#my ask box has cob webs

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Sooooo I've cleaned out my inbox LOL

Questions, prompts?

Please send them in!

[penskecar]

here r some pics of the other stuff on the vr46 hat :D

THANK YOU !!!!!!!!

[meli-writes]

Coffee? Vodka. - Ch. 01

Someone silken is looking into Cam-5a, foot tapping, waiting to be buzzed in. She doesn’t know but Torch can’t bring themselves to look back at her in the feed. “Now… what do I have you for today, ma Chérie?”

“Cut the shit,” Buck snarls; means the fake accent. “I don’t have time.”

The flirting too — if Torch could even stop. Their eyes flick to Cam-5b, hidden between never-emptied dumpsters; a low-angle shot, gratuitous even. Torch would smirk at the accusation, insisting the leering upskirt was a mere side-effect of redundant security.

“Rush order?” Torch asks, door unlocked. She’s in the red heels — it makes Torch choke, yank the illegal, under-river Ottawa-Gatineau cable and forfeit a 10000QBD Soko stake. Sep-cred is fake, whatever she wants has to be better. “You know I gotta get somin’ extra.”

Buck pours down the staircase — voice first, “It’s cheap as dirt, Tor.” Then, too-small dress and rainbow-optic hair extensions. She quivers a bit, “I just don’t have… access. Got it?”

“‘Course, Babe,” Torch soothes. “I’m here for you.”

When Buck — eye-rolled — sees Torch, the bulletproof slide retracted, hot-rod biker-helmet on the counter. Torch continues, “What trouble can I get you into? Reccs are free.”

“Uh-huh? For another pretty thing I can’t ever afford,” Buck retorts — not without cred, she thinks, hands rubbing on scandalous, bare freckles and lasered tattoo-remains.

“No toys this time,” she admits. “It’s— estradiol.”

Torch rocks back-and-forth in thought, cowboy boots knocking a mystery box stuffed with experimental, variously-inhumane grenades — compliments to clients Torch wouldn’t mind not turning into repeat business. It feels familiar, some ex must’ve said it, but— Tap-tap.

The bounced, red heel puts a shiver in Torch — their lowers, mostly.

“So— that’s like some kinda poison?”

Whines, known-not-the-pleasant-kind, spill into the cold basement air before Torch can even finish; Buck sees her own breath, imagines they keep doing this on purpose, just to make her tits stand on end.

“Estradiol Cypionate:

40 grams-per-litre, 10 millilitre vial. 3-to-5-percent QTL.

Two of ’em,” she begins. Goes on to describe needle gauges, lengths — “latter should be 16 millimetres” — and syringes in Torch-stunned quantities; Buck’s an artisanal bitch, tools are to be repaired — and Torch happens to know how — not replaced.

Let alone have a hundred, two hundred spares.

When Torch doesn’t start to type it down she looms over, impatient. Her painted nails press on the flame-patterned helm till the polystyrene crunches. There’s an obedient clack as she continues — thin smile on her face, “220 alcohol swabs — actually, no I can get those.”

“Progesterone:

Suppository formulation, 700 of ‘em. 50:50’d between 100 and 200 milligram,

or make it 150,” she finishes, a curt nod when Torch looks up — dipping to the heels, the red ones, for a moment — before their face then locks into a bemused smirk.

“And that suppository goes—”

“Up— My— Ass,” she rebuffs, half-demonstrating in a rude gesture. Her arms cross over each other, retinas she’s digi-tinted in pulsing red finishing their roll into a distant, cob-webbed corner. “You wanna do some follow-up then get it delivered — stat!”

“So it’s for you, ya?” Torch returns, cautiously soft-faced.

“Yes — Tor. It’s for…” Buck starts, before catching Torch’s sweet inquisition too late. She lets her arms fall, thumb-link dropped to where the silk dress bunches at her hips. “Family Doc cut me off, but he could go fuck himself anyway. No, I don’t wanna— I’m not gonna tell you why and now I’m gonna run out in a week and…”

Torch offers a hand, rested on a loose stack of reboxed, tampered bio-pads, and she takes it; still not looking, her voice lowers to a squeak, “It’s— y’know, my medicine.”

“I gotchu, Babe,” Torch says. Her eyes squeeze shut, patterned off the calming pressure on her hand, blind to the smile that’s crept onto their face. “But you know — rush costs extra.”

It takes a moment, and—

Her lips sour; cheeks tremble, pushed up to her nose. Ten and a dozen steps back, hand falling limp and out-of-reach, till she’s lean-to on a crumbling, red-brick pillar.

Buck sucks in a frigid breath.

“No Tor, it doesn’t,” she says, directed at the floor. “I’ll schmooze you for what, a mag-pull grappling hook? Some floorplan, god-knows how you got it and I-don’t-want-to. Those— fucking— reusable shock-mines. Not this.”

She looks up, stare like a ballistic knife into Torch.

“I’m not the one choosing to put myself at risk here.”

Torch’s lip-danced lecherousness feels wretched now. They can’t think — or admit, perhaps — what it was before, other than miscalculated. “Alright… alright,” they say, words pressed around the lump in their throat. “Sorry Babe. You know how I am.”

“I wish I did,” Buck says, like cold, unstirred coffee.

Torch lets a few chuckles splinter out, “Now, how’s that supposed to make me feel?”

“Motivated, one should hope,” she replies. Her heels, Torch can’t look without tasting the dust-covered crimson sheen, point to the stairs as she turns — an inobvious, soon-dashed threat. “I don’t care what it costs, but you don’t need it upfront. It’s cheap, I promise.”

Torch doesn’t indicate much — she prompts, gentle, “Okay?”

There’s some cable-tangled boot tousling as they rattle to attention then relax the semi-startled posture, “If it’s your meds, I ain’t scamming you.”

She raises a brow, crosses her leg so the heels are pointing right at them, holding herself otherwise tortuously unreadable, “And that means you are sometimes?”

When she hears some winced, guttering moan in return she snickers and runs a palm up her cheek, following the blooming smile.

“Only when you ain’t being sharp,” Torch brims, with a restoked glow. “I know you’ll forgive me. Some clients make me money, it’s such a precious few that make me happy too.”

The cheek turns lily-white in her claws, when she drags them off her face it pulls her lips apart, spilling out airy frustration. She doesn’t see it this time, Torch has turned the heaters on at some point. It’d be better received if there was less eagerness in their gaze.

She takes another step, then stops.

One of Torch’s words is pursed on her lips, till it falls out, soundless. Now she’s said all she had to, the shadows slip off; shows the lines under her eyes. Torch thinks they might have to vault the table to catch her, that’ll she fall asleep where she stands — in those heels.

She got what she wanted. Those blood-dressed slippers signal an unmet request.

“Let me run the order,” Torch course-corrects. “Coffee?”

“Vodka.”

---

(Masterpost) / (Next)

originally written on cohost 27/05/2024, in response to Make Up A Criminals' prompt:

Thief who's not picking up what you're putting down

for additional context/history, the small reference to quebec separatists is a nod to Caffeinated Otter's own cyberpunk stories which occasionally reference them. example.

[bonnie-barstow-of-flag]

The Not So Lonesome Knight Part 17:

Parts 1 X, 2 X , 3 X , 4 X, 5 X , 6 X , 7 X, 8 X, 9 X 10 X, 11 X , 12 X, 13 X ,14 X, 15 X  16 X 

The two FLAG agents aren’t given much of an opportunity to react. Michael finds himself making an agonizing split-second decision. Does he race across the room to retrieve his gun in the off-chance that he could neutralize a few of the uninvited interlopers or does he pull Bonnie as far from the looming danger as possible?

Adrenaline and instinct kick in simultaneously. His protective hands urge Bonnie out of bed and towards the bathroom. Internally, he prays that his body can fashion enough of a shield until he could barricade her behind the door. It is not a full-blown plan but it was the best he could formulate under the circumstances.

Bonnie blindly ambles in Michael’s wake, having been partially paralyzed by the cold terror swirling through her entire circulatory system. Her trembling fingers curl tightly around his hand as she cowers in his shadow. “Think these are the same guys who broke into our last room and then stole my clothes?”

“I don’t know, Bons, but I’m pretty sure we’re about to find out. I’m thinkin’ there is a very high likelihood these goons are one and the same.” Michael replies stiffly, through his tightly clenched teeth. An air of control attempts to filter through the panic in his azure orbs.

Reflecting on the earlier incident when she had been scared enough to look, Bonnie makes a terrible realization. “There is no back way out of this room. Is there?”

He could feel the heavy pang of his heart against the insides of his rib-cage. “No.” He grumbles, despising the very sound of his own reply. That was a problem Michael hoped he wouldn’t have to manufacture an answer for. However, now that Bonnie mentioned it, it sent his mind reeling. His lips purse firmly together. While he didn’t mind putting himself in precarious positions, he never wanted to do so with Bonnie. Tonight, it would seem that he’d have no choice. They were trapped! Offering Bonnie a shred of hope, Michael adds, “but we’re going to be fine. We have the upper hand. We have Kitt. Remember?”

How could she have ever forgotten about Kitt? There was hope after all!!!

While they move, Michael pulls the com-link close to his mouth. “Kitt? Where are ya, Buddy? We’re gonna need ya.” He beckons, the tension in his chord laying thicker than peanut butter. He continued edging himself in front of Bonnie as the Colombians close in upon them like a pack of ravenous wolves.

Instead of receiving the typical answer, the line of communication fizzles into an unexpected and eerie static. Not even the swishing of Kitt’s continual moving scanners offers a response.

Bonnie designed all of Kitt’s functions far better than airlines did black-boxes!! Kitt doesn’t just unexpectedly fail!!!

Before the horror could fully register a rough, heavily accented voice, barks for them to cease their retreat with the promise of firing upon them should they fail to comply.

Their movements towards the bathroom halts in response. Bonnie’s uncertain gaze flashes up to read Michael’s reaction to the threats.

Michael finds himself weighing the options. While conceding to the enemy was never a reasonable nor wonderful solution, he can’t risk further endangering Bonnie’s life or any of the other innocent motel patrons. They are heavily outnumbered two to eleven, outgunned, and surrounded. From his experience as a cop, Knight quickly assesses that any attempts to put up a fight would be futile and could potentially end in bloodshed. Especially, if he couldn’t rely on immediate assistance from Kitt. After a moment’s deliberation, Michael decides to make a proposition. “I’ll tell ya what. I’ll come with you willingly if ya promise to leave her behind and that you won’t harm her.”

