#I've lived without a toaster for years

[jfk-blown-away-blog]

Blender

[youre-a-total--poser]

Can you please write one with mama nat and teen reader where Fury sends the reader on a mission with another one of the Avengers even when nat told him not to, and the reader got injured or something and nat helps nurse her back to health cuz she sees her like her own kid <3

Or you can write anything with mama nat, i just love your writing so much aaaaaaaaaaa 🧎🏻‍♀️

Accident Prone (Request)

Warnings: I don't know anymore Age: briefly 10 and 15 Word Count: 955 Requests: Open Summary: Read the request and it will explain everything Requested by: Anonymous Date: 28/09/2024 paring: N/A A/N: Thank you for your request I hope that you like it. Not sure if this is even good enough since it has been so long since I've written anything

Masterlist

---⧗---

You were taken by HYDRA when you were about 10 and let's say you were one of their failed experiments.

You had telekinesis powers well sort of. Honestly, you had no clue how to make it work and when it did happen it would happen at the most inconvenient moments.

Things would be moving about randomly people, mainly you, would be getting whacked by flying objects. It wasn't great definitely a 0/10 wouldn't recommend.

Then one day the Avengers came in and put a stop to everything that was happening and rescued everyone like they do but the only thing that was different about this whole operation is that they found something or someone sitting in a cage who would change their lives forever.

You were sitting there covered in cuts and bruises and they assumed the worst but that wasn't the case at all. You didn't tell them what happened and even to this day you never did cause it's pretty embarrassing not gonna lie but eventually they figured out why.

They ended up taking you back with them and letting you stay probably because they felt bad for this little thing that can't walk in a straight line, trips over nothing and chokes on air.

---⧗---

You were now 15 life is great everything is great.

You were getting help to figure out how to use your powers and after years of training, you could successfully move… a penny.

Sure it wasn't the biggest thing in the world but at least there was one less thing randomly flying at you so you called it a win.

Over the years you had developed a close bond with Natasha. What started with her tending to your every wound gradually turned into a mother/daughter-like relationship.

Every time the Avengers went on missions you were left home alone and you wanted nothing more than to go with them to see what it was like but every time Natasha would say 'No it's too dangerous.', 'You're too young.', 'Do you really think I'm going to let you go when you can't even make toast without nearly burning the place down?'

In your defence it wasn't even your fault that the toaster caught on fire someone turned the dial too high.

You knew that Fury was here assigning Steve on a mission and you just happened to overhear that it would be an easy one so it would be perfect for you.

Your plan was to be as annoying as possible so he would get frustrated and say yes so that's exactly what you did you followed him around repeating the word please and just as expected it didn't take long for him to give in.

Your excitement lasted all of 4 seconds as soon as Natasha heard what was going on.

"Absolutely not," she said crossing her arms.

"Please, Nat." you begged, "nothing is going to happen."

"I'm sorry but I said no Y/N."

"Not fair," you mumbled while crossing your arm in a huff.

Then the best idea, well the best idea at the time popped into your head however now you regret it.

"I'll never ask for anything ever again if you let me go."

While Natasha was thinking you were giving her your best please face it's never failed you before.

She let out a sigh "fine."

Your face lit up and a large smile appeared.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you said while hugging her.

"Don't make me regret it Y/N," she said sternly.

---⧗---

The mission was easy and boring it was just to collect paperwork or something you weren't really listening or paying attending.

It was all going well until it wasn't…

Natasha was anxiously waiting for the Quinjet's arrival once she heard you and Steve were on your way back.

She watched as Steve carried you out of the Quinjet. Natasha was already going out of her mind but when she saw Steve carrying it it sent her over the edge.

"What happened?" she asked hurrying over.

"She tripped over a stone and sprained her ankle." Steve briefly explained

"It was a very large stone actually." you chimed in.

"God sake Y/N, I thought something bad happened to you," Natasha said her voice still sounding quite panicky.

"Something bad did happen I sprained my ankle"

Steve let out a frustrated sigh and Natasha just shook her head.

"Can you put me down now?" you asked Steve who was still carrying you.

"I thought you said you couldn't walk," Steve said gently putting you down.

"I never said I couldn't walk I said I didn't want to walk."

"It doesn't matter let go and put some ice on it," Natasha said putting her arm around your waist and you slowly limped back inside.

---⧗---

"what am I going to do with you Y/N?" Natasha asked as she handed you some painkillers and a glass of water then placed a bag of frozen peas on your ankle.

"Lock me in a room and throw away the key?" You said quietly chuckling then you took the meds that you were given.

"Don't tempt me," She replied sitting down beside you.

"It hurts a lot," You said while wincing.

"The meds will kick in soon and it won't hurt as much."

Natasha picked up the TV remote and put on your favourite movie.

While it was playing you felt yourself getting tired.

"Thank you for taking care of me Nat," you said sleepily.

"You welcome, sweetheart," she said quietly.

A slight smile appeared on Natasha's face as she put her arm around you while you moved closer to her.

You ended up falling asleep in the safety and comfort of her arms.

---⧗---

Taglist

@saraaahsstuff // @marvelnatasha12346 // @amolapasta // @knox145 // @ducktamer415 // @romanoffliviv

Go HERE to be added to the taglist

[leeeeeeeeech]

Desperate Measures

( Beej is attempting to haunt a pretty boring breather. Unfortunately for him, they are very dumb. He gets frustrated, hilarity ensues.)

For years, my life has followed a monotonous routine. Wake up, go to work, come home, eat, and then repeat it all over again. It's not a particularly exciting life, but it is mine, and I have grown accustomed to its predictability. However, recently, strange occurrences had begun to disrupt this routine.

One morning, while preparing my usual breakfast of toast and eggs, I experienced something bizarre. My old toaster, which had seen better days, suddenly acted as if it had received an upgrade from a sci-fi movie. It hummed and sputtered, and to my amazement, two slices of toast levitated out of it. They hung in mid-air, their once white surfaces now blackened and smoking. I found myself staring in disbelief, my outstretched hand halted just inches from the hovering toast. As quickly as they had risen, the slices dropped to the counter with a thud.

Weird.

Shaken by the strange event, I decided to write it off as a momentary lapse of sanity. Maybe I was more tired than I thought? I shrugged, ate the burnt toast, and continued with my day.

My next task was grocery shopping, the highlight of today's events. I stepped into my car, which had seen better days, much like my toaster, and started the engine. As I drove, I couldn't help but notice a peculiar vehicle in my rearview mirror—a neon green Volkswagen Beetle with bold black stripes. It was a distraction waiting to happen, and I couldn't fathom why someone would drive such a garish car.

Arriving at the grocery store, I grabbed a shopping cart without much thought. But as I gripped the cart's handle, something caught my eye. The metal bar at the front, which had always been plain and unremarkable, now bore black stripes, just like the Beetle. And etched into the metal were two initials, "BJ."

Okay, can't write this one off as a coincidence. The letters were a strange choice, and I tried not to think about the obvious acronym those letters could stand for. I tried my best to remain calm and finish up my shopping.

After I checked out and drove home, the evening was back to its monotonous self. I prepared dinner for one, and sat down in the living room to watch a show. As soon as the TV flicked on, it was already on a TV show I didn't recognize. A green-haired man stood alone on a completely white set. He wore a strange suit with the same bold stripes I've been seeing all day. Just as I reached for the remote, the man started to speak.

"Is there something strange in your neighborhood? Something weird that you can't explain?" There was a very long pause, and for a moment it felt like the man was looking straight at me.

"Who should you call? Well me of course! Just call this number below!"

I stared at the screen. It felt like all the strange events of the day were converging. I watched as the man on the TV grinned, showing unnaturally sharp teeth as the number flashed across the screen.

"This isn't just a commercial, is it?" I question aloud, my voice practically quivering. I gasped as the man on the screen winked in response. His dark eyes twinkled with an other-worldly mischief that sent shivers down my spine.

In a panic I decided to turn off the TV and just go to bed. This was all way too strange for my liking, and I needed a break from the bizarre events that had unfolded throughout the day. Maybe a good night's rest would help me regain my grip on reality.

As I headed to my bedroom, my steps sluggish and my mind still racing, I could hear the TV flick back on. I froze in my tracks, my heart pounding as the familiar commercial continued to play. It was as if the man's voice refused to be silenced.

"OH COME ON!" His voice boomed from the living room, a mixture of frustration and desperation.

I clenched my fists, my patience wearing thin. This was beyond anything I had ever encountered. I wanted nothing more than to escape this unsettling situation, but it seemed that the situation had other plans.

"I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR MEEEE." The voice grew louder, more insistent, echoing through the house.

I walked back into the living room, and stared the man down.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice quivering with a mixture of fear and frustration. I just wanted this nightmare to be done with, to return to the life I had known, where toasters toasted bread and commercials were just commercials.

The man on the TV remained silent for a beat, his dark eyes locked onto mine, unblinking. It was as if he could see into the depths of my soul.

And then, his voice emanated from the TV once more, a sly, almost seductive tone. "Just say my name."

I blinked, disbelief washing over me. "What?" I stammered, my mind reeling. Now, I was certain that this had to be a dream, a bizarre and twisted dream that I desperately wanted to wake up from.

The man's lips curled into a mischievous grin, and he leaned in closer to the screen. "Say my name," he repeated, his words carrying a weight of anticipation.

---------

This is already pretty long, so I'll make a part two!

[dontbelasagnax]

Art Preview for @codywanreversebang

So excited to share a sneak peek of the artwork I've made for this year's Codywan Reverse Bang. @shortcuts-make-long-delays (ao3 here), @inkformyblood (ao3 here), and historical_allusions have been the most lovely writers to work with <3

Fic Previews under the cut!

1. from historical_allusions

“Let me know if you have any food allergies and I can probably recommend something,” Cody offers. “Nothing too sweet. Wouldn’t want to shock your system.”

“No allergies. Next time I’m here, I’ll let you do your worst,” Obi-Wan says, raising his newly filled mug of tea to Cody in a small toast.

Cody can feel a blush starting to rise on his cheeks and hopes he has enough melanin in his skin it’s not obvious. Is Obi-Wan flirting? And is Cody flirting back? Or is that just how people drink tea now, with all that direct eye contact. This is exactly why Cody doesn’t work the counter.

He's about to make a tactical retreat when someone burst through the doors--

2. from QuickSilverFox3

The response is a crash, the shock of porcelain against tiles, and an effluent set of swearing all muddled together. Cody is already moving, undoing the latch and making his way to the kitchen where he had just been able to make out the shape of a person through the makeshift wall of shelves. It’s an action without thought, without a reason except that he couldn’t not. It would kill him one day, he knows.

