#do you know how to drive????????? i don't either

[cometconmain]

Wired is paid subscription only but I found someone on Reddit who posted the full text for everyone. (Sorry to anyone with screen readers, this is A LOT to type on my phone. I'll come back later to add it in when I have access to my computer.)

Here are some other articles I've found talking about it as well.

https://www.reuters.com/world/us/young-techies-underpin-musks-drive-slash-size-us-government-2025-02-05/

“I’ve been furloughed, I guess?” said one contractor with 15 years of experience for the bureau for humanitarian assistance, where she had helped coordinate urgent responses in Ukraine, Gaza, Somalia and Latin America. “I don’t know what my status is but I don’t think I work here right now.” By Monday, Kliger wrote an email to all staff at 12.42am to tell them not to bother coming into the building that day.

The incident has illustrated how Doge employees with Musk’s backing were able to override USAid leadership and bypass government procedures for accessing restricted areas with classified materials, fueling criticism that his agency is a national security risk.

“Did Secretary Rubio allow this kind of access by Musk’s employees?” asked Kim. “It worries me about USAid but if it’s happening here, I’m guessing it’s probably happening at all these other national security agencies.”

Formally, Rubio has delegated responsibility to Marocco, who has been pressed by congressional staffers to give details of the changes affecting USAid and the $40bn in foreign aid it manages each year. “The question at hand is: who’s in charge of the state department?” Senator Brian Schatz told the Guardian. “So far the answer has been Pete Marocco.”

Doge did not respond to questions about what security clearances, if any, the engineers held. “No classified material was accessed without proper security clearances,” wrote Katie Miller, a Doge spokesperson, on social media. But Scifs are regulated by a strict protocol and it is unclear who could have verified the Doge employees’ credentials and filed the necessary paperwork to allow them to enter.

Inside the building, staffers said that Doge cultivated a culture of fear. “It’s an extreme version of ‘who do you trust, when and how?’” said Kristina Drye, a speechwriter at the agency, who watched dozens of senior colleagues escorted out of the building by security. “It felt like the Soviet stories that one day someone is beside you and the next day they’re not.” People started meeting for coffee blocks away because “they didn’t feel safe in the coffee shops here to even talk about what’s going on”, she added. “I was in the elevator one morning and there was an older lady standing beside me and she had glasses on and I could see tears coming down under her glasses and before she got off her elevator she took her glasses off, wiped her eyes, and walked out,” she said. “Because if they see you crying, they know where you stand.”

(Btw I want to make it very clear I'm reblogging this because it's just their names and I'm not aware of or intending to support any address sharing because that would be doxxing which is unacceptable behaviour, especially when we want to make a world where collecting, sharing and using someone's personal data without their consent at all let alone to harm them is unacceptable behaviour. Their names are apparently easily seen on their own social media profiles as of this date, so it looks like their names are not currently private information. Their families also don't deserve to be harassed or attacked for these peoples' behaviour, so I don't support that either.)

These men just stole the personal information of everyone in America AND control the Treasury. Link to article.

Akash Bobba

Edward Coristine

Luke Farritor

Gautier Cole Killian

Gavin Kliger

Ethan Shaotran

Spread their names!

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Johnny's knee hurts. Price helps him feel better.

cw: messy blowjob. For the @continentcakeshop, who love Johnny.

Johnny shifted his foot for the third time in ten minutes and felt the now familiar twinge through his knee. He couldn't decide what was worse; the constant dull ache of keeping it stationary, like it needed to click, which was driving him batshit insane, or the sharp burn of a quick stretch that made his entire body jolt, knocking the table he was sharing with the boss man himself.

“You broken?” Price asked, tapping the blunt nib of his biro against the manilla folder by his form.

“Naw, sir. Jus’ me bum knee. S’givin’ me grief cause it's cald outside.”

“You been t’ the physio?”

“Not fer a few weeks. No time, ye know…” Johnny gestured aimlessly at the paperwork in front of him. When he'd signed up at fifteen and nine months, he hadn't expected to spend so long with a damn pen in his hand instead of a firearm.

Price hummed and Johnny watched his whiskers twitch as they tended to do when he was mulling something over. Then came the full face grimace as he considered his options. The biro clattered to the table moments later, the chair legs scraping against the concrete floor. “Olrigh’, can't ‘ave ya fallin’ behind. Keks down, leg up ‘ere.”

Johnny blinked owlishly, first at Price's hands as they patted his lap and then at the intense blue eyes watching him from beneath thick eyebrows. “Come again.”

“C’mon, MacTavish. Don't ‘ave all day. Boot off, drop ‘em. Quick rub down will make it feel better.”

Oh, he wasn't taking the piss. Well, shit. Johnny glanced at Price's hands again, big, weathered, with long clever fingers and a scar across the knuckles from where Price had skinned them open on the steel-plated jaw of a Kortac operator. The thought of having them on his body in any capacity made a sudden surge of heat fill his belly.

His knee gave another unrepentant throb and he stood awkwardly to undo his belt, jamming the heel of his boot against the toe of the other to kick it off before loosening the laces. He managed to slide his leg out, the knee support catching on his waistband, before slumping back into the chair. His foot hovered off the floor, suddenly conscious of how fuckin’ filthy his sock was. And how tight his boxers were.

“Ain't got all night,” Price said. “Stop bein’ a pansy. Ain't gonna ‘urt ya.”

Johnny scowled and extended his leg, setting it gingerly across Price's lap while his hands cupped over his crotch. “Naw one says pansy any more, old man.”

Price raised an eyebrow as he hooked Johnny's knee support and coaxed it down his calf muscle, bunching it at his ankle as he wrinkled his nose. “This sock ever seen a washin’ machine?”

“Oh feck, now ye really sound like me pa.”

“I was eleven years old when you were born, I ain't yer dad, MacTavish.” Price chucked the support and the filthy sock onto the floor and ran his thumbs up the sides of Johnny’s leg, pressing into the swollen ligaments and tendons either side of his patella. The sensation sat keenly on the threshold of pain and pleasure; Price couldn't press too hard without oil, but his pressure was damn perfect.

