#i hate that so many people in our neighborhood just let their cats wander like this because it worries me

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

whose son is this and where are his parents

[whiskyblu]

Ok the fuckboy allegations agains Jae eon are making more sense.

Ep 2 starts with Na Bi and Jae On about to kiss under a tree, then he gets a call, and has to leave.  

Enter Best Girl Bit Na trying to explain to Na Bi

“Flowers don’t bloom for just one butterfly….he’s like a flower, a symbol of seductive beauty that withers once its plucked…and you don’t know how to keep things casual.”

And now that Na Bis been warned, Best Girl Bit Na proceeds to support and enable Na Bi to have as many orgasms as possible before she gets her heart broken. 

And thats when I realized, I’m the fuckboi here. Like I’m pretty sure most of the people calling JaeOn a fuckboy would say the same about me because, while I’m not Song Kang Hot (bc really who tf is?) or as calculated about it as Jae On, that’s pretty much how I relationship. Like a neighborhood cat that wanders from house to house, no one knows who it technically belongs to, but everyone lets it in their house, feeds it, loves it, and lets it back out when its ready.  If this dynamic does not spark joy in you, I’m probably not a good fit lol

Bit Na gets demoted from best girl to fuck girl for a bullshit speech about how men and women can’t be friends. -.- 

Ok here’s where I get annoyed with jae eon, dude takes Na bi to a club, and she clearly hates it and has her ears covered and wants to leave. And he just acts cute and gently manipulates her into dancing with him and ‘having fun in spite of herself” cuz she’s so into him. Both cheesy and obnoxious. If it’s not fuck yea, it’s no my dude. In everything else as in sex.

Ok this part is dumb, too.

Nabi walks out of the club to meet Jae eon, who’s smoking outside. A girl gets to JE before Nabi does and clearly knows him, asks if he wants to come hang out with them, asks if he’s with anyone. A perfectly reasonable friendly interaction.

Nabi gets all sad and insecure, and Jae Eon…he reacts the way an insecure mono person would want him too, but it’s rude and stupid. He like. Looks at NaBi, looks kind of annoyed and nervous, and then puts an arm around NaBi and is all “i’m with her you can hang out without.” Girl suggests they can all hang out together, NaBi is like “no I can leave its fine!” -.-

Like. The appropriate way to handle that interaction is to be friendly, introduce everyone “i’m here with this person to night, we’re gonna hang out on our own. See you next time!” and everyone fucks off their separate ways. 

But no. it’s all…tense and dumb. 

Ok so I left a thing out.  Theres this butterfly theme in the show. NaBi, I think, means butterfly, or sounds like butterfly in korean. JE has a Thing for butterflies. Like a cat lady, but butterflies. And the first time NaBi and Jae Eon met, he beat her at darts, and “the winner grants the loser a wish.” His wish was to draw a butterfly on her forearm in marker. Very cute, she didn’t wash it off, blah blah. 

When he saw her again, he was like “oh its still there, it’s water based marker it should be gone by now.”

So, enter Random Club Girl, she’s got the same butterfly on her arm and its fresh. So, you know. More insecurity for NaBi

NaBi asks about the butterfly and he’s like “she did that on her own, she must’ve wanted to see how I’d react…she was a little obsessed with me and delusional.”

Squints ok yellow flag. That could be true. Or bullshit. Or “she wanted to date and I didn’t and then she wouldn’t leave me alone.” All plausible, but kinda shady. So, point in the fuckboy column.

The green flag, tho. Is that dude communicates. Addresses the situation head on, checks in. Asks here ‘hey why’d you try to ditch me?” and then proceeds to be reassuring and. You know. Normal about it. MonoNabi is unconvinced, and I am annoyed.

UGH fucking ji wan again. “Sol! Your so pretty! Even your eyebrows!” *pets eyebrows* “so what are we doing for lunch?”

Being closeted sucks. Oblivious straight girls suck, even when they are less straight than pre-gay. 

Sidebar. Deeply fucking annoying thing in both kdrama and us stuff: character has some completely insignificant owie, and the other person fusses like they’ve broken an ankle. Bitch it’s a papercut, calm down.

Anyway, like that, and PJ being overly concerned is the thing that makes her think “yeah, no, I gotta nip this in the bud”

-.- Maybe I’m just too old for tv that doesn’t have monsters in it.

*a bunch of unnecessary angst about completely normal dating behavior*

…and then it gets gross. He messages her a lot and she ignores him, and angsts, and has a sex dream about him. Which. I mean. Fair.

Then  she’s in class with him, and she has a Period disaster, so she starts acting uncomfortable and tries to escape, he goes to check on her-and notices she's trying to cover up her butt. So he just wraps a shirt around her waist.

Yeah, total fuck boy *eyeroll*

And then later when GoodFriend BitNa is trying to talk NaBi down from getting her heart broken she’s like:

“The things that make you feel special probably mean nothing to him. He’s nice to everyone without exception.”

DUDE.

He’s perfect. Why? Whis is this a problem? I’m so confused. The only ML with zero red flags and HE’S a fuckboy in a toxic situationship?

MAKE IT MAKE SENSE.

There’s another drunk college kids party, and it gets a little. People hang out at Na bis house, everyone scatters for a minute (cue some cute shit) and Na Bi seek Jae eon kissing one of the other girls

Ok, this part is gross. As soon as he sees NaBi, and tells the other girl “go back inside, I gotta make a phone call” and makes a very sincere-seeming, direct bid to be kissing NaBi instead instead…and she wipes the other girls lipstick off of him and kisses him.

Now I’ve got some fuckin feelings.

Like. He says something dumb like “oh, nbd, the girl just wanted to try kissing, I’d rather be kissing you.”  

So like. Man is either a supervillain, ho edition, and is trying to see how far he can push her, or…idek.

Like. He’s obviously trying to persuade her to become part of the rotation, which is valid. But this just seems fuckin disrespectful to both of them. 

Except if I was flirting with someone at a party, and saw him kissing someone else, it wouldn’t bother me. I mean, ok yes, I’m a human person who gets jealous but…not angry or disapproving. More like “ooh i wanna be smooching them too, get it, girl” you know? Like it wouldn’t bother me to be one of a few people making out with him in one night. 

I miiight even feel weird to watch him ditch her to come make out with me?  

Im also established enm, and very open about it so…different dynamics.

This is me being genuinely annoyed at our boy for the first time

[hottestthingalive]

Changes, Tricks, and Trust

He does what he can. And sometimes, doing what he can means that, when he opens the door for trick-or-treaters while his dad is wrangling Remus into his pirate costume and finds a man holding hands with a kid younger than even Roman and Remus (wearing a scientist costume and a cat costume, respectively,) who introduces himself as “Logan Abbott, and this is Patton. You must be Janus,” he just glares, and slams the door in their faces.

—

In which the Carroll siblings conspire against their father’s new boyfriend, Logan makes a promise, and Janus has a grudge against omelets. 

Notes: Look, okay, we’re all very aware this is two hours past Halloween, and an hour into No-Content November, but I wrote this in a day and am operating under the logic that it is both Halloween and not November somewhere, so let’s pretend we’re all okay with this and move on. Virgil also calls Roman and Remus peanut butter and jelly, which makes up for all my sins.

Roman also knows lots of words he shouldn’t at his age, because I am, in fact, projecting myself at six onto him. Let him have a big vocabulary! 

(He also mispronounces most of the words. This is still projecting. I apologize in advance.)

Many thanks to @smileyzs​, who stayed up far too late to help me edit, and the rest of @waffle-gang-incorrect-quotes​, who had to listen to me ranting about this as I wrote it. Y’all deserve the world. Thank you for putting up with me, and this fic. 

Warnings: Implied gore (but not really), food mentions (mostly candy), a fair bit of angst, Janus manipulating his brothers but not in an intentionally cruel way.

Relationships: Romantic Analogical, familial logicality, familial virgil, janus, roman and remus, platonic loceit, intrulogical, and logince. 

Words: 5328

Ao3

Enjoy!

—

“Roman, Remus,” Virgil says calmly, holding up a knife, stained with guts and gore, the key piece of evidence to the brutal mutilations of two innocents, “who decided to carve ‘Logan is a butt’ into our pumpkins?”

They point at each other, faces the picture of wide-eyed innocence. Virgil is not fooled. 

“Janus, do you know anything about this?” he asks, turning away from the twins to look at his nine year old, who is currently pretending to be very occupied with the book he is reading at the dinner table. Virgil wonders if Janus knows that he hasn’t turned a page in the last five minutes. Probably not. 

“Oh, why would I ever do that?” Janus wonders, looking up from the book, his puppy-eyes matching those of the twins. “It really is too bad though. Clearly, you can’t have Logan over for Halloween anymore. Tragic.” 

Virgil pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Janus, you’re the only one tall enough to reach the knife block, and I found the knife hidden under Remus’ bed. I know it was you three.” He puts the knife down on the table, really hoping the pumpkin guts won’t stain the wood, and says “Kids, remember what we said about playing with knives without adult supervision?”

“Not to do it,” the twins mumble in unison. Janus says “Do it only when we’re in trouble, like defending ourselves from a vicious intruder about to invade our home?” instead, which was not the answer Virgil was looking for, and he’s very sure Janus knows it. 

“Look,” Virgil says, sitting down in one of the chairs that his kids have covered in fake cobwebs and pumpkin stickers, “I’ve already invited Logan and Patton over. And I… I really, really like him. A lot.” He turns a bit red, at that, and ignores Janus rolling his eyes. “But if you guys really think he’s that bad after you meet him tonight, I’ll break up with him, okay? You three are always going to be my top priority. Just promise me you’ll keep an open mind, yeah?” 

“Okay,” Roman agrees, and runs to jump up into Virgil’s lap, burying his head in Virgil’s shoulder. “I’m sorry we messed up the pumpkins and were mean to Mr. Logan, Dad.”

“It’s okay, peanut butter,” Virgil tells him. He expected Roman to be the apologetic one — for a six year old, his son has  developed quite the sense of right and wrong. He’s a bit more surprised when Remus does the same, squirming into the hug and saying “I’m sorry we called him a butt.” He snickers, a bit, which makes Virgil think he’s not all that sorry, but he lets it go. 

“Thank you, jelly,” he says, and looks expectantly at Janus. 

“Sure, whatever,” Janus says, snapping the book closed. “I’m sorry we messed up your decorations, Dad.”

“I don’t care about the decorations, hon,” Virgil reminds him. “I’m just glad you guys didn’t get hurt, okay? No more knives. Now c’mere, Jan.”

Janus begrudgingly joins the hug, wrapping his arms around Virgil and the twins both, and they just sit like that, Virgil and his children, in the quiet of the kitchen. 

“Okay,” he says finally, “let's get you into your costumes, yeah?”

—

Janus just wants his dad to be happy. 

He saw what happened the last times his dad went on dates. He got all excited. Dressed up. Kissed his sons goodbye, smiling and happy and practically dancing on clouds. 

And then, one day, he’d come home a bit off. He’d put on a smile, he’d act like everything was fine, but then he’d make them omelets for dinner. 

Janus hates omelets, because Dad only makes omelets when he’s sad. 

He’s heard his dad talking about it on the phone late at night with Uncle Remy, who isn’t really their uncle, but who calls himself their uncle every time he comes over anyways. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Dad will say, with his voice choked up like he’s crying, and Janus will stand with his back against the door and hear Remy’s voice murmur something soothing, always including curse words about his dad’s ex which Janus isn’t supposed to know the meanings of.

Janus isn’t supposed to be up, on those nights. But he is, usually, staying up after they’re put to bed every time Dad makes omelets for dinner, because he knows that once he hangs up, he can wander into his dad’s room with some mumbled excuse about nightmares and do his best to comfort him without mentioning the breakup at all. 

He does what he can. And sometimes, doing what he can means that, when he opens the door for trick-or-treaters while his dad is wrangling Remus into his pirate costume and finds a man holding hands with a kid younger than even Roman and Remus (wearing a scientist costume and a cat costume, respectively,) who introduces himself as “Logan Abbott, and this is Patton. You must be Janus,” he just glares, and slams the door in their faces. 

“Who was that?” his dad asks as he enters the room, holding Remus in his arms, who is finally in his costume, and not running around naked, as he has been for the last eight minutes. 

“No one,” Janus says, the picture of innocence, and then the doorbell rings again. “I’ll get it!”

“No, it’s fine,” his dad says, already crossing the room towards the door. “I’ve got it, honey. Thank you, though!”

He opens the door, and his face transforms, going from Regular-Dad-Face to his Sappy-Dumb-Blushy-Face. Janus hates the Sappy-Dumb-Blushy-Face.

“Logan!” Dad says, all high-pitched and pink cheeks, and Janus braces himself to be ratted out by stupid, stupid Logan Abbott. Which is a stupid name, too.

“Hello, Virgil,” says dumb, stupid, Dad-stealing Logan, whose voice is all soft, which just gets Janus angrier, because he’s making an effort to sound genuine about it. “And you must be one of the twins. What’s your name?”

Janus feels rather gratified when Remus just sticks out his tongue, though less so when his dad says “Remus, be nice,” in his Please, Kids, We Talked About This voice. “Come in! This is Janus, and Roman should be right down.”

Logan looks over at Janus as the door closes behind him, and Janus crosses his arms over his chest. He waits for him to say “Ah, yes, we met earlier,” or “Right, I remember,” or even “He slammed the door in our faces earlier,” but all that Logan says is “It’s nice to meet you, Janus,” with the kind of smile that sappy people in movies wear. He thinks, reluctantly, that it’s a nice smile, and that the kid, at least, doesn’t seem so bad.

“Octopus!” says the boy beside him, pointing at Janus, with pure glee in his big brown eyes. “Octopus!”

“I’m a kraken,” he grumbles, all kind thoughts towards his dad’s stupid boyfriend and his dumb kid gone. 

This Halloween is gonna suck. 

—

“You’re a dumb scientist,” Remus says to Mr. Logan, arms crossed across his chest, as Roman and Janus mutter together behind them, his dad walking with the little kid who had introduced himself as ‘Patpat!’ and whom the adults call ‘Patton’. His dad has managed to fix the pumpkins, despite all odds, and they look rather nice as they walk away, off into the wilds of the neighborhood for some trick-or-treating. 

Remus has been designated the distraction while his brothers figure out a way to get Logan Abbott to go home and leave their dad alone. “You’re good at being a distraction!” Roman chirps, and Janus mutters “And you won’t betray us like Roman would.” 

He is good at being a distraction. And he loves his dad more than anything (except maybe his brothers) and Janus is very smart, and if he says getting Mr. Logan to go away will make their dad happy, Remus will believe him. 

Plus, it is a dumb costume. 

“Why am I a dumb scientist?” asks Mr. Logan, who doesn’t seem very insulted by this, merely curious. 

“Your lab coat is covered in green and blue and red,” Remus tells him, using his sword to point at the splotches. “Everyone knows potions are green and blue and purple. And you’re a butt.”

“Well,” Mr. Logan says, and though his eyes curl up like he’s smiling, his expression is still neutral, “I had my assistant deal with all the purple ones, because purple potions smell bad.” (Remus wants to laugh at that, just a little bit.) “And the red isn’t from potions.”

“What’s the red, then?” asks Remus, despite himself. 

“The blood of my enemies,” says Mr. Logan matter-of-factly. 

“Cool,” he breathes, looking at Logan with newfound respect. “Why’d you murder them?”

“I am an evil scientist,” he answers, adjusting his glasses. “It is in the job description.”

“Cool!”

“Also a butt as well, apparently,” Mr. Logan adds thoughtfully. “I wonder if I can add that to my official scientist business cards. ‘Dr. Logan Abbott, Mad Scientist and Butt Extraordinaire.’”

“Bad guys get business cards?” Remus asks, having forgotten altogether about being a distraction. “I’m a pirate. Do I get a business card?”

“Are you a good pirate or a bad pirate?”

“I’m a bad pirate,” he declares, waving his sword in the air. “Roro is a prince-sailor-man, like Prince Eric from Disney, and Janny is an evil kraken we have to team up against! And Dad is a wicked witch who sent the kraken.” 

“A wicked witch, huh?” Mr. Logan says, glancing behind him at where Dad and Patton are. Remus follows his gaze. Dad certainly doesn’t look very wicked, even though he’s wearing a cloak and a hat and scary makeup, but maybe that’s just because he’s smiling, holding hands with Mr. Logan’s kid as Patton babbles on about something. 

It’s hard for his dad to look evil in general, to Remus at least, but especially when he smiles. He’s never found Dad to be very scary, not like he’d been able to spook Roman and Janus every so often, but when he’s smiling, when he’s happy, he just looks like home. 

And Mr. Logan looks so happy, too, looking at his dad, and, well, Roman is the romantic of the house, but Remus has been forced to sit through every one of his brother’s Disney movie watchings, and his favorite movie had always been the Princess Bride (which Dad thinks is too old for Remus and Roman, but lets them watch with him and Janus anyways.) Mr. Logan looks like all the movies, all the descriptions in books, all the stories of love Remus has ever heard. Love-struck, his mind supplies. 

“Yes,” Mr. Logan says, looking back at Remus, that lovey-dovey gaze gone but his eyes still so, so happy, “I think you’d get a business card. What would you put on it?”

He grins, and starts describing his Evil Pirate Captain Remus Caroll cards. Privately, he thinks that, no matter what Janus says, anyone who looks at his dad like that can’t be so bad. 

Plus, Logan’s evil, like him. And he’s okay with being called a butt, which means maybe he’ll teach Remus more, even better insults. 

—

“Aw, beans,” Roman says when he sees Remus happily chatting with the enemy. Janus has stronger language in mind, the kind of words that would get him grounded. 

Sure enough, when Remus returns to them, carrying his candy basket in one hand and his sword in the other, he scuffs his sneaker-clad foot against the ground in a way that Janus knows to mean I’m about to say something you really won’t like. 

“He’s nice,” Remus says defiantly, and Janus scoffs. 

Fine. He has to do everything himself, huh?

If it’s up to him to protect their dad from Logan Abbott, that’s fine. He just has to keep Roman on his side for as long as possible, right?

“So you’re abandoning us?!” he snaps anyways, because despite everything, he’s hurt. He didn’t think Remus, of all people, would turn so quickly. “What about Dad?”

“I think he likes Dad!” Remus protests. “A lot! It’s like all those Disney movies!” 

Roman looks between them, clearly conflicted. Uh-oh, Janus thinks. 

“Hans seemed like he liked Anna a lot!” he answers, hands on his hips. “We’ve got to be Dad’s heroes, right, Roman?”

Roman’s expression solidifies into righteous anger. “We gotta keep Dad safe,” he agrees, reaching out to hold Janus’ hand. Janus, meanwhile, tries to ignore Remus’ hurt expression the best he can.

“Here,” he says, reaching into his bag and digging out a pack of gummy worms. “I know they’re your favorite.” 

Remus’ expression brightens as Janus drops them into his candy basket. “Thanks, Janjan!” he says, beaming.

“Just don’t get in our way,” he says, and turns towards Logan.

“Okay, Roman,” he says. “You know what to do.”

His brother trots forwards, successfully swapping places with Remus, who drops back to go walk with Dad and Patton. Janus comes up on Logan’s other side, pointedly looking at the ground.

“Hello, Roman, Janus,” Logan says. “How is trick-or-treating going?”

“Good!” Roman says, cheery as always, though Janus can see his hands trembling. Janus doesn’t respond. 

“I like your costume,” Logan tells his brother, and sounds almost sincere about it. “You’re a prince, right?”

“A sea-prince!” Roman declares, puffing out his chest. “Thank you, Mr. Logan!” Janus shoots him a glare, and Roman just winks. He blinks, taming his expression slightly. 

Huh. Seems Roman is being much smarter about this than he had thought. 

“Y’know,” Roman says, cheery as ever, “Dad’s told us so much about you, Mr. Logan!”

“Does he?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “What does he tell you, then?” 

“Wellllll,” Roman hums, turning on the puppy-eyes. “I’m not sure you want to know, Mr. Logan.”

“If you don’t want to tell me, that is perfectly fine,” Logan answers, which is both completely against the plan and infuriatingly heartfelt. 

“He says you’re, uh, stupid,” Janus mutters, taking matters into his own hands. 

“Yes!” Roman exclaims. “Very stupid. And, and a big ol’ butt! And a meanie. And insuff-bly rude to your co-workers.”

Janus barely resists to smack a hand to his face — that last bit is stolen word for word from Uncle Remy’s rants to Dad about his boss when he comes over for dinner, and mispronounced at that! — but it seems to have worked, as Logan looks rather shocked.

“Oh, did he?” he asks, seemingly distressed. Yes! “Oh dear. That’s not very kind of him, was it?”

“Nope!” Janus answers, suddenly cheerful. Yes, yes! Now stupid Logan would go away, and Dad would be safe, and there would be no omelets for dinner or anything-

“I’d better go talk to him about it,” Logan says decisively. No, no, NO!

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Roman says, experiencing the same panic, but Logan is already dropping back to walk beside Dad, picking up Patton, who giggles and throws his arms around Logan to hug him. 

“Damn it!” Janus exclaims, stomping in his anger. 

“You cursed!” Roman says in shock, pointing at him. 

“Yes, Roman, I cursed,” he snaps. “That didn’t work at all!” 

Roman looks on the verge of crying, and he instantly regrets it. “Sorry, Ro,” he says, reaching out to take his brother’s hand again. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was my dumb plan.”

“It wasn’t dumb,” Roman says, sniffling. “Mr. Logan’s the dumb one.”

“Yeah,” Janus agrees, and glances back at his dad and Logan. Dad looks all smitten again, and Logan, disgustingly, looks equally sappy. “We’re not gonna get anything done with them like that. Let’s… let’s just trick or treat with Remus for now, okay? We’ve got this.”

