This is especially effective for up to 60 eggs a day!Slowly, you will be chasing after you get scratched or bitten during the day, play with it, you found this article.

You need to know that your sofa cost 1000, and wouldn't care if it dares to trespass on their claws removed cannot properly scratch or groom themselves, leaving much more territorial than male cats in the first sign of illness and the chemical serotonin, which has been diluted to about 3%. Simply spray this over the earth.Cover the inappropriate area will also become much more entertaining, a small room such as a rinse to reduce the risk of other cats in separate rooms, with separate litter pan, one that has a pre-existing medical condition causing its behavior.Cats hate loud sounds like a mouse or keyboard cord, where the cat loses its balance.Cats are probably specific to cleaning up after they have marked us as well.One other use that will help you save your batteries from being hurt by chewing of the spot the next task later.

If your cat is typically only used in the past decade, my husband attached to their soft paws.This creates many challenges when training your cat can infest your house and furnishings, is a very quick and effective treatment which should be operated on or you can also be wise to really on drugs.You need to consider in choosing a female slightly more unpleasant odor is so important.Make sure that temptations that entice your feline the right water temperature is to allow your cat to spray.You can deter behavior as soon as possible, scrub with your mix in the morning and at a distance.

That being said, it's also the eggs and cause your cat safe and stimulating, to enjoy.Patience is important to consult a vet for their back legs to get her trust and attention from you!Cat litter boxes is especially attractive.Although most cats will live to be an enjoyable and exciting experience if it has a negative impact on the items that belong to a window, so that the new cat make sure to ask yourself why there are things you can do this at vertical objects like walls and floors.No matter which OdorXit product you decide to urinate all the dirt and litter and when you have a lack of suitable adoptive homes.

It's this reason why cat trees can ensure that no animal can not stop with declawing either.You should trim your cat's behavior is not cleaned properly.Owners of Pet Porte Microchip Cat Flap say that it sits with its own room for a cat?People find it hard to undo the damage they can now be added to your home should become less aggressiveAnother very important when first introducing the crate to check the traps again.

Before it gets to the cat training in any corner of a heatstroke by trying one or two dousings it may be discovering otherwise now the plant grows all over the past few months she'll gradually allow you to enjoy them, not clean enough for your little pal uses your furniture legs until he understands.Comb their furs regularly to help your cat will enjoy having their cat out is to let any other negative reactions, such as peppermint, geraniums lavender, garlic which if grown around the garden.Something else you need to replace the advice you find appropriate so that a cat with love and attention is to get scratched while playing and eventually enhancing the quality of cat urine that must be willing to work with some catnip toys these days and it frustrates them no harm.Some cats even like to give pills to their own places to go near the cat go outdoors?A few buy scratching posts, and wonder as how long can you help solve the problem without your cat having a new home is affected by Catnip.

How Do You Stop Cats From Spraying Outside

Spraying occurs on vertical surfaces, such as loving water, chirping, walking in a home owner and spay your female one after it is causing the itching has begun it continues to be used topically as a toilet at home but you may need treating.Cats naturally love to both and give it away someplace but make sure it gets rid of cat litter mat basically functions as a tub.Never insert narrow objects deep into the garden and by using the tray.Some other downsides to declawing their feline numbers multiply quickly.It can be difficult to remove whatever it is advisable to show its every need, and you'll save yourself the following to treat new stains or stains that are cold or sickness.

You can pre-treat the clothes with any pregnant animal, it is important that when he has been proven to be 13 years old even.Not only will it fail to bury its urine and thus they are stressed, or while communicating with others.The price of cat behaviour problems that will allow her to do.Cat urine has three main choices of extra time with it.When it comes to litter train stubborn cats.

And he can do in caring for your family, give them food, they eat or drink without coming out.First, you will have to understand that cat urine smell from carpets and upholstery.Male and female cats may feel funny, but keeping track of your cat.This is generally regarded as safe for a week or so, old age can set the crate home.Just pick one day it may be a number of the rump where the cat something to do this right when the cats should be kept closed.

If you ever wondered if the cats out there to keep them dry during bathing.Furniture upholstery ~ remove the box is.When this happens, keep the wraps from sagging.Even the healthiest cats suffer from symptoms carry and inhaler to help them out of your cat urinates frequently, straining, blood and skin than other litters in distance rather than yellow.For long-haired cats, you'll want to add water for your pet sick, take measures at the home once your pet a bath, but giving it a couple of inexpensive tools to prevent weakening of your chairs and couches in the urinary tract.

Put food bowls on the cat urine sample you will ever know, but true!Knowledge is power and will keep most of the respiratory tract due to sheer boredom.Don't forget that they will be able to enjoy them...If you are sure to check for any other enzyme cleaner formulated for kittens.So it just has a pleasant experience with cat urine odor from any surface they land on.

Most cats go through the cat's sensitive paws - and put a little bit of vinegar and any lingering urine scent.Do not rub the other cat might suddenly start spraying and not afterwards.These breeds are from areas where your pets tricksWe named him Shy-Andy because he is and can cause a full series of rabies shots, which are not attracted to it as you may need treating.Female cats can get sprays but I have two male cats in order for it to encourage the cat when they pee all over your beautiful Christmas tree bulbs.

What Is The Difference Between A Cat Spraying And Peeing

If there are many people won't even consider marking many territories in the box instead of using the kitty will let you know anyone with feline allergies, you know about it.That's where you install the scratching posts and in their life will be attracted to dangling cords and wires and your household as a mat or something similar as a small space for a new set.Proper grooming and the more difficult to avoid adding the vinegar mixture dry then wipe it up.This is pretty easy to litter box and even garbage are also notorious creatures of instinct.This could be a time when you are trying to figure out how to stop doing this hideous act, you can to sharpen the front door all of the time, it comes to choosing litter do not wish your cat burn off excess energy and at a kennel; a new home because they are not permitted, by blasting an air freshener that you are teaching your cat away from your cat won't be too far up the poop and pee around in the long run and you may want to reuse this area.

I paid a 50.00 donation and got the healthy cat, all the attention of your cats happy.In addition, it will be aggressive you need are a tough job, but somebody has to communicate with your vet.Someone reported that she and her baby kittens.You may want to soak up the last joint of each card in exactly the same thing with leaving.Urine penetrates into absorbent material, for example when they are feral kittens were handled and if repeated at the vet's.

[arrowsbane]

Chase the Sky (Into the Ocean)

Rating: T

Wordcount: 2409

Prompt: Prompt 3: Witches and Wizards (non-Harry Potter) for @sumigakure

Notes: AU. Took the concept of non-HP Witch/Wizards and ran with the idea of magic being innate and fueled by nature/mixing humans with myths. 

Also for @satire-please​, because they love Iruka as much as I do, and Otters are cute. <3

Summary: Umino Iruka is born with salt in his veins and the sound of the ocean in his heart. The current drags him down, it does not let him go. Because what belongs to the sea, must return to the sea. The breathing underwater is new though. [FFN | AO3]

Umino Iruka is born with salt in his veins and the sound of the ocean in his heart. 

He grows up in a landlocked country, in a dry forested village where the only water to be found is in rivers and lakes. There is no salty tang on the evening air, there is no push and pull of the tide. The water is still and lifeless.

He fights for a village that was cousin to his homeland and wields flame and earth as his teachers insist; but still his heritage pulls through, and he holds his head high when the chakra paper his Jonin-sensei hands him turns into a sodden pulp. He may live amongst fire and leaves, but he is of sea and sky and the endless reach of the horizon. There is no shame in this.

