#and get better at drawing different things (like food for instance) ><< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[mintjeru]

jersey maids 🎀💕

open for better quality | no reposts

[pastel-peach-writes]

hello!! i love your writing, so may i ask? may you write about fem!reader x caitvi with a reader that does ballet? thank you!🌷🌷💋

Sure! I'm a ballet dancer myself so I'm happy to do this request!

En Pointe | CaitVi x Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: Headcanons of CaitVi with a ballet dancer girlfriend!

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: No Spoilers(S2), She/Her Pronouns, Not Proofread, Suggestive Themes (Second to Last Paragraph)

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

– As someone who's also physically active, Vi makes sure you're taking care of your body after long nights of rehearsal.

– She gives you supplements that help with muscle recovery, makes you protein shakes or smoothies that help you last throughout dress rehearsals or performances, etc.

– She also will invite you to work out with her when your teachers tell you that you need to work on conditioning or stamina.

– If you're running late to practice and your hair is a mess, Caitlyn will always be there to help you with it. Whether that's putting it in a ponytail so you can put it in a bun later or flat-out doing the bun for you while you prepare snacks and waters for class.

– Furthermore, the girls love to attend your rehearsals to watch you dance or to get familiar with your dance studio/school. Sometimes they come during late-night practices with dinner or during early morning practices so they can take you out for brunch later.

– When the time comes for pointe shoe fitting, trust that Lady Caitlyn and Vi are right there at your appointment. The two of them are astonished with how pointe shoes work and never knew how much care and preparation goes into them.

–––

"What do you mean you have to sew them yourself?" Vi asked after her first fitting with you, appalled to hear that the ribbons and elastic come separately.

"Some teachers and dancers prefer different styles of ribbon, elastic, cut, and placement so to make things easier on the pointe shoe makers, the dancers sew the shoes themselves," you informed Vi but Caitlyn was nearby taking notes.

–––

– On days when you forgot a certain pair of shoes or tights, one of the girls would rush home to grab them for you. Even if they were in the middle of work.

– And on the off chance that they can't leave work to help you out, Caitlyn either finds or hires someone to purchase a new pair of shoes for you and then deliver them to your location.

– Safe to say you have many pairs of canvas ballet shoes and even contemporary/jazz shoes if you dabble in those genres too.

– Upon supporting you through your practices and giving you motivation on hard days, Caitlyn and Vi are always there at your shows and performances with flowers or a stuffed animal if you don't like flowers.

– They've told their family and friends about the show too so you have at least two rows, or one really big row, of supporters at every one of your performances.

– Caitlyn would get her family, Jayce, Mel, maybe even Viktor while Vi gets her crew (Yes, including Vander, Mylo, and Claggor), and her sister to attend. Even some of the coworkers Vi got close to attend your shows sometimes.

– After every show, they make sure to feed you. So if you're in between shows, for instance you finished a morning show but you still have an afternoon and evening performance, they would quickly get you food from a nearby restaurant if craft services wasn't provided or good.

– If you only had one show that didn't cut too late into the night, they take you to whichever restaurant you want.

– It could be a restaurant you saw on the way to the venue that you wanted to try or your favorite one back home. Either way, you're getting fed and they're happy to pay for whatever you want.

– On days when practice was an absolute ass and your body was a mess and too sore to function, Caitlyn offers to draw you a warm bath while Vi offers to draw you an ice bath.

– Sometimes they get into petty arguments about which bath is better and what you truly need at the time but usually, they come to a decision on their own.

– After your bath, warm, ice, or both, a meal would already be ready for you and the bed open for your laying.

– If you were too tired to eat, one of them would feed you in bed while the other massaged your sore muscles and applied muscle repair cream.

– If you're one to enjoy adult activities, sometimes the massaging gets carried away. Especially if you're just in your towel. But trust, it's all consensual and if you're not in the mood for such activities, the girls don't even encourage it.

– Okay, that's all! Hope you guys enjoyed <3

WC: 732

[gardenwalrus]

The Beatles speaking about themselves in DISC (12 October 1963) [George & Ringo section here]

[PAUL] We’re not unapproachable… It’s fab - the success and all that - but I wish people wouldn't think that because we’re successful, we’re unapproachable. It’s not true. We’re just the same now as we always were, and I hate it when maybe someone who lives in the same street now ignores me because they’re frightened I’m going to turn my head away.  I think in the last year or so, I’ve grown up a lot. I’m still the same old Paul McCartney, but I seem to have learnt a great deal more. For instance, I know there are times when I must behave myself! When you’re in the public eye for most of the time if you’re caught out doing anything mischievous the comeback’s on the group, and the rest of the Beatles shouldn’t have to pay for any mistakes I make. 

I know it sounds stupid coming from me, but I don’t want to be classified as anything, and if I had more time, I’d like to relax and take life as it comes.  I had a taste of really relaxing when Ringo and I went to Greece.  The only part we didn’t like was having to take the garlic from all the food, and there were times when I longed for a good old steak and chips, or a few cheese slices. I’m on a slightly different food kick now. Bananas, meringues, pancakes and crepe suzettes.  In spite of this I’ve lost a lot of weight in the last few months. I suppose that’s from running around, but as long as I feel healthy, there isn’t too much to worry about.  The biggest moment in my life that I remember is getting my first bike. I must have been about seven.  But the funniest thing is, I always used to pedal backwards and it took months to get me to do it right!

+

[JOHN] I want to write a book… I love doodling. You know, I want to write a book and when I eventually get round to it I want to fill it with Lennon-type ramblings and cartoons.  If I wasn’t what I am today, then I think I would like to have been a cartoonist. On the other hand, if I did too much drawing, I’d finish up with square eye balls to match my glasses! I don’t like specs, but I have to wear them. It’s as simple as that. I chose black square frames because I think they suit me best. I’ve gone right off what you call ‘beatle-neck’ jackets. Got sick of wearing them. Instead I’ve started going in for four button suits with two vents at the back, preferably in a heavyish material. I’m always looking for changes. You get a bit fed up with wearing the same gear all the time. But one thing I won’t change is the colour of my socks. I always stick to black and navy blue, and usually elastic-sided boots.  I suppose my likes and dislikes are the same as everyone else’s. But there are one or two things that make me hopping mad. For instance, I can’t stand it if someone plays one of our records in public knowing we’re there.  Another thing I hate is people who go out and buy all these wild rhythm and blues records without really understanding them but because it’s the thing to do. Maybe I’m biased, but to me, music is sacred. I love it in most forms, and even have an album of the stuff by Stravinsky, along with The Shirelles and Chuck Berry.  I like people to be natural, and perhaps a little offbeat, but not way-out. Those way-out cats are only trying to attract attention. Don’t think I’m hitting back at the groups who are supposed to copy us in dress or music. I just think they’d stand a much better chance by being themselves and, if possible, trying to think one jump ahead. 

[chloe--summers]

As the slayer you don't have the luxury to be a slave to your passion - Giles, Passion

In 2x17, Giles told a Buffy who was worried about Angel possibly going after her mom & lurking in her room "As the slayer you don't have the luxury to be a slave to your passion." He was speaking here, admittedly a little bit clumsily, of the risks of Buffy reacting too harshly to provocation; to let herself be possessed by her passion and make a unadvised move that could cost her life.

Worth noting that at the end of the episode, Giles has done exactly what he had warned Buffy about. Upon witnessing the gruesome death of miss Calendar, he went on what amounts to a suicide mission to avenge her by going to Angel's lair alone to kill him. Of course he knew Angel wouldn't be alone and somewhere within him he knew that his chances of beating Angel alone are near 0 but he did not care; he wasn't seeing clearly and ended doing in spectacular fashion exactly the opposite of what he warned Buffy about; to not let her passion get control of her. Giles advice to Buffy remains a valid warning no doubt. Good for everybody and even more for the slayer for is often dealing with higher stakes situations. The topic of falling for your passion is much broader than life & death scenarios, it can be as silly as going all-in in poker the very next hand right after you've lost a big pot or becoming affection dependent. The episode had more to say on the topic however.

At the beginning of the episode, Angelus gives us a monologue on passion. His tone is very different from Giles. He states that passion is in all of us and despite not wanted it will make you it's slave. "Passion rules us all and we obey. - Angelus" We can see here the stark contrast between Giles takeaway and Angelus. It is unsurprising that a vampire would have that sort of view on passion. Demonic entities are mostly creatures of permanent wants, enslaved to their passion who are more often than not of a low naturalistic kind. When looking at the Qliphoth (demonic realm) inhabitants, you notice that demons are often of a vampiric nature in the broad sense of the word; feeding their addiction at the expense of others. It's not always the case that they take pleasure in hurting others, it's just a side effect of their complete enslavement to their passion. To them, passion is their master and they have no choice but to obey.

Unrelated here but I have a pet theory that since God's light is absent from their realm, demons have to rely on other form of sustenance to subsist and vampirism is their way to be self reliant. A form of twisted godhood they sort of manage to replicate since they would be technically capable of living without God due to their vampirism. God here in a general sense, I preach no religions.

In reverse, Angelus himself is also sort of a victim of passion. Cordelia pointed out why did Angelus go to Buffy's room to draw a portrait of her instead of just killing her right here right now? He had a clear easy shot to end her and yet he did not. Later Buffy tells Willow that she cannot believe Angel and Angelus are the same guy. Willow responds "Sort of, except you're still the only thing he thinks about - Willow"

Giles in that episode represents the fallible nature mankind. Our struggle with losing control to passion, that mankind will sometimes get the best of it but sometimes also fall for their passion and in Giles case he has let sorrow, anger & love rule him and it would've cost him his life if Buffy did not intervene. Giles even warned Buffy early in the episode that Angelus would do that sort of thing to taunt her into making a mistake by create big provocation. He knew all about the idea to the point of spelling it out, yet he still fell for it. We generally try to not fall for our base instinct but sometimes we fall short despite often knowing better. It's not always high stakes like in Giles instance, it can be simply trying to not binge on food or dealing with a gambling problem. We try our best but sometimes we fail. While we all have aspirations and passions, it is important to keep a cool head and not let ourselves be dominated by our desires. Ironically the best course of action is often keeping a dispassionate attitude toward your passion. "If we could live without passion maybe we know some kind of peace, but we would be hollow - Angelus"

[solargeist]

I’m thinking more abt the Xelqua stuff , this is quickly becoming incomprehensible to anyone but me, but anyway, weird one shot AU of grian being a strange kid found by young watchers in training

-Aether and Flora find little Grian while on a Watcher challenge/task/whatever in a magic forest. He looks like 5 years old and doesn’t know his age. Flora says to leave him, these woods are dangerous so it’s probably a trap, Aether says look at him he doesn’t even have shoes.

-They bring Grian along, mostly carrying him, he seems content with this, but doesn’t rly explain what he’s doing here.

-they all sleep in a small hollow dead tree, Grian tucked away in the back of it. It’s not easy sleeping in a small space with a child, especially when you have wings and he keeps stepping on them

-they have eggs for breakfast. Grian doesn’t like them, so he points out you can eat these glowing mushrooms growing here, and he takes a bite before anyone can say anything. Aether almost has a heart attack and makes him spit it out, he says it’s fine because he’s eaten them before.

-they ask him who his patron is, he proudly exclaims its Xelqua, the saint that leaves destruction, the one almost forgotten abt. The child’s confidence is exactly like you’d expect from Xelqua

-when it rains, he cries and tucks himself under Aether’s wings, he really hates lightning, he says people die when there’s lightning, but doesn’t go any further into that. Waiting out a storm in a hollow tree also sucks, so much.

