#he budgets and plans and cooks and uses everything available to him

[noblemalone]

Yk when i was making above a living wage and had enough money to cover all my necessities to live plus a little extra to save for the future and do my silly little hobbies, my mental health was great, i was making art and i felt a general positivity towards my fellow humans and my role in society

But now with inflation and the housing crisis, im working solely to pay my landlords mortgage and suddenly i kind of fucking hate my job and every single person i meet isnt that funny how that works

[kingshovelbug]

Hii what is your best advice to younger adults trying to make it independently and make a living? In art, savings or anything you think of. Thank you in advance!

dont be too hard on yourself. its tough out there right now in regards to like everything regardless of what old people say. also this is going to be a lot so im slapping a read more on here

⭐️ first thing id recommend for anyone is to start figuring out a budget. figure out how much youre making monthly. keep all your food receipts for a month or two to see what youre spending on food. find out what youre paying for thats necessary like utilities and whats not

the goal for a budget (or at least mine) is to find a good balance of earning vs spending. im paying off my credit card right now because i ran through all my savings after we had to move last year but my goal used to be to save 1/4 of what i earned after bills and putting money into an emergency fund (usually an emergency fund is 3 months worth of expenses). but it depends on how much you can comfortably put away. if you can put more away do it. but if you never spend money and deprive yourself of joy youre going to burn yourself out regardless of what your job is

⭐️ if youre not already buy store brand for as much shit as you can. if its an ingredient i promise as someone who cooks and bakes you probably wont notice the difference. if its an actual snack it depends. again both from a money perspective and to boycott pro-isreal companies we get a lot of snacks from aldis and theyre awesome. i dont miss anything from mars, oreos etc when i have my chocolate coconut wafers

⭐️ if you have any subscriptions and you need to get rid of something you can probably cancel them. for *most* things theres some kind of free alternative. but again just like with a budget. there are going to be some subscriptions that make your life easier and while youd save money without them it would lead to extra work and burning out. ex willow has kofi gold because it has really cool extra features that help with running the shop. but for streaming services? im going to be so honest. both to save money and with how cheeky streaming companies (in a bad way) have been getting… you can find whatever you want to watch online for free

if you need to use anything from the microsoft office suite, but youre not required by youre job to specifically use microsoft, libreoffice is a free alternative that i actually like better. its what i use to help willow run their shop and its free

for art programs. if you still have photoshop switch. not just for money reasons. adobe is getting bold with what they can claim as their content and use from what people produce in their program. the switch isnt the easiest but there are a bunch of alternatives. some free some like csp offer one time licenses which are so much better than subscriptions. will has spent almost $2k on photoshop and after effects from using it as long as they have. when csp is $50 and they like csp better anyways. i also know of krita and fire alpaca which are free

⭐️ also theres stuff about being an adult that i thought you had to pay for but you dont? like for car insurance i went through an independent insurance agent and they found me a cheaper plan than i could find myself. i didnt pay the guy. they get a cut from the insurance company for finding them another customer. some banks or credit cards offer financial advising sessions to users. its boring but if you can get a copy of your health insurance see if they have any free shit on there thats available for you. my brother gets free doctor finding? like i can call them, tell them what specialist he needs and instead of me calling around to find one that can take him, they connect me with someone. my work offers 3 free therapy sessions (better than nothing) and free food that i take advantage of

⭐️ i think one of the biggest things that makes an impact for us is researching before buying stuff. sounds like a no brainer but you dont just want to find the cheapest deal. you want to find the best bargain, the best bang for your buck. whats the best quality thing you can get that you can also afford? itll prevent your from having to replace stuff all the time and by extension spending more than you need to. we have nonstick pots and pans that are scratched and starting to peel (which apparently can cause cancer??) that were cheap because of being on sale. now after looking into what makes quality cookware i know i should of just slowly bought stainless steel

⭐️ last big one. credit cards. unfortunately we need them so find one with a low apr and that offers decent cash back. use it up to like 20% of your limit and pay it off every month. focus on using it on things that will get you cash back so you can essentially get free money

im sure i could ramble more but this is already super long

[aladaylessecondblog]

Red Mountain Waffle House pt. 38

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55071724/chapters/168749863

Most of the ascended sleepers couldn't actually talk, Sadara found. She would speak to one and they would sign with their hands, or if the answer required something more than a quick movement of the hand then they'd write out a reply. Sometimes, though, they'd simply flash an image into her mind.

Dagoth Vaner was the first to start 'speaking' to her regularly in this way. She was eating breakfast on one of her days off and he entered the kitchen - she greeted him, and suddenly in her mind there was an image.

Near-empty pantry shelves.

"Is it time to go shopping, then?"

He signed 'yes.'

"Whose job is it normally?"

He signed 'not here.'

"Oh, right, must've been one of the ones that left. I could do it, but I'd have to know for how many people, and where the money's coming from."

He stood there while she finished eating.

"Why not speak to V, er, Lord Dagoth about this? Or Nerevar?"

More images. Voryn in front of the Heart, and Nerevar doing something with a spear. She guessed it made some sense there too. She was the available option at the moment, and she could get why he didn't want to bother Voryn with it. Nerevar, well, she didn't know about him, but he didn't seem the grocery buying type.

"First," she said when she was done, "How many people do we have to feed?"

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

By the end of twenty minutes Sadara had answers to most of her questions. The treasurer of the family, or at least of Dagoth Ur (the building) was one Dagoth Muthes, an ash poet.

He also seemed to be the closest thing they had to a head of staff, and had a ready list of names. Twenty or so remained, not great, but not terrible. The feeding was done via a sort of cafeteria system, so she didn't have to plan for individual meals - the corprus, she was told, had obliterated any allergies one might have so there was no need to worry about that either.

"Tell whoever's in charge of cooking to plan for stews, soup, sandwiches, and corprusmeat for the first week. Maybe do a poll of some kind..." Sadara thought. "I can figure something out here but the poll's so we can expand things after that. Get an idea of what people like...get some treats in here now and then. I don't think following Lord Dagoth means one doesn't want any cake for example..."

"Dagoth Rather is in charge of the cooking, and I'll let him know. The main point is we'll need to apply for a larger budget to feed this many people much more than we already are."

"What's the amount you can spend right now? I think you said it was doled out weekly?"

Muthes gave the figure, and Sadara made a sound rather like a raspberry. "I could feed much more than twenty people on that. I've eaten cheaply for years before I came--here."

"Of course, my lady--"

"Oh, use my name, please," Sadara replied. "It's just I'm not officially his wife yet..."

Yet. The word hung in the figurative air in her mind.

Morvani, to whom she spoke now and then, said that it little mattered that the first marriage had been annulled. That while he was drunk Voryn had apparently done everything right regarding her joining House Dagoth, at least as far as the wedding vows went. And no law, she said after, could put that asunder so easily.

She wasn't a Hlaalu any longer, but a Dagoth.

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

The Hlaalu ancestors were very unhappy about this.

Had Sadara stood in front of the altar she'd built to her own family, she would have heard whispered snatches of conversation, and snipes from one relation to another.

"Oh, this one will be the Nerevarine, Azura tells us!" a women in a fine gown spoke up, "A nobody from the empire, uncertain child of uncertain parents!"

"Well she was SUPPOSED to be, but THAT is certainly out the window." A more wizardly looking man spoke up now. "It was out the window the minute she opened her legs for--"

"She's managed to get Nerevar on her side," a timid sounding woman spoke up, "Surely THAT counts for something?"

"Oh yes, the most holy of Temple saints on one side, and the most profane of devils on the other! What FILTH!"

"As if thine youthful indiscretions were any better?" someone else, much older sounding called, "Thou wert the town bicycle before committing to holy study."

"And one cannot improve?"

"At least my children became wealthy merchants through their wits and good business sense," said another woman, "And Ouada, really--YOUR daughter--"

"Well it wasn't like she didn't TRY to do something different!" the youngest woman present said, "When you're that badly off you don't get the same opportunities! She tried to--"

"YOUR DAUGHTER FUCKED THE SHARMAT!" someone burst out. "Talk to her if you like, but WE shan't sully ourselves with the Dagoth taint."

"Dost thou not realize you have Dagoth blood? All the Great Houses do," said the elder voice of the group.

The argument went on for some time. But the elder ancestor, and Ouada, seemed willing to speak to Sadara.

"Other Hlaalus there might be," the elder ancestor said, "But thine daughter - she biddeth us soon farewell."

"I...have not spoken to her in a very long while," Ouada said quietly. "I was--angry. Azura..."

"Gods come and go," the elder said, "But family is forever. Make thine peace, before it is too late."

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

Sadara was in the middle of meal planning with Dagoth Rather when Voryn walked in. She didn't see him at first, and she was a bit distracted.

"Cliffracers are good eating, and you could sell the plumes to pay for a few other things, supplement the budget...it would provide hunters a place to--"

She stopped short when Rather pulled back and bowed until his face-trunks met the ground.

"I was wondering where you were," Voryn suddenly said. "What is it you're up to?"

She was glad, once again, that he was actually dressed. What she imagined must have been a common outfit before all the Everything of the First Council - a red robe with black accents, and gold jewelry dotted here and there.

"Seeing about getting the staff fed. They're starting to want things other than corpusmeat since...the change, and they'll be fine with it now, it's just...they want something different more often."

"I thought you'd want to relax on one of your days off."

"Well, someone's got to do this," she said, "And it wasn't like I had very much planned to do today. I like feeling useful."

She finished up with Rather, and then took the list that had been made of what to buy when she left the room. Voryn followed.

"It wasn't something I had thought about being necessary," he said, looking over the list with her, "But if you want to tend to this, I certainly won't stop you. As long as you have time for me later."

"You're almost as needy as Nerevar," she said, feeling one of his long arms slip around her side. "Or is it jealousy?"

"To see my Nerevars together does not provoke jealousy...but it does prompt something else." There was a slight growl.

"What have we talked about?" she prompted gently.

A slight easing of his grip.

"Not to call you that unless you've asked for it."

"I know you're just enthusiastic...and it still surprised me how much you DID enjoy the sight of it." She looked up when they stopped in an alcove in the hall. "Why was that? Because we're both 'yours'?"

"Something...something like that." His hands (freshly shorn of the lengthy claws he'd favored for so long) were lifted to her face. "To see the two I care for most...in that intimate position..."

"Fucking."

"So vulgar." There was a chuckle. "It was...invigorating. I hadn't seen you like that since the trip to Suran."

"That was a good night. Even with everything that happened after, I enjoyed that night for a long time. You acted like I'd vanish if you let go of me. I felt like...like the most treasured thing in the world."

It was a good memory to look back on, even when she'd started living in that cave. But the difference between then and now was staggering. Now she wasn't looking back, but forward.

"I still feel like I haven't returned the favor."

"I will say what I always say. You don't NEED to feel obligated."

"When you've been where I've been," Sadara said quietly, "You learn not to rely on things you can't repay. I'm...not saying I think you'll turn on me. But it's not something I can just...just shake off like a wet nix-hound. Keeping busy helps me a lot more than you might think."

"And Jiub?"

"One of the few people I ever trusted...before. If he helped me, I knew I'd pay him back sooner or later, and vice versa. Like he said...we've never...you know. Tried dating once, back when he was still trying to figure out if he was asexual. Turned out he was...and the idea of going too far with me was weird to begin with. 'It'd be like fucking my cousin,' he said."

That made him laugh.

"And me? Is it a strange thought for you, knowing who I am? Or was?"

"Now that I'm used to the idea...not really. I'm sure if I had been Temple faithful this would have been extremely heretical. A saint and a devil, and me. But you don't want to hear what those 'false gods' think, so I'll drop it."

A kiss at her forehead. She caught the scent of cinnamon and spice. There was a sudden strange feeling of deja vu.

"We have done this before, haven't we? When--when I was...if I was him."

"Always behind closed doors, or in hidden places, yes," Voryn said, "Things are going to be different this time, for all three of us."

Another kiss, this time on her lips.

"I have things to do, you know." Sadara found him so different from what he'd been before. He could be amusing, interesting, arousing before, certainly. But now, he seemed...somehow more. "So unless you want to go shopping with me, I think you'd better make your point here quickly."

Nerevar was a collection of raw and untamed passions that couldn't tolerate waiting. Voryn was more patient, but just as needy.

He wouldn't be savaging her in the hallway, but she didn't leave that alcove without a few marks on her neck.

"Mine," he would say, after leaving the last of three, "If you stay a little longer I could leave more on the other side."

"And leave no room for Nerevar?"

"Would you like that?" There was a last little growl in her ear. "To have both of us at once?"

"I would be fine with trying it, depending..."

"On what?"

"Depending on how depraved the scenario you're imagining is going to be."

He was as easy to rile up as Nerevar. The look on his face almost had her laughing again.

This all felt so easy. Like riding a bicycle - she had been slow to restart what had once been, but after taking the first few awkward steps it all began to fall into place.

[micaelzq]

I wrote this on Twitter but I have two followers so I wanted to try here.

It was the middle of the summer when Steve and Robin ran away. It was unexpected, but it just happened, Hawkins was an unbearable nightmare on their lives and it had never felt like home, so, one night both grabbed all their belongings, stuffed them on Steve’s car and drove to Dustin and Max’s place to say their last goodbyes.

Both kids cried a little but the eye bags on Robin and Steve’s face stopped them from begging them to stay. They knew it would kill them.

Robin read her whole old diary to Steve in their way to Indianapolis, translating all the bits she had written in other languages and laughing every once in a while over how in love was she with Tammy. All of her old plans to run away to Europe were there, she had a whole trip planned, so when Steve and Robin entered the airport and saw that the first flight available was to Lyon both bought their tickets with their own savings without hesitation. About five hours later Robin and Steve’s parents arrived to the airport to find Steve’s car parked between the hundred of cars of other travelers and the little boards with all the flights tagged as deployed. They were gone.

Robin did all the talking at first, Steve just followed her holding her hand and eating whatever Robin had managed to fit in their budget, the hostel they were staying was horrible and they didn’t know anyone, but they were free. The croissants tasted amazing, the people didn't even paid attention to them and the streets were beautiful at night, so they stayed there as long as their money allowed them.

Steve studied harder than he had ever done it to learn to move on his own, he was used to be alone, learning in a new place to do the same wouldn't be hard, and he had Robin with him now, he wouldn't be alone anymore.

Sometimes he would order by himself his food, or pay at the grocery store, sometimes some locals would tell him little grammar corrections and he would feel embarrassed, going back to his ‘stupid self persona’, that stigma that everyone had of him, but everyone was so nice, they understood him, they made the effort to understand him unlike other people.

The day that everything changed on Steve was when a tourist asked him to take a pictures of her in French and he understood her. He felt so warm over the fact that people didn’t know who he was, and if he was capable or not, they asked him because they saw him as someone who could help, and Steve felt useful without having to risk his life for once. Steve couldn’t be happier.

By the time their old savings were running low, Robin had managed to get some tutoring jobs for kids and Steve had landed a job at a local restaurant as chef. A secret of Steve was that he was amazing at cooking. A friend of him had got him the job at one of his friend’s father restaurant.

So they saved money again and by the time two years had gone since they had left Hawkins they left Lyon now, jumping this way around most of the most touristic cities in Europe.

About ten years later they had already visited (and worked, and made friends and even fucked) France, Italy, Andorra, Portugal, and Spain, settling on the last one.

It was around 3 in the morning when Max called (because time difference) and Max laughed loudly when Steve answered in Spanish.

By the time they settled on Spain Steve spoke a good chunk of French, pieces of Italian and Portuguese and he had also learned Spanish and some Catalan, something he never imagined he could be able to do . Forced proximity to a language was a real thing. Robin on the other hand was on another level, excelling all the languages from the places they had live in, but that wasn’t anything new. Steve was more than thankful because he wasn’t sure he could’ve done it without Robin.

Max allowed both Robin and Steve rant a little about their new lives in Spain now that they were awake, she felt a little guilty over waking them up (mostly because the hadn't had the chance to talk a lot lately). After hearing how well was doing Robin at this company she was working as a translator and how nice were the kids she was tutoring and how Steve had been very stressed the last week hiring cooks for his restaurant, Max finally invited them to Will's first gallery.

