#like obviously i expect a certain... method will still let me play with the packs and i did stop actually buying them at a point. but like.

[sdmsims]

ts4 (and EVERY DLC I HAD BOUGHT) just removed themselves from my ea app library............................... hello

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ 29

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ Word Count: 5.5k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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✧✧✧ act four ➻ part four

​​​

Silence is like an old friend: always present and there for you even when everyone and everything else left you. You find comfort in the quiet, and as such, you normally wouldn’t find yourself so bothered by the absence of sound. Yet here you are, standing a few feet from Jongho’s bed in a room that is all too cold and all too quiet. Truly, there isn’t much to say, but that doesn’t keep you from wanting to speak up and offer some sort of weak attempt to get him to stay. Before you can, however, San beats you to it. You aren’t sure whether to be grateful or not because the lingering goodbye just hovers on your tongue now.

“Are you truly going to do this, Jongho?”

The Berserker hesitates where he stands near the bed, hands clasped around a small bundle of clothes. For a moment, you think he’s going to ignore San’s question and continue to pack in silence. Then, he offers a shrug.

“Hongjoong didn’t stop me, did he?” You shake your head with a certain fervor to your movements.

“There’s no way he wants you to leave,” you counter. Perhaps it is merely an attempt to cling to that hope, but the Hongjoong you saw in his quarters was a version of him you’ve never seen before. Jongho shifts to look at you, eyes a bit melancholy as he drags his gaze over your face.

“Obviously information is far more important than I am.” He says the words with a bit of a laugh to his tone, though all three of you know that there’s no humor to be found in this situation. Your lips fold into a delicate frown.

“Why is this even an issue? Is there a reason why Hongjoong is so adamant about bringing Mingi to the arena? Why can’t he just stay on the ship while the rest of us go on the mission?” You shake your head a bit as you ask the questions and drop your gaze to the floor. There is no reasonable explanation as to why Hongjoong would behave this way in your mind, no matter how many excuses you try to give in his defense.

“Because Vladimir plays dirty,” San says through a sigh. “He knows that Mingi is on this crew, and he’s been after Mingi for years. Offered countless deals and bargains for Mingi’s head, trying to get Hongjoong to give him up. Hongjoong has always turned down the offers without a second thought, but that doesn’t keep Vladimir from trying time and time again. He wants Mingi. And he is a man who is used to getting what he wants.”

“Do you think that what he’s after?” You inquire, blinking over to where San stands with arms folded neatly over his chest.

“If he has agreed to meet Hongjoong, then yeah. That means he, in the very least, has eyes on the ship. So if he sees every member of the crew leave the ship except for Mingi, his men will ambush and take Mingi by any means necessary. Even if someone stays behind with Mingi, the risk is still there. Thus… Hongjoong would rather risk Mingi having an episode in the arena or take the easy way out and wipe his brain.”

“But why?” It still doesn’t make sense to you, but at this rate, it’s seeming less and less likely that it will ever make sense. “That seems too pricy a cost for such a small risk, along with the assumption that Mingi can’t protect himself.”

“It isn’t about cost,” Jongho cuts in. “Nor is it a failure to believe in Mingi’s capabilities. It’s… deeper than that. Hongjoong always worries about something happening to Mingi when he isn’t there. He thinks it’s risky enough to send Mingi with San and me, but he can’t bring him to Vladimir. That would be the worst of all shitty ass ideas. Do I see the logic in bringing Mingi to the arena? Of course, I do. Having him be off to the side and in one of the wings – that would make it easier to keep him out of Vladimir’s sights. It would help him blend in with the crowd, hide from whatever guards Vladimir will have, more space to run if the need arises. You can’t do that on a ship with only a few exits. Hongjoong is thinking, and he’s thinking hard, yes, but at the same time, he’s being a complete dumbass.”

The steady thrum of silence follows Jongho’s explanation, and you can’t come up with anything to say in response. Neither can San, or so it seems, because he offers a nod but nothing other than that. Then, like a switch being flipped in his brain, he spins to face you with inquisitive eyes.

“You’re the only one here who has actually had the procedure done.” It isn’t spoken like a question, moreso a fact, but you find yourself responding as though it is one nonetheless.

“Yes? As far as I’m aware.”

“Well, that would also make you the only person who knows what it’s like to go through that even if the memories of it are hazy and foggy.” You press your lips tightly together, unable to look San in the eye any longer. The embarrassment of your earlier collapse and partial breakdown is still fresh, and as much as you don’t want to admit it, you also are struggling to get past the harsh memory. “Would you willingly subject another person to that?”

Ah, morality. An equally funny and tricky thing to handle in any situation. Now, it seems even more delicate and fragile, something you have to weigh ever so carefully to keep from saying the wrong thing. What is wrong when it comes to criminals though? Are there different rules to play by, a separate set of guidelines that all should follow to decide what’s best, or does one leave it to fate instead? Let the universe decide how morality should be weighed on the scales of justice?

You’ve never been one to listen to the universe, even when it stands in your path and screams for you to listen.

“Only if they want it,” you start in a whispered tone. “Never against their will obviously but… but if someone were to ask for it and agree to it, then yes.”

“So if Mingi truly wants it, then you would be okay with the method?” San’s question stops you in your tracks. Perhaps you have said the wrong thing or made a mistake in saying what you did — you are well aware of what San’s response would be, so maybe that is why he is so frustrated with yours. San would have you say that it is impermissible under any and all circumstances, even with clearly defined guidelines and consent. His morals make you question your own even though you know where he is coming from. To him, it is all a matter of relations. Having a relationship with a solid foundation means that it is perfectly alright to think that way. Yet using San’s moral guidelines, that would mean that the closer you get to someone, the more you take away from them. Their choice, their thought process, how they decide things, even their own moral standards. Can you truly permit that in good conscience? For once, your answer seems clear.

“Yes,” you relent after a few breaths of hesitation. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“Would you say the same if it were myself or Jongho? Or Seonghwa?” Again, you hesitate – this time longer than before, and you almost neglect to answer the question entirely. You muster up the courage at the last second, however, but you don’t think it’s the response San wants to hear still.

“Again, if it’s what you truly want, then why would it be fair for someone to stop you? Why take away that choice?”

“But Hongjoong is taking away Mingi’s choice now!” Jongho argues, stepping towards you with knitted brows. “He is abusing his power as Captain! He knows that Mingi would do absolutely anything that he told him to do. It’s not free will or a choice if someone only gives you one option.”

“And yet… it’s not all Hongjoong, is it?” San inquires through a delicate frown. “Yunho is the one who brought it up and made it an option in the first place.”

Jongho brings a hand to his hair, carding his fingers through the dark locks sitting atop his head. He drops his gaze to the floor too and refuses to look in San’s direction until he makes it back to where he was packing clothes.

“Yeah, I already ripped into him for that.”

“Do you know why he did it? It doesn’t make sense for Yunho of all people to bring it up. Out of everyone, he’s the one with the strongest moral compass, so why – no, how – how could he do something so immoral?”

“Morals are different for everyone.” Jongho huffs air through his nose and lets the sound fill the air without interruption for several moments. “What’s moral to one person could be wholly immoral to another. Look at how Mingi was raised, how he was taught that the way he thinks is right and that it’s the proper method of thought and morality. Others consider him to be an immoral monster with no concept of right and wrong, but in his own mind, that isn’t how it works. Yunho… Yunho genuinely believes that doing this is truly the only option. We’ve never seen eye to eye on Mingi’s condition, of course, but – or how to help, now that I think about it – but I know I can’t convince Yunho to change his mind. Hongjoong however? I can change his mind for certain.”

“What do y–” The door interrupts you, sliding open before you can complete the question, and you whip to face the source of the sound. San and Jongho move with you, eyes reaching the door before yours do. You almost expect to find Hongjoong standing there just based on the sigh that through Jongho’s lips, but you’re even more surprised to see that it is Seonghwa instead. He pauses midstride upon seeing you, no doubt expecting to find Jongho alone in the room. His mouth hangs slightly open as his eyes dart up to meet yours. The stare lingers too long, continuing to bore into you as he shifts his chin in Jongho’s direction.

“Lieutenant,” Jongho greets. His tone is cold and flat, almost like nothing is different about this situation. You know better than to believe that. Jongho’s next words only solidify that fact. “I suppose that’s the last time I’ll be calling you that.”

It’s like a knife in the chest yet somehow ten times worse. San’s expression visibly twists, and he turns away so that no one sees the extent of his pain.

“Don’t think so negatively, Jongho,” Seonghwa murmurs as he steps further into the room. “Hongjoong doesn’t want you to leave. Why would he ever want that?”

“Then why isn’t he here to tell me that himself?” Jongho snorts out a laugh following the harsh question. “Why is it that good Lieutenant Park always does the dirty work for him?”

“Come now, Jongho. Don’t get bitter now of all times.”

“Oh, fuck off! Let me be bitter! Mingi is the only fucking person on this ship who knows what it’s like to feel the way I feel and suffer the way I suffer. He’s the only person who I think can give me the redemption I need so desperately. He has always been my responsibility and mine alone. I know how to help him, I believe in him, and I put some damn faith in him getting better without any fucking procedures. I can be bitter all I want because Hongjoong is putting zero faith in Mingi.”

“I understand, Jongho.”

In the blink of an eye, Jongho has moved from the edge of the bed to the wall, the only thing between him and the metal being Seonghwa. His hand closes around Seonghwa’s throat while the other draws back as though he’s about to punch the lieutenant.

“You don’t understand shit!”

Seonghwa doesn’t dare to budge, but both you and San snap into action, rushing to grab Jongho and pull him off the other man. Before you have the chance to do anything, Seonghwa lifts his hand and makes a halting motion.

“You can hit me if it’ll make you feel better.”

Jongho’s fist wavers where it is, and he lowers it back down to his side after a moment without doing anything. His hand falls away from Seonghwa’s throat as well, letting the lieutenant breathe easily once more, and he steps away while heaving a deep sigh.

“You shouldn’t take everything for Hongjoong. If I’m gonna hit someone, it’ll be him.” Jongho waves a hand towards the door. “If all you came here to do was be a punching bag for Hongjoong, then you can go.”

“No, actually... that’s not why I came.” Seonghwa pushes himself off the wall, straightening the collar of his turtleneck as best he can. “I don’t want to use the serum, Jongho. I don’t want Mingi to go near the arena at all. Hongjoong and I -- we never came to an agreement about it after everyone left. He merely made the decision as the captain. I tried my best to change his mind, I truly did, but I couldn’t -- I-I don’t understand why I couldn’t.” Seonghwa’s gaze darts to the floor, looking over the patterns along the carpet before pulling back up to look Jongho in the eye. He stretches a hand out and clamps it over Jongho’s shoulder. The Berserker allows the touch, albeit begrudgingly. “I truly don’t want any harm to come to Mingi, but I can’t stop Hongjoong just by talking to him.”

Seonghwa glances past Jongho’s shoulder to stare San in the eye with such intensity to his gaze that you get a chill down your spine.

“The mission tomorrow cannot be successful under any circumstances.”

“Yes, you’re right.” San hums to himself for a moment, then looks off to the side. “The only way to stop Hongjoong from getting his way would be to fail to get the serum. What’s the plan then? We should destroy the serum if we find it, no?” San turns to you now, eyes expectant and waiting for some sort of input on your part, but you genuinely don’t know what he wants you to say.

Instead of saying anything, you shift your chin in the opposite direction and avoid his probing stare.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N?”

“Nothing,” you mutter back quickly.

No matter which way you look at the situation, you can only see it as taking away Mingi’s choice. No one is asking him what he wants, and while you understand the reasoning behind that, you cannot grasp how this is the just thing to do. Whether you give him the serum or not, he won’t have a say in the matter. Where is the line drawn? When it comes to morality, when is it okay to take away someone’s consent and leave them with nothing? Surely when it comes to protecting them, but both these options... both can defend him. What then?

No one presses you for answers, and you’re immensely grateful for that because it allows you to ask your next question with relative ease.

“How are we going to pull this off with Yeosang on the mission? Wouldn’t he tell Hongjoong?”

“Even Yeosang will see reason,” San argues. A sigh passes through Seonghwa’s slightly parted lips.

“I would take Yeosang’s place on the mission, but given my resistance to the plan... that would be suspicious. Hongjoong knows me far too well and would see through it in an instant. He picked Yeosang and San because they follow orders best and do what’s asked of them. And he picked Y/N because she’s the one with the most military experience. Yeosang has experience but… he was a prince, not a soldier. His specialty was out in the field, whereas yours was in teams, working in units, not being at the front of the line. That’s why you’re being put on the team, for that experience.”

“Experience that’s absolutely useless,” you snort, folding your arms over your chest. “I don’t remember what the serum looked like. And no offense, but I sure as hell don’t want to try to remember what it looked like either.”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Seonghwa shakes his head, barely sparing you a second glance in favor of looking at San. “In order to get the serum, you’ll be breaking into a military base.”

“Have you gone fucking mad?” San seethes, hands balling into tight fists at his sides. Seonghwa levels him with ease and sends such a heated glare his way that Jongho stands up a bit straighter.

“If you think even for a second that I did not try my damndest to get Hongjoong to change the plan, you would be horribly wrong,” Seonghwa hisses through gritted teeth. San shifts under the weight of his tone but doesn’t say anything in response. “The only reason I left Hongjoong’s quarters was to keep from knocking him out. If there was any other option, I would take it.”

Jongho clears his throat and effectively breaks the tension between the two men, shaking his head slightly as he steps closer to them.

“There is another option.” Jongho jerks his head towards you and San. He points a single finger in your direction, aimed right at your head, and you press your lips together tightly as confusion washes over you. “I’m leaving in the morning at the same time as you two and Yeosang are to leave for the mission. You will have comms on hand, obviously. Yeosang and San can sneak into the base, guided by you over comms, but you won’t have to set foot inside. And at least for your peace of mind and security, I can stay with you at a secure location while you guide them through the base.”

“That...” Seonghwa trails off and draws his lips together in a tight knot. “That might work, actually.”

“Wow, don’t sound so surprised.”

“No, I’m not surprised,” Seonghwa retorts through a scoff. “I’ll be in charge of listening over comms throughout the mission. If we can come up with a system – a sort of code word – to keep Hongjoong from catching on, we might be able to pull this off. I’ll be at the comms station on the bridge, so Hongjoong won’t hear anything except for what I say. Thus, I can’t very well say that it’s time to destroy the serum.”

“When I was – in my team in the military, we had a system for explosive and detonation squadrons,” you cut in, fingers snapping together in sudden realization. 

“I didn’t realize you were a part of an explosives team,” Seonghwa remarks. His brows draw together a bit as he speaks, and you can sense the question on his lips before he even asks it. 

“That’s the thing you’re most concerned about right now?” You don’t intend for the question to come out so aggressive, and the slight shock that passes over Seonghwa’s expression only serves to make you feel ten times worse about the slip of your tongue. “Anyway, there was always a worry of someone listening in on our comms, so it was a failsafe more than anything else, but we used ‘package’ as a keyword for a bomb. ‘Secure the package’ meant it was time to place the bomb, ‘package secured’ meant that the bomb was in place and ready to be detonated, and ‘come home’ was a go signal for detonation. A bit basic, yes, but useful nonetheless.”

“That should be a perfect plan, no?” San inquires, blinking over at where Seonghwa is standing. The lieutenant maintains his stare on you for quite some time; he almost seems lost in thought to a certain degree, and it takes San clearing his throat for Seonghwa to snap out of it.

“Yes, we’ll just need the package to be the serum rather than a bomb. Jongho—” he outstretches a hand to the Berserker, hesitating a few inches from his arm, “—does this mean that you’ll stay then?”

“Only if you manage to pull this off.”

“I’d like to think I know what I’m doing.” Seonghwa huffs out a light laugh and pulls his hand back to run it through his hair. “This isn’t the first time I’ve gone against Hongjoong’s wishes. Right now though, someone needs to go talk to Yeosang about this plan. Preferably one of you two.” Seonghwa angles two fingers towards you and San, and you glance over at the Spectre before saying anything yourself.

“Yeosang will never listen to me,” San cuts in with a sharp shake of his head. “And I’m not all too inclined to have a one on one conversation with him anyway.”

“Then I’ll go.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jongho mutters through a sigh. “I need to talk to Wooyoung about… this mess. I know he’s the most upset by it.”

“Right, that’ll be fine.” Seonghwa thumbs over his chin, seeming to drift off into thought once more. The wear is starting to show more clearly on his features; the way his blinking has slowed considerably and become a bit hard to keep up with. It’s more than evident that he is struggling to stay awake with each passing second, and that alone makes you wonder exactly how much he and Hongjoong have been up over this past week in preparation for this mission. “Y/N, inform Yeosang of the plan. If Wooyoung is there, it should be easier to convince him since Wooyoung will most certainly agree with the plan. Hopefully, this can be a smooth and painless mission for once, but nonetheless… good luck. I won’t be able to talk to any of you until we’re on comms tomorrow. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go talk to Yunho about what the hell is going through his head in all this mess.”

Seonghwa turns to the door and readies himself to leave, but Jongho doesn’t let him get far, hand darting out to catch hold of the lieutenant’s arm. 

“Keep… keep working on Hongjoong, would you?” Jongho’s request is spoken in a soft tone, and he barely glances up at Seonghwa as he speaks. Seonghwa smiles back at him even though the other man can’t see his expression.

“Of course. We’ll get this worked out as best we can.”

Jongho’s hand falls away from his arm, and Seonghwa takes the opportunity to step out of the room without saying anything else. The silence that drapes over the remaining three of you is not welcome, but you relish in it while you can, knowing that these next few days won’t be peaceful in the slightest. San lets it linger for a few seconds, fingers combing through his dark hair, then he releases a deep sigh.

“Good luck with Yeosang. You’ll need it. I’m gonna head down to the hangar bay to get weapons sorted for tomorrow.”

Jongho nods, and you follow suit quickly when San’s gaze travels over to where you’re standing. He smiles a bit, gaze unreadable as he moves out the door and leaves you and Jongho alone. There’s an opportunity now – you could ask Jongho if he’s truly alright now that it’s just the two of you, but your voice dies in the back of your throat before you can even think about what to say.

“Let’s go get this over with. I’m not looking forward to chatting with Wooyoung.”

“Why not?” You rush to ask the question before you can second-guess yourself, falling into step with Jongho as he leads the way out of the room.

