#and i usually get lost in the sauce once i start experiencing a story so... yeah

[mercymaker]

i think i'm just gonna rawdog veilguard when it comes out and have it as my first dragon age game oops

scale 0-10 how bad idea?

[enneamage]

what sort of crisis of conscience do you think tommy might be experiencing or about to experience?

I can’t know how it’s going to manifest, or if maybe he’ll turn it into a kind of positive productivity and ride through it, but I see some of the bits and pieces that seem to point to one.

The first thing is he’s either started to independently question or has been called out on his more ‘manipulative’ YouTube tactics, making him more uncomfortable with them. I’m using the word manipulative because even his friends call what he does manipulation; he knows how to drive for a result in an algorithm and he knows how to use people to do it. Tommy can be very tactical when he’s got a motivation and knows the ins and outs. The thing is, his aggressive algorithm wrangling (on top of a global pandemic) has already brought him a fortune and blown his fame sky-high, so he isn’t fighting as single-mindedly for that goal anymore. Usually when someone achieves a decade long hunt for something they can be kind of vulnerable to feeling aimless or disoriented. While Tommy does seem to be holding onto his motivation, he seems more open to criticism on how he got to the top to begin with.

It's interesting because right now he seems to be in two places at once—he’s wary of the Mr. Beast-ification of online content because the sameiness is boring and he says he understands that working to conform to a formula can be uninspiring. At the same time, he’s sticking to what he knows works (which is at least somewhat formulaic) and is branching out slowly, save for his experiments this year. I don’t blame him for being afraid to loose what he has, but it does make me wonder which instinct is going to win out, and how he’s going to feel about it as he works.

(There’s a pitfall here that I’ve been eyeing, he might start to make the 'artist' mistake of getting frustrated that the audience doesn’t change their preferences to make better-smarter-different-ect content absurdly popular instead. If he puts the responsibility on the audience to change their behavior rather than giving himself permission to do less popular stuff, he could get very resentful.)

The most obvious tell (for me) is that Tommy will ask “am I a bad person” without much prompting, or say offhanded lines that suggest that it’s a question that’s been on his mind. That’s pretty heavy stuff, but it’s a sign he’s been self-reflecting. He’s talked about watching video essays about himself and has implied that they’re less than flattering, at least sometimes. He jokes about being an above-the-law asshole over-wealthy youtuber in his kind of inscrutable way where you can’t quite tell if it’s genuine arrogance or if he’s setting himself up for failure as an absurd joke. He’s got at least one story where he said he laughed a bit too hard and a bit too long at jokes about him being depressed. He’s adopted Bo Burnham, and lord knows the baggage that comes with that—Bo knows how to do social critique, but he’s also lost in the sauce of his own shame & self-loathing.

I can’t know what exactly he’s thinking or where he’s headed next, but I think he’s heading into a questioning period in his life, and there’s a lot of room for that to develop into questions about what his ethics really are.

[underworld-of-imagines]

Darkness - Spencer Reid

Prompt: You’re blind and live with Spencer.

TW: Burns, pain, blindness

A/N: Hey guys, so this has been the first thing I’ve written in a while. I got a new job, so writing has been few and far between lately. This was just an idea of something I could write without too much trouble because I have experienced temporary blindness. I hope you guys enjoy!

A gentle melody danced through the air, the speakers of Spencer’s old radio gently cracking as the song became louder towards the chorus. Your hips swayed to the beat, a soft hum passing your lips as you mimicked the familiar tune. It was one of your favourite songs, something you played to go along with whatever you were doing, reminding you of happiness and home. You could almost imagine the colours that came through the speakers and danced along with the soundwaves.

Almost.

In reality, you had long since forgotten what colours looked like, having been many years since you had last seen them. Leaving you to your very powerful, yet also weak imagination, to imagine the colours that once dominated your life.

Now, you were permanently blind. A genetic curse that ran in your family, blinding only the most courageous of the bloodline. At least, that’s how your father explained it to you when you were only 9 years old, and almost entirely blind.

When you first met Spencer Reid, you were in a coffee shop, trying to find your way towards the counter. He blurted out random facts about blindness, astonishing you with his genius, whilst drinking coffee together.

One year later, you were officially a couple (though you had been living together since before he asked you out officially).

Now, you tried to take care of the apartment, and contribute to your part of the costs.

Admittedly, sometimes that got really difficult to manage. Like tonight, for example. Spencer had been on a case for the past week, your nightly calls with him showed how much the case was weighing down on him. He spared you of many details, trying to keep your child-like memory of humanity intact. But sometimes it got hard for him, like this case, making you feel useless to his humanity-saving crusade.

So, you decided to attempt to make him dinner. His favourite spaghetti bolognese. It wasn’t too hard to make, mostly everything was prepared, and you had taken extra time to listen to the ingredients and instructions. Everything had to be perfect.

Sighing, you desperately tried to find the diced carrot in the fridge. In an attempt to make your life a bit easier, Spencer had started to cut up the fruits and vegetables he bought – for “safety” as he called it. Honestly, it warmed your heart that he cared so much. Admittedly, yes, it was disabling, but you also didn’t care as it reduced your risk of cutting your finger off by accident.

You dumped a cup of diced carrot into the sauce mixture, the aroma of the bolognese sauce filling your apartment as you reached for the wooden spoon to carefully stir the sauce again. Not much longer and I can start the pasta, you thought as you placed the spoon gently on the side.

Holding your hand out to your side, you guided yourself around the island counter, feeling carefully for the bar chairs that were often haphazardly left out. One too many times had you stubbed your small toe on the wooden chairs, which always resulted in violent swearing, and Spencer trying to give you first aid to help with your bruised toes. To you surprise, you had yet to break a toe on a random piece of furniture you kicked, though you crossed your fingers and knocked on wood.

A loud ringing brought you out of your daze, the alarm for the pasta sauce had already gone off, indicating that it was time to start cooking the pasta.  “Siri set a timer for one minute,” you commanded as you placed the pot of cold water on to boil. Your phone beeped in response, and you could barely hear the soft ticking over the sound of the music that still emanated from the radio.

Spencer was due to be home any minute, and you couldn’t wait to hug him again. When you were in Spencer’s arms, it always felt like home, in the best way possible.

Listening to the timer go off, you smiled to yourself as you felt around for the pot, before pouring the pasta in. Setting another timer for eight minutes, you stirred the pasta and sauce quickly before going to sit back down on the stool.

Faintly, you could hear car horns and just a general bustle from the streets below, nothing really new, and a sound you had grown accustomed to over the years. A light elevator ding could be heard from out in the hallway, and your heart raced with the thought of it being Spencer. But alas, it was not as no sound of the door opening came as you waited patiently.

Once the timer went off, you toddled back to the stove, carefully turning off the knobs before grabbing the pot of pasta. Draining the pasta was always a challenge, as you couldn’t be sure of where the strainer was in the sink, and Spencer usually helped with this part.

Scalding water landed on your hand as you poured the pasta into the strainer, making you drop it out of shock.

“Fuck!” You held your hand tightly, wrapping your shirt around it to try and stop the burning sensation.

“Y/N!” Spencer yelled out as he walked in the door, you could hear him drop is bags before running over to you. “Give me your hand, you have to run it under warm water,” he urged, trying to grab the burnt hand from your tight clutch. Reluctantly, you let go, allowing him to guide you to the sink before turning on the warm water.

“Hold it there, I’ll go get the first aid kit,” he instructed. The warm water burned your hand even more, making tears well in your eyes at the pain. “Just keep holding it there for about 15 minutes, I’ve got burn cream and bandages for once it’s done. I also found your Panadol from the cabinet; I’ll get you some.” Spencer explained. Usually he was very reluctant to give you Panadol, simply due to his own experience with his addiction. But whenever he did, he watched carefully to make sure that you wouldn’t have a bad experience.

“Spence-” you croaked, your voice cracking from the pain.

“It’s okay darling, you’ll be okay.” He soothed, his hand gently stroking your hair. “I’ll finish dinner, don’t worry.”

A while later, he guided you over to the table, the plates already served and laid out for you. Your hand now wrapped in a bandage, burn cream applied thanks to Spencer’s very thorough first aid.

“How was the case?” You asked after a few minutes of silence.

“It was okay, we managed to catch the unsub before he killed another victim.” Spencer said in a quiet voice, he didn’t like talking to you about cases, it was two separate worlds, and he wanted to keep it that way.

“That’s good, she’ll be okay right?” Spencer hummed in response, one that you knew meant eventually. It always warmed your heart to know that the victims would be okay, eventually.

*****

“I hate going away,” he broke the silence as you laid next to him in bed.

“Why’s that?” You asked, resting your head and bandaged hand on his bare chest.

“Because it means leaving you. And I’m always terrified that you could get hurt, like today. Or something else could go wrong and I wouldn’t be here to protect you.” Spencer’s chest wracked as soft sobs started to fall from his lips.

“Spence-,” you soothed, rubbing your hands through his hair gently. “Accidents happen, even to people who can see. Yes, I am a bit more accident-prone than most abled people. But I can still take care of myself when you’re not here.” His head rested gently on top of yours, tears soaking your scalp. “If it makes you feel better though, I do like when you’re here to help me out. Especially tonight, I don’t think I would have been able to do any of that without your help.”

Spencer drew in a deep breath before speaking, “that does help, thank you.” You continued to run your hand through his hair, rubbing his scalp gently. His hair was soft between your fingers, his curls catching gently as you brushed them out.

“Can you read to me?” You asked once Spencer had calmed down a bit.

“Of course, Y/N, what story do you want to hear today?” Spencer shuffled a bit, and you could hear rustling from his bedside table, which was often covered with books and papers.

“Can you read some more Harry Potter to me?” Before you went blind, you loved the Harry Potter series. You had even managed to read the first book by yourself, before you lost your sight completely.

“Of course, we’re up to book 3 now, I’ll just go grab it.” Spencer didn’t read a lot of newer fictional books but kept a bookcase of them for you. Some were even in braille, so you could read them yourself. But it was your favourite when Spencer read to you.

“Okay I got it,” his soft footsteps padded through the room, back to his side of the bed. Laying down, you got comfortable on his chest again as he opened the book.

“Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways.”

[pineapplesagainstpizza]

Magnus Pies: A TMA Pizza AU

-  All the entities and supernatural creatures still exist but it happens in a pizza place called the “Magnus Pies ®” established by Jonah Magnus.

- Jon is the new, under qualified manger. Very good a diffusing arguments and misinformation with customers. Practically a living coupon fraud detector. Once Martin overheard Jon use the phrase “please calm down” to a customer. Thinking that this would escalate the conversation, Martin braced himself from the kitchen. He was spooked quite a bit that the customer did calm down. He can’t tell if Jon is just that charming or if he can hypnotize people.

- Jon actually had some sliver of respect for Martin when they first met. Up until, he caught Martin whispering "Looking good little guys" to the pizzas baking in the oven. Jon has never looked at him the same since.

- Martin has mastered the customer service voice. In fact, it’s permanent. Every time he answers the phone, his voice automatically sweetens. Sasha and Tim have made fun of him for it. Working at Magnus Pies has broken him so much.

- Tim works the register. Flirts with customers so that they’ll come back. Can’t stand slow days. It’s actually Tim that makes the best pizza out of the crew.

- Ft. Sasha the pizza delivery girl. Eldritch horrors won’t stop her from delivering your pizza on time.

- Elias is the owner and hardly ever shows up.

- Instead of statement givers the customers will just overshare their supernatural encounters to the staff. Jon doesn’t think anything of people sharing their ghost stories to him. He writes it off as desperate customers craving any source of human interaction. Despite this, he remembers every tale a customer has told him.

- “Then after I kissed him, his body combusted into flames.”

“Sorry to hear that... That will be 17.89. ″

- There’s this one customer that orders questionable pizzas with special delivery instructions and has his pizza delivery scheduled every Wednesday at 5 pm. His requests went from a little strange to down right outlandish. One of his first orders, he instructed them to make a smiley face out of the pepperonis because he was “having a bad day.” One of his most recent orders was “a cheese-less pizza cheese pizza.” In the delivery instructions, he explains his doorbell is broken and suggests the delivery person to drop the pizza off in the middle of the yard and then “yell whatever feels right” to alert him of the pizza’s presence. Sasha often wonders if she has to cater to all his odd demands.

- The first time Sasha delivers to his house, the GPS malfunctioned? The customer’s house resides in a new residential area. So once she drove past the last known road, the GPS advised her to park her car and walk to her destination. She obviously ignored the computer automated voice and eventually found the house on her own. Since he always commands the delivery runner to drop the pizza outside his house, Sasha has never seen his face but the name he orders under is Micheal. (If that’s even his real name.)

- Is the pizza good? The reviews are mixed. Martin says “its fine”. Sasha thinks “it’s pretty good for the price.” Tim, on the other hand, is fully convinced that when Jonah Magnus created Magnus pizza, he had never eaten a pizza before in his life. He claims "the pizza is two hell circles away from mediocrity." If a person asked Elias, he would maintain that Magnus Pie pizza is of high quality, but the staff have never seen him eaten it before. As for Jon, he refuses to try it.

- The uniforms are pretty cute. A  transparent green tennis visor paired with a black collared shirt with logo on the right upper chest portion.

- This one time, someone spray painted a satanic circle in the parking lot and Elias botched and moaned about it for a week about how "it was driving customers away." He stops complaining about it after an angry goth boxed an old man on top of the circle one afternoon. Their fight drove in a crowd. Some people even bought a slice just to get a good view of the fight. Jon, of course, called the authorities but both parties fled before they arrived.

- Martin finds a homemade employee training tape from the 1980s hiding in the closet. It features an instructional video on how to make the pizzas but the employee or paid actress?? featured in the video disregards Magnus Pies’s official pizza guidelines™ and instead gives advice/ tips on how to cut corners (and arguably offers more valuable advice to employees). “Yeah I know the recipe calls for this much cheese but i always add to more handfuls. Most customers complain about how there isn’t nearly enough cheese -- how it’s practically tomato sauce with cheese sprinkles.” Whether it’s the dread in the lady’s eyes or the neglect of company policies, the tape is unfinished. The video cuts off after she places the pizza in the oven.

- Martin thinks the the training video is hilarious, so of course, he shares it with the rest of the staff. It’s Sasha that points out that one of the employees in the background looks like a younger version of Elias. A passionate debate breaks out on whether that person is actually Elias, but ends once Jon points out that Elias has complete heterochromia and the teenage boy in the video does not. 

- On a team building trip, Martin, Sasha, and Tim admit that they are glad Jon joined the team. Ever since he joined, the workplace has never been so lively. They all agree Jon’s presence attracts the unusual. Though he will never admit it, Jon found it touching.

- Some customers would describe the pizza joint as “eerily clean.” "The vibes are simply rancid” says one customer. Even with the speaker churning out today’s hottest pop hits (in a muffled tone), it is entirely too quiet. The atmosphere is dead,” says another. 

- “Little human activity and huge open spaces makes it somewhat spectral but the short wait times and fair food always brings me back. ⭐⭐⭐��� - a google review from a town local

- One person gave them a bad review on Yelp. After they were done insulting the food, they moved on to assess the staff. “I’m usually not the type to complain/nit pick about employees but there was one that made me extremely uncomfortable. He wasn’t the warmest person, had an awfully posh accent, and sported dark circles under his eyes. When I spoke to him, his gaze was intense and unwavering. Throughout the entire conversation, he didn’t blink once. Even as a sat down, I could still feel his eyes lingering on me. I’m not an insecure person in the slightest but being watched like that, made me self conscious of my own breathing. I spun around once to see if he was staring at me, but to my surprise, he wasn’t. I may have never caught him staring at me, but I know he did. The sensation of being watched never ceased afterward. (half star emoji) ”

- Apparently, the joint has been open since the 1940s and despite the bad food and less than average traffic of customers, they’re still in business. There’s rumors that the Magnus Pie receives generous donations from Elias’s rich ex-lover that misses him dearly.

- Starring several disagreements/ arguments with customers. Just a bunch of misinformation that was spread by Elias to lure people into the building to feed the Eye.

- Sasha is late returning from a delivery one day, and after an hour they try to contact her. She’s unresponsive. Elias goes looking for her but comes back short. Later that night, they get a call from the hospital informing them that Sasha got into a car accident and fell unconscious upon impact. Sasha comes in for a shift a few weeks later, and nobody realizes she’s not Sasha. 

- The Magnus Pies’s odd reputation attracts the attention of popular YouTuber, Melanie King. She eventually becomes a regular in hopes of catching a supernatural event on camera for her channel. After experiencing a handful of odd encounters, she becomes engrossed by the place and starts working there in hopes of piecing together an explanation for the pizzeria’s paranormal activities. She later regrets this.

- has the potential to be a good tragicomedy

[joe-mazzello-archive]

Agape - Chapter Two

A Joe Mazzello x Fem!Reader fic

Rating: 18+

Chapter Two

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, References to throwing up, Masturbation (f)

Word Count: 1790

A/N: The second half of this fic may be entirely based on my night the other night. Who’s to say.

Normally you spent the weeks leading up to a new project by yourself, studying anything you needed to study, watching footage of performances that would serve as inspiration, and taking the time to center yourself before spending weeks portraying someone else. But this time you found yourself cleaning your house and cooking as you prepped for company. You cursed under your breath as your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. You snoozed the timer you had set, realizing you now only had about thirty minutes until people were due to arrive.

This was all Joe’s fault. You’re not sure why you gave in so easily to his pouting about the dumb meatballs. Although you did have to admit, you were looking forward to spending time with him outside of work again. Before your chemistry read with him, you hadn’t seen him in months. You did enjoy his company, and his chaotic nature usually led to some funny stories to tell later.

You checked on the food, the meatballs now continuing to cook in your homemade tomato sauce. You took a big whiff, inhaling the amazing scent. You took a lot of pride in your family’s recipe, and you always made sure to honor every step, down to the teaspoon. You turned the heat down low, allowing the meatballs and sauce to continue to stay warm until the guests arrived.

You weren’t expecting too many people. Joe was obviously attending, along with Aaron and their other friend Manny. You had invited Leah, as well as another castmate Briana, hoping to balance out the level of testosterone in the house. Briana had cancelled last minute, but luckily Leah planned on coming.

About twenty minutes later, your doorbell rang. You opened the door to reveal the three young males, each carrying a six-pack of beer. You leaned to the side of the door frame.

“You guys get a group rate or something?” you quipped before moving to allow the men to enter your house. Leah arrived a few moments later, holding a bottle of wine.

Drinks were poured, food was served, and laughs were had. As much as you had originally wanted to be alone prepping for production to start, you had to admit that you were enjoying your time. You found yourself feeling relaxed almost immediately, especially in the presence of such good company. After finishing dinner, the group spread out amongst the living room, with you finding a seat in the middle of the couch, sandwiched between Joe and Aaron. Stories were shared, from the boys talking about antics while filming Undrafted to you talking about drunken shenanigans from you and Aaron’s theatre days.

“So he’s holding on to my hair, drink in his hand while I puke up everything in my body--”

“I was like, ‘you do you, girl’,” Aaron adds, opening another beer.

“And once I was done I apparently stood up, struck a pose, and walked out of the bathroom and just continued dancing.” The group erupted in laughter at the story.