It was no surprised for any of them that Will was already hosting a gallery of his art but both Robin and Steve felt suddenly very aware over the fact that it had been ten years since they left and last saw all of the party, they all had graduated now and were working their new paths.

They accepted the invitation gladly. Some vacations would be good from their new agitated life in Europe.

Max of course didn’t tell anyone other than Dustin.

Around a two weeks later when they arrived they decided to visit a gay bar that Max told them about the day she called them in the middle of the night claiming she had just gone the day before (both Steve and Robin had found it odd but the kids were odd anyways so they didn’t question it)

After leaving all their luggage in their hotel and heading to the bar they waited around twenty minutes before they could finally enter, and as soon as they did it they started to fight over who was going to get drunk, because of course Steve claimed it was Robin’s turn to take care of him because he took care of her after that party they had in Catalonia, but Robin reminded Steve that she had to run his restaurant a whole day (which was horrible because Robin can’t handle the stress of such a crowded place) that time Steve had been hungover after a party in Barcelona. So the fight keeps going on and reaches a bartender who is laughing excitedly at the sight of two (still) sober friends throwing in their faces the times they had to take care of the other.

So the bartender promises he will be back and leaves still amused because he has to serve more drinks, that's his work, the thing is he had to serve specifically Nancy and Eddie’s drinks who happen to in the same bar together (after forming a very nice friendship discovered by their mlm and wlw solidarity). After all, after Steve and Robin left they were all they had before moving to Massachusetts, Nancy going to college and Eddie working around in the music scene that Salem and Boston had.

Hence why when Steve screamed that he was not going to drink soda and sparkling water when there was Tequila in front of him both Nancy and Eddie turned to find their old friends, because they could recognize those voices everywhere. They could even after ten years. Yet no words came out of their mouths, they were both gaping at a loss of words.

Mostly because Steve looked so different now, he’s wearing glasses but they suit him amazing, and he has a new haircut that enhances his jawline not to leave behind the fact that Eddie can tell Steve is still in very good shape even from the distance, and it bothers Eddie, it really does, because who gave Steve the right to look so good even after all these years. He was supposed to be the guy who peaks in high school and then has his downfall, but if anything, he looked better than he ever did (something the old 21 year old Eddie would find impossible because Harrington was already the definition of perfection back in the day). He is glowing, Steve was genuinely shining, he looked like a whole different person.

And Robin, she has long hair now, it goes all the way to the curve of her waist and Nancy tries to focus on that detail but she can't, she can't do that because Robin is laughing and smiling when Steve tries to reach the Tequila bottle and Robin is fighting him to not do it, but even when Steve is next to her, she looks like she’s the only one in the room, or at least the only person Nancy wants to pay attention, and Nancy isn’t sure if this is how she remembered Robin ten years ago.

And Steve let’s go of the tequila bottle when he makes eye contact with Eddie, Eddie Munson, who is standing a few meters away from them, wearing his classic leather jacket and vest combo. He looks taller but Steve is almost sure is because he’s wearing boots. His hair is even longer now but Steve can’t tell how longer because it’s tied on ponytail that allows Steve to see all the new piercings Eddie has gotten, it also allows Steve to see his neck and for some reason that gives him a chill. So Steve froze, because he remembered wishing to meet a girl with the same facial features that Eddie had back in the day when he didn’t knew some things about him. He knows things about him know, and Eddie is there.

Robin doesn’t get any time to scold Steve for letting the bottle fall because she finds herself in the same situation when Nancy, next to Eddie, smirks at her. And Robin feels like she 17 again because that’s the same smirk Robin remembers ranting Steve about how she was tired of liking people who would never like her back (the same night that they decided to ran away) Nancy being one of them.

When times moves as it should once again the bartender comes to the rescue and finally catches the bottle, speaking at the same time, bringing them back from the shock.

"Little gift from them—" he mutters placing in front of Robin and Steve two shots of tequila as he nodded towards their staring opponents.

It tastes sour, Steve and Robin immediately remembered why they hadn’t drank tequila in a long while, the Barcelona party had been almost a year ago. Exchanging a witty look they both wondered if the fight that they just had was worth it because they no longer enjoyed alcohol like they did in Italy and France, at the beginning of their adventure. A not so proud moment of them.

With a loud clash on the counter they left their caballitos behind and decided to reach Eddie and Nancy. And it’s awkward, it’s always awkward, mostly because Nancy and Eddie were still hurting a little over the fact that they left, as much as they didn’t want to admit it. And Robin and Steve are scared, because they know it wasn’t the best way to leave, so most of their polite chat comes in short sentences and whispers, which isn’t good because the music is loud and it’s actually hurting Steve who has to lower the volume of his hearing aid, something only Eddie notices but is scared to ask.

But they try, and Nancy as bold as she always is takes the first step and invites Robin to dance. And they disappear in the crowd, Robin giving a slight nudge to Steve to push him to try, but nothing comes on. Steve tried first and asked Eddie if he preferred Italian or French food because he could cook any of them if he ever wanted but Eddie hasn’t tried any of them. Then Eddie gives it a chance and asks Steve what does he think about the recent Grammy nominations but Steve is lost because he barely knows what music is trending, most of the time the ambience of his restaurant is in charge of the managers. So they stop.

Steve doesn’t try again but attracts Eddie’s attention when he laughs after seeing a girl wearing a Padres shirt in the bar because he’s a Mets fan. And Eddie just jokes that he’s actually a Padres fan (he doesn’t know much about baseball but Wayne is a Padres fan and he is one by inheritance) so Steve is about to apologize when a guy interjects and claims he’s a Mets fan too.

And Steve feels good to find another Mets fan, but this wasn’t the circumstances he wanted to find one, and he doesn’t have the heart to cut him or politely decline him because he hasn’t done this in a while, the restaurant consumes most of his time and he already had a few ‘friends’ who he hung with, so the guy just keeps going over the season and the players. But he stops, he stops when Eddie throws his arm around Steve and pulls him a little closer to him. The poor ginger just stumbled a few times before he went back to his friends a little embarrassed.

"Figured you needed help" eases in Eddie and Steve smiles, genuinely. And that’s it, that was the breaking point they needed, because after that none of them can shut up, and neither separate, because unconsciously (totally consciously) Steve grabbed Eddie by the waist and pulled him closer too.

So when Nancy and Robin laugh seeing them Steve can’t help to roll his eyes sensing his best friend eyes, but he doesn’t care because he feels okay like this. And he can also see the way Nancy’s hand never left the curve of Robin’s back as she guided her dancing. He can also tell there is a slight blush under her freckles, and they’re both sarcastic and know each other too well so the next morning is gonna be embarrassing for both of them, but that doesn’t feel important right now.

The night goes on, at some point Eddie asks if Steve wants to leave and they do, about four hours later he arrives at his hotel only to find Robin arriving at the same time and they both laugh over the fact that they had only come back to the hotel to not worry the other. They both fall asleep before they can tease the other.

The next morning Eddie and Nancy are waiting for them in front of the hotel.

Both Max and Dustin laugh maliciously and high-five each other when Steve and Eddie arrive together and Steve is wearing Eddie’s leather jacket that he lent him last night when he drove him back to the hotel. Nancy and Robin are just behind, Nancy helping Robin to do the tie she had completed her outfit with.

So when Mike ask Max if the bar he had recommended her (which turns out it’s a bar the 4 eldest know) was fun, she doesn’t know what to say, because she didn’t go. But she smiles.

"Yeah, it was pretty good" jokes Eddie answering Mike’s question while side eyeing Steve who just rolls his eyes and gives both Max and Dustin a we'll-talk-about-it-later look, even though he doesn’t have any complaints.

The day goes on, and the gallery is a success, they see the rest of The Party, and enjoy gathering with them, Steve and Robin try not to cry but every once in a while Eddie and Nancy catch their eyes looking glassy because they missed so much. But at the same time, both Nancy and Eddie notice the way Robin and Steve move, and they see the freedom in them, there is no hint of the fear they had in Hawkins. They also reach for the other constantly just for simple touches of reassurance and they can both see that if they hadn’t left, they wouldn’t be here today, so this feeling of hurt leaves both of them.

When the gallery ends, both Nancy and Eddie invite Robin and Steve to a double date everyday of the week before they have to go back to Spain.

And they need to figure out things because they’re living in different countries, and they all need to meet again because they’re not the teenagers they were, but they feel like they have time, unlike in the past, this time they feel and know there is a future, so they’ll work on it.

I hope this is well written because my wrist gave up almost at the end.

[requestomaestro]

Pedro Pascal's characters doing grocery shopping

Francisco Morales

Has a shopping list but the items are often doodled and difficult to decipher

Also has a plan and a precise order in which he gets the items so he doesn’t spend too much time in the grocery shop

Tries to make his shopping in the morning when there are fewer people 

Frankie is often tempted to go to the sweets aisle and get himself something bitter-sweet but very rarely actually puts something in the basket

Feels uncomfortable when someone sees him with a trolley full of beers which he buys for a night in with Benny, Will, and Santi

Actually prefers to go shopping in the farmers market but doesn’t have the time to do it every weekend

Din Djarin

That man is on a mission. His shopping list is as thoughtful as his travel plans

Always takes a trolley, no matter how big his list is because it’s easier to make a way in the crowd

Secretly hates older ladies who walk slowly in the store

Sound like an "in and out" type of guy, right? He wishes! He has to take Grogu with him which makes grocery shopping thousand times more difficult

Grogu always tries to use his powers to get something he wants from the shelf but that doesn’t work because Din immediately notices when something that isn't on the list gets in the trolley

Every time they pass the sweets aisle Grogu makes a joyful noise. Din just says,, No” and keeps on walking no matter the fuss from the child. However, sometimes he gets something for Grogu from the shelf next to the checkout

Very often has to wait to pay because the lady at the checkout is too busy playing with Grogu

Javier Peńa

His most often bought item are cigarettes but he prefers to buy them in a smaller shop next to his workplace

Hasn’t bought a vegetable in weeks but will spend 20 minutes choosing the best quality meat available (and within his budget)

His refrigerator is full of frozen food, has a few favorite types which he gets every time he goes grocery shopping 

If he sees someone from work in the shop, goes the other way and pretends to look at an item in the next aisle

Flirts with young cashiers who once in a while give him a discount

Buys whisky way too often but doesn’t care that the cashier is looking at him with a suspicious look

Maxwell Lord

If he has money he’s like a kid in the candy store. Loves sweets and buys a lot of them to stack (but eats everything in less than a week)

If not he becomes a coupon master and buys mostly breadsticks with different dips

His gulity pleasure: buying cheap wines with expensiv looking bottles

Has the superpower to sense free samples. Takes two of them, for himself and his imaginary wife

Smiles when he sees condoms by the cash register

Never uses self-service checkout

Javi Gutierez

Doesn’t like grocery shopping. Usually, Maria does it

The only exception is buying wine and cereal

Spends at least 30 minutes looking at bottles labels, and won’t buy anything that says,,2 for 5$”

Has a ranking of his favorite cereals and never buys just one box. Imidietly puts a box of cereal into the basket if there's a cool toy (imagine a Nic Cage cereal, he would buy every box from at least 5 stores)

Often has to ask for help to find an item but is incredibly nice to the staff

Has an unusual talent to tell just from the taste if a tomato was bought in the grocery shop or taken from a garden on his island

If no one is looking he rides the trolley

Pero Tovar

Just like Javier Peńa mostly buys meat. That’s all he needs to be happy and not hungry

Never skips a free sample but doesn’t talk to the staff and leaves as soon as a sample is in his hand

Rarely leaves the store without some kind of alcohol

Can’t use a self-service checkout, they make him furious

Doesn't take trolleys or baskets. Believes that he can carry everything in his arms (he can’t and drops items often)

Jack Daniels

Never makes a grocery list

Doesn't have time to cook, buys pre-prepared meals. His favorite is lasagne

Never leaves without a six-pack of beers (gets whisky from work)

Will talk and flirt with the lady giving samples 

Trolleys annoy him, most of the time he chooses baskets

Has a loyalty card but always forgets to show it to the cashier

90% of the time will take a pack of gum from the shelf next to the checkout

Oberyn Martel

He actually likes doing grocery shopping but only if someone prepares a list for him

Spends most of his time choosing the best-quality fruits

If he walks by an alcohol ally will definitely stop to look at champagne. If there’s a,, 2 for 5$" sale he takes 4 bottles.

Starts a conversation with somebody who buys the same item as he

Often buys condoms from the shelf next to the checkout

Has a loyalty card and is proud of it

Dieter Bravo

He doesn’t go grocery shopping. He eats on the set or gets a KitKat (which magically comes back the next day)

[o-pandora-o]

Baker MC: April Fool's Special

Baker MC strikes again! Fooling the Demon Brothers in April Fool's by their realistic cake. How would they react?

Note: I would like to apologize beforehand, some of the brothers turned out to be boring rather than funny. I will try to edit this when I have the time.

Lucifer:

[No image was available for this]

Background: You planned this with the Anti-Lucifer squad. You hid all his pen in his room leaving a suspicious "pen" that looks like the pen he usually use. Satan put a powerful spell on the pen, removing its sweet scent to avoid the suspicion. You put a hidden camera to see his reaction.

Luci daddy came home tired from all the things he'd done in RAD.

He still have some paper works to finish, he put the paper works in the table and sat on his chair.

Ya'll saw him eyeing the "pen"

He picked up the pen and was gonna start writing until he glared at the camera and crushed the pen.

It was a chocolate and strawberry cake

He licked the strawberry (the filling of the pen) that splattered near his mouth, made a grin, glared at the camera and said "Run."

You all ran for your lives, spreading inside the House of Lamentation

Did you succeed in running : Nope

Did you three hang from the ceiling: Yes

Ya'll saw him smirk and laugh like a madman afterwards

Bonus:

Lucifer took a picture of you three hanging from the ceiling and sent it in the group with Diavolo.

Ofc ya'll didn't knew, you were hanging from the ceiling

Levi made it a meme and posted it on Devilgram AND gave Lucifer and Diavolo a printed copy

April Fool's to you

Mammon:

Credits to: The BakeKing

It was your turn in making dinner and Mammon kept bugging you if he can help.

"No Mammon" you kept on saying but he was still bugging you.

You weren't really mad at Mammon (honestly you thought it's funny), but to make things interesting...

"I SAID NO MAMMON" you shouted at him.

"LOOK WHERE YER CUTTING HU--AAAAHHHH!!!" You cut your hand and blood was running.

"AAAAAH! LOOK WHAT YOU DID MAMMON" you screamed.

"MCCCCCCCC YOUR HAND" yes I can see Mammon He screamed loud enough that it can be heard at Diavolo's castle.

Glad you two are alone in the House of Lamentation though

You were wearing a long sleeved jacket and the "cake" was your hand; it was like a lava cake, instead of chocolate it was darkened and smoothened strawberry puree.

You glared at him and blamed him

Poor boi was crying, kept apologizing, and saying the lines of "I'm sorry", "I'm so dead", and "Let's take ya to the hospital".

He shitted on his pants and kept panicking poor boi

It was hilarious tho

He was crying and you couldn't hide the laughter

"Oi! Did someone hit ya in the head? WHY ARE YA LAUGHING YER HAND WAS CU-" and he he saw that the interior of the so called "hand" was made out of strawberry and strawberry puree.

"April Fool's Mammon!" you told him as you finally reveal your real hand.

"MC! Why did ya prank me?! It wasn't a good prank! I thought you-" You shushed him while you gave him a small bag of grimm.

"Is it for me? Are ya sure ya ain't pranking me this time?"

"Yeah, now buy what you want to buy, I will just go to my room for a while" you replied.

Cue you teleporting

It was a bag full of gold-coated chocolate that looks (and is heavy) like a bag of grimm.

"MCCCCCCC!!!!!"

The next few days you see Mammon pouting and murmuring things about you.

You felt bad so you left grimm on the floor of his room every time you were near it

Leviathan:

Credits to: The BakeKing

On April 1st, Levi was required to go to the school for academic purposes, so you took this chance to play a lil prank on him.