-When they eat meals, Aether has to repeatedly remind Grian to sit still and not wander off, saying ‘Ah’ when she wants him to turn his attention back and take a bite of food. Flora says that’s gross, sharing a fork, and Aether reminds her they’ve done the same thing before, but Flora says thats different.

-One day the three get cornered by a large creature, it’s mouth snapping at them as their legs kick and hold the jaw back, neither have a moment paused enough to try and fight, stuck on defence in a small corner. Grian—far too happy sounding—loudly states he’ll handle it, he points a small finger at the beast, and a thin purple line appears, shooting directly between its eyes. Portal magic, this young ? A tiny strip of brain teleported to who knows where, in an instance, to the sound of breaking glass. The creature drops dead, pouring blood. Aether and Flora stare at each other, Grian eagerly waits to be told good job.

-Aether and Grian pray before meals, to different saints. Flora does not

-Grian sees Flora fishing one day, he tells her there’s a better way, she tells him to go away he’ll scare them off. Grian sits by the edge of the water, wide eyed with his hand hovering above the surface. He quickly stabs down and pulls out a fish, fingers digging into it and eyes faintly purple, but he looks back and smiles widely waiting for approval.

-They walk past little saint statues at the bed of trees, so small they blend in with the mushrooms, Xelquas not there so Grian doesn’t care

-Aether and Flora get lost, they have a vague Watcher challenge to find a building in these woods, but the trees are too tall, too thick, they can’t fly and look around. They ask if Grian could possibly draw a map, he lives here right? He draws a straight line in the mud and doesnt elaborate.

[aquestionaday]

A Question A Day, July 2025: Characters

31 questions to help you post about your characters every day in the month of July 2025.

01. If your character was to live in your favorite tv show or movie's world, how would their life be different? How would they be different? How would they get along with the main cast of the show or movie?

02. Does your character have special tricks they like to do to show off? If yes, what are they?

03. What is your character's favorite subject for photography? Do they prefer photography of animals, weather patterns, the sky, nature, people, events, sports, etc?

04. How many languages does your character know? What made them decide to learn them (if more than one)? Did they learn them for fun or out of necessity? How fluent are they? Are they better with written or verbal speech?

05. What is the most insane thing your character has done for attention?

06. Does your character prefer their SOs older or younger or the same age? If they don't date, then same question but for close friends.

07. If your character was to rename themself, what name would they pick? What's the significance of the name?

08. What are some of your character's guilty pleasures? How many people know about them?

09. How many relationships has your character been in? Which one was their favorite? If that one ended, what happened to end it?

10. Is there a certain restaurant or type of food that your character tends to crave a lot? What is it? Is it based off of a real restaurant or is it made up?

11. Is your character the type to believe in astrology? How far does their belief go, if they do? Do they read horoscopes? Do they actually believe their horoscopes to be real?

12. What form of science most fascinates your character? How much of a curious person would you say they are?

13. Which of your character's (own) physical features do they find the most attractive/are they the most proud of? Which side of their family did they get it from? How far down their lineage do you have to go to find someone who shares it (for instance, my eyes come from my maternal grandmother)?

14. Reblog a post that you feel really encapsulates the essence of your character. Explain in a separate post (unless you reblog your own post, then you can just do it on the reblog) why you chose that post for them.

15. If your character was to run a blog on tumblr, what kind of blog would they run? Would they post a lot or be someone that posts every once in a great while? Would they only have one blog or multiple? Would they have multiple accounts so they could have multiple main blogs?

16. What fandoms would your character be part of if they lived in the real world in modern times?

17. How difficult is it to earn your character's trust? Who do they trust the most and what caused them to trust this person so much?

18. How often does your character have time to do their favorite hobbies? How much time at a time do they put toward it (ie an hour in one sitting to do their favorite hobby)? What is the hobby?

19. Would your character be an android or an iPhone person or would they be the person that uses some obscure phone that no one's ever heard of?

20. What is your character's view on technology?

21. What is your character's favorite breed of dog? What draws them to this breed? Do they tend to prefer big, medium or small dogs, in general?

22. What are some of the differences in how others around your character view them vs how the character views themself? Which view is more accurate of how they actually are? Do their actions match their speech? Are they consistent or do they tend to be more random in action? How about in speech?

23. How frequently does your character go to the place they were born? Do they travel much? If so, where all have they been? What's their favorite place they've been to?

24. What is your character's favorite first-date question to ask? How do people respond to their answer to the question?

25. What was the most tragic thing to happen to your character? Where in the process of healing from it are they? What steps have they taken to try to heal from it? How do they react to people talking and/or asking about it?

26. How health-conscious is your character? What are some of their good health habits and what are some of the bad ones?

27. What are some of your habits that you know your character would have Something to say about? What would be your character's advice to you if they were to give advice on how to kick the habit(s)?

28. What is your character's favorite activity to do with their partner?

29. What pet names does you character love? Which ones do they hate? What nicknames have they given to their partner that isn't quite a normal pet name?

30. When handwriting, does your character have a preference on what color ink pen they use? Do they prefer pens or pencils? If pencils, do they prefer mechanical or number 2 pencils?

31. Which classic tv channel would be your character's favorite if they lived in real life?

[fawnl3t]

I feel like I'm just gonna give up with doctors for now, I'm hoping I can go to a different clinic next year and things will be better but it makes me so sad I meet the best people at the worst times. Like Doctor E, one of the only doctors who's actually helped, he was tried so hard to help with referrals and everything, he never looked at me rudely like the other doctors, he and my mom got along so well unlike the doctors who were rude or belittled her(or us) in the past, i was even gonna see a really important specialist because of him then he's no longer here; then there was a speech/behavioral therapist I saw for less than half of a year , she said that she ended up bragging about me to other people and how I was such an interesting person, she gave me stuff (trinkets, books, food) and hung up a drawing I made her, she said she wish met meet me sooner , she retired a few months ago, health reasons and age etc.

There's so many other instances , several teachers, a veteran, a few therapists too. I wish I I meet them all sooner, people like them seem so rare to find in a rural town in the south. Literal angels. I think about all of these people often weather it was just a couple months ago or several years ago.

I remember there was this one teacher who saved a drawing I made him years ago, it was still with him and he hung up when he moved schools, the only drawing hung up too, which has made me extra proud and happy before.

I still have a special 90s bookmark that another teacher gave me, she only had a few , she gave the others to her grandkids, I was the first who wasn't related to her to get one.

Stupid perhaps but those little things give me so much hope

[ember-owlet]

|| cg! dina x regressor! ellie headcanons ||

(or as we like to call ember's way of coping with the ending of the game after four years and wishing that they had stayed on the farm together) /j

content warnings: mentions of vent regression due to trauma ((stay safe little firelights, you can always come back to this when you're ready))

due to ellie's involuntary regression, dina would always have to be on alert around the house and farm. as long as JJ was somewhere safe and comfortable she'd be able to give her due attention to ellie, despite ellie desperately trying to force herself out of the headspace from guilt.

most of the time ellie's regression is due to her past traumas, bringing her to a heightened state of awareness and fear. however, dina is well equipped to bring down her little one when an episode arises, holding her close in her arms and grounding her; telling her that she's safe and no one will ever hurt her again.

dina doesn't mind at all being a motherly figure for her love despite the difficulties that come their way. wherever ellie goes, she goes.

one of the pair's favorite ways of grounding and reconnecting is through their shared love of music. there's no better musician to dina than listening to her baby play the guitar for her, and ellie thinks there's no prettier dancer in the world than her mama. dina would wrap her arms around ellie and sway with her gently, the two finding their own rythm to slow dance wherever they are, record player or not.

when ellie has time to unwind and voluntarily regress with dina she can be the silliest regressor ever. she loves to make her mama happy with jokes/puns that she used to tell joel. dina would always oblige, scrunching her face or rolling her eyes playfully at how awful they are.

these two unfortunately has zero filters when it comes to swearing. in this dynamic both the caregiver and the regressor are chronic pottymouths.

due to their height difference you can't tell me there wasn't at least one instance where ellie had put something that dina needed a little higher than she could reach in retaliation.

at this point in the story, despite her lighter headspace ellie still suppresses a lot of her thoughts and feelings. dina had found a nice middle by letting ellie doodle or write in her journal for her to look at later on to see what she needs.

however, as long as the topics aren't too heavy both of them love to rant and talk to each other about anything and everything.

ellie loves to talk about the things she's learned about dinosaurs, space, or the movies and comics she's scrounged up.

dina loves to talk about whatever is on her mind at the minute, her plans for the day or prospects of the future or past.

whenever dina is having a hard day where being her normal silly self is too much to handle ellie would put her arms around her mama, reminding her that they'll get through it together. she'd bring her drawings, snack foods and blankets to read outloud some of her favorite comics or bundle dina up to have them watch a movie together.

if dina ever takes the day for herself by leaving the farm she'd plan it far ahead of time, leaving little messages around their house and garden to make sure ellie is alright with JJ while she's gone. there would be cut fruit on the table and a prepped meal ready on the stove for the two to wake up to with a list of chores for the day and a note wishing them well and that she'll see her babies soon.

[djdynamixau]

Making Your DJ Playlist for the Party: Party Arrangements

Organizing a party is a difficult task. Numerous elements need to be taken into account, from selecting the ideal theme to forming the guest list. It's the music, though, that has the power to really make or ruin your gathering. Hence, employing a pro DJ becomes necessary! Whether you're planning a classy corporate event or a crazy birthday party, having a talented DJ on hand will guarantee that your guests have an unforgettable evening. This blog post will cover party planning in detail and walk you through the process of making a playlist that will be talked about at your next gathering. With Party DJ Hire Sydney, let's get set to dance the night away!

Draw out a guest list.

The first thing to do while organizing a party is to invite people. This important job helps you decide on everything from venue size to food and drink numbers and lays the groundwork for your entire event. Think about the kind of party you want to throw and the guests you wish to invite first. Could it be a small party with close friends or a big celebration? Start writing down names as soon as you have an idea.

Also take into account your space constraints. When choosing your guest list, keep in mind if your venue can only hold a specific amount of people comfortably. Any unique needs or preferences that your guests may have, like as food restrictions, dietary requirements, or even musical tastes, should also be taken into account.

In order to allow visitors to RSVP and give you enough time to make the appropriate arrangements, make sure you send out invites well in advance. If digital invites better fit your event's style, you can still go conventional and send paper ones.

Select an event theme.

Your party's overall atmosphere can be established by your choice of theme. Your guests will be talking about it long after the event has ended because it brings a fun and exciting element. Think about your visitors' interests and preferences when choosing a theme. Would they rather have a more current look or are they liking nostalgic vibes? After you have an idea in mind, explore as many different ways as you can to make that topic come to life.

Make sure your decorations match your selected theme, as they are essential to creating the mood of any party. Everything, even the table settings and lighting fixtures, should accentuate the mood you wish to achieve. Consider using vibrant leis and decorations resembling palm trees for your beach party theme if it's a tropical one. Neon lights and cassette tape decorations are great for a 1980s throwback party.

Arrange and embellish

Party décor is a fun and creative way to create the ambience and mood for your guests. Your choice of décor may really make a difference, whether you're throwing a sophisticated cocktail party or an exciting dance party.

First, decide on a theme for your party. This will influence the decor you choose and help you achieve a unified design. For instance, to create the illusion of an island paradise in your area when holding a tropical luau, use vivid colors, tiki torches, and inflatable palm trees.

Subsequently, consider the many aspects of your location. Use striking decorations to create focal points, including balloon arches or bold centerpieces. For a cozy and inviting outdoor atmosphere, hang paper lanterns or fairy lights.

