#aLSO i went to costco for the first time

[a-passing-storm]

I have forgotten that it is actually kind of Therapy Homework for me to post things online!

[krenenbaker]

Hiya Kren! (≡^∇^≡)

How are you? How has your day been?

Hiya! (*^ω^)ﾉ

I'm doing pretty well! And the day's been alright. Just did a bit of cleaning and started prepping for Thanksgiving (my family's doing dinner tomorrow, rather than today), so that's pretty fun!

I hope your day's treated you well ^_^

[arlathen]

do you guys ever read like an article or see a post from late feb/very early march 2020. and feel a weird melancholy. like hey man the world's about to change irrevocably and you don't even know it yet.

[kissami]

UN ÁNGEL- Cloud strife Headcanons

sum. Need boyfriend headcanons for cloud? SAY LESS.

warning: modern cloud, oc cloud srry I love him soft, might be a little self insert because of the stuff I like but that’s all

femreader! with she/her pronouns

song of the day: igual que un ángel - Kali uchis

boyfriend Cloud who knows your order by heart at your guys’ favorite coffee shop and no matter how many times he does it, it never fails to make you blush and impressed.

Boyfriend Cloud who never fails to make you ticklish especially during intimate moments that you can’t help but burst out laughing.

Boyfriend Cloud who sometimes can’t handle all the attention and affection so he distances himself but can’t help but miss you even more.

Boyfriend Cloud who loves picking you up from university on his motorcycle to show off especially knowing that Reno would be there. He is still very bitter that Reno was your first kiss in fifth grade and not him because he was too busy helping collect Tifa’s shopkins from the grass at recess.

Boyfriend Cloud who loves going to Aerith’s flower shop because he helps her make your bouquets extra pretty just for you. #bestfriendprivileges

boyfriend Cloud who has recurring nightmares of losing you to Sepiroth. No not the “I’ll steal your girl,” kind of way. More like he murders you and Aerith at the same time. Perhaps something from a past life?

Boyfriend Cloud who loves watching studio ghibli movies with you especially ponyo and spirited away. Let’s not get started on his love for Princess Mononoke.

Boyfriend Cloud who goes with you at the bookstore for now on to carry your books because he found out that a guy put his number inside of a book after catching it for you when you accidentally dropped it from your stack pile.

Boyfriend Cloud who’s COMPLETELY and UTTERLY obsessed with you. Not the annoying obsession, but the obsession that makes your tummy in knots and the cute things he loves to do for you. Whether it’s making you lunch for school/ work, leaving cute notes on your door handles, or literally dropping everything instantly for you when you call.

Boyfriend Cloud who hid in the bathroom after you guys had…yk…and too embarrassed to come out. If only he knew you were on the bed breathless and wanting more.

Boyfriend Cloud who baby trapped you. With a cat. Her names Honey and every time there’s an argument he uses her as an excuse to visit you. “We can’t let our cat have separated household problems,she needs both of her parents so please answer the door.”

Boyfriend Cloud who had no idea him getting a lip piercing would be in the way of kissing you for it to heal correctly. He ran out of the piercing shop and only agreed to come back to get a matching eyebrow piercing with you instead.

Boyfriend Cloud who not only made you a playlist, but this mf burned a cd for you, made tifa draw a one in a million piece of art for you for the cover, has a sticker of it on his car, and even bought a necklace that had the Spotify playlist code. So whenever a person flirts with him, he’ll hold it up and say, “scan this and read the description. That’ll be my answer for you.”

Boyfriend Cloud who didn’t understand why you were so obsessed with kpop, especially BTS. Him and jungkook have beef apparently. He also buys you albums all the time and even sacrifices himself to let you use his phone to make sure you guys get tickets to concerts.

Boyfriend Cloud who WILL call your work to call off. He doesn’t care, cuddles are more important.

Boyfriend Cloud who forces you to drink water whenever you hang. You always complain about headaches and he makes sure when you’re with him you’re hydrated.

Boyfriend Cloud who is addicted to Dr.Pepper. You gave him some when you two went to watch Barbie in the summer and it’s his holy grail. “We need to head to Costco, I ran out of my pepper.”

[anticanonsposts]

Hii

I have an idea and it's kind of silly but I'll ask anyway because I love your writing

But you could do a Konig domestic where he passes out for some reason (not a battle wound or anything) and reader take care of him and then he's SO clingy afterwards

Tks 🤍

omg tysm!!! also i appreciate the requests so please keep making them!!! (i live off of the validation i get on here)

also i have some more stuff in the drafts that i wanna write, and i love the trend thats been going around about nerd!konig and i rly want to contribute so stay tuned!!!

cw: none

König had such a big day. His girlfriend y/n had been working tirelessly for the past couple weeks at her new job. She was definitely more stressed out than normal and König felt so bad. So he decided to run multiple errands that day (Friday) before she got home for the weekend. First he went grocery shopping, a smaller store and Costco to get some essentials. Then he came home and cleaned their apartment from top to bottom, because he knew it wasn’t her favorite and it would be so nice for her to come home after a long week. When he was at the store he also made sure to pick up her favorite snacks, drinks, and ingredients for dinner. By the time he was all done he fell onto the couch exhausted. Flicking his wrist up he saw that it was 4:30 which meant that in a couple hours y/n would be home. He felt pretty satisfied with himself, but also very tired. As he was thinking about getting up to shower and wait for her to get home, the grips of sleep clasped over his eyes and he fell asleep :/.

Some time later, y/n opens the front door to her and König’s shared apartment and walks in, ready to just relax this weekend. Immediately she notices how clean everything is. After putting her bag down she goes over to the refrigerator, knowing there wouldn't be much in it since they needed to go grocery shopping. To her lovely surprise whens he swung open the door she saw all of her favorites. This makes her connect the dots in her mind, König must have done all of this while she was at work today, how sweet. 

“He’ll be getting something nice later” she mutters to herself, smiling as she walks away toward the bedroom. But she quickly stops when she looks over to see Konig, absolutely passed out on the couch. 

Carefully pitter pattering over to him, she pauses and lovingly gazes down at him. His mouth slightly agape, a small snore coming from him. Although he looks precious sleeping on the couch, she knew that if he stayed like that, he would wake up with the worst back pain ever. So gently she started to sit him up, and led him half asleep to their bedroom. König would have absolutely no recollection of this when he woke up, thinking he had either moved himself to the bed or that he had fallen asleep on the bed by accident. 

Once in bed, y/n gently arranged pillows and squishmallows (shameless self insert <3) around König’s body to make him as cozy as possible. Once satisfied she started to strip so that she could go shower. 

About ten minutes later, König gently woke up to a slight steam in the room, and the smell of strawberry and rose from y/n’s soaps. He stirred more, bringing his hands to his eyes to rub them awake. Then, with a sudden jolt, he sat up, feeling panicked. 

How could he let himself fall asleep?? He was supposed to finish setting up the perfect, relaxing evening for y/n. But no, his sleepy ass just had to ‘rest his eyes’ for a second.

