#but do they directly correlate to my mood while watching them?

[emonydeborah]

snw episodes rated by Una

in which Una is my unit of measurement, not that this is what she would think of the events

All from memory bc who has time

SPOILERS FOR EVERYTHING

1x01: she’s literally the catalyst for getting Chris off his butt and the whole episode. Barely in it but she did all the detective work for everybody. “Somehow I knew you would” with the little smile and “La’an!” in the softest voice immediately established both relationships and my abiding love for her. She’s literally driving the plot but still not there much; 6/10.

1x02: she shares some LooksTM with Chris. Chris was slightly subdued at one (1) dinner party and Una went something is deeply wrong. Chris is sad and Una tells him to live his gosh darn life. Pretty sure she flies the ship a bit. She’s here. Can’t complain. 6/10.

1x03: OOOOHOHO here we go. Whatever camera angle it is that shoots from the floor to watch people walk away and makes them look tall was excellently utilized. Girl was STRIDING everywhere. Hauled a grown man over her shoulder and was greeted with the shock and awe she deserved. Told her biggest secret (!!!!) to help the crew!!! bc she would sacrifice herself for them!!!!! also she googled her glowworm episode like it had not happened her whole life (which I will accept as a writer thing. but she really looked at a picture of someone glowing bc of an infection and went 😮). Girlie managed a whole ship of sedated/crazy people and did not let anyone jump into the sun/warp core. Had a deep talk with La’an and revealed more of their shared history. Stunning. 10/10.

1x04 another case of I can’t complain. As my favorite character I want her to be happy, but I will take some internal bleeding and other catastrophic injuries. As a treat. The sheer power of ordering the medical staff to give away her blood transfusion and then knocking herself out before they could argue. Unparalleled. Had no impact on the main plot but what she did do in her sphere of influence was important and exemplary. I’ll take it. 7/10.

1x05: back at it again with the b-plot but I AM HERE FOR IT. GIVE ME LA’AN AND UNA BEING GOOFY. Loved the death glare at Joseph so he would confess and how she pretended not to be huffy about her nickname. La’an went can we… play a game… and Una went YEs sounds educational. For science. The look of absolute shock and betrayal when La’an shot her and her little “ow.” “People are idiots. You’re fun.” La’an went lol my childhood was a bleak horror scape and Una went absolutely NOT I’m going to commit crimes to rectify this. I like people having wacky misadventures while the plot is plotting somewhere. 8/10.

1x06 Chris forgot her name. She had to leave so she wouldn’t verbally tear him to shreds in front of his crew. Most likely explanation. Where was she I miss her. 4/10.

1x07: she locked the pirates out of the ship!!! We love a competent first officer shooting people on her bridge. She shook her head half an inch and Spock went absolutely whatever you say. Chris was thrown to the floor in front of her and she crossed her arms and watched him get up. “We’re starting a mutiny.” "Someone's breaking the rules today." Legitimately appreciated her teamwork with Chris in planting the mutiny idea. Would love to see it again sometime. 7/10.

1x08: bow and arrow. She checked on Joseph after and I appreciated that they carried that through from her finding out about Rukiya before. Una was here but she wasn't Una. Also. If we're real she wasn't really there. I liked the eye shadow though. 5/10.

1x09: "you should really try the omelet." The breakfast scene is my favorite and in fact the only scene. Nothing else happened with Hemmer or Spock or anyone. Really short episode. I would have liked to have seen her face when Chris snapped the tongs. She tried to follow the shuttle to the surface with scans and Chris went nah babe we're fine. Let her do her job Chris. Breakfast scene 10/10. Episode 5/10.

1x10: notable by her absence. She checked on Chris and once again told him to live his life. She's not there in the future but I won't take points for that because Chris immediately went where is my bestie. I cannot function without my work wife where is she. Her arrest kick-started the series and for our cliffhanger she was arrested again. I'm sensing a theme. What will they incarcerate her for next and how will Chris break her out this time. I will always appreciate Chris going absolutely feral for his first officer/life partner. 9/10.

2x01: prison. She tells Chris not to be stupid and he goes don't tell me what to do *cough* I love you *cough* Not a strong start for our girl but I trust her to overcome. Once again Chris is going off on a mission to save her. Lost points for the brevity of her appearance and the weird black jumpsuit. 4/10.

2x02: Girl sat in a chair and watched her friends say nice things about her for days. I would shrivel up and die. Una looks teary. Her lawyer put some heat on a guy who said he would NEVER hire Una if he knew her real race and Una said that was too mean leave him alone. La'an confessed her feelings in public. Spock gave the whole courtroom a heart attack to make Una smile. Chris hugged her looking panicky. please don't go away again. Una looked at Chris like she wanted to kiss him or perhaps sip one milkshake through two straws. The whole episode is about how great she is. 15/10.

2x03: unfortunately for most of this episode she did not exist. Liked the professional and sassy attitude towards Pelia but I must reduce points for Una not existing. 2/10.

2x04: Una succumbed to a disease she should canonically be immune to. Fridged almost immediately. Chris said I need some good fighters and took his doctor instead of his super strong first officer who was familiar with the terrain. Una called Chris out on relationship nonsense like the og she is but this cannot repair the damage. Drove me to writing fix-it fic. -10/10.

2x05: Una is canonically one of the girls. She hangs out with some very specific junior officers including her emotionally constipated son and her traumatized daughter. She laughs very loudly and I like to think the writers are purposefully making her more open now that people know her genetics secret. Tells Mr. Spock how to be a Vulcan. Part of a lineup to talk to Spock and is a head taller than the rest of the line. All in all a great time. 9/10.

2x06: she yells at her former professor who is also thousands of years old. I would simply perish. "yoU HaVe CruMBs oN yOuR uNifOrM" Starfleet said we need someone to get this defunct and thus far unmanageable station up and running. Send Una. "Oh good, I was afraid I'd miss the speech." Rebecca Romijn note- she is nine inches taller than Carol Kane, but she manages to look/act a lot younger and smaller than normal. Pelia takes about 14 seconds to get Una teary eyed. "My final paper was METICULOUSLY researched." 8/10.

2x07: "That's ridiculous, we can't just 'Not Look.'" "Like... a p i n - u p p o s t e r?" Girl is constantly baffled the whole time. One (1) young man was unnerved by her and she went he knows how I die. She then winked at him and he almost had a stroke. We see a picture of her as she is idolized in the future. Excellent. Different flavor than 2x06 but still 8/10.

2x08: lots of Significant Eye Contact with Chris. She said if you don't get this ship where it's going asap I will revoke your command and drive us there myself. "Everyone is on their own journey." I feel like she knows Joseph murdered a man in sickbay but we don't know for sure. She's out here being a competent first officer and telling the captain how the crew is feeling. I like the reminder of her priorities. Chris is here to explore and it's Una's job to make sure he has a functional crew to do so. 6/10.

2x09: Una Chin-Riley, musical theater nerd, had the absolute time of her life and I am so happy for her. Girl JUMPED into that first song with much soulful pushing of buttons. "A surprisingly beautiful baritone." Chris asked Uhura the singer how musicals work and Una answered. Is feeling her feelings so much these days she started singing about her job. Waltzed through the halls with James T Kirk. La'an went I would like to not do this please and Una said feel your feelings. Fly away with me. Accept yourself. Love yourself. "You came in here hot. On fire. It's making me sweat." The whole ship is singing and La'an is making friends. This was the best day of Una's life. 1000/10.

2x10: Una volunteered for a dangerous forbidden mission to save her husband's gf and spent the whole time stalking around the bridge like a tiger or a mom looking for sales at Target and giving hopeful speeches. She did tell Spock his gf might be dead but if you want to look for her go for it champ. "ORDERS CAPTAIN" Chris is hanging on by a thread. Una is the thread. Not a great end if I'm honest but she did look fantastic walking around murderously. 5/10.

[respectthepetty]

Hi RTP! What are the BLs you would recommend solely for the colors? 🌈

Anon, before I answer this great ask, I want to highlight other posts I've written that are slightly similar:

Reading the (Visual) Rainbow Awards 2023

Overall Winner - Kiseki: Dear to Me

Top Five - Color-Coded Storytelling in BLs

Honorable Mention: Oh No! Here Comes Trouble

5) Moonlight Chicken

4) My Beautiful Man

3) My Love Mix Up

2) Semantic Error

1) Big Dragon

Top Five Color Moments of 2023

Honorable Mention: 7 Days Before Valentine

5) GAP

4) Bed Friend

3) Last Twilight

2) Moonlight Chicken

1) The Eighth Sense

Bonus: Jeff Satur x SHAUN's "Steal the Show"

I don't want to repeat any of the shows I picked, and I'm trying to pick more recent ones so people can find them if they want to watch them, but per your ask, I'm recommending them based solely on colors regardless of how much I liked them.

Recommended Colorful BLs

Honorable Mention: Intern in My Heart

The show is not finished, and it's not a BL, yet it is doing everything right, which is why it gets the honorable mention. Great (Grey) is coded black/dark in the show, and Top is coded pink/light. They are supporting characters who are best friends, and they have stuck to their colors throughout, but in the last episode, they *almost* exchanged colors after Top revealed that he liked Great. Now I'm praying to all the saints for a full color exchange in the finale like I have a personal stake in this because I do! I'm invested, and it better not disappoint me.

#5 - One Room Angel

When I write "Heavenly Human" for a character who wears white, and "Black Brooder" for a character who wears black, THIS is what I mean. A story about an actual angel and a guy who wanted to die was the perfect place to use the light x dark dynamic. However, calling this show a BL is troublesome, which is why it's number five. It still is a great example of what the light x dark color scheme should be used for, and in the end, the guy who wanted to die is much lighter in mood and color, which is what the colors are all about.

#4 - Why R U? (Korea)

First and foremost, that kiss was LIT! The Thai version had Tutor and Fighter's high heat, which could never be matched, but Korea had that kiss, and it ate! But on top of that, it had colors! Ji Oh was a Black Brooder while Lee Won was a Multicolored Menace, and right after this kiss, they flipped colors. That's right! After five episodes of being enemies, they made out for acting "reasons," and then exchanged colors. Normally, Korea is all about the feelings, so the color exchanges in Korean BLs align with a character's feelings changing, but this one directly correlated with a kiss. And for emphasis - That kiss was fire!

#3 - Secret Crush on You

Destiny Seeker might have won the 2023 award for best group effort in color coding, but Secret Crush on You set the bar for that award the year before. This show is Color-Coding 101. Each character has a color, and by each, I mean each and every single damn character in a cast of eleven (plus three fairy godmothers) has their own color. That is a ridiculous feat! Wardrobe, props, and lighting deserved a raise for this show. Some shows can't even get consistent color coding when it only has two characters, but this show understood the color-coding group assignment for the entire series! I'm still applauding two years later.

#2 - Stay by My Side

Taiwanese BLs are my vice. Even the worst Taiwanese BL will still be better than the rest of these BLs. I WROTE WHAT I WROTE. So, of course, I liked this show beyond color reasons, but the colors greatly helped me enjoy the show even more. We had a guy who was haunted by ghosts. He was colorful and light coded. Then we had his roommate who could magically keep the ghosts away. He was dark coded. Read it again. The guy being haunted was bright, light, and colorful, while the guy with the power to help was dark. GENIUS! It was Mr. Unlucky Has No Choice but to Kiss with a supernatural twist. The dark coded guy is sad and isolated but the one who is being HAUNTED BY GHOSTS brings life to his world! Give me a minute. I'm still not over it.

#1 - Pit Babe

I watched this show muted and without subtitles, yet the colors guided me through all thirteen episodes. I understood the plot perfectly because of the colors, and only became confused when people tried to tell me about the actual plot. Alpha? Omega? Santa Maria? Wasn't important. Didn't matter. I don't know them. Red and Blue were the main characters here, and they did their damn job. Babe, in his black, was his own man. He wasn't trying to fit in, but every time the red light focused on Charlie and Way, I was screaming for Babe to run because the colors told me they were still tied to Tony BECAUSE THEY WERE! That's elite color coding, and it ushered in a whole new way for me to watch a show. I loved it.

Bonus: Old Fashion Cupcake

I love this show which is why it is a bonus. Unlike the other shows where I had issues with some part of the plot, Old Fashion Cupcake is as close to perfect as any show has ever come in my personal rating system. It is an Advanced Color Coding course only offered for graduate students, which, honestly, is very Japanese of it because it was in the ties. The color coding showed up in other ways, but the ties were where the story lived since in the past, Nozue was a bright red, but we saw his red damper in the present, which made his loyal assistant bluer. It was only five episodes, yet it used every second of those five episodes in every single way to propel the story forward, colors included. Actually, let me go rewatch this for the hundredth time instead of just writing about it!

[strongsadapologist]

StrongSadApologist Intro Post (New And Improved!)

(WIP updating somewhat frequently, for as long as I remember to update it. Fancy drawings to be added eventually!)

Basic Information:

Name: Dignan/Kenny Bismol

Pronouns: It/its or it/he, usually depending on mood

Labels: Rabid Fictoromantic

Birthday: January 3rd (19)

Current fixation (the biggest thing I won't shut up about): Homestar Runner

Lesser interests (some other things i really like, but am willing to shut up about): Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Baldi's Basics, Smiling Friends

Dormant interests (things I've fixated on before and am likely to return to if someone gets me back into it): Two More Eggs, UNDERTALE, The Stanley Parable, Garten Of Banban, Apple & Onion

Additional Notes:

I understand not every trans person is okay with people using it/its, so if you're trans and uncomfortable using it/its for me, feel free to use he/him exclusively!

I am a very big self-shipper! My F/Os are subject (and likely) to change depending on whatever I'm fixating on, but currently my biggest one is my OC/supervillain persona Yoinky and Strong Sad from Homestar Runner (if my username didn't already give that away, haha)! So, uh, I guess don't follow if you're uncomfy with any of that! I fully understand!

My blog will be SFW in terms of actual content, but I do swear sometimes (and sometimes often)! It's become a normal part of my vocabulary, so I usually don't even think about it; if this is an issue for you, please let me know and I'll make sure to watch my mouth (keyboard?) if talking to you directly!

I'm open to art requests being asked for alongside questions, but I'm still trying to get back into drawing regularly after a long period of not doing it, so it'll probably be a while before I do them consistently. But if you see something in my interests that we share and you want art of, feel free to ask! I'm more likely to do art of my interests but am open to just about anything!

I also write sometimes, and I mostly do either fanfiction or a mix of characters I like existing in a universe with my own OCs! I probably won't talk about my writing as often, as I'm not as open with sharing it, but I may occasionally share art pieces that correlate with my stories!

I might be potentially open to writing requests? But that feels slightly more complicated/easier to mess up, so I guess it's more case-by-case.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy and have a great rest of your day/night/now!

[learnyouabiology]

Fun Fact: Goldenrod does NOT cause seasonal allergies!

At this time of year, I am suffering from seasonal allergies (ಥ_ಥ). And in honor of these seasonal allergies, I’d like to clear the good name of an innocent plant which has long been blamed for seasonal allergies.

Ahem:

Goldenrod is INNOCENT!!!!!

(I love goldenrod (Solidago spp.) and WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS SLANDER)

Now, that isn’t to say that no one is allergic to goldenrod, at all. Some people are, indeed, allergic to this plant, but it is relatively rare and only cause reactions when direct physical contact takes place. These goldenrod allergies do NOT cause the stuffy noses and watery eyes that seasonal allergy sufferers are familiar with (and which I am currently suffering from 😭😭😭😭).

(an innocent bystander 😔)

“But wait!”, you may say, “Every year, without fail, seasonal allergies attack just as the goldenrod begins to bloom!” And this is a fair assumption! There are many times in life where the things we see are causing the things we experience. However, in this case, seasonal allergies and goldenrod flowers are connected by correlation, not causation.

How can I be so sure? Well, because goldenrod pollen is not airborne!

(they’re so good, so pure, so not-currently-attacking-my-airways)

Goldenrod is a plant which is pollinated by animals, primarily insects. Because of this, its pollen is big, heavy, delicious and can’t make it too far from the plant, even with a BIG gust of wind. Instead, an insect covered in goldenrod pollen will fly to a different goldenrod plant, transporting and delivering the pollen in a highly efficient manner, because that is where the plant intends for the pollen to go! Really, goldenrod pollen is unlikely to ever get into your nose (unless you sprinkle it in directly).

Instead, the culprit for your seasonal allergies is MUCH more likely to be an enemy you may have heard of: ragweed.

(*holds up sign that says “Audience Boos”*)

It just so happens that ragweed (Ambrosia spp.) and goldenrod (Solidago spp.) both bloom around the same time, and in the same sorts of environments.

Goldenrod is bright yellow and extremely conspicuous, while ragweed.... well, it doesn’t exactly jump out, visually:

(I circled and labelled them because the ragweed doesn’t exactly… pop out of the picture. ©Janet Allen)

People notice their allergies and then notice the highly conspicuous goldenrod, and they consider the mystery solved. Meanwhile the ragweed remains, hidden in plain sight and the TRUE guilty party.

Ragweed is my eternal enemy the most common cause of seasonal allergies in North America. One reason for that is because ragweed, rather than being pollinated by insects, is instead pollinated via wind, which basically means the plants produce a LOT of very tiny, airborne pollen (about a billion particles per plant), and just hopes that one lands on a different ragweed plant eventually, travelling up to 600 km away. Unfortunately for allergy sufferers, the vast majority of the pollen does not make it to another plant  and apparently ends up in my nose instead.

(things that do cause my allergies: ragweed, horses, and mold spores. Things that do NOT cause my allergies: goldenrod.)

Now, I am being a little bit mean to ragweed here, but in my defence, I cannot currently breathe through my nose as a direct result of ragweed, and it has put me in a mean sort of mood (ಠ╭╮ಠ). this is my villain origin story.

That said, I would be remiss not to mention that ragweed is native to North America (although they are VERY invasive in many other places in the world), and so it...  I’m sure... that ragweed... it contributes... to the ecosystem... somehow... and we should respect it... instead of assigning... subjective value judgements... to nature (I say, shaking, crying, visibly pained).

(a bumblebee (Bombus sp.) enjoying some goldenrod 🥰)

Goldenrod, on the other hand, is native to North America and is ONE OF MY FAVOURITE THINGS, simply because pollinators LOVE these flowers! I can sit for literal HOURS at a single plant, watching the dozens of different pollinators coming and going. It is also invasive in many other places in the world but THIS ISN’T ABOUT THAT 😭😉😉😉

This has been Fun Fact Friday, where I will defend the honour of goldenrod with my life!

(also: guys there are SO MANY pictures of goldenrod on the internet mislabeled as ragweed, it’s actually blowing my mind. Stock image sites are particularly terrible about this. THE WORLD NEEDS TO KNOW THE TRUTH.)

[writtenvisionary]

Rooftop Riddles

Read on Ao3

WC: 5.1k

Summary: One riddle changes everything. Dramatic identity reveal, oneshot, ladynoir/adrienette | trigger warning - depression, self-harm, abuse/neglect

The breeze was nothing short of refreshing as she sat next to her partner in crime. He was silent for the time being, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he would start saying something stupid. So she took in her surroundings while there was still silence between them.

It was dark; street lights illuminated all of Paris. Shadows bounced from wall to wall as civilians took their nightly walks, either from work or just around the block to get some fresh, cool air before they go to sleep. There are also those pathetically trudging toward their place of employment for their overnight shifts, and Marinette felt for them. Being Ladybug was all too taxing on her, and she often felt like she worked 24 hours, but in reality it was just all of the extra exercise that made her so exhausted every day.

Looking over at Chat Noir, she takes in his appearance. His hunched back, drooped cat ears, slow breaths. He’s looking straight ahead, seemingly lost in his own train of thought. Her eyebrows furrow.

She opens her mouth to speak, but her partner beats her to it.

“Wanna hear a riddle?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Okay. What do you call a sad watermelon?”

Ladybug had to think. Biting her bottom lip, she pondered an answer.

“Um... I don’t know, what?”

“Melon-choly.”

A smile lit up her face.

“Oh!” She laughed.

“Here’s another. It’s kinda long, so get ready.”

She nods, shifting in her seat.

“A single father took care of his baby, and he was rich so the baby had a lot. Food, clothes, excessive stuff. What didn’tthe baby have?”

Marinette frowns, some weird feeling rushing through her veins. She sits up, narrowing her eyes at the boy clad in a black leather suit. He sits with his legs pulled up to his chest, looking straight forward. Not even a tiny upward lift of his lips, making her worry.

Something about the way he delivered that riddle was… ominous. It didn’t seem like he was disconnected from the story he was telling. It’s almost like he could relate.

She gulps.

“A mother?”

He nods, then hangs his head for a moment before pulling it back up and flashing an obviously fake smile in her direction.

“Bingo,” he says dryly.

Her frown deepens.

Why did that riddle sound like something personal? Is he rich?

That sounds like someone she knows. And the riddle boy’s mother was gone… that sounded like him too.

No, there’s no correlation. It’s just a random riddle.

“Alright, last one.”

“Okay,” she nods.

“I am twisted from what I was, to hold the weight of others. Yet tie a knot, and my use to this world is gone.”

Her heart plummets down into her stomach. She loses her breath and has to look back at the city of Paris to think.

If it was possible, this riddle sounded scarier than the last. Chat Noir must really be in a bad mood because normally he puns, not riddles, and the jokes he tells are stupid and funny. These are just... depressing. Her concern is growing by the minute.

She needs to give an answer.

Twisted… Hold the weight of others… Tie a knot… My use to this world is gone.

Tie a knot? What?

“I—“ she licks her lips and shakes her head.

“I’m at a loss. I don’t know.”

Chat hesitates before whispering the answer.

“A noose.”

Her eyes widen and she suddenly feels like she’s been punched in the face.

“Just kidding, it’s a paperclip.”

But he didn’t seem like he was kidding. She was officially scared.

“Chat, you’re worrying me.”

“What do you call a dead pine tree?”

“Chat.”

“A never-green.”

“Minou, I —“

“What do you call a broken pencil?”