“She looked like a gymnast who just landed a flip. It was incredible,” Aaron continued, recreating the pose himself.

“I wish I remembered more of that night. It was insane,” you said, leaning back in your seat.

“Broadway parties sound like so much fun. Maybe I should rethink this whole LA thing,” Leah replied before taking a sip of wine.

“Oh yeah, it’s great...if you want to do more work and make less money,” you replied with a sigh. “But I do miss it sometimes.”

“All I know is that I’m looking forward to experiencing you drunk during our wrap party,” Joe inserted. You rolled your eyes and smiled.

“I see right through you, Mazzello. You’re determined to get me to sing karaoke with you and it’s not going to happen,” you said, poking Joe in the chest.

“We shall see,” he responded, taking a sip of his beer.

As the night started to wind down, you excused yourself to the kitchen to get a head start on cleaning up. You were sealing a tupperware container of leftovers when you sensed someone enter the kitchen behind you. You had a feeling you knew who it was, and you turned around to find your suspicions were correct.

“If I help you clean up, can I go home with some of those leftovers?” Joe asked, arms folded across his chest while standing in the door frame. You laughed, shook your head, and turned to reveal a second tupperware container before handing it to him.

“I had a feeling you’d want some. No helping required,” you said before turning back to the messy counter.

“Well too bad, I’m going to help you anyway. It’s the least I can do since I basically forced you to make these for me,” Joe countered as he set the container down and picked up a dirty dish. You smiled and decided not to put up a fight, and the two of you washed the remainder of the dishes in comfortable silence while the rest of your guests conversed in the other room.

After another hour of chatting, your guests decided to call it a night. You said exchanged goodbye hugs with each of them, thanking them for coming and while they thanked you for the hospitality.

Since you had gotten most of the cleaning done while your guests were still there, you didn’t have much to do besides settle in for the night. You elected to take a nice relaxing bath before bed, deciding to use one of the bath bombs you had picked up a few weeks back.

After turning on the water to start filling the tub, you got to work on making the scene even more relaxing. You lit a few candles around your bathroom and threw together a quick playlist of calming music. You grabbed a final glass of wine before shedding your clothes and heading into the bathroom.

Once the tub was full, you tossed your bath bomb in, let it fizzle a little, and climbed into the warm tub. The heat of the water immediately felt amazing and relaxed you almost instantly. As you sank into the tub, you let out a long sigh and got comfortable.

You sat in the tub for a good fifteen minutes, slowly sipping wine and enjoying the atmosphere around you. The music, the aromas, and the soft lighting were the perfect end to a good day.

You slid your hands down your thighs to feel the softness that the ingredients of the bath bomb were creating, and the touch got you a bit excited. To be fair, it had been a little while for you, so you were a little sensitive. You had broken up with your most recent ex a few months ago and had been on a dry spell since. You figured now, while you were settling down for the night, was as good a time as any to take care of yourself.

You worked your hand down to your crotch and gently ran your fingers over your slit. You started to draw little gentle circles around the area, taking it slow as you decided what to think about. You drifted up towards your clit and the first touch caused you to almost shiver; you were obviously very sensitive. It must have been awhile since you touched yourself, too. You began to stroke your clit a little harder while you closed your eyes and let your head fall back. You started to try to picture someone taking care of this for you. You got a little bit faster and harder with your rubs, starting to feel that familiar sensation building in your core. You pictured long fingers between your legs, touching you just how you liked it. You thought about someone’s lips along your neck and their skin on your skin. You thought about them whispering in your ear, their breath hot against the sensitive skin.

“Does that feel good, baby?”

“Oh, Joe,” you moaned out loud. Suddenly the smoke cleared and your redheaded co-star’s face filled your head. Your touch got faster and harder while you chased your pleasure, your mind imagining one person and one person only: Joseph Mazzello. You wondered how his lips would feel on yours. You thought about running your hands through his hair, yanking on it while he brought you closer to the edge. You imagined him plunging a finger inside of you and crooking it just the right way as he rubbed your clit mercilessly.

And suddenly you were coming against your own hand, hips bucking as you rode out the waves of pleasure.

Once you finally were able to catch your breath, reality smacked you in the face. Did you just masturbate to Joe Mazzello?

“Well shit,” you said out loud.

You didn’t spend much longer in the tub. You were too lost in your thoughts to appreciate the calmness of the room anymore. You dried off, blew out the candles, turned off the music, and opened the tub drain.

Towel wrapped around your body, you downed the rest of your glass of wine, your mind racing. Between how he made you blush the other day, how you gave in to his meatball request so easily, and your session just moments ago, it was safe to say you were starting to develop a crush.

You sighed to yourself. Predictable. You always developed crushes on your co-stars. What was it about actors in Hollywood that made you go weak in the knees so quickly? It happened every time. Part of it was definitely your attraction to talent; seeing someone perform art in any form was a huge turn on for you. But you were so tired of this.

Especially since in recent years it had affected your image. Your last four relationships were with people you met working on projects. After your last break-up, you saw several tabloids splashing your name and picture across their covers. “Another day, another break up with a co-star,” they wrote. You had tried not to let it get to you. But you saw how bad Taylor Swift was always treated when she jumped from relationship to relationship. You hated being seen in that light too. You hated that people were more focused on your social life than the work you were doing.

As you settled into bed, you tried to turn your attention to literally anything else. But your mind kept going back to Joe. His dumb smile. His dumb laugh. His dumb face. Ugh. You’ve always acknowledged the fact that he was attractive. But now you were seeing things you hadn’t seen before.

This project was going to be even more challenging than you thought.

[the-gunslock]

Hiver 7 - Infinite

This is a story about reality and my meeting of the one who stands against those who threaten it.

“Honey? Amanda?”

The awoken woman called to the dark. No answer.

“Trinity?”

The little light never appeared. She looked around frantically.

“Selene! Reyla! ...Junko? Uh, Luna?”

The ground to her feet had begun to shift into a blocky, dull grey platform. The ambient around her had turned into a stone and metal room with rectangular, jagged edges. After a while of looking, she spots a dash of burnt blonde hair. Relieved, she runs to meet it.

“Amanda!” She says, ecstatic to see a familiar face, specially her lover’s.

But, to her dismay, no response.

“Honey?” She starts tearing up in desperation. She waves a hand in front of her face and snaps her fingers.

Nothing.

Then she reaches out.

Immediately she is met with a wall of intense solar energy that causes her to stumble backwards. As she regains her vision, she sees that the image of Amanda had burnt away and in its place…

Spun a Harpy. Not a common one -- its eye and shell glowed a bright, phased blue, and it was much larger. The Warlock had only heard dreadful stories about them, from Guardians more experienced than her.

Gorgons.

Vex constructs that patrolled a cave inside the Vault of Glass and held the power to define what is real or not.

Its bright, ice-blue eye gazed into Hiver’s soul as it started to give a deafening, almost pained, mechanically-filtered shriek and released pulsating red energy in all directions.

She was paralyzed. Tears started to roll down her eyes as she struggled to bring her hand to eye level, watching her body be deconstructed in white simulation particles.

Feeling like her existence was little more than… a nuisance. A speck of dust that needs to be sweeped away.

As she sobbed at the extinguishing light of this cursed creature, she started to hear a faint sound.

“..er.”

A voice? Couldn’t be.

“Ier.”

She had almost lost her entire body now. Fear overcame her as she felt the disintegration reach her neck--

“Hiver.”

The voice clearly said her name now, but she couldn’t do anything.

“HIVER!” The Shipwright’s husky voice called to her, with a load of worry on top of it. Hiver gasped awake to see Amanda’s face close to hers, her fingertips tapping against her cheek.

It’s sunrise. The light grazes the clouds with a soft touch, making the whole sky purple.

She rolled onto her back and brushed her hair out of her forehead, sobbing uncontrollably. Amanda softly wiped the tears from her nose and temples, sitting her up and hugging her tightly, trying to appease her crying.

“You’re okay, babe. Everythin’s alright.” She says, alternating it with soothing ‘shh’ noises with her mouth. Hiver is hiccuping so much she can barely breathe right, let alone say a word.

After reattaching her mechanical leg to her thigh, she takes her girlfriend’s hand and helps her stumble to the kitchen. The blonde sits her down on the island’s chairs and gets her a cup of water so she can normalize her breathing. While the Warlock gulps it down, the Shipwright stands beside her, caressing her hair. She tries asking her what she saw, knowing from her that Awoken tend to experience extremely vivid dreams.

Good or not.

Hiver started to tell the dream the best she could, trying to catch her breath and staring vacantly at the water cup.

“I… I-I was alone. Unknown place. It was… Vex built. cough I saw you, called out to you. You turned into… a… a Gorgon. I had to… sigh, stand still as… as it stared into me... and, and slowly deleted me from existence.”

Amanda hugs her from behind and smooches the top of her head.

“I…” Hiver blurted out, putting the cup down. “I felt... every second of it. And I heard your voice calling to me. Couldn’t answer. Couldn’t do anything. Not even say ‘I love you’. Or ‘goodbye’.”

Amanda sighs. “Babe, you ain’t in a simulation. You’re here, with me, where it’s safe. You ain’t gonna need to say goodbye. Okay?”

The Awoken girl opens a smile. “Okay.” She replies as she starts feeling better, and gets up to face her girlfriend. Both of them walk together to the bedroom.

“I might need proof of that, though.” She continues, sitting back on the bed. Amanda sighs, just wanting to use her precious hours of sleep.

“Hiver…” She says tiredly as they lie down again. “What proof do ya want? It’s like... 5 in the morning.”

Hiver giggles as she pulls the blanket over them both again. Her face close to Amanda’s once more, she blinks and puckers up for a second before going back to her calm grin. Getting the message, Amanda pulls her closer for a ‘sleep well’ kiss while caressing her hair once more, Hiver gently scratching her back under her tank top.

Both of them having relaxed, they happily drift off together once more. Hiver has an idea for what she’s doing the next day.

It’s now noon, and everyone is at their workstations. The Chief Shipwright is having difficulties understanding what happened to the Sparrow in front of her. It clearly had not been treated well, giving that most of its hull was missing and the engine metal was completely fried. Whoever used this was a worse pilot than Hiver, and it’s saying something.

Amanda was using a datapad to scan the ill-fated vehicle in front of her, trying to assess whether she could order spare parts to repair the thing, or if it would have to be scrapped entirely and sell the owner a new one. Either way, it wasn’t gonna be easy or cheap.

“My Light, why do Guardians always do the stupidest Sparrow stunts? They forget someone has to fix their mess?” She mumbles to herself while her stomach grumbles in anger. “Damnit. Guess I’ll just grab ramen real fast or something… I don’t know. Ugh, this job.” Luckily, her Guardian angel appears just at the right time, wearing her usual black duster, Black Armory boots and gauntlets, and big smile on her face.

“Amanda!” The Guardian called out, carrying a black, aluminium-like case by the handle in her hand, jogging towards the Shipwright.

“Hey darling, what’s up?” She greets before noticing the case she is carrying. “...What’s that?”

“It’s almost noon and I’m leaving for Mercury. So…” She starts, holding the case close to her chest before offering it to Amanda, and also taking a thermos out of her duster’s bag. “Brought you this.”

“Oh, thank ya! Have a safe flight there.”

Hiver kisses her on the cheek, whispering “love you, honey”, and walks off, transmatting into orbit, leaving Amanda with the case. Pulling up a chair and unlocking the side clasps, she finds out the case has three layers, one having a small case with a plastic lid and two large cases on top of each other.

The first one carries silverware and a little post-it note, and the other two carry two parts of a fresh meal. Spaghetti with bolognese sauce, vegetables and rice, a grilled ham and cheese sandwich. She smelled the thermos she was handed which contained lemonade, still cold.

The note had a coupon for Spicy Ramen under it, reading: “Honey, treat yourself if I’m not back soon enough to make you dinner. I love you. ♥ - Hiver”

Hiver put everything there to get her girlfriend back on her feet for the workday. It made her blush and smile in fondness, but then she looked around to realize some of her workers and Guardians walking around the hangar had their attention captured by the girls’ little display of affection… drawing varied reactions from them.

“WHAT?!” She angrily bellowed at the meddlers, making them resume their jobs or disperse, before digging in on her lunch.

No matter what anyone thought, it definitely brightened up her day.

The Warlock touched down near the intimidating triangular gate where she had been months prior. She had hoped to never go in again, but her curiosity was deeper than her fear.

With a sigh, she stepped into the jagged hallway leading to the Infinite Forest and unformed her helmet.

“Trinity, can you reach Sagira?”

“A minute.”

The duo waited for a moment while Sagira didn’t pick up the message, Hiver trying not to regret this decision.

“Welcome, Guardian.” A smooth female voice came through the comms minutes after.

“Hey, Guardian-thief.” Trinity answered, eliciting a chuckle from the other Ghost. “My partner here is kind of having an existential crisis and could use some Osiris wisdom right now.”

“Sure. Step inside.”

A portal opens up in front of Hiver and her Ghost, and they go through it to find Osiris and Sagira sitting at a currently empty portion of the Forest. Mossy and levitating in the massive space between the planet’s mantle and core, replaced by Vex atmosphere and engines.

The old Dawnblade is inspecting his rifle’s magazines in order to pass the time as he waits, his attention caught by the Awoken Stormcaller who just stepped through the portal.

“Hello, Guardian.” He said sympathetically, his standing up motion rustling the many feathers in his armor. “What can I help you with?”

“Hello... Osiris.” Hiver greets back, unsure of where to start. “My name is Hiver. I came to Mercury to get your input on some concerns I’ve been having.”

“Careful, girl. If he wasn’t kicked out of the City for his prophecies, it would totally be for his terrible women skills.” Sagira replies, causing both Ghosts to laugh.

“Do not be concerned with her.” Osiris says, causing Sagira to pout. “Speak your mind.”

Hiver sits down on one of the stone blocks and gathers her thoughts. “I’m not the most eloquent of individuals, but I’ll do my best. See, I’m… afraid. Of the Vex. They haunt me whenever my mind decides to be cruel.” She starts fiddling with her fingers. “I’m a Guardian, sure, that is what’s nailed into my head since I came back. But also at some point I… realized I’m a person.”

Osiris listens intently, caressing his beard as he starts to piece together what the Warlock is trying to transmit.

“There is the “me” that is not a Guardian. She is building a life. She has… clanmates, she has friends, hell, just last week she got a girlfriend who makes her the happiest woman in the world. I love her so much, I love everyone so much but… but the Vex... and their space-time manipulation… make me wonder if this is all a hollow shell of a life.”

She punches the block near her thigh in frustration, slightly cracking it. Osiris starts to get up and puts his bird-shaped helmet on.

“I’m sorry, I… rambled too much.”

“How about a trial, Warlock?” He says, taking a strange device of three cubes with glowing runes of them, and rearranging them into a specific order. He gets an immunity barrier.

“Oh boy.” Sagira and Trinity state at the same time.

“Prepare yourself. It is a test of force of will.”

Trinity transmats back into nothingness. Hiver is tense, jumping down from her seat and putting on her helmet as Osiris rearranges the device once more, materializing Vex units on that part of the forest. She stands before them, ready to draw.

“Okay...”

Three Goblins raise their guns, and she fans her Ace’s hammer on their Radiolaria cores while running to her right for cover, spotting Hobgoblins on the platforms above. Gliding upwards, she intercepts more Goblins and a Harpy with her Arcbolt grenade, chaining lightning between them and disintegrating them all.

Dodging Wire Rifle shots from said Hobgoblins, she sees a Minotaur and more Harpies coming in her direction. Avoiding them, she climbs up the platform and slides while destroying their cores as well.

Switching to her Kindled Orchid to engage the Minotaur, she jumps down and rolls sideways to dodge its teleporting blow, immediately countering with shots from the void revolver, which shatter the heavy machine’s barrier and cause it to stumble backwards. Switching once more to her Hammerhead machine gun, the Warlock gunned down the remaining enemies.

“You face the final round.” Sagira states, imitating the missing warden of the Prison of Elders.

To the final round, a Hydra appeared, with its three immunity shields circling around it. It tried to hit Hiver with an energy wave, but she managed to float safely to the ground, circling around and unloading her machine gun’s belt at the eye of the menacing robot, which goes down in a spectacular fiery show.

She jumps back and holsters her weapons while the Hydra explodes in front of her. When everything is back to normal, Osiris floats back to the platform and Hiver removes her helmet.

“You perform exceptionally against the Vex.” He praises. “As such, I believe I have an idea as to why you are afraid of them.”

“Or, more precisely, why you aren’t.” Sagira elaborates, much to her confusion.

“I’m... not?”

“No. Sit down, Warlock, and I will explain.”

She obeys, sitting on the same stone block as before, reloading her weapons. Osiris clears his throat and begins his explanation.

“The Vex are terrifying creations. With their incredibly accurate simulations, they have made us question everything we believed we knew about time and space, and if reality is actually a linear concept or just a branch out of an eternally multiplying tree where every possible choice is happening simultaneously.”

Hiver starts getting visibly unsettled.

“But you wouldn’t be afraid of them if they were just the murderous proxies you find in the field. You can dispatch them very easily.”

“You love your girlfriend, right?” Sagira asks. Hiver nods. “You love your clanmates, you appreciate your allies, you care about your reality. You want it to be real.”

“Correct.” The Warlock confirms nervously.

“Then, your fear is not of the Vex, it’s of the possibility that you might lose all you love. Or, rather…”

“That what you are living right now has never been ‘real’ in the first place.” Osiris concludes.

Hiver is starting to tear up for the second time today as anxiety hits her once more. Osiris moves closer to place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“A simulation is exactly that. A simulation. Imitation. Mimicry. It requires a model, a starting point. And more than hundreds of years studying and battling the Vex have shown that this is the model they are using. We are the start of their digital futures; everything else is mere extrapolation entertained by their stone-cold calculations and amoral what-ifs.”

He removes his hand and turns to face the blue-colored sky on the Infinite Forest. Sagira is using her shell’s pointy bits to try and wipe Hiver’s cheeks, careful not to hurt her. Trinity does the same.

“As much as I despise admitting it, the Light is the reason. The Traveler bears an unsimulable force, and the Vex have to circumvent this in every timeline they create. It’s very convenient to us. Our continued efforts and meddling have set them back from our reality.”

Osiris turns to her again.

“Does your emotion feel real? Can you feel the things you don’t want to lose?”

Hiver looks at him with a puzzled expression, turning her head to the right slightly. “Of course it does.”

“Then, to you, it doesn’t matter if there are alternate timelines or simulated realities.”

He pokes her forehead, eliciting a bit of a smile. “Your reality is here.”

Then he pokes her duster’s leftside collar, over her left breast. “And your affection is here. And it is as real as you’d like it to.” He backs down with his arms crossed. “Go home. Cherish all that you have, and don’t let fear prevent you from living how you see best. After all...”

He transmats his bird-shaped helmet over his head and pulls his red bandanna over his mouth. Then he picks up his rifle and loads it.

“If any Vex want to get to you, they do have to go through me.”

“They have tried infinite times, and failed just as many times. So I’d say it’s par for the course for you. And, by the way...” Sagira begins.

