#I think boss is an ok descriptor

[theagentoftheworld]

I was in a random twitter thread and I found my fucking boss

Like I entered a twitter thread arguing about grammar rules (as is tradition) and I was checking out what insightful discussion was happening and I saw my boss drop a random one liner on one of them

The craziest part of this is I thought to myself "oh this is 100% her kind of discussion" and I had to do a double take to make sure I wasn't on the lab chat room and I'm still processing how insane it is to find someone you know while on your online-exclusive account (second time to happen to me btw, although the first time is actually potentially indicative of a serious issue regarding privacy online) Actually, let's segue into talk about the first time. I long while ago, I made a twitter account, and as is normal, filled all my personal particulars wrong. The only irl person I ever interacted with was my friend and his account was also completely disconnected and he didn't even follow anyone. Guess who I was recommended to follow in a few days? That's right, who else but my schoolmate-slash-neighbour-slash-busmate from a few roads over!!! Until this day, I have no sweet clue how that happened-there was no location info given, and I had not interacted with any school people AT ALL. Even if location data was forcibly taken somehow, that wouldn't be enough since she was technically far enough to not be considered "in my locality". Absolutely bonkers how they found it and even assuming them as having all my information some other way isn't enough to explain it. (By the way, my only other recommends till then were various content creators)

[jadewritesficshere]

Warmth

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie takes you home after work (1150 words)

Contents: Reader suffers from chronic pain, smoking weed, no gender descriptors for reader, reader is called Baby

Please note I am not a doctor and do not take any medical advice from me ok thanks also each person's health is different from someone elses so please be kind to each other thanks bye

You sigh as you finally lock the door for the store. You had started the day out with working your regular shift. Which had been fine, even if you had felt a little stiff. Then that coworker called in sick...again. And your boss begged you to stay late...again. You had wanted to say no, but the prospect of getting a bit extra in your paycheck, well, you couldn't pass it up.

But now your body was screaming at you. Working for twelve hours had your joints aching. Some days you could barely roll over in bed without the pain. Could barely think a coherent thought as your joints and muscles screamed at you.

And other days, the good days, you felt you could run a marathon. Not because of an absence of pain, but the pain was so little compared to what you were used to it felt like nothing. Some days started like this and ended like the bad days.

And today was ending like a bad day. Especially because that one manager, the one who seemed to not like you, was on duty. Your boss, the sweetest old man in the world, didn't care if you sat in a chair at your register. But the manager who came in for the evening shift once the boss was gone? Took it away and called you lazy, even if you were the best cashier they had.

You slowly but steadily made your way to the van that was sitting idle in the parking lot. Through the passenger window you can see Eddie smoking a joint. When you opened the door, startling Eddie, smoke furled out. You climbed in and slammed the door shut.

"You know this is just begging for someone to call Hopper right?" You groan as you turn to grab your seat belt. "Figured you'd wanna smoke and relax a bit, thought I'd get it started for you." Eddie's arm reaches across you grabbing the seat belt before you could and buckling you in. "I can do it myself," you mumble.

"Yeah, you can. But maybe I want to take care of my Baby, hm?" Eddie hands you the joint," When you said you'd be late earlier, you uh said you already weren't feeling the best. Figured I could do what I can to help. Not that you can't do it yourself, you can, but you know-" "I know. Thanks."

It still was hard to accept that this is how your life was. Even harder to accept help. The thought that people were helping out of pity made you want to scream, even if you knew some people, like Eddie, were helping because they loved you not because they pitied you.

The van roars to life as Eddie presses the gas a bit too hard, causing the entire van to lurch. Eddie winces and mutters an apology. You inhale on the joint, letting the smoke fill your lungs. You crack a window to let the smoke out, humming as you close your eyes.

By the time you make it to Eddie's, you can feel the weed in your system. Softening the edges of everything. The pain easing up slightly as you relax.

Eddie tumbles out of his side, almost face planting, as he rushes to get to your door. He throws the door open and bows, "My liege." You huff out a laugh as you graciously take his hand, gripping it tightly as you step down and out of the van. Eddie winks at you as he kisses the top of your hand, causing you to swat at him. Eddie chuckles as he drops your hand to go and open the door of the trailer.

You follow Eddie inside and to his room after kicking off your shoes. Your only thought is laying down and going to sleep. You barely shrug out of your uniform before collapsing onto his bed. Usually, Eddie would make some joke about getting naked, but tonight he forgoes that and instead dims he lights, sensing how tired you are.

Eddie's bed is old and yet somehow more comfortable then yours (probably because Eddie moves around so much in his sleep he doesn't stick to just one spot like you do, which causes your mattress to deflate and sink in one spot). You toss the nearest blanket over you, sighing in relief that you made it through the day.

You can hear Eddie enter and leave the room a few times, mumbling to himself. The sound of his rings hitting his dresser. The creaking of the drawers opening and shutting as he finds something to wear to bed. The distant beeping of a microwave going off before Eddie leaves the room again.

"Made you something," Eddie says as he reenters the room. "Not hungry," you mumble into the pillow. "Its not food- well, it is but not anymore? I mean we could eat it buuuuuttt..."

You peek an eye open to look at Eddie. In his hands is an oddly shaped lump. You can recognize the familiar pattern as the curtains in Eddie's room (and the realization there are no curtains anymore hits you). You can tell it was supposed to be a rectangle, but is more oblong like an oval.

Eddie gingerly places it against your back and- oh. It's warm.

Eddie crawls onto the bed next to you," Remember the heating pad? How it died? Well, figured might as well make my own and save us some money. Filled with rice, so if we really need to I guess we could eat it but I don't think that's uh the best idea."

"You sew?" You ask softly. Eddie grins at you," Mama taught me." Eddie readjusts the bag against you where it fell away. "Eds..." Eddie hums looking up at you," Yeah?"

"Thank you." "Anytime Baby. I'd do anything I can for you." You smirk at him," Anything?" Eddie rolls his eyes as he grins back," Weeelll-" you both chuckle. You roll back onto your side and close your eyes.

And as you lay there you think of how much Eddie loves you. How often he shows you his love. How he opens doors for you and closes them. How Eddie doesn't treat you as glass like some of your friends do, but how he still cares and makes you comfortable. How Eddie doesn't try to limit you and let's you set the pace for yourself. How Eddie took down his curtains to make you a heating pad because yours went out.

You reach back and slowly link your hand with his. Eddie hums slightly, linking your fingers, before shifting and wrapping his arm around you, drawing you closer.

You can feel the warmth from the rice. The warmth of Eddie's body. The warmth from his breath as he falls asleep. And the warmth from your heart as it yells out how in love you are.

[emperor-of-blood]

Next up is Laios!

The leader of our somewhat intrepid heroes! Laois is best known for his love of monsters. It'd be a lie by omission to leave out his autism. It's quite apparent not just in his monster obsession, but in his social life and peculiarities with different sensations. But it's most obvious in his special interest; which makes sense as that just so happens to be at the forefront of the story. It's why the story is even able to happen. What would've happened if Laios didn't know all he did about monsters? Or frankly, if he just wasn't eager to try eating them?

More secondary information about Laios, funny as this is to say, is that he's one of the front liners for the party. He's courageous and tough. He's versatile and quick-witted. He's resourceful-

And he's kind.

So, with that out of the way:

Laios is....

A Knight Of Light!

One who exploits [Light]/protects with [Light]

Listen. It's not my fault that all of these knights keep getting a knight class!

Perhaps the first thing I want to talk about here and to remind everyone about, is that Knights exist in sessions void of their aspect. Tbh sometimes I think I should probably try to work that into my little descriptor above at some point; and then I remember it sort of is already. That's the in the "exploit" part. The Knight gets a lot out of a little. How this exists in Dungeon Meshi, is that nobody is really taking advantage of the dungeon as it exists. Laios sees it for what it is, and because of that, our heroes are able to progress through the dungeon despite not having a penny to their name. Part of it fr me too is that when Laios loses his sword he picks up another one that a lot of people would refuse, or at least kill the monster inside it first. And Laios's insistence not to proves a boon! Also, probably the fault of Dave, but whenever I think about how a Knight should work I always look right to their weapon. How do they get the most they can out of this by exploiting their aspect? Kensuke is a great answer to me.

Would Senshi have even joined their party if not for Laios? ... Probably not? But more likely is that no one else would've let him join their party. Which I guess we do know to be true as he'd been living in the dungeon alone for years. Senshi really was a diamond in the rough and I don't think I can understate that. He's just weird. That's really the only " bad " thing about him; and Our Boy Laios here of course sees that as a positive! Laios learning healing magic lets Marcille shine. Despite a lot of people in the story really not liking Chilchuk, Laios wants him in the party and lets him work as he sees fit. I can't think of a boss I've had that would've been fine in the same scenario. And you know what? It lets Chilchuk thrive! He turns out to not just be great at what he can do but also puts his best foot forward even when he doesn't want to do things. He's always emphasizing his role as a noncombatant, which Laios takes in stride, but when push comes to shove he's throwing a dagger into the eye of a Red Dragon. He could've ran!

Now you might be thinking: "Gee, this sounds an awful lot like a Blood player or maybe a Hope player."

And- well, you're not wrong exactly. There's an argument to be made for each of those. But I want to ask you: "What is Dungeon Meshi really about?" To me, it's about the deconstruction of the dungeon. What actually is a dungeon? Is it really just a setting that only exists when our heroes are inside? How does it function? What happens to all of the monsters after the adventurers leave? Where does the treasure come from? Why are the monsters the way that they are? What happens to the traps after they've been sprung?

These sorts of questions have been largely ignored or hand-waved by storytellers and dungeon masters for years and years. And that's ok. But it doesn't mean you have to do that. As we can see, there are so many wonderful answers to be found here!

And really, who better to explore all of this than Laois?

[prince-liest]

Dr Prince! You have very effectively infected my brainslug with ‘Lady’s First’ (fire name, btw. the meaning hit me in the face when typing this and you would only know when checking the spelling) I can’t stop thinking about it.

Sorry beforehand, this may bully your inbox with a wall of text.

There are so many things I want to write and analyse about this, but right now I’d like to focus on Vox:

(also: feel free to ignore this if my insane ramblings go off the rails, lol, they tend to do that)

So I find it fascinating how both of them interact in this. Clearly they were talking about emotional and personal things way more than male Alastor. It’s very hard for me to put into words, not gonna lie. Vox, I feel like, has experienced a very different kind of ‘hell-socialisation’ in this version. Since it’s not ‘my gender is eldritch monster’ Alastor he’s looked up to but Alastor the woman who also happens to be the mighty Radio Demon, things turned out very different. 

We can all agree that friendships between men and friendships between men and women are different. We can’t forget that Vox is also playing a role here. His presentation is carefully crafted to be the ‘man’s man’. He is all ‘I’m going to present as toxic masculine as I have learned men to be during my lifetime’ -> probably very much imitating the way that his boss used to present. Because that’s what a man does, of course(lol)! The competitive edge, so to say, is missing that would be present between ‘old-boy’ male friends. This is laced with the fact that Vox is also queer as Hell and not immune to his own upbringing. So he was able to clock Alastor’s insecurity IMMEDIATELY and tried his best to dispel them (even though it was for different reasons than one might think initially). Because he’s probably been subject to the same thing when he was alive. (Again, ignore if I’m being stupid about this, it’s just my own interpretation and I’m INSANE)

Also it kinda feels like talking about feelings is something that comes more naturally to Vox and thus, things like him being transgender and them having talked about his vast collection of dildos beforehand is interesting but I also can’t quite put my finger on WHY, exactly. Is it because a male Alastor would have absolutely snooped around Vox’s room as well, taken note of the dildos and just not given a shit? I don’t know! And Vox being so soft and considerate throughout the whole thing hit me in the face out of left field, not gonna lie.

Now, coming over to Alastor for a moment. You can almost see the gears turning in her head that led to this decision. All the little hints beforehand and the interactions throughout. As you said: socialisation as a woman dictated to her that if she wants to have a meaningful friendship with a man, it is expected of her to give herself over. She clearly likes Vox enough but I think there are also other layers to this. There is also that “choosing a partner” vibe. She is just as curious and wanting to try things as her male counterpart. She also already knew she probably wouldn’t enjoy sex but she’s not above trying it out nevertheless -> combining all the things: Vox being a friend that is near and dear to her heart that she also doesn't feel ‘weaker’ to, if that makes sense. Vox can’t ‘take’ her power or perceived status away the same way a non-Overlord would in this scenario. I interpret/project a lot of “men sleeping around are heroes, women sleeping around are sluts” into this. Then there is Vox being trans and having had very similar socialisations during his lifetime. It almost created a safe space for Alastor. If it was going to be ANY man she was ever going to try this with, it would be Vox. (Of course that notion of ‘safety’ is a very flimsy and badly worded descriptor that goes out the window the second we bring hypnosis and the fact that they are DEMONS in HELL into the mix but I’m very bad at describing my thoughts in this otherwise) 

Phew. ok, so that was so many words to say: I love this stuff! 

