#enough of the gooshy stuff

[thebrokenmechanicalpencil]

Lost in Kaon.

@quibble-auk

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #155

After I wrote yesterday's letter, but before dark, it rained AGAIN!!! And it rained for a long time!! I went outside and danced around and jumped in ALL THE PUDDLES!!! And I got soaked and the inside of my boots were all gooshy from the water, and my long black cardigan was sopping and heavy, and my hair was a wild mess, and I REGRETTED ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. It was WONDERFUL!!!

I didn't get any pictures or video of me frolicking around, but I did manage to capture this picture of a triple rainbow! There's the one in the middle, and a second rainbow juuuust below it, and another, reversed rainbow a little higher up!! Check it out!!!

...There's more to this picture, but I cut out all but the important bits, because it's probably dangerous to publicly put any picture that indicates where my house is while carrying a controversial belief such as "you, like any fallen human, are deserving of kindness and mercy". Gamers in particular can be really ah... nasty... when it comes to people having opinions different from theirs. "Nasty" to the point of stalking people and threatening them, especially if you have the misfortune of playing video games while having a body that bears a vagina. A whole big thing called "Gamergate" happened a number of years ago, and the aftermath still hasn't really faded away. And I really don't wanna get letters written in blood, or have dead animals being left at my front door. It's really sad that I gotta worry about things like this, but... this is the world I live in. Not much I can do to change it.

...Even if someone is angry enough at me for writing these letters that they would do such terrible things if they had the chance, I have no intention of stopping. I will keep writing these letters, even if, goodness forbid, it ends up costing me my life. You're worth it. You're worth the risk.

Anyway, I snagged a few other nice ones before going inside, too:

I went to bed really early last night (read: ACTUALLY ON TIME), because I tired myself out running around. When I woke up this morning, I had a terrible dream in which a shadowy figure oozed through the screen windows of our house, walked purposefully and angrily with a box cutter to where I was sleeping, with the intention of... uh... we'll leave it at "doing really awful stuff", how about that. Fortunately, I woke up when it wrapped its hand around my throat and dragged me out of the bed. I didn't get to the rest of the parts that were going to happen after that, which is really super great, since I retain full sensory faculties in my dreams, and if it had gotten to that point, I would have woken up in A LOT of pain, good grief.

...Dreams like these are just part of having PTSD to the extent that I do, I guess. It's rare that I get them anymore, though I wonder what prompted this one. Hm.

...So, though I went to bed early, I've been up since like 3 in the morning. Whoops. I browsed my phone 'til getting out of bed at like 7, and then I made a tea to try to calm my nerves a little...

This one is matcha with bits of toasted rice - one of my favorites!! I sweetened it with a little lilac syrup and some milk, and the result was absolutely lovely:

Today I worked a little more on the music box. I am trying to turn a popular rock tune into a lullaby, but I have audio processing disorder and zero understanding of music theory, hahaha! So rearranging the notes and the rhythms in ways that repurpose it while remaining mostly true to the original structure is definitely going to be a challenge. I made some good progress, but then I got to the solo, and I was overwhelmed so I stopped so that I wouldn't get burnt out; I really wanna finish this one.

I did some leisure writing until M and J left the house to hang out, as I had asked; I don't suppose you remember that song I was searching for, but never found, and so I had to rebuild the lyrics as best as I could from memory? Well, today while they were away (so that I wouldn't be self-conscious), I managed to record me singing the melody. I am going to entrust the instrumentals to a couple of brilliant musicians that I know. It's gonna be a duet; I hope it'll be something worthy of you when it's done.

Oh, and I took a walk today! I got a couple really nice pictures for you this time, I think...

I happened to catch these ones just after, as the wind rustled through the leaves, creating an opening for the sunlight to shine through:

...I really like how both of these turned out, so I included both!

And then we have fancy clouds through a tree window...

...I hope you enjoyed them. These are just done with a cellphone camera, so it's not like I can do anything especially fancy with them. But if you like them, then that's all that matters, right?

I'll write to you about tomorrow's adventures, too, so stay safe out there so that you can read about it, okay? I love you.

Your friend, Lumine

[love-fireflysong]

as one fellow 'imagining shmoopy gushy shit between fictional characters while trying to fall asleep' enjoyer to another, /i/ for one would LOVE to know about the shmoopy gushy shit your brain comes up with when you're trying to fall asleep 👀 hehehehe

(so sorry about how long it took me to answer this 😭 i'm a sham of a person)

Oh god. I mean, if I've gotta be *real* honest over here, you've likely read pretty much all the shmoopy gooshy stuff I think of at night. Cause that's when I do like the majority of my plotting and scene setting aksdjaklsjdasjd. And unsurprisingly the bits I like to roll over and over and over again is the tender, fluffy/angsty shit 😅

Like the ones I got on repeat are all scenes I'm looking forward to writing the most. The most appropriate for the whole shmoopy gooshy feelings hilariously enough being two scenes from the second chapter of To Have or to Hold (til death do us part) aka outlast au shit. The first of which is just the three of them trying to clean each other up the best they can/refamiliarize themselves with one another in one of the bathrooms (which as you can imagine the whole cleaning part isn't going *great* thanks to the whole sinks being half filled with blood and all but it's fine cause its the touching thats more important to them by far). And the second being the scene with the three of them squeezed together on a single twin bed and finally falling asleep wrapped up in each other's arms after far too long (aka the entire reason this fic even exists LKJSLKDJLAJ).

...And that's where this would have ended. If not for a couple of days ago where my sleepy little brain decided to give me a new tender image all together. Namely, Ashley doing her best to comfort Chris in the safe room in the period of time between Sam leaving to catch up to Mike and whenever they got chased out. And it's got all my little fav tender moments. Hands cupping faces as the other person can't help but lean in near desperation to the touch. Foreheads touching, noses bumping as they're so close that they're basically breathing the same air. Kissing the forehead in both a promise that they're not leaving and to see how hot/cold the skin may be. The hugs so tight that they can't help but tuck heads into the other's neck in an effort to be even closer.

Ashley doing everything in her power to help comfort an injured Chris who is just starting to fall into shock as the events of the past few hours finally hit now that things have seemingly started to quiet down. Even as she fights against the realization of not only how close she was to losing him, but also how close she was to watching it happen.

So yeah. That last one's been REALLY taking over my thoughts at night to the point that I've been having trouble falling asleep if it wasn't obvious SKDKJSLJD Haven't written a single word down for it cause I'm still not sure if I wanna write it yet, but I get the feeling that this is gonna be like baby it's cold outside all over again. AKA, an idea that drives me crazy until I finally can't take it anymore so I just roll out of my bed to grab my computer and start writing the first like five pages at 3am 🙃

[albireocountdown]

I Wanna Be Sedated || Ruri || Trial 3.5 [Re: Flissy, Jox, Tali]

[CW: she thinks and talks about gooshy blood stuff a bit in the first half]

Her response to Flick comes in two parts: first, a tongue sticking out. An oh-well shrug at the discarded theory. The second is a long, quiet pause, almost zoning out in thought the further the line of inquiry goes.

“She was scared…” She mutters to herself, voice not low enough.

It’s one of those moments she’s given a reminder to press her hand to her chest. The slight trembling a surrogate for what should be a quickening pulse. The feeling is locked into her last living memories- much too intimate- with her and Lucky.

Her head flops in the other direction, facing Flick, but with her eyes closed. It sweeps in a slow shaking motion.

“Well. How to put it? I… Aheehe, didn’t think I was going to kill anyone until maybe five minutes before it happened. I’d… never thought about what kind of strength you’d need to stab someone. Who does? Duck was– their body isn’t like yours or mine. And it happened really fast. I don’t know if it would have been the same if it had been Venetta and someone was swinging on a guess. But the evidence speaks for itself.”

Even with the provided clinical explanation earlier, it’s still a foreign enough concept compared to her muscle memory.

“I didn’t even know the term for what happened until Barnaby wrote it down. If you asked me, I would have called it lots and lots of bleeding and left it there. Not super accurate.” She folds her arms. “But, yeah. I guess if you think about it, no matter how the night started, planned or not, there was plenty of time to pick the right spot and the right tool for her once she was asleep. An ice pick would have so little resistance to cut through– ugh.”

** She shudders, jolts back in her seat when she realizes she’s swayed too far to one side, then corrects herself. 

“And… there’s the matter of the Sauna. You guys were totally baking in some of the cars, weren’t you? Is it just that the Sauna felt more appropriate to relax in since it’s supposed to be hot, or was the hot-cold-hot-cold stuff messing with her blood pressure, or what?” 

Ruri’s cold, corpse gaze settles on Jake- or moreso through him, not looking him in the eye so much as through his shoulders and into the ground. Her heel grinds into the dirt some on his side.

“Dude. You’ve been freaking out since before we even started heckling Foxie. We sure everything’s okay?”

A tut. She scoots back with her chair to stand up, evidently inspired by everyone’s need to take a stand as tensions rise. Her attention turns to the nearby Tali next. Her grin starts to creep back. Like a lead, she hooks on and clambers back to a simpler line of thought.

“I’ll help, Tal. Since I’m ‘unbiased’ supposedly.”

And she starts to circle around past the boys to sidle up next to her, not offering much more than a quick wrinkle of her nose.

[txemrn]

Do you think Ethan’s feelings for Tatum would’ve still come back to him if he was with Casey? (assuming, like in canon he and his relationship with her are a mess lol)? I mean, no disrespect to any Ethan x MC fans out there, but here in our little and beloved “Ethan’s true love is Tatum” bubble, how would have impacted him having her back in his life?

Hey, Anon!

