#Jerk Seasoning Powder

[brionysea]

jinx is such a mirror. she doesn't care about loss of life when she's doing it for silco because she basically reverts to the lost child she was when she met him and all she wants is his approval and he doesn't care about loss of life (except hers) so she shouldn't either, but she had artistic purple tears streaming down her face before firing fishbones because it was to prove a point to vi and in that relationship loss of life matters a lot. and the fascinating merger of the two in how she's cementing vi's initial knee-jerk reaction to call powder a jinx and picking up silco's ideology as her own all in one. i need to know who she'll be when she comes out of this because powder's gone and even the girl that she was growing up in silco's undercity slowly disappeared over the season as his control on her slipped and she started making her own calls. jinx is already the most thematically correct character for accepting change in the end instead of trying to reverse it but now she has to reinvent herself and decide who she's going to be all over again

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silver Lining 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

Note: I was going to add this to the bookstore au but realised Bucky is a side character in Steve’s and not old so….

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You leave the cafe with your lukewarm cup. You were so anxious you'd almost forgot about the pepperminty goodness. You sip, slightly disappointed in the temperature. Still, it's yummy and you have your bag of books in hand. The day has been a mild success.

You walk along the icy pavement, the season nipping at your cheeks. Most people complain about the snow but it's your favorite. You don't drive so you don't worry for a slippery commute, you have your heavy-treaded doc martens and a downy coat.

You head down Ironwood hoping to catch a streetcar car only to find it skimming past. You sigh and drop your shoulders. You could use the exercise and it would be so bad as long as the path behind Jerry's Submarines isn't snowed over.

You cut through to the next street along a short alley and hop over the bank between the sidewalk and the road. As you do, you slip and stumble, a pair of headlights turning just as you fall into the street. I long fearsome honk blows in your ears.

You whip around to face the driver, raising your hand in an apologetic wave. Not the smartest move but the street isn't usually that busy. You brows pop up as you recognize behind the wheel. Oh boy. Not again.

You skitter away hoping he didn't recognise you too. That very same man who invaded your personal bubble and insulted your taste. Lisa doesn't believe it when you say you're cursed but it's hard to deny from your vantage point.

You get to the other side and keep your head straight, marching away without looking back. He drives by slowly past your peripheral and you dip onto the path, letting out a breath. Alright, no way you'll see that jerk again.

There's a blanket if snow over the path but not enough to deter you. You kick through the powder as you bob to the music in your earbud. You know, Mariah Carey's non-Christmas tunes aren't too shabby either.

You come out on Orchard, sipping your mellowed candy cane cocoa and swing the paper bag carelessly. You could start your podcast. You have more than enough resources now and the new books will be the cherry on top.

As you stride along Orchard towards Cornish, a car door opens and shuts. You don't see the figure before you until they step over the curve and nearly take you off your feet. You drop your cup, spilling what's left of the cold hot chocolate.

“Oh, oof, d-dude–” you sputter out as the liquid drips down your lilac docs.

“Dude?” The man grips the bag in his left hand, his other opening and closing in a tight fist. No way.

“Ew,” you let out the syllable without filter.

“Ew?” He eyes you head to toe.

“Y-yeah, y-y-you're following me.”

“Following?” He growls, “you girls sure do have quite the imagination these days.”

“B-b-but… you saw me….g-go down the path.”

“I wasn't even looking at you, doll,” he scoffs.

“D-d-doll?” You scowl.

“Oh, don't even--I could call you worse.”

“L-leave me a-alone,” you back up, gripping the wire handle of the shopping bag tightly.

“Happily,” he sneers, “I have a job so get out of my way.”

He shoulders past you, harshly. Your trads slip on the salted walk as you grunt and turn to eatch him strut towards the house just a few feet down. You rub the sore spot left by his gruff impact.

You shake your head a leave, thinking better of shouting ‘old man’ at his back. You probably shouldn't antagonize him. So you spin and tuck your hands into your pockets and carry on.

Your street is only a few blocks away. By then, you've almost forgotten about the strange encounters. The closer you get to the haven of your bedroom, the more excited you are to crack open your new books.

Your parents house is trimmed in bright coloured lights and the lawn decorated with plastic candy canes and full entourage of fake reindeer. The familiarity of your childhood home is both comforting and stagnating. You can't believe you're still here.

You go inside, leaving your wet boots on the mat as your mother calls your stepdads name from the kitchen. You unzip your coat and hang it on the rack mounted against the wall. You reclaim your bag of books and make your way to the front room.

“Dean,” your mom calls again as she appears in the hall, peering in after you, “oh it's you.”

“Just me,” you drone and continue towards the stairs. You stop at the bottom, “mom,” she keeps from retreating and looks back at you, “need help?”

“Oh, no honey, I almost got it figured out. So, how's the job hunt?”

You try to smile. Oh, that. You can't live off severance forever and the settlement is never going to happen.

“Good,” you lie, shifting the bag behind your hands.

Maybe you should be a bit more prudent. It's an investment, for your podcast. You just need to figure out how to record. And how not to stutter every other word.

You're only thirty. You have time to smooth out details. Don't you?

You turn and plod up the stairs and into your bedroom. The clutter greets you along with the nest of blankets tangled in your bed. What are you even thinking? You can hardly keep your room tidy.

It's not your fault. Your mom says so. Lisa too. But it has to be. You had it all, a good job, a nice apartment, independence. You blew it all. If you'd just kept your mouth shut.

But wasn't that the problem? Isn't that why you're getting therapy? So you can speak up next time. So there won't be a next time.

You sniff and sit at the desk, adding the bag to the mess. You hang your head in the darkness as the snow reflects the sheen of street lights through the window. It takes time, Lisa says, but you feel it running out.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREEis here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here and this is part thirteen??? Hello??

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off...

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

…Bart doesn’t really do patience.

He doesn’t have to, so he doesn’t. Growing up in a world that wasn’t exactly real didn’t make for a real strong understanding of reality, or timing, or estimating how long something takes, or how long it would take a garden-variety human to complete a task.

He sits in the chair. He kicks his legs.

So. Bart doesn’t really do patience. When he wants to make his way through a book, it takes a few seconds to read through the whole thing at his standard pace. It’s great! Finishing the Troy Dodson series had taken ten minutes. He watched the full set of movies on quadruple-fast mode in about half an hour, and then still had the time to show up to the tower for trivia with the team that afternoon. It had been Crash!

And when—when Bart had wanted to learn how to cook, he went through half the recipes in Ma Kent’s copy of The Delights of Cooking in two days flat. And that was with missions. He even taught himself how to prepare squirrel from the back of the book! It tasted…uh, weird, sure, but that might have been his substitution of Caribbean jerk seasoning for garlic powder.

Patience is… Well, when Bart is on a mission and he has to wait for everyone to go at a human-comprehensible speed when laying out the plan of action, that’s patience. Sometimes he jumps the gun a little, maybe—but usually it all works out!

And when Bart has to wait for Barry and Wally to be free and off work for their day jobs, because they’re adults with real world things they have to do and Bart’s just—well, he’s—he tries to be patient! And he distracts himself with other things, and he takes the time to explore the world and get in new experiences he couldn’t have before in his own little virtual world, and he tries new things, and he eats new foods, and then Wally or Barry shoot him a text or ring him up and then he’s back in town in seconds anyway!

…But there isn’t a way to speed this along.

The doctor with the cute cat lanyard and Wonder Woman both have been trying to explain to Bart how bad the damage is. But Bart can tell. He has eyes.

His friend is physical now, but he’s not…right. His face is caved in, like someone hit him really really hard, or someone gouged out the whole front face of his skull—Bart can’t see any red matter, but that’s because of the pulsing green sheath that’s covered all of his friend’s open injuries.

And there’s a lot of green.

That means he’s super injured. Bart can see most of his glowing green not-face through the window of the metal tube his friend is sleeping in.

It’s not just his missing face, his crooked jaw, or his barely-moving chest, or his green-soaked fingers anyway; there’s open pits in his chest, slathered in green goo that shifts when he breathes and glows just a little in the odd light of the medical wing, lumpy and half-scarred from stitches that were sloppily applied. Utilitarian.

Tim told Bart that the sutures were probably meant more to prevent extra clean-up in a lab setting than to keep Bart’s friend alive.

…Bart doesn’t really want to think about that.

There are lime-tinged scrapes and scars across and around his friend's hands and up his arms, verdant-veined legs that aren’t exactly the right shape and orientation legs should be, crevasses in his stomach, his chest, against his collarbone, and the clawed-out pit where a face should be.

All green. So green. Like grass… Like the Earth, when Bart comes home from space.

It’s scary. It’s frightening.

Wonder Woman gave Bart a hug and said it would be okay when the Medical team started to apply white-swathed casts around misaligned legs, and Bart almost cried. The medical team thinks the green is his friend’s body working on healing him. That Bart’s friend will be okay.

Bart lets everyone say comforting things, because it’s kind when everybody’s kind. But Bart’s been an experiment in healing the unhealable and he knows as much as anyone else does that there’s simply no way to know if his friend will be okay.

But his friend isn’t alone like he was. Bart makes sure of it.

So he sits at his friend’s bedside, eats a granola bar, kicks his feet in the stiff chair Medical had to offer him, and Bart practices his patience.

By the end of this, he might even be good at it.

[sticky-bros]

Sometimes there's a "platonic explanation" for what's going on with Dean and Sam, I just really like to explore the horny ones. It's fun.

Here's an example. "Hell House." Sam walks out of the bathroom wearing only a towel, and Dean gapes at him for a second. See, the brothers are having a prank war, and Dean has just put chilli powder in Sam's underwear. Dean's making that expression because he was nearly caught in the act. So that's the in-universe normal brothers explanation for what's going on here. Now, out of universe, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki are unrelated straight actors who are recording the first season of a show together. They not actually brothers who grew up side-by-side for at least eighteen years. And guys sometimes get embarrassed about seeing other men in states of undress. That's my interpretation of Jensen's reaction anyway. This contributes to Dean's reaction not really reading like a typically brotherly one to me. While Dean and Sam are not as unfamiliar with each other as their actors, "Hell House" takes place in season one, so Dean and Sam are adjusting to having a relationship with each other again after years of estrangement. IIRC, this is the first time Sam is undressed around Dean on-screen. Even with the prank war background in mind, I can buy the idea that Dean is still getting used to being around his naked brother again. Anyway, during his shower, he jerks off thinking about water dripping down Sam's abs.

[cattimeswithjellie]

Stream Recap, TangoTek, 6/10/24

((This is the funniest one yet, good lord. Things get wild starting around 2:08:00.))

8:30 Tango opens the stream hot, calling Chat jerks and telling them his shirt is red. Chat is skeptical. Tango wishes everyone a happy Monday and pushes out a video. He was waiting to put his video out until Pearl pushed hers out, and she pushed hers out just a few minutes ago. Tango tells everyone they can leave now and watch the video, which is “only” 51 minutes long. It’s a double video, stuff with him and Pearl, the copper farm, and hilarity with Tango and Zed. Today’s job is finishing the aquarium. He thanks the chat for subs and donos.

11:00 Tango makes some funny noises, explains that every time he messes up a take in the video, he just makes the cartoon noise and cuts it off. About 40% of his clips end with complete brain-farting. A chatter asks if he’s seen the League of Legends show. Tango doesn’t know much about it. Chat says it’s called Arcane, Tango says it sounds awesome.

