#his own life but also the idea that in keeping the beef running he can in some way keep a part of michael alive too

[tteokdoroki]

nagi has beef with any of your pets cuz why do they get to lay around all day but he doesn’t :(

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— feline foe + seishiro nagi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — strangers to enemies except it’s nagi and your pet cat.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, fluff, semi-smutty, mentions of sex, suggestive towards the end, dry humping, owning a cat lol, the cat walks in on you, established relationship, pro player!nagi, fem!reader - not beta read !

⭑ words — 2K.

⭑ notes — thank u lambie for sending me this ! i thought it was too cute an idea not to write! also i queued this to post on nagi’s bday so happy bday to my bf <3!! enjoy! - m.list ✩

it might sound vain, but nagi was sure that before it arrived, he was the centre of your universe.

he had all of your attention, always. you went out of your way to bring him lunches at the stadium during practices and helped him drink water or energy drinks on the pitch at his games because you liked to believe that it would bring him good luck and he let you. his teammates heave with jealousy each and every time.

when your days were done, you’d let nagi settle his head in your lap while you brush back his hair and scratch at his scalp — letting him game to his heart's content in your company. nagi might have been pampered too and much to the point where he expected to have all of your attention… so he doesn’t quite understand why all of it shifts to a brand new presence in your lives. 

your cat. 

miruku. milk.

it’s a ridiculous name for an animal, nagi thinks, it’s a pest. annoying. but he couldn’t say no to you when you’d brought the stray cream-coloured kitty home, soaked in rain from where you’d chased it around his apartment complex trying to bring it inside. if he said no to you, that would’ve been another issue in itself — and nagi hated when you fought. it was bothersome having you play silent treatment.

so you keep it, the kitten, and everything changes for seishiro nagi. for the worst.

miruku can do everything nagi isn’t allowed to nd gets away with it as well. he raids the fridge if you leave it open, doesn’t have to pay to replenish it because of course cats don’t have income. he wakes you up at ungodly hours for playtime which usually consists of you sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking around a ball of yarn for the kitty to play with. it’s irritating for nagi, having your warmth stolen away from him and pulling him out of the depths of slumber by your lack of presence— all because the stupid cat wants to play ball and you just can’t seem to say no to it. 

the feline that’s suspiciously close to looking like your boyfriend if he were to be an animal is also allowed to sleep in. miruku naps where he pleases, in the linen closet, the corner of the kitchen where the water pipes run hot, on top of the drier and especially by the front door where he trips up nagi on the way in from practices. it’s like the cat is purposely trying to make the pro-player’s life even more difficult than it’s meant to be and you find it’s every single movement adorable. 

the worst place miruku could possibly nap is seishiro’s favourite spot— on your chest. nuzzled against your boobs on a warm sunday afternoon where your boyfriend should be, where your boyfriend should be making you giggle by sucking hickies into your neck while he thumbs at the skin underneath your breasts. he should be suckling on the sweet expanse of your skin lazily, working you up just enough to offer yourself up to appease seishiro’s insatiable appetite.

and its so sick that he can’t because of your pampered little pet. you’d just brush him off and tell him ‘you’ll get your turn later, sei,’ which makes nagi hate that stupid fucking cat even more than anything.

you don’t ever let seishiro sleep in these days, ripping the blankets from his tall frame every morning with a slice of toast hanging from between your pretty lips as you say. “get up sei, wake up for me, baby.” you coo sweetly, briefly letting go of your breakfast to kiss his forehead before you rush out of the door. “i won’t be happy if isagi or reo have to wake you up for practice. ‘kay?”

“mmm…lil’ longer. please angel.” he groans but you weave your fingers through his snow white locks to scratch at his scalp before you tug on them slightly. 

“up. seishiro nagi. i’ll see you later!” the tone you use is warning, and prompts nagi to shift int he sheets to get out of bed. 

he huffs, stretching his limbs a little too similarly to your kitty companion before the realisation hits— miruku is laying in your spot, comfy and cosy. sleeping. and it only pisses him off more. that should be him.

“you’re a pain.” seishiro narrows his eyes at the snoozing feline, scratching it under the chin and the twitch of miruku’s ears tells him that he’s been acknowledged as a rival. 

so be it. 

“how come this cat gets away with everythin’ ‘nd i don’t?”

nagi whines into your neck, watching with darkened and narrowed eyes as his feline opponent hops up onto the couch to join you both in your late night cuddle session. miruku makes his presence known, pushing his head under your chin affectionately and clawing at the fluffy blanket draped over you and your boyfriend. you obviously find it adorable, your hands slipping from seishiro’s soft white hair to tickle just behind your pet’s ear— completely discarding the man tucked into your side. 

“what are you talking about, sei?” you mumble absentmindedly — missing the way the striker squirms in his seat and squeezes you close by the waist, as if to pull you away from the offending kitty.

seishiro grumbles out a response. “he gets to sleep in, but when i do it, it’s a bother. same for when he gets in the fridge too, and when i nap on top of you—“

“stop complaining about him, sei. miruku is just a baby!” you scold your boyfriend, hugging your kitten to your chest, cooing down at him as if he really is a baby. nagi seethes from beside you, that should be him in your arms and not some cat-like freeloader from the streets. miruku blinks up at the white-haired pro player slowly, his mouth opening in a petty meow that almost makes nagi hiss back in response. 

“i’m supposed to be your baby.”

“and you are! but you’re just a little more self-sufficient than my precious lil’ kitty— he needs me to take care of him.” 

“why don’t you just take care of me? cats are s’pposed to be independent,” seishiro nuzzles into your neck, his lips still pouty against your skin and you’d be a liar to say you weren’t overwhelmed with affection for your two boys. “‘n looking after the two of us must be a drag…” 

rolling your eyes, you turn your head to capture nagi in a surprise chaste kiss just to sate him— brushing your lips over his delicately. “i do take care of you, seishiro. some might say you’re a little spoilt with how much i do,” smiling into the kiss, you scratch your nails through his scalp in the way that he likes, a lot similar to your feline friend before jumping up from the couch with a clap of your hands. “now which one of my boys is hungry?”

miruku is promptly shooed to the floor beside a frustrated nagi left without your warmth. the pair share a brief moment of eye contact as your boyfriend runs a hand over his face in annoyance. 

“i hate you.”

“meow.”

the final straw for nagi is the night your cat makes it into the bedroom while you’re having sex. 

he’s pent up, training has been more intensive than usual and all he wants to do is come home and lose himself in you. you let him, falling into the sheets with seishiro nagi, your hands lost in his sea of perfectly soft white hair, your mouth on his, your legs wrapped around the small of his waist as he sinks into you for the first time in a long time. you share a moan, muffled by nagi’s tongue working it’s way down your throat and his entire body weight thrown over you. 

somehow he manages to tear through your clothes, tongue hungrily lapping over your pert nipples while you tug his aching cock free from the confines of his shorts. tears sting at your waterline as nagi presses into your cunt without much prep. he’s so big, you feel as though he might already be kissing your cervix without even moving and you tug hard on his hair at the feeling of nagi twitching within your walls.

“s-sei, god. fill me up s’good—!”

he cuts you off with a throaty moan, eyes rolling back as he gives an experimental thrust. “s’no fair…s’pretty. so tight around me, fuck, angel…”

the moment is perfect, he’s dizzy with love and desire and all caught up in the heat it all… that is until your stupid fucking cat starts screaming bloody murder from outside your locked door. 

“leave it,” seishiro grunts, pawing at your sides and languidly rolling his hips into yours. “s’probably nothin’, angel.” 

you gasp and nod, delirious with ecstasy and pull him closer but miruku seems to whine again— scratching pathetically at the door. “sei, what if—?” 

“he’s fine, jus’ focus on me, pretty thing.” and for the most part you try, you let nagi have his way with you— let him pin you to the bed and make you see galaxies and you’re both about to burst when he swears to the fucking stars he feels that cat’s paw between his balls. 

he doesn’t remember what happens next, just that he sees red or turns it and you are equally as embarrassed— shuffling out of the room to deal with your pesky cat, draped in one of sei’s spare hoodies. 

that’s when nagi decides he’s had enough. 

his final plan isn’t to get rid of miruku but instead to steal your attention away from the dumb animal. 

nagi puts a little more effort into cleaning up himself and the house for you once he gets back from practice at blue lock ( after multiple face times to barou and isagi, reo and others ). he stops by a flower shop and puts together an arrangement that he thinks you’ll like because the colours remind him so much of you. 

when you come home, your eyes light up at the bouquet on your sparkling countertops and the sight of your boyfriend lounging around in your kitchen on his phone. “baby, did you get these for me?” you swoon. 

“yeah. on the way back from practice i went to that flower shop you always talk about.”

“sei, that’s not even on the way home,” you smile and his heart flutters in his chest. “you didn’t have to go out of your way for me.”

nagi bristles with happiness as you make your way into his arms of your own accord and hide your face in his toned chest. “i’d do anything for you, angel,” he mumbled into your hairline and uses a finger to tilt your head up for a gentle kiss, quickly distracting you from miruku who’s jumped up onto the counter. “missed you, s’much.” he knows exactly what he’s doing when he presses his cock between your thighs, dropping his lips to your neck wetly. 

“m-missed you too, sei but…gotta feed the cat…” 

your kitten purrs at your side but seishiro rolls you over, nailing your hips down to the countertops and grinds into you feverishly. his plan is working. 

“no buts, need you. god… s’not fair bein’ away from you f’so long. baby…fuck.” he’s whiny and needy, grabbing handfuls of your ass to slide you back and forth on his growing erection so that you become putty in his hands. you’re so lightheaded that you don’t even hear your cat meowing for your attention— clinging onto nagi’s broad shoulders for dear life. “unless you want me to stop?”

you blink up at your boyfriend, teary eyed and ravenous— for once not reaching out instinctively to pet miruku but instead reaching up to tug on seishiro’s soft snowball locks and bring him down to your height. “i don’t want you to stop, seishiro,” you growl, your voice dipping into sensual and sultry territory. “i want you to fuck me.” 