But before his thoughts could spiral too much, he hears the shower being turned off. So, quietly he meanders to the bathroom door, slipping off his shirt, hoping to join her in the shower. Giving the door a few soft taps so as not to spook y/n. He’s met with the door swinging open and a beaming (naked) y/n, her body freshly moisturized, hair tied up since she washed it the day before, and in the middle of her skin care routine. 

“Hey baby! I noticed everything in the kitchen, and I really appreciate it.” she says, eyes shining with nothing but love. It is returned by König’s eyes, practically with hearts in them. Nothing made him happier than doing things for her, other than being with her. 

Wordlessly, he steps closer to her, pulling her body close to him by the small of her back and shoulder. He knows from past experience to not touch her face while she is doing her skin care, (he has been reprimanded before). Bending over slightly, he presses his lips to hers taking a breath in as he does so. Pulling away, he sits himself on the closed lid of their toilet that of course has a fuzzy pink cover on it. 

Now taking a moment to scan his eyes over her body. Not quite in a hungry way, but more so admirable. Taking a few moments to appreciate every plush curve, every supple, plump part of her body. She was too perfect, she looked like a renaissance painting, something that an artist created when they were tasked with painting beauty itself. 

Broken out of his haze, y/n says, “Can I do your skincare?” 

“Yes of course.” he responds, giddy inside. Whenever she offered to use her products on him, he was always super happy. It meant that she would be looking at his face, and giving him small, gentle touches. He had never been with someone like this. His past was mostly hook ups, a couple ‘relationships’ here and there but nothing this intimate. Having someone’s gentle hands glide over your face over and over again as truly more intimate and sensual than any sex he had ever had. Now, he had no idea what products she was using on him, she could be painting his face purple for all he knew, if it weren’t for the mirror. But this was part of the trust he liked about this activity. Knowing that she was sharing her products that she spent her money on, that were clearly good enough for her beautiful skin, and she was sharing them for his scarred, damaged skin. 

Once she started putting eye cream on him, König took his large arms and wrapped them around her body, pressing his bare chest to her naked body. Minutes passed as she finished the routine, and all König could focus on were how pretty her eyes looked when she focused on something. As well as how their bodies moved opposite each other with their breaths. 

Y/n, smoothing out the last moisturizer onto her boyfriend’s face, letting each of her hands rest on either side of his face, palms pressed against his cheeks, fingertips gently clasping onto his face. His face has its share of scares, but is warmer and plumper now that he has been out of the military for a while. She appreciates everything about this man, his tenderness, his patience, and of course how obsessed with her he is. Then breaking her own rules after skin care, she starts pressing soft kisses along his cheeks and jaw, then resting her forehead against his when she was done. 

This man’s eyes welled up with tears. He loved how soft she was with him, how kindly she treated him. His mind started to wonder as he started giving her small half blinks, completely enamored with his girlfriend. 

“König?” y/n says softly, it was about the third time she called his name. Bringing him out of his stupor. “I’m gonna fix my hair really quick then we can cuddle ok?” she says raising her eye brows slightly. Earning a small nod from König, she figured he would leave and go wait for her on their bed. But instead, he slightly loosens his grip and allows her to stand up. Facing the mirror again, y/n starts to fix her hair from the various clips she used to clip up her curls for her shower. König, still in the bathroom, chose to stand right behind y/n. Completely behind her, pressing his front against her back, bracing his arms on either side of her body. 

He can be pretty clingy sometimes, but this was surprising, even for him. Nonetheless, y/n doesn’t mind and finishes with her hair before turning her body. Signaling to König that she was leaving. He holds onto her left hand as she basically leads him to the bed. Quickly breaking from his grasp, she goes to her closet and puts on one of König’s shirts, and a pair of undies before climbing onto the bed and pulling König along with her. 

He grabs the tv remote and switches it on, telling her to put on whatever she wants. Then he settles himself in between her legs, now that she’s lying on her back. And nuzzles his face into her chest, wrapping his big ass arms around her middle and sighs contently. She reciprocates by running her fingers through his hair which just brings him past cloud nine. 

Y/n switches on some tv show that she has been binging recently and König soon falls asleep against her chest, feeling completely at peace. 

notes:

I know this isn’t exactly what the prompt says?? I rly just wanted to write sm where König does a bunch of little things for the reader 

[sixlane]

so sweet

Bartylily microfic | 1.4k words | NSFW

for india @certifiedl0verboy because they said the world needed barty and lily getting high and sharing a costco cheesecake, and also han @honeybcj because the image of barty and lily shotgunning hasn't left my head in days <33

Lily opens her fridge and stares. The cool air and soft light leaks out into the empty kitchen as she contemplates how she became this person. The type who, completely unprompted and for no good reason, buys a whole Costco cheesecake for herself. 

The soft, round monstrosity sits on the bottom shelf of her fridge, taking up so much space she was forced to shove her yogurt into the vegetable drawer. The thing stares back at her, mocking, taunting, begging to be left to mold when she inevitably fails to eat it all. 

The sound of a key in the door snaps her out of the silent stand off.

Fuck, Barty’s home.

She can already imagine his confused smile and snarky comments when he opens the fridge for his nightly Red Bull just to come face to face with Lily’s unexplainable decision. It’s not like they’ve been roommates for long, or friends for that matter. They keep it cordial, stay out of each other's way, smoke the occasional bowl and watch old seasons of America’s Next Top Model, but this seems a little too close to soul-baring for comfort. 

Lily sits down at the table with a glass of water, tries to act casual, tries not to look at the fridge. 

“Hey,” Barty says, dropping his keys on the counter.

Lily nods her head, taking a sip from her glass. For a minute she thinks she’s in the clear because he’s already started to leave the room, but he doubles back at the last minute, realizing he’s forgotten something. 

He pulls the fridge open, reaches down, and stops, just for a second, before grabbing his energy drink and letting the door fall shut. 

Lily pretends she hasn’t been watching him this whole time.

He pops the top on his can, takes a sip and gives Lily a once over. “You having a party or something?”

“Will you leave me alone if I say yes?” Lily deadpans, though she can feel her face heating up. 

“Nope. Then I’d probably have to ask why I wasn’t invited.” He walks over to lean against the island, just a few feet between them, and looks down at her. He takes another sip.

“Ok look I needed more laundry detergent so I went to Costco and obviously I had to look in the bakery section and it was just sitting there. So. I bought it.” Barty’s smile widens as she explains until he’s just grinning at her. “What?” she asks, defensive.

“So you just bought the whole thing for yourself?” He says it curiously. He’s not judging, but she can hear the ulterior motive in his tone. 

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Spit it out.”

Barty huffs a laugh. “One second.” He sets his drink down and heads toward his room, leaving Lily to wonder what his plans are. She can never quite read him. He likes to play up this persona of his, effortlessly carefree and nonchalant, but she has always sensed something just below the surface. She notices it in the way he remembers her work schedule, the way he seems to have eyes in the back of his head. 

When Barty comes back, he’s got a bag of weed in one hand and his grinder and bowl in the other. He holds them up, mouth quirked in a dangerous way, waiting for her response.

Lily reflects the smile back at him. “I like the way you think, Crouch.”