12:00 Pearl appears and boops him, surprising him. He demands to know why he is being booped, Pearl tells him that she’s been standing around up above him but he didn’t notice her. He blames his powers of observation. Pearl offers him some apology redstone for the terrible timing of her video push. It seems like she was waiting for software that took a long time, but she dissolves into wailing before the full explanation is rendered. Tango assures her that it’s fine and tells her it’s a good video. He asks if she finished all the detailing and she tells him yes, it’s all done. Tango asks if he can take the chat over and play Wordle, and they make tentative plans for later. Pearl leaves.

13:40 A chatter asks Tango if he had fun in Zedaph’s hole, Tango says of course he did. Tango explains the water kitten aquarium he and Zed started. He is having a hard time making words happen today. Chat is alternately sympathetic and laughing at him. He goes to find more copper to put on the top of the aquarium. He says he has a new copper farm and it is working. A chatter asks about Wordle, Tango encourages them to go watch Pearl’s video, because Wordle is amazing. A chatter teases Tango about stream and video at the same time. Tango jokes that it’s always feast or famine with the Hermits. A chatter writes Tango a poem. Impulse is still sick after his vacation, but he had a great time.

17:20 Chat is still trying to figure out what color Tango’s shirt is. Suggestions include maroon and rust. Tango begins placing copper. Today’s challenge will be finding axolotls in the lush caves underground. Chat says Joel has some that can be bred, Tango says maybe, but an adventure might be more fun. He looks at the wheat farm and says he has 10 stacks of hay bales now. He consults with chat about details to add to the aquarium before putting axolotls in. Chat has lots of decorative ideas. A chatter suggests warped logs for the animation effect, Tango likes that idea. A chatter asks about Tango’s megabase this season, he says it is the steampunk factory. He also tells Chat that the copper farm will eventually have a steampunk airship built around it, something that the video audience doesn’t know yet.

21:50 Tango wants decorative and functional copper pipes in Minecraft. Chat suggests using lightning rods as pipes, but they are too thin. The Skizz scream noise goes off a a piglin dies to the extermination machine, Tango jokes that nobody even notices it anymore. He goes to get buckets. Chat reminds him to be very very careful not to waterlog the floor, which has farmers beneath it. He promises to be careful.

23:40 A chatter asks how he doesn’t take fall damage in his drop shaft, Tango explains the powdered-snow-under-carpet trick. In chat, Xisuma asks everyone to not go to the End Dimension. Tango begins placing water in the aquarium. Doc signs onto the server and X asks him specifically not to go to The End. Doc tells X he is already there, announces he is joking, and then asks why he needs to steer clear. Tango notices the exchange and says he doesn’t go to The End anyway, then suddenly realizes he kind of needs to get more shulkers and gear. X explains that he is currently moving mobs and Doc agrees to stay away.

26:30 Tango continues placing water and considers where to put the warped logs. Cub signs in, X asks him to not go to the end. Cub immediately makes the same joke about already being there. Xisuma yells “twice!” Doc laughs.

27:30 Tango places a patch of warped wood. He likes it. He heads on a quick nether adventure to get more. He asks chat about water kitten husbandry. Chat advises him that they can drown on land if given a place to get stuck. Tango finds a pillar someone made of warped logs all the way to the ceiling and decides to steal it. It’s a little terrifying. Someone mocks him for “being that guy” and leaving a single floating log. He says that nobody cares what the nether looks like anyway. He solicits fun ideas for a shroom shop from chat. Chat thinks it should be a mushroom or a warped tree. Someone suggests a shroom monster. Tango likes that, something like Treeza from S8. Pearl whispers that she would be willing to help, Tango says that would be great but he would just be watching slackjawed while she builds. She says if he teaches her redstone, she will teach him to build a monster. Tango thinks the monster needs to have a lot of puns involved, a pun name and a pun dispenser. Its name can be Fun Guy.

34:00 Chat suggests some more punny names, including Fun Gus and Mike the Myconid. Tango gets a bit lost on the way home, but makes it back to the nether hub. A chatter jokes about the monster having a warped sense of humor. Tango returns to the aquarium to place more warped logs while chat puns at him. He is now excited about building the shop. Next episode might not even take 16 days!

36:30 Tango checks the wheat farm, no flooding yet. He returns to placing water. Chat is upset that one piece of warped wood is out of alignment. Tango does not care. He finds a deep hole and wonders what is down there. He jumps down the hole and declares spoilers for the video that just came out. There is a hole in the bedrock going into the void. He leaves it open in case Zed comes over to visit.

40:00 More water placement. A chatter suggests hanging a fox with a torch in the void as a dynamic light source. . Tango likes that idea. The aquarium is starting to get very dark. A chatter asks what water kittens are. Tango explains they are axolotls, but calling them water kittens is more fun.

42:50 Tango needs sea pickles. He makes a graceless exit from the tank and looks for his sea pickles. He remembers he was going to add a few oxidized grates for steampunk style. Grates can be waterlogged without looking stupid. He puts away some water buckets. Mrs. T appears and asks what he’s doing. He says he is making a tank, she asks if it will have a pineapple in it. He says Gem makes the pineapples, not him. He begins placing sea pickles. She asks if there are other colors of sea pickles. He says no, but he could place coral. She wants pink coral. He is not shocked about this. He offers to put in a pink axolotl for her. She asks if that’s even a question. He shows her the copper grates and says it’s a grate idea.

45:15 Tango starts to tell Mrs. T about the shroomlight farm idea, but her lunch is ready and she leaves to get it. He places more grates into a sort of pipe structure and asks Chat if they like it. Mrs. T comes back and asks what the grates are for. He says for steampunk reasons. The vote goes against the grates. He tells Mrs. T about the shroomlight shop and all the puns. She is in favor of it, but in the “being supportive of my spouse” sort of way. She suggests “Shitake the Fun Guy” as a name. A chatter asks who Tango is talking to. He welcomes the chatter to the stream. Tango finishes “Watering up his hole.” Mrs. T sighs. Tango says if she wants more of that humor, watch the new video. She says ain’t nobody got time for a 51-minute video.

49:00 Tango waters the hole. He gets very close to finishing before flooding the outside of the tank. He decides not to waterlog the ceiling. Time for decorations. Mrs. T says to call her when it’s time to show off the kittens. Tango needs more pickles because the tank is still very dark. Chat suggests glow lichen. Tango goes to look for glow lichen. Chat cannot spell lichen for love or money. Tango does not have any glow lichen. He thinks about using froglights. Chat suggests robbing Skizz, but the problem with robbing Skizz is you can’t find anything.

53:00 Tango attempts to rob Skizz, going one chest at a time. He finds some moss , but the lichen may be out by the pyramid. Impulse signs onto the server. Tango finds some twisted vines, but they cannot be waterlogged. He finds a squid head and some vines. He goes to look in the pyramid chests and finds glow lichen. He steals all of it. He finds a Tango head. Chat suggests leaving one lichen behind so Skizz can bonemeal it. Tango agrees that would be considerate, but does not do so.

56:30 Tango returns to the aquarium and learns that you cannot waterlog heads. He adds lichen to the tank. Chat suggests a head on an armor stand, but Tango thinks that’s a lot of work. The lichen doesn’t seem to be adding much to the brightness. He tries a twisted vine, but it does not waterlog. He accuses the vines of hating fun. He places and bonemeals some kelp. Tango asks about who sells coral, Chat tells him Gem. He says he should buy Gem out because it will make her happy. He starts to drown. He finishes kelping and says he will snip the kelp down to size later. He also thinks about placing a wet sponge.

1:00:00 Tango’s phone rings with its boomer ringtone. He hands the phone to Mrs. T and tells her to change his ringtone. She agrees cheerfully. Tango thinks they may be done building the tank. Chat reminds him to get the coral. Mrs. T shames Tango for having two “Settings” buttons on the first page of his phone, one line apart. He says when one has his powers of observation, one must adapt to it. He heads for the coral shop.

1:02:00 Mrs T begins cycling through ringtones. Chat says each is more boomer than the last. Tango finds the coral shop. Chat suggests using the Skizzle Scream a a ringtone, Tango says that would be great in public. Tango decides he doesn’t want coral blocks, only coral fans. Chat starts making jokes about Onlyfans. He buys several colors of coral, including pink, and says since Gem doesn’t have an ender chest, he doesn’t have to pay. He pays.

1:05:00 More ringtones. Tango assures Mrs. T that chat is really enjoying this. Tango flies to Two Tek Delay and checks his stock. He doesn’t think he’s sold any pistons yet. He needs to do some restocking. He heads back to his factory, showing Mrs. T the giant firework along the way. He explains how much work it was, how many temporary blocks. Chat points out that Scar would do it too. Tango agrees, but says he wouldn’t do it. It’s almost water kitten time.

1:07:50 Tango puts pink coral in the tank to appease Mrs. T. She wants other kinds of pink coral, the kind that is not so flat. He asks how she knows more about coral than him. The tank is so full there is almost no room for more decorations. Chat says he needs yellow coral. He leaves the tank and looks in. The coral is invisible. Chat says the blue glass was a bad idea. Tango blames chat for choosing blue glass in the first place. He says they can swap it out, but for what color? Chat wants clear glass.

1:11:00 Tango puts his coral and other decorations away. He finds clear glass and says this is going to be an interesting swap. He also grabs shears for the kelp. Chat wants a sponge, he says he will go back for it later. He trims the kelp in the tank to stop it growing. Grian signs on, Chat is excited. Tango begins carefully and quickly replacing the glass piece-by-piece. He predicts that the next thing Chat will demand is the Connected Glass resource pack. Chat agrees that he definitely should get that. He steps back to look at the first few rows and admits that the unconnected glass does look pretty bad. HE says he may do that next. He says he doesn’t like using things that will make things look nice for him but bad for others who visit. Chat points out that everyone else is already using connected textures. Chat is not sure about what the best way is to get connected textures. Tango says Chat is always right and never right, and his job is to sort out the consensus. A chatter says the blue glass was better.

1:17:30 Tango continues discussing datapacks versus modpacks with chat. Tango pauses the game to go choose a datapack that will give him connected glass. Chat helps him navigate the menus. He finds Unobtrusive and selects several glass options. He downloads the pack and implements it. Chat is mildly concerned that clean borderless glass will be invisible. The world renders back in with little stripes on the glass but no borders. Chat says clean and borderless are not compatible. Tango can live with it. Chat likes it. He and chat continue discussing the possibilities of resource-pack altered glass.

1:22:50 It’s water kitten time! Chat reminds him again about the sponge. Tango finds some wet sponges in his ender chest and places two in the aquarium. He thanks the chat for donos and subs. Tango is excited about a new version of Clank coming out. He looks at the tank and is satisfied. Chat is full of suggestions for armor stand scuba divers, shipwrecks and treasure chests. Tango says he might get Cleo to do an armor stand. He asks for how to breed water kittens and tells chat that the plan is to try and find wild ones, give up after five half-hearted minutes, then go breed Joel’s.

1:28:30 The adventure begins. Tango flies around looking for azalea trees. He realizes he’s forgotten an ender chest and goes to steal one from Zed. Zed does not have one. Tango figures maybe he won’t need one. In chat, Pearl warns Tango that the lush caves nearby kinda suck. Chat is full of advice on finding lush caves. Tango admires Scar’s portal as he flies by. He finds Jevin’s head farm and is confused by it.