“Chat Noir.”

“Pointless,” he laughs darkly.

“Chat Noir!”

Finally, he looks over at her and her mouth falls agape.

His complexion is so pale, lips are pressed into a thin line, and his eyes are glistening.

“What?” He asks, voice breaking on the word.

Carefully, she places her hands on either side of his face. She stares directly into his eyes.

“You’re worrying me,” her voice shakes. “Please tell me whatever’s making you upset so I can help.”

“… I-I’m not upset.”

“Kitty. You just told me a riddle about a noose.”

He shakes his head, scrunching his eyebrows.

“It was a paperclip, milady. Can’t you appreciate a good joke?”

“Chat, all of the jokes you’ve cracked tonight have been nothing short of depressing.”

Frowning, he pulls away from her hold, avoiding her gaze.

“So? New to dark humor?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “But that’s not normally the humor you have, Chaton.”

He’s quiet for a couple seconds before responding.

“Just wanted to try something different—“

“I’m not going to take these bullshit excuses, you know?”

Chat Noir raises an eyebrow, not used to such language coming from his lady.

“They’re not excuses—“

“YES they are!”

She softens her voice.

“Please,” she begs. “Talk to me.”

It’s almost as if she didn’t say anything, how he continues to stare into the distance, silently appreciating the view of Paris. She follows suit, not knowing what else to say. Instead, she decides to wait it out. Hopefully he’ll talk. Eventually.

And he does.

“My mother died about a year ago.”

Her jaw slackens, but she stays silent.

“Father has always been very… strict. But lately he’s been putting a lot on me. Stuff that… stuff that a normal, average sixteen-year old shouldn’t have to put up with,” he sighs.

He calls his dad father? The only other person who does that is…

Alarms go off in her head.

“He makes me take so many lessons beyond school. Chinese, fencing, piano— and he didn’t even let me go to public school until four months ago. I was homeschooled by my father’s assistant, I mean she’s a good family friend—“

Wait.

“And the only friend that was ever allowed over was the mayor’s daughter, and she’s snobby and hangs off of me like I’m her fucking property when I’m NOT and—“

Chloé?

“Father doesn’t even have dinner with me. I mean, maybe once every two months if I get lucky—“

Her eyes widen. He couldn’t be…

“But most of the time it’s just me and the family friend, and she’s not even eating! She’s looking over my schedule to make sure it’s as jam-packed as it was the day before. I swear I never get a break.

“Sometimes it feels like Father is always disappointed in me, no matter what I do. I feel like I’m trapped in his bubble, like I can’t get out. My house is like a fortress. Or a prison. Being Chat Noir is my escape but I just… It’s getting to be too much, milady.

“I don’t know how much more I can take.”

She feels like she lost her voice. Her brain is on overdrive.

If all the pieces are adding up, my akuma-fighting partner is also my crush who is also a world famous model and—

Focus, Marinette.

“It sounds stressful, A— uh, Chat.”

He intakes a sharp breath.

“Did I say too much?”

She bites her lip. Yes.

“No?”

It comes out as a question. He must suspect that she’s lying.

He tilts his head in admission, then looks down.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Um… I’ll always be here for you. You know that, right?”

Slowly, Chat Noir—Adrien—meets her gaze once again.

His response was hesitant. “Yeah.”

She has to sigh; she doesn’t seem to be getting through to him.

“Minou, you are loved and wanted and I want to make sure you know that.”

Chat Noir chews his bottom lip.

“Thanks, bugaboo.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, just peering down at the streets of their city. She wants to ask him more questions because it seems like there’s more he’s not telling her, but decides against it. She doesn’t expect him to tell her everything, especially since opening up that much was already hard enough for him (and she really shouldn’t have been able to figure out his identity because danger! but she supposes she’ll forgive him since he’s literally the love of her life and he needs someone to be there for him either way).

A small movement in the corner of her eye catches her attention. She looks in Chat’s direction, noting how he’s holding a hand over his left wrist. Her frown deepens. It’s not like she wants him to notice that she’s staring, but she can’t look away. Warily, she watches his face twist in pain.

“Does your wrist hurt, kitty?”

He startles, but shakes his head.

“It’s good.”

“But,” she challenges, “you’re holding it. Looks like it hurts…”

Chat Noir clenches his teeth, turning to look at his lady with fire in his eyes.

“I said it’s good, Ladybug. Leave it.”

Marinette flinches at the use of her superhero name instead of one of his usual nicknames for her. His tone is uncharacteristically harsh, as well.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

The last thing she wants to do is upset him more.

She clears her throat, at a loss for words. The atmosphere had suddenly turned tense and she wasn’t fully enjoying his presence anymore. Of course, he wasn’t dangerous or anything, but she really didn’t want him to snap at her again.

Ladybug likes a happy kitten, not a bitter one.

She wishes she knew what to do.

“Well,” Chat speaks. “I gotta head out; get back home before my father’s assistant notices I’m gone and I get taken out of school.”

He stands, getting ready to extend his baton and hop from building to building for as long as possible in order to procrastinate his return to the large, lonely mansion where he resides.

Ladybug hops up so quickly that her head spins, but she ignores it in hope of saying one last thing before he leaves.

“Hey, Chaton?”

Said cat boy looks in her direction, letting her know that he’s listening.

Instead of speaking, she just leans forward to press her lips onto his cheek. When she pulls away, she offers a smile.

“You and me against the world.”

He plasters a (fake) grin onto his face, “Thanks, bugaboo. See you later.”

Then he bolts away, leaving his Lady alone on a rooftop.

Life had gone on as normal for both Adrien and Marinette. For the next two weeks, the superhero pair had not spoken about Chat’s home life or his internal struggles. She wanted to give him some space and he simply wanted to forget that he even showed so much vulnerability around her.

Granted, Adrien didn’t care that she knew. In fact, he was pretty happy that she had been willing to listen. Usually she never allowed rants from the either of them because she knew that it was easy to slip up and say something that could lead an unwarranted identity reveal.

Marinette wanted to talk to him, come to a mutual agreement, and then officially tell each other who they were. She knew it was unfair that she knew and wasn’t telling him, but in all honesty, she wasn’t even sure her suspicions are right.

(She’s ninety-nine percent sure).

Her eyes had been on Adrien for those two weeks, subtly checking to make sure that there weren’t bags under his eyes (there were), that his smiles weren’t forced (they were), and that he was eating enough (she had no way of knowing, but he hadn’t asked for a macaron in a few days and she was starting to get worried).

He was doing somewhat alright, from what she could tell. She didn’t expect to see anything different today.

Boy, was she wrong.

She had been passing out papers to the class regarding their next class trip, explaining that they needed a parent signature, as well as forty-two Euros by next Monday, in order to attend. When she reached Adrien, she paused.

He was rubbing at his left wrist — the same wrist that Chat had been holding in pain that night two weeks ago. His face was contorted painfully; familiarly. This brought about her worries.

Subtly, she placed down the papers in front of him, to which he looked up at her and sent an oh so fake smile in thanks.

As she walked away, Marinette just barely caught a glimpse of some red, scratch-like marks on his skin as he picked the paper up.

Her heart dropped.

She hadn’t realized that him holding his wrist earlier was a sign of self-harm. Apparently he was worse off than she thought. Now, it’s a whole different ball game — one that can’t have secret identities interfering with. She has no choice; she needs to stay in contact with him.

He needs to be okay.

Marinette tried to wait until patrol that night. Really, she did. But she couldn’t resist zipping over to his house and knocking at his window right after his fencing practice had ended.

He jumps at the sound, quickly ushering Plagg to hide in his shirt, before turning around to look at the super-heroine.

“Hi, Ladybug!” He greets with a smile. “Anything I can help you with today?”

She takes that as an invitation to leap into his room, then she allows her yoyo to snap close as she lands in front of him.

Her hands stay in fists as she brings them up to rest at either side of her waist. She grins brightly in his direction.

“Hi, kitty!”

It’s almost comical how his smile drops.

“What?”

In lieu of a response, she drops her arms to rest at her side. Then she takes a few steps forward so that she’s standing much closer to him.

“Your father is strict… he has an assistant… he makes you take piano, fencing, Chinese lessons…”

His eyes widen slowly as she speaks, his heart beating erratically.

Ladybug scoffs, “Honestly, Adrien? You couldn’t have been more obvious.”

He gulps in horror.

Then he narrows his eyes.

“How did you know that Adrien Agreste takes Chinese lessons? I’ve never once mentioned that in an interview…”

She stiffens.

“Uh. B-because you told me before.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“As Chat,” she supplies.

The model scoffs, “I’m not Chat Noir.”

Ladybug shrugs, beginning to stroll around his room.

“Okay. So why did I see you rub your wrist in class today, hm?”

Now it’s Adrien’s turn to stiffen.

“Y-y-you’re in my class? What?” He asks incredulously.

“Yes. I’m the class president.”

She says it so confidently that it scares her. He’s sure to figure it out by now. She can’t look at him as he comes to the realization.

“But my class president is Marinette— wait.”

He huffs, smirking.

“Are you Marinette?”

Finally she casts her gaze in his direction.

“In the flesh.”

She watches as his eyes light up. He approaches her with a smile.

“Oh my god. Wait, then I’m totally okay admitting I’m Chat Noir.”

Her eyebrow raises, “Oh yeah? And if I was, say, Chloé… would you have admitted it?”

He immediately shakes his head.

Ladybug doesn’t even try to stifle her laugh.

“Spots off.”

Adrien watches in amazement as a magical, pink light engulfs her entire body, leaving Marinette Dupain-Cheng standing in his bedroom.

When she’s out of the Miraculous, the first thing Tikki does is call Plagg.

“Plagg, get out here! I need to talk to you!”

Plagg phases through Adrien’s over-shirt and glares at his counterpart.

“Well hello to you too, Sugarcube!”

The other side of the room is then occupied by two magical creatures, allowing for Adrien and Marinette to have some time alone.

An awkward tension fills the air for the first couple moments, as the two recently-outed superheroes stare at each other, letting everything sink in.

Adrien is the first to speak.

“Wow, uh… wow.”

Marinette only nods, unable to comment on his reaction as she is overflowing with concern.

“Adrien, we have to talk.”

His eyes dim and his lips curve downwards. He nods, hanging his head.

“Yeah,” he whispers, “we do.”

He leads her over to the couch and gestures for her to sit down. Then he gets situated right next to her, positioning his hands on his knees. Marinette takes a deep breath.

“So… I saw the scars in class today.”

She shifts her eyes to his left wrist, uncovered and visibly scarred. He follows her eyes, frowning when he meets their destination.

Adrien simply hums, staring at the abused skin but not saying a word.

“Why?” Marinette whispers.

He shrugs.

“I’m fine. It’s just… Chat Noir gives me freedom, but sometimes it’s not enough. I promise I don’t do it that often.”

“The amount of times you do it doesn’t matter, kitty, it’s the fact that you do.”

“What do you care anyway?” He scoffs. “You weren’t paying me much attention before I was in a sour mood that day.”

“I’ve always cared, Adrien. Always. Just because I’m super level-headed doesn’t mean that I don’t pay attention. I notice when you’re sad. I do. This time you were really worrying me, though, so I spoke up.”

Adrien rolls his eyes, “And it didn’t occur to you that maybe I wanted you to ask how I was feeling all those other times I was sad?”

She quiets at that.

“I mean, I understand that you don’t want to get in my way, but I appreciate people caring, Marinette. It means a lot to me. I feel like, if I never gave away too much information, you would still be assuming things about me. Things like, oh he’s okay because he’s loud and cocky and cracks jokes all the time — maybe it’s just a bad day.”

He shakes his head, allowing a bitter laugh to escape his raw throat.

“Every day is a bad day, Mari. I’m just a good fucking actor.”

Marinette soaks in every word like a sponge, letting each and every one hit her right where it hurts, because it’s true. He is a good actor; she’s not good at understanding the script.

I’m sorry, she wants to say. The words dance on the tip of her tongue.

He’s not finished, though.

“I want the world to suffer some days, you know? I want everyone to feel just as pressured and exploited as I have been for basically my entire life. I want all my friends with a good family to see what it’s like to live in this large mansion, with their father closed away in his room, never to be seen again by his own son who just wants him to say I love you.”

When had he started crying?

Well, the tears are flowing and he can’t stop the river now. Not when he has more to say.

“I have the power of destruction wrapped around my finger, Marinette.”

His lip trembles.

“You should be glad that I haven’t tried to Cataclysm any houses, or street lights, or cars, or busses, or-or-or—“

He breaks.

He meant to keep going — to finish his sentence — but he breaks.

There’s not much more that Marinette can do, other than pull him into her arms and whisper soothing words of reassurance as he sobs uncontrollably.

She rubs his back, softly shh-ing him as he lets it all out of his system. She allows him to drown for the time being, all while reassuring that she’ll be there to pull him back to shore.

Each one of his sniffles was a subtle reminder that she was there for him; that no matter if his father comes around to finally paying him some attention, or not, he will always have her shoulder to cry on. Simultaneously, though, her heart twists at how unhealthily he’s been dealing with the trauma.

She had heard stories upon stories of teenagers resorting to self-harm because they had no other outlet, and she had been so thankful that no one she knew had taken those measures. Now, a statistic has become personal. She would be lying if she said that she knew how to handle it.

But she knew that no matter the circumstance, it had to be dealt with.

That meant getting her crush some professional help. A therapist, some medication, and plenty of cuddles. (Cuddles arescientifically proven to relieve anxiety, right? It’s a professional technique).

A quiet sniffle breaks her out of her thoughts. She glances down at Adrien as he slightly pulls away from her hold, eyes red and puffy.

Maybe that can all be dealt with later.

She ruffles his hair.

“Let’s go get some ice cream, yeah?”

Adrien peers up at her in confusion.

She just smiles and wriggles out of their position on his couch, then stands up with her hands on her hips.

“Ice cream always cheers me up. We definitely have to talk more about this later, among other things, but I can’t bear to see you sad any longer. So let’s go!”

The left corner of his mouth perks up, albeit only for a mere second.

“My father—“

“To hell with you father,” Marinette reaches down to grab his hand and hoists him up from the couch.

“We are going to get ice cream whether he likes it or not. You need to do what makes YOU happy, ‘kay?”

He concedes.

After ice cream, they return to the bakery and consult with Tom and Sabine. It had taken a lot of convincing on Marinette’s part to get Adrien to agree, but from there began the journey of his recovery.

They explained his home situation and mental health struggles in full, only leaving out the part about them fighting akumas. Both adults had immediately started searching for a good therapist (and lawyer) that would help Adrien get on the right track.

In the end, Adrien was glad that they had told her parents. Their concern for him and dedication to his cause filled his heart with long lost hope and parental love. It had been so long since he felt cared for. And now that he’s felt it once again, he’s not ready to let it go.

Thank goodness the Dupain-Chengs’ weren’t going to let him go so easily.

It was a unanimous decision that, until he feels comfortable going back to the mansion, he would stay. He didn’t want to burden them, but they insisted. So he had no choice but to accept the offer.

Before he even knew it, another two weeks had passed. A new routine was broken in by the members of the D.C. household — Marinette was getting real annoyed with Adrien’s constant comparisons of her last name initials to Marvel (her father had taken a liking to his puns, however, so now she just lived in constant pain) — and suddenly it was like he had always been there.

His first therapy session wasn’t great. He was riddled with anxiety (no pun intended) and Doctor Benson was too nice for his liking. Well, it wasn’t that he didn’t like it. It was just so off-putting, considering he wasn’t used to being treated with such kindness even by his own father.

Doctor Benson told him that a lot of the things he’s been experiencing aren’t normal, but his response to that trauma is. At first he had been confused when he was told that his father was emotionally neglectful and verbally abusive. He didn’t understand what his father was doing wrong. Once Doctor Benson explained that, “Abuse is a violent, repetitive behavior that has a negative mental, emotional, and/or physical impact on the victim,” it became more clear.

It’s still a concept that he’s getting used to — that he’s a victim of abuse. The thought makes his skin crawl and a shiver run up his spine because he never considered himself to be part of a statistic. Now that he knows he is, he’s not sure what to do.

Marinette keeps telling him, “Even agreeing to go to therapy is a huge step in the right direction, and I’m so proud of you.” Then she goes on to tell him just how special he is to her and how important him and his life is and all of this crap about how he’s worth more than he thinks.

He has to believe her, too, because she’s the one that found him at his worst and instead of judging him, picked him off the ground and took initiative. She’s the one that brought him to her parents, helped him hide from his father, and even got him a part-time job at the bakery. It’s only temporary until he is able to access his earnings, but he will admit that he likes it way better than modeling; that had just been because his father wanted him to, anyways.

Everyone tells him time and time again that he should not be living for his father. He wants to disagree, because that’s what he’s been conditioned to do for so long, but he ultimately chooses not to. Because they’re right; he’s a young adult who should have the freedom to make his own decisions.

In the end, if he’s not happy, there’s always more opportunities. He knows that now.

And there’s no better way to figure out what he wants than to explore, and reach out for help.

A black cat and a ladybug sat atop a roof.

Marinette has her head tucked into the crook of her partner’s neck, eyes closed as she feels the wind blow past her. Adrien’s head lays on top of hers’ and eyes are trained on the full moon above them.

It had been a long day; one akuma attack and three tests, plus their friends wanted to hang out. Exhaustion had taken over hours before, and sleep was creeping up on them. They cherish the view of Paris at night while it lasts, before they have to go home and do it all again the next day.

When she lifts her head to look at her favorite kitty, she’s relieved to see a soft smile resting on his features.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

He glances at her before turning back to the stars, then hesitates.

“Can I tell you a riddle?”

Her face pales and stomach plummets.

“N-no, I don’t want to play this game again.”

“I promise its a good one, nothing too sad.”

They lock eyes. She can tell there is sincerity within those dark green orbs, so she reluctantly nods.

Adrien licks his lips, not breaking his gaze.

“I visit you every night, even if you don’t call me. I’m lost every day. What am I?”

Jokingly, she wants to say “Chat Noir” but their identities are known now, and she sees him every day (so, admittedly, it wouldn’t be that good of a joke). Then she looks up at the sky and she has her answer.

“The stars,” she whispers.

She’s not looking at him, but she can almost hear his smile widen. So she looks back to him, because she loves to see her kitty happy.

Sure enough, a grin — genuine, not forced — is playing on his lips. It’s human nature to copy social expressions, so she lets her mouth curve into a matching grin.

Then she leans in.

Their smiles fade as they inch closer, focused on the next task at hand. His gaze drops to her pink lips, and she stares into his eyes. She can see the thirst, the want, but she can also see his hesitance.

Experimentally, she pauses to see if he’ll close the gap, but he simply stops in accordance with her. She wants this so bad, but he’s very shy when it comes to romance; despite being so outwardly confident as Chat Noir.

He had told her that it was a mask to hide how scared he truly was. His advances towards her were genuine, although deep down, he was afraid of rejection (to which she will forever feel guilty for putting him through). He wanted to break his façade sometimes, but he chose not to for the sake of not worrying her. The media might have noticed his change in behavior, too; granted, he never cared what the public thought of him anyways.

So, to save them both the trouble, she takes the leap and closes the gap, capturing his lips in a fluid movement.

It’s pure ecstasy; electricity pulses through his veins, but at the same time… he’s calm. He’s not sure how to describe the feeling, in all honesty. It’s just perfect.

Well, not perfect, he corrects himself. Enjoyable, but not perfect.

They don’t move in perfect sync and his lips are chapped so she’s probably wondering why the heck are his lips so dry?and her mouth keeps opening and he isn’t sure if it’s a mistake or if he should do something but he’s not ready for the tongue yet, and so their heads are tilting at an awkward angle trying to make sense of the situation —

— but she smells like pastries and her lips are so soft and he can’t help but crack his eyes open because she is so beautiful in every single way oh my god I love her and nothing makes this better than cupping her face with his right hand and feeling just how smooth her skin is which calms him immensely and he just doesn’t want this to end.

When they finally pull away, with heavy breaths and big smiles, little giggles and red cheeks… he’s happy.

Maybe he’s not perfect. Neither is she. Nobody is, and Adrien is just starting to understand that.

Years of conditioning is hard to unlearn, but he is so grateful to have a support system he can count on. Marinette’s parents honorarily adopting him as one of their own, Doctor Benson offering coping mechanisms he hadn’t even known existed, his bodyguard protecting him from the  father  sperm donor he’s still afraid to talk to (one day soon, he’ll have to, but he’s planning on crossing that bridge when he gets there), Ms. Bustier’s unwavering faith in his abilities, and his friends’ insistence that he is more than enough — all of this support is overwhelming, to say the least, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Most importantly, there’s Marinette. She has been his rock for the past three years and it’s more true now than it ever was. She is family, in every sense of the word.

“Hey, Mari?” He says quietly, breaking the silence.

“Yes, Chaton?”

The nickname rolls off her tongue in a teasing manner, and he has to laugh.

“Thank you.”

“Always.”

[darkblueboxs]

Heatwave

For the #aftgsummer event

Prompt: Hot Day

Read here or on AO3 (Check AO3 notes for content warnings)

*

“It’s hot,” Neil says. He shakes the air con so hard the screws rattle, and when that fails to achieve the desired response, he smacks it. “It’s too damn hot. Come on”

Andrew watches from his beanbag, which he has not moved from since he staggered into the living room hours prior. The leathery material is sticking to his back, and he can feel sweat pooling at the base of his spine, but he suspects that any attempt to leave the soft cocoon would result in half his skin being pulled off. Besides, he has no desire to move, not when Neil is putting on such an entertaining spectacle. 

Neil doesn’t get hot and bothered often, not in the emotional sense. He had the kind of upbringing that taught him to swallow down everything from mild inconvenience to full-on catastrophe, so the rare occasions when he does indulge in petty irritations are a sight to behold. He’s still, against all logic, wearing his usual shitty jorts and long-sleeved shirt, pacing around the dorm like a tiger in a cage. Andrew has heard of studies on the correlation between weather, mood and behaviour – snow, for instance, was supposedly a hair-trigger for certain types of meltdown, while riots and revolutions were more likely to occur during heatwaves. Andrew can believe that; Neil seems to be only a few degrees short of storming the pentagon. With the pavements outside turning to steaming slabs of suntrap tar, running outdoors is no longer a practical option. At least, not for any sane person. Andrew had kindly persuaded Neil to return his running shoes to their place by the door with a few creative notes about all the places he could hide Neil’s sunburned, heatstroke-ridden corpse.