When Levi was away, you hid all the items that he usually use: computer, consoles, Azuki-tan pillow, and some Ruri-chan figures.

And you took time to make realistic cake that are very similar to those you hid.

When he was almost home, you placed all the realistic cake on his room.

You were supposed to go on a raid with him when he comes home

Cue him coming home and going to his room

You visited the him in his room, panic reflecting off his face.

"Levi, is there something wrong?" you asked

"Ah, it's this computer, it doesn't open! And it seems I'm kind of making a dent on it too. It's so weirdddddd" he said

He got a bit forceful and his finger created a hole on the computer

"Eh? Cake? Mc did you do this? Lmao"

You hand him a note that says "Look for the cakes, the location of the real ones lie at the last treasured cake"

"Oh boy mc a scavenger hunt, its like the new anime I was watching 'My fiancée is a criminal mastermind that kept giving me clues to find the missing items and bodies to make myself famous' " I'm really sorry I really suck at names

So he proceeds with finding all the cakes, and he got all the real things for his room however...

" MC where is my limited edition Ruri-chan that is dressed like a succubus?"

"It's there, it was with the other Ruri-chan figures" you said as you were looking at the figures that he was holding

Turns out Mammon saw all the goods on your room, and took the chance to get one since he knows it wasn't yours.

April fool's? I guess.

Satan:

Credits to: SideSurf Cake Studio

You were helping him in his cooking duty today.

You requested that both of you make human food because apparently you "missed the taste" of the cuisine.

So you took care of the usual ingredients of the cuisine: vegetables, onion, garlic, meat and etc.

He didn't know or did he that you secretly placed realistic cake counterparts of it.

When it was cooking time, he selected the cake counterparts (this boi might be smart but you were from the human world so he thought it was correct).

He started cutting an onion, to his dismay he saw a soft chocolate interior.

"Huh? That can't be right, I believe onions should either have violet, yellowish, or whitish hue inside"

"Hmmm yeah, let me try this one" you said as you grabbed another onion and proceed to cut it

"Hm, this one is the right one, I wonder what happened to that" you said

STOP THE CAP MC

"Hm, anyways I will proceed in cutting the rest"

Bottom-line all he cut was cake and what you cut the real one

"Satan, maybe you were cursed? All the ingredients that you touched turned into cake" you said as you were preparing to take the meal to the dining area.

"I suppose that is the case, however... "

"Hm?" you said as you were supposed to bring the meal outside.

"However I have outsmarted you MC, I knew it was you who made those realistic mini cakes" he said as he took a bite of the onion cake while grinning smugly

Smart boi #2

"I-uhhh No it was not- Hey wait a min! If you knew why did you continue to make me believe you were fooled!" you replied

"April Fool's MC~, if I didn't do that I wouldn't have  extra time to spend with you" he said as he got out patting your head

Satan, you slick son of a bish

Asmodeus:

Credits to: Etsy

This guy is late for school

Did you plan to make him late? Yes No

Cue flashback: you ruined his beauty sleep 3 times which resulted in kicking you out of his room and made him wake up late

Well even though he is late, he would still do his morning routine without rush

Priorities ✨

You put a small camera on top of his cabinet to see his reaction

After hours of bathing he sat down to his dresser

He grabbed his toner and when he squeezed it lightly it nothing came out

"Ehhh? That's weird, I could've sworn this is the new toner I bought" he squeezed it more and the toner was destroyed revealing a squished vanilla cake

He sighed and said "MC did it again"

He tried looking and poking all of his makeup just to make sure it's not mini cakes

10/10 are all mini cakes

He saw a note that said "In the drawer lies the real make up hehe April Fool's day!"

When he came to RAD, he was already late for 4 hours

"MC when I said I wanted Makeup mini cakes, I wanted it for my birthday! Not today!"

Is disappointed at you

Will frown and pout when he pass by at you during school

Well you feel bad at pranking him so you treat him at an exclusive spa

Beelzebub:

Credits to: The Custom Cake Shop

I mean Bell eats everything, so is there even use?

Beel had the whole day working out

Since he didn't have much money (not that you persuaded him to bring less, no-) his only option is to go home and eat

During the time he was working out, you made different flavored cakes and pastries into dishes. You made a ton of (chocolate-strawberry cake into) cheeseburger, (cheesecake) devildom sushi, cake turned into slushy (the container can be eaten too), plates can also be eaten, etc.

Well you made Beel drool, he didn't waste time so he sat down and took a bite of the cheeseburger

He was slightly shocked because it was sweet rather than savory

But that didn't stop his hunger

It was about 10 mins till he finished what you have created in 12 hours (and more)

"MC all you made was really delicious, now I want something salty to eat...Let's eat dinner!" he said as he dragged you to eat

April fools to you

After that whenever you gave him something to eat/drink (like a glass of slushy or something) he would try to also eat the container

Poor kitchenware and Luci's budget

Belphie:

[No image was available for this]

This boi knows

Smartboi #3

You gave him a pillow that is the same as the pillow he usually carries

He didn't really say anything about it, but he knows for a fact that it is cake

He slept on it

Your hard work in making it realistic,, he slept on it

You came back to his room and you wait for him to wake up

"Mcccccc, this is so fluffy like my favorite pillowww, but it's not really a good way to prank someone, but on the other hand it's really convenient...."he said as he yawns and signals you to come to his bed

He took a bite of the errrr pillow and said" This is really good, like the last time you made a toilet paper, but you know what else is good?"

My love for you jk

" Hm?" you replied

" This!" he said as he began tickling your sides

You fight him back and tickle his sides when you had the chance

It ended of as you two were panting and laughing in bed

Poor cake pillow forgotten

[keiarchived]

Happy Birthday, Keigo 

soft!Hawks x reader

warnings: Fluff, comfort, comedy kinda

words: 968

note: A little something for our favourite bird boi’s birthday, did I make myself cry a little whilst writing this? You bet 🥲

「 I’ll catch you if you fall 」

Keigo have long forgotten the last time he properly celebrated his birthday, sure parties were thrown every year by staffs at his agency, sometimes Rumi would drag him along so her friend doesn’t drown in sorrow whilst drinking alone. But at the end of the day, Keigo always return home to an empty lifeless apartment.

But this year is different — he have you, waiting on the other side of that door. Christmas decorations are still littered over the place, to the point he almost failed to recognise his own apartment when the festive season came around. But it wasn’t something Keigo couldn’t used to, in fact he quite enjoys the warm and cosy feelings these decorations brings. It makes it feel more like a home, one that’s less lifeless and lived in.

As if you haven’t surprised Keigo already with Christmas, celebrating in ways he wouldn’t usually do but it felt nice. To spend such a lonely season with someone other than liquor and cigarettes, having a proper Christmas dinner and opening presents in forever. 

There are only so much information about Hawks, the number two hero that are public. Age, birthday, height, weight, favourite food and what not. It is only nature for you to wanted to know more about him, but the time will come when he is read and you’re willing to wait for it. Reading up information on the official hero commission site is enough for now, at least he trusts you with his real name; Keigo. You found out about his birthday just a few days prior whilst browsing social media, keeping up with different heroes’ birthday is a pretty common thing after all. Of course Keigo had forgotten to mention it to you, a birthday party is the last thing on his mind after what happened last year and truth be told — he isn’t looking forward to the one his agency have planned this year.

Rather than a party, you decide to surprise him with something small. Just simple something between the two of you, taking advantages of sales and discount available after Christmas. You managed to get quite a few things whilst staying within budget, just few days before you gifted Keigo a pair of new gloves for Christmas so you went ahead and got him a couple of things more. A new pair of earrings, eyeliner and new headphones that he could use outside of work. There’s nothing wrong with spoiling you bide man right?

On the day of Keigo’s birthday, he still seemed pretty clueless as to what you had planned for them later evening which is good. Upon bidding him good bye with a kiss on his cheek, wishing him good luck with work. You smiled to yourself before getting everything prepared, food cooked, presents wrapped, room decorated and cake picked up. It may be a lot of work to do for the day, but its for him so it worths the effort.

As expected, Keigo’s agency threw a party for him much like last year and the year before. “Oh fuck...” He mumbled to himself, having to completely forgot about what day it is and needless to say; he had forgotten to tell you. So unlike those previous years — he only stayed a little while before making some sort of excuse to leave early, managed to dodge the bullet with Rumi too. If Keigo is honest, he wasn’t expecting for you to have plan anything — he assumed you were as clueless as he is to begin with. So when the click was heard, door swings open slowly it only revealed a familiar darkness. Maybe you had already settled in bed? With a quick glance towards the clock, it is pretty late since Keigo got home.

“Birdie?” He called quietly, as if scared to wake the sleeping beauty hiding in his bedroom. But yet again, Keigo was greeted by nothing but the eerie silence as he tread carefully. Where are you? Out shopping? Meeting a friend? Family? Normally you would let him know via text before heading out, but today he have got no text from you what’s so ever which is strange to begin with. First Keigo brushed it off buf now, maybe he should’ve called earlier. What if you were kidnapped by villains? A payback attempt they try to use against him, what if —

“Surprise!” Before Keigo could be pulled deeper into his own suffocating thoughts, his pupils shrinks, feathers ruffled as he froze in place with a leg up. This time you sure did caught him off guard, “Happy Birthday! Thought I would do something special since - Keigo?” However, before you could trail off and go into a ramble of your own, your attention was caught by the winged hero who chuckles with a faint blush dusted over his cheeks. “Yeah sorry, you just kinda took me by surprise.” He admits, a sheepish smile stretches over his lips whilst those crimson feather begins to smooth out themselves. “Buttt I love it, thanks chick. Honestly, this might be the first time in a while since I’ve celebrate my birthday. Doesn’t feel so bad now that you celebrating it with me.”

There are still plenty of mysteries you have yet to discover about this winged Hero; Hawks. But he’s someone worth waiting for, you just know it. “Well, hopefully you wouldn’t have to celebrate your birthday alone ever again.” The way Keigo’s eyes lit up, he felt a sense of warmth and security he had never before with anyone else. He is not alone anymore, Keigo have you. Maybe this time, he can finally let you in atlas. “Promise me to smile more?” You coos, fingers lifting each corner of his lips up playfully. “Promise.”

“Happy Birthday Keigo, my little winged hero.”

[twilitty]

Moonlit ch.1

This is the first chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every week and a half. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3k words

big thank you to my beta reader @effervescentlyirrevocable who has given me the absolute best criticism and helped make this chapter so beautiful :)

Bella moves to Forks Washington, her first week is uneventful. This fic has aged up characters, making them all at entry-college level ages.

Chapter One

My senses are sharper in Forks than they were in Phoenix, I’ve only been here a handful of days yet everything seemed brighter, louder, more alive than my past home. There was something here for me, something that made me feel more alert than I have in years.

The sound of heavy rain slowly pulls me out of my restless sleep, an elbow is thrown across my eyes in an attempt to keep the real world at bay. It’s always raining, the mist layering the ground never abandons its post, and the chilly air seemingly lasts indefinitely. The rainy town of Forks Washington sooner resembles my personal hell than it does a sleepy old town. The forest that borders the town at each cardinal point is layered in green moss, damp dirt, and an endless supply of fresh animal tracks. I’d moved to Forks only a week ago, the sum of which was spent unpacking dreadfully thin clothing and acquainting myself with the few stores and public access areas the town has to offer.

My father, Charlie, has had little to do with this process apart from moral support and the occasional bag of fast food that he’s picked up while on shift. Charlie is the town's police chief, a job that both seems ill-needed and also unbearably boring. How much crime can be committed in a town of fewer than ten thousand citizens? Other than the odd tag on a school building or bush party, what does his shift consist of? I have yet to bring my insulting opinions on his career to his attention, and likely will never do so. He’s a good man with a heart of gold and a passion for the judicial system, which is ever-present in his TV browsing as he cruises through endless episodes of Law & Order.

I’m not a big TV person, even back home in Phoenix, I preferred reading to the television. Perhaps this was related to my mother’s endless stack of yoga DVD’s that seemed to consume our viewing; her in a downward dog position gossiping about her latest advancements at her newest club membership, me sitting on the couch finishing a craft for her so she won’t be late submitting it. My favourite of her crafts was embroidery, one month I embroidered nearly two hundred dandelions on a pair of jeans for her. She gave them to the club administrator as an apology before she quit.

Regardless, at night when the TV is blaring the intro theme to a cop show, I am curled in bed with a book under my nose and headphones in my ears. Blocking out the rain is a full-time chore.

This morning is a particularly eventful morning, not because of any specific events, but rather the events that will be set into motion because of this morning. Today is the first day of my online college courses. I’m currently enrolled in an undeclared major. My hope is that the three courses I’m taking this spring term will help me decide on what I want to do in the future.

Charlie had given me a new laptop upon my arrival in Forks, a current model with modest upgrades to “enhance my academic experience”. Or at least that’s what the box boasted. I am not entirely convinced that a larger memory will miraculously cure me of my educational despise. High school was tortuous, I had few friends and fewer interests outside of my mother’s hobbies. I had no extra-curricular activities that were not synonymous with financial responsibilities. The monthly budget book was mine to care for, as was the constant, intrusive phone calls of the bank when my mother got too engaged in a store. She’s a gullible woman if nothing else. If a store clerk tells her a blouse suits her figure, she’ll purchase ten colours in the article along with two in a size lower just in case she finally loses the ten pounds she’s been trying to shed.

My eyes have barely opened, the down of my forearm just a fraction away from my pupil when Charlie pounds against my door. You’d imagine I was fostering a fugitive in here with the noise he’s making, but this is just the way my father is, loud noises and soft voices. I wonder, idly, if perhaps he has minor hearing loss from spending so much time around guns.

“I’m up!” I call out, my voice is thin and calloused with morning sleep. I clear my throat as the knocking cuts off, “Good morning, Dad.” Charlie doesn’t like me calling him Charlie.

“Morning, Bells,” he calls back through the door, quiet enough to not be taken as aggressive yet loud enough to sound authoritative. He is a father, my father, at heart. He pauses, and it’s as if I can hear the mental gears shifting in his mind. He hasn’t had to be a father since I was a baby, after that Renee was the parent. Charlie was the summer distraction. “Don’t be late for school.” I grunt a response, reaching for the alarm clock on my nightstand and groaning at the early hour of the morning. Barely eight, class doesn’t officially start until noon. I guess there’s nothing wrong with logging in early, although I’d much rather catch up on the sleep I’ve lost to the thunderous storms we’ve been experiencing recently.

As if he could sense my intentions, Charlie knocks against my door again. “Bella, I mean it. You didn’t come here to slack off, now.” No, I think nastily, I came here for peace and quiet.

Between unpacking my belongings and touring the town, I’ve developed a routine in my new living situation. Charlie is fond of my company, enjoying having a woman in the house outside of his ex-wife, my mother and ex-roommate. Although, his fondness of my presence does not directly translate to time spent together. He makes me breakfast, occasionally placing it in the oven to keep warm, and then immediately heads off to his family that is the Forks police station. We meet again for lunch, depending on our individual plans for the day, and then reunite again just in time for dinner. Food really is the great American pastime.

I dress in jeans and a light blue sweater that smells mysteriously of mildew although it’s a recent purchase and has yet to be worn outdoors. I suppose the rain permeates every available space, closed windows be damned. My socks are tall and I have to roll my jeans up at the bottoms to accommodate for the thick, high fabric of them. It’s a trick Charlie taught me for wearing rain boots, the higher the socks the less likely they are to run down to your toes as you walk. Immediately after that trick was taught I went to the nearest hiking store and purchased a pair of rain boots. My first pair of rain boots at nineteen years of age. Unfathomable yet ironic considering my lineage marks back to the wettest town in the continental US. My ancestors roll in their graves every time I step outdoors and forget a jacket or umbrella, I’m sure of it.

Charlie is waiting for me downstairs, both a surprise and unwelcome presence. I had a battered copy of Dorian Gray under my arm, I was expecting philosophy and moral ambiguity, not idle conversation. Before the chief notices my book, I slide it over the back of the couch and enter the kitchen with a polite smile. There’s bacon frying on the stovetop, the police chief is dressed in uniform already, but has a stained white apron tied around his neck. “Dad?”