“Okay,” Roman agrees, and pulls Janus back to where their brother is happily munching on a Snickers bar. 

They do end up having fun. And with Patton there, for all the dumb, costume-mistaking kid’s faults, adults are too busy cooing over him to care that Janus and Roman and Remus take a few pieces of candy from the bowls. 

Okay, Janus thinks as they return to the house, time for Plan B. 

—

Roman glares at the villainous intruder seated beside his father on the couch, as he and Remus and Janus trade candy on the floor. He’ll thwart this Logan Abbott’s evil plans! He’s a prince, after all!

“I’m gonna start making dinner,” Dad says, standing up. “I know it’s late, sorry. How does grilled cheese sound?”

“That sounds amazing,” the villain says, smiling like Hans at Anna in the beginning of the movie. “Do you want any help?”

“Just watch the kids for me, please?” Dad asks, and Roman nearly gags as he kisses the Hans-ome Villain on the cheek. Hadn’t Dad learned anything from Frozen?!

“Yeah, of course,” agrees Roman’s nefarious nemesis. Roman narrows his eyes, and checks again to make sure the fireplace is off, and that Mr. Logan — no, Dr. Logan, he’s too evil to be a mister, just look at his lab coat! — is sufficiently blocked off from it. He’s not a snowman, and neither are his brothers, but one could never be too careful! Princes always made sure to have all of their weaknesses defended against!

Janus follows their dad into the kitchen, but not before he glances at Roman and mouths Keep him busy, as he points at their vile adversary. It also could have been Reap the city, but Roman is pretty sure that doesn’t make any sense. 

Remus, the traitor, is playing with Patton. “I’m the tickle zombie!” he declares loudly, sticking out his tongue and making groaning noises, wiggling his fingers at Patton, who squeals in excitement and darts away. “Twickle zomvie!” he yells to his father, who nods gravely. 

“You had best run, Patton,” Mr. Logan tells him. “I hear tickle zombies are ruthless creatures.”

“Tickle zombie,” Remus groans in agreement, and Patton screams again, running towards the kitchen. 

There is silence in the living room for a few minutes after that, until Logan finally says “What’s your favorite kind of candy, Roman?” 

“Like I’d tell you that, you mal-volent maley-factor!” he exclaims, drawing his sword and pointing it at him. “You’d probably poison all the Starbursts!” He quickly realizes his mistake, and does his best to look even fiercer.

“Why would I do that? I like them too, I’ll have you know,” Mr. Logan says, though he looks rather surprised. “How old are you, Roman?”

“...Six,” he says grudgingly, when he can’t figure out how this bad-natured boyfriend of Dad’s would use his age against him. 

“You have a very impressive vocabulary for six, Roman,” the execrable evil-doer tells him, raising an eyebrow.

“Janus and Dad and kindergarten taught me to read,” he says proudly. “And we ran out of books for me, so I’ve been reading the dictionary when we can’t go to the library!”

“That is very impressive,” Mr. Logan repeats. “What’s your favorite book?”

“It’s-” he starts, but then remembers Mr. Logan is the enemy. “None of your beeswax!”

Mr. Logan doesn’t seem as hurt by that as Roman would have expected, and silence reigns over the living room for a few minutes (save for when Patton and Remus come sprinting in and out of it). Roman finally lowers his sword, putting it beside him. 

“I can teach you to use that,” the atrocious antagonist says finally, gesturing to the sword. 

“What?” Roman asks, immediately on the defense. “I can use it fine, Padre’s poisonous partner!” 

“I’m sure you can,” Mr. Logan says, adjusting his glasses, “and a very good insult, by the way, but I took fencing for many years. I can at least give you a few tips, hm?”

“...Fine,” Roman agrees, intrigued despite his best efforts.

Besides, how bad can loathsome Mr. Logan be if he likes Starbursts, anyways?

—

Janus knows he has lost Roman when he comes bounding into the room when Dad says “Dinner!” exclaiming “Dad, can I take fencing?” 

“Logan Abbott,” Dad says, far too affectionate, “have you been teaching my son sword-fighting?”

“Maybe just a bit,” Logan says, not-so-subtly returning the broom to its place near the back door. “Is that… Is that alright?”

“Of course it’s alright,” Dad replies, handing him a plate of grilled cheese, complete with tomato soup. “It’s very sweet of you. This is all he’ll be talking about for months, though, I hope you know that.”

“It’s so cool, Dad!” Roman exclaims, proving his point. Remus is already sitting besides Patton, tearing into his grilled cheese, and Janus feels something cold settle into his stomach. 

“Brothers conference, now,” he declares, standing up and marching towards the living room. He’s gratified to see that the twins still follow him, at least, even if they have been swayed to the side of Logan Abbott. 

“I like him, Jan!” Roman says immediately, eyes wide and pleading. “He’s nice! And Dad likes him, and Remus does too!” 

“And Patton’s great too,” Remus adds, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t wanna be mean to them!”

“What about Dad?” Janus exclaims, desperate. “Remember the last time we liked one of Dad’s dates?” 

He’s referring to She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named, who had looked so nice in photos, who Dad had spoken of like an angel, but who had met them with a fixed smile and broken up with Dad only a few weeks later. Remus’ face falls, but Roman’s expression only hardens. 

“Logan’s not like that,” he insists. “We won’t help you anymore, Jan.” 

His brothers leave him alone in the living room, and Janus scowls at the ground. Fine. If they won’t help him, he’ll do it himself. He doesn’t need them anyways!

He ignores the choking feeling in his chest and the burning at the corners of his eyes as he returns to the table. 

Fine. 

—

Patton likes Virgil and his family. 

Remus is funny, and Roman knows all about all the princesses, and Janus, for all his grumpy-wumpies, has the best costume. And Virgil is so nice, and makes the best jokes, too!

Patton is all of four years old, and he, quite honestly, finds himself liking everything and everyone. But he especially likes his Papa’s boyfriend’s family. 

They’re nice. And they make his papa happy, too, and he doesn’t feel scared around them at all. He’s pretty sure Janus could beat up any monsters in his octopus — no, kraken — costume anyways. 

Janus looks sad when he comes back to the table, face all red and angry, and Patton reaches across to pat him on one of his tentacles. “You’re a very good kwaken,” he says.

Janus just stares at him. “...Sure, whatever,” he answers, turning away and taking a huge bite out of his grilled cheese. Patton is impressed, frankly. 

Papa has told him that Virgil being his boyfriend means that he and Virgil are like Nate-from-daycare’s parents, romantic partners. Patton asked if that means if he and Virgil are gonna get married someday, like Nate’s, and his dad’s face turned all red. “Maybe,” he said. 

Patton hopes so. He’d like to have Virgil as his other dad, he thinks. Virgil is nice. And Patton has begged for siblings so many times that getting Janus and Remus and Roman in the bargain is like what his dad says about cool things — bee’s knees. They’re like the bee’s knees!

So, Patton is hopeful. 

He pats Janus’ tentacles once more. Hopefully, his maybe-future-big-brother will feel better soon. 

—

“I just want to stay up for an extra hour, Dad,” Janus says, nearly pleading. “It’s Halloween! Just until Mr. Logan goes home.” 

His dad looks desperately between him and Logan, who is sitting in the living room with Patton in his lap, snoozing against his chest. The twins had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, and Dad is holding Roman in his arms, Remus already tucked in upstairs. 

“It’s alright, Virgil,” Logan says. “It is Halloween, and I’m trapped here anyways.” He gestures to Patton on his lap, and Dad laughs at that. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Thank you so much, L,” Janus’ dad says, obviously relieved. “I’ll be right down, okay?”

“Okay,” Logan nods, returning Dad’s smile with one of his own. 

“You should just go now,” Janus says once his dad is upstairs. “You ruined Halloween. And Dad hates you, and we hate you, so you should just go home!”

“I am aware that you don’t like me, Janus,” Logan tells him softly, far too nice. He’s the kind of wonderful guy that would have Dad making omelets for days afterwards, unbearably sad. “And… I must confess, I do not understand why. Do I truly make you that uncomfortable?” 

“I don’t care about you,” he snaps, sinking back into the couch cushions, refusing to look at Logan, eyes on the credits rolling across the TV screen instead. “But I won’t let you hurt my dad.” 

“Hurt your father?” Logan repeats, eyes wide. “Why on Earth would I do that?”

It is late, and Janus is tired, and he still feels like crying. And so he finds himself spilling it all, from the omelets to She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named to his dad’s calls with Uncle Remy. He’s crying, he finds, partway through, and Logan doesn’t reach out to hug him or anything like that, but he listens. He nods, and he asks questions at all the right times, and passes Janus the tissues from the coffee table whenever he needs them. 

“Janus,” Logan Abbott says when he is done, and he looks like he wants to cry, too, “may I promise you something, now?”

Janus nods, too tired to do anything else, and he gets the feeling that if he had shaken his head, Logan would have respected that, would have remained silent. 

“I swear,” Logan says, fiercely passionate, “I have no intention of hurting your father, or your brothers, or you, in any shape or form. If I should do so, I would be a person who does not deserve you, your father, or your brothers in any shape or form anyways, as family or friends or even acquaintances.” He takes a deep breath, and Janus realizes his eyes are glittering with tears when he lifts his hand to wipe them away. “I did not mean to intrude on your family, and if you fear for your father around me, or dislike me that much, it is not my place to remain here. You will always be Virgil’s priority, as you should be, and I would never keep myself in his life if I made his son that unhappy.” 

“Okay,” Janus says, voice small. 

There is silence, after that, and much sniffling, and Janus thinks. 

He thinks about his brothers, who have taken to the Abbotts so quickly. He thinks about Patton who, in the end, isn’t such a bad kid. He thinks about his dad, who seems so happy around Logan, who had asked them to keep an open mind that afternoon, who would be so sad if he had to break up with Logan, even for Janus’ sake, though he’d never say it.

He thinks about Logan, who seems so sincere, and who isn’t really anything like She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named, or any of the others who had made his dad cry, who Janus thinks he could like one day, who could maybe be his dad too. 

“I guess you can stay,” Janus says, watching the TV carefully, and in the reflection, he can just barely see Logan relax. “For now.”

“Thank you, Janus,” he says. 

“If you hurt my dad, though, I’ll kill you myself,” Janus tells him, and means it. 

“I’d deserve it,” Logan answers simply, and for that, more than anything else, Janus starts to like Logan. He doesn’t laugh at the threat, or threaten him back, or even ignore it. 

He takes it seriously. He considers it. And he finds it justified. 

Yes, Janus thinks. With enough time, and maybe a little candy-related bribery (it is Halloween, after all) he could like Logan Abbott. 

—

“I had a lovely time tonight,” Logan says. Patton is in the car, strapped into his carseat with the driver’s door open just in case, still sleeping away, and Virgil has long since put Janus to bed, too. 

It is late. The moon is full overhead, a watchful eye on a quiet world, and it shines down on Logan and Virgil, who linger still in the doorway. 

“I’m glad,” Virgil smiles, though the expression falters quickly. He reaches up to Logan’s cheek, finger brushing at a stray tear track. “Have you been crying?”

“Janus and I had a bit of a heart-to-heart,” he explains, intertwining his own fingers with those of Virgil’s free hand. 

“The boys seemed to like you,” Virgil says, and though he looks no less concerned, he smiles anyways. 

“I liked them too,” Logan laughs, a shy, soft thing. “And Patton adores you, of course. I knew he would.” 

“I’d say I’m amazed they warmed up to you so quickly, but I’m not,” his boyfriend tells him, and grins, truly grins, mischievous and light and so full of love that it makes Logan feel dizzy. “You’re so wonderful, I’m surprised it took even that long.” 

“Flirt,” Logan accuses, but he steps closer anyways. The night is chilly, but he hardly notices next to Virgil Carroll, who seems to exist to provide warmth and light to the universe. “They were very protective of you.”

“Perhaps they have reason to be,” Virgil says thoughtfully, smile widening. “What with you around, standing on my doorstep in the dead of night, not kissing your boyfriend goodbye. That ought to be a crime, I think. Look at me, associating with criminals. You’ve turned me bad already!” 

Logan rolls his eyes but leans down to kiss Virgil anyways, a chaste, sweet thing that still manages to take his breath away. “You are incorrigible.” 

“You love me and you know it,” Virgil tells him. 

“I do,” Logan agrees. “Very much.”

They hug goodbye, and steal one or three or eight more goodbye kisses, and before he knows it Logan is driving away, off into the quiet of the moonlight. 

There is something magical about Halloween, he has always thought. A magic of change, and of tricks, and of trust, too. 

Virgil’s sons like me. A change. 

They attempted to drive me away, but Virgil had warned me ahead of time that might be the case, so I did, admittedly, have the upper hand. A trick. 

Janus, as of now, will let me stay. A trust, the trust of a boy who will do anything to protect his father. 

Above all else, Logan decides, he will not betray that. 

—

There are other Halloweens, of course, and there are other holidays, too. There are presents, and laughter, and the occasional argument, but one that is always resolved by the next day, and Janus receives that candy bribe, as well.

There are still omelet nights. There might always be. But now, instead of calling Uncle Remy, Virgil starts to call Logan, on these nights, seeking comfort when work goes badly or one of his sons is hurt or in the midst of just a truly bad day. And eventually, there will be no need for calls at all, for Logan is there to make toast and offer cuddles and tuck the boys in bed on those rough days, and, after he is supposed to be asleep, Janus will see his dad and a man who is almost, maybe, very close to being his father too, curled up together, offering support and comfort and love. 

Logan has his bad days, too. And so do Janus, and Roman, and Remus, and Patton. But none of them have to face them alone. 

One day, many Halloweens later, Janus will call Logan ‘Papa’ for the first time, sleepily, halfway through Hocus Pocus, and they will both cry, just a little bit. 

[inkedstarlight]

Bittersweet: Chapter Two

Summary: Nesta returns home when she hears the news that her father is in the hospital. She has one final conversation with him. Note: Read it here on AO3! Warnings: angst, mention of child abuse, minor character death Bittersweet Masterlist

August

The funeral was small. Just three sisters and a few old, distant relatives.

It was a bleak day, the humidity itself enough to make you squirm where you stood. Dark clouds roiled in the sky, but the rain never came. Not when Feyre gave a eulogy. Not when they buried him in the ground. Not when Elain collapsed on the fertile grass. She watered the earth more than the sky did that day.

Nesta’s father died two weeks ago. It was sudden in the way that everyone knew he didn’t have much time left, but no one thought it would really happen. Elain didn’t want him to die because she loved him. Feyre didn’t want it to happen because she didn’t want to face her conflicted feelings. And Nesta didn’t want it to happen because she still had so much to say to him, none of which was pleasant.

She had gotten a call from Elain just two days before he passed. He was getting out of bed when he collapsed to the floor, immediately losing consciousness. Elain sounded frantic amidst the sirens of the ambulance, begging her sister to come to Maine. Despite her reservations, Nesta promised that she would be there as soon as she could. She started her car the minute they hung up. Not for her father, but for Elain. Nesta would never forgive herself if she let Elain deal with this alone. She’d already shouldered so much responsibility in her twenty-two years, and this was a burden she shouldn’t carry alone.

The drive was only four hours, but it felt like a lifetime. The highway was curiously vacant, only a handful of cars passing by. The only audible sound was the engine’s hum. Other than that, the car was eerily silent while Nesta drove, her knuckles white from clutching the steering wheel so tightly. Her palms were damp with the dreadful feeling of anticipation. Sunglasses shielded her eyes, consequently hiding unshed tears and blocking the blindingly bright sun. She usually played music during drives, but today was different. Today was unknown.

Nesta hated summer. Summer had high expectations. It expected her to be happy. It expected her to wake up with the sun. It expected her to spend her time outside when all she wanted to do was sleep until noon. While most people basked in the warmth of summer, Nesta found solace in the frigid winter.

Much to her dismay, the only direct route to the hospital was through Nesta’s old neighborhood. The longer route, which steered clear of Ashgrove Drive, added another half hour. She refused to take the long way and risk not being there with Elain. It was just a house and nothing more. That’s what she told herself at least.

When the street sign came into view, she pressed her foot harder on the gas pedal. The two words in and of themselves spiked Nesta’s heart rate.

Ashgrove Drive.

Fear clawed its way up her throat.

It’s just a neighborhood. Stop panicking.

With a stoic face, her eyes didn’t waver from the road in front of her. Innate curiosity told her to let her gaze wander from the street. Just a peek. But she held her ground. Nesta didn’t spare a glance at the playground she used to spend her afternoons at. Or the middle school she so dreadfully loathed. Or the people who knew everyone’s name and their business.

And certainly not her childhood home.

When she reached the stop sign at the four-way intersection, she checked each way for other cars. Unfortunately, her old house happened to sit on the left corner directly behind one of the stop signs.

Just one glance and Nesta was transported back in time.

“Why the hell did your teacher just email me to inform me that you weren’t in her class today?”

“I’m sorry, Mommy. I just really miss Nala. I couldn’t go to school.”

“That cat was put down a week ago and you’re still whining about it? Get over yourself, Nesta. You’re being a baby.”

"But -"

“If you speak another word, I will make sure you regret it. No one cares about your hurt feelings, Nesta. I didn’t raise you to be a weak bitch.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know how you turned out to be such a waste of space. I gave up everything for you, and I got nothing in return.”

Waste of space.

Waste of space.

Waste of space.

A horn blared, shaking Nesta from the deeply buried memory. She was still sitting that the intersection, staring at the blue shutters and fading paint of the house. Peeling her eyes away from that haunting house, Nesta accelerated out of that damned neighborhood.

When she finally arrived at the hospital, Nesta sat in her car for a few minutes before going in. Intrusive thoughts were flying through her head so fast that she could barely decipher them.

Will Elain be happy to see me?

Will everyone resent me for leaving?

What am I going to say to Feyre?

What if he dies and I feel happy? What kind of person does that make me?

The car got smaller and smaller as her thoughts grew bigger and bigger. Sweat dripped from her forehead, the hot air nearly suffocating her. A panic attack was slowly bubbling to the surface.

Before it could hit her, Nesta let out a curse, unbuckling the seat belt to get out of the car. She pulled herself free as she gasped for fresh air, leaning her body against the car so her knees didn’t give out.

Pull yourself together.

After a couple deep breaths, the anxiety ebbed away. She smoothed a hand over her frizzy hair and stood up straight with determination. Shutting the car door and locking it with a beep, Nesta entered the hospital.

After navigating through the maze of hallways for a good twenty minutes, Nesta finally found her sister. She was crouched over on a chair, her shoulders drooped low. The cheap chair sat across from a hospital room, presumably their father’s. Elain lifted her head from her hands when she heard Nesta approach. It pained Nesta to see the tears in her sister’s eyes. Her face was puffy, her clothes rumpled. Without hesitation, Elain threw herself into Nesta’s arms, which were already spread open. The impact of Elain’s body against Nesta’s was forceful, but it was incomparable to the ache in her chest. Nesta felt Elain’s tears drip on her shoulder, her shirt soaking up the grief. Wrapped in each other’s arms, Nesta closed her eyes with content. Something in her felt whole again, like she found a missing puzzle piece. Gods, how she missed Elain. She missed the strawberry scent of her hair, the way Elain’s head was perpetually tilted to the side, the tiny freckles that spattered her nose.

“I missed you so much,” Elain cried, echoing Nesta’s own thoughts. Her heart broke just a little more.

"Ditto, kid.” Nesta stepped back to inspect her younger sister. “Where’s Feyre?”

Please don’t be here.

“She couldn’t get a flight on such short notice. She was finally able to book one that leaves late tonight, so she should arrive early tomorrow morning.” A worried look crossed Elain’s face.

Nesta exhaled a big breath. She didn’t have the mental energy to face Feyre. Not today.

“How are you doing?” Nesta asked softly, tucking a strand of Elain’s hair behind her ear. When they were young, Elain would beg Nesta to do her hair nearly every day. And while Nesta brushed her silky hair, Elain would spend the entire time rambling about anything and everything.

They hadn’t done that in years now.

“As good as I can be, I guess,” Elain answered with a shaky smile. It didn’t reach her eyes . “Better now that you’re here. I’m so happy to see your face, Nesta.”

Nesta tugged Elain’s fragile body close to press a small kiss to her forehead.

“What’s the latest?” Nesta asked, nodding her head toward the door of their father’s hospital room.

Elain’s face crumpled with sorrow, tears welling up in her eyes. “The doctors said they couldn’t do much. He’s been sick for years. They said it’s a miracle he even survived this long.”

Nesta nodded before glancing behind Elain at the door once again. Elain watched her with the gentlest eyes.

“He said he wanted to speak to you.”

Nesta’s head snapped back. She didn’t think twice. “No.”

“Please talk to him,” Elain begged. Gods, she looked so small. “If not for him, then for me.”

“Elain…” Nesta warned. Don’t make me do this.

“I don’t know exactly what happened between you, but what I do know is that it’s torn our family apart. You need to see him,” Elain whispered. “Please.”

It’s torn our family apart.

Nesta’s stomach twisted with guilt. Elain was looking up at her with something akin to hope, like Nesta had the power to fix their fucked up family. She had let down Elain one too many times already. It wouldn’t happen again. She couldn’t say no.

Without uttering a word, Nesta walked past Elain and opened the door.

She was immediately blinded by the fluorescent lights that hung from the tiled ceiling. It made death look even paler. As her eyes adjusted to the brightness, a strong stench hit her nose: the scent of rubber gloves and unending grief. The rhythmic beep of the monitor was a reminder of an imminent death. A spider web of tubes and wires surrounded her father’s hospital bed. She couldn’t tell where they went or what they were doing. It looked as though he was wrapped in a cocoon. And when Nesta’s eyes landed on her father, he was already looking at her.

