#and i did indeed have donuts in the end

[unopenablebox]

so many people are nice to me and do not mock me even when i am being exceedingly tragic about not having any donuts

[midnightsunnyday]

The Contract

Diavolo: so then, I assume everyone is caught up on the rules of Extream Chessmaster: Sudden Death Edition, yes?

*everyone groans*

Diavolo: I'll take that as a resounding yes! Now then, as for the teams, Lucifer and I will be--

MC: hold it one second, mister! *pulls out a fancy slip of paper*

Diavolo: *clears throat* "And so, in the event that I, Lord Diavolo, current and acting prince of the Devildom, randomly proposes a game or event that threatens the continued health, longevity, and sanity of mortal life, hearby pronounce the human known as MC 100 free "Claim Lucifer" cards for their assured well-being, lack of death, and overall fair chance of competition." Huh. How curious.

Lucifer: how curious indeed.

Barbatos: that does look to be your handwriting, Young Master.

Lucifer: and your signature.

Diavolo: indeed they are. Though I'm not sure if I recall ever writing such a thing *smiles mischievously*

Mammon: oh, well isn't that convenient, then? Show em, MC!

MC: *pulls out tape recorder* *in Diavolo's voice* um, testing, testing. Is this thing working? *laughs* I always wanted to try that! Anyway, this recording acts as further verbal clarification that I, Lord Diavolo, current and active prince of the Devildom, did in fact write and sign the "Claim Lucifer" contract for MC under no threat of violence, lack of mental clarity, or under the influence of any substance. There, is that all? What do you mean there's more?

Diavolo: *pouts* well, that can't be fair.

MC: *fast forwards recording*

Mammon: I still don't know why you need Pridy McPrideface in the first place when ya got me, but fine! I, the GREAT Mammon, current and active Avatar of Greed and one of the seven lords of hell, blah, blah, blah, hearby announce myself as acting witness to the "Claim Lucifer" contract to avoid future denial and dismissal.

Satan: while I, Satan, Avatar of Wrath and one of the seven rulers of hell, act as signatory.

Belphegor: hm? Oh, right, what they said.

Beelzebub: and I'm also here.

Satan: now then, I need you all to sign here...and here...and here...Beel, stop drooling! And...done! There. The contract is now approved.

MC: thanks guys.

Mammon: *spats* yeah, whatever. You both owe me!

Diavolo: was all of this really necessary?

MC: *mumbles* considering how much of a brat you are, yes.

Diavolo: pardon?

MC: nothing!

Belphegor: trust us. The more grief Lucifer goes through the better. And there's no one Lucifer griefs over more than MC.

Satan: indeed. They're like a walking hazard sign. Surely he'll pass out from the stress alone.

MC: hey!

Satan: and so concludes our little meeting. Have fun...Lucifer.

MC: *ends recording*

Beelzebub: oh, yeah I remember that *drools* Those donuts were delicious.

Leviathan: so the Anti-Lucifer Leauge strikes again!

Asmodeus: leave it to Satan and Belphie.

Lucifer: *glares* Pridy McPrideface, was it?

Mammon: eek!

Barbatos: regardless, that is indeed the Young Master's voice.

Lucifer: it would seem so *frowns* Though I don't think I care that the entirety of my free will has been lessened to that of a slip of paper. Or how any of this is legal without my presence!

Mammon: eh, don't worry about it.

Asmodeus: 100 free "Claim Lucifer" slips, hm? There's no telling what one could do with those.

Leviathan: right? Imagine what would happen if they got into the wrong hands? Especially Asmo's?

Asmodeus: hey! I'm the sweetest and fairest capture you could ever have! My 100 step spa routine is to die for!

Leviathan: a 100 step spa routine? Sounds more like torture.

Diavolo: you are aware that I could just revoke all of this, yes? After all, I am a prince.

Lucifer: that would be appreciated, yes.

MC: true, you could. But then I'd never speak to you again. And can you really handle that? Can you?

Diavolo: preposterous.

MC: hm? What was that? I could've sworn I heard someone.

Diavolo: you wouldn't.

MC: ...

Diavolo: ...

MC: ...

Diavolo: ...Darn it! Lucifer, just...go.

Lucifer: *sighs and walks over to MC's side* honestly, I can't believe either of you.

MC: yay! I knew these would come in handy. Ready to win, buddy?

Lucifer: not particularly.

MC: aw, come on. It'll be fun.

Lucifer: hardly *smiles maliciously* Though not as fun as what I plan to do with one of my 100 free "Make MC Do As I Say For A Day" cards.

MC: ...I don't recall agreeing to those.

Lucifer: is that right? *pulls out a fancy slip of paper*

MC: "And so, in the event that I, MC, current and acting representative of the entire human race, use one of my 100 "Claim Lucifer" cards--" Oh, come on!

Belphegor: looks like Lucifer had this planned from the beginning. Typical.

Satan: even when he looses he wins. It's infuriating!

Mammon: hey! Just why the hell is he the only one with those cards, huh? Fork em over!

Leviathan: that's right! No monopolizing over MC. This is a democracy!

Asmodeus: yeah, what Levi said! I think.

Beelzebub: it's ok, MC. We can hang out whenever you want.

Belphegor: you're being way too nice about this, Beel.

MC: aw, thank you, Beel. You know, all of you could learn a thing or two from your younger brother. Frankly, I don't think I care that the entirety of my free will has been lessened to that of a slip of paper. I'm a human being not an item! And isn't that what matters most?

*silence*

Belphegor: ...no offense, Lord Diavolo, but I don't think I'm in the mood to play games anymore. Not that I ever was.

Satan: you're right, Belphie. In fact...Lord Diavolo, how would you like to negotiate a contract? Concerning MC, of course?

Diavolo: concerning MC, you say? Barbatos?

Barbatos: it would seem that your schedule is conveniently clear for today, Young Master.

Lucifer: how fortunate. As is mine.

MC: I don't like where this is going.

Mammon: eh, don't worry about it.

Asmodeus: ooh, ooh! I want 500 MC cards! No, one million!

Mammon: you're not thinking high enough! I want a quadrillion! Times 500 quadrillion!

Solomon, walking in with Luke and Simeon: hello everyone, sorry we're late, we--

Mammon: yeah, yeah, can't talk bye!

*everyone rushes out of the room*

Luke: uh, where is everyone going?

MC: to sign my life away.

Simeon: should we...be concerned about that?

MC: possibly.

Solomon: I suppose we should all try to stop them.

MC: YOU SUPPOSE?

Luke: can someone please tell me what's going on?

Simeon: we'll...tell you when you're older, Luke.

Luke: no fair! You always say that!

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Okay I NEED to know your NSFW alphabet on Mr Mickey Altieri! I know requests are closed but you’re my favourite smut writer of all time and I know you’d DEVOUR

Oh Anon! I’m your favourite?! That is so sweet! So I know the requests are closed indeed but Mickey has been hitting and hitting hard as of late and it’s been too long since I have done an alphabet so let’s get into it and treat you and everyone else too!

---

Mickey Altieri NSFW Alphabet.

---

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

So this is very dependent I feel on what you did previously, you get appropriate aftercare based off of the scene, something very kink filled and intense? More aftercare in accordance. He is really keyed into your needs, I think his favourite form of aftercare is sharing a shower together to clean up, followed up with getting some food, with lots of casual physical closeness and affection all throughout, a real cuddler when all is said and done, also not fussy at all about letting you sleepover in his bed.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Oooh now this is an interesting one to think about. I like to think that Mickey is really into how he looks without his shirt on, not insecure about that in the least, a bit unconventional but not in a dickish overly confident way, he just knows he is put together well in the regard, arms, chest, stomach, he looks just flat out good, not super strong or cut but let’s call it, defined. He is very well defined. 

Mickey is an ass man. I don’t make the rules but he just reads as an ass man. Loves, loves, loves how it looks in jeans, loves touching, holding onto it while fucking you, spreading you open, just all of it, loves.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Can you say cumwhore? Cuz I can. I think he loves it messy and dirty, this guy wants to make a mess of you, he wants to cum on or in you! A fave is in doggy style, he let’s off a shot in you and then pulls out, strokes himself and finishes the rest of the way over your ass and adores to watch it from there, how it leaks out of your hole and runs down your skin, more glazed than a fresh Krispy Kreme donut. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Okay going back into the cum thing! You know what is one of his biggest and hottest fantasies? Hear me out! He kills someone in his apartment, a real messy, nasty affair, he cleans it all up and then you come over. He is still high off the kill, you fuck, he pulls out, he cums on you but whoops, some of it ends up on the floor. Whatever to do? He forces you down there, he makes you lick up the mess, getting off on the fact that he killed someone earlier in that very spot with you, totally and completely unaware of that fact. It is dirty and degrading and that is part of what makes it so hot! He loves how depraved and wrong it is. Also he is almost always hard when killing someone.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Mickey gives me the vibe that he reinvented himself in a big way when he got to college, not saying he was a loser in high school but he certainly doesn’t read as too much of a player or a fuckboy back then but not a virgin either. I think he has fucked around a good amount for someone his age, slightly above average number and experience. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Face down ass up. No question to me at all, loves the control of it, loves the submission, the view, you just know sometimes when he is really into it he has a hand on the back of your head or the side of your face, holding you down extra hard as he is just railing into you. He loves how deep he can get in this position too, and the sounds he can make you make? Fantastic.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Intense for sure, but the guy can be a bit silly or goofy, can crack a few jokes, isn’t afraid to laugh a bit like any good partner is able to in my opinion. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The dude is well trimmed with good hygiene no doubt, nails trimmed and yes I would say the hair matches the darker base he has, I doubt he has the highlights down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I think he can be a really charming guy and yes he can be romantic but hear me out, I think that comes out the most with someone he can be totally vulnerable and open with. I think the ultimate ideal is to have a killer partner, someone he can share that part of himself with and who fully understands it. The intimacy of that, the bonding of those experiences makes him just a little soft and sappy. A killer partner brings out the romance in him in a massive way.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

The guy is getting off at least once every two days but prefers once a day at minimum. The sessions are usually quick and dirty, a fistful of lube and some tissues ready to go in the other while thinking of some of his favorite memories from previous kills and he is good. Once a week though there has to be a longer and more dedicated session, more time and care is taken to really make sure he explodes. One of those orgasms that leaves you sleepy and satisfied down to your bones, you know? Has jerked off in some risky places to increase the pleasure, would do so again. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Video Taping: This man wants to make a sex tape. He wants to film you. He wants to capture you on film and have it always. Almost exclusively what he likes to get off to during those longer sessions.

Cock Worship: Act like you love his dick and need it more than air, make love to his cock with your mouth please, play it up, act like his personal porn star and pour on the praise too, please.

Gagging/Choking: He wants to make you gag on his dick, he wants you to WEAR a gag, the muffled sounds do everything for him as you struggle to communicate, he loves to have a hand on you throat and choking you, the danger and the rest does it for him.

Spitting: Let him spit in your mouth, spit is the best lube to him, it adds to the mess in a wonderful way he can’t get enough of. 

Edging/Denial: He likes being a dick, he likes working you up, he enjoys denying you and making you a needy, desperate, writhing thing, begging for relief, (he also loves begging)

Forced Orgasm: And then this is the flip side, he loves forcing you to cum over and over again. Which mood will you get? Who’s to say. Also who’s to say he won’t mix them? Extended edging and denial leading to forced orgasms galore. 

And let’s run a few more through here, home invasion scenarios, rope play, knife kink, exhibitionism, risky semi-public hook-ups, dirty talk. And there is of course more but that is good for now.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Places that you should not be fucking. Stairwells, empty classrooms on campus, the library stacks, in front of a window at night, just places that you should not be and seriously risk getting caught.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Danger, risk, someone showing clear interest in him, getting his ego stroked. Also I think the guy has a soft spot for some lingerie, but not the really fancy stuff, I am thinking a matched bra and panty set that strikes the balance right in the middle between high end special occasion stuff and everyday cotton, some nicer materials, a little lace, a cute bit of detailing like a bow. Hot, inviting, decidedly not ostentatious though, you clearly put it on in hopes he would see it but you are still comfortable. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Okay I don’t think he would ever go to a sex club. He likes doing it places that you aren’t supposed to, he likes the risk, going to a place that is built in to fuck in public? Having people see you like that start to finish? No, too vulnerable, too open, takes a lot of the fun out of it. The idea is fun for five seconds before he thinks seriously about it, he doesn’t even like the idea of just watching strangers bang it out, that is what renting porn tapes is for. Also, do not degrade him during sex, he can do that to you, but do not talk down to him while fucking in any kind of serious capacity, it will not go over well.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He wants to take, he loves to receive more than he gives, loves to have you on your knees or however with his dick in your mouth and down your throat. A big favourite, the best way to get rid of early morning wood is in your mouth. A million ways to get head, a fast and hard throat fuck or a slow and languid lazy blow job are both great. This man would also go to a glory hole with you, strikes the balance between public and the rest enough to click just so. 