Now I wish that it was a series but my brain already can’t comprehend how this masterpiece even saw the light of day so….

Thank you so much for this!

HENCHY THIS ASK WAS SO LOVELY <3 No apologies, I love long comments (though for continuous conversations I tend to start putting things under a cut, haha).

I think you're very on-point with a lot of this, especially with Vox feeling like a safe enough option that Alastor was able to get far enough as to try this in the first place. And it's not just because she thinks Vox understands where she's coming from, having experienced life "as a woman" (in Alastor's eyes, though that's not precisely actually true to the trans experience), but also because they're from similar enough time periods that she thinks Vox has a proper understanding of how things should be. Vox in this fic has been historically actively more respectful to Alastor in a very gendered way because he's socially canny enough to pick up on the fact that Alastor expects him to be, and he cares enough about what she thinks of him to continue behaving that way even decades after they met when it's not actually the 1950s anymore.

Chivalry is dead, but they're both in hell with it!

And talking about his feelings comes more naturally to Vox in this fic because he's talking about them to a woman rather than another man, so a lot of society's "men shouldn't have soft squishy feelings (unless it's to their mother or female significant other)" bullshit doesn't register, especially to a guy who, y'know, has a vested interest in performing masculinity "correctly." If that makes sense! >:D

Anyway, thank you so much! I didn't expect the sheer amount of interest and positive response that this fic would garner and it has brought me a lot of joy. I'm really happy that you enjoyed it!

[thosebrookfieldgirls]

What are the girls' personality types based on the Myers–Briggs Type Indicator?

Ok so this took a while because I was going to take the test individually as each girl... and then that didn't happen after Val. So most of these are just going by descriptors so it might not be completely accurate but it's what we're going by. Also including some characters for reference on who they relate to according to a site I found. Website here: https://www.personality-database.com/

Val: ENFP (Avatar Aang from Avatar: The Last Air Bender, Mirabel Madrigal from Encanto, Reki Hasagawa from SK8 the Infinity)

Kris: ESTP (Inosuke from Demon Slayer, Childe from Genshin Impact, Zero Two from Darling in the Franxx)

Anne: ESTJ (Hermoine Granger from Harry Potter, Yanfei from Genshin Impact, Misty from Pokemon)

Jude: ISTP (Hunter from The Owl House, Kyo Sohma from Fruits Basket, Rayla from The Dragon Prince)

Kim: ISFP (Zenitsu from Demon Slayer, Yashiro Nene from Toilet Bound Hanako-kun, Glimmer from She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Eva: ISTJ (Tobio Kagayama from Haikyuu, Amity Blight from The Owl House, Moxxie from Helluva Boss)

Fiona: ESFJ (Tohru Honda from Fruits Basket, Starfire from Teen Titans, Lenore from Castlevania)

Some of these were pure gold when I was looking up character similarities and personalities for the girls XD. It also makes me think of some dynamics with the girls I hadn't previously considered seeing some of the girls as the various characters from different shows. But I'm also open to interpretation for the girls personality types since, as I said I just read the blocks and didn't take a test for any of the girls besides Val.

Edit: I've done Jude's test and she's now an INTJ... at least I got two letters right XD. I'll edit more when I get the chance.

[poke-entomology]

Oh shit ok ok bug fossil rumors and team plasma

Rumor has it they have /had a cloned bug pokemon- no witnesses had like - a good descriptor of it other than it looked kinda like a funky Kabutops , and was purple

I wonder -

You think that they could have used a dna scrape from the fossil for splicing this thing together?

If it was real?

I wonder who has it now , ever since Ghestis was ... he's arrested right ? I think?

You never know with those crime bosses- they're stupidly slippery.

(ooc, yes. but Skeeter is hoping and praying it isn't)

[dr-habit-b]

In pursue of happiness

Stressed and tired.

Yeah, that was a good descriptor of Kamal on any given day. These last few specifically applied especially well, however. He’s not sure why exactly. He never is, but.. he can take a guess.

He rolled from his side to his back, staring up at the ceiling of his room as he hugged a mess of blankets against himself. He’d been awake for hours, but after doing his morning routine.. he just got right back in bed. He couldn’t bring himself to step out the door and face the work day.

Face his boss.

He groaned and smothered his face with his blankets, like it would help him stop thinking about it. But face it, Kamal, its all you’ve been thinking about. When he uncovers his face again he glances towards his window, sunlight slipping in from under his curtains. It had to be well past noon by now.

There was nothing he could do, he had decided hours ago. After extensive thinking, that was his only conclusion. And it frustrated the hell out of him. But honestly, realistically, it was true wasn’t it? He wasn’t stupid, he knew Habit had some... stuff going on, to say the least. Stuff he’d probably never be privy to, cause that’s not his business. So what changed? Why, all of a sudden, did this bother him so much?

...Maybe it was that someone else saw it too. That Habit wasn’t okay. Which confirmed to Kamal that his worries weren’t all just in his head, like they normally are. This was.. real. Very real.

Too real.

The idea that Habit was depressed wasn’t anything new to him. He understood, even though personally he found himself more Anxious than depressed, he’d been there before in his life. He could have helped, had it just been that.

But it... wasn’t, was it.

The idea that Habit went through some kind of trauma was very new to him. Not for any particular reason, it had just.. never crossed his mind. Personally, the biggest traumatic event he went through was falling down the stairs as a kid. That gave him a weird phobia of stairwells, but that was about it. Very cut and dry.

Habit, on the other hand... Kamal didn’t have a single, static idea. There was no way he could possibly guess whatever he must have gone through. Even with the little snippets he knew.. like how Habit was a dentist, and how he profusely refused to talk about it. How the mention of family makes him uncomfortable. A bad home life, maybe? But that could mean so many different things...

Even if he did find out, even if he did manage to get Habit to finally spill the truth... well, what then? What would he even do with information like that? Tell him ‘wow, that sucks, im so sorry.’? Was that it, was that really all Kamal could offer him? A few heartbroken words of apology, when he wasn’t even the one at fault?

No, that was shitty. That was so unbelievably shitty. If someone did that to him, he knows he wouldn't feel any better. So he shouldn't do that to Habit.

Augh, this is assuming Habit would even tell him about these things! He’s made it abundantly clear that there are just some things he Will Not talk about. Kamal respects that, because its not his business.

But, god. God it tears him up inside.

It would be one thing if he was just. Worried about his boss, about his friend. But it was just never one thing with him, was it! He tucked his face against his bundle of blankets in his arms, letting out a weary sigh as he felt his face flush.

This was ridiculous, and, and totally unprofessional, and just!...

Hrrmm... Not fair.

Coming to terms with these feelings had been a Process, one that Kamal still wasn't even through with. But no matter how many circles he ran himself in, no matter how he tried to rationalize or explain away the tight, warm feeling in his chest, he came back to the same answer.

He cared about Habit. More than a boss, more than a friend. Admitting it was hard, considering their professional relationship as boss and assistant. It felt... wrong, somehow. Who falls for their boss?

Suppose Kamal does. And truthfully, was it even.. that weird? After all, Habit and Kamal never really acted like boss and assistant. Those were terms they used, sure, but... first and foremost, it felt like they were friends above all else.

Maybe that’s why it was so easy.

Why it was so easy for them to get along in a way boss and assistant probably wouldn’t otherwise. Playful banter and comments were normal and expected. Habit was a very touchy-feely sort of guy so hugs, head pats, and general comforting touches became normal and expected. Kamal remembered when he thought it was weird, but he got used to it. He liked it, it made him feel... warm, and like he was home.

Lately, that warm, home-y feeling had become so much that it hurt. And oh, god, did that scare him something fierce. Because what.. what was he supposed to do? Even if he did risk trying to see if Habit felt the same way, he.. there was still so much he didn’t know. So much he knows he wouldn’t have the skills to deal with. Sure the possibility of rejection was scary enough as is, but. The thought of trying anyways, and screwing up, or.. hurting him? That was a thousand times more terrifying.

He cared about Habit. The big lug was just an awkward, well meaning teddy bear. He just wanted to make people happy, probably cause.. he wasn’t a very happy guy growing up. He had a big heart and even bigger imagination. He was so friendly and did his best to get along with everyone he came in contact with. It was charming when he gave folks Russian pet names, or how he slipped back into it when talking to himself. And, maybe most importantly, he was really respectful. Kamal’s not sure he’s ever been somewhere or met someone that respected people’s pronouns and comfort so much before.

He finds himself groaning into his blankets again, finding his face even hotter than it was before. That was all well and good, sure. He’ll admit it, he likes Habit! But...

That persistent, nagging anxiety is still there, at the forefront of his mind. The thought that he’ll hurt Habit if he tries to act on his feelings. The thought that he cant do anything to help him in a worthwhile way. Its quick to drain away all that warmth, and leave him feeling cold and tired.

Some assistant he was. Whatever. He was gonna sulk in bed all day. He’d apologize to Habit t-

Knock knock.

Kamal’s thoughts screeched to a halt and his heart jumped up into his throat as the silence of his room was broken. He was so startled and frazzled that he didn’t register the sound of his name, but when he heard the click of his door open he bolted upright just in time to see Habit poke his head in curiously.

Their eyes met and Kamal could see Habit visibly relax.

“Kamal! Oh, goode I was worryed.. You did not an-swer me when I knocked....” He gives the other a sheepish grin opening the door the rest of the way and stepping in. He taps his fingers together a little bit, and worry creeps into his expression again.

“Are... yew o-key? You hav’nt beene to the office.. ah, it is o.k if you’re are not feeling well!! Dide you get sick?” He’s quick to make sure Kamal knows he doesn't have to come up if he’s not feeling well. “Have u eat-en? Eye cam go get soup!”

Kamal’s chest gets all tight, and its almost enough to make him cry. Stop it, stop, stop. He shakes his head and turns away from Habit, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I-... Im.. ok, just... Not really in the mood t’get up, y’know?...” That was... honest enough, he thinks. After a moment of quiet he glances back over at Habit, only to flinch seeing him right next to his bed. Oh Jesus big guy, how were you so quiet?

Habit sighs, before giving Kamal a bright smile.

“Non-sence!! Yew will note feel bettr juste staying in bed! Come, come, I wiil help you.” Before Kamal can protest Habit scoops him up into his arms much like how he did that time Kamal was panicking. He looks pretty proud of himself, even as Kamal sputters in embarrassment.

He would have set Kamal down, had he asked or protested! He would! But he didn’t seem uncomfortable, at least, just embarrassed. That’s okay, the elevator ride up to the office is very short, and Habit is quick to set Kamal down once those doors open into the office. He’ll give him another smile and a pat on the head before stepping inside and going over to their little coffee station. Kamal has presumably been in bed all day, sleeping a lot.. he must be tired! Coffee will help. Coffee always helps.

For a second Kamal could only stand there, his face flush and his chest and throat so tight he felt it was a miracle he could even breathe. He finally stepped out just before the elevator doors started to close on their own, and he made his way to the office computer. The sunlight coming in from the window-wall stung enough as is, but the light of the big, clunky computer was... almost worse. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and decided to poke his head online a bit, see what was happening.

It was becoming very apparent that spending all day in his dark room, barely moving, and then suddenly being carried out into direct sunlight and made to move was gonna give him a killer headache. By the time Habit finished getting Kamal’s coffee already, he was holding his head in his hands and rubbing his temples.

Habit frowned to himself as he set the mug nearby, tapping his heels against the ground. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten Kamal up... it was a little rude, but he knows how laying around all day feels. Good in the moment! Very not good afterwards. He thought..

Before he could even think about saying sorry, Kamal is already waving him off with one of his hands. He could feel his boss just, staring at him with worry. Didn’t even have to look.

“Im- Im fine, okay. Just... got a headache. Don’t. Worry about it.” He drags a hand down his face with a sigh, picking up his mug and taking a sip of his coffee.