“can do, angel.” he coos, letting you drag him by the hand towards your shared bedroom.

nagi throws a smug look over his shoulder at your unhappy cat, grinning from ear to ear as miruku hisses at him in defeat.

nagi: 1 - miruku: 0

[qtkoshi]

Maybe gn!Reader and Hobie adopt a kitten and the other three (Pavitr, Gwen, and Miles) come to see the kitten? Maybe a orange kitten gn!Reader wanted to name Spunk or Spike while Hobie gave them a spike collar? Would be cute lol

i luv ur brain anon

"you got....a kitten?"

- ok ok idk if this is what u meant, but u can feel free to run this with the bubblegum reader + hobie bc i think it fits alright :-) - also get a little deep with describing relationship,, but it’s necessary for the plot ! (...) - also!!! tysm for the requests; i am very excited to get into them, but will prob wait till tmrw to release bc it is my birthday today <3 much love to you all

──★ ˙ ̟ to the stars ！

general headcannons

alright first of all: hobie with a kitten? i’m in tears. 

i love the hc that hobie has a soft spot for cats and the fact that y’all got one together? bye.

NAPS WITH THE KITTEN JUST NESTLED BETWEEN BOTH OF YOU

this cat is gonna be SPOILED in attention i tell u rn

hobie isn’t as obvious ab it as u, but the amount of times u see him chilling with the cat just perched on his shoulder?? (why are u taking the baby swinging across the city hobie; wait a min now–)

how u got him

imagine this: ur walking past an alley and hear this small little meow; after further investigation you find this tuft of orange fur crying outside the dumpster and

now u gotta take it in what r u talking about!!

bringing him home immediately ; hobie's spidey senses prob picked up the cat's presence before you got in the door.

'baby what's that.' 'c'mon spiderman we got saving to do'

man can't even argue with you

hobie not naming the cat himself bc he doesn’t wanna enforce socio-constructed labels on an unsuspecting creature that can’t consent

u can tho.

and while you very much want to, you tell hobie you gotta think on it for a bit – it has to fit just right!! (tbh he rlly doesn’t mind the cat being nameless, but he’s kinda whipped and will kinda go with what u want if it helps give that pretty lil smile to him again)

spider-squad finding out ab him

the besties r wrapping up something with a fight and hobie’s all k gotta leave and check on the cat and the rest are like ????? 

pav absolutely floored bc how dare did u not mention this sooner hobie

'so you lot wanna come see him?' (inter-dimensional travel ensues) – also never gonna complain ab coming to hobie’s house they all think his place is dope

i’m sure we all know orange cats are fucking crazy and that does not exclude the little gremlin jumping off the walls of your flat rn

hobie ofc is smirking bc his son the cat is a little agent of chaos and he couldn’t be more proud 

you, on the other hand, are just a little tired trying to get the fucker to stay still for a second so u can put on the damn flea medicine

everybody loves him are u kidding (miles a little hesitant tho, he still has beef with the last spiderman-variant cat he met :/ ) 

“so whats its name?” miles was watching with wary eyes as the little ball of fur darted around. with a heavy (and definitely not dramatic) sigh, you walk over to the group “still haven’t picked. we just found him yesterday.”

luv the idea of hobie looking at u anytime ur in the room (stay with me now) — can’t help it u just grab all his attention, maybe stop being so lovely idk

speaking of your relationship: he has spent years battering against everything life throws at him that having your love in the palm of his hands? something to protect not in the way he does as a hero, but in the way to cherish as a person?? give the man a break, he deserves to admire you whenever he can.

anyways hobie’s looking at you before going ‘oh yea’, just grunts and pulls out this little collar with little spikes and their matching and oh my that is so cute

says he found it in some garbage, most def made the collar with some scraps like he did his own (gotta keep it cool yk)

you giddy and putting the collar on the little heathen and just all ‘omg wait a min’

promptly lifting the cat up and “THIS IS SPIKE.”

cue golf claps from the squad with some ooo’s and aah’s

more gen headcannons

remember when hobie and the cat were swinging around the city? yea he's taking that mf everywhere. puts him in his pocket like a little surprise

hobie loves to play fight with the cat

spike is the perfect mix; got hobie’s energy and your brightness it’s a win-win

i could write more but i'll stop here for now 🕸️

⊗

[oddeyecir-cle]

 ✶ ˖  ࣪  📹 .  ぅ

lee donghyuck enemies to lovers fic ideas (all fics are haechan × reader)

haechan who is your rival coworker + secretly deadpool

for the sake of this story, lets assume deadpool does hide his identity. he works at a tech company and is constantly beefing with his coworker that he's lowkey attracted to. and the plot could maybe be something like you accidentally finding out his identity and then using that information to slightly/ kind of/ in a non-toxic way to blackmail him. eg: making him run errands for you, asking to tag along on his quests as deadpool. then the pair gets closer through all the time they spend together etc etc.

✶ note : hyuck HAS to be the sassiest, funniest, most sarcastic, cocky human being ever. also include some spidermark maybe

haechan as the prince of the neighbouring kingdom

historical au. very basic ik but hear me out. your kingdom's glory and power is gradually draining and it's threatened by multiple rivaling kingdoms. that is when your mother, the queen, tells you there is no choice but to turn to hyuck's kingdom for help. you hate the idea but you know everyone's counting on you so you go through with it anyways. (this is historical so there could be a very cool scene of the reader riding on a horse in battle armour to neighbouring kingdom's palace themself but whatever). they're good, kind people so they agree to help you. they send over a part of their military along with some weapons and of course haechan himself, their most prized possession who, like you, is skilled with a sword and is a wise leader. there's lots of quarrels between the both of you when it comes to the topic of which one has more power over the other and about who should be leading the troops. but you soon put your animosity aside when you realize that you have to work as a team to win. (insert dramatic battle sequence with swords and arrows flying around. at one point, you and haechan lock eyes and suddenly he drops to the ground. the world starts to blur around you when you realize he's been stabbed in his back. you frantically rush to his aid but he falls limp in your arms. its now upto the writer to kill him there itself and end the story. very angsty, i love. or they could also save him somehow and give main characters the happy ending they deserve).

 ✶ note : sloooooowwwww buuuurn. i mean this should be a long ass series with 7k+ words per chapter. should be so heavy on the angst and the hate that it makes you wonder if they do actually end up loving each other in the end. please include sword fighting scenes with sexual tension i beg you. (im big on bollywood, can u tell).

haechan as a stranger/ tour guide you meet on a family trip

you've just gotten out of a 3 year long relationship after your boyfriend cheated on you with your best friend. things get worse when your family, unaware of your breakup, forces you on a 2 week trip to *insert cute, small country" . here you meet the annoying, sarcastic, a-little-too-happy-for-his-own-good donghyuck. he is with the group your family is touring with (him being the tour guide is a pretty cute plot too but it could kind of complicate things later) and instantly wins everyone over with his charm, except you of course. in classic hyuck fashion, he tries to keep getting your attention and eventually succeeds. his company helps ease the pain of the heartbreak he didn't even know about. its bittersweet when it's time to part ways. you realise after you come back to your college dorm that you never exchanged phone numbers and you fail to find him on social media as well. but fate has strange ways of bringing people together. which is why you cant stop smiling when crash into a certain someone during a regular grocery run.

✶ note : more on the fluff and less on the angst for this one. and maybe a dash of slice of life as well.

haechan as captain of the football team.

there is no actual plot for this other than the fact that you're a cheerleader and also his academic rival (there is no trope i love more than this). my vision for this is very 2000s romcom. ik this isn't a lot to work with but there could be some sub trope like fake dating mostly.

✶ note: nothing much just make it cute

+i have a few more ideas, will probably make a part 2

++if in the future, by some miracle, people do find these interesting enough to use, please dont forget to credit me!!

[espumado]

So, google pointed me this old article (probably because of The Bear😅) and everyone knows Kasama, and Genie Kwon, the chef and one of the owners, who appeared in 3x10, during Ever's funeral dinner. It's about the way they started and operate and for me how this can be an example for The Bear restaurant.

Made me think about how Carmy thought about this restaurant when he and Syd needed inspiration, maybe he wasn't talking just about the food but also about the place itself.

When Syd talked about get a star with her dad she said she wanted one -"it's a personal victory and very good for business...that will keep us consistent, low to the ground, but a little bit above it- sounds realistic! But they never really discussed that, the number of stars they want! Carmy seems to be operating in 3 star mode this season, right? Not what Syd had in mind. And one star means: High quality cooking- something they could achieved with the team they have. And three stars means: Exceptional cuisine- something that maybe only Carmy and maybe Syd are ready for. And that's probably why Carmy is acting like only he can do this and taking all the responsibility for himrself.

What I mean is that the way Kasama operates seems like the ideal model for The Bear to follow....that's how they started:

Just like Nat, Carmy and Syd did during the renovation... And that's how they wanted to start, and their "philosophy" and how they work:

They do not want the trappings of fine dining, they cared about their neighbors and customers and the menu prices, cared about food waste and control cost, and found the balance between daytime sandwiches and fine dining... These are the problems that The Bear is having and need to resolve! Nat and Syd are more aware of it and trying but Carmy is lost (mainly in his own mind but he is also terrible with business and math). A lot of people are saying that they have to go back to how everyone were in the first 2 seasons, the love and care for each other and the community, and I agree. Carmy needs to remember or decide how he wants to operate the restaurant, why he wants a star and of course, he and Syd MUST have that conversation!