Giving up on the temperamental air conditioner, Neil resorts to kneeling in front of the open fridge door. The expression he makes as the cool air washes over him is borderline pornographic. A bead of sweat rolls down the back of his neck before slipping out of sight below the hem of his shirt.

“Juice,” says Andrew.

“Huh?”

In lieu of repeating himself, he makes grabby hands at the orange juice in the fridge door until Neil gets the point. Instead of hunting for a glass, he tosses Andrew the entire carton. Andrew has many disparaging things to say about Neil’s intelligence, but he does have his moments.

After draining the carton in a minute flat, Andrew chucks the empty container at the bin, pretending not to be annoyed when he misses. Neil leans forward as though to pick it up, but as soon as he leaves the radius of the fridge he slumps as though the returning heat has drained all of the energy from his body. “I’m going insane,” he says. He stretches for the carton, accidently knocks it further away, and gives up, rolling onto his back. “Andrew,” he groans. It’s a particular kind of groan, one designed to catch Andrew’s attention, and it works. “Andrew, it’s too hot.”

“Do I control the weather?” Andrew replies.

Neil groans again, shifts, and there’s a sticky-things-becoming-unstuck kind of noise as Neil peels himself off the linoleum. “How are you still wearing black? In this?”

“You’re wearing a long-sleeved shirt.”

“I’m covering scars.”

“From who?”

Neil shrugs. “People might come.”

Andrew’s eyes flick to the door. They have been mercifully undisturbed for most of the morning, and the schedules of their roommates that he unintentionally memorised say that they should be left to themselves for the afternoon too. But only should.

Andrew pulls himself out of the beanbag. The sensation is not pleasant. “Come on.”

Neil blinks up at him from the floor. “Hnnn?”

Andrew shuts the fridge door. “Move.”

Even parked under the shade of the tree, the Maseretti is so unbearably stuffy that Andrew considers turning around and giving up then and there. Neil swears as the scorching metal clasp of the seatbelt catches his arm, and it takes a solid minute of mirror adjustments for Andrew to find angles that won’t bounce sunlight directly into his eyes. Soon, however, they are pulling onto the motorway, windows rolled down and the A/C on full blast. Neil’s complaints that the open windows will defeat the purpose of the A/C are duly ignored.

The house in Columbia is no cooler than the dorm, but it has curtains, and a lockable door, and privacy.

Neil watches quizzically as Andrew tugs the living room curtains closed. The faintest tease of a breeze toys with them, while the sunlight hammering unsuccessfully at the other side of the obnoxious turquoise fabric casts cooling blue hues across the floor. “Andrew?” he says by way of query.

“People won’t come here.”

Neil snorts. “There’s easier ways of getting me out of my clothes, you know.”

“That isn’t what I was trying to do.”

“Then what were you trying to do?”

“Shut you up.”

“There’s easier ways of doing that, too.” Neil smiles, heading towards the kitchen as he pulls his shirt over his head. A moment later, there’s a clink as the fridge door opens, followed by a sigh. “Nothing but beer.”

“I’ll shop.”

Neil agrees with a distant grunt; Andrew suspects he has been caught in the hypnotic cool of another refrigerator like a mesmerised anglerfish meal. He leaves Neil with his newfound love and returns half an hour later with most of a supermarket freezer section under his arm. He finds Neil stretched out on the couch, stripped down to his underwear and blankly watching sports commentators bicker on the television. They’re discussing baseball, which speaks volumes to the depth of Neil’s boredom.

Andrew allows himself a moment to take in the sweat-slick stretch of Neil’s body before the condensation seeping into his top reminds him of the soon-to-be-melted goods waiting to be stored. He returns from the kitchen with a bottle of water which he all but forces down Neil’s throat. Neil pulls himself upright as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling in that faintly surprised way of his that prompts Andrew to re-evaluate every decision which brought him to this infuriating man. Andrew leans across him to steal the remote, carefully ignoring the heat radiating off Neil’s exposed torso as he does so. The rare, scar-free stretches of skin are flushed a few shades darker than usual, and the blush spreads all the way across Neil’s chest and neck, right up into his hairline.

Andrew flicks the television off. “Boring.”

Neil huffs, but doesn’t fight him on it. They finish their drinks in silence.

“You don’t have to cover up either, if you don’t want to,” Neil says eventually. “I can go somewhere else if you need me to.”

Andrew considers the idea, turns it around and considers from another angle, weighs the pros and cons and risk and reward, and decides, fine. He pulls his shirt off – a thin, cotton tank which he didn’t realise was such a weight until the weight was gone – and dumps his armbands on the floor beside it. Surprise flashes across Neil’s features before he carefully moves his gaze back to the blank TV screen.

“Neil,” Andrew says. Neil hums, but doesn’t turn, so Andrew catches his chin and turns him to face him. “You can look.”

“Oh,” says Neil, and his eyes drop to Andrew’s chest. “You don’t mind?”

“Not today. Not with you.”

“Oh,” Neil says, and his eyes roam carefully over the flat of Andrew’s chest, then down towards his abdomen, catching on the faint blond curls that trail downwards from his navel. His gaze is slow and studious like a scholar memorizing an ancient manuscript, admiring yet respectful. Andrew never liked being looked at before Neil, but perhaps it was only because no one else looked at him the way Neil did.

Neil keeps his hands fisted in the couch fabric as Andrew kisses him, which is as frustrating as it is endearing. Neil’s skin tastes of sweat and shitty dollar-store shower gel, and Andrew all but licks it off him.

Neil mutters something. Andrew pulls back. “What?”

“I said,” Neil says, “It’s hot.”

“I still don’t control the weather.”

“Not what I meant,” he says, and when Andrew guides his hands to the yeses and the nos of his exposed skin, Neil is quick to catch on.

Somewhere between the couch and the shower and the couch again, the last of the cabin-fever tension leaves Neil’s body. They chew through tubs of ice-cream, limbs splayed around each other but not quite touching - because any skin-to-skin contact outwith the allure of sex is just too damn sticky - and eventually the sunlight gives up on battering at the curtains as the sun collapses on the horizon.

“Do you have measurements for the fridge?” Neil asks vaguely.

“Why?”

“I was thinking, if I removed all the shelves, I would probably fit inside.”

“Hmm.” Andrew drops his spoon into the empty tub. “Another potential hiding place for your corpse.”

“I still say there’s easier ways of shutting me up,”

“Perhaps,” Andrew acknowledges. Neil’s answering smile shines brighter than the sun.

*

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought :)

[theshinobiway]

Cuddling with Members of Team Guy

Might Guy

Ø  Cuddlebot Master 2000

Ø  Guy’s favorite times to cuddle are often early in the morning before he gets up for training or right after dinner when you all are usually spending quality time together.

Ø  The first time you ever cuddled was probably when you fell asleep on him that one time while watching the sunset after a long day. He put an arm around you and was glad to let you stay there until you woke up. Was he sore from staying still for so long? Yes. Worth it.

Ø  He’ll keep a firm but gentle grip on you and hold you close, but if you all are chatting and he gets really excited or happy about something he’ll give you the occasional death squeeze.

Ø  If you say something really cute or endearing to him he’ll cover your face with kisses and you’ll get another death squeeze.

Ø  He puts off a decent amount of body heat and he’s super chill about you putting cold limbs on him (if you do get cold easily) but he’ll playfully yelp if you do to tease you.

Ø  Loves saying little things to tease you and will immediately give you long hugs afterwards

Ø  Loves extended body contact, will find excuses to hold you whenever you’re around the house or he gets the chance.

Ø  Will put his arm around you when he gets the chance, even in public

Ø  Falling asleep with Gai usually looks like your head on his chest or in the crook of his shoulder with his arm around you, his other side will be completely splayed out starfish-style.

Ø  Gai usually sleeps in the starfish position, but he gladly modifies his position to accommodate you

Ø  If you cuddle on the couch you’ll likely be pulled into his lap and both of his arms will be around you at all times. The optimal position for more intimate cuddling, if you catch my drift.

Ø  Literally down to cuddle 24/7. Will find a way to cuddle while training with you. May also use cuddling as his personal reward for completing a training exercise.

Rock Lee

Ø  This sweet boy loves cuddling as much as he loves breathing, but actually probably loves you more.

Ø  Probably has told you this in the past and emphasized his point by telling you he would hold his breath all through a cuddle session just to prove it. He is so extra but tbh you have to love just how open he is about caring for you like omg?? Sweetest boy alive.

Ø  First time cuddling with Lee probably happened when you put your head on his shoulder one day after a date, and he just put an arm around you without hesitating. After that, he made sure to give you more hugs, especially from behind, and would hold you longer than normal until you progressed into full-on cuddle sessions.

Ø  His favorite times to cuddle are sitting around while taking a break from training or in secluded spaces while on a date. He’ll keep holding your hand throughout most of the day, but he’ll be respectful of PDA. (Loves it when you hug his arm while walking, though.)

Ø  He keeps a moderate grip on you or a tight grip, no in-between. Must remind him occasionally that air is a thing, Lee forgets because he “already can’t breathe when he’s with you, (y/n)” like FREAKING DAWW OKAY LEE

Ø  Walking furnace. Cold limbs? What?? No, you aren’t cold once you reach in 2 inches of proximity of this boy, he’s like the sun. You warm up before impact.

Ø  Once you’re alone and cuddling in an apartment or your place, he can be his extra self but he turns into extremely sweet Lee who will tell you the most honest but sweetest things you’ve ever heard. Doesn’t matter if you’ve been together for years, he never turns down for romance.

Ø  Will have you in an octopus hold if you’re ever sleeping in bed. He loves showing you how much he cares and holding you is the way he does that. Big spoon to little spoon ratio is 80/20

Ø  When you do get to be the big spoon, it’ll likely be because he’s feeling down or needing reassurance. But his heart will go through the roof and he’ll love every minute of it.

Ø  Cuddling with Lee means tangled limbs, hands through hair, gentle nuzzling, and numerous kisses all the time. You’ll fall asleep like this too. To take it further, just keep kissing him. You’ll rile him up eventually.

Ø  If you cuddle on the couch it’ll be with you sitting side by side, but he’ll have both arms around you or vice versa.

Ø  Also down to cuddle 24/7, but he’ll get flustered more often in public. Small gestures in public, bigger ones when you’re alone.

Tenten

Ø  Tenten, surprisingly enough, is the least big on cuddling out of her entire team (unless we’re talking about early relationship Neji, but we’ll cover him later)

Ø  Tenten is really independent and any partner for her would be aware of this well before they start dating, but she still has instances of being downright adorable and clingy, but it’ll be balanced out by her general non-touchy-feely nature.

Ø  Still, the first time you cuddle she’ll be in one of her moods and you’ll have been getting closer to each other for a while. She was exhausted and in need of comfort and you offered to let her lay her head on your lap, to which she was bashful about but once you reassured her she went for it. She fell asleep while you gently played with her loose bangs, and you noticed in the days afterwards she was more fidgety around you, until one time when you hugged her while you both were alone she didn’t let go. Like no, more hugs. And you were like ???? but it was ridiculously sweet so you stayed there.

Ø  If you ever stroke her back while you’re cuddling she’ll straight up die. In fact, if you ever want to get her in a cuddling mood just massage her or gently rub her back. If you’re at the point where you’re more intimate together, she LOVES it when you gently run your nails along her back, especially where her bra would dig in. It might even get you more than cuddling, wink wink.

Ø  When falling asleep she usually prefers to cuddle before and then stay on your respective sides. Just her preference, but she’ll still touch butts or feet or hold hands, keeping some small body contact even if it isn’t full cuddling. She feels comforted knowing you’re there.

Ø  She keeps a scroll specifically by her bedside in case you try to put your cold limbs on her. Don’t you freaking dare

Ø  The scroll contains a bucket of ice water. Doesn’t matter to her, it’ll be dumped on your side anyway. Gg no re

Ø  She’s 50/50 big spoon/little spoon. With a female partner she will likely be more big spoon.

Ø  She keeps a loose grip on her partner, preferring to use her hands to caress them rather than hold them. But if you want her to, she’ll gladly hold you tight.

Ø  Lots of nuzzling. Tenten, when she is affectionate, doesn’t prefer to just sit still. She’s more of an ‘active cuddler’

Ø  Cuddling on the couch is a lot of head-in-lap action or head on shoulder. She loves leaning against you even if she’s working on something.

Ø  When she’s working in her workshop (Tenten definitely has a weapons workshop) and you come up to her and hug her, she’ll let you stand there for a while while she’s working. She might complain a little if she’s all sweaty, but if you insist she doesn’t gross you out she’ll find it really endearing. According to her, you’re her good luck charm and you being around makes her work better.

Neji Hyuga

Ø  Neji is the most surprising—he’s completely different at the beginning of your relationship versus later on. His levels of affection directly correlate to his levels of trust and comfort.

Ø  So Neji keeps a sizable bubble early on, but he’ll warm up to being closer to you if you have events that cement his trust in you. But he won't reach out first because he’s got an internal war waging—Do I touch? Do I not? Do they want it? Please just tell this boy straight out you want a hug. Don’t let the external discomfort fool you. He wants to hug you, but anything with vulnerability makes him retreat. His worst fear is doing something that makes you uncomfortable (and your response), which is why he holds off.

Ø  Do not try to initiate physical contact unless you are alone, he cannot stand PDA. His affections are for you and only for you, and he wants no one to see that side of him but you. Plus, it’s completely improper to him. Will pull away rather harshly if you try, will lecture you in private later. “That was not the time, (y/n)”

Ø  His gestures of physical affection pre-cuddling are putting a comforting hand on your shoulder or gently brushing something off of you, like a leaf or stray hair. That being said, if you are alone when he does one of those things and you take a step closer, he’ll freeze for a second and make eye contact. Like questioning “do you want something more…?” He’ll tentatively reach for you but stop halfway. Once you see him go for it, go for it. He’ll warm up to a hug really quick and give you a gentle squeeze, making sure you definitely don't see how much he's blushing right now. It won’t last long, but it’ll start the gears to making sure he’ll want to cuddle, because he loved being able to embrace you. It flustered him to no end, though.

Ø If you’re a more assertive s/o and catch the jump on him and go for it, he’ll freeze when you try to hug him and let out a small yelp, but he’ll nervously smile and let you. Any sort of jump in affection will scare him even if he likes it, poor boy. His family was never physically affectionate, so he feels bad for wanting it. He might snap at you early on as a reflex but he will feel so bad about it after because he isn’t angry at you, he’s upset at himself for being unable to communicate what he really wants with you. He needs patience and time.

Ø  Your actual first time cuddling was likely during a moment of vulnerability for one of you. If it was him, you wrapped your arms around him from behind and he felt some weight fall off his shoulders the minute he knew you were there. He squeezed your hand to let you know he appreciates it so much, and you both stayed like that for some time. If it was you, he was likely feeling helpless to help you and did the only thing he could: he instinctually embraced you and held you, letting you bury your face in his chest/shoulder. He would have always been nervous about physical contact, but nothing would stop him from making sure the person he loved knew he was there for them.

Ø  You progression into cuddling will be very slow, but often times he’ll start to hug you from behind if he’s feeling particularly confident while you’re doing something else, or you’ll realize when he’s in closer proximity of you and stays there that’s his way of asking for a hug. Can’t really vocalize his needs and will keep his normal stoic expression, but you’ll catch on quick.

Ø  If you initiate cuddling on a couch with him he’ll be super flustered, but he won’t protest, but he has no idea what to do with his hands. Where is appropriate again?? Guide him please, he cares for you so much and needs to show you but doesn’t know how. If you fall asleep on him he'll internally die of happiness and maybe will take a nap with you

Ø  Might be stiff at first but the more your progress in your relationship the more natural contact will become for him.

Ø  He gets touch starved after a while, and especially if he’s been gone on a mission for a long time he’ll come back and embrace you and you can tell he doesn't want to let go. He missed you so much he was aching for your touch. Please don’t leave again? Okay I know we both will have to leave again, but don’t leave, please.

Ø  Doesn’t mind if he’s reading or relaxing and you curl up next to him. Might even pull you closer and read around you. He enjoys having you near him even just in proximity. He might prefer some space if he’s meditating, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t mind you occasionally putting your head in his lap while he is. He learns to meditate even in your presence.

Ø  In bed he’ll pull you into a tight embrace, your head likely on his shoulder and both arms around you. He’ll press a gentle kiss to you as you’re both falling asleep and you’ll hear him sigh in contentment. Around this time is when you’ll hear him whisper how much he cares about you.

Ø Neji is will be big spoon a majority of the time but he will never in a million years admit he actually likes being little spoon just as much. You might put two and two together eventually when you realize how often he loves settling between your legs, leaning/laying on you with his arms around you, laying his head on the crook on your neck. Caress his hair while he does this and he'll be out like a light

Ø  Neji has the capacity to be extremely affectionate but it has to be done at his pace and he needs positive encouragement and time to get there. Cuddling is one of the ways he can quietly affirm his love for you when he has a hard time voicing his feelings.

Ø Neji's body heat is fairly even, not too hot or cold. If you try to warm up on him he'll throw a blanket around you and call it a day because no thanks, no cold limbs on me, nope. If you pout he might give you a hug while you're all bundled up in a blanket. Now if you're the kind of person who's always super warm the tables are turned: he'll find any excuse to snuggle up to you because he loves it just so gosh darn much.

Ø Bonus: if you attempt to put your cold limbs on him without warning Neji will yelp and leap out of bed, likely tumbling over in the process. You'll have to decide if the laughter you'll have at the ridiculous display is worth the stern silent treatment you'll get over the next few days

[virtuous-homes-blog]

Invest in property

Last year's housing market was clearly one for the record books, with the gains partly driven by tightening stocks and exceptionally low mortgage rates. In some pockets of the country, housing prices climbed well over 10 percent on average. But, it's not only the big coastal cities which are seeing enormous growth. A survey from GoBankingRates demonstrated that many cities with the most growth proved inland, including: Buffalo, New York (34.6percent ), Atlanta, Georgia (24.54%), and Cincinnati, Ohio (20.6percent ). Bearing this in mind, you could be wondering in the event that you should throw your hat in the ring and invest in real estate -- or, in case you're too late. You might also be asking yourself if you should invest in property in a traditional sense -- as in, becoming a landlord. Now, here is the fantastic news. Not only is currently still a great time to invest in real estate since longer growth is probably on its way, but there are also more ways than ever to invest in housing without dealing with tenants or the other minutiae of landlord perform . Here are some of the best choices at this time: An exchange-traded finance, also called an ETF, is a set of stocks or bonds in a single fund. ETFs are similar to index funds and mutual funds from the fact they come with the exact same broad diversification and low prices over all. If you are angling to invest in real estate but also want to diversify, investing in a real-estate themed ETF may be a smart move. Vanguard's VNQ, for instance, is a property ETF that invests in stocks issued by real estate investment trusts (REITs) that buy office buildings, hotels, and other kinds of property. IYR is another real estate ETF that works similarly since it offers targeted access to domestic property stocks and REITs. There are loads of other ETFs offering exposure to real estate, too, so be sure to do your research and consider the options. A colleague of mine, Taylor Schulte of Define Financial in San Diego, says he swears by a real estate mutual fund known as DFREX. Why? Since its low expenses and track document help him feel confident about future yields. Besides low prices, Schulte says the strategy of DFREX is backed by decades of academic study from Nobel Prize winning economists. TIREX is another property mutual fund to consider with $1.9 billion in assets, broad diversification among real estate holdings, and low prices. #3: Invest in REITs Consumers invest in REITs to precisely the exact same reason they invest in property ETFs and mutual funds; they would like to invest in property without holding physical land. REITs let you do precisely that although also diversifying your holdings dependent on the type of property class each REIT invests in. Financial advisor Chris Ball of BuildFinancialMuscle.com advised me he personally invests in REITs for its diversification and for its"non-correlation" with other types of equities. He says that he likes the long-term data regardless of the typical mood swings and downs and ups of the real estate marketplace. "Additionally, it gives me exposure to property without having to be a landlord," he says. Ball also says a lot of his clients agree with that place and invest in REITs as part of the portfolio as a result. With that being said, I typically suggest customers stay away from non-traded REITs and purchase just publicly-traded REITs instead. The U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) lately came outside to warn against non-traded REITs, imagining their lack of liquidity, high prices, and too little value transparency produce undue risk. #4: Invest at a property focused company There are a number of businesses that own and manage property without working as a REIT. The difference is, you'll need to dig to find them and they can pay a lower dividend than a REIT. Firms who are actual estate-focused can include resorts, resort operators, timeshare businesses, and commercial property developers, for instance. Be certain that you conduct due diligence before you buy stock in individual businesses, but this alternative may be great one if you need exposure to a particular kind of real estate investment and have time to research historical data, company background, and other details. #5: Invest in house construction If you look at real estate market expansion throughout the last ten years or longer, it's simple to observe that much of it is the end result of limited housing stock. Because of this, many predict that construction of new homes will continue to flourish during the next few decades or more. In that sense, it's easy to see why investing in the building side of this sector could also be smart. An whole industry of home builders need to come up with new neighborhoods and rehabilitate old ones, after all, so today might be a good time to buy in. Massive homebuilders to watch comprise LGI Homes (LGIH), Lennar (LEN), D.R. Horton (DHI), and Pulte Homes (PHM), however there are lots of other people to discover by yourself. #6: Hire a home manager Despite the fact that you do not have to purchase physical property to invest in property, there is at least one strategy that could allow you to have your cake and eat it, too. Many investors who want exposure to leasing property they could view and touch go right ahead and purchase leases but hire a property manager to perform all the heavy lifting. While he tried to manage his properties from a distance at firsthe ultimately chose to use a property manager to save his sanity and his gains. While he forks over 8-10% of gross rent to his manager, it was "one of the best decisions he's ever made" as a real estate agent, he says. "They take care of the rental property basics - minor repairs, vetting prospective tenants, collecting rents - so that I can concentrate on my career, family, and locating the upcoming lucrative rental property investment," notes Huffman. In that sense, he receives the benefits of being a landlord with the hard work. "Among the most crucial roles a home manager plays is that they work as a buffer between the renter and me," says Huffman. "I don't receive random texts, calls, or even emails from tenants in all hours of the night or day." The key to making sure this approach works is ensuring that you only invest in properties with enough cash flow to pay for a property manager and still score a substantial speed of return. #7: Invest in real estate notes Property notes are a sort of investment you are able to buy if you're interested in investing in real estate but don't necessarily wish to manage a brick-and-mortar construction. When you are investing in real estate notes through a bank, you're typically buying debt at costs that are well below what a retail dealer would pay. I've invested in property notes in the past via an individual investor I know who buys and renovates property. Thus far, my experiences have only been positive. However, I would conduct due diligence to be sure you know what you are getting into whether you invest into real estate notes using a bank or a property investor who is actively pursuing new possessions. #8: Hard money loans If you do not like any of those other ideas on this list but have cash to lend, you could also consider giving a hard money loan. My friend Jim Wang of WalletHacks.com says he's now investing in real estate with this strategy because he wants exposure but doesn't wish to cope with being a landlord. In addition, he says the ROI (return on investment) because of his time wouldn't be as great as other chances because his time is valuable. Hard money loans are essentially a direct loan into a real estate investor, '' he states. Wang offers property loans to an investor he understands in person, and he receives a 12% return on his money as a result. Wang says he feels comfortable with the set-up since the investor is someone he knows, but he isn't convinced he'd be comfortable with a stranger. In any event, hard money loans directly to real estate investors are another strategy to consider if you would like to invest in property but do not wish to manage a property and the frustrations that come with it. Last but not least, don't forget about all the new companies which have cropped up to help investors become involved in property without getting their hands dirty. Sites like Fundrise and Realty Mogul allow you to invest into commercial leasing or flipping houses and get money flow distributions in return. Investing with either business is similar to investing in REITs because your money is pooled with money from other investors that take advantage of the platform. The money you invest can be used to purchase residential property, commercial property, apartment buildings, and more. Ultimately, you receive the advantage of distributions and dividends and long-term appreciation of those properties that you"own." While neither company has been around for too long, they're doing well so far. Fundrise returned a mean of 11.4% on invested dollars in 2017 net of charges and 9.11 percent in 2018 after all, and you don't have to be an accredited investor to open an account.