“Hello, sorry, two seconds— Oh.”

Cody stops, blinks, and does the only thing he can think of. “Sorry. I— Yeah, sorry.”

The man pushes himself back to his feet, his tan trousers dark at the knees due to the water he had knelt in, smoothes his hands over his sides and leaves a secondary set of dark fingerprints before he offers a hand to Cody. “Obi-Wan Kenobi. I would offer you a cup of tea and to come in, but I seem to be having bother with half of that intention today.”

Cody bites his tongue, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and shakes Obi-Wan’s hand. There are calluses on the sides of his fingers, a ridge across the base of them and, curiously enough, ink stains splattered over his skin like he has been playing a losing game of dot to dot with the constellation of freckles he possesses. “I’m Cody, I used to live here and I am truly sorry about barging in. I heard the crash and wanted to help.”

His urge to help might just kill him now out of sheer secondhand embarassment.

3. from Shortcuts-make-long-delays

“You wouldn’t, perhaps, be able to help me pick out a breadloaf, would you?”

Cody clicked his mouth shut and nodded, barely remembering to put his Sudoku book down before walking over to the shelves with the bread. “Anything in particular today?” he asked, preemptively grabbing a bag and trying to recover any semblance of professionalism.

“Well, see,” the man started, fidgeting again, “that’s just the thing. I’m not entirely sure. You see, I’m on my way to my brother’s and I said I would pick something up to go with dinner, but there are so many options here, that I, well-” he tapered off with a shrug.

“A little overwhelmed?” Cody offered.

“Just so,” the man nodded. “The twins, my niece and nephew, that is, they are just reaching the stage where they are extremely picky about what they eat. Well, Leia is. I’m sure Luke is too, actually, I think he is just less vocal about it. He’s really been avoidant of textures with seeds lately, but anyway, I’m getting terribly off subject,” the man sighed. Cody found the rambling cute.

Taking a breath, the man continued, “The point is, french bread has been declared an enemy of the palate according to the princess, and I need to find a substitute that will pair well with a pasta dish and according to my sister-in-law simply throwing Wonder Bread in the toaster is not an acceptable option.”

He finished his monologue with a huff and a pout and Cody couldn’t quite stifle the laugh in time. Gorgeous and adorable, Cody noted. And good with kids, a voice that sounded too much like Fox for his liking, also noted.

Now isn't that amazing!! Just a taste of the fics my collaborators have whipped up!

[tarinb]

the big 4 to keep house

its been almost 2 years since I left working outside the home. I've learned a lot about keeping house and managing family life.

I heard on a podcast that if you can move forward with TDL (trash, dishes, laundry) every day, you will be able to maintain a functional home. Maybe not perfectly clean, but functional.

I'm obsessed with figuring out how to spend less time on housework and really just making it more effortless. I want to make progress even if I get interrupted in between tasks (which is highly likely). Here's the order I've been doing these tasks:

Layer #1: trash & recycling. After breakfast I grab a Target bag and walk through the whole downstairs picking up literal garbage. Wrappers, egg shells, paper towels, toddler art (not sorry).

Guess what? If I get interrupted after this layer, at least I'm not living amongst trash.

Layer #2: dishes. This is the one I want to leave for last, but I've realized how important it is. For me, the state of the kitchen is a microcosm for the state of the house. Cooking most meals from home, the kitchen is a war zone. I empty the dishwasher then I collect all dishes from the family, living, and kitchen. After all the dirty dishes are in the dishwasher, I clean the kitchen sink. (This has been the most satisfying result from this whole process)

If I get interruped after this layer, at least I have clean dishes and a place to cook later.

Layer #3: laundry. I've moved to doing one load a day. But not on weekends. I collect the laundry from upstairs, and dirty clothes left downstairs, then put on a load. Then I bring up the load that is dry from the day before and fold it/put it away. It sounds like a lot, but this whole process is probably 10-15 minutes a day.

If I get interrupted after this layer, at least we have clean clothes and don't have dirty clothes laying around.

Layer #4: everything out of its place. I added this layer myself. Now is the time to put the toaster away, replace the couch cushions, help toddler put toys in shelf, etc. This one is honestly my last priority because I know that the main beasts (trash, dishes, laundry) have been slain. But it does feel nice to return everything to order.

I skip some layers on the weekends: laundry and everything out of place. I really can't skip trash and dishes. Without clean dishes, I have no motivation to cook!

This sounds like it would take a long time each day, but each day that I do it, it gets shorter and shorter. Plus, I only do this process once a day. I am not a night cleaner. Morning is when I have my best energy for these types of tasks. I have no qualms going to bed while the house is messy.

What are the tasks you have to do every day to keep your household running?

[yonderlad]

I cleaned a corner of our kitchen today.

I know that doesn't sound like much, and a few years ago, when I worked in kitchens full time, I would have scoffed at that. "Oh you cleaned a corner of your home kitchen? I've just washed up after we cooked and served for 300 people."

But I've not been quite the same person over the last few years. I can, like most people I think, probably say I've not been the same person since before Covid. Or even earlier, January 2020, when I had my first public meltdown that would become many a week. Maybe that's when I stopped my growth and healing and started to decline again.

This last year, especially, has been hard. The stability of living in a place where they couldn't kick you out, was always balanced by the fear of not being able to pay rent. Or that it would be rice for dinner for a few days until the paycheque came in.

And then my body failed me. I try not to use language where I blame my body for doing it's best - try to think of a body "failing" me only if and when I die - but this really did feel like a betrayal. A body that used to carry me 10,000 steps before dawn, that could walk 12 miles a day for fun, was suddenly barely able to carry me out of bed. Couldn't tie my shoes for me, or shower.

Couldn't cook dinner. Couldn't clean.

I am...very lucky. In this life, I have a wonderful, most adoring fiancé who, when I say "how do you put up with me?" says "I'm not putting up with anything, I love you." Who has tirelessly worked the 45 hours of physical labour, versus my 16 hour desk job, and then still, without complaint and with endless kindness, come home to feed me, dress me, and wash me. I would not have made it through without them, before we even touch on the love we have for each other, and the happiness we bring.

We got my medication sorted in September, and it would be foolish to ignore the effect it has had on me. I am less fatigued, no longer taking naps daily after work, no longer routinely sleeping fourteen hours. I feel brighter, my nails are no longer peeling, my arms no longer getting pins and needles after moments.

But it hasn't fixed everything. And it's starting to look like it never will.

The pain prevails, joints flaring up at any given moment into pain, or stiffness. I cannot shake the numbness that sinks into my thigh if I stand for too long, leaving no sensation except pressure.

I'm still tired. I still catch up on sleep on my days off.

But today, for the first time in months, I made food. I cooked. Once my greatest hobby and my job, since lost to me, this evening I regained a little of my dignity and myself back. My partner still chopped the vegetables, the slap-chop we bought to make their - our- lives easier making quick work of onion, carrot, peppers. But I sautéd and seasoned and stirred. I checked the tomato puree was still good in the old way I used to that always made people laugh. I added a splash of balsamic - not in the recipe, but at home in nearly every tomato based dish - and deglazed a pan in improvised glory.

And then I cleaned down after myself. Put the toaster away, wiped the counter tops until they gleamed, put the frying pan in the sink.

And I can only see it as progress. And that can only bring me joy.

[grabyoursaintsandpray]

Crack fic - Too many beds

This isn't the strangest thing I've ever written but it's definitely up there.

The blame for this is because of a ruined trope prompt of 'Too many beds' and being egged on by @bluemoonperegrine who suggested what if they were trapped in a haunted IKEA, it made me laugh and while not haunted I absolutely ran with the IKEA prompt.

This was entirely written on the notes in my phone (which has no spell check) while in the back of someone's car over the course of an hour because I couldn't shake the idea. So excuse any typos or grammar.

Read on for an accurate layout of IKEA (I feel like I lived in there a few years ago when I moved house, this brought back bad memories honestly)

Did I mention crack fic? 1600 words of crack. This isn't making it onto AO3 😅

🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️

It seemed easy and that should have been the first clue really she thought. Her and Jack had been chasing a witch and they had tailed them to IKEA of all places.

It was closed for the night but the witch had unlocked the doors and turned the lights on so they followed her in.

"Why would she come here?" Elsa questioned to herself but she saw Jack shrug beside her.

She'd definitely chased bad guys through scarier places than this, it would be a walk in the park and maybe she'd get some ideas for her bedroom while she was at it.

They prowled through the living room layouts but the witch was nowhere to be seen.

Strange she thought to herself as she crouched to look underneath a fake mahogany table just in case.

"Elsa!" Jack called excitedly and she turned to see him holding up a purple throw pillow "This would really set off the colour of the walls"

She blinked blankly at him, had he been reading housekeeping magazines without her noticing?

She checked under more tables and behind sofa's to no avail all the while Jack kept up a constant stream of chatter about things he liked.

"This rug would look great in the hall" He called as she angrily slammed a drawer shut in frustration.

Nothing in the workspace area, though there was a desk she thought she might come back for at a later date and Jack helpfully span around on a multitude of computer chairs.

By the time they'd made it into the kitchen setups she'd kind of forgotten why they were even here. That was soon brought to the forefront of her mind as she narrowly avoided a chopping board to the head.

"Shit!" She yelled as she ducked just in time, the wooden board slamming into a row of taps behind her.

"You'll never take me alive!" The witch screamed popping up from behind a marble counter, cutlery floating around her head.

Jack was busy opening and closing a cabinet door so didn't spot the danger, she grabbed his arm and yanked him to safety just as knives and forks clattered around them.

There was one last smash of glass before Elsa deemed it safe to stand back up, Jack was looking forlornly at the shards on the floor and didn't join her.

"I really liked that caffetier" he told her dejected before he too stood.

The witch was standing in the arch leading to the next area cackling wildly "I'm more powerful than you can even imagine" she pointed at them menacingly then fled.

Weird but what about this wasn't honestly.

Elsa made to follow with Jack trailing behind when she heard rattling and then a horrid scraping sound. Almost in slow motion she turned in time to see a kitchen drawer squealing along the linoleum towards them.

"What the" but she didn't get time to finish her sentence as it leaped towards her head like a cat.

She yelped in surprise as she weaved and it clattered to the ground in front before scuffing it's way in a circle almost like it had turned to look at her, before it moved with shocking speed towards her ankles.