...His tone was too harsh just then, but it was too late to take it back now. He avoids looking at Habit, and after a second of silence he hears a small ‘ok’ before listening to those heels move away from him. His heart sinks, and now he just feels worse. Great, good job Kamal.

The rest of their time spent in the office is... quiet and awkward. Kamal spends a bit of time online chatting a bit, finishing his coffee, but ultimately.

He doesn’t feel any better.

When his headache starts getting too much for him to deal with he finally gets up and leaves. He gives Habit a wave and a short ‘going to bed’, but that’s it. He still doesn’t make eye contact or anything. Just... feels too awkward right now. Try again tomorrow, maybe.. after some sleep he’ll stop being so stirred up inside.

----------

Sleep didn’t help.

Kamal could hardly get himself to fall asleep after he left, and even when he did finally doze off, he kept waking up on and off all throughout the night. Reminded him a lot of his stressed out, tiring college days. You know, like... half a year ago now.

God he’d been working for Habit for about half a year now. It felt like forever...

When the sun finally started to rise, Kamal was already up and about. There was no point in making himself feel even worse trying on and off to get himself to sleep like he had been. He was in bed almost all day yesterday... he had to make it up to Habit.

An extensive morning routine later, he got himself dressed in clean clothes and made his way out of his room. He stopped, briefly, to look at the door to Habit’s room. He contemplated, for a second, knocking and seeing if he was up and about too. Habit was an early riser too... but, no. They could just talk when they met in the office.

The ride up the elevator was quiet and awkward. Stepping into the office was even more quiet and awkward. It didn’t seem like Habit was up yet, which... surprised him, but. It was early, maybe even earlier for him. Maybe.. he was getting some good rest, for once. Hopefully that was the case!

...Who was he kidding. After yesterday, after being so?... Worrying. Even he worried himself. He shouldn’t be letting his mess of feelings affect how he treats Habit. Or, anyone for that matter..

Its a while of just working in silence. He logged into the computer, checked some emails, checked some bills afterwards... not much going on today. Might be a nice, quiet day to just... relax! Relax. That sounds like a good day.

Once he gets some of his daily checkups finished he goes and starts making coffee. He’ll get one for Habit ready too, full of creamer and sugar, he’d appreciate it. Once he finishes he takes his coffee back over to the computer, taking a seat with a sigh. He sips idly as he decides to check on the blog this morning... and almost spits out his drink onto the screen. Wait, wait, what? It looked like there was a new post on blog... he looks around the room for a second, taking in the silence before looking back on the screen. When did Habit?.. Well, he was a very.. sneaky kind of guy, but. Geez, not even a hello?... Or was he just that spaced out making coffee? He couldn’t be 100% sure. Both options were... plausible.

Kamal decides to pull his knees up against his chest, sipping from his coffee idly as he just stared at the computer screen and waited. He kept glancing around the room, as if to see if Habit was sneaking up on him or not. He hadn’t even heard the elevator... or did he? He couldn’t even remember anymore, he was so focused on listening to the brewing coffee.

He groans as he thumps his head against his knees, silently cursing himself for being so... Like This. Useless, stupid assistant... get a grip already. You can do this.

Getting up and walking around a little sounds like a good idea, so thats what Kamal does for the next few hours on his own. Walks around, does some stretches, nothing special. Every now and then he’ll step out onto that little balcony, peering down into the carnival area and looking to the terrace. Hoping he’d see Habit, and maybe get the chance to wave at him, but. No such luck. Maybe he was hanging out with Jimothan or those artists... someone inside, probably. Hopefully. 

Against his better judgement, he finds himself spacing out a little, just looking out into the sky. This place really was nice, up in the mountains... they always wondered what exactly this building was used for before Habit came along and bought it, but they never figured anything out. Maybe it was an abandoned passion project, or some sort of strange hotel. They’d never know. Guess it didn’t really matter-

Something suddenly brushes up against his back and his breath catches in his throat as he turns quickly, finding himself staring up at his boss. A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth and he hangs his head for a second as he lets out an over-exaggerated sigh, looking back up at Habit with a grin.

“M-man, big guy, can... can we like. Tie some bells to your sleeves, or something? Y.. you’re way too quiet.”

Habit looked worried for a second, afraid he made a mistake, but when his friend smiles up at him... he relaxes a bit, giving him a little smile back.

“Ah, but yew were note an-swering me.... Are... You feel-img bettr than yes-terday?”

Kamal visibly cringes and he sighs again, dragging his hands down his face for a second. So, he probably did space out earlier, too. God that must’ve been so weird, what was wrong with him?

Wait, no, don’t answer that. He shakes his head, dismissively waving his hands.

“I- no, no I mean yeah I’m. Better. Look, I uh...” He looks back up at Habit, making an effort this time to actually look at him as he speaks this time. His hands go behind him, holding onto the railing of the balcony.

“I’m... real sorry, ‘bout yesterday. I was... Had. Still have. A lot on my mind, and I was all stressed out, but I shouldn’t have... taken that out on you, even if it was only a little bit. So I’m... I’m real sorry, d-... Habit.” He tried his best to keep eye contact, but as he spoke his gaze drifted, till he stopped looking at his boss all together. He just couldn’t help feeling like he had to run away, to hide, to curl up into a tiny little ball and just disappear.

Habit just watched and listened carefully, intently, smiling gently at Kamal even as he started avoiding eye contact. When he finished he reached down and pat his head, only to run his hand down the side of his face and under his chin, coaxing him to look back up at him.

“It iz okay, Kamal. You should’nt worry so much for me. I... should note have gotten you up so sudden-ly. It should be me say-ing sorrey to you.” He smiles a little bigger, and is thankful when Kamal doesn’t protest. He doesn’t move his hand for a little while, till he starts getting embarrassed himself and decides its gone on too long.

He ushers them back inside more boisterously, hoping to clear the awkward air he feels he just created. He’s not dumb, he saw how red Kamal’s face got.

They head back over to the desk, Habit lets Kamal have the chair again while he leans against the desk. He’s tall enough to sit on it pretty easy, but he wont, that’s rude. He sips his cold coffee and they talk about mundane things for a bit.

Bills, emails, whats going on online, how check in went... normal stuff. Everything was normal!

“Do... yew want to. Talk a-bout?... Whate has been botherimg you?...” He gazes down into his last bit of coffee when he asks that question, tapping sharp fingers against the mug, making a peasant little sound. He can see Kamal stiffen up from the corner of his eye.

“It is o-key if you do’nt wante two. I under-stande.” He finishes the last of his coffee, but keeps the mug in his hands, continuing to make that pleasant little clinking noise with his tapping. He glances over to Kamal, who has his knees up against his chest. He really liked to sit like that... Habit never found it very comfortable, honestly.

He perks up curiously seeing Kamal take a big breath, his gaze softening as he realizes he’s trying to calm himself down. He starts to say something, but pauses when his assistant looks at him again.

His expression was... determined! But nervous, and anxious, and a little bit flushed. Habit just barely suppressed a snicker. Not that he would have laughed at Kamal, but... it was very cute. The determination drains from his face as he finally starts to speak, though.

“I just... don’t know if I. Should, y’know? I just, I mean.....” He waivers for a second before bumping his head against his knees with a frustrated groan. 

“I. Care about you, Habit. A lot.” Okay, that part was out. Just.. gotta keep going, keep the momentum.

“But its... it’s hard! Not- I mean- not the.. the caring party, I-I more mean the...” No, no, stop. Pause. Take a breath. Try again.

“It’s just that... you’re. You’re my boss... that’s like. A whole thing on it’s own, but at the same time...” His chest tightens, and his expression saddens. Even just thinking about it, about...

“I don’t... really know you. At all. I mean, I know you’re a good guy, obviously. You.. have a big heart, and even bigger imagination. You really... care about other people, and what they want, and what they need. You’ve got such a.. positive energy around you that I just. Wish I had, or, wish I could... be apart of, maybe.” His face flushes a little more, but the words are coming easier now.

Now came the harder thoughts.

“But you never... talk about yourself. And I know that its.. hard, I do. You... you gotta gimmie something to work with though. Like, I.. up until a little while ago, I didn’t even know Habit wasn’t your first name? All I know is, is the tiny bits and pieces that I’ve had to gather and put together myself! And that’s!....” He lifts his head and looks up at Habit again. This time, the taller man avoids eye contact.

“That’s not fair. I- we, promised. That we would talk to each other! I just- I don’t even wanna know everything I just...” He starts to lose steam a little bit, and his momentum is grinding to a halt. He just feels tired now.

“I don’t wanna be in the dark about everything about you... I don’t, don’t wanna have to sit here and.. and assume, and worry, and just not know. All I know, for sure, is that... you had a bad childhood, and you still get nightmares about it. That.. could mean a million different things, a million different ways to know how to... to handle it, I just. I cant just... try and guess.” His voice progressively starts to sound more.. on the verge of panic, maybe? He can feel it in the way he talks, but he’s just so. Tired. He wants to help, he wants to know.

Maybe that was selfish of him.

For a moment that dragged on for an eternity, the two of them simply existed in complete silence. Hugging his knees to his chest was all Kamal could do to keep himself from bolting out of this chair and running away. Or throwing up. Either or. He could feel the anxiety spread from his chest to the rest of his body.

Habit didn’t feel much better. He stared at his mug so intently, you’d think he was trying to shatter it with gaze alone. Just in the tone of his voice, he could tell how deeply Kamal cared. And how much this meant to him, right here, right now.

It was like daggers in his heart. He’d never felt this from someone else before. It was always him giving out this sort of feeling to people. It was like being so deprived of food and finally getting a good meal, after years and years of nothing but scraps, that you couldn’t even scarf down or enjoy without making yourself sick.

Suppose he should have expected this. Lately, his nightmares had been worse. He desperately had been trying to put the past out of his mind, but... recently, it was like everything brought it back to the forefront of his brain. Like an annoying pop-up ad that wouldn’t let you hit the X to close it. It was bleeding out into how he acted, how he reacted, his mannerisms, the little things that made him jump.

Kamal was so smart, of course he noticed. How could he not? It was a miracle none of the other Habititans were as nosey.

After what felt like an eternity, Habit let out a long breath he had been holding. He turned to look at Kamal, his eyes tired and sad. Their gazes met, and this time, neither of them looked away.

“You... really wante to know? You want to knowe thise... part of me, ev-en if it changes how you feel?”

Kamal blinked, Habit’s last comment giving him pause. Changed how he?.. What was he about to tell him, exactly? It could just be an exaggeration, to make him back off, but...

After thinking about it for a second Kamal moved his legs so that his feet were on the ground again, looking up at his boss with a serious expression on his face.

Habit stared at him for a long while before giving him a weary smile, sighing heavily. He mumbled a quiet ‘ok’ before deciding to take a seat on the floor, cross legged with that mug still in his hands. He kept it to occasionally tap on as he thought over his words, where to start, how to say certain things...

He was quiet for a long time as he deliberated, but Kamal was patient, and waited quietly. He even slid down from the office chair to sit on the floor with his boss, which got him to chuckle just a little bit. It seemed to relax both of them, being on equal ground.

After a while, Habit finally spoke.

“Mine family was.... not. The best.” He started, and immediately his expression contorted into an expression Kamal had never seen on Habit before.

Hatred.

Habit tried so, so hard. For almost all of his life, to not let hatred become a normal feeling in his heart. 

There had to be times when it slipped in, however. It couldn’t be helped.

“Mom was... verrey over-bearing. She al-ways wanted me to be juste like her. Her... малышка.” He grimaces at that word, not that Kamal understood. “Even whene I told her, thate I was.. umcomfortable, or did’nt want to do something... she did not listen. Ever. How do you say, ah, thate phrase... ‘Mother knowes best’? Yes, that was her. And if I did note list-en...” He shut his eyes for a second, letting out a sigh through his nose before he opened them again. “She... waz not the worste, at least. But, she woulmd pull on mine hair, un-til I cried and cried for her to stop. I am verriy sensative to it even now.. A smal tug will hurt like yew are ripping hair out.” He looks over at Kamal a bit and offers him a reassuring smile. No, he’s not upset you pulled his hair that one time. You didn’t know.

He looks back to his coffee mug, idly rotating it in his hands. When he thinks about what he’s going to say next, he cant help but let out a very short, bitter bark of a laugh.