“Oh, fuck… mmm, aye, but I c’n still call ye dad–”

“If ya finish that sentence, ‘m gonna dislocate yer knee cap.”

“Aye, sir."

Johnny tried to stay quiet. He yapped when he was nervous and Jesus wept he was nervous now. Not because it hurt - god, fuck, Price’s hands were a damn dream - but because the heat in his belly was spreading out through the rest of him; a warm, fuzziness humming just below his skin. As the dull ache ebbed into a low throb, Johnny’s chin tilted down and his eyes lidded. He watched those strong hands work, manipulating his muscles and tendons like putty, pressing to and fro in easy glides that left Johnny lightheaded.

Johnny bit back a moan. Price was good. He knew what he was doing. Didn't stay only around the knee, but rubbed behind it and slightly down the calf to ease the resulting tension from where the rest of his leg was overcompensating. That was all fine… it was when those thumbs went up his thigh, one on the hairy outside, the other up the milky soft skin of the inner, that the whole arrangement got a bit spicy.

Johnny was getting hard. Proper hard, not just a cheeky little chubby. He could feel the wet patch in the cotton where his leaking tip was pushing up against his palm. Fuck, fuck. His eyes squeezed shut, and he tried to distract himself. Mentally listing off the steps for stripping a gun, the ingredients for a pipe bomb, the starting fifteen for Man City–

“Ev’ryfin olrigh’, Soap?”

Johnny’s eyes blinked open and he realised he'd been damn panting. Price hadn't stopped though. One hand had wandered a little higher, massaging his thigh muscle while the other cupped beneath his calf. Just a little higher and he could slide his cock into his captain's palm. Those callouses would feel unreal against the silky skin of his shaft… no, no, normal thoughts. Normal.

“Aye, sir. Sorry. Jus’... Uh…”

“Feels good,” Price finished for him. “Been a while for more ‘an jus’ physio then.” There was a wry amusement to his tone and Johnny’s lower lip pushed up in a pout, his face flushing red.

“S’not what it looks like.”

“Looks like yer hard from a little tenderness, sergeant.”

“Fuck, don't tell anyone, ah’ll do dogsbody in officer’s mess fer a whole month.”

“Oof, humiliatin’.”

“Not as humiliatin’ as Garrick takin’ the pish cause ah got a stonner for me captain,” Johnny blurted out, making it infinitely worse. “Fuck.”

Price snorted a laugh and Johnny’s eyes blew owlishly wide again. Those big hands were still working; any pain had faded, and only a warm pleasure remained, pressure coiling in his groin. Price hummed. “Maybe I can help ya with that too. If yer up for it.”

“What?” Johnny squeaked. Price was a gay man. That was no secret. He was one of the few gay men in the service that Johnny had ever encountered that endured precisely fuck all abuse about it. No cunt was daft enough to even try. Johnny had been too feart to own his sexuality, but Price had probably heard Grindr ping one too many times to be left under any illusion that Johnny was straight.

“Yer not the only one goin’ through a bit of a dry spell. Offer’s there.”

Johnny swallowed thickly. He couldn't lift his eyes from Price's hands, watching those strong thumbs circle either side of his knee again, prick throbbing in the confines of his boxers. Of all the days to wear his snug Calvin Kleins that left nothing to the imagination. The bulge had filled his palms now. He could pull away, put a stop to it, but he didn't want to. He wanted Price’s hand wrapped around his prick. “Aye.”

“Whot?”

“Aye, sir… ah’d like some… help,” Johnny finished lamely, his fingers tightening over his cock as he shifted his arse in the chair.

Price blinked at him slowly, leaning back in his chair. Johnny’s leg shifted a little, foot tilting out, and he saw it for the first time. A huge fuck off bulge in the front of Price's Carhartts. “Oh-ho, fuck me, look at the size of it,” Johnny wheezed, and then clicked his mouth shut, lips sucked in so he could chew on them before murmuring, “Respectfully… sir.”

Price chuckled, rubbing a hand over his face, nails raking down through his beard around the edges of his grin. “‘m gonna be glad ev’ryone's on leave, un’ I?”

Johnny flushed to the tips of his ears. “Ah can be wheesht.”

“Nah, don't be.” Price took Johnny's ankles and lowered his leg slowly to the floor. Johnny licked his lips as anticipation bubbled in his chest, hands still clasped over his crotch despite the futility of trying to hide his erection. His eyes somehow widening further as Price slipped from his seat and onto his knees between Johnny’s feet.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” Johnny breathed, hands shaking as Price took them and guided them away from where they still cupped protectively over his cock. He felt the warm puff of Price's breath over the hair on his belly and the damp spot on his boxers, and his toes curled against the floor. Those weathered fingers stroked up his thighs, over soft cotton to the elastic of his waistband. Johnny’s cock flicked gratefully free, ruddy and dark compared to the rest of him, and he sucked in a sharp hiss through his teeth as cool air found his wet slit.

“Well, pretty all over, ain’tcha, sergeant?”

Johnny knew he had a nice dick, good girth, nice upward curve to hit all the right spots and a respectable length. He'd taken enough selfies with it and then had his phone blow up to know, but to hear Price say it in that silky rumble made him go weak. His hips squirmed, and he bit his lower lip as Price's beard rubbed on his inner thigh, followed by the softness of his lips as he kissed a trail up. Johnny fingers bit into the outside of his legs as they pushed out, urging Price to get to his destination. “Please, sir…”

“Relax, soldier. I gotcha.”

Finally, Price grasped Johnny’s cock, fingers pushing through the coarse thatch of hair at the base. Johnny let out a soft whine, shaft flicking in Price’s grip as a thick pearl of precum welled from his slit. It was sweet, sweet torture. A mixture of relief and yearning that made his entire body light up. Price’s thumb swept below his waistband, brushing the swell of his sac, before he stroked up, fingers brushing over the flare of Johnny’s crown.

