#THIS IS JUST HOTSY-TOTSY !!!

[spookythesillyfella]

WOWIE ZOWIE I CAN'T BELIEVE IT X33 [ confetti confetti !! ] I'M THE HAPPIEST BOY IN THE WORLD EVEEERR !!! ^_^

[y3nze1]

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆, 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍 | c.3

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: I / II / III / IV / V / VI

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Happy Readings!

"Y/n!~" Loralie called out. purse in hand, she ran towards you, happily approaching, clearly there was an interesting news that she couldn't keep to herself with that kind of energy. "Y/n..!" you cut her off for a moment. "Loralie, if it's a party, i swear i am not willing to hook myself on some hooch, you know tha-" she pressed a finger on your lips. "Shush, this is most likely the party of the century, Y/n!"

You let out a soft chuckle. "You always say that.. and you know my answer. as always.. it's a n-" she cut you off again. With that, you rolled your eyes. "I already bought you an outfit. stop yappin, take a bath. get yourself ready for tonight, so we are gonna cut a rug as i say so!" she exclaimed. crossing your arms as you responded with a sigh.

You could see the excitement on Loralie's face as she spoke of the upcoming party. You couldn't help but feel a little intrigued, wondering what could be in store for the night. Not wanting to disappoint ger, you nodded along, doing as she wanted. "Alright, alright," you said with a groan, giving in to her enthusiasm. "I'll get cleaned up and get ready."

Loralie beamed at you, clearly pleased with your response. She took your hand and led you into the bathroom, helping you with your bath preparations. "Darlin, We gotta make sure you shine, you dazzle, and hotsy totsy!~" she ran the bath, pouring in the things needed to make it purely bubble. As you bathed, you couldn't help but wonder about the mystery event that Loralie had planned for the night. You weren't sure what to expect from then on.

Patted dry, you followed along behind her as she pulled your hand out the bathroom. giggling to herself. "Alright Darlin.. don't you worry. i am goin to make ya' stunnin." she softly gazed at you. sitting you down by the vanity mirror. drying down your hair.

For the next few hours. you spent the day getting ready. a light blush on your cheek, just the right amount of soft mascara. and a beautiful shade of red lipstick, of course. you weren't keen on using makeup, but my goodness, did you look like a shining star for the evening. coming to dazzle upon everyone just once for a span of thousands of years.

As you finished getting ready, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building inside you. Everything was just perfect - the dress, the makeup, the hair... you felt like a princess, like a star, ready to take on the world. And with Loralie by your side, you felt like anything was possible.

Loralie looked just as excited as you were, and as you stood up from the vanity, she handed you a gift-wrapped box. "Well, I might as well give you your present early.." she said with a smile, handing you the box. You opened it up, revealing a beautiful necklace - a silver chain with a beautiful blue jewel at the center. It was the perfect finishing touch to your outfit.

As you put on the necklace, Loralie took your head to the mirror. smiling softly, "Look at that darlin.. do you know what i see?.." you paused for a moment, taking a good look at yourself. "i see beautiful, dashing, wonderful woman.." she sighed, pure satisfied. "oh my, you're there too!" she let out a laugh as you rolled your eyes in annoyance. "oh I'm just teasing, Y/n.. Don't be such a bearcat!~"

Loralie took your hand and led you out of the room, down the stairs and out the door. You stood outside, feeling the cool air on your skin and feeling overwhelmed by the excitement. Loralie ushered you into a waiting car, and soon you were on your way to the mysterious party that Loralie had been planning. The ride was full of anticipation - you had no idea what to expect, but you knew that whatever it was, it was going to be a night to remember.

As the car pulled up to the venue, you could see that it was a sprawling estate, lit up with countless lights and surrounded by an intricate garden. Loralie hopped out of the car and you followed, feeling your heart pound as you approached the front door.

You took a deep breath, ready to face whatever the night had in store. With Loralie by your side, you felt like you could take on the world.

The party was unlike anything you had ever seen. The estate was teeming with people dressed to the nines, sipping on champagne and cocktails, and dancing to the music of a live band. The atmosphere was electric, and you found yourself being drawn into the excitement.

As Loralie pulled you along, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and majesty. The venues, the attire, the people; everything was so elegant and refined. It was a world completely different from the one you were used to.

As you made your way through the crowd, you couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and amazement. The venue was a testament to human ingenuity and creativity, and you found yourself lost in the excitement and beauty of it all. But despite the grandeur and majesty, there was also a sense of warmth and community. The crowd was filled with people of all ages, nationalities, and backgrounds, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves and having a good time. It was a truly international scene.

And through it all, Loralie was by your side. She helped you navigate the crowd and introduced you to various people, helping you make connections and network. The night was full of possibilities and opportunities, and you found yourself feeling more confident and empowered than ever before. As the night wore on, the party only became more and more lively. The music grew louder, the drinks flowed freely, and the dancing grew more wild and frenetic. You couldn't help but feel a sense of freedom and joy, as if you were part of something bigger than yourself.

For a moment you stopped, you stood by the middle of the crowd, catching the look of a young man, staring back at you. The moment felt like a stop motion, You felt a flutter in your chest, that familiar feeling that came over you, nervous, you looked away instead. You looked around the crowd, scanning for Loralie. She was still talking to an array of people, but she caught your glance and motioned for you to come over. You cut through the crowd, avoiding people's drinks and plates with ease, but then you felt someone bumping into you. Before you could turn around to apologize, a soft voice sounded in your ear.

"Watch your step, my dear. You wouldn't want to trip and fall, now do you?" That voice, that particular voice, The voice was deep and melodic, and a pair of warm, brown eyes met yours. You felt like time had stopped on you again, the music was faded and the only thing you could hear was his voice. Finally after a good while of staring, you brushed your shoulders gently and nervously.

"Oh," your voice sounded small and shy compared to his, "no.. no, i-i'm sorry, i didn't look at my surroundings that well." He chuckled, and you felt your heart fluttering. "Well, better watch out next time, my dear." He held out his hand, looking at you deeply, "I'm Alastor, Alastor Altruist."

No, is this actually real? you really are talking to him, face to face. Alastor, the radio man, Your fingers gently wrapped around his, and you smiled shyly, "Pleasure to meet you, Alastor, I'm Y/n, Y/n L/n". Your voice sounded weak, but your smile was bright.

He looked into your eyes, and he leaned in slightly, he out his hand once more, muttering. "would you like to have a dance with me, Ms. Y/n?". You were still processing what was happening when you both started walking towards the center of the floor. Alastor held your hand and his other hand wrapped around your waist as he leaned in closer to you.

The song playing was slow and romantic, and as you both started to sway in time to the beat, you felt a strange sense of calm and serenity wash over you. You couldn't help but notice the way Alastor looked at you - his eyes seemed to pierce right through you. "Your voice, it seems so familiar to me." he whispered, you kept your mouth shut at the moment. not daring to talk back. instead you continued to dance with him. utterly silent. basking in each one's gaze.

You felt like you were the only two people in existence, lost in a world of your own. You closed your eyes and lost yourself in the moment, oblivious to anything else around you. For that brief moment in time, you were perfectly content, perfectly happy. But as the song came to an end, you were suddenly snapped back to reality by the loud applause and cheers of those around you.