[cindylouwho-2]

RECENT NEWS, RESOURCES & STUDIES, May 2 2020

Welcome to my latest summary of recent ecommerce news, resources & studies including search, analytics, content marketing, social media & Etsy! This covers articles I came across since the late April report, although some may be older than that. I will do my best to keep posting these at least once every 10 days if not sooner. 

Have any topics you would like to see me cover in more detail? Drop me a line here on Tumblr, or email me through my website. I’m also on Twitter and YouTube if you prefer social.  

TOP NEWS & ARTICLES 

If you sell on Etsy, this is your reminder that the Offsite Ads program kicks in on May 4, and people who make under $10K a year on Etsy can opt out if they want to avoid the additional fees. I have a summary here. 

Issues with mail delivery during the pandemic continue. Canada Post has suspended on time delivery guarantees and warns of December level volume.  USPS is not shipping to 113 countries, including many APO addresses. 

I am still interested in posting articles and lists of resources for small businesses and artists during the pandemic, so please pass on any good resources you know about. HubSpot did a page for Australia, and one for the United States.  See my previous edition for a longer list. 

ETSY NEWS 

Mask sales have created a huge boom for Etsy, but also some busts. “Suddenly millions of people were logging on to Etsy, searching for masks nine times every second, the company calculated.The site was not ready for the rush….There are now 50,000 sellers on Etsy who have each sold at least one mask; 10,000 have sold at least 100. Etsy staff spent time calling the most popular sellers to weed out scams, but also to ensure well-meaning sellers were not over-promising.” There have been many threads from sellers whose shops were de-indexed due to both bots and to Etsy wanting to limit their sales until they catch up on open orders, creating a lot of complaints at a time when their customer service response is hugely delayed. 

Some sellers report receiving listing credits for masks, although several who received money did not sell masks, and many others who did sell masks got nothing. 

Another Seller Handbook post on what people are looking for while they are under lockdown (TL;DR: home decor, activities, bath & beauty) , as well as suggestions for how you can pivot your shop. They include the top search terms for each area; some examples: washable paper towel, garden, birthday gift,  printable wall art, puzzle, board game, puzzle adult. “As shoppers transform their living spaces for multifunctional uses like working, exercising, and homeschooling, they’re looking for cozy comfort as well as fresh, on-season style updates that offer mood-boosting appeal….113% YoY increase in searches on Etsy for “home office...127% YoY increase in searches on Etsy for “indoor garden...“Face mask” was the top searched term for the last five weeks (as of April 23, 2020)” Finally, “In recent Etsy buyer research, one third of shoppers who anticipated purchasing on Etsy in the next three months reported planning to buy gifts.” [Although the article doesn’t mention this, I strongly recommend emphasizing somewhere in your shop that you can send the order directly to the gift recipient, if you sell giftable items but sales are down right now. I am getting a lot more requests for gift notes than usual, and more people are paying for tracking so they know when the gift arrives.]

A study says that 30% of Etsy sellers do not save for emergencies, and 74% want Etsy to help them when emergencies arise. 

Two new features for users of Etsy’s USPS labels: free pick up requests, and easy customer return labels. 

Etsy launched an exclusive collection with Joseph Altuzarra. 

SEO: GOOGLE & OTHER SEARCH ENGINES 

Moz just came out with an excellent guide to keyword research that you all should at least bookmark to come back to later, even if you don’t do keyword research now. The introduction contains a good definition of long tail with a graph; “Only about 20% of the keywords people search for will be popular "head" terms. The majority of keyword phrases will be less-frequent, long-tail keywords.” There’s even a downloadable 2-page cheat sheet on the basics at the end. 

There may have been a Google search update around April 16, but I am mostly posting this article for the graphs showing search volatility in the past 1-2 months; those changes in the second half of March into early April seem to be mostly user-driven due to the pandemic, rather than algorithm changes. 

Backlinks are not all created equal, and time is sometimes one of the factors in weighting them. [text and video] 

This analysis of near 12 million Google search results turned up some interesting correlations with ranking. Not surprisingly, sites in first place have many more backlinks on average than the other sites on the same page. It was a bit surprising to learn that page loading speed didn’t correlate with ranking at all (that may change once everyone goes to mobile first indexing in the fall), nor did using the keyword in your title tag. “Pages in Google’s top 10 results contain 65% to 85% of the keywords that they’re ranking for in their title tag. However, we found very little (if any) correlation between keyword-optimized title tags and higher rankings on the first page.”

Google may delay its move to complete mobile-first indexing by September, depending on how sites are managing due to the recent disruptions.

Some businesses are moving the money they spent on advertising over to SEO, because there is a longer-term payoff vs. a short term impact from someone seeing an ad on a given day. Good SEO can get you ranking on many search engines for years, if you are lucky. 

(CONTENT) MARKETING & SOCIAL MEDIA (includes blogging & emails) 

Not surprisingly, the top times for social media traffic have changed during the pandemic; here’s an updated list. 

Thinking of starting a YouTube channel? Here’s a beginner’s manual including screenshots on how to set it up, as well as tips on YouTube SEO & other marketing tactics. 

Don’t know what to put in your email newsletters? HubSpot picked 17 examples they think are awesome. 

Facebook rapidly revamped & expanded its video chat option to compete with Zoom & Houseparty, called Messenger Rooms. Note that “Room calls are not end-to-end encrypted, but Facebook says it does not view or listen to calls.” The are also working on the ability to charge people to watch live streams. 

Twitter had a good first quarter but the stock still fell because it does not look like they are recovering from the pandemic effects very quickly. 

ONLINE ADVERTISING (SEARCH ENGINES, SOCIAL MEDIA, & OTHERS) 

As mentioned in my last edition, Google Shopping is now offering free listings on its US platform, and rolled out a bit early for some even though the start date was given as April 27. Your Etsy listings will not be shown in the free ads if you opt out of Etsy’s Offsite Ads program, and you are not allowed to add marketplace listings to GS yourself, but this may be something you are interested in for your website, if you sell to the US. Some tips on setting up Merchant accounts correctly for this here and here, and optimizing your listings here. If your standalone is on Shopify, they have instructions here. 

As ad prices are dropping for some items on some platforms, it has become easier for small businesses to start campaigns, especially experienced online sellers who can now take advantage of the ecommerce boom. [I agree with this for the right types of items or service, but I don’t think it is going to work for everything.]

New to online advertising, and don’t know where to start? HubSpot has a good introductory overview here, with details on the main options available. 

Google is offering ad credits to small & medium sized businesses as pandemic relief, starting in late May. Note that you need to have been running ads last year with Google to be eligible. . 

Google Ad users will soon need to submit proof of identity & location, starting with US users. The move is to help prevent scammers and increase transparency. Early response to the announcement is mixed. 

Facebook is no longer forcing advertisers to use its Campaign Budget Optimization, meaning businesses will continue to be able to set different budgets across all of their campaigns. 

STATS, DATA, OTHER TRACKING 

If you have an ecommerce site built with Wordpress, here’s how to track your email newsletter clicks through Google Analytics. 

And for your ecommerce site, the best alerts to set up in GA. 

Bing Webmaster Tools has a great feature that tracks traffic to connected accounts other than your website or blog - but Twitter has been removed from this list. 

There are far more Instagram analytics apps than I thought. 

ECOMMERCE NEWS, IDEAS, TRENDS 

Many ecommerce platforms/website providers are being pressured to reduce the fake COVID-19 disinfectants on their sites, including eBay, Facebook, Shopify & Alibaba.

There is a new app that lets buyers shop with multiple businesses who run their sites through Shopify, called Shop. Among other things, it will feature businesses local to the user: “A recent survey of global consumers by Ernst & Young found that 34% of respondents are willing to pay more for local products amid the pandemic.”

Shopify’s stock is flying high right now, and it has become the second-most valuable company in Canada, in part due to the surge of sign ups after the start of the pandemic. 

Since page loading speed is important to buyer conversions as well as SEO, if you have a Shopify site, you will want to read about which themes are the fastest & slowest to load. A few are ridiculously slow, & you will want to consider your goals if you are thinking of using them. 

Jeff Bezos has moved back to managing Amazon operations due to the pandemic. “Bezos was also personally involved in Amazon’s decision to suspend third-party vendors from shipping non-essential items to Amazon’s warehouses, helping ease the load on workers so that they could more efficiently ship goods like baby products, groceries, pet supplies and personal care products.  He also signed off on Amazon’s move to halt tactics it normally uses “to encourage customers to put more items in their shopping carts”.

Meanwhile, Amazon VP states that Amazon has done a lot for sellers during the pandemic, including suspending “repayment of all Amazon Lending loans for sellers in the United States and the United Kingdom until April 30.” I guess that is why their profit fell to only $2.5 billion in the first quarter of 2020 despite their gross sales being up 29% due to the pandemic buying. 

Amazon’s pilot program for verifying new sellers by video calls is continuing; contrary to previous reports, they say they are not using facial-recognition technology, but they are checking photo ID against the video call. 

eBay has extended its suspension of most seller performance standard rules until June 19 for sellers in the UK. They are also extending their free listing offers, and after banning mask sales are now apparently envying Etsy’s sales and are encouraging sellers to make fabric masks.They are also planning a way to confirm sales that involve local pickups [podcast & transcript]. 

eBay had lower 1st quarter results than they & others had predicted, so the stock went down. Here is the call transcript for those interested. 

BUSINESS & CONSUMER STUDIES, STATS & REPORTS; SOCIOLOGY & PSYCHOLOGY, CUSTOMER SERVICE 

The pandemic sales trends have switched from hoarding essentials to food & home comfort items. “As spring eased toward summer, cooking at home also began to include gardening. "We see continued growth in gardening," said Ventry. ... Growing herbs, he said, played well with the home cooking trend, too. "We saw similar trends from 2008 to 2010, during the recession."

Ecommerce sales are way up, perhaps 50% up in the US right now, and some of these people will continue their increased online shopping, so it is a good time to launch many types of new campaigns. (warnings - some “not safe for work” language) 

HubSpot has been producing a weekly pandemic report on its customers core business stats, such as website traffic & sales rates. They speculate that we might be seeing a bit of an overall recovery as of last week. 

MISCELLANEOUS

There are still more good work-from-home articles coming out that can also be relevant for those of us who have been doing this for a while now. Using a schedule to be more productive is a common topic. As is managing to be productive with kids around. 

[whateverisbeautiful]

Reveling in Richonne

125:  The Living (8x16)

This finale gave us the conclusion of All Out War and, interestingly, rather than provide a bloodbath of death, there was instead more focus on life and the living.  

And all I know is they were smart to put that life-giving Richonne moment in the cold open cuz it had put me in such a good mood that I was just ready to watch rest of the finale like...

So, on their way to Negan, TF walks on this grassy wide open field and we see Rick and Michonne walking with Maggie. And, even though Maggie’s between them, I love that R&M are still close by each other cuz that’s the magnet way. 👌🏽

And y’all, you know my extra self has to analyze any Richonne scene, even if it’s a deleted one lol. And there’s a deleted scene in this moment that shows a conversation between Rick, Michonne and Maggie that I thought was interesting.

At first I didn’t think too much of it. But when I realized the significance, it really hit my heart. Cuz as they talk with Maggie about the world after this, Michonne is the one to bring up how Maggie will have a baby and become stronger than ever because of her child.

And then Michonne tells her “Your heart becomes whole. Everything you do is for that child.” 😭 And that’s a sentiment both her and Rick know very well. And I love that Rick is able to look at her talk about this because he knows Sis is preaching gospel truths.

And finally she tells her “The things you do for that child, they work for the world too.” It’s so true and it really speaks to just the importance and power of raising kids in general. It’s such a big and valuable thing in the grand scheme of things and equips people with skills that apply in other areas of life as well. 

Rick adds “You get everybody to believe it doesn’t have to be a fight anymore.” Which is the very thing Carl has led him to believe.

So this moment is already special due to the fact that it’s two characters who have lost children, and very recently lost children at that, speaking with an expectant mother. Like they get to speak as parents, and specifically parents of Carl, which is heartwarming. ☺️

And to hear Michonne have such a great view of how a kid can change your life and thus lead you to change the world is precious because it shows she’s found the good and not just the depressing in their situation.

But the biggest reason this is so special is because of this next part. Cuz after Maggie says she can’t wait for tomorrow (calling back to Rick having said something similar in the season 8 premiere) and walks away, Rick and Michonne have a moment where Rick can tell Michonne has something she needs to tell him.

I love that she’s looking at him like this and that just from her look Rick knows something’s up so he asks what. Couple vibes. And she mentions how “believing it doesn’t have to be a fight anymore” was something Carl put in his letter to Negan. Rick tells her he read it and that notion must’ve stuck with him.

She then confides in him, saying  “I took the Saviors walkie and I read the letter to Negan. Carl had something he wanted to tell him, and I wanted to make sure he heard it.” Y’all…this directly correlates with what Michonne was telling Maggie earlier because Carl is her child. 😭

One; it connects to how even if Michonne may personally still be against Negan, she was willing to talk to him and get Carl’s message out to him because “everything you do is for that child.”

And as she said, she gave Negan the message cuz she knew Carl had something to tell him, but what’s cool is it also ends up being an effective way to get Negan to have to think of this whole situation differently.

Like while he claimed to be committed to this whole “kill all of you” rage approach, Carl’s words clearly got to him and got him a little more vulnerable than he’d be had he not heard Carl’s letter.

And so Michonne’s motherly act of reading the letter actually could contribute to why Rick was able to dismantle Negan in their face-off, proving that “the things you do for that child, they work for the world too.” 👌🏽

It’s significant for her to have shared all that about a child and then immediately talk about Carl. Mother and son, y’all. 🙌

And even tho it’s a deleted scene, I’m glad there’s some indication that she’d tell Rick about reading the letter to Negan.

So then back in the final cut, we see all of TF stop and look out at a pretty massive herd of walkers in the distance. And I just love seeing R&M together in this shot. Partners. 👏🏽👏

🏽So then as they’re walking in this wide open field, yet again the whistles let them know they’ve fell into a trap. So they lift their guns and look for the source, and then Negan is on the walkie talkie, talking like he’s got them cornered.

Negan says “Eugene is the person who made today possible” and ain’t that the truth. 😂 And then he reveals that he knows about Dwight’s affiliation with them. He tells Rick they’re cleaning house and he’s going to start with Father G.

He tells Rick, “Rick, it never had to be a fight. You just had to accept the way things are.” But that’s polar opposite of what Michonne told Rick in the cell in 7x08 and you know Michonne’s words finna take precedent cuz 👸🏾.

Negan also congrats Rick, which is fitting considering Rick’s about to take this W. And then, as Negan counts down, a whole slew of Saviors pop up which low key made it feel like TF didn’t even make a dent at those outposts.

And then as you know, this entire two seasons long war is ended all by the hands of Eugene. Two seasons worth of irredeemability and Eugene low key got redeemed in one moment when he comes through with these rigged bullets and all the Saviors get their hands practically blown off, including Negan.

Like y’all, Eugene really told these Saviors…

To me this act of Eugene actually adds up when I thought about it. Cuz Eugene is a guy who’s all about living so he could never really truly support a man who makes him fear for his life constantly. So even tho some aspects of this are a stretch (like no one else testing their gun beforehand) we were still happy at my house when we saw this cuz Eugene just gave TF a way out of no way.

And it was funny to see TF’s confused reactions to this moment cuz they’re really looking like they’ve entered the twilight zone or something. 😂

And then Rick, being the leader he is, knows this is as good a time as any to get this war popping so he says “Now.” and this whole fight ensues.

I liked seeing Dwight and Father G be able to get their licks in with Negan, even tied up. And It’s cool to see Dwight, Father Gabriel, and Eugene in this moment against Negan cuz at one point those three were all considered traitors or questionable, so for them to fight Negan when it’s down to the wire really cemented that they have good true colors.

(Side note: It did leave me feeling a little salty that there were zero notable character casualties in this war tho. Mainly cuz this could’ve been the perfect opportunity to cut this cast down to a more personal size. Plus, All Out War was so heavily advertised but, if I’m not mistaken, the only notable war casualties throughout the season on our end were Tobin, Eric, and Dr. Carson 2.0 which sort of had me like...

So then as Michonne and Maggie and co approach the Saviors they all surrender and put their weapons down.

Meanwhile, Rick is about to go toe to toe with Negan. He’s taking his shots and then runs out of bullets for the third time in 8B. But because Savage Rick ain’t nothing to play with he decides he’s just going to run for it and take on Negan head on for their final showdown.

As their fighting, Negan gets the upper hand and starts kicking Rick around and hits him with Lucille.  He grabs Lucille and then feels Rick should know that the eeny meeny miney moe stuff was never apart of the original plan. 

He says “I made a choice. I just didn’t want to kill a kid’s dad in front of him.” Which is interesting. Similar to the sentiment expressed in 8x14, Negan didn’t do it because Rick’s “son was there”. 

Then Negan says it would’ve been the best thing if he had killed Rick like he was originally going to do. Next, he wants to try it and say the kid might still be alive had Rick died. And that’s when Rick’s done talking and kicks Negan to the ground.

So both of them are laying there and then Rick tells him he’s beat and his people are down but Negan is aware of his plot armor so he says “I’ll get out of it. I always do.” Which essentially translates to...

He then tells Rick how it’s just them and he’s bigger and badder and has a bat which…

Rick tells Negan they can have a future and Negan says “I know I will” which stinks that now that’ll be low key true when Negan is still here and Rick isn’t. :(

So Rick starts to get up and asks Negan to just give him ten seconds to tell him how they can have a future. And Negan’s not having it at first but then Rick says more urgently but gently “Just give me ten seconds for Carl.” 

So Negan stops and decides to give him ten seconds. As Negan counts down Rick tells him “Carl said it doesn’t have to be a fight anymore.” And Negan interjects to say he was wrong. But Rick insists he was right. And it’s interesting to see that both these men have let Carl’s letters influence them in this crucial moment.

(Side note: I just have to reiterate again…Why did Carl have to die for this? Had he been right there in this moment telling his dad it doesn’t have to be a fight anymore that could’ve been just as much, if not more effective 😪)

Negan has a vulnerable moment of letting that sink in. And Rick seizes this opportunity to slit his throat. And it’s low key fitting for Rick to go for his throat considering they’ve all been forced to listen to this guy talk their ear off for two seasons. 😌

This, prompts Negan to hypocritically say “Look what you did” causing Rick to look down and then immediately recall those walks with Carl and how that’s the future he has to work towards and killing Negan won’t get him there. So he drops the shard and sort of looks like he regrets his decision.

And then when he looks behind him, everybody is there. Literally everyone. So he walks towards them and says, “Save him”.  

Now y’all...this was my legit reaction to hearing Rick say that…

It really can be best summed up as “I’m disappointed but not surprised” lol.

When they cut to the group, you can see that when Michonne hears him say this she tilts her head sort of like “alright this is what we’re doing” cuz she understands where Rick is coming from more than anyone in this moment.

Then as Siddiq and Jerry go to tend to Negan, Maggie actually legit makes me emotional as she tries to run over and yells “No, he killed Glenn.” 😢

Michonne holds her and not in a strictly suppressive way to me but more like a helpful consoling way too. As Maggie screams no, Rick says “We have to” (but do they have to tho? I’m just saying lol) even though you can tell it’s going to take time for Rick to even fully believe that himself. 

So Maggie yells that they have to end it and she says, “Rick we have to make it right.”