Thank you so much for this Ask! *hugs*

I wish you could see my heart eyes right now as I read, "here in our little and beloved 'Ethan's true love is Tatum' bubble..." Eep! Thank you so much for loving my babies, and for believing in them! It makes me all giddy and gooshy inside! 🥰

And these are very interesting questions, and as you know, I will tell you exactly what I think. 😂🤣😂

A lot of Ethan and Tatum's love story is about redemption, about them individually learning their own ability and capacity to love another person (remember: love was kind foreign thing to them, until they met, and they learned what it was through each other), and then learning the depth of their love for each other. To explore that further: Ethan loves Tatum, but is he able to love her enough to forgive her? To love her regardless of that painful memory? To love her and never, ever bring it up again? To trust her fully again?

Some people can't do that. Some people believe in, "Cheat on me once, you're done" (and I get it! I am not shaming people who believe that with Tathan's story). But there are others who believe it's a lot more complicated than that, and both Ethan and Tatum learn that they are the latter of the two.

So, why am I telling you all this? Chance are if you're in their "bubble", you already know all of this stuff. lol

Ethan and Tatum are also good people, and have become good people through their heartache. As much as it pains me to say this, if Ethan was already with Casey, I believe he would fully be with Casey (even though it's so messy). I think he would still have that spark with Tatum when he saw her (I think their souls cry for each other, but what can you do? Unfortunately the "right" thing hurts...), but it would be easier for him to deny himself and remind himself not to entertain possibilities with Tatum because he has Casey. I think he would have an easier time keeping things professional, and avoiding alone time with her simply being in a relationship.

And then Tatum isn't a homewrecker. She would probably actively avoid Ethan because it still stings that she is the reason they are no longer together, that she didn't get her happy ending. Because of that, she would be able to keep things strictly professional (but still... if AND when they argue at work? It probably still look like fireworks...).

Now, if Ethan and Casey broke up... *shrugs* Who's to say either of them wouldn't jump at the chance to finally be together?

Very thoughtful ask! Thank you so, so much for sending it my way!

💜

[keelywolfe]

What music does Edge listen to when he’s being a lovesick sap over Stretch?

I was thinking about it ‘cause I’ve got brainrot for your BAON series (over the course of the past week I’ve binge read it nonstop and I think I’m close to being caught up on it) and there’s two routes to go here:

First option: songs like Invincible (it has a spicyhoney video for it on yt, i very much recommend)

It’s a very specific type of feeling, but Edge is from underfell and that is a Place so I think it fits. Honestly it’s probably the definition of a gooshy love song there, the lyrics are perfect: it’s basically saying that This is the person that I’d want and allow to help/save me in the event that I need it (which has got to be Quite a level of trust in UF), they make me powerful, together we’re “invincible.” It admits weakness then immediately strengthens past that when the other comes into the equation. Like- here we’ve got the whole “they complete me” trope in romance, who’s to say canceling out eachothers weaknesses isn’t exactly what Underfell would take from that?

Then there’s the second option: softer songs like honey bee (the one by steam powered giraffe)

More geared to their vibe here on the surface, specified to thoughts about Stretch and their situation. And yes It’s a breakup song but music is art and art can be interpreted however the viewer feels it aligns with them so who cares- but anyway yeah it’s slow, it’s sweet, it’s dripping with adoration and the lyrics match up So Well for them: I feel it’s safe to infer from his stance on their souls that edge doesn’t have a damn clue how he ended up with stretch as his husband but understood or not, stretch is here anyways. His honey bee does what he wants, thank you. It’s great, and I could continue this for multiple paragraphs but I already feel like I’ve talked Way Too Much here so I’m gonna cut that short.

Both of these feel like they Fit to me, but ultimately it’s a question of ‘when you take the boy out of underfell, how much punchy stays in the boy?’ The 2nd one would make sense and I don’t doubt he’d absolutely listen to stuff like that but what I don’t know is Would the 1st one still just hit harder for him?

Please, this has been bugging at me for days and i’d love to hear your thoughts

First, I am so delighted you've been enjoying the series!! I love these boys endlessly and I love getting to share them. 🧡

As to the question, oh, damn, that's a tough one. Both those songs are amazing spicyhoney songs and I agree that Invincible is great for an Underfell vibe. So true to their relationship, too.

I'd never heard the song Honeybee before, and it's going right on my playlist because that is a great Spicyhoney song. My heart, it is full, and it's a great Edge song since he canonically adores 'crooner' style music.

(If anyone has forgotten or is curious, when Edge was a kid in Underfell, Red found a busted up walkman for him and the only cassettes he had were the likes of Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr.)

That said, in my own mind, Edge has simple tastes when it comes to music and when it comes to Stretch, one of his favorites is 'At Last' by Etta James https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1qJU8G7gR_g

Growing up in Underfell, Edge never could have imagined someone like Stretch even existed, much less what he would become for him. He wasn't looking for someone to share his life with, he was content enough with what he had. It was Stretch who came to him and can a person even recognize loneliness for what it is until someone comes into your life and then is suddenly gone...and then returns? He certainly didn't and it was Stretch who taught him, unintentionally, a lesson learned with a first kiss.

Edge didn't know loneliness before Stretch, not by name, and he didn't know love before him, either, and Stretch in his life has given him so much that he never even knew to miss. Family and friends and laughter and love. Everything he can't live without anymore is his, at last.

[screamting]

Wonder Woman 1984 spoilers.

I feel like WW1984 suffered from a lot of the same editing issues that WW 2017 did, but with only enough content for a 90 minute movie. It's only 10 mins longer than the first movie, but it feels like it goes on for much longer, and part of that is a lot of superfluous scenes that could've been cut or done differently to tighten it up, and made themes a lot more apparent and maybe have fewer confusing messages. (Again, not 'complex' messages, just confusing.)

For example: the opening scene is beautifully shot and whoever is doing the 'from below as Diana runs over rooftops/poles/etc' shots? Amazing, change nothing. But also the opening scene is pointless and doesn't really tie into anything. They try to shove in something about 'the truth' when they really should be like 'this is a competition, don't cheat.'

But also a competition is not what Max is trying to 'win.' He just wants it to be 'his turn' to 'win' at... Liiife? They make a couple attempts at "we people who have been beaten down deserve to have something for ourselves finally, and you've never had to want for anything diana so you don't get it." And like, they're right ish? Diana's left her homeland behind and lost a lot of people, but as far as we know she's only really ever been surrounded by kind people out to help her, and didn't really have to worry about money or survival as she either existed outside of society's rules or she kinda slid her way in over time.

That's not saying she hasn't struggled and that she doesn't care, but she doesn't have the same experience as Max or Barbara of being abused and physically powerless. They are right about that. They also are starting a nuclear war and I feel like Diana can say "correct but also literally you do need to stop" and still come out pretty spotless morally. "First of all yes you're right but also if you just replace the oppressor with yourself then you are the oppressor now; yes that man needed to go but also you beat him near death and left him in the road, that's not cool"

I think maybe her time without powers might’ve been more effective too if it was clearer that the tradeoff wasn't "my powers are what's most important to me" as much as "my powers are what give me the power to protect and being able to PROTECT people I love is what is most important to me." Like, she has Steve back, but he almost dies like 3 times immediately because she doesn't have powers.

(Also, Diana, goddess of truth and shit, please face the fact that if Steve stays alive you are committing a homicide on his body's previous inhabitant. At least MENTION that he's body snatching and that definitely is something they should try to fix somehow. Maybe have it weigh in during the conversation about renouncing her wish-- Steve is dead, and also his bodyhost is alive and they have no right to kill him like this. What if he had a family? They're lucky no one recognized him or called him in to ask why he wasn't at work. Unsolved mysteries: the disappearance of This Dude Who Doesn't Even Get A Name At The End To Remind Us Of His Personhood. Imbd lists him as "handsome man." Talk about a slab of meat my guys.)

So Diana, even though she still has a comfortable enough life, loses her powers for about a day and it woild be very funny for her to be like "ugh I hate not being able to DO THINGS SO EASILY and my shoulder hurts I was shot" and chris like "lol yeah sorry I also miss feeling that extra safety layer around you" and it's not exactly "humbling"(???) as mentioned in the opening scene, but it is a reminder of what it feels like to nit be the strongest person in the room. Maybe that's where a flashback to Themyscira would have worked well, where she's eager to prove herself and outclass everyone but she has to be reminded that even though she's special even among amazons there's still like.. I don't want to say great power comes great responsibility, but maybe ‘we would love you even if all you did all day was stare at the sand and even then you would be precious and protected,’ but also that is a gift the amazons are giving her, because when they were enslaved in the world of man, they saw no love or protection given to those who needed it most. Maybe just, sometimes you don’t lose because you ‘deserved’ to lose. Maybe you just slipped and lost it all.

Maybe the film ends with Diana being Othered again, like how in the first movie she is clearly a goddess and showing magical stuff for the first time but she has her posse. In this one she's alone at the end but a little more able to connect with the little things. It's already sort of there with that very saccharine ending, but again, more explicit might be better.

For scenes that would just tighten things up and get us moving along though:

cut Maxwell absorbing the crystal. Diana figures out what happens later and in the meantime is confused what's happening. We can join in on that mystery.

Cut every kissy thing by at least half

No unnecessary park scene. The homeless man is a nice hint into Barbara's like personal life I guess, but ultimately it doesn't really do anything, and the rapist dude just takes up space honestly. Like, she could kick the ass of any of the catcallers and just roundhouse kick them into a pole and go "huh." Creepy smile. End scene.