Johnny groaned, head flopping back because he needed to briefly thank fucking God for blessing his dick and promise to visit confession at some point in the next decade to repent for lusting after his captain's hands and mouth. He couldn't take his fucking eyes off Price for long, and he looked back in time to watch Price ease his foreskin back, the wicked tip of his tongue pushing though Johnny’s slit to lap it clean of pre. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… god, shite, ahh, sir, mmm.”

The lines around Price's eyes deepened in amusement, and then his eyes slid closed in what Johnny could only describe as bliss as he kissed the thick vein down Johnny's length, brushing the tip of his nose across silky skin until it buried against Johnny's groin with a soft groan. “Mm, fuck, ya smell good.”

Johnny spread his legs a little further, lifting his arse when Price tugged his boxers to bring them further down his thighs. The heat of his mouth enveloped Johnny’s balls, his tongue pressing down the seam, Johnny's cock resting against his cheek as he tasted his fill. Johnny panted through parted lips, one hand finally leaving his leg to slide around the back of his captain's head to pull his face closer. “Aye… sir, fuck… ahh.”

The moan that rumbled from Price’s chest rolled up Johnny’s body like an earthquake, and he heard the clatter of a buckle as Price fumbled with his belt to free his cock. Jacking himself off to the taste of Johnny’s sac in his mouth. When he finally drew away, he left Johnny's dark curls wet with spit, his blue eyes lidded, drunk on Johnny's musk and the pleasure of his hand pumping slowly up and down his own cock.

“God, yer a fuckin’ bonny picture, sir. Love tae suck cock, eh? Fuck.”

Price didn't say anything, just licked back up the underside of Johnny’s prick to draw the tip into his mouth. The wet glide of Price's tongue around his glans made Johnny groan, and he lifted his hips, pressing his tip over the ridges at the top of Price's mouth, fingers tightening at the back of his head. Price didn't need much encouragement to sink down, but he did so at his own pace, slowly, torturously, sucking Johnny deeper into the glorious wet heat of his mouth until Johnny’s head hit the back of his throat.

Johnny held him there for moment, admiring the stretch of his lips around the heft of his shaft, the lidded, fucked out enjoyment in his eyes, the way his broad shoulders were completely relaxed as he palmed himself lazily. Bonny was right. Johnny wondered what he'd be like on his back with his hands pinned above his head, what his moans might sound like when they weren't muffled by cock…

Price drew off, sucking greedily until he reached the tip, before lowering again in a steady glide, fucking his own mouth on Johnny's prick. Johnny moaned loudly with each dip of Price’s head, his thighs shaking as warm, irresistible pleasure curled in his hips, through his belly, his balls firming up beneath Price's chin. “Ah, ah, sir, fu-mm, fuck, yer mouth… is… ahh.”

And then Price swallowed him down proper. Johnny felt the pop as his head pushed into Price's throat, the clenching tightness made him choke out a low, trembling moan, Price’s nose buried against his groin. The sound of Price’s pumping hand, the wet slap of skin, grew more urgent and the thought that Price was even more turned on by having Johnny in his throat was dizzying. When he began to bob his head again, half choking on Johnny’s cock, Johnny knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

He didn't know where to put his hands, bunching Price's hair between his fingers, scrubbing them over his beard just to feel the bristles against his fingertips, sliding them down his throat to feel his Adam's apple bob and strain around his cock.

His heels lifted from the floor, toes pushing into the cold concrete, a sharp contrast to the blistering, pulsing heat of his captain's mouth as it milked him. He babbled incoherently, half Scots, half unintelligible English slurred out like a drunk at last orders, delirious with pleasure as saliva and precum pooled around his groin. His thumb stroked over Price's cheeks, pressing to feel the glide of his shaft through them and trace the damp of the tears that tracked from hazy blue eyes.

“Sir, ah’m, sir…” Johnny tried to tug him off because a gentleman didn't cum down a fella’s throat without asking, but Price fucking growled like a wolf having its meal stolen and that was enough to punch Johnny over into a heady climax. “Sir, fuck!” His stomach clenched, toes pushing against the floor as his hips lifted from the chair. Price kept sucking, drinking every drop offered by Johnny’s twitching prick. It coaxed him higher until he was whimpering in fucked out bliss, his fingers shaking in his captain's hair. Just as he was tipping over into oversensitivity, Price pulled off and pressed his face into the sweaty crease of Johnny's thigh, arm moving furiously, hips humping as he fucked his own grip.

“Yeah, g’won, sir, gonna come for me, liked havin’ my prick down ye throat, belly full of my cum.” Johnny stroked Price’s hair and watched his eyes roll back, his shoulders seizing, as he came hard into his fist. He panted between Johnny's legs, catching his breath for a moment, before he slumped back into his heels. Johnny took the opportunity to look down at his prick, still semi-hard, and he sucked in a breath. “Fuck, look at tha’ beast… ye top with tha’ weapon?”

“Only if you ya’sk nicely,” Price rasped. The sound of his throat, fucked raw, made Johnny's soft prick twitch against his thigh.

“How nicely?”

“State secret. S’classified.”

“I’ll steal L.T.’s clearance,” Johnny replied testily, and his hunch was rewarded with a quirk of the eyebrows. “Knew it.”

Price chuckled hoarsely. “Clean up. Got work t’ finish.” He rolled to his feet and for a beautiful moment his cock bobbed close to Johnny’s face. Be seein’ ye soon, sweet thing.

“Can't, ye jus’ sucked me brain out me prick.”

“Now, MacTavish.”

Johnny's mouth clicked shut, and then he mumbled a “yessir” as he pulled his boxers and jeans back up. He'd be lying if he said it was somewhat difficult to focus on the reports for the rest of the evening, especially when he lifted a foot to tease Price's crotch and the bastard spread his legs to give access. Didn't even flinch though. Wily git.

[seat-safety-switch]

Everyone on the news is constantly screaming about how it's my duty as a citizen of Earth to stop working on my little projects, go outside, and kill some of the invading space bugs (from outer space.) And that's not true. Studies actually show that taking breaks makes you more productive when you get back to work. By spending some "me time" for a week or two, I'll be a much better bug-squashing soldier than before.