***side note: I don't know where the showrunners get the idea for this restaurant model like The Bear -with a window for sandwiches and fine dining and a bar- but i realized that none of the real chefs and their restaurants who inspired the show and are Storer's friends (like Mr Beef and Avec) seem to have this kind of model...So made me think that maybe Kasama really was the inspiration for them???***

I think Kasama is a good example for them to follow, they opened at the beginning of the pandemic and "thanks to a smattering of virtual events, sponsorships, and a long patio season, but most of all, those regulars" has managed to keep working which is not easy in this situation (They'll still need outside help and Uncle Jimmy is going broke so who knows... maybe Donna could be help???) But they have a good model with healthy motivation, with sandwiches by day and dinners by night, and costs under control, and the star was just a consequence. Maybe even Richie, who is not happy with the way they are operating and the search for the star, might relate better with this much more functional and healthy model, right?!

Anyway, the fact that this restaurant is run by a couple is just a detail, of course 🙃🫠 These last seasons Carmy is in search of his dream restaurant but also amusement and enjoyment (because he thinks cooking and run a restaurant isn't fun and he needs to look for it outside of work completely), trying to figure out what really makes him happy, and also have a personal life, which is fair. But honestly, to me, maybe not the business part of it, but it seems like what he loves is cooking, or at least it used to be and he needs to rediscover it (he enjoyed cook with Mikey and working at the other restaurants before Chef David, and he asked Syd if she "still love to cook" under the table, as if that was important to himself too). Maybe he'll find a balance, maybe even with Claire (but they will need to talk about it, and he'll need stop acting like one is stopping the other), but here's what Genie Kwon and Tim Flores say about work and personal life, a little about legacy, the star and the people they cook for that both Syd and Carmy could listen:

Like, it's okay not to love the whole thing, the whole process, it happens. But if you like what you do, it may becomes your personal life too and that doesn't need to be a problem, you just need to find balance. And that was what Genie Kwon said during the funeral dinner: I feel like an impostor because I feel like I don't like cooking as much as everybody else does. Um, I knew that I always wanted to make things for people (that made Carmy stop focus on Fields and look at Syd) And then, growing up, you know, my parents were never in a good place, but I always knew that I could make something so specific that would hmmm... bring them joy, you know? (now we see Luca) And that was the thing that I got addicted to, (and now Syd) and I think that I seek approval out of people every single day.

Ps: Now I want to see why Syd started cooking, what motivated her, why she likes to take care of people, if it's because of her mom or dad, something like that...and also Carmy, we know that cooking was the common ground between him and his brother, but how it started? Mikey invited him to the kitchen? It was an escape from their mother? Maybe flashbacks? Maybe they could have a talk about it?...anyway, just wondering...

@brokenwinebox @whenmemorydies @moodyeucalyptus @currymanganese @thoughtfulchaos773 @ambeauty you might like this article

[nqueso-emergency]

Buddie seems to think we have a problem to them shipping or rooting or believing for their ship. But it’s not, have as many couch and color theory as you want. Hell, everyone has different approach and conclusion to the character and/or their relationship from watching the show, I get that. Fandom is for having theories discussing them, making head canon and creating works around them.

What people have problem is them being the absolute vile human being to the real life people be it a fan, crews, and even the actors themselves. We have problem with them because their counterproductive has always been at the expense of others. One of which treating their own fanon or ideas as canon and/or true fact. I discovered 911 universe thru LS first. And from the beginning they’ve always say that Tarlos was the replacement for Buddie. That Tim was going to green lit them before he left but the exces was not having it. When asked the buddies never provided actual interview or press and as long if seen they just replied with tweet that comes from another buddies with different variation of wording. And listen I don’t have a problem if they believe that, but they keep running it as a fact, then dismissing Tarlos as a legit relationship because they started too soon (which I seem to remember the most paying ship from that show doing this too, but I guess if it’s a queer relationship it has to have the fanfiction plot 🤷🏾‍♂️) or they started from hookup instead of years of slow burn (which surprise most relationship goes from casual then taking the leap of faith to pursue it seriously or not). Then the other day they come again saying that the Rafael or Ronen have beef with each other. Which I don’t care about the RL actors but also what a fucking weirdo you have to be to micro-analyze two actors especially from the show you say you didn’t like. Oh they definitely had been bothering the LS actors too asking about their opinion on Buddie (bc of course that’s just regular behavior for them) and being mad when the actors answered in neutral and the other answered he only has eyes for his own show and relationship, because I guess even they knew how obsessive these fans can get

Before 2024, the buddies weren’t this massive and “openly” hateful and it was mostly Tarlos because from their own mind that they choose to believe as real factual information, Tarlos was the one thing preventing Buddie to “happen”. Now while I don’t closely join the 911, due to algorithm I have witnessed how nasty they have been to the idea of BuckTommy/ just Tommy in general. Because now this new guy is also the one preventing my two preferred men to kiss.

I think wishing you guys well and for Buddies to enjoy their ship without bothering others seems like a big imagination because it’s either being mad at the exces for making other couples instead of their preferred one or being mad at themselves for getting too worked and baited up by their own theories that was made by their own mind and choose to believe it as canon. I guess that’s why a lot of them seem to be mad if they’re not going to have buddies this season. Because what a waste of 7 years being baited by your own brain 🤣

This

[destinyc1020]

confession sunday (I promise this isn’t hate I’ve just been thinking this for a long while): definitely wish tom and z were in agreement on how private they’d like to keep their relationship. with these last few months, tom was basically a zendaya fan page promoting her for dune and challengers (even though she didn’t need it). I think that allowed people to hope for a bday post from her for Tom’s birthday but she’s on a completely different wavelength: unfollowed everyone, not posting for Tom’s bday, not mentioning anything about R&J, etc. it’s no wonder the running joke is tom is in love while z just loves him 🥴 unfortunately it also opens up a discussion about z not showing her true feelings which I definitely feel people bring up in an anti black sort of way to insinuate black women as cold and not as emotionally available. all in all, they present themselves on different levels of how private their relationship actually is.

Thank you for your confession Anon. I will admit, I really don't quite understand your logic about this. Tom and Z are both private in their relationship, and they're also two different people. They may have different social media habits, different likes/dislikes, and just different ways of operating in the world. It doesn't mean that they're not in harmony with how to live their relationship privately. Obviously, as two people who have been in a relationship with each other for years, they talk about EVERYTHING.

Z unfollowed everyone on social media for reasons that had NOTHING to do with Tom. Why would it have anything to do with him?🥴 We don't know everything that's going on in her life.

Also, I kind of noticed that not too many people wished Tom HBD this year. Maybe it was his choice? Maybe he asked people not to post much for his birthday? Maybe he didn't want people making a big deal? If I recall, I don't think Nikki even posted anything for him this year. Does that mean he and his mom have beef? C'mon! LOL 😅

I really think you should watch what Paris Jackson says below about wishing her father Happy Birthday on social media. Turns out, Michael Jackson never really wanted people to be celebrating his birthday or wishing him HBD anyway in the first place! Which was his RIGHT!

I think fans really need to let go of this idea of thinking that they know more about a celebrity and their relationships with other people based on social media posts/likes/etc. It's so stupid. Imagine STRANGERS thinking that they know about your depth of feelings for someone more than you yourself. Smh.

Also, Z mentioned Tom UNPROMPTED MIND YOU during the DUne 2 Press tour, and the Challengers press tour. To me, I think she's perfectly fine? Just because she's a private person, it doesn't mean she doesn't love the man. IF Tom wants to like posts from her Fan accounts, so what?? Let him! He can like his gf's pics online if he wants. We only see a snippet of what Z does for Tom. So, for fans to assume that she doesn't love him that much just because of what they only physically see with their own eyes is just total rubbish to me. Tom has been with her for almost 8 years. He went BACK to her even after dating 2 other women. There is NO way he would have done that if he felt that Z didn't love him back...

Also want to add: I'm kind of sick and tired of this narrative that Z (or other woc) have to somehow "PROVE" their love for their bf, when white women are never ever expected to do the same. 😒🙄

TL;DR Version: Social media isn't everything.

Btw.... Paris so so GORGEOUS. She should seriously model lol.

[zahri-melitor]

Recent Reads:

I haven’t done a round up of stuff I’ve picked up randomly for a while so let’s have one:-

Exit Stage Left: The Snagglepuss Chronicles: I tried this, on the back of the fact I do enjoy Mark Russell’s satire. After one issue I rapidly realised I simply don’t know enough about the Hanna-Barbera characters in this to care about the adaption going on. The premise is interesting, it’s just Not For Me.

Madame Xanadu 2008 #1-10: this is Matt Wagner with Amy Reeder on art. Reeder's art is ADORABLE and she has such fun drawing elaborate clothing all the way through this. I really enjoy Matt Wagner's ability to take old stories or concepts and breathe a modern comics approach into them, making them a lot more accessible. This is Wagner telling the backstory of Nimue Inwudu, stopping in with her at 5 points in her history (Camelot, the court of Kublai Khan, the French Revolution, Jack the Ripper London, and America WWII) and her interactions with a bunch of characters from the Magic side of DC (Merlin, Etrigan, Death of the Endless, the Phantom Stranger, Giovanni Zatara, and Jim Corrigan as the Spectre). Nimue has a MASSIVE beef with the Phantom Stranger. She does not like him at all, because he keeps turning up at some of the worst points in her life and won't help her try to evade terribly fated things. Come for the Amy Reeder art, stay for the story.

The Demon: Hell is Earth 2018: I enjoyed this. Because I don’t clean read Etrigan stuff in order I cannot remember if Etrigan is officially a Rhymer again as of Rebirth (he appears to be rhyming for fun and because he enjoys it, but isn’t bound to do so, but he’s also getting mocked by his demon uncle for using rhymes). In any case, Jason Blood and Etrigan get separated for hell-related reasons, and they’re running around with Madame Xanadu and Merlin to prevent Belial taking over Earth by invading from Hell. Good times. Lots of people die. Etrigan potentially ends up King of Hell at the end of this story.