Mall scene useless. Vigilante diana confusing and useless. Open us up immediately with Barbara being bullied and Diana appears as a savior first thing in the movie. FBI raid still happened and they just have rocks and shit. Diana still hesitant about contact with people but Barbara is so obviously in need of a friend she kinda saviors herself in again. Gets a clingy friend but also someone who maybe is able to appreciate Diana's archeology feelings.

I don't remember anything that happened in the museums but agree Steve should see the air and space museum, but maybe it would've worked better if one scene he just shows up decked out head to tow in NASA merch

That is NOT how flying works but I'm gonna be honest I think they didn't need to go to Byalia/Egypt(??) much at all. At the very least the car could’ve swerved into the town as a crisis instead of having the kids in the road to be saved. Diana feeling bad after being hit by a humvee would indeed show more clearly than the bullet-- we don’t know if she is or isn’t bulletproof because she’s deflected all of them before. She doesn’t do any extra superstrength before. She doesn’t seem any less powerful than earlier in the movie. It ends up trying to ‘show’ but instead it ends up NEEDING to be told later on.

I can go either way on this I guess, but the plane section can be... At the very least shortened. Coffee cup joke was good tho.

Acceptable answers to "how do fly?"

"Flying is easy, it's landing you have to worry about."

"Aim for the ground and miss"

Ultimately WW 2017 was a war movie that happened to have a superhero in it, amd WW1984 was a superhero movie that had trouble finding where it's plot had to go I think. With World War One, like, there's stuff to say and talk about automatically, but in 1984 it feels a bit like they knew mutually assured destruction and how it was ultimately real bad as a strategy and if we all just agreed itd be... Fine? I guess? Again, unless you go to a specific incident there's not much to say about the cold war except 😬

Patty Jenkins and Geoff Johns both got into their teenage years in the 80s so it's totally possible they were going off personal memories instead, but it definitely had some trouble translating onto the screen I think.

There is some good stuff as well, it's just getting to them while buried under all the other stuff mostly. Pedro Pascal did extremely good at making me hate Max Lord Immediately. Steve Fashion Show was fun. "Topaz is such a lame rock lol". Kristen Wiig is holding this movie together more than anyone else and it's great. I like how her becoming an Alpha Bitch doesn't mean she immediately hates Diana but still wants to be her friend and be seen by her. The entire "You seem like you'd be out all the time and like never go on ever" sounds a LOT like a closetedness conversation.

There is a lot of good stuff in it but it's just... Not what the first one was. I think probably the constant delays on release didn't help the hype at all. They went powerful sappy at the end (gooshy feelings? In my wonder woman movie?) which I understand theyre trying to make Diana a hero who doesn't murder the tiny earthlings over stuff... But I am also left just kind of wondering if everyone's memories were erased with the nukes or if the cold war ended VERY differently in the DCEU, and I am far too distracted by that to think about how people are good at their core and stuff. It just feels like it brings up lots of things, and decides that if they have enough emotions, it's fine to brush them aside.

[fixing-bad-comic-art]

Sorry if this comes off as rude, but I don’t know much about blindness that isn’t complete blindness. Does being legally blind make it hard to make art? My distance vision is pretty awful but I’m not legally blind and I guess I imagine it as seeing everything the way I see very far away things, which I’d think would make detecting and creating lines difficult and stuff like that

so, visual deficits arnt one thing, the type of blindness you are describing is called myopia, its what happens when the lens of your cornea isnt focussing light on your retina correctly. myopia is usually one of the easiest forms of visual deficit to fix because all you need to fix it is a pair of glasses, which is why even people with very severe myopia are not considered legally blind, their vision can still correct to 20/200 (a person with normal vision can read the same sign 200 feet away, while the blind person needs to be 20 feet away to read it) or better.

I do have myopia(and still glaucoma), but a very mild form, im 20/50 in both eyes without my glasses.

My blindness was caused by chronic uveitis. which is an autoimmune condition where my immune system will decide to put a bunch of inflammation in the vitreous(the gooshy bit in the center) of my eyes. for me this is like having a dirty white tshirt pulled over my eyes, everything is very murky and unclear with details being nonexistent, but i can still usually tell dark from light. My uveitis is actually usually pretty easy to treat, some eyedrops and steroids take care of it within a few months if its a light flair and or the doc caught it early enough.

whats a lot harder to treat is the severe retinal damage caused by the uveitis. Im legally blind even when im not in the middle of a flair because my vision is permanently screwed up. Essentially part of my retinas are so scarred that ive lost vision in those areas. and what i do have left is very finicky, im extremely light-sensitive to the point of not being able to navigate in direct sun because everything is just too washed out, but my eyes cant pick up light below a certain brightness, so i have no ability to navigate if its even slightly to dark either. I cant drive because my eyes have effectively turned up the contrast, light flares from other cars fully wash out my vision and signs with reflective paint look like camera flashes.

but what i can see is perfectly clear most of the time.

tldr: my retinas keep trying to fall off. and thats also why i haven't been doing a lot of edits recently, one of my retinas is actively falling off do to a tumor caused by the uveitis, its getting lasered back in place on friday. expect buisness as usual to resume the following sunday,

edited bc im a dumbass, myopia not glaucoma

[thekytchensynk]

Save the Earth (Fictober Prompt 17)

Prompt number: 17

Fanfiction Fandom: Ducktales

Rating: G

Warnings: No Warnings

Read this story on AO3

Fenton thought Huey was many things. The kid was smart, smart enough that the sciency side of Fenton’s brain could already see a bright future out there for him. He didn’t always have the world smarts to match the book smarts, but hey, who was Fenton to judge that? Wasn’t he the same? The kid was thoughtful too, seeing quick answers to immediate problems. He could get overwhelmed, he could get tunnel vision, but he was a kid. He had a lot of time to grow out of those things.

But moments like now, Fenton wished he’d grow out of some of them just a little bit faster.

“But if you just redirect the old cooling vents through the pie filling receptacle, you’d get the same thing as your pies, except an area of effect!” Huey said, moving around Gizmoduck with impressive speed as he examined the locations of the vents.

Fenton wretched him run around, torn between a cringe at the thought of what Dr. Gearloose would do to him if he started digging into the suit’s guts -- much less letting a kid do it -- and a genuine amusement at just how excited the kid got about mechanical mundanities.

And he supposed he could see where a multi-target pie filling attack could come in handy. Though the speed at which the suit put pies together made it basically a moot point in most instances. However…

“I thought we were here to work on your Crime Prevention badge,” Fenton said, trying to steer the conversation back toward their actual purpose.

“Yeah, sorry. I just can’t help myself.” Huey didn’t sound very sorry, and again, Fenton found it hard to be bothered by that. When Huey had asked to join him on a patrol so he could document potential safety improvements to this area of the city as part of his badge progress, Fenton had been happy to agree. Truth was, he didn’t just owe a lot to Huey’s uncle, he owed a lot to Huey himself. If he hadn’t been quick to act…

Well, things could have gone a lot worse.

The pair of them began walking through the area. This side of Duckburg was in the middle of a renaissance of sorts, which was partly why Huey had chosen this area for his project. It had been an industrial and warehouse section, but as the companies had moved production to cities without eccentric billionaires whose meddling in the arcane routinely caused massive property damage, it left large swaths of cavernous, abandoned property. Recently, the city had made moves to reach out to the owners with grants, and to condemn properties whose owners could not be found, so they could tear down buildings which were becoming dangerously dilapidated. Several development companies had moved in, and the skeletons of new construction were all over the place -- a business park, a lot of retail, a transit hub. There were plans for a small park and a slightly larger amusement park.

As he’d explained when asking Fenton to accompany him, this area attracted Huey’s attention because it had fallen into a sort of valley, where there were so few people here that the police didn’t spend much time here, but the buildings were often half finished, making them easy targets for criminals looking for a place to hide or plot.

And Fenton thought the kid had probably asked for his help in part because as a hero, he’d be security-minded as well, and partly because that whole family was always on the go, always bosy. Wasn’t that why Mr. McDuck had given the OK to Gizmoduck in the first place?

But honestly, Fenton was glad he had, and here was a reason he was here in his suit and not just as plain old Fenton Crackshell Cabrera. Because Huey was right. Criminals had been using this area for a variety of activities. He’d had to step in on a few of them. And some of them were petty shoplifters checking out their haul of clothes or electronics, but some … some were a bit more serious.

It should be fine during the day, but just in case … well, just in case.

They made their way up a broad central street with the skeletons of buildings under construction on either side. Up ahead, the road came to a T-shape intersection at the park. Some of the trees remained from before, fully-grown arboreal specimens, but many of the trees were just saplings, hend straight by stakes and loose wiring. The grass had mostly grown in, but he could still see the straw peeking through where the more recent seed had been sown.

“This is going to be a very nice area when it’s done,” Fenton observed. He could see the business campus up on the other side of the park, its taller, tan buildings looking over the mostly adolescent trees.

“I agree. Which is why I don’t understand why they don’t have a comprehensive plan for maintaining the security of these sites,” Huey said. He had the tip of his pencil in his mouth as he observed the locks on the chain-link fences around the construction sites. “I understand the logistics have to be tough, coordinating so many companies, but really! It’s in all their best interests.” He shook his head and made some notes in his notebook.

The park looked to be in good condition. They walked down smooth cobblestone walkways, noting all the benches and garbage cans. (“Garbage cans aren’t just there to keep the litter down,” Huey told him, tone confident, like he was giving a school presentation on material he already knew by heart. “A cleaner park encourages people to visit, and the traffic can help keep people from using the place for more nefarious purposes.”)