Which is not to say that my projects don't have value to the defence forces, either. I'm pretty sure that this radar-guided lawnmower could one day be used as a self-driving tank, and not just for YouTube clout. Nobody is really watching, anyway, because they're either enlisted in the military or hiding in one of the relocation camps after the bugs have taken over most of the urbanized world during their first strike. Put a big crimp in my view hours, for sure. My last couple of videos have been total dogshit, and there's some real gold in there.

Now, it is true that I didn't tell anyone where I was going. I just kind of assumed I could nip away for fifteen, twenty minutes tops. Extended bathroom break, can't deny that to someone working so hard. They wouldn't miss me while they were busy defending the outpost from the approaching waves of bugs, just too busy. Then I started to make some progress on the project, and before you know it, it had been a couple of days. Honestly, it would be kind of awkward if I went back there now.

Come to think of it, what has humanity done for me lately anyway? At least the bugs aren't going to bother me once they're done destroying our planet's energy and defence mechanisms, and rounding up most of the population to eat. They won't bother coming way out here for just one dumbass working on painting old Hot Wheels toys. Hey, this spray paint just killed a cockroach in my basement. Guess it's really toxic to bugs. I probably shouldn't be breathing so much of this stuff, but it's how I get my best ideas. What do you mean, "we have to call the president?" And ruin all this fun?

[sissylittlefeather]

Daddy Loves His Baby

A/N: I was feeling some type of way earlier and I just wrote this half as a comfort to myself and half because people keep reading Daddy Likes His Football. So this is yet another part, but this one is a little... sweeter?

Here is part 1, and here is part 2.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: ~1.3k

“Honey, what’re you doin’ in here?” Elvis cracks the door and peeks into the room you share. It's dark despite the sunset outside and as his eyes adjust, he sees the lump that must be you in the bed. “Are you asleep?”

“No.” You sigh deeply and roll over onto your side, trying to hide the fact that you were crying.

“You been up here all day?” You close your eyes and cringe internally. You have, in fact, been in this bed all day long and he's just now noticing. He's busy, you know that, and you're being a little overdramatic, but it still hurts. Especially in your current state of mind.

“Yeah.” It’s barely audible, so he walks further into the room, looking down at you in the bed. You have these moods sometimes, and hell, so does he, but this seems to be worse than normal. He stands and stares at you, trying to decide just how firm he wants to be with you. You're an angel when he gets like this, but quite frankly, he's a little annoyed. He buys you everything you could ever want, gives you whatever you need, and is only ever a little grumpy about it.

“What's the problem?” It comes out a little harsher than he intends and you flinch.

“I dunno, Elvis. I'm just… sad.” He wants to roll his eyes so badly, but he holds back.

“Honey, you have no reason to be–”

“I know that!” You snap at him for the first time ever and it completely catches him off guard. “But you don't either and I put up with your bullshit moods all the time!”

You have no idea where this anger is coming from. Elvis is the love of your life and taking care of him is your joy, even when he's down. But right now you just want to be left alone to wallow in self-pity.

He purses his lips and shakes his head. A sad mood is one thing, but you need to remember who you belong to.

“Enough.” In two strides, he's next to you, yanking the covers off of you unceremoniously.

“Elvis!” You holler, but he ignores you, picking up your body easily and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Ya been in bed long enough. No more feelin’ sorry for yourself.” He carries you to the bathroom as you kick and yell and pound on his back with your tiny ineffectual fists. You gasp as he plops you on the lid of the toilet and then walks to the shower to start it up.

“What are you doing?! I don't wanna shower!” He continues to ignore you, checking the temperature and coming back over to you to undress you. You protest verbally, but let him strip you naked.

“You always feel better when you're wet, one way or another.” He's not wrong. There are two things that'll cheer you up without fail: sex and water. Maybe it's the Pisces in you. And you don't seem to be too eager to fuck him, so he decides a shower is the next best thing. You scoff and harumph as he moves you under the water.

“This isn't helping.” You sound like a petulant child now and he does roll his eyes this time.

“Shut up and wait for daddy.” He starts to pull his clothes off as you stand in the shower pouting. Eventually, you feel him move in behind you and sigh despite yourself. The water does feel really good and knowing he's naked behind you is just enough of a distraction from your mood. You turn to face him and lean your head back into the stream of water, moaning softly. He suppresses a smile at how quickly you seem to be coming back to life. It comforts him to know that he knows you this well. His relationships are never easy, but with you it feels like it's worth whatever he has to put up with. You drive him crazy in the best way possible and he loves you more than he's ever loved anyone before. He puts his hands on your hips and moves closer to you, pressing his lips to your neck. “You like this?”

You're quiet for a bit, just enjoying the sensation of his hands and mouth on you, but eventually you sigh and whisper, “yeah.”

He puts your arms on his shoulders and presses his body against you. Thinking about how much you mean to him has his cock hard where it pushes against you.

“You want daddy to make it all better?” You nod, your bad mood completely forgotten as your center radiates heat on his leg. “Good girl.”

He turns and presses your back up against the shower wall, dropping to his knees in front of you. You moan loudly and your eyes roll back as he shoves his tongue into your pussy. Usually it's you on your knees, so this is a welcome change.

“Fuck, daddy…” Your hand goes to the front of his hair as he eats you like a man starved. His tongue swirls your clit and then he sucks on it lightly, determined to make you cum as quickly as possible. He slides his long middle finger up inside you, curling it against your g-spot as he licks you. You feel your orgasm approaching you and your legs tremble with anticipation. He feels your walls start to flutter and grumbles into you.

“Cum for daddy, baby.” You listen to him and moan again as your climax washes over you, pounding in your veins and lighting you up like a firecracker. He groans as he feels you pulse around his finger and then pulls back, standing up. You lean against the wall, shaking and panting as he lifts one of your legs and bends his knees to line his cock up with your entrance. “Be a good girl and let daddy fuck you until he fills up this sweet little pussy.”