Michonne calmly tells her “We can’t make it right. But this makes it over. It’s over.” Which is how she and Rick have clearly both come to see things. But Maggie then continues to repeat something that has some real validity which is; “It’s not over until he’s dead.”

Killing Negan would be an act of self-defense and preservation for the world they’re trying to build. Someone who could allow, create, and justify such sadistic behavior like Negan did could easily be a threat to the better society they want to work towards.

At the same time, there’s also the fact that killing Negan would be too dignified. It’s a special kind of torture for this man who loves attention, power, and to be in control to have to sit and watch all that be taken away. This man thought he was saving people and creating a new world and now he has to watch that go on without him or his influence, and to not be apart of it and reap the benefit would be quite the punishment for him.

As Maggie cries you just feel all the pain that she’s been feeling since that fateful night in 7x01. 😥 And she falls to her knees in grief as Rick speaks and Michonne continues to hold Maggie, not just as restraint but as comfort.

Rick goes into a speech telling everyone “No. What happened, what we did, what we lost, there’s gotta be something after.” He calls back to Carl’s words cuz, more than anything, this decision comes from Rick’s need as a father to honor his son.

(Side note: I know there’s not any use trying to understand the thinking behind some decisions on this show. But I will say, hearing Rick mention “what we lost” makes me think that part of why Gimple thought he could justify killing Carl is because Rick was going to have to have lost something as valuable to him as Glenn was to Maggie, otherwise it wouldn’t make sense for Rick to make this final decision alone…but it still doesn’t make sense. Cuz they had to switch up the core of Carl’s character for this. And sparing Negan is a group decision no matter what)

He tells the Saviors they can put their hands down and they’re all going home now. He says “Negan’s alive. But his way of doing things are over.”

And then it’s just a little ironic that he says “And anyone who can’t live with that will pay the price. I promise you that.” 😋But I’m with it cuz I’m sure some of these people need to know there’s a price for not adhering to peace. 

He says “Any person here who will live in peace and fairness and find common ground, then this world is theirs by right”. 

He then passionately says “We are life.” And then he points over to the walker herd and says “That’s death.”

He gives a necessary reminder that the living shouldn’t be the main enemy they’re fighting and then says “And it’s coming for us. Unless we stand together.” 

He tells everyone to go home and then the work begins and “The new world begins.” And he decides that “all this, all this is just what was.”

He then repeats “There’s gotta be something after.” Those words of Carl’s have resonated so much with both Rick and Michonne and it definitely shows their commitment to him that they’re letting his mantra live on.

So y’all, after this scene, this was me appreciating Andrew Lincoln’s performance in this speech while also feeling conflicted about the situation as a whole...

Cuz the fact of the matter is that the decision to spare Negan wasn’t Rick’s alone to make. Period. Rick made this executive decision due to the loss in his life showing him that there’s another way, but it’s not exactly fair to make a major group decision off of one person’s specific loss. 

A lot of people have suffered at the hands of Negan and they deserved a say. Especially Maggie and King Ezekiel who were supposed to be the other “ co-captains” in this war. So initially I was just like; Rick, you gotta talk about this with people and let some people have a vote including me, because when it comes to saving Negan...

Eventually I was able to see some of the benefits of keeping him alive tho, which I’ll go into later. And finding the positive, it definitely speaks to the depth of loyalty in Richonne that Rick could declare he’s sparing Negan and Michonne sides with him, even when so many others might disagree. Like their unity was really visible in this moment. 

Later, we get that scene that opened this whole season where Rick says his mercy prevailed over his wrath, and sure enough it’s in reference to sparing Negan. And then Rick seems to finally take a moment to just full on grieve, which he needs.

Seeing that clip of Rick getting to let it all out was moving. It’s just crazy cuz who would’ve thought that at the end of this whole Rick vs. Negan arc, RIck would be without his son. 

It makes me think about Rick and Michonne’s conversation in 7x12 and how Rick told Michonne they would lose people they love. And, in losing Carl, this show lost more than just a person we love but the heart at the center of TWD.

But it’s nice to know that, while Rick may be sitting alone in this moment, he’s not alone in life. And because he has Michonne to bring him back to hope, he’s not going to stay in a state of grief forever.

It just goes to show that they have a love that can bring them back from the brink of any and everything. Cuz like Rick said, they are life, y’all. 🙌🏾😊

Gif sources: michonnegrimes

danaigurirasource

[artificialqueens]

Tattletale: Part 2 (Shalaska) - Rosie

A/N: Thank you for the love for Tattletale Part 1! Here’s Part 2, where the majority of the plot happens. Strap yourselves in, below is probably my favourite thing I’ve ever written. 7.3k words.

Summary: After it’s revealed someone is bullying Vixen, fingers are pointed and battle lines are drawn in the sandpit as drama amongst the primary school mothers escalates.  

Catch Up on Tattletale: Part 1

Trigger Warning: for mentions of domestic violence.

Eyebrows rose, a soft gasp of shock was heard, and Sharon swore she saw a hand literally rise to clutch at their Tiffany & Co. pearl necklace.

“That’s got to be a mistake,” Sharon muttered, her blood running cold as every pair of eyes, parent and child alike, narrowed in on her baby girl.

Aquaria didn’t hit Vixen. Sharon was instinctively, wholeheartedly, positively sure of it.

“That’s a mistake,” Sharon repeated, glancing at a straight faced Alaska standing next to her and wondering why Punk’d cameras weren’t bursting out of the classroom.

But to her surprise, it was her usually quiet and reserved Aquaria who finally broke the silence.

“I didn’t hit her,” Aquaria said honestly, her eyes wide and unwavering as she looked at Vixen and her mothers.

“Are you positive?” Sasha pressed uncertainly, and it felt so awkward to Sharon to have Sasha, a mother she barely knew, question her daughter before ever saying a word to her.

“Of course she is,” Sharon bit back, threatening to lose her cool way too early.

She could see the eyes of the other parents darting between the two sides like a tennis match. She wished this wasn’t happening with so many spectators. She wished this wasn’t happening at all.

“Well Vixen is sure Aquaria hit her,” Shea said, standing up from where Vixen stood and getting on Sharon’s level. “So what are we going to do about it?”

“But I didn’t hit her,” Aquaria insisted, her tone more desperate now. She looked up at Sharon with wide eyes as she clutched the familiar, comforting material of her mother’s dress.

“We’re not going to do anything about it, because Aquaria didn’t hit her,” Sharon said firmly.

Sharon couldn’t believe the cruel twist of fate. Things were going so well before, she had met Alaska, Aquaria had been so happy when she came out of the classroom—

Suddenly an idea popped into her head.

“Which toy did the fight happen over?” Sharon asked Vixen directly but gently, a thrill running through her mind as she tasted the one-up she’d score.

“A stuffed elephant,” Vixen replied evenly, crossing her arms and looking at Aquaria. She took so much after her mother Shea, who also stood with her arms crossed. If Aquaria wasn’t currently being unfairly accused, Sharon would think Vixen’s confident attitude was extremely cute.

“But Aquaria just told me she didn’t play with toys today, did you baby?” Sharon argued evenly, kneeling down to Aquaria and Vixen’s level. “You told me about dress ups?”

“Yeah, with Brianna and Blair.”

All eyes shot to Brianna currently perched on Alaska’s hip, and the little girl nodded honestly, suddenly becoming the witness in this junior court case.

“Ah-ha!” Sharon announced, a little smug with her quick thinking. She hoped and prayed this would nip this stupid dilemma in the bud.

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Shea argued, narrowing her eyes at Sharon’s cockiness.

“What does that mean?” Sharon replied, frustrated at the back and forth.

“It means it doesn’t solve our problem. Someone hit Vixen,” Shea clarified, before giving Sharon a once over and tacking on a sentence that made her blood boil. “And your kid could be lyin’.“

Sharon clenched her jaw, her metaphorical claws spiking in fury.

“So could yours!” Sharon exclaimed, her voice rising at the accusation that her own damn child would lie.

“Are you yelling at us?” Sasha interjected, and Sharon wanted to rip her hair out in frustration. It was two against one, until another player joined the match.

“She’s not yelling,” Alaska sighed, glaring at Sasha.

Sharon bent down again, bypassing the parents and asking Vixen directly. Alaska’s interjection had given her a chance to breath, and it took all her energy to calmly ask Vixen her question.

“Vixen,” Sharon said softly but firmly. “This is serious, so we need to make sure you are absolutely positive that it was Aquaria who hurt you."

With her hands on Aquaria’s small shoulders, Sharon shook her slightly when she said her name, as if to wave her in front of Vixen and go ‘Are you sure? My little girl? My Aquaria?’

There was a beat of hopeful silence as Vixen’s young eyes looked into Sharon’s older ones. They darted to Aquaria, then to the floor, before finally looking to the side.

“Yes.”

Sharon let out a defeated sigh, knowing this didn’t confirm anything, but knowing it didn’t do anything to help the situation.

“Then make your daughter apologise,” Sasha said to Sharon, more of a demand than a suggestion.

“But I didn’t!” Aquaria pleaded to Vixen, before she stamped her tiny foot in frustration.

“See,” Sasha murmured to Shea, and Alaska rolled her eyes, as if a foot stomp was in direct correlation to harming another child.

“We need to go, Vixen has a piano lesson,” Shea said, looking at the time on her luxury watch before looking at Sharon. “We expect an apology when you’re ready to give one.”

Turning her attention to Aquaria, Shea squatted down, her voice soft but still dripping with condescension.

“If you ever hurt my daughter again young lady, you’ll be in very big trouble.”

Sharon gasped, an expression of horror twisting her features.

Aquaria, who had defended herself so honestly this whole time, finally broke down at the intimidation. Her soft features scrunched up as tears sprung to her eyes and ran down her face as she cried.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Shea muttered, rolling her eyes and standing up to whisper to Sasha. “Of course. Now she’s a victim.”

“Shea! Now that calls for an apology!” Alaska exclaimed in outrage.

“Alaska,” Sasha warned, as if that was meant to scare her into backing down.

“Sasha!” Alaska retorted while Sharon struggled to wipe Aquaria’s tears away before more streamed down her face.

Alaska knew Sharon could fight her own battles, but she also knew these mothers better than she did. Battle lines had just been formed, and she was well and truly putting herself on the firing line.

Sasha hoisted Vixen onto her hip and walked away with Shea, neither of them turning back as they whispered to themselves. Vixen, however, gave Aquaria one last look through the wavy red hair cascading down Sasha’s shoulder, her expression unreadable as she looked at the crying new girl.

“Show’s over, everyone,” Alaska announced sarcastically to the paralyzed crowd. “That’s all, folks!”

The gaggle of parents began to scatter, but the tension in the air refused to evaporate.

Sharon spotted Ms Monsoon as the crowd parted, and the quirky teacher hesitantly walked up to her.

“Hi. Sharon, was it?” Ms Monsoon asked tentatively, nervously touching one of the yellow pencils shoved into her messy bun.

“Yep,” Sharon said shortly, instantly irritated with how the freaking classroom teacher was only coming into the conflict now. Where was she during that showdown?

Stuffing a tissue soggy with Aquaria’s tears, which had only just started to calm down, into her bag, Sharon stood up.

“Sorry,” she apologized, already feeling bad for her short answer. “Hi, I’m Sharon Needles. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances, Ms Monsoon.”

“Oh, please, call me Jinkx,” the teacher laughed softly. “I didn’t actually see this incident happen. 30 kids, one teacher, you know how it is.”

Sharon nodded, mentally scolding Jinkx for missing the confrontation and screwing up this dynamic. She was looking for someone to blame, and Jinkx was that person for the moment.

“But I just want to let you know that I personally don’t think Aquaria hit Vixen.”

Sharon’s eyebrows jumped, pleasantly surprised at Jinkx’s honest comment.

“I know I’ve only spent a day with them, but Aquaria has a really reserved nature, and I saw her hanging around Brianna all day. Of course, that doesn’t prove anything, but I just wanted to let you know that, and that hopefully this will all blow over.”

Sharon nodded in agreement this time, however she wasn’t so sure.

“Yes, hopefully."

*

“What does an academic even do? Loiter around universities?” Alaska ranted over the phone to Sharon later that night.

After the confrontation in the playground, Sharon had taken Aquaria home. Monday was one of the only days of the week Aquaria didn’t have a dance class, so Sharon let her do whatever she wanted, knowing she would talk when she was ready. Even though they were both shaken, Aquaria’s deflated mood had picked up over the afternoon. She bounced on her trampoline, played with her teddies, and beautifully filled in some pages in one of her many colouring books. It was when Sharon had sat with her to colour, carefully staying within the lines, when Aquaria opened up. They had such a close relationship, and she always felt safe with her mother.

“I promise I didn’t hit her,” Aquaria said sincerely.

“I know you didn’t, I believe you completely,” Sharon said, putting down her green felt tip and pulling Aquaria into her lap.

And she did. Sharon believed her daughter. She knew her own child. Aquaria would never hurt a fly. Aquaria tucked her teddy and rabbit into bed each night, kissing them each on the forehead before bringing their ‘sheet’ (a tissue) up to their chins. Aquaria always begged for a puppy or kitten whenever they walked past the pet shop, not entirely because she wanted one, but because she thought their glass window displays were too small. Aquaria cheered from the bathroom when she peed clear, she had to sleep with a nightlight on and was kind enough to share even her most treasured dress up items with her cousins when they came to play. Aquaria couldn’t have hit Vixen.

Now that she was bathed, cosy her jimjams, cuddled and tucked into bed upstairs, Sharon finally relaxed on the couch, her phone to her ear and Alaska’s voice a comforting – albeit angry – soundtrack. They were discussing what most of the mother’s were probably gossiping about over dinner tonight with their significant others – P&C Committee Leader Power Couple Shea and Sasha verses Sharon feat. Alaska.

“I checked her LinkedIn,” Alaska said into the phone, looking at Sasha’s profile on her laptop while she sat on her bed, “after I logged out, of course, and she’s not even teaching. She wore a feminist pin on her scarf today, but she’s probably too pretentious to admit she’s a stay at home mum. There’s nothing wrong with that! That’s basically me! And Shea, a political scientist. I can’t with these two.”

Sharon laughed softly, Alaska’s passionate tirade a welcomed distraction from the battle between their children.

“Today was nice…” Sharon said softly, “before pick up, I mean.”

“God, so much happened today,” Alaska exhaled in astonishment, and Sharon laughed genuinely this time. Today had been a lot, and it was only day one.

“But yes,” Alaska continued, and Sharon could hear the smile in her voice. “Today was amazing.”

Sharon didn’t know what to say next. If Alaska was here, she would have taken her in her arms, cupped her jaw and brought their lips together. There was a silence before Sharon decided to say what was exactly on her mind.

“I wish you were here,” she whispered.

“Me too,” Alaska whispered back, as if talking too loudly would pop their bubble of intimacy.

There was more silence, but it didn’t feel awkward, just comforting.

“You’re gonna get through this,” Alaska said. “I know you know that, but… I just wanted to tell you.”

“No, thank you, I need to hear that,” Sharon said, “I feel like you’re gonna need to keep telling me. And I’m going to need you… by my side.”

“I’ll be there."

*

No matter how many people – a grand total of two – reassured Sharon things would blow over, they did not.

“How was your second day, Qua Qua?” Sharon said excitedly during the next days 3pm pick up, playing up her happiness upon seeing Aquaria’s long face.

“Fine,” her little girl replied after squeezing her mother in a hug, the complete opposite to the ecstatic chatterbox who was skipping out of the classroom yesterday. “Let’s go.”

Fuck, thought Sharon, eyeing off the mothers around her, who conveniently stopped their conversations and looked away when Sharon glared in their direction. After a night of dreaming about brunette hair, soft thighs and grasping hands, Sharon had slept through her alarm. She got Aquaria to school just on time, and maybe it was for the better as she didn’t have a stand around and make fake small talk to the other mothers. But she was also kicking herself – she didn’t want to seem like a coward.

To make matters worse, both Alaska and Brianna were no shows today, disappointing both Sharon and Aquaria. Sharon had woken to a text from Alaska, but it wasn’t a cute ‘good morning’ one like she first expected.

A: Cracker’s got some cold/fluey thing L Probs caught it yesterday. Keeping her home, good luck with everything, you’ll both be fine! J xx

Sharon took Aquaria’s tiny pink and blue Frozen backpack and swung it onto her right shoulder, capturing Aquaria’s hand in her left as she walked them the short distance to the car park.

“Did you play dress ups during free time today?” Sharon prompted.

“Yep,” Aquaria said shortly, and Sharon didn’t miss how she herself said the same thing to Jinkx just yesterday. The apple didn’t fall far.

“How fun! What did you dress up as?”

Radio silence.

Sharon knew her daughter, so she didn’t push as they reached their car. She buckled an emotionless Aquaria into the back before hopping into the driver’s seat. Right on cue, she heard a heartbreaking sniffle echo around the privacy of their closed car.

Sharon whipped her head around, her expression forming into a panicked grimace as Aquaria cried.

What the fuck happened, she thought.

“Aw, baby! Tell me what happened? It’s okay,” Sharon said softly, reaching behind her to squeeze Aquaria’s hand. “Do you want me to sit in the back?”

Between sniffles and sobs and the wiping of tears, Aquaria shook her head before finally calming down. After sucking in gasps of air, she relayed the day as best she could in this state.

“N-no one… played w-with me,” Aquaria sobbed, and Sharon’s eyes instantly became misty with tears at how heartbroken her daughter was. “They said… their mummies… told them to not play w-with me.”

It was like someone was squeezing the life out of Sharon’s heart, so she could only imagine how Aquaria was feeling.

“Oh, baby, it’s okay!” Sharon tried, the both of them knowing things weren’t fucking okay. It was times like this when Sharon doubted herself the most. She felt so unequipped to handle situations like this. She expected drama like this to happen later in Aquaria’s life, not in Year 1.

“Their mummies are stupid… fuddy-duddies,” Sharon said angrily, a smile tugging on Aquaria’s mouth at her mother’s word choice.  “They don’t know us. Things will get better, okay? I promise you. I will have a word with them and all of this will be sorted out before we know it.”

Sharon turned around, gripping the steering wheel to a car that wasn’t even on. Shea and Sasha had flung mud, and dear God had it stuck. So how could Sharon make them clean again?

*

That afternoon they watched Moana and made homemade vegetarian pizzas, even though it was a Tuesday and pizza night was reserved for Fridays. Aquaria had snuggled up with Sharon under a blanket and hugging her plush rabbit, and while she was half-heartedly laughing at the funny parts, it was the first time she didn’t sing along to How Far I’ll Go, and it made Sharon’s bottom lip quiver.

As Moana crossed the ocean and saved an entire island, Sharon struggled to figure out how to save her own daughter from this mess. Once Aquaria was asleep in bed, Sharon sat on her balcony and indulged in a guilty pleasure – or three. She placed a glass of red on her side table, held a lit cigarette in one hand and had Alaska on the phone in the other.

“That’s fucked,” Alaska finally said once Sharon finished updating her. “Oh god, I’m so sorry Cracker and I weren’t there today.”

“No! This isn’t your fault,” Sharon reassured her. “Please don’t feel bad. How’s Cracker?”

“She’s a lot better than this morning, I think her immune system was just a little shocked from the first day. I’m confident she’ll be fine tomorrow. I signed up to read to the kids tomorrow anyway, so we’re definitely coming in.”

“Oh fuck,” Sharon cursed, “I volunteered too. I totally forgot that’s happening tomorrow.”

Sharon moaned, a tantrum threatening to bubble over. She took a drag of her cigarette instead.

“I don’t wanna see Shea and Sasha tomorrow. But I do, but I don’t, I don’t know!” Sharon vented.

“They won’t be there tomorrow, we got emailed a roster and they’re part of Thursday’s team, not Wednesday like us,” Alaska explained. “I’m so good.”

“You are,” Sharon smiled, her tense shoulders instantly relaxing. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sharon sipped at her wine, Alaska’s voice and the quiet night sky stirring something inside of her.

“What are you up to?” Sharon said, her voice low. They both knew she wasn’t looking for an entirely mundane answer.

“I’m in bed…” Alaska said softly, which was the truth.

Sharon nodded, even though Alaska couldn’t see.

“…wishing you were here.”

Sharon’s heart skipped a beat, and she sat still in her deck chair, watching the smoke rise from the cigarette perched in her ashtray.

“What would you do if I was there?” Sharon asked, her voice gentle.

Alaska was silent for a moment, but Sharon could hear her rolling in her sheets.

“I’d kiss you… straddle your lap and slip my tongue into your mouth,” Alaska described, her voice low as she drawled out her words.

Sharon closed her eyes, a shiver running through her that wasn’t from the night air.

“Then what?” Sharon asked, and Alaska softly giggled at Sharon’s audible gulp.

“Then I’d kiss your jaw, kiss your neck, leave a hickey here and there, especially on that little flower ribbon tattoo thing you have on your boobie,” Alaska chuckled.

“Hey!” Sharon laughed, taking a drag of her cigarette before placing it down. “It’s from my favourite movie.”

“No it’s cute, I forgot to tell you yesterday,” Alaska said before lowering her voice again. “Where was I? Oh yeah, so, I’d kiss my way down your body…"

Sharon instinctively played with the buttons of her white work blouse, imagining the soft, teasing touches were coming from the woman on the phone.

“…kissing your tummy, kissing your inner thighs… and then my hair is tickling your skin, and my lips are getting closer… and closer to your pussy. And you’re thrusting up to me, begging me to finally give into your pulsing core—“

“My pulsing core? You should write an erotic book,” Sharon teased.

“Oh, shut up!” Alaska laughed. “Do you want me to fuck you over the phone or not?”

Sharon burst out laughing before throwing a hand over her mouth, careful not to wake Aquaria inside.

“I can’t touch myself anyway right now,” Sharon whispered into her phone, “I’m sitting on my balcony.”

“That’s hot, though,” Alaska bargained.

Sharon laughed, feeling the full effect of the wine now that their all-consuming bubble of lust had popped.

