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clansayeed · 4 years

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Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 17: The Show Must Go On

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Because tomorrow is no longer guaranteed the gang decides to spend a night at the theatre. In which Cal despises Shakespeare, Garrus and Krom go on an unofficial first date, and Taylor confronts his father.

[READ IT ON AO3]

He’s honestly surprised the director even bothers reaching out to him.

“Given everything your cousin has told me about the problems you have going on right now, I’m sure this isn’t really a surprise. I’ve taken the liberty of filing a personal leave of absence for you.” And Taylor just knows that was the happiest day of Antoni’s life…

“Even though you can’t be in the show, though, you’re still welcome to come Sunday. Hoping that, obviously, things have cleared up on your end by then. Just text me your head count before noon day-of, okay?”

It’s the first real and true good thing to happen without immediate consequence so far. And of course he tries to blow it off, tries to tell everyone he has absolutely no plans to put anyone else at risk just for the selfish sake of seeing a play he’s worked on for months and doesn’t even get to be in.

Not that anyone lets him finish before they straight-up tell him he’s wrong, he’s going, and if all hell breaks loose then they’ll deal with it when it happens.

“But the wards —”

“The wards have proven themselves useless,” Garrus interrupts with no small level of frustration; accepting the vulnerability of his sanctuary hasn’t been easy on the man, “we’re just as exposed here as you would be there. And I refuse to cower in fear. If they were going to attack they would have by now — don’t stop living your life because of what might happen.”

Surprisingly, too, Katherine makes a good point; “We might actually be safer surrounded by all those mundanes. A high fatality rate isn’t what the Elders are after, that much is certain.”

It’s about the only thing any of them are certain of.

So there’s really no way around it.

Sunday morning he tries to take a head count. Doesn’t argue when Vera, despite the dark circles of exhaustion under her eyes, insists that of course she wants to come. She doesn’t say it but its obvious she could use time away from the hospital and her mother’s bedside.

Nik’s phone vibrates on the table and Taylor glances just because he’s nearby. On really good timing the man chooses then to wander out from the bedroom — rubbing his hair vigorously with his towel.

“Kathy said she and Cade are down if we don’t mind.” One look and Taylor regrets it so bad. He’s not certain, but there’s absolutely no way all of his shirts have miraculously shrunk, right?

He totally has to buy them just shy of too tight.

Not that Taylor’s complaining. Nope. No complaining here.

Ryder gives a noncommittal grunt and shrug as he passes. “Your shindig, your choice.”

“I mean they’re our friends, so…”

There’s a pause; a lag in the matrix if you will, between when Nik stops in front of the fridge and actually opens it. Keeps his back turned as he replies, “Then the more the merrier.”

He doesn’t need to be part fae to know what that’s about — but it doesn’t hurt.

The concept of friends is plural and consistent. And just as weird for him as it is for the loner Nik is accustomed to being.

Yesterday was hard and heavy.

Today is no better from a cosmic point of view.

But its softer around the edges; the difference between being stabbed with a wicked sharp dagger and being punched in the face.

Nik all but flops down on the couch beside him; pushes the open guide on reading and interpreting tarot that Taylor’s been pouring over away with a socked foot.

“I was reading that.”

“Oops.” The only unapologetic apology he’s getting, too, so he takes it.

Its been nearly twenty-four hours since his emotional breakdown and in that time he’s learned more about Ryder — and vice versa — than would have been shared on five, six dates tops. Things that wouldn’t come up without specific and out-of-left-field context, too.

Like the fact that Nik is a cheap-ass (this he knew) who has a serious case of the moonlight munchies — two things that mix about as well as oil and water. So it makes sense now why half of the fridge’s sparse contents are signature drink and cocktail add-ons.

Does it justify the fact that a fully grown man is sitting very close to him popping green olives like pieces of candy? Not in the fucking slightest.

But he knows what’s going to happen the second Nik sees his disgust — tries his best to turn away before he’s caught. Only he’s not quick enough and its too late.

“Want one?” Nik asks even though he knows the answer.

He doesn’t have time to deflect because the man picks one up and tosses it — doubles over in laughter when it bounces off Taylor’s cheek, falls to the floor, and rolls under the nearest chair to die alone.

“What are you,” he fake-gags and wipes his cheek angrily, “twelve years old?”

His glare very nearly breaks under the sheer audacity of Ryder’s pouting face. Only nearly because there’s no fucking way he’s kissing that offensive mouth no matter how closely the man leans in. “Aw c’mon Rook — jus’ one kiss!”

“Get away from me! Ew!”

“You know you like me~”

“Wrong! Incorrect! You disgust me!”

And of course they’re joking but he’s maybe a little too loud in his protests. Earns himself a haughty snort and a glare directed at his feet of all things.

“You walk around barefoot and I’m the disgusting one.”

“That’s what I said.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Uh, I do — so I win.”

Despite the fact that they had spent the previous hours getting to know not only (truly repulsive) snacking habits but also (much less repulsive, like the opposite of repulsive actually) one another’s mouths, Nik follows the same pattern each time. Roams his eyes over every inch of Taylor’s face like he’s gung-ho on taking the test in his sleep — drags a fingernail feather-light over the scruff on his jawline.

Their first time hadn’t been enough to ward him away and for that Taylor’s pretty fucking grateful. But it left a mark on him. No doubt its the reason why he always takes five whole agonizing seconds between the start and the follow-through.

Like he’s giving Taylor time to pull back; to reject him without consequence.

Maybe one day they’ll laugh about it. A silly habit no longer necessary. Because there’s always a breath hidden in the meeting of mouths that tastes of bitter relief.

Nik is relieved — not once, or twice, but every single time.

Which is more than a little tragic when he gives it a deep thought. He tries not to — really, he does.

Its easy not to think about anything at all when they’re kissing.

So that’s something.

Taylor knows that glamours serve a specific purpose; to disguise the average not-human supernatural person among the average yes-human person.

He’s even come to terms with how easily they fade into the background now. How he can scan a crowd and catch a glimpse of hooves in place of boots or a tail whipping its way behind someone trying to pass by. He considers his largest achievement to be not jumping ten feet in the air at the difficult-to-describe sight of ghosts possessing glamoured bodies.

But he can know and process all of these things and still be almost alarmingly paranoid about the trio of Krom, Garrus, and Ivy waiting in line behind them, right?

Nik grabs his head before he can look back for the umpteenth time; turns it back forward with a grunt. “The only one looking weird here is you, Rook. Everyone else sees regular folk.”

And he knows that, he does. But… “Do you ever stop worrying about it, like, slipping or something?”

“Not my problem if it does.”

“Well yeah, but…” The line shuffles forward and he trails off. Probably better not to give those particular anxieties a life of their own by voicing them aloud.

He doesn’t have to anyway, apparently. Since Taylor finds himself pulled against Nik’s side, feels warm breath tickle in his ear.

“Don’t worry. You still look completely human.”

“For now.”

The performer playing Puck stands in half-costume at the front of the line with a clipboard in hand. He has a whole two-point-five seconds to remember her name — Dana? Debbie? D-something. D-something… fuck there are too many D-something names! — before its their turn to enter the theatre.

Daphne! It comes to him like a holy revelation as she starts to go through the motions — only to notice the name and double-take in surprise.

“Hey Hunter, how’s it going?” Her small-talk is strained but polite. They’ve run lines together and he can vaguely recall being educated on her literal herd of mini dachshunds once, but whatever his ‘cousins’ gave by way of excuse for him pulling out of the show is enough to make her sheepish.

He makes a mental note to corner Garrus for the full story after the show. Especially since ‘cousin’ is a more-or-less accurate term these days.

“Uh, you know,” a one-shouldered shrug, “hanging in there. You excited?”

To her credit as an actress she checks off each body accompanying him, all eight of them, without batting an eye.

“Totally. I’m just glad the actual opening night ain’t until Mardi Gras is over, you know?”

“Director didn’t let you work the beads into your improv then I take it?”

They share a laugh. She waves them inside.

Only when they’re around a corner does Taylor let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Vera gives him a nudge. “You okay?”

“Yeah — was it just me or was that…”

Cal pokes his head in between them. “Awkward as hell? No—it wasn’t just you.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

In less than a week he’s forgotten how to, well, be human. Socialize with humans, talk casually with humans. Its unnerving — not only that but it serves to remind him by the way the Coven and their pet skeleton assassin are still out there.

None of this is even close to being over and he’s already forgotten small talk?

What else might be lost along the way?

“You look like you’re thinkin’ too much about something.”

Taylor’s smile is strained and not enough to ease Nik’s doubts. What did he expect though; that one soulful look from those fathomless eyes, or a touch that sends shivers down his spine, or one of those disarmingly sincere smiles is all it would take to make him forget his worries completely?

If only it were that simple. Not that he’s turning any of those things down — no no, he’s free to keep trying as many times as he’d like.

Its a half-full house on purpose; one full run in front of a crowd before a week of changes to make the final thing as smooth as possible.

And it was supposed to be Taylor’s time to shine; a performance of understudies. He’s told himself there will be other opportunities, that this is for the best given what’s going on. He wanted to come to support his fellow actors — to celebrate in all the work they’ve done over the last few months.

He didn’t think it would be that hard to watch. Then the space goes dark and silence falls in a warm velveteen hush.

The trio of Theseus, Hippolyta, and Philostrate take the stage — a different blocking than what they used at his last rehearsal.

The heels of his palms are pressed hard to stop his tears before Theseus even opens his mouth.

To his left Vera lets out a soft noise; both sad and comforting as her tentative hand on his shoulder turns into slow circular motions on his back. And he knows the heat-leeching palm behind him is Cal. Cal didn’t even want to come — had made it very clear there was once a school play, a bad batch of cafeteria vegetables, and a lifelong aversion to Shakespeare whose details would never again see the light of day. But there he is giving comfort where he can. He’s probably glad for something else to focus on than the stage but he knows Cal by now — knows he does nothing without meaning to do it.

Just when Taylor’s sure he’s going to have to make a mad dash for the doors, however, a familiar hand slides into his. Nik’s focus is still intent on the scene unfolding but he squeezes his fingers and doesn’t seem to care about the tears between their palms.

He’s supposed to be up on that stage. He’s supposed to be sweating under the heat of the lights and praying to the thespian gods that the tape on his mic holds fast. He’s supposed to be giving the performance of his life to an audience of friends and loved ones knowing Kristin was back in New York, that his mother couldn’t make it, and that there was no one watching that was there just for him.

Instead he’s here in the crowd. Instead he’s surrounded by friendship’s concern and holding the hand of the guy who seems to be making it a habit of standing in between him and certain death.

Instead he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

When the lights slide back on for intermission Cadence whirls around in his seat, arm thrown over the back, to practically barrage Krom with questions about artistic representation, choices made and things changed.

It feels a little bit like being back in a college classroom. Not the first time Cade has that effect on people.

“I — I really only helped with small stuff,” the stone troll stammers his protests, “heavy lifting or working on things normal people couldn’t reach.”

“But you’re a writer are you not?”

“An amateur at best…”

But the vampire isn’t having it. “Nonsense, I’ve caught snippets of your work. I only mean —”

“Ugh, just humor the man will you?” Katherine groans, rolls her head back on her own seat with a lighthearted glare between the two.