Swamp Thing: I was going to make this its own post but heck let’s put everything in together.

Len Wein (Swamp Thing #1-13 1972): Wein's work is absolutely solid magical horror. He sets up an intriguing premise to build from and he can spin a good story. It's exactly the sort of amusing writing that keeps me coming back to, say, Warlord. Worthwhile to see the starting premise.

David Michelinie (Swamp Thing #14-18, 21-22 1972): Not as good at Wein, but definitely can tell a story. You can tell he spent time on House of Mystery given the episodic horror nature of his storytelling.

Gerry Conway (Swamp #19-20, 23-24 1972 plus Challengers of the Unknown #81-87 1977): Conway I think is the first writer who actually gets some of the specific horror you can imbue in this concept, especially around identity. I can see how his ideas could contribute to the later concepts Moore will introduce. I don't think his execution is fantastic but the hand regeneration? Yeah. Yeah that is playing with the ideas available.

Martin Pasko (Brave and the Bold #176 1955, Saga of the Swamp Thing #1-19 1982): Pasko is definitely processing things. Like, the man has an entire story that's just him responding to the Atlanta Child Murders of 1979-1981. He is very much a cynic about the innocence of childhood (or innocence in general, actually) and wants to explore the dark side of humanity.

The Phantom Stranger: these have been backups to the Martin Pasko Swamp Thing issues. Mostly I’ve found them pretty trite and a bit overly religious in places. Yes I know his entire concept is rooted in religious myth (as the Wandering Jew) but I mean more in a 'this tale has an Overt Christian Moral' way. The concept of the character is fascinating. The execution seems to be very across the shop.

Outsiders #1-33 2003: oh boy. Uh. Tomasi's fill using the original Batman & The Outsiders characters was a WELCOME reprieve to this. Okay, in terms of the main run: I tend to find Judd Winick a writer that either I'm fully enjoying or decidedly not to my taste. Outsiders falls into the 'not to my taste' category. I can see what Winick is going for in terms of 'let's make this Gritty! And Mature!' except for it's really not that gritty and his idea of making it mature is just having everyone hooking up a lot on panel, whether or not said hookup makes characterisation sense. And then he'll turn around every 10 issues or so and have some quite interestingly interrogative storytelling about Dick and Roy. (literally: you want issues #1, 11 and 21). I see what a bunch of the DickRoy shippers enjoy in this, but there's a lot of cantilevered cloud structures required to extract the Shippy Goodness out of the rest of this run.

[thegameartist03]

@cryptidcaper I'd love to talk about them! This is gonna be a pretty long post, so I put in a couple tl;dr's for those who just want to get the gist of it.

I have no idea what to call this, so I'll keep running with it being a Phantom of the Paradise au. There are some changes to the themes and content of the original story based on what I felt comfortable writing about and discussing, but everything else is pretty much intact. If you have any questions, suggestions, or comments, feel free to throw them my way! I'll be happy to talk more about it.

(overall tl;dr: the au is set in the 2020s, the supernatural is part of everyday life, Swan is the head of media conglomerate Death Studios and working for an Entity known as Sparrow to collect souls, zombies and ghosts make for cheap labor, Winslow is trying to get his stage production of Faust seen, Phoenix has a YouTube channel for explaining the paranormal and wants her own show, Beef is a writer, actor, and director who gets an arguably worse fate than the movie, Swan took the band name Undeads too literally and now the Juicy Fruits are trapped working for him forever, Philbin is a stone construct disguised as a human)

A little context about the world to start. (tl;dr, it's the 2020s, paranormal beings like zombies exist and are well known but not talked about, Swan made a deal with a powerful Entity called Sparrow to stay young forever and collects souls for Sparrow in exchange, now Swan is head of the Death Studios media conglomerate, he's incredibly influential and successful, meanwhile he's using contracts to exploit and control his workforce which benefits both him and Sparrow, most workers are Undead or constructs because their labor is cheaper.)

This version of the story is set in the 2020s (partly because I didn't want to do a ton of research on the 70s, partly because I thought it'd be funny if Winslow started dissing Swan on twitter). The supernatural is very present and well known by people but not often acknowledged. Ghosts and zombies exist, spirits can decide to help your houseplants grow or give you bad luck, hand-carved constructs are used for jobs that would be too dangerous for humans, and fae-like beings known as Entities walk the lines between worlds and lure people into contracts to increase their power. Talking about these paranormal parts of the world is taboo for most so there's a lot of fear and misunderstanding surrounding them. It's also kept hush-hush by certain people who rely on the supernatural to profit.

Swan is one of these people. In the 50s, an Entity known as Sparrow approached him at his lowest and convinced him to sign a contract. In exchange for eternal youth and power, Swan would collect more souls for Sparrow. Swan has been largely successful with this through his company Death Studios (upgraded from Death Records) and has expanded from the music industry into general entertainment. He now directs a media conglomerate and makes use of social media to promote his definitely not stolen or exploited productions. Think Mr. Beast meets Disney meets Netflix. He's wildly popular, and partly due to the influence and power granted by Sparrow, almost no one questions how he's still so young and successful and those who do ask questions are quickly silenced. Every artist, writer, actor, singer, musician, producer, etc dreams of one day working for Swan.

Behind the scenes, Swan uses his sweeping control of the entertainment industry to hire fresh faces, sign them onto exploitative contracts, and then drain them of all they're worth. This benefits both him and Sparrow. And, if someone tries to leave or raise the alarm, they simply have a little 'accident' and are brought back as an Undead who can be exploited even more and paid even less. The majority of Swan's employees are actually Undead who have been trapped by their contracts and unable to move on as long as Swan finds them useful.

With that lengthy explanation over, onto the characters!

Winslow Leach is about the same, he's a composer and writer who's been working on a musical stage production of Faust for most of his life. He's not well known and dreams that his work will one day be seen by the world. He has a knack for getting into places he shouldn't be, he's bad with computers and writes most things out by hand, and at this point he's naive and almost blindly optimistic. I'm also giving him The Tism and reclaiming those vibes from the movie because Projection and Yes.

Phoenix never got into singing, though her voice is still terrific. Instead, she's a paranormal investigator and has her own small YouTube channel talking about the supernatural and its presence in their world. She's not as afraid of the unnatural as most people are, and she hopes that exposing these things that people try to sweep under the rug will help them understand the paranormal better and be less afraid of it. She dreams of having her own show one day with the budget to do proper explorations of lesser-known paranormal sites and beings. She's determined to reach this goal to the point of recklessness and risking her own safety, especially since some of these beings can be incredibly dangerous. She's waiting for her shot to get out of her dead end job and chase her goals, and she's not letting anything get in the way.

Swan is Swan, the only big difference is he has a bit more obvious supernatural-ness to him. His Entity-given power relies on perception, making people perceive him however he wants them to. He can extend this power to others and disguise his more inhuman staff so they blend in with the natural world. He plans to open a new major studio location/online streaming service called Paradise+ and is looking for the right content to do it. He's also on TikTok, which is horrifying enough.

Beef! He's a professional actor and writer who's directed and taken part in plenty of stage productions and films in his time. He's also a guitarist, which doesn't come into play in his work as often as he'd like. He suffers the same fate as he does in the movie, but that's far from the end of his story.

The Juicy Fruits are Swan's swiss army knife of an entertainment group, and of course they've all signed contracts with him. Whatever the trends are, the Juicy Fruits will adapt to them. They've gone from songs to gaming to children's entertainment. At one point, the group decided they wanted to move on from Death Studios and tried to exit their contract. Unfortunately, there was an 'accident' during one of the rehearsals, and now they're permanently trapped under Swan's thumb unable to escape or reenter society. The 'accident' also affected their looks, so when they perform they're either animated with motion capture or disguised by Swan or heavy makeup and prosthetics to hide the fact they are no longer alive.

Sometime in the 60s, Swan purchased an older property that included a number of stone gargoyles. In need of some body guards that wouldn't ask questions and weren't as fragile as the usual human grunts, he had them removed from the building and then brought them to life. Thus, Philbin was created. He's Swan's right hand man and does all the dirty work. He doesn't have much to complain about; Swan gave him a disguise so he can appear as human, he gets paid enough and treated better than most of the other employees, and he's got relative freedom in his job. Most contracts are signed through Philbin on behalf of Swan.

This is already really long, so I'll go in depth about the plot in a separate post. But, to give a short summary, the plot of the movie still happens (with a few twists and a different ending), and then the characters go through a few arcs trying to figure themselves out and how to escape Swan's influence. Winslow in particular struggles with his identity and who and what he is after getting Phantom'd. There's laughs to be had, horrors to be witnessed, and not everyone is going to be making it out alive (or un-alive). As a final note, if anyone has any ideas for what this should be called, lmk!

[themaddoctorappreciationclub]

Do fights ever break out between some of the Doctors? Do any of them have beef with each other?

The Receptionist nods, looking down at the papers in front of them. "Yes, there are quite a lot of fights. Thankfully, the majority of them are verbal and never escalate to physical. Sometimes, though, physical fights do happen. As far as I have been made aware, none have held a grudge..."

They suddenly sit straight as a board in their seat, their robotic face somehow growing pale. "There is, however... ONE issue that has been brought to my attention. A bit of a war of sorts of two differing opinions... It's about the idea of inviting a... certain doctor to our club. Let me find the papers that started it."