So, Lily grabs the cheesecake, two forks, and some napkins, while Barty packs the first bowl of the night. They light up next to an open window in the living room, inhaling as the warm breeze kisses their cheeks and slides through their hair.

They wait until they’re properly high before digging in, and as Lily brings that first bite to her lips, allows it to settle on her tongue, she swears it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted. 

“Fuuuuuck,” she moans. “This was the best decision I’ve ever made.” She licks the back of the fork, wanting to savor the tangy goodness, and she doesn’t miss how Barty watches before he huffs a laugh and shifts his focus to take a bite of his own.

“God,” he says around a mouthful. “What does Costco put in this shit?” 

“It’s fucking amazing right?” 

It’s at that point that she notices a bit of cake smeared across Barty’s lower lip, so she leans over and wipes her thumb across it. It happens before she can even register she’s done it, but she fully commits, sticking her thumb in her mouth after, tasting sweet and something else.

“You use Aquaphor?” She asks.

Barty stares at her. Red eyes slightly widened. “You can identify Aquaphor by taste?”

Lily smiles with all her teeth and reaches into her back pocket to produce the tube she takes with her everywhere. 

“Put some on,” he says before picking up the bowl for another hit.

She looks at him suspiciously. “Why?”

“Just do it.” He sparks the lighter and breathes in deeply. 

She brings the tube to her lips and smears some on, watching his chest expand behind his t-shirt.

He holds the smoke in his lungs but motions for her to come closer and oh. She sees where this is going. 

The realization doesn’t stop her from leaning in anyway.

Barty’s lips ghost over hers and he breathes the smoke into her open mouth. She inhales in turn, taking the air from his lungs into her own. 

It’s intimate, she thinks, in a way that not many things are. To hold a vital piece of someone else inside yourself. To pass it back and forth with such care, not letting anything slip through the cracks. 

And that thought is what causes Lily to close the barely-there distance. To allow their lips to push together. To allow herself to fully taste the leftover sweetness and Aquaphor and Red Bull on Barty’s tongue, which he doesn’t waste a minute before sliding into her mouth.

It’s sloppy and uncoordinated where they lean over the half-eaten cheesecake between them, and Lily pulls back before her arms give out underneath her. 

They stare at each other for a moment, both smiling and laughing like idiots. 

It’s so easy between them, always has been.

“One more?” Barty asks.

“One more what?” Lily volleys back, eyebrow raised.

“Bite,” He says motioning toward the cake, sly smile across his face.

She rolls her eyes affectionately but nods, leans forward as he scoops another piece, sure to get some of the buttery crust on his fork. He holds it out for her to take but before she can, the pile of cake and graham cracker falls right onto her left tit.

Lily stares down at it, mouth agape for a second before she starts giggling again. Because it’s funny. Everything is so funny she can’t help herself.

That is until Barty’s tongue is dragging itself along the skin there, collecting the cake and making way for his teeth, which bite hard enough to leave a mark. 

He stares up at her as he does it, gauging her reaction. He gets the all clear when Lily fails to stop the needy whine that leaves her throat.

Barty trails his mouth upward, leaving open-mouth kisses along her neck until he reaches her ear.

“You taste so good,” he whispers. Voicing out loud the thoughts she’s been having all night.

Lily lets the corner of her mouth tug up. “You have no idea.”

“Fuck.” He reattaches to her neck and his hands find the button of her pants, dexterous as they undo it and work the zipper down. He reaches beneath her underwear, letting his long fingers slide through her wetness, collecting some before he brings them to his mouth, sucks sinfully and stares her down the whole time.

The haze around Lily’s thoughts sharpens to want, and Barty must see the change in her eyes because he smiles devilishly around the digits before replacing them where she needs them most. 

“So fuckin’ sweet,” he says, circling her clit lazily, not enough pressure to really get her there.

“Please…” she begs, arching into him, trying to push harder against his fingers. She’s too far gone not to act as desperate for it as she is. She wants his fingers inside of her, wants him to lick every inch of her, put his mouth in places it probably doesn’t belong.

“Shhh princess,” he coos. “Just enjoy the ride.”

Once they finish, Lily twice and Barty all over her stomach before licking her clean, Lily will realize they left the cheesecake in the living room under the open window.

Oh well, she was never really going to finish it anyway.

[inawickedlittletown]

Halloween Movie Night (BuckTommy) - one-shot

Summary: Tommy is not a fan of scary movies. Set pre-8x05 Words: 1k Read on Ao3 -

Tommy had never been a fan of scary movies. Something about jump scares and how the victims were always the stupidest people to ever exist. He just didn’t vibe with any of it, not especially the creepy kids. When Eddie suggested that they have a movie night a few days before Halloween, Tommy didn’t even think about what they might watch until he and Evan arrived at Eddie’s place, carrying the cupcakes they’d picked up on the way there. 

Although Tommy had only ever visited Eddie’s house twice before the whole debacle with Christopher, there was no denying that the house was missing something. Someone. After the failed virtual birthday, he could tell that things just hadn’t gotten better though Evan reported that Eddie had been managing to get more than a few words out of his son lately. 

Eddie’s house had lots of decorations up both outside and in. Tommy, who only ever really put a couple of pumpkins out and then tended to buy a big bag of candy at Costco to leave out on a bowl, was a little impressed. Halloween had just never been his thing. Clearly, it was definitely Eddie’s. 

“I bet you’re having fun with the haunted house thing,” Tommy said. 

Eddie smiled. “I got my costume ready and everything. It’s going to be fun.” 

“I think I need something more for my section,” Evan said. “Really give them a show.” 

Tommy’s mind went to the show that Evan had put on for him when he was trying on his costume, mostly the part where he was taking it off and keeping the mostly awful cowboy accent. Evan didn’t meet his eyes and Tommy smiled to himself. All of that was not helped by the knowledge that Evan had worked on a dude ranch at some point. There had been a few pictures and yeah, maybe Tommy had looked at them disrespectfully. Evan looked good back then, but he did look better now. More bulked up. More himself. 

“We can go to a Spirit Halloween or something,” Tommy said. 

“There is also that prop house near my place,” Evan said. “Maybe I’ll go and see what they have.” 

They settled into Eddie’s living room. Tommy found himself sitting next to Evan with Eddie taking the armchair. Evan shifted until he was leaning against Tommy and Tommy lifted his arm to lay over Evan’s shoulders, bringing him closer. 

The first few times they hung out with Eddie together, Tommy had felt awkward about getting too close to Evan. He’d been afraid of making Eddie uncomfortable by being too familiar with Evan. Evan had pushed past that by grabbing his hand or standing closer to him than was necessary. Eddie had rolled with it, though sometimes he’d looked a little amused. Occasionally, he threw things at them if they got a little too lost in each other. 

He was distracted by Evan fitting himself against him, enough that he didn’t realize what Eddie had put on until he glanced at the tv and heard the creepy laughter and saw the girl in the white nightgown. 

Tommy knew he’d had a reaction, because Evan lifted his head to look at him.

“Okay?” 

“Uh…yeah. Yeah.” 

It was really hard to watch. The music and the atmosphere that the movie set, it did the job of being creepy and scary and Tommy…Tommy was going to have nightmares where Freddy Krueger was chasing him and trying to kill him. When he jumped at a scary point in the movie, Evan lifted off him a bit so he could look at him. 

