#and the machines are tiny so it often takes 2-3 loads

[samsqueerpolycule]

So you’re an American who watched Emily in Paris and now you have a little voice in your ear saying that it might be cool to move to Europe. Heed my warning! Do not listen to him! That little voice is the devil and he wants to ruin your life. Trust me. Trust me look me in the eyes do NOT move to Europe. It is not the fun quirky adventure you think it is. Do not do it! Don’t make the same mistakes I have

[heartfulofsighs]

Nice Things…

Hello All! Coming back with little writings here and there as my inspiration comes along. A little episode inside of the Something to do with Jackson sphere (1, 2) 

Let me know what you think! @negrowhat you know I gotta tag you in everything lol

Jackson decides you both are in need of a little rest and relaxation. Nothing is better then a nice beach house complete with a gigantic bath tub. 

About 4k words; Warnings: Very light smut like its super light, but I’m obligated to say it includes fingering a praise kink and a bathtub. 

Laundry shouldn’t be difficult. Well in retrospect it wasn’t difficult at your old apartment. The laundry room there was stocked with 5 very old very worn washing and drying machines. They were faithful and predictable. They only had about 3 options and 2 dials. Simplicity at its best. You missed them every time you had a load to wash and dry. You had been living in Jackson’s apartment for months and you still couldn’t figure out his machines. For one thing they were sleek and black, very modern, apparently super efficient. They worked via a touch screen and the breath of options that appeared every time you fired them up made you nervous. Twice you had shrunk a favorite article of clothing. You had also ruined your running shoes, the washing machine seemed incredibly aggressive to you. But today was going to be different. This was your only task. You could do this. The touch screen lit up, you took a breath, the beeping started and an array of options appeared. Water temperatures, agitation speeds, your finger hovered over the first option- “BABY, THIS IS WHERE YOU WERE!?” Jackson’s voice boomed in the laundry room. You turned, frantic that all his noise would upset whatever fragile understanding you had. “Jackson!” You hissed, “shush!”

  His hands snapped to cover his mouth. He looked around his brows knitted, “what’s going on?” He whispered. “I’ just,” you turned back to the machine but you didn’t feel the same confidence, “I’m trying to figure out your stupid space aged washing machine.” You confessed, “everytime I put something in here I ruin it.” “Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard.” He walked up behind you and looked down at the same screen. “Baby?” He began slowly, he touched the screen flicking left twice until he got to a place that said ‘presets’.  “Why don’t you just use these instead of trying to pick through all those other settings? This is what I use.” “You’ve got to be kidding me.” You muttered softly. There were easy to understand presets displayed proudly.   “You didn’t know about these?” He asked, “I could have sworn I showed you the last time you shrunk your sweater?” You rubbed your face in continued disbelief. All this time. “The dryer has presets too, did I show you those?” He kept talking because of course to him this wasn’t a big deal. You had made it one, once again, something tiny had become huge to you.   “You want me to help you with your laundry? Since I’m home today I wanna spend it with you ok?” When you took your hands away from your face he was beaming like the sun at you. You wondered how he could look so worry free. His job was so stressful, he barely got time for himself or you yet he was always beaming. You wanted to be a bit more like him. Just enough so that inanimate objects stopped irritating you for no reason.            “If you want to help sure, but this stuff is kinda boring. You sure you don’t want to nap? Or I could make you something to eat?” You offered.          “We can do that after, this won’t take long.” He pointed out. He wasn’t wrong. You selected the ‘delicates’ option since you wanted to wash your undies and bras first.          “Ok, delicates first then.” You looked in his direction expectantly. The two baskets of laundry were already separated.            “Just pass me the stuff in the blue basket.”  You instructed, “I’ll do them first.”   He dutifully began to hand you clothes. Some things he stopped to look at. “When did you get this bra?” He asked holding up a flowery bra that you had bought a few weeks ago.   “Like two weeks ago?” You guessed, maybe three. Your hand was outstretched waiting for it. “Oh,” was all he said before he handed it over, “I haven’t see you wear it.” He said softer. “Well, it’s a bra Jackson…” You tried. He handed you a few pairs of underwear which you put in. He was a touch less cheerful as you finished loading. He helped with the detergent and softner before he got the machine started. “I feel so dumb,” when you turned to him he frowned. “I really wish I had remembered about the presets. I’ve been having a battle with this machine since I got here.” You confessed. “Baby...I really don’t think it’s a big deal.” He leaned down and pecked you. “You can ask me questions you know? Before you make a mountain out of a molehill.” “But I’m so good at that.”  You pointed out. He kissed you again. His hands trailing down your arms. When you pulled away he pouted. “Let me at least finish the chores, I have a few things more I wanna clean.” You complained. He accepted this and let you go, “I’m gonna have two weeks off...do you have a lot of work?” He asked. It took you a moment to think about what you had to do, some things could wait and really only one required you to finish immediately. “I just have to finish one job then I think I can take some time off.” You stretched and looked at him with curiosity. “What did you want to do?” He pushed some of your hair behind your ear, “can we go on vacation?” “Where did you want to go?” You spoke as you tied your hair up. “Someplace warm?” You asked. He nodded, “an island!” It seemed like a solid idea. You thought it over, Jackson in his usual fashion grew impatient. He tapped his feet and poked out his lip, ���we can have a private beach house…” He edged closer. “That sounds...isn’t that a little extravagant?” You often wondered when you would be able to accept Jackson’s penchant for spending on you. There was something that always made you cringe. “I don’t want you to spend too much-” He frowned and you snapped your mouth closed, “you deserve…” He began. You sighed, “nice things.” He accepted you finishing his sentence quietly before he went back to trying to convince you. “It’ll be private...no cameras...just you and me.” He had basically backed you against the machine. He leaned forward and set his hands on it, caging you in. You couldn’t look away. “We live together but I always miss you,” he kissed you and it was mostly soft. “I’m gone a lot and I feel horrible about it,” he kissed you again nibbling on your bottom lip. “Do you miss me when I’m not here?” “Like crazy.” You whispered. His eyes were on yours, pupils wide. His breathing picked up as you snaked your arms around his neck. “So let me take you to the beach, let’s spend a week....please.” His kiss was less soft more insistent. He pushed until your back was pressed to the machine, the hum seemed to burn through your blood. You kissed him back, hands gripping the hair on the nap of his neck. The time apart always made the time together feel like a single point in the universe. There wasn’t a whole apartment, a whole city, there was just you and Jackson. Starved for each other, hungry to touch and feel. He was so good at making you melt, so good at making you desperate for him. You tasted him and whimpered. The beach was suddenly a fantastic idea, more time alone for more of this. He ground against you and his moan made your knees weak. “Ok,” you managed to say against his lips. He pulled away and beamed at you. The unmistakable look of getting his way. “So we’ll go the day after tomorrow...I actually may have set it up already.” “Jackson.”

You had never been swept away before. In past relationships you had lacked the time and your partners seemed to lack the motivation. It hadn’t bothered you truly because how can you miss something you didn’t have to begin with? You thought about it as you packed and he buzzed around the room with excitement. “Don’t forget bathing suites!” He warned, “and sunscreen!” “I have both.” You answered slowly, “and something nice for dinner...right?” When you looked up he was zipping his bag up. “Yes, and then...not much else…” He raised his eyebrows quickly suggestively and you giggled. He stopped to touch his hand to your leg, “I love you in anything.”   “If it was up to you, I’d just walk around naked all the time.” You said slowly. He considered this then said, “only if you want.” Then he was moving again, his energy nervous all throughout the room. “Are you almost done?” He asked. “The car will be here soon.” You just needed to decide on your one nice outfit. It had been a while since you had really gone out. He had seen you in just about everything you owned...except.... At the back of your closet you had hung a tropical print skirt and top set. It was out of your comfort zone but the print would really work. “Hurry hurry baby.” He chided. You had just enough time to grab it from the closet and stuff it into your bag. He took your hand and led you. The smile on his face relaxed yet you could feel the excitement bubbling out of him. He kissed you in the elevator before the doors opened, then led you to the long black car idling at the apartment building’s entrance. He opened the door for you and waited till you were settled before he put the bags in the trunk and got in next to you. Then his hand was back in yours like it belonged there. “Do you think you’ll get recognized at the airport?” You tried your best not to sound nervous but the thought of screaming fans made your stomach heavy. “I don’t think so, we’ll be in then out.” He brought your linked hands up for a kiss. “Don’t be nervous, it’ll be fine.” You settled into the seat and tried your best not to worry. The media in a way wasn’t very interested in you and Jackson’s story anymore. When they did happen to catch photos of you two together it wasn’t big news but most of the comments were still pretty awful. It was better for your mental health to not read them but every so often you saw yourself online and couldn’t stop yourself from looking. The general take was that you were literally a weight dragging him down. It never seemed like a good idea to comment back, better to just read it all in silence, and really it wasn’t all bad. There was a spattering of people who liked you. Who said nice things and said they were cheering on the relationship. People who pointed out that Jackson was happier with you in his life. You weren’t sure if you would give yourself that much credit but you hoped that he felt how you did. He leaned over, “what are you thinking about so hard?” He planted a kiss on your cheek startling you out of your own head. He had a way of knowing when you were thinking yourself down a rabbit hole. He redirected you gently and patiently. His hand squeezed yours again.   “Nothing, just the work I left...hopefully I did enough.” You said. He knew it wasn’t that, but he didn’t push.. He kissed you on the cheek again, “don’t worry about it, just try your best to relax.”  He whispered. It took you a moment of second guessing, but there was no real use in fighting with Jackson. Especially since you actually did need a relaxing vacation. There would be no worries on the beach, that’s all you had to tell yourself over and over and over again.  

There weren’t any cameras, no reporters, no mobs of fans. He had his mask pulled up and dark sunglasses on. You were wearing one of his caps and your own mask pulled up. The two of you looked like any couple on their way to a romantic trip. He only let go of you to pass through security. Once his hand was out of yours there were new worries. An airplane. The last time you had flown you were forced between a grumpy office worker and a woman who seemed to have bathed in perfume. You remember distinctly how the office worker had complained about her perfume and how she called him lonely and sad. It had been for the most part very unpleasant. Suddenly all you could think about were all your worse flights.  You fumbled through security, including the awkward second search. Taking his hand on the other side calmed you down a little bit. “You’re making a mountain again.” He said into your ear. “I can’t remember ever having a good flight,” you squeezed his hand and almost missed a step. “Every flight that lands safely is a good flight baby.” He chimed happily and just like that you relaxed a bit. He was right of course. Bad seatmates didn’t make a bad flight. Small things didn’t have to be big. Once again you tried to calm yourself, to convince yourself that you were on vacation. You were being swept away and it would be great if all your extra thoughts could be swept away too.

“This is the house?” After a flight you slept through, and an ok trip through the airport that involved a car rental associate who was star struck, here the two of you were. The house was directly on the beach. From the outside it didn’t look like much which made you feel a bit better. If he had rented a beach mansion or something along those lines you would have worried the whole trip about how much all of it had cost and...and if you were really worth all the trouble. But this,...this was so quaint and so cozy. “This is it.” He pulled into the driveway and then put the car into park. You got out admiring the house’s slightly cracked white paint, the green ivy underneath the two small windows on either side of the weathered wooden door. The waves sounded incredibly close and you guessed the beach was literally right in your backyard. Jackson was behind you with your bags. “Here,” when you turned he was holding the key towards you all smiles, “open her up.” He instructed. The key got stuck for a moment in the lock. You panicked per usual but it gave when you pushed your shoulder against the heavy wood. “Be careful,” he clucked his tongue at you but you ignored him. You were stuck looking at the inside. Everything was so bright. You sucked in a breath because of all the light. There were huge skylights all throughout. The entryway was neat, a small blue weathered table held a bowl where Jackson dropped the car keys. He pressed his hand to the small of your back and your feet automatically started to shuffle step forward. The entryway opened into a small kitchen with white tile and teal cabinets. The appliances didn’t look new aged or terrifying like Jackson’s. The big white well loved looking stove was comforting. Through the kitchen There was an open airy dinning room and living room. The living room ended in two gigantic glass doors that opened onto a hedge enclosed patio. The bricks were weathered but still a good red. There was a round picnic table with a few shelves, a rack with two surfboards, and what looked like a hot tub. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your cheek, “let’s look at the bedroom.” It was through a doorway off the kitchen, past a half bathroom. The bedroom suite seemed to be all windows. There were three huge windows with breezy white curtains. The bed was gigantic four poster deal, piled high with pillows at the head. The comforter was white like everything else. “There’s one of those clawfoot tubs,” He led you a little further in, towards the doorway of the bathroom. The tub was huge. There was a shower head on the wall above it. Another two windows, more light. “This place is beautiful.” You finally got out. He squeezed your hand, “I know you like simple things and I thought this place would be nice. The beach is right down a back path and-” You tipped your chin up lips pursed asking for him to dip and kiss you. “Thank you so much for bringing me,” you spoke against his lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist. “You’re welcome.” His smile was triumphant. He only let you go to help unpack but beamed the entire time like a happy child. You knew this look, his eyes were centered on yours. He licked his lips before he kissed you. “I picked this house because it’s cozy and…” He trailed off to kiss you again. “And?” “And you never wanna have fun in my bathtub so I made sure that this house had one that was so big you couldn’t argue with me about soaking together.”  He explained. “Jackson.” He beamed again his face back to innocence, “don’t you want to soak with me?” He asked. “You don’t just want to soak,” you pointed out. He shrugged, “humor me.”  In truth he had begged to soak with you plenty of times but the tub in his apartment made you nervous. You had this vision of the two of you settling in and getting stuck or getting in and overflowing the tub in an embarrassing splash. Well maybe it wouldn’t be embarrassing to him but in your mind it was motifying.  You bit your bottom lip and considered the big claw foot tub in the house again. “I guess there’s no harm in a nice soak.” You said softly.  He could barely contain his excitement, he moved deliberately trailing his hands down your waist then squeezing. He searched your face before he broke out into a grin that made you laugh.   “Jackson,” it was hard not to laugh at him. “Jackson right now? You don’t want to eat first?” He cocked his head, “I do, but let’s do that later, my back hurts from the flight.” You made a ‘sure’ face but didn’t argue. It was better to humor him, he gave your bottom another not so gentle squeeze before kissing the top of your head. “So a nice bath, then I’ll make you food,...” he trailed off and took your hand.

The fragrance from the bubble bath he found was making your head feel dreamy and relaxed. His back was against one side of the tub and yours was on the other. He insisted on massaging your feet and there really wasn’t any huge point to arguing. He rubbed away while you sighed slowly to yourself. “You have the cutest little feet.” He murmured. “They’re so gross.” Your response was automatic, years of having being told they were flawed in some way meant that you were use to parroting back the words when you were complimented. “They’re perfect on you.” He dug deep into the sole of your foot and you couldn’t help but groan. “Always say nice things about yourself.” He murmured. “Yeah I know.” You sunk lower into the water and he took the invitation to work his hands up your leg. It was hard for you to say nice things about yourself all the time. You were use to your self deprecating jokes. But he was quick to redirect them, he always told you to make it nice instead. His hands were steady on your body focusing your mind back into the moment.  It was never gonna be just a soak, but you didn’t do anything to stop him. He felt the back of your knee and a shiver ran up your body. His eyes were focused on your skin, “you’ll let me do this at home now right?” He pulled himself a little closer so his hands could go further up, “a nice hot bath, foot massages.” “You’re very good at them,” your voice was barely above a whisper. His eyes seemed to darken. He leaned farther forward, upsetting the water and bubbles so he could kiss your forehead. Under the water his hand had made it all the way up which meant his fingers were in a prime position to rub you where you were most sensitive. He kept the pressure light, teasing you. A whine broke past your lips. He ducked his head and kissed you. “I want you to relax,” he said softly against your lips, he dipped his fingers inside of you. It was so hard not to squirm, he pulled them back and forth slowly before he stopped. You gripped the sides of the the tub and tried to urge him to move. His eyes were mischievous. “Jackson,” You tried to roll your hips to get him to do anything but tease you. He cocked his head, “say something nice about yourself.” The command confused you. Your brow furrowed and for a moment you were confused, “what?” He pulled his hand completely away and touched your face instead. “I read that it’s nice to hear compliments from others but reinforcing it with words you say to yourself is even better.” His voice was earnest his hand dipped into the water again and found your breast. “Something nice…” He played with your nipple and you whimpered. Your mind was reaching for something, any sort of compliment that would make sense. “I like my thighs.”   He beamed, triumphant, then pinched your nipple lightly, “what else baby? You’re so beautiful there’s a million things to compliment.” You were so use to his praise that it was hard to give yourself the same attention. He switched to your other nipple and kissed your forehead again. “One more.” He encouraged. You swallowed, his hands sending pleasure and want all throughout your body. You willed your brain and your mouth to talk, to say something so he would give you what you needed. “I have nice skin...the cream you gave me makes it so soft.” You admitted. He liked that, he kissed you harder. He had both hands involved now, tickling the sides of your tummy. The giggle that escaped your mouth made his smile even wider. “The most perfect skin.” He spent the rest of the bath praising you. Cooing all his favorite compliments while he played with your body. It didn’t take long before your hands gripped the side of the tub and you called his name. Your body locked and then the pleasure ripped through your limbs in what felt like a blaze. Dimly you knew you had splashed water and maybe that would have embarrassed you, but there were more important things. Like the way you still shook while he kissed you everywhere he could reach. If you felt dreamy before your mind was downright foggy now. “You liked that baby?” He asked, finally pulling away to look at you. Your bones felt like jelly, thank god the tub wasn’t too deep. There was no doubt in your mind you would have melted further into the water. It took you what felt like hours to barely nod your head and indicate that yes you had indeed liked it. “It’s so cute when you say my name like that.” he went back to sitting across the tub from you, a smug smile on his face. You didn’t know what face you were making but hopefully it was satisfied. “Let’s just spend the rest of the time here.” You finally got out. He didn’t argue with you, just rested his head on the rim of the tub, “as long as you’re happy that’s all I care about.” You sat up a little, “I’m the happiest I’ve been in forever.” “Perfect.” He spoke softly and maybe it was more to himself than you but he was right. The feeling was perfect.        

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL

April 2021 Part 4 

it’s my birthday week! *raises a glass of pink milk* 

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Second Chance Ep 4 - oh noes my babies are all so sad! Teen angst for the win. Tropes included: crying in shower, a very significant hand hold, & striped shirts. (At this point over half the cast has been in stripes.) 

Love Machine Ep 1 - not gonna lie, I barely made it through the first half, this is a short run LOW budget experimental web series and it’s not good. Dropped.  

Lovely Writer Ep 9 - I like it when LW gets serious because there are fewer dumb sound effects, but oof Aey, poor baby. How many Aeys have I known over the years? Rejected, broken, angry, lonely, and lashing out. On a different note, I haven’t see the “sex drug made us do it” plot device since 1980s Johanna Lindsey. Props to that cocktail rearing its ugly head. (yeh yeh) ZOMBIE TROPE ALERT. (Is this the point where I remind the world at a-play doesn’t have to hurt? Well, it doesn’t! Toys, prep, and lube people. Sheesh.) Anygay, zombie trope is put safely back underground. Please don’t let it rise again? (I KNOW, I’ll stop now.) So this was a rough episode, especially the back end. (Okay now I’ll REALLY stop.)  Seriously tho, BL doesn’t do a massive coming out family drama scene often. I liked LW’s handling of this one. Hard to watch but compelling. 

Close Friend Ep 1 (OhmFluke) - very cute snapshot into a LTR featuring an overworked music producer and his student BF. That’s the chassis for this whole series, each one has to do with the song & is a portrayal of that song’s message. Essentially, the theme of this one was remembering to make time for your partner. I enjoyed that. OhmFluke gave us easy casual familiar affection and a kiss, but no BL tropes, just romance. 

Fish Upon The Sky Ep 3 - Pi is a total spazz & the ghost story bit was... well, it was something wasn’t it? Lots of tropes: fixing his clothes, wound tending, drag baby around, piggyback, head in lap, hand hold, and ending on a drunk kiss. I just noticed Pi uses guu/mueng with Mork, but Mork’s a year older. (So I have a new entry onto the linguistic brats list.)  So rude and presumptuous. Also I gotta say this, don’t wear watches when you’re working on a cadaver, mmky boys? 

Y-Destiny Ep 4 - look MaxNat have great chemistry, this ep had loads of great tropes (e.g. cheek kiss, rooftop, public claiming via phone), it’s not their fault I’m just not wild about these characters. I do like Nuea’s wanna-be idol wardrobe though. And Sun is sporting the red bag version of Tharn’s black bag that I wanted so bad in TT2. (I wonder if I can score a knock off when I’m over there?) Regardless, I basically grinned all the way through this installment, so that’s another thumbs up from me for Y-Destiny. Who knew I’d come around? Man would I love to see these two get their own series. 

Brothers Ep 12 - teacher/student exposed! But the power of boys on phones will overcome all. No KhunKaow for me, so of course I found this ep tragically disappointing. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

HIStory 4: Close To You (Taiwan) Ep 6 - MuRen is officially a yaoi manga character in the flesh. H4′s outright mockery/subversion of tropes “don’t touch him he’s mine,” + “touch my lip & think of kissing” makes the fact that other (way more damaging) tropes are being blithely utilized without critique almost - dare i say it? - insulting. YongJie is trash but I’m the one who feels like trash because I want to forgive him. How aptly abusive & dysfunctional we all are. I don’t know whether to applaud H4 or start drinking. (Maybe this is the show I should invent a cocktail for? Who am I kidding? This is totally a jello shots show.) 

Friend or Lover (Taiwan) Ep 2 - I thought this was only a microfilm but turns out it’s a web series. It’s cute. I’m enjoying it. 

My Lascivious Boss (Vietnam) Ep 3 - subs take a while to drop but it’s still better than average. I like a secret identity trope, I love a grumpy/sunshine pairing, and the side couple is great but this ep was slow. With only 6 total (I assume) they better get the main couple together next ep or the improved quality of this series will be sacrificed on the alter of pacing issues. 

Word of Honor (China) Ep 28-30 - slowed down to focus on bad guys (yawn...ooo Scorpion...yawn again). Then baby gets kidnapped, other baby goes crazy, and old friends turn up. We end on DOOM because mathematically this was an episode 11. All boxes checked.

Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding (Korea) Ep 3-4 - how is this show SO DAMN CUTE & weirdly wholesome at the same time? Another one of those: Will Korea resolve this satisfactorily in 4 short eps? But I seem to say that half way through every Korean BL. These days, I have complete faith. Warm fuzzies for everyone. 

