#customer service is great y’all

[elluminis]

A customer was being a bitch to one of our bussers (who doesn’t speak English) and so her server (who is incredibly good at his job and also assistant manager) purposefully yet subtly spilled grease and sauce on the ground and into the ends of her hair

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Cherries

Jiraiya x Reader. MDNI 18+ only. Ao3

You’re a waitress at a gambling club, and a fan of Jiraiya’s book, when he comes into your club you can’t help yourself from going home with him.

This was kind of inspired by the song Cherries by Annie Kemble, a good friend of mine. It’s a great song, give it a listen even if you don’t wanna read this fic. But I hope y’all do both. Love y’all as always <3 Doodle

Content notes: SMUT, smoking, drinking, pussy eating, uncut dick (b/c why would anyone in the Naruto universe be circumcised?), jiraiya is his own warning tbh.

The sound of shouting players, and the smell of smoke was second nature to you now. You had been working in the parlor for two years, serving drinks, selling and lighting cigarettes, loading pipes and blowing on dice. You were frequently propositioned by customers for more salacious services, many offered money. Sometimes you would take it, if you were feeling comfortable enough, or the price was enough to tempt you, they never asked too much of you. Usually short encounters, over before the sun rose again. You had no problem making money this way, and why should you? You were working, you were talented in this regard, they had a good time and paid you well. As long as you kept yourself safe from harm, you rarely even got nervous anymore.

Tonight had been on the slower side, the middle of the week wasn’t often popular for gambling. You hadn’t been tipped that well, two different tables had stiffed you completely. You didn’t think you would be walking home pleased with your purse tonight. Breaking from the foggy main room, you slipped into the private bathroom reserved only for employees. Your makeup was immaculate still, but you applied another layer of ruby colored lipstick, patting it lightly with your finger before cleaning up the edges. You mussed your hair slightly in an attempt to give it more volume, before giving yourself one last look and smiling. You were beautiful, you were so grateful to know it and feel it.

While you were in the bathroom, Jiraya entered the parlor. His boisterous laugh gathered the attention of everyone, his hulking figure shook the table as he sat down at one of the games. The energy around him was light and fun, people of course recognized him and were excited to buy a man of such legend drinks, or play against him. Of course he wasn’t a great gambler, Jiraya was primarily here to get drunk and to flirt, shaking off another long day of training and mentorship. His eyes rose from the game table just in time to catch the most beautiful woman he had ever seen exiting from the back of the parlor. Well done up, makeup clean and vibrant, showing elegance with a clear personality that he would love to discover. Styled hair, pulled away from her working face, but falling perfectly where it could to give the appearance of casual effort. He was shaken by the man sitting next to him, and brought back to the game. Barely paying any attention, he offered a raised bet, and lost near instantly. He didn’t care, he took the last of his drink and shot it back, standing from the table and moving through the crowd over to where you were reloading your tray with drinks.

“Hello, gorgeous.” The alcohol had reddened his cheeks and lowered his already rock bottom inhibitions.

You gave him a practiced smile and began to lift the probably overloaded tray, “hello sir, is there something you might need from me?”

“I’ve got a couple ideas, but I’ll save them until you’ve dropped that tray off.” He took a seat on the available bar stool next to the drink well, “don’t worry about me, honey, I’ll still be here when you get back.”

You giggled flirtatiously, ever the professional, before passing him to deliver the bottles of sake and beer to your patrons. You swished your hips as you walked, knowing he was staring at you. You didn’t mind, he was a bit older than your usual type but you knew his reputation.

Master Jiraya of the legendary Sanin, you had even read one of his books. A girlfriend had recommended it to you, starting a scandalous book club you briefly belonged to. You were sure his writing was generous, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to find out for yourself. He was tall, and handsome, and fucking big. Everything about him was big: his body, his presence, his voice, his reputation. You wondered if everything else was just as big.

Clearing your tray, you turned back to the bar, he was still watching you. You assumed he had been the whole time. His dark brown eyes crinkled up at the sides following the line of a wide grin. The red markings down his cheeks bent and blending into his blushing alcohol fevered cheeks. You stood to his side, sliding in between stools and leaning your body against the counter. Flirting was part of your job, keeping the patrons entertained and engaged was just as much your work as serving drinks. Sure this may have had some selfish motives, but no one could say you weren’t working too.

“So….I have to confess something,” you flicked your eyes up at him, through your thick made up lashes.

“Oh sweetheart, I would love to hear a confession from you. Need me to offer you forgiveness?” He was becoming brazen, moving his large hand to your waist, which you leaned into.

“I’ve actually read a few of your books.” You moved your hand over the arm that he leaned on the bartop.

He watched you trail your finger over his forearm. He was flattered by your admission. His mouth was starting to water.

“Well, it’s always nice to meet a fan. Especially one as beautiful as you.” He watched you blush at his words, “do you have a copy? I’d love to sign it for you. Is it back in your bedroom?”

He started to stand up, but your hand was sturdy on his shoulder, pressing him back down onto the stool.

“Not so fast.” You smiled, your fingernails toying playfully with the hem of his sleeve, “I’m excited to meet you, Master Jiraya. And I’d be happy to continue spending time with you tonight. But you see, I’m still working. And I’m not finished here for another hour.”

You closed the distance between the two of you, fingers moving his long white hair over his shoulder and leaning in to brush your lips against his ear. He smelled like jasmine and pipe smoke, something else lingered as an undernote, something earthy and organic.

“I’d love for you to sign my book. I don’t live far, but you’ll have to wait until my shift is up. Think you can do that for me?” You pulled back, batting your eyelashes and pouting your lips, fingers still tangled in his hair and clothes.

His eyes were glassy but locked onto you, his heart pounding in his chest, if you looked hard enough you were sure you could see his pulse in his neck. He nodded and you nodded back, an agreement made and a promise to be kept.

“Can I top off your drink?” you offered, reaching across the bar top and not so subtly arching your back and grabbing a fresh sake bottle.

“Only if you share it with me,” his eyes licked over your body.

He couldn’t believe his luck. The most beautiful girl in the whole place not only was talking to him but knew his work, and seemed to be interested. You pulled an extra cup and filled both glasses, offering one to him. He accepted graciously, still struck by the ease of the whole situation.

“To your work.” You offered

“To your work.” He offered, tapping his glass against yours before drinking together.

You two shared the bottle over the next half hour. You would occasionally need to seperate yourself and assist your coworkers, who were also engaging in the night's entertainment and service. You didn’t have any more tables to yourself, so you were mostly running drinks and offering support. Everytime you left his side, Jiraya always waited patiently for you to come back to him.

“So what keeps you working here?” He asked upon one of your returns.

“I like it. The money's good, the hours are better,” you nudged his arm, “the people are interesting.”

“Are they?” He asked, catching your hand in his and running his thumb across the back of your knuckles.

His touch was hot against your skin, leaving little prickles of electricity in its wake. You weren’t sure when exactly it had happened, but you found yourself becoming more and more excited by the idea of spending the night with him. He was forward but had remained respectful, keeping his hands relegated to your arms and back, but never on your legs or hips. The conversation flowed naturally, he was actually very funny, giving plenty of chances for you to swoon at his wide smile. His good looks were filtered by age but he was still an incredibly handsome man, his strong nose leading up to his dark eyes, big lips growing wetter and looking softer at every passing shot.

“Yeah,” you answered, flipping his own hand over to run your index finger over the inside of his palm, tracing the lines, “although they aren’t usually so handsome. Or accomplished.you wouldn’t believe the amount of stories I’ve sat through about farming or markets.”

“You know, gorgeous, if I didn’t know any better. I’d start to worry you were playing me a bit. Are my stories boring you?” He watched your finger trace over his palm, and he watched when it stopped.

Your slender finger ceased its cartography of jiraiya's large palm, moving his hand over so it faced down. You slotted your fingers in between his. You let them linger for a moment, joined together, before bringing his knuckles up to your lips and kissing lightly. Your lipstick transferred lightly, leaving a red kiss mark across the ridge of two of his fingers. You met his gaze as you pulled away, his bottom lip was caught in between his teeth as he watched you.

“Not at all, Master Jiraiya. I feel quite fortunate to be talking to you tonight.” You set his hand back down on the table, but kept your hand tucked into his.

His voice shook slightly as he asked, “how much longer is your shift?”

Your eyes flicked over to the clock on one wall, “twelve more minutes. Think you can wait here while I wrap up?”

He nodded and breathed out, releasing himself from the previous moment of tension. He leaned back slightly as you stood up and walked to the back to settle your cash for the night and close out your final tabs. Besides Jiraya it had been a slow night for you, but despite the lower than expected take home pay, you felt giddy as you collected your final tabs and closed out with your bartender and manager. Before finishing up, you swung by the bar one last time. This time opting to not sit beside Jiraiya, but lean behind him, pressing your chest into his back and talking directly in his ear.

“You actually still have to settle your tab.” You reminded him, circling a lock of his hair around your finger.

“Ah, right.” He got the bartender's attention and closed his tab, leaving a hefty tip, “should I tip you as well? Or does that come later?”

He turned to face you, suddenly his ever confident aura had dimmed slightly, as though he had grown nervous.

“You're signing my book, that’s a great tip, especially after I sell it as a collector’s item for having a genuine signature!” You teased, laughing.

He laughed along with you before standing. You realized he towered over you, he was well above six feet, probably by another half. He looked down at you, your features enticing him in further and further. His mind raced, thinking of your eyes fluttering at him, how soft your lips felt against his hand, the smell of Cherry that followed you every time you walked past him.

“Why don’t you head outside, I’ll meet you out front after I grab my bag from the back.” You told him.

Just one more hurdle until you could finally have each other. The tension continued to build and build until you knew it would eventually compound in on itself. Hopefully in your bed, and hopefully again and again until the sun comes up.

“I’ll be waiting.” He said, and lifted your own hand to his lips this time. Offering a more dramatic, showman’s kiss before loudly smacking his lips off.

You hurried to the back to hang up your apron, grab your coat and bag, and say goodbye to your coworkers. You slipped out the back and walked around to the front of the building.

Jiraya waited patiently, but nervous. This wouldn’t be the first time he had been duped by a beautiful woman’s promise of a “good time”. When you finally emerged from the side of the building, his face lit up, shoulders relaxing as he took you in.

“I hope you didn’t think I was going to leave you out here.” You read his mind.

“Of course not, just enjoying the night air. It’s good to clear the mind.” He looked down at you, you had walked straight up to him, nearly chest to chest.

The two of you stood for a moment, then two. Breath syncing up, heart rate too. In the moonlight your features look softer, eyes sparkling up at him. Jiraya fought the urge to hold your cheeks and press your lips together, you were still outside of your place of work and he didn’t want to embarrass you.

“This way,” you finally took his hand and led him down the street.

Your conversations from inside the bar continued as you walked home with Jiraiya following you closely. Your walk home wasn’t far, only a few blocks, and he was right about the night air. You had only had a few glasses to drink, but the soft summer wind was already helping you feel more alert and awake. When you finally entered the grouping of apartments where you lived, you led him to your door.

“I wasn’t expecting company, so you’ll have to excuse the mess.” You said, you had actually just cleaned the previous day, but it couldn’t help to under promise and overdeliver.

Jiraiya couldn’t care less where you lived, or how, he was just so excited to be in the home of an incredible young woman who had invited him in. You opened the door, moonlight illuminating the dark living room. With him following closely, you moved to turn on a few lamps, brightening the space. Your place was nearly immaculate, not devoid of personality, but neat. You had drapery hung over your windows and around your light fixtures allowing the light to take on different hues. Purples, blues, and golds filled the space, casting patterned shadows over the walls.

“Wow, kid. Nice place. You do all this yourself?”, Jiraiya let out a low whistle, impressed with your home making skills already.

“Mhm,” you nodded, setting your bag down on your dining table.

You moved to undo the buttons of your coat, when you felt his hands slip around you from behind, his chest was right up against your back, his head stooped down to speak in your ear.

“Please, allow me.”, his fingers were quick to undo your buttons, moving smoothly up your lapels and sliding the jacket off of your shoulders, leaving them bare and chilled with excitement.

His smell of jasmine filled your space, you felt intoxicated with him already. His lips brushed the shell of your ear, then the juncture of your jaw and neck, then the side of your throat. You bit back a moan along with the urge to lean your head back against his chest.

“Are you trying to get out of signing my book?” You teased as his hand began to circle your waist.

He laughed, it shocked you a bit. The usually booming laugh, subdued and hot against your ear. He knew just how to play you. You turned to face him, stepping back slightly, not so subtly trying to regain your footing.

