#april warm-up: taxed

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest April warm-up round.

Who Will Buy My Memories?

Prompt: Taxed | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Eddie Munson Lives, Established Relationship, Welcome to the 90s, Fluff, Corroded Coffin on the Road

"What do you mean, I owe back taxes?" Eddie asks, pressing the receiver of the payphone closer to his ear. As if that'll make him hear Steve differently.

"The letter says you didn't pay them. They're overdue, from, like, three years ago," Steve says, and Eddie's sure that's not right. He doesn't want to pay taxes, but they do. He pays under protest. Not, like, legally. But in his heart. Point is, he pays. Jeff makes sure they all do. For sure. Surely, Eddie's hasn't slipped through the cracks. Even if Jeff missed it, Steve would have caught it when he did their personal taxes. 

"Did you call them and ask?" Eddie asks.

"Call who?" Steve questions, and Eddie can picture Steve's face scrunched up. Can hear it, somehow. He really misses him.

"The IRS."

Steve lets out an exasperated sigh, "No. I didn't call the IRS for you. For one, why would I know what your tax fuck-up entails?"

"You do our personal taxes!" Eddie interrupts, but Steve keeps talking, ignoring him

"And two? It says right in the letter that for someone else to call, you'd have to submit, like, a signed statement. Granting permission to discuss it with a third party. It's the law, Eddie."

"I'll do it. I'll do it right now," Eddie says. 

"I'm sure you would," Steve laughs, "Is Jeff there? Or Goodie? Hell, Gareth? Somebody else that might know more?"

Eddie presses the speaker into his chest, and screams across the parking lot, just as Goodie's walking back to the van, arms full of snacks and a precariously teetering six-pack of beer. 

Goodie drops the stuff on the seat, then turns and puts his hands up, in a what the fuck question, and Eddie just waves him over, frantically. He can't shout across the parking lot about this.

Luckily, Goodie starts to saunter over, but he damn well doesn't get in a hurry about it, and as soon as he's within range, Eddie shoves the phone at him, not even telling him who's on the other end.

"Steve," Goodie says, and Eddie grins, of course Goodie knew who it was without having to ask.

And then Eddie watches as Goodie listens, nodding along. Eddie has shoved his thumb in his mouth, and is biting at his nail, nervous. 

Finally, fucking finally, Goodie speaks, "Jeff filed them. I'll have him call the accountant."

And that's it. No concern about Eddie for sure getting sent to prison for tax evasion. Nothing. 

Then, he's handing the phone back, and walking away, like he has no worries over Eddie's financial well-being.

"Well?" Eddie asks, like maybe Goodie told Steve something he didn't hear first-hand. 

"Jeff filed them," Steve repeats. 

"I'm going to prison. I always knew I'd end up there, I just didn't think it'd be for something as fucking lame as not paying my taxes. I was accused of murder, if you haven't forgotten. I sold drugs. I stole an RV, once-"

"Technically, I think I stole an RV," Steve counters.

"Please, like you could hotwire a car."

"I could now. I watched you do it."

And Eddie grins, because the banter is soothing, normal. He just misses Steve a whole fucking lot while they're on the road.

Steve keeps talking.

"Taxes will get ya. Every damn time. Just ask Al Capone," Steve says drolly, not taking this situation seriously at all. 

"Steve…"

"Oh, wait," Steve says pausing, suddenly serious, and Eddie freezes, "it says right here in the fine print that they're giving you the Willie Nelson treatment. Seizing it all. The furniture. Even your guitar. Selling it all off."

"That's not funny," Eddie says, but Steve sure is laughing.

"It's a little funny," Steve says.

"It's not. Who will buy my memories, Steve? Who?" Eddie asks, and Steve's laughing in his ear, but it's not funny. So, Eddie keeps talking, "And you're wrong. They didn't get Trigger. His guitar. I read it in the paper, and if you love me, you'll hide Sweetheart if they come to the house."

"Sweetheart is with you," Steve says. 

Okay, that's true.

"Well. Fine. But the thought still stands."

"Okay, I'll hide the best of your loot, and after that, I'll expect to see you on an infomercial, shilling an album to pay off this alleged debt."

"That wouldn't be very metal, shilling my art between Jack Lalanne and Ron Popeil."

"Then pay your taxes in full and on time," Steve snarks.

"I did!" Eddie argues. He's sure he did. 

"Does it say how much I'm on the hook for?" Eddie asks. It can't be that much, because while they're doing pretty good right now, they're not, like, rolling in the cash. Not yet. They're still traveling by van. A nicer van, sure, but still a van. 

"It doesn't," Steve says, but then his voice goes soft and kind again, "It'll be fine," he promises, "It's probably a small error. No big deal. Just. Don't ignore it. Okay? I'm officially putting this in the 'actually pay attention to' pile."

"I will. We will," Eddie promises. 

"Good. Now, tell me about South Bend," Steve teases, and Eddie looks around. Steve always asks, and Eddie always tells him something mundane, something true.

"Well. I miss you," Eddie says. "And someone drew a dick on the glass of the phone booth," Eddie offers.

"Is it a good dick?" Steve questions. 

"Not really," Eddie admits, "not as good as yours."

"Oh, the charm," Steve says dryly, and Eddie leans his head against the glass, against the Sharpie'd-on aforementioned dick. They only have tonight's show here in South Bend, and then another two days from now in Fort Wayne, and then they'll be home for a whole month. He can't fucking wait.

"Anything else of note? Besides the dick?" Steve asks.

"Well, it's in this state called Indiana. I'm not sure if you've ever been…" Eddie trails off. 

"Sounds familiar," Steve flirts and Eddie smiles.

They're almost home. Just a few more days.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

The title is a play on Willie Nelson's actual album he made to pay off his IRS debt: The IRS Tapes: Who'll Buy My Memories?

[corrodedcoffinfest]

Corroded Coffin Fest - April 15th - Masterlist

Big, big thanks to those who participated in this first warm-up round for Corroded Coffin Fest! Missed out? There'll be another chance on May 15th! Start working on your "Get a Job" submissions now, if you'd like to join in on the fun!

Color-Coded Ratings Key: General, Teen, Mature, Explicit.

Here are all the submissions from yesterday's prompt:

APRIL 15TH - TAXED

It's tax day. Do they need to pay their taxes? Is this a write-off? Or, are they just taxed from being on the road? Tax them.

is that tax fraud? by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: they’re just so stupid, and I love them, look Steve is here!

Who Will Buy My Memories? by @thisapplepielife | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Eddie Munson Lives, Established Relationship, Welcome to the 90s, Fluff, Corroded Coffin on the Road

I tell you folks, it's harder than it looks by @dreamwatch | Rating: T | CW: Language, description of injury, hospitals | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Exhaustion, Eddie Munson needs a hug, arguments, but it all works out, workaholic Eddie Munson

LET DOWN AND HANGING AROUND (CRUSHED LIKE A BUG IN THE GROUND) by @wormdebut | Rating: T | CW: Swears, Smoking, Angst | Pairing: None | Tags: Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, Freak

Corroded Coffin Fest will be back on May 15th for the second warm-up round! 🦇

[dreamwatch]

I tell you folks, it's harder than it looks

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest April warm-up round.

Prompt: Taxed | Word Count: 996 | Rating: T | CW: Language, description of injury, hospitals | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Exhaustion, Eddie Munson needs a hug, arguments, but it all works out, workaholic Eddie Munson

(So... I forgot to get something written before today, so this is a bit of a speed write and I hope I got as many typos and redundancies as possible. For anyone interested, the idea came from another fic I wrote a while ago, where you can see Wayne's POV.)

****

Kangaroos. That was the reason Steve had picked Australia to join the tour. Eddie called from every continent, trying to tempt him with far-flung locations, but in the end it was the kangaroos that got him. And thank god, because if he’d got the call that Eddie had collapsed on stage, or worse, saw it on the news, he’d be losing his mind right about now. So yeah, thank fuck for kangaroos. 

