#so i won't be selling her for that reason even though i washed it right away

[kah-way-loh]

The process of plushifying a 2005 Furby- under a read more so it doesn't clog the tag!

Firstly, I'd recommend starting with either FurbyTech or WalrusFurb's posts... or ideally both! These both give a better understanding of what a 2005 Furby looks like internally and how it's pieced together. My Furby, Pitaya, came to me broken to a severe degree and I didn't realize until I skinned her and plastic shards started falling out of her like confetti! Her fur was also stubborn, not wanting to come loose from the tabs all over... but I managed!

After the fur and feet are free, you can give them a wash. I opted to use a fursuit disinfectant spray instead since I already cleaned her in the past. I then sewed the feet to the main body with a ladder stitch after screwing the plastic of them together

Once you've removed the shells, you can work on taking out the eye mechanism. Since Pitaya was already so busted up, it took a short time to separate everything. Just a lot of screws to remove! And a lot of sharp plastic edges

[Image description: the blinking mechanism of a 2005 Furby, separate from the rest of the internal hardware. The eyes are open. End ID.]

Now, I don't like using hot glue or super glue. But for this, it was necessary to glue the lower eyelids in place to keep that structure from falling off. Aside from the now immobile lower lids, the rest of the eyes can still move freely!

Next was... the beak. Always my least favorite part of plushifying a Furby. I wanted to keep the mobility, so I created an armature with copper wire and set some cut toothpicks in place. Those didn't want to stay in place, so I, again, had no choice but to bust out the super glue and some beads

[Image descriptions: different angles of a 2005 Furby's beak with a handmade hinge mechanism made from copper wire, toothpicks, and wood beads. End ID.]

To attach that to the fur, I had to weave the same wire through the faceplate and the makeshift hinge. The smart way would be to use a heated tool to melt the holes in the plastic... I instead just jabbed an awl through and prayed it didn't break (PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO IT THE SMART WAY). While I was at it, I also did the same thing for the eyes and sewed some spare fabric over the back of the beak to keep stuffing from leaking through

[Image description: the inside-out fur of a 2005 Furby, with the handmade back mechanism attached and white fleece sewn over it. An extra wire on each side of the eye sockets has been pierced through the plastic faceplate. End ID.]

Now, I'm not sure if every 2005 has this, but Pitaya had a tab that held the fur to her face right above the beak, so I went ahead and used that as well as reinforced it with the wires. Without those wires the eyes would be very wobbly and not stay put

Finally I could flip her right side out, stuff her, and stitch her closed! Except I ran out of polyfill... so I'll leave her Velcro section open for now. But for the most part she's done!

[Image descriptions: a stuffed white and pink 2005 Passionfruit Furby. The first image has her eyes and beak closed, the second has her eyes open, the third has both her eyes and beak open, and the fourth is a profile view with her eyes and beak open. End ID.]

Okay so. Overall I absolutely love the end result, but the process was a 0/10 for me. I wouldn't do it again because 2005s are not easy to disassemble in the slightest and it was just a nightmare on my aching hands. I also probably did it in the most roundabout way to limit the amount of super glue I used (I'm sensitive to the smell of it) which added to the complication. Part of me wishes I actually sculpted or at least covered the beak, but I knew I was going to have a hard enough time with it so I didn't bother. For what it's worth, she still looks like a normal 2005 aside from the lumpy stuffing! I need to get more soon for other projects anyway

Feel free to try this if you're ambitious and committed enough, and try finding your own ways to make it easier!

[sortasirius]

"Ghost of a Second Chance" and the Haunting of Eddie Diaz

Okay I finally have some semblance of cohesive thoughts on this episode, so here goes.

Long ass post below:

First of all, the stalker/kidnapping situation was, in fact, harrowing. 911 always knows how to pull off a good twist, I had no inkling that she HADN'T been kidnapped by her husband until Athena figured it out.

The theme of this whole post is, essentially, that I love the way 911 handles past trauma. It's messy and difficult and often not a linear path to healing. We see that with Maddie and with Eddie in this episode in particular, with foreshadowing for Bobby as well.

Sorry I just love seeing them work a call, like these are my emotional support firefighters <3

I'm also loving this arc with Hen and Karen, they're such good parents and are fighting so hard for Mara. And to have Denny be the one she talks to first? To have him be the one that she opens up to? They've raised him so so so well.

Chris is the best and I love him.

And so...Eddie.

"Not too late. We can turn around and leave her now."

Yeah alright, throwaway line meant to be a joke. Sure. But we really don't know Marisol like that. We haven't spent enough time with her to know that he doesn't actually feel this way. Hell, the last time we had a scene with her he was asking her to move out and grinning from ear to ear when she agreed. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to understand that...he's just not that into her.

And here we are, with Chris and Marisol walking ahead of him, and Eddie looking into a store to see Shannon's literal doppleganger folding some shirts.

Immediately, we get scenes of them together. Laughing, kissing, looking at one another, but there are a few things that I find interesting here, first and foremost how these shots are colored.

They're washed out, not fully black and white, but sort of greyscale. I saw someone else talk about how they're colored this way because Eddie doesn't remember them clearly anymore, and I have latched onto this, it makes perfect sense.

I do think part of him is terrified of losing these memories, clinging to them in a way, and seeing this woman in the store sort of brought them all to the surface, giving him something to almost cling to.

"You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Yeah haha, just saw the double of my dead wife in the store, no biggie.

I have to laugh.

When Maddie realizes that Catherine never told her that she was with her husband, you can really tell that this call is dragging up a lot for her, which goes back to my point on how well this show portrays non-linear healing. Even though she left Doug in the woods and moved on with her life, even though she has Jee and fought her PPD and won, even though she's married to Chimney, a part of her will always look over her shoulder expecting to see him there. She's come such a long way, but trauma like that doesn't just go away, it's something that she'll battle forever.

I'm also loving the look into the broken foster system for Hen and Karen. They want to do right by Mara, but how can they when they're not given all the information, when they weren't told about Tyson because Deirdre wasn't allowed to tell them?

I loved Amir's scene with Maddie and I'm DEPRESSED that he's going to try and kill the love of my life Bobby.

Eddie just LURKING outside this store to see mirror Shannon...boy...

Sorry but the "do you trust me?" YOU'RE SELLING HIM A CANDLE GIRL HE DOESN'T KNOW YOU.

"Well then you have no reason not to trust me." Spoken like a true serial killer lmfao.

Unfortunately Eddie Diaz is in the depths of delusion and this corny line worked on him.

You have to admit it is so fucking funny that he's on the brink of cheating with a sales associate trying to sell him an ugly ass keychain who looks like his dead wife who asked him for a divorce approximately 37 seconds before she died. Like that is peak comedy and I won't pretend otherwise.

"It's me, your husband?" Chim I know you say this to Maddie 400 times a day and I love you for it.

"Tell me about the woman in the passenger seat of that car."

He's so open with her, so unafraid to see her as she is, the good and the scary, and he loves her anyway, just as she loves him. Sorry I'm just emo about them.

I genuinely could not tell the difference between blonde Shannon and bangs Shannon. I had a meltdown through that entire scene thinking that he was fucking Kim. But it's fine because he was just fantasizing about fucking his dead wife while carrying a conversation with his girlfriend.

Eddie Diaz let me study you.

I find this idea so fascinating, the way he’s clearly looking at their relationship with rose colored glasses, how he remembers the positives only, not the fights, not the arguments, not the fact that he ran away from her twice when he enlisted in the army. He only remembers the good sex, the smiles, the laughter, even though that was a tiny part of their relationship, nearly negligible at times.

This isn’t the first time Eddie’s done this either, he’s talked before about how their relationship was “magic” when it definitely wasn’t.

Overall, I find this a really interesting look into grief, into how we remember the best parts of people we loved, how we can be so willing to forget the things that didn’t work, the anger and the fights.

Eddie has never really dealt with Shannon's death, he’s pushed it to the side for Chris, keeps going even when he feels like he’s going to break apart. And now it seems like it's finally caught up with him, like meeting Kim tore it all open again, and he's haunted by Shannon again, by his guilt for how it ended and what he wished he had done differently.

OBSESSED with Buck tackling this guy like yes himbo king use those football skills.

AND Dad reflexes Chim I truly am living.

I feel like Vincent has no idea that she brought Tyson to see Mara, and I feel like that will come back into play later.

Domestic Buddie and Chris scene <3

Look not to be a total shill for Buddie (who am I kidding we all know what I am) but there's something so...weirdly intimate about Eddie just knowing their pizza order. And it's their order, not just Buck's, like Eddie would be joining them if he wasn't meeting "Marisol."

They are seriously family shaped and I love them.

Jee and Chim and Maddie GOD I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

Now, for the elephant in the room: Kim and Eddie going on a date behind Marisol (and Buck’s) back. Look, I know I’m in the vast, vast minority here, but I don’t hate a cheating arc in fiction. It happens in life, more often than most people want to think about, and it makes for an interesting storyline. But at this point, Eddie hasn’t really cheated (even thought I was CONVINCED he had with that flashback lmao). He’s toeing a dangerous line, yeah, but having dinner with Kim isn’t inherently cheating, even though he is lying to Buck and his real actual girlfriend.

It’s fascinating to see him be okay with this but his “catholic guilt” stands in the way of him having sex with his girlfriend because she was a nun once. I think him seeing Kim like this really hammers home the point that he doesn’t even really like Marisol. He’s certainly not committed to her in any meaningful way, or he wouldn’t be entertaining Kim.

And let’s not forget, he’s lying to Kim too! He told her he was single and he’s not!

Kim isn’t Shannon, she will never be able to fill that void that Eddie is still desperately searching to fill, because no one can fill that void, not even Shannon.

The theme of the episode is, in its way, stalking. The overall plotline of Kyle stalking and kidnapping women, Eddie sort of following Kim around, even Karen making that offhanded comment that she felt like a stalker. But it feels like Eddie's guilt and unprocessed grief over his relationship with Shannon is stalking him in a way. He believes that their relationship was perfect, that if he could just find the right woman, everything would be fixed, he wouldn't have to grieve her anymore. But that's just not how things work, and I don't believe that there is any woman, not even Shannon herself, that could fit on the pedestal that Eddie has created for her.

