#Kids today with their sleeping fad

[questionableadvice]

~ San Jose News, June 18, 1932

[foryoufics]

Fake Flowers ch5

Authors Note: Nothing this time just thanks for the love 🩷

Taglist: @livingformintyoongi

Warnings: angst, drama, cussing, I'm throwing a bit of another trope into this chapter so childhood friends to strangers to dating! trope, keeping secrets bad YN (just kidding lol), let's pretend Yoongi is a little younger than he actually is bc ya girl started writing and got a good ways in before realizing his real age didn't match with the story so just say he's only a year or two older than Jungkook instead of 4 👍🏻

"YN~, jagi, the food is almost ready," Yoongi calls out as he's cooking and you're tucking in LT, little Taeyhung. You loved babysitting him because in the short time since you met him that little boy had stolen your heart so you babysat anytime Namjoon and his mother needed it and maybe you stole him quite a bit but they completely trusted you and didn't mind at all.

"I'll be there in a minute, shh~, he's almost asleep," you smile and giggle softly, kissing the babies face as his eyes drift closed. You and Yoongi had spent the past hour with you holding him and singing while Yoongi played soft tunes on the guitar.

"Aish, he's not asleep yet," Yoongi whines but you know he's laughing to himself

"Shh~, just about aan-okay, he's sleeping," you skip over to him, "it smells good," you mumble against his back and he moves it off of the stove and turns the stove off. Then moves over to the side so when he turns to face you, neither of you will be against the hot stove. "Jagi....," he lifts your chin with his finger to look at him, "Ah~, so cute~," he throws his head back as if he's annoyed then places a soft peck to your lips, leaving you just a gooey mess smiling up at him and hugging his waist. "How long do we have?"

"All night, he's not coming today"

"That's a relief," he runs his fingers through his hair, "but I think we should tell him that we knew each other and that we've been seeing each other for a month now"

"I want to, but how?"

He shrugs as he makes your plate of food, "just tell him the truth. That on your birthday we thought we didn't know each other but we actually did. We went to grade school together"

"Yeah, I know that that is simple enough and he would be happy for us but what if he asks questions like-"

"Why we hid it from him?"

"Well yeah, y'know Ggukie is very persistent, we would have to tell him about our first relationship"

He laughs, it's deep in his chest, but he tries to keep quiet for TL to sleep. "You mean when you were like 10? Jagi, you do everything with your whole soul don't you?" He gives you your plate and kisses your forehead

"Oh please, it basically started when we're like five but you brought me the bouquet, the big card that said 'Im a sucker for your pucker', the heart chocolates-you had that rat tail mullet," you laugh and try to keep quiet

"We aren't talking about the rat tail." He points matter of factly and shakes his gorgeous and full head of hair, "it never happened." He grips your hip and brings yours against his, pointing.

"Alright, alright, it was the early 2000s, you weren't alone in that horrible haircut fad. Besides, it's not like you don't have dirt on me too?"

"The tooth," he covers his mouth because he just knew he would wake the baby. "Seriously though, do you still have the picture your dad wanted to take?" You shake your head and frown, "I memorized it....and that itchy red dress, what even was that fabric?" "That was the same dress you wore to your first dance," he smiles. "You remember that?" He nods, "Hard to forget how you had no front top teeth," he gives you a sassy face to match his tone. You open your mouth to speak in the defensive but he opens his and mocks you making the same sounds of not being able to speak. "That's worse than the actual tooth, okay, not really, the tooth was bad"

"Eat while it's hot," he kisses your head again and uses one arm to eat and the other to hold your waist

"When are we telling him though?"

".....Yoong-I guess we can tell him soon...."

"Soon....?"

"Alright, I will tell him as soon as I have the chance. We haven't seen each other much lately, he wanted me to go with him the other day and look at rings"

"Seriously?"

"Mhm," you nod, "he's ready to pop the question. I'm so happy for him"

"How is that going to work with this arrangement you two have?" He leans on the counter and crosses his arms over his chest when he finishes eating until he hears LT, "I got him," he goes over to grab the baby, "Hey~......he likes my smell?"

"That's probably it, it soothes me too," you nod and stroke LT's baby hairs, "and I don't know, if she wants to do things quickly I guess we can end the contract before the year is up, if she's fine with waiting I guess we wait," she shrugs, "it's hers and Ggukie's decision"

He nods and gently bounces LT how he likes, holding his head and looks at you

"What?"

He shakes his head

"Yoongi, what?" You laugh, "you're staring at me"

"You're just so beautiful," he smiles, "YN...."

"Hm?"

"N-Nothin'," he shakes his head

"No really, what is it?"

"Wrong time..."

"Alright?" You have a thought hit you and you burst into laughter

"What?" He chuckles

"I think I'm going for some type of record"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, it's funny to look back on but saying the words it sounds really depressing"

"We talked about this, don't hold it in...."

"Alright, just, well, there was our first relationship-"

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes smiling and you continue, "but you moved away, then in highschool I had," you use your fingers to count and try to remember them because you put great effort into forgetting all the past endeavors. "Six? Six very short relationships all of which cheated on me except the one guy who left me because I wouldn't sleep with him, then the girlfriend that left me for another girl, then a slightly longer guy slightly longer and he cheated, and then I was with someone for a decade and engaged but never married and then I was fake married to someone for not even a year and might be getting divorced," you laugh again, "just all that and my body count is still one," you're laughing so hard while sitting on the counter you don't register you're slipping.

He catches you with one arm while holding his nephew in the other, "I can fix that~"

"The body count thing?" You tilt your head and he just as he is about to kiss you his phone rings

"Yeah. Yeah, just got him to sleep. Yeah, yeah sure thing. Nope, not interrupting anything at all," he says dryly, "mhm....yeah but hey, mind getting together soon, I need a favor-I uh, I'll tell you when I get there"

"I'm guessing that was Joon?" He nods, "I want to tell everyone, yeah?" He grips your thigh, resting his forehead on yours and giving you a kiss leaving you weak so you can only nod in agreement

"Bye baby," you kiss LT's head and help Yoongi load him into the car with his things. After being sure he's secure he turns to you and pins you between him and the door, "I want to kiss you so bad right now"

"We cant-"

"You said Jungguk wouldn't be here tonight and no one can see you, I'm shielding you. Please?"

You think for a second before nodding and allowing the moment to happen

"She said yes!!!" A familiar voice approaches and Yoongi moves reluctantly

"Congratulations," you both hug Jungguk

"I have to go....," Yoongi tells you, and texts you that he loves you from the car before leaving

"Congratulations!!" You reach up and hug Jungkook and he spins you before sitting you down so he can dance

"Gguk, Ggukie, weren't you with her," you laugh enjoying all that is tonight

"Yeah, I was but her mom popped over for a surprise visit so I was giving them some time. So, what were you up to?" He asks as casually as always, "See Yoo was here with LT?"

"Yeah, yeah we babysat him today and decided to have dinner because I wasn't expecting you"

"You two have been spending a lot of time together~"

"Alright, I think we need to talk ...."

"You're dating Yoongi?!" He whisper yells, face lighting up

"Yes, but there's more.....we already knew each other," you bring him inside by the hand to tell him everything

----Meanwhile at Namjoon's------

"One son," Yoongi returns LT like he's a food delivery

"Under 30 minutes, tip the man," he jokes to his wife, burying his nose in LT's face

"This one is on the house," Yoongi jokes, "but uh....that favor"

"Oh yeah, what's up?"

"I need you to go somewhere with me"

"Uh, where and when?" His brother asks

"A jeweler, as soon as you have the chance."

[stevenbasic]

GITJ Post 299: A Monday After, p1

What the…where am I? I thought, slowly sitting up on my kitchen table and gazing up at the ceiling, And what the hell is that?

I’d fallen asleep, apparently, on the kitchen table. Well, passed out is more like it. What time was it? It was morning? I had no idea. All I knew was that I was naked underneath the thin blanket Melissa had obviously put over me, my cock hurt and the room smelled like paint. 

And now there was some of it on the ceiling.

What did she do? I marveled, lamenting at the fact that now I’d somehow have to paint my ceiling too but also, I must admit, smiling like a love-struck kid at the gesture. She’d painted a huge ‘I love you!!!’ above where I’d slept, meaning for me to see it first thing when I woke. I found myself grinning, despite myself.  No one had ever done anything nearly as romantic as this for me before and it made me a little giddy. She’s a nut. No, actually, she may be crazy. Like, really. She could have - as unconscious as I was - carried me into bed. But no she left me sleeping on my kitchen table and somehow got that painted right above me, in ‘Twilight Blush’. Plus there was the whole wanting to be bigger and able to toss me around like a rag doll thing too which should have made me nervous since the woman was apparently some sort of superwoman. But…jeez…this is too cute. 

She said she loved me. 

I mean…yesterday was pathological, I thought, We each have something wrong with us, and together it’s…yikes. That was crazy. I mean, I’ve known I’m a bit strange in my tastes, kinks, fixations. I’ve known that for decades. Plus, I was physically changing, losing weight, and wasn’t nearly as concerned as I should have been. But she, Melissa too? She had said she was in some sort of ‘growth spurt’, and I knew girls everywhere were into this ‘vulni-chic’ thing - being bigger than your partner was the trend - but I always figured it was some sort of fad. The stuff Melissa was saying yesterday, though, and the things she got me to admit? This is going to be deeper and weirder than I may be able to handle. What would it mean for us, for me, I wondered, if I let this continue?

Wow what time is it?

But she said she loved me!

Okay okay okay. Yes I had to consider the possibility that she might have been a little mentally imbalanced, or a lot. And she’d been evasive, since we met, about her past. I kinda sorta thought there was some trauma there and I was going to hope that, as we got more comfortable around one another, she’d open up and share. I knew for myself there were things about my own past, my family, my childhood that I hadn’t shared yet, either. We were maybe not at that point in our relationship, where we could be totally honest with one another, but I could see that changing, already. But - is it somewhere I feel comfortable going? I fretted, Is a deeper connection something I want to pursue with a girl like Melissa. I mean…we’re so different. She’s - I forget - ten, fifteen years my junior? Little-to-no education. Horrible speller. But, does that matter, if we’re…in love?

But - was I in love with her, the way she said she was in love with me? I, for sure, had strong feelings - but were they love? I was…obsessed, yes. Fixated, for sure. Furtively worshipful? Maybe. But she honestly made me feel…like no one else ever had before. Yes she was built like a wet dream but also she was so warm and earnest with me, accepting of (and maybe, I admit, even encouraging of) my weaknesses. Sheryl was never like that; no one’s ever been like that, and it felt, now…nice. Is this love? Maybe? I wondered, Or maybe the early beginnings of it? 

Yikes it’s a Monday. I have early patients today. I hope it’s not eight o’clock yet.

I looked at myself, now that I’d sat up on the kitchen table, feet dangling off the end, in the mirror on the back of the door. The same mirror in front of which Melissa and I had posed yesterday, comparing our insanely disparate sizes. I immediately felt a pang that I recognized…I felt the aching absence of her. But also, looking at my reflection, my sunken chest, my pipe-cleaner arms, I felt the shock of how small I appeared, I felt a rush of shame. This is what she likes? I puzzled, I’m so…puny. Puny everywhere except…

I pulled the thin blanket, which had been laying across my lap, away from myself. 

I’m not, I said to myself, as I looked at the cock hanging between my legs, shadowed aside my thigh, I’m not all little. In my own way, in fact, I’m big. I watched as if, with the sudden attention, blood had started to engorge my manhood, causing it to stir. I may be small now, a short man. I may barely stand as tall as her chest, I was telling myself as my cock began to rise off the table, but at least I have this. It’s big, and she likes it. 

I marveled at it, at myself, as the thing slowly rose up, like a schooner’s mast, past my belly. Rather than the concern or chagrin I usually felt in facing it, beefy and hearty in contrast to my skinny frame, I instead felt a surge of pride. I watched it, thickening still, realizing that blood was draining from the rest of me to feed its growth. Melissa likes it big, I reminded myself, hardness surging as I recalled the husky timbre that came to her voice when she addressed it, or the flash in her eyes when she watched it swell for her. I was, here, restoring some of my fleeting male ego, gaining pride from my cock. She likes my erection, she likes my come. She licked it off me, she slurped it from her hand, I advanced, and I can make so much for her. 

I should really check my phone, the time…

With one hand I reached for it, left for me on the table, and with the other I grabbed my shaft. 

There’s some pictures of her on here…

It was then that I saw the text from Melissa:  “Good morning hun 😊 Marisela and Randi and me won’t be in the office til later. There helping me at a photo shoot for new offises.” 

