#water sales went up soda sales went down

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

book on habits told me putting good things in clear view encourages you to engage and form good habits

and putting bad things away in cupboards and such lessens the chance of you engaging with related bad habits

basically what I’m learning is you might have object permanence but your habits don’t so. hide that shit and the habit will baby mode ITS GONE!

anyway I’m contemplating if hanging my walking shoes from my ceiling is too obvious or if it’ll help me get the hint

[yujo-nishimura]

All the rage

A fauxpax at your job leads to some intimate time with your boss Sir Crocodile and even a promotion...

Warning: gore, blood, violence, smut, Sir Crocodile x female reader (It is not as gory as I intended it to write because I also do not want my readers to be disgusted)

NSFW - minors do not interact

words: 1932

I am tagging @lostfirefly since she has explicitly asked for it and she will understand the background of the story.. ;)

What began as a promising career path quickly transformed into a daily grind filled with frustration. Your boss had placed you on the front lines of sales, fully aware that it was your charm and physical appearance that kept customers engaged, rather than the actual product you were selling. Initially, the attention may have been enjoyable, but it rapidly developed into an arduous routine of forcing a smile and feigning interest in even the most absurd customer requests.

In addition to your job-related frustrations, you hated the commute, enduring endless waits for public transportation alongside the empty expressions of fellow passengers. To make things even more difficult, you had developed romantic feelings for your boss, Mr. Crocodile, who failed to provide the attention you yearned for. Nevertheless, he remained the sole reason you clung to the job, at least for a little while longer. 

After enduring yet another exhausting and sweltering morning commute, coupled with three customer calls riddled with complaints, it's no wonder that you finally reached your breaking point.

The client you were scheduled to meet today had already displayed unpleasant behavior over the phone. However, you tried to stay optimistic, believing that people tend to be kinder in person compared to phone or email interactions. As the clock struck 10, the client was still nowhere to be seen, and impatience crept in, knowing your aversion to tardiness. Eventually, he arrived at 10:30, nearly an hour late. Upon entering your office, he offered no apology, opting instead for a shy smile. With his greasy blonde hair, ill-fitting suit, and repulsive demeanor, you took a deep breath and, attempting to maintain your professionalism, offered him a seat and asked if he wanted tea or coffee. To your annoyance, he requested soda water, the one thing you hadn't offered. You reluctantly went to the small fridge in search of anything to satisfy his stupid request.

Upon your return, he sported a sly grin and made inappropriate comments about your appearance as you turned around to face him. For a moment, you contemplated ending the conversation then and there. Not only because of the harassment, but also because he had already exhibited a series of missteps from the start, leading you to believe it would only worsen. However, you reminded yourself that this client had promised substantial purchases, resulting in a significant deal that would not only make you proud but also capture your boss's attention.

As you settled down before the client, you ensured your suit jacket and skirt were impeccably aligned, carefully placing product flyers on the glass coffee table. "So, as we discussed on the phone, this is what we can offer, and we're willing to negotiate a generous discount for bulk purchases," you initiated your customary sales pitch, fully aware that the man was likely not paying attention at all.

"I wasn't aware that they allowed women to work at Cross Guild Corp. as well," he suddenly remarked. 

"Pardon me?" you replied, looking up at him, meeting his watery blue eyes and sly grin once again. 

"I believe men excel in sales and business, but I can see why they placed you on the front line. You're a cute little Missy with a nice little butt. Are they sharing you around here?" 

"Sir...!" you sighed deeply, mustering all your strength to restrain yourself from snapping at him. "At Cross Guild Corp., our team strives to create an inclusive environment that does not discriminate based on gender or sexuality..." you trailed off, realizing that you sounded like a spokesperson for your company's marketing campaign. 

"I actually came here just to find out about your sexuality, girl, since you sounded so nice on the phone!" To your horror, the client stood up, walked around the table, and sat down next to you on the large leather couch. His sly grin remained etched on his face, and you understood that he had no intention of making any purchases. As he forcefully grabbed your hand and pushed it between his legs, you gasped. Your phone lay on the table, and the imposing wooden doors prevented any sound from escaping to alert your colleagues of your distress. Your eyes fell on the letter opener on the table, next to the flyers and paperwork from the morning. 

“I will give you a good tip, so show me - how is your head…!”, he murmured and the grip on your hand got tighter. That was your breaking point. In a split-second decision, you instinctively reached for the letter opener resting on your desk. Its design was reminiscent of the sword once wielded by your chief manager Mihawk, a renowned sword master.

With a swift motion and without any regret you stabbed the small iron blade into the neck of your attacker, making his eyes go wide in disbelief over the blood fountain suddenly gushing out from under his ear. He gargled, trying to cover the wound and hissed “You fucking bitch!” but you had already stood up, trying to get away from the fountain of blood spilling over the leather couch and your black suit and sheer tights.

The guy had finally stopped smiling and you felt a sense of relief. Still heavily breathing you went to your desk trying to grab anything to hold on to. You were still in shock but you also felt like this was the only thing you needed to do today. Your work was done here, time to punch out and go home.

As the client gasped for his final breaths on the couch, a sudden knock at the door startled you. Without hesitation, your boss, Sir Crocodile, made his entrance into the office, dressed impeccably in a sleek black suit, his presence accentuated by the cigar he held. 

"Y/n, I was just coming in to discuss the sales numbers from last month and review our plans for Q3..." he began, but his words trailed off abruptly as his gaze fell upon your pale face, the crimson stains on your hands, and the somber scene that unfolded on the couch before him. 

"Oh..." he remarked, his reaction to a dying person being the one you least expected from all possible responses.

“I…!”, that was all you were able to say, looking in horror at your own hands and the blood stains on the carpet. 

"Did the sales proposal go wrong?" your boss inquired, carefully placing the documents on a nearby shelf to avoid any stains. 

"He... he tried to assault me," you stammered, your voice trembling as you spoke. 

Crocodile approached the lifeless figure and casually lifted his arm before letting it drop back onto the couch with a nonchalant "flop." 

"What a tasteless suit brand. He reeks of cheap whiskey as well... I think you handled the situation very well, dear Y/n!" 

You couldn't believe what you were hearing as your boss praised you. 

"Are you alright, though? It must have been quite a shock for you..." 

With just two swift strides, your boss stood before you, his towering presence simultaneously intimidating and comforting. He gently took hold of your blood-stained hands, inspecting them as though he had stumbled upon a hidden treasure. 

"I'm... I'm fine, I suppose," you whispered, relieved to be able to utter any words at all. 

"How about you take the rest of the day off, my dear?" Crocodile suddenly suggested, causing your heart to race. Did your beloved boss just refer to you as "my dear"?

“I am fine, Sir..!”, you tried to utter and you looked into his dark purple eyes. A rush of adrenaline had run through your body, heightened now by the sensation of Crocodile's warm skin on yours.

He gently raised your hands to his mouth and you gasped in disbelief as he carefully opened his lips, licking over the blood on your fingers.

The tension in the office got unbearable and you suddenly realized that the death of the client and you having killed him had turned Sir Crocodile on. He didn't even ask for your approval, he did not need to hear it, seeing the same fire in your eyes as mirrored in his own was enough proof for him. Without hesitation he quickly grabbed your hips, pushing you up on your wooden office desk, starting to greedily kiss you. His lips tasted like cigar smoke and blood and it made your mind go blank.

Instinctively you wrapped your legs around his waist and put your arms around his shoulders. You were only kissing but you already felt like moaning into his mouth, your arousal palpable. Crocodile did not wait any longer. While still kissing you, he unbuckled his belt, pulling down both his trousers and underwear. His throbbing cock was so huge, pressing against your clothed folds, for a moment you were not sure if you could take it all. He did not give you a choice. Ripping your tights apart, he pulled down your panties and pushed your skirt up. Your bare ass was seated now on documents from the morning briefing and before your boss embraced you, he quickly checked with his fingers if you were ready for him. The slick sound made him smile, he kissed your neck and gently whispered: 

“Killing that guy turned you on, didn't it?”

Without waiting for your reply he pushed into you, his full length filling you in an instant. Surprisingly you were ready to take him - there was no pain, only pleasure. As he started to move relentlessly into you, your thighs and your butt started slapping against the wood of the desk. You moaned into his shoulder, feeling his big cock filling you to the brim. As you held onto him you were able to peek over his shoulder, seeing the lifeless body of the client still slightly bleeding, but much less than earlier, leaving a big crimson puddle on the floor. 

Crocodile gently but vigorously pulled your hair forcing you to look at him. 

“Focus on me, baby. I want you to enjoy every moment of this…!” his deep voice was laced with desire, you could feel his cock pulsating against your velvet folds. 

His demand made you feel getting close to your own orgasm, he pressed his hand on your mouth, trying to stifle your moans and holding on to you while his motions grew more forceful and vigorous. 

“Almost there..!”, he leaned over and whispered these words into your ear.

“I underestimated you, I knew you were beautiful and charming.. but I did not think you had the guts to kill someone…!”, his voice turned husky from the fast-paced breaths.

You pushed your nails into his skin and threw your head back as the orgasm washed over you like a wave. Seeing you squirting all over his cock made him go wild, with some last stuttering movements he pushed his cum inside of you, gently collapsing with his massive body on your suit jacket. You both were panting, the room was hot and sticky, the scent of blood and wrongdoing hung in the air.

He slowly stood upright, handing you your underwear and pulling up his trousers, adjusting his tie in a swift movement. 

Still overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment you silently grabbed your panties, pushing them into your jacket pocket instead of putting them back on. 

"Well, I've been in need of a personal assistant for quite some time now," Crocodile cleared his throat, smoothing back his slicked hair with a swift gesture. "How about we tidy up this mess together and then discuss your well-deserved promotion?"

[wafflebloggies]

Fever

(The latest Captain Disillusion video, for a bit of context)

It was a quiet day at the beach stand. The day was too hot, the waves were below par and there was an annoying sandy breeze, and even now in the best hour of lunch the tourist trade was slow. Sandwiched comfortably between two coolers and a serviceable fan, the operator and sole proprietor of the beach stand, otherwise Claude, was in the best possible position to watch the figure approach.

It drew attention, the only changing thing in an otherwise serene landscape. The palms swayed gently in the breeze, the sun blazed, the waves rolled on, the striped blue-white sail banners for the surf school rippled and flipped back and forth up by the road, but the figure went from a small dot to a dark shape against the white sand to a recognizably human figure to a guy, tan shorts and a white shirt and a slow trudging pace, drawing closer under Claude’s vaguely interested eye.

When the guy finally got close enough, he stopped at the edge of the parking lot and stood looking across the heat-hazy road behind the beach, or at least where it could be seen through the thick screen of pitch-apple. With his mouth slightly open, gazing in all cardinal directions, he looked as if he was trying to spot something in particular. Claude thought the guy was probably good for an Aquafina at least; he looked a little fried and not much like someone who was particularly enjoying their beach walk. He didn’t look much like someone who’d prepped well for one either, with his bare feet and hot face.

As he caught his breath, the guy’s vacant gaze wandered eventually around to the beach stand, the counter, met Claude’s mildly curious sunglasses, bounced nervily away. Eventually, with a manner on him that seemed to not want to commit to anything decisive, he came closer, not very sure-footed on the hot tarmac and ribs of sand that had drifted up across the lot.

“Hi, uh, sorry, can you- do you know what that street is?”

Claude looked in the direction indicated.

“That’s Seventeenth, down there.”

The guy nodded a few times, but didn’t exactly look enlightened. Claude could understand; walking aimlessly down the beach for any length of time was apt to get anybody turned around, especially tourists.

“She’s El Danio,” he said, running his finger along the pitch-apples, to indicate the long avenue ranging north-south behind them. “That’s the casino, up at the lights.”

The guy seemed to gather up a desperate resolution. “Is this Miami?” he asked.

This was a lot less understandable, as was the peculiar blend of hope and horror in the question, marked in the guy’s face. Claude had only been wondering if he was on vacation or just lost, but now other questions started rising. There was nothing markedly threatening here, nothing to really alarm or set him reaching for the bat under the counter, but you never knew, and if trouble was going to happen on this fine afternoon it wasn’t difficult to see it coming from some shoeless weirdo who didn’t seem to know what city he was in.

“Fort Lauderdale,” he said, cautiously, but this only elicited a completely different kind of peculiar look, a mingling of momentary relief, agitation, calculation and quiet despair, aimed into the middle distance. The guy nodded, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, rubbed the pinkening bridge of his nose.

“Oh... alright. Thanks.”

“Sure. You okay? We got water, soda…”

Claude usually would have called it as a pretty sure sale, since if anybody looked in dire need of a cold drink, it was this guy. However, he only gave the cooler a longing glance, and didn’t reply. Instead, he shielded his eyes and squinted up at the sun, high and nearly dead overhead, then pointed down the beach in the other direction, the way he’d been heading.

“Miami’s that way?”

Claude nodded. The guy nodded back in a sort of resolute, unhappy echo, set his shoulders, and headed off.

*

The walk took almost five hours.

Alan had put up with so much at this point that just quietly taking whatever ridiculous scenario was hurled his way- or that he was hurled into- had become second nature to him. What really hurt, if he’d been able to examine it at all just then, was knowing with chilly clarity that this stupid, wretched situation, all this pain and trouble, could have been so easily avoided with just a single thought.

A single, simple, momentary impulse of care.

Finally reaching home in the gathering evening, weary to his bones, he had just enough energy to limp up the small strip of green alongside his apartment and crack the trick window, heave his weight up onto the sill, and haul himself up and over. After the long, long walk, the energy this cost him felt like the absolute last reserve he had left.

His apartment was dark, the air cold on his arms and face, though the night had felt suffocatingly close just a little while before. He crawled into bed, dragging off the unfamiliar sand-filled clothes along the way, and slept.

Shallowly, restlessly. The night passed, the morning, most of the day. He dreamed he was still walking, heat and sand and a hundred unfamiliar streets. He woke shivering, with Leica nudging at his side. He pulled on a shirt, fed her, changed out the water in her fountain as she followed his slow painful steps like a small shadow, with something more than her usual alacrity. She seemed to know, as far as a cat could know, that something wasn’t right with him. He wished he could tell her he was okay, but he had a sneaking suspicion that if she’d been able to understand that much, she would probably also understand that he was lying.

He tried to apply himself to making food for himself, but found his body too sore and stiff and mind too dazed to make any sense out of the few things left in his fridge. Connections between thoughts moved sluggishly, failed to hook up at all. His feet were cut and blistered and almost too painful to stand even after he tried to patch them up, and every muscle in his legs felt strained. Vaguely aware he didn't feel okay, vaguely aware that most practical approaches to a solution involved his phone and his keys, he gave up, and crept back to bed.

Slept, shallowly, restlessly. Woke, with a cold shaking fever on him. He couldn't get a fix on the room- the walls and ceiling ebbed and wobbled nastily in an ashy twilight that could have been dawn or sundown. Time slid or crawled, it was dark, rain drummed on the glass, the sun was hazy through the gap in the curtains. The little gap tormented him, the thin slant of bright light it let in inching across the room with a mechanical inevitability that was somehow unspeakably distressing. The concept of getting up and closing the curtain properly seemed completely beyond him, out of his hands.

Some chunk of eternity later, with a titanic effort, he got to the bathroom. He drank a little water, retched over the sink, threw up nothing. His stomach ached, but the idea of this as a fixable issue was buried somewhere under the haze, and he couldn't pin it down. One foot, or both- an inseparable entity of foot- throbbed dully with his pulse. He had no clear memory of making his way back to bed. Somebody- not him- did it in slow pieces; endless hallway, an icy expanse of living-room tiles, sticky-prickly bedroom rug.

The fever turned hot a few times, but for the most part he was miserably, teeth-chatteringly cold. The gap in the curtains was still his nemesis, until night took it away. Alan could feel its hot, harassing, exacting stare even then, no matter which way he turned or how he tried to shut it out with blanket or pillow or fingers, drilling into him like a baleful yellow eye, measuring his small human worth. He couldn’t ever satisfy it, and the strain of trying to was killing him by inches. He tossed and turned, beyond exhausted, unable to rest. His forehead was clammy and his mouth felt like a dried-out drain, a storm canal somewhere, foul and parched. Was it possible to be too tired to sleep?

Through a dark swamp of fever and incoherent worry, through a hundred unreadable to-do lists and an overbearing weight, he struggled as he was fighting over a beach turned to quicksand, a heaving formless mass that clung and tried to suck him down. Towards dawn, twisting away from the angry eye in the curtains as it brightened, he gave up. He let it take him, a thick sea of black shivering oblivion closing over his head, filling his mouth, his eyes.