You smiled at the sudden outburst of the crowd, giggling. Alastor, turned to you. "Would you like to get a Wiggle on with me? a stroll by the garden nearby, per say?" in response, you nodded. he pulled your hand, leading you through the crowd as you two giggled. You followed Alastor through the large crowded party, the smell of food and alcohol filling the air as you navigated towards the garden. The night air was cool and refreshing, and the sound of the party began to fade into the distance.

As Alastor led you onto a small footpath, you began to notice the beauty of the dark night sky, illuminated by the lights of the city below. The sky was so clear that you could make out the shapes of the galaxies, and the stars seemed so close you felt like you could reach out and touch them.

"Oh, this is quite the view, isn't it?" Alastor said as he sat down on the bench, "I never get tired of this place, it's so peaceful." He pulled a cigarette case out of his pocket, "Do you want a butt, my dear?" he offered one to you. You shook your head no, not staring blankly at the sky.

For a second, you looked down. staring at your feet. "I've heard your radio podcast before." he looked at you, his smile widened. "really?.. then you must also know this frequent requestor of mine, have you?" He's mentioning you. you only nodded back in response. "For a listener, I've never been this.. smitten with this particular girl before. she'd call almost everyday, requesting me songs, non-stop. and.. every time, I'd pick up my telephone. i find myself hoping, she's on the other line."

He paused. looking at you. "I'm rambling, aren't i?" You felt yourself blushing slightly as Alastor continued to speak about you. He was right, you had been obsessed with his radio show for as long as you could remember. You listened to every episode, waiting for your turn to call and request a song.

And now, here you were, sitting next to him, listening to him talk about you. It felt like a dream, like something that could never really be. You smiled wide, feeling your heart race in your chest. "No, no, please continue," you said, your voice soft and barely above a whisper, "I.. i love hearing you talk" then you realized what you said. you let out a cough. "i-i.. mean about.. her, i like hearing.. umm.. you talk about her." He laughed at your attempt, finding it quite endearing. "it's fine, i don't mind. it's nice to meet someone who's very interested in you" You breathed a sigh of relief as Alastor laughed, finding it quite endearing. You were relieved that he didn't think you were weird for accidentally saying that you loved hearing him talk. You felt your face turn bright red, but you couldn't help but smile.

"It's nice to meet someone who's so interested in me too," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, You laughed as well, feeling more at ease. You knew that you were probably coming across as a total loser, but you couldn't help it. Being around Alastor made you feel a way that you couldn't even begin to describe. You felt like you could talk to him forever and never get bored. "You've mentioned this caller of yours. and.. you've striked me curious. She sounds to be quiet.. delightful, in your perspective.. i-i just wanna know.. what would you say to her if.. she were hear, the one listening.. to you."

Alastor paused for a moment, considering your question. "Well, I suppose I would tell her how much her calls mean to me.. And how much I look forward to each and every one.. every single song requests of her" He looked down at you, his face serious. "I would tell her that she's a source of inspiration.. at least.. my inspiration, that she makes me feel like I'm not just a radio host, but something more." He looked back at the sky, breathing in deeply. "I would tell her that she's the most special girl in the world, and that I'm glad i had the chance to even cross my god forsaken path with hers.."

You fell silent, turning to look at him. "So.. what's her name?" you stared at him. he smiled, looking up to the night sky.

"Daisy, My lovely, Darling, Daisy.."

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

Today, on November 10th, 1978 - Queen Story!

"Jazz" album released in the UK

👉 The seventh studio album

➡️ 12/12/1978 - Circus Magazine

🔸In praise of ‘JAZZ’

The boys conjure up a bizarre junket by Mark Mehler

On Bourbon Street, in the heart of New Orleans’ fabled French Quarter, the sign reads, “Bob Harrington-Chaplain of Bourbon Street.” Upstairs, the freelance minister administers to the wicked minions below, while across the street, the Hotsy Totsy lounge features naked women parading across an oak bar from dawn to dusk, and next door, the “X-rated Shop” specializes in scatological posters and joy sticks.

This is Freddie Mercury’s favourite American city, where the Mississippi ends its majestic flow and zealots with big dreams fight a losing battle against hustlers, procurers, and all purveyors of sleaze. It is Freddie Mercury’s favourite city because the lead singer and bucktoothed front man of Queen is, above all, an actor. And in New Orleans, anyone can be anyone they want to be. Tonight, October 31, 1978-Halloween-Freddie Mercury and Queen have flown in 80 reporters from the U.S., Europe, Latin America and Japan, to see a show and be a part of a show at the same time. The third concert on Queen’s 28-city U.S. tour is in the ornate Civic Auditorium. Above the stage are listed the names of the mighty: Shakespeare, Michelangelo, Cellini, Durer, Gounod. Out of the soft blue and green lights and smoke, Freddie Mercury struts like a rooster, striking ballet poses, under an astral guitar blare that neatly skirts the sharp edges of rock & roll. The melodies are undistinguished, but the constant tempo changes of “Bohemian Rhapsody” and “We Will Rock You”, keep an audience awake for nearly two hours of uninterrupted music. The lighting show is one of rock’s most ambitious. Eerie purple lights shine out over the heads of the audience, making their hair seem cloudlike and inanimate. At the midpoint of the show, a smaller stage is lowered from the ceiling and 400 lamps meld into the sheer white plane of curtain light. Freddie is a whirling dervish, dominating every corner of the stage.

“Some people call this song ‘Spread Your Legs’, he tells the audience, introducing ‘Spread Your Wings’. “And I like it that way”.

Starting out in black sequins, he comes out for the first encore bedecked in orange hot pants, dancing around like Peter Pan. For the second encore he’s wearing a revealing, white body stocking. As he wails ‘We Are The Champions’, his voice warbles with mock emotion, and he grasps the microphone for support. At the apex of the triumphant denouement, the top executives of Elektra Records, who have sat smiling throughout the show, arise as one and walk out. Moments later, the show closes with a taping of ‘God Save The Queen’. Body and soul spent, Freddie ambles off stage, drained and spark-less. But Halloween night in New Orleans has just begun.