1:32:50 Tango realizes that the other thing he forgot is a bed. Impulse sleeps, averting a crisis. Tango finds a tall hill with cherry trees on top and calls it Magic Mountain 2.0. It is already hollow, meaning the Magic Mountain crew could’ve saved a lot of time if they started with this one. Chat says it’s time to relocate. Tango finds a pillager outpost and releases the iron golem just for chaos’ sake. More flying, more looking for azaleas, more getting lost-ish. Tango realizes that without his ender chest, running out of rockets could be a serious problem. Chat spots an azalea tree, but the stream delay makes things difficult.

1:38:20 Unable to find what Chat says they saw, Tango flies onward. He looks around in a spruce and ice biome for a little while, then decides that the rocket situation is too precarious and he should head home.

1:40:00 Tango spots an azalea, and a lush biome that starts on the surface. He notes down the coords and begins to dig, harvesting the rooted dirt. The hole opens into a lush cave canyon. Tango goes exploring.

1:43:20 Chat notes that this is not a very good lush cave. Tango agrees. He fails at some parkour and makes a joke about 39th place skills. He starts digging down further, following the rooted dirt. Tango really wishes he brought his ender chest. The hole opens into a much better cave, except it is full of hostile mobs. Tango flees. He also did not bring a bow.

1:46:30 Tango predicts that he will die down here and it will be horrible. He updates his coords. He remembers that he forgot a totem of undying. He is surprised he hasn’t seen any water kittens. Chat informs him that they have seen some. A chatter helpfully tells him they look like pink lizards. Tango begin clearing out the hostile mobs to help the mob cap and increase his chances of survival.

1:51:00 Tango catches his first water kitten, a color that is hard to pin down but is probably pink. There is great rejoicing. Pearl is stream-sniping and cheers along in game chat. He catches a second one, a brown one, and asks chat if they should go for more. Chat says he should get more colors if he can.

1:55:00 Tango searches fruitlessly for several more minutes. Chat contemplates how nice it would be to have a bow. They suggest that Tango should collect small dripleaf. Tango says he doesn’t even know what that is. Chat says it is dripleaf that is small.

1:56:40 Tango finally hits the axolotl jackpot and finds a whole family group. He is very excited because one of them is pink. He catches a pink one, gets jump scared by a spider, then catches two yellows and another pink. The last yellow baby gives him a run for his money, but eventually gets bucketed. He celebrates his 39th place skills.

1:57:30 Time to go home, but how? Tango begins working his way out of the cave with gravel, sparing use of rockets, and digging straight up.

1:59:40 Tango reaches the surface and rejoices. He is right on the edge of Joe’s build. He pokes around the build, looking for a portal. Chat directs him to one and he gets to take a shortcut home. Back at the factory, he puts away the rooted dirt and other goodies he collected. Chat wants him to name the water kittens, but confesses that they will not despawn if not named. Chat convinces him to name them for fun. Tango is disappointed that there is no way to know the color while they are in the buckets. Chat is full of name ideas. He names the water kittens Swim Shady, Pumpkin, Hockey Puck, 39th Place, Water Smitten, and Swimpulse.

2:06:30 Tango releases the water kittens into the tank. Swimpulse is pink. He asks if they will jump out, then covers the hole to prevent it. He looks at the tank and is pleased. The tank looks good. Chat is very happy.

2:08:20 Tango hears a fart noise. He checks to see if Skizzleman is on the server. He is not, but Chat confirms they heard the fart. Tango begins searching for the farter. Scar drops down the elevator and says hello. He claims he had nothing to do with any backend exhaustion. He is the burper, not the farter. Tango suggests he must’ve burped on the wrong end. Scar says again that it wasn’t him, and that he came out to compliment Tango on his ask-a-lottles. Tango proudly shows off the tank. Scar offers to thin the herd if needed, but Tango says he’s going to grow the herd instead. Scar asks if it is possible to breed axolotls, and Tango explains yes, they do it by ripping Nemo to shreds. Scar thinks that is cool.

2:10:20 Scar and Tango have a conversation about connected and clean glass textures Scar has the same pack that Tango does. They both think that the stripes are just too white. Scar says it’s better now than it used to be, when glass was really terrible. He made his own texture pack back in the day that smoothed wool and wood, cleaned glass, and made mushrooms bigger. Scar suggests that maybe the tank needs a turtle or a dolphin, and says that he could help with that. Tango likes the idea of a turtle. He asks if Scar can deliver one. Scar says he can deliver anything, with a 50% chance of it being alive on delivery.

2:12:45 Scar is distracted from the turtle conversation when he catches a glimpse of the factory’s object-moving infrastructure. He is fascinated by the way that the blocks bob up and down “Willy Wonka style”. Tango admits that it’s just lag, probably because Doc’s on. Scar asks if Doc is still on a rampage about his stolen diamonds. Tango says he doesn’t know, but they agree that it’s pretty funny Doc is mad about stolen diamonds when he literally uses diamond ore for building blocks. They both hope that whoever the diamond bandit is, they keep going and take more. Tango implies that maybe Scar was the culprit all along, but Scar insists it was not him. He has to stay on Doc’s good side now because of his many crimes against the guy in Season 9. He remembers the tunnel bore disaster, where Grian banged and then he banged and there was a whole lot of banging and in the end he had to hide in a toilet.

2:15:10 Tango asks if Scar wants to do something dangerous. Scar immediately says yes. “Like really dangerous?” Tango presses. Scar nods. Tango tells Scar to follow him. He leads Scar over to the hole. Scar asks if this is where Decked Out 3 is. Tango confirms it totally is Decked Out 3. Scar looks down the hole and asks where it goes. Tango encourages him to drop down and Scar does, using his elytra for a soft fall down the two-wide hole. Tango follows, expecting Scar to have fallen into the void, but find him two blocks away in a two-deep hole in the bedrock. Tango tells him he missed. Scar gets himself out of the hole and immediately falls into another one. He climbs out, says “Jeez, there’s holes everywhere!” and instantly falls into the void hole. Tango cackles madly.

2:16:10 Tango freecams into the void and finds Scar rocketing around under the bedrock, calling for him and looking for the hole. Tango encourages him to “follow the sheep!” Scar makes several passes by the hole before managing to find it and shoot through it. Tango cheers and pops back into his body just in time for Scar to die of experiencing kinetic energy. Tango tries to figure out where Scar’s bits went. He uses freecam to search up to farm level, where he finds Skizzleman wandering around the edge of the hole. Chat informs him that Skizz (who is also streaming) has collected Scar’s things.

2:18:20 Tango flies up the shaft and finds some of Scar’s things at the top of the hole. He also finds Scar, who bounds over yelling “THIS IS A HELL-HOLE MURDER CHAMBER!” Tango compliments Scar on doing a great job getting out of the void. Apparently falling into the void resurrected all sorts of traumatic Season 8 memories of being thrown down the Boatem Hole. Skizz is nowhere to be seen at this point. Scar asks where the rest of his stuff is. Tango says he doesn’t know, but that he suspects there is someone else around here. Scar threatens to shove an askalottle in their face. He jumps back down to the hole and asks if he flew all the way up here, even as Skizz makes an appearance. He is wearing Scar’s hat and giggling.

2:19:10 Scar greets Skizz as “Skizzie-lizzie!” then asked Tango if he really flew all the way up that hole. Skizz thanks Scar, telling him that he has been streaming for seven seconds and he already has what might be the best blooper reel moment ever. He explains that he was sneaking up on Tango and happened to turn around just in time to see Scar for a tenth of a second before he exploded. Skizz returns Scar’s things to him, telling him that he made himself into a chest to collect Scar’s stuff for him. Scar, who is digging in his ender chest, suddenly realizes that he has found “The Flatulenster” who was making the fart noise earlier. Tango laughs. Scar confronts Skizz, who tells Scar to put his ender chest back on the ground and open it, then look for the “thank you” he owes Skizz. Tango points out that Skizz was not online when the fart occurred.

2:20:30 Scar thanks Skizz for saving his things and apologizes for fart-accusing him. Skizz doesn’t even know what Scar is talking about. Scar proceeds to tell Skizz the tragic tale of his visit to Tango where he just wanted to compliment some asskalottles and was accused of a fart he did not commit. Skizz commiserates, saying that the same thing happened the last time he streamed with Tango, and that he suspects it is Tango’s fault and/or imagination. Tango insists that his chat heard the fart too. ((The fart noise is audible on VOD review.)) Scar says they need Mrs. T to confirm that Tango is a fart-denyer.

2:21:50 Skizz is still wondering why Scar exploded. Tango explains it’s because he jumped down the hole. Scar leads Skizz over to the hole and encourages him to jump down, saying it’s fun. He tells Skizz that it is cool, and the reason that he died was because he came up too fast and had an accident. Skizz leans over the edge for a better look and Scar, in the least surprising act of Betrayal-By-Scar since The Lion King, kicks him down the hole. Skizz yells and begins attempting to rocket out of the hole with limited success. Scar insists he needs to go _down_ the hole, it’s super fun! Skizz manages to escape the hole and says no, because he doesn’t want to die. Tango and Scar assure him he won’t die (if he’s competent, Tango adds parenthetically.)

2:22:40 Resigned, Skizz asks if there’s a side he needs to jump down, then flings himself into the hole. He does a perfect full-send fall, right into the void, and falls out of the world. Tango shrieks in horrified delight. Scar calls down the hole that he feels bad now. In chat, False says “oof.” Tango demands to know why Skizz didn’t deploy his wings. “He would never have survived Boatem,” Scar observes dolefully.

2:23:10 Tango sees that Skizz is not in a group for chatting and opens in-game chat. “dude. for real. wings.” he types. “YOU HAVE THEM” Scar adds. Tango does not understand why Skizz did not just press space bar. False pipes up in in-game chat: “It’s Skizz, this is on you guys. :p” Tango says he can’t even feel guilty because he just doesn’t understand. Scar highlights a comment from Skizz’s chat about “40th place skills.” Impulse says that False is right. Skizz leaves the game, to howls from Scar and Tango. They decide that they will have to assemble a care basket for Skizz to help him replace all his lost bits. Skizz rejoins the game.

2:24:15 Tango and Scar leave the hole. Scar can’t believe that Decked Out 3 is down there somewhere. The pair begin digging through their things to find stuff for Skizz. Scar says he will give Skizz a special pair of wings. Tango asks if they will auto-deploy. Skizz reappears, naked but for an elytra, and tells them to gather round and shut up. He tells them that he is going to give them a list of what they owe him, and that it’s coming back. Tango, barely able to talk from laughing, asks if he owes Skizz a space bar. Cause if that’s broken, he will definitely get Skizz a new one. Skizz stutters, then screeches “SHUT UPPP!” Tango loses it. Skizz tells them that he fell into the void and rocketed upwards “like a beast” but it wasn’t happening because he was falling AT TERMINAL VELOCITY, JERK. He demands to know why that hole is there, it makes no sense! (“That’s what she said,” mutters Scar.)