They rustle through some files, before pulling out a paper with messy penmanship written on it. The classic doctor handwriting. "You see, every doctor has the ability to request that a doctor be invited into our club, as long as you also write why you think they should be allowed to join. Then, the higher-ups will look over the requested doctor's work before deciding whether or not to invite them. You can request anonymously, or have your name written on the paper. This person requested anonymously... You know what? Let me just show you the paper." They place the paper on the desk, pushing it towards you.

"I would like to request that Dr. Josef Heiter be invited to join The Mad Doctor Appreciation Club for performing one of, if not, the most infamous and groundbreaking experiments in the history of mad medicine. He also succeeded in escaping the morality of medicine, having once been the leading surgeon in the separation of conjoined twins, before performing his experiment of sewing three people together to work as one unit."

The Receptionist quickly pulls the paper away before you can read anymore. "If you know him, you know him. Anyways... Dr. Heiter is someone a mad doctor either loves, or, more commonly, despises. His experiment is often seen as too vile and disturbing for even the most strong-willed of deranged minds. However, there are also those who admire his willingness to do whatever the hell he wants, by any means necessary." They look over the paper, continuing "So, once word of this request got out, the entirety of the club went absolutely apeshit. The Medic, you know, the one dressed in red gloves, was absolutely ecstatic to hear that Dr. Heiter might be invited. Dr. Maruki and Dr. Frankenstein, on the other hand, have been scared shitless - no pun intended."

The Receptionist then stands, placing the paper back where it belongs "It seems like The Medic, Dr. Randolph, and Dr. Wolfram are pretty excited about the possibility of Dr. Heiter joining the club. Dr. Frankenstein hates the idea, seeing it as something that might interfere with his own work of sewing dead body parts together to form new life. He once told me "The idea that a man would sew three people together in such a crude, disgusting manner sickens me to my core. What if people begin to see my work in such a vile light? It would taint the purpose of my work to be associated with the likes of him!" Dr. Maruki is just scared that he would fall victim to Dr. Heiter's experiments. I heard that Dr. Clef is actually the only person who doesn't seem to care, either way. According to The Medic, Dr. Clef just said "As long as I am not in the middle, I don't give a shit. Pun intended.", in response to the news of him possibly joining the club."

The Receptionist turns back to you, a weary smile on their face. "Unless you are Dr. Clef, you either despise the idea of Dr. Heiter joining the club, or are excited at the... well, the idea of seeing such a deranged lunatic in his element. Me? I don't care... I'm just here to keep things running and do the paperwork. This fighting is getting out of hand, though... I've never seen Dr. Maruki try to claw someone's eyes out in fear before now, but it was quite a sight! This paper probably caused the most physical, VIOLENT fights I have seen in this club, yet! It even got Dr. Maruki to pick up a scalpel... holy shit."

They look back and forth, only to quickly lean in and whisper "Between you and me... He's probably going to be let in. The higher-ups have no morality when it comes to who can join the club. The only reasons why I haven't told the others are because A. I haven't gotten a clear answer, yet, and B. I'm 100% certain that the knowledge of Dr. Heiter joining this club would cause an ACTUAL war in this building. I'm just waiting for the moment that one of these doctors actually gets killed... All over the morality of making a human centipede. Which, to be fair, I think is fucking disgusting-"

[persistentplums]

Maybe I have Sydney brainrot so strong but the idea that Syd is a fangirl, or like easily into Carmy feels so bad to me. She’s a woman in a field where talking to people like they’re shit is normalized by older chefs, where yelling is okay, and it’s toxic as hell. Idk I feel like she respects Carmy but she looks at him coming to Chicago/The Beef as an opportunity. Also she kinda sees him as Every other Asshole she had to work for when she talks to Marcus. But I’ll get back to that.

Like think abt it, she probably knows ppl (school gc, friends from school or work) who if they heard Carmen Berzatto is in your area, yes the guy who has awards and is known world wide ppl would be running to get an opportunity to start something with him. It’s a play, and Sydney sees it but also it’s *her* city. Like Richie she knows her city, and knows what it’s like to see ppl come in to just get successful without keeping the culture intact. Fuck em, she’ll get there first and keep it true to what it is in its core.

She has been to The Beef, maybe not as often as she claimed but it’s true. What she probably didn’t say is how she failed at her own business and wants to be somewhere that could work. And with his name how can it not? He knows what he’s doing right?

Cue the mess of the show, but she respects him. It’s that level of okay you’re trying something, I’ll do it. She even says to him this won’t work if you don’t listen and work with me. But when she leaves and eats with Marcus she doesn’t even think he would apologize. Just do that nod thing or vaguely acknowledge a wrong. It’s why that scene when Marcus comes back and Carmy apologizes is so important. Sydney isn’t a fangirl but she is someone who only knows Carmy through magazines and papers. she knows he’s a great chef, but she’s met tons of great chefs, the only reason Carmy stands out to her is bc of that time in New York. Through his food she went “yeah this is what I want to give ppl”.

Basically what I’m getting at is, everyone in their passion have someone that inspires them the most but because of multiple things you realize you are still vastly different people with different personalities and life and struggles. Sydney isn’t soft she’s still a black woman who had to pay her way through CIA, who didn’t grow up eating at all these nice places so she had to work for her money and then pay for it. Who’s been disrespected and yelled at like all other chefs, she isn’t green she is flawed. And she sure as hell isn’t a blushing at Carmy who in her eyes is like every other chef, but the last episode changes that.

Sydney Adamu is tired, and has been waiting so long to become the chef she KNOWS she is. She ain’t a fangirl, she’s been put in a box not allowed to get out so her impatience is evident. She’s hungry, the type a newbie is because her passion never went out. It’s why her failed catering haunts her it’s proof the people in her life was right. But in the end, when Carmy is standing in cans of tomatoes and talks about the layout of family it clicks. oh he’s the one that sees her, and she sees him more as a person. The last episode is the moment it hits her, Carmy isn’t like the other chefs in her life, now this is the real deal.

So I beg pls stop writing her as Carmy blushing love interest when tbr Carmy is the one in that spot. Because Sydney will put her feelings in a box and put it on a shelf and keep it moving, Carmy though? He will put his feelings in a box, then trip over it, look at it mortified, try to kick the feelings back in with mild success. He would fall for her first, and she would just not open hers until they stopped working together. Or if something else happened.

[rolansrighthorn]

Get To Know Your Tav

Tagged by @voloslobotomyservice I won't tag anyone since I already did in the other post but if you see this and want to do it, consider yourself tagged!

Link to my first post here.

I have two I would like to introduce but tumblr's text limit is forcing me to do two seperate posts, and this is the second one. This post is dedicated to my OC, Willow Hvithrafn, she is in her late 20s and is a white high half elf with dove white hair and hazel eyes with gold flecks. I am still debating if she will have freckles/sunspots.

I have NOT published ANY chapters of Tender For You so all of this information will contain spoilers!

What is their:

Favorite weapon? Willow has a Starlight Glaive (akin to the Moonlight Glaive) that she saved her own money since she was a child to have made specially by a local high elf. The high elf was a priestess of Lathander and wanted to create the Sunlight Glaive for Willow, but Willow is half Moon Elf and felt more connected to the stars.

Style of combat? Willow is a Vengeance Oath Paladin and loves any situation in which she can smite an opponent with her Starlight Glaive.

Most prized possession? Her Starlight Glaive is her most prized possession for sure. Her second would be a little gem she found when she was out scouting with Geraldus (she gave him one as well).

Deepest desire? I think she has two. The first being she wants nothing more than to help keep balance in the world and to protect those who cannot protect themselves. She also wishes for a very long and happy life with Geraldus once she accepts her feelings towards him.

Guilty pleasure? Even if she's had enough food, she loves when Geraldus comes up to her lookout and shares berries with her he foraged. She is a glutton not for food, but for any amount of interaction and attention from Geraldus.

Best-kept secret? Willow has largely convinced the mass majority of those around her that she is an eternally crabby, heartless, uncaring creature despite having joining the Harpers for the greater good. There are only a handful of people who see through this, and even less who give her any effort of friendship.

Greatest strength? Her greatest strength is her righteousness/sense of justice. If there is any enemy she is focused wholly on eliminating them- unless Geraldus is in direct way of harm.

Fatal flaw? This is a great question to ask right after the above because Geraldus is her biggest weakness. She had no idea she could ever want or love someone and when out together she is always too focused on his safety, which creates weaknesses in her group's formation and puts not only her life at risk but everyone else's as well.

Favorite scent? Willow loves the scent of the pine forests and rain, which remind her of Geraldus. His musk is also a scent she loves.

Favorite spell/cantrip? She actually hates using magic aside from her Smiting spells.

Pet peeve? Other people just existing. She wants to protect the world, but finds the world wholly obnoxious and frustrating to exist in.

Bad habit? Willow is quick to anger and quick to run away from any confrontation or problem outside of direct combat (ie with teammates, friends, family, etc)

Hidden talent? One night she and Geraldus discover she is quite good at playing the Lute.

Leisure activity? Willow loves laying at her lookout with Geraldus, watching the sun set and subsequently watching the stars twinkle and move across the night sky.

Favorite drink? She isn't much of a drinker of anything aside from water- she isn't a fan of hangovers or the dryness in your mouth alcohol leaves.

Comfort food? She isn't enough of a fan of food to really have a comfort food, but she really enjoys eating beef.

Favorite person(s)? Willow dislikes everyone by default. Her two favorite people are Geraldus and the Dragonborn Paladin she befriends, Kava.

Favored display of affection? She is not a very sexual or open person. Most of the time when she shows affection it is in the form of hooking her pinky with Gerladus' pinky or just holding his hand.

Fondest childhood memory? Willow's childhood holds very little she would want to even remember, but there is too much pain linked with her past for her to consider anything as "fond" or positive.