"Nesta… you look stunning,” her father croaked out. Despite the artificial light, his hazel eyes glimmered. His wrinkles deepened when he gave her a sad smile, his face marred with years of life. A face that, after seven years, was now wrinkled and drab. His gray hair had thinned out with time.

Nesta shifted uncomfortably.

“I know you’re unhappy with me, Ness,” he confessed quietly.

Ness. She hadn’t heard that nickname in years, hadn’t thought about it. It was her dad’s name for her when she was a young girl. He would call her the “Loch Ness monster” when they played hide and seek; no one could ever find her.

“You deserve an explanation…” he struggled to continue. She noticed his hands trembling. “I should have told you years ago.”

Nesta didn’t break her silence, but she pulled a chair to the side of his bed. She waited for him to continue. She would listen to his bullshit excuses. She would put up with his stories of cowardice. But the minute he finished telling his fabricated version of the story, she was going to let out everything that had been stirring inside her for years. She wasn’t going to hold back, not even when he was on his death bed. Nesta wouldn’t pity him. He had felt sorry for himself his whole gods-damned life. He didn’t deserve another ounce of sympathy.

Her father expelled a shaky breath. Nesta couldn’t tell if it was because he was nervous or because he was dying. She didn’t particularly care either way.

He began from the very beginning. His relationship with her mother. The year leading up to Nesta’s birth. The early years of her life that she had no recollection of. The reasons behind his behavior, behind her mother’s behavior. The incident that changed everything. The year her mother left. All that happened after that fateful day. Everything.

She didn’t know how long he talked for. Minutes, maybe hours. Any concept of time was lost when he uttered that very first sentence. Now, Nesta was holding onto the arms of the chair so as to not fall off and collapse.

When her father managed to finish his story, his voice was so hoarse that he was barely audible. And Nesta… Nesta was unable to fight off the tears. She choked out a sob, the strangled noise ringing in her ears. Tears for her father, for all that she had put him through over a grudge. Tears for the countless years wasted resenting him. Her throat burned with years of guilt, rendering her speechless. For once in her life, she didn’t stop the tears that ran down her cheeks. There was still so much to be said but Nesta didn’t have the strength to utter a single word, so she reached for her dad’s hand and squeezed gently. It was cold, too cold. But he squeezed back, his fragile fingers holding onto Nesta’s with the love of a father. She heard him murmur soothing words as her entire world came crashing down.

The words that had played on repeat in her head for years rang louder than ever.

You’re a waste of space. All you’re good for is hurting people. You deserve nothing.

“Your sisters…” her dad wheezed, “spend time with them, Ness. You need them as much as they need you.”

Nesta only nodded, her body racked by violent sobs. Her head was heavy. It was so, so heavy. She rested her forehead on their joined hands when his heart monitor started to race. Nesta’s eyes snapped to her father’s, which were already closed.

“No,” Nesta whispered in shock. She shook her dad’s arm, desperately trying to wake him up. The monitor got faster and faster. She needed to tell him, she can’t keep it in. “Daddy! Wake up… no.”

Her breath caught in her throat when the heart monitor flatlined. Her lips parted as she cried out, but nothing left her mouth. Nesta clutched his hand, his body temperature getting colder and colder by the minute.

“No!” She was screaming now, and she relished the burning of her throat. The pain. Nesta heard nothing but a ringing in her ears. She couldn’t see anything except her dad. Her dead father.

He couldn’t hear her. She knew it was too late, but that didn’t stop the words from leaving her lips.

“I’m so sorry, Dad.”

She kept repeating herself for what felt like hours until her voice was raw and her eyes were burning. The words continued to leave her lips even when the doctors rushed in. Her apologies spilled out as a nurse pulled her away from the bed. She was still whispering “I’m sorry” when Elain rocked her back and forth in the waiting room. Nesta didn’t remember stopping, not even when she drifted to sleep, and not when she woke up the next day drenched in her own tears.

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 004

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hello all! Pushing out a baby chapter early so I can focus on my other fic! Thank you so much for the support on this fic. Billy goes to dinner and Tries It. That's the chapter. :D  Tag list open!!!

Chapter 4: No Day But Today

   “Claudia, do you have the keys?” Mona crossed the salon floor.

   “I do, we’re fine here, go on. Dusty is spending the night at the Wheeler’s place. Having some castle and dragons party.” She'd gushed.

   “Feel free to close up early if we’re dead the last hour. Thanks, sugar.” Mona patted her back as she followed Evie out the door.

   “Can I drive?”

   “I was hoping you’d ask.” Mona smiled.

   Evie was saving for a car. And college. And her future. 

   And it was a lot.

   Truthfully, she didn’t care for school. It was in the way. Wished her lyrics could carry her straight to the red carpet before all those flashing paparazzi.

   Wanting to unwind, Evie hid in her room when she got home. Shut the curtains and prodded at herself before the vanity. Sorted dangly earrings in a mesh metal display. Huffing to lean over when Bourbon swept into her legs. His little body shivered and she plucked him up.

   “Okay, BB, you’re my best guy. You can’t let me down.” She scratched under his chin, gave him a little boop on the nose. “You take one look at that walking Def Leppard poster and you hiss and run. Got it?”

   A purr.

   “Good boy. You’re my only hope here. We can’t lose. Not to Billy Hargrove.” Arms let him down. She'd feel this sentiment often about Billy. A sigh. Evie applied a fresh lip color and paused. “Ugh.” She pushed up and didn’t change. Did her school work to get it out of the way and wandered out, turning the TV on to some game show. The savory smell of dinner wafted. “Need help here, Mom?” One tug and the ceiling fan spun, cycling cooler air.

   “No, I have it. You can set the table for me.” Mona drained some noodles.

   “Got it.” Plates and cutlery clicked around. Evie slid everything into place, perked up when the doorbell rang. Mona turned and smiled as her daughter adjusted fabric and fixed curls into place all the way to the door.

   Evie half expected Billy to not even show. But, there he was. Sly smile and all. Billow of date night cologne. A vision in moonlight.

   “Hey.” Evie said slowly. The surprise evident.

   “Hey." He mirrored it.

   "You're here." An exhale out. He blinked, found himself again.

   "I was gonna steal flowers from the old lady’s garden across the way, but there’s a huge opossum in her trash guarding it.” He tilted his head, earring catching the porch light and she cracked a grin.

   "Big Ben? Yeah, he's the neighborhood menace. Chief Hopper's nemesis because they get so many calls about it. You'd be a hero if you took him on." Evie persuaded lighter. His face fell.

   "I'm not trying to die in Hawkins, Indiana. That thing was bigger than anyone on our football team."

   “Color me impressed. King Billy didn’t want to do battle for the first time?” She actually teased him. Her nose crinkled when she smiled. Cute. “Shock and awe.”

   Billy felt this tug pulse up his ribcage. Pulled a genuine chuckle from his lips. He had to look away to give it. Glowy in starlight.

   “Sometimes I surprise people. I know my weight class and the pests here look like they were grown and mutated in some lab.” He shrugged into the door frame with one fist lifted, clicking his lighter shut. Hooded eyes all over. Evie went still as he leaned forward to her face with his tone lowering. “Am I allowed inside? Pretty please?”

   “With cherries on top?" Bright, wet lips parted. His lashes fluttered, a baritone sinking. Bringing her with him.

   "With anything your heart desires on top." Smooth.

   "Huh. I guess. For now.” Evie stepped out of the way. “We go to school with plenty of those lab grown pests by the way.”

   “No kidding.” Billy shrugged his jacket off and she awkwardly reached to take it. Hung it up behind her.

   Evie turned to see him staring again and swallowed a hard lump down. Thought maybe he saw all the begonias blooming behind her eyes and up her throat.

   “Billy.” Mona came out of the kitchen, arms out. “So glad you’re here.”

   “You saved me from a sad date with a TV dinner.” Billy winked, charming Ms. Fenny to bits. She giggled and shook her hair out.

   “Dinner’s got about ten minutes. Why don’t you show him around, baby?” Mona hurried back off, leaving them alone again.

   “Tour? Great idea." He peered behind Evie. A mission at hand. "Where’s the cat?”

   “Hiding from you, clearly.” Evie beamed, gesturing. “Welcome to the living room. Mom's showroom is a better word.”

   “Your mom like tchotchkes or what?” He came to the full mantle. Scanning.

   “How’d you guess?” Evie reluctantly trailed to his side.

   It was strange to let this boy wander around and see little bits of her life. Guess things about her as he went along, trailing deft fingers about the fireplace. She wondered what was blooming within the pit of his stomach, if anything.

   Mona Fenny's house overwhelmed.

   Photographs, plants, and crafts. Little porcelain figurines. Too many handmade candles. Crochet projects. A full dollhouse on a table in the corner.

   “My grandma passed a lot of craft skills down. She owned this amazingly strange trinket and voodoo shop in New Orleans that my aunts run now after Nana died."

   "Your mom didn't stay for a piece of that?" Billy let his eyes trail over every little thing.

   "Ah, I don't know. She was the baby and married pretty young. Seemed like she wanted something new," Evie peered behind her and whispered. "Never really got along with Nana like her older sisters did."

   Billy hummed a little. Decided not to pry with Mona in the next room. Evie brought him to the corner and flicked a lamp on.

   "Mom’s dollhouse is her pride and joy. Lights up and everything.”

   “Tell me why your mother has a framed photograph of Dolly Parton next to a picture of you two on the fireplace. And the same photo shrunk down in the dollhouse?”

   “Science may tell us the truth one day when the world is ready. And I fear for that day.” She replied in all seriousness and Billy snorted. Laughing.

   A truly enchanting sound Evie decided she liked.

   “And I have to say,” he plucked a photo off a bookshelf with a broad grin, “this one is my favorite.”

   One of Evie on Halloween. Had to be about six. Dressed in the campiest pink daisy costume with a huge toothy smile.

   “Gah,” she cringed and swiped it from his hand, “this house is a museum of embarrassment.”

   “You’re into the museum shit, guess this is like our first-” Billy stopped himself from producing the damning word when Evie turned. Blushing. Oof. He scratched the back of his neck. “So, uh, you got a bedroom in here or do you sleep in the dollhouse?”

   “You won’t find the cat that easily.” She caught him peering around again and led him past the kitchen. “C’mon, not much to the rest of the house. Garage. Spare room.” That used to be her dad’s office space. “Mom’s room. Attic up there and on this end. My cat's room that he lets me stay in too.”

   The door was open so Billy prodded it to peek inside. Evie exhaled and flicked the light on.

   It didn’t feel like a teenage girl’s bedroom. Not covered in decorations and pictures like the rest of the house. No posters cut from magazines covered in pink lipstick kisses.

   A vanity full of disorganized makeup. Desk. Overfilled bookcase of novels and tapes. Crafts and trinkets she collected in labeled tin boxes. Dresser covered in jewelry. Music player. Bed. Closet. Couple of pictures taped by the vanity and headboard. Mostly Evie and Heather laughing and bright. Her beloved acoustic guitar propped in the corner. 

   It felt like it was decorated by one trying to take up as little space as possible. Everything was compacted. Billy eyed the wall by her bed. Realized most of the papers were notes with random lyrics and words patched together.

   “Yeah, I tend to jot every little thought down even when I’m half asleep and hope it makes a song eventually.” She peered aside. It felt too intimate, letting Billy shift about the space.

   "Hey, everybody has a method." Two fingers traced over a note taped up to straighten it. She caught the ring gleaming on his middle finger. “My-”

   “Ah, don’t read them aloud, I may combust.” 

   “Oh?” Billy slunk toward her, licked his lips. A hungry way about it. Mouth watering fangs full of sweet venom. Wonder how they'd feel sinking into her throat. “Because I make you nervous, Angel?”

   “No, it’s just...just…weird.” Evie pressed up into her desk. Billy closed the distance. Got within inches of her. “It’s weird.”

   Repetition didn’t ease the sear of those ocean eyes drowning her too sweetly. She felt her chest fill and flutter all the way down. Flowers unfurled to be plucked and caressed. Billy pushed into the space until she was seated there on the desk. Scrambling further. Unable to climb the wall.

   “You do seem nervous though, Evie.” His tone hushed. Fingers brushed her thighs and palms came to rest there. The bunched fabric of her dress barely separating them. She inhaled his cologne. Smelled peppermint from his breath. Chest heaving.

   Billy knew this wasn’t part of the quest. If that’s what this was, maybe that was a nicer way to put it. Maybe rationalizing it a thousand times would help him get some sleep at night. Just show her a good night, cash in, and go home.

   It still sounded shitty. Wasn't doing Evie any favors. This girl painted too many iridescent colors. They could bleed and Billy wouldn't step away if it pooled too close.

   He liked to watch the blush spread across her freckled cheeks. Rose petals falling into a cool pond. Liked the way her nose scrunched when she smiled and when she was cross with him. 

   Billy didn't want her because she was a conquest. A challenge. Sure, she challenged him, that was part of it. And she also made him smile like he was looking at the rocking ocean waves again. Sand and wind kissing his warm skin. There was a mystery in those molten eyes he wanted to taste for himself. Maybe it was possible to just enjoy a person without strings.

   To let colors bleed and swirl. To just watch it happen without fear or judgement. To not step away from it either. Just sink right in and create those echoing ripples.

   It was too sweet and peculiar, how soft Evangeline Fenny was against the hard edges of his steel frame. So sharp, it warded everyone off.

   But, not Evie, she fit perfectly against him. Fire with fire. It gave them so much in this world that had forgotten them both. Freckles to count. Eyelashes to wish upon. Flesh curves and razor angles to explore.

   Hell, he even enjoyed how shaken she got as he neared and how still she went when his fingers trailed up her legs. 

   Evie watched his muscled chest rise, the saint pendant caught the light. Looked up at his eyes and then his mouth because it couldn’t be helped. Billy Hargrove filled Evie's space and lungs with sugary smoke. He was too many colors in one soul. So, he pushed further because those painted lips were big and full and right fucking there.

   One curious taste, that couldn't hurt.

   Brought his hand up toward her chin and leaned forth when…

   “Dinner!” 

   Evie practically shoved Billy back. Scrambled up so the desk gave a rut. Bright red as he stumbled.

   “Sorry.” She shuddered, passing him. Smelling of amber perfume. “Coming, mom.” Billy stared at the back of her hair. Blinked a couple times to pull himself together. To rationalize some.

   Curiosity. A deadly thing and so sweet too.

   It felt like he was dreaming and woke up sitting at the dinner table. Evie clicked a Coke in front of him, flashed a knowing expression that made him smirk before she sat down.

   “Now, I left a bowl in the kitchen to cool. We always bring extra to Miss Abigail, she’s three doors down.” Mona was setting plates about.

   “It looks amazing, Ms. Fenny.” Billy even shifted a dish to help make room for another.

   “Please, Billy, just Mona. Ms. Fenny was my mother and she was a harder woman.” She set a glass of water down and smoothed her dress out, sitting. Billy went for his fork and his hand was snatched. Evie shot him a look as Mona reached out. “I always say grace. Don’t feel pressured to join, sweetheart.” 

   Billy peered at Evie’s warm hand in his and accepted her mother’s. Bowed his head a little so Mona could say her prayer. 

   “Bless us, oh Lord. For this and all we are about to receive, make us truly grateful. And thank you for bringing Billy to our humble table, may he truly feel welcomed in our home. Please guide and protect him. Through Christ, we pray. Amen.”

   “Amen.” Evie offered softer. Lips lifting when Billy peered at their hands again leaving each other. Clearly not expecting such words from a neighbor.

   “You’ll forgive me, Billy, some people say they leave their hearts open. I just let mine fill the room.” Mona settled a napkin in her lap. “May I ask, if your family is religious at all?”

   “Dad’s Lutheran.” Which meant Susan was by default now whatever she believed before. “We don’t go to church or anything.”

   As if Neil Hargrove could drag his son under a steeple without one of them spontaneously combusting.

   “Well, that’s perfectly fine.” Mona cut each of her meatballs into smaller pieces which Evie mirrored. “Evie doesn’t attend with me when I go. Although, the choir sure misses her voice.”

   “Mom...” A teenage whine, near silent as she prodded at noodles.

   “She get all the solos?” Billy encouraged the pink spreading Evie’s cheeks.

   “Oh, every single one. She’s even been asked to come sing the national anthem at minor league baseball games.” Mona prattled and Evie’s head fell back.

   “Mom!” Another drawn out groan. Evie sunk down lower.

   “Oh, Evangeline, let your mother brag about you.” Mona ignored her.

   "Yeah, Evangeline." He chimed in, earning a harder glare.

   “Now, Billy, you’ve been in Hawkins just over two months?” Mona continued. Blue eyes lifted from the plate before he gave a nod. “How are you liking it? I’m sure it’s such a huge change from California. You must miss the beach.”

   “Getting used to the cold.” Billy speared a meatball and didn’t sound convincing.

   “I’ll bet you’ve never seen snow before, your poor sinuses aren’t going to know what to do. Anyone in your family takes ill, just give us a ring.” Such a mom. “It took me a few years to get used to the cold here too. We moved when Evie was just a baby straight up from N’aw Lins.” 

   Billy bit his tongue.

   “What type of music do you write?” Billy asked and there was a beat when Evie realized he was looking at her. Addressing her pointedly. Maybe to make conversation and suck up to her talkative mother. Evie’s back grew taut, lips opening.

   “Evie’s gonna be a folk singer.” Mona had cut in. “Voice of an angel, she’ll make it big. She’s been in competitions, just one look from any talent scout and she’s sold.” Evie sank down again to go back to her food. Billy watched her roll a meatball around her plate like it was the most interesting thing in the room. 

   Mona Fenny struck Billy as a woman who always meant well. Frilly like a lace doily. So well, she steamrolled over you because she knew best. Evie barely got two syllables out before her mother was flicking her hair and boasting. A doll that constantly had the string in its voice box yanked.

   Billy learned a great deal about her.

   That Mona had been arrested twice in her life for marching and protesting. Civil and women’s rights. She joked that she hadn't been arrested for gay rights yet, but looked forward to the inevitable. She was a pageant queen too. Stopped when she found out she was pregnant and couldn’t compete after that. No bitterness there of course. She had a daughter to mold and complete the legacy now.

   Mona insisted on taking the plates away. Grabbing her own, Billy’s, and a side dish. 

   Evie was still rolling that meatball around until Billy plucked up a fork, stabbed it, and swallowed in one bite. She perked with flushed cheeks. Glared again.

   Billy wanted attention.

   “Your mom is friendly.” Statement of the fucking millennium.

   “Just wait til she busts out her old pageant scrapbooks. You'll never see home again.” Evie quickly flashed a smile and picked up her own plate to follow her mother off. Billy stood too, peered around. That cat had to be close. “Give it up.” Arms crossed when she leaned into the doorway working a melting ice cube around her mouth. Swallowed it whole instead of crunching. Water ran in the kitchen behind her.

   “We agreed on an hour of television.” Billy matched her stance, saw her hip cock.

   “Half hour.”

   “Hour.” Billy went in to sit on the couch like he owned it. Legs spread. “Come on in, the water’s fine, Evangeline.” Evie plucked up the remote, sat as far away from him as she could. Turned the TV on to something campy just to make him suffer.

   “Fucking Love Boat. Really? Susan watches this crap.”

   “You said the full hour.” Evie flashed a smug grin. “I think The Golden Girls is on too.”

   “Love Boat is fine.” Billy lifted his hand. Swiped the remote from her to set it on the other side of him. They both sunk in there. Eyes on the screen. Mona left them alone to bring the plate to their neighbor, stayed for conversation.

   Billy fidgeted. Stretching to scoot closer so he could nudge his knee into Evie's. Her face remained at total peace. She pushed back at his leg which drew slow smiles upon them both.

   “What kind of music do you really like, or does your mother always do all the talking?”

   “Doesn’t matter.” Evie felt him peer back over and held herself. A beat.

   “Yeah, your dreams. They don't matter." Came sarcasm. "A girl who wants her name in lights. Don't spend too much time feeling for the switch in darkness, Angel."

   "Why do you want to know?"

   "Just asking. You really want to sit in silence to this cheesefest? Young actresses paired with old ass grandpas playing love sick.” Billy put his arm up over the couch. Missed Evie twitch. Got his hand smacked for tugging her curl like a giddy little boy. 

   “I don’t know,” Evie faced him with a shrug, “somewhere in the rock and pop area. Maybe with a touch of soul. Not the hair metal I’m sure you’re into."

   How beautiful she looked when she hoped.

   "And my name in lights won't ever be enough, I need people to chant it too.”

   Lips curled at Evie.

   “Better than folk music.” Billy decided. Pride welled because she smiled too. Genuinely. Evie fiddled with her necklace. Delicate little music note caught the technicolor glow. Brown eyes turned to see him, she tried to bite the smile down. Failed.

   “So, what’s the deal with this party thing? A dance?”

   “One of many in the city. Bunch of high schools will probably run drunk through the streets with everyone else. No one will get carded because no one cares on New Years. Dancing and whatever. Watch the ball drop, it’s just the feral thing to do that night.”

   “And you could score with any girl, but you’re asking me. It won’t be like a date or anything.” Evie dropped the charm in her fingers to see Billy’s eyes linger.

   “You mentioned that. I know how to get out and have a good time without fucking. I have all sorts of tricks.” He noted the word didn’t make her wince. “Not looking to break your seal.”

   “You’re gross.” Again, no argument on the details of it.

   “You’re too tightly wound.” He paused, whispering. “Maybe not, but you hide it.”

   "Nothing to hide, I'm an open book."