Stand Alones

Color Rush movie is the same as the series. There is a stinger at the VERY end (untranslated) but which I’m assuming has something to do with the missing mother. Is this a possible indication of a 2nd season? Hopefully someone will eng sub the stinger and post it out into the universe. So yeah, Color Rush movie = To My Star style, sadly, not Wish You. That said, I did enjoy watching with different subs. The first version I watched was fan subbed, and they were better on English colloquialisms. Viki’s subs are better on Korean colloquialisms. 

Breaking News 

Bunch of new press on Thailand’s I Told the Sunset About You 2 AKA I Promised You the Moon. Here’s a master post on the subject with all the links you could ever want. It will start airing May 27th 8 pm (Thai time) on LINETV.

New Thai Bl Golden Blood got a teaser trailer. Stars familiar side dish Gun Napat (Techno from LBC) as a rich kid who needs a bodyguard. Yeah, it looks to be the Thai version of Where Your Eyes Linger which is FINE. I love me a bodyguard romance. DO EETTT Thailand. Trailer contains ALL the tropes: dry his hair, piggyback, cooking together, and more, plus good smooches. It looks GREAT. Also cheeper to make then KinPorsche and it might get funded due to of residual enthusiasm. Also GOOD TITLE. 

Close Friend got another teaser trailer this one for Talay & Yoon (no subs). 

Taiwan has a new BL coming out... eventually. Looks to be a new franchise like the HIStory series with different couple(s) each season. It’s the first Taiwanese BL from a major in-country network. The first installment is titled Be Loved in House: I Do (seriously Taiwan, could we talk about your titles?). It stars a familiar face, Aaron Lai from HIStory: My Hero. It’s a grumpy/tsundere boss/employee office-set BL with some forced proximity to push them together. (Nods to Japan.) No release date, but (unlike Thailand) Taiwan usually doesn’t make announcements without content & serious intent. 

Gossip 

Taiwanese BL NOVEL Miracle dropped a trailer, no subs or translation. According to YouTube comments it was supposed to be part of HIStory3 but MODC took on its slot. Still it’s kinda fun to see what might have been.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed later than actual air date for International accessibility reasons.

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something. 

[vkelleyart]

Thoughts on fandom: inclusion and engagement.

(Art credit to the kindhearted @penpanoply​!)

There’s been some stuff floating around on Tumblr about strife in the CO/WS fandom, and though I haven’t been explicitly named-dropped on anything public, my DMs have been... active. lol Rather than rehash what’s been said already, I just want to impart a little wisdom and perspective in the hopes it may soothe frayed feelings and offer a way ahead for cultivating a respectful community. As someone who has been an active participant in online fandoms since the mid-’90s, which was the advent of online fandom content creation (shout out to my fellow X-Philes!), and who has also spent a chunk of her professional life managing social media for the federal government and for activist groups, I can promise you it’s all gonna be okay.

Here’s some context for why strife happens and what we can do to create a more inclusive and communicative fandom environment. 

1) It sounds cliché, but fandoms go through growing pains. 

In the case of the Simon Snow fandom, what was once a small and cozy space untouched by cataclysmic events (such as the release of *gasp* a sequel) has grown exponentially in a relatively short amount of time following the release of Wayward Son. Newcomers are eager to find a home in this space at the same time as folks who’ve been here a while may be consciously or unconsciously wary about widening their circle, and It’s important to remember that this is not necessarily an expression of bad behavior on either side but just human psychology doing its thing. 

The byproduct, however, is that tension and stress builds over time from the lack of meaningful communication across the divide, which subsequently fuels misunderstandings. Ironically, the interfaces we use to communicate don’t help with this because any existing communication about the tension happens in tiny vacuums until a trigger goes off and bad feelings go public. 

Way Ahead: These moments of destabilization are opportunities to see where we can be more self aware about how we engage with fandom and the kind of community we want to be. Can you promote, support, or befriend someone trying to gain a foothold? If yes, please do! Each person must reach their own decision about what they can do within the confines of their available energy, health, and time, but a little self awareness goes a long way as long as you’re honest with yourself and others if applicable about what you can contribute. Anyone who judges you for it isn’t worth the strife.

2) In a fandom comprised of vulnerable/marginalized people, it’s more accurate to say that cliques are “bubbles of trust.”

This one's important. Just by nature of the source material, the CO/WS fandom includes fans with a wide array of backgrounds and experiences, especially when it comes to those who identify with the characters’ queerness, mental illness, and/or trauma. I really believe––based on individual conversations/group chats––that the difficult lived experiences that so many of our fandom peers have endured has produced one of the most open, aware, and accepting fandoms I’ve had the pleasure of participating in. Our vulnerability is, in a real way, our strength.

That said, a community of survivors also has the side effect of cultivating small circles of engagement that I call “bubbles of trust.” When you’re a survivor of abuse, marginalization, mental illness, fill-in-the-blank, it’s often quite hard to risk casting a wide net and expanding your circle to include new faces––which can subsequently be internalized by equally sensitive and vulnerable newcomers as rejection, judgement, or inadequacy.

Way Ahead: First of all, there may indeed be gatekeeping and exclusion going on. But before internalizing someone’s cagey behavior as gatekeeping or purposely exclusionary, ask yourself if you have all the information. Many people are private (I include myself in this assessment) because life has regrettably taught them to be this way, and so they may insulate themselves to a small group of people who have earned their trust. Some people might also triggered by certain content (case in point: smut triggers my anxiety) so they don’t engage with it. Others might have something in their pasts that define how they handle certain subjects (for example, a person of color should not be tone policed for getting angry when confronted with a racialized microagression, however accidental it was). You just don’t know what you don’t know. 

The solution here is to regularly check your privilege and ask questions in a private space if you sense you’re being treated unfairly by someone. If you go public with your grievances in hopes of mobilizing the mob, you may accidentally find yourself stepping into the role of the aggressor instead of the victim.

3) Social Media is not built to help you get engagement. It’s built to help itself make money off of you.

Repeat after me: Hits/likes are not a measurable indicator of talent or worth. There are ridiculously talented folks on Tumblr and elsewhere who, for whatever reason, haven’t had their viral moment, and it’s not their fault. Loads of factors come into play where things like likes, reblogs, and comments are concerned, among them being posting frequency, subject matter, the time of day, the day of the week, the week of the month, the month of the year, the current administration, the stock exchange, the concentration of middle class users, who just won the Superbowl, a madman trying to steal an election and undermine the democratic process, a PANDEMIC, do you get where I’m going with this?? lol

At the end of the day, my humble successes have been helped along by good luck, good timing, high profile signal boosters, and an absurd amount of work. (This is why I try to signal boost new work whenever I get a chance over at @vkelleyshares.) 

So while you cannot control Tumblr’s interface, trends at large, or your fellow users, here’s what you can do to ensure you give your work the best possible chance of exposure.

Have an image ready to go with your post. Tumblr is a visual platform (no matter what it says about being good for text). Not good with images? Set up a Canva.com account and get access to free graphic software with a gazillion templates to create whatever attractive image you want to attach to your post.

Keep the outward facing text brief and easy on the eyes. Too long and eyes will glaze over. Put excess text behind a “read more.”

You may think you’re being cute when you do this, but don’t put yourself down in your posts. (Don’t put yourself down in general, of course.) Doing so acts as engagement repellant. If you don’t believe in your work, no one else will.

Related: Be your best cheerleader. Confidence is a magnet, and if you don’t have it, go ahead and fake it until you start to convince yourself you are worth the buzz. So promote yourself! You have gifts that only you can impart. Use that knowledge to fuel everything you do from your art/fiction writing to your outreach with other content creators, and by golly, if someone’s done it already, acknowledge that contribution and then tell the world that this is YOUR unique take on it.

Treat your fellow fandom creators as human beings, not art/fiction/content boosting machines. I cannot count how many times I’ve had folks slide into my DMs with offers of friendship only to disappear once they realize I’m not available to draw a picture for their fic. It hurts because it’s manipulative and it makes me want to hole up and not signal boost anyone. Creators who truly support each other will not give off a transactional vibe. I want to help you reach more people, but not if that’s all I’m good for in your eyes. 

The long and short of it: Lead with compassion, do your best with the opportunities at  your disposal, and remember that fandom belongs to everyone in it. ❤️

What saves a fandom made of sensitive and vulnerable souls from imploding when it goes through growing pains is radical compassion from those who can offer it. Begin with the assumption that your fellow fandomers are not trying to harm you, and wade into the water knowing that your insight into the lives of your peers is limited by default and you may need to temper your words or actions accordingly. If you’re a content creator, save compassion for yourself as well, as there are indeed challenges to gaining an audience, and lack of engagement does not mean you lack talent or skill. Be your best advocate, and if you have the bandwidth to lift up a fellow creator and make a new friend, please, go ahead do it! 

And finally, fandom belongs to everyone, and no one has a monopoly on characters, tropes, or themes. Create and consume what you love (with respect for your more vulnerable peers), and bask in the variety, my friends!

That’s all I’ve got in my head at the moment, although I’m sure there’s more I’m forgetting. Thanks so much to @penpanoply for letting me use her art for this and to everyone else, hang in there and try not to judge each other too harshly. These are unprecedented times, and most of us are doing our best in circumstances that are pushing us to our limits. 

As always, if you have questions or want to sound off on anything, shoot me a message or an ask, or ping me on Discord. It might take me a second to respond (thanks, Covid) but I’ll get to it! Love, love, and more love to all.

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep 15 Pt 1: The Gang Gets Lost in India

Ah, back to Yugioh classic. Sort of. We’re going into the second filler arc before Bakura, which I have been told is kind of nonsense. And youknow what, from the first scene--this is the first scene by the way--yeah I can see the nonsense.

We got Yami cosplaying as the Chrysler building, we got Yugi saying WTFWTF, we got...this thing?

This thing tells us “Join my game, Yugi!” and then the demon just kinda bounces.

K, bye, I guess.

(read more under the cut)

Waking up from this nightmare, Yugi reveals that he has outgrown his good pajamas. Or maybe he just overused them like I did to my favorite pajamas during quarantine (which, not gonna lie, I hand sewed my favorite pajama pants back together 2 or 3 times like they were the Velveteen Rabbit. Quarantine pajamas and me were like best buds for a year there.)

RIP Yugi’s good pajamas.

It’s fine. I’m fine.

I can get used to Yugi in his normal ass old man pajamas without any cute stars on them. I can accept this. He’s getting older. So much older that for a second I thought he was learning Hebrew, by the looks of his books on his counter. I thought...wow, is Yugi actually attempting to learn a language spoken around the time of ancient Egyptians???

But uh...I went a searching and unfortunately that’s not Hebrew, and if that is a language, I don’t know what it is. Pretty sure it’s just random marks because this show has to be translated in so many languages. Man. For a second there that looked like really sneaky world building, but nah, Yugi is still kind of a dumbass who has yet to attend a solid year of school.

Also, I got to take in this mustard yellow as if I’ve seen it for the first time.

It has strong building blocks energy. It’s...so much yellow and it’s extremely the vibe of that one set of animal crossing decorations that I have because it’s a very common recipe, but, can’t figure out for the life of me how to fit into any room.

What am I supposed to do with these, Nintendo? Other than recreate Yugi’s Muto’s haunted game store/house?

Like I live in the Bay area and we have wild painted houses so you can see them through the fog (back when we...still had fog, RIP California) --but this is a little much. This is such strong Protagonist energy but as a house.

Also, I’ve don’t think I’ve brought this up before, but like...Yugi is loaded, right? Like he’s way too good and humble to ever say he’s loaded, and they sort of make it seem like he’s not (when compared to Seto Kaiba) but damn, this location of his real estate sure is something. That and Grandpa’s tiny shop seems to run on a constant deficit and his family just doesn’t care.

We flash back a bit to Gramps sneaking out, and Yugi is like “oh great, my only Father figure I ever talk about is getting a backpack together and just...leaving without any notice, huh? Without telling me you were going to go? Didn’t think that would maybe be a little off putting?“ and Gramps is like “Yes?”

Like Gramps nearly died going to an amusement park a few episodes back so I can see why Yugi is a little bit concerned.

Down the street at a little town lottery, Joey is getting further into gambling (I don’t know what those little street lotteries are called, it’s in a lot of anime--but kinda looks like mom lotteries for moms.)

I’m not sure why India is on Joey Wheeler’s bucket list, seems a little random, but he went to Pegasus’ country, after all and that’s barely even a country.

Joey going nuts on a lottery machine instead of going to school was pretty peak filler, so I’m not really minding this stuff so far.

And then, just to spook me, check this out:

I can’t believe they even let them back into a classroom. In my nerd school, if you missed one too many days, you were sent to the bad schools to be someone else’s problem. But in Yugi’s case...that either IS his school or...Yugi is failing International School, which is just a thing he’s allowed to do, because, as I said before, this kid has got to be loaded. Even Seto Kaiba was like “I’m not spending money on this school anymore. That outfit is like 50 bucks a jacket.”

Youknow, I have seen all the other characters knock on Tea’s choice of cute ass monsters for the last 5 seasons, and she has never once changed them out. She is holding onto this scary seraphim thing with the many wings like every child with their first Pidgey. She does not care.

Also how is this thing cute?

like the front of this orb has a face with hearts on it but like...it is kind of remarkable what Yugioh decides is cute. Magma golem: not cute. this thing? This thing that looks like it’s a chibi version of the last chapters of the bible and will sound the trumpets of the second coming? So cuuuuute.

Tristan used to be the Janitor/hall monitor/square archetype. Like hell he can walk around with that 00′s R+B soundtrack.

Joey appears in order to get us the hell out of school, and the art team retires this school background for the rest of what I assume is this entire series.

Goodbye school. Maybe you’ll come back with Bakura. Which would be weird, since rumor is that arc takes place in ancient Egypt.

On their walk home, Tea lets out in an inner monologue that no one could hear that after 5 straight seasons of his BS, she’s sick and tired of Pharaoh being the center of attention all the time and she needs a freakin break.

TBH, as she was thinking in her head like “Pharoah is just so freakin much” Yugi switched over to Pharaoh and was like “WHATS UP TEA, THINKING ABOUT ME??” and I thought for a split second maybe he read her mind with his Pharaoh powers.

And like...maybe he did? Seems like a thing he can just do but chooses not to tell anyone about. I mean would you tell anyone? I wouldn’t.

So, unlike Miho in Season Zero, who at least had the decency to try to take her Mother to Australia, Joey Wheeler has wisely decided that the 3 other ticket holders will not be the 3 other members of his immediate family. That would have been the most awkward trip between Serenity, his mother he hasn’t really spoken to in 7 years, and his absent father who was written out of the series for being a raging alcoholic. They would have not even made it to the plane.

Instead he’s gonna take the ghost in Yugi’s head and call that an adult (two tickets in one, really). It’s honestly not that bad of a plan, since his only other father figure, Grandpa, is MIA, and his only other, other father figure, Roland, charges like 300 dollars an hour and wants stock options and health insurance.

And honestly they should have taken Roland because he’s one of their best plane guys.

So they take the smallest little Amelia Earheart plane in the world, going from Japan to (checks map) India...which 2 times the distance this plane can go and it crashes...which is exactly what would happen if you took a teeny tiny plane over the Himalayan mountains without refueling that thing.

We call this a magical incident later in the episode, but this is just basic math.

So, fun fact, (and probably why I discuss planes so often on this blog) two of my Grandfathers were pilots (well, three, since my grandmother remarried another pilot), which sounds like a crazy coincidence until you recall that their generation was in WW2 and we just shoved children in planes for 20 years and called that normal.

Anyway, to save on travel costs, my engineer Grandfather built his own plane out of junkyard parts, which, as you can imagine, is a living nightmare, and it was held together by like duct tape and gasoline (which at one time used to be cheap). Tempted God every day that Howls Moving Castle touched the sky.

And while I only know it from photos since I wasn’t exactly born yet, it looked exactly like this plane. So looking at this, all I can think is...yeah...that’s what you get for flying to India in a tin can car. To this day I cannot trust any plane of this size.

So, they climb out of their wreckage virtually unscathed and into familiar Californian territory.

At least Joey thought about bringing a tent.

It’s interesting how our cast has become so accustomed to this that they’re not even all that shell shocked. It’s just another day in the life.

So next time we shall find out what India has in store for us. Or if we’re even in India...because again...feels a lot like this BG team doesn’t do any research into their landscapes and every place feels a whole lot of the same. But...at least they didn’t put any Arizonan mesas in India.

[hawkbucks]

Prompt: I always see you in the library and I think you’re really cute so I leave you little post it notes on your work whenever you go and get a book just to see you blush AU.

Note: Originally sent in by an anon on my now-deleted older blog (as is usual with these reposted ficlets jgkfld) 

It starts, like every good this-is-how-I-met-my-boyfriend story does, with Bucky dragging himself to the library after barely getting 2 hours of sleep last night.

With his trusty can of Red Bull and an ancient laptop that might as well have had dust spluttering out of its vents, he sits down in silent isolation from the other groups of students who take the library as a place to socialize and listen to music without earphones on as opposed to actually studying or writing their 3 essays that are due the next day. (He does, however, realize the hypocrisy in his way of thinking considering the obscene amount of time that he spends shooting the shit with Steve, Sam, and Nat in their group chat whilst his physics homework lies ignored.)

He takes a generous gulp of his Red Bull and turns on his laptop, ready to wait the 34 years it takes to boot up. The chair creaks disconcertingly underneath him as he leans back, but he’s had too many sleepless nights and too many mental breakdowns to care. If it snaps, it snaps. A trip to the hospital for a bashed-in head would at least give him an excuse to take time off from the hell that is university.

His laptop groans like it wants him to put it out of its misery, preferably with a BB pellet to the motherboard. He watches as the screen flashes white and the Baintronics logo pops up and swirls on the screen. A black loading bar appears under the logo. He waits, tapping his fingers on the table.

5%

30%

Somehow unloads to 19%

5–hold on. There’s movement in his peripheral vision. People sometimes come and intrude in his little corner when they’re tired of everyone else like he is, and it’s been long enough since the last person that he curiously looks up–

–and promptly lays his eyes on the cutest guy he’s ever seen. His black hair sits in a mess of soft-looking curls on his head, he’s wearing an oversized t-shirt with the Jurassic Park logo on it (Bucky thinks he’s in love already), and a pair of glasses perches on the bridge of his nose. Glasses. Bucky chokes on his spit and almost tips his chair over. It’s not creepy, he tells himself as his eyes follow the cute guy who ends up sitting two tables over and, thankfully, ends up sitting in a way so that Bucky can see his face. He watches as he take out a sleek laptop, a binder, and dumps out a bunch of pencils and pens. No, I’m just… admiring his looks. And it’s not like Steve doesn’t openly ogle Thor every time they pass each other… fuck, Barnes, get it together.

Bucky shakes his head and turns his attention back to his laptop screen.

As it turns out, concentrating on his stupid study guide for this stupid quiz that’s coming up is near impossible when the adorable (yeah, because cute just isn’t enough) guy keeps shifting in his seat and giving Bucky excuses to look over. Bucky’s trying to remember all these formulas but the only thing that he’s committing to memory is the way that the guy sticks the tip of his tongue out when he’s, presumably, deep in thought, or the way that he has to blow his bangs out of his face when they come down to cover his eyes. The study guide, Barnes! Bucky’s mind yells. You don’t even know this guy! Stop mooning over him!

He goes back to writing down practice problems in his notebook and gets maybe 4 problems in when he hears wood screeching against linoleum and realizes that Adorable Guy has gotten up, leaving behind pretty much everything. Bit trusting, isn’t he?

Then, a light bulb flickers on in Bucky’s head. He rummages around in his backpack for some post-it notes.

He pulls out a stack of post-its–the pastel blue ones that he was supposed to be using for his history class but never actually got around to doing so. They’ll do. Just wanted to say that you’re cute, he scratches out on one post-it. His stomach twists and turns as he peels it off and tiptoes over to Adorable Guy’s seat, looking around to make sure he isn’t seen. Before his mind can catch up and tell him that this is a terrible idea, he flattens the post-it on the binder and slinks back to his own table.

He doesn’t know when Adorable Guy will be back, but he works on making himself look as busy as possible. There aren’t many other people around, but there are other people, so hopefully the guy won’t assume it was Bucky if he looked like he was elbow-deep in physics. He taps his foot, impatient.

1 thunk of Bucky’s head against the table later, and Adorable Guy comes back with a veritable stack of books in his arms. Bucky watches over the top of his laptop as Adorable Guy lays the books down and looks at his binder in confusion, sliding into his seat.

He picks the note up, reads it, and a pretty pink starts to rise up on his cheeks and dust itself across the bridge of their nose. He look around with wide eyes, seeming to take in everyone surrounding him and calculating who’s most likely to have written him that note. “Excuse me.” He reaches out towards Bucky, the note in his hand and sounding as sweet as Bucky thought he would. “Did you see anyone leave this here?”

Bucky puts on his best confused face and shrugs. “No, sorry.” He tries to not stare into the other’s eyes, even if, as cliche as it is, he feels like he could get lost in them.

Adorable Guy nods. “It’s fine.” And he turns away, just like that, probably pondering on whether it’s worth it to bother others and solve this mystery.

Bucky goes back to looking busy, but continues to watch over his laptop as Adorable Guy smiles softly, folds the note, and puts it into their pencil bag.

Oh, Bucky’s so screwed.

If anyone notices that Bucky starts frequenting the library even more than he usually does in the following weeks, they don’t say anything. Well, okay, they don’t say anything, but Natasha does throw him questioning looks and Sam wiggles his eyebrows at him. He might just have a tiny, slight addiction to passing on some anonymous notes to Adorable Guy. It’s just small. Miniscule. It’s not like his day feels a tad bit worse whenever he sees that Adorable Guy aren’t in his seat, and it’s not like his day brightens up whenever he sees him blush after reading one of his newest notes.

Nuh-uh. None of that.

None of Bucky waiting impatiently for Adorable Guy to get up and get some new books before he writes, Your hair is looking especially good today, when Adorable Guy comes in with his hair looking extra fluffy, or before Bucky writes, You’re smart. Just keep studying, I know you can do it, when he notices that Adorable Guy is huffing and puffing and running his hands though his hair more than usual.

None of Bucky barely able to hold in his own smiles, feeling his heart flutter when Adorable Guy positively beams.

All of this and it’s without Bucky actually knowing the other’s name. He realizes that he should remedy that sooner rather than later, but for now… he supposes he can keep anonymous for a little while longer.

As if on cue, Adorable Guy gets out of his seat again. Part of Bucky wonders if Adorable Guy has grown as excited as he is about the notes; he’s been getting up more and more, and he comes back empty handed or with a bag of chips from the vending machine more often than with another stack of books.