After a long incoherent gap, he thought he heard a sound, then several sounds. He thought he heard voices. Fighting open a sticky eye he saw his bedroom wall, the yellow shade of a light he hadn't turned on. Shadows moved. He tried to ask a question, but his throat point-blank refused. Shuddering, he tried to blot out the shapes with his hands, only for someone to lean over his bed, and gently stop him.

"Hey, it's okay," said a voice, quietly. He knew it, but could only manage a sort of eroded croak.

"Yeah," said Ellie, despite the noise only resembling her name on the loosest of loose construction. She squeezed his hand. "We're here, you're gonna be fine."

She brought the scent of sunscreen with her. He couldn’t see much, apart from her dark curtain of hair and concerned eyes. She put his arm gently down at his side and moved back, and now he saw Blair behind her, a tall thin shadow.

He tried to tell them how grateful he was that they’d come looking, that they’d even noticed. Somewhere along the way he lost himself, and the restless sea churned over him, but not quite as deep as before.

How long this time, he didn't know. When he woke up, he felt a little better, shivery and weak, and Blair was sitting by his bed, reading, with Leica a tricoloured comma dozing on his lap. When he realized Alan was awake, he put the book down and smiled.

"Well, we have our instructions," he said, as Leica stretched and spilled lazily down from his knees. "You’re to take two of these," and he set a small bottle on the nightstand, with a short dry skittering sound within, like a distracted rattlesnake, "but you need to eat something first, and keep drinking as much water as you can- slowly. I'll get something uncomplicated. How does oatmeal sound? Or eggs?"

Alan hadn’t heard much, after a certain point. His stomach lurched, and the orange plastic bottle with its printed label seemed horribly big in his wavering focus. "Blair, I can't- I can't aff-"

Blair's smile went away. "My doctor," he said, firmly, "came over, as a favour to me, which is quite besides the point. More importantly, he said you're severely dehydrated- amongst other things. He gave you an injection for that, and another one for your foot, he's sending over some antibiotics for that as well. He took out a bit of glass, I think."

Alan said, shakily, disconnectedly, "I'm sorry."

"What for?" Blair looked down, brows pulling sharply together. "I should be apologizing to you. After you stopped answering your phone, I told Ellie you were likely just- busy. If I'd listened to her in the first place, we'd have been here much earlier. Somehow I always manage to forget she's the one with all the common sense."

He paused.

"We still can't find your phone. It seems to be on, but calling it-"

"I don't know where it is," mumbled Alan. "It was in my jeans."

"Where, ah... where are your jeans?"

"Space."

He had closed his heavy eyes, but he could hear the silence. It lengthened, maybe confused but definitely not surprised, before Blair threw it off with a cough. Alan felt the long, thin hand press his own, briefly, the rustle as his friend stood up.

“When you’re feeling up to it,” he said, “I think we’re both interested in what happened.”

“Nothing happened,” Alan croaked. “Just, you know, work stuff.”

“Work stuff,” repeated Blair. “Yes.”

He was standing at the window now, by the direction of his voice. Most likely with one arm lightly in the other behind his back, in a way that would look ridiculously pompous and archaic on almost anyone else but with Blair just looked natural, and he was probably looking out at the truncated view of electrical boxes and scrubby trees just as he would have gazed out of the window of his workshop or across any marvellous panorama of the Bewilderness, seeing the same things wherever he chose to look, the same wild sweep of potential. Just now, he sounded as if he was studying an annoying tangle, a knot without a good end to snag.

“I’ll see about those eggs,” he said, gently. Alan heard him open the door, the soft click as it closed.

As dull-headed and empty as he felt just then, Alan still struggled with the feeling that something- something rested leaden on him as he let his friend go. Guilt was at the forefront, that he hadn’t tried to explain further, to make it seem right. It somehow seemed to always be his task to try to make things right, to make the inevitable fallout seem reasonable and okay, but the difference was that it usually felt as if there was a point in trying, at least. Just now, he found he could only think about how it never seemed to fall on the Captain, the one who could talk, who was good at talking, explaining, being convincing. The Captain never even appeared to notice this too-familiar sinking something, in any form, not Blair’s chilly sideways looks at his back that penned whole essays, not even Ellie’s hesitation when hesitation was so unlike her. It always seemed to fall wholly on Alan to try to deflect these things, and now- at least for the moment- the point was gone. He couldn’t deflect or control their reactions this time. Whatever the consequences would be, he was finally too tired to try.

*

It took a little time- it took several days- for Alan to recover enough to face the closet, the simple slatted wooden door that opened on one side to his quiet apartment hallway and on the other to the humming blinking corridor of the ship, to creep like a trespasser back to his station in the edit bay and the intimidating build-up of everything awaiting him there. He could have handled any kind of workload- it was the confrontation he really dreaded.

When it did catch up with him, though, it wasn’t at all the kind he expected. The Captain had other things on his mind.

“I am not just imagining things!” The Captain was pacing, never a good sign. Alan watched him warily, feeling somewhat trapped in his chair, a defendant who hadn’t even realised he was on trial. “This radio silence is completely out of character. Look, I linked her to this video of a capybara yesterday, and- nothing! You know she loves capybaras! It had a little hat on and everything. See?!”

His phone was extremely close to Alan’s nose. He leaned back a little. “It’s very cute, sir.”

“And- some guy delivered my stuff this morning! Some random guy!”

Alan blinked a few times. It was hard to know how to field this. “Well, I mean, SpaceJunk probably has a lot of couriers, it’s not always gonna be Ellie-“

“No, it is always Ellie! Always! Except this morning, when it was some random guy!”

“Well, okay, she probably just had a different route…“

“No. No, there’s something going on, and it’s not just her, either- look, look at this.”

He jabbed at his phone a few times, held it up like it was something to stop traffic with. Alan was quite relieved to have a reason not to look at the Captain for a moment, and instead focused on the screen as it rang out, beeped a short, single note.

“The person you are trying to call is unavailable. Please try again later."

“Blair doesn’t always- remember about phones, Captain. He might just- wait,” he said, raising a tenuous finger to the phone as the Captain snatched it away, “did that say you’ve made forty-seven attempted c-”

“It’s all adding up, Alan! Maybe you’d have a better idea of what’s been going on around here if you hadn’t decided to vanish on me- don’t think I didn’t notice-”

“Wh- you- sir, I-”

-but at this point there’s only one possible explanation.” The Captain drew in a deep, bristling breath. “They’re avoiding us.”

In the pause that followed, Alan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. In the moment, he felt closer to trying to make a point, trying at least to say something, than he ever had before. The reality of his injured foot, the itchy remains of his sunburn, his lingering aches and pains, everything pushed him to speak. He wanted to say, do you have any idea what you did? He wanted to say, there’s a beach like a quarter-hour from my place. I could have gone there. You could have put me there, zapped me over there instead of some random place five hours away, and I guess I’m lucky it was just Fort Lauderdale, not Malibu or New Zealand or Mars. And that’s not even the point, you could have put me anywhere, if you’d only thought to bring me back.

Not trusting his face, he looked at the floor, then sideways, like someone feeling slowly along a rope, and so back to the safety of his monitor screen. It didn’t stay safe for very long, because the Captain appeared above it, all indignant eyebrows, not about to be put off.

“Hey! Are you even listening? I said-”

“No, I heard you, I- I just don’t think that’s really all that... likely?”

The Captain looked at him, pityingly. “The power of denial,” he said. “Never ceases to amaze me. Well, you do what you want, I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

He stomped out, already dialling again. Alan watched the doors hiss shut behind him and started to let out a relieved sigh, biting it sharply in half as the doors swished open again to admit the Captain’s head.

“Don’t literally do what you want; do the rest of the annotations. The file’s on Gamma drive.”

He disappeared. This time Alan waited a while longer, just to make sure, then limped carefully across the edit bay and hid himself behind a bank of servers while he pulled out his own phone. He still didn’t have a lot of energy to spare, and his head was starting to hurt. He peered through a gap in the humming racks, phone to ear and eyes ranging anxiously towards the door in a little ocular waltz of paranoia as he listened to it ring.

“Ellie?”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothing, um-”

“How’s your foot?”

“It’s fine. Are, uh, are you working today?”

“Yeah, just heading back from the Triangulum. Everything okay?”

“Yeah…” Alan swallowed, poking a messy loop of cable back into the server cage. “That’s your normal route?”

“Yup.” It could have been purely imaginary, but Alan felt there was something just a bit too definite about this yup. It was a very clear, very quick yup of premeditated purpose. Possibly. “Hey, let’s get lunch.”

“It’s-” He glanced at his bare wrist, took a couple of panicky swipes at his phone, failed to get it to show anything other than the call, picked his way gingerly back across to check the computer. “It’s kinda late…“

“But you haven’t had lunch?”

“No, I’ve- no-”

“I’ll be like an hour, if you can last out. Mango Tree?”

“Well-”

“Okaycoolbyeeeeee!”

Alan looked at nothing in particular for a moment or two, then sat down slowly at the workstation and tried Blair. Two rings, and then Blair’s clear voice, sounding like he usually did- like the phone couldn’t be trusted to pick up his voice unless he spoke as if he was trying to hail someone across a fairly large room.

“Hello, Alan. Did you know it’s National Lighthouse Day today?”

Alan had to take a moment, after this beginning, to pick up the scattered card-house of his thoughts and put it back into a semi-ordered pile. “No, I… actually didn’t.”

“There’s seven hundred and seventy-nine of them in the United States. We might visit some today. Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m- I’m fine, are you-”

“How’s the foot?”

“It’s fine.” Alan took a breath. “Is there something wrong with your phone?”

“Oh, well, you know I don’t really understand these things,” said the Dreamfinder. Alan could hear, didn’t have to imagine, the smile in his voice. “I think I heard it made some noises a while ago. Always beeps and bings, these gadgets.”

“Uh… huh.”

“That’s the party line, anyway.”

“Was that… was that a pun?”

“Well, perhaps... I was fairly sure of a good reception.”

“I don’t know, it sounded kinda like you were phoning it in…”

And it was stupid-simple, how easy it was to talk, sometimes. Alan listened to his friend describe a little lighthouse on an island near Boston, a hundred years old before Blair had even been born, and then he told Blair about the light at Daugavgrīvas, destroyed six times by fire, war and storm, always rebuilt. There were a few more phone puns, and a lot of illumination-based and nautically-inspired puns, and he hung up smiling, with Blair’s quiet laughter in his ear, and only realised after about a minute and a half that he hadn’t managed to really ask him anything he’d meant to at all.

Nearly half an hour had slipped by since he’d kind-of-not-really agreed to meet Ellie, and he was sitting with a half-written text, trying to figure out what to tell her to cancel, when in the space between ‘Hi,’ and ‘Sorry’ a strange impulse struck and he decided to just... not.

Instead, he scrabbled around in a drawer for a marker, wrote ‘AT LUNCH’ on a bit of electrical tape and stuck it at a decisive slant across his monitor, then fled before the sight of what he’d done frightened him enough to try to peel it off.

Under a dim glow of blue and red, his abandoned workstation idled quietly. After a while, the monitor flickered once or twice, bright under the strip of tape, then went dark.

[devynconstance]

Cleaning Thrifted Fabric

Nobody asked for this but I recently acquired a whole lot of fabric from my great aunt (love her so much she's the best) and I just went through this whole process so I figured I'd share what I do for clean fresh smelling thrifted fabric.

The fabric I got was partially stuff she had stored away for a long time and partially stuff from garage sales so while I wasn't necessarily worried about bugs, I like to live on the safe side when it comes to potentially contaminating the rest of my fabric stash. So before doing anything else with the fabric, I like to put it in extreme temperatures, hot or cold, to kill off any bugs or bactera that could be on the material, and unfortunately I do not have the funds for my own personal fabric freezer (i dont like putting it next to my frozen food) so here's what I do instead.

After going through everything, I throw all the material into one garbage bag (I think it works better when everything's unfolded) and squeeze as much air out of the bag as possible before tying it off. The goal is to be as close to an air tight seal as possible. And then I chuck the whole thing into my car for a about a week. This only really works in the summer and winter when the temperatures are more extreme (I should also note my car sits outside so it gets really hot with the direct sunlight hitting it and really cold on winter nights). Technically speaking, I think you're actually supposed to do it a few times (as in letting it get back to room temperature and then doing it again) but I didn't do that because the car cools down overnight anyways. When the fabric has been sufficiently 'baked' it's time to move onto step two.

This next step tackles the musty smell that thrifted fabric and clothes can have when you first get them. Just washing them in the washing machine doesn't normally do much good on getting rid of it, so after getting the bag of fabric back inside, I clean out my bathtub and prepare to soak them. If you only have a few pieces of fabric to work with you can also do this step in a bucket or large pot but i definitely needed the full tub for this batch. I partially fill the tub up with warm water (just enough to mostly cover the material), and add about a cup of white vinager and liberally sprinkle baking soda on top, i dont have exact measurements here we just go by vibes lol.

(It doesn't really matter which brand you use but here's the ones I used this time)

And finally add your material. Please please be aware that the dye on the material can bleed quite a bit and stain the other fabrics, so if this is something that'll be an issue, do this in a few batches separated by color. I notice the biggest issue with the red dyes.

Make sure everything is thoroughly soaked and leave sit for an hour. I come back to it once or twice to move things around and make sure everything is soaking evenly. It won't hurt the fabric if you leave it sitting for longer, you can even leave it overnight if you want to, but an hour was plenty long enough for my purposes.

Finally, wash and dry as normal and you have perfectly clean, bug free, fresh smelling, fabric (or clothes) ready for your next project!

[intotheseas]

My submission for @stardewfanficwriters ' event, 1.6 fest! Day 4, Green Rain.

Title: Hoppipolla

Rating: M

Pairing: Sebastian x OC f!farmer

Tags: Unresolved sexual tension, fluff, character development, sexual tension, friends to lovers, falling in love

Word count: 5,960

AO3 Link here!

Full text below the break!

Sage loves her cows. They're gentle giants with soulful eyes, fuzzy brown fur, and a proclivity for affectionate headbutts. Since they arrived a month ago they've thrived, living well off of the land. 

The late afternoon sun’s a furnace beating down on her as she finishes her milking. Every animal is loved upon, every space is cleaned, and each trough is overstuffed with hay. Sage wipes her forehead. The air is so humid it's almost wet, moisture hanging thick in the air. 

Moving on from her livestock, Sage allows her thoughts to wander. She and Shane meet up for lunch at least a couple times per week. Bit by bit, they're getting closer. It's good to have friends in the Valley.

Her newfound financial security is nice, too. Pierre buys a large portion of her milk, and she's negotiating with a few grocers in neighboring towns to sell the surplus.

Sage examines her fields. Pierre offered her a bulk discount on tomato starters, and her first harvest put the potatoes from spring to shame, thanks to fertilizer. Ever since she relented to Pierre's numerous thinly veiled sales pitches, the quality of her crops has skyrocketed. Even after almost half a year in the Valley, she's learning new things every day. 

Half the produce went to Pierre, and the other to a grocer a few towns away. A couple weeks ago, she and Maru spent a few days together installing a sprinkler system into her fields. Maru had been eager to put her skills to the test, and they were both grateful for the bonding time.

With a soft expression, she brushes her fingers along the tiny yellow flowers. Day by day she's watched the plants climb higher and higher along the trellises she and Sebastian built. They'd spent hours putting together the thin pieces of wood, spread out on the farmhouse’s floor. 

It was sweltering that day, and he'd taken his shirt off again. They'd relished the weak breeze from the box fan Sage set up near the door. From the corner of her eye she'd watched, shameless, as he worked. Her gaze lingered on his back and freckled shoulders far longer than what was usual for a friend. 

She's accepted, she has a big crush. But they're friends, and good friends at that. And that's enough, for now. A smile tugs at her lips as she surveys her farm. It's hasn't ceased to be novel, that thought. Her farm. Hers. She never pictured herself this way, owning anything. Creating something. It's more fulfilling than she ever thought it would be.

After a final glance at the fields, Sage heads inside for a shower. Scrubbing herself raw, she sighs in relief, melting under the lukewarm stream. She's always loved feeling clean, especially after a day of working in the hot sun.

Satisfied, she strolls into the main room, dripping water onto the wooden planks. Grabbing a soda from the fridge, she turns on the TV, her newest splurge. When her milk started selling so well, she figured she deserved a treat. 

Sebastian comes over more often lately. They camp out at the table, snack on veggies, and enjoy the easy company. It's a comforting routine they've built, a foundation of silly jokes, music, and a mutual appreciation for books and dumb sitcoms. 

That's something Sage likes about Sebastian. She never feels the need to fill the silence between them. They have good conversations, too, but there's never any pressure to talk. It's effortless. Natural.