The way that Shannon has kind of haunted Eddie's narrative from the moment she died, how she looms over every relationship he has... he's always chasing her memory, but not her true memory, he's chasing the memory that he's creating for himself. The beautiful one where they never fought, he never ran, she never left. But that memory doesn't exist, and it never has.

Eddie is looking for something that he’ll never be able to find. He’s looking for a woman that can be the mother that Shannon was to Chris, but with a partnership that doesn’t make him want to run away…or panic…or cheat.

Where is he going to find that? I think we all know he’s already found it, just not with a woman.

I’ll be so interested to see what this turns into. I love the idea that Buck or one of the others meets Kim and she looks nothing like Shannon to them, because it would be so unsettling for everyone to basically be like “what are you seeing in this random woman that makes you think of your dead wife?” What’s the fallout going to be? Eddie is obviously not well, he’s spiraling and will likely hide it from everyone, just like he tried to hide his struggles with PTSD from everyone as well.

He’s such a fascinating character, and I think the way the writers are bringing up this catholic guilt storyline now could be really compelling if it leads to a larger realization. Marisol is a red herring, we don’t even care enough about her to learn her last name, but she’s a catalyst for Eddie’s guilt at being with someone that brings up his feelings about religion, about what’s “right” and “wrong." And I feel like this could lead to a larger realization.

Maybe even about the man who is more of his partner and parent to his son than any of his girlfriends have been.

[bts-storys]

Bathing a bomb (m)

Author: bts-storys

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Rating: mature content, 18+

Genre: Strangers to lovers/ Lush Store AU/ Smut

Word Count: 5,901

Summary: Your job at the Lush store isn’t what you would call extremely exciting. That is until one customer just won’t stay out of the shop. And for that matter he won’t stay out of your head either.

Warnings: oral (female receiving), fingering, dirty talk, graphic description of sex, penetration, lots of stuff with hands, because I feel like that's what lush is essentially about, Seokjin being handsome as ever, some daydreaming about a shower

A/N: I changed my narrative perspective a bit, I hope everything sounds better now. I won't lie, this piece gave me a real hard time, so happy so present to you what I worked on the last weeks.

„Damn it! “

You flinch when you hear an angry voice right on the other side of the wall, sitting upright again in the process. The door bursts open and someone marches right into the break room.

“Are you okay, June?”, you carefully ask your co-worker. When you catch a glimpse at her hands you cock an eyebrow. “Did you touch the lilac soap again?”

“Yes, for god’s sake!”, she grumbles while digging in her bag. “I hate this damn allergy!”

“I told you to wear some gloves or at least call me to take care of it instead”, you say in a judging tone.

“I know, I forgot them. And you’re on break Y/N!” She looks at you with an apologetic expression while opening a jar of cream from her bag.

You laugh. “Well I was until now. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the customers and you do something about your hands, you look like an angry lobster.”

You put your coffee aside and your customer smile back on your face. Walking through the door, the overwhelming smell of hundreds of different scents washes right over you. When you first started working at the Lush store a few months prior, you found yourself with a headache at the end of every day from smelling so much all the time. When you had told June about it, she gave you a painkiller and assured you it would get better soon. She was right at the end and you grew into loving all the different scents. Nothing relaxes you more than the familiar fragrances in the store after a hard day of studying. You shake your head to get rid of the memory.

Even though June had been working here far longer, she just can’t deal with her lilac allergy due to her extreme stubbornness. Nara, your other co-worker is talking to a customer so you get back to one of the shelves and finish putting in the soap. Right at the last piece, someone behind you makes a coughing noise.

“Ehrm- Excuse me?”

You turn around. The speaker is a tall guy at least one head-length taller than you. He has broad shoulders and the most handsome face you have ever seen. His skin has a perfect shine as if he uses the exact right amount of moisturizer every day and his head looks perfectly shaped. His black hair matches his dark coat and the pair of boots he wears. His body-position gives off a high level of self-confidence, much contrary to his worried expression. His complete appearance is quite overwhelming and it takes you a second or two to get over yourself.

“Hi, what can I do for you?”, you smile at him.

He smiles back at you and you feel your heartbeat increase. “I was wondering… how many different bath bombs do you sell at the moment?”

Inwardly, you let out a sigh. Chances are pretty small, a handsome man like him would ask about bath bombs without the intention of giving them to a boyfriend or girlfriend. On the outside you maintain your customer smile.

“Right now, we have 20 different types of bath bombs here at the store. Do you have a specific fragrance you’re looking for?”

“N-No, not exactly. I want all of them…please.”

You look at him with confusion. “You want to buy every bath bomb in this store?!!”

“No!”, he quickly corrects. “I want to buy one of every type, if that’s possible.”

You start to laugh.

“I’m so sorry”, you tell him after getting a hold of yourself. “Of course, that’s possible, let’s grab a basket for you.”

He sends you a smile that gets right to your core. “Don’t worry, I know that it's a weird request. You have a cute laugh though.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, quickly turning around, reminding yourself that he is still a customer.

“Thank you, Sir. Let’s get to those bath bombs.”

“It’s Seokjin, actually. Please don’t call me ‘Sir’.”

You hide your surprise behind a straight face. “Okay Seokjin, follow me, please.”

You get to the counter where the bath bombs are stored, aware that he is right behind you. While filling the little basket with colorful shapes, you just can’t resist the curiosity.

“Soo, is there a reason to your special request?”, you ask him while scanning the stacks for more bombs.

“Um, I guess I just want to know what color they would produce. You know, all together.”

You turn around again, seeing him gulp.

“You want to use them all at once?” You try not to sound like you are laughing at him again, maintaining a neutral expression. “I’m finished by the way, so follow me to the checkout, please.”

You get behind the cash register, scanning the items before dropping them into a bag.

“Should I pack them as a gift?”, you try asking without raising his suspicion. Maybe he is still getting them for his SO or whatsoever even though it seemed like he was flirting with you for a brief moment.

“No, thank you”, he says, looking right into your eyes. The dark brown of his iris seems to pull you in, until you snap out of it after a few seconds. He pays and takes the bag from your hand. His gaze lingers on your form behind the apron you are wearing and you feel your breath hitch for a second.

Then the moment is over.

“Thank you for your kind consultation, Y/N.”, he says with a look at the tag on your shirt. At the mention of your name, you feel heat shooting through your body like he just set you on fire. Suddenly, you find it difficult to concentrate when he gives you one last look and leaves the store.

“DID GOD SEND US AN ANGEL TO GET 20 BATH BOMBS?!”, you hear June yell behind you.

“Who the hell was that, Y/N?”

“That was Seokjin and he wants to know what color they would produce all at once”, you answer like you’re in a trance.

“He WHAT- now?!”

For the next few days you try not to think about Seokjin too much. To tell the truth, you fail miserably. The main reason to that is certainly June who just won’t let go of the story, but if you are honest, you think about him as well. Even without her help. Seokjin piqued your interest and you want to know more about him.

You even start looking him up on social media in your work breaks but either he doesn’t have any public appearance or your fbi skills just aren’t good enough to find him.

The next week starts without any major events if you don’t count the old man who tries to eat a whole bar of shower soap and the middle-aged woman who just won’t understand the usage of a massage bar. After the third attempt of explaining she doesn’t need a lighter for the process, she just leaves and you try to stay calm. Suddenly, you hear someone call your name from behind.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You turn around and immediately feel like you’re not ready for the sight you’re greeted with. Seokjin is wearing a white, half-transparent shirt with long sleeves combined with skinny black pants.

They look too tight.

Your lungs feel tight too.

He even remembered your name. And how the hell are you fangirling over someone you only met once before?! A quick look around shows that both Nara and June are busy with customers so you pull yourself together and return his smile.

“Seokjin. How can I help you today?”

For a moment he looks a bit lost but quickly recovers.

“I loved how everything smelled the last time I was here, so I thought I’d get something else. You do sell shower gel, right?”

“Yeah, of course”, you say, turning around to get to the other side of the shop. While walking in front of him you try to relax your shoulders a bit.

Arriving at the shower themed area you try to get back to being professional again.

“Do you have anything special in mind? Maybe some ingredient you like?”, you ask him while scanning the stacks.

Your gaze comes to a halt when you spot a sign right next to his handsome face saying “prince charming”. Normally, you love the shower gel that is advertised, but right now you curse whoever chose its name. The real prince charming in front of you has the audacity to smirk at your irritation.

“I like products that smooth my skin when I’m in the shower”, he says looking you dead in the eye. “Maybe something that feels good when you apply it.”

You can’t do anything about it, the picture just appears in front of your inner eye. Seokjin standing in the shower, water floating over his shaped body. He rubs his damped skin with nourishing oils, his lips sinfully parted. His body looks perfect surrounded by the steam from the hot water. You visibly shudder.

“Are you cold?”, Seokjin asks, bringing you back to reality.

“N-No!”, you hastily say. Quickly, you grab a bar with a minty color from the shelf, showing it to him.

“What about this one? It’s really good for your skin, it’s based on natural ingredients.”

He leaves you completely stunned when he takes your hand into his, bringing the bar to his nose. His palm is soft and warm, embracing your small fingers with his. You feel like you float and the feeling tingles. Every inch of your body is on edge, not missing a single second of the moment. His touch is light and gentle, giving you the opportunity to pull away. Obviously, you don’t. Further, you don’t even breathe until he lets go of you again.

“Yeah, it smells nice", he says. "I’ll take it."

Your wobbly legs take the two of you to the checkout, where you wrap the soap bar.

“Do you work here every day?”, Seokjin asks you casually. “If you don’t mind answering”, he adds.

“I don’t”, you smile. “I work from Monday ‘til Thursday after my college courses.”

He looks impressed. “You study and work at the same time?”

You laugh at his expression. “Something has to pay the rent, right? Also working here is more fun than it looks like.”

“I mean, if you like working in a giant flower meadow, then yeah”, he jokes. “What’s your major though?”

“International Management”, you say sheepishly. “Probably not the most interesting- “

“Awesome!”, he exclaims. “I work in the management area myself, you know.”

“You do?” Secretly, you had put him into modeling or maybe he really was an angel like June had noted multiple times.

“I work at a small music label with some of my friends”, he explains further. “Maybe we could- “

You don’t get to hear what he wants to say.

“Y/N? Can you please go and help June? I swear to god if she touches that damn soap one more time, I’ll tie her hands behind her back!!”, Nara shouts at you from the other side of the store.