“My... dad, on thee oth-er hande. Much, muche worse. Two bothe of us, me ande mom.” He stops for a second, taking a deep breath. Trying to settle his anger for a moment, before it bubbled over. “He... only re-spected himselfe. No-one else. God could have come downe in front of him, ande he would note care. He was.... was...” He scratches at the mug in his hands, biting his bottom lip a little bit. Even now, even now.... He shakes his head, resigning that thought for the time being.

“Mom and dad were bothe doc-tors. They were fighting all the time.... Yelling. Screaming. Ne-ver smiling. It... made me so sad.” Even thinking about it now, after everything. It still made him sad. “Once, when I waz... ten. On-ly ten. I had raized a verre special flower.... I wamted to show them. To make them Happy.... I loved flowers verri much, back then... but...”

He sucked in a sharp breath, raising a hand to cover his mouth for a second. He flinched slightly feeling a touch on his arm, only to look and see Kamal staring up at him worriedly. He managed to smile from behind his hand, letting out a shaky breath. He laid a hand over top Kamal’s and left it there, while his gaze drifted upwards.

“Mine dad... he... saw me giving kissies to my flower. I wamted to make him happy, my lily.... but... it did note make dad happy. I stille do not know why, but he got so. Mad. Fury-ous.  He... hurt my lily. Thene, he hurt me.” He finds himself lightly tracing over the scars where it happened. He remembered it vividly, and it made him shudder uncomfortably. He wouldn’t go into detail.

“Hhe.. broke mine smile. I was... bro’kn. And my lily was hurt. Oh, I could heer him cryimg.... it was aw-ful. At first, I felt more sad for my lily... but..." He lets out a short, bitter laugh. "Like I saide, I waz... bullied, harsh-le, by mine peers, for my bro'kn smile."

He glances down at Kamal, who hadnt looked away from him this whole time. He could see the worry and pain on his face clear as day... it hurt his heart. He didnt want people to worry about him.

But... Kamal wanted to know. He looks back down at the mug in his hand, his other squeezing Kamal's underneath it.

"They wamted me two be a doc-tor too... they forced me. Eye had no say. I waz made to have per-fect grades, I had tutors, and ex-tra lessons frome a verre early age... hahh, it worked! I waz al-wayes the top of my class.... By the time I waz al-most graduated, I made a de-cision... if I had to be a doctor, eye would be one who helped thoze with bro'kn smiles. Like mine. I be-came a dentist. I... left my home, ande came here. It waz what mine parents wanted, but... I waz happy to leave. To be a-way from them." He sucks in a sharp breath, letting out a long breath. "I hav'nt seen theme since. It haz been... years and years."

He looks wsary as he thinks about the next portion of his life. It... was easier, but.

"Coll-ege, was.... fine. People were so.. un-happy, thou. Just like mom n' dad. No smiles. So muche.. complaining, amd fighting, and sadness. I could'nt bee happy either. I juts wamted to finish and go worke. I... I waz able to finally be me, thou. Thate... thate was nice." He perks up a bit feeling Kamal squeeze at him, and when their eyes meet, he can read his confusion easily. He smiles sheepishly, before turning his head away.

"I waz... raised as a. A girl, yew know. Long long time ago now... But whene I got here, a-way from... everyone eye ever knew, I de-cided to change. It.. it was verrey hard, amd. I still got... got bullied, a lot, but. I chamged my name! And cut my haire... and no, I did'nt like it, haha." He smiles almost.. fondly at the memories, before he starts frowning again. "I stille get... nervouse, going by mine new name. As if... my parents will. Will show up, amd yelle at me, and tell me I ca'nt. Thate it iz not normal, that I ame just..."

He shuts his eyes and grimaces, trying to push the bad thoughts out of his head. No, its okay, you're. Okay. When he opens his eyes again he looks down at Kamal, giving him a small smile.

"The name I chose for mine self, waz.. is, Boris. I do note know, but.. some-thimg about it felt.. right. May-b it was cause it sounded manley, haha! I.. liked it, thou." He casts his eyes downwards, humming a bit. "I coulde never change my laste name... I wamted to, to... tru-ly escapt my parents, but... ah, weel. Mine uncle was a verre good man. Kimd, but stern, and always nice to me... I su-pose I kept it to staye close to him, in a way. Thou, eye doubt I will... ever see him againe."

He takes a deep breath, slowly exhaling through his nose. He doesnt look at Kamal when he speaks up again.

"I knowe it does'nt seem like it, but... there iz a deep, deep hatred for mine parents in my heart. I woulde not be sad for they're deaths. They were..." His voice catches a little bit, but he pushes through it. "...evil. Thate is what I thimk. I coulde tell you so, so much that they did, but... it would be two much. Fore you, and me. I think... yew get the pic-ture though, hah..."

He feels two hands squeezing his arm now and he looks back to Kamal wearily, blinking at his determined expression.

"Do you really think that- that me knowing... any of that, would. Would seriously change how I see you?" His voice cracks a tiny bit, full of emotion threatening to spill over. Habit's- no, Boris' surprised expression doesnt change this. "I still care about you, I care about you so much. I want... to be here for you, to, t-to help you, and, and I..."

Kamal shakes his head and rubs his eyes for a second, fighting off tears threatening to spill over. Be strong, be strong. When he looks back up at Boris, his eyes are still teary, but his expression is still full of resolve.

"I w.. wanna see you happy, Boris. I wanna see you smile for real. Please..."

Ohh... now its time for him to get all teary eyed. Emotions well up in his chest and throat, dangerously close to turning him into a blubbering mess. He hadn't known what to expect, he had never... told anyone these things, before, but he had been expecting the worst. For Kamal to.. get scared, or.. upset, or even grossed out maybe, but no.

Kamal was always so kind and sincere to him. They hadn't even known each other for very long. It was so... he didnt even know how to explain.

"Yy.. y-you're are sh.. shore, Kamal?" His voice breaks, and his tears finally spill over. He has to confirm, he needs to be certain.

When Kamal nods, thats all he needs. He grabs Kamal and pulls him into a big hug, trying to hold back his sobs and failing. He wasn't so sure why exactly he was crying so hard. Talking about everything was draining, yes, but. It didnt make him cry. Maybe he was just... happy? Did people cry from happiness? He's not sure he ever has.

He's so used to crying when it feels like his heart is being torn apart. Right now, it feels more like... his heart is full to bursting, and it almost seems to make it worse? He doesnt know how to handle it, so he just.

Clings to Kamal, crying against him while the other rubs his back and pets his hair, faintly hearing him say that it was okay.

Things were okay.

----------

The rest of the day slowed to a crawl. The two of them left the office to Boris' room. No words were exchanged, they didnt need to be, right now. The two of them.. simply existed with each other, in quiet content, until the day grew long and sleep took in the both of them.

Morning was no different than normal, except they woke with each other. They exchanged embarrassed, sleepy smiles, giggling like kids who just got away with something.

They separated to do their respective morning routines, reuniting in the elevator. They still said nothing to each other, but continued to exchange little smiles, only to giggle like they were playing some sort of game.

Things slowly returned to normal as they returned to work, but it was more... relaxed. Normally Habit was the touchy-feely one, but Kamal found himself playing with his boss' hair, leaning against him, touching his arm... occasionally their hands would touch, but. They'd start laughing, and never actually held hands.

Boris was sure he'd never felt this good in his whole life. He really was... happy, for once.

[defleurtradingco]

Epoch- Lesson

(Previous: Camp, Next: Heartache)

“Yer right, this place is TINY,”

“I told you...”

The truck rattled and jostled slightly as they came to a slow stop in the dust. There, across the entire lawn (which was also made of dirt) was a tiny little ramshackle looking house, and directly across from that was another structure too small to be considered a barn. Monte didn’t have any other descriptor in mind for it however.

A horse neigh came from within it and he cringed immediately without making any moves to get out of the driver’s seat.

A stable then. A slightly larger one.

Gray didn’t seem bothered by any of it and got out on the passenger’s side, slamming the truck door shut.

“Hey take it easy,” Monte called out as he too stepped outside. “So, anyone even here? Looks like a ghost town. Ghost...house.” “He should be,” Gray held his hand over his mouth and nose as a cloud of dust kicked up by the wind wafted by. “It’s not like he ever really goes anywhere except to town for stuff...like groceries and horse things, I think.”

Right beside the house was another pick up truck, one far dirtier than Monte’s own. It’d seen frequent usage. Whoever lived here had to be home.

Together they walked to the porch, Gray reaching forward to knock while Monte waited behind him, turning his back slightly so he could look at the rest of the yard. He pulled his bandanna over his face just in case.

No one answered the door immediately, until footsteps greeted them from the inside of the house. The door came opened slowly, just a crack at first.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Gray scowled.

“How am I supposed to look at you. You bring trouble every time you come over here.”

The door swung open wider at last. Monte turned back around again, squinting the only eye he could. “Huh??? Wait a sec- I know you!!”

“Who doesn’t.” The man was Native American, for certain. Dark hair, tan skin, and scruffy hairs on his chin, with the only oddball thing being his stark round and yellow eyes. Just like a bird’s. A hawk maybe or an eagle or some other bird of prey. It was unnerving. Small white and black speckled feathers were visibly growing out of the back of his neck just under his braid.

“Fuck I don’t remember yer name, sorry.” Monte pulled his bandanna down. There was no use for it.

“Yeah, no one remembers that either.” He answered in a deadpan.

“This is Osy.” Gray sighed, annoyed.

“Yeah!! You’re the bird guy! I heard about you! Sometimes!!” Osy looked far from amused. “Just don’t ask me which tribe I’m from. Please.” He turned his attention back to Grayson, which was less than friendly. Tolerated, maybe. “You coming back from another run? I told you already, I don’t need you turning this place into a stop- I have too many of them trying to do that as it is.”

“A stop??” Monte asked.

Gray ignored him. “I’m not, I almost got eaten by ghouls out there...this guy picked me up, I just asked him to drop me off here so I could walk the rest of the way was all.” “Oh, yeah, sure,” Osy nodded, not believing it. “Ok. Mind tellin’ me what the hell you were doing to wind up in the middle of nowhere? I know you go by street or bus, you don’t walk across huge stretched of land like that. So how’d THAT happened?” If the cat-man had ears like a cat, they would have been pinned back by then. Rather than argue however, he turned and walked to the other end of the porch in a huff.

Monte glanced back and forth between the two. “This is uh...awkward...”

“Tell me about it.” Osy looked to Monte. “You’re the ghoul ‘exterminator’ aren’t you?”

“Th’ one n’ only Mr. Wormbane at’cher service friend.”

“Hm… you saw the canyons behind the house on the drive over here.” “I did.” “I’ve been having a bit of a problem the last several weeks. Haven’t called out anyone to come and look though, but something keeps crawlin’ into the stables over there and buggin’ the horse and stealing food and making a huge mess. The floor’s usually all scratched up and there are bits of hard stuff and crap that usually just trail back to the canyon. Weird yowling sounds and such by night out there on occasion. Sounded like a ghoul to me. Think you could go take a look??” Monte perked up slightly. “Why sure! Sounds like it could be, jus’ from whatcha told me. Once I know fer certain it’d be easy takin’ em outta here. They usually ain’ an aggressive sort. Elsewise yer pony’d be butchered by now.” “I thought as much...We can head out there right now if you’re ok with that. My afternoon’s free.” “If yer all right I’m all right.” “Ok.” Osy stuck his head further out of the horse, “HEY!”

Gray had his arms crossed and his back turned to both of them on the other end of the porch.

“You stay here, I don’t need you roamin’ around like a wandering tom cat if you’re in trouble again.”

“I thought you didn’t WANT me here.” “Oh shut up and get in the house and wait for us.”

Gray turned around quickly and stormed back to them, squeezing in between them to go inside to seemingly pout some more and give everyone the silent treatment.

“...He always like that? Damn turnin’ his back on ya an’ givin’ ya the cold shoulder like a fuckin’ cat??” “Unfortunately. I’d rather him stay in one place in the meantime. Come on, I’ll show you the stable, then we can head out.”

“Lead the way boss.”

As he and Osy stepped out onto the front lawn (of dirt), Monte couldn’t help but look back a few times at the house as they walked away from it. “So uh you two got any like, history or somethin’ cuz I mean- that kid ain’ told me much about nothin’ so far...” “I already learned my lesson with that one,” Osy sighed in such a way that even from behind, Monte could hear his brows furrow. “Don’t get involved.”