Don't overlook the table settings! Select dinnerware, napkins, plates, and linens to go with your theme. Include unique elements to make each visitor feel unique, such as personalized place cards or themed drink stirrers.

Organize your efforts.

Choosing the appropriate activities is essential to keeping your guests entertained and involved throughout the evening, whether you're throwing a lavish event or a laid-back backyard get-together.

First things first, think about your guest list's demographics. Do the majority of them enjoy dancing young adults? Or maybe parents who need to find some kid-friendly entertainment? Being aware of your audience will enable you to adjust the activities to suit their tastes.

Consider scheduling a brief dancing session with a qualified instructor for an enthusiastic group of people. Depending on the mood of your party, this might be anything from hip-hop to salsa. This is a great way to start a conversation and will also get folks moving and grooving.

Set up lawn games like giant Jenga or cornhole if you have an outdoor area accessible. These timeless games never fail to ignite everyone's competitive spirit and offer hours of entertainment to adults and children alike.

Provide spaces set out for card or board games so that visitors can congregate and mingle if they're looking for a more low-key affair. This enables people to take part in friendly competition and have lighthearted talks.

Remember to include activities that involve music! Get a karaoke machine or make your own DIY photo booth and decorate it with themed decorations. Over the course of the evening, these interactive features will keep guests engaged and provide them with photo opportunities.

Decide on a song.

Consider your guest list after that. Across what age range are they? Which music genres do they prefer? Selecting music that will captivate all listeners and keep them dancing all night long is crucial.

Don't be scared to change things around! Mix up your playlist with songs from different eras and genres. This will ensure that there is something for everyone and satisfy a variety of tastes.

If you're not sure where to begin, think about working with a professional DJ that caters to events just like yours. The ability to read a crowd allows a DJ Hire to pick music that will keep everyone dancing.

It's important to remember to make seamless song transitions. Without any abrupt tempo shifts or startling transitions between songs, you want your playlist to flow naturally.

assemble drinks and food

It's time to make sure your visitors are nourished and watered after you have handled all the party's logistical details. A well-stocked bar and a delectable food buffet are necessities for every successful celebration.

Think about the party's theme when selecting the meal. Grilled vegetables, hot dogs, burgers, and cool salads would be ideal for a laid-back backyard BBQ. Consider serving classy canapes or perhaps hiring caterers to handle the food for a more formal event.

Remember the beverages in addition to the delicious meal selections! Make sure you stock a variety of alcoholic beverages to suit a range of palates, including wine, beer, and spirits. Offer non-alcoholic alternatives as well, such as delectable mocktails or reviving water with fruit extract.

Make sure you have enough glasses and cutlery for everyone who will be there as part of your preparations. To ensure that guests' drinks stay cold during the event, it's also critical to supply an ample supply of ice buckets or coolers.

[peaceful-melancholia]

8. Philosophy of Gambling

The inside of the casino was just like all kinds of movies Alice had seen, flashing lights and tables full of pretty gamblers, and dice everywhere. The dealers wore green visors, and the tables were green, too. There was food and drinks, and Alice thought she was breaking the law, though she supposed it might not be the same laws here.

“Well, since my mom told us to, we should play something,” the jack said, sitting at one of the green tables. “I guess you might not want to, since you think I cheated the last time we played.”

“I will, if you apologize,” Alice said. “I don’t think I can play just anything with you if I think you’ll cheat. And it would be even easier for you to cheat here than it was before, at that resort. Unless your family owned that one, too.”

“No, they didn’t. But I guess there is something I could do to help with the situation. How about a rematch? Best out of five, same game. Five card draw, jokers wild.”

Alice thought about it for a while. He was definitely still going to be better at card games than she was. She didn’t play very often, and the game she had suggested originally was go fish. Of course, the jack had said that the game was for little kids, and suggested five card draw. He had needed to teach her how to play, since she was unfamiliar with poker. Then, when he won, she had assumed that he just had a way to cheat with five card draw that wouldn’t work with go fish. But in this instance, she supposed that everything else was so odd that it might be nice to have a familiar, if rigged, card game.

“I guess we can do that. Just don’t cheat. But that’s why you’re offering, isn’t it? You’ll lose a couple of rounds, then put a bet, and win the one with stakes. So we just won’t have any stakes to it this time.”

“Fine. I don’t have much to bet with, anyway.”

The jack took the deck of cards from the center of the table and began shuffling them, doing so with enough expertise that she started studying his method to see how he might have been stacking the deck, but she couldn’t get the answer.

“If you want to be sure I’m not doing anything funny, you can shuffle,” the jack said, offering her the cards. She wanted to take him up on the offer, but she shook her head.

“I don’t know how,” she admitted. It was embarrassing, since she was in a casino and playing with someone who grew up in places like these, but it would be more embarrassing if she struggled to shuffle with everyone watching her. So he finished shuffling and dealt the first five cards to each, speaking as he did.

“Gambling has everything, in case you didn’t know. It’s like a little picture of life. The suits are all like people, and the cards are, too. Everyone is like one of these cards. But the game itself is like how people interact, and if you do it right, you have everything a society needs.”

“Well, I don’t need these cards, but I don’t want to be like your mom and discard people,” Alice said. “I prefer to think of cards as cards.”

“That’s fine,” the jack said, replacing some of her cards and some of his. “Dealing from a shuffled deck means anything is possible. There are so many combinations, every game is going to be different. There’s a lot of possibilities, a lot of chance.” As he spoke, they revealed their cards, which were not very impressive. He had a pair of threes, then a jack, nine, and two. She had an ace, joker, three, eight, and seven. “And, when you have wild cards, they increase the randomness. You win, pair aces.”

He took the used cards and put them in the discard with the others, dealing five more.

“This game, and a lot of others, let you cut out what you don’t need, what’s hurting your hand. You can fix things, get to a point where everything is whole and good.” He said this as they discarded and took new cards, then revealed their cards. He had three sixes, a seven, and a two, she had two fours, a king, a five, and a two, all of hearts. “You win again.”

He reset for the next round. They looked at their cards again, he replaced them. “It’s also important to keep score, and to remember previous rounds. Especially with only one deck, you can get a good idea of what’s coming if you keep track.” He laid out his hand, showing the three queens that earned him the win. “I had two each of queens and sevens. But there were no other sevens left after that, and both queens were still there. So besides the fact that queens are higher, I knew there would be no other sevens. I took the risk of losing the one pair to get a better chance of getting another queen, but it was because I knew it was a good chance I would get at least one more. Memory is important.”

He dealt the next hand, and they exchanged their unwanted cards for new ones. When they were revealed, Alice had won with a king-high straight. “Every game has an element of strategy, control, and decision-making involved, too. That way it isn’t just random. You see the cards, put them in order, and decide what you want them to do in the end. You might not manage, but if you do, it’s because you took control. The games would turn out a lot differently if the exchange was random, too, and no one was in control.”

Finally, they played the last round. Alice expected the jack to say something else, some fifth thing, during the hand like he had at all the others, but he was silent the whole time, even as they revealed their hands. He had won, with a full house, and then he spoke after clearing the cards.

“The most important thing, of course, in a place like this. It has to be fair. You’d be right to be upset if things weren’t fair. What fun is poker if the randomness and the skill were both exchanged for unfair tricks? You wouldn’t even want to play with someone that didn’t keep things fair.”

“I guess, since I beat you three to two, you must not have been cheating,” Alice said.

“I can’t cheat. Even if I try. I can’t cheat, and I can’t lie, and the games I play end up being perfectly fair. Play enough times, and it’ll be completely even. I won’t ever get ahead by being unfair, so I have to get ahead by being fair. Being honest.”

“Well, you’re not ahead now. If anything, it’s not fair, but in my favor. So fairness isn’t really working for you to get ahead.”

“I already told you, memory is important. We’ve played six rounds of this, if you count that first one. And I won it. That means, out of six games, we each won three. It was perfectly fair. Even if I didn’t want it to be, it had to be. And that’s the fun of it. Though, I guess sometimes when everything is against you, and the odds are stacked in someone else’s favor, maybe it’s okay to cheat. It might even the odds. But even then, I’d never be able to do it. I can’t even use loaded dice.”

“How would you know that?” Alice asked, incredulously. Dice were physics, and if she knew what loaded dice were, they were weighted to roll a specific number more often. It wasn’t a matter of who was rolling them, the dice themselves were unfair.

“I made a pair of loaded dice. Other people can use them, but I can’t.” He pulled out a pair of dice, both red, though one was slightly darker than the other. It was subtle enough that someone might not notice if one were switched out with the other. “The dark one rolls a six, and the light one rolls a one. But when I roll them, they roll random numbers each time. So if you want them, you can have them. They don’t do me any good, anyway.”

Alice took the dice, rolling them as a test and confirming that they did work for her, exactly as he had explained them. She put them in her pocket, though she didn’t know what games used dice, so she didn’t expect to have much use for them.

“I should apologize. I was a sore loser, and I accused you of cheating for no reason. You weren’t cheating, and I was being a bully. I shouldn’t do that,” Alice said.

“That’s fine. Just remember that I’m forced to be fair. So other people should be fair with their use of force.”

“That makes sense. At the same time, if I know I won’t ever get ahead when I play a game with you, and I won’t fall behind, either, it might not be very fun to gamble. So I think I’m done, for now. Maybe if we meet again, we can play a different game.”

She shook his hand and rose from the table.

[gamesweetdreaming]

Rapid fire autism acceptance month #2

6. Miscommunication: miscommunication in autism is using words and grammar wrong, it's being bilingual and using a word that is offensive in one language while not in the other. There's many instances I said something that was clear in my head, but when typed, people misinterpreted hard and when said, I fumble my words too much, I pronounce them wrong, I stutter, etc.

7. Lately people just seem to ignore me when I say I'm autistic. And if I'm saying I'm autistic it means they are either judging me or blaming me for doing something that I SHOULD be able to do. I never had people treat me differently I think, they simply act like they don't believe me.

8. Creativity and if its caused by autism: I don't think there's either evidence or a rational way to explain autistics being creative, but fact is we do think differently, you could say we think outside the box, it's said this is an important asset to be an artist. I myself like digital drawing, but I tackled a lot of creative medias, like painting, stitching, recording and editing, writing and sculpting....

9. Autism and mental illness: No actual proof autism itself causes other mental illnesses always, but the fact is a lot of us don't have our needs met as kids. This causes trauma, trauma can cause half of mental health issues, if not most. I definitely don't just have autism, I got diagnosed with depression countless times but I think it's over simplistic to what I feel and I'm similar (like, REALLY similar) to my dad, who has BPD.

10. Struggles with physical health: yes, I struggle with it, doing healthy things is a chore, it hurts and it's tiring (emotionally), I can't eat healthy foods because of stimulation issues. Lately I have been healthier in terms of training since I have a physical job, yet this is not enough for allistics around me, they say I should be going to the gym too in my free time (I'm sorry I already don't have spoons for that??? I can't even sit down at work why would I WILLINGLY go to a gym???)

11. Easy things that comes to non autistics: well first of all a healthy lifestyle, a lot of body positivity is how they chose to have a healthier life, I didn't choose to be unhealthy, I didn't choose to reject veggies and fruits, I didn't choose my body to be sensitive to pain. Something else is academically, there's people who wouldn't study and get a better grade than me, people who CHOSE to not go well in school, which causes me and others to be seen as lazy, I like learning, I hate studying, I never got a good grade. Socializing and knowing unsaid rules. I spent my whole life learning them. People like to be in the "in group", they know it's safe that way (- got this from a neurotypical) I could never go there, I never WANTED to be included, I just wanted to have friends, and not even that I got until much later.