“Of course not,” Jiraiya smiled down at you, his large hands still in your waist, “you keep it next to your bed?”

You pushed his chest slightly, “you wish.”

You pulled out of his grasp and moved to a low bookshelf in your modest seating area, you had to bend over to retrieve it. You heard him suck in some air as you did so. Finally pulling the bound text from your shelf, you stood again and faced him. A blush crept up your face, you realized you had dogeared a few pages, which reminded you that you had actually made notes in a few margins. Maybe you liked this book a bit more than you let on. He noticed too, taking the book from you and opening to the first page.

“You have a pen?” He moved to sit cross legged on your floor over the coffee table.

You grabbed a writing utensil from your desk drawer and offered it to him, loving to sit next to him.

“Ah ah,” he tutted, hiding the book, “no peeking.”

You rolled your eyes and sat across from him instead. You watched him carefully as he thought of what to write, and with a devilish glint in his eye, started scribbling his autograph. He was taking longer than should be necessary for his name.

“You’re not writing something dirty in there, are you?” You tease, sliding your foot under the table to nudge his crossed leg..

“I already did, that’s why you like it so much.” He flirted back instantly, not even slightly shaken by your contact. He was clearly in his element.

Finally when he had finished his escription, he read over his own words. Giggling to himself, he brought the book up and mimed a kiss against the page, before blowing on it softly, to dry the ink.

“There you go, gorgeous. One of a kind.” He closed the book and set it on the table with his hand still over it, inviting you to try to take it from him.

You took the bait and reached over, he slid it just out of reach, “Almost.”

You got the game. Sliding around the table, you now were next to him, your hand fit next to his, fingers intertwining on the bound leather. You moved your body up his, with him seated and you on your knees, you were finally eye to eye with him. He watched you closely, pupils blown in excitement. You moved to sit on his lap, finally in a full embrace. He was so wide, it was hard to fully straddle him, but you managed. You could feel him getting hard underneath you, too many layers separated you from him. You could feel how wet you had gotten from the back and forth of tonight. You wanted him so bad. His large, delicious body, his experience, his charisma. It had all drawn you in. His hands moved from the table, abandoning the book and over slid your hips, then up your back and down again. The sensation was soothing and also titillating.

You felt yourself dampen further, and your breath increase. You moved your arms around his neck, leaning closer and closer, you could feel the tie that held his long hair back and you pulled until it came loose, allowing his white hair to fall freely. Your lips were so close to his, you could smell sake on his breath, you could feel his heart beating under you.

“Jiraiya?”, your lips were nearly against his as you spoke his name.

“Yes, gorgeous?”, His big hands squeezed your hips, keeping your firm against his clothed erection.

“Are you going to kiss me? Or are you going to make me beg you for it.” You looked at him under your lashes, catching his eye just in time to see him shudder a bit.

“All you had to do was ask.” He caught your lips in his, his hands on your hips pulling you closer to him.

His lips were so soft, but his kiss was so hard and passionate. His tongue immediately slipped between your lips, quickly mapping the inside of your mouth. He had the faintest taste of smoke, probably a pipe or cigarette from earlier in the night. His hands moved through his hair, tugging lightly, making him moan against your mouth.

“Such a pretty girl,” he mumbled between hot, wet kisses, “you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

Feeling emboldened by his praise, you moved one hand between your joined hips to stroke his hardened dick, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

His hips bucked at your touch, a half moan-half laugh sputtering from his lips. He cursed and pulled at the back of your shirt, removing it quickly. His hands were rough against your skin, decades of both training and writing causing his palms and fingers to callus. Your skin was so soft by juxtaposition, smooth and even, plump and vibrant. He removed your bra skillfully, your breasts spilling out for him to quickly latch his mouth onto.

You moaned, throwing your head back, “Master Jiraiya!”

He could barely hear you, he was completely immersed in how good it felt to have your bare chest in front of him, against his lips, against his tongue. He flicked his skilled tongue over your nipple, pulling back to watch it harden and peak.

“You’ve got such great tits, baby. Such a pretty thing for me.” He kissed up the side of your neck.

You were rocking your hips against his, trying desperately to pull more of those shocked moans from him in the process. Your hands moved under his tunic, unknotting the tie and pulling the sides apart. His chest was so broad, a large star shaped scar bloomed from the center outward. You had hooked up with shinobi before, you were familiar with the combat scars and various bruises to be found on their bodies. But this was unlike anything you had ever seen. It was expansive, and evidently distracting, as you had stopped your grinding to gawk at the large healed wound.

“Thought girls liked scars.” He joked.

You ran your hand down his chest, fingers exploring the topography of muscle and scar tissue.

“I do.” You leaned down to kiss the side of his neck, hand traveling further down to his hip bone and further to undo the tie of his pants.

“You work fast, honey.” He bit his lip trying to cover the moan your eager touch pulled from him.

You moved off his lap, now pulling his trousers along with you as you moved down his body, “worried you can’t keep up, old man?”

This struck something in him. Something competitive and cocky. Before you realized it he had you up on the couch, and he was kneeling between your legs.

“I hope you don’t mind if this old man takes a turn first?” He growled holding your hips in place as you tried to figure out just how he had moved you so quickly.

His hands pulled at the top of your skirt, undoing the zipper on the side and sliding it down your legs.

“It only feels fair after I so graciously gave you my autograph free of charge.” He removed your skirt completely, leaving you only in your red panties.

You were so wet already, the panties were sticking to you. You wanted them off so bad, you wanted him so bad. His hands ran up your thighs, Jiraiya delighting in the hot, smooth skin of a young woman writing under his touch. You were so gorgeous, a beautiful body, a beautiful face, charming and intelligent. He had no idea how he had gotten so lucky. You were looking at him so desperately, he could see how badly you wanted him. And if he wasn’t sure from your eyes and your words, you were practically dripping onto your own couch in front of him. He couldn’t wait any longer, he had to taste you for himself. Jiraiya leaned forward and took the front of your panties between his teeth, pulling them down, using his hands to roll the flimsy fabric off of your legs. A practiced move he had perfected over years, but never failed him.

Watching him remove your panties with his teeth had you moaning before he ever touched your aching pussy. He watched you gasp in awe and arch your back, body begging him to pleasure you. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. He slid your panties in his back pocket for later. He knew he was a pervert, but he couldn’t help himself.

Finally, with nothing separating him from your sex, Jiraiya moved your legs over his shoulder and pressed forward, giving you a long, languid lick all the way up your slit.

His tongue was devilish; skilled and wicked. Strong hands keeping your thighs in place as he devoured you. You couldn’t stop the wanton moans that spilled from you like a waterfall, he had barely started and you were already whimpering and pulling at his hair.

“Baby you taste so good, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. How many do you think you can take?” You could barely hear him through the sound of him lapping at your dripping pussy.

He was talking about his fingers, thick and waiting to push inside of you. They were bigger than yours, bigger than anyone’s you had been with, and fuck you wanted them inside of you.

“Two. Two. Fuck, Jiraiya, please.” You begged him, needing more and more from him despite how good you already felt.

He pushed his first two fingers inside of you, tongue still slurping around your clit. Feeling him spread you open, you felt the white hot build up of orgasm approaching. Your voice was giving you away, panting moans, barely intelligible curses mixed with his name. You tugged at his hair, paying no kind to if it hurt him or not. He certainly wasn’t stopping, nor was he complaining. He was too drunk off of your taste. He hooked his fingers inside of you, deliciously hitting your g spot.

You nearly went blind with pleasure. You were cumming before you even realized how close it was. Not only cumming, but squirting. Gushing around his fingers and into his waiting mouth. He drank from you, everything you had. Leaving you a well pleasured, panting mess above him. The heels of your feet had dug into his shoulders so hard he may bruise. But tomorrow if he woke up with any mark of you left on him, he would be a happy man. Finally detaching his mouth from your puffy, spent pussy, Jiraiya sat back on his heels, watching you carefully, licking his fingers clean.

“Ever done that before?” He grinned cockily, your squirt still dripping down his chin onto his neck.

You watched him take great pride in cleaning his fingers of your cum, “once or twice.” You told him.

“Think I can make you do it again?” He leaned over you, his hands finding your waist again, pulling you forward, against the front of his barely done pants.

You shuddered at the thought. You had read his books, you were familiar with his proclivity toward having the heroines orgasm again and again, until they were begging for mercy. You had always assumed it was fiction, and that couldn’t, shouldn’t reflect on the desires and skills of the author. But the way he watched you as you came undone for him, the way he looked down at you now, you knew it was autobiographical.

He wiped a sweaty strand of hair from your forehead, tucking it behind your ear before leaning down to kiss you again. This kiss was softer than before, he cupped your face sweetly, not tugging and pulling you into him, but holding you firm and steady against his lips. You kissed him back, finally feeling grounded in your body again. He tasted like you, you were sure you tasted like him too. The experience of letting someone’s taste overpower your own was at times more sensual and pleasurable than the act of sex itself.

Your hands moved over his back, feeling the strong muscle, the divots and grooves of his body. Your eager hands moved to remove his pants, and he joined the effort, stripping himself completely before you. He joined you on the couch, kneeling between your legs, still kissing you. You felt his hardened length hot against you, sliding up and down your slit, he reveled in the fruits of his previous labor.

“Please Jiraiya, please.” You whimpered against his kisses, reaching down to stroke him.

He was diamond hard in your hand, long, and thick. Of course he was, of course this literary Casanova had the personal equipment to back it up. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing through his erection. You ran your thumb beneath his foreskin to pull the precum from him and coat your hand to lubricate his length. Jiraiya shuddered and lifted you back onto the couch again, joining you and slotting himself between your legs. Your lips were hot against his, spit and moans exchanged in between sloppy kisses. His thick, white hair shielded you from the light in the room, blocking out everything else but him. He reached down to join your hand on his length, his eyes meeting yours to confirm consent. You nodded again, rocking your hips against the head of his cock. You moved your hands to his shoulders. Jiraiya’s thumbs spread your folds apart for him to release a string of spit onto you. Spreading the lubrication of his spit and your previous release along his length and your slitc he started to inch himself into you.

You couldn’t help the arch that your back curved into. Nor could you stop the mewl that escaped you. Jiraiya groans above you, pushing deeper. Your vision went white as he packed his inches into you. You clawed at his muscles, whimpering as he filled you.

“I know, baby. Almost there.”, he cooed, smoothing your hair.

You squirmed at his depth, how he stretched you out, how he mashed against the wall of your cervix.

“Relax, baby. Let me in, it’s okay.” He kissed your cheeks where you had scrunched up your face.

You breathed deeply, trying desperately to relax your tensed muscles. Just as you would release slightly, he would push further and you would clench around him again. Finally after much stopping and starting, he bottomed out inside of you. His hips meeting the backs of your legs, your calves over his shoulders, and your fingers gripping his shoulders.

“Jiraiya…fuck…you’re so deep.” You trembled against him.

Jiraiya panted above you, running his hand up your leg soothingly. You were holding him so tight, he was struggling to keep from fucking into you further.

“Let me know when I can move, sweetness.” He pressed a sweet kiss to the ball of your ankle, petting your leg again.

After finally accommodating his size, you nodded. He pulled back carefully to the head of his cock before sliding into you again. He began an even thrusting pace, he rocked his hips against your sweet spot inside of you. You couldn’t help the broken, nasty sounds that fell from your lips. He was setting your body ablaze with pleasure. His head fell back as he maintained his rhythm, letting out a lazy, delicious moan. You felt electric, like all the energy in your body had illuminated and was glowing. His hands traveled from your thighs to your hips to your breasts and back again. You felt as though he was unstitching your every piece, taking you apart at the atomic level. And it was marvelous, his touch was practiced and methodical, he knew just how to touch and to please you. You couldn’t control the begging pleas that spilled from you.

“Raiya, please, yes, fuck, oh” in repetition again and again.

He was similarly babbling, “yes baby, so tight, so good, good girl.”

Your sweat transferred to his skin, and vice versa, when he finally leaned over you, closing you in against the couch, you couldn’t help but keen to kiss him again. His big, strong hand pulled your hip up to meet his thrusts, and you helped him, fucking yourself up into him. Your bodies worked in perfect sync, meeting his thrusts, him moving his fingers in between your bodies to circle your swollen clit. Your voice raised in pitch, eyes rolling back as he played you like a fiddle. You had no idea earlier in the night how incredible he would be.

You felt yourself inching so close to climaxing, and you made it clear.

“Please Jiraiya, please!” You begged

“You wanna cum, pretty girl?” He smiled, pushing deeper into you, making you arch further.

“Yes! Fuck yes please. Let me cum!”