“I’m sorry.”

You and Seokjin both apologize at the same time.

“Here’s your recipe”, you smile and hand him the package with his purchase.

“It was nice talking to you Y/N”, Seokjin says, giving you one last look before leaving the store.

You look at his broad back longingly before rushing to get to June before Nara can live up to her promise.

On Friday, you start your day off with working on an essay for your finance course. After finishing a couple of pages, you get ready to meet June at the fairground. Apparently, her roommate works there, selling crêpes which are “not from this world, maybe even from another galaxy”, as June claims.

At the end of the day you wonder if you may have lost some of your sanity, because on the weekend you can’t stop thinking about Seokjin at all. The picture of him touching your hands and looking at you in such a deep way seems to be burned into your brain. You also start to ask yourself if he feels the same about you. He must have felt something the second time he went to buy the shower bar. At least you hope he did. Maybe you’re completely out of place and he was just being himself? It’s not only the girls who get mistaken when they’re just being super nice, you remind yourself.

You could ask him out the next time he buys something. If there is a next time. Or would that be unprofessional at your workplace?

Without finding a solution to your problem, you nervously wait for the next workday to arrive. Who doesn’t arrive though is the person in question. June comments on your stiffness a few times but other than that nothing happens the entire week. You’re exhausted from studying and working afterwards but most of all from wondering if you will meet Seokjin again.

The next Monday comes and goes while your hope slowly dies. On Tuesday, you’re stacking up some massage bars catching yourself daydreaming. You can see Seokjin right in front of you. He’s wearing a dark blue sweater that makes a great contrast to his skin tone and reminds you of a deep ocean.

Only then you realize that he is indeed standing right in front of you. You’re not dreaming, you’re staring and it’s getting damn awkward.

“Seokjin!”, you screech, quickly trying to change to professionalism again.

“Hi, Y/N”, he says, completely oblivious to your thoughts. He’s really here, you think, getting more and more excited. It’s as if someone just lifted a grey filter and every color gets brighter again.

He points at the bar in you hand. “What’s that?”

“That’s a massage bar”, you say, happy he picked a topic other than you ogling him. “It can be used for a massage or as a body lotion after showering. It contains cocoa butter and mineral oils.”

The shower image comes to your mind again but you quickly shove it back.

“Sounds lovely”, he says and for a split second his gaze falls to your lips. At least you think it does. Internally you take a deep breath, working up some courage. “Do you want to try it?”, you ask in a rush.

He looks surprised but quickly recovers, nodding and pulling up one sleeve. You’re greeted with the sight of his slender hand and the visible veins running down his arm. Holding back a shiver while taking his hand you softly rub some of the product onto his skin. Then you start massaging the back of his hand with gentle strokes. Your gaze lingers for a moment and your heart most definitely skips a beat when you look up again. All the angelic features of Seokjins face have vanished. His eyes are half closed and he looks almost sinful. A small noise escapes his parted lips and you think you might faint.

It feels exciting and intimidating to touch him like this.

In the middle of the store you’re working at.

For each and every one to see.

When the realization hits you, you drop his hand in embarrassment. His eyes snap open and he looks equally as shocked as you are. He takes a step back in the same moment you find your voice again.

“I’m sorry, do you- eh do you like the product? Should I pack it for you?”, you ask, trying to deescalate the situation.

“Huh?” Seokjin looks at you like he sees you for the first time today. “Ah no, thank you! I-I think I need to leave, actually.”

Before you can even do so much as blink, he rushes out of the door. You’re left with the massage bar in your hand and your heart at your feet. How come you didn’t notice it was involved until now? Why did he leave, did you do something wrong?

You feel like you’re about to cry but fight it successfully. Okay, maybe you did develop a crush on a customer. And maybe some part of you was convinced that it was mutual and Seokjin had a thing for you as well. Obviously, he had not.

The last time someone ran from you as fast as he did was at a fetching game in elementary school. Either way, now is definitely not the time to dive further into your feelings. While leading another customer through the store, June brushes your shoulder.

“What the hell did just happen?”, she whispers, keeping up her façade smile at the same time. You just shake your head, unable to answer because honestly you don’t know. Maybe you did cross a line but at the same time you felt like Seokjin had actually liked it.

The rest of the shift you work on auto-pilot. Your customer smile never fades but inside you feel empty. Even if you had interpreted every sign Seokjin gave you wrong, you felt as if there was a connection between the two of you. How could you be so false about that?

By the end of the day you feel exhausted, looking forward to crying in some of your pillows. Maybe there’s still ice cream left in your refrigerator. A miserable scene starts playing in your head and you quickly shake it off, as you finish cleaning the last counter.

“I’m heading home, okay?”, you exclaim, earning a thumbs up from Nara and a worried look from June. Luckily, she stays silent giving you the space you need right now. With your jacket and bag draped over one arm you leave the store. It’s dark outside but still pretty warm. Only a few people are out, most of them heading home as well now.

Maybe the rejection will hurt less in a few days, you think to yourself. Just as you turn around the corner, someone tall bumps into you. You squeak and jolt backwards when you realize who you just ran into. Seokjin. It had to be him out of all people. A thousand different thoughts cross your mind.

How do you react? What is he doing here? Did he come back to talk to you? Should you be angry at him?

Your stupid heart betrays you by skipping a beat and then starting a race in your chest. Still, it starts to hurt just as much when you hear his voice again.

“Y/N!” He seems to be just as surprised as you are. “Shit, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

Even with a shocked look on his face he’s still gorgeous and you feel like crying again. Avoiding his gaze, you look down and realize that he’s waiting for an answer.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine don’t worry.”

Even a total stranger would notice the shakiness of your voice. You really need to escape this situation. Now.

“Look, I’m okay. I’ll just head home now, so… have a great evening.”

You awkwardly try to shuffle past him but he catches your arm holding you back.

“No, please wait!”

He’s so close now that you can smell his cologne. Something really sweet mixed with soap that makes you want to get closer to him. Instead, you try to free yourself from his grip. You still don’t know why he left earlier and it hurts being near him.

“Let me go please, I need to- “

“Just listen to me, I swear I’ll make it quick!”, he interrupts you.

His voice sounds really desperate which is why you feel yourself slowly nod.

“I owe you an apology for what happened today.” After his first words the scene starts to play in your head again and you slightly stiffen at the memory.

“I’m really sorry that I just left like that. It wasn’t your fault at all, I was just- you know I- shit this is embarrassing.” He sighs, stumbling over his own words.

By now you’re even more confused than before.

“I don’t understand”, you say. “Why did you leave?”

Seokjin runs a hand through his hair. You can see that he’s frustrated but you don’t know why.

“Ah, fuck it”, he mutters under his breath and then looks right into your eyes.

“The first time I came to the store, it was because I lost a bet with my friends”, he admits in a rush. “I felt stupid and embarrassed, but you were so nice and extremely cute so the next time I came, it was because I wanted to see you again.”

The world stops spinning. At least you feel like it does, because you’re suddenly out of air after his confession. He came to see you?

Not noticing any of this, Seokjin continues.

“I know, it may sound really creepy, I realize that, but you seemed to be having a good time as well, so I figured you felt the same?” At this he pushed his fingers through his hair again. It’s an irritating gesture because you know you shouldn’t stare at them like you do right now.

A tiny part of you wishes he would touch you instead.

“One time I almost asked you out, but we got interrupted and I lost my courage, I guess. And when I saw how shocked you were today after what happened, I just thought that I completely misinterpreted everything. I didn’t want you to feel pressured if you really don’t feel the same, that’s why I left. So- yeah, I realize now that I probably acted like an idiot. I’m sorry.”

“You were an idiot, that’s true.”

Seokjin looks startled.

Gaining courage, you openly smile at him.

“I feel the same about you”, you softly say. “Talking to you is so easy, I feel like I could do it all day. I’m sorry I reacted like this back in the store, I just remembered where we were and you’re a customer…I panicked.”

You take a deep breath.

“And when you left, I felt devastated. One moment you’re there and it’s going great and we're touching and the next second you run off. It just hurt…” Your last words are only a whisper escaping your lips.

At some point during your confession, Seokjin decided to take a step closer, now standing only inches away from you and his scent is all around you again.

“So, you liked touching me?”, he asks with a small smirk on his lips. Those beautiful pink lips you want to feel so badly. You quickly nod, heat rushing through your cheeks.

“And Y/N”, he says while moving the last bit closer. “Do you feel like panicking right now?”

“I don’t think so. “

His lips are on yours in an instant. Everything becomes less important to the feeling of Seokjin kissing you. It’s as if the whole world went silent at once just so you won’t get interrupted.

When his thumb starts caressing your cheek, you part your lips, giving him access to your mouth. His tongue plays with your lower lip before licking into you softly. He tastes amazing and you feel yourself getting lost, when he suddenly pulls away.

“This is okay, right?” he asks, panting heavily.

Instead of answering, you pull him in again. This time it’s different though. The first kiss was sweet and new. This one is pure hunger. You feel your skin burn where he touches you on top of your shirt. In return, you let your hands wander beneath his blue sweater, tracing his skin with your fingers. Seokjin growls against your mouth.

He then starts to tilt your head so he can bring his lips to your neck. And boy, he knows what he’s doing. His lips place wet kisses on your sensible skin and when he starts sucking right below your ear, a tiny moan escapes your lips. At this you push lightly against his chest. Again, this is sadly not the right place. You’re still out on a street.

He takes the hint and stops kissing you. His lips look swollen and wet and you have to force yourself not to kiss him again. He opens his mouth, possibly to say anything including some stupid apology, but you quickly take his hand.

“Let’s continue this some place else. Maybe somewhere without an audience?”, you suggest.

Seokjin laughs, visibly relieved and starts pulling you into the direction he originally came from.

His voice seems darker than before. “I live right around the corner, we can go there.”

You hum in approval, not missing the fact that he doesn’t let go of your hand.

On the way to his apartment you keep up a small chat about some of your courses and the work Seokjin does. Still, you can feel the tension in the air between you. On the outside you maintain interested, when all you can think about is his skin against yours.

Finally, you arrive in front of a small building with a blue painted wooden door. Seokjin fumbles with his keys while you can only look at his beautiful hands. You crave his touch and the feeling of being in his arms. The door opens and he pulls you inside. A staircase later you’re in front of the apartment door.