He gives though! Oh he gives, he is no slouch when it comes to oral he just prefers to get it and will give great direction and praise when getting, but he gives. He is pretty skillful, he listens and pays attention, and again, he loves it messy. If he can get you to squirt while he is down there the dude has the biggest and cockiest grin all damn day. Also his preferred method of edging is with you on the end of his tongue. Also the man can get down with a good 69, on the couch? Midway through watching a movie? Seeing who can make who break and cum first? Yes.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the day but fast and rough is his usual modus operandi. He can slow it down and get softer for fucking sure and can really enjoy it in the right context but fast and hard just feels so good and is amazing to get caught up in, it’s hard to resist. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves, loves, loves a good quickie, sneaking one in on lunch, between classes, here and there, boosts his mood in a major way, makes him extremely happy. Would like a few a week, doesn’t have to be outright full penetration, oral and hand stuff is more than okay for a quick one and helps keep things fresh and interesting.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes! As I have laid out here multiple times he looooves risks. Also he is super into trying whatever you want for the most part he will try anything once. Only risk he is not about is a pregnancy risk, too young with too much to worry about and do without bringing a kid into it all. Loves cumming in you raw though so if you can get pregnant some form of birth control is a must.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He is a young, dumb and hung college guy! He is healthy, some decent athleticism, of course he can go for multiple rounds. He has pretty good control on himself and when he busts, the first round is the shortest but give him a good ten minutes and he is right back to it, will touch and/or eat you out until he is hard again and up to the task. Overall average length rounds, he goes two with relative ease, most in one night I would say is five.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I do not think he owns any toys himself, he owns rope though and gets real creative with it. He would use toys on you if you had any, I think he would love to use vibrators in particular on his partner, they make his whole forced orgasm kink go nuts, making it much easier to achieve, he would use them till you are an overstimulated wreck. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

So. Much. He loves to tease, a favourite hobby and pastime, he can, would and will tease you any time, any place and can be totally relentless. If you cry maybe he will stop. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Due to a lot of the risky hookups he likes to engage in he cannot be that loud. He will still whisper filthy things in your ear and let out some solid groans that he cannot rein in because it just feels too good. Alone? He is much louder. Cursing, panting, praise, degradation, and you guessed it, even more dirty talk.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Mickey loves overstimuation but not just doing it to you, he likes it being done to him too but won’t ask for it at first. You continuing to suck after he has already cum has him inhaling sharply, sucking his teeth and gripping his seat for dear life, squirming and gasping like, “Shi-shit! Fuck, oh my Goddd, it’s too much-” He’s lying. Don’t stop.

He does it to himself too. Even after he has cum in you, he keeps on moving, grinding his hips, fucking into you with his still hard dick and practically whining, “Hurts s’ good-” He just can’t stop himself! The pleasurepain on occasion is a good change of pace, totally enjoyable. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

The guy is thick, I think he has a slightly above average length but he is thick, well above average girth, it takes some care to get it in but my lord the stretch! Gorgeous. Circumcised, pretty pink head, pronounced veins, the balls are a good solid handful and just begging to be played with (carefully, a little rough treatment sometimes, but carefully still), good upward curve, leans just a touch to the left. Pre-cum is a rare affair but he makes up for it with some truly thick and plentiful loads. I am talking if you are blowing him be prepared to swallow at least once in the middle to make sure you get it all in you without making a mess. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

The dude has a healthy sex drive, he wants to fuck at least three times a week, two quickies with one longer session, and he needs a few of those kinks satisfied every other time at least. He will not turn you down, if you have a higher drive and want it five times a week he can give you that. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Soon as the aftercare is done the guy is out. If it is a bigger, longer, kinky session at night where you guys are actually in a bed, nowhere to be and he can crash then yes, he is falling asleep wrapped around you. Cuddly sleeper. 

[yanderes-galore]

Ah crap I'm still in your room....

Uhhhhh... Oh yeah! Mind if I ask for a Miss Pauling with a Blu Scout darling? Like a concept? Maybe how'd she fair with a Scout who doesn't flirt? Maybe they're more into reading books rather than being the "Man-child" like Red scout?

Ah yea, here!

☕🍩

*Slowly no clips out of your room*

Here's one of the many Miss Pauling requests I got this run, lol. Here you go! You all really enjoy her, huh? ^^

Oooo, donuts :D Thanks 👍💜🍩

Yandere! Miss Pauling with BLU Scout! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Manipulation, Invasion of privacy, Implied stalking, Pauling being creepy with her crush again, Planned kidnapping, Implied forced relationship, Hypocritical beliefs.

Pauling no doubt gets tired of the flirting given by RED Scout.

He just doesn't understand she's not interested.

In fact with her job she shouldn't even be considering relationships.

She tells Scout, or Jeremy as his file states, that she has to keep her word.

She's relieved it at least deters him for a bit.

This alone sort of scares her to meet the scout of BLU team.

Are you going to be just as flirty as he was?

It was her job to check both teams monthly, even more so if they've recently gained new members.

You had been the new scout of BLU team.

She's been told you're promising... yet she did not keep her hopes up.

She sighs, bracing herself for the onslaught of failed date attempts.

. . . .

Yet they never came.

Pauling felt she could breathe easily when her personal space wasn't being violated.

She did wonder where you were though....

She decides to ask someone from the team.

"Where's your new scout?"

"(Y/N)? Oh, they're reading a book somewhere in the base."

"Reading?"

"Yeah, the last one never liked books. It's a nice change to not have someone acting like a child around here."

Pauling was... perplexed.

You certainly didn't sound like any scout she knew.

You must not be a clone.

This began her search for you somewhere in BLU base.

She thought she'd never find you, which was uncharacteristic yet again, until she saw you perched upon some barrels deep in a book.

Yup, you certainly looked different than the others-

Pauling clears her throat, causing you to glance up.

"Oh? You're the inspector lady, right?"

"... yeah. You can call me Miss Pauling. I check out the bases monthly to make sure you have all your members. You're new to BLU, right?"

"Yeah."

"Is BLU team treating you well?"

"Mhm."

"... you don't like flirting, right?"

"That's an odd question...."

Her first experience with you is rather dismissive on your end.

She asked questions, you gave curt answers.

She did tests and you were indeed capable of the scout role.

You were fast and well trained with a scattergun, pistol, and bat.

You were definitely a scout....

She was just surprised by your personality.

Pauling would enjoy the ability to communicate with a team without being flirted with.

In fact she can barely tolerate the RED Scout anymore.

She keeps thinking back to you, the new scout on BLU team.

Hell... the only scout who respects her boundaries.

Isn't it funny how she soon does the exact opposite with you?

She's upset Jeremy won't respect her boundaries...

She then meets you who respects her boundaries...

Then she proceeds disrespect your boundaries in a desperate chase to be closer.

It's ironic and sad.

You simply want to read/do your job and Pauling is trying to situate herself as your friend.

It's innocent at first.

Friends you don't mind.

You get along and talk whenever she has the time.

Then she feels she wants to be even closer to you... while you want to do your job.

She doesn't like to flirt, but with the amount of questions she asks you you'd swear she was.

Pauling is being manipulative without meaning to.

She essentially becomes your Jeremy.

There's times you ask your team to hide you when she comes around.

You genuinely can't handle her invasive questions.

She gets upset when you avoid her.

Perhaps even a little jealous you trust your team more than her.

Maybe this job wasn't meant for you.

Maybe she can pull you from the scout role and move you?

Pauling wonders if she can bring you to her team, PURPLE....

It's against code but she considers it.

It's funny how she said she shouldn't be considering relationships...

Yet here she is, already planning to remove you from this unfitting environment.

[writtenonreceipts]

Prompt The things we can't say: Rhys telling his mom and sister he's dating (like Rhys' mom trying to make him date😂😂 he's like 😅 heee I'm fine and he ends up saying he's dating😂😂😂 I think it would too funny and cute)

last fic update for the year!  TTWCS reached over 6k hits on ao3, which i know in comparison to other writers is miniscule, but it means a lot this random story i started writing this year means something to you all.  happy new years and stay safe friends!

The Things We Cannot Say Masterlist // AO3

warnings: none, just my timeline is a mess so don’t ask me details on that...my bad.

...

The Things We Tell Others

>>Miss you ;)

The text from Feyre winked across his screen and he couldn’t help but smirk down at it.  They’d only been dating four months at this point, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t already infatuated with her.

They’d spent so much time together already, with her coming to the club, him visiting her at her art studio, and time in between talking or meeting for coffee.  The past few days they’d both been busy though and their communication was strictly text.

<<Miss you too.

He sent the message and headed into the small cafe a few blocks away from the club.  It didn’t take him long to find the two people he was meeting.

“Rhys!”

Thea lept from her seat in the back corner and was navigating through the other tables to throw herself at him.  Rhys caught his sister easily and pulled her into a bone crushing hug.  She smelled like lavender and lemon, familiar and comforting.

“Hey kid,” he laughed, swinging her around.  He released her and held her back at an arm's length. “When did you get so tall?”

Thea rolled her eyes. “It’s the curse of the Avitas’.  C’mon!  We ordered some mini-donuts.”

Rhys let his sister pull him back to the table where their mother was still waiting.  Alanna was beaming and wasted no time in standing and pulling him into a hug.

“I am so glad you’re here,” Alanna told him.

“Of course, I’m here,” Rhys replied.  He gave his mother a look, keeping a firm hold on her hand.

“I know that your father tried to get you to come to the event next week,” Alanna said. “I don’t know what he said or did, but…well it must have given him enough guilt because here we are.”

They took their seats again and a waiter came by to get Rhys some water.

“It’s fine,” Rhys said. “I wanted to see the two of you.  It’s worth it.”

While Rhys had been cut off from the family, to Benham’s devout insistence--things had changed in the last year.  Now that Rhys’ business was doing well and he’d even been asked to attend some networking events and do more networking that he couldn't pass off to Cas or AZ unless they were supervised.

At one such event he'd met his father, the first time seeing him in a long while. As it turned out the family business needed to host an event and The Court had been chosen. Without Benham knowing of course.  But it would mean having to interact with his father more than usual. But they'd come to an agreement that Rhys could see his mother and sister. Once. For now. Rhys was still a disappointment and failure to the family name of course.

"Now,” Alanna said, "tell me everything.  How are my other boys?"

"They're good," Rhys smiled, his mother had always seen Cas and Azriel as her own ever since Rhys brought them over at eight after giving Cas a black eye. His mother had asked no questions and only opened up her heart to let them in.

"Just good? Are you sure you boys are eating enough? I can go to the store with you and fill your fridge." Alanna was entirely serious.  If Rhys wasn't careful, his mother would indeed go to the store for him.  She’d then go to Home Goods and Costco just to be on the safe side.

“Mother,” Rhys began.

Alanna waved a hand, cutting him off.  "I just want to make sure you're taken care of."

"I know," he said. "and I'm glad you're here, you and Thea."

"Oh thanks, I thought you forgot about me again,” Thea said casually.  Rhys rolled his eyes and Alanna sighed.  Thea grinned. “Just saying it’s been five minutes and you haven’t even asked how I am.”

“How are you Thea?” Rhys asked patiently.  She kicked him beneath the table.

“I got into advanced chemistry, thanks for asking,” Thea replied. “Now, the important question is, how are you?  I’m supposed to be the one to ask you so mom can tell you she wants to set you up with someone.”

Alanna let out another sigh and dragged the small plate of mini-donuts closer to herself.

“Althea,” Alana chided. Though, in Rhys’ opinion, she looked none too upset by Thea’s brazen words.

“Please, ma, you would have taken twenty minutes to get there,” Thea said, a happy little grin sliding across her features, “this way we get to see Rhys make that face.”

Indeed, Rhys was making a face.  He could feel his eyes widen, frown deepen, and a sense of unease flood his body.  Hell.

“Mother,” Rhys began.

Alanna waved a hand to dismiss his comments. “I have a friend with a daughter that just graduated, she’s teaching kindergarten and is a delight.  I can give you her number.  You can’t scare her off.  I know you, Rhysand.  Just because you own a nightclub doesn’t mean anything.”

“Mother,” Rhys said again.  Thea pulled her phone out with a great flourish, training it on him to capture each of his reactions.  Rhys glared while she grinned. “I don’t need anyone’s number.”

His mother only raised a brow in that way he had missed.

“I haven’t smothered you in long enough,” she reminded him, “consider this is me making up for lost time.”

“Ma,” Rhys said.  He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “You can smother me all you want, but I’m alright in this.”

“Are you telling me,” Alanna said, leaning across the table to examine her son carefully, a far too knowing look in her eyes, “what I think you’re telling me?”

Alanna had long been pestering Rhys about dating. And if she wasn't on his case she was on Azriel or Cassian's. Her boys, as she said, were too good to be wasted on not caring about anything. And she wanted grandbabies.