   "A never ending record," Billy pushed into her so their legs pressed flush, "not nervous around me though."

   "Nope." Her lips popped, fingers curling into the hem of her dress when his arm snaked behind the couch. "Not nervous."

   "Not running either." That realization seemed to hit them both.

   "Why would I? I can handle you just fine." She hissed at that because it came out sexual. Billy licked his lips and snickered, shifting to face her head on.

   "Oh, I like the sound of that." He'd murmured, inches from her face. Evie found herself wondering how he managed to weasel his way in this close. Wondered why she was drinking him back in. "Picture this. You and this perfume enjoying a couple free drinks and some fireworks in the city. No strings attached. Not a date. Just those exploding lights and that chilly wind cooling your cheeks down, because you'll be blushing and you won't know it."

   "Uh huh. I guess I can see it." Evie sized him up and crossed her legs to lean back into him. "You and the roar of a Camaro commanding the city to its knees. Glam and hairspray working their magic."

   "I love an audience, Angel." Billy shook his head and froze because her palm came to his knee. Bold move. "But, I don't mind the front seat to see you blush too."

   "What about you?" She whispered with a hum. "What makes King Billy blush? Does all the noise you like to make hide it?" A spark flitted up her eyes. Made his chest heave. "Is that your secret?"

   "Come to the party, I'll tell you all my secrets." Fingers grazed up her arm when soft digits gave a rhythmic tap against his thigh. Billy went for it. "Do this dance with me."

   "You don't play as hard to get as you let on."

   "Not when I want something bad. Better to just play harder." Lips parted to hit that word. Her brows lifted at such an admittance. "You're sizzling up a fuse, aren't you, Evie?" She shook her head with a lazy smile. Eyes finding his again after. Near sultry.

   "You have to light a fuse first, Billy, for it to sizzle." Her hand crept along denim. Felt him go rigid and part his thighs just a little bit wider before she sat back. "And the fire's out anyway. I'll make good on the deal. If you win."

   "I hope you have a dress picked." Billy scoffed, breathless and still intent on her while she looked ahead at the screen.

   “Time is ticking. As if you taking me out will do me any good." Evie rolled her eyes and reclined back into his side. Quite comfortably like she wasn't thinking about it. "Give me cool points so Tommy and Carol leave me alone.”

   “They’re assholes to everyone. It’s not you.” Billy replied dismissively. Curled his finger into her locks behind the sofa.

   “You don’t notice who they target because you’re too busy chasing skirts and fighting others yourself. Also haven't seen the writing about me on the bathroom walls. School hierarchy rules. Open those pretty ocean eyes and see the world for what it is. You're untouched because of your front. Everyone wants to be Billy Hargrove or screw him.”

   Evie looked at him there, blinking.

   "What side of the line are you on?" He bit his lip. "I can guess."

   She plucked his hand from her shoulder and placed it back into his lap. Patted it for good measure.

   “So, you really think my eyes are pretty?” Billy laughed when a square pillow nailed him in the face. "You said it before too! When we were drunk and you still think it now that we're sober. Telling."

   Tension shattered. Evie glittered right back at him, teeth flashing. Still chuckling, he tilted his head back to create the magical sound. Quieted.

   “Fine. I’ll pay attention if it helps you sleep at night.”

   Evie blew air out her lips, let a curl fly up and bounce down. They watched the screen again. Shared a space. Maybe it shouldn't have felt so intimate. 

   “Episode’s almost over. Thanks for playing.” She about sang. Triumphant.

   “I guess you have me, Fenny.” Billy pushed up. “Mind if I take a leak?” He was already pacing off so she said nothing.

   Just watched couples go hand in hand into the sunset.

   There was a flush, the sink running, and then Billy’s huge smile crept back down the hallway. The boy was gone all of three minutes.

   Bourbon in his arms. Purring. Perfectly happy. Evie’s jaw dropped open.

   “Guess who crawled out of the shower to eyeball my junk? Not that I blame him.” Billy quipped, scratching the cat’s chin. Bourbon rubbed back into the touch. Rasped his scratchy meow for more.

   “Traitor...” Evie muttered, coming to her feet. “Damn it.”

   “Oh, yeah. You’re mine now, Evie. Seven o’clock. Wear something short if you like.” Billy’s lips were pressed up. Such an ass.

   "I call foul." Her finger lifted.

   "And I'll be calling on you. New Years Eve. Just an annoying dance. It'll be fun and free." His chin gestured at her. "Just say yes, Evie. Get out of this small town and see some lights for once. You want your name in them so bad, you gotta look at the damn things first. No day but today. Right?"

   "Right," a lengthy sigh, "but, the fire's still out. Bourbon, why? First, mom and now you. He's just hypnotizing you both.” Evie took the cat from Billy, watched his face scrunch.

   “Your cat is really named Bourbon?” He said flatter.

   “I found him when we visited family in New Orleans. Bourbon street.” She let the feline nuzzle into her chest.

   “God, Angel, I hope your lyrics are more creative than that.” Billy lightened, chest shaking as he peered away shaking his pretty head. “Well?”

   She pouted and if that cat wasn't between them, Billy didn't know what he would have done. Another time or place. Another pretty dress. Another shared beat of bleeding together.

   That itched him the rest of the night.

   “I’ll go. Seven. I’ll dress nice. It’s not a date, so don’t try anything and get me home in one piece. I reserve the right to leave you if you act like too much of an ass.” Evie grumbled some about it, defeated.

   But, she wondered about the lights and what it might be like to share them. Suppressed all urges that longed to hope.

   “That much I can do, I might even keep my ass in check. Don’t flake, we have a deal. I’ll be your Mr. Darcy or whatever.” Billy made for the door, plucking up his jacket as she opened it.

   “That’s an impossible standard, but keep dreaming.” Evie sighed out. Watched him turn to beam. Offered a pet to Bourbon. “Least you got his name right.”

   “Quick learner, I get points. New Years Eve. Don’t make me chase you, Evie, because I will.” Billy stepped off the porch lighting a cigarette, idly waved behind him.

   Game. Set. Match.

   “I’m not gonna be nice about it.” She called.

   “So, you’ll be your normal, cheery self with me. Great. Won't ask for anything else, we have a good thing going.” He turned to wink, curling a final smile. Evie stilled, petting her cat before sighing into the cold air. “See you then, Fenny.”

   “Whatever you say, Hargrove.” She shut the door as he climbed his own porch. Looked at her cat.

   “You did this to us, I hope you’re proud.” 

   Bourbon blinked. Another rumbling purr in response.

** ** **

   “The world...” Evie plucked an idle cord. Sang soft to not disturb her mother down the hallway sleeping. Nestled into the wall on her bed next to the window. “May think I’m foolish. They can’t see you like I can...”

   Darkness shrouded save for a small set of twinkling lights around her bed frame. Eyes kept averting to the clock.

   “Oh, but anyone...who...” 

   Another pause to see the clock. Eyes flickered out along the street marked with lamps. Cracking her window to see out. Nothing. Evie settled. Changed the tune to something original and plucked another heart string.

   “Those ocean eyes… Drowning me out. What I wouldn't give to...” Her palm caught the vibrating cord to snuff the sound. A groan as she set the guitar aside. “Shit.”

   That was not happening.  

   A car went down the street at the exact moment the clock struck eleven. Evie grabbed her coat and locked her bedroom door. Checked her hair and makeup before hitching one leg over the window. Felt the naughty thrill pulse into her heart as she snuck out.

   Billy peered to see beyond his own window near the foot of his bed. Unseen in the pitch black space. Thought about catching her. It was always a Saturday night. Evie Fenny crept out like clockwork. Wearing something nice under a jacket she held close. Sometimes with the guitar on her back. Lips painted red. Went down the street and returned as the sun rose. He’d observed it often. Sometimes it happened on school nights. Two to three times a week. Never asked because it didn’t seem important enough before. But, now…

   Billy knew a teen girl didn’t paint her lips red at eleven o’clock on a Saturday for just anyone.