"Jack little help?" she asked wondering if he could see what was happening while she kicked the sentient wood away from her.

"Busy!" He called back and she glanced at him to see he was holding a toaster at arms length while the power cord attempted to wrap around his neck like a python. Alright then, he really was busy.

In her distraction the drawer had gotten closer and she felt it ram into her kneecap "Son of a bitch!" Right that was it, now she was pissed.

With a shout of fury, she jumped landing inside the drawer and causing the flimsy chipboard to crack beneath her weight. Wasting no time she began stomping the stupid thing to death, until it was just chunks of material and dust.

She heard Jack yell in pain and had no time to revel in besting kitchen furniture as she ran over to help him. She swiped a thankfully inanimate frying pan from a display and like a cricketer going up to bat, took an almighty swing and sent the toaster flying across the room.

"Thanks" Jack croaked, rubbing at his reddened neck.

She nodded before sprinting to the next room, dreading what new horror awaited her.

She let out a sigh of relief as she realised they'd made it to the bedroom section, beds were far less scary than knives.

The witch was easy to spot on account of her still cackling manically but on seeing them she waved her arms around and Elsa heard more ominous banging and scraping.

"Oh give me a break" she grumbled as the witch darted away and her path was blocked by an angry bunk bed. Elsa had no idea how she knew it was angry, it was more of a feeling.

It moved with a grace that belied it's sheer size and she was struck with the realisation that this hitting them would hurt a hell of a lot more than a toaster.

She made a mad dash towards it and climbed onto the bottom bunk, trying to scramble through the gap and to the other side. She hadn't thought about sentient mattresses but soon did as she felt it moving below her, the side tilting up to stop her escape.

She managed to get through even as she felt it enclose around her ankle but with a swift tug she pulled it free landing onto the floor with a thump.

She sprang to her feet, looking around wildly for Jack.

"Up here" he called to her and she found him holding to the top of a sturdy oak wardrobe for dear life, two single beds banging into either side.

There wasn't much time to stare as she felt something collide with the back of her knees causing her to fall backwards onto something soft. Silk sheets soon started to try and mummify her body as the mattress undulated beneath her.

She tipped herself forward, taking joy in ripping the silk that gripped her. She'd never understood the urge to use it, it was so slippery to try and sleep on.

It was a short-lived victory as she eyed more beds and loose mattresses getting closer. Outrunning the one on her heels she quickly scrambled up to join Jack using a doorknob as a foothold, thankful that this bit of furniture wasn't currently alive.

She watched heart sinking as more and more beds came from all around the room, circling their lone wardrobe like a pack of wolves. The ones closest banging into it and causing it to rock, it would tip over sooner rather than later and she dreaded to think what would happen when it did.

"There's too many beds!" Jack yelled voice tinged with terror.

He was right, she knew it but she couldn't face this being their last stand. Maybe she could buy him some time so at least one of them could make it out of here alive.

"Jack you have to run, I'll distract them"

"What? No, we go together or not at all" he told her shaking his head in denial.

"We'll never make it, this way you have a chance" When he looked about to object again, she shoved him backwards with a palm on his chest "Go Jack!" She told him firmly as she leapt down from the wardrobe they were clinging to before he could change her mind.

A queen size bed was there to catch her fall and the others quickly gathered around her like hungry lions.

She watched as the corners of the fitted sheet started to curl in towards her and Jack looked down at her sadly before she saw him leap to freedom behind the distracted beds "I love you" she muttered while tears tracked down her face.

As the mattress folded over like a clam trapping her within its depths, she screamed and flailed her arms in sheer fright.

Suddenly she was awake, in the dark and on her back looking at the bed that she had just flung herself out of. Her throat hurt so she must have been screaming in her sleep.

"Elsa?" Jack queried sleepily before his head appeared over her side of the mattress "Are you okay? Why are you on the floor?"

She stood up and god her arse ached so she'd most likely landed funny and no doubt it would be bruised in the morning, there was something to look forward to.

"I'm fine, just a bad dream" She told him before sliding back into bed, his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer.

"I'll keep hold so you don't fall out again" He mumbled already starting to fall back to sleep. She smiled a tiny heartfelt grin, he was such a sap.

As she settled down heart slowing back to normal, her dream came back to her in flashes. A strange consequence of spending so many weekends furniture shopping in between monster hunting as they redecorated the manor together.

"Jack?" She began softly and he hmmed quietly "I don't think we should buy any more furniture from IKEA"

"M'okay" He agreed easily and she knew she'd have more of a fight on her hands tomorrow when she'd have to explain further because for some reason Jack loved the place, her dream self hadn't imagined his enthusiasm but for now it was enough to put her mind at ease.

She still eyed the mattress with a touch of suspicion before sleep claimed her once more.

[chernayavidua]

Are there any ships you can’t stand, why?

OUT OF WIDOW !!

i will preface this by saying that if any mutuals reading this write any of the mentioned ships, please do not take offense to my opinions. these are opinions formed due to fandom's takes on these ships/characters not rp. if you ship these wonderful ! i'm sure you do a much better job than like 90% of fandom !!

                 meren i don't know if you're doing it on purpose or not but you sent me the questions i can rant about for days on end. love that and you ! so this might be a spicy take or not who knows but the ships i can't stand are the ones that fandom really likes. stu.cky is one of them because most of the things i've seen over the years on here are posts about how either steve or bucky are these useless cinnamon rolls that need to be protected and bubble wrapped as if one didn't willingly fight during a damn war and the other wasn't turned into a trained killer. the blogs/fans who write them likes this usually write steve and bucky as being too dumb for modern technology and like they can't work a toaster. which really is, in my opinion, an insult to not only the characters themselves but also the fans who know how to write them properly. ( steve literally memorized the map from the compound in cap 1 due to the serum but yeah, let's just forget that for shits and giggles ) as a steve writer myself, i could go on about this but i'll stop here by simply saying that steve and bucky are complex and those that only see them as uwu soft bois only take the movies at face value and can't look deeper / not willing to go beyond cotton candy fluff. i will say that i have read some pretty darn good stu.cky takes on my dash over the few years i've been rping here. it isn't the ship itself but how fandom has twisted it and almost fetishized it that makes me not like the ship tbh

                 another is ste.ggy and this is mainly because of the fans, the actress, and the writers of what if. ( and to an extent chris too ) peggy shooting at steve in cap 1 is not the Female Empowerment move everyone thought it was / thinks it is. it was a move prompted out of jealousy for someone she hardly even knew all because she saw him kissing another woman. which i'm pretty sure is frowned upon by many when male characters do it and they aren't even shooting bullets at anyone. and steve going back in time to a woman he knew for, say, a handful of months at best makes no sense when taking into account everything he'd been through since being taken out of the ice. steve literally saw how peg/gy had moved on and made a whole life for herself and he chose to meddle with that why? bc chris wanted to kiss haley again? yawn. natasha and ban/ner is another one but i think everyone collectively erased that from their mind because it was so out of freaking left field it made as much sense as the makeup department deciding bleaching sj/o''s eyebrows. however, i think this ship can be written a million times better by rpers and i could get behind it in rp. ( i've read some good interactions with these two tbh )

                 again, most of the things i've seen on the fandom side of tumblr about these ships 100% exclude their female counterparts in canon ( comics ) and hate on not only the characters but also the actresses ---mainly emily--- which is very gross. and of course my favorite female characters aka natasha and sharon are pushed aside and turned into the bad guys for keeping the uwu yt boi away from their true love because apparently men cannot be friends with other men and breath in the same direction as them without it meaning they're in love. platonic male friendships are extremely important not only irl but also in fiction. i believe that people can in fact ship these characters together without diminishing, villinizing or slutshaming the important women in their lives, but majority of fandom simply doesn't see it that way.

mun questions ➢ always accepting

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 8, Part 1 ("The Inns and Outs of Inns")

I'm skipping past the second half of the previous episode (I really couldn't think of anything interesting to say about it. It was that whole thing where Rory and Paris get initated into The Puffs, and the Mother/Daughter Fashion Show). You can read my previous reviews here.

This lady held out her cup for a refill. Jess looks down at the mug and walks right past her. I found his terrible customer service inexplicably delightful. I'd say she was gonna stiff him out of a tip for that move, but no one in Stars Hollow tips anyway.

Jess: It's 7:45 am, do you want me to go to school or openly defy child labor laws? Idk, I think you should have a word with the Walmart corporation first, the place hired a 17 year old to drive a forklift during school hours. Luke: Stay out of trouble. Jess: Guess that means calling off the chickie run down at the salt flats. What in the everliving hell does that even mean? What teenager talks like that in 2001, the Year of our Lord? Damn you, AmyShermanPalladino. *sighs deeply*. *Opens Google* "A chickie run is a high-speed drag race toward the edge of a steep bluff above the ocean using stolen cars." It's apparently a reference to the movie Rebel Without A Cause with James Dean. Well, I learned some pointless new information today. Thank you, Mr Mariano. You may not serve customers their coffee but you do serve up hot steaming cups of old timey references. Lorelai and Sookie: We're coming up with names for the new inn. Michel: How about the Money Pit? The Outhouse? The Inn Headed for Bankruptcy?

Heh heh.

I only recall seeing a police car in Stars Hollow two other times (when Kyle's party got busted up and the time Jess comes back in season 4 and gets pulled over? Am I forgetting anything?). Here's the big emergency that called the mythical, rarely seen Stars Hollow Police into town. Spoiler alert: It was some chalk.

And now this pathetic town of bored people with nothing better to do are going to call an emergency meeting over some chalk. Taylor is fa-reaking the fuck out.

Taylor: I've got a dead body outside of my store! Sheriff: No, you have a chalk outline in front of your store.

Sheriff: My partner's out doing a headcount to see if anyone is missing. Until then, just hang tight. Let me remind you how many people live in Stars Hollow. Sometimes it may seem like you only see the same 15 people over and over, but the mind can play dirty tricks on you.

Yes Taylor, just hang tight for a few minutes while one police officer does a head count of nearly 10,000 people. A police officer going around counting people to see if anyone happens to be dead is one of my favorite bits of absurdity in the entire show. 30 seconds later:

Golly that was fast!

Heh heh heh. It is a pretty stupid prank. I think most of Jess' pranks are amateur at best. I believe in his potential. He could come up with something way better. The people of Stars Hollow deserved to be Punk'd for how they treat him. I give this one an A though, because it pissed everyone off so thoroughly, and that's all that matters.