Hiver’s spirits have been lifted a tenfold since she came inside the Forest, and she’s ready to go on with her day. Osiris can feel the change in his fellow Warlock.

“Thank you two.” She sneaks in before she concludes.

“...You’re welcome. Damnit!”

Hiver laughs, Trinity sending a triumphant “Got you” Sagira’s way.

“Nice talking to you, Sagira.” Trinity bids her farewells. “Call us if you need some mess fixed.”

“Same to ya, Trinity. I’d love to know you two better. And give Amanda my cheers on finding such a cute girlfriend!”

“Congratulations on finding love, Guardian. If you ever need to find me again, you know where to find me.”

The Stormcaller giggles and blushes while turning to walk away through the portal.

“Wait.” She turns around again. “I never told you her name was Amanda.”

The two Ghosts trade looks for some seconds and vanish. Osiris lets out a hearty laugh.

“Goodbye, Hiver.”

“Bye, Osiris.” She said, relieved, as she stepped through the portal back to Mercury.

On her way to the ramen shop, Amanda receives a text message from Hiver.

“Going back home. You want to have ramen or eat at home?”

“Can we have both?” She replies with a cocky smile.

“Of course, I’m on my way. Love you honey ♥”

Amanda was eager to hear about whatever it is she went to do on Mercury. But whatever it was, it definitely helped her recover from her nightmare and put her in a lighter mood.

Both of them silently hope it stays that way.

[vex-bittys]

The Food Court Fiasco: A Horrortale Story

A simple trip to a mall food court takes an unexpected turn when jealousy gets the better of two skeletons harboring secret crushes on each other.

Contains: NSFW (18+ only), explicit sexual content, language, fontcest (horrorcest), mild violence, mild blood, attempted sexual assault, body image dysphoria, masturbation (mention), oral, fingering, mild exhibitionism, sex toys (mention), creampie

NOTE: This is a gift for redtomatofan featuring their version of the Horrortale skelebros, Sugar and Blood.

Sugar had experienced many different emotions during his lifetime, but not this particular one. In his own universe, he knew feelings such as desperation, gnawing hunger, and deep depression. Back then, he feared that he and his brother, Blood, might die in the burned out shell of a house in Snowdin where they often huddled together against the biting wind.

Joining the other monsters from various parallel universes here on the Surface introduced Sugar to an even wider variety of emotions. He felt sadness for the lives he and his brother had lived and the things they had done to survive, but he also smiled, laughed, and even experienced the satisfaction of a full figurative stomach, the warmth of a safe home, and the relief of a life without the constant burden of fear. Newer feelings had surfaced even more recently- a yearning for his brother that went further than their previous fraternal affection. It was from this sensation of love and longing that the new feeling emerged, a feeling that Sugar decided must be jealousy.

Guilt washed over Sugar, an unfortunately familiar experience; he hated thinking negative thoughts about Blood. He loved Blood. They had gone through so much together; they had even recovered together, holding hands as they crept from shadow to shadow, clinging to the walls of the house they shared with Papyrus and Sans, afraid to be out in the open and exposed to dangers that only existed in their memories and imaginations. Sugar should be proud that Blood was finally going out in public, facing humans in much larger numbers than he ever had before.

Instead, he just felt jealous, staring across the food court from the table where he waited for Blood to collect their food order. He watched as females- vivacious, curvy females- gravitated towards buff, handsome Blood. They hung on his every word, though Sugar only heard the occasional giggle from the cluster of Blood’s adoring fans and the low rumbling cadence of his brother’s voice. Some of them even dared to reach out and rest their hands delicately against his shoulder or forearm. Sugar seethed, and he hated himself for it.

The first time Sugar and Blood left the safety of the other skeletons’ house, anxiety had overwhelmed them. They cringed and cowered away from other monsters. Their first meeting with humans at the Monster Embassy hadn’t fared much better. Human attention terrified them after the ordeal of their imprisonment in their doomed Underground. Back then, Blood never would have allowed human hands to touch him; now he didn’t bother shrugging them off. Maybe he even enjoyed it.

Loneliness was another new feeling for Sugar. Back in their old lives, it had been Sugar and Blood against the world, but now their world had changed, expanded. When the server at the fast food counter called their order number, Blood turned reluctantly away from his admirers, picking up the tray and carrying it over to Sugar. Finally, they could have some quality time together… or so Sugar thought.

“go ahead and start without me, Shugs. i just need to finish up some business real quick,” Blood told his brother in passing, setting down a tray containing two plates full of meat and vegetables in a fragrant sauce being rapidly absorbed by ample beds of steaming rice. Blood hurried back to the crowd of women, obviously more interested in the cleavage escaping from one of their low cut tops than in eating a meal out in public with his brother. It was a small but meaningful victory that they should be sharing together, soured by the jealousy blossoming in Sugar’s SOUL.

Sugar sniffled, fighting back tears that would water down the meal in front of him. The food cooled while Blood added contact information from various women into his phone. For the first time in his life, Sugar actually lost his appetite.  

Food, so scarce in their own universe, seemed to be everywhere they turned in their new life on the Surface. At first, the two starved and weakened skeletons ate themselves sick, unable to pace themselves or stop eating until every scrap of food had been consumed. With embarrassment, Sugar remembered eating out of the trash receptacle, swallowing some wilted carrot tops that Papyrus had casually tossed out without even chewing them. It took weeks for them to accept that the food wouldn’t run out and even longer for them to calm down enough around food to use utensils.

Eventually, they were even able to lay those utensils down once they’d filled their proverbial bellies instead of ravenously consuming everything in sight until nothing remained. That had been a monumental occasion, the first time Sugar realized that he was satisfied and left some mashed potatoes on his plate, a pale island in a small sea of uneaten gravy.

Sugar and Blood decided to celebrate their acclimation to “normal” life by eating out in public, in the food court at a local mall frequented by humans and monsters alike. Sugar should have known better.

Blood turned heads even when the other Sanses were with him. At first, Blood assumed that people were just staring at his head wound, but after awhile, it dawned on him that even among his alternate selves, he stood out. Blood’s broad chest and muscular build made him the heartthrob of the Sanses. Sugar should know. His SOUL went pitter-pat whenever he saw Blood shirtless, his ecto almost always summoned, deep red like his namesake.

Sugar didn’t blame the humans and monsters that flocked to his brother’s side, not usually, but today he couldn’t stomach the attention that Blood was receiving. Jealousy ate at him, as voracious as he had once been. Blood deserved the attention. He deserved the love. Sugar shouldn’t resent him for it, but he did. If only Blood looked at him the way he looked at them. If only Sugar looked like them instead of stick thin with his insubstantial breasts that never filled out no matter how much he ate.

The sound of Blood’s throaty laugh drove Sugar over the edge. Tears overflowed his sockets. Sugar didn’t want his brother to see him crying. What if he asked what was wrong? How could Sugar explain that he wanted his brother to himself, that he craved Blood’s touch, that he wanted Blood so desperately that sometimes it hurt? Hiding his face in his hands, Sugar abandoned the tray of food and ran towards the bathroom.

The playful giggles emanating from the throng of females surrounding Blood chased Sugar across the food court, ratcheting up his anxiety level as well as his insecurity. Intrusive thoughts whispered in his mind that they were laughing at him, ridiculing his unattractive body type, his glasses, his braces, and the very idea that someone as handsome as Blood might ever be attracted to someone like him. Blinking to clear his vision, he stumbled into an alcove leading to the restrooms.

A human loitering nearby followed Sugar, approaching him with his hands in his pockets and a friendly half smile on his face.

“Hey, there, cutie. What’s wrong?” the man asked in a saccharine sweet tone. The man’s close proximity made Sugar nervous, especially since he’d been caught crying. He spotted Blood and his human entourage over the man’s shoulder, however, and his brother lifted his head like a bloodhound catching an elusive scent, turning his head to the left and right as if he were tracking it. The sight gave Sugar an idea.

Maybe he could make Blood feel jealous.

Sugar stepped close to the man, mimicking the human females by resting a hand on the man’s arm. Blood’s sharp eyes settled on his brother and the stranger. Perfect! “Do you really think I’m cute?” Sugar asked the man, shy but determined to make his plan work. He didn’t expect the man to react the way he did.

Crowding Sugar and forcing him to step back into the alcove, the human leered and slipped his hand up Sugar’s flowy peasant shirt, massaging one of the skeleton’s small breasts roughly. “You’re so sexy I can barely keep my hands off ya,” said the man. He used his knee to part Sugar’s legs under his patella-length skirt, pressing his knee against the supple mound between them.

Sugar panicked and pulled away, but the man grabbed his arm. “You’re hurting me!” Sugar protested.

“Then stop struggling!” the man growled, attempting to drag Sugar into the empty bathroom. Desperate, Sugar fought to escape, but the man overpowered him. Sugar’s mind went blank with fear. This human intended to hurt him.

The pale bones of a skeletal hand caught the man’s shirt from behind, yanking the human backwards and away from Sugar. In a flash, Blood tackled the man to the ground and began punching him savagely in the face.

“get yer fuckin’ hands offa him,” roared Blood, beating the man mercilessly. The human beneath him raised his arms to block the blows raining down, but Blood would not be denied, striking with wild abandon and devastating force.

Relieved at being rescued, Sugar hovered nearby, shocked by the violence and not sure what he should do. He didn’t want Blood to permanently harm the human, but Blood’s eyes glowed with rage in a way that frightened him. Blood would never hurt his brother, but he wouldn’t hesitate for a second to maim a human who threatened Sugar.

“Blood, stop,” cried Sugar. Blood ignored him.

Security guards arrived on the scene, and it took three of them to pull Blood away from his brother’s assailant and hold him back from attacking further. Two more security guards helped the man to his feet. The man’s face was misshapen and coated in sticky crimson blood. He brushed himself off before sneering at the two skeletons.

“He was asking for it,” he spat.

Blood’s eyelights vanished- never a good sign. “i’ll fuckin’ kill ya!” The stocky skeleton threw himself at the man, and the five guards struggled to restrain him. During the scuffle, the human started to sneak away, but another security guard stepped forward to stop him.

“Whoa there buddy,” he said, holding up a hand. “We saw everything on the surveillance cameras, and the police have been called. All three of you are going to have to come with us, especially you.” The guard who wasn’t wrestling with Blood jabbed a finger at the man’s chest.

Sugar stepped in front of Blood, breaking his brother’s line of sight. Blood’s gleaming scarlet eyelights returned when Sugar’s features, full of pale freckles and concern, filled his vision. Blood reached out a hand, his blood-coated knuckles at odds with the gentle way he cupped Sugar’s cheekbone.

Sugar leaned into the touch, and both skeletons took comfort in the physical connection. “I’m ok,” Sugar murmured softly. “Come on, Blood. We have to go with the guards now.” The sound of his brother’s voice and the reassurances it carried calmed Blood, and he followed Sugar and the guards with no further arguments. The security guards wisely kept themselves between the skeletons and the man who had attacked Sugar and been subsequently pummeled by Blood.

The hodgepodge parade left a trail of crimson droplets in its wake as the humans and skeletons walked through a set of double doors with a sign reading “Authorized Personnel Only” on them. Two guards entered a room with several swivel chairs facing a bank of monitors displaying strategic views of the mall. Two guards escorted the creep into a room down the hall with a tiny window in the door. The remaining pair of guards led Sugar and Blood to the next room, indicating that they should go inside.

“This is just a precaution in case the police need you to fill out a statement. Have a seat and cool off for a bit. You’re not in any sort of trouble,” on of the guards explained before closing the door and giving the two skeletons some privacy.

The room, with its bland gray walls, harsh, unadorned light fixtures, and uninteresting tiled floor, resembled a stereotypical police investigation room, containing only a table and three straight-backed chairs. Sugar immediately collapsed into the nearest chair, and Blood rushed to his side.

“I’m so sorry, brother. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble!” wailed Sugar.

“it ain’t yer fault that creep put his hands on ya, Shugs.” Blood meant to put a comforting hand on Sugar’s shoulder, but somehow he ended up placing his hand on one of Sugar’s breasts… the very breast that the aforementioned creep had fondled. Blood couldn’t yank his hand back; he knew that Sugar felt self conscious about his breast size. Blood didn’t want to give the incorrect impression that those perky B cups repulsed him! How long should he cup Sugar’s breast before it got awkward? What constituted an appropriate amount of breast-groping time?

The two skeletons sat or stood respectively in awkward silence. Sugar didn’t move away; Blood resisted the urge to knead the breast that fit so well in his palm. Seconds dragged on into minutes, and Blood eventually lowered his hand. Pale coral dusted Sugar’s cheeks, but Blood couldn’t tell if Sugar was flustered or just embarrassed by his brother’s unusual behavior.

“I can’t believe you got there so quickly. I didn’t think anyone could see or hear me.” Sugar babbled, missing Blood’s hand on his chest. How many times had he rubbed his own breasts and tugged his sensitive nipples while thinking about Blood late at night… late at night when he was alone, exploring his body with his fingers and wishing his delicate hands belonged to someone else.

Blood cleared his throat, suddenly looking anywhere except at Sugar. “i, uh, may have already been on my way over,” he admitted reluctantly. “seein’ you flirtin’ with him, well, i just couldn’t stand it. when i found out he was attackin’ ya, i lost it.”

“You… were jealous?” Sugar narrowed his sockets in suspicion.

“yeah.” Blood rubbed the back of his skull. “the way you touched him…” He trailed off.

“You let all of those women touch you,” Sugar whispered miserably. Hot tears prickled in his sockets, resuming their attempted escape from earlier.

“oh, Shugs.” Blood reached out to caress his brother’s face again but Sugar stood up and turned away from him, arms folded across his ribcage as he struggled to swallow the sobs that threatened to break free at any moment. “it ain’t like that!”

“You put all of their numbers in your phone! I saw you!” Sugar accused, voice and hands trembling.

“i wasn’t flirtin’ with ‘em! i only talked to ‘em because i wanted… to find ya… some friends.” Blood’s gruff voice softened with the admission. “ya need someone to go shopping with and watch those romance movies ya like with. i know you’ve been feelin’ lonely lately with Papyrus so busy at the Embassy, but ya never go out. ya spend alla yer time takin’ care of me. i don’t want ta hold ya back. i don’t want ya to feel obligated to stay by me all the time because of what we went through back then…”

The heartfelt speech stunned Sugar, briefly rendering him speechless. When he finally found words to express himself, Sugar let his own emotions show. “I don’t feel obligated, Blood. I want to spend time with you. I want to spend… all of my time with you. I want you, Blood,” Sugar blurted out.

It was Blood’s turn to be speechless, so he spoke with his actions, stepping in close to Sugar intending to embrace him. Unfortunately, Sugar faced away from him, and Blood ended up pressing in close to his brother’s spine… with his rapidly hardening cock resting against the firm curve of Sugar’s ass. Sugar froze.

Blood threw propriety to the wind. He didn’t back away. He didn’t pretend his erection wasn’t grinding against his brother’s ass. Instead, he groaned with the pleasure of it. “i want you too, Shugs. fuck, i’ve wanted you so badly for so long.”

“Then take me,” Sugar breathed, whirling to face Blood, his every fantasy coming alive as Blood backed him into the table. Blood’s eyes smoldered with desire, and pre cum stained the front of his shorts in a growing wet patch of tented fabric that clearly showed the outline of an ample hard-on.

“with pleasure,” purred Blood, leaning in to kiss Sugar. Blood led the kiss with his tongue, capturing Sugar’s mouth and dominating it passionately and completely. Sugar closed his sockets and let the fire of his brother’s passion consume him, moaning breathlessly into Blood’s mouth.

No longer restrained by his doubts, Blood let his hands travel up the ectoflesh around Sugar’s femurs. Grabbing Sugar’s ass, Blood lifted him up until he was seated on the table with his skirt pushed up to his waist. Blood broke the kiss to drink in the intoxicating sight of his brother’s panties.

A flimsy piece of black satin barely concealed Sugar’s plump mound. Arousal dampened the fabric and clouded the air with pheromones. These panties were new; Blood had stolen every pair of Sugar’s panties at some point or another for late night masturbation sessions before laundry day. The stocky skeleton hooked the fabric with his thumb and pulled it aside, admiring the newly exposed pussy lips.

“you sure about this, Shugs?” Blood asked one last time, mouth watering.

A hot gust of breath carried the shorter skeleton’s words forward to tickle and inexplicably cool Sugar’s glistening slit. Sugar could barely gasp out the affirmation:

“Yes!”

Blood’s crimson tongue parted Sugar’s folds and sank into his pussy, curling and lapping up the slender skeleton’s juices. Nothing had ever tasted as good to Blood as the tangy sweetness of his brother’s pussy, and nothing ever would. If he ever found himself on Death Row, Blood swore to request Sugar’s sweet cunt as his last meal so he could die happy. Sugar’s screams of ecstasy provided delicious dinner music as Blood swirled his tongue deep inside of the coral-colored magic.

Sugar gripped the edge of the table with both hands. His hips bucked reflexively, crushing his pussy against Blood’s eager face. Nothing he had ever done to himself held a candle to the jolts of pleasure ripping through his body and rattling his bones. He actually thought he might faint, but Blood’s tongue suddenly disappeared.

Sugar didn’t even have a chance to open his sockets before Blood’s mouth descended on his for more fierce kisses. He tasted himself on his brother’s tongue, and it made him shiver in anticipation of what might happen next. Blood did not disappoint.

Moving from Sugar’s mouth to kiss and nibble at his cervical vertebrae, Blood allowed his fingers to explore his brother’s folds in place of his tongue. One thumb gently stroked Sugar’s clit, making him tense up in surprise. The other hand circled Sugar’s quivering entrance, teasing it without entering. Just in case this was some impossible dream, Blood wanted to take his time and savor every moment and every inch of Sugar.

“Blood!” Sugar cried out as one of Blood’s thick phalanges slid into his pussy. Blood leered, mouth still pressed to Sugar’s neck, tongue dipping between the bones to probe the disks. He hoped that fucking pervert in the next room could hear Sugar calling his name. He wanted to erase every memory of that guy’s touch on Sugar’s body and replace it with the white-hot thrill of his love-making.

In one deft movement, Blood tugged down the front of Sugar’s blouse and his bra, revealing two supple tits with erect nipples, just waiting for him to suck, squeeze, and tug. Before Blood could shift his attention to the twin mounds decorating Sugar’s chest, the slender skeleton moved his hands to cover himself, refusing to meet Blood’s eyelights. Blood stilled.

“what’s wrong, Shugs?” he asked, though he already suspected the answer.

“They’re so small,” whispered Sugar, ashamed of his body.

“they’re perfect,” Blood declared, giving each breast a nuzzle. He didn’t allow Sugar to interrupt him with denials. “Shugs, yer so gorgeous. yer radiant and healthy and finally well-fed. this is just what yer ecto looks like, and every time i see yer magic color, i swear it’s the most beautiful sight i’ve ever laid eyes on because it’s you.”

Blood used his free hand to tilt Sugar’s face until their eyelights met, forcing his brother to see the love and sincerity radiating from him. Sugar flushed, and Blood chuckled. “my favorite color,” he said softly, going back to work pleasuring his brother.