“Cum all over this cock. Make a mess for me, baby.” He choked out, circling your clit and sucking into your neck.

He pushed harder into you, the combination of his cock and fingers finally bringing you to your desperate, whimpering, squirting climax. You coated his cock and abdomen in your cum, he shuddered against you trying to keep his pace as he reached his own orgasm.

“Fuck!” Jiraiya cried out slamming himself against your g spot, finally letting his release take him.

You could feel his cock pulse, shooting his long streams of cum inside of you, painting your walls white. Jiraiya collapsed his full weight onto you, which was not insignificant, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You stroked his fluffy, white hair as he caught his breath atop you. He pressed lazy, hot kisses to your neck, collarbone and chest as he caught his breath. Minutes passed with you two locked into this embrace. Finally the weight of his body was too much, and you tapped on his shoulder, urging him to sit up. He did, pulling you up with him, having you straddle his lap so he could stay sheathed inside of you. He stroked your back, still kissing your neck occasionally. You slumped against his broad chest, feeling spent, he let his head rest against the back of your couch. When he had finally caught his breath, he tipped his head back down, holding your face in his hands, and kissed you deeply. His tongue smoothed against yours, tasting your exhaustion. He moved your hair out of your face, and looked into your eyes.

You finally found your words, “I better not read about this.”

“If you think I’m not using this as research, I hate to disappoint you…” Jiraiya laughed heartily, holding you closer.

You kissed him again, laughing against his lips. You luxuriated in his touch, his warmth, and his kiss.

Sure enough, about nine months later when his most recent book was released you rushed to the local bookstore. You found there was a dedication at the beginning reading simply.

For Cherry, Page 73.

You quickly flipped to the listed page and found the beginning of a deliciously flowery sex scene, one where the protagonist picks up a waitress and spoils her the exact way Jiraiya had done to you.

You couldn’t hide the blushing smile. That bastard.

Okay y’all thanks so much for reading! I hope y’all enjoyed! I’m nasty feral for this big bad man.

[shattersstar]

Please use this as a free pass to write "admiring them from afar" with anyone you want :^)

the hellcat spangled shalalala

pairing: college!au jason todd x reader

prompt: blossoming romance - admiring them from afar

warning: harassment mention (in joking context)

a/n: more college basketball au bc i say so! seriously tho thank u for the request it worked out as a great free pass ☺️ this can be read as a stand-alone or taking place after drawstring. comments r appreciated and i hope y’all enjoy ! and expect another part soonish <3

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shot at the night series.

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when your judgment’s on the run, and you’re acting like a stranger cause you thought it looked fun.

The morning sun casted a milky glow, pouring in through the windows and lighting up the store as clouds moved on. Summer began to roll through, exams a thing of the past as Gotham hummed with warmth. You were going to the beach sometime next week, even if it was over a two hour drive away, you were beyond excited. It had been easy to forget all about school, despite the fact the summer term was coming up and you were taking a course. On top of working at a cafe during the week, the gas station on weekend mornings, and still unpacking your new place, you were surprisingly busy.

It was why you hadn’t really seen Jason. Or at least what you had told yourself. You two were in a confusing place, you both knew you liked each other, had worked through some things, but you wanted time. To figure out how genuine your feelings were or if they were just because Jason admitted to liking you. It was nice to be desired, to be sought after, but you didn’t want to string Jason along.

Even if Jason took forever to tell you how he felt and handled it like an ass, he didn’t deserve that.

No one did.

The thought made you sigh as you looked over the columns of scratch and lotto tickets. You had never bought one when you turned of age and always wished you did. It seemed fun, if a bit pointless. You were engrossed with the paper coated in gossamer film that glimmered in the sunlight when the bell above the door rang. You peered through your lashes at whoever came in, heart skipping a beat as the object of your affection breezed through like an early morning fantasy. Jason sent you a quick smile before ducking towards the fridges in the back and scanning through the drinks.

You watched his tall figure from where you perched behind the counter. Elbows resting on the plastic case holding the tickets that no longer occupied your attention. His broad shoulders rose and fell with a sigh, black waves brushing the back of his neck. He was in track pants that hung low on his hips, shirt partially tucked in and giving you a chance to take in how his waist curved and held muscle and fat you could only imagine the delicious sight of.

“You guys don’t have anymore Propel?” Jason called, looking over his shoulder.

You nearly fell over being caught staring, opting to scrunch your nose at the question. “Unfortunately not sir. They don’t sell well because, personally, those drinks are grossly sweet.” You said in your best customer service voice, a grin pulling at Jason’s mouth as he turned back to the fridge.

“Uh huh. Thank you for your input.”

“I live to serve.” You chimed, loud enough for him to hear over the hum of the fridges and the quiet playlist you had put on. Jason snorted from the distance, prompting you to steal another look at him before you busied yourself with refilling the lighter display, which you had abandoned in favour of zoning out earlier.

You had always told Jason you were tired and bored on shift, opening at 5am most weekends. It had become a habit during the school year for him to stop by, usually on a run, but today with a bag slung across his body, you were sure he was heading to the gym on campus. Off season practice you supposed.

You also realized it likely meant when Jason moved off campus, it was still nearby if he was able to stop by before heading to campus. That or he went out of his way to see you, which made your heart skip another beat. You looked back over to Jason at the sound of the fridge door closing, trying to keep your eyes low as you followed his footsteps. He walked up the furthest aisle than down the one closest to the register, lingering while you shifted behind the counter.

“Anything I can help you find?” You called, sweetly.

Jason shook his head no, looking over at you that crooked smile. “Nah, I don’t think you guys carry what I’m looking for.” He opened the energy drink he picked, taking a sip while you smiled in return.

“Yeah unfortunately we don’t carry steroids.” You shrugged. Jason nearly spat out his drink as he laughed, and you were unable to contain your giggles from behind your hand. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, picking up a bag of chips before turning towards the cash. Jason placed both his items on the counter and tossed a granola bar there after pursuing the treats that sat below the register for a minute.

“That’s all.” He said, while you pointed at the drink.

“In future, we ask customers wait till purchase before opening food or drink.” You said, the playful air in your voice still there.

“Oh give my apologies to the owner.” Jason remarked, while you scanned his items.

“Will do…its been a while since you came in. And you didn’t get a patty today.” You muttered, looking at the screen. You had become used to your early morning meetings, even if exams and everything that happened between you two had kept Jason away since the term ended. It didn’t make it hurt less, but it wasn’t because of him. You knew you were the one putting up distance when he finally opened up to you.

“You remember all your regulars that well?” Jason asked tentatively.

“Only the cute ones,” You said, tapping the screen before adding, “Like that redhead you used to come in with whose dropped dead gorgeous. You ever give out his name or number?” You teased, Jason was well aware you knew Roy and his number.

“What does he normally get again?” Jason countered, and you pulled your lip between your teeth as you met his gaze. You stayed silent before raising your hands in defeat, you knew when you lost your battles.

The computer beeped at you for taking too long, and you chuckled awkwardly before pressing a few buttons. You could feel his eyes taking in your side profile as he often did. You wondered how you didn’t know Jason’s true feelings before when you caught him admiring you so often. And worse, how could you think your feelings were anything, but genuine when every time Jason did something like that, your heart raced.

He was so beautiful and could have anyone, a sentiment you felt tenfold when you learned he played for the university’s basketball team, but Jason chose you. He looked at you and made you feel like no one else did and you had been foolish to deny that for so long.

“It’s 9.55.” You said, as he handed you cash.

“You can keep the change.” Jason said, shoving his snacks into his bag.

“I definitely don’t get paid enough so thanks.”

Jason hummed, fiddling with the lid on his drink, and despite the platform the counter sat on, he was still taller than you. You were almost eye level like this, but Jason still had to glance down as he spoke his next words. “You called me cute earlier.”

“Oh I did?” You played dumb and Jason’s jaw shifted, but you knew he wasn’t angry. The ease that normally flowered between you two took over your conversation as he nodded.

“Pretty sure.”

“Well if you wanna file a harassment claim, it’ll be with the owner you owe an apology too.”

“Maybe that makes us even.” Jason said, quiet.

“Maybe…or you could pick me up after my shift if you really wanna square things. I finish earlier today.” You said, gaze flickering between the lotto tickets and Jason’s face. A boyish grin took over his expression as genuine excitement seemed to fill him.

“Fuck yeah—I mean yeah, that’d be great. What time?” He reeled himself in while you toyed with his receipt.

“Noon instead of three.” Jason nodded, that wild glint in his eyes spelt trouble in the best way. He adjusted the strap on his shoulder and while distracted, you placed your palms flat on the counter and pushed yourself to his height. You pressed a quick kiss on Jason’s cheek before settling onto the stool behind you. Jason nearly dropped his bottle as he processed what you just did.

“See you later Jason, I’ll save you a patty if all the construction guys don’t get to them first.” You promised, as he headed towards the door, running his fingers through his hair and looking back at you with indiscernibility. It was shock and awe you supposed.

“See ya baby!” Jason called as he left, dazed tone and pet name threatened to set you on fire as a group of kids barrelled in and darted straight to the freezer. You paid no mind to their yells and counted the hours till Jason picked you up for your first date.

shalalala.

~

title/lyrics from the hellcat spangled shalalala by arctic monkeys

more reading: college/uni hcs + jason todd

[hunxi-after-hours]

hello everyone I'm having too good of a time with 《禁止存档》 Save Files Forbidden by 年终 so I'm planning to bring everyone else down with me into the death swamp :)))

tag will be "(corrosive) bog days of summer" because it's been 90 degrees for about a week straight now and even I, a 铁打的Californian, am beginning to melt a little

general premise under the cut, but let me just take a moment to say that neither the title nor the summary on jjwxc prepared me for the ultimate genre of this book (workplace comedy between two people who are so aggressively responsible that they've tricked themselves into thinking they're just friends)

ok ok so in chapter 1: your main character is one of the best players in this post-apocalyptic immersive video game, but he’s decided that after ten years, it’s time for him to retire after this one last mission

the video game — corrosion — is famous for 1) not being a PVP video game, but more collaborative (teams work together to help purify a corrupted apocalyptic wasteland), and 2) not allowing save files. If you die in this video game, you’re out of the running for the rest of your life. so the fact that our main character has been in this for ten years is genuinely very impressive

anyway! he’s like. well I’m outta here after this mission, I’m gonna go find my internet friend who I’ve been in love with this entire time and confess to them. I’m prettttttyyy sure that my internet friend is a quiet, logical girl who moonlights as our team strategist via chat, but if they're a guy I’m not opposed to trying it out!

ofc complications in last mission results in him doing a ~ great heroic sacrifice ~ and so he ends up flinging himself into a corrosive death bog, whereupon he's like. ah well, we had a good run! time to go back to the real world and confess to the love of my life

and as he sinks into the corrosive death bog he’s like. hey. hey wait a minute. why isn’t the death sequence loading

anyway he wakes up in chapter 2 like “godDAMMIT I’m still stuck in this stupid game. I’m gonna sue the hell out of this video game company” and goes off to find some NPCs who’ll help him contact customer service

he finds some NPCs. he walks up to them like "hiiiiiiii so I don’t know what bug in the system is preventing me from logging out but I’d really appreciate it if y’all—" and then they open fire on him

TURNS OUT!!! he is now video game monster to everyone. more specifically, he is now a walking death bog (jazz hands)

MEANWHILE FROM THE INTERNET FRIEND’S PERSPECTIVE

first of all, he is a man. this is a danmei novel after all

second of all, he is the? (a?) high general of post-apocalyptic human civilization. of course he is, but more importantly this also explains why he’s good at strategy

third of all, he’s talking to his ex-girlfriend (who is a lesbian; they were dating to get both their families off their backs, and now that their families want them to get married they’ve broken up). and high general man is like “hi so something definitely went wrong with the love of my life. I’m gonna go look for him. in the meantime I need you to do some investigation”

and she’s like “I canNOT believe you made me ditch my date for this. fine” and as she walks out the door he stops her and is like “remember. whatever you do. make sure that when you interact with the players, that they don’t realize that their world is the simulation, and the world they think is a video game is actually reality” and she rolls her eyes at him like “yeah yeah don’t die” and walks out

SIKE

THIS IS A POST-APOCALYPTIC SCIENCE FICTION NOVEL

and it keeps going from there :)))))))

[writingbyshiloh]

Night Shift

AN: I want superstrength so I’m being indulgent. I actually have a part 2 in mind but it took AGES so I figured I’d drop pt 1 

CW: NO BETA (I’ll check it over later), robbery, reader has unspecific powers, but some super strength etc. Rude customer hitting on reader if I use the term FIFO it means first in first out etc very big in food service (IDK which one of y’all sufferers in food service with me but there we go), suggestive thoughts from Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Tag List: @tokoyamisstuff, @imonlyherebecauseofthisbandilike, @oiiilyyyy

Was being an assistant manager of a Burger Mart your life dream? Absolutely not. It was something to pay the bills while you put your energy into what you cared about. 