I could go on about the last question, autism affects us in all ways neurotypicals could never think of, that's why it's a disability.

[alanhunt]

(The first Microwave Oven)

From the New Yorker, Feb 5, 1949

THE Raytheon Manufacturing Company, of Waltham, Massachusetts, an old hand at turning out radio tubes and radar equipment, has now produced the Radarange, which, as its name implies, cooks food by radar. The most astonishing aspect of this spooky invention is the speed with which it operates. A large pan of gingerbread can be baked in twenty-nine seconds, and water comes to a boil faster than you can say "instantaneously." At the moment, the Raytheon Company is still experimenting with Radaranges and, instead of selling them, rents them to hotels and restaurants, at a charge of five dollars a day. The only local hotel equipped with Radaranges is the Roosevelt, which has two and is delighted with them. We stopped in there the other day to try a few samples of radar cooking, and we're delighted, too.

It will be some time before the department stores have Radaranges. The present model would have to sell for twenty- five hundred dollars a unit, if the Raytheon people were willing to sell it at all, and they haven't even got around to drawing up plans for a home model, We were escorted into the Roosevelt kitchens by Louis Del-Coma, assistant to the general manager of the hotel, who informed us that the bulk of the hotel's cooking is still being done on regular, old-fashioned stoves but that the Radaranges have been very useful in emergencies. Faced with an unexpected run on baked potatoes, Del-Coma said, the chefs turn calmly to the Radaranges, which can bake a potato in four and a half minutes, as against an hour in a conventional oven. The Roosevelt Radaranges stand about five feet high, are about two feet wide and two feet deep, and have a control panel of comforting simplicity: an on-off button, a high-low switch, and a five-minute timer, calibrated in seconds. The oven is of stainless steel and has a steel door perforated like acoustic tile, so that a cook can see in. The ranges produce energy the way a radar transmitter does, but it is directed into the ovens, for cooking purposes, instead of out into space, for detection purposes. The heart of the device is the magnetron, a tube of very high frequency and very high cost, which sends out microwaves at 2,450 megacycles, spang in the middle of the band the Federal Communications Commission has assigned for cookery and other industrial transmissions. Most affected by that particular foods are frequency. They are, in fact, practically given a nervous breakdown by it, and the heat that cooks them is a product of friction among their agitated molecules. One odd thing is that while water boils so promptly, paper, which has molecules that react to a different frequency, is unaffected, and if you put a paper cup full of water in a Radarange the water will all boil away, but the cup will remain undamaged. Metal reflects the microwaves, so the oven itself never warms up; glass and china conduct the waves, so plates and casseroles stay cool while the food on or in them gets piping hot. Mr. Del-Coma turned on one of the Radaranges, set the timer for four and a half minutes, and put a large, unpeeled potato in the oven, on a plate. The potato immediately began to sizzle and jiggle. "You see how fast it is," Del- Coma said. "As a matter of fact, it's too fast for some foods. Eggs, for instance. One of the boys put a whole egg in a Radarange one day and it blew up with a terrific pop." When the oven shut itself off, Del-Coma removed the plate and potato. The plate was cool, but the potato was too hot to touch. Del-Coma slit it open, tucked in a pat of butter, and handed us a fork.When it had cooled enough to eat, we sampled it and found it to be done to a turn and fluffy-the best baked potato we've had since our Second-Class Boy Scout days. Then Del-Coma cooked us a hamburger patty, in two minutes. It couldn't have been better. "The Radarange cooks foods evenly all the way through," he said, "and this means people are accustomed to. If we're cooking a mackerel fillet, we get around that problem by using a special seasoning, which has a coloring effect. Steaks cook perfectly in these ranges but end up looking gray. Our solution to that is to sear them for a few seconds in a broiler, then put them in the Radarange. We cook a ten-ounce steak forty seconds if you order it rare, forty-five seconds for medium, and fifty seconds for well-done. Up in Massachusetts, there's a quick-order place with a Radarange, and when they get a takeout order for a hamburger, they put the raw meat in a bun, smear on mustard, wrap the sandwich in wax paper, put it in a paper bag, and toss the whole works in the oven. They say it tastes fine."

[route10archives]

By making material attractive, you risk diluting it. By donating it, you risk people thinking it's "forced" or "prescribed." By dissecting it you risk making it seem fragmented. Knowledge of anything (in this case, ideology) is incapable of defending itself from those unwilling\unable to understand it. That's not it's fault; that's not it's purpose.

In the melee between people defending different ideologies (opposing or simply adjacent), the frontliners mistake trolls for opponents, the commanders mistake philosophy for battle plans, and the entrenched mistake confused refugees for zealots. There is no opportunity to be a bystander or a civilian because there is always a risk of any random action being misinterpreted as an assault.

People who aren't even somewhat acquainted with these schools of thought are subsumed into one side or another based on who accuses them first. They're probably living in a community of generally like-minded people and mistake agreement on one axis for agreement on all of them. The main force for recruitment is the creation of the strawman named "the other side" and the question of "are you like that?"

"did you skip church because you hate jesus christ?"

"naw, man, I was horribly ill."

"oh. I'm glad you still support our conservative values."

"did you hold that door only for that woman to enforce gender roles?"

"that's my coworker. We work the same shifts."

"oh. I thought you were being part of the System."

Even now, I'm making my own damn strawmen just to illustrate my point, drawing from my cursory knowledge of the liberal\conservative split.

It's not a hot take to say "we're too focused on opposing the 'other' to understand what makes us similar" but unfortunately I am not eloquent enough to erase the nuance. My own experience is what's shaping this observation, not any research, authority, or anecdotes. I define myself as a liberal not because I know what a liberal is, but because I am directly opposed to those who hate them. "At least I'm not a conservative" is shorthand for "at least I'm not homophobic, transphobic, uneducated, religious, patriarchical, and trigger-happy." Even just the fact that I thought about adding "fascist" or "supremacist" to that list should show how blatantly uneducated I am on what a republican even is.

I don't know where I stand on every issue, not out of indecisiveness but out of lack of exposure. I just don't know all the issues. All I know is the pseudo-propaganda that's spread via the conflict-centric "news" systems. It's all too easy to see that The Libs are fighting with The Old White Fucks over whether HRT should be legal and automatically align myself. I'm sure there are some progressive republicans out there simply because I've seen my fair share of reactionary liberals (though that may just be seattle). Those seem like oxymorons to me and I don't know which half is due to circumstance and which is due to "morals" (or a lack thereof).

Yes I want to educate myself. I hope I read those pdfs. It does not seem interesting to me but it is without a doubt necessary for me to understand if I am to be trusted in a politically-leaning discussion. I can yell "protect trans kids" all I like, but until I'm able to explain to a dissenter why I think that, I better keep my mouth shut and my fist raised.

I want to educate myself, but it is all too easy to embrace my ignorance and postpone it. I "don't have time" and "have more important things to do right now" and "should sleep soon" and all that. I'm "not in a mentally okay state" and "really stressed right now" and "starting a new medication" n stuff. The excuses do not end. This is not a situation unique to me. I'm just another fuck on the internet saying "I'm not gonna get into all that political stuff just yet" despite most of these theories and practices and historical instances being about everyday things and the access people have to them. Food is not political. Food stamps are. Transport is not political. Vehicle-focused infrastructure is. Eating pussy is not political. Sex work is.

Yeah I understand that people don't exactly "make things political," politics hijacks normal life and forces people to fight proxy wars for arbitrary power. Congratulations, Lavender, you've achieved the bare minimum self-awareness to talk about it. I'm not clever. It's just what happens when you oppose the opposition and have to form an identity out of fucken negation.

This is not my realm of expertise. I don't intend to be listened to. The only reason I've even logged in to this account is because I'm kinda fucking freaking out about other shit right now and I don't trust myself to be alone.

Someone just blokt me for sending them links to free PDFs of anarchist and Marxist theory when they said the only requirement to be a leftist is "not being a jerk." Lol. Lmao, even.

[latesteducationblog]

Fun Activities to Improve Your Child's Mandarin Over the Holidays!

Did you have at least some idea that there are many advantages to being bilingual? Research has shown that kids who are bilingual will generally be more inventive and can concentrate better as they can disregard diverting data and work on an errand all the more really. This capacity assists them with learning and cycle data promptly and capability well in school as well as other learning conditions which they are in.

Make a move to bond and upgrade your youngster's affection for Mandarin this occasion with these two action sheets which our “My First Skool” Improvement Experts have exceptionally evolved!

The finish of each and every year is an extraordinary time for family travel in Singapore. Taking your youngsters to travel not just expands their insight, expands their perspectives, and improves the parent-kid relationship, yet in addition develops their autonomy. During the time spent arranging and voyaging, guardians can assist their youngsters with creating rich language in regular life circumstances through language communication with their kids.

Prior to voyaging, gather data and examine with your kids:

Where would you like to go (which country/place)? how to get to?

How is the climate objective? What arrangements are required?

What would it be a good idea for me to carry with me while voyaging?

What could be done locally? Where do you most need to visit and why?

What would it be a good idea for you to focus on while voyaging? For instance: follow your folks, don't leave without anyone else, let your folks know if you have anything, and so on.

Activity

Allude to the Child Gear Arranging Agenda, talk about with your youngster what different things should be brought, and add them to the rundown.

Then, at that point, urge the youngsters to set up the things they need to convey and pack them into the bag as indicated by the bag list they made with their folks.

While voyaging, guardians can:

Guide youngsters to focus on the similitudes and contrasts among nearby and Singapore concerning climate, engineering, language, apparel and food.

Urge youngsters to set up their own knapsacks consistently and bring the provisions they need while going out that day.

After movement, guardians can:

Guide the youngsters to discuss the similarities and contrasts between the nation or city they visited and Singapore.

Allude to the structure and let your youngsters make records with straightforward words, drawings or photographs.

Year-end is typically a famous time for families to travel to another country for occasions. Other than expanding a kid's points of view, welcoming them on an abroad excursion can be an incredible chance to fortify their language capacities and encourage freedom.

Prior to your vacation, examine these with your youngster:

Where might you want to go (Nation/Spot)? How might we arrive?

How is the climate in the country that we are visiting? What is it that we want to get ready?

What is it that we want to bring along?

What are the great exercises to do? Where might you want to go the most? Why?

What is it that we really want to observe when we travel? For example Try not to stray all alone and so on.

Activity

Prior to voyaging, go through the agenda [download movement sheet] with your youngster and talk about assuming there are some other things to add to the rundown.

Urge your youngster to pack his/her own bag as indicated by the pressing rundown.

During the Holiday:

Get your kid to notice and think about the distinctions between the vacation spot and Singapore like the climate, engineering, language and food.

Urge your kid to pack his/her own sack, bringing along things required for the day's movement.

After the Holiday:

Examine with your youngster the distinctions he/she saw between the place to get-away and Singapore

Go through the action sheet [download action sheet] together and have him/her work them out or introduce it in a drawing.

[hellsitesonlybookclub]

The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka

Full book available here

[The novella is short, but the chapters themselves are too long to post all at once, so I'm breaking them in half for convenience]

Chapter I (part 1/2)

One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin. He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections. The bedding was hardly able to cover it and seemed ready to slide off any moment. His many legs, pitifully thin compared with the size of the rest of him, waved about helplessly as he looked.