“Ahuh…I mean...he told me he wasn’t a Were but obviously he is,” Monte motioned vaguely towards Osy himself.

“He’s not a Were.”

“Huh??”

As soon as the stable door slid open, the sound of a horse grunt greeted them. Monte went rigid before steeling his jaw at the sight of a singular black horse giving him the evil eye, with its ears pinned back entirely.

Everything he’d been thinking about prior, had gone out the window. They couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

[ryoshan]

after the fall spoilers /

when u wanna liveblog but ur the first person you know to start/finish reading: a collection of disorganised and contextless thoughts by an excitable brit

book: mentions weiss and ruby 

me: SCREAMING

fox is from vacuo!!!!!! i am VINDICATED 

ADA ADA ADA ADA 

split point of view per chapter is sososososososoososos GOOD SO GOOD DO GOOD 

nothing will beat novels for their ability to drop explicit details in a short period of time 

VELVET HAS A PHOTOGRAPHIC MEMORY 

coco adele? was that a typo? or is adele her middle name? stylistic choice? hmm 

what a fucking show off our boy fox is 

tiny criticism: pls stop knocking on about coco’s fashion sense we get it you’re doing that thing where you boil her down to one trait, hopefully this will happen less as the book goes on 

FOX CLAPPED HIS HANDS TO HIS EYES. “OH NO!” HE SAID. “WHYYYYYYY?” 

this initiation is some juicy fucking lore my guys 

y.. yatsuhashi CAN FUCK WITH MEMORIES???

dyou think when fox stutters over a word in team cfvy’s mental group chat, coco, yatsuhashi and velvet repeat his mistake back at him 

i am supremely interested to know how fox’s semblance interacts with rens

i literally fucking winded myself at the start of chapter 5 gasping so hard 

“she looked like she had a mortal wound in her side” OH HAHA VERY FUNNY I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE 

coco mentoring ruby has given me more life than anything so far

WEISS DONT BE MEAN TO YATSUHASHI 

oh im not comfortable with weiss calling fox red that sounds very weird and not at all in character it sounds too much like torchwick and im not about making that association 

WHY WOULD HER HAND GO TO MYRTENASTER ARE YOU REALLY GONNA FIGHT FY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALLWAY WEISS?

i really did forget how much of an ego weiss has right in the beginning ive been writing her post development for too long 

BLAKE N VELVET BLAKE N VELVE T once again i gasped so hard my lungs hurt 

wow huh okay blake being violent is..... a surprise 

“I don’t believe in fighting prejudice with violence” jess is vindicated im so proud of my wife

COCO WAS GOING TO LIKE HER, VELVET THOUGHT you’re damn right she does

i dont like velvet and coco fighting ):

fox as the hardcore realist i am once again, VINDICATED

velvet employing the same words to gus as blake did to her..... aaa.....

yatsuhashi’s semblance makes me sad cause imagine if he made someone he thought cared about him forget him and it turned out to be really easy

UGH THE THEME IN THIS BOOK IS LEARNING LESSONS AND ITS SO APPARENT AAAAAA

fox and ruby interacted...... thank you for my life............

the inclusion of not only yatsu asking velvet to guide him so he can be better in terms of his language but also an active example of this happening is really pleasing to me 

as the player of a dnd character who always splits off from the group i can say with complete confidence fox splitting off from team cfvy in the sands of vacuo will almost certainly not go well

“she kept waiting for the others to see it” ;___;

PYRRHAAAA ;____________;

literally all it takes is her name and i am sad . 

this TEAM make my heart SURGE 

coco genuinely is the big explicit wlw i’ve been hoping for 

jesus christ coco hold urself together. 

fox vc alexa play darude: sandstorm 

OK BUT CYRANO IS MCFUCKING COOL MY DUDES I COULDNT HAVE IMAGINED SOMETHING LIKE THIS 

- as long as her remembered to charge his scroll. i knew it, boy’s gonna run out of battery . 

IF MY BOY GETS KILLED I’LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU ROOSTERTEETH

i love when things connect with canon i love it i love it 

why is coco of all people picking on velvet ): 

VELVET BITING BACK THO aaaaaa yay but also ):

uhg i love this fuck ign fami ly 

im.... emotional,,,,,

the cairn mission......... no wonder it was so hard..... im ): 

COCO FINALLY LETTIN VELVET DO SHIT YASS

I KNOW ITS JUST THE INDLUENCE OF GUS’ SEMBLANCE BUT IT MAKES ME SO SAD WHEN THEY FIGHT 

also im getting serious shadow of the colossus vibes

FOX BETTER NOT DIE BERTIE NEEDS TO GET FUCKED 

i love my son he’s so strong and smart 

theres so many death flags here i dont even know who they’re on anymore

lol jk he’s fine

i really love how sure of himself fox is and so he should be he’s fought really hard to be confident

it is REALLY cool seeing an actual scene from the show written from velvet’s perspective, im all about this 

moro is gonna be happy about glynda i know it she’s fab 

“we just need you to tell us everything” “ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING” ozpin still putting tremendous amounts of pressure on teenagers i see

“we prefer to speak with you individually so we can separate you from your support system while tugging on your vulnerabilities” 

yatsu getting mad ):

im not too fond on how blithely ‘coco never picked up on that’ regarding the finer points of velvet’s tendencies when coco has been established already as a people watcher and observational thinker.,

CFY TO THE RESCUE 

what the FUCK these adults???? hello????? “i deserved that” NO YOU DIDNT???? what did glynda think he was gonna do, stab ozpin??? 

“haha we broguth her here alone to TEST you!!! you passed because you came to her!!!! hahahahahah!!!!!!” fuck you ozpin 

no explanation as to WHY she had to be brought alone as if her ‘keen observational skills’ couldnt have been asked about in the presence of her team or indeed pulled fro the written report she’ll be making 

this is such a formative mission for them and i like it but damn ozpin really up here ruining it all 

the death flags were yatsu’s ALL ALONG 

oh god the impact of velvet using some of these weapons has not been lost on me and it must be devastating for her 

“if this didnt qualify, what did?” me when i get to the end of a game with 3468758976495 different things hoarded and dropping them all on the final boss

why are coco and velvet having a conversation like they’re about to die noones dying NOONES DYING 

nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

FUCK RIGHT OFF WITH SHIFTING TO A FLASHBACK YOU WANKERS

thumbelina peach...? really???? but hey looks like beacon has more than 4 professors now

“noone knew what had frozen that beast there” interesting . 

its interesting to me that so far its been atlas thats been shown to be the least accepting of faunus but now its becoming clear mistral is worse, worse enough that velvet wont even consider going there

“velvet waited for someone to ask her what she wanted, but they never did” :( 

anyway i cant wait to see how coco is gonna make the blind worm her bitch

yatsu is so shy about his semblance im sad for him, 

I CANT BELIEVE I THOUGHT YOU WERE CUTE 

coco getting edward to help ;_____;

its both funny and depressing that sssn are here and sage and scarlet are still yet to have any actual fuckin lines or DESCRIPTORS for that matter 

fox tapping that @ everyone command and getting chewed out for it 

COCO YOU BITCH THAT WAS ART 

u kno whats getting me most? 

BOOK #2 WHEN???????????

[hq-cuties-pls]

Admin Emma’s Smut Guide or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Word ‘Cock.’

Hi there! Admin Emma here! Sorry I haven’t been posting a lot lately; life has been a little crazy and I’ve been working on this super long project that I am tantalizingly close to finishing and I don’t want to lose momentum, so I’ve been hyperfocused on it. It’s not Haikyuu, but I will still probably post a link here so anyone interested can still read it.

Anyway, I am sort of aware that smut is sort of my forte… it’s weird to have that legacy, but I do know that it’s tricky for a lot of writers. And you know what? That’s ok! So today, at the request of a few of my writer friends, I am going to pass along some knowledge!

Full disclosure: I have had sex before. I have a tiny human sleeping in the other room as proof that I have had sex before. But this is not entirely necessary to writing good smut, even though it helps. Knowing your own body and reactions is a good way to bring authenticity to a scene, but it’s not required. Also, please keep in mind that I will mostly be talking about penises and vaginas together today, considering that is the majority that I write.  

So, to start, here are my Rules for Smut Writing:

1. Don’t just think about the What, but the Who, Where, How and Why

- One of the biggest mistakes that writers new to smut make is thinking that the act of sex will speak for itself and just… write sex. The ‘he put his penis into her vagina and it felt good’ stuff. This is a good start, but it can sort of read like an Ikea manual--insert part a into slot 2 to achieve orgasm. Character and relationship development is a big part of good smut. Why should I, the reader, care that these two people are having sex? What does it mean to feel good? Who are they to each other?

2. Language Matters

- I tend to find words like ‘penis’ and ‘vagina’ in smut writing to be a bit… clinical. It’s not absolutely wrong to use them, per se, but a big part of writing smut is setting a mood, and they can rip you out of the mood very easily. I tend to stick to the ‘Just Use ‘Cock’’ rule when it comes to describing genitalia, and it works wonders, but sometimes it’s not right for your scene. ‘Cock’ is a little abrasive for softer sex scenes, so you might have to find something else that fits the mood. Just remember that your word choices will affect the mood. “He grabbed her tits” vs “He touched her breasts” have totally different moods and belong in totally different scenes. (See below)

3. Take Your Time

- Most writers are so excited to get to the actual intercourse they tend to sacrifice the pacing of the scene in an effort to get penises into vaginas as quickly as possible. And that’s just… not good. The pacing and timing of the scene is so important. Unless your goal is to drop your reader right into the middle of the actual sex--which can be effective--you have to build it up a little bit. I have found myself thinking ‘dear fucking lord, this smut scene is quickly becoming a smut novel’ but when have you, as a reader, ever been reading a piece thinking ‘this is great, but I wish there was LESS of it.’ Fucking never, is my guess. Let your scene build; let those long, lingering touches be long and lingering; let them make-out for three straight paragraphs. If it gets flabby, you can cut some in the editing process but during the writing process, the more time between the the first smooches and The Big O, the better.

4. Write What You’re Into

- Smut writing is about honesty and vulnerability. Not just between characters, but for the writer as well. A person’s writing is a little window in how their mind works, what they find funny, what they like in partners and friends, and yes, what they find sexy. I run a request blog, sure, but my smut writing is still pretty catered to what I am into, and in my opinion, that is a huge part of what makes it enjoyable for others. You have to be honest when you’re writing smut, because your readers will absolutely sense if you aren’t into what you’re writing. If you’re trying to sell something as sexy, then you have to think it’s sexy first. I’ve read a few romance novels in my time, and I can always tell when the writer is very clearly not into what is happening on the page. Conversely, I can always tell when a writer is into something just by their writing alone. So if you’re not into bondage, a/b/o dynamics, or razor-wire suspension, then don’t write about it.

These are absolutely not hard and fast rules, and they may or may not work for you, but most of the really good smut I’ve read in my time have followed these rules.

Some of the best advice I’ve ever gotten when it comes to writing smut is to remember your Five Senses. Not only does it keep things from getting too repetitive (because let’s be real, there are only so many descriptors that sound sexy) but it really helps put the reader into the moment. Here, an example for you (featuring Daichi, because I’m trash):

Daichi ran his hand over your leg, pressing your thighs apart with his. He growled, tasting your wetness with his fingers, before he rolled his cock into you, bottoming out in a single thrust. He took it slow at first, letting you get acclimated, before he picked up his pace. He fell forward, moulding his body to yours, before he pounded into you.

I mean… that’s ok. Not great, but ok. A good start. However:

Daichi brushed his fingertips down your leg, sending shivers down your spine. In his deep voice, his hum of approval sounded more like a growl; the primal sound made heat boil in your core. His thick thighs pressed yours apart, exposing you to the cool air. His rough fingers gathered your wetness, and the slick pop of him tasting you was explosively loud in the quiet room. The hands that pried you apart shivered, like he was as affected by all this as you were. You wanted his cock; you needed that unbearable heat. The smell of his sweat and sex overwhelmed you, and when you looked over your shoulder at him, he stared at you like you were the only person in the entire world. Affection bloomed in your chest when his lips turned into a wobbly smile, and his eyes filled with such warmth and love that ease settled into your chest.

That’s better. And the sex hasn’t even happened yet. But even if you, personally, have never had that happen to you before, you can really feel it, right? That’s because I’m evoking your five senses. Even if you’ve never had sex, you can relate with a lot of the language because the sounds, the smells, and the sensations are familiar and relatable. Also as a side note, even though the POV is limited, by giving hints that the partner--in this case, Daichi--is into it can often add to the scene. It also implies an intimacy and familiarity that adds to the emotion of the scene.