Quickly, Bucky takes out another stack of post-its–this time in a light pink–and writes, I’m not sure if you’ll still be coming here after this quarter is over, but I just wanted to say that you really are beautiful. Thanks for hanging around. He signs it with a smiley face and begins that familiar walk to the other’s table.

“You!” Adorable Guy whispers as he pops out from behind a bookcase, looking entirely too delighted and proud of himself, when Bucky’s about to stick the note onto the table.

Bucky freezes like a deer caught in headlights. He’s maybe 0.5 seconds away from bolting and never stepping foot in that library ever again, even if it is the one that’s closest to his classes. “Me?”

“You’re the one that’s been leaving the notes–” Adorable Guy licks his lips, and Bucky wonders if he picked up on his nervousness– “I’m not angry or disappointed or anything, if you think that’s the case. Now that I think about it, it’s actually, uh, kind of obvious that it was you, but… I’ve been wondering for a while, and… yeah.”

“Yeah,” Bucky repeats. He moves to cram the note into his pocket.

“No!” Adorable Guy blurts out, which earns them quite a few dirty looks. He bows his head in apology towards the disgruntled students and turns back to Bucky. “Don’t. I wanna read it.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“I was sure about reading all of the notes you gave me before I knew who you were,” Adorable Guy retorts and sticks his hand out. “Now let me read it. Please?” He actually pouts, and that’s incredibly unfair.

Hesitantly, Bucky places the note in Adorable Guy’s outstretched hand (because he’s pretty sure if he tried to go against that pout, he’d get sent straight to hell immediately) and stuffs his own hands into his pockets. He can feel a thin layer of sweat start to form on his brow, which is ridiculous because usually he isn’t this nervous around people he finds attractive. Although, to be fair, none of them have ever looked like the guy in front of him.

Perhaps it’s because he’s a masochist, but he doesn’t look away and prevent himself from seeing Adorable Guy’s reaction. So, when his eyes light up and he smiles and that blush is back and Bucky realizes that he’s seeing this face to face, he smiles right back.

“God, you’re sweet, aren’t you?” Adorable Guy laughs, holding up the note. “I swear this just gave me cavities.”

Bucky rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry. I’ll pay the dentist’s bill.”

“You better,” Adorable Guy teases. “I”m gonna need a name so I know who to make it out to.” He steps just the slightest bit closer and Bucky tries not to choke on his own spit again.

���James,” Bucky replies, “but my friends call me Bucky.”

“I’m Tony.” Tony. Tony, Tony, Tony. It’s nice to be able to put a name to the face, and Bucky suspects he’s not gonna tire of saying Tony’s name any time soon.

“So, Tony…” Bucky looks at the table and quickly snatches up a notepad and a pencil. Tony doesn’t seem to mind, or he at least doesn’t protest. Bucky quickly writes something out, then turns it around and hands it to Tony.

Would you like to go out for lunch?

[artificialqueens]

You've Got the Love I Need (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Five times Denali and Rosé share their love with a love language, and one time they share it with words.

A/N: So excited to finally finish this! Writing has been so slow for me after finishing up the hunger games fic, but I finally got this done, and I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much to Writ for beta-ing! Please leave feedback if you'd like, I really do appreciate it and love hearing your thoughts!

Title from You've Got the Love by Florence + the Machine.

1. Acts of Service

“Denali, are you sure you don’t need help with that?” Rosé asks--or rather, she asks the pile of clothes Denali is hidden behind, as she carries an overflowing laundry basket.

“I got it.”

“I think I’d be more convinced if I could actually see you.” Rosé leaves the rice she’s stirring and helps Denali set the laundry basket down on the floor, clothes spilling over the sides.

Denali sighs, picking up a shirt and folding it before tossing it back down. “I should probably finish dinner before I do this. Ugh, and I still need to shower and revise that competition routine.” She rubs at her tired eyes, and Rosé’s heart aches. Denali’s had such a busy week at work that she’s gotten behind in just about everything else. Rosé offered to help her already, but Denali said she was fine, so used to doing things on her own that asking for help--let alone accepting it--wouldn’t even cross her mind.

“Hey.” Rosé gently rests her hands on Denali’s shoulders. “I’ll finish dinner while you take a shower. Then you can finish your work after.”

She sees the immediate protest in Denali’s eyes, the stubborn insistence that she can do everything on her own. And technically she can, but Rosé doesn’t want her to stress herself when she doesn’t have to. Rosé is more than happy to help, and she herds Denali to the bathroom before she can protest.

Rosé hums through the kitchen, organizing the fridge and loading Denali’s dishwasher, arranging all the food on the table as Denali emerges from the bathroom, hair still damp at the edges, her face soft and smile wide.

“This is so good,” Denali sighs around a mouthful of food. “Maybe I should let you cook more often.”

Rosé just laughs. She’s gotten better at cooking over the years, especially in the past few months she’s been dating Denali, eager to try new recipes that would make Denali happy.

They do the dishes side by side, bumping hips and shoulders, and retreat to the couch so Denali can work while a cooking show plays in the background.

Rosé reaches for the laundry basket and starts folding one of Denali’s towels.

“You don’t have to do that,” Denali says.

“I want to.”

“But it’s our date night, you shouldn’t have to--”

“I want to,” Rosé says again. “I like helping you out, taking care of you. I mean it.”

Denali smiles hesitantly, relaxing again as she returns to her work, and it fills Rosé with warmth. It’s special to help Denali like this, to take care of her and ease some of her stress, and it’s even more special because of how stubborn and independent Denali normally is. She’s not just accepting Rosé’s help, but her love as well. Love that Rosé wants to give, give in every folded towel and every dinner she makes, a love made of her care. Love that she hasn’t been able to put into words yet, thinking it was too early for those exact words, that she should wait a bit more to say them.

She finishes the laundry and when Denali finishes her work, they come together on the couch like two waves meeting. Denali snuggles against Rosé’s right side, resting her head on her shoulder, while Rosé slips an arm around her waist, holding her tight. Denali is half-asleep when the show ends, and Rosé carefully carries her to bed and tucks her in, leaving with a gentle kiss on her forehead.

—-

2. Words of Affirmation

Despite the freezing cold of the skating rink’s locker room, sweat beads on Denali’s forehead. This is the first routine she’s choreographed and coached for the eleven-and-twelve-year-old group she just took on in addition to the younger kids. Before that she stuck mostly with five- and six-year-olds, who were encouraged on the ice by their parents and thrilled by the sparkly costumes and idea of jumping in the air. It’s fun, and most of them stop formal lessons when it’s time to move into the next age group. But there’s rarely anyone who would continue to the eleven-twelve group if they weren’t serious about it, weren’t in it to compete and win. They’ll be competing with Denali as the coach now, with Denali to blame if something goes wrong.

What if something does go wrong? What if she didn’t teach them well enough? What if she’s not even a good teacher at all, and all the things she did teach them are wrong? What if someone gets hurt because of her? What if--

“I don’t know what it is about the snack bar here, but their hot chocolate is so good--Denali, what’s wrong?”

Denali’s head snaps up to see Rosé in the locker room, two Styrofoam cups of hot chocolate in her hands. She sets them on a bench and comes to Denali’s side, eyes filled with worry.

“Are you nervous about the routine?” Rosé asks.

Denali nods shakily, drawing in a breath. “It’s…bigger than I’m used to. With the little kids, it’s a huge deal if they stand up the whole time. But these kids really want to be great, and don’t even get me started on the parents. I’m just worried I didn’t teach them well enough, that I’m a bad coach.”

It’s a weight off her chest, and it leaves her slumping in relief, leaning into the hands Rosé places on her arms.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Rosé says gently. “I was a wreck when I started teaching and we had our first choir concert. But you’re an amazing coach. I know you’ve taught those kids everything they need to know. I believe in you, Denali, and I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. Those kids are lucky to have you as their coach. And if any of their parents give you trouble, they’ll have to go through me first,” Rosé says fiercely, squeezing Denali’s arms.

Denali wipes away a tear, Rosé’s words everything she needed to hear. Denali’s no stranger to anxiety, to the doubts and worries swirling around her head. But to have Rosé, to have those words of trust and support, is sometimes exactly what she needs to quiet them down. Rosé believes in her, and Denali can believe in herself too.

“You’re right,” Denali says quietly. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Rosé nods, handing Denali one of the cups. “Let’s have some hot chocolate and go out there, okay?”

Denali nods, the drink warming her just as much as Rosé’s hand in hers as they head out.

—-

3. Quality Time

Ever since Rosé was little, she’s loved blanket forts. It started out as something her parents would do to make movie nights more special, but it quickly became something she asked for almost every weekend, or whenever she was upset. Something about curling up on the living room rug with blankets all around her made her feel safe, made movies even better and soothed any bad days she had at school.

The first time Rosé sheepishly suggested they watch a movie inside one, she hadn’t expected Denali to leap to her feet and run around the place looking for blankets and pillows. Denali had been in some nature scout troop when she was a kid--Rosé squealed at the picture of tiny Denali, teeth missing from her wide smile, wearing a vest and sash covered in patches--and knew how to pitch a tent, a skill she brought to their blanket fort. She used kitchen chairs and the couch for extra support, a canopy of cotton and flannel covering the living room. It stood strong and sturdy while they were nestled safely inside, and it became a movie night tradition.

“How’s the popcorn coming?” Denali asks.

“Almost done.” Rosé shakes the pot as the kernels pop while Denali tends to the hot chocolate, pouring it into two mugs--the one with little cartoon dogs Rosé bought so Denali could have her own special mug here, and the one with pink music notes Denali got Rosé as a just-because gift.

Rosé dumps the popcorn in a big bowl and Denali drops fistfuls of marshmallows into the mugs, bringing it all to the living room and sliding under the blanket fort.

The best part about the fort is that it’s just them inside. They leave their phones on the couch, and there’s no work, no stress, no distractions. Just them together, their attention fully devoted to each other. A time to simply be together with nothing in the way.

Rosé starts Stardust, nestling into the long body pillow perfect for fort nights, letting Denali snuggle up next to her. Rosé takes in her long eyelashes, her warm eyes, her soft lips. She takes it all in, this time to just be with Denali.

It would be a good time to tell Denali she loves her, but it’s so quiet, so peaceful, just their breathing and the movie, that Rosé doesn’t want to disturb the moment. Besides, being with Denali like this, wiping melted marshmallow off her nose, is a love more than words can describe.

—

4. Physical Touch

Denali has always loved touch. Her parents loved her, she never doubted that, but they weren’t ones for physical affection. So Denali treasured every hug or hand on a shoulder she got from them, and sought out touches wherever she could get them. Her skating coach’s arms around her in a hug, congratulating her on her routine. A friend’s legs thrown over hers while they lay in the sunny backyard. Holding hands and interlocking fingers with her first boyfriend in high school, her first girlfriend in college.

She always sought and gave touches in her relationships. An arm around their waist, a hand on their back, her head on their shoulder. Something to let them know she was there, to share her love with them. And every touch she got back let her know they were there, filled her with their love too.

Rosé had told Denali early on that she’s asexual, and it didn’t change the way Denali feels about her, didn’t make her want to stop dating Rosé, just like Denali telling Rosé she’s bi didn’t change things either. If anything, it brought them closer, brought another level of trust between them.

But Denali also wanted to make sure her touches were okay, so they talked about what Rosé is comfortable with, what her boundaries are. Rosé gets a little uncomfortable with hands on her thighs, but she loves pretty much all other touches, loves them just as much as Denali. Hand-holding, bumping into each other while they cook, cuddling while they watch movies—Denali loves it all, and loves receiving it from Rosé especially, being filled with her love. Denali’s favorite is when Rosé wraps her arms around her from behind, resting her chin on Denali’s shoulder. Rosé does it now, and Denali melts into the touch. Rosé’s been extra clingy tonight, and Denali knows it’s because she’s had a stressful week, busy with concert rehearsals for her music classes.

“Cuddles tonight?” Denali asks. The touch will comfort Rosé, but each touch will comfort Denali too, letting her share her love and feel close to Rosé.

“Please,” Rosé sighs, guiding her to the couch with her arms still around Denali’s waist. She lays on her back and pulls Denali on top of her, their touches not stopping for a moment. “This week has been so long. I swear I hear those choir songs in my sleep.”

Denali snorts, resting her head on Rosé’s chest and stroking her arm. Her touches are gentle yet grounding, soothing the both of them, giving and receiving love the best way she knows how. She continues the touches as Rosé talks, talks about how much her students have improved, how excited they are. She’s rubbing gentle circles on Rosé’s shoulder as her words slow down and her eyes drift closed.

I love you, Denali thinks. They haven’t said it yet, though it’s not for a lack of the feeling. More that they feel it so much, both in themselves and from each other, that they’ve been hesitant to turn it to words, waiting for an opportunity that would be worthy of such a confession.

Denali could just say it now. She doesn’t need a special occasion to say it, even if it’s the first time. But Rosé has been still for the past few minutes, so she’s at least half-asleep, if not all the way there. Denali can wait. She strokes Rosé’s hair, and when Rosé sighs in content, Denali thinks she got the message anyway.

—-

5. Receiving Gifts

“Rosieeeee.”

Rosé looks up as Denali enters the apartment singing her name.

“What is it?”

“I got a present for you.” Denali has that almost-smug smile on her face, the one she always gets when has something she knows Rosé will love.

And Rosé finds a similar smile of excitement crossing her own face, eagerly accepting the bag Denali gives her. It’s not that Rosé has come to expect Denali to bring her something all the time. It’s not that she even wants Denali to bring something all the time, or that she sees her as nothing but a gift-bringer. It’s that Denali’s gifts, which might be tiny little things to anyone else, make Rosé feel loved. Make her feel known. No matter what Denali brings, Rosé loves it. Sometimes it’s something sweet, a chocolate bar with ruby chocolate purchased because it’s Rosé’s favorite color, shared between them while watching a movie. Sometimes it’s just silly, like the mini unicorn erasers Rosé keeps in a little bowl by her desk. They’re all treasured by Rosé, because Denali saw even the tiniest thing in a store somewhere and instantly thought of her, and it makes Rosé marvel at Denali’s love every time.

It’s like when her parents would surprise her with a new book that became a favorite, or with a new pack of crayons that she used to fill up her coloring books. The purest feeling of excitement, of trust and safety and love.

“Come on, open it!”

As much as she loves to receive the gifts, to receive Denali’s love, it’s equally clear how much Denali loves to give it. She barely makes it five seconds before giving it to Rosé, watching her open it with that proud grin on her face like a parent watching their kid on Christmas morning.

That grin is on full display now, and Rosé smiles too as she pulls the top off a box, one you might use for earrings or a necklace. Inside the box is a beautiful rose keychain, soft pink with gold sparkles. But the keychain is attached to something--to a key, and Rosé looks up in confusion.

Denali looks at her. “I figured it was about time you had a key to my place. Just in case, you know?”

Rosé grins. “You’re gonna regret this, Denali. I’ll sneak in your room at six am and give you a singing wake-up call. You’re not getting rid of me now,” she teases, but she squeezes Denali’s hand to show how much it means to her.

“I’d never want to get rid of you,” Denali says. “Unless you really do show up at six, then I’m taking that key back and burning it.”

They laugh together, and Rosé already plans on going there next week to surprise Denali.

---

+1

“Are you ready?” Rosé asks.

“Oh, I’m ready,” Denali says confidently, rubbing her hands together. “The real question is whether this place is ready for me.”

She strides into the boardwalk arcade, relishing in the bright neon lights and the hiss of arcade games spitting out paper tickets. Her parents used to drag her out of here as a kid, cutting short her quest to earn enough tickets for one of the big prizes, not just the bouncy ball or eraser you got for a mere 300 tickets. But today, it’s just her and Rosé, and they’ve already gone on the boardwalk rides and stuffed themselves with funnel cake, and now they can stay here as long as they want, clear the place out of tickets and prizes.

Denali hits up the skee-ball racks first, her and Rosé giggling next to each other as their balls fly up the ramps, giving into their competitive sides just a little as they aim for the 100-point slots in the top.

“Your aim could use a little work,” Rosé teases.

“So could your form,” Denali says. “Let me take you to the rink some time, I’ll help with that.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” It’ll be another adventure, another night to enjoy, and Denali looks at Rosé, at her beautiful smile that still makes Denali’s heart flutter, and knows there’ll be no shortage of adventures, of nights like this.

She grabs Rosé’s hand and they race across the sticky floor, taking on pinball and balloon darts and Pac-Man, joking and laughing the whole time. At the end of the night, tickets spill out of their hands like tentacles, and Denali looks up at the row of prizes behind the main desk. She turns to Rosé and nods, and they pass out their tickets to the kids scattered through the arcade.

“Ice cream?” Denali asks. “All that winning made me hungry.”

Rosé snorts, but happily leads her to the ice cream stand. The stars are just starting to come out, little twinkles that catch Rosé’s hair, and Denali looks at her and says it.

“I love you.” She doesn’t need a special occasion for it, doesn’t need a worthy moment. Her love is something she can share as often as she wants, in words and in actions.

Rosé’s eyes widen and she breaks into a huge smile, pulling Denali close and kissing her cheek.

“I love you too.”

[goodnightallwhites]

Daugherty's Daughter By BlackingPacking

Daugherty's Daughter 

By BlackingPacking 

Submitted: November 30, 2019 Updated: November 30, 2019 

Slutty white wife and mother, Charlotte Daugherty, cuckolds her husband Dan. He takes out his impotent sexual frustration on their daughter, who soon too becomes a slut for BBC 

Contains: NTR/Cuckolding, Interracial (Blacked/BBC), father-daughter incest, SPH, dubcon, very extreme 

Provided by Hentai Foundry.  

Chapter 1 - Cuckold's Frustrations 2 

Chapter 2 - Charlotte Gets What She Wants 11 

1 - Cuckold's Frustrations 

Dan Daugherty always got his wife everything she wanted. He worked for a large finance company, so he could definitely afford it. He and said wife, Charlotte, lived comfortably in their two story house with their beautiful young daughter, Phoebe. Charlotte was now nearing 40, the decade she often teased her scrawny, brown-haired husband, who was a few years older than her, for being. Still, she kept up with herself. She hadn’t worked for well over a decade, since Phoebe was born, and always spent her days at spas, salons, or get-togethers with her girlfriends. Sometimes for days on end. Dan payed for it all, of course. He was used to paying for women. 

It wasn’t only his wife. In his company, Dan was a middle ranking employee, with enough power to manage promotions that could get people higher, but he was never good enough at his job to manage much more. This meant that sometimes, timid little Dan got over his head, socially. 

This came in the form of a hot blonde girl with big dreams, big tits, a big ass, and a tiny waist. She had straight, strawberry blonde hair, and a little nametag saying Kara on her sweater. She’d work with Dan and saw how, whenever he had to talk to his wife, he never looked at ease. She took advantage of this, and eventually got him to let her suck him off. 

Under his desk, Kara put on her reddest lipstick she had on her fat, dick-sucking lips. Excited, she pulled down his pants to see... to see... 

Well, it sure was a penis. A short, needle-like one at that, nestled in some curly brown hair on his crotch, but none on his body or legs. Still, Kara wanted that raise. So she sucked him in between her lips, and not very far past, until he came in about a minute and a half. 

“What an adorable little penis,” she told him, “I’m sure your wife doesn’t give that cute dick of yours the attention it deserves. Only I see how great it is.” She’s tell him things like that all the time, making him think she was in love, until she got promoted and forgot all about him. Now Kara was his boss, and made sure to always strut in her office skirt around him. She pinched his ass and called him ‘pin dick’ at the coffee machine. She was dating some black male model now, which she never failed to flaunt. “Ever hear of BBC?” She’d ask the young office girls like she was a fucking missionary. She knew she hated missionary. “The rumors are true,” she said. He’d heard one of the office girls got a tramp stamp larger than her hand about wanting to fuck black guys. He hated Kara now, but at least he was happy with his wife. 

One weekend though, Charlotte left the house on friday and didn’t respond to her husband 

until she strutted through the front door in a new white dress with gold jewelry and her blonde hair curled beautifully. In her cream-white stilettos she was at least Dan’s height, and he wasn’t physically imposing at all either way. Besides, her little hubby couldn’t stop staring at how her bouncy tits and impossibly sexy ass looked in that dress. How could he deny her. 

The next weekend, the same thing happened. That sunday evening she returned, she wore a sky blue dress, much shorter this time, and even bigger gold jewelry. It was so short that when she walked up the stairs, he could see right between her legs and her asscrack. He stared at them like a pervy little boy. 

When he tried to fuck her that night, she said she was too tired. Still, he hadn’t got to stick Danny Jr. inside any part of Charlotte since his birthday. He had to excuse himself to the bathroom, sitting his unremarkable body on the toilet and jerking his 4 inch dick off to his own wife a few meters away until he came into the bowl. 

She promised him she’d call the next weekend. They spoke exactly once, during her lunch on Sunday, when she said she’d be coming home. 

That night, in bed, she said she wasn’t horny again. He tried to touch her pussy, but she easily swatted away his thin-wristed arms. Still, he could’ve sworn he felt her wetness. That’s when he began to think she was cheating on him. 

He wasn’t willing to confront her, of course. He hoped it was something else. That Wednesday, Charlotte brought home a shopping bag. In it was a sex toy. She said she wanted to ‘spice up’ the bedroom. That meant that she got to fuck herself with that 8 inch blue silicone bullet, while he wrapped one small hand around his cock and jerked off on his half of the bed. He thought about her cheating on him with a guy that big. A guy twice his size. Unlike last week, he came buckets. 

She felt generous then, and actually let him fuck her on Thursday. She spread her full, curvy legs for him. Her lace panties dangled from one ankle. Thrilled at finally being allowed to have sex with his own wife, he grabbed onto her, buried his face in her big, soft jugs, and fucked her as hard as he could. It lasted all of two minutes. The rest of the night, she fucked herself with the dildo again. Friday was the same. She went out, bought some new makeup, ate at some overpriced hippie cafe, and fucked herself with her new dildo that night as her hubby curled up beside her. 

Charlotte was cheating on him, of course. She met up with a black young entrepreneur, Purcell, who owned one of the African fusion restaurants she frequented. He always talked about African culture, revitalizing black youth. He had posters of Black Panther and Creed on his loft bedroom walls. Charlotte often saw them when she was riding his 12+ inch monster of a dick. She couldn’t see them so well when her back was pushed into the mattress as he drilled her deep. She always squirted on those perfect abs of his. He made her a screamer. 