Back in the ballroom of the Fairmont Hotel, over 400 people have gathered to await Queen and much on a sumptuous table of hors d’oeuvres, such as Oysters Rockfeller and Shrimp Creole. A Dixieland band plays uninspired jazz jingles, until, shortly before midnight, the Olympia Brass band comes marching through the hall accompanied by Queen-the mercurial Mercury, the winsome Brian May, the puckish John Deacon, the velvety Roger Taylor. Suddenly, like a giant circus orchestrated by a deranged ringmaster, a legion of strippers, vulgar fat-bottomed dancers, snake charmers, drag queens, and bizarrely festooned revellers, begin to strut their stuff before the assembled masses. Freddie Mercury is besieged by hungry autograph seekers, groupies and fame-worshippers. People begin shielding their clothes, as an ever-imaginative photographer snaps Freddie signing the bare backside of a willowy transvestite. Freddie begins sucking on his giant overbite nervously, and by 2 a.m., he is mercifully gone. Brian May, who seems to be the true organizer of the night’s carnival, is cornered by persistent Japanese newshounds. “It’s wonderful,” he keeps saying. “It’s so nice to be back.” As the evening wears on, epicene men and butch women act out charades of power that would have embarrassed Hemingway. Three obese black women in g-strings do a pathetic bump and grind, and another female participant amuses a small gaggle of onlookers by putting a cigarette in an unlikely place. People leave to check out the scene on Bourbon Street and drift back to the party like cigar smoke. At 4 a.m., a Queen security guard, haggard and irritable, inquires when it will all be over. “Queen wants the naked disco dancers going to dawn,” informs his partner. And it does. The following day, Queen reappears at a press conference at Brennan’s, one of the French Quarter’s most elegant restaurants. Again, it is Roger Taylor and Brian May who dominate the conversation, as Freddie Mercury seems vaguely preoccupied. The subject of all this is ‘Jazz’, Queen’s new album, which contains no jazz. “People think we take ourselves a lot more seriously than we actually do,” says Roger Taylor. ‘Jazz’, Queen’s reunion with former producer Roy Thomas Baker, offers ‘Mustapha’, an up-tempo Hebrew rocker; ‘Fat Bottomed Girls’, a song that owes a lot to Pure Prairie League’s ‘Amie’; and more indulgent rhapsodies like ‘Jealousy’ and ‘Bicycle Race’, with its topical references to Star Wars, Jaws, and Superman. The ad campaign, like everything about the Band, goes to the limit of good taste: 11 bare-chested, major-league-yabboed women racing bicycles.

“It’s cheeky”, admits Freddie, “naughty, but not lewd. Certain stores, you know, won’t run our poster. I guess some people don’t like to look at nude ladies.”

Freddie, 32, was born in Zanzibar and educated in India, and was a childhood table tennis and hockey prodigy. He studied art and became a graphic designer and illustrator, having given up piano lessons in the fourth grade. But he continued singing, fronting his first band at 14 and forming Queen with Roger and Brian in 1970. After the routine easy grilling, Mercury is cornered outside. “You seem to be removed from the character up on stage. Is that really you?”

“No,” says Freddie, “of course it’s an act.”

He denies pandering to gays; or for that matter, to anyone. He hints at a quiet, restless man who needs to step outside of himself for ego-stimulation.

“I have fun wearing all those costumes,” he says. “I can really cut loose up there”.

Freddie is then swiftly ushered out, and again, Brian May is left behind to field the endless questions of the Japanese. The two-day junket, painstakingly directed by and for Queen, ends with a few straggling journalists eating Bananas Foster and being more cynical than usual. Outside, on Bourbon Street, a folk singer entertains an empty house of red velour seats, affirming that a falling tree makes a sound whether it’s heard or not. Which conjures up something Brian May had said about Queen constantly seeking “direct communication with our audience.” For all the words that describe Queen’s trip to New Orleans, direct is surely not one.

[odekirk]

sunny music ranked from worst to best

19. FINAL FLING (heinz kiessling)—i don't even recognize this one. if it's ever been used on the show, i don't remember it. more like cloudy music. boo.

18. TEA AT TIFFANI'S (werner tautz)—i don't know who tiffani is but i never want to have tea at her place, if this is what it's like. too stressful! this one sounds like knockoff sunny music, like the kind that you would buy off a tarp on Canal Street, where the 'S' in 'IASIP' is backwards.

17. PINK DEVILLE (paul rothman)—supermarket-core in the worst way.

16. SINGLES SOIRÉE (richard faecks)—one of the slower, mellower compositions on the list. if louis armstrong were singing over this, it would really be something; but in the absence of that, it just feels a bit unfinished.

15. DERBY DAY (werner tautz)—energetic and recognizable, but the further i get beyond the brief bit they use for transitions on the show, the less i like this one. it just doesn’t hang together.

14. HONEY BUNCH (karl grell)—this actually contains one of my favorite sunny melodies (used to great effect in Mac and Dennis Break Up), but the song as a whole feels like it wanders rather aimlessly, not quite capturing any emotion or sensation in particular.

13. HOTSY-TOTSY (heinz kiessling)—Now That’s What I Call Sunny Music! if you could only keep one piece of music for score for the show, this one would be a strong contender.

12. BLUE BLOOD (heinz kiessling)—another quintessential one. very similar to "hotsy-totsy", but just a hair more pleasant to listen to, in my opinion.

10. OFF BROADWAY (werner tautz)—0:32 tho!

11. GLITTERATI PARTY (werner tautz)—starts out very similarly to the previous few songs, but the detours that it takes are much more successful.

9. MOONBEAM KISS (joe brook)—in the same class as "singles soiree", but this one feels more like a complete Thing. not relevant to its ranking but i found a reddit post where someone mistook this for the main theme and that's how i learned that tone deafness is really and truly a thing.

8. CAPTAIN'S TABLE (heinz kiessling)—this is a bit of a strange one. it starts out all elegant and shimmering, and then after just 14 seconds of that it suddenly becomes jaunty, then shifts again about halfway through, then shifts AGAIN back to jaunty. fortunately both elements work, but the dissonance between them keeps this from potentially being ranked higher.

7. TAKE THE PLUNGE (heinz kiessling)—another favorite sunny melody of mine. as with "captain's table", the very beginning feels a bit at odds with where the song goes, but the two are a bit more woven together in this tune.

6. STARLET EXPRESS (werner tautz)—the more manic counterpart to "off broadway", this definitely captures the whirlwind energy that the gang often gets caught up in.

5. TEMPTATION SENSATION (heinz kiessling)—needs no introduction, other than a cold open.

4. SWEETHEART SERENADE (werner tautz)—a cut above both "singles soiree" and "moonbeam kiss", this is something i could listen to without irony.

3. COCONUT SHY (heinz kiessling)—delightful, kooky, and unexpected, it's almost TOO GOOD to be sunny music, and i say that as someone who made this post.

2. GRAND CENTRAL (werner tautz)—like "starlet express", this is manic, but it's bordering on the horrific. it's giving Psycho (1960). 'hilarious terror' is how i might describe the vibes of this song, used to great effect in the cricket chase scene. 'goofy desperation.' 'violent silliness.'

and finally, 1. ON YOUR BIKE (heinz kiessling)—a work of pure musical genius. PERFECTLY captures exactly how it feels, and what it means, to be On Your Bike. no notes, heinz kiessling. no notes.

[psalm22-6]

I have a hard time explaining this one . . . it is part of a series called Classics in Slang by H. C. Witwer and in each instalment a boxer named One-Punch McTague reads the classics (like Hamlet and Ivanhoe and Notre-Dame de Paris) and then retells them in “slanguage.” He also fights people with names like Rabit Punch Weird. Apparently Ethel Kingsley is a character teaching him to read and is also his manager (and possible love interest?) ? My disclaimer is that it was kind of hard to track down this installment, let alone the 8 before it so I am quite confused by the particulars of this saga and because the last name McTague is apparently Irish, I’m wondering if the humor is hinging on prejudice? I can’t tell whose slang is being imitated here. Please weigh in because honestly some snippets of this are funny.  Source: Collier's, 25th December 1926  This instalment on Les Misérables was published on Christmas day (people just love Les Misérables for Christmas)

LES MISERABLES By Victor Hugo & One-Punch McTague ONCE upon a time a burly stranger breezed into a little slab in that dear Frawnce, tired, dusty and ragged from a long game of pedestrianship. The facts that he was afoot caused him to be viewed with suspicious looks, as in them days everybody traveled on stilts, except the upper classes, which hadst their own gnus to carry 'em.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, our hero kept on walkin' till he reached the drum where the bishop lived and knocked smartly on the door. In a trice he was inside.