“Huh, okay,” I said, nodding to myself and acknowledging that little sense of disappointment: I was going to miss her. But if I was going to have to struggle to put her out of my mind for a few hours, looking at a few photos of her here might help….

But anyway, I should first check the time…

…ten-thirty!?! Holy crap!

===========================================

Patreon, mine.

[bursting-at-the-seems]

TW: FatShaming, disordered eating thoughts mention

I can deal with people brining it up to my face though id prefer it if they didn’t. Or waited till I brought it up. However discussing it behind my back… hurtful.

If I’m honest, this wasn’t the first time. My weight has been a topic among family members since I can remember, and the whispering conversations and gossip always find their way back to me. It's hurtful. It's been detrimental.

These comments led me to unhealthy behaviors: starving myself, binge eating, taking diet and water pills, over-exerting, and purging. The comments continued regardless of my weight—thin, fat, lost, or gained—it was never right. Even at my healthiest, I heard, “That will look better on you with another 10 lbs down.”

I've heard people equate food with morality—some food is good, some is bad, and you are good or bad for eating it. I’ve been offered lap band and gastric surgery by non-medical professionals—my family—over lunch.

I’ve watched my mom starve herself and purge. I’ve seen my family yo-yo on weight, trying every fad diet out there. They blame my chronic illnesses on my weight, despite my explanations that they are genetic conditions, a symptom and not the cause.

For years, I thought something was wrong with me or that I was a failure, but it was my body fighting me tooth and nail. The psychological trauma I endured made eating disorders a sense of control in my life, and honestly, I gave up for a while. Nothing I did mattered to my body or my family.

Years of therapy helped me come to terms with my trauma, improve my self-image, and realize that fat doesn’t mean not beautiful. I learned that my family’s expectations were not aligned with my doctors, personal trainer, or my body’s needs.

Despite all that work, finding out that people were discussing my weight behind my back still cut deep. I sent a kind yet direct text to my family, letting them know I was aware and that it needed to stop. I explained my health, medications, how they impact my weight, and what I am doing about it.

Most didn’t respond, as expected because I told them they were not obligated to, but one did. The response was defensive: it’s out of concern and love, it's meant to be helpful, I shouldn’t stir the pot, I can’t be happy unless I lose weight, I won’t have a husband or kids unless I lose weight, and my genetic conditions might improve if I lost weight.

I stood my ground. I spoke calmly. Then I I yelled, I cried. I explained how hard it is to fight my own thoughts, my own body, the doctors who refuse to take me seriously, and my family.

I reminded myself I’m fortunate to have a team of doctors who assure me that my genetic conditions are not caused by my weight and that my weight is not our primary concern. It's sad that I'm fortunate to have only had a handful of doctors ignore the red flags in my chart because they said weight was my only issue. For some people, that's all they face.

The rest of the day, I felt awful. I felt like the monster they must all see. I’m 5'10" and wear on average a size 20. I know I’m over weight. I’d love to get to a size 16 or 14… I’d love to lose 50-100 lbs. I’d love to have a body that’s healthy and sustainable. I’ve lost weight, gained muscle mass, lost total body fat mass, and still, I feel like the monster on the hill. I am making progress to my goals…

I had to force myself to eat today because after all that, I desperately wanted to starve myself. I know it’s not worth it, it’s not healthy, and I won’t do it, but the desire to punish myself and not eat was strong. I paid attention to how much I ate versus my roommate and her sister and felt guilty for finishing my dinner.

I’ll go to sleep now and hope tomorrow is a better day. All I can say is I’m grateful for my years of therapy. Without them, this would be much darker with a longer impact.

[cwlsmelbourne]

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[wernher-von-brawny]

I know I come off like I think I'm above it all when I get on my high horse about this, but IF I COULD SEE IN 1988 THAT THIS CURRENT SITCH WAS THE OBVIOUS, INEVITABLE, AND DESIRED OUTCOME OF REAGAN'S "RESTORE THE ARISTOCRACY" POLICIES, then a whole fat, thick, gigantic, hungolomghnonoloughongous-size slab of the folks who are today sitting in boardrooms, political office, and other seats of power -- who were and are smarter than me, better educated than me, and have had greater access to information and statistics than me all through these despicable last few decades -- must have seen it as well.

And they all went along with it. Not just the "bad actors"; all of them.

Shit, folks like Uncle Joe, Nancy, and Slick Willy & Hilly dropped a fucking brick on the gas pedal to make sure we got to this very destination in record time.

The nightmare isn't that "the evil MAGA fascists are making America a hellscape".

The sleep paralysis waking nightmare is all those "reasonable" folks who, in the 60s and 70s were quoted by Nina SImone as saying "go slow" about Civil Rights, and who have enabled, rationalized, and normalized every step we've taken down the ladder into this sewer.

They "other" all responsibility for this, content to let neoliberals turn the DNC into a conservative ratchet against reform, while tutting over brunch about the unseemly behavior of their fellow travelers who wear those tacky red hats.

The Christofascists and racists and conservatives have always been here, from day one. And as history shows, they've been running the show most of this time.

But for a few years in the mid-late 20th century, when it was briefly "fashionable" and "cool" and "chic" among the liberal elite, we had popular political support for progressive legislation.

And the vast "radical middle", whose thirst for that elusive feeling of self-worth can only ever be quenched by the media pissing "the correct lifestyle choices" down their throats, abided it.

Of course, it was just a fad; nostalgia for a dim memory of the eras when their great-grandparents got kids out of coal mines, and their grandparents cheered as FDR enacted Social Security. And it was displaced by someone who turned that nostalgia against us.

Reagan came along and said, "Fuck that shit; this world is the property of capitalists. We'll eat your soul and we'll steal your kids, and if you don't like it, you can suck my dick."

And half the Boomers -- the conservatives and the "I used to be into enlightenment; now I'm into money" half -- said, "Fuck, yeah!".

Then the Boomer Clinton came along and sold the rest of the Boomers -- and all other smug, ignorant Liberals (like my dumbfuck younger self) -- on "Reaganomics (Saxophone Version)", and we all said, "Fuck, yeah!"

We sold out the country with "if neither side is happy, it's probably a good compromise", while ignoring that Nazis will never be happy with less than 100%, so any compromise is a loss for us.

From "You're either with us or against us" to "We're looking forward and not back", it wasn't apoplectic, unreasoning "deplorables" who made this happen.

It was "reasonable moderates" who surrendered inches, then feet, then yards, then miles and acres in the name of "reaching across the aisle" in order to navigate the conveniently recurring "complex and difficult situations" that justified said capitulations.

For decades we called the French "surrender monkeys". Turns out that smug Liberals were the real surrender monkeys all along.

"Kids, thank the smug Liberals for trading away hard fought environmental regulation and economic protection for a handful of performative gestures."

"Thanks, smug Liberals."

"Good, now get back to work. This coal ain't gonna dig itself."

Christofascism is here. White conservatives see it as the only path forward.

[lunannex]

Allison Hargreeves Fic Rec List

I love Allison dearly so I figured I'd share some of my favorite Allison-centric fics to spread a little more love for her!

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

Seven Pounds Eight Ounces Healthy Beautiful Perfect by sunriseseance

Allison wanders more, not ready for the sleep to end, and takes in the breadth of nothing in which she’s draped her house. The fad of void that reflects her heart completely, or else does not at all, and to such a frightening degree she can hardly think it. What if Claire hates it here? What if Claire hates it everywhere? What if Claire has powers and Allison was right, always right to not want kids? What if the nightmares are premonitions and Reginald comes into the dark empty house and rends the child from her breast and talks about finally having a useful seventh and there’s still milk on Claire’s little lip and Allison can’t do anything can’t even breathe and the worst part is that maybe Claire is better off because at least Reginald can do something other than ache.

-------

An exploration of Allison, trauma, and motherhood.

Happy In That Moment by sunriseseance

She did cry a little bit when she looked out at her family’s section and saw four empty seats instead of the planned three. She did add Ben’s rose, and then Five’s rose, to her bouquet to be pressed later. It was tradition, she heard, to place roses on the seats of deceased family. Save a place for them. She didn’t bother to look into what happened after. Should she have thrown the flowers away? Vanya’s chair sat empty, asking her if she had ever made a good choice in her life. She couldn’t answer.

Karma, Leave These Kids Alone by sunriseseance

Klaus is right, because he usually is. Their childhood was worth fearing. But it wasn’t all bad, she thinks, and some guilt pangs her. I wouldn’t wish this on us, but I’m glad I got him out of it. I’m glad Claire is safe.

She holds out her hand for him, and he takes it.

---

A meditation on Allison and her traumas, guilts, fears, and loves. Centered around her and Klaus, their love for one another, and how that changes her love and fear for Claire.

Smoke and Mirrors by stilitana

She’d find the right string of words someday, the magic words that would conjure the long-dead childhood pet rabbit back out of the hat, whole and healthy, and everyone would scream with joy when they saw that everything was saved, because she had seen that it was good and should be so.

-

A vignette-style exploration of some scenes from Allison's life, pre-season one.

ode to queen mab by GiuGiu

Raymond stares at her in horror as she tells the man “More, more, more, more, more.”

But she wants to burn this man. This awful bigoted monster. He burned her first, it’s only fair.

When Ray pulls her away she realizes she did it again.

She lost control.

A deeper look into Allison's power with some added elements.

Helpline by Gin_Juice

“What?” Diego’s flat voice greeted her.

“Oh, is that how we’re answering the phone now? Good morning to you, too.”

He grunted. “I’m heading out to work and I’m writing a note that you called as we speak. So unless you have something important to tell me, I’m hanging up.”

Wow, he was a regular ray of sunshine today, wasn’t he? Allison sat down sideways in one of the high stools at the kitchen island.

“Everything okay? Because I expect Five to threaten to hang up on me in the first ten seconds of a call, but you usually make it little further than this.”

Her own problems could wait a few minutes—God knew they weren’t going anywhere.

___________________________

It's hard, sometimes, being out in Los Angeles by herself, but Allison's siblings and all of their issues are only a phone call away.

Echoes by chiiyo86

On the night of November 15, 1963, Allison finds Five passed out in the back alley where she landed two years ago. Together they set out to try and find their siblings, but the task turns out to be more complicated than they imagined...

Terrible Waffles by neuronary

On their wedding night, Ray wraps his arms around her, presses his lips to her forehead, and turns off the lights with a yawn. Allison’s stomach twists, first in confusion, then further anxiety. She doesn’t know what’s going on and she doesn’t know who to ask and it scares her.

They don’t talk about it. Until they do.

---

Allison Hargreeves is asexual. She doesn't know there's a word for it, but that doesn't matter so much with Ray.

Fool's Gold by kneworder

What do you do when your sister destroys your world?

You rebuild. You get out the scotch tape and the lies and the dazzling smiles and you make yourself a new castle even bigger than before.

--

Allison, and the fallout of the bomb that was Vanya's book.

[oh-boy-me]

Obey Me Devilgram Posts and Comments: In Style/You’ve Got to Be Kidding!

Wow this is like.  An ongoing event.  This event is still happening.  Damn.

This is the first time in a while that we’ve seen characters comment on their own posts, which is interesting!  Also it’s the first time in a while that Levi’s been an inconvenience :’) but we manage here at oh boy me dot tumblr dot com.

I should probably read this event soon, shouldn’t I.

日本語は私の第三言語ので、時々間違えます。日本語話者、間違いを見たら教えてください。 (Japanese is my third language, so I make mistakes sometimes.  Japanese speakers, if you see a mistake, please tell me!)

The full transcript is below the cut!

Leviathan’s Persistent(1) Challenges

LordDiavolo: I wonder what you’ll do this time

Belphie: Are you planning on doing magic tricks or something?

Mammoney: I don’t get what’s fun about it

L3V1: It’s now or never to make a view count killing(2)

#ChallengeVideo #Fad

Where the Spirit of Inquiry Leads

Lucifer: It’s nice that the room’s quiet today

monSOLO: Collecting nature’s ingredients seems interesting too

Angeluke: Satan, you’re surprisingly active!

stn: Next time I’ll look for something that works on humans too

#Expedition #UsualBehavior

Caring Big and Little Brother

Mammoney: Y’all fucking(3) ran away

DDSimeon: There are all sorts of toys too

stn: Taking a detour is fun, isn’t it?

ButlerBarb: I’ve started to want to bake a cake

#Toys #Cake

Brotherly Love Connected by Rail

AsmoBaby: Kids are out of my depth!