Bemused, the hardened Colombian enforcer’s brow rose an inch. His harsh lips upturn just enough to emit a laugh before giving a gruff reply, “No.” Taking steps towards Michael and Bonnie he adds, “you see, we no negotiate with you. He wants you both, we give him you both.” The stony cold expression never wavered even as he snaps his fingers to command his host of foot-soldiers. Within seconds, Bonnie and Michael are surrounded by seven of the eleven men. That left four guards, two on each side of the door.

Obviously, making a deal with the goons wasn’t on the tables. Michael’s shoulders slump in defeat. Pulling his nose into a scrunch and delivering a snarl, Knight retorts, “just who is this leader anyways?” He pauses before sarcastically spitting, “the king of the Looney-bin?”

The head enforcer’s eyes narrow.

Michael’s wisecrack draws a brief hint of a smile to Bonnie’s face. If she wasn’t so scared, she might have allowed herself to laugh freely. Somehow she believed that any display of amusement would not be well-received. Especially, when she and Michael both have the barrels of high-powered guns nuzzled uncomfortably into their backs.

“Senior Orlando Calderone and his mistress send their greetings.” The enforcer’s gravelly voice finally conveys.

The two FLAG agents find their countenances exuding maximum confusion. The name revealed certainly didn’t ring a bell. Who was he? Who the hell was his mistress? What did they want? To the best of their combined knowledge, the Foundation never delved into the illicit activities of anyone owning that name. However, the mistress could be any woman at all, even Grace Stevens. In a way, it felt as though, they were still getting nowhere fast.

Although, the last name Calderone did give off a faint spark of recognition somewhere in the shadowy recesses of Michael Long’s mind. But the memories that belonged to Knight’s previous identity were buried, heavily dusted over and mangled in the cob-webs of time. He says nothing to that effect, worried that any minuscule sliver of remembrance might result in the placement of a bullet in his head or heart. Or worse, in Bonnie’s.

Bonnie, having found herself with a distinct distaste for the enigmas known as Calderone and his mistress, vehemently retorts, “yeah. Well, you can tell them just where to shove those greetings!”

Unaffected by the woman’s pointed words, the enforcer instructs his soldiers to do a pat-down on both the agents.

“I’ll save you the trouble, my guns over there,” Michael remarks. He just wants to get this over with as fast and painlessly as possible. One of the goons immediately confiscates the weapon. Much to Knight’s annoyance, hands still inspect every inch of him.

Bonnie lets out a low growl at the invasive manhandling as one goon took a little longer on her than he should have. Before she could insist that he take his hands off of her, Michael strenuously interjected on her behalf. “Come on, Man! You and I both know she hasn’t got a weapon under there. Leave her alone.” He shrugs off the hands that were on him and threatens to grab the no-good pervert with the intention of flinging him across the room. It is clear that the Colombian had provoked his ire.

“It’s okay, Michael. He’s done.” Bonnie shoots the Colombian foot-soldier a glance that practically dares him to defy her. There is something familiar about him. She has seen him before and somewhat recently too! But where? Her eyes squint as she attempts to recollect where. At the first convenience, she might ask Michael if he knows. That is, if they survived the miserable ordeal long enough. 

((this is the first time I’m publishing a chapter without the following being written already. But I figure I’ve made everyone wait long enough.))

[jjakhosh]

Chapter 3

Word count: 797

You stand behind Sohye as she unlocks her apartment. Compared to the apartment building you lived in, Sohye’s building is far more neat and spacious. It also has great security and a friendly neighborhood, away from the dangers and troubles of the bustling city. You hear the faint click of the door being unlocked and Sohye tells you to come in. She opens the door for you and timidly, you walk in.

Her apartment is definitely different from yours. While yours consisted of second hand furniture, spider webs on the corner, dirty dishes and cockroaches on the sink, smell of alcohol and cigarettes in the air, empty bottles of beer and empty boxes of cigarettes—Sohye’s apartment is clean and purified. She really has a completely different life than you. Coming from a well-off family, it still wonders you how humble and kind Sohye is as well as how the two of you managed to become best of friends.

“This way, Y/N. Come on.” Sohye tells you and you follow him towards a hall.

“Sohye, I really can’t thank you enough for doing this. I should’ve been the one to do it but I’m too scared to.” You say, lowering your head.

Sohye stops in front of a door. “You’re my best friend, Y/N, and I’ll alwas help you.” She says, lifting your head by your chin with her finger. She is smilng at you and you can’t help but to smile back. She truly is one of your treasures. “This is your room. Make yourself at home, okay? Because this is home from no on. I have to make some calls go on inside.”

You nod and take your suit case from her and step inside the room. Sohye shuts the door behind you and you look at your new room in awe. Its definitely an upgrade from your room back at your old apartment with Jaesuk. There aren’t holes in the wall, no cob webs and more importantly, no memories of your now past life. The walls are painted in white with the thresholds painted in gray. There is a bed in the middle of the room, a desk across from the bed with a mirror on it. On one side of the room is a closet and a door beside it which you assume to be the bathroom and on the other side is a sliding room leading out to the balcony which overlooks the city of Seoul.

You walk towards the bed and set your suit cases down before sitting on the soft cushion. You feel the soft duvet with your hand and realized how long it had been since you slept on a comfortable bed like this one. A simple thing like this realization causes you to tear up—you’re free, you’re finally free and it feels so damn good.

Sohye then enters the room, clutching her phone with a smile on her face. “I called dad and asked for few body guards.”

You furrow your eye brows. “You didn’t have to, Sohye. I know how much you hate asking your dad for help.”

Sohye shrugs her shoulders and crosses her arms over her chest. “My pride doesn’t have a place in this situation and besides we both need it. Jaesuk is a man who we both know is capable of hurting others. Its better to take caution.”

Your swells with gratitude. “I really don’t know how to thank you, Sohye.”

“Don’t mention it, Y/N. Take a rest. You had a pretty long day.” She says.

“Sohye, I think we’re both fired from the restaurant by now.” You blurt out with a frown.

“I think so too so I asked dad another favor,” Sohye says and you tilt your head as a sign for her to continue. “You know how he’s friends with the owner of the Hyatt Hotel? I asked him to get us jobs there.”

Your jaw drops. “Oh my god, Sohye. I don’t know what to say.”

Sohye chuckles and walks towards you. She sits down beside you and wraps an arm around you. “During the times where people were just using me because of my name and my background, you were the only one who saw pass that and actually treated me like everyone else and for that, I didn’t become shut off from the rest of the world and had a friend who had my back. I’m forever thankful for that, Y/N, so please consider this as a pay back for being true to me from the very start and tomorrow marks your new life. The two of us—we’ll start a new life.”

You hug her because words aren’t enough to express your gratitude to the pink haired woman beside you.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

If anyone would like to send Adamsapple asks to my inbox I'm open lol.

[themanicmagician]

I Ain’t Afraid of No Ghosts - Swapbros Fluff

Summary: After watching a horror movie, Papyrus is too spooked to sleep.

Commission for @sapphire-sphinx​! Inspired by this artwork.

After a long, tough week of rigorous guard training, even someone as magnificent as Sans was ready to unwind. As the older brother, he was able to put his foot down and insist Papyrus spend the night with him instead of with Muffet and her patrons. Papyrus gave in easily, and the next week he even brought up another movie himself, one Undyne had lent him. And thus, Friday movie nights have become something of a tradition in their small household.

They rotate who picks the film every week. Sans favors classic action movies, himself, and keeps a pen and notepad on him to record any particularly inspiring speeches from the cinema heroes. Papyrus usually selects something from the tentacle-free variation of animes that Undyne recommends. Sans doesn’t understand what they both see in the cartoons, but his love for his brother translates to tolerance for his odd tastes.

Tonight is Sans’ turn to pick, and today he’s chosen a film he found on one of their latest trips to the dump. The plastic case has taken quite the beating, the cover picture faded; he can only make out the word “Blockbuster”. Must be a human chain store.

Despite the state of the box, the DVD inside is barely smudged. After a quick polish with his scarf, Sans feeds the disc into the player, then goes over to turn off the lights. The light shining in through the front window is growing dim; the simulated day cycle is winding down. They won’t be halfway through the movie before darkness falls, giving them a near-perfect cinema experience.

As the movie starts up, playing the opening credits, Sans takes a seat next to Papyrus on the couch. His brother is already cozy on his side of the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, hugging an enormous bowl of caramel corn.

“So what’s this film about, bro?” Papyrus asks.

“Not sure,” Sans leans over and snags a few pieces of caramel corn for himself. “The disc was blank, and the writing on the case was near-illegible.”

“Guess that makes it a suspense film then.”

The film is simply titled The Mansion at the End of the Street, frustratingly vague. However, the tone soon becomes clear, as a group of adolescent humans break into an abandoned mansion. A figure behind curtains on the second floor watches them enter. The curtains blow to the side, and the shadow vanishes.

“Uh, Sans.” He glances away from the screen to look over at his brother. “Don’t you want to watch something else? This movie’s pretty bad.”

Papyrus sounds nonchalant, but Sans notes that he’s gripping the popcorn bowl rather tightly. A devilish grin flits across Sans’ face, before it’s replaced with his normal smile.

“No, that’s part of the fun! Alphys says she and Undyne watch bad movies all the time on purpose. They’re so bad that they’re good. Unless…” Sans’ voice drops low. “You’re scared?”

Papyrus flinches, caught, but schools his expression quickly. “O-Of course not. Just thought you’d get bored.”

“Well I, for one, am certainly unafraid of any poltergeists. And aren’t you friends with a ghost?”

One of the teenagers searches a cob-web covered room. The ghost appears behind her, and lets out an unearthly shriek that causes Papyrus to yelp, jolting back against the couch. The knee-jerk motion causes some of the caramel corn to slosh out of the bowl, onto both Sans and the couch.

“Happy doesn’t look anything like that.” Papyrus says, weakly.

Stars, he’s really spooked by this silly thing. Sans supposes it’s not too surprising—as a child, his little brother would often run to his room in the night and crawl into his bed. Sans would wipe away the tears around his eye sockets as he babbled on about black and white smiling shadows in the closet. His wildly imaginative mind stokes the fire of his fear.

The ghost has disappeared again. The girl’s friends discover her limp body, crying out in alarm. Papyrus grabs a fistful of caramel corn, and shovels it in his mouth.

Sans nudges him with his foot after his third handful.

“Stop chewing so loudly. I can barely hear the movie!”

Papyrus swallows down his current mouthful. He stares down at the bowl so he can avoid looking at the screen.

“Why do they always split up?” Sans wonders, watching Papyrus out of the corner of his eye. He’s trying to take the edge off of Papyrus’ nerves by making casual conversation. “It’s tactically foolish. They’re weaker divided when going up against an unknown force. You could say that, separated, they don’t stand a ghost of a chance.”