The news is on, and she's only half listening, pondering what she might plant this fall, until an alarm blares. Leaning forward, she squints. 

The weatherman pulls at his collar and stammers, mentioning a strange storm developing. Sage stills as the words "unprecedented" and "anomalous" bounce between the newscasters. She thinks of her crops.

Sage: Hey, are you watching the news right now?

Sebastian: No, why?

Sage: There’s some weird weather thing? Green rain? Idk. People seem kind of freaked out.

Sebastian: Shit, yeah, this looks cool as fuck. You see the video they showed?

Sage: Mhm. I guess it's supposed to hit us overnight. I'm kinda worried for my tomatoes. Think I'm gonna put covers on them.

After downing her soda and watching more of the forecast, Sage steps outside. She's digging around in the shed, tossing coverings, stakes, and a hammer out, when she hears footsteps. A minute later, Sebastian raps on the door, holding a stitch in his side and out of breath.

“Hey, thought you might want some help, so here I am.” He scrapes his hair into a half-bun, pulls the tarps from the shed, and drags them to the field.  

Sage blinks. “Hi to you, too. Thanks, Seb.” Joining him, she tries her best to ignore how self conscious she feels, aware of every miniscule movement she makes. 

“My pleasure.” He fiddles with his t-shirt’s collar. “Mom also wants you to stay the night. I guess the whole town's freaking out because of this storm. She doesn't want you alone in case it's destructive.” 

“And,” he avoids her gaze, “it's probably best if people stick together. I'm sure it's nothing, but better safe than sorry.” 

Sage looks at him for a moment, watching as he hammers a stake into the ground, and shrugs. “Yeah, okay. Let's finish this and I'll pack a bag.” Keeping her expression nonchalant, she can only hope her exterior doesn't betray the frazzled state of her heart and mind. 

On the inside, her stomach's doing flips that would put any gymnast to shame. Hanging out at her place and the docks is one thing, but spending the night under the same roof…Dangerous thoughts, Sage. Focus.

She bites the inside of her cheek, clinging to her composure. Though he doesn't mention it anymore, Sage doesn't know when Sebastian plans on leaving for Zuzu. The odd sense of limbo’s thorned into her side as they've grown closer. 

With her tongue stuck between her teeth, she drives the last stake into the ground. Whatever this rain is, it shouldn't touch her crops. Satisfied, she brushes her shorts off. “Guess I'll pack a bag.” 

Sebastian follows her inside - by now it's second nature. He grabs a soda from the fridge and sits at the table, glued to the news while he rests his chin in his hand. 

Keeping an ear trained to the forecast, Sage throws some essentials into her backpack. The weatherman’s voice is shaky, repeating his earlier warnings of unprecedented events and strange radar signatures. 

Her forehead scrunches as her movements slow. If anything happens to the animals or crops, she'll have to start over. Can she do that? “I'm wondering if I should leave. What if it harms my tomatoes or livestock? And Lenny?” 

“I get it, but we can shut the animals in the barns and take Lenny with us. There's not much you can do against nature.” Sebastian frowns. “I'd rather have you safe with us than stuck here alone.” 

The look on his face makes Sage a little weak in the knees. He's speaking as if he cares about her. Which he probably does. As a friend. Because that's what they are.

Turning away, Sage hides her heated cheeks. "Yeah, okay. I'm still gonna worry, though." After Lenny's coaxed into his carrier, she and Sebastian corral her beloved chickens and cows inside. Sage hugs each animal and stuffs their troughs with extra hay.

Hoisting her bag onto her shoulder, she looks back at her farm as they begin the trek up the mountain path. Lenny's in his carrier, cradled safe in Sebastian's arms. Her steps falter.

"You good Sage? You've got the same kind of dreamy look Maru gets." He waves a hand in front of her.

She startles. "Sorry! I was just thinking how it's been almost six months since I came here. This farm means a lot to me. Didn't expect that to happen. Was only looking for an escape, but this...well, it's a lot more."

With molten eyes, Sebastian smiles. "Glad you moved here, farmer girl."

His words leave her fizzy, like the sodas they left on her kitchen table. Sage thinks she might float up and out of sight if she wasn't attached to a body. She wants to hug him, to tell him she's glad here's in the Valley too, but resists. Instead, she casts a final look back. "Do you think the rain will be anything bad?" Her voice wavers.

"Nah." Sebastian coos at Lenny as he steps around a rock. "We're right by the ocean. There's bound to be weird storms coming up the coast now and then." With a quick glance at her, he adds, "There's no harm in being careful, though. And Mom will be happy to have you."

The tension leaves her body as he speaks. And Sage wonders, when did that start happening? When did she start trusting him to calm her? To help her? Taking a deep breath, Sage realizes how much she's changed since she left the city, and how much she loves the changes she's made.

She's blooming, same as tulips on her porch, and the tomatoes in her fields. Thriving alongside the land Grandpa Charlie entrusted to her.

As they reach Sebastian's house, they're treated to a dazzling view of the sun dipping closer to the sea. The air is cloying with the scent of rain, and in the distance, clouds tinged with green scud off the horizon. Sage shivers. Whether it's in excitement or fear, she isn't sure.

Inside the house, it's dim and smells of sawdust and varnish. Sage peers around, craning her neck. "Where should I put my stuff?"

Sebastian stops, blank. "Uhh, I hadn't thought that far ahead. There's a couch downstairs. You can let Lenny out down there, too. C'mon." He leads her down a set of steps to the right. 

They're greeted with complete darkness. Bumping into Sebastian's chest, Sage blusters backward, tripping to the ground. 

Swearing, Sebastian sets down a protesting Lenny and stumbles a few paces away. "Shit, you alright? Hold on." A switch clicks, and a light flickers on. Extending a hand, he hoists Sage up.

"Thanks, I'm good. I didn't expect it to be so dark." She peers around. "So, this is your room?" Gray bricks line the walls, and the decor is minimal. A bed, couch, shelf, and a desk with a computer. A few posters line the walls, mostly from bands or video games. Sebastian shifts beside her.

"It's not what I expected, although your bookshelf does look nice..." Sage trails her fingers against the books’ spines. A decent collection of comics, horror, and some classics.

"I, uh, haven't really redecorated at all since high school, since I figured I'd be leaving and all."

Sage straightens and keeps her expression carefully neutral. Of course, he's still thinking of moving. "Ah. Right." She turns to face him. "Makes sense, if you're gonna go to the city."

Awkwardness hangs over them, sticky and suffocating. Sebastian's gaze darts around, and a shaky laugh escapes him. "A-anyway," he says, "who knows when that'll happen. We should go upstairs. I'm sure Mom wants to see you."

Bending down, Sage lets Lenny out of his carrier. "Yeah. Let's do that." As she follows him out, her heart is tender in her chest, like it's sustained a bruise. She's gotten attached. Her nails bite into her palm as she holds back tears. This sucks.

In the kitchen, Robin and Maru gather around the table, the glow of the TV reflected in their wide eyes. Maru flashes a quick smile, and Robin pats Sage's head as they sit, her focus trained forward. "I'm glad you're here, Sage. I'm sure this'll be nothing, but it never hurts to be safe. Everyone in town's worried and the news isn't doing much to calm the public."

"I appreciate you inviting me to stay the night." Sage does her best to keep her voice light despite the weight in her stomach. "Maru, will you and Demetrius study this at all?"

Maru twirls a pencil between her fingers. "I'll take some samples once it passes, but I'm not going out until it's over. Dad, well, he'll do what he wants regardless of what we say." Robin scowls.

Pulling her knees to her chest, Sage turns her focus to the worried newscaster on screen. The feed switches to a reporter in Zuzu City. They huddle under an awning, casting nervous glances at the vivid green sky above. "An emergency stay in place order remains in effect for Zuzu City! All non-essential businesses are to remain closed."

Another talking head appears. "We can confirm the rain is not acidic. However, we don't know much else, only that it appears to make vegetation grow at an alarming rate. Whether this affects its cellular structure or not remains to be seen."

Maru leans forward, already scribbling onto a piece of paper. "Fascinating,” she murmurs. "By the way, Sage, if you don't mind the floor, I have a sleeping bag you can use."

"Oh! Thank you, I-"

"I've already set her up on the couch in my room. Comfier than the floor."

Sage, Maru, and Robin's heads snap toward Sebastian, but they say nothing.

She wasn't aware that placing her things on the couch counted as her agreeing to sleep there, but she's not complaining, either.

The silence is broken by the patter of raindrops against the window. Robin springs up and turns off the lights. Outside, a faint green light is visible while clouds hover overhead, closer to the ground than usual. Shuddering, Robin sits down and turns to the TV.

The talking heads continue their talking, interspersed with videos of reporters shivering under umbrellas and wearing gas masks. They look ridiculous, and Sage is leaning toward Sebastian to whisper as much when Demetrius enters the kitchen, donned head to toe in a hazmat suit. He breathes, heavy and labored, and Sage's mind flashes to a caricature of Darth Vader.

"Shit, I just forgot I have a project due for a client tonight. Sage, come help me." Sebastian grabs her hand and pulls her into the hallway and down the stairs. She can hear Robin's bemused voice floating after them.

"Sage can code?"

Downstairs, he grips her hand, doubled in laughter, and soon Sage is laughing too. They clutch at each other for support, trying not to fall. His hands move to her shoulders and she feels so secure she might cry. He's so solid, so safe, so fucking alive.

"He looked ridiculous," Sebastian chokes between peals of laughter. His head hovers above Sage's shoulder, and then rests on it, giggles muffled into her flannel. He smells of soap, coffee, and faintly of cigarettes, and Sage wants to close the distance, to wrap her arms around him.

But she can't. Because he's going to leave her. She stiffens under his touch, and he quiets and steps away, the grin wiped from his lips. "Ah, sorry. I invaded your personal space."

Sage shrugs, all her focus on keeping a straight face. "You didn't. It's fine."

The sticky awkwardness is there again, like drops of humidity clinging to their skin. Clearing his throat, Sebastian turns on the TV and sits on the couch. "You can join me, if you'd like."

She sinks into the cushions beside him. Their thighs almost touch, and that's louder than anything the panicked weatherman has to say. Lost in her own head, Sage finds herself suppressing tears again. She wanted that moment to last. She didn't mean to make him stop, and she's cursing herself for stiffening.

Sitting together on the couch feels so fucking right and normal, and her throat constricts as she realizes it's temporary. That someday she'll reminisce about this, sad, a mere blip in her life. Her eyes burn as she admits to herself, she wants this to be more than a blip. The thought gives her the urge to run away, out into the weird rain, as far as her legs will take her.

"Sage? You okay?" Sebastian's leaning forward, waving his hand.

She jumps.

"You're a million miles away."

Heart hammering in her chest, Sage takes a deep breath. Fuck it."I- I'll really miss you when you move to Zuzu. We always have so much fun. Sorry, I want you to pursue your dreams, I promise, it just won't be the same once you're gone.”

Sebastian frowns, eyebrows knitted. "Sage..."

She knows how this part goes. He'll tell her she's nice, but he doesn't see her the same way, and he has to follow his ambitions. And how can Sage blame him? Who is she to deny him the opportunity? A pathetic sniffle escapes her. She can't believe she's allowed herself to get so attached to him, especially since she always knew he planned to leave.

"Sage." He's holding her shoulder now. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

Swallowing hard, she shakes her head. "No, sorry. What did you say?"

He smiles at her, with something tender and warm in his expression. And for the second time that day she finds herself weak in the knees. "I said I'm not sure if I'm moving to Zuzu."

Sage blinks. "What?"

"Yeah. I've been thinking a lot about what I want out of life, and I'm not sure if that lies in the city. Or, well, if it lies anywhere. Maybe it's something I can find wherever I am." He leans back into the couch. "I think I wanted to move to Zuzu so I could be alone. Which sounds weird, but-"

"It's easier to be alone in the city. I lived there, I know." Their eyes lock.

"Exactly. But lately, things aren't so bad. Maru and I have gotten closer. Abby's dating someone from Grampleton and it isn't weird with her. And," he pauses, his gaze still on hers, "I have you."

Sage's breaths are shallow as her heart thumps in her chest. She's not sure how to deal with the sincerity, the tenderness in his voice, and defaults to a joke. Her voice squeaks. "So...you're saying we're friends?"

He tilts his head a bit before he bursts into laughter again, clapping a palm to his forehead. "Yeah, Sage. We're definitely friends." He looks at her for a few moments longer. "So, don't feel sad. I'm not leaving, not anytime soon, at least. And if I ever do, you'll have plenty of warning."

Chewing on a fingernail, she nods. It's not definite, but maybe their time isn't limited. Maybe she can get over her crush and be a good friend to him as she has to Shane. A tiny bubble of hope rises in her chest.

"Hey." Sebastian leans close again, inches from her face. Her focus is hyper-sharp, aware of every molecule of space between them. "I bet this rain isn't shit. You wanna sneak out after everyone goes to sleep? I bet we can see a ton of frogs. They must be going crazy out there."

Her lips curl into a wide grin. "Yeah. I wanna experience the super scary green rain. Should we get some coffee?"

“Yoba, yes. But try not to laugh at Demetrius if he's still in that getup."

"No promises." They both smother giggles into their hands. "But I'll do my best." 

Sebastian’s POV

"We should dress light. We're gonna get soaked, anyway." Sebastian sneaks a glance at Sage, clad in a thin tank top and jean shorts. Already regretting the choice of words, he turns away and shucks his hoodie. "Lucky for us, my family goes to bed early. Shall we?” 

“Let's do it.” Chugging the rest of her coffee, Sage scratches Lenny’s ear before they creep up the staircase. The squeak of the front door freezes them in their tracks, but no one stirs. They tiptoe outside with bated breath. 

Lingering by the front door, Sage peers at the eerie glow bathing the Valley. “Maybe we should stay here a few minutes to make sure it's not gonna hurt us.” Rubbing her arm, she shoots him a bashful grin. 

“You scared?” Sebastian chuckles.

“Not scared, just practical.” Sage sticks her tongue out, then recoils as the rain hits it. “What the fuck? Seb, it tastes like mint!” 

Sticking his own tongue out, he jerks in surprise as a few drops fall into his mouth. The taste is sharp, minty, and a little peppery. “Shit, that's weird.” He tilts his head to the sky. “I kinda dig it."

Below, Pelican Town is visible through the green haze. The sky above, so wide and open, fills him with thoughts of potential. Sebastian moves to Sage's side, leaning on the house.

He's a tightly wound ball, stuffed to the brim with fizzing excitement. It could be the caffeine, or the novelty, but he suspects most of it is the fact that Sage is there, and they have an entire night ahead of them. 

“Well, we haven't disintegrated yet. Think you're comfy to go out?” 

Sage answers by tugging him into the downpour. “We're already pretty wet. Might as well!” 

Taking the lead, Sebastian pulls her onto the path down the mountain. The air is thick with the lush smells of grass, moss, and damp earth. Everything shimmers through a sheen of emerald. He's never seen the path look so beautiful, so gorgeous. 

Sage keeps close. His skin tingles when her cold arm brushes against his. Trying to distract himself, he peers further into the gloom. “Spooky, isn't it?” 

She nods. “Yeah, but it's kinda delicious how creepy it is, you know?” Bending down, she inspects the wildflowers lining the trail. “Wow, there's already so much new growth.” 

Crouching beside her, he runs his fingers over a rock. It's fuzzy with a thick layer of moss. A frog leaps from behind, and he lights up as Sage catches it between her palms. 

“Check this little guy out! He's a cutie, isn't he?” 

The sight of her holding a frog, beaming, sends his heart into overdrive. With a soft huff, he touches its bumpy skin. “Very cute.” 

Careful not to harm it, Sage places the frog into the undergrowth. “Bet this is a total party for him.” Her smile is affectionate, reaching the depths of her eyes. “Let's leave him to it.” It hops deeper into the trees, croaking. 

“Have I ever told you I love frogs?” 

Sage blinks at him. “No, but I can totally see it. You both prefer damp and dark spaces, right? No wonder you stay in that basement all the time.” 

He scoffs in mock indignation. “I leave the house sometimes! I'm outside right now.” 

“Yeah, in a damp, dark space.” 

Grumbling, Sebastian pokes her side, but warms at her teasing, the kind only a friend could get away with. Somehow, with her, the playful jabs feel bubbly and fun. He watches Sage as she wanders ahead, hair plastered flat and skin glistening in the faint light. 

She lets out a cry as she slips, falling forward. Without thinking, Sebastian reaches out, hooking an arm around her waist. Tumbling down the path, they land in a tangled heap, her cheek smushed against his chest. 

Groaning, Sage rubs her arm. "Oww. You okay, Seb?"