Gilmore Girls wardrobe department: LAYERS! MORE LAYERS, DAMN IT! Wardrobe Assistant: He's in a shirt under a shirt under a vest! I cannot layer anymore! *cries*

Sooo purdy.

Luke jamming a screwdriver into a toaster is highly erotic.

It goes without saying that from here on out we are going to be pausing often to admire screen shots of Jess with absolutely no context. Tomatos Sign: Spotted

Oh, we haven't gotten to the part where Jess murders Shane and dumps her body in the lake. We'll get to that in season 3. In my gritty Gilmore Girls reboot titled The Hollow, there could be several justified homicides. For one example, it's canon that Luke never throws Taylor off a bridge, so my reboot would seek to correct this.

HE'S JUST A LITTLE GUY LET HIM SULK AND LURK What the hell else is there to do in Stars Hollow anyway? The image of Jess of visiting an arts and crafts store is pretty hilarious.

What the hell is AmyShermanPalladino's obsession with swans? "Swans scream one thing, Mom. Sigfried and Roy." Ah yes, another fine early 2000's tasteless "gay" insult. Luke & Lorelai are discussing the grave consequences of missing or even being late to a town meeting. To which I say, if Taylor threatens you, just tell him you're gonna squeal to the Feds about all of his shady financial crimes. That'll shut him right up.

He's been in town for like what, a week and he's already a "situation". I think that's awesome. Your mere existence on this Earth is so powerful that you've thrown an entire community into disarray. Good for you, baby. Good for you.

May I remind you again they are calling this community meeting because of some chalk. "When Mrs. Lanahan couldn't buy lettuce from my store, she drove straight to Woodbury instead." You know what, I just gotta bide my time and let the nutcase rant, because Walmart will eventually drive him out of business for good and in a double scoop of justice, I have faith that he'll also be taken down for his money laundering crimes.

This committee of 85 year olds will seal Jess Mariano's fate. It looks like Hell's waiting room. Jess loves a good town meeting because it's the only time he gets to stay home and whack off in private. Luke tries to give Taylor $1 for a head of letuce (actually, first he asks "how much is a head of lettuce?" which is something he should know if he's running a diner, but I digress. "The CHARGES against your nephew are numerous!" Let's hear them, shall we? He stole the "Save the Bridge" money. But Taylor was going to launder that money, what will he do now? He stole a gnome from Babette's garden. He "hooted" one Miss Patty's dance classes. Please try to imagine Jess ever "hooting" a woman (uhh, she means catcalling...I guess? I could see him calling out some sarcastic quip/witty observation though. He took a garden hose. Why Jess? Why? How did they know he did it? What did he intend to do with it? Where did he keep it? With the 500 baseballs he stole from the school? He set off the fire alarms at school last week. This is a more serious prank that would have gotten him in big trouble if he was caught. And again, Lane and Dean go to this school. Hello? I know at this point Jess and Rory don't know each other well, but that's still major gossip, so why are Rory's boyfriend and best friend always keeping this stuff from her? I am Jess Mariano's defense lawyer and every last thing my client does to annoy the citizens of Stars Hollow is justified. Lorelai, sarcastically: I heard he controls the weather and wrote the screenplay to Glitter** (**a movie starring Mariah Carey that came out in 2001 and is regarded as one of the worst movies of all time and was a box office bomb and possibly the biggest blight ever on MC’s career). You know, Lorelai is being sarcastic by saying she thinks Jess controls the weather but she hates him so much I wouldn't put it past her that she actually believes that. I mean, she already believes that the sun shines out of Dean Forrester's ass. Bootsy: I never like the look of that kid, I knew he was bad as soon as I saw him. AGAIN HE'S BEEN HERE FOR LIKE A WEEK. The subject of the meeting turns from Jess to piling onto Luke for no good reason, and my man Lucas is just about to burst a blood vessel defending himself and Jess from these nutjobs. I honestly couldn't love him more. He's so REAL. Please don't stroke out on us, we need you. Taylor: "There is a consensus among all the towns people that Stars Hollow was a much better place before Jess got here." Kindly go to hell, Taylor Doose.

Dean spending two days on his hands and knees scraping Jess' prank from cement is a beautiful kind of justice. Edit: A commenter made me wonder how Jess made his artwork stick to the cement. Off to Google I went once again. Apparently you can use hairspray to set chalk art, but professional chalk artists use high grade varnishes to set their designs. Jess never half-asses anything. He puts his whole, cute little ass in. You also have to wonder how in a town full of unemployed busy bodies with nothing better to do than notice everything that goes on in town right down to when Rory Gilmore farts, not a single person heard or saw any of this happening. Lorelai fretting that the Independence will be sold to a corporate hotel chain is realistic and it would inevitably happen in my gritty Gilmore Girls reboot titled The Hollow. The Independence Inn would become a Holiday Inn, Luke's would become a Starbucks, Doose's would become a Walmart, and Dean Forrester's house would be a parking lot after a meteor crashed through the roof.

Someone should bash your head in with a safe.

Never in the history of mankind has a single individual sown so much havoc with a single stick of chalk.

Every time I look at that wool jacket lining I feel super itchy.

The captions should really say "okuh", and not "okay." Because that was a stellar "okuh". Get it right. Just another injustice perpetuated against Jesstopher Mariano.

Oh, she did. To be continued in Part 2 so I can add more screen shots.

[dr-annie]

✨Incorrect quotes✨

STRIKER :

Striker: When do I get my own gun?

Annie: I wouldn’t trust you with my kid’s lightsaber.

Striker: I was arrested for being too cool.

Annie: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

Striker, in a beach shirt: So sue me, it's October and I'd like to be on Island Time for a day!

Annie: I have Spotify open right now on my computer, do you want me to blast you? Do you want me to put you on blast? Cuz I've got your history right here on the sidebar,

Annie: Take it Back by Jimmy Buffet, Nautical Wheelers by Jimmy Buffet, Jolly Mon Sing by Jimmy Buffet, Steamer by Jimmy Buffet, trEAT HER LIKE A LADY BY JIMMY BUFFET, MAÑANA BY JIMMY BUFFET, WHEN SALOME PLAYS THE DRUMS BY JAMES BUFFET, HAVANA DAYDREAMIN BY JIMMY BUFFET- What the FUCK happened to you?!

Striker, laughing: I HAD A CASE OF THE MONDAYS

Annie: ARE YOU HAUNTED?! ARE YOU FUCKING POSSESSED?!

Annie: YOU USED TO BE MY FRIEND

Striker, cry-laughing: ᴵ ᴴᴬᴰ ᴬ ᶜᴬˢᴱ ᴼᶠ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴹᴼᴺᴰᴬʸˢ

Annie: Fight me!

Striker: *gets on one knee and pulls out a ring*

Striker: Fight me for the rest of our lives..

Striker: Smart is attractive. Educate me on something I don't know!

Annie: The mouth of a jellyfish is also an anus.

Striker: Stop.

Striker: *angrily presses Annie against a wall* WHERE'S THE MONEY?!

Annie: ...

Annie: Are we about to kiss-

Striker: Babe, you're so funny!

Annie: We have 1492 days until your tragic premature death. You will break my trust three times before that happens, but I forgive you.

Striker: Awwww, that's sweet of you!

Striker: We wouldn’t last two minutes without Annie.

Striker:

Striker: Don’t tell them I said that.

Annie: I know how this must look but I can assure you we have a perfectly logical explanation.

Striker: Yeah! We’re cowards!

Annie: Why are you late?

Striker: A technical error occurred, causing an unexpectedly long bout of unconsciousness.

Annie: Overslept?

Striker: Overslept.

VELVETTE (red-velvette-cakes) :

Annie: So you like cats?

Velvette: Yeah.

Annie: *tries to impress them by slowly pushing a glass off the table*

Velvette: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake.

Annie: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear.

Velvette: ...

Velvette: You mean ring bearER, right?

Annie: ...

Velvette: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

Velvette: Is something burning?

Annie, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you.

Velvette: Annie, the toaster is literally on fire.

Annie: *Holding up a pack of pencils* These are kinda cute.

Velvette: Annie, that’s gay.

Annie: We’ve been dating for 2 years—

Velvette: We have a problem.

Annie: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

Annie: We should be partners.

Velvette: You mean like, partners in crime?

Annie: Yeah... that’s precisely what I meant.

Annie: Please say words of encouragement to me so I don’t murder someone right now.

Velvette: There are no books in prison.

Annie: *sighs* Thank you.

Velvette: You have your weirdly sincere humility.

Annie: I prefer the term "self-loathing", actually.

Annie: How do you want your coffee?

Velvette: Black, like my soul.

Annie:

Annie: Velvette, your soul is a latte.

Velvette walking into the kitchen and seeing all their limes peeled: Annie, I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK.

Annie, sipping coffee happily: I love you too :)

Velvette: This date is boring!

Annie: This isn't a date. I said I was going to the store.

Velvette: Then why did you invite me?

Annie: I didnt, I specifically said "don't come with me," then you said, "fuck you Annie I'll do whatever I want!

Annie: Well, Velvette and I finally did it!

The rest of the squad: *gasps, shocked expressions, etc.*

Annie: That's right... We kissed!

Velvette: How much did you spend on this date?

Annie: $1400. But all of it's on credit cards, so it's like $5 a month for the next 2,000 years.

Velvette: I feel like doing something stupid.

Annie: I’m stupid, do me.

Velvette: Annie, I…

Velvette: I love you!

Annie: Not my problem.

Annie, texting Velvette: Velvette there’s a moth on the outside of the bathroom door can you get rid of it?

Annie: Pls hurry because I’m going to cry

Annie: Velvette

Annie: Velvette

Velvette: Velvette is dead. You’re next. Love, Moth.

Velvette (ask-velvette-offical) :

Velvette: look Annie, I'm not slut shaming you but...

Velvette: Actually yeah, I'm TOTALLY slut shaming you.

Velvette : AWWWW ODETTE'S SO NICE! SHE'S WAY BETTER THAN ANNIE

Annie : well fuck you too!

Annie, turning to Velvette: Stop calling yourself hot, the only thing you can turn on is the microwave.

Velvette: Remember, if you die in the simulation—

Annie: Yeah, yeah, I know, if you die in the simulation you die in real life.

Velvette: What? No! You need to reset the simulation with the terminal! What is WRONG with you?!

Annie: You look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river.

Velvette: Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who just OD'd in their own pool. Big difference.