Nik pulls Taylor’s attention away from their talk with an arm around his shoulder. “How’s it so far? On the other side of the stage.”

“They changed a few things —” — more than a few, and more to do with Oberon than any other character so three guesses who made that call — “— but I honestly just keep counting their steps for the blocking.”

“Nerd,” scoffs the man, and Taylor isn’t exactly going to deny it.

Actually, since they have a second…

Last he knew, being borderline psychic was his thing, not Ryder’s. But Nik’s moved his legs before Taylor even stands and makes him backtrack real quick on that.

“I figured you’d wanna go say hey to them, or whatever,” and though that’s the spoken explanation Taylor can’t stop himself from feeling the real intention behind it.

He just cares.

He ducks his head to hide a flushed smile; murmurs “thanks” and lets his lips linger at the corner of Nik’s mouth as he shimmies into the aisle.

Only when he’s at the door does it occur to him that this thing between them is a recent one, and they’ve not mentioned things like public affection. But judging by the look he throws over his shoulder — catches Ivy hitting the man on the arm repeatedly and the bewildered grin on her undead face?

Its just another thing to tease him over.

Its standard stuff; the small lines by the bathrooms, crew members in their all-black ensembles bustling this and that around. All things he’s familiar with — that he doesn’t bat an eye at.

Then he spares a glance — less than that, actually, calling it a glance is somehow generous — down one of the hallways leading to further seating. The lights are off, the doors no doubt locked. Makes sense for an audience this size.

He doesn’t know why he does. Only knows both suddenly and all at once who he’ll see in the shadows beyond.

Taylor wants so badly to just ignore it. To reach out and knock on the doors to the maze of back rooms and do exactly what he planned on; congratulating his fellow performers.

But he doesn’t.

By now Taylor’s helped Garrus enough in the bottomless pit he calls a storage room to know that fae folk don’t ‘glow.’ They just always look like they do.

Elric, too, looks like he snatched a few moonbeams for himself on his way inside.

The shadows don’t retreat from him but they are withered by his presence; by the aura of him. Had he looked like that in Lamrian, as natural as light itself? Or was he witnessing yet another new facet to his senses brought on by interference of the man who really shouldn’t be here.

When Taylor opens his mouth to speak nothing comes out; a dozen questions all fighting to leap from the tip of his tongue and giving him pause.

Finally he settles on something more akin to an accusation.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

He doesn’t mean to wound the fae Lord — but also won’t deny that the recoil of remorse he gets in response isn’t a teeny bit satisfying.

“No, I should not.”

“Glad we agree.” Of course he wants to ask why are you here but he shouldn’t have to.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t. “I caught whispers of this event within your mind. Lines from a script, a dedication — a pride. I wished to see what it truly was. Living Memories are shaped by the person to whom the memories belong.”

And here he had thought he’d be spared of a headache tonight, of all nights.

“I — what I — there’s so much to unpack there,” and nothing amused in his dry laugh either, “so we’ll start with the fact that I didn’t do a—a Living Memory-thing. I don’t even know how.”

“To accept Memories is to offer up your own.”

“Gee, that would have been nice to know.”

“Do not blame yourself —”

“Oh, I’m not. No worries there.”

“I should have explained it to you. Not then; not in such dire times.”

“Then when?”

“Long before now.” Elric’s eyes are like diamonds; diamonds twisted into sharp, construction-grade drills trying to puncture holes straight through him. The intensity is unnerving if he’s being honest.

About as unnerving as getting what he’s pretty sure is a ‘More Proactive Parent’ apology from this guy he literally just met the other night. Not even a guy — a fae.

Elric reaches out as if to touch his hand. The movement is enough — breaks Taylor from his little trance so he can pull back. Pale fingers instead close around air and grieve their mistake.

“I did not like the way things were left in Lamrian, Taylor.”

Taylor — like he has any right to say the name he chose all on his own.

“That’s your problem. But yeah, I can see how refusing to help your own son to save yourself might leave a bad taste in your mouth.”

It’s a very nice burn, high five kind of moment right up until the shadows creep up onto the fae’s expression. “I have the safety of an entire community to put first. Forgive me for prioritizing my life’s work and the many lives under my care over the child who only seems to acknowledge our connection when it suits his insults.”

Damn… nice burn… high five…

“Are you, Taylor?”

He swallows the lump in his throat. “Am I what?”

“Are you acknowledging me as your…?” He leaves it hanging there, juicy bait in murky waters. And Taylor isn’t starving — not quite yet — but he’s definitely not full either.

He glances back to the theatre atrium.

The background noise is quieter down here but soon enough everyone will be heading back to their seats. No doubt the curtain won’t even be fully opened before Nik is bounding out the doors to find him.

“Look, Lord Elric…”

Who acts like the title brings him pain; “Please, call me —”

“— I’m not calling you Dad; or Pop, Father, or any variation thereof —”

“If you would listen as often as you speak. I would ask you to call me Elric.”

Even that feels like a boundary they shouldn’t cross. What good is to come of being friendly, getting to know one another — especially when he’s facing the very likely chance of being dead by Tuesday?

On the other hand, whispers a voice in the back of his head, what’s the harm in getting to know your actual father — especially facing the very likely chance of being dead by Tuesday?

First, how rude can you be? Second, nobody asked you, rude little voice.

But after several dragging moments of internal arguing the voice ends up winning. Still rude though.

“What do you want out of this, Elric? What did you hope to gain from coming here?”

He looks almost affronted. “I wished to… connect with you. You are… my child. A miracle I had not even believed let alone known of.”

My child. Two simple words that ring in his ears unpleasantly.

“My plate’s full enough. I don’t know if I have room for ‘connecting.’”

“Would it not be worth trying?”

Taylor throws his hands up in exasperation. “Maybe! Fuck — maybe… maybe if I wasn’t so scared of dying. Or if I thought I had the time. But whatever the Coven Elders are planning it’s —”

Elric’s eyes widen, but that isn’t what cuts him off. Every hair on his body stands up at the same time. Without a chill, without a touch. It’s a feeling; powerful and consuming and coming from the fae Lord.

“Oh right,” because Elric refused to help and they’d gone to the Elders and that was that, “you don’t know. Yeah, the Coven’s the one who summoned the wraith. It’s a whole thing — I don’t have the time to go into it and I kinda don’t even want to because tonight was supposed to be one last attempt at normal but joke’s on me I guess.”

“You will make the time.”

He’d consider going at him for trying to use what he probably thinks is a tone of fatherly authority on Taylor — if it wasn’t so strikingly familiar. Commanding the wisdom and strength of his years both gone and yet to come. It demands respect, to be heard and the weight of every word understood.

Its the Elric he’d met for the first time in the Beau-Keyes Garden, and its kind of a relief.

Would have been useful yesterday, though.

He sums the encounter up as best he can; keeps throwing looks back over his shoulder as a sort of passive-aggressive-meets-non-confrontational way of saying he’s being held up.

And yes, logically he should be happy Elric is changing his tune no matter the reason. But he’s petty and spiteful and hey, nobody’s perfect.

By the time Taylor finishes Elric is already deep in thought — strings of thought becoming ropes, knots; an intricate web displayed across his entire person with just a look.

Another one of those looks he’s seen in the mirror, actually.

But they’re just thoughts. Not actions. He doesn’t need to be a little psychic to know that.

“No doubt my breath would be a wasted one were I to ask you to return to Lamrian with me.”

Elric means well — but that doesn’t make it any better.

“What, like — leave my friends behind to die and abandon the entire community that doesn’t even know what’s coming for it?”

He doesn’t say anything; doesn’t have to. “And—And what would I do,” continues Taylor, “just hang out with you and your wife, maybe do something productive like learn the pan flute or whatever?”

“This is not a matter to make light of.”

“You’re damn right it isn’t!” Fuck it, he’s shouting and doesn’t care who hears now. “I can’t believe you. Cowering in safety alone is one thing but to try and drag me down with you? That’s messed up; you’re messed up.”

“You do not know of what you speak — of the centuries our kind spend trying to conceive.”

“I’m not one of you.”

“You are, denying it hurts only yourself. By all accounts you are a miracle, Taylor. But children among the fair folk are few and far between. So for you to stand there — to twist my words as though they mean nothing…”

It’s a little hard to keep his composure when Elric’s voice cracks. It doesn’t make any of it okay — not by a long shot — but there’s a wrongness to that tone normally even and cultured sounding choked with emotion.

He even tries to swallow it down. It doesn’t work. “I have seen the cost of bravery. And to see you so passionate — so determined to fight this battle that I am certain was never meant to be yours. It ensnares me in a way you cannot yet understand. Pride overtakes me, yet I am made immobile.

“I have seen enough in my life to know when fighting is parallel to dying. No matter how brief the battle or noble the purpose there are some forces that cannot be overcome.”

He takes Taylor’s hand. Clammy and cold and he tries to hide it but Taylor knows the effects of a panic attack from personal experience that no matter how refined the otherworldly creature is you can’t always hide the tremors in your fingertips.

Like before he feels a tug in his gut. Something hooking into his center of gravity and puling him, or his essence, closer.

Hears the fae clear in his mind; terrified, heartbroken, too much.

I could not bear the sight of you among the casualties. Do not ask it of me. I beg of you.

Over-thinking about the heartbreak in every word, about the things he can’t possibly understand that allow Elric to feel so much and so hard for a person he doesn’t know — it’s not a luxury Taylor can afford right now. And not just because the emotional depth it requires might very well bring him to tears again.

So he squeezes that pale grip tight, the only solidarity he allows himself to muster, then lets go.

“I can’t.”

“Taylor —”

“No, really Elric, I can’t.” He steps back; creates distance between them both physically and on a deeper level. “I wasn’t supposed to be a part of this — I wasn’t. I’m only being targeted because of you; because I’m your son. You know what the Elders called me? They called me an ‘unseen complication.’ And up until right now it’s really bugged me. By all accounts I’ve not made anything complicated except for the lives of my friends.

“But maybe I’m not done yet, you know? Maybe there’s more for me to do. Probably not, let’s be real, but I have to try. Nik— Nik is trying, and he’s never done that before. Kathy and Cade don’t have any stake in this but they keep trying because they’re good people. Cal wants to make this city safer for his brother and Vera… she could have run back to New York at any time but she hasn’t.

“I’m not gonna stand here and say I fully understand what’s going on. But that doesn’t mean I should cut and run. I think its because I don’t know jack-shit that I can do the most good. Or, you know, at least try to.”

He falters at the end; never one to finish strongly in situations like these. Would he like for Elric to stay, to try like the rest and do some good — of course.

But any part of him left hesitant about his involvement is gone now. So he can thank the fae for that at the very least.

Wow, is this what emotional growth feels like? That warm feeling in his chest spreading out to the tips of his fingers and toes, the pride in his actions, the sense of accomplishment however small?

Kristin is going to be so proud of him when she wakes up.

He doesn’t realize he’s waiting for Elric to respond until he inhales deeply. Looks Taylor over with those same eyes somehow changed. Like he’s really seeing him for the first time.

“You are brave — braver than most.”

“No I’m really not. But I’m scared enough to want to do something about it.”

“Very well. Whatever you wish to call it… the quality is an admirable one.”