“I’ve gotta go to bed…” Sharon sighed, stubbing out her cigarette before picking up her empty wine glass and heading inside.

“Good, get some sleep,” Alaska encouraged, before sarcastically whispering, “and you can touch yourself and think of me.”

“Literally what I had planned,” Sharon admitted, making Alaska cackle.

“I’m doing it right now,” Alaska said breathily, softly gasping and playing it up for Sharon, whose knees almost buckled as she walked up her stairs to her bedroom.

“You’re gonna drive me crazy,” Sharon whispered. “You already are.”

Later that night and under the covers of her bed, Sharon predictably followed through, her slick walls throbbing around her fingers as she climaxed, Alaska on her mind as the brunette’s name tumbled out of her mouth while her limbs shook.  

But as she rolled onto her side and waited for sleep to come, a feeling of guilt settled in her stomach. Her own daughter might have cried herself to sleep tonight, and what was Sharon doing? Having semi-phone sex with another Year 1 mother?

You’re a horrible parent, a sick voice in the back of her mind spat. You’re doing nothing to help your daughter.

Sharon squeezed her eyes shut, willing the voice to die as tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. She had to do something.

*

“The library is open!” Ms Monsoon cheered, snipping the red ribbon she had tied around the bookshelf.

Most of the parents clapped, shooting their children over the top smiles in a bid to make them more enthusiastic. Sharon and Alaska stifled a laugh, standing at the back of the classroom with a handful of other mothers and fathers.

“Parents, you can get ready at your designated reading spots outside,” Ms Monsoon smiled before letting the students pick a book of their choice from the shelf to read aloud.

“I got the quadrangle bench, what about you?” Alaska asked Sharon as they began to walk out of the classroom, her eyes on her little Cracker waiting patiently for the throng of children to part so she could grab a book.

“Sand pit bench,” Sharon said distractedly, her eyes on her own daughter as well, who was already enthralled in the pretty pictures of her book. Sharon frowned slightly, not sensing a drop of tension between Aquaria and Vixen, who were sitting at the same group table, a cup of coloured crayons spilled between them as they politely shared. If Aquaria hit Vixen, they sure seemed to be getting along just fine now.

“Good luck in those then,” Alaska winked, shooting a look down at Sharon’s heels before she laughed and walked across the school’s courtyard, the natural highlights in her brunette hair glistening in the morning sun.

“Hey,” Sharon laughed under her breath, a sense of warmth tingling in her chest that wasn’t from the whether.

A current of adrenaline ran through Sharon as she made her way to her designated reading spot. Being with Alaska made her heart race in ways she forgot it could. And being in public with her was thrilling. No one knew about them, and it was almost euphoric to have a fun little secret. For a while there, Sharon became used to living with a secret, a terrible one she would cover with concealer and fake smiles.

But Alaska had brought out the best in Sharon. She felt special and powerful and sexy, all these emotions and qualities that had lain dormant inside her for longer than she initially realised.

Sharon reached the bench and slowly sat down, her heels sinking gradually into the sand beneath her. It was a beautiful day to sit outside, the grassy oval was a vivid green and birds were chirping in the leafy trees surrounding them. Even though certain events had left a bitter taste in her mouth, Sharon was so happy to have Aquaria at RuPaul Primary.

Children started to stream out of the classroom, branching off to their designated volunteer. They had a strict five-minute reading session with each child so the entire class could swiftly move onto spelling at a sharp 9:25am. A blonde girl with rosy cheeks skipped across the oval to Sharon, the first of the five children she would listen to.

“Hi honey,” Sharon smiled, ignoring the sand the little girl unknowingly kicked into her heels. She made a mental note to dust her feet off before hopping in her car.

“Hi, I’m Blair,” the girl smiled, opening up a book about fairytales.

Even though Blair struggled and needed a lot of help, she loved putting on a different voice for each character.

“That was great!” Sharon said honestly as they finished. “You should be an actress when you’re older. You’re really good with different characters.”

Blair stared at Sharon with wide eyes before her face split into a huge smile.

“Okay!” she chirped, before racing back to the classroom to bring out the next student.

Sharon listened to Asia next, who struggled at first, but understood the more difficult words with Sharon’s guidance. Then Cracker, or Brianna, came out. She smiled and excitedly raced over to Sharon when she realised she was the volunteer she would be reading to.

“Hi Miss Sharon,” Cracker said happily, taking a seat next to Sharon on the bench.

“Hi Brianna,” Sharon smiled.

“You can call me Cracker,” she replied, opening her book.

“Okay Miss Cracker,” Sharon agreed.

Cracker read the slowest out of all the children Sharon had listened to so far, but she also read the most perfectly, as if every word was special. Her little index finger trailed along the pages, and Sharon couldn’t stop smiling as she pictured Alaska reading books to Cracker when she was even smaller, just like Sharon did with Aquaria.

“That was fantastic!” Sharon said honestly. “Well done Cracker, you did really well.”

Cracker looked at Sharon and smiled, but it was almost like her eyes were studying Sharon’s face.  

“My mummy says you’re nice,” Cracker said finally.

Sharon’s eyebrows rose, her heart speeding up like before as she glanced across the oval to where Alaska was sitting listening to another child.

“I… think your mummy is nice too,” Sharon said evenly, unsure of how to respond as she failed to wipe the smile off her face. I think she’s very nice, Sharon thought.

Cracker nodded before slipping off the bench and waving goodbye to Sharon.

Then another little girl called Eureka came out, and Sharon remembered how Alaska said she had to be held back a year. Eureka was lovely, a bubbly, talkative girl who kept getting distracted and wanted to talk to Sharon instead of read.  

Sharon checked her watch as Eureka walked back to the classroom, noting she was up to her final child of the morning. She looked up, her chest tightening as the last little girl crossed the oval to meet her.

“Hello Vixen!” Sharon said excitedly, trying to overcompensate for her sudden nervousness.

What the fuck was Miss Monsoon thinking putting Vixen in my reading group? Sharon thought, smiling at Vixen. Did she not remember the conflict?

“Hello,” Vixen said politely, taking a seat on the same bench as Sharon but leaving a sizeable gap.

Vixen read perfectly. Her pacing was excellent, her emphasis was point on, and she barely stumbled.

“You read so well, Vixen!” Sharon said encouragingly when Vixen finished the short book in minutes.

Sasha was an academic, she probably had one of those Beauty & The Beast floor to ceiling libraries in her home, complete with a ladder and all.

“I know,” Vixen replied honestly, yet again surprising Sharon with her confidence and candidness.

“Great,” Sharon concluded.

An awkward energy hung in the air. Sharon checked her watch and saw they still had two entire, long minutes until their session was up.

“Do you read a lot at home?” Sharon asked, making conversation.

“Yes,” Vixen replied, looking in her direction but not meeting her eye.

Sharon nodded, suddenly out of things to say. She wracked her brain to think of another way to fill time, but only one question blocked out all other thoughts.

Casting a glance around at the distracted parents and children spread out far away across the oval, Sharon swallowed her nerves and bit the bullet.

“Vixen,” Sharon started, dropping her voice, “I just wanted to ask once more, now that some time has passed…” and your hovering mothers aren’t here, she thought, “…if you could confirm who it was who hurt you?”

Vixen was still, her eyes refusing to meet Sharon’s.

“It was Aquaria,” she said finally.

Sharon nodded, wanting to create ‘an understanding’ space for Vixen to talk in. But there was nothing Sharon could understand about Aquaria apparently hitting Vixen.

“Are you… sure?” Sharon asked, treading carefully, before rushing the rest of her words out. “I just want you to know that if there is someone who has hurt you and you don’t want to get a friend into trouble, or you’re scared to tell on them—“

Sharon instantly regretted her words as a once cool, calm and collected Vixen snapped. She scooted off the bench, facing Sharon before raising her voice.

“I’m not scared!” Vixen yelled. “I’m not a baby! Aquaria hit me. I keep saying this and you won’t believe me!”

Sharon panicked, not knowing how to tame the bear she had just poked.

“It’s okay, Vixen, listen, it’s okay!” Sharon attempted in a hushed voice, but it was no use.

Vixen didn’t calm down at all. Instead, she pulled one leg back and kicked sand straight at Sharon.  

“Hey!” Sharon protested, throwing her hands up as she felt tiny grains scratch her eyes. She stood up quickly, but her stupid choice of heels fell victim to the sand pit beneath her feet. In an instant, her footing gave out as her pointy heel was swallowed in the sand, her ankle twisting sharply as a result.

“Fuck!” Sharon cursed, forgetting to censor herself as hot pain burned through her ankle. She fell onto her hands and knees as her face contorted in pain.

“What is going on here?” a voice cried, getting louder as it ran towards the sand pit.

Sharon looked up as another mother ran to her rescue.

“Oh, thank you!” Sharon said graciously. “I think I twisted my—“

But Sharon was cut off as she realised the concerned mother wasn’t focusing on her.

“Are you okay, Vixen?” the mother said urgently, touching Vixen’s shoulder protectively before shooting Sharon a death glare.

Vixen shrugged her shoulders, and the woman’s comforting hands off, before nodding.  

“Can I go inside?” Vixen asked the other mother calmly. She shot Sharon, who was still crumpled in the sand pit squeezing her ankle, one last look. Just like the one she had given Aquaria on that first day, it was unreadable, a mature demeanor settling over her young features.

“Of course!” the other mother said, almost ushering Vixen away from Sharon. When she was safely out of earshot, the woman turned to Sharon.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, literally looking down on her.

“And who the hell do you think you are?” Sharon bit back, glaring at the short lady above her.

“I’m Phi Phi O’Hara, and I just watched you attack Vixen Velour-Coulee,” Phi Phi bragged, her voice dripping with triumph.

Sharon rolled her eyes dramatically. Of course this was happening to her. Alaska’s words came back into her mind, and she instantly knew Phi Phi was as fake as they came. She could practically see her salivating at the ‘drama’ she had just witnessed. This would no doubt give her some brownie points amongst the other mothers.

“I didn’t attack Vixen,” Sharon explained, deciding to stay on the ground as she couldn’t manage standing up, and Phi Phi sure as fuck wasn’t offering her a helping hand. “I just asked her again in a safer space and—“

But Phi Phi wasn’t interested in Sharon’s explanation as she cut her off, scoffing to herself as she shook her head from side to side.

“You are so out of line,” Phi Phi threatened.

Sharon’s blood boiled. This woman was desperate for a fight, and with the pain throbbing in her ankle, she was more than happy to throw down.

But like an angel descending from above, Alaska rushed over as she saw Sharon on the ground and Phi Phi, of all people, standing above her.

“Sharon! What happened?”

“She attacked Vixen,” Phi Phi smugly, as if Alaska would eat this up.

“Oh my god,” Sharon yelled in frustrated, suddenly feeling exactly like Aquaria the day this all happened. “I didn’t!”

“Phi Phi, Jinkx wants us back inside,” Alaska said, not looking at Phi Phi at she slipped Sharon’s heels off her feet in a reverse Cinderella moment. She looked up at Phi Phi when she realised she still hadn’t moved. “You can go now.”

Alaska stared her down until finally Phi Phi retreated, a fight still bubbling inside of her.

“I rolled my ankle,” Sharon said softly as Alaska sat in the sandpit with her.

“Now I feel bad for joking about your heels,” Alaska smiled before pressing her cool fingers to Sharon’s inflamed skin. “Wow, okay, your ankle is really hot. We need to put pressure on it so it doesn’t swell. Can I take you to the school office? It’s probably nothing serious, but you can’t walk on it, especially in these.”

Sharon nodded, her mood completely deflated after the reading fiasco. She was more than happy to let Alaska take care of her.

“I was just—“ Sharon started up, anger boiling inside of her as she tried to explain herself.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Alaska said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind Sharon’s ear before dropping her hand quickly and looking around at the deserted oval. “You don’t have to explain right now. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

*

After stopping by the classroom to drop off their brief notes about each child’s reading ability, Alaska waved quickly to Cracker before rushing out and helping Sharon hobble through the grounds.

“She’s such a fucking bitch, you were so right about Phi Phi,” Sharon seethed as they sat in the school’s administration office, every muttered swear word dulling the pain in her ankle momentarily.

“It’s just your luck she was there,” Alaska said as she shook her head before laughing at the series of unfortunate events. “Drama is just attracted to you.”

“Christ, I know,” Sharon sighed before finding herself laughing drying as well. She was so grateful that Alaska and her could still find the slightly humorous side to a saga that was just getting worse.

“Sorry for the wait,” the school’s receptionist said as she rounded her high desk and came out to meet Alaska and Sharon. “Oh, Alaska!“

“Raja!” Alaska exclaimed excitedly, standing from her seat and hugging the statuesque, grey haired receptionist. “Sharon, this is Raja! We’ve known each other for years, all the mother’s go to her yoga class.”

“Not to mention you transformed practically half the gorgeous furniture in my home,” Raja replied, laugh lines forming around her eyes as she smiled.

“Nice to meet you,” Sharon said, her smile barely reaching her eyes as she squeezed her ankle.

“She twisted her ankle in the sandpit,” Alaska explained, a genuine smile now actually pulling at Sharon’s mouth at how much of a fool she sounded like. “You wouldn’t happen to have an adult sized compression bandage, would you?”

“Hmm,” Raja thought, looking at Sharon’s feet. “No, but we have normal bandages, that’ll do the trick.”

In moments, Raja had knelt down and wrapped Sharon’s ankle before securing the bandage with a small clip. There was something so comforting about Raja. Her maturity, paired with Alaska’s supportive presence, helped mend Sharon’s dejected mood – and her sore ankle.  

“All better,” Raja said as she stood up and returned to her seat behind her desk. “Don’t worry about bringing the bandage back. But I just need to grab your details to keep a record.”

“Sure,” Sharon said as she slipped her heels back on and took Alaska’s hand to help her stand up. “Sharon Needles, and my mobile is—“

“Oh,” Raja interrupted, looking up at her through her thick glasses, “you’re Sharon Needles?”

Raja’s eyebrows were high, her eyes inquisitive.

Sharon tensed.

“Wow, so does everyone know about the Orientation Day debacle?” Sharon joked, not in a joking mood at all as she shot Alaska a confused glance.

Raja was quiet for a second as she sat on a secret.

“I don’t know anything about that, but I do know that a certain Phi Phi O’Hara just posted an online petition in the mother’s group Facebook page to get a certain Sharon Needles and her daughter booted from RuPaul Primary.”

The room began to spin.

Twisting her desktop screen around to show the two mothers, Raja watched as their faces simultaneously went through a series of emotions. First confusion, then fear, then anger as Sharon’s frame began to shake.  

There, shining brightly on the monitor before them, was the online petition Phi Phi O’Hara and her best friend Charlie Hides had created. A bold title screaming PARENT PETITION headlined the garbage as a paragraph called upon the parents in the community to “band together” to have Sharon and Aquaria “removed”.

“… ‘on the grounds of bullying and racism’… ‘they should not be here, this is a school for kind people, not people who bully’…” Sharon whispered, her voice quivering as her eyes glowed with fury and tears. “Bullying? And racism? This has nothing to do with Vixen or Shea being black, oh my god, oh my god.”

Even though Sharon’s tone was hushed, it verged on hysterical, a sharp contrast to the formal, conservative interiors of the school’s administration office.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Alaska said, matching her hushed tone as she wrapped an arm around her shaking frame and held her tightly.

“This happened minutes ago, they were planning this,” Sharon’s voice hitched, the breakdown she was trying so desperately to fight now wrapping its grip around her throat.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Alaska hushed her. “It’s fucking ridiculous, no one is going to sign it.”

“There’s already four signatures!” Sharon whined, tears brimming in her eyes as she felt her world crumble.

She had tried so hard to ignore this drama, swallow it back, push it down, but now it was all coming racing up, thick and fast, and Sharon couldn’t hold it together anymore. This was getting out of her control, and while it was never in her control to begin with, the thought of this witch-hunt against not only her, but Aquaria too, made her sick. This had gone too far.  

A single sob bubbled out of Sharon. Blinded by tears, she pulled herself out of Alaska’s tight hold, racing for the exit as she pushed her weight against the heavy glass door of the administration office, ignoring the sound of Alaska’s calls.

She bounded through the grounds as fast as she could in this state, her tears and weak ankle slowing her down as she made her way through the parking lot to her car.

The past few days spun around in her mind, and the fact that it had only been three days since school started made her want to cry harder.

Every time Sharon interfered, it blew up in her face. After defending her daughter, she had suddenly made enemies. Not only that, but it was Aquaria who had to face the consequences, left to be the one excluded on just her second day of school.

Sharon’s attempts at talking to Vixen, her determination to get to the bottom of this, had gone so horribly wrong that the fate of their enrolment was now in jeopardy.

It was when she finally reached her car and was rummaging around in her bag looking for her keys when another pair of heels on the concrete finally caught up to her.

Sharon unlocked the car before sitting inside and not turning the engine on. Alaska opened the passenger side door and sat inside.

It was only in the deafening silence of the car did Sharon finally uttered her biggest fear, for once speaking aloud the one thought she was previously too terrified to manifest.

“Maybe Aquaria did hit Vixen.”

Alaska inhaled sharply.

“You know she didn’t.”

“But what if she did,” Sharon whispered, fresh tears streaming down her face. She didn’t even bother to wipe them away.

“You raised a beautiful, caring, kind little girl, you said yourself she would never hurt a fly,” Alaska argued.

Sharon shook her head. She couldn’t help herself from disagreeing.

“I’m gonna tell you something, and you have to stay calm,” Sharon said, sniffling.

The expensive leather of her seat squeaked as she shifted to face a concerned Alaska. But Sharon couldn’t meet her eye. She instead looked at her shoulder as she licked her lips, tasting salty tears.

“I left Aquaria’s Dad for a few reasons. One was that I didn’t want to be with him, the other was that afterwards… when I wanted a divorce, he started hitting me.”

Sharon stole a glance at Alaska’s eyes. They were already red rimmed and glazed with tears, while her lips were pressed into a thin line.

“He never laid a finger on Aquaria. I wouldn’t let him. She never saw him hit me, she never heard it. She was never exposed to violence.”

Sharon’s voice hitched as she said what had been playing on her mind since the minute Vixen accused Aquaria.

“But what if she like, has it in her?” Sharon whimpered, a dirty feeling of shame swallowing her as she dared to doubt her own child’s word.

“No, Sharon, stop,” Alaska demanded, her voice cracking as tears slid down Sharon’s wet cheeks.

Sharon breathed in short, sharp little intakes of air, and it was only when Alaska grabbed her hand and squeezed it almost painfully in her own did the potential panic attack lessen.

“Breathe,” Alaska demanded, ready to drag her from this poisonous mindset. “Look at me.”

Sharon’s frantic eyes met Alaska’s, who had a vicious look in hers.

“Listen, Aquaria didn’t hit Vixen,” Alaska stated, her voice full of conviction, partly because she believed Aquaria, mostly because Sharon’s abusive past had lit a protective, raging fire inside her heart. “You’re her mother, for goodness sake. You know it in your heart that she would never hurt anyone. And this is what they want. This is what Sasha and Shea want, and what fucking Phi Phi and Charlie wants with their stupid fucking, ass kissing petition. Don’t let them win.”

Sharon stared at Alaska, her tears subsiding during Alaska’s tirade. Alaska released her vice like grip on Sharon, blood now blossoming through their white hands. Neither of them expected that to come from Alaska, yet they both needed it.

Without words, they leaned closer, wrapping their arms around each other as best they could in the awkward confines of the car. Sharon buried her face in Alaska’s hair, breathing in the floral scent of her perfume as Alaska protectively rubbed her back.  

She never wanted to let go of Sharon, and she never wanted Sharon to hurt again. Her heart squeezed as something shifted between them, Sharon’s willingness to open up about her past solidifying something deeper in their future.

Sharon mumbled something softly before lifting her head from Alaska’s embrace and repeating it.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her lips inches from Alaska’s. Her wet lashes fluttered against her tear streaked cheeks as she felt Alaska’s breath dance across her skin. Leaning forwards, she yearned to close the gap, to have the warmth of Alaska’s mouth on hers.

But just as she did, her phone lit up in her lap, buzzing to alert its owner of a new email.

They both looked down, and Sharon’s brows knitted together as the unfamiliar sender’s message began to take shape.

“It’s Shea,” Sharon mumbled, swiping the message open.

“What does she want?” Alaska asked urgently as Sharon silently read the message.

There was a beat of stillness before Sharon spoke, her voice tired and dejected.

“She already knows about the sand pit. She wants to meet with me, today, this afternoon, to discuss it.”

Sharon sat back in her diver’s seat before laughing dryly and turning to face a worried Alaska.

“Things are about to go down. This is gonna get ugly.”

*

A/N: This is a vague crossover with Big Little Lies. If plot points look similar, that is why. I do not take any credit for Big Little Lies or the similarities whatsoever.