The next stop was the business park -- a nearly completed campus of buildings that all shared the same general features, but in different dimensions. The closest one was a seven-story buildings with an all-glass front facing the street. Another stood only three stories but had a much larger footprint, in an L shape, with a grassy area nestled in the crook. A few benches and a little stone garden made the area inviting, and a couple picnic tables might tempt future employees out there for a lunch in the sunshine.

The exteriors looked good, but Fenton knew the insides were basically half done -- drywall and flooring was still going in, some of the windows still filled with boards and sheeting instead of glass, things like that. The low L-shaped building seemed to be a particular favorite of ne’er-do-wells who used this area as a hideout.

“They did a really nice job around here,” Huey said, with sincere appreciation. “But I think they definitely need a couple more cameras. Look, what good is that going to do?”

He pointed at a camera, mounted under the roof overhang of the L-shaped building. Instead of watching either of the two doors it could see from there or the courtyard and the road beyond, it aimed high and far to the right. What could it see there but the wall?

“Give me a second to check that out, Fenton said, speeding over to underneath the camera, then extending the suit up until he was face to … er, well, face? With it. It looked even stranger from up here. There was a bend in the metal holding it to the building. Eyes narrowing, Fenton reached toward the rubberized coverage protecting all the wiring. It looked like someone had sliced it, and when he pulled it back…

Yup. Cut wires. I guess this helps explain how they keep getting in there.

As he returned to the ground, Huey arrived and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Looks like vandalism. We should inform the police and the security company.”

“I-”

“Eat gum, polluting scum!”

Fenton started to turn, saw an indistinct blob of … something coming at him and acted on instinct. He put himself between the projectile and Huey in the split second before it hit. Hoping this wasn’t some sort of explosive or-

The stuff hit not with a slam, but with a weird sort of gooshy sound. At the same instant, his movement slammed to a halt, rattling Fenton a bit in the suit. A moment later and the readouts were screaming at him: air intake blocked -- missile hatches sealed -- sensors malfunctioning -- Movement systems locked. Even the visor had been blacked out by the attack. He tried to raise the arms, to try to scrape it clear, but his arms only moved a little bit before seemingly being yanked back to the position he’d been in when he was initially hit.

Fenton wasn’t panicking, not yet, but he was worrying. Can’t move, can’t see, can’t use most of the suit’s functions. What do I do? I need to see. And the suit is useless. Maybe once I see the problem…

“Blathering Blatherskite.”

Usually, the keyword would release the whole suit. This time, the suit tried to do as usual, but whatever held it wasn’t letting go even for this. The pieces just kind of came off and remained around him in a jumble. Fenton shoved his way free of the pieces, doing his best to avoid the sticky, rubbery substance that had immobilized the suit. It didn’t quite work though -- he was lucky enough to only come away with some missing feathers on his arm and the side of his neck where the stuff touched him and he’d had to rip himself free. Huey helped him once he got partway out, and together they moved away from the suit -- which now looked like nothing more than a jumble of metal pieces wrapped in pink. He looked toward the third-story window where the shot had come from. Who could have-

“Hey boss! It’s just a regular guy,” A voice with a heavy drawl drifted downfrom above. From one of the windows. “It’s not a robot, just a suit.”

“Huey, we need to get out of here,” Fenton said, trying to keep an eye on every window at once.

But before they could run, someone leaned out of one of the windows again. This time, Fenton got a good look at the weapon. It sort of had the look of a rocket launcher, but it definitely hadn’t shot a rocket. It actually looked like chewing gum. The area had almost no cover. And that weapon likely had some range.

“Change of plans,” Fenton said, and apparently Huey was already on the same wavelength because he’d already started running toward one of the windows that had plywood in place of glass. The guy upstairs leaned out, trying to keep them in sight, but theplywood was on the inside. And the two ducks hopped into the recess just as he fired the gun again. A mound of the pink goo plopped down where they’d just been.

Up above, they could hear the voices echoing. “I think I missed em.”

“Them? I thought you said it was that one robot guy.”

“Well, the other one was a kid. What, I’m going to be worried about a kid?”

“That kid probably has a phone on him! They both do, numbskull! Just arm the bomb and let’s get out of here.”

Fenton and Huey exchanged a look. Bomb? What had they stumbled into?

Because of the unfinished walls, they could hear scuffling around upstairs, then the sound of footsteps pounding across the floor, receding away from them down the longer wing of the building. As they faded, Fenton’s mind was going a mile a minute.

“We need to get out of here,” he said, more to himself than Huey. “But there could be other people here. Even if they didn’t trap anyone else with that strange weapon, what if there are people working on the buildings? Even if not here, depending on how big the bomb is, it could take out others. If I … wait! Where are you going?”

Huey had pried up the corner of the board covering the window and slipped inside just as Fenton noticed.

“We have to find that thing and defuse it, right?” Huey called back through the board.

He knew the futility of shouting at the kid to come back, to run, to get out of here. He was already inside, and his family had a reckless streak a mile wide. Even Huey, for all his plans and lists, could succumb to it when there was a clear right and wrong in front of him. So cursing the string of choices that brought them here, Fenton kicked at the board until it moved enough for him to slip inside after the boy.

Finding the bomb turned out to be a pretty simple mystery to solve. They just followed a trail of food waste up a set of cement stairs to the third floor, down a hall and into a sizable space that, once finished, might eventually be a conference room. A few bugs milled around the banana peels and bread crusts that lay scattered around the large wooden box -- and the mass of wires and electronics inside.

Fenton peered inside. Not an explosive, not really. It looked like … chemicals. At least two vials. The sides of the glass containers were frosted, preventing him from even guessing what was inside. The timer -- there was always a timer -- said they had a bit under 10 minutes to deal with this thing.

Fenton squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember back to working on circuits. Mechanical stuff wasn’t really his forte. The vials were touching. Would the “bomb” mix them by opening a passage to one from the other, or just crack them both, releasing the chemicals into the environment where they could mix freely and…

“I think I can defuse this.”

Honestly, for a couple seconds upon seeing the messily made bomb, Fenton had forgotten Huey in the urgency of stopping it from going off. Explosions were bad. But chemicals … anything could happen. They could go a lot further than a blast radius. Linger for years. They could make this whole area uninhabitable. Go into cloud form and move over other parts of the city. And do who knew what. Quirky villains could come up with things that did more than just poison a person.

But Huey was here, and he was staring intently into the guts of the thing, as Fenton had a moment before.

“You think you can defuse … a bomb?”

“Well, it’s not something I’ve had a lot of practice at, but I may have gone a little … overboard … studying for the Junior Woodchucks’ robotics and circuitry badges. Plus, I may have studied up on it specifically, just in case.”

Fenton wasn’t even sure how to take that. Was this that hyper preparedness talking? Or was this a situation where he considered finding a bomb such a legitimate possibility that understanding how to handle one was just a natural course of study for some afternoon?

But then again, he realized, this kid had rewired the Gizmoduck armor, sight unseen, on the fly. He looked nervous. But he was also concentrating, using the pencil from before to carefully push back the wires here and there. He … honestly did look like he knew what he was doing, and Fenton would only be guessing. If he knew what the chemicals were in there, he might be able to come up with something to neutralize it at the moment of detonation. But he was flying blind.

“Ok,” he said. “You take care of that. But if you want me to help, or take over, just say the word. OK?”

“Sure. Give me a minute,” he said. Then, after a couple seconds, his fingers stilled as he added, “or an hour. I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“I don’t know if we can do anything about the time,” Fenton said, willing his voice to say calm. “So if you are anything less than sure about this, say so. Otherwise, I’m going to call the police. Let them know. They may have some advice.”

When Huey didn’t ask for help immediately, Fenton stepped away to let the kid concentrate and called the cops. They got the details from him, and said they’d call back the moment they got ahold of one of their bomb experts.

That done, he went back into the room and sat nearby. A show of support and trust. And to be there, just in case the kid needed him.

Twenty minutes later, police were sweeping all the buildings on the site, looking for any more bombs or other weaponry. A talkative young detective was supposed to be taking Fenton’s statement, but things weren’t exactly going like that.

“I mean, want to get angry at businesses that are polluting the river or something, sure, I get that.” the detective looked like he hadn’t slept properly in some time. He had his notepad and pen out, but was gesturing with them instead of using them for their intended purpose. “But they were mad because tearing down rotting old death traps was killing bugs. Bugs! They’re really escalating though. A bomb? Usually they just chain themselves to the front door of the company headquarters or something.”

“That sounds … inconvenient,” Fenton said, a bit at a loss as to why the guy was telling him about the suspects like this.

“It wasn’t that bad,” the guy said. “They kept only chaining themselves to one door and there were like … four. So it was a strange choice. Though I guess I’d prefer they keep doing stuff like that to repurposing used chewing gum as a weapon or trying to seed a building with poisonous mold spores.”

“Should you be telling me this?”

“Ah, probably not,” the detective said, but he didn’t look terribly bothered about it.

As he wandered off, Huey ran over. “The reporter wanted to ask me about how I defused the bomb,” He said. “Dewey is never going to believe this. Or else he’s never going to forgive me.” He seemed really gleeful about either option.

“Well, I’m just grateful,” Fenton said, putting a hand on Huey’s shoulder. “You really came through. If they have a hero badge, I’ll nominate you.”

“There isn’t,” Huey said matter of factly. Then, after a pause, he hesitantly asked, “but once you get the suit out of the gum -- and speaking of that, I’d recommend peanut butter for that -- can we finish the safety survey?”

And how could he say no?