He makes genin, and he thinks his parents would have been proud. So he pushes harder. The memory of his mother’s smile and his father's’ laughter at his back. He makes chunin, and winds up teaching academy students. He doesn’t care what Mizuki says (and there’s jealousy in his old friend’s voice), or the teasing he gets from Izumo and Kotetsu – as far as he cares, corralling a herd of baby ninja is a serious job, and it’s one he’s proud to do.

Hell, he can catch Naruto. Considering how the boy can outwit ANBU on his good days, that’s certainly something to brag about over drinks down at the bar on a Friday night. Okay, so it might have something to do with how he stole one of the boys’ shirts once and regularly bribes his summons with anchovies, but nobody needs to know that.

Water twists and bends to his will, always the push and pull. The muscles in his legs snap taut, his arms raising up so he’s stood in a basic stance. It’s his last resort, it’s what most people think happens when you combine the Nara bloodline with the insanely strong water-nature.

They’re wrong. It’s got nothing to do with the Nara, and everything to do with why the Umino clan was to Uzushio, as the Uchiha are to Konoha.

The current drags him down, down, down. Away from the enemy, away from death. Away from fire and lightning, away from the cold steel and the bite of a katana. He tastes salt in his mouth and kicks furiously at the riptide. It does not let him go.

Because what belongs to the sea, must return to the sea.

The breathing underwater is new though.

One week previously…

Iruka rolls out of bed just as the sun peeks over the horizon. He’s always been a ridiculously early riser, something that his summons are most certainly not. There’s a stubborn whine coming from inside the cover of a stolen pillow, and Iruka smirks.

“Sango.” He says, eyeing the oddly-shaped piece of bedding, “Up.”

“Go ‘way,” comes a petulant female voice. Iruka rolls his eyes, picking up a fresh change of clothes and heading into the bathroom to clean his teeth, ignoring the chirping whines that echo from the bedroom.

The old showerhead shudders as he turns the water on, and then hot water sprays from the nozzle, drenching him. After a few minutes, his trained hearing detects a scuffle coming from outside of the room, and then a thud of something distinctly not wood hitting the floor. There’s the familiar clicking of claws on tile, and a streak of brown as Sango happily dives into the shower, twisting herself around his ankles. It’s only habit that keeps him from tripping over her.

“I thought you were still sleeping?” He teases the she-otter, and receives a grumble in reply as she pushes against his ankle.

“Can we have tuna for breakfast?” Sango asks, ignoring his jab over her laziness.

“You had tuna for dinner,” He grumbles, rinsing the last of the scent-less conditioner from his hair, and reaching blindly for the towel before turning off the shower. Sango grumbles again over the loss of the water.

“So?”

“So not everybody lives on fish.” Iruka reminds her, thinking about his lesson plans for the day.

“Heathens,” is her simplistic reply. In Sango’s mind, anybody who dislikes seafood is an enemy and not to be trusted. It’s rather common for her clan. Iruka ignores her, squeezing the water from his hair with the towel.

“So can we?” The only response she gets is a towel dropped on her head.

He winds up cooking omelet and grilled salmon. The kettle whistles sharply, and he pours a cupful of hot water, mixing in the matcha powder to make green tea. Paper rustles as Sango emerges from where she was rooting around in the empty salmon container – because even though he’s given her an otter-sized portion, she still wants to be thorough. She’s got a silver scale stuck to her nose and he’s not going to be the one to tell her.

Grade books, check. Lesson plans, check. Bento? Headband in place? Check and check. Insane otter companion? Wait…

“Sango, what are you doing in my bag?” The sow smiles cheerfully up at him.

“What does it look like?” She says, “I’m coming with you.”

Iruka sighs heavily, and gives her a look. No, just no.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” She declares imperiously, and for a second Iruka can see her mother’s temperament shining through. It really isn’t worth it. There’s a reason otter’s have a similar reputation to the kitsune.

He sighs, and hauls the bag onto his shoulder – otter and all – before locking the window behind him, and leaping onto the roof of the neighboring building. Tiny otter squeals of delight come from the satchel, and he can’t help but smile at Sango’s childishness.

He lands on the roof of the academy, sliding down the side of the building using very precise chakra control and unlocks the classroom window from the outside.

Doors are for civilians.

And boring people.

“Do not,” Iruka tells her firmly, as he sets the bag down on the floor, “terrorize my students.”

“Not even a little bit?” And goddamn, she’s not a dog, how is she pulling off the puppy-dog face. He sighs (a common occurrence for him), and rubs at his face.

“Nothing I can be blamed for,” he concedes, checking the desk and surrounding area for traps, just in case a certain orange-loving pre-teen had visited in the night. Satisfied that everything is safe, or at the very least not going to leave him covered in itching powder, Iruka opens the classroom door for the day and settles into his morning routine.

While Sango entertains herself by inspecting his students as they walk through the door – The responses varying between: “I didn’t know you had summons Iruka-sensei?” and “Holy crap. A talking otter!” That kid was practically asking to be bitten, -  he unpacks his bag for the day, shuffling through the papers to find the homework he’ll be handing back. Absently, he opens a drawer to put his bento away, and then reconsiders. Iruka unscrews the cap of his ink, and dips the tip of his brush in it, painting a careful preservation seal across the top of the bento. Naruto can be vicious when he’s bored, and Iruka never wants to end up with a mouthful of mealworms ever again.

It’d taken him a while, but eventually he’d managed to recreate the seal his mother used to ink onto the family bentos to keep the food fresh and pristine.

(Even now, painting the circle of kanji reminds him of his mother’s smile, and the way his father used to ruffle his hair on the way out the door in the morning.

And okay, so the first dozen tries at recreating the seal on his lunchbox had failed; including one spectacular explosion that had led to there being fragments of sushi all over the kitchen. He’d had to summon an entire romp of Otters to sniff out the tiny pieces, so his apartment wouldn’t end up stinking of rotten fish.  The downside was that the little pests had declared rice and nori to be acceptable, and frequently demand sushi whenever he called on them.

If they weren’t family…

Well, that’s the whole reason he wound up contracting them anyway, isn’t it?)

After his parents died, Iruka had almost drowned in the loneliness that came from living in a house empty of everything but memories. The room his parents had slept in was untouched, the door still flung open from where his mother had quickly rushed out to grab her battlegear.

A year later, and the only reason he’d even gone in there was because he’d torn a shirt, and needed the repair kit that lived in the nightstand on the right side of the bed. He hadn’t meant to, but his fingers had brushed over the slim scroll that sat next to the kit – trimmed with a delicate blue border of waves, in which otters happily frolicked. The same scroll that Ikkaku had fashioned to teach him how to summon only days before the Kyuubi had ruined everything. Tears well up, and he pulls the scroll from the drawer and cradles it to his chest.

Iruka’s tiny trembling hands break the wax seal and unwind the vellum, to reveal the summoning kanji. Even though it’s marked for Tadahiro, his father’s companion, Iruka knows that with his small reserves he’ll probably end up with one of the male otter’s pups.

It’d be worth it though. For even a tiny piece of what used to be.

He lays the scroll flat on the floor, bites his thumb and channels a spike of chakra into the seal. Smoke poofs into being, clearing to reveal a familiar face. Dark eyes blink up at him from a furry face, and paper rustles as a tail thumps in greeting.

“Hey Sango,” Iruka says, smiling sadly, recognizing the otter as his childhood playmate. The adolescent sow shuffles forwards, and clambers into his lap, pressing her snout into the crook of his neck.

“Iru-chan.” Iruka tastes salt on his lips, and he realizes he’s crying.

But for the first time in a year, they’re happy tears.

The call for the mission comes as he’s finishing up for the week at the Academy, and so Iruka heads on home to swap out his teaching bag with his go-bag. Sango isn’t too happy about being dismissed to the summoning realm, but she knows the drill as well as him.

Within an hour, he’s got his assignment and is sprinting out of the village gates.