So… about that sexy language…

I stick to one hard and fast rule: just use ‘cock.’ Granted, there is a time and place when cock isn’t appropriate--like softer scenes or the character is a little shyer. I find words like “length” and, sometimes, “hardness” can be effective, but for the most part? Just use cock. Dick can also work, and it’s somewhere between “cock” and “penis” on the sexy scale, but words I find never work are things like “member” (it makes it sound like a period drama) “rod” or “shaft” (are we fellating auto parts?) or anything ridiculous like “noodle” or “staff.” (You laugh but I swear to Christ I have seen both of these before). {Admin Alyx’s addition: Shaft can work but usually only if you’re referring to a specific part of the penis and not as a euphemism for penis. Staff is only acceptable if both characters are mages and they’re making terrible puns.}

Vaginas get a little trickier. I really like ‘cunt’ because it’s just sexy to me. I prefer it to pussy. But some people don’t like either of those things. Sometimes it can help if you compartmentalize parts: clit, labia, vagina etc. Words like “opening” and “entrance” can work. “Wetness” is good for softer scenes (I tend to avoid using “wetness” and “hardness” excessively, though, as too many euphemisms and you start to sound very squicked out by sex itself and I refer you to Rule 4)

And those are Admin Emma’s Rules and Guidelines for Writing Smut! Once again, these are not hard and fast rules. Just what I’ve picked up from reading good smut and lots and lots of practice. I do recommend reading good stuff--not just fanfic. Published stuff too. Here are some recomendations:

The Boss series (a not-shitty take on the 50SoG concept of BDSM+Billionaire but, you know, not abusive garbage), as well as Penny and Ian’s stories (side story from the same universe as The Boss) by Abigail Barnette (also follow @jennytrout on here, I crib so many notes from her, she is my hero and my inspiration)

Fit by Rebekah Witherspoon (POC and chubby protagonist, which I am very very into)

Hot as Hades by Alisha Rai (Hysterical and very sexy take on the Persephone myth)

Asking For It/Begging for It by Lilah Pace (This is a great series, but full disclosure: it does deal with rape in a big way. The protagonist and the main love interest engage in (consensual) rape fantasy and it can get a little bit vivid, so if you’re triggered by that/can’t handle it at all, I don’t recommend this one. But if you can handle it, I think it’s great and the mains have great chemistry, and nothing nonconsensual actually happens on the page)

Sadly, these are all fairly heteronormative (The Boss series deals with both characters’ bisexuality in a big way, but the main couple is still a cis man and a cis woman) as I haven’t read a lot of great queer published erotica.

I’ll leave you with a list of For Your Information TMI Factoids:

The penis is not a magic missile that finds Prostates and G-Spots alike.

Most people with vaginas have trouble achieving orgasm through penetration alone; some can’t at all. Foreplay is key to pussy satisfaction!!

Remember the clitoris, people. The clitoris is your friend, but she’s sensitive, so treat her gently.

Penises don’t drip pre like a goddamn fountain. Some penises produce more than others, but it’s not going to gush all over the place

Lube and condoms are great. Consent is sexy. Never worry about ruining the mood with safety. Trust me--there is nothing sexier than a confident man asking me if he can kiss me.

Vajay doesn’t taste sweet… just trust me on this one. It does not taste sweet.

When in doubt remember the BDSM Creed: Safe, Sane, and Consensual

[athomewiththecicadas]

Proprietary

It’s a computer company.

And here’s the little descriptor.

The world has nearly doubled since I was born. And as I was growing up, I can’t remember the cognitive demand as there is today. But if I could get my financials driving like that Frieghtliner truck video below, it could make a world of difference.

Logic:

1: I’ve already done this, but I forgot what to do.

2: Or, I totally forgot about an upcoming payment needed to be set aside.

3: If I had a list of options, I wouldn’t have to worry about the Boss.

4: If someone could remind me, that would be nice too.

It’s just that this software program lets you put anything you want together, if it does the same thing. And that includes logistics. And that includes a heads up to the next gas station that best fits your corporate business relations. Or directions to the closest fast-food restaurant in your route.

And if anything happened, you won’t have anything to worry about if you were only doing what you were supposed to do. Panic is not an option in high stress environments. And since that is the case, your employees will only use the appropriate action. And maintain how you are known. 

It’s job security.

And the more you start digging into this, you start thinking about how much is going on here, in complete synchrony. And it’s already over my head. And I would never have the time to figure all of this stuff out.

And then I found this business called Locust software. And here’s the link:

 https://locust.io/

And I started reading about their history.

Break

******************************

The history of Locust

Locust was created because we were fed up with existing solutions. None of them are solving the right problem and to me, they are missing the point. We’ve tried both Apache JMeter and Tsung. Both tools are quite OK to use; we’ve used the former many times benchmarking stuff at work. JMeter comes with a UI, which you might think for a second is a good thing. But you soon realize it’s a PITA to “code” your testing scenarios through some point-and-click interface. Secondly, JMeter is thread-bound. This means for every user you want to simulate, you need a separate thread. Needless to say, benchmarking thousands of users on a single machine just isn’t feasible.

Tsung, on the other hand, does not have these thread issues as it’s written in Erlang. It can make use of the light-weight processes offered by BEAM itself and happily scale up. But when it comes to defining the test scenarios, Tsung is as limited as JMeter. It offers an XML-based DSL to define how a user should behave when testing. I guess you can imagine the horror of “coding” this. Displaying any sorts of graphs or reports when completed requires you to post-process the log files generated from the test. Only then can you get an understanding of how the test went.

Anyway, we’ve tried to address these issues when creating Locust. Hopefully none of the above pain points should exist.

I guess you could say we’re really just trying to scratch our own itch here. We hope others will find it as useful as we do.

*******************************

end break

and they advertise:

Hackable

Locust is small and very flexible and we intend to keep it that way. If you want to send reporting data to that database & graphing system you like, wrap calls to a REST API to handle the particulars of your system or run a totally custom load pattern, there is nothing stopping you!

I can distinctly read this. 

But they put it with and F-35 fighter jet.

Everybody loves Sergeant First Class when it pays.

And as your rank gets stronger, and Private gets into $14/hr you’ll start to see exactly what I’m talking about.

Out of all the Senior NCO’s, Sergeant First Class is the one with the hand cuffs. And If my privates are low, and they won’t get up,

“There is no excuse to be overruled by the enemy.”

There has to be a way to overcome this weakness bogging down our operations.

And I think we can agree that we have to do whatever it takes to get over that. So let me guide your eyes to a more appropriate place

The Syndicate Group.

https://syndicategroup.com/

There comes a certain point in your experience in business where you’ve done everything you were supposed to do, And just like us, and the videos of air defense later in the blog.

“He just won’t get out of my airspace.”

And now, with all of your experience and weight, it’s about your mouth. And it’s true. A matured corporation knows what they are talking about. And the value of this asset has the right of free speech. 

And if you’re at this point, you can understand what I’m talking about. And that’s the ability to run your mouth,

“because you can.”

And that is a justice. And just like I said, everybody loves Sergeant First Class when it pays.

[tashatoons]

Paralyzed

Well I did it. Here’s my Grelliam Ficlett.   Inspired by the the song “Paralyzed” by Mystery Skulls. Hence the super original title :P  This is a first draft, so there may by typos. But yay! I did a thing!  I’m open to constructive criticism, as I don’t write often but would always like to improve. If things aren’t clear or too round about in description, feel free to let me know what you think. Or just fan screen at me. lol I’m open to whatever XD 

“SSSHHHIIIIIIVVV”

That satesfying metallic sound of William’s extandable death scythe pierced through the air before its clippers made contact with the wriggling tresses of cinematic record more than 50 feet before it. The scythe most certainly made up for its lack of showmanship with an impressive, unlimited range and percision. William made quick work collecting what remained of the record and turned to his subordinate with a freezing gaze.

“If you have time to daydream, I presume you must be done?”

Grell blinked. “Awah~! Just finishing up now!” And scrambled to finish collecting that pesky record.

He had a bad habbit of zoning out when William  was around.

Not for lack of effort, of course! Quite the oposite, actually. Grell’s intention was always aimed to impress his boss. The boss Who just happened to be the man he had a huge crush on for the past 90 years. The boss who made his head feel stupid, and legs feel like jelly and heart beat like mad. That boss who he was once again, staring at like an idiot school girl who wandered into the wrong classroom because she was following the boy she liked.

“Sutcliff.”

“I’M DONE! I’M DONE!”

“Honestly.” He sighed, adjusting his glasses and the click click clack of his extendable scythe collapsed back into place. “This mission could have been done In half the time if you could keep your head on straight.”

Grell’s lip twitched into a grin. “Oh pleeeeease! As if I could keep ANYTHING straight.” He giggled at his own joke and waved a hand in the air dismissively.

William turned around and continued to adjust his glasses, perhaps in a vain  effort to supress any sign of a smile.

It was a good joke after all.

“Well.” He cleared his throat. “If you’re done Than let’s be off. I’ll need the report and proper forms completed and on my desk before the end of the day.”

“Of course, darling!” Grell beamed as he bounded towards his boss, easily clearing the span of two rooftops In one leap.

“And by end of day I mean BEFORE 6pm.”

“Yeeeesss, yeeees.” Grell sang, linking an arm around William’s.

He tensed. “Do try to remain professional, Sutcliff.” He spoke, pulling his arm from the subordinates vice like grip. “We’re still on the clock.”

“Mmm-hmmm~” he giggled as his mouthed turning up into that classic shark toothed grin. “Telling me to do my homework AAAAAND follow the rules. Ooohh~ teacher might have to give me a de~ten~tion ♡”

William’s eyebrow twitched. “Must you turn everything into an innuendo?” He retorted, grabbing Grell’s animated hand before it could poke his chest a 4th time.

Grell’s cheeks suddenly felt incredibly hot. There was a great chance to make a second joke there, but the 2 second interaction of William grabbing his hand made him momentarily forget how to speak English.

So he giggled stupidly and turned away. Gosh his hands were big. They fit perfectly around his. William could probably crush him in his grip without even trying.

“SUTCLIFF!”

William’s voice broke the red reaper out of the daydream again. This behavior was going to reflect poorly against him, he knew it–

“What was that?” Grell snapped back into reality as something wizzed past.

It was hard to make out, but that stench was unmistakable.

A demon.

“When did THAT thing get here?” The redhead growled, letting his voice fall into it’s more serious lower regester.

“I don’t know. I just now noticed it.” William’s voice remained it’s usual monotone, but his posture shifted into a defensive stance.

There was an unnatural silence around the two reapers. The kind of silence they knew all too well when a demon was on the prowl. Not birds, no humans, not even wind. It was close.

“BEHIND YOU!” Grell warned, twisting around to swing at the inky blur that materialized behind his boss.

The chainsaw roared to life as it shot forth with pinpoint precision inches from William’s left arm. He himself had heeded the warning, turning to block the oncoming attack with his clippers.

The demon shrieked as the chainsaw’s teeth snagged at its body.

The attack wasn’t close enough to cause any real damage, but it was enough to hurt.

“Blast! It’s fast!” Grell barked under his breath and turned on a dime. His senses had conpleatly shifted into hunter mode; Leave it to a demon to bring out the serious side of things.

The air around the two reapers felt charged with static electricity, causing pops and shrill whistles to form on the stagnant air. Soon, That beast was going to show itself.

The roof shingles settled and that was all they needed to know before instinctually leaping to the next rooftop.

Actually, William was a few seconds slower than Grell. Having spent more time behind a desk than on the field, his reflexes were not as sharp as they could have been. Just a few seconds made all the difference.

The creature burst from underfoot, sending William toppling head over heals from the shockwave.

Grell landed unscathed and zipped around with lightning speed, weapon at the ready.

“Are you hurt, darling?” Grell teased as William landed a few paces behind, having righted himself before the land.

“Tch. I’m fine.” He sighed, the air around him whipping as his scythe spun into its defensive grasp. “Did you forget a soul on the list??”

“WHAAAT!?” Grell shrieked, his voice cracking. “How can you accuse me of such a thing?!”

“Easily.”

The demon swung at them with a long, slender arm which they both avoided.

“I got every one! I know it!” Grell wined, heals clicking onto the new rooftop.