“What’s happened to me?” he thought. It wasn’t a dream. His room, a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls. A collection of textile samples lay spread out on the table—Samsa was a travelling salesman—and above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. It showed a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her lower arm towards the viewer.

Gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather. Drops of rain could be heard hitting the pane, which made him feel quite sad. “How about if I sleep a little bit longer and forget all this nonsense”, he thought, but that was something he was unable to do because he was used to sleeping on his right, and in his present state couldn’t get into that position. However hard he threw himself onto his right, he always rolled back to where he was. He must have tried it a hundred times, shut his eyes so that he wouldn’t have to look at the floundering legs, and only stopped when he began to feel a mild, dull pain there that he had never felt before.

“Oh, God”, he thought, “what a strenuous career it is that I’ve chosen! Travelling day in and day out. Doing business like this takes much more effort than doing your own business at home, and on top of that there’s the curse of travelling, worries about making train connections, bad and irregular food, contact with different people all the time so that you can never get to know anyone or become friendly with them. It can all go to Hell!” He felt a slight itch up on his belly; pushed himself slowly up on his back towards the headboard so that he could lift his head better; found where the itch was, and saw that it was covered with lots of little white spots which he didn’t know what to make of; and when he tried to feel the place with one of his legs he drew it quickly back because as soon as he touched it he was overcome by a cold shudder.

He slid back into his former position. “Getting up early all the time”, he thought, “it makes you stupid. You’ve got to get enough sleep. Other travelling salesmen live a life of luxury. For instance, whenever I go back to the guest house during the morning to copy out the contract, these gentlemen are always still sitting there eating their breakfasts. I ought to just try that with my boss; I’d get kicked out on the spot. But who knows, maybe that would be the best thing for me. If I didn’t have my parents to think about I’d have given in my notice a long time ago, I’d have gone up to the boss and told him just what I think, tell him everything I would, let him know just what I feel. He’d fall right off his desk! And it’s a funny sort of business to be sitting up there at your desk, talking down at your subordinates from up there, especially when you have to go right up close because the boss is hard of hearing. Well, there’s still some hope; once I’ve got the money together to pay off my parents’ debt to him—another five or six years I suppose—that’s definitely what I’ll do. That’s when I’ll make the big change. First of all though, I’ve got to get up, my train leaves at five.”

And he looked over at the alarm clock, ticking on the chest of drawers. “God in Heaven!” he thought. It was half past six and the hands were quietly moving forwards, it was even later than half past, more like quarter to seven. Had the alarm clock not rung? He could see from the bed that it had been set for four o’clock as it should have been; it certainly must have rung. Yes, but was it possible to quietly sleep through that furniture-rattling noise? True, he had not slept peacefully, but probably all the more deeply because of that. What should he do now? The next train went at seven; if he were to catch that he would have to rush like mad and the collection of samples was still not packed, and he did not at all feel particularly fresh and lively. And even if he did catch the train he would not avoid his boss’s anger as the office assistant would have been there to see the five o’clock train go, he would have put in his report about Gregor’s not being there a long time ago. The office assistant was the boss’s man, spineless, and with no understanding. What about if he reported sick? But that would be extremely strained and suspicious as in five years of service Gregor had never once yet been ill. His boss would certainly come round with the doctor from the medical insurance company, accuse his parents of having a lazy son, and accept the doctor’s recommendation not to make any claim as the doctor believed that no-one was ever ill but that many were workshy. And what’s more, would he have been entirely wrong in this case? Gregor did in fact, apart from excessive sleepiness after sleeping for so long, feel completely well and even felt much hungrier than usual.

He was still hurriedly thinking all this through, unable to decide to get out of the bed, when the clock struck quarter to seven. There was a cautious knock at the door near his head. “Gregor”, somebody called—it was his mother—“it’s quarter to seven. Didn’t you want to go somewhere?” That gentle voice! Gregor was shocked when he heard his own voice answering, it could hardly be recognised as the voice he had had before. As if from deep inside him, there was a painful and uncontrollable squeaking mixed in with it, the words could be made out at first but then there was a sort of echo which made them unclear, leaving the hearer unsure whether he had heard properly or not. Gregor had wanted to give a full answer and explain everything, but in the circumstances contented himself with saying: “Yes, mother, yes, thank-you, I’m getting up now.” The change in Gregor’s voice probably could not be noticed outside through the wooden door, as his mother was satisfied with this explanation and shuffled away. But this short conversation made the other members of the family aware that Gregor, against their expectations was still at home, and soon his father came knocking at one of the side doors, gently, but with his fist. “Gregor, Gregor”, he called, “what’s wrong?” And after a short while he called again with a warning deepness in his voice: “Gregor! Gregor!” At the other side door his sister came plaintively: “Gregor? Aren’t you well? Do you need anything?” Gregor answered to both sides: “I’m ready, now”, making an effort to remove all the strangeness from his voice by enunciating very carefully and putting long pauses between each, individual word. His father went back to his breakfast, but his sister whispered: “Gregor, open the door, I beg of you.” Gregor, however, had no thought of opening the door, and instead congratulated himself for his cautious habit, acquired from his travelling, of locking all doors at night even when he was at home.

The first thing he wanted to do was to get up in peace without being disturbed, to get dressed, and most of all to have his breakfast. Only then would he consider what to do next, as he was well aware that he would not bring his thoughts to any sensible conclusions by lying in bed. He remembered that he had often felt a slight pain in bed, perhaps caused by lying awkwardly, but that had always turned out to be pure imagination and he wondered how his imaginings would slowly resolve themselves today. He did not have the slightest doubt that the change in his voice was nothing more than the first sign of a serious cold, which was an occupational hazard for travelling salesmen.

It was a simple matter to throw off the covers; he only had to blow himself up a little and they fell off by themselves. But it became difficult after that, especially as he was so exceptionally broad. He would have used his arms and his hands to push himself up; but instead of them he only had all those little legs continuously moving in different directions, and which he was moreover unable to control. If he wanted to bend one of them, then that was the first one that would stretch itself out; and if he finally managed to do what he wanted with that leg, all the others seemed to be set free and would move about painfully. “This is something that can’t be done in bed”, Gregor said to himself, “so don’t keep trying to do it”.

The first thing he wanted to do was get the lower part of his body out of the bed, but he had never seen this lower part, and could not imagine what it looked like; it turned out to be too hard to move; it went so slowly; and finally, almost in a frenzy, when he carelessly shoved himself forwards with all the force he could gather, he chose the wrong direction, hit hard against the lower bedpost, and learned from the burning pain he felt that the lower part of his body might well, at present, be the most sensitive.

So then he tried to get the top part of his body out of the bed first, carefully turning his head to the side. This he managed quite easily, and despite its breadth and its weight, the bulk of his body eventually followed slowly in the direction of the head. But when he had at last got his head out of the bed and into the fresh air it occurred to him that if he let himself fall it would be a miracle if his head were not injured, so he became afraid to carry on pushing himself forward the same way. And he could not knock himself out now at any price; better to stay in bed than lose consciousness.

It took just as much effort to get back to where he had been earlier, but when he lay there sighing, and was once more watching his legs as they struggled against each other even harder than before, if that was possible, he could think of no way of bringing peace and order to this chaos. He told himself once more that it was not possible for him to stay in bed and that the most sensible thing to do would be to get free of it in whatever way he could at whatever sacrifice. At the same time, though, he did not forget to remind himself that calm consideration was much better than rushing to desperate conclusions. At times like this he would direct his eyes to the window and look out as clearly as he could, but unfortunately, even the other side of the narrow street was enveloped in morning fog and the view had little confidence or cheer to offer him. “Seven o’clock, already”, he said to himself when the clock struck again, “seven o’clock, and there’s still a fog like this.” And he lay there quietly a while longer, breathing lightly as if he perhaps expected the total stillness to bring things back to their real and natural state.

But then he said to himself: “Before it strikes quarter past seven I’ll definitely have to have got properly out of bed. And by then somebody will have come round from work to ask what’s happened to me as well, as they open up at work before seven o’clock.” And so he set himself to the task of swinging the entire length of his body out of the bed all at the same time. If he succeeded in falling out of bed in this way and kept his head raised as he did so he could probably avoid injuring it. His back seemed to be quite hard, and probably nothing would happen to it falling onto the carpet. His main concern was for the loud noise he was bound to make, and which even through all the doors would probably raise concern if not alarm. But it was something that had to be risked.

When Gregor was already sticking half way out of the bed—the new method was more of a game than an effort, all he had to do was rock back and forth—it occurred to him how simple everything would be if somebody came to help him. Two strong people—he had his father and the maid in mind—would have been more than enough; they would only have to push their arms under the dome of his back, peel him away from the bed, bend down with the load and then be patient and careful as he swang over onto the floor, where, hopefully, the little legs would find a use. Should he really call for help though, even apart from the fact that all the doors were locked? Despite all the difficulty he was in, he could not suppress a smile at this thought.

After a while he had already moved so far across that it would have been hard for him to keep his balance if he rocked too hard. The time was now ten past seven and he would have to make a final decision very soon. Then there was a ring at the door of the flat. “That’ll be someone from work”, he said to himself, and froze very still, although his little legs only became all the more lively as they danced around. For a moment everything remained quiet. “They’re not opening the door”, Gregor said to himself, caught in some nonsensical hope. But then of course, the maid’s firm steps went to the door as ever and opened it. Gregor only needed to hear the visitor’s first words of greeting and he knew who it was—the chief clerk himself. Why did Gregor have to be the only one condemned to work for a company where they immediately became highly suspicious at the slightest shortcoming? Were all employees, every one of them, louts, was there not one of them who was faithful and devoted who would go so mad with pangs of conscience that he couldn’t get out of bed if he didn’t spend at least a couple of hours in the morning on company business? Was it really not enough to let one of the trainees make enquiries—assuming enquiries were even necessary—did the chief clerk have to come himself, and did they have to show the whole, innocent family that this was so suspicious that only the chief clerk could be trusted to have the wisdom to investigate it? And more because these thoughts had made him upset than through any proper decision, he swang himself with all his force out of the bed. There was a loud thump, but it wasn’t really a loud noise. His fall was softened a little by the carpet, and Gregor’s back was also more elastic than he had thought, which made the sound muffled and not too noticeable. He had not held his head carefully enough, though, and hit it as he fell; annoyed and in pain, he turned it and rubbed it against the carpet.

“Something’s fallen down in there”, said the chief clerk in the room on the left. Gregor tried to imagine whether something of the sort that had happened to him today could ever happen to the chief clerk too; you had to concede that it was possible. But as if in gruff reply to this question, the chief clerk’s firm footsteps in his highly polished boots could now be heard in the adjoining room. From the room on his right, Gregor’s sister whispered to him to let him know: “Gregor, the chief clerk is here.” “Yes, I know”, said Gregor to himself; but without daring to raise his voice loud enough for his sister to hear him.