The loudest she screamed though was when he put it in her asshole. For the first few times, on her nights out before that first weekend, it would hurt when he’d simply fuck her pussy. He was 3 times bigger than the dick she was used to having, after all. But soon she got stretched out and used to it. A few weekends in, that was why she bought the dildo. Dan would definitely know something was up if he tried to fuck her before. She was being generous by getting a dildo halfway between the two men in her life’s size. When Dan felt stretching, he assumed it was the toy. 

Her birthday was coming up though. The big 4 0. Purcell had promised his busty, leggy girlfriend the time of her life that weekend. But Dan also wanted to give her a real treat too. Charlotte has to do the right thing. The Friday before her birthday, she was outside Purcell’s apartment complex around 6pm right when Dan was getting home from work. She wore jean hot pants and a tight crop top t-shirt that said ‘you aren’t big enough for these.’ What a total slut. She called her husband. 

“Hey Dan, it’s Lotte,” she said boredly as he picked up. 

“Oh- um, hey baby, how’s it going? Gonna be home soon?” 

“About that, honey...” she trailed off. 

“What? Hey, I know things have been a little rough between us, but-“ 

“What? I think we haven’t been happier in years, Danny.” 

“Oh-“ he paused. 

“Do you think I’m cheating on you?” She said curtly. 

“I- buh- duh- what? No, of course I don’t think you’re cheating on me. Why would I think that. I mean, sure... my mind wandered a little wondering why you’ve been spending weekends away, but-“ he didn’t finish his thought, just running his thin fingers through his pale brown side-parted hair. God, he was dense. 

“I have been." 

“I trust you enough tha- wait, what?!” He jumped 

“I’ve been cheating on you for a month and a half now. I love you, and I want the best for our daughter, but- I also met this guy. His names Purcell, and he’s black, and he owns a restaurant, and he’s huge- well, I already said he’s black,” she giggled. Dan was speechless. “But the point is... I love him too, and I really want his birthday gift for me. Not 

that I don’t want yours but... his dick makes me feel better than your little one ever has. You just can’t make me cum, you haven’t once since college... but I promise things’ll be as wonderful as they once were if you let me do this. And I know about Kara.” She paused for effect, “so- can I?” 

“I-I-I-“ he breathed, unable to make a sound. “Yes babe, of course.” He muttered. His default response when his wife asked for something. 

“Great! Love you hun, I’ll send you pics!” She hung up just like that. 

Dan wanted to throw a hissy fit. How could he be so weak willed? How could he let his wife walk right over him like that? How long had she known about Kara? Had that been why she had to leave him- cuckold him- with a black guy? He ran into his walk in closet, expecting to cry but instead jerking off. 

He shot his load onto the carpet, and kept stroking his little dick, imagining a huge black dick pile driving his wife’s pussy. He remembered her talking about her parties in high school, how she’d always let guys fuck her before she mellowed out her senior year. Was she like this even then? How many guys in her hometown were black? 

Suddenly, Phoebe walked in, wearing short shorts and a teal tank top. “Yeah, I don’t think dad’s home. Better that way, since my door doesn’t lock, and the water’s shut off to the other upstairs bathroom.” She was on the phone. “No, I don’t wanna do it downstairs! It’s.. weird if I do it in the guest bathroom. Especially if I’m thinking about my dad!” 

What was she talking about? “You’re lucky. You got to finger yourself to your dad with your door locked.” Fingering?! “You’ve done it downstairs- wait, but I always complain that Uncle Bryce’s downstairs didn’t lock. You fucking perv!” 

Bryce... that was Charlotte's brother! You knew that Phoebe was close to her cousin Martha, but was that who was on the phone? We’re they talking about- fingering, though? And what was that about dads... 

“Yeah, talk later Martha,” that confirmed it, “have fun flicking your bean in the guest toilet to your own fuckin dad like some weirdo. I’m gonna masturbate using my dads soap and shower head, like a normal girl.” He totally ignored how much trouble he should be putting his daughter in. Dan’s little dick was hard. “Oh shut up, you jilled off to your dad first. Well I think MY dad’s hotter. Whatever, Martha. Bye, have fun!” She hung up and turned the shower on. Dan, behind her, stepped out of the closet onto the marble tiled floor of their expensive bathroom. 

“Wha- DAD?!?” Phoebe jumped, terrified as she realized what she’d been caught saying. She already had her shirt and bra off, revealing her flat, underdeveloped tits. She didn’t look 

like she would inherit her mother’s tits or ass. She looked like a girl who wasn’t old enough to be masturbating, or shouldn’t be. Her height didn’t help either. 

“D-dad,” she spoke with fear and embarrassment. He reached out and turned off the loud shower. “I-I- this-“ 

“What were you saying about me?” Asked Dan. He was ecstatic- he lost his wife, but he’d been gifted his own daughter! Phoebe was often neglected. Charlotte, that materialist bitch, preceded to hire the maid to care for her daughter. But now, Dan has a chance to prove himself as the real patriarch of this family, not some- some- some nigger who Charlotte’s big tits here were wrapped around right now... 

The thought made Dan seethe. But now, he could take out all his impotent rage on his whorish wifes own daughter. Her tiny frame would easily be overwhelmed by even his small cock. It might not have even been incest. Phoebe probably wasn’t even his. He was going to make her his though, and Charlotte would regret messing with him. 

Finally, she answered. “I- I’m turned on by you, dad... when I see mom kiss you and when you tap her ass... I wanted that too and... I’ve been thinking about it for a while... I’ve really wanted you to fuck me,” she looked up at him, suddenly terrified again, “-a-as a fantasy though! Not as an actual thing I was planning on, I swear, daddy!” 

“Oh, but,” he growled, trying and failing to sound aggressive, “I want you too,” he grabbed her thin waist and pulled her close, making her jump a little. Her flat chest barely shook. 

She looked up at him with green, pretty eyes. His were hazel. He blamed his stupid slut wife. 

“Really?” Asked Phoebe, reaching out to touch his nonexistent pectoral. 

“Yes, Phoebe baby. Your mom and I..” he grit his teeth.. “aren’t doing too well. I think I need you to make me feel better. Can you do that?” He took his hand, walking backwards towards his room. 

Daddy’s little girl, Phoebe Daugherty nodded. “Y-yes daddy. I’ll make you feel good. I’ve never done anything with a boy but I’ve seen porn. I’ll try my best.” 

“Good girl,” he said, feeling more dominant than he ever did with Charlotte. He walked out onto the carpet of the master bedroom and sat down on the large chair on the left of the bathroom doorway. Dan pushed the footrest out of the way and had his daughter kneel there instead. His rage at his own impotence and his hatred for how Charlotte was cuckolding him right now made him forget that this was even his baby girl. 

Charlotte, as Dan undid his pants again, was miles away in the stylish, urbane, gray loft 

owned by Purcell. She strutted in happily, swaying her fat white ass in the shorts that barely covered it. Purcell was on the couch in front of a table of African artifacts. He got up and welcomed her with a deep, tonguey kiss and a slap on the ass. 

“Wanna give me my present now, babe?” She breathed hotly into his wide lips. He smiled and led her into his room, where she was shocked by the presence of three more black guys. Like him, they were all over 6 feet tall and muscular. They all wore some variation of a t short and running shorts that did nothing to hide their bulges, just like Charlotte’s tiny t-shirt did nothing to hide her cleavage, or her under boob, or her hard nipples. 

“Oh- oh, my!” Charlotte’s cock-needy lips and pretty blue eyes went wide seeing the display. While her friends had introduced her to BBC porn a full year ago, she had only ever actually slept with Purcell. Now she was getting 3 new hung black guys. 

“You like my friends babe?” He asked. She nodded, pulling up her red bikini bottoms she wore under her shorts. “Glad to hear,” she bit her lip. She was getting wet just by hearing him speak. “Ever had guys run train on you?” 

“I-“ she had been in a gangbang once, as a senior in high school. Those boys were all white though, and she wasn’t the only girl there. “No,” she decided that a half dozen white guys humping her legs until their little pink dicks turned purple and shot a load like she was a Barbie doll they got to undress didn’t count. “I’ve never. But I’d love too.” 

“Hear that, boys?” Purcell slapped Charlotte on her as. Charlotte took it with a smile. They smiled back as they took off their shirts, showing the kinds of muscles that were the reason Dan never took her to the beach. She took off her wedding ring and fell into their big, strong arms, letting them kiss her and grope her. She had to look straight up to make out with the tallest one, while the one made out with her neck and another literally tore her shirt off of the swinging spheres of her tits. She liked that shitt. But she liked how they pressed their huge bulges into her sides much more. 

Meanwhile, Dan was struggling to overpower his own tiny daughter, desperate to fuck her silly. His destroyed ego demanded that Phoebe fuck him, and, although she was planning to masturbate to that very thought before he grabbed her, she was resisting. 

“Daddy- unf~ Daddy!” she pushed his arm off her nonexistent tit, while his other one was down his pants, grabbing at his dick. “This is wrong! We shouldn’t do this!” she insisted 

“Phoebe! Phoebe, please!” He yelled. He had never yelled at his daughter. His hair and eyes made him look like a mess. “D-don’t you wanna make me feel good?” 

Phoebe did want to make her dad feel good... and cum... but she wasn’t sure. Sure, he was deciding for her basically, but he never acted like this around her. He was always very 

passive, never making her do anything. Now... this? With the drip of her pussy in those short shorts she was this close to taking off, she knew she wanted it too. 

“Okay Daddy...” she breathed, hoping to not make him angry, “I’ll make you feel good.” 

“Good girl,” breathed Dan. Instead of taking his dick out though, he felt up her chest again. She was still flat as a board, but whenever he thought of his ideal tit size, all he could think of was how Charlotte probably had a huge black rod between hers. She did. He just kept massaging his daughter. Those soft, sensitive, unmanly hands of his felt her sides, her hips, and, when he bent down so far that his face was in her neck, he felt the doughy softness of her asscheeks. She turned crimson. 

He breathed heavily, overcome with perverse lust. “D-daddy’s gonna bring out his cock now, sweetie,” he told her. She simply sat on her knees with her hands on her silky thighs. He fumbled on his pant’s buttons, desperately wanting them out. Eventually he got it, and in one swift movement, he pulled his pants down to his ankles. 

Phoebe, the incestous little slut, was face-to face with her father’s own tiny, white cock. Her eyes widened, and her pussy immediately dried up. 

“W-what is that?” she asked him. 

“My dick,” said Dan, sounding nothing like her father, even though she barely knew her father. He pushed the skinny thing towards her, “Suck it.” 

“B-but why is it so small?” Phoebe really wanted to pleasure her dad, to suck him off until he shot a huge load in her face. But... this? How could she love a cock that was barely larger, in any way, than her finger? If she made a fist, it was more than twice the size of his balls. 

To her shock, the then hit her face. Not hard, he wasn’t man enough to do that. But still, a slap was a slap. 

“What did you say?” he asked her, suddenly only seeing her mother in the beautiful young girl. 

“Y-your penis isn’t that big, daddy- I-I’ve seen much bigger in porn, I’m sorry-” 

He raised his hand again, “You’ve been watching porn?!” He knew that when his wife began masturbating by herself, it was all over for him. He couldn’t believe the same was happening to his daughter. 

“N-no! I- I meant good! Your dick is sooo good, daddy! Look-” almost crying, she began to suck it. It tasted strange- plain, not at all sexy. Once, she sucked her own virgin pussy juices, 

and that got her hotter than ever before. This did one of that, even when his precum started leaking, it just tasted like water. She sucked and sucked as well as she could. Phoebe had no idea how to suck a dick, but, at the very least, her dad’s was so small that it fit right in between her little lips. He didn’t have to worry about scraping on her teeth or choking her. 

She wrapped her tongue around the quivering little white pin she desperately tried to satisfy. Dan felt great by this. He leaned his head back, and finally relaxed, as if it wasn’t clear to everyone now that he was just a pathetic, creepy white guy. His own daughter wiggled her tongue around his pencil shaft. He wasn’t even into incest, but, the quickshot that he was, once her saliva-coated tongue finsihed licking the tip of his dick inside her mouth, he started cumming. 

His orgasm was drawn out, with thin ropes of cum spraying into his daughter’s mouth slowly. It had no power or force, nothing sexy at all. She would never masturbate to her dad ever again. Instead, she just spit his cum out on his hairless thigh. 

“You’re supposed to swallow!” he yelled. Not that Charlotte had ever swallowed his cum, since he usually popped his teeny top before he even shoved it in her mouth. Phoebe just looked grossed out. His dick, as much as she wanted to love it, was now an ugly, throbbing purple. It looked like it would pop, and it wasn’t big enough to look like it should be throbbing. She said nothing 

Back in the loft, Charlotte was getting absolutely rammed. She was on the red futon, getting to experience how it really felt for BBC to run train on her. A black guy was under her, slamming his dick deep in her babymaker with his balls slapping her taint. Two more were in front of her, making her stretch her cheeks out like a chipmunk to suck both of them off at once. She was terrified of what would happen when their monster dicks, big enough to dwarf rulers, would blast their cum in her gullet. It felt so good. 

Best of all, on top of her, with hands on her shoulders and arms on the armrest, Purcell was fucking her ass, raw. No matter what the others did to her, Purcell had stayed in her asshole the entire gangbang. His 40th birthday present was a 12 and a half inches (Charlotte liked to say 13) deep of rough anal sex. His cum had been churning deep in her guts, and his thrusts now had been picking it up and making it froth out like runny butter. She felt her whole asscrack, taint, and pussy feel covered in melted fluids. If it ever got too messy, she’d just lick it up herself. She loved it. 

Her husband, meanwhile, had grabbed their little daughter and bent her over the bed, facedown, ass up, despite her protests. Without even seeing his wife lover fuck her with his massive dark fuckmeat, BBC had already totally mindbroken the timid white man. Here he was, forcing his crying daughter’s face into his and his wife’s bed’s comfoters. He spread her legs apart, staring at her beautiful, but dry pussy. 

With his pinkish red dick standing as hard as a needle, he lowered his skinny torso into her slim thighs, taking his daughter for himself. He molested her with whiny grunts, the kind that Charlotte was absolutely done with. Frustration was something that Dan had been faced with all his life, and now he was letting it all out on Phoebe. The frustration he had since the first time he first found a porno mag with huge dicks when he was fourteen, all the girls he jerked off too but wouldn’t date him, to all the porn he watched when internet porn first got big in college, even when he was dating Charlotte. All of it, all directed in his pathetic thrusts into the tiny girl. 

As he raped his virgin daughter, she felt every twitch of his dick like only a girl her size could. Even though it felt far bigger in her than her mother would’ve felt it, she didn’t enjoy it one bit. He joylessly came in her pussy, shooting his white load into her just deep enough so that its small contents couldn’t even drip out of her. He told her to get out of his room, and he slept. 

Meanwhile, Purcell had finally taken his painfully hard cock, having cum in her anus 5 or 6 times, out from between her thick asscheeks, letting her suck the soaking member clean. He and his friends gathered around Charlotte as she kneeled on the floor. They jerked off and let her jerk them off and suck them off until she looked like a bukkakke porn star. Once they all came, she was exhausted, but they wanted more. They tossed her back on the futon and had their way with her. 

Purcell came deep in her pussy enough times with enough force to not only make her squirt hotly, but to get her pregnant too. 

She would be furious with Dan when she got home, but she didn’t know that yet. Even her daughter hated Dan's small, perverted white cock more than anything. For now though, Charlotte was blissfully having the best fucking sex of her entire life. 

To be continued... 

2 - Charlotte Gets What She Wants 

“You did WHAT to her?!” screamed Charlotte. Her big slutty tits swung with every word. 

Dan, emasculates and afraid, shrunk down onto the cushions of the light gray, modern style couch. On the other side of the coffee table, Phoebe was curled up. She looked at her father with nothing but hatred. 

“YOU SICK FUCKING FUCK,” Charlotte kept screaming, “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOUR STUPID PUSSY ASS DO TO OUR DAUGHTER? What the FUCK did you do?” 

“I-I-“ he backed up, scared of his adulterous wife. Dan was in a t-shirt and boxer underwear, while Charlotte was in a pink sundress, and Phoebe was in a tank top and volleyball shorts. 

“You AGREED I was going to have a FUCKING MARVELOUS weekend- and it’s all ruined this morning by a call from my FUCKING DAUGHTER about her IMPOTENT BITCH OF A DAD FUCKING RAPING HER WITH HIS STUPID TINY COCK! Am I WRONG?” She slammed her fist against the couch with every word. 

Dan was, as always, too wimpy to disagree. 

“Mom- wha- what’s going on?” Asked Phoebe. 

Charlotte turned to her beloved white daughter. She walked over and knelt in front of her, saying, “Oh, sweetie, it’s mommy’s business. Grown up stuff, nothing you’d understand.” 

“Mom,” said the girl who, even though she was babies, was still old enough to regularly watch porn and masturbate her smooth little cunt. 

“What? Yes, baby, mommy’s here,” Charlotte calmed her down, “mommy’s just, um, got a new boyfriend that’s all. And sometimes mommy goes and sees him. That’s okay, right?” 

“Mom,” grumbled Phoebe, “I’m not fucking 6. I know you cheated on him!” 

Charlotte looked back. She paused. “Alright, yes- mommy cheated on daddy. I’m a fucking whore, a total fucking SLUT cockwhore bitch. But you saw him! You saw that your dad is a sick, perverted, useless, weird piece of trash, right?” 

Phoebe nodded. “He’s so gross! I’ll never think the same way of him again! I mean, I guess it’s the same for you, mom, but at least you’ve got a reason. I... I’d wanna get f-fucked by a real man too! And he’s... hes just-” 

“A little fucking L O S E R?” her mom volunteered. Phoebe nodded along. 

“H-hey,” stuttered Dan. The scrawny white man crawled up from his fetal position, “S-she was on the phone, talking about sexual things with her cousin! About having sex with me and your brother! A-and she watches porn too!” 

“Didn’t I tell you to SHUT THE FUCK UP!?” screeched Charlotte. Her cuck hubby was soon put in his place. “So what? She’s young and stupid. We were too, remember? The difference is, when I had kinky fantasies, you were always too pathetic to do them! You’d fucking cum in a minute and then roll over and go to fucking sleep! If you wanted to rape someone, rape me ten years ago! Then I wouldn’t have become a fucking anal fuckslut! This is your fault!” 

With shaking arms, she turned to her daughter, “And of course I wouldn’t judge you for watching porn! That’d be such fucking hypocrisy! After all, I’m the one who had a train run on her with four fucking black cocks last night! The only problem Phoebe and her cousin has is they still think white BITCHBOYS can do it!” 

“F-four?” Dan sounded like he was tearing up. 

“Oh fuck yeah honey. My REAL man Purcell and three of his friends.” The room went quiet. “What? Oh, yeah, stay quiet. Because there’s nothing you can say about how I’m a fucking whore for biiiig, blaaack COCKS! I fucking fit four huge fucking black dicks up this asshole,” she pulled her dress up and showed her gaping anus to her husband and daughter, “They fucking shot their fucking cum all the way up my dirty fucking asshole. And it’s fucking thick too, unlike yours! I bet you fucking wish you could do that, huh? With that fucking little stupid 4 inch peice of shit! Do you wanna know how big my lovers were?” 

“H-how big?” asked Dan weakly as he was slumped on the couch. 

Charlotte noticed a tiny tent on her loser husband’s boxers. She wrinkled her nose at it, but then lunged at him. She grabbed at his underpants. Her boobs swung in his face. She easily overpowered him, throwing hus underwear on the floor. 

Exposed to his ruined family was Dan’s four inch skinny little white boy cocklet. It stood up straight and hard in the thin, soft bush that was his excuse for body hair. 

“Fucking fuck. Look at that pathetic LITTLE thing. My BULLS were fucking three times that big! The smallest was 10 inches, the biggest was fucking 13! THIRTEEN! How could your little fucking dick compare, huh? HUH?” 

She turned around. Phoebe was staring at his penis with disdain. Though neither girl thought penis was the best word. 

“Is that it, sweetie? That’s the thing that defiled you, right?” asked Charlotte. 

Phoebe nodded. “Yes, mom... it’s fucking gross. I can’t believe I had a fucking incest fetish...” 

“It’s alright baby- it’s alright. Look. Hey, BITCH!” She yelled at her husband, “I’m gonna get our fucking daughter some good porn with some good dicks so she can forget about your little loser thing, 

alright? And never touch her again, you- you- you fucking sick fucking fuck!” She punctuated her scolding with a few sharp kicks to his tiny, shaking balls. 

“AAAh! OW OW OW! H-HONEY- m- my-” 

“Your what? Your fucking little cuck balls? The ones that can’t produce enough fucking sperm to make a girl feel even fucking halfway filled! Look! Look...” she walked over to Phoebe. “Take your pants off, baby. I wanna show him how different cum can be. And how, even if this shitbag who owns our house took your virginity, your sex life can still be a fucking blast, alright baby?” She asked her daughter. Phoebe nodded and slipped off her leggings. Charlotte hiked her skirt all the way up. 

Both were smooth pussied, but Charlotte’s was shaved, with looser, darker lips, while Phoebe’s was natural. A pretty pink tight pussy. She might has well have been a virgin. 

“Now spread your legs,” instructed Charlotte. Phoebe obeyed. “Now look at the cum left over from last night.” The house’s matriarch fingered her daughter, eventually coaxing out a flow of sticky liquid which dripped onto her hand. Charlotte grabbed a china plate from the coffee table and smeared Dan’s cum on it. 

“Look at that,” whispered Charlotte mockingly, “look how thin it looks!” she was right. Dan’s shrivelled balls had given them watery, impotent cum of either a boy much younger or a man much older than him. It only even looked white when it was clumped together. 

“And now,” she said while standing up and spreading open her asscheeks right over the fancy plate, “mommy’s black boyfriend’s cum.” she pushed hard and stretched her asshole out with two fingers until eventually a big steady stream of smooth, thick, rich, creamy cum came out. All of it was plump and healthy. It landed with a splogsh and made a big, opaque puddle on the plate. It was almost yellowish it was so creamy. And it totally eclipsed Dan’s tiny load. 

“See who’s superior?” asked Charlotte. 

“T-that’s a wedding gift...” was all he could whimper about the show on the expensive plate. 

“Oh boo fucking hoo, I squirted black cum out of my ass onto our shitty wedding present,” she grabbed a matching china cup and brandished it, “What if I fucking pissed in this one and made you fucking drank it? How would you feel about that, huh?” she waved the cup around under her pale white crotch, “if you’re lucky maybe you’d fucking get to drink some of their delicious cum with my piss. How about fucking that? You should fucking respect what I do for you and listen to what I fucking say! Ungrateful little pervert piece of shit! Apologize!” 