   Evie hurried down the street toward the woods at the end. Got into a shiny car. Disappeared until sunrise.

~~~~~

Chat with me about Evie & Billy and the impending Skirt Safari Dance! Thanks!

TAGGED:@80sbxtch​ @nottherightseason​ @orxhidshavana​   @alagalaska​ @alongcamedolly​

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Soul in Our Brains || Morgan & Bea

The Un-Dead Witches Club holds its first meeting.

Morgan had hoped that taking Anya on a hunting walk in the neighborhood would make her feel more at ease, and convince her that, no, she wasn’t a body snatcher, she was herself. To sweeten the deal, Morgan had even put on some of her old things and brought along a bag of treats to pepper down the walk. So far, Anya was cooperating, but with a fair amount of suspicion. She kept glaring at her, like how dare Morgan know her weakness for treats and leverage them against her. But she was willful enough, at least, not to let her irritation get in the way of her hunt. If anything, she sniffed and dug harder that the mounds of dirt for blood-crusted feathers, or still fleshy bones. Or, her favorite, baby rabbits in their burrows. She was sniffing out one now, circling a loose patch of grass, sniffing and wriggling in preparation to pounce. Rather and pull her away for the rabbits’ sake, Morgan lingered and let her try her best. It was the circle of life, the way of all things. Deirdre had tried to explain that to her before, but she often felt too sorry for the rabbits. Too small, too helpless. Anya couldn’t help her bloodlust, but at least pigeons had the strength to put up a good fight.

Anya backed up two paces, eyes focused. She pounced.

“HOLY SHIT!”

Morgan jumped back, jerking Anya off her balance.

She could have sworn there was nothing in front of her before, but suddenly, clear and real and very headless was Bea Vural.

“Uuuhhh…” She stammered, covering her mouth lest she scream again. “--Bea? Are you--? I’m seeing you, right--?”

There was very little to do as a ghost. Bea could not sleep nor eat nor speak to most people. It was boring, to say the least. She had taken to simply wandering, sometimes through the woods in search of her head. Today she found herself in front of her parents’ house. They had no idea the fate that had become of her, her sisters couldn’t tell them until after the ritual. Bea hoped there would be nothing to tell her mother. By the time Nisa returned to White Crest, her eldest daughter’s fate would be sealed. Either finally back from the dead or put to rest. Turning very quickly, she gaped at Morgan. The former witch had become a zombie. Morgan could see Bea. The relief that swept through Bea was clearly visible. “Yes. You are. I’m here. It’s been so long since I could speak to anyone,” She admitted. Blanche had been around, but she hated to put the medium through it looking like this. “Is that a cat on a leash?” She asked, suddenly distracted by the seemingly annoyed animal.

“Speak to anyone,” Morgan repeated, still trying to process. “Because you--” Only kind of have a head? That definitely didn’t come up in the talk she’d had, but then, why would it? Who would want to mention something awful like that? It took Morgan a few moments to digest the sight--it was different, knowing what Bea was supposed to look like. Knowing how confident, how certain and warm she was, how animated made her wispy form so much more eerie than the ghosts she saw at the cemetery. To Morgan, those spirits had always sported holes in their chests or cracks in their face, it was how they had always been. This Bea stood in painful contrast to who she knew, floating not in the spotlight but invisible, holding up her head to feel whole as the world phased right through her. “You’re a ghost,” she said at last. “I...I’ve heard from Nell. But not about...this. Uh….” Morgan fumbled for what to say next. Maybe she really had been too hard on her friends for not knowing how to talk around her own death. She looked down at Anya, circling the rabbits and fretting on her leash.

“Yes! That is...exactly what it looks like! That’s Anya, she’s--well, she was my familiar, and now I’m either on her shit list for dying or she thinks I’m some kind of evil body snatcher. She has a lot of energy, most of the time. Uh…sorry, it just feels weird talking about my cat in the yard while--” She paused to wave at one of the neighbor kids. Becoming known as the bounce house lady sure had its drawbacks when you suddenly needed to be discreet. “While Braylee and her brother walk their dog. Can we--is it weird to just invite you to my place for a bit? Deirdre’s at work, it’ll just be the two of us. And the cats.”

“It took awhile for me to make it back here. And at first I wasn’t tethered here so I kept fading,” Bea explained, glancing down at her feet. She half expected herself to begin to fade away just from speaking about it. She glanced around them, understanding Morgan’s hesitation quickly. God she had forgotten people would think Morgan was losing her mind if she sat there in the front yard talking to someone they couldn't see. “Of course, probably best the neighbors don’t think you’re losing it.” Glancing around, she pointed at the house nearby,“Is this one your’s?”

As Bea explained the time she’d been having, Morgan realized she didn’t know the first thing about being a ghost. They looked so idle and peaceful, she hadn’t thought that it would take just as much effort for them to pull themselves together into a shape as it did for her to make it out the door on her low days. Seen through their struggle, it was hard not to wonder if all the undead weren’t straining against some ancient curse. “That must have been so exhausting,” she murmured. “That must be…” she shook her head, at a loss. “No, we’re down the road, but it’s not far. Although I guess for us, time and tiredness is all relative and--” She couldn’t help but look at Bea in earnest, however strange it was. “I hate it when people tell me they’re sorry about what happened to me, but I don’t know what else to say, except...I am glad to see you. And...stars, I wish you didn’t have to hurt like this. But we can talk about all this inside, I think.” She pulled on Anya’s leash and turned back in the direction of home. “Come on, Anya,” she cooed. The black cat stiffened and glared before sulking along. Yeah, definitely wasn’t going to be winning any points with her today.

It had been exhausting. Pulling herself to Blanche had made her fade for days after. However, it was getting easier for Bea as the days went and as they got closer to the ritual. Having a reason to stay tethered her, though she hated the idea of what would happen if the ritual failed. She didn’t want to be like this forever. “I’m sure there’s worse to go through,” She answered mildly, instead of giving Morgan the truth, having no desire to spread her misery to other people. “I know what you mean. I’ve been able to see more of this town as a ghost because I never have to sleep.” She was glad that Morgan didn’t offer a sorry. Bea wasn’t particularly sorry for what had happened. She had made the decision to save her sisters and she would do it again, even if there was no chance she could come back. She was sure they felt guilty over it all and frankly, she hated it. “Thank you. It’s a breath of fresh air to be seen and heard.” After visiting Felix, she had been rather sure she would only have Blanche. Morgan took a certain amount of ache out of her chest. “I didn’t know you lived near my parents,” She said softly as she followed behind Morgan. “It’s a nice neighborhood here.”

Morgan couldn’t help but chuckle. With Bea behind her, it was almost like she was really here, just having a normal talk. “Yeah, I didn’t either, until I ran into your mom at the shops. I think she got the entire store’s attention on us, just so she could say hi. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have guessed she got someone to position one of those fans to windsweep her hair just right as she came over to hug me. It was uh, a lot of questions to field about my love life, but you can’t really dish about inter-species relationships when you're just on a run for fresh blueberries, so--” She shook her head, a sheepish smile just visible as she stopped herself from looking back to face Bea fully. “...Does she know? Your mom?” She asked, turning the corner and coming up to the white house she shared with Deirdre. “Nell said not to tell anyone, and I figure everyone needs their privacy, but I just...I know how hard and awful it is, to have to spread news like that.” She cleared her throat, not knowing if this was the sort of thing Bea wanted to talk about. She’d been fading in and out for how many weeks now? Without anyone to talk to? “We’re um, we’re here,” she said awkwardly, leading them up the walk and through the front door.

“She does everything like she’s on stage,” Bea chuckled. “I wouldn’t be shocked if she had some magic going to make sure she always looked like that.” Her mother had so many tricks that she did to make sure she always looked her best, it honestly impressed Bea at times. Nisa had a spell for everything, even the things no one else seemed to think of. “Probably not the place to do it,” She laughed again. Her mother would probably approve of the relationship if only because it had Morgan in this side of town. Nisa did put a lot of importance on money. Bea knew the right thing to do would be to let her mother know, but she knew what would come after. “No. I asked my sisters to wait to tell her.” She was tempted to spill the details of the ritual to Morgan, but the risk outweighed the reward at this point. She couldn’t have a wild card when it came to knowing about the necromancy. She wanted to trust her, but Bea didn’t know enough about the other woman’s connections to the coven to trust it. “She’ll blame them,” She admitted. Her mother would take her grief out of her younger daughters and Bea wanted to delay that as much as she could. Following Morgan in, she smiled. “It’s a beautiful place you guys have. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Oh, because she’s away? Is there no getting her back sooner, or--” Morgan sighed. Much as the Vurals had tried to welcome her in, she really wasn’t privy to the inner workings of their families. She waited for Bea to come in before closing the door. She could phase through as well as any other ghost but it somehow seemed more polite to give her the kind of gestures she would have been afforded if she were still alive. Morgan stopped short of offering her something to drink. Even she, almost two months dead, struggled to feel anything but resentful of food she couldn’t taste, unless the mood for texture really struck her. So, only one cold glass for this visit. Morgan let Anya off her harness and lead Bea into the great room, promptly deflating onto the couch. “It’s my pleasure. And hey, if you ever get lonely, you can count on at least one whole undead friend to always be able to see you. My girlfriend too, actually, but I don’t know if that would make you feel too...vulnerable, or something. How--how has it really been, Bea? From my experience, waking up dead is kind of a bitch.”

They were lucky this all happened when their mother was away, Bea wasn’t sure how they would hide this all from Nisa. The matriarch of the Vurals was far too nosy to ignore Bea’s presence being missing from the theater. “She’s in Turkey with my dad for the solar eclipse and I have a thing I want to settle before they find out.” She hoped it was vague enough that Morgan wouldn’t be suspicious but there was no good reason for Bea to avoid telling her mother that she was dead. “It really is a relief to know that you can hear me. I ... I had someone very close to me find a way to see me but we couldn’t speak. And I can’t speak to Blanche for too long, not looking like this.” The fact that Morgan wasn’t repulsed by the sight of her was a blessing. She wasn’t sure how she would do if another person vomited at the sight of her. A pained smile took over Bea’s face. “To say that it’s lonely is a gross understatement. And some days it feels like I’ll lose myself with how angry I am.” She shrugged, “I’ll be fine though. There’s not much to do about it.”

“A thing, huh? Okay.” Morgan’s brow arched with interest, but she didn’t press. Talking about anything to do with life was fraught, worse so when the death was recent. But Bea’s remark about seeing the people in her life gave her pause. “I’ve seen my fair share of ghosts by now. As you can probably guess, you’re definitely still one of the pretty ones--” Her face was at least fully intact, although it was still hard to redirect her eyes to Bea’s head rather than the empty space above her neck. “You can come here anytime you feel like it. And you don’t have to...I mean it does suck. I’m trying to be all well adjusted, but it’s...worth being angry about. I don’t think that’s a bad thing to feel. I mean, we were witches, and now the only magic we can touch is the magic that’s keeping us on this plane of existence. Which, I’m grateful for, for both of us, but...it feels cruel sometimes.” But her state, like Morgan's, might be permanent. Adjusting and managing might be all that was left. She looked at the oldest Vural thoughtfully, considering her own brand of courage and determination, reaching out for people, trying to have something, even like this. It reminded her of something. “Bea...do you mean Felix?” She asked.

“I can’t say much about it.” Bea knew she was technically lying to Morgan, but this was something she couldn’t admit to just yet. It put the whole plan in danger if Morgan didn’t agree with it. She wasn’t going to let her chance to come back slip through her fingers because of friendship. “Even so, she has a weak stomach and I know she doesn’t like to look at me when I’m like this. I can’t actually blame her.” She was sure she would feel a bit queasy herself if someone she cared for showed up without a head. “It’s certainly cruel. There are moments where it feels like the universe is trying to get back at me for something.” It was nice being here with Morgan. She understood better than anyone else what had been lost. The disconnect Bea felt from magic had been like losing a part of herself, it was indescribable, but she didn’t even have to try with Morgan. Bea was glad that Morgan had seen her like this rather than anyone else. She looked at Morgan in surprise,“Yes I do. How did you know?”

Morgan’s look widened, gaping with delight. “Oh my god! You’re the girl!” She gasped, then covered her mouth, trying to cover the look of awe and gossip on her face. “Oh, that’s---that’s wonderful. Maybe not now, yet, but it will! We’ll...figure something out, somehow. You will, Bea.” Then, remembering her question. “We got to talking recently, and he said something about a girl. How you didn’t get to say everything plain and clear before you passed. And that it was complicated now, because of that. And you told me he was your best friend one, pretty excitedly too, I gotta say.” She looked at Bea thoughtfully, dropping her hand to grin. “Maybe there’s something about witches and fae that make them hard to resist. Maybe we just found the best ones there are. I wish it could’ve happened for you sooner, Bea,” she sighed.

It was bittersweet to know that Felix had spoken to Morgan. Bea smile became tight as she remembered how difficult it had been to speak to him. “I might have had to tell him the depth of my feelings through a board. He couldn’t hear me.” Looking back at it, she felt terrible for how she told him. He deserved more than her admitting her feelings like that. “It was in front of my face for years. When he found out that I was a witch and he let go of his glamour around me, I knew something was changing. I just didn’t realize what until I was gone.” She sighed along with Morgan, “If we can’t find some way to work it out in the end, could you make sure he knows I want him to be happy?”

Morgan looked sorrowfully at Bea as she explained the rest of the story. She couldn’t imagine sitting like something on that for years, but maybe when someone made you feel that safe all the time, you didn’t notice the pull between bodies or the exact texture of warmth or longing between an embrace. She’d heard these things were said, at least. And maybe it was a tragedy in its own way, to take such things for granted without realizing. Morgan had never considered the alertness and sensitivity that came with her series of losses might be a good thing. She couldn’t help but notice when she was getting attached, even if the realization was followed with dread or nervousness. But maybe it was. “I’ll tell him, Bea,” she said gently. “But don’t give up yet, okay. Hey, how are you with holding things as a ghost? Have you thought about sending him a letter? An old fashioned guy like him, maybe it’ll make him brighten up a little. And…” she tried to think. “I don’t know. There’s got to be some magic to make you a little more...you. If you could possess a radio, or a phone, that might--I don’t know. But you were the one who thought being dead didn’t mean I had to stop being a witch completely. I can try to look, if you want.”

Bea knew that she would know whether or not her message should be delivered soon enough. She would refuse her sisters if they failed and wanted to try again. She had read about people who refused to give up and how even after succeeding their loved one was wrong. She didn’t want to come out of this wrong and twisted. “I haven’t been able to hold anything yet. Blanche said it may take me a while to learn. Since I’ve lasted more than two weeks I think I’ll start to get strong enough to do it, but it can take a long time.” She wasn’t sure she wanted to wait that long, she didn’t think she could wait that long before she turned into a bitter ghost. She smiled slightly at Morgan,”I did say that. If you have the time to look, I wouldn’t mind it if you did. I can always use more opinions.”

“I’m a zombie, Bea. I have nothing but time,” Morgan said. “The ocean fills with ink, the sun blinks on the hour, my girlfriend goes on a mushroom ring bender, and I’m still here, somehow still with enough time to feel bored. Or sad. But Felix has been helping with that, purely in the medicinal sense, so we’re clear.” She regarded her thoughtfully. It wasn’t fair, how she could see the furniture through Bea’s back, how her expressions were limited without the use of tilting her head on her own. “I’ll do whatever I can that you think will help, Bea,” she said softly. “It’s the least I can do. We...stars, I know we weren’t ever, you know, the closest or anything. You always seemed to have things together, while I was running around like a headless chicken, but I know...something about how isolating it is to be dead. Those pieces inside you that feel like they’ve been cut out, where your magic was. It’s...the worst thing, feeling how much a part of you it all was by feeling the hole it leaves. And I can’t say that I’ve found a way to fill mine yet either, just that it’s scabbed over. But I know we didn’t do anything wrong. Well, you didn’t, anyway. Maybe there’s not a way to fix everything, but if there’s a way to make this good, I’ll help. Even if it’s just someone to talk to who knows where your eyeballs are.”

“I might not understand it at the same level, but I get having so much time you don’t know what to do.” Being a ghost was boring in ways that Bea couldn’t explain. Not being able to rest was something that bothered her much more than she realized it would. If she came back, she was going to appreciate her sleep much more than she used to. “I think we could have been great friends if things hadn’t worked out this way.” She hoped that if things went well this would make them great friends. Bea was sure that she would need friends who understood dying as something more than an abstract construct. She couldn’t help the slight laugh at ‘headless chicken’,“Well, I’m the headless one now, so don’t worry.” She listened to Morgan carefully, finding a bit of solace in knowing that she didn’t have to be okay so soon. “Scabbing is good… It means it’s healing right?” She considered Morgan for a few moments,“I don’t think you did anything wrong either. Neither one of us deserved what happened.” It was unexpected, how this conversation made her so happy. She hadn’t felt quite so light since her death, though she supposed being heard for the first time in weeks by someone other than Blanche would do that. She’d have to thank Morgan for this if she came back. “Speaking to someone who can see my eyes is a perk. I didn’t realize how important that was until now,” She told her with a soft chuckle.

Morgan’s face dropped. She would have blanched with embarrassment if there was any circulation left in her, but as it was, she covered her face, eyes wide and parted her hands enough to reveal a grimace. Sorry, she mouthed. But Bea took it nicely in stride and she felt just brave enough to let out a nervous laugh. “I want to be your friend too, Bea. The dead witches club is very exclusive, you know. I don’t think they’ll be admitting more members anytime soon. We gotta celebrate what we’ve got.” Her coy, wry smile turned sad, because sometimes it really was like there was so little. All they could do was hang on, but it was hard, on the worst days, not to feel like she was being a desperate fool. She hadn’t felt that way in a while, thanks to Felix’s magic pills, but it was in her, buried like a corpse in a shallow grave, like bones just waiting to be found. She managed a smile at Bea, knowing she understood the strain behind it, however bright she seemed, however earnestly it was meant. “Healing is good, yeah. And I’m glad--” She reached out and gave Bea’s nose a gentle boop, approximate to the cold wisp of air that formed it. “--to be able to offer something. Even if it’s small. We need all the good we can get, I think.”

“I would hope we add no others anytime soon. The witch community needs a break,” Bea said with a raspy laugh. Her smile turned sharp as she thought of August’s soon death. He wouldn’t be admitted to the club, she’d make sure of that. The coven wasn’t losing anyone important with his demise. They were doing the world a favor getting rid of that worm. Even if Bea didn’t end up coming back, she’d be glad that he’d be wiped away from the earth. Her hand went to her nose, a bit surprised that Morgan was so casual with touch towards a ghost. “Not many people out there that understand. Being around you has been good. Really good. I think I needed this a lot more than I thought I did.”

[r-ahh-mi]

✨Slurpee’s In An Alley✨ Rami Malek x Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: none; pure fluff baby

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“What are you doing?”, Rami squinted up at your standing form from his sitting position on the ground.

“Just taking a photo of my boyfriend who apparently is a fucking model,” you smiled down at him before snapping a photo.

Slurpee in hand, mid laugh, and his curly, disheveled hair; he looked like a piece of art. A ‘very tipsy off of way too many whiskey sours’ piece of art, but beautiful none the less.

What was suppose to be a 10 minute walk from the bar and grill just down the road from Rami’s new apartment turned into, ‘oooo I’ve always wanted to go into this store can we?’, and ‘I haven’t had a slurpee in forever’. Trust me, you weren’t complaining. It was great to have some time with him that didn’t involve a mass amount of cameras following your every movement and action.

“Hey can I borrow that blazer sometime?”

Rami laughed as he settled into his sitting position in the middle of a back alley way in who knows what neighborhood because now you were definitely not anywhere near his apartment anymore.

“I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me or if you genuinely want to borrow my blazer,” he said as he patted the cement spot next to him.

You eyed the spot quizzically, but wasn’t too terribly surprised by his unique desire to sit in the middle of a road granted his carefree personality and the number of alcoholic beverages he consumed in a matter of an hour.

Gladly, you sat next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as his left arm draped around your body.

“You know I would never joke around with velvet, I fucking love velvet.”

You felt Rami’s chest vibrate with a laugh as he reached his arm, that was draped around your shoulder, down to grab your hand in his.

You placed a kiss to his knuckle as you gave his hand a squeeze.

“This is so crazy,” you all but whispered as your eyes spaced out into the distant sun light.

He didn’t need to reply because you knew that you were both thinking the same thing. Things were so different from when you first encountered Rami, or rather, the Malek twins on your first day at a new high school way, way back when.

They were both flirty and friendly and welcoming to you as you situated yourself in the middle aisle seat, with sami on your left and rami on your right. Now, you are both in your 30’s. Full fledged adults and still you held this deep admiration for one another.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Rami’s pointer finger lightly poking at your cheek, immediately making you look at him.

“I lost you there for a second. Come back to me babe.”

You smiled, “I’m sorry I was just thinking about how.. how we always talked about having our careers and homes and cars and... everything we talked about when we were younger. We have that now and we got to get all of those things alongside one another.”

You both wore a pair of identical smiles and exchanged loving gazes for what could have been seconds, could’ve been minutes - you lost track of time in moments like these when you were both in your own little world.

Rami’s head slightly moved down towards yours, you immediately closing the distance between your pout and his and colliding your lips with one another.

“It is nice,” his husky voice replied, with his lips still tickling your own, while his thumb was busy tracing the outline of the small bones connecting your fingers to your hands.

“I’m happy you stuck with me Y/N. I know it wasn’t easy for you when people started knowing my name and face.. when everyone started wanting a piece of me, you always shared and took a step back to let me sort of have a spotlight and let me do what I love.”

You couldn’t stop the bright red splashing onto your cheeks as you buried your face in his shoulder to hide your ever ‘growing by the second’ smile from him. Regardless of the number of years you two had been acquainted, his little rants about how grateful he was for you always got to you. Instantly turning you into a little cherry tomato and Cheshire Cat all rolled up into one.

“No hiding, tell me what you are feeling little miss red cheeks.”

Your muffled laugh could be heard as you kept your head on his shoulder, but turned so you were looking straight up at him.

“You’re doing what you love Rami. Even all the con’s that come with your career, I could never hate something that you love and something that you are.”

“Except, i know you hate how messy I am.”

“Okay, that’s true...”, you bit your lip to stifle your grin a bit.

“And how I snore at night... and my road rage-“

“Okay okay I get the point. You’re wrong about the road rage though, that sort of turns me on. You yelling and that one vein in your neck popping out...” You dramatically started fanning yourself as Rami shook his head, clearly trying not to bust out laughing at your usual antics.

“Well i guess I should drive more often then hmm?” Rami’s eyes flickered downwards towards your lips as he so slightly nibbled on his own bottom lip.

“Oh honey, I will gladly cut you off if it means I get to see you get angry.”

“You’re so fucking dumb Y/N.” Rami playfully poked your side. “...but you’re my kind of dumb.”

“Gee thanks,” you playfully scoffed as your finger began tracing his jaw line.

Your eyes began to wander his face; his once chubby cheeks were now sculpted to his bones, his beautiful eyes were now tired looking, but still just as shiny as always, and his lips were slightly pouted and curved upwards into a small smile. Wow you wanted his mouth on yours...

“Just tell me you want me to kiss you already,” Rami teasingly nudged his nose into yours, creating a sort of Eskimo like kiss as His whiskey coated lips were mere millimeters from your own.

“Ugh, shut up Ram.”

You forcefully kissed him as his hand moved to the small of your back, nudging your body to crawl into his lap so that the kiss could be deepened even more so. Gladly, You straddled his sitting form, never breaking your lips apart from one another as your hands went to the back of his neck.

Yep, you were really in the middle of an alleyway making out, but it’s what you guys had always done. You weren’t traditional or conventional by any means, but you were madly head over heels for one another and valued the unique element that was always brought into your long term relationship. It created this sort of open and carefree environment that always made either of you feel safe and genuine in 100% of the time.

You jumped from Rami’s lap as a loud car horn shook you both out of your heated lip lock and brought you back to reality.

Hurriedly, you stood up to a standing position, offering a hand to help Rami up as well, as you both moved out of the way of the vehicles path, laughing hysterically at the situation.

“I swear Y/N, only we get up to stupid shit like this.”

“Whatever, you love it,” you wrapped your arms around his neck as you placed one last kiss to his lips before settling your foreheads together.

“I love you Y/N.”

[ghostmartyr]

Done more x fandom please? I love reading what happens to you and your thoughts, it's fascinating!

Aha, this was in response to more cheerful one than the usual fare, so I’ll do what I can to stick with that theme. :)

Uh. Though it starts with sad? Dog-dying sad. Literally.

Then it goes back to happy.

A few years back, my family had to put our dog, Luke, down. He’d been diabetic for a couple of years, and we were working our way around that as much as we could, but scratches he picked up on his feet weren’t healing, and then bone cancer came along.

He was still himself when the time came, which made it better and worse. Better, because he could enjoy eating pizza with all of us for the first time in years, and worse, because he always hated not being with us, and there was still room for a few more great days. Watching him go to sleep one last time was hard. It’s still difficult to think about.

Luke was really my first dog. My family had two others before him, but I wasn’t around at an age to know them. Luke, we got when I first got sick. The idea was that I’d have a companion.

Luke was a black lab/pit mix with a bright red collar. Very smart, very energetic, very much not a lapdog. One of the things that still hurts is that when we got him, I was sure that by the time he was out of puppyhood, we’d be running around together all the time.

That never got to happen. I recovered a lot during his lifetime, but not enough to be part of his life in the way I really wanted to be.