“Outside of Yeosang, I’m the closest to him but… if there was a way to avoid this, then I would have done it. There’s always too much collateral damage when it comes to fights like these. Hurting him is the last thing I wanted to do.” Jongho pauses, lips stuttering and remaining parted for quite some time before he speaks again. “The worst part about being a Berserker isn’t the – the rage or the violent tendencies I feel. It’s t-the pain. When I hurt someone I care about, I feel that pain so strongly, and I – sometimes I wish I could be like Mingi instead, not have the ability to feel bad when that pain comes or not be able to understand it because understanding is worse. This just… it has to work out.”

“It will,” you murmur. Your eyes trace the edges of Jongho’s features – his knitted brows and downcast gaze – and you are in the midst of reaching out to grab his arm when he halts all of a sudden. You forgot how short the walk would be; you’re already standing outside Yeosang’s door, the metal nameplate on the wall reading his name in small letters. Jongho knocks hard at the door with the back of his hand.

“Yeosang, you in there?”

A high-pitched yelp resounds, followed by a hefty thud that sounds something like a body hitting the floor, then Wooyoung’s squealing tone apologizing, and you and Jongho exchange confused glances. Whatever hit the floor – most like Yeosang from the sounds of it – groans and pulls itself up before coming to the door and heaving a deep sigh. The metal panel slides open to reveal a disheveled Yeosang, hair a mess but overall collected. Wooyoung seems to be in a much more scrambled state with his shirt haphazard and untucked, eyes bloodshot – no doubt from crying – and lips a bit swollen and redder than usual. 

“Oh, yikes, did we interrupt something?” Jongho asks, taking a step away from the door.

“Oh, shut up!” Wooyoung huffs as he shoves his way past Yeosang to tackle Jongho with a tight hug. “You’re a dick,” he mumbles into Jongho’s shoulder, and the Berserker laughs at the snarky remark.

“You got me there, I’ll admit it.”

“Why are you here?” Yeosang cuts through the intimate moment to question you, eyes glaring holes into your skull as you linger outside the room. 

“I – We need to talk about the mission,” you explain. Yeosang arches a brow at you and continues to stare without making a sound, then he draws his arms up to fold over his chest. “It’s important, Yeosang.”

“Hm, must be for you to actually call me by name. Come in.” He waves you into the room, eyeing Wooyoung as the man continues to cling to Jongho for dear life. You step in and wait for the door to snap shut before beginning to speak again. 

“Tomorrow, you and San are going into the military alone. I’ll be with Jongho at a different location guiding you over comms. Seonghwa is going to be listening in and helping where he needs to, as well as keeping Hongjoong from figuring out what’s going on. We’ll ne–”

“And what exactly is going on?” Yeosang interjects. His gaze grows colder by the second, hitting you with such intensity that you feel a chill rush through your body. 

“Keeping Hongjoong from getting the serum,” you counter. You’re pushing as much assertiveness as you can into your tone, yet Yeosang still seems unfazed. “We have to keep him from wiping Mingi’s mind!”

“And why is that?”

“Why is that? Are you being fucking serious? Why the hell wouldn’t you be okay with this?” Your tone practically burns your throat as you hiss the words out. You dare to take a step in his direction, but that quickly turns out to be a horrid mistake. 

Yeosang sneers, upper lip curling upwards, then suddenly his fist connects with your stomach. You double over at the impact, and Wooyoung is calling out Yeosang’s name, but the blond is already hellbent on giving you a piece of his mind. Lithe fingers curl around the base of your neck and push you back until you slam against the wall. There’s a striking sense of familiarity to this position – one that takes you back to the dusty desert of Medra where Yeosang left you with a thinly veiled threat concerning your intentions on the ship and crew. 

“You are on thin fucking ice as it is, Y/N. I only maintain civilities with you for Wooyoung’s sake, but honestly, I would have no qualms ending your life where you stand now if not for him. You had best take into consideration that you are not one of us. You haven’t been on this crew nearly long enough to be making such demands, and you haven’t earned an ounce of respect from me. If I were you, I wouldn’t dare to test my patience any more than you already have.”

“Yeosang, stop!” 

Wooyoung pulls away from Jongho and starts to move towards where Yeosang has you pinned. The fingers around your throat tighten to a dangerous degree. Black fills the edges of your vision. 

“Yeosang.” Wooyoung slips through the small gap between you and Yeosang, hands sliding up to cup Yeosang’s cheeks. Yeosang doesn’t relent in his grip. He stares past Wooyoung’s head in favor of glaring at you and doesn’t budge an inch as Wooyoung tries to push him back. “Stop it. Let her go. She’s right about this, and you know it. Are you really okay with forcing Mingi into this? All the progress we’ve made over the years would go down the drain, and for what? Absolutely nothing. Do you really think this is right?”

Yeosang’s grip wavers against your throat, but he still refuses to budge. Wooyoung pushes his head, the grip on his jaw tightening as he forces Yeosang to look at him.

“Look at me, Yeo. Look at me, please.”

“I’m an Elitist, Wooyoung, not some easily swayed Normie with a moral compass. It is in my nature to choose the most logical option. Getting on Hongjoong’s bad side isn’t logical. That won’t protect you in the long run. Taking away the most dangerous part of Mingi, taking away his aggression and hypersensitive trigger happy nature – that protects you.” Wooyoung snorts, head turning to the side as he laughs at Yeosang’s logic.

“Then tell me, Yeo, was shooting the chains of a prisoner and pushing him into an airlock the logical decision?” Yeosang’s eyes flash with barely contained rage. “Or was it the right thing to do?” 

Wooyoung drops his hands away from Yeosang’s face and tugs at the bindings over his injured hand. Yeosang doesn’t seem to process what he’s doing fast enough, and neither do you or Jongho because next thing you know, Wooyoung has his sleeve pulled up and is ripping at the barely closed wound. By the time Yeosang snaps into action, hand wrenching off your throat to stretch towards Wooyoung’s arm, blood already drips down the length of his forearm. Wooyoung smacks Yeosang’s desperate hand away from him and steps out of his reach.

“You can protect me from all sorts of things in the universe, Yeo, but you can’t protect me from myself. The logical thing to do would be to keep me from hurting myself, not allowing it, locking me up in chains and a straight-jacket. Put me in a room with padded walls and no sharp object where I can’t hurt myself. But you can’t do the logical thing, can you?” Wooyoung curls his fingers into a fist and extends his index finger towards Yeosang’s chest. Blood drips to the floor with the motion, and when Wooyoung jabs his finger into Yeosang’s torso, the Elitist lurches as though punched. “There’s a difference between a logical thing and a good thing. It’s time to do the right thing. If not for Mingi, then for me. Because I’m asking you to.”

Yeosang blinks down at the finger pressed to his chest without saying anything for what feels like an eternity. When he next looks up, his expression has lost every ounce of hostility. He matches Wooyoung’s stare with a considerably gentler one, and something akin to pride shines in his dark eyes before he shifts to face you once more.

“I’m on board for now. At least until it’s not the right thing to do anymore.” 

✧✧✧ a/n: hi guys wow this was longer than i anticipated??? i didn’t mean for it to be so long whoopsie bUT!!! big chapter kinda a filler chapter i was gonna make it longer but i decided to save that for the next chapter, so this one is more of an intimate in depth look at things 👀 how do we feel!!!

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[lacewing707]

[Mind Blind] Trappers

Never have I thought I‘d write something that isn’t my first language (at least not this early), but I just love Mind Blind so much I have to do something to contribute to the fandom. Here’s a fanfiction about Nick and f!Button as a result. Dedicated to @mindblindbard for creating such an amazing game (And I would also like to apologize beforehand for the possible OOC.) Summary: a bit of Snickly, less bit of GrayxButton, and a whole bundle of Button’s monologue. Enjoy!

A small “click” echoes from across the room, taking over the quiet essence that previously engulfed the house. Someone is entering, and with only two people living in this place, it’s not hard to guess who it is by the door. My brother Nick, with a coat on his forearm and slightly disheveled hair, is trying too hard to loosen his tie, as if it would strangle him somehow should he fail. He seems to be in a more solemn mood than usual.

I cautiously edge over the sofa, taking a good look at his face. Dreadriness seems to drag down those poor brows on his forehead. When he notices my gaze, my brother slowly drags his eyes up to meet mine. One brief moment of tortured silence follows, then suddenly his shoulders loosen:

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

I grin, relieved to notice his confrontation sounds more of exasperation (or amusement dare I say) rather than of anger. His eyes crinkle with indulgence as a smile steadily plays on his lips. After all, Nick could never really be angry with me. I mean how could he, with his sweet, loving, adjective-adjective little sister, even if she kind of locked him in an empty room for hours, with no one but her best friend Sally, who happens to have a massive crush on him ever since elementary school.

Oops.

Now, before you all begin to judge, I just want to state that my intention is utterly and undoubtedly pure in heart. It was none other than a wedding vow under a Ferris wheel, with heaps of flowers blooming in the background like July fireworks. Sally is going to wear a lily-white dress, cascading down the curve of her body until it floods the ivory stone pavement. The color matches Nick’s ridiculously flashy suit, which...should not come as a surprise knowing how much of an extra he is; and when the pope finalizes the vow, standing aside a model bridesmaid as I am, I will be SCREAMING on top of my lungs “kiss already!” - or better yet, preparing to kiss alongside them, in the delightful scenario of a double wedding (in which the other spouse is definitely not decided by-the-by).

I admit, being stuck in a closed room is not the most creative way of starting a romance, very much beneath a creator such as myself. But you know what, Nick has always expected me to be innovative, so let’s surprise him with this epitome of cliché shall we? In fact, it can serve as a double trap, an unexpected tactic that could put the opponent off-guard and unprepared and, and…

Alright, screw it. After Rosy’s one hell of a training, I was exhausted, okay? Exhausted and, well... a bit lazy. Still, at this point, might as well just start throwing things aimlessly. I’m sick and tired of waiting for my best friend and my brother to be an item. For all I know, Sally’s feeling has been pretty clear, and I am sure there’s something from Nick’s side, but those doofuses just keep throwing at each other meaningless banter and even insisting on the weird, full-first-name basis. What was that all about?

The squeaky sound from one of the cupboards abruptly cuts through my train of thought. I raise my head, only to find Nick already standing beside the kitchen counter. Even though I did prank him a good deal, he still wants to make sure his sister has good nutrition for the night.

“How did you even get access to that room?” He wonders.

Well my dear brother, you obviously have not made aware of my very resourceful friend Glitch. It only took an avocado toast and some treats (vegan, of course!), made and packed by Nick with love. Never would have thought they could be used against him just like that.

Ouch, feeling a bit guilty here; but a double wedding is awaiting, and I just cannot ignore that call from the future. It is my (self-proclaimed) duty to make such vision a reality.

I may have developed some other questionable methods for Nick to come all the way down from the top floor, such as making Grayson unknowingly lead his best friend into a trap. Now, I’m sure I could get Gray involved in a more volitional manner, with just a few shed of crocodile tears, but as much as I love him (I mean, not literally, ahem!), the guy is a disastrous liar. No doubt Gray would be figured out in the blink of eyes.

I need not say a word, as Nick must have known all about my schemes from my open daisy field of a mind. For a brief moment, his brows creased into contemplation as an unreadable expression sets upon his features. It is one of those times where I wish I could just read his mind.

I would assume he’s questioning my ethicality, which is seriously weird coming from him, but I guess it’s different now that he’s the victim? Regardless, I approach the counter, a cheeky smile plastered on my lips.

“So how was the quality time with Sally? Anything...interesting?”

A faint blush flashes across his cheek, and I don’t need to be a Ment to know what’s going on. It’s no challenging feat to imagine that squishy feeling like marshmallows, blooming in his chest; that thumping sound of heart whenever that person’s image conjured in one’s mind; and that sweet-yet-bitterness when ones almost-but-not-quite touch...

I mentally clear my throat, now is not the time.

Nick seems to be resonating my mental throat clearing as well. Dishes clank as he’s trying so hard to form an intelligible answer.

“W-What do you mean interesting? Nothing’s interesting!” He swings around, almost colliding with the edge of the counter. “Let’s eat, Button!”

“Really, Nick?” I smirk.

It’s rare to see Nick like this, very rare. My brother always likes to pride himself on being the suavest of the suave, yet he’s acting like some hormonal teenage kid with a crush. I smile so hard, it’s a miracle that my cheeks are able to contain it. One toothless, dazzling grin as I try my best not to laugh my arse off in a villainous manner. Thousands of suppressed thoughts loom beneath my subconscious.

Then, they all explode.

“Muahahaha!!”

“So much for all those teasing her before eh?”

♪“Who said, who said “I don’t love her”?”♪

It felt immensely glorious. Waves after waves of thoughts come crashing down at once as my heart is bursting with sheer excitement. My head must have been a hell ground for Nick, which can only be worsened by his Pollard Score of 10. This means he can dissect my crumbling mess of thoughts very clearly, and no doubt that Nick can very well hear all my gloat, teasing, as well as a bunch of old songs to which I so horribly butcher the lyrics just to further torment him.

♪“And you’re never ever ever, gonna fool yourself now”♪

Nick’s face is so red, might as well make some marinara sauce. Immediately, he turns around and bolts to his bedroom, despite knowing how little it can help when my mind is already a full-on broadcaster. For the first time in my life, I am actually grateful for my sucker of mind blindness.

Makes the teasing a whole bundle of fun!

I barely hold my breath as I settle down on my diner seat, making a mental note to wrap Nick’s dish in case he’s done sulking in his room. Still giggling to myself, I muse, today has been a fun day.

**

Glitch stares at the neatly packed lunch box temptingly dangled in front of his eyes. An amused smile plastered on his lips.

“It seems that I’ve been attracting a lot of deals with the Wiseman lately, have I?” He chuckles. “What’s with you and all the locked rooms?”

Nick grins. False innocence imprints on his handsome features while he struggles to contain a devilish satisfaction. Button will be so pissed, knowing her own recent scheme actually inspires the trap that has yet to befall her. How he wishes to see her face when it all comes down.

He may or may not attempt this as payback, but one thing Nick is very certain of.

He is not the only person who wants the best friend - sibling scenario.

_____

I’ve just realized that K is the only one from the main cast who doesn’t make at least a cameo appearance. 😂 Oh well, I do have another idea specifically for them anyway (if I ever manage to write it down =)) ).

[themachiavellianpig]

“I’m Telling My Story”: Ainsley Whitly, The Prodigal Daughter

Throughout the first half of season one, we can see a great deal of how Martin Whitly’s actions affected his wife and son, both of whom are still actively struggling with the guilt of having been in some way intimate with such a man. Ainsley, in contrast, seems relatively unaffected by the situation and even describes herself as “lucky” in comparison to her brother- she is at least five years younger than Malcolm and seems to remember little of her father, giving her a significant emotional disconnection from his crimes. In direct contrast to her brother, she can hold down a steady job, engage in close relationships, and doesn’t appear to be in any kind of therapy. Unlike her mother, she isn’t even shown to be self-medicating in any way - she simply does not seem to need such coping methods. 

This relative stability is a gift, one for which Jessica explicitly gives herself credit: “Do you sleep at night? ...When you close your eyes, do you find peace? That peace is because of the choices I made. You can thank me any time you like.”  (1x03)

And it’s a gift which, arguably, Ainsley squanders over the course of the first half of season 1. 

“I don’t remember my dad. I was forbidden.” In the first ten episodes of Prodigal Son, we get to see some of the time immediately before and after Martin’s arrest, all from either Malcolm’s or Jessica’s point of view. We see nothing at all of Ainsley, except for a brief shot of her being held by her mother during Martin’s arrest. Given that Ainsley was only five years old at the time, this is admittedly unsurprising. Her memories of that time, so far as we know, are limited to Malcolm’s reassurances (“I was only five when Dad was arrested, I don’t really remember it. But I remember you. Telling me everything was going to be okay when you knew it wasn’t.”, 1x01). 

But she would certainly remember what happened afterwards, in the twenty years between Martin’s arrest and the first episode of Prodigal Son. We do not know exactly how Malcolm and Ainsley grew up following Martin’s arrest, but we can make certain deductions. 

Malcolm, as the person who discovered Martin’s true identity, as the one who was clearly and obviously traumatised by the discovery, would likely have been the focus of Jessica’s attention - in the same way that any child in crisis would be. Jessica’s active concern for Malcolm continues into the present day, clearly signposted in the first episode: Malcolm: “I assume you don’t break into Ainsley’s place like this.” Jessica: “God, no! She’s perfect. You’re my only concern.”

Additionally, we know that Martin Whitly, perfectly understandably, becomes something of a ghost in his former home. All reminders of him are packed away - there are no photos of him, his private study in the basement is walled up and forgotten, leading Malcolm to hide certain reminders of happier times in a shoebox under his bed. We don’t know exactly how Jessica navigates this particular transition from well-to-do nuclear family to tabloid fodder - how she told Ainsley the truth about her father or, quite frankly, if she ever did explicitly. Did Martin become something which simply was not spoken of in polite company, or indeed any company at all? 

Ainsley’s choice of words in 1x03 (“I was forbidden”) suggests a harsher line than simple silence, potentially indicating that questions about Martin were not only frowned upon but actively discouraged. Martin Whitly, loving father, was gone for good; the Surgeon was all that remained, and the Surgeon was not to be discussed. As early as 1x03, Ainsley even says that she has no idea what being back in contact with Martin will do to her brother’s mental health because she has no knowledge of who or what Martin Whitly really is. 

Just like Malcolm and Jessica, Ainsley seems to be struggling with having a connection to a monster. Regardless of the fact that she doesn’t remember having a familial relationship with Martin, he is her biological father - and if her mother and brother can’t give her the answers that she needs about him, she’s going to go straight to the source instead. 

“Martin Whitly is your biggest fan.” Ainsley’s decision to meet with Martin in episode four is prompted, I would argue, by a combination of curiosity and, let’s be fair, the sort of spite that springs up when a controlling parent tells you not to do something - after all, she only goes to visit Martin after both her mother and her brother have done the same thing, all while maintaining that nobody should ever go and speak to the Surgeon. But I find it very interesting that she only makes the decision to visit him after her mother lets slip a brand new piece of information: 

Ainsley: Thanks to both of you, he doesn’t even know I exist.  Jessica: He knows all about you. He watches you every day. He daughter, the ace reporter. Martin Whitly is your biggest fan. 

This information, it should be noted, is only news to Ainsley. We, the audience, see Martin watching one of Ainsley’s broadcasts in 1x02; in episode 1x03, he asks Malcolm to “Please tell your sister that her diction is impeccable!” and, in the same episode, he compliments Jessica on her excellent childrearing (“You did well, Jessica. I am so proud of him, and of Ainsley, and of you, for raising our beautiful children.”). 