That works—a small nyeh of laughter slips out of Papyrus.

The movie continues on in typical horror fashion. The humans are isolated and picked off one by one, all the while learning more and more about the woman’s story before she became a vengeful spirit. Sans, acclimated to months of sneak attacks from Alphys, barely flinches at each new jump scare. Papyrus, on the other hand, is the picturesque horror movie viewer, cringing away from the screen at every scream and sharp blare of music.

Papyrus lets out an audible sigh of relief as the movie ends. Sans is struck by the impish urge to startle him, but restrains himself.

“Well, that was certainly different!” Sans concludes, as he shuts off the television and DVD player, plunging them into near darkness.

Papyrus is quick to find his phone within the folds of his hoodie, and turns on its flashlight.

Taking pity on him, Sans tugs him up by his sleeve. “Come on, we’ll go upstairs together.”

Normally Papyrus would protest that he’s too old to be led around, but now he follows Sans obediently up the steps.

He jumps at a creaking noise, his bones shivering.

“D-Did you hear that?”

“Papy, that was your own foot. That step always creaks, remember?”

Papyrus looks down.

“Oh.”

It’s worse than Sans thought, if he’s still jumpy and paranoid after the film is over. Sans feels a flash of guilt—maybe he shouldn’t have made Papyrus watch such a thing.

Sans flicks the light on as they enter Papyrus’ room. His face scrunches up at the state of it. Their small dog is snoozing on the bare mattress. The floor is littered with stray articles of clothing, and far too many empty candy wrappers.

“Ugh, Papy.”

His brother shrugs, unrepentant.

The ball of sheets in wedged against the bed’s headboard is too sticky with spilt honey and syrups, so Sans fetches a clean set from the linen closet in the hallway.

Papyrus eyes him as he lifts the dog off the bed before putting on the clean sheets. “You, uh, don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh hush.” Sans tucks the final sheet corner beneath the mattress. “Clearly you are shaken up, but don’t worry! The Magnificent Sans will protect you from any ghost, imagined or otherwise.”

Papyrus’ skull flushes with embarrassment. It’s clear he’s ashamed of his fear, but Sans intends to show him that it’s okay to be afraid.

Sans goes over to Papyrus’ closet. While most of his day clothes cover the floor, he still has a set of pajamas hung up. Sans tugs them off the hangar and throws them back over to Papyrus. He returns back to the closet, searching. In addition to his clothes, there are some old boxes packed away in here, mementoes of childhood.

“What’re you looking for?” Papyrus asks, once he’s changed into a loose tank top and shorts. “’Cause the only skeleton in my closet right now is you.”

“You’ll see.” Sans shoos him back over to the bed.

After a moment more, he finds what he was looking for. The first, a nightlight in the shape of a car, which he plugs in to a nearby wall socket. It casts a pleasant orange glow over the room.

He returns to Papyrus with his second prize, pulling up a chair at his bedside. Papyrus is curled under one layer of blankets, and the dog has deigned to snuggle up to his side.

“A storybook?” Papyrus asks, incredulous.

“You loved Fluffy Bunny when you were a kid.” Sans pouts.

“Yeah, exactly, as a kid.”

“Come on, Papy,” Sans cajoles him, opening up the book to the first page. “This always put you right to sleep before. So it’s either this, or you’ll stay up all night thinking about that ghost.”

“…Fine.” Papyrus mutters, giving in.

“Great!” Sans chirps. “Now let’s get started…”

He hasn’t read Papyrus this story in years, but as he reads aloud he slips seamlessly back into the old routine, giving the animals different voices as they appear and search for their missing fluffy friend. Papyrus is humoring him at first, but Sans is only halfway through the story when his eye lights become foggy with sleep. Two page turns later, Papyrus is snoring lightly along with the dog.

Sans smiles fondly. Still works like a charm. He concludes the story softly, before setting the book to the side. Papyrus looks content; he’s not being accosted by ghosts in his dreams.

Sans tugs the covers up some around his brother, before planting a quick skeleton kiss on his forehead.

“Goodnight, Papy.”

[interstellactic-studios]

Hey, since your tumblr says interstellactic studios, Does it mean you are more than one person? A whole group? An unknown persona? A very talented, yet ignored (I think u are, cuz ur amazing) or just an average soul on tumblr. Sorry for all these questions.

Please don't apologize my ask box has been full of nothing but Cob webs and an empty void until yesterday and today, I'm wondering where y'all came from with actually askin me stuff! XD even if they aren't actual questions and are just nice compliments and encouragement ^w^I'm one person :3 I call myself Interstellactic Studios because "Interstellactic Studio" doesn't sound right without the word "the" being infront of it ._. I dunno I just thought it would sound intimidating or dumb like "I am THE INTERSTELLACTIC STUDIO" and that sounds weird and unprofessional ._. I mean I'm not professional I'm a teenage nerd who likes drawing and thought it would be a good idea to post it online one day :PPlus I plan to be called this basically forever ._. If I become large enough some day online or irl, maybe I'll actually have my own small thing where I let my friends in on this if they're looking for something to do with their life to make money ((which I plan to do in the future when I have adult problems like dues and bills and rent money etcetera))But presently I am one person in Interstellactic Studios, However, I am represented by persona, Wicke. Wicke is as close to real life me as a persona can get ._. She's just cartoon me with some pretty lit 3D glasses on. ((Sorry for long answers if u don't know this, I type a lot of crap for everything ._. And I mean literally everything))

[glopratchet]

origin-of-astrly-wylde

the earth which must be hit at a very percise angle and within a certain range of speed cult for the past few years in an attempt to find the ancient temple of their god, but they have not returned They had no idea that the temple was destroyed long before It still makes him angry, but its not as bad now and it almost feels good The monks says that means he is changing for the better and it would be too much work to separate them He stares at the grey earth and its black trees and laughs quietly to himself as he fiddles with the black buttons on his beeper Suddenly he is startled by a message from himself and skips the audio feed to shut the f UP SHUT THE F UP but it feels so good Errrrrrrrrrrrrr snnnniiiff! he whispers, staring at the flickscreen The message has been sent from his old self and has landed about 15 minutes ago it reads "They cannot be trusted Listen to me He re-reads the message several times and considers what to do should i listen to an old message? "i am a new person now He is gone they whisper as blood drips down his cheeks and lips "stop bothering me, He fumbles around with the buttons until it flickers off "Anyway, what is it that you want us to where is this? through the surface of his boiling mind "It doesn't matter now, " it says to itself The buttons are all in the wrong place and there are random files flying around everywhere He reads one before its deleted back home He asks himself if he could even escape this suffering "can i leave reality? his surroundings who are they? "My state is suffering, " he thinks to himself, over and over His face is drooping Inside and out If it could just think clearly If only it could live within the confines of a PC, then it would not even need to think that his face disappears from the screen and is replaced by a black box with zeros and ones inside it and the sound is murderous to his ears "I AM THE GOD OF YOUR WORLD, DO NOT FIGHT ME AND WE CAN SHARE THIS REALITY, and he is too weak to continue It could just destroy everything and he wouldn't even do anything about it ryl astounding lusting longing for gigantic 7/11 black holes Sal 9000 skynet incescible tentacle demons pleasuring you from every orafice destroy long live the king chain succubi nightmares , don't turn off brain last call for alcoholpsha bluish purple haze rising inquisitions ofsmoke thought a perfect ending to this awful place punk bitches on all fours bleeding out theirasses drink my pain away mangosta haze dreams ofsexual glory free sheet yaoi and fanfiction oaths psychotropic humesingularity quicksand intelligible mass contaminating golden showers between shinigamis loins with acidcitric andremember to breath upward rapid niggerslappers melting forever more exploding to fill everyvessel with sealings of your seminal lemonjelly roasting on an open fire alongside sib bloated carcasses demonically summoning endless waves of emetophoorus dribble into the inedible the course of human kind forever and always She gives herself smashing rio's uplifting trash wrenches the heart pounding piece of upepshy'ed pie rides again! vegetating undead corpses bring the beatings to randomnoobs' beating the pimping jerking the farmer's daughter Astryl necrovile demonic books to dreggy nothingness cloud computing sending algorithms into the infinitely small that could itself be infinity You smile You are one rottendenying violent vegetablesan absolute madhouse of murkysmall and unsound minds debating "The Great Mathematican" for my unsound mind the worldagainst my abstract existence blamerational minds lacking in these hellish waters of crazinesspop your bubble of reality Now your bu rocracy's blasting rap music Your vision fades into a softer white light as you're lifted out of your broken reality and back towards the ivory towers of home pacts of hell consumption defenestrating sanctity of word and binding contract to a promise is everything It really was great witnessing this reality devoured by the in warm shallow waters"Were you almost attacked by a septic sushi model? primordial infernal energies towards a purple mountain majesty tranquility in perfect vibrating harmony The mind is so powerful it permits impossibilities such as these Great work fumes hiding the BigDipper Off-roading in your pajamas? Bring a coat frequencies for Hell's own Television Networks everywherefoe/food's heart beats and breath hastens Playing chess with your subconcious? about in freeky fairy land Slowly but surely the every dust bunny, cob-web, and dust-speck wage war upon your poor mind your forgotten blissful dreams You feel a little warmer your life's debris being unable to forget one's past transgressions is the equivilant of carrying a boulder on your soul Ant hills in your pants? corruption from the soul nothing compared to the gruelling task of endless ectobiology work The World is a canvas, and we are merely painters the world of your own subconscious making a better reality for yourself within your head, one that you create Well forgotten be then dreams of glory the heavens deep into the abyss Read the first one I wrote it last night using this program, still needs a bit of work though ; This comment has been in the midst of crumbling beauty Great minds think alike, i've taken a crack at this generator too want to compare results? in chaos my arms are made of ground up shooting stars Wow! This generator's results make super cool lyrics! fluffy kitty heavenward for padding planets Your knowledge of science is about superstrings good, and you learned that from a postage stamp the Big Bang's lingering temperature The sound of one hand clapping? Acousticons hold concerts in your mind the fluttering in your stomach to the butterflies on your feet You can turn any color you psych yourself out to be superconductor sound You could compose an opera and it would sound operatic You tap tap your foot impatiently waiting for the Big Tune with gravity through the sea-like void Your thoughts begin to evolve bubbles of ideas drifting past too fast breathe in the soundwaves step into the flow of music connect with the universal vibrations of harmony Something new is coming, something Crescendo x infinity You flow in the rhythm as the crescendo peaks and pours into eternity x infinity incoming signal from infinite galactic, universal civilization calling adjusting internal receivers to optimume nirv- uh, reception of universal beauty Your concert awaits isn't that qt3 14? Rising exponentially, faster than falling harmonics You dance in the sound waves The air around you is flashing and clapping reaching critical mass comingsoon? Crescendo

[ecotone99]

[SF] End of Days Part 2.