Starting out slowly, Blood worked first one then two fingers in and out of his brother’s soaking pussy. The stocky skeleton kissed his way across Sugar’s elegant clavicles, letting his mouth travel down to the gentle double slopes of his tits. He circled one pert nipple with his tongue, blowing on the moistened nub and drawing a lustful mewl from Sugar’s mouth. The sound only encouraged Blood.

Pumping faster with two phalanges of one hand, Blood used his other hand to knead one of Sugar’s breasts. The other breast was currently filling his mouth as he sucked at it, biting carefully on the nipple then licking the tender spots. Blood pinched and tugged the other nipple then massaged the breast again. Stars, Sugar’s tits were amazing, and if the way his brother babbled his name was any indication, they were deliciously sensitive as well.

A tingling tension spread low in Sugar’s abdomen. He recognized the building orgasm, but he’d never experienced anything so intense before. That’s when Blood’s phalanges found the sweet spot, curling inside of Sugar and brushing against his G spot. Sugar’s spine arched, his eyelights rolled back, and his hips snapped upwards as an exquisite bliss engulfed him. He never knew anything could feel so good. His greedy cunt clamped down on his brother’s fingers.

Sugar had a dildo. Monster heats needed to be relieved or they could become painful or even dangerous. Papyrus had waited casually outside of the sex shop while a very unsure and uncomfortable Sugar selected a toy that he thought would suit him in a very specific shade of red. He’d used it during many of his late night sex fantasy sessions, but he had never achieved results like Blood had with only his fingers.

Blood slid his fingers out of his brother’s pussy, licking the sticky juices from his bones before shoving his shorts down to release his aching cock. He wanted to plunge right into Sugar, but his brother’s tight pussy could barely accommodate his fingers. He needed to take his time and be patient. Sugar was worth it.

Focusing on self-control, Blood rubbed the head of his cock up and down Sugar’s slit, lubricating himself with his brother’s arousal and allowing his precum to mingle with Sugar’s juices. Sugar couldn’t tear his eyelights away from Blood’s cock. It was so thick, and it twitched as it came in contact with his fluttering pussy as if were impatient to sink into the sweet warm wetness.

Sugar panted, desperate with desire, but Blood concentrated on stretching his brother’s pussy to keep from hurting him. Their first time together had to be perfect and painless. Blood pushed the tip of his cock into Sugar’s tight cunt.

Nothing compared to the hot, pulsing tightness of his brother’s pussy. Blood had a pocket pussy, of course. Being so close to Sugar without the constant threat of attack or starvation drove him insane with repressed desire, especially since Sugar loved to wear cute clothes that were perfect for imagining explicit scenarios. How foolish he had been to think that a pale pink pocket pussy was an adequate substitute for the real thing.

Inch by painstaking inch, Blood entered his brother. Sugar hadn’t expected Blood’s cock to be so hot, so filling. His pussy stretched, swallowing up the dark red cock little by little until Blood hilted inside of him. Sugar couldn’t move, his body felt like it might explode with ecstasy at any moment.

Sugar frowned when Blood began to pull back out, but when his brother’s hips snapped forward to bury his throbbing cock deep inside of him, he lost control completely and gave himself over to the burning lust that seemed to grow with each passing second instead of being satiated.

Instinctively, Sugar locked his legs around Blood’s waist as if to pull him even closer somehow, and Blood sank deeper into his brother with every rough thrust. Grunting with each slam of his hips, Blood reveled in his brother’s wild cries for more, harder, more, happily obliging.

If the table had not been bolted down, the force of the thorough pounding would have sent it screeching across the floor tiles.

Jealousy no longer occupied either skeleton’s mind. Blood’s hot cum spilling into Sugar’s convulsing pussy erased all other thoughts except for their mutual gratification. Blood withdrew, watching his blood red cum slowly dribble from Sugar’s throbbing cunt with pride. Sugar gave him a coquettish half-lidded gaze.

“Can we… do it again?”

Crisis averted, the security guards dispersed to their usual stations. One guard stayed in the surveillance room, two guards manned the security desk across from the food court at the center of the bustling mall, and the remaining three guards patrolled the lobby and mezzanine. When the police officer arrived, he headed straight for the security desk. The guards there briefed him on the situation.

Once the police business had been handled, one of the desk guards stepped into the surveillance room to update his partner.

“The police are transporting that creep to the hospital. He’s gonna need some facial reconstruction after the ass-whooping that skeleton gave him,” he gossiped casually. “The officer said the video provided enough evidence to pursue charges, so the two skeletons are free to go.” When the security guard in the chair didn’t answer, the desk guard persisted: “Do you want to tell them, or should I?”

“I’m pretty sure the two of ‘em don’t want to be bothered right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

Instead of speaking, the surveillance station guard silently jerked his thumb at one of the screens behind him, a screen that showed a clear view of the room where the skeletons were. The desk guard glanced briefly at the screen then averted his eyes, blushing furiously.

“Yeah, we’ll, uh, give them a few more minutes to finish up then.”

Sauce congealed on two abandoned plates of food on a deserted table in the mall food court, long forgotten by the two skeletons who had ordered it. Their lives had certainly changed since coming to the Surface, and Sugar and Blood both found something more important to them than food or safety- each other.

INDEX

[annefraid]

you want what you can't give

They were at Giovanni's place, the five of them, it was friday evening, and they were already drunk. 

Nobody had the energy to go out tonight, "it's way too cold", and with no parents here, they were sprawled out on the large sofa and some chairs with more pizza than they could possibly eat. Only he was still reasonably sober, since someone should be able to get Marti home safely.

"No, I'm serious!" Luca called out, a little too loud but it was swallowed by the eruptive outbreak of laughter from the others. "I read about this new study that says you still grow in your twenties, so I have time."

Elia was the first one to calm down enough to comment. "But how do we smuggle you then, if you don't fit in a suitcase?" 

Niccolò's laugh shrunk down to a confused smile. Right next to him Marti lifted his hand to point at Elia across the table, agreeing loudly. 

"Wait, I don't know what that's about."

Gio looked at Nico. "Bro, you don't know about the suitcase?" With a mischievous sparkle in his eyes his hand shot up dramatically to request silence, preparing everyone for an epic story.

"It all began when we met Luchino," he started, barely able to contain his own laughter, but dedicated to the anecdote. He was usually a great storyteller, but now the boys kept interrupting him by throwing in comments only they understood, the alcohol and euphoric narrative made him leave out parts of sentences, but Nico got the gist. At the end they were all laughing, watching Luca fake-complain about left out details.

"So you went to Greece together?"

"Yes, last summer!"

"Man, I wish we weren't stuck in school right now, I want to go back."

"Those were the days, my friends."

"It was the best," Martino sighed.

"Yeah, what did you do?" he asked him.

"We, you know, just relaxed," Giovanni answered instead and gave Marti a meaningful look before he burst out laughing again.

Marti giggled and slid down even more, partly leaning against Nico's left arm, with his feet on the coffee table, crossed at the ankles. 

Niccolo knew he was a jealous person. He also knew it wasn't fair, because he was the one who needed space, who couln't always give his full attention, who shut people out.

But seeing parts of Martino that only other people experienced stung in his chest. To want what you can't give, that was the problem. It was how he saw himself, a puzzle made of creativity and struggles and love and darkness. A mix of all the pieces coming out depending on the people he was around. Never able to offer himself without the pain. Rarely presenting everything. But Martino was another story. He wanted every part of Martino.

Pausing his conversation with Gio, Marti leaned his head on Nico's shoulder, trying to look at him, then brought his beer bottle up to Nico's lips, nudging playfully. His wide grin was definitely a product of alcohol, and the sight made Nico decide to completely give up on his own drink. 

"I think somebody has to play the adult here."

"You deserve to relax too. Come on, a little fun?" Marti suggested.

"I can already see us sleeping in some bushes later, because we got lost on the way."

"Or we could just..." Marti closed his eyes and pretended to snore. Nico knew they could. He knew Giovanni wouldn't even bat an eye if they stayed here for the night.

Marti sat up, taking his feet off the table this time, and a second later he was already in the middle of a new topic with Gio.

When Niccolò had joined the group only a few months ago, all of the guys had welcomed him with open arms, teasing and including him like they've known each other for years. He loved them for that, he really did. 

He was also aware that Marti loved them all, but from the first moment he joined, he knew Giovanni was different. He probably could have figured it out even before that, maybe when he gave Marti his headphones back, actually Giovanni's headphones. Or when Gio eyed him suspiciously, as if he was looking into his soul, searching for his true intentions with his best friend.

Nico didn't fully understand their connection, maybe because he's never had someone like that. A friend who was easy to talk to and equally understanding about issues. Somebody who knew everything about you, and still stayed.. He could see it in every look they shared, every time they were checking in with each other, just synchronizing their lives. He saw it every time they grinned like nine year olds who were plotting some genius prank, at least in their eyes, other times they had entire silent conversations with serious faces, or if it concerned one of their friends, then it was quick glances and determined nods.

Nico didn't want to interfere, but he couldn't shake the feeling that a part of Marti was taken from him.

----

One week later they were hanging out again. Except this time there was no alcohol and they were in Martino's apartment.

Niccolò was standing in front of the open fridge with his mother's voice in mind, to not "leave it open for such a long time, decide what you want beforehand." He looked over the spices and sauces, smiled at the red bottle in sentiment and took the cheese.

Closing the fridge, he turned back to the counter, realizing Giovanni had joined him and was looking around, searching for something. Nico opened a drawer and took out a knife.

"What are you making?" Gio asked as he took two glasses from the cupboard.

"A sandwich. Do you also want one?"

He raised his eyebrows. "But we already ordered food, it should be here in half an hour."

"I know, I just couldn't wait any longer." 

Gio nodded and reached for a bottle of water, letting a few seconds pass in silence.

"Everything good?" he asked casually and Nico couldn't help but smile. It was such a familiar tone from him, one that made people feel comfortable, giving space when it's needed, asking when he felt something was off, but always genuine. It was a rare trait.

"Yeah, everything's good," he answered. Gio nodded again and turned to leave, playfully bumping Nico’s shoulder with the bottle in passing.

Elia and Luca were sitting at the dinner table, hunched over a phone to watch funny videos, judging by their laughter. He returned to his food, thinking about adding something, when quiet footsteps approached from behind and two arms wrapped around his waist.

"Hey," Marti murmured, putting his chin on his shoulder.

"Hey yourself," he said, leaning into the embrace for a moment.

"What's that?"

"Sandwich." 

"You're not eating with us?" He could hear the concern, but somehow Marti has found a way that worked for both of them, a voice which took the pressure off, but still allowed Marti to ask. Nico took it as confirmation, proof that this was working out.

"Maybe later, if there's still something left after you guys." He giggled as he took a piece of the cheese and waved it in front of Marti's face, pretending to feed it to him, only to pull back at the last second and put it in his own mouth. Marti only hummed in response and Nico felt warmth spreading in his body, maybe because of the hug, maybe because of how easy this was.

"Wait, did Gio tell you to check up on me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He felt a soft kiss on the back of his neck, and then Marti released him and walked out of the kitchen.

He finished his creation and turned around to lean against the counter, eating. Marti was back on the couch, a box full of video games on his lap, picking out some to read the cover. Gio was kneeling in front of the tv, setting up the gamepads they would use later.

Nico hasn't stopped thinking about them all week and seeing them work together again like this unlocked all the memories he had. When he started dating Martino, he quickly picked up on how Marti talked about Giovanni, like he was a constant in his life, a person deeply rooted in his past and present. He was a source of warmth, and Nico knew it was what Marti needed: someone warm, someone comfortable, someone who shined as bright as Marti.

Nico saw how much Gio cared about Marti in every interaction, in every look. And even if he was blind he would have known, because Marti told him, mentioned it in passing once. How Gio had been there for him, through all of it and when nobody else was. And Nico knew, nothing about that statement was casual, it was a truth, so well thought out and genuine that Nico couldn’t help but feel grateful that Marti found someone who has taken care of him all these years. And also, he thought, feeling a slight stab in the chest, all the times Nico has made him miserable.

Gio turned his head to look at Marti over his shoulder, pointing at something. Marti looked up and just nodded, watching him take out a jar from the shelf. Gio inspected it from all sides, turning it in his hand, as if the transparent glass could hide something, but Nico knew that the jar only contained one red thread, bundled together.

The boys at the table were so loud he couldn’t hear their words, he only saw Marti saying something, smiling brightly and Gio focusing again on the jar, before his face formed one of his own content smiles, Nico recognized it even from afar. He carefully placed it on the shelf again and went back to his efforts at the tv. And just like that, Nico knew.

He knew that both of them would take care of him, that Nico was also a part of this now. And maybe he couldn't give Marti all he wanted to, but he also didn't need to. There were other people, and that didn’t mean he wasn’t enought for Martino.

He knew that he didn't have to share him, that Marti was a whole person, a person who’s relationships were the most important things in his life. He had to let him breathe, let him grow and expand and keep as many people close as he needed. His relationships were a part of him, fundamentally ingrained into his being. He cared so much about them, that was why people loved him and that was why Nico loved him. And Nico knew he would do anything to keep him happy.

[mellicose]

⚡ Erotica Flash Challenge #2 ⚡-  The New Flesh

Fandom: David Tennant, Doctor Who, Tentoo x Rose

Word count: 3000

Rating: Mature

Warnings: none

Based on this fantastic anonymous request:

“Tentoo comes across human smut for the first time (visual or in writing, your pick), and experiences arousal. All these new human hormones scare, confuse and, excite  him. (Just like experiencing puberty for the first time. Thankfully I had mom’s medical books saying what’s happening to me. Ooh! Put that in the story! Tentoo looks up his symptoms!) Eventually, he jumps into the bathroom and skins the sausage.”

“Skins the sausage”. I had a hearty laugh at that. ‘Tentoo then runs to the loo and eagerly unsheathes his pork sword.’

*rolling on the floor, wheezing*

Although I don’t ship, Rose just had to be in this. It’s canon, and it’s perfect. Enjoy it while you can, because in my DW AU real life happens to John and Rose with a quickness.

I want all of you to know these flash prompts are truly a labor of love for my small but beautiful audience - I bloody love writing for you. Thank you so much for reading <3

“Alright, John, I’m off to the shops,” Rose said, putting on her leather jacket. “I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

“But why?” He fidgeted. It had only been a bit more than a week since he arrived, and he was still getting used to Pete’s world.

“Because you’ve nearly eaten me out of house and home,” she said, smiling at him. “We’ve spent every waking moment together. It’d be nice to have some time alone, right? Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.”

In all honesty, Rose was going through a period of adjustment as well. As much as John had the Doctor’s memories and cleverness, he was also the exact physical facsimile of the alien she had loved so deeply she risked the souls of everyone in her universe to touch him again … but he wasn’t the Doctor. Neither of them. His hearts did not beat a double tattoo in her ear when she dared to put her ear to his chest. He had not traveled to the ends of the universe, lived and loved and lost. After the loss of Nine and Ten, it was difficult to bear.

John was … John. And although his physical appearance was the loveliest thing she has ever seen, he was not the man she loved. But she felt she could love him, eventually. In the eight days they had cohabited, there had been golden moments when she saw a flash of the luminary she had once clung to, and she knew there would be more moments. But she wanted the feeling to grow naturally.

So they still slept very much apart.

“The heart,” he said, putting his hand to his chest.

“Yes,” she said, putting her hand over his. She caressed his prickly face. “And remember, you have to shave every day if you want your face to be smooth. Otherwise, you’ll end up looking like a mountain man.”

“And you don’t like that?” he said with a sweet fragility that made her eyes water.

“I dunno. Maybe? He never let-” she stopped talking abruptly. She promised herself she wouldn’t mention the Doctor. It wasn’t fair to John. But in the end, she still couldn’t help it. She missed his honey scent and the galaxies swirling in in his rich brown eyes.

There were no galaxies in John’s eyes - just twin stars. Lovely, but far less bright.

She popped in her earpod and walked to the door. “If you need anything, gimme a bell, okay?”

He stared at the earpod on the coffee table in front of the holocube. He was still getting very used to the technology.

“Sure.”

“I’m off, then. You can try to go online if you like. Your bio info is in the cube now,” she said, referring to the advanced computer system. With Mickey’s help, they had been able to hack a new identity for him and enter him into New Britain’s mainframe as a new citizen. To the powers that be, he was an emigre from the South American State.

He sat down on the sofa and fiddled with the cube. As she was walking out, he popped up suddenly.

“Oh, Rose!”

“Yeah?”

“Could you bring a couple boxes of those crumbly berry biscuits? I like those.”

“You mean jammy dodgers?” her mouth trembled with mirth.

“Those.” His eyes brightened.

God, did he love to eat, but his metabolism was so stellar she doubted he would gain a single kilo. “Sure,” she said. “Anything else?”

“And potatoes for mash. And peas. And custard and cake and jam - for trifle. And roast beef, ooh I love that. And crispy sausages and bread and butter for eggy in a basket-”

She put her hand up. “Okay, okay, I get it. You keep it up and I’ll have to call a zeppelin to get all that stuff back here.”

He bounced and bit his lower lip. “But you’ll get the biscuits, at least?”

“I promise,” she said with a sigh, and finally walked out the door.

He was filled with energy. All that talk of food had made him hungry. He opened the fridge and frowned. She was right. It was empty save for some milk and bottles of sauce and milk. He ran his hand over the top of the cupboard, where he knew Rose hid whatever she didn’t want him to devour right away. He felt something promising.

“Jaffa Cakes!” he said, ripping into the box. He grabbed the glass bottle of milk and sat down on the sofa. The holocube flashed.

“Welcome, John Smith,” a soothing female voice said. Scrolling text and various news stations materialized around him, bombarding him with holographic images. There was a flood in India. And, as usual, America was in the midst of political upheaval.

The holocube sensed his disinterest. “Is there anything you’d like to see?”

He chewed his cake and took a sip of milk. The holocube started to play food ads.

“Add a little sunshine to their tea,” a man’s voice said, and a holo of a little boy ran by him and to an image of a kitchen table with a big plate of Jaffa cakes. He bit into it enthusiastically and smiled at him.

“That’s the spirit,” he said to the image, and popped the rest of the cake in his mouth.

Again, the holocube sensed his disinterest. His alpha waves were barely blipping. “Is there anything else you’d like to see?”

He sucked melted chocolate from his fingers and sighed. “Rose, honestly,” he said.

“Rose,” it repeated, and multiple windows started popping up around him.

Flowers. Rows of things - things and people. A flash of frenetic movement caught his eye under the the Rosa centifolia window with all the horticultural information on it.

He touched the corner of the floating image, and just like in a computer, it came forward. It was an image of a woman touching herself.

“What the-” His eyes grew huge. His lips parted, and heat crawled up his neck and made his cheeks tingle.

This woman. He had never seen anything like it. He felt his chemicals working, and his muscles tightened frightfully. His mouth watered, but he still put down the fresh biscult. He wasn’t hungry anymore.

The cube noticed the spike in activity in his pleasure center, and more windows started popping up around him, all of them with ladies in various states of undress.

“Oh. My. I-” His lower lip wobbled.

It was extraordinary. She was so firm. So … delicious. Saliva flooded his mouth, and blood rushed to his groin.

He had seen Rose fully clothed - she rarely showed him more than her bare arms, and still he felt a bit breathless when she moved a certain way around him. But this. He was dizzy, and his vision suddenly went telescopic.