,

[bonannowasright-blog]

Behind the futuristic promise of a world of fully linked people and objects, when cars, fridges, watches, vacuums, and dildos are directly connected to each other and to the Internet, there is what is already here: the fact that the most polyvalent of sensors is already in operation: myself. 'I' share my geolocation, my mood, my opinions, my account of what I saw today that was awesome or awesomely banal. I ran, so I immediately shared my route, my time, my performance numbers and their self-evaluation. I always post photos of my vacations, my evenings, my riots, my colleagues, of what I’m going to eat and who I’m going to fuck. I appear not to do much and yet I produce a steady stream of data. Whether I work or not, my everyday life, as a stock of information, remains fully valuable. 'Thanks to the widespread networks of sensors, we will have a God’s eye view of ourselves. For the first time, we can precisely map the behavior of masses of people at the level of their daily lives,' enthuses one of the professors. The great refrigerated storehouses of data are the pantry of current government. In its rummaging through the databases produced and continuously updated by the everyday life of connected humans, it looks for the correlations it can use to establish not universal laws nor even 'whys,' but rather 'whens' and 'whats,' onetime, situated predictions, not to say oracles. The stated ambition of cybernetics is to manage the unforeseeable, and to govern the ungovernable instead of trying to destroy it. The question of cybernetic government is not only, as in the era of political economy, to anticipate in order to plan the action to take, but also to act directly upon the virtual, to structure the possibilities. A few years ago, the LAPD bought itself a new software program called PredPol. Based on a heap of crime statistics, it calculates the probabilities that a particular crime will be committed, neighborhood by neighborhood, street by street. Given these probabilities updated in real time, the program itself organizes the police patrols in the city. A founder cybernetician wrote in Le Monde in 1948: 'We can dream of a time when the machine a gouverner will - for good or evil, who knows? - compensate for the shortcomings, obvious today, of the leaders and customary apparatuses of politics.' Every epoch dreams the next one, even if the dream of the one may become the daily nightmare of the other. The object of the great harvest of personal information is not an individualized tracking of the whole population. If the surveillants insinuate themselves into the intimate lives of each and every person, it’s not so much to construct individual files as to assemble massive databases that make numerical sense. It is more efficient to correlate the shared characteristics of individuals in a multitude of 'profiles,' with the probable developments they suggest. One is not interested in the individual, present and entire, but only in what makes it possible to determine their potential lines of flight. The advantage of applying the surveillance to profiles, 'events,' and virtualities is that statistical entities don’t take offense, and individuals can still claim they’re not being monitored, at least not personally. While cybernetic governmentality already operates in terms of a completely new logic, its subjects continue to think of themselves according to the old paradigm. We believe that our 'personal' data belong to us, like our car or our shoes, and that we’re only exercising our 'individual freedom' by deciding to let Google, Facebook, Apple, Amazon or the police have access to them, without realizing that this has immediate effects on those who refuse to, and who will be treated from then on as suspects, as potential deviants. 'To be sure,' predicts The New Digital Age, 'there will be people who resist adopting and using technology, people who want nothing to do with virtual profiles, online data systems or smart phones. Yet a government might suspect that people who opt out completely have something to hide and thus are more likely to break laws, and as a counterterrorism measure, that government will build the kind of ‘hidden people’ registry we described earlier. If you don’t have any registered social-networking profiles or mobile subscriptions, and on-line references to you are unusually hard to find, you might be considered a candidate for such a registry. You might also be subjected to a strict set of new regulations that includes rigorous airport screening or even travel restrictions.'

The Invisible Committee, To Our Friends

[blue-opossum]

Studying Illusions within Illusions

        Morning of April 22, 2021. Thursday.

        Dream #: 19,848-02. 2 min 56 sec read.

        This entry contains three unrelated dream segments.

        My first dream's setting is undefined but seems like a featureless room on the second floor of an unknown building. I have to go on a journey, but I have to leave someone behind whom I love and who loves me. Although the woman is supposedly my wife, her eyes are pale blue, not green as Zsuzsanna's are. I gaze into her eyes (that I closely zoom in on from several feet away, a perceptual ability not possible in waking life and only a dream attribute after watching television in waking life as a child), which sustains my dreaming experience, as I consider staying, as there is a sense of melancholy from her. The mood is identical to the scene from "Love and Monsters" (from 2020) that we had watched before sleep, when Joel looks into the eyes of a monster crab, linking to the earlier scenario where Clyde says, "You can always tell in their eyes, just look at their eyes." (Even so, the creature's eyes seem to be green in the movie.) My imaginary dream self is seemingly trying to act as Joel.

        Other than my self-evident metacognitive navigation of dreams (and how I respond to the cortical phasing of dreaming, which has zero to do with symbolism in the waking-life sense), they are often influenced by movies more than reality. There are typically at least two random correlations, solely with literal inference, though distorted or of opposite implications (to prevent matching dream content with waking life and corrupting memory sans enigmatic space). In this case, there is the movie's quote about eyes (also a metacognitive association with REM sleep). Many people throughout my life have absentmindedly called me Clyde no matter how many times they have heard the correct pronunciation of my name. The REM atonia identifier is probably subliminal here, as Joel released the monster crab from his chain and control by Cap. (That is likely because mind-body reconnectivity is the fundamental factor of the waking transition, inferring the opposite in my dream in this instance, and electricity used to control the crab, associated with attaining consciousness, was involved.)

        Another dream segment involves an unfamiliar woman standing with two of her daughters in an unknown indoor public area. She introduces them to two of her other daughters, who are sitting on a bench. All the girls are about the same age, probably around 16 years old. The sitting daughters are the ones she had lived with throughout her life. She had also lived with the others, but the narrative makes no sense. (This dream's influence came from the Just For Laughs Gags YouTube Channel, including where they played tricks on people using young twins.)

        In another dream, an unfamiliar female sleep-wake monitor of about 25 years old is the final imaginary persona. Zsuzsanna is sitting directly to my right. (This orientation is atypical though I sat on her left last night on the couch for a short time, which I rarely do. We are sitting in single plastic chairs in my dream.)

        The sleep-wake monitor is sitting perpendicular to us and adjacent to the wall on the left, facing the center of the room as Zsuzsanna and I are. There is a tennis net set up in the room. While Zsuzsanna and I are mostly only studying the post, she is looking at the net.

        I describe to her how the post looks like a pencil (an oversized one). I say how the "point is downward at the bottom with the eraser on the top." She seems puzzled and changes her position (leaning in my direction but not getting up) to try to see what I am seeing but cannot. In contrast, I can see the net at an angle without moving much in addition to the giant "pencil." (Ultimately, this makes no sense at all, as she should be able to see the post just as easily as Zsuzsanna and I.)

        The "pencil" stands for the thinking skills and writing ability of conscious wholeness and awareness, including intelligence, that dreams do not have (although I have successfully read some text in dreams now and then). I am not playing tennis (or opposite the sleep-wake monitor), probably to avoid waking myoclonus. Unfortunately, the casual reader will likely have no clue what I mean (and it relates to metacognitive dreaming, not real life).

[maladaptivereverie]

Madd Asks!

This was created by @maddcastle so go check them out!

1. Do you use a repetitive motion to stimulate daydreams (rocking, pacing, etc.)? What is it/are they? Can you daydream without repetitive movement?

I typically pace or rock in a chair. I can daydream without doing this but most times I can’t control myself and have to pace or rock.

2. Do your daydreams get violent? How do you feel about them? How do you respond to them?

My daydreams tend to get violent very often. When it first happens, I don’t really notice however I will snap out of it and feel pretty uncomfortable. Unfortunately, I typically can’t stop it and am left to the mercy of my violent daydreams

3. When are your daydreams the happiest?

My daydreams tend to be very happy immediately after I come home from school or being with other large groups of people. It seems that the more time I have to daydream, the less happy they become

4. Do you daydream in first person perspective? Do you have a parame/avatar?

While I do have a parame, I don’t daydream in first person.

5. Do you have (a) linear daydream(s)? How long has it/have they been running?

I have a semi-linear daydreams. I’ve been daydreaming about the same group of paras for about six years now. The best way to describe what I mean is to give an example: I have my main group of paras who are just trying to make something of their life. Sometimes I’ll think of something interesting but I don’t know if it will fit in that universe so I jump to another. Then I take whatever happens in that universe that I liked and put it back in the original one.I’m not sure if that made any sense but yeah...

6. How did you discover you had madd? How do you feel about it?

I just so happened to come across a blog that talked about it and when I read more about it, I had never been so relieved in my life. It made me so happy to see that there were other people who understood how I was feeling. Up until that point, I had felt so much like an outcast and so strange about the fact that I spent hours of my day pacing and daydreaming about made up people. SO I guess in short I was excited.

7. How do you feel about your characters/paras? Have you ever fallen in love with them?

I love them. All of them, even the most terrible ones. They just hold a really special place in my heart. And yes, I have fallen in love with the,, one in particular now.

8. Do you know any other MD’ers personally?

No. None that have told me anyway.

9. How did you feel about it before you knew what maladaptive daydreaming was? Did you think it was something everybody does or that you were unique?

I thought I was so strange for spending all day creating these ‘movies’ of sorts in my head. I knew that I had a problem, though. I just didn’t think anyone else had this problem.

10. What most influences your daydreams? Realtime events? Books? Movies?

Literally anything. Any type of media I consume causes me to daydream. I don’t think one stands out.

11. If you have a parame, please describe them. Are they much like you? How do you feel about them?

My parame is me but cooler, less socially awkward, and actually has talent that they use. I wish I was them and it probably wouldn’t be hard to change myself, however, I just daydream about it instead.

12. Do you have favorite paras? Why are they your favorites?

Two of my paras, Kimber and Nic, are my favorites. Nic is one of the first paras I made. He’s the one I daydream about when I wanna laugh or feel better (or put all my trauma onto). Kimber is the one I’m probably strangely in love with. She’s the one I turn to when I’m stressed or feeling lonely. They’re my favorites because I can daydream about them easily and use them as emotional crutches.

11. How old are the majority of your paras?

They tend to age with me, so right now between 16-20.

12. If you could give your paras any advice, what would you tell them?

Don’t keep secrets that could hurt people.

13. Do your paras appear in a style other than realistic? For example, like anime or in the style of a video game?

It’s sort of a style like Avatar the Last Airbender. I think that’s the best I could describe it. Anime inspired with bits of realism

14. Do you have OCs?

I consider my OCs to be different than my paras so yes. My OCs are characters I can actually make a story out of.

15. Are any of your paras adopted from existing fiction? From real life?

Not adopted but adapted. Most were based on characters from other media. Mostly anime and books like Pokemon and Percy Jackson

16. Where do you get names for your paras?

Sometimes it’s just the first thing I think of but behind the name is where I get a lot of my names from.

17. Do your paras have tragic backstories? Will you share a few?

Yes but it depends on the universe. One example I can give you is Leandra. In this particular universe she witnessed her baby brother’s death which she felt she had caused because of her inattentiveness. Since that they she’s been hesitant to become close to people and aggressively protective of her surviving brother.

18. Are any of your paras deceased? How did they die? How did you feel?

Again, depends on the universe. Most times I’m too affected by it to make it permanent though.. Usually they die by accidents

19. Are your paras human? Mortal?

They are all humans

20. Have any of your paras ever completely disappeared/vanished from the daydream world? Is there a story behind it or was it an unconscious occurrence? Do you think they might return? Do you want them to?

Yes and it’s always an unconscious decision. I would like for them to return and I’ve tried to force it but it’s no use.

21. Have your characters commit crime? Have they been to jail? Are they legally innocent? Are they socially innocent?

Not usually though I have a separate universe just for this. They’ve done illegal things but it’s like under-aged drinking and stuff. And they haven’t gotten caught so...

22. Do your paras often find themselves in dangerous situations? How/why? Do they go looking for trouble? Does trouble look for them?

Yup because they’re all my dumb, irresponsible children. They don’t think and they get involved and stuff they weren’t prepared for.

23. What do you associate with your paras? Colors? Smells? Words?

Colors. It’s incredibly hard for me to associate with a para if they don’t have a color associated with them.

24. Has a para ever broken your heart? Have you ever broken theirs (through a parame)?

Not romantically or anything. Just watching them do incredibly dumb stuff breaks my heart though.

25. Has a para ever made you physically cry?

Yes because I’m an emotional wreck.

26. Do you act out your daydreams? Do you speak to/through your paras out loud?

Yes, most of the time actually. I even try to imitate they’re accents which ends badly. And on more than a few occasions I’ve injured myself through acting because I’m clumsy.

27. Have you ever been caught daydreaming?

Yes, but they didn’t know that. I just play it off rather than explaining.

28. What do you most dislike about being a maladaptive daydreamer? Are there things you like about it?

I hate not being able to control when I daydream. I hate that no matter how tired I am, if I haven’t daydreamed, I physically can’t rest. I do like the fact that I can provide myself with entertainment and even curb my loneliness if only for a few hours.

29. Briefly describe a daydream.

A good example of my daydreams would be a group of paras sitting around at someone’s house or in school joking with each other, which will morph into something violent and/or sexual, which will in turn shift into them getting involved into some sort of gang war (for lack of a better way to describe it). and then back to the group.

30. Do you daydream to music? Is music a necessity to daydream? Do you wear headphones? How loud do you keep the volume?

Yes but it’s not a necessity. Sometimes if I have music I can’t daydream but that’s not often. I keep my headphones incredibly loud. Maybe about two or three notches below max.

31. Do you have models/faceclaims for your paras?

Yes. I spent an entire week on Pinterest looking for faceclaims.

32. Does daydreaming energize or exhaust you?

Depends on the subject matter. Happy daydreams will energize me but darker ones tire me (doesn’t stop me from daydreaming though).

33. Do you think there is a pattern/correlation between your daydreams and how you daydream them? For example, are your daydreams more violent when you’re lying down?

I have more sexual daydreams lying in bed (not purposefully). At school I have daydreams about them being there with my parame (not me myself).

34. Do you have distinct daydream triggers? Do your daydreams come and go as they please?

No. Anything can cause me to daydream. Even sitting here writing this I’ve had to stop to daydream a few times. 

35. Does your mood affect the amount of time you spend daydreaming? Or their intensity?

When I’m in a bad mood I daydream more and often more intensely,

36. Have you ever had daydream block? How did you feel? How did you break it?

No. I’ve never had it.

37. Have you ever had abusive paras? If it is not too sensitive to share, will you tell us about your experience with them?

Yes, but often I try to stop daydreaming about them. They pop up occasionally, which is very distressing, but I do everything in my power to stop daydreaming about them because they typically target my main group of paras.

38. Do your paras directly affect you in thisverse? Do you only interact with them in fictional scenarios or do you find yourself reaching for them in realtime, too? For example, do you converse with them mentally when facing a difficult situation?

I talk to them in boring or stressful situations. Or sometimes I use them to give myself advice or talk myself through a situation.

39. Do you only daydream fantasy? Do you dream about thisverse?

I combine both. For example, I have my paras react to real life events.

40. Do you do research for your daydreams? How much? How often? How deep?

Yes, all the time. Anytime I think of something I don’t know much about, I research. I go pretty deep too. Sometimes I spend more time researching for a daydream than actually daydreaming about it.

41. What was your first maladaptive daydreaming experience? Do you remember it? How did you feel about it?

I can’t really remember though it may have been imagining a child who accidentally murdered someone at a park.

42. When did you know what you did was different?

When I started high school and realized I didn’t really know how to interact with new people. Everyone I had gone to middle school with, I’d known before I developed MaDD, so I couldn’t really tell. In high school, however, I was the new kid who didn’t know anyone so I began to rely even more heavily on my paras.

43. Do you ever daydream through the perspectives of paras of the opposite sex? How is it?

I couldn’t tell you a difference if I noticed one.

44. Do you experience any confusion between fantasy and reality? Does daydreaming leave you in a haze or in a dazed state?

Yes, but it has to do with my thoughts. I have trouble distinguishing between me and my parame’s thoughts. If I’m shaken from a daydream I’ll be very dazed but stopping organically I’m fine.

45. If you have a parame, do you experience any dysphoria because of them?

No, I look very similar to my paame

46. Do you ever rewind your daydreams and re-daydream old material?

I think 90% of my daydreams are just me repeating the same ‘story-lines.’

47. Do you remember your daydreams in detail?

No. I only remember how it made me feel or what changed, Not usually exactly what happened.

48. Do you edit your daydreams? To what extent? How often/how much does your brain block you from controlling things?

I try but I’m pretty much at the mercy of my mind. I can’t really change much that doesn’t want tot change, no matter how much I want it to.

49. Do you get excited when you see or hear a para’s name in thisverse? When you see someone who looks like them? When you see something you associate with them?

Not really. If anything it makes me sad and come to terms with the fact that my paras aren’t real.

50. How might you describe maladaptive daydreaming to someone who does not experience it?

I’d say that for me it’s excessive, immersive  daydreaming that is often times uncontrollable.

Well, thanks for reading if you made it this far. I don’t really know anyone so, please feel free to do this as well.

[donotgogentlyintothatgoodnight]

Stranger Places (a stranger things tale) chapter five: Therapy

Description: Everything changes when Dustin finds his mother’s lifeless body, but he is quickly reminded that he still has family when his older sister comes home. Though she is not the company he wants, can he learn to live with her? Can she readjust to life in Hawkins?

keep reading 

Jackie was dead silent the entire car ride. It was a trait both her and Dustin shared; when they were upset about something, they would refuse to talk or listen to anything anyone had to say. Steve felt anxious from the energy being created. He knew he probably should stay quiet and mind his own business, but his curiosity was getting the better of him.

“So,” he began. “Wanna talk about it?”

“We don’t need to discuss how Carol, Nicole, and Beverly are airheads,” She said, without missing a beat. He let out an awkward chuckle. “Why’d you let them get to you then?”

“It wasn’t just that,” Jackie replied. Without taking his eyes completely off the road, he glanced over at her. She hadn’t moved or switched her position since they got into the car; her arms still crossed, the same curl caressing her cheek, and her eyes locked on the ever changing scenery as they passed through town. “So what else hap-”

“Listen, Steve,” she said finally turning her head to look at him. “I get what you’re doing and I appreciate it, but I’m really not in the mood to talk about it.”

He began to say something else, but decided it wasn’t worth really saying. If she wanted to sit in silence, he’d just have to deal with it.

When they did arrive to the Henderson house, Jackie sat there for a second. Her eyes fell onto the numbers above the garage door. They were rusted and the number two was crooked; the same ones from when they first moved in. Another thing her dad always promised he would fix, but never did. She hated that she was allowing him to even slip into her brain, because he had no place in her life, not even in her thoughts.

“Jackie,” Steve broke her from her trance. “I do have to get back to school.”

“Yeah,” she said, remembering he was skipping.

“Thanks” She told him, unbuckling her seat belt.

“Jackie?” he stopped her, before she could get out. She looked at him with tired eyes. He better make this one quick he told himself. “Give it some time. Things will get better and people will change.”

She rolled her eyes and smirked. “People don’t change, Harrington. At least, not in this town.” She opened the car door and hopped out, closing it behind her. Jackie sped walk to the front door. She fished around for the spare key in the giant pot on the porch, since she forgot hers in her locker with her coat, and let herself in.

Dustin sat in the guidance office directly across from his designated counselor, Mrs. Gonzales; who sat there patiently with a smile on her face and hands folded together on top of her desk. Dustin smiled back at her nervously. He notices the Newton’s cradle sitting on her desk and reaches for it.

“Oh, please don’t touch that,” she tells him, reaching out her hand to stop him.

“Why have it on your desk then?” he asked her. Mrs.Gonzales smiled, as if to see his point. “Dustin how are you feeling?”

He looked at her like he couldn’t tell if she was being serious. “Okay,” he said, dragging out the a and y.

“Dustin,” she began. “You’ve just been through a tragedy. Its okay to not feel okay.”

His eyes darted from one side to the room to the other. “Okay,” he repeated the same way. She was being serious.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“Not really,” he said. Anything he did want to say, he didn’t want to discuss with her.

She closed her eyes and smiled. “That’s okay, you don’t have to say anything to me now. But I would like to start seeing you once a week, every Monday, at this time.”

Dustin slumped back into his chair. Another reason to hate Mondays. Mrs. Gonzales scribbled down a hall pass for him before dismissing him. Dustin started the destination back to class, but came to a hault mid-stride. He looked over to his right into the windows of the library. He backtracked to the entrance, searching for an empty table to make himself comfortable at. Dustin unzipped his back pack and pulled out the book Mr. Clarke had given him. He flipped pass the first few header pages and started at chapter one.

“So you’re interested in learning about energy and its correlation with the afterlife? Let me start off by telling you this book is not a guide on how to resurrect yourself or a step by step how to bring back a deceased loved one from the grave (I recommend studying witchcraft if you’re truly interested). It is simply my theory of how the energy our bodies produce and use while we are alive is recycled after we die, and how we could possibly use this said energy to our advantage while we are still kicking and screaming.”

Mr. Clarke knew exactly how to get Dustin’s attention. He was only a paragraph in and already intrigued. He continued.

“First of all, lets define what energy is. Energy (symbol: E) is the property of matter, usually created by the vibration of molecules interacting with one another, that propels an object. Energy can be created physically or chemically, but can not be destroyed. So what does that mean for us? Our energy is both physical and chemical. We can create it from sleeping, eating, exercising, etc. However, besides just allowing us to move, think, and talk which is incredible in itself, energy can allow us to do so much more than what we are already aware of; such as telekinesis, telepathy, teleportation, even time travel. But, we’ll get more in depth with that in chapter seven.”

“Cool,” Dustin said, continuing to paddle his way through the voyage of knowledge.

Steve made it back to campus just in time for practice. He changed into his Hawkins High t-shirt and gym shorts and got out on the court, stretching his arms and legs out before practice actually began.

“So, did you here orphan Annie’s alive?” he heard one of his teammates say.

“Yeah, wild right? She’s actually sorta cute now too,” another one chimed in. Steve rolled his eyes. Jackie was probably getting this all day. No wonder she wanted to leave.

“Is she that sexy little curly haired brunette I’ve been eyeing all day?” Steve clenched his jaw. Billy knew exactly how to get under his skin, even when he wasn’t trying.

“Don’t waste your time on her, Billy,” Tommy told him. “She was sick back in middle school; had to be moved to a special hospital for it. Don’t wanna catch something from her.”

“She had cancer, you idiot,” Peter, one of their teammates corrected him. “You can’t catch cancer.”

“Still,” Tommy continued. “She’s not normal. She’s a crazy one.”

Billy smirked. “Well, good thing I like ‘em crazy.”

“Fat chance.”

“How much you wanna bet I can get in her pants before the end of this month?” Billy egged on.

“I bet fifty bucks you won’t,” Peter told him.

“Same,” Tommy said.

“You’re on,” Billy told them with a ghoulish grin. “Get ready to lose your allowances, boys.”

Steve’s hand clenched up into a fist. Jackie didn’t deserve this type of ridicule, or to already be preyed on by Hargrove. But before he could act on his emotions, coach blew his whistle.

“Stop gossiping boys. You can do that at your sleepover when you all are painting eachother’s nails and watching pretty in pink. Thomas, off my court.”

