#dish wash bar dealer

[voidthewanderer]

For the OTP Prompt Challenge!

20. Date Night

&

24. Washing Dishes

((( thank you c: )))

@anonwyvern || OTP Prompt Challenge

I adore that this is also essentially dealer's choice 👀👀 It's been rattling around in my brain for a little bit what exactly I wanted to do for this one, but then it came to me and I get to write two ships for the price of one. It was all I could think about writing when I got home from work on the fourteenth. Tagging @bleumanouche for this as well, as Sweetjane is his! Yeah, I could have also done these spicy as well, but I already knew this would be a long one, didn't want it to be super incredibly long. This entire piece made me an absolutely mushy baby writing it. Lots of moments that I think would bring some of these guys to their knees honestly. A much longer one, but yeah.

Rating: T (mature themes mostly only implied, though also spoken about/teased) Word Count: 2939

An aggravated growl sounded from the ghoul chef as he tried to prepare for the evening’s meal. It was bad enough that he didn’t have his partner there to help him out, but they’d been busy working on a project that they were keeping a secret from him. He narrowed his eyes at the tanned ghoul perched on the bar stool across from his workspace, slowly starting to get more and more fed up with the badgering.

“C’mon, Arsen, please,” Ripper begged, giving the other a charming smile. He knew this wouldn’t work on the other, but he still had to try, “You can make it after you’re done with this stuff, I know you can! I wanna do somethin’ special for Sweetjane!”

“Then make it yourself,” Arsenic growled back, “Just stay outta my way.”

The elder ghoul pursed his lips for a moment, contemplating what he could do to get out of actually cooking something. What he wanted to do for her was far beyond what he knew he could make. Perhaps a little tease wouldn’t hurt…

“If ya do this for me, I’ll tell ya what Crow’s makin’.”

This caught Arsenic’s attention, his brow perking at the thought, “What makes ya think I wanna know?”

“Caught your attention, dinnit? Make this for me an’ I’ll tell ya.” He wouldn’t really ruin the surprise, but he could see that Arsenic was actually considering the offer now. Arsenic studied Ripper for a moment, trying to gauge whether or not he was telling the truth, “Ya’d really break their trust?”

Ripper shrugged, “Act surprised when it’s actually done, ain’t no big deal. You’re gonna find out eventually, anyways.”

Another growl before Arsenic finally gave it, “Fuckin’ fine. This better be worth it.”

Ripper nearly sprung up from the chair, shoving a list of stuff he’d wanted into Arsenic’s hand, “Thank you!”

Just as he was about to run off, Arsenic reached over the counter, tightly gripping the other’s wrist, “Ah, not before ya leave. Speak.”

“O-oh right, yeah! Uh… let’s just say that… eh…” He had to think fast “-You’re gonna be in th’ same place as me pretty soon.”

Arsenic’s grip lessened slightly, his gaze casting to the ring on his finger for a moment. It gave Ripper enough time to pull himself free and dart off into the farm. He had a lot to prepare for; making sure the kids were gonna be alright for the night, among other things. All the while, Arsenic just stood in his kitchen, frozen with the thoughts that swam in his head now. If what the conclusion he came to was right, there was no way he’d be able to keep it a secret that he knew… Hopefully, he could. Crow seemed to want to keep whatever it was one and he didn’t want to crush that.

***

“Ya ready t’ head out?” Ripper smiled at his wife, grabbing the basket he’d filled with everything he needed for their first date night since getting married. Sweetjane gave a nod, “Lead th’ way!”

Ripper gave Arsenic a nod, who only returned it with a half-hearted wave as he served the ghouls waiting for their dinner. On the way out, he gave Amy a hug, “Be good for Crow an’ Arsen. We’re gonna be further up river than we normally go, I don’t want ya wanderin’ off if ya really need us without ‘em, alright?”

“I will! Bye, Dad! See you later, Mom!”

This caused Ripper to hug his daughter just a bit tighter, trying to not cry happily at hearing that. Crow couldn’t contain their coo at the couple, though otherwise kept their mouth shut. They could see that Sweetjane had a smile on her lips, trying to not let out a happy cry as well. They practically pried Ripper off the child, “Go have fun, you two. We’ll keep these two safe, don’t worry.”

The pale ghoul practically shooed the two out the door; Ripper quickly taking the lead towards the riverside. He held Sweetjane’s hand tightly as the couple carefully tread along the small trail they’d started to wear into the embankment. Sweetjane spoke up, “’At was sweet, wasn’t it?”

Ripper nodded, “Not gonna lie, didn’t think either one of them were gonna call you mom. Know ya told ‘em that ya weren’t here t’ replace Amelia, y’know? Or t’ like… come up with their own thing t’ call ya.”

“She’s a good girl, she is. Wasn’t expectin’ anythin’ ‘at soon, anyway.”

The worn pathway faded from beneath their feet, Ripper taking more care to not drop the basket, but also making sure Sweetjane didn’t fall into the water either. He didn’t lead her too far away from The Slog; though the settlement wasn’t exactly in view either. Just a nice little spot that seemed to have recently been dug out, perfect for the picnic he’d planned.

He laid out the blanket, getting everything out of the basket before setting up a couple of pillar candles to light. After, he held his arms out, giving her a bright smile, “Ta-da! A nice little place just for us! Been comin’ out here t’ make a flat place when I could. Was thinkin’ maybe could make a little gazebo or somethin’ int’ th’ hill a bit, be a nice place for us t’ have our dates an’ a place for us t’ bring th’ family for little outings too.”

“Aww, Rippa, I love it,” Sweetjane crooned at the ghoul, her arms snaking up around his neck and shoulders. His arms found their home at her waist as he dipped his head down slightly for a kiss. He broke the kiss only to lift her up off the ground and spin her around, “Nothin’s gonna change now that we’re married. If anythin’ I wanna make this a regular thing.”

“O’course! This’ll be a great spot t’ get away. How long ya been doin’ this fer?”

Ripper shrugged, sitting on the blanket, and gently pulling Sweetjane down next to him, “Dunno, like three months or so? Figured it was a good place, has good cover with trees, right by th’ water, good fishing spot. If we get some sort of seating or canopy up, think this might be a good place too ‘at Cody would wanna spend some alone time when he wants it, so he doesn’t coop himself up in his room all th’ time, y’know?”

Sweetjane pressed her hand against Ripper’s cheek, him tilting into it slightly, “Chiriklo, it’s perfect. Yer perfect. Now, c’mon… tell me whatcha got goin’ on.”

Handing off a bowl, Ripper opened up the old thermos that Arsenic had provided, pouring out the soup that was inside, “Rabbit stew! I know it’s a bit warm still for hot soup, but I know ya said ya hadn’t had it in a while. An’ for dessert…” He shifted the two bottles of Nuka Cola that had been leaning on a box to the side, pulling up the box, “A cake! I dunno what Arsen decided to bake for it, but it looks good!”

Sweetjane took a spoon, setting the bowl to the side for a moment to open one of the bottles of soda. She couldn’t help but laugh, “Whatcha gotta do t’ get ‘im t’ do alla dis?”

“I may or may not have teased him about what Crow’s been up to.”

“Rippa! Ya know they wanna keep ‘at a secret!”

“I didn’t tell him! Not outright anyways! He’s not gonna know exactly what they’re making. An’ ‘e already knows they’re gettin’ married anyway!”

Ripper put a spoonful of the stew in his mouth, forgetting for a moment that he’d never actually had rabbit before. Well, he certainly realized now, though seemed to be rather pleased with what he’d eaten, rather than concerned. Sweetjane chuckled at him, “What were ya expectin’? Chicken?”

This caused the other to give a playful little pout, “Ey! Ain’t ever had it before!”

“Clearly ya like it,” she mused. He nodded, “’S good.”

Before he took another spoonful, he quickly leaned over, giving the tip of her ear a little nip, “Ain’t nothin’ like what I could be eatin’.”

“Later,” her tone had been rather nonchalant, only pushing Ripper more on edge. He pulled her to lean against his side, the two savoring the calmness of the evening. Stolen kisses between bites, nuzzles into hair, it made for a perfect first date after wedding. Eventually, bellies were full and the two found themselves laid back into the blanket, Sweetjane tucked close to Ripper’s side. His arm had been wrapped around her waist, keeping her close.

She gave a light kiss to the side of his neck, feeling the other shudder at the touch, “Tesoro…”

Shifting to straddle against his hip, Sweetjane couldn’t help but smile down at her partner, it only growing as his hands lightly caressed her thighs, “We got all night yannow…”

“I know…” he hummed, “An’ I want it t’ last that long…”

Sweetjane arched forward, pressing her lips heavily against Ripper’s. His hands lightly trailed up her thighs, resting somewhat firm on her hips; holding her in place. As the session progressed, his pressed his hip up slightly, drawing out a breath from his partner. She was the one to break the kiss, blue eyes intent on his hazel ones. His lips had been curled into a smile, “Ya drive me wild, ya know that, right?”

Ripper pushed himself up so he could be seated, shifting Sweetjane’s legs so she was still sitting in his lap, just a bit more comfortably. His arms rested at her waist, hands locked behind her back, “Tell me… ya wanna have dessert first?”

“I got choices now… don’t I?” Sweetjane hummed, the teasing tone in her voice making him chuckle, “Suppose ya do… Or… We can indulge in all of the sweet things we have here.”

Now that? That sounded like a plan. Their lips locked once more… the first course seemed like it would be one of the sweetest things they brought with them…

***

Knock knock knock

“Who’s there?” Crow called out of their studio, the only noise otherwise coming from the old greenhouse being the music on the radio.

“’S me, babe.”

“Hold on!”

Now there seemed to be a bit of a ruckus going from the inside. Crow had blocked out the lower portion of the windows with old boxes. Arsenic called back inside, “Can ya come out? Would like ya t’ have one more meal before bed!”

Arsenic kept his back to the door, his eyes trained on the two kids who were standing next to him. Crow quickly shuffled out of the room, shutting the door quickly behind them, “Sorry, I got-”

“Caught up in th’ project. I know. You’re better with th’ kids than I am anyway… Dunno if ya wanted t’ do somethin’ with ‘em before they turn in for th’ night too.”

“We don’t need babysitters, y’know,” Cody muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. Crow could see Arsenic take a sharp breath, them lightly touching his arm, “Go to the kitchen, alright? I’ll be right there.”

It took a moment for the other to budge, but did so. Crow waited until he was out of earshot, “I know you guys don’t, but he’s trying. I think spending time with you guys is more for him than it is out of being asked by your father to watch you guys. He’s… eh…” They didn’t know how to explain the mood Arsenic was in. Mourning, maybe? Realizing he’d lost the ability to ever get to partake in.

“He seems sad,” Amy pointed out, causing Crow to nod, “You’re not wrong Amy. Part of him is sad. He lost something that I don’t think he really realized he wanted before it was too late.” Crow glanced back up to Cody, “Don’t take what he does personally. It’s gonna take a long while for him to adjust. If you guys wanna do your own thing, please, go right ahead. Just remember your dad wants you at least back in the house before the sun’s completely past the horizon. And no leaving the settlement.”

“Can we make something to drink before we do anything else?” Cody asked.

“Of course, you just know the rules with the communal kitchen. We’re gonna be cleaning up in a little bit.”

The trio headed back into the pool house, Crow and Amy finding seats at the bar stools. Cody went to pull a couple of mugs from the cabinet, but Arsenic stopped him. He seemed to handle Cody a lot more gently than others who invaded his space at least, “Let me. What were ya makin’?”

“I was gonna make tea for me and Amy before heading back to the house.”

Arsenic placed a small plate of food in front of Crow before turning to pull something out of a cabinet, “’S th’ last packet I have, but how about hot chocolate instead for th’ kid?”

This raised some excitement from Amy, making Crow smile softly at Arsenic in the process. They went to work on their food, eating silently as their fiance made a cup of hot chocolate and ash blossom tea for the kids. The two took the cups, Amy letting out a rather excited ‘thank you’ as they headed to their house. Crow rested their elbow on the counter, cheek lightly pressed in their hand in the process, “You’re really starting to blossom, you know that, right?”

“Shush.”

“I mean it, love. I adore that you’re trying to be good for them. And you’re doing a lot better at not just immediately reacting to Cody’s teenage angst thing he’s got going on. ‘M proud of you.”

“Yeah, yeah…” he sighed softly, pulling the empty plate away. Crow shifted off the stool, making their way around the counter to pull Arsenic into a hug. His arms were tight around them, burying his face against the top of their head. They hummed softly, “You’re wonderful, Arsen… you really are.”

Before pulling away from the hug, Crow shifted to give Arsenic a kiss. His hands fell to their hips, fingers curling against their skin lightly as he tried to pull it deeper. They managed to break free, “Let’s clean up first, how about that?”

He gave a nod, begrudgingly breaking away from the hug to start cleaning up the counter. Crow shuffled behind him to run water in the sink to start dishes. It didn’t take him long to wipe down the counters, quickly finding his place to the left of his partner, scrubbing down each dish and utensil. As he finished each one, he handed it off to Crow, who was content to rinse and dry off each item. He couldn’t help but glance over at Crow every time they’d brush elbows with him, unable to keep his thoughts at bay. They were doing it on purpose, he knew they were, but it still made him feel things.

“Crow?”

They hummed softly, giving him a small glance. Oh, the feeling that gripped at his heart… he loved when they looked at him with those sweet eyes…

“I… I should probably tell you…”

“Arsen, if this is about what Ripper said, I know. He told me.”

This made his stomach drop, “Wh- And you’re not-”

“Of course not. You already know we’re getting married, I dunno why you’re bein’ all shy about it. He told me to assure me that he didn’t tell you what I was working on. That’s still a surprise. You’re somehow the most observant, but most oblivious person I’ve ever met and I love that,” they laughed. Arsenic shifted on his hip, feeling a bit embarrassed that he didn’t realize sooner that Ripper hadn’t actually told him anything. Crow pressed up against his side, “Did what he say get your mind reeling?”