2:25:50 Scar asks why Skizz didn’t use his space bar to deploy his elytra. Skizz protests that he did, and that the first time he left the hole they gave him a bunch of static about how he was supposed to go down the hole. He thought that the little black square at the bottom of the hole was carpet. By the time he realized he was in the void, he was too deep to rocket out. Tango presents Skizz with an elytra named “Spacebar” and tells him that might help him next time. Skizz sighs. He tells Scar and Tango that the bow he had on him was a top-shelf bow, his only good bow of the season, and it was a gift from Grian. He also says his axe was amazing and it’s gone. Scar, who has been yawning through this, tells Skizz to stop complaining and they’ll work it out. Tango tells Skzz they’ll make him a care package. Skizz tells them he ALSO had a briefcase of five thousand dollars. Scar tries to give Skizz the HotGuy bow, but Skizz can’t accept that, so Scar tells him he’ll make him a “Hot-something” bow. Tango begins working up some enchanted diamond armor with the armor and books he has in his storage. Skizz claims that he’s not even complaining, he’s just stating something that happened, and it’s that his friends were JERKS. Offscreen, Scar opens a shulker box and tells Skizz to grab a pickaxe. Skizz sounds a little intimidated as he asks Scar why he has so much awesome stuff. Scar says it’s because he is awesome. Tango creates “Boots of Speed Falling.”

2:28:15 Tango gives the boots to Skizz, who gets a pair of pickaxes from Scar as well. Skizz is starting to feel like he’s making out pretty well. Scar tells the story of the time he lost his shovel in the mail system and Tango replaced it with a vastly inferior shovel. Tango disputes the veracity of the story. Skizz wants to know when he gets his bow. Scar tells him he’s going to make it, and that it will be a HotGuy bow with a different name. Skizz assumes it’s going to be Spacebar again. He demands to know why Tango didn’t tell him what was down the hole. Tango points out that if he had, Skizz wouldn’t have jumped. He just assumed that Skizz would have plenty of time to react during the eight full seconds it takes to fall into the void with wings.

2:29:20 Skizz says he’s gonna do it again. Tango tells him he won’t remiburse him this time. Skizz says he knows, he’s going to use his unenchanted wings and make Tango hold the good ones. Tango offers him rockets. Skizz waffles a little about doing it. Tango encourages him. ((Scar is mostly still and silent during this period because he is mocking Skizz on Twitter.)) Skizz approaches the elevator drop shaft and worries he’s going to lose his wings here. Tango tells him to take his boots off, at least. Skizz says he’s going to take it all off. “I bet you are,” says Tango, kicking him down the drop shaft. Skizz screams “STOP IT!” as he falls. Tango follows him. He attempts to prank the shaft and kill Scar, but is a second too slow. Scar plays the Inside Joke horn.

2:30:50 Skizz goes to unequip himself and tries to get Scar to put down an ender chest. Scar eventually puts one down. Tango tells Skizz that the real challenge is to fly to Zed’s base through the void. He tells Skizz that Zed has a big hole and he just needs to head west. There will be a pink sheep to light the way. Skizz doesn’t realize that it’s possible to survive in the void long enough to fly anywhere, drawing derision from Void Veteran Tango. Scar says he gets it, Zed and Tango are setting up a hole-to-hole network the way that there is a crack-to-crack network in Magic Mountain. Tango confirms this is exactly correct. Scar complains that the crack network is all hype and no substance, he wants to join the hole network. Skizz suggests that Tango should go with him on the trip, but Tango says he needs to go to Zed’s and make sure his hole is ready to accept. The recapper is very upset. Chat is beside themselves.

2:32:30 Tango heads for Zed’s base while giving Skizz travel advice. Skizz needs to turn on hitboxes so he will see the sheep better and fly due west. Scar doesn’t know what Due means and demands and explanation. Tango confirms that the hole is very much open. Skizz cackles, and Tango says he really needs to watch Tango’s new episode. Skizz reiterates that he can’t believe they let him die. Scar points out that Skizz kinda let himself die. Skizz disagreed, saying he got himself out of the hole and they told him to get back in there. Tango tells him to get in the hole. He and the Chat experience the radio play version of Scar leading Skizz back to the hole into the void. Skizz asks if Scar will do it too. Scar yawns and says no, he has all his stuff on him, then says fine. Skizz is pleased. Tango freecams into the void to watch while Scar and Skizz prep for the jump.

2:34:45 Skizz announces that he is going. “I’m going. I’m Going. I’M GOOIIIINNNG!” he yells. He immediately dies by falling from a high place. Tango puts his face in his hand. Skizz declares that the thing is stupid. Scar declares that he is going and yells his way down the hole, ending with a disappointed groan. He has popped his totem. He dives into the hole anyway and quickly becomes visible to Tango, who attempts to guide him in. Scar heads for Tango and the safety of Zedaph’s base while treating him and the Chat to a barrage of perhaps the most atrocious phrasing in the history of accidental dirty talk. He escapes the void and immediately dies of kinetic energy again.

2:36:00 Skizz demands another pair of wings so he can get back to the hole again. Tango demands to know how many wings Skizz could possibly need. Scar asks Tango to collect up his bits because he has suddenly realized he needs to go. Tango collects Scar’s possessions where they are scattered across the bedrock. Skizz interrupts and demands attention to say that he demands somebody do something. Scar tells him the adults are talking. He asks Tango to pack up his wings and rockets for him and Tango confirms he has them. Skizz says this base is dumb and he hates it. Scar leaves. Skizz tells Tango he needs to collect his wings from the edge of the hole before they despawn. Tango heads back to his base to get the wings, arguing with Skizz the whole time.

2:37:40 Tango jumps down the hole, successfully deploying his elytra for a soft fall. The wings are not there. Skizz tells him to look harder. Tango freecams and looks around, but there are no wings. They argue about the wings for a few minutes, and then about the deployment of Skizz’s spacebar and how he possibly could’ve died if he was flying correctly. Skizz wants his wings so he can try again. Tango asks rhetorically what Skizz wants him to do as he begins to ascend the hole. Skizz says he wants Tango to catch him and jumps in the hole. He falls past Tango and dies from a high-place fall. Tango arrives at the top of the hole and sings a bar of “Strangers in the Night.” Skizz says “Whatever” and starts talking about how he was throwing dice in the alley. Tango has no idea what’s going on and asks Skizz if he’s been drinking. Skizz says no, and Tango suggests that maybe he should. Skizz tries to explain that he was channeling the United States of Whatever. Impulse drops down the elevator shaft.

2:40:10 Tango informs Skizz they have a guest, then moon lands at Impulse until he joins the group and says hello. Tango cheers that Impulse is back from the dead, though still kind of dead. Impulse sounds pretty rough, but says he came over because he found something. He asks where Skizz is, but Tango doesn’t know. Skizz killed himself to get back to his base quicker, but is on his way back. He comes down the drop chute, and Tango doesn’t have the heart to sabotage him. Impulse presents Skizz with an enchanted elytra. It is also called Spacebar. Tango is confused and asks Impulse if he found them, and how. Impulse said he was in the void and caught them. He is clearly lying. Tango says now Skizz has two spacebars, and he is probably going to need them with the way he flies. Skizz agrees, because he is probably going to spend one now on another attempt.

2:42:00 Skizz begins quizzing Tango on what he does to successfully jump down the hole. Tango’s answers are not entirely helpful, probably because Tango is so used to elytra flying that some things are muscle memory. Skizz challenges him to jump down the hole and not deploy the wings until he is in the void. Tango tries to push Tango down the hole again and Skizz yells at him that he is naughty. Tango refuses to take the challenge. Impulse admits that the wings he gave Skizz were a pair of Scar’s wings he found one day and kept. Skizz is okay with that. Tango asks Impulse how he’s doing. Impulse is still not feeling good. Skizz tells him there’s something down this hole over here that will help with that. His attempt to fool Impulse rapidly derails into a retelling of his own story of hole-related woe, and Impulse is not convinced.

2:44:20 Tango tells Impulse he named a water kitten after him. He opens up the aquarium and lets Impulse jump in to meet Swimpulse. Impulse is charmed and admits he thought it was going to be something rude. Impulse decides he will try to get through the hole-to-hole connection. Skizz is offended that Tango cares about Impulse being set up properly, when he just kicked Skizz down the hole. Impulse points out that Skizz should’ve known he was in for something, being as how this is Hermitcraft. Skizz, mimicking Tango, asks Impulse if he wants some soup. Impulse actually would like some soup. Tango notices Scar’s tweet and dissolves into laughter. Skizz and Impulse both laugh too. Tango goes and finds Impulse a bed. Skizz continues complaining.

2:47:45 Impulse sets his spawn. Tango directs him to the hole, and then he and Skizz head for Zedaph’s base. Skizz nearly falls into Zed’s hole. Impulse falls from a high place. He loses his elytra. Tango apologizes for his defective hole. Impulse falls out of the world. It was tactical.

2:51:40 Impulse tries again. He makes it down into the void and heads for Zed’s hole. He flies cleanly up into it and survives, then immediately says “I’m going back” and dives into the void. Tango follows him and immediately gets lost. He figures out where he is and somehow smashes himself into the space one block above the void. Skizz, who is too afraid to jump into the hole, demands an ender chest so he can put his wings away. Tango invites both of them to join the hole network.

2:53:00 Tango and Impulse have a conversation about hole architectural improvements while Skizz goes on in the background about all the cool stuff he has and doesn’t want to lose by jumping into the void. He asks where they are. Tango says they are at his hole. Skizz says they can’t be at his hole, he is at Tango’s hole, then realizes he is at Zed’s hole. Impulse tells him to get his holes right. Impulse does a clean free-fall from the top of Tango’s hole into the void and catches himself with a rocket. Impulse calls it exhilarating. Skizz finds a box to put his stuff in and prepares to jump again. Chat says this is why women live longer than men. Tango agrees. Skizz jumps in the hole. He realizes he is using exploding fireworks moments before he dies of being exploded.

2:57:00 Skizz respawns at his own base. He tells Tango he owes him more wings. Tango just laughs at him. Skizz realizes he stashed his gear in Zed’s fireworks box and accidentally picked up a stack of Zed’s fireworks instead of his own rockets. He tells the others that he has a problem because now he has to keep trying until he succeeds. Tango points out that he’s going to run out of wings fairly quickly at this rate. Skizz tells him to shut up, he has to believe. Tango asks what they can do to help. Skizz asks Impulse to get his stuff from Zed’s place, because he needs wings and rockets. Tango starts laughing all over again about the exploding fireworks thing. Tango asks if this means Skizz also dumped a whole stack of Zed’s (very expensive) custom fireworks down the void too. Skizz says of course it does.

2:59:20 Skizz decides to make another attempt at the hole. Tango and chat are just listening to the drama unfold at this point. Impulse jumps down the hole and flies over to Zed’s place through the void. His casual flexing at this point cannot be overstated. A chatter posts a clip of Skizz’s firework-enabled demise from Skizz’s POV. Tango watches it with great delight, treating chat to a reprise of Skizz’s screaming. He compliments Skizz on his amazing death and they discuss the thought process that goes through one’s head when one is flying in the void with half a heart left and nothing but exploding fireworks. Impulse arrives at Zed’s and finds Skizz to help him ready up for another attempt, notably by making sure he has flight rockets. Tango’s chat is empathizing with Skizz’s chat in the clip, who clearly knew that Skizz had taken the wrong fireworks and were trying to warn him.

3:00:30 Another attempt is made. Skizz was not ready, but successfully dives into the void. Tango watches the Void from freecam and encourages him to follow the dangling sheep. Skizz and Impulse successfully make the flight from Zed’s hole to Tango’s. Tango congratulates him, then says it’s actually fairly low-risk. Skizz asks if he’s maybe considered making it a bigger hole. Tango says he thinks the hole network should be everyone’s normal means of traveling. Skizz asks about the sheep on the lead, Tango describes the process of dangling a sheep in the void. Skizz realizes he left his stuff at Zed’s house. Tango encourages him to go back to Zed’s house the cool way, but Skizz is extremely reluctant. Tango jumps into the hole and goes to Zed’s house. Skizz and Impulse go the uncool way.