L3V1: Gross, awful, I’m speechless(4)

Belphie: I don’t lose when it comes to sleeping

LordDiavolo: Good work

#FirstTimeChildcare #ParentsAreGreat

Mammon’s Office Work

L3V1: Mammon seems decent or something lolololol(5)

ButlerBarb: It’s difficult to handle phone calls

Angeluke: Working is tough

Lucifer: Only his taste isn’t bad

#ClothesMakeTheMan #Suit

Belphegor Strengthening Program

DDSimeon: I’d like to try enlisting too

AsmoBaby: Maybe it’ll polish up his beauty too!

Belphie: This was intense

Beelzeburger: Let’s do it again

#HowToSleepWell #BuildingUpMuscleStrength

The Great(6) Makeover!?

L3V1: What’s setting up this persona you mentioned gonna do?(7)

Mammoney: It’s like the clothes are wearin’ him(8) or somethin’!

stn: A fatal miscalculation

monSOLO: It’s not good to try too hard

#Chihuahua #DevildomDebut

1. あくなき (akunaki) could mean “persistent” (飽くなき) or “evil-less” (悪なき), and while I’m gonna assume it’s the first, the potential for double meaning is pretty cool! 2. 再生回数 (saiseikaisuu) is the view count on a video, but Levi cuts out the third kanji and just says 再生数.  Apparently they do that in Love Live too, so the meaning shouldn’t change from the full 4-kanji term. 3. If you remember from the Mammon’s way of speech post, やがる (yagaru, yagatte here) is an auxiliary verb that means you’re pissed off that someone had the audacity to do something.  I debated between making him say “had the nerve to” and “fucking” but I like to let Mammon curse as a treat. 4. Levi if you finished your words it’d be easier to get what you mean 5. 草 (kusa) means grass, but it also means lol.  Laugh in Japanese is 笑う (warau), and since the first letter is w, lol started being written as w to save time.  And in the same way that we can say lololol in English, you can add more w’s for wwwww in Japanese, and that looks like grass!  So that’s why grass means lol. 6. If the title makes it sound like some sort of epic movie or novel, it’s because that’s exactly what 華麗なる (karei naru) is often used for! 7. ーてどうする (-te dousuru) literally means “what will you do”, but in a lot of contexts it means that whatever comes before it won’t accomplish anything. 8. Basically meaning that the clothes are better than Luke is, but in other cases it can also mean they’re too big.

Masterpost

レヴィアタンのあくなき挑戦

LordDiavolo: 今度は何をやってくれるのかな Belphie: 手品でもするつもり？ Mammoney: 面白さがわかんねー L3V1: 再生数荒稼ぎ待ったなしですわ ＃チャレンジ動画　＃流行

探求心が導く先に

Lucifer: 今日は部屋が静かでいい monSOLO: 自然の食材集めも面白そうだ Angeluke: サタン、意外にアクティブだな！ stn: 今度は人間にも効くものを探す ＃探検　＃いつものパターン

面倒見のいい兄と弟

Mammoney: おまえら逃げ出しやがって DDSimeon: オモチャも色々あるよね stn: 寄り道って楽しいよな ButlerBarb: ケーキが焼きたくなってきました ＃オモチャ　＃ケーキ

レールでつながる兄弟愛

AsmoBaby: おこちゃまは専門外！ L3V1: キモ、やば、ドン引き Belphie: 寝ることなら負けない LordDiavolo: おつかれさま ＃初めての育児　＃親は偉大

マモンのオフィスワーク

L3V1: マモンがまともに見えるとか草 ButlerBarb: 電話応対は難しいものです Angeluke: 働くって大変だな Lucifer: センスだけは悪くないな ＃馬子にも衣装　＃スーツ

ベルフェゴール強化計画

DDSimeon: 俺も入隊してみたい AsmoBaby: 美にも磨きがかかるかもね！ Belphie: この時はキツかった Beelzeburger: またやろう ＃よく眠れる方法　＃筋力アップ

華麗なる大変身！？

L3V1: これ以上キャラ立ててどうすんの？ Mammoney: 服に着られてるとかダゼー！ stn: 致命的な判断ミスだな monSOLO: 無理はよくない ＃チワワ　＃魔界デビュー

このタグは長すぎるじゃないの？？

[lovemesomesurveys]

surveys by taco-tuesdays

What are some foods from your childhood that you miss? A lot of them are still around, actually. What I miss is enjoying them as a kid. 

Which app on your phone do you use the most? Kindle Unlimited, YouTube, email, Facebook, Twitter, DoorDash.

Do you know of anyone who went into labor at the baby shower? No.

When's the last time you did a hand game with someone? (ie: Mary Mack) Uhhh. It’s been a very long time. 

How old is your oldest living relative? Late 80s.

What was the worst part about being a kid? I really enjoyed being a kid. I wasn’t in any rush at all to grow up.

What's the best part about being an adult? Meh, give me back my childhood.  

How many hours of sleep do you need in order to function successfully? It doesn’t matter, I still don’t function well.

What are two foods that are supposed to taste weird together, but you like? Scrambled eggs and ranch.

What is your favorite kind of dip? French onion dip, ranch dip, and spinach and artichoke dip.

Do you know anyone who was not born in a hospital, unexpectedly? I don’t think so.

Does anyone you know have dual citizenship to live in multiple countries? *shrug* I might.

Do you still have a landline phone/phone number? Yes.

Do you know anyone who lives in the Southern Hemisphere? No.

What are some things from childhood that you still do today? Color and watch some of the same shows sometimes.

Name a fad that was popular when you were growing up, that you miss. Hmm.

Have you ever gotten to milk a cow or a goat? No.

Have you ever taken a gymnastics class before? Nope. What's the worst part about being an adult? Like I said, I haven’t found it all that great overall. Especially not these past few years.

What was the best part about being a kid? For me I loved just being able to play and watch cartoons and whatnot and not stressing about things.

Were you ever force-fed as a child? No.

What's the worst thing you could hear before going under anesthesia? Something terrifying like something from a horror movie or something like, “Hope I don’t mess up.”

What's the last thing you rolled your eyes about? Something stupid I read.

Should kidneys or other organs be able to be bought and sold? I don’t think so.

When's the last time you had to refrain from telling someone I told you so? I’m not one to jump at the chance to say that; I don’t feel the need. I know people like that and I don’t like it.

What's one of your favorite riddles? *shrug*

What is one of your most important rules when going on a date? I would say meet up in public places for awhile until you feel comfortable, let people know where you’re at, take things slowly and get to know each other, don’t do anything you don’t feel comfortable with. Do you judge books by their covers? (actual books) Sure, but I’m more interested in the summary.

What unethical experiment would have the biggest positive impact on society? I don’t understand how this would come to life if it were already unethical to begin with. <<<

What did you find while snooping, that you really wish you hadn't? Some flirtatious text messages from someone to someone who was in a relationship.

What's something most people don't worry about but probably should? Hmm.

Do you use movie quotes often? Not really.

What are some of your favorite idioms/sayings? Of course I’m blanking at the moment.

Will children today have better or worse lives than their parents, and why? I want to say better. It seems as though today’s generation of parents make smarter decisions, are more politically aware, are more welcoming in terms of differences in society, etc. and I believe all of those can make for good influences on kids. <<< Well said, I agree.

When was the last time you had a new lease on life? It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that. 

What's the craziest conversation you've overheard? I often catch snippets of random conversations in passing or something that can be quite funny out of context.

What are some goals that humanity is not focused enough on achieving? I don’t understand the people who still fight hardcore against wearing a mask.

If you were capable of possessing people, what would you make them do? Nahhh, I’m good.

What's the most ironic thing you've seen happen? Uhh.

Which charitable cause is most deserving of money? I can’t say which is more deserving than another. There’s so many great charities to donate to that could be really beneficial.

Do you live in the same hometown as where you were born? Yeah.

Did you dorm at college or commute from home? I went to a local UC and lived closed by, so I just commuted.

How long before you tell someone that enough is enough? I don’t know. It really depends on the situation. There have been many times where I probably let things go on way too long and others I cut off too short. I’m also one to give out many chances and I consider myself to be an understanding person, perhaps too much at times.

Do you want to get married one day? Why or why not? No. 

Do you file your own taxes or have an accountant do it? I don’t do taxes since I don’t have a job.

How often do you get your haircut? I didn’t really have a set schedule or anything. Right now my hair is way too short and definitely not in need of one.

Do you prefer the thin blue and white masks, or decorative ones? I mean, the decorative ones are nicer of course. Ones that work the best, though, are what matters.

Have you ever witnessed someone have a seizure before? No.

Are you someone who puts a decent amount of emojis in their texts? No. I use them pretty sparingly.

What was the last excuse you used when you didn't want to hang out? It wasn’t an excuse, I really didn’t feel well. Do you own more solid colored socks or patterned socks? Patterned.

What is something that still excites you as though you were 5 years old? Disneyand.

Tennis, Ping-Pong, or Badminton? None.

Do you buy seasonal/limited edition treats for yourself? Yeah.

Have you ever rode on the back of a shopping cart, or a Home Depot dolly? No.

Does everything you buy have to be organic? No, I don’t shop organic. Some things I buy might happen to be organic, but it’s not something I seek out.

Do you support more small businesses or chain restaurants/stores? I do more of my shopping at chain restaurants and stores admittedly, but I love supporting small business as well when possible.

Starbucks, Tim Horton's, or Dunkin' Donuts? I’ve never had Tim Horton’s, but I’ve wanted to try it since I have heard it’s supposed to be really good. I don’t live close enough to a DD to get very often, but I do like it. I go to Starbucks all the time.

Have you ever been crowned king or queen at a school dance? No.

Do you have conversations with your pets or do voices for them? Yes, all the time.

[purplesurveys]

1322

surveys by taco-tuesdays

What are some foods from your childhood that you miss? Surprisingly a lot of my favorite childhood snacks are still around; but one that sadly got discontinued as soon as I first learned about it in first grade was a Japanese brand of chips called E-Aji. I was crazy for those, and I loved that they even came with dips.

Which app on your phone do you use the most? Either Facebook or Messenger.

Do you know of anyone who went into labor at the baby shower? No. I don’t even know anyone who’s held a baby shower.

When's the last time you did a hand game with someone? (ie: Mary Mack) I’m not sure. Maybe a year or two ago.

How old is your oldest living relative? I think my great-grandparent from my dad’s side is still alive; she’d have to be over 90 now.

What was the worst part about being a kid? Having to be stuck around kids who may not be raised as properly and may end up teasing, bullying, or being a general pain in the ass towards you – and still getting away with it because you’re both kids.

What's the best part about being an adult? The independence.

How many hours of sleep do you need in order to function successfully? Around 6 or 7. 5 is fine too I guess, but I might be cranky for a while.

What are two foods that are supposed to taste weird together, but you like? ...ugh, I’m blanking out at the moment.

What is your favorite kind of dip? I don’t have a preference; I like dips in general and am always open to trying new/unfamiliar flavors.

Do you know anyone who was not born in a hospital, unexpectedly? Nope. As far as I know everyone I know had been born in the hospital.

Does anyone you know have dual citizenship to live in multiple countries? Probably.

Do you still have a landline phone/phone number? Yeah, we keep it around for older relatives who don’t have cellphones.

Do you know anyone who lives in the Southern Hemisphere? Yeah we have a number of relatives who have settled in Australia and New Zealand.

What are some things from childhood that you still do today? Tinker around with anything that has buttons or knobs or anything I can toy with.

Name a fad that was popular when you were growing up, that you miss. I don’t miss any fads.

Have you ever gotten to milk a cow or a goat? Never yet.

Have you ever taken a gymnastics class before? I mean we were given a few gymnastics-related lessons in our PE classes, like we were taught the basics of walking on a beam, but I’ve never taken a full-on gymnastics class.

What's the worst part about being an adult? All the boring but required bills.

What was the best part about being a kid? The much shorter and simpler list of things to worry about.

--

Were you ever force-fed as a child? No.

What's the worst thing you could hear before going under anesthesia? Idk, probably someone realizing at the last second that they fucked up the dosage or whatever.

What's the last thing you rolled your eyes about? Clients and media messaging me on Viber and following up on various stuff despite my profile picture which clearly and loudly states I’M ON LEAVE.

Should kidneys or other organs be able to be bought and sold? That just doesn’t sound right to me. I know a lot of young people (me included, lol) make jokes about selling a kidney to get concert tickets or whatever, but at the end of the day I just don’t think this is something very sustainable. I’m alright with the option of having your organs donated at most.

When's the last time you had to refrain from telling someone I told you so? Cooper is having a bit of a diarrhea issue today and I just know it’s came from overeating c/o my mom. I’ve kept telling her to calm the fuck down when it comes to the servings and she never listened, so today she has had to deal with the dog vomiting and poop that’s on the soft side.