“I do have a roommate, but he’s out of town at the moment”, he explains while unlocking the door. Inside the hall you don’t even get time to look at the furniture before Seokjin pushes you against the wall.

“God, you’re so beautiful”, he whispers right before he kisses you again.

His lips are rough, and you meet them with the same amount of hunger. After all, you missed them since the last touch. You can feel his hands on the back of your thighs when he suddenly lifts you up without missing a beat. His mouth is still working against yours but now you’re just too aware of a certain hardness between your legs that shoots heat through your spine.

You feel yourself getting wet and pray that he won’t notice.

When Seokjin flips his thumb over your hard nipple you can hardly hold back a moan. He searches for permission in your face and upon finding it, pulls your shirt over your head. He’s met with the sight of a mint green bralette hugging your breasts. When he’s teasing you again over the fabric, you’re forced to close your eyes, moaning his name in pleasure.

The next thing you feel is his mouth engulfing your nipple. It’s hot and wet and you automatically arch your back to get closer to the feeling. He swirls his tongue around you, drawing soft noises from your throat.

“Please don’t stop”, you beg while pulling at some soft strands of his hair.

“You’re driving me crazy, Y/N”, he admits. “I can’t wait to feel you.”

“Then don’t”, you simply say, tugging at the hem of his sweater. He complies, pulling it off and you gasp lightly at the sight of his naked torso. Your fingers trail down the lines of his shoulders and your lips connect again, this time it’s sweet and full of anticipation.

You can feel the wall behind you vanish as Seokjin starts walking towards his bedroom, never breaking the kiss. He lays you down on his bed as if you were made of glass and starts taking off your jeans in the same movement.

“Come and sit here, will you?”, he says.

You do as you’re told and when you meet his eyes again, you forget how to breathe. Seokjin is on his knees right in front of you, his black pants hanging loosely on his hips, his dark hair messy from your hands. You don’t even think he looks human anymore.

“Open your legs for me, princess.”

The new nickname makes you shiver, as well as the cold air meeting your wet panties as you comply. The man in front of you uses a long, slender finger to tug your underwear to the side and is rewarded with the sight of your glistening folds.

“You’re so wet princess, is this all for me?”

You moan as a response, unable to form a proper word in your head. No one has ever made you feel like this before.

Seokjin lowers his head and you lose every train of thoughts when you feel his tongue on you.

He licks up a stripe and your legs tremble out of pleasure. He starts sucking on your clit, leaving you a moaning mess, your hands grasping the sheets so you won’t lose balance.

Your breath hitches as Seokjin introduces a single digit to your entrance. His other hand is still holding you in place, while he works you up simultaneously with his tongue and finger. He starts pumping in and out faster, hitting your soft walls with every push. You’re on the edge, all you can think of is more, more.

“P-Please”, you say, breathing heavily. “I want to feel your cock inside of me. I need you. Now.”

He looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

“You think you can take me, princess?”, he asks while getting up.

You nod a bit nervous at the sight of Seokjin taking off his pants and boxers at once. He’s way bigger than you had imagined. Like the rest of his body even his cock looks perfectly shaped, his tip already wet with a few drops of precum. You bite your bottom lip, can’t help but stare at him in awe. It’s the first time you see him completely naked and you try to take everything in at the same time.

Seokjin starts to crawl above you, keeping eye contact while you shuffle back until you hit the bedside. He pulls you down again by your legs, bringing his lips to your ear.

“I keet imagining this moment since the first time we met. Your hands all over me, while I pound you into the mattress until you scream my name”, he whispers.

Your answer is a kiss. On his lips you can taste yourself, mixed with the same impatience you feel building up inside of you. You reach down, slipping a finger over the head of his cock, bringing it back up to your mouth. Seokjin looks like he’s about to choke. Next thing you know, your panties are abandoned and he’s rolling a condom on himself that just appeared out of nowhere.

“Look at me while I fill you up so good”, he demands as he positions himself at your entrance. You both sigh at the feeling of him entering you inch by inch. He pauses when he’s completely inside of you.

“How can you be so tight? Your little pussy was made for me, right princess?”

You feel your cheeks get red, but there is no time to be ashamed of anything.

When he starts moving, you can feel how big he really is with every push. Seokjin flips at your nipple again before his mouth is on yours again and your soft moans get mixed with needy whines. His left hand is stroking your curves, coming to a halt at your hip, to keep you in place while he starts to go deeper.

His lips find your neck and you mewl loudly when he bites down on it. The next second the short pain is gone as he licks over the hickey he just created.

All of the sudden, he lowers his pace and you feel him even more, stretching you out deliciously. With a small movement, he starts to hit you at a specific angle, still going slow and making you feel him all the way.

He presses light kisses behind your ear, whispering “You’re fucking gorgeous Y/N”.

And then you feel his hand between your legs.

Seokjin stops kissing you to look at your face as he starts stimulating your clit with his fingers while moving faster again. You moan uncontrollably at the pleasure that takes over you.

“P-Please!”, you choke out.

“What is it princess? You need to use your words. Tell me what you need.”

His hot breath is on your face. Never in your life has anyone made you feel so precious and vulnerable at the same time.

“Please, S-Seokjin! Make me cum, I need you!”, you whine, while he proceeds to push you to the edge with every hard plunge of his cock.

“Say my name again, princess, I’ll make you feel so good!” His clenched teeth tell you that he’s not far from coming himself. His fingers and the feeling of him bouncing in and out of you almost make you faint.

“Seokjin!”, you cry out and your world shatters as the orgasm rips through you. A few pushes after, you feel Seokjin spill himself into the condom.

You’re both painting heavily when he rolls off of you and you feel his gaze from the side.

You turn your head, giving him a soft smile and the look, he rewards you with, makes your face heat up again.

“I think that was the best sex I ever had”, you admit sheepishly, holding your breath for a few seconds before releasing it again.

Seokjin smiles his angelic smile and brushes a sweaty strand of hair behind your ear.

“Me too.”

For a moment you both remain silent. Then he clears his throat.

“I hope this isn’t too late, but I really meant what I said before. Will you go out with me Y/N?”

“Yes”, you say wholeheartedly. “I would love to. There’s only one last question I have.”

“And that is?”, he asks with a confused look.

“What color did that bathtub have at the end? You know, the one where you put all the bath bombs together?”

“Y/N, I swear to god…”, he says and the rest of the sentence is drowned out by your laughter.

© Bts-Storys, 2021. Do not copy or repost without permission.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading all of it! I'm still working on my smut writing skills, I hope you can see some improvement.

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Can I request a Viv Tang fic or hc?

It's angst, where The Poppy leaves MC to take the blame on one of their heists, promising that they would break her out, but never did. Yet despite that she never sold them out.

Then Nadia was the one who broke her out, manipulating her and plotting lies in her head to make her join Flashpoint.

The Poppy did do their everything to break MC out but everytime Nadia intercepts them. So when they finally tracked down where MC and Nadia is, on the location of their latest operation, they tried to reason to her. But MC's loyalty was too deep for Nadia maybe because Nadia also made MC think that she loves her or something.

And maybe the last words could be:

"Next time I won't hesitate to tell them to pull the trigger, maybe I'll be the one to pull the trigger myself."

Make it as angsty as possible please and thank you in advance!

Warning: Mentions of murder.

...

Prison life was hell. Try as she might, MC couldn’t endure it as well as she thought she could. There was an enemy in every shadow, in every corner. There was no one to lean against, no support.

The days dragged on and on, virtually endless, no help in sight.

MC remembered the warmth of the Poppy, their joyous celebrations, the life in their eyes as they planned a heist that would ultimately unveil in failure. No one had known then that it would go wrong, and MC couldn’t help but wonder if they would have cared. If they would have changed anything in the plan.

There wasn’t a moment in this damn place where people didn’t shove it in her face—no doubt it was on purpose, why the heck would they want to drag a failure like you around? —and scoffed at her when they saw her, not believing for a second that this scared little kid could belong to such a famous group.

Two weeks in, MC had abandoned any hope that she would be rescued. She was stuck for fifteen years in this place. Investigators would come in periodically, their eyes stone cold as they probed her for answers, but MC kept her mouth shut and looked away. They would get physical sometimes, intent on getting answers, but MC say nothing.

The memory of a place she truly belonged in was still fresh in her mind. She had always been an emotional person… it was no surprise she had no desire to sell them out. At least not yet. Give her a couple of months, and maybe she’d be bitter enough to do it.

Three weeks in, a blast had knocked the whole prison into chaos. The sheer relief that flooded her was only slightly evaporated by the spark of anger and indignation in her chest, but she still hurried out, thirsty for freedom.

She expected to see Vivienne’s impish smirk, hand extended in her direction, no remorse in her eyes, but was surprised by golden hair and a tight, crisp suit that had once been white, now marred by dirt and smoke and blood.

“Oh good, I was wondering how much target practice I would have before you showed up,” the woman said, her grin as sharp as a knife’s edge even though she was standing so casually, as if they weren’t standing at the edge of a broken prison wall but in a café.

MC froze, caught off guard. Someone—another inmate—ran behind her, intent on reaching freedom, and the woman whipped a gun in his direction so fast he didn’t even have time to react. His body joined the pile of bodies by the side, momentum making it flop like a sad, broken doll. The woman hums to herself as she reloads the gun.

“Hurry up, MC, I don’t have all day.”

“Wha—? But you just shot—”

She shrugs, nonchalant. “Yeah, well, since they are no use to me… I might as well practice my aim, no?”

“…I—”

“Hurry up and come here, MC,” the woman says, impatience making her voice firmer and deadlier. Her arm snaps up, the sound of a gunshot making the air vibrate, and MC covers her ears and flinches. Someone lets out a pained gurgle and the thump right behind her makes MC shiver. A swift glance reveals it’s a guard. “The cavalry has arrived—next shot is at your feet if you don’t move. Right. Now.”

MC has never run so fast in her entire life. The woman’s grin returns, pleased, and after one last shot, she guides MC out into a waiting helicopter. They are out of the prison without much trouble. Still a bit anxious, MC takes one of the seats, stiffly. In contrast, the woman lets herself drop in the seat in front of her and all but beams at her.

“Sorry about that—I like to make things dramatic. Name’s Nadia.”