3:05:15 Impulse, Skizz and Tango look at Zed’s contraptions, playing with the elevator and the enchanting table game. Skizz asks how the enchanting game works, Imp and Tango explain very badly. Skizz plays with the game for a few minutes and realizes that the only reward is the ability to enchant one’s items. Tango asks Skizz if he needs anything replaces from his adventures, but Skizz says Tango and Scar fixed him up. They agree that it was a very funny adventure and Tango leaves. Impulse says he will stay behind to fix the enchanting game, which is now mysteriously broken.

3:09:30 Tango returns to the factory. He agrees with Chat that his face hurts from laughing so much. He summarizes the accomplishments of the day and tells Chat that the VOD will be uploaded soon. He reminds Chat that his new video is also up now. He thanks Chat and raids into Skizzleman, then ends his stream.

[octuscle]

Please help me, support. All my mates are in the football team but I missed out because apparently I’m too skinny and nerdy. I need to show them all. I’ll give anything, take my smarts, my hair, whatever - just make me a jock beast they’ll all envy.

I love getting a free ride. I can do anything with you? Fear you!

Consuela has just said goodbye. Until your parents come home, you'll have the beach house in Easthampton all to yourself. And that could be tomorrow morning too, if your father is too busy at the office and your mother at the surgery. You like the weekends before the official start of the season on Long Island. It's quiet, the sea is wild… Perfect for sitting in your study, watching the seagulls and working on your Bachelor's thesis. It's starting to get dark outside. You turn on the light. Your reflection in the window pane. A beanstalk with a 180-dollar haircut. Football player? What an absurd idea!

Almost as absurd as reading the latest issue of Gridiron Magazine at your desk. You throw yourself on your bed and flip through the pages. From outside on the street, you can hear the noise of the trucks rolling past. Supplies for the sawmill. Your father is one of the guys who take the logs from the harvesters in the mountains and then drive them down to the river. When he can, he takes a break at your mother's diner. She makes the best pancakes in the county. Shit, if your father knew you were lying here on the bed jerking off to the pictures of the quarterbacks, he'd beat the shit out of you. Although… You mean you once caught him in the cab of his truck with a coworker. Your dad said that they were just listening to a football game on the radio together. But you never understood why your father had dropped his pants.

Your smartphone answers. Time for the protein shake. You go down to the kitchen and take one of the large canisters of powder from the shelf. You consume a lot of protein here in the house. Your dad used to be a legend at his high school. And he's still a beast of a man. You flex your biceps and look at yourself in the kitchen window. Poor old man. By now he's getting the short end of the stick. No idea when your parents will be home. It's almost 9pm. The stream of trucks in front of the house continues. You go for another round of bench presses in the garage. And then you go to bed. Tomorrow starts early again.

You had an early shift at the sawmill. That's what you like best. Out of bed at 04:00, a run, eight hours of hard work. And then training with the boys at 15:00. Of course you could have finished high school. But what good would that have done you? You have your own trailer, your own Dodge. And you're the star of the football team here in the village. You couldn't have asked for more in life.

[galvanizedfriend]

Fic: The Unexpected Grace of Falling Apart

Summary: AH/AU. It's Tyler's wedding weekend and Caroline is back in Mystic Falls for the first time after the most traumatic and depressing year of her life. And it's about to get even worse as she's made to share breathing space with Klaus, The Worst Guy Ever. Except they might have to join forces to save the wedding, and to the discovery that things might not be what the seem. As Caroline teeters on the edge of a breakdown she'd been trying very hard to conceal, an unexpected savior appears to help her through the haze.

---

About a year ago, Caroline met the worst guy ever.

No, really. The Worst.

Men are, as a general rule, pigs. If women were to make in-depth pro-versus-cons evaluations of every guy they met before deciding on whether to hook up with them or not - well. Let's just say the perpetuation of the human species would be in serious jeopardy.

There's only a handful of guys out there of a certain age, still single, who are really worth any woman's time, and Caroline hasn't had the pleasure of meeting many representatives of that rare, dying breed. Those are the real-life unicorns.

It doesn't help that Caroline seems to be a walking magnet for the dudebro kind. She doesn't know what it is about her that gets them to crawl out of sewers and holes in hell to greet her with their Hey there, gorgeous or Have I died and gone to heaven?s whenever she walks into a bar. It's probably the blonde hair. Men tend to get friskier around blonde women for some ancient misogynistic reason.

There have been moments in her life where her faith in the male half of humanity was so deeply shaken that she even - God forbid her - considered going a few shades darker. She's a natural blonde, though, and it takes her hours (and a small fortune) every few months at her colorist's chair to achieve that perfect sweet spot between kissed by sunshine and blessed by the angels for her to commit that crime against herself. Caroline's hair is the one part of her life that has remained absolutely flawless even when everything else around her has fallen apart, including her mental health and self-esteem. She refuses to dye it just because men can't bother to put some honest effort into updating their lame pick-up lines and yet, somehow, still expect her to have sex with them.

And the sad truth is, catch her on a bad night, and she just might. Horny melancholy is where a woman’s dignity goes to die.

It's exhausting to be a twenty-something woman in the XXI century. There's the pressure of making it in this godforsaken world as an adult, there's the pressure from society's understanding that a woman of her age should be looking for serious commitment with marriage in sight, and then there's also the pressure that stems from the very human needs of her hormonal body. It's a jungle out there.

Things would be so much easier if she didn't need men at all, not even for the specific parts of their anatomy that appeal to her. She really hopes next life brings her back as anything other than straight.

In the meantime, in this lifetime... The Worst Guy.

Caroline has met her fair share of jerks and idiots of all shapes and colors, so it takes something really special to shock her. As a seasoned woman in the woes of the dating market, she can 100% state that this guy is no ordinary asshole. This is a king among douchebags. And that's not just her personal opinion; she has shared the evidence with all her friends, and the friends of her friends, and all the women at her work, and even some random people at powder rooms at bars and parties. Basically, every woman in New York's grapevine who was willing to listen.

The collective response to her tale is always a disgusted gag sound, followed by Please, tell me you punched that son of a bitch or Did you gouge his eyes out with a hot poker?

If you discount abusive, aggressive and violent men, who are criminals and not in the same category as everyday lame-ass men, he really is The Worst.

Caroline doesn't like to say she's not over it yet because it implies bestowing a level of importance to His Royal Dickshness that is not merited. The guy was a friend of a friend - her best friend, yes, but still only a notch above a complete stranger. She’d known him for less than a week and, technically, they did no more than make out for a little bit, so it's not like they had any kind of relationship going on. He's not important, just some guy who did something astoundingly douchebaggy, even by someone whose standards are sadly low.

The whole incident was bound to go down as a funny anecdote to be shared among friends, a Oh, you think you've had the worst hook-up ever? Hold my beer kind of story. Provided, of course, that she never had to see him ever and could just wipe him out of her life and memory for good. Given that they live in different time zones, it shouldn't be too much of a hassle.

That is precisely why Caroline is livid when she emerges from the arrivals area at Richmond airport to find Douchebag, in the flesh - sunglasses indoors and all, like the proper jerk that he is - holding up a sign that reads Clarisse.

Read the full story here

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For four years, this was known as Random Fic, and so if you have been following me here, you might have heard me whine about it at some point. I've just decided on the title ten minutes ago. lol I can't believe this is finally done!

Thank you @definedareasofuncertainty for hearing me talk about this for almost as long as you've known me and never telling me to shut up.

As always, your kudos, comments and reblogs mean the world and have been feeding my fic-writing soul for four years so that I could get a grip and round this up. ❤️ Ty and if you read it, hope you enjoy it!

[super-ion]

So I've spent quite a bit of mental energy the last couple days on character creation for an upcoming Pathfinder game (as I do). So of course, in true Char fashion I had to throw a drabble together to get into her head (directly inspired by a scene by @the-sword-lesbian for her character).

She's a half orc inventor with a fighter flavor. She's 6'6" and built like a tank. She's a nerd with special interests. Her dump stats are wis and cha.

***

They spot her in the back of the seedy tavern. She's hunched over a table surrounded by an array of incomprehensible tools. Half a meal sits forgotten on the edge of the table. Her brow is furrowed in concentration and she chews on her bottom lip as her fingers work at the clockwork before her.

The lead bounty hunter casts a look at the barkeep, who frowns and disappears into the kitchen. A few of the more observant patrons clear out and the remainder soon follow.

Not her though, she's too busy. She is absolutely completely focused at the task at hand.

She's big, she is half orc after all, but she has a roundness to her cheeks, a softness in her shoulders. She has a few faint scars, maybe broke her nose once, but that all might just be from lab accidents. She gives off the air of an academic type, some well fed student who got too many ideas about adventure in her head.

“Akhana Greystone?”

“Huh?” she replies, jumping slightly at the interruption.

She peers at them through light brown eyes, almost golden. One of the hunters, the newbie, decides the color reminds him of when there are storms high in the mountains and the river is fully saturated with the high desert silt.

Another of the hunters notes the ribbons woven into the messy braid of dark hair, bright pink and purple. She's brought in a few marks in her career and has never seen anything so frivolous.

This job is guaranteed easy money.

The mark makes an awkward smile at the three of them, not entirely sure who to address.

“Uh… yeah, Akhana. That's me,” she replies. “Y'all need any tinker work done or anythin? I'm kind of between jobs right now, but I'm not above a little bit o’ freelance if it keeps my belly full.”

She looks at them hopefully for a moment before her smile slips at their expressions.

The leader glances back at his more seasoned companion with a raised eyebrow, silently asking if this is the right person. She frowns dubiously as she nods.

“I had a pretty good gig goin’ for a spell there,” she nervously continues, starting to ramble as she returns her attention to her work. “Gunrunning and all that. Lotta time to be alone in my head to think about designs and it pays a might bit better’n working the forges. Hurts a lot less than the fightin’ ring too. But of course, somebody had ta go and ruin it. Jerk wanted a cut of the money, like we're some kind of criminal enterprise, if you can believe that! Okay, I mean, yeah, it's technically illegal and everything, but it's not like we we're doing anything wrong, ya know? Just gettin’ supplies out to good honest folk tryin’ ta eek out a living out in the wild. So what if some of those supplies just happened to be black powder weapons of dubious provenance? I tell ya what though, Ma ain't to happy about my face being on a wanted poster, her bein’ a former marshal ‘n all that…”

She trails off, perhaps realizing that she effectively just offered a confession to a trio of strangers. She looks around the room and seems surprised to find it empty. She squints at the three of the bounty hunters in turn, sizing them up.

“Aw heck,” she says. “You fella’s are here about the bounty, ain't ya?”

The leader gives a curt nod.

“Come in quietly,” he says. “Nobody has to get hurt. It'll be easier for all of us.”

She runs her tongue along one of her tusks, considering for a moment.

“Nah,” she says finally and returns to her work, slipping the last few gears and pieces of wires into the gauntlet.

The bounty hunters exchange a baffled glance.

“Ma'am-”

She holds up a finger to silence him. She clicks a mechanism shut and spins a dial, listening intently to some unknown response. She gives a quick nod, apparently satisfied, she starts packing up her tools.

The leader clears his throat.