“Gregor”, said his father now from the room to his left, “the chief clerk has come round and wants to know why you didn’t leave on the early train. We don’t know what to say to him. And anyway, he wants to speak to you personally. So please open up this door. I’m sure he’ll be good enough to forgive the untidiness of your room.” Then the chief clerk called “Good morning, Mr. Samsa”. “He isn’t well”, said his mother to the chief clerk, while his father continued to speak through the door. “He isn’t well, please believe me. Why else would Gregor have missed a train! The lad only ever thinks about the business. It nearly makes me cross the way he never goes out in the evenings; he’s been in town for a week now but stayed home every evening. He sits with us in the kitchen and just reads the paper or studies train timetables. His idea of relaxation is working with his fretsaw. He’s made a little frame, for instance, it only took him two or three evenings, you’ll be amazed how nice it is; it’s hanging up in his room; you’ll see it as soon as Gregor opens the door. Anyway, I’m glad you’re here; we wouldn’t have been able to get Gregor to open the door by ourselves; he’s so stubborn; and I’m sure he isn’t well, he said this morning that he is, but he isn’t.” “I’ll be there in a moment”, said Gregor slowly and thoughtfully, but without moving so that he would not miss any word of the conversation. “Well I can’t think of any other way of explaining it, Mrs. Samsa”, said the chief clerk, “I hope it’s nothing serious. But on the other hand, I must say that if we people in commerce ever become slightly unwell then, fortunately or unfortunately as you like, we simply have to overcome it because of business considerations.” “Can the chief clerk come in to see you now then?”, asked his father impatiently, knocking at the door again. “No”, said Gregor. In the room on his right there followed a painful silence; in the room on his left his sister began to cry.

So why did his sister not go and join the others? She had probably only just got up and had not even begun to get dressed. And why was she crying? Was it because he had not got up, and had not let the chief clerk in, because he was in danger of losing his job and if that happened his boss would once more pursue their parents with the same demands as before? There was no need to worry about things like that yet. Gregor was still there and had not the slightest intention of abandoning his family. For the time being he just lay there on the carpet, and no-one who knew the condition he was in would seriously have expected him to let the chief clerk in. It was only a minor discourtesy, and a suitable excuse could easily be found for it later on, it was not something for which Gregor could be sacked on the spot. And it seemed to Gregor much more sensible to leave him now in peace instead of disturbing him with talking at him and crying. But the others didn’t know what was happening, they were worried, that would excuse their behaviour.

[uvobreakmylegs]

Detour

I’m excited that it’s fall but i’m also sad that i won’t be able to swim anymore

Warnings: death, graphic depictions of violence, creepy behavior, groping, mentions of smut, kidnapping

The two guys at the gas station check out counter had been there when Phinks had first walked through the sliding glass doors, and they were still there when he approached the check out himself, having only dropped in to grab another pack of beer. The gas station clerk seemed annoyed while the two guys were pulling their pockets inside out, evidently in search of any spare change that may have been hiding on their persons. There was a sad pile of jenny and some change sitting in front of the clerk while she waited for them impatiently, and she seemed ready to push all of the money back towards them as it became more and more likely that these two didn't have enough cash for the assortment of alcohol and junk food that also sat on the counter.

Any other time Phinks would've been annoyed by the situation. But seeing as he didn't have anywhere to be, he found that he didn't really care all that much. The troupe likely wouldn't meet back up for some time which left his schedule quite open, and he had found it difficult to find something to occupy his time with while he waited for the boss to bring everyone together again.

Phinks had decided that a road trip was a decent way to pass the time. It was something he'd never really done before and so far it was easing his boredom as he had hoped it would. There was no real time limit he had set on himself or any destination that he had in mind. He'd just keep doing whatever he felt like until the novelty of the trip wore off and then go home.

“Would you like to take a few items off?”

The tired voice of the clerk cut through his thoughts, and Phinks found that there had been no progress with the two in front of him.

“No no, we need all of it,” one of the men, a redhead, insisted, “we just, uh....”

Trailing off, the man glanced over to Phinks, who was still waiting with his single pack of beer. Then the man looked over to his companion and then back to the items on the counter.

Phinks could already sense what the man was going to ask of him before he spoke out.

“Hey man,” the guy said to Phinks, “I know it sounds bad, but do you think you could spot me on this? I'm bringing this stuff back for my party. We ran out of some stuff way quicker than we expected. Can't let people down, y'know?”

The redhead started telling him how much more they needed until the clerk interrupted him to tell him off for harassing other customers for money. A mini argument started between the two, with the man insisting that he wasn't harassing anyone and the clerk disagreeing with him. The man's friend joined in shortly after and it was quickly turning into a mess.

What obnoxious fucking people.

If he was in more of a bad mood he'd have probably snapped the necks of all of them. The presence of cameras stopped him from doing that, however, as it would just be too much of a pain to go to the back and destroy the footage after. Still, even though he didn't have anywhere to be, it didn't mean that he wanted to waste his time listening to people bicker. The easiest way out of this was to just give them the jenny so they'd all shut up.

After pulling out his wallet, Phinks slid the jenny across the counter.

That shut the three of them up, and the two men were quick to express their gratitude while the clerk just looked tired.

“Thank you so, so much, man,” the redhead continued after they collected their bagged items.

“Mm-hm.”

Phinks was only half-paying attention to him as he waited for the clerk to scan the beer so he could hand her the jenny owed. That transaction went much quicker and Phinks was soon making his way to the exit.

The two men seemed to be waiting on him, though.

“Hey, since you helped us out, you wanna come to my party?” the redhead asked.

Normally his automatic response would've been to give him a flat “no”. But in this instance Phinks just shrugged.

That seemed to give the redhead hope, and he began listing the reasons why Phinks should follow them back, like his “cool house”, hot women and great beer.

Given the especially cheap brand of beer Phinks had largely paid for, he had a hard time believing that last point. He also wasn't quite sure why this guy was so insistent on getting him to come along. Was it really just because Phinks had bothered to help them out?

“Name's Stu by the way. Back there is Billy,” the redhead told him, sticking out his arm to shake hands. When Phinks didn't do the same, Stu seemed a bit dejected, yet even that didn't make him back down from inviting Phinks.

“So how 'bout it, man? You wanna come?”

“.... I'll think about it,” he told him.

“Okay, but do it fast man. My place isn't that far from here.”

Phinks nodded, and Stu ran off to the car where his friend was waiting. The other guy didn't seem as keen on Phinks as the redhead had, regarding the blonde with suspicion. Phinks could hear him saying something as the two entered the car. Stu seemed to brush him off, and then their car doors closed and Phinks couldn't hear anything else.

The two ended up pulling out of the parking lot before he did, and Phinks found himself following them as they all made the same turn onto the highway.

He still had no real urge to go to some random guy's party, especially when he found him to be pretty annoying. And if it was a party filled with the friends of someone like that, he'd probably get irritated with all of them pretty quick. Better to just ignore them and be on his way.

Although the thought of just driving aimlessly through the night wasn't all that attractive, either. He'd done that several times now, and the feeling of being the only person in the world while he drove on the empty highway had lost its touch by now.

The car in front of him veered off the highway to get onto a side road.

After a few seconds, Phinks did the same, just thinking to himself 'why not?'. It would be something different, a little detour on a trip that was meant to be a distraction, and if it ended up being something that he didn't want to bother with, then he could just leave.

Although the noise level in the house wasn't quiet, it was nowhere near ear-shatteringly loud as Phinks may have expected. At least it had that in it's favor. Other than that, it was a stereotypical frat house party, with everyone talking and drinking as they got more and more shitfaced.

The two who brought him here vanished into the kitchen, and Phinks began to make his way around the house, sipping one of the cans of beer he had bought for himself since he had no interest in the shit the host had him pay for. A girl in one of the upstairs rooms noticed the beer in his hand and begged him to share with her, even going as far as to tug on the sleeve of his jacket when he told her no. He ended up pushing her away, and though he had tried to use as little force as possible, his strength combined with her tipsiness caused her to stumble back into a wall. She was still whining about him when he walked back down the stairs, going on about how mean he was.

He thought he'd been pretty nice to her, all things considered.

It didn't take long for Phinks to lose interest in this particular distraction. Not that he'd been expecting much, but after going around the house and not even seeing anything that might be worth stealing, he figured it'd be best to leave soon. With his short temper being one of his vices, he didn't want to deal with what would happen if some drunk got on his nerves and he smashed them into the wall.

With the sights, sounds and smells became grating to him and seeing no reason to stay any longer, Phinks went about trying to find an exit. Attempting to get out the same way he came in was put to a stop when he saw how congested the front entrance had become. He could've easily pushed past all of them, but since that would likely draw a fair amount of attention, maybe it'd be a better idea to find a different way out. Phinks wandered into the kitchen, walking by Stu who tried to talk to him. A patio door leading to the backyard caught his eye and he ignored the party's host as he walked by several people to get to it.

The cool air outside felt refreshing and he let out a soft sigh as the patio door slowly swung closed. Claustrophobia generally wasn't something he had an issue with, but that seemed to change a little when he was faced with a house full of drunken strangers who didn't understand the meaning of personal space. Another nice thing was the fact that no one else seemed to be out here. He didn't think it was that cold out, but it worked just fine if the people inside thought otherwise.

He stood on a deck with an assortment of patio furniture that sat in front of an in ground pool, and when he looked to the side, he saw the gate within the fencing that surrounded the backyard.

That was his way out, then.

With no more reason to stick around, he was about to head out and back to his car-

But he paused when he heard the sound of splashing water, and he looked back to the pool.

So he wasn't the only person out here.

Some of the patio furniture had blocked you from his sight so he hadn't noticed you at first, but you were now swimming out into the center of the pool and impossible to miss. It was pretty late in the year for swimming, wasn't it? Yet you seemed to be content with yourself despite the temperature and lack of company, swimming around the pool like you owned it. Maybe you did; he wasn't sure what your relation was to the party host.

Then your eyes met, and you smiled as you greeted him.

“Hello.”

“... Hey.”

He hadn't come out to look for company. He was looking to leave.

Yet something about this situation, about you, intrigued him, and Phinks walked forward, continuing with “isn't it a little late in the season for swimming?”

“That's what everyone seems to think,” you said, “it's going to be drained tomorrow, so I wanted to swim one more time before that. It's the last chance I'll get for this year.”

“No public pools around here?” he asked.

“I don't really like public pools,” you told him, laughing a little bit as you continued “the ones around here are never clean, and I don't wanna swim around in nasty water.”

Phinks couldn't say if he really had an opinion one way or the other. He tried to avoid situations where he'd need to be shirtless in public, as the spider with the number 5 on his ribs would've been a dead giveaway for anyone who understood it's meaning. He just shrugged at you as he said “fair enough.”

Phinks now stood at the edge of the pool while you swam up to the edge.

“I don't think I've seen you before. You new around here?” you asked him.

“No. Just passing through. Helped out the host at the gas station and he invited me as thanks,” Phinks explained, “I was expecting this to be taking place at some shitty apartment; didn't think a guy like that owned a house.”

“He doesn't, it belongs to his older brother Jed. Stu just lives with him,” you responded.

“Ah.”

That made a bit more sense to him. Since he hadn't been able to buy beer from a gas station on his own, it didn't seem likely that the guy would've had his own house. So he was just leeching off of his brother.

Despite being ready to leave just minutes earlier, he found that he now had a reason to want to stay here longer. But standing and talking to you was getting a little awkward, so Phinks sat himself down on the concrete next to the pool. So far you weren't annoying compared to some of the others. And despite being by yourself beforehand, you seemed pretty open to talking with him, resting your arms on the edge of the pool.

“You friends with them, then?”

“Jed is in a few of my classes, so I'm friends with him. Not Stu, though. He's kind of an asshole. Likes to play a lot of stupid pranks.”

You rested your chin in your hand as you thought back.

“He's destroyed two of my phones so far, both times by dumping water on me,” you said, “although I guess he did repay me for both, but it's still such a hassle to go through.”

“You're nicer than I am. If some guy like that fucked up my phone I'd kill him.”

You laughed at him, not taking his words seriously.

“You seem nice enough. You helped him out, right?”

“Only because it was the fastest way to get outta there. Stupid bastard started an argument with the clerk.”

“Yeah. That sounds like something he'd do,” you said, tiredness lacing your voice.