“Shit!” He used the new swear word Rose taught him and jumped up. He ached beneath his belly button. He looked down and yelled. His jeans were tented. He touched himself, and the sensation made him groan.

Sweat dripped down his back.

“What the fuck is happening?” he asked, using another swear word he didn’t dare use around Rose, but had learned from the holocube programs she loved to watch.

Another window popped up. Article after article about the male sex response began to glow around him, along with more images of women doing things.

He touched the closest one, and a very serious article came up.

“The sexual response cycle refers to the sequence of physical and emotional changes that occur as a person becomes sexually aroused and participates in sexually stimulating activities, including intercourse and masturbation.”

“Intercourse and masturbation?” he said out loud. Another couple of windows popped up, but he kept reading.

“The sexual response cycle has four phases: excitement, plateau, orgasm, and resolution. Both men and women experience these phases, although the timing usually is different. For example, it is unlikely that both partners will reach orgasm at the same time.”

Orgasm. The word sounded alien, but promising.

“Physical and/or psychological stimulation leads to vasodilation and subsequent increased blood flow into the penis. The penis grows enlarged and firm, the skin of the scrotum is pulled tighter, and the testes are pulled up against the body.”

Enlarged and firm. He looked between his legs. Check.

“With further sexual stimulation, the heart rate increases, blood pressure rises, and breathing becomes more rapid.” He was panting a bit. And his heartbeat had risen by at least 20 beats per minute.

So it’s normal.

“What is sexual stimulation?” He said to the cube.

“Sexual stimulation is any stimulus (including bodily contact) that leads to, enhances and maintains sexual arousal, and may lead to orgasm. Stimulation can be by self (e.g., masturbation) or by a sexual partner (sexual intercourse or other sexual activity).”

There was that word again.

“What is orgasm?”

“Orgasm is the sudden discharge of accumulated sexual excitement during the sexual response cycle, resulting in rhythmic muscular contractions in the pelvic region characterized by sexual pleasure. Sexual stimulation can be by self-practice (masturbation) or with a sex partner.

“Masturbation,” he read out loud.

Yet again, images began to flood the holo.

He made a soft gurgling noise.

Women do that? Touch themselves like that?

He swallowed hard. The pain had gone away for a bit while he did his research, but it was back now, and even more intense. He riffled through the images, each one more titillating than the last. He began to feel a strange euphoria. His scientist’s brain repeated back what he just read.

They are often associated with other involuntary actions, including muscular spasms in multiple areas of the body, a general euphoric sensation and, frequently, body movements and vocalizations.

His cock pressed insistently on his fly, and it was throbbing. The feeling was both amazing and miserable. His thoughts drifted to Rose.

What do I do with it? He thought. He couldn’t very well shrug and say “I dunno how” if she ever wanted to do something like the women were doing all around him.

He wanted to learn everything, really research the female sexual response for science, but he couldn’t quite get his thoughts together as easily as usual. It was like there was loud static coming from his groin, drowning out reason. He thought of orgasm - the ultimate discharge of sexual excitement.

Perhaps, if he could do that, then he could concentrate enough to start his important research.

He needed to masturbate.

“Male masturbation,” he said. And now there were cocks everywhere, men with their fists pumping, hairy, groaning, and wet.

“Arrgh!” he said, jumping up and away. “No more!”

All the images disappeared. His heart pounded, and the ache had not diminished. He rolled his eyes. Of course all it took was his hand. He could control pressure, speed, and rhythm that way. It made perfect sense.

He looked around, then ran to the bathroom. The quicker he could finish, the quicker he could get to learning.

He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them and his underwear down. Rose’s bathroom had a huge mirror on the door, and he turned to look at himself. He suppressed a giggle. He looked silly - long and slim, like a white oak coat rack with only one hook. He bounced. His cock bounced with him, slapping his belly.

Ooh. That feels mmm.

He did it again. Again it slapped his belly, sending a hot bolt of pleasure up his spine.

Hmmm.

He turned his back on the mirror and licked his palm. All the men had been slick.

“I just grab it like this-” He wrapped his fist at the base of his cock and pumped quickly as the men had done on the holo - and nearly passed out. He collapsed on the toilet, groaning.

“Shit. Bollocks. Bloody fucking hell,” he said softly, using up his whole swear arsenal. His thigh muscles twitched.

It was way too much stimulation too soon. His nipples were sensitive to the cloth rubbing against them. Even licking his lips felt different. His response was optimal, but he mustn’t rush it.

Go slow.

He licked his palm again, then wrapped his hand around himself - not too tight, not too loose - and moved it slowly. His foreskin swallowed the swollen head of his cock and the sensation was…

Stellar. The proper word is stellar, he thought.

He pulled it back and up again, slowly. His toes curled on the tile.

Oh, this is nice.

His balls tightened and the skin warmed, just like the articles stated. Without really thinking, he cupped them with his other hand, caressing them with his thumb.

He sighed and arched. No article needed to tell him to do that. And it was bloody brilliant.

He played around with rhythm, barely moving his fist, then pumping up his shaft in overlapping strokes until his fist covered the crown of his cock.

He moaned loudly, leaning back and spreading his legs.

His palm was deplorably dry again. Although he didn’t explicitly need more lubrication to finish, he liked the feel of it. He looked around the bathroom.

Spring rain-scented bath gel? The soap would irritate. Conditioner? That would get messy. Rose’s bath oil? Way too strongly scented, it would be a dead giveaway, since he only took showers. His eyes drifted to the bottle of lotion by the sink.

Ultra-moisturizing, it exclaimed right on the label. Unscented.

Perfect. He squirted it into his palm and slathered it on himself. He felt silly again, but only until he slowly slid his cock into his lotion-slick hand. He steadied his fist against the counter and began to pump his hips.

His head spun.

This sensation was not in the vast catalog of knowledge the Doctor had given to him. It was a swelling madness. Potential energy in its most beautiful manifestation. He was a river right before it spilled over the lip of a waterfall.

He pumped faster, and his breath quickened with his thrusts.

With a woman, with her, how would it be? Would she love it like he did, feel the same dumb beauty in it? His thoughts unraveled into pure sensation.

The women. Their faces. The sounds they made, when they touched themselves. Their breasts, mysterious orbs, each topped with swollen buds his lips parted to suck. Them, and the silky, hot cleft which he knew was a million times better than his lubed fist.

All of them had it. Every pretty girl he met as Rose showed him around London.

So soft.

And she had it too. She hid it, like they all did, but she had it. And he knew of her unfulfilled desires toward the Doctor. He also knew why the Doctor, regardless of his desire, had abstained.

But he didn’t have to. He was human, and whole, and eager.

He looked down at himself. His belly muscles were tight with his impending release. His brow was wet with sweat, and his moans were loud and exultant.

He would share this with Rose, if she would have him. She could teach him all she knew, and he would learn her.

Every- he felt the spike in heart rate.

Delicious- a deep euphoria, much more intense and full, rose from between his legs, pinged past his heart and shot straight to his brain.

Inch- he grunted as his cock pulsed and spurted onto the vanity mirror. His eyes rolled back and he felt the pleasure sluice through him, over and over, a pleasantly fading echo.

He let his heart slow, then took a deep, shuddering breath and stretched. His reflection in the mirror was flushed and sated. He smiled at himself. Even his blinking has slowed. He cleaned the evidence and pulled on his pants.

Although he thought he could go right back to researching, he was filled with a calm bliss that tempted him to taking a nap. He lay on the sofa.

“Just a couple minutes. Then, studying,” he said to himself. He closed his eyes, and slept.

“John!” Rose yelled at him. He could hear rustling from the front door.

He popped up. It was winter, and night had fallen. How long had he been asleep?? He ran to the door to help her with the grocery bags.

The stars shone over the now pollutionless sky over New London. It was full night. A couple of minutes had turned to several hours of deep, dreamless sleep. He smiled. He had trouble resting, but now the remedy was clear.

They chatted as they put away the groceries, then Rose ran her fingers through his sleep-tousled hair and smiled up at him.

“You finally get some good sleep?” She knew about his tossing and turning.

“Yeah. Just drifted right off,” he said. There was a certain look in her eyes that he had been oblivious to before, but not anymore. Was it hunger? Curiosity?

Maybe. But he would foster it. Encourage it, until it spilled over like he had.

She flushed, then turned to take something out the fridge.

“What d’ye fancy tonight?” she said, bending down to get to the vegetable drawers at the bottom. Her pants stretched enticingly over her bum. The blood rushed to his groin again.

“I don’t know. I’m actually not that hungry,” he said breathlessly.

She turned to look at him, still bent over. Her back arched. “You sure?” she said. Her eyes searched his face, sensing something different.

“Positive,” he replied, leaning back against the counter to take her in.

She took a little longer than she needed to put away the carrots and celery.

[kevkesblog]

Fabian Süle Interview (spring 2018)

As you can guess, this was recorded before the World Cup 2018.

F:      I’m Fabian Süle. 25 years old. Originally from Frankfurt but now studying in Munich.

N:     Oh you already speak about your studies… (laughs) So what do you study?

F:      I do my masters degree in International Business at the Munich Business School.

N:     And what’s the goal?

F:      Well yeah… hopefully getting into an industry thats fun. Having a good job. But not anything specific at this point.

N:     So I would like to go back to your childhood (laughs) it’s like a therapy here…

F:      (laughs)

N:     …ahm. You are here because the overarching theme is football. You played football yourself for a pretty long time, didn’t you?

F:      I did, yes.

N:     How old were you, when you first started?

F:      I was three years old.

N:     Three!?

F:      Yeah… at a local team. Probably I started playing or kicking a ball around since I was able to walk or to crawl. But I was three when I signed up with a local football team.

N:     Is that legal!? (laughs)

F:      Yeah it is! You can also sign up right after birth, that’s totally fine.

N:     So you are bascially like a „silent member“ of a club… but the balls were still lighter back then right!?

F:      Lighter, smaller… it was a lot about coordination and stuff. Fun was still the focus back then. It’s not football in a way people are used to. But still I have good memories about that time.

N:     Was that part of your family? With your dad, or…?

F:      Generally speaking – sports, yes. My father played football. My mother was an athlete. And yeah my father bascially put football in our cradle. The fact that we both play football. Niklas and myself.

N:     Yes – because your brother is…

F:      Niklas Süle. (smiles)

N:     Very nice. Ok, then Niklas was born and he saw you playing with the ball in the garden and he wanted to join…

F:      Yeah that’s pretty much the story. We started fighting over every ball and it went back and forth once we got older.

N:     And has there ever been a different sport in your lives?

F:      Ah, yes. I played tennis for a while. But it wasn’t that long – perhaps eight months or a year. Niklas was very talented in all sports I have to say. He did athletics – won everything. He became local champion in table tennis once. Football I guess in his youth he score over 150 goals one time. And in the end he settled with football.

N:     I mean you played sports yourself… back in day did you feel that, there was something different about him than you? Did you think you were both the same… or… don’t pay any attention about stuff like that first?

F:      You don’t pay attention. But you sensed that Niklas had an unbelievable talent… something I had as well but the difference was that Niklas was physcially always ahead and more mature for his age. He was always very big. Very physically. Fast. And those features really worked for him and it’s something that played an important role when you are in a young age. And that was different with me – I developed later than him.

N:     So you really matured when you were like seventeen…

F:      Yeah you can say that…. I was always the small guy. And I grew up quickly once I became fifteen or sixteen years old.

N:     And did he clearly say, the other sports don’t really play a role anymore. It was just football?

F:      I was really like that, yes. Other sports were also fun for him, but football was really his thing. For both of us. And that’s what we stuck to ever since.

N:     How was it with you – I mean at one point you quit playing. Were the reasons only your body and your injuries?

F:      Yeah, well actually I quit playing just a couple of months ago. And the reason was honestly just school. Since I have a lot to do currently. I would like to play again. Back when I was seventeen I played on a very high level – very successfully. Then I suddently got injured. I tored a ligament and broke my middle foot. And I got surgery and I saw that I couldn’t go any higher in terms of football. After that I got an offer from New York for a scholarship and went to New York for four years.

N:     Oh great, so you combined it…

F:      Exactly. Thats possible in America and now I‘m back in Munich since August and do my masters degree.

N:     Nice. How was that experience?

F:      Indescribable! New York is the best city in the world – by far! There is nothing better than that – the people, the culture, the city itself… the possibility to play football, studying at college… I traveled a lot. Saw nice places. So I would really say those were the best four years of my life.

N:     Sounds great. How did you experienced football in America? I mean, there are usually other sports that are bigger over there. American football, basketball… football is still growing but… whats your experience?

F:      Many international stars are now moving over there. Training is much better here in Europe or Germany for that matter. Especially in terms of tactical training and techniques. American soccer is more physical. So you have to get used to the speed and physical aspect of it… but nevertheless it’s really interesting to watch. It also has a higher status now than maybe back a couple of years ago. And like I said, it was a very nice experience. Even during college when you play. There were games were you flew to a certain place and you played in front of 10.000 maybe 15.000 fans. That was really cool!

N:     The big stadium experience so to speak…

F:      Yeah that’s almost like that, yes.

N:     So how was like for you, seeing your little brother playing in a stadium for the first time?

F:      It was May 11, 2013 – I remember that. Against Hamburg. He played with Hoffenheim at that stage. A defender got a yellow card from the previous game and got suspended. So Niklas slipped in as a seventeen year old. Unfortunately they lost 1-4 but I think I was more nervous on the stands than he was on the pitch. It was something great. Something exicting. And it’s difficult to realize. So when you look how fast time has run and you see how much he works for it – it’s really impressive!

N:     Niklas is still very young…

F:      He is still very young, yes. With 22 years of age you are maybe not the player that is called „a great talent“ in the Bundesliga – because that now usually starts with sixteen or seventeen year olds. Nevertheless he is in a phase where one can say, there is still room for improvement – in all aspects. With him as a person, as well as in terms of his style of football. And he definitely has some good years ahead of him… hopefully!

N:     I want to go back to your home… You kicked your first balls back in your garden. Did you guys have any idols? Any german football players? National players where you had posters on your walls?

F:      Well, not idols. Maybe you can say my father – but that is selfevident for many people I would say. What we did was we used to play Anfield Road in our garden. Because we used to watch the Premier League with our father and we both were huge Liverpool fans. And since english football is known for its physical aspect and for the rainy weather… so we used to take the hose and made the grass in our garden wet so we could tackle each other better – and that’s something we did almost every day. (smiles)

N:     (laughs)

F:      …and we went to the local pitch in our neighbourhood. But no we didn’t really have idols.

N:     No real role models?

F:      Yes. I struggle to remember… all I can say is we used to sleep in Eintracht Frankfurt bed linen. I know Niklas once wrote his favorite team was Energie Cootbus - into a friends diary back in first grade. Like I said those are stories I can barely remember but nothing more than that.

N:     Was there ever a point where one of you said „I want to become a football player“ or did you have other professions you wanted to become? Fire fighter, astronaut, pilot…

F:      It was always being a football player. Even if you listen to stories from our parents, or family, or friends… whenever they talk about our childhood, it was football all day long.  

N:     Weren’t you sometimes annoying your mother about this? Didn’t she came to you once and went like „Oh god why football all the time?“?

F:      I think she was happy that we got outside once in a while. We really went outside quit a lot and played on a football grounds in our neighbourhood. We played from two o’clock mid-day until eight in the evening with friends.

N:     You also have hungarian relatives. Do you have any relationship with them?

F:      Ahm, not really. We still have one aunts and two or three relatives back in Hungary. But we don’t have so much contact. I mean… I would say it’s not present in our daily lives, but you know where you coming from. Especially in terms of livelihoods there. But we haven’t been to Hungary for a long time. The last time was maybe… seven or eight years ago.

N:      Do you know one or two words?

          (9:20min)

 F:      I can’t speak it. I could say „Thanks“ I guess it’s called „köszönöm“; „please“ is „kérem“ but that’s it…

N:     Ok…

F:      No. But we don’t speak Hungarian. My father doesn’t either…

N:     But why?

F:      They never taught us. So it’s not present.

N:     Your favourite food?

F:      Yeah…. ahm, something with spagetti. In all shape and forms. Spagetti with vegetables with tomato sauce, chicken, shrimps… I cook alot myself. I also like to try out new things. But a favourite food… I mean… pizza!?

N:     Do you sometimes eat with Niklas before a game?

F:      Not before a game, since they’re always in the hotel. Or they are in the „facility“ as it is called these days (smiles) but I do cook something whenever I’m vitising him once in a while. Sometimes we do stuff together with his girlfriend. That also happens occasionally.

N:     His favourite food?

F:      Salate.

N:     Salate?

F:      Salate! Yes.

N:     Very healthy!

F:      Yes it is healthy. But I have to say, in that regard Niklas has developed in a very professional way. I have to say, Niklas also did interview with the DFB where he said he was kind of a bon vivant – he said he sometimes treats himself something. I think it’s important. But what he also understood by now and what he found interest in eating healthier stuff and try out new things. Sure you sometimes eat pizza or pasta, but it’s quit good how he managed it by now.

N:     So the body also changes…?

F:      Your body and your demeanor. I guess the older you get, the more you think about stuff like that. Especially in terms of optimizing your skill and performance. It’s not always about practice; what his players, coaches or family tell him to do – you always have to find your own path and I think Niklas did very well in that regard.

N:     Are you there if something bad happens if there’s pressure? If you don‘t perform as expected? Or your body does not do what you want? Does he have someone he calls… and have a good cry?

F:      No, he never really does that. I would say Niklas is mentaly very strong. And he can withstand pressure pretty good. He can handle those things pretty well. We… we talk about stuff, if it’s a bad game or special things happen. But I view him as someone who can deal with those issues pretty well – coming from him. Which isn’t always a given with many others.

N:     Do you think he separates that?

F:      Yes…

N:    Do you think he doesn’t take it personally?

F:      Niklas is someone who understands what it means to be professional football player playing on a high level. He knows you need a certain dedication for the sport. And you have to adjust your way of living around football. But Niklas is also someone who understands that there are many other important things in life as well. Like family, health… accepting other people just how they are. And he is very conscious about the fact that there is more than just football in your life.

N:     That’s something he has…

F:      Yes. But him being able to distinguish both sides is a weakness some may say, but I think for him it’s a strengh. And the fact that he act like that and plays that way.

N:     What is he doing if he’s not on the pitch?

F:      He likes to play golf. We are together very often, whether it’s going out for lunch, chilling at his home…

N:     Whenever you chill… playstation?

F:      Sure. (smiles)

N:     Does he take himself, when he plays FIFA?

F:      He often want’s to play with a different team. I usually pick Bayern and play against him, yeah. And also so I can annoy him (smiles). And we also play board games…

N:     Sorry to interrupt you, but if you play against each other, does he sometimes tackle himself in the game?

F:      It happend. But I wouldn’t say on purpose. With us it’s more about personal rivalry. Both of us want to win. The other brother is always angry and sometimes we don’t talk for about twenty minutes whenever someone of us is loosing, playing FIFA or other games. But everything is fine after a while… Yet we do know how to entertain each other.