He gave an exasperated sigh and stole a donut hole from the little tray before taking his phone from his pocket.  He unlocked the screen and pulled up his home screen where rested a picture of Feyre.  He’d captured it just last week when they’d gone to the farmers market.  She’d practically danced from stall to stall as she examined everything and spent the most time examining art and oil paintings.  This picture was of her burying her nose in a bouquet of flowers.  Her dark blonde hair fell in loose waves around her.  The freckles he loved were bright as stars on her skin.

“This is Feyre,” he said, passing the phone to his mother and sister. “We’ve been dating a few months now.”

“She’s pretty,” Thea said.  She snagged the phone and did a thorough examination. “What’s she doing with someone like you?”

“Ha,” Rhys replied.  

“How did you meet? What does she do?  Is she originally from Velaris?” Alanna launched into question after question.  Rhys knew what she was really asking: can I meet her?

And as he answered questions and accepted the teasing--Rhys realized that, yeah, he would really want his mom and sister to meet Feyre.

...

tags-bolded tags wouldn’t link

@aelinchocolatelover  // @sexy-dumpster-fire // @bamchickawowow // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @courtofjurdan // @sassys-world // @sleeping-and-books // @superspiritfestival // @chieflemming // @julemmaes // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @firestarsandseneschals // @emikadreams // @rapunzel1523 // @booksofthemoon // @highladysith // @fangirlprincess09 // @rowaelinismyotp // @vanzetanze // @cassianscool // @stardelia // @my-fan-side // @sjmships // @tillyrubes10 // @rhysandswhore  //  @story-scribbler  // @post-it-notes33 // @live-the-fangirl-life // @strangevil321 // @pastasiren // @lemonade-coolattas @foreverfallingforthestars // @feysand-loml // @realbookloverproblems // @ghostlyrose2 // @swankii-art-teacher // @foughtconquered // @bri-loves-sunflowers // @captain-swan-is-endgame  // @mystic-bibliophile // @cretaceous-therapod // @thenightgodess-feyrearcheron //  @thisloveseternal // @gracie-rosee // @magnifique1807 // @liars-lmao // @goddess-aelin // @thegloweringcastle // @tangledinsparkles // @the-lonelybarricade // @millsarcherfeykat // @sideralwriting // @nerdperson524 // @the-fae-are-taking-over // @sushisempai // @jenibearx3 // @the-introverted-bibliophile //

[notmuchtoconceal]

- welcome to a bruxaria – a show that may or may not still be the bruxcast. on my program today, i have the effervescent lil tall sip of fizz, cpt. luxor drottin ready to seranade us with some fine poppy foam bubbles i know you'll be eager to trickle right down your shirt fronts!

- what up, brother brux. you got a special girl in your life yet, bro?

- she's out there, mate! might be listenin in right now for all we know!

- bro, what i know is you're gonna make the luckiest lady alive the lady who makes you the luckiest man alive. you're so special, brother brux. you deserve a special girl to be with, all the rest of your days ~ !

- cpt. drottin, i have to ask – you a great dane or just a standard swede?

- deffo not enough finns to make a whole fish, bro.

- an avalanche every iceman cometh, i am indeed the jelliest of donuts!

(STICK IT IN A PUSS O/o STICK IN A PUSS o/O YOU LOVE TO CUP THE VULVAE /O CUP THE VULVAE /o CUP THE VULVAE O/O )

- bro, you should soundproof cpt. hlaford when you're recording, otherwise stick em someplace soundproof, bro. holy hell – what are you even spending 9/10ths of our total broadcast budget on if you can't account for basic quality of life improvements?

- mate, we hadn't always been a big show. you're a young up-and-comer. you weren't with us in the early seasons. i started out as a pirate channel in a janitorial closet and did every show to the hammer beat of wally deadliftin in nothing but a big sweaty ass-stained lycra singlet and cheese scented wool socks, the singlet himself (itself -- weren't once human!) almost obscenely padded out by a fat heavy knit cotton tee which'd accrued mothscales on pine like sycamore sap; sweatmarks foamroasted in tree rings so much i thought he were wearin some sorta throwback arctic camo -- sometimes just strippin outta his drenched as shit singlet, tossin his goofy coconut tropical scented pineapple printed dick briefs at me head. full on fuckin sloshin me like urinal piss foam in a mug i served outta the tap at me own bar, and wally fukin drank it down, asked for another and another -- by the end, i was dehydrated, lyin on my side jitterin and he just bleched and said he was goin out fer a beer /// live on air, his stinky fuckin briefs hittin me head, and it's so sweet and anointed and heedy like a fuckin pina cooldada it takes awhile to taste the burn -- joshua openly fornicatin christos, i bet this man's cock is delicious! i just wanna stare the seat of his pants everyday the rest of my life and cringe thinkin about how good it'll taste, but i'll never ask, cause i'm such a shy and delicate flower -- i had to hear it during recording, during editing, on the air. it's part of my creative process now. there just is no motive to create without hearin wally scream through a wall. punch through the wall. chase me around the room. hollerin after me to gimme back his soul. destroyin all my equipment, but not before it can all be backed up to the satellite, way out in space, where wally's domain can not yet penetrate into the upper atmospheres ~0~ ! tell you the truth, i can't coax him into helpin me do it unpaid, so i just sort loike – y'know. built my sets around him. sometimes cut off pathways in advance, to keep him boxed in, change the patterns of nature to make him predictable, just sorta like – you know. follow him and record so inspiration can strike the second he lets his guard down and thinks he's free to be himself, but i'm just over here bein a nosy lil anthropologist lady who wants to record the sound of him gettin it on so i can once again feel a butterly tinglin in my nowhere places when the currents of life are alive and fruitful like a smoothie churning egg beater my brain from which i will fry the heartiest crepes?

- bro, to be completely honest – i have so many questions, i don't even know where to start, so um – i won't unless you give me a few moments to collect myself, which i doubt you will?

- mate no, by all means. this is a show where two people talk. a talk show. i have to show you talking. in all the hours we've been together, i'm sure i definitely have footage of you talking. go ahead. prove it to me now and to the viewers at home that you have participated in my talk show by talking to me – now. live on air. edited only for initial broadcast.

- um –

- cpt. drottin, you know, i think –

[vintage tye-dye throwback bumper

cpt. laika greenscreened onto a celluloid scarred void of rippling droplets !

collides with cpt. jacek in the edit ! ~ !

as typical,

laika's overblown toothy cheeked eyeball fucking is soggy sugarmush churned maple greens from steel-cuts =0

/ and jacek's face looks much like his dick --

much too large and swaggering to be this fuckin leaky. ]

( 0 _ ./. o. >,: &lt;;\|-/~ ) o ( l .,.KlTYT>| |)

the bell rung.

the mirage accumulated by light particles into corpulence.

your brother didn't have a beard. he looked nothing at all like cpt. drottin.

- um, sir?

once again, your most favored hour fell upon you.

- your sarcasm is much appreciated, sir. you're the only one who has the balls to roast me both openly and to my face. 

in full confidence, you would much rather have him raw.

- our most astute viewers know the true meanings of your words, as do i, though i scar my tongue most to know saltlick... just gonna pretend you wanna rut my tight and virtuously chaste hole and leave me drenched in my own tenderings and squirtings, sir. // your proclivities have been much established by those-in-the-know, but um… this'll look better for the men, you know? you're way more relatable when they're thinkin bout you like, um – like  grabbin me,& suckin me without, um, tearin me in half and slurpin out each a my halves like shucks through the pelvic openings?

he has such a pretty throat. a shame you couldn't fit both your cocks in his mouth at once without tearing him apart down the prime meridian.

- sir, i know you're jockin me right now, big bro. you had two cocks, um – holy fuck, you'd have this cloven hoof bulge all gnarled like the limbs of a tree out which the earth had been hollowed, all fat roots and pike-thorn branches and, um –  i'd wanna bury myself in your crotch even more?

you and everyone fuckin else, kid.

- my apologies, sir. after my recent sesh with cpt. schreibermachen, where secrets were re-divulged without the application of rope, i couldn't help but fall into the dreamy reveries he induces upon the mere mention of your, um – that shrill horrible beeping sound that would otherwise lance at my ears, but which by his gentle assurance now floods my nerves with the anticipation of the sweetness before a toothache?

he needed to surprise you. he wasn't doing anything new today.

- i could rip off my face and expose the maw of coiled intestines beneath, hissing out with the hellfire of your own failed accountings, lord of all which forgotten ~ slain always by the light of remembrance?

throw a tarp on him. worst he'd do is burn the place down.

–

cpt. schreibermachen glanced at cpt. drottin through the light.

he seemed for a moment, only anonymous. some face more flesh than memory, shed as the cicada shell of a mask.

- never have i met a man before as you, brother – as uncut and void of substance as myself. 

cpt. drottin – let himself linger in the glance that he threw back.

he would stroll as he would linger, some eternal dusk whenever he took things slow. though his eyes were the hardball palming the mits of the leather. no fangs to see in the dusklight he crept.

corrosion softest in the creases. parts of him wore away, from wear and from moisture, and it seemed inevitable – that he should decay though still a young calf he was. to slaughter before spoil. no caustic splotches. no sheens of oilslick to stain. the wear of age which deep intuition had bent into seams varicose down the planes of his face – hairline fractures in the light which you would only see for only you looked, and met not a man's eyes before meeting the topography of his skin, as you interrogated your seawall against oblivion every morning.

you had seen comelier young men putresce on the vine. he was simply microdosed with his own fermentations, dispersed in beads along the sweet, you never tasted his punch, or into what frenzy it drew you.

- i will hear you, brother – for you are a virtuous man.

schreibermachen wore a brief of cotton, drottin a brief of aluminum – the translucence of the strands wrung spun and glow wormed in the rays of the evening sun refracted off the contouring of their meddle.

their cocks they pushed together, to careen shaft to shaft, in boy's adventure fables where they knew the heroics of their capacities for life and for daring, ascending and descending the ropes from which they hung and swung, sang and wrang, though sometimes it were vine or stone, and they could press only closer to cling in embrace, singing praises of valor, sputtering salival and bellowing, articulations upon articulations as you strove to meet his eyes ~

though your head craned back as his, slick inside the prison of his briefs, as you foamed through the cling of yours, your slick coating his, beading through the meshing to mingle with his as he stewed in your seepage and his stung your nicks, your cockheads so tight inside the dual collar of your phimotic ring, magenta and clamped upon by the joint limitations of your own crucified anatomies, as you were girdled in flesh as you were gartered in fly, as much two bodies trapped inside a mind as two minds trapped within a body, inches upon inches together /

your eightheads together, (4 + $ - CAP = ←) meeting his eyes with the mutual piteousness of your need, hovering at a threshold of ecstatic communion, condemned to never plummet off, but shoot deep roots into the rocks at the edge, to drop fruit to be carried far in the rivers below ~ your trunks entwined and your branches parting farther, the spongeal nodes of your need still aching and pressed together, no longer able even to rub, but merely to give and to merely pulse in the same heartbeat of your idiot-eyed surrender to himself and to you ~

breeches around your ankles in the public squares, your uniform jackets drenched with drool, foaming down your legs and into your breeches, briefs so soaked-through there is nothing left to-be unseen ~

and you are breathing in the spice of cpt. drottin's beard, longing to bite at it, but you can only hold him, wishing your faces were clamped even closer together, stuffed by the figure-eight of a dual-chambered inflatable gag, mouths clamped into the optical illusion of a vice-grip jaw to jaw so you could meet his eyes, only his eyes, and never be away from those pools into which you longed to drown, but would plunge into only to scale up – for the light you saw was but a reflection of your own.

… you are the true foundation, brother joseph;

drottin sang to ache ~

the exhaustion he could no longer prolong.

/o

[ camera left rolling for six hours.

through the silky, slatten light

falling through embers of alleys;

cpt. hlaford bums a smoke off a derelict saint, to bless him with a bottle of spiced rum, and a pirate jig they will do.

a pirate jig they did do for you.]

o|

( )

.\

- cpt. drottin. my, my – aren't you looking lovely this fine day!

- thank you, cpt. haruspex. all the world is lovely that i look upon ~

- do you ever feel, like, er – there's somethin that needs to be done that you aren't doin, mate? sometimes i feel like i, um – sorta use people to distract myself from my real problems?

- bro, you shouldn't be talking to me if you have things you need to do.

- mate, no – it's not like that, it's more, like –

- you can't make excuses for yourself, cpt. haruspex. you're a brave and enduring soul who every day stands in the muck of primordial chaos and pushes the world heaved upon your shoulders back up into the warm and ever enduring horizon line of the sun. you know this to be the truest and most real you. you know the smog which composes the pollutant of your atmospheres arises only from maladaptive industry, and this is simply the cumulative effect of many tiny corrosions which have gone unchecked, for an arrest has come over your basest components.