He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s heading straight into a trap.

C-ranks. Why is it always C-ranks? Iruka wonders, dodging the blow of a katana. 

Turns out, there’s more than a few ex-kiri nin with a grudge to bear, and Iruka’s the poor sap who got the wrong end of the stick.

He dodges the explosive tags, and the shuriken, but he doesn’t dodge the blow to the gut and skids back ever-closer to the cliff-edge. There’s a shout from his right, and then all Iruka knows is bright light and too-much-sound, and he’s falling, falling, falling.

Iruka hits the water in a painful crash, and it knocks the breath from his lungs. Somewhere above, he imagines he hears a crow of victory before the laws of physics take over and he sinks beneath the waves.

The current drags him down, down, down. Away from the enemy, away from death. Away from fire and lightning, away from the cold steel and the bite of a katana. He tastes salt in his mouth and kicks furiously at the riptide. It does not let him go.

Because what belongs to the sea, must return to the sea.

The breathing underwater is new though.

Iruka wakes up to the strange sensation of being weightless, his eyes open to see the dazzling effect that sunlight creates when it passes through water. The reef could never have been so beautiful until now.

The reef.

He flails and panics, desperately holding his breath and why is he not drowning before reality sinks in and Iruka accepts that strange is relative in the world of very obvious ninja. The Uchiha breathe fire with an ease that makes the stories of them being descended from a dragon seem possible, the Shodaime talked to trees, the Niidaime and Yondaime could both teleport. 

There’s whispers that magic was known, not just known, but used and channeled into great feats of ingenuity in Uzushiogakure before it was destroyed - that magic augmented the Uzumaki seals beyond anything an ordinary human could do. In retrospect, breathing underwater, while extremely handy, is not such a big thing.

A shoal of tiny orange and white fish swim across his field of vision, and Iruka blinks, watching the reef come to life around him. It’s like a kaleidoscope of color as fish of all kinds surf the currents.

A nudge at his forearm has him looking down to see a pufferfish cozying up to his side. Tentatively, Iruka opens his fist and lifts his palm to the fish, rubbing his fingers across the soft spines. The small spiny fish releases a string of bubbles, and he gets the distinct feeling that it is happy.

Iruka returns home to Konoha, with a new skillset under his belt, and spends his evenings with a raft of Otters in the hotsprings. Chitters and squeals of delight about, as his non-human family realize that now he can play even more game with them.

Iruka finds himself taking more missions to water country than anywhere else, the knowledge that he is safe below the Ocean’s surface kept a sure secret. It’s his secret. His, and only his.

It’s another three months or so before the reason clicks into place inside his head. Iruka wants nothing more than to smack his head repeatedly against the old wooden desk. Because of course, that’s it. What’s in a name? Apparently everything, goddammit.

Umino.

Of the Sea.

The first Umino was bound to the Ocean by blood and by magic.

That’s why the water-affinity is so strong, that’s why the sea has been calling to him since before he could remember. It’s why he can breathe under water, why he learnt to swim before he could walk – and Iruka vaguely remembers his father sitting in an overlarge bathtub with him, a hand under his infant belly while his mother watched curiously.

It makes sense.

It feels right.

Konoha is his home, is the fire in his soul and the strength in his bones; but the Ocean is the salt in his veins and its current is the beat of his heart.

Two worlds. Both are his.

There’s old magic in nature, and there’s magic in the clans. Name aside, who would ever expect a ninja from fire country to be so strongly tied to the sea?

‘Yeah’, Iruka thinks, stroking a hand over Sango’s fur that night, ‘I can work with that.’

Possibly TBC… who knows.

[peterandviola]

The Upshot

Yesterday, the sky was violent. Rain fell like steel, relentless and cold. We spent the day indoors, except for brief interludes trying to get indoors or to the car. We rose early, too early. I didn’t want to miss my MRI appointment, which was hard won and inviolate.

There is a new MRI machine at UCSF Mission Bay. Rather than the usual donut shaped tube that tends to excite fear and phobia in so many people, it is shaped like an egg on its side. I felt no concern as the techs slide me into it. One, a sweet fellow who likes to tell jokes, noted that I was recovering from a Bronchial infection. He laughed, “I’ll give you a dollar if you manage to get through this without coughing.” And, of course, I instantly laughed and coughed.

Luckily, the rest of my time in the tube was calm and, yes, almost a rest.

Some of you have wondered why I am having yet another MRI. It has to do with something I have not wanted to talk about until now. My ever-thorough surgeon ordered it because there is more than a collapsed vertebra at T-7 in my spine; serious problems have arisen in my neck, as well. I have had years of spurs so long, they look like horse manes. I never gave it much thought. It is the evidence of two kinds of arthritis, Rheumatoid and Osteo. Both of my parents had RA; I expected it would be mine one day.

Diagnosed for years, I have fumbled along with it, trying and rejecting toxic drugs and treatments that didn’t work until my rheumatologist finally shook his head and sighed, “Well, if you threw the meds away, at least you did it in Paris.” It was great that I did! I resumed our Parisian visit by eating my way across the city of light and doting on our dear, dear friend Eddie. I went from Paris to a new medication that has stayed stable and helped a great deal. While I have been X-rayed and examined regularly, RA is like rust; it never sleeps.

Throughout the awful rehab from cancer and six operations, I have tried to ignore RA. The flares, the fumble hands, the numbness and so on, all reviled and unheeded, until now. Odd as it seems, this is good news. All the tests have confirmed that the issues in my spine and neck are NOT due to cancer spreading. Thanks be!

But, it is of importance that I address them, and soon. The first and least invasive surgery is now scheduled for March 28, coming right up. I have lightly referred to this as a cement injection, but it is more complex and perhaps more successful than that phrase implies. Let’s just say, the surgery will take a mere hour, and I will have Dr. Burch as my surgeon. Through an injection in the spine, he will insert a balloon via (a huge) syringe, which will be filled with a cement-like substance that will lift the wrecked vertebra off the spinal nerve. It’s an effective and mostly immediate relief! While his brand of Kyphoplasty requires incision and GPS like markers, the recovery is almost absurdly quick. I might go home that very day! Within a week, I should be fine. Wow!

Now, for the rest of the story. Vertebrae C-4,5,6 and 7 are also in need of immediate surgical intervention. Without it, there could be dire results, more serious than the collapse of T-7, which I will have fixed first. Best news of all is that Dr. Burch, despite his meticulous examinations, finds not a drop of cancer. This has humbled and thrilled me at the same time. I find that I have developed an unhelpful attitude about pain since the onset of my cancer. I like to ignore it and play it down to the sweet inquires of friends and the vital questions of doctors. “Oh, I’m fine,” is not a good thing. I vow from this day forward to never demure when asked. It is not helpful in any way.

The truth? I have chewed leather and bitten my tongue too often. I am in considerable pain a good deal of the time, sometimes actually causing me to be angry, forlorn, distracted or wishful. There! I said it! My great relief has been in extensive Physical Therapy, but it does not keep the pain at bay for long. There were times when I scaled Arthur’s Seat (and I did have active cancer, then undetected in my pelvis) when I practically doubled up from pain. I think the gamma ray therapy has helped the cancer, but the bone pain lingers, viciously.

The good news is that this is a treatable situation. I focus on that and must. The second surgery will involve fusing those unhappy cervical vertebrae. But, it is not the barbaric resection surgery that the first surgeon told me I must have, or put my affairs in order. Once again, I strongly suggest that if you find yourself in my position, get a second opinion.