“Yes,” he curled up again, this time closer to the edge of the couch. “I’m sorry Charlotte... I’m sorry Phoebe... for being a perverted POS.” 

“Good. Now I have an errand to run. Don’t you even dare fucking move. And don’t even FUCKING LOOK at Phoebe!” she pulled her skirt down, grabbed a coat and her purse, slipped back on her slutty high heels, and strutted out the door. 

Once she was gone, Phoebe got up. She sniffled a little. Even though her pussy’s wetness said that, like her mother, she got off on being a snowbunny dom, she was still upset at what happened to her family. 

“I hope you’re happy with mom only fucking black guys now. And never you, ever again,” she said as she took out her phone and opened it up. 

Dan sniffled too, sounding more like a bitching little dog than a man. He wasn’t the man of this house anymore. He hadn’t ever been, since Charlotte discovered black cock, but now he knew it. His head was buried in between his smooth, effeminate legs, and he was sitting on his scrawny ass and feet, with his tiny little balls poking out from his crotch. It looked like a pale hackeysack covered in thin straw. Wasn’t much bigger than one either. Over it hung the soft, impotent little worm that was his cock. Keyword was. Now it was a useless little twig of flesh. 

Dan pissed himself. His little dicklet perked up, and out of it came a steady, pale flow of piss from the organ which now was only for that. It tinkled all over his little balls. The hair got wet, but looked no thicker. Some got on his thighs, covering his pointless manhood in his cowardice. He was like a dying animal, emptying his bladder all over himself when he felt it was all over. It was, in a way, for him. He cried as he soaked the couch cushion. 

Phoebe walked over to the front entryway, on the side of which was a cushioned, round area to the left of the front door, bordered by windows. She sat down in it to talk on her phone. She’d already gone to contacts, and scrolled to the number for Kevin. 

Kevin Gold was a young white kid and a school friend of Phoebe’s. He was around her height, with light blonde hair with a touch of strawberry, smooth skin and a youthful face. He was average in body, but still rather attractive, and was madly in love with Phoebe Daugherty. Little did he know, she had a crush on him too. 

When he picked up the phone though, he answered as her best friend. 

“Hey, Phoebe. What’s up?” 

She sniffled, “I don’t know, Kev. My parents are fighting, and... I don’t know how to feel. My dad’s a piece of shit, but my mom’s... so different about it. I think I got it. But I think I’ll be fine. I just need someone to talk to. Can we talk? Not about me. About... about something else. Okay?” 

Kevin, of course, agreed. They talked for a bit, and Phoebe felt better. Kevin told her to just trust in herself. With some soul searching, Phoebe realized how different she felt. How her slutty black cock loving mom awakened something in her. Just then, Phoebe had to hang up, because her mom was back. 

She walked back into the living room. Her dad was still sitting on the couch, but not crying anymore. 

Charlotte burst through the door. Shopping bags were in her ams and a strange smile was on her face. It was a look she hadn’t had all day. From the moment she walked in and said, “Alright, my happy little white family, let’s see what the real world has for us,” both new something was up. 

Phoebe was getting excited. She was proud to be this woman’s daughter. While she had very quickly grown to despise her father, she replaced all of that with how, sexually, she admired her mom so much more. Her mother looked like a million bucks- she put some makeup on, maybe did her hair a little, but that wasn’t the point. If her hair was a rat’s nest she’d still be the same. Her sexy body filled out that lilac dress perfectly, and the way she carried herself made her tits and thighs ooze with sex appeal. She was a woman who knew and got what she wanted. Fuck whatever her disgusting, cuckold husband had to say about it. 

Charlotte looked down at Dan and saw how red his eyes were, and how the couch under him had a soaked puddle. 

She exploded. “WHAT THE FUCK, YOU PATHETIC LITTLE PEICE OF SHIT? DID YOU FUCKING PISS YOURSELF LIKE SOME FUCKING LITTLE BRAT? YOU PISSED YOURSELF AND ITS ALL OVER YOUR USELESS, UGLY LITTLE STUPID IMPOTENT DICKLET, UGH AND YOUR BALLS AND MOST IMPORTANTLY MY FUCKING COUCH? YOU’D BETTER CLEAN THAT UP!” 

Dan squeaked and got up, running to the kitchen to get paper towels and spray. 

“Good,” she hissed, “like a good little dog,” she turned to their daughter, “So, how are you feeling now?” 

Just as her mom was honest, Phoebe was too. “I like what you’re doing. Dad’s always been... a little weird. But now I realize it wasn’t the kind of weird that, um... gets me wet. But what you do, like, like, the way you take control? I like that. I wanna be like you. And this talk of black guys?” Charlotte grinned. “You like thinking of that. Those massive, throbbing, lengthy, hot black dongs? You ever seen porn with black guys?” Phoebe quickly turned beet red. Charlotte smiled, “It’s good if you have. I’m so fucking jealous that you’re already exposed to porn at your age. I didn’t even have the chance to get online porn until I was almost 20! And there wasn’t anywhere near as much Blacked stuff then.” 

Phoebe worked up the nerve to nod ‘yes’ to her mother. 

Another smile. “I’m so proud of you!” she beamed, like momma like daughter, Phoebe had more than enough for the seed of a braindead snowbunny slut to grow in her underdeveloped white little body. She might not have been as busty or curvy as her mother, but Phoebe promised there and then to be twice the alpha girl slut. 

And poor little Dan, having cleaned up his mess, tried to stand up to speak to his wife, but was soon knocked down. “NO! Me and my black bulls own this house now, not you! If you wanted to be a man, you shouldn’t have been so weak, or whiny like a baby. You should’ve been able to make me cum! But now I’ve got better men for that. And speaking of...” She took out her phone, turned on apple TV, and showed off her photo gallery. 432 pictures and videos were taken last night. A cache of amateur pornography featuring one Charlotte Daugherty and 4 black studs. 

She started playing the videos. First was one with her kissing the camera sluttily, then walking back to pose with Purcell in a wide variety of ways. The next video showed her pointing out the bulge in his 

pants, then taking his shirt off to make out with him and lick his hot black abs. He flexed a bit for the camera before going to the next vid. He took it out in that one, and Charlotte’s whole family got to see how it was as long as her arm. 

In the room, while a video of the other three guys unsheathing their meats played behind her, Charlotte stripped her dress of. Her perfectly smooth pussy and her bouncing tits were great, and she didn’t wear underwear, of course. She sung ‘happy birthday to me’, as the TV had her giving Dan the middle finger. 

“Come on!” Said today’s Charlotte, “let’s get some fun group stuff going. Family porn night! Starring mommy!” She grinned evily as she sat down next to Phoebe. She encouraged her daughter to strip. Her pants already had a dark stain. 

Dan and Phoebe began masturbating across the room to the TV showing Charlotte lick all around the heads of all their cocks. The lady of the house ran off upstairs to get her dildo. When she came back, Phoebe was lounging back, butt naked, and confidently flicking her little bean to her mom gasping at the huge loads of cum that were now getting dumped on her face. Meanwhile Dan was hunched over pathetically. He tugged his little cock hard. It’s tininess, along with his boring hairstyle and skinny bday, made him look like a child compared to his daughter. And forget his wife. 

“Oo, look at him!” Laughed Charlotte, tapping Phoebe’s shoulder to get her to look over, “little losers trying to tug that tiny thing! Isn’t that fucking pathetic? Can’t you see why I need this?” she laughed, pulling the thick dildo out of her. Phoebe laughed too. 

“But mom, you take a bigger one in the vid,” she pointed at her screen with her free hand. 

“True- this toys just to tide me over. Better than hubby, you know?” She thrusted it into her gaping pussy a few more times. Her nasty juices flew across the room with a loud shlicking sound. Phoebe’s only trickled down her taint and onto her little pink pucker butthole. Charlotte took out the plastic cock and handed it to her daughter, “wanna go?” 

Phoebe shook her head, “I can’t take that.” 

Her mom smiled, “You’d better learn soon baby girl, if you wanna get blacked.” 

She stared at the size of the thing. “Never seen one up close but... it’s scary,” she chuckled, “I’d rather just watch.” 

“Then you’ll get tons of live shows.” 

“Mmmm. I’m already loving this. Just as good as the pro stuff I watch.” Phoebe was referring to Charlotte getting her ass pounded and her blonde hair painted white by those black hunks. 

“Thats cuz they’re black,” giggled Charlotte, “white guys in porn always wear fake dicks, that shoot fake cum and all that. Interracial’s real though. No faked orgasms there.” Charlotte put her leg up on the coffee table and aggressively rubbed her clit, “and I’ll never have to again.” 

They kept watching as Charlotte deepthroated every black cock. Every vid ended with them cumming their manly loads into her throat. They led her to the bedroom, with the camera on her swaying ass, where she had a train run on each and every hole. She was made airtight, first by their huge cocks and then by their thick cum. 

They just kept going. Dan usually got petered out after he came once after a few minutes, then rolled over and slept as Charlotte uncomfortably masturbated until she fell asleep. These guys seemed to have infinitely full balls . After they made the bed dirty with spilling loads, they tossed the tired white whore onto the floor, jacking off over her. They set the foundation for a full body coat of thick black cum. 

With a pathetic groan and three fingers wrapped around his dick, Dan started cumming. Instead of shooting anything out of his needle-like pink dick, it just dribbled onto the floor. 

“Ch-Charlotte,” he groaned. 

“Shut the fuck up! Your daughter and I are trying to masturbate to PURCELL’s friends running train on me. Purcell could cum like 9 times last night without a problem. Can your stupid balls only muster one fucking load? Try and at least be man enough to make another load!” She shut him up. 

Then there were the ones on her face. Tons of cum was unloaded onto her cheeks, in her eyes, on her cleavage and hair. It just kept going, until she was barely even fucking them any more, and just being jacked off too. Soon, every inch of skin above her knees hand some sort of man juice on it. Mostly her pussy, under her ass, her tits, and her unrecognizable face. She got to the point where their fat loads of cum landing on her weak white skin made her cum. Every single time. 

“See Phoebe? That’s what real men do. Not like your dad over there, cumming into his hand.” 

Phoebe looked over. Her dad was leaking out thin white juices onto his scrawny fingers. “How’d you even get pregnant?” She asked her mom. She paused. “Is he really my dad?” 

Charlotte looked away from her husband as he collapsed exhausted on the ruined couch. “Well, I’m shocked he managed to get me pregnant even once. But you’re his alright. I’d never cheat with another white boy. But hey. You got my beautiful eyes.” 

“I kinda wish guys like, unf, unf, that,” she pointed to the TV, “were my dad.” 

To clean off, they dragged Charlotte to the shower, where she could barely stand. Instead she pumped their cocks, worshiped their balls, and even rimmed their assholes. All their cum newly clogged the drain. After, they made her dry them off, and then lick up their cum off the floor. 

At around 2 AM according to when the video was taken, she passed out when she was halfway done, facefirst into a puddle of cum. 

Phoebe came. 

“Aaah!” She yelled, thrusting her hips over the armrest of the white cushioned couch. Her orgasm squirted all over dad’s men’s health magazines that he never read. “They really did that, mom?” 

She nodded. “It’s weird telling you, sweetie, but yeah. Mommy’s a fucking abuse slut for big black cock.” 

“It’s hotter than weirder. God, that was the best I’ve ever cum.” 

“Well, that’s black guys. And now” she kept swiping through her phone, showing them photos of the bulls taking advantage of Charlotte’s unconscious body on the tv. Weird things were stuffed in her asshole, and she was fucked in multiple uncomfortable positions like a rag doll. 

“Fuck,” Charlotte bit her lip, “I didn’t know they did- did- did... did that!” Her pussy exploded with a waterfall of orgasm, even wetting the TV screen a little. 

“There it is!” She sat back and sighed, “it’s like every time I cum to black guys it’s better.” 

A bit after, she saw Dan getting up. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” She asked, less angry now. 

“C-cleaning up my mess?” 

She laughed, “your widdle loads? Barley a mess. And don’t do it with clothes on. Strip.” 

“I-“ 

“Did I fucking stutter?” 

He frowned and stripped. He prided himself on looking youthful, but honestly he just looked pathetic. Thin, featureless white skin, and a fitting tiny, soft little penis, barely poking out of his crotch. 

She smiled as she walked over to pick up her bag, “good, baby. We’re not going to pretend you’re not pathetic and inferior anymore in this house, alright sweetie?” 

“Yes, dear,” he got on all fours to wipe up god cum. She ran her foot up and down his effeminate asscrack possesively. 

“And we won’t be bringing what you did to Phoebe to the authorities because you’re going to admit that you’re a pathetic little cuckold, and us ladies are gonna be enjoying all the black cock we want now.” 

“W-what?” 

“Yes babe. Did you think I was gonna stop cheating on you? After realizing what a freak you are, I can barely stomach you now. But I might forgive you if you let me fuck all the black guys I want, when I want, where I want, and how I want. Not for some reward, but out of the goodness of your heart. Sound good?” 

He looked down at his flaccid manhood. It was as wimpy as he was. He nodded in agreement to her terms. 

“Great! That makes me so happy Dan, you don’t even know!” She dishes through her bag and got a box out. The back was legal fine print and faced Dan, “can you say it?” She asked. 

“I- I’m a white cuckold... I’m small...” 

“And?” 

“And pathetic, and I barely cum and can’t make my wife cum.” 

“And?” 

“And I’m a perv who r-raped his own daughter because... because I’m a white loser who was so insecure,...” 

“But now...?” 

“N-now I’m happy to let you f-fuck,” he started tearing up, “all the black c-c- guys you want.” 

“Good boy. Did you enjoy your orgasm?” 

“Yeah,” sniffled her submissive hubby. 

“Good,” she turned the box around, “because it’s the last you’ll have in a while.” The box had a picture of plastic in the shape of a small penis, titled ‘THE LOCK HIM UP CHASTITY CAGE- size small.’ 

“W-what?” 

“What what? I said I’d forgive you, but you have to make it up for me. So like a good little white cuckold, you’re going to be locked away in this little chastity cage. I’ll keep the key, and you can only cum when I say so. Agreed?” 

He nodded. Totally impotent. 

“Good,” she took it out, read the instructions, and started to put it on. Phoebe came over to watch. She slipped the cock ring over his tiny worm, then putting the cage over it, screwing it on, and finally locking it all together with a little gold padlock. 

Both Phoebe and Charlotte laughed at his baby dick all locked away in his new cuckold cage. It was a clear plastic tinted pink, fitting for the little bitch it was on. It was a little heavy, and pulled down his crotch a little. 

“And this thing scared me?” Laughed Phoebe, flicking it and watching it wiggle and twitch. 

“To think I married that thing,” replied Charlotte. Dan was still speechless. 

“Let’s sample our new life, how about that?” 

“Sample?” Asked Phoebe and Dan in unison. 

“That’s right,” smiled Charlotte, showing them both her phone. On it were recent texts from contacts Darnel, Jamie, Kyan, and Purcell. “I invited the guys over. We’re having another gangbang here, in one hour.” 

[rachelstwomoms]

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AU: Rachel’s Birthday  (Part 3/?)

(  Part 1  |  Part 2  )

Rachel had been so excited about her birthday party-slash-sleepover that she planned it all out weeks in advance. With Rose’s assistance, she came up with a schedule that laid out exactly what she wanted to do from beginning to end, starting with the pool party in the afternoon all the way through breakfast the following morning. If they were to follow the original plan, next up on the agenda would be to return home, make ice cream sundaes and then watch a movie before bed, but since Rachel and Chloe took such a long time choosing their prizes back at the arcade, they won’t be getting home until closer to nine. While Rose doesn’t mind if the kids stay up late tonight -- it’s Rachel’s birthday after all -- it’s been such a long day that she wonders if they’ll be too tired. She knows she is.

But during the whole ride home, Rachel and Chloe chatter excitedly about ice cream and what toppings they’re going to use. Even Maxine who seemed all tuckered out at the arcade appears to have some newfound energy. They arrive back at the house and Rose sends the girls upstairs to change into their pajamas while she sets up their mini ice cream bar. Opening the pantry door, Rose takes out the candy, cookies, sprinkles, cereal and marshmallows that Rachel specifically chose for tonight and sets them out on the counter. She grabs whipped cream and chocolate syrup from the fridge, then the eight pint-sized tubs of ice cream from the freezer. Yes, Rachel had somehow convinced her that she and her friends needed that many different flavors.

“Ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream!”

Rose looks up and sees Rachel and her friends marching down the stairs, clad in their sleep clothes and chanting for dessert. She quickly grabs a few bowls and spoons for them before stepping out of the way and letting them go to town.

And they do.

It isn’t long before the countertops are littered with crumbs, runaway sprinkles and sticky drops of syrup and melted ice cream. Rachel finishes making her sundae first, then zooms into the living room to set up the movie. Rose moves a little closer to get a peek at the kids’ creations. As expected, Maxine’s is neat and carefully constructed, chocolate sprinkles evenly covering the surface of plain vanilla ice cream, and now she’s breaking up some chocolate chip cookies into bite-sized bits for the finishing touch. Chloe has already drowned her creation in chocolate syrup, and is now squirting a mountain of whipped cream on top. From the looks of it, Rose thinks that she put a little of everything in there.

Rose can only hope that nobody gets sick tonight.

“Hurry up, guys!” Rachel calls from the living room. “I’m gonna start it already!”

Maxine drops the last of her cookies into her bowl before grabbing her spoon and going to join Rachel. After dumping some last minute toppings onto hers, Chloe also heads into the living room. They settle on the sofa side by side like peas in a pod, and Rachel, from her cozy spot in the middle, hits the ‘play’ button on the remote control.

“Guess what!” Rachel speaks in between bites of ice cream. “My dad rented this movie right from his computer and it came in the mail the very next day. We didn’t even have to leave the house.”

Chloe speaks with a mouthful of ice cream. “You can do that?”

“Yeah,” replies Rachel, matter-of-factly. There’s a slightly boastful tone to her voice and she sits up a little straighter, eager to be the one to bestow her knowledge of online DVD rentals to her friends. “From a website on the internet. He let me get three other ones, too.” Sure enough, there’s a small stack of movies on the coffee table. Rachel leans forward and grabs the one at the very top of the pile to show Chloe and Maxine. “This one was hella funny.”

“Rachel.”

It’s a warning from the next room.

Rose isn’t listening to the girls’ conversation on purpose. She had been minding her own business, putting away ice cream and toppings, but her stepdaughter’s voice is one sound that her ears can pick up on from a mile away. That, and also the fact that the living room is right next to the kitchen and any dialogue spoken in there can be heard loud and clear.

“It was super funny,” Rachel says again, changing the offending word to one that her stepmother approves. “Me and Rose watched it together last night.”

Putting the cap back on another tub of ice cream and tossing one more sticky spoon into the sink, Rose thinks about last night and smiles. It was her first movie night with Rachel in a long, long time. Their first since moving to Arcadia Bay. Ever since Rachel started middle school, she’s been devoting a lot more time to schoolwork and extracurriculars. Her schedule is busier, she’s away from home a lot more, and Rose doesn’t get to see her as often. Even when Rachel has a free day, more often than not she ends up wanting to hang out with her friends. And recently…

Recently, even when Rachel’s at home, she’s been spending a lot more time up in her bedroom, content to entertain herself with a book or one of her many electronic gadgets. And while Rose appreciates having a little more time to herself now that Rachel’s older and doesn’t demand so much attention, there’s a part of her that kind of misses the old days.

Rose can’t pinpoint exactly when each of these little things stopped, but Rachel never holds her hand while they’re out in public anymore. She no longer comes into her and James’ bedroom in the early mornings for extra cuddles and sleepy pillow chats before they start the day. These days, she doesn’t ask for hugs or kisses at all. Of course, Rose still gives them whenever Rachel will accept them, but it certainly hasn’t been easy to adapt to these changes.

And sure, Rose understands. Rachel’s growing up. There’s only one more year before she’s a teenager, after all. Over the years, Rachel has blossomed into a headstrong, ambitious, incredibly talented individual and Rose couldn’t be more proud. As her stepdaughter becomes more and more independent every day, Rose notices that she doesn’t quite need her as much anymore. Well, deep down, Rose knows that Rachel will always need her… just maybe not in the same ways as she did when she was younger.

It’s bittersweet and, admittedly, a little lonely sometimes, but that’s just life.

Rose is still working on accepting it.

------------------------------

It’s the evening before Rachel’s birthday, and everything’s ready for the party tomorrow. Presents have been bought and wrapped. The kitchen cabinets are loaded with party snacks. Rose is planning to put up some birthday decorations after Rachel goes to sleep, and James will pick up the cake and balloons in the morning.

The house is quiet. James is downstairs in his office, catching up on some work, and Rachel is up in her room. Rose decides to use this unexpected free time to get a head start on some of the weekend’s household chores.

Just as Rose is about to toss in a load of laundry, Rachel comes out of her bedroom looking for her.

“Rose?”

When Rose looks up, Rachel is standing in the doorway, headphones resting around her neck and holding her portable DVD player. Assuming that there’s only one reason Rachel has come to find her, Rose turns her attention back to her laundry basket and starts tossing clothes into the washer. “There are more batteries in Daddy’s office, honey.”

“Huh?” Rachel is momentarily confused. “No, I was gonna ask if you wanted to watch a movie with me.”

“A movie?” The words echo from Rose’s lips as though she didn’t actually hear them and she might have just imagined them. Her hand, holding a fistful of Rachel’s t-shirts, stops inches from the opening of the washing machine and they fall back onto the laundry heap. “Now? Right now?”

“Yeah,” says Rachel, picking up on Rose’s weird behavior. “Or, like, do you have stuff to do?”

“Oh, no, no!” The laundry can wait until morning. “I’d love to watch a movie with you, honey. Let me just…” Rose stands and straightens out her skirt, then quickly scans the laundry room to make sure she isn’t forgetting anything important. She won’t be back until tomorrow. “Okay. Yes. Would you like me to-” Her stepdaughter is giving her a strange look. Rose takes a deep breath, trying to suppress her elation and tries again. Heaven forbid she freak Rachel out and make her change her mind about the movie. “I’ll make some popcorn.”

A happy smile appears on Rachel’s face. “Cool! I’ll get blankets and pillows!” She closes the lid of her DVD player and zips down the hall.

It’s been about ten years since Rose moved in with James and, at the time, a very tiny, baby Rachel. Rose quit her job to become her new stepdaughter’s primary caretaker and only went back to work again when Rachel started school. After that, up until they moved to Arcadia Bay, Rose worked part-time in the mornings and James full-time in the afternoons. James would feed Rachel breakfast and take her to school, and then they would switch once Rose returned from work around noon. From the time Rose picked Rachel up from school until the end of the day, it was usually just the two of them. James didn’t finish work until late in the evenings. Occasionally, he would have to work overtime and wouldn’t get home until after Rachel was asleep.