They’re holed up in a hospital in Sydney, trying to keep the press away from Eddie. Jeff and Ben hover near Eddie’s bed, Gareth standing as close to the door as he can, arms crossed and eyes firmly fixed on the floor. The atmosphere is uncomfortably tense.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that’s okay then. I mean, as long as you’re sorry—”

“Gareth,” Jeff interrupts. Always the peacemaker.

“Don’t ‘Gareth’ me, man. I’ve been saying for months, for fucking years, we need to slow down before one of us gets hurt. And here we are. But hey, I’m just the drummer, no one fucking listens to me. Or any of us for that matter. Just him.” He gesticulates at Eddie. 

Steve feels like an interloper and it’s a little uncomfortable; he’s got no desire to be the Yoko Ono in this situation but he’s not leaving until Eddie tells him to. His eyes drift back to Eddie who’s staring out into the Sydney skyline. The fierce bruise on the left side of his face has come out in anger now, gauze and tape covering stitches. It makes his heart fucking ache.

Steve had been there at the edge of the stage watching the show when Eddie wobbled and went loose-limbed, watched him just drop, the sickening snap back of his head as he hit the drum riser. Ben had got to him first, Jeff signalling for help, while Gareth stood behind the drums, frozen. He had looked terrified. Steve stood there watching helplessly, heart in his throat the whole time. 

Eddie’s eyes go wide with panic. “Shit. Wayne.”

“Taken care of,” Steve tells him. “Called him a few hours ago. He’s fine. Getting your room ready as we speak.”

“Press too,” Jeff chips in. “You don’t need to worry about anything, it’s all taken care of man.”

“Shouldn’t need to be,” mutters Gareth.

Jeff sighs, “Jesus Christ, man, will you quit it?” 

Gareth finally looks up, first at Jeff, and finally at Eddie. But there’s no anger there. Steve can see the worry in his eyes and he gets it. He’s spent years of his life worrying about bad things happening to his friends and being powerless to do anything about it. It fucking sucks. 

Ben puts his arm around Gareth, leading him outside. “Let’s go rustle up snacks, dude, I’m fucking starving.” 

Eddie picks at the edge of the tape holding the IV in the back of his hand. “Well, that went well.” 

“Hey,” says Jeff, shaking Eddie’s ankle to get his attention. “He’s not angry, okay? He’s just scared. We all were, but… you know what he’s like. He’s our sensitive little flower.”

A little ghost of a smile settles on Eddie’s lips and it unlocks something in Steve, eases the worry just a tiny bit. 

“Yeah, I know. I am sorry, you know? I didn’t want this to happen, man. I just… I just thought it was the right thing to do for us. The tour. All of it.”

Jeff sighs. “Listen, when we get back, a few things need to change. Firstly, we’re taking a fucking break. A long one. We’re all burned out.”

Eddie nods softly. “Of course.”

“And we are never doing a tour this long again. Non-negotiable. Strict date limits going forward.”

“Absolutely.”

“And one last thing.” Jeff shifts uncomfortably. “He didn’t say it the right way but… Gareth wasn’t wrong. About no one listening to us. To Phil, specifically, not listening to us.”

Steve knows Eddie has a near-pathological fear of losing everything, but he’s since learned that their manager, Phil, has preyed upon it, tapping into the fear, pushing for more albums, more interviews and appearances, and longer tours. And Eddie just can’t say no. “You never know when it will stop,” he told him once. 

Steve would love to get his fucking hands on Phil right about now. 

“He’s got to go.”

And Eddie agrees, just like that, because it’s Jeff. To the public, it’s Eddie’s band, but to everyone who truly knows them, it’s Jeff who keeps them together. It makes Steve smile to think about the nerdy kid from high school, comparing him to this man who stands at Eddie’s side in front of thousands, night after night, confidence oozing from him.

The door clicks open, and Ben wanders in with a Coke, Gareth slinking in behind him. Gareth shuffles forward and Eddie reaches up with his free hand, and Steve finds himself letting out a huge breath when Gareth takes it. 

“You scared the shit out of me,” Gareth says, softly.

“I know. I know man. I was an idiot.”

“Yeah.”

Steve is expecting a snappy comeback, but Eddie’s starting to wilt, and he’s struggling to keep his eyes open.

“I think we should let Eddie get some rest,” he says. “Long flight tomorrow.”

The boys say their goodbyes, and Steve pulls his chair as close to the side of the bed as he can manage. Eddie smiles at him, their fingers entwined.

“Close enough there?” Eddie says, smiling fondly.

“No,” he replies, smiling back. He never wants to let Eddie out of his sight again. “How you doing?”

Eddie drops his head back onto his pillow. “I feel like shit.”

“Maybe I’ll need to move to LA to keep an eye on you.”

A soft blush blooms across Eddie’s cheeks. “Maybe you do,” he says shyly.

“Go to sleep then. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

As Eddie drifts off, Steve thinks about how to tell Robin he’s moving to LA.

[medusapelagia]

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[epitome-of-words]

All I Think About is Palestine

All I think about is Palestine.

I sit at my desk at work,

designing buildings 

All I can think is

"70% of homes in Gaza don't exist anymore, they have been reduced to piles of rubble, flattened into the earth by the bombs and tanks of the Israeli Occupation Force"

All I think about is Palestine

I have a discussion

about schooling

with a childhood friend

I mention that 

I minored in Anthropology

All I can think is

"More than 200 heritage and archeological sites in Palestine have been wiped from the map - places of culture and historical significance that the next generation will never see."

All I think about is Palestine

I make myself dinner

in a skillet on my stove

It is not the onion

that is making me cry

I reach for the olive oil

and my hand shakes

All I can think is

"The world's oldest olive trees are burning, and their tenders scream because the olive trees cannot, and then their tenders burn too."

All I think about is Palestine

It is raining outside

I sit by the window

as it tips and taps

agains the glass

warm mug of something

in my hands

All I can think is

"It is illegal, for the people of Palestine to collect rainwater, it is illegal for the people of Palestine to own wells, it seems that to Israel it is illegal for the people of Palestine to be anything but thirsty"

All I think about is Palestine

I go to the craft store 

to buy paint

"It is a punishable offense for Palestinians to create with the colors of their flag - not even to paint a watermelon"

I pull on my favorite sweater

my alma mater's name

emblazoned across the chest

"Every Palestinian University has been bombed by Israel"

I go to the library

for books and to research

"60% of Bookshops and Libraries in Gaza have been decimated, desecrated, and destroyed."

A school bus drives by

full of children

"Many schools in Gaza are no longer places of education, and instead play host to occupying forces who tear up finger paintings and rip up essays, and decide this will be their next military base."

I hear the ambulance no actually

I hear a six year old crying

"I'm so scared, please come"

I watch a mother

put her child in a car seat

"A woman dragged her two children fourteen kilometers, nearly nine miles, in their car seats - do you remember that photo? I remember that photo"

I get my pay stub

fourteen dollars 

goes to my health insurance 

"In Gaza, children are being amputated, women are giving birth, men are undergoing surgery - and there is no anesthesia for any of them"

My birthday was in December

I turned 26

My brother's birthday is in April

He's turning 23

"Motaz just turned 25, Plestia just turned 22, Bisan was born the same year as me."

I pay my taxes

and scream into a pillow

"My money is being used to kill Palestinians"

My mom asks me,

why I don't post 

my makeup looks to Instagram anymore

"It will not help Palestine"

I write to my congressmen

- another shipment of arms goes to Israel

I call my senators

- they put me on hold

I make a donation

- the funds are frozen

All.

I.

Think.

About.

Is.

Palestine.

[fruitcoops]

If you wanted to write grumpy logan and finn/leo lovingly making fun of him until logan is no longer grumpy, you would do it so well and I would love it

Fic O'Ween Day 7: Pumpkin Spice, for the Cubs :) Kudos and thanks to @noots-fic-fests and @lumosinlove for fest details and characters!

“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy,” Leo hummed, nuzzling into the soft fluff of curls above Logan’s ear. A wordless grumble answered him and he smiled. “Like a kitten, getting all puffed up.”