Evan somehow shifted them and suddenly it was Tommy leaning against him and Evan was wrapping his arms around him, mouth close to Tommy’s ears. 

“Not a fan of scary movies?” 

“Not at all.” 

“Never seen this one,” Evan admitted. 

“You haven’t seen most movies,” Tommy said back. 

“True.” 

“We can ask Eddie to change it to something else,” Evan mused. 

Tommy shook his head. “He looks like he’s enjoying it.” 

He did. Eddie had a bottle in one hand and he was just staring at the tv, not even reacting to any of the parts that Tommy could hardly even watch. He did have an easier time not watching with the way Evan had arranged them. 

“But if you’re—”

“I’ll be alright,” Tommy said. “Just a movie.” 

The next time Tommy gave a jolt, Evan kissed the side of his head and then his cheek. His fingers were in Tommy’s hair and Tommy closed his eyes and focused on Evan. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t too bad if this was the treatment that it garnered. 

He was glad when at the end of the night when they left Eddie’s, Evan insisted on Tommy staying over even though they hadn’t planned on it. Evan didn’t say it, but he had probably guessed that Tommy was not going to be able to fall asleep easily. 

“I just don’t get it,” Tommy said while they got ready for bed. 

“What?” 

“The whole watching something scary…the world is already such a big mess. I don’t need my escapism to be full of weird creepy guys trying to kill for the hell of it.” 

“No,” Evan said, “there is enough of that in the real world. I guess some people don’t appreciate rom coms like you do.” 

“Hey,” Tommy said. 

Evan laughed. 

“What’s so bad about wanting to watch a movie where you know everything ends well.” 

“Nothing,” Evan said. “Everyone has their own forms of escapism.” 

“I guess so. Should we be worried that was Eddie’s?” 

“It’s Halloween. Maybe he’s just going with the season.” 

“Well next year we’re watching The Nightmare Before Christmas. Or The Adams Family. Or Hocus Pocus. Or Casper. Or The Haunted Mansion.”

Evan grinned. “I’ll be sure to invite Jee-Yun. She’ll have a blast.” 

“You know what, if I do get nightmares, I’m not even going to feel guilty when I wake you.” 

Evan just drew him into a kiss. “I’ll protect you.” 

[sticky-cravings]

Conserving Energy

CW: Glorification of mobility loss and weight gain, cannabis use, unhealthy weight gain, exhibitionism

That was the strategy that led to my weight gain. Not just grazing on whatever I want whenever I want, but also keeping it all on my bed within arm's reach. The goal is to stay in bed and do nothing for as long as possible. I avoid caffeine and eat indica edibles when I first wake up to keep me hazy and glued to the bed. In between then, I shimmy out of bed and plop myself into the office chair next to my bed. I roll to my bathroom and slowly waddle to the toilet. To save calories, i roll around my apartment on an office chair and get all my essentials delivered so I don't have to leave. I grab a big tray from my kitchen and load it up with doughnuts, pastries, bacon, and cereal for my late breakfast. I grab a gallon of ice cream and some cookies before rolling back into bed.

By now, the edibles are hitting me and I'm glued to my bed. I scarf down the breakfast and lazily graze my way through the doughnuts. In the past, I would have gone off to work and burned a lot of these calories I've ingested, but now I'm encouraged to stay in and not work by my feeder. Now, with my ass idle, the weight is piling on me.

On the weekends I don't leave my bed until Sunday night when I get weighed. As of last week I'm 210lbs (5'1"). My belly wobbles whenever I walk. My tits are two sizes larger, my ass is covered in cellulite, like a spoiled blob nested in blankets, constantly smoking joints and drinking beer.

I'm still very able to walk, but my feeder insists that I use a mobility scooter or get around by driving. This and my smoking habits make me huff and puff when I do minor tasks. They hate it when I use stairs or have to walk long distances. Last time we went to Costco to buy my weekly groceries, you bought me five hot dogs and a pizza as a snack while we shopped. I balanced the pizza box on my scooter's basket while l ate the hot dogs. Other shoppers judged my gluttony but I couldn't care less.

My feeder knows deep down that I'm actually a very lazy person. I don't like to work, think, or move if I don't have to. They adore how lazy I am, how my body has become pale, plump, and weakened from a junk-ridden diet and no exercise. They love to wait on me hand and foot and make me their queen.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I know it’s too soon and it sounds like they have everything under control, but let’s say the worst happens and we suddenly have King William and Queen Catherine….

Yes, it would be sad yada yada, but how delicious to see the Harkles forced to bow/ curtsey to the new King and Queen in public. 

Markle would brave the humiliation to help her brand, but how humiliating for them to bow/ curtsey to their hated rivals. 

***

Seeing Meghan have to grovel to William and Kate would be better than a free dessert with Costco-sized portions.

The humiliation she felt at the Queen’s funeral is going to pale in comparison to the humiliation she will feel at the King’s funeral. And when you think about it, The Queen’s funeral was three times the humiliation Meghan was expecting:

1. She (and Harry) were already in the UK which meant she was on a kind of lockdown that kept her from orchestrating the usual PR shenanigans she has become accustomed to when the BRF has major ceremonial events like this. She not only had ‘the firm’ watching her, but Harry was also there with her, in the same house, and she couldn’t just send him away so she could scheme in private (as she did every other time Harry went back to London without her, and notably for Philip’s funeral).

2. This “lockdown” also meant that she couldn’t go anywhere. No traveling, no parties, no nothing because of tightened security protocols, which means she couldn’t escape any of the criticism being said about her and Harry and she also couldn’t escape any of the praise Kate was getting...whom everyone was now calling The Princess of Wales while she was just ‘Meghan.’

3. It was made very clear that she and Harry were not welcome around the family, neither the main “branch” of Charles and Waleses nor the extended family. Harry wasn’t invited on the plane with William, but Andrew was. Harry wasn’t invited to Birkhall with Charles the night The Queen died to discuss transition. Hardman’s book all but says no one talked to Harry that night at Balmoral over dinner. Harry didn’t do the “family” walkabout at Balmoral with the rest of the grandchildren. The Sussexes didn’t get their own “meet the public and view the tributes” walkabout like the rest of the titled family members (minus the Yorkies). Charles called them ‘Harry and Meghan’ (no titles) and wished them well overseas in his first speech after The Queen’s passing. Harry wasn’t part of the Accession Council. Members of the public visibly and audibly refused to give greetings to Meghan at the Windsor walkabout. Harry had his ER revoked from his military uniform the one time he did get to wear it. Meghan was rejected by Camilla, Kate, and Sophie at the funeral - look at the gulf between them after the service when they were curtsying the cortege. No one spoke to them after The Queen’s commital service when they were waiting to leave but the staff.

It’s going to be so, so much worse when Charles passes. Especially if they’re in California (like when Philip passed) and all these negotiations are happening over much longer distances with much more time zones.