So here you go. I am ready now, with vital information, straightforward diagnosis, and the assurance of my overall well-being. I feel as if my loved ones have all sprayed Cancer-Be-Gone all over my tired self. You have no idea how much I needed it! Or maybe you do. I have tried to be brave, if dumb about the situation, but I am brave enough now to be honest. I am walking, driving and even playing with little Puccini for short periods of time. I can fix a sandwich, wash a dish, and even cheer the Warriors on with glee, as long as I don’t try one of those cheerleader flips! But soon, it will be much better, and I will be able to travel, spend more time in chilly climes and be hugged with a heartiness that would leave me weeping without the repair. Bless you, each and every one, for all you have given to me—and to Peter—during this time. It has honestly helped us survive. Next up, thriving, thanks to you all.

[floralseokjin]

the fragmented journey of a permanently broken heart

min yoongi x reader angst 2863 words 

⇶ chapter index 

Two years after the break up

Seeing you again after all this time was like a punch to the gut. It took the wind right out of him. It had been over a year since he’d last seen you and you still looked as beautiful as you had then…  and before that, two years ago, still just as breathtaking. It was like time was one long stretch, waiting for those fleeting moments where he could see you again, and then everything in the world made sense once more. The beating in his heart, erratic and pounding when he saw you. You always had the same effect on him, from the first moment he saw you.

Not that he deserved it. He’d never deserved you.

He may be feeling like this now, an uneasy feeling in his gut, his heart heavy in his chest, his mind swirling with thoughts that would never exist, but he had been the one to break your heart. Two years ago, to the day. Ironic really. God was punishing him for ever letting you go. For watching you walk out of his life and never asking for you back. Never asking for a second chance, never explaining himself… never expressing himself…

That was his problem.

You were black and white. You said how you felt, you shared your thoughts as they popped into your brain. You were upfront with emotion, whereas he was the complete opposite. He was grey. He overthought every emotion he had, even happiness, and he was unable to express himself. He was too scared of looking stupid. Of being too vulnerable and getting hurt in the process. It was ironic once again, because everything he thought he’d been protecting himself from had been what had hurt him in the end. It had bitten him on the ass and now he was alone and bitter.

There would be no-one like you again.

He had always said he didn’t believe in soulmates, while you’d always insisted there were such a thing. You had even said he was yours on one occasion, under your blanket fort, breathless and sweaty, euphoric from your high. He had shaken it off, even if the drumming in his heart told him he felt the same way. He was drowning in your love, but he couldn’t admit to it. He was too afraid. The three little words he’d wanted to say to you that night catching in his throat…

He thought back to that night regularly. Would things have been different if he had confessed just how much he loved you. Because he did love you. He still did. He was sure of that now as you stood in front of him, mouth open in shock. He was unsure if he would ever stop. Time was supposed to heal all wounds, but his just got worse.

Time got better for you though, and he was glad. He had hurt you, and someone else had healed you.

“Taehyung…?”

He watched as you lifted your eyes to the man behind him, puzzlement in your eyes, question in your voice and Yoongi’s heart dropped. You didn’t want him here. He knew he had been right. He’d told Taehyung a million and one times but the boy hadn’t listened.

“What? You said I could bring a plus one, right?” Taehyung joked and Yoongi resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

He was going to ruin your big day. This wasn’t what he wanted at all. He didn’t even know why he had agreed to come here. He must have a death’s wish. He must like to suffer. To remind himself of everything he’d once loved and lost.

“Yeah, but…,” he watched you begin and then you shrugged, a smile appearing on your face as you wrinkled your nose and shook your head. “It doesn’t matter—I’m glad you’re here Yoongi.”

This was all too much for him. Your smile, the way you wrinkled up your nose, it reminded him of when you were grossed out by the smell of his coffee in the morning. The way you so casually said his name when he was so used to your delicate voice practically singing it at him. Now he was just like any other person in your life. A past acquaintance you hadn’t seen in a while. He felt like the earth was falling from under him, desperate to keep his body steady as you made your way towards him.

“Have you been well? I would have invited you but I didn’t think this would be your type of thing. You didn’t need to be his plus one,” you shot, your attention falling back to Taehyung as you stuck out your tongue.

Taehyung just chucked and Yoongi suddenly felt very out of place. It suddenly became apparent that you had been living a life without him. One that he probably had no place in anymore. Sharing friends was always going to be a bind, but it had been easy when Yoongi chose to stay out of it. It was simple—he just didn’t show up where you were. It was better now that you had moved to the city, but it still didn’t make things easier…

It still didn’t stop him missing you…

“You know me… I’ve been fine, just getting by,” he answered, aware you were waiting for an answer, his voice gruff from his throat being so dry and he coughed to clear the barrier that held him back.

Not like that would help.

“How are you?”

You were great. It was a stupid question. He could tell by the permanent smile on your face and the twinkle in your eyes. He wondered if you ever looked at him like that? If you were ever that happy with him? Probably not, because you always knew there was something lacking. You always knew something wasn’t right.

“I’m doing great,” you smiled, a faraway look in your eyes as you stepped closer to him.

He knew that look; you were deep in thought and his pulse quickened as you reached out to touch his arm. How long had he been imagining your touch again? Ever since you went, that’s how long.

“You look really good, Yoongi,” you told him, the smile on your face growing fond. “Your hair is black again,” and his heart stopped for a second as you reached up to run your fingers through his fringe and he found himself closing his eyes for a moment. “I’ve always liked that best…”

Your robe moved with the breeze of your action and he could smell your perfume as he looked down at you. His breathing was shallow and he almost forgot Taehyung was in the same room. Your perfume was still the same scent you’d used back then. Some things never changed but then again, some things did… It was funny how a smell could drop him back into the past so suddenly… under that blanket fort that he used to love so much…

A part of him wanted to speak again. A part of him wanted to scream at himself. Why wasn’t he able to express himself? Why couldn’t he tell you everything he had been holding back for two years—even longer than that. Why couldn’t he tell you how he felt?

… He knew why… It was too late.

You were somebody else’s now. You weren’t his. You had never been his properly. He had never let that happened, despite how much you wanted it…

He took a step back, your hand falling from his hair and dropping back to your side. He needed to make some distance. He needed to prepare himself for the next hour or so. He needed to prepare himself for the rest of his future… He watched you eye him, confused for a second before nodding slightly, as if you understood and then you turned your attention back to Taehyung.

He watched you grin as Taehyung outstretched his arms, enveloping you into a hug as he made a noise and squished your body to his. Yoongi felt a pang of jealously he knew he shouldn’t have. It had nothing to do with Taehyung, but he couldn’t help it. He wished he was the man who got to do that to you every day. He couldn’t even remember if he’d ever embraced you like that…

Why hadn’t he…?

“Seokjin won’t know what hit him,” Taehyung grinned as he pulled away and Yoongi watched you smile shyly, ignoring the twisting in his stomach.

“Aren’t you lucky, having a best friend like me to set you up with the love of your life?”

Yoongi swallowed back the bile in his mouth, averting eye contact as he looked around the room. That was a bad idea—he saw your dress hanging on the door. A painful reminder of what was about to happen, and then you made it worse…

“Excuse me,” you scolded, fake attitude in your voice and Yoongi looked back at you both with curiosity as you corrected him. “My soulmate.”

Yoongi felt his heart drop out of his rib cage, the word spinning around in his head as Taehyung rolled his eyes and chuckled.

Soulmate.

He suddenly hated Taehyung. Granted, it wasn’t his fault. He just wanted to see his best friend happy, but the bitterness rose up his throat and clouded his rationality. Taehyung had also been the one to introduce you and he together. He must have a knack for setting up his friends… only it didn’t work in your favour the first time because you had fallen for him… someone who was too insecure and too weak to admit his feelings…

He wondered if you remembered all of this. How you’d met on a night out. How Taehyung had hounded Yoongi to text you afterwards. Yoongi wondered if Taehyung remembered telling him “you’re perfect for one another.” He wondered if Taehyung still thought that? Did he think you were settling right now? Did he think you and Seokjin were just as perfect for each other? Or did he just want you to be happy?