And, from my perspective, this information is also profoundly creepy. A convicted serial killer obsessively watches all of a homicide journalist’s broadcasts? That’s a two-parter of Criminal Minds right there. 

But to Ainsley it’s a link, a connection, to a part of her life which she has never really been allowed to engage with. The trauma of Martin Whitly is written large on her mother and brother, but her trauma is second-hand and reactionary, which is admittedly a great improvement on the alternative, but would Ainsley see it that way? All children want to do is feel like they belong, and being the one left out - even the one left out of trauma - is never pleasant. 

Now, through an offhand comment from her mother, Ainsley knows that her father is interested in her, and in her work - in direct contrast to her mother, who supports her work idly, never really watching her reports (“Not with the sound on!”, 1x01), who finally starts to tell her something real about her father and his opinion of her and then immediately tries to shut the conversation down (“Can we please talk about something else?”, 1x04).

And so Ainsley heads off to see her father for the first time in twenty years. 

“You made him out to be just a monster.” We, the audience, had a full two weeks to wait between seeing Ainsley in Martin’s cell and hearing anything of the conversation that they shared, which was genuinely one of the most infuriating cliff-hangers I’ve seen for a while. 

The meeting with Martin undoubtedly rattles Ainsley, albeit not in the way she expected. As Jessica points out, Ainsley went to that cell to meet a monster, and instead found a seemingly loving father (1x06). A man who regretted his absences in his daughter’s life and had filled the gaps with daydreams of “birthdays, piano recitals, dancing with [her] at the debutante ball” (1x06), daydreams in which, judging by the fantasies shared with Ainsley, he plays the starring role of Devoted Father. This conversation could have been repeated between any father-daughter duo separated in television plotlines around the world - the cause of that separation is so overlooked by Martin’s little fantasy to be actually hilarious. 

And, by this point in the series, we’ve seen both Malcolm and Jessica be taken in by Martin’s acts, not to mention all the people that Martin had fooled during his days as an active serial killer, so it’s hardly surprising that Ainsley is at least a little taken in as well. The split between Martin-the-father and Martin-the-serial-killer is also one that has preoccupied Jessica and Malcolm throughout the twenty-years and it’s one that Ainsley, through her lack of memories about Martin, has been spared up until the moment she comes face to face with him, and asks him the “most important question”: ” “Was it real? … Did you love us or was it just some psychopathic act?”

The surviving members of the Whitly family may never really know the answer to that question - and it’s a question which has no easy answers. Which would truly be worse - being an unwilling cover story for a monster, or genuinely being loved by a monster? 

But, for Ainsley, the question is no longer about what her relationship with Martin was; it’s about what it could be - or, more precisely, about what it could do for her.   

“Ambition is not a dirty word.”  The decision to interview Martin is one which, full disclosure, makes perfect sense from a professional point of view; an interview with a notorious serial killer, particularly one who had never spoken publicly about his crimes before, would be a feather in the cap of any crime journalist. She is also arguably the best choice to conduct such an interview from a creepy mercenary perspective - her familial relationship to the Surgeon gives the interview a sensationalist angle which would be impossible for any other network to easily duplicate - and, unlike the rest of her family, Ainsley has not yet been traumatised by Martin Whitly. 

Of course, it's the ‘yet' in that last sentence that has Jessica and Malcolm so worried about Ainsley - her visiting Martin might be less immediately damaging that Malcolm or Jessica coming face to face with their own personal demon, but it's still very unlikely to be healthy. 

Interestingly, Malcolm's concerns about the interview seem to be extremely focused on Ainsley's immediate personal safety ("You’re putting yourself in his cross hairs"), and his reaction on learning that she's already seen Martin is to ask if she is okay. Jessica, as the only member of the family who really remembers the immediate media aftermath of Martin's arrest, becomes far more focused on the potential PR concerns: 

Jessica: Ainsley, if you do not have a plan to make him look bad, he will look good. Tell me you understand. Ainsley: Mother, these are the questions I sent. Not the questions I’m going to ask.  Jessica: Alright. I see what you’re doing.  Ainsley: Good. Can you stop worrying?  Jessica: I am far more worried now.  Ainsley: What? Why?  Jessica: Thinking you are more clever than Martin Whitley, that’s the worst mistake you can make. He’ll exploit that. He’ll find a way to come off sympathetic and you will be sitting there like-  Ainsley: Like what?  Jessica: His accomplice. 

Jessica, as we learn later in the season, was herself questioned by the police about her role in Martin's crimes, and I am sure that the media speculation around the Wife of the Surgeon would have been horrific and heartbreaking. She clearly does not want Ainsley to put herself through the same thing - and she certainly does not want Martin to have any opportunity to manipulate the wider population, as he has so easily manipulated his own family in the past. 

This is not to say that Jessica has no concern for Ainsley's safety - her immediate reaction to the potential interview is to get the entire thing blacklisted by the network itself. It's only when Ainsley reveals a willingness to outplay her mother at that particular chess game that she relents - not to give her blessing, but to step back and allow Ainsley the dignity of her own choices. 

And, potentially, Ainsley does take some of her mother's fears seriously - she insists on keeping Martin in his restraints during the interview, despite technical concerns from Jin the Cameraman, and she makes sure that the red safety line on the cell floor is in shot. She even refuses Hair and Makeup the chance to make Martin look anymore physically presentable before the interview begins.  

The interview itself, however, does not go exactly as Ainsley had clearly wanted it to - first, Martin neatly sidesteps her attempts to throw past crimes in his face, then her brother interrupts with police business, then her cameraman gets stabbed. All in all, hardly a good day at the office.

The interplay between Martin and Ainsley hashes out the timeless question of what really makes a person - Ainsley focuses on the lives her took, complete with grisly details ("Billy Franklin, age 23. Aced his LSATs, wanted to become a civil rights lawyer. You removed his heart to see how long he could live without it. He died a gruesome, agonising death. My question is why?", 1x07), Martin fights backs with the lives he saved ("How about Corey Goldstein, age 10? A brutal car accident left him with a surely fatal aortic rupture. Until he landed in my OR, where I saved his life.") and the medical procedures he developed ("Did you know they named a medical procedure after me? ...I’ve heard a rumour that doctors still call it the Whitley, in hospitals all around the world", 1x07). 

It's a far more complicated portrayal of evil that Ainsley had prepared for - she has no good response prepared for the accusation that Martin did some good in the world, unlike her pithy retorts about particular victims and what Martin did to them. We don't get the chance to see if Ainsley would have been able to retake control of the interview, given Malcolm's interruption, as his arrival gives Ainsley a very different line of attack - the only line of attack, it must be said, that ever seems to really rattle Martin. Ainsley is the only character in the first part of season 1 to really get under Martin's skin - but she can only do it by using her own brother as bait: 

Ainsley: So. I mentioned a number of your victims earlier, but I’d like to discuss one more. Malcolm. Malcolm Whitly.  Martin: I’m not sure I understand Ainsley: You claim to care about your son, but what you did twenty years ago harmed him irreparably.  Martin: Well, that’s not true.  Ainsley: Isn’t it? He’s been diagnosed with complex PTSD, generalised anxiety disorder, night terrors. Dr Whitley, do you know what happens to the human body when it withstands that much stress for that long a period of time?  Martin: I’m not sure that’s relevant-  Ainsley: He was fired from the only job he was ever good at. He hasn’t been in a stable relationship for years. And the ten years he went without seeing you were by far the happiest, healthiest of his life.  Martin: Well, that’s absolutely not- Ainsley: What does that say about you, except for you’re an absolutely terrible father?  Martin: I’m not.  Ainsley: He just wanted to love you. And you caused him so much pain.  Martin: Stop it.  Ainsley: What kind of a father does that?  Martin: Stop it! I was a good father, damn it! 

This interaction goes on to form a crucial part of the interview - Martin's loss of control is featured in the introduction to the actual broadcast (as seen in 1x10) - and it was not at all discussed with Malcolm beforehand. We, the audience, are not entirely clear on how much information Martin had about his son's condition prior to Ainsley’s disclosure- he would have known some things, noticed symptoms such as the hand tremor, but that is still potentially miles away from Malcolm's having his mental health history spelt out like that in front of Martin and, potentially, in front of everyone who watched Ainsley's interview. 

It's a successful and potentially satisfying manipulation of Martin, to be sure, but it's also a heart-wrenching violation of Malcolm, and Ainsley never seems to notice. 

In a matter of hours, Ainsley double-downs on the notion of violating the privacy of others when she films Martin perform surgery on Jin the Cameraman, stabbed in the patient-uprising which Martin himself engineered. We never get to see Malcolm's reaction to his violation - he doesn't seem to challenge Ainsley on it directly in any way - but Jin does (1x08). Jin, when he wakes in the hospital to find that Ainsley filmed the surgery and didn't tell him about it, has a very simple and understandably reaction. 

Jin: What is this? You filmed my surgery? Ainsley: I was going to tell you. I just- I- I- I got so caught up in the adrenaline and it was so compelling- Jin: Oh, was it? Was it compelling when I almost died?  Ainsley: We went there to get a great story and we got one. I was doing my job!  Jin: I understand. This is who you are. I just don’t think that’s the kind of person that I want to be with. 

And Ainsley doesn’t try to apologise to her boyfriend, or try to explain herself any further - she leaves Jin in the hospital, taking the interview footage with her instead. 

“I’m telling my story!” The interview, despite the various dramas around it all, is eventually broadcast. Thanks to Jessica’s well-thrown shoe (seriously), we never get to see the interview in its entirety (which is a great shame, seeing as we only see Ainsley get a few minutes of usable footage in 1x07), but we do get to see the introduction: “Dr Martin Whitley murdered 23 people as the Surgeon, making him one of the world’s most deadly serial killers. I’m Ainsley Whitley for American Direct News and the Surgeon is my father.” 

The clips that we see include Martin's lose of control at being called a terrible father, which strongly implies that at least some of the section concerning Malcolm was kept in; we have no idea if the footage of Jin was used, although I'm assuming that he would have had to give permission for his own surgery to be shown on national television and, given his reaction in the hospital to the footage, I'm equally comfortable assuming that he would not have given such permission. 

While Malcolm tries to watch the interview, possibly to support his sister, possibly to torture himself futher, Jessica is adament that she will not. Her initial plan seems to have been to pretend that it never happened; she only speaks to Ainsley about it when Ainsley pushes past her joking “no comment” to challenge Jessica on her perceived lack of support for her daughter's professional accomplishment. 

This pushes Jessica to have perhaps the most genuine and honest conversation with her daughter about Martin and their past which they had ever had (1x10):  Jessica: Your father destroyed us. Your brother and me. You put him on television and let him talk about it. You have gone and soaked yourself in blood. The press devoured us twenty years ago, and now they are at it again.

This information is given calmly, perhaps even dispassionately: for Jessica, the destruction of herself and her son is a simple matter of fact. Not to be spoken of, of course, but ever-present and utterly undeniable. She does not even become angry until Ainsley accuses her of "playing the victim": "I am not a victim! But there are victims. Real ones. How do you think those twenty-three families feel when they see you on television? And why is the story never about them?"

The story is not about them, of course, because for Ainsley, the story is currently about her. Ainsley's newfound 'ownership' over the Surgeon story is clearly spelled out in the interview's introduction ("the Surgeon is my father"), her reaction to the paparazzi outside her mother's home ("Any breaking news about my family is mine to report") and, finally, in her retort to Jessica's challenges over the entire interview: "I'm telling my story!"

But, as we've discussed earlier, Ainsley doesn't actually have a story with the Surgeon. In the real-crime biography of Martin Whitley, she's a footnote at best. Jessica, who married a monster, Malcolm, who unveiled a monster, the twenty-three or more people who died at the Surgeon's hands, the hundreds of people, including Jin, who had their lives saved by the Surgeon, they all have a story with the Surgeon. Ainsley simply does not. And in her attempts to create one during the first half of season 1, she only really gets anywhere when she uses the stories of others - her casual retelling of the horrific things the victims went through, her reveal of Malcolm's mental health diagnoses, her filming Jin's surgery.

Ainsley’s lack of personal connection to the Surgeon was her greatest asset in a very broken family at the beginning of the series; her attempt to create such a narrative when none organically existed has been the cause of pain for plenty of people other than herself. 

All that remains to be seen is how this narrative - either genuine or manufactured - continues to develop in the second half of season 1. 

[recentanimenews]

FEATURE: The Best Naruto Shippuden Fight Doesn't Include Naruto

  This article written by Jared Clemons was originally published on May 22, 2020

  If you’ve ended up watching enough Naruto, you’ll begin to pick up on the overall style of the show. The way the characters look, how they animate, the specific colors used throughout the series, there’s a certain way that Naruto and Naruto Shippuden look through their combined first 300 episodes. On rare occasions, that style switches to help showcase a big fight, such as early on against Zabuza and Haku, Rock Lee vs. Gaara, and in Shippuden when the Leaf takes on Hidan and Kakuzu, Sasuke vs. Deidara, and others further in the series. This fluid animation style alters how the characters look and move, while also using more of a muted color scheme. Most notably, this is usually thanks in part to episodes that Hirofumi Suzuki worked on as the animation director.

  One episode that Suzuki worked on that sticks out by subverting the regular formula of Naruto is Episode 82 of Shippuden, "Team Ten." It’s not an episode that features any big fights, nor are there really any big conflicts between characters here. Instead, we see the inner turmoil that Shikamaru is facing following the death of Asuma. He’s skipping out on his funeral and just seems lost after the previous mission went horribly wrong. So, instead of creating another episode of Shippuden that is the same formula as everything else, Suzuki and the rest of the production staff decided to go in a different direction — one that is more likely to be seen on the big screen, rather than in television.

    Given the highly emotional aspects of where the story is, the episode does a lot to make you feel uncomfortable — to get you into the same headspace as Shikamaru — and at times almost makes the viewer seem like a voyeur. We’re essentially going through the same process as Shikamaru as we see him tell Kurenai about Asuma’s death, relay that to people in town, figure out his own emotions about what happened, and then come back from the brink and find a way to stand tall again.

  In order to truly get into Shikamaru’s mindset for this episode, the pacing slows to a halt. Everything is laborious and with a certain purpose to it. This is the kind of pacing and style you’d most likely see from a Naruto film or a more serious drama series rather than what you’d expect from a shonen series. It would be hard to pull off what this episode wants to force the viewer to witness if it was the same package that every other episode of Naruto Shippuden is. In order to pull viewers in and let them immediately know that something is wrong, you’ve got to disrupt their normalcy and their perception of what the series is.

    Throughout the episode, if you’re watching for the first time or just trying to pay attention to figure out what’s different, you’ll notice a few things. Most notable to me was the lack of camera movement. Shonen series and anything with action will rely on camera movement to make episodes have a fast pace to them. Instead, here we get only four shots that feature any sort of movement. Each one is incredibly slight as well. They’re not quick but are slow and subtle to where you can easily miss them. In fact, the first bit of camera movement doesn’t occur until nearly halfway through the episode, which seems striking for this series. Instead, we get a lot of cuts and shots that linger long enough that it begins to feel uncomfortable.

  One of the more striking shots in this episode is when Shikamaru and his father, Shikaku, play shogi together. There are cuts between the two as they begin to play, but then the camera goes to a side angle of the two playing and going back and forth with their moves. You’d think that eventually there would be cuts to each character as they place their moves and with Shikaku trying to tell Shikamaru why he shouldn’t beat himself up over what happened. Instead, the shot lingers. For two whole minutes. That’s not something that occurs in most series that are relegated to 24 minutes of air time. After all, camera cuts help keep the pace up and give viewers something new to look at. Yet, it fits the overall tone and style of this episode. You start to see Shikamaru’s emotions begin to get the better of him from this shot alone, and it’s able to tell that story in a better way than it would have if it was just the camera cutting between Shikamaru and Shikaku.

    That scene, and those two minutes spent looking at their shogi game, leads up to Shikamaru finally being able to break down. This brings up another strange aspect of this episode: This scene is the first time we hear any music in the episode and again, we’re nearly halfway through. Before, you’d hear a lot of natural sounds such as insects humming or the chatter of people in the streets as Shikamaru wanders through the town. Even with the addition of music for this brief instant, it’s again subtle and not overpowering. It’s another aspect of something that you could easily gloss over as it comes and goes very quickly. That might seem as if it doesn’t really fit the emotional nature of this scene given that Shikamaru begins to cry and wail in this room they were playing in, but it absolutely fits because the music is just giving the viewer the slight push to tell them this is emotional. That doesn’t need to overpower the scene when you’ve got a character letting out deep emotional pain at the same time.

  Perhaps this is why Suzuki and the rest of the production staff were tapped for this episode. Their style of animation that has worked so well for some of the biggest fights in the series works its magic for truly showing the emotional pain a character is going through. You’re able to see the pain and trauma rise up through Shikamaru’s face and then break through the levy as he’s finally able to let out all of his emotions and cry. His face distorts in realistic ways that wouldn’t have been the same if it was in the traditional animation or style. It’s the same kind of realistic expression that you would also have if you were in his situation, which of course is what the episode is trying to make you do. Become emotional and cry alongside Shikamaru.

    One of the biggest takeaways I had from this episode is how much Suzuki and the team’s style reminded me of Naoko Yamada’s way of directing. Yamada’s work on K-ON and specifically Liz and the Blue Bird are very similar to what we see in this episode. There’s a lot of lingering shots, little camera movement, and relying more on cuts to showcase what’s happening — and a soundtrack that isn’t overemphasizing what’s happening. You truly get to see what these characters go through, which is an aspect of directing that Yamada accentuates as she’s said she likes to “watch people” and “get into the minds of the characters.” Those are definitely part of what makes this episode of Naruto Shippuden work so well. You’re truly able to dive into Shikamaru and see what he’s going through, how he’s able to figure out what to do next, and then act upon it.

  The rest of the episode sees how Shikamaru is able to find an answer that gives him the drive to go out and finish the original mission and avenge Asuma. The pacing is still slow and methodical, but by the time we reach the end and Team Ten announces their plans to head out on their next mission while Tsunade tries to stop them, we begin to move back into the regular style of Shippuden as the music begins to take hold in a way you’d normally expect. In a way, this episode is able to pump the brakes on the whole pacing of the show, but then softly begins to accelerate by the end that lets you ease back into what you’d expect from the series.

    There’s truly no way you could do this kind of episode for a series as big as Naruto every week. Obviously, it’d take too long to maintain this kind of quality for 500 episodes, so you’d have an episode a month at best, but also the charm of these subversions to the series would wear off rather quickly. Instead, you’d have fast-paced, action-packed episodes that would serve as that. “Team Ten” is a special episode and one that rewards people for sticking with the series as it lets you truly see everything from a different perspective, from pacing, style, character development, to storytelling. It’s hard to argue that this isn’t one of the absolute best parts of the series and should be recognized in the same way that the best fights of the series are.