(And I do think Harry has some regret over The Queen and Philip’s passing - he “wasn’t told” they were dying so he didn’t get to see them one last time, which which probably made the trauma from Diana’s passing fresh again, and that’s why we see Harry making urgent plans to see Charles. This isn’t a knock against Harry; I missed seeing my own grandfather before he passed, the only cousin/grandchild who did, and the woulda/coulda/shoulda is very real so I completely understand. I do, however, side-eye his claims that he wasn’t told, because the signs were very, very obvious in both situations.)

[imsososolesbian]

I dunno if you take requests but if you do could you write Shauna Shipman x Reader where they're going grocery shopping and reader is being childish and trying to convince Shauna to get things they don't need like candy or soda lol,, no pressure i know it's kinda strange but thanks if you do :3

Hope this is what you were looking for Anon.

Put that Back

Shauna Shipman x GN!reader

No warnings

Word Count: 1204

You and Shauna were on your weekly grocery run. It was the beginning of a new month so it meant that you would have to go to Costco. Shauna loved you, but she hated taking you to Costco. You loved Costco. It was your happy place. 

Shauna looked through her purse, pulling her costco card out. “We are in and out. We are just getting fruit and vegetables,” she looked you in the eye, and you nod. Shauna smiled softly and opened her door, “Come on then honey, lets go. I don’t want to be here long.” 

You follow Shauna from the car to the doors, inside you get a buggy. Shauna makes a beeline for the vegetable and fruit freezer. She knew you would mess around and try to put things that weren’t needed in the buggy. 

You watch as Shauna looks through different types of produce. Putting the best looking ones into the buggy, a look of concentration on her face. She would occasionally look up from putting things in the buggy and give you a smile. 

Once Shauna was happy with all the food she picked up, the two of you walked towards the registers. You stood next to her as she talked to the cashier, an arm around her waist. You were watching the person put all the fruit and vegetables into the shopping cart again. 

The walk to the car was more hectic than the time in Costco. You had to dodge people. Extreme focus on what people were doing. It was a relief when you made it to the car. You let Shauna get in the car, as you packed the produce into shopping bags and put them in the trunk. You close the trunk, and start to walk your buggy back to one of the buggy stands. You push the buggy into an open spot and turn around making your way back to the car. 

You get into the passenger side, putting some hand sanitizer on. You rub it into your hands, watching Shauna as she did something on her phone, “We are going to stop at Walmart on the way home, okay honey?” she says, looking up from her phone to you. 

“Sounds good,” you reply, pulling your seatbelt on. You lean your head on the window as she drives. 

Shauna pulls into the parking lot. She shuts the car off, “In and out. Bagels and bread are on sale.” 

You nod and get out, and walk around the car, opening Shauna’s door. “Thanks, hun,” she steps out of the car, putting her purse over her shoulder. You offer your hand to her, a smile on your face. 

Shauna always parked further from the entrance of a store. Stating she didn’t like being parked close to cars. So the two of you talked as you walked. You gently swing your arms, and Shauna kept looking over at you, a fond look on her face. 

You once more got a shopping cart, and pushed it around following Shauna. She first guided you to the bread aisle. She graded a few loafs of bread, and put them in the cart. She then looked at the bagels. It was four for five. She hummed and hawed, looking at all the different types of bagels. Finally she picked up a pack of cinnamon raisin, everything, blueberry and plain. 

“Callie texted. She wants to try this new sparkling water thing. We have to go to the drinks,” Shauna said, and you nodded, ready to pull away from the bread and walk over to the drinks. 

You were so going to try and get root beer. You had been wanting a root beer float for a long time now. You only really went grocery shopping with Shauna during the first week of the month because it was the biggest haul. You also didn’t always have the time to go shopping with her other days because of your workload. You going meant you could somewhat sway things and get what you wanted for the week.

You watch as Shauna walks away from you in the drink aisle, and you reach up, picking up a two liter bottle of root beer. You were able to sneak it into the cart before Shauna came back. Yet of course when she did come back she looked at you with a raised eyebrow, “Why is there root beer in the cart?”

You shrug, “For floats?” You ask, eyes bright as you look at Shauna and she sighs.

“Put it back. We have pop at home,” she says, and puts over to the shelf where you got it.

“Please Shauna. We could watch a movie and have root beer floats,” you plead with her, doing your best at puppy dog eyes you can. Still Shauna shakes her head, and you turn disappointed and you put it back.

You thought it was just an in and out trip, but it turned out not to be. You found yourself in the dairy aisle with Shauna. She was looking at different types of milk. Yet you couldn’t keep your eyes off of the ice cream. You turn to look at Shauna and she's still looking at milk so you walk over to the ice cream.

You get out your favourite type. You bring it over to the cart and gently place it in. You step back beside Shauna, and look at her, “Still thinking?” 

“Yes. I know Callie likes almond milk. You like chocolate. I’ll use whatever we have, so I don’t know what to even get,” Shauna looked at you, “And no I’m not taking suggestions because last time you got cashew milk and you hated it.” 

You laugh, “I thought it would taste good.”

Shauna gives you a look before she finally pulls out a jug of plain cow's milk. “Come on then,” she turned to put the milk in the cart, and spotted the ice cream, “Hey honey, why is there a thing of ice cream in here?”

“Because” 

“That’s not an answer hun,” Shauna picks up the ice cream and passes it to you, “Put it back.”

You take the ice cream from her, “Fine but I want a pack of sour candy, then” 

Turning around you walked over to the freezer and put the ice cream back.You look at all the flavours one more time. You let out a sigh and walk over to Shauna taking control of the cart again.

You had picked up different things in different ailes before you and Shauna had made it to the candy aisle and you got to pick out a thing of sour candy. You pick up your favourtie type of sour candy and turn to Shauna. “This is what I want,” you toss it into the buggy, and Shauna nods. 

The two of you check out and you bring the cart to the car, loading everything up with the stuff from Costco. You close the trunk, you put the sour candy in your pocket and you push the buggy back to its proper place. 

You sat back in the passenger seat, and by the time you were back at the house, all your candy was gone. 

[catierambles]

Alternate Instincts Ch.23

I deleted the first posting of this because I forgot Ch.22 and didn't want it to be out of order in the tag on my page. Chapter 22 has been posted btw

The move went relatively smoothly, Walter and Stephanie throwing out Frank’s old mattress and replacing it with his from the cabin. Other than that, he really didn’t have a lot of things that needed to be moved over. Sy would be living part time in Stephanie’s old apartment as it was technically his territory now, rotating spending a couple weeks there and a couple weeks in the cabin. The transition also went mostly well, the rest of the pack being understandably wary about being under the control of another male Alpha, but Mike assuaged their concerns telling them that Sy was not like Frank, not even remotely.

Sy had cleaned Frank out, taking almost all of the money in both his checking and savings. It wasn’t nearly the amount that he had originally taken from the pack, as he had blown most of it on high end electronics and other luxuries for himself, but banking information was taken down and what was left was divided up among the pack. Didn’t amount to much, in the end, but it was something and they could start to rebuild. Stephanie offered the use of her Costco membership card once they had a good buffer so they could get bulk essentials somewhere down the line.