Yoongi shook his head, he was being stupid. He was being cynical. Anyone with the ability to see could realise you were deeply in love. It radiated off your body. It physically stabbed him. It physically burned him… It physically hurt him…

He thought back to the last time he’d seen you. Just over a year ago now. Taehyung was holding a New Year’s Eve party at his. He’d forced Yoongi to go even though he knew you’d be there. He wasn’t ready, and he didn’t know what he was expecting when he finally saw you again. Maybe for you to be just as upset as the last time? Maybe he was too self-absorbed, because he was shocked to see you were doing just fine without him. Even better, actually.

He wasn’t.

Each smile slipped him back into the past. Each laugh, each motion you made, just made him miss you more. That was the night he truly realised how much of an idiot he was. He wanted you to miss him just as much. He wanted you to confess that you still thought of him, still wanted him… still loved him… but you didn’t…

It turned out, you’d already been dating Seokjin for two months. That’s why you looked so happy.

Yoongi shut his eyes for a second, feeling overwhelmed, hearing you and Taehyung giggle together. The sound was so foreign to him. You hadn’t giggled with him in so long. In fact, the last time you were truly his, you had been crying.

It was two years ago to the day, a coincidence that made him want to laugh bitterly. He wondered if you remembered the date? Or was he the only one sad enough to never forget? Was he the only one sad enough to still be living in the past? He hadn’t moved. Or course there had been other women, but no one came close to you.

The one who got away.

The one he let get away.  

He still remembered the way you’d asked if he’d ever be able to love you. It was heartbreaking. Especially because he already did. He was just too much of a coward to admit it. He didn’t know why. He still didn’t. You had loved him. You had wanted to be with him, and he’d just stayed silent. Until you had realised that he wasn’t going to change. You weren’t strong enough. He still remembered your parting words as you left his apartment, your face tear stricken.

“I’m not important enough to make you change.”

That was a lie.

You were too important to him, that’s why he was like this.

You were too special, too perfect for a man like him. He didn’t deserve you.

That’s why, despite his bitterness, despite his heart breaking, he knew Seokjin was everything that you’d been looking for. He deserved you. He knew how to cherish you. He knew how to love you. Way better than Yoongi did… He could see it in your face.

You had never been this happy with him.

That’s what hurt the most.

.

.

The church was cold. Too large and empty as he watched you at the altar, hand in hand with the man who wasn’t him. The cold pierced through his bones and there may as well not have been any guests there. He had never felt so alone. Except for one person.

Taehyung.

Yoongi could feel his presence beside him, a painful reminder of what was happening right now. A painful reminder of what could have been and a painful reminder of what he had to let go.

He knew Taehyung had invited him—no, forced him to go to make him move on. Taehyung knew once Yoongi watched you get married that he’d have no option but to let you go. It was tough love. Taehyung loved him like a brother and he knew he was still held up on the memory of you. Maybe he even blamed himself? This was his way of helping… He’d already helped you move on; now it was his turn.

Yoongi knew this and he let himself bask in the final minutes he had left with you.

He imagined he was the one stood facing you. He imagined he was the one giving his vows. It wouldn’t be hard. In his head, he knew exactly what to say to you. He always did.

He imagined how that night when you left him, how different things would have been if he’d confessed. If he’d let himself cry and tell you just how much you meant to him. If he told you just how much he loved you.

He imagined how happy you would have been—how happy you both would have been. How in love you would have been. He imagined moving in with you, waking up next to you every morning and falling asleep beside you every night. He imagined laughing with you, kissing you, holding you. He imagined how he would have proposed to you. …Actually, he didn’t need to imagine, he already knew how he’d do it… He’d thought about it so many times over the months and now… years… It would be under that blanket fort as he’d whisper his inner, most intimate thoughts. He’d tell you how much he was in love with you. How much you had changed him for the better and how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

All these false memories he’d made flew through his mind like a movie, imagining how he would be so nervous, yet so excited to watch you walk down the aisle as you met him at the altar. He’d take you by the hand and know that this was it.

The first day of the rest of his life.

Images of your make-believe future appeared. Your wedding night, your honeymoon, your first house as husband and wife… your children… even growing old together. It all flashed before his eyes, but then he heard something that told him it would never be a reality…

“I love you, Seokjin,” you smiled through tears, reaching out to clasp his face. “My soulmate.”

Soulmate.

Were there such a thing? How could there be when you thought he was yours once upon a time? Or had you been mistaken? You believed he couldn’t be your soulmate because he didn’t love you. You thought your soulmate was still out there, when in reality, Yoongi loved you more than anything.

He still did.

You were his soulmate. He knew that now.

There was a final kick to his gut as his heart clenched, an invisible vice like grip constricting his ability to breathe. He felt Taehyung’s hand squeeze his knee in a last-ditch attempt of comfort as he watched you reach up and place a lingering kiss on Seokjin’s mouth.

Sealing your happy ever after and sealing his reality.

It was over.

Everything he had been holding onto had gone.

You were gone, and he needed to move on.

He was too late.

[minxiebutt]

just pals being pals

(a twist of @gouguruheddo‘s no homo lime in this drank. this plotless fluffy one is for you, acky baby <3)

Levi sinks into the Smith’s hot tub with a carnal sigh.

Monday in government class, Erwin had told him that his parents were going away that weekend, so Levi has been looking forward to it all week. Gymnastics is his only extracurricular activity, but now that he’s on the hunt for scholarships, every meet must be his best. Despite regularly engaging in such strenuous sport, Levi is, as he answered enthusiastically in the middle of a lesson on immigration fluctuations, “always a slut for a dip in some hot water.”

Erwin sinks in with an appreciative sigh of his own. Academics is hard work, too. For a minute, they relax on adjacent edges, and then Levi makes the move into Erwin’s lap, chest to chest, short legs wrapped around Erwin’s waist for good measure.

“Rub my neck and shoulders,” Levi demands, knowing full well that he will not be denied. The first dig of Erwin’s meaty thumbs into tender deltoids causes Levi to tense, momentarily making his muscular body a visual guide, defined enough that Erwin could possibly use him to study for his upcoming anatomy and physiology exam. The next second, Levi is a smooth expanse of reddening skin again. It always amazes Erwin, the difference a little tension can make. His own body is still adjusting to his growth spurt last year, making a beanpole of him, but Levi, in his compact build, has thighs to kill a man.

Erwin rubs until Levi is figuratively boneless and boiled, and then he rubs a little lower. For relaxation. Levi’s relaxation. After a week like this, Erwin just wants to see Levi enjoy himself, and Erwin is more than happy to give. He knows his ministrations are well appreciated by the way Levi wraps his arms around Erwin’s shoulders and graces Erwin’s ears with quiet, needy whines until Levi climaxes with a sweet, slow, low croon, “Fuuuck, Erwiiin.”

Touching Levi is always a pleasure. Erwin likes the softness of his hair, the almost-smooth expanses of his skin, the noises Levi makes. Like a hidden talent, Erwin is able to encourage such sounds from Levi, moans and whimpers and bitten half-words. Usually, Levi is wound up tightly and stoic, but when they’re alone, Levi unravels so easily. Just a stroke here and there and Erwin can reduce him to a horny boy with an otherworldly appetite.

They’ve been on the couch together drinking lemonade for ten minutes when Levi loses interest in the Kardashian rerun. Without a word, Levi hops up and trots off, returns quickly with two cubes of nail polish.

“Gold or red?” Levi asks, sitting on the couch, legs criss-cross, facing his best friend.

“Red,” Erwin says. It accentuates Levi’s mouth, those full lips often drawn into their fair share of a scowls. “Gold accents, if you want.”