... you are a live today, cpt. haruspex. the day is what you make of it, and you ought make a reality the many fine things you know yourself capable. will you take my hand? take your hand and make a pledge to me?

- mate, your hands i'd – 

- don't be scared, brother brux. i'm just a man. 

- …

- haha, hey lil slime trail.

- it's just, um – you're so warm and so soft – i don't want to lose myself in your eyes, cause i'm not as strong a swimmer as i should be, or maybe i am, bein the one to be born and all, it's just – i jump headfirst into choppy waters or else plunge into the arctic cold? cause i like to? 

… guess it sorta feels like when i see the storm waves or the blackest depths, i gotta take the leap. if i don't, it's like – why didn't ya jump in? why didn't ya endanger your life? what's a self-preservation instinct done but hold ya back to the wall? think you're ever gonna flower in the ice?

/// sure are gettin oily, mate – way your hormones are chuggin away.

... what ya see's what ya get, and all ya see is the filth gushin out ya. you breakin up, or you breakin out? i seein static or caulked splotches? why i see a time-lapse of a rose on every face, so bright and clear i can anoint myself with my own imaginins?

... guess it sorta feels like the slicker i get, the more i can stay outta holds, but um – i don't always know if there're people grabbin at me while i'm under water? the pressure wraps around me. some hand, some arm. throats always grippin mine. don't always know what i need to do. if i'm strugglin to keep my head up, or strugglin to sink!

- cpt. haruspex, look upon this vast country. all but the sink is yours.

... cpt. haruspex, look upon this scarred and arid continent. all but the sink is yours. you have no basin in which to let stagnate still waters, and no gorge cut by the slow erosion of a coercive night's languid stream.

... you are face down now in a puddle of your own brewing, gasping for air when you could simply flip and meet the sky ~

falling to the sky 

… some fisheye of waters diffused, icy only at the rims of space.

... sun warmed as the sands in which you lie, standing only to see truth.

... cpt. haruspex, you have dominion over every beast that you tame. you have dominion over every land you claim. you receive nothing of what you have asked, though you have accepted everything you have to gain. you assist and you are given, and you insist only so you do not receive. there are things which you are owed, and to make yourself known will bestow upon you the earnings of your actions! do not drown yourself in your own meager moisture – not when you have it within you to call upon those pressures of the sea, to cloak out the air ~ in the black tumult of the storm winds, you may blot out the sun – for an hour, for a day – to drench the droughted land in the downpour for which it is overdue!

- am i like heat, lux? risin like air, or bread in the oven? will i be fanned down or else carved and buttered? am i a tasty lil croissant – you wanna have me for breakfast, deem me the fittest meal, unworthy as i am?

- with my coffee, um – put some butter in there, too – make it shimmer as gold in the suns you obscure, for what dim light you have is surely radiant, though it skims only blackenings of my won-blotted eyes?

- and my waters? soakin the land as a fair maid well-aware i have tracked her far across the fields?

... will they sink deep, between the hard baked scales of the sun-drenched soil – the debris of what is dead and dry, to raise porous and fungal in the caps of some vast toadstool, as handsy as it is without hands? 

- i will always remember you, cpt. haruspex. you are the bell which makes me remember. you are the ring which wakes me to dismember.

- i am the phone you never pick up. i am a connection you did not make. i am a spring shower dried up too soon, for the light of the sun oppresses me with its bounty :-- which is not the meager bounty of oijyamb. doomed though i am, doom always ain't gotta be such a gloomy thing!

- in the shade, the boulevard of every garden :-- hatted though i am, no cat am I, though still i feed on all assortments of what i net! we are all the octopus :-- for we reach and we grasp, and the bites of our kisses leave their mark or their notch, more pattern than bloodclot or breakage!~

- lux, i err – really appreciate all you have to say, but i really need to go to the bathroom mate. can you please let go of my hands? your grip is so strong, so tight and so loving, i think it makes me quiver in ways that neither me or my bladder could ever get used to!

- go, brother brux! begin your showers early!

- land's gonna get real fertile, i can tell ya that mate!

-

– another brick, brother lux. it is a pleasure to be limed with you.

o|

///

...

[armchair slid against the tile, crashed back against the plateglass ;;

ceramic shattering, rootwork of marble slab pulled up by the plinth.]

,,,

\\\

.\

[cpt. psychorragia hunched over throbbing, polishing his pulsating meat, bellowing like an ape peeling, fondling, mashing bunches upon bunches of ripe bananas unfurling in pinecone fountain light waters gushing burgeoning spooge geysers of milk and honey in cascades of neuronal flares all throughout the denser coagulants of himself; all over his muscleboy mantits shoulders so broad and slopey.]

./ o ./

cpt. psychorrhax dabbed the cloth under cpt. schreibermachen's eyes.

blooms darkened the blue to bluer gray, as light as spring rain, shining black as mud beckoning a baptism in clay.

though he picked up far from little, it could hardly be enough.

the tears, infrequent though they were, bled him for the waters came too fast and too heavy, and left joey once more clinging to his brother –

some branch he ducked under to catch reprieve from the downpour, as he looked back to see fields bleak with storm swallowed by the choppy surf of some granite tide, finding himself now alone on a rock stranded out at sea, sodden beneath the wind-torn branches of this lone and rootless tree he kept upright, for he did not know, were he to lean his weight upon its boughs, would it sink or stay afloat.

- you're too good to me, laik.

- that is a contradiction in terms, cpt. schreibermachen.

where joey refused to push himself -- seduced always by the warmth of his brother's arms -- he would find himself pulled beneath the riptide, buried forever in the mudflats which churned beneath the shallow seas.  

- what depthless rubber lungs i have! what a well-scrubbed and castiron heart! let no man tell you there is no fortification to be found in running away! for what submersible would i be if i caved to the pressures ... !

joey's hands clenched laika's shoulders.

the blood grew torpid in his veins.

laika spoke, and made himself heard. 

- a lesson our brother, cpt. haruspex has no want to learn, for he lives his lectures daily, repeating them with such frequency.

his hands rested in mutual conspiracy with himself to lean further in, for he could feel only useless letting them hang limp at his sides, and so it made itself so that to anchor was always an act of will. 

– i shouldn't need you to do these things for me, laik.

though now joey felt only that he could push off, for there could be no indignity greater than being seen for what he could not hide.

once more, laika made himself more. 

-- i am the man you love. i would do these things and many more, and i would do them gladly, would you but permit me.

from the distance of a forearm's length, cpt. schreibermachen could meet his brother's eyes ~ the peak of a silver mountain through the mist.

– i shouldn't need you… to take care of me, laik.

laika leaned in.

joey's heat bled through the layers of their shared insulation. 

– everyone needs someone to take care of em, joe.

once more, a gooiness clung to the skin of his arms. pearlescent as honeysuckle baked in the heat of their embrace. steam distillations rose from pomegranate flesh and there were nothing but cocktails to be had.

– not the major. never the major. he is truly more – unconquerable than i.

laika allowed himself to linger – he had no cause to contradict in full. not here. where he was needed most. where he most needed to be.

– you don't know what he needs. sometimes i know better, big bro. 

joey stayed with him. it seemed natural. no protocol, and no guilt.

he would give anything, for with laika he had all to give.

for laika never asked for things he could not give.

[autumnslance]

Wolcred Week 2023: Good Morning|Sweet Dreams

(Y'know there's "rules" somewhere about not starting with dreams, but I seem to do it a lot anyway. 560-ish words of fluff preempting angst, EW 6.4 but no real spoilers again. Amanya's a childhood friend first mentioned in FFXIV Write 2022's "Fuse".)

She sat on the riverbank with Amanya, red silk flowing through their hands to wrap around the Arkasodara girl into her wedding sari.

“You should look to your own future,” Amanya said and flames crackled in the distance. Shadows flit overhead.

Aeryn did not dare look up at them. “I wanted to find you first,” she said.

“You did,” Amanya answered as the red flowed from the silk into the river, smelling of copper and reflecting the incoming flames. The white shroud wrapped around Amanya’s broad form. “At the edge of everything. Perhaps we will meet again. Look to your own future.”

A bird sang as the fires rolled in, smoke choking the air and ash filling the water while the shadows descended…

An aetheric shot broke the birdsong as the gunblade sliced the silk, Amanya falling into the fading smoke as Aeryn fell into familiar strong arms and a comforting murmur in her ear.

The purple gloom of Mor Dhona swirled outside the window of her childhood bedroom in Davarresh as she and Thancred sat amid a dozen bright pillows that were also pastries they snacked upon as they talked and laughed but she couldn’t quite follow the conversation.

Only that it was pleasant and she never wanted the moment to end.

—

Aeryn blinked awake to the dawn peeking in through the window. They hadn’t closed it last night, and mornings in Sharlayan could be chilly while the bed was quite warm. Thancred spooned her, arms and a leg holding her close.

She sighed and wiggled free, leading to him sleepily grumbling and rolling over, trying to deny the morning for a little while longer. Aeryn snagged her house robe from the back of the nearby desk chair, padding over to the small corner stove.

In a few moments she had coffee brewing, and though she looked, there were no snacks to be had. She had picked up a coffee pack at the Last Stand, but they had eaten all the food, and it had been a while since either of them had used the Annex room, given the work in Thavnair while he was off on his own errands. Fighting together again to secure the Aetherfont had felt good, even if it earned them some teasing from their comrades.

By the time she returned to the bed with their mugs he was sitting up, his hair sticking every which way as he rubbed his eyes.

“Good morning,” Aeryn said, handing him a cup of unaltered black coffee. Her own was a lighter tan, enhanced (he claimed otherwise) by cream and sugar.

He smiled sleepily as he took the mug. “Good morning; thank you. Sleep all right? Seemed you were having some bad dreams in the wee hours.”

Aeryn sat with him on the bed again, trying to remember, but there were only fleeting impressions of laughing conversation, tasty treats—perhaps that’s why she was craving pastries this morning—and the whisper of a familiar voice saying…something important.

She shrugged. “Only sweet dreams here—literally, so once we’re dressed we ought to go to the Last Stand again because I need donuts.”

He chuckled. “I want eggs and bacon myself, but I’m certain Dickon will be glad to arrange both. And there’s yet time before we return to our respective work.”

Danger and uncertainty awaited, even with their successes so far. But that was for later, as they leaned together and drank their coffee in the cool morning light.

A good start to the day’s adventures indeed.

[guiltygearconfessions]

Faust is my favorite character of all time, I think about him every day and this whole essay isn't even the tip of the iceberg of how much he means to me.

[Warnings: ABSURDLY long text, mentions of suicide, mentions of antidepressants]

My goodness fucking gracious, I absolutely adore this guy. I don't care if he isn't real, he's so damn gorgeous and I would kiss him every day, every night and anytime.

I feel like those weeb guys with their anime girlfriends, but honestly? I don't care anymore. I want to hug him and cuddle with him, give him a box of the best donuts I can afford, listen to anything he has to say, tell him how important he's to me, take him to therapy and why not, marry him.

This weird and chaotic doctor saved my life. This is not a joke, this is not an hyperbole: I have this... executive dysfunction and DPDR disorder. I struggle to do what I want to and instead I just sit there, reading or doing small things because my mental health... isn't the best (I get to almost evey place really late because I can't even move)... but this man, yes, the bald guy from the met fighting game truly is helping me overcome this problem. I even reduced my antidepressant dose - which I've been on for almost two years.

I also have identity issues, a complicated relationship with my past self, an "I NEED to help people" mentality and tried to end my life many times (reminder: he almost committed suicide in Missing Link). Can you imagine how I reacted to the Another Story ending? I. Cried. Three. Times.

The moment I saw that official art from the Skullgirls gallery (indeed, I'm the same guy, hello) I said, internally: "Wow! I really like his design. Where is he from, though?" Then I forgot about it for a while until I... don't remember, I won't lie. However, I hyperfixated to a concerning extent with him and now... here I am, listening to his soundtracks, doodling him, collecting paper bags (I already did that before knowing about his existence, though), having almost 600 fanarts in my phone, planning to cosplay him in January for a convention, sewing a mini Faust plushie and... writing this.

So... we can summarize this by saying fifteen words: I love him so much, his story saved my life and he really deserves best.

Live your truth, people.

- A (signing this just because it's funny :])

-

[the-zapped-part-timer]

Penn Zerothon Day 4

I'm Super!🦸🏼‍♂️

My Ramblings: I love that Phyllis quietly downplayed the fact that she's zapping them to the Superhero World, she knows Penn will go berserk! His excitement is adorable and I adore the voice acting. I wish I could get that excited for things. Also we see that Phyllis does in fact live and sleep at the Odyssey. Interesting to see her outside, that would've been neat to see her out and about in town more often.

Very Boone to be using the woman's bathroom. Boone really doesn't ever mind wearing a dress or a skirt and if he's a lady, he's rolling with it! Love him for that.