Walter let her know that they had also “convinced” him to confess to the Council what he had been doing, and that Frank was now blacklisted from ever running a pack or owning territory. He would be set up with employment and a place to live in his hometown, his wages being garnished until the books were even, but then he was on his own. Sink or swim. Oddly enough, Stephanie and the others couldn’t bring themselves to care what ultimately became of him. Imagine that.

Stephanie lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Walter was sound asleep next to her, but she was wide awake. She could blame it on the new environment, different mattress, different sounds, but she knew it wasn't that. Everything was a little too...perfect. The guys were a little too...everything. Yes, August had his moments, but they were all a little too understanding, too supportive. It didn't feel real. It felt as if she were perpetually waiting for something to happen. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, or the sword to fall. Waiting for them to decide she wasn't what they wanted, that they were wrong about her being their Mate. They were mistaken, that this "shadow" inside her only made them think she was their Mate. Waiting for them to realize they didn't love her, not really, not truly.

Was it nice being with them? Understatement. They were incredible, even when August was being a donkey. Who would hurt her first, she wondered. August immediately came to mind, how they clashed at times when her mouth got away from her. No, not him. She’d see it coming with him. Sy? Maybe not intentionally. Mike seemed more the “hurt verbally not physically” type. Walter? He would need to be pushed. Geralt. Probably Geralt. He was too glacially calm all the time, his face nearly always an impassive mask, but he was capable of violence. He was a Tracker, he killed Ferals for a living. He’d snap, that glacial calm evaporating and then...

She sighed, running a hand over her face. She loved them, and they loved her, or so they said, but Jordan told her he loved her and that didn’t stop him.

But he’s a Feral. Said the voice of reason, but it was being drowned out by the voice telling her to run before they hurt her.

Walter turned over to face her, pulling her into his arms sleepily and burying his face in her neck.

“Love you.” He said and she felt like crying. Tears actually did sting her eyes, but she blinked rapidly to clear them. He must have felt something in the way she clung to him because his eyes opened, focusing on her in concern. “Love?”

“Please don’t be like him.” She nearly begged it and she watched his heart break just a little bit.

“Never.” He said, his hand coming up to hold the side of her jaw as he leaned in to kiss her. "Not ever." He pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes closed tight as she sobbed quietly.

Walter left her sleeping the next morning, easing the bedroom door closed as he dug his phone out of his sleep pants pocket, heading into the kitchen as he selected a contact.

“Yeah Walt.” Sy said when he picked up.

“Are the others there?” He asked and there was a pause.

“You’re on speaker.” Sy said.

“Steph, she—” He sighed, “She did a threat assessment on us last night. She told me after I got her through a panic attack.”

“She what?” Mike asked.

“Shit.” Sy sighed, “Who was at the top of the list?”

“Geralt.”

“What?” Geralt asked.

“August she would see it coming, be able to de-escalate before it got that far. Mike, you wouldn’t hurt her physically, but you would tear her down mentally.”

“No I wouldn’t!”

“Abuse response, Mikey, don’t take it personal.” Sy said.

“Markus, you and I would only after a lengthy argument.”

“Why me?” Geralt asked, his tone controlled.

“Because you’re calm.” Walter said, “And you would be calm until—”

“Until I wasn’t.” He finished.

“Yeah.” Walter said and Geralt gave a growling sigh.

“Fuck.” He said.

“I’m going to kill him.” August said, “Council wants him alive, but I don’t fucking care what they want. He dies next time he shows his face.”

“Get in line.” Geralt said.

“Haven’t we been—” Mike started. “I mean, things have been good, yeah?”

“Mike, I can fuckin’ promise you things were good with Lewis, too, in the beginning.” Sy said.

“And then they weren’t.” Mike said, “Shit. I need to go over there. I need to see her.”

“She’s still asleep.” Walter said.

“We’re comin’ over.” Sy said, “See you in a bit.” The call ended and Walter sighed, running his fingers through his curls before heading back into the bedroom. Sliding back into bed, he pulled her into his arms, tucking his face in her shoulder.

“Morning.” She said blearily.

“Morning.” He mumbled in return, “The others are on their way.”

“Okay.” She said, laying her hands on his arms. “You’re warm.”

"Do you want breakfast?" He asked but she shook her head.

"Not hungry." She said, "Just tired."

"Get some rest then, love."

Stephanie didn't know when she had drifted off again, but when she woke next, Geralt was in bed with her, holding her in his arms, his fingers running gently through her hair.

"Hey." She said and his lips pressed to her forehead.

"Never." He said, "Never hurt you."

"I know." She said simply, "It's just..."

"I understand." He said, "Sleep."

She drifted in and out of awake and asleep all day, and whenever she woke, someone different was in bed with her. To their credit, they didn't make moves on her, knowing that now was definitely not the time.

It was night when she woke again, Sy asleep next to her, his face half buried in the pillow as he lay on his stomach. She watched him for a bit before getting up gently, sliding out of bed and heading to the attached bathroom. Coming back out, she left the bedroom, the TV on in the dark living room but at a low volume. They were asleep, sprawled out on the floor or the couch, curled up in the recliner, the screen casting odd shadows on their faces as the images flickered across it. Take out containers, Chinese food, littered the living room and kitchen. Fried rice, lo mein, a couple different variations of chicken. There was an untouched container of chicken and mushrooms on the kitchen counter and she knew it was for her, as they knew it was her favorite.

She didn't deserve them.

They deserved someone better than her.

She needed air.

Slipping on her flats, she left the apartment quietly, heading into the breezeway that ran the length of the building. She knew she was overthinking it, she knew they weren't like him, that they wouldn't hurt her intentionally. That they would never hurt her, but she--

Pain blossomed from her cheekbone, sending her to the ground, her head bouncing off the concrete.

Mike snapped awake, looking around the apartment.

"Steph?" He called out, but there was no answer. Getting up, he went into the bedroom, but Sy was alone in bed. "Stephanie?" He went into the bathroom, but it was empty. The second bedroom that she and Walter were using as an office was also empty and dark, the computer turned off. "Steph?" A sinking feeling was building in his chest.

She breathed through the pain, hearing him walk around her.

"Oh, Stephanie." Jordan said, "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

[junewild]

so far my trip to texas has included:

1. plane turned off twice & flight was an hour delayed

2. car broken into in my garage while i was gone

3. fainted and pulled a costco box of coke off the fridge onto myself

4. encountered a Ceiling for the first time in my life & gained a profusely bleeding head wound

5. migraine & tummyache for 4 days :(

6. slept maybe 12 hours, also in those 4 days

7. the world’s most haunted airbnb, featuring holes in the floor, a sharp board nailed into the floor that people kept tripping on, a haunted crib, a room with six doors, none of which closed it off from the hallway, jenga bunkbeds, overflowing trash cans which animals went through, a hole dug by a Creature in the middle of the night, and so, so many bugs

7a. the water in the airbnb infected my head wound, gave someone acne, & fucked up someone else’s face???