“That was… a tad more dramatic than I would have liked…”

“You’ll get used to it in no time,” she replies, waving her hand as if it’s no big deal. She smirks and lets the gun drop on MC’s lap, who goes very still, staring at the device in horror. “Safety’s on, chill. I’d never do anything to you, MC.”

“You literally threatened me like three seconds ago.”

“Because we were going to get caught otherwise! I wouldn’t have acted on it, promise.”

MC chances a look at her eyes—there’s a dangerous amusement dancing in them, like the light blue of a river that doesn’t seem to have a very strong current until you are swept off into a certain death. There are no second chances with this woman, no false appearances. MC doesn’t realize how reliving this raw honesty is until it washes over her, and she wonders if right now she’s at the edge of the river. One wrong move…

“Thank you for getting me out of there.”

“No big deal. I heard what happened with the Poppy—figures they aren’t as noble as they make everyone believe.”

Those words cut into MC like a frosty knife.

“I… I thought they sent you to break me out…”

Nadia scoffs. “Me, working with stuck-ups like them? Now that’s a good laugh.”

“Why did you bail me out, then?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” She leans forward. “The Poppy threw away some very valuable talent. As any proper thief would do, I claimed it for myself.”

“…threw away, huh?”

“They were quite satisfied with themselves, too. Imagine the fit they’ll have when they know you’re with Flashpoint now.”

It’s hard to believe her words. The image of a joyous Poppy is still fresh in MC’s mind, but Nadia’s words tint it a dull reddish-brown, just like a faded photograph. She thinks about Vivienne’s words, about her promise to break her out, and frowns.

“You speak as though I’ve already joined your little group.”

“There’s no other option, MC. I’m not letting a talent like you slip away… plus, don’t you want to get back at them? Show them what a horrible mistake they did?”

“…”

“Or just let them seethe silently in rage, sure. Can’t say I love your approach, but eh.”

Her fingers curl around the grip of the gun. “What happens if I don’t want to work for you?”

Nadia looks at her with keen interest, still with a lazy smirk. “Then you’d be volunteering for target practice.”

“I thought you say you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I don’t hurt my coworkers, no, but if you cross me—whoever you are—then you seal your fate.”

MC hums, looking at the firearm in her lap, moving her thumb over the safety. After a small pause, in which she glances over at the pilot, she moves her hand away.

“Fine. I’ll join.”

“Great!”

Flashpoint, true to its name, prefers more flashy heists.

MC wasn’t too comfortable with their modus operandi at first, but got used to it soon enough.

Nadia was a strict leader. Every conversation with her was intense and dangerous, especially when she was in a bad mood, but she was thorough.

She didn’t mince her words. She was as honest as could be, and after months caught in Vivienne’s game, Nadia was a breath of fresh air. MC couldn’t be really blamed for falling in love with her, right? In the end, Nadia was the only one willing to support her.

That’s why it had been such a surprise when, in the middle of their latest heist, the Poppy had intervened.

They had been as organized as always—Flashpoint was completely caught off guard, the communication lost. MC could deal with not knowing what happened to the rest, so long as she had Nadia with her.

Nadia had been strangely amused when the Poppy crashed their heist, not worried at all, gripping her knife without a care in the world. That was reassuring… at least during this forced encounter, MC would have her by her side.

And it was comforting to see that Nadia hadn’t taken out her gun yet.

Vivienne is the one who speaks, voice as demanding as firewood smoke, and MC goes deadly still when the seductress goes straight to the point instead of dancing around the subject as she usually does. “Nadia prevented us from breaking you out.”

Her words ring hollow. Now that MC has been out of her influence long enough, it’s easy to ignore her words. They are fake, anyway. They must be.

Nadia scoffs, wolfish grin still in place. “Blaming me now, huh? That’s low. I thought you would have come up with a better excuse.”

Remy instantly starts to explain the foiled attempts, and their most recent efforts to find Flashpoint now that MC was with them, but MC can’t look at him without remembering her time in prison—dark, dark, not an ally in sight, contempt in every corner—and it’s enough to make her bristle.

How dare they? How dare they spill these lies after leaving her to rot in jail? After lying to her for months, making her believe she was one of them?

The fact that they had left her to take the fall was insulting. If it had been Nadia, she would have stayed with her. They would have gone down together, guns blazing. Nadia was the type of person that gave everything or nothing at all.

Vivienne tries to speak again, a desperation in her eyes MC had never seen before, but the sight is oddly satisfying.

Nadia catches it, because of course she does, her smirk softening as she reaches for her gun and aims casually. “Better beg for your lives now.”

And Nadia’s also a very dramatic person, that’s for sure. MC almost wants to laugh at their faces, eyes trained on the gun, expression tainted with disbelief, but MC sees no point in killing them. Not like this, at least.

“What? You still don’t want to get back at them?” But even then, even with how much she’s itching to pull the trigger, Nadia lowers the weapon and scowls. “Fine.”

“Don’t come back to me with this bullshit. Next time I won’t hesitate to tell Nadia to pull the trigger. Maybe I’ll even pull the trigger myself.”

Vivienne sets her jaw and stands still, and MC gives her a small, triumphant smile before she follows Nadia out of the museum.

[ty-talks-comics]

Best of Marvel: Week of March 4th, 2020

Best of this Week: Daredevil #19 (Legacy #631) - Chip Zdarsky, Marco Checchetto, Mattia Iacono and Clayton Cowles

Daredevil was dead.

After Daredevil miscalculated a baton throw which saw him accidentally kill a criminal, Matt Murdock has been on a path of redemption - hanging up his cowl as Daredevil to become something better, someone that Hell’s Kitchen could truly look to as a savior now that the legacy of Daredevil was tarnished by a horrible mistake. Matt looked to God and retired for a time, then Elektra sought to pick him up from his wallowing. With her help, he became something else, not quite Daredevil, but not Matt Murdock either.

But this grey area he operated in wasn’t working either, especially since Hell’s Kitchen was under new threats in The Owl and the insanely rich Stromwyn Twins that not even Kingpin could strike fear into. After convincing the enemy of vigilantes, Detective Cole North, to step up and stand against the tyranny of his corrupt police force, the pair seek to clean up Hell’s Kitchen, but they couldn’t anticipate the Inferno about to rain down on them.

The issue begins with an opening salvo of villains, Crossbones, Bullseye, Bullet and Rhino “Alex O’Hirn,” tearing through the streets. Checchetto does an excellent job of emphasizing the carnage that these four are capable of with Bullet pushing a car over, Rhino causing debris to fly in the background simbly by stomping and Bullseye and Crossbones just looking generally terrifying with knives and a grenade launcher respectively. Iacono does an excellent job of showing the carnage through vibrant orange embers in the foreground that contrast the bright blue sky in the background.

Zdarsky does well in showing the scale of the carnage as various people from Hell’s Kitchen watch the destruction take place in their town. Hector, the hispanic Daredevil impersonator from several issues back, sees the explosions and digs out his costume to help and so too does Janet, one of the first to assume the identity of Daredevil post his disappearance. Both characters see the destruction of their home and step up to protect it. More on that as we go on.

Truly, no one is safe whenever Bullseye shows up to the party and Zdarsky and Checchetto, emphasize just that as a woman tries to save her child and Bullseyes shoots the man trying to save her from the carnage. When Bullet lambasts him for killing the innocent man, Bullseye claims that he was only trying to spook her because she was, “...going to throw a baby at [him].” I won't lie and say that it didn’t make me laugh, but it came out of the blue and shows Zdarsky knows how to do Bullseye’s demented humor well, especially as Chechetto draws his terrifying grins.

In the midst of all of the carnage, Z-List villain, Stilt-Man, shows up and his appearance is one of the most devastating pages in the book as all of the art team comes together amazingly. One of the metallic stilts comes down in front of the car that North and Murdock are using to get into the Kitchen and the force of it is intense! Chcechetto makes excellent use of speed lines, glass shattering, car crumpling and Matt FLYING through the destroyed windshield to sell the impact.

Iacono colors the background with a dark red and black to emphasize how devastating this was as well as the dust from the concrete that was blown up by it. Clayton Cowles pulls it all together with amazing “KRNCH” and “KRSHH” sound effect lettering, made transparent to see everything and make readers feel like they were in the car with them. It hurts and I feel like my body is aching from it.

Crossbones shoots more grenades and sends the few cops ignoring the order to stay out of Hell’s Kitchen flying as only their silhouettes are shown in the ensuing explosion. Hector, however, decides to tango with Bullseye after tackling to keep him from shooting more people. The fight is painfully one-sided with Bullseye stabbing him in the gut with ease. It’s painful, it’s distressing because moment earlier, we saw the poor man helping his elderly father before things went south.

Other major players see the attack on the Kitchen with different eyes. The Owl sees this as an opportunity to rid himself of the non-dirty cops and get more business through the protection money they’ll pay to avoid this again. The Owl has always been a weird criminal mastermind, but Zdarksy has turned him into a madman bent on owning Hell’s Kitchen through the chaos and fire as he leaps and flies into the thick of it.

Elsewhere, Rhino is destroying his way through the city and makes it to the Church that Matt Murdock used to call his other home and gives the nun, Sister Elizabeth, ten minutes to clear the church before he bulldozes it. When Elizabeth was first introduced so many issues ago, I thought she was just another run-of-the-mill nun for Matt to heave his crisis of faith woes on, but Zdarsky gives us an exciting return through some excellent symbolism.

Chechetto does well with subtlety giving the smallest hint when Elizabeth lights a candle and then more light by themselves with Cowles small “fwot” effects dotting the page. Iacono obscures half of her face with dark blacks before it’s revealed to be Typhoid Mary with a demented smile. Mary was last seen in the (mostly awful) Typhoid Fever storyline in which the Mary personality was suppressed by the combined might of Iron Fist and the X-Men. At some point it seems as though Matt placed her there, but in the chaos things seem to crumble.

Of course, the most telling reaction is the look of utter dejection from Wilson Fisk, the former Kingpin. It’s not a look of anger, nor is he smiling, he looks defeated and in many ways, the state of things is his fault. Wilson Fisk became the Mayor of New York City and slowly washed his hands of all of his illicit activity, leaving things to the other families of New York. Under Fisk, the crime was at a reasonable level, but between the gang war of the Owl and the Libris family and the Stromwyn real estate scheme, things have become absolutely dire in his absence.