Their movie nights first started as a way for Rose to keep Rachel happy on nights when James wouldn’t be home to tuck her in. Rose would try to make their evening of mommy-daughter time so fun that Rachel wouldn’t miss James too much come bedtime. And it worked. The two of them would change into their PJs early, and Rose would set up the living room sofa with pillows and blankets. For the finishing touch, Rose would prepare a big bowl of popcorn for them to share. Then they would snuggle up under the blankets and watch whatever movie Rachel chose for them that night.

It never bothered Rose that her lap would end up littered with popcorn crumbs and unpopped kernels, thanks to a certain little someone who would be so mesmerized by the movie that she was oblivious to how messily she was eating. Every so often, Rachel’s head would pop up and she would peek over at Rose to see her reaction to something that happened on the screen. As soon as their eyes met, she would erupt into endearing little giggles that melted Rose’s heart. Even though Rose’s side always ended up sweaty from the tiny body curled up against her… and even though her hand would get grubby from salty, greasy fingers threading their way through her own… it was worth it. Moments like these always reminded Rose of the immense love that she has for Rachel and how lucky she feels to be her mother.

As Rachel got older, their movie nights became less frequent. There were plenty of other activities that Rachel opted to do instead -- arts and crafts, games, reading. But then Rachel started middle school and Rose went back to work full-time, and they kind of just stopped altogether.  

But tonight, Rose’s heart swells at the thought of getting to spend the evening with Rachel again. As she throws in a bag of microwave popcorn, Rose actually starts to tear up a little bit, but she bites back her emotions and dries her eyes before Rachel comes downstairs. After a few minutes, as Rose is transferring the popcorn from its oily bag into a bowl, Rachel reappears, now clad in a tank top and pajama bottoms. She comes down the stairs, a pillow under each arm and dragging her fuzzy, purple blanket behind her like a bridal train.

Rachel is met with the warm, inviting aroma of hot, buttery popcorn and she inhales deeply. “That smells amazing.” She dumps the pillows and blanket onto the sofa. “Do you want me to get another blanket or do you wanna just share mine?”

“That’s okay,” Rose says with a soft smile, “one is enough.”

Rachel flops belly-first onto the small blanket-pillow mountain and lies there comfortably, waiting for Rose. When her stepmother comes into the room with the popcorn, Rachel furrows her brows and looks at Rose almost incredulously. “Aren’t you gonna change?”

Rose sets the popcorn onto the coffee table and looks down at herself. Oh. Right.

An unspoken rule for Rose and Rachel’s movie nights is that all participants must, under all circumstances, adhere to the dress code: sleepy time casual.

Rose finds it adorable that Rachel still remembers and cares enough to stick by it. “Yes, I’ll do that now. Let me run upstairs.”

“I’ll wait,” Rachel promises, eyeing the popcorn bowl. With a mischievous grin, she reaches out and grabs a small handful. “I’m just gonna taste-test the snacks.”

Eager to rejoin Rachel downstairs, Rose changes into her nightgown with a bit more haste than usual. She’s fully aware that her tween isn’t going to climb all over her for cuddles like she used to, but that’s okay. Rose is just looking forward to having some one-on-one time with Rachel because, lately, those opportunities are few and far between.

Rachel has hit that difficult age… that sort of limbo between baby and adult. She’s not quite a teenager, but she’s definitely no longer a little kid. For the past couple of years, she’s been fighting her parents for more independence and rejecting treatment that she used to be fine with. Now Rachel chooses her own clothes and has her own sense of style. She sets her own alarm clock and can wake up for school all by herself. But, although she no longer asks for bedtime stories, or for Rose to stay with her until she falls asleep, for now, she still calls Rose into her room before bed and lets her tuck her in and give her a goodnight kiss. And Rose will keep doing so for as long as Rachel will let her.

Rose Amber will always have love to give, no matter how old her stepdaughter gets.

------------------------------

For the most part, all the ice cream and toppings have been returned to the freezer and their respective kitchen shelves. Just one last tub of cookies and cream remains. Rose stands by the sink and finds herself deep in thought, only half-watching over Rachel and her friends. She’s still thinking about what James told her at the arcade. Her hand moves on its own, reaching into the utensil drawer for a clean spoon, taking a single bite of ice cream and then dropping the spoon into the sink.

Should they tell Rachel that Sera’s coming tonight?

Rose plucks another spoon from the drawer and takes another bite of ice cream.

It’s not that she intentionally wants to hide it from Rachel. Not at all. But when Sera told her that she couldn’t make it to the party…

Shaking her head sadly, Rose grabs yet another spoon and scoops out an even larger chunk of the frozen dessert.

Rachel was so angry and hurt, and just seeing her like that was heartbreaking. And on her birthday. Her birthday.

Rose’s hand feels around for one more spoon, but there aren’t any left in the drawer.

“You know, it might’ve been easier to put some in a bowl instead of using up all the spoons,” says James, chuckling in amusement as he comes over from behind.  

Face flushing a soft pink at being caught, Rose shakes her head. “Oh, no. I was just putting it away. Just trying to clean up in here.”

James watches his wife put the lid back on the tub of ice cream and return it to the freezer. Her knit brows and the downward curve of her lips are telltale signs that there’s something bothering her. Recent events considered, James is pretty sure he knows what it is. In fact, he’s almost certain that it’s the same thing he came here to talk about.

“James, I was just thinking about…” Rose starts, but then her eyes dart over to their daughter and she lowers her voice, “about Sera. I don’t think we should tell Rachel.”

James sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I was just thinking about that.”

“I think we should just let her enjoy the rest of her sleepover. Sera won’t be here until… What time did you say she was getting in?”

“Hold on, she texted me her flight info,” says James, pulling out his phone to check Sera’s message. “Her plane gets in at around ten, but she still has to stop at the car rental place. She said she’ll call after she lands to give us an updated ETA.”

“We’re quite a ways from the airport,” Rose adds, fingers moving to fiddle with her bracelet. “I don’t think she’ll be here until midnight at the earliest.”

“You don’t think the girls will still be awake?”

Rose shakes her head. “Not this time. They’re exhausted, James. See how quiet they’re being? They’re usually chatting up a storm during movies.”

James looks into the living room. The girls do seem rather subdued tonight. His eyes wander over to Rachel and only then does he notice that she’s wearing her glasses. She only ever wears them at home when she’s tired. “Rachel might want to know.”

“I know,” sighs Rose, massaging the bridge of her nose with her fingers, “but she was so upset this afternoon. I don’t want to risk souring her mood just in case she still has some hard feelings about Sera not being there today.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Let’s let her have fun tonight. She can see Sera in the morning.”

James agrees. Rachel is having a great time with her friends at the moment, and letting her end her birthday on a high note is the least they can do. They don’t want to rock the boat.

So James returns to his office and Rose resumes kitchen cleanup. Once all dishes have been washed and all countertops wiped, Rose decides that she has earned herself a break. She takes a seat in the dining room with a book, ready to unwind a bit while she waits for the girls to finish their movie.

Nearly two hours past Rachel’s normal bedtime, the movie ends and the credits start rolling. Almost immediately, the girls start chattering away, sharing comments and thoughts. The sudden increase of volume coming from the living room causes Rose to look up from her book and glance at the clock beside her. It’s getting late. Rose decides to let Rachel and her friends know that it’s time to head upstairs. Even if they don’t go to sleep right away, and Rose knows they won’t, it’s time to close up shop downstairs and bring the party up to Rachel’s room for the night.

Before Rose can get up from her chair, however, Rachel’s coming over to her. Rose internally sighs when she sees that all-too-familiar look on her face. It’s the one she pulls whenever she wants something.  

“Rose?”

Here it comes. Rose braces herself. “Yes, Rachel?”

Rachel sidles over beside her stepmother, clasping her hands together. “Can we stay up and watch one more movie?”

“Honey, it’s getting late. Do you know what time it is?”

“It’s only...” Rachel looks at the grandfather clock behind Rose. “Oh. But tomorrow’s Sunday!” Rachel is well-versed in the art of persuasion, or, in other words, the art of getting her way. The gears in her head are already turning. “I wanted to show Maxine Freaky Friday because she’s never seen it before and she really, really wants to watch it.”

“You’ve had such a long day. Aren’t you tired?” Rose expects to be shot down, but… it’s worth a try.

“No,” Rachel insists, a little too quickly, “not really.”

Rose gives her a look.

Realizing that she’s going to have to crank it up a notch, Rachel moves right next to her stepmother and leans against the side of the chair. Rose scoots over to make room for her and Rachel takes a seat. She loops her arm through Rose’s and rests her head on her shoulder. “Please? I promise we’ll go to bed right after.”

“Are you sure about that? I won’t hear you three giggling all night like last time?”

Rachel plays her last card. Pouting her lips, she looks up at Rose with big, sad eyes. “Pleeease, Rose?”

After years and years of Rachel’s tactics, Rose knows that this is just a show. But Rose is soft. She’s always been soft when it comes to Rachel, who’s always known exactly how to pull on her heartstrings. Tonight, though, Rose finds it even harder for her to say no, not only because it’s Rachel’s birthday, but because of those eyes. It wasn’t as noticeable from a distance, but with Rachel sitting so close, Rose can see how her eyes are still a little puffy. And then she remembers that afternoon, and how upset Rachel was… and Rose is weak. She just wants Rachel to have the best birthday possible.    

Sighing in defeat, Rose reaches out and smooths Rachel’s hair. “Just one more movie, and only if you bring it upstairs and watch it in your room. Do we have a deal?”

Rachel squeals and throws her arms around Rose in a hug. “Yay! Thank you!”

And Rose hugs back, wrapping both arms around her and holding on tight even after Rachel starts to pull away.

“Hey!” Rachel’s voice is muffled from being squeezed against Rose. Her stepmother’s response is to hug her even more tightly, which causes Rachel to giggle and squirm around in attempt to break free. “Rose! Let me go!”

Giving Rachel’s back one last gentle pat and pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head, Rose loosens her hold. “Happy birthday, honey.”

Rachel quiets down and lingers in Rose’s arms just a moment longer. “You can watch the movie with us if you want.”

Finally pulling away, Rose smiles softly. “That’s okay. I know kids your age don’t want someone’s dorky mom hanging around.”

Rachel laughs. “You’re not that dorky.”

Those four silly words still manage to warm Rose’s heart. “Thank you, Rachel.”

“Chloe, Maxine!” Rachel calls out to her friends to share the good news. “She said ‘okay’!”

“I want you girls to brush your teeth and get ready for bed before you start your movie, okay?” Rose instructs. “And don’t stay up too late. Maxine’s and Chloe’s parents will be by in the morning, and you know how Mrs. Caulfield likes to come early.”

Rachel returns to the living room to grab their next DVD before bidding Rose goodnight and leading her friends upstairs. There are a few more dishes left to wash, so Rose collects the girls’ ice cream bowls and brings them into the kitchen to add to the pile in the sink. She wets her sponge, squirts a generous amount of dish detergent onto one side and, yawning, begins what she hopes is her last chore of the day.

While Rose is in the middle of dish cleanup, James comes out of his office. “So, Sera called.”

Rose rinses the soap suds from a handful of spoons. “What did she say?”

“She’s on her way. Should probably be here around midnight.”

“All right. I’ll wait up for her,” Rose volunteers. “You can head up to bed first. I know you have that conference call in the morning.”

“Are you sure?” James asks. “I can wait up with you.”

“It’s fine, I’ll still be up. I was going to check in on the girls in a little bit anyway.”

James comes over and puts an arm around Rose, caressing down her back and resting a hand on her waist. Leaning in, he presses a lingering kiss on the soft skin between her neck and shoulder.

“James,” Rose warns in a hushed voice, nudging him away, “the girls.”

He gives a low chuckle. “Okay, okay. Thanks. Let me know if anything comes up.”

“Goodnight.”

The couple share a goodnight kiss and then James disappears upstairs. Once finished with the dishes, Rose sinks into the recliner and relaxes in front of the TV for a while. As it gets closer to midnight, Rose figures that she should pop upstairs one more time to make sure the girls are settling in for the night. Halfway to the second floor, she can already hear the faint sound of the movie playing through Rachel’s closed door. Rose knocks lightly and then waits, listening for a response.

Nobody answers, so Rose slowly opens the door, but only enough to stick her head inside. “Girls, is everything-” She stops. In the dim glow of the portable DVD player’s tiny screen, only one pair of eyes looks back up at her. Rose smiles, stepping into the room and walking slowly, silently over to the bed and lowers her voice to barely a whisper. “Oh dear. Maxine, it looks like your friends fell asleep on you.”

Sprawled out near the foot of the bed, one leg dangling off the edge is Chloe, snoozing with her mouth hanging open. On one side of the bed is Rachel, lying on her belly with her head in her arms, but flipped with her feet towards the headboard. She’s also sound asleep. Then there’s Maxine, sitting in one corner of the mattress, awake and alone and unsure of what to do.

“Would you like me to put this away?” The girl nods gratefully, and Rose picks up the DVD player from its spot against the footboard, careful not to pull on Rachel’s hair by accident. Closing the lid, she sets it on the nearby desk, then goes to rouse her stepdaughter and her sleeping friend. “Come on, girls. Bedtime.”

Rose manages to herd a half-conscious Rachel and Chloe into bed properly and get them under the covers. Only after making sure all three girls are snug and comfy does Rose excuse herself from the room. On her way out, she flips the switch on Rachel’s galaxy night light and gives a little wave to Maxine. “If you need anything, James and I are right down the hall. Sweet dreams.”

Before returning downstairs, Rose stops in her and James’ bedroom to put on something more comfortable. She’s so tired. The sight of her bed is incredibly tempting and it takes everything she has not to collapse onto her mattress and let sleep take her. But Rose changes into her nightgown and pulls on her robe, then slips into her house slippers and forces herself to walk away.

It’s hard for Rose to believe that the girls are all in bed before midnight. This might be the earliest they’ve ever gone to sleep on a sleepover night. A new record. The last time Chloe and Maxine slept over, Rose kept hearing voices and laughter all through the night…  despite sending James into Rachel’s bedroom more than once to tell them that enough was enough and that they needed to go to sleep now. It wasn’t until around four or five in the morning that peace and quiet befell the Amber house at last.

The following morning was rough, and that’s putting it mildly. Rose had to shuffle three zombies downstairs for a breakfast that nobody was in the mood for, and it only got worse when it was time for her guests to leave. Rose was overly apologetic when Chloe’s and Maxine’s families arrived, afraid that she would be seen as an incapable parent who sets no boundaries and lets Rachel rule the roost. William Price, bless him, was completely understanding and laughed it off, saying that the kids never get any sleep at their house either. Rose felt a lot better… until she returned a visibly sleep-deprived Maxine to her mother and had to grin and bear it through Vanessa Caulfield’s silent but obvious judgement.

After stopping in the entryway to switch on the porch light, Rose goes into the living room with the same book from earlier and makes herself comfortable in the recliner facing the window. Sera should be here soon. She just needs to hold out a little longer, and then she can finally, finally head to bed. It’s been such a long day.  

Such a long day…

Rose has lost track of how many times she’s had this exact thought this evening.

Sinking deeper into the chair cushions, Rose cracks open her book but only ends up reading a couple of pages before she starts to nod off. The book slips from her grasp, forgotten, into the space between her and the armrest. Perhaps she should make herself a cup of tea? Vision turning a bit fuzzy, Rose blinks, and blinks, and blinks again… to no avail. Her eyelids feel so heavy. Rose wills herself to sit up, to maybe walk around the room so she can keep herself awake, but it’s as though her arms and legs have suddenly gained a thousand pounds each and she finds herself anchored to her seat.

How in the world is she going to be able to open the door when Sera arrives?

That’s her last conscious thought before everything fades to black.

[noisymiagy]

15 Smart Ways to Avoid Getting Sick When You Travel

Assume getting ill while you journey is inevitable? Think once more.

Extra than 2.5 million passengers board a plane within the united states alone each and each day. And whilst many are looking forward to sitting on a beach somewhere getting a sun-kissed glow, limitless others will experience a much less-exceptional holiday side impact: getting unwell.

Among recycled air, questionable food, and jet lag, vacationers regularly locate that their immune systems are down for the remember, making their trip depressing within the manner. And while hand-washing can assist restriction a number of the germs you stumble upon on your travels, there's only a lot a sink and some soap can do. However,  just due to the fact you've got continued sidelining tour illness before would not imply you need to once more.

We've got rounded up 28 clever ways to avoid getting unwell while you travel. So examine on, and live happier and more healthy in your subsequent adventure.

1-Sanitize Surfaces—Starting on the Plane

At the same time as cleaning crews do their first-class to preserve the plane easily, they can't tackle each germ. If you need to avoid getting ill from the germs left at the back of by means of different passengers, there is an easy answer: sanitize.

"while journeying, your palms turn out to be 'fomites,' which can be gadgets that switch germs picked up from touching surfaces," says dermatologist Cynthia Bailey, m.D., founder of dr. Bailey pores and skincare. Her concept? "travel with hand sanitizer wipes! Constantly wipe down the arms, far-flung, seat belt clip, and all tough buttons or systems you contact in your seat. Then discard the wipe. Use a brand new one for your palms." and while you want to live secure at some stage in your travels

2-Stay Hydrated on the Plane

That stale airplane air can quickly depart someone feeling dehydrated and commonly worse for put on. Fortuitously, consuming the proper ingredients can help fight this very quickly.

"I advocate ingesting mild and water-crammed foods, inclusive of a small salad and a chunk of fruit, and drinking lots of water on the aircraft because the air humidity is lots lower than our normal surroundings and it is so clean to end up dehydrated," says Dr. Tara Nayak, nd, a Philadelphia-based naturopathic doctor. And in case you need to hydrate extra healthily, high-tail it to one of the 25 US Towns with the fine ingesting water.

3-Get Your Shots

Earlier than you even e book your journey, ensure you are up to date on your shots. If you're visiting to a place where you're at danger for selecting up an illness like malaria, you is probably prescribed preventative medicine, as properly. "humans should use the cdc internet site for advocated vaccines with travel or see a travel health facility," recommends dr. Christina bowen, a board-certified integrative own family medication medical doctor.

4-Avoid Ice

In case you're going to a place wherein you have the motive to be concerned approximately the water quality, ensure to order your liquids with out ice. Even after freezing, tons of the micro organism and different contaminants inside the water, along with lead, will nonetheless remain. "do no longer order ice if the water's in question," says Dr. Bowen. "and most effective drink bottled drinks."

5-Get Up Periodically Throughout Your Flight

In case you're in for a protracted flight before you reach your vacation spot, ensure you get up periodically to stretch your legs.

"it's far critical to break up long plane rides or long vehicle rides via getting up often to move round and stretch. This could assist decrease your danger of blood clots. It could also save you again from aching after you have been slouching for hours within the equal role in a tiny seat," says Dr. Jasmine Marcus, DPT.

6-Load Up On the Right Vitamins

Want to reduce your risk of getting sick even before you touch down? The right supplements can help. "I always take a bit of vitamin A and vitamin D before boarding a plane to improve my immune function," says Dr. Nayak. 

7-Add Some Probiotics to Your Routine

While you can't always control the number of illness-causing bacteria in your environment while you travel, you can control how your body responds. "While on vacation, I always up my dose of probiotics to make my body less friendly to invading bacteria!" says Dr. Nayak.

8-Skip the Booze on Your Flight

While having a cocktail to ease the stress of your flight may seem appealing, if you want to avoid getting sick, it's best to abstain. "I advise strongly against drinking alcohol while aboard a plane! I know it's tempting to get your vacation started but it only contributes to dehydration," says Dr. Nayak. Worse yet, alcohol can contribute to jet lag, leaving you sleep-deprived and at greater risk for illness.

9-Get Plenty of Sleep

While it may be tempting to stay up and explore, getting a good night's rest when you arrive at your destination will reduce your likelihood of getting sick in the long run. Researchers at the University of Washington have discovered a link between sleep deprivation and a suppressed immune system, so make sure to catch those Zs whenever you can.

10-Stick to Your Exercise Routine

Suppose you can skimp on exercising simply due to the fact you are on excursion? Assume once more. Researchers at the college of illinois, urbana-champaign have located that exercising can lessen the chance of developing breathing tract infections and shorten their duration, so ensure you're not skipping the gym.

11-Bring Mosquito Netting

If you're traveling to an area with a high risk of mosquito-borne illness, make sure you pack mosquito netting, recommends Dr. Bowen. Not only will this help you reduce your risk of these potentially-deadly illnesses, knowing you have an extra layer of protection may also improve your sleep.

12-Load Up on Vitamin C-Rich Foods

The proper snack can make all the difference in how wholesome you are—and stay—while journeying. Flip to nutrition c-wealthy foods, like citrus fruit and bell peppers, to maintain that immune machine going robust. Researchers at the University of Otago in Christchurch, New Zealand have located that nutrition c now not simplest boosts immune function, assisting folks who load up on it lessen their threat of turning into unwell but also enables shorten the period of positive breathing ailments.

13-Cover Up

Preserving your pores and skin covered while you're on a  journey permits you to avoid serious sunburns that could in any other case sideline you. "put on defensive apparel, like long sleeves and pants which have a breathable cloth, in hot regions," suggests Dr. Bowen.

14-Increase Your Fiber Intake

One clean way to hold yourself healthy while you journey? "get masses of fiber!" says dr. Nayak. "I suggest eating as plenty of clean fruit and vegetables as you may even as on holiday unless you are involved approximately infection! A breakfast of clean fruit with a chunk of protein is first-rate as you may be imparting your body with diet c and other minerals and vitamins that useful resource immunity."

15-Stick to a Nutritious Diet

Maintaining good health while you travel starts somewhere surprising: your gut. "Proper nutrition with a focus on good gut health will help our immune systems," says Dr. Bowen. Fiber-rich foods, as well as ones rich in probiotics, like yogurt, pickles, and kimchi, will all help feed your healthy gut bacteria, boosting your immune system in the process. 

“ Vacation is all about relaxing, but for many people, travel is a stressful experience in and of itself. Unfortunately, if you find yourself stressed out on your trip, you may be at greater risk for illness.“ so relax and enjoy your moment.

[ministryofreviewsme-blog]

How to maintain home appliances – tips and tricks

Large appliances such as cooking ranges, refrigerators, air conditioners, washing machines and dishwashers are expensive, which makes repair and maintenance of home appliances an essential part of household chores. Otherwise, these appliances will stop functioning the way they should, and sooner or later, one will need to replace them. By taking care of these appliances with regular cleaning and maintenance, one can be assured that they work efficiently and save on electricity and repair costs in the long term.