He nodded, swallowing hard before speaking again, “A-a bit, yeah.”

Glancing back down at them, his expression finally softened to match their soft smile, “Tell me.”

Arsenic took a small scoop of bubbles from the sink, brushing the suds against what was left of Crow’s nose ridge; making them laugh. He hummed softly, “’M just… excited. ‘S been so long since we got engaged, y’know? Dunno what ya got planned for everythin’… but goddamn I can’t wait t’ see ya in what you’re gonna wear… whatever ya got planned for th’ rings… Gettin’ t’ call ya mine.”

“You get to do that already,” Crow laughed. Arsenic ducked down, surprising them with a kiss, “The process makes it even more special.”

He handed off the last few dishes to be rinsed and dried, drying off his hands before hugging Crow close to his chest, resting his chin on top of their head while they finished up. When the last of the dishes were done, Arsenic spun Crow around, easily scooping them up and sitting them onto the counter. Their arms draped over his shoulders, lightly holding him close, “Arsen…”

No other words were exchanged, the ghoul pressing his lips to the other’s. He lightly pushed their legs apart slightly, just so he could get between them; quickly relaxing when they locked their legs around his waist. They felt him take a breath, his hands shifting to grip at their thighs. Crow gave a soft laugh, “We goin’ home?”

He gave a chuckle in response between his trailing kisses, “Not ‘nless ya wanna fuck here…”

“Just a little longer…”

“Gladly…” He wasn’t going to object getting to be this close to Crow, even if it meant prolonging what he wanted.

[123-kas]

Sanitaryware Dealers in Jaipur: Finding the Best Quality Products

When it comes to renovating or designing a bathroom, finding the best quality products is paramount. Jaipur, known for its rich heritage and growing urban landscape, offers a plethora of options for homeowners and designers seeking top-notch sanitaryware and bathroom accessories. Kasliwal, a prominent sanitaryware dealer in Jaipur, stands out for its extensive range of high-quality products, including bathroom tiles design, luxury bathroom accessories, and modern wash basin designs. Here’s why Kasliwal should be your go-to destination for all your sanitaryware needs.

Extensive Range of Bathroom Tiles Design

Kasliwal offers an impressive variety of bathroom tiles design, catering to diverse tastes and styles. Whether you prefer classic elegance or contemporary chic, their collection includes everything from traditional patterns to modern bathroom tiles. These tiles are not only aesthetically pleasing but also highly durable, ensuring that your bathroom remains stylish and functional for years to come.

High-Quality Bathroom Accessories

A bathroom isn’t complete without the right accessories. As a leading bathroom accessories dealer in Jaipur, Kasliwal provides a comprehensive selection of items that combine functionality with luxury. From towel racks and soap dispensers to mirrors and storage solutions, their products are designed to enhance the usability and appeal of your bathroom. The luxury bathroom accessories offered by Kasliwal add a touch of sophistication and elegance, transforming any ordinary bathroom into a lavish retreat.

Elegant Wash Basin Designs

The wash basin is often the centerpiece of a bathroom, and Kasliwal excels in offering designer wash basins that make a statement. Their range includes both classic and modern wash basin designs, crafted from high-quality materials to ensure longevity and style. Whether you’re looking for a minimalist modern wash basin design or a more ornate option, Kasliwal’s collection is sure to have something that fits your vision.

Parry Ware Dealers in Jaipur

Kasliwal is proud to be among the trusted Parry Ware dealers in Jaipur. Parryware is renowned for its innovative and reliable sanitaryware products, and partnering with them allows Kasliwal to provide customers with the best in terms of quality and design. From toilets and bidets to basins and faucets, Parryware’s range complements the luxurious offerings at Kasliwal, ensuring that customers have access to top-tier products.

Luxury Bathroom Tiles

For those who want to create a truly opulent bathroom, Kasliwal’s selection of luxury bathroom tiles is unmatched. These tiles feature exquisite designs and premium materials, making them the perfect choice for upscale homes and commercial spaces. Luxury bathroom tiles from Kasliwal not only enhance the visual appeal of your bathroom but also add significant value to your property.

Comprehensive Bathroom Accessories Sets

Kasliwal offers bathroom accessories sets that include all the essential items needed to outfit your bathroom. These sets are carefully curated to ensure that each piece complements the others, creating a cohesive and stylish look. From soap dishes and toothbrush holders to towel bars and shower caddies, these sets make it easy to achieve a polished and coordinated appearance.

Expert Guidance and Exceptional Service

Choosing the right sanitaryware and bathroom accessories can be overwhelming, but Kasliwal’s expert team is always ready to assist. They provide personalized recommendations and guidance, helping you select products that meet your specific needs and preferences. This exceptional service ensures that you make informed decisions and achieve the best results for your bathroom design project.

CONCLUSION

Finding the best quality sanitaryware and bathroom accessories in Jaipur is easy with Kasliwal. As a leading sanitaryware dealer in Jaipur, they offer an extensive range of products, including bathroom tiles design, luxury bathroom accessories, and modern wash basin designs. With their commitment to quality and customer satisfaction, Kasliwal ensures that every product meets the highest standards, making them the ideal choice for all your bathroom renovation and design needs. Whether you are looking for Parryware products, designer wash basins, or luxury bathroom tiles, Kasliwal has everything you need to create a beautiful and functional bathroom. Visit Kasliwal today and discover the best in bathroom design and sanitaryware.

[copycatupholsteryflorida]

Pontoon seat covers for damaged seats

You may wonder what a pontoon boat is. Recreational boats known as pontoons are one type that rely on them for buoyancy. Because to advancements in the design and use of pontoons, boat dealers have recently brought them back into the spotlight. They have historically been quite leisurely, which makes them ideal for outdoor activities like fishing, sunbathing, and even partying. Pontoon boats for sale today move far more quickly than they did in the past. Several manufacturers are able to provide a luxurious pontoon boating experience with high-end interiors due to the design's simplicity. But even the most basic contemporary pontoon boats can turn as sharply as vessels with fiberglass hulls. These boats are typically between 14 and 30 feet long.

Pontoon Boat Seats

A pontoon boat is a wonderful way to spend time with family and friends and is ideal for exploring quiet, landlocked rivers. The deck of the boat is supported by pontoons, which increase its buoyancy and make the recreational area safer. Compared to other boat designs, pontoon boats often have greater usable deck space, allowing for the installation of bench seats, lounge chairs, stand-up bars, and sunbeds.

Types of Pontoon Boat Seats

Comfort is important when choosing boat seats for a pontoon-based vessel because pontoon boats are primarily leisure watercraft. Pontoon boat seat covers are frequently modular so that a space-efficient configuration can be created. But, smaller boats could gain by installing folding boat seats to add more sitting in the confined spaces of the boat. Pontoon boat benches have hollow, frequently hinged-lid designs that provide additional equipment storage. Contemporary bench seats are lighter than earlier model plywood boat seats since they are made of pressured wood or high-density plastic. For greater comfort, the seats typically have substantial cushions with waterproof covering.

Protecting Vinyl Boat seats for pontoon

All boaters who live in Florida have to deal with the sun's harmful effects. All materials will ultimately fade, dry out, and crack due to exposure to the sun's rays, whether it is their skin, their boat's gelcoat, or their vinyl seats. Maintaining your boat's vinyl seats is the greatest way to extend their lifespan. Marine grade vinyl is a tough, waterproof material that should be allowed to breathe, much like leather. Using harsh chemicals will not only remove the material's exterior layer of protection; they will also seep into its pores and weaken its structural integrity.

The easiest approach to preserve your seats is to wash them with warm water, a soft bristles brush, and either a marine grade vinyl cleaner or a mixture of mild dish soap like Dawn or Ivory. Apply a thin layer of a vinyl protectant to seal the material and create a layer of sun protection when the seat has completely dried. Never use abrasives or strong chemicals like Goo B Gone, Formula 409, Murphy Soap, degreasers, kerosene, gasoline, or acetone on stains like blood, oils and grease, mustard and ketchup, bird droppings, or residues from sunscreen or insect repellents. Blood stains and other certain stains (mustard, ketchup, suntan lotions) can be easily cleaned with a quick swipe of cold water or mild soap and water if they are addressed right away.

Maintaining Pontoon Boat Seats

Pontoon boats' seats are frequently exposed to water because they are frequently used for swimming, skiing, and other water sports. Pontoon boat seats are waterproof, but if not properly maintained, they are still susceptible to growing mold and mildew over time. After every trip, pontoon boat seats need to be cleaned to avoid further problems. Before storing the seat, clean it with warm water and a light soap, and let it completely dry. To remove mildew spots, expert’s advice using non-chlorine based spray mold remover and a soft sponge. Mold colonies encased in seams and cracks are disintegrated by the spray and removed using a sponge. To get rid of mold, avoid using a scrub brush or scratchy sponge. The upholstery gets minor scratches as a result.

Seat Covers for Pontoon Boat

If you have trouble utilizing a mooring cover, seat covers might be an excellent option. They are utilized as an addition to the mooring cover that would ordinarily protect furniture. The unique covers for each item of furniture on the yacht are precisely what they sound like. These covers just protect the seats and helm, not the floor at all. Yet, they are more manageable than the substantial, single-piece morning cover. Seat covers will take just as long to install on the whole boat as a mooring cover does, while being simpler to use. If they wish to take a fast cruise without having to uncover and recover the entire boat, sailors frequently prefer this option. Seat covers are sometimes available as an option from the factory for pontoons. If you don't, there are outside sellers who will fit your pontoon boat's seat covers specifically. If there was only me and one other person on the boat, I found the seat coverings on my old pontoon boat to be useful. We didn't have to uncover and recover the entire boat only for a short sail because we could simply slip a cover off of one or two seats.

Cover Your Bases

Your pontoon boat can be maintained in a variety of ways to keep it largely dry and spotless. You've got a winner if you can locate a cover that works effectively and doesn't make you frustrated at the conclusion of each covering session. Regarding boat covers, everyone has different tastes. You can discover a product on the market that best meets your demands, whether you want snaps or clips, a full one-piece canvas or individual seat covers. Although pontoon boat manufacturers are continuously trying to make this process as simple as possible, it's safe to say that it's one of the least enjoyable aspects of boating. If you're having trouble deciding how to cover your pontoon boat.

[avijitdigitalhub]

5 Easy Hacks to Wash Burnt Kitchen Utensils

Introduction

Did you keep the stove on for too long under your pan and now are left with a sizeable burnt stain on it? No need to bat an eye. The best dish wash bar dealer and supplier in Kolkata brings you 6 easy hacks to make your burnt kitchen utensils shine like never before.

6 Easy Hacks to make your Burnt Utensils Shine

 1.  Pour some Wine – If you have some aged wine in your home, you are in luck. Pour some of it on the burnt pan and allow it to sit for some time. After a few minutes, the black stains will disappear.

2.  Use Vinegar – Fill the burnt utensil with water and add a cup of vinegar into it. Let it soak overnight and clean it up the following day. In the morning, clean the vessel with regular soap.

3. Boil detergent powder – Fill the burnt utensil with water and 2 – 3 tbsp detergent powder. Let the mixture boil in the burnt utensil for 15 – 20 minutes. Drain the water and gently scrub the burnt particles away.

4. Onion - Fill the burnt utensil with water. Peel off five to six onion skins and drop them in the water. Put the utensil on the stove, close the lid and turn the knob to high flames. Let it boil for 20 to 30 minutes. Remove the utensil from the stove and clean the surface with regular soap.

5. Baking Soda – Soak the utensil in warm lemon water for an hour, then scrub the burnt area in a circular motion with baking soda. It will get rid of the burnt stain.

6.  Carbonated drinks - Pour any carbonated drink like cola into the burnt utensil and let it simmer on a low flame for few minutes. You will see the black stains will disappear in no time, says the best dish wash bar dealer and supplier in Kolkata.

[bodhibhavanskolkata]

A dishwash bar manufacturer Company in West Bengal provides tips to remove tea stains from cups.

[southeastchemicals]

The best dish wash bar dealer and supplier in Kolkata brings you 6 easy hacks to make your burnt kitchen utensils shine like never before.

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

A Normal Marriage

Pairing: Hitman!Bucky Barnes x Hitman!Fem!Reader

Words: 1.2k

Summary: The Reader and Bucky have a “normal marriage”. 

Warnings: None, light angst

a/n: So this is part one of my Mr and Mrs Barnes series. I will be working on it so please bear with me. If you have ideas please let me know!!! Anyways I hope you like this fic!!!!

You woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon. You reached out to feel the quickly warming spot that your husband slept in last night. You internally groaned wishing he was still there but pushed it aside and sat up. You ran a hand through your tousled hair and scanned the room. Habit. You sighed and stood up, stretching your locked-up muscles before grabbing your robe and making your way downstairs.

There in the kitchen was your fully dressed husband. James Barnes. He preferred Bucky, but you always introduced him as James and he would correct you. He was standing there in a well-tailored suit, with a long black trenchcoat, and the purple tie you had picked out for him. He had a cup of coffee in his hand and one on the counter for you. 

No words were shared as you walked up and grabbed your coffee. You placed a chaste kiss on his cheek as you passed. You grabbed a few pieces of bread and popped them in the toaster. You placed two pieces of bacon on a plate and grabbed your toast as it popped up.

Once he was finished, Bucky set his mug in the sink and grabbed his briefcase. He gave you a kiss on the cheek and turned to walk out of the house. 

“Dinner is at seven.” You said as he turned around. 

“I’ll be there.” Bucky nodded and walked out of the kitchen. You grumbled a few curses under your breath, as you ate your breakfast. 