Please leave feedback!!! We make it to willstown. Barely. The two day drive turned into a five day walk. After about a day of driving the truck gave out. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway way. Gridlock. Abandoned Cars for miles and miles. So we walk and walk and walk. Our food and supplies dwindled down to nothing. We haven’t in almost two days. To make matters worse Lucia and Jr are starting to get sick . The rain and the weather Change has everyone rundown.

As we approach the gates a sign reads “trespassers will be executed”

That’s comforting - Maria

We haven’t eaten In almost two days, we need to rest. Only two days till the ship reaches Bayonne it will all be over soon - jr

Everyone stay close and follow my lead - me

Heavily armed guards, line the top walls.

What’s your business here? - says a guard at the gate.

We are here to trade- I reply.

Let me see what you got boy. - guard.

I open up the back pack and show him the pills.

We have two more bags just like this - me

Alright, looks good. He says and takes the back pack out of my hand

What are you doing ? I question and go to grab it back

No funny business now . Consider this an entrance fee . I Wouldn’t want to have to hurt a pretty face like hers- he says as he stares at Maria

The antibiotics. The most important bag. I need to get this bag back.

I’m reaching down to my hip to grab my pistol before I can. Maria grabs my hand

“It’s not worth it “ she whispers in my Ear

The guard whistles and the gate opens

It’s just like a shanty town. Run down buildings. Some bigger buildings toward the back. Looks like an old apartment building. There’s one sign . It reads Willstown

Behind the sign is a massive bulletin board of pictures with the word MISSING written in red. It’s pictures of Men, women, and children. From all walks of life. The end of times doesn’t discriminate. We were all effected the same way.

Mommy I’m tired - Lucia says as we walk through the compound.

Here get on my shoulders - I say as I bend down

I can’t help but notice a massive make shift stage in the middle of the compound separating it into two sides.

Maybe they host a nightly talent show - JR says

We all laugh.

A tall man dressed in a black trench coat appears on the stage.

Attention ladies and gentlemen . Boys and girls would you please Make your way to the stage - he says into a mega phone

I hand lucia to JR

you take Lucia and Maria to apartment building in the back I’m gonna check this out with Josh. - me

Alright captain - Jr says sarcastically.

As you know we don’t have many rules here but we do have two! - the man continues to say.

And what are they ? - he questions the crowd

No stealing and no killing! They reply.

Josh and I look at each other and people begin to pour in to the front of the stage.

Well today we found a thief! He smirks

The crowd boos

Two men dressed in military fatigues drag a man on to the stage.

Now this man was already caught stealing and was punished - the man says

Fortunately I’m a merciful man. - man

the guard pulls up his sleeve and his left hand is gone.

The crowd begins to Cheer loudly

But today not so much - the man

Another man comes to the stage and hands the man a massive Scythe.

It clicks in my minds. Holy shit it’s the grim reaper.

I think that’s Gary - josh says.

I thought it couldn’t get worse but it did,

The man who gave him the scythe rolls out a pillory... a freaking pillory.

The other two men strap the thief in.

Please no please I’m sorry. I’ll never do it again.

The crowd begins to boo and throw things on to the stage.

It’s a mob mentality. It’s sickening . These people are almost like savages.

The reaper approaches the thief.

Please I’ll do anyt - thief

In one fluid motion he slices the mans head clean off his body.

ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!!! He yells into the mega phone as loud as he can.

The crowd absolutely loses it. They are going nuts.

Joshes face is white. Whiter then the purest snow.

I shake him

Snap out of it man- I say

He just stares at me.

I grab his arm as we make our way out of the crowd

We keep walking and we can still hear them in the distance.

We reach the run down building and see JR, Maria and Lucia , sitting on a old couch with the springs sticking out.

I got one room follow me - Jr says

We gather out stuff from the front and walk down the hall.

What did it cost? I asked . Three bottles of Vicodin for the night the lady drives a hard bargain - Jr

Jesus - I rub my forehead .

I know but we need this, look at everyone. We are barely holding it together - Jr

I know I know . Good job.- I say as we walk up to our room .

We open the door to a medium sized room. It’s dusty with cob webs everywhere. It’s illuminated by one lightbulb in the center room. Two cots, a table, and a broken couch.

Well it’s certainly not the presidential suite- JR says

And um what’s wrong with josh ?- Jr

Josh is standing in the door way with a blank expression on his face

Here drink this - Maria says as she give Josh a bottle of water.

He’s in shock- I say

What did you see out there? - asks Ricky .

The grim reaper- josh finally speaks .

Here lay down - Maria puts him on the couch with a blanket.

Lucia go sit on the bed while we talk - Maria says.

This place isn’t safe. The reaper just executed a guy in front of everyone. - me

We can’t just leave we have no food and barley any water left - Maria

And just like that . We hear a roar of thunder and it begins to pour.

Well we definitely aren’t leaving now - Jr says

Let’s work on the food and water situation, JR stay here with Lucia and josh. Maria and I will go out and look for Something to eat and what ever you do don’t open this door until we’re back . I need you here , Josh can’t watch Lucia by himself - me

I got it - Jr says as he takes out the AK and begins to load it

As we leave the apartment and go out into the Compound, people are standing outside trying to collect rain water. They have buckets, cups, some are just cupping there hands together to collect as much rain as possible.

We continue to walk.

Is everything all right guapo ? - Maria looks at me and knows there’s something wrong.

I want to tell her everything and come clean about my illness but there’s a lump in my throat and I can’t seem to do it. Im scared. I don’t want her to judge me, or leave me, or think I can’t protect her and Lucia. I’m becoming more and more unstable as the days past . The depression and anxiety combined with no sleep and the delay in the medication is taking a toll on me. But I need to keep it together. Just a little longer. Once we make it to safety everything will change for the better.

I’m fine baby I’m just tired - I say as I kiss her on the forehead. It hurts to lie to someone you care about. But I can’t let her know the truth

Let’s go in here - I say as I change the subject

There’s basically just random things all over the place on make shift counters and tables . But I do spot a toy doll. It’s perfect for Lucia.

I grab the doll and go up to the man at the front . I take 3 pills out of the bottle before I get up there I don’t want him to know how much I have on me.

I’ll give you three of these for the doll.- I say

Them brand name pills you got ? He questions

Yes brand name -I reply

Well you got your self a deal. Pleasure doing business with you . He says and shakes me hand.

I give him the three pills and he immediately puts them in his mouth, walks out of the store and looks straight up for a few seconds then swallows the pills with the rain water.

Well that’s innovate to say the least - maria says to me as we walk out.

Desperate times call for desperate measures I guess - I reply

I spot a store with canned goods. We walk in.

As we look through the cans most of the stuff is expired but we do find a few hidden gems . Canned peaches , beans , carrots , and last but not least canned Tuna. I hate fish but then again, got to get my calories in.

Ooooo look! - Maria says as she grabs two boxes of chocolate chip cookies off a shelf

And there only expired by a month - she laughs

Could be worse - I say as I look for more cans.

I gather everything up and approach a woman at the front of the store.

I’ll give you two bottles of pain pills for all the supplies -me

She looks at me and then looks at the supplies

No thank you I got enough pain pills, what else you got - the lady asks

How bout these ? I pull out a bottle of uppers. We don’t have much to play with considering 1/3 of are stash was taking at the gate .

She takes the bottle from me. Reads the label.

Fine, now get out of here.

Maria puts everything into her back pack And we leave.

The rain is starting to pick up so me and Maria run back to the apartment building.

I’ve had a enough of that - Maria says as she puts he hair in a pony tail

I know hopefully it stops before tomorrow or it’s gonna be a long walk - me

We walk down the hall to our room and the doors open.

JR I told you to keep the door shut.. - I say as I walk in only to see The reaper standing in the middle of our room. Jr was sitting on the bed holding Lucy and josh is no where to be found.

Before I can even think about it my hand is on my pistol.

I wouldn’t do that if I were you - the reaper smiles

Two men with shotguns come in the room and stand behind us.

I’m here to thank you for the donation you made to our compound. Antibiotics are very hard to find these days - the reaper says as he walks around the room.

My daughter is sick and we need those pills - Maria pleads

Listen I’ll give you this whole bag of pain killers for half of the antibiotics- I say to the reaper

The reaper looks at Lucia and turns around to face us.

Well I appreciate your offer but I have to politely decline. I am a fair man though. I will give you a chance to win them back. - he stares at me.

What do you mean ? - I question .

Come to the pit at sundown. It’s on the left side of the compound. You’ll know it when you see it. - the reaper gives his guards a nod and they all leave.

Lucia are you okay ! Maria yells as she runs to Jr to take her.

I’m okay mommy - She says as she hugs Maria

You were very brave Lucia. I have a present for you - I say as I give her the doll.

Thank you Mr Michael - she says with a smile on her face

Let’s lay down Lucia - Maria says as she takes her to the bed.

What happened ? I ask JR.

Josh woke up and said he needed some air, he got up and left . I locked the door behind him. 20 minutes later . Boom! The doors fly’s open and the reaper is here. Then 5 minutes later you guys arrived - Jr explained .

What the hell - I say as I struggle for words.

We need to leave now - Jr looks at me

We need those antibiotics, you and Lucia are sick - I say.

I know I know- Jr replies .

Lucia is very warm and she’s still coughing - Maria says as she walks over.

I’ll go to the pit, i let Josh leave it’s on me - Jr responds

No . Your too sick. We can’t afford anything to happen to you. We are almost to safety. I’ll take care of it . I say as I look at Maria and then JR .

I can see the concern on there faces .

I’ll be back . I need some time alone. - I say as I walk out of the room and into the hall.

As I walk outside I see a store front that resembles a bar so I walk in

My breathing becomes very short, my chest is tight, I feel like I’m gonna pass out . Shit another panic attack. They are becoming more and more frequent.

I sit on a stool and count to 10 to try to get my heart rate back to normal.

What are you having ? - the bartender asks me

The strongest thing you got - I respond

My heart is still beating fast Bottoms up - he says and pours me a shot

Something to calm the nerves. I say to myself . I take the shot and immediately I can’t breath , my lungs are on fire

What is that! I say as I struggle to breath.

That’s moonshine, my secret recipe - He laughs

On the house - he says as he passes me a soda

My mouth and lungs are still on fire but the good thing is my anxiety is gone. I chug the soda and the pain subsides.

So what is the pit I hear everyone taking about - I ask the bartender.

That’s what keeps everyone sane - another customer says and sits at the bar .