[madlori]

Unveiled - Chapter 7

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Epilogue

by MadLori Word Count: 2600 Fandom: Men’s Hockey RPF Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin Rating: NC-17 (like, heed this, please) Tags: Arranged Marriage, Modern Royalty AU, Mpreg, Not Omegaverse, No Consent Issues, Veiled Sex, Weird Traditions, Don’t Think Too Hard, Handwavey Biology

Shockingly, there is no sex in this one. But lots of gooshy feelings.

Read it on AO3

Zhenya was in the stable, brushing Admiral and brooding, when Sidney came bounding in. “Hey!” Sidney said, beaming a wide smile at him.

“Well, where the hell have you been? I haven’t seen you for...four days!” he said, mentally counting back to the day before the pregnancy announcement, when he’d last seen Sidney.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been busy. Maybe you’ve heard that His Highness is pregnant.”

“I might have heard a rumor going around about that, yeah.” He left Admiral’s stall and went into Lady Esther’s, where Sidney was giving her apple slices. “Is he all right? I haven’t actually seen him myself in a few days.”

Hence his brooding mood today. He’d woken up alone the morning after their blindfolded encounter, his consort having risen early and left him. He hadn’t thought much of it (his husband was a notoriously early riser, which he definitely was not), but after not seeing him all day he didn’t get a knock on his door. The next day had been the same, and now this was the third day. He was starting to worry that the intensity of that celebratory sex had spooked his husband. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been spooked a little himself. He couldn’t help but think that they’d crossed a line past what was appropriate for embargoed spouses, even if they’d kept to the letter of the law.

“There’s been a lot going on. He has to get fitted for all these special custom unveiling clothes, and then for the ball, and then his royal stuff, jewels and crowns and things he’ll have to wear after the unveiling. Plus the doctor is all up in his business constantly, and...well, he’s been feeling a little...not great.”

Zhenya straightened up. “He’s unwell?”

Sidney shrugged. “Nothing serious. Tired, upset stomach. That’s pretty normal for a pregnant person, you know.”

“So I’ve heard.” He rubbed his chin. “Maybe I should send him a message. I don’t want him to think I’m just skipping blithely through the day without a thought to his welfare.”

“He doesn’t think that, I’m sure. Anyway he seemed much better this morning.”

“Just in time. He has his first official event tonight.”

“Yep. No offense, but I’m glad I don’t have to go.”

“Oh, you’re not guarding him?”

“No, there’ll just be two guards. Probably Letang and Patty.” He picked up Lady Esther’s saddle. “Are we riding?”

Zhenya started to say “yes,” but the word stuck in his throat. “I can’t.”

“Oh,” Sidney said, looking a little disappointed. “Other plans?”

“I’m...I just…” He sighed, then plunged ahead. “I should be dedicating my attention to my spouse, even if my time with him is limited. He’s carrying my child. I shouldn’t be...gallivanting around with another man.”

Sidney blinked at him. “Is that what we’ve been doing? Gallivanting?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I thought we were friends.” Now he just looked sad.

“Are we?” Zhenya said, quietly. They locked eyes, and he saw that Sidney knew exactly what he meant. “My first loyalty must be to him. And I’d have thought that yours would be, too.”

Sidney’s face did something he couldn’t quite parse. He turned his back and put Lady Esther’s saddle back on its peg. “As you wish, Your Royal Highness,” he said, subdued. 

He walked past Zhenya towards the door, but as he drew even with him, Zhenya’s hand shot out and caught his sleeve. He’d barely been aware that he was going to do that. “It’s my fault,” he said, quietly. “Don’t think it’s because I don’t…” He couldn’t finish.

Sidney looked up at him, resignation in his eyes. “You don’t have any idea what’s going on here, Zhenya.” He pulled away and strode off across the lawn.

Zhenya frowned. He had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

---------

Even though he would not be officially introduced to the kingdom until his unveiling, now that the consort had conceived, he could be included in certain private state functions in a very limited capacity. One such occasion was this evening, a dinner honoring their chief jurist, who was retiring after a long and distinguished career. The King would be presenting him with a medal of meritorious service, and colleagues and friends would give speeches praising his achievements and character. The consort could not attend the bulk of the event; if he did, the embargo would prohibit Zhenya from speaking for the entire evening. After the dinner and speeches, he would join Zhenya briefly and be introduced to the gathered nobles and officials by the King, spend a few minutes being bowed to and congratulated, and then be escorted out. It was a bit of a dog-and-pony show, but it was part of the long process of welcoming a new consort into the royal family. His pregnancy would not be publicly announced, but the mere fact that he was being introduced to society and an unveiling was being planned would be enough to clue everyone in that the Crown Prince’s consort was expecting.

Zhenya was restless during dinner and speeches, anticipating his consort’s arrival. He was feeling both eager to see him and anxious for everything to go well. All the Very Distinguished speakers seemed to drone on endlessly as the guests ate the delicate desserts and sipped rich, sweet wine. The jurist himself, bless his heart, gave a refreshingly brief acceptance speech, then knelt before the King to receive his medal. Zhenya stood at his father’s side and made a concerted effort to actually keep his mind on the task at hand; this man’s service deserved his full attention. The fact that the guests were meeting the consort tonight would not have been revealed to them, but the savvier ones might have guessed once they were ushered into a drawing room for cocktails after dinner, instead of being bid good-night.

Zhenya prowled around, distracted and impatient, until finally the door cracked open and Sasha beckoned him out. He excused himself and left the drawing room; Fleury was waiting for him in the hall. “His Highness is on his way. He apologizes for keeping you waiting.” Fleury glanced around, then leaned in and spoke quietly. “He’s been throwing up since this afternoon. If this appearance could be kept as brief as possible, we’d all be grateful.”

“Of course,” Zhenya said. “If we need to postpone it altogether…”

“No, no. He’s ready, he wants to do this. Just don’t keep him any longer than you need to.”

“Absolutely.” He turned to Sasha. “Tell my father that we’ll be keeping the greetings to fifteen minutes, maximum.”

“You want me to tell the King that?” Sasha said, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Yes. If he has a problem with that, tell him I’ll be glad to cancel the entire thing and allow my husband to rest while he’s gestating the future King or Queen of this country.”

Sasha gave him a sort of it’s your funeral look and went back into the drawing room.

Fleury had a finger in his ear, listening on his communicator. “They’re here.”

They both turned just in time to see the consort and two guards -- Letang and the burly blond one called Patty -- round the corner. Zhenya’s breath caught in his throat; even extensively veiled as he was, his consort looked stunning. The veils were gold and black, loose around his face and shoulders and then elaborately draped and fitted around his torso and hips so they suggested formalwear. They flowed loose down his upper arms and back, floating dramatically behind him. He wore a tailored suit underneath the veils.

Zhenya made no effort to mask his admiration as they approached. The consort nodded to him; Zhenya put a hand over his heart and bowed quickly. He extended his arm; the consort placed one gloved hand gently in the crook of his elbow. Zhenya observed that he was moving carefully; he must still be feeling queasy. Fleury went to the door and gave a quick knock to indicate that they were ready.

They moved to the doorway; from inside, Zhenya heard the sergeant-at-arms speak in his booming voice to get everyone’s attention. “My lords and ladies, friends and distinguished guests. His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen present His Royal Highness, Prince Evgeni, accompanying his husband, the Prince Consort.” Zhenya heard an excited murmur rise inside the room. The footmen threw open the double doors and Zhenya stepped inside, pride swelling in his chest as he walked forward with his consort on his arm.

They greeted Zhenya’s parents first, the consort bowing to them, and then the King joined them as they began to move through the crowd. To Zhenya’s relief, he was carefully selecting who would get the honor of a formal introduction to keep his poor husband from having to endure hours of meeting everyone in attendance. The sergeant-at-arms murmured each person’s name as they were presented. Most bowed to the consort, some kissed his gloved hand. The consort kept his other hand tight on Zhenya’s elbow; he was definitely holding himself rigidly upright.

“He seems tense,” his father whispered to Zhenya as they crossed the room to meet the guest of honor.

“He’s trying not to vomit, Father. Give him a break.” Zhenya whispered quietly near his father’s ear, conscious of the embargo against his mate hearing him.

“Poor fellow. Having a hard time of it, is he?”

“I understand it comes and goes. But he’s had a bad afternoon.” As if on cue, the consort swayed a little, free hand going to his stomach while the other clamped down on Zhenya’s arm. Zhenya decided they’d had enough. He shot his father a look, slipped his arm around the consort’s waist and steered him to the door.

“Please excuse my son,” the King said. “His consort has been -- unwell.” Absolutely everyone in attendance understood what was meant by that. Zhenya heard sympathetic whispers; a few comments of “be well” and “take care of yourself” followed them out.

Fleury was waiting right outside, holding a trash can just in case. As soon as the door shut behind them, the consort sagged against Zhenya’s chest with a sigh of relief. Zhenya wrapped his arms around him, stroking his back. Fleury held out the trash can; the consort shook his head, took a deep breath and straightened up. He nodded quickly in a clear “I’m ok” gesture. Zhenya lifted his eyebrow. Are you sure? The consort pulled off his black leather gloves and squeezed one of Zhenya’s hands, then lifted his hand to stroke Zhenya’s cheek. Zhenya plucked his husband’s hand off his face and pressed a kiss to his palm. The consort seemed to sway toward him a little, lingering, then withdrew his hand and turned to his guards. They took their places at his side and headed back down the corridor. Fleury started to follow but Zhenya held him back. “Is he all right? Please tell me the truth.”

“He will be. Surely you know this is common.”

“I didn’t think it started this early, he’s not even a month along.”

“It often starts earlier for men. Something about body fat percentage, I’ve heard.”

“Please tell him that if he needs help or comfort at night, he always has my permission to enter my room. He needn’t knock.”