  What are some of your favorite episodes that seem to try and shake up the status quo of Naruto? Let us know down in the comments below!

      Jared Clemons is a writer and podcaster for Seasonal Anime Checkup where he can be found always wanting to talk about Love Live! Sunshine!! or whatever else he's into at the moment. He can be found on Twitter @ragbag.

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[biohackerblogger-blog]

Biohacking and Science: A solution for most of your problems

In this article I’m going to be discussing biohacking—what it is and the different aspects of human biology an individual can improve (or “hack”, if you want to call it that) to optimise their life and cognition. In the next blog I’ll discuss the specific improvements I’ve made in my life and their scientific justifications—with an in-depth focus on nutrition, supplementation and cognitive-enhancement.

Biohacking as defined by merriam-webster is “biological experimentation done to improve the qualities or capabilities of living organisms especially by individuals and groups working outside a traditional medical or scientific research environment”.

While that sounds dramatic, the term could also be described as do-it-yourself biology—making small, incremental changes to your diet, habits and life to optimise your cognition and life expectancy. This hobby likely originated in Silicon Valley, a place popular in many trendy self improvement hacks: The keto diet, intermittent fasting and microdosing to name a few.

We are living in an era of excess. Western supermarkets are packed full of processed, sugary, fatty products that people cling to as comfort food. Social media and smartphones have been tweaked to be as addictive as possible. Even television has been replaced by on-demand streaming services that provide countless hours of mindless oblivion to addicted viewers—so much so that “binge-watching” is now a recognized term in many dictionaries. This combination and more has led to the shortening of the average attention span.

Coincidentally, it feels like every other person in recent generations seems to suffer from some form of ADHD, depression or other mental health issues.

Me, technically a part of generation z, am no exception.

I’ve been an underperformer most of my school career, with every parent-teacher meeting ending the same way: “Alexandru is a very bright boy but he doesn’t seem to be reaching his potential in class.”

I daydreamed, lost focus often and was often unmotivated when tackling complex tasks. My mom has practiced psychiatry for 2 decades and during my last year of high school I saw one of her colleagues who eventually diagnosed me with ADHD.

This shook me. I had believed that I was just a lazy person, not working hard enough but now this doctor was basically telling me that it wasn’t my fault; That I had a learning disability that would always put me at a disadvantage to other “functional” people.

As I made my way through university the same issues kept coming up over and over again and I started feeling hopeless. Medication seemed to act as a bandaid on the problem, working as intended inconsistently. Is this what the rest of my life was gonna be like?—Craving achievement while lacking the motivation to acquire it?

Nahhhh, I wasn’t going to let some abstract diagnosis prevent me from prospering in life.

Enter biohacking:

In my spare time at uni I began researching ways of “curing” my ADHD. The goal: Improving my attention, motivation and cognition anyway I could. I’m a scientist, so it only made sense to solve my problems with science. Little did I know I wasn’t so much as curing a disorder as I was just finding ways to optimise my life using scientific knowledge. I tried different lifestyle changes and recorded the positive benefits of each one—Basically running my own scientific experiments on a sample size of 1. Biohacking is basically tweaking your biology to improve your life.

Diet

As I mentioned before, supermarkets today are full of horrible, delicious processed food. It’s expensive eating healthy and it’s difficult to resist the allure of a greasy portion of chips. Regardless, I think a large percentage of the population seriously underestimate how much your diet impacts your day-to-day life as a human being. A heavily debated study found that judges tended to give harsher sentences just before lunch due to hunger (This study has argued about for years). If even people who practice being impartial for a living are at the mercy of their own biology—that means so are you.

Your body is a complex machine, requiring certain amounts of macronutrients (protein, carbs, fats) and micronutrients (vitamins, minerals) to carry out all of it’s processes efficiently. If any of these numbers are skewed, the machine won’t run smoothly. You can optimise your diet in a number of ways depending on your goals, but the FDA and similar organizations provide recommendations as to how much of each nutrient an average individual requires in a day.

Many of the micronutrients have important roles in our day-to-day lives which becomes apparent when we are deficient. Magnesium plays a huge role in good-quality sleep while vitamin D is important for healthy bones and mood. The world health organisation provides guidelines for what they consider a healthy diet which contains healthy doses of all these nutrients. Obviously, we’re human, not superhuman and we can’t always have a perfect diet all the time. There’s no shame in supplementing your diet artificially, just don't use pills as a replacement for healthy eating habits. Getting blood work done can help you identify which vitamins and minerals you're deficient to inform your dietary changes or supplement purchases.

If you're looking to improve cognition, omega-3 fatty acids are a well-researched staple supplement that is found in high quantities in fish. I could write a whole article on cognitive enhancement and supplements—so I’ll save it for the next one.

If weight loss is your goal maybe consider reading up on the science of the keto diet (a fat heavy diet that pushes metabolism into burning fat) or experimenting with alternative eating habits like intermittent fasting. Hell, I hear great things about going vegan nowadays and you’d be saving the environment while you’re at it.

Play around with it, optimise it for your goals and give supplements a try.

Exercise

The NHS recommends 75-150 minutes of exercise a week for the average individual. Obesity continues to be a huge issue in this country and others so more still needs to be done to encourage public fitness. It seems that many people make the mistake of thinking of exercise as a distraction from more important things like careers and making money, especially as they get older. They say they’re simply too busy and can’t find the time but in reality they’re decreasing their potential to excel in other aspects of their lives. There’s no point in making money if you’re too fat and achy to enjoy spending it.

Exercise is important. As Socrates eloquently puts it:

“No man has the right to be an amateur in the matter of physical training. It is a shame for a man to grow old without seeing the beauty and strength of which his body is capable.”

Deep.

Endorphins produced by exercise  make us feel great, we sleep better, we have more energy, we are more engaged with our work—Not a whole lot of downsides. For men in particular weight training is a very well-researched method or raising testosterone levels. A hormone my generation seems to be in significant lack of but in need of due to its important properties. Testosterone has anxiolytic properties, lubricates social interactions and is involved in providing an array of physical health benefits too.

Exercise is free, there are no downsides and a plethora of benefits. It doesn’t so much matter what type of exercise you’re doing so much as you’re doing it on a regular basis. It will suck, especially if you’re not accustomed to regular exercise but once you make it a habit (takes around 21 days to make something a habit), you’ll stop thinking about it and it’ll happen automatically.

Biohacking sure sounds a lot like self-improvement eh?

Sleep

In today’s day and age a good night’s sleep has become a rare treat. It’s like taking a gamble every night and hoping you wake up rested. As a student studying in the UK, I feel like I’m probably the most qualified person to say that. Sleep is very important for humans as pretty much all of our physical processes are regulated to some extent by our biological clock. A clock set by our circadian rhythm (Aka sleep cycle). Small perturbations to our sleep can seriously knock our daily rhythm out of line. Memories are written into your long term memory, waste products are flushed from the brain and the body readies itself for the new day. Everyone is aware their performance drops after a poor night’s sleep.

Here are some things you can do:

Humans need to go through about 4-6 sleep cycles per night to function adequately.

                          Sleep cycle = 90 minutes +/-                  5 * 90m = 7.5 hours

Try to wake up after sleeping a multiple of 90 minutes. If you wake up during the middle of a cycle you’re more likely to feel groggy. 6 hours, 7.5 or 9 hours between bed and wake are what you’re looking for.

Avoid blue light before bed. I’m sure you’ve already heard this one but blue light from screens inhibits sleep. Try a blue light filter on your laptop—Flux is the free one I use and recommend.

Avoiding caffeine, sugar and carbs before bed works wonders for your sleep. A magnesium supplement does too.

Going to bed and waking up at the same time consistently will make sleeping easy and soon your whole body will adjust itself to the routine. The human body loves routine.

Anything else worth mentioning

Yes, meditation is a big one. Specifically mindfulness. If you haven’t already been preached to on the internet about the numerous benefits of meditation, it seems to improve pretty much everything about people.—The ultimate meta-habit for improving all aspects of living. It shows promise in ameliorating depressive symptoms, anxiety, self-control and a lot more.

The mobile app headspace provides a great starting point and for those that want a challenge and want to try their hand at a monk’s life check out Vipassana meditation. Their free week-long retreats are a crash course in mindfulness with lifelong benefits. I tried one this summer and was convinced it was a cult for the first 3 days.

I’ve seen huge improvement in my life after I started applying science to fix my problems. I hope I’ve managed to give an effective overview of my experience in biohacking and given you some well-researched places to get started. If you have a biological background I think it’s a shame not to use that background to optimise your life in every way you can.

Thanks for reading,

Alex

P.S. here’s a short rant:

I think (not all, but a lot) of the recent diagnoses of ADHD and depression could be “cured” by not treating it as an isolated malady caused by some bad genes and poor luck—but as a culmination of lifestyle choices and habits that could be improved upon. Exercise and diet should be the FIRST CHOICE intervention when it comes to treating things like ADHD and depression.

I believe diet and exercise should always precede a chemical solution to these ailments. There are hundreds of supplements and activities that have proven psychological benefits that could hugely benefit humans. Thanks again.

[painatheart]

method to my madness - two 02.

story page | before - next 

“Okay, let’s—Work stuff. That’s your desk,” he points behind him. Even if she knows that already, she nods like she doesn’t. She glances quickly over, and it’s obvious that his attention is fully back on his computer, focused and driven, like what he’s currently doing is the most important thing in the world.

“Thanks,” Cez walks over, begging herself not bump anything else. Not to interrupt Niall’s concentration. And momentary good graces. She doesn’t need another crash to remind her that Niall exists in some sort of different plane than her—a plane where perfection is reached, basically right next door, and boys with brown fluffy hair and pressed polos and genius brains can get away with breaking girls’ hearts. Specifically, hearts like hers.

“I’m not sure,” Niall used to say. He said this when he was bored or flustered or endlessly tired from fishing for answers. He said it as a go-to statement, when he didn’t want to be bothered. And if a statement could be used more than anything else in the world, he said this with an air of unfinished finality, a mess of a paradox—the same way someone would say, ‘I’m done, I’m confused, but I’m not changing anything about it.’ Because Niall wasn’t a person who’d go blind and pave the road for his heart. He was logical, a follower of his mind, and basically, so very unlike her.

 He would be determined, until he’d realize that it would be impossible. Cez would think it’d be impossible, which is why she’d be determined. In the a little way, Cez thought that they were her own little paradox, if placed together.

 Niall wouldn’t second-guess any of his decisions. It’s not who he is. Cez, on the other hand, would constantly seek for a second chance, even if her brain said otherwise.

 +

 The One Direction tutoring center resembles more of an art studio and a corporate office mixed together rather than what she had imagined it to be. Cez usually had bouts of imagination enough to fill a pack of elephants, ready enough to spin the cogs of Willy Wonka’s factory into a non-probable demise, but here... well, she shouldn’t have picked up an arm to think, because she’s not exactly sure if she’s pleased with the minimalistic theme the center’s got going on.

 When Louis forks over to an opposite direction from where Liam’s going, his head nodding at the male’s bathroom  plaque and a mumbled ‘see ya later,’ Cez has less than a second to wave an enthusiastic goodbye before she uses her short legs to run after her soon-to-be boss.

 Cez scurries at Liam’s pace, big strides that beckon the long hallway alike to the cramp walkway leading towards the bathroom back at home. Her thoughts wander at a funny monochrome statue of what must be a naked lady and her torso smelling her own shiny armpit, unfortunately Liam snaps his finger to tell her to quicken up her pace before she can dare snapchat it to Alice. “Ever heard of Holden?” He says nonchalantly, bringing up his finger to sweep it against a crook of one wall. He inspects his finger, and is pleased to see it dirt-free.

 “Of course,” She perks up, happy to answer. “It’s the preppy boarding school that kids with famous parents go to. The Guardian had an article on it.”

 He continues, amused. “Glad you know. Well, we have a partnership with Holden and we have tutoring lessons there on Saturdays. It’s a wonderful school to tutor for, don’t be afraid of what Louis curses off about that school.”

 “Why?”

 “Because Louis will definitely restrain you from going, he hates it there. And he says it smells too garlicky for him, messes up his stomach. But he still goes there every Saturday anyway.”

 “He gets paid though, right? I think it’ll be fun. Children and a posh school, how bad can it be?”

 “Right. Keep up that enthusiasm. I don’t know what Louis’ got going with Holden. He hates it there, but he’s got his own crazy kid cult that he can’t help but coddle, so yes, it’s not bad at all.” Liam leans against the door handle. “So here’s where you’ll be working.”

 With a single pump, her vision alertly takes in the busy querying and bustling footsteps marking up and down the floor. First of the few tables Cez’s eyes have looked at are uncontainable and messy, with ball-point pens in metal holders, stacks of a4 paper, and manned by busy young adults that either have their back hunched over a clipboard, or their respective Mac screens. A mid-twenty looking guy in velvet jeans has his own screen blaring a Stranger Things episode, but he frantically switches it over to an Excel sheet once he catches the sight of Liam.

 Even if the fluorescents above them are making her eyes water, it obviously doesn’t matter because this place really looks promising despite the lighting flaw. Not like any sort of sham she expected she’ll be getting into, thankfully. God has finally blessed her with a job that had an office she actually likes, as shallow as it sounds. Getting a job through a should-be date is surely the worst way to acquire one, but to her it doesn’t matter as long as she’s no longer unemployed.

 Hmm… It’s a bit of a horror story she’ll be telling her mom, for sure, once she gets home for Christmas.

 “’Scuse me, miss,” she ducks down, cheeks flushing, as a cute guy in sleeves shoot a Trident-bright smile at her, the printer on his arm looking like it weighed as heavy as a teacup Chihuahua.

 As she stands up properly, her skin bristles at all the opportunities of starting fresh. Here, she imagines as she wades through her potential new co-workers and maybe-friends, she can be anyone. She can be someone exciting. No more nerdy Francesca, or boring Francesca. The possibilities are endless.

 +

             “Here we are,” announces Liam, “Let’s get to the science department,” half-way blinking rapidly and half-way wearily smiling. Sometime between stepping into this certain hallway Liam’s shoulders has constricted, looping his white jacket around his stressed shoulders like a squished dollop of whip-cream. She’s only about to question him when they curve around the corner and she’s hugged by a cloud of coffee-shop aroma and unfortunately, assaulted by a spray of goosebumps and a raised heartbeat.

 Oh no, oh no. Don’t tell me... Her eyes do not betray her. Well, the glasses are new. The black slim full rim frames are perched perfectly on his nose, like a sleeping crow on a tree branch; while his head is bowed down, eyes skipping past pages of printed paper, her blood boils as his stubbly chin is on full-view, and she simply stands there—excited, afraid, and unable to move.

             “Francesca?” Liam questions, skimming the calendar on his phone, politely unaware, yet oddly irregularly different from his usual composure when she first met him.

             “Cez,” she answers instinctively, and hell no, it’s exactly like in movies and everything is going in slow-motion. Niall snappishly cocks up his head at the sound of her voice, blue eyes flicking over in her proximity. It’s both climactic and anti-climactic at the exact same time, which she supposes it definitely should be, if you would ever meet your childhood crush again in your young twenties. Composed yet mildly freaked out—because she’s an adult and she must be mature.

             After a few painstaking seconds, it’s Niall who hesitantly greets her. “Cez… it’s great to see ya?” However, it’s ironic that his face says anything but. His fingers brush up against the edges of his brown hair, bewildered. There’s something about the way he says Cez that pushes up blood up to her ears. It’s a mixture of painful embarrassment and pure torture, considering what happened the last time she was face-to-face with him... A lodge of nerves are coming to block her voice box, and she literally wants to whisk herself away from this abrupt mess.

             And here goes another part of her body’s constant flush, she can feel the blood peeping up her neck. “Uh—“ She squeaks, “Uh, what’s up, Niall? Long time no chat, yeah?” Oh. My. Gosh.

             She can’t believe after years and years of no contact, this is where they meet again. In a tutoring center, for goodness’ sake!

             His surprise lasts for a brief moment, but like a bird indeed, Niall flattens his ruffled feathers and stands up quickly to shake her hand, as if no time has passed at all. She finds herself gripping back with intent, stupidly marveling how the once bottled-blond boy with the penchant for science textbooks and math equations suddenly decided to grow and broaden up in her absence. Staring down at her, his straight face—clean eyes and unsmiling lips—doesn’t waver. It reminds her of spelling bees and science Olympiads, them being partnered together. All the time. “The replacement for Kim, yeah?”

             Sensing his address, Liam looks up with an abnormally straight face of his own. “Yeah, show her the ropes tomorrow, okay Horan?” Liam faces her right after, now with a smile. “After all, the kids don’t teach themselves.”

             They go off to, ostensibly, Liam’s office. The temptation to turn around makes her neck itch, it’s like her brain is telling her to take another glimpse to make sure if it really was Niall James Horan, and not just a figment of her highly active imagination. Her desperation seeps through her pores, an ache lodged in her throat hoping that she can study him—study every part of him, frantic to see what changes he had encountered over the years of her absence. Turn around, Cez.

 But she doesn’t. She thinks she can feel the heat on the back of her neck, but that must be her brain playing tricks on her self-esteem.

             When Cez enters after Liam in his clean (how surprising!) office, she blinks when Liam lets out a steam of relief. Patting his chest, as if he’s rewarding himself for a blip of triumph, his face floods with content. “Phew, thank god you survived that. Scares the shit outta me, that Horan. Taking bets, he’s the one who made Kim go AWOL.”

             “You’re scared of Niall?” She says, disbelief mauling her features. The tone layered over Liam’s voice immediately takes her skin in annoyance, because Niall’s as harmless as a goldfish. A brunet goldfish, with a brain that can make Einstein snatched from his wig.

             “Ah.” Liam rolls his eyes and checks his watch, looking like he can sense her defensive stance about Niall, “You know the weirdo?”

             Cez coughs, “…He was my—“

             “Don’t say boyfriend.”

             “He’s not!” Although, Cez wanted him to be. “He’s just someone I’ve gone to school with in the past. He’s a go--” What kind of friend was he, anyway? “…He’s a friend.”

             Liam says, “Of course, you got the same school in your records. I’ve checked, didn’t I tell you? Just didn’t think that you would really know, know each other.”

             “Funny,” she sneers.

             Liam ignores her. Instead, he runs to his table with a hundred-watt grin. “This is even better. Since you know each other you’ll definitely get along better than Kim and Niall did. I hope you don’t run off because I’m always in need of staff.” He finishes it off with fire under his eyes, although she doesn’t bother to question him about that further.