“—fucking—taxes, mon dieu—”

Cranky French interspersed the muttered undercurrent. Leo wasn’t worried; Logan got loud and direct when he was angry. This was nothing more than the usual fussiness. “I made muffins.”

“—witchcraft fuckery—”

“With cranberries,” he coaxed.

Logan aggressively scribbled out a line on his notepad, but Leo felt him lean closer.

“You’ve been here for two hours, cher.”

He pressed a flat palm between Logan’s shoulders, rubbing gently over the tight muscle and warm skin beneath his shirt. It was one of Finn’s, he thought—a faded thing from the Strand in the pretty red that made his eyes pop. It might have been a gift from some point in their college years, but that was unlikely. Logan had always preferred petty theft from their closets to actually owning anything he liked.

Logan groaned under his breath and pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I’m going to commit felonies against the IRS.”

“Very American of you.”

“Get out of my apartment.”

“It was my apartment first,” Leo smiled into his temple, and sealed it with a kiss. “C’mon. Muffin time. You’re hangry.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t do your own taxes.”

“I can. It’s just that I have a boyfriend who offers to do them for me.”

Logan snorted. “Do you?”

“Mhmm.” He wrapped his arms around Logan from behind, bending slightly. “He’s real smart, too. Capable. Knows how to do math.”

“What a dreamboat,” Logan deadpanned.

“Yeah, you got it.” He was still tense in Leo’s hold, but it softened when Leo pulled his hat off and kissed the top of his head. “I have a thing for nerds.”

“Boo. Go away, I need to finish this.”

“You’re sure you don’t want a muffin? They’re still warm.”

“Not hungry.”

Liar, liar. “Alright. More for me, then.” He nipped the shell of Logan’s ear. “I’ll tell Harzy he’s got free reign.”

“Fine, whatever.”

Leo rolled his eyes and hoped Logan felt it. “Taxes aren’t due until April, baby.”

Logan’s pen gave a prompt clack. “Ouais, and if I put it off until then, you won’t see me for four days. Let me drown in my spreadsheets, please.”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

Logan grumbled something like never makes me happy, but if he wanted to continue making himself miserable, Leo couldn’t really stop him. He had already offered muffins; what more could he do?

He had only partially been telling the truth, anyway. One batch of the muffins was done. It was just that he tended to get excited when fall hit, and ravenous when hockey season started, and every recipe spontaneously doubled in his hands like a cornucopian miracle. Some people kept special daylight lamps around. Leo had a five-pound bag of Craisins and a free afternoon to go absolutely ham with the last bit of sunlight energy he could throttle from October. They all had their own methods of dealing with it.

He only burnt his fingertips a little while prying a muffin from the tin and popping it into his mouth in one bite, and considered that a win.

An hour passed without much change. Leo measured, Logan worked. Leo mixed, Logan groused. Leo doled out batter to (perfectly-lined) muffin tins, Logan scribbled away at his notepad and beat Google Calendar into submission. Finally, as the third tray went in, Leo watched him stand with a groan worthy of an octogenarian and wander stiffly down their short hallway. He smiled to himself and set the oven timer. The work would be done soon enough. If he popped a show on and got comfortable on the couch, he might even be able to tempt Logan away from his numbers into a pre-dinner snuggle.

Whistling echoed from the hall outside, followed by the jingle of keys. Finn was already kicking his shoes off when the door opened, clicking his tongue to the rhythm of whatever played in his earbuds. His face brightened when he saw Leo. “Sup, Butter?”

“Heads up.” A muffin sailed through the air and Finn caught it, barely. “Tremzy’s cheating on me.”

“Wh—” Finn gave a hard blink and glanced over his shoulder. “Is this—I’m going to walk out and come back in again. Wrong apartment. Sorry, cheating? Logan Tremblay? Are we talking about the same person? If you’re talking about me, I’ve made sure that joke is overdone.”

“Her name is Microsoft Excel, and she’s got to be stopped.”

“Oh.” Finn’s bafflement became a regretful nod as he joined Leo by the sink. “His first love. I see the problem.”

“He turned down muffins.”

“Damn, this guy sounds lame. Need a new boyfriend?”

Leo kissed his sideways grin and flipped the water on. “Not currently looking to fill that position, but I’ll keep you at the top of my list.”

Finn’s arms folded around his waist and gave a gentle squish. “You should let me do that, babe.”

“Just rinsing.”

“Hmm.” He felt a kiss through his shirt. “Been cooking all day?”

“Mostly. Reg called this morning and I’m going out with Bliz and Cole at five.”

“What, I’m not invited?” Finn asked with false offense.

“Goalies only,” Leo said with even falser sympathy.

“Reyes isn’t a goalie.”

“Well, we like him better.”

Finn’s indignant noise was stifled by a mouthful of muffin and Leo laughed, jumping at the light pinch to his hip where his shirt rode up. He let Finn shoo him away from the sink with a dishtowel and waited by the counter instead to admire the way he shoved his sweater sleeves up to his elbows.

The bathroom door opened and Leo watched Logan make his way back to the table, all grimaces and stretches, with a final jaw-cracking yawn as he fell into his chair again. The neckline of his shirt was damp, like he had washed his face. He took no notice of the sneakers by the door or Finn at the sink.

“Hey, Lo,” Leo called. “Gotcha something.”

“An accountant?”

Like you’d let anyone else handle this. “A treat.”

“Thought you made muffins.”

Leo caught Finn’s smile out of the corner of his eye and shut the faucet off, passing him the towel. “Nope, different treat.”

“What is it?”

“Guess.”

“Uh…” Logan trailed off, tapping his pen against the notepad. “I don’t know, what?”

“C’mon, humor me.”

“Give me a hint.”

Leo bit his lip against a smile and hooked his finger in Finn’s waistband, guiding him away from the sink. “Pumpkin spice.”

Finn had to turn his face into his shoulder to muffle a snort. Leo pressed three fingers over Finn’s lips, not that it would do much. Ahead of them, Logan’s shoulders relaxed. “You got me coffee? That’s nice of you.”

“Try again.”

“What—uh, bread. Pumpkin bread.”

“Sweeter.”

“Cake?”

“Sweeter.”

“…doughnuts?”

“You like it more than doughnuts.”

“Is it…like, Halloween candy, or something?” Logan sat back from the table and lifted his arms to adjust his hat; Leo caught Finn around the waist and hefted him off his feet, then plopped him with great ceremony into Logan’s waiting lap.

“Oh, hi there,” Finn laughed.

“Coucou.” Logan’s eyes crinkled with the force of his smile and he ducked his laughter into Finn’s neck. “Pumpkin spice, eh?”

“Apparently.” Finn shuffled into a more upright position and slung his arm across Logan’s shoulders, toying lightly with his mussed curls. “A little birdie told me you’ve been up to no good. Taxes, scowling, refusal of muffins.”

Logan’s cheeks darkened with a blush. He cast Leo a guilty look. “Sorry.”

“There’s a heavy punishment for neglecting baked goods,” Finn informed him. “We have to take you into custard-y.”

“Get off me.”

“And you have to pay a fine of a hundred kisses before five o’clock.”

Logan’s eyebrows rose with interest—his loose hold around Finn’s waist tightened. “Stay on me. Quoi?”

“This is serious business, Mr. Tremblay.”

“Who gets this payment?”

“Well, it’s a half-and-half deal.” Leo didn’t know how Finn kept his face so solemn. “Half to the lawyer—me, obviously—and half to the baker who was so cruelly slighted in this afternoon’s incident.”

“Do I have to pony up all at once, or can I make…” Logan nudged up against Finn’s cheek, a dimple just barely forming. “…a down payment?”

“I’m sure something can be arranged.”

“Hmm.” Their kiss was soft enough to make Leo’s breath stutter in his chest—just a whisper over Finn’s bottom lip that had him chasing more. Logan bumped their noses together. “Spicy.”

Finn all but melted into his chest. “You know it.”