"How are they breakin', Bish?" the new comer says. "I'm Jean Valjean and I been a galley slave for nineteen years come Arbor Day. That shouldst of rated me a job in that movie Ben Hur, but I get the air wherever I go on the account I'm a escaped convict. I'm as homeless as a milk bottle ! Tough, what?"

"I'll say it is!" agrees the bishop, which was nothin' if not big-hearted. "Sit down and knock off some chow, Big Boy; you look in dire straits!"

Whilst showin' the inner man some consideration, Jean told the bishop the reason he'd done the nineteen-year stretch was for stealin' one loaf of bread. The bishop said nothing — just coughed.

Jean couldn't get no shut-eye that night from thinkin' of the high prelate's kindness to him, so to show his gratitude he grabbed all the silverware in the joint and took it on the run. He was no Nurmi [I swear this is a reference to a Finnish runner who won nine Olympic gold medals in the 20s], how the so ever, and was soon brung back by the cops. But to the amazement of all, includin' me and Victor Hugo, the jovial bishop told the John Laws everything was jake, because he'd gave the heirlooms to Jean for him to get a new start in life. As long as the whole silly affair was only in a novel, what did the bishop care?

Jean turned up again in the village of Oo La La and by improvin' on the shape of mustache cups, the chief manufacture of the town, this go-getter soon become a wealthy millionaire. He called him self Father Madeleine and on that account the yokels laughin'ly made him mayor. Everything was hotsy totsy and Jean was sittin' handsome.

But they was one bird which thought the mayor was phoney and that was the chief of police, Javert, whose old man was so stingy he wouldn't give him a first name. Javert hadst been born in jail and spent his life tryin' to make everybody permanent visitors to his birthplace. Hearin' that Father Madeleine hadst adopted a cunnin' little tot entitled Cosette, Javert went to him and says the followin':

"Well, they fin'ly nailed Jean Valjean. He's goin' to jail at Paris next week!"

"So's your aunt Anastasia!" remarks Father Madeleine, unperturbed. "I happen to be Jean Valjean myself!"

"That's what I thought!" grins Javert. "You fell for my plant like the Jasper you are! Will you go to Paris peaceable and take the rap, or shall I call my minions?"

"I love that," says Jean. "I bet you don't even know what a minion is, you big sapolio!"

But, nevers the less, he checked out for Paris that same night and told all to the police, which was so charmed to see him that they sent him to the galleys for life, with the idea of turnin' him in to a master oarsman as a reward for him givin' himself up.

D'ye think all this bothered Jean Valjean? Hades, no! That very same Xmas he come to light again in Sacre Bleu, the French hamlet where he'd put little Cosette to board. He paid her bill and left without stealin' anything, as he was gettin' absent-minded, and they moved into a handsome garret in gay Paree.

Jean never bounded around in the day time as he was duckin' the galley cops, not cravin' to go back to that tiresome rowin' racket no more. But at eve he done all his prowlin' with the other dips which pass in the night, and one gloamin' whilst droppin' a gulden in a beggar's hat he got the thrill which comes once in a lifetime. The beggar was the gumshoe, Javert. More grief!

Scamperin' home, Jean grabbed Cosette and they done a fade-out, with Javert and a battalion of dicks hot on their French heels. They come to a high wall and Jean Valjean hadst to laugh. He'd climbed so many hoosegow walls that this one was a pipe for him. Over he leaps with Cosette in his arms and lands in a convent.

"Nuns the word!" says Jean to the good sisters and stayed there six years as landscape gardener. Javert done nothin' but gnash his teeth all durin' that period.

Jean then went through the motions of changin' his name to Fauchelevent and havin' a yen for the bright lights he again went back to Paris, where Cosette grew up to be a traffic stopper of the first water with more curves than a corkscrew. One of her first acts was to sink to the neck in love with a young youth rejoicin' in the name of Marius, the son of a gil which rejoiced even more in the name of Baron Pontmercy.

Then along comes a passin' revolution and what with bullets and knives flyin' back and forth like sparrows, Paris become another Chicago for a time. Marius was foreman of a street barricade, or a barracuda, as we call 'em, and the first day of the fun he captured Jean's old-time hindrance, Javert, as a spy. The dick was sentenced to be shot at sunrise and was prayin' for a eclipse, when along comes Jean Valjean and asks permission to be allowed the pleasures of bumpin' off this pest personally.

Holdin' his gun in his hand, Jean led Javert behind a bush and there cut the copper's bonds. A boob for the ages, what?

"Beat it!" says Jean. "You're as free as advice for a cold!"

Javert fled a few feet and then turned back with a wild cry.

"I can't be annoyed runnin' you down all my life!" he hollers. "Cook me and be done with it!"

"Who's writin' this book — you or Victor Hugo?" snarls Jean. "Vamp!"

When Jean dashed back to Marius he found that the sheik which hadst won Cosette's heart and hand hadst got himself wounded. The poilus was shootin' everybody right and left, with no regards to lovers and the etc. They was only one chance to escape and that was through a sewer, but Jean Valjean hadst never learned to hesitate. With a maniacal howl he tore off the manhole cover and plunged beneath with Marius on his shoulder!

[from here on out the scan is cut in a way that obscures a letter in the middle of each word down the page so I put in parenthesis words that I’m not sure make sense or can’t see]

The ters raged about him, but he rag right back at 'em and done a [Edeto] the mouth of the river. When come to the surface with Marius, [whoes] he see sittin' on the bank waitin' him but Javert! That simply [poisd] Jean!

By [?] time this funny sleuth was beginni to slightly annoy Jean, so after [?] Marius to a medico he went with Javert to his room. Javert stayed outside thinkin' matters over. Whils the was officer of the law he couldn't leave Jean Valjean escape and on the other hand he couldn't pinch the guy which [had] spared his life. The thing was a [?]-off all around, so Javert run back the river and crowned a life of nonsense by jumpin' overboard and drownin. The big stiff was all damp, anyway.

Marius, wiry youth, got better and wed Cosette, and Jean called 'em both to his side. “As long as Javert has kissed off, kiddies, there’s no kick left in life for me no more, there bein' nobody to chase me!" he sobs, and so did I when I read this. "That bein' the case, I'm goin' to One side, please!" And executin' a back somersault, he fell to the floor deceased, and legend hath it he’s dead to this day!

[agena87]

I woke up super early this morning, so what was I meant to do? I opened the game and created 3 more outfits for Ulrike, 2 for Lory, and 1 for Judith. There's gonna be a lot of sexiness happening in Blender in the next few days (well, it's already happening, I have a 1920s Ulrike looking very hotsy-totsy with her gams and bubs on display; a real sheba*)

*(yes, I did search for 1920s slang just for that)

[mcgnagallsarmy]

Spuffy style Reading Challenge - #7: Decades

1910s:

Proud Trophies Won in Foreign Fight by Baphrosia [NC-17]

Instead of sending Buffy on to her well-deserved reward, Glory's portal spits Buffy out into Spike's evil past.