Fleury nodded, smiling a little. “I’ll tell him. Thank you, sir.” He hurried to catch up with his charge, leaving Zhenya standing alone in the hallway, feeling useless.

The door eased open behind him; he turned to see Judge Amarov emerge. “Your Honor, you should stay at your party, all is well,” Zhenya said.

Amarov flapped a hand and made a “pshaw” noise. “Bunch of suck-ups. I’ve been tongue-bathed enough for one night. How are you, Zhenyenka?”

He nodded. “All right. Anxious.”

“It’s hard the first time. My wife carried our first and had a terrible time. I carried our second and it was a breeze, for which she’s never forgiven me. But, I do still have the recipe for the ginger toddy I used to make for her, which I’d be happy to share.”

Zhenya smiled. “I just wish I could tell him how much I...well.”

“The embargo is a hardship. I confess I don’t understand why we put our leaders through it. I can’t imagine how you all do it.”

“We’re brought up with it. It seems normal to me. I just didn’t expect...certain things.”

“Nothing is ever what we expect. I know the rules you must obey, but between you and me, Zhenya? If you break them when you are alone with him, nobody will ever know.”

“I would be prepared for that, but I don’t wish to disrespect him. He values the embargo rules, and so must I.”

“Then the fact that you honor his commitment tells him everything that you wish you could say.”

---------

That night, Zhenya was lying in bed reading, not expecting company. Even if his nausea had abated, his consort was likely to be tired and not in the mood for sex.

So he was surprised when the door to the Royal Bedchamber opened, tentatively. He sat up, putting his book aside. The consort poked his veiled head around the door, looking unsure of himself. Zhenya beckoned him into his bedroom; he seemed relieved and entered, shutting the door behind him. He was fully veiled but also dressed in sleeping clothes, loose pants and a t-shirt. He just stood there for a moment, fidgeting from foot to foot and crossing his arms over his stomach.

Zhenya scooted over a little and flipped the bedclothes back, holding out a hand to invite his husband to join him. The consort’s posture relaxed and he walked over to the bed, slipping between the sheets. They just looked at each other for a moment; Zhenya thought about what he might want, what he might need, if he were the one in this precarious physical state. He slid down in the bed and held out one arm. He heard his consort exhale and he stretched out close to him at once, snuggling against his chest and tucking his face into Zhenya’s neck. Zhenya wrapped his arms around his consort, sighing at how well they fit together, how natural it felt just to hold him. He gently stroked his hand up and down the consort’s back over his drapings, and within just a few moments, he felt the man’s breathing deepen and knew that he was asleep.

This became their routine. Zhenya grew accustomed to seeing the door open and his consort joining him in bed. Soon, Zhenya began to think of the bedroom as as theirs rather than his -- over the days that followed, his consort was often to be found there, reading or bathing or simply relaxing. Then, they’d climb into bed together and curl into each other’s arms. Zhenya didn’t initiate sex and neither did his consort, who often seemed tired.

The second morning of this new normal, Zhenya woke up to the sound of his consort retching piteously in the bathroom. He almost got up to help him, but thought better of it -- he’d have had to lift his veils to vomit, and he’d be furious if Zhenya barged in. All he could do was sit and listen as he flushed the toilet, rinsed his mouth and came back into the bedroom. He responded to Zhenya’s are you all right eyebrow-raise with a waggle of his hand. All right. He returned to bed and came straight into Zhenya’s arms again. Zhenya slid his hand down to rest on his belly, their child growing ever stronger beneath his hand; the consort covered the hand with his own and sighed into Zhenya’s neck.

Next Chapter

[etirabys]

Today I read Different Seasons, Stephen King’s novella collection. The second is the best, and reminds me of the best parts of watching Breaking Bad. I rave about it below – I don’t spoil anything, but I describe the premise, which is spoilery for the ~2 enjoyable gut punches in the first ten pages. cw: holocaust

The setup of the novella is that

- There’s an eighty something year old man living in some nice small town in America; in WWII, he was a Nazi in charge of a concentration camp. He is an isolated and fearful alcoholic.

- A 13 year old boy, a sadist and psychopath, quite high functioning and normal-passing, who is a big Holocaust... fan? Yeah, that’s the only way to put it. He comes to knowledge of the Holocaust in some magazines belonging to a friend:

...he turned the pages, no longer in Foxy’s garage but caught somewhere crosswise in time, trying to cope with the idea that they had really done those things, that somebody had really done those things, and that somebody had let them do those things, and his head began to ache with a mixture of revulsion and excitement, and his eyes were hot and strained, but he read on, and from a column of print beneath a picture of tangled bodies at a place called Dachau, this figure jumped out at him:

6,000,000.

And he thought: Somebody goofed there, somebody added a zero or two, that’s twice as many people as there are in L.A.! But then, in another magazine (the cover of this one showed a woman chained to a wall while a guy in a Nazi uniform approached her with a poker in his hand and a grin on his face), he saw it again:

6,000,000.

His headache got worse. His mouth went dry.

And is tremendously excited by them – he reads a ton about the Holocaust. Enough that when he sees the local Nazi on a bus, he puts it together with a few photos in his scrapbook, and decides to...

Blackmail him. The deal is: I’ll keep quiet about the Nazi living in my town. In return, you tell me all about it.

And the rest of the story explodes from there. It’s all good, but the first twenty or so pages, especially, have some of the most densely – manic, febrile, unbelievable – writing I’ve read. I’ve never found King to be good with irony or humor, but the opening scene is the most wickedly funny thing I’ve read in a while. You’re a relatively high profile Nazi, you’ve been fleeing from one city to another since WWII, you settle down in this sleepy American town and leave your house once a week, you never talk to anyone... and one morning this preteen boy bikes up to your house, rings your bell, calls you by your real name, lists which concentration camps you were in charge of to get your attention when you try to shut the door on him, tells you he photographed you and fingerprinted you just to be sure he got the right person, and – says he gets off on your war crimes and wants to hear all about it.

“Yeah. It was the magazines that got me interested, but I figured a lot of what they said was just, you know, bullspit. So I went to the library and found out a lot more stuff. Some of it was even neater. At first the crummy librarian didn’t want me to look at any of it because it was in the adult section of the library, but I told her it was for school. If it’s for school they have to let you have it. She called my dad, though.” Todd’s eyes turned up scornfully. “Like she thought Dad didn’t know what I was doing, if you can dig that.”

“He did know?”

“Sure. My dad thinks kids should find out about life as soon as they can—the bad as well as the good. Then they’ll be ready for it. He says life is a tiger you have to grab by the tail, and if you don’t know the nature of the beast it will eat you up.”

“Mmmm,” Dussander said.

“My mom thinks the same way.”

“Mmmmm.” Dussander looked dazed, not quite sure where he was.

"Anyhow," Todd said, “the library stuff was real good. They must have had a hundred books with stuff in them about the Nazi concentration camps, just here in the Santo Donato library. A lot of people must like to read about that stuff. There weren’t as many pictures as in Foxy’s dad’s magazines, but the other stuff was real gooshy. Chairs with spikes sticking up through the seats. Pulling out gold teeth with pliers. Poison gas that came out of the showers.” Todd shook his head. “You guys just went overboard, you know that? You really did.”

“Gooshy,” Dussander said heavily.

“I really did do a research paper, and you know what I got on it? An A-plus. Of course I had to be careful. You have to write that stuff in a certain way. You got to be careful.”

“Do you?” Dussander asked. He took another cigarette with a hand that trembled.

“Oh yeah. All those library books, they read a certain way. Like the guys who wrote them got puking sick over what they were writing about.” Todd was frowning, wrestling with the thought, trying to bring it out. The fact that tone, as that word is applied to writing, wasn’t yet in his vocabulary, made it more difficult. “They all write like they lost a lot of sleep over it. How we’ve got to be careful so nothing like that ever happens again. I made my paper like that, and I guess the teacher gave me an A just cause I read the source material without losing my lunch.”

Once more, Todd smiled winningly. Dussander dragged heavily on his unfiltered Kool. The tip trembled slightly. As he feathered smoke out of his nostrils, he coughed an old man’s dank, hollow cough. “I can hardly believe this conversation is taking place,” he said.

And they strike up a unique and mutually warping and absolutely fascinating relationship that lasts for the next N years. It’s magnificent. If you want to read about a horrible child exercising an absurd amount of power over a horrible old man for years until they have a death lock on each other’s fates as the situation slowly, then rapidly, spirals out of control, pick this up.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Aaravos’s Design: All Things to All People (pt. 2)

So here’s my first half of this idea. This second half gets a lot more personal for me, so please bear with me if I get rambly or gooshy or something.

I’ve never in my life seen or read about a character that represents me. This morning, when my ideas finally crystallized enough for me to understand what I was feeling, I literally and actually cried. Is this how it feels to see someone like yourself on the screen? Feels good, man. Really good.

I know, I’m just guessing at a lot of Aaravos’s traits here. But this show has shown that it recognizes the need for representation, and I guess knowing that made a little door of possibility crack open in my mind when I wasn’t looking.

And this sparkly bastard walked right through it.

In the first half of this post, I talked about how I believe Aaravos is True Neutral, based on his place in the story.

I’m True Neutral. I don’t see many of me, ever. We don’t do the quick, heroic actiony stuff. We’re the slow burn in the story.

Being distanced from humanity, seeing all at once, Aaravos seems more interested in psychological games and long, complex plans than physical relationships. He only touches that mirror once, and he never flirts. (Well, not with Viren. We know he’s drawn to make us go nuts.) So maybe he’s ace.

I am ace. I almost never see any ace characters anywhere. Sex sells, and life is a harbor crammed with ships of all shapes and sizes. The only time I ever ship anything is if the ship itself, and I kid you not, balances something out. I True Neutral ship things. 