Jade eyes darted over and fixed Leo in place. Logan cast a quick up-and-down look over him, then propped his chin on Finn’s shoulder and gave a small, close-lipped smile. “That baker better get over here so I can give him a piece of my mind.”

The countertop was oven-warm when Leo leaned back. “How much are we giving to charity?”

Logan blinked. “Seventeen percent.”

“What’s seventeen percent of fifty?”

“Eight and a half.”

Leo stepped forward and braced his hands on the back of the chair, bracketing Logan’s head. “Tip your local bakeries, Tremblay. You owe me fifty-eight and a half kisses.”

Confusion blossomed into the kind of smile Leo lived for. “Let’s call it an even twenty percent. I’m feeling generous.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Tsukikage Kazama Short Story

This is the last translation to make up for March (only four not five since i don't count a week because of my bday)... I'm probably just going to translate the rest of what I can for April...

Also I hate tax law. Taxes themselves are something I'm okay with to a degree since I'm probably more federalist and like health care and the idea of dental care, but looking through who knows how many statues and laws from the CRA for just one thing is something I wish I didn't subject myself to lol.

ANYWAY.

The story for this translation was originally published in B's-LOG 2019年11月号.

the last of these I'll be able to translate are the Souji one with the books, the Saito story with the flower in winter, the Harada story and the one for Souma.... i think those haven't been translated?

Hakuoki Tsukikage B’s Log 2019年11月 Kazama Short Story “Nagatsuki (長月)” [meaning the 9th month of the lunar calendar]

Translation by KumoriYami

"This was all that could be prepared."

"No, it's nothing. I should be the one apologising for forcing you to do this."

With a plate in my hand that I received from the hostess who bowed her head to apologise, I greeted her before going back to the room.

On our journey to Aizu, this was the only inn we could find.

The closer to the battlefield, the fewer people there were, and the once lively stores and inns tightly shut their doors.

This was something that had been realized after camping out several times, [though] Amagiri-san found that there was inn operating at the end of the road/street [not sure about the first half here].

(It was thanks to Amagiri-san...)

Chizuru sighed as she thought this.

"...Too slow."

Back in the room, Kazama-san had already put on his yukata and was relaxing as he looked out the window.

Ever since we left Edo, Kazmaa-san had been wearing simple western-style sleeves.

Although that really suited him, I still thought he was more attractive while wearing a kimono.

"Out of kindness, the hostess provided me with a choushi. What do you think about this?"

According to ChatGPT (since I could not find a response I liked through google): "In Japanese, 铫子 (choushi) is called "yakan" (ヤカン) which refers to a kettle or a pot used for boiling water or heating liquids, often made of metal or ceramic. It is commonly used for making tea or coffee, but can also be used for warming sake or other alcoholic beverages." T/N: the raw itself uses "铫子"

"Hmph… this sake is not to my taste, but if you want to pour it, I'll drink it."

In response to his arrogant statements, I smiled wryly and poured some sake for him.

I wasn't used to his behaviour before, but now I've completely accepted it.

(He is actually a very emotional person…)

I already know that now.

As I listened to the sound of insects in the distance, I poured sake into his cup.

In this private room [In private?], he was unexpectedly quiet, and was fond of silence, so I didn't have to force myself to greet him.

His posture as he looked up at the moon was so graceful, like the appearance of someone in a painting—

(What am I thinking...)

For some reason, I was now very concerned about Kazama-san's inner thoughts/opinions.

"It's almost the fifteenth night [Alternatively, this can be interpreted as "the night of the full moon" like in the Juugoyabana drama].

"This sake is no good, but I can it's not bad as a side dish to appreciating the moon."

In contrast to his sarcasm, his eyes were gentle.

"When you're satisfied and aren't asking for more, it's easy to get what you want. In this world, there are too many foolish fossils [term is for people out of date or have fallen behind] who have forgotten this."

His words penetrated deeply into my heart.

With my own eyes, I have witnessed what people who pursue profit and those who have robbed others to satisfy their own desires. I saw firsthand what that looked like to the state of my hometown.

If Kazama-san wasn't at my side, perhaps I wouldn't be able to endure it.

"...So, are you satisfied now?"

"What a foolish question."

The corners of his mouth curled into a smile at the me who was feeling shy.

"If you want me to feel satisfied, let me satisfy myself first… it is useless to have another's person way of thinking/thoughts fulfilled by someone else."

(...He truly is a gentle person.)

The words I heard were a comfort to me who was worrying about those still fighting, and those yet to fight.

As he looked up towards the moon again, and I silently thanked him.

---end---

[dooksofearl]

SQUEAK SPEAK

Monthly newsletter for Dooks of Earl Ferret Sanctuary Inc

Happy April and Greetings to Everyone!

Much excitement at our little rescue this month and I can't wait to tell you.

Thanks to my income tax check coming in our fundraising goal for between now and May 1st is only $768.00

That will cover

The rescues regular bills like; utilities ($280 on average since our HVAC is still out, but we are hoping someone is coming to fix it soon), and pet foods ($488). I have managed to raise enough to cover the other bills and supplies from my income tax check. And of course, none of this is for me personally nor do I get paid for the work I do. It's not about me, it's about these animals and making their lives amazing for however long they have left.

Other needs that the rescue has not included in this list are:

As always, Pine pellets from Tractor Supply Company, we go through about 30 bags a month.

The blue dishes we got last time will be added back to our list because they are working so well for our sweet seniors and tiny ferrets in helping them eat in a more natural position.

We still have a short wishlist with links to these items on Amazon. The pine pellets I just listed tractor supply gift cards because they don't sell the pellets through Amazon for delivery.

https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/dl/invite/63ZMinE?ref_=wl_share

I also want to remind everyone that you can pick us as your Walmart.com round up charity and that you can send gifts from our Walmart registry and Chewy Registry if you'd like.

https://www.walmart.com/nonprofits/7a69297c-7cb2-4cb9-a70f-3eaedd738ef4/profile

https://www.chewy.com/g/dooks-of-earl-ferret-sanctuary-inc_b103217538

We still need fence panels for an outdoor dog kennel yard if anyone has any locally they'd like to drop off. And if you are throwing out any 13 gallon kitchen trash cans or plastic bins of any size we would be thrilled to have them.

We currently have 11 ferrets in amazing foster homes so our population here is becoming very manageable for me AND we have 4 new volunteers!!!!! We are so happy to welcome Michael, his wife, and his mom to our team. They will be coming soon to help me get things back to tip top shape and I greatly appreciate it.

And an amazing girl named Michal who came yesterday and spent the day helping me. The ferrets were crazy about her and you know Keiko was too. The bunnies warmed right up to her but they are very friendly girls. Mr Maru gave her the tour till his house was finished then he had to go see what I had done and grab snacks. Cal the sugar glider, slept through it all. But what delighted me most was Mr. Spooky. Our shy, bite first ask questions later guy, went right to her and cuddled her. WOW He is still having a hard time with Justin not being here. Ferrets grieve just like us and he was really close to his dad the Ferret King. He gave me kisses and now this. It makes me so excited and emotional for him.

There was a minor set back for me medically as I have a new allergy, possibly to Stevia. Of course I try to do something good for my health and now I look like I have rolled in bees. If you don't know, this is not a surprise. Lol But I got some medicine for the hives and hopefully will be feeling much better very soon. Until then if you see me dancing against the doorway like a bear, just walk away. 😂

I'm through infusion 3 of 8. YAY! And I have a surgery consultation coming up finally so I am hopeful that it goes well and we can get a date for surgery. 🤞

I have a potential part time job as a virtual assistant and I am truly excited about that. And we are looking at setting up the trailer for a rental so that I can generate a little income and start paying off old debt and getting back on my feet again.

The three month anniversary of losing Justin was really hard on me but I want to thank everyone for their abounding kindness and support. Some days you and these rescue babies are all that gets me through to the next day. I am so grateful to have you in my life.

I also want to mention if you don't get a thank you note and receipt for your donation or some sort of confirmation, please check with me to make sure we received it. I always send a thank you note if it lets me and if you use cashapp I send a heart.