“Ma'am, we're here for the bounty on your head-”

“Yeah, I know,” she interrupts. “I heard ya. Answer’s still no.”

Only after the last tool is carefully placed in its place does she uncurl herself from her hunched posture. As she squares her shoulders and cracks her neck, the hunters realize that what they mistook for softness is actually a healthy layer of padding over solid muscle.

The hunter on the left, the newbie, takes a nervous step back.

She slips the gauntlet on her wrists. Something clicks and whirrs. There's a spark and a tiny puff of blue smoke from the gauntlet.

She grins, her eyes filling with a manic sort of delight.

[imsodishy]

Maybe Steve would have been more empathetic towards Billy if Max wasn't so terrified of him showing up in the first place, insisting Billy would hurt Max and Lucas. Steve was protecting Max by lying to Billy

Look, the idea that Max meant that he was literally going to kill any on them, and that anyone would assume that she did, is fucking nonsense. It's an idiom, a common one. Was Max legitimately a little scared of what Billy might do? Yeah, probably. She's already said he's been angry since the move.

But just off the top of my head, Steve said his dad would kill him, Steve said he would kill Dustin if he was jerking him around, Dustin screamed at Steve to kill Billy in the heat of the fight. I find it deeply disingenuous when people apply literallism only to the instances where Billy is involved.

There's typically a lot of emphasis put on how Billy should have deescaleted that situation, but that's actually a two way street, and no one else was doing any work to try to keep things chill, even before he heads to the Byers that night it's stressor after stressor thrown in his face and no one doing anything to help. And despite common framing of that scene, he doesn't actually come in guns blazing, throwing punches.

Steve insults him, and repeatedly lies to his face, before Billy decides he's had enough of that shit. You know what doesn't deescalate a situation? Lying. Especially badly.

The only thing that actually had any hope of depressurizing that powder keg of a situation was looping Billy in. They had already dragged Max into it for no good reason, (which is why the were at odds with billy thay night anyway), they now actually have a good reason to loop Billy in, but refuse to.

Given that El's empathy to Billy in season 3 is what ultimately saved the day, it's reasonable to think that more of that sooner would have made a hell of a lot more difference in the long run.

[footballffbarbiex]

player: Kasper Schmeichel words: 502 request: Kasper - No pref - 250 – 500 - Kasper said once that his guilty pleasure is sweets so Christmas must be a nightmare for him 😂 so can I request the reader just absolutely torturing him to wind him up by buying loads of sweets and taunting him with them to try and wind him up. ( then maybe them sat together eating some and cuddling after he lost a match or made a mistake or something 🥺)

December comes around faster each year and there are times when Christmas festive stock is lining the shop shelves before Halloween items are put up for sale. Big tins of chocolates, spiced biscuits and cake. Coffee shops brought out a festive variety of coffees and this would prove to be hard to resist for him. 

She didn’t want to overindulge this festive season, but she did like dipping into a few snacks while watching movies while curled up under whatever blanket Kasper has thrown over them. Kasper would bring in a small carrying tray with drinks and some … boyfriend acceptable snacks. 

Today after going grocery shopping, she couldn’t help but pop a few large tubs of chocolate into her shopping cart. She argued that Easter chocolate always tasted better than regular and she held the same belief with Christmas chocolate too. She purchased some hot cocoa powder and some flavoured syrups to add to it. Various toppings also found themselves in her cart and she located snacks like potato chips, popcorn, gingerbread and anything else that took her fancy. 

When Kasper returns home, there’s a slow cooker filled with hot cocoa and a small topping station set up beside it. He can smell the sickly sweet chocolate scent the moment he steps inside the house. It hangs in the air in such a way that just breathing it in allows him to taste it. 

He joins her in the lounge, a hot mug of sweet liquid within his hands but just as he begins to sit down, he notices the tubs on her lap as she stretches out on the couch. 

“The one thing I didn’t need today and you chose this day of all days to bring these home?” Kasper groans as he plonks himself down near her feet after placing his mug on the coffee table. 

“What made you say that?” She asks, leaning forward and plucking a chocolate from the tub. Kasper keeps his eyes on the screen, watching as the scene unfolds while she does the same to the chocolate wrapped. 

“Someone in catering brought in cake and snacks. Was the gaffer’s birthday so…”

“Oh boy.”

“I brought home a slice for you. It’s in my bag. I forgot to bring it in,” he jerks his thumb in the direction of where the front door is. 

“Thank you,” it was genuine gratitude expressed, there was something about knowing that Kasper thought of her and had intention of bringing a bit of happiness to her day. 

“Babe, this is the one time you can enjoy your things.”

“There’s enjoying it and there’s me.”

The look he gives her as she smirks over the rim of her mug is enough to push the tub of goodies his way. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

“The most wonderful time of the year, huh?” He mutters to himself before selecting one and tells himself that he won’t have too many. 

And already, Kasper knows he won’t resist the next one.

[archivus]

MAG[REDACTED] - Lights out in the Circus

Statement of Frank Gabriel regarding his development of a fear of heights. Original statement given January 3rd, 2018. Recording by Arcturus Walker, head archivist of the Magnus Institute, Budapest. Put to tape March 25th, 2024. Statement begins:

The stage is my life, or better yet, my life was flying above the stage. Throughout the different phases of my life I always wanted to perform, so now working for the national circus is a dream come true. Was a dream come true.

It all started months ago, I don't know exactly when, but I started having a recurring dream. The dream consisted of a simple jump high up on the rope, maybe a meter or two across, where I reach for the trapeze I'm supposed to grab but it isn't there. It's not like I'm jumping into thin air, I see the rod clearly. I know my limits and the jump is possible, but I hold out for it and it seemingly jumps out of my reach. And then I fall. I fall and I keep falling way below the ground. I sometimes wake up mid fall. Sometimes only when it feels like I'll hit something. But it always just feels like it. I'm falling into a dark abyss, my stomach in a knot and I can't *see* the end.

I normally don't mind the feeling of freefall, I feel like if I found it unpleasant that would be a serious drawback in my line of work. I quite enjoy falling on the practice trampoline, the mat or the safety net if it's part of the performance. Sure, when it's unexpected it's not the nicest, but I also know nothing will come of it. But the feeling in my dreams is akin to anxiety. I *feel* something coming, that recognizable sense of impending doom hits me. I'm jumping to my death and I can feel it. I am falling towards my end in the infinity before I'm jerked awake. And it kept happening, again and again every night. First I woke up properly, then it just turned into a transition from REM cycle to REM cycle, dream to dream, but the dream was always the same.

It didn't affect me at first. The dreams, at least, I could definitely feel the effects of the lack of sleep taking a toll on me. But we only had a few weeks left of the season, so I soldiered through somehow. But off season I was stuck inside, with nothing to take my mind off of my strange dreams I relived them whenever my brain had any spare time. Which was admittedly a lot. I found myself starting to be terrified of the idea of climbing the platform, afraid that the trapeze will escape my grasp for real this time. The idea of the safety net didn't help either...

Every tuesday and friday the circus was open, each performer could go practice as they felt like. Last year I went every week, but this time I found myself avoiding it. I still went the first few times but then I started to hit the snooze and stay in. Still did my daily stretches though, but I don't have access to heights at home, of course.

So when I couldn't procrastinate further and had to climb the pole I was nervous, shaking a bit. Rationally I know nothing could happen, I was there when the safety net was fastened and I know very well that it was just a trampoline, but when does rationalizing our fears ever actually resolve them? I so wish it did. Deep down I was glad I was alone, no one saw my hesitation. No one could, except for the guy responsible for lighting, but he wasn't looking my way. Not yet. I haven't paid much attention to him before, but I noticed the lights were different during the shows, not bad, but noticably cooler toned.

He was a new hire, average height which made him look small among the acrobats, wore his dark hair in a half-up, his general style is as you would expect from someone that works the mixer. Hearsay said he took it up as a gig and will be gone soon.

Not soon enough. I was up on the platform, slapping my palms into the chalk, my sweat mixing into a sticky goo with the powder, I grabbed onto my trapeze and just hung there a for a bit and started swaying. I synced with the rythm of the lights blinking above me. I did my practice routine on a single handle, no jumps yet. Once it felt awkward to procrastinate any further I swung out and let go, reaching for the stationary handle as I noticed something in my peripherals.

The lights were on at the mixer booth and I could clearly see a figure watching me. The desk is off to the side, but he was facing the glass head on this time, towards my direction. As I could predict it my hands couldn't even touch the trapeze as I began my freefall at once, this time for real.

I had my back down, I closed my eyes bracing for the soft impact on the safety net that never came. I tumbled towards nothingness again, reopening my eyes to complete darkness. The air suddenly smelled fresh and a bit like ozone, as much as the pressure let me breathe and it was cold against my face, even past what the velocity would cause. I kept on falling for what felt like an eternity. I was turning my body, figuring out how it was most comfortable. I kind of just accepted my faith, not expecting it to end anytime soon when it did, suddenly and all at once. I got that distinct feeling that always woke me up before, but I didn't hit the ground. I came to my senses the moment before letting go of my trapeze, without time to react my body took on the pose I had tumbling down the abyss and I found myself sat on the net underneath, the shock of "hitting the ground" still weighing heavily on my chest.

I looked over to the mixer booth too late. The new hire wasn't in the room anymore. The stage was dark. I rest my head on the net for one deep inhale and climbed off. I packed my stuff and headed home.

I didn't go back again. I liked the circus a lot but I knew I couldn't continue what I did before. I collected my paycheck at the start of the new season and asked if I could take a break, maybe work a role that didn't involve heights. Their response was a dismissal.

Statement ends.

It's not often that I don't have to run statements through the team nor do a follow up, but this one needs no explanation to me. I worked a gig doing lighting for the national circus at the time. And I also know that the performers gossiped about me. My brother told me. Like that matters. I didn't have anything against Frank specifically, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Alone. As a freshly hatched avatar I needed people to test my powers on and who could be better than those trained at freefall? Those working with heights? And those that enjoy it? I didn't mean to traumatize this poor man no less get him fired.

Guess that's in the past now. I searched him up, but no new workplace was listed on any of his social platforms. Wish I could feel remorse, but I sold my soul to the entity of insignificance so, guess that won't change. He was a good test subject though, I enjoyed his dreams.

Statement ends.

If you enjoyed, you can check out the other episodes here:

The Flesh The Stranger The Dark

@transbot-brian, @theseuscloud, @cult-of-the-eye thanks for the nice comments on my previous post! Future episodes will be posted over on this account, hope you enjoyed

[chilewithcarnage]

inspired by your prev ask;

top 5 seasonings!

1. Seasoned salt

2. Garlic powder/onion powder (do NOT separate them!)

3. Jerk seasoning

4. Old bay

5. Smoked paprika

[sabraeal]

Age of Reason, Part 4

[Read on AO3]

Written for PurePassion, the other half of @traditional-with-a-twist, who also won the Obiyuki Madness Kitty! I am not often asked for more of this fic, but I am all too happy to oblige!

The thing is, the ambiance— it doesn’t add up.

Country nights run black as pitch, and the shadows here stretch deep in the stuff, dragging across the marble floors like a tiger’s stripes. The sort of inky darkness so thick a mind might trick itself into think it could leave streaks on a man, that it might even be solid enough to reach out and swallow given half the chance. The kind of endless deep that really gets the small animal of the soul shivering, wondering what might be on the other side— or if there is an other side to find. Toss a dir down a well like that, and you might be more surprised to hear it hit bottom.