"Yeah." Placing a palm on her head, Sebastian holds her steady as he sits up, legs twined with hers. She looks at him with her wide gaze and fuck, he wants nothing more than to kiss her right there, to press her back into the soft ground and take her. 

Neither of them make any effort to move. Clearing his throat, he tears his eyes from hers and wipes a smear of mud from her arm. “You okay?” 

Sage drops her face to his shoulder, letting out a shaky laugh. “I'm terrific, thanks for asking. And thanks for catching me.” A pause. “Well, sort of.” 

The most reluctant he can remember being in ages, he stands, extracting his limbs from hers, and helps Sage to her feet. They've ended up near Pierre's. The rain falls in sheets, tinting Pelican Town a verdant green. Sebastian touches his shoulder to hers. "So, what next? The world's our oyster."

"Mmm, how about the beach? I wanna see the ocean." Sage bends to wipe debris from her bare legs. Swallowing, Sebastian notices how her sodden shirt clings to the curves of her waist and hips.

"Lead the way." He says that so he can catch her if she slips again. Definitely not so he can peek at her form. No, definitely not.

As cobblestone turns to sand, Sebastian marvels at the endless sky. Thunder rumbles, a booming echo, and he and Sage grin at each other. The ocean, an oddly calm pool of jungle green, beckons him. 

Sebastian isn't usually a swimmer, but something about the hue and otherworldly feeling in the air draws him near. He pushes through tiny waves and turns to find Sage. She's at the shore, folded in on herself.

Offering a hand, he calls to her. "What? We're already soaked. Come on, we should clean off."

On tentative feet she approaches, and clutches at his arm. "Don't let go, okay?"

She doesn't have to ask him twice. Gripping her shoulders, he guides her in. The tide swirls around them, surprisingly warm and gentle. She wades in up to her waist and stops. Startled, Sebastian realizes she's trembling. "Sage? Are you okay?"

"I'm alright. I do have a slight fear of water." She clutches her arms to her torso "But this isn't too bad. Just give me a minute to get used to it."

"We can leave if this is too much."

"No, this is good. I want to confront it, you know?"

She releases her grip on him and ventures a bit further in, gasping as she's submerged up to her chest. His heart turns soft as her fingers skim the surface, as she lets out a shaky giggle. 

Sinking to his knees, Sebastian disappears, washing his skin. He rockets up, sending spray flying into the air. A few feet off, Sage sways, eyeing him.

"We'll need to take a shower when we go home. You're still covered in mud." Sebastian splashes her, grinning. She snorts, eyes dancing with a playful gleam he can't quite identify, and his mouth goes dry. "I mean, showers. You can go first."

The smallest smirk flits over her face before she ducks beneath the sea. Emerging, she gasps, covering her mouth. "I did it! I went underwater!" She jumps, as well as she can, and embraces him. "I've never been able to do it before."

"That's great, Sage." Peering at her, Sebastian returns the hug. He doesn't know why it's such a big deal, but he’s happy for her. He's idiotically happy, as if he might burst. 

And, same as when they'd laughed together under her bed, he knows it's time to pull back before he acts on a reckless impulse. "Come on. It's midnight and we're hopped up on caffeine. Let's check out the forest."

They waddle out of the ocean, taking one last look as they cross into town, toward the forest. Sebastian snickers as they pass Sam's house. “Sam would be so pissed if he found out we were out here without him.” 

Sage tosses him an amused smile. “Our little secret, then?” 

Sebastian likes the sound of that. He likes it a lot. The entrance to the forest yawns, the sound of the downpour muted as they pass into the trees. The scent of wet earth hangs in the air.

Raindrops slide from leaves, glittering in the lamplight outside Marnie's ranch. Sage tilts her face up, catching them on her tongue, laughing, laughing open and unabashed, as a child would. 

And it strikes him, he feels young, as if he's a kid again. That free, easy sensation he rarely got to experience. Somehow, with her, he can experience that wonder. It's something he's never known. 

He's standing, stunned at the thought, when she grabs his hand, a mischievous grin on her face. 

Pulling him along, she springs forward and lands in the middle of a giant puddle. Droplets of water, tiny emeralds, fly out in slow motion as her laugh, that beautiful sound, echoes around them. 

The world is a blur, of falling rain and its soft roar, yet through it all Sage is clear, in sharp focus. And without thinking, Sebastian’s jumping with her, sending spray sparkling into the air and joy reverberating deep into his soul. They jump like children until they're breathless, until they collapse against each other again, awash in their fits of mirth.

Wiping his brow, Sebastian pulls away, watching her. Sage nearly glows in the dim light. Her hair’s plastered to her face, and bits of seaweed cover her body. Streaks of dirt paint her arms and legs. 

She's beautiful. The thought soaks into his brain and renders him speechless as she dissolves into giggles, head thrown back, gripping the sleeves of his t-shirt. The rain patters onto their bodies, warm, gentle, and steady.

Catching her breath, Sage prods his shoulder. "Hey, space cadet. Mind if we check on my animals?"

In that moment, he's pretty sure he'd follow her anywhere she asked. "Let's go."

Sebastian almost trips when they exit the forest - the grass on Sage's farm has grown at least a foot since they left only hours ago. She barrels into it with a wild expression. "More feed for my livestock! This is perfect - I won't have to buy it from Marnie." She suppresses a smile. "Sorry, Marnie."

Wading through, they pass by the fields. Sage's tomatoes are secure under the tarps, and the land is still, save for the rain’s consistent patter. As they peek into the barns, the chickens and cows sleep, peaceful in their homes. Sage sags, holding onto the doorframe. "I'm so relieved. Was worried this would hurt them."

Laughing, Sebastian pokes her shoulder. "Well, we've tasted it and swam in it, so...I think by now we can say it's safe."

"You might have a point." Sage sneezes. "I'm a bit chilly. What about you?"

"Hot as a furnace, actually, but if you're cold, we can go home."

She turns toward the farmhouse. For a moment, Sebastian's heart sinks, thinking she's about to say she'll stay at her place tonight. Instead, she snaps her attention back to him and motions toward the mountain. "Yeah, let's go home."

Home.

Their trek up is slippery, the path covered with weeds and wildflowers. Between gasps and giggles they stumble, clutching handfuls of slick grass and dodging frogs. Even the trees are overgrown, branches hanging heavy with new leaves and tendrils of moss.

Sage looks up, brushing the lush greenery. After a moment of thought, she plucks a leaf and tucks it into her pocket. Sebastian cocks his head.

"A souvenir," she says, with a wistful smile. As they arrive at the house, the rain tapers off, fading to a few stray sprinkles. Silent, they gaze once more over Pelican Town and the sea beyond. Taking a chance, Sebastian shifts closer. She doesn't move.

"You're shivering, Sage. C'mon, let's get inside."

The door and wooden floors are traitorous, squeaking as they tiptoe inside. On quiet feet, with stifled giggles, they creep downstairs and into Sebastian's basement.

"You can shower first, get rid of that chill. Fresh towels are in the closet." Passing Sage's bag to her, he watches as she disappears into his attached bathroom and closes the door. Sebastian sheds his sodden clothing and exchanges it for a t-shirt and shorts. Sinking onto his couch, he finds himself once again trying very hard not to think about the girl showering ten feet to his right.

Funny how that keeps happening.

Minutes later, she emerges in a cloud of steam, wearing pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Her hair, no longer soaked but damp, hangs in wavy clumps. She lets out a content sigh and flops beside Sebastian.

Stiffening, he realizes she carries the scent of his body wash. It elicits a reaction he'd rather not think about. "I'll shower now." Leaping to his feet, he grabs a new set of clothes and darts into the bathroom, turning the tap to the coldest temperature he can stand.

He scrubs himself with vigor, keeping his thoughts on a line of code, on cleaning the toilet, anything to keep his mind from straying where it shouldn't. As he towels off and dresses, he takes a deep, steadying breath.

She’s sitting with her back to the sofa, cuddling with Lenny when he steps out. Her half-dry hair forms little wisps, framing her face. As she bounces her leg, Sebastian notices a tattoo. "I didn't know you had ink. Can I see?" 

"Oh!" Sage extends her leg forward, foot pointed. A tall plant with pink flowers and green leaves wraps around her ankle. "It's sage. Thought it'd be funny to have my namesake put on me." Her eyes rise to meet his as he crouches and traces its lines with his fingers. "By the way, you never told me about yours."

"Ah, you mean the one on my shoulder and neck?" He pulls on the collar of his shirt, giving her a better view. Goosebumps erupt over his skin, his breath hitching, as she leans in to brush her thumb against it. "It's a wing. Partly for Mom, y'know, Robin, and partly for freedom. I dunno, I thought it was a cool concept at the time."

"I dig it. Cooler than mine, at least it's not super literal."

Sebastian flashes her a crooked smile. "Thanks. I have another, but, uh." He points to his hip, covered by his sleep pants. "It's here. A frog."

Sage beams and he feels heat tingeing his cheeks. "Sorry," she giggles, "I swear I'm not making fun of you. It's pretty cute how you love frogs so much."

And now he's definitely blushing. Clearing his throat, he covers her with a spare blanket. "Here." He slumps beside her. "Can I say something?"

Tossing him some of the covers, she nods. "Of course. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. It's just, tonight was fun. I felt like a little kid with you. I, uh, I didn't experience that much when I was young."

He tips his head, peering at her from the corner of his eye. It's an invitation, a hole in his walls. Sebastian's raw, his chest wrenched open as he waits for her reaction.

Sage's eyes soften. "I know what you mean. That wasn't really a thing for me either, except the few times I visited the Valley." 

She turns onto her side and studies him. "I felt it too. Like a little kid. Fun. Free." A wistful expression passes over her face. "For what it's worth...I'm glad you can be that way with me."

Swallowing hard, Sebastian mirrors her position. "Do I...do you experience that? With me, I mean."

"Experience what?"

He huffs. "I'm asking if you can be yourself. If you don't have to put on a front when you're with me."

"Oh. I've never had to put on a mask for you. I feel safe with you, Sebastian." Her gaze burns into his. "That's another thing I didn't get much of growing up."

One of his few fond childhood memories resurfaces, imprinted in his mind. He was five or six, and a biting chill had gripped Zuzu. Robin swaddled him in blankets, snug in her arms, and read How The Grinch Stole Christmas. When the Grinch's heart grew three sizes, she'd clutched at her own, laughing and tickling his side.

His chest felt warm, then, and slightly tight, as if his heart were growing, too.

And now that warmth and tightness is back, spreading through his entire body as his friend, best friend if he's honest, tells him he makes her feel safe.

Slowly, they're revealing more to each other.

She leans on his shoulder, yawning. The scent of his body wash mixed with her skin wafts through the air, wreathing around them.

Ahh, fuck it.

Sebastian grabs the remote and turns on the TV, flipping stations until he lands on a movie. Before long, Sage's breathing slows, and she slips into sleep, resting on him, her face a mask of peace.

Haha, you're so fucked. You are so, so fucked.

Peering at her, so close he can count her eyelashes, he accepts it. Hell, maybe it’s not fucked at all, but something good. As gently as possible, he picks her up, settling her into the couch's cushions. He lingers as he tucks the blanket around her, brushing his curled fingers over her cheek.

From his bed, he watches her until his lids grow heavy, still warm, soft, and vulnerable. He sleeps better than he has in months.

[pbandjesse]

I had to leave from the music festival an hour early. I couldn't take the heat anymore. It was 105 in the heat index. And it was rough. But it was not a bad day. I had fun! I drank so many drinks!! I tried really hard to stay hydrated.

I slept really really hard last night. I struggled hardcore to write my post last night. I was falling asleep while writing it. So I apologize if I didn't make a ton of sense. I was really really struggling. And fell asleep almost immediately after posting it. I just remember saying okay goodnight to James and falling out hard.

When I woke up I was alright. Tired but not horribly so. I let myself sleep until 830. And when I got up I was kind of shaky. That would be a theme for the day.

I was having a hard time not being in the AC. We only have ac in our bedroom. Someday I hope we can add central air to our heating system. The furnace will need to be replaced in the next to couple years. We will save up for that and an ac after the fence and doors get fixed. And then we'll start working towards a deck and french doors in the backroom.

Once I was clean and dressed I would make sure my tote again had everything I might need and then some. Tiny fan. Frozen nalgene water bottle. Fake Stanley of ice water. Soda cup. Snackle box. Drink packets.

I would feed Crabcake and give Sweetp new water. I would soak on of my bandanas and would end up using it as a headband. Some cool was on the back of my neck. It would help a bit but the heat was unreal.

I would sit in the basement to stuff the new bears j made. I had hoped it would be cooler down there and it wasn't horribly hot but I was sweating and shaking but I would get them stuffed. I would sew them once I got my table set up.

I had a hashbrown for breakfast. And would leave at 930. And as soon as I left the house I was like. Oh shit. It's going to be very hot. It was already 94 degrees! I was worried but I was trying to be positive despite the shaking.

I got to the parking garage and things were going okay. I paid on the app. I got a spot on the second level. Things seemed okay.

Except the I couldn't figure out how to get out?? I was wandering around for almost ten minutes. The stairs were there but I couldn't bring my wagon up the stairs. And the elevators weren't working. I was trapped.

I finally just decided to go up the car ramp. They gave me no other option. I was sweaty and upset and not having a good time

Even though it was hot outside at least the air wasn't sitting and there was a little breeze. I got across the street without dropping anything. But when I got over there, after checking in with Kathleen, I heard someone yelling something. I had dropped a whole basket of beads and they were all over. Oops. I dropped off my wagon and went back for them. Another vender helped me put them back. And then I was just working on set up. It didn't take long. I have a pretty solid routine, even if the tables are different each time.

I would feel a little unprepared. I didn't have any tape or extra binder clips with me. Thankfully Kathleen would have painters tape ans jw ould make it work. And I was happy with my table. Once I was set up I would work on sewing the 12 bears. I would fall in love with some of them. But I decided I jeeded to keep this one red bear. I just loved him so much. Reminded me of Edwin. The bear I sleep with. And I would keep him in my cleavage all day. I would pour water in him to keep myself cool. That was the battle today. Staying cool as best I could.

I would make good sales. It wasn't the best day ever, mainly because the turnout wasn't amazing with how hot it was. But the people who were there were great. Telling me how cute my stuff was. People being so cute interacting. I liked the music too! And I felt like even if I didn't make a lot of sales I was just going to have a good day.

I finished all the bears within the first two hours. I was hot but I was trying my best to ignore it. I would finish my soda by 1130 and refilled that cup with water. My nalgene was mostly melted. I would end up refilling my soda cup three times and my fake Stanley twice. I would pour the nalgene water over my head twice. Just soaking myself to try and cool down. The mid afternoon was the worst part. But I troed to remain positive.

Meril was there running a booth for the museum. They wrote "what in heck is old time?". They forgot the "the". It was very funny to me. She was really sweet and shared one of her ice packs with me (she told me that she brought "every ice pack" she owned) and it would help but it would melt pretty fast. We were all trying our best.

There were some characters. People fighting but mainly it was calm and nice. I really enjoyed the music. And I was just knitting away all day. I would make 8 squares! Which brings me to 39 squares for my 144 square blanket. It's exciting to see it coming together.

I would start feeling a little insane. I would eat my snackle box. I would try to remain normal. I was having fun! But it was so hot.

Meril would leave at 4. She wished me luck. James would be done work soon after that and would come help me. Give me a break. I would get a little upset when they didn't come straight there. Instead biking the long way. I know they love biking but they had been in the AC all day and I had been locked to my table. It made me feel very frustrated and I knew I was on the verge of being irrational.

So when they did finally come I told them what I was feeling and they apologized and went to find me more water. Which was a struggle. They had taken the hydration station away to refill so James was just walking circles trying to find it. But they would eventually return it. And I had cold water again.

James would go and get me shake shack. Which I would end up dropping and was very sad. I would remove the parts that touched the ground and eat the safe parts.

James would get a falafel and fries and shared the fries which were very good. I would go on a little walk to see the other venders. I bought a little hip bag. But the other two things I liked were $65 so I decided to save my money. Maybe another time.

At 630 I was just so done. The sun had been creeping into my tent. I was hot and tired and I had drank so much water but never had to use the bathroom because I had been sweating so hard. James joked that the bear I had in my cleavage would only sell for $1 (for being sweaty and gross) or for $100 (for perverts). I wanted to make it through.

But I apparently looked so bad that even Kathleen said if I didn't feel safe I should pack up. And I took that seriously. We made one more sale of two of the blind bags (which would leave me withh one! We did so well!) and then packed up.

Packing up goes quick. I would make one stop to give a woman a business card who possibly wants to do a collaboration. I am hoping I get lots of people readhing out this week. About the teddy bear hospital and my workshops and classes. It was a really positive way to end the day. Even if I didn't feel like myself.