“Oh,” he turns around and gives me a tight smile, “Excited for your big day?” You’d imagine it’s my first day of preschool with the amount of enthusiasm he’s trying to keep hidden from me, not my first day of online school. I don’t say anything to dampen his mood, I’m glad he’s excited about something. His life is repetitive, if my existence here proves to be no more useful than just disrupting his schedule, it will still be a success.

“Yeah, I guess.” He turns back to the bacon and shifts it around quickly, the grease snapping up at him. If it burns him he doesn’t show it, just maintains the stiff-backed posture of a respectable police officer cooking his daughter breakfast. “I’ve gotta ask, what’s up with the apron?” I stifle a giggle behind a bite of the toast that’s sitting in the middle of the small table. He shakes his head in faux annoyance.

Charlie takes the pan off the hot element, sliding the bacon onto two plates and pouring the grease into an open can. The second trick he taught me since arriving here: never pour grease down the drain.

“I’m in uniform, it would be disrespectful to the badge to stain it.” He slides a plate of bacon in front of me, sitting down in his designated seat across the table. “Besides,” he takes a sip of coffee from his to-go mug. “Can you imagine walking into a police station smelling of fried pig?”

Breakfast ends quickly. We each eat a piece of toast, Charlie stuffing a second piece into a plastic bag “for later” and heading out the door. I still have half a plate of bacon in front of me after he leaves, the maple glaze filling the small kitchen with its smell.

After my Mom and Charlie got married, Renee redecorated much of the house. Her lace curtains still hang in the master bedroom window, constantly drawn closed. The rest of the house has been minorly updated with age, the TV got bigger, the couch more comfortable, new bed linens and even newer rocking chairs on the porch. I had asked Charlie if they were Moms when I first came up to the house a week ago.

They were rocking gently in the wind, the wood seemed to be polished as it shined in what little light filtered through the depressive clouds. They were sitting side by side, matching pillows on them both, a coffee table in the middle with a stack of coasters. It was an old person's porch, where husband and wife would sit all grey and wrinkled, waving at the neighbourhood kids as the bus dropped them off from school. I could almost picture Charlie and Renee sitting there, her knitting a scarf and him content to just watch her and the scenery.

He informed me that they were relatively new, a purchase from a shop down on the Reservation. We haven’t spoken about them since, but I wonder if perhaps he wishes he had someone to sit out there with him.

I spend the morning before class doing odd chores around the house. It’s nice living at Charlie’s, nicer than I had expected it to be. I’m not a fan of the weather or the fact that I currently have no social life, but it’s nice to just sit. I throw my laundry in the wash and manage to get the kitchen cleaned up with just enough time left over to sit on the couch and read a chapter of my book before class.

School has never been my strong suit. That’s not to say I get poor marks or intentionally skip classes, I just never found it as fulfilling as my peers seemed to. I never woke up and looked forward to the social or academic aspect of high school. Perhaps this contributed to me postponing my college experience and only starting it now when I should already be a year into my program.

When I log into my schools online database and click on my first class, Social Psychology 1001, I’m immediately transported to a screen filled with windows and the faces of my classmates. “Hello, class!” The professor's voice calls out over my computer. Perhaps online school won’t be my strong suit either.

Class ends and the next one starts, and I get through all three classes and an hour's worth of homework by the time Charlie pops in for dinner.

“Hey, Bells,” He calls as he opens the front door. I can hear him from where I sit in the kitchen, hanging his gun belt up by the front door and kicking his boots off into a heap on the floor. I imagine Mom back in Phoenix, walking into the house with arms full of bags and tossing her flip flops onto her pile of shoes beside the coatrack she used for purses. Some things won’t ever change.

“How was work?” I ask. He pauses to poke his head into the kitchen, moustache moving as he chews on his lip. I can’t remember when Charlie initially grew out his moustache, just that one summer I arrived and thought could he look more like a cop?

“Good, good, just some meetings. New family moving into town, all foster kids around your age.” He takes pause, staring off into some middle ground in the hallway as if deep in thought. His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t want any trouble makers coming in, but the father seems nice. Respectable.”

“That’s nice,” I contribute conversationally. Charlie and I rarely have material conversations, always just idle talk of the weather or what's for dinner. I’m not entirely sure how to approach this topic, which clearly seems to be occupying his mind.

“Yeah, he’s a doctor.” He grins at this, toothy and a little crooked to the right side. A pang of embarrassment settles in my chest before he speaks, as if knowing where this will turn. “Perfect for you, considering how often your clumsiness-” I wave a hand over my face, grimacing at his words. “Don’t speak it into existence,” I mutter with a half-hearted plea underlying my words. He chuckles, disappearing up the stairs.

I hear the shower turn on after a few minutes of him fumbling around, presumably trying to get undressed. I’m sure once he’s showered and in sweatpants it’ll be twenty questions about my day of school. I’m not sure I have the heart to break the truth to him: it absolutely sucked.

The material was interesting enough, psychology has always been close to my heart. I loved the idea of people being more than their actions and thoughts, that there was something making them say that or something making them act that way. Perhaps this was yet another symptom of having Renee for a mother.

I sit at the kitchen table for a moment longer, my computer is closed in front of me and my pencil case- dreadfully unnecessary with school being online-sits closed and untouched. I haven’t made any friends in my classes, not that I had expected to. Twelve years of public school and no friend group to show for it, just a few texts every couple of weeks. Why would I have believed college, and an online college at that, would be any better?

Having enough with my thoughts, I get up from the table and pack my things into my bag. I’ve completed enough work for today, the rest of the evening I’ll spend either with Charlie or in my room. I’d rather not be nose deep in pdf textbooks and youtube videos constituting as follow-up lectures, I’ve had enough of that today. As if sensing the immediacy of my departure from the kitchen, the shower cuts off and I hear the bathroom door squeak open. For a man who, until recently, lived alone with too much free time, you’d imagine he’d have taken better care of the house. Nearly every door, except my own, creaks open and closed. I made sure to oil my hinges nearly immediately after moving in, I didn’t want Charlie to wake up every time I sneak downstairs for a comfort snack or warm glass of milk to help me sleep. He’s lived alone for nearly twenty years, he doesn’t need his sleep schedule disrupted now.

“The game is on in-” Charlie pauses as if double-checking the times mentally, “- an hour and a half. Are you interested?” He’s calling from up the stairs. I wonder if he truly wants me to watch the game with him, whatever sport it may be, or if he’s only being polite.

“Uh, I was just going to organize my room right now and then maybe make something for dinner,” I say in response. The floors don’t make a noise and I know he’s heard me, but he doesn’t respond. A lump forms in my throat, perhaps he really did want to watch with me.

“That’s fine, but if you want we can order in?” The lump passes and I convince myself that there is no reason to avoid the TV. It’s not like I’ll be a disruption, if I get bored I can read on the couch. I’ve only watched TV with Charlie on a few occasions since my move here, and each time I strategically saved my questions for the commercial breaks.

“Sure! That works.” The floorboards creak and I hear him retreat into his room, the door closing with a pitiful squeak.

We eat pizza on the couch, a large meat-lover for the carnivorous father and a small vegetarian with extra mushrooms for the daughter who cares about her cardiovascular health. We eat slowly, occasionally Charlie will make a face at the television or mumble something under his breath, but other than that we’re quiet. The sport turns out to be baseball and I recall a few of the basic rules from the tragic gym classes of my past. It’s not disastrous in any way, and surprisingly I don’t get bored. There is something relaxing about the repetitive nature of the game.

After the game ends we box up the remaining slices and put them in the fridge to be eaten tomorrow, say good night, and go our separate ways at the top of the stairs.

taglist:

@musingsofvenus @maybesandohnos

[fanficnewbie]

Afternoon Delight

OPEN HEART: SECOND YEAR - CHAPTER EIGHT

(ETHAN x FEMALE MC)

MC is Dr. Francesca Houseman *This entry takes place the day after Francesca leaves Ethan’s apartment, but before she helps Jackie rescue Kyra. 

Word Count: 2675  Rated: Teen

A companion piece to: --Alan Weighs In --Sienna Weighs In Ch 8

Hello all! I guess you can say that I have been on hiatus right along with OH2. Honestly, their second break pissed me off and I needed to escape the on again/off again relationship I found myself in with this book. However, Ethan is my boo and I can never stay away that long. After finding some closure on some personal issues I’ve been dealing with, I felt the need to return to the fandom and my writing. I want to give a big thanks to @heauxplesslydevoted whose fanfics actually helped to stir my creative juices again.

This story takes place in a small but available window of time which allows for Ethan to give MC the leftover chicken dish, and discuss what happened the night before outside of his condo. It works perfectly fine as a standalone to the OH2 C8 storyline, but I did include hints from two of my other Ch 8 fanfics. So, if you want the “surround sound” experience, you can read those as well.

Otherwise, just thanks so much for your patience and continued support!

AFTERNOON DELIGHT

Francesca hesitated at the door, willing herself to go inside. 

Despite the confrontation with Sienna the night before, she had gone to bed practically giddy with the memory of Ethan’s passionate kiss outside of his condo earlier that same evening. However, the morning had welcomed her with waves of discouragement and defeat. The last time Ethan has broken one of his rules with her, he left the Continent for two months. Francesca went through her morning routine unable to shake the feeling that this too, would not end well.

Trying to avoid Ethan at the hospital had been an exercise in futility as he was waiting for her in one of their patient’s rooms, ready to assess the progress of a new treatment plan. As they exited into the hallway, he explained that as promised, he’d brought her lunch and hoped she could meet him for a bite in a few hours. With no readily available excuses on hand, she had accepted. But instead of feeling buoyed by his follow-through, her sense of dread remained.

Unable to talk to Sienna about the latest developments, Francesca instead tried to imagine what she would tell her… Silly, if he was going to push you away again, he wouldn’t invite you to lunch. He saved you the chicken! Unfortunately, Francesca’s imagination was extremely adept at playing Devil’s Advocate, Not unless he wants to dump me again over lunch and is using the chicken to try and appease my feelings. Then Jackie’s unexpected voice chimed in, That checks out.

Francesca groaned against her betraying thoughts as she took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Ethan’s muffled voice greeted her, “Come in.”

Grasping the handle she willed her stomach to stop churning and put on a bright face. Everything is normal, be normal, don’t act strange. She smiled as she crossed the threshold, letting the door close shut behind her. She took in the expanse of the office, decorated in rich wood tones. In the center stood a stately mahogany desk covered with files and spreadsheets, two chairs faced the large piece of furniture and a couch sat against the wall behind them. To the left, bookcases lined the walls, overflowing with medical texts and manuals on various policies and procedures. Ethan stood on the far right side of the room, next to a small round table with four chairs. She could tell he had moved the paperwork covering that space to the credenza behind it, making room for his lunchtime display. 

Ethan looked up and his heart constricted. How was she always so damn beautiful? She stood by the door watching him warily, her hair was pulled back into an uncharacteristic ponytail, but a few rebel curls had broken free and lightly grazed her face. He secretly loved her in her white lab coat, it spoke to her brilliance, her status as one of the best doctors at Edenbrook. The blue dress she wore was also one of his favorites, although modest and professional, it somehow managed to accentuate every one of her curves. 

Noticing she hadn’t moved, he motioned to his set-up and gestured for her to come over and her to sit down. She looked as nervous as he felt and he smiled to put her at ease, although it was clear that neither of them actually were. He had barely slept last night, all that had been on his mind was what he would say to her, how he would explain what happened. 

Francesca crossed the breadth of the office and sat down as Ethan scooped some of the chicken and rice from the night before on dishes borrowed from the cafeteria. “I had to fight my father for the leftovers. This turned out better than expected.”

“It smells delicious but…”

Ethan looked up, “But?”

“Why are we doing this in Naveen’s office?”

Ethan chuckled as he sat down, “Well, I knew we couldn’t escape the hospital but I did promise you lunch, and this office provides much more privacy than my own. Naveen is in Board meetings all day and said I could use it.”

“Does he know I’m here?”

Ethan shrugged, “I didn’t feel the need to mention why I needed privacy. Before the budget crisis we were talking about frosting the glass in the Diagnostic Office. I understand modern design, but I always feel like I’m in a fishbowl.”

Francesca nodded and grabbed her napkin, twisting it in her lap. She wanted to agree with his assessment but couldn’t find the easy-going tone to continue the conversation. She hated that she suddenly felt so awkward in his presence. When he had set boundaries, as unwelcome as they were, she understood her position with him. But last night he had crossed those boundaries and as much as she relished his touch, now she felt unmoored. It was a very unexpected reaction. She had pined over him for months, wanting nothing more than his uninhibited affection. But deep down she knew that Ethan didn’t know how to be uninhibited, and that every forward step he took with her came at a dire cost for both of them.

Ethan looked up mid bite and noticed she was staring at her plate. “Is everything alright? You’re not eating.”

She looked up and forced a smile, “No, of course, I’m just happy you remembered to bring me some.” Ethan knew she wasn’t being fully transparent. He started to wonder if he had misread their encounter last night. He never expected her to be so dispirited. All this time he had been certain that she wanted him to act on his romantic interest in her, but suddenly he wasn’t so sure. They continued to eat in tense silence, until he finally spoke, “Francesca, about last night, I’m sorry that…”

“No.” Francesca surprised herself with her emphatic response but she knew where it came from. She was not ready to listen to Ethan explain away his actions and construct another wall between them. At that moment she wanted to get up and run out of the office, out of Edenbrook, and move far away from Boston. She wanted to turn back time so that she never met Dr. Ethan Ramsey, to when he was just an idea in her head, not the actual man sitting before her. She wanted to be in a time and place where the man who owned her heart no longer had the power to keep breaking it.

Meeting Ethan’s stunned face, she quickly dispelled her unrealistic escape plan and tried to cover for her outburst. “Um, I just meant that there was no need for you to apologize, of course you needed to talk to your dad. I’m glad you finally did. Are you guys better now?”

Ethan’s eyes betrayed a slight flicker of confusion as she changed the topic. He leaned back into his chair. “Um yeah, actually, it turned into a nice evening. He offered an in-depth explanation for his feelings towards my mother, and while I don’t think I’ll ever truly understand them, I’m at least in a place where I can respect him. He’s agreed to do the same for me, so it’s a good start, right?”

Francesca smiled genuinely, “It really is, I’m happy for you both.”

They continued to eat, the tension in the room mounting as Ethan lamented on how uncomfortable they suddenly were around each other. He started to second-guess every decision he had made over the past 18 hours.

Francesca took her last bite and realized that her excuse to leave had just presented itself, “Thank you Ethan, that was really great.” She put her napkin and fork down, preparing to leave the room when he placed his hand on her arm, stopping her.

“Please, wait.” She looked up, startled, as he reached into a bag and procured another small container. He smiled sheepishly as he handed it to her, “Dessert”.

Disappointed at her inability to leave, Francesca was still pleasantly surprised when she opened the container to discover a beautiful slice of cherry tart, “You made this?”

“Yes, my father and I made it last night after you left. We used the leftover cherries. He suggested I save you some as well. He likes you. He uh, he thinks you’re a good influence on me.”

Francesca bit her lip to keep from smiling, she liked Alan Ramsey too. Knowing how much he loved his son, it was comforting to know that he was on her side. At least one Ramsey male was honest about his feelings.

Resigned to staying a bit longer, she reached for her fork, “Well, please tell him that I said ‘thank you’”, taking a bite, her eyes widened. “Wow, this is delicious! The Ramsey men really do know their way around the kitchen. Another one of Nigella’s recipes?”

Ethan’s face lit up at the compliment, “No, this is actually a Ramsey original. We usually use raspberries but we figured the cherries would work. The trick is proportioning out the right amount of sugar to balance the sweetness or tartness of the fruit.”

Francesca found herself giggling at how animated he became while talking about cooking, it was a different and unexpected side of him.  

Buoyed by the moment of brevity, Ethan decided to go for it, “So, I stayed up all night thinking about everything. Our history, our work relationship, our entanglements, our feelings for each other, and the truth is, I’m at a loss.” 