That alone could have a man jumping at his own footsteps, thinking he sees ghouls and demons and worse around every corner. There’d been more than a few grifts where Obi had the dark do the heavy lifting, letting a moonless night press in around the kind of men who had more pride than sense. The kind that were eager to prove there was no vengeful spirit lurking around the village hall, or no vampires stalking through their forests in the dead of night. Convincing the shepherd went a long way in convincing the sheep, after all.

But tonight is no moonless night— no, he’d picked an evening where the old lady sat fat in her velvet bower, molting moonlight the way birds might their feathers, so bright there’d been no need for candles, even in the deepest bowels of the manor. No need for any casual passerby to know someone had been poking around the old pile, not when a ghostly princess would soon make her debut. Last thing he’d wanted was folk around here wondering if the ethereal princess had a more earthly in origin.

Picked the first night of the full moon too, just in case he needed to move fast— these Clarinese were always so quick to fall back on reason, once the fear had its time to settle, like water sinking below oil in a flask. There were ways to make skin glow and sigils flare if an enterprising person knew the angles the moonlight would slant through the window and the sort of unguent and powders that would use it to its best effect. The real could become surreal in the right man’s hands, and Obi— well, he’d made himself the right man long ago.

But standing here, staring at this apparition’s ghostly pallor, so translucent he can see where her veins run along the length of her forearms and snake up the column of her neck, blood soaked and flaking from the linen of her nightrail, and well—

It just doesn’t lend itself to the word con man. Or the way her hip cocks, unimpressed, as she cradles that bundle in her arms.

“Ah, miss!” He presses a hand to his chest, sketching the barest bow. She’s no sleeping princess, that’s for sure, but it always pays to be polite. “Con man is such an ugly term. I am a helper of man, a hunter of the unknowable, a—”

“A scoundrel, then.” She sets her bundle against her shoulder, the wailing cutting off with a hitch. It turns to a whine, the blankets squirming in strange, jerking movements. “Or perhaps you prefer ne’er-do-well?”

His hand drops, boneless under that dubious stare of hers. “I’ll have you know I do quite a bit of good.”

“I’m sure,” she says, too polite to be sincere. “I am curious though— what’s the grift, here? The house is closed for the season, but you’ll hardly be able to convince the townsfolk that there’s ghosts in the basement, or werewolves in the orchard. And when the guard find out you’ve snuck past them…”

There’s a doleful little warning in the glance she gives him, one that promises a tour of whatever dark corners the royals like to keep their undesirables in. But it’s hard to feel the threat of it when Obi hadn’t seen so much as a single petal of Wisteria blue since he stepped into town, and he doubts he’s about to see more. “Grift? Miss, I was sent here. Asked— no, begged, really— to come investigate the goings on here at the manor. There’s supposed to be a girl here, spurned by her royal lover and left to sleep for—”

“Ah, you’re a monster hunter.” Her smile’s almost fond when she shakes her head, as if he were a child dressed in his father’s maile, declaring himself a dragon slayer. “I haven’t seen one of those since I left Tanbarun. I never thought one would try their luck here.”

He wouldn’t have if sleeping mistress hadn’t seemed like sure money. “Is that so.”

“I thought germ theory sent all of you scampering back over the border.” Hand rubbing in soothing circles over the bundle, she peers down the hall. “So where is your partner?”

“Partner?” This girl knows far too much for those doll-like eyes. “I’m alone. Why would you think I had—?”

“Because someone has to be the monster, don’t they?” She takes a step, glancing through one of the open doors. “What was it supposed to be? Tragic young maiden, wrongfully killed before her time? Scullion who got in the family way and chose to take her own life, rather than suffer the dishonor? Oh, or perhaps a vampire—”

“With all due respect, Miss,” he blurts out, impatient. “I believe it was supposed to be you.”

“Me?” She doesn’t so much speak the word as shape it, mouth rounding as her gaze drops, tracing the eerie trails of blood winding down her gown. “Oh.”

*

If Obi thought it had been a pain sneaking out, it’s somehow an even bigger pain sneaking back in to Torou’s room. The window’s loud, for one, grunting and groaning as he tries to swing the pane from the sash, nearly slamming back in on his fingers once he does get it open. The company, for the second— and third, since the young lady balks when he offers to hold her blankets and give her a boost, and in the process of strapping it to her back, he discovers it isn’t an it at all.

“That’s a baby,” he hisses, nearly dropping the thing in panic.

“Of course he is.” She turns her head over her shoulder, mouth matching the baby’s disgruntled pout. “What did you think he was?”

Evidence of a mental illness, he doesn’t say, settling instead for, “There, all snug now. Now will you let me boost you up?”

And for the fourth, well…there’s something left to be desired in their reception, too.

“What are you thinking?” Torou squeaks, fingers tights as iron bands where they grip his arm. “You meet a girl covered in blood, and you think we should bring her in on the take?”

“I think we should hear her out at least,” he says, watching the girl linger by the kitchen fire. “Let her warm up a little. Maybe get her a new dress?”

What’s she’s got clings to her in all the wrong places, too stiff and crusted to seem like a second skin, but molded to her in a way that suggest it’ll feel like one when she pulls it off. Torou doesn’t miss it either, a breath huffing out as her arms cross over her chest.

“Fine. One dress.” She casts the girl a long look. “And one night. We can hear what she has to say, but if I don’t like it…”

Her thumb hitches over her shoulder. “That’s all I ask.”

*

“Oh…” There’s a chair drawn up before the fire— he’d dragged it there himself while he waited, not quite sure why he bothered. At least, not until the girl sinks down into it with a sigh, stretching out her legs until the joints crack. “Feels like I haven’t done that in ages.”

The baby’s still in her arms, sleeping now, small face tucked up against her chest. It— he grunts every breath or so, little frown furrowing deeper with each one, an old man’s face writ in smaller lines. It doesn’t seem possible for someone to be that tiny, to be that new and be out in the world with only a few scraps of cloth to keep him safe.

“Ah, I don’t mean to be rude, but…” Her head tilts back to look at him, hair shining penny-bright in the firelight. “Do you happen to have some…something to eat?”

Torou glances at him, unimpressed, before telling her, “There’s some stew I can warm up. Bit of bread too, if you don’t mind it’s a bit stale.”

“Oh!” Her breath hitches. “That…that would be quite enough, thank you. I don’t have anything to pay you, but I’m sure I could, um…?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Obi tells her, feeling the weight of the purse at his belt. “It’s on the house.”

There’s not a drop of noble blood running through Torou’s veins— neither of them; if he knows one thing, it’s that for sure— but she could give the finest countess a run for her money with the arch on her brow now, a look so loud he practically hears, ‘Oh, is it now?’ echoing in his ears. He gives her a charming smile, his best, and only budges that brow a bit higher.

“On…?” The girl’s cheeks flush, not perched all pretty on the apples of her cheeks, the way a prince’s mistress should, but splotchy like a farmer’s daughter. Not ideal for running this grift, but beggars can’t be choosers. Not like vengeful ghosts were given to be bashful anyway. “The kindness is appreciated, but I couldn’t presume to…” Her head shakes, though he doesn’t miss her glance toward the pot, all hunger. “This is a place of business.”

Between one blink and the next, Torou changes; stubborn giving way to surprise, then gives way to a different sort of stubborn. She’s already reaching for a trencher when he says, “Seems a fair exchange to me, miss…for a name.”

She hesitates now, one arm squeezing tighter on the babe, shoulders hunched as if her slight body could protect him from anything more substantial than a breeze. “…Shirayuki.”

He mouths the name, oddly familiar on his lips. A nice one, even if it doesn’t come with a last name to match. Not all do, where he’s from. He certainly doesn’t have one to give. “And him?”

She’s more eyes than face— probably even was even before that babe of hers pulled every last scrap of life from her it could— and all of it glances down to the bundle in her arms, a pink, wrinkled face pouting out from the swaddle. “I…” Her voice is so soft he hardly hears it over the scrape of the ladle. “I don’t know yet.”

Torou bustles over to her, thrusting the bowl between them. “Not going to name him after the father?”

It’s a cheap ploy, but an effective one. The sort they’ve made their bread and butter on for years, spooling out reason and rumor alike from the townsfolk they fleece, using every last thread of it to weave their grift. Except on this girl— this Shirayuki— there’s no crying or raging, no nothing. Just a tightening of her mouth and a small furrow carving itself between her brows.

“I don’t think,” she says, so carefully, tightening the makeshift swaddle around him, “that would be a good idea.”

Torou’s mouth goes a little pinched too. “You can’t eat and hold that thing. Here,” she says, holding out her arms. “Let me take him. Just for a minute.”

The girl shrinks back, eyes measuring the distance between Torou’s outstretched hands and the door. Whatever number she gets can’t be compelling.

“Listen,” Torou sighs, cocking a hip. “If he’s going to eat, you got to too, right? Can’t do that without both hands.”

Obi’s mouth twitches. “Unless you want me to feed you, Miss. I’d be happy to serve on bended knee, if only you said—”

The girl can’t get the babe into Torou’s arms fast enough. “Thank you.”

Her mouth twitches, meeting the babe’s eyes. “Don’t mention it.”

*

“Tell me you aren’t thinking what I think you’re thinking,” Torou mutters, jogging the baby boy up on her shoulder. He’s fussing quiet-like, not enough chest to make the full-bodied shrieks a bigger babe could, but he’s grunting— whimpering, really— nosing around Torou’s neck like if he roots hard enough, he might find his mother.

He holds up his hands, the picture of innocence. “I’m not thinking anything.”

“You don’t got to tell me that.” Her gaze darts over to where the girl sits, digging into her stew slowly, methodically even, but still— there’s an intensity to it. An urgency. Probably can’t remember the last time she ate, but she’d rather die than give that away. He’s seen it before— hell, done it before. “But I mean under all that not thinking. Tell me you’re not going to…”

There’s no need to say the words, not when they both know— “She’s perfect.”

“Are you nuts?” she hisses, so close to shrill he nearly shushes her. The baby does it instead, whining into her shoulder, little limbs jerking where he rests. A hand to the back soothes him, but Torou still glares, so tense that mane of hers nearly stands on end. “We don’t know anything about her.”

“Come on.” His charm might be wasted on Torou, but reason wouldn’t be. “This isn’t like our other jobs. These people actually knew the girl. We can’t just stuff you in a nightgown and hope for the best.”

“And what’s to say she’s got the look anymore than I do?” she sniffs, chin taking it most stubborn angle. “Sure, you found her in that creepy old pile. Sure, she was covered in blood. That’s doesn’t make her…her…”

She glances down at the kid, strangely pale— and even more strangely silent.

“Look at her. She’s so thin you can practically see through her. Put her under the moonlight with that bloody dress and even I thought she could be…” He clears his throat. “Red hair too. Not easy to find in these parts.”

Though he could have sworn he saw it recently. Not as apple-bright as this, but still, something close. Kissing-cousins. Family.

“You can dye hair,” Torou mutters, but there’s no heat behind it. No conviction. He’s got her hooked, now he’s just got to reel her in.

“To that color?” His shoulder bumps her, drawing a gurgle from that sleepy baby throat. “Come on, it’s not like we have better plans. What’s the harm?”

Torou stiffens, a palm absently rubbing over the baby’s back. “What if you’re right?”

He blinks. “What?”

“What if…?” She licks her lips. “What if this isn’t a coincidence?”