You walked upstairs and got ready for the day. You decided on a pair of black slacks, a flowy blouse, a black trench coat, and a pair of heels. You did the rest of your morning routine and then got in your minivan. You drove to the building you worked out of. You took the lift up to the top floor, your headquarters. You walked into the room full of women. 

“Good morning, Y/n.” The women greeted, as you walked in. You smiled and nodded saying your greetings. You took off your coat and took a seat at your desk. Your best friend, Natasha, came up and handed you a new file.

“Who do we have today?” You asked, opening the folder. Natasha sat down in front of my desk. 

“Brock Rumlow. Former government agent turned illegal weapons dealer. He’s been selling military-grade weapons to the terrorist group HYDRA. He needs to be stopped.” Natasha explained, and you nodded and closed the file. 

“Got it. Where and when?” You questioned, and Natasha handed you another file and walked away. You opened the file and saw that Rumlow was going to be at the Waldorf Astoria the next night at six. You had today to prepare the perfect plan. So you turned on your monitor and got to work. 

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

At three you finished with work and left. You first stopped at the furniture store and picked up your new drapes. You pulled in the driveway and got out with the drapes in hand. You waved to your neighbors and walked into the house. 

You changed into a pair of leggings but kept your blouse on. You tied your hair up in a messy bun and worked on taking down the old drapes. You finished putting up the new drapes at three-thirty, it didn’t take long. So you changed and went for a run. You ran two miles before turning around and coming back. You took a shower and changed back into your around-the-house clothes. 

It was five-thirty when you started dinner. You cooked a pot roast, roasted potatoes, and green beans. At six-forty-five on the dot, you were chopping up the parsley when you heard Bucky’s car pull up. You stopped for a moment listening to where he was coming in. You watched the garage door open and started cutting again. 

In walked Bucky, he set his briefcase on the bar stool. He took off his trench coat and his suit jacket, and he rolled up his sleeves. He walked to the platter of liquor, poured himself a bourbon glass, and then walked into the kitchen. 

“Welcome home, honey.” You greeted, sprinkling the parsley on the potatoes. 

“Thanks, sweets.” He nodded and looked at the food on the kitchen counter. “Dinner smells good.” He said, and a slight smile pulled at your lips. 

“I’m glad.” You said as the timer went off on the oven. You turned to pull the roast out and you heard him walk away. From what you could hear you heard him sit in the lounge.

Exactly at seven, dinner was ready. You placed everything on the table and yelled that it was done. You took your seat at the end of the table and he walked in and took his place across from you. You two ate in silence, only the sounds of utensils clinking broke it. 

“The roast is good.” Bucky complimented, and you nodded taking a bite of potatoes. 

“Thank you, hun.” You said, with a small smile. 

“Can you pass the salt?” He asked, and you looked at the salt in the middle of the table. 

“It’s in the middle of the table.” 

“Yeah, but can you pass it to me?” 

“It’s in the middle of the table.” You repeated, and he let out a small annoyed sigh before reaching over and grabbing the salt shaker. He sprinkled the salt on his food, you fought back a satisfied smile.

When you two were finished with dinner, he picked up the dishes and took them to the kitchen. He washed the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. He walked into the lounge to see you standing on a chair straightening out the drapes. 

“Be careful, sweets,” Bucky warned, and you stepped down off the chair and looked up. 

“What do you think?” You asked, and he took a sip of his scotch and looked at you confused.

“About what?” He questioned.

“Seriously? We picked out these drapes together.” You stated, and he looked at them and nodded.

“Oh, yeah. I remember.” He lied, and you sighed and rolled your eyes.

“Nevermind. I think I’m going to head upstairs.” You said, and pulled your hair out of its bun and ran your hands through it. “I’m going to get ready for bed.” You stated, and kissed him on the cheek, and walked towards the stairs. Bucky watched you walk upstairs, he sighed and followed. You quickly took a shower and put on a pair of clean panties and one of Bucky’s button-ups. You laid in bed with your book and started reading, as Bucky walked in. 

You subtly watched him as he walked into the bathroom. You heard the shower run and a few minutes later he walked out in a pair of sweatpants, and without a shirt. He laid in the bed next to you and looked at his phone. He set it down after a few minutes and turned off his lamp, but you were still reading your book. 

“Can you-” He started to ask but you cut him off. 

“Five more minutes.” You said and kept reading. He sighed and laid back down. You went to bed that night, thinking about what you’re going to do with your job tomorrow.

[exlibrisfangirl]

Three characters who live in your head rent free and why?

Tagged by @magic-multicolored-miracle 😘

Ah. Well. If you've been following me for more than a week, you should have figured out by now who takes the Number 1 spot at the moment. Say it with me, everybody:

1. Chris Argent

I mean, my hyper-fixated brain has pretty much been a permanent resident of Beacon Hills since my fateful first rewatch of Teen Wolf in October, but this guy in particular lives in my head rent-free. He's perpetually sprawled out on the couch in his pajamas drinking bourbon in front of the fireplace in my mind palace. He's reading books and maps and polishing his guns in the study. (He's not allowed to have them anywhere else in the house. The guns, I mean. We have an agreement.) He's passive-aggressively washing my car and baking me angry cakes (probably because he's peeved at the other residents). I wake up in the morning and come downstairs and there he is making me coffee. I don't even drink coffee.

Anyway.

Why, you ask? Why Mr. Christopher "The Code" "Speak Softly and Carry a Big Gun" Argent, Werewolf Hunter, Weapons Collector, Arms Dealer, President of the Sad Dad Club, DILF Extraordinaire?

Well, first of all, just LOOK at the man...

He's the epitome of my "type", both in terms of physical characteristics and character traits. Blue eyes. Beardy (most of the time). Expressive eyebrows. Excellent nose. Sexy hands. Nice booty. Daddy issues. Layers upon layers of trauma, like an onion (or an angry layer cake... mmm cake). Emotionally constipated. Good with a bow. Wants to protecc. Finds purpose and love in his found family. Epic redemption arc. My Silver Bullet. My human Ferrero Rocher. I love him, I love him, I LOVE HIM.

2. Allan A Dale

Let's be real, this guy is always romping and roving around my mind forest somewhere, and has been since circa 2010. Rent-free, of course, because... well, he's an outlaw. Duh.

Why him? Why Allan "I'm not bein' funny" A Dale? Archer, Rogue, Scoundrel, Very Bad Thief, Spinner of Webs of Lies Stories, Redeemed (sort of... I'm not bitter, what are you talking about) Traitor?

Again, he's exactly my type, in every way. Those blue eyes, that goshdarn goatee, soft spot for kids and dogs, morally grey, heaps of trauma, idiot sibling, daddy issues, finds purpose and love in his found family, yadda yadda yadda. Also, Joe Armstrong's nose is one of my favorite noses of all time.

He's the messy, irresponsible mind-palace roommate who always leaves wet towels on the floor and dirty dishes in the sink and charms his way out of trouble because he's "never had a real, permanent home before, you see, so it's gonna take some getting used to, right?" Chris resents him. Allan thinks Chris has a stick up his arse.

3. Daryl Dixon

Daryl's the new guy (I'm currently watching TWD for the first time), and he's basically a redneck Allan, but less goofy and much, much angrier (and armed with a camo-detailed crossbow instead of a wood longbow or recurve bow).

Why him? Let's see. Blue eyes? Check. Great facial hair? Check. Daddy issues? Check. Problematic sibling (who dies)? Check. Layers upon layers of trauma? Check. Emotionally constipated? Check. Bow hunter? Check. Wants to protecc? Check. Finds purpose and love in his found family? Check. Absolutely melts around children? Check. Redemption arc? Check. (ARE WE SEEING A PATTERN HERE YET, PEOPLE? Gee whiz, it's almost as if I have a TYPE.)

I am nothing if not predictable. *shrugs*

Better with babies than Allan. (I mean, that's a pretty low bar, but still.)

I love my idiot archers.

Chris spends a lot of time shouting at Daryl and Allan to get their dirty, shoed feet off the coffee table and do their damn laundry. They call him a stick in the mud (or, Daryl's case, likely something a tad more colorful). Chris huffs off to his study or bakes yet another angry cake. This one time, Daryl "borrowed" Chris' new crossbow scope and broke it. The aftermath was... not pretty.

Runner-up: Dean Winchester

With all the series finale hoopla, he's been on my mind a lot, especially given how catastrophically the show did him dirty. I haven't watched the final season, and I'm honestly not sure I will ever be able to bring myself to do so.

Honorable Mention: Deke Shaw

Not over the ending AOS gave him, either. Sigh. Why does this always happen to me.

Aaaaanywho. My head is a fascinating place, and these fictional boys are gonna be the death of me, I swear.

Tagging: @seven-oomen, @dreamersscape, @ardricael, @haslemere, @hacash, @oddwriter, @shieldmaidenofsherwood, @jammeke, @angel-in-a-big-blue-box, @mostly-vo1d, @shealynn88, and anyone else who want to do it!

[apennyforyourthought13]

When I was 18 I worked at a restaurant. A small local place that doesn’t exist anymore. I washed dishes until about 9 o’clock at night and then I walked home. My parents never taught me how to drive. One night I was wearing a shirt that simply said “Hug dealer”. When I saw the shirt at Spencer’s a few days before I thought it was perfect. Well this particular night a man came into the restaurant and sat at the bar. As I was leaving that night he was standing out the front door. He looked at me smirked and said “where’s my hug?” I’m not one to freeze under pressure but this was a different feeling. I smiled and said I don’t hug strangers and started walking home. When I was a few buildings away from my workplace I noticed he was headed in the same direction. So instead of taking my usual route (which was safe but not very populated) I took the busiest way home. I was halfway home before he turned around. The worst part is if he had followed me any longer I would have had no choice but turn into my dark, not populated neighborhood.

When I was 19 I had my first serious boyfriend. I wasn’t a virgin but had never slept with someone I genuinely loved and this was first guy I had the opportunity to do so with. But when the moment came and I thought I was ready it felt wrong. I had a few drinks earlier that night and it hadn’t hit me til then. I told him how I felt and that I didn’t want to do anything anymore. He laughed at me and still did it. My parents were in the next room. That was the worst New Year’s I’ve ever experienced.

A few months later I was hanging out with a guy and he was hitting on me and when I told him I was not interested he asked me why. And for the first time I told someone about what happened to me a few months before. And he too laughed and then forced himself on me in his car.

Not even a week later a guy messaged me asking me out and when I said no he went on to harass me and my friends for weeks.

When I was 12 a guy in my band class grabbed my chest multiple times. I told some of my friends and they said it was just a game.

I don’t wear the “Hug Dealer” shirt anymore.

I don’t celebrate New Years anymore.

I hate getting into the backseat of cars.

I quit trying to play instruments.

The thing about this. That man at the restaurant did this so often when I talked to male coworkers about it they weren’t surprised. But they also never said anything to warn the women who worked there or they never said anything to him. When I tell people about the night of New Years and the car men say that I should’ve known better than to be alone with a man after what happened and women say they’ve been through the same thing or similar.

[afy2018]

She Prefers Wine

“There is no way anyone will fall for this, Fee,” Sarah huffed from her foster mother’s couch. “I mean, why can’t I just go?”

“Because we need you to go through the back and Sarah your way into the building. Besides, this is more fun. How does she look?”

Cosima emerged from the kitchen clad in one of Sarah’s leather jackets and a tight bun to mask her dreads. Gone were her pointed glasses with contacts in place so she could still see.

She tugged a bit at the jacket, complaining, “It’s a bit tight across the chest, do you just wear these open all the time?”

“See, I told you,” Felix smirked.

“Shut up,” his sister huffed, getting up to grab her keys. “Come on, let’s go.”

They drove to the function, Sarah tucked in the trunk of Felix’s car while he and Cosima switched between various genres of house and psychedelic music, all of which would most definitely be blared in a local gay bar. She always hated these covert missions, always annoyed to be type-cast as the idiot who breaks in while Cosima was stuck behind a computer or Allison needed to annoy people to death- or bury them in her garage. Being stuck in the trunk while not the more comfortable spot she’d been stuck in- was not the worst place she has had to hide. While reliving her life escaping from Mrs. S as often as she could manage, Sarah flew into the backseats as Felix came to a stop.

“A little softer stop next time, you arse,” she blurted from the trunk.

“This is your stop,” he responded.

“Then why did I have to hide in the trunk?” she asked crawling over the seats and out the backdoor.

“Come on, get into the spirit, agent Manning!” Cosima smiled.

“Well, it worked. I’m ready to slit someone’s throat.”

“Okay, okay, less slitting throats, more grab the money and ID cards then call me when you’re ready.”

“I still don’t know why you couldn’t just come with Cosima a Cosima and drop me off in the back?” Sarah wondered with her head between them.

“Wait, is that all she’s doing? So, I didn’t have to wear this off-brand Hot Topic outfit?” Niehaus asked.

“Watch it,” she warned.

“Let me have fun. Now go, there’s probably someone snooping about here,” he ushered, getting out of the alley to park their car. “Okay, getting into character, Cos, do you remember your signal phrase?”

“North and south- mouth,” she poorly mimicked.

“You’re trying to sound like Sarah, not the Artful Dodger,” Felix huffed. “You need a new phrase.”

“Or I could just not talk?”

“Sarah never shuts her mouth, you need a phrase.”

“Fine, but… I mean people will be drunk right?”

“Probably not that drunk. Try… north and south mouth?” She repeated to his mild satisfaction. “Just stay by my side.”

“Then people would be really suspicious,” Cosima commented in her accent. “This isn’t going to work.”

“It better. Come one.”

Walking to the entrance, Cosima asked, “How did you two get into this situation?”

“It was Sarah’s fault this time.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Fine, but it was mostly her fault. So, you know Vic has some connections-”

“I thought you were all done with Vic?”