1920s:

Hear Them Roar by kats_meow [R]

All's swell here in Sunnydale, CA. Ragtime plays. Hotsy-totsy flapper Buffy Summers slays. The bootleg giggle waters flow, and what happens in the military "internment camp" known as Hellville only the HSTs really know. But there’s some kind of phonus balonus on the Hellmouth that’s making the Slayer feel screwy. Not that Buffy wants to be a wet blanket or cast a kitten, but she’s no chump and she’s about to get sore. She can’t toot the wrong ringer, so she’ll have to put the screws on that grifter, Spike - Hostile #17 himself. He’ll either give her the rap, or earn another poke right in the kisser. Savvy? That’s the crop!

1940s:

We Will Remember Them... by Lilachigh [NC-17]

In 1943, to save Dru, Spike agrees to go to France to save the Slayer who is held captive by the Germans. In 2000 Sunnydale, Buffy - newly returned from the grave and in a relationship with Spike - agrees to time travel back to France to save a Slayer and kill a vampire.

1950s:

Milkshakes & Motorcycles by Grief Counseling [NC-17]

Buffy Summers, one heck of a gal, lives in a perfect 1950s All-American suburb of Sunnydale, California. She's a sophomore in college but she lives at home, she’s the neighborhood sweetheart, and loves cherry lollipops, bubblegum, making milkshakes at the diner, and dancing her god-fearing heart out. But what happens when a total dreamboat greaser from across the pond comes a-rumblin’ on his motorcycle to Sunnydale? He turns her pearl-clutching town upside down, that’s what!

1960s:

Bleeding Poetry by Dusty [NC-17]

All his life, the words just bled out.

1970s:

The Darkling by OffYourBird [NC-17]

When Buffy’s quest to get Spike returned to her is fulfilled in an unexpected way, she finds herself in a complicated relationship with an intrigued master vampire who isn’t the man she loves, but who might be someday… if she can convince him to step out of the dark.

1980s:

A Different Kind of Hell by OffYourBird [NC-17] - there is like 1 chapter that takes place in the 80s but this is the most I could find for this decade

Jumping through Glory's tower portal, Buffy and Spike find themselves in a hell dimension they never expected. One that looks suspiciously like 1880's London. Will they find a way back home? Will the truth behind William the Bloody at last make itself known? Will Buffy ever stop butchering the Queen's English? Join them and find out. Starts off at the end of "The Gift."

1990s:

The Butterfly Effect by cousinjean [NC-17]

Five months after the events of "Chosen," a still grieving Buffy must follow a time-travelling demon back to 1997 (circa Season 2) Sunnydale to prevent him from destroying the timeline--and try not to destroy it herself in the process.

2000s:

My Life Closed Twice by anaross [R]

Post-Not Fade Away. Buffy seeks Spike's remains, but then finds him in the most unusal place.

2010s:

Lost & Found by bramcrackers [NC-17]

Set in 2019. 17-year-old Buffy runs from an abusive home and happens to meet a grieving Spike in L.A. Time goes wonky and Buffy ends up back in Sunnydale, trying to navigate the life of a Potential and hold onto her fledgling relationship with Spike.

Fic spanning multiple decades:

A Different Kind of Christmas by OffYourBird [NC-17]

Inconvenient demons, ripped fishnets, and a harried Giles abound. It must be Christmastime with Liz and Elly. Join them for a century and a half of holidays in this special Jumpverse one-shot. (Fair warning: if you haven’t read the previous installments of the Jumpverse, this will likely not make very much sense.)

[beels-burger-babe]

Ah yes, I see my Gen z cringe-fail tiktok talk-a-thon is simply too much for yee-elden yee haw homage, it appears I've been a bit of a wisenheimer and must now face the knuckle sandwich of knowledge that my dialect might be similar to that of an Arf'arf'an'arf. Although, some could say my humor makes me a Sockdolager, but I personally believe they would be full of applesauce even though typing this out is making me a tad bit of a gigglemug. Ngl my home slice bread slice dog, this made my day hotsy-totsy but I do believe it is time for me to hit the hay, as they say!

- 🌟

But I AM Gen Z! Early Gen Z, but Gen Z none the less 😭😭😭 I guess I'm just not hip anymore

[fricndlyghost]

casper kowalski is a "23" year old ghost based on casper from casper the friendly ghost. they are a video store employee with the power of invisibility, psychokinesis and floating. they use they/them pronouns, and some of their memories are intact !

INFO.

full name: casper thomas kowalski

date of birth: november 14th, 1792 ???

hometown: friendship, maine

zodiac: scorpio sun, scorpio moon, cancer rising

sexuality: unknown but definitely into women

education: no official schooling

occupation: video store employee

height: 5'11

hair: white-blonde

eye color: brown

tattoos/piercings: n/a

markings: n/a

mother: mae kowalski

father: john kowalski

siblings: n/a

pets: n/a

PERSONALITY.

positive traits: eager, hopeful, social, persevering, good-natured

negative traits: immature, awkward, rash, silly, clumsy

fears: people disliking them once they find out they're a ghost

likes: comedy movies, making friends, snow, cats, innocent pranks, the sound of laughter, being part of society, funny words

dislikes: being alone, being scary

hobbies: floating around town at night, binging movies, people watching, committing anonymous good deeds (and pranks), learning interesting new facts

aesthetics: dusty bookshelves, toy trains, boyish grins, dimly candlelit rooms, messy hair, vintage televisions, newspaper comics

HEADCANONS.

casper has a very kind heart, despite not having many opportunities to use it; outside of their family they've never really been able to make friends. people see a ghost and immediately freak, even if you're smiling and waving or trying really hard not to sneak up. it was much harder work to be a non-scary ghost than a scary one, so much so that they pretty much put all hope on the backburner of things ever being different until now. no one can be scared of talking to a ghost if they don't know they're talking to a ghost!

unfortunately it's hard to fit in with the humans sometimes. even as much as they practiced, after a lifetime of mindlessly floating, grounding themself is something they have to focus on more than someone who doesn't, well, you know... float. and there's the whole accidentally going invisible when they're distracted thing. and trying to look like their hands are moving items rather than their mind. and not walking through doors. and people.

but it's worth it! casper knows when their cover gets blown it's going to be a problem. even if they're in a town surrounded by vampires and shapeshifters, they are not ghosts. and they may not like ghosts. and they'd be so sad to lose the little life they've built here... especially when there's no way home.

while they're not much of a scarer, casper can be a bit of a prankster. nothing big and nothing to upset people. they just like to do silly relatively harmless things that make someone laugh, like sneak into classrooms and draw funny things on the boards. or move keys. or changing browser extensions on stranger's laptops when they're not paying attention. it's just too easy for them!

on the other side of it, they also have a habit of being a chaotic good. sneaking little notes with compliments in people's books and bags. finding their lost things and bringing them back to them. cleaning up messes they make. and waiting from across the room to watch them look first, confused, then smile. they love to watch people smile.

casper has, despite appearing physically and mentally twenty three, been around for a couple hundred years. they're not really sure how many. who's counting? but in that time they've stocked up a lot of knowledge about various subjects. mostly useless things, but things that interest them. did you know la recherche du temps perdu is the longest book in the world or that or that christmas was illegal at one point in britain? casper does.

because they've been around so long and their parents are so old, they have a bad habit of using aged terms like hotsy-totsy and wet rag.

they're fluent in polish and english.

if they could do anything that humans can do, as much as they'd love a real hug or to kiss someone or taste popcorn or play with face paint... they most of all wish that they could skateboard. it looks so cool when humans do those kickflips and they look like they're having so much fun speeding down the ramps. oh, to be human...

they love cats. all animals are cute and fun and they don't seem as startled by casper, so they make lovely company, but cats? they wish so badly they could pet cats.

winter is their favorite season. they love the snow so much. of course, they can't feel the cold. so that could be why. they just think the falling flakes are so beautiful, the icicles. all the kids playing on their sleds. the christmas lights. they love it. all of it.

they're very playful. a little flirty. it's all in good fun. maybe mostly because... they can't act on it...

being a ghost has its ups and downs and most of the time casper is pretty chill with the whole thing. they have fun with their antics and it's all they know. but it does make them sad from time to time. mostly, though, all they want is a real friend. one person that understands them and won't be scared away. then maybe they wouldn't be so lonely. then maybe they'd be able to accept themselves entirely.