A scoff escapes him before he can catch it, which means he has to commit. “You can’t really think she’s the mistress, can you? Torou, you—?”

“I know what I saw,” she growls, voice pitched low. “She was cursed, Obi. And no one knows why! What if…what if they find out she’s awake and—”

“Torou.” His hand weighs heavy on her shoulder, trying to ground her, to recognize it’s earth under her feet. “We make up all our grifts! There’s never been a vengeful ghost, or a werewolf, or a…a cursed princess. They’ve all been parts you play!”

She shakes her head, all eyes when she looks up at him. “But the best lie has a grain of truth in it. What if…what if we’ve finally found ours?”

Obi frowns down at her, a strange sense of dread knotting in his gut. “We know what this world can do, don’t we? And if it could do something like that…”

Then maybe it wouldn’t be just the two of them. Or maybe they wouldn’t be here at all. A little bit of magic could change everything, once a body started to believe.

“We’ve made a mint making other people fools,” Torou says finally. “But I’m telling you, Obi. If we get involved with this girl, we’ll be the bigger ones.”

He’d love to get the last word in on that one, to tell her she’s just being as gullible as their marks, but he can’t get a peep out, not when the little man on her should rears back his head and wails.

“Oh!” There’s only the trencher left in the girl’s hands when she turns back, already half-eaten. “He must be hungry.”

It’s Obi that lifts him from Torou’s shoulder, letting a grin tilt his lips. “Hey, Miss,” he starts, patting the little guy on his back. “Tell me if you’ve heard this one before…”

[rainpelt25]

Not ship art!!!!

I just think they would be besties!!! In my dumb brain Kirk let's uhura try out new wierd makeups or nail supplies she gets on alien planets on him, I just think they would gossip while she tests on of those nail polish powder things on jim ok!!!

I just got to season 3 of tos btw so if Kirk suddenly becomes a jerk to her or something oopsy!! You will never see my face again!!!

[recipeandeat]

Jerk chicken pasta is a flavorful and spicy dish that combines the bold and aromatic flavors of jerk seasoning with tender pieces of chicken and pasta. The dish is typically made by marinating seasoning chicken with a blend of aromatic spices and herbs, such as allspice, thyme, and Scotch bonnet peppers, and then grilling or bake the chicken till it is well cooked.

The cooked chicken is then tossed with pasta and a flavorful sauce, which may include ingredients such as diced tomatoes, onions, and bell peppers. Some variations of jerk chicken pasta also include vegetables, such as zucchini or bell peppers, and may be served with a side of rice or a salad. Overall, jerk chicken pasta is a delicious and satisfying meal that is perfect for those who love bold and spicy flavors.

If you compare this recipe with Jerk Chicken Pasta restaurant, I can definitely say that this pasta recipe will taste better than any restaurant dish if you follow the steps shown in the article properly.

So let's know without any delay how to make this delicious Creamy Jerk Chicken Pasta Recipe.

Jerk Chicken Pasta Ingredients:

• 1 pound boneless and skinless chicken breasts, cut them into bite-sized pieces.

• 1 tablespoon olive oil

• 1/2 teaspoon salt

• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper

• 1/2 teaspoon paprika

• 1/2 teaspoon cumin

• 1/2 teaspoon onion powder

• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder

• 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme

• 1/2 teaspoon ground allspice

• 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

• 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

• 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

• 8 ounces pasta

• Seeded and diced and 1 red bell pepper

• Seeded and diced and 1 green bell pepper

• 1 small onion, diced

• 1 cup chicken broth

• 1/2 cup heavy cream

• 2 tablespoons tomato paste

• 2 tablespoons jerk seasoning

• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro

Step By Step Instruction:

Step 1:

In a small bowl, mix together the salt, pepper, paprika, cumin, onion powder, garlic powder, thyme, allspice, cayenne pepper, nutmeg, and cinnamon. Sprinkle the spice mixture over the chicken pieces and toss to coat.

Step 2:

Add olive oil in a large pan and heat on medium flame. Now ddd the chicken and cook until it is browned on all sides and cooked through, about 5-7 minutes. After cooking properly take out the chicken from the pan and keep it aside.

Step 3:

Now add onion and capsicum to the same pan. Cook for 5 minutes till the vegetables are well cooked.

Step 4:

Add the chicken broth, heavy cream, tomato paste, and jerk seasoning to the skillet. Let the mixture cook well and then reduce the flame.

Step 5:

Now add cooked pasta to the pan and cook well. Put the chicken in the same pan and cook it well.

Step 6:

Garnish with chopped cilantro and serve hot. Enjoy!

Hope you liked this Easy Jerk Chicken Pasta Recipe, If you have, do not forget to comment, as well as if you want the recipe of any dish, then do tell that too, we will try to get it to you as soon as possible.

Nutrition Value In Jerk Chicken Pasta:

A typical serving of Mug Shot Jerk Chicken Pasta (1 pot) has the following nutritional values:

• 59 grams net carbs

• 1.3 grams fat

• 10 grams protein

• 297 calories

Frequently Asked Questions:

Q. How many calories are in jerk chicken pasta?

A typical serving of Mug Shot Jerk Chicken Pasta (1 pot) has the following nutritional values:

• 59 grams net carbs

• 1.3 grams fat

• 10 grams protein

• 297 calories

Q. What are the ingredients needed for Jerk Chicken Pasta?

Needed ingredients for Jerk Chicken Pasta:

• 1 pound boneless and skinless chicken breasts, cut them into bite-sized pieces.

• 1 tablespoon olive oil

• 1/2 teaspoon salt

• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper

• 1/2 teaspoon paprika

• 1/2 teaspoon cumin

• 1/2 teaspoon onion powder

• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder

• 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme

• 1/2 teaspoon ground allspice

• 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

• 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

• 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

• 8 ounces pasta

• Seeded and diced and 1 red bell pepper

• Seeded and diced and 1 green bell pepper

• 1 small onion, diced

• 1 cup chicken broth

• 1/2 cup heavy cream

• 2 tablespoons tomato paste

• 2 tablespoons jerk seasoning

• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro

Also Read: How to Cook Lion's Mane Mushroom Recipe: A Step by Step Guide

Thank you.

[the-al-chemist]

Happy spooky season 👻

Can I have Trick - candy for Dante?

Oh no, I’ve been tricked! 😈 thank you for the prompt - I’ve put a cut before the story because it contains some slightly mature topics - references to alcohol, exotic dancing, and swearing - well, it is a stag do! Reva and Dylan (in mention) Amari belong to @lifeofkaze

Candy

A mop cleaned the floor of the Hog’s Head Inn without anyone’s input while Dante and Reva selected which bottles they wanted from shelves behind the bar.

“It’s unlike you to leave this sort of thing to the last minute.”

“Not my fault. I’d have sorted this out two hours ago if I hadn’t been distracted,” Dante replied to Reva’s comment, and she raised her eyes over the top of a bottle of tequila. “And besides, aren’t you supposed to be the best man? Shouldn’t you be the one organising this whole thing?”

Reva smirked. “As if you’d let me do it by myself.”

“I remember what happened last time you organised a party.”

“Just as well I have you to help me then.” There was a knock at the door, and Reva jerked her head towards it. “And Tav, obviously.”

“Obviously. And how does the groom feel about this?”

“I’m not actually certain that Dylan knows.”

It being his bar, Dante strode across to the door, and opened it to reveal Rory McTavish, his old school friend, Reva’s teammate, and chronic pain in Dylan the groom’s neck.

“Oi, Reva. You’re not meant to be here,” Rory called out, sidestepping the mop as he crossed to the bar. He picked up two bottles of whiskey and looked at the labels before putting one down and taking a swig from the other. Dante closed his eyes and exhaled. “You’re banned.”

“Banned?”

“Aye. It’s a stag do, only men allowed.”

“Oh, really?” Reva’s eyes glittered. “What about Candy?”

Dante frowned. “Candy? Who’s Candy?”

“The stripper,” Rory said, taking another swig from the whiskey bottle.

“You’ve hired a stripper?”

“Technically, Reva’s footed the bill, but aye, we’re having a stripper. Little treat for Dylan, ken?”

It seemed to Dante that this ‘treat’ was more for Rory than it was for Dylan. He nodded slowly, his frown deepening.

“Will Dylan actually enjoy a stripper?”

“Everyone enjoys a stripper, Dante,” Rory informed him. He craned his head to look at the stairs that led from the back of the bar to Dante’s flat upstairs. “Where is she, anyway?”

“She isn’t here yet,” said Reva. Rory only looked a little deflated. “Should be here any minute.”

“Good. That’s the only reason I came here early, you know.”

Dante’s lips twitched as he watched Rory help himself to a third mouthful of whiskey.

“Say, Rory, have you ever heard of toxic masculinity?”

“What’s that, a band?”

“Something like that,” Dante muttered, as Reva let out a noise halfway between a cough and a snort.

“Right, if you’ll excuse me,” said Rory, straightening up and putting down the whiskey bottle, “I need to go and powder my nose. Got to make sure I look my best for Candy, after all.”

The moment he had left the room, Dante took a cloth and started to clean around the neck of the bottle Rory had been drinking from. Not even a minute had passed before there was another knock at the door.

“That’ll be her,” said Reva. Dante continued to clean the bottle. “Are you not going to answer it?”

“You hired her, Reva. She’s your stripper.”

“It’s your bar.”

“So we both answer it, okay?”

“Okay.”

As the two of them opened the door, they laid eyes upon a clean shaven man standing on the street outside, three matching suitcases of various sizes at his feet.

“Uh, can we help you?” Dante asked him.

“I believe you’re expecting me.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’m Candy.”

Dante and Reva exchanged glances.

“Candy,” Dante repeated.

“I will be in a couple of hours, anyway. Right now I’m still just Keith.” Just Keith frowned at their confused faces. “Candy, as in ‘I, Candy’. You booked my ‘Confident as a Queen Masterclass’.” He looked up at the sign above the door and back again. “You are Reva, aren’t you?”

Reva, who had so far - for the first time since Dante had known her - been rendered speechless, blinked rapidly and nodded.

“Yeah, sorry,” she said. “Sorry, I was expecting you to be…”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. I will be every little bit as fabulous as you’d hoped I’d be as soon as I’ve got my costume on and make up done,” Keith assured them. “So, are you the bride or the maid of honour?”

“Best man, actually. My brother’s the groom.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic. I’ve never actually done a stag do before, it’s usually all hen parties. You guys are going to have so much fun. Now, do you have anywhere I can use to get ready?”

Dante helped Keith carry the suitcases to the flat upstairs, and returned to the bar to find Reva looking incredibly sheepish.

“So,” he said, raising one eyebrow at her, “was this deliberate, or did you just-”

“No, I fucked up. I fucked up.” Reva put her hands in the air. “So, what now?”

“Well, it looks like Dylan’s having a drag masterclass instead of a striptease.”

“Do you think he’ll… like that?”

“Honestly? I don’t think he’d have liked either of those things,” Dante told her. His eyes drifted in the direction of the men’s toilets, and he smirked. “But you know what he will really like?”

“What?”

“Rory learning how to be confident as a queen.”

Reva fell against Dante’s chest in a fit of giggles. The two of them stopped laughing abruptly as Rory returned from the bathroom.

“What?” he asked. “Is it Candy? Is she here yet?”

Dante and Reva made eye contact, both grinning to themselves.

“She will be soon.”