What's one of your favorite riddles? I’m not a big fan of riddles.

What is one of your most important rules when going on a date? I don’t really go on dates, but I imagine I’d be a bit conservative. No kissing or hand-holding or anything, especially if I don’t know them all that well yet.

Do you judge books by their covers? (actual books) Yes, sometimes.

What unethical experiment would have the biggest positive impact on society? I don’t understand how this would come to life if it were already unethical to begin with.

What did you find while snooping, that you really wish you hadn't? Ok this was definitely my fault, but during my heartbroken and hung up era (lol) I remember going through my ex’s account after we broke up just so I can see what she had been up to. I saw a tweet where she was talking about how happy she finally was, so...you can just imagine how that went down for me. 

I entered into another spiral, but it was also one of those moments that flicked a switch inside of me, telling me to just move the fuck on. I did shortly after. It’s a memory I wouldn’t wish on anyone, but I’m also grateful for it to some extent.

What's something most people don't worry about but probably should? House fires. It’s something I’ve always been paranoid about.

Do you use movie quotes often? Almost never.

What are some of your favorite idioms/sayings? I don’t really find myself using a lot of idioms these days.

Will children today have better or worse lives than their parents, and why? I want to say better. It seems as though today’s generation of parents make smarter decisions, are more politically aware, are more welcoming in terms of differences in society, etc. and I believe all of those can make for good influences on kids.

When was the last time you had a new lease on life? Probably the start of 2021 when I started to proactively bring in good change for myself and my mental health and my life in general.

What's the craziest conversation you've overheard? As much as I enjoy getting gossip from my friends, I don’t actually eavesdrop myself lol. I mute people out when I’m in public.

What are some goals that humanity is not focused enough on achieving? Eliminating racial discrimination.

If you were capable of possessing people, what would you make them do? I don’t even want to start thinking about this.

What's the most ironic thing you've seen happen? Seeing people be crazy religious lunatics while still advocating for thieves and creeps in public office.

Which charitable cause is most deserving of money? I think it differs for everyone since we all have our own advocacies. Personally I’d keep donating to animal shelters or any animal-related NGO.

--

Do you live in the same hometown as where you were born? No, I haven’t lived in Manila in over 20 years. Fortunately.

Did you dorm at college or commute from home? I drove to and from home. My university wasn’t too far away that I needed to move into a dorm.

How long before you tell someone that enough is enough? Depends on the person. I give most people a chance or two; but for people I view more important/want to keep in life I’d pretty much act like a doormat for them.

Do you want to get married one day? Why or why not? It would be nice to, but it’s the kind of thing where I’d be fine whether I end up getting married or not. It’s definitely not a priority right now.

Do you file your own taxes or have an accountant do it? My company does it for me.

How often do you get your haircut? Just once a year. I’m not very hands-on when it comes to my hair.

Do you prefer the thin blue and white masks, or decorative ones? No preference; I just go with whatever stock we happen to have at home.

Have you ever witnessed someone have a seizure before? No.

Are you someone who puts a decent amount of emojis in their texts? Eh, not really. I barely use emojis with friends, but I would insert one or two when I’m texting someone for work purposes.

What was the last excuse you used when you didn't want to hang out? I don’t turn down offers to hang out.

Do you own more solid colored socks or patterned socks? Patterned.

What is something that still excites you as though you were 5 years old? Honestly? Fireworks.

Tennis, Ping-Pong, or Badminton? Table tennis!

Do you buy seasonal/limited edition treats for yourself? Just sometimes. I don’t have to have them.

Have you ever rode on the back of a shopping cart, or a Home Depot dolly? Yeah. It’s been a while since I did the groceries with my family but I would definitely still hop on the back of a shopping cart and zoom through the aisles at 23 hahaha.

Does everything you buy have to be organic? No. Things are different here and most of us can’t really afford to go that extra mile to make sure everything we get is organic or gluten-free or vegan or whatever. Those products aren’t the most accessible here to begin with.

Do you support more small businesses or chain restaurants/stores? I think I give an equal amount of support. Sometimes I’ll order a meal from small businesses on IG; other times I’ll, say, get a specific craving I can only get from a big chain.

Starbucks, Tim Horton's, or Dunkin' Donuts? Literally I love all of these.

Have you ever been crowned king or queen at a school dance? No.

Do you have conversations with your pets or do voices for them? Sure.

[random-imagines-blog]

They Speak the Language {Tech Boy x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2181 Summary: Tech-Boy’s bad mood is starting to get to you, so you start to look for inspiration to turn it around. Notes: Contains bad language.

You knew it was a bad idea to get involved in the war between the old gods and the new. You were somewhere in the middle, along with a couple of others, who could very well tip the scales. And it wasn’t that you believed that one side was better than the other either. But one side had someone that you cared for more than the others. And that was the dangerous, marvelous, grumpy little thing that you knew as Tech-Boy. Of course you had thought that he was a bit of a douche when you met him for the first time, shortly after his emergence into the world. Everybody did. It was a part of his charm. But deep down, yeah, there was a heart there. After all, not all technology is meant to be cold. Most of it was built to help others, or to improve lives. He just took the functional part of it a little too seriously at times.

You took a lot of rides with him in his special car. Sitting in the back with him as it drove itself - or rather, one of the faceless minions drove - around the different cities. Anywhere you wanted to go, you could. New York one minute, LA the next. Technology had no bounds, no limits, and so - neither did Tech-Boy.

“Why are you wearing your shirt like that,” You scoffed once you realized what it was that he was wearing. The jacket itself was nice, but he only had the top three buttons fastened. The rest were undone, showing off the red shirt underneath. “You look like you’re preparing for a huge dinner or something. You don’t even eat. What gives?”

You poked at his thin stomach, and he shoved your arm away. He adjusted the coat so it was exactly how he liked it, the open flaps down. “It’s the new look, y/n. Not that you know anything about what’s new.”

“Wow, someone’s being fucking harsh,” You said, folding your arms around yourself. You’d grown used to his rather ... delicate temper over the years. You knew not to take offense. “What crawled in your vape and died?”

“New Media,” He grumbled. You nodded, knowing that was a pretty good reason. The bubbly but bitchy new form of Media was a pain in the ass. You preferred the old. At least she had class. And a pretty good David Bowie impersonation.

“Say no more,” You said, sinking into the interior of the seat. You made yourself comfortable as the car went. You didn’t know where you were, nor did you know where you were going. It was more so about the journey than the destination. And with this teched-out car, the journey was definitely in style. “Just don’t forget that she owes her existence to you. Without the printing press, smartphones, internet - all that you have created - she’d be nothing. Lord it over her. I do it all the time.”

“You talk about me to her?” He asked, eyebrows shooting up towards his curls.

“More like I brag about you to her,” You snorted. “Okay, she might be a bit more superior than I am in the hierarchy, I’m barely anything, but you? Bitch is kidding herself if she thinks that she’s better than you. And guess what, you like me-”

“Barely fucking tolerate-” He muttered.

“-way more than you do her, so in her stupid face.” You didn’t allow his interruption to bother your momentum. You knew that behind that hard, technological, douchebag exterior was a heart wrapped in microchips. A soft, beating heart.

“She just doesn’t have to be so fucking smug,” He said. You could still feel anger coming off of him like heat waves. You just chuckled at his attitude - he really let things get under his skin. And he tried so hard to pretend to be this big tough guy.

“Don’t worry about it,” You said, patting his knee. “You’ll be around for the rest of time, and media is just going to be a fad. Especially her kind of media. She’ll get reborn again and again, as media changes. So -- forgedd abou-it.” You attempted your best accent, trying to sound like the Italians in the movies.

“You’re fucking horrible, you know that?” He said to you. But before he turned his head, you could just make out the corner of his lips going up into a smile. You would call that a success.

“So where are we off to, today? Silicon valley to go and mess with the nerds? Seattle to go and talk to Bill Gates? Come on, hit me with something fun.”

He just shrugged in retaliation. “I don’t feel like fucking with anyone today. I just want to .... go.”

“Okay, then let’s go...” You said, eyebrows furrowed. It really didn’t feel like it was a success anymore. He was closing off from you again, and you didn’t have any other choice but to let it happen.

-

You drove around for hours. There wasn’t anyway to measure the time, and the windows were permanently dark so you couldn’t see if it was day or if it was night out there. It didn’t matter. You had nowhere that you had to be, nor anywhere that you would rather go. He did slowly start to open back up. He bitched a lot, but he was well known for doing that. You would be much more concerned if he suddenly started to be positive. But he was slowly getting there.

It must be hard for him. He always provided what the people wanted, and what they needed. There was a difference between the two and he gave both. But there was always so much pressure to do more. To be better. He could outdo himself on one thing, and the next day, people would be clammering for bigger and better. He never got to actually enjoy what he gave.

Even those who had helped to bring into this world, like Media, and New Media. They came from him. They wouldn’t be here without him. And yet, they also just asked for more, more, more. They took, and they took. And gave nothing in return. They claimed some of his gifts to this world. They made it all about them. Look what I can do! If you worship me, you’re worshiping yourself! Narcissism at the touch of a button! Look at this celebrity’s ass! Look at these tits! Oh, a dick pic! Look, look, look.

What a lonely existence that he must have, you thought, as you watched him take puff after puff out of his vape. You don’t really know what he did outside of these drives with you. He never talked about it - only mentioned World and Media in passing. Not what he did with them. Not how the war plans were going. He tended to keep you separate from that part of his life.

“Fuck it,” You said, leaning forward in your seat. “Pull over.”

The driver did what he, or rather it, was told, and pulled the car over to the side of the road. You didn’t even know where you were. It could have been in a field, or a dark and creepy alley, or the suburbs of Albuquerque.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Tech asked, looking at you like you had suddenly gone insane.

“You’re acting like an asshole,” You said, shrugging, and opened your door. “And it’s honestly killing my vibe so... I’m going out to find it again.”

“Find your vibe? Here’s your vibe check-” He said, making a gun with his fingers and pointed it at you. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“And?” You got out of the car, and felt the cool night breeze on your face. It blew through your hair, and it felt pretty good after the staleness of the inside of the car. You looked at your surroundings, and grinned as you saw some lights not too far in the distance.

A movie theater. Absolutely perfect.

Tech-Boy slid out of the car as well, and stood in the middle of the street. His facial expression left you no doubts that he was doing this against his will. He didn’t want to be out here. “What the fuck are you doing?” He finally asked.

“Come on, you big grump,” You said, taking hold of his hand and started to pull his thin frame towards the theater. He grumbled, but he walked along. Once you were inside, you noticed that there was an arcade area, for those who came too early for the movie. “Let’s have some fun. You really seem like you need it.”

Eventually, you had him paying air-hockey. He only half-ass played until you scored on him three times in a row, and then his more competitive streak started to show. He was moving back and forth, using his striker to block off all of your attempts. And just when it seemed like you were slowing down, he went from defense to offense. The puck shot across the table and straight through the slot on your side. The table let out a clang, and added one to his score. You picked out the disk with amusement as you watched him do a little shimmy dance. His thin little hips stuck out of his designer jeans, making you chuckle.

“I’m still ahead, douche,” You said, putting the puck down and shooting it while he was distracted. He was quick though, and blocked it, sending it back your way.

You played five games, until best three out of five, which he ended up winning. You hadn’t let him either - that wouldn’t have been fair. You then went onto the motor-races, with the chairs and the steering wheels. This was also something that he was better at than you were, but you didn’t mind losing. It was seriously so good to hear him laugh. And to hear him say ‘fuck’ in joy when he won, rather than annoyance at someone else.

You got a bag of popcorn and some soda just to watch him play Pacman. “Little - color - fuckers -” He mumbled when they came too close to his circular, yellow character. Only to let out barks of laughter when he got the big pellet and was able to eat them down. “Eat my ass, losers.”

Eventually you were both thrown out due to Tech-Boys language, but you didn’t even care. You didn’t even know which city you were. The likelihood that you would come back was slim to none. You got back into the car, the good mood still going.

“Well, this has been fun,” You said, resting your head on top of Tech-Boy’s shoulder. You were starting to get tired - even some of the minor Gods needed to sleep at times. “I should probably go home though.”

“Okay,” Tech-Boy said, and with a snap of his fingers, the car started to head in that direction. The rest of the ride remained silent, but it was a comfortable silence. Once in a while, a little laugh slipped through as the energy of the night stayed with you.

Eventually it all came to an end as the car stopped outside of your place. You reluctantly took your head off of his shoulder, and got out of the car, but paused before you would close the door. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” He said with a nod, picking up his vape once more.