Bringing us back to Hector, soon after the stabbing, Chechetto delights readers with an amazing shot of the various citizens of Hell’s Kitchen with makeshift weapons and Daredevil masks. They tell the criminals to get out of their neighborhood, not hesitating to swing baseball bats at known terrorists and mercenaries like Crossbones. These are Daredevil’s people and just like him, they stand for what’s their and won’t see these thugs destroy it all. Even Detective North hits a devastating right to Bullet’s jaw.

Checchetto and Iacono come together with two excellent pages of Matt Murdock and the people around him. As Hector struggles to get to Matt, we see his own strength as the blood streams from him as the background is mostly black and red from the fires, but shows brighter oranges around the pair. His last words were, “I tried…” as the blood spurts out of his mouth while Matt holds him in his final moments. Murdock had saved Hector previously after the brave citizen stepped up, but didn’t make it in time this time.

All around him, Checchetto draws Matt visualizing the people of Hell’s Kitchen fighting back and saving people wearing his mask. Checchetto pulls in close to Mudock’s face as he removes the black bandana that he used as a mask and sheds a tear for Hector. He realizes that Daredevil is a symbol and it’s a symbol bigger than him because the people have taken it and made it theirs. Made it something to be proud of outside of him.

Matt Murdock’s greatest sins are Pride and selfishness. He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and feels like no one else but him can do it. This entire series thus far has been about breaking him down using his guilt as a driving force for his actions. The black bandana took him back to his roots as Elektra and Detective North rebuilt him through his senses and sense of duty - his body and mind respectively.

It wasn’t until he saw what Daredevil truly stood for in the eyes of the people that he could retake his name and become the hero that they needed him to be and the final few pages are powerful.

Chip Zdarsky absolutely slams this amazing issue by building to an epic conclusion with the first of hopefully many stories that he has for the Hero of Hell’s Kitchen. Without a doubt, Marco Checchetto and Mattia Iacono make for the perfect art team with dynamic visuals and colors that almost make you want to cry. Clayton Cowles stuns with excellent speech bubble placement and AMAZING sound effects throughout. 

If I had a proper rating system, this book would be damn near PERFECT and I stand by that and this series as a whole.

Also, support me on Patreon:

patreon.com/TyTalksComics

[jlpat82]

Not Out Home

Prologue/Chapter 1

A hundred years ago the human race did the unspeakable, bombs were dropped. Most of the population wasn't prepared for it and millions died as a result. The entire top side of the planet was laid to waste, the land is barren. Constant blowing of hot radioactive winds whip up dust and sand, changing the landscape year by year with large sand dunes. Storms are a constant reminder that our ancestors messed up, these storms drop acidic rain on the soil contaminating it further. Everything that society had known, had become accustomed to was gone in the blink of an eye. Life as they knew it, gone.

You're probably wondering how I know all of this. A small sect of the government foresaw the dropping of the bombs and acted accordingly. They built large complexes made of reinforced materials, not only to withstand the blast but also the inevitable fallout. Small buildings out cropped amongst the wasteland of a landscape. Connect by tunnels underground, and tubes above ground. These tubes are serviced every four years by volunteers, as the blowing sand weakens the tubes reinforced plexiglass. Last year was the last fix year.

I was born in one of these complexes seventy years after the bombs stopped. Growing up in school we learned what life used to be like, what the trees looked like. We learned about the animals that inhabited our planet, what day to day activities those before us did. What I'd give to have been alive during that time. To feel a fresh breeze on my face, to put my feet in a stream.

Everything is recycled, the air that is pushed through our ventilation system is recycled, as is our water. It's collected, purified, and rebottled. And don't get me started on the food.

Why does any of this matter you ask? Well, as a dreamer of times gone by I take the long route wherever I go. I walk through the plexi tubes, staring out imagining what it would be like to take a step out there.

When I saw human foot prints on the outside of the tube and large hand prints on the side I was a little more then startled. We have been told time and time again how toxic the air is outside the walls of our compound. Nothing is said to be able survive out there without the proper suits, even then four hours tops.

Chapter 1

I watched as the sands swirled in and around the steps, slowly covering them. They were definitely human, and large at that. Whoever had made them must have been heavy as the prints themselves were deep. I raised my hand to compare the handprint to mine. My hand was dwarfed by the size and I am no small woman.

I stepped back, dumbfounded, here was someone's feet and hand prints but I saw nothing leading to them or away. It was like they had materialized and vanished back into thin air. I surveyed the tan landscape before me, nothing out of place. Slowly I turned and continued my short walk to work

I work at store the sells the staples of life, preprocessed dinners in four flavors. These bricks came in chicken, beef, pork, and what's that. It's something you just can't quite put you're finger on. Some people say it taste like lamb, others say fish, hence the reason I call it what I do. None of us alive today have tasted true lamb or fish, then again we have never tasted beef, pork, or chicken either.

We also sell bottled water, and a lot of it. Our store also sells clothing, all identical. The same black pants and a polo that comes in four colors, dusty grey, dull blue, dark sand, and white.

When I say our life is boring that is no understatement.

"Julianne, you're late!" Elise, my coworker and best friend stumbled through her whispered words. "You're like never late."

"I was walking the tubes." I caught sight of my boss out of the corner of my eye, so I quickly shut myself up.

"Julianne!" He bellowed, waddling over on short stubby legs. His hair combed over his balding crown. When I said our food was crap I wasn't referring to everyone, just us in lower class. "This is the only warning I'll give, don't not be late again or I'll have them reassign you to the factories."

Elise and I watched as he grabbed a box off the table to our left. He tucked it under his short arm, resting it against one of his rolls. He turned and toddled back to the front of the store favoring his right foot.

"One day I hope he chokes on a sandwich." Elise hissed, crossing her arms.

"Most likely a stroke or a heart attack." I replied, walking into the stockroom. When I said earlier about the whole bricks coming in four flavors that only goes for lower class, like Elise and I. Fat cats like my boss, Robert, are considered upper class. They have a wider variety of foods to chose from.

He was from a wealthy back ground. His grandparents were some kind of oil tycoons before the bombs dropped and they paid a pretty penny to get in the complex. Which pretty much cemented him into a life of luxury. He can go places only other upper class can go. Places I could only dream of.

"Yeah, but choking on a sandwich would not only be far more entertaining but a fitting death as well. Anyway back to your tube story." We loaded a dolly full of boxes with the same dull clothes we were wearing.

"Right, the tube. It's was weird, I saw handprints on the side and foot prints on the ground. But there wasn't any leading to or away from the spot. Like they were dropped there and sucked back into whatever black hole they came from."

"And?" She asked excitedly, I met her eyes. I've been known to make up stories of the could of, would of, should of beens.

"I'm serious, this isn't a story." Fictional books have all been banned. The elites are worried that it'll implant ideas in the lower class that it's safe outside. Thus leading them to opening the compound doors. Not going to lie, I may or may not have a few illegal copies.

"You know as well as I do nothing survives out in that wasteland." She sighed, folding some shirts as she put them on the table.

"But what if something could? It would mean everything everyone knows is wrong."

"Would it be awesome? Certainly, cause no more Pudgy McPudgerson ruling over our lives but it's just not possible. The air is radioactive, so it can't breathe. The water is toxic, so it can't drink and nothing grows out there so no food." She shook her head, blonde hair whipped about. "The outside cannot sustain any kind of life."

"But what if they're wrong? What if they just think the air is still bad?"

"Jules, you go topside, you've seen the Geiger meter."

"Yes, I know and the numbers have never changed. What if it was damaged by the sands, and it's been broken this whole time?" I replied in a hushed tone as someone passed behind us.

"I'm sure they have someone who does maintenance on it, just like the tubes."

"I've been walking the tubes since I was ten. I've seen the crews six times fixing them and not once have I seen anybody doing work on the meter." Grabbing her by the shoulders, I looked her dead in the eye. "Something or someone was out there."

"Okay, fine, I'll humor you. So someone was out there. Where did they go? You said you saw no other prints. So where did they go?" Dang it, she had a point. I let her go, letting out a deep sigh. I felt my shoulders sag. "I don't mean to be mean, but, think about this logically?"

"You're right. It must have been a figment of my imagination." I dropped it, I knew I couldn't make a good point, at least not logically.

The rest of the day was spent stocking shelves and me trying to wrap my brain around the prints. Maybe I had been seeing things earlier or could the wind have displaced the sands to resemble foot prints. That wouldn't account for the handprints on the glass though. The last fix was just over a year ago, surely those would of been washed off in the rain. Then again could the gloves from the protective suits even make hand prints.

I was still deep in thought as I reached my locker. Absentmindedly I retrieved my jacket from it's depths.

"Earth to Jules." Elise waved her hand in front of my face.

"Huh? Sorry, I was thinking."

"Are you taking the tunnels home?" She enquired grabbing her purse.

"Not tonight, I'm going to take the tube back."

"Is that even safe?" Her brows knitted together as her voice raised a notched. There have been rumors of criminal activity that happens in the tubes at night. I have never seen it personally, nor have I ever met anyone who has been attacked either. Normally I don't take them at night, there aren't any lights in them so when the moon is gone or a storm rolls in it's pitch black.

"I'll be fine. Anyway, I'm running low on fare." I responded, shutting my locker. We walked to the front of the store together, Elise shook her head.

"I can spot you, I really don't like the idea of walking them at night." She paused, I turned to my friend, her face was etched with worry.

"Really, I'll be fine."

"Fine, since I can't get you to change your mind, will you at least call me when the home? Just so I won't stay up half the night worrying."

"Okay, mom." I teased, I pushed the door handle to the tube entrance as we parted ways.

I stepped out into the darkness, I inhaled a deep breath. Calmly I started my journey home, my foot steps echoing off the walls. I could hear the faint whisper of the sands as they whipped across the plexiglass. The path before me barely illuminated by the small sliver of moonlight that peaked around the edge of the clouds that were slowly rolling in.

I pulled my pepper spray from my pocket, yet another illegal item that I had acquired. The things you can get your hands on when you know the right people. I had only recently started carrying it after Robert had made a pass at me. He didn't like my response to his advances.

Slowly the tube began to darken completely. It didn't take long before I was surrounded by the inky blackness of the night. I took a slow breath trying to still my heart rate.