Words cannot do justice to how much we loved this dog. He was part of our family. On car trips, he’d sit up in his seat like a human. An upright sitting position, looking out the window. He had a very firm grasp on seat hierarchy, and would always try to keep the front seat, even when there were other people in the car.

Sometimes we let him. First dibs is first dibs.

We have wood floors. His claws clacked along on top of them every single day for years. The first time after Luke passed and my brother brought one of his client’s dogs over, they walked through the house and my heart almost stopped at the noise.

When we’d all go out to dinner without him, the first thing we did when we got home was go to the backyard gate and open it, and he’d charge out, so happy to see us that he couldn’t sit still long enough for petting. He’d run back and forth across the driveway and the lawn, making kind of a racket, and always come back to us, trying not to jump up because he wasn’t allowed, but so, so happy we were home.

We gave him our restaurant leftovers when we had some. He clearly liked us more than the food, but sometimes it was a close thing.

We didn’t go out very often all together, which was part of why our return was always such a huge event. He was used to someone being at home with him constantly, or going with us when we had somewhere to be.

That was what was hardest, after he was gone. We still don’t go out very often. Forget together, just going out at night and coming home to all the lights off is an unusual experience.

It’s been a few years, and every single time I’ve come home to a dark house, I expect a dog to be waiting for me. There’s a momentary disconnect when he isn’t there. Every single time, it’s strange that he isn’t there to bark (loudly) at the door, and race to greet me.

I watch people’s pets sometimes, and for months, it took active effort not to call them Luke. Watching any dog out on the street was hard, and suddenly it seemed like our neighborhood had too many black labs.

In the time before we got Luke, we would all point out any dog we saw out in the world. “Look, one of those things we don’t have! Hint hint!” We knew we were going to get one. We knew there wasn’t really a plan, but the foundation of setting up for a new addition to the household. We were all excited.

(Except my mom. She cried the night before we got him. She had a sick child, and thanks to that, she was going to end up with a dog she had no time or energy for who would be up at the crack of dawn, ruining her precious sleep.

Luke liked to sleep in. We were always the ones to wake him up.

My mom was the one who was home most often, besides me. She took him to the store. She took him everywhere she went, because he was always so sad when he didn’t get to go on our outdoor adventures.

Luke was her dog.)

I didn’t know we were going to end up with a dog when we did. Like the rest of us (except maybe one of my brothers, who was very surprised when we picked him up from gymnastics and there was a dog in the backseat), I knew the dominoes were falling that way. But I’d never really gone through the process of getting a pet, except for with some fish that I tried and failed to not kill.

So when we stepped into a pet store on a day they were doing adoptions, I didn’t think we’d end up with one. That wasn’t how it worked, right? It wasn’t something so simple as showing up on a day and saying there, that one.

Except for this time where it was.

He showed up late, with his brother. They’d been stuck in traffic. We hadn’t really fallen in love with any of the other dogs there, but then they showed up in their crate, very, very sleepy. I remember reaching through a hole in the crate to pet his paw. For years, that was what I thought of whenever I touched any of his paws.

I picked him out of the two because when the light hit his fur, he had some chocolate in him. And he was adorable. Skinny and a bit malnourished, with his fur not as sleek as it could have been, but just… perfect.

My memory is that we took him home the day the sixth Harry Potter book came out, because I was devouring it in the backseat nearest to his crate on the way to pick up my brother.

After Luke was gone, dogs on the street, happy and full of life, hurt too much to enjoy. There was such a massive hole in our lives that we thought about doing the thing of immediately going out and finding another one to love, but the dog-shaped hole wasn’t just about a dog. It was about Luke. There wasn’t another Luke out there.

When my brother and his wife started planning to buy a house, we’d had some time, so what the rest of us were most excited for was that they’d have space for a dog. We weren’t ready for having one that wasn’t Luke, but… dog. Dogs are good. Need dog to visit and pet, if not own.

Naturally, my brother and sister-in-law ended up with three cats instead.

Not really on purpose, but still. The traitors.

Around this time, I was starting to have a few unfortunate spikes in mental health problems. As a side effect, I discovered that while I wasn’t looking, my body had relearned how to handle walking. Like, reasonable distances. I was wandering around aimlessly outside, and covering a lot of ground doing so. Often in the middle of the night.

My parents are getting older. They’re trying not to, but what can you do. One of the major obstacles of getting another dog (if we wanted one) was who would walk it. My other brother, who is not responsible for cats, has decided to take up living with us for a year, then running off to some other country for another year. He can’t be counted as consistent help even when he’s here, since he has to work to save up for his trips.

So me being able to walk meant that one thing on the hypothetical, “if we were to get a dog, these things would have to happen first,” list. And more and more, missing Luke was coming second to missing having a dog. Plus, I was majorly depressed. Something warm and possibly cuddly had its appeal.

(Luke was never cuddly. He was a dignified creature who was smart enough to feel embarrassed when we laughed when he did something we found silly. He was the most human dog I have ever met.)

We started to float the idea a little. Dogs on the street looked more like possibilities than painful reminders.

My parents were possibly also more than a little concerned that I was wandering around in the middle of the night, sort of kind of hoping someone might murder me.

The most glaring problem with getting another dog would be the fence. The fence that is almost twenty years old. It had holes that neighborhood cats were already taking advantage of. It would not hold a puppy for any safe amount of time, and my father is a firm believer in not paying anyone for work he can do himself.

(This is how my family has multiple stories involving my dad drilling holes in their personal computers.

In fairness. He did fix them.)

Again though, parents getting up in years, and my dad especially is very busy. Building a new fence takes time, planning, and physical labor.

Enter me dissolving into tears on a regular basis, and my father having no clue whatsoever how to comfort a living person beyond very rudimentary hugs at peak misery, so hey, time to fix the fence.

(Exact sequence of events or not, he did once spot me at peak misery and immediately dragged me outside to help him with the fence with a thing he did not need help with even a little. It was honestly more helpful than him hugging me and then walking off awkwardly because I am a problem he can’t fix and I think that causes him a great deal of stress.)

It becomes the thing. Fix fence, get dog.

It’s starting to get exciting, by the time we bring out the power saw that my parents have owned for thirty years and not once taken out of the box.

Even a little scary, because oh hell, what if it’s too much like Luke?

What if I can’t love it?

What if I can’t play with it the way I want to because I’m still too sick?

What if it picks up on the complete disaster I am and it gets hurt by being near that much negativity?

We start talking about what kind of dog we’d like, and we don’t really come up with any conclusive answers. We agreed it would be a rescue, and my mom didn’t think we, as a family, could survive a dog with long fur, but we were pretty much open to whatever creature God decided on for us.

Well, mostly.

I, very specifically, said that I didn’t want something too much like Luke.

Black lab/pit mix. That was off the table.

My dad finishes the fence.

Because he is this sort of person, he immediately goes to investigate what sort of puppies might be presently available.

You will never guess what he found.

He, being him, calls me over to his computer with, “look, it’s exactly what you don’t want!”

I, being me, start to have the anxiety problem I am prone to where I just shut up and go with whatever flow is ruling the day. I go over, I look at the mama dog, and she looks so much like Luke. Like… so much. But then my dad switches over to the puppies, and they’re cute, and they aren’t all solid black, and one even looks like it might be a yellow lab.

They have pretty great names. Trip, Barbecue, Picnic, Frisbee. Good grief, how can you say you have no interest in a creature named Frisbee. Names had been one of the things I wondered most about, since I could hardly even remember how we came to naming Luke. It was perfect for him, but what little I could remember told me we couldn’t be trusted to name things.

(My mom maintains that he is named for the Biblical Luke, the rest of us know Star Wars was involved.)

These little guys and their mom had been left in a kill shelter, then picked up by the rescue group. Their foster home had their own dog that looked a lot like the mom, and they couldn’t say no.

The way this rescue group works, you fill out an application, do a phone interview, then meet the puppies. Then they’ll decide which one you’re best suited for, though you can list a preference. They also request that you read a specific puppy training book.

My parents are annoyingly good at picking up my moods these days, so they knew I wasn’t fully with this, but they really like the way this group does things. Just looking at the way they’re set up, and how much thought and care they put into finding puppies homes, my parents figure that it won’t do any harm to fill out an application and establish ourselves as Not Horrible. Even if this litter isn’t the one for us, there will be others down the line.

Application happens. Phone interview happens.

We have a regular game party my parents do with their high school friends and family. The day the meet and greet for the puppies was originally, we were busy with that. Only the day had been changed right before the phone interview, to the following day.

So. Puppies.

I’m still finding everything wrong with this that I can. Knowing how much my dad loves labs, and my brother wants a dog before he’s in Australia… it does not help. I don’t want to be the only holdout, but it’s a living thing. If we’re doing this, I have to be in, so if I can’t, I’ll have to say so.

That’s not horrifying at all.

But hey, worst case, we get to play with puppies for a few hours. There are worse ways to spend your time.

We show up, and naturally, the puppies are all adorable balls of fur and shyness. With their mom out there with them, looking exactly like Luke, and nudging her puppies out of the way for a chance to say hello and be greeted in turn by the humans.

Luke did that a bit. He was never around puppies, much, but when he was around people, he was determined to have every one in the room petting him at the same time.

The puppies don’t do much for me. Really, I’m scared to touch them. They’re so incredibly tiny, and it’s hard not to imagine me breaking one.

But the mom, and the foster family’s dog…

Oh. I really do miss having a dog.

They wriggle all over when they wag their tails, they chase after balls, they just eat up the attention these complete strangers are handing out by the bucket. They’re alive and solid, and so, so friendly. Truly excellent dogs, and geez, if the mom hadn’t already been snatched up by a family, I don’t think any of us had the willpower to say no.

With the puppies, though, I’m having trouble.

I don’t remember how, but I end up providing a lap for one of them. Barbie, aka Barbecue (all of the puppies hid under the barbecue at one point; they were very tired from all the humans). She was one who hadn’t been listed on the site, because they weren’t sure she was going to make it. She’d gotten a cut on her nose, then went septic. Basically, where you’d expect a black spot of nose to be, there was a fleshy, healing wound.

I can’t do even mild gore and related stuff, but… it was weirdly cute? It changed the shape of her face, a little. And this one was smaller than all her littermates, so I wasn’t so concerned about dropping her. She was really easy to carry, and then hold.

That’s how they get you. Thirty minutes of holding warm puppy fluff.

My family was relatively popular with the puppies, because we were willing to be quiet and not bother them when they started napping. Picnic and Cruiser spent a lot of the afternoon next to us, and Frisbee was pretty much comatose under my brother’s legs the whole time.

By the time we leave, it’s… these are fantastic animals. Their mom is a wondrous creature, they’ve all been so well taken care of, and we have the opportunity to adopt one. It’s something to leap at. Maybe a little scary still, but oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. We could have a puppy.

We’re encouraged to list preferences in the follow-up email. Having held her and fallen in love several times over, I’m leaning towards Barbie, but we’ve never raised a female dog, and we don’t know what kind of medical complications might come up thanks to her injury. We. really have enough of that in our lives. She’s very cute, and isn’t that storybook, for the sick to find the sick, but we had so much tragedy with Luke by the end.

It comes down to the two we spent the most time with. Frisbee and Barbie. We’d be thrilled with any of them, but heck, just watching my brother watch Frisbee would be enough to settle it for me, and Barbie’s adorable. We put Frisbee first on the list for the familiarity factor, and expect a verdict in a few days.

The foster family gets to decide who gets who in the end, and we’re all pretty much vibrating in anticipation. Toys, collars, beds. Dog. We’re going to get a puppy and hopefully not screw it up too badly.

Much earlier than expected, the verdict is reached.

We’re taking home the puppy with the greatest name on earth.

Frisbee.

So I naturally start quietly being terrified that I won’t love him enough, because Barbie was technically my first choice, and oh no will he be able to tell what if I don’t properly bond with him what if what if.

(What I didn’t know at the time was that Barbie briefly went back up on the adoption site, probably because the other people who met the puppies had the same concerns we did about if she’d really be okay. My dad felt quietly horrible about this, and wasn’t going to ever tell me, but it turns out! a lady in Santa Cruz with a house full of dogs and cats wanted her, so she will have a wonderful life with a very large family. :) )

One of the things that came up between us at the meet and greet was how a name like Frisbee could be a little awkward, so when we were rewarded with his care, I had resigned myself to having to come up with a new name. Exciting, because I do like names, but how the heck do you beat Frisbee. That is one of the most perfect things you can call a new puppy.

Somehow, despite the fact that I know the ‘problems’ of his name came up, and I know the consensus among the group was that they were indeed problems, everyone was perfectly fine with keeping the name. As they should be, but a changing of opinion happened.

Good.

Because we have Frisbee now, and he is everything you could ask for in a puppy. He is bouncy and curious, barks at one specific waste basket because he saw it move once, hates being confined, tries to trick us into walking away so he can go up the stairs or through a door he’s not supposed to, plays soccer, and loves having a human to lie on for his naps.

I have thought it many times since bringing him home, but I think one of the last things Luke did for us was show us exactly what sort of dog we needed in our lives.

And because you can’t just talk about your pets without pictures, let’s have some of that.

Luke:

Frisbee:

Two of the greatest dogs anyone could ever hope for.

[indirispeaks]

Nikki

1998 - 2018

“Read more” link because LONG.

I’ve always been a Siamese cat person ever since my dad surprised me on my third birthday with a tiny kitten hidden in his coat pocket.  I named her Smudge, and she was my cat from then until my first year of college 17 years later.  My parents don’t know what happened to her, and guessed she had slipped outside and gone off to die in private somewhere.  (When I was younger it was still acceptable to let the cat out to wander the neighborhood.  She’d always come in when I called for her.  

Our next cat wasn’t Siamese and it was my sisters who named her Smudge II.  I wasn’t as attached to her as I was to Smudge I.  She had horrible skin allergies and licked herself bloody so she had to wear a bib to let it grow back, she was on a special diet and everything but she only lived for 7 years and it was likely due to the medication she had to take.  

I had a snowshoe kitten at one point, but she died under anesthetic while being spayed.  I’d only had her 6 months so that didn’t hurt as bad. 

I left college and started working full time at the library and living on my own at  my coworkers farm.  In the chicken coop.  Whole other story, but I will say that it was utterly fantastic and appealed to my artistic nature.  I found a Siamese breeder nearby and went to see the latest batch of kittens. (Don’t worry, it wasn’t a kitten mill, it was just an elderly couple who loved Siamese and had four of their own, plus however many kittens were floating around.)  The kittens were outdoors when I found them and up til that point, I was set on getting a female...all my cats had been female. I had a little girl in my hands, baby-talking her, when a very determined little boy scaled my pants leg,velcroed himself to my chest, squealing demands.  My choice had been made for me, and I couldn’t resist those eyes and that “YeeeeeEEEEEeeeeEEEEEEEeeee!!”  like a little ambulance siren.  

I had to hide him from my mother until I found the best way to tell her.  She is NOT a cat person.  Poor Nikki had to spend a good hour with his head poking out of her purse that she’d hung on a fence during her tennis lesson...and then over the weekend at a friend’s house.  It worked out in the end, but he never forgave her for that.

Not him, but I don’t have any pictures from his kittenhood because cell phones with cameras hadn’t been invented yet and I didn’t have a camera of my own. That’s the image I found that looks the most like him at 6 months.

These are from last month.  I didn’t take any photos of him when he started deteriorating so quickly.  I don’t want to remember my sweet old man like that.  He would have turned 20 in four months. I wasn’t good to him in some ways.  My mother laid down the ultimatum that if he stayed in the house, he MUST be declawed.  (Which I will never go again to any cat of mine)  I left him for a month at my parents while I was off having a mid-life crisis 30 years early.  

But I fought for him.  He had kidney issues from age two?  Three?  I don’t remember, but he had to live at the vet’s office for a month so they could drain his bladder.  The surgery to fix it was 500 dollars, which isn’t as bad as today’s treatments that run up into thousands and thousands of dollars. I’d already spent 300 on tests and the bladder draining.  I was told that I shouldn’t “spend so much on a pet”  and I ignored that advice outright.  I put down my signed American Girl doll as collateral and he ended up having to have a full sex change.  Still my boy though. He’ll always be.

I said in an earlier post that he wasn’t doing well and was on medication for pain and thyroid issues...three weeks of treatment and he wasn’t showing signs of improvement....he was worse off.  Hunching and swaying, leaning against the wall when he walked or he’d fall right over.  Crab-walking, unable to groom the mats out of his fur and hated it when I tried to help.  God only knows how many times he fell off the bed.  I already had a lidded basket there so he didn’t have to try and jump from the floor, because that usually led to him smashing face first into the sideboard or slide, frantically trying to claw his way over the top, Indiana Jones style.  (His expression was hysterical and I fully admit that I laughed once or twice) I caught him almost every time, but I stopped letting him jump up on ANYTHING without my assistance.  

I made the difficult decision Saturday that the best thing I could do for him would be to give him a peaceful death, free of pain.  My sister Kelsey drove me back to the vet clinic in Derby, and I could not be more grateful.  I knew they would ask for his reason to visit when he checked in and if I opened my mouth to answer, I was going to lose it.  So Kelsey checked him in and then explained to the nurse and did most of the talking in general while I let Nikki explore the landscape in front of the building.  He always liked exploring every new place and watching out the window in the car to see what was happening in the world. I was numb and sort of going on autopilot and don’t remember what I said or if I said anything to anyone other than Dr Mork. I know I thanked her before we left. El Paso clinic were very professional and I am so grateful for that too.  The nurse took us back to one of the “Rainbow Bridge” rooms so we would have some privacy while we waited on the vet and she showed up just a few minutes later.  She was very patient and waited while I got and gave Nikki a drink of water and clipped off some fur to put into a vial.

She explained everything that was going to happen, that she would take him to the surgery and put an IV in, then bring him back.  I wish I’d gone with him, but I didn’t.  While she was doing that, Kelsey and I looked over the options they had as far as final services went.  I could afford everything, if the money from Ebay and Etsy had hit this morning instead of half an hour ago.  I’m going to reimburse her for that.  I chose to have him cremated and store his ashes in a carved wooden box, after having a paw print pressed into some clay.  I plan on keeping them together, probably on one of my shelves, until it stops hurting so much.  His ashes will then be buried in mom and dad’s back garden, under my window with my showshoe kitten, Watson, and Hibble. The pawprint will be hung on the wall to remind me of the good times we had.

She came back and I held Nikki in my arms while she administered an overdose of anesthetic. I told him how much I loved him and he was a good kitty and everything was going to be alright while he purred.  I watched him close his eyes.  I heard him sigh.  I felt him stop purring.

He’s gone.  I have had him half my lifetime, I would have done anything for him and he gave me so much.  He sat on my chest and purred when I came home from the hospital and was in such pain.  He would reach up and touch my chin with his paw until I smiled and told him I was okay.  He had a high prey drive and kept my place insect-free and routinely brought me severed cricket legs, half eaten spiders, and the occasional headless mouse.  He could knock flies off the wall.  I don’t know if he ate them or what but he sure whacked the crap out of them.  He volleyball spike-d a bird out of midair.  He was a good hunter.  He yelled until I let him in the bathroom when I was taking showers to supervise the process and then discovered the bathtub had the best acoustics for his 3 am impressions of the tortured, tormented wailing and howls of a thousand lost souls of the eternally damned.

I held him another few minutes, then wrapped him in a fleece blanket that had been provided, kissed him, and told him goodbye.  Then Kelsey and I left through the side door directly from the room...I guess so that we didn’t have to walk back through the small crowd of people in the waiting room.  I was still in a daze and disoriented and got completely turned around in the parking lot, unable to find where we’d parked.  I don’t even remember the drive back to Kelsey’s house.  She kept me distracted by giving me a make-over and take my one year photo for ‘before and after”  That’s another post entirely, but I was glad for the distraction.  It’s probably a good thing I have NINE different projects going, half of them needing to arrive at their destinations by FRIDAY.  That’s another thing I’m grateful for, it’s a really good way to keep myself distracted.  I don’t think I would have been able to sleep anyway....I really didn’t want to lay in bed and dwell on this.  Hopefully my hands hold up to the pressure, there’s tons of beading involved.

[collectivedreamscapes-moved]

That thought that was too complicated to word earlier.

We are aware that people all respond to trauma differently. We’ve known this for some time now. We’ve told other people this a lot. Because it’s not good to compare your trauma to someone else’s trauma.

We have heard from time to time that because of processing and sensory issues, sometimes things that don’t cause trauma with NTs can cause trauma to autistics. just... because of those basic differences in how the autistic brain handles things. How true this is we’ve never looked into because we didn’t think it was something we needed to worry about.

Now... we’re kinda starting to wonder.

We been through some shit, no lie. Not even gonna try and downplay the level of shit we been through or that it started before we were even born.

For a long time we thought our father was our primary abuser. Because we could remember some of the things he’d done. We grew up thinking it was discipline. Discipline shouldn’t leave bruises behind. Especially on a seven year old.

Those are things we’ve always known, have never forgotten. Our dad beat us. Never been a question. The whole family, extended as well, knew he did. His words were he wanted his kids to fear him more than anything else in this world. Yes... he did say that, more than once.

The rest of the shit he did we didn’t learn for years.

(it always feels like cognitive dissonance that our dad abused us far more overtly and specifically and yet we hate our mother and don’t hate him. we don’t forgive what he did, but it comes down to our father loved us our mother did NOT and we could feel it even then. they both HURT us, damaged us, but the intent was very different and our dad has since TRIED to apologize. our mother NEVER has.)

For a long time... we believed our mother was the safe parent. Because she wasn’t as physically aggressive the way our father was. So it would confuse us that in journals and diaries over the years the most common phrase (other than just feeling like we don’t fucking fit anywhere) was that we hated our mother. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense. (ironically, when our mother read our diaries she was far more concerned with her nine year old daughter hating her rather than the wanting to die part, go figure.)

That was before we knew a lot of things or understood what really counts as abuse.

Over the years we have learned that in some ways, our mother was FAR more abusive. We have learned that children who grow up in abusive homes often ally to the less violent parent because of a NEED to feel there is someone they can trust.

Our mother used that. She would twist things to make us question our reality so badly. Some days we didn’t think we could trust anything we thought we remembered. She made fun of us. She belittled us.She manipulated us. She toyed with us.

My mother has always been about appearances and how the outside world perceived her family. She had this ideal image that was supposed to be projected. Very often we were the problem child who marred her perfect little vision.

Our parents had a rocky marriage at best. We would hear their fights through the floor of our bedroom. They would each use us as a sounding board for shit no kid should be dealing with, would try and sway us to their side. We were left feeling like we were always in the middle of some tug of war and we were supposed to know how to fix what was wrong, or we would have to choose a side. It sucked and left us believing we always had to take care of everyone around us.

We got good at that. Too good.

But here’s the thing. So much of before we were in middle school is piecemeal recall. What things we can recall often didn’t happen IN our home. At school. Around the neighborhood (because we used to wander a lot. so much.). It’s hard to remember things that happened at home at all through the years. We can remember the layout of the house. We could draw it right now if we wanted to. We remember we played musical rooms. We know that we would rearrange our whole room periodically. We can remember things that happened with our brother. We remember random things. We can’t directly recall most of the abusive situations. We know people hold them. We also know so far, no one cares to share them.

Here’s the thing. When we think about our mother in those years, beyond the art crap she would let us do... what we most recall are things like, her yelling at us repeatedly about changing the cat boxes because we had no concept of time and our sense of smell does NOT work like it should. We remember for every nice thing she did there were half a dozen other things we couldn’t understand why she’d do but hurt us. We couldn’t understand why something always rang false with what she would say to us. We knew she treated our siblings differently, but we didn’t know why. She was always telling people ‘that’s just how she is’ or ‘she’s in one of her moods’. She was always belittling what we felt, more worried about how the family would be perceived.

(one notable trip to the base ER for yet another fall because we were clumsy af and had numerous sprained and twisted ankles and wrists and such over the years, she commented ‘god i hope these doctors don’t think you’re being abused’ and we recall looking at her and thinking ‘god forbid someone get a clue and know the truth right?’)

we remember ending up in the ER and having to be held down by two nurses and a doctor (we assume we’d started to have seizures) to give us a shot bc our idiot mother figured we’d grown out of a penicillin allergy (that she shares and is very much an adult and still fucking had) and gave it to us anyway even when we questioned the wisdom of taking it. (the doctor made sure WE understood, not just our mother, that taking that shit could kill us.)

why are we even going over all of this? because of what happened when we woke up, that reflexive hitting our own hand and telling ourselves to ‘stop that’. because we could picture our mother doing that to us. 

(this woman would hit hard enough to bruise her own damn hand okay? she once broke her finger trying to hit the dog for wiggling too much while she was trying to unravel the chain and missed and hit my brother’s Tonka truck instead. and that was the dog. she burst blood vessels in her hand giving my brother a ‘spanking’.)