[fabulousdowneybrothers]

365 Days of Sprix Records #352 Mushmouth by Fabulous Downey Brothers written by Sean Downey and Chandra Farnsworth Released on the Fizz EP (Part 2) [Studio Version] Music Video: https://youtu.be/q2temsMkfLc Lyrics: Lookie, you, hot-shot razzmatazz Necking with a Susie and a giving me sass But you better cool it buddy 'cus they're playing my jazz And I had it with your sassafras Hey little mollycoddle doodley doo It's a doozie how floozie got me going all goo When I see, you, hot tomato, want to coochie coo So I give a little looky-loo And she give a little looky too Fill my knickerbocker pocket peppermint stew Got a case of mushy mouth Aint no good to sit around and pout It's all in how you say and what you're talking about So give me that mushy mouth I said, give me that mushy mouth You better give me that mushy mouth and how Jim jam jumping Jehoshaphat Flapping your gums like a dandiprat But you're cruising for a bruising when you're on like that Saying, you just chewing the fat Oh my, cutie-pie. what'l it be Butterscotch phosphate put it on me It's a fizzy I'm a dizzy little fiddle-dee-dee But baby that just the gist 'cus i wanna show you how to twist And it goes a little something like this: doobadoobadoobadoobadoobadoowah doobadoobadoobadoobadoobadoowah doobadoobadoobadoobadoobadoowah doowah doowah doowah yah yah yah yah yah yah yah Whizzbang hot dang diggity dog Cut-a-rug jitterbug bibbedy bop When you fizzle wet your whistle with a soda pop Prissy missy missy at the hop What a zinger humdinger bee's knees Hotsy totsy got some moxy when she ogling me Flammy-gidget gonna fidget when I pretty please Saying, what you going on about Saying, slow it down or babe I'm out 'cus you cant smoochie wooch with a mushy mouth Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/6qagqbxWM1cu7FmPOfmbZZ?si=b7bfeef3b6084d0f BandCamp: https://fabulousdowneybrothers.bandcamp.com/track/mush-mouth Live on KEXP 2012: https://youtu.be/4lGa-xOjXqY

[americanahighways]

Brian Lisik & Hard Legs "Hotsy Totsy"

Brian Lisik & Hard Legs "Hotsy Totsy" @brianlisik #JohnApice @michaeljmedia #newmusic2022 #buymusic #americanahighways #hotsytotsy #americanamusic

Brian Lisik & Hard Legs – Hotsy Totsy Actually, an impressively recorded live document (Rialto Theater in Akron, Ohio, March 12th, 2022) of a band that just puts their toe to the accelerator with pure unadulterated American rock ‘n roll. There’s sludge (probably meant to be there) but it has lift, energy & manages to drive their tunes regardless. The Brian Lisik vocals are enthusiastic but…

[danses-with-dogmeat]

(So sorry for requesting someone from the dlc of nv!) could you write a reaction/headcanon thing where Joshua Graham (fnv), Benny (fnv), and Hancock (fo4) having a crush on Sole/Courier and how they would go about confessing to her? Love your writing btw!

Benny, Joshua Graham, and Hancock having a Crush on F!Six/F!Sole (Headcannons)

Daaaaang, what a lineup you’ve constructed here, Anon! I thank you and applaud you. This was incredible to write! I love all these dudes, and I’m so glad I got to look a lil more into the Ben-man since I really didn’t give him the attention he deserved in my couple play-throughs of NV (holy shit is he a blast to write for), and I’ve never had any interactions with Joshua in-game, but I adore his character, and ugh, my beautiful chaotic good ghoul boi Hancock... ‘nuff said. 

If any of y’all want to see anyone else for this prompt, just lmk! ❤

Links to Parts 2, 3, 4, & 5 of the Crushing Companions Headcannons can be found below!

Benny: 

He’s as surprised as anyone when he finds out about his new-found love for the woman he very nearly executed. It would take him a long time to realize that his thoughts towards her had changed from tentative respect and… well, fear and uncertainty; to hesitant curiosity, to flirtatious interest to... what in the goddamn? Actual attraction? Love?! For the courier… what in the weird 1920s catch phrase was wrong with him?! Oh well, might as well see where this hotsy-totsy jitney is drivin’ em.

Once he realizes his feelings, the Ben-man would be one frustrated cake eater. The suave, flirty tendencies that he's always had now working against him as Six sees them as just another asset of his personality, when, in reality, he really is trying to flirt with her. Figures...

Benny doesn't aim to offend, but his natural tendencies are very sugar daddy-esque; always gifting Six little things, and paying for her food and drinks wherever they go, giving her money to gamble, and parading her around on his arm, showing her off like the dynamite kitten she is. He never asks for anything in return, but he's hoping his gestures might give Six the hint she needs to realize the sincerity of his feelings for her. 

He loves to compliment Six every chance he gets, he's just a smooth talker, okay? And it wouldn't just be on her appearance either (though, those types of compliments would certainly be frequent), he would be sure to comment positively on her personality traits as well. Her strength, her dedication, her resolve, her kindness, her ability to forgive (people for shooting her twice in the head), her passion, her positive outlook on life… you get the idea.

Once he realizes that Six isn’t pickin’ up the clues he’s layin’ out for her, he decides to take it up a notch. Benny plans to tell her outright, to be direct, that's how he likes to operate, after all. So, the chairman takes his lady out for a nice dinner, maybe sees a show, invites her back to his room, and… can't quite seem to get the words out. There they are, sitting on the edge of the bed, she's looking fine as ever, and he's told her that a dozen times throughout the night, he's looking deep into her eyes, the words he longs to say hanging on the edge of his tongue, and yet, he just can't bring himself to say it. This shouldn't be so hard, what did he have to lose? If Six wanted him in the ground, she woulda tried it already, right? They were on good terms, the two of them, and that wasn't about to change cuz he tells her he likes her, right? That'd just make it better, wouldn't it? But… if she didn't return his feelings… why the the hell did that scare him so much?! 