“We are, god we are,” he muttered, “They just have some money and personal information on us.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t go in there?”

“They’ll have proof that we didn’t go into the back room.”

“But they’ll know you were in the area?”

“But we didn’t break-in.” Felix pulled out a note and knocked on the door for the bouncer to open. “I’m quite ecstatic to see you here tonight Bobby.”

“It’s been a while since you two have reared your ugly heads,” he nodded, unlocking the note and taking Felix’s banknote. “But you still remembered the password, but not my phone number?”

“Oh, see, I lost it…” he shrugged, slipping past him to follow Cosima inside.

“That’s not a great excuse,” she whispered.

“He wanted a rope bunny triad, what was I supposed to do?”

“Say no thank you?”

“I was just planning on waiting until he broke up with Mel.”

“Oh, now I get it. So, just have fun and pretend to be Sarah until she calls you?”

“That’s the plan!” he smiled, tucking his valuables into his underwear and pulling out some glow in the dark make up. “Now for the finishing touches.”

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“Just adding some color, don’t be such a prude,” he scoffed as he painted her face with intricate designs.

“Fine, as long as it doesn’t include glitter.”

“I agree,” he nodded, putting the makeup back in his jacket. “I’m also glad you said that after I put this stuff on you.”

“Felix?!” she protested on their way in.

“Go have fun, Sarah, socialize and… get something to drink.”

Cosima approached the bar, feeling leering eyes on her while the bartender served his customers. She muttered her signal phrase under her breath, practicing the two she was given.

“I guess they draw in more than just college students,” a clearly familiar voice jibed.

Cosima looked just past her shoulder, catching Delphine curiously trying to read her. She kept up the ruse, the accent coming quite naturally. “We both know you’re not a bloody student, eh Delphine?”

“I guess we all have our secrets, don’t we?” Cormier sensed, cocking her head at her partner’s words. “What are you doing here?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that since you’re not even from the area. How did you hear about it?”

“I hope I’m not blowing your cover,” she whispered, sliding over a bottle of beer, watching Cosima’s reluctant reaction to it before she took a quick swig.

“Look, I’d love to flirt with you, I bet I fit right into your type, huh, but I have more important affairs to deal with.”

Delphine furrowed her brows, smirking at her cheeky demeanor now masked by the darker cockney accent her clone had. She slid her hand across her back, feeling Cosima instinctively lean into her before pulling away, grinning at how easily she broke through her cover. It was quite enthralling, seeing Cosima put on this badass act. It made her want to whisk her away as Niehaus had done with her at the Neolution speech.

Cormier tugged at the lapel of her leather jacket, fixing the durable material and finished, “Fine, I’ll leave you be, just try not to get caught, they may mistake another for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Niehaus stripped off Sarah’s clothes in the backseat, struggling with her pants while her cohorts talked in the front seat.

“You’re sure no one saw you?” Felix asked his sister.

“Not a soul back there. They were having some sort of party in the break room, so I just snuck in. I saw you found a friend in there, Cos,” she directed to her clone.

“Who?” he turned around to ask.

“Delphine.”

“Oh? What was she doing there?”

“I honestly don’t know, should I ask her?”

“No, then she’d know it was you.”

“Okay,” Cosima huffed, pulling out her contact lenses. “Take a left at the next light for a shortcut. How did they even get your shit?”

The siblings glanced at one another for a few moments before Manning pressed, “Fee.”

“I may or may not have promised to be a dealer, but it was when I was eighteen.”

“Really?”

“I was young and bloody stupid,” he reasoned. “Look, here we are, thank you for your help tonight, we can give you a cut for your time.”

“Makeup, Cos,” Sarah reminded, wiping the remaining glitter from her cheeks and forehead.

“Why do I get myself into these situations?” she mumbled on her way. “Good night, guys.”

“You’re a good kid,” Felix noted.

Cosima shook her head in response, the door closing behind her as she jogged up the steps to her studio apartment on the sixth floor. Seeing the light bleeding out from under the door, a slight wave of relief washed over her with the scent of dinner wafting out of the room. She walked in and set her belongings in their popper place- her desk and closet- then went to the kitchenette.

“Do you deep clean your dishes?”

“Deep clean?”

“Yeah? To get the oils and the crasse off,” she casually explained, approaching with a pan. “You still have glitter on your face, Manning.”

[go--ask--alice]

Exordium

It Started With a Kiss

[Author’s Note: The next three posts will be a continuation of a single event. They take place over the course of one night. It’s been broken up into three smaller parts.]

This is Alice and The Joker’s very first encounter. She had devised an intricate plan to sneak into The Grin & Bare It and come face to face with the man she’d been obsessed with for most of her adult life. After entering the club and making her way to a back storage room, she quietly snuck up to the area she knew J’s office resided. Everything almost ended before it began when a guard came upon her near the stairs. Alice played the “lost little girl” card and managed to get away from the guard with just a stern warning. When she finally found the correct door she was shocked to find it partially open. Peaking inside she found him. The Joker, sitting at the private bar, with his back to her. Summoning all her courage, she quietly stepped inside and laid a soft kiss to his pale cheek. Time seemed to stop as she waited for him to react. This was the moment that would ultimately seal her fate. She just didn’t know yet which direction it would lead her.

🃏 Joker

👑 Alice

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

💋

🃏 *Turns to see where the kiss came from with a stern face* To whom do I owe the pleasure of this… little peck?

👑 *Jumps back a bit and extends a hand tentatively.* That would be me Sir.. it’s a pleasure to meet you, sorry for invading your personal space so boldly. I.. well I just couldn’t help myself. *Turns a deep shade of red at being so bold.*

🃏 *Looks around to see if you came with any goons or companions.* So… *snarky tone* is it just you? Or do you have some friends waiting in the wings. *I clutch my cane as I look you up and down curiously*

👑 No.. no Sir. Just me.. is that alright? I hope I’m not getting anyone in trouble by being here? *Turns around to the door.* Well it was open and I knew you’d be in here, I just couldn't resist getting a glimpse of you.

🃏 *I smirk. I love having my ego stroked* And how did you just know I’d be in here? Why are you such a fan of the Clown Prince? I don’t exactly have a traditional fan club. One might think you’re a little… mad. *Walks around you slowly taking you in.*

👑 *I turn my head to follow as you move around me.* Well people talk. I just happen to pay attention to what they say, or sometimes more importantly what they choose not to say. *I stand a little taller.* And I wouldn’t call myself a traditional person. I like to seek out the strange and different. You Mr. J, have both those qualities in abundance. It’s very… appealing. *I give you a wink as you pass infront of me agian.*

🃏 Well aren’t you a brave little chatter box. *Cackles* Flattery will get you everyhere *Pins you to the bar but then reaches behind you for a glass and starts pouring a drink* How rude of me! Can I get you something?

👑 My apologies.. I tend to ramble on when I’m nervous. *My heart rate spikes as you pin me. You’re so very close.* Umm.. a drink? *My brain goes a bit fuzzy.* Something sweet? You pick Sir, dealers choice.

🃏 *So many dangerous concoctions come to mind but I contain my eagerness.* Do you like cherries? *We only have scotch at this bar. I’m the only one who drinks back here. It’s a private space so I decide that if you like cherries I’ll have to throw something sweet together for you using it.*

👑 Oh I love cherry! But please nothing too strong. I’m not much of a drinker.

🃏 How about a “blood and sand”? *I start mixing it in front of you licking my metal teeth* I’ll go easy on the scotch… what was your name?

👑 Hmm interesting, that sounds delicious! *I try to concentrate on watching you mix the drink but my eyes are glued to your mouth, your tongue sneaking out makes my knees go a little weak* Oh goodness! That is so rude of me! *I extended a hand.* Malice, well.. Alice really. But Malice just sounds so much more, I don’t know? Intriguing.

🃏 Well which is it doll face? *Chuckles* Or do you have split personalities? *Licks liquor off fingers and hands you the drink.*

👑 Well it’s really up to you I guess. But Alice is just fine. *I’m staring at your mouth again as I take the glass from your hand, my fingers barely grazing yours.* Looks delicious! *I take a small sip.* And tastes even better. Thank you!

🃏 Up to me? *Chuckles* We just met and I’m already making decisions for you? You want to know what I think? I think you have very, very good manners. And that part is Alice I don’t think I’ve met Malice just yet. *Cackles*

👑 *I raise my glass to you.* That Mr. J, is a very wise observation.

🃏 So… maybe I should call you Miss Manners instead. *Picks up your hand and kisses it.*

👑 That’s sweet, but really Alice is just fine. *A giggle escapes my mouth as you kiss my hand. I hold my breath, not wanting you to let go.*

🃏 Ok Alice it is. You can call me Mr. J if you like. *Snarls as I notice a henchmen walking by.* Excuse me. It’s hard to find good help these days. *Walks over to the henchmen laughing. As he laughs back I stab him in the neck with a pen and watch as he wriggles around spurting blood onto my shirt and pants. I walk back in removing my shirt.* Sorry about that little… interruption. Now where we’re we?

👑 *I nod, mouth hanging open.* Mr. J it is then. *I swallow hard as you growl at the passing henchman. Hoping he’s not the one to blame for me wandering into your private room.* I’m not actually interrupting anything am I?? *I back up til the bar hits my back.*

🃏 Ohhhhhhhh no no no not at all! *I start wringing my shirt out over the sink.* This is going to stain! *Growls* So… Miss Alice. *Removes pants and shoes and walks to a skinny closet removing another shirt and pants.* Tell me a little bit about yourself.

👑 Oh Mr. J you need to get those clothes into cold water if you want any chance of getting those stains out! Me? Hmm what’s there to really say? *Tries desperately not to stare as you undress infront of me.* There isn’t much of any interest about me, especially compared to someone like yourself.

🃏 I find that hard to believe. *Stares at you.* Do you happen to be good with getting stains out? I must say that I try to be careful but sometimes…

👑 Well I’m honestly a bit of a home body. I love to read. I’m good with my hands. *I step up to the sink next to you.* And yeah, you need to soak those is cold water and wash them immediately or they’ll be ruined!

🃏 *Watches you as you approach the sink. My hands start to tremble as the water turns on and you submerge the clothes underneath.* Good with your hands? Please…elaborate.

👑 *I let out an honest laugh.* Well I like to make things. I enjoying cooking, fixing things. I have an eye for detail. Ofcourse there is a whole other list of things I enjoy doing with my hands, but I don’t know if I should be so bold? Atleast not just yet. *I smile up at you.* Have any kind of soap back here?? You need to treat these stains fast or they’ll set.

🃏 *My mind is spinning, you may prove useful if I can trust you. I have been needing a woman’s touch around here although I will never admit it. I have been eating take out every day for the past month. I have been throwing clothing away and holding houses of couture hostage for replacements. Now if you could do laundry that would save me having to hold designers at gunpoint* I think we have something. *Sets dish soap in front of you.* How’s that? *Leans in to watch you work.*

👑 Hmm it’ll have to work.. *I squeeze the soap onto as many of the stains as I can, working it into a good lather.* Alright, you need to let this sit for a little while then it must be washed right away. I still can’t promise the stains will come all the way out. *I can feel you leaning over my shoulder, it makes me break out in goosebumps having you so very close.*

🃏 Are you cold? *I lean in closer* You have goosebumps. *I trail my finger over your arm and smile.*

👑 No.. not at all. I’m actually rather warm. *I can feel the blush creep up my neck. Just feeling your fingers trail over my skin is burning me up.*

🃏 *I turn my head into you slightly as I notice you flush. I can see that I’m having an affect on you and it makes me snarl. I’m like a tiger with prey in my sight.*

👑 *Hearing you snarl behind me is almost more than I can handle. I feel my knees buckle and I push away from the sink to give myself a moment to breathe. I’m practically panting as I try to avoid your piercing gaze.*

🃏 Say! Since you waltzed in here like a curious kitten. How would you like to stay a while? I need someone who can prove useful to me and I don’t know why, but I like you. *Points a finger shaking it like mad and laughing. My laugh becomes a devious cackle.*

👑 *The shock must be written on my face.* You want me? To stay? Mr. J, I don’t know what to say!! *A huge grin spreads across my face, my eyes alight.*

🃏 Well… don’t just stand there woman. *Growls* Make yourself useful. *Turns back and grins.*

👑 *I jump at your command* Umm what would you like me to do sir? I’m afraid I don’t really know my way around here too well. Would you give me a tour? *I put on the puppy eyes for you, hoping it will illicit another touch from you. I’m hopeful but I don’t want to press my luck.*

🃏 *Looks at watch and then back at you.* I’m a bit short on time doll. This will have to be quick. *Grabs your wrist and pulls you into the club.* This is The Grin & Bare It, pretty self explanatory no? *Squeezes your hand a little.*

👑 *Nods, taking in all the lights and sounds. I squeeze your hand back on reflex.*

🃏 *Pulls you roughly into the back office.* This is my office. *I lean on a large heavy wooden desk.* I come here to get a full view of the club. *Points to surveillance cameras.*

👑 *You practically drag me back through the door. I step around the desk to stand next to you, the cameras are all busy with movement.* Wow, that’s a lot of people… how do you manage this whole thing? You don’t do it alone, do you?? *I lean into one of the monitors, transfixed by the dancers swaying to the music.*

🃏 *I decide I’ve got a little more time when you show interest in the operations. My ego is swelling again as you mention the management of the club and the implication that it’s difficult.* You know it’s something I just take pride in. *Leans in to look with you making an insane face.* It’s quite the operation, but I believe that good employees should be rewarded, and I get rid of my bottom 10% monthly. I make sure they get a nice… “severance package” Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!

👑 So, was Mr. Bloodstain in the bottom 10% this month??