If I had my dream since I was 6 come true, I'd bawl my eyes out!

Funny that only Sashi has an actual Superhero name. At least with Boone we get an idea,  but Penn? Left out to dry.

Wonder if the Super Dog is what got Sam Levine on Super-Pets? I know that's not how it works but it would be funny.

Captain Super Captain is a treasure, RIP Adam West. His force fields look awesome.

Always with the dramatic entrances, eh Rippen? This tells me that your hide out may be underground. Also was the car smashing really necessary? You didn't even throw them!

I love all the Superheroes just yelling their names out like overpowered Pokémon.

What an interesting sound when Larry first springs out of Rippen's suit... also I like expression when Rippen uses his new found super speed. Ya scrambled his brain cells, Rippen! Do you think he was ever embarrassed about having Sashi's powers? Probably thinking I have to take them not because I want but that she can't have them.

Larry almost killed an old man.

I will never be tired of the mystery behind Penn's superhero logo. The theories are endless! We got:

An 8

A dollar sign

Two awesome snakes just hugging

An 8, again

A stack of two donuts

A snowman

And my favorite, two awesome cookies hugging

Like where did you get "two awesome cookies hugging." Rippen? He almost sounds a little innocent here. Also how he said "snowman vibe" is so unbelievably sassy. Rippen really said "HEY" at Penn so annoyingly, I love it.

Penn's great wink is going to someone who desperately needs it.

My god, the remodeling kitchen story and the fact that Rippen's reading his mind? All the same info swirling in his brain? Amazing already. Probably a headache coming on and then BAM! RANDOM ITEM STRAIGHT TO THE DOME! His expressions, he's so confused. Comedy gold.

Also I need you all to do yourself another favor, when Captain Super Captain messes with Rippen's robo-leg wires and says: Captain Regular Captain! Look at his legs. Damn...

I love the idea of Rippen and Larry just getting arrested. We get to see Rippen's nice and simple suit, very stylish.

Just this out of context:

Rippen: To be honest, Larry, it feels better not to have you in my belly.

Larry: Really? I was starting to feel at in there. It was kind of cozy.

And we end off with Penn accidentally destroying the city. The day is saved indeed, mission accomplished.

~The Characters~

Penn Zero: Must have sucked that he wasn't super for most of it because you know, it was his dream since he was 6. But happy he learned that powers aren't everything, it's the inner self within that matters. I'm sure he will still never not freak out when they're zapped here.

Boone Wiseman: Doesn't do a whole lot but I do wonder what he's read in others minds that he didn't bring up. Would've like to see that as a gag. Unused potential.

Sashi Kobayashi: Poor Sash. I don't think her power is that bad, don't underestimate the power of smell! It can be so horrible for so many people sensitive to strong odors.

Rippen: This has been on my mind for years! The fact is he is not a supervillain in this world, no powers! My headcanon is that the villain is bitter about that an wants to steal everyone else's powers. Anyways, so close to winning but the power of teamwork saved the day, as always. I just need to know how this guy and the mutant parasite met!

Larry: Super helpful in this world, he can use his special power and not hurt anyone... hugs! I really like that he played a huge part in the plan and actively participated. He even pushed an old man! Evil points!

Dimension(s): Cool world but raises plenty of questions, mainly: what is the entire world like? Is everyone super? If everyone is super, are they really super? What's it like for people not born or accidentally turned super? Can you accidentally become super? I wanna know! Even the politics!

Forms: I like Sashi's because I like skunks, they're cute! Helps that the purple and green combo slaps. Boone's is alright, he looks good. Penn's... not a huge fan on the yellow to be honest with you. But still looks good, especially those two awesome cookies, hugging.

But Rippen's design is awesome! He's just a guy in a giant mech suit but so what? I like it. Larry's is also really cool! He's just a little purple man worm and apparently worms are my jam now so yay!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Fast and the Floor Rugs🧞‍♂️

My Ramblings: So, they've fought vampires before and of course Sashi kills them in the most slow and painful way imaginable... did she do this to Rippen, who we see a photo of as a vampire. Probably not, I think it's possible Larry did, as we see in the picture in that particular episode, I'll bring it up again.

Is Phyllis reading a romance novel? It's a nice deep red and says something with love on it. I can't properly see it. But good for her.

Penn and Boone didn't even make a peep when they saw Sashi, they both just smiled, but not in a joking way, more of a you look cute today kind of way. I like their smiles. But also I understand her threat, so far in these episodes, I notice a lot of the time we see Sashi last and the boys say something that can come off as them making fun of her. They're never malicious, I just understand her wrath.

There's that monkey obsession of Boone's flaring up.

Bikers! A good twist on the obviously Aladdin inspired world. Interesting to see a lot of evil or mean bikers in media when in real life, a lot of them are nice, some the nicest and most helpful people. Like Bikers Against Child Abuse. Anyways, Rippen's face when Larry vacuums his rug.

Is it a can of worms to bring up the hero being white in a predominantly non-white place? There's something about that, right? I mean, going back to Aladdin... it's certainly a subject.

I like the conflict at hand between Penn and Boone, I mean, Penn isn't entirely wrong but I still feel for Boone, he's trying his best. Probably hurts more considering this is his family's thing to be wise and helpful to the heroes and him failing at that... ouch. I understand both of them, I've been on both sides.

Trouble in bromance land? Yes, Rippen, actually! His little giggle before saying that. Also his expression and sigh when he realizes that Boone is stuck in the lamp. I like him face and voice, ok? And him scoffing at John DiMaggio biker like a peeved off teenage girl? Great.

It's so funny to see Rippen obey to being pulled over by a cop. Like he's evil but he for some reason respects the law... for a minute. He did that earlier with the carpet train, he just sat and waited impatiently while Penn just flew over it. Trying to be a kiss-ass to the cop while fruitlessly trying to find his license on the empty carpet. Until he realizes it's all pointless and he's evil. Shining gold as ever. Larry didn't even try to help or speak to the cop.

More good advice from Sashi, she's kind of like a Wiseman herself, lots of pep talks from her. Very good scene between Sashi and Penn. She didn't even wanna talk about Boone behind his back, that would've been easy to do but nope!

Why did Rippen have to use the pliers to to fix the lamp below the screen... by his crotch? With loud cranking!? Come on, you know that had to look a bit sus right?

Boone was ready to square up against Rippen so fast, if it wasn't for the fact he was a genie, I believe it would have been over for the poor villain. Boone seems tough he's just a bit cowardly, which is fine! Rippen is too! Too bad sass and pettiness got to Boone from a moody Rippen, an adult man.

To think, Sashi almost died because of Penn... as a monkey.

We adore Boone being difficult towards Rippen either on purpose or not! Gets worse for old Rip, Boone and Larry start to bond over baby nickels! Rippen is too much for me right now, I'm dying of laughter.

Do one of th bikers laugh at Penn's carpet and say "it's small"? I think so.

WILHELM SCREAM! Also Penn killed 3 bikers... not even a joke or a possibility that they survived. Nope! He got them, they're dead! Larry could've almost died we don't know, he blasted off to who knows where.

Awww, Boone being the team's anchor! Sounds mean at first but Penn brought it around. And putting a hand on Boone? I love them. I cherish this dream team. Too bad Rippen's gotta be a problem.

Boone? It's big brain time. Legit one of my favorite episode endings, he's so clever! He so easily manipulates Rippen and uses his own desires against him, even if that's not part of his mission! Great job, Boone! Everyone, clap for Boone! Just so subtlety twisting his words from "annihilate Penn Zero" to "I wish you would make Penn Zero expire", of course Rippen will say exactly what Boone said because he learned he needed to be so damn carful with his words like with the GPS and wanting peace and quiet! I feel bad for Penn, he must have felt so terrified at first. BUT HE TRUSTED HIM! And all that happened was him turning into expired milk! EVERYONE CLAP HARDER! Rippen just being like: alright kill him for real and Boone is like, nah, you already used all your wishes. Go cry about it, bitch!

And Rippen goes out in the funniest way imaginable! I need to clip this and talk about it forever!

I love Boone. I love this dream team. I cherish all of them. But Boone? This is your day! Shine!

I would have been pissed about the Sultan.

~The Characters~

Penn Zero: A low-blow towards his buddy but obviously some feelings he's had over time. Which understandable, I would be frustrated by that, I have been before. But glad that he felt guilty by that, it's good to be honest with your friends but coming off as a jerk doesn't feel good either. Just need to sit down and properly talk about stuff like that.

Boone Wiseman: Like what I said earlier, the ending was awesome, Boone, your a genius! But before that, the break up, I really felt for him, Like I said, it would crush me if my friend said that and that was my whole family's thing. Even though, technically we don't know that yet and sadly don't get that much attention as Sashi's family dynamic. Happy it all turned out right in the end and not in a way where it's like, why are you still friends. It's easy to mess that up.

Sashi Kobayashi: Sage advice from the non-wiseman, that's kinda been her role so far besides the bloodthirsty Sidekick.

Rippen: So damn funny! Like, I died. His raising anger and frustration is so good! The ending? Biggest and funniest L so far!

Larry: Not much to do but funny. This starts a good friendship between Boone and Larry, their bot so different the two.

Dimension(s): Desert... that's it. But the concept of how carpets are just motorbikes is good.

Forms: All great! Especially Genie Boone, I like his pointed ears! Penn's beautiful ponytail and Sashi as a monkey? Adorable. Biker Rippen and Larry ate hard.

[gabyoficial3]

ask The Dead Speaker Boxes[BFHC AU]

inspiration:caramel_candy

i have no ideas so i made this:3...but...why they are dead?

Flower speaker box(FLSB)

cause of death:murdered

culprit:flower

info:This death is canonical,basically at the beginning of BFDI 23,Firey speaker was trying to break the TCL,only he was making noise and distracting Flower,making her get angry and pick up a bowling ball to throw at him,Firey speaker box manages dodge the ball,but unfortunately flower speaker box was behind him,so the bowling ball crushed her,dying instantly;what changed about this death is how flower reacted when she saw what she did.

puffball speaker box(PSB)

cause of death:murdered

culprit:pin

info:the event of BFDIA 5a in the pin accidentally throws a knife at puffball speaker for me is not really a death,because in BFDIA 8 just by removing the knife he reappears,so in my AU he would die otherwise and intentionally;at the end of BFDIA and before IDFB,thanks to the power of the script everything returns to normal,so Pin would have his face and limbs back(the reasons why he lost them are in BFDIA 5a and BFDIA 11)and as revenge he decides to kill PSB,she convinces him to go to a forest that was quiet,PSB began to suspect this, but before fully realizing it,Pin with an ax in a rapid movement makes her an medium cut,causing a fatal wound PSB,while bleeding,Pin takes her to a nearby tree and she runs quickly,abandoning PSB while she slowly leaves this world...later puffball while looking for PSB,she finds him dead and puffball would cry for the death of his speaker box,causing depression,his mental health to deteriorate little by little and sometimes suicidal thoughts.

by the way:before TPOT 7 I think,puffball decided to commit suicide to be with PSB forever

Firey speaker box(FSB)

cause of death,murdered and dismembered culprit:donut

info:This death is also canonical,it can be deduced that Donut was the one who dismembered FSB,in BFB 8 in the part where it is revealed to us who will be eliminated,FSB appears dismembered and its parts are used for the contestants who were not eliminated(or who from me)indeed Firey was not happy with this and lamented the death of his speaker box(which he considered his son),what they changed is to increase the tension of that scene by making it really clear what the crash is like,from that moment on Firey He would go through the duel,which in the end he manages to overcome.

Announcer(speaker box)

causes of death:crushed and killed

culprits:spongey and kat

Info:Curiously,Announcer has two deaths,one canonical(which I consider that way)and another that I create for this AU,the first occurs at the beginning of BFDI 22,when he is crushed by Spongy due to the tremendous butterfly effect caused by Firey and Flower,due to What this one knew was heaven and was there before they made him a recovery center;and the second one,which is part of my AU,happens near the end of BFB 30,when with an argument with Kat(a friend's oc)he gets desperate and grabs a kind of tool and the announcer was baffled as to what was happening,and before finishing asking him what was happening,Kat attacks him with the tool and does so until they literally kills him,when Kat regains consciousness a little,they is terrified and escapes from the place as soon as possible,then some characters find him and mourn his loss,even his best friend VR headset.

[melody-everbelle]

Pee-wee Meets Hoops and Yoyo (Crossover Fanfic)

Title: Pee-wee Meets Hoops and Yoyo

Fandoms: Pee-wee's Playhouse, Hoops and Yoyo

Word count: 399

Warning(s): None :)

Summary: Hoops and Yoyo spend a day at Pee-wee’s playhouse.

Author’s Note: Ever since I saw Hoops and Yoyo Ruin Christmas (aka the BEST Hallmark Christmas movie ever made!), I had this in mind that I just couldn't wait to share! And yes, like my other Pee-wee fanfics, this one is dedicated to Paul Reubens (May he rest in peace 💔)

Also, this is the first time I wrote a fanfic that's not an X reader/OC one.