This honestly was an endurance test. I was just so done.

James pulled the wagon and I carried two baskets. And we had to go down the ramp because we couldn't figure out a different way. But we found the car fast. James loaded me up and gave me a kiss goodbye. They would walk back to their bike and I would drive home.

It was only 10 minutes but it felt like forever. When I got back here I got a good spot. And got inside.

I spent a few minutes checking on everything. Crabcake are all his food. Proud of him. I would let him walk around and would sing at him for a little. Sweetp let me hold him. And I fed the frogs. And soon after that James was coming in. And we were all together again.

I played a song I really like for James. Juno by Jesse Detor. And James put the dishes away. Watered the plants. And I went to take an everything shower.

An everything shower is hair washed, body scrubbed, shave, scrubbed again, conditioner. Then regular lotions and add in oils. I went all out. I even brought a fan into the bathroom so I didn't get sweaty after I got clean.

James would get me more water before they took their own shower. And when they were done they came and joined me in the sitting on the floor time I am having. They brought me a little leftover pasta from yesterday. I am glad I ate a little. I am ready to lay down now.

Tomorrow James had the day off with me!!! I am so excited about that. We are going to have brunch and go paint pottery and get laundry done and hopefully just have a really nice day.

I hope you all are staying cool. I love you all. Goodnight!!

[liviavanrouge]

Captured

Livia walked beside Mushko, looking around the town. The duo had temporarily split up from Mishki who went to grab supplies from a few nearby shops. They were in charge of food and Mushko had bought three bags loaded with food. "Glad you told me you eat fruit otherwise I'd have grabbed almost all meat"Mushko comments looking back at her. She nodded, carrying a paper bag filled with juice and some water bottles. The duo reached the invisible ship, Mushko pressing a button on his band. "Come on, set the stuff inside"Mushko beckons walking inside. He set the bags down inside a mini fridge, Livia placing the paper bag in a basket. A yawn followed when she sat down, Mushko placing a blanket over her as she fell asleep. "I'll keep watch..."Mushko whispers patting her arm. "Just sleep, we've traveled a long way."

Mushko sat on the stairs outside the ship, his arms crossed and eyes closed, leaning against the sliding door. "Brother!!" His eyes opened at the call, finding Mishki running over with several bags in hand. "I got a lot of on sale supplies!"Mishki cheered giggling. Mushko chuckled and smiles at her, standing up. He walked over, taking the bags then narrowed his eyes. "Password"Mushko mutters. "Wiggletum!"Mishki chuckles rolling her eyes. A smirk came from the elder twin and he walked into the ship, setting the bags aside as he began to unpack everything. He knelt down, placing three gallons of gas onto the bottom shelf, taking out oil as well. Mishki raised her hand, staring down at him intently. A hand bursted through Mishki's chest, her gasp making Mushko turn around. His eyes widened, a look of pure alarm on his face. "MISHKI!!!!"

Livia pulled her hand out, watching as Mishki turned to a puddle of grey slush. "What....she wasn't- that wasn't- WHERE'S MISHKI!??"Mushko mutters staring at the slush. "Big brother?" Mishki walked over, carrying a few bags. Mushko leapt off the ship, landing on his hands and knees. He scrambled up, running over and throwing his arms around her. "Mushko?"Mishki blinked confused. "A Copycat copied you, it nearly got me..."Mushko signed stepping back and shaking his head. Mishki looked towards the ship, finding Livia back asleep in her chair. "We gotta make a new password, come on let's get out of here"Mushko reminds. The twins hurried onto the ship, the door sliding shut behind them. Mishki walked over to Livia and carefully strapped the sleeping girl in and fixed the blanket. "Should I recline her seat?"Mishki asks.

Mushko nodded, pouring a bit of oil into a small space underneath the steering wheel. Mishki carefully reclined the seat back, enough to make sure the sleeping hybrid was comfortable. The ship started up, lifting into the air and taking off. Livias chest gently rose and fell in steady rhythm, her hair shimmering with colors. "Home?"Mishki asks making sure she was going the right way. "Yeah, home"Mushko nods continuing to work. Silence followed, the trio flying in silence through the air towards where Cyber City was located. Livia turned over, her back facing them. Mishki pressed a few buttons, looking focused on getting them all back home. The ship suddenly lurched when Mushko got up to grab a soda, a yell of surprise coming from him. "A MAGNET!!"

Mushko ran to a ladder, climbing up and lifting the emergency hatch, finding a smaller ship behind them with a giant magnet pulling them towards it. "WHAT IN THE NAME OF CYBERPUNK!?"Mushko yells alarmed to see such a large magnet. A figure flew out from the ship, coming full speed towards them. "Jessca!!!"Mushko yells looking livid. "Jessca from your high school!? That Jessca!?"Mishki calls doing everything she can to free them. She snagged a pair of headphones when Livia stirred to awaken due to the noise. She placed the headphones over Livias ears and made sure she was extra secure. She rushed away, hurrying over to the steering wheel again, getting back to work on setting them free. "Come on, come in, come on!"Mishki pleaded. She screamed in surprise when the ship tilted slightly, the sound of thudding feet coming from above her on the roof.

Mushko dodged Jessca, deflecting any attacks she sends his way then tossing her back away from him to put distance between them. He snatched out his plasma blade and launched himself forward, slicing Jessca's side. He ducked under her plasma bullets and sliced the gun in half. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? WE TOLD YOU OUR PLAN!!"Mushko yells. "Protecting her will kill more people! We need to copy her and create an army to take out the Copycats!!"Jessca yells glaring at him as she fired plasma bullets. He dodged the incoming bullets, leaping to the left then rolling underneath another storm of glowing bullets. He ran around her, then launched himself forward aiming at her back. "THAT'D SHORTEN HER LIFESPAN!!!"Mushko snapped. Jessca grabbed his wrist, brought him up and over her head, slamming him back forward into the ships roof. "She should be honored to save Cyber City"Jessca retorts lowly, kicking him into the water below them. A splash sounded, Mushko sinking into the darkness of the ocean. "MUSHKO!!!"Mishki screamed her eyes wide, standing not far from Jessca.

"This is the Cyber Gods will, Mishki! He wants us to use the hybrid! To copy and build an army!!"Jessca explains turning to her and stepping closer. Mishki stared down at the ocean, her hands trembling. "Mishki hand her over and you'll be a hero of our god!" Her eyes closed, her fists trembling as Jessca moved to step around her. "FUCK YOU AND YOUR GOD YOU DAMNED PRIESTESS!!" Mishki punched Jessca in the stomach and tossed her into the ocean. "TELL THE CYBER GOD HE CAN COME DOWN HERE AND KISS MY ASS!!"Mishki yells shocking Jessca. A figure dove past her, his hand outstretched towards the falling woman. Kasen grabbed Jessca's hand, lifting back into the air. "I'll take care of the younger sister"Kasen nods. He tossed Jessca up and landed right behind her. He tackled Mishki down, pinning her to the roof.

"It has to be done!!"Kasen yells pinning her arms above her head. Mishki spit in his face and shrieked, kicking her legs. Jessca climbed down the ladder, looking around curiously. "Bullseye." A bullet fired through her chest, her eyes wide as she nearly fell over. "Jessca!? Are you okay!??" A black haired male with a long braid reaching down to his waist stood there when Jessca turned around, a plasma gun in his hand aimed at her chest. He pressed a button, closing the emergency hatch so Kasen wouldn't hear the next shot. "Didn't think....you'd be working with them Mushiko, I thought you were supposed...to be the smart baby brother..."Jessca coughed. Mushiko stayed silent, glaring at her. "NOW!!!"

Hands grabbed Jessca and slammed her face first into the wall. Livia scowled and her foot flew up, kicking the priestess right in the back, a cracking sound following. Mushiko dove down, Jessca flying past his head when Livia delivered another kick. "Come on! FIGHT BACK!!" You had no problem before!!"Livia tells punching Jessica right in the face. Mushiko jumped in, both delivering punches and kicks, knocking Jessca around as if she was a mere ragdoll. Mushiko punched her, Livia following it with a kick to the woman's abdomen. A fired shot came from behind them, Mushko stumbling as he looked down. He fell over, Livia whirling around to find Kasen standing there, an unconscious Mishki over his shoulder. "Move and I'll shoot"Kasen threatens. The door slid open, Mushko coming into view. "SURPRISE BASTARD!!!"

He knocked Mishki away and grabbed Kasen, throwing them both out of the ship back towards the water below. "MUSHKO!!!" Livia hurried to pop her head out, then gasped as a giant hand came from the ocean, Mushko standing in the palm of it. He winked at her, grinning then turned around with the hand, heading to disable the magnet. He froze and whirled around, looking horrified. "WAIT! LIVIA, DON'T LET THAT WITCH TOUCH YOU!!!" Livia gasped, alarmed that there was a third person on their way. "THERE'S A WITCH!!?"Livia demanded shocked. A hand grabbed her arm, her eyes darting back. Jessica coughed up blood, her eyes glowing. "Gotcha"Jessca mutters. Her eyes widened when she realized who the witch was now. Jessca was the witch. A witch priestess. Livia swayed, and fell unconscious on the floor, laying on her side. Mishki let out a strained whimper, reaching for Livia then fell faced down unconscious. Jessca panted, wheezing slight then fell over onto her back, closing her eyes.

Mushko hurried towards the magnet then gasped when something flew through the air. He looked back towards the slash on his back, finding Kasen staring him down with a look filled with absolute no regret. Mushko stumbled then gasped when the sword pierced through his chest. His legs gave out beneath him, Kasen snatching the sword out of him, sending him crumpling to the ground of the floating robotic hand. Kasen coughed, falling to his knees, dropping his sword. "Jessca..."Kasen coughed lifting into the air on a machine shaped like a wolf. He landed in the ship, staring at Livia. He kicked her right in the face, sending her rolling over onto her back. "Should've came quietly, you silly hybrid!"Kasen spat. He snatched Livia up, tossing her onto his mechanical wolf. He turned and carefully picked up Jessca, and climbed onto the wolves back, taking off into the air back to the ship. Mishki pushed herself up, starting to pull herself up using some of the ships furniture. "Livia...Livia, we're coming, just let me grab Musko"Mishki wheezed staggering to her seat. "We're coming..."

~~~~~~

Livia opened her eyes, finding herself in an open space. She started to walk forward, her hair gently swaying behind her. "Where am I?"Livia asks. "The Cyber Mind." Livia whipped around in alarm, snarling at the sight of Jessca standing there. "Our god wishes for your help-"Jessca begins. "What's your gods pronouns?"Livia interrupts. "He, they, him"Jessca answers surprised. "HE CAN COME DOWN HERE AND THEY CAN KISS MY ASS ALL OVER!!"Livia snapped flipping her off. Laughter startled her at Jessca's offended expression. Her body whirled around at the sound, finding a smirking her there. "Hello Zivia"Jessca greets coldly. Zivia laughed, smiling smugly at Livia. "You're...A COPYCAT!!!!"Livia yells shocked. Zivia chuckled, smirking at her once again. "I'm the first and only one that was able to copy you, Livia, and my how much FUN it has been for me...now let's chat"Zivia cackles a malicious glint in her eyes. Zivia's eyes started to narrow, a more malicious expression appearing on her face.

@queen-of-twisted @zexal-club @yukii0nna @teddymochi @soulfungai

[missvelvetsstuff]

With Friends Like You, Who Needs Enemies?

Steve Rogers x Reader, Steve x Nat, Reader x ?????

Prologue

Chapter 1

Note: idk if I like this story but I have to get it out of my head, probably 2-3 chapters left after this one. Feedback is greatly appreciated.

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

After Y/N had slept for almost 24 hours and eaten enough to fill her up, Nat approached her in the kitchen.

"Tony is having a party tonite, to celebrate finding Loki's scepter. He gave me his credit card so do you want to go get a dress for tonite? And maybe some clothes so you aren't stuck in Avengers sweats all the time? We can have lunch and get our hair and nails done as well." She smirked "We can find a blue dress for you, it's Steve's favorite color."

Y/N felt her face flush "Why would I be worried about what Steve likes?"

Nat grinned "I'm a spy, I know how to read people and both of you are giving off some serious vibes. Trust me, he's into you too."

Y/N shrugged "I don't know what you're talking about but I do need some clothes and I've never had a real haircut. I just chop it off when it gets too long." She thought for a minute "Sure, sounds like fun."

They left the tower in one of Tony's cars that Nat borrowed. Driving around Manhattan Y/N felt overwhelmed but something was familiar as well.

"This is all so much. I haven't even left the facility where you found me in years."

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it pretty quickly" Nat told her as they pulled into a parking garage on 5th Ave. "Having access to Starks credit and cars definitely helps." She parked and they got out of the car and walked into Saks.

Nat headed straight for evening wear and started looking through the racks when a sales person approached them.

"Ms Romanoff, it's so good to have you here again. I see you've brought a friend" she looked Y/N up and down, sneering slightly at her attire. "I can see she needs our help. What are you looking for today?"

Nat glared at her "We're looking for someone who won't be a bitch because of how we look. Do you have anyone here like that?"

The sales girl, her tag said her name was Sophia, blanched "I'm so sorry, Ms Romanoff, I was just caught off guard. Of course I'm happy to help you in whatever way you need.

Are you looking for a cocktail dress?"

Nat smirked "Yes, Tony is having a party tonite and my friend needs an appropriate dress. Something blue."

Sophia stuttered "Tony Stark? How exciting. Why don't you and Miss...."

"Y/L/N, I'm Y/N Y/L/N"

"Of course. What size do you usually wear Miss Y/L/N?"

Y/N flushed "I don't know, I haven't gotten myself new clothes in ages"

Sophia pulled out a tape measure "Well lets see..." And quickly took her measurements. "A size 7 should fit nicely. I have some dresses that would be perfect for you. Please have a seat and I'll have them brought over.

Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, water, tea, soda, champagne?"

Nat nodded "Some champagne would be nice. And none of the cheap stuff."

They spent an hour looking at dresses until they narrowed it down to 3. All shades of blue. Y/N tried them all on and was overwhelmed when she saw herself in the mirror, she felt like a princess.

"I can't choose, they're all so pretty. What do you think, Nat?"

"I agree, it's too hard to choose so we'll get all three. Tony loves throwing parties so you can never be too prepared." Nat replied

Y/N shook her head "I couldn't, that's too much"

Nat laughed "too much should be Tony's middle name. Don't worry about it." She turned to Sophia "what about accessories?"

4 hours later they had all 3 dresses and accessories for each one, plus enough everyday and business style clothes to last a year. And shoes and lingerie. Nat gave Sophia a stern order to make sure it was all delivered to the tower before 4pm. Then they went for hair, makeup and mani-pedi's.

Y/N didn't know how to process everything that was happening. Less than 72 hours ago she was in her cell with no inkling that her life would change so drastically.

"Thank you so much, Nat. I just...."

Nat smirked "Don't worry about it. I have a feeling you're going to feel right at home before too long."

They went back to the tower after a late lunch and finished getting ready. At 9pm they took the elevator to the penthouse where the party was already going full swing.

Nat led her to the bar and poured a glass of champagne for both of them.

Y/N just looked around, watching people, unsure of how to interact.

Steve and Sam were playing pool when Sam noticed Steve was staring at something by the bar.

"You checking out Nat again? I thought that was over."

Steve shook his head "It never really was on, just occasional stress relief. Besides she has something going on with Bruce. Look next to her, in the blue dress. That's Y/N, we found her at the base where we found Loki's scepter. She's a mutant, turns sound into light. She was humming the other night and had this glow around her like a mist of colors. It was beautiful" he sighed.

Sam laughed "You sound smitten. Why don't you go talk to her?"

Steve blushed "I wouldn't know what to say."

"How about hey Y/N you look beautiful, wanna have my babies" Sam offered

Steve snorted "Give me a break.

It looks like Nat is busy with Bruce so I should go be a good host. Don't want to leave her alone with all these strangers. She's been a prisoner since she was a kid so might not be good socially."

Sam laughed as Steve walked away.

Y/N was looking out the window when Steve approached her. She turned and looked at him.

"It's a beautiful view"

Steve was staring at her and agreed "Yeah, it's gorgeous"

She saw he was looking at her and felt her face heat up. "So Nat said Tony throws parties like this all the time"

Steve nodded "This is actually pretty tame compared to some. Before he became Iron Man I think partying was his priority. It's still a favorite past time.

You must be overwhelmed with all this if Strucker kept you prisoner since you were 10. You'll get used to it. We are mostly a happy family." He smiled softly at her.

After the party died down the team sat around drinking and chatting. Most of them tried to pick up Thor's hammer and failed. Only Steve moved it at all but he still couldn't pick it up.

Then Ultron showed up and made a mess of everything. Y/N tried to use her powers to help fight him but was thrown against a wall and knocked out. After Ultron was gone, she came to and heard arguing. Steve helped her up and kept his hand on her back to help comfort her. Once the team decided on their course of action he took her to her room.

"I need you to stay here for now, ok? We'll be back as soon as we can" he told her gently.

Y/N shook her head "I can help. I could come with you and-"

"No" he told her firmly "We need to evaluate your abilities and work together before you get into any fights with us. I don't want you to get hurt so please be a good girl and wait here for me"

She felt a funny tingle when he called her a good girl but pushed it back "Ok. I'll wait here. Please come back safely."

"I promise, sweetheart" he kissed her softly on the lips and made sure she was safe in her room before he left.

While the team went to Africa to stop Ultron, Y/N was having dreams about Steve but with her lack of experience couldn't figure them out. The only sex she had was when Strucker forced himself on her and she thought she would never actually enjoy sex but her dreams said otherwise.

In the morning she saw what happened on the news and knew that it was Wanda messing with the Hulk. If she had been there she could have broken Wandas hex and prevented all that destruction and death.

She jumped when Jarvis spoke to her "Miss Y/N? You have a phone call from Captain Rogers."

"Umm ok how do I take the call?"

"I'll put him thru"

Steve's voice came thru the speakers in her room.

"Hey sweetheart, how are you? Did you get some sleep?"

"Hi Steve, I slept a little. I had strange dreams. My life has turned upside down.

Are you ok? I saw the news. Wanda was there wasn't she? If you had let me come I could have prevented-"

Steve cut her off "No. You don't even know if you could have helped Hulk. You aren't going on any missions any time soon.

I just wanted to let you know that we will be gone for awhile. After that mess we have to lay low. Just be a good girl and make sure you eat and sleep. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Y/N felt so helpless as she saw the teams adventures on the news. They went from Africa to Korea. She was frustrated and wanted to help but couldn't so waited for them, for Steve, to return.

When Tony and Bruce returned they barely noticed her and rushed into the lab to work on something.

Steve came to check on her and gave her a sweet kiss before she noticed the twins were with him.

Wanda looked at her "Hello Y/N. Nice to see you again"

Y/N was confused "Steve why are they here? They are nothing but trouble and can't be trusted."

Wanda cringed "I know we have done awful things to you in the past but we didn't realize how bad Strucker was, too caught up in our own rage and grief. I promise we won't hurt you. We want to help stop Ultron."

Y/N looked at Steve "If you are taking them then I should be able to go too. I can help."

Steve chuckled "I know you want to help honey but I don't think a light show will do any good."

She pouted "I can make lasers too. I hate staying here while you risk yourself. Please, Steve." She begged

Her begging did something to Steve but not something that would help in a fight. He was about to tell her no again when Clint walked by

"She's not wrong Cap we could use all the help we can get."

Steve gave in "Promise me you'll be careful. I'd hate to see you hurt."

Y/N didn't do too badly considering the circumstances. She even took out a few robots on her own, including the one that tried to get Pietro and a young boy he was protecting.

Sokovia was still destroyed but most of the people were saved. Sometimes you have to accept how things turn out.