🃏 Precisely - you catch on quick Alice! *Grins and points to dancer in a cage* See that? They are a handful, always getting greedy, always developing…. problematic inclinations. But they are a necessary element. They entertain the sort of characters this club attracts. Thoughts?

👑 *I eye the dancers up, I feel a pang of something in my gut. Not jealous, but envy maybe that they are able to catch your eye. Even if it’s fleeting and problematic.* They seem very popular. Definetly a nessacary evil I suppose. So Mr. J when you asked me to stay, did you mean here exclusively? And how much time do you spend on the premises?

🃏 *Stares at you intensely.* Well I don’t want to… hold you against your will. I’d like it if you became key staff, with me. Of course I understand if that doesn’t work for you.

👑 Oh no! You misunderstand me! I want to stay! I was just curious.. *I turn away, knowing I’m turning red again.* I guess I was just wondering how much time I might get to spend well, with you?

🃏 You want to spend time with me? *Grins* Well. That. Is. A. First!

👑 Well silly, you are whole reason I snuck myself back to your private bar. *I catch myself from rolling my eyes at you.*

🃏 Did you just call me… silly??

👑 Just with all those pretty girls out there, I didn’t think you’d want to spend any time with me.

🃏 *Smiles* Well… No one out there has taken blood stains out of my shirt before.

👑 *I blink a few times* Ye-yes Sir I did..

🃏 You are lucky you are so beautiful… you should see that last guy who called me silly. *Cackles and pulls out a switchblade.*

👑 I hope I’m not overstepping any lines with you Mr. J.. *I lean up onto my tiptoes.* But I find you to be incredibly beautiful.. *I give you a small kiss on the cheek.* ..in a very powerful, masculine, dangerous way of course! *I give you a wink.*

🃏 *A fire burns inside me when you kiss my cheek. It’s so hot that I roll my neck back and purr. I grab your hand and pull you to the stairs and down to the garage.*

👑 *As you drag me behind you I blurt out.* Oh god.. I’m so so sorry.. I shouldn’t have done that…

🃏 *Drags you without saying anything, walking with purpose.*

👑 *I almost try to pull away, but you turn and the look in your eyes makes me have to catch my breath, it’s feral and dangerous.*

🃏 This is my car. *Points to purple lamborghi.* Get in. *Still staring at you with my chest heaving.* Don’t make me say it twice.

👑 *I hastily climb into the passenger side and sit. I nervously buckle myself in, still so unsure of your intentions.*

🃏 *I lean over your body and check to make sure you buckled yourself in correctly and then stop to hover over you with my lips inches from yours.*

👑 *I can’t even think straight with your mouth so very close to mine, the urge to lean forward and really kiss you is so strong.*

🃏 *I pull the lap belt tight and grin.* Can’t have you falling out. *And with that I peel out.* We are headed to my humble abode so I can complete the tour you so graciously asked for.

👑 *I giggle* Well aren’t you the full service type! I like that in a man.

🃏 I think we are going to get along Alice…*Looks you up and down as I park then opens your door.*

👑 Oh I sure hope so Mr. J. *I met your hungry stare, positive that you’re seeing the same look on my face.*

🃏 *Takes your hand.*

👑 Such a gentleman..

🃏 *Smirks* Welcome to the hideout!! *Massive mansion.* I trust you have discretion?

👑 Oh of course Sir. For my eyes and ears only!

🃏 Mmmm…. indeed *I pull you up the stairs, walk in and drop my blazer onto a chaise lounge.* Are you hungry? Thirsty?

👑 You seem so very eager to get me alone Mr J. *I follow behind you as quickly as I can, trying not to trip up the large staircase.*

🃏 *Snaps at you.* What are you saying? That I’m a common pervert?

👑 Oh never! *I step very close, looking up at you.* There is nothing common about you.. *I reach out and put a shaking hand on your chest.* And I don’t believe you want me to answer that question sir. What I hunger for may shock you.

🃏 You are quite the flirt my sweet. *Clutches your hand.*

👑 Oh you have no idea my dear.. *I raise our clasped hands and place a kiss on your ring.* So you going to show me more of this extravagant home of yours??

🃏 *Hands shaking as you kiss my ring. I want to devour you.* What would you like to see first doll?

👑 You alright Mr J?? You’re shaking a bit..

🃏 How about the living room?

👑 *I think for a moment.* Honestly? The kitchen! I live for those huge old fashion kitchens. I bet yours has every bell and whistle available!

🃏 *Thinks ‘holy shit I hit the jackpot’ and gets excited. I practically carry you into the kitchen.* I haven’t spent any time in here but I think you might like it? *It has every appliance you can think of. I open the fridge and pull out a pie.*

👑 *I’m practically drooling.. it’s honestly embarrassing.* Do you have a butler’s pantry?? *I’m way to excited.*

🃏 Want a piece? Sure - it’s over there. *Points*

👑 Mm what kind is it??

🃏 Blueberry.

👑 *I’m barely paying you any mind as I enter the pantry.* I could do so much with a kitchen like this. I swear it’s bigger than my first apartment!

🃏 *Has a bit of blueberry on my lip.* Great - consider this part of your domain. Don’t burn anything, I hate the smell of burnt anything. *Makes a sour face.*

👑 *I peek my head back out of the doorway* Blueberry? That sounds delicious! Oh.. Sir you seem to have a bit on your lip. *I run my thumb over your bottom lip before licking it clean.* Yup. Definetly delicious.

🃏 *Flinches at first when you touch my lip.* Let me have another taste. *Grabs your thumb and sucks on it.* That is quite good. Think you might like to bake in here?

👑 *I can barely surpress the moan that threatens to escape my throat* What..? *My brain went foggy feeling your lips on my thumb.* Oh yes baking! Absolutely! I could do so much with this kitchen!

🃏 Here… *Hands you a frilly apron.* You should wear this when you are in here. It’s for show. I don’t cook! *Laughs* Except barbecue, that I can do. *Winks*

👑 Heh! For you? Sure I’ll wear it! *I mumble.* ..and I’d very much like to kiss the cook…

🃏 What was that doll?

👑 Huh? Oh nothing.. *I shake my head* How about the slice of pie? I am pretty hungry.

🃏 *Cuts you a slice and passes it to you, then watches as you eat it.*

👑 Hmm Mr. J… Where do you keep your forks? Hah I don’t want to make a mess, you know blueberries stain just as bad as blood!

🃏 You can make a mess if you want. *Grins* They are over there. *Points to drawer.* Wait don’t open that one. The other one.

👑 Oh really? *I drag my finger through the dark purple filling.*Whose gonna clean up that mess? Huh? *I lick my finger clean, then grab two forks from the drawer* You gonna help me eat this?

🃏 *Grabs a fork and eats right out of the middle. I grab you suddenly and then put you up on the counter. I grab pie and smear it on your shirt.* You should take that off before it stains. *Stares at you.*

👑 *I stare at you, dumbfounded.* Well fair is fair.. I’d hate to see you ruin two shirts tonight. But oh well! *Grabs a handful of pie and swears it across your jaw and down your chest.* Looks like you have to take off yours too! *Pulls my top off revealing a dark purple lace bra.* Your move clown..

🃏 Careful Alice. *Looks down at your bra.* That is my absolute favorite color.

👑 Careful what sir? *I use my discarded shirt to wipe a bit of pie off your nose.*

🃏 Careful calling me names. You can call me Mr. J or something more comfortable once I get to know you better. *Takes off shirt letting it drop to the floor.*

👑 I’m sorry Mr. J. It won’t happen again. *I stare unashamedly at your exposed chest.*

🃏 See something of interest?

👑 Hmm yes sir. You. You look good enough to eat. *I bite my bottom lip as I look down your pale muscular body.*

🃏 *I pull your hand to my body and exhale.* So eat if you’re hungry. *Smirks and starts biting the pad of flesh between your wrist and thumb.*

👑 *I use my other hand to pull you closer to me, your body is flush with the counter between my open thighs.* Sir!! That tickles!! *I try to pull my wrist away, but you’ve got me in a death grip.*

🃏 *I dip down and start nibbling your neck.*

👑 Oh god.. *I wrap my hand in your hair and pull you back til we are face to face agian. Panting, I whisper* Mr. J… please, please kiss me…

🃏 *I chuckle.* So very eager Alice, yet so very very polite.

👑 Oh you have no idea…

🃏 *Grabs you by the back of the neck and kisses you.*

👑 *I melt into your kiss, my body feels like jello as your lips move against mine.*

🃏 *I pull back and put my finger under your chin. I kiss the side of your face and your chin.*

👑 *I’m gasping for air as your lips gently brush my skin.* Oh.. oh Mr. J…

🃏 Take a deep breath Alice. *Chuckles*

👑 *I let out a slow exhale and laugh.* Sorry.. I just can’t help it. You do something to me, I can’t think straight when you’re this close to me.

🃏 *Pours you a glass of water.* Drink.

👑 *Takes a small sip.* Thank you. Again, I’m sorry. I just got a little over excited.

🃏 So…. Tell me, did you put that bra on just for me? *Snaps your bra strap.*

👑 That is a very likely possibility. *I jump as you snap my strap.* And you know Mr. J.. this bra is part of a matching set.

🃏 Show me, I want to see those pretty little purple panties.

👑 Oh my Sir.. that is a bold request. *I push you back slightly and hop down from the counter.* You want me to put on a little show for you?

🃏 *Pulls a chair up sitting in it backwards.* Do it *Heavy breathing*

👑 *I take a deep breath.* What have I gotten myself into.. *I mutter mostly to myself. I run my hands down my chest, pausing to brush my finger tips over my hard nipples, the purple lace not leaving much to the imagination. I slowly pop the button on my tight black jeans, with shaky hands I lower the zipper.* Tell me what you want to see Mr. J.. I need to hear you say it.

🃏 *I growl as I watch you touch yourself.* Put on a show for Daddy J. Let’s see those panties.

👑 *I lean forward, resting my arms on the top of the chair your sitting on, I’m almost nose to nose with you.* You wanna be my Daddy, Mr. J?? *I kiss the tip of your nose.*

🃏 *I use my cane to hold you in place* Little fucking tease… *I’m hard now as you hover over me.* I think you need a daddy, don’t you?

👑 *I pull away and stand back up.* Only if you promise to be my Daddy. I wouldn’t want anyone else. *With very calculated moves I inch the tight jeans down my hips, once they are to about my knees I turn away from you and bend over at the waist. I make sure to give you a nice view of my lace clad behind. I wiggle my hips as I stand back up, kicking the jeans off my feet.* Well now what Mr. J?? You seem to have me at a disadvantage in the clothing department.

🃏 *I stand up and make an effort to look at every single inch of you.* Since you asked so nicely. *Removes pants, socks and shoes throwing them over my shoulder as I stare at you. I’m standing in my emerald green silk Gucci boxers.* Miss Malice… it’s so nice to finally meet you.

👑 Mmm well aren’t we quite the matching set? I’d have guessed that was your favorite color.

🃏 *I’m all over you in an instant inhaling the scent of your hair and skin.*

👑 *I wrap my arms around your slender waist.* Oh god.. you feel so good against my body…

🃏 *I start sucking on your neck softly.*

👑 *My nails dig into the flesh on your hips.* Oh fuck Mr. J.. please.. I need you. *I moan openly as your mouth goes to work at my neck.*

🃏 *I suddenly pull back away from you.* I want to know how many times you have thought about this very moment. With my mouth on you, my body pressed up against you, in your pretty bra and panties *I snarl and grab my erection.* How many times did you touch yourself thinking about it?

👑 I’m almost embarrassed to answer that.. *I giggle at the thought.* I’ve thought about your body on mine for so very long. I’ve even dreamt about it. *I run my fingertips along the edge of my panties.* You like the idea of me touching myself while I think about you??

🃏 *I grab a pair of kitchen sheers and walk toward you. I press my cock onto you looking down as it touches the crotch of your panties and then I look up at you and snip both sides of the panties salivating as they fall away from you.* It’s my favorite idea right now.

👑 *I reach forward and run my hand ever so slightly over the obvious bulge in your boxers.* May I touch you sir?

🃏 *I purr and push forward.* Yes you may. Yes you fucking may.

👑 *I run my palm over your hard cock.* I’ve thought about touching you like this so many times Mr. J But it’s so much better than I could have ever imagined. *With my free hand I run a finger along my wet needy pussy, when I pull my hand up between us it glistens in the light with my juices.* If you would care for a taste sir, *I lean in so very close to your ear.* ..then I suggest you show me some more of this beautiful home of yours. Preferably a room with a bed.

🃏 Teasing me again Alice? *I pull your hand towards my mouth and pop your fingers into my mouth* Mmmmm…. My little baker dangling the icing in front of me? *Scoops you up over my shoulder abruptly and carries you up a long spiral staircase up to the master bedroom.*

👑 Oh Mr. J.. I live to tease you. *As you carry me up the stairs I take the opportunity to get an eye full of your tight muscled ass as I hang upside-down over your shoulder.*

[blog-sliverofjade]

Hearth Fires 17: Savages

Summary:  Lorel Maddox just wants to live as a human, run her bakery in peace, and forget. Unfortunately, the alpha of the local leopard pack has very different ideas.

Remi Denier doesn’t know what to make of the female Changeling who wants nothing to do with him or the RainFire pack. He does know that he has a driving need to protect her. Even if it’s from herself.

While they’re embroiled in a battle of wills, there’s a war brewing on the horizon. The outside threat could not only destroy everything they hold dear, but tear apart the fragile new bonds of the Trinity Accord, plunging the world into bloodshed to rival the Territorial Wars of centuries past.

Word count: 2698

Hearth Fires Masterlist

Content warning: fantasy racism, racial violence, slurs, kidnapping, torture, and murder.  More notes at the end of the chapter.