“You should try it out sometime.”

“Perhaps you can show me how, one day.” But not this day.

That’s it then. The arguing, the impassioned speeches, all of it and Elric still plans on hiding.

Fine. He’s done trying to make the man see reason.

“I’m gonna get back to the show — my company’s worked hard for this and even though I’m not up there, I deserve the chance to see it through.”

Just as resigned as he had been in Lamrian, Elric closes himself off when he tucks his clasped hands in his sleeves. Beautiful embroidery becoming his wall against the world.

Against the terrible things about to happen.

“You will find no time has passed,” he says to Taylor’s surprise, “I had hoped you would return with me. The chance to say farewell to your companions was the least I could offer.”

Implications aside… “Thanks, I guess. I’ll see you around, Elric.”

“Nothing would bring me greater joy.”

He’s halfway down the hall when a definite something comes over him. Is there such a thing as too much emotional growth? It tastes a little bit like he’s downed a shot of vinegar.

It makes him turn back; it knows the other man is still there — watching.

“You risked your life coming here — in person.”

Elric nods. “Yes.”

“All the things you’re staying out of the fight for; your people, Thalissa — if the bloodwraith showed up…”

“I knew the risk.”

“But it’s temporary, so that makes it okay.”

“What it does it make it a risk worth taking.”

“There it is then…” and Taylor almost can’t believe he’s saying this, but — “Come on, there’s a few empty seats in front of us. You can take one of those.”

Maybe he’s spent enough time in the fae’s presence now to understand and see every emotion he expresses. Small flickers and ticks in facial features — and that’s being generous.

Confusion. Contemplation. Understanding. Surprise.

And more than a little heartbreak.

“The longer I stay here the greater the chance of discovery by the creature.”

“Yeah, well you’ve been here a pretty long time already. What’s an extra hour or two?”

“The difference between life and death.”

“A fair point. Counter— you wanted to spend time together, Pop.” He pops his lips on the word. And funnily enough that seems to be what does the job.

There was no reason to doubt Elric’s truthfulness but he’s still relieved when they walk back into the theatre and the curtains are still drawn.

It would be helpful if someone turned around to see them; if they warned the others. But unfortunately (for Garrus) it’s a complete surprise when they greet his return… with company.

“Look who I found at the concession stand.” Taylor throws his arm around Elric’s shoulder and squeezes for the humor of it. Shit he probably should have asked if the man had a glamour.

Well, no one’s staring or screaming yet, so probably a good sign.

The general aura of confusion is broken by Garrus who, impossibly enough, looks more pale than usual. Beside him Krom is halfway reaching out; as if to shield his unspoken crush from Elric’s unseen wrath.

“Hey there, Rook,” Nik’s look of ‘what the literal?’ doesn’t stray from the fae’s ethereal glow, “thought you were goin’ backstage.”

Because this was his fault? “Oh, I was. But then I got to thinking — it’s a friends and family viewing so, you know, why not call my estranged father Elrond?”

“Elric.”

Sigh. “I know. It’s a joke.”

Elric nods. “Ah, I see.” No he doesn’t, but that’s not the point. Actually that he doesn’t is what makes it a little bit funnier.

But Taylor realizes quickly that he’s made a mistake in just assuming this would be okay. Garrus has never been quiet for this long and it makes everyone a little on edge. What happens when the man who always has something to say falls silent?

“You look well, Gallus.”

Garrus flinches violently at the name; at Elric’s attempt to cut through the tension. “That isn’t my name and you know it.”

“It was once.”

“Not anymore.” Garrus looks to Krom in surprise. Its the most intimidating the gentle giant has ever sounded. Though rage literally flickers as flames in Ivy’s cursed eyes she manages to look at him with pride.

It seems Taylor isn’t the only one who’s grown as a person tonight, though. As the discomfort rises to an almost stifling level the Lord bows his head, speaks somber and its enough to make everyone take a breath.

“I wish not to intrude on your time, Garrus,” Garrus who reaches absently for something to ground him and finds it in Krom’s hand clasping his, “only to take what precious moments my child allows me to possess.”

Way to push the blame on Taylor.

Taylor who struggles for something to say; an apology, a get out of here, anything. “I didn’t — I mean I — Garrus if —”

He raises a hand and Taylor’s glad for the opportunity to bite his tongue. Finds relief in the fact that Garrus still manages a smile his way.

“You couldn’t know. And it doesn’t bother me, honestly —” — especially not when he has Krom’s hand to squeeze where the seats separate their thighs — “— as long as my old landlord respects his boundaries, and doesn’t have an ulterior motive.”

“I do not.”

“Pinky swear?”

Elric doesn’t understand and it shows; some kind of power move Garrus relishes in by grinning at the laughter that ripples through them and breaks the tension.

The room grows dark as the company prepares to resume. Taylor awkwardly (and if he’s honest, uncomfortably) ushers Elric into the seat parallel to his a row forward. Close enough to count as ‘spending time together’ while also glad to be a buffer between his fae father and Garrus.

Velvet curtains pull apart with a flourish. Just before the cast begins Taylor manages to lean back and give a real apology to his friend.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked first.” He whispers.

Garrus places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Really, darling, no big deal here.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky.”

He can’t remember the last time he made any promises so important as pinky promises. But he and Garrus link little fingers and exchange small smiles just in time for Titania to begin her lines.

With a deep breath of courage and only after finding Nik’s hand in the dark he leans again, forward this time, and directs Elric’s attention to the performance.

“Okay, so quick recap. There are four lovers, right, Helena who loves Demetrius, who loves Hermia, who loves Lysander, but the thing is…”

#nightbound #choices nb #playchoices fanfiction #nik ryder x mc #nik ryder #katherine nightbound #cal lowell #vera reimonenq #oc: cadence smith #garrus #ivy #krom #nightbound mc #mc: taylor hunter #oblv: bound by circumstance #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

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urdbell18 · 4 years

Text

A Seed Hidden in the Heart Chapter 19: The One With the Dog

Wow I'm shocked that I was able to finish this chapter but I did! Yay me! But speaking up as you guys know two of the busiest retail holidays are coming up, Thanksgiving and Christmas. It means that I'm not going to have as much time as before to write my chapters so if my updates are a little slow that's why and I apologize. I just wanted to give you guys fair warning and thanks for understanding. Enjoy!

In the summer months Zelda took a job at the local college. The position was temporary, ending just before regular school started once again but it gave her something to do and a little more money over the summer than the packet that she got when school ended. When she collected her last paycheck Mr. Hawthorne said in so many words that she was getting a little bonus because of the several high scores that her students received. It turned out making her students taking that college level test paid off for her in the end. Mr. Hawthorne took all the credit of course. Zelda couldn’t bring herself to care anymore. Her work schedule was Monday and Friday mornings and Monday and Wednesday afternoon so the earliest she’s ever had to go in was nine and the latest she’d be there was almost 5. It worked well enough for her.

The time that she was at the school Vida was with Mary. Together she and Mary came up with activities that they could do with Vida over the summer. The aquarium and the zoo were on the list because they were things that Vida did and loved and wanted to do again but there were others like some crafts, swimming, and a small local theme park, Vida was excited about that one the most. Bust most of the time Mary kept it simple, spending time at home reading or going to the park. They spent a lot of time at the park. Sometimes Zelda would join them for lunch, usually on Mondays or Fridays but she could pull it off on Wednesdays if she wanted to. Wednesdays were usually the days that Mary and Vida went to Zelda, they would have lunch in the cafe before Zelda had to go to her next class.

It was during one park outing where Vida and Mary met him.

It was early June. The weather was nice but not stifling like July and August would be. Everything was still vibrant with color, the grass, the trees, and the flowers, all brightly colorful swaying in the gentle summer breeze. With it still being nice Mary and Vida took a walk.

There was a jogging path right next to the park and when it was nice like it was that day they walked the path. Vida liked looking at the flowers and Mary just like the soft exercise and time with Vida. Vida was curious about everything, Mary told her what she could like what a certain flower or tree was called and Mary loved how Vida would stop and watch the movements of the current bug or small creature, mostly squirrels, that caught her attention. On that day they were halfway through the walking path when a rustling of leaves from a nearby shrub caught their attention. Out of fear Vida moved behind Mary as the rustling grew louder until a dog appeared out into the open.

The dog was between medium and small. It was long like a dachshund or a corgi but just slightly taller than either of those breeds. The dog had all the markings of the hound breed, short fur with a white belly, muzzle, and paws and brown and black patches all along its body but Mary couldn’t tell if it was a beagle or a basset hound. The dogs muzzle was too short for either of those breeds but its ears were very beagle-ish. The dog saw them and its tail starts wagging, causing his whole body to wiggle, mouth open to let its tongue roll out to one side.

“It’s a puppy!” Before Mary could stop her Vida was running to the dog. Though it seemed friendly Mary knew that could change in a snap but this dog stayed friendly. It ran in circles around Vida before standing on its hind legs licking anywhere he can reach. Vida giggled even as the dog knocked her to the ground. Mary approached the dog with caution, the dog looked at her and sniffed her legs when she was close enough. He craned his neck hoping for some head pats. “Can we keep him Mamma!?”

“We don’t know where he came from.” Taking advantage of the dog butting his head against her hand Mary felt the dog's neck hoping to feel for a collar. She didn’t find one, which didn’t really mean anything but it just meant that it would be harder to get the dog to follow them. Mary took the belt from her jeans and the ribbon from Vida’s dress to fashion a leash and make shift collar. The dog allowed Mary to wrap the belt around its middle, the belt was too thick to hold in place around the dogs short neck. After securing the ribbon to the collar Mary took two tentative steps to see if the dog would follow. He just stood there, wagging his tail like nothing was wrong. “Come here boy.” Mary tried to coax the dog but he didn’t budge. After a few minutes Vida took the slices of watermelon she was saving to lure the dog. It worked, the dogs nose twitched as it tried to keep up with the scent of the watermelon that was in Vida’s hands. Sometimes when the dog was close Vida would let the dog take a bite before moving more away. When she was down to her last slice they made it back to the main opening of the park. What was going on in the large side field gave Mary a good feeling on where the dog came from.

In a field that was sometimes used for soccer was currently holding what looked like a little fair. It was an adoption fair for a local animal shelter. There were dogs of various kinds and sizes in pens and a board with pictures of other animals, like cats and rabbits, that couldn’t be at the event but were also available for adoption. Naturally people flocked the fair, surrounding the pens to awe over the dogs. In the sea of people Mary located a volunteer for the shelter due to the light blue shirts they wore with the shelter name on one side and volunteer on the other. Mary approached a girl who looked to be in her late teens or early twenties with long black hair that she tied back in a ponytail.

“Excuse me.”

“Yes?” The girl turned around and before Mary could ask her next question the girls green eyes lit up at the sight of the dog that was still trying to get the last few bites of watermelon from Vida. “Vinegar Tom! You found him! Thank you so much. He got loose when we were setting up. Bad boy.” Taking a slip leash the volunteer slipped it over the dog’s neck so that Mary could detach the belt.

“Vinegar Tom? That’s an interesting name.”