“Okay - bye Techie. Love you!”

He looked at you like you were crazy, then did a shooing motion to try to get you on your way. But you didn’t move.

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” You questioned, leaning on the top of the door as it swayed under your weight. He curled his nose at you, and then tried to dismiss you again. But you didn’t move, just stood there grinning at him. “Not gonna leave until you say it back, big guy.”

He mumbled something under his breath. You cupped your hand around your ear. “What’s that?”

“Love you too,” He said, finally in a voice loud enough for you to hear. “You fucking freak.”

“Aww, you’re such a softie,” You grinned, sticking your tongue out between your teeth. You finally closed the door and made your way up to your place, the car idling outside until you were safely through the door. Tech-Boy held up his hand to snap his fingers, but didn’t until he saw the light in your window come on. Despite being alone, he smiled, chuckled, then finally told the car to keep on going. He might as well head home - the best part of his night was over.

[sleekervae]

The Neighbour [0.2]

Masterlist

Eva clung especially tightly to Pluto as she followed Remington back to the front gate, her cheeks burning red hot with humiliation. It didn't help either that this kid happened to be wickedly handsome and sans shirt all the while.

Remington wasn't so bothered by the incident, worse case scenario he could convince the guys to order a pizza like he was craving. Nonetheless, he didn't blame Eva; he tried to put that across by keeping the friendly smile on his face and putting her at ease.

"You know, it's not a big deal -- with the food and everything," he assured her, "We'll just order a pizza or something,"

Eva shrugged, "I know. It's just -- you know, I guess this isn't how I expected everything was going to go," she said, "Moving is tough enough with everything going on, and now it seems I got to get a play cage for this little monster,"

Remington patted the top of Pluto's head, "He's not so bad, just a little hungry. Cute little guy, aren't ya?" The pale tabby closed his eyes and rubbed his scruffy head against his palm.

Eva smiled a little, "He likes you. You should be honored, he doesn't warm up to strangers so easily,"

"Well of course he likes me. We have the same hair colour," Remington grinned, subconsciously running a hand through his black and blonde hair.

"You could be twins," Eva chuckled sardonically.

Remington opened the gate for her, "So... do you like the neighbourhood?" he asked.

"It's nice so far," Eva nodded, "I'm still unpacking all my boxes and shit so I haven't really had the opportunity to explore. And given the circumstances and... I -- I forgot my face mask too, fuck,"

Remington shrugged, swallowing the ball of nerves creeping up his throat, "You look pretty healthy to me," he said.

Eva smiled politely, hoping she could attribute the flush in her cheeks to the heat. There was something about him, he was familiar to her. She didn't come right out and say it, perhaps he just had one of those faces one sees and recognizes from somewhere else.

"Well, I should get going. And tell those guys I'm sorry again," she said, walking backwards to the sidewalk.

Remington simply shook his head, "Honestly, don't even give a second thought. Welcome to the neighbourhood, Eva"

"Thank you, Remington,"

There was something about the way his name rolled off of her tongue that sounded so sweet to him. He continued to stand at the gate and watched the pretty young girl cross the street and back into the apartment courtyard. Eva turned and took one last fleeting glance, a zing of electricity zipping down her spine when she saw Remington was still standing there.

Slamming the door to her apartment, she placed Pluto back on the floor, washed her hands thoroughly, and went back to her kitchen to continue with her baking exploits. She tied an apron around her waist, pulled out her ingredients and tried to find a good recipe on her phone. She also made sure to close the window.

She was unbothered when Pluto jumped onto the counter and took a seat, staring at his owner curiously. Eva stared at him just as intently, having half the mind to shoo him off the countertop. He seemed to almost be smiling at her.

"And what are you looking at, sausage thief?"

Some days passed; days filled with doing absolutely nothing. If everything was normal, Palaye Royale would have been smack in the middle of their European tour. Instead, Remington was sitting in his room, bored out of his mind as he continued to press the buttons on his xbox controller. He had played this game so many times, it was too easy. The challenge was gone.

Today was Friday, another Friday that was filled with perpetual boredom and misery. Riding around on his scooter wasn't fun, video games weren't fun, even trying to annoy Emerson wasn't as fun. There was little drive for him to do the bare minimum; it was just an achievement alone that he forced himself to shower this morning.

Lying back on his bed, he stared up at the empty ceiling, closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. Maybe the time would go faster if he slept more, like a hibernating bear? However, the notion of sleep was swiftly yanked away when he heard the doorbell ring.

He groaned audibly and turned over, his dark brown eyes still shut tight, "Emerson! Someone's at the door!" he called. There was no response, not even the shuffling echo of feet. Was Emerson even home? Maybe he'd ordered something off Amazon again and conveniently forgot to tell Remington while he was out.

If it was a package and he'd missed it, he didn't want to hear Emerson going off about having to drag himself down to the post office to sign for it -- in a pandemic no less. A month in and this pandemic was already getting to be old news.

Nevertheless, Remington pulled himself out of bed and jogged downstairs, hoping the Amazon guy hadn't left yet. He didn't take into account that he was only in his indigo dotted shorts and nothing else, throwing open the door without a care. However, he was surprised to see a plastic bag at his feet, at the gate was Eva.

Eva had just pulled back the latch to the gate when she heard the door open, and she was no doubt taken aback to see Remington standing there... again without a shirt. He looked weary and tired, the complete opposite to Eva's glowing face and yellow summer dress.

"You're not the Amazon guy," Remington spoke candidly.

Eva cocked her head, "Uh, no. Afraid not," she shrugged, "You expecting a package?"

"No," Reming shook his head, "I mean, my brother might be, but he's not home and I have no... um, nevermind. What brings you over here?" he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, trying to collect himself a bit more.

Eva pointed to the bag at his feet, "I made some bread. The recipe made three loaves and I don't need that many carbs," she chuckled awkwardly, "I thought maybe you guys might like one?"

"Oh," Remington picked up the bag and pulled back the plastic, finding a round, crisp loaf of bread inside, probably a bit bigger than Mishka, "That's very nice of you,"

"I just felt bad about the other day --"

"I told you, it's no big deal,"

"I know," Eva nodded, scratching at the skin behind her ear, "I ... jeez. Just being neighbourly, I guess?"

"I'm the one who should be fucking neighbourly," Remington grinned, "You want to come in for a drink or something? ... Or maybe we should sit on the lawn instead? That's social distancing, right?"

Eva smiled sheepishly but shook her head, "I actually have to stop by my storage unit and pick up the rest of my things. I'm just looking for a Waive,"

"You don't have a car?" he asked.

"Well, it was either the apartment or the car, and I figure I can survive off public transit for the next little while," she replied.

It was then a truly incredible idea entered Remington's head, "... I can drive you over, if you want," he said.

Eva smiled graciously, "Oh no, that's okay. There's one up four blocks from here, and I don't want to be a bother," she replied.

"It's no bother at all," Remington grinned, "As long as I'm back in time for my set schedule of nothing, followed by nothing, and then more nothing," hey, it was at least a reason for him to get out of the house.

Eva crossed her left leg behind her right, clearly a little unsure. It wasn't advisable to get into a car with a stranger when circumstances were normal, and now couldn't have been an exception.

"I don't know, Remington,"

He could see the apprehension spread over her delicate face, and he didn't blame her for being on the edge. He wasn't even sure if she should've even been in his backyard the other day. Then again, he knew he was being safe, and as far as he saw Eva never went anywhere, or had anybody over.

"I get it if you're uncomfortable," he told her, "But I don't go anywhere. And the only people I ever really see are the people you met the other day. That's it. I just... I wanna' do everything right so we can go back to normal as soon as we can. And you seem like a nice girl and I would hate to know you're having to suck up quarantine by yourself,"

Eva took a minute to think it over. She glanced down the street, maybe thinking she could catch sight of the shared car her map was telling her was within a four-block radius. Then again, she wasn't all that comfortable having to use a car-sharing service since the pandemic started, but she couldn't take her stuff on the bus and she couldn't afford Uber rates. Besides, Remington was only one guy...

"... If you don't mind," she said finally, "Maybe we can just leave the windows down and have our masks on?

Remington tried to hold back the big grin that wanted to explode over his lips, "It's seventy-five degrees out, you bet your ass I'm gonna' have the windows down," he said, "I'll just go throw on a shirt,"

"Do you have a habit of going without a shirt?" she asked.

Remington smirked, "Only on Wednesdays... and when beautiful women happen to be around,"

Eva rolled her eyes, but she was smiling nonetheless. She actually found him to be quite charming, "Well, it's not Wednesday," she took a brief look around, "And there are no pretty girls here,"

"Oh, come on, don't sell yourself short, Eva," he winked coyly as he rewrapped the bread in the plastic, "Just outta' curiosity, is this --?"

"Sourdough," Eva nodded shyly.

"What is up with this sourdough fad?" he asked.

"I don't know," she threw her arms out, "I just wanted to fit in and be cool, I guess,"

"You named your cat after an Edgar Allan Poe book, you're already cool,"

Eva waited patiently outside as Remington dashed into his room. However, he stopped short when he found a post-it note was stuck to his door. He must've blown past it when he went to answer downstairs. It was notably written in Emerson's chicken scratch and he read it to himself.

"Remington, I'm off with Shy to the beach. Text me if you want to cook or do take out, unless of course I come home before you open your door... and you won't find this note," he glowered at the dark blue ink, "Seriously?"

About an hour later, having collected the rest of her boxes from storage, Remington followed Eva up three flights of stairs to her little corner apartment. Eva had a bit of a rough time trying to put the key in the lock without dropping her box, but she was finally able to get the door open and push her way inside. Pluto was in his bed, none too bothered by his owner's presence. It was only when he smelled the unfamiliar scent of men's soap and hair product that he turned his head to Remington.

He was quick to leap up and come trotting over, nearly scaring Remington out of his skin when he started rubbing up against his leg, "What the --? Oh, hi Pluto," he grinned at the pale and black-striped tabby.

Eva huffed at her cat, setting down her box and going to scoop him up, "Pluto! Let him in before you start whoring," He gave a yrowl of protest before he was dropped back into his bed.

"Sorry about that," she said.

"It's no problem," Remington wasn't shy about having a few glances around her small studio space. It was cozy, yet not fully furnished as the walls were still bare and her shelves were empty. On the right hand side, two perpendicular walls separated the kitchen space from the bedroom (it was more like a bed cubby), and on the other side she had a small couch with a glass coffee table, and beside that a desk that prescribed the definition of 'messy'. Looking out through a sliding door, Eva had a small balcony with two chairs and small dining table -- where she had a perfect view of his house.

"Please forgive the mess, too. I'm shit at organizing," Eva said, having now pulled down her blue medical mask so it rested under her chin. Remington did the same.

"It's definitely a lot cleaner than my place," he said, still gripping tightly the cardboard box, "Where would you like this?"

Eva set down her box on the kitchen counter, took a glance at the writing at the side before directing him, "Just down by the bookcase, is fine," and she started pulling apart her own box.

Remington set down his box and opened it as well, astonished and impressed to see rows of vinyls lined up and packed tightly. She had music that ranged from Billie Holiday to Harry Styles; some sleeves more worn down than others. Unable to help himself, Remington had a flip through her music, you could always best judge somebody by what they threw on the turntable. Remington's smile grew when he found his own record, Boom Boom Room Side A.

"You have good taste," he said, turning and holding up the vinyl.

Eva turned from her box full of novels, a tinge of red spreading over her cheeks when she saw him crouched over her music and holding a record. But when she realized the worn down sleeve was for Palaye Royale, it suddenly clicked in her mind where she'd seen Remington from. A small warmth flooded through her gut.

"I knew you looked familiar," she blushed, "Your hair's different, that's why I didn't recognize you,"

"I take it this is your only record of ours?" he smirked.

Eva shrugged, "It was a birthday present. I liked a lot of what I heard, though," she ruffled a hand through her short hair, "There was one song I heard and I just fucking loved it. It went something like... oh my gosh, like um..." she started humming the chorus to something that sounded like Mr. Doctor Man.

The melody was instantly recognizable to Remington, but he let her carry on longer than necessary to watch her, the giggle she let out while she hummed simply delicious. He could never sing that song the same way again after hearing that.

"I think that's supposed to be Mr. Doctor Man," he chuckled once she had stopped giggling.

Eva pointed a finger at him, "That's it! I loved it because it sounded like The Killers!" Eva couldn't believe she just hummed that song to Remington fucking Leith. She wasn't sure why she had let Palaye Royale fall off her radar, having remembered how much fun she had jamming to that vinyl in her old place. And the voice on Remington was so sexy, she couldn't help but be so enthralled by those raspy high and low notes he would hit.