             “Um, I don’t think—“

             Liam flips through papers, jotting something down. “Okay, now just sign this and you’ll be off to work starting tomorrow. Do you have any questions that I need to address? Have any problems with the department you’ll be working in or anything else aside from that?” His words run together too quickly and she only finds herself looking into Liam’s eager smile until she realizes that she’s got to respond or else she’ll look like a gob smacked blob.  

             Cez steps closer to investigate the paper he’s got out for her, her fingers curling around Liam’s black Muji pen. In big black print, her name listed her under the science department, under the capitalized NIALL HORAN as her new ‘head,’ basically her new boss who she’s got to follow the whole time for the next duration of her future in this tutoring center. Is she really going to follow through with this? Technically, she had already been hired by Liam but the only thing that it isn’t official is that she’ll work in the science department with her childhood crush.

             But her hand speaks for itself, pretty sure of what Cez truly wants. Without further ado, she marks her signature on it with a single flourish over her printed name, officially listing her under the Science department in One Direction tutoring center, complete with a panicky heart and a black 0.5 Muji-penned type of finality.

 +

             Someone in orange Crocs runs in the girl’s bathroom with a flurry ready to pull out the thunder from her under, and Cez immediately pushes up her feet against the wooden stall, hiding her shoe profile, until she hears another door closes and clicks to a lock. Sighing, she puts more weight against her own toilet seat, and glances down on her cracked phone screen.

             It’s 7 o’clock. Technically, she’s a bit too early for her first day at work, but the chances of meeting Niall in the girl’s bathroom is clearly none, and she’s willing to grab it at her reach while she still can. Goodness, signing that contract yesterday didn’t really shake her into seriousness about working with Niall. It was only the next morning when she had already taken the early train to work, got a bagel along the way, and actually stepped in the elevator leading up to her floor, was when she realized that she was going to see Niall again.

             Another part of her wants to slap herself silly, thinking how moronic it is that a boy is obliviously rattling her to the core right now. That, in actuality, a boy was and now, is, the hindrance to unlocking her future potential, whatever it’s going to be. Literally, the idea of Niall is the current dilemma that’s stopping her from acting like her cool, casual self (who was she kidding? She was never cool and casual.) It’s stopping her from perusing her plan (the one where she wanted to be someone new in this fresh, unfamiliar start that she was supposed to be in), and she can’t possibly do that now—not when someone from her past has floated up abruptly back in her life.

             Simply put, Cez is scared to see Niall. She has a million reasons to be scared.

             Can’t she please just get locked in this stall forever? She closes her eyes for God’s intervention, praying He’s got an answer to her gigantic first-world problem.

             “Excuse me?” A knock and an irritated voice coming against her door interrupts her hopeless monologue. “Er, are you done? I need to use the toilet and you’ve been in there for, like, twenty minutes.” It isn’t God, but rather one of His annoying creations.

             Cez leaps out of there with her jacket and her purse, leaving the toilet seat down, letting the girl pass, and immediately she scans herself on the mirror for embarrassing cream cheese stains; but, the voice comes up again, “Um, ew. Aren’t you going to flush?” Beckons the same girl, her grimace saying that she’s not going in unless Cez does something.

             “What?” Cez stares blankly.

             “Like, you didn’t flush. That’s disgusting and unhygienic,” her kohl-lined eyes narrow and seizes her up. “I’ve never seen you in my life. Who are you anyway? I’m reporting you to the Health Crisis center ASAP.” She snaps her fingers for emphasis.

             There’s a pregnant pause. She isn’t sure if she is to answer the first statement or the next question, but she proceeds to the latter instead, thinking that it’s better to introduce herself first before making a first impression that she’s a notorious non-handwasher.

             “I’m Cez, and don’t worry, I didn’t take a dump if that’s what you’re thinking, I swear. It’s a long story but I’m actually—“ The girl brings a hand up to stop her. And she bursts out laughing a second later. “I’m sorry,” she tells Cez’s startled eyebrows. “I honestly don’t give a shit, Bambi, I was just taking the piss out of you. Consider it as a rite of passage, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

             “Um.”

             “Perrie Edwards, at your service.” The blonde smiles like she’s in an insurance commercial. Though, Cez doesn’t deny that there’s a sort of underlying mischief in it.  

 “English department. Saw you walking down the square yesterday. Me and Jesy sweared it was a new hire Liam roped in again. And here am I again, correct! Liam’s the most predictable prat, evah,” there’s a second where she takes another breath in, and subsequently, she starts again. “Oh, if you’re wondering, the square is where most of the desks are for the English and Maths tutors. Either way, people from the rest of the departments hang out there because it’s closer to the pantry, which by the way, is tiny as hell.” Her continuous talking spins her head crazier than Liam did.

             Clearing her throat, Cez thinks that she’s probably the only reserved one in this center. “This place seemed more of a real-time office than what I imagined a tutoring center would be. It’s honestly kind of crazy. Where do we even teach the children? And why is everyone here so hectic?”

             “It’s not just a tutoring center, we’re also an educational publishing house and we release updated review books every year. The third floor is reserved for the one-on-one handling. We have five rooms for tutoring over there. The fourth floor, on the other hand, has got the three classrooms for general review sessions. Most of our kids come from fancy schmancy public and private schools, with parents willing to dump us in cash to take them in for five hours a day like fucking daycare.” Perrie cackles at the thought of that. She narrows her eyes for the second time when she turns to look at the mirror to examine her dyed side part. “What did you say your department was again?”

             Cez places her hands together into prayer formation, “I didn’t. I’m under the Science department. Ya know, Niall—“

             “Horan, he’s the Science head,” Perrie slowly nods. And Perrie pivots her thigh to the side to cock her head out like a parrot at the mirror (either to check out the back of her hair or if the seams of her pants are straight—Cez isn’t sure), “You know, we only had three people under him for the past year, and let me tell you things that gone over there were as messy as a Jackson Pollock artwork. You didn’t hear this from me but I heard that Kim, she was here until she scrammed, couldn’t take the guy. He was a nightmare, as so she said—It was alright, I guess, I wasn’t too keen on Kim, either. A dark horse, that one.”

             Honestly, that only makes her skin prickle faster than she can say ‘go.’ Cez already had a feeling that Liam and Louis didn’t like Niall. It had been apparent in the elevator yesterday, and Liam’s reaction soon after they had encountered him both absurd and fascinated her. While it was interesting to accumulate these brand new descriptions of the New Niall in her brain, she nevertheless knew that all these reactions and words sting her powerfully as if they had been talking about her. In her mind, Cez still thought of Niall as a childhood friend—a part of her past that was also an extension of her arm. It doesn’t seem fair that she’s taking things personally, but come on! She’s nursed a crush on that boy for multiple years. She definitely will take things personal.

             ...Despite that fact that she’s currently tactfully avoiding his presence as much as possible. Like, for example, now.

             In the midst of her thinking, Perrie had apparently still been talking, “...But not like we know, too, I mean, we stay away from him as much as possible.”

             “Eh, I’ll just have my own judgement when I meet him,” Cez only realizes she had said this a few seconds too late. “Who knows, maybe he’s secretly a fluffy teddy bear?” She tries for upbeat, but it rings fake and dry a bit too much across the tile floors.

             “Doubt it,” Perrie says, unaware of her tone. “He’s probably a secret raging serial killer who preys on midget Asian girls. How tall are you anyway? I can practically eat you in one bite!”

 +

             He wasn’t there! Is her first thought when she arrives at her marked desk—marked, speaking, with a taped paper slip with her name and smiley face on it. Her chair sits in front of her desk, which thankfully, has its back towards Niall’s respective desk.

 This will enable her to work with their backs facing each other. No way is she going to spend her hours glancing up her screen to have accidental locking eyes with said man. Granted, Niall is a sight for sore eyes but she isn’t willing to sacrifice her blush-able cheeks, that is doomed to be the bane of her existence, just to catch a quick glance of him. She isn’t that desperate.

             “Cez,” behind her, his voice startles her so much that she knocks right into her desk. They both watch (her—wide-eyed and mentally groaning, and him—probably sneering over her existence) as an empty red pen holder clatters after it crashes like Humpty Dumpty (without the cracks).

 If it had a life, she’d be on her knees now to hug its’ soreness away. Just so she can get away from interacting with Niall, even for a few minutes. But the pen holder’s a pen holder. And she can only pick it up and lay it back on her empty desk (it lasted for two seconds) before glancing up again at the man with the calculating blue eyes.

             “Sorry. The pen holder. It fell.” She says bluntly, shrugging her shoulders like ‘what can she do?’ “Uh, hi there.”

             “You’re still quite clumsy.” Niall states after a millisecond of eyeing her cautiously. “Unfortunately.”

             “Yeah,” she laughs awkwardly. “Uh, I guess so.” Did he really just say unfortunately? How rude.

             A tiny pause appears. There are two ways to take hold of this situation; first, she can steer this simple conversation into a boring path, all about work and strictly professional things; or second, she can totally screw it up by talking about the last time she’s seen him...

             Or you know, she can talk about neither.

 “I forgot you were starting today.” He says curtly through slim glasses, beating her. His voice, however, tells her he obviously didn’t forget. Judging by the slight frown on his face (a familiar sight that kind of hugs her as a welcome), he most probably couldn’t.

 Standing there awkwardly, Cez is suddenly microscopically aware of the chipped nail she accidentally broken today when she was hurrying to catch an early train. After all her time in picking a respectable outfit the night before, the broken nail seems to defeat the purpose.

 She’s distinctly aware of the floating ‘um’ in the air, especially due to the lack of noise within the big room and that only two of them are seemingly early today. Cez recalls the Perrie girl mentioning two other workers in the Science department, besides the non-existent Kim, who are supposedly under Niall, too; however her sight catches none of their presence right now.

             “Uh, so, weird huh, how we meet again in a tutoring center?” She starts off lamely.

             Niall gives her a frosty look. “Not really. It’s not the most suitable job for my credentials, but for a starter job I guess it’s fine for a while. For you, I believe, this job is better than nothing.”

             “Excuse you,” she’s surprised at herself when she squawks, “But it was my personal choice to work in this tutoring center! I didn’t get in here because I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” She doesn’t add that she got interviewed through a faux date, but it’s not like anyone, most importantly Niall, has to know the details, right?

             “Really?” He arches an eyebrow, looking at her intently. When she nods vigorously, Niall slightly frowns, as though he’s trying to read her. “Is it just me or were you always this small?”

             The change of topic catches her off guard. “I grew,” she fibs lamely.

 He eyes her once, obviously not believing her, before he counters, “I don’t think so. Your hair is different, though. It’s all wavy and long now.” Niall joins her in noise, stretching his hands and getting in his seat.

             It’s the first thing New Niall has mentioned anything about her new appearance, so she’s a bit surprised initially. He’s never really one for descriptions, always saying that whatever occurs in between the lines didn’t matter; for example, the appearance of a character. As long as Katniss was able to overthrow the Capitol, it didn’t matter than she was hot.

             “Says the man who grew his real color out,” she pauses when he just stares, curious. He’s actually waiting of what she’s got to say. “Er—It looks good on you, in fairness. It’s nice, uh, with,” Cez’s eyes catches one of those hipster Moose heads propped against one of the walls in the Square, “With the nature-y feel of this place.”

             He blinks. Even Cez is unsure of what she just said.

             “Thanks very much,” he says unsurely. But she can sense the cogs of his brain working and summing up the fact what she just said equated very much to his supposed answer=what the fuck? “I guess it would be a shame if my natural color didn’t fit me.” And Niall halts from getting different papers from his drawer and he flips around. His fingers curl around the neck of his hair.

 “Okay, let’s—Work stuff. That’s your desk,” he points behind him. Even if she knows that already, she nods like she doesn’t. She glances quickly over, and it’s obvious that his attention is fully back on his computer, focused and driven, like what he’s currently doing is the most important thing in the world.

 “Thanks,” Cez walks over, begging herself not bump anything else. Not to interrupt Niall’s concentration. And momentary good graces. She doesn’t need another crash to remind her that Niall exists in some sort of different plane than her—a plane where perfection is reached, basically right next door, and boys with brown fluffy hair and pressed polos and genius brains can get away with breaking girls’ hearts. Specifically, hearts like hers.

 A printer sits in between their desks, each of its sides has wires plugged into it from both of their respective computers. It suddenly gives a mechanical groan, startling her.

             “Right, work stuff.” But Cez realizes that she’s not exactly sure what her ‘work stuff’ should be. She tells Niall, and he looks like displeased to see her interrupt his work, annoying her a bit. All the more she gets flustered because it’s not her fault that her own boss hadn’t told her what to do in the first place.

             Subsequently, he shows her how to connect the Bluetooth printer to her designated computer, how to work several programs designed for the center’s use, and sort out old questionnaires from the new ones. Kim, apparently, has left her work in a state of disarray, and Niall hadn’t got the time to fix it himself. Following his instructions, he uses the mouse to bring up Keynote and he tells her calmly that he needs slides centered on Cell Anatomy, Chemical Bases, and Animal Forms & Functions ready by Wednesday morning, which is tomorrow. At least 30 slides, each.

             Her eyebrows furrow but she resists from asking too much questions.

             “I teach a review session in the afternoon,” Niall explains, distractedly. He must have seen her curious face over the sudden workload. He had removed himself from standing over Cez’s desk to return at his own desk, showcasing that his attention over teaching the newbie has soon come to an end.

             “So,” she says, setting down her bag, processing what he just said, and distracting herself from the remnants of his coffee smell that flew over to her nose when he was showing her where the illegal download file for Campbell’s 10th edition was. “I’m basically your assistant. Just making it clear.”

             “Yes.” Niall says bluntly as she sits on the edge of her chair.

             “Sorry, it’s just that, when Liam was telling me about this job I thought I was going to teach and hang out with kids. Not, you know, be a tutor’s assistant or somethin’.”

             “Who said assisting me was the only thing you’ll be doing? You’ll be helping out Shawn and Julia, two of my tutors. Gotta keep an eye on you, Kim could have left her magical spell to curse you in leaving.” She opens her mouth, but he shockingly smirks. “You’re still the grunt round here, I guess, until I reckon if you’re adequate enough for bigger jobs.”

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[lalainajanes]

Prompt for AU Week (or any time) (I am not particular obviously): kc + alphas of rival werewolf packs and fuck we're mates

Send Shivers Down My Back

When Caroline steps off the elevator she’s greeted by aneerie quiet. It puts her on edge. She’s later to arrive than usual, a sideeffect of a series of restless nights and a guest who didn’t know how to take ahint. It’s nearly 10 AM she should bethe last to arrive. Scanning the room she sees a full house, but there’s noneof the usual chatter and bustle. The ping of IMs is absent, there are notapping keyboards. Not a single squeaky wheel or shuffling of papers can beheard.

Caroline needs to figure out just what’s happened andquickly.

She pauses a few steps out of the elevator and looks aroundmore carefully, notes the pinched expressions and nervous fidgeting that aboundeven as all of her employees avoid her eyes.

Something was verywrong.

She doesn’t think it’sher – she’s not exactly a pushover ofa boss but she’s not Cruella DeVille either. Caroline expects results and isn’tshy about offering either praise or criticism. Nor did she allow herself to gettoo personally involved with her staff. Most of her employees were also herpack and her position as alpha was tenuous and often on the verge of beingchallenged. At work she took great pains to be cordial so she hasn’t thefaintest clue about why every person who works for her is suddenly acting like Carolinehad been hatching a plan to use their pelts for outerwear.

She begins walking again, her pace brisk, the crack of her heelson the marble tiles gunshot loud in the stillness. She stops in front of herassistant’s desk, notes that April is trembling with nerves. Caroline leansforward, smiling softly and making an effort to sound gentle. She can’t showthat she’s alarmed. Leaders never panicked. “April? Do you have any messagesfor me?”

“On your desk, ma’am. But…” her voice falters and she looksup at Caroline with wide, helpless eyes.

“But…” Caroline prompts.

“There’s a… visitor in your office.”

Caroline straightens abruptly, a swell of irritationmingling with her unease. “Why would you let someone wait in my officeunsupervised?”

April struggles to answer, at first only emitting astrangled whimper. She manages to draw in a shaky breath. “He didn’t reallygive me a choice.”

Caroline scoffs, “So? There’s a reason I pay a securityteam.”

She whirls when she hears the familiar whisper of her officedoor. It only takes another instant for the heavy scent of blood to hit her.Caroline tenses, darts a glance at the letter opener on April’s desk. It’s notsilver so it won’t kill a wolf but Caroline can certainly do some damage withit. Her fingers itch to lunge for it but she tells herself to be patient andassess the situation. She studies the man framed in the doorway carefully,trying to place him. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a snug grey Henleythat’s spattered with blood. He’s not particularly large or muscle bound butsome instinct tells Caroline not to let that fool her.

Her gut tells her he’s powerful, dangerous. All the more sobecause he doesn’t look it.

“Who,” she bites out frostily, “do you think you are?”

She vaguely hears April scurrying away though the man’s eyesdon’t leave Caroline. He drifts forward a step, then another, light on his feeteven in heavy boots and Caroline watches him approach carefully, looking forany twitch of muscle that will indicate he’s planning on going for her throat.

But there’s no threat in his movements, his hands remainvisible, loose at his sides. “I know exactlywho I am. I thought I knew who you were, Caroline Forbes, but it seems as if Imissed something critical.”

He sounds perturbed but Caroline only grows confused. Whatcould he possibly have missed? Caroline led two lives, kept pack business separatefrom her company, but she was an open book in both if you knew who to ask. Andfrom the way this guy carries himself, the intelligence in his eyes, he’s notthe type to do sloppy recon.

If he hadn’t shown up uninvited and spilled blood on herterritory she might have even respected him.

When he steps closer Carolineinhales instinctively, used to using her heightened senses to her advantage. Hisscent drifting over her and a light touch of cologne can’t hide the scent ofhis skin.

It hits her hard and she breathes deep, her heartbeatthrumming a frantic rhythm as she fights her instinctive need to claim what’shers with touch and teeth and claws. She wants her marks on his skin, his handson hers and for their scents to combine into something new, something that willwarn others away.

He’s hers. Only hers.

She’s heard enough stories to know what’s happening to her, what he is to her even though he’s yet tosupply a name. Caroline locks her knees to keep from swaying on her feet. It’sa struggle to maintain her hardened expression, but she has to think. She gritsher teeth and fights the pull of him, locks her muscles when her body protests.The urge to step forward is strong, all she wants to do is rend their clothinginto miniscule pieces, to press every inch of her skin to every inch of his.