Beta read by the awe-inspiring @pandabearer​

        Until further notice, anyone with less than junior soldier rank must be accompanied by at least one other able-bodied adult while off pack lands.

       -RainFire daily e-bulletin, three days prior

         Lorel’s stomach filled with cold dread at the sight of the throng of people in front of the bakery.  The mass of bodies parted to let her through, several turned to stare at her, heads swivelling to follow her as she parked.  Murmurs surrounded her as soon as she got out of the car, too low for human ears, but she could still hear clearly.

       “I heard she’s dealing drugs out the back…”

       “Probably pissed off a customer, or her dealer…”

       “…can’t be sanitary to let animals work with food…”

       The wall of scents and sounds pressed palpably in on her.  Cold sweat prickled her scalp.  The walk through the crowd seemed to take an eternity, like the nightmares when she was back in school and called up to the board in front of the class, only she was naked, the distance stretching further and further with each step. 

        Her cat prowled, tail lashing back and forth; it was agitated and ready to hunt, and, lacking an obvious enemy, regarded the gawkers with suspicion.

        Chloe stood silently by the front, allowing Lorel time to process what she was seeing.  Glittering glass crunched underfoot as she walked through what had once been the door; the windows were shattered, as were the display cases.  The antique hutch she’d lovingly refinished and used to display packages of cookies, candies, and other shelf-stable goodies lay face down on the floor in several pieces.

        Waves of hot and cold washed over her.  Crimson spray paint splashed the words “GET OUT” and “HUMANS 1ST” across one wall.  An inappropriate part of her wanted to giggle hysterically at the ambiguity of “FUCK ANIMALS” carved into the ashwood counter she loved. 

        Shelf-stable stock was scattered everywhere, some missing a single bite before being tossed on the floor to mix with the glass and other detritus, then covered with urine.  Frosting painted the walls with colourful streaks.  As she continued to the kitchen, she touched the battered counter, holes punched into the drywall, the remains of a table to confirm what she saw was real.

        The sleek, new equipment she’d been so proud of lay like battered corpses on the kitchen floor, computronics ripped out like entrails.  Flour and sugar-coated everything like a dusting of ash, cocoa mixed with it like fine charcoal.  It was appropriate since her life had effectively burned down around her ears.  Lorel sank to the floor, barely sparing a thought to choose a space relatively free of debris, and stared at a mound of what had been passionfruit mousse.

        Chloe crouched next to her and said something.  She managed to respond, but the words soon dissipated like fog in the morning sun.  Time sped up again, coming in fits and bursts.  She remembered speaking with Enforcement but retained nothing of what was said.

       She found herself standing in the kitchen again.  Or had she merely imagined the police interview and hadn’t moved?  A hand settled slowly on her shoulder and she scented Chloe.

        “Here.”  A cool bottle pressed into her hands.  “Drink.”  The cold water was delicious, and she quickly drained half of it, only stopping to gulp in air.  “Better?”

       She nodded and looked around, blinking.  Yep, the place was still trashed.  It wasn’t a horrible dream.  “I need to call the insurance company,” she muttered and headed towards her office.  The computronics in there were damaged too, but the overall damage was less, and she could close the door to shut out the worst of it.

        “I’ll start cleaning up,” said Chloe, heading for the cleaning supplies.

        “No, you need to look after your own shop.”  It came out a mumble because she lacked the energy to raise her voice to a normal speaking volume.

        Turning back to her, Chloe’s jaw firmed in the way it did when she was digging her heels in.  Too tired to fight, Lorel shut herself in the office to make the necessary phone calls and left her friend to do as she would.

        When she emerged some time later, she found Chloe had conscripted several of the looky-lous into cleaning up.  The floors were swept free of glass shards and the debris was piled into two stacks: one of what looked like salvageable pieces and one that looked like scrap.

        A man was on the sidewalk taking a rubber mallet to a bent chair leg, pausing occasionally to apparently discuss structural integrity with a woman in coveralls looking over his shoulder.  Inside, a couple of people she recognized as customers, but didn’t know, were scrubbing the walls.  Plywood, presumably for boarding up the broken windows, was stacked in a corner.

        Chloe and her husband, Buck, were behind the counter and looked up when she stopped to take in the changes.  The storm of emotions she held inside felt like she was being torn in five different directions.

        "This isn't very deep," Chloe tapped the scarred counter with a lilac lacquered nail.  "It should sand out."

        “And I have a half-can of paint kicking around that’s near ‘bout this colour.  That and a bit of primer should cover that up pretty good.”  He handed over a minty-blue paint chip and pointed to the graffiti. The colour would blend in well with the whitewashed walls and ashwood detailing; thankfully, those elements were left more or less intact.  “Won’t be ‘nough to do the whole place but could do one of them whatchamacallits.”

        “Accent wall,” Chloe supplied and tucked herself against her husband’s bigger body; he raised his arm for her to duck under and held her to him.  The casual affection was almost without thought and developed over years of growing into their love.

        Her colourful friend and her flannel-clad husband seemed like total opposites, but they fit.  Their adoration for each other was present in small touches, the woollen hats, gloves, and socks she made for him, the way he made sure she remembered to eat.  Chloe would get caught up in a project and lose track of time, forgetting to feed her body anything other than tea. 

        Lorel wondered what it would be like to know someone that completely.  Ever since she met the couple, a secret desire had grown in her, stunted and broken parts of her stretching to aching, painful life.  She dreamt of something she never thought she could have: a home filled with the love that she had never known. 

         Remi waited until he had all five miscreants back on pack territory and some distance away from the Glade, the main clustering of aeries, before tearing into them.  Not all of them were dominants, which meant he had to hold back some of his ire.  As word of the horrific attacks spread, the non-dominants stuck closer to home more and more.  While that made it easier to protect them, they were still cats who needed their freedom.

        That didn’t mean that they weren’t stuck with the worst shifts he could come up with: scrubbing bathrooms for the juveniles and dish duty (a chore usually reserved for juveniles) for the submissive. The soldiers, a couple of junior rank, were on the farthest, most isolated perimeter watch.

        “I put the pack on lockdown, and they go and lose their goddamn minds over some humans running their mouths at the bar?” growled Remi.  He’d called up Lucas once he was back in his own aerie and could be as snarly as he wanted without making submissives flinch or cubs ask him why he had “angry alpha face.”  “Another changeling’s gone missing, a solitary snake outside of Gatlinburg.”

        Lucas’ response turned the air blue.  “Do you want to borrow a couple of my people?”

        The offer was a mark of the level of trust the DarkRiver alpha had in him.  The practice wasn’t unheard of, yet neither was it casually done.  Remi forced himself to be logical and think it through rather than rejecting it out of a knee-jerk reaction to appear the ever-capable, always-powerful alpha.

        “We just hammered out an alliance with StormWillow so we have more resources now,” he shook his head.  Bringing in outsiders might seed distrust in their new allies.  “Though I might take you up on that if we’re still running into dead-ends.”

        Scrubbing a hand over his face, he sank back onto his cushion and told him about Lorelei.

        “I can’t have a submissive mate.”  Many alphas had mates, or long-term partners, but none of the ones he knew of were building their own packs.  And sometimes alphas outlived their mates.  It was rare, but when it happened, it broke something fundamental in them.  He’d watched his father grow colder and harder, as if everything warm and good in the man had died along with his mate. 

        “I’m mated to Sascha,” Lucas reminded him.  While empaths weren’t necessarily submissive, neither were they typically dominant, closer to healers when it came to the hierarchy.  Dominants felt protective towards them and when it came to health and safety, they could even overrule the alpha without coming across as a challenge.

        “That’s different, she’s a cardinal.”

        “Not a martial one.  Disciplining Naya ties her up in knots,” he shook his head in fond amusement at his soft-hearted mate.  “She’ll cut you up like she’s torn your heart out to keep as a trophy, but she’ll also make you feel whole until you wonder why you’d never realized part of you was missing.  She’ll make you stronger.”

        “What if I hurt her?”

        “Submissives aren’t as fragile as we dominants like to think,” grinned Lucas, misunderstanding Remi’s concern for physical harm instead of emotional damage.  Then, after looking at someone off-screen, “Hold on a second,” and the screen went dark.

        Remi couldn’t speak of what he truly feared.  It had already taken everything in him to admit that not only were things getting worse but that he’d found his mate.  He couldn’t expose any more vulnerabilities, not even to a friend. 

        How the fuck was he going to court her?  Being of their animal selves, the mating bond didn’t require love to come into being and she could always reject him.  It was up to him to get her to trust him that deeply to accept the bond.

        If only she didn’t react to him like the most feral alley cat; it was a good thing he liked her wild.  It meant she could hold her own against him as long as he didn’t pull rank, which he certainly had no intention of doing without damn good reason.  His dominance level was magnitudes greater than hers.  Bullying someone so far down the hierarchy wasn’t who he was, wasn’t what any alpha worth their salt was.

        And yet he was driven to distraction knowing she was alone and unprotected.  It would be easy for someone to take advantage of her touch hunger and his claws threatened to slice out.  The leopard inside his skin clawed at him, certain that she was in danger every minute she wasn’t in his sight; it wouldn’t rest until she was in its lair.

        The man knew it wasn’t as easy as that, the bond would require more of him than simply protecting her.  How could he be vulnerable to her and be the alpha RainFire needed?  Was he even capable of the kind of vulnerability that the mating bond demanded, of the bone-deep love?  The shortcut around her walls would make it so easy to hurt her on the deepest level, in a way that neither of them would ever recover.

        “The DNA you sent over?” Lucas said, coming back on the line.  “There’s a match.  I’m sending you the details now.”

        Remi bared his teeth in a feral grin.  This was exactly what he needed to purge the fire in his blood. 

        “Good hunting, mon frère.”

        A mere handful of hours later, the RainFire alpha stood over Joseph Christian in a cabin on a remote section of pack territory.  None of his people would be forced to see the uglier side of what it meant to protect; not like he’d been forced to watch “discipline” meted out as a cub.

        “Tell me why you did it.”  A quiet, almost gentle tone.  Only the will born of years of struggling with his anger, burning deep within him like a subterranean river of lava, managed to keep him from tearing into the man.

        The human was as undistinctive as the tract housing Theo and Elijah had found him in; with his nondescript brown hair, flat blue eyes, average height and weight, he would blend into nearly any crowd in the area.  It was a stark reminder that evil didn’t always show on the surface, sometimes it hid behind familiar faces.

        “Please don’t kill me,” he begged, snot oozing into his goatee.  Remi wondered if he’d grown the facial hair to individualize his otherwise bland features.

        “Why not?  You could easily have killed them, and one of them was human, not changeling.”  His tone was a velvet-wrapped blade.

        “You-you and the psy treat us like trash.  You think you’re above the law like what you’re doing right now!”  Christian looked around with wide eyes to indicate his surroundings.  “You savages only understand violence!”

        The ripples of recent upheavals in the psy-net affected the other two races.  Humans were treated as worker bees by the telepathic race- and, to a lesser extent, by the shapeshifter race.  While the psy restructured their society, it affected humans financially.  On top of a century of abuse and exploitation at their hands, some humans became radicalized in the wake of global change.

        “The law gives us the right to meet violence with violence,” growled Remi. 

        Christian’s face went even paler.

        “Lemme get this straight, you’re enjoying a night out, relaxing over a couple of beers, but you want to end it on a real banger, so you get a baseball bat and put two men in the fucking hospital?  A shit-for-brains like you couldn’t come up with any other fucking ideas?” Elijah said.

        “I don’t think he’s smart enough to even think of that on his own,” Remi drawled.

        “There-there was a-a-a video!  Someone shared it in a forum.”

        “What video?”

        “Uh, it’s on my phone.”

        Remi nodded to Elijah, who handed the cell to the human.  They hadn’t tied him up; the day Remi needed to restrain one human to maintain control of a situation was the day he stepped down as alpha.

        Christian kept one eye on the device and the other on the predators who watched him in turn.  In short order, he placed it on the small table to show the video playing on the device, which Remi took, leaving Elijah to keep an eye on the fonchock.

        On the screen, a changeling was chained hand and foot with reinforced metal cuffs to a wall, a strip of duct tape over his mouth.  Three men wearing non-descript black clothing and balaclavas stepped forward.  One of them pressed something to the victim, apparently a taser because he spasmed, hitting his head hard against the cement wall.  Remi’s claws sliced out. 

        That was when they went to work.

        Each scream was a knife to his gut, but he would not look away, not when there might be clues that could be used to hunt the killers.  And there was no doubt in Remi’s mind that the changeling would not be walking away at the end of the video.  A human would have died, but the victim was obviously a dominant predator to withstand the torture, bits of his body hanging in ways that no limb ever should, and entire portions of soft tissue gouged out.

        When the show came to its gruesome end, Remi noted the forum for investigation later and tucked the phone into a pocket.

        “Us ‘savages’,” his lips peeled back to display his teeth in distaste at the slur, “will at least make sure you make it to a hospital instead of leaving you to bleed out on a sidewalk.”

 Mon frère - my brother Fonchock - dumbass

Again, I drew on real-world instances and in order to alleviate how problematic fantasy racism can be, here's my rough bibliography:

Black business owners often face prejudice like the association of Black people and drugs and crime. The rumours at the start of the chapter I took from an interview of a young Black woman who was recently attacked and the cops assumed she was buying drugs.

The comment about "animals working with food" is the combination of the misconception that the natural hair of Black people is "unclean" and dehumanizing Blacks, Indigenous people, and people of colour (another reason why fantasy racism is problematic).

The graffiti is based on instances of Islamophobic and anti-Black graffiti throughout North America.

Joseph Christian is taken from the name Jeremy Joseph Christian, the known white supremacist who in 2017 stabbed 3 men, killing 2, who intervened when he harrassed 2 Muslim women on the Portland metro. My spouse knew one of the victims.