But Aaravos is very sweet in Viren’s ear. He listens to Viren’s problems. He soothes Viren when he’s upset. This could be a stretch, but perhaps it is easier for Aaravos to be charming because he genuinely cares about Viren (just not in a “I respect you too much to manipulate you” sort of way). Maybe Aaravos, from his powerful perspective on high, genuinely likes everyone, and everything. Even Elarion, the accidental spill of unloved magic that he reached out and saved. Why would he do that? It could be a True Neutral impulse. But maybe he genuinely loved Elarion, as much as he genuinely loves Viren. Aaravos could be a panromantic.

I am a panromantic. An oblivious panromantic, because I’ve been obsessed with this show for the past two weeks straight and this is only occurring to me now. A crying panromantic, because I already loved this idealized purple goober, and now I feel like I’m standing in front of his mirror, and he might actually be my own reflection.

Aaravos can have my faith, like Elarion’s. 

And my sword. 

And my bow. 

And my axe. 

Even if none of these traits are actually written into his character, this is the first time in my life that I’ve ever seen anyone on the screen who might possibly be me.

I feel like I’m gonna explode across the sky. 

When you never see anyone that looks or acts like you, you feel trapped in a mirror, alone, looking out on a world that operates just fine without you.  

I don’t feel alone anymore.

@dragonprinceofficial I surrender. You win. Aaravos broke me open, and I’m spilling out all my liquid stars.

[douxreviews]

Quantum Leap - Season One Review

"Oh, boy."

Quantum Leap began as a mid-season replacement in early 1989, ran for five seasons (1989-1993), and made a television star out of Scott Bakula. While it was running, it was one of my two favorite shows (the other was Star Trek: The Next Generation). There wasn't much good science fiction on television back then. Actually, there wasn't much sci-fi on television at all, unlike today's sci-fi-rich television environment.

What happens

A brilliant scientist named Sam Beckett (Scott Bakula) invents time travel. Pressured to produce results or lose funding, he tries it on himself — and wakes up in 1956 in someone else's body. With the help of his Quantum Leap Project partner Al (Dean Stockwell) who visits Sam in the form of a neurological hologram, Sam discovers that he must correct whatever it was that "went wrong" in the original timeline before he can leap out again. It is theorized by Ziggy, the artificial intelligence back at the Project, that if Sam can't make the appropriate correction in each leap, he'll be stuck in that person's body forever.

What works

There is so much to love about Quantum Leap. Fortunately, the two best things about the show are the main characters, Sam and Al, and the actors who played them. I've always thought that Sam Beckett is a dream role for an actor, and Scott Bakula was more than up to the challenge of playing a new character in a new situation every week. Okay, not exactly a new character, but he still had to play Sam's interpretation of that character, which added some acting layers while still preserving the integrity of Sam himself as a character.

Yes, Sam Beckett is just too perfect. A genius with six doctorates, his massive intellect made him capable of stepping into nearly anyone's life. What helped make Sam less perfect was that the Quantum Leap process made "swiss cheese" out of his memory. His partial amnesia also helped disconnect him from his old life, making it easier to immerse himself in the lives of the people he leaped into, an excellent plot device.

And then there is Al, who is also brilliant and multi-talented, and whatever Sam can't do while living someone else's life, like fly a plane or speak Italian, Al can step in and help. Al is also the king of double entendres and references to scoring with women, and under other circumstances, I would have found such a character repulsive. But Dean Stockwell is just so lovable in this part. He made it easy to see the humanity and goodness inside Al, right from the start. And Bakula and Stockwell played so well off each other. Even though Sam and Al were totally different people, they were believable as close friends.

The basic premise of the series is great, too; it's a fascinating framework for a time travel series. The only real limitation is that Sam couldn't travel to the future or to a time earlier than 1953. Setting episodes in the fifties, sixties or seventies made Quantum Leap all about the nostalgia, though. Gender roles, period music, historical events woven into the story like the east coast blackout and the streaking fad in the early seventies, you name it.

And then there were the clothes. I have little interest in fashion, but I love the costumes on this show. Scott Bakula looked so comfortable and natural, so right in those period outfits. Sometimes they were yummy; occasionally they were hilarious. What I enjoyed just as much was Al showing up in bizarre futuristic outfits in outrageous colors, which fortunately never became fashionable in real life. Like Bakula with the period clothes, Dean Stockwell simply made that wardrobe work. Al is a colorful character, and his wardrobe matches his personality.

What doesn't work

There isn't much I don't like about Quantum Leap. Maybe it would have been interesting if they hadn't been limited to Sam's lifespan, and the United States (and yes, brief spoiler, they do get around that occasionally in future episodes). And yes, it tends toward the procedural, since most of the episodes are Leaps of the Week, but hey, it was the nineties.

One thing did leap :) out at me during this rewatch — the show's tendency to lecture. In this abbreviated first season, we got "The Color of Truth," the first time that Sam leaped into the body of someone who wasn't a white guy like himself. Instead of just being a person of color with an important life experience that Sam had to figure out and change, "The Color of Truth" is a sixty-minute lecture on the evils of racial segregation in 1955 Alabama. Not that there's anything wrong with the topic: it was a huge and important part of the recent past, and the episode was both well-intentioned and well done. But preachiness can be a turnoff, and this wasn't the only time it happened.

Another thing I didn't like was that every episode ended in a cliffhanger as Sam leaped into his next challenge, in what always appeared to be dire circumstances. Yes, I get it, cliffhangers help bring the audience back. But I would have been a lot happier if they had simply ended each episode with Sam leaping out, who knows where.

The music replacement controversy

When Quantum Leap was initially released on DVD way back when, Universal decided not to buy the rights to a number of the songs featured on the series simply because it was prohibitively expensive. Changing the music changed the series, though, and many fans were livid about it. The worst offenders were the season two episodes "M.I.A." and "Good Morning, Peoria." (I'll talk more about why fans were upset in my review of season two.)

After some research, I can report that Amazon and Netflix fixed this serious problem; the original music is intact. (I'm writing this review in December 2016, and I live in the U.S.) Unfortunately, Netflix decided to stop carrying Quantum Leap as of January 1, 2017, when I hadn't quite finished my rewatch, so I had to move to Hulu. And unfortunately, Hulu does not feature the original music. I have no idea what is going on with the music in the DVD sets. If you plan to buy Quantum Leap on DVD, you might want to find out about the music replacement situation before purchasing, if it matters to you.

Important episodes

1.1/1.2 "Genesis (September 13, 1956)": This is a decent two-part pilot. The brave test pilots and their long suffering wives waiting at home kept reminding me of the 1983 movie The Right Stuff, which might have been their intention. (In fact, many Quantum Leap episodes remind me of specific movies.) Maybe it shouldn't have been a two-parter, though, because honestly, while Sam's "wife" was doing the laundry, I got a little bored.

This pilot does mention the possibility that Sam's leaping is being directed by God. You'd think God would have the power to fix things Herself without having to use Sam, but okay. Maybe God employs other people like Sam, too.

1.6 "Double Identity (November 8, 1965)": Best episode of the season, and an obvious tribute to The Godfather. The wedding scene where Sam had to sing and Al gave Sam the Italian lyrics to "Volare" was funny, and kept getting funnier as Sam channeled his inner lounge lizard and really got into it. In fact, it went on so long that you'd think it would stop being funny, but it didn't.

(This might be a good time to mention that Scott Bakula has a beautiful, professional singing voice that they often featured in the series.)

Later, during a life and death situation and wearing hair clips and shaving cream, Sam had to converse in Al-prompted Italian. Bakula spoke the lines Sam didn't understand as if he were reciting poetry. And the ending with the thousand watt hair dryer in Buffalo causing the east coast blackout of 1965 was practically perfect.

1.9 "Play It Again, Seymour (April 14, 1953)": A very Sam Spade sort of episode with bits of Casablanca, with Sam in the body of a private eye who looked like Bogart investigating the murder of his partner. Of course, there was a dame — his partner's slinky wife, Alison (Claudia Christian, one of my favorites from Babylon 5). There was also a poorly written novel called Dead Men Don't Die, a dropper named Klapper, and every hardboiled detective cliche you can imagine.

Much of "Play It Again, Seymour" was filmed in the Bradbury Building, a Los Angeles landmark that was also used as a major location in my favorite science fiction movie, Blade Runner. When I was living in L.A., I went to see the building in person. It's gorgeous.

Sam was born in August 1953, and this final leap of the season was set in April 1953. I can only assume the leap range was defined by Sam's conception, not his birth?

Bits and pieces:

-- In season one, Sam leaps into and must become: a test pilot, a professor of literature, a boxer, a veterinarian, a chauffeur, a drag-racing teenager, and a private eye.

-- There are many references to three characters we don't get to meet in this first season: Ziggy, the artificial intelligence that gives Al projections on what Sam is supposed to change; Gooshie, a little guy with bad breath who also works on the Project; and Al's current girlfriend Tina. (Okay, oops, I'm wrong. According to IMDb, Tina is the woman with the flashing earrings that Al picked up in his car.)

-- The person that Sam replaces turns up in the imaging chamber, and Sam only knows how others see him by looking in a mirror. The synchronized mirror scenes are okay, although the motions were never choreographed well enough for me to suspend belief. Maybe those scenes should have been done more simply.

-- In the pilot, Sam wanted desperately to contact his late father but couldn't remember his own last name. Later in the season, in a lovely scene, Sam did speak with his father on the phone but of course, didn't tell him who he was.