“Yeah. Sometimes we rename the animals when they come in. I’m a history major and I reviewed the play for a paper I was doing at the time. Vinegar Tom came in on my first day almost a year ago and I don’t know something just felt right about the name.” There was an empty pen not that far away so the volunteer placed Vinegar Tom inside, scratching his head in comfort. “Thank you again for bringing him back. We have a new volunteer who’s never done an adoption fair before and he kind of lost control over a few of the dogs and he slipped away. Actually, now that I think about it Vinegar Tom has never done that before.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Tom’s really sweet but he’s usually not so energetic like this. I always think that he would fit in so well with a single person or a small family but whenever he’s considered for adoption he just… stands there or lays there not doing anything. It’s why he keeps getting turned down every time. It’s kind of depressing.” Vinegar Tom was pressed against the wire of the pen licking Vida’s fingers.

“We best be going. Vida.” Vida turned to her, she looked reluctant to move away from her new friend.

“Bye Vinegar Tom.” That’s when Vinegar Tom started to whine. He sat down on his hind legs and looked at both Mary and Vida with his big brown eyes. Vida in turn looked at Mary, jutting her lip out in a quivering pout. Between the pathetic whines of the dog and the look that Vida fixed her Mary could feel her resolve slowly dissolving away.

“What do we do to adopt?” The soft look that the volunteer gave Mary was matched with the squeal that came from Vida and the happy barks of Vinegar Tom. As Mary filled out the form Vida and Vinegar Tom played, mostly Tom rolling on his stomach while Vida gave him belly rubs. Though Mary loved to make Vida happy and Vinegar Tom was cute a cold feeling tickled in the back of her mind.

Zelda was going to kill her.

_____________________

Zelda arrived home a little after five. She had a staff meeting where all seasonal staff members were given some general info about the short semester. This wasn’t anything new to Zelda but it was necessary. In the end she couldn’t really complain because she got out the same time Hilda got off work that day so she swung by to pick her sister and niece, Sabrina saw some movie with her friends, before heading home. Everything seemed normal, Zelda had just enough time to place her keys on the table before Vida ran into her.

“Mommy! Mommy! Guess what!?” Zelda smiled at her daughter’s enthusiasm. Vida took so much joy out of anything that it truly was a guess on what made her so happy this time.

“What Vida?”

“We got a puppy!”

“You what?” Zelda might not have wanted it to come out so harshly, but out of everything that she expected that wasn’t one of them. As if on cue a dog came bounding into the entrance hall. He lost his footing on the hardwood floors, slipping and half flopping onto the floor, but it didn’t stop him. He came to a full stop in front of Zelda, sitting almost at her feet and wagging his tail so hard his whole body was wiggling. Though Zelda looked at the dog dumbfounded Hilda and Sabrina awed and surrounded the creature to shower him with affection. “Vida where’s you Mamma.” Vida pointed in the general direction of the kitchen before returning her attention back to the dog. Zelda stormed off not giving the scene before her a second glance, Mary had some serious explaining to do. “You got a dog!?” Mary’s shoulders hunched over and she turned around to face Zelda, whipping her lips from of excess tea. Apparently Zelda surprised her mid sip. Mary placed her cup in the sink before placing them on the counter.

“Don’t be mad.”

“I have every right to be mad. You got a dog without consulting me first.”

“You weren’t there. Vida fixed me with this look.” Mary mimicked the look before continuing. “How was I supposed to say no to that?”

“You’re going to have to because the last thing that I want is for this house to become a glorified petting zoo.”

“It’s not. I doubt something like this is going to happen again. It might sound cliche but I think Vinegar Tom chose us.”

“The dogs name is Vinegar Tom?”

“One of the volunteers is a history major. Anyway, the one day that the dog went against his usual behavior is the day that Vida and I were in the park. The volunteer even said that he showed no interest in anyone except Vida. So here we are.” Zelda sighed through her nose. She really didn’t want the dog but Vida was attached she couldn’t say no now.

“He’s your responsibility.” With that Zelda turned on her heel out of the kitchen. Hilda, Sabrina, and Vida were still in the entryway with the dog. They were throwing some kind of soft toy for the dog to fetch. Zelda just rolled her eyes and went up the stairs to her room. She refused to have any part of this.

___________________________

It has been about a week since Vinegar Tom joined his new family and he could safely say that he’s never been happier. He yawned and stretched before stepping out of his basket. His madam got him his basket along with his toys when he first came and he genuinely loved them. He always made sure that he kept his ball next to his basket and his lamb close to him. He went to his water bowl for a small drink and then rang the small bell that was attached to the door. He didn’t need to go out, he just liked ringing the bell. Satisfied, he left the kitchen to the stairs. There was a lot of them and he climbed them as best as he could. He wasn’t used to stairs but anything to be close to his people. Still learning his way around he used the scent of his people to find their location. When he reached the door he gently pushed it open with his nose. In one bed there was his madam and mistress, he tried to climb up but it was too high. In another bed was his little miss, he went over to her and started to nudge her with his nose. His little miss moved and murmured before she sat up, rubbing one eye.

“Tom!” Taking that as an invitation he climbed into his little miss’ bed. Well, tried, he wasn’t very good at climbing. Little miss got out and helped him, she struggled a little under his weight but it was enough to get him on. Once he was in little miss joined him, laying down. Vinegar Tom did the same, laying his head near the pillow and a stuffed octopus. He gave a contented sigh and fell asleep.

_______________________

Though most of the family was smitten with Vinegar Tom there was one family member he hadn’t won over.

Zelda.

Zelda wanted nothing to do with the dog. She didn’t feed him and refused to walk him or acknowledge his presence. The only thing that she has ever done for the dog was let him out when he was ringing the bell and it was only that one time. All other duties and needs were regulated to Mary. She was the one who agreed to getting the dog she was going to do the brunt of the work. Though she must say she was impressed with the amount of responsibility that Vida showed. She helped Mary feed, walk, and bathe the dog and even learned some commands to help train him. Despite her disinterest Zelda recognized that Vinegar Tom was a good dog. He was fully house trained so they never woke up to any accidents in the house, Hilda even trained him to ring the bell that she tied on the door in the kitchen to be let out. Didn’t chew anything but his own toys, he liked rolling around his ball and squeaking his lamb toy. He listened to what they told him not that he misbehaved often. His only crime in Zelda’s eyes was that he kept trying to climb onto the sofa when she was on it. She didn’t know why he looked at her for attention but she was consistent and kept kicking him off. Keeping herself at arms length worked until one fateful day.

Everyone in her family was busy. Hilda had to work, Sabrina had plans with her friends, and Mary and Vida had a scheduled activity that they would enjoy but Zelda necessarily wouldn’t. Hence why they scheduled it when Zelda had to work. This was of course before they got the dog.

Vinegar Tom had been with them only a couple of days. It was why they, mainly Mary and Hilda, didn’t feel comfortable in leaving him on his own for so long. And with his veterinary check up not for another week they couldn’t enroll him in doggy daycare. There was only one viable option that was available and it was that he went with Zelda.

“Absolutely not!” Zelda abruptly got up from her chair and looked between Mary and Hilda. Apparently, Mary felt like she couldn’t ask Zelda on her own and called for reinforcements. Zelda couldn’t really blame her, she and Mary weren’t fighting but Zelda was adamant in proving her point. Mary wanted the dog she was going to take care of it.

“Zelda it’s just for one day.” Her sister pleaded in that soft tone of her, the one that she uses to try to calm her down with. It worked about 70% of the time. Zelda ranged in her anger a little but she wasn’t backing down.

“No.”

“Come on Zelda what’s the harm?”

“For one it’s against the rules. Animals aren’t allowed unless they are a service animal and I’m not about to commit a criminal offense just because there is no one to watch the dog that I didn’t even want. And before you even ask no I am not going to cancel my class.”

“Zelda it’s just one time. Do this for me and not only would I not ask this of you again but next date night is on me. Please? I would do it myself but the plans that I made with Vida can’t be changed.” Zelda turned her glare onto her girlfriend. Mary was being extremely unfair at that moment. Her expression was soft and her tone was pleading. It was a rare combination and it made Zelda cave in every time. And Vida was thrown in, it was dirty move and sadly, it worked.

“Fine.” Mary smirked and got up to give her a kiss on the check. It was supposed to be on the lips but Zelda turned her head to the side. Mary has not earned that privilege back yet.

And thus here she was now, driving to work with Vinegar Tom in the back seat. Though Zelda couldn’t stop thinking about everything that could go wrong, she could get fired, claw marks in her seats, dog hair EVERYWHERE, the mutt was having the time of his life. After dropping of Hilda at work he got up on his hind legs to look out the window. His breath fogged up the windows, his muzzle was that close to the glass, and his tail was wagging up a storm. There was even drool on the glass when Zelda went to let him out. Sneaking the dog into the building wasn’t that hard, the office that she used was on the first floor and the other teacher that she shared it with taught not only on days that she didn’t work but evenings as well. She had the whole space to herself but to make sure that Vinegar Tom didn’t get into anything he shouldn’t she brought a portable crate to create a temporary pen. Vinegar Tom circled his enclosure but he seemed content with the small water bowl and pillow that Zelda gave him. He was happiest with his lamb, he wiggled in eagerness when Zelda pulled it from the bag that Mary set up for her. He squeaked it a little before settling down near the pillow. The last thing that Zelda set up in Vinegar Tom’s pen was a pee pad, Mary walked him before she left but it was better safe than sorry. By the time that Zelda finished setting everything up it was time for her to head to her lecture. Before leaving she took one last look at the dog. He looked up at her with his big brown eyes and his goofy expression that had everyone in her family in love with but gave Zelda a slight jagged feeling in her stomach.

“Don’t get me fired.” With that Zelda left and acted like nothing was wrong.

________________________

When his mistress returned to her office Vinegar Tom was sleeping peacefully. He woke up when she closed the door behind her. He yawned and stretched before watching his mistress. She set down something before coming over to him. His tail started to wag, he was hoping for some treats or a belly rub for being such a good dog. He was slightly disappointed when all she did was take away the barrier that kept him in one corner of the room. It wasn’t quite what he wanted but he was free! It was something. He explored the best way he knew, by smell. He let his nose guide him but after a while of not finding anything he turned back to his mistress. She was sitting behind something big and wooden. She was looking at something but he couldn’t tell what. Her head was bowed, was she sad? Tom couldn’t let that happen. His lamb made him happy so maybe it would make his mistress happy.

Picking up his lamb he brought it over to his mistress. She didn’t appear to notice him so he got up on his hind legs, using the side of the desk for support. When she still hadn’t noticed him he squeaked his lamb. That got her attention.

“What?” He squeaked his lamb again and wagged his tail. He wanted her to know that it was okay to take it. She just looked at him funny. “What?” This time she turned slightly in her chair giving him a space to place the lamb. He dropped it in her lap. However, instead of being happy she looked even more funny and threw his lamb to some corner. Oh! She was playing with him! She must love fetch too! As fast as his legs could go he went to get his lamb and then brought it back, squeaking it twice so she knew that he got it. She threw it two more times, when he came back the third time she ignored him completely. Oh, she was done playing. That’s okay, he was a bit tired so he’ll take a little rest. He dropped his lamb on the floor and then rested his head next to it. He gave a soft sigh in contentment.