Peter came over and gave Steve a light slap on the back. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied and join the rest of the team to do drills.

Jackie sat on the couch staring at the clock. She thought she wanted to be alone. She really didn’t like the silence though, leaving her to get tangled in a web of her own thoughts. She sighed, getting up to look for a spare coat around the house. When she didn’t find one in her own closet, she went to Dustin’s, where she found an oversize wool sweater. This should do the trick, she thought as she pulled it over her head. She grabbed a scarf and hat as well, knowing very well Dustin never wore it if he was willing to leave it behind.

Jackie locked the front door behind her, placing the spare key back where it belonged. She needed to find a way to blow off steam. She knew the exact activity to help her do just that too and hopped on a bus into town. Plugging herself into her walkman, she avoided any possible human interaction with anyone else riding the bus. Thankfully, the trip wasn’t long and she was off within fifteen minutes, heading to the towns training center.

When she entered the gym, Jackie walked straight up to the counter, pretending not to notice that she was the only female there and all the men were staring at her. She rang the bell and a man peaked his head from behind his newspaper. He was big, rugged and intimidating, but Jackie didn’t even flinch at him.

“Are you lost?” He asked her in his deep voice.

“I want to sign up for your kick boxing classes,” she told the man, who raised a brow at her. A few of the men let out a few chuckles her way that she brushed off with ease.

“Sorry, but no.”

“Why not?” she insisted.

“I don’t have someone who could train you.”

“Then you train me,” she retaliated with.

He folded up his paper, setting it to the side. “What makes you think I want to train you.”

“Because,” she began, glancing around the room. Apparently she was the center of entertainment. They were really gonna love this one then. “Because I’m better than any guy you have here.”

There were a few whoops from the men in the gym.

“Little girl, this is a professional gym,” he explained to her, as if she was blind and didn’t know where she was.

“And I’m a professional,” she replied back

“Why don’t you sign up for the cheer squad?” he asked her, patronizingly.

“Because I don’t break nails, I break bones.”

He smiled at her and let out a slight chuckle underneath his breath. “You really want to train that bad? Fine, glove up. Lets see what you’re made of, big shot.”

She smiled and quickly headed over to get sized up for gloves. The young man behind the second counter, who didn’t look too much younger than her smiled. “What size?” he asked.

“twelve ounce.”

He seemed impressed by that alone that she knew her own sizing. He shrugged and handed them to her. “Knock ‘em dead.”

She giggled, braiding her curls. He was the first person not from her past that was actually pleasant towards her. “Thanks.”

Jackie made her way to the ring, where the man from the counter was waiting. He looked at her and let out a big exhale.

“Ready?” she asked him.

He rolled his eyes and put up his guards. “Okay, give me a left, then a right straight.”

Boom! Pow! She knocked her gloves into the padded guards.

“Good,” he praised her. “Now give me a right hook and a left uppercut.”

Pow! Pow! Again, she punched into the guards, making gun-pop like sounds. The man looked at her with amazement. She was disappointed that he found this impressive.

“Come on,” she egged him. “You’ve got anything more challenging? Give me some combos!”

He laughed. “Alright, kid. Throw a 1-2-1-1, then a 1-6-3-2 combo.”

She did them with ease. This went on for the next fifteen minutes. Him throwing combos at her left and right, more difficult as they went on, and her doing them with no hesitation. She could feel herself disappearing, forgetting all about the day and letting her frustration out on the activity at hand.

“Okay, lets stop,” he told her. Jackie frowned. “no,” she said breathless. “Why?”

He laughed. “Because my hands are beaten up and tired,” he said honestly. He threw her a towel. “Come on, kid. Lets go get you a water. You deserve it.”

She smiled, following close behind him with the whole gym in awe of her.

“What’s your name?” he asked, tossing her a water bottle.

“Jackie,” she told him.

“Nice to meet you, Jack. Brodie,” he told her, extending out a hand that she took graciously. “Where’d you learn all that, Jack?”

“Someone told me that it was good for a girl to know a form of self defense,” she began. “I thought it would be better to know how to throw a good punch.”

Brodie chuckled. “Well, you definitely know how to do that.” Jackie smiled, taking a swig from her water. “You’re right. I don’t think any of these pansies here can hold a candle to your lightning.”

She giggled, dabbing her forehead with the towel. “Classes are $30 a pop,” He began but before he could get in another word, her smile disappeared. “I’m sorry Brodie, but I can’t afford that. I have to take care of my kid brother and pay bills. That’s just too expensive for me at the moment,” she apologized, handing back the towel. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

He shook his head at her. “Wait, before you get hot and bothered by the price, I can negotiate with you. I’m not that much of an unreasonable man,” he said with a smile. “how to does $30 a month sound? instead of a class?”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” she said in awe.

“I’m not asking, I’m offering. I want you to train at my gym. You’re good kid, and you know it. Which means you’re not afraid to give it all you got. You just need someone to do the fine tweakin’.”

She smiled, “Thanks, Brodie.”

He ruffled her hair like he did with his boys after a good training sesh. “Be here nine am, saturday, in appropriate attire this time. Not like you’re going to chop wood.”

She giggled. She did look ridiculous in her outfit from school in a hot gym. Brodie disappeared into the back room, and Jackie went to return the gloves she had borrowed. The young man who helped her before gave her a small applause. “You didn’t just knock ‘em dead. You murdered them.”

She laughed, “I guess I took your advice a little too seriously.”

He extended his hand out, “Corey.”

“Jackie,” she introduced herself. “Do you train here too?”

He laughed. “As if. I just work here. I think my dad thinks it’ll make me less gay,” he told her.

“He sounds like a prick,” she mumbled.

He laughed again. “Well, he seemed to take quite the liking to you.”

Her eyes widened as she cursed herself.

“Don’t worry. I don’t think he heard you from back there.”

“Brodie’s your dad?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “He’s a bit of a hard ass, but the man really does have a heart of gold.”

She thought it was kinda sweet how Corey described Brodie, and wished she could say the same for her old man.

“Well, anyway,” he began. “I better get back to work before one of these meatheads tell on me.”

She laughed. “Thanks Corey.”

“Later Gator,” he told her as she exited the gym.

Hey you! Thanks for reading. I’m trying to move things along so that I can possibly start posting more frequently. Just hitting little roadblocks, but we’re still moving! Feel free to like, leave a comment, or message me :) 

[momscookingthebooks]

Chapter Reveal

Title: Payback

Series: Vigilante Justice #1

Author: Kristin Harte

Publication Date: January 25, 2018

#ChapterReveal #Payback #NewRelease #VigilanteJustice #KristinHarte 

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36549869-payback

Synopsis:

In Justice, Colorado, the Kennards run everything, including the only big business in the area. Their sawmill employs most of the town, and the Kennard brothers live up to a long family history of keeping their neighbors and coworkers safe—until a motorcycle club comes to town and starts causing trouble. Big trouble. The kind that ends in funerals. The kind no law enforcement can help them with.  He carries the burden of protecting an entire town Being the oldest Kennard brother, I’ve got a centuries-old promise to uphold—run the family business to give the townspeople jobs and the sort of security they can only find in Justice. When a motorcycle club blows that plan apart, I’ll do anything to make them aware that they picked the wrong town to target. As a former Green Beret, I know just how to sabotage an enemy. The only weakness in my armor is my obsession with a five-foot-nothing blonde who unknowingly holds my heart in her hands. My attraction to her could cost me my life, but I’d sacrifice it all to save hers.  She owes a debt that could cost her life I’ve spent three years hiding out in Justice and paying off a debt to the Soul Suckers, one they’ve decided to collect whether I’m ready to pay or not. When danger lands on my doorstep, one man jumps in to help. Alder Kennard—former Special Forces soldier and current object of all my fantasies. But the Soul Suckers won’t let a debt go unpaid, and with the price on my head rising every day, it’s only a matter of time until they come back for me. Alder would put his life on the line to save mine, which is something I simply can’t afford.  Everyone has a debt to pay, and the only currency I have left is my body. So when the time comes, I’ll trade my life for his.

Purchase Links:

iBooks: smarturl.it/PaybackKH

Amazon: smarturl.it/PaybackKHarte

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2Dtul6N

Nook: http://bit.ly/2mXwvjK 

Chapter 1

“We’ve got a problem, boss.”

If I hadn’t already been in a foul mood, those words would have gotten me there.

“What is it now?”

“Motorcycle gang up on Widow’s Ridge.” Camden Reese—born and bred in Justice, friend of my youngest brothers, and former Marine sergeant—launched into a speech about his team running into some bikers up by the Hansen property. We’d recently signed a contract with Miss Hansen to harvest eighty acres of dead Ponderosa pine on that hill, so anything getting in our way was definitely a problem. A big one.

As Camden laid out the events of the altercation, I checked over the satellite images of the area on my desk, making notes and marking locations. A star on the house to the west where the elderly Miss Hansen still lived, another to the east on the patch of earth where a trailer sat, all alone. The only two residences up that long, rough stretch of road leading to a drop-off on the far west side.

That rocky piece of land sat just outside the city limits, so things like road maintenance were all but forgotten unless the two residents brought them to my attention. No biker would intentionally ride up such a rutted, gravel road without a reason—too hard on their bike and their face if they were trailing someone else.

“He tried to call out Finn, but I squashed that shit,” Camden said, securing every bit of my attention for the moment. Finn—my second youngest brother, one of a set of twins, and the only Kennard ever to spend time in prison. He was also a recovering addict, and I had vowed to my dad that I’d keep him in recovery and not let him backslide. That had been ten years ago, and I still worried about keeping that vow every fucking day.

“What the fuck was Finn doing on a job?” My brother didn’t work for me except for the occasional project, and I knew for a fact he hadn’t been assigned to the Hansen job.

“He’d driven with me to check in on Miss Hansen. We never made it out there, though, because we ran into the bikers on the way up. One guy said some shit about Finn’s drug days, how they missed him over at the strip club in Rock Falls.”

Jesus. “You get a name?”

“Patch on his vest said Spark.”

“Spark.” I sat back, balancing my chair on two legs. “As in plug?”

Camden blinked, a cocky smile breaking across his face. “Yeah, like plug. I didn’t see the other guy’s name.”

“So Spark knows Finn from what…ten, twelve years ago? He look familiar to you?”

Cam shook his head. “Never seen him in town.”

That caught my attention. Justice was a small town planted squarely between two slightly larger towns, all in the middle of fucking nowhere. People didn’t happen into Justice—they came here for a reason.

And if that reason was named Finn Kennard, Spark and his friend needed to be dealt with and quick. “How’d my brother handle the run-in?”

“Finn ignored the bullshit from Spark. I wasn’t as restrained.”

Not surprising. Cam always did have a bit of a temper. “If the sheriff gets called again on you—”

Camden waved me off. “I knocked his legs out from under him and put him on the ground.

Didn’t even leave a mark, I don’t think. But I made my point.”

“And what point was that?” Not that I needed to ask.

“That Kennard Mills would be harvesting the lumber on that side of the hill, and their club had better not have any business up there. They drove off after Spark picked himself up out of the dirt, the other guy saying something about bigger fish.” Camden frowned. “I recognized the other guy.”

“Local?” I couldn’t think of anyone in Justice who rode with an MC, but I might have missed someone. Three hundred plus people were a lot to keep track of.

“No. He came into the truck stop one night when Leah and I were there for dinner.” He blew out a breath and shifted his weight. An almost unconscious gesture, but one that stood out. Normally almost confident to a fault, Cam suddenly seemed nervous, which meant I wouldn’t like what he had to say.

“Yeah?” I prodded, wondering how a night out with his wife would piss me off.

“Leah noticed something was up when she went to the restroom and came to get me. The asshole had Shye cornered in a back hallway and wasn’t letting her pass.”

The snap of the pencil I’d been holding breaking in two might as well have been a gunshot. “And you let him walk away?”

“I had Leah and Shye looking on. I had to.”

Picturing perfect little Shye—at least ten years my junior and so damn sweet, every one of her smiles would give you a toothache—watching as I kicked the shit of some asshole was about as unappealing as a thought could get. I probably would’ve wanted to do the same as Camden and let the guy walk with a warning if I’d been there. I wouldn’t have, but I’d have wanted to.

Because I wanted her, and the idea of Shye being scared of me made my gut sink like a rock. I needed to stop thinking about Shye Anderson. An impossibility as of late, which directly correlated to why my mood had been so foul all day.

I sighed, rubbing my forehead and sitting deeper into my chair, bringing all four legs back to the floor. “All right. So they rode off after you knocked Spark to the ground. Any indication they’d keep hassling you or come back for Finn?”

He shrugged. “Not really, though you never know with these types of guys.”

Lawless, clan-like, arrogant. Yeah. You never knew a damn thing with them. “Did you recognize the club logo?”

“Definitely the Soul Suckers.”

Of course. I’d heard they’d added a clubhouse not too far over the county line to the west. I probably wouldn’t have thought twice if I’d seen their bikes on the highway through town or heading toward the new restaurant on Main Street. I would now, though.

“Might be time to set the club straight on what they can and can’t do as they ride through Justice. I’ll talk to Deacon, see if he knows anyone. Head back to the ridge, and get the Hansen site plot worked out so we can start cruising and marking trees. This might be our last big harvest before the rains come, and I want to take advantage of the summer weather while we have it.”

“We’ll get it done.”

“Good. And if you see Bishop on the mill floor, have him call me.”

Camden nodded, then left without another word, leaving me to stew over this new mess.

Fucking messes all over the place lately, it seemed.  

I looked over my satellite images again, tracing roads and logging paths I’d known my whole life. Acres of Widow’s Ridge pine forest stared back at me, a mottled brown and green landscape. Half the trees stood dead or dying, a sign of the mountain beetle infestation that had nearly bankrupted my late father and destroyed Kennard Mills. But the bug that had nearly killed us had instead left us flush with jobs and cash. The droughts hadn’t stopped this mill, the industry collapse hadn’t either, and the fucking plague of beetles killing the forests around us had actually been a boon instead of a death knell. Everyone in Justice had enjoyed the bonuses beating our sales plans every month brought, and no fucking bikers would make us end that streak. I had a town to employ.

But Justice, Colorado was more than a town to me—it was my responsibility.

The place my ancestors had set down roots. Where they tended to each and every resident over the years, giving families time to grow good, strong roots. Kennard men had run Justice like a homestead for nearly two centuries with the mill as the central business fueling everything else, and I’d live up to the legacy set before me as the oldest living Kennard. That meant making sure people had jobs, food, shelter, and that they felt safe.

Another thing bikers wouldn’t be taking away from us, even though it seemed as if they were trying just that.

An annoying, robotic song interrupted my thoughts. The words “Bishop Kennard”—name of my closest brother who also happened to be my VP of sales and marketing—flashed on the screen of my phone as it played that stupid song again. I swiped to answer and brought the device to my ear.

“Bishop.”

“Camden said you wanted me,” he said, not bothering with a greeting.

“We’ve got trouble on Widow’s Ridge.”

“I heard. Finn all right?” Because, as the second oldest Kennard brother, our family would be the first thing on Bishop’s mind. As it should be.

“Camden thinks so. Let’s run by the bar tonight and be sure, though. And I’ll need you to check in on Miss Hansen—make sure she’s okay out there.”

“Sounds good. I’ll call as soon as we hang up. Anything else?”

“Sell some fucking lumber, Bishop.”

“On it, boss. I’ll be ready to go at six.”

I tossed the phone back onto my desk, the maps snagging my attention again.

One spot in particular, actually, and not the one belonging to Miss Hansen. I ran a finger over the east side of the hill, circling the little trailer on a barren, flat piece of rock. Just outside the city limits, it technically sat beyond my protective net, but Shye Anderson lived in that trailer. New girl in town at only three years since she moved to the area, waitress at the truck stop over in Rock Falls, and the only woman I’d ever met who could drive me mad with frustration and desire all at once.

I’d been ultra-aware of Shye since I first met her. Slightly obsessed, really. The girl captivated me; stole all my attention with her sweet little smile and never let me go. It didn’t hurt that she looked like a damn angel—long, blond hair and big, dark eyes, a tiny little body that I wanted to get my hands on more than anything else. Sweet as honey, that one, but she lived up to her name. She blushed and stuttered around me, avoided my eyes when I tried to catch her gaze. If I pushed too much, she ran, so I held back. Made myself available but waited for her to come to me.

Which is how I ended up eating at the truck stop five nights a week—all on Shye’s shifts. I’d had to up my workouts to keep from getting soft on all the grease and baked goods, but seeing that smile every night was worth it. The coffee—man, that was a harder pill to swallow. How a restaurant could have such bad coffee—especially one based out of a truck stop—was beyond me. I drank cup after cup of the foul brew so she’d come to my table more often to pour me refills. Without the coffee, I didn’t get much time with Shye, so I suffered.

And when I worked? I sent my guys in there. Shye had no family in Justice, so I made sure everyone understood they were to treat her as they would a Kennard. Making my men see her as mine kept them watchful around her. Hell, I paid Bishop to eat his lunches there so he could keep an eye on her, and everyone on my team headed that way at least once a day if I had to go out of town. They mocked me relentlessly for chasing her around like a damned puppy, but I didn’t give a shit. I needed to know she was happy and safe. That she had everything she needed…even if she wasn’t ready to willingly take things from me yet. We’d get there. Three years I’d waited for her to come around, and she would. Eventually. I just had to figure out the right plan.

As I pondered honey-blond hair, sugary smiles, and how many times I could use the excuse of working on the ridge to stop and see her at her place, my phone rang again—Camden, this time.  

I swiped to answer and hit the button for speakerphone. “If you tell me we have another problem, I’m going to toss a grenade in your truck.”

“So I shouldn’t tell you we’ve got a fire on the mountain?”

Motherfucker. The trouble with harvesting the blue-stained wood left behind by the mountain beetle infestation was the trees needed to cure standing for a number of years. But dead trees meant dry trees, and with the droughts of the past few years and the mild winters we’d had, that meant trouble. Big, dry, tinder-type trouble. A single lightning bolt could ignite an inferno, while a forest fire could destroy the whole damn town.

And apparently, we had one to deal with.

“Where?” I grabbed my keys and pressed the mill-floor alarm to get the team’s attention.

“Eastern slope. Just past the Hansen property.”

My steps stumbled, then sped. “That’s by Shye’s place.”

An engine roared in the background. “I’m already on my way there. Two minutes out.”

She could be hurt in two minutes. Dead. Jesus fuck, I was too far away. “Drive faster.”

I hung up and stormed down onto the mill floor. My team stood ready, looking at me expectantly, ready to fight the fires we knew could ruin everything we’d all built here.

“Fire just east of the Hansen site. Let’s get two water trucks up the eastern side of the ridge and send one up to the west side to be safe.” I met the eyes of Gage Shepherd, former Navy SEAL like Bishop and current heavy machinery engineer of Kennard Mills. “It’s close to Shye’s place.”

Without another word, Gage began issuing orders to the team. He understood the severity of the situation from every angle—the loss of our product, the potential for destruction in the town, and the possibility that the woman I had my eye on could be in danger. He’d get shit done for me.

As Gage loaded the water trucks with oxygen tanks and medical equipment—something that made my gut churn—his dog Rex trotted after him, looking as if he was headed for a joyride instead of into a fire. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d been on site at a fire, though. Gage never went anywhere without Rex.

While Gage made sure the team knew where to go and what to do, I raced to my truck. My heart pounded as I started the engine and peeled out of my spot, heading for the ridge where smoke was beginning to turn the sky black above the tree line. Fuck, if Shye was up there, if she was hurt—

I didn’t get to finish my thought because my phone rang right as I turned onto the highway heading toward the mountain. Camden again.

“Tell me good news.”

“She’s not here,” Camden said, sounding slightly out of breath. “It’s her trailer on fire, though.”

“The water trucks are on the way.”

“Don’t think they’ll do any good for her, to be honest, but we need them for the tree line. It’s so dry up here, a single spark could set the whole mountain on fire.”

Confirming my earlier thoughts. Fuck. I yanked the wheel sideways, making a sharp turn onto the road that would take me up to Shye’s place, looking over all the dead, brown pine on the hillside as I flew over the rutted, gravelly road. “Gage had the team rolling out right behind me. I’m four minutes out, though.”

“Want me to call the fire department in Rock Falls?”

Wouldn’t do any good at that point, which was why Kennard Mills had as many water hauling trucks as we did. “No use, though you’d better call the sheriff.”

“That useless piece of shit? What for?”

Useless wasn’t the term I’d use—corrupt sounded better for the county sheriff we were forced to deal with. I didn’t have time to correct Camden, though. “He’ll throw a tantrum if he’s not informed. Knowing him, he won’t come out to investigate anyway. Just make the call.”

“Yeah, got it…hang on.” Voices yelled in the background, and the sound of Camden moving fast created static on the line.

“Cam?”

“We’ve got a problem.”

That phrase spoken about my girl’s place made me want to growl my frustration to the universe. “What fucking problem?”

“There are motorcycle tracks in the dirt around her property. Lots of them.”

Rage unlike anything I’d felt exploded in my chest. “Call the sheriff and put the word out—anyone sees a fucking Soul Sucker in Justice, I want to know about it.”

I hung up and threw my phone across the bench seat before taking the switchback turn way faster than I should have. Not that the worry burning in my gut had anything to do with me—Shye owned that ache.

Shye may not have known it, but she was mine. I’d do whatever it took to protect her.

And if this fucking motorcycle club had threatened my girl?

I’d gut them and leave their bodies for the predators.

About the Author:

Kristin Harte started off as a chemistry major in college but somehow ended up writing romances featuring ex-military heroes and the women who knock them to their knees…literally and figuratively. She likes drinking in the shade, snuggling under a warm blanket on a cold evening, and researching how to blow things up. Her children know nothing of what she writes, and her husband just hopes he’s not at their Chicago-ish home the day the government shows up to confront Kristin about her Google search history. When not writing good men doing bad things, Kristin can be found writing paranormal romance as Ellis Leigh or co-writing naughty novellas as London Hale.

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