N:     Sorry I interruped you, you said board games…

F:      Playing board games in the evening is something we do once in a while, if we are not in front of the TV. Me, Niklas, together with his girlfriend. Things like monopoly… just anything actually. Just to talk is something we like to do as well.

N:     Nice. Russia…

F:      Russia…

N:     How is your feeling about the tournament? Do you think he’ll make it into the final squad?

F:      Like everyone else I hope he will. But I do think he will be there, yes.

N:     Will you go?

F:      Depends. If they - what I suspect, make it far into the tournament, I guess I would fly over for a game. But since it’s so far away – it’s still three, four months and it depends on so many small things as well – I can’t really give a final answer.

N:     But you would like to go?

F:      Absolutely.

N:     Have you been to Russia before?

F:      No I haven’t. Thats a country I haven’t seen yet. Very interesting in terms of culture and you can go there and watch a football game - sure.

N:     One question: does he have a favourite song?

F:      A favourite song?

N:     Yes…

F:      No, not really to be honest. We both listen to alot of music that is roughly the same.

N:     That being…

F:      Hip Hop, R’n’B sometimes house, but more hip hop. But… there are so many new songs coming out all the time, so you get a favourite song every now and then.

N:     But in terms of music you bascially are on the same page?

F:      Yeah, definitely. You can say that.

N:     So how do you see yourself over the coming years?

F:      For me personally?

N:     Yep.

F:      Well I will finish up my second semester of school. I will go abroad again. Finish my masters degree. I hope to find a job then – it doesn’t have to be in Germany. America or everywhere in the world could be possible too. A job that’s fun. Where I have to take responsibility. Where I can develop as an individual. In the long run, sure you always dream about having a family. A house. But since things are changing so rapidly these days, I can also think short-term and face the challanges of the day.

N:     But your future – based on what you told us – won’t be in sports right?

F:      No not really.

N:     Well it’s surprising.

F:      Yeah… I mean I would love to play football myself. I guess I will start playing at some point, since it means alot to me. In terms of sport I will always be there and present for Niklas. But I personally see my future in the industrial sector and outside of sports.

N:     Could that be a reason why you went to New York. To have a certain distance – some room for your own development?

F:      The most important thing for me is – and thats something our mother always told us: be independent and self-reliant. You have to take responsibility for yourself. You have to be able to look after yourself. I went to New York for two reasons: independence was one of them. In order to mature and grow up more. Become self-reliant. The other reason was to have some experience in a foreign country. I have never been away for a long period of time before. Niklas went to Hoffenheim when he was fourteen. And that’s something I told myself, where it would do me a favour if I can see different places too.

N:     Was it weird, once he went to Hoffenheim?

F:      It was weird, yes. We always lived together and then he moved out when he was fourteen…

N:     …that’s very young.

F:      It is. It was very difficult. We also didn’t have a good relationship back then. We used to argue a lot around that time. But ever since then, it now developed – because we both put effort in it – into a perfect desicion.

N:     Nice. One last thing, ehm… could you tell us your wish for Russia. What do you hope for the world cup 2018?

F:      I hope Niklas becomes part of a team that playes successful and good football. A team that represents Germany, where you can say afterwards you are proud of the team. Independently from results… sometimes you need luck, sure. My wish for Niklas is that, he makes a lot of wonderful memories. That he stays healthy and gets to know the world cup feeling around it and how the people are. And I hope that he can experiences stuff where he can say looking back and tell his children or other people about, in the future…  

[our-elven-lady-of-chaos]

You Are My Home Ch 3

I apologize for the delay guys.  Infinity War did a number on me, as I’m sure you all have experienced, but here’s an extra long chapter to make up for it!  Mostly domestic fluff at this point.

Need to catch up?

Ch 1: https://our-elven-lady-of-chaos.tumblr.com/post/170647725968/you-are-my-home

Ch 2: https://our-elven-lady-of-chaos.tumblr.com/post/171125860283/you-are-my-home-ch-2

A Fresh Start

Shortly after, the group says their goodbyes and return to the tower, only after Frigga admonishes both her boys to be good and look after their lady friend.  Thor blushes while Loki mumbles something unintelligible under his breath, which, judging by her laughter Lysandra probably picked up with her fey hearing.

Lys leads Loki to a room he is informed is his, and is to receive a more complete tour of the amenities the tower has to offer after dinner.  The room is sparsely decorated with black furniture with gold accents, the bedclothes a deep emerald hue.

“I did what I could here, with what Thor told me about you, but we can work on it a little more later,” Lysandra told him nervously.  She had managed alright when Thor was with them, but now that she was alone in his bedroom with him...that was another story completely.  Loki studied his new surroundings without saying much other than the occasional ‘okay’ or ‘good’, but his eyes seemed to light up when she pointed out the small bookshelf near the bed.  He immediately wrapped her in a tight hug, which was strong, but not nearly as bone crushing as those of his brother.  This was something she could get used to, or even come to enjoy.

“Thank...thank you,” Loki responded somewhat nervously, casually leaning back on his heels.  “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be so considerate when I was brought here.”

She nodded understandingly.  “I’ll show you the library later, but for now I figured I’d put a few of my favorites in here for you.”  She stood there watching him thumb through the titles on the shelf, a small smile lighting up her face at the joy she’d given him.  Pure, unbridled, child-like joy.   The Hobbit.  The Lord of the Rings.  Heart of Darkness.  Flowers for Algernon.  Till We Have Faces.  Frankenstein.  Crime and Punishment.  A handful of books of poetry from the likes of Lord Byron, Percy Shelley, and Emily Dickinson.  Mostly classics, but a handful of modern authors such as Neil Gaiman and Matt Haig as well.  She had carefully hand-crafted her selection based on what was the most interesting and what would convey the most humanity to the god as well.  She almost couldn’t believe it, that this man who was supposed to be the “monster” that terrorized New York had such a weakness for a good book.  It was sickeningly cute.

She got up to leave for a shower and allow Loki to become more acclimated to his new abode.  “If you need anything, I’m right next door, and Thor is just across from us.  It’s just the three of us on this floor, and there’s a small kitchen that I’ll show you later.”  Loki almost looked pained to see her leaving so soon, though his pride would never allow him to admit it.  It was rare that he made friends with anyone, and one that actually got along well with his brother even more scarce.  “I’ll be back later, I promise,” she assured him, reading his emotions perfectly.  Loki merely nodded. “Rest well,” he bade her, wanting to say more but uncharacteristically unable to find his words.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Thor waved her over from the lounge area across the hall.  She quickly made her way over to plop herself down on the plush orange couch across from him, casually resting her feet on the coffee table.  The God of Thunder smiled over at her as she let out a contented sigh.  

“Thorrr,”  she whined. “What did you need me for?  I’m all sweaty and gross still.” She sat up slightly to address him a little more properly.  He offered her the bag of corn chips he was currently munching on, which she politely declined.  Seeing the crumbs and bits of guacamole stuck in his beard was enough to keep her from getting mad at him for finishing nearly half of the large bowl she had made already.

“I just wanted to make sure that my little brother was adjusting properly,”  He replied between a mouthful of chips.  “And that he wasn’t upsetting you.  I know he can be…”  he scratched his beard in thought as he searched for the appropriate Midgardian term.  “A bit of an ass, as Tony would say, but once you’ve earned his respect he’s a lot more likable.  Fun, even.”

Lys nodded in understanding.  “He was fine.  A little withdrawn, but I was too when Tony first brought me on the team as something more than just his own personal healer.”

Thor smiled gently at the memory.  “Ah, yes, I remember.  I was rather shocked to see you again after all this time, but pleased.  And yet, I feel we’ve still got a lot of catching up to do.  Just the three of us.”

Lysandra let out a heavy sigh at the idea.  Digging up the past was emotionally exhausting, especially when it meant either coming to terms with her fey heritage, or the memory of all the mortal lives that had gone by while she remained yet unchanged.  She reluctantly pulled herself up off of the overstuffed sofa, but paused on her way out to pose one more question.

“I’ve been given an awful lot of warnings about your brother’s behavior, but he’s been on nothing but his best behavior ever since I’ve met him.  I’m not sure what I’m supposed to believe about him.  Is this normal, or…?”

Thor chuckled.  “Ah, yes, my brother can be quite the mystery, especially with the women he fancies.  He is renown for his mischievous ways, but the vast majority of the time it is all in the name of a good joke.  He is not an inherently cruel person, unless he is pushed to be so.”  He strokes his beard wistfully, lost in the memories for a moment.  “As he once told me, ‘He will treat you as a gentleman ought to, until you ask him not to.”

Lysandra snorted.  “Sounds like quite the character.  I bet once they get over sniping over each other like children, him and Tony will be great friends.”  Thor lets out a great boom of laughter in agreement.  “Indeed.  Go on, shower up, though I can assure you that you smell perfectly fine,” he chides her.  He was so the overly protective but goofy older brother she never knew she wanted.  

“Stinky Asgardian warrior.”  She sticks out her tongue at him.

“Prissy fae princess.” Thor laughs.

Dinner was to be just a quiet affair between Lysandra and the two Asgardians.  After finishing with her shower, Lysandra took control of the kitchen and began cooking up a storm.  She wanted to ensure that Loki’s first real taste of Midgardian cuisine was at least decent, and not whatever takeout Tony usually settled on.  It had to be a good old fashioned home cooked meal, so she settled for a basic pasta dish with both a red and pesto sauce, sausage and meatballs, and salad and bread on the side.  As usual, Thor made a pest of himself, wanting to sample everything while she was still preparing things rather than helping.

“Come on Lysandra!” Thor begged.  “Can’t I have just a little taste?”

She swatted his hand away with the spoon she was currently using to stir the sauce.  “You’ve done more than that already, your chin has parmesan and tomato sauce on it.”  Thor gave her his best puppy dog look. “Don’t give me that look.  Now go fetch your brother for dinner while I get this stuff on the table.”

Thor grumbled about it but did as he was told, returning relatively quickly with a Loki who was having some difficulty trying to walk and read at the same time.  You would think that after a thousand years he would have either gotten better at it or learned not to do so in unfamiliar places, but no.  At least he was virtually indestructible, the walls and countertops he had bumped into doing little to phase him from the pursuit of good reading material.  Lysandra busied herself pouring everyone a bit of elven wine as she waited for the two semi-grumpy gods to sit.  Thankfully she didn’t have to tell Loki to separate himself from his book, as he perked up a bit at the familiar scent and decided she was worth keeping an eye on.  

Lys gave Thor a nod to tell him that he could finally dig in to the food.  Loki rolled his eyes at his brother’s all too familiar antics as he helped himself to some bread and salad.  “Thor you oaf, there’s a thing here called salad that you’re supposed to eat first.  Or at least I imagine the order of the courses has not changed just because we’re on Midgard.”  Thor immediately muttered something about salad being more for prissy elves under his breath, but accepted the bowl Loki prepared for him.  Lysandra merely glared at him for the comment.

“So, what do you think?”  Lysandra asked Loki as he reached for his third serving of spaghetti and proceeded to drown it in the meaty red sauce.  She couldn’t help the blush that crept onto her face as she watched him lick a spot rather languidly from his thumb.  Loki grinned.  “Surprisingly good, for midgardian fare.  Although I’m sure your not being mortal has something to do with it.  How do you even manage to acquire elven wine in a place like this?”

She gave him an even cheekier grin in response.  “I have my sources.”  

Loki raised an eyebrow in question, silently begging her to go on.

Lysandra blushes.  “New York has a thriving magical community, if you know where to look.  There’s a lot of half-breeds and a good quarter of the population is probably more mortal than not, but I know a few people who can get me what I need.”  

Loki perks up with interest.

“I’d love to show you around sometime, since your brother isn’t nearly as interested in old tomes and rare herbs with magical properties as I am…”

“Hey!”  Thor sputters indignantly before taking a moment to mull around what was actually said.

“It’s true, brother,” Loki reminds him.  Thor shrugs nonchalantly in response.

...”But you have to prove to Tony that you can be let out of the tower with a chaperone and expected to behave first.  Sound fair?”

Loki hums in thought for a moment, then nods in approval.  “So it’s a date then?” he asks with a cheeky grin.

“What?  No, of course not!”  Lysandra sputters in surprise.  

“Still sounds like a date to me,” Thor points out, awkwardly attempting to show Loki how to do a fistbump.  “No, brother, like this.  It’s not meant to inflict pain, like a high five.”

“You’re not helping, Thor!”

Loki laughs at the absurdness of it all.

Afterwards, the pair resumed their tour.  First they went to the training room, where Lysandra explained what their typical schedule would look like while she was working with him.  Loki was pleased to find that Lysandra was well versed enough in magic to understand his capabilities and limits, just as Frigga had reassured him.  But what intrigued him most was the special locked room just for magic training.

“Once I get a feel for your style, we’re going to do most of our drills in here,” Lysandra informed him upon unlocking the door.  The room gave off a weird vibe as he stepped into it.  It wasn’t negative, though he could tell that everything in the room was heavily warded, including the training robots.  

“What’s with all the protection?” Loki asked her curiously.  

“The wards protect everything in here from being destroyed by magic, otherwise Tony would kill me for the amount of paint alone that would have to be replaced,” she responded with a chuckle.  “The robots have sensors on them that indicate the amount of damage they’ve taken, and keeps track of the number of lethal hits.”  Loki regarded the large metal men with an air of curiosity.  Out of all the Avengers, Tony was the one he was the most impressive, well, for a mortal at least.  

“This room has also been warded against teleportation, and the door won’t open for you until I’ve put your magic limiting cuffs back on,” she explained with a grin.  “Ah, so that’s how it works,” Loki replied, turning one of the thin gold bands that now surrounded his wrists.  “Well, I suppose it could be worse.  At least I’m not stuck with a complete imbecile for an instructor whose lack of magical knowledge will land me in the medical ward, and these are at least somewhat...fashionable?  I suppose I have you to thank for that as well?”

She nodded, her grin widening in response.  “I figured you’d be less...hostile about your captivity if we tailored things more to your liking.”  He smiled back at her, a relatively easy thing for him to do, as she was surprisingly pleasant company for a friend of his brother.

He nodded thoughtfully.  “It’s a gilded cage, but still a cage, nonetheless.  Still, I’m grateful that at least someone is looking out for me, aside from my oaf of a brother.”  He gave her a quick affectionate peck on the cheek.  Lys blushes profusely, completely unused to that sort of contact.  Loki grinned even wider at her reaction.  Her innocence was absolutely endearing to him. 

After seeing the rest of the training rooms, the two of them somehow found themselves in Lysandra’s chambers.  They had agreed that Loki had more than enough reading material at the moment (although somehow the god had already gotten through The Hobbit), not to mention the fact that Lysandra’s private collection of magical texts was a lot more intriguing.  Plus she had promised him dessert and tea.  “A woman after my own heart”  Loki mused.  

The god busied himself sifting through her older tomes as Lysandra was off procuring said sweets from the kitchen.  She popped back in with a tray of tiramisu, chocolate covered madeleines, and two steaming mugs of English breakfast tea, prepared with just the right amount of cream and sugar.  Loki carefully removed a handful of older, fragile looking magical texts and went to join her on the couch.

“Set those down on the table for now,” Lysandra instructed him.  “They’re probably older than the both of us put together AND Thor.”

He let out a good natured laugh.  “I can assure you that your books are in good hands. My brother, on the other hand...”

“Just shut up and taste this already,”  she says, thrusting him a plate of cake and a fork.  

Loki studied the spongey layered cake for a moment and took a dainty bite, then quickly demolished it.

“That good, eh?”

Loki nodded, setting his plate down to pick up his tea.  “We have all manners of cakes and pastries and whatnot back home, but nothing like this,”  he said indicating a few stray flakes of chocolate.

“Ah, chocolate.  I see you’re a fan,”  she replied with a devilish grin.  Her plan of buttering Loki up by plying him with sweets and books was going splendidly.  

Loki nods, too busy eating for a proper response.  They fall into a comfortable silence for a bit, until he remembers the dusty tomes that had been calling to him like a siren’s song.  He wipes his fingers clean and magiks the plates clean and away before gingerly picking up the one at the top of the stack and cracked it open.  He skimmed through it for a few minutes before reaching for the next, where halfway through he made a startling discovery.  After finding something to save his place, he goes through the rest of the stack with mostly the same result.

“These...these books are all in various forms of elvish,”  Loki said in awestruck wonder.  “Most of them, at least.  And this one…”  he waved around an ancient looking green text with silver leaf pages before cracking it open for a closer look.  “...This one is in some old fae tongue even I cannot decipher.  Yet.”  

“That one is supposed to be locked away with the rest - crap!” Lysandra mutters, reaching for that last one.  

Loki quirks an eyebrow, smirking at her.  “I take it you can read it then?”

She huffs in frustration at being caught.  “It’s in my library, isn’t it?”

Loki’s grin widens.  She waves her hand again, and he gives in and returns the mysterious book to her.  “Well?”  

She rolls her eyes at him.  “This one’s more of a collection of poetry and epics, which is why I had it out.”

“But you can read it, as well as the ones in elvish?”

“Yes?  Should I be concerned that you can apparently read them as well?”

Loki laughs at this.  “You’re quite interesting, for one of my brother’s friends.  I like that!”  

She shot him a look of exasperation.  

“I am a prince, I learned from the best,”  he says with a shrug, as a means of explanation.  “Plus Allspeak can generally fill in most of the gaps, aside from some of the most ancient languages.”  He leans back, stretching out to his full height while mentally taking note to take full advantage of the sort of magical sanctuary he had found her sitting room to be.  Much more welcoming than any other place in the tower he’d found, so far.  Much more like home, and the company wasn’t half bad either.

I do hope this was worth the wait.  I’d love to hear from you all, even if you just want to talk about the latest ACOTAR book or bitch about how hot it is right now (living in SoCal is seriously not fun right now guys).  But really, it does help keep me going.

Also, I’m (attempting to) starting on some sort of Soulmate AU, so keep your eyes peeled for that.

XOXO Yoshi

[ihaveanimagine]

You pick the skelebros, please include classic. They find out that their s/o is a writer, and writes amazing stories, full fledged books, but never shows anyone because she thinks they’re shit. She writes mostly romance, and a lot of it is monster x human, and then she also writes fantasy, but usually portrays the humans as the villain, not the monsters. She has one book, that is actually about everything that has happened since they fell into the underground, in extreme detail. Everything.

(I did UT, MT and Gaster!Sans and Papyrus)

Undertale!Sans

Sans found out about your work through Alphys who hadrecently fallen in love with your newest novel involving a “Shape ofWater” vibe and showed it to Sans who instantly recognized the Author’sname. Wanting to reveal he knows of your books in the cheekiest way possible,Sans asks Alphys for the cheesiest romance novel you made, and she hands himthis book called “The Tale of the Underground”.

Sans kinda just snorts at the title, inwardly squealing athow cute the title was and began to read it. He was surprised that this wasBASICALLY your diary dictating your thoughts as you travelled the Undergroundand…ooooohh boy, haha, Sans pulled at the collar on his shirt.

Ho boy was this detailed.

Marking the page, Sans went home and awaited your arrival.The second you walked in the door with a distracted “Hey, Babe!” Sansopened the book and read aloud: “…after sans had licked the red spaghetti sauceoff his teeth, i suddenly had the hugest urge to kiss his teeth until my lipswere numb.“

Silence was the only response he received.