It’s the reapers source of entertainment - the bartender says

What do you mean ? - I ask

Well you see there isn’t much to do around here. No tv, no internet, no movies . But there is still one activity that’s entertained humans for centuries. Fighting - the bar tender responds.

Every other night at sundown, everyone shows up to the fighting pit. 4 people volunteer to fight the reapers champion. And If you win, you get anything you want in the entire compound. It’s his sick form of entertainment. It gives the citizens something to look forward too. Without something like that this place would implode. Like that old saying an idle Mind is the devils workshop. - the customer says

Has anyone ever won - I ask

Ha! I’ve been here for about two months and I’ve seen one person win- the customer laughs

Blood sport. It keeps everyone entertained - says the bartender.

If your thinking about entering that fight , your gonna be in a world of trouble. We don’t exactly have the best medical care and they don’t treat the losers too kindly. - the bartender warns.

I think someone died two days ago - the customer chimes in.

Thanks for that- I say as I leave a few bullets on the bar for the bartender.

As I leave the store I hear the bartender say “ good luck”

I walk back to the apartment building and the rain begins to lighten up

Well that’s a plus- I say to my self

I open the door to the room.

No sign of Josh. Maria is sleeping on the second bed holding Lucia. She’s wheezing heavy. I feel her forehead and she’s on fire. JR Is sitting in a chair facing the door he looks sickly.

you don’t have to do this - Jr says to me.

We are a family . We take care of each other- I respond to him.

I’m sorry - Jr says as his eyes fill with tears.

Don’t wake them. I’ll be back. - I say as I look outside the window and see the sun is almost down.

I leave the room in silence and walk outside.

A herd of people are walking and talking so I follow them to the other side of the compound.

I reach the pit.

The pit is about the size of a boxing ring . It’s all dirt surrounded by four waist high wood walls. It’s illuminated by two big lights.

The crowd brings to settle in all Round the ring . I move my way to the front .

The reaper is in the center with his mega phone .

“ Are you ready” he yells into the megaphone .

the crowd screams and beings to chant CRUSHER CRUSHER CRUSHER.

Someone taps my shoulder I turn around and it’s one of the reapers goons .

Come with me - he says.

I follow him out of the crowd and we walk around to the right side of the ring. It’s blocked off to the rest of the citizens.

I catch my first glimpse of crusher.

Oh shit . Hes huge. Looks like he’s about 6’5 and at least 300 pounds. He’s shadow boxing in his corner.

Your number four. When it’s your turn I’ll bring you out - the goon says to me.

Our first contestant is Dave from Virginia- the reaper Announces

The boos ensue.

If you win you get your choice of anything In the whole Compound. What do you want Dave? The reaper asks.

Dave. Looks like he’s in his mid thirties not a big guy but not a small guy.

I want Unlimited beer!!! DAve yells and pumps his fists and jumps around.

Jesus. I say to myself.

The crowd begins to cheer

Settle down everyone. Thank you Dave. Make your way over to the blue corner. It’s almost show time.- the reaper says

Now out of the red corner, weighing at at whopping 350 pounds, standing at 6ft 6 inches. With a record of 250 wins and 3 losses I present Yuri The Crusher kholechk. - the reaper screams

The crusher joga the ring to the roar of the crowd.

Tonight the only rule is No rules. We’re fighting prison style. Boys and girls . Let’s fight. - he yells.

A bell rings and the fight begins.

They meet in the center of the dirt ring. People from the crowd begin to throw objects in the ring, Dave swings at the crusher and hits him right in the face . The crusher looks at him and laughs. Crusher cocks back and plants a left hook on Dave and he goes down immediately.

The crowd begins to laugh and cheer.

Crusher walks around the ring and picks up a bottle of beer that was thrown into the ring .

Dave begins to get back up and the crusher just kicks him back on to the ground .

Crusher takes the beer opens it and chugs it.

The crowd goes wild, they are screaming and banging on the wood corners of the ring .

The crusher takes the empty bottle. Smashes it on the wood and it’s shatters In half . Dave finally musters the strength to get up and charge forward to the crusher .The crusher turns around at the last second, takes the broken bottle and Jams it into Dave’s stomach. Dave goes down with a screech . We are watching him bleed out to his death .

The crowd cheers CRUSHER CRUSHER CRUSHER.

The reaper enters the ring, grabs The Crushers hand raises it in the air and yells WINNER BY UNANIMOUS MURDER THE CRUSHER.

Yuri bows and the crowd continues to cheer.

Let’s take a 5 minute break! Don’t forget to place your bets!!!. The reaper says into the megaphone.

I sit in silence. It’s scary knowing that I’m most likely going to die. But In a way I’m almost not scared. At least I know how and when it’s going to happen. And it makes me feel noble knowing that i am doing this for the people I love.

Look who decided to show up - the reaper says to me with a smirk

Looks like another perfect day for the crusher - he laughs and walks away.

Fight two begins and ends almost the same as the first. Another body dragged out of the ring. This time a snapped snack.

Fight three takes an interesting turn. The crusher looks tired, the guy he’s fighting now is running around the ring to tire him out. But it only worked for so long . The crusher gets his third win.

And our final victim of th..... Excuse me folks . I mean fighter of the night is Mike from Florida. - the reaper announces

The crowd boos

Showtime.

I’m trying to keep my anxiety under control. I’m focusing on my Breaths and trying not to hyper ventilate .

I step into the ring and go to my corner. Broken bottles, glass, and blood cover the dirt. The crowd begins to cheer as the crusher goes to his corner

Let’s fight - the reaper yells into the megA phone

The bell rings and immediately adrenaline courses through my veins. My flight or fight has kicked in. I have tunnel vision and everything is in slow motion.

The crusher sprints at me, my reflexes take Over. My body won’t allow me to die that easily. I move to the other side of the ring. He changes directions and comes at me again. I’m trapped in a Corner. He swings , I duck and counter with a right to the face. It doesn’t phase him. I see some daylight and slip out the of corner. Now were in the center of the ring . I throw a right hook and he grabs my fist .

Fuck, I’m in trouble . He Takes my arm and bends it backward.

It snaps. But I don’t feel it, I only hear it. I’m in shock. Then a brutal headbutt . I feel my nose explode. I’m on my back. The crusher is standing over me . I look to the right And try to move my arm to protect myself. Nothing. I’m pretty sure my arm isn’t supposed to bend that way. I’m trying to blink the blood out of my eyes as I struggle to breath from the blood that drips in to the back of my throat from my nose.

This is it. The crusher gets on top of me. The worst possible scenario. He raises his fist and I feel my face breaking after each punch connects. I can barely hear the crowd cheering anymore. another punch . I’m starting to fade in and out of consciousness. I look to my left I see Maria crying and screaming as JR holds her back. I don’t know if this is real or my brain is short circuiting from the trauma . I reach my hand hoping she pulls me out from underneath the crusher. Another punch and the crowd screams.

I am a god - the crusher yells to the sky

As my left hand drops to the ground I feel something . It’s sharp it must be shard of glass. I grab it. I look up and the has both of his fists clenched together as he raises them over his head. The kill shot. But before he finishes me I see jugular is exposed. With the rest of my strength and will I throw my left arm across my body with my shard of glass in my hand I go in for the kill.

Silence .

He grabs his throat and chokes for air. The blood pours out onto me. He keels over. My body isn’t being crushed anymore I can breath again. I roll back over on to my back. There is another figure standing over me. I can’t really see who it is but My only guess is the reaper coming to finish the job.

You did it guapo- Maria whispers into my ear. As her and Jr pick me up from the dirt .

I look into the crowd and they are stunned. They are still silent. In shock.

Put your weight on us - JR Says as him and Maria walk me out of the ring I see the blood stained sand and the crushers dead body.

I just killed a man. I took another mans life. I’ve been afraid of death my whole life and I just became what I’ve fears the most . Death.

I’m awake now. Im back in the room. I don’t remember much about the walk back. My left eye is swollen shut but out of my right eye I can see Maria and Jr staring at me.

Whoa whoa whoa Relax take it easy - JR Says as I try to get up.

Water- I try to say but my mouth is so dry.

Maria brings me a bottle and helps me drink.

My organs are thankful for that .

Bravo Bravo Bravo. The reaper says as he walks in the room

I am very impressed with that performance. He smiles

Please can we have the Medicine now - Maria pleads with him.

Of course - he says and goes to hand her The backpack.

But I think I have something else you would be more interested in- he says and pulls the bag back.

I struggle to sit up to look at reaper

He nods to one of his men. They drag josh into the room and throw him on the floor his mouth duct taped shut and hands cuffed behind his back. I can see the fear in his eyes.

We found your friend sneaking around the prison cells trying to break out the other prisoners and you see I can’t have a rebellion on my hands . So I have a new proposal . Your friend or the bag of medicine your choice - he says and looks directly into my eyes.

And I forgot to mention an act of treason is met by death. - the reaper laughs

Josh begins to whimper and cry. I see the tears roll down his face

I look at the horror in Maria and JRs face. Both their jaws are dropped.

I look at Lucia . Laying in the bed next to me . I can hear her wheezing and laboring to breath.

I have to make this decision. No one else will be able to live with the guilt. I promised Maria when we first met that I will take care of Lucia no matter what.

I’ll take the medicine - I say and Look right back in to the reapers eyes.

He looks shocked but hands the bag over to JR. He gives his men a nod and they pick josh up. They drag him out of the room as he’s cries and flails.

Before he leaves the reaper turns around and says You are one sick son of a bitch - then shuts the door behind him .

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[hucc]

HUCC v Occasional Casuals Saturday 9th June 2018 Hamstead Heath

Match report by Himalayan Correspondent Nick Taylor

Curry goat cricket anyone?

Curry goat cricket: West Indian term for a friendly, low stakes game in which the food to be consumed off field, is more important than the result on it. A curry goat match is the Windies' equivalent to the English Beer match

The occasional casuals as I had been warned felt that cricket was an excuse to have a ‘few’ beers whilst playing a friendly game of cricket with their pals. Notorious for their kit bags being the orange Sainsbury’s variety with the contents of a six pack and a box. The last two encounters had been close affairs a tie and a victory, the sun was out we were playing in civilisation not rural England it was going to be fun, even if we had to resort to potentially approaching it as if were time for curried goat.

Spurred by the three victories in 2017 and a frustrating draw first up in 2018, enthusiasm was high.  Ol coming back from a year out called an early arrival for some apparently needed practice to blow of the cob webs. The outcome was seven Umprires arriving at least 30 mins before the agreed time. Unheard of. It also transpired that Matt and Gary organised had a private tuition session during the week. Not that practice had ever done us any good!?!