~~~~~~~~~~

After a few days rest Y/N, Sam, Wanda and Pietro started training to become official Avengers.

Y/N and Steve started dating, taking things very slow since she was inexperienced and in no rush.

Nat was devastated that Bruce had disappeared and started spending a lot of time with Steve and Y/N. Every night he would walk Y/N to her room, kiss her good night and leave her on her own.

After a few weeks she noticed Steve and Nat seemed really close and she asked him about it.

Steve shook his head "You have nothing to worry about sweetheart. Nat and I are just friends. We've been thru some tough situations together but there's no romantic feelings. She's just lonely because she misses Bruce."

She nodded trusting him.

They went on like this for awhile until General Ross brought up the Sokovia Accords. She took Steve's side but he didn't want her involved in the fight so she made her way to the quinjet and waited for Steve and Bucky. She saw what Zemo did and the fight that came after but couldn't bring herself to hurt Tony so found herself waiting on the jet again.

Y/N went with them to Wakanda and then on the run with Steve and Sam. After months dating, Steve told her he loved her and then told her he had to leave for a couple of days to meet up with Nat for cash and intel. They met up every few weeks and he always came back in a lighter mood.

One time when he returned he asked Y/N for a favor

"I don't want to be separated but Shuri figured out how to remove Bucky's brainwashing and I want you to go help him. Just be a friend. He really likes you and I think it would be good for both of you. You're the only one I can ask, he has bad history with Sam and Nat. I promise I'll come visit when I can."

She looked at him sadly, not wanting to leave the man she had fallen in love with but wanting to make him happy and be his good girl so she went to Wakanda.

Y/N and Bucky became close friends. She didn't mind if he didn't want to talk and they would just be together. If he did want to talk she listened without judgement and she was there for his nightmares. She helped him tend his goats and thought she could have fallen for him if she hadn't met Steve first.

A couple of times a week Steve would call to check up on her but it was always brief because Nat always called him away after a few minutes. He kept promising he would come visit but something always came up.

One day, Shuri showed up at Bucky's hut where Bucky and Y/N were playing chess."I have news, Captain Rogers contacted me and told me to tell you, Thor and Hulk have returned. Asgard was destroyed and all of the Asgardians that survived are here, setting up a home in Norway. New Asgard.

That's not all, the Captain and Tony Stark have worked things out with Gen Ross and Sargeant Barnes is being pardoned. You can go home soon, back to the states but there will be a celebration in New Asgard in a month.

Y/N wondered why Steve didn't call her and went thru Shuri instead but she was trusting and believed he just had too much to do.

Y/N and Bucky spent the next month as they had spent time in the past, strengthening their friendship, enjoying nature and herding goats. They both expected Steve to show up at any time but he never did. He only called once and explained that he was very busy helping Thor and Valkyrie set the new town up. Y/N told him they could help but Steve insisted they stay in Wakanda.

Finally it was time to leave, both of them were excited at being reunited with Steve but also nervous at meeting a whole new group of people.

Steve came in the quinjet to pick them up and after a quick hug and kiss on the cheek he spent the rest of the flight talking to Bucky. Y/N realized they were best friends but she had hoped for a better reunion with her love. She sat alone trying to talk herself down from the anxiety that was building up.

When they arrived in New Asgard the whole team was there to greet them. Nat and Bruce were wrapped around each other while Wanda and Vision were holding hands. Steve was suddenly in a bad mood right after they landed and left saying he just needed to work it off. Nat disappeared shortly after.

Thor gave Y/N a fond greeting and introduced her to Val. They took her and Bucky to a dressmaker to create Asgardian style robes for the celebration the next night. Steve didn't come to see her at all so she figured he was still busy helping and she stayed up talking to Bucky until they were both exhausted and fell asleep in the early hours of the morning.

Chapter 2

[foodfromaroundeverywhere]

Hell's Kitchen Minneapolis

Accessibility: 9.5/10 (but that may be my own fault)

Wait Time:

-Getting in: 0 Min (w/reservation)

-Introduction: 5-7 min

-Food: (app: ~6 min/entrée: ~4 min after that)

-Check: ~10 min after done with food

Staff: 10/10

Atmosphere: 10/10

Food: 10/10

Price: $70.34 ($54.57 in gift shop)

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

Hell's Kitchen (not associated w/Gordon Ramsey) is an underground restaurant located in Minneapolis, Minnesota. It is a 100% employee owned establishment (since 2020) with their 15% service fee (20% for pickup/take-out) going back, in full, to their employees.

They have a wide selection of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages with a lot of their drink infusions being house-made and their taps from local tapestries.

In the F&Q on their site, they give full instructions on what to do if you are in a wheelchair and need accommodation options. When getting into the building, I had gone in the completely wrong direction, going towards their cafeteria instead of the actual restaurant. This may have been at my own fault, so take the accessibility rating at a grain of salt.

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

So for my drink, I got the non-alcoholic 'Berry & Thyme Spritz'. This drink combined the herbaceous flavors of thyme with the sweeter notes of berry (which berries? I'm not sure.) All topped off with soda water. This drink was delicious with a price of $6.95. Now, some may think that this is a hefty price for a drink, but since this establishment is employee owned, I feel as though the price is justified. 9.7/10

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

I had gone to the restaurant with my mom, so for our appetizer, we got the 'State Fair Cheese Curds' for $9.95. Being from the state of all things cheese, these curds held up against many of the cheese curds I've had before, being served with a sweet and spicy red pepper jelly. The only issue I have with the dish is that there weren't many cheese curds. It was enough for two people but any more than that, and I feel it wouldn't have been enough. 9/10

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

For the main entrée, I got the 'Street Style Tacos' for $12.95 which comes with the choices of chicken tinga or mojo pork and salsa rojo or salsa verde. I got the mojo pork and the salsa verde as my choices, and it was delicious! The tacos themselves were very filling, but I feel like the meat was lacking the lime-herb sauce they advertised the pork to be 'smothered' in, the meat was dry and I had to keep reaching for my drink. The salsa verde was the perfect amount of spicy, and the queso added the smallest kick to the tacos also. 8.8/10

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

After the meal, my mom and I went to the small gift shop located next to the FOH. There, I was able to get a shirt ($19), a mug (14), and two 10-oz jars of their homemade peanut butter ($10 with a BOGO sale) The shirt is amazing quality, the peanut butter being just the right amount of chunky, and the mug having the GREATEST slogan being "Don't F##k It Up!" Which is a nod to their late owner's saying.

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

Overall, Hell's Kitchen is a great place to go to if you want a nice sit-down dining experience. They have a LOT more going on the weekends, so if you want to stop in, I recommend doing it on a weekend instead of a weekday! This place gets a big stamp of approval from me!

[college-girl199328]

After a long and hard road battling personal demons, beverage maker Kirk Buxton has learned to trust his gut the founder of Kirk’s Probiotic Soda, a fizzy drink made in North Vancouver that’s formulated to taste great while providing the microbiome-boosting benefits of fermented kefir.

What started six years ago with $100, enough to buy jars at Ikea and fill them with a brew made in his home, has grown into a business that’s expected to do nearly $1 million in sales over the next 12 months. Buxton’s bottles of soda are available in small independent markets as well as large grocery chains, including Save-On-Foods and the Real Canadian Superstore. On the side of the 330-milliliter bottles are the words “trust your gut” in bold lettering.

Buxton says his life passion is using food to help people. Similarly, the driving force behind his soda brand is to alleviate digestive problems, he said determination to promote a healthy lifestyle wasn’t always top of mind.

After years in the throes of heroin and fentanyl abuse, on the evening of March 10, 2017, Buxton was determined to end his life. Driving along the Sea to Sky highway, he took off his seatbelt and sped into a wall of solid rock white.

Buxton felt relieved that it was all over – until he heard the jarring sound of a tire spinning by his head. He was alive, and upside down.

At the hospital, Buxton expected to be stigmatized for his suicide attempt. Instead, the medical staff treated him with compassion. “I’m still friends with the nurse today,” he said mother at the foot of his bed, lost in a tangle of documents trying to put his financial life back together, was a turning point.

Buxton went into recovery and was soon working as a chef at a men’s treatment center. Even though he was clean, years of putting harmful substances in his body had wreaked havoc on his digestive system.

Reflecting on his personal belief that food is medicine, he decided to trust his gut. Coincidentally, the mother of his recovery roommate was making a drink from fermenting kefir grains. She gave him some of those grains. And after a bit of research, Buxton started making it in his home.

Working in the treatment center, he started giving out kefir water to his friends in the neighborhood, mostly in recovery themselves. Pretty quickly, they started asking if they could buy it from him and started selling two-liter growlers, and it grew from there.

Production of his kefir sodas started out of a shared kitchen in 2020, then moved to a kombucha-making facility. In October 2022, Kirk’s Probiotic Soda moved to its own dedicated production space in North Vancouver, where Buxton grew up his sodas have been bubbling over. Revenues were around $200,000 in the past 12 months, and are on track to hit $1,000,000 over the next 12.

With a background in sales, his brother Ken Buxton has been getting the drinks on shelves all over town. Hollyburn Country Club was one of their first clients, along with City Avenue Markets. With continued momentum, Kirk’s now has deals with big distributors like Horizon Grocery + Wellness and has also stayed connected to the local community, sponsoring Altitude Football Club and doing events for organizations like North Shore Winter Club.

[nickgerlich]

Foam On The Range

The history of beer in the US is an interesting one. In the 1870s, there were more than 4000 breweries, their sheer numbers virtually guaranteed success if only because distribution as we know it today did not exist. These 4000+ may not have been able to maximize sales by virtue of reach, but they sure could have a grip on a local market. That limited their size, kind of like the corner market, but they could still carve out a living.

In the decades that followed, some of these consolidated, while others succumbed to growing temperance movements. By 1920 and the enactment of Prohibition, there were 1500 breweries. But Prohibition was like an extended pandemic, and breweries had to pivot in order to survive. Some turned to selling ice, brewing sodas or “near beers,” or whatever it took to hang on. By 1933 and the repeal of the 18th amendment, only 700 remained.

Then the numbers began to tumble more. By 1950 there were only 407, and 11 years later, that number was down to 230. Once again, consolidations were the cause of some of these, but others simply went under. In any regard, brands like Schlitz, Pabst, Budweiser, and Black Label started becoming mega-brands with outsized market shares, leaving the others to fight for the crumbs.

By 1980, that number was down to 101, with a handful of large brewers grabbing the majority of market share. It was a bad time to be a small brewer, because as the market had evolved with power in the hands of the few, it meant that getting distribution was increasingly difficult.

But in the 1970s, Anchor Brewing in San Francisco staged a revival of the historic brand, reformulated its flagship beer, and became the first craft brewery in the US. It would take quite a few years for the notion to catch on, but in the last two decades, the genre has exploded. Today, there are more than 9500 craft breweries, with no sign of that number turning around.

And yet beer sales in the US are not just flat, they have actually been creeping downward. Having so many breweries is like having 9500 uninvited guests show up for dinner, and you have to add a lot of water to the spaghetti sauce to help spread it around.

All of which means that craft breweries not only have to have great product, but also know a thing or two about their consumers. After all, in a declining market characterized by increasing numbers of producers, the spoils will likely go to the smartest and best. Founders Brewing Company in Michigan is aiming to do just that.

It’s a messy marketing scenario, because distribution is very difficult. There is a finite amount of shelf space in stores, and a finite number of tap handles at bars. Further complicating matters is the promiscuity of craft beer drinkers who love to drink around, loyal to the craft, but not anywhere near as likely to be loyal to one particular brand.

About the best a craft brewery can hope for is loyalty to the local brewery, but even that can be wishful thinking in cities like Albuquerque, with more than 30 breweries. You could do one a day for a month.

Thanks to basic market research, Founders is trying to do a better job predicting which styles of beer will be popular, and with whom. That’s no small task, especially when many brewers feel it is imperative to continually roll out new varietals. Rather than leave it to gut and instinct, Founders is relying on cold, hard data, the way large consumer packaged goods manufacturers do it.

I guess you could almost say that Founders went to business school.

While new products will still be a part of Founders, the emphasis now will be customer-driven rather than product-driven. For Founders, which is a large regional production brewery with widespread distribution, that means not just tracking sales by the barrel, cans, and bottles, but also trying to put faces to those sales. Who is buying the hazy IPAs? Who is drinking the fruited sours? Who prefers the Mexican Lager? Are women drinking beer in a market characterized as male-dominant?

And just like a firm trying to write its strategic plan, this is not a one-and-done. It must be done continually, because tastes���like strategies—change over time. The trend toward IPAs in the last decade could easily fade, but your guess is as good as mine as to what its replacement might be.

At the local level, craft breweries need to monitor not just the usual volume figures, but also try to implement their own CRM—Customer Relationship Management—programs. It’s not easy, especially when beyond those numbers, about the best they can hope for is a bunch of anecdotes and the collective wisdom of the bartenders. It’s nice when I go into Pondaseta in Amarillo, and all the servers know my name and know that I like their I-40 IPA, but ideally they should be tracking things better than that.

I’m thinking an incentivized program that finds customers gamifying their consumption in return for swag, all the while the brewery harvesting reams of valuable data. Oh, and done responsibly, of course.

The end game for any marketing company is to have customer profiles, including demographics and psychographics. While Pondaseta can’t brew new varietals just for me, they could certainly lean on data to help them create new ones for specific groups of customers. That’s a lot better than the owners waking up one day and saying, “Hey, let’s try this…”

Hats off to Founders for taking craft brewing to a new level. It’s not going to be easy studying such fickle, variety-seeking customers, but it has to be done. And it will be even harder for the smallest of the small to do this because they lack proper resources.