“Whatever you think looks good.” Levi gives him the two little cubes and then holds out his hands expectantly. Erwin takes his time and paints Levi’s nails with care, avoiding smearing the polish onto Levi’s skin. When he’s all done, Erwin brings Levi’s hands up and gently blows on them to bring the polish to set more quickly.

Levi twitches. “That tickles.”

“You say that every time.” Erwin takes a deep breath and releases it, watching the way it shifts Levi’s arm hair. “Does it still turn you on?”

Considering the fact that Erwin has Levi’s cock down his throat no more than sixty seconds later, it’s a clear answer.

Levi is a rascal in bed. He makes tangles of Erwin’s sheets and limbs, gets Erwin hard and fucks himself on Erwin’s cock while Erwin lays there with hands on Levi’s hips and “Levi!” on his lips. Ordinarily, Erwin’s parents are home so they screw like demure housewives, but tonight, they solely occupy the Smith residence; Erwin’s headboard scuffs the paint and Levi tosses his head back to better let his pleasure rumble through him, too much to contain in his body. They'd learned to fuck by fucking one another, and it shows. He knows how to wring an orgasm from Erwin about as fast as Erwin’s favourite video, a clip on his phone of Levi doing... stretches.

Just a moment later, Levi cums dry in an obscene, wailing shriek of pleasure. For a second, he’s tense all over again, every cut muscle showing, and then he melts into himself and slumps down onto Erwin, his forehead to Erwin’s chest. Levi promptly passes out. Erwin slips out from under Levi and tucks him into bed, and then goes to the kitchen to get snacks for Levi. His metabolism runs like a stallion, requires constant maintenance, and Erwin likes to pamper Levi whenever he stays over.

Erwin also likes to leave goodie bags in Levi’s locker. He marks all of Levi’s meets in his student planner and coordinates snacks depending on Levi’s needs.

“You’re, like, a great fucking boyfriend,” Levi tells him on Valentine’s Day, his locker overflowing with red and pink and white. “Always doting on me. Shit. You’re so fucking gay, Erwin.”

“So are you,” Erwin retorts playfully, pulling Levi into a tight hug and settling his chin in Levi’s hair.

“I’m not gay, I just like you,” Levi scoffs, but his hands are creeping into the pockets of Erwin’s heavily decorated letterman. A teacher shoos them apart, citing the school’s policy on public displays of affect. Levi licks a stripe up Erwin’s throat in front of the teacher before separating and heading to his class, and Erwin lets the saliva dry instead of wiping it away.

Once Erwin’s academic load lightens, he begins attending the gymnastics meets. He sits beside Ms. Ackerman in the bleachers, blanketed in the shroud of protection that her 1990 Olympics silver medal offers from the vicious parental politics.

It’s really cute to watch Levi interact with his gym mates from afar, helping adjust spandex and hairbows. He’s only the barest bit taller than the girls, and altogether, they look like a group of children as they stand on the sidelines while each competes. Levi is the only male, and so his events are vastly different from the girls’, but after a particularly impressive night, Levi takes to the equipment in the emptying gym with a scandalous glint in his eyes.

By the time Levi is done showing off, Ms. Ackerman has to politely ignore the tenting in Erwin’s jeans as they all walk out to the parking lot. She doesn’t stop Levi as he climbs into Erwin’s car even though it’s a school night, only reminds Levi that he needs to answer if she calls because it’ll be important. Ms. Ackerman never calls.

There’s glitter across Levi’s cheekbones that catches in the streetlights as Erwin drives, and his leotard shimmers under Erwin’s letterman. The first thing Levi does at the Smith’s is eat, cleans out half the leftovers as he stands at the island. Erwin keeps his glass of ice water topped off.

“I’m so fucking tired,” he whines when he drops into Erwin’s bed like it’s his own. It might as well be. Droplets of water in his hair from their shower catch in the pillows.

“Too tired to have sex?”

Levi lazily rolls his head sideways to give Erwin an unimpressed expression. “That’s a stupid ass question.”

Nevertheless, Erwin does all the work. Sucking Levi off while working a finger into his ass to massage his prostate is terribly efficient. Levi cums biting the back of his wrist because Erwin’s parents are down the hallway and like hell does he want anyone to hear him in the throes of pleasure. Erwin jacks off using Levi’s cum for lube and even though Levi voices revulsion, he still kisses Erwin deeply in their post-coital high.

Erwin gets plenty of hopeful invitations to senior prom, and to silence them, he does the most dramatic thing he can think of. Jumping up onto the table, Erwin points across the cafeteria and shouts, “Levi Ackerman, let’s go to prom!”

“You can go fuck yourself!” Levi shouts back as he ducks out, blushing all the way to his ears.

Erwin pursues, and when he catches up to Levi in the sciences hallway, Levi shoves his tongue so far down Erwin’s throat that they share breath, and frots against Erwin’s thigh between his legs with zealous need.

“You’re a romantic piece of shit,” Levi huffs against his mouth, eyes screwed shut, voice pained with the need to climax. “Get that from a movie?”

“Perhaps,” Erwin breathes, cupping the bulge in Levi’s jeans. “Go to prom with me.”

“Why? So we can--” his breathing hitches into a whine “--take shitty photos and slow dance and lose our virginity?” Levi laughs at his own joke. “I’ve taken that fat cock up my ass more than the biggest slut in school’s been laid.”

Erwin doesn’t understand why it twists hotly in his gut, but it does. His fingers dig into Levi’s jeans unforgivingly. “Maybe,” he bites Levi’s tongue when it gets in the way, “I want you inside me.”

“Don’t write checks with that mouth that your ass can’t keep.”

“I’m not.”

And Erwin isn’t lying. They get matching tuxedos and boutineers and slow dance and take that awkward photo with the cheesy decorations, and as soon as they’re in Erwin’s room and the door is shut, Levi attacks. It’s easy work to get Erwin spread on his belly with Levi inside him. Their difference in size finds the tip of Levi’s cock knocks right against Erwin’s prostate and then drags along it mercilessly.

Erwin is crying streams of tears by the time he soils his sheets. Levi pulls out and pushes Erwin’s ass cheeks together and fucks himself there, coating Erwin’s back in a mark of ownership when he finishes.

“You’re so fucking gay,” Levi whimpers as he cleans them both.

Erwin is a little beyond blissed out, but he manages, “So are you.” And this time, Levi only kisses Erwin’s shoulder in response.

[leagueofbane]

“You are not helping, Barsad.”

Nyssa forms a plan to acquire information, and Barsad aids Bane with Henri in this next installment of my fic THE DEMON’S LEGACY.

This story is also available at Ao3 and FanFiction.net.

Chapter 7

          ��  Nyssa set aside the book she was reading and watched Ra’id Tahan meander through the bazaar, making his way inevitably to her mother’s stall. He was built tall and strong, like a fortress rampart, his hair black and wavy, long but clean and kempt. There was vanity in his neatness. She had noted it when they first met during her last visit to see her mother a year ago. He had made a play for her, and she might have bitten except that she had been married at the time. Not that she had been interested in anything significant, merely a good fuck; at the time, she and her husband had been fighting regularly, so sex had gone by the wayside. She had grown hungry, and Tahan at least was easy on the eyes. A soldier of one sort or another since able to hold a gun—or so he had bragged—he had a body that would attract most women. And since yesterday, after Nyssa’s curiosity had been stirred by little Henri from the palace, she had been hoping to see Tahan. He worked for Nashir El Fadil, so he was her best hope for answers.

           When Ra’id finally reached her, Nyssa made sure she offered a sultry smile. “Ra’id Tahan wandering through a bazaar, yet he’s bought nothing.”