Did you enjoy the evening shift? Absolutely fucking not. It’s hell on earth. The store somehow makes enough to justify staying open until 11 pm but only with a skeleton crew. You, another cashier and a fry cook, no doubt stoned out of her mind.

You pull out another small wear from the soapy water, not bothering to see what it is as you rise off the soap before plunking it onto a tray. It's while you’re switching the loads in the sanitizer over someone crackles on the headset.

“Can you come to the front? Ger-Bear is here.” 

You grab your tray aggressively, scoops and spoons rattling around. “Call me Ger-Bear” (On his Burger Mart rewards account you can see his name is Gerry), is your least favourite person in the world. He has two moods and you’re not sure which you hate more. His “this is too many onions, learn how to do your job.” and “Thanks darling, your hands are so soft.” you wonder which one you’ll get today, you hate both equally. 

You plunk your tray on the counter, hopefully, your coworkers will pick up that slack. Turning to the counter, you see Ger-Bear, holding out his membership card. One of his “learn your job.” moods. 

“The usual?” you ask, putting on your best customer service voice while wanting to bash your head into the wall. He doesn’t reply just shaking his card in your face. You scan it and direct him to the counter. You unfortunately have his order memorized so you can just put it in instantly. Even if you make it right you’re sure he’ll send it back. 

“Hi. What can I get for ya?” your voice sounded fake and tired to your ears, as you greet the next customer, eyes focused on the screen. It's his voice that makes you snap your head up. His height makes you tilt your head back even further. And of course, he's fucking blue. Why would you ever have just a normal shift? 

“Hi. Can I get a box of burgers? On the house.” The smooth baritone of his voice almost causes you to miss the thinly veiled threat. As if you’re going to fight this guy over a fucking box of burger patties. You sigh while weighing your options. 

He watches you internally debate what to do, while the crew behind you isn’t paying attention. Your hands are still above the desk so he knows you can’t hit a panic button. He hopes you would hurry up though, it’s not a great look to be freshly out of jail and immediately caught again in Burger Mart. 

“Hey! This is not what I ordered.” Ger Bear shouts from the end of the bar. You’re used to his usual song and dance. Gerry is so engrossed in the onions on his burger that he’s not paying attention as he walks back to the counter to berate you for messing up something you should have known. 

He never makes it back to the counter. Instead, he bumps into a solid blue mass of flesh. You can’t help but enjoy how terrified Gerry looks as he takes a step back, argument dying on his lips. 

“Apologize. Now.” The singular twin says arms crossed to make his muscles look even better. 

You have to press your lips together to avoid grinning at Gerry as he stumbles through an apology to you and your staff, saying his burger is perfect and that he's going to give everyone 10s on the BM survey. 

“You can have whatever you want.” you tell Mauler as you both watch Gerry slink back to his seat. “Follow me.”

He raises an eyebrow but does as you ask. You give yourself a second to admire his shoulders and arms before leading him into the back room.

“Don’t you have a twin?” you ask, back resting against the deep freeze door to keep it open for him. You’re grateful for the human-sized BM jacket the store has, meaning you don’t have to share the warmth. Plus a jacket would cover up his muscles, while you watch them flex and shift looking for what they want. “Wait, are you getting this shit to use for the clone-twin thing? Is it a food source?” 

The one-mauler twin turns around from where he hunched over, sorting through the deep freeze for a box of something. Remember that Burger Mart does not pay for “hostage time”:  you decide to help him. Plus you can probably use this robbery to get your shithead manager fired. 

“Look at you, not just a pretty face.” He says, passing through the door with a box to put by the others he selected. You feel your face heat up but hopefully the cold air from the freezer will counteract it. 

“Do you have more of the deluxe patties?” he asks. He puts one arm on the outer door frame and leans against it to look down at you. If you die now, what a way to go you think. 

You duck under the doorway and his arm to bring him to the other deep freezer mostly used for storage. He's much better company than you thought he would be, but Burger Mart doesn’t pay after when your schedule says your shift ended.

You drag a breakroom chair to prop the door open. Being in the second deep freeze is tidier. Anyone working can haul things from the first deep fridge, but the second one is only for stock and few are allowed to access it, mostly you and your manager,

Cardboard boxes are arranged neatly on shelves, so you know exactly what he's looking for and where it is. Sliding your hand under the metal shelf above you lift it, allowing space for someone to grab the fresh fifoed box of patties.

It’s too heavy for a normal human to lift, the shelves full of products but you can manage it. 

“The fresh ones are at the back…” you prompt him out of his staring. “If you want to… y’know, fucking grab them.” 

You pish the shelves slightly higher to make room for his arm so he can grab what he needs. While you have some superhuman strength they’re still fucking heavy. You catch him staring as he stacks the boxes with the others.  

“You said it yourself, I’m not just a pretty face.” 

“That was scary.” Fry Cook Anna says from the passenger seat of your car. You and your staff stayed later to fill out incident reports to hopefully get time off for trauma. “But you could take him, right?” 

With your mind focused on the shit directions Anna gave you, you’re only half listening.

“With some prep, I think so. Maybe both if I have a lot of time.” you mumble. 

“What? Like warming up?” It’s Anna's questions that make you realize you mistook her words, she meant a physical fight. 

“Yeah, like that.” You lie, hoping she's too high to remember any of it.

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

Steddie Flower Shop / Tattoo Parlor AU

I am so floored by the response! It is absolutely so fun that y’all want to read my silly stories! This is a relatively short update but I am working on the rest! Hoping to post the full story by Valentine’s and I might also post an AO3 link at some point if anyone would like that I Part One I Part Two I Also on AO3!

***

Chrissy and Eddie had been taking bets about what type of business was opening up across the way. Eddie’s guesses had run the gamut from hipster coffee shop to hipster hairdresser to hipster high-end taxidermy while Chrissy had more or less stuck with her original guess of a speakeasy style bar. Eddie was starting to close up shop for the day when some guy in an honest-to-god sweater vest and jeans ran over.

“It’s too late to place any orders today. Sorry if you need to apologize to your wife and 2.5 kids and forgot until the last minute.” Eddie had to admit the guy was pretty infuriatingly handsome. If you were in to normie core, that is.

“What? I’m not- okay, uhm. I’m actually here because I just rented the place across the way and I wanted to ask about setting up a recurring weekly arrangement?” Steve asked.

“What?” Eddie yelled over Judas Priest.

“It’s a wonder you can ever hear anything over all this noise.” Steve gestured towards the speaker.

Chrissy had overheard the exchange from the backroom and cut Eddie off before he could start ranting about real music, “Yes, we are interested in setting up a recurring weekly bouquet arrangement for our new neighbors, Eddie.” 

Chrissy turned back around to lower the speaker's volume and pulled Eddie and Steve into the shop and onto stools by the workbench Eddie uses for arranging. Eddie glared at her but they’d just lost one of their regular accounts to some online service that was apparently way cheaper than what De Lucas’ could offer.

“Sure. What were you thinking, dude?” Eddie asked Steve.

“Just something nice for our front desk. Not too big and maybe nothing that people are commonly allergic to? But I’ve seen the arrangements you load up for delivery and I trust your eye. I’m not a live flower expert.”

“Of course, big boy.” Eddie noticed Steve flush a little bit at the pet name. Eddie reached behind Steve to grab one of the flyers Chrissy had made for company floral services. He purposely invaded Steve’s space a little more than necessary just to see if he could get the guy to flush a little deeper.

“Uhm, thanks, man. I’ll get out of your hair since it’s late. Sorry.”

“I’ve got time for you now if you want to talk through anything,” Eddie couldn’t resist biting his lip a little bit. Steve was apparently very easy to ruffle and Eddie sure did love antagonizing his hipster neighbor. “Tell me a little bit about your place?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s a tattoo studio? Just me and my friend’s helping run the, like, business part of it.” Steve responded

“You tattoo?”

“Yeah. Really fucking well actually,” Steve pushed back. It seemed like Eddie had hit a nerve.

“Shouldn’t you have like at least one tattoo?” Eddie’s brain to mouth filter had apparently stopped working. He shouldn’t be actively shitting on a potential customer.

“Who says I don’t?” Steve answered with a wink. It was Eddie’s turn to feel a little faint as his imagination took a little too much creative liberty thinking about where Steve’s tattoo might be.

Thankfully, Chrissy took the awkward silence as an opportunity to step in and work with Steve to confirm what level of floral arrangement he was looking for, how often he wanted a new arrangement, and if he wanted pick up or delivery.

“I can stop by and pick them up. Wouldn’t want you to go through the trouble of adding me to your schedule since I’m just across the way. Any chance I could pick one up tomorrow around lunch time? My first client is coming at two.” Steve asked.

“Noon’s great, Steve!” Chrissy reached out to shake Steve’s hand while Eddie was still working on slowing his heart rate back to a reasonable rhythm.

“Amazing, thanks so much guys!” Steve called as he headed out of De Lucas’ and back across the street.

“Woah, Eddie. Truly a masterclass in both flirting and getting new clients. I should have taken notes,” Chrissy said once Steve had made it halfway into the road.

“Hey, fuck you.” 

“He speaks!” Chrissy patted Eddie’s head and added, “You’ll have to get better at interacting with him since you’ll be seeing each other once a week now.”

Eddie dramatically sighed and laid his upper body across the workbench, getting little pieces of flower refuse stuck in his hair.

“I’m so screwed.”

You wish, babe,” Chrissy cackled as she grabbed her bag and headed out for the day.

***

Part 4 now available here!

Taglist: @maya-custodios-dionach @eboyawstenn @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @thehumblefigtree @throwbackthrowaway @micheledawn1975

I think I caught everyone! I seriously am so genuinely amazed by the reception! 

[archetypal-archivist]

Work the Knight Away- 4halo

A thing for 4halo, playing on the themes of romance but not romantic. (Whether or not Badboyhalo’s character is aromantic matters little to me- I enjoy all interpretations but this is themed for those who like to think he is. :3 )

A story in which Forever is a knight errant out to make his fame and fortune. He and his family- Cellbit, Pac, Mike, and Felps- agreed that they would set out to make legends of themselves. Once they were famous, they would return home and tell each other stories about what had happened while they were away and what they had done.

Cellbit was the first to return, solving a series of murders to track down the killer, a desperate man with a more desperate motive that lead him down the path of vile, vicious black magic. Pac and Mike left together and returned as such, having become great inventors and saving a kingdom from a bitter winter through use of steam and brass and bravery. (Marketing is tough, y’all, customer service more so.)

Felps was the latest to return, having tripped his way into a conspiracy to summon forth a dark god by way of being slated as one of the three bodies for the next sacrifice. He escaped with the child in tow, the old man staying behind to blow up the ritual site, and as one of two survivors, he was marked as a hero and a martyr. The child comes with Felps to his home with his friends and they name him Richarlyson, deciding to raise the kid as their own.

Forever... Forever has yet to return. He’s not as technologically-inclined as Pac and Mike, nor as blindly compassionate as Felps, nor as quick-witted as Cellbit. All he has is his sword, his horse, his armor, and his willingness to work. So perhaps it’s for the best that a year into his journey, the work finds him.

It starts with a demon.

Forever is on day 432 of his journey and he rides up into a town that looks run down but well-loved, just on the right side of poor. He asks around if there’s any monsters that need slaying because at this point he’ll do just about anything for a warm bed and a meal and the townspeople insist that there’s only one monster around and that he shouldn’t be bothered. Forever presses the matter and he’s told that the monster is a demon who showed up about a week before he did, and that if he were to travel out upriver to see the demon, he would surely agree that he’s harmless.

Forever, tired but not too tired to be curious, and just jaded enough to suspect that the demon may not be as harmless as he appears, rides off to see him. He finds Badboyhalo just as the townspeople had said, cutting down a tree with a big stack of logs nearby. Forever starts to interrogate BBH but he just smiles sunnily at the knight and pretends that Forever had come up to be his friend. He spins out a yarn about how happy he is to see Forever, how eager he is to have a friend and how friends help friends, right?

Forever ends up spending four hours with Badboyhalo building a bridge across the river. He didn’t plan on this, but it ended up happening and even when the bridge is complete he’s still not sure how he got roped into it. Immediately after he goes to the inn, pays for a room, and goes to bed, exhausted after the labor.