“that offerstill stand, dear?”

Undertale!Papyrus

This sweet cinnamon roll was simply dusting (the dirt kind,not the dead monster kind) the house when he came across an unfinished booksitting on your desk wide open. Papyrus wasn’t one to snoop, he honestly didn’tmean to, but he saw the words “Papyrus” and “Gorgeous” nextto each other and allowed himself to read several one chapter.

Wowie!! Whoever this author is must have VERY good sourcesbecause it sounds like his wonderful S/O wrote this from entirely their persep-OH!! IT WAS!! Papyrus felt a wave of embarrassment and fluster overflow hisemotions. H-HE REALLY SHOULDN’T CONTINUE, BUT…HIS S/O OBVIOUSLY PUT A LOT OFWORK INTO THIS BOOK A-AND HE SHOULD BE ABLE TO GIVE AN ADEQUATE CRITIQUE!!

So he read everything up until the part you stopped writing(which he spent a good 10 minutes mourning over) before rushing back to hischores, waiting for you to get home later tonight.

Once you walked in the door Papyrus scooped you in his arms,twirled you around and planted a big fat kiss to your lips before allowing youto speak.

“Wh-what’s withthe greeting?” You asked, face completely red from blushing, “N-notthat I mind!” Papyrus simply grinned and kissed you again before helpingyou brush off the snow from your clothes.

“OH, NOTHING INPARRICULAR, I JUST WANTED TO HELP OUT MY ADORING SWEETHEART!”

“Aww, that’s awfully sweet of you!”

“WELL OF COURSE!! ALTHOUGH MAY I ASK A QUICK QUESTION?”

“Shoot.”

“HOW EXACTLY AM I A ‘PRECIOUS NOODLEBONES SKELE-BEAN THATCAN MAKE GLOOMY DAYS GO EXTINCT BY SOUNDING LIKE A BABY RATTLE SNAKE WHENEVERMY BONES RATTLE WHEN I’M HAPPY’?”

You just knew thatsentence was going to come back and haunt you….

Mafiatale!Sans (Colt)

He’s supposed to be grabbing a book on “how to wash bloodstains out of white clothes” when he sees your name scrawled across a bookin the “bestseller” section of the bookstore. At first he thinks it’s acoincidence, but then he picks up the book and thumbs through it, when this employee bounces along andasks if he’s interested in the series.

Series???? This should be good. Naturally, he says “yeah, but I dunno where tostart” which allows the employee to gush about how much she loves your work and how it has almost exclusivelyhuman/monster pairings that more often than not revealed the darker side ofhumanity through satirical situations and comedic monster characters.

Colt had to snort a little at that, not that he wasjudging (he was probably the reason you began the monster/human pairingsanyway) but he knew how much you wanted to repeatedly smack the whole ofhumanity with a baseball bat until it gained some sense and hey, the pen ismightier than the sword, right?

So after Colt accidentallybought one of the shorter book series, and a book labelled “Trip Down Under” heleft the store (completely forgetting his original goal) and began devouringthe books whenever you weren’t with him.

Once he got to “Trip Down Under” he nearly had a heart attack.Before this book, he thought your other ones were marvelously written, balancingpure, unadulterated snark with mushy romance (a trait that he was proud toadmit only he was the recipient of irl)but this one was………an extremelydetailed step-by-step walkthrough of your entire trip in the Underground.

Granted, there were different names and places andenvironments used, but this was creepy!!!He specifically remembered having this exactsame conversation with you at 1am about whether or not condiments were anacceptable flavor spice for pet foods that the protag and her romantic interestwere having.

So, what does he do? After his post-mission meeting withDon Asgore ends and he heads home and proceeds to do your normal routine of smothering each otherin relieved affection before placing his hand on your back and the other onyour head, dipping you backwards.

With a feral grin, he leaned in and whispered to you: “Am Iliving up to your expectations as your bone-ified,straight-shooting, suave-talking punster of a soulmate?”

You suddenly regretted every life choice you’ve ever made.

Mafiatale!Papyrus (Sniper)

This guy was most likely gossiping with Bayonet (Undyne)when she offhandedly mentioned this romance novel series she was reading thatwas set in a fantasy world that had a boss fight similar to the one she experienced when you had gone through Waterfall. Shethought it was just a coincidence, after all, the fight became common knowledge after a while but Sniper’s experience taught him nothingwas a coincidence.

So he went and Googled everything he could about thisauthor. 

He found online versions of your books, and read the book that Bayonet said she was reading, and BOY WAS HE SURPRISED. You certainly were detailed in your adventures, but you changed enough facts and names and places so it seemed that every important Family Secret you experienced were all different.

Being the little prankster he was, Sniper wanted to give you a scare. But, in order to do that, he had to pretend he had just heard about your book, and went and Google’d a picture of you.

WOWZA, DOES THIS PERSON LOOK FAMILIAR!!! HEY, S/O! COME LOOK AT THISPERSON!! YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOU HAD A TWIN!!!

You briefly considered lying to him when you felt embarrassment and a bit of fear well up inside you, but that idea wasquickly erased. “Sniper, darling….that’s….that’s me!”

Sniper looked back and forth between you andyour online picture before turning to you with a flirtatious smile: “OH GOOD, FOR A MINUTE I THOUGHT SOMEONE HADSTOLEN MY RECIPE FOR FONDUE! WINK!”

“OH MY GOSH, SNIPER!!!!”

Gaster!Sans (G)

You and G were out on a casual date in the town, arms linked, pulling you close together as you wandered aimlessly, idly chatting abouteverything and anything. Your romantic peace was interrupted by a pair of girlswho spotted you entering the park and ran over to greet you.

They immediately began squealing about your latest bookcalled “Echoes of Home” which set you off into an internal panic, G WASN’TSUPPOSED TO FIND OUT ABOUT THIS BOOK, OH STARS YOU WERE GOING TO DIE OF EMBARRASSMENT!!!

Without any regard for your dwindling dignity, the girlscontinued to fangirl about “Echoes of Home” Going on and on and on about howmuch they fell so hard for the “teeth-grindinglyhot-headed, self-righteous, aloof little jerk of a hunk”.

At one point in the conversation one girl looked over at Gwho had been relatively silent and said with an awe-struck face “Is this him???”She almost screamed with glee. Sensing this was your way out, your shushedloudly and began dragging G away with a quick wink to the girls who giggled andwaved goodbye (you were sure one was about to faint from swooning so hard).

Once you were both out of earshot G threw you a curious look“what was that about?” He asked, your face erupted into color and tried tobrush it off as nothing.

The matter was dropped until you walked past a bookstore with “Echoes of Home”displayed proudly on the window, showcasing the edition of the book with a picture of the main characters in each other’s embrace. “ain’t nuthin, huh?” He asked with anincreasing smirk, you frantically tried to pry G away, but CURSE HIS STRENGTH he was too hard to move!!

“huh, this guy on the cover looks like a weird version ofme. total coincidence, am i right?”

“YEP, ABSOLUTELY, LET’S GO NOW!!”

“ah, darlin’ I’m messing with ya. I’ve known about your bookwriting career for a while.”

“You wHAT!?”

“yeah, your fangirls are rabid.”

Cue an embarrassment-induced faint.

Gaster!Papyrus (Aster)

Aster was out on a grocery runwhen he came across an elderly woman struggling with her bags and decided tohelp her. While he was stuffing the bags inside her car, the old woman hadmentioned that he reminded her of the main protagonist in this book: Tall,suave, drop-dead gorgeous, and the personification of chivalry.

Since there wasn’t aplethora of writers in the Underground, Aster made an inquiry as to who thewriter was, the old woman couldn’t remember for the life of her, but she didgive him the book’s title and recommended he read them as soon as possible.

And so he did.

The book was a romance novel filledwith cheesy fantasies that were definitely made for the hopeless romantics.Scenarios of tall but gentlemanly heroes with a passion for science or artoften guided or encouraged a lost, starry-eyed female to follow her dreams andscrew with the system if it tried to stop her.

After several novels, hefinally read the one the old lady had recommended him, and, oh dear, is that-!!???It is!!!!

This book was a, uh, detailed edition of your travels in theUnderground.

He knows this because he’s the one who taught you thatspecific chemical formula of the carbohydrate strings which would allow foroptimum flavor!!!

And- hey wait, he rememberedthis part!! This was when he took you out on your first official date with him!!He was always so scared he over did it on the pulling out all your chairs,taking your coat, having no physical contact beyond hand holding or arm linkingbut this narrative showed that you-you….oh….didyou really think that?????

Aster felt his face explode incolor and he had to put the book he felt so flustered.

Later, when you came homethat day from a sleepover with Alphys and Undyne, Aster met you at the door likenormal, took your coat, kissed your cheek and asked you how your day was. Onceyou both got the pleasantries out of the way, Pap circled his arms around youand bent down.

“Do I really make you swoonjust by existing, my darling star?”

[onewheelneil]

Israel day 8

Today the plan is to head down south the the desert to play with some camels and sleep in some tents. Also more importantly is to see the holocaust museum and cemetery. I got up at 7 am because of the late night out and did my morning routine. Breakfast had waffles and the yummy bread pudding. The waffles were shit compared to my dad’s waffles so that was sad. I quickly ate up my portion and got my bags out to the bus. It was a big morning because a lot of tour groups were leaving including a Chinese one but they didn’t look like they wanted to speak to a foreigner so I left that alone. We all got on the bus struggled to count off with the hangovers and were on our way to the holocaust museum. As we pulled up I could see the interesting architecture of the area. The whole entire memorial is on 55 acres of land with a mountain (only 500 meters high but still considered a mountain in Israel). As we entered the memorial site we walked down a tunnel that opened up to a beautiful view of the surrounding area. It was beautiful to see before this deep emotional tour. We met our tour guide, a bubbly older man named Hershey, and he first showed us a model of the entire 55 acres of memorial. He then brought us outside before the entrance to the museum and showed us how all the trees planted were part of the memorial and had a plaque commemorating the person who planted it. They were both carab trees and they signified life as precious since the seeds all weighed the same and they signified the weight of diamonds and gold. Then he led us into the museum where we spent almost all of our time. One funny thing he mentioned was that the museum looked like a toberlone bar and it really did. The museum was organized in a really cool way that you had to zig zag back and forth across the main hallway into different rooms. Each room explained the holocaust from start to finish from how the Nazi party came to power to when the concentration camps were liberated. The place was very quiet except for tour guides talking into their microphones while everyone listened with a receiver. It was pretty crowded with people squeezing past each other but it made it like the experience of living in a concentration camp. We came up to an exhibit of a bunch of burned shoes that were once attached to the bodies of Jews that were burned in the camps. It was sickening to see but necessary to see what they experienced in these horrible conditions. We moved on to a video of Americans liberating a concentration camp but having to dispose of all the bodies left behind. It was absolutely vile how the Germans treated these innocent people. They were starving to the point where they were living corpses of skin and bone. Nothing more. The Americans liberated as much as they could but they didn’t come fast enough to save everyone and the looks in their faces in the video showed that so well. As we somberly watched the video the guide explained what was going on in his serious but never dull voice. For someone who does this tour probably several times a day he does so with as much empathy as his first. In the last room it showed 680 pictures of very memorable faces that died in the holocaust as well including an American Air Force member who was caught as a POW and killed for being Jewish. After leaving the museum we walked over the children’s memorial to remember the 1.5 million children who was killed during this holocaust. It was darkened hallway that reminded me of an infinity mirror room with lit lanterns in different spots but reflected enough times to signify all the souls lost just by children alone. It was very memorable and I will never forget the way the symbolized this horrific tragedy. After crying my way through all of this we thanked the guide for an unforgettable experience and our guide said a few words himself. After this deep emotional experience we headed on over to lunch. Once we left the grounds of the memorial it felt like a cloud burning away as everyone started chatting about how hungry they were. We arrived to a little mall area where I bought a chicken shawarma that I happily ate up. It was perfectly seasoned and had salad, hummus, tahini, mango sauce, pickles, and eggplant. This wasn’t the best shawarma wrap but it was still really good. Nothing I wouldn’t recommend. Afterwards I got some ice cream (chocolate and cookie dough) to help fill me up and cook me off. Lunch was only an hour so I just hung out with other sitting nearby talking about travels and other cool stories from our life. Eventually the time came and we all met up before heading to the next destination: Mt. Hertzel. It was a short bus ride over there. This mountain symbolizes all the lives lost from terror attacks in Israel. There are graves all over the place and all IDF soldiers have to be in full uniform when on this mountain. The soldiers told stories of terror attacks from recent times during this year. Not trying to push Israeli innocence and Palestinian evils but just showing the reality of terror attacks all over this land because we are Jews. Next they took us to a heavily decorated grave. The guys name was Michael and he was an American Jew who volunteered to be part of the IDF. He was a paratrooper and was remembered for his smile. He said there is nothing more I’d be willing to die for. He was shot on patrol by a terrorist at a house he was camping at. They then let us wander a specific part of the cemetery to look at all the graves there and look at the pictures. Once we had some time to look around one of the soldiers told us about a story of one of the soldiers buried there. He jumped on a grenade to save his other soldier’s lives. He did it for the idea that we should think of others above our own life. Then our guard that was on the trip to protect us told us about his best friend buried there and how he died. They were camped in a house and three terrorists surprised them which is unusual because usually they have intelligence of where all the terrorists are. They shot his friend in the neck and he died on transit to the hospital but our guard didn’t know that until he had finished his 18 day mission. It was very sad and almost everyone was in tears because we had never seen our beloved guard like this before with such raw emotion. We all comforted each other which was beautiful on its own way on the way to the bathrooms and then bus to go south to ride some camels. It was a 2 hour bus ride and with everyone’s emotions we got even closer. To pass the time I sat next to some people I got along with and started beat boxing soon enough we had a rapping party because one of the girls writes raps. The guard came back and we entertained him with a rap but he quickly went back to the front of the bus after that. We got to the Bedouin tents but actually didn’t have enough time to ride the camels so we will do it tomorrow morning. We got to the tent and picked a little mattress and sleeping bag before heading to the introduction. At the introduction a Bedouin guide told us about how the bedouins transformed over the years. It was really funny how the government and technology transformed these people lives. They used to be traveling tribes but had to settle and turn into villages. They had to get education and try to conform to city life. It was difficult for some of them but eventually they found a way to mix Bedouin culture with settled culture. Now they have a tourist camp for people like us to learn more about traditional Bedouin culture. Afterwards they introduced us to a traditional dinner of using pita to scoop up and eat rice and beef. You could also add hummus and cucumber and pickles as well. It was cool to see traditional eating habits with an Israeli twist. Afterwards we met to do some meditation/star gazing. We started walking into the dark with only red headlights to lead us. This was in order to keep our night vision. Once we got to our spot we spread out and sat in little groups or by ourself. We went through some good educational astronomy to find the North Star easier and other constellations. When we talked about the stars he had a laser pointer that he could point at the stars way easier. Once we finished talking about the stars we went through guided meditation to connect with ourselves. As we were looking up at the stars our guide played very peaceful music. He told us stuff to think about but my mind was totally focused on the stars I wasn’t listening to him at all. I saw about 5 shooting stars that night so that was awesome. As people listened or dozed off we became relaxed and open about our personal emotions. Once we were done meditating we shared our personal feelings with each other some emotional some humorous some educational about each other. It was very raw just like the rest of the day earlier. Many people shared and some people didn’t and it was all good. We all became a closer and cried a lot together today and I think it was the final push to bring us together as one family. We were out sharing and looking at stars for over 2 hours. A dog came by and started licking us all while we were trying to share so that was a little bit of a distraction. A couple of us had to pee so we walked away from the group to take care of that business. We then did a prayer for health for one of our members who had to go home early for her grandfather who was close to her and we wanted to do something nice for her. Then we made our way back to the campsite. We were getting ready to make a campfire when the staff leaders came up and told us that some people were missing stuff so to check our bags. Unfortunately some people had their stuff stolen while we were out including 500 sheckels and nice Bose headphones. They reported it to the police so they came over and interviewed them. It didn’t put a downer on the mood and the songs around the bonfire quickly resumed. It was a great moment and people from the other birthright came over and mingled. This went on until 1 am and beyond until I decided to hit the hay and get to sleep. Thanks for reading!

[lonedailydoodle]

Daily Doodle 155/365 - June 4, 2017

It can be the smallest of things that can brighten a whole night until you notice you just experiences the best night of your life

And I will get to that in just a sec!

Today was feeling off from the get-go, I had to rush down to Pixie’s house, saw a pretty leaf camouflage moth while refueling and then noticed the roads were nearly empty in the city.. though it WAS very early on a Sunday morning, so I guess that’s why.. I loved it

Once there, we headed out to have a subway for breakfast, laughed lots and then headed on a new route to pick up a very very old friend who we thought was long lost as he went quiet. This person brightened the day as well as it never got boring moments without him

Today we were supposed to go to this expo, but we realized later there was no one cosplaying, so Pixie would stick out a lot while fursuiting there, so instead we browsed around normally and once more friends arrived, Pixie and his friend put their suits on and walked around, got a few pictures but the expo was just too small and not air conditioned. So we decided on leaving early, which wasn’t a problem since we got to see what we expected to see and was better than previous small “cons” we have went to! And Pixie got a silly old Beast toy as well. We also took a big selfie! YAY! I get to show up in pictures with my friends this time! :’D

We left to a friend’s place so he could get some money he had left at his condo. While there we experienced an old couple of people trying to park and failing badly. I was about to get out after about 3 minutes of them trying but they eventually managed to park. Helpful deed failed.. either way, the day kept going

Once we arrived at the mall, we just browsed around as usual. There was a massive car expo inside but no Tesla for me to sit on and dream on D: We ate and I tried Taco Bell’s Chicken Chips and loved them! Not very filling, but tasty indeed.. also, Pixie and his friends did another disgusting dip like that one he did with ice cream, ketchup and bbq sauce last time, but this time it was guacamole, cheese, chocolate and ketchup.. I tried it, big mistake, it was horrid

After these shenanigans, we browsed some more until two of our friends had to leave. I resisted the urge to buy anything else and survived that.. maybe I’m getting better at saving money!

We eventually left and got surprised when our friend bought Pixie a Stitch button he was looking at earlier, which was so sweet! The little things, guys!

We dropped this friend at him home after a while and had a long talk to know what had happened to him and why he had vanished. After half an hour of catching up, we left to have a quick date at the usual pizzeria, had our delicious pizza, Pixie had his marinara sauce he loves with his pizza and we eventually left home

But the day didn’t end there, even as we got to Pixie’s house at around 8pm, we stayed outside talking. We talked about EVERYTHING. How his secondary sona got created, how he started meeting people online, how he met the fandom, silly stories, horror stories, dreams, nightmares, embarrassing moments, how we got our Santa and “Reyes Magos” magic ruined and many more things.. I wanted to stay there longer, but I realized I had stayed much longer than I had thought, it was almost time for me to start drawing my doodle even, I stayed until nearly 10pm! So we hugged and kissed lots before leaving. I left very happily knowing we talked so much and enjoyed each other’s company, it was such a good night! We got to look at the stars all along as we talked sitting on the sidewalk and leaning against my car. It was something to remember..