Because there really is a limit to how many craft breweries the US can support. We can’t just drink more because there is more beer available, no matter how good it may be.

Dr “Feeling Hoptimistic” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[bizznapopblogs]

The Advent Of Popcorn And Its Proliferation In The Theatre Market: From The Best Popcorn Kernel Suppliers!

Apart from movies, what comes to your mind when you hear the word “Cinema”?

It must be “Popcorn”. Did you feel the aroma of it just by taking its name? You must have. The word “Pop” is already attached to it so no one needs to know how popular Popcorns are. 

The history of popcorn dates back thousands of years. The oldest ears of popcorn found in the caves of Mexico in around 1950 are at least 5000 years old. 

Pieces of evidence have shown the existence of popcorn in Peru, Guatemala and other south places in South America. Apart from eating these delicious treats, Aztecs also used popcorn in ceremonies and decorating clothes.

This explains why popcorn is a big part of the culture of Mexico and other South American countries like Brazil and Argentina. 

Although the popcorn we know now did not always look like this. Earlier, popcorn was made by cooking dried kernels in a frying pan, making them look like parched corn in which kernels with considerably less water were used to curb its ability to pop. Before the popcorn machine was introduced people used to make popcorn on a stove or fireplace. The popularity of popcorn increased when it became more accessible with Charles Cretor inventing the popcorn maker in 1890 and it was at its peak of popularity till the Great Depression.  While other concession items saw a dip in sales during the Depression, the sales of popcorn increased and one of the main reasons for its increased popularity was Popcorn’s introduction in Theatres. The love story you now see of Popcorn and movies was not always like this. In the early 1920s, many new movie theatres opened in America which saw an uprise in attendance reaching 25 million movie-goers. At the onset, many theatre owners refused to sell popcorn inside their theatres. They also greatly restricted popcorn, soda and other snacks inside their theatres. They felt popcorns were too messy and would ruin the fancy atmosphere they were creating inside the theatre. But as someone said, “You can’t fight fate”. The fate of the popcorn was already decided. Vendors saw this as an opportunity and started setting up popcorn poppers to sell popcorn to patrons going inside the theatre. Theatre owners slowly understood the business and the demand for popcorn was such that they started selling popcorn inside their theatres. Theatre owners who refused to do so quickly went out of business and had to pull the screens down! As the best popcorn kernel supplier in South India today, we can say that we have continued the love tales of movies and popcorn, thus providing high-quality popcorn kernels that produce delicious popcorn which stays with you all the way when you smile with joy or cry in tears during the screening of a movie.

What makes us stand out?

Bizznapop offers the best American popcorn kernels, both mushroom and butterfly variants. We offer kernels in different proportions and quantities making it easy for every vendor, business and stall owner to order the amount they need. We don’t stop at only providing popcorn kernels. We also offer popcorn tubs and boxes in different sizes ranging from small individual tubs to large boxes, concession equipment, trays and more. Our classic popcorn boxes and tubs have made their way into almost all the popular theatres, and we are still growing. Everyone has distinct taste buds, thus we offer a range of popcorn seasonings. From classic butter and salt to cheese, and even spicy, we cater to every tongue. We also offer a range of popcorn premixes and popcorn seasoning so you don’t miss out on the joy of getting the same theatre-like taste while watching a movie or web show in the comfort of your home. Apart from selling popcorn kernels, Bizznapop is also one of the biggest frozen food distributors across Karnataka and South India.

Look out for our article on numerous avenues for businesses at the theatres apart from Popcorn. We offer the entire range.

Bizznapop imports popcorn kernels from Argentina, Brazil, the USA and South Africa. These countries have been attached to popcorn for a long time and are now a part of their culture. We boast of the crunch and the flavour that melts within to burst flavours and delight the heart on every bite. So next time when you eat those fluffy delicious popcorn inside the theatres, do remember us and smile. We love to see you filled with joy. Contact us to learn more about Popcorn kernels. Let’s continue this love story between Popcorn and movies. 

[sluttywonwoo]

repent || k.mg x reader

Summary: your one-night stand claims to be a vampire, but you’re just trying to get some dick

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, religious imagery, blood, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut

Word Count: 2.3k

masterlist // ko-fi

additional warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, degradation

“Are you just going to stand there?”

Mingyu shifted awkwardly from the other side of your door with his hands in his pockets. “You haven’t invited me in.”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling. “Please, come in.” You stepped out of the way and gestured with your arm for him to enter. “I figured the invitation was implied when I asked you to come home with me.”

Mingyu stepped over the threshold finally and shrugged off his coat, hanging it on one of the hooks by the door. 

“Nothing wrong with being polite,” he said. 

“Whatever you say.” 

You kicked off your heels and strode into the kitchen with Mingyu following not far behind you. You opened the fridge and searched the mostly empty shelves wordlessly, turning to face your guest when you felt his presence over your shoulder. 

He was leaning against your kitchen island, watching you with an amused gleam in his eye. 

“Are you thirsty?” you asked, “I’ve got wine.” 

“What kind?” 

“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re a wine snob,” you groaned. “I only buy whatever’s on sale at the grocery store.”

“I just meant, red or white?”

You spun back around to the fridge to check. “I’ve got Rosé? And… I have a sparkling red?” 

“The red sounds perfect.”

You picked out the bottle and shut the fridge behind you, using your free hand to grab a corkscrew from your junk drawer. You popped the bottle open with relative ease, but ran into a problem when you went to fetch the wine glasses. They were on the very top shelf in the dining room and you were just a little too short to reach them. Your white wine glasses were on the shelf beneath, easily in your reach. But you wanted to impress Mingyu, and you figured you couldn’t do that if you tried serving red wine in glasses meant for white wine. You usually drank out of an assortment of glasses you’d stolen from various restaurants and bars, but again, explaining that you’re a bit of a kleptomaniac when you’re drunk was not exactly making a good first impression. 

You didn’t even hear Mingyu approach you from behind. His cold hands on your waist were what alerted you of his presence and made you stumble back into him in surprise. He was quick to steady you, bracing you against his chest. You spun around, clutching a hand to your heart as you recovered from the near heart attack he gave you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, grinning sheepishly. 

“Then why did you sneak up on me?”

“I didn’t! You’re the one who didn’t hear me.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?”

Mingyu took a deep breath and licked his lips in frustration. “I came over here to see if you needed any help, which clearly you do.” 

He brushed past you and grabbed two wine glasses from the shelf, barely extending his arm to reach them. He handed them to you and smirked, retreating to the kitchen with you on his heels. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, but you tried to appear unbothered as you poured a glass of wine for Mingyu and yourself. 

The liquid courage from the club was already starting to wear off and you knew you’d need a little more confidence before you went any further. You downed your first glass in a matter of minutes and were about to pour yourself another when you noticed that Mingyu had barely touched his. 

“Are you okay?” you asked. “Do you not like the wine?”

“It’s fine, I’m just... craving something else.”

“Um, I have beer, water, I think I also have some soda.”

“That’s not quite what I meant, baby.”

-

“Fuck, Mingyu-” you were cut off mid sentence by a moan.

Mingyu had his head in between your thighs, tongue lapping at your clit. Any other sane person would have kicked him out of their apartment after he explained that he was a vampire, but you really didn’t give a fuck what he called himself. You just wanted to get laid. 

And to be honest, you’d slept with weirder guys. If Mingyu said he was a vampire, fuck it, you’d be his victim. As long as he made you cum. 

Your back arched off the bed as you felt him insert two fingers into your pussy, curling them upwards to your g-spot. You threw your head back on the pillow, crying his name as he began pumping them in and out of you. His fingers were long and slender and cold. He’d taken his rings off before he’d started fingering you, you’d watched him do it, but his fingers were still freezing, even sheathed to the knuckle inside your warm cunt. 

You didn’t mind it, though. It felt different, but not bad. 

He had you on the edge faster than you expected, fingers working you open as he nipped at your clit with his teeth. All it took for you to succumb to your pleasure was Mingyu flattening his tongue against your clit, soothing the throbbing ache he’d caused seconds earlier.

“I’m going to cum, fuck, I’m going to cum,” you whimpered.

Mingyu spurred you on, chuckling against your pussy as he massaged your g-spot with the pads of his fingers. You came around his fingers moments later, overwhelmed by pleasure. He helped you ride it out, gently stroking your thigh with his free hand as you trembled underneath him. 

When he finally came up for air his chin was glistening with your arousal and his hair was a mess from the way you’d pulled moments earlier. He licked his lips, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before using that same hand to push his hair back. His eyes were a shade darker than they had been when you’d asked him to come home with you, betraying a sense of hunger. 

You wanted to roll your eyes at the self-satisfied smile he was giving you, but you’d be lying if you said that his cockiness didn’t turn you on. 

“That was fast,” he said, eyes twinkling as he offered his fingers to you, inviting you to taste yourself.

You leaned forward and sucked the digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them to clean them thoroughly. Once you were happy with your work you let them slide past your lips with a pop and glanced up at Mingyu to gauge his reaction. 

“Probably those ‘vampire powers’ of yours,” you replied sarcastically. 

“Or maybe I’m just that good.”

“Or maybe I was picturing someone else to get myself off.”

His pretty smile faltered, and it was your turn to smirk. He scowled at you, hooking his hands beneath your thighs to pull you closer. 

“If that was the case,” he sneered, “why were you screaming my name?”

You shrugged. “I’m a good multitasker.”

“You think you’re funny, huh?”

“Hilarious.”

“Well, we’ll see who’s laughing at the end of the night, when I’ve fucked you so hard you can’t think of anyone but me.” 

“You’re right, we’ll see,” you taunted. 

Mingyu let you go and straightened up to unbutton his shirt. Once he was done he shrugged it off and tossed it into a corner of your room before moving on to his belt. You watched with butterflies in your stomach as he undid the buckle of his belt and then the button on his slacks. His pants and boxers joined his shirt in a pile on the floor and then he was back on top of you, giving you his full attention. 

“This needs to come off,” he said, referring to the red dress he’d simply bunched up around your waist when he’d gone down on you. 

He slipped one of the straps off your shoulder, then the other, then let his hands roam to your back where he unzipped the dress completely and let the fabric fall down to your hips. 

“Raise your arms.”

You did as you were told and let him pull your dress off over your head. He tossed it in the same general direction as his clothes and then gave you a once over, taking in your entire body. His gaze lingered on your neck, your collarbone, your shoulders. And then he was lowering himself over you, lining his cock up with your pussy. 

“You’re still okay with me feeding from you, right?” he asked, teasing you with the head of his cock.

“Um, yeah, go ahead.”

You’d been bitten before during sex, you figured this wouldn’t be much different, and if he drew a little blood you wouldn’t mind. You were kind of into the “vampire” roleplay if you were being honest. Most of your one-night stands were pretty vanilla, it was refreshing to be with someone kinkier than you. 

Mingyu smiled again and you caught a glimpse of his canines for the first time. They did look a lot like fangs, and they looked pretty sharp. But before you could worry about them he was pushing himself into you, kissing a spot on your neck before sinking his teeth into your skin as he bottomed out. 

“Shit!” you shouted, likely loud enough for your neighbors to hear. 

Mingyu groaned at the taste of you, rocking his hips into yours instinctively as he sucked at the spot on your neck. He pulled away when he heard you whine, concern written all over his face.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

It was then you realized that his eyes were glowing, well kind of. There was a ring of gold encircling his pupils, like a halo separating his iris from the center of his eye. You gasped, and it finally hit you that he hadn’t been lying about all that vampire shit. 

Suddenly the stinging sensation at the puncture wound on your neck began to ebb away, slowly being traded for pleasure. Your eyes rolled back as the feeling spread throughout your entire body, causing you to clench around Mingyu’s cock involuntarily.

“There you go,” he murmured, taking your spike in arousal as a good sign. “The venom just didn’t take right away. Probably because of the alcohol in your bloodstream.” He moved his hips again, testing the waters. “Are you okay?”

You nodded desperately, turning your head to the side so that he could easily access your neck. “More,” you begged, weakly meeting his thrusts as you tried to fuck yourself on his cock. 

“What’s the magic word?” Mingyu teased. 

“Please... please, Gyu.”

“Fuck, you sound so pretty, angel,” he growled.

You sighed in relief when he sank his fangs back into your throat, eyes fluttering shut as he fucked you through the initial discomfort of the bite. You were still sensitive from your first orgasm, but you couldn’t find it within you to care. The venom was making every single nerve in your body feel like it was on fire. You felt like you were burning from the inside, out, and it was euphoric. You chased the feeling, bringing one of your hands down to play with your clit. 

When Mingyu had had his fill he detached himself from your neck and pushed himself up on his elbows so that he could look you in the eyes as he fucked you. 

He looked ethereal, like a fallen angel, your blood dripping from the corner of his mouth onto the white sheets underneath you. 

“You taste so sweet,” he rasped. 

“My blood or my pussy?”

“Both.” 

Mingyu pushed your hand away and replaced it with his own, rubbing your clit between his fingers. You moaned and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. 

“Close?” he asked. You could only nod, not trusting your voice. “Gonna cum all over my cock, baby?” More nodding. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet. Gonna make a mess on the sheets? Scream my name?” 

“Yes!” you cried.

“Bet you’ll still beg for more after, won’t you? Insatiable little slut, you get a taste of venom and it’s all you can think about. I’m all you can think about.” He laughed wickedly and you felt yourself teetering on the edge. “Do you think you deserve to cum?”

“Wh-what?” You could already feel the tears threatening to fall if you weren’t allowed to cum. 

“Earlier you said you got off thinking about someone else while I was fingering you. Is that true?”

“No! No, I swear I was lying! I was just saying that to make you mad.”

“Promise?” 

“I promise!”

He pretended to consider it. “Beg for it.”

“Please, Mingyu, please I need to cum so bad, let me cum!” you babbled. 

He was still pounding into you like he wasn’t dangling your orgasm in front of you, like he expected you to be able to hold off if he told you no. 

“Cum for me, angel.”

You sobbed as your orgasm crashed into you. You grabbed Mingyu’s arms, gripping hard as your entire body tensed beneath him. 

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight,” Mingyu cursed as he felt you clenching around his cock, hissing through his teeth. “I’m close.”

“Cum inside me,” you pleaded weakly. 

You were still grinding down on him, riding out your high.

“You want me to cum in this tight fucking pussy of yours?” 

“Please...”

Mingyu’s hips stuttered as he came inside you with a groan of your name, head falling into your shoulder as he collapsed on top of you. He rolled off of you a moment later and pulled you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You were so good for me, angel,” he praised. 

“I don’t know if you should call me an angel after what we just did,” you scoffed, eyes already heavy with sleep.

“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” he pointed out. “You could always repent.”

You shook your head, causing Mingyu to furrow his brows in confusion. “I think I’d rather be damned with you if it means we can do this again.”

happy halloween!! lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback :))

forever tags: @hotgirlmingyu @hotgirlvernon @myunghoehoehoe @haven-core

send me an ask to be added/removed from a taglist

[pbandjesse]

We just had a stressful 20 minutes. Everything is fine now but man. Did not expect that! Sweetp tried to jump over the fence. We banished him into the house but then he pushed open the catio door?! Broke the caribeaner and was alone in the back!! And then in figuring out how to secure the door me and James were in the basement finding a drill bit and I accidently stepped on James's hand so hard they are icing it now. We are just killing it tonight.

Today was not nearly as stressful. It was mainly a really nice day. Mostly restful even if it was to hot.

I didn't sleep great though. I was not feeling amazing emotionally last night and was really upset. Which just made me frustrated with myself. And with James and with the world. So it wasn't the best sleep. And when I woke up I felt. Bleh. The sun was to bright. The world was to hot. But I went and got cleaned up and tried to feel better.

And I did. My hair was dirty and I was to hot. But I was having a nice day. Even if I was sweaty.

I continued to only want to eat Celeste pizzas. I would have my brownie from the farmers market. And then a little frozen pizza. I would spend the morning doing some stuff around the house. I did some cleaning. I moved the one rug from upstairs into the studio. I want to reassess the little room so I was thinking about moving things around in there.

I would try to deal with the heat with fans. I had one going upstairs and two downstairs. The backdoor open. Just trying my best to deal.

I had Ruby the Roomba going and she kept getting stuck today. But it was fine. I put her in the doorway pit because it was really dirty down there. There is a rug that goes in the pit and I will put that back soon. I want to look at peel and stick tiles for in there too though. I just hate the fake wood so much. It feels bad and it looks so cheap. But it's such a small area I am not super concerned about it. It's low on the list.