“Yes, daddy…” You whimper as he pushes inside you, grunting. He holds the side of your neck, his thumb brushing your lips as he picks up a steady pace, fucking into you faster and harder as the shower water mixes with the sweat on both of your bodies.

“Whose baby are you?” He growls, his cock sliding in and out of you.

“Yours, daddy.” You moan, reveling in the power with which he slams into you.

“And does daddy love his baby?” He doesn't give you a chance to answer, pressing his lips to yours and pushing his tongue into your mouth. When he finally does pull back, he puts his forehead on yours, thrusting deeper into you. “Does he?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“And daddy will always take care of her and make her happy?” You nod furiously and he moans. “Fuck. Daddy loves you, baby.”

He closes his eyes and fills you one last time, trembling as he shoots you full of cum and you lose control, another release vibrating in between your hips. You slump against him and he holds you steady, kissing your forehead gently. The steam curls around you and for a while there is nothing but the sound of your breathing as your heart rate normalizes.

“I love you too.” You murmur against his chest. He runs his fingers through your hair and kisses your temple. It's amazing how safe and at-ease you feel now, considering your mood from earlier. But that's just the effect he has on you, that you have on each other. He is your home, your peace. You love to tease him, but you'd never want to be without him. He reaches around you and converts the shower to a bath, laying down with you in his arms.

“You feel better?” He holds you, stroking your arm gently. You can be a real brat sometimes, but when it comes down to it, he wouldn't trade you for anything.

“Yeah. Thank you.” You sigh again and settle against him, snuggling into the hair on his chest.

He kisses the top of your head and smiles softly. “Any time, baby. Any time.”

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley @kxnnxy @angelriley222

[dependell]

Yes, I think the mindset of just calling depressed people lazy and telling them they must want to be miserable because they lack the energy or strength to dig themselves out of the hole they're in, does probably kill people. You're not helping anyone by doing that, if anything you're just feeding into the self-hatred I guarantee you they already feel, and how is that going to help them?

Try having some empathy, either try to help those you know in these situations or just don't say anything at all, because calling them lazy people who must desire misery helps literally no one and drives chronically depressed people a little closer to deciding their life isn't worth anything to anyone.

nothing frustrates me more than people who choose to stay miserable because they're waiting for someone else to change their lives for them. particularly when they shrug off every suggestion as to how they could improve their situation because they've decided that anyone else who has actually bettered their circumstances has just struggled less/had it easier than them.

[plumeria1]

Her Dream Gift

Masterlist

Note : Vi is in the spotlight for this second day of the Arcane Valentine's Day Week. I think this is my favorite post of this week dedicated to love.

Pairing: Vi x Fem Reader

Warning: None

Content: Fluff

Summary: You give to Vi her Valentine's day gift

For the past three years that you had been together, on every Valentine's Day you always wore a pretty dress, yet this time you surprised her by wearing leather pants and a white denim jacket over a purple t-shirt.

You surprised her by picking her up in a taxi after her day at work at her father Vander's garage.

-Hey, angel, what are you doing here?

-I'm here to give you your Valentine's Day gift.

You had a smile and a mysterious look. She knew you were up to something, but what surprised her was that you had come by taxi. You had a car and she knew you had no problem, so why didn't you come with your car?

She quickly moved on, far too happy to see you, and got into the taxi, kissing you quickly. She would have liked the kiss to be longer, but she preferred to wait until you were alone.

-Where are we going?

-If I tell you, it will ruin the surprise, and don't try to guess either.

She laughed, you knew her so well.

-I didn't have time to change.

It was true, she had just had time to grab her red leather jacket before joining you; underneath, she was still wearing her tank top with a few grease stains and black pants.

-You didn't need it. Besides, even if you were wearing a garbage bag, you'd still be beautiful.

-Do I have the right to ask a question?

-Of course.

-Why did you come by taxi? Does your car have a problem?

You knew she would ask you the question, sometimes she could be quite predictable.

-My car's fine, but I had forgotten that I had agreed to lend it to your sister for tonight. And I don't mind coming by taxi, it's not a long ride.

Vi slightly furrowed her brows but didn't ask any more questions; it often happened that you lent your car to Powder, so it wasn't strange.

The thirty-minute drive went by quite quickly, probably because you spent all your time chatting about your day, you at the clothing store and Vi at the garage.

You felt the taxi slow down and then stop in front of a small dirt path that led to a small clearing where Vi and you often went to relax.

-We're here, ladies.

You paid the driver and he opened the trunk for you. Vi got out, thanking the driver, and watched you pull out a large black sports bag from the trunk. You had just added another question to her internal search to guess what you were going to give her.

She offered to carry the bag for you, thinking she might be able to guess its contents.

-Okay, but don't open it.

You looked serious when you told her that. She absolutely must not know what was in that bag, or it would ruin the surprise. A gust of wind made you tighten your jacket around you.

-Come on, or you'll end up freezing to death.

You laughed sarcastically.

-Very funny, it's easy for you, you're a walking radiator.

-That's why you love me.

You climbed the path, and when you arrived, Vi was impressed. A fire was burning, on the floor, pillows were arranged on a tablecloth, and as she moved forward, she saw that you had placed most of the things she loved to eat on this tablecloth, and you had even thought to bring beers because you knew she hated wine and champagne.

-You did this?

-Yes, but I had help.

She kissed you long and hard, and you had to push her away because you knew that if you let her continue, you would end up being her dinner. You guided her to the pillows where she let herself fall heavily, making you laugh; she knew that doing this didn't bother you.

It's one of the reasons why she loved you so much, she knew that with you she could be natural and unfiltered. Simply being herself. And you did the same on your side because for her, as for you, the most important thing in a relationship was to be yourself above all, and that's how you were.

After a dinner full of laughter and a few kisses, it was finally time for Vi to receive her gift. You made her turn around while you blindfolded her, then you helped her get up.

-Why the headband?

-For the element of surprise.

-Why didn't you just put your hands in front of my eyes?

You let out a sigh through your nose.