Benny would stand up from the bed, leaving a surprised Courier to remain seated uncertainly as he began to pace around the room. He'd try to say something to her on a few occasions, starting a little differently each time, before stopping dead in his tracks in the middle of the room, bringing his hands to his temples as he tries to clear his head enough to tell them the truth. He aims to keep it plain and simple now. Just out with it, Benny boy, no need to complicate. He'd sit back down, the words running away from his mouth again as he reached out for her. As her gaze dropped down to watch his hand clasp hers, she seemed relaxed, and he took that as a good sign. Benny did often hold her hand, or offer her the crook of his elbow when they were strolling around town, so this shouldn't be overstepping anything. But somehow it felt so… intimate. Instead of chasing down the words he wanted to say, forcing them out in the least eloquent way, he'd decide to take another physical step. One minute they were touching hands, now… Benny leaned in, catching her off guard as her eyes snapped back up just in time to see him coming before his lips crashed into hers. At first, she'd be surprised. In her experience, Benny was all gab, all flirting and smooth talking, tender touches that turned into nothing, but now... This didn’t seem so innocent to her anymore. There was too much earnestness in his touch, too much apprehension in his actions leading up to this, too much desperation as his mouth moved insistently against hers. It didn’t make sense. Perhaps he was finally trying to cash in all of the caps and attention he had been pouring into her since they had reunited. What was he thinking? That he can just throw a few cheap trinkets her way, a decent dinner and a little show, and now she owes him sex? Nuh uh. She doesn’t roll that way. Six would push him away gruffly, prepared to berate the conman for his rudeness before noticing the hurt in his expression as her hands pressed against his chest, his dark eyes forming pools of regret beneath upturned brows. 

Finally, her pleading look would coax the truth out of him, unwavering in its sincerity as she silently begged him to explain himself, if only so she could do the same about her gruff refusal of him.

 "Look baby," he'd say, "I know you don't wanna hear this, but the Ben-man here's got a real shorty doo-op for the dynamite ditty on his duvet." Six would be at a momentary loss for words at his confession, but lucky for him, she's grown pretty fluent in Benny-slang-bullshit-namese and manages to figure out what he's aiming at.

Truth is, Benny doesn't see a reason she'd ever wanna be with him, no matter how he looks, what he wears, what kinda power he's got, where he lives, how many folks he's got working for him, no matter what he can do for her; because he'll still always be the one who hurt her. Who shot her. Who very nearly murdered her. Why she wanted anything at all to do with him, Benny would never know. But when she smiled coyly at him, her eyes shining with a mischief her mouth would later come to echo, he would get the distinct impression that she did in fact, not only want something to do with the chairman, but she wanted a whole lot to do with him. 

She would really have to explain it to him, cuz he would have a hard time grasping the fact that she wanted him in her life at all, but as her partner? Her lover? Her main squeeze? He didn't understand, but gee-willies, he didn't mind one bit.

Joshua Graham:

It takes him a long time to realize the depths of his feelings for the courier, and even when he does, he would try to deny them. But how can he walk beside this person, who so selflessly aided him in his time of need, who helped him of her own accord, without anyone to command her to, without faith to guide her, and only out of the simple kindness of her own heart,  and not have strong feelings towards her? 

Though he initially has difficulty accepting how he has come to feel for her, his actions make it relatively obvious. The way Joshua always insists on being at Six’s side, relentlessly defending her, always listening to what she has to say, seeking her feedback in every situation; the way he opens up to her about his past, presenting to her the many mistakes he has made over his life for her judgment… all of this he does even before he really realizes how he feels. It is when, after she aided him in his endeavor to rid Zion of the White Legs, even though it was hardly her fight; and after he told her of his checkered past, his own side of the story regarding Caesar and the Legion, and she remained by his side, that he knew he was in love with her. When he poured himself out in front of her, and she chose to forgive him, as God once had, it made him feel that divine sense of significance all over again. But this time, it wasn't the harsh burning of his past sins encasing him in their blistering glory, it was a soft and gentle embrace, a kind word that sought to save him from whatever remainder of his sins were left inside him. That sought to show him a love that he wasn't familiar with, one that he thought he would never be able to achieve. How could he be worthy of worldly love after all he's done? He thought he was beyond fortunate to have the Lord on his side, thought God's love was all that he could possibly be entitled to, and only in exchange for his lifelong devotion. Now though, he dared to believe that he could have more… but only if that's what Six wants. 

He has a hard time believing she could want that. After all, it wouldn't be easy to love him, he knew this, he certainly had been struggling with it his whole life, so how could he expect it from someone like her? The former legate would be content to simply let his love for her be enough, not expecting anything in return, not needing it. But over time, it would be more and more difficult to continue traveling at her side without being able to express how he truly feels. In the end, he decides that she deserves to know the truth. Then she can make her own decision, but he cannot go a moment longer holding this secret inside him. 

He waits for the pair to be somewhere secluded, somewhere in nature, the divine beauty of the landscape giving him the courage and support he needs to be honest and vulnerable. They would sit somewhere peaceful, gazing out over the land below as he asks if he could tell her something important. He could feel her uncertainty at his question, knowing it wasn't often that he simply offered to open up like this, but he pressed on with it once she agreed to hear him out. Joshua's not one to beat around the bush, he would tell her outright that he wanted her to know that his feelings for her had grown to be more than platonic, but he would assure her that he didn't intend for their relationship to change. He just finally needed her to know the truth about the feelings he's been harboring for so long.

To that, she would voice her own concern, curious as to why he thought they shouldn't change their relationship, especially if they felt the same way about one another. 

The missionary's stark blue eyes would widen as he turned his attention from the horizon to meet her earnest gaze, noting the utter sincerity shining in the depths of her enchanting eyes. He would curse the bandages upon his face, as they concealed his softened expression. His parted lips forming a veiled smile beneath the linen material as he felt his heart thudding in his chest at her words. She feels the same way? Why? How had he not considered this outcome? 

Seeing his struggle in response to her news, Six would need to take the initiative for a moment, reaffirming her words as she leaned in to lightly press her lips against his own, bandages be damned. He expected to feel pain at the pressure against his flame-torn flesh, but her contact was so delicate, so soft, that he hardly noticed the feeling of it. Instead, he relished in the sense that she was willing to press forward, to try, to give an effort to be with him even given the scars that littered both his flesh and his past.

Hancock:

Poor Handcock's behavior would actually be rather contradicting. As his flirty, cocky, and cool exterior would melt away into a nervous ball of insecurities that would rival even that of Travis Miles. Rather than becoming more flirty and forward, he would become more reserved towards Sole, his compliments would be less frequent but much more meaningful, and his physical contact with her would be nearly obsolete, as he would be afraid of revealing his true feelings and unintentionally pushing too hard. 

Truth is, Hancock's been with loads of partners, and has been in more than a few relationships, though none had been particularly serious. But now, Sole comes along, and she's just… perfect, she is everything Hancock could ever hope to have and so much more than a ghoul like him had any right to. She shares so many of the same values as he does; she's selfless, and caring, and brave, and he already cares about her to the point of being in love, and they're not even together… that's never happened to him before. With this knowledge that he cares about her so deeply, that he needs her in his life and couldn't possibly live without her, he becomes so damn nervous around her that he's afraid to fuck it up before they even get the chance to be with one another. But… he supposed he could stand for simply bottling up his feelings, resigning himself to just spending time with her as her traveling companion, as her friend, and nothing more. If it meant keeping her in his life, then he could do that. Couldn’t he? He may just have to. Unless...