"That's probably one of the best comparisons I've had, yet," he told her, "They also happen to originate from Vegas,"

Her cheeks were still burning but she lifted her eyes slowly back to his and gave a tentative smile, "What is it with all you cool rock bands coming out of Las Vegas?"

"Like they say; Vegas is built on hopes, dreams, and crazy people," he gave her a wide, toothy grin just to make his point.

"Who said that?" Eva asked.

"I don't know, but it makes a fuck ton of a sense," Remington replied, "Would you like me to put these in the shelf?" he pointed to the bookcase.

Eva shook her head, "No, you don't have to do that. You didn't even have to help me haul all this shit upstairs," she said.

"And leave a lovely lady to break her back on her own? My own mother would be so ashamed of me," he scoffed back, waving his hand at her, "And besides, as your new friend I insist on helping you out,"

Eva cocked her head, "So, you and I went from acquaintances to friends all within an hour and some?"

"Well, if you had hummed my song earlier, we would've been friends before Pluto even stole the sausage," Remington grinned, then glancing at the tabby, "No hard feelings, Pluto," The cat simply stared back at him.

He glanced back at Eva, "... Why does he keep staring at me?" he whispered.

Eva smirked, "He's a very personable cat. Either that, or he wants your shoes,"

"So, if I leave my sneakers on the stairs of my house, he'll come over and actually make a meal out of them?" he asked.

"I've lost so many shoes to this cat, I swear I have to keep them locked up in my closet," she replied.

Remington glanced at the cat again, narrowing his eyes as though to mockingly challenge the feline, whispering menacingly "I got my eye on you, bitch,"

[chill-that-ur-inmyhead]

What are some foods from your childhood that you miss?

I still have my fav childhood food - fish fingers, potato waffles… oh I do miss fruit shoots, a drink rather than food, I hardly drink my fav childhood drinks nowadays.

Which app on your phone do you use the most?

Netflix - just constantly rewatching my fav shows and movies

Do you know of anyone who went into labour at the baby shower?

Nope

When’s the last time you did a hand game with someone? (ie: Mary Mack)

Oh wow defo 5 plus years

How old is your oldest living relative?

My maternal grandad turned 90 this year in September

What was the worst part about being a kid?

Personally, not being able to understand or control my emotions. I felt everything so strongly and it turned me into a brat.

What’s the best part about being an adult?

INDEPENDENCE - financial, physical, spiritual, it is great

How many hours of sleep do you need in order to function successfully?

7 hours plus

What are two foods that are supposed to taste weird together, but you like?

I don’t think I’ve got any - I remember my friend said apple and peanut butter and I was shocked but now I’m not completely against it

What is your favourite kind of dip?

I had dominos recently and their garlic and herb dip just brings so much happiness - but I’ve only had it with their food so maybe it tastes bad outside the dominos menu haha

Do you know anyone who was not born in a hospital, unexpectedly?

Not yet

Does anyone you know have dual citizenship to live in multiple countries?

Yes. Bulgaria, Ghana, Nigeria, maybe the Philippines

Do you still have a landline phone/phone number?

My family home does

Do you know anyone who lives in the Southern Hemisphere?

Yes, some of my dad’s family are in New Zealand and distant relatives in South Africa

What are some things from childhood that you still do today?

Fantasise about different scenarios that will never happen, ha womp womp

Name a fad that was popular when you were growing up, that you miss.

In the 2010s, waiting for the newest episode of Pretty Little Liars and other American drama shows to be released and finding some dodgy website to watch the full episode. It was exciting in its own way and the best feeling when you found a website that had the full good quality episode.

Have you ever gotten to milk a cow or a goat?

I don’t think so

Have you ever taken a gymnastics class before?

Nope, after ballet I was done trying anything that required flexibility and pose.

What’s the worst part about being an adult?

It is more difficult to escape reality. I used to be able to escape into my own world as a kid but now I find it’s further away each time.

What was the best part about being a kid?

Blissful ignorance

Were you ever force-fed as a child?

Nope.

What’s the worst thing you could hear before going under anaesthesia?

‘This is my first time doing this’ or something equally distressing

What’s the last thing you rolled your eyes about?

My friend telling stories about his annoying project supervisor.

Should kidneys or other organs be able to be bought and sold?

Wow I’ve never thought about this before. I’m going to say no for now but will probs need to research more the pros and cons.

When’s the last time you had to refrain from telling someone I told you so?

My mum forgot to get milk when I said in the morning we were running out of milk.

What’s one of your favourite riddles?

I don’t know enough riddles to have a favourite one haha

What is one of your most important rules when going on a date?

I try to ask questions equally as I answer questions. It’s more important to be interested than interesting.

Do you judge books by their covers? (actual books)

For sure.

What unethical experiment would have the biggest positive impact on society?

I was under the impression that the covid vaccine were tested on animals first before being rolled out to humans. Unethical but it happened.

What did you find while snooping, that you really wish you hadn’t?

The only time I snooped and found something I didn’t like was when I was in my uni relationship. It was when insta still revealed who liked what and who began following whom etc. Well my boyfriend at the time started to follow this girl and I immediately jumped to conclusions. Turns out his friend matched with the girl and wanted to make sure she was legit but he didn’t have insta so asked my boyf to check. I felt like a fool and I’ve never snooped since then. 

What’s something most people don’t worry about but probably should?

The planet is dying and more needs to be done!! :(

Do you use movie quotes often?

Always. 80% of my vocab is a quote from either a movie or tv show haha

What are some of your favourite idioms/sayings?

I already used it above haha - that it is more important to be interested than interesting. 

Will children today have better or worse lives than their parents, and why?

Better. We talk about things more so than our parents generation and I think as long as we keep that conversation going it will prove beneficial. 

When was the last time you had a new lease on life?

September 2021 - I left my admin job at a law firm and it really encouraged me to follow law as a career.

What’s the craziest conversation you’ve overheard?

I haven’t heard that many. I always have my airpods in or I’m talking to my friends not paying attention to other convos haha.

What are some goals that humanity is not focused enough on achieving?

Helping to save the planet from dying!!!

If you were capable of possessing people, what would you make them do?

Probs stop whole countries from relying on fossil fuels and compel them to a more sustainable way of living. 

What’s the most ironic thing you’ve seen happen?

Which charitable cause is most deserving of money?

Literally cannot rank different charities. They all speak for good causes.

Do you live in the same hometown as where you were born?

Not right now I am studying. But will be going back their for Christmas. 

Did you dorm at college or commute from home?

I stayed on campus and it was the best.

How long before you tell someone that enough is enough?

It is different for everyone but I think repetitive behaviour if it happens more than twice, I’ll say something. 

Do you want to get married one day? Why or why not?

Sigh. I’ve been thinking about this a lot. Best laid plans and all that. I used to think yes of course. It’s not the thought of marriage that gets to me but the thought of divorce. Relationships are tricky and of course they end. But a marriage that ends is so much more crushing and spenny. 

Do you file your own taxes or have an accountant do it?

I am a student now. But I used to do my own.

How often do you get your haircut?

3 or 4 months is when I think I need to tidy this mane up

Do you prefer the thin blue and white masks, or decorative ones?

I have some of my own that my work gave me. Blue fabric and they’re comfortable when I wear it which is most important.

Have you ever witnessed someone have a seizure before?

Yes.

Are you someone who puts a decent amount of emojis in their texts?

Yep.

What was the last excuse you used when you didn’t want to hang out?

My mum wants me to come home despite being 22 haha

Do you own more solid coloured socks or patterned socks?

Solid colours.

What is something that still excites you as though you were 5 years old?

Milkshakes

Tennis, Ping-Pong, or Badminton?

Badminton

Do you buy seasonal/limited edition treats for yourself?

Yes

Have you ever rode on the back of a shopping cart, or a Home Depot dolly?

Yes

Does everything you buy have to be organic?

Not everything.

Do you support more small businesses or chain restaurants/stores?

I try to every now and then.

Starbucks, Tim Horton’s, or Dunkin’ Donuts?

Dunkin Donuts

Have you ever been crowned king or queen at a school dance?

nope 

Do you have conversations with your pets or do voices for them?

Yes

[marawritingstuff]

SUNSHINE

Finally, I would like to thank my fellow classmates.  I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you.

Valedictorian speech written.   Come on, Amelia, no sleeping.   Time to write the memoriam.   Everybody would have completely forgotten about Sunshine, aka Jennifer, if those idiots stopped talking about weird stuff.

On this day as the Class of 2008 celebrates our graduation, our Sunshine isn’t here.   Jennifer Halloway sadly took her life seven months ago.  

Couldn’t someone else give this speech? Heaven knows, we weren’t friends. Sunshine didn’t have any friends. I didn’t even know her!  Well, maybe a little bit.

Sunshine always lit up a room with her distinctive style.  She brought laughter wherever she went.

My first encounter with Sunshine occurred the first day of fifth grade.  Jennifer stumbled through the homeroom door dressed in a jumper that was falling apart at the seams with a sun patch centered slightly below her large breasts.  The tall, overweight girl, with a haircut that even a discount barber wouldn’t admit to, clutched her books closely to her chest.  As a chorus of “You are My Sunshine” sprang from the mouths of a group of students near the back, a storm of spitballs flew through the air.  Sunshine didn’t even look up amid the commotion but headed to a corner desk at the far side of the classroom. A wave of sympathy overcame me, and I began to get up to greet her, only to be met by Susie, my best friend’s hand. I looked at my friends.  Some were laughing while others had wrinkled up their faces as if Sunshine had a communicable disease that could be passed through the air by her mere presence.  There is not much I can say now.  Then I was a ten-year-old girl who wanted to be liked so I wrote off Sunshine’s life, joining in my friends’ laughter and jeers that would last for nearly seven more years.

Her intelligence and compassion did not go unnoticed by teachers and fellow students.

Sunshine remained on the periphery of my universe.   We were both smart, extremely smart.  Advanced placement classes cluttered our schedules; at least for a while, but she lacked the social graces to stay amongst the “gifted.”  Group projects were the new fad in education.   My peers pretended to let Sunshine be part of the group during class, but everyone knew the real discussions, work, and fun happened afterschool. Nobody ever told her where the meetups were happening.  When it came to the division of work, the group inevitably responded: Jennifer refused to help.    Some of the teachers would try to elicit a defense from Sunshine, but she remained silent.   I guess she never got over the fear instilled in her in elementary school.  Supposedly, she told on some bullies for calling her “Cabbage Patch Kid” and they slammed her in the mud and kicked her bad.  Of course, there were some teachers who were just as ruthless as the students.  I heard Ms. Reardon, the sixth-grade science teacher, tell her that despite her intelligence, social problems meant that she would never succeed in life and Mr. Pearson, the seventh-grade English teacher, said someone as poor as her shouldn’t have hope. I wish I could say that I acted differently, that I tried to include her, but I didn’t. By the time we reached high school, the group project grades had dropped her out of my academic circle.   However, the continued bullying kept Sunshine burning bright in my orbit.

Jennifer’s grace was an example to us all.

The whole cheerleading squad threw me a welcome party the day before my freshman year began.  They even brought me the cutest outfit and a junior offered me a ride. At 7: 15 a.m., she pulled into the driveway in her clunker.   Fifteen minutes later we screeched into the parking lot, just as the buses were pulling in.  The unmistakable sound filled my ears.  “You Are My Sunshine.”   Mud balls flew knocking Jennifer from the stairs of the bus onto the concrete.   She pulled herself up dredging her splattered sunshine jumpsuit with her.  As she stepped through the entrance doors, Sunshine disappeared from my mind again.

Though she wasn’t one of the more outgoing students, she was beloved by everyone.

That first year our paths didn’t cross much as our classes were clearly different now and extra-curricular activities weren’t her thing.  At times, I would hear calls of “fatso”, “creepy”, and “not so little Orphan Annie” coming from the halls, and witness Sunshine being thrown into lockers.  At lunch she sat alone, while some kids threw food at her and most...okay, all…of us just sneered.   Gossip went around that her grandmother, her sole living relative, got cancer and the water in her house was turned off.      Her hygiene suffered, ostracizing her even more.  One morning I really had to pee, so reluctantly ran to the gross bathroom on the first floor. That giant jumpsuit was in a sink with Sunshine scrubbing it with a bar of soap. Laughter exploded from me.  She just stood there scrubbing…I am sorry I did that now.

I, for one, enjoyed Jennifer’s contributions in the classroom.