She didn’t even care that they had an audience. Werewolvesweren’t exactly shy.

It takes longer to recognize the scent of the blood, butonce it tugs at her she uses it as a focal point. It’s familiar but placing ittakes time while she sorts through an overwhelming tangle of emotions.

Once it clicks she’s abashed that it took so long. She knowswhose blood her mate is wearing. After all, she’s spilled it herself often enough.

“Where’s Tyler?” Caroline demands, hating how thick andunsteady the words come out. She needs to get herself under control.

“Tyler?” the stranger asks, his head tipping to the sidequizzically.

Caroline offers a false smile. “Dark hair, about yay high?”She holds her hand about level with her forehead. “His blood ruined your shirt soI imagine you at least spoke?”

“Ah, so that was his name. We only exchanged a few briefwords. I’m afraid I reacted rather hastily.” The words are contrite but hisexpression isn’t. If anything he appears maliciously pleased with himself.

“Reacted to what?” Caroline presses.

“A strange wolf covered in my mate’s scent.”

Several audible gasps ring out from around the room, makingit clear this conversation is far from private.

They need to take this discussion elsewhere. Baring her bodywouldn’t faze her but this? This was no one’s business.

Caroline’s hands ball into tight fists, her nails digginginto her palms as she considers the ramifications of what her pack had justwitnessed. The gossip would spread quickly, every member of her pack who wasn’tin attendance will have heard the news she’d been mated within the hour. The usualdicks who are always gunning for her spot will be emboldened, will assume amate will make her weak.

They’re going to be sorely disappointed. Caroline’s notabout to let go of everything she’s achieved, all that she’s built, without onehell of a fight.

Klaus had known Caroline Forbes was lovely – the companyshe’d inherited was publically traded, and so a quick search had yielded dozensof images. He’d studied them all. She’d been cool and calculating in a navybusiness suit at a shareholder’s meeting, her pale blonde hair ruthlesslypinned back. She wore evening wear just as well, elegant gowns and fine jewels,always smooth and serene as she attended charity galas and awards banquets.He’d particularly liked the photo of her outdoors at a Forbes Inc. sponsored animaladoption drive. She’d been laughing with a pile of Shepard mutts in her lap,her curls loose and blowing at the wind, softer and joyous and all the moreappealing.

At that point he’d begin to idly consider bedding her as ameans to soften her up. Every report said that she was smart, calculating andruthless. All traits Klaus admired. It wouldn’t be a hardship to use lust toattempt to sway her to his side.

He suspected that he’d rather enjoy mixing business withpleasure.

He intended to claim a piece of territory for the pack he’dbeen building.  A piece that bordered andpossibly overlapped land that the Forbes pack had always considered theirs. Andwhile Klaus had no real qualms about taking what he wanted with fear andbloodshed (a method that had worked exceedingly well for him over the lastmillennium) it had been pointed out that diplomacy might occasionally serve hisinterests better. His efforts to force triggered wolves to be hybrids hadyielded unfavorable results. A wolf infected with vampirism against their willwas difficult to control.

Besides, if he continued to have to kill the hybrids thatrefused to fall in line eventually Klaus might very well run out of werewolvesaltogether.

Without werewolves there could be no hybrids. And Klaus hadcome to be rather fond of his hybrids.

Caroline Forbes will make a magnificent one.

She’d looked a bit tired when he’d first spotted her, thoughthat had quickly melted away once she’d sensed a threat. She’d grown reactiveand watchful until the moment she’d caught his scent and had been sent reeling.He’d watched the play of emotions across her face with fascination, had beenimpressed by her ability to control herself. She’d managed to claw back an admirable amount of poise.

Watching her Klaus had decided he’d make a project of unravellingher impressive control. And he’d make certain she enjoyed it enough to beg fora repeat performance.

After he’d uttered the word ‘mate’ her posture had closedoff. She’d stalked out the way she’d come, making no motion for Klaus tofollow.

He had, of course. They had quite a lot to discuss. Carolinehadn’t appeared surprised when he’d shadowed her into the elevator and Klaustook that as a sign that he was welcome. He’d watched as she’d yanked her phoneout of her bag. A few taps and she’d lifted it to her ear, “Tell everyone toclear out. Now,” she instructs, her tone icy and offering no room forquestions. The phone is stowed in jerky motions and she smooths out her dressas she faces the front of the elevator, keeping a careful distance betweenthem. He detects no additional warmth when she speaks to him and she doesn’tlook at him. “We use three floors of this building. We’re heading to the 42nd.Everyone will be gone and we can talk over who you are and what you want.”

“Yes, it was rather rude of me to show up without anappointment, wasn’t it? But you’ve so determinedly been dodging my attempts toset up a meeting.”

Klaus watches with great interest as her spine stiffens. Shecrosses her arms, “Ah. So you’re Klaus.”

“Does my reputation precede me?”

Her eyes close briefly and he watches her fist ball sotightly he wonders if her nails are drawing blood, “It’s kind of hard for itnot to, don’t you think? It’s so very colorful.Were you planning on killing me?”

“I had considered it,” Klaus admits. “That’s off the tablenow, of course. I was rather leaning towards seduction if that eases yourmind.”

“Immensely,” she spits out venomously, just as the elevatordoors slide open.

She stalks out, attempting to leave him in her dust. Klausdoesn’t bother to hide his pleased grin as he watches the angry sway of herhips. He’d never given much thought to what his mate would be like but heshould have known she’d have a temper that was something to marvel at.

Honestly, Klaus had always thought him finding a mate wasexceedingly unlikely given how long he’d been alive.

Caroline Forbes is a surprise, a disruption in his plans. He’snever dealt well with those before but this instance is an exception.

He’s not even bothered by the knowledge that this will unlikelybe the last wrinkle in his plans she’s responsible for.  If anything he eagerly anticipates the clashesthey’ll surely have.

He’d just met her but he sensed that Caroline was a worthyopponent. Any mate of his would have to be.

She’s being unforgivably rude. Both of her southerngrandmothers would have fits if they saw the way Caroline was acting. Herparents would be entirely disapproving – they’d drilled the rules of diplomacytheir kind abided by into her head since birth. William and Elizabeth Forbeshad prepared her to lead even when their peers had scoffed at the idea of awoman heading up a pack as old as theirs. If Caroline had treated any othervisiting Alpha the way she was treating Klaus Mikaelson right now she’d have awar on her hands.

She tells herself there are serious extenuatingcircumstances but it’s a weak defense. She needs to do better. Caroline keeps moving,avoids looking at him, maintaining as much distance between their bodies as shepossibly can. Her avoidance wouldn’t be noticeable to most but Klaus’ indulgentexpression tells Caroline he knows exactly what she’s doing and why. He’spersistent in closing the gap though he’s smooth about it. He doesn’t push too far into her bubble but he’sundeniably there.

Unsettling her.

She leads him into a conference room, a place where shealways feels in control. Caroline can only hope that it gives her a boostbecause she’s feeling so far off her game. Her nerves are screaming at her, herthoughts a jumbled mess of cautions and demands and admonishments. She’d knownthat putting Klaus Mikaelson off was a gamble, had hoped to just buy a littletime to figure out a way to bargain with him.

She’s got lists on her phone. Things she can offer him. She’dthought it a simple matter of enticement, thought that she merely had to findsomething he would want.

The problem with that was there weren’t too many things a1000 year old hybrid with money to burn and very few boundaries about peskythings like rights of ownership didn’t already have.

She’d had no illusions about how hopelessly outmatched herpack was if Klaus wanted to take them out or worse, collect them for his hybridarmy. Caroline had been running herself ragged trying to think of a solution,some deal she could strike.

She hadn’t expected him to just show up and she certainlyhadn’t expected that he’d be her freaking mate.

Caroline circles the table, sinks into the leather chairthat sits at the head. Klaus wanders over to the windows. “It’s quite a view,”he remarks admiringly.

She holds in a snort. “Really? We’re doing small talk now?”

“Would you have preferred I offer an apology for yourboyfriend’s untimely death?”

He turns to look at her, his eyes far too blue and far toointent. Caroline folds her hands to stop them from visibly trembling. She’strying so hard but she can’t stop wanting to touch him.

“That depends. Are you actually sorry?”

His shrug is casual and he takes a careful step forward,gauging her reaction. “I’m rarely sorry, truth be told.”

“Yeah, I figured. That sounds right in line with yourreputation.”

“You don’t seem particularly broken up,” Klaus notes. “AboutTyler. Not a love match, then?”

Caroline considers her answer carefully. She knew how oldKlaus was, had heard stories of his cunning. She has no doubt he’ll spot anylie she tries to tell and hold it against her. If she’s going to protect herpack she needs to earn a little trust. “I loved Tyler when I was in highschool. Before pack politics mattered. When my father died… things got messy.Richard Lockwood wanted to be alpha, couldn’t wrap his head around the ideathat little ‘ol me was capable. He challenged me. I won.”

“Did you kill him?”

“No. Nor did I kill him the second time he tried. I probablywould have, had he tried again, but Mr. Lockwood had a heart attack and keeledover in his mistress’s apartment before that became necessary. Tyler tried achallenge of his own the next full moon. Wanted to make daddy proud.”

“Unsuccessfully, I imagine?”

“He did better than his dad ever did but he relied too muchon brute strength, not enough on brains. Typical man.”

Klaus’ lips curl in amusement even as his eyes flare yellow,“And yet, this morning, your scent was all over him.”

Caroline meets his eyes defiantly, “Yeah, he’s kind of acuddler. Or was, I guess. And if you start some chest beating alpha male crap Iwill do my very best to throw you out that window.”

“Wouldn’t kill me,” Klaus notes casually. Caroline imaginedhe was pretty used to threats against his person.

“I don’t want to kill you. If I kill you I turn into araving lunatic, remember? I like my brain as it is, thanks.”

“I’m beginning to think I like your brain too, love.”

Caroline refuses to be charmed even if he seems like hemeans it. If he’s adept at spotting lies he must be equally capable of tellingthem. She narrows her eyes and straightens her posture. “I’m not going toapologize for any of the sex I’ve had. It kind of comes with the whole werewolfthing, certain itches just don’t go away. My position in the pack means myoptions are limited. I didn’t love Tyler. We haven’t even been friends for avery long time. But he could pretty reliably get the job done and didn’t getclingy.”

“You didn’t hold his attempt to usurp you against him?”

“I had gotten over it. I get that grief can mess a personup. I’ve been hearing whispers that he’d been gearing up for another shotthough so you might have done me a favor.”

Klaus raises an eyebrow, “And yet you still invited him intoyour bed?”

“How much closer can an enemy get?” Caroline asks sweetly.

He smiles, a gleam of something like admiration in his eyes.“I see. And I’m happy to have help.”

He’s drawn closer throughout the conversation and Carolinebites back a gasp as he sidesteps her chair, placing himself behind her. A handrests on her shoulder when she would have turned, lightly, he’s not holding herdown. Klaus ducks low to whisper, “Easy. I won’t hurt you, Caroline.”

Caroline’s body eases and she curses her heritage becausesurely her long line of werewolf ancestors was the only reason she believedhim. Mates were rare, miraculous, she’d always been taught. A gift to becherished if you were lucky enough to find it.

With him touching her she almost believes that.

“Why wouldn’t you meet with me?” he asks, thumb idlystroking the top of her spine. “I was most cordial in my inquiries.”

Caroline would roll her eyes if she wasn’t so intent on notleaning further into his hands. “I had a pretty good idea of what you wanted.”

“Did you?”

“Louisiana, Mississippi, Arkansas,” she recites. A briefpause of his hands is the only indication she might have surprised him. Heresumes his gentle exploration and she continues, giving in to the urge to rollher head forward and bare more of her skin. “Hayley Marshall is a snake and wasonly too happy to come and whisper in my ear. I doubled the money you gaveher.”

“Funny, I thought a Queen would be above such petty backdealing,” Klaus mutters. Caroline barely hears him because he’s begun to unpinher hair, his fingers carefully unraveling her curls until they brush hershoulders.

She should stophim.

She doesn’t.

Caroline clears her throat, wills her voice not to shake,“Hayley’s pack is… odd. But they don’t bother us so we let them have their tinypiece of land, their silly titles, because she’s occasionally useful.”

“Tell me, does she expect you to bow, curtsey?”

“I’d rip her throat out if she did.”

He makes a small noise, rich with mirth and somehow fond. “Ioffered her the opportunity to be a hybrid.”

“Offered?” Caroline echoes incredulously. “Is that what you’re calling it? Becauseforced was the term I’ve heard used most often.”

Klaus doesn’t seem offended and his reply is even. “I’mtrying something a bit different. Call it a new leaf. Hayley declined my offer.Seemed rather repulsed by the idea of becoming a half-breed.”

Well, that was tactless. Caroline couldn’t say she wassurprised, however. “Werewolves have hated vampires since the birth of yourspecies. That’s not something that can be easily set aside.”

“So if I were to offer your pack the same choice?” Klausasks and Caroline’s not fooled by the casualness of the query. There’s a lot ofweight in such a small question.

The connection between them had been instantaneous, a sharpnew awareness. It hummed in the back of her mind and his fingers brushed herskin were making her feel warm and lit up from within. She feels attuned to hismovements even though her eyes are closed, the thread between them thickening. Ifhe hadn’t taken the initiative to touch her she’d have snapped and asked himto. His idle caresses are soothing her nerves and Caroline’s never one to beeasily calmed. That more than anything convinces her that she’s stuck with him.If this wasn’t real why else would she feel so safe in a monster’s hands?

If she’s stuck with him, he’s just as stuck with her.  If she dies he goes insane be it tomorrow orin sixty or seventy years at the end of her natural life.

Caroline doesn’t even want to think about what that would look like.

“In my pack I doubt you’d find many willing. We’ve held ourterritory for generations and vampires have never been welcome.”

“I’m aware.”

“Killing Tyler will endear you to a few, make you an enemyof others. Though I’m sure a few more of those won’t make much difference toyou. No one will look kindly on the fact that you showed up and got immediatelymurder-y.”

Klaus nods, accepting. “And you? Could you be convinced?”

That’s the big question. Her knee jerk reaction should be afirm, ‘Hell, no’ but Caroline finds that’s not the case.

She suspects she couldbe convinced.

She pushes her chair back, rises so they’re face to face. Shesquares her shoulders and lifts her chin. Her next words will change her lifeirrevocably but she’s not afraid.  Caroline’sno stranger to deals, excels at negotiations. She might never have attemptedanything with stakes this high but she still plans on coming out ahead. “If you mean what you say, that you don’tintend to force my pack to turn into hybrids, then maybe. I need you to show methat I can trust you.”

Klaus takes her hand, tugs it up to his lips, eyes gleamingwith heat and triumph. He brushes a kiss across the inside of her wrist and theshiver that wracks her frame is impossible to hide. It had only been a tinyhint of a kiss but it felt like a promise. “For you, Caroline for what we couldbe, I’ll do my very best.”

That will have to be good enough.

[sunlitbarbie]

READY

TW: Loss of mother, feels.

Emery had made her way back into her room fairly suddenly. She’d been eating lunch and then her stomach had just turned. She hadn’t exactly had much of an appetite lately, and the asylum food certainly wasn’t really helping that. But today, she just felt different. From the moment she’d gotten out of bed she felt sluggish and as if she was half a person. She hadn’t really even wanted to get out of bed.

However, against her better judgement, she’d gotten out of bed anyway and tried to act as if she was somewhat normal. But she wasn’t. Everything was finally catching up with her. It’d taken about a week and a half for distraction to stop working as a method to escape the pain and heartbreaking reality of her mother’s death.

After throwing up the scant bits of food that she had ended up eating, she had decided the best way to distract herself was to unpack her things. For what she now recognized as the reason that her father was one of the doctors here, all of her things had been gathered up and packed into boxes. Not all of it was still intact, but she had noticed that there’d been quite the effort made in order to make her comfortable.

Her room was just the slightest bit bigger than everyone else’s. She knew that by talking to a few other asylum patients. Her bed was definitely not something to be expected in an asylum. And obviously an effort had been put in to make her comfortable. None of it had added up. It didn’t make sense to her, why she’d be treated different. But when she’d read her file, she knew there was a reason for the actions. She was the daughter of a doctor, or scientist, whatever they considered themselves here. She was a Henderson in technicalities.

Her hand dipped down into the box, picking out a trinket she’d had on her dresser. Some of the glass ones she’d had were broken at the time, she had to be careful near the bottoms of the boxes, she’d already nicked her hand once on some broken glass trinket. The blonde set the trinket down on the shelf before moving on to unload a few more things from the box. As soon as she got the boxes out of the room, the happier she’d be.

It was easy to tell which boxes had come from what. These ones were from her dresser and based on the few photo frames, including a picture of her in her graduation gown with a friend or two from the school she graduated, and a picture of her and Ranger she could guess they’d taken the photos from the wall. She was just glad that they hadn’t been broken somehow. The last thing she wanted was to lose the few good memories she had. She doubted she’d be getting anymore anytime soon.

One more box. She unfolded the bottom flaps of the box and flattened it out, placing it on top of the pile. The more she unloaded, the more it looked like her old room. It was all just a façade though. She knew as much. It wasn’t really as homey as it appeared, because at the end of the day no matter how decorated the walls were, they were still the walls of an asylum, where she was surrounded by a variety of supernatural creatures that would probably tear her throat out as soon as they would look at her or even speak to her. She already had tried to collect information about the species, and so far the angels and faes might have been the only people who might not want her dead.

Though she was sure even that could be quickly rearranged opinion wise if they found out who her father was. One of the downsides of being just a necromancer was that she was pretty much human. She could be hurt. She could be tortured and she could be killed. And the worse part was that there wasn’t much she could do about it besides rely on other people to try and protect her from herself.

It made her feel helpless. Between her father’s obvious commissioning of the guards to keep an eye on her and Gabe agreeing to protect her, she already felt like she was risking other people for her own life, which she didn’t think was worth that much. The guards had killed her mother, sure. But they had families outside of here she was sure, and as much as she hated them, seeing the tortured spirits as well as feeling the pain of being left behind by her own dead mother played her humanity enough so she didn’t want to see any of the guards lethally injured.

She knew at some point she’d have to learn how to defend herself, with some basic defense techniques she just had to find someone who could teach how to do that. She wasn’t sure who would though. If anyone found who her family really was, she was definitely going to need those defense techniques. And maybe a wooden stake with some holy water. Gabe had already advised her to get vervain.

That was probably a good idea. Considering she was mostly human, she was just about a walking bloodbag to the vampires. She didn’t like that idea, and truth be told there weren’t many creatures she felt comfortable around. She had made some friends, but for the most part, she almost felt like she was just waiting to be hurt, a sitting duck pretty much.