With the bridge built, BBH leaves town in the dead of night and the third morning after, the river floods. Forever is there to watch it happen and he's shocked and intrigued to see a flood of people cross into town in the wake of the disaster. Apparently the town Forever is staying in for the time being was barely hit by the flood but those upstream suffered greatly- Bad's bridge saved lives. A bridge, built three mornings before it became necessary, saved lives.

It's just as suspicious as it is auspicious so Forever leaves town to track down the demon who roped him into helping in the first place. It takes time but Forever is stubborn and patient when he needs to be, so he does find the man again, this time digging a big hole in the garden behind someone's house. Forever tries to interrogate BBH again but the demon remains cagey, instead having Forever dig the pit with him.

Again Forever is too tired to question BBH after the work is done and just like the first time, upon having to deal with the other's word play and shenanigans for hours, his first thought is of sleep. BBH leaves with the rising of the moon and upon its setting, Forever awakens to a heavy rainstorm, heavy enough to prevent all travel. He waits out the weather in the inn, irritated at this turn of events, and it's only on the third day that it clears up- but not before a bolt of lightning strikes the pond made by water filling the hole he and BBH dug.

Forever and the townsfolk understand, then, that the pond was what kept the lightning from striking a nearby house, the body of water a more attractive target, if only just. To Forever, this feels like intentional acts rather than happenstance that saved the people again. BBH is preventing disaster before it occurs and he is either the cause of the disaster in the first place, or he can see the future. Either way, Forever wants to know more.

Really, a demon causing and mitigating problems at every turn, ones dangerous enough to risk life and limb of everyone nearby? Sounds like the perfect person to follow for adventure and Forever really, really wants to go home.

So he follows BBH from town to town and city to city and helps the demon out every chance he gets, trying to learn more about him along the way. At first Forever's motive is entirely adventure and fame driven but over time, he falls in love with the work. It's ugly and hard and most of the time, he only gets minor accolades if anything at all. But he's saving lives.

He gets a roof over his head and homemade bread. He gets babies named after him, left in his lap as the parents greet the refuges or cry over those who narrowly escaped disaster. He gets BBH smiling at him; happy to see him, happy to have his help and his hands, eager to get to work.

Forever falls in love with that, the work. The grind. And along the way, he thinks he may fall in love with Badboyhalo too but only so much as it's a relief to see him, a lone constant just as happy to see him in turn. A welcome indicator that there is work to be done and here, for a few days at least, Forever can stop his wandering and lose himself in helping others.

It comes to a head when Forever, too full up on love to hide it anymore, confesses to BBH that he loves him but that he asks not for reciprocity because he doesn't love the demon as a person but as a symbol. A sign of the work, which is his true love. Bad hesitates and back peddles and tries to argue Forever out of it, but the knight stays firm- he loves BBH. He just doesn't want the demon to love him back: it would be leading them both on, giving them both false hope.

At last, BBH accepts but tells Forever outright that he can't love Forever back, even if he wanted to. As he's bound up in his duty to warn people of danger and to prevent harm where he can, the work has to come first. He can love things, sure, but to love any particular person enough to be in love with them is simply beyond his ability. He asks Forever if he's absolutely sure that it's the work that the knight loves, and not the demon himself.

As if by saying it he would firm up his belief on the matter, Forever confirms this- the work is first in his heart.

And the work goes on.

More towns, more cities, more lives to be saved. A full year passes and now Forever travels with Badboyhalo, not trailing after him as he did before. It's harder on his body as the demon takes fewer breaks and stays in one place less than a human like Forever would, but he rejoices in it because it means more work, more help. Less suffering.

Less time to think.

In his wake, Forever has left legends and folk stories about him and his demonic companion and they are certainly famous in their own way. However, because Forever is enamored with BBH and the work, he never sticks around to hear how the people love him and as such, he has no clue that he's met the requirements to return home.

Cellbit and the others know of course, and they get worried for their friend. He's alive, the stories and their rate of creation proves it, but still Forever doesn't return. They write letters to him but none of them reach the knight, the carrier birds plucked out of the air by Bad any time they come close, their letters confiscated and the birds returned to the air.

Forever loves his life, it's necessary and wonderful- and it's ripping him to shreds. Bad notices and begins to insist on more breaks, more food, more time to sleep but at this point the damage is done and Forever has a taste for self destructive love. The work consumes him. This too eventually leads to confrontation and Forever demands BBH explain how, for a man who could never be in love with him, he shows the knight so much love.

Fired up and angry because harm is being done and it's taking something extreme like a fight to get Forever to stop hurting himself, Bad shouts that he doesn't love Forever - he cares for him.

Forever will never come first to him, Bad has his own life to live, but he's enjoyed having Forever in it. It's lonely being a harbinger of doom as few dare to travel his road, full of hard work and long hours as it is, so Forever's kindness is deeply appreciated. However, while having Forever in his life brings him joy, it's killing the knight and that's unacceptable. He can live without Forever. He can't live with Forever being gone from his life in a final, more permanent sense.

Forever needs to go home, even if BBH really doesn't want to let him go. So, the demon gives the knight the letters he stole, the letters he kept so he could keep Forever with him just a little longer.

Forever is heartbroken and betrayed and angry because when someone is hurting you, the last thing you want to hear is that it's for your own good. However, reading the letters affirms that his family needs him so he does eventually pack up his things and head back the way he came, leaving Badboyhalo behind.

The way home is long and arduous and without the work, Forever finally realizes just how close he's come to killing himself. Suddenly, riding on horseback for a day is insufferable without at least a blanket to pad his seat, and skipping meals makes him feel so ill he can hardly move. His body is fed up with the mistreatment so it's demanding all the things it needs as loudly as it can now that Forever is out of self-inflicted survival mode.

How fortunate, then, that there are plenty of people to greet him and take care of him on his journey home. Every place that Forever had stopped to help is eager to see him and are happy to feed him, house him, and entertain him for as long as he needs. Finally, Forever realizes just how beloved he is- it's only reaffirmed by how people cluck over his scars and sob over how much he's suffered to save lives. To them, their love for him is enough to make them distressed over the fact that he's in pain. By hurting himself, he's hurting them.

It makes Forever think on the last month or two of his journey with Badboyhalo and what it must have been like to have an identity that revolved around preventing suffering yet have a companion who experienced nothing but, simply because they chose to live in your presence and follow your ways.

It hurts to think about, but then, there's certainly plenty of time to think now that he's traveling home. Time enough to learn, to grow- to fall in love in new ways. To fall in love with the world he rushed to save without stopping to see just what he was saving.

And perhaps, Forever falls a little bit in love with the demon who decided to save him from himself, at what he thought to be the cost of their friendship for separating Forever from his "true love."

Eventually, Forever makes it home and Cellbit, Pac, Mike, Felps, and little Richarlyson rush out to meet him. They sweep him up into a big hug and laugh at how he's changed his sword for a shovel, his big war horse for a draft horse perfect for pulling wagons. Forever laughs too and he gathers his family up and shares his story with them, which really does sound fantastic when it's all laid out at once.

The family hears this story often in the following weeks, enough that Richarlyson gets a little sick of it, but they can tell it means a lot to Forever so they put up with it. They're also very grateful to Badboyhalo, even if they aren't 100% sure he exists- really, a future predicting demon with a penchant for community service? Really? (Cellbit still votes that this is better than the time Forever fell in love with their migratory avian neighbor. The pining had been unreal.)

Months pass. Badboyhalo, who had been keeping a portion of his attention on Forever ever since the man had left, gets a bad feeling. Something is about to happen and he needs to save his friend before it's too late, so he picks up his bag, borrows a faster horse, and rushes for Forever's home as quick as he can.

On Forever's part, life continues as normal until one day, a winter storm comes through and their house collapses in on Forever and his family, pinning them all underneath the dining room table. Cellbit can't think of a way out, Pac and Mike don't have the tools to build a way out, and Felps' willingness to be eaten to keep his family alive is profoundly unhelpful.

The only ones who are calm are Forever and Richarlyson- the latter because he's certain that his dads can do anything, and the former because he knows that while he can't do anything, Bad is coming for him. Badboyhalo's whole purpose in life is to help. Bad is his friend. He just needs to wait.

And sure enough, BBH comes right in the nick of time, squeezing his way into the house through the ruins of the chimney and leading the family out through narrow passages in the debris. Everyone makes it out alive and they watch as the house finally caves in, the last of the supports giving way under the weight of the snow.

Cellbit and the rest are in awe of the demon that saved them but Forever's only reaction is to pull Bad into a tight hug, reassuring the man that there are no hard feelings between them. BBH apologizes for not getting there sooner but Forever is having none of it, as to him there's nothing to forgive- he had faith that Bad would turn up and low and behold, he did.

Forever's family splits off a little ways, Pac and Mike already examining the wreckage to see how they may rebuild, but Forever stays by Bad's side for a bit. He's thought too much on the topic to stop the words from pouring out- Bad was right, all that time ago. Forever loves the work, but he loves Bad too, as a person this time.

Badboyhalo saved him from his lonely wandering by giving him the work, then saved him from himself by forcing him away, at cost to Bad himself. Forever isn't sure if it's hero worship or chivalrous loyalty or something else entirely, but Forever loves Bad and he wants to travel with the man again.

Bad takes a step back, heart aching and feeling slightly betrayed, and he repeats that he can't love Forever back, not the way Forever loves him. The work comes first, and Bad's life has to be entirely his own- in a world filled with danger at every turn plus his ability to sense it, Bad's greatest comforts are total control over his life and as much prevention of pain as possible. Divvying up his time between the work and a relationship would be stressful enough to render him non-functional, even if he knows it would make Forever happy.

Forever just shakes his head, explaining that he knows this full well and what he said before holds true- he doesn't want Bad to return his feelings. He is well aware that the work comes first, so he simply wants to travel with Bad and help him again. If doing the work lets him spend time with the objects of his affection- as his love for BBH is new but his love of the work never went away- then he'll commit to the task happily.

At this, it's BBH's turn to protest, as this method had nearly killed Forever last time. He'd rather have Forever alive, well, and far from him than close and in peril. Forever just smiles, a little bittersweet, and tells Bad that for all that the demon can't be in love with him, it's very clear that love is there. Bad just says that that's stating the obvious- why else would he be so eager to leave one of his best friends behind?

It seems like there's no resolution to be found, but Richarlyson stumbles up to them both and demands a story. He's tired from all the stress and a story before bed is a must! And not that boring one about Forever's adventures either! Forever laughs as an idea comes to him, which he explains to BBH and his family. Tentatively they agree, then more enthusiastically when they realize it solves all their problems.

The coming of Spring marks Forever and Badboyhalo leaving together for more adventures, and Fall marks their return to the rest of Forever's family, loaded down with gifts from the people they helped and stories from their time abroad. It's a bit of a pomegranate trick to make it work, especially since it's hard to carry a calendar on the road, but it all works out and everyone is happy- Richarlyson most of all.

[dr-lizortecho]

anyways, y’all wish me luck cause I gotta do something that’s literally so scary, like ask my boss if we can talk and then discuss one of my co-workers who is a great worker and has been there much longer than me, and like I’ve never had to do this kinda thing before- because who cares about people cutting corners at work? except in this case I am not in customer service, these are literal people, little kids, and it’s not good, like she’s lying about having changed the five kids who get diaper changes and I’m changing them in addition to potty training, which just doesn’t work- and when she does potty training (which I feel bad about cause it’s fifteen kids) she’s letting kids leave the bathroom without pull-ups and they’re peeing all over themselves

and ik tmi- but really I’m awake and so bothered by yhis, and my stomach hurts, but imma talk to them about it- cause it just can’t be like this, even if I could go behind her and make it obvious I’m checking she did the diapers, like it’s not sustainable

[rebornologist]

Hi there, I stumbled upon your blog n absolutely adore your writing✨

I wanted to ask if you could write some headcanons about gokudera with a shy but physically affectionate s/o?

Either way I hope you are having a great day n are taking care of urself ✨

♡ Gokudera w/ a Shy S/O ✧

warnings: established relationship, physical affection as a love language!! lil kisses and cuddles

༚✧⁺˳₊˚‿︵‿︵‿୨୧ · ˳ · ♡ · ˳ · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿˚₊˳⁺✧༚

He’s the definition of “excuse me, they asked for NO PICKLES,” as he is literally shaking the poor customer service worker by their uniform collar with murder in his eyes, but he starts to tone it down when he realizes that they are not completely comfortable with him having outbursts like that since it attracts way too much attention

Y’all already know it took forever for him to catch on and actually wrap his head around being more lowkey. Despite being the brooding loner type, he can be so frickin’ loud and obnoxious without even realizing it! Both you and Tsuna had to sit him down separately and together to explain a plan of action for dialing down his highly emotional responses for literally everyone’s sake

Gokudera is interesting because he’s very obviously shameless about it when he absolutely loves someone, but is a little embarrassed about saying it directly to you with his whole chest because he cares very deeply about your validation (though he shouldn’t!! He’s worth everything in the world but he definitely doesn’t fully know it) and is like.. But what if I fuck it up?? and that makes him stutter and go completely silent and just turn red and shy away from your gaze because damn he cares so deeply for you!!