-Because you are taller than me and I know very well that as soon as I take my hands away, you will try to cheat.

After a few steps, you stopped and told Vi to remove the blindfold. She frowned when she saw a large black tarp covering something she couldn't guess. She turned to you, curious.

-What is...

You pushed her gently.

-Go check it out.

She followed your advice and headed towards the tarp, lifting it under your hopeful eyes, hoping she would like her gift.

She stopped before she had finished removing the tarp, having lifted it enough to see what was underneath.

-No way.

She removed the tarp in one go, and in front of her was a BMW R 1250 GS Adventure. She had been dreaming of this bike for over a year but had never managed to save enough money.

Vi looked at you again, still in shock.

-How did you...

You knew she would be surprised, but you didn't imagine she would be this surprised.

-Happy Valentine's Day, Vi.

She rushed towards you and took you in her arms, lifting you up with a laugh. When she set you down, she kissed your entire face and ended with a long kiss that you returned this time.

-I can't believe it, you're crazy for giving me this, it costs a fortune.

You could see the joy in her eyes; you had never seen her so happy. She was right, that motorcycle had cost you a fortune, but seeing her so happy was worth its weight in gold.

You gave her time to admire it and went to get the bag you had placed next to the tablecloth.

-There's that too.

Vi took the bag and opened it, inwardly jubilant at the thought of finally knowing what it contained. She smiled upon discovering two helmets. One was obviously for you because she had promised to take you with her when she had the money for the motorcycle.

"Even if it's in ten years, there's no way I'm not taking you with me." That's what she had told you.

-Why am I not surprised by that from you?

-You didn't really think I was going to give you a motorcycle without considering your safety first, did you?

She had that tender look you loved about her, you thought it made her look like a puppy.

-I don't know what to say, thank you angel.

-I don't need you to thank me, you also gave me an incredible gift.

She had to give you your gift a day earlier because you caught her wrapping it.

She didn't expect you to come home earlier than planned, she was a bit disappointed to have to give it to you before the date, but you told her it didn't bother you.

When you opened it, you jumped for joy upon seeing that she had managed to find what you had been looking for for a month without success.

-By the way, for your information, you will be the first to drive it; no one has ever even gotten on it.

She took you in her arms again and kissed the top of your head. There was a question she had just thought of.

-Wait, if no one got on it, how did it get here?

-It's thanks to Ekko, he borrowed Benzo's trailer and brought the motorcycle with him.

-I will need to remember to thank him.

A gust of wind brought you back to reality.

-What if we leave now?

-Very good idea, I'm starting to feel cold.

Vi pulled you towards the motorcycle and got on with a smile before putting on her helmet, letting you do the same. Then she felt your hands grip her. Internally, she suspected that was why you loved riding with her so much, but she would be lying if she said she didn't like it.

You were enjoying her warmth and she was enjoying the sensation of your hands on her. With a kick, she folded the crutch and started, taking both of you home.

[mj-iza-writer]

Caretaker turned Whumper

Whumpee tearfully watched as the guards pulled Caretaker up from cuddling with them on the floor.

"We can cuddle more when I'm back", Caretaker promised as they were led to the door, "everything is alright."

Whumpee nodded and faked a smile.

The door closed behind Caretaker and the guards. Whumpee was alone again.

They huddled into the corner of the room still wrapped in the blanket Caretaker had comforted them with earlier.

"They promised not to hurt you as long as I did what was asked of me. I'm going to do it because I-I need to keep you safe", Caretaker had profusely promised multiple times, "as long as you are safe, t-that is all that matters. Just behave and don't get yourself into trouble while I'm away."

Whumpee was never told what Caretaker had to do to ensure their safety. They didn't dare ask either.

Whumpee jumped when the door opened.

Another guard came in with a tray of food and set it on the metal table.

"Eat."

The guard turned, and started for the door.

"Th-thankyou", Whumpee cautiously spoke.

The guard turned back to them and huffed.

Whumpee cowarded into the corner as much as they could.

The guard reached for the door after hearing Whumpee's whimpered apology.

Caretaker stood in the viewing room.

Someone was being stripped and tied to Caretaker's work bench.

Caretaker watched through the one-way mirror to make sure the setup was correct.

Whumper came in and stood next to Caretaker.

"How's Whumpee doing this afternoon?", Whumper asked curiously.

Caretaker side glanced Whumper before turning to them.

"What?", Whumper shrugged, "I can't ask how one of my prisoners is doing?"

"I'm trying to figure out if you are being serious or if this is one of your sick games", Caretaker frowned.

"I'm being serious. They looked cold yesterday, that's how they got the extra blanket", Whumper talked nonchalantly, "I asked one of the guards to warm up the room. I don't know if you noticed."

"You were in the room?", Caretaker glared, "with Whumpee?"

"Only to give them a blanket and a head pat. They are so brave", Whumper grinned, "trusting you and all."

Caretaker stepped daringly toward Whumper... fist ready to fight.

"Uh-uh", Whumper warned as they pulled out a remote, "I'd hate to ruin their lunch", Whumper pointed at a screen that had video feed of the room Whumpee and Caretaker were kept in.

Caretaker turned quickly to look, "don't", they warned.

Caretaker saw Whumper press the warning button.

"No", Whumpee's whimpers could be heard on the monitor. They quickly reached and felt the shock collar that was locked around their neck, "please, mercy. I didn't do anything", Whumpee pleaded.

"Please don't", Caretaker turned to Whumper, "I-I'm sorry."

"That's more like it", Whumper smirked, "sorry Whumpee, my finger hit the wrong button", Whumper spoke into a mic that connected to the room.

Caretaker watched as Whumpee shakingly shrunk to the floor, abandoning the tray of food they were just about to eat.

"Please tell them to eat", Caretaker pleaded.

The screen turned off, and Caretaker blinked away tears.

"What? Is the big bad Caretaker crying... for some prisoner", Whumper mocked, "is it from the guilt you feel from what you've done to them that drives you to protect them now? Is it some sort of attempt to repent?"