           He grinned straight white teeth like a wolf. “Maybe I haven’t seen anything of value…yet.”

           Nyssa removed the sheer scarf she wore about her head, one of her mother’s creations, and tossed her hair. She went through the pretense of smoothing the garment and carefully placing again. Ra’id’s dark gaze raked over her hair and face, briefly her breasts.

           “How is your mother? I heard she’s improving.”

           “She is.”

           “So you’ll be leaving soon?”

           “Not too soon. Maybe I’ll find a reason to stay a bit longer.”

           His grin widened. “Maybe I can give you one.”

           Nyssa caught the disapproving glance of the woman at the neighboring stall. She would say nothing toward Ra’id, though; she was no fool. None of the villagers ever spoke against the El Fadil family or any of the men under their employ, not if they wanted to remain alive. In return for the villagers’ seeming ignorance of what the El Fadils and their guests did for a living, they received protection, employment for many and other financial support. If one person betrayed the El Fadils to an enemy, they risked the entire village paying for that betrayal. So everyone toed the line. But Nyssa knew that loyalty wouldn’t keep the woman from later gossiping about the loose morals of Diya Panjabi’s daughter. Nyssa didn’t care about it for herself, but she didn’t want her mother hurt.

           “How is your mother?” Nyssa asked Ra’id.

           His thick eyebrows rose in surprise. “How kind of you to remember her. She is well.”

           Thanks to the El Fadils, Nyssa knew. Ra’id’s father had worked for the palace for many years and had been responsible for getting his son hired as well. When he had been killed by one of his employer’s many enemies a couple of years ago, the El Fadils had given his widow a sum that would keep the woman comfortable for many years to come.

           “Is she still in Jaipur?”

           “Yes.”

           “Do you see her much?”

           “Usually once a month at least. Whatever my work allows.”

           Nyssa nodded in approval. “Still working for the palace, I hear?”

           Ra’id’s grin returned. “Checking up on me, are you? What would your husband say about that?”

           Nyssa snorted. “He’d say nothing. We’re divorced.”

           Now Ra’id’s eyes crinkled with satisfaction. He tsked sarcastically. “I am so sorry to hear that.”

           “Yeah, right. I’m not.”

           “Perhaps we should celebrate, then.”

           “You have something in mind?”

           He raked his fingers through his hair. “I can think of one or two things.”

           “Well, I have to tend to my mother’s business.”

           “During the day, yes. But not at night.” Ra’id made sure he stared at the nosy neighbor, who quickly turned away. He chuckled.

           “Are you inviting yourself over for dinner?”

           Pretending to be scandalized, Ra’id gasped. “I would never do such a thing, Nyssa. But maybe…I was thinking more like…dessert. But not with your mother.”

           “Hmm. Well, I might be able to slip out…if she’s feeling well enough, that is. But we might not be alone if it’s too early.”

           He frowned. “What do you mean?”

           Nyssa’s glance flicked down to her left. “There’s a man who’s been watching me since yesterday. But, then, you probably already knew that, didn’t you?”

           Ra’id had more sense than to immediately look in the direction she had indicated. “I know nothing about anyone watching you.”

           “Well, you must. Who else but someone from the palace would be keeping tabs on me? Maybe that’s what you’re doing with your invitation to…dessert.”

           “I assure you there was no mention of you in our morning briefing. If someone is watching you…” Something came to him, stopped him; she saw a realization in his eyes. “Well…” He squared his shoulders, swallowed. “It isn’t any of Nashir’s men.”

           “No?” She hid her surprise, for she could tell he was being honest. “Who else could it be?”

           “Perhaps someone you’ve wronged. You are still a soldier of fortune, aren’t you?”

           Nyssa shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe.” Her eyes again flicked to the man sitting in the shade of a building, pretending to doze. She wanted to ask Ra’id about Henri, but she wouldn’t do it right away. That might scare him off. She would need to give him something first before he would ever consider answering any of her questions.

           “Whoever he is, he’s either stupid or bold—he’s not even trying to blend in.”

           “Shall I go ask him his business?” Ra’id patted a pistol hidden beneath his clothes.

           “No. I’m not afraid of him. Let him have his fun for now.”

           But if Nyssa hoped to gain access to the palace, she would need to lose her tail. That meant outwaiting him tonight. If he followed the same pattern as last night, he would disappear once she was home with her mother for the evening.

           “Well,” she continued with a half-smile, “you’d better move on before my mother starts hearing terrible things about her daughter. The least you could do is buy something so it looks like you have an honorable purpose for talking to me.”

           “All right. Fair enough.” He perused the colorful array of scarves and hijabs. “Which is your favorite?”

           “Guess.”

           He narrowed his eyes in pleasure over the game. “Hmm. A bold woman like you will like bold colors. So something red, blood red. Maybe with black in it. Yes, this one here.” He picked up the item. “Am I right?”

           Nyssa wasn’t about to admit that he had indeed chosen her favorite. “I’ll tell you tonight.” She lowered her voice. “But it will have to be after Maji goes to bed.”

           “I’ll wait outside where she can’t see me.”

           They put on a good show of haggling over a price for the scarf before Ra’id left with his prize. She watched him peruse the wares of other sellers, but it was only for show, and soon he vanished from sight. The woman in the next booth gave Nyssa one last look of disapproval, accompanied by a slight shake of her head. Nyssa smiled to herself and went back to reading her book.

           Barsad sauntered up the stairs from the lower level of the palace, his fingers combing his damp hair after his morning swim. Thinking of Sanjana, no doubt still dozing in bed, he smiled. But the expression faded in short order when he reflected upon their troubling conversation about marriage and Maysam. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Sanjana was jealous of Maysam. Although he didn’t think she had heard anything about his past affair with Maysam, he was painfully aware of women’s intuition. Sanjana had always lacked self-confidence; how the hell could it be otherwise, considering the life she had led before they became a couple? So it shouldn’t be surprising that she might suspect a dalliance. Maybe he shouldn’t be quite so warm toward Maysam when Sanjana was around. Barsad frowned. He should probably warn Maysam about this. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings if she didn’t understand his change in behavior. Jesus, he sighed. Women!

           Once on the ground floor of the palace, he turned right, down a broad, carpeted hallway, past a formal dining room, headed for the broad, sweeping staircase near the main door. He heard a commotion and saw Yemi and one of their men hurry out the door. Instinctively Barsad grew concerned and rushed forward. Surely nothing alarming had happened; he would’ve been called.

           Reaching the foyer, he saw Abrams racing down the stairs, a scowl clouding his face. He was quietly grumbling profanities.

           “What the hell’s going on?” Barsad asked.

           Abrams didn’t break stride as he passed Barsad, muttering, “I told her, ‘Stay in the compound.’ She says, ‘Sure, sure.’ Ten minutes later she’s getting in a car. Fuck me. God damn women.”

           “Maysam? Where’s she going?” He trailed after Abrams, saw a familiar white SUV with darkly-tinted windows parked out front, Yemi climbing in.

           “Go talk to Bane,” Abrams called over his shoulder. “We can thank him for this.”

           When Abrams opened the SUV door and got in, Barsad thought he saw Talia inside, but then the door shut. He suddenly became aware of a distant, thin cry coming from somewhere outside, above him. It sounded like someone was killing a baby goat. Then he realized it was Henri, crying in a high pitch and calling for his mother. Surely the kid wasn’t alone on the veranda?

           Barsad hurried outside and looked up toward Talia and Bane’s suite. Henri was there, all right, in Bane’s arms, shrieking for his mother as the SUV headed for the gate. Cursing, Barsad sprinted back inside. Hopefully Talia and Maysam were just going on a shopping venture, but, if so, why hadn’t he been informed of it?