(Yes, I made the picture above)

***

"Good morning, Conky!" Pee-wee cheered as he was getting excited for what was going to happen today. "Do you know what's today's secret word?"

Conky printed out a piece of paper with the secret word on it. "Today's secret word is... Happy!" Pee-wee exclaimed. "And you know what to do when anyone says the secret word, right? Scream real loud!"

He gestured to Chairry, asking her, "Say, Chairry, how are you feeling right now?"

"Well, Pee-wee," Chairry replied, "I'm feeling quite happy."

"AAAAAHH!!!" Everyone in the Playhouse screamed, with Chairry giggling.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Pee-wee answered it to find a pair of anthropomorphic animals, one a pink cat, the other a green bunny.

"OHMIGOSH!" Hoops, the pink cat, cheered. "I can't believe it, Yoyo! We're meeting the Pee-wee Herman!"

"Heck yes!" Yoyo agreed. "Oh, Pee-wee, it's such an honor to meet you! Hoops and I can't help but feel happy!"

"AAAAAH!" Everyone in the Playhouse screamed, much to Hoops and Yoyo's laughter.

"Let me guess," Hoops commented. "We said the secret word, right?"

"Indeed, you did," Pee-wee nodded.

For snack time, Pee-wee asked what Hoops and Yoyo's favorite foods were, to which they both replied "Donuts!"

"Well, today's your lucky day, 'cuz guess what I have in the fridge?" Pee-wee opened the refrigerator door to briefly view the fruits and vegetables performing a circus act, just as he grabbed a pink cardboard box from it and opened it to reveal a variety of delicious donuts.

"Yay!" Hoops and Yoyo simultaneously cheered as they each grabbed a donut from the box and took a bite out of it. "Thanks, Pee-wee!"

Throughout the day, Hoops and Yoyo spent it having a lot of fun with Pee-wee. They watched the cartoon that the King of Cartoons presented, they each took turns sitting on Chairry, and they learned to make pizza, which they all enjoyed. Just as the day was about to come to an end, Pee-wee grabbed his scooter and helmet, saying "Wanna join me?"

"Sure!" Hoops and Yoyo accepted before getting onto the scooter.

"Today was sure a lot of fun," Hoops commented about how today marked one of their best days ever.

"And remember to bring on the happy!" Yoyo said before everyone in the Playhouse screamed.

"Good one, Yoyo!" Hoops exclaimed.

Eventually, Pee-wee took off on his scooter, with Hoops and Yoyo riding along.

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue - Ch. 11 "The Truth Shall Set You Free"

Summary: Josie is busted. Lee stands by the blonde beauty he adores. An oceanside joy ride ensues. Stories are told. An interrogation ends badly. An overdue truth is revealed ending a short lived moment.

*Warnings* Language, Angst, Mentions of death

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Chapter characters: Lee, Josie, Gerry,

Salem, Massachusetts

February 22, 2023

"Gerry?? What the hell are you doing here?! Did you fucking follow me??"

Your tone was just an octave above pissed off as you stood at Lee's side glaring down the 6'2, 46 year old blue eyed detective.

"Nice to see you too babe. You can only run for so long until I find you. Three weeks Josie, really? I've let your statement slide considering the loss you have suffered but now I am just running out of patience. I've got the D.A and the commissioner on my back for giving you special treatment because of our history and all you have been doing is shacking up with the reputable Dr. Pace."

Lee was instantly set off, first by the fact that this stranger rudely called you babe, and second, for his blunt implications.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Lee snidely said as he firmly took a step forward.

"I do believe I already introduced myself as detective Butler...but let me formally introduce myself. I am Josie's ex-fiance' but just call me Gerry like she does."

He then turned to you. "And....to answer your question sweetheart, I'm a cop. It's not that difficult to find out who you're doing...sorry, I mean what you're doing. Now that we've got all the nooks and crannies filled in, I need your ass down to the station. Now. Don't make me get the cuffs out. I like to save those for the bedroom."

Gerard Butler, whom everyone called Gerry, not just you, was indeed your ex. He was the Scottish half brother of your Irish half brother Bo Brady, also a cop, who died a few years ago. Bo and Gerry shared a father and you and Bo shared a mother. Quite a confusing tale that you did not want to think about at this time but would explain to Lee later on, because you knew he was going to want to know allllll about Gerry now. Jealous both men obviously were but unlike Lee, Gerry had an ego. You were in love with Gerry once, but as people say, you never love one person the same way you love another, and you were finding that out now with Lee, for he did things to you that you never deemed possible...Needless to say, your relationship of two years with the tall, dark and beefy Gerry failed for obvious reasons. Gerry was a cop. Jason was in the mob. That was like mixing fire with gasoline.....and then there was the elephant on the porch that stood between you and Gerry....he had cheated on you.

Lee was burning with rage. "Cop or not, who the hell are you to speak to her like that?!" he reeled as his nose flared.

"Lee...it's alright." you assured him as you stood with your hands gently placed upon his chest. "I can handle him."

Gerry grinned from ear to ear. "Yes, you can, that's for sure. Now come on cupcake. It's time to go....and don't think you're going to lose my tail, because I will be following you there. Chop chop!"

Gerry turned in a cavalier manner and strolled out to his black Ford F-150 Super Crew and leaned on it, lighting up a cigarette and blowing donut holes.

You rolled your eyes and took Lee's hand, drawing him inside as you slammed the now windowless door shut.

"I can explain..."

"Jo...you don't owe me any explanations."

"Lee....I think we are far past that now. Yes...I do."

"Fair enough. You can tell me then, on the way downtown."

Your head tilted at him.

"What? You think I'm going to just let you go be interrogated by that creep without me? Besides, you promised me a ride in your car, did you not? I'm ready to blast that bad to the bone stereo system to release my newly pent up emotions of wanting to kick his ass."

His grin was so wickedly hot.....and him turning into some guard dog wanting to protect you just proved he was something authentic...any doubts you ever had of him were gone with the wind and you never wanted to let him go.

"Alright." you giggled. "But...driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."

"Ohhhh, that is so not fair. You said I could drive sometime."

Now his grin was adorably pathetic....and you knew what you were about to tell him would not stick.

"I did...but that sometime is not today." you flirtatiously teased.

You were right, Lee got his way....you let this gorgeous man drive your car after you swore it would not be today. It had to be the fact that he fit perfectly in your driver seat, like it was made for him...a seat you had never let anyone even sit in, ever... let alone drive...but you had let Lee sit in it once before...the first time you went to his house. He had looked like a kid in a candy store so, this time, you caved and let him have some joy for once since the past three weeks he had been through nothing but pure hell. You could almost feel the green glare from Gerry in your side mirror.

The way Lee propped his left arm over the wheel and laid his right arm over the back of your seat, turning to smile at you, sent an out of the blue rush through your core. Could a man ever look so damn good in a pair of sunglasses? Lee sure did and although all you could see was your reflection in them, you could feel his baby blues cutting right through them, delving deep into your soul. No one had ever looked at you like he did...and honestly, you had never looked at anyone the way you did at him either.

The drive would be at least 45 minutes as you told Lee to purposely take the longest route just to piss Gerry off.....so Lee happily obliged and took they highway that ran along the bay. It was all perfect. The windows down, the Atlantic ocean view and it's salt water smell blowing inside the car. You then did something, and waited for Lee's reaction. Popping in your "High N Dry" Def Leppard cd, you turned it to the song he referenced you to in his letter. Lady Strange.

His glance at you verified to him that you had read his letter, but he already suspected it since you had came to see him shortly after he had given it to Amy. Neither of you had fully talked about it yet, but you planned on doing so. There was a lot left unsaid but for the most part, the most important areas were addressed and would gladly do for now....and all his actions today spoke louder than words anyways. The way he protected you and not Elizabeth when the the windows blew out, him falling to his knees, crying in your lap....the dance and almost kiss...all still had you reeling. You had finally felt safe with someone, your heart included.

As the song blared, he began to sing it, and kept glancing at you with a grin while doing so. If you were so bold, you would climb over top of him right now, for he was driving you crazy with desire.....but you weren't that bold. The lost kiss still lingered about your aching lips, wondering what it would be like to feel his heart shaped pucker pressed against you, whether it was your lips or any other parts of your anatomy. That thought right there sent shockwaves through your intimate regions. Another Def Leppard song came to mind in that moment. Have you ever needed someone so bad....yes...yes you did. It wasn't just about sex though. When it came to Lee, you wanted the whole kit n kaboodle, you wanted all of him, something Gerry had deprived you of.

The song ended and you turned off the player because Lee had become quiet, lost in thought...and you were willing to bet it was about Gerry.

"So...as promised, I will tell you about Gerry...that's if you really want to know."

"Jo, if I have made you feel that you need to, I am sorry. I meant what I said, it's none of my business."

"But...I think that it is. Yes, we were engaged. I have had other relationships but the longest was with him, two years. I thought he was different, but to make that part short and sweet, he wasn't. Gerry cheated on me....and the person he did it with only made it that much more unforgiveable. My sister, Megan...the one who sent you those photos and lied about me and Orlando. She was always after any man I would show interest in and it's the number one reason I cannot stand her among many other reasons."

After mentioning Orlando, you suddenly remembered you were supposed to go to dinner with him tonight. Now what were you going to do? If you had received Lee's letter sooner, you never would have accepted. How were you going to tell Lee? You knew you had to at some point, but you continued on with your tale of Gerry.

"We were already having problems because of Jason. I'm not sure if you are aware, but Jason was in organized crime, which is another reason Gerry wants my statement so damn bad about the explosion. And then there was was the death of my half brother Bo, three years ago on Thanksgiving."

"God, Jo, I am so sorry. I didn't know you had another brother....and to have lost two of them now...Jo...I...you don't have to do this..."

"It's ok Lee....I...I don't talk about him. It's too painful...but I will with you. I trust you. He had a brain tumor that he hid from everyone until it was too late. God, I never understood why. He was only 48 and had a wife, a son and a daughter. Thanksgiving day, he collapsed and later died that night. I bet you could have saved him."

You began to lightly sob. Lee removed his arm from the back of your seat and took your hand into his.

"If I had had the opportunity, I would have done everything in my power to help him. I'm so sorry sweetheart."

His words, his touch...gave you the strength to continue.

"I know you would have. Bo was as stubborn and hard headed as they came....and he was damn good detective. Things were hard for him too with Jason with being his brother....and then there was Gerry, Bo's best friend and partner....and...also his brother. Yeah...so...he and Gerry share a father, a notorious Greek tycoon who was and is in crime up to his ears, so Bo and Gerry's relationship with him was pretty rocky. Victor Kiriakis, you may have heard of him. Lives in that secluded enormous mansion on the bay. Bo and Gerry are just a few of his many offspring. The man certainly had his way with the ladies, including my mother which resulted in Bo, the oldest of us remaining three. She was young and hadn't met my father yet...As far as Gerry, his mother lives in Scotland. When Gerry was in his early twenties, he found out about Bo and came here to find him. None of us knew about Gerry, not even Victor. Gerry's mother, Margaret Butler, strangely another Margaret like my mom, Margaret Brady March, had finally told him after the man he knew as his father, had died. Bo and Gerry became inseparable and Gerry eventually moved here. Bo's death brought me and Gerry closer together and then things just kinda happened and eventually, he asked me to marry him a year ago. I accepted and then soon found out what he did and I ended it. So there ya have it."

Lee squeezed your hand. "Jo...I am so sorry for all that you have been through and I thank you for trusting me with such a personal and sensitive matter. Your brother sounds like he was a really great guy. Wish I could have known him and even tried to help him....and I am really sorry for what Gerry did to you. I cannot even understand that, how any man could ever want another over someone like you."

Lee realized what he had said and pulled his hand away from yours with a look of shame upon his face.

"Lee? what's the matter?"

"I'm a hypocrite, that's what. Jo...that girl you found me with. I swear to god I didn't sleep with her. I know I already told you this but I am not sure if you believe me and I can understand why. I didn't want her and I know you probably believe otherwise after what you walked in on, but I swear Jo, I would never had gone through with it, even if you hadn't showed up. My mind, my heart...it was not and is not with her..."

"You mean Jess."

"Yeah...how..did.."

"I went to high school with her. A slut then, a slut still."

You took his hand back. "Lee...I believe you and let's not talk about her ever again ok?" you smiled and he nodded.

The rest of the drive there, the music played as you and Lee talked about normal things while your hand remained locked inside his. You couldn't bring yourself to ruin this moment by telling him about your pre-planned date with his best friend, which you were now inclined to terminate, but how was the question. You didn't want to hurt Orlando, for he had been nothing but good to you and there for you when you needed him.

Lee pulled into the parking garage, followed by Gerry. You went to get out but Lee wouldn't let go of your hand.