You are awesome and amazing and greatly appreciated. I could not do what I do if you weren't here supporting us and cheering me on. I hope the blessing that you are comes back to you ten fold. Have an amazing month!

Shelly Breeden-Conner

Executive director

Dooks of Earl Ferret Sanctuary Inc

731-326-0690

Tax ID 88-0945277

Donations can be made in app at:

https://www.jotform.com/app/213234930973154

Zelle and PayPal

dooksofearlferretsafehaven@gmail.com

Venmo @DooksofEarl

Cashapp $dooksofearl

Checks or money orders can be mailed to:

Dooks of Earl Ferret Sanctuary Inc

4826 US HIGHWAY 70 E

BROWNSVILLE, TN 38012-8412

[fuckyeahmarxismleninism]

Norfolk, Virginia: NATO Parade of Nations Protest

Saturday, April 22 - 9:30 a.m.

Town Point Park, 113 Waterside Drive, Norfolk, VA

Hosted by Virginia Defenders for Freedom, Justice & Equality and Hampton Roads Coalition for Peace & Planet

On Saturday, April 22, Norfolk will hold a parade to honor NATO, the North American Treaty Organization, which has its North American command center in the city. We invite you to join us in protesting it.

The wars we should be fighting are the ones here at home against global warming, poverty, racism, homelessness, evictions, attacks on trans people, and for accessible health care. To date, the U.S. government has sent more than $116 BILLION to Ukraine to fight the present war, while making it clear that it has no interest in ceasefires or negotiations. That’s more money than the federal government spends in a year on education. It’s 10 times what it spends on the Environmental Protection Agency.

This is OUR tax money that’s being squandered on a war that benefits no one except the arms manufacturers, while it pushes us closer to a nuclear confrontation that no one can win.

Join us on Earth Day as we peacefully protest the rise of U.S. militarism and the role NATO plays in carrying out acts of aggression around the world.

Join us as we demand, “Fight Poverty, Racism & Global Warming, not NATO’s Wars!”

The event begins at 10 am. Be sure to get there early. There’s some parking in the Freemason district or in one of the nearby city garages. We will set up along the parade route near the review stand. Look for the banner and signs!

For more information contact: peaceandplanet757@gmail.com

This protest was initiated by the Hampton Roads Coalition for Peace & Planet and has been endorsed by Norfolk Catholic Worker, the Virginia Defenders for Freedom, Justice & Equality and the Odessa Solidarity Campaign.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's Play Book of Hours! Up & In

Monday April 20th

In my dreams, the Wood fell away to stranger places, closer to Nowhere. I wandered empty landscapes, searching for a way to consciousness but finding none. When it seemed there was no way left to go but down past the threshold of the abyss, a terrible wind picked me up and carried me away, presenting me with gray robes. Whispering in my ear, the breeze said that Solomon Husher had worn these when first he came to the library. I knew at once upon waking what I must do. It may be some time before I return; I dare not let this journal leave the library.

Friday April 24th

I have received a true boon. A week on the wilderness, fasting, camping under the stars, sacrificing some rabbits for nothing else was on hand, and it has paid off. In the hollow of a tree, I found a strange package. Clearly it had meant to be sent in the post, but how it had wound up in the wilderness I cannot fathom. I shall take to battle and cut it open tomorrow in a fashion deserving of the belongings of the great Solomon Husher. Tonight I shall bathe and thus cleanse myself in preparation.

Saturday April 25th

I don't want to talk about it. What on Earth was someone's laundry basket doing upon the moors?

Sunday April 26th

Between my excursions for the past week and yesterday's rather depressing debacle, I decided to spend today at The Sweet Bones, helping the proprietor clean the back storage area. I'm not sure what were in the boxes there but I imagine that it at least belongs.

Monday April 27th

I turned my attention today to one of the other two manuscripts that had been left behind in the Keeper's Lodge. This one was much more recent, written within my own lifetime. Again, much of my day was dedicated merely to preparing a new cover that I might be able to recognize it on sight. Due to its connection to the Lantern-light of Glory, I elected for a charming yellow. It was The Locksmith's Dream: a Light through the Keyhole" by Teresa Galmier. If only her examination of parallels in the mystic dreams of artisans had been available to me before, I might have realized my own dream was building to disappointment. Alas, hindsight is everything.

Tuesday April 28th

I finished my cataloguing of what had been left in the Keeper's Lodge with the third book, which was a little older as it belonged to the Curia period. That said, it is an updated version of an older work: Kerisham's heavily censored manuscript on The Three and the Three. It describes operations of the Chancel and the Calyptra, two triads of Hours with subtle, far-reaching powers and responsibilities, though most of the original's juiciest details have been excised for political reasons. Nonetheless, I suspect that there are secrets that might be revealed by Moon-light or similar machinations.

Wednesday April 29th

I spent a good deal of time at The Sweet Bones today. The miners are warming up to me a little, but I soon concluded that none of them were up to the task of helping me repair the Watchman's Tower. I barely know what I'm doing; architecture is far too mundane an art to be recorded in my journal. In the end, I posted a notice that I was hoping for assistance. I must make progress quickly; people in the pub were complaining about the prime minister's plan to increase taxes to pay for defense. War comes.

Thursday April 30th

Though I still have had no reply to my advertisement (I checked at breakfast and dinner), I have done what surveying of the top floor of the tower I can. My work here is sadly quite limited: a leak developed in these past seven years and the ceiling of the first floor study is sagging noticeably. I dare not wander freely for fear of plummeting back down! Thus, the various covered instruments - and they are immense - remain a mystery to me, though I have my hopes based on the large windows. All I've been able to do so far is determine that the leak definitely isn't directly above the door to the stairs.

Friday May 1st

I have had luck at last! This morning at The Sweet Bones I met Thomas, a traveling performer of sorts. Though these days he makes his living traveling the Isles and getting tips in pubs and on street corners, he explained that he had once been part of an orchestra. It seems he fell out of favor after getting into a fight with the conductor shortly before a performance; something about a woman. Though it has been some years since Thomas has visited the capital or other large cities, he remembers well the theaters he once toured. He says he enjoyed wandering the backstage and seeing how the fascinating architecture of large buildings was held up from within. I hired him at once.

We have spent most of the day laboring away upstairs, first testing the floor with the safety of a second pair of eyes and then moving a ladder about to gain access to the roof. We patched several holes and will be ready to continue tomorrow.

Saturday May 2nd

Another busy day. We finished our survey of the roof and I think we've taken care of everything. I suppose there's no way to be certain until it rains. We then spent the day ripping out the damaged wood. Neither one of us is much good at this, but I suppose I am only going to get better.

Sunday May 3rd

Much too tired to keep writing. Lugging the new wood up the stairs quite exhausted me. We are done though.

Monday May 4th

Today I was finally able to appreciate the Observatory. Baron Silence had it constructed just in time for the passage of the Great Comet of 1577. I nearly squealed in excitement when I pulled away the massive sheet covering the telescope and got to enjoy it in its full glory. (Later I would use the sheet to wrap up the laundry basket I found on the moors that I might never be taunted by it again.)

My regret is that today was a little too cloudy for any sustained observations. I am certain that with a fuller understanding of the stars my progress may make leaps and bounds. I may even be able to create something, if I could deduce the recipes. For now I contented myself with a brief examination of the waxing moon, which was visible for an hour after sunset before disappearing behind the sky.

Tuesday May 5th

I returned to The Sweet Bones once again in the hopes of finding good jobs to do. Until the Trust sends me another annual stipend, I fear that I am going to be struggling making ends meet.

Wednesday May 6th

I examined the door on the far side of the Cloistered Garden today. It is covered in many strange sigils and signs that my diary has few notes upon; I was always a man of more conservative tastes when it came to painting. Until I understand them, I dare not open the door, for what little I can recognize carries a warning against disturbing the sanctity of the library. I went down to the pub again to place another advertisement.