A language class was required for all students and, unfortunately, I lacked any skills in this area, so this meant mixing with all the other sophomores. As I walked into class, I noticed the name cards carefully placed on the desks. Señora Amelia Brantley.  Cute.  Assigned Seating.  I scanned the desks.  Señora Jennifer Halloway right next to Señor Harry Hankel, the quarterback, who later became captain of the football team, a notorious bully. Everyone thought Harry would make it to the NFL someday bringing fame, and money, to our school. Thus, his pranks were largely ignored, especially by the popular teachers, like Ms. Garcia. Throughout the semester, every time Ms. Garcia turned her back, he would take hold of Sunshine’s desk and throw it into the wall leaving her reeling. Ms. Garcia refused to discipline Harry, instead admonishing Sunshine for moving her seat.  The worst day came on Cinco De Mayo.   There was a buffet of Mexican delights contributed by the students and Ms. Garcia.  A decorated piñata hung from the ceiling.  At the end of class, Ms. Garcia had us start a Conga line.   When Sunshine tried to join in, no one would touch her back.  They called her a dirty pig and made oinking sounds. Rather than discipline the class, Ms. Garcia simply broke up the line and we went back to the Cinco De Mayo feast. Sunshine went to the back corner of the room, sat down on the floor, and for the first time ever, I saw her cry.   That was the beginning of the end, even though I neither knew nor took any steps to stop it.

She was the picture-perfect student.

To be honest, SAT’s, college applications, and maintaining my 4.0 kept me too busy after that to think much about Sunshine.  I jumped on the chance to assist with developing the year-book pictures, not only since it would add another line to my Ivy League applications, but also because I loved watching the blobs slowly transform into images of happy people.  Cheerleaders forming pyramids.  Football players making touchdowns.  Even Susie’s mug, now a beautiful young lady, smiling at the Junior Fall Dance.    After school one day, I stirred the solution as the last picture appeared.  My arm grew limp as the picture came in focus. Sunshine was sitting in the corner of the gym at a pep-rally, all alone, grasping her knees.  She looked so miserable, like a puppy that had been hit too many times.   Gently, I moved the image towards the trash when the Senior Editor came in and stopped me, laughing and pronouncing that this would be a highlight. I didn’t say anything.   The centerfold of the yearbook was Sunshine’s picture with the caption, “You are the light of our school.”

As we are here to celebrate our own accomplishments, I know the Senior Class wishes they could throw Jennifer a ceremony that could honor her alone.

Unlike my freshman year, I walked through the school doors on the first day of my senior year with confidence and pride; head of the cheerleading squad, member of the student council, editor of the yearbook and a shoo-in for valedictorian.   Frankly, this was just a distraction from the wait on the responses of the Ivy League schools. December was the traditional month that early applicants received an acceptance…or rejection. August. September, November, were all a blur.

December 12th, I arrived home and opened my inbox:

NEW MAIL

HARVARD:   APPLICATION STATUS

SUSIE:    SPECIAL CEREMONY FOR SUNSHINE, DAWN

Clicking the attachment of the first message, my hands shook uncomfortably. The Harvard Crest sat cleanly at the top of the letterhead.  My eyes scanned the document.

“Congratulations.  You have been accepted into the incoming Class of the Fall Semester of 2008.”

The next few hours were a haze.  Screams and tears.  My mother hugging me.   Calling Susie.  It all seems like a huge mess of emotions now.   Later that night, Susie called to remind me that she was picking me up at 6:00 a.m. for the ceremony.  The excitement of the day had overwhelmed me.  I assumed it was another award for one of the teachers.  The second e-mail remained on my computer unopened as I dreamed of Harvard crimson sweatshirts.

The alarm rang all too soon, I threw on a hoodie and my Northface winter jacket and lumbered down to Susie’s car.  The window made a perfectly good pillow and blocked out most of her jabbering. Later, I learned that Susie was explaining that Sunshine’s grandmother had been missing for a few days.  One of the idiots from the football team called Sunshine impersonating the police luring her to the flagpole in front of the school, our destination, with a promise of information regarding her grandmother.  If I had only listened to Susie.  Or opened the e-mail.  Or done…anything.  

Susie screeched to a stop a few blocks from the school where several other cars loaded with seniors had assembled.  I struggled from the car, joining a group of twenty-five in a steady creep.  As we came over the hill, I could see Sunshine standing beside the flagpole in her old, scantly patched coat, shivering in the cold.  She kicked the snow around her, weakly mouthing, “where are you Grandma.”  The group pounced on her. Harry Hankel seized her by the arms forcing her to face the flagpole.  From under the snow, two other blindsiders began to pull ropes causing a pair of bloomers and a bra to ascend. The sunshine patches left no doubt of the owner, though I had no idea where the mob had obtained her private items.  The group broke out into a chorus of “You are My Sunshine” as they blasted her with ice balls, several striking her square in her mouth causing teeth to be knocked fully out.   Seconds seemed liked hours until someone opened the front doors of the school.   Everyone scattered.   I stood there for a second watching Sunshine lie there on the ground.  Blood dripped from her mouth staining the snow. Susie pulled me by the arm, and I turned away.  This would be my last view of Sunshine.

I wish I had a chance to know her more personally.

The incident occurred one week before the holiday break.  Sunshine didn’t make an appearance in school that week.     Holiday cheer soon made me forget the horrible event as my family overwhelmed me with gifts of Harvard paraphernalia: sweatshirts, mugs, anything you could imagine.   When I finally stepped back on the grounds of the school, I shivered. My eyes turned up to the flagpole resting on a shadowy image of one of Sunshine’s patches waving.    Susie dismissed it as an illusion due to stress.  Only a few hours into class, the principal called us all for an assembly in the auditorium.   Despite my heavy sweater, I hugged myself tightly trying to keep warm.  Mr. Lumbre, our principal, stepped on the stage, but I could barely see him despite all the theater lights.  A shadow seemed to be engulfing him.  

“Jennifer Halloway took her own life on New Year’s Day.  She is survived by her grandmother.  Funeral arrangements will be announced.  Grief counselors will be made available in the main office.  School is dismissed for the day to allow time for mourning and processing.”

The senior class sat still. I don’t know what they were feeling, all I know is no one said a word.

We really didn’t have the opportunity to say a proper good-bye.  However, even after she was gone, Jennifer still seemed to be with us somehow.

No sunshine came through the clouds the day they put her in the ground.  Only her grandmother and the church pastor watched as the casket descended into the earth.  I sat in Susie’s car staring.  I read in the newspaper that Sunshine had shot herself with her grandfather’s old gun. Her grandmother, finally recovering from a bout of dementia, returned to find her in the garage a few days later. Some of the other seniors said they were going to come to the funeral.  Susie backed out but let me take the car.   Only the hearse and the pastor’s beat up Chevy kept me company in the cemetery parking lot.  I couldn’t bring myself to get out and drove away in perceived silence, though I thought I heard the faint sound of Nat King Cole’s “When Shadow’s Fall.”

The grief counselors only stayed a few days as no one sought their services. Sunshine never left.   No matter how hard I tried to avoid it, every morning the sunshine shadow enveloped me as I crossed under the flagpole.  As the temperatures rose outside the school, they fell within.  The furnace was replaced, but the temperature didn’t rise a degree. They tore apart the ductwork, vents, and changed all the thermostats.   Nothing worked.   Soon things…well…they started getting scary. Senior girls were randomly being thrown into lockers.  Books flew from students’ arms.  The darkness and “When Shadow’s Fall” were everywhere. Most of the students, and staff, for that matter, were unfamiliar with the song.  My grandmother adored Nat King Cole.   Though I used to love hearing that smooth baritone, I shivered as it creeped from every Ipod, car stereo, and even the PA system.  No other music has been heard in the school since Sunshine’s death.  

I walked into a biology class one day on a mission to deliver notices of the upcoming teacher and student council cooperative meeting.  There sat Harry Hankel snoring away as a film on protozoa projected over him. I stared at him and sighed, sick of the whole damn school. To my shock, an invisible force picked up his desk and relentlessly banged him back and forth into the wall.   I saw nothing touch him but some in the class maintain that a sunshine shaped shadow passed over the film screen before the accident.  Harry’s dreams, and the school’s dreams, were over.  The doctors were unable to repair the damage in his right leg.  He will never play football again.

We wish she could have partaken in the many happy activities of Senior year that are captured forever in our memories.

The final grade announcements confirmed my valedictorian status.  I wanted to drop it all and drive off to Massachusetts, never to look back.  However, the yearbook distribution had to be done.  On the penultimate day of school for the seniors, I walked into the student council office and watched my junior editor sliding receipts into each book. She abruptly stopped, something seeming to catch her eye.  Flipping open the book, she let out a shriek and bolted from the office.  Drifting over to her workplace, the pages of the yearbook flipped back in the constant cool breeze that pervaded the office. I covered my mouth in horror, looking down at the faces, or lack of faces, of the senior class.  Susie should have been smiling back at me.  Instead, there was a black spot in the shape of a sunshine. Book after book, page after page, the same.  Black blotches smeared out any faces of seniors.  Slumping down in a chair, I began to cry.  I wasn’t sure then, or even now, who or what I was crying about. Was it for our lost happy year? Was it for the loss of my hard work? Or was it finally for Sunshine?

We are all sorry for the tragedy that befell Jennifer.  I can only hope that Sunshine can find the peace she was seeking.  Goodbye Jennifer.  

There will be no yearbooks to sign this year.  Mr. Lumbre cancelled the prom.  No one objected.  Soon there will be parents wishing many of us well as we head off to our respective colleges and universities.   The question is will Sunshine be with us?  Will she stay at the school?  I don’t know the answer to that.   I do know that she is here now as I type these words, shivering, in the dark, a sunshine shaped shadow looming over me.

I…am…. sorry….

[horrorslashergirl]

1927 Love that bleeds

A Dave Anthony Fanfic.

Authors Note: We take it a little back in time to see who really Dave was and what he become. I am trying to work on his past and character development.

Live is always hard and even more so when you have to survive into a world where the rich are playing the strings and the poor are scrambling for a penny to buy a piece of bread for their children to eat.

Humans were despicable, that was Dave's view on the people that he passed on the street on his way home from work. He worked at a factory that made furniture and today he didn't get the money. Why? His temper got the best of him and he punched a co-worker for bumping into him.

Going home without money wasn't a good thing and as he entered the decent house, the woman known as his wife waited for him with her arms crossed over her chest, tapping her foot impatiently.

"So? Where's the money?" she asked, her long brown hair framing her face beautifully so, bright brown eyes showing one of the deadly sins, the greed.

"No, but I am gonna get it. Don't worry." Dave told her, passing her to get to the kitchen, taking a glass of water.

Footsteps approached him and he knew what was gonna happen. He felt her punch him in the back, her tiny fists not even creating a slight amount of pain. Normally, if there was anybody else he would have thrown them across the room, but she was his wife.

"Elizabeth. I am not in the mood." Dave told her, swallowing down the tension.

"You are never in the mood for anything! No money, no respect, everyone views us as garbage. Fuck you! You are nothing." she grumbled and walked out of the kitchen and upstairs.

Daves fists balled up and he walked out of the house, not able to stay even a second in this hellhole.

His steps took him to the local bar where some of his so-called friends were, drinking some alcohol and sharing stories of good ol' days

"Dave! It's so good to see you. How's work?" Harold, one of the co-workers at the factory asked, offering him a seat and a glass of whiskey.

"I don't have money. I don't drink." Dave told Harold who rolled his eyes and insisted, handing him the glass of expensive alcohol.

"So, I'm guessing you still have problems with money, huh? I understand that besides working at the factory I still do part-time jobs to sustain my family. Raising two kids is never easy." Harold told Dave, lightning a cigarette and handing the light-haired guy one, which he accepted.

"Don't tell me." Dave grumbled, blowing a 'o' of smoke as he looked outside at the window, seeing people pass by.

"Riiight....So you and Elizabeth started to work on making babies?" Harold asked with a smirk.

Dave snorted at the question, taking a sip of whiskey. Elizabeth wasn't the type for creating a family. She was a beauty, he had to admit and everyone thought so, but wife-material she was not, well in the past two years since they got married she changed and not for the good.

"Not really." Dave whispered and Harold patted his broad shoulder, trying to comfort his friend. From all the people Harold was probably the only one with a straight spine and spoke in a headstrong way.

"You know, my father used to say that having a beautiful wife is amazing until they get old and all beauty fads away, leaving just an empty carcass of maggots. Figuratively of course, but you get my point." the older male told him and took a sip of his own drink, both males looking at the young girls that were at the bar, flirting and trying to get a bag of money in form of a rich male.