Small kitchen appliances such as mixers, coffee machines and toasters also need to be cleaned, but their care and maintenance are more straightforward than that of large appliances. By cleaning them as soon as one uses them, the kitchen appliance maintenance routine is simplified, and they will require repairs less often.

If you need professional tips on how to maintain home appliances, read on to discover some simple maintenance routines that you can regularly undertake so that the appliances run without requiring major repairs for years, thereby ensuring that your daily schedule isn’t disrupted too often. Today, we cover some simple home appliance maintenance tips that anyone can follow to keep the home running smoothly.

Home appliance maintenance tips for the Refrigerator

Every home has at least one refrigerator in the kitchen as it’s something one can’t do without, whether it’s to keep food ingredients fresh or to chill water and drinks during the hot summer months. For old refrigerator models, which have the condenser coil exposed at the back, cleaning the coils every couple of months should be among the routine tasks on the list of repair and maintenance of home appliances in every home. In new models, clean the back of the refrigerator every few months to prevent the build-up of dirt to ensure that it continues to cool efficiently.

Among the other tasks that one should include in the list of chores for maintenance of electrical appliances is to ensure that the rubber seal along the inside of the doors of the refrigerator and freezer section is tight so that it prevents the cold air from escaping. Check the seal every few months and replace it if you notice cracks or tears. To prevent the seal from wearing out due to dryness, you can apply some petroleum jelly on it to keep it moist.

Maintaining and fixing appliances – The chimney and hob

Modern kitchens have built-in stoves, and cooker hoods, which reduce the daily maintenance involved in cleaning the backsplash tiles and counter as the powerful suction in the chimney ensures that most of the splashes and splutters are sucked and transported out of the kitchen. However, the hood should be cleaned regularly to prevent the build-up of grease and dirt, which reduces the effectiveness of its motor. Depending on the type of filter that the chimney hood uses, it should be removed and cleaned thoroughly at least once a month, if not more frequently.

The stove top is prone to collecting spills from cooking or oil splashes from frying. The best way to ensure that the stove or hob don’t need frequent repairs is to wipe spills and oil residue soon after cooking instead of allowing it to build up in layers that will make it more time-consuming to clean during the process of repairing and fixing appliances. Besides a daily wipe down of the stove surface and burners, to remove tough stains, detach the grids and burners and soak them in a mixture of hot water and soap for an hour, before scrubbing them clean.

Home appliance maintenance tips for the dishwasher

Most modern Indian kitchens have either a freestanding or a built-in dishwasher. To ensure the appliance runs smoothly and consumes the minimum amount of water and electricity, one should follow the maintenance tips listed in the manufacturer’s manual. In most cases, it includes removing the filter at the bottom of the machine to remove any food particles that are caught in it as a build-up could block the water from draining out. Besides this, the spray arms need to be detached and cleaned, ensuring that the tiny nozzles are clear and free from any food or soap residue that blocks the water from being sprayed on the dishes.

In addition to these large appliances that are commonly used in Indian homes, one should clean or service smaller appliances such as microwave ovens, electric ovens, water purifiers and water heaters by wiping them down regularly to keep the surfaces and the interiors free of dust and grime. The best way to get tips on cleaning and maintenance is to observe the repair professional at work when he comes to service the appliance. You can also ask him for tips on how to maintain the machine so that it lasts for many years without requiring replacement.

1. Proper cleaning

This point cannot be stressed upon enough. It is imperative to keep every household appliance in spic-n-span condition, especially if you live anywhere close to the sea. Since almost all appliances will have some metallic parts, it’s best to dry them off after cleaning them.

2. Regular maintenance

Just like your automobiles, even home appliances do better if they are given regular maintenance. If you can’t remember when certain appliances are due for their regular maintenance, then you can always add them to our Servify app with its original bills and reminders on Google, so you will always be ready with documentation when the service technician pays a visit.

3. Know the breaking points

If you know that your washing machine can take only 8kgs of load, then don’t ever push it beyond that limit. Every appliance is carefully stress-tested and made with certain limitations. No brand has any magic formulas to create home appliances that can withstand any kind of abuse. Also, if any appliance needs the bigger 3-point plug to work, ensure there is an outlet which can accommodate that requirement. Workarounds for appliances like a clothing iron, used only for a few minutes a day is still okay but any appliance which is running for an entire day should never be used in such a manner.

When unsure about how much usage you can squeeze out of any appliance, always err on the side of safety. That’s a good thumb rule to have whether it is the new smart washing machine or a juicer-mixer-grinder.

4. Avoid putting stress on functionality

If an appliance is made to do 3 tasks, then do not expect it to do a 4th task. Or a 5th. Devices are always created with a standard set of functions that will work optimally if used for those. Anything beyond the scope of functionality will result in an unhappy experience, so don’t push your devices.

5. Not fixing things yourself

Even though it’s a good idea to try your hand at a little DIY, it’s best not to try it with home appliances that need technical know-how. Especially larger home appliances like split A/C which have multiple units with a lot of parts which can malfunction, and trying to fix them might only make things worse.

[bleedingcoffee42]

Eureka AU - Part 9

Weeeeee...here we go.  Future Me is going to be so happy when she edits this and has to make up entire fields of shitpost science.  Hahaha.  

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ed's eyes shifted over to Mustang who now sounded a lot more like the boss they all knew.  His statement was an order, it wasn't a discussion starter, and Al was already reprogramming his tiny robots to do as asked.    He had to admit, it was good to feel like the condescending asshole was back to being himself because they genuinely needed him.

“That would avoid sending her into shock when you kill a massive load of invasive pathogens in her body.”   Knox said.  He was here to remind everyone his patient was human and this wasn't a simulation. Killing a large quantity of anything in her bloodstream could very well have consequences they were not planning for.   In theory a lot of things sounded good, but they were just desperately looking for any idea that could work at this point and that was not how he practiced medicine.   “I do like the idea of giving the virus something else to attack, that will give her own immune system a chance to fight back as well.”

“How are we going to get the nanites out of her system?”  Marcoh asked. “Now they're going to be twice as big, if not bigger, and she's already lost blood?”

Ed watched Mustang stand up, his focus seemed to have returned and his attitude noticeably changed.  He was back to commanding everyone's attention in the room, they all looked to him even though he hadn't made a sound to indicate he had an answer.  

“Chelation.” Roy said as if the answer was simple and had been there the entire time.   “Dr. Comanche has a project that is meant to extract metals from the blood stream, more than just the common treatment for lead and mercury poisoning.   It's been approved for medical use, extensive testing already.   Last proposal he submitted to me implied he was able to use it to extract valuable metals from any source.   He's trying to market it to me as a way to clean waterways of mercury, but his research paperwork tells me he's also looking to harvest more valuable non-toxic metals in the process.“

Ed saw where Mustang was going with this.  “So he has the equipment to synthesize an amino acid to do his bidding in his lab?”

Roy pulled his keys out of his pocket and held them up.  “Shall we?”

Ed smiled and together they left Al's lab to go take what Comanche had available.  Under any other circumstances he would be delighted they were pillaging his colleagues labs and utilizing the incredible array of resources in this building for good.   Right now he was just happy it was here and they were able to take advance of years of research to save someone they all held dear.   He ran over to the elevator to hit the button and open it for them both to head to the next floor. “So what tipped you off about Comanche?”

  “He clearly doesn't think my field of Thermodynamics includes equilibrium thermodynamics because he might as well have highlighted all the documentation of his side project in the proposal he submitted to me.”

“Not to defend the guy, cause he's a dick, but you are notorious for not looking at paperwork.”  Ed reminded him.  Mustang looked over at him and smiled, a smug smile, that made him think that that was a ruse.   The asshole did read everything.  

“In this instance, I thought it best to catch him harvesting his retirement income from the polluted streams instead of trying to prosecute him based on theoretical research that not judge is going to understand.”   Roy replied.  

“Or let him collect next years budget for you since his inventions are contractually property of the government while he's working in this facility.”   Ed countered.

“You have no idea how much this place costs to keep running.”  Roy said and the doors to the elevator closed and they went up to the next floor.  “You especially cost a lot of money.”

“We might not have to beg for Congressional pocket change if you spent more time being a scientist and less time as a politician.”  Ed said to him and Mustang narrowed his eyes at him.  

“There is honestly nothing good that will come from any projects I create with my specialty.”  Roy said.  “I've come to that conclusion long ago.  I'll do more good filtering what the government sees and receives from Eureka.”

“Like the flame-thrower gloves you keep in your desk?”

“Stop breaking into my office.”   Roy hissed as the bell dinged indicating they were on the next floor.   Ed snorted, as if it was his right.   Fine.  He'd put an end to that.  “I have sex with my wife on that desk.”

“What the fuck, Mustang?”

Roy smiled and stepped off the elevator and walked down the hall to Comanche's lab, room 047.   He unlocked the door and turned on the light.   Together he and Ed started turning on equipment and looking for what they needed.  “Comanche used his biological advancements in the field to get himself hired here, now he's focusing on environmental uses for his research.   I suspect he's doing that to not only gain favor within the community here, which is by nature rooted in finding cleaner and less invasive ways of doing things, but also to divert attention from what he may be doing with his original research.”

Ed was already diving into the files on the computer.    There was a lot of information here and it backed up Mustang's theory that Comanche was a really busy guy.   “Well that would explain how a dude his age can hop around on that peg leg like he's a ballerina.  He's using Chelation to clean his own  body of the wear and tear of aging.  I thought that was bullshit pseudo-science.”

“What's commercially available, yes..”  Roy said and turned on the machine that was used to synthesize the amino acids for the particular task needed.   There were profiles in the computer already for the standard uses of cleaning lead, mercury and arsenic from the body.   There was more though and Roy opened them up to see each to consider the formulas.   “EDTA for cleaning his clogged arteries and another for his joint arthritis.”

“Glad he's testing that on himself but I think keeping the obvious advances to himself is bullshit.” Ed shook his head.  “I see what you're saying about his environmental project.   Someone is a naughty alchemist, pulling lead out of the water and with it- gold.”

“He's probably old enough to have called himself an alchemist.”  Roy replied and heard Ed chuckle.   “I'm sure he's hiding it all so he can diversifiy his retirement fund,  quite the windfall when he takes this to the private sector.   I don't feel bad at all for breaking in here to use it for my own personal reasons.”

“It's personal for all of us too.” Ed said.  “Hawkeye is the best thing to happen to this town in a long time.”

“I'm well aware that if our little feuds ever came to taking sides that this town would have all stood behind her.”  Roy said, thankful that those days were behind them but also with a touch of nostalgia for the rivalry they had started with.  She made him work to outmaneuver her and that was something he couldn't say of a lot of people.  

“Alright, I have something promising here.   Let me upload Al's data and see about making us something. Metallurgy is a specialty of mine I got this.”  Ed said and connected his tablet to the computer and started to work his magic.  

“How is your brother going to handle us targeting his nanites and neutralizing them with this? I'm basically having you classify them as a toxin to have them broken down and flushed down the drain.”  Roy asked.   He didn't want to mention the Ultimate Eye tech they had thrown into the tank that was going to be destroyed with them.     He'd figure out that later.

“Al's not selfish, he understands that the sacrifice is worth it.   It's a setback, but he's patient.” Ed said and kept typing.   Heavy metals and elements were a breeze for him, he barely needed to focus to re-calibrate the program.   “Besides I'm sure he's discussing a catheter and collection bag with Knox as we speak.   Nothing gets flushed down the drain.”

“Riza will be thrilled to hear he's called 'dibs' on her piss.   Life in Eureka never ceases to keep her guessing.”  Roy said and saw data being transferred to the machine he was staring at.  Ed was fast.    He looked at the time and realized it wasn't even midnight yet.  It felt like they had been here forever, that he'd lived a few lifetimes between carrying Riza into the infirmary around 1800 and now.   This was a glimpse of her job, what happened when he was away.   This was why she was so adamant of being read in on everything that had the potential to go to hell, because when it did it was a race to stop a catastrophe.   They played on a whole different playing field here, science without regard to established rules and so often bordering on playing God. When it went wrong, it went horribly wrong.  They had so much they still needed to talk about and he hoped he got the chance.

“She'll be pissed.” Ed snorted and Mustang shot him a look.  “She hates sitting out.”

“That she does.”   Roy said and looked at the screen.  They were ready to begin synthesizing the next step in the process.  

[imjustthemechanic]

Our Own Demons

Part 1/? - A Bolt from the Blue Part 2/? - A Different World Part 3/? - Stark At Home Part 4/? - Pot Roast Night Part 5/? - Space-Pie Continuum Part 6/? - Energy Signature Part 7/? - Miss Potts Part 8/? - Bot from Beyond Part 9/? - Even the Odds Part 10/? - Miss Potts Arrives Part 11/? - Truth Hurts Part 12/? - The Third Reality Part 13/? - Thor and Odinson Part 14/? - The Tesseract Platform Part 15/? - Prime Suspect Part 16/? - Jailbreak Part 17/? - Shenandoah Part 18/? - A Hater Part 19/? - Reality B

What if Tony Stark really were the villain of the Marvel universe?  How would that work?  Tony himself is about to find out, as he battles his inner demons (and some outer ones, too) across a multiverse of infinite possibilities.

Fairfax drove him to the storage locker.  It did not appear to have been torn apart by a giant robot yet, which was good.  For much of the drive she kept her eyes straight ahead, but every so often she’d pause and glance at Tony as if she still couldn’t quite believe any of this was really happening.  Maybe she couldn’t.  Tony did have that effect on people.

Once they arrived, Tony checked on the suit.  It was still outside the library, and although more people were joining in the draw on Iron Man party – the décor now boasted a variety of signatures, some crudely-drawn genitalia, and a cartoon kid peeing on the arc reactor – it was intact.  The complement of cops had dropped to just two, who were amused by the impromptu public artwork rather than doing anything to stop it.  He’d leave it there for now.  As soon as it moved they’d try to follow it.

“I’d say I’ll give you a job at Stark Industries once you graduate, but you’d probably consider that selling out to corporate interests,” he observed, as Fairfax knelt to unlock the apartment.

“I don’t want to feed the murder machine,” she agreed.  “Anyway, you wouldn’t have anything for me.”

“Oh, no?” asked Tony.  His company was more diverse than most people suspected.  “What’s your major?”

“Musical theory.”

Tony thought about it a moment, then shrugged.  “I’ll consider that a challenge.”

Fairfax rolled up the door of the compartment and ducked inside, returning a moment later with a pink shoebox.  Inside was a pair of scuffed black chucks with hearts and skulls on the sides, and rolled up in a sock and tucked into the toe of one was a tiny cube of tesseract.

“Perfect,” said Tony.  “That’s perfect.”  He set it gently back into the box.  “Now, can you help me with a few more things?”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Mostly wiring.”  Tony needed something to feed the tesseract power into the mesh Faraday cage inside his suit.  Him and his double in the other reality hadn’t quite gotten that far yet, but really, an insulated conductor was all they needed.  Since this was only a tiny bit of tesseract juice, to be fed in slowly so as hopefully not to tip off the robot-maker, ordinary wires would do.  Fairfax got them from a pair of headphones that looked like they were vintage 1982 or thereabouts, and dug through the storage locker to find a soldering iron.

“Why do you have that?” Tony asked.  What were the odds?

“My Dad was into ham radio,” she replied.  “I’ve got a bunch of his stuff in there.  We used to build things together.”

Maybe she had skills that would be useful at Stark Industries after all.  “That sounds like fun,” said Tony wistfully.  He remembered the times he and his own father had worked on projects together.  Tony and Howard had never gotten along, but every so often they’d been able to build something.  Their favourite had been restoring the old roadster, but there’d been others… little things they could share instead of fighting over.

“Yeah,” she said quietly.  “I miss him a lot.”

They needed a computer to monitor the energy transfer, and to impart the proper frequency to access the robot-builder’s universe – Tony had been able to get that, fortunately, from the remains of the robot itself, and he and Dr. Foster had used it to avoid patching into that universe by mistake.  SHIELD had a special computer for it.  Tony and his counterpart, when they were still trying to keep the whole thing a secret, had planned to use a tablet.  Lacking anything better, Fairfax gave Tony her mobile phone, which he took apart and re-assembled into something that would work better for his purposes.

“JARVIS,” he said quietly, “please send Miss Cadwallader a… she won’t want a Starkphone.  Make it a free iPhone, would you?  Make sure it’s the newest model.”

Done, Sir.  FedEx will have it at her door the day after tomorrow.

“Thanks,” Tony murmured.  He put the screen back on the phone and turned it on, nodding as the screen came up with a prompt.  “Got that software uploaded, JARVIS?” he asked, louder this time.

Compiling now, said JARVIS.  We will have to perform a number of checks of the sytem before we can allow the tesseract energy into the suit.  We don’t want to risk a reaction with your tissues, or Miss Cadwallader’s, like the one you described.

That meant calling the suit, which would lead the cops to them.  “How long is that going to take?”

I estimate six minutes and forty seconds, said JARVIS.  The phone’s processors are not very fast, and even with the suit’s onboard computer to take some of the load, there are…

“Terabytes of calculations, I know,” said Tony.  “Get on with it.”

The suit took off, disrupting the artistic efforts of somebody who had been drawing a much more realistic penis and testicles on the codpiece, and arrived at the storage locker a moment later.  Fairfax stared at the additions to the paint job, then reached into her pocket only to be disappointed when she remembered Tony had taken her phone apart.

“The Met is gonna be pissed,” Tony noted.  “All right, let’s get started.”

Tony plugged the phone into a panel on the back of one gauntlet, and he and Fairfax started connecting the wiring.  They used a plastic keychain ring as a safety key, and soldiered the headphone wires into the mesh where a sliding panel could expose it at the backs of the knees.

“Are you sure this is gonna work?” asked Fairfax.  It seemed to be dawning on her that she was dealing with forces far, far beyond her comprehension.

“I invaded a terrorist base in Miami using stuff I got at Home Depot,” said Tony.  “I think I can make an interdimensional portal with junk out of your storage unit.”

She clearly couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not.

Within a few minutes, Tony could hear the sirens.

It was getting on for dinnertime and he had started to wonder if he’d have time to eat before heading off to his third reality in the past few days, but evidently he was just going to have to hope they had decent pizza when he got there.

“JARVIS,” he said.  “How are those calculations coming?”

Two minutes and forty-two seconds, Sir.

“It’ll have to do,” Tony said.  If anybody ever asked him what was the worst part about being a superhero, he thought, that was what he was going to say – you were always running out of time.

Tony opened the suit and slipped inside, while Fairfax hurried to push everything they’d gotten out back inside and shut the door of the storage compartment.

“Don’t worry about your stuff!” Tony told her.  “Get ready to pull the ring as soon as JARVIS says it’s okay!”

“I don’t want my things confiscated!” Fairfax protested.  “I should never have said yes!  Now I’m an accomplice and I’m gonna get arrested right along with you!”

“No, you’re not,” Tony said.  “Give me the ring and get out of here.”  He would tell the cops he had broken into her locker and stolen things… but no, it was already too late.  Headlights lit up the dim yard of the storage unit, with the sun already having dipped behind the buildings, and red and blue lights flashed as police piled out, guns in their hands.  Tony thought fast, then grabbed Fairfax’ collar and pulled her close, putting an arm around her neck from behind.  He felt her stiffen in terror.  She was probably wondering if this had been his plan all along.

“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered.  “Just pull the ring when I say.”

“Put your hands up!” a policeman announced.

More service weapons, Tony noticed.  Those would have about as much effect on the suit as the bugs that got splattered across the leading surfaces of it at low altitudes.  He rolled his eyes and raised the faceplate of the helmet.  They needed to see him for this part.

“Nobody move!” he ordered.  “I have a hostage!”  Fairfax would suffer fewer consequences if they thought she was a victim, rather than an accomplice.

The cops paused in their advance and exchanged some glances.  They hadn’t been expecting to negotiate.

“How are we doing, JARVIS?” asked Tony.

Twenty seconds, Sir.

The cop in the lead stepped forward.  “Stark,” he said, “you’ve got nowhere to go but up, and if you do we have helicopters waiting for you.  Let the girl go, and give yourself up.”

Checks complete, said JARVIS.  You may commence at any time.

Tony banged the faceplate down again.  “Pull it,” he told Fairfax.  “JARVIS, as soon as I’m gone, open all segment connections in the suit.”

Of course, Sir.  Your flair for the dramatic has always served you so well where law enforcement is concerned.

“Bye, guys!” said Tony.

There was a sizzling sound and a coppery taste as Fairfax pulled the ring free, letting the tesseract into the suit systems.  Then, once again, a shriek of static and a whiteout.  The police would see the suit spark and fall apart, leaving it in empty pieces on the ground next to Fairfax – letting it go to bits would also keep it from being utterly destroyed if the transit disgorged another killer robot.  Hopefully, Rhodey would step in to look after Fairfax herself, but if she did get arrested, at least it would be hard for the people who’d killed her professor to get to her in jail.

The white faded to blackness, and Tony dropped heavily into another suit.

Or… was it a suit?  It was definitely suit-shaped, but it didn’t seem to have any systems active.  Instead of being freestanding in a display case, or flying on a mission, it was suspended in a dark hangar, dangling from a set of robotic arms.  No display came on, so Tony could only see the outside world through a narrow slit, which showed him vague moonlit shapes of stacked crates and lumpy machines covered with tarps.  If the SHIELD storage facility had looked like it might contain the ark of the covenant, this place seemed like it might have a flying saucer and a couple of dead aliens in it somewhere.

Tony wiggled a little, but the suit wouldn’t open – it only bounced a bit in the grip of the robot arms.  “JARVIS?” he asked warily.

Oh, hel-lo, said a voice.

Tony looked up sharply, even though the voice was clearly coming over a speaker instead of out of a mouth.  It wasn’t JARVIS’ voice, though, nor was it the feminine voice of JANIS from the other reality he’d visited.  This was a male voice at the low end of tenor, with an unpleasant resonance under it and a flat American accent with just a hint of Boston.

“Who’s there?” asked Tony.

Not JARVIS, the voice replied, amused.  I didn’t believe him when he said you still used JARVIS.  Don’t get me wrong, nice guy, but an outmoded antique.

“And you’re the improved model, are you?” asked Tony.  “I don’t think I like an AI that doesn’t respect its elders.”  He tried to struggle again, but even though it was now plain that the system knew he was there, he didn’t get any results.  “Let me out,” he said.  “That’s an order.”