______________________

By the time that Zelda was done she still had half an hour before Hilda got off work, great. Gathering everything that belonged to the dog she clipped his leash onto his harness and out they went. The dog still showed the same enthusiasm as before though Zelda wished he didn’t, she just cleaned her windows of his drool and there he was fogging and slobbering them up again. With twenty minutes still on her hands Zelda had to figure out what to do about the dog. It was pointless to drive all the way home when she would have to drive right back into town to pick up her sister, it wasted both time and gas, both of which she loathed. She decided to take the dog to the park. She didn’t know how tired Mary was going to be and she had the time so why not suck it up and walk the dog once.

The dog seemed happy about it. His tail wouldn’t stop wagging and he sniffed every tree that he got close to. He wasn’t that much different than Vida in that regard. Now that she thought about it he and Vida were a lot alike. They knew how to listen, could entertain themselves, didn’t get into much trouble, and were very loving and sweet with people they liked and a bit closed off with people they necessarily didn’t like. Maybe that’s why Vida fell head over heels with the dog because Zelda would have known if Vida wanted a pet. Yes, she wasn’t exactly forthcoming with Telling Zelda what she wanted but there were signs that as her mother she was able to pick up. There was nothing. Getting the dog was a completely last minute, spontaneous thing. Maybe that’s why Zelda was fighting so hard. She didn’t like spontaneous change. Yet that explained her relationship with Mary perfectly. She didn’t plan on falling in love with Mary, or moving their relationship so fast that they were living together in such a short time. There was no rational reason other than it just felt right. It’s what Mary felt when she agreed to get the dog, so maybe Zelda could work on changing her attitude towards the dog.

She knew just where to start. Since Vinegar Tom behaved himself so well at her work she decided to get him a special treat. There was a small dog boutique not far from where Hilda worked so Zelda took him inside to let him pick out a treat. She held her breath because there was a possibility that the dog could stick his head in a container and either destroy it or eat everything and take every last dime that she had. But as he sniffed through the selection of treats he didn’t seem interested in any of them until he found one he liked. He pawed at it and then turned to her with that same goofy expression and wagging tail. Zelda paid for it and tucked the trat in her purse, he could have it later after his dinner.

Home was very peaceful. Well, more normal than peaceful, and for that Zelda was grateful. As chaotic and as crowded as their household could be it was theirs and Zelda loved it. Vida wouldn’t stop talking about what she did that afternoon with Mary and they all sat around the table for dinner. That night it was Mary’s turns to wash the dishes, they tried to rotate who did what kind of cleaning. Zelda stuck around, she was finishing the last little bit of wine and it was the first time she could talk to Mary alone. Vinegar Tom was circling her, he barked softly and wiggled as he looked up at her. Zelda instantly knew what he wanted.

“Okay fine.” Zelda tossed him his treat. It was some kind of bone thing that smelled vaguely like barbeque. It was what he wanted and was safe for him so Zelda didn’t give it much thought. Vinegar Tom happily took his treat over to his basket and started to chomp away. Finishing up the last of her wine Zelda placed her glass with the rest of the dishes that haven’t been washed yet which was when she noticed Mary looking at her with a smirk and a gleam in her eye. “Not a word.”

“Well your attitude has certainly changed.” Zelda just huffed and walked out. Mary shook her head and went back to the dishes. Zelda would never say out loud if someone was right, she would stay silent and if she could walk out of the room. Mary smirked and looked at Vinegar Tom, he was halfway through his treat. “She’s warming up to you big guy.” He woofed lightly and went back to his treat.

Later that night Vinegar Tom padded into the living room where Hilda sat in an armchair knitting, and Mary and Zelda sitting on the couch reading. He went over to the couch and climbed up on it. Every other time he did that Zelda instantly kicked him off but instead she, without looking away from her book, took one hand and gave him a few head pats. Mary saw this out of the corner of her eye and smirked. It looked like Vinegar Tom was staying for good.

#Zelda Spellman #Madam Satan #madam spellman

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jaemtens · 6 years

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Rescue (Chapter 10)

seventeen | junhao | side meanie / vernkwan | chapter 10 of 10 | 40.3k

tumblr links: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 ao3 links: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

written with @rendawnie | updates every saturday morning

summary: When Soonyoung finally “agrees” to let Junhui get a dog for their apartment, he realizes that he needed something a little bit more than a puppy. Enter Minghao, the bona fide Bad Boy™ with tattoos and piercings. Oh, and he doodles puppies and kittens in their Probability and Confirmation class.

chapter 10: minghao

Bright.

Really bright.

Too damn bright.

Minghao rolled over, facing Junhui’s side of the bed -- away from the harsh light streaming in from the window. His eyes were barely open, and he could hardly see anything. He wrapped his arms around what he thought was his boyfriend, but he instantly knew something was off. Junhui was soft… in like the intangible sense of the world, not physically soft. Not plush, like whatever he was hugging right now.

“Junhui,” he whined, squeezing his body pillow or whatever he was wrapped around.

“Junhuiii,” he repeated, flailing a little as he released the pillow.

Minghao finally willed himself awake, opening his eyes more than before and lifting up the bedsheets to find what was definitely not his boyfriend.

Nope, that was definitely a mish-mash of pillows and Junhui’s shiba inu plush, not the boy he wanted to be cuddling with right now. Where did he go, Minghao thought to himself. He finally rolled off of their bed, tossing on a shirt that wasn’t even close to matching his pajama bottoms. That’s what you get for picking your pajamas based off of what’s on the floor closest to the bed. He kept walking toward the door to the rest of the apartment, eyes still adjusting the bright morning sun streaming through the windows of their apartment.

Well, their apartment… plus Soonyoung’s.

Not that Soonyoung spent much time in their apartment now. Alone, at least. Shortly before Minghao moved in, Soonyoung had started spending about half his time at Jihoon’s larger apartment. When Soonyoung was here, Jihoon inevitably was too. It was almost gross watching the two of them steadily become more domestic. Not that Minghao also didn’t notice Soonyoung’s condom stash steadily getting depleted at a rate of three per week.

He figured if he had to take a math class for college, he should at least put it to use, right?

The whole Junhui-and-Soonyoung-getting-boyfriends-at-about-the-same-time thing helped make it easier for Junhui to convince Soonyoung to let Minghao move in. Apparently Junhui had also agreed to be on dishes duty for “til the end the time,” as well.

Oh, Minghao had almost forgotten their fifth family member. Shortly after walking out into the shared living space, she came running up, jumping up into Minghao’s lap as he crouched down to grab her. Lilli having two dads was quite a boon for the young Dachshund -- twice the number of treats, Minghao mused while looking over the Dachshund’s steadily rounding torso. We need to take you to the park more, he thought. And maybe go on more dates at the park.

“Morning, Hao-hao~” a sweet-sounding voice sing-songed from the kitchen. Minghao looked up, seeing his boyfriend in his own soft (and actually matching) pajamas standing in front of the stove with a wooden spoon in hand.

“Morning, Jun-jun,” Minghao replied, putting Lilli back down on the floor. “You know, you might have some competition for who loves me more.”

Minghao wandered into the kitchen, catching the tail-end of Junhui’s incredulous-looking side-eye. “That’s not fair, she only has one setting,” Junhui complained while Minghao wrapped his arms around him.

Minghao furrowed his brow. “That’s not true,” he softly countered. “She barked at Jihoon the other day.”

“That’s probably because she feels threatened that she may not be the smallest thing in the apartment anymore,” Junhui deadpanned with a smirk. They laughed together, Junhui trying not to knock the pan over while he stirred their scrambled eggs. Just then, Lilli sauntered up to them, knowing that Minghao might be weak enough to give her food.

It was tough not being able to resist two sets of puppy eyes every day.

“Did you already feed her?” Minghao lilted, placing a soft kiss on the side of Junhui’s neck.

“Half a piece of bacon.”

Minghao looked down at the pair of puppy eyes staring back at him. “Not today, Lilli,” he cooed. Lilli barked, switching sides. She was probably hoping that Junhui would be clumsy enough to stir something out of the pan he was working on; not a bad bet, if you asked Minghao.

“So why the special breakfast today, babe?” Minghao asked, returning to littering kisses up and down Junhui’s neck.

“Well, all four of us are here…” Junhui started.

“Oh, Jihoon and Soonyoung came back here?”

“Their shoes are by the door, so I think so.” Junhui motioned toward the door with his head, nearly whacking Minghao’s head in the process. “Whoops, sorry Hao. Also, it’s been a month.”

“A month?”

“A month since you moved in with me,” Junhui quietly repeated, leaving the spoon in the pan to gently remove Minghao’s hands from his waist with his own hands. He circled around to face Minghao head-on, pecking him on the lips. Afterwards, Junhui turned the burner off, grabbed the pan’s handle, and dumped the eggs onto a waiting plate near the stove.

Minghao followed Junhui like a lost puppy (even Lilli knew enough to vacate the kitchen), bumping into his boyfriend a few times while he grabbed silverware and chopsticks and plates for the table. “A whole month?” Minghao finally said, “Feels like three days.”

Junhui scoffed. “We’ve gone through half of Soonyoung’s condoms, Hao.”

“Right. Three days,” Minghao repeated, earning a light punch on the arm from Junhui.

“Go wake them up, will you?”

Minghao nodded, feeling a little bit more purpose in his routine now that Junhui had given him a direction.

That’s how he felt in general, too.

Minghao rounded the kitchen counter and walked up to Soonyoung’s door. Looking back to Junhui, he pulled his fist back, ready to bang on the door. Junhui giggled, and Minghao let loose, pounding on Soonyoung’s door five times. “Wake up, you lazy pipsqueaks!”

Junhui started cackling from the kitchen. “I think Jihoon’s gonna have to fight you for his honor now,” he wryly commented.

“Unless he gets a stepstool, I think I’ll be fine.”

Minghao was already halfway back to the kitchen when Soonyoung’s door swung open. “You woke Jihoon up, asshole,” he dryly commented.

“Food,” Minghao dryly replied.

Soonyoung turned back around and whispered something into his room before closing the door and heading over to the kitchen table with the rest of them. Minghao wandered toward Junhui and planted another string of kisses along Junhui’s cheeks until he reached his lips, connecting his lips with Junhui’s for a spell longer.

“Gross,” Soonyoung complained, taking a seat at the kitchen table and pulling some pancakes and strips of bacon onto a plate that he promptly placed at Jihoon’s seat.

“Oh c’mon,” Minghao challenged. “Like we haven’t seen you sucking Jihoon’s face for three years.”

“Yeah, but when you two do it, it’s gross,” Soonyoung snarked.

Minghao looked back at Junhui with an offended face, earning an amused look from his boyfriend. So much for backing him up. “I think you’re really gonna have to fight Jihoon for your honor now.”

“Great,” Minghao defensively replied, picking up a lamp from near the door. “I’ll use this.”

“Hey now!”

“That’s the only thing you can use,” Soonyoung sassed, stuffing his face with more eggs. “The rest of the furniture is mine.”

Minghao’s expression dropped a little, turning back to face his boyfriend. “You only bought a lamp?”

“Um, listen, Soonyoung’s parents, uh, gave him a lot of furniture.”

Minghao shook his head, ignoring Jihoon finally joining them in the kitchen. “We’re gonna have to redecorate, babe. Class this place up.”