A cheer then sounded from inside the house, and though the doors and windows were closed, it was loud enough that the both of you could hear it from outside.

“Things must be ramping up in there,” you commented.

“Guess so,” Phinks said, taking a swig of his drink after.

“Isn't it kinda weird that you're keeping to yourself with an event like this? Don't see the point in going out if you're going to avoid people,” he added.

“But isn't that what you're doing by coming out here?” you asked.

“Nah, I was getting ready to leave.”

“What stopped you?”

“I haven't done much out here beside sitting here talking to you. What do you think?”

You seemed a bit taken aback and a little embarrassed as you realized the reason, but gave him a small smile.

“Oh wow. Are you saying I managed to be charming enough to keep a guy from leaving?” you asked him.

“No. You're just not as annoying as the others I've met tonight.”

Your expression was rather blank as you took in that information.

“..... I'll take that as a compliment, then,” you said, “so what do you do?”

“What do I do?”

“For a job, or just anything in general.”

“I do a couple odd jobs here and there, I guess,” he answered, “every once in a while a bigger opportunity comes up, and I just do whatever I need to.”

It was an oversimplification of his criminal activities, and he hoped that he'd been vague enough without sounding suspicious.

It appeared that he had as you didn't seem to think it was strange.

“You mentioned earlier that you were just passing through. Are you on your way to a job or something?”

“Nah. I'm currently off-duty. And I had a lot of time to kill, so I decided to take a road trip.”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” you said, “I work on campus, so I don't really get to do vacations for now. Can't remember the last time I went on one.”

“Job at least worth it?”

“Kind of? Although the other week I needed to go through something stupid.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I got screamed at by a lady.”

Your tone made it seem like that was something happened on a regular basis.

“For what?” he asked.

“Something with her daughter's textbooks. She ordered one that she didn't need on accident but didn't want to admit that she made a mistake, so she just let her mother yell at me for forty minutes and claim that we were the ones who fucked up.”

You sighed a little after the explanation. Evidently that situation still made you frustrated.

“.... Did she apologize after?” Phinks asked.

With a slightly wistful smile, you shook your head as you said “people like that don't apologize.”

“Sounds rough.”

It went without saying that Phinks wouldn't have tolerated anything like that. If it had been him he'd have killed them both and tossed their bodies in the trash. But he kept that rather violent thought to himself.

“Sorry you needed to deal with that,” he added.

“It's okay. It's little things that keep you going,” you said, “I've been looking forward to swimming for a while, so I'm pretty happy right now. Although I guess I'm kinda doing a job right now.”

“How so?”

“Jed's at his job right now, and since he doesn't trust Stu, he asked me to make sure nothing happens to the pool. The last time Stu had a party there was a bunch of trash in it the next morning, and it was a pain to clean up. So in exchange for using the pool, I have full permission to snitch on anyone who tosses anything.”

“Yeah? What's snitching gonna do?”

“Jed's a scary guy. Nobody wants to make him mad.”

If Phinks had felt like being more of an asshole, and if you'd been unpleasant during your conversation with him, he probably would've taken his half-finished beer can and thrown it into the pool just to upset you and also to see if your friend was as scary as you were making him out to be.

But so far he'd been enjoying himself, so as fun as that thought might have been, he decided against it.

You pulled one of your arms off of the rim and back into the water. Evidently you were getting cold, but you held on to the edge to continue speaking to him.

“So how long have you been on your trip?” you asked.

“A few weeks.”

“A few weeks? You must have been all over the place, then. Did you go anywhere in particular?”

“Not really,” Phinks answered, “didn't have any real plan when I set out. Just drove to wherever I thought would be interesting.”

“That's kinda cool,” you said, “must be nice to be able to go wherever you want without any real plan.”

“You can't?”

“Nope. Classes and work means I can't just run off whenever I feel like it.”

“Too busy getting screamed at?” he asked jokingly.

“Yeah, something like that,” you answered, laughing a little after.

You pulled your other arm back underwater and just kept a hand on the side of the wall.

“Cold?” he asked.

“A little.”

“Probably why most people aren't swimming this late.”

“I don't care; it's worth it,” you said, “honestly, the thought of being able to swim was what kept me going this week.”

That.... Was a little bit sad, Phinks thought to himself. That all you had to look forward to at the end of the week was a few hours to swim by yourself in the cold. There were much sadder circumstances in the world – he was certain that anyone from Meteor City would be more than happy to switch places with you – but your life must have felt empty. Although Phinks was technically in the same boat at the moment, at least being with the troupe gave him purpose. What did you have besides a shitty job and presumably a fair amount of college debt? Just the 'little things' to keep you going?

Maybe he was presuming too much; he'd only just met you after all. But it bothered him regardless.

“What are your plans for after college?” he asked.

You seemed a bit startled, and you looked away from him for the first time.

“Not really sure, actually. I'm still undecided on my major,” you admitted, “I need to figure out soon, though. I'm going to run out of the basic coursework that I need to get through, and my family is getting mad that I haven't made a decision yet.”

So you didn't have any direction and were being pressured by others. Still not the saddest circumstance ever, but if it had been him, Phinks was certain he'd have been miserable.

You clearly didn't want to keep going on about that particular subject, as you began to ask him questions about his trip, wanting to know where exactly he had been so far and how much longer he planned to drive for. The change in topics was obvious, but he decided to go along with it.

As the night grew darker while the two of you talked, he decided that he liked you. You could hold a decent conversation, even if the things you two talked about weren't all that meaningful.

You were pretty cute, too.

The party behind him still seemed to be going strong, but it was largely going ignored by you both, in part by the fact that you were still the only ones outside.

Your face lit up as a thought came to mind.

“You should come in!” you told him.

“No thanks.”

“Come on! It's really nice!”

You grabbed at his free hand, tugging on his arm lightly as you tried to encourage him to get into the pool.

“If you get my suit wet I'll drown you,” Phinks said told you.

You giggled, once more not taking him seriously. Though he was only half-serious about it at this point.

“Then take it off and come in,” you insisted.

“I don't have a swimsuit.”

“That doesn't stop most people.

“Good to know,” he said flatly.

Though you'd stopped tugging on his arm, both of your hands remained on his wrist as you looked up at him.

“Can you not swim?” you asked.

“I can swim fine,” he said, “I just don't feel like it right now.”

You seemed a bit disappointed, but you had yet to let go of his wrist.

“Should you really be that surprised with the temperature being what it is?” he asked you.

“It isn't that bad. And the pool is heated,” you insisted, “didn't think a bit of chill would scare off the most interesting person at this party, though.”

The corner of his lips curled a bit at that. He wasn't one for meaningless flattery, but he didn't mind hearing you say things like that.

“Is that why you're not letting go of me?”

“You don't seem to be doing much to shake me off.”

“I could if I wanted to.”

“So you don't want to?”

You were teasing him. And while he could tease you back, he went for a different approach.

He yanked his wrist out of your grip and grabbed your own wrist just as fast, and lifted you up until you were eye level with him. To say you were flustered by the action would've been an understatement, and your free hand grasped at the arm that held you up to lessen the weight on the arm that he had trapped.

With you partially out of the water, Phinks allowed his eyes to travel over your form, following the trails of water that dripped down your skin and imagining exactly what you looked like under that swimsuit. His grin got wider when he saw your body reacting to the cooler temperature and the way your nipples showed through the material. It hadn't been on his mind when he first approached you, but after spending time with you he found himself liking the idea of fooling around with you. Probably not in the house, and he doubted you would want to do anything in the pool due to that friend of yours you had mentioned. Maybe there was some dark corner around here where he could take you to do what he wanted.

You were squirming a little, trying to free yourself from his grip.

“It's cold,” you whined.

“Yep,” was his reply.

“Come on, let go. I'm only in a swimsuit.”

“You weren't letting me go,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I didn't pull you into the water.”

“Because you're too weak to do that.”

“That's not fair!”

“Don't think this is a situation where fairness matters, sweetheart.”

With that he let you go, and you dropped back down into the pool. You pushed away from the wall after, giving him a slightly sour look.

“Problem?” he asked.

“It's cold,” you repeated.

He just smirked.

“You're gonna need to deal with it at some point,” he told you.

“Yeah, but I wasn't ready for it then!”

You had to have noticed the way he looked at you, right? There was no way you were so oblivious to have not seen how he had blatantly looked you over. Yet you weren't mentioning it.

By now you were more at the center of the pool, pointedly out of his range.

“You done talking?” Phinks asked.

“No, but I don't want you pulling me out again.”

Then you looked away like you were embarrassed.

It clicked for him. You must have liked it, but you were too shy to say anything about it.

Your reluctance was cute, though Phinks knew he'd get tired of that game pretty fast.

“Come back over,” he told you.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

You shook your head.

“You're going to do that again, right?” you asked.

“Maybe.”

“Then no. I don't wanna get out yet.”

“How long are you gonna stay in there?”

“Until I feel like getting out.”

“And if I want you out of there now?”

“Then you'd have to come in and get me.”

…. Oh

That's what it was.

A ploy by you to get him into the pool.

That's what you had to mean by those words, right?

“.... What the hell,” he said to himself as he stood.

It got your attention when he began to remove his clothing, throwing them over to a few neatly folded articles of clothing that sat next to a bag on the patio, which he assumed belonged to you. You were watching him closely, and he could sense a growing interest in you when he removed his shirt. Your eyes lingered a little when you caught sight of his spider tattoo, but there was no hint that you recognized what it meant, which was preferable.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked.

“You were looking at me earlier,” you answered defensively, “you're not allowed to get mad when I do the same.”

“Didn't say I was mad.”

You acknowledging the way he had looked at you then just reaffirmed in his head that you hadn't minded, and after stripping down to his boxers, Phinks jumped in. The water felt just as nice as you had said, but he didn't take much time to focus on it as he was quick to approach you. Within moments, he had wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in close, lifting you a little so you were at eye level with him. You seemed flustered again, but you didn't make any move to get away, and were resting your hands on his chest.

“I don't think you told me your name,” you whispered to him.

“Phinks.”

“Phinks,” you repeated, smiling afterwards, “I like it. It's cool.”

“Thanks,” he replied, “and how 'bout you?”

You gave him your name, which he also repeated to himself.

“Not as cool as 'Phinks', I guess,” you said.

“It suits you,” he said.

You smiled at him, then shifted slightly in his grip.

“Are you just gonna keep holding me?”

“You said I needed to come in and get you.”

“And what did you want to 'get' me for?”

Despite the question, you clearly had an idea of what Phinks was after as you began to move in closer to him. Phinks did the same, and slowly, the gap between the two of you was closed as your lips met together in a kiss.

With the heavy scent of pool chemicals that surrounded you two, it was hard to smell much else, but your lips were soft against his. The kiss was a bit tame for his liking, but he let you do what you wanted for now as you readjusted your arms so they were wrapped around his neck.

One of his hands slid down your back to reach down and squeeze your ass, and you gasped into the kiss. He slipped his tongue into your mouth for a brief moment before you pulled away, your hand over your mouth as you looked away in embarrassment.

“I'm not sure we should do much more here,” you said, glancing up at the house behind him, “there are people watching. I'm not into that.”

“Where do you wanna go?” he asked. It didn't surprise him much that you two might have attracted an audience, and when he heard the door to the patio open from behind him, he chose to ignore it.

“I don't think we'll get much privacy here, so how about my place?” you asked.

“Do you usually bring home strangers?”

“Only the really cool ones.”

He grinned.

You were leaning in to kiss him again when you suddenly froze and turned your attention to something behind Phinks.