"Your father was a wise man." Dave spoke, scowling at the image of his wife.

He loved her, but after so many years all the love that was at the beginning faded into dust, leaving only frustrations and arguments that didn't go anywhere to a clarified point.

He sometimes wished he could just beat her brains in and out, not with words, but with something hard and strong, like a hammer perhaps. At first, Dave ignored such morbid thoughts, telling himself it was the rage that gave him such toxic scenarios, but as time passed he realized that he actually enjoyed what his imagination created.

Both men continued to drink and talk, about life, work and other problems, until it almost got to midnight and the bar closed.

"See you tomorrow at work?" Harold asked, adjusting his coat.

Dave gave him a nod and they waved goodbye at each other, going on their way home. The younger male wondered as he walked home how life would have been if he would have got a more brain-filled woman, someone who actually knew what she wanted from life, and not the dirty money.

A family.

Dave was in his middle 30's and he knew he wasn't getting any younger, his wife being 31 made things even harder, because she wasn't looking forward to being a mother.

As he got home, he noticed the lights were out, alas he entered the house which was deadly silent, leave for some sounds upstairs in their shared bedroom. You didn't have to be a genius to know what was going on. Normally, anyone would have barged in and probably beat the shit out of the man who was fucking his wife, but Dave didn't do so.

'Do I actually love her?' he asked himself, sitting down on the old couch and waiting for them to finish and come down.

After 30 minutes, the man was the first to come down, seeing Dave, his eyes widened, but he didn't say anything, just getting his coat on and exiting the house.

After 5 minutes, Elizabeth came down and her eyes fixed on her husband who gave her an empty stare.

"You're home. Where were you?" she asked in a snarky tone, crossing her arms.

"Out with the guys." he simply responded.

"Yeah, right. More like going between prostitutes' legs. That's where my money is going." she said and rolled her eyes.

"You're sleeping on the couch tonight." she told him one last time before going back upstairs, slamming the bedroom door shut.

That's new, accusing someone of cheating when you're the one that did so just a few minutes ago. What a hypocrite.

What Dave felt now was anger, not just a simple fury, but pure on wrath, he felt like getting his hands on something and choking the life out of it. His grey eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep.

His wife was driving him nuts and before he realized it, he left his home in the middle of the night, going down the streets, trying to get some fresh air and calming himself down.

The streets at night were only filled with bad people, the ones doing dirty business and such. He never paid them too much thought, until a feminine voice pulled him out of his train of thoughts. It was a young woman, probably in her middle 20's with red hair and a blue dress.

A prostitute.

"Hey there, stud. Looking for a good time?" she asked in a seductive voice, giving him a cheeky smile.

He was right and on an everyday basis, he would have told her to fuck off, but he found himself smirking and stopping in front of her.

"Lead the way." he whispered to her and she grinned, taking his hand and moving into an alleyway.

Times were hard and affording a hotel room wasn't an option, so people had to stick with cheap options.

The girl pushed him against a wall and began to run her hands down his chest, her red lips looking inviting, but more so was her neck.

"So? What can I do for you tonight? A blowjob or maybe we can go all the way up with some doggy time?" she asked, ready to kiss him.

It all happened in a flash on a second, their roles switching as he held her now against the wall, only for his hands to wrap around her neck, so tightly she began to choke, her green eyes looking up at him with fear, her tiny hands trying to grab him, but it was in vain.

Slowly, her eyes drained of any life and she laid limp in his arms, dead. Grey eyes looked at her face, Dave's breath was deep and in the past, he would have panicked, but now he felt a rush of excitement run in his veins.

He killed someone, he actually did it, he wasn't hallucinating and he enjoyed it, a lot. Letting the body hit the floor he looked left and right, making sure none saw.

After checking it so, he left the alleyway and walked home, all the rage is gone and he never felt more at peace.

[bates--boy]

Peter was just about done with work that day, cleaning the bottles for the infant animals when his phone buzzed in his pockets. He shut the sink off, yanked off the wet rubber gloves, and pulled his device out of his pocket. “Oh!” he chirped, seeing the name of the sender.

         [Naseem] Yo, Pete, it’s Naz. Was wondering if you have plans for lunch today? 

         [Naseem] I wanted us to do some extra rap practice and maybe go over the lines between Troy and Stefan before our big night

          Peter turned to sit back against the lip of the sink, hugging one of his arms across his torso as he typed. 

          [Peter] i have a half-day today so i’m free once i clock out at twelve.

          [Peter] i’d be happy to buy you lunch if you haven’t eaten yet. i know a great place to get a bite to eat.

          [Naseem] Bet. My break’s half past noon. See you at your work?

         [Peter] fine by me! see ya!

          Smiling at the screen before shoving his phone into his pocket, Peter finished cleaning the rest of the bottles, went to the changing area to wiggle out of the waterproof overalls, and then to the employee area to punch out at the time clock and fetch his hoodie and his copy of the stage play from his locker. He looked down at the practically beaten-up book, some pages curled in, corners folded, colorful tabs poking out of the pages: pink for Josef’s spoken lines, blue for Troy’s; green for Josef’s songs, yellow for Troy’s. Slightly crinkled from the times Peter shoved it into his bag to carry at all times, or when he had his quick bursts of sleep while reading over the thing.

          With a quick cleaning at the employee basin, Peter made a brisk walk back to the grounds, heading to the entrance area. He sent a quick message of his location and waited with the play lying open, quietly murmuring Josef’s verses. Soon, the familiar deep blue XC60 rolled onto the lot, with the Nigerian, Palestinian, and Swedish flags painted across the back. Naseem climbed out and waved as he strolled over, a leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder and his copy of the play rolled in his hand. When he drew close enough, Naseem said, “Wow, it’s been a while since I last came here.”

           “Ah, so you probably don’t know about the new aerial arts performance they have here,” Peter grinned as they walked back to the conservatory grounds together. 

         Naseem shrugged. “I have. And I’ve been meaning to come check it out, but, you know. Schedule..”

          “Well, the next time you’re free, come on over! I can even sneak you in for a show!” Peter nudged his shoulder against Naseem.

           “How are you gonna--” Naseem stopped once he saw the coy grin on Peter’s face. “Lemme guess: you’re the star?”

          “One of them.” Peter bobbed his shoulder and looked away in faux modesty. He giggled and patted Naseem’s arm. “Come on, I know a great picnic area we can practice in.”

          Peter and Naseem took the stroll to the benches, dodging giggling little kids darting everywhere to get to the next animal enclosure that caught their eye, and the wandering animals that escaped their habitats, mainly small bird and marsupial species. After Peter bought them both bottled smoothies at one of the snack kiosks, they settled at a table near the wooden fence post, drawing annoyed glances from passersby as they sat on the tabletop instead of the benches.

         “Which scenes do you want to practice today?” Peter asked before pulling a long draught from his bottle. “We can just do a couple so I can treat you to lunch.”

          Naseem skimmed the pages he had marked, going back and forth and shrugging. “Ones that have our characters singing so we can work these vocal cords. Let’s start with...” he consulted his shorthand notes. “Act III, scene 4. So, my character comes up to yours.”

          Naseem clambered down the picnic table, took a few steps away, and stomped back. The chills Peter felt may or may not have to do with the complete switch of energy Naseem made. Even his green eyes flared with fury.

          “Why the hell did you do that to Josef?!”

          Peter sighed as his character did, shifting on the table and leaning forward on his knees. So cool and unaffected, to the point of almost being despondent. Peter still couldn’t figure this Troy out, but he spoke his lines.

          “I didn’t do a thing to him, Stef.”

           Naseem crossed his arms and tilted his head. “Oh, really? So when he said no to that stage deal because ‘his mom’s gonna die alone in their apartment while he’s out singing for pocket change’, that wasn’t you?” Peter had to pause here, as Troy struggled to find an excuse. Naseem threw up his arms. “God, what is wrong with you?! What kind of a friend are you?!”

          “A realistic one.” Peter’s tone remained calm, stoic - a stoner too mellowed out to get worked up.

          Naseem rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. Realistic. Jo finally had what he needed right in his lap, and you couldn’t even be supportive of him because you’re realistic. That’s bull crap, even for you.”

          “You can say whatever you want about me, Stef, but of all these people feeding him these wild dreams --” Peter swept his hand about, gesturing to a figurative crowd while a few eyes turned their way. He pointed to his own chest. “--I’m the only one looking out for him.”

           “No, looking out for him would be helping him with this. He has a chance to get a better life, but you don't want that for him!"

          "I don't--?!" Peter gave a scoffing laughing and rolled his eyes. "You're so far off, it's funny!"

           "Yeah? So all this time you kept telling him to don't do it, it's not because you know you're wasting your own life being some bum mad that you lost your trust fund and you're angry that Josef can make it?"

          "No!" Peter's voice started to boil, Troy's cool, arrogant façade starting to crack and chip. His free hand curled into a shaking fist.

          "Then why? Why are you being such a shitty friend?!"

          Out of the corner of his eye, Peter could see a uniformed figure walking up to them, parents trying to distract their kids from the argument.

          "Because this would break him just like it almost did me!"

          In a blink of an eye, and a sudden flush of heat on his cheeks, Peter was on his feet, too, feeling Troy's despair as he and Naseem were practically nose to nose. For all the anger, the anguish, and the overprotective adrenaline Troy was supposed to feel at that moment, Peter channeled the underlying heartache and exhaustion; he sounded tired.

          "Like it did my sister."

          "Er, excuse me," the uniformed man said when he came close enough, a hand reaching out to them. "Is there a prob--"

          Naseem stared at Peter for a breath. "Your sister?"

          Peter gave a soft, sad laugh. "Oh, that's right, I never told you about Anna, did I?" He silently filled his lungs with air.

You don't know the story of a boy and a girl Mommy pleasers destined to dominate the world

           The worker looked between the two men, casting an especially long glance at the singing one. "...What?"

Born to hold the dreams that Mommy tucked away Cause she got bare footed and pregnant Waiting on her someday

          The worker furrowed his brows. “What is--” he spotted the open scripts in their hands and lowered his own hand. “Oh... okay...”

         Peter felt a tickle of a grin almost appearing on his lips, amusement almost breaking his character. Almost.

Commercial deals, toddlers on every single ad Barely out of diapers, and we’re out there selling fads Taught to walk so we could tap dance and do a twirl And hold our hands out for all the gold, silver, and pearls

Yanked outta school when the lime lights calling us Daddy got you a gig, so you better not fucking fuss! Tuck in your gut, tilt up your chin, chest out and sing You’re gonna make it worth taking this diamond ring

What you do with heavy makeup and cameras flashing? Swallow cotton and pinch our cheeks red to stay dashing Seeing enemies in friends looking for a ladder to climb Trying to bring you to ruin when they find the right time To strike, like vipers on the hunt for your big juicy kill And the only way to stop the cracks is a tiny yellow pill

A tiny yellow pill A tiny yellow pill A handful of tiny yellow pills Until her heart went still

          Naseem slowly started to unfold his arms, his character Stefan hit with a world-shattering realization. “Oh...”

          Peter turned his face away. “Yeah...”

         Naseem shook his head and sighed. “Man, I’m... I’m sorry. But, see, here’s the thing...”

 I had never known you were crushed this hard Ruled by your fears, beaten, tattered, and battle scarred Now that I think it, so much shit start to make sense Is this why a little stage work gets you so incensed?

I hate that for you, all this pain you’ve been burdened Chasing a high and identity that doesn’t leave you hurtin’ But it’s unfair how you hurt Josef with your sister’s ghost Breaking a dream for someone else’s overdose

What does it do for the person on the other spectrum Piss poor, tryna get meds for his ailing, dying mum When even his close friend is robbing him of a dream Cuz he can’t stop himself from falling apart at the seam? Still blinded by phantom lights, suffocating at the gills? What about Josef’s mum little pills?

Her little pills Her life saving pills If she don’t get hers, then her heart will stand still.

          This was the part where Peter is stunned into silence, indignant, hurt, scrambling for more excuses, still trying to cling to the death of his sister -- the crux of Troy’s listlessness and indifference. But then a loud cry rang out around them.

          The crowd of mere picnickers grew during their rehearsal, it seemed, now cheering and clapping and whistling, someone even going “You tell him, baby!”

          Stuttering, Peter looked towards Naseem and exchanged smiles with him. They stood closer together, held hands, and took a bow.

          “Thank you, thank you!” Peter called out, waving to the cell phones held out. “If you want more, purchase tickets for Inner City Lights before they sell out!”

          “Written and produced by Gunnar Didig!” Naseem added, calling out the website to purchase over the hooting and whistling.