The blonde lifted the next box onto the bed, opening it. It was a few more pictures. The first one she took out of course was one of her and her mother. She had to stop then and there. After letting out a quiet sigh, she sat down on the bed and looked down at the picture. Just like that she knew why she was feeling so miserable. The curtain was finally lifting from her brain and it was growing harder to ignore the fact her mother was gone.

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to keep the rush of guilt and misery from flooding her. It was difficult to hold it back with no present distraction. No mission to find her file, no Gabe there to keep her mind off things. It was just her, her and the hollow feeling in her chest. It felt like she was missing a piece of herself, and she was.

Throughout her whole life, she’d never settled down, never developed roots. There’d been one person and only one person who she’d ever really had as a best friend, the one person who understood her. She’d never made any real friends, moving around so much made it impossible. Being on the run made it impossible. She’d relied on one person and one person only.

Lines of concentration etched in her ordinarily smooth features. She was concentrating on not letting her emotions overwhelm her. It was not an easy task. There were so many things that had branched as a result of her mother’s death. There was confusion because of being trapped here and learning about who her father was. Guilt because she’d denied her mother’s request that resulted in her mother dying for absolutely nothing. And sadness because the one person in the world that she’d had was now gone, and she was just about alone.

The emotions were like a tidal wave, quickly washing her over, taking their toll. She was overwhelmed by them all, and felt like she was drowning. It wasn’t too long before the tears started forming. It didn’t matter how much she wanted to push it all back past the curtain, she couldn’t anymore. The curtain had been torn down and washed away by the tidal wave.

She clutched the picture frame to her chest for a few moments, trying to deal with all the emotions as she broke into her fit of sobs. And just as quickly as she’d been okay, she was lost in the sea, finding herself meeting every version of her feelings. The guilt. The grief. The confusion. Then a more surprising one. Rage.

“It’s not fair,” she howled to nothing at particular. What kind of twisted world was it where she could see the dead but the one person she wanted to she couldn’t even see. The blonde looked down at the photo. It was one of when she was younger. When they’d lived on the backroads of a small town. She’d been six, and her mother had taught her to ride a bike without her training wheels.

~~

“I’m not getting on the bike unless you promise you’re not going to let me go,” she huffed. The people at school had warned her that their parents had done similar things to her.

“I won’t, I promise, come on now,” her mother coaxed, an amused tone in her voice that told her that she thought her daughter’s stubborn nature was amusing. After a few more stubborn moments to prove her point, Emery got on the bike. It was a used bike. They’d gotten it at a yard sale. A lot of their stuff was from yard sales. They usually left so quickly they never had time to leave properly and bring all their things with them. They usually compensated by trolling furniture and garage sales upon returning.

Her mother’s hands rested on the back of the seat. It was only then that Emery placed her feet on the pedals of the bike. She began pushing at a steady pace, just as she would have done if she still had her training wheels. It was different, she could feel the weight shifting on either side of the bike, making her bike move with an unsteady pattern. But her mom held her up, walking along with her.

She felt the grip lightening up, felt the unsteadiness becoming more evident. “Don’t let go!” She quickly protested, almost certain if her mother let go she’d fall in a matter of minutes.

“You’re ready sweetheart,” her mother coaxed in the same gentle and soothing voice.

“I’m not ready! I’m not! Don’t let go mommy, don’t!” She almost started crying, out of fear of her mother letting her go, and fear of falling. “Yes you are,” that was when the steadying was gone completely. The bike swerved a little at first, but she quickly got the hang of it. Maybe she’d been ready after all.

~~

‘Yes you are.’

The words echoed in her mind and she quickly whipped the photo at the wall. She wasn’t strong but in this overwhelming sea of emotions she quickly found herself being able to wing the photo hard enough that when it contacted the wall, the glass shattered, the frame cracking. The cacophony of noise was highlighted by the sound of the shards shattering on the floor.

“No I’m not!” She screamed as if the photo was her mother. In a way it was. It was a piece of her. “I wasn’t ready!” There was an evident strain in her voice from just how emotional she was.

“I wasn’t ready and you left me! You left me all alone. You left me to deal with all the pieces that you didn’t pick up!” Each word was spit out, screamed at the black walls. She took out another photo. This one was from her graduation.

~~

“You’re graduating. You’re so beautiful, so strong. So confident. I couldn’t have asked for a better daughter. I am so proud of you,” her words brought a smile to my lips. There’d been some rough spots, ones that had been mainly caused by all the moving, but at least she’d finally made it. She was proud of that. And she was glad her mother recognized that.

“You’re not going to get all sappy on me now are you mom?” Emery asked with a slight grin. She knew emotions were running high for the both of them. For Emery, it was because she’d closed a chapter in her life. High school was finished, and she’d made it.

“I might, just ignore any tears. It’s just hard to see you all grown up, knowing you’re not going to need me anymore,” her mother dabbed at her cheeks lightly with a bunched up Kleenex. She’d been doing that all day. Her eyes were bloodshot and her skin was blotchy from all the crying that’d happened during the day.

“I’m always going to need you mom,” Emery said. She quickly stepped towards her mother, extending her arms and wrapping them around her mother, hugging her tightly as if it would show how close she’d always hold her, despite the strains in their relationship, her mother was her rock.

~~

‘I’m always going to need you mom.’

She whipped that picture at the wall too. A scream of pure agony, as if she’d experienced the worse torture possible left her lips. In a way she had. She’d lost her mother. Out of all the people she’d been forced to let go of, she never wanted her mother to be one of them. “I needed you and you left me! How could you leave me?” She was losing her rage slowly, it was burning off with each flickering memory that played through her mind. Eventually she was on the last picture she had of her mother.

This one was of her and Ranger. Most of the rage had simmered. She sunk down against the wall, clutching the photo to her chest as she sobbed, each sob powerful enough to rack her tiny body. “Why does everyone leave me? Why did you leave me mommy?” She whispered the words, sounding every bit as broken as she was.

“Why’d you have to leave me alone?” Emery’s voice was barely a whisper as she clutched onto that photo for dear life, completely dissolving into the wrecked mess she was. “I wasn’t ready,” she murmured similar things over, constantly like a prayer, as if somehow the words would bring her mother back.

“Yes you are,” the words were broken, fragmented pieces of a sentence, like a cold breeze that had washed over her. The same words that her mother had said to Emery when she’d ridden off on the bike.

[wildlyhardphilosopher-blog]

tips on potty training | how to train my puppy to roll over

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tips on potty training | how to train my puppy to roll over

KOMO Cams Food & Recipes ATD is a non-profit 501c3 and all donations are tax deductible. 262-542-8851 [email protected] Save up to $70.00 Starting at $24.95 $29.95 $24.95–$29.95 Flyball 2 Doreen Tovey Course Categories Edina, MN 55439 Proponents of limiting drilling in Colorado say contractor wrongfully took at least 15,000 petition signatures Therefore, high quality food results in your dog producing fewer stools each day which is obviously ideal when house training. Pond Care I feel I must crate her or tether her after 30 minutes of freedom.  When I tethered her to me the other day, she peed 45 minutes after elimination (I thought she was being a good girl sitting, so I didn’t catch her before she finished).  I am not certain if I am making the situation worse taking her out every 45 minutes to an hour (does she pee to get a reward and thus not learn to hold it longer?)  On the other hand, it seems unreasonable to put her in the crate after only 30 minutes of freedom.  Since I don’t pick up on her signals when she’s tethered to me, I don’t trust that method.  I have kept daily records from day one and the only patterns I can see is that she had accidents often enough at 45-60 minutes following elimination that I can’t expect her to hold it longer and that I MUST regulate her water intake.  I don’t understand why she rarely rings the bell to go outside to pee, but she has a high rate of ringing the bell to let me know to poop–doesn’t it make more sense that the more opportunities she has to practice ringing the bell to go outside to pee (and get a reward), she should have learned that behavior before she learned to ring the bell to let me know she’s got to poop?  Guest Commentary: Save Red Rocks from the plague of development Do not play with or talk to your puppy until she has done her business. Instead, cue her to pee using the same word or words. Could just be “go pee” or something like this North Boulder Park, Boulder CO CAMPS However, I’ve purposely made this ‘how-to‘ guide as complete and standalone as possible, so reading the previous articles isn’t essential. May 28, 2018 at 1:13 pm How To Use a Dog Crate – When and When NOT To Crate Your Dog JW Pet A Litter tray is easy to clean with highly absorbent litter soaking up the waste and the high sides of the tray doing a good job of keeping everything contained. It also looks better than a spread of newspapers.

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fbq('track', 'ViewContent', content_ids: 'dogtraining.dknol', ); Not Helpful 40 Helpful 71 Product & Services Training Click here for my free and detailed guide to crate training your puppy. As your puppy’s head moves up, her rear end will lower towards the floor About Jolanta Benal, CPDT-KA, CBCC-KA Wesco Pet Opinion Most importantly, this book will show you how to teach your puppy to respect you so that he actually does what you say. You can download the book immediately, or have the printed book sent to you in the mail. Introduce a cue word. To encourage toileting on command it doesn’t take much extra work to introduce a word while your dog is urinating or defecating. So when your dog starts toileting say ‘wee wee’ or whistle (or introduce a hand signal) so that the behavior is paired with a command. This means on those cold wintery nights, or during toilet breaks on long road trips you have a way to quickly get your dog to urinate/defecate on command. Place it on your puppy when you feed him or as you are playing, this provides a bit of a distraction from the collar. He’ll probably roll around trying to dislodge it, or try his best to scratch it off. When he is doing this it is important that you don’t take it off him. Wait till he has settled down and forgotten about it before you take it off. If you do not respond properly….. well, unfortunately that’s why so many teenage dogs are turned over to rescue groups and animal shelters. Golden Retrievers TagWorks The Boxer Your dog wants to have more of what he likes and less of what he doesn’t like (don’t we all?). GETTY IMAGESKITTI PHNGS HMGN PHRM SAEN / EYEEM We just love the fact we can go to Prevention is worth an ounce of cure. That’s why it’s a good idea to stick to a limited “roaming-free” schedule, meaning that you will only let your puppy roam free for about 20-45 minutes before putting them back in their “no mistake” zone. This also gives a puppy parent a break to go back doing other things without worrying about what their puppy is up to. Pin Slumber Party May 4, 2016 Rockaway Park, Rockaway Beach, Breezy Point, Queens South, Bayside, Forest Hills, Woodside, Maspeth, Glendale, Ridgewood, Howard Beach, Whitestone, Douglaston, Belle harbor, College Point How to Potty Train a Dog with an Unfenced Yard Military Breeding Do You Kiss Your Dog? After a few days, you should start noticing patterns in your dog’s elimination, and will begin to recognize his pre-elimination behaviors. You will see how many times a day, on average, he needs to go potty. Note approximately how many times he needs to urinate and defecate each day. Use this information to create an elimination schedule that will benefit all family members (two and four-legged!). So, set up a chair outside, wait for a scheduled potty time, go outside with them, have them on leash so they cannot wander off and just sit and wait. Play with your phone a while, or read the newspaper. Just wait. 10, 15, 25 minutes, who knows how long, just wait, but your puppy WILL have to wee at some point. You want to make sure it’s outside and you’re right there with them. How Long After Eating Do Small Puppies Have to Go to the Bathroom? Exclusions apply. Offer expires 8/1/18. BUNDLED PACKAGES Air Pumps & Airstones Outdoor Bird Baths ^ Jump up to: a b Marlo 1999, p. 101. the vet for even the simplest of Every dog owner needs a good pooper scooper to pick up after their pup when they go for a walk around town. Of all the scoopers we researched, the Bodhi Dog Complete Poo Pack is our top pick. With rolls of bags and a clip-on bag holder included, you have everything you need in one kit. 1 of 2 The Principles of Dog Training Here’s the trick to a clean poo pickup… turn the bag inside out, place your hand inside and grab the poo. Fold the sides of the bag up around the poo, turning it right side out, and tie the bag tightly. That wasn’t so bad, was it? Cat advice Help us build a new shelter! September 25, 2013 3:53 pm My Account Grooming Salon Expert Dog & Puppy Training Hi Amanda, After your puppy has these steps down, try the same setup with a family member on the couch or bed: Deciding when to exercise, train and play with your puppy is entirely up to you. You should fit it around your lifestyle and commitments, but try to make it the same times each day if you can. Lisa Smith says The term “observational learning” encompasses several closely related concepts: allelomimetic behavior or mimicking where, for example, puppies follow or copy others of their kind; social facilitation where the presence of another dog causes an increase in the intensity of a behavior; and local enhancement which includes pieces of social facilitation, mimicking, and trial-and-error learning, but is different from true observational learning in that the dog actively participates in the behavior in the presence of the other dog and/or other environmental cues.[53] Four necessary conditions for observational learning are: attention, retention, motivation, and production. That is, the dog must pay attention to the dog or person performing the modelled behavior; retain the information gathered about the behavior during the observation; be motivated to reproduce the behavior in a time and place removed from the original; and finally, produce the behavior, or some reasonable facsimile thereof.[53] As soon as the poop/pee is complete, immediately praise him, quickly give him several treats and then play. Be civil Starter Kits Location Example: New York, NY Maximum of 255 characters. Autocomplete available, press the down arrow to hear options ✔ ✘ Humane Education Fund Charities and Organizations If your dog is having trouble with one specific aspect of potty training, make sure you focus in on that aspect and reinforce good behavior when he does get it right. You’ll have a different word like ‘walkies‘ for other more fun times outside and your dog will eventually learn the difference and set their expectations of their time outside accordingly. 10 Most Popular Dog Breeds Hill’s® Prescription Diet® w/d® Canine Perches & Swings Drives & Instincts How do you potty train a dog in an apartment? Avoid getting the puppy over-excited. If he starts biting and doesn’t respond to a squeal (to tell him it hurts) then get up and leave the room. Only return when the puppy is quiet. Alternatively, play in 15 second bursts with a calm-down period of a few seconds in-between, so that he doesn’t lose all control. 360 61024 Puppy of Achievement But certainly by 16 weeks old your puppy will be able to last a 7 hour night without needing to potty if you do not feed them for 3 hours or provide water for 2 hours before bed time and allow them to empty themselves right before you lay down for the night. Top customer reviews Fun Nose Work Other ways to help How to Potty Train a Small Dog or Puppy in a Big Home Pointing Breeds From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia DAYCARE First, prevent the situation from happening by interrupting the biting behavior and redirecting your puppy’s attention to something more acceptable to chew on. Stand up and be still. Pause a few moments, and then hand your puppy a chew toy instead. Featured: Sidedoor: A Smithsonian Podcast June 15 2018 i Read the original article on Insider Picks. Copyright 2018. Follow Insider Picks on Twitter. our career opportunities (Send on your own) Home Dogs Getting Started How to Toilet Train Your Puppy in 3 Days Tip #1: Train Yourself First Google Labrador Facts & Fun64 Top Dog Names of 2016 Aggressive about food Humane Investigations It is also important that the family is involved in the training. By having different people taking part in the socialization process, the puppy is continuously taken out of its comfort zone, letting the puppy know that he might experience something new regardless of who he’s with. To answer question 1) I’m afraid you can’t! Unless you are there to supervise, you cannot prevent a puppy shredding paper or pads, it’s just something they LOVE to do. Do you use a pad holder? This tends to help because they find it harder to get hold of the pad. If still successful, secure the pad into the holder so they cannot take it out. You can also spray bitter tasting chew deterrent around the edges of the pad so she finds it distasteful. JW Pet I recommend you only use method 2 if you know you will have to leave your puppy for more than an hour or so in the first three months of his life, on a regular basis. Cat litter, dog litter, wild bird food, live & frozen food and oversized items may incur an additional per-item shipping & handling fee or surcharge. Additional fees may apply and will be noted on the Product Detail page and/or Shopping Cart. Leash We have a 6 month pup and he’s slowly getting the toilet thing. My husband works from home and we have been following the supervision regime with a doggie door too. He has now not toileted in the room and kitchen that he is kept in for a couple of weeks but I’m wondering how to expand this ( he will pee or poo in any other room/stairs/hall!). Is it just a case of sitting in these rooms/stairs/hall with him too. Thanks! Reservations This site was built with love and integrity by: Aldebaran Web Design Petrainer 998DBB Remote Controlled Dog Training Collar System, 1 count Start with a new toy and a few treats staged inside the crate with the door propped open. Bring your puppy over to her new crate with an established favorite toy. Toss the toy into the crate with the others. Long Lake, MN 55356 Gigi Moss Dog Training is Positive Training Learn More Confine Your Puppy And Use Paper training The American Kennel Club’s Canine Good Citizenship certificate is recognized as the standard for dog behavior and awards dogs with good manners. This class is for dogs 8 months and up and continues working on basic cues in a more distracting and challenging environment. Training goes “on the road” as we navigate around campus while performing known cues. Each week, we’ll introduce and practice two new Canine Good Citizen skills, for a total of ten skills. Week six culminates with the Canine Good Citizen Test, and dogs passing the test receive the Canine Good Citizenship certificate. Take your dog to the spot on a regular schedule. Take your dog to the bathroom mat on a strict schedule, just as you would if you were training your dog to go to a spot outside. Frequently walk him to the mat throughout the day and each time he shows signs of needing to relieve himself. By Mara Bovsun | Sponsored by Purina® Pro Plan® Facebook Credit: Illustration by Barbara Frake Puppy Leaks is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to Amazon.com puppy training how to | how to stop puppy barking puppy training how to | puppy barking at me puppy training how to | how to train puppy not to bark Legal | Sitemap

[alittleredpanda]

A couple of weeks ago I journeyed to London, with thousands of others, for this year’s Rezzed, the video game show with a huge indie presence. This is the third year I’ve attended the smaller EGX event, situated in the unique and atmospheric Tobacco Dock, and each year I have seen more and more alternative and stylish indie games, exactly the kind of games I like to play. Every year that I wonder if I will fill all three days of the show, and every year I still manage to miss so much! So here I would like to share with you my highlights of Rezzed. This isn’t everything I enjoyed at Rezzed, I honestly loved almost everything I played there, but I can only write about so much.

Ruby Rei (Available now on iOS and Android)

http://www.wibbu.com/ruby-rei/

Ruby Rei is an adventure game, created to help players learn Spanish and Portuguese. Ruby crashes onto a planet and has to create relationships and solve problems through speech, and so you learn phrases and sentence structure as opposed to key words. And from the demo I played, it appears you learn through trial and error as you choose what Ruby says. As so many people claim to learn foreign languages through TV shows and film, this seems like a great way of exploiting that method and giving it more structure. As someone who did GCSE Spanish and since can’t remember much, I definitely want to give Ruby Rei a proper play through, and explore the beautiful and brightly coloured planet she lands on.