Anything else you’d like to share? Willow will only ever let Geraldus all the way in to her heart. He will be the only one to ever see her for who she truly is underneath all the fear and hurt, and he loves her as she is. Once they get together he will be the single most important thing in her life, even being a Harper comes second to being Geraldus' protector and lover.

[seraphim-soulmate]

man idk why my roommate telling me to take up less space is getting to me so much. like it feels like a bomb has been set off in my chest and im just running on trauma response. I mean I guess I did get threatened with physical violence last month from a previous roommate who seemingly hated me for reasons I could not understand and now this other roommate that has beef with me is using some of the same rhetoric that this previous roommate was.

he's decided to go on a crusade against the fact that I have extra furniture that I brought in, before he was in this colocation, to store my things, as agreed upon with the roommates that were there at the time bcs the existing space we had wasn't enough- and I needed my things physically accessible to me. But anything he says, he says it as if he's speaking for the entire colocation. Which he isn't. The rest of the roommates share that they don't share his beliefs behind closed doors to me privately, but won't actually stand up for me when he's saying shit in the group chat or in-person.

And it's scary because explaining my disability to him isn't going to change anything, he wants more space, he wants my space, and nothing I can say to him will make him change his mind. He's set himself up as defender of everyone else in the coloc and characterized me as this selfish asshole who's unwilling to listen to reason. And actually, I can't understand his reasoning or his logic firstly, because he's being confrontational so my brain is shutting down while he continues speaking and while I try to decipher what he's trying to say and secondly, because what he's saying doesn't make sense to me and no one else agrees with him! Because what he's saying, isn't actually what he means. He's saying "we should all have equal space" and what he means is "I need more space for my things". And I'm scared of trying new things- I'm scared of being IMPOSED new things!! That also requires that I have to rethink how I can reorganize things in a way that would be accessible to me.

Idk if it's a fear that everyone would have, of being told you're taking up too much space and have to find a way to reorganize your things? but being disabled makes things so hard. eating is so hard. buying food and cooking is so hard. doing my dishes means I have to go lay down for 30 minutes afterwards bcs the pain is so bad. The idea of making things less accessible to me is terrifying, because I then won't have energy for the other, much more important things I need to do anyways. I have to save up my spoons and so I've set my food up in a way that maximizes spoon retention. Since he isn't disabled, he doesn't know what I go through on the daily, so his suggestions aren't adapted to my needs. And he doesn't understand that I'm not going to make my life harder just because he isn't willing to find another solution to fit his fucking pans into the common space.

He keeps going on about having "equal spaces" but the cabinet spaces in the kitchen AREN'T EQUAL. making it literally impossible for us to be sharing equal spaces. And in any case, it's just a pretense for his own needs- that he wants more space. And I don't fucking get it, there is space in the kitchen that he can use and that IS accessible to him?? I've PROPOSED solutions to him that he just keeps turning down without having any actual justification for!

[jericho-goat]

im content enough to down the drink now

Your bartender hands you the drink. The fragrance from the layered cocktail is bright and fruity, yet masking the unmistakable aroma of whiskey. It also seems imbued with a certain energy. More interwoven with the fabric of the universe. You take your first sip.

Where the previous times you tried to eat anything at this buffet, you only felt hungrier and colder afterwards, now you feel a little warmer. An existential blush that you feel primarily in your cheeks and your goatly extremities. And, just a little tipsy, you begin to notice that this whole buffet is bustling with activity, both corporeal and non.

"Go on, keep going," the bartender cajoles. You take another sip.

In a metaphysical sense, you come to understand you have joined your bartender's party. That her name is Ancho, and that she is not the same type of entity you are. You wonder if this was a bad idea. Before you can pursue that particular rabbit, she SPEAKS a command.

"JERICHO, use TOKYO SOUR"

All at once, your thoughts cease to be your own. Memories scream past you, memories not only of your short previous life, but of every life you've led. Of golden sunrises and moonlit reveries, hard labor and endless leisure, of war, famine, disease. Memories you would like to spend a moment's reflection on, if only to get a sense of your place in the world.

But Ancho's SPOKEN command overrides your will. You try to hold the most concrete memory in your mind's eye, the memory of your last death. But without your permission, your body takes another sip of the cocktail.

Bit by bit, the details of the scene fade. The hooded figures at the edges of the room blur and become indistiguishable from the shadows that flicker in the candlelight. As if drunk, the room spins and falls away. The last thing you can hold on to is the instinctual half sensation of Dog teeth charging you, death and pain overwhelming you. And then that too is gone.

In its place, a bright whirlwind. You are in the Veil, the realm of the dead that hangs over perceptable reality. Your particular locality is Las Vegas, the infamous city of sin. Before you stands your party leader, Ancho, a Demon, as you've come to realize.

All around you, other entities mill about. Some have human forms, yet pass, grey and insubstantial, through the furniture, as if following a habitual path too well worn to be slowed down by the caprices of the living. Some, monstrous or animalistic, eye you curiously from tables near the buffet. A few humanoid forms, similar in appearance to Ancho, serve from the buffet. And, a minority among the Ghosts, Spirits, and Demons, a handful of living Humans eat their breakfast, apparently unaware of any of the supernatural activity happening in their vicinity.

"We're running out of time. JERICHO, us-"

A glowing white figure materializes with a glowing bang. Ancho is knocked away, falling against the chair you tried to start a beef with a few minutes ago. You are pushed back, but manage to retain your footing.

"Let's get this party jumpin'!"

He summons a shining white baseball bat in his left hand.

COMBAT ENGAGED: LAS VEGAS JESUS lv 112

WHAT DO YOU DO?

-

23.09.25 - 009-012

Jericho Goat is an interactive webcomic. Sumbit actions via asks to this blog

[dandelionlovesyou]

What do you think happened at those Career District Academy?

How do they volunteer being in the life/death games?

Do you think this is parallel in real life?

Thank you,

@curiousnonny

Hi @curiousnonny,

I got a few lines again. I have a bit of time this week, and I'm super excited to be writing and answering your question.

1. I've always thought that there was an academy of some sort, but then maybe it's not a huge academy. Maybe something like a summer camp-size organization? They don't get many "students" to train. Perhaps there were scouts all over the career district who would select kids to be trained. Kind of like in sports. They have a checklist and probably run genetic testing to select the best child.

The exceptions are the kids from the wealthier districts, the volunteers, the ones who have been fed and trained throughout their lives for this moment. The tributes from 1, 2, and 4 traditionally have this look about them. It’s technically against the rules to train tributes before they reach the Capitol but it happens every year. In District 12, we call them the Career Tributes, or just the Careers. And like as not, the winner will be one of them.

2. They’re trained and brainwashed from a young age. They think they’re superior and better. And that being a tribute was a great honor. They probably have regular schooling (twisted Panem history, philosophy, science, maths) but half their curriculum is about fighting and improving their skills and bodies.

The Career Tributes tend to gather rowdily around one table, as if to prove their superiority, that they have no fear of one another and consider the rest of us beneath notice.

3. Their nutrition is carefully monitored. Like the science of nutrition in D13 but better -- more on beefing up the tributes rather than just sustaining their bodies to do a specific kind of work.

Career tributes are overly vicious, arrogant, better fed, but only because they’re the Capitol’s lapdogs. Universally, solidly hated by all but those from their own districts.

4. They get trained to fight using different weapons and to be vicious. They also get tactical training so they know how to form alliances and utilize the skills of others. In the 74th Games, they got the boy with a limp from D3 to fortify their supplies with the explosives from the pedestal. They accepted Peeta to find Katniss, and they tried to recruit Thresh for his size and strength. The Careers know well enough that winning will require an alliance. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

“Come on,” says Cato. He thrusts a spear into the hands of the boy from District 3, and they head off in the direction of the fire. The last thing I hear as they enter the woods is Cato saying, “When we find her, I kill her in my own way, and no one interferes.”

5. They don’t get enough survival training. They’d starve to death as Katniss thought if they didn’t have a hold of the food from the cornucopia or from sponsors. They can’t take hunger and thirst very much because they’ve never been hungry for real or for extended periods. In the years that the Career supplies were gone, tributes from other districts won!

Besides, I’m distracted by my latest idea about the Careers and their supplies. Somehow Rue and I must find a way to destroy their food. I’m pretty sure feeding themselves will be a tremendous struggle. Traditionally, the Career tributes’ strategy is to get hold of all the food early on and work from there. The years when they have not protected it well — one year a pack of hideous reptiles destroyed it, another a Gamemakers’ flood washed it away — those are usually the years that tributes from other districts have won. That the Careers have been better fed growing up is actually to their disadvantage, because they don’t know how to be hungry. Not the way Rue and I do.

6. They’re smart but others can be smarter. Foxface, Beetee, Wiress, Johanna, Haymitch, Peeta, Katniss, etc. I think because they’ve been trained since they were young, their instincts are very weak. They can’t think outside the box and always play within the rules of the game. They’ve “mastered” the game, I suppose, and for the most part, it helps them win. Most victors are from D1, 2, and 4.

No, it’s Foxface, standing in the rubble of the pyramid and laughing. She’s smarter than the Careers, actually finding a few useful items in the ashes. A metal pot. A knife blade. I’m perplexed by her amusement until I realize that with the Careers’ stores eliminated, she might actually stand a chance. Just like the rest of us.

Overall, I feel bad for the Careers. They’re manipulated at a young age and brainwashed to think that it’s an honor to be a tribute. To volunteer in a game where you kill people is radical thinking, and I’m sure there are many parallels in real life. It may not be about killing others, sacrificing your life for the “greater good,” or thinking that you are above others, but I think we are brainwashed or conditioned to a certain degree by bigger and more powerful people/ groups/ companies. Suzanne Collins is brilliant in incorporating these social issues in her books!

Thanks for the ask @curiousnonny!

[shakysniffles]

just updated my pinned post to include OC info but since I just spent the last hour or so writing it up, they deserve their own post too!