“Martin Fordwan?”  Will checked his soul ledger,  avoiding the demon as he read off the list of names.

“Yeees!” Grell ducked a clawed swipe.

“Quinneth McGain?”

“Ugh! Could not forget that one!” He groaned, swinging the chainsaw around to lop off the demon’s finger as they continued to fall back In pace. “That one HAD to go. Her fashion sense was HORRID!” The chainsaw revved, drowning out some choice descriptors of the unfortunate soul’ wardrobe.

The two reapers landed on the last low rooftop in the town, brick wall blocking their path. Up was the only possible direction to go, less face the beast head on.

“Gregory Forges.” William Glace from his soul ledger to the brick wall. It was tall, even for a reaper’s jumping abilities.

The demon rushed forward, sliding over the towns rooftops like an inky wave; It’s once faceless form now revealing a giant maw of jagged, sharp teeth. The thing lunged, causing the reapers to jump over it.

“Who?” Grell questioned, not hearing correctly over the demon’s commotion. The chainsaw revved and lopped off an unnamed appendage.

“Greg- Ahh!” William blocked an oncoming attack. This demon was somehow able to grow limbs all over its body, making it quite difficult to dodge. The extendable clippers shot forth and charged through a row of incoming limbs. The demon roared, and Grell didn’t hear the name again.

“WHAT?” Grell yelled from the other side of the inky mass, holding a hand up to his ear. Pinky out, of course.

The clippers shot forth, percing the floor right by Grell’s shoes. Within seconds, William was beside the subordinate, having used the scythe retraction to pull I’m forward.

“Gregory. Forges.” William spoke coldly, his eyes bearing down on Grell like two stabbing icicles.

Grell shivered. Oh, those eyes made his feel weak all over. If it weren’t for the commotion of the demon appraising, he would be lost in William’s gaze for sure! “Uh! Of course I did!” Grell’s voice was uncarictaristically shakey as he summoned his own soul ledger to leaf through. “See! I told you I-”

William’s brow twitched.

Grell gulped. “I…” and glanced to the side, ears burning. “I missed it.” He mumbled under his breath.

The demon roared.

“You WHAT?!”

“I MISSED IT!” Grell shrieked, stomping a heal and turning away embarrassed. At this point his face was the same color as his hair. “It’s ok! I know where it is!”

“For your sake, you had better.” William signed, his jaw clenching. “This will be more paperwork for the both of us to deal with.”

“S-sorry, Will.”

The boss signed, “Honestly. Just collect the damn thing before this creature does.” His teeth clenched as he blocked an oncoming attack.  "I’ll keep it occupied. Go!“ He pulled his death scythe back, forcing the demon to lunge towards him, perfectly lining it up for a stab through its hideous face.

Grell was gone before Will’s scythe stabbed the creature, and the thing’s cries confirmed his attack was true. Grell chewed on his bottom lip, the thought of his darling man holding off a demon just for his beloved maiden. "Ah! Knock it off!” Grell barked to himself, forcing his head back into reality. “This is for work. Just for work.” He sighed as he landed on the cobblestone street. It was nice to fantasize, but this required full attention. Something Grell severaly lacked when working with Will.

“Come on, where are you?” The reaper’s heals clicked along the path as his eyes scanned the area. It should have been here. Leaping atop a roof to get a better view, Grell once again checked the soul ledger. That damn name remained unchecked. Collections were not going to let him hear the rest of this. “Dammit! Where is this bloody thing?!” Grill was starting to grow anxious. The  soul should have been here! Right here! If the soul was missing it could only mean one thing.

“Shit!”

A Second demon charged from underfoot, sending the desperate reaper onto his rear. It had the soul in it’s long, tooth mouth. The cinematic records tenderils churning and whipping about. The inky mass climbed atop the roof, somehow struggling to keep the tendrils from escaping it’s own maw and it bit and spat stupidly as the records struggled against it.

“Humph! Took more than you could handle, huh?” The reaper’s gloved hand tightened on the death scythe’s handle and it’s engine roared to life. “Let me show you how it’s done!” And he leapt forth like a red bullet. To the human eye it would have simply appeared as a flash of light, thought in truth, the chainsaw sliced straight through the demon’s neck, severing it’s head completely. The thing screamed a blood chilling cry and it’s head fell against the shingled rooftop like a sac of rice; It’s jaws going slack.

Grill turned on a dime and faced the creature, his beloved chainsaw dripping with black, stinking blood. “Ugh! You’re certainly no treat to look at.” He scowled, bringing a hand up to his nose. “or smell for that matter. Ehhh Yuuuck!” The reaper let out an over dramatic full body cill before bringing the scythe forward to collect the record. He only got about half of it when something knocked him off his feat, causing an effeminate yelp to squeak out of him.

“Wha!?” Grell saved himself from face planting right there and turned with lightning speed. “YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!”

The Demon had grown a new head, and it was on it’s way towards it’s mate, half of a cinematic record in it’s brand new jaws.

Grell’s sharp teeth clenched, the grip on the death scythe tightened and his own eyebrow started to twitch with irritation. This was just NOT his day. “FFF!!! Stop making me look bad INFRONT OF WILL!!”

William blocked an attack while simultaneously tearing off yet another limb. He’d lost track at this point and wasn’t aware of the second guest headed straight for him. Until he heard Grell’s voice. He sounded…serious?

The entire incident happened in an instant. William hadn’t enough time to react, the last thing he saw was the demon’s mate, charging forth and somehow connecting with it’s body. William felt a stone drop in his gut before a tremendous impact sent him hurling backwards.

“WILL!” Gell changed course, running to shake his unconscious supervisor’s shoulders. “Will! Will! Wake up!.” He knelt down and helped the man into a sitting position, his stern eyes flickering open. Grell reached into his inner vest pocket and held a handkerchief to Will’s bleeding forehead.

Will was dazed from the blow. Gell’s voice sounded distant and muffled, but William knew he was right infant of him. “Uh…wha?”  He must have hit his head pretty hard. He wanted to tell Grell he was fine, he would heal in just a minute, but his hand fall against the red reaper’s arm and his eyes met the same two toned pair that matched his.

“Grell. The record.” He could hardly hear his own voice. “Get the record.” He forced himself more upright, clutching the damp handkerchief to his head. “I’m fine, get the record.”

“You’re not fine, you stubborn man!.” The sound of worry lingered on Grell’s voice as he helped his boss to his feet. “You’re bleeding.”

“You’re worried about THAT?” Will chided, leaning against his subborninate for just a moment to regain his balance. Did Grell’s hair always smell like roses?

The demon roared.

“What the ff-“ Grell’s voice was drowned out by the beats battle cry. What once was two was now one create, double the size, double the heads, both tearing at what was left of the cinematic record.

Grell growled and started forward, but William held him back.

“That thing is much too powerful to take on! I’m calling for backup!.”

“What!? We don’t have time for that!” Grell pushed William’s arm aside and started forward, chainsaw revving. “I’m getting that record and killing this thing myself!” And he lept forth, slashing straight into the creature’s belly.

The thing screamed and turned one hundred red eyes on it’s attacker. Grell was fast, zipping around the creature’s body like a lightning bug. The chainsaw roared and slashed through it’s gelatinous, black blood. Hacking and sawing at any part it could reach.

“THIS IS WHAT YOU GET!” Grill huffed, leaping into the air towards the second head. “FOR HURTING”

Slash

“MY!”

SLASH

“MAN!!”

The chainsaw’s teeth stabbed right trough the beast’s forehead, Pushing into the bone and sinew and muscle with ever ounce of the reaper’s strength. Putrid black blood shot forth, staining the beautiful red clothes in it’s thick viscous sludge. Grell’s teeth clenched, Pushing the blade of the chainsaw deeper into the creators brain. “Die!” The thing gurgled and spat, hanging on with every once of it’s being.

A dark tendril whipped forth, whipping Grell square in the gut and a second right under the chin. The attack cought him off guard and he lost his footing, falling back onto the rooftop in a pile. There was a snap, and when Grell hit the ground, the sound of tiny beads scattering around him coused his breath to hitch.

He scrambled to his hands and knees. But Something was off. Everything was blurry. He frantically reached a hand to his eyes and confirmed the worst. His glasses were missing. That sound of marbles falling around him wasn’t shingles breaking, it was his glasses chain snapping and scattering all about.

“Shit!” Grell felt a sinking feeling in his gut. He couldn’t see a thing infant of him, and the demon was approaching quickly. The thing was angry! One head hung limp at it’s side while the other bared a maw so hideous, Grell was almost releaved he couldn’t see it.

Grell felt around for his scythe. If he could grab it, he could atleast stand a chance. He scooted backwards, eyes staring blindly ahead. The inky blob before him reared up in preparation for a final attack. Gell’s breath hitched. The creature screamed and lunged forward.

Silence.

Grell opened his eyes, the ting wasn’t moving. Then he heard it. The clack clack clack of William’s clippers pulling back from piercing straight through the creature’s head. William pulled the clippers from the thing’s skull and it’s body fell lump onto the ground, it’s body immediately sizzling and melting into a pool of dark goo.

“W-Will?” Grell squinted at the blurry Will shaped figure walking towards him.

“That was incredibly rash and irresponsible, Sutcliff. Will’s reprimand was much calmer than usual. “You didn’t think that through at all and could have cost me even more paperwork had you not succeeded.” A blurry shape appeared before Grell’s vision and he reached out to touch it. A hand?

William pulled his subordinate to his feet and stared down at him before gently placing a pair of red glasses on his face. “Thank you for your effort, Grell Sutcluff.”

Grell’s mouth dropped open. “Uhh…you…too.” That handsome face suddenly coming into focus was probably the highlight of the assignment. Those cold eyes staring straight into his own, the soft expression, the hand. Oh, he was still holding Will’s hand, and Will wasn’t pulling away. Gell’s eyes widened and his heart felt like it might leap out of his chest. “W-Will…” He whispered, leaning towards him stupidly.

“Collect the other half of the record.”

“GAH!” Grell  snapped out of it and reluctantly let go, gulping and feeling his face heat up once again. “So cold…” he sighed dreamily, trudging to the other end of the roof to collect the pesky thing.

———

“OI! What happened to you?!” a chipper blonde reaper poked his head around from a cubical and chuckled at his Senior officer.

Grell had been completely disheveled by that vial beast’s blood and guts,  it would be terribly unladylike to go back to work looking like a sewer rat. Aside from being told by management to send the clothing to laundry, Grell had to change into the standard black suit and tie ensemble, with a red ribbon taking the place of a boring black tie. “It’s only temporary.” He groaned while sitting down at his desk, hair still damp from the shower.  “My poor coat’s a mess, laundry better not muck it up!”

“Hah! For your sake I hope it doesn’t shrink any more! Then you’ll only have a finger to wear it on!”

“SHUT IT, YOU LITTLE—“ Grell swiped at Ronald playfully, knowing full well the pup was only teasing. The two chuckled and bantered lightly until a pile of paperwork was plunked onto Grell’s desk. The Reaper’s grew silent.

“From Upper management. Mr. Spears says ‘ee wants these filled out an’ on ‘is desk by 6PM.” A slim, blonde from general affairs spoke apologetically.

“What?!?! But that’s only 2 hours from now! He really expects this to be done by theeeeennnn?” Grell wined and leaned back on his chair, defeated.

“S’wat ee said.” The blonde ducked her head and walked away.

Ronald whistled. “Geez, Spears really screwed you this time?”

“I wish he’d screw me a different way.” Grell mumbled.

“What?”

“What?” Grell blinked, turning his attention to the paperwork at hand.

Two hours was not enough time to finish all of this. It left almost no time for slacking off and fixing makeup!

————

“You’re working late, Ron?” Grell stretched both arms over head and leaned back against the office chair, letting his back crack with a satisfied sigh.

“Ehh, more or less. Susie’s having a little get together at the pub ‘round 7. Figured I’d stick around to walk with her.” The younger reaper grinned and leaned in to speak lower. “We’ve been….seeing each other, if you know what I mean.”

“Weren’t you seeing a Terisa two weeks ago?”

“Ehh! Things didn’t work out with her.” Ron shook his head. “Too high strung ‘bout certain things ya know?” Ron squinted. “Total prude. Didn’t even wanna move past snoggin’.”

Grell coughed. “Right.” And stood holding the completed pile of paperwork against his chest.