“Finally,” Jihoon added, taking his seat at the table. “So when are you two leaving then?”

Soonyoung guffawed, his face still stuffed full of food. It was a resting state, to be honest. Junhui was less offended than Minghao, but that was mostly because Junhui enjoyed any attention, even if it was blatantly insulting. Minghao didn’t dare challenge Jihoon, though -- if there was one thing he had learned about the older boy, it was that he could skewer him with words four times over before Minghao even understood the first insult. Junhui consoled him by intertwining his fingers in Minghao’s hand and leading the younger boy to the kitchen table, their hands still connected when they took their seats.

“So how was last night?” Junhui started, spooning food onto Minghao’s plate.

“Great!” Soonyoung chimed, surprising everyone by not having his mouth filled with food again. Jihoon took another dainty bite out of his pancake, the contrast not totally lost on Minghao.

Minghao smirked, ready to throw some shade back. “I think he meant the play.”

“Yeah, Soonyoung’s screaming was a little loud when we got back…” Jihoon muttered. “Not as loud as your whining for Junhui every hour of the day, though.”

“Awww, babe,” Junhui cooed, pinching his cheeks while Minghao felt his face flush bright red. He knew better and he still went for it… Jihoon could always destroy his puny insults.

“The play,” Soonyoung started, accentuating the fact that he was indeed talking about the play this time, “was great, I was on the edge of my seat the entire time.”

“Jihoon was too, so his feet could reach the ground,” Minghao added.

“I’ll have you know that he was on my lap for most of it.”

Minghao nearly choked on his food. “He -- he chose to do that!?”

“Well,” Soonyoung mused. “There was a rather tall person in front of him. And my lap is rather comfy.”

Junhui and Minghao turned to look at Jihoon, who looked like he had accepted that Soonyoung was gonna rat him out at one point or another. Or maybe he was secretly seething. You could never tell with Jihoon. Well… except that this was Soonyoung, and Minghao was pretty sure Jihoon couldnever get angry at Soonyoung. Ever.

“If I weren’t dating you, I think you’d be dead in a ditch by tomorrow,” Jihoon calmly replied. Minghao started cackling before Jihoon cut him off -- “Next to Minghao, of course.”

“Oh, beware though Jihoon,” Junhui playfully added. “Minghao might have a lamp.”

Jihoon gave them both a look of total and utter disgust, like their inside joke was ridiculously awful and they should feel awful for having it. Soonyoung giggled a little though, and Jihoon softened up a bit when he noticed that. Minghao looked over at Junhui, and, honestly? He felt the same as Jihoon sometimes. A lot of his moods had gone away since he started dating Junhui; he still was snarky and a little defensive, but Junhui softened him up. As much as he hated to admit it, Minghao wasn’t really all that scary to begin with… but with Junhui, he was extra not-scary. Just like Jihoon around Soonyoung.

“Do we have to go in together again?” Minghao whined, standing just outside the shelter with Junhui and Lilli. Last time he went in with Junhui, Dokyeom and Dino wouldn’t leave him alone about it for a week. Actually, they still wouldn’t leave him alone about it -- it had only been a week since last time!

“Yes, we do,” Junhui insisted, putting a hand on his hip while Lilli sniffed some bushes near the entrance to the shelter. Maybe it smelled like Junhui? “Dino loves Lilli, and Lilli loves Dino. And I’ll be damned if I deprive her of all the love she deserves on a daily basis.”

Minghao shook his head. “There’s not enough love in the world,” he muttered.

“What was that?” Junhui questioned. “Did I just hear my boyfriend saying that he doesn’t have enough love?”

“Um, no,” Minghao lied. “It’s just that all of the world that exists in the entire universe goes to you, babe, so I’m a little short on it for Lilli.”

“Gross,” a third voice chimed in. Dino swaggered on into their conversation and scooped Lilli up, disconnecting her leash while she attacked his face with her tongue. “I’ll just take Lilli til her dads are done arguing.”

“Oh, and Junhui?” Dino lilted, halfway in the door. “If you wanna hide from your feelings for Minghao again, the bush is right there!” he finished with a wink.

Minghao looked over at quizzically. The bush? he tried to ask with his confused expression, earning a sheepish look from his sweater-clad boyfriend. “I know you love me Hao,” Junhui explained. “We probably shouldn’t argue in front of Lilli. It’s bad for her.”

“Junhui, I love you, but I don’t think Lilli can hear us,” Minghao retorted, rubbing his temples slightly.

“She knows,” Junhui politely replied, pulling one of Minghao’s hands down from his head to lace their fingers together. “She knows.”

“Ooookay,” Minghao acquiesced, walking into the shelter with Junhui.

Dino may have made fun of him about Junhui, but he knew that Dino secretly loved that they were dating. Well, it wasn’t even a secret -- Dino just couldn’t resist giving Minghao a little bit of shit about how much he softened up for Junhui. And Dino had learned much more about when to lay off; he nearly tore Dino’s head off after Dino exclusively pestered Minghao about Junhui during their first shift together after they were, you know,official. Now it was just a jab here and there, like the little brother Dino always was.

Minghao was working his shift at the shelter today. Unlike last term -- when Minghao worked the afternoon -- he worked mornings before his afternoon class. He hadn’t missed one of his volunteer shifts since the whole debacle last month… not that Dokyeom minded too much about him missing a few shifts. He was a volunteer, after all.

At least for now.

Dokyeom had mentioned something about finding enough money in the budget to throw him on payroll? He was cautiously optimistic, a much healthier attitude than before with the whole Junhui thing. Ya know, when he was actively pessimistic.

“Oh, have you guys made up?” Dino teased, holding Lilli’s floppy ears down. He was sitting on the floor near one of the couches with Lilli in his lap and toys already strewn about around his person. “I guess I don’t need to cover Lilli’s ears anymore.”

“Oh my god,” Minghao protested, vehemently rolling his eyes. As if that every persuaded Dino to stop being a little shit.

“Hey Minghao and Junhui,” Dokyeom called out from the front desk. “What brings both of you here?”

“Um, I volunteer Monday mornings,” Minghao blankly replied. “You scheduled that, like, weeks ago.”

“I mostly meant Junhui.”

“Oh.”

“Well --” Junhui started.

“-- Junhui was here to take Lilli on a…” Dino interrupted. He paused for a moment to cover Lilli’s ears again with his hands. “W-A-L-K.”

“Right,” Junhui agreed with a nod. “Can’t say the ‘W’ word around her, she’ll get too excited.”

“We have the same thing with Minghao,” Dino cheekily continued. “We can’t say the ‘J’ word around him.”

“You little sh--”

“-- Junhui,” he whispered toward none other than Junhui himself, earning a bout of adorable giggling from his boyfriend. Dino was just fortunate that Junhui would be ridiculously upset if anything were to ever happen to the little shit… that was the only thing between Dino and complete and utter annihilation.

“Yeah, he just perks up and looks around for you like a lost puppy,” Dino added, miming what was probably supposed to be a lovestruck Minghao but ended up looking more like a meerkat.

Minghao shook his head. “Don’t mind Dino, he’s actually 12 years old.”

“Wow, babe, you’re getting dissed over and over by a 12 year-old?” Junhui quickly snarked, walking over toward Lilli to hook her leash back on. “Maybe I’ll have to find a new boyfriend…”

Before Minghao could stammer out a response, Junhui floated over to him and pecked him on the lips.

“Gross! ” Dino bemoaned from behind them.

“It’s okay, kid, you’ll get it when you’re older,” Junhui quickly replied, before waving goodbye and blowing a kiss at Minghao. Lilli promptly hopped out of the store with Junhui, leaving Minghao alone with his disrespectful best friend and dopey boss.

Though… he did start to feel a little insecure about being with Junhui.

“Dino… do you -- do you really think Junhui and I argue too much? That we’re not right for each other?”

Minghao watched as Dino looked like he was immediately about to respond with something snarky, but he caught himself, realizing that Minghao was being serious about this. Dino retooled himself, pausing to come up with a good answer.

“Obviously you know your relationship better than me, Hao-hao,” Dino started. “But, like, I know what I’ve seen of you in the past month. And you’re doing a lot better. A lot better. You seem happier. Less on-edge. Junhui makes you a better person, even if there are little bumps along the way, you know?”

“But sometimes I worry that I’m not good enough for him,” Minghao blurted out, earning a befuddled look from Dino.

“You’ve been worrying about that since Day 1, but he keeps coming back to you. If he wanted to get out and move on, he had plenty of chances. Clearly he thinks you’re plenty good enough for him.”

“He asked you to move in with him,” Dokyeom added from behind the counter. Minghao had forgotten about him because, well, Dokyeom was hardly paying attention, absentmindedly filling out forms.

“Right?” Dino agreed. “Hao-hao, he really loves you, and you love him. You rescued each other from crappy spots, you know?”

“I -- I guess.”

“You think too much about it, Hao-hao.”

Just then, a very frazzled-looking Seungkwan burst through the door with a worried-looking Hansol not far behind. True to form, Hansol was holding a pet carrier -- again.

“I swear to god, Minghao, if I run into your boyfriend one more time, I’m gonna lose it,” Seungkwan complained, marching up to the front desk. “And we all know how close I am to losing it.”

“How close are you to losing it?” Dino quickly asked, snickering a little.

“Well, if you guys thought my last semester was hard, this semester is even harder. I’m overloading with five science classes -- and we all know that science classes are the hardest, of course -- and two of them have labs. One of them doesn’t even grade on a curve. Can you imagine that? What the hell was that professor thinking, not grading on a curve? We’re all gonna fail. But I have to fail the least so that when they inevitably haveto curve it, I have the best grade.”

“Uh huh,” Dino snorted, glancing over at Minghao with an amused look.

Minghao was more focused on what Seungkwan said first.

“What the hell did Junhui do to you?”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, like he didn’t have time for this. Or anything really. Anything unless it was named Buttercup or Hansol, at least. “Well, every time I run into him, he just starts blabbering on and on about his boyfriend -- you -- talking about how in love he is and so on. Like I have time to hear about that?”

Dino glanced over in Minghao’s direction again. “Told you,” he whispered, winking at Minghao.

“And what’s wrong with Buttercup this time?” Dino asked, effortlessly directing his attention back to Seungkwan and all of his Problems.

“We think she lost her voice,” Hansol answered.

Minghao nearly lost his shit. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

By the time Dokyeom convinced Hansol and Seungkwan that, no, chinchillas cannot lose their voice, Dino and Minghao had nearly wrapped up their shift. Minghao was in a rush to run back to campus, leaving Dino alone to tidy up the front while he bolted out the door.

It was Monday, so he had an afternoon class and not a lot of time to get lunch. Junhui insisted on getting lunch together on Mondays -- not that Minghao objected -- but this time his boyfriend had invited two of his friends from Prob and Conf to join them.

Junhui casually mentioned that his friends were dating. He winked at the same time.

If that was Junhui challenging Minghao to be as flirty as possible during what turned out to be a double-date… well, Minghao didn’t need a written invitation.