Annie: There. How do I look?

Velvette: Like a cheap French harlot.

Annie: French?!

Annie : I'M DUTCH MOTHERFUCKER!

Annie: We’ve found the person who stole your identity and was impersonating you.

Velvette: Where were they?

Annie: Eating cheetos and crying in their car.

Velvette, impessed: Damn, they really went for it.

Baxter :

Annie: Sleep is the body’s best safety mechanism.

Baxter: How so?

Annie: It keeps you from screwing up for 8 hours.

Annie, confused and exasperated: Baxter, how do you plan on telling a bear to go vegan?

Baxter: Politely.

Baxter: *raises eyebrows*

Annie: Put those back down!

*Annie and Baxter are texting*

Annie: Who are you? Someone changed the names in my phone.

Baxter: What did they change my name to?

Annie: Chosen One.

Baxter: Don’t change it back.

Annie: BUT WHO ARE YOU?!?!

Baxter: I’m the chosen one.

Baxter: You look really stressed.

Annie: Haha, it’s the stress.

Baxter : Annie are you okay?

Baxter: Hey Annie, can you give me the opposite of these words?

Baxter: Always, Coming, From, Take, Me, Down.

Annie: Never, Going, To, Give, You-

Annie: The fucking satisfaction.

*While planning to break in somewhere*

Baxter: Hey, let's do "Get Help!"

Annie: What?

Baxter: "Get Help."

Annie: No.

Baxter: C'mon, you love it!

Annie: I hate it.

Baxter: It's great! It works every time!

Annie: It's humiliating.

Baxter: Do you have a better plan?

Annie: No.

Baxter: We're doing it!

Annie: We are not doing "Get Help!"

*A Minute Later*

Baxter, carrying Annie: Get help! Please! They're dying! Help Them! *throws Annie at guards, knocking them out*

Baxter: Ahh, classic!

Annie: *gets up* I still hate it. It's humiliating.

Baxter, laughing: Not for me, it's not.

Baxter: *About to do something incredibly stupid*

Annie: I know I can't stop you, but I won't let you go by yourself.

Baxter: So, what's for dinner?

Annie, staring at the food they burnt: Regret.

(@ask-velvette-official @red-velvette-cakes @baxter-science-fish @the-cowboy-of-wrath)

[yaminerua]

idk what I was trying to do with this one tbh but it was a battle to get through it;;; I've also clearly been writing these with the worst posture imaginable because my back is killing me rip;;

Anyway we're pretty much halfway through the prompts now so let's hope I can keep this going for the rest of them!

As always, prompts are by @a-literal-toaster-wtf

Day 15's prompt was Garden, which made me think both of Kryten and of Rimmer's father.

Words: 4335

****

Rimmer’s father had been a gardener.

Even now the revelation felt strange to accept. He had spent so much of his life – his whole entire life, actually – trying to live up to the expectations of a man who could never be pleased and he’d never known why it had been so impossible, why it had felt so much like an unending uphill struggle. Now it made perfectly depressing sense.

He had been born into a losing battle, dealt a hand of dud cards and expected to try to make it work somehow without even knowing just how uneven the playing field he was being thrust into was. He’d never had a hope in hell of making his father proud. From the moment he was born the odds were stacked against him, his father’s bias for his biological sons an insurmountable obstacle he could never hope to overcome. It wouldn’t have even mattered if he had somehow outperformed his brothers in every conceivable way. It would simply never be enough, because Rimmer was not a Rimmer at all. And he’d never even known about it.

That realisation had been a bitter pill to swallow, the realisation that he had genuinely wasted his whole life seeking the approval of someone who would never see him as anything other than a failure – not just in his own right as the academic runt he had been throughout his school days, but also as an all too unpleasant reminder of the breakdown of a marriage that had been on a steady decline for years.

He could have been anyone’s son. His mother had unabashedly propositioned just about every male member of staff who had ever worked at or even breathed in the general vicinity of the Rimmer family home and many had taken her up on her offers. Any one of them could have fathered him. He could have had the genetic make-up of men with decorated military backgrounds, talented businessmen or successful spacefaring types but instead the universe had decided to go with the gardener, a man who stank of compost and spent most of his days babbling nonsense to himself while he watered the plants.

In retrospect, maybe he should have figured it out sooner. The curly hair certainly should have been a dead giveaway. None of his brothers had been plagued with unruly curls that needed to be forced into submission, and their father’s hair – when he had still had any – had been equally as tame. Ditzy old Dungo, however – or Dennis, as he had actually been named – had had a wild mop of curly brown hair that had always seemed as though it had a mind of its own, the way it had often appeared to be bursting forth from beneath his little tweed flat cap.

It had been a lot to take in. He hadn’t been meant to hear any of it until after he had achieved his goal of becoming an officer but he had listened to it anyway, when hope had seemed lost and he might never have had another chance to hear what his father would have said to him.

There was something horribly sour about learning that even if he had ever actually made it as an officer, the man whose approval he had worked so hard to do it for still wouldn’t have said he was proud of him.

He hadn’t really had time to process it in that moment. There had been more pressing matters at hand with the simulant ship lurking nearby waiting to destroy them. He couldn’t afford to slip into an identity crisis, or mourn the time he’d wasted on someone who wasn’t worth the effort. There would have been plenty of time for that later if they ever got out of that mess. In the meantime he had had to simply swallow down the shock, find some way to hurriedly rationalise it all and then try to come up with a plan.

Somehow, miraculously, he had managed it. The jolt of discovering his father hadn’t been his father at all had been oddly freeing, the weight of a lifetime of failed expectations and crushing disappointment slipping off him like water off a camel’s back for the first time ever in his life. For once, for that brief temporary little moment, he had been able to think clearly, unburdened by all the usual complicated hang-ups that had always previously clouded his resolve and made him doubt himself, and he had got them out of there.

In the aftermath, however, he had been forced to realise that truly accepting this revelation would be a much more long drawn out process.

Yes, he didn’t have to care what the man he had thought of as his father thought about him anymore, that was true, and it did come as a welcome relief after so long wondering what he had done wrong to realise that he hadn’t done anything. It had been his mother’s doing and he had been treated unreasonably unfairly for the simple crime of not being the fruit of his father’s loins. He didn’t have to respect a single thing the git had ever said to him ever again, didn’t have to be held back by him anymore. But that was far more easily said than done.

All his life he had worked to become something he wasn’t cut out to be, had tried to shape himself to fit a mould he wasn’t made for and now that he knew it was pointless to keep trying, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t know who he was meant to be anymore.

How do you just throw away everything you thought you had to be all at once? What’s left of yourself when everything you’ve become was built around trying to meet those expectations? Who will you become afterwards?

Rimmer sighed heavily and shook his head, no closer now to coming up with an answer to any of those questions than he had been when the revelation had been fresh and new. In many ways he had almost avoided having to think about any of it, decided paradoxically that maybe it was simply easier to continue as he had been instead of suddenly trying to turn around and change anything, to swim against a current he had been going along with for as long as he could remember. He had spent his whole life trying to achieve something that might have always been impossible for him but since he had spent so long pushing for it, it somehow felt more like a waste to give up on it now.

What else was there for him to do anyway?

Striding swiftly through corridor after corridor, stewing as he so often did these days in his own miserable, complicated thoughts, he found himself coming suddenly to an abrupt stop outside the doors to a section of the ship he had rarely had cause to visit before.

He had always thought it would just be a dead, filthy place, littered with the dried out remains of what might once have been plants, or a rotting, putrid fungal nightmare. Perhaps, it could have even become an untameable jungle wilderness attempting to burst free from its confines and take over the rest of the ship after so long left unattended. Either way he hadn’t wanted to go anywhere near it pretty much at all in the years since he had been resurrected as a hologram. He simply hadn’t wanted to deal with whatever colossal clean-up job it might have required so he had decided to pretend that that whole area just didn’t exist at all.

He had been surprised, then, to find some time later that Kryten had taken it upon himself to restore the Botanical Gardens to their former lush, verdant glory and had largely succeeded in his endeavours.

It had taken him a while, of course. Most of the plant life that had once been there had long-since died from the lack of having anyone to tend to them anymore and as a result there had been plenty of mess to clean up in the form of mould and fungus and gummed up drainage systems and a lot of leftover organic matter but, naturally, the old bog bot had thrown himself into his cleaning duties with great enthusiasm and had eventually managed to make the place look decent and respectable again.

If that had been all he had intended to do with the place, Rimmer would have understood. Kryten was programmed to clean so having a humongous filthy mess to clean was surely a sanitation bot’s version of a wet dream but after he had completed the arduous task he had continued to disappear down to the Botanical Gardens on the regular anyway. Apparently, according to Lister, caring for a garden had been a long-held dream for Kryten, something he had fantasised about for years well before they had ever happened upon him waiting in the crashed Nova-5, and now that he had a generously sized garden all to himself he was making the absolute most of it.

Stepping in tentatively, Rimmer peered around looking for any signs of Kryten. He hoped fervently that for now the know-it-all git would be presently engaged elsewhere on the ship, perhaps deep in the middle of a corridor clean that would keep him busy for hours. Either way, he simply didn’t want to have to talk to him if he could help it.

Hearing no obvious signs of there being anyone else around, Rimmer let his shoulders slacken just a bit and wandered further into the humid warmth, astonished by just how green the place really was. He had to admit that Kryten had done a good job. It wasn’t entirely unlike the gardens he had seen back home, cultivated and maintained with great care and attention to detail.

On a volatile, hostile moon like Io, the only way to sustain life had been to create large domes within which the population would reside, supported by an artificially generated breathable atmosphere and a manually controlled climate system to keep the place comfortably temperate. In a way they had almost served like large botanical gardens of a sort themselves, every single plant grown there placed purposefully and intentionally. Nothing could grow on its own on Io without help to get it started.

A frown creased Rimmer’s features as he made his way through the different sections, looking over the variety of plants and greenery that somehow still managed to thrive so very far from the Earth their ancestors had originated on. He didn’t know how Kryten had managed it, how he had found what he’d needed to make it possible, but then he didn’t really know the first thing about gardening so maybe it had been easier than he could imagine.

As a child, he had largely kept away from interacting with the gardener who came to tend to the plants. His father – or the man he had thought was his father – had warned him not to talk to him, to keep away and not get any funny ideas, and Rimmer had obediently followed orders, tried not to stick so much as a toe out of line in the hopes that it would garner him even the slightest bit of acknowledgement for his good behaviour.