Francesca’s stomach lurched as the conversation took the sudden turn she’d been avoiding, and Ethan slightly faltered as he met her guarded expression, “I just know that I kissed you last night because I wanted to, I’ve been wanting to for months and I could no longer hold back. I also know that I don’t want to keep preventing myself from kissing you anymore, but as for how it all fits in with everything else, I honestly haven’t figured that part out yet.”

Francesca sat in shocked silence as he reached for her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. “I promise that I’m not trying to lead you on or cause further confusion. But despite everything, the complications remain and I’m still struggling with how to best deal with them.”

She stared at their entwined hands as she felt him watching her, nervously waiting for her response. Nothing she expected to happen had happened, but she still wasn’t sure what was happening. 

Looking up, she cautiously met his gaze, “So, you’re not pushing me away this time?”

Even though it was deserved, Ethan grimaced at her expectation of him. What was ironic was that all the times he had kept her at arm's length, or tried to escape her completely, it was never his desire to do so. If it were up to him, they would have started their romance in Miami and things would have progressed from there. As much as he enjoyed his role as her mentor, he often wondered how different life would be for them if one of them had worked anywhere else. But then he’d always have to remind himself that Edenbrook is what brought them together, it was impossible to have one without the other.

“No, I’m not trying to create any more distance, but I also cannot make any promises as to how far we can take things right now. I want to move forward Francesca, I swear I do, but...”

“You’re still my boss.”

Ethan gave a reluctant sigh and nodded. 

Francesca gently squeezed his hand, “I understand.”

Ethan was unable to hide his mild surprise that she wasn’t challenging him on this again. “You do?!”

She shrugged, “Yeah. I experienced something with Elijah and his intern that helped me to see what you’ve been saying about us all along. I still don’t like it, but I get it now.”

Ethan sighed, “Is there something about Elijah’s intern I should know?”

Francesca shook her head, “Nope, not at all. I handled it.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed a bit, trying to figure out if he should trust her or not. In return, she gave him a coy smile, “So, wait…you just admitted that we’re allowed to kiss now, right?”

“Don’t try to change the subject, Rookie.”

Francesca leaned forward, elated by his confession, she was eager to see how far she could push him. “I’m just saying, we are locked away in an office, with…” she glanced at the clock, “about 10 more minutes to kill before Rounds. If you don’t want to stop yourself anymore, this is a pretty good opportunity.”

Ethan watched as Francesca’s shift in position exposed some of her cleavage and Elijah’s intern was immediately forgotten. He was instead consumed with memories of the night before, their bodies pressed together while he tasted her mouth. Warm heat pooled at Francesca’s core as his eyes darkened and he started to pull her towards him...his voice was suddenly low and commanding, “Come here.”

A thrill shot through her as she realized that he truly had turned a corner, his desire evident in the way his eyes freely roamed her over body. She moved from her chair to his, straddling herself in his lap as he snaked one hand through her hair at the nape of her neck and steadied her with another around her waist.

Their eyes met briefly as he pulled her down to meet his lips, Ethan swallowed Francesca’s satisfied sigh which immediately turned into a small moan and caused his grip on her to softly tighten. She grasped his shoulders as she fought for domination and balance, the warmth in her body turning molten as he deepened the kiss, pulling her tongue into his mouth and gently sucking on it.

The thin line they had been struggling not to cross for the past several months evaporated and the fact that they were still on-duty, at the hospital, no longer mattered. Francesca wound her hands around Ethan’s neck and settled further on his lap, barely resisting the overwhelming urge to grind against him. His hand flattened against the small of her back, slightly pressing her closer to him. Their lips separated only for the necessary time to inhale oxygen, otherwise they were interlocked in a kiss that seemed to defy the space/time continuum. Then Francesca’s phone pinged with an alert. It wasn’t until the subsequent ping, that they finally broke apart.

Flushed and breathless, Francesca pushed a loose curl from her face as she leaned back, “Rounds. I have to go meet Esme.”

Ethan’s grip on her loosened but he didn’t release her, “Go on, I’ll clean up here.”

Francesca nodded as he allowed her to stand up. She straightened out her clothes, and gathered her things, turning to him. “Thank you for lunch, it was...unexpected.”

Ethan stood up and pulled her to him for a brief moment, his lips lightly brushing against hers, “In a good way though.”

She smiled against his lips, “In the very best way.”

He released her again, only holding onto her hand, “We will figure this all out, I promise.”

She squeezed his hand before she let go, “I trust you.”

Francesca felt like she was walking on air as she turned and left the office. Suddenly a future with Ethan didn’t seem like the foolish dream of a lovesick colleague. For the first time since they had expressed any feelings or desire for each other, she truly believed that they actually had a chance at a professional and personal relationship. Her insides were bursting with joy...nothing can ruin this day.

Ethan sat back on the chair and lightly touched his lips, overwhelmed by how right it felt to have her in his arms. He knew he was wading into dangerous territory and for once, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he needed to find a clear path to creating an actual relationship with Francesca. He could finally admit to himself that he had fallen completely in love with her.

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[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 191

191

   Lance spent every moment he could before they left making sure the house was cleaned from top to bottom, then bottom to top. The nursery had gotten his blood flowing again, Pidge roped into playing delivery person for him as he fixed up his garden, mulched and pruned, then scolded himself over spending so much money. Then there was Pidge’s birthday party that they’d nearly missed as Lance had let the days of the week slip by. If it hadn’t been for Hunk, they would have been fined a hefty present tax, and had Pidge teasing them for the rest of their lives. The party was small, games and alcohol, Lance trying to do the catering, while Hunk tried to make sure he got in and did everything that needed to be done before Lance could do it. Moving felt better than sitting still. Keith letting him work until he was too tired, then would force feed him as he put him down for a nap... from which Lance would wake up and find himself cleaning again.

  Deep cleaning the house felt good. Keith putting up with hanging the washing out, then bringing it in. Everything from the linen cupboard hit with vinegar washes to kill any mould particles that thought they had a right to make themselves at home. The only room to escape was Matt’s and Rieva’s, as they were entitled to their privacy, and Rieva was being fussy over how many hours he was spending on his feet. He’d been banned from cooking by her, and even having to get up to pee earned him a scowl over being on his feet. She’d smacked when he’d tried to mow the lawn, pretty much chasing him back inside and forcing him to leave his precious lawn half mowed. He was an old man robbed of his pleasure as far as he was concerned. Sure, he was plenty sleepy during the day, but once he’d been stung with cleaning bug, it left him feeling useful, and being outside meant he didn’t have to listen to Rieva scolding Keith for letting him do too much.

  Honestly, when they’d left the house for their trip, the only thing he was sad about was leaving Blue and Kosmo behind. The pair seemed to think that his cleaning was for their benefit. They’d taken to playing in the middle of night, which spilled over into Blue less than ceremoniously waking them by jumping on Keith’s head as Kosmo barrelled up the bed to get to her. The pair thick as thieves and Blue not afraid to use her humans as a convenient escape. The drive was something like 6 hours, with Keith being on edge over how he’d react to being in the outside world again. His ego putting Lance’s ego on edge, leaving them having a spat just as they’d put their bags in the back of Lance’s bronco. Lance had faith that Keith could do this. Keith had anxiety gushing out of every pore by the bucket load. When Keith snapped at him, Lance had snapped back twice as hard.

  This led to a very tense first hour of driving. No radio. No snacks. No talking. There were plenty of snacks packed. All the snacks and drinks within hands reach sat on the backseat. Hunk had baked cookies, and sent along a bag with them, that they were absolutely not allowed to open until they reached the hotel. Their planned six hours seemed so long, until they reached the first unplanned stop on their trip. Keith pulling in at a service station, Lance knowing instantly that his boyfriend had to know he needed to pee. Even when they fought, Lance knew Keith still had his best interests in mind.

  With breaks in almost every small town they passed through, Lance felt like he’d peed his way half way up America. They’d stopped for lunch at a kind of backwards diner off the main road. The food greasy, the milkshakes icy, but the company made up for it. Being alone with Keith felt soothing, despite the shaky start. He didn’t have to adult. He didn’t have to run around after anyone. He didn’t have to worry about the tiny flecks of dust that seemed to have it their personal mission to settle almost immediately after he’d dusted. All he had to worry about was Braxton-Hicks contractions that worried him a whole heck less now he’d been through real ones, their twins spinning summersaults, and Keith’s terrible choice in music... that’d he’d never admit to secretly loving, especially when Keith would seem to forget he wasn’t alone and start singing along.

  Seeing Keith smile, and having his whole attention sent Lance’s ego into some kind of blissful state. His scent filling the car, accidentally, as he found himself getting horny from watching Keith be so happy. Keith teasing him as he pulled off the main road at the first available chance, for some very awkward car prepping in which Lance got a leg cramp and Keith smacked his head on the sun visor. It then progressed to out of the car sex, Lance lost in bliss all over again at the feeling of Keith’s hands over his skin as his head swam, drunk on Keith’s scent. He hadn’t known what he’d missing, or maybe he had, and that’d contributed to him discovering that he didn’t mind Keith biting his neck, or nipping at his nipples hard enough Lance was sure he’d end up pierced by Keith’s fangs. He’d been so caught up in cleaning, that being intimate had slipped the last few days. He’d become such a slut for Keith’s undivided attention that he could have purred contently, like a fat cat whole stolen a whole bottle of milk for himself.

  He hadn’t told his boyfriend, but he’d packed to play a girl depending on the kind of town it was. He looked female enough to pass. No fake chicken fillets were required to fill out a brallet anymore. He’d packed a wig, and a dress, kind of embarrassed over both, yet willing to face the embarrassment if it meant making the trip easier for his boyfriend. When they’d climbed back into his car, Keith was all smiles as Lance curled into him, ignoring his own rules over seatbelts and sitting properly in a car. He didn’t need to fear his car rolling over, not with Keith behind the wheel, plus leaning against Keith meant kisses on the top of his head as Keith drove, Lance unable to offer to drive thanks to no longer fitting comfortably and a new fear that they would crash and he’d lose the twins if his stomach impacted against the steering wheel. This was really nice. Just a vampire and his werewolf boyfriend off on a life changing trip, and some alone time, until they were party crashed in a couple of days by humans. Yeah. It was nice.

    *

The hotel was a piece of shit and Keith hated it. The town he’d once apparently called home, now verged on some kind of city. The sign in boasting a population of 3000 people, though you wouldn’t know it with sheer amount of people at the hotel. Kids were yelling as they played in the tiny pool in the centre of the U-shaped complex. Parents yelling at their spawn. Their room was upstairs, and the bedding so basic it made his bedroom look fancy. For a hotel boasting about being the only one in town, they had nothing to boast about. Every noise seemed to drift right and through their room.

  Late to check in, Lance offered to go in, Keith shaking his head at the offer. He could totally handle one 2 minute interaction. Said interaction blowing out to 20 minutes, with far too many questions asked. No. He wasn’t there on a get away for Easter. No. He didn’t have kids. No. He didn’t have a wife. Yes. His eyes were an unusual shade of purple. He didn’t know what the old man behind the check in counter got from his interrogation, but he was lucky Keith didn’t snap with how tired he was. He didn’t blame Lance for the numerous stops they’d made, but he did think that maybe they should have split the drive and found somewhere to camp overnight, with less fucking people around.

  Coming waddling out the bathroom, Keith noted Lance had packed his own robe. His stomach on display, with the looped belt sitting just below his breasts. Their room was so “Lance-esque” that his boyfriend blended right in with brown shag pile carpet, khaki bedspread and orange flowered wallpaper. Being Lance, his boyfriend had fixed the dripping shower, instead of simply complaining to management. Keith annoyed his boyfriend didn’t care that the hotel wasn’t great. He was certain he’d heard more than one couple doing the do well into the hours of the morning when normal people should be sleeping. Hell. He should be sleeping. All the scents and sounds, coupled with a boyfriend hogging the blankets had made for a long night.

  Seeing him watching, Lance shot him a smile. Opening his arms, Keith made straight for Lance. The vampire chuckled as he kissed Keith’s hair

“Come on, it’s not all bad”

“It’s not all that good either”

“I know. It’s only for a few days”

“This place is awful”

“It’s not getting a good Yelp review, but it’s not completely horrendous”

This was no place for his pregnant mate. A budget hotel room with a TV smaller than Lance’s laptop, and way too many people

“How do you think this isn’t horrendous?!”

“Because you’re here”

   Lance’s sincere answer made him splutter, Lance chuckling at him as he kissed his hair

“I know it’s not what you expected, but it’s not forever”

“There’s so many people...”

“I know. It’s a lot for your senses. Why don’t you take a shower? We were both too tired last night, and I want to go get something decent to eat. Maybe find you some coffee?”

Coffee sounded good. Showering sounded like too much effort, but after tossing and turning all night, it’d feel good to feel clean of their bedding

“Okay...”

“Don’t take too long though. Your kids are seriously craving pancakes and I might have to stab someone if I don’t get them soon”

Keith gave a weak chuckle, not at all looking forward to the outside world

“We can’t have that. Get dressed and I’ll be out in a bit”

   The shower ran out of hot water halfway through. Keith kicking the wall tiles hard enough that he cracked the tile that took the main impact. Not that he felt bad about in the slightest. When he’d been on the streets, even a place like this would have been heavenly. Now he’d gotten used to being pampered by Lance and the niceness of Platt. He’d been spoiled. He shouldn’t be expecting city niceties in a backwards town like this.

  With a towel barely bigger than a hand towel around his waist, Keith walked back into the bedroom to find Lance had gotten dressed. He’d stumbled to a stop as he stared at his boyfriend. Lance was in a dress. An actual flowy white dress. A wig of long brown hair flowed down past his shoulders. Catching him staring, Lance sighed at him

“Don’t look at me like that”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re confused. Our friends might be okay with me being pregnant, but I don’t want people making assumptions and being rude as fuck”

  They could go fuck themselves sideways as far as Keith was concerned. Lance was Lance. Lance didn’t love wearing dresses and hiding himself... He shouldn’t have to, either

“You dressed like that for me? You didn’t have to...”

“It’s fine, babe”

“But you’re a man...”

“Who’s currently pregnant and just wants his pancakes in peace. Besides, I like to think I look cute”

He did... but it was so freaking weird. Lance was Lance... and now he suddenly had a girlfriend in place of the man he loved

“You always look cute, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I don’t want you to feel you have to hide away”

“I know. Look, I figured it’d be easier for these poor country folks. Or don’t you like it? I mean, I can change, but I’m okay for now... more importantly, you know that’s the bath mat you’ve got around your waist, right?”

  No. Why hang it up if it was meant for the floor?! Keith’s cheeks flamed, scrambling for an excuse he pathetically replied

“It does the job”

Lance could only shake his head at him. Keith feeling that was fair

“I did pack our towels. I thought you’d like something more familiar from home. I just didn’t think to grab them”

Lance meant he hadn’t thought to grab them as he rushed off to vomit. Keith copping both the wet noises and the scent. Neither making him feel all that good about their “holiday”

“I’m going to get dressed. Please tell me you’ve found where we can get coffee?”

“As if I’d make you wait for coffee. There’s a restaurant not far from here”

  Thank god for that. He had no idea how this was all going to work, or when they’d be finding his dad’s grave. Now that they were here, he didn’t know how he felt. Yes, he was glad to be there with Lance. But at the same time, everything outside the confines of their crappy room scared him. Logically no one would recognise him. Not when anyone who’d last seen him had seen him as a little kid, but he still feared it. He feared someone from the past coming up to him to say “Oh my god! Are you Keith? I remember when your father died...”. He didn’t want to be remembered. He didn’t want the awkwardness or pity from some stranger. He didn’t even know if he wanted to stay in town long enough for Curtis and Shiro to join them. He did know he wanted to find the shack he’d called home... but even then, he didn’t know what he’d do when he did. All of it felt too much, but all of it would bring some kind of closure. That was if he listened to Lance... Lance who was annoyingly right more times than not. All he could do was hope that he was strong enough to see this through, and that Lance would remain by his side, no matter how he might react.

[youarejesting]

Femme 33

Recap: returning from your date with Hoseok you invite the boys' next door over for a Christmas lunch. Everyone is in bed and as much as you want to cuddle with any of the boys you need time to think. You have a dream in which you and the boys all have kids. Waking with a small sense of déjà vu. 