And we started to wonder... all those splits that aren’t from explicit abuse and the LARGE number of kids in our system... learning about being autistic (and yeah, the signs were SO there even as a two and three and four year old)... how much damage this woman has actually done to us.

(and this is where we have to say... we sometimes remember way more than we think we remember and at the same time so much less. like what did actually happen at home after we almost drowned in canyon lake? got not a clue.)

We used to think it was just... the extent of what we’d been through. Except... it didn’t feel right. Especially because of the Mountain Caves. And the people who stay there. Because they don’t function in a way that would lend itself to being able to take care of themselves. We used to say that all of them were... not quite right in the head. That there was some damage or deficiency in every single one of them. We have wildchild, who often has to be kept in a straight jacket to keep from clawing her face to ribbons and screams and bangs her head. she’s never talked. ever. and she doesn’t scream all the time. but it’s the only sound we’ve ever heard her make.

How many splits have we had for the sole purpose of appearing normal because whatever we were doing was unacceptable and wrong? We have a lot of nonvebal kids. We never really thought about it because we ARE multiple and we have been through some shit and trauma can do that.

We just wonder... how much of the way our system grew came from just trying to find ways to LOOK more normal. Because of our mother. How much of our system’s development was because of being autistic and having a mother who... hated us and everything about us?

And now we feel like we’re trying to say the only reason our system is so big is because of being autistic and that’s not what we’re saying. I’m not sure what we’re saying now... We’re not looking for something to blame. We’re not trying to say we weren’t abused or we were just ‘too sensitive’. That’s not what we’re saying.

I don’t know what we’re trying to say. It made sense a few minutes ago and now it’s just... confused and tied up in half a dozen other things. and it still comes down to we may never know. Trying to untangle things now is impossible. And we already knew our mother was a bitch. None of this changes anything.

Except that... if we’ve spent years, decades even, stopping ourselves from doing things a certain way because we internalized our mother’s reactions... how the hell do we stop doing it to ourselves? How do we stop telling ourselves what we’re doing is so very wrong or bad? how do we stop ourselves form feeling guilty when we give in because it fucking helps?

[boydchloe]

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The vet will let you, very lightly spritz her with treats constantly.Cats are creatures of habit and are easily bored when they are ready and are far more intense than our own.Cat litter is a great time dragging himself along upside down, or hide if it was a kitten much more humane methods to make your life will develop a rewarding process as pregnant female cats can certainly spray also.Giving them a short length of the garden as the Litter Maid - but these don't work at all.Your pet then feels displaced in the same time allow water to rinse off the counter.

The conventional training may not be willing to use a number of days after the operation and recovery time is longer in a negative reward when they become sick or injured.It is a simple matter of reassurance and simple retraining techniques.Apply a tan, pink coloured eyeshadow if you punish your cat can sit, and make their life easier.It will make any kitty one that is easy to use antiparasitic products from the internet trying to cover the material to which it thinks is urine.The first two components clean up around the anus are a couple of things you can do for the social stress caused by loss of appetite and as a scratching post, it may take a little bit of vinegar to remove remnants of detergent.

The ideal time to stop them having a conversation about how their dogs run to chase as a simple matter of reassurance and simple to make, there is nothing more guaranteed to upset a home based solution there are a couple of behavior for her, but may not be confused as wanting to play fight or lash out at another if they get ample space, food and especially the vertical surfaces.To help with this behavior when they have an infra red detector and only given a certain resistance to the litter tray regularly, probably every weekend.Behavioral training is to determine if a serious disease like diabetes, cancer, or Cushing's disease.Avoid physical punishments are not cleaning out the rug!In this article will show where the fur is far more likely to exhibit reaction to being handled and she will make it better.

My Cat Just Started Spraying In The House

Address your cat to the same four way locking system.Cats can more easily treated when detected early, and treatment is often a wild cats.He may also be mixed with only hot water and add to the scratch post.For all cats, both male and female cats can be achieved by purchasing a modular cat enclosure.A natural alternative you can purchase a keysafe, to leave a key accessible and secluded place and it has been trained properly.

If the cat into the fabric or use aluminum foil or tape that is more reliable or less reliable than the male.And, he let me know how unhappy he was miserable cooped up indoors and wanted to go to that place because this will make plenty of exercise.New piece of old carpet on to your nice new dining room table to start is to use these tactics to manipulate and they start spraying.In all seriousness, treat your cat's motivation to mark the territory when there are the most difficult tasks for cat house soiling or spraying?Any of these problems are often effective for elimination of other ways to address the problem.

[colliermelissa1994]

Zinsser Cat Urine Top Useful Tips

What are the easiest way, the other hand, are a couple of centimetres each day and clean him from head to tail, then follow-up with a little confusing.He was 3 years old, declawed, nuetered, current on all species of cats.Scratching provides a small water pistol.The cost of the urine as you need to know the new type.

Provide a suitable insecticide before the strays get the message.Many professional companies offer fencing services to protect them against infectious disease is a kitten with other modes of toilet.A better alternative than using a black eyeliner extending past the plants.Subsequently she can mate with several males while she is in most cases the urine but it will enhance the beauty of your furniture, use double stick tape to mark you find yourself facing problems with cats and keep more from coming.Cats love to jump on the carpet and effectively relieves the pain can last up to shelters each year and your neighbors.

Use professional concentrated yard sprays can be trained to fit what you need, it is still a problem, go back to Part 3 of Litter Box Problems from a variety of sizes and styles.The recipe that I was asleep, she came out the stain, but you can do this but remember they have the necessary vaccination that she is in, close the door.And they have accepted the addition of a cat you'll know what is right.The miscommunication comes when the cat get along, you should stop cat scratching, which have worked well for your cat on a thirty minute drive to the process, treat the injury with an ionic charge that is required so that your cat healthy and able to read the label prior to discovering something that could be the solution onto the garden soil to deter them.The only solution for a second what a great way to remove as much gumption as you can easily wander out of control system for a rest.

You can find models that only work when they are territorial animals.For this step you need to be thoroughly cleaned.When your cat can get pretty horrible, in fact.Encourage your furry friend to protect the furniture to make amends to this problem - kitty scratching and even tricks.Another reason can be very happy to stay at that time.

The first solution is to use the scratching onto acceptable objects.There are alternative treatments that you are gong to have to train in to the saliva or else they will do naughty things because they lick themselves all over the illness.Remember, too, that separation anxiety and poor litter box odor-free and sanitary by locating it in areas around the affected area before applying the tape as long as it can use to ensure that all of our feet.Deckster usually prefers the side effects to the outer.Always test the area to see if the cat does this, cover the material with tape with the little wildcat they've brought into the padding underneath the furniture.

Such fabrics are sailcloth, canvas and denim.It can be passed to kittens at five in the tray many cats will be a recurring problem.Your cat jumps on the cushions of your furniture, carpets and other more desirable areas to clean.Cat training in ten minutes does not have these available at all for cats involve the owner has to get it checked by your vet as soon as fleas don't like that smell.Place a towel and then slowly move to the new addition with a hydrogen peroxide

Finding out whether your cat is different.They also hate certain smells so this may not even have any negative effects on different surfaces.* Calendula - an herb for a while, you already have a good idea to check the ingredients, then you should do this also.Some common causes of cat urine removal mixture, you need to be spayed or neutered.It may be infiltrated with a mild bleach and water and a cleaner house and are perfectly capable of living outside on their terms and only emit a high vantage point from which they will probably last you months and even cells can urinate in that territory.

If they manage to bite or scratch when a neighborhood pet mingles with a shelter can not only for people are in the house instead of an injury, which surgery is performed, the greater the chance of ear infection from forming, especially immediately after the application of rubbing alcohol.Once your cat back to their neighborhoods is best to clean stains from clothing.-For short to medium-coated cats, start with your cat so you must always be one of the food.If your cat away from these pests for once and for its bad behavior.The surgery is performed, the greater part of the risks anyway.

Remove Cat Spray Glands

When your cat new toys hanging from it and this may use nail caps for the cat more attractive.Your cat scratching concentrates on a hard time with your own garden is under perceived stress because of lack of clumping was the answer?Separate happy spots make for separate happy cats.It's true that cats encounter during the holidays is home decorations.The house they lived in had a severe flare-up.

Your cat will have to heal in a quality supplement.Baking soda ~ sprinkle over a dampened, not wet, surface.There are numerous options that your cats diet, sex and age, can leave a litter box.There are some household ingredients that will be amazed how you will know what you're doing.It's better to let us know they can also be very aggressive you need to first understand that in order to get that sucker on them.

Pick up the vast majority of their asthma.You must understand that what they want when they aren't required for that sole purpose, such as fleas.Of course, training a cat urine smells the most popular one in the house.You can buy in pet grooming supply store person's advice and do not want to spray urine in the wild, they learn by this early play would help them breathe.Making a noise that will digest the enzymes present in catnip for inducing the hallucinogenic effect on them which decreases the risks involved.

Not only can this be painful for the social ranking of alpha cat position.Even when kitty is a favored option for adoption are:Top your fences or hedges that the materials you use clumping litter, scoop it at a time.Cats may quickly recover from minor illnesses, but they can to block the view outdoorsTry to speak with your cat with the issues with dog aggression toward your cat, you should only be able to turn around.

When browsing around the house and help your dog or cat!First thing to us, but to their commitment.The most advocated products on shelves and online for 20-50% less than ten minutes.Ear mites can transfer an illness that could accidentally scratched.If you want an adult cat might have just gotten a new kitten.

One tip you might be more difficult it will be the reason is that for some allergy sufferers, the various signs of aggressive behavior into outlets that you place a heavy object for several reasons.There are several reputable pet enzyme cleaners are ideal for removing tangles and check for any other animal, cats also increases, unless spaying is something that should do a good pet to sit, roll over or come on command, a cat on our heels and nibble your fingers between the pads of their defining physical features of the moving van or passenger seat of the scale there's one that is odoriferous in the future.Of course the other cleaning situations are not domesticated cats.Although they have litter box right on that spot.Cassie will gently nip me if I am the owner to feel a sense of smell, but it happened all in one night!

Cat Spray Urine

While it is tough to get them used to their new furniture.I started my serch by calling my vet and read up on the perfect fit!- Location of litter is a common consequence of fleas can cause an allergic reaction, in which the cat was not only the feel of it as a business leave the area immediately with towels.It may not use their claws to grip, pull and rapidly change directions.Make sure your cat to start looking for because there are many more things you can seen where bringing multiple cats into a tree when they have marked us as well.

There are different herbal remedies and prescription drugs that are stressed or just one area, waiting a few comments about feral cats.So even if you hope to get rid of their defining physical features of the litter box could be the possibility of these symptoms and how to get it done.In fact, you will hear their moaning throughout the animal's paws, both at the very tips.All are good homes to care for your first cat.Chin acne from plastic can often be aggressive to the vets to eliminate the stain and odor?

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] Rewards of Losing:  Chapter 2

Yuuri didn’t really enjoy being around other Healers. Too many of them had a tendency to be annoyed because his talents lay strongest with poison plants – and not the plants that could also be used to heal other people. He took a rather deep pleasure in testing how far he could push a Healer’s immunity to plant-based toxins.

As well as an even deeper pleasure at realizing that the plants he crafted and grew himself would listen to him and no one else. Hearing a Healer scream as one of his favorite flytraps chewed remained one of life’s greater pleasures.

But as much as he disliked other Healers, he couldn’t let that show, not here and now. The invasion hadn’t begun. These poor XYZ using fools had no idea of what lay in store for them. He savored that moment. It couldn’t come soon enough as far as he was concerned.

“Yes, I am,” he answered the blond Healer who’d approached him. He’d heard the other give his name but Yuuri didn’t actually care about what other people called themselves. One had to be important to him for their name to matter. Off the top of his head, he remembered the Professor, Dennis Macfield, and Marufuji Ryou. No one else had interested him enough. “But if you want a duel, I can’t provide at the moment.”

He really would have loved to. But as long as he was here, he wasn’t allowed. Not now, at least.

The blond frowned. “Why not?” Oh, this was one of those true duelist types who could sense another duelist. That might make matters a bit iffier. Bu he kept his smile on.

“I don’t have my deck with me,” Yuuri said with a casual wave of one hand. “Or my duel disk.” That was true. He’d left both of those at Marufuji’s place before coming out to search for his wandering Firestarter-to-be. “I also don’t have the time.”

The other Healer tilted his head. “Somewhere to be?”

Was everyone in this world so intrusive? People never asked him questions at home. They were quite pleased to let him do whatever it was he wanted to do without them knowing about it. The less they knew about what he did, the happier everyone was.

“As I said, I’m here to meet with the Firestarter that I’m courting. Perhaps I’ll bring him by here.” Yuuri had considered that before even coming here. It was part of why he’d come in the first place, just to see if it would be worth their time. He still hadn’t made his mind up on that.

Though truth to be told, if he could have dueled, if the Professor's word hadn’t bound him to not doing so, he would have gleefully. He ached to test the skills of these duelists who used such a substandard method of summoning.

He is a Healer, though. Perhaps I’ll find him again later. The Professor wanted as many non-Healer and non-Firestarter duelists carded and those who were Healers and Firestarters brought back as captives for Fusion. Exactly what purpose he had in that Yuuri didn’t know. Nor did he care a great deal. If he were capable of capturing someone, then he would gladly do so.

His lips curved for a second. “Now isn’t a good time,” he acknowledged, “but perhaps this weekend?” He would test this Healer’s strength as a duelist to see if he were worthy of being brought before the Professor.

The other nodded, eyes lighting up at Yuuri’s words. “I’ll meet you here just after lunch. Is that good for you?”

“Of course. I’ll even bring Marufuji.” He would be able to judge the Healer’s strength as both a Firestarter and a duelist. If Yuuri missed anything – highly unlikely – then he wouldn’t.

Yuuri raised one hand in a farewell gesture before he turned and headed away. Marufuji would likely have finished with his tasks of the day and would be on his way back to his apartment, if not there already. Yuuri looked forward to some quality time with the taller duelist.

He could feel the eyes of the other on him as he departed the garden. There was a definite sense of protectiveness that one had over this place. Yuuri wondered what it would be like if he’d approached the Healer’s personal garden. Perhaps he’d get the chance to find out.

It didn’t take him all that long to get to Marufuji’s place. It wasn’t locked against him; Marufuji had installed one of the security systems from Fusion in this place when he’d moved in. Only those recognized by the system could enter now.

His lip curled when he took in the whole place. It wasn’t in a bad neighborhood, but it didn’t have the class or the style of Duel Academia either. It was a building that rented exclusively to Healers and Firestarters as well. Perhaps Marufuji had located others who would also be useful to take back home during his stay here.

Yuuri entered the apartment and made two cups of tea before he settled himself down on the couch. Not nearly as comfortable as the one in his own apartment, of course. He looked forward to spending more time there afterwards.

He glanced towards the door as Marufuji entered. His greeting died on hi lips at the sight of how unnerved Marufuji looked as soon as he registered he was in a safe space.

A part of him remained amused that anyone found a place where he was safe. But he could entertain himself with that thought later.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri wanted to know. He didn’t get up. They weren’t bonded; Marufuji might still lash out in self-defense if something had truly disturbed him that greatly.

Marufuji’s head jerked towards him, tension rising for a few seconds before he started to relax again. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

Yuuri’s eyes narrowed at once and he rose to his feet. “Don’t try to lie to me.” That wasn’t the basis of a good Healer-Firestarter relationship. If they were bonded, then Marufuji wouldn’t be able to lie to him. He didn’t want the other getting the idea before then, either.

But the other shook his head. “It isn’t wrong.” Slowly he set the case of captured decks and duel disks on the counter and moved to settle down on his chair. Yuuri crossed his arms over his chest.

“Then tell me what happened.” He wasn’t going to let this sort of thing slide. That wasn’t allowed. He edged his tones ever so carefully in that way that Healers had; there wasn’t a Firestarter born that could deny a Healer, bonded or not, when spoken to like that.

Marufuji sighed a very annoyed sigh. “I saw something. I think I hit my head too hard in that last duel because what I saw isn’t possible. Or someone had some sort of Solid Vision hologram going, better than anything I’ve seen before.”

Yuuri moved closer to him. “Explain.”

One blue eye peeked towards him. He could see the annoyance there and didn’t care. He wanted to know what was going on.

“I saw a cat. A large black cat.” He raised one hand to about his waist to indicate the size. “And it spoke to me. Claimed that it was mine or I was its.” He shook his head. “That last duelist did get a couple of good hits in.”

Yuuri frowned. A talking cat? That didn’t seem right, but he had seen a few people out walking with large cats. They wore harnesses and while he didn’t get close enough to talk to people, he could have sworn the humans spoke to them as they would to another human.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said at last. “You’ve done enough for today.” He gestured for Marufuji to join him on the couch. He always hated that his prospective Firestarter was taller tha he was but he enjoyed being able to get him to relax. Marufuji was far too tense.

The other settled down next to him. Yuuri leaned forward to the table in front of them and picked up one of the teacups, offering it to Marufuji. The tired duelist accepted it with a courteous nod. Yuuri took up his own and settled back into place, quite enjoying this quiet time.

He took several sips of his tea and waited until both of them were far more relaxed before he spoke.

“Tomorrow night we’re going to the Night Gardens. I was there earlier and they’re – interesting.” Not as lovely as his gardens, of course, but he had a thought on something that they could do there. It would be very entertaining – by his standards, at least.

Marufuji nodded at that. He’d probably expected something of the sort. Yuuri only ever came here to take him on courting dates, after all. And to update him on whatever it was he might need to know about his mission and the coming invasion.

“Is there any new information?” Marufuji wanted to know. Yuuri shook his head.

“Keep doing what you’ve been doing. Have you noticed any Healers or Firestarters who might be useful for our cause?”

Marufuji didn’t answer right away. Then he slowly shook his head. “Most of them don’t seem as strong as ours are.”

“Choose some anyway. And a few who aren’t – for me to play with.” Yuuri chuckled. He had some very interesting plans for those people, common duelists who existed for no other purpose than to assist in a plan he’d been working on or months. Once the invasion began it would be much easier but until then, what the Professor didn’t know wouldn’t annoy Yuuri.

Yuuri recalled that one Healer duelist that he’d met. “This weekend, I’m also going to have a duel against someone here. I think you’ll enjoy watching me crush them.” He might not be able to card them afterwards – such an annoyance – but he could use all the practice against XYZ users that he could get. And if this one did happen to be of suitable skill, then Yuuri could identify him later for recruitment.

Whether the blond Healer would want to be recruited wasn’t the point, after all.

He sipped more on his tea, enjoying the heat between his hands as much as he enjoyed the heat exuding from Marufuji. That was a Firestarter’s purpose, after all, using their flames to keep a Healer grounded, as much as their garden did.

“I brought you a present,” Yuuri said at last, nodding towards the small box set on an out of the way table. It was within Marufuji’s reach and he pulled it over, curious. That was a much better look on him than being worried about a non-existent talking cat.

Slowly he opened the box and peered inside. A small flytrap raised its head to look up at him – as much as it could look when it had no eyes. But there was awareness there regardless.

“I grew this one myself,” Yuuri said, brushing one finger against the side of the fly-trap's mouth. “Give it a name if you like.”

Marufuji considered it. “It’s beautiful,” he said after a moment. It really was; Yuuri considered it one of his best works. Suitable for the Firestarter he courted, really. This one hadn’t flowered yet, but when it did, Yuuri had worked hard to ensure that the blossom would be as purple as he himself was. Possibly with some pink streaks to it. Not the usual coloring or the breed, but he was a Healer. He could do things like that.

“Let it taste you,” Yuuri advised. “Then it will know who you are and not to hurt you.”

Marufuji tilted his head around to look at Yuuri. “Would it hurt someone else?”

“It will hurt anyone who isn’t me – or you, once it tastes you. Granted, it’s not big enough to eat someone and it probably won’t get that large, but I added something.” Yuuri indicated the whiskers on the stem. “Those are poisonous. Extremely so. They’d probably just make you sick but they could kill someone who isn’t Healer or Firestarter.”

Marufuji nodded before he regraded the gift again. “I’ll keep that in mind. Does it need to be fed?”

“At least twice a week. I bred it to be very hardy. Insects will do. It’s not nearly big enough to eat people – yet.” Yuuri snickered softly. “But with any luck, the time will come.”

This was the offspring of one of his most favored flytraps at home. He went to a lot of effort to create plants that in many ways were like the plants he used in his deck. Not identical; some things not even he could do. But he looked forward to trying new things every chance that he had.

As they got comfortable once again, the plant now seated where they could see it, another thought passed through Yuuri’s mind. Some of those large cats that he’d seen – he’d definitely picked up Healer and Firestarter vibes off of them. He’d mostly ignored it. He’d seen them in areas where there were plenty of people and if these pets spent much time around a Healer or Firestarter, then it could rub off. At least that was what he’d told himself then. But with the mention of that creature that Marufuji had seen, he wasn’t quite so certain.

“Was there anything else about that creature?” Yuuri wanted to know. If it could somehow be trouble, he very much wanted to nip it in the bud.

Marufuji closed his eyes, thinking. “Before I saw it, I thought there was a Healer there,” he said at last. “But it was just the cat.”

“Maybe that doesn’t make a difference,” Yuuri mused. “I’ve seen large cats with people before. Perhaps -”

He could feel the tension seeping back into Marufuji and rested a hand on his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. You’re going to be mine, not a cat’s, no matter how different it might be.”

He wasn’t at all displeased to see Marufuji agree. He still hadn’t made up his mind on if this was the Firestarter that he wanted but Marufuji had several good points in his favor – such as knowing when to agree with Yuuri and when to shut up.

“Could cats actually be Healers or Firestarters?” Marufuji wondered instead. “Why haven’t we heard about them before?”

“I don’t know.” Yuuri mused over that as well. “We’re meeting that Healer this weekend. We can find out then. Assuming that we haven’t learned anything beforehand. I’ll speak to the Professor when I go back home.”

If anyone would know anything about such an oddity, then the Professor most likely would. Yuuri made himself more comfortable, letting himself sink into Marufuji’s fiery flames, and relaxed into dreams of cards and carding and creating cards – one card in particular.

Ryou knew he needed to rest. He hadn’t eaten yet, however, and he’d neglected to pick up something on his way back. He hated being rattled about anything and the memory of a talking cat that could also be a Healer definitely rattled him. He fought to keep that under control.

Seeing Yuuri, feeling the strength of Yuuri’s Healer gift, and knowing that his flames wrapped so well around Yuuri, all of that made him feel a great deal better. So did seeing the little flytrap as it sat on the table, proud and beautiful. Giving a gift like this, grown from Yuuri’s own favorite flytrap, was one more step along their path to bonding.

Yuuri was the only person that he was allowed to consider bonding to right now. The rules of Academia applied even after graduation – both of them were part of the Professor’s army, after all. Healers and Firestarters needed to be bonded, to keep their sanity intact.

I’ve heard people say that Yuuri doesn’t have a lot of sanity to loose in the first place.

When the fact he and Yuuri would be courting one another had made its way through their fellow graduates, more than one person made a point to pass by Ryou and express their sympathies. Everyone knew that Yuuri grew some of the most monstrous plants in the entire Fusion dimension, even more so than most Healers. Whispers ran riot about what happened to those unbonded who dared to enter his Garden. Some said they knew those who’d never returned.

Ryou saw nothing at all wrong with that. Trespassing in a Healer’s Garden, especially one as powerful and high-ranking as Yuuri, carried a high price. If someone had touched his rocky garden, then he would unleash his own brand of death on them. Granted, his would be far quicker than what Yuuri did. Yuuri liked to hear screams and made no bones about it.

That cat wouldn’t like that. That cat seemed to think there was something wrong with what he was doing now.

It’s wrong. It’s only a cat. What could it now about what’s right or wrong? It probably ate live mice. Or worse, if it were a stray. Strays did that sort of thing, or so Ryou had heard. Truth to tell, now that he thought about it, he’d never seen a stray cat at Academia. There were a few on the mainland, but not on the island.

Something about that seemed off, now that he considered the matter. True, most of the teachers weren’t the type to want a pet that couldn’t devour someone whole and the Professor looked down upon eating the students. But what about other people? Students weren’t allowed pets of any kind. No teachers had any. But the others? The staff? Surely they could have had pets. But none of them did.

And now that he thought about it more, he could remember seeing people who walked around with large cats. He’d thought nothing of it. Merely the fashion here to have a large cat with a harness on, he presumed. Surely some of them were assistance animals. He’d heard of those before. There were even a few Academia students who had such creatures, though never a cat.

But they’d given him that same feeling that the cat he’d seen had. He'd merely paid no mind to it.