“Oi. You wanna join us tonight?” Ron asked, brows raised. “It’ll be a bunch of us. Not just me ’n ol’ Susie.”

“As long as my normal clothes are out of the wash by then. I feel absolutely dreadful in this getup.” He sighed. “That’s in what, an hour?”

“Uhh…fifteen minutes.”

“It’s 6:45?” Grell tried not to sound panicked.

“Did you forget to wind your clock?” Ronald turned his head. Grell was gone.

—————

The red reaper zipped through the hallway towards William’s office. Again he screwed up, after trying to years to impress him. Desk work was just NOT his strong suit. If Grell was LUCKY William may just give a lecture. Nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. It would be fine.

“Grell Sutcliff!” William didn’t even glance up from his paperwork as Grell walked into the supervisor’s office. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“I know I know!” Grell huffed and tiptoed up to William’s desk, a nervous smile plastered on his blushing face. “But I finished it! I worked really hard to get it all done! Really Will, 2 hours wasn’t nearly enough time!”

“Clearly. Hence your extra 45 minutes.” He finally looked up from his paperwork and locked eyes with Grell, causing a visible shiver through his body.

“You are an absolute slave driver, Will.” He grinned, wiggling from the spark of energy rushing through him. “Ohh, it drives me wild!”

“My shift was supposed to be over at 6:30 today, you know.” He stood, tapping the small folder of documents on the desk to straighten them.

“Mine toooo! Come on Will, I finished my work.” Grell wined and leaned down to drop the heavy folder of paperwork on the supervisor’s desk. He hadn’t noticed a part of his ribbon cought between the founders and pulled itself undone when the folder was let go. “Might I add we got back later than expected! Be grateful a lady saved you!”

William had walked around his desk to face Grell, a tall towering cold expression loomed overhead, causing Grell’s ears to heat up.

“I am.” William’s eyes fell to the undone ribbon around Grells neck. “Though I believe I helped you as well in the end.” His hands reached up to retie the ribbon and a swarm of butterflies erupted in Grell’s stomach.

“Uh…heh. Yes. A true knight in shining armor come to rescue his damsel in distress.” Grell smiled dumbly and batted his eyelashes, cheeks flaring at William’s small gesture.

“Honestly.” William’s nimble fingers tugged at the freshly tied ribbon, making sure it sat perfectly straight.  “You’re more than capable of defending yourself.”

“Also true.” Grell’s expression went soft, he felt that if he said anymore those butterflies would surely swarm out of his mouth.

“You handled that demon better than expected.” Will’s weight shifted forward ever so slightly and his eyes locked onto Grell’s.

Grell shivered. His own body inching forward as well, one hand reaching up to touch Will’s shoulder. His hands were still on the ribbon after all. “W-Will…”

There was nothing more than needed to be said before their lips were drawn to one another. The kisses were chased at first but quickly grew deeper as years of pent up tension finally melted in this desperate moment. Will’s hands gripped Grell’s slender waist and Grell pulled him closer, their breaths hitching with abandon and unrestrained passion. Grell drank the William’s kisses like precious water in a scorching desert’s heat. Time was lost to them and Grell was being pushed against the edge of Will’s desk; His hands gripping the back of Will’s jacket as if to never let him go. Will’s hands lifted the red reaper by the waist to sit on the edge of the desk, causing an effeminate gasp to fall from his lips.

The folder of paperwork toppled from the desk and hit the floor with a thud causing both reapers to jump. Suddenly, reality hit Grell like a train at top speed. He had just made out with Will.

“OH!…” Grell’s eyes widened as he turned back to face Will. “I….I’m s-sory that wa—Oh my.” His head spun with the awkward mix of emotions when one unexpectedly kissing their boss.

The two reaper’s knelt to puck up the spilled paperwork. “I’ll g-get this.”

“It’s fine I’ve —.” Their hands reached for the same page, and for a moment, the two of them did nothing to rectify the matter.

William cleared his throat. “Thank you Sutcliff, I’ve got this.”

Grell didn’t really understand what any of that meant, he just scrambled to pick up the rest of the pages and handed them off to William. Both of their hair was a bit of a mess from the incident that just occurred; at least Grell’s bow looked perfect.

“I should p-probably go…” Grell stuttered, handing off the handful of files to Will’s hands. Their figures brushed and Grell really needed a glass of water.

William didn’t answer, he remained stone faced and unreadable.

“Ahhh…Ok! Uh…See you t-tomorrow.” And Grell awkwardly shuffled out of the office, eyes wide and face burning. He wasn’t even sure if the incident had actually happened. Maybe he imagined it. Wouldn’t be the first time. Though the memory of Will’s hands lifting him onto the desk had him pinching his nose.

“Oi, Seinor! You comin?” Ronald waved by the office exit, a pretty blonde by his side.

“I’ll meet you there.” Grell squeaked quickly, picking up the freshly laundered pile of clothes on his desk.

“Everything ok? Spear’s wasn’t too rough with you, was ‘ee?”

Grell shivered, a stupid smile stretching across his face. “Not at all.”

[ozsaill]

Hurricane Irma: sailing to safety, how you can help

Totem and crew are in Grenada. Time and mobility were our key advantages to get safely far from the devastating path of Irma when others could not. When Irma made landfall at Barbuda, we were secure in St Lucia. Clouds streamed from the west at sunset, sucked in the “wrong” direction by Irma. We watched the system’s arrival via glowing laptop screens, as Jamie stayed up half the night glued to live data from weather stations until they succumbed – then followed as best we could in the aftermath, waiting anxiously for news from the friends squarely in Irma’s track.

In the days that followed, a few things became apparent. First, that the destruction in the islands is staggering. Our friend relaying to his evacuated wife that “there is nothing to come back to.” The first pictures to filter out showed destruction beyond imagination, descriptors like Biblical proportions and post apocalyptic all too fitting. First person accounts of the storm and the aftermath describing unimaginable chaos. For those of us making our homes on the water, how terrible to see large boats tossed like toys; piled up on top of each other, upside down, crushed into the corners of “hurricane hole” bays.

One of the early images circulating on social media

It also became clear how tenuous the safety net of these islands is: with no power, no cellular network, the communications have been deeply challenged. In the struggle to get word out and disseminated, misinformation spread.

What’s also evident is the resilience and community of islanders. And they need every ounce of this, because media attention is focused elsewhere. The breakdown at relief in finding friends are safe is sobered with news that desperation in a devastated, disconnected land has turned to violence and looting as the situation is increasingly dire.

Can you help?

There are several organizations offering immediate assistance which can use support.

In Puerto Rico, cruisers Tory Fine and Jon Vidar (Sail Me Om) turned their skills to organize Sailors Helping. What they have done in short order is tremendous. An update from this afternoon: “Today we helped a family get off of St. John, have helped organize boats to Jost Van Dyke, St John, and Tortola, and have raised about $4,000 directly while pooling efforts with a few other organizations and private donors to have access to almost 10 times that to fills boats and planes to the islands.” It continues: “In less than two hours, we have at least two boats going to St Thomas or Tortola, a plane being inspected so it can start flying next week, and a 180′ cargo ship all willing to help bring supplies to the islands and hopefully some people back; We have found four people temporary housing in San Juan; We may have a ride for a trauma surgeon to get to Tortola and a family to get off of St. John; And we’ve raised $2,000 that will go directly to purchasing supplies to fill these vessels.”

They are in tune with what’s needed…NOW. “The islands DO NOT need direct cash, or anymore clothes, first aid kits or baby supplies. They do need cots to sleep on, tarps for shade, food and water, and building supplies. This is where we will be focusing our efforts.”

To read the latest updates, see the Sailors Helping Facebook page. To volunteer or make a donation, visit the Sailors Helping website. And while the comments above reference USVIs and BVIs, that’s not the limit of their focus—at top of the wish list: a peace keeping group to evacuate large number of people at once from St Martin (where the reports of destruction and raiding have been extreme).

Tortola-based Three Sheets Sailing is another example of cruiser solidarity. Safely away (yet close by, and with access to US postal service delivery) in St Croix they’ve joined other charter skippers and now have four boats to shuttle between St Croix and the affected islands. To donate, visit their GoFundMe site; for more information, see the Three Sheets Sailing and Yacht Sea Boss Facebook pages.

For regular updates, follow Where the Coconuts Grow: Jody and baby Brig have evacuated from Tortola, but her husband Peter stayed behind and has the miracles of both a functional tender and a sat phone, offering early information of the real impact. Their boat/home is a total loss, and livelihood too. Jody’s continuing to feed updates to help the greater good, just as Peter works tirelessly for the same on the ground.

Windtraveler: the Tortola-based family’s boat and charter business are both probably victims to Irma, but that’s not flagged the energy of mom Brittany from fighting tirelessly for her home community. Scott arrives soon with resources and assistance: he’s buying supplies in Puerto Rico NOW, and their sat phone is how Peter has gotten word out from otherwise disconnected islands – donate here to help their on-the-ground efforts.

BVI Abroad – Hurricane Irma: Initiated on Facebook, this group is an excellent resource for BVI updates and has organized a website detailing relief from organizations to donate money (with transparency about fees taken by fundraiser sites), donate supplies, or otherwise get involved. Visit BVI Relief site they set up.

Looking for someone? See Irma Safety Check – http://ift.tt/2xX9baQ (VI focused) and http://ift.tt/2vSUWGB (BVIs only)

Additional sources of information and support welcomed, please add in comments or contact me.

It’s personal: reflections

The proximity of Irma, our recent stays in the places now devastated, our deep respect for the force of weather – all brings this event close.

Drone flight we made over Nanny Cay, late August

Nanny Cay at nearly the same angle, post-Irma

People we care about have lost homes and livelihoods. The search for the unaccounted for by those who were able to evacuate was sharply painful; tears routinely sneaking up. And it’s not just these places mentioned but Barbuda, St Barth, DR, Haiti… has anything been heard about Irma’s impact on Cuba? I have no doubt there is utter devastation in the Bahamas, and probably also in Turks & Caicos, and tomorrow we’ll learn about how Florida has weathered. It is overwhelming. Processing this while knowing fires rage on several fronts near our home waters, friends are affected by Harvey, the freaking big earthquake in Mexico this morning… it’s heavy. We all do a little to pay it forward, to bring a little light into a dark time. Like the stranger who anonymously bought breakfast for our friends evacuating from the Keys, having been an evacuee himself before and wanting to repay the kindness he was shown.

I keep thinking back to our assets in security: time, and mobility. We had significant notice to make a southbound path. We had tiered plans, backups to our backups, unburdened by constraints that prevented others from avoiding Irma. Weather rules our lives, and is compulsively monitored during hurricane season. At the early whiffs of the system forming, there were at least 10 days to add distance—which we did, in a relaxed fashion with stops in Guadeloupe, Dominica, and Martinique. If things happened faster, there were options for a dash.

Southbound on the coast of St Lucia, the ‘morning after’ Irma’s VI tear

The tough reality is that most people didn’t have those options, and had other complicating factors: it might have been ties and responsibilities they couldn’t relinquish. It may have been lack of funds. It may have been any one of a number of things outside my reality to imagine. Islanders can’t just drive inland and away (hello, Florida), and as the wreckage amply demonstrates it’s unclear how to find a place that’s safe. Withhold judgment.

As cruisers, the stress / challenge isn’t making our plans and backup plans. It’s around timing decisions. The future size and path of a ‘cane isn’t known as it grows from satellite fluff off the Sahara, but he system’s speed is easier to track, and it’s not fast…moving across an ocean at slower speeds than you need to stay legal driving past an elementary school. From there we can estimate when it’s time to make our move. When we do, it can be decisive: Jamie likened this to a basic collision avoidance strategy used with other boats. Make your move early, and make it clear. At different times this year that may have involved backtracking to the mangroves in Salinas, PR; jetting south to Grenada (check!); ducking southwest to Bonaire. The problem is trying to second guess storm tracks. Until the storm does something decisive, you can’t count anything out. How many times has the predicted track of Irma shifted?

There is a long road ahead for these islands Irma whacked. But among all the hard news, bright spots. Like seeing a post from Andy Schell this morning showing that that our friends Ted & Claudia’s boat/home, Demeter, really truly HAD made it through…moved into an outer-marina berth, even. Finding out that our friends on St John were fine, just cut off from everything in Coral Bay; their home came through, too. They help balance the harder stories: knowing they’re OK. Making it easier to believe we’ll all be OK.

Moved to the intact outer marina, post-Irma

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