Thursday May 7th

Success! Today I met Olivia, an experimental painter of some sort. She showed me her catalog and frankly I'm not certain if she isn't a bit deranged, but her work has been displayed at several minor exhibitions in the isles, so clearly someone appreciates it even if it's not to my tastes. In truth I'm uncertain if she'll be able to make any headway at all, but she was quite enthusiastic to hear that I was the new librarian. She'd expected she'd be painting the library from afar, but I've agreed to let her spend some time on the premises if she makes serious progress - and while there is little of the library to show off, I gave her a tour of Hush House to get started. She promised to return Saturday and begin in earnest.

Friday May 8th

I spent today cataloging one of the books I found in the Watchman's Tower. Another work of Forge, I think.

Saturday May 9th

Olivia returned today. She spent the day in the garden asking me strange questions. I wonder if there is more to her than there seems or if she simply is so ignorant of the occult that she has no fear of asking preposterous questions. She wanted to know the age of the rooms, whether they had ever been built in a different fashion, what I thought the house might look like if the Watchman's Tower had never been built, and so on.

Sunday May 10th

Unfortunately, I spent the day indisposed. I think I caught a cold passing around the village. I hope Olivia didn't catch it, but I saw no sign of her.

Tuesday May 12th

My fever broke today. Still no sign of Olivia. I spent the time cataloging The Book of the Centipede. Unlike most of the books I've catalogued so far, this one is written in Greek. I suspect it pertains to that strangest of Principles: Rose, which contains all hopes and possibilities within.

Wednesday May 13th

Olivia returned. As I feared, she'd caught ill and needed slightly longer to recover. I left her to her work while working on another book from the Curia period, which I suspect might refine my Knock, that principal which opens and allows passage. Serendipitously, Olivia revealed the fruits of her labor: still feeling a bit ill, she elected to paint the hall doors and all the sigils on them, entirely obscuring them. I was uncertain, but she passed through the doorway without incident. I will check on her tomorrow.

Thursday May 14th

Olivia was fine. Finally able to enter the Entrance Hall, I spent today appreciating the glorious collection of statuary present. Much of the history of this library is captured within. Two busts of the Dewulfs - Hendrick and Valentine, first and last of the barons. A full statue of the first Eva, Lady de Braose who donated generously to the Abbey in the thirteenth century, an odd statue of the protector of the House Lady Rowena (none have ever seen her, but either she is real or someone is pretending to be her through St. Rhonwen's Trust), and a truly ancient bust from the Dawn labeled "Sister". Two of the abbots: the early Thomas and the later Geffrey, who built a tower to house a Jewish surgeon. Another bust, St Melancthe, the alchemist, inscribed "The cross died not but passed within."

There are other wonders here as well. A homey fireplace for visitors to warm themselves beside as they put on leather gloves and slippers, soothing paintings of trees, the crook Authority (no doubt left behind by the Suppression Bureau), and gloomier paintings too. One is of the beach at high tide, the other is called "The Boy Prays" but I see no boy in the picture and nothing resembling prayer. Finally, an ancient wood sits over the fire. I cannot imagine simply burning it however.

Friday May 15th

Truly I must be a fool. Once again I have had a strange dream brought by the winds. They led me down into the depths of the Earth, following after the Cross, so far down that the caves around me became like shifting seas with every step uncertain. They coiled around themselves and spiraled down and down and down. I shall set out on the moors at once.

Wednesday May 20th

I returned from my excursion late today. I circled the island many times, perhaps seven times seven, eating only bread and drinking only water. I followed the winds as they blew me, listening in to the rumors of war they foretold. On my last circle, my foot stumbled and I nearly fell headfirst into a little pit in the earth. I reached in and pulled out this single viper's egg. I am still far too low on resources to have a pet at the moment, but I think I shall hatch it once I can.

[fictionkinfessions]

its weird being kin with a character who is so commonly headcanoned to have NPD (while not having npd), and then having NPD now like man i Didnt have npd i was riddled with a whole other set of mental health issues lol

"omgg leo isnt DEPRESSED he has NPD and just needs support from his family to validate himself!!" like good for you live your life but also No i Didnt i acted as the "face man" because a) i didnt have a Niche in the team and b) nobody else really Was the face man like i didnt have a *role* aside from just being The Fourth Turtle like, donnie had his tech and raph was built like a tank and also Is Raph i mean cmon, and mikey had his fucken Razzmatazz and i was just sorta There Leo, blue guy, red eared slider, liked instant noodles and cold drinks and warm blankets and sorta just not really A Part of it like why do you think i took up being the fucking medic? so id be like!! useful!!! so id have something to do to say i was helping!! do you know how taxing it is to go and set bones and be the one to help your brothers after they have their shit rocked by like. meatsweats or something? fuck like im not MAD at them but it was like. a stressful thing. but i HAD nothing else! i wasnt leader until way later on and no matter what raph would always be the Unofficial Leader. my portals didnt compare to any of the shit my brothers could do. like "oh yeah hey i can make fucking portals" meanwhile raph can a) FUCKING DUPLICATE HIMSELF and b) make a projection of himself thats like 5 times his size mikey can a) THROW BOATS??? AND BUILDINGS???? WITH HIS FUCKING NUNCHUCKS???? b) yk. make inter-dimensional portals so not even my PORTALS are unique c) FLOAT. EVENTUALLY. d) like. pyro-related stuff i guess. and donnie's so fucking smart he doesnt even NEED mystic shit!! his tech-bo is like, yaknow, EVERYTHING YOUD WANT out of something called a "tech-bo", he set up all of our lair's tech, he made the heaters, he made AI's with the same capabilities of a human brain, and then add on MYSTICS to that???? holy SHIT. then theres dad who can just Kick Ass apparently despite being a tiny rat-man. april is the most resourceful person i know, casey and casey jr. are both STUPIDLY good with hand-to-hand combat because of fucking course they are. barry is a) physically capable somehow, b) has his stupid fucking vines and c) is an ALCHEMIST. even fucking sunita is more interesting than me!!! like what the shit! the most I contribute is being a fucking pest!!! my unfunny-streak has CONTINUED into Now, and im just as uninteresting and all this is stupid because draxum made all of us WITH A PURPOSE. the tank, the strategist, the analyst and the mediator. raph, me, don and mikey. i know, factually im not "without purpose". im part of our stupid, biologically-designed unit. but i cant fucking help myself. what the point of a strategist if the analyst is smart enough to fix everything if something goes wrong. what good is a strategist if the mediator can, again, THROW. BUILDINGS. what fucking GOOD is a STRATEGIST if the TANK can protect everyone!! "oh but leo! you trapped Him in the prison dimension" it wouldnt have been a PROBLEM if I hadnt let them out in the FIRST PLACE. it doesnt MATTER that i didnt know what it was! it still happened BECAUSE OF ME. donnie had to fucking, idk, INTEGRATE with THE FUCKING TECHNODROME cause of me! mikey fried himself cause of ME! dad and april got hurt cause of me! raph got fucking kidnapped and infected BECAUSE OF ME! if i wasnt a factor, the invasion wouldnt have happened at all, and my whole "planning to trap Prime in the prison dimension + self sacrifice" thing wouldnt have even HAD TO HAPPEN, so that point is WORTHLESS! i am a """strategist""" that only serves to hurt his unit. and what kind of fucking strategist is that.

-leo (probably from Lemonade Leak i guess) 🔷⚔🌌. sorry for this ask, mpc. probs more venty than you bargained for.

🐸

[corrodedcoffinfest]

Warm-Up April Prompt - Taxed

It's tax day. Do they need to pay their taxes? Is this a write-off? Or, are they just taxed from being on the road? Tax them.

Get those submissions in by 11:59 PM EDT tonight!

Be sure to tag @corrodedcoffinfest and feel free to use the hashtag #corrodedcoffinfest.

This will blog will comment with a 🦇 when your fic has been checked for word count and queued for reblogging.