8. reopened the head wound in the airport

i need to be outside of texas immediately

[yourbelgianthings]

taz november celebration fic 3: prompt laugh

contrary to what you may think for this prompt, this is sad for like 3/4 of it lol but the end is happy, it’s tres horny boys and about 850 words

Magnus Burnsides's laugh was deep and hearty, but he wasn't used to hearing it by itself; he had always been laughing with Julia. Their life together was perfect, working with their hands and having something to show for it at the end of the day, then coming home to each other. Julia made dinner, Magnus did the dishes, their routine was consistent and comforting. They even thought about having a baby, although they were in no rush. Of course, that never happened, and when Magnus hugged Julia goodbye the day he left town, neither of them knew it would be the last. His friends brought dinners, went for walks, and spent evenings on the porch with Magnus after Julia's death, but he actually chose to bury her alone. The physical act of digging the grave was satisfying in a sick way, it grounded his soul in his body despite its countless attempts to break out through his ribs and fly away. A simple granite slab laid on top, reading: Julia Burnsides, We Love You Forever. His tears darkened the stone in little circles until the sun began to set, and he wouldn't laugh again for some time.

Merle Highchurch always did his best to keep a positive outlook, but it was hard to find reasons to laugh without his kids around. Apparently his sense of humor consisted of a lot of "dad jokes", and those weren't really a big hit with anyone else, especially when he was out trying to preach the word of Pan. He constantly struggled with his choice to leave after he was gone, if it was only the arranged marriage that was the problem, things would have been so much simpler. However, Hecuba and he had Mavis and Mookie, who he loved dearly. That didn't change the fact that he wasn't a very good dad, though, intentions don't count for much in that regard. So, he decided they would be better off without him; if you love something let it go and all that. Cycling through feelings of freedom, guilt, regret, apathy, and more, he wandered the world, presumably to share the word of Pan, but really just wishing to be able to laugh again.

Taako Taaco was very hard to make laugh. He and Lup used to do just that when they were bored, whoever laughed first lost and then they would just be in a fit of giggles for a while anyway. They found things funny between themselves that nobody else understood, but it didn't matter, because it made perfect sense to them. Not that he remembered any of this, of course. The Taako who forgot could be very cynical, and often saw humor from others as an attempt to conceal their true attitudes or motives. On stage for Sizzle It Up With Taako, he laughed and told jokes, but that was about as fake as it got. Hearing the applause and cheers from the audience, seeing the excitement in their eyes, and being complimented as he signed autographs and posed for pictures gave Taako energy and kept him going. He thrived on the attention, but some days, it wasn't enough and there was nothing else. Getting out of bed seemed impossible as his body simultaneously felt heavy and hollow. After Glamor Springs, this set in for several weeks until he suddenly thought: I'm fuckin' Taako from TV, I can go do whatever I want, and if anyone has a problem wit h that, I'll just laugh in their face and keep going.

One night, several months later, in their dorm at the Bureau of Balance, Tres Horny Boys were having a sleepover. Technically, they always did this by virtue of sharing a room, but they had decided to make a night of it, just for fun. Taako cooked the most delicious popcorn the other two had ever had, with the perfect amounts of butter and salt, and he also bought some nail polish from the Fantasy Costco. Magnus realized that Pringles had left some of his stuff in the room, so they had some cool old CDs to listen to, and Merle had found some candles for more ambient lighting. They were all set for the perfect sleepover, and as Taako was painting Magnus's nails shiny silver by candlelight, Merle set down the big bowl of popcorn he had been snacking on and asked, "What did everyone say to the kernel when he finally popped?"

Taako snorted and said,

"Merle, I am not even going to entertain this one," but there was a smile on his face.

Magnus gave in, "I don't know, Merle, what?"

"CORN-GRATULATIONS!"

Magnus immediately burst out laughing, which made Merle join in and Taako shout,

"Mags, you're going to mess up your nails!" although he couldn't help laughing too. It was just so ridiculous and Merle's confidence in the delivery was what really got them. The three of them flopped onto each other, slightly out of breath the way the best fits of laughter leave you, Taako leaning on Magnus's shoulder and Merle leaning on his stomach on the other side. They all smiled, and for the moment, things were okay.

[chainofclovers]

For the second time in two years I have bought a shirt on the internet that I did not realize was a crop top only to find out it was! The latest one was at least very cheap (marked down so low it's nonrefundable), an impulse buy tacked on to an order of a few nicer items (all of which work great, thanks very much). But like.......what the hell. I knew this top would be "slightly cropped" and I knew to size up because there were enough reviews saying it ran small, but everything about it online led me to believe it would be fitted and the type of cropped that looks good with high-waisted jeans. No one mentioned that if you've got a C cup or higher, this thing will basically look like a very modest bra with short sleeves. (The model looks like she has bigger boobs than me--I'm a C--but I could be delusional.) (On the bright side, had many laughs over this thing when it arrived last night, and when it ends up at Goodwill with the tags still on it makes me happy to think about the absolute journey some unwitting customer is going to go through when they stretch this thing over their chest and experience their body from a whole new view.)

Small victory: it was very cool of my brain that when I put that shirt on, my first thought was not "ugh my body is terrible" but was instead "oh my god this shirt is so wack and that is hilarious"!

I've been thinking a lot about my job and the way my relationship to it ebbs and flows dramatically. I'm in a period of really liking it right now. This could end at any time. And so could, I suppose, the job itself, although things seem relatively stable. Something that's been helping me ever since I went on my once-every-few-months Costco run last weekend is thinking about how my job is only fake important and I genuinely could see myself being one of the food sample people at Costco. I love talking to people, including small talk and random brief encounters. (Believe it or not, this was my favorite part of my years working retail.) I love giving people food. I would not have to think about giving people food at Costco when I was not at Costco giving people food, although I absolutely would. Maybe I will do this when I retire, and maybe I will retire today. :) :) :)

I am not going to retire today, but an exit strategy that is unrelated to writing feels so nice and silly and calming.

I've been having a fucking fantastic time writing lately, even as it is, as always, difficult and annoying. Writing! Yeah!

Also as always, the world is so bad and so good, and everything is going on, and being a person is so weird.

[dollarbin]

Dollar Bin #24: The Doors

Like every other wishing-he-were-cool Southern California white boy born in the mid-to-late 70's, I had a big Doors phase in 1990. In the year leading up to Oliver Stone's ridiculously silly, TV flinging, film I spent 10 rich months in the following fashion:

First, I copied a friend's father's double CD Door's Greatest Hits collection (the one with Jim Morrison's fabulous pecks on the cover). I was discovering music after comic books and I memorized every glorious moment.

Next, I tracked down the band's four easily accessible full albums via another friend's Costco (or was it still called Price Club at that point?) Nice Price 4 Pack and memorized all of that too, even though I found parts of Waiting For The Sun dull and much of LA Woman sorta gross.

Then, I decided that Not To Touch The Earth was actually their best song and that anyone who only knew the band's greatest hits was a poser.

Next, I enjoyed listening to my father's tall tales about how The Doors had once lived on the strand in Manhattan Beach (my hometown) and were often practicing in their garage when my dad passed by. He also claimed that Morrison had worked for him for one single day as a house painter (my father's trade) but that Jim had been too nuts to keep on the payroll. At other points in my dad's joyful imagination Charles Manson and Ginger Baker had also been on past crews; his lies, which were specifically designed to entertain us, led us to mock and roll our eyes at him when he sincerely claimed that one of his past painters, Robbie Rodgers, actually had gone on to be a relatively successful musician. But then dad scored us tickets and we went to see the dude's Reggae/slasher band, War Called Peace, open for Yellowman; it was totally nuts, and Robbie told us that my dad had changed his life.