Now I’m at home writing this without power yet again, but that doesn’t ruin the small things that happened tonight~

[weekendwarriorblog]

The Highs and Very Low Lows of 2017

I’ve been forsaking this blog for the past few months, but honestly, you can probably consider yourself lucky I’m still around even to write a blog, because 2017 nearly broke me. Not in a small way either. The fact that I could survive a type of cancer that once had a 40% survival rate but then be taken down by a year full of absolute and total bullshit gives you some idea of what it takes for me to reach said breaking point.

But I don’t want to start this on a downer, and I hope to have time over the holidays to write a few things about other positive aspects of the year including writing something about my favorite albums.

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be 5,000 words complaining about Trump or the government cause as far as I’m concerned, the government has always sucked. Republicans have always sucked, and yet, clearly they have a better idea how to sway votes… to a point. That’s all the politics I’m going to talk about here.

In fact, now that I think about it, I’m not even sure I can find too many “highs” but I guess my trips to the Oxford, Sarasota and Fantasia Film Festivals were all enjoyable, though I’m not sure I’ll be attending any of them in 2018.

I’m not even sure I want to talk too much about my own work situation this year, because my attempt at freelancing failed miserably, and I was lucky to have found a great job, completely by accident.

Most Importantly: Thank You To My Beloved Friends and Family. I Wouldn’t Be Here Without You

Because of some of the sucky things that happened this year, I found myself leaning on my friends more than I normally would, and a couple friends probably found themselves a bit over their heads dealing with “Ed’s summer slump.” I honestly reached a point where I wasn’t sure if I could deal with all the stress and aggravation of living in the city without really earning a living, something that I haven’t had to deal with in 12 years or more.  I have to give special credit to my brother Rob as he, for the second time in five years, came to my rescue when I literally wasn’t sure how to deal with everything that had been piling up on me over the year, including losing a job, struggling as a freelancer, dealing with health issues and just feeling that everyone else’s very vocal aggravations about the President were starting to weigh me down on top of my own personal problems. But there are other great friends who probably would be too embarrassed for me to mention them by name, but if you’re reading this, I’m sure you know who you are.

How Jeff Sneider Saved My Life… Twice

In July, I had just gotten back from Fantasia a little less than two months after I’d been let go by a website that you will never hear me mention by name. Things were bad as I had blown through most of the savings I had built up before leaving ComingSoon, and there just didn’t seem to be any light on the horizon. I probably was sending out 9-10 resumes a week and getting zero responses, and I was getting very frustrated, having pretty much given up on making a living as a freelancer.

Can’t remember what I was doing when I saw a tweet from Jeff Sneider about Drew McWeeny joining the Tracking Board as the Chief Film Critic. Many people know that Drew and I haven’t always seen eye to eye over the years, but we’ve known each other for a long time and there’s no denying what he’s brought to the internet entertainment reporting/film criticism game with his years of service at AICN and then Hitfix.

Anyway, learning that the Tracking Board—which i never really knew much about before— had hired Drew was intriguing to me so I went over to check out the site, saw a button that said something like “Work at the Tracking Board.”  So I said, “Why not?” clicked the link and saw that they were looking for an experienced entertainment reporter. I filled out the form, attached my resume and cover letter and as soon as I hit send I saw that they were looking for someone in L.A. “Oh, well,” I thought, “Couldn’t hurt to try.”

A couple days later I got a call from Jeff saying that they might need an East coast person and that they had a couple people they were talking to. So I didn’t really get my hopes up and my luck has been so bad the last year that I was shocked to hear from Jeff at all. The crazy thing is that before Jeff’s call, we had barely had a conversation in many years. I remember him being this young guy in New York around the time we both were starting up (me at CS and him at AICN), and I remember him being treated pretty badly by some of my colleagues (there was a lot of jealousy towards AICN back then). But he seemed okay,  and I was always impressed by the way he made his way as a Variety reporter, then being a top reporter at The Wrap.  To get a call from him kind of blew my mind. To find out a few days later that they were interested in having me join Tracking Board was even more exciting and it only took a few talks to work out a deal and I started at Tracking Board on August 1. 
The thing is that I am loving this job so far. It’s both challenging and satisfying and lets me do what I love while also learning new things about the business of moviemaking beyond what I get out of doing interviews. Besides Jeff, I work with a great group of women in editorial including managing editor Emily and Linda, the TV editor. I’m literally the bottom man on the totem pole and I’m perfectly fine with that.  I’m also learning a lot from Jeff, who is so knowledgable as an industry insider and reporter … I’m especially looking forward to learning how to cut the lines at film festivals under his tutelage. :)

(The second time Jeff saved my life.. or at least, in this case, my job, is below.)

What Can I Say About My Health?

I’m still alive, so there’s that. Not sure if you remember that I had been posting a lot on Facebook mainly about the side effects of the shingles I contracted in Jan 16. I’d love to say that things have improved but they haven’t, and I’ve been suffering from post-herpetic neuralgia for over a year now. That part of my face still flares up with either aggravating itching or burning pain about twice or three times a day and the painkillers I’m on (non-opioids, thank you!) have only gone so far.  If you’ve seen “Marathon Man” you’ll probably remember the scene where Dustin Hoffman was being tortured by putting a metal pick into the nerves of his teeth… that kind of pain is what I feel on half of my forehead.

I decided a few months back to start taking vitamins to maybe help my face repair all the nerve damage in there and I think it’s helping although I think the process of my nerves knitting themselves back together might be causing some of the itching and pain.  Between the shingles and my scratching (usually at night while I’m asleep), it’s left that part of my face quite a mess. (See above.) This is partially why I haven’t been doing any of those video interviews the past two years.and not sure when I’ll be comfortable to do on-camera work again.

Anyway, this is another source of aggravation beyond everything else above and below.

This next section is called “Don’t Know What You Got (Till Its Gone)” (with apologies to Cinderella —the band, not the Disney character)

I Lost a Dear Friend

Probably one of the most tragic events this year was the death of my good friend Sandra Orion, which you can read about HERE. Sandy will be greatly missed for a long time and it’s gonna be hard to get over not having had a chance to say “Goodbye.” You can read that whole story HERE, but if nothing else, this has taught me to always appreciate your friends, loved one and other important people in your life, and never take anyone for granted, because you never know when they’ll be gone.

Cup and Saucer Closes

The night before I was heading up to Fantasia in early July, a friend of mine texted me and asked if I knew that the Cup and Saucer was closing. The Cup and Sauce was a local diner where I have gotten coffee every day for the past 23 years (or at least when I’m in town). I never ordered in. I would always get dressed enough to go out in public to walk the two or three blocks to the Cup and Saucer and get coffee or iced coffee, depending on the weather. Because I don’t really cook (or shop enough), I would eat most of my morning meals there and I’d been going there long enough that they usually could guess what I wanted with just a few words.

Anyway, I was told that Cup and Saucer was closing so I went the next morning before my flight to find out what was happening and the owner John said that they would be closing down but hoped they could still work things out. He also said that they might be around the following week when I’d be back from Montreal.  I got back and sure enough, the place was closed and though I still go by there a lot (mainly to get food at the bodega across the street where neither the food nor service is anywhere on par with C&S), I haven’t seen John or anyone else there anytime it seemed like the place was open.  This past week I noticed that they had put signs for “Pizza” and “Fried Chicken” making it obvious that someone was turning the place into one of those awful cheap food establishments you see near and inside the Port Authority and Penn Station.  Considering how many cheap bus companies have been parking in my neighborhood, clogging up the sidewalks, it’s no surprise that the area is transforming from a dingy but cool Lower East Side melting pot into Port Authority South.

But Cup and Saucer made some of the best coffee in town and I’ve had a hard time finding a cup of coffee that good in my neighborhood.

If this closure wasn’t a significant enough event to affect me, it became an even bigger deal when the Village Voice posted a story on Jeremiah Moss and the cover of that issue? The Cup and Saucer. What a way to go out.

No More Village Voice  (in print, at least)

There might not be such things as coincidences, but it seemed like the writing might have been on the wall for Village Voice after putting my departing diner on its cover. Only a few short months later, it was announced that the city’s free newspaper, the Village Voice, was going to end its print edition. Again, getting a copy of the Village Voice was something I would do on a weekly basis since moving to New York over 30 years ago. 

Bilge Ebiri and his staff had been doing such a great job with the film coverage in the paper, even nabbing more covers than usual for features on David Lynch and others. It made me look forward to Wednesdays more than usual and when the print edition signed off in September (????), it was another tragic end to the era. Obviously, there’s still all the reviews and features online but it’s just not the same thing as grabbing the tome of a paper at the single kiosk in my neighborhood. It’s very strange to lose two traditions and rituals in one year.

311 Is a Joke In This Town

Adding to all those changes above, my neighborhood somehow became even noisier this past year than it’s been in the 24 years I’ve lived in my Lower East Side apartment. I have no idea what’s happening because nothing has changed but the fire engines at the nearby local station seem to be even louder as they blaze past my window, there seems to be more of those annoying Chinatown buses who blare their horns at all hours of the night and morning… and the forklifts. Holy fucking shit… for the entire year I’ve had to deal with these really loud forklifts at the supply companies across the street as early as 3 in the morning. (If you don’t live in Chinatown or work in a Chinese restaurant, you won’t know what I’m talking about, but the supply companies are the ones that get all the food items lik broccolli for the Chinese restaurants in the city, of which there are a lot.)

And those noises start up almost EVERY night at 3 in the morning except for Sundays. The beeping doesn’t necessarily wake me up every night but if I’m awake between 3AM and 3:30 (which happens a lot) I might not be able to get back to sleep due to the beeping… oh, and also the large wooden pallets that drop onto the sidewalk (empty ones) that make it even worse. I’ve called 311 a number of times, I’ve written a complain on the NYC.gov website with no luck because whenever someone is sent out to investigate, they get there when they’re not making noise. And during the daytime it’s almost worse because the entire other side of Allen Street across from my window is made up of these supply/trading companies. (When I’m home, I’ll try to get a picture to show you what kind of chaos I’m dealing with.)

and then came…

November 1

Honestly, I really don’t have much more that I want to say about the events that happened the day after having a wonderful time at Ted Geoghegan’s annual Halloween party the night before, but it was one of the most humiliating and debilitating moments OF MY LIFE. That’s not even an exaggeration. I made a mistake, I apologized and I’m still regretting opening my stupid “mouth” on social media in the current climate. While others might forgive and forget, I lost a lot because of six ill-thought tweets that I don’t even want to get into, but most of the flack I’m STILL being hassled by people who don’t know me well enough to know that THAT WAS NOT ME. (Yes, it was me typing the words, but it wasn’t me or my feelings towards anyone who has been assaulted or raped, so to be called a “rape apologist” by people who don’t know me at all has been one of the most hurtful aspects of a year in which I was already ready to give up just months earlier.)

Anyway, Jeff Sneider had my back again. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for him to convince his bosses I was worth keeping around, but he somehow did, and I’m eternally grateful for that fact. As I said above, I have a new-found respect for Jeff after working with him for a few months.

The six or seven weeks since the above incident have generally improved and I’m getting back into the swing of working the 9 to 5 again. I’m looking forward to everything that’s planned for 2018 both with the site and in my own life.

My own personal hopes for 2018? Well, I have to lose some weight, hopefully join a gym (once I get my finances back together), maybe get past this nerve damage bullshit. (Maybe once I have real insurance again, I can go see a neurologist.)

Hopefully there will be a lot more to place on the “high” side of the ledger next year. (Sorry, Mom, don’t expect another family wedding any time soon.)

[sightandfire]

Address: 14910 Pines Blvd Pembroke Pines, FL, 33027

It’s a great thing when you sit at a table and are treated to a culinary experience by an innovative chef; it’s another thing when those foods are paired elegantly with craft beers that enrich and push the flavor profiles of both the food & beer as they are paired better together than apart. This is what we encountered when Chef Jason Arroyo invited us to a beer pairing dinner at Russo’s Italian Kitchen in Pembroke Pines.

But before I get into the amazing dinner we experienced that night, I would like to delve into the story of Chef Jason Arroyo .

While talking to Chef Arroyo after the event had ended, I asked him a couple questions to kind of figure out what led him to be who he was today. He had told me that he first got into cooking at an early age; he remembers as far back as when he was 7 years old that he started making simple things like eggs and grilled cheese sandwiches & even went as far as to make his own version of an alfredo sauce with ingredients like sour cream, butter and parmesan cheese! I don’t know about you, but to me that is one creative seven year old.

His love of cooking only grew as the years rolled on; he started culinary school immediately after graduating high school at Johnson & Wales-North Miami while working in the industry at the same time. A year after he started the culinary program, he dropped out to of school to strictly focus on working because he was able to sustain himself financially at such a young age; who didn’t dream of living on their own and getting out of their parents place? That didn’t last though, being the type of person that never leaves anything incomplete he reapplied to the culinary program at Le cordon bleu in Miami and graduated with his degree 4 years later. He had told me while we were chatting that “culinary school definitely gives a great foundation, but working in the field has taught me the more than any program can offer.”

Chef Arroyo worked at Michael’s Genuine for 4 years and the last two years while he was there he was promoted to sous chef under Head Chef Niven Patel of Ghee Miami. He also had small stints at Sugarcane, Bocce Bar and a year as sous chef at a French brasserie La Goulue (currently closed) and he also worked Don Shulas Hotel And Golf Club as banquet chef as well; but to me, that last place of employment was probably the most important of all the other positions he has ever held.

He had met his now fiancee Karla years ago while working at Don Shulas; she had worked reservations and they became very good friends while Chef Arroyo was employed there. After he left, neither of them saw or communicated with each other up until about 8 or 9 years later through social media. They had reconnected, were both at a point in their lives where they were ready for a relationship and started seeing each other exclusively a few short months later; and then 9 more months after that their gorgeous little daughter was born & they are now currently engaged to be wed.

Fun Fact: Karla had told us that she was new to the whole social media scene when she had started her Facebook and Instagram profiles. One day scrolling through her Instagram feed she saw someone who looked like Jason (it was him) and she thought “Nah, that can’t be him.” She didn’t know how to verify if it was him or not, so her sister took the reigns and creeped a bit and found out that person was in fact Jason; and thanks to her sister (who friend requested Jason for her) they were reconnected after almost a decade.

Karla is the owner/General manager of Russo’s Pembroke Pines, but while managing/maintaining the restaurant, she still holds it down in the kitchen to this day! After their daughter was born, they had lost their morning cook at Russo’s and Karla would be on the line cooking, managing the restaurant and taking care of their baby all at the same time. Jason could not stand by and let his fiancee burden all that responsibility alone. So he jumped on board as soon as he could and Jason & Karla have been working together ever since.

After having had worked there a while, Jason needed a creative outlet to push his ingenuity & thank goodness he had an amazing partner in Karla that agreed. Their family friend Phil Reis, who at the time was working for Gold Coast Distributing as their craft beer manager, had suggested that Jason explore his creativity in the realm of beer pairing dinners. And since that discussion almost two years ago, they have done 17 beer pairing dinners and 3 wine dinners. All the food Jason uses are locally sourced for his events. He had told me he visits local markets like Sun Fresh Farms in Davie, FL for produce, eggs, and other fresh & local ingredients; and you can definitely taste the freshness in the dishes he prepares. Having been involved in so many beer pairing dinners in the last couple years, Jason says that he’s acquired a higher tolerance/taste for craft beers and that they have opened up his palette and allowed him to mix & match some amazing new dishes.

Speaking of amazing dishes, let me introduce you to the menu we were offered this evening!

And as you can see above, Dogfish Head was the provider of beer for this event.

We started with butter fried crab stuffed baozi served with a mustard glaze which was paired with Seaquench Berliner. What I loved about this dish was the salty and bready tastes from the crab bun was matched perfectly with the acidity of the Seaquench Berliner. The crab was fresh and a bit salty and the bun was soft yet crisp and the beers acidic flavor profile offset the taste of the crab bun amazingly.

Next up on the menu was a shaved brussel sprout salad with puffed farro, dried cranberries, bottarga and a black garlic-chili dressing which was paired with Truth Serum IPA. This was paired fantastically because you got a flourish of flavors from the brussel sprouts with the cranberries and the garlic chili dressing and that was paired with a beer that you got a nice hoppy, citrusy flavor profile which ended up being a melody in your mouth; the IPA was also smooth and crisp and went down easy.

Next we had duck and Grits- char roasted romanesca veronica and fermented blueberries with Dogfish Heads Pennsylvania Tuxedo. This dish was amazing! All the different flavors converging on your palette at once was something you definitely had to be there to experience. The beer (which was brewed with fresh green spruce tips) screamed “it’s the holidays!” The citrusy notes that have an aftertaste of straight pine resonated well with the gamey duck, cheesy grits & fermented blueberries!

Then we went into what was probably my favorite dish of the evening. We had a miso seared petite filet mignon with autumn succotash paired with the Burton Baton oak aged IPA. The two beers that were blended together in Dogfish Head’s Oak Fermenter was the 90 min IPA & their English Strong Ale. The filet was so juicy, tender and cooked to perfection, it practically melted in your mouth. That with the flavors from the root vegetables, corn and the miso glaze just made you slow down, take a moment and savor every bite. And after finishing the filet and taking a sip from the oak aged IPA which had a nice hoppy character, but wasn’t over bearing because of how it was aged in an oak barrel, you just felt a sense of relief and pure joy. You can taste the oak and the malts with a slight hint of vanilla. The two beers that were blended together in Dogfish Head’s Oak Fermenter was the 90 min IPA & their English Strong Ale.

And now the perfect way to wrap up any beer pairing dinner, DESSERT! For which we had a Honey Toffee Crunch Babka which was paired with Dogfish Head’s 120 min IPA! This pairing could not have been more perfect; The babka which came with crunchy flakes, frangeline caramel and pumpkin whipped cream was sweet, but not overbearing. And the different tastes from all three things coming together was just too good to have only one. And the reason the 120 min IPA paired so well with this was because you can’t even taste the malts or hops at all; the 120 min IPA is more like a cognac than a beer. It ranges from 15-20% ABV per batch because it depends on how the yeast reacts during fermentation. They beer is fermented in (3) different tanks so they can get the ABV that high, that’s why there’s the variance in the ABV.

Fun Fact: The conventional oven broke earlier that day, so Chef Arroyo had to make the babka in the brick oven that they usually use for pizzas in the restaurant; and honestly, I’m happy that happened! It came out amazing!

All in all, this was another beer pairing dinner that falls short of words. From the innovation and creativity that flowed out of that kitchen to the amazing beers that were provided by Dogfish Head and paired elegantly with the food to the ingredient that made everything that came out of that kitchen taste so much better, love.

Till the next time my friends.

Cheers!

Website: Russo’s Italian Kitchen

Instagram: @russos_pines/@contradition/ @kt285

Facebook: Russo’s Pembroke Pines

Twitter: Russo’s Pembroke Pines

Russo’s Beer Pairing Dinner Address: 14910 Pines Blvd Pembroke Pines, FL, 33027 It's a great thing when you sit at a table and are treated to a culinary experience by an innovative chef; it's another thing when those foods are paired elegantly with craft beers that enrich and push the flavor profiles of both the food & beer as they are paired better together than apart.