[homosociallyyours]

I WANT TO YELL ABOUT ALL OF YOUR WIPS!!!!!!!!!!! Can I be greedy and pretty please ask about Tax Preparer Marcel/Stripper Louis, Cinema/cinnamon 80s- times square red, times square blue, AND Upper West Side (girl direction)???

OMG YES of course Maggie!! Thank you for asking!!

Tax Preparer Marcel/Stripper Louis: This was actually supposed to be part of last year's Reverse Bang, with art/prompt by @becomeawendybird and it's. SO GOOD!! I basically just took on too much and couldn't make the deadline, but the fic kinda just needs another ~500 words and final editing.

It's based on a tweet by H&R Block saying they can help strippers figure out tax write offs (but in a cute, catchy way), and I set it in SF with Louis dancing at the worker owned, union-led Lusty Lady (which is closed, sadly). Here's a snippet, and the rest of the answers, behind a read more:

“I just wanted to say it’s been a real pleasure working with you, Lou. And if you have any questions you can call me any time and I’ll help you out if I can.” She slid a copy of her business card across the desk, her personal number written carefully across the top. “I hope I’m not overstepping, I just--” 

“Oh, you’re not at all! I was actually taking my time with these papers trying to figure out how to ask if you wanted to get coffee sometime. Or a drink, whatever.” Louis swiped her hair across her forehead, letting it fall artfully back into place. Her smile was soft and delicate, and Marcel felt like anything she could say in return would come out clumsy and awkward, but she had to try anyway. 

“I’d do whatever you wanted.” Her glasses slid down her nose as she looked down at her desk, not wanting to meet Louis’ eyes. “At least once tax season is over.” 

“So-- after April 15th, then?” Marcel nodded. “I’m going to hold you to it, Marce. Might even drag you to the Lusty one night since you said you’ve never been.” 

“Oh!” Marcie’s cheeks flamed, the thought of sitting in a booth with Louis in her lap filling every available space in her mind. “I did tell you that, didn’t I?” She was pretty sure if she saw Louis actually dancing she’d spontaneously combust, but that was the image that came to her mind next. She widened her eyes, trying to bring herself back into the moment. 

“You did, and you said you’d been meaning to do it for years.” Louis tightened the strap of her messenger bag, swinging it around to her back. Marcel refrained from staring at her tits, even if the strap pressing between them made them that much more prominent. “And honestly? I’ve told everyone I work with about you, so they’re all dying to meet you.” 

Cinema/Cinnamon/Times Square Red, Times Square Blue: So this is one that's just a fleshed out idea, but I REALLY wanna write it, so I hope I can make it happen. Basically when I first heard Cinema my first thought was that it sounded like Harry was saying "this enema" or "the cinnamon" instead of "the cinema" and of course that "you bring the pop" was about poppers. All of that plus cinema had me thinking about Samuel Delaney's Time Square Red, Times Square Blue, which talks about 1970/80s Times Square NYC and the porn theaters there as a gay space (I'm definitely oversimplfying; it's been years since I read the book and would wanna re-read before writing!)

Soooo. The plot is that Harry goes to the Times Square porn theaters regularly to anonymously get off with men there, but there's one guy in particular who it's always really good with-- a guy in a cap with long-ish hair who manages to keep his face hidden but who's always chewing cinnamon gum. It gets to the point that even smelling that warm cinnamon scent makes Harry's dick interested. Meanwhile, he takes a job in a restaurant kitchen in midtown. It's grunt work, and he mostly just keeps his head down until a new guy gets hired as a dishwasher. They strike up a friendship, and while walking downtown together after work, Louis pops in a stick of cinnamon gum as they pass the theaters (definitely a Pavlovian response).

Immediately Harry realizes that Louis is his cinnamon guy, but when he points it out Louis kinda freaks out and bolts. They do work it out, and it's not long before they're really getting to know each other/dating. After they've been together a minute they re-create their anonymous hook ups in the theater with Louis bringing poppers and the two of them fuck in the back. THAT'S ALL I'VE GOT

Upper West Side: This is a VERY old wip/start of a fic that's based on the King Princess song of the same name. It's set in NYC in the 90s. Here's the start of it:

They met at Clit Club on a Thursday night, the room more crowded than it should’ve been and “Push It” pounding out through the shitty speakers. Louis was high on the success of her drag show and covered in girls, but all she really wanted to do was dance. Find someone with a tight little ass and grind against her, taste the sweat rolling down their neck before she sucked a kiss there. Her favorite kind of calling card. 

She was about to go to the middle of the floor and let herself get lost in a sea of dykes, maybe find someone for a quick fuck in the bathroom, when the door opened, bringing a rush of cooler air from outside and grabbing her attention. A woman stood there, backlit by a streetlight and with long curls that made Louis want to get tangled up and pull. Louis squeezed her thighs together, thinking about getting this woman-- tall, femme, over-dressed for a bar like this, --up against the graffitied walls of the bathroom and finger fucking her until she was an absolute mess. 

There was no use wasting time. She walked over to the woman, who was still standing in the doorway, her eyes searching the crowded club as if she’d be able to find anyone she knew in the shadowed mass of dykes, and introduced herself. 

“You look lost. Like you might need a guide for the night,” she said, going on tiptoes to reach the woman’s ear. “I’m Lou.” 

“Harry,” the woman said, giving Louis a sidelong glance. “Don’t need a guide, but maybe you could get me a vodka soda? And a dance?” Her smile was a coy stretch of her wide, cherry red lips and a dart of her tongue, and fuck, that was enough to convince Louis she’d made the right move talking to this woman. 

[medusapelagia]

Other events: General, Rare Pairs, Character Centered Events - March Update

Last but not least... these are all the other events I know of!

Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang @strangerthingsreversebigbang Posting season has begun! Here is the AO3 collection where all the amazing writers will post their entries inspired by the beautiful art that the artists made!

Stobin month 2024 March 2024 This event is on Twitter and here are all the 31 prompts!

Stranger Things Big Bang (@strangerthingsbigbang) The authors sign up closes on March 15 but the Artist sign up is open till May 11! Event info

Billy Hargrove Big Bang (@billyhargrovebigbang) Sign-Ups Open: March 29 Writer Sign-Ups Close: April 29 Artist Sign-Ups Close: June 22 Event info

Rare Pair Roulette (@st-rarepair-roulette) Signs up are closed and the posting season starts on the 1st of April!

Stranger Things Sapphic Mini Bang ( @sapphicstevents) Sign Up Opens Authors: 1 April - 30 April Artists: 1 April - 14 June Here the interest form Event info

Stranger Things Femslash (@strangerthingsfemslash) 3-7 April Event info

A Stranger Summer (@astrangersummer) Get ready for some weekly prompts through the months of May, June, July, and August! Event info

Prompts list

BUCKLEWAY APPRECIATION WEEK Do you think it was a pity that Robin and Heather never got time together on screen? Here is your occasion to make it happen! Run from MAY 19 - 25 Event info

Eddie Munson Big Bang (@eddiemunsonbigbang) It’s still a bit early but get ready to sign up to the most metal Big Band ever! Sign ups open on July 1st, 2024 and close on September 9th, 2024 Event info

Corroded Coffin Fest (@corrodedcoffinfest) This even will take place from July 1st thru July 31st but there are going to be three warm up events! APRIL 15TH - TAXED MAY 15TH - GET A JOB JUNE 15TH - BAND ON THE RUN Event Info

Metal Sandwich Bingo (@metalsandwichbingo) The bingo will take place 1 Oct - 31 Dec, 2024, more info closer to the event! Event Info

Hawkins microfic (@hawkinsmicrofic) It's still a work in progress, but get ready to challenge yourself with a prompt and a defined number of words. Event info

Steve Harrington Big Bang (@steveharringtonbigbang) We will have to wait a bit because it was postponed to 2025 but I'm sure the wait will be worth it!

As always feel free to reblog and add other events!