That is where his s/o’s love language being physical affection comes in strong; He’s learned over the course of your relationship that he’s easily his s/o’s favourite person to be physically affectionate with, if not one of the few people that they are actually comfortable being close to! He loves always being able to sling an arm around their shoulder or walk with them hand in hand. They do tend to avoid eye contact with strangers and especially if they’re feeling shy with the pda, but don't you worry!

Gokudera will gladly throw down with anything or anyone, anywhere and anytime for you, so he often protectively walks in front of you and puts himself between you and anyone else. On the good side of things, it’s nice to know that you won’t be interacting with strangers, but he can be prone to speaking for you sometimes when meeting other friends, which is a habit you’re slowly coaxing him away from. That often comes in the form of squeezing his hand or arm to get his attention and signal that you’re in the mood to speak for yourself, this time.

Speaking of hand holding, you find the most peace in feeling the calloused pads of his fingers smooth over the back of your hand, and the coolness of his rings that he often lets you fiddle with as a way to calm your nerves. He finds it so cute that he averts his gaze and tries to still the hammering of his heart (it never works, you will look up at him with your doe eyes and your lips will just slightly flatten into a smile, You 1 Gokudera 0 lolol). He often gets his reassurance from you in the form of little squeezes to his bicep or innocently rubbing up and down his thigh if y'all are sitting next to each other.

In your alone time, you are a different beast, and he doesn't stand a chance. While you may get slightly flustered by him picking you up and squeezing you tight when y'all first meet for the day, once you settle down in his room for some study time, he's all yours. You type away at your laptop with your legs up on his lap, and he scribbles away in his notebook while fiddling with the anklet he gifted you for an anniversary. When you aren't feeling particularly chatty but feel like giving him some lovin, you'll turn to face him or quietly plop yourself on his lap.

His eyes go wide, and he leans back to look you in the eyes. "Wh..what's up?" He'd ask, almost hesitantly. You greet him with a sleepy smile, unconsciously batting your eyelashes as you blink. The noise that leaves you is indescribable as you throw your arms around his neck and bury your nose in his hair. His reaction is nothing if not adorable, a small exclamation of surprise as his face flushes red, before he gently holds your face in his hands and presses a soft kiss to your lips. That grants you permission to squeal happily and pepper his face with smooches, humming and running your hands through his hair and over his shoulders, your little darling. His whole ass soul is yours, bro <3

twas a little longer than just headcanons, but you know this is a common occurrence for a guy who is bad with expressing himself and a partner that would rather use touch to show their love hehe xx

[the-lincyclopedia]

Queen's Thief fandom, let's do Fandom Trumps Hate 2024!

Queen's Thief fans! One of my favorite events of the year has started, and I would love for you to join me in participating! I have participated in Fandom Trumps Hate for the past four years and have had a GREAT time, and I’ve come to look forward to bidding week all year long. I really think a lot of y’all would enjoy getting in on this! (A few folks joined me last year, and I'd love for even more to join this year.)

What is Fandom Trumps Hate?

@fandomtrumpshate is a pan-fandom charity auction that is in its eighth year. It raises tens of thousands of dollars per year for a variety of small, progressive nonprofits. Here’s an FAQ.

How does it work?

Here’s the full schedule, but basically, over a couple weeks in February, folks sign up to contribute fanworks (fic, poetry, podfics, vids, or art) or fan labor (beta services, sensitivity reading, translation, etc.). Then, after everyone has signed up, there’s a browsing period where people can check out what’s being offered. At the beginning of March, there’s a five-day period where people can bid on the offerings. Then there’s a week for bidders to make their promised donations and get connected with creators, and after that creators have until the end of December to fulfill the bidders’ requests.

What can you offer in Fandom Trumps Hate?

There are several basic types of offerings in Fandom Trumps Hate:

Fic

Poetry

Fanart

Podfics

Vids

Fan labor, including beta services, sensitivity reading, expertise -picking, and translation

For each of these, you can specify the length/scope of what you're offering, up to three fandoms you're willing to work in, the max rating you want to engage with, the minimum bid for your work, and what you're especially excited about writing/drawing/etc. versus what you're not willing to write/draw/etc.

There’s also an “other” category, which has previously included things like custom mapmaking. If it can be delivered digitally, the sky’s the limit. Additionally, there's a Fan Crafts Bazaar that runs alongside the auction and offers fan crafts in physical form.

Is it legal to have a fanwork auction?

Yes, Fandom Trumps Hate is legal, because the law says that creators can’t get paid for fanworks. Bidders in Fandom Trumps Hate donate to nonprofits that aren’t involved in any way in organizing the auction, and the creators make fanworks/provide fan labor as a gift. On a related note, please do not label Fandom Trumps Hate works (or any other works) as “commissions” on AO3–this is vital for AO3′s legal status.

What does this have to do with the Queen’s Thief?

I know from the Discord server that a lot of y’all have ideas that you’d love for someone else to write or draw. This is the perfect opportunity to sign up to execute someone else’s idea, or to try to find someone who’s willing to try to execute yours! Or if you have some sort of fandom-relevant expertise (looking at you, classicists), this is a great way to generate donations to nonprofits while putting your knowledge to use helping with someone else’s fic.

I have another question …

Cool! I might have an answer. Fellow Queen’s Thief fans, please feel free to DM me about this. If I don’t know and can’t figure it out, I’ll probably contact the mods, but I’ve been around this auction long enough that hopefully I’ll be able to figure some things out.

Anyway, SIGNUPS ARE OPEN! Signups run now through February 19, and I hope you'll get in on the action!

[lilmagiceverywhere]

"A PSALM FOR THE WILD BUILT" by Becky Chambers

4.75/5 ✨️

I had found A Psalm For The Wild-Built recommended to me searching through various solarpunk/hopepunk tags a while ago, and noted it in my mind to come back to it later.

But to be honest, I doubted that I would ever actually get around to reading it. My college classes kicked me straight into a horrible reading slump since I started them at sixteen years old, and it’s been hard for me to get through books ever since. And I have read books outside of those textbooks, but it’s only been an average of one or three a year, not a big number.

Yet I found the book pop up on my phone again in December, and it planted a seed in my head. I wanted to read the book, I really did, but I didn’t want to add to the pile of physical books I’ve bought in the past and wanted to read, so I decided I would go about it differently.

I got my copy through the library.

I know to some people, going to the library isn’t as revolutionary as they might expect. But I hadn’t used a library in years, and the library I have access to is an actual building, not a small converted ranch house with barely enough room for all the bookshelves. And I could reserve the copy online and pick it up, I didn’t have to spend hours searching for a book and somehow end up lost in the accounting books looking for a sci-fi book.

Libraries are great, y’all.

Anyway, let’s actually talk about the book. Spoilers beyond this point, you have been warned.

A Psalm For The Wild-Built is a novel (or perhaps a novella, it is on the shorter side) by author Becky Chambers. The story is quite simple– Dex, a tea monk, feels unsatisfied with their job, and can’t figure out why. One day, while traveling between settlements, Dex comes in contact with the first robot any human has seen in centuries.

The novel is mostly conversational. Unlike other stories I’ve found myself drawn to in the past, the conflict doesn’t rely on saving the city/the world, defeating an evil authoritative figure (be it a king, queen, or weird demon), or a revolution. The conflict is more internal. Dex is suffering from what I would consider Severe Burnout™, and it takes them from a life of comfort to literally climbing up a mountain.

But I find myself drawn to this sort of conflict now. As much as I love the stories of revolutionaries overthrowing authoritative figures, maybe with a bit of magic or sci-fi jumbo thrown in as well, having that be the only story I enjoy for years has made me a bit yearnful for something more mundane. I suppose that’s where the genre of “cozy scifi/fantasy” comes in. It’s not epic quests or large adventures, it’s the story of everyday lives in a more extraordinary world.

Dex’s conflict is dealing with burnout. Something that I’ve been feeling myself for a while, not just creatively. Even though it’s been years, the COVID-19 burnout that I felt during my college years really took a number on me. I was depressed, I hardly left my single dorm room, I didn’t go out and experience a lot of things, and I only made myself do the bare minimum in order to graduate. At the time, I felt like it was necessary for my survival to do that. I graduated almost two years ago, and recently, I’ve been reconsidering that philosophy that pushed me through college. Was it necessary for my survival, or if I had pushed myself more, would my experiences have been marginally better?

Having Dex’s conflict be internal like that spoke to me a lot. Even though the reasons for burnout are different, the symptoms are the same. The solution, in a sense, is similar as well. I’m not going to free-climb up a mountain any time soon, but I think getting out in nature has helped me recover from the COVID-19 burnout.

I got a job at a place that’s going to remain redacted for my privacy’s sake, but it’s a place that gets me close to two different things– people and nature. The people part is mostly just customer service, but I work at a nature-place, which has biologists and horticulturalists and researchers who are actually looking into ways we can help the planet within the ongoing climate change crisis. Half of my coworkers are vegetarian or vegan, and being in a place like this has inspired me to do more about my physical and mental health.

Dex’s solution to their burnout was also to retreat to nature, though theirs is much more literal. They detour from the path they’ve set themself on recklessly, going towards the uncontrolled wilderness of their land of Panga (which I’m assuming is a reverse Pangea situation) instead of the next town they were supposed to visit. In the wilderness, there is supposedly a monastery for those seeking respite from the city life, and even though it’s been years since a human last stepped foot there, Dex makes it their mission to visit it, thinking it might be the cure to their weird affliction (which, to be fair, they aren’t recognizing as burnout).

While on the road there, Dex encounters Splendid Speckled Mosscap, a robot. Centuries before Dex’s time, the robots who worked for the humans gained a sudden consciousness. It is not a violent robot revolution, in fact, it’s a more philosophical one. The robots promise to see the humans again, but they need some time to themselves. To discover things, to discover what life truly is all about.

Mosscap is a robot who volunteered to play the role of ambassador, to return to the humans to see what the humans need help with. And it just so happens that Dex is the first human it comes across.

I’m not going to dive too in depth more about the plot and conflict of the book, because I really want to encourage anyone reading this to experience it for themselves. I love the dynamic that forms between Dex and Mosscap (my beloved). They have such interesting conversations, from the nature of humanity, to the differences between robots and humans, to even the more mundane things, like cooking, and taking a less-traveled path.

The book is pretty character and dialogue heavy, but it works out perfectly for the type of conflict its supposed to reflect. If you like more action and description in your books, though, this might not be the one for you, and that’s okay! But if you’re intrigued at all by this book, I suggest you check out your library to see if they have a physical or digital copy you can borrow. It’s a delight of a book, and there’s even a sequel I now get to patiently wait for to return to the library so then I can check it out!

[akookminsupporter]

... Funny NOT FUNNY how another of the 4 people I care about on this app has had to make a statement today.

…

First off, all of y’all who think that Rosie is mean, I suggest you listen to one of my fav songs Thanks Dad For Getting Me on Good Music from When I Was in Diapers: Honesty by Billy Joel → LYRICS

Second, I can’t stress this enough:

IF YOU CAN’T TAKE IT, DON’T DISH IT.

Rosie’s blog isn’t a store, she ain’t selling shit. Meaning, there is no customer service, hence, you are not a customer, SO, you are not God. Thus, if you don’t like what you see you can fuck right off. Imagine spending time in a place that I don’t like; can’t be me, no siree. 

Cause some wise someone once said that time is money, but mine, and particularly Rosie’s, is worth more than that and the he chopped they heads off!.

Rosie is not here to make friends with YOU. There are plenty of people who can read and have pretty decent comprehension skills, so YOU coming back with your “I’m offended…” ASKS does nothing but make you look hella stoopid within the context of it all.

So do Everyone a favour: Make 2023 a Great Year Again, for you and Rosie and the entire Human Race there are people- … Future Anons, you got the message, right?

… Don’t Try me.

For real.

AYTE.

Stay away from my loved ones 💋,

Much love,

Marengo.

TELL THEM, MARE!