“Don't do that!” you yelled.

Phinks turned his head just in time to see his and your clothes land in the water, with the guy who'd invited him – Stu, he remembered – pointing and laughing after having thrown them. The annoying woman from earlier, the one who had whined at him for his can of beer, was also there, standing behind Stu and running off with him towards the gate in the fence.

Phinks saw red.

He let you go and swiftly exited the pool, following after the two even as the chill of the night air nipped at his skin. He barely felt it, and he didn't give a shit that he was running around barefoot either. All of his focus was on catching up to those two assholes who'd dumped his clothes in the pool.

He was angry enough that he didn't notice the sound of feet following after him.

The two perpetrators were in an alleyway between two rows of houses, drunkenly laughing their asses off. Their demeanor didn't change when Phinks caught up to them. The woman actually began to laugh harder, probably because Phinks was still wearing only his boxers.

Stu was trying to contain himself a bit, and put his hands up as an offering of peace.

“Hey man, it wasn't anything personal. Just a prank,” he said, “you can use the dryer, and I'll lend you some clothes-”

His sentence was cut off when Phinks grabbed both sides of his head and twisted it completely around, the cracking of his broken neck ringing out in the empty alley.

The sight of Stu falling to the ground with his head facing the wrong way had the woman instantly sober up, and she looked to Phinks as she opened her mouth to scream.

Barely a whisper of sound was able to escape as he did the same thing to her, and now Phinks was standing half-naked in an alley with two dead bodies.

“Obnoxious fucking people,” he muttered to himself.

Then there was noise that came from behind him.

Phinks turned and saw the other guy who'd been at the gas station on the ground, his arms barely supporting himself as his eyes were wide at the sight of his friends dead before him.

His eyes widened even further when he spotted the spider on Phinks' ribs, clearly recognizing what it meant as he whispered “oh my god.”

Make that three bodies, Phinks thought to himself as he rushed forward to snap his neck as well.

Three bodies that he needed to get rid of. If anyone else from the party came out here and found them, the police would be called immediately. He had no intentions of staying here any longer, but it'd be best to put a bit of distance between himself and the crime scene before the police were inevitably called.

He was dragging the other guy by his ankles and in the process of collecting the woman's body when someone walked out into the alley through one of the other entrances. An older woman, who was definitely not from the party and had come from another house, carrying a bag of trash walked out in front of Phinks, and like the guy right before, her eyes grew wide as she saw the sight of the dead before her.

She made a move to run back to her house, but Phinks picked up a pebble that he infused with nen and launched it at her head. It traveled through her skull and the fencing beside her, and blood sprayed out from the exit wound and splattered onto the fence as well as she fell to the ground.

This was turning into a goddamn mess, and after Phinks had thrown now four bodies over into a different backyard, he heard a voice calling out “mom?” from the direction that the woman with the trash bag had come from.

Fuck this. He needed to go.

When he returned to the backyard to retrieve his clothes, he found you on the patio. You were holding his jacket over the concrete, desperately trying to wring out the water that had soaked it completely. You were visibly shivering as you did so, with goosebumps running up your arms and your teeth chattering. He noticed his pants hanging off the fence that surrounded the patio, and while they weren't dry by any means, you had clearly done your best to get the water out of them. Meanwhile your own clothes laid in a soggy heap by your equally soaked bag.

You noticed him when he walked closer.

“I'm sorry,” you told him. You looked guilty for some reason.

“You didn't do it,” Phinks said, considerably calmer now.

“No. But I made a big deal about you getting in with me, and with Stu around I should've been paying attention. I'm really, really sorry.”

He was about to tell you to stop apologizing when he heard a shout coming from the direction of the alleyway.

Fuck. He forgot that he needed to leave.

Luckily you were the only one who noticed, as the rest of the party goers still had the doors and windows securely shut. He pulled on his pants and his sopping wet tank top, and the sensation of wearing those wet clothes was just as unpleasant as he had anticipated. At least his shoes were still dry.

You were still holding his jacket, looking confused as you looked off in the direction where you'd heard that voice. Phinks was about to just take it from you and leave, but when he looked you over again, he thought over the things you two had talked about, the things you had said and how you'd acted around him, and he came to a split second decision.

Grabbing your clothes and bag, he shoved them into your hands before he grabbed one of your arms and pulled you after him. You seemed startled, but you didn't question him as you were too surprised to think of anything to say. He led you out through the backyard and down to where he had parked his car, opening the passenger side door and pushing you inside. He then walked around to the driver's side, and within moments you both were speeding out of the neighborhood.

By the time he came to the highway there was a strong smell of pool chemicals that filled the car, and both of the front seats were slowly soaking up the excess water that dripped off of the two of you.

You seemed to be in a mild state of shock, as you had yet to say anything. You just sat in your still wet swimsuit looking rather confused while you still held onto the soaked clothing Phinks had forced onto you.

After a while you shuddered and finally spoke up.

“Do you think you could turn up the heat?” you asked him.

“Oh. Sure. Sorry.”

Phinks turned the heat up all the way, and after a few moments you seemed to relax a bit, though now you were glancing over at him while smiling nervously.

“Uh, so, there's a lot that I should probably be questioning,” you began, “but I'll start with if you knew why there was yelling?”

Should he lie? No, that might be weird if he pretended not to know.

“I punched that guy in the face. I think I broke his nose,” he told you, “that was likely his friend after he saw him.”

“Ah. Okay,” you said, “that's..... Not very good, but I think I get why you did that. You're gonna get charged with assault, though.”

Fat chance.

“I'll deal with that when I come to that,” he answered, “sorry if I put you in a tough position.”

“It's okay. Well, not really. But Stu's pranks have always been pretty bad and what he did was shitty, so I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Think you can forgive me?”

“... Yeah, I think so. Just promise you won't do anything like that again.”

“I promise.”

“Okay,” you said as you nodded, “so second question: where are we going?”

“.... Not sure. Didn't have much of a plan besides getting out of there and going back to what I was doing,” Phinks admitted.

“So you're just back to driving around going wherever?”

“Seems like it.”

“Why did you bring me along?” you asked.

“.... Didn't want that to be the last time I saw you,” he said.

“Oh.....”

His answer ended up making you flustered again, and while you did seem to be holding some reservations about him with his admission of violence and the fact that he really had just kidnapped you, he could see you rationalizing everything in your mind and convincing yourself that this wasn't all that bad.

It was preferable if you did that. It made taking you with him a lot easier.

“Luckily for me I don't work tomorrow,” you said, “and since the day after that is Sunday and the campus store isn't open then, I also have that day off. So I think it's okay if I drive around with you for a bit. Just get me back by Sunday night, alright?”

“Don't worry. I'll get you back safe and sound,” he told you, and you visibly relaxed at his words.

You were a little naive, a little too trusting. But that was fine. Phinks liked that about you.

“Okay so third question,” you announced as you looked down at the wet clothes in your lap, “what should we do about this?”

“Right. Let me pull over.”

He stopped the car beneath a streetlight, and you sat sideways on the passengers seat while you held the clothes out of the car and wrung the water out of them as best you could. Phinks took the opportunity to change after you handed him his jacket, and he threw the mostly damp clothes in the backseat.

Glancing over at you, he did appreciate how much your swimsuit showed off while you tried to dry out your own clothes. But while he liked the idea of you staying as you were for the rest of the trip, you probably wouldn't be as big of a fan of that. Going over to his trunk once more, he dug around through his bag before he found what he was looking for.

“I don't have anything that will fit you well,” Phinks said as he made his way over to you, “but this should cover you up.”

What he handed you was the long white robe he wore on occasion, usually for combat or missions.

You seemed a bit surprised when you saw it, but you accepted it gratefully. Your gaze went to the jeweled eye that hung near the neck of the garment, and he heard you mumble about it being pretty.

He wondered briefly what you might think of the snake headpiece he usually wore with it, but the time for that would come later as you were currently slipping his robe over your head.

“Thank you,” you told him again as you threw your clothing in the back as well.

Then your attention went to your bag, and you frowned.

“What's wrong?”

In response to his question, you tilted your bag to the side and water began to pour out of it.

“Ah.”

“How much do you wanna bet that my phone is dead?” you asked as you reached inside.

As was expected, your phone screen stayed black when you hit the power button, and you sighed.

“And that's phone number three that Stu has destroyed.”

“Don't worry. It won't happen again,” he told you.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

You tossed the now useless phone into your bag and looked back up to him as if to say “so what now?”

Phinks had an idea for that.

“Wanna go to a motel?”

“A motel? Wow, you sure know how to treat someone,” you said sarcastically.

“You really think I can get you into a nice hotel with you looking like that? You don't even have shoes,” he said.

“I didn't get a chance to grab them,” you responded, though you seemed to concede a bit.

“Could we stop somewhere tomorrow so I can get shoes or something?”

“I'll buy you a whole new wardrobe if that's what you want.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head and saying that you didn't need that.

Before too long, Phinks was back in the drivers seat while you watched the streetlights as the car passed them by, your fingers idly playing with the jewel on his robes as you did so. He had turned down the heat and turned on the radio, and though it still felt strange to be sitting in the wet seats, it wasn't bothering either of you as much anymore. The smell from the pool was mostly gone after driving a bit with the windows opened just a crack.

Except for the occasional car that drove in the opposite direction, you were the only ones on the highway.

“How far are you gonna drive?” you eventually asked.

He wanted to get out of the state at least. Phinks didn't want to deal with a confrontation with the law while also taking you along with him. He wanted to get as far as he could while you were still cooperative, and whenever you realized that there was no chance he'd be taking you back, he'd go to more extreme measures of keeping you with him. Your phone being dead was a good thing for him; you wouldn't be able to try and get help as easily.

“I think we've passed by three or four motels already,” you added, “was there something wrong with them?”

“No. Sorry. I got a bit distracted,” Phinks replied, “I've come to really like the highway at night. There's something soothing about it, I guess. Wanted to stay like this for a bit longer.”

You nodded in response and looked back out the window, your fingers still playing with the jeweled eye.

“Can I borrow your phone at some point tomorrow? I need to call someone just so everyone back home knows I'm okay. Don't want them to worry,” you said to him.

“Sure,” he said.

Arguing with you over that would seem strange. He'd just need to avoid that subject tomorrow.

He noticed when you yawned.

“Getting tired?” he asked.

“A little,” you said, laughing a little as you added, “this wasn't how I was expecting my night to go.”

“Same here.”

“I hope you decide to stop soon. I might not be up for it tonight if you're planning on continuing where we left off at the pool when we reach that motel.”

“That's fine. We'll have all day tomorrow, right?”

His words made you embarrassed again, and you shyly answered with a yes as you smiled to yourself.

So that was the plan, then. Drive as far as he could tonight, fuck your brains out tomorrow, then get away further before you figured things out. You would likely object, not liking the idea of being taken away from everything you'd ever known. But he was certain that after spending enough time with him, you'd prefer it. Your current life wasn't any good, but he was prepared for you to not understand that at first. And if he needed to tie you up and shove you into the trunk to keep you compliant, he could do that. Seemed like a pretty fool-proof plan.

You were yawning again.

“Get some sleep if you need to,” he said, “I'll wake you up when I find a place I like.”

You nodded. Soon after he saw you settling back into the seat and closing your eyes as you attempted to get some rest.

He liked the sight of you next to him, sitting in his clothes while you nodded off in his car. And when he turned his attention back to the empty highway, he was once again hit with the feeling like he was the only one in the world. A feeling that only came with seeing an area that was typically full of people seem completely abandoned.

But this time, though, he wasn't alone.