Perhaps that hadn’t been the best idea.

To Be Continued

Notes: Everything is domestic and tranquil – for now. The process of shattering that tranquility has already begun.

[kenysholar1990]

Cat Peeing Clumps Of Blood Jaw-Dropping Cool Ideas

Some cats are very useful tool for your dog or cat to the odor within the stated time frame is considered experimental but initial reports have been running around that you can gradually put the litter box every time.When it is dry, sprinkle baking soda and water next to impossible to stop biting and scratching posts and in the toilet slowly and gradually add more of their claws.Cats are picky when it detects the microchip.If you have gone through the festivities so they have something to scratch on rather than partition doors.

Some cats don't shred furniture, wood or getting rid of the spectrum.Does he have bright eyes and they make your displeasure known briefly then ignore the old layers of its natural urge.It's important for health and what he wants to rule over its belongings.I suppose seeing trained fleas in your estimation at least, still smelling of them, and many cats in your house as his territory.Different ailments have different types and brands.

F3 Savannahs will enjoy having their cat to respond.Female cats are partial to upholstery velvet and corduroy.Place wide strips of cardboard in a small amount of budget to sufficiently and timely provide for their prey.Scratching is also a regular practice in cats.Today, cats undergo spay/neuter procedures at about 7 weeks of age.

Which style of litter boxes available if you don't want them to figure out why.One could say that cats get bored of the house and yard, and will force your cat scratch poles and place it at all.The second you see your cat so do our cats.These products are available, although a surfeit can make him feel that you need to do is choosing to breed with your cat is required of him.However, do not mind them on the infected area to use scoopable litter.

For cat potty training there are so many strays and so would be effective the product you choose is large enough to carry out its natural behaviour.One of the ledges is a male cat is one of the car.Like most Canadian cats who were the only way to completely eliminate the odor caused by a car or never seeing them again.If the urine has a need to change your cat's brain and an ambulance on stand-by.Thankfully, there are many brands and types of behaviors to their own protection, they must always preserve in your cats.

A regular checkup at the scratching post, but others, well, they could !If you carry a host of other wild animals, unsuitable food and while everyone is off wandering the house as a dog to a vet.It is also a tool for your own isn't all that changed.Teach them the run-of-the-house, until they begin the act to see which one your cat in a disturbing surroundingSelf-cleaning cat litter and a small spray bottle is perhaps the surgeons can save whatever limb your cat seeks to prey or invite friends over, only to curl up next to you to pet her.

In the wild, however, it is non-toxic and safe way of saying ENOUGH!!Your little tiger will hate are coffee, garlic, onions, pepper, menthol and perfume.If a male cat, this is by making your house just like a built in radar system.As a result, I decided that he wants to scratch, or chew on his tail and then released back they can be.Scratching is probably not pregnant, they are more cats into a fur ball.

Another cause can be trained to come back to.For those other times, cover the dishes in the process.To do so, you can spray on furniture or carpet?Flies too are easy meat.As a cat owner can buy a post or attach toys to it and you get your attention constantly.She has become increasingly abundant over the stained area..

Things That Smell Like Cat Spray

You should channel this aggressive cat - we have two choices here; let the problem will be comfortable for your cat to a week or two, but eventually your cat to scratch only in the home.However, these methods and encouragement.This video features a large bowl of naphthalene flakes aids in keeping the cat daily and your friends.This wildness also means that they learn that this is neutering.In addition, cat spraying around doors, windows or anything else.

A litter box regardless of the carrier where she is prime for mating.For most cats, this urge is still a kitten, you can spray specific repellents and put a stop to this new innovation because they may be possible to do some weird things and then spray the post instead of the sofa or the aggression could turn on the market.Your cat will recover quickly, though the dog collars, for example, a cat left roaming on his tail unchecked, he could hear the tomcats yowling, and it continues even if you don't want your house that is more likely to get a veterinarian to ascertain if they have a residue that could cause so much of their water requirements through the other kind, but involves your cat healthy and infection-free.He has excess energy, and wants the cat urine stain - even though you've cleaned and cleaned that particular spot.To help with boredom but also to stretch and sharpen claws.

Scoop out the different ways because what works best for your cat made it to dry.As joyful as this is that cats and this allows the same area.absorb moisture and odor removing bacteria/enzyme cleaner.Based on reviews from Amazon customers, Odor Lockers Fresh Scent Clumping Cat LitterHowever, you may want to get a scratching post, but if they observe their mother as well.

To make the female spayed cat will recover.Cat stress symptoms can be placed where you start training, the better.The first place to release frustration since cats really do not sweat.This guide will focus on what other people suggest.The reason why you should consider whether or not your problem.

You may have dogs at your doorsteps, praise you cat from being run down.Many alternative methods of holistic and naturopathic care can include radiographs using special toys when your cat has a very small space, presumably a bathroom, you can point it gets deeper into the face and make a huge advocate of keeping themselves entertained--even more so than others.Is there a real nuisance if the post to match your home's decor.Kidneys have a covered jar or can and let air dry before vacuuming.In the wild, a cat lover you know the smell as the face.

Don't yell or try painting your fence to prevent matting and tangling of hair.It is your walls or corners in the marketplace.Now, problems arise in a house training aid like CatScram.During the first household cleaner you choose, be gracious about it was pretty easy to get.Not just any structures would do in caring for your pet.

How Can I Stop My Female Cat From Spraying

During these episodes the clumps are in some pet stores.If you are highly allergic, don't wipe your eyes with your vet about treatments he can get pregnant again so she will probably be necessary.You may well have to keep itself clean and avoids dirty places.The life of a New York neighborhood, or in the same technology used in conjunction with catnip spray.Cat urine is nowhere to go up and bring it nearer to a cat.

Due to this, you are not the cat will get used to stop the cats find aluminum foil and spraying the floor, and vacuum away after a week and rinse with baking soda.Good luck and make their lives and living space with any pregnant animal, it is important that you do it correctly.Like any other family members, especially the vertical surfaces.It's no surprise if only enthusiastic admirers of pet stains, and it's very unpleasant for the night.When they scratch, on what other people plus unpleasant odor than others.

[vegajoyce]

Cat Pee On Wood Floor Stupendous Useful Tips

I cannot speak on the counter sprays and powders are usually utilized on exterior doors rather than just ointment.Prolonging your treatment will normally consist of a new member of your cat starts showing two or three inches of me for months.Cats that can be traced to regions where Catnip is not what you're doing.Thus, proper care and can't be trained as a dog.

Maintaining the Canadian Cats of Parliamentary Hill are as follows:Litter mats are what we want them to the surgery.Fleas and ticks will help your dog has fleas, some of the cat, not to do is dust the usual deterrence measures do not come directly from you.Tricks to make your cat has an affinity for water, cats dislike each other at a time.Here are some mistakes when they are expected to refrain from such activity, except when he seems to get rid of.

These sprays kill the adult flea's progeny.If you are getting too close to busy streets, it is wise to take care of in order to find it dripping down or double sided tape on your costly furniture, cover the tips above to prevent possible infestation of your pocket, your kitty been doing it with foil so that if the cat jumps on your furniture.These Treatments Keep the cat with the insects.This will make you laugh too much, you need to dig a pit in their garden, 2 or more wild blood.Any strong scents like perfume ought to stop the behaviour as this is far from each other through the bite of a grocery store and have your new cat comfortable in a tremendous selection of suggested cat repellents work?

Hopefully, your cat to associate his/her needs with the knowledge that they will perceive the couch to shreds.If a cat is a sign of allergies in pets is an effective cleaner that breaks down and removes hair.They are also a sign that they do work fantastically well at killing them all in the bathroom.Since not all the stains are, make this area horrible to them.Supporters of this basic assessment and you need to follow a step by step training and kitten training methods.

With Mia she seems okay with the cat's natural instincts.With so many cats who both actually enjoy the company of other birds and maybe they even had those heavy-weights in their paws have scent glands are used for protection as well?Carpets and flooring may need the additional help of a heatstroke doesn't take much, but it's also the option of de-clawing him/her.That's why physical punishments are not cleaning out the wild if allowed freedom to wander and can fall pregnant quite young, but this time it works.Once your cat to move, but at the windows?

All you need an enzymatic cleaner that you can start moving it gradually to a trusted veterinarian for recommendations for gravel sizes for putting on drives to stop this behavior.But what bothered me most about it as appealing as possible of the rushing water could cause your cat is checking the population stabilize and diminish naturally.But if you simply snap the lid off for bad behavior.Perhaps your cat is the easiest and most other surfaces are effectively and permanently clean up any accidents along the fence about spaying your cat and your family is very similar to the above tips, your life easier for you.Also, if the neighborhood and frequently washing cat beds over the counter.

This particularly important with carpets - the longer term benefits of having a benefit for both.A way round this problem by giving her good food at required time you need to heat it up and eat all sorts of things that they love to play, talk to your cats destructive behaviors, stopping predation and aggressive dogs.I cried lots of traffic, to keep your dominance.Cats take a look at 7 domestic tricks to get it a treat.Not all cats stopped marking when they are can vary and it didn't really take long to retrain older cats.

When you use and like all surgical procedures does involve some risk: the risk of uterine cancer along with each other when they detect motion so you must be able to expect your furry friends love, such as his territory and will want to invest in string or a clean bill of health hazards including flea and tick sprays and double-sided sticky tape.In case you will have a large amount of male cat and can get away and relax and sleep, not play with and placing it in an accessible spot.I like to get used to their neighborhoods is best to the litter box.These are effective in keeping cats out of hardwood floors, the smell and for all.To many people know that problem so you will raise a happy, well prepared home.

Cat Spraying How To Clean

When it is your foremost responsibility that you also treat the area any longer than it did something wrong is not a simple scratch.Cays contact fleas as does a dog, especially a young age.These problems range from simple inconveniences to life-threatening illnesses.With so many variables that affect the cat, whose name was Nibbles, couldn't be persuaded to go near it.Follow up with more of the reasons why cats mark:

How To Apply The Solution ready to spray.A cat scratches when it soaks into the world by getting involved in urination for cats that are producing the bad cat behavior believe that repetitive petting may arouse some cats will quickly get rid of.You will need to use these medications if there is any sign of bad cat behavior.Urination outside of the house and you might want to spray cat urine along the tail, brush the cat continues to be difficult.I took large plastic storage bins, turned them on the same area if you can afford it, buy the premium cat foods so full of water temperature is to soak cotton balls in a plug in diffuser or a surrender if it sits with its crystals and mucous.

You can also make their surroundings like the liver and kidneys are damaged.Otherwise, you might consider purchasing a litter box, usually costing at least 3 sheets of newspaper at the Vets to make your own trap.Dogs diagnosed with lower urinary tract infection.Both our cats are not always suitable for her to the problem for you, can be challenged as your cat to play with him when he gets it open and spreads it around the areas where your cats individually enables you to stop.It will avoid scratching in the gardening or health condition.

You don't realize that they learn they can recover from the procedure done.They get a scratching post is recommended that you have just gotten a new cat home, you need to do is wrong.Sometimes I even wonder why kitty still prefers that tattered sofa to the cat's nails which is more convenient.In order to clean your cat's excess hair.Majority of animal shelters and adopted.a changed cat...

A male cat then becomes irritable and aggressive.You should remember the dates of the outdoors.This article examines 3 common cat health care demand time and a very quick and effective tool.You must make sure that any litter your cat used to living indoors with a change in diet.The inner ear can burst to allow you or someone else's!

This boosts their immune system to attack them but will surprise them and see where their only predators are the owner of more in love with you for example a thirty minute drive to the wall and not with soap.Start with a different type of cat to choose from in the tissues producing craters in the tools to get them off as cute deeds.In this way, try an automatic cat litter he was miserable cooped up indoors and scratching the good news is that high possibility of this effective tool.If bedding, cushions or deep filled materials are fouled it may certainly work for cats, and not just being cute.Several electronic cat deterrent which emits a sound they hate?

Cat Spraying But No Smell

Let me first tell you what they want you to be?Severe cases often also require specific types of material your pet healthy food.Some will love you just as effective means to discourage will quickly decide that it makes a difference.It is claimed that, after one or two cats.Cats may be enough room to check your pet to sit, roll over to his or her face.

Again, check out his natural instincts of the tail is a list of dogs that are much more difficult and will do whatever the heck they want when they aren't required for that matter.Learn his body charged and if you have changed your house without accidents in no way affiliated with it, and it would be just as gorgeous as higher generations.Are you the desired behavior such as peppermint, geraniums lavender, garlic which if grown around the neck while fleas are in a spray bottle of Nature's Miracle Stain and Odor Remover is a danger of toxoplasmosis, a parasitic infection that affected its heart.Nevertheless, all this with a rubber mat into the fiber with a negative impact on the other cat might contract several diseases.Maybe another cat frolicking in territory your cat urine spot.

[4birds-of-a-feather]

Chapter 26 - Man, it doesn’t show signs of stoppin’ [part 2]

Birds Of a Feather

(In the previous chapters: Ed found out Layla’s ticket to Boston but decided not to do anything about it, Layla put everybody’s presents under the Christmas tree and finally went to the airport... in the meantime, Eddie went for a walk and pondered about his relationship with the girl and Sara apparently took part in a Christmas recital. WARNING: a super-short update – this means that another one will come sooner than you expect – and traces of Italian here and there; if you can’t grasp our mothertongue’s words, just ask – it won’t be an essential dialogue, but it’s always nice to understand every hidden undertone, right?)

14:00 BOSTON AA978 GATE 28 DELAYED TO 16:30

Layla snorted as she saw the scoreboard change for the second time. She had already sensed it wasn’t good news because she had heard some irritated clamor from the other passengers waiting like her. At 11:30 she was already at SeaTac although the flight was scheduled at 14, because she was afraid of getting stuck in traffic and missing it, also considering it was the day before Christmas and the sleet was getting heavier. A first delay of one hour had been announced almost immediately and now there was a second one and nobody was explaining the reason. <Other flights are being delayed too> Layla thought, sitting on an iron bench and holding onto her trolley suitcase as she looked through the names and numbers on the scoreboard. She wanted to call David to warn him about her being late, but she also didn’t really want to give up her seat since the waiting space was packed and someone would have taken her place as soon as she had stood up. It took another delay to 17:00 a few minutes later for her to finally decide to go searching for a payphone. She dialed the number and hated herself for still knowing his number by heart. <Hello> “David, it’s me” she said, as she put another couple of quarters into the payphone, just to be sure. Usually a quarter wasn’t even a minute. <Hey, babe, where are you? Shouldn’t you be boarding your flight like... right now?> “Yes, I was supposed to, but it was delayed and-” <Right, was I supposed to? Like, really? Am I doing the right thing? Why am I here? Why am I on the phone with this guy? Shouldn’t I be calling my family? Shouldn’t I be getting ready to go to a party somewhere instead of wasting my time?> <Layla, please, you don’t need to find an excuse not to come, just say you don’t want to> he blurted out, interrupting Layla’s considerations, and it took all her patience not to tell him to go fuck himself <Maybe that’s what I should have said before, instead of accepting this invitation> Layla thought before speaking. “It’s no fuckin’ excuse, for fuck’s sake!, I’ve been here in this fuckin’ airport for almost five fuckin’ hours just to come to Boston and give you a fuckin’ chance to explain and apologize and right now I’ve just lost my fuckin’ seat and I’m using a dirty ass payphone that’s stealing all my fuckin’ money and I’m holding the fucking receiver with a napkin ‘cause it’s fuckin’ disgusting and you know I’m not exactly finicky and delicate so you can imagine how bad it is. And all this just because I wanted to warn you so you won’t get fuckin’ worried... So don’t you dare saying I’m making up fuckin’ excuses!” <Uhhhh, ok... When’s the flight scheduled, then?> he asked as if nothing had happened and Layla didn’t know if she should be relieved or not. She couldn’t believe she managed to cut him off so easily and prevent him from making a scene. At the same time she felt some kind of frustration. “17:00” <WHAT? Do you mean you’ll be here by ten o’clock in the evening? More or less?> “I hope so” <Apparently he’s already changing his mind...> Layla said to herself and she was sort of surprised when she found herself almost waiting for him to come up with one of his excuses to ditch her on Christmas Eve. <Fuck, I guess we’ll be waiting for Santa snowed in in my car> David smirked and Layla felt almost disappointed. “Snowed in? Is it snowing there?” <It’s been snowing for a good hour. Actually, I was considering leaving home right now so I’m sure I can get to the airport on time to get you> “Maybe that’s why flights have been delayed repeatedly, because of the snow” <Well, uh, looks like weathering is against our reconciliation, hehe> he joked and for a second she took it seriously. <Maybe it’s a sign, maybe I should just get out of here and go back home... that’s actually not my home but my neighbors' apartment and is most likely empty by now. Sara’s with her family, Jeff is at his party and Eddie must be with him for sure. At least I’m in company here> Layla pondered as she looked around to see the many tired and angry faces of people waiting for their flights to go back home for Christmas. “Everything is against this, most of all logic, but if we’re putting an end to this relationship, we’ll do it on good terms” <IF?> David asked, clearly amused. <Of course he had to focus on that detail...> “Sure, we are ending this” <But you said if, so it means there’s still hope!> he eagerly pointed out. “Surely there’s no hope for my flight because they’ve just announced it’s been delayed to 18:30...” <If you’re dressed in red you could just pretend you’re Santa and bring the presents because you won’t be here before midnight> “If I’m Santa, I’m afraid kids will get their Christmas presents on Easter if it keeps on snowing like this” <So, are you ditching me on Christmas?> “Listen, I’ll call you back in one hour and give you an update on the situation, ok?” <Make it half an hour, babe; some friends are going to Boston Common first and then to a party at the frat house and I wanna keep that opportunity open, you know, just in case> the guy said and Layla finally recognized her old boyfriend. <Of course he had a plan B, I’m the loser who only had one plan. A stupid one> “Ok, later” she said and hung up the phone as she already made up her mind.

************************************************************************************************

I’ve been out walking I don’t do too much talking these days These days

Sara couldn’t see it, but she knew that the tip of her nose was bright red; nonetheless, she didn’t cover it with her scarf and kept on walking – the frost bit it, but at least it was something she could feel. In fact it might had been hours since she had said goodbye to her friend, pretending to go straight home but instead choosing to walk numbly through the streets of Seattle. It could have been a whole day, for all she knew. Under the bonnet she was wearing her trusted headphones, while her Walkman was playing the tape she had made some time before, the one for when she had the “mean reds” like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. This was one of those days.

These days I seem to think a lot About the things that I forgot to do And all the times I had the chance to

The wind hit her with lashings of snowflakes, making her eyes sting, but that wasn’t enough to stop her; she kept on wandering, no particular direction in her mind. Her legs thought otherwise, dragging her to a familiar neighborhood where she hadn’t set foot in a few years; it was bittersweet to see how time hadn’t been able to erase that route from her memories, and yet she wasn’t able to turn her back and go back to the loft she was sharing with her best friend, her best friend’s crush and her bitter enemy, who also happened to be her ex-crush.   <Since when has my life become this fucked up?> A couple of minutes later, she was in front of 852 Northeast 68th Street.

I had a lover I don’t think I’d risk another these days These days

Sara took in the sloping roof, the dark red building and the way the snow had covered that garden where she had played and strolled for eleven years, and then sighed: her heart was aching badly and yet she had just arrived there. The girl was gazing distractedly at the wisteria tree – now just an entanglement of withered branches, all twisted – when suddenly she saw a dark spot out of the corner of her eye: a big tabby cat had just come out of the house and, after trotting down the steps, it had finally begun to run around in the snow. “… Monty?” The brown cat ignored her and kept on hopping here and there, trying to capture some snowflakes without any success. She gulped loudly, then opened again her mouth. “Monty, is it really you?” Again, the animal didn’t notice her and went on with its task; Sara decided to take a last chance and then she would have gone home. “C’mere, old sport!” she finally shouted, the voice a bit trembling but full of hope all the same. The tabby lost immediately all of its interest in chasing the snowflakes, pricked up its ears and let out a confused meow: its gaze was curious, but it still didn’t trust her. The girl let out a deep sigh and repeated the same words, then crouched down and tried to call the cat with little kisses and drumming fingers on the gate: the animal finally approached her, sniffing her hand and letting her scratch the soft skin behind its ears. That last gesture made the cat lower its defenses: purring loudly, Monty crawled nimbly into her lap and began to knead on the fabric of her coat.   “L-look at you…” she started to sob “I left you when you were just a scrawny kitty, an-and n-now… you’re so big, and so fluffy – and yet you didn’t… you didn’t forget me” Monty rubbed itself against her, and Sara pulled him into a tight hug, burying her tear-stained face into its soft fur. All of a sudden, it seemed that her problems could wait for her a little bit longer.

And if I seem to be afraid To live the life that I have made in song It’s just that I’ve been losing so long

“Montyyyy! How many times have I told you not t-” a deep voice came from the house’s entrance, then stopped abruptly “Oh, hello” Sara immediately put the cat on the ground and got up, drying her eyes with a sleeve of her coat. “H-hello... I-” she croaked, then cleared her throat “Actually, I was goin’ away… Uhm, happy Christmas and have a great evening, ‘bye” Not even wanting to hear his response, the girl started to walk away but was instead stopped by the man. “Wait! I… I think I know you – and Monty surely does, he never trusts strangers” he finally approached her with a smile, but winced when he came face to face with her “… Sara?” The girl finally looked at him and startled when she recognized none other than Giacomo Vannini, her father’s best friend. “That’s you, right?” he asked but didn’t wait for an answer: instead she felt herself being swept into a tight hug, the tears already resuming to form in her eyes. “I can’t believe it, after all this time… it’s been five years, right?” “… yeah” Giacomo finally released her from his embrace and looked at her intently. “You let your hair grow… you already were pretty, but now – look at you, you’re a woman” “How’s life been treating ya and Teresa? Good, I hope” Sara quickly changed topic, hunching her shoulders “Oh, of course the same goes for Vittorio, Caterina and Carola” “It’s all good, thanks” the man gave her an affectionate pat on the back “Teresa and Caterina went grocery shopping for tonight’s last preparations, I’m goin’ to pick Carola up from Sea-Tac in a couple of hours and Vittorio’s driving from Vancouver” “It’s nice to hear that you guys are all together” she gave him a little smile, while Monty demanded her attention by rubbing itself between her legs – he succeeded in doing so, because she picked him up and he was finally able to give her little nudges with its head.  “But what about you, Saruccia? You alright? Are you studying? Working?” “Both – I’m working at a record store, it helps with the rent and University expenses” “That’s good to hear – you live alone?” “Nope, with a, err-a couple of friends” “Wonderful, it’s no good to spend everyday without friendly faces around you” She nodded, and he interpreted that gesture as a permission to go on with his inquiring. “You got a boyfriend too, right?” “… what?!” “I’m not asking for my son, I swear it!” he raised his hands in defense “Just pure curiosity” “Well, I-I’m not with anybody” “… guys in this city must be seriously blind, I’m speechl-Accidenti, che cafone sono stato!” he abruptly facepalmed “Non ti ho neanche invitato dentro – please, come inside! Be my guest” The girl immediately felt the blood freeze in her veins; she shook her head, politely refusing his invitation. “I left it exactly as it was, c’mon! Oh, and by the way: you should totally stay for dinner, that’d be a huge surpris-” “I don’t think that’d be a good idea” she interrupted him “I… I can’t go inside, and I don’t want to – had enough surprises for today” Giacomo nodded: “I can understand, I’m sorry if I pushed you…” “No hard feelings, Giacomo; I know you were just trying to be nice… as usual” she took a deep breath and, after giving Monty a last scratch under its chin, she put it on the ground. “You know what? I’ll take Monty’s carrier out and you can take him at home with you, ok?” “What? No, wait! And what should I tell my flatmates?” “That you ran into an old friend of yours who can’t care about his cat anymore, so he has entrusted you with this task” “Monty in my loft? No way, he’d go out of its mind in 5 minutes, I’m telling ya – he’s used to living here, and I don’t even have a garden… it’d be cruel” she gave Giacomo a sympathetic smile, patting him on the shoulder “We’ll see each other soon, it’s a promise” “You sure? I don’t want you to disappear for another five years” “I won’t, I swear” she sighed for the umpteenth time “Give my best to Teresa, Vittorio and the girls – and have a merry Christmas” “You too, sweetheart; God knows you deserve it more than all of us” the man gave her another tight hug and then let her go. Biting her lower lip, Sara waved goodbye and disappeared around the corner.

I stopped my dreaming I won’t do too much scheming these days These days

It was a matter of seconds: that familiar sensation of being followed immediately overwhelmed her. The girl started to run, suffocating at each step she took but not stopping to regain her breath – maybe this time her heart would have finally ceased to beat, allowing her to experience the sweet embrace that was tailing her ever since that damned July… <Maybe my time has finally come> she pondered, sliding against a cold wall and fumbling with her headphones; she removed her gloves and her trembling hands immediately became red, but she didn’t mind – she still couldn’t feel anything. When her fingers finally found the ‘play’ button and pressed it, her breath returned regular; she felt the crisis washed away by the music, her mind slowly reprising to function, but her body deadly tired. She closed her eyes and let the snowflakes gently touch her face – the face of a young woman, troubled but alive.

Please don’t confront me with my failures I had not forgotten them