Though Hancock truly does have issues with his own self esteem, he eventually decides to let himself trust in Sole's judgement. He may not think of himself as being worthy of her, but if she assures him that he is what she wants? He'll believe in her choice, and be absolutely over the moon at her decision to give him a chance. 

Even before they're together, the ghoul would do most anything for Sole. He's a fantastic listener, so if she mentions something that she may want, he'll store that away, keeping it in mind as they travel, and actively searching for whatever it might be so he can gift it to her at the right time. And he loves simply talking to her. About anything and everything: their interests, their past, where they think their future will take them, politics, religion, beliefs, history. All. Of. It.  

It would be in a moment like this, just before the pair turn in for the night, after some deep conversation between them as they settled in, that Hancock finally does get the courage to confess. Sole will have to be patient with him, as he would do it in some roundabout way, afraid to be too direct in case she rejects him outright. He would begin by talking about how far they've come, and what it means to him to have her in his life, how lucky he feels to be able to travel the Commonwealth with the likes of her. As her confused expression set in, Hancock would nervously try to speed up the confession, often repeating a lot of what he just said in an attempt to let her know how much he cares for her. When that failed to get the point across, he would begin to compliment her relentlessly, saying all that he sees her as, how incredible she is, how gorgeous, and lovely, and kind-hearted, and strong; as she looks on with bewilderment, wondering to herself where he was going with all this as a flustered smile lights up her blushing, pink face. Man, he sure knows how to make a woman feel special... but he says this kind of stuff with lots of people... doesn’t he? 

When Sole finally cuts him off again, asking gently if he has an ending in mind, he would sigh deeply. Having failed at his attempt at being somewhat subtle, Hancock would finally find the courage to admit to her what he was trying to say. What he's been trying to say for ages now. It would be a simple confession, his words inviting any form or response without demanding any kind of direct reciprocation. He would simply state that he's in love with her, and that he felt like she had a right to know it. He'd harness the courage to look her in the eyes as he told her the truth about his feelings; but afterwards, he couldn't hold her gaze, instead he would opt for the security of peering down at his own lap as he sat beside her, picking nervously at his nails without realizing it. 

He hardly expected any kind of response. If he was lucky, she would nod, thank him for telling her, and say goodnight, turning her back to the sofa he had agreed to sleep on, and they would resume their travels in the morning without really acknowledging what he had said the night before. But hey, at least he was able to get it all off his chest. If he wasn't lucky… well, she might send him away now, for good. And he wasn't sure if he could cope with that shit.  

He never could have expected her true reaction though, as she brought a hand up to smooth over his roughened cheek, drawing his attention back up to her gaze, before she brought her head forwards slowly, closing her eyes as Hancock's widened at her action. The ghoul always adored Sole's lips, but he never could have fathomed how soft they would be against his own. The feeling of her mouth on his was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but deepen the kiss, his mind demanding to know why it took him so damn long to tell her how he felt if this was going to be the outcome.

Part 2 (Arcade, Butch, Piper, Preston, and Veronica)

Part 3 (Benny, Butch, & Danse with M!Six/M!Lone/M!Sole)

Part 4 (Danse, Deacon, & X6-88)

Part 5 (Gage, MacCready, & Maxson)

[roseclaw]

WIP Wednesday

more vampires! NHS is a little bit cursed, and QS has had a long night

“How do you feel, Huaisang?” she asked.

Nie Huaisang stared at her as his face began to flush with the blood he had just had. He then turned to stare at Jiang Cheng, his chin, lips, and fangs still stained. His gaze turned hungry.

“Huaisang,” the woman said sternly, and Nie Huaisang turned back to look at her. “I need to know what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

“I need his blood,” Nie Huaisang said, eyes shifting to Jiang Cheng’s neck. “There was - I need his blood.”

“Why is that?” she asked. Her voice was soft but there was a bit of concern in it. Not concern for Nie Huaisang.

“Spell.”

The woman looked at Jiang Cheng from the corner of her eye, before she turned her focus back to Nie Huaisang.

“My blood makes him drunk,” Jiang Cheng explained.

“It’s the bee’s knees,” Nie Huaisang said. He struggled to sit up. “He’s the bee’s knees. Hotsy-totsy.”

“I don’t want to make it worse,” the woman said to Jiang Cheng. “But if you’d like to donate a bit of blood, we can see if that will actually help or if he’s full of horseshit.”

“Never,” Nie Huaisang gasped. He sounded exhausted. “I speak truths.”

“I’ve never seen anyone more full of horseshit,” she said, patting Nie Huaisang on the hand consolingly. “Except maybe…” She didn’t complete her thought.

“If it will help,” Jiang Cheng said. He pulled out his pocket knife. “Do you have a glass or do you want to reuse…” He pointed to the empty bottle still in Nie Huaisang’s hand.

The woman stared at him in horror. “No,” she exclaimed. “We have proper medical equipment. What is wrong with men?” She huffed. “Come with me. Nie Huaisang, you had better stay right where you are.”

He waved the empty bottle at her.

[angel-fxced]

‘Sing Your Heart Out’

Angel didn't even hear Verosika, just having a field day with old DVDs that were supposed to be thrown away and was singing into a hairbrush in their underwear while dancing on beat with hair flips and hip shimmies like one does when they think they're alone.

" If the people get live underneath the moonlight

Hotsy-totsy, paparazzi, hold it while I take this pic

Speakeasy, rockin' the feathers, I'm breezy

Hope you can keep up boys, cause believe me, I’m the bee's knees

It don't mean a thing if I give you my heart

If you tear it apart, no! It don't mean a thing if I ain't in your eyes!

Papa that ain't gonna fly, no, ah-ah-ah, ow ! ~ "

The moment they spun around and saw the succubus, the brush was thrown and the spider disappeared in embarrassment.

[creepy-crowleys]

Subject: Once More Into the Tower From: Daimon Kiyota

Hey there, you hotsy-totsy cat! I was just getting zotzed on old memories and the lovely music of my dear friend, the Pachinko Machine. A little giggle water and the lovely little balls did the weirdest thing. They spelled out your number! Got me grummy, remembering the old times. Recall when we tapdanced beneath the waves right past those dapper droppers and right up to Samael’s house in the sky? Ah, good times.

I never did thank you properly, did I? You probably didn’t even lay peepers on the real prize. Oh but these mitts, they danced and played music on the vault. They pinched such a darb sta- my position with the Dragon. And I have YOU to thank! But we didn’t chill the whole tower. Orochi has 8 heads. 8 sets of peepers, 8 jaws of flame.

Jeepers Creepers! I got it! You like your chin music. I love to watch you play. Orochi has a lovely little secret, buried below. Guarded by hatchetmen and tinmen and hotsy-totsy bangers! There’s more to the tunnels. We went North when we swam through the concrete. You go South, you’ll find the way to their playground. Have fun!

[hellizens-a]

@succusweets​ asked: She’s staring at her boyfriend with that cute look on her face as she wags her tail. She just loves him!~

Cue him clicking off his microphone before leaning down to meet her height, with his left hand tucked against his chest and his right held out palm up towards her in offering.

“Hello, my hotsy-totsy bearcat! To what do I owe the pleasure of receiving such a loving gaze from you?”