There is something about walking in the darkness that preys on your subconscious. Makes you aware of stuff that isn't really there. You see and hear things that aren't real , it's almost like it's hardwired into our DNA. Pareidolia, that's the name for it. Seeing a face in the curtains or hearing a phone ring while the shower is running.

I thought I saw something out of there as I continued walking through the tube. Whatever it was it was a good distance out, it might have been the silhouette of person I really couldn't be sure. Whatever it was, it seemed to be keeping pace with me.

I stopped, my heart slowly accelerating, as I took step to the tube wall. I pressed my face to the cool glass and wrapped my hands around my temples. Nothing just a dark void of nothingness was on the other side.

I had to have been seeing things. If it was out there, it had stopped moving and was no longer visible. I heard a plink on the ceiling of the tube, quickly succeeded by other. I couldn't see, but I knew it had started to rain. I dropped my arms to side and sighed.

I continued my walk home, my fingers gracing the cold glass for guidance. I listened to the song of the rain as it cascaded down from the heavens. Wondering if the droplets were cold or warm. A green bolt danced lazily across the sky. In that flash, I stopped dead in my tracks. The silhouette was still out there, parallel with me, I saw it just out of the corner of my eye.

Thunder rolled, as my heart leapt in my throat threatening jump from my body. My hand tremble against the wall, I knew I saw it. My mind was not playing tricks on me, something was out there. Another green flashed etched itself through the clouds, he was closer this time. He was watching me.

I took a deep breath as the air crackled with a loud rumble. I braced myself, willing myself not tremble as I again stepped up to the tube wall. I placed my shaking hands on the wall completely as I turned.

The sky lit up again, and he was standing before me on the opposite side of the glass. His dark brown hair hung just short of his massive shoulders, stringy from the rain. Mahogany eyes bore down upon me with curiosity. The thunder reverberated through the tube before the lighting had stopped.

It is at this point I wish I could say I stood transfixed, and excitedly watched the watcher watching me. Alas, I did what any normal, healthy person would do. I stumbled back screaming, losing my footing in the process and landed on my rear.

In hindsight, this was not the smartest thing I have ever done. Remember earlier how I said I could hear my own footsteps as I walked? Well, if you have stuck your head in a enclosed glass box and screamed you would know that that amplifies the sound.

Needless to say, my ears were ringing as I sprang to my feet and rushed down the hall. It was disorienting, running in complete darkness with a lazy green strobe light going off. I tripped a couple of time, my heart hammering hard in my chest, attempting to break free. Too scared to turn around to see if he was still there, I ran full speed down the enclosed corridor.

I didn't realize how far down the tube I was, but when my face greeted the door I figured out I must of been half through by the time I saw him. In retrospect, I'm really surprised I didn't knock myself out.

I threw the door open to my building and sprinted up the four flights of stairs. I pulled my keys from my pocket as I reached my apartment, the key shook in my trembling fingers. Finally I was able to get it in the lock. I turned the knob, threw open my door and slammed it behind me. I turned the thumb lock, re-locking the door behind me.

My lungs burned with that raw feeling as I sucked in air. My chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. I have no idea why I ran for my life, it's not like he could get in the building. All doors to the outside were locked and secured, there was no way in.

"What the heck Julianne?" My sister, Sasha, came bounding around from the kitchen to the living room.

"There was," I took a deep breath, locking eyes with confused woman. "Someone out there."

"Uh, yeah, that's what happens when you go to work. There's lost of someones." She smirked, leaning against the wall.

"No, outside." I rushed the window looking down, lighting lit up the sky but the ground was to far away to make anything out.

"Yeah, as I said there are people outside as rule." She jested, watching me in amusement.

"No, I mean outside outside. Not out side our place." I almost shriek, point out the window. "Out there!"

"What?" She rushed over the window, peering out. She turned and looked me, her eyes narrowed as her brows scrunched up. "I don't see anything, I think you hit you head to hard."

"No, I saw him first, then I hit my head."

"Oh, so now it's him?" She grinned, folding one arm over the other.

"Look, I saw foot prints this morning, on the outside of the tube." I stressed the second half of that statement before she could make another joke out of it. "And now I've seen him. How is this possible?"

"It's not, are you sure you saw someone? It's really dark out there." Her face was puzzled at my indignation, I didn't blame her. What I was saying didn't make any sense.

"I saw him when the lighting was going off, not just once or twice but three times. And one of those times he was as close me as you are." I looked back out the window, trying to wrap my mind around the whole ordeal. The phone rang somewhere behind me as I scoured the ground.

"Hey Elise." I heard Sasha in the kitchen. "She's home. And going on about some guy she saw outside the tube.'

'I know, I know. I'm still trying to calm her down right now. She's shaken up pretty good at the moment." I glanced over my shoulder at my sister, sighing heavily. I gave up and wandered back to my bedroom. Trying to explain this to either of them wasn't going to work.

I laid down on my bed, staring up at the white ceiling. His face flashed through my mind. He seem just a surprised to see me as I was of him. I know one thing, I was going to walk the tubes tomorrow to find him again, even if the meant all day

Permanent tag-

@kitkatkl @devilbat

[noficciondelacreole]

WHO AM I

BY SHANE RODRIGUEZ

When I was a kid, I used to believe that life would always be a fairytale, but I was wrong because at an early age, I woke up from my perfect dream land because reality hit me so hard. Always be happy. It's easy to say, but it is hard to do, especially when I'm in the middle of the confusion of the reality where I grew up. I need to understand that living in this world needs a deep understanding and long patience, but in order for me to do that, I need to discover my capability and know who I really am thoroughly first. Step by step to discover the world and acknowledge myself because sometimes I doubt if it is still me or it's just me because this is what other people want me to be. We cannot avoid seeing the flaws and imperfections of the world because they will throw an arrow against us while finding the right path ahead of us, but fighting with complete armor is the key to win the battle. And my failure does not define who I am; rather, it teaches me how to be in a better position to catch success. All I want to do is to have a good life, but there's still a puzzle that I need to solve and my ability is still limited.

On the other hand, I believe in myself that one day I can solve the puzzle and reach my infinite happiness without anyone's approval. Growing up, I always relied on my parents and the people around me so much that I forgot that I had my own mind, my own decisions to make, my own freedom, and I forgot that I had my own life. I am surrounded by elderly people who strongly believe in the old ways of living. I need to help my mother because she sells in the canteen, and if I don't help her, I won't be able to get my allowance for the day. I need to fold all the dry clothes before Monday because otherwise I won't be able to attend my class for the next day. I need to learn how to cook so if my parents are not home, I can still eat, and I need to learn how to wash the dishes and my own clothes. For years, I caged myself, believing all their words and norms, that I almost could not stand on my own feet, but maturity woke me up and opened my mind widely. I told them that this is the time for me to grow and made them understand that as a kid I also needed to know everything and understand things without them, but that doesn't mean that I don't need them anymore because I will always need their guidance. 

And I believe that all those experiences helped me a lot of who I am today because I can say that I molded myself into a well mannered and well disciplined lady. My whole existence is like a rainbow after a heavy rain. After I fall several times because of the hardships of life, I will push myself to get up and strive more. The story behind my nickname "Mahal" is one of the reasons why I need to work hard; my parents did everything for me so I could witness what the world could offer me. On the night of January 2, 2004, my mother felt severe pain in her stomach because she already felt that I was about to come out of her womb. They rushed to the provincial hospital, but suddenly the hospital was full and so they referred to the other public hospital, but it's located in General Santos City. At that time, my parents' life was so poor that they didn't have enough money for a private hospital near by. My uncle was a driver for Ribicco company, so they used the company truck to bring my mother to Gensan, but suddenly they were still in Polomolok and my mother's water had broken. The General Santos Doctors Hospital is the nearest hospital from Polomolok, so they had no choice but to bring my mother there or else we would both die. 

On January 3, 2004, my mother finally introduced me to the world. But, the hospital bill reached in excess of 100,000, so they named me "Mahal". My parents did everything to pay the hospital bill, even though they almost lost all of our cows and carabao, and my father also worked hard like a mad animal just to provide for all our needs. Those experiences inspired me a lot to have a high standard of dreams because my parents are already a standard. Every time I had a small fight with them, I always thought about what they sacrificed for me to see the beauty of the world. Even though sometimes I experienced the biases of the world, I still appreciated it because that was the reason why I can now say that I have shaped myself, not perfectly, but much better than before. My mother is originally from Surallah, South Cotabato, but her grandparents live here in Koronadal City, so they also transferred here because at least here they have a small income from farming. She is the first born with three more sisters. 

She graduated with flying colors from elementary to high school, but because of financial problems, she didn't make it until college even though she really wanted to, she tried to work in Manila because she wanted to earn money for her college, but another problem came because their youngest has a heart problem that requires her to stay in the hospital. My mother's salary is just enough to support her other sisters' school allowances, so she couldn't save her salary for college. After a year of going in and out of the hospital, my mother lost her sister and lost her dream. After going through those trials, her faith in God grew stronger because she truly believed in him and that everything has a purpose. On the other hand, my father came from Iloilo City before coming here to Koronadal City, and he's a happy-go-lucky type of guy. They're 13 siblings, and he also graduated from high school but, for the same reason, money is the hindrance so why can't he study in college. He needs to work for his siblings and for his own food and other needs because, obviously, his parents cannot provide everything for all of them. My parents met coincidentally in an unexpected place and time. 

They were already at the right age that time, so my father decided to court my mother, and there their love story started and ended in marriage. They promised each other that no matter what happened, they would get through all the problems and challenges in life. Both of them were Christians, so they believed in God thoroughly. After getting married, they made sure that their children would always be close to them and believe in God. They always remind us that if we have a problem and can't express it, we should pray to God and ask for his guidance to get through all of our difficulties, just like they did. So, every Sunday we really spend our one and a half hours going to church to thank God for everything we have. Our family is in a healthy relationship because of my parents' love, support, guidance, hard work, and unending sense of humor. They make our family happy and content every day. Communication is the key in having a good relationship, and because my parents are both Illongo, we communicated through Hiligaynon. But, as like any other family, we aren't perfect. My parents had arguments sometimes, I also have fights with my parents sometimes, and we don't always have enough money to provide for our needs and wants, but at the end of the day, we make sure to fix everything and find a solution to every problem we encounter, and I think that is one of the main ingredient for a strong and complete family. The road to success is like a plant versus zombies. I am walking slowly like a zombie together with my parents, who are always beside me. 