[duckprintspress]

“Aim For The Heart”: Campaign Updates and Spotlights on Artist Jennifer Smith and Author R. L. Houck

The campaign to fund Aim For The Heart: Queer Fanworks Inspired by Alexandre Dumas’s “The Three Musketeers” is now halfway done and going strong! For those not super familiar with how campaigns go, usually the bulk of funding comes in during the first 48 hours and the last 48 hours of the campaign. I personally usually look to see us at 50% funded by the end of the first 48 hours; if we hit that metric then I can say with a fair degree of confidence that we’ll reach our goal. This campaign did hit that, handily, and now with 15 days left, we’re only $750 shy of our goal! While I’m not hosting any parades yet, as I check in midway through our campaign…we’re doing great.

A huge, HUGE thank you to everyone who has backed so far, and also to everyone who has helped spread the word about the campaign. Word of mouth is 10000% the most effective way to help people find out this project exists and get them interested in buying the anthology; we’d never get to the goal without our supporters, and we’d never get there without every person who says, “hey, have you seen this?” Y’all rock. We love that we get to bring you awesome books.

Anyway, on to today’s contributor spotlights!

Knight and Squire by Jennifer Smith

About the Artist: Smith has been drawing since a young age. With a focus in traditional drawing techniques, she has recently started using digital mediums to imitate traditional styles. Her focus is in portraiture and landscapes, especially with watercolor. You can find more of her art on her Tumblr.

Link: Tumblr

Allergy Girl and the Hate Arrangement by R. L. Houck

About the Author: R. L. Houck (she/her) still has one of the first stories she ever wrote, all the way back from elementary school. It was about flightless penguins reaching the sun and was a good indication of her boundless imagination and her love of animals. The latter became a full-time veterinary career; the former keeps her occupied with fanfiction and original fiction in her downtime.

She’s sometimes found wandering the woods around her house in Virginia with her dog. If not there, she’s sitting on the couch, catching up on a Netflix series, and smothered by her five cats. Sometimes, there’s even space for her wife.

Links: TikTok

Story Teaser:

“Oh, no! Mom’s been very supportive of me being trans. I just meant the name change. For an English lit professor, she has a real hard-on against Shakespeare,” Portia said. “It was one of the main reasons I chose the name.”

Christa didn’t want to bring the conversation down by discussing unsupportive parents of LGBTQA+ kids. Instead, she jumped on the mention of Shakespeare. “Well, Portia was a kick-ass character too,” Christa said.

“Right? Thank you!”

“You’re quite welcome. Oh! Phoenix! Is that why you chose the tattoo? Never mind, you don’t have to answer that. I apologize—I’m being super nosy,” Christa said, immediately backtracking.

Portia laughed. “You’re fine. That is exactly why I chose the phoenix: rebirth. And those pictures are sent; tell me what you think.”

A few seconds later, Christa got a text message from an unknown number. She opened it to see a gorgeous flower arrangement shown in several pictures taken from multiple angles.

“Wow. This is beautiful,” Christa said, voice faint from awe. “Are you sure this says, ‘I hate your guts and wish abstract misery upon you for the rest of your natural existence’ in flower language?”

“…in so many words, yes,” Portia said, sounding amused.

Tags: allergies, attraction at first sight, character has a different gender than in the source material, customer service representative, deadnaming (accidental), f/f, florist, getting together, the language of flowers, meet awkward, modern, past tense, pining, pov third person limited, siblings, tattoo, triplets, trans

We’ve already raised $7,250 to fund this anthology, and we’re 90% of the way to our goal. Come see what all the fuss is about, and help us spread the word by sharing today’s awesome teasers or any of our past posts!

[theoriginalmarke]

FULLY FLACK FREE FRIDAY

The memorial service for Kitten’s dad is tomorrow morning. 

We had a busy night at bingo with a lot of new faces. I enjoy it when it’s busy, I thrive when things get chaotic and I’m pretty good at keeping my cool. It’s good to use my skills like that every once in a while. 

I ended up ordering the Airhawk seat cushion for the bike. Most FJR riders agree that is the best alternative to a custom seat, at a fraction of the price. A Russell Day Long seat is still on my wish list, but it’s going to be a while.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get moving.

I love you, baby. My prayers are with you. MWAH!

Y’all have a great day.

[skyler10fic]

To Have and to Hold: Ch. 2 Venue Adventures

Carol and Daisy have three available locations in mind for their wedding. Join them as they find the one that is just right for them!

Read on Ao3

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

The first thing to decide on was the location, which would determine the exact weekend around “early June” as their timeframe. Unfortunately, they discovered, four months was cutting it close for most venues. Three spots on their list, however, still had openings, so Carol and Daisy rearranged their schedules to visit them as soon as possible on the last Saturday in February. At least it was a sunny, comparatively warm one for the season.

First up was a barn-style venue at a country club. The manager picked them up from the front office in a golf cart and drove them around the property for what seemed like ages. Despite the warmth of the sun when they were standing still, the biting wind made the ride seem longer. 

“We’re so glad y’all could come out here!” the manager shouted over the noise of the motor and wind in a thick Tennesee accent. “It’s been busy busy busy. We are filling up with events left and right.” 

They finally arrived at the end of the winding trail to a little walking path. Golfers in sweaters taking advantage of the rare sunny winter day waved as they walked passed, and gorgeous huge trees lined the green. 

“This is nice,” Daisy said optimistically. “I like the landscaping and everyone seems friendly.”

“Oh yes,” the manager confirmed. “We all watch out for each other too.” She waved at some golfers who waited until they had passed to tee off. “It’s just around here now.” 

She led them around a curve in the path and through some trees to reveal a rustic-chic barn and open lawn area. 

“This is where we put the buffet area,” she said gesturing to a concrete slab with poles to support hanging lanterns. “And this is great for a photo booth!” 

Carol wandered away a bit, drawn by the sound of a nearby creek. 

“Oh no!” the manager shouted. “Honey, come back on this side of the fencing.” She frantically waved to the whitewashed wood, unfortunately missing a few sections, that lined the wedding area as a golf ball whizzed past Carol’s head. 

Carol’s heart raced as she quickly and carefully made her way back to the manager and to Daisy’s side.    

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Daisy concluded. “What if one of our guests got hit by a ball?” 

The manager pasted on a customer service smile. “We do have a teensy waver for them to sign, but we can always add some decorations or signage to help keep them in the reception area. Before you make any decisions, let’s see the inside!” 

Carol and Daisy exchanged silent looks behind her back as she led them into the barn. They would be hypocritical to be disappointed, as it was exactly what it said on the tin. Artistically arranged horseshoes, branding iron marks, and taxidermied cattle heads decorated the painted gray walls, with knotted, uneven reclaimed wood flooring and a white wagon wheel table at the entrance “for the guest book!” as the manager explained in delight. 

“The website was less…” Carol faltered. “Western?” 

The manager tsked and waved dismissively. “Oh we haven’t updated that yet to reflect the redesign, but themed weddings are so popular these days, and did you know we’re the only Western aesthetic venue in the region?! Of course, you can always tone it down if cowgirl isn’t your style. The longhorns are removable, for an extra fee for labor, and we have some nice floral paintings or some ironwork light fixtures with electric candles, whatever your taste. The space is very adaptable.” 

The tension hung in the air as they tried to find a way to politely refuse. Daisy walked around the barn to give it full consideration. They only had three choices, so if the others turned out to be worse, she wanted to make sure they could make this one work. 

Unfortunately, she was distracted in this thought process by wall decor with “Live, Laugh, Love” underscored by hunting rifles under each word, and she tripped over a knot in the wood, knocking over a three-foot-tall metal silhouette of a cowboy and cowgirl in a romantic embrace. 

“Sorry! Sorry.” She tried to right the artwork and noticed she’d chipped the paint on the cowboy’s hat where it hit the ground. She grimaced and whirled back around to rush to Carol’s side. “You know, we’d really better be going.” 

Carol took the hint and looked at her watch. “Oh, yes, we have another appointment, and with the ride back, we better go now to not be late. This looks, it’s very… aesthetic, as you said!” 

Daisy pressed her lips into a smile and nodded and hummed in agreement. The manager surrendered in disappointment and led them back to the golf cart. 

“Oh, watch out!” She stopped them just in time as a golf ball flew overhead. “Clive’s been losing his sight, poor man, but we can’t tell him not to come. His father was one of the founders of the club! So we just have to be extra careful on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.”

Carol and Daisy sent each other another silent message with raised eyebrows. A Saturday wedding was their goal, assuming it would allow more guests to make it.

Back at their car after a long walk and golf cart ride, Daisy and Carol closed their doors and exhaled. 

“So.” Daisy put the key in the ignition and started the car. “Safety seemed like a concern.” 

“Right. And, as hot as cowgirls are, maybe not our ideal wedding aesthetic,” Carol emphasized and they both let out a giggle they’d been holding in. 

“Okay, so we’re agreed. Not our scene.” Daisy backed out of the parking spot and drove on to the main road. “Though I will take note of the hot cowgirl comment for other activities.”

She glanced briefly over to Carol, who bit her lip as her imagination filled in the blanks. 

“Yes, please. But next up is…” Carol announced as she programmed the address into her phone’s GPS app, “The Church of Love, a remodeled cathedral-style venue that doubles as a popular neighborhood bar, with live music, food, and drinks, drinks, drinks.” She paused, amused. “It says it three times like that. Drinks drinks drinks. There’s more information about the types of alcohol they offer than the space itself or the pricing or what’s included.” 

Daisy sighed. “Yeah, I’m hoping they have more details in person. I mean, obviously, they are a bar, so that’s their business, but it would be good to know what ballpark we’re talking here budget-wise.” 

Carol shrugged. “Probably standard to not have it on their website. Most places didn’t either. But like, do they work with caterers, do they provide a sound system…”

“It didn’t have many pictures either. Most of them were of the stained glass windows so I didn’t get a good sense of the space.” 

They drove up to the steepled building with neon signs out front and beer ad banners flapping in the wind. It was only 2 p.m., so the parking lot was empty, save one car at the far end. They got out and knocked on the huge wooden doors, trying to avoid the judgmental gaze of the gargoyles and other creatures above and around them. 

“Hey!” called a man with spiky white hair wearing a Hawaiian shirt in 40-degree weather. “That’s just for show. Entrance is over here.” He pointed to a normal-sized metal door on the side of the church and walked inside, so they followed. The entryway and lobby were dark, but the man flipped on lights and unlocked doors as he went, clearly in charge of the facility.

“Hi, hey,” Daisy greeted as they caught up with him. “We have an appointment to talk about having a wedding here? Are you Jack?”

“Jackie,” the man corrected, “Jack was my dad. And he’d be rolling over in his grave if he knew what I’d done to his church and hosting marriages between…” Jackie looked back at them, stopped himself, and had a wheezing coughing fit. “Sorry, nothing contagious, just believe ‘em when they say smoking’s bad for ya, kids.” He coughed again and Carol and Daisy tried not to visibly recoil. 

He opened a final door and swept his arm around. “Here it is!” The first thing they noticed was the pride he took in it. The second as they stepped into the former sanctuary was the giant stained glass rose windows above with rows and rows of narrow panes of stained glass just below, throwing light all around them. 

“Whoa,” Daisy smiled. “Okay, that’s cool.” 

“Oh!” Carol lowered her gaze to see an equally huge bar counter under one of the windows. Neon lights lined the shelves full of tequila and vodka and beers of every variety and more. “Right here in the space.” 

“Convenient, right?” Jackie waggled his eyebrows. “Wait ‘til you see this.” He pressed a remote and a disco ball descended from one of the archways. Then another. And another. 

Daisy scrunched her nose in the way she did when she was trying not to be rude. “So, we were thinking the reception and the ceremony would be in different rooms. Is there anything like that?” 

Jackie raised his hands in peace, “Okay, okay, I see where you’re coming from. We have these partitions built in for this.” He walked to one of the walls at the narrow midsection of the sanctuary and folded out hinged room dividers, and the other on the other side. “Back when this was a fancy church, they’d’ve had the choir up here, see, and the people in the back in what’s now the reception space.” 

“Party in the back, got it,” Daisy confirmed. She followed Carol to the front where the altar still stood. 

Jackie’s phone rang and he walked away for a moment. 

Standing before the altar, Daisy followed Carol’s gaze up to the massive crucifix, complete with with Christ’s dying body carved in marble. Carol shivered. Daisy soothed her back. “You okay?” 

Carol huffed out a half-laugh and turned to face the sanctuary. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s weird, though. I can’t decide if it’s too holy or not enough.”

Daisy noticed below the stained glass but above the party scene, another row of gargoyles and angels stared down at them. “On paper, it sounds so cool. But in reality, it just doesn’t feel right, does it?”

They noted the way Jackie’s voice carried as he ranted to someone on the phone, echoing throughout the sanctuary even though he was far on the other side. 