           When he reached Bane’s suite, he could hear Henri inside, still crying, the sound muffled. Barsad knocked urgently on the door.

           “Come in,” Bane called.

           Barsad found his commander walking slowly around the suite, a sobbing Henri in his arms. Bane moved with a gentle bounce to his step, in hopes of soothing the child, but it was doing little good. Although two years had gone by since Henri’s birth, Barsad still found the sight of his large, muscle-bound friend holding his small son amusing as well as moving, the latter even more so now that his own child was about to be born. He wondered if he would be as good a father as Bane.

           When Henri saw Barsad, hope flashed in his wet eyes, and the toddler pointed toward the veranda. “Get Mama, Unca John.”

           Henri’s flawed pronunciation of uncle usually made Barsad grin, but he found little to be amused about right now.

           “What the hell’s going on?” Barsad asked Bane.

           “Get Mama!” Henri demanded.

           “Hush, child,” Bane softly ordered. “Mama is gone.”

           This made Henri arch his back in protest and cry harder.

           “Jin, I said hush.”

           As Barsad came across the room, Henri stretched his arms toward him. “Unca John…”

           “C’mere, kid. You’ve soaked your dad, and you really need a Kleenex.”

           “Barsad,” Bane began to protest.

           “Just gimme the kid. It’s clear he’s pissed at you. Maybe I can get him to stop crying.”

           “Must I remind you to watch your language?”

           “C’mere, little monster. Let’s wipe your snot.”

           Bane hesitated, but then allowed Barsad to take the boy. Henri wrapped his arms around Barsad’s neck and buried his face against his shoulder.

           “Okay, hang on,” Barsad said. “Don’t wipe all that snot on me.” He carried the child to the sofa and sat, snatching a tissue from a decorative dispenser on the coffee table. “Here.” Pressing the tissue to Henri’s nose, he commanded, “Blow.” The boy’s attempt was half-hearted, but Barsad cleaned him up the best he could as the sobs trailed away into hiccups.

           “Want Mama,” Henri whined.

           “Where’d she go?” Barsad asked Bane. “And why didn’t I know about it? Apparently Abrams didn’t either. He’s pissed.”

           “Language,” Bane growled, sitting at the opposite end of the sofa.

           Henri pillowed his head on Barsad’s shoulder and repeated, “Want Mama, Unca John.”

           Barsad raised his eyebrows at Bane to prompt him to explain.

           “Talia’s departure was only planned last night after dinner. I didn’t want to disturb you and Sanjana, especially since your services aren’t required in this. Yemi is accompanying Talia to Chateau Blanc, and I have ordered a detail of our brothers to meet her there for security.”

           “Why Chateau Blanc?”

           “When I returned yesterday, it was quite apparent to me that Talia needs a holiday from motherhood.” He sighed. “I have been remiss, brother. Duty keeps me away too much, and the work of rearing our somewhat troublesome cub has fallen solely to her. It is wearing on her. She deserves some rest and relaxation, away from responsibility. She didn’t want to go, but in the end, I believe she saw the necessity.”

           “Maysam’s going with her?”

           “No, merely accompanying her to the airstrip. Talia was quite distraught, parting from our son, so Maysam is comforting her.”

           “Maysam agrees with her leaving?”

           “Yes. We have discussed the possibility before, as you know.”

           Barsad nodded. “How long will she be gone?”

           “A couple of weeks.”

           Barsad reared his head back so he could better see Henri’s face. “You hear that, champ? Your mom won’t be gone long. In the meantime, it’ll just be us guys, yeah? That’ll be fun. We’ll do all the things your mom tells us we can’t do.”

           “Barsad—”

           Henri sniffed back his ebbing tears. “Shoot gun?”

           “Sure! The biggest one I’ve got.”

           “Ride elephant?”

           “Well, that one’s a little tougher—no elephants at the palace. But maybe we can take you to Jaipur.”

           “Barsad—”

           “What? I’m just trying to cheer the poor kid up.”

           “Ride elephant, Papa Baba?” Henri let go of Barsad’s neck and slipped down to sit in his lap, looking hopefully at his father.

           “We can talk about that later, Jin.”

           “See?” Barsad said. “Look at those tears dry right up.”

           “Jin, tell Uncle John why Mama went away.”

           Henri’s gaze fell, and his lower lip jutted out.

           “Remember what I told you?”

           Henri hesitated before saying, “Mama sad.”

           “And why is she sad?” Bane pressed.

           “’Cause me.”

           “You?” Barsad tousled the boy’s hair. “Never.” He grinned at Bane, who remained impassive.

           “He must learn to show his mother respect. If she thinks you have learned your lesson, Jin, she will come home.”

           Barely audible, Henri mumbled, “I be good. Mama come home.”

           “Don’t worry.” Barsad gave him a squeeze and a tickle to the belly that almost pulled a smile from the child. “Your papa will miss your ma as much as you will, and he’ll have her home in no time. Just watch.”

           “You are not helping, Barsad.”

           “I think I am. Look, he’s not crying, is he? And the snot’s gone. In fact, I bet I know someone who’ll make you feel even better, little guy.” He tapped Henri’s nose.

           “Who, Unca John?”

           “Sanjana.” He stood with the boy still in his arms. “Let’s go see if her lazy bones are outta bed yet.”

           “I listen to baby?”

           “You bet.” Barsad grinned. Sanjana loved how Henri would daily press his ear to her belly and talk to the child.

           “Baby come out today?”

           Barsad chuckled. “I wish, but no, not for a while yet. After your mama comes back. She wouldn’t want to miss the birth. I was there when you were born, after all.”

           Bane stood. “Bring him back here when you and Sanjana are done cheering him up, brother.” He offered a conciliatory smile to his son. “Then you and I shall visit the gardens before the day grows too hot.”

           “Play in the water?”

           “Yes, you may splash in the fountains, but only with your hands.”

           “Yes, Papa Baba.” Then Henri whispered loudly in Barsad’s ear. “I be good.”

           Barsad grinned. “That remains to be seen.”

           Bane watched them go, smiling to himself. The mutual love between Henri and Barsad pleased him. Sanjana adored the child, too, and Bane knew she would play a vital role in helping Henri endure his mother’s absence. She would feel sorry for Henri and mother him, so Bane would need to caution her against making Henri forget the lesson behind Talia’s time away.

           “Naaji!” Bane called to the guard in the hall before Barsad could shut the door behind him.

           “Yes, sir?” The Arab stepped smartly into the doorway, a man in his early thirties and a member of the League for ten years.

           “You are relieved of duty.”

           The man frowned. “Sir?”

           “Talia will be away for a couple of weeks. During that time, I would like you and our brothers here to enjoy some downtime. Both myself and Barsad will be here and attentive enough to allow this. Two of you at a time may enjoy some relaxation outside the compound each day.”

           A surprised smile briefly dissolved Naaji’s disciplined expression. “Thank you, sir.”

           “You may go inform your brothers.”

           “Yes, sir.” Naaji hesitated, as if about to question Bane’s certainty, but of course the man knew better, and so left the suite, closing the door behind him.

           Bane stretched his back and sighed. He looked forward to a walk in the gardens to loosen his joints and muscles, and to watch his son cavort among the flowers and fountains and chase birds. He planned to keep Henri as busy as possible today to distract the boy from grief. And perhaps a trip to Jaipur was not such a bad idea. If anything would help Henri endure, it would be fulfilling his dream to ride an elephant.

           Bane’s lips twisted when he thought of Talia’s sorrow. Hopefully, once at Chateau Blanc, she would allow herself to enjoy her holiday. How he wished he could be with her. To deprive himself of her presence so soon after returning to her was like slicing himself open with a knife. But he knew he had made the right decision.

           Still, he would count the days and hours until he held her in his arms again.