The ideology he spouts is largely from The Proud Boys and other Islamophobic trash. Reading up on that trash made my brain go blue screen of death at the "logic," such as rampant grammatical and spelling errors and then turning around and telling women that we're dumb, especially when it comes to writing. So if it seems a little incoherent, well, look at the source material.

"Savages" has historically been used as a slur against Indigenous people and justification for colonialism. (Fun fact: the Proud Boys patent response to criticism of colonialism is "you're welcome!" because they believe in "civilizing" the rest of the world 🤮) I have issues with what I read as Singh's coding changelings as Indigenous (this ties back into why fantasy racism is problematic), so I did not use this word lightly. I want readers to think about why Black, Indigenous, and people of colour are often characterized as being inherently violent whenever they perform any type of demonstration (the comments will not be a platform for debating acceptable forms of resistance). If any Indigenous reader objects to this usage, please call me out on it and I will try to come up with another term.

And on a completely random note, I've had Savages by Snotty Nose Rez Kids stuck in my head while editing. If you like hip hop, check it out.

[southeastchemicals]

Want to get the dishes done Faster? Use the following hacks

Are you looking for faster ways to get the dishes done? Use these hacks by the best dish wash bar dealers and suppliers.

Looking for faster ways to get the dishes done? 

Let me guess, you love to cook delicious platters but hate to see a massive pile of dishes waiting to get done? Don’t worry, you are not alone. Dishwashing is the least favorite kitchen chore for everyone. We are all looking for better and quicker ways to get the dishes clean.

Here it is! The best dish wash bar dealers and suppliers bring you a list of easy and quick hacks to breeze through your piles of dishes in no time. 

 Wash your dishes faster and better with the following four hacks 

 1. Use Hot Water - Hot water helps dissolve dried-up food particles in your dishes. The hotter the water, the quicker the dishes will get clean. As hot water evaporates fast, it also quickens the drying time for your dishes 

2. Upgrade Your Washing Tool - Dish wash bar dealers and suppliers suggest buying a dedicated washing tool for cleaning your dishes. For example, scrub pads and steel scrubbers are available in the market, dedicated to removing tough gunk like dried up or burnt food particles, grease, and oil. 

3. Use Salt to Save Time - Salt is excellent for removing grease. It is a natural absorbent and is abrasive in nature without being harsh on the dishes. No need to train your triceps by repeated scrubbing. Rub a slight amount of salt on greasy dishes or kitchen tools, and quickly wash those adamant stains away. 

4. For Dairy and Starch, Use Cold Water - If any of your food contains dairy or starch, use cold water. Hot water does not help much in this regard. Dairy and starch foods are sticky in nature and will only get gummier when exposed to hot water, says the best dish wash bar dealers and suppliers.

[gwaciechang]

Love Run (5/10?)

“And he holds her close just to keep the world at bay”

We’re officially halfway and they haven’t even technically kissed yet. This was supposed to be soft fucking. What. The. Fuck. Happened. To. My. Life.

At this point I don’t think there are any more spoiler warnings for Stan Lee’s Lucky Man, because we’ve deviated too much from the plot. So, just standard trigger warnings for Bobby Hayes’ general life. And also for a traumatic flashback nightmare.

“Thank you,” you whisper against Bobby's shoulder. You feel him nod, and you wish you could see his expression, but you want to keep your head here. Besides, his face would probably break your heart more, since it usually does.

He pulls away suddenly, and you try not to miss the feeling of his arms around you. “I’m going to clean these up,” you say, taking your empty plates to give yourself something to do. “The saran wrap is on top of the microwave. Cover the leftover noodles with them. But don’t put them in the fridge, I’ll do that.” You don’t want him getting upset with your fridge more than necessary.

You put the used dishes in the dishwasher and the pots in the sink, and Bobby starts to clean them without asking.

“So, how did you like the noodles?” you ask, standing as close as you dare.

“They’re good,” he says without emotion. “They’re your favorite?”

“Yeah,” you laugh at the memory. “It’s the first meal my brother made, and when I was recovering, it was one of the only things I could keep down. Probably because my mom used to make it when I was sick. I don’t know what came first, actually, me liking it or people making it for me when I feel sad.”

“Do people make it for you a lot?”

You shake your head. “It’s hard to tell someone how to make it. There’s no actual measurement in a lot of Chinese cooking. You just do what feels right. No two dishes are the same.”

Bobby grimaces and resumes scrubbing the pieces of burnt meat and garlic. You try not to take his displeasure personally. He’s probably not used to things not being exact and measurable.

“So, I’m going to brush my teeth and go to bed, unless you need anything?” you say when you’re finished with the three pots you used for the noodles.

Bobby shakes his head, on his fifth scrub of his pot. There’s no reason you can think of to stand so close to him now, so you take a paper towel to dry your hands.

“Good night, um, stay awake tight, and don’t let the bad guys in? Never mind, this wasn’t funny,” you head to the bathroom.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he says, suddenly standing up straight. You can’t help but notice that he’s actually quite tall and broad.

“Thank you,” you hope you’re not grinning too widely. “I hope you know the feeling’s mutual.”

“I do,” his voice is insistent. “I saw it.”

And you’re too tired to deal with these feelings, so you go to bed. It still feels too big and empty, and you wish he were here, but before you close your eyes and drift off, you wonder which ‘he’ you’re referring to.

When you wake up the next morning, it’s to the smell of coffee and eggs. David must be home early, and you're so giddy with excitement that you leap out of bed.

“David! I didn’t hear you come-”

Bobby stands frozen next to the stove, a plate of scrambled eggs on each hand.

“Shit, right, I forgot,” you rub your eyes.

“It’s fine," Bobby’s smile is forced, and you would rather stab your eyes out than see it again. “I made breakfast,” he keeps his eyes firmly on his plates as he sets the table.

“Yeah, I could smell it from,” you gesture to your room. He's unhappy.

You stare at the eggs and think about how to word it without wounding his nearly-nonexistent self-loathing further. “I bought this apartment with my ex,” you say. Great, failed step one.

“David?” Bobby rubs at his chest. You wonder if his injuries are bothering him, and you figure you might as well go all in. “Yes. He was my dealer.”

His openmouthed gaze would be funny in any other context.

“I got better, he didn’t, and sometimes I feel like I failed him. I know that’s ridiculous, and I can’t stop anyone from making their choices. I just wish I knew how to mute that voice in the back of my head that says he’s my responsibility and I failed him.”

“Is that why you invited me to stay with you?” Bobby's voice is high. “So you could do it right?”

You shake your head. “I think I recognized the same quality in you,” you’re not sure how to say this in words. “When I'm scared, or I feel helpless, it’s easier to take care of someone else, because I still haven’t figured out how to mute that voice in the back of my head that says I don’t deserve to be taken care of, so taking care of someone else is the only way to give me a sense of accomplishment that I did something worthwhile.”

Bobby stands up and walks to your bedroom. Great, what the fuck did you say this time?

He comes back before you have time to devolve further than that, holding his bag of heroin in his hand before pressing it into yours.

“I know you don’t like how it smells,” he says apologetically, “but I want you to have control over this. I trust you to make the best decision for me.”

“Bobby, can I give you a hug?” your voice is so shaky, it’s a wonder he hears you at all.

And you find yourself pressed to that wonderful chest again.

Pretty soon, it’s time to go to work for the first time in nearly a week, because while your boss is understanding, a whole week is a long time to be suddenly short staffed when you’re not even injured.

But you’re still worried, because Bobby’s going to be all by himself at the apartment all alone, so you make sure he knows exactly how to reach you if something bad goes down, a list of emergency contacts, where the emergency exit is and how to get down into the downstairs balcony through yours if he has to make a fast getaway.

He has to calm you down when you’re about to cry, and it's the fact that he’s singing a pop song while he taps his fingers against your cheek that snaps you out of it.

“Sorry, I just really, really don’t want to leave you alone,” you sniff.

“I’m sorry I can’t go to the bar,” he bows his head.

“Don’t be,” you tell him. “It’s not your fault they’re so crowded and noisy.”

“I’ll come pick you up,” he takes both your hands in one of his. “I-I’ll take the bus, and I’ll walk you to the stop and wait with you so we can take the bus back together.”

It occurs to you that Bobby is just as nervous about letting you out of his sight as you are, if not more.

“I’ll be okay. My coworker’s giving me a ride until the street gets fixed. Besides, you've seen me defend myself. I can be pretty scrappy.” As a child, you got into a lot of fights. Angry violence was your default response to a lot of things back then. Apparently, it still was. You wipe your hands on your pants even though you know there’s no brain matter on them.

“Get a nice rest, okay?” you put one hand over his and squeeze before letting go. “I’ll see you in eight hours. Don’t stand by the window watching me leave.”

But of course, you see him still at the window, watching you, when Cassie comes to pick you up.

“So, you want to tell me why you’re smiling like a total moron despite having killed a man less than a week ago?” Cassie teases.

You turn your smile into a frown as you give her shoulder a fake punch.

You're a little surprised at how smoothly work goes. You don’t have a panic attack thinking about the smell of brain fluid, you don’t even feel stressed when the complaints start coming in that you’re going too slowly thanks to your shoulder. Not that the complaints are taken seriously, Cassie even snaps at some of the patrons when they tell you to hurry up. The shift goes by in a flash, and you’re in good spirits when you get back to your apartment.

As expected, Bobby is asleep. His face is soft and boyish, like every single wall he built to keep out the world that hurts him was torn down. You can’t resist tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, and his head chases your hand for a little while before he settles down. There's a line between his eyes now, so what choice do you have but to put your hand back and lie down?

You notice the smell of laundry detergent. Of course, Bobby would wash your sheets before he slept in them. You’re a little embarrassed at how long it's been since you did. Living with a someone so neat was definitely going to shame you into developing better cleaning habits, if you two didn’t kill each other with control freak tendencies first.

You don’t think about this long. The room is filled with his soft breathing, which soon becomes your soft breathing, which soon becomes silence. Which soon becomes the sound of metal crushing skull, and you wake up screaming.

When you wake up in the morning, it's because the smoke alarm went off and definitely not because you want to throw up. You yank the blankets off, too scared to even shiver in the sudden cold, and run into the hallway just in time to see Bobby cursing and dumping something into the trashcan.

“What the fuck?” you see him flinch, and you know your tone’s too harsh, but the nightmares are far too real, the adrenaline’s ebbing, and you just cannot deal with any more stress right now.

“I’m sorry,” he swallows. “I wanted to make you breakfast again to make up for throwing up on your bed, but you don’t have a toaster, so I tried to make it in the microwave, but all the buttons are in Chinese and you have a different brand of margarine than I use.”

“That’s because I use actual butter, fucking christ!” you stomp over to the microwave, grab a paper towel, and yank out the grill that’s covered in melted bread to toss it in the sink. Except it’s not a paper towel, it’s your only apron, and now it’s got a big burn on it.

“Goddammit!” you toss the apron on the floor, and it lands in a gray smear of brain matter that can’t possibly be there. You move to cover your eyes so you don't see it, but there are suddenly hands clenched tightly around your wrists, forcing them apart.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you demand. Your heart beats faster. This is wrong.

“I-I thought you were going to scratch yourself”" he says, voice plainly terrified.

Your voice is ice cold, “If I scratch myself, Bobby, that is none of your fucking business. You’re not here to take care of me, you;re here because you couldn’t cut it making a living on your own. You’re so-”

You both vomit in unison. At least it stops you from speaking. You recover fairly quickly, but as the physical nausea recedes, a new form takes its place.

“Bobby,” you reach for his shoulder, but he flinches back, so you put your hands in front of him where he can see them. You have to move them again rather fast, because he doesn’t stop, not even when his stomach is empty and all that's coming up is bile.

This close, you can see the sweat stains on his pajamas, and you put one and one together to realize he's still detoxing.

You wipe your mouth and pop in some gum before sliding an arm across Bobby’s trembling body to help him off the floor. “Okay, I can’t pick you up, so you're going to have to walk to the bathroom under your own power, but you can lean on me, and I’ll draw you a bath, okay?”

“Don’t need,” he says between gagging fits. “I need a hit, please. I know you have it somewhere.”

“You trusted me to do what’s best for you, remember? So I'm going to do that.”

“You hate me,” Bobby’s voice and eyes are filled with tears. “Everyone hates me, so why not just let me die?”

“Fuck,” you wonder if you’ve ever hated yourself this much. Maybe when you first woke up and realized you’d made yourself incontinent with your drug use. “I don’t hate you,” is all you can say.

“I make your life harder. I made you keep my drugs while you’re recovering. I ruined your refrigerator-”

“Fuck my refrigerator, okay?” you lower Bobby to the floor and start to fill the tub with hot water. “And nothing I said was meant for you. I just had a nightmare and I took it out on you, that’s unfair of me.”

His face crumples further. “You have nightmares because of me.”

“I have nightmares because a man tried to kill me and didn’t stop until I killed him first!” you snap. Bobby flinches, so you soften your tone.

“I’ve never cooked with anyone before,” you admit. You try to keep your hands in sight, so he knows while he probably can’t control himself that you’re not touching him anymore. “And I don’t think anyone’s ever sang to me before. Bobby, you make my life better. You make me better, and I’ve only known you for three waking days.”

There, the water’s warm enough now. “Come on, you have to get in and cool off.”

He clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut, but he lets you remove his sodden shirt and jeans. You realize he’s soiled himself at some point, so you have to remove the rest of his clothing. You only leave him alone for one second to toss his soiled undergarments in the garbage and wash your hands, but when you come back, there are tears glimmering down his cheeks.

“I’m here, I’m here,” you grab your bodywash and a sponge, then squat next to him. He shivers, even though the water’s hot, when you touch him. The tears don’t fall any less often, and you put your apologies into your work.