-- It is established in season one that animals can see Al, that Al had been raised in an orphanage, had participated in protests during the civil rights movement, and has been married five times.

-- Famous people: Sam gives teen Buddy Holly the lyrics to "Peggy Sue," and shows a tiny Michael Jackson how to moon walk.

-- Notable actors: Teri Hatcher as Sam's first love in "Star-Crossed," Mark Margolis from Breaking Bad in "Double Identity," and Claudia Christian in "Play it Again, Seymour."

-- The saga sell is fun and so are the opening credits and theme music. But come on. A little "caca"? That's childish. I'm glad they didn't retain that.

-- Scott Bakula has a streak of white in his hair. It's not artificial; he has said during interviews that he's had it since childhood.

-- We're told that you cannot fix your own life. Why?

Season one is all "leap of the week" episodes, but it's a short first season and there's nothing wrong with that. By the end, we still don't know much about Sam, Al, or the Quantum Leap Project, so there's a lot of story left to tell.

On to season two!

Billie Doux loves good television and spends way too much time writing about it.

[doctorshufflepuff]

15 Questions 15 Mutuals

Tagged by @commander-corvus, thanks friend!!

1. are you named after anyone?

Nope

2. when was the last time you cried?

Misty eyed / choked up? Tonight, like an hour ago. "Real" crying? When I told my parents I didn't actually graduate this semester

3. do you have/want kids?

Nope! I mean, I reserve Future Shuffle's right to change her mind on that, but as of right now it's not something I want out of life

4. do you use sarcasm a lot?

Not really, no

5. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

//TODO

(No clue. Not awake enough for this. Maybe whether they'd give a good hug? But not always?)

6. what’s your eye color?

Brown

7. scary movie or happy ending?

Happy ending. All. The. Way. I'm not super into scary stuff, but I'm always down for a gooshy, cheesy, cliche ending

8. any special talents?

I've been vaguely interested in calligraphy for a long while, so while my lettering might not be even I can definitely make it Extra

9. where were you born?

Virginia, U.S.

10. what are your hobbies?

Reading, specifically reading (and recently, writing) fanfic, skiing + snowboarding, swing dancing, lil bit of piano

11. do you have any pets?

Nope, but dammit I want a cat

12. what sports do you play/have you played?

Haven't really had time/money for skiing or boarding recently, but hey, tis the season. I also was on swim team on and off growing up, did a tiny bit of both karate and soccer, and a dash of kindergarten gymnastics

13. how tall are you?

5' 1" on a good day

14. favorite subject in school?

English-type classes where you read stuff then talk about it. I've been doing mostly cosci for a while, and then I took Writing for the Web last semester and it was back to the class discussion model, which kind of sucks as a format but can actually get into interesting topics - I didn't realize I missed doing that kind of analysis

15. dream job?

Hmm. Ski bum would be a good time, but maybe not permanently. Or a sign language interpreter specializing in tech

I tag (if you want)

@paint-on-my-tongue @supernerdgirl3 @auniverseforgotten @sariahs-song @ozdizz @velocifoxy @serendipitydope @i-am-me-i-am-sam @thehappiestpumpkin @just-a-slytherin-with-salt @hydrawolfy @100floorpocky @inalandofmythandtimeofmagic @coffeecloudy

And @ask-40-fingered-fish, I tag you and all your cuttlefish

[aceofintuition]

ok so last night in the stream i talked a little bit about all the shitty file names that i give my batim art. In turn, at *least* 3 different people asked for a comprehensive list. SO HERE YOU GO. THIS IS EVERY INTERESTING FILE NAME FROM MY BATIM FOLDER IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER.

30 frickin years maybe

a BATIM time

a challenger approaches

a continuing trend

a real angel

acevoiceIfuckedup

Alice is so lovely

and so the sacrificer becomes the sacrificed

and then one day the lights came back on

are you SURE this was the plan

bendibe

bendy and the color machine

bendy approved drew violence

Bendy harasses his devotee

bernat

bernham

berntruck

bertles

bertrain

bookbag bendy

boris the doggo

charcoal but not really

comment i dare you

constructive criticism feat. sammy

decapitation is fine

does not like him

dokidoki

dont ask that henry

dont be rude snowy come talk to the nice people

drew 2.0

dumb shit

edgar is an angry driver

edgarno

eldritch but well dressed

eldritch ink

Empty, Empty, Empty

every creative person

evilwonka

excuse me

fingpixarlamp

from ink to charcoal

GF tries unsuccessfully to cheer him up by talking abt how terrible it all is

good to know im swell

gooshy buddy

grumpy CEO competitor does not enjoy himself at Didneyworl

gtfo lawrence

hallefkinlujah

HE FOUND ME

he tries okay

he was ahead of his time

he was before our time

heckin miracles

HELLO YOURE GONNA DIE SOMEDAY

HELLO

Henrrreeeeee

Henry knows hes in a horror game

Henry’s protege, maybe

henrysaysfuck

he’s a tea guy

he’s just so pretty

he’s sympathetic

hes the nerd kid getting thrown into the locker

hey bendy

HEY PAL

hey you dropped this

how ungrateful

i just Want alice to be happy also gay

i need it for stuff

Icarus Always Loses His Wings

if anyone could pull it off

im trying to COMPOSE here

ink and paper weren’t enough

Ink Rancher

intimidation tactics

its her job

it’s only a paper moon

its RUDE, henry

Jo(e)y

joey joey joey

joey no

JOEYMFDREW

joy no

lost angel

master of eyerolls

Mistakes Have Been Made

moonshoes

music man

mybeautifulcreationwhatisit

next time, sweetheart

nobody messes with norman

not a gooshy buddy

not as dumb as you think

not to be fucked with

not usually this calm

oh i made myself sad

old friend best pal

only if you push him

overreacting

please do the damn dishes carmie

power cells

profsnow

quintessentialJoey

rain

samjams 2.0

sammy 2.0

Sammy and a Searcher

Sammy and tuning fork

Sammy is a wuss okay

sammy piano

sammy pls do not

smol

SNAPSNAPMFER

social skills

soft pastel norman

sometimes he visits

spoilers, its not fine

step into my ink machine

sweet dreams

synesthesia

taking out the trash

Technicolor Ink Prophet

Thanks sammy

that’s a stupid question

that’s what papa says

the devil himself

the expression i m making now that im switching my icon

the god of drews

The Hierophant

the LIGHT of his LIFE

The Projectionist

the queen on her throne

they have a a lot in common

too powerful

toobig tophat

typewriter

u have fucked p now

unexpected fluff

voice of reason

w hy

who thought putting these colors together woulda taste good

why do you talk so much

why is there so much fog down here

why is this harder the second time around

why r u such a nerd sammy

wtf yall

y eah

yer an ink monster Sammy Lawrence

yet another joey

you havent done the dishes since henry left

[littlewalken]

Nov 20

It feels like if I don’t make myself do the unstuck something something today won’t get any better.

It’s been rumored Steven Universe will return one way or another on December 17 with Legs From Here to Homeworld for the two of you who haven’t already seen it. Then there will be more. Good. 

If any of y’all Jeff riders are ever in a position to have him read something please have him go White Diamond’s lines. As for this latest game of yours... 

That Weyoun pic was done with Derwent Graphitint pencils. They’re tinted water soluble graphite pencils, they come in a 6 pack if you aren’t sure, any of the purple tones are good for Vorta. Hell, get the full 24 because there’s great Cardassian and My Dear Doctor tones in their too. The Artgraf earth tones are better suited for Klingons. Artists who are strictly Gashir should investigate the full set of Derwent Soft drawing pencils. 

If you pr0n art it, Derwent makes a pencil set for it :p

And the more Grinch commercials forced down my throat the less I want to see of this. Where in the Chuck Jones original did it need to be redone? Is someone going to think A Charlie Brown Christmas isn’t ‘edgy’ enough and have to be redone too? Did two crappy remakes of Carrie not convince you? 

You are either have neurological challenges that you are a hero for dealing with every day or an absolute monster if you don’t like A Charlie Brown Christmas. 

As Gift Season creeps closer every time we set out to a box store, or any store not for food, we say it’s the last time until we need to pay bills. If someone hadn’t lost their bathtub plug... 

I got myself the Dog Pile and Cat Stax puzzle games. The Traffic/Parking Lot what ever it’s called is around here somewhere. My brain injury finds puzzles challenging and peaceful at the same time. I can play Sherlock but other logic puzzles, especially Minesweeper like ones, are a real struggle. I am at a total loss on those You Tube logic challenge things. 

Jigsaw puzzles are nice but I like big zillion piece ones. The only one I really have/like is that Empress Eugenie painting by Winterhalter. 

There’s some costume pr0n for ya, the colors should be brighter in the aniline dye sense. If y’all need something to copy for art class. Rule 63 that shit up. Really take a look at a bigger and more clear version. 

It’s one of those things where I saw a reproduction in a thrift shop, it was gone when I went back to buy it, ended up with a Try N Save jewelry box with a bad print on it, consulted the art history teacher, and lucked out finding it was a jigsaw puzzle. 

Did some more writing, getting it out for the sake of getting it out phase, nothing to share. Thinking about arting. Reading the Pet Shop Boys Literally book. Today’s goals would be similar. I do want to try the Spectrum Noir watercolor pencils in the grey paper book. Hoping for some energy to do more physical stuff. Been using up a lot of spoons just surviving. 

Costwold Collectables has sent out my Facepool ‘Andy Bell’ head so pics whn it’s here. He’s already got a body that will be able to wear high heels. Haven’t had luck with finding something to make his assless chaps out of yet. 

The teenaged cat has reached the level of spoiled as we’re purposefully buying her gooshies.