Note that no-one has names yet xD If you have ideas though feel free to drop me a line <3 I keep the universes pretty loose so although you can probably see three clear-cut stories / worlds, they do overlap however I see fit.

🌺 - [she/her] high class spy who appears very gentle but hiding a steel resolve. Snzfckr, very in love with her partners 💛 and 🖤. Has a rather strong sensitivity to dust and owns an adorable puppy <3 Has some slight dom tendencies and really enjoys watching people putting on a bit of a show while holding off on her own pleasure and edging for as long as she can.

🖤 - [she/they] another spy, met 🌺 on a mission and decided to switch sides and is now a double agent. Isn’t often around as a result :( also a snzfckr and discovered this in a snzing while hiding scenario, but isn’t yet ready to explore it much :) Clams up at people telling her what to do and finds it very difficult to relinquish any kind of control or be vulnerable in front of others due to years of only being able to rely on herself but 💛 and 🌺 slowly earn her trust and are very sweet and patient while they wait for her to be ready.

💛 - [they/them] ray of sunshine <333 Has a wonderfully sneezy pollen allergy, which extends to floral perfumes, and very eager to please 🌺 and 🖤 and will happily induce for them. Sneezes are very drippy and spray all over and constantly borrowing tissues or handkerchiefs because he likes how flustered it makes 🌺 and 🖤. They’re just being a shit on purpose, they’ve never been ill prepared despite their laidback attitude in their life, but they LOVE to tease by asking for snzy supplies.

💚 - [he/him] He gets all the himbo tags not bc he’s dumb (he’s not!!) but his brain stops working when he’s sneezy and he comes over all bashful and clumsy and his sneezes sneak up on him so fast that he gets rather sloppy with his covering. He’s absolutely mortified by the whole affair and is very apologetic and interrupts his apology with yet more sneezes. Very messy and snotty and LOUD, his sneezes are a whole spectacle and a half. He doesn’t have any allergies, he’s just prone to head colds. He’s also really artsy - loves to paint and play music and is very generous and shares everything with his friends and family :) I sometimes ship him with 💖

🧡 - [he/they] snzfckr, scientist, lonely heart. lives with an android he built himself (💿) and they get up to some wild times together. He’s pretty clumsy but when he’s sick he plays it up bc they’re super fucked up and there’s nothing they like better than spreading those viral particles far and wide and he really really gets off on it. They also get turned on by their own sneezes and if he’s being honestly, he loves being all gross and disgusting and sneezing openly and spraying over everything. However this is all very much only in his own home, they do take their work super seriously and have a minor mental block with regards to sneezing in public so when he loses control at a conference it’s the absolute worst thing that could have happened and in the aftermath he runs into 💖 and they get together soon after <3

💖 - [he/him] another scientist but much shyer than 🧡 He really enjoys letting people take the reins in a relationship and He’s so polite like literally the nicest guy ever and at first 💿 has beef with him for “taking over” and tries to torture him with allergens but this only revealed that he’s also a snzfckr (just much more mild in manner) and at first he was super embarrassed at being found out bc he thought 💿 had gone snooping but the misunderstanding was soon cleared up and the happily sneezing household now gets along swell :D Sometimes I ship him with 💚 bc I like the art / science contrast <3

💿 - [she/it] the most sadistic lil android you never knew. Not technically a snzfckr but she was programmed and built by 🧡 to help him and it interpreted that to include helping him get off so it’s really just an extension of their desires. but it has an AI brain so it’s developed and evolved beyond that and now enjoys torturing both 🧡 and 💖 and frankly anyone foolish enough to ignore warnings about being left alone with her....

💙 - [he/him] obligatory businessman always down for an office fuck :P Son of the CEO, is actually genuinely good at his job, garners a lot of respect, and is set to become the big boss some day... if he can stop sleeping around the office lmaoooo... was put onto snzfckery by a secretary he slept with while he had a brutal cold and he has a bit of a praise kink so it all meshed rather well and he’s more than happy to keep exploring snz kink further. Bit of a workaholic and frequently shows up to work while atrociously unwell and his brother will come out and drag him home. He has some awful allergies too but swears up and down that they don’t affect his work - meanwhile the entire teams’ getting a free shower while he tries to present because he’s pretty damn useless at stifling

🔘 - [he/him] ngl he’s just a dilf and frankly i’m embarrassed about him <3 amalgamation of every old man I find attractive and he gets tagged when I get the vibe lmaooo. technically 💙‘s CEO dad but I try not to think to hard about that part bc 😳😳😳

🧡 and 💿

[brendamariesmith]

My Heart-Warming Thanksgiving Story of the Flubbed-Up Pie

I want to tell you about the flubbed-up Thanksgiving pie I made. First you should know that “flubbed-up” is a substitute for my grandchildren’s sake of another term that means messed-up and also starts with an F.

My son, JD, is a stalwart eco-warrior who’s a mechanic providing biodegradable motor oil and other green automotive stuff to his customers. He keeps the family cars running for only the price of parts. He is sweet and generous and I love him like the dickens, whatever exactly that means.

JD is a vegan, and not just your ordinary vegan, but a vegan who will spend his last dime to eat only organic food that has not been contaminated by pesticides, herbicides, or even by suicides or fratricides committed by a person in the extended family or ancestry of anyone who ever touched or thought about touching his food. If this food sat across from, and at the opposite end of, a long aisle from a side of beef in the grocery store, JD will not eat it. If I’m in a bad mood, as I sometimes am, trying to cook for JD is enough to make me want to commit some kind of “-cide” against this son I love so much.

We have Thanksgiving every year in November, right? And JD has been into his organic, anti-GMO, locally-grown vegan thing for a number of recent years. One would think by now I’d have figured out that I need to plan Thanksgiving with JD in July, maybe March. But, true to form, this particular year, I waited until a couple of weeks before JD’s big turkey-less, Tofurkey Day to discuss what I should cook that he might consider eating if I tweak my nose in the right direction.

I’m getting old. I have little patience for complicated Thanksgiving dinners that involve special dishes for each particular person in this ever-expanding family. I mean, I love these people more than my own life, but I have reached my limit. I need to make Thanksgiving infinitely less complicated. Between our various food intolerances, adamant ideals, outright dislikes, and other peccadillos, there is very little food on Earth that I and my trooper of a husband, Doug – who is also getting old, but who seems to be handling it much better than I am – can cook for this passel of people to share.

My idea for this year is to make as much vegan-organic food as possible and for everyone to share it, so that I don’t have to make a regular option and a vegan-organic option of every dish. Sounds reasonable enough. I mean this idea is great if you have an infinite supply of time to figure it out and scads of money to pay through the nose for organic components of our family’s traditional dishes.

I’m about to tell you about the flubbed-up pie. I promise.

This year JD and I go painstakingly through what he’ll need to scrounge up from the mysterious places he buys organic wonder food. He has no earthly idea of the sizes available for these components or the prices for anything at all, especially for each unit. So first I give him a list of things to price, to get sizes for – the number of fluid ounces, how many cherries per can of organic pie filling, how many organic whole-wheat rolls per pan and the square footage of each pan – so JD can buy what I need to cook for an army of people to eat Thanksgiving Day, to send everyone home with leftovers, to eat leftovers and nothing else for a week, and to throw out leftovers at the end of said week while being sure to have plenty to share with the compost pile.

There are certain things I’ll be cooking knowing full well that JD won’t eat them – turkey, for instance, celery (JD is a vegan who hates celery. I have nothing to add to this). Since I have JD occupied buying organic food for everyone, I assign the vegan entrée to my son Aaron, because he’s a vegetarian anyway and he can damned well be a vegan for one day so that he and his brother can share an entrée.

We will have dressing with chicken stock in it and vegan dressing, that kind of thing. Then, for the sake of at least some simplicity, we’ll have a few totally vegan organic dishes for everyone – sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole (yes, this can be organic-vegan if you’re patient enough), rolls.

Then there will be pies. Pies are my holiday thing. When I was younger, I made two or three kinds of pie with several per type for both Thanksgiving AND Christmas. Now I’m a one type of pie per holiday person. I want the pies to be cherry for this holiday, because cherry pies are easy to make. The grandkids are crazy for cherries, and they are who I’m most interested in pleasing.

I should add that this year my hubby Doug has to work on Thanksgiving. It will be my first time to cook Thanksgiving dinner without him in twenty-three years. Not to worry. I’ve enlisted my stepson Matt to help lift, stir, and toast things and juggle the moving of things from one oven rack to another all day long. We’ve got this, me and Matt. Doug teaches Matt how to prep the turkey the night before, and it’s ready in the fridge so that Matt just has to stick it into the oven on TG morning and leave it there for hours while we cook other stuff.

Back to the pies. JD has informed me that, of all foods that exist in the universe, the worst foods to eat if they are NOT organic are cherries and berries, because the pesticides, herbicides, and other kinds of “-cides” concentrate in the cherries and berries in an attempt to murder us – just kill us outright dead.

Even though JD has always lapped up cherry pies in the past, even after he went vegan-organic, this year he will not eat them unless the cherries are organic. Not only that, he wants organic vegan crusts as well. All right. I can do this.

But JD cannot find organic cherries at his favorite haunts. We agree that I’ll make a couple of organic peach pies for him with regular cherry for the rest of us – because we are addicted to pesticide-riddled food and we don’t give a flip anymore. I feel a little guilty about this on account of grandchildren. I don’t want to feed poison cherries to children. They can eat peach pie, although I know they love cherry most.

As Thanksgiving draws nearer, I make a list out of the scraps of information JD has obtained, telling him how many cans, pans, cases, and barrels of each food I need. I tell him I simply cannot afford all this organic sh— “stuff” (I’m just going to call this “shtuff”), and JD kindly offers to pay the difference in the extra price of organic items over the price of poisonous All-American food. I tell JD that this grocery store where he plans to shop is growing faster than they can keep up with, and chances are good the store will run out of TG food many days before the big event.