Apparently one of the guys from Prob and Conf suggested a sushi place near campus. Something about an all-you-can-eat option? Not that Minghao needed that… but Junhui? Junhui could eat everything. In fact, in the past few weeks, Minghao had seen Junhui put at least seventeen different things that weren’t food or his toothbrush in his mouth. And sixteen of those didn’t make sense.

Minghao wandered into the restaurant, instantly spotting Junhui and two other boys sitting near a row of windows. Junhui waved him over. All three of them stood up, and… well, Minghao had never felt short before, but one of the other boys there easily had some height on him. And then there was Junhui and the other boy, who were slightly shorter than the tall boy. But Minghao? Minghao was shorter than all of them.

Oh god.

As he got closer, he instantly recognized the other two boys Junhui invited. They were the ones always doing coupley shit in Prob and Conf. This might actually be a challenge if Junhui wanted him to flirt.

The taller boy greeted him first, shaking his hand enthusiastically. “Minghao? I’m Mingyu.”

“Wonwoo,” the other boy waved with a small smile.

“Nice to meet you,” he replied with a smile. “Again, I guess.”

“I’m so glad Junhui finally decided to ask you out.”

“Wait, what?” Minghao asked while Junhui pecked him on the cheek, pulling out Minghao’s chair next to his own. “Junhui talked to you about me?”

“Talked. Vented. Cried. Junhui was absolutely smitten for you,” Wonwoo reported, scooting his seat closer to Mingyu’s once he sat down. Minghao collapsed into his chair, watching Junhui warily while his boyfriend took his own seat, blushing a little. He must’ve known that Wonwoo and Mingyu were gonna bust his chops about this. He must’ve known.

He wanted Minghao to know about this?

It was kinda cute.

He leaned over and planted a kiss on Junhui’s cheek while the two other boys looked through the menu.

“They’re still in the PDA stage of the relationship,” Wonwoo muttered, earning a giggle from Mingyu.

“Like we can’t one-up them, babe,” Mingyu snickered.

So that was the idea.

Minghao leaned over to Junhui, bringing his mouth really close to Junhui’s ear. “Did you plan this?”

Junhui giggled a little. Then he nodded ever-so-slightly, subtle enough not for Mingyu and Wonwoo to catch. Not that they didn’t already know that this was Junhui’s plan as far as he knew.

“Fine then,” Minghao whispered again.

Minghao adjusted his head, and he leaned in toward Junhui’s face again. He placed another kiss on Junhui’s cheek and started smiling shortly thereafter.

“Maybe we should order something,” Junhui lightly suggested.

Minghao quickly replied. “Are you on the menu?”

Wonwoo started choking on his water.

“They… they might have us beat,” Mingyu commented.

Wonwoo put his menu down and gave Mingyu a look. “Do you even know yourself? Do you even know who you are as a person?”

Minghao giggled a little. “Are you gonna do all-you-can-eat?” Minghao asked his boyfriend, scooting his chair a little bit closer so that their bodies were almost touching.

“No, I was actually thinking about splitting something with you, Hao-hao. With Salsa dancing after this, you know.”

Oh right. They decided to take a dance class together.

“That’s what we were gonna do,” Mingyu pouted. “I wanted to split something with you, babe.”

“No, we weren’t?” Wonwoo objected. “I wanted to eat today.”

Minghao started laughing again.

By the time he stopped, Junhui was staring back at him with a soft look. Junhui immediately swooped in and kissed him on the nose. “You are socute.”

After a few more minutes of not-so-subtle flirting, Minghao and Junhui eventually decided on ordering a combination platter of a few different sushi rolls. Wonwoo begrudgingly agreed to split something with Mingyu, but only after the taller boy pouted for about three years. Minghao also thought that maybe Wonwoo wanted to get it over with because the other boy groaned a little every time he and Junhui did something a little flirty.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t just a little flirty.

He loved Junhui so much, and he sucked at the whole words thing most of the time, so they liked to do little kisses here and there and cuddling and touchy-feeling things and -- now that he was describing it, Minghao could see why Wonwoo thought it was a little gross.

It was like the two of them had to get out all the love they had built up over the past few weeks of pining after each other.

By the time their sushi rolls came out, Minghao had already decided exactly what he was going to do next. He quickly grabbed his chopsticks, picked up one of the rolls, and held it up in front of Junhui’s mouth. Junhui giggled, and then opened his mouth.

“Oh my god,” Mingyu muttered. “See, babe! It’s a totally normal thing.”

“I am not letting you feed me,” Wonwoo rejected. “Not after last time.”

“I didn’t know that you couldn’t handle spicy!”

“And I didn’t know that you wouldn’t warn me! Am I supposed to magically read your mind?” Mingyu lightly punched Wonwoo in the arm, earning an amused look from the shorter boy.

Wonwoo chuckled. “You? With magical powers? I doubt the world would trust you with that kind of responsibility, babe.”

Junhui giggled before swallowing the whole sushi roll that Minghao had been holding for like thirty seconds. “You’re worse than Lilli,” Minghao lilted, thinking about Junhui literally ate anything and everything.

His boyfriend tried to make an offended face before falling apart and laughing his butt off. “I love you, Hao-hao. You rescued me from being an old cat lady. Just with dogs. And being a guy. And gay.”

Minghao smiled. “You rescued me from my own dumb self, Junhui.”

#seventeen #svt fic #junhao #junhao fic #jun #minghao #the8 #junhui #wen junhui #xu minghao #my writing #rescue

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joomma · 1 year

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breakingmllc · 3 years

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Nope Still Not Having Kid My Dachshund Is Allergic S T Shirt

Happy 84th birthday to my main idol my grandma mj my grandma is the strongest person I know I saw her be the provider of her family and run her own clothing store my whole life she s battled cancer and beat it twice and she always gives me the realest best advice she s probably the only person on this planet that I still remember their home number by heart lol my grandma has a Hot I don’t have kids my cat is allergic shirt sweater finsta so everyone leave nice comments wishing her a happy birthday. Gj guys but be careful vitality just gave insight about how to shutdown your top and mid lane although they didn’t execute it properly their strategy is just too good to counter your playstyle and other teams will take advantage from it. So this is going to be a bit long but bear with me I had what I believe to be a pointless and incredibly frustrating experience with the assistant manager jamie at your auburn hills great lakes crossing location today I have been coming here for three years I frequent your orlando san marcos and new jersey locations as well at least once a year when we stop we usually spend 5 to 10 thousand dollars on your products the system is simple I go in park in a corner and bring bins to my corner sort them bag them move them to the front register and repeat today I brought a personal duffel bag as it holds about 8 to 12 of your bags worth of stuff I get told that i’m not allowed to use it because it’s policy not a big deal at all I say okay i’ll do that for the rest rather than rebag all of this i’ll just go up in line and pay for it and it can sit behind the counter seems pretty reasonable to me nope I got obstructed suggested that I might be stealing something and not allowed to pass stating if I don’t want to follow the system I can leave he then takes my entire duffel dumps it onto the floor and then rebags it into victoria secret bags then moves it to the front counter so it can be rang in I thought this was a little odd but hey he was doing all the work rebagging it so whatever i’m like dude i’m going to be spending about 8k today all I want to do is come in spend some money get out without any drama what’s the problem whoevers in charge should be thrilled with a sale like this we’re spending 8k keep in mind that I told him that I would do what he wanted and it wasnt’ a big deal and the response was to the effect of stop being lippy and just listen I told him what do you want from me I just agreed with you and said I would use your bags i’m not being lippy at all I know this because I said okay dude not a problem i’ll use your bags his response was maybe if you get to buy it i’m like what are you suggesting that an 8 000 order is something you guys don’t want he’s like yeah if you buy it i’m like dude we are spending 8k today why would I bag up a bunch of stuff and spend 2 3 hours picking our your fabulous product to not buy it anyway so I had 4 credit cards one card had 2 000 one had 3500 one had 2000 and one had 1000 because I am buying for multiple people I had 4 different cards all in my name I wanted one receipt for each card not a big deal to me right wrong again he cited some policy and said if the order is more than 750 items that they aren’t allowed to ring in under 750 items on any one receipt id like to point out that that amount is higher than your employees said they could take as a cash payment I asked him to please show me that I would understand better if I could just read it he was willing to do so he brought out the policy book and to my surprise what it actually said was words to the afffect of cash payments cannot be split up or over 750 items I forget the second half my immediate reply was so what’s the big deal im using credit not cash he snatched the policy book away from me at that point and said you know what you can just listen to me or I don’t have to let you buy anything it’s up to my discretion I then called your orlando outlet and your new jersey outlet and talked to the store managers and cited your policy I was given I asked them to confirm if that was accurate and both said if it was a policy it was news to them I then asked if they would let me buy my order using 4 cards and 4 receipts the woman at orlando said oh my gosh yes we do that every single day I asked if I went to her store if I would have any trouble with this in the future and was told no then she said you can always come down here if you’re in the area and i’ll be happy to take your order after that phone call I tried again here’s the video of that attempt I said listen I have 4 credit cards your register girl said you told her she can’t ring up an order under 750 items that’s 3500 if it’s 5 items not all of my cards have that much I have done multiple receipts every time I came here heck I can even supply them to show it he tells me that because I am order so many items that I can’t have less tan 750 items per receipt so I point around to everyone else and ask what about everyone else you aren’t forcing them to spend a minimum of 750 items what about the final charge i’ll have 750 items for two tickets but the leftover isn’t going to be 750 items you’re not going to let me buy them he shrugged his shoulders to say no at this point I haven’t yelled ive been a bit snarky and sarcastic because I know he’s just giving me a hard time two people ring in our order almost every time I am up there and we were there 3 times in the last 6 months spent a bunch each time so at 730 8pm or so we are done shopping assuming that two people could ring us up ended up being a fantasy he forced one employee only to ring us up later on he comes up when its now close to 9pm and says hey you mind if we ring you up on both registers I chuckle and say no I don’t but you do you don’t want to be breaking that 750 rule do you he glared at me and then sent the employee away and walked off after blinking a few times I laugh because after telling me over and over he couldn’t do it he just got caught trying to do what should have been done to begin with a short while later after 9 I find out that everyone is standing uip front except for the one girl and another associate because none of the rest of them are allowed to help her ring us up the only two people left in the store with about 700 more items to be rang in if that’s not enough since it was a holidy all of these employees are apparently being paid overtime to stand around and wait at a bit after 10 all but two girls leave and one girl is waiting to count cash while the other girl sits and keeps ringing stuff in we apologize profusely we expected two employees to ring us up like always and timed our visit to be out around 9 if this had happened instead of having one literally stand there and watch her for 1 hour and 47 minutes after close we would have all been out on time and no overtime or extra hours spent so finally at 10 47 pm our orders are done we thank the lovely girl lauren and jasmine who got stuck staying 2 hours past close because a manager made up some random policy and had to double down when I pointed out he really needed to follow that 750 rule when he was going to toss another girl on the register if this is policy fine it doesn’t seem to be no manager at your other outlets knew what he was talking about the orlando one insisted that the only restrictions are on cash payments and verified I was paying cash or credit it’s a pretty humiliating experience to get hassled trying to buy panties and bras by someone who’s on some type of power trip the only thing I said sideways to him was that I flat out didn’t believe his policy and that credit absolutely is not the same as cash I didnt call him any names scream at him or did anything to disrupt the store beyond what you see in the videos if this is not policy i’d like an apology from that manager in person or over the phone admitting he was mistaken I would hope that the next time I go there I am not hassled but if not I guess there’s always orlando or new jersey who seem to be quite friendly I also want to give recognition to jasmine and lauren lauren is the poor soul who got stuck ringing everything in alone because of the manager’s silly rule and not allowing anyone to help because it would be in violation of the 750 item rule jasmine was the cash counter who had to wait until we were out of the store to count cash even more interesting is that I had a former employee with me helping me buy and she said she never heard of this policy either but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t added since she left she was just as confused because the manager spent over 30 minutes trying to explain and defend this when that time certainly would have been more efficiently spent doing productive things instead of hassling someone who literally sits in a corner and speaks to no one while sorting through your products one bin at a time id love a call back about this or to find out what exactly is going on ive never been hassled like this before and it was a little frustrating and very trying to keep my cool joe rossetti alexandria gunn

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mastcomm · 4 years

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A Scrappy Iowa Start-Up Is the ‘It’ Read for Political Insiders

DES MOINES — The best political journalism you’ve never heard of is coming from a scrappy start-up in the East Village.