"No, th-they were the only one who forgave me for what I did", Caretaker admitted. They thought back to that night, "they don't see me as the monster you've made me."

A while ago, Caretaker had acted out against Whumper. As punishment, Caretaker had been locked in a full room. Everyone they had tortured for Whumper was also locked in that room with them. Caretaker had taken refuge against the wall and had buried their head into their lap to hide from the hateful but well-deserved torment they were receiving. They were as much a prisoner as everyone else was, but no one understood that. They were just as evil as Whumper.

"That dirt and blood covered hand reached for your hand", Whumper spoke out loud, "such a touching story. Whumpee sat with you all night, even though you had just tortured them earlier."

Caretaker fought back tears.

"How dangerous for yourself to have something weighing you down like that. You are really stuck. Whatever you do could impact that one", Whumper chuckled, "you've always been good at getting answers for me. That's why I let you keep Whumpee with you as a little pet. I figured that it would keep you in line. Plus, I really didn't have any plans for Whumpee. They would have probably died had you not taken them."

Caretaker frowned, "they're not a pet."

"Whatever you say", Whumper laughed, "good luck with this one by the way", Whumper looked into the interrogation room again, "they're a real piece of work. I'll feed the questions in to them like normal."

"Please let me see Whumpee one more time", Caretaker pleaded, "I'll do what I must as per our agreement. Just please."

Whumper nodded at the person in charge of the screens.

A full image of Whumpee came up again.

Caretaker sniffled.

"Whumpee, Caretaker would like you to eat your meal", Whumper talked into the mic.

Caretaker watched as Whumpee jumped at the sound Whumper's voice.

"I hit the button accidentally. You are not going to be shocked right now", Whumper smiled as Whumpee nervously nodded.

"Now go make me proud", Whumper chuckled.

Caretaker rubbing water on fresh wip markings, which caused the prisoner to writh and gasp on the table. Caretaker dug their fingers into the person's abdomen to signify it was completed.

"It seems you think you've finished?", Whumper questioned over the radio, "you finish when I say."

"Th-they answered your questions", Caretaker looked at the glass, "they can't take anymore. They'll die if we continue."

"Someone will be getting electrocuted", Whumper chuckled, "I'm done with that prisoner. They can die now. You either turn the level up to max on the probes attached to them or I'll shock Whumpee. Do you understand."

Whumper pointed at the person, who then turned on a screen in the room Caretaker was in.

"No Whumpee, please don't make me... I can't take a life... I can't do what you are asking me to do."

"Such a shame", Whumper sighed.

Whumpee grabbed the collar and screamed.

"Whumpee", Caretaker yelled, "please stop."

"This will keep happening. Do what you're told", Whumper ordered, "protect your pet."

"I-I'm sorry", Caretaker hurried to the machine.

"No, no, no", the person pleaded.

Caretaker paused before hitting the button.

Whumpee screamed, "Caretaker help!"

Caretaker to panicked and hit the button.

They shielded themself as the prisoner sparked. The screams matched Whumpee's until both quieted.

"How far did you turn that up?", Whumper laughed, "I think you roasted them."

"I-I don't know, you said turn it up. I can't think straight when someone I love is being electrocuted", Caretaker frowned, "Whumpee?"

"A little shaken up... they're fine", Whumper laughed, "good work today. Someone will be in to get you momentarily."

Caretaker cautiously walked around the table. They couldn't look at the smoking body. They only stared at the monitor.

Whumpee had collapsed on the floor and was gasping for breath.

"Please no more" Whumpee mumbled repeatedly between gasp, "please?"

Caretaker hurried into the room and dropped to the floor by Whumpee.

Whumpee whimpered when they saw Caretaker, then tears started to fall.

"I am so sorry", Caretaker pulled them close, "I wasn't fast enough, and you got hurt. I am so sorry."

Whumpee sobbed into Caretaker's chest.

"I-it hurts", Whumpee cried.

"I know, I'm sorry", Caretaker pulled them even closer and sighed, "I'm sorry for everything."

Whumpee calmed a little now that they were in Caretaker's arms.

"I'm so sorry", Caretaker whispered continually, "I'm so sorry". It was the only thing they could say.

Whumpee jumped when the door opened.

Whumper sauntered in.

Whumpee whimpered and hid their face into Caretaker's chest.

"Aw", Whumper circled them both, "if only they knew."

Caretaker glared up at Whumper.

"I'm a bad Whumpee. Please have mercy", Whumpee pleaded.

Caretaker rubbed their back, "no Whumpee. That was my fault. I-I'll...", Caretaker bit their lip, their glare deepened, "I-I'll make sure it doesn't happen again", Caretaker blinked away tears.

They were both very stuck. Caretaker had a weakness, and Whumper was going to use it. There was nothing that could be done to stop it, either. The only way to protect Whumpee was to play Whumper's game.

"I'm glad to hear that", Whumper gleefully turned to the door when they heard someone opening it, "oh look, dinner. I'll leave you both to it then."

Caretaker sighed when they watched the guard come in with two trays.

"I need you to eat Whumpee... come along", Caretaker stood and helped the shaking Whumpee up, "I'll help you eat. I'm so sorry."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@weirdthingweee @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@risk606 @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@jumpywhumpywriter @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @thenormalestever

@whatwhump @galatic-worm

@starmoon-constellation @bacillusinfection

[worldly-fluster]

Snapdragon

Part 4 of ?

Sylus x non-mc Reader

**It's starting to come together...the dots are connecting and it. Is. Glorious. lol**

*I know I lied about putting this on pause but... inspiration hit lol*

---

We sat in the sports car in silence for a while before he started driving, to the N109 zone I'm guessing.

I sat in the passenger seat quietly, tapping my fingers on my lap nervously. Not really knowing what to do, should I just ask him out right if he's my Sylus? Or just accept that he most likely isn't?

"...What are you thinking?"

I flinch before smiling awkwardly towards him, "Just...about how I could go home."

Sylus kept his gaze on the road ahead and hummed, "I'll try my best to help." He sent me a smirk before looking back at the road once more.