Undaunted, JD waits until the last possible minute to buy the food and only then after I insist that he get his vegan behind to the store, like NOW, or I won’t be cooking one single damned organic or vegan anything for him or anyone else. I mean we have to get the other groceries for TG when we’re not working, and this is the last day we have time for that. I have no idea what to buy in terms of other groceries until I see what JD can procure at the health food store after it’s been cleared out by more forward-thinking customers. I may not have mentioned that JD is not a planning type of organic-vegan.

I won’t say, “I told you so,” but I will mention, because I am passive-aggressive sometimes, that JD’s favorite grocery store has no organic fruit pie filling of any sort whatsoever. All he’s managed to buy in terms of pie filling are two cans of organic peaches, which is only distantly related to pie filling. JD does have two sets of organic pie crusts. Okay, fine. We’ll have one peach pie then, and we’ll use the other organic crusts for non-organic cherry pie.

Meanwhile, the hubby goes to the regular grocery store for toxic cherry pie filling amongst many other things, and doesn’t realize until he returns home that he’s bought only two cans of regular cherry pie filling and three cans of organic. So, the regular grocery store had the filling JD couldn’t find at his organic vegan store, and Doug has accidentally purchased it. Man. The kismet of this, the ass-backwards synchronicity of it, is stunning.

Trying to rally, I say, “Great. I’ll use these other organic pie shells – the ones I won’t be using for peach pie – to make an organic cherry pie.” It seems like our pie problems are solved. Except on the night I start making pies in advance of TG Day like I always do, I run out of time to make cherry pies while also boiling down canned peaches for hours on end.

When JD comes home later (Did I mention he lives with us “temporarily”? Do not get me started about the gnat problem he’s caused with organic food rotting in his bedroom), I ask him to please boil down the peaches. I’ll be around doing other important shtuff, and I’ll advise him as he works. He doesn’t have time, he says. He has tons of work to do this week, he says, because in his mind I don’t have anything to do this week except to make his freaking pie.

Suggesting that JD cook the peaches, like now, while he’s hanging out grazing on food he’s spread across the living room and watching TV (and murderous TV, not any kind of flower-childy organic vegan TV) has no effect on JD whatsoever. I might as well not exist.

All right, either I’ll make the danged peach pie tomorrow or I won’t. I’ve got an organic cherry pie made already. It’s even got a crisscrossed top crust so it can be easily distinguished from the deadlier cherry pies. Whatever.

Now it’s Wednesday evening before the big day. Doug has to get up on TG morning at 3:30-ish, long before oh-dark-thirty, so that he can work while the rest of America watches football and parades. Doug will be going to bed at 8:00 p.m. this evening or as soon thereafter as he can get there. I ask Doug to please open JD’s canned peaches for me, because the can-opener and I have issues, and JD is nowhere to be found, no doubt staying out as late as possible to avoid helping me make his bleeping pie.

Doug opens the two peach cans, and there are like eight or nine tiny peach slices in each can. They are basically cans of peach juice with a few scraps of peach. I seriously doubt there are even two small peaches between both cans. This peach pie is going to be scanty on the peach side. But I am making this pie come hell or high water, so I drain off the juice except a little dab, saving the juice for JD because I’m such a good mother of a busy forty-year-old organic-vegan with important shtuff to do elsewhere tonight. I plop the pot containing a few teaspoons of peaches onto a low fire on the stovetop.

It takes almost no time for the little juice in the pot to boil off. I’ve got a half-ton of peach juice here, so I add a little more to the pot – we’re talking a quarter cup at most. I look away from the pot for a minute or two, and the pot’s suddenly overloaded with peach juice – like way too overloaded because apparently these few scraps of peaches, scrawny as they are, have about a gallon of peach juice in each of them and this juice is cooking out of those peaches at an alarming rate. Oh man. All right I’ll just have to boil these peaches for a very long time. Maybe they’ll be ready by next Thanksgiving.

But the peach juice is not cooking away. This pot is full of peach cider with some peach slices for a garnish. If I were a smart woman, which I am not at this moment, I would drain some peach juice off right this instant. But do I? What do you think? Instead I decide, with Doug’s help, that I should add this organic sugar JD has provided, in the hope the sugar will contribute to the thickening and cooking down of this mass quantity of boiling peach juice.

The peach pot is boiling. Doug makes grilled cheese sandwiches because who’s got time for making dinner, much less eating it, when it’s the night before Thanksgiving? I’m in Doug’s way trying to watch this peach pot, so I hover outside the kitchen and dash in from time to time to check the peach syrup mess. We eat sandwiches. Doug goes to bed, but before he goes we decide there may be hope for these peaches after all as the organic-sugary peach juice appears to be slightly thicker.

I keep watching the peach pot. I do other shtuff and come back and watch it some more. My office is in a converted garage off the kitchen, and I need to do some shtuff out there. I adjust the fire lower and go to the garage office for ten minutes – it can’t be one second more than twelve minutes. Suddenly I think, uh-oh, peaches! I run into the kitchen to greet a foamy pot of peach goo that is partially burnt. But do I handle this sensibly? Of course not. Before I have thought a single thought, I have stirred this pot of peach goop enough to spread some burnt shtuff throughout the pot. I’ve contaminated this alleged peach pie filling. I wonder how toxic this burned shtuff is, but I simply don’t care anymore.

There has got to be something salvageable here, because I want this to be true and am proceeding as though it is. While the peach goop cools into some sort of peach fudge or taffy or peach peanut brittle without peanuts, I patiently poke holes in an organic pie shell and set it to pre-bake while I make a crumble pie topping out of the other shell by adding more of JD’s organic sugar and organic cinnamon, too. I’m determined for this shtuff to be good, damned good.

I go away for like five minutes and come back to discover that the pre-baking shell is a convex mound of inflated crust. There’s a Super Dome all up in my oven. Evidently the holes I’ve poked in this shell are not sufficiently doing their job. I reach into the dangerously hot oven with a fork and poke bigger holes until the shell deflates. I tamp down the edges until the shell no longer resembles a flying saucer.

By now the peach goop in the pot looks pitifully small and brown. It seems kind of stretchy, definitely gloppy. But it’s made of lovely organic peach slices – however few of them are left – plus organic sugar. How bad could it be? It will be a super-organic peach candy pie that’s only a tiny bit burnt.

I slap the peach goop into the pie shell. It doesn’t even cover the whole bottom of the shell. I scrape every drop of syrupy goop into the shell, any goop that’s not too shtuck to require a hammer and chisel to get it out of this blankety-blank pot. Even though the peach pie innards are only about an inch thick and sparse – extremely sparse – I throw on the crumble topping, and spread it to cover the filling – which is easy-peasy since there are so few peaches to cover. I stick this concoction into the oven, set the timer and disappear to my office, stage left.

I’m playing a computer game, tweeting, and other shtuff in the office when I realize that a beeping noise I’ve been managing to subconsciously ignore must be coming from the kitchen timer. I rush into the kitchen, throw open the oven door, grab some pot holders, and pull out an overly baked peach pie that is too brown. But it is not burnt. It is NOT freaking burnt!

This is fine. This is totally and completely fine. I will serve flubbed-up, organic, much too brown, overly sweet, nearly peachless, candified peach pie for Thanksgiving dinner and nobody, I mean nobody, especially JD, better say a mother-flubbing word about it.

I leave this thing I’ve created to cool and return to noodling in my office. JD at last comes home. He has his grazing palate of munchie-type organic vegan food spread across the coffee table in front of the television when I finally come back inside. I sit down and tell JD the story of the flubbed-up pie, and I am not saying flubbed, I promise you that. JD and I start laughing, and we keep laughing. We’re trying to be quiet because Doug’s upstairs above us trying to sleep – I mean the poor man has to get up at 3:30 on flubbing Thanksgiving morning to go to flubbing work.

But trying hard not to laugh too loudly just makes JD and I laugh more and harder. Come on. This is hilarious. We concoct delirious stories of what the insides of the so-called pie might look like now that it’s cooled – how far will it stretch? Will it be fudgy or so hard that we break teeth on it? We are doubled-over crying and laughing and shushing each other to laugh quieter.

Finally we run out of steam, and I head back out to my office. I am an extreme night-owl. I make no apologies for this because they would not stop me from being one. JD has inherited this annoying trait from me, and I’m a little sorry for him about that.

Before I leave JD so he can keep binging on food and his murderous TV show, I ask him to please cover the pie with decidedly un-organic tin foil and stick it in the fridge before he goes to bed. I’ve got a heartwarming Thanksgiving story to write, and I have no more time for taking care of this so-called pie.

I am out here writing for way too long because, as everyone who knows me at all understands, I am wordy. I realize it’s 3:00 a.m., which is too late even for me. Doug will be getting up any second. I have to get inside and pretend to be sleeping before he stumbles past me to get coffee so he can get ready for flubbing work. I abandon this unfinished story and make haste to pretend to sleep.

But Doug, because this is already a flubbed-up Thanksgiving, has forgotten to make coffee and set the timer. He’s banging around in the kitchen half-asleep, and I give up on this pretending to sleep idea and give Doug lots of sympathy for his coffee-less predicament. He laps this sympathy up.

Doug schlepps off to work, I sleep for a little while, then I get up to finish this never-ending Thanksgiving tale. Now it’s a little past time to start the turkey baking, Matt has just pulled up to help me, and I’m still in my PJ’s, having completely forgotten to drink my coffee. This is already a flubbed-up flubbing Thanksgiving. I have more flubbing shtuff to bake and burn and destroy. I’ve got to get moving.