I would go out for a drive. I took myself to savers to walk around. I listened to music and enjoyed how full the shelves were. There were to many people and they are clearly reorganizing the store so there were a few aisles I couldn't access. But that's was fine.

I found a vintage house building kit I'm excited about. And a few pieces of clothing. Nothing super exciting but some basics and some things I think will be nice for work. Unsure once I tried them on but with some adjustments I think they will be excellent pieces.

I paid and folded all my things and went to the car. I was shocked at how overheated I was. I had brought a nalgene of ice water and it was the only thing keeping me going I swear.

I went to joann's next. They did not have the big eye needles I was looking for. So I would have to order those online. But they did in have a buy three get three sale on thread. I am running low on black and white so I grabbed some of those as well. The line took forever but it was fine.

I drove down the road to go to the goodwill. Which is not a good goodwill but I did find two excellent mirrors. One is a round one with a silver tray and floral details on the edges. And the other is a vintage catalog piece with shelves that I'm going to use for mugs. And they both were only $10 together!! Amazing.

I decided to indulge in a craving I have had and went to Sonic for mozzarella sticks. But I won't be doing that again. While they were good enough, the sauce was sour, and for 5 mozzarella sticks and a small soda it was almost $9??!! Insane.

I went home after that. I was to hot. And my ears were closing up again. Stupid allergies. It was nice to be home.

When I got back here I tried on the clothes. Mixed results but I have some ideas. I would have a snack and hang out with sweetp. Periodically I tried to do some little tasks. I mainly would work on a drawing for my teddy bear hospital and then worked on some research and planning for me and Mom's trip next year.

James would come home before 5. And after drying off would hang out on the couch with me for a bit. We would hang the mug shelf mirror. And learned how to use the Bissell cleaner we got as a house warming gift. There was a learning curve but I'm excited that we have this now. I want to try it for the seats in the car.

We would chill for a bit but soon James said we should go get groceries. And we did just that. (After working together to carry a shopping cart across the parking lot that had broken wheels) We got a little more then James had planned. Snacks and such. But I think we did good. Though we were twarted by an older woman who kept blocking entire aisles and then was in front of us at the only open register and took almost 15 minutes?? The people behind us were angry but I was just like. Confused. But it was fine. We didn't take nearly as long. Packed and paid. I was a little annoyed because James got the cheaper toilet paper and I felt mad. But it wasn't a really a big deal I was just tired and to hot and wanted to go home.

When we got back here James put thing away. And I would drag my rocking chair outside to enjoy the evening. James would bring a chair and a table out too. So they could be on their laptop while I was watching videos on my phone.

We both got a scare when Sweetp jumped on the fence. Scared both of so bad we jumped up and I grabbed him and put him inside.

We would stay outside without Sweetp. He would go in the catio and things would be fine.

Eventually we went back inside. And that's when I heard a sound and was like hmm. Weird.

Then a few minutes later I was like. Wait where is Sweetp. And that's when I saw he was outside on the other side of the catio!! He had pushed the door so hard he broke the lock!! I was so mad!

And like I said in the confusion and trying to fix the issue I stepped on James and felt so bad. But everyone is okay now. Sweetp is trying to hang out because he knows we're upset. But hopefully tomorrow we can try again and everything will be safe and no one tries to go over the fence!!

I cannot wait until we have a good fence and a better backdoor. Hopefully very very soon.

Tomorrow is memorial day! Me and James are going to their cousin's going away party in DC in the afternoon. It is supposed to be a rainy day. But that is okay. I am just hoping it is cooler.

Now though I am going to go wash my hair. Jamea is hanging the smaller mirror in our bedroom for me. I am tired and a little unsettled but I am okay. And I love you all. Goodnight my friends. Until tomorrow.

[pillage-and-lute]

Geralt attempts to bake cookies. That’s it that’s the prompt

Hi Cabbage-with-legs!

This is a Modern AU with Tired Dad! Geralt. + bonus pining

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

“Geralt? Geralt what’s all this.”

Geralt’s shoulders slumped and he scraped dejectedly at the blackened hockey pucks on the cookie pan. “Cookies.”

“I’ve seen charcoal briquets less black, dear heart. What’s this about?” Jaskier said, leaning his shoulder against his best friend.

Geralt sighed and leaned into the touch, hardly even registering Jaskier’s neon pink Hawaiian shirt. “PTA bake sale. They need me to bake something so I’m trying but, well...” Geralt shuffled a spatula under one pathetic hockey puck and flicked it into the trash.

“Lucky you,” Jaskier said. “I am a world class baker.”

“You burn water.”

“Cooking and baking are very different, my friend.”

“We aren’t friends,” Geralt huffed.

“Not if you keep up that attitude. How much food does the bake sale need?”

Geralt sat in a creaky chair and looked at the ugly yellow wallpaper of his kitchen. “They said anything helps, but the school is really underfunded, they need to make a lot of money off of this.”

Jaskier sat across from Geralt and bumped his foot against his friend’s boot. He smiled sadly. He saw Geralt almost every day, and Geralt never saw him, not really. He never looked at Jaskier and saw him.

It didn’t matter because Jaskier saw Geralt, and would continue to do so until Geralt threw him from his life.

“Alright,” Jaskier said standing up. “It’s Saturday, so Triss won’t have work, I’ll text her, she can bring by some bread.”

“Don’t bother her,” Geralt said.

“She’ll want to help. Yennefer too, she’ll bring something by the bake sale as well.”

None of them had much money, but baking, well, for Ciri they could all do something.

“You and I,” Jaskier said, “We’re going to bake up a storm.”

Geralt stood. “No, Jaskier. Go away.”

“No, you need my help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Fine,” Jaskier said, hand on one jutted hip, “Then take a bite out of one of those.” He nodded his head towards the blackened tray.

Geralt growled, but it was acquiescence. 

“Great,” Jaskier said. “Now, lets start this again.” He tidied up the kitchen, loading the dirty dishes into Geralt’s ancient dishwasher and pressing start. He knew Geralt’s kitchen as well as he knew his own. When Renfri had died and left Ciri and Geralt all by themselves he’d done all the cooking here. Geralt had just sat in the chair in the living room and wouldn’t let go of Ciri. Jaskier had practically hand fed him.

Triss had called it sitting Shiva, even though she was the only Jewish person among them. From what she’d told Jaskier, though, Geralt had been doing something similar, even if he didn’t know it.

Now, though, they both moved about the kitchen. Geralt measured flour and sugar as directed and patiently took the bowl of frosting Jaskier pressed into his hands, stirring as directed.

Jaskier moved around him, orbiting Geralt like he always did, adding almond extract and nutmeg and an extra dash of salt because Geralt used too little. At one point their little dance messed up and Jaskier placed one floury hand on Geralt’s chest to keep him from backing up against the open oven door. 

He looked at the dusty handprint on Geralt’s black hoodie, right over his heart. Geralt smiled softly.

“Thanks, I would have fallen right into the oven, there,” he said. 

Jaskier chuckled, “Yeah, Hansel, can’t eat you yet I have to fatten you up,” he poked Geralt in his rock hard abs. “You’d be awfully stringy.”

Geralt rumbled a laugh, deep in his chest. “I guess I’m not prime cannibal fodder, huh?” He crossed to the laptop, open to their recipe. “What’s next?”

“I’m sure there’s someone who’d take a bite out of you,” Jaskier said absently. “But we’re done with the cookies now that they’re in the oven, onto the cake.”

“We’re making a cake?” Geralt said. He looked in dismay at the cookies already in the oven.

“Unless you’d rather make the pies first,” Jaskier said. “And yes, we are. You and I are going to nail this PTA bake sale.” He watched the way Geralt sighed, the rise and fall of his shoulders, the little roll they did to loosen the tension. 

He patted Geralt on one such shoulder, looking into a pale hazel gaze. “Drink some coffee, we’ll be up a while.”

Geralt moved to start the coffee. “Is the--”

Jaskier handed him the little scoop that Geralt used to measure out his coffee and Geralt turned around to face Jaskier.

“You didn’t even know what I was going to say,” he said.

“I did, I know you.” Geralt stepped close and looked at Jaskier with lazer focus. 

Please, Jaskier thought. For once in your life just, see me. 

“You have flour in your hair,” Geralt said, then turned back to the coffeemaker.” 

Jaskier held in a sigh and began pulling up the recipe he liked for chocolate cake. “Do you have cocoa?” He asked. 

“Cupboard,” Geralt grunted. There where multiple cupboards in the kitchen, but Jaskier knew which one Geralt meant.

They descended again into their orbiting dance.

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

Morning dawned to find a messy kitchen and two men asleep at the kitchen table. Ciri looked around, registered the mountain of cookies and muffins, four pies and two cakes, then got herself cereal. Jaskier woke up, the seam of his sleeve had pressed into his face in his sleep.

“Have you kissed my dad yet?”

Jaskier blinked away sleep to see Ciri, still in her Wonder Woman pajamas, eating a bowl of coco puffs while standing in the middle of the kitchen. He made to stand to give her the chair, but she shook her head.

“Stay put, you must’ve worked hard. When I went to bed Dad had just burned his second batch of cookies. I repeat, have you kissed my dad yet?”

“Um, no.”

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t want to kiss me,” Jaskier said. “He looks right through me.”

“Hmmm,” Ciri said. It was so like her father that Jaskier had to smile.

“Hello darling,” Triss said, closing the door with her foot behind her. “Jas, you’re up, I figured you’d be asleep...oh,” she glanced at Geralt, conked out on the table, then looked at the pile of baked goods. “Nice job, I brought Challah, soda bread, and Irish brown bread.”

Jaskier stood and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, I appreciate it, Triss.”

“Aunt Triss,” Ciri said. “Do you think my dad wants to kiss Jaskier?”

“Of course, why?”

“He doesn’t even really know I exist,” Jaskier said. 

“He does too.”

“He knows I exist but he looks right through me, Triss, I’m a ghost in his life.”

The front door creaked open then slammed, startling Geralt awake. 

“Whazzit?”

“It’s probably Yennefer,” Jaskier said.

Geralt blinked his eyes hurriedly and brushed back his pale hair. 

Yennefer stomped in and set down a tray full of lemon bars. “For the bake sale.” She looked up at Geralt, who was smiling at her. “You have frosting on your face.”

Jaskier stepped into the other room and Triss followed. Ciri stepped out after them, still spooning cereal into her mouth.

“He sees her,” Jaskier whispered.

“You like Yen,” Triss said. 

“I do, she’s terrifying and fun, but I just wish he looked at me like that, like he noticed me.”

“He notices you,” Ciri said. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt called from the other room.

Ciri smirked. “See?”

Jaskier reentered the kitchen. “What’s up.” 

“I’m loading stuff into my car, help.” 

Jaskier promptly took a few trays of muffins and began to walk them out to Roach, Geralt’s ‘84 Chevy Nova. It wasn’t a beautiful car but Geralt loved her, and Jaskier had grown to love her too. The four of them, watched by Ciri, loaded up the baked goods and Jaskier went to get in the passenger seat. 

“You’re not coming,” Geralt said. 

Jaskier faltered but recovered well. “Oh, well of course. And since I’m your very best friend--”

“Not my friend.”

“I’ll stay and clean up the kitchen,” Jaskier finished.

Triss made a sympathetic face at him, kissed Ciri on the forehead, and left. Yen nudged him in a mostly friendly way and swept out after her. 

Ciri watched him clean up, sitting on the counter in the corner of the kitchen. Unusually, neither of them said a word the entire time. When the last dish was put away she said.

“You know, I’m not sure Dad sees many people, not sees them. I’m not always sure he sees me. It doesn’t mean you aren’t important to him.”

Jaskier smiled wanly. “You’re very wise for fourteen.”

“I am. Extremely.”

“He sees her.”

“That’s because he’s slightly scared of her.”

Jaskier leaned with both hands on the counter and stared between them. “Ciri, you know I love you dearly?”

“Yes.”

“And I won’t stop loving you. Not ever. But I might not come around so often. I promise it doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you.”

“Just that you think Dad doesn’t care about you.”

“I know he does,” Jaskier said, looking up and crossing to where Ciri sat. “But he can’t even call me his friend. I can’t do that anymore. I need to...I need to not do that. At least for a while.”

“I’ll miss you,” Ciri said, setting down her empty bowl and hugging Jaskier. “He’ll miss you too.”

“I’m going to miss both of you too, but I need to do this. I’ll still come to every last one of your gymnastics meets. And I’ll still be your Uncle Jas.”

Cir pulled back from her hug, jaw set but her eyes dry. “I wish you could be my papa instead.” Jaskier kissed her on the forehead. 

“Bye Ciri, I’ll see you next week when you get another medal.”

She waved at him as he left.

Jaskier didn’t look up from the bus floor the whole ride back to his shithole apartment. The ugly green carpet on the floor of his room still looked the same. He shrugged and began to work on grading papers. There was no more he could do. 

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

Jaskier was surprised to find that the day had passed easily. He’d only had to turn his thoughts away from Geralt every time he started to think of him. 

Then there was a knock on the door and Jaskier suddenly couldn’t stop thinking of Geralt. There he was, drenched, from the sudden rainstorm and dripping in his apartment’s doorway. 

Geralt shoved a fist out, holding some supermarket flowers, the daisies they dyed in obnoxious colors. Usually Jaskier found them ugly but these, battered and very, very neon, were the most beautiful things he’d ever seen.

“What?--”

“We aren’t friends I want to kiss you,” Geralt said in one breath.

“What?!”

“I don’t want to kiss friends. I want to kiss you a lot. All the time.”

“You never even look at me,” Jaskier said.

“I do, just not when you’re looking.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want you to catch me staring at your lips I want to kiss you, Jaskier.” He stared into Jaskier’s eyes, unwavering. “I see you.”

“Who told you?”

“Triss. I came home and the kitchen was clean and Ciri was sort of mad at me and you were gone so I called her and panicked,” Geralt paused for breath. “And she told me. I see you. I promise I do. maybe not all the time but I’m not good at noticing people all the time I’m...Renfri could do that. I can’t. You can notice people all the time but I just don’t. I’m sorry. I do notice you though, I see you, I promise.”

“You see me,” Jaskier said. He watched Geralt’s eyes as they looked downwards. At his lips.

“I don’t want to kiss friends, Jaskier,” Geralt whispered. “Please, please may I kiss you.”

Jaskier nodded.

Geralt tasted like the peppermint Chapstick that he bought around Christmas and hoarded all through the year. A kiss had never been so good. 

Geralt pulled back and handed Jaskier the flowers. “You don’t like this kind but I like them because they remind me of you.”

“They do?”

“They’re bright and if you were a flower Ciri said you’d be a daisy.”

Jaskier smiled. “You got her advice, on what flowers to get me.”

Geralt nodded. “She knows these things. There’s cookies, back home. I bought some from the bake sale. Someone made white chocolate macadamia nut and I know they’re your favorite.”

“Fine, Geralt. I’ll go back home with you.”

“You’ll stay?”

“I’m not moving all my stuff in tonight, but yes, eventually I’ll stay.”

“Good.”

“Ciri’s going to have to stop calling me uncle now. It’ll give people the wrong idea.”

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It got away from me. Whoops. Happy ending for all, though.

[mistressmaker]

I LOVE a good garage sale find! I went on an adventure to buy some windows for a decoration I plan on making and found this too for $20.

Well what is it?

I didn't know that either when I picked it up. I just thought it was a unique piece. It obviously was a condiment caddy of sorts, but this piece is specifically called a cruet set. Cruet sets were popular during the Victorian Era.

This specific set was made by the Meriden B. Company which specialized in silver plated good sometime between 1850 and 1900. That puts this piece somewhere over 120 years old.

After a little digging, and realizing it was silver plated, I bought some serious tarnish remove (tarn-x to be exact) and spent a good few hours getting decades of tarnish off. There is obviously still some tarnish left (scratches plus areas that were touched a lot = REALLY stubborn tarnish), but I like the character! ✨✨✨

Tips for Polishing Silver Antiques

I will admit it did come out pretty shiny, which I don't mind but maybe you'd like your piece to look a bit more rustic. Here are my tips:

If the piece you wish to polish is just lightly tarnished, try using toothpaste and a cotton rag or soft toothbrush.

For a shiny finish or for extremely tarnished goods, use tarn-x or other well rated tarnish remover/polish. READ THE DIRECTIONS!

For a more rustic/patina piece, avoid using harsh chemicals. Instead, use baking soda and boiling water. Line whatever dish you use to soak your piece in aluminum foil to avoid damage. After letting your piece soak, wipe it down with a soft cloth. Repeat until you achieve the polished look you want. This gives you much more control over the finished color if you do not want a super shiny piece!