Carol shrugged and gestured loosely to the marble bar counter with over a dozen marble stools and a whole wall of bottles. “It does seem like a cool bar concept. But maybe not for our wedding?” 

“Nah.” Daisy waved to Jackie, who waved back. She wasn’t entirely sure if he understood that they were leaving, but it didn’t matter anyway. “On to lucky number three!” 

The third venue had said to call first, so Carol talked to the receptionist who told them to come and reassured them that they would love the space, but that the venue’s manager was out dealing with an urgent situation and would meet them there as soon as she was available.

“Sounds like we have some time,” Carol said to Daisy after hanging up. “Wanna get coffee first?” 

“God, yes.” Daisy pulled into a Starbucks and they went in for a rest stop and refreshments in their long afternoon. 

Carol nibbled her thumbnail as they waited for their drinks. “What if this next one is another bust? What’s after that?” 

Daisy blew out her lips. “We go back to the drawing board, I guess. Maybe some of the ones that said they were full have cancellations or a waiting list? Wedding venues must have cancellations all the time, right, with people changing their dates or whatever?”

The barista called Carol’s name and she stepped up to take her drink, thank them, and wait for Daisy’s. Then she had an idea. “We could get creative, maybe somewhere we’re not thinking of? Somewhere not on the usual lists.”

The barista called out a drink for Tracey. Carol made sure they didn’t accidentally mean Daisy, but no, a Tracey stepped up to get an iced coffee. 

“Sorry, that’s mine,” Tracey said as Carol moved out of the way. 

“Iced coffee in February,” Daisy remarked, “that’s something I would do.” 

Tracey gave a little smile in response, then asked, “Hey, were you talking about wedding venues? I didn’t mean to overhear, just my wife and I got married last spring at a great place.” 

With that sentence, Tracey had their attention. “We’d love any recommendations at this point,” Daisy confessed. “We’re aiming for June, and most places are booked already.” 

Tracey searched in her phone for the information for the venue and showed them her screen. “Here, try this one. Gorgeous landscaping, right on this pond, there’s a wedding chapel and then an outdoor space and a reception hall with a kitchen. It’s owned by the city parks department, but as long as you bring in all your own people—photography, catering, deejay, whatever—and clean up when you’re done, it’s a good place to look into. We loved it.” 

“Thank you!” Carol typed the name of the venue and the city parks website came up with a page for the park it was in. 

“Good luck, and congratulations!” Tracey called as she left. Daisy's drink came just in time. 

Carol saw Daisy was holding in a smile. 

“What is it?” Carol asked as they walked out of the coffee shop and back to the car. 

“Look at the next address on the list.” 

“What?”

“Just do it!” Daisy urged with a laugh, getting out the keys as they reached the car. 

“Wait. No.” Carol looked up over the car at her. 

“Yup.” Daisy grinned and got in. When they were ready to go, she waited for Carol’s phone to bring up directions to the park. “Sounds like this is the one. Let’s go.” 

“How did I not realize that I was calling the parks department earlier?” Carol asked herself. “She just answered with her name, I guess, and I assumed it was a business.” 

Daisy stopped at a light and took a drink of her coffee. “I just showed you photos of this one, not the site, because honestly the web page sucked. City websites always suck, and I didn’t want you to hate it because of that or think it was run down or cheap or something just because it was a parks department venue.” 

“Fair,” Carol replied, scrolling through the scant information on the park web page. It was poorly adapted for the mobile browser, so she had to scroll horizontally as well as vertically. 

They arrived at the park just as a car with the parks department logo pulled in. 

A woman in a maroon peacoat with a clipboard got out and rushed over to them at a speed her pumps would allow. “So sorry! I was running late because there was a raccoon at the playground…” 

“Oh, that’s okay.” Daisy cringed that they had stopped for coffee after saying they were coming right over. “No rush. We just arrived.” 

“Ah! Perfect timing then. I’m Anne.” She shook both of their hands and led the way up a wooden ramp to the wedding chapel. “Let’s see here.” 

She pulled out a truly impressive ring of keys of every shape and variety and unlocked the door. An entryway with restrooms and a bulletin board of parks department activities opened up into a lobby area with a table, a few chairs, and carpet to prevent echoing. There was a simple wood stand for a guest book and a few windows for natural lighting. 

“It was renovated a few years ago, so while it looks new, it has a long history,” Anne explained.

She opened the chapel doors to reveal a modern but simple chapel. One round stained glass window above the altar showed a rose surrounded by a rainbow of colors. Large plain glass panes in the front gave them a stunning view of the pond, surrounded by willows, oaks, and evergreens. 

Anne apologized again, “It’s not the best view now but by June, I promise everything will be in bloom.” She pointed out which plants grew on which sides of the pond and the center where a fountain would be sparkling come spring but was off for the winter. 

They turned to the inside. A wood podium stood at the front with various cables and plugs for the sound system. There was nothing particularly religious about the room, nor any other clear “aesthetic” or “theme.” Daisy did notice built-in hooks for floral arrangements or other decorations, and Carol pointed out the seating was movable pews, if they needed more or fewer. 

“Yes,” Anne confirmed. “This is our standard spacing, but we have two more rows if needed or we can space them out a bit more to make the room look less empty for fewer guests. Or add a chair or two from the lobby.”

For every question and concern, Anne seemed to have an answer. She then walked them over to the outdoor and indoor reception area options, showed them the typical places buffet tables and gift tables and cake tables could go in each, the spots for speakers whether they decided to hire musicians or a deejay or a simple sound system, and a basic but functional kitchen. 

Daisy’s heart raced. This was it. She looked to Carol, who took her hand and squeezed. 

“Well,” Anne turned to them, checking off the last item on her clipboard. “That’s all I have, any more questions for me?” 

“Just to confirm,” Daisy asked, trying not to get her hopes up too high yet, “you said this is available in June?”

Anne checked her clipboard as they waited with bated breath. “Mmhm. I have down that you want Saturday, June 4, is that correct? We put a temporary hold on that date for you, but I’m afraid if you don’t put down a deposit today, we’ll have to open it up again and we can’t guarantee it will stay open.” 

Misinterpreting Carol and Daisy’s excited shared look as apprehension, she stepped back, “I’ll give you two a moment to talk it over. I’ll be out here.” She stepped outside and walked around the side of the building to remove some litter from a dormant flowerbed. 

Carol’s smile bloomed as she saw Daisy’s. “Yes,” they both said at once. Daisy squealed. “I can’t believe it. We’re getting married. Here.” 

“C’mon. Let’s test it out.” Carol led her back to the chapel. They hurried to the front and looked out at the pond, beginning to change color as the sun neared the horizon, just out of view. They stood facing each other, holding each other’s hands just as they would in the ceremony. 

“I do,” Daisy teased. 

“I do too,” Carol replied and winked. They kissed just as Anne found them. She waited politely until they noticed her.

“We’ll take it,” Carol confirmed. 

“Please,” Daisy added. 

She was tempted to add more pleases, but it was unnecessary as Anne replied, “Perfect! Let’s get the boring part over with, shall we?” She raised her clipboard to indicate she meant the paperwork. 

She led them out into the lobby where there was a table to sit at, turned on a light as it was starting to get dark, pulled out the forms, and clarified the amount for the deposit. 

As Daisy ran to the car for her checkbook, Anne confessed to Carol, “I’m glad it is a good fit for you two. Some people think it’s too plain or too small, but I’ve always loved this place.” 

“It’s perfect for us,” Carol said, reading over the paperwork and signing where indicated. 

“My parents were married here,” Anne said quietly, then put back on her cheerier parks department tone. “Of course, it’s been through two renovations since then. Wi-Fi, new appliances in the kitchen, and ADA accessible now.”

Carol finished her part of the paperwork as Daisy arrived back inside and sat down with them. She wrote the check and filled out her part of the paperwork as Carol asked Anne more about the park’s history, which Anne was all too happy to provide.  

When they were done, they stood out front as Anne locked up, remarking on how it had gotten cold while they were inside. Carol and Daisy got out their gloves from their coat pockets, wrapped their scarves tighter, and took in the surrounding park.

“Call me if you have any questions,” Anne called out to them and waved goodbye. They waved and then turned back to the pond to watch the last of the sunset fade into twilight and the stars begin to appear. Daisy slipped her arm around Carol’s waist, and Carol laid her head against Daisy’s. 

“June can’t come fast enough,” Carol sighed happily. 

“I know what you mean, but, uh, we have a lot to do before then, missy.” Daisy pulled her away and back to the car as they started shivering in the February air. “Invitations, guest list, cake, food, drinks, a wedding website, registry, music, decorations, what we’re going to wear, what color we want so we know what to ask the wedding party to wear, honeymoon destination…” 

“Okay, okay,” Carol laughed as Daisy started up the car. “I just meant, I’m excited to marry you right in there.” She pointed to the chapel. 

“In our adorable wedding chapel! Aw, look at it.” They exhaled happily together, which made them laugh at their own cheesiness, and then Daisy drove them home where they could at least check off the biggest item on their list. 

Who would come and what they would see and do and eat while at their wedding, well, that could wait for another day.

[fractallogic]

Literally the moment I pressed post on the last one, my doorbell rang to alert me to PAKIDGE

However, I’ve now been on the phone with Amazon customer service for 15 min (by the time I hung up the call, it was THIRTY-TWO MINUTES) because I noticed “hey those are ads and I specifically paid to NOT see ads… also this is a 16GB one and I definitely ordered the 8GB one”

And all the love to this poor support person but boy they do not have the best and brightest working the support desk because it feels like she’s willfully misunderstanding my problem

The conversation we had (under the cut) was MINDNUMBING and EXHAUSTING and you know who desperately needs the apparent services of this company I’m interviewing for to VASTLY improve their call center staff? Fucking Amazon. Jesus.

AND AGAIN!! They are probably fucking swamped (and also why I’m not receiving my NEW kindle until fucking Monday, which, hello, why bother ordering it at midnight then). And for a call center I know you basically just have to be a warm body who can follow a script. But man I am so frustrated with my first-world problem.

“I ordered X+Y and I got only A, which comes out to the same price, so I’m pretty sure the packages got mixed up before shipment”

“so you ordered a second kindle also on July 11th?”

“*facepalm* no, just the one.”

“Okay I can remove the ads on it for you for a $20 charge”

“uh no, I paid to have the ads removed”

“oh I see that here, okay, let me make sure we can get you a refund on that.”

“Wait before you do that, can we figure out why there are two kindles on my account??? This is the only one I have”

“okay so just go to the settings and read off the serial number”

“it just started updating itself??”

“Oh that’s because I accidentally pressed the button to remove ads”

“[bruh.] okay, well, it says it’s restarting, so I’ll be able to get you that serial number soon”

“So it says here you ordered the 8GB without ads and the 16GB with ads”

“[BRUHHHH] nope, just the 8GB one, I don’t know why I have the 16GB one here and registered to my account, because in my orders I only have the 8GB one, which says it was delivered today, which is actually the 16GB one that I’m calling you about”

“…”

“Listen I’m happy to return it [no I’m not, the correct customer service thing for the GIANT MEGACORPORATION AMAZON to do is to say “hahaha oh that’s okay, it’s our fault, we’ll let you keep that one, let me just delete the other one off your account, isn’t that weird!!”]”

“Okay great please deregister it from your account and let me get a return started for it, do you want a QR code?”

“…for what?”

“For UPS to ship it back, unless you’d rather have a printable label?”

“[I literally just got an email with a barcode in it to send back my kindle fire today from the Amazon lockers in Whole Foods but okay sure] okay, yeah, the QR code is better, then”

*I am on hold for literally ten minutes writing this post thinking wtf is happening for a QR code to be generated*

“Okay sorry for taking all your time ma’am, but since it was just received today, we couldn’t generate a QR code, and we’ll have to give you a printable label. the replacement device will be shipped to you by……… Monday”

“…sigh fine” [WHAT WAS THE POINT OF ORDERING IT IMMEDIATELY THEN]

“Is Monday okay for you ma’am??”

“I mean yeah it’s fine, I was just [white lie time!!] hoping to take it with me on a trip this weekend”

“Will you be able to receive it on Monday, ma’am?”

“Yeah. Monday’s fine.”

“Okay you should receive it by Monday, but you can use the other one in the meantime, since the shipping label expires in a week”

[bruh. I deregistered it. I’m not setting it up again, sending it back and then setting up a kindle for a THIRD TIME] “okay”

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“Nope [please just leave me alone now y’all are useless]”

“Okay enjoy your weekend have a nice day bye!”

“Yeeeepppp okay you too bye”