Sometimes, however, avoiding interaction had been somewhat impossible.

There had been plenty of times when he had run off into the garden to escape the antics of his older brothers, concealing himself amongst the bushes and shrubs only to find himself met with the person he had been told to keep his distance from.

Dungo – Dennis, no, Dad – had always been very gentle with him in a way that had felt strange and unfamiliar. There had always been a warmth about him, a kindness behind his hazel eyes that he had never felt from his own parents and it was only now, with the benefit of sorely needed context, that Rimmer wondered whether it had been because he had known what Rimmer himself had not.

Had Dennis known that Rimmer was his son? Had he been trying to reach out, only for Rimmer to continuously pull away? He supposed he would never know.

He reached out, absently, and gently took hold of the leaf of a nearby plant, rubbing its smooth, waxy surface distractedly between his fingers, his mind many miles and many years away.

He didn’t hear Kryten come in until it was too late to avoid him.

“Oh, Mister Rimmer, sir, I didn’t see you there.”

Startled, Rimmer’s hand jerked involuntarily back away from the plant before he could loosen his grip, the resultant motion plucking the unsuspecting leaf clean off its little stem, another small, unintentional casualty at the hands of Arnold J. Rimmer.

 “Kryten!” he cried, whipping his hands behind his back, crushing the fragile, delicate form of the severed leaf in his tightly gripped fist. “Where did you come from?”

Kryten blinked bemusedly at him for a moment before shaking his head and picking up a little watering can that had been left next to the flower plots. Tilting it slightly, he began to water the dainty little flowers closest to him, carefully regulating the flow so as not to completely saturate them.

“Oh, I’d just finished putting the latest batch of Mister Lister’s laundry on and thought I’d stop by to give my petunias a little top up,” he explained, moving now to water the next plants in line. For a brief, fleeting moment his eyes spotted the broken little stem on the plant nearest Rimmer and then he lowered his gaze again and pretended not to have noticed. “If I may, sir, I don’t recall seeing you down here before. Were you looking for me by any chance?”

“What? No, no,” Rimmer said quickly, shaking his head and turning to look down again at the plant he had just accidentally mutilated, an oddly sombre look taking up residence across his features. “I was just… looking.”

Kryten regarded him for a moment, unable to read his mood. “Oh, my apologies, sir. I didn’t realise you had an interest in botany.”

“I didn’t – I don’t!” Rimmer spluttered, defensive, before shaking it off and sighing, his shoulders lifting in some sort of non-committal half-shrug. “I mean, I’ve never given it any thought in particular. It’s just…” He trailed off, suddenly looking pensive and distant again.

“My father was a gardener,” he said eventually, wistfully, before frowning a little and adding: “My real father I mean.”

Understanding blossomed suddenly across Kryten’s face and he nodded sympathetically, recalling the moment they had all come to learn that same fascinating piece of information together. “Ah, yes. I did remember that. Did you know him, sir?”

“No, not at all! I hardly ever went near the man!” Rimmer snapped bitterly, something sour and unpleasant crumpling up his features, coiling like a snake in his gut. “My parents didn’t want me going near him. Or speaking to him. So I didn’t.”

Kryten didn’t say anything to that. He simply hummed in acknowledgement and busied himself with his plants, leaving Rimmer to stew in his own memories.

Rimmer watched him absently, feeling oddly detached, the experience bringing about a peculiar sense of deja-vu. He had watched his own father water the plants from a distance many times before, usually whenever he had been hiding from his brothers amongst the bushes and had had little else to pay attention to but sometimes he had simply been wandering looking for someone who would give him more than just a passing dismissive nod or a mischievously malevolent sneer. Dennis had usually been quick to spot him then and would always shoot him a friendly smile and an encouraging wave and try to coax him over to give him a shot at watering the plants and Rimmer had always wordlessly rejected the invitation, turning tail and running in the other direction and trodding all over the flowerbeds on his way out.

He wondered what would have happened if he’d ever taken him up on any of those offers, if he had actually taken the little watering can and given any of it a try. He wondered if his father – his real father – would have praised him afterwards. The sense of longing at what he might have missed out on made his chest feel unsettlingly hollow and achy.

He sighed.

“I don’t know anything about him,” he admitted quietly, to no-one in particular, holding the severed little leaf from earlier in his palm and crumpling it up bitterly. “I don’t know who he was, or what he liked. I never gave him the time of day.”

Kryten peered pityingly up at him over the colourful array of flowers that lay between them, a peculiar look on his face. He considered him for a good, long moment, his brow creased in thought as though he was mulling something over, and then he straightened up and disappeared without a word, walking briskly off to some other part of the garden leaving Rimmer to scowl after him, rolling his eyes and wondering what he’d ever hoped to get out of saying anything about his past to a glorified bog bot.

He was almost considering leaving when Kryten promptly returned, holding something mysterious in his right hand and a freshly filled watering can in his left.

“Hold out your hand, sir,” he said, a self-satisfied little smile on his face.

Rimmer blinked and his eyes narrowed suspiciously, eyeing Kryten’s closed fist. “What? Why?”

Kryten shook his head incredulously and simply extended his hand out, waiting for Rimmer to do the same. “Just do it, sir. There’s a good reason for it.”

Raising a dubious brow, Rimmer nonetheless complied, holding a hand tentatively out, palm up, under Kryten’s waiting fist.

As soon as he was in place, Kryten unfurled his fingers and tilted his wrist, dropping a generous handful of dry earthy-coloured little pellets into Rimmer’s hand and stepping back, beaming broadly at him.

Rimmer gazed in bewilderment at the tiny little things, his thumb rubbing curiously through them, turning them over in his palm a few times before glancing back up to fix Kryten with a bemused, questioning frown.

“What are these?” he asked flatly.

Kryten looked positively scandalised, the smile dying instantly on his face to be replaced with an expression of dismayed disbelief that he was trying his best to conceal.

“Why, they’re seeds of course, sir.”

“Seeds?” Rimmer echoed, his face crumpling slightly. “Kryten, what am I going to do with a handful of 3 million year old seeds?”

Kryten gestured to the rows of plants all around them, as though the answer was plainly clear to see. “Plant them, sir,” he said simply. “Make them grow.”

Rimmer didn’t say anything. He just stared apprehensively down at the little tiny seeds in his hands and felt increasingly as though he had made a grave mistake coming here today. “Why would I want to do any of that, Kryten?” Rimmer scoffed dismissively, thrusting his hand insistently back out towards Kryten again, jaw tight. “I’m not a gardener.”

Kryten’s gaze shifted around sheepishly but he did not make any attempt to take back the seeds. His mouth was drawn together in a tight, perturbed line, brow furrowed slightly in frustration at Rimmer’s refusal to read his intentions.

“I’m well aware of that, sir,” he said steadily, pointedly. “I just think that it’s worth giving a shot anyway.”

Rimmer clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, casting his gaze bitterly, almost enviously, over the colourful array of blooming flowers that surrounded him. “I won’t be any good at this, Kryten,” he said, continuing to hold out his hand to be relieved of the seeds. “It’s a waste of time.”

Kryten shook his head and stood his ground, his expression firm in the way that a parent or teacher’s might be in trying to get an important lesson across.

“Perhaps, sir, but if you don’t try you’ll never know.”

He reached forwards then and gently eased Rimmer’s open fist closed, pushing his hand away in a final refusal to accept the return of the seeds. With his other hand, he held out the watering can to be taken.

“Perhaps it’s not my place to say, sir, but if you really want to get to know your father and understand who he was, might I suggest you try to understand where he was coming from?” He indicated behind Rimmer, towards an area on the far end of the gardens. “There’s an empty plot up the back that I was going to use myself, but you can use it instead if you’d like, sir. Just take those little seeds up there, plant them in the soil and water them. See what grows.”

With that he thrust the watering can firmly into Rimmer’s other hand with a sense of pointed finality, gave him one encouraging pat on the arm and proceeded to promptly brush past him and busy himself once again with his own duties while Rimmer simply gaped, incredulous and furious, after him.

Turning his attention down to the items he had been handed, he debated simply dumping them right where he stood and storming off out of the room. Who was Kryten to boss him around and tell him what to do? He was just a service mechanoid with ideas above his station! He didn’t have to listen to him.

Still, as he looked at the tiny little seeds and turned them over repeatedly in his palm, he couldn’t deny that there was at the very least some very small, curious part of him that did want to give it a try, to reach back through time and space and try to make up for every previously squandered opportunity for connection.

Rimmer was doubtful it would do any actual good but he did as he was told and made his way up to the vacant little plot Kryten had mentioned, a bland little rectangle of earth just waiting expectantly to be put to use.

When he got there he stared down at it warily, apprehensively, as though it were an exam paper and this was a test and any wrong move would result in an immediate failure.

He didn’t know the first thing about gardening. He’d never read so much as a single book on the subject. He’d never cared to learn before, had never had cause to try, but somehow as he held the little seeds in his hand, he felt as though he was eight years old again, watching that strange curly-haired man he didn’t yet know was his father try to reach out to him, to make a connection that Rimmer now sorely, bitterly regretted rejecting.

He tightened his jaw and swallowed thickly past the peculiar lump that had materialised in his throat and reached out slowly, tentatively, to sprinkle the seeds across the waiting blanket of soil. He didn’t know if he was doing it right, if there was more to it than that and he wondered bitterly whether he had already failed at the first hurdle, already doomed these stupid little seeds to fail.

He wished he’d sat around and listened more, had actually let Dennis try to teach him a thing or two, ‘father’s’ orders be damned. He wished he could have given him a chance to connect with him, to have him tell him he’d done well and pat him proudly on the head. He wished that there was any chance at all that he still somehow could but of course there wasn’t. His father was long dead and he was more than 3 million years late for any kind of chance at connection. There was no way he was ever going to claw back what he’d missed out on.

Still, though, he supposed Kryten had been right, in some small little way. There was something to be said for trying to help something vulnerable and fragile thrive on a lonely ship drifting through the middle of deep space, something not unlike cultivating a garden in one of the isolated little pods back on Io. If nothing else, it made the place seem just a little bit less dead, less cold.

Lifting up the watering can Kryten had given him, he held it out over the soil and tilted it carefully, startling slightly when too much initially came out all at once but gradually he stabilised his wrist and slowed the flow down to something more controlled, closer to what he’d seen earlier.