[fractallogic]

I want a green chile grilled cheese and a good fucking yoga class and a hibiscus lemon drop and most importantly FOR IT TO STOP FUCKING GODDAMN RAINING

I am so sorry scone I miss Tucson so much. I want to move back there and i know it’s basically second to last on your list just above “stay in Saudi Arabia”. I want to move to colorado more, but ugh the Tucson feeling has really been speaking to me lately. MOSTLY I DO NOT WANT TO STAY HERE unless I have to and even then not for much longer.

Reflecting on this morning, it was so much easier to bear a dream about my mom (although it was like, blatantly odd and dreamlike so not quite as jarring, and also she was being so mean to my stepdad and short with me (like, unfortunately, I’m very much used to her being), so it didn’t make me go “Aw mom” like some of them do) when I don’t have to wake up to like. fucking sky soup. And going out for my breakfast burrito (at 2 PM lol my eating habits are so fucked up) I stood in the doorway for a while just basking in the sun and the air was fresh and warm

Like I KNEW the weather affected me and I know it starts to affect me pretty fast, AND this has been, uh, a rather mentally and emotionally taxing last six months, BUT STILL. March and April have really packed a super depressed punch that I wasn’t expecting. And there’s part of me that’s like oh, well, when scone is here and you’re not worried about precarity, it won’t be so bad!! and maybe that’s the case… but maybe I just work harder on getting a job in colorado instead.

[oliviajames1122]

Energy price

How to smooth over the energy price shock

Prime Minister Boris Johnson is under pressure to act on soaring energy prices and household costs as a jump in capped bills looms in April.

The government has a trilemma over energy prices: how to solve the cost-of-living crisis, while being focused on net-zero, and unwilling to increase taxation or borrowing.

There may be no ideal solution, but a number of questions need clarification.

Who should be shielded from a 50% rise in energy prices and for how long?

Who should bear the burden - bill payers or taxpayers? Are we willing to take a hit on government debt?

And do we want to smooth this over 25 years or two or three years?

·Boris Johnson promises action over rising energy bills

·Energy prices: Government must show more urgency, says Ova boss

Imminent rises

The energy price rises that are coming in April and again in the autumn will reach well beyond the "hard-up" or "fuel poor", possibly sending inflation towards an incredible 7%.

This is something not seen in three decades, since well before the independence of the Bank of England.

Such is the scale of the increases in the pipeline - with typical bills heading to £165 a month - which the pressure will affect millions of lower-middle-income households as well as poorer ones.

Average households, which currently spend 4% of their disposable income on energy, will see that almost double many business listing.

A recent poll suggested that half of Britons would not be able to afford a rise in their monthly bills of £50 a month. That's the increase which is coming in a few weeks' time.

All of this means there are some fundamental flaws with the three main solutions currently being floated.

Discount expansion

An expansion of the £140 Warm Home Discount scheme is the current most-talked-about plan.

The current budget of this scheme is less than £500m a year.

It is not really designed for a situation where several million people might need support to fund a £20bn energy price shock.

The "core" element of the scheme distributes payments automatically to low-income elderly using pension credit data.

But there are now more people in the broader part of the scheme for working-age recipients of the discount.

This part of the scheme is run on a first-come-first-served basis, where recipients have to apply for the discount from a fixed pot of funds at each energy company and hope that the fund isn't exhausted.

There are some different criteria applicable at each energy company so claimants may not be eligible if they have switched.

The most significant factor, though, is that no funds come from the taxpayer.

It is all funded by the energy companies, or rather, funded from energy bills.

Redistributing half a billion for the fuel poor on to wealthier people's bills is one thing.

Adding several times that, on top of the record increases, starts to assume the character of a new tax.

Cuts to VAT and green levies

A cut in VAT saves 5% or £95 off a £1900 predicted bill. This might prove a helpful addition, but will not fundamentally alter the picture.

It also gives more cashback to those with the biggest bills, or the largest, least well-insulated mansions. And it also loses revenue to the Exchequer.

And then there is getting rid of the "green levies". These are a range of policies that add about £170 to bills business listings.

They reflect the funding for historical investments in green energy and a range of social obligations.

They would be required instead to be funded by the taxpayer.

A version of this idea was floated four years ago in Professor Dieter Helm's "Cost of energy" report to the government. He said that report had been "shelved".

Putting off costs

There is another solution that the government is looking at: what is being termed a "cost deferral mechanism".

Essentially some big banks, possibly backed by a Treasury guarantee, lend billions to energy companies, who then spread a £600 immediate hike, into, say an additional £120 premium every year for five years, or less over a decade.

It is possible to do this without Treasury backing, but some sort of adaptation of rules governing existing deferral arrangements such as the last resort supplier schemes would be needed.

Another version of this scheme being pushed in Whitehall could utilize the pandemic rescue architecture at the Bank of England by providing up-front funding.

This could prove rather controversial, but some argue that the scheme could help prevent inflation from getting to 7%.

Some version of the scheme, or "smoothing mechanism", has been gaining traction in the energy sector, in some government departments, and among MPs keen for a plan.

But it doesn't have universal backing in the energy industry.

In an interview with the BBC, earlier this week Centrica chief executive Chris O 'Sheaf referred to it as a "bailout" for energy companies.

That in turn has led to some skepticism at the Treasury about how it can work.

But I understand that plans along these lines are being worked up, with some observers seeing this scheme as the cornerstone of a Prime Ministerial relaunch in the coming weeks.

Short or long-term hike?

The judgment on whether this is a one-off shock, or whether, as Mr O'Shea suggested, it will last two years or more, is critical here.

There are reasons to believe it is the consequence of an exceptional set of circumstances.

Firstly, the post-pandemic bounce-back led to unprecedented demand, including for gas.

Secondly, the fact that due to a late, cold, and long winter last year, crucial stores of gas in Europe never got full in the first place going into this winter.

And lastly, there is the Nordstrom 2 pipeline from Russia which is finished, but has not been certified by Germany free business listings.

The prediction that wholesale gas prices stay high for a year or two is a reflection of what futures markets are saying.

All of that could change rather rapidly with a speech from Russian President Vladimir Putin, or when the global economy normalizes.

But we cannot be certain either way.

If a smoothing mechanism is put into operation, and wholesale prices remain high, then households might get prolonged chronic pain and a never-ending scheme.

Does the political cycle lend itself to such a spread of the burden with a general election expected in 2024?

All of this points to the traditional moment where Number 10's First Lord of the Treasury - one of the Prime Minister's official titles - overrules a fiscally cautious Chancellor.

But the political backdrop of "party gate" adds some uncertainty to what actually happens here.

The fundamentals are this though: Is this a one-off price shock? And for how long does the government want to spread the energy price pain?

For ordinary households, there couldn't be a more important consequence to the nation's currently delicate political balance.

Boris Johnson says he is talking to Chancellor Rishi Sunak over how the government could help people with soaring energy prices.

The prime minister is under pressure to act on rising household costs, ahead of further increases to capped bills due in April.

Some Tory MPs want cuts to green levies and VAT to help bring bills down.

Labour, which also wants VAT suspended, is also demanding higher taxes on oil and gas producers.

The party said it would use money from the hike to pay for more generous government payments to help poorer households with costs.

On Monday, Mr Johnson said ministers understood the difficulties people were facing, and "we're certainly looking at what we can do".

·Labour demands energy firm tax hike to cut bills

·How can the government solve the energy crisis?

·How much would a VAT cut on my energy bill save?

Trade body Energy UK predicts bills will surge by up to 50% in April, when the change to the price cap, due to be determined in February, kicks in.

There have been warnings that average households could pay about £700 more per year, amid surging prices for wholesale gas worldwide.

Speaking to reporters during a visit to a vaccination center, Mr Johnson said rises were driven by "general inflationary pressure" caused by the world economy "coming back from Covid".

But he added: "We've got to help people, particularly people in low incomes, we've got to help people with the cost of their fuel - and that's what we're going to do."

Asked if he would meet Mr Sunak this week, he replied: "I've been meeting the chancellor constantly. I met the chancellor last night to talk about it."

Mr Johnson is expected to hold his first formal discussions with Mr Sunak on Monday, although a decision on what to do is not expected imminently.