After that, I learned of the existence of The Soft Parade and swore to myself that I'd never listen to it. My heroes, horrifyingly, had once SOLD OUT!

Next, I watched Apocalypse Now over and over, daydreaming of the day I'd get my own hands on The End's master tapes and undercover even more of Morrison's Oedipal ranting.

(All the while I had no idea what Oedipal actually meant.)

Throughout it all, I feverishly followed Robert Hilburn's updates in the LA Times on the back and forth on set about whether or not Val Kilmore would sing or lip sync in the upcoming film.

Shortly thereafter, I shook my fist in fury when Billy Idol dared to cover LA Woman. The poser!

That drove me to the library, where I got Riders on the Storm, Jim Densmore's Morrison bio. I read it feverishly, taking mental notes on how I too would one day successfully avoid the draft by demonstrating Morrison-level savvy madness.

Midway through Densmore's self-aggrandizing tome, I bought a copy of Wilderness, Morrison's slim and posthumous published poetry collection, and carried it around with me together with my copy of the Tao Te Ching, convinced that they were the two true holy books. Anyone who thought otherwise I recognized as a poser.

All the while, I spent a lot of time thinking about how Ray Manzarek doubled as the band's bass player and pianist all at the same time on one keyboard. I viewed him as Einstein with a chainsaw.

Somewhere along the way, I sought out an ancient tape copy of a disco sounding album the band made after Jim's death and noted that no one in the band had made meaningful music ever since. And so I grew slightly concerned that maybe my heroes were secretly lame.

But I still stood in line for opening night of the film and smugly mocked everyone else in line with me as a poser. Clearly, none of them knew the secret lyric, edited out, after She Gets! on Break on Through...

And I thought the movie was pretty cool!

Then I proceeded to grow sick of the whole thing - the band and everything about them was suddenly far too mainstream for my superior tastes - and I decided anyone who liked The Doors on any level was a poser. Lou Reed and Bob Dylan were all that mattered.

Then a cool older kid played me Peace Frog and I realized I'd missed a whole album (damn Costco!). So I decided The Doors were cool again for about 15 minutes.

Then, 10 months after the whole thing had started, I moved on for good.

But that's not entirely true. Years and year later, I sang my kids to sleep with The Spy and The Crystal Ship; and I can still can almost recite Morrison's poem about some dude burning leaves. Now that I summon it from the internet and read it again I still think it's pretty great:

A man rakes leaves into

a heap in his yard, a pile,

& leans on his rake &

burns them utterly.

The fragrance fills the forest

children pause & heed the

smell, which will become

nostalgia in several years

But now, I have to ask, how does one even go about listening to The Doors with any objectivity 33 years after they became the world's biggest band for a moment and 50 years after Morrison's death? I mean there's a 15 year old hipster in the high school where I teach who still wears a t-shirt with Morrison on it. I don't know if objectivity can be achieved.

But I'm giving it a shot right now as I write this.

My copy of their debut, self-titled, album is an original print supposedly, and the vinyl sure sounds like it's creeping up on its 60th birthday. Crackling thunder, seemingly borrowed from Riders on the Storm, buzzels and pops throughout. But the whole record sounds great that way, like it too was taken from the Ancient Gallery and WALKED ON DOWN THE HALL!

Fair reader, here's what I think: if I try hard and strip back all the nonsense I know about poor Jim and the band, then I'm left with what is elemental music.

Sure there's some silly stuff to be found: Morrison's lyric "specialize in having fun" from Take It As It Comes is, and always has been, embarrassing, along with basically all the lyrics to Light My Fire. And I don't really know that the organ's drunk circus vibe in Alabama Song holds up.

But listen to Manzarek spill every coin in the band's copious wallet on Take It As It Comes; remember just how cool the wandering guitar intro still is on The End, not to mention the slapping, rippling, pick me up 3/4 of the way through that wandering track; appreciate just how unhinged Morrison's screaming holler is on Back Door Man; ride on the perfect Crystal Ship. And for god's sake, just sit back and listen to Light My Fire.

What if we simply thought of The Doors alongside their actual peers from 66-71: Love, Buffalo Springfield, Jefferson Airplane, The Grateful Dead? What if we slowed down and remembered that the band did everything they did in under 5 years? What if we remembered, at the same time, just how much Stephen Stills still sucks? And what if we set aside for good just how damn magnetic poor Jim was? What if we just listened to The Doors?

I encourage you to give it a shot. Drop the needle on The Doors debut once a season; ride the King's Highway west; catch all the weird scenes in the goldmine. You too will wish The Doors practiced in a garage down your street.

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

Update! After posting this, my famous brother sent me this photo of Morrison. He's actually in Manhattan Beach!

I think my father, who, come to think of it, looked a hell of a lot like Morrison at that point, is just outside the frame, striding away after firing his ass. Rest in peace Jim.

[netscapenavigator-official]

Neutrogena needs to get their shit together.

I used to use (a long time ago) the Hydro Boost Extra Dry Gel Cream. It was a really good moisturizer, and I liked it a lot.

I switched to a different brand and used them up to recently, but I recently switched back to Neutrogena. When I did, I looked for the same product. It was gone. They discontinued it. They replaced it with TWO products. Their Water Gel (Fragrance-Free) and Water Cream. I went with the Water Cream. Even though it's a bit of a heavier formula, I've never minded as long as I don't feel greasy and nasty. It's a great moisturizer. If your skin care routine and local humidity conditions are right for Hydraulic Acid products, 10/10 recommend.

Well, I needed more. I was running low on my first jar, and I was at Costco. I saw they had a two pack. Great! I love a good deal, so I got them. Except... did I?

The product I got is called "Water Cream+". Wtf is the plus for?? Every time I look it up it's impossible to find results for, unless I use quotes to force verbatim answers. Even then, I can never find anything about them changing the formula. From what I can assume (and see) the Water Cream+ only comes in a two pack (like at Costco). So... is the Water Cream+ identical to the Water Cream, just sold in a two-pack?? Are they trying to make people who shop at places that sell the two-pack feel "exclusive" and "fancy" or something?? What's going ON?

Also, while I was researching to try and find an ingredient list to compare, I noticed something else: The two products are no longer called what they are. 🙃

Their OG Formula, Plastic-Jar Hydro Boost Water Gel is still called that, and is still available for some reason.

Their OG Formula, Plastic Jar Hydro Boost Extra Dry Gel Cream is still discontinued.

Their New Formula, Fragrance-Free, Glass Jar Hydro Boost Water Gel is now called the "Gel Cream."

Their New Formula, Fragrance-Free, Glass Jar Hydro Boost Water Cream is still the same as it was (so long as you buy singles from basic stores like Walmart).

They now have an even newer "Enhanced Formula," Fragrance-Free, Glass Jar Hydro Boost Water Cream+ that is exclusively sold in two-packs that I can't find any info on.

Yay. 🙃