He stood back a little when he was done, surveying his work, trying to suppress the gnawing feeling of inadequacy that tried to tell him he would be no good at this, that he didn’t have the knack for it. That was his other father talking, the one who had ingrained in him such a deep sense of doubt and poor sense of self-worth that it had plagued him all his life, the one who had forced unfair expectations on his shoulders without any chance of ever being able to gain approval, whether he had ever managed to meet them or not.

He might not have been cut out for the role of officer, or for a career in the space corps at all but even in spite of the hand he had been dealt he had ended up on board a space-faring vessel nonetheless. His real father probably would have been proud of him for that and maybe, if he could manage to get these tiny little seeds to sprout and grow, if he could inject a little more life into the cold, unforgiving emptiness of space, far away from Io, from Earth, from anywhere things like these had once been grown, then maybe he would have cause to feel, just a little bit, proud of himself too.

[theironwarsmith]

"The war was going poorly for us. These alien machines; the 'Harrowing' we called them but gods know what they called themselves, were slaughtering our fleets and burning our worlds. We put up a good fight, like we did against the Qin'Xarar Consortium but the Harrowing pushed us back further and further, not even Earth was spared.

I saw those pyres, the ancient cities of my homeworld ignited by those genocidal toasters. Billions dead. They terraformed Earth into one giant machine city. No birds, trees nor, hell, even grass was built over. One giant power generator of a city. Almost airless too.

We, the survivors that is, fled into the depths of space. Some fled to the remaining colonies, others to other alien empires. Organic aliens that is, most of us survivors distrust AI nowadays.

However, it wasn't long after the Fall of Earth that the machines sent a message to whatever passed for leadership. A white peace it said, they were halting their relentless advance. No explanation, just a message. Of course, it was happily accepted and we began to peace our lives back together, the few hundred thousand that we now were.

It seemed odd that they suddenly stopped but it wasn't long until we found out why. Somewhere across the galaxy, an extradimensional rift had formed and creatures, known as the Unbidden, seemingly made of energy had begun to pour through, intent on devouring us. So we did what we always do, readied our weapons, begun building more ships and prepared to put up another good fight. Our last we thought.

It was then we hear that even the machines were suffering loses to these beings. Known fleets of theirs that had utterly destroyed our greatest fleets were being scattered, with a huge battle being fought at a wormhole exit deep in their own territory. We didn't know whether to cheer or to cry. What chance did we have if they were losing? We hoped the bots would be destroyed, or they'd destroy each other.

We, the organics remaining in the galaxy, banded together and held the hyperspace routes, wormholes and even the gateways of damned near half the galaxy against the extra dimensional threat. Held them at bay. It didn't take long for us to work out that kinetic and explosive weapons worked better against them than the energy weapons we has become used to, so we began our slow counter attack.

However, the Harrowing had worked that out long before us. Our scouts, well sentinels really, spotted colossal ships of Harrowing design firing incredibly accurate kinetic rounds in battles far behind the frontline we had established and they were carving a path towards the rift with brutal efficiency. They systemically destroyed the Anchors that these beings used to tether themselves to our plane of existence, even fighting alongside a small fleet of those Qin'Xarar.

The Battle of the Rift was started by us organics, when our fleets managed to calculate and fight a route through the Unbidden's territory to it. We began trying to destroy the creatures and the rift, it was a tremendous struggle. We were losing ships every few minutes, disintegration is a horrible sight. Just when things were at their darkest, when hope was about to fail, the Harrowing fleets arrived.

In a few short years, they had quadrupled the number of ships they had when fighting us. Their Titans were a sight to behold, glittering noticeably in the void. They open fire, a storm of kinetic slugs and missiles shredding the Unbidden and damaging the rift. It broke them. The rift was sealed that day and the Harrowing disappeared without a word.

Of course, we didn't know those robots had taken half the galaxy in the wake of the Unbidden's demise."

Excerpt of interrogation of Terran survivor 1056837. Subject exterminated.

So I've been playing Stellaris, as a genocidal machine race. It is pretty fun.

[mangoofthesea]

Trying to explain my family relationship as someone without parents who isn't brilliantly fond of remaining relatives: no I call my uncle Uncle X to my grandmother but I can't call him uncle to his face because he's not really, like he's my grandmother's son and mom's brother (technically. Like theyre blood related but if my main view of you in the last 10 years was you and my mother screaming at each other or you making her sad because you never made an effort to see her beyond coming to our house and lying on the sofa with your laptop writing that book series you never seemed to try and publish or do actually anything with other than say that was why you were living in your parents house or girlfriends house or how you had a YEAR of living on your own before you gave it up and moved in with your next girlfriend - thats a whole other thing (but seriously, why)...im not gonna have the most warm and fuzzy feelings towards you) but I don't like him or care much about him so I can't call him uncle but gran will be sad if I start calling him just his name when we're all together so I don't say anything to get his attention I just say a question Loudly and hope he responds. And my gran keeps trying to help me make breakfast, but I don't need help putting toast in a toaster or milk on cereal so instead I've been here for the best part of 3 weeks since my last escape and I feel like I want to go climb into the trees and never return but I'm moving out tomorrow and fuck me I want to start walking already fuck fuck fuck I hate that I can't drive

[missameliep]

Incorrect Quotes

Thank you so much for the tag @aallotarenunelmaenunelma and @jerzwriter ☺️

I'm just having a blast with this generator and I can't stop laughing!

Here is the generator where the following quotes come from. Special OTP edition!

Rules: Use this (https://perchance.org/incorrect-quote-generator) generator to generate a quote for your characters and share as many as you like!

Tagging: @princess-geek @lorirwritesfanfic @noesapphic @storyofmychoices and whoever feels like doing this

Incorrect quotes for Elizabeth x Hamid; Arwen x Tyril; Malia x Troy and Zoe x Colt under the cut (beware, there are a lot of them! I couldn't stop! this is simply too fun!):

Elizabeth x Hamid

Hamid: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response.

Elizabeth: Wow. They sound stupid.

Hamid: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense.

Elizabeth: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”

Hamid: I guess you’re right. Hey Elizabeth, I love you.

Elizabeth: See! Just say that!

Hamid: Holy fucking shit.

Elizabeth: If that flies over their head then, sorry Hamid, but they're too dumb for you.

Hamid: Elizabeth.

Hamid : Fruits that do not live up to their names; passionfruit, grapefruit, honeydew and dragonfruit.

Hamid : Fruits that do live up to their names?

Hamid : Orange.

Elizabeth : The next time I open up to someone, it'll be my autopsy.

Hamid: I warned you.

Hamid: I'm perfect.

Elizabeth: Of course I have a lot of pent-up rage, you fool! I've been the same height since I was twelve!

Hamid: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.

Elizabeth: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again.

Hamid: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns??

Elizabeth: Is it working?

Hamid: What are you in the mood for?

Elizabeth: World domination.

Hamid: That's a bit ambitious.

Elizabeth: You are my world.

Hamid: Aww...

Elizabeth:

Hamid:

Elizabeth:

Hamid: OH.

Elizabeth: Is something burning?

Hamid, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you.

Elizabeth: Hamid, the toaster is literally on fire.

Hamid: So... what would you do if you were in bed with me?

Elizabeth: Depends. Is your bed comfortable?

Hamid: Yes.

Elizabeth: I'd sleep.

2. Arwen x Tyril

Arwen: Assert your dominance over your friends by kicking them in the face, and then giving them a little smooch on the forehead!

Tyril: Hey, quick question. How petty am I allowed to be?

Arwen: I was put on this earth to do one thing.

Arwen: Luckily I forgot what it was so I can do whatever I want.

Tyril: Dracula had it right, sleep all day, live alone in a castle, and explode into bats to get out of all social situations.

Arwen: *coughs blood*

Tyril: Don't die, Arwen!

Arwen: Don't tell me what to do!

Tyril: Caffeine no longer keeps me awake while I work, so instead I have Arwen periodically send me texts saying ‘we need to talk.’

Tyril: It gives me the right amount of adrenaline and fear I need to keep going.

Tyril: Where are your parents?

Arwen: What are parents?

Tyril: That’s just about the saddest thing I've ever heard.

Tyril: This is a very powerful artifact. You’d be messing with some forces we don’t fully understand.

Arwen: That sounds like a dare to me.

Tyril: Oh my god.

Arwen: Can you cut me some slack, Tyril? I’m sort of in love.

Tyril: I’m sorry, but that’s really not my problem.

Arwen: I’m in love with you.

Tyril: *blushes* Oh. That brings me in the loop a little.

Tyril: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

Arwen: I wrote you a poem.

Tyril, already crying: You did?

Arwen: Tyril, you love me, right?

Tyril: Normally I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere I won’t like.

3. Malia x Troy Hassan

Troy: I’m in love with you.

Malia: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork.

Troy: I know.

Malia: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Troy : And I’d love to be sorry for that, but we all know I’ve done much, much worse.

Malia: *angrily presses Troy against a wall* WHERE'S THE MONEY?!

Troy: ...

Troy: Are we about to kiss-

Troy : We got a free day now. What do you wanna do? Eat? Sleep? Nap? Snack?

Malia: When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what the hell am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Malia lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the person who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!

Troy : Malia, remember when you said you weren’t going to interfere with my love life?

Malia: No, that doesn’t sound like me at all.

Malia: You’re an idiot.

Troy : That’s the charm.

Troy : Truth or dare?

Malia: Truth.

Troy : How many hours have you slept this week?

Malia:

Malia: Dare.

Troy : Go to sleep.

Malia: I don't like this game.

Troy: I like your new pants!

Malia: Thanks, they were 50Troy off!

Troy: I’d like them better if they were 100Troy off. *winks*

Malia: The store can’t just give away clothes for free.

Troy: Thats’s… not what I meant.

Malia: That’s a terrible way to run a business, Troy.

Malia: I WOULD DESTROY THE WORLD FOR YOU!

Troy : Okay, can you do the dishes?

Malia: No!

Troy : Are you an F5 key? Because that ass is refreashing.

Malia: Are you a software update? because not right now.

Troy : *raises eyebrows*

Malia: Put those back down!

Malia: You call yourself my soulmate, but where were you when my meme only had four likes?

Troy : Making four accounts.

Malia, tearing up: Really...?

4. Zoe x Colt Kaneko

Zoe: Did you buy eggs like I asked?

Colt: Even better!

Zoe: What the fuck did you-

Colt: *holding up a chicken* Her name is Fluffy.

Zoe: Hey Colt, do you have any hobbies?

Colt: Swimming...

Zoe: Really? That’s cool. I never expected you to-

Colt: In a pool of self hatred and regret.