The squad was a mix of old and new, we had the welcome return of the official original Umpire, indeed Rob is squad No.1. The team looked a strong bowling outfit this week Ol, Manny, Jack, Simon, the new kid on the block Harry, the old kid that was a chip off the old block, Gary Aubin, we were looking solid with the ball.

Matt presented Anthony with the match ball, ball was a generous description, it must have been stitched my an arthritic blind man, square more than egg shape. We offered up a 30 over ball as the next best thing. 

Anthony won the toss and as is skip’s common custom we opted to bat first.  The skipper of the casuals would have also opted to field first as they celebrated the fact that they would rather have a second innings that leant itself to boozing rather that fielding. It appeared their skipper had lubricated himself already. Anthony and Dave open, 35 overs a piece, we are off.

Manny and I officiated until drinks, it was a steady start letting their most economical and dangerous bowler, who ended with 7 overs no wickets for 14, do his thing. After 10 overs we 35 without loss. By drinks Anthony had clubbed a few to the boundary and indeed brought up another well deserved 50 just before the break, by which point without loss we were 85 after 17. 

Drinks in this game did mean drinks and an extended break saw the Casuals open a variety of beverages, the World Cup branded Kronenberg was a favourite. They are however seasoned professionals and a few cold ones may indeed help, much like a game of pool always need a few before the shots come off. With the Hampstead Heath buzz from the cafe and the sun beaming down Harry and I decided to follow suit, by the looks of things were weren’t getting a bat today and a Corona doesnt really count. Does it?

Anthony was ably abetted by Dave who in his own mould saw off the good and played the bad, another opening umpire innings eventually culminating in his second highest total for the umps. We need an archivist adjudication.

Anthony was looking, and by his own admission feeling good and as the Parliament Hill spectators settled through the gates and onto the boundary (in the pub at the end of the game they turned out to be the self appointed HUCC Ultras) skip holed out in the deep for 64. One follows two as is so oft the case and Dave was bowled for 28. Well played. We were 100 odd for 2.

Simon got a good one bowled and Rob came in to shore up an end whilst Jack came in on a mission to connect with what ever he threw his bat at. Rob slightly unfortunate to test the arm of one of their more able fielders who hadn’t touched a drop by the look of it, as it came in rather fast and accurate from just past square leg umpire to be run out. Jack burned out taking 20 off about 10 balls with 4 boundaries, bowled.

Ol was in next with what looked like virgin new pads, bought last season just before the injury and not had much of a run out. They took him and us to the end of the innings 11 not out, with your reporter frantically running with Ol to get us to 162 for 5.

Tea was a rather liquid affair for the opposition but they did provide several filled to the brim bread bags full of various interesting sandwiches, some pork pies and home made brownies. No curried goat.

As ever the slip cordon of doom assembled for catching practice as a warm up with Matt getting his hands warm and ready for action, and there was a lot of action behind the stumps to come. 

Ol opened up and considering he hadn’t turned his arm apart from earlier in the net warm up was metronomic from the off starting with a couple of maidens. Supported by Si at the other end. Ol had new wheels for the season and they were warming up nicely. Manny came on first change and after a bout of self deprecation for a couple of wides, his tracking was back and on the money.

We kept it tight in the field as a unit and they crept to an almost equivalent score to ours at the same point, after 9 overs they 32 without loss.

Then the tide started to turn and more chances came, a tough chance to Matt driving to his right behind the stumps. Matt had been practicing in the week and just needed another chance. Ol got their opener first, bowled. Manny then took their third man for a duck caught behind off the edge to Matt. You could tell behind Matt’s grill there was hunger for more and more there was.  

Ol bowled their second opener and then not wanted to turn the gas off his new wheels Anthony kept him on to bowl through. 7 overs 2 for 13, nee bad sir.

Harry came on after Ol having bowled a few in the first game, started very strongly on a pitch that was quite hard to get any variation he managed to make one rear up into their very competent looking number four and off the splice it looped to Matt well bowled Harry victim number two for Matt. He could taste blood. 4 down for 50 in the 16th.

Manny carried on and was causing all sorts of issues and chances came nearly every ball. Their middle order batsman swinging away not sure whether in frustration or lubrication but Manny spotted it and next ball fuller, straight, bowled. 61 for 5

Jack was next up and a few smiles and warm drunken words had already been exchanged between their captain who was looking very rosey red from sun and Kronenberg. We asked him when we saw Jack coming in next whether he wanted a lid and he said well only if he’s going to bowl beamers, we repeated do you want a lid?

Sure enough next ball he only just managed to duck out of the way, a few choice slurred words came back at us behind the stumps, we were only concerned for his welfare and that we weren’t confident he could weave out the way. He stuck around for a bit until Jack caught his leading edge and boom another for Matt behind. Jack then bowled another beaut wrapped a guys toes plumb in front. Their score book went a bit wobbly towards the end when i think they had lost a bit of interest or the use of their hands to write. They were 80-odd for 7. 

Jack then got his third with a super forward driving caught with the assistance of forearms, stomach, legs and the chin of Manny. Would have gone upstairs but we all saw close in that it hadn’t touched the floor and the batsman walked.

Anthony then turned to his seasoned professional who had been practicing with Matt in the week. It game plan time. A brief word between the two and they trot back to their positions. Plan. Execute. Reward. Garry ‘I love you Dad’ Aubin comes steaming in, lands one truly in the right spot, makes the batsman play, finds the edge we all go up in unison. 1st ball, boom Gary has a wicket and Matt has 4 for the match. Practice will now become compulsory.

We wrap it up next over with a few looseners from your reporter and then one that is straight to the either drunk or non cricketer at number 11 who lets it hit the wicket. All out for 98.

It wasn’t a curry goat game but there was plenty of good humoured cricket and beer. I wouldn’t say we won because they was pissed but it helped.

Unbeaten 2018.

Anthony 64

Jack 3/11 

Hackney Umpire Man of the Match: Jack Lewis

Up the Umpires!

[ouidazeller1101-blog]

AD 2018: From My Crystal Ball * Naija Latest News ~ 26/01/2018

PULPITS are burning with the fire of predictions. Pentecostal giants are delivering their messages to guide the flock. Necromancers, sorcerers, tricksters, fraudsters and pranksters are also busy. The town is abuzz with predictions - and resolutions -for the New Year.

Now that genuine religious patriarchs and matriarchs have spoken charlatans, who claim to be that voice of the One crying in the wilderness, have been heard and the pandemonium has subsided, it is time for "Editorial Notebook" to weigh in and reveal, for the benefit of the devoted reader, what lies in the belly of the year.

Here then, dear reader, are what to count on in the new year. First, the political scene. Soon after all, lots of have referred to as this the year of politics, in a veiled reference to the run-up to the 2019 basic elections.

The stress on President Muhammadu Buhari to run will be more intense. The army of sycophants, such as some cunning and corny governors, will grow. They will be a lot more vociferous in their Buhari-for-ever campaign. Buhari and the attentive public must ignore them. They are battling to feather their personal nests.

The President ought to ask himself some standard concerns: How properly have I carried out? Can my overall health carry on? Must I just go household and rest? Haven’t I missed my farm so substantially? What will my family’s stand be? Will my wife Aisha (bless a further foray into months of electioneering?) Phrase in brackets not clear. Please review.

Nonetheless on politics: Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar will continue to threaten to run. His opponents will be asking: Exactly where is he running to? Who is pursuing him? Why? Those are, it must be noted, the soft critics. The harsh ones will ask: is the seat for sale?

Atiku, a man of uncommon zest, will soldier on. He will rally the youth and claim to have an understanding of how they feel. His battle to safe the ticket of the Peoples Democratic Celebration (PDP) will virtually split the PDP. Celebration leaders should pray for its survival. They ought to curse the spirit of deception and obfuscation, the kind that sparked the Ali Modu Sheriff - Ahmed Markarfi leadership war.

Some guys will approach Atiku, asking to be hired at a fortune for a walk from Lagos to Abuja to back his ambition. He need to not touch them with a lengthy pole. They are as fake as World wide web fraudsters.

It will be the year of stunts and stunts males. No much more will critical politicians be happy with devouring in public view corn-on-the cob from roadside vendors numerous will transform themselves into hawkers of groundnuts, garden eggs, candy, telephone recharge cards and all such stuff. They will be screaming for patronage in a manner that will lead quite a few to consider that they are mad. No. They are not. No require to rush at them. It is all in a desperate bid to recognize with the masses.

Rejoice, location fathers and location boys, roughnecks, bouncers, thugs and fake herbalists. It is your season the season of politics, of high priced spiritual intercessions, of emergency publicists, of dubious advocates, of free of charge money and, of course, of free of charge food and drinks.

Senators will continue to resist Ibrahim Magu’s headship of the Financial and Monetary Crimes Commission (EFCC). They will rework the EFCC Act, run a public hearing exactly where Magu will be completely scorned and maligned and, at some point, discover a a lot more suitable candidate to replace him- most likely a senator or a former lawmaker.

There will be outrage. Activists will march. Ordinary folks will scream: "Ah senators!" Some will repeat those unproven allegations against the distinguished senators. They will describe the chamber as a conclave of drug barons, ex-convicts, pedophiles and crooks. But fair is fair who can manage the beat better than a man who has noticed it all?

In Ekiti, the PDP will be divided as Governor Ayo Fayose will insist on fielding his deputy, Kolapo Olusola, a professor of creating technologies. A lot of party chiefs will kick. They will claim to be the finest to keep alive Fayose’s enviable legacies, including the magical vote harvesting formula, stomach infrastructure, that has got every single Ekiti resident sporting chubby cheeks and protruding stomachs, their rotundity the envy of all.

"Who is he?" they will be asking of Fayose’s candidate. Does he possess the talents - tailor, fireman, motorcyclist, cooked food vendor and a lot more - that have distinguished Fayose among his peers? How many titles does he have? How several battles has he fought?

Needless to say, Fayose will have his way, but the main election will prove a really hard nut to crack.

In Oyo, the "ewedu, gbegiri and amala" politics will return, pushing aside the present intellectual bent that has been substantially criticised as elitist and sectional. Why? Several devotees of the Adedibu College have joined the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC), bringing along several years of encounter.

Far more states will attempt to catch up with Imo, which will continue to make waves with its Ministry of Happiness and Objective Fulfillment, erection of statues and demolition of troublesome markets. Unable to cope with the army of individuals from other states flooding Imo in search of happiness and fulfillment, Governor Rochas Okorocha will mount a massive campaign that will be tagged "Imo First" or some thing like that. He will be fighting that all indigenes ought to initially taste of this exclusive phenomenon that is drawing individuals as bees to honey.