The struggles, problems, and hardships of life, the judgment of society, and the doubt of the people who didn't believe in me represent the plants because they will throw hurtful difficulties at me that will leave a scar inside of me but will always be my inspiration to achieve my high ambition. At the age of 18, I realized that the world would never be fair because, through biases, we can understand how to balance our needs and wants. The world teaches me how to be independent and strong because my parents will not be by my side forever. Right now, I am walking straight and I believe that after falling down from my past failure, I will still get up for my future. There are a lot of reasons to stop my journey here, but I know that I can be more than what I am today. Sometimes I forget who I am because I'm in a state of hesitancy about whether I'm doing the right thing or whether my actions are already more than my capacity. When I look at the mirror, I can see the young and innocent child with a lot of passion in her eyes to fly high. Her determination and confidence are all over her soul, searching for her light after the night. I have a lot of dreams and goals, so I will prepare myself for the next chapter of my life.

I choose to fight against the battle of life, so I might prepare for the worst before I can celebrate my success. While discovering the world and walking myself to the bridge of happiness, I am slowly understanding my own purpose. Planning and perseverance are the keys to unlock every door that is blocking and obstructing my dream. The arrow of success hasn't hit me yet, but the bow is already targeting me, and God is waiting for me to reach the last step of the staircase before he releases the arrow and gives me the trophy of success. Someday my parents will be proud of me, the people who doubted me will believe in me, and someday I will shout out loud that "Finally, I made it until the end because I believe in myself and I trust the process of the world"

[elliotakita]

I'll preface this by saying it's a bit of a rambling mess, but I hope I get the point across.

For starters though, you aren't endearing me to your point of view by implying that those who aren't currently showing and breeding don't spend as much on looking after their dogs. There are breeders which feed cheap food, race/work/show their dogs, and sell at a premium price, and there are breeders who pour most of their money and time into their dogs and sell at or below the average for the breed. Personally I feed the same food as racing whippets and greyhounds eat, both are trained far more thoroughly than your average pet, and I have spent a fortune on vet fees. I wash my dogs routinely, brush their teeth, feed them fish oil and eggs, bought them agility equipment, etc. because I want the best for them. I spend more on their care than my own and I'm sure good breeders feel the same way I do. You talked about elitism in dog breeding and what you said comes across the exact same way- that of course breeders are spending so much more time and money on their dogs than everyone else. It's a gross generalisation that can be used to exclude or discourage potential new dog owners and breeders.

Back on topic- If a breeder wants to factor in club memberships and the price of gaining titles that's completely fine by me, as it's a cost most people don't have. What I take real issue with is saying the initial purchase price and cost of feeding and vet care is a legitimate reason to bump up the price. I can't imagine justifying a reduction in food quality and care between a breeding age show animal and one that didn't make the cut (which is why I mentioned that neither of my dogs is a working animal despite coming from working/racing backgrounds). If they're going to be given A+ care, regardless of if they get the right titles and are clear on all health tests, why is that a factor in puppy prices? It feels like some breeders are really reaching to justify costs, which makes it look like they're treating their animals like a business investment rather than a pet.

Not to mention that a good quality bitch can have 2-4 litters in her lifetime, a dog can sire many more, specialty equipment usually lasts longer than one generation of animals, or that if a breeder really wanted to add the cost of annual food, supplements and medication they would have to account for the lifetime cost of the animal (divisible by however many litters it had). When you take out reusable, secondhand, or d.i.y.-able items/equipment, the purchase price of dogs and the initial 2 years of care (minus health tests solely for breeding purposes, club fees etc) the price of the litter is still high, but it doesn't give the horrible feeling that the breeder is more business-minded than passionate about improving their breed.

There may be someone out there that's done it, but I haven't ever seen manual labour added as a cost-factor for litters (at least not in £'s). Spending time with your animals, raising and training them, is part of the joy of owning and breeding, so I find it hard to wrap my head around your last point, sorry.

For me, that kind of thing is where it starts getting too close to a farm/mill mindset for me. It's the same reason I won't buy from breeders that rehome all their retired animals as soon as the last litter is gone.

I mentioned before, but I have occasionally noticed that American attitudes can be far different when it comes to making money and companion animals. Nobody would take a breeder seriously in this country if they charged £2-3,000 for my chosen breed, but I do realise that whippets and other sport/working dogs are sometimes seen as investment/profitable, even if I don't agree. We've recently seen a massive spike in puppy prices due to covid, where people are asking £3,000+ for an unregistered dog, which sparked off a huge heated debate in the breed groups I'm in on the cost of puppies and good breeding ethics (puppies usually cost an average of £600- £1,500) so I feel confident in saying that the general attitude is that breeding is a hobby you do for the love of your breed(s) and should expect to lose money on. Only a minority of breeders (who I assume felt attacked/forced to justify the higher end of average) focused on the business/profit aspect of dog breeding, which is associated with poor quality (backyard) breeders and puppy mills in the UK. I honestly don't know of anybody that breeds and makes a profit without cutting corners.

Tldr- Overall, I feel the cutoff for what is/isn't part of a singular litter cost is too lenient in your breakdown, and would personally put me off buying from a breeder that included everything you did. In the UK that can be a red flag that you aren't dealing with a reputable/responsible breeder.

smokemirrorswolves replied to your post

“The rising price of puppies is so heartbreaking for a lot of people….”

@doberbutts hey, if you had time at some point, would you care to break down what exactly is reflected in the price of a purebred puppy? I think a lot of people are struggling to imagine what could cost that amount of money, me among them tbh. thank you!

Sure, though I don’t breed, so it’s very possible I might be missing something!

Cost of the litter itself:

whelping box with or without rails

pen

potty supplies for puppies- pads, litter, bags, scoopers, etc

heating pads or lamps

formula and bottles (just in case)

medications and supplements (not always needed, good to have on hand)

blankets, beds

toys

colored puppy collars for identification (not always needed)

vaccinations (at least the first one)

deworming (several)

food (for mom AND pups)

temperament testing (if the breeder does not do it themselves- and even if they do, one must learn how which usually costs $$ or time to be mentored)

if puppy culture is used, understand that it costs a lot of money to get ahold of the materials for it

even if it is not used, proper early socialization, stress response, training and drives, etc require time, money, knowledge, and equipment

at least one vet check before going home

registration with AKC

microchip (some breeders have you do it but all of my breeder puppies had this done before going home)

cropping/docking (if applicable, understand this is why dobes cost so much bc that’s $400-700 PER PUPPY unless the vet cuts you a deal for doing the whole litter)

increased water and electric and trash costs - utilities ain’t cheap

overall time spent with the puppies (most breeders if not retired take off work to whelp and raise a litter… that’s 8+ weeks of either vacation pay or no pay at all)

travel costs to and from vets, new owners, etc

Cost of PRODUCING the litter:

stud dog fee (not applicable if using their own stud)

health testing on the parents (variable, can be as low as $100 per parent or as high as several thousand, obv if they don’t own the stud they don’t pay for that)

if using live cover- either travelling to the stud or having the stud go there

if using AI- that’s already pretty expensive

C-section (if applicable, always good to have the money on hand just in case)

multiple vet visits and travel costs for the bitch (confirm pregnancy, canine STI check, making sure to breed when she’s hormonal most likely to conceive, etc)

supplements and high quality food for the bitch

medications to help induce or ease labor

treatments to help the bitch let milk down or clear an infected/impacted teat

medical supplies for the human to ensure a sanitary and safe environment to whelp (gloves etc)

Cost of the parents:

general care (food, physicals, vaccinations, etc)

titling (if applicable)

training

obtaining the dog in the first place

So what does this exactly mean? Let’s say a low-ball estimate is $8000 for the first two factors combined (so not cost of parents) (and that IS a fairly low estimate, at least for dobermans). Now let’s say that the bitch produces 8 puppies. Selling them at $1000 apiece means the breeder breaks even, and that also means time and money was actually lost as the cost sunk into the parents hasn’t been factored in yet.

Let’s say the breeder owns both parents and bought them at $1000 each. The low end of the average cost per year for dogs is $1500- so with both dogs that’s $3000 per year. Dogs should be at least two years old before breeding, so we’re at $6000 (general care) + $2000 (purchase price) if this is the first litter for both of them. Titling can really depend, some breeds title very quickly and easily for under $1000. Others take several thousands to finish. Let’s just say an incredibly conservative estimate is $500 per dog- we’re now at $9000 for the cost of the parents.

So if that breeder wants to break even, they can’t even just double the price ($2000 per puppy) because they’re still taking a $1000 loss. Now the puppies need to cost $2125.

Let’s hope a puppy doesn’t die, or that no fluke accidents or weird health concerns pop up, because things are about to get even more expensive very quickly if that happens. Let’s say the breeder wants to keep one- that means that there are actually 7 puppies that can be sold, not 8. Now the puppies have to cost roughly $2430 and there’s a very slight profit of about $10 there.

What if they don’t own both parents, just the bitch? Well that takes our estimations down by half, so now the litter cost $12500 to make. The 7 puppies can be priced all the way down to $1785 while taking a loss of a couple dollars. Oops, the stud owner wants one on top of their stud fee, make that 6 puppies- now they’re back up to over $2000 again.

Remember when I said these are low estimates? Okay, so let’s gauge high estimates:

Even with no complications the highest I’ve seen for total breeding expenses was $25000. Even if you sell all 8 puppies at cost, so a zero profit margin… that’s $3125 per puppy.

God help you, and your buyers, if your bitch whelps less than that, if there’s a complication, if for whatever reason a puppy is not sellable.

Creed’s breeder spent $10k on stud fee, AI, emergency C-section, and resulting infection cost alone. Her bitch gave her one single puppy. She usually charged $2k per puppy. Do you see the problem here?

Additionally there’s this weird like… stigma about making money breeding animals. Listen, yes, capitalism ruins everything, and the focus should be on the animals and not the amount of zeros in your bank account… but at the same time, whelping by itself is a lot of work and dogs are a fairly expensive hobby. As a dog trainer, an artist, a programmer… I demand payment and profit for my work. I cannot eat if I only break even. Yet breeders are told that it’s bad to make money off their dogs and that they have to have some other source of income. Why? There’s a line to be balanced here on getting fair payment for the amount of work they’re putting in vs pricing themselves out of the market.