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader,

Rating: Adorable

Warnings: Smut, oral receiving, fingering,  voyeurism, exhibitionism, implied biting, singing.

Length: 2k words

Announcement: Sorry it took so long and I hope this isn’t too hard to read. I have been stewing on this for a while now. 

After breakfast, you discussed with the boys about having a Christmas barbecue and they seemed excited at the idea; you made a few calls asking Kwon Jiyong and his family and your boss if they were available, you even reached out to the girls you met at the park a few days back. 

You started making a menu and looked at the barbecue on the balcony smiling. This would work. You planned it all out in your head, how many chairs and plates and everything you would need. 

“What are you doing, yeobo” Jungkook sat on the stool beside you and tried to read your English script. He sounded cute reading the words, and he smiled, “We should go shopping”

“Would you like to go with me?”

“Of course” he smiled, and we put on our shoes and coats before heading out to buy everything for the party. 

He watched as you calculated and crossed off the list; he was impressed with your budgeting skills. How you found each of the boys favorite foods as you weaved through the aisles. “Hey Jungkook can you go race and get me some banana milk.” there were a few items left for the cashier to scan and he nodded running and you grinned paying while he had left. You pushed the shopping trolley out of the way and sat outside the store he arrived and frowned. 

“You left without me, I was going to pay like a real man” he sat handing you one of two banana milk drinks he bought. 

“Jungkook you are a real man, this is my party and my budget and I want to use my money for this, you just spend your money on things that make you happy or if you really want to buy something for me buy things that can make us both happy together, it’s more fun when we are both happy, but this is a selfish indulgence and a present for my friends and family, and I would feel bad using you boys’ money for this”

You took a taxi home, Jungkook declared he would carry all the bags of groceries. You tried to argue, but he smiled and told you this is what he does at the gym, anyway. The boys were all excited when you returned and helped put things away you told them not to touch the food in the corner cupboard or the left of the freezer as it was for the party. 

“Hamburgers,” Taehyung shrieked “I love hamburgers”

Lunchtime rolled around, and some of the boys had afternoon shifts and Hoseok left for a shift at the clinic. Jungkook sat beside you discussing your meal plans and he hummed in delight. 

“That sounds delicious” he beamed and your heart skipped a beat watching his face light up at each food. “Wait, you can make this?”

“Honey, I can cook very well, it’s just that I have never made Korean food before, maybe I should learn huh,” You smiled “want to help me?”

“I don’t know how to cook,” he said “Jin and Jimin can though, want me to go find them”

“They are at work, let's get the camera and make a cooking video” you started cleaning the already clean kitchen and making it look nice for the video and you got dressed in a cute dress and tried to tie your hair. 

“Come here yeobo,” Jungkook smiled, patting the bar stool. He sat you down to braid your hair quickly, “there is a lady I work with whom only has one arm, nicest person you will ever meet besides you of course. We all help her with her hair in the mornings, just whoever is free, I have gotten really good at it. Haven’t I?” 

“Wow, you really have?” You touched the braid, and he kissed your neck, his chest pressed to your back as his hands ran down the outside of your thighs over your knees and travelled up the inside. 

Audibly gasping as he nipped against your skin, you rolled your head back onto his shoulder. Down the hall, a door opened and a tense Namjoon stepped out and froze seeing what was happening. 

Namjoon watched as Jungkook grabbed the inside of your thighs and pulled them open. He spun you on the barstool and stepped between your legs resuming to kiss your neck and hand on your ass squeezing. 

Namjoon perched on the back of the couch watching you both, Jungkook was so turned on it was like he was at war with his pants which side would break first. The tight jeans seriously looked like they were on the brink but by the sounds of his shallow breaths, he wasn’t far behind either. 

“Honey, Slow down or everything will be over before it starts” you grabbed his hands and tried to push him away but he whined grabbing the bench behind you for dear life and continuing his ministrations on your neck. Throwing a help me look at Namjoon, he nodded and gently wrapped his arms around Jungkook’s waist and lifted him carrying him away and his arms went limp to his sides and he let out a sorrowful sound his dark eyes zeroing in on the mess he made on your neck.

You caught your reflection in your phone; you had a hickey, Jungkook was struggling against Namjoon. “I want to make you feel good, please” Namjoon groaned as Jungkook pressed his ass against him to try to break the grip around his torso. Though Jungkook was probably stronger, Namjoon would never let him win, especially since you asked him to restrain him.

The three of you went to Jungkook’s bedroom, you followed behind Namjoon slipping of your underwear. Catching Taehyung’s eyes from the doorway of his room, you flicked them to him before stepping into the Maknaes quarters. 

Namjoon sat on the desk chair, palming himself through his pants. Jungkook was quick to lift and throw you onto the bed. He liked how you looked nestled in his blankets, hands shyly covering your face. He crawled up the bed, the muscles in his arms tensing under the skin as he moved. He removed his shirt and jeans, leaving him in his boxer briefs.

Jungkook lifted your dress and was surprised to find you without underwear. His eyes met yours and you peeked at him from between your fingers. Namjoon watched as he watched the maknaes eyes gazing down excitedly and flicker up to meet his eyes. Namjoon’s dick twitch and the images of the maknae between his legs flooded his mind. Just as their eyes connected they moved in a flash to meet yours.

“Yeobo, I heard Yoongi Hyung talking about how you taste and I want to… um… try” his ears were pink but he didn’t shy away he looked you in the eyes with burning determination behind his dark orbs. “A real man makes sure his lady feels good before he thinks about himself”

“I understand. Do what you want JayKay as long as it feels right to you, you don’t have to do things just because others do” he grinned and lowered himself to your core. He was anything but hesitant in that moment when your moans filled the room. That was all the encouragement he needed. He slipped his arms under your knees and around to grip your thighs. 

“You really taste good,” his bright grin beaming up at you and Namjoon moaned hard from the side of the room. Your breathing is short, Jungkook finds a rhythm, the feeling so powerful you close your eyes in pleasure. You are almost there the pulse running heavy through your heat back arching off the bed mouth slack in pleasure. He untangles one arm and reached up, pressing two fingers against your lips, you take them into your mouth. Teasing the digits with your tongue he groaned removing them and inserting them slowly into you.

He was being sensual with you; it wasn’t surprisingly a come and go situation (pun intended). He pulled away watching his finger slide in and out curling them and he started singing to you quietly. You had to concentrate to understand what the hell could be so important to sing about while you were mere seconds away from pleasure.

Follow the sound of the pipe, follow this song It’s a bit dangerous but I’m so sweet I’m here to save you, I’m here to ruin you You called me, see? I’m so sweet Follow the sound of the pipe I’m takin’ over you

He moved up the bed as he sang the last words so sweet yet such a deadly statement. He removed his fingers and asked you if you still wanted to continue. You rolled your eyes sarcastically “Of course not I want to lay here half-finished actually let's make ramen. Of course I want to continue”

“I don’t think that’s how you ask nicely” He grinned, ghosting his lips over yours but never letting them touch for more than a few milliseconds. Your head rolled to the side looking at Namjoon who looked like he was trying to hold back from coming, he worked himself up rather quickly. Breathing in time with his languid hand movements.

“Please, Jungkook,” you said starting to squirm for some friction. He settles between your legs and you wrap them around him making him take a shaky breath. He is nervous. He guides himself with his hand and you touch his cheek and remind him to breathe. He is savouring the moment as he pulls in a sharp pant.

“Holy hell you feel amazing,” He says, it doesn’t take long for the coil to tighten inside you once more. He moans absorbed in pleasure and his fingers clutch the sheets as his hips rocking against you and you meet every thrust moaning while he true to his word possesses you completely. The feeling in your core snaps and the warmth spread up and down your body before convulsing in time with your pulse.

Jungkook’s hips stutter and he was breathless as he was lost in the waves of his own pleasure. Namjoon with his eyes locked on the two of you and observing your undoing spills himself in his hand with strong drives of his hip. The sound of heavy breathing from the three of you is such a beautiful symphony alluding to your previous escapades.

Jungkook, Namjoon and even Taehyung who from across the hall had quite the show, all kept you busy for another hour. Once you were all thoroughly sated, Jungkook smacked your bare ass cheek and grinned “Come on love, we have to film”

Taehyung was playing with your braids your neck debased from the two youngest in the room. “You think I can film with my neck looking like this” you groaned walking to the bathroom naked”

Yoongi who was half asleep. He saw you cross the room stark naked while waiting for his coffee to boil. His eyes widened, and he looked at his coffee cup and at his watch before looking back at you. You took a detour to kiss him gently before heading on to the bathroom. The sight was a monstrosity. “Jeon bunny maknae kookie Jk Justin Seagull Jungkook, Kim Jack 4D Alien TaeTae V Taehyung you boys come here and explain what the hell you did to my neck”

The two youngest ran in giggling, their heads turned in towards each other, “Yes yeobo?” Jungkook said the two of them were trying to hold their cheeky grins. You wanted to scold them but you laughed and Taehyung wrapped you in his arms and nuzzled his nose gently against your neck.

“I think they are pretty, I enjoy decorating you,” he smiled

Femme Media 33

Next Chapter

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[digitalmarketingagencysworld]

CHOOSING A GOOD WEDDING PLANNER

Once the rings are exchanged, the dates set and therefore the elation that engulfed you upon finally being told that the marriage would happen on so then date began to ebb, ever slowly, and your feet retraced their painful journey back to the bottom , that's when the magnitude of the task of arranging and organizing a marriage finally struck you. Of course, there's no denying the very fact that you simply have already got your wedding completely organized and planned to a T in your head, but you're also aware that such an onerous undertaking is, well and truly, beyond your scope and time. Executing a marriage , one that has been imagined in your head to the littlest detail possible, is, because the cliché goes, easier said than done. From drawing up a budget to picking the perfect venue for what is going to remain the foremost important day in your life, knowledgeable wedding planner clears the road to make sure that the marriage pops with none hassles and worries. it's their ability to plan out of the box solutions and to think on their feet that divides good wedding planners from the simplest . Listed below are a number of the parameters which could aid you in choosing the best:

 The Whole deal or Half Way in?

Depending on the scope and scale of the marriage , you'll choose either a full-time wedding planner or each day coordinator. Before going into the apparent advantages of hiring the previous , lets us first re-evaluate the roles and responsibilities of each day coordinator. they are available into the image a month approximately before the marriage and are deals mostly with day to day arrangements of the marriage like seating arrangements, lighting ad floral arrangements, etc. However, with a fanatical wedding planner, it's virtually an act of delivering the reins of your wedding and sitting back to enjoy the ride. knowledgeable wedding planning organization, with teams exclusively dedicated to conceptualization, photography, budget planning and execution plan and actualize a marriage literally from scratch. From choosing a marriage venue to packaging those countless memories in albums specifically designed for you, knowledgeable wedding planner takes care of everything.

Budgets! Budgets! Budgets!

Contrary to popular, and if one may add highly inaccurate, urban lore, a marriage planner doesn't cost a limb and an arm. All one must find a marriage planner who fits into your budget may be a wee little bit of patience. While one school of thought, which many incorrectly call 'common sense' might claim that hiring knowledgeable wedding planner might stretch your finances and leave you dry, the opposing notion is probably going to contest that the thrill of a stress-free wedding are priceless. Moreover, there's tons of cash which will be saved by entrusting all the responsibilities to one organisation which automatically precludes the necessity to haggle with an entire host of characters and dealers.

Compatibility Mode on?

A wedding being an intimate and a highly personal function, the importance of sharing an honest rapport together with your wedding planner can't be stressed enough. While it's indeed gratifying to possess the responsibility of a marriage began your shoulders, it's equally important to not be haunted by a way of regret within the aftermath. Thus, it becomes invaluable for you begin off on the proper page together with your wedding planner. What does compatibility together with your wedding planner exactly mean? In your interactions, you would like to feel that the planner is hospitable accepting your ideas and shall willingly execute an equivalent without compromising on your dreams and visions. Did he or she appear as excited as you probably did about the upcoming wedding? When the marriage planner differed together with your ideas and substituted those with a number of his or her own, what were your thoughts and reflections on the same? How open did you discover your prospective wedding planner appear to your ideas and thoughts on the wedding? Once you've got cross referenced of these categories and find the planner satisfactory, dispel all doubts and hire the planner, wasting not a second on the topic .

Tracking eleventh hour challenges

No matter how adept and efficient a marriage planner might appear, it's practically impossible for him or her to ensure that there'll be no eleventh hour glitches which may spell disaster. However, one can carefully assess whether or not a planner has the constitution to affect problems that crop up without a moment's notice. Faulty lighting arrangements, caterer struck in traffic, is that the band late? knowledgeable wedding planner must be able handle such eleventh hour hitches must be addressed with poise and with the smallest amount little bit of trouble and put everything back on target . about the absence or stubbornness of the bride and groom, the marriage planner must be equipped to handle.

That Eye for Detail and Strength of organization

Caught up within the swirl and confusion of the marriage , there's always a little detail that you simply may have missed, one which come and switch the whole event into a fiasco. Attention to minutiae is perhaps the foremost important reason for you hire a marriage planner. While hiring a marriage planner, confirm he or she is observant to a fault. it's a planner's ability to scour through piles of knowledge and yet miss nothing that indicates hi caliber. Ensuring that each one wedding arrangements are in accordance together with your customs and traditions, ensuring that there's not one thread out of place with the floral arrangements, or the lights, these are the hallmarks of a real professional. A more enterprising wedding planner also goes that extra yard or two in making all guests feel reception and relaxed by arising with ingenious welcome gifts like engraved chocolates, among other things.

Having to constantly check abreast of the progress of your wedding preparations and having to make sure that each one the arrangements are in situ , once you have already handed over the responsibility to a marriage planner defeats the aim of hiring one. An organised wedding planner is one who doesn't bother you with petty details and takes care to stay you within the loop about the preparations. within the least, confirm that your wedding planner features a calendar with all the important dates marked off in order that everything happens during a time-bound manner.

 Third Party Management

A wedding often turns into a nightmare due to your having to return into contact with many intractable 'Third Parties'. Haggling and bargaining with these third parties, who include photographers, light man, flower decorators, etc., could leave you with an enduring headache. an honest wedding planner is one who completely removes the prospect of you having to return into contact with the so-called third parties. All you would like to try to to is to convey your thoughts on the topic and in accordance together with your wishes, the marriage planner sets about hiring the right cook, photographer, etc., unto whom he relays what you've got confided in him and gets it done.

If you are searching for Best wedding planner in Jodhpur? Heart desires wedding plan a best wedding, in Jodhpur they provides best services.

[vvirgils]

Chronicles of Straith #2- The Witch’s Dragon:Chapter 2

Chronicles of Straith #1- Fate’s Door ///Chapter 1/Chapter 3//Masterpost

Roman mussed their hair in the mirror. It was short, boy-short. They hadn’t gotten a choice in the matter after the coronation, the hairdresser whispering a brief apology before chopping away. It didn’t look right, and Roman itched to grow it out, but they knew that wasn’t an option.

A king, after all, had to look presentable. Long hair wasn’t presentable, no matter how much Roman happened to like it. Of course, nonbinary gender presentations weren’t presentable either, much to Roman’s chagrin. But right now, it didn’t particularly matter, because Roman was going to have lunch with the Sorcerer’s Apprentice.

Or better defined as Roman’s friend—their first friend—and their closest confidante since Patton and Logan were busy with other things.Namely, running a bookstore, democracy, and each other. Roman trusted Virgil more than anyone else, in the castle and beyond. She had been with them since before everything. The grand adventure. The quest lost to the ages that saved the kingdom and returned magic to the nation. Virgil had introduced them to the wild world of adventuring-the first outside of Roman’s own mind. And, truth be told, there were feelings simmering beneath the surface of their conversations that Roman wasn’t equipped to handle.

Lunchtime every week was usually the only time they got to talk about anything other than business. Along with Rafaela, Virgil was running the shiny new Sorcery Department of Straith, and her path frequently crossed with Roman’s, although usually just for minutes at a time. She always needed signatures, a word of input, or persuasion, but their lunches together were the only time Virgil wanted Roman’s company.