The East Village of Des Moines, that is.

Iowa Starting Line, a no-frills news outlet that started out as a rookie reporter and his Twitter account, is the new must-read of the 2020 campaign. Elite reporters follow it. Candidates care about it. And at a painful time in the local news business, its six-person staff has started to rival The Des Moines Register for scoops and influence in the first-in-the-nation presidential caucus.

“If I want to know what’s happening on the ground in Iowa, I’m clicking on The Register or Iowa Starting Line, and not necessarily in that order,” said Tim Alberta, Politico’s chief political correspondent.

At a recent debate night in Des Moines, Starting Line’s founder and editor, Pat Rynard, an unassuming Missourian in a blazer and checked shirt, was surrounded by network news reporters seeking the latest political gossip. Dave Weigel, a national writer for The Washington Post, told Mr. Rynard he reads the site to stay current. “It’s so the locals don’t think, ‘This East Coast schmuck doesn’t know anything,’” Mr. Weigel quipped.

Mr. Rynard, 34, is a genial former Democratic operative who left his job in 2015 to try his hand at journalism. Now his team of five reporters — some barely out of college — is bigger than the political staffs at many of the state’s newspapers, which have been badly hurt by layoffs.

Starting Line, which is donor- and ad-supported, opened its first newsroom in June in Des Moines’s hip East Village district. (Before that, Mr. Rynard was a solo act, editing from home with his dachshund, Franklin, at his feet.) The stark décor is, almost accidentally, start-up chic: concrete floors, industrial lighting, a bare-bones podcast room where Jane Sanders, wife of Bernie, was a recent guest.

The rent — $1,250 a month — would barely cover a room share in Manhattan. And in a cost-saving strategy unique to Iowa, some of Starting Line’s furniture is salvaged from candidates who dropped out of the race: a dry-erase board donated by Representative Eric Swalwell (remember him?); a folding table from Senator Kirsten Gillibrand.

On a recent morning, Mr. Rynard spun a pen on his fingers as he gathered his staff. “Traffic has picked up quite nicely,” he said. “All the attention is on Iowa now.” Hundreds of reporters from Washington and New York had descended for the next day’s CNN debate, and Mr. Rynard wanted the site’s reporting to stand out. “What could we be saying that other people aren’t?” he said.

At Starting Line, hyperlocal coverage matters. Mr. Rynard approved a pitch from Libby Meyer — a reporter who joined after leaving her job at The Hawk Eye, a midsize paper in Burlington, Iowa — about precinct captains, who lead the charge for their candidates on caucus night.

When another reporter suggested an event with Senator Michael Bennet, Mr. Rynard shook his head. “Bennet?” he said. “No.” (With so many candidates in the mix, Mr. Rynard has to draw the line somewhere.)

In an interview afterward, Mr. Rynard said he first imagined Starting Line as a left-leaning alternative to Iowa’s conservative political blogs. But in a twist on the usual model for online news, he found that straightforward reporting was more satisfying than partisan clickbait.

“I never wanted this to just be a ‘Democrat rah-rah’ site, because then the only people who read it are Democrats and what are you really accomplishing?” he said over Earl Grey tea at Scenic Route, a cafe popular with political types down the street from his newsroom.

Starting Line’s audience remains small compared with that of The Register, a Gannett paper that covers general news and sports. But Mr. Rynard’s readers are uniquely influential.

“Pat was the first Iowa journalist to tell me that he thought Pete could really gain traction here,” said Lis Smith, a top adviser to Mayor Pete Buttigieg. “He’s been ahead of the curve in predicting who would rise and fall in Iowa.”

Starting Line is no charity: Mr. Rynard said the site was on track to bring in $13,000 in advertising revenue in January, about half of his monthly expenses, which is predominantly payroll. (He also charges for an online newsletter.) To cover costs, he raises money the old-fashioned way: hat in hand.

“‘Help Make Sure Local Journalism Stays Alive’ — that’s my biggest pitch,” he said. “The Iowa press corps has shrunk and shrunk. This trend is not reversing itself for journalism. So either you start to factor in independent news outlets into your charitable giving, or it goes away.”

Mr. Rynard declined to specify his donors, describing them as wealthy individuals and left-leaning advocacy groups. He does not accept donations from political parties, though he has a donation page on the grass-roots Democratic fund-raising site ActBlue. Mr. Rynard said that his donors’ money carries no sway. “No one group has given more than 10 percent” of the budget, he said, “so if I ever need to drop somebody, I can.”

Art Cullen, the publisher of The Storm Lake Times and a dean of the Iowa press corps, said he would prefer more transparency. “It’s something readers need to be aware of, who’s funding these outfits,” he said in an interview.

Mr. Cullen praised Starting Line for filling “the vacuum” left by Iowa publications that he called “shadows of their former selves.” But he worried that political blogs could not replace the public service of a general-interest newspaper. “We’re not paying attention to soil erosion or snow removal,” he said. “That’s basic blocking and tackling, and we’re ignoring it because we’re chasing Andrew Yang around the state.”

Starting Line does cover Mr. Yang, along with state government. It made national headlines after reporting on racist remarks by Representative Steve King and, in 2018, revealing a romantic relationship between a lobbyist and Iowa’s Senate majority leader, who promptly resigned.

Seizing on Iowa’s moment in the national spotlight, Mr. Rynard has looked for ways to punch above his weight. The site’s endorsement tracker is a handy resource for national reporters swooping into the state. He also urges his team to post raw video footage from candidates’ Iowa appearances, a C-SPAN-style service for correspondents who can’t attend in person.

Last weekend, Mr. Rynard was at an event for Senator Elizabeth Warren when she received The Register’s endorsement. Leaving behind the journalists from national outlets, he trained his iPhone on the senator, hoping to catch the moment she learned the news.

His video of Ms. Warren reacting in celebration was shared by thousands on social media, one of the viral hits of the caucus campaign.

There have been growing pains, too. When readership fell after the 2016 caucus, Mr. Rynard resorted to a part-time job to pay bills. Work has kept him away from his second daughter, who was born in October; “paternity leave means I’m at home in the evening,” he said.

After Monday, Starting Line is set to shrink. The site will cover Iowa’s Senate and House races, but four of Mr. Rynard’s reporters were hired only for the caucus. Nikoel Hytrek, who graduated from college last year, said she wasn’t sure what’s next. Paige Godden, a veteran of regional Iowa papers, said she had lined up one gig designing pamphlets for a chamber of commerce.

Ms. Meyer, the reporter who joined Starting Line from The Hawk Eye, is staying on full time. Her previous paper, in eastern Iowa, was bought by GateHouse Media in 2016, and she said the staff of 100 was whittled to about 20. At 26, she is the veteran reporter at Starting Line — not unusual in the ailing world of local news. “That’s how a lot of places are now,” she said.

Mr. Rynard, as he prepared for another day on the trail, grew emotional as he reflected on the difficulties of running a news start-up in 2020. “There’s been a lot of uncertainty,” he said. “I built a business from scratch in the journalism industry, where it’s impossible to do that right now.”

Then his Midwestern politeness quickly kicked in: “I hope that didn’t come off in a bragging way!”

from WordPress https://mastcomm.com/a-scrappy-iowa-start-up-is-the-it-read-for-political-insiders/

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kutee-boutique-fan-blog · 7 years

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Nervous Dinner With White Dog Shirt

Do you love it? https://kuteeboutique.com/shop/nervous-dinner-white-dog-shirt/

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That is so cute dog talk like that Nervous Dinner With White Dog Shirt think they’re real people that is so sweet dogs try to talk with people that is so adorable. Sure looks like he is having the time of his life, I had a dog who also loved the mud before he died. Easy to wash because he was a small dog. We all really need to spay and neuter our pets! Cute pups- but there are countless in shelters that need homes.

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Sandy as done this to me a couple of times. She can find a muddy puddle in the desert. You would have to soak Luna for a week to get her white again lol. I really don’t know what I would if Shane did that …. I would use cold water…… I would probably care more that he would. Don’t have to worry about Molly doing this. She even hates to get her feet wet.

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Our English Setter likes mud but not on her face and in her eyes! She does roll in mud if given the chance. My white Great Pyrenees did that right after we gave him a bath because he was mad he got a bath. Silly dog got a second bath before he could go back in the house. His buddy is chilling.. Probably thinking that you are going to get ittttt!!!! You knows better!

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Nervous Dinner With White Dog Shirt, Hoodie, Sweater, Longsleeve T-Shirt, Tank-Top, Guys Tee, Ladies

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Looks like me when I was kid my Mom would say Son what have your done?! Bastards, I found a white Shepard in South Central Los Angeles years a,. His leg was sliced by some kids and said cause it was white. I had him for many years , I miss him so much. Wish the officer threw him against the window and gave him a beating too.

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Someone should take this worthless thug and throw him against a window several times and give him a taste of what he gave the dog. God Bless now throw there asses against concrete wall and then lock there asses away for life. Easy atmosphere and comfortable/expandable seating.

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Because this chick forgot genetics were a thing…… Nervous Dinner With White Dog Shirt thanks for wasting our time to tell us that your expensive dogs came out black instead of white. Don’t let this distract you from the fact that if you or a loved one has been diagnosed with mesothelioma, you may be entitled to financial compensation. My dachshund and poodle mated and the mommy had 5 puppies all but one were light brown and white.the fifth one came out real dark brown and black.we were like what the? i guess this explains why lol!

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mastcomm · 4 years

Text

A Scrappy Iowa Start-Up Is the ‘It’ Read for Political Insiders

DES MOINES — The best political journalism you’ve never heard of is coming from a scrappy start-up in the East Village.

The East Village of Des Moines, that is.

Starting Line’s audience remains small compared with that of The Register, a Gannett paper that covers general news and sports. But Mr. Rynard’s readers are uniquely influential.

His video of Ms. Warren reacting in celebration was shared by thousands on social media, one of the viral hits of the caucus campaign.

Then his Midwestern politeness quickly kicked in: “I hope that didn’t come off in a bragging way!”

from WordPress https://mastcomm.com/a-scrappy-iowa-start-up-is-the-it-read-for-political-insiders/

#Business

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