"Wait." he smiled and got out, trotting around the car and then opened your door. "My lady." he grinned, waving his hand down in front of him and bowing.

"Oh my god Lee, stop." you laughed and got out.

Gerry slammed his door and came marching over to the two of you, looking you up and down.

"You kiddin me?" is all he said as he was pissed off that you had taken the long way there...which is what you were hoping for.

He took a step forward and Lee dauntlessly placed two fingertips on Gerry's chest.

"Back off." he lionheartedly commanded.

Both men were a lot of boy, but Lee stood three inches taller than Gerry and peered down at him fearlessly. Gerry was far from intimidated and now even more pissed off as he stared down at Lee's hand, then brought his focus back to you.

"You wanna call your pit bull off before I take him to the pound and have him out down?" Gerry snapped with sarcasm.

"Gerry, shut the hell up."

"I'd like to see you try." Lee snarled as he lowered his hand but didn't move or take his eyes off the witty detective.

Gerry removed his sunglasses and pursed his lips.

"Ok...stop...both of you!"

You took Lee's hand and tugged at it, making him look at you.

"He's not worth it. Come one, let's go get this over with."

"Oh hold up there sunshine. The tenacious doctor here isn't going anywhere with you. You can tie him to a leash in the lobby while I take your statement."

"What if I want to stay?" Lee adamantly retorted.

"Wow, he seriously needs some training Josie. Where'd you find this one? On some street corner rooting through the trash? You always did have a soft spot for strays." Gerry also retorted.

"I took you in didn't I, the stray brother from Scotland? He comes with me or no statement. End of story Gerry."

Your words stunned and stung Gerry.

You did instantly feel bad for saying what you did, but you weren't going to let him belittle Lee like that. As Lee had defended you, you were going to defend him also.

"Yep...fine. Let's get this the fuck over with. After you." Gerry barked and waited for you both to go.

You and Lee both sat down beside each other on a couch in Gerry's office that was the size of an entire living area. He was the big wig around there aside from Commissioner Hernandez, who was in a relationship with Bo's widow, you're sister in law and also a detective, Hope. You had wished she could have taken this case but she was on leave visiting her daughter Ciara in another state who had just had a baby. Bo's son Shawn was also on the force but he went with his mom to meet his new nephew. So Gerry got stuck with you, and you knew he was more than thrilled to do it. He still pined for you and had tried so hard to win you back after what he had done, but you just couldn't forgive him or trust him anymore.

Gerry walked in and folded his arms over his chest.

"Alright...tell me everything about the day of February 1st, 2023."

You took in a breath and sighed it out heavily as you closed your eyes.

"Hey...Jo..." Lee took your hand and sweetly smiled at you. "Just breathe."

It was the same thing Lee had told you in the hospital that day and he knew you would remember. You took in another breath, released it softly and then smiled back at him. He was your rock. There was no way you could relive that horror without him.

You began your tale, but tweaked it some, because what you knew could put you six feet under like Jason, which is the entire reason you avoided this all together. Jason had taught you well on how to get around the police and Gerry knew it, which was part of the issues you and he had in your past relationship with him.

"I...I went to meet Jason for lunch at the Floating Rib down at pier 55." Tweak one, you left out the part of you meeting with him just 4 hours earlier and how he spoke about his funeral arrangements. "It was about 2 pm. We were there about one and a half hours. After we were finished eating, I left. As soon as I walked out the door, the entire place.....exploded...and I woke up on the ground with EMT's tending to me. I was able to get up and I didn't see Jason anywhere. I panicked and tried to run back inside but some firemen stopped me...and then I collapsed and woke up in the ER. They treated my arm which had been cut, did a bunch of tests and then released me. That's it..."

"That's it? Like hell Josie. You and Jason were as tight as my asshole and I know when you're hiding things as well as I know every mole on your body. If this was all there was to it, you wouldn't have eluded me all this time. What did you both talk about? How was Jason's demeanor? What did you have to eat?" Gerry harshly grilled.

"Hey, take it easy on her! She's been through a lot!" Lee snapped.

"You seriously need a muzzle. This is my job and she's not being forthcoming with me. Now answer the questions Josie."

"Ok seriously? Jason and I talked about life. We hadn't been spending much time together. He seemed fine and I had a shrimp basket and he had a plate of ribs and a baked potato...with butter and sour cream..oh and I had an iced tea with a fucking lemon. Can I go now? I don't want to talk about this anymore. There's nothing more to tell Gerry.""

"Yes there is. You said you went to go back inside? Did you see anything, or anyone unusual before or after the explosion? You said you left before Jason, what was he doing?"

Tweak number two. "No...nothing...or no one. Jason went to use the bathroom."

But when you had walked out to leave, you saw a man all dressed in black looking at a cell phone... a man you recognized as Julian Jerome, a member of one of the crime families. He had told you that you better be moving along.

He hit a button on his phone and bolted. Two seconds later the place blew up.

The Jerome's were major rivals with Jason's mob boss, Sonny Corinthos. You had tried to turn and scream for Jason, but it all happened too fast.

You felt your chest constricting and broke down, throwing your hands over your face while Lee rubbed your back.

You knew Jason was the victim of a mob hit, and you also knew that he knew it was going to happen soon. He had actually been on his phone frequently throughout your luncheon and seemed on edge. He didn't finish his meal and told you he needed to go take care of something and would see you soon. You didn't question him because you knew he was always like that, taking off at Sonny's beck and call. Jason hugged you and then said he was going to the restroom, and told you to go wait in the car, which he was quite adamant about but not enough to alert you to danger...and that never clicked with you until after it all happened. He knew there was a bomb and whomever he was texting, had warned him....at least that's what you believed.

"Alright, this is enough. Look how upset she is. Are you satisfied now?" Lee angrily snapped.

"Oh, I'll be satisfied when she tell me the WHOLE truth and I am about losing my patience with the both of you. You're forgetting about how much I know Jason Morgan's dealings and this? This was no accident, it was a fucking bomb and people are dead, one of them being your brother Josie! Do you not want the people responsible to be brought to justice??! Julian already got his karma...and you could have been killed too! So stop protecting your brother because he's gone!"

Now you were really bawling. Gerry was an all out blatant guy, he had to be in his line of work...but he was never like this with you. You knew it was because Lee was there and he could see how happy he made you.

"Stop! Please make it stop...I can't do this...I wanna leave. Lee please, get me out of here."

Lee put his arm around you and pulled you against him.

"Are you finally fucking satisfied detective?!" Lee shouted. "You're a real piece of work. Let's go Jo."

Lee helped you up and escorted you out as Gerry watched in remorse. He never meant to break you like that but he felt it was the only way to get you to be honest...and he failed miserably.

All the way back to Lee's, you stared out the window, still and silent as he drove. He wanted to pull you over to him and hold you so bad but he didn't want to push anything on you. Lee knew what Gerry did hurt you really bad and you just needed some space to work through it on your own.

Lee pulled into his driveway, shut the car off and sat for a moment, not knowing what to do or say.

You wanted to tell him the entire truth that you hid from Gerry and everyone else, but you couldn't...you wouldn't put him in any danger because of you. The less he knew, the better. Julian Jerome had wound up swimming with the fishes shortly after the explosion and you knew it was Sonny's doing, and this was all something you did not want Lee involved in. You couldn't live with yourself if something happened to him because of you.

You both went inside where you knew you then would have to tell Lee about Orlando, as it was 3 pm and Dr. Bloom was supposed to pick you up in three hours.

Lee stood at the closet and took his shirt off, revealing the navy blue tee underneath that he was wearing earlier.

"Hey, go relax on the couch while I clean up the glass and secure the windows. God knows I am never going to get this house fixed now. I'll order us some food in a bit if you'd like? Maybe watch some movies?"

His smile was so beautiful, yet devastating to you because you were about to take it away.

"Lee...I...I have to tell you something. But..I swear I'll fix it."

"Tell me what Jo? If it's about Gerry, you do not need to do that. You've endured enough today with him and you have already told me everything didn't you? Come...stay with me and chill out for awhile. I love spending time with you. For the most part, today was really nice. Maybe I'm a bit selfish, but I just don't want you to leave."

Fuck! How were you going to do this? Rip out the little shreds of happiness he had left, happiness that you brought him. You didn't want to leave either. Cuddling with him on the couch is all you wanted to do and hopefully pick up where you left off with that almost kiss.

"Lee...please. Just let me get this out. I don't want to keep anything from you.... if I don't have to."

You had to thrown that last little bit in since you couldn't tell him the full story on that day with Jason.

"Ok? what is it Jo?" he asked as his smile faded. He could tell it was something serious.

"Just know that...if I had known...if I had received your letter sooner....ugh damn it! Lee....Orlando...he asked me out for dinner tonight and I had accepted."

There, you just blurted it out and watched Lee remove his shoes and look at you with an addled stare.

His response was not what you expected. You figured he'd at least try to talk you out of it...or something.

"Oh...well...then you should go." he flatly said.

"Wait...what? Lee, no. I want to tell him I can't go."

"No...don't do that. I've always known he was sweet on you. I know him better than anyone does. It's not your fault that I didn't get to you in time. You committed to a date, so you should go."

"But, that's exactly it. I committed to it without knowing anything. Lee...when I met you in the hospital...I tried to talk to you again. I asked Orlando to tell you I wanted to speak with you but he later told me you had already left. I wanted to..."

"Wait...you asked to see me? when exactly?"

"The next day, just a few hours before I was released that morning. Why?"

"What time?"

"What time? why does that matter?"

"Jo...please. Just humor me. What time was it?"

"Ok...I...I don't know, I believe it was around 6 am. I later left about 9."

"That son of a ..." Lee mumbled and turned away.

"Lee? what...what is going on?"

"Jo...I didn't leave the hospital until 8 am. Orlando had came into my office fifteen minutes before I left...and he never said a word about you....and now...after all this time...he still has said nothing about that."

"Lee, I am sure he just forgot. He had no idea we even knew each other then....well I mean, he knew that we had met but...I don't know...that morning, some bitch of a nurse was giving him a hard time about his handwriting and..."

"Jesus...so it was you he told me about...that got upset at the nurse."

"Told you about?"

"Yes, here...the night he came over to help with the house...the night before you came over the next day to check on me. He fucking knew all that time who you were and said nothing about you asking for me....and he knew when I told him about...I sat right there in the kitchen and told him of a patient I met...he knew who...he fucking knew."

"Lee, calm down. He knew when you told him about what?"

"You Jo...I was talking to him about you. I didn't mention your name...Look, when he got here, he smelled your perfume. It was all over my shirt from the day before when you had helped me up off of the floor...so then he started grilling me about having a woman here....and he caught on in the continued conversation from my discreetness that it was you, but the little shit never said a word....and still didn't when he later saw you here. Now it all makes sense."

"Lee...I'm sure it wasn't intentional?"

"Jo, did you not just hear a thing I said? The hell it wasn't intentional. He had interest in you and he picked up on the fact that I did too at some point. Most likely when you had asked for me when I wasn't your doctor. He didn't forget Jo...and what's his excuse after all this time huh? And now he has asked you out. Common sense right there."

"Ok...so, what if you're right. Is it that much of a big deal? I told you I will cancel it because I would like to stay here with you."

"No Jo...you already told him you would go....and for you to accept...you must have some interest in him? And now...you're defending him too after knowing what I told you, which verifies that interest. You're right, it's no big deal. We had a moment, but like you, I have had too many bad moments to let another one happen. Just go Jo. You don't want to be late."

Lee walked to the front door and opened it, waiting for you to do as he told you.

You stared at him for a moment and then just sighed out a sarcastic breath in disbelief as you walked onto the porch and turned to look at him.

"Really Lee? After everything, you're gonna pull the noble asshole card?"

He was speechless as he gazed at you with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly hung open.

"I wanted to be here tonight. After all the bullshit today, I just wanted to be here with you...and I wanted to be honest with you, so I told you about Orlando...and I was willing to cancel that so I could be with YOU because for the first time in forever, I had actually felt safe and happy around someone...that someone being you...but that was just not good enough for you was it? We've both been through some shitty relationships obviously, with cheating partners, but I'm not Elizabeth Lee! I have had my own walls up just like you and I swore that no one would ever break through them...and then...I let my guard down and let you in...Maybe I was wrong about you...trusting you and all, because you're obviously too far gone to see what the fuck is right in front of you."

Your words rocked him to his core.

You marched down the steps and then spun back around.

"I"ll go out with your best friend, but only because you told me to, and you can sit here all alone knowing I could have been here, right where I wanted to be! But you're too damn petulant....or better yet...you're what you said you were...your own worst enemy."

You ran to your car and sped off. Lee stood on the porch watching you leave as he recalled that day he told you that, standing at your car in his driveway listening to that song.

What did he just do, he asked himself...and WHY? He had the most precious thing right in his grasp and he let it slip right out of his hands. He knew why...and he admitted it to himself in that moment. He was scared...scared to death..... because he knew he was truly, madly, deeply and irrevocably in love with you.