He’s half asleep when you’re finally finished, so you simply wipe him down and tuck him in the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and you’re not sure which is worse, that he’s still apologizing to you despite your awful words, or that he apologizes in his dreams.

You don’t think you've ever been so simultaneously relieved and regretful to go to work. It seems everyone can tell you’re distracted, and finally Cassie drives you back home an hour early.

He’s still asleep when you get back, for which you’re both grateful and terrified. The cherries taste like ash in your mouth, but they're a fast source of calories so you can get to bed as soon as possible and lie awkwardly and stiffly so that no part of you is touching him.

You’re just starting to drift off when he wakes up. He notes that you put him in a ratty pair of pajamas, and he turns so red that you can see it in the dim light.

“You have to really love me to do this,” he says in awe, echoing your own words back to you.

“You weren’t screaming about how much you hated me. I was doing that,” there’s so much self-loathing in your voice that you almost expect something to drip off your tongue.

Bobby makes a deeply wounded noise and curls toward you. You wrap your arms around him.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, now that he’s awake enough to hear. You would need to apologize every day for a year to fully express how sorry you are.

“I’m sorry,” he starts to withdraw, and you instinctively hold him tighter. He practically burrows into you at the contact, and you realize that he wasn’t pulling away because he didn’t want to be touched, but because he thinks he doesn’t deserve to be touched. So you touch him everywhere you can reach, running your hand from the top of his head all the way down his back where the ridges of his spine stick out to much, nuzzling the junction between where his collarbone is too prominent, and cupping your palm on his bony cheeks.

This time, when you wake up from the nightmares, he kisses you on the forehead and soothes you back to sleep with his hands in your hair.

[fireloom]

50 Questions You’ve Never Been Asked

I was tagged by @thatsjustsocliche

1. What is the colour of your hairbrush? There’s like 7 hairbrushes in my house, so multicoloured.

2. Name a food you never eat? Asparagus. If you ever give me that wiggly green thing I will smack you.

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold? I swing from being too hot to too cold, there s no inbetween

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Attempting to animate! (it didn’t work out)

5. What is your favourite candy bar? Twix

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports event? Does my own Gymnastics championships’ count?

7. What is the last thing you said out loud?  ”How the fuck am I suppose to remember that?!” That's it, that’s what I just said when I read this.

8. What is your favourite ice cream? Mint choc chip, love that shit

9. What was the last thing you had to drink? Coffee. The answer will always be coffee

10. Do you like your wallet? I guess? It holds my money.

11. What was the last thing you ate? Cookies dipped in coffee

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? I haven't brought clothes in months (even before the quarantine)

13. The last sporting event you watched? Like on tv? The Australian Open (tennis).

14. What is your favourite flavour of popcorn? Caramel

15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to? An actual sms text message? My ex, cause I had a sim card back then.

16. Ever go camping? I was born in the forest, so I basically camped my entire childhood. I am a wood nymph.

17. Do you take vitamins? When I remember (hardly ever)

18. Do you go to church every Sunday? Buddy, I’ve been inside a church maybe, MAYBE twice in my entire life.

19. Do you have a tan? Right now, no.

20. Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? DON’T MAKE ME CHOOSE

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw? Who buys straws?

22. What colour socks do you usually wear? Mismatched and with a few holes.

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit? I don’t have a license but when I was illegally driving across the country I was overtaking roadtrains at 150Kmh. So, yeah, a little.

24. What terrifies you? People throwing balls at me. I involuntarily shriek like a child whenever a ball comes near me.

25. Look to your left, what do you see? My tv.

26. What chore do you hate? Washing dishes. I like washing dishes but it fucks up my back like nothing else, and I get flashbacks to an overcrowded cafe, me in the backroom, frantically washing spoons cause we done run out, right before I’m called out to the house by a bell like a doggo just so I can bring more dirty dishes back to the overfull sink and make small talk with vegans. Good times.

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? Oh fuck me, another one

28. hat’s your favourite soda?  Creaming soda

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? Dude, I get my groceries delivered ain’t no way I’m going outside for drive-through.

30. Who’s the last person you talked to? My mummy

31. Favourite cut of beef? Ahhh…. the beef cut?

32. Last song you listened to? Meg Myers - Desire (Hucci Remix)

33. Last book you read? Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett.

34. Favourite day of the week? Tomorrow.

35. Can you say the alphabet backwards? I guess?

36. How do you like your coffee? Usually with sugar and milk, mocha for a treat.

37. Favourite pair of shoes? My Doc Martins 

38. The time you normally go to bed? These days? 5-6am.

39. The time you normally get up? 12pm

40. What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? Sunset, cause I’m never awake for sunrises.

41. How many blankets on your bed? One and even that’s too much.

42. Describe your kitchen plates: Not many, boring.

43. Do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage? I Vodka shots, chased by more vodka

44. Do you play cards? I love cards

45. What colour is your car?   Don’t have a car

46. Can you change a tire? Yeah if you gave me enough time.

47. Your favourite province? Idfk XD

48. Favourite job you’ve ever had? My first job. I worked manning the counter at a hippy-dippy 60’s/ 70’s memorabilia shop. My boss was this silver haired hippy drug dealer. I was high everyday, gave the wrong change more often than not, and spent my working hours picking aesthetic music, drawing, and pretending to be in a movie. I was paid in weed. Best job ever.

49. How did you get your biggest scar? Dog walking.

50. What did you do today that made someone else happy? Hanging with my bud online.

[parabellum-rpg-archive]

Congratulations, Joss! You’ve been accepted to play Aaron Murphy (previously Aaron Khan, last name changed to fit the new FC’s ethnicity). Your request to change his FC to Bob Morley has also been approved. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

Admin note: Joss, you’re absolutely flawless. You make it very easy to fall in love with your writing, and you’ve given Aaron so much depth! I can’t wait to see him on the dash! - Admin V

IC INFORMATION —

CHARACTER DESIRED Aaron Khan DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS If you told Aaron to turn out his pockets and show what he’s accomplished in life, you might see it as just empty hands, but to him, being a dealer is the only thing he’s ever been really good at. He’s got learning disabilities, dyslexia and ADHD, that prevented him from ever really settling into a normal life or doing well in school, but when it comes to weed, he’s a fucking prodigy. He can tell the weight of a bag just by looking at it or holding it, he can tell from the smell if product is good or not, and he knows how to spot an undercover cop at 100 yards. His greatest skill is in being able to read his customers. He can tell from the moment you approach him what strain you’re going to need, how much, and what you’re willing to pay. He’s friendly, never tries to force you to be his friend, and always stands by his product. If weed were legal, he might be paying taxes and living the good life at a cannabis dispensary. As it is, he’s the guy on everyone’s cell phone under “Aaron Green”. People usually assume when you say your home life was bad that someone was smacking you around or there was no food, maybe your parents were junkies or crackheads. But it doesn’t have to be that dramatic to be bad. Sometimes your family can just forget you exist. Aaron was one of eight kids and none of them ever really had a chance. He disappeared in among his siblings so that no one ever noticed when he never came home at night. His home was loud, but there was never any real love in it. His parents were immigrants who’d come to America as children and never gotten out of the ghetto neighbourhoods of Detroit. They never had enough money and worked all the time, and when they came home, they would just stare blankly at their children, as if to say, “are you still here?” Aaron doesn’t think they were ever even in love; certainly the photographs never show people who looked happy to be together. Sometimes he lets himself wonder if they were like him, with dreams that they could never achieve and a burning need to do something, and if they just got beaten down by life, but it’s not like he can ask anymore. Chicago was the farthest Aaron could get from Detroit on the money he’d saved up, and it seemed like a town that still had hope, while Detroit was just dying slowly around him. He had a cousin there whose couch he crashed on (Aaron has cousins everywhere, they come out of the woodwork whenever one of them needs somewhere to crash), and a few job possibilities lined up, but he’d get itchy if he got stuck working behind a counter or washing dishes or shifting mail around, needing more stimulation than entry-level jobs provided. If he’d had the money to do training in a trade or something, maybe he could’ve done something with his hands that kept him occupied, or trained to be a tech expert, since he loves video games and can play them for hours if need be. Instead, he asked his dealer if the guy could hook him up with a gig, and one thing led to another. Working for the Costellos is mildly terrifying at times, but it feeds that part of him that needs to move and stay active. He doesn’t deal anything too hard, just weed and some party drugs, and he’s a favourite of club kids and college students for the quality of his product and his innovations when it comes to packaging and branding. He’ll wake up in the middle of the night with a brilliant idea about a new line of edibles like peppermint chocolates for the on-the-go buyer who doesn’t want to overindulge, or flavoured strains of CBD oil laced with hash to give a smooth high without any paranoia, or making their own line of e-liquids for vapes (something he’s very into, do not get him started on the unfair legislation around vaping rights), and spend the next three days making it happen only to crash once his latest masterpiece is complete. He could probably survive without a roommate at this point (though he’d have to live somewhere shady to do so and he’s become a little too comfortable to move back to the hood), but he used the excuse of needing one to let Corinna into his life. She’s the first person he’s lived with that he doesn’t feel anything but uncomplicated affection for, and the idea of having friends that you’re not either also selling to or working for is new and interesting for him. He’s a genuinely nice person (more so when baked but also overall), and he’s always happy to share his groceries or just sit up with her and listen to her talk. He may even someday tell her about his family, though that remains a subject he doesn’t address.   WRITING SAMPLE “Hey, man-bun!” Aaron turned around by reflex, even though someone yelling anything at you out of the blue was, at best, 50/50 gonna be a shitty situation. “That’s what your mom called me last night. At least I think that’s what she was saying, there was a lotta moaning going o-” Aaron didn’t get to finish his sentence, the punch catching him straight in the jaw. He looked like he could handle himself in a fight, but his muscles were all for show. Staggering back, he checked to see if all his teeth were still there. That was one thing that hadn’t gone wrong yet. “You sold me bad shit, motherfucker! Gimme my money back, or I’m gonna end you!” If this had been back in Detroit, Aaron might have taken this conversation more seriously, especially because he’d just gotten punched in the face, but this was Chicago, and he worked for the Costellos. Some little trust fund baby wasn’t gonna roll up on him and try and get a fucking refund. “That’s a shame. You still got the stuff? I’ll trade it in for new shit.” They were outside a bar in Costello territory, and the guy squaring up at him looked like he rowed every day and ate ivy for a living. Sure, he was dressed like he was living that thug life, but c'mon, no one’s teeth were that straight in Chiraq. That was the problem with cities like this, everyone thought they could front. Nobody in the suburbs would’ve even bothered, they’d have probably said please and thank you, but out here, people watched too many movies and thought you had to act like an OG. His friend, cuz of course he had a friend, punks like this never tried anything when it was a fair fight, just stood slightly off to the side and switched between grinning and sneering. “Are you fucking stupid? Did you hear me? Gimme my fucking money now! You’re lucky I don’t call my boys down and fuck your shit up for giving me lousy stuff!” It had gotten to the point where Aaron wasn’t really a street dealer primarily anymore, he was the guy you called when you needed something. He did deliveries and hung out at parties and clubs. When you were selling a product people wanted, you didn’t have to pound the pavement to sell it. But he was doing another favour for Holden. Aaron always did favours for Holden, no matter how many times the other man asked. He couldn’t help it. And normally he could spot an asshole a mile off and choose to refuse service, but Holden needed his quota to stay up, so Aaron had been a little too liberal with his sales tonight. Figures he’d get punched on his night off. “Like I said, I can do a trade if you’re unhappy with the product, but this isn’t a Target, man. We don’t do refunds. So hand over the shit, and I’ll give you some primo Afghani Kush. I’ll even top up the bag free of charge, cuz I wanna preserve our relationship.” The kid wasn’t having any of it. “I already smoked it and it did jackshit! I’m not even high! We even mixed it with some coke and it did fucking nothing!” Oh boy. So on top of assholes, they were idiots too. “You can’t mix it with coke, man. That just ruins both highs. If you’d said you’d wanted something to blend with uppers, I coulda-” Aaron was prevented in continuing with his sales pitch when the kid pulled out a gun. The fucking sikik seemed to think he could draw down in public. Granted, it was a shit neighbourhood, but it was still a Neighbourhood. “C'mon guy, this is a bad move. You really wanna think this one through, you know?” This whole evening was really turning into a bummer. If he got shot by this at hırsızı, he’d never live it down. And he didn’t have health insurance. The kid’s gun didn’t waver, and his friend had pulled a piece too. Awesome. “You coulda just given me the money, now I’m gonna take everything, and I’m gonna kick your ass too, you piece of shit fag-” The conversation ended abruptly with a squealing of tires and bright lights. Aaron jumped out of the way, rolling across the sidewalk and dragging himself up when there wasn’t immediate gunfire. The kid and his friend were now lying in the road groaning in front of a red Ford pickup. The door opened and Holden got out, looking at Aaron with bewilderment. “What the hell happened?” Stumbling forward, Aaron had the sense to kick the guns away from the two kids as he limped over to the truck’s passenger side. “Just a difference of opinion, don’t worry about it. But I’m thinking we talk about moving you to somewhere a little more high-class. This neighbourhood is going to shit.” As Holden slammed into the car and peeled away, the neighbourhood returned to normal, like it had never happened. It was Chicago, weirder things happened every day. Aaron leaned his head against the glass and dug a joint out of his pocket, inserting it between his lips and expertly lighting it with his lucky Zippo. “Don’t smoke that in the car, you’ll make it reek in here.” Laughing, Aaron rolled down the window. “You’re the weirdest dealer I know, man. C'mon, night’s still young, let’s hit Lake Forest and make some money off the preps out there.” Holden, shaking his head, took the turnoff and headed for the suburb. “You ever take anything seriously, cabron?” Aaron winked. “Not unless I can’t avoid it, kaşar.”