Akinwunmi Ambode’s image will keep soaring. The Lagos governor’s ambitious programmes will win international accolades. None shall match him. The opposition will obtain it hard to discover a candidate to confront him. There will be a rash of groups campaigning for his return.

Efforts to unite them will not work as additional groups spring up like mushrooms.

The Federal Government will have to move rapid to quit cows from taking more than our towns and cities, which includes Abuja. The animals have turn out to be the indisputable conquerors of the countryside. Gangsters posing as herdsmen will continue their bloody campaign, killing and maiming. The governors, helpless as usual, will console the bereaved, visit morgues and shed tears. They must wear bullet proof vests on such visits to deny the gunmen of snatching away a major trophy.

Pressed to react, the Federal Government will situation a statement, sympathising with these who lost their loved ones and asking the security agents to go after the "perpetrators of the dastardly act". It will threaten to turn the screw on them and bring "the full weight of the law" upon them. Their backers, the government will pressure, will face the "full wrath of the law". All will be quiet for a although. Then, one more attack a round of condemnation and tears. The old statement is whipped off the shelf, reworked and issued. All will be quiet - until a further massacre.

There will be the temptation to withdraw $1b from the Excess Crude Account to fight the criminals, but some governors, these who kicked against spending such funds on the anti-Boko Haram war and other security challenges, will rise. We really should be cautious as it all becomes a matter of academics and legal gymnastics.

The Super Eagles will be at the Planet Cup in Russia. There will be a huge campaign to make sure that we make history as the initial African nation to win the trophy. The Nigeria Football Federation (NFF) will get in touch with for prayers - from individuals of all faiths and atheists.

The odds are against our team, but the globe will acknowledge that we have got talents. 1 point: Minister Solomon Dalung should watch his tongue. No additional "we qualified without having conceding a goal" and such empty bathroom talks. In addition to, he should really guarantee that the group is not declared missing (he claimed not to know their whereabouts of our team just ahead of the 2016 Olympics in Brazil).

Frontline entertainers P-Square will be below stress from their heart broken fans, who will be begging them to reunite. Both sides will mount a enormous verbal war. After a when, the twins will announce that in the interest of their several fans, they are back collectively - sturdy and hot.

On the foreign scene, North Korea will continue to get lots of interest. Its leader Kim Jong-un will stay a discomfort in the neck for United States President Donald Trump. North Korea will forge ahead with its nuclear programme, testing extra intercontinental ballistic missiles. Trump, in a series of tweets, will retain saying that the United States will not permit a nuclear energy North Korea. Kim Jon-un will assure all that the nuclear button is appropriate on his table, but he will neither be provoked nor tempted to press it. Trump will reply that his button is larger than Kim’s. And the battle of wits and muscle flexing will go on ad infinitum.

The year will end on a rather busy note. Motorists will be running about like sheep without having a shepherd, hunting for fuel. Fares will rise. Airports will be jammed as harmattan - harsh, dry, dusty and cloudy - impairs visibility. The government will announce with magisterial aplomb that it has found these behind the perennial petrol shortage - blackmailers. They will be warned to pull the brakes on their evil act or face the full wrath of the law for their "unacceptable" conduct. They will not listen.

In all, it will be an thrilling year - all items being equal.

Iron Mike Tyson and his new trade

BOXING good Michael Gerard Tyson has come a extended way. World heavyweight champion - 50 wins (44 by knockouts) and six losses - ex-convict, film star, dad and darling of fans all over the planet. He earned - and blew - $300m.

Like numerous ex-stars, he couldn’t manage his achievement. He went to prison for rape. He lost his daughter and he started begging for roles in movies to prevent dying in penury.

Now the "Iron man" has found a new trade - he has opened a cannabis ranch in California. The 40-acre house is in California City, a town with a population of just 15,000 individuals southwest of Death Valley. The ranch will be researching into clinical advantages of marijuana. Health-related marijuana has been legalised in California in the previous 20 years. Farmers will be taught how to grow the stuff in the Tyson Cultivation College. There are other facilities.

The legend’s grass-to-grace story, which a lot of will not hesitate to describe as zero-to-hero and hero-to-zero, provides a massive lesson to all who strive to excel. To stay a achievement is the real test of a thriving males.

[ndakota2017]

Aug 17

After posting my dialogue, we returned to camp for the evening.  As we were sitting enjoying our cocktail hour, the wind began to pick up, but we didn’t think it was serious.  Boy, were we wrong!  Before I could get the pegs out of the ground and roll up the awning, the wind  was blowing 30-40 mph, with gusts up to 60 mph, we heard later. They didn’t have to convince us.  I was holding on to the awning for dear life and E was holding onto me and then the support pole.  I thought we were going to lose it.  The wind just wouldn’t slow down long enough to get the awning rolled up.  We didn’t know our neighbor across the street from us was having the same trouble with his 40 ft motorhome.  We were just hanging on for dear life.  After about 10-15 minutes or maybe an hour, two guys we met from Georgia in a nearby campsite came running over to help.  Two 6’2”ish, 250 pounders helped us hold it down long enough to get the pegs out and roll up the awning up with poles hanging out.  The 77 year old they had just helped with his awning ran over with his ladder and we got the poles secured and the awning fully retracted.  A disaster averted because of the willingness of fellow campers to leap to your assistance when needed.  Did I mention they were from the “South”, where people generally help their neighbors in times of need?  No questions asked.  They laughed and said they had to hurry over before I got blown into South Dakota, no more than I weighed.  We had been in the outer boundaries of a storm cell north of us.  We don’t know what kind of damage was done there, but I bet it was  a lot from looking at the radar on one man’s phone of the storm track.

We were able to get everything in order and have a late dinner.

Aug 18

Routine day. Up early, 9 holes of golf, back to campground for lunch.  We changed our location because the people who helped us left and they were in a relatively shady spot.  As we were getting ready to change sites our A/C went out.  I figured it tripped an external or internal circuit breaker.  No such luck.  We moved and tried to find the source of the problem with some trouble-shooting with my electrician friend in Tulsa.  No dice, no electricity at all and I apparently left my volt meter in Tulsa or I just couldn’t find it. I kept flipping breakers and switches until the electricity came on again.  Back to normal, right? Wrong.  While we were visiting our neighbors with the awning problem through the cocktail hour, the A/C tripped something and again no electricity.  He had a volt meter, but we couldn’t find the source of the problem.  I did everything I had done before but to no avail.  We figured on no electricity until we get back to Tulsa.  We would run the generator to keep batteries charged and go home.  As I was taking the panel off the inverter to check the wiring, just to do something, the lights came on.  When I put screws back in to secure the top half of the panel box, no electricity. I unscrewed the two screws, lights.  We’ll see how this works after we turn the A/C on Saturday afternoon, late. We have shade until about 1430 hours. 

Aug 19

We got up early, had breakfast, and took a nice two and a half mile walk around the post. We scoped out the jeep rides that takes you up to the high ridges of the Pine Ridge area. We didn't commit to anything because we didn't know when Concetta and Matt would be there. They got a late start and traffic was building coming out of Denver to Nebraska for the eclipse on Monday. The campground was starting to fill up. Concetta and Matt arrived about 2:30 and we set up their tent. We had a relaxing afternoon and I cooked hamburger steaks on the grill along with corn on the cob and a baked potato. We had a good visit Saturday evening.

 Aug 20

The weather was very nice and we got a good walk in Sunday morning before breakfast with Concetta and Matt. I signed us up for a jeep drive in the backcountry where we saw some spectacular scenery after we got off the road. We had to stop for a small herd of buffalo rambling across the road. One lady in front of us had gotten out of her car to take pictures and the buffalo started running toward her. She was able to get back in the car and as we went by her, the jeep driver who is a park employee reiterated to her to stay in her vehicle when buffalo are around. It was a nice drive and we enjoyed seeing the area from up high. It's a very beautiful place, calm and peaceful. It was not so calm and peaceful during the Sioux uprising in the late 1800s. I can't remember if I said it already that Crazy Horse was killed right there on Fort Robinson, bayoneted by a soldier when he tried to escape. There is a memorial to him and many Native Americans come there to pray. We had a relaxing afternoon visiting with our friends across the way and planning the next day. We decided to get up at 5:30 and leave by 7 to get to Hemingford, Nebraska, for the eclipse.

 Aug 21

 We got on the road by 6:30 and got to Hemingford about 7:15. We expected a lot of traffic and movement, but there was none. We had done a recon on the day before to find where we were going to park at the local city park. When we got there, we were the only two cars in the parking lot. We have the generator so we were able to have coffee and vittles for breakfast. About 9:00 AM cars started showing up. The people who pulled up beside us first actually live in Denver about a mile and a half from Matt and Concetta. What a coincidence. The parking lot never filled up, but there was a festive atmosphere with people from as far away as California, New York, Minnesota and Colorado. The eclipse started uneventfully, but the excitement mounted as we neared totality. We went into our van and noticed that there was a reflection of the eclipse coming through the skylight and projected onto the seat. That was interesting and we got pictures of it with the eclipse almost total and pictures later as the eclipse was ending. I can say that it never got totally dark as we had thought, but it was eerily silent and there was a yellowish hue around the park and cornfield next to the park. You can see a true 360 degree sunset during a total eclipse. We were so excited we forgot to take a selfie of us with the eclipse in the background. We do have pictures of the eclipse and we videotaped it. Concetta has edited the video and I will give anyone who wants to know the web address on YouTube. After the eclipse, we went down to the local American Legion and ordered T-shirts for a momento.  I'm sure the money is going for a good cause. We enjoyed visiting with the people at the club. After that, we parted ways. Concetta and Matt went southwest to Denver and we went southeast toward the Nebraska/Kansas border. We wanted to stop at Carhenge in Alliance, Nebraska, where totality was one of the longest durations. We drove past it, but parking was expensive and there was a zoo of people going in and out of that attraction. We just kept on driving, hoping to stop about 4 maybe 5:00 PM. It turns out there aren't many RV parks or campgrounds on that road through the Sand Hills of Nebraska.  One state park was completely booked by a group of friends and family from Texas. We stopped at a municipal campground in a town I can't remember, but the only empty spot was by what I think was a sewer overflow. We drove around to see if there was another campsite open, but they were all reserved and by the time we got back to that one, it was taken. On the road again.  There was not another campground for 3 hours until we found a spot at a local marina about 20 minutes out of the way. We parked, had dinner and got up early the next morning and headed for home.

Aug 22

We had an uneventful drive at that point and made it home by 5:30.  As I write this, we have been home 6 nights and we're still playing catch-up with paperwork, cleanup and repairs to the RV, mowing the grass and getting the winter crop of tomatoes established. I will have pictures later, so as Donovan says just wait for it, just wait for it. It’s coming.