"You think the shadow of doubt is hanging over my head, it's just an angel who's wings hide the sun. It's myself I betray, I cannot wish this away. Took my chance, now the damage is done. All I want is everything. Am I asking too much?"

@redeemer46

[arctosv]

Hauntober Prompt 8: Tarot

The Fools

Three friends are hanging around a table out on a brick patio outside a restaurant as the sun begins to set, coloring the sky in an amber hue. Each person having just finished a large dessert and drink, looking almost miserable.

“I don’t know about y’all, but I don’t think I want to get up to move for a while. That black out donut nearly ended me dude.” One friend half joked as they looked around to heads nodding in agreement.

“Lindsay how did you manage to eat all of yours and then some of Michaels? He couldn’t even finish his.” A voice spoke out with slight concern, checking both plates to confirm that both donuts were indeed fully eaten.

“Ray, I didn’t even get a say in the matter, they just took the rest of my sin-a-bomb and devoured it whole. I’m going to order at least two to go, one for me and one for Lindsay. I can’t trust them not to just eat mine.” Michael claimed while laughing as Lindsay nodded in agreement with his claims.

‘Well, seeing as we’re all too miserable to move, I say let’s have some fun.” Lindsay suggested as they dug into their bag and pulled out a deck of cards, placing them on the table.

“Hell yeah, I love Cardcaptor Sakura!” Ray cheered as he reached out for the cards, only to have his hands swatted away by Lindsay. "What gives?”

“These are tarot cards dude, slightly different from clow cards.” They explained as they pulled out a sheet of instructions. “Figured now would be as good a time as any to try them out.”

Reaching over quickly Ray nabbed all of the cards from the table. “I can do a reading, just trust me, I have a vague idea of what I’m doing.” He insisted as Lindsay and Michael rolled their eyes and eventually agreed. “Alright, so Michael you can go first, I just need you to pick three cards from this spread.” He explained as he shuffled and then spread the cards face down across the table.

Michael reached forward and selected three cards from the spread, pulling them forward. “What now, do I just flip them over or something?” He asks Ray who nods in response. Flipping over all three of the cards Lindsay, Michael, and Ray lean in to get a better view.

“Let’s see, you’ve drawn the fool, the wheel of fortune, and the lovers card. Very very interesting…” Ray trailed off as he studied the cards thoughtfully for a few minutes.

“Well what does it mean Ray?” Michaels asks, interrupting Ray's train of thought.

Picking up the fool card, Ray began to speak. “The fool indicates someone who can be reckless and free, so in your case I’d say recklessness applies fully.” Eliciting an eyeroll from Michael and a nod from Lindsay. “Now for wheel of fortune it generally means inevitable fate or bad lack, but both of those could apply to you. As for the lovers card it could represent harmony or loss of balance. I mean it seems like y’all are pretty in sync with each other.” Ray shrugs as Michael and Lindsay agree with the last bit.

“Ok so what does it all mean then? Is Lindsay going to run me over with a car or what?” Michaels asks.

“Proba-” Lindsay starts before being interrupted.

“It means you need to watch out because Lindsay is going to eat your takeout dessert when y’all get home.” Ray laughs being joined by Lindsay as Michael rolls his eyes.

AO3 Link

[lifeafterthelayoff]

Part II, Day 67

How do you write these posts?

I sit down a little bit too late at night and type them out in a Google Doc titled “Time to Make the Donuts” on my wireless keyboard that’s connected to my laptop. (Shoutout to everyone that gets the donut reference.)

That’s the mechanics of it, but that’s also probably not the answer that people are looking for when they ask that question.

I started last May when I was laid off for the first time. It was a reaction, a way to process what I was feeling and a documentation of what the process of finding a new job looked like. The challenge was that I didn’t exactly know. (And I guess the learning-in-front-of-everyone thing was going to be part of it.)

I did it for 85 days the first time, ending on the day I signed the contract on a new full-time job. I started it again when I was laid off for a second time in January. And here we are today.

There are days when mid-day Clinton is kind to 11pm Clinton, and he types the post earlier in the day. But not always. I could also bank a few of them, typing things up in advance, but I haven’t yet done that. I sorta like the urgency and authenticity of writing it the day-of.

Not all of these posts are typed out first. If my daughter is taking her piano lesson via Zoom on this computer, I’ll take pen to paper and write out a draft by hand, typing it later. 

I’ve also created a few drafts using the Dictation feature on my iPhone. Those posts seem to get a bit more ponderous, as I’m either waiting for something or walking, or both.

The ideas themselves pop into my head at all hours, so I have a Notes file open with a list of to-write topics. When the idea arrives, I type it in right away so I don’t forget. 

These words are all mine, with no AI assistance save for that one example in the request-for-feedback post. (It was labeled as such.) It’s important to me that I author this material alone. I’m a big fan of AI—I recently received an AI prompting certification and I use AI daily for other tasks—but these posts are where my soul should shine through.

Writing these posts keeps me sharp (sharp-ish?) and confirms that I do indeed love to write. LOVE IT. These are all pretty quick drafts, written in a few minutes, so they may seem a little rough around the edges, maybe a little meandering at times. I’m fine with that. I’m reserving my most beloved turns of phrase for the poetry I write with a pencil, in cursive, in a tiny black notebook. 

This feels a little off-topic but hey, it’s Saturday night! Anyway, thanks for reading this far. I appreciate you!

[notarealwelder]

(previously on Neko Kuro liveblog)

At this rate I just might finish Neko Kuro by 2025.

In any case! Neko Kuro ep 2 go.

(a moonlit night, an abandoned schoolbuilding..)

---

Hey ~~Shinobu~~! (She does have a personality somewhere!)

---

On the subject of openings: since when does Hanekawa play guitar?

---

Asking Shinobu for tricks in exchange for donuts.....feels weird. I..kind of see what Gatari haters have to hate about it, and I do not particularly like seeing that. Why shouldn't it gloss over as mood-lifting wacky hijinks, come on. (Did it feel weird year ago? Notes do not say. Bleh.)

---

Heeeey Meme

---

Then again: would we have such cool visuals if Shaft did not need to fill the screentime with something?

---

..."Oddities are shaped by human expectations & perceptions" may simply be worldbuilding, but why not suspect that everything is a metaphor. Is this one about humans being shaped by society? By expectations of normalcy, tradition, "you do not want to be visibly abnormal e.g. by having problems"...

(....from that perspective the whole series and the central concept of Oddities makes a disquieting sort of sense: aren't all the oddity-afflicted characters simply People With Problems? Who have it bad enough that they can't present the front of normality anymore? And therefore are visibly Odd?)

..and now I should parse everything Meme says into ordinary-urban-fantasy and into humans-have-problems lenses both. Great.

(I mean, that's what I signed up for, really.)

---

What's up with these school desks, anyway

(They're not static, if you're wondering.)

---

[...]confirm that she's safe [...] and pay close attention to her eyes when you do.

This here could stand a more literal-in-word-order translation! Original goes:

顔見ながら目を見ながら話をして彼女の無事を確認してくるんだ。

Or, somewhat literally, "look her in the face; look her in the eye; talk to her, and confirm that she's safe." The dramatic emphasis is on the last segment, and visuals enforce that! So I'd rather preserve check-she's-safe in the latter position. (The translation also produces an emphasis on the eyes, which I think wasn't there.)

---

Oh hey a Hanekawa (black)------

-------good thing Araragi's durable, anyway.

(And Hyouri is always a delight.)

---

(What does a discharged phone represent?)

---

In retrospect, what is with Meme's window(?) styling

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触らぬ猫に祟りなしだ。

I'm sure there are like four masterful puns on "sawaru" in here which I cannot comprehend.

(Translators tried their best though!)

---

So you probably were, to some degree, a vampire at the time. But at the end of the day? You're human. You don't stand a chance against a real Oddity.

---would be uncouth to call it trauma contest, but is this in some way about...relatively untroubled people having a hard time comprehending others' problems? (...or dealing constructively with raging outbursts?)

---

.....there's something about being told to...stand back and not interfere with a professional, but I'm not coming up with quips. (Could Meme be riling Araragi up to predictably have a positive effect later?)

It's a matter of [...] skill, and ability.

(Wonder what does this mean in humans-have-problems sense. That someone experiencing a breakdown is better off ≈handled by a ≈mental health professional? .....well certainly not exclusively!)

---

Overall statistics:

Shaft head tilt count: 7ish

---

This is a preview hallucination.

Certainly.

Wait, what's the point of doing that?!

Indeed!

[darthtimon]

The Meerkat Muse - 8/3/23

Here we go again, it's Meerkat Muse time!

Racoons are cool. Not meerkat levels of cool, but cool nonetheless. Bus Mishaps It seems there is a growing trend of late, for buses to be... awkward. My wife has recounted to me more than story where she has rung the bell, and the bus hasn't stopped. This also happened when I was on the bus the other day, as I brought my daughter home from school. An older gentleman pushed the buzzer, and the driver didn't stop. He went to the front of the bus, bringing with him his little trolley full of shopping, and asked the driver to stop. In fairness, the driver did stop, a little further along, and let the guy off by the side of the road. The side of the road happened to be a patch of grass, and whilst the bus lowered for the benefit of the guy and his trolley, it was hardly an idea exit, and the poor guy ended up falling over. I happened to be at the front of the bus, so I leapt off to try and help him up. The driver joined me a moment later, and we were able to help him. It was, for a moment, worrying. The guy didn't go down hard, but when there's no idea how vulnerable or frail someone is, and they have a fall, there is alarming potential for harm. I don't know what it is with local bus services lately, but between randomly switching out routes, and missing stops, the quality of them has gone downhill. Word Mishaps Oh man. I shouldn't confess to this one, but it's too funny not to. My daughter and I ventured into a local supermarket after school, as she wanted some yoghurts. On the way in, she paused by some packs of cinnamon buns. She kept insisting she wanted them, and I kept reminding her that her mother had bought donuts the day before. My daughter can be persistent, but I wasn't going to yield. I turned to her, and told her 'I am not buying, uh, cinema bums.' Needless to say, we laughed. I couldn't quite believe I'd mixed up my words so completely, as to say 'cinema bums'. Well, my wife is eying up seeing the new Magic Mike film, that will feature 'cinema bums'... The Promise I guess you could call this a promise, though I don't quite know if promise is the right word. A customer recently had some issues with a delivery, and he assured me that if said problems were not resolved within the timescale he deemed appropriate, he would escalate the matter. He was understanding that delivery issues are not the fault of the store or myself, but unfortunately, my colleagues and I are the first ones in the firing line. Here lies an issue with retail sales. When a problem arises that's no fault of the store, it's still the staff in the store who end up getting moaned at (and in some cases, shouted/screamed at). It is the staff in stores who are asked to call customers to explain delays to deliveries, and we are the first port of call for damaged/defective goods. We are on the 'front lines', and that is not always a pleasant place to be. There is only so much we can do from the showroom to resolve a transport or warehouse issue. Customers want assurances, or indeed, promises as to when these issues can be resolved, but to make matters even more complicated, customer service teams aren't usually available at weekends, and the warehouse and transport teams run skeleton crews at weekends. This makes getting a resolution to problems in these fields much more difficult. A meerkat cannot promise a timescale if he cannot even speak to the relevant department! I do understand the frustrations of this particular customer, who has always been completely fair towards me. Unfortunately, my power to help him is dependent upon other departments, in other locations. Like I said, it is frustrating. Turmoil and Tragedy My daughter had an unexpected couple of days off school the other week. She was not unsurprisingly not upset by this, though that was before we all understood the reason. I was taking her to school, and as the bus rounded a corner, I received a text, informing me that due to an incident, her school would be closed. We were able to hop off the bus and head home, and my wife called me, to inform me she'd had the same text. I told a few kids who go to my daughter's school of the news, and I brought my daughter home. We didn't learn the reason until later. Sadly, a member of staff at the school was taken ill, and died. In wake of the news, the school would remain closed the following day as well. Once again, life reminds us that it is precious, and to be cherished, because you never know when it may be snatched from you. Site Issues It seems that Jetpack and WordPress are no longer cooperating for me. I am no longer getting updates via the WordPress or Jetpack apps, so if you leave a comment, or like a post, I won't know until I get into the site via the admin page. I don't know what's caused this hiccup, but it's a tad annoying, as the app is particularly good for letting me write posts on the go. A Quiet Spell I don't have a lot to say of this Muse cycle. You might say it's been a relatively quiet spell. Work has trundled along as it does, and home life has trundled along as it does. The only thing of immediate note is that I might have a hernia! I have an ultrasound book for the end of March, so we'll see what that determines. Beyond that, there's been further work on the sequel to The Awakening. I've reached a pivotal moment in the story, and the fallout from it is going to be huge. That's all I will say! Read the full article