Zoe: Isn’t a bit dangerous?

Colt: Zoe, please. We’ve in a lot of unexpected predicaments before and we always escape unhurt.

Zoe: ...

Colt: Okay, we sometimes escape unhurt.

Zoe: ...

Colt: Alright, we escaped unhurt once... Then we hurt ourselves in the way home.

Zoe: Think you can answer some questions without the usual level of sarcasm?

Colt: If you can ask the questions without the usual level of stupid.

Zoe: I still have no idea how I’m attracted to you...

Colt: Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me, and no take backs, honey.

Zoe: You can’t have a gun on stage!

Colt: WRONG AGAIN! I can have a gun, and I must have a gun, that’s the rule of Chekhov’s Gun: have a gun. And now that it’s been seen, I will have to shoot someone before the end of the play.

Zoe: I'm trying to juggle family life and work life but I can't seem to find a balance. What do you suggest I do to keep everyone happy?

Colt, deadpan: Quit your job, kill your family.

Zoe: You have to apologize to them Colt.

Colt: Fine! But I must warn you that this might make me a better, nicer person and that is NOT the person you fell in love with!

Zoe: When you said 'Magic in Bed', I wasn't expecting this...

Colt: *pulls out card from deck* Now, was this your card?

Zoe: Holy moly-

Colt: Talk dirty to me~

Zoe: Inflation is a serious problem and lumber prices are at a high.

Colt: Wha-

Zoe: The economy is in shambles.

Colt: Go fuck yourself.

Zoe, smugly: Sure, but only if you watch

[kaduz4o]

10 September 2022, Saturday

Alone at Home

I’m in my house now. Everybody goes to a Site. Well, it's Godmother's birthday. I lied. It's Godmother's graduation, actually. I'm in the kitchen, and it's dark now. I'm listening to really good R&B music. I've just had a fruit salad yogurt and four loaves of bread, which I baked in the toaster. The night is silent and the moon is full in the sky. I downloaded an app about the solar system, taking advantage of the subject. It is incredible to think about the immensity of the universe, and to know that we will never be able to explore everything or can we? I am very disappointed as my Office suite will expire in five days. In other words, I only have five more days to write and then I'll have to do "a Brazilian way" . I hope there's really a way to do it. I spent so much time without following the technological evolution, that I am still surprised, now, when I go back to using Microsoft devices that programs that were said to be basic in the computer's operating system are now paid, with licenses with minimum values (and this is a criticism) of one year.

I really want to fuck tonight. I'm horny, and it's been a few days. To be honest, it's been a while since I've had a really satisfying sexual relationship. I'm in a gigantic internal drama, and I'll explain.

It sounds like fiction, but believe me, it's all real and my sanity is intact, as James Sam’s would say.

in 2020 I entered a new level of consciousness, because of everything I had been living since then, and with the help of Cannabis, and all the philosophies and cultures that I had been studying for almost a decade, (speaking of which, it is wonder that I was still surprised that this happened - that I entered a new level of consciousness, I mean), the fact is that I entered that level, and that changed everything. The word transcendences better defines what happened to me.

I don't want to keep talking about it, because I'm sick of it, and people, being mediocre, don't understand. And for me to explain to a layman (someone who has no oriental philosophical basis) it is very difficult. in short, I have transcended my sexual level, this is a very important point in the physical world. And I, in my naivety, didn't realize it, sentient beings incarnate are all the time after food and sex. it's insane to sum up all our earthly life in this, but we all have a part that only thinks about that. pleasure.

Now that my eyes and senses are on women, it's all very funny and different. Amazing, how our mind absorbs energy, how other people's energy gets stuck (literally on us), even if we don't have physical contact with certain people. Just being close, the energy fields meeting by the proximity of the environment, the energy exchange so powerful of the look. All this alters our energy. I'm telling you this so I can comment that: I don't want to dirty my energy.

I will explain why.

There is something that I have affectionately called pure energy and dirty energy. when a man lies with another man he saps his energy. And that will be exposed for all to see. consciously or unconsciously, as we can "feel" each other's entire mental and inner field. When a male body has an abundance of male energy (and people expect a man to behave like a man and a woman to behave like a woman), he becomes more powerful within the Cosmos. The same goes for female bodies.

Now for the Drama part: I want to get laid, and there's an easy way, given my current financial situation. But that will sap my energy. And that's the last thing I want, because it takes work to clean, and clean energy is cultivated. so that from the moment I soil it, it is equivalent to killing my plant, pulling it out of firm soil, root and all, and having to cultivate it again, planting the seed again. That's what I feel. It was a good analogy. laughs. Can you understand now what I'm going through? To make matters worse, I am not working at the moment, and there is an insecurity in my head that whispers that it will be very difficult to find a suitable job for my interior level here in Minas Gerais. I sincerely hope that God will help. Another interesting thing is that if we keep ourselves straight in the sexual realm, we gain God's approval. And I don't want to miss it for the world. It is very good to be accepted by other incarnate spirits without resistance. The problem is that I've been hurt so much that I've created a defense mechanism to protect myself. I believe that this will harm me in creating new friendships in this initial period. Since I'm not used to Earth bodies being friendly to me. I'm used to rejection. with discrimination by others. with the looks and laughs of debauchery, coming free no matter how presentable, friendly, even honest I appear.

[french-fryyyy]

Lemme just *info dumps to you about my friends*

I love all my friends so much, really

I got like 5 people who I really close consider friends and for good reason.

Like we got Wolfy (not the name I call her actually for privacy reasons), who is almost literally my mom. She may not live anywhere close but she gives the best hugs ever in my mind. She cares, she listens, she helps. And she's so responsible, I would not be alive (/j) today if it wasn't for her telling me not to do dumb shit. If something serious is happening she's one of the first people I feel I can go to about it. And I really genuinely appreciate that she trusts me like I trust her. She understands that I really suck at maintaining a friendship with someone who doesn't give me as much as I give them. Or really it's more like she's doing her best to comply with the fact that I feel entirely useless when i can't help my friends with anything or when they don't talk to me almost at all. Like if I think about it she really is such an awesome person at manipulating me in a good way and easing me into the idea of having a friend who isn't as constant in communication and who I can rely on without feeling guilty and like I have to "make it up to them" by insisting that I be there for them all the time when something happens. I love Wolfy so much guys she doesn't even know. Well she does know because I say it to her a lot but you get the point

I also have Rusy Cage (NOT his name y'all it's a joke it was either this or "the K man" and Rusty Cage sounds so much funnier). We are silly billys together!!! I'm surprisingly a lot more responsible than he is, which leads to a lot of hilarious discussions. We have a lot of other conversations too about things and we help each other out. I love being able to know him and I'm really happy that he feels like he has someone who's there for him when he may not want to talk to someone else. I've known him for a few years now and I have not left since, and I really hope he knows how proud of him I am and how much I care. Nothing brings more joy to me than seeing him having fun and enjoying being here and alive. I'm proud of how much he's grown as a person, setting boundaries and starting to become more confident and determined with themselves. He still struggles sometimes, yes, but progress comes before the results. I'm proud of him for even still being here, and even more so with his growth and the start of his journey. He's young and has so much ahead of him, but he's strong enough and I know he will make it through it all. I can't wait until the day I can hug him again at top golf

And then we also got ✨Constellation✨ (also not their name, I have a bit of a theme going on here I gotta keep it up). Silly goober. I think one of my favorite hobbies is to listen to them talk about their interests and then finding things related to said interests and giving it to them. I gave them a mushroom today! They made my experience in band this past year SIGNIFICANTLY better compared to previous years. I adore their lightheartedness and the silly :3. Being around her made me a lot more open with my autism and more accepting of myself with that. Which is why band was so much better this year, because being around them I wasn't masking nearly as much, I got to have a break from that and was able to be loud and annoying and have genuine fun in band for the first time in a while. The vibes were up so much and I had an actual good friend with me. I'm so insanely upset that they're graduating now. Like I'm proud of them for making it this far but why you gotta leave me like that dude :((. I'm still super happy to know them. Brings genuine joy and good vibes to my life, I really do love them. We also share a brain at this point too btw (it's the autism(/j))

I also have Toaster (still not actually his name what do you expect?). I've been through so much of my life with him I don't think we'll actually ever leave each other. I've known him since all the way back in elementary school when I walked up to him after school that one day. And so much has happened since. I mean as expected seeing as how we've known each other for 7-8 years now. I want him to know how proud and happy I am for him. He's had so much happen in his life, and he's still so resilient. I know middle school was hard for him, and highschool too. But he's still here. He made it through, and he's still going and THRIVING. He's been cleaning his room lately, going through everything and cleaning it all. And every time he tells me about how it's going it's like "hell yeah!!" even as things are still happening around him, he's still just Toaster. A little angry guy who's amazing at standing up for himself. I know being an angry person is typically portrayed as a negative trait, but he's one of the best people I've ever met and his aggressiveness makes him even better. I'm really lucky to have someone like him in my life. He puts up with all my dumb shit, even if it's something he would've completely ditched someone else for. Which makes me feel bad sometimes, but then I think about it and I just be better. I make myself into someone who does deserve a friend like him. He's also graduating in a few days, and I honestly can't wait to see the future he has ahead of him and be there with him in that future. I really do love him too

I also have Freshman™ (:3). One of my bestest bestest friends ever. They ARE the vibe. One of the sweetest and gooberiest people to ever exist. I'm so grateful that they put up with me as much as they do. Their house really feels more like home to me than my own house too lol. I'm unbelievably lucky that their parents also put up with me when I'm over there as well. Being around them at all just makes me feel better, more relaxed and content than with other people. The silly antics are highlights of my day every day, I wish I could make them laugh as much as they make me laugh. They're really someone I feel comfortable around and someone who makes me a better person. They're so sweet and full of life and joy that I genuinely feel like I've found the best person I could ever know. They're so silly too I love them so much. They make me who I am. I know I don't really outwardly show a lot of these things, but to me what counts is that I feel it. Although I am trying to show it more. I want them to know I appreciate them. It amazes me honestly that they do actually put up with me, yet alone actually want me around them. I do love them, and I'm glad to have them in my life

Every single one of them is so important to me, and I'm so lucky and happy to even know all of them. They really are the gang to me and I'd probably die for them if I could

I do have more friends I swear, but these are just the people I think of as very close friends

Idk why I'm typing this all out about them but I just feel the need to share to the world (Tumblr) that I appreciate these guys and everything they do