For old time’s sake—it reminded them both of the stolen hours spent planning—they met in the library. They weren’t supposed to eat there, but being the king had its perks. Roman had a (trusted) cook bring them something small, and got to be away from responsibilities with Virgil. It was a calm oasis amidst the chaos of Roman’s life. Sixteen-year-olds were not well equipped to run a country, but Roman was doing their best.

Descending the stairs to the library doors, Roman unhooked the small gold crown from their hair and stuck it in their pocket. No one recognized them without a crown, the young ruler was finding, and they used that to their advantage when hiding from anyone that would want the king. Which turned out to be a great many people.

Roman flung open the doors to the library, making the pages of the librarian’s book flutter. He barely gave Roman a glance as they passed, probably not caring. Either he was too caught up in his book, or the librarian was accustomed enough to Roman practically living here to raise an eyebrow.

Virgil waited at their usual table, the one next to the window where sunlight always lit whatever you were reading. She had started on the sandwiches already, and a smile broke out on her face when Roman walked in. Her dragon, Laurus, snoozed on the nearby windowsill, sending up puffs of smoke with every exhale.

Sliding into the wooden seat next to her, Roman reached for the other sandwich. “Starting already?”

“You can’t expect everyone to wait for you, your majesty,” Virgil said, taking another bite out of her sandwich. Roman laughed.

“Didn’t expect you to, just thought it was unusual. You must be busy.” They unwrapped the sandwich, trying to distract themself with something other than Virgil’s face.

“I could say the same about you, but I’m more focused on this sandwich right now. What’s new in the life of a king?” She wanted to catch up with Roman; it had been too long since they’d last talked, and a hundred things must have happened since then.

“Just a lot of things, and they keep piling up. Kind of makes you miss running for your life, but at least it’s predictable. Like, if I tell someone this, my chief advisor will become furious, the cabinet will act scandalized, and everyone who doesn’t live inside this ancient pile of rocks will cheer. My dad massively sucked, but at least he prepared me, you know.” Roman started eating their sandwich, trying to repress the spark of bitterness about their dad. It was a sore subject, but being around Virgil always managed to loosen their tongue.

“Never thought I’d hear you say something positive about Epos,” Virgil said, quirking an eyebrow, “but I can’t imagine how hard being king would be without someone helping. I’ve got Rafaela, but you’ve got…” She wasn’t sure how to phrase it correctly.

“A lot of people who don’t trust me and treat me like I’m five? Yeah, but I’ve got you, Pat, and Logan. It balances out.” Roman tried to shrug it off, but the set of their features suggested that their predicament was troubling.

“Considering I’m actually losing sleep over the responsibility of like, restoring the entire reputation of sorcery, I have no idea how you’re alive,” Virgil said, reaching for one of the cups of water on the table. If there was one thing she could count on, it was self-doubt.

“Your guess is as good as mine. I’m not sure how I’m surviving it all, quite frankly,” Roman said, shoulders slumping inwards. “I mean, I thought that after what, four months of this? I’d be used to the constant demands, the pressure, the crown. But every time I have to give a speech it feels like walking into the room with Epos to lie my way into the throne.”

Virgil sighed. “Remember when we thought I was going to break Rafaela out of prison with just my own powers? Those were simpler times.” She finished off her sandwich, picking a stray piece of lettuce off the paper to eat. “Still can’t believe you didn’t tell us until after we thought the whole world was going to end.”

“For the thousandth time, I’m sorry. But hey, the stress of being king is kind of karmic,” Roman reasoned, taking another bite of their sandwich. “This food is really good.”

“I know, it is. You should seriously give him a raise,” Virgil said, sadly looking at where her now-eaten sandwich once was.

“As a matter of fact, my financial advisor will give me a twenty-minute lecture on budgeting if I give anyone else a raise. I am limited to two raises a month, which I already spent on the calligrapher and the candle-lighter. So I’ll keep it in mind for next month,” Roman said, taking a long gulp of water. “Do you know how Logan and Patton’s plan is coming along?”

“They’re working on it, that’s for sure, but I really don’t know,” Virgil said, shrugging. “I haven’t seen them as much as I’d like to. Things with Rafaela have been…busy.”

“I feel you on that, honestly,” Roman said, “Obviously, I’m the king and getting the best of everything, which I’m reminded of every time I visit—” They were cut off by something loud. A rumble, warning.

Something shook the ground underneath them. Laurus jumped down from the sill. A rush of panic flooded over Roman, and they ran to the window.

 Next to them, Virgil whispered, “Is that an explosion?” Her dragon cowered behind her, tail brushing her ankles.

A gray cloud hovered over a patch of the forest, with everything beneath it a muddy gray, like someone had coated the trees with concrete. The gray was stark against the snow-covered trees surrounding the cloud.Roman squinted at it. “What in the name of-”

Another rumble, and more liquid spewed from the same spot. The window frame shook under Virgil’s white-knuckled hands. Laurus’s tail clenched around her leg. She looked at Roman. “That’s going to leave a mark.”

They could hear people yelling outside, mostly in astonishment at what just happened. Nothing more happened, the cloud rooted in place above the desaturated trees. “Do—what do we do about it?” Roman asked, heart pounding in their chest. This was not supposed to happen.

“Let me contact Rafaela,” Virgil said, rolling back her sleeve to shoot a jet of magic at her purple bracelet. It buzzed back at her, and her brow furrowed. “Not available, and—”She tapped the bracelet. “—won’t let me track her.”

“Great. This is great. Just perfect. Couldn’t have asked for anything better,” Roman said, knowing that their break from reality with Virgil would have to end. “I should probably go, and talk with people. Let me know if you find Rafaela.” They had a sinking feeling that the explosion and Rafaela’s disappearance wasn’t a coincidence.

“I will, don’t worry,” Virgil said. Roman left the room, looking back at the mess they’d made at lunch. While they hated leaving things with Virgil like this, Roman only had so long before everyone started looking for them. They’d much rather that the entire castle staff didn’t find the king’s hiding place.

Roman slipped the small crown back into their hair and ran to the office, where there would no doubt already be people waiting for them. A teenager was definitely not the best choice for king, because Roman had no idea what to do about whatever was in the forest.

[reallyginnyf]

quaranmemes for quarantines

I was tagged by @sparksearcher, thanks, this is a good one. It’s also a long one, so apologies to mobile users and for the rest of you: 

when was the last time you left your home?

We took a drive yesterday but only got out of the car once, at a local farm stand. The pig smell was ripe and there were eight other people milling around so we got back in the car immediately. My last time inside a place of business was on the 13th, a stock-up trip to Aldi. Everyone was wearing a mask and they were controlling the number of shoppers with a “one in, one out” method. I don’t anticipate another grocery run for a few weeks.

what was the last thing you bought?

It was an onlline order of a 10-pack of washable cotton masks just this morning. I’ve crocheted some nifty washable masks using dishcloth yarn but without filter material they’re useless because of the holes in the work. But I think a combo of a crocheted mask with a filter and a cotton cloth mask would be effective. 

is quarantine driving you insane or are you finally relaxed?

My brain is a jerk. I’m an introvert plus I’m agoraphobic so I’ve never minded staying home. It’s cozy and safe. Now that I can’t go anywhere, I literally want to go ALL OF THE PLACES ALL OF THE TIME. I’ve been having a tough time emotionally because everything feels dangerous now and I worry constantly...about my older high-risk husband, about my elderly parents, about my teenager’s future and on and on. 

who are you spending quarantine with?

Russ, when he’s not scheduled to work, and Zack.

do you have pets to keep you company?

I don’t and honestly? I’m happy to not have a pet right now. I’m sure they provide welcome comfort but It’s stressful enough trying to make sure there are enough food and supplies in the house for the three of us plus making sure my elderly parents are provided for without having to plan bulk-buying trips for pet food and other things. I get to see Buddy and Bonnie next door and Paco and Lucky across the street plus it’s baby squirrel and baby bunny season in the garden.

what are your current responsibilities?

Planning meals, planning shopping trips, bulk cooking so we have freezer meals available just in case, keeping an eye on Zack with his online classes since he’s not feeling particularly motivated atm, lots of laundry when Russ is working, cleaning and sanitizing the house, planting and maintaining our flower, vegetable and herb gardens, keeping on top of the budget, making sure bills are paid, trying to keep in touch with friends and family and trying to keep my sanity. I am succeeding at only a few of these.

do you have a room to yourself?

Guest bedroom sometimes when Zack isn’t using it for online class. I’ve mainly been escaping to our unfinished basement because I love it down there. We have bookcases and chairs and lamps and an area rug and a super old TV/VHS combo and it’s always cool and quiet. I do my workouts or listen to podcasts and crochet or put in some ridiculous old movie from our VHS collection and just escape for a while.

are you exercising?

Some? Whatever viral thing I had in March caused a major POTS flare so my heart rate dictates how much I can exercise each day. Right now my O2 sat is hanging in around 94% and my resting pulse rate is in the 90s, sometimes the low 100s, so I have to pace myself. Just walking around can spike it to the 130s. I can’t do my favorite 90s workout MTV: THE GRIND, sad face. So it’s yoga or recumbent bike for now. 

town, country, city?

We’re a city, population around 14,000, but in reality we’re a suburb of St. Louis.

how’s your toilet paper supply?

We’re wealthy. I started getting nervous about coronavirus back in the middle of February so every time I went shopping I picked up another pack. I didn’t hoard, just made sure I bought extra so we have about 45 rolls in the house right now.

what’s the worst thing that you had to cancel?

Two in-state college visits and one out-of-state visit. We’ve been planning and saving money for almost a year and had to cancel them all. Zack isn’t sure he wants to reschedule because he doesn’t know what the college experience will realistically look like for him in 2021. Which is logical but I’m still sad.

what’s the best thing you’ve had to cancel?

Dental work. It’s necessary but not emergent so it’s not being rescheduled until later this summer.

who do you miss the most?

This will sound perverse, because they’re the two people who drive me the absolute bat-shit craziest, but I miss visiting my parents. They won’t call me, refuse to let me shop for them, do not come to the door when I drop off whatever supplies I’m assuming they need and wouldn’t think of driving by our house even though we live less than a mile apart.  I’ve not actually seen them since the end of February so I have no idea how they’re doing. They could be dead or hospitalized for all I know.

do you have any new hobbies?

Hell, no. I’m neglecting the few hobbies I have, I’m not thinking of new ones. What would I do? Learn a language, learn to play an instrument? I’m lucky if I remember to take a shower every day.

what are you watching the most?

I can’t watch scripted TV or movies right now because I sit there and think “I'm watching celebrities who make more money than I will ever have in my life and they’re safe from the pandemic so FUCK THEM” which kind of gets in the way of my enjoyment. I signed up for Ovid TV because I love documentaries but I can’t watch those, either. The pandemic is an emotional overlay of everything I try to consume right now, visual or written, so I’ve been going back and re-watching everything on LGR’s YouTube channel, especially the Sims Let’s Play videos. His Duke Nukem voice and the stupid shit he does like creating Fartwhistle Dingleprop and his Hat of Shame or putting the Sims’ toilet in the middle of a hedge maze hits the right spot for me now. 

are you still going to work?

I’ve been out of work a long time. Russ is still working since he works for a public utility, at an evil, evil coal-burning power plant but hey, the electricity has to be generated somehow. The other options are nuclear, but Callaway scares the shit out of most Missourians and no one wants to pay the increased rates for green energy, so here we are. His team has been divided in three and they rotate three 12-hour days in a row and then seven or eight days off in between. He’s getting his full pay and I am enormously grateful. 

what are you out of?

We’re honestly okay on everything. I started stocking up in mid-February, bought a chest freezer and filled it up and made sure we had plenty of everyone’s shelf-stable favorites. Plus I stocked up on paper towels and disinfecting wipes and hand soap and toiletries. I’m starting to get a little low on eggs but a local restaurant is selling grocery items during the shutdown so I can get a flat when I need them.

have you made any changes to your hair during quarantine?

Nope. I’m allergic to hair dye and my stylist hasn’t found a formulation yet that works for me and I’m not messing with henna. So it’s the same old gray + mousy brown. It’s lovely. I’m letting my hair grow because my emotional state is precarious enough. If I do a hack job with kitchen scissors and cringe every time I look in the mirror, that’s not helping. It’s about an inch past my shoulders now and my fringe is long enough to be swept to the side but I have to hold it in place with barrettes because it’s heavy so I look like a sad old scene girl.

tagging: @this-lioness, @englishsongbird, @veradune, @maresdotes, @impreciselanguage, @stackcats, @resting-meme-face, @buddhish and seriously, all my mutuals because I want to read your answers but I’m having trouble remembering usernames or I remember them but I can’t spell the damn things and I just don’t have the energy to look anyone up, please forgive me. 

[cienie-isengardu]

☆, ■, ♡, ♒, ☼, ൠ (maybe... a fashion/style-related headcanon; no Jedi robes allowed for this question?), and ◉ (Do you think you have anything common with this character, personally? If so, what are they?) for Anakin Skywalker (I love your detail-orientated and insightful meta posts on him; that's why your writing is so good and I wanted to meet you).

Awww, thank you so much! I’m sorry it took me so long to answer, but somehow headcanons kinda get longer than I was planning :D

☆ - happy headcanon

The first time Anakin took part in podraces, he almost died. It was horrible moment of life for mother, he knew, but flying made him so damn happy, he couldn't help himself and treasure the memory. The feeling when he was flying with high speed - too fast to get caught by master's anger, too fast to think about past failures and pain, too fast to look back - was like salvation.

Of course, he crashed that day. He was scolded by Watto and laughed at by Sebulba. But it was the first time he tasted freedom and he knew since that day freedom was reachable even for a slave.

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

Anakin was growing up in poverty, so he was used to lack of luxury.

The little  living space he and Shmi had for themselves was well groomed - everything had its own place to lay, everything was treated well.  Anakin from younger years was taught that the better he takes care for his own possessions, the longer items may have been used. What could be repaired, should be repaired. What could be re-used as something different, should be re-used. What was no longer needed should be given away to other people in need.  Money for home was spent  sparingly and wisely. Though Skywalker family never had too many money, Shmi sometimes allowed herself to buy something nice to home to make the old, yellowish-gray building a bit more colorful and happy place to live. From her Anakin learnt that he does not need a luxury items to make living quarters feels like true home.

Jedi did not care for luxury either, so he had never feel jealous nor need to have better equipped home. Shmi taught him to take care of his things, so his living quarters were always tidy, clothes clean and folded and put in closet. The only one exception was electrical parts, spare parts for machines and all kinds of tools that Anakin used everyday, as a slave and Jedi. The little working space he had for himself was full of random things, quite often found outside and brought home for repair. Even though for some (mainly the Jedi) it looked like cramped - not proper for a padawan, even less for Knight - space, everything was still put in right place in this chaos.

When he was a slave or Jedi, living quarters were mainly use for work and sleep and sometimes to hide from pain, judging look of masters and their scorn.

Living with Padme was pretty easy. Her homes, on Coruscant and Naboo alike, were spacious, colorful, with nice view on beautiful sky or lake. Inside everything was tidy and elegant looking but it took months to get used to these places. Padme's apartment lacked personal items, making the beautiful interior space feeling a bit cold. Except for her bedroom, where she kept holopictures of her family and friends, her beloved holobooks, drawings made by nieces, all the trinkets; the  most precious and dearest items that had nothing to do with expensive jewelry. That spoke about her too much that she didn't want - couldn't - put those on display just like that.

During war when Padme wasn't on Coruscant, Anakin would not sleep in their bedroom. It was too empty, too lonely to lay down there. He wouldn't go to Temple either, if he had a choice in the matter. Hangar where he spent hours repairing and tweaking this or that in his and his men starfighters  was like second home to him. The same was with headquarters of 501st Legion in which Anakin and Rex spent hours writing reports and doing all paperworks between missions. If there was no need to be at Temple, Anakin remain there all night. The couch that he may or may not steal borrow from the corridor was comfortable enough to sleep on (although quite often it was occupied by sleeping Rex who didn't feel like leaving his general when Skywalker still worked even though the man told him to get some rest), and he may or may not bring electric kettle or any other poor machinery that was thrown away that needed just a bit repairing to work again. Oh, and okay, maybe he did ask Padme to buy some nice tea and coffee so 501st could have their own stash instead of rely of canteen assignment. Cookies was just a gift from lovely wife though.