AereA (Summer 2017 on PS4, Xbox One and Steam)

http://www.aerea-game.com/

A RPG adventure with a twist; the characters use music to defeat their enemies. From what I played, I’m not terribly sure what the game is about, but I loved the effect of using a cello to attack and the notes coming from it. It also seems to be following Yooka Laylee and a number of other games in their next stage of retro revival; it’s a lovely throwback to the first 3D games, the beautifully bright adventures like Spyro and Super Mario 64.

Ruya (coming soon on Window,s iOS and Android)

http://www.miracleteastudios.com/press/ruyapresskit/

A gorgeous little puzzle game, Ruya was a relaxing respite from the hustle and bustle of the show floor. It’s designed to be meaningful to evoke personal reactions, but ambiguous to avoid alienating players. I’m always playing puzzle games on my phone, and I especially love ones like this, so obviously crafted with care and attention, with an interesting narrative woven throughout. Also they had a super cute plushie of their main character who they let me take a picture with.

Knights and Bikes (2017 on Windows, Mac, Linux, and PS4)

http://foamswordgames.com/#knights

Set on a fictional island off the coast of Cornwall, Knights and Bikes is a very beautiful game, telling the tale of two girls in the 80s, exploring and getting into trouble. The world just seems so crazy, in the demo I encountered a library on fire and flaming swords which had to be doused by water balloons. According to their website, the location was chosen because of the myths and legends associated with the area, it’s deep with tradition and historically proud people, but it’s also a tourist attraction, with self-parodying arcades and mini golf.  I grew up on the coast of North Devon, so I fully relate to this. A nice little addition I noticed, was that the characters suffer from asthma, so they tire if they cycle for too long. This isn’t a new mechanic by any stretch, but I felt it was a great way of including something I have never seen in video games before

 Ooblets (mid 2018 on Windows and Xbox One)

https://ooblets.com

A cute little game, a cross between Pokemon and Animal Crossing in which you arrive at a new town and are given your first ooblet. You then move into your farmhouse, start growing crops and explore the surrounding area, fighting wild ooblets which reward you with seeds to grow more. Make friends, join an ooblet club, have an awesome little farm. I love anything that allows you to create and decorate little houses, especially farmhouses (I’ve been told that I make every game into FarmVille), and I’ve been following the production of this game for a while. I was so excited to finally be able to play it, it’s just so soft and lovely.

It was actually next to Knights and Bikes, and while they’re both very unique and aesthetically wonderful, Knights and Bikes felt dangerous, like adventures were around every corner. But Ooblet’s soft world, and pastel colour scheme was relaxing, everything will be fine in Ooblet-land, and nothing can go wrong.

Blockships (Available now on Windows)

http://www.drdavient.com/blockships

Known as the illegitimate child of Space Invaders and Tetris, Blockships is a four player game where you make ships and blow each other up. It’s about keeping a fine balance between blasters, speed packs and energy cells, which are needed to power the other peripherals. It only takes a few minutes to learn, and rounds are over in minutes, meaning that it’s super quick and easy to jump in and play even if you’re completely new to it.

Giant Cop (Available now on Oculus for Windows, coming soon on Steam and PS4 VR)

http://www.giantcop.com/

VR was as popular as ever, although I think the shine has left it somewhat. I think consumers are wanting something more than just a first person game with a head set. Giant Cop is probably my favourite VR game so far, and I feel it takes full advantage of the tech and its peripherals. As the titular Giant Cop, you teleport around a beach town, finding those dang partying kids (marked by their love of cabbages) and throw them into the police station. I much prefer teleporting to the awkward, nauseating quick movement I’ve played in other VR games, and you can pick up anything in the world and throw it about. The paint cans were especially fun.

Takeaways from the weekend

Like I said, each year I attend has more and more exciting, beautiful games. I feel like games have reached a certain point with photorealism, and while AAA games are still pushing through uncanny valley, indie developers appear to have rejected this and are going for experimental styles instead. Additionally, with the likes of AereA and Yooka Laylee, there were so many cartoony, colourful third person adventure games. They’re so nostalgic, and to be expected as children of the nineties get older and draw inspiration from the games of their childhood.

All of the pictures have come from the games’ respective websites. The title image came from EGX’s official Instagram

[replicadesignerbags-blog]

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[delveintothemadness]

A letter to whom it may concern...

To whom ever I end up with in near or distant future,

Not to make it sound it sound like a bad thing, I'm sure you are great.

I thought I would write to you, whoever you are and let you know some pretty important details about the girl that could be or already is your girlfriend, so you know what to expect, unless you know already. Hopefully, whoever you are, you will find this, and you'll have a good chuckle, especially if you know me so well.

Okay, firstly you should know its always awkward for me to start conversations at first, and when I'm nervous, I ramble. I just hope you can hold a conversation and you're open to discussing anything. If you did this, you obviously made a good impression and made things very compforting for the first meeting, I'm always going to assume it was anything but boring to say the least.

I will also have this habit of being shy if you introduce me to any friends or family including anyone new to you or myself. Its nerves, completely normal but it will pass as a I get to know them. But please don't force me to chat or expect me to behave a certain way, I'd hope your friends and family will get to know me on their own terms where it doesn't feel pushed or forced- I'm sure they will like me on their own.

Once you get to know me I'm sure you will realise two things, I'm either tired or hungry. Most of the time, I'm tired. (It's a thyroid thing)...(Google it) so if tired, I have either taken my medication late, or its been a long day or night. So at some point if I yawn or fall asleep infront of you, its not that you are boring. Its more that I really needed a nap and couldn't keep my eyes open. We'd need to be outdoors doing something for me to actually not want to sleep. I'll still be tired, i just won't sleep.

You may also notice that I am usually weird about you paying for dinner, that I try and pay you or pay for part atleast. Please understand that, I just want to contribute too. I don't believe that every date has be paid by you all the time. I'm not that type of girl that expects everything to be paid for. I'd like to treat you also to dinner when we go out, both people should feel equally special and respected. So if I offer to pay or pay you back, please don't argue. I just wanna contribute when I can on dates.

*Whoever* I understand you will have your bad days, and I will be respectful of what you need in order to get passed whatever it is you are dealing with; whether it is me or work or life. I do hope that you understand that I'm not a person who enjoys or takes yelling or fighting very well, I'd rather talk it out or avoid at all costs. I hope you are patient, and you can remember that if I'm with you, I'm also finding a way to support or understand what you are dealing with. I won't however accept name calling, or being blamed for things that were or are out of my control. So if you've had a shit day at work or whatever it is, and you take it out on me.

I'd say don't bother coming home or over to me until you are in a better mood. I am however open to hearing what is bothering you if you can manage to talk. Remember, my role is to support and try and help where I can.

*Whoever* your eyes will probably wonder, and this is some thing most girls will freak out about. Mine probably will at times too if they are cute.

Yes, there will be moments where I will get jelous of a girl, jealousy is a curse of human emotions, we will feel it at some point in any given situation. I have learnt you can overcome jelously, it does pass if we know the person is with you for the right reasons, and if they are genuine to you, so obviously I trust you more than guys believe their girls do. So in short, I won't freak out about you checking out a persons rack or ass. I'm not gonna freak out about you liking an insta picture, or having girl mates, because I myself have girl and guy friends, I'd expect the same trust.

But if you can appriciate some random girls ass, and you know I've been killing myself with squats at the gym, remember to appriciate whats infront of you too.

I cant promise this with my breasts by the way, lets just hope your an ass person (not an ass.)

I'm weird, something that you may have already picked up. It's probably the thousandth time you've clarified. (Nothing you find off-putting of coarse.)

Just remember that I am either trying to play along, be funny or creative, if your the type of person who can play along even if you look like a dork too, I'm sure I will always appriciate your efforts. (Perhaps you are weirder than me.)

You probably know this already, but I am the hugest movie and music buff ever. Including horror movies. I hate romance and drama, you probably also know this. If you're gonna choose something on Netflix, don't stress. We avoid those two genres. Just please for the love of god, let me pick the film instead of asking me what i want to watch and not agree to it in the end. You might aswell just decide what we're going to watch.

Chances are if you like cars or know how to maintain one, you already know I'm going to tune out by the third word of that sentence or, not understand a single thing you are talking about. You have probably been let in on many stories about how I am the worst driver ever or, you've figured this out for yourself. I would probably not allow me to drive further than Calder park to get to the city, or at all.

If you like sport, thats okay, I'm not that sporty but, if you are to invite me to a game. I'll have fun. I wont understand whats happening but I'm happy to figure it out. Just make sure there's alcohol, if its during winter and they don't serve alcohol, make sure we bring alcohol.

If you're a gamer, same thing applies. Maybe not the alcohol part so much.

I'm just taking a guess about your interests, I don't know who this is going to be for.

But I'm probably going to drag you to stuff I enjoy anyway like; gigs, festivals, poetry slams and food truck festivals. Luckily for you all these places serve alcohol incase you want a drink and chill.

GoT Mondays are pretty important to me, I'm commited. I'm also commited to Walking Dead Wednesdays and Taco anydays. But if you like Game of Thrones, thats a relief, I won't need to battle you for the remote.

But you should know that its an intense experience where yelling occurs, kind of like how people are at the AFL when dickheads make some pretty bad calls. You will probably hear a lot of profanities, some that may seem unexpected from yours truely. Just remember to stay calm during that hour, maybe a little longer when the after shock occurs. If not calmed, wine or head tickles, if you provide either of these, you will send me to sleep and the day will seem much more peaceful. But you probably will figure this out on your own with your own methods to have a peaceful day after GoT.

Good luck during, please note that this is also any other series I get hooked on. If you know this already, I'm obviously very grateful.

Like any girl, I can be indecisive, but I just don't make a huge deal about it. If you ask what I want to eat and I say I'm not fazed. It literally means I'm not fazed. You are talking to someone who will eat any dish you put infront of her. If you really want an answer or input, always assume burritos or anything mexican, you'll always be right. And if i say I'm not hungry. I'm probably just tired so I'm not gonna steal your food, I'll likely take care of myself if I do get hungry; if you are snacking though, and you have a pack of MnM's or skittles in close reach, I will most likely take all the red or blue ones. I cant promise I won't, I'm sorry. Same goes for your BBQ shapes its a weakness..If I do this already and you haven't been fighting me for the red or blue MnM's then you must be the most patient person ever.

If I'm upset with you. There will probably be a brief time after a disagreement or if you are behaving like an asshole. Even if you don't find it to be a big deal. Remember the following, (if i met you, you probably have heard it before.) I'm not in your shoes, and you aren't in mine. We have different sets of brains and certain things will effect us differently. So if I'm upset, three things will help you, calm communication, understanding and a hug (When I'm upset, a hug usually helps). If I don't want to talk at the time, it means I just need down time to relax for a bit before talking, nothing is calm if a person is still upset. If you can manage calm communication and providing me with space if I dont want to discuss it yet, its usually the first step in the right direction. This is just incase it does happen, it's usually a rare thing if I'm with the right person. That will shine through. You don't want to date people who upset you so much.

Also, I hope you realize *whoever you are* I don't expect you to be perfect or have your shit together all the time because I certainly don't. I think the important thing is as long as you are happy, as long as you are healthy and honest with not just me, but yourself. That would be the only thing I care about. I'm sure I will love you no matter what.

With that being said, I hope you are the same with me, I hope you see that I'm not perfect, but I hope you know I try my absolute best and work as hard as I can to be the person I want to stive to become, even if its a bit crosswired and I'm all over the place. Even if I'm completely disorganized and a complete mess. I'm hoping I will have your support like you will have mine.

I guess what it all comes down to is, if I haven't me you, I'll see you soon. And if I have and you're reading this now, I'm glad I did.

[recentanimenews]

The Best Naruto Shippuden Fight Doesn't Include Naruto

  If you’ve ended up watching enough Naruto, you’ll begin to pick up on the overall style of the show. The way the characters look, how they animate, the specific colors used throughout the series, there’s a certain way that Naruto and Naruto Shippuden look through their combined first 300 episodes. On rare occasions, that style switches to help showcase a big fight, such as early on against Zabuza and Haku, Rock Lee vs. Gaara, and in Shippuden when the Leaf takes on Hidan and Kakuzu, Sasuke vs. Deidara, and others further in the series. This fluid animation style alters how the characters look and move, while also using more of a muted color scheme. Most notably, this is usually thanks in part to episodes that Hirofumi Suzuki worked on as the animation director.

  One episode that Suzuki worked on that sticks out by subverting the regular formula of Naruto is Episode 82 of Shippuden, "Team Ten." It’s not an episode that features any big fights, nor are there really any big conflicts between characters here. Instead, we see the inner turmoil that Shikamaru is facing following the death of Asuma. He’s skipping out on his funeral and just seems lost after the previous mission went horribly wrong. So, instead of creating another episode of Shippuden that is the same formula as everything else, Suzuki and the rest of the production staff decided to go in a different direction — one that is more likely to be seen on the big screen, rather than in television.

    Given the highly emotional aspects of where the story is, the episode does a lot to make you feel uncomfortable — to get you into the same headspace as Shikamaru — and at times almost makes the viewer seem like a voyeur. We’re essentially going through the same process as Shikamaru as we see him tell Kurenai about Asuma’s death, relay that to people in town, figure out his own emotions about what happened, and then come back from the brink and find a way to stand tall again.

  In order to truly get into Shikamaru’s mindset for this episode, the pacing slows to a halt. Everything is laborious and with a certain purpose to it. This is the kind of pacing and style you’d most likely see from a Naruto film or a more serious drama series rather than what you’d expect from a shonen series. It would be hard to pull off what this episode wants to force the viewer to witness if it was the same package that every other episode of Naruto Shippuden is. In order to pull viewers in and let them immediately know that something is wrong, you’ve got to disrupt their normalcy and their perception of what the series is.

    Throughout the episode, if you’re watching for the first time or just trying to pay attention to figure out what’s different, you’ll notice a few things. Most notable to me was the lack of camera movement. Shonen series and anything with action will rely on camera movement to make episodes have a fast pace to them. Instead, here we get only four shots that feature any sort of movement. Each one is incredibly slight as well. They’re not quick but are slow and subtle to where you can easily miss them. In fact, the first bit of camera movement doesn’t occur until nearly halfway through the episode, which seems striking for this series. Instead, we get a lot of cuts and shots that linger long enough that it begins to feel uncomfortable.

  One of the more striking shots in this episode is when Shikamaru and his father, Shikaku, play shogi together. There are cuts between the two as they begin to play, but then the camera goes to a side angle of the two playing and going back and forth with their moves. You’d think that eventually there would be cuts to each character as they place their moves and with Shikaku trying to tell Shikamaru why he shouldn’t beat himself up over what happened. Instead, the shot lingers. For two whole minutes. That’s not something that occurs in most series that are relegated to 24 minutes of air time. After all, camera cuts help keep the pace up and give viewers something new to look at. Yet, it fits the overall tone and style of this episode. You start to see Shikamaru’s emotions begin to get the better of him from this shot alone, and it’s able to tell that story in a better way than it would have if it was just the camera cutting between Shikamaru and Shikaku.

    That scene, and those two minutes spent looking at their shogi game, leads up to Shikamaru finally being able to break down. This brings up another strange aspect of this episode: This scene is the first time we hear any music in the episode and again, we’re nearly halfway through. Before, you’d hear a lot of natural sounds such as insects humming or the chatter of people in the streets as Shikamaru wanders through the town. Even with the addition of music for this brief instant, it’s again subtle and not overpowering. It’s another aspect of something that you could easily gloss over as it comes and goes very quickly. That might seem as if it doesn’t really fit the emotional nature of this scene given that Shikamaru begins to cry and wail in this room they were playing in, but it absolutely fits because the music is just giving the viewer the slight push to tell them this is emotional. That doesn’t need to overpower the scene when you’ve got a character letting out deep emotional pain at the same time.

  Perhaps this is why Suzuki and the rest of the production staff were tapped for this episode. Their style of animation that has worked so well for some of the biggest fights in the series works its magic for truly showing the emotional pain a character is going through. You’re able to see the pain and trauma rise up through Shikamaru’s face and then break through the levy as he’s finally able to let out all of his emotions and cry. His face distorts in realistic ways that wouldn’t have been the same if it was in the traditional animation or style. It’s the same kind of realistic expression that you would also have if you were in his situation, which of course is what the episode is trying to make you do. Become emotional and cry alongside Shikamaru.

    One of the biggest takeaways I had from this episode is how much Suzuki and the team’s style reminded me of Naoko Yamada’s way of directing. Yamada’s work on K-ON and specifically Liz and the Blue Bird are very similar to what we see in this episode. There’s a lot of lingering shots, little camera movement, and relying more on cuts to showcase what’s happening — and a soundtrack that isn’t overemphasizing what’s happening. You truly get to see what these characters go through, which is an aspect of directing that Yamada accentuates as she’s said she likes to “watch people” and “get into the minds of the characters.” Those are definitely part of what makes this episode of Naruto Shippuden work so well. You’re truly able to dive into Shikamaru and see what he’s going through, how he’s able to figure out what to do next, and then act upon it.

  The rest of the episode sees how Shikamaru is able to find an answer that gives him the drive to go out and finish the original mission and avenge Asuma. The pacing is still slow and methodical, but by the time we reach the end and Team Ten announces their plans to head out on their next mission while Tsunade tries to stop them, we begin to move back into the regular style of Shippuden as the music begins to take hold in a way you’d normally expect. In a way, this episode is able to pump the brakes on the whole pacing of the show, but then softly begins to accelerate by the end that lets you ease back into what you’d expect from the series.

    There’s truly no way you could do this kind of episode for a series as big as Naruto every week. Obviously it’d take too long to maintain this kind of quality for 500 episodes, so you’d have an episode a month at best, but also the charm of these subversions to the series would wear off rather quickly. Instead, you’d have fast-paced, action-packed episodes that would serve as that. “Team Ten” is a special episode and one that rewards people for sticking with the series as it lets you truly see everything from a different perspective, from pacing, style, character development, to storytelling. It’s hard to argue that this isn’t one of the absolute best parts of the series and should be recognized in the same way that the best fights of the series are.

  What are some of your favorite episodes that seem to try and shake up the status quo of Naruto? Let us know down in the comments below!

    Jared Clemons is a writer and podcaster for Seasonal Anime Checkup where he can be found always wanting to talk about Love Live! Sunshine!! or whatever else he's into at the moment. He can be found on Twitter @ragbag.

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com