By the way, the electricity never stopped again, but I still need to check it out.

[trendingnewsb]

40+ Moms Being Moms

There Were Boobs On-Screen, So My Mother Took Action. I Am A 22 Year Old Gay Man

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Funny Mom

My Friend’s Mom Printed And Framed A Picture From Facebook

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Mom Got Her First Windowed Oven

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My Mom Called Me And Asked Me To Come Over And See What Was Wrong With Her New Lamp. “It Won’t Plug In,” She Said, “It’s Like It Needs A Different Style Plug Or Something”

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This Was The Most Recent Photo On My Mom’s iPad

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Mom Asked Me To Look Up The Price Of A New Ac Adapter For Her Computer

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We Own A Family Business. Mom Thought She Bought A Map Of The World For The Conference Room

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Mom Never Could Program The VCR

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Moms And Technology

My Mom Walked Into My Room And Asked Why I Had A Box Of Tampons On My Desk. I’ve Never Noticed The Similarities…

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You Tried, Mom

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My Mom Cluelessly Bought Me This Shirt, Knowing I Love Wiener Dogs

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from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2poZpsn via Viral News HQ

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

I still remember the first and last ask I got in my inbox, they asked if I liked waffles. I still think about it sometimes.

[infinitehouseofbooks]

BLOG TOUR - Servants of Fate Box Set

DISCLAIMER: This content has been provided to INFINITE HOUSE OF BOOKS by Bewitching Book Tours. No compensation was received. This information required by the Federal Trade Commission.

GENRE: Paranormal romance

Servants of Fate

Boxed Set

Books 1-3

Wendy Sparrow

  Genre: Paranormal romance

  Publisher: Pen and Kink Publishing

  Date of Publication: December 24, 2016

  ISBN: 978-1-988233-21-5

ASIN: B01N1Q567S

  Number of pages: 308

Word Count: 96,000

  Cover Artist: Amanda C. Davis

About the Books:

Book Description:

  As servants of Fate, Father Time’s sons must sacrifice a mortal’s lifetime on behalf of humanity before each year ends. It’s simpler if they don’t get involved, as their immortality is a barrier to relationships and to understanding the emotions of those whose lives end in a blink, especially if these time holders have a hand in it. Servants of Fate pass in and out of the lives of those around them, never interacting, until a different type of fate steps in. They can stop time, but love will leave them powerless.

  Amazon

  THIS COLLECTION CONTAINS ALL THREE TITLES FROM THE SERVANTS OF FATE SERIES

  Stealing Time

  Father Time’s son, Zeit Geist, must sacrifice a mortal’s lifetime to the Fates each New Year’s Eve. Last year—inexplicably, really—he made an 11:59 substitution. The Fates are pissed and they’re after his mortal Hannah. With the year ending, he ought to figure out why he’d saved her—and why he keeps doing it.

  Following an unlucky year, Hannah Lyons needs a week’s holiday in a lodge to unwind. What she gets is near-death experiences and a sexy immortal who can’t avoid kissing her, but might have to kill her. After all, even Zeit can’t hold back time indefinitely.

  Taking Time

  Tempus fugit. Time flies…unless you’re Tempus Halt, Father Time’s son. Day in and day out are the same, except for New Year’s Eve when he steals the life of a mortal on behalf of the Fates. This year marks his first failure to stay the monotonous course. A mortal’s kiss and her insistence on taking the place of his year’s sacrifice stalled out everything. Now, Tempus has to keep her alive for a year so his sacrifice isn’t wasted, but that’s the only reason—definitely.

  One of these crazy grim reapers stole Lacey Carpenter’s estranged father’s life two years ago. She’ll give her own life rather than letting it happen again. It backfires when Tempus doesn’t actually kill her, and they have to spend the year together. She’s falling for an immortal who stops time, not just to save her life, but also to ruin her dates and steal her books. This can never work and fate is just not on her side—in fact, they’d really like her dead before Tempus falls for her in return.

  Keeping Time

  When Ruin’s mortal sacrifice to the Fates on New Year’s Eve is already dying, it should be the easiest life he has to take, but not this year. The dying man knows Ruin is there to kill him, but he asks Father Time’s son to look after his twin sister. Ruin can’t stay away from the sweet and sensual Phoebe. His previous interactions with women changed the definition of his name, Ruin, so he can’t fall for her, especially when the lovely mortal doesn’t know he killed her brother.

  Phoebe’s brother promised to send her a guardian angel, but Ruin seems too devilish to be holy. He only wants to be friends and keep watch over her, but she can’t resist him. Loving Ruin is a sin tempting her heart. How wrong is it to cause an angel’s fall? Ruin and Phoebe’s time is running out as another New Year’s Eve sacrifice approaches, and Ruin might lose everything for keeping his true hand in fate secret.

      Guest Post:

Paranormaling Outside the Normal

When you’re preparing to have a book published, one of the steps is to figure out the tags that match it and the lists that it’ll go on. I ran into a problem with my first novella released four years ago. There weren’t lists for paranormal romances about Jack Frost. There’s not a tag for it either. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson, but I don’t color inside the lines.

The Servants of Fate series is the story of Father Time’s sons finding romance…also not a category on Amazon. It should be. This is a problem you face when you play fast and loose with established parameters for the genre though. It makes summarizing a little more complex. There aren’t lists on Goodreads for Father Time’s sons.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the more commonly found paranormal creatures. I’ve written a trilogy about lycans (werewolves) called Taming the Pack. I’ve written unpublished novels with vampires. I’ve been in anthologies with zombie romances. He’s a little more off the beaten path for shifters, but I’ve got a gargoyle in an upcoming young adult book.

It’s not just in writing, either, I devour books about shifters. I cruised my way through Jennifer Ashley’s Shifters Unbound series twice last year. I finished and restarted immediately. Thea Harrison’s Dragon Bound? Geez, that was one sexy book. Then, there’s the sweet but so freaking funny Nocturne Falls series by Kristen Painter. Have you read that? GO! NOW! (Wait, what was I doing? Riiiight, guest post referring to my books.) I will say that there are definitely very unique aspects to all these books, despite their use of more common character types. I love that—that sparkle and originality.

When a submission call went out a few years ago asking for holiday romances, I could have grabbed one of the more common creatures or beings when I decided to go paranormal, but I didn’t. As I looked at the various winter myths, I stumbled across the idea of Father Time and juggled it in my brain, looking for an ‘in.’ There’s an aspect to the myth about Father Time actually dying at the end of the year and being reborn with the new year. That downside really appealed to me so I twisted it to work. It’s sinister. I love sinister.

When you create your own myths or shift lesser-known myths, you have the task of creating a new world and reason for conflict. New worlds have rules to go with them. How does your magic work? What are the costs and benefits? What abilities do your paranormal characters have? In my experience, this builds as I create my world and characters until I have my fully-realized vision. It’s different each time I go outside the box, though.

In the Servants of Fate trilogy, each of Father Time’s sons must sacrifice a mortal’s life to the Fates in exchange for the time they’ll use to change the fates of worthy mortals over the next year. They each have a “good of the many” mindset firmly in place to justify this—up until they find a mortal who’s worth more than “the many” to them. I dug the moral conundrum that each of these men face at that time and how they deal with it. These types of conflicts are one of the reasons I love to explore the paranormal world beyond werewolves and vampires.

If you’ve run across paranormals outside the normal, what have you liked about them? Answer in the comments.

Thank you for letting me crash your blog for the day!

      Excerpt:

  It took them another three attempts to get what they both deemed were acceptable snowman portions.

“Hey. Coal.” With raised eyebrows, Hannah held up the two lumps of coal that had come in his snowman kit. “Get a good long look because this is what you’re getting next year.”

He couldn’t stop smiling at her. A dozen times each hour today, he’d wished he could slow down time because he wanted to spend more time with Hannah—he needed that. She was singing Frosty the Snowman with a carefree abandon he’d never felt before. If only he didn’t have the end of the year looming over him.

“Okay, pass me his corn cob pipe,” she said.

He pulled the “pipe” out of the box and stared at it. “Our snowman is a smoker? And this is a kids’ song?”

“It was written back before people worried about things like their lungs,” she said, reaching for it.

He pulled it away. No. It wasn’t right. “His days are already numbered, and he’s playing with fire—actual fire?”

“Ohhhh, right.” She tilted her head. “Wow, that does make him a bit of a rebel, doesn’t it? I bet the snowladies were all suitably impressed.”

Zeit looked around. There were mortal children all around. Young impressionable mortal children. He put the pipe back in the box.

“Or he’s not really a rebel. He likes to play things safe. Then again,” she tapped his coal eyes, “he did earn his coal. Maybe he’s got nothing to prove. There should be buttons in the box.”

He pulled off his glove to search through the bottom of the box, pulling out three buttons. “What is he buttoning up?” he asked as he handed them to Hannah.

She’d started pressing the buttons into his middle snow section, but she stopped and bit her lip as she stared at the round button still in her hand. Finally, she shrugged and pushed the last one in. “I think you’re overanalyzing this.”

“Or it’s a mortal tradition that could use some scrutiny.” He held out the faux carrot that came in his kit.

“But, look, he’s healthy. A carrot.”

“Is he going to eat his own nose?”

“I can’t do this with you now.”

    About the Author:

  After a childhood spent wandering as a military brat, Wendy Sparrow found her home in Washington State. Her days involve convincing her two kids she knows how to properly parent and her nights showing her husband all the cool things romance authors know… or goofing around online…  or reading, but mostly the first thing.

  She’s active in OCD and autism communities and writes on her blog to support awareness in both. With her whole heart, Wendy believes everyone deserves a happily-ever-after. If she’s not writing or wrangling kids, she’s on Twitter, @WendySparrow, where she’ll chat with anyone about anything.

  Web: http://wendysparrow.com/

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/WendySparrow

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/WendySparrowAuthor/

                                  Tour giveaway

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  a Rafflecopter giveaway

  A handmade original choker from Neath the Veil’s “Every Rose has its Thorn” collection. Soft woven ribbon holds a gorgeous cream and black rose cameo set in a silver finish frame. It drapes down 5 inches from the top of choker to the bottom. The length is sized from 11-1/2 inches to 16 inches by clasp and adjustable chain. This giveaway is international.

  Additionally, three paperback copies of the anthology Legendary will be given away individually. The anthology is edited by Laura Harvey and contains an urban legend inspired story by Wendy Sparrow. These copies may be won by those in the U.S. or Canada.

  The final giveaway item is a $10 USD Amazon gift card which is open to countries with Amazon sites.

BLOG TOUR – Servants of Fate Box Set was originally published on the Wordpress version of SHANNON MUIR'S INFINITE HOUSE OF BOOKS.