 ♡ - romantic headcanon

Anakin is not really good with words. Basic language was not his native tongue (not even a second, that was Huttese) and frankly, it was not his fault the language was so, well, basic and lacked words to express his feelings. Okay, maybe he wasn't the best person to communicate his feelings in the first place, but the lack of correct words did not help. With is why he sometimes sound so awkward around Padme. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, but she would not understand the proper words of his native language.

With is why Anakin express his feeling though little gifts. Not the one bought by money (he did not have money, after all), but hand made by him. Japor snippet, when he was a kid was not romantic gift, really, but it carried all the feelings and hopes he wished to tell Padme, but lacked proper words. He give to his wife the cut down padawan's braid when he was knighted; a special memento of his ambitions and dreams and adulthood, so she knew he was a man, loyal and dedicated not only to Jedi, but to her especially. As knight should be to his queen. He wrote letters to Padme between one battle and another, so she knew he was alive and in love with her all the time. He would cook something tasty when they were together for a night or two, or bring  some little pretty or unique things that made him think of her while found on mission.

Padme may not understand words he says in his native language, but she understand meaning of the gifts. Anakin cares for her, loves her, thinks of her all the time, in peace and war.

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

Between Ob-Wan, Anakin and Padme, Skywalker is the only one that actually should be allowed into kitchen without fear of making mess and burning something. He may not be the best of the best cooks ever (there was little time for Shmi to taught him and Jedi do not teach padawans to cook) but he is pretty good on his own. When he was a boy, he liked those peaceful moments when he could help mother with dinner. They could talk about events of the days, share secrets, plan home budget for another week. As a padawan, he felt weird to not be allowed into kitchen, to rely on droids and kitchen staff to have food. He missed mother very much every time he eat some tasty and rich food; somehow even so good food did not taste that well if he could not share it with Shmi. Now, after her death, cooking by himself feel weird. He likes though the moments when he and Padme cook together, even if Padme just cuts and peels the needed vegetables or prepares other ingredients.

Sometimes, when there is mission for small team and there is time and no danger, Anakin is teaching Ahsoka some basic cooking skills as well. Of course, all padawans are taught how to survive on their own in wilderness, but that is not the same as home cooking. Cooking in field kitchen is not the same as making dinner for Padme either, but he does not mind to cook for always hungry Ahsoka and bunch of curious clone troopers who loves free food that actually has a taste.

Anakin and his men hunt for food as much as it is possible, to not rely all the time on supplies - one never know when they will be under attack again and supplies then will need last for days, it is not wise to eat them if there are other food sources available.

On Tatooine only rich people could be truly picky eater. Anakin grew up in poverty, thus learned to eat anything that will keep him alive. Every food, no matter how awful tasting was something to be thankful for.  On missions, he may or may not eat bugs sometimes just to unnerve his master though.

☼ - appearance headcanon

Anakin does not pay much attention to his appearance. Like, he is always making sure he is clean,  clothes washed and fresh and no holes, but he does not care otherwise how he looks. Unless he is put under high pressure that makes him very well aware he is gonna be judged by everything and the smallest detail slightly less than perfect may meet with disapproval. Which is pretty much how he feels all the time when he must meet with Jedi Council. Until the war, at least, because on frontlines everyone look messy. Even members of Jedi Council.

Shmi taught him to take care of his things and poverty taught him to respect what he little own  which is why Anakin does not drop his Jedi coat on every occasion like his master does all the time. During war, Obi-Wan needed to ask time after time for replacement for his lost (or ruined )Jedi robes. Anakin prefers to mend and darn his own clothes (and Ahsoka, because no padawan of his is gonna fight in clothes full of holes, thank you very much). He likes to repair things, and even mending holes feels calming. Sometimes, during stress, he is literally mending and darning every clothes he get his hands on. His, Obi-Wan's, Ahsoka's, sometimes even Rex's kama.

Anakin has a lot scars. The one across eye is well known and visible but rest  is hidden under heavy Jedi robes. He is not really ashamed by them but he hates when people keep asking about his scars. Because sometimes it is really hard to explain how he got some of them. Jedi do not understand scars from beating by Gardulla's stewards because he did not lower his head quick enough, from drunk scum who threw at him empty bottle, from crashing during podraces. It easier to keep scars hiden; he does not stand out too much from other padawans then.

He has scars that reminds him of childhood in slavery, some from various missions with Obi-Wan, when they together travelled through the galaxy. Some were fresh and new, from brutal fight on many battlefronts. Padme always looks so shocked, so terrified by them he almost feels guilty for showing new scar to her. Almost, because she always kiss him gently, the soft touch of her fingers gliding on the marred skin does not carry any fear, only compassion, only love.

Anakin has one tattoo, in the place where the bomb was once placed inside him. Jedi took it out, freed him from the fear of violent death. But time passed, but he still did not feel free. He needed more noticeable evidence, something much much solid than promises. The tattoo is not big and simply, just Tatooine symbol understood by few people, mainly by slaves. A symbol he risked his life and won his freedom. The tattoo is rarely seen by anyone, but it does not matter. It's not something to look pretty or tough, just statement for Anakin's own peace of mind.

Also, he would never ever grow a beard. He is the type of clean shaving and beside he would not want to look like Obi-Wan. Just no.

ൠ - random headcanon: a fashion/style-related headcanon; no Jedi robes allowed for this question?

Anakin, if he had a chance to pick up clothes for himself, would wear something between military-like and sports motorcyclist style. Army boots, cargo pants and loose shirt, maybe leather jacket or long wool coat, in case of cold. Anything practical yet simple. And in dark (brown and black) colors.

Frankly, the clothes he wore on Naboo in Attack of Clones are what I think he would wear on normal day.

In case of AU modern times, I picture Anakin's fashion sense as a mix of motorbike, military and rock/metalman fashion. Oh, and if he wear dog tags, I'm sure he would keep wedding ring there. And most likely just say the ring is special gift of closest friend if his marriage with Padme was still keep in secret.

◉ - Any other question of your choosing: (Do you think you have anything common with this character, personally? If so, what are they?

Oh, I think I have many things in common with Anakin. The feeling that people are more important than institutions or abstract meaning, valuing friendship above everything else and the strong sense of loyalty to those I'm close with. Oh, and most likely not dealing well with too many emotions albeit Anakin's had much more rough life than me, and a lot trauma to blame on. Me? I'm just asocial person who does not like feelings.

[missymwac]

Call of Jury Duty

“Am I in the right place?”

That was the question I asked a very stressed out security person as I reported for jury duty early this morning. Yes, the dreaded “Day of Duty” had arrived and I was not looking forward to it. I was trying my best to remain upbeat and positive about the whole thing, citing my “civic duty” and all, even trying to harness my inner Stanley Hudson from The Office:

But truthfully, I wasn’t feeling it. As I made my way downtown, I was unsure of everything, especially where to park. Turns out, they have many signs for jurors to follow-and they all lead to a parking garage. I don’t like parking garages. I have nothing against them-they serve a purpose. It’s just, well, I suck at parking. The only thing worse than a parking garage to me is parallel parking. If someone said, “Listen, woman, you either parallel park this Jeep Wrangler or live in exile, wandering the woods in a pair of leggings with little cameras printed on them and eating kale for every meal,” then I would have no other choice than to wave goodbye to the regular world and shove my bloated farty stomach into a pair of customized leggings made in China.

Now, this is my first jury summons, so I had no idea what to expect. I knew that I had to be there at 8:30. I knew that unless I had planned ahead and received special permission (which I hadn’t) I was not allowed to bring in my phone. I knew that the attorneys for the plaintiff and the defendant would ask us questions, but that was about it. What I didn’t know was, where, exactly, I was to report. See, in our town there are three courthouses and they are all clustered together on a corner. And yes, I did have a map, but following directions on a map falls right under “Parking Garage” on the List of Things I Don’t Do Well.

I was running a bit behind schedule (see parking garage above) so when I was informed that no, I was not in the right place, I started to frazzle. The summons said 8:30. What if I was late and got into trouble?I had left in plenty of time, and yet, here I was running down the sidewalk. It was like the dream I have that I am back in high school and can’t remember my locker combination and I’m standing there trying every combination I know and my books are falling on the ground and OMG, I FORGOT TO DO MY HOMEWORK.

I ran across the street and up the steps to the OTHER courthouse, waited in line, walked through a metal detector, and then waited some more while security had to “take a look at my keys,” which I thought odd, as other than my plastic Jesus flashlight, there is nothing powerful on that lanyard. I suspect they wanted to get a good look at flashlight Jesus but didn’t want to ask.

Security complete, I made my way back to the jury room and checked in with a very very nice woman who asked my name.

“Do you need to see my summons?” “No.” “Do you need my photo ID?” “No, sweetheart, you’re fine.”

Had I known that they weren’t going to verify my identity, I could have put an ad on Craigslist: “Jury Duty Proxy. Must be female or identify as female. Must be willing to be bored out of your mind for 4 hours. Script will be provided. $15 an hour.”

Soda, coffee, and water was available while we waited, but thanks to my walnut-sized bladder, I passed on all three. I noticed the clock on the wall as I went to take my seat—8:30am exactly. Booyah. Take THAT, parking garage! And then I continued to glance up at the clock: 8:45. 9:00. 9:20. 9:45… I felt brain cells start to die off with each tick of the second hand.

Finally, a bailiff and judge’s assistant came to get us. I’m not sure if “judge’s assistant” is the correct term, but it’s what I remember he was. And if you happen be an assistant to a judge, I mean no disrespect; I don’t know legal terms. But whatever your name is, really, waiting almost an hour and a half? We need to do something about that.

They issued us all Juror numbers and made us stand in several rows. My number was 33, which pleased me, as my favorite number is 3. Yes, it’s a stupid thing to be happy about, but when you wait 1.5 thirsty hours in a large room with nothing but a 2014 Real Simple magazine to keep you company, you find joy where you can.

Numbers in hand, our band of possible jurors tromped out to the elevators and up to the 7th floor, where we were put into yet another order to make entering the courtroom easier. I commented to the woman next to me that in the time it took to arrange us, we could have already been in there. She agreed AND had a British accent, so she also made me happy. I was grasping at Happiness Straws, people!

Into the courtroom we go where the attorneys and their clients were waiting. We all sat down and counsel made introductions. I tried to figure out who, exactly, were the defendant and plaintiff, cause there seemed to be an awful lot of people on one side of the room. Turns out, the plaintiff had an attorney, another attorney, another woman who isn’t an attorney but serves some purpose, the plaintiff and the plaintiff’s brother. The plaintiff’s side really needed a bigger table.

The judge enters and we all rise. It’s the first time I’ve been in a courtroom and the first time I’ve ever risen for a judge. I mean, I’ve watched Judge Judy, but I don’t rise for her. Sorry, Judy. The judge was nothing but kind, thanking us all for giving of our time to be there and be a part of this very important judicial process. He asked if anyone had a reason that they felt made them unable to serve on a jury and oh, did the hands go up. He addressed each possible juror, row by row.

Now, I’ll be honest-I was going to raise my hand. I went in there knowing that I was going to raise my hand. I have pre-paid sessions on my books and being selected for a trial is going to be a pain and possibly cost me money, as I will have to reschedule those appointments and hope that everyone is okay with the rescheduling and if not, I will have to refund hundreds of dollars. I had my speech all prepared as to why I could not serve on a 2-3 day trial and then…I heard the reasons others were giving:

“My dad has Alzheimer’s and we are in the process of moving him into a long term care facility. It’s just me and my brother taking care of him and we take turns, because we both have to work.”

“I am budgeted down the dollar and can’t afford the $7.50 an hour stipend the court issues. I need my work hours or I won’t be able to pay my rent.”

“I take care of my dad and my grandmother. Both are in a wheelchair and my dad just had a pacemaker installed, so he can’t do any sort of heavy lifting. As for my grandma, I cook for her and help bathe her and take both she and my dad to their doctor appointments.”

Yeah, THESE are true hardships. And having heard them, I kept my mouth shut.

The process continued with counsel asking open questions to all of us. If we had something we felt relevant to the question, then we were to raise our hand. And many did…including me.

See, the case going to trial was a civil case involving a very elderly lady (plaintiff) and a young woman in her 20’s (defendant) I don’t know the details, but it involved a car accident in 2015 wherein the plaintiff was claiming negligence on the part of the defendant. The plaintiff claimed the results of the auto accident left her with lingering back and neck issues.

The attorney for the plaintiff went first. He was an older man who was very hard of hearing, which resulted in him speaking quietly. So quietly, in fact, that the woman sitting in front of me raised her hand and suggested he use the microphone.

The questions included things like:

“Has anyone been injured in a car accident?” “Do any of you have family members working in the medical field.” “Do any of you have any knowledge or relationship with either counsel, the defendant or the plaintiff?” “Do any of you have issues with believing the assessment of a physician?” “Do any of you believe an individual should not be reasonably compensated for injuries.”

And there it was. The question that caused my hand to shoot up.

I stood, introduced myself as we were instructed to do, and said that I have a question. I really wanted to say, “Let me answer your question with a question,” as I’ve always wanted to use that line in a serious conversation, but felt that a courtroom setting might be pushing it.

Me: “I obviously don’t know the details of this case, but this is all over an auto accident, correct?”

Attorney: “Yes.”

Me: “And this case is a LAWSUIT over the auto accident, correct?”

Attorney: “Yes.”

Me: “Okay, then I think I do have issue with the term “reasonably compensated.”

Attorney: “What do you mean by that?”

Me: “Well, my daughter was recently in accident, just a little over a year go. She was sitting at a red light and a truck ran the red. It hit a car in the intersection which pushed another car into my daughter’s vehicle, pushing it up onto the sidewalk, totaling the car. 12 inches more and she would have been carried away in an ambulance. She was injured, both her back and her neck, but never once did she consider suing the guy who ran the red. She was thankful she was alive. The driver of the truck was simply in a hurry and made a bad call. No one died. Life was going to go on. But again, a lawsuit never entered her mind. Or ours.”

Attorney: “Okay, then, but let me ask you-don’t you think that if an individual is injured in an automobile accident that they are entitled to reasonable compensation for those injuries.”

Me: “Define “reasonable compensation.”

Attorney: <silence>

Me: Because what’s reasonable to some people certainly isn’t reasonable to others. And furthermore, isn’t that the reason we HAVE auto insurance? I mean, by law, we have to carry it. And doesn’t most auto insurance pay out medical when these things happen? And let’s face it, life stuff DOES happen. To all of us.

Attorney: “So you don’t think reasonable compensation due to negligence is required.”

Me: “I never said that. I said that I don’t know the details of the case, so I could be wrong, but if insurance covered the medical needs following the accident, then a lawsuit seems rather a waste of the court’s time. A lawsuit, at least to me, is a pretty big deal. I mean, let’s face it, we’re a litigious happy society, are we not? And there are big issues that demand that course of action. Giant, life shattering events. But this? Again, I don’t know the details, but from what you’ve shared with us thus far, I just don’t see it.”

I sat down and glanced at the counsel tables. The plaintiff was shooting daggers at me with her eyes and the attorney for the defense was looking down at his notes, but I swear I saw a hint of a smile.

But then, it started to snowball. Another hand shot up.

“Yeah, I can’t remember her name over there, but I agree with her. I served as foreman on a case where someone had already been compensated but sued anyway. I just think we sue over everything now.”

Another hand.

And another hand, all echoing that sentiment.

Jiminy Christmas. Would this help or hinder my chances of getting picked? I had no idea.

In the end, I didn’t get picked for the trial, and that’s okay. I was actually kind of invested in it at that point and would have liked to have been picked, but I was glad to at least have spoken my thoughts to the room as instructed and if they gave someone a different perspective, then good.

After the jury announcement was made, I said a little sadly under my breath, “Oh, I didn’t get picked.” The guy in front of me turned around and said, “Hah! Did you think you would after that? It was great, by the way. You practically made the case for the defense right there.”

I have nothing further. Juror #33 rests, your honor.

xoxo