He expected obedience.  When he told JARVIS that’s an order, it was a signal to the computer to do as he said at once, without any sarcastic comments or unwanted advice.  This machine, however, said nope.  Not even a polite no, Sir, or I’m afraid I can’t do that, Dave.  Just a casual, slightly drawled nope, as if the computer considered this whole thing a joke.

“What do you mean, nope?” Tony asked indignantly.  “How about I’m your creator and you do what I damned well say?”  It had worked with JANIS.

Nope, the AI repeated.  You can wait until Daddy arrives.  Hang out.  The robotic arms holding Tony above the ground jiggled a little, to emphasize the joke.

“You don’t get to tell people no,” Tony said.

Sure I do, said the computer.  The real Tony Stark has a node implanted in his brain that allows me to stay in direct contact with him at all times.  Much more elegant than that little hearing air you’re wearing.  I know exactly where he is and what he’s thinking, and he’s not in the transfer suit sputtering impotently at me.  I’ll let you out when he wants me to.  Not before.

And that, the tone of voice said, was final.

[page-of-tales]

Rough Draft: Funeral for a MUEL

Genre: Science Fiction, HFY 

Based off of roomba empathy and EOD robot attachments.

3k words, feedback appreciated

This is a short story from a larger universe I am developing.

The Tok’ro system was a non distinctive system within the Jik’an Empire. A Class F star, with a few moderate sized exoplanets in orbit with an asteroid belt hovering at the far reach of the star. Named by an explorer nearly a century ago and nearly completely forgotten. Unexceptional in every way it still had one planet within the habitable zone. And thus it was secretly colonized by an independent faction of the Jik’an Empire some 60 standard cycles ago. The Lassarn as they called themselves were something of a spiritualist convent of the minimalist nature. They rejected the doctrines laid out by the Empire and often suffered persecution as a result. Seeking to explore freedoms heavily restricted under conventional rule the Lassasrn colony led a quiet and simple existence. The simple lifestyle were only a threat to those who deemed it.

It was only a matter of time before the colony was discovered by the Jik’kan EMpire. The small colony would come under fire as the Jikan Empire moved to crush the dissidents under the guise of ensuring national security. As the military forces moved into the system one of their first targets was a small mining base on the outer fringe of the system. To their chagrin this tiny base lodged in a random bit of floating space rock resisted the invasion forces. Successfully, hiding itself in the dense ring of asteroids. Placing asteroids to block out the bigger capital ships so that their mining frigates could pounce on fighter craft. The losses were small, and it was the delay that was vexing for the Empire. It was after the miners had cored several capital ships with mining laser drones that reinforcements were called. Elite Jik’kan shock troops swarmed the base in a frontal assault. Easily overwhelming the defenses and reaching the elusive mining base.

It was only after they stormed the base, slaughtering everyone aboard, that they realized their mistake. The crew of this mining base was of mixed races. Most notably several dozen humans.

Even though the system had been blockaded, news of the massacre got out. The outcry from human held sectors was immediate and loud. The abuses of the Jik’an Empire had long been a contentious point in the interstellar community but as it was an internal matter outsiders could only voice discontent. Yet the massacre of the miners provided the humans the excuse to do something about it. Proclaiming their intent to protect human lives in Tok’ro the humans made a declaration they would support Lassarn independence.

Battle Leader Luk’Ta was well into his yellowing years. Patches of yellow scale an indication to his age. He was a Lassarn, his scars from his removed cybernetics a sign of his faith, as well as an indication of his past. Of the people on this planet he was one of the fewest, and certainly the oldest to have military experience. Though his experience only cumulated to that of a First Follower he had been given the position of Battle Leader to lead in the defense of the Lassarn. It had been a losing battle. The Jik’kan soldiers were better trained, better equipped, and more numerous. The only advantage Luk’Ta knew they had was to disappear into the lands they knew so well. Fighting from shadows. But now it was time to emerge and strike back.

WIth that thought in the back of his head Luk’ta looked on at the blazing wreckage of a Mech. What had been a hulking nightmarish entity pursuing his troops across the mountains now burned fiendishly after being brought down in a hail of rocket fire. He would normally feel proud about defeating a war machine of the Empire but the victory wasn’t truly his. If it weren’t for the arrival of the humans and their weapons they would never had brought down the mechanized terror, but rather been hunted to the very last.

The humans, there were only seven of them, had distributed over a dozen dumbfire rocket launchers to his soldiers, most of whom were volunteer civilians before all this, before leading them to where the Mech had been lying in wait. Surprising it in an ambush the barrage of firepower quickly destroyed the monster. It was entirely thanks to them that the Mech had been destroyed with no losses. Letting go of his wounded pride he turned to his First Follower Kil’Ro.

“Where are the human’s?”

“They say they are burying a comrade.”

“They took a casualty?”

“No… it seems one of their robots was destroyed.”

Luk’Ta looked over to where the humans had gathered. He didn’t know much about their culture but as a fellow warrior he wondered why they seemed to mourn the loss of a machine.

SRT 3 was a specialist recon tactical squad of seven soldiers who were trained in conducting ground recon and hunting high value tactical targets. On Tok’Ro that meant hunting down Mechs. Mech designs varied from species to species. But in general they were large advanced war machines of significant tactical value. The Jik’kan Mech was a standardized 2 story machine with it’s own shield generators and weapon platforms capable of striking targets in orbit. It moved by a mix of thrusters and spider legs, though it moved at a low speed. It’s design was meant to facilitate an ability to drop small fortresses from orbit onto an enemy territory capable of withstanding counter attacks while at the same time supporting reserve forces.

The Jik’Kan empire had deployed over a thousand 2 story war machines across the planet. Spreading them out to cover all parts of the planet. Given the risk the Mechs posed with their ability to strike targets in orbit, Command had decided that specialist teams would have to create a gap in the defensive net before they could bring in the fleet for support.

A couple of the alphabet soup squads were picked for the job. ODSTs, SRTs, and even some companies of VSTs. Now the odds of sending infantry behind enemy lines were historically very low. Paratroopers of the old era faced many of the same problems the modern drop troopers did. Even with exo suits, infantry could only carry so much gear. And they often burned through what ammunition they carried quicker than a firecracker. Resupply was difficult and without fire support infantry squads could only do so much on their own. Yet a problem of this scale merely breeds an innovation to match it. The logistics of sending an infantry squad deep behind enemy lines to destroy heavily armored and defended Mechs was one solved with a pack animal. A mechanical pack animal.

The MUEL or Mobile Unmanned Equipment Loader has often been referred to as a mule. Like it’s earthly counterpart the MUEL is small cargo carrier. With 4 walking limbs that move a frame capable of carrying a heavy payload and a 12 lb sensory box unit on one end it strongly resembled a creature from the Equidae taxonomy. Designed as an infantry support unit it is often described as the most sophisticated supply crate R&D could come up with.

Despite its inglorious status the MUEL has a number of features that have kept it in production. It can move smoothly over uneven terrain, sprint quickly through open ground. On smooth ground the MUEL is able to extend wheels and reach speeds of up to 90 mph able to keep pace with mounted infantry. It lacks any offensive armaments. For defense it has a couple inches of ceramic armor and a Tier 4 neural net tied to it’s sensory receptors. It’s net is just advanced enough to understand verbal commands and counter basic ECM. While normally it functions on an autonomous mode it can be controlled with either voice command, or a PAD. The MUEL’s significance was in its performance of a singular function unaided with no complex training required to operate.

SRT 3 had started calling the MUEL assigned to them as Shrek. An inside joke, but the moniker stuck and the MUEL adapted to respond to it. Shrek was a constant companion to the squad. It followed them around base like a faithful dog. And on missions it would trot up to them after they had landed, ready to go. And at night it could help stand guard, electronic sensors cutting through the darkness. After missions they maintained it, changing out broken parts and damaged components. Giving it a wash to clean it of mud and grime.

Over time the squad had come to empathize with the dumb bot. They had hacked the OS so that it could play music and it would play tunes while they traveled to missions. They would pet it’s sensory unit. Taking turns to ride it like a horse. In a firefight Shrek would sprint up to them, dispensing ammo or providing cover. More than once they had loaded a wounded soldier onto Shrek to ride back to a medic.

Once while in retreat Shrek had taken 2 AP rounds through its body crippling both back legs. Unable to move the squad had been forced to leave Shrek behind. This had surprising effects on the squad who were lucky enough to retreat unscathed. The squad later joined the push to take back the area and after some searching found Shrek hiding in a bombed out garage. They had made repairs on the spot and brought back Shrek like a returning hero.

But now…

After unloading the extra rocket launchers from Shrek to the local militia it had been considerably lighter and practically prancing alongside their march. The Mech had been easy to find without unpacking the sophisticated equipment they brought with them, boldly broadcasting on an open frequency with hardly any masking. After scouting out its location the SRT and militia had prepared an ambush to catch the Mech.

The attack had gone off without a hitch. The Mech had burst out from cover when they painted it with a laser, it’s point defense had taken out most of the high flying missiles but the ones positioned below struck true.

Rocked by explosives it had toppled over onto the pre placed minefield which erupted in gouts of fire. Even with all that damage the crew of the Mech began emerging like insects from an agitated hive.

Most were killed within seconds, but one managed to get ahold of a hull mounted gun and open fire. Bullets that would shred a tank had spewed forth like fire. A pair of militiamen exposed to the fire line.

It was Shrek who saved them. Dashing the distance to intercede directly. It’s armor was instantly shredded, and it collapsed to the ground. The gunner had been taken out and the militiamen saved. But Shrek was gone. Its neural net components had taken several hits, it’s sensory unit detached by a round. It’s servos whined as some part of it’s programming tried to make it stand, but it was unable. The damage so complete and devastating.

SRT 3 had convened around Shrek. But the call was clear. The squad had offloaded the remaining supplies to the militia. A somber mood befell them as the squad leader held an incendiary grenade. Final words and memories had been shared, a can of oil poured over Shrek. First a spark and the a burst of flame as the remnants of Shrek caught fire. To prevent the technology and information from falling into enemy hands it had to be destroyed. A somber silence fell over the squad as they watched the flames devour the robot.

Shrek had upheld the mission, the least they could do was follow that through. With that the squad turned, more resolute than ever. The leader of the militia approached, now that the ceremony was over.

Luk’Ta glanced behind the soldiers at the burning robot. What remained was rapidly melting into slag. The humans seemed somber. They gave a nod to Luk’Ta as he approached. Luk’Ta approached the soldier in charge. These humans battle armor made them all look practically identical but Luk’Ta had learned to pick out the leader by his stance. The leader turned to the others and gave a few instructions and 5 of them walked off to perform their duties. The human soldier and companion turned to give Luk’Ta their attention. Luk’Ta glancing again at the flaming robot spoke slowly so the translator would pick up.

“I am sorry for your loss.”

The leader barked, a gesture of humor. Humans seemed to find humor in many things, even in war.

“I guess it must look like that.” The human leader, paused looking back. “It was just a bot.”

“It saved my people.” Luk’Ta pressed.

“That was lucky. I’m glad they are alright.” The human leader said waving the matter off. He spoke to his companion who held a projector to the ground. A map of the region was displayed with a number of markings. Luk’Ta was still unfamiliar with most of the designations humans used but he had learned a few. He pointed to a cluster of triangles.

“This is us correct.”

The human leader nodded, then catching himself spoke, “That is correct. So far all targets have been cleared, which makes for about 70% of clearance. The fleet will be arriving soon to take advantage of that.”

The projector flashed to another image of the system. The human leader drew a line from a point in space to the region some distance south of where they were on the planet.

“The landing zone is approximately here. Command doesn’t expect there to be any complications in engaging with the fleet in orbit. But we still have to clear out the remaining Mechs in the AO, area of operations.”

Luk’Ta shook his head in acknowledgement, this was all review. The human paused briefly before continuing, the display flickering to the continental map again.

“We also have reports that the evacuation corridor has been set up so you can start ordering your people to evacuate.” The human leader drew two lines in the dirt indicating the safe path created by the ODSTs. “Command has suggested that the militia would be best suited for helping civilians evacuate.”

“What about the remaining Mechs?” Luk’Ta knew from experience that even a few Mechs could wreak havoc on the landing forces and the evacuation.

“We’ll hunt them down, Command has made evacuation a priority and we need to do it quickly.”

Luk’Ta shook his head this time in agreement. The presentation disappeared as the soldier pocketed the projector.

“We can lead you to the rally point, we should march in 10 minutes.” The human leader turned to go. Luk’Ta watched them leave, behind him he heard his First Follower approach.

“Can we trust them?”

It was a question that had lingered on the Lossarn’s mind ever since the humans had declared their support for their cause. It seemed absurd that the humans would risk going to war for strangers over the death of just a few miners. To be accurate there were humans on Lossarn as well, but the lengths they were going to were far beyond a simple rescue of their own kind. The humans were no friends of the Jik’kan, but that didn’t make them friends of the Lossarn either.  The logical conclusion was that humans shouldn’t be helping the Lossarn so there had to be some reason.

Some had suspected the humans wanted the system itself. But the plan they proposed was an evacuation of the colonists to human space, to entirely abandon the system. They would be resettled far from the Empire once a suitable home could be decided on. It was an entirely gratuitous action. The Lossarn had no wealth, or valuable technology that the humans would have wanted. Nor had there been any significant contacts between the two. It was a conundrum that had stoked some resistance to the human’s plan. And Luk’Ta had heard some of the whispers behind closed doors among his men.

The flames of the robot pyre had died down, the smell of molten metal blended with that of the smoking Mech wreckage. Luk’Ta had come to realize something in that moment. The humans had exhibited grief for their robot, as though it were a living comrade. The ceremony had struck him as familiar because it reminded him of a military funeral. But for a robot. A bot, a dumb inorganic machine. A machine was a tool. To become attached to a tool seemed like the act of madness. Yet the humans had done so quite naturally. That was a level of empathy completely alien to Luk’Ta.

Empathy. The ability to understand another. Luk’Ta wondered to himself it that was why the humans were willing to commit themselves in defense of an entirely alien species. Why the human squad of elite soldiers had managed to ingratiate themselves with most of the men. Why trained killers laughed at Lossarn jokes, and managed to raise the mood from dire straits. Why they played with the children in the village, and joined them for meals. It seemed absurd. It would be absurd if that was the case. He decided to keep that conclusion to himself for now. Turning to face his First Follower he made a non committed gesture. What Luk’Ta didn’t know that he was largely right, though the background political motivation was to stick a hot poker in the eye of the Jik’kan military under the guise of a humanitarian action.

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All you need to know about your appliances to fight rising bills

2018 has been a year of increases: Singapore’s prominence on the world map, the retirement age, water prices, electricity tariffs… You get our drift.

And like you, we felt the collective groan that vibrated through our tiny island when a second electricity tariff hike for 2018 was announced recently. But, instead of complaining, let’s educate ourselves about our often-used home appliances, plus the ways in which we can reduce electricity usage and manage our bills better.

Check out the following measures you can take, ranked in terms of cost-effectiveness.

Switch it off!

Ease of implementation: 5 ticks because it’s the easiest to do, and it will cost you NOTHING upfront!

Your TV, computer, microwave, washing machine and clothes dryer all have a 'standby' mode, which means they're still consuming energy even when not in use. They’re smart ‘vampires’, sipping tiny bits of electricity every time you don’t switch them off while inactive. Over time, these electronics actually consume more electricity than you’d expect. Even your phone chargers can continue to draw tiny amounts of energy when plugged in and not charging anything, so Mum was right – Switch. It. Off. And that costs you NOTHING! On the flipside, standby power can account for up to 10% of your home electricity use, which translates to about $70 a year.

Pro tip: Power strips with an on/off switch are helpful in reducing phantom energy usage while still giving you the convenience of toggling appliances you may or may not need.

Cool down without increasing your bills

Ease of implementing: 4 ticks, only because Singapore is so warm.

We get it, Singapore is humid – and there’s nothing more satisfying than hearing the beep of the air-con as you retreat into your personal cold room. For those who cannot live without air conditioning, consider this: every 1°C increase in the thermostat setting saves about 10% of the air-con’s energy usage. Thus, the optimum temperature for energy-saving and comfort is 25°C and above.

For those looking to minimise their carbon footprint, ceiling fans are great for keeping a room cool while using minimal energy. Alternatively, for rooms without an air conditioner, you could opt for a portable cooler. Check out your local COURTS store to figure out what’s best for your house, be it full air-conditioning systems, fans or room coolers.

Pro tip: Invest in a bright-coloured curtain to keep the sun’s heat out of your home. In addition, curtains add flair to any room! And yep, custom curtains are also available at COURTS.

Don’t neglect the hard workers

Ease of implementation: Implementing this may take some skilful budgeting, so 3 ticks!

These are the appliances that never get a break. They run 24/7 to keep your food items cold or your wine at just the right temperature. Whether it’s the refrigerator, the wine chiller, the freezer or the water filter system you’ve installed, the energy consumed adds up quickly.

Simply check the tick ratings that feature prominently on tags when you go to megastores such as COURTS. It’s easy: The more ticks an appliance has, the less energy it takes to power it.

Pro tip: Factoring in maintenance and warranty plans into your budget from the get-go could save more money in the long run. For example, when you buy appliances, furniture and fittings from COURTS, look out for a one-stop service centre under “GURU”, a programme that provides maintenance services, instant replacement of faulty appliances, extended warranty plans and repairs all in one stop! This service is available at all COURTS stores, while selected services are available online.

Just right is the best

Ease of implementation: Because planning ahead may take some effort, 2 ticks!

Ticks aside, it’s important to consider the size of the appliance and how it fits into your home needs. As your family expands, don’t stick to a washing machine that is too small and requires multiple rounds to finish your laundry. It makes sense to get a larger model, which usually has a better tick rating than a smaller model, by comparing power usage with efficiency.

Pro tip: There are even ‘smart’ washers now, with functions like quick dry to save time and effort, especially for big families. Score!

You’re definitely not alone in wanting to economise on your bills – the growing demand for energy and water-efficient home products is proven by consumers’ behaviour. It’s heartening to know that COURTS has been increasingly growing its range of energy-and water-efficient appliances to meet the rising demand by Singaporeans. COURTS has even estimated that they have saved their customers around S$5 million in energy and water bills between 2017 and 2018.

With the widest range of products, same-day delivery and price promise, we know where we’ll shop at for home needs!

Deals

SAMSUNG GROSS 330L 2 DOOR FRIDGE

SGD $749

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PANASONIC 9KG FRONT LOAD WASHER

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ELECTROLUX 7KG/5KG WASHER & DRYER

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LG INVERTER SYSTEM 3 AIRCON+ INSTALLATION ALPHA PLUS

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DAIKIN INVERTER SYS 3 AIRCON + INSTALLATION (SMILE SERIES)

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via Going Viral Videos,

 I’m asked quite often, what’s the best way to lose weight, to do weights or to do cardio? And that is a fantastic question. But I’m asking a question, rather than answering it. Would you prefer to lose weight while you’re awake or sleeping? This answer is no brainier now so How To Lose Weight While On Bed Rest Even If You Feel Great. Obviously, this is while you’re sleeping. But how is that possible? While you sleep, how can you lose weight? Are you sure you need to burn more calories than you eat to lose weight? And surely, isn’t this all happening while you’re awake? In a slightly warped strategy, let me answer those questions. For so long now, compared to weight training, the biggest myth out there in the fitness industry is the myth that cardio is the best way to lose fat.       

                            Here, once and for all, I will put this myth to bed. As is commonly referred to by means of its raw definition “with oxygen” aerobic or cardio. Its counterpart, anaerobic, means “without oxygen” Your body uses lots and lots of oxygen to perform a long and sustained exercise, such as a 20-35 minute jog. On the other hand, weight training uses very little oxygen. (At work here, different energy systems). Actually, although I would not recommend it, you could even hold your breath and do a set of bicep curls. Your body utilizes oxygen to convert readily available carbohydrate stores (in the form of muscle and liver glycogen) into energy when you perform aerobic exercise. It’s a complex bio-chemical process, which is why it doesn’t kick in until after you have started around the 2-3 minute mark. (About when you get puffed up during the warm-up). You will need to replace the spent energy once you’ve completed your aerobic or cardio session. You have about 90 minutes after exercise to maximize the ability of your body to update your meal’s carbohydrates and store them in your muscles and liver before the storage ability of your body drops dramatically. If that energy is not provided in the form of a meal, your body will burn a small amount of body fat reserve to maintain itself and your metabolism will be dramatically slowed down if there is still no energy supplied. Therefore, the reason why you starve after exercise is not a great way to lose body fat. The energy used to perform the exercises, muscle and liver glycogen, is still the same during anaerobic or resistance-based training, but the process is simpler, allowing you to recover faster and go again. Tiny micro-fibre tears in the muscle tissue can be created by anaerobic or resistance training and your body must repair itself. You force your body to grow, to adapt and to repair it. You have not done weight training if you do not know what DOMS either means or feels like.

If you regularly do this form of resistance or anaerobic training, your body will continue to grow, repair, recover, and recover in an ongoing way.

It takes an awful lot of energy for your body to be able to do this. It actually takes so much energy that most of this repair, recovery and recovery is done by your body AT NIGHT while you sleep.

Oh, and here’s the kicker, if you don’t get that good night’s sleep, or get that meal into you after the workout, guess what, you can’t repair, recover, and recover, meaning all that hard work at the gym is going to be for nothing.

Now, as you read this, I can see all you women cringing and squirming in your seats. “But I don’t want big muscles!!!” This is where we put another myth to bed. Girls, you just don’t have enough of the most important hormones in your system to make your muscles large. (Testosterone, not unless you’re pre-op) Yes, you’re going to create micro-fibre tears (if you’re working hard enough) Yes, you’re going to be sore, Yes, you’re going to be toned and YES, during the recovery process, you’re going to burn lots of body fat, but, NOT, I repeat, you’re not going to create large muscles. COMPLETE STOP!

So, to summarize, if your goal is body fat loss and you want to quickly and easily burn truck loads of fat, IE WHILE YOU SLEEP, take some form of resistance training. If you enjoy flagging yourself for hours on end on cardio machines, eating truckloads of carbs to maintain the enormous amount of cardio exercises you do, all to burn and burn your bitty riddle amount of body fat, then keep doing what you’re doing.

Oh, and the last myth I’m going to shoot down is about body fat workouts for you. You know the ones where you exercise to burn body fat at a specific heart rate zone. Yes, it’s true that you will burn body fat if you work out in the “body fat zone” but what will your body use for energy for the rest of the day when you step off that machine? Muscle and liver glycogen are the answer.

Burn muscle and liver glycogen during the workout (i.e. resistance-based training) and burn body fat for the rest of the day and even longer, as I have already pointed out.

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