I send him a smile as well before turning back to the window.

Sylus continues to drive, taking me to his base in the N109 Zone, where I will now be staying at until I either find a way home or get sent somewhere else.

The ride was longer than I thought, and I was so tired. Even if this Sylus isn't mine...I'm happy to at least have a familiar face with me now, other than my own.

I ended up falling asleep before making it to our destination.

---

When I woke up, I was met with the twin masks of Luke and Kieran.

"She's awake Boss!"

"I see that."

I hear Sylus' voice coming from another area of the room. I look to the side of my spot on a couch to see Sylus sitting on an armchair, drinking an amber liquid in a clear glass.

"....do you have any Irish cream?"

Luke and Kieran share a look before laughing.

"You heard her," Sylus interrupts them, "Get the Irish cream."

"On it Boss!"

I chuckled awkwardly as I brought my hand up to run through my hair.

"I was just kidding...I'm too much of a lightweight. One sip will get me tipsy."

I watched as Luke came back in with a blue bottle and set it on one of the many small tables.

"Thank you, though."

Sylus drank what was left in his glass before tilting his head in a way that reminded me of my Snapdragon, making me look away.

"It'll be here if you want any, now I have some business I have to take care of." He stands and places his glass next to the blue bottle, "Don't wait for me."

And then he was gone, leaving me with the Twins.

"Sooo...are you a lightweight?"

---

MC has had a few drinks, thanks to Luke and Kieran wanting to see if she was actually a lightweight like she said.

Barely half a drink later and she is gone with the wind.

Sylus comes back from wherever he went, maybe an hour or two later, only to find a drunk MC mumbling something about flowers. Luke and Kieran were sent to finish a few errands while Sylus assessed the 'damage' they caused while he was gone.

When he gets closer and MC sees him, she smiles big and makes grabby hands towards him from her seat on the couch.

"There my Snapdragon *hick* I missss you~ Where you been?"

Sylus' eyes widened, it felt like the air was pulled right out of his lungs. What did you just call him?

Sylus was close enough that she was able to grab one of his hands and as she held it, she scrunched up her face.

"Wait...you're not My Snapdragon, he has claws." She looked up at Sylus' widened eyes, "Your eyes don't glow as much as his either...no horns..."

Tears started gathering in her eyes, "I want My Snapdragon..."

Sylus immediately gets onto his knees in front of her, placing her hands on his face with his eyes closed to hide his own tears starting to gather.

"I'm here..." He rubbs his face into her palms, her familiar scent entering his nose, "I'm here...you're here with me now, your Snapdragon is here."

Her eyes soften as a few tears fall, her thumbs rubbing under his eyes gently.

He opens his eyes and their eyes lock.

"My Snapdragon?"

"Yes..."

Their voices were quiet as they stared into one anothers eyes. After a moment, more tears gathered in her eyes and she pulled him into a warm embrace.

He met her hug with reverance, thinking that, before this, that he would have never been able to hold her ever again. As his arms wrapped securely around her, as if to make sure she was real and that she wouldn't slip away like in so many of his dreams...like she did so long ago.

"You're here," He repeated, reasuring himself more than her now, "You're here..."

She had her face burried in his neck, taking in his own scent. It was different.

It used to remind her of fire, brimstone, wildflowers and wilderness.

Now it smelled of soot, leather, with a hint of those same wildflowers, but somehow seemed more tame.

Sylus hugged her closer to him, falling back on the couch with a grunt, not wanting to move far at the moment in fear it might bring him out of this dream.

While she cuddled into his chest, any doubt that she wasn't his MC left him as he heard her familiar hums of a song he hasn't heard in what felt like forever.

It must be a dream...he never wants to wake up if it is.

---

*Sorry it's short, wanted to post something even if it was just a little because its been a bit*

**I think the next Part will be the last one of Snapdragon, if not it'll be the one after it**

Tag list: @poptrim @xxfaithlynxx @lavvytae @ellieevu

I hope that's everyone lol if not I'll update it later

[literaticat]

If an author writes a book not knowing the genre, will the book fit into a genre when it’s finished—or is it possible for a book to be completely genre-less?

I'm about to GO OFF, so if you just want the short answer:

I presume that if an author is writing a novel and they don't have a specific genre in mind when they are doing it, they are just writing fiction. You can get more specific after you finish the book and figure out where it belongs in the bookstore and how to describe it.

It's not really possible for a book to be "completely genre-less" because that implies that it CAN'T be categorized in a bookstore -- I bet your book can be. (I should hope so, anyway, otherwise how will it sell???) -- but also, uh -- it doesn't really matter? Everyone gets really hung up on these hyper-specific genre labels, but you don't really need to get THAT specific. If your book is just "general interest fiction" that's OK -- so call it a novel and describe what the tone is. (Funny? Realistic? Literary? Fast paced? Tearjerking? There has to be some way to describe it, no? )

Even if your book is just weird as hell rambling about things I would never read about in a hundred years -- guess what, that's a genre, Experimental Fiction. ;-)

--

Long Answer: Fun fact about the word "genre" -- it comes from the same root as genus, like what you probably heard back in school when learning about the taxonomy of animals and whatnot.

Because I am extra, I decided to do a little taxonomy of books. It's still a work in progress, I might decide to change it a bit, but this is the basic chart.

I'll assume that pretty much any book we're talking about here has the same domain, kingdom, phylum and class, and PROBABLY the same order, too, since most of you are likely writing Fiction.

Within the order FICTION, there are "families", which I here call Categories -- novels, graphic novels, plays, essay collections, short story anthologies, young adult novels, young adult anthologies, middle grade novels, middle grade graphic novels, chapter books, picture books, ETC. Categories in the order NONFICTION include Biography/Memoir, Cookbook, Reference, Religion, History, Science, etc.

Within each Category, there are different Genres -- that is, the type of [novel, or whatever] it is. Genres of novel include mystery, science fiction, horror, realistic, historical, romance, western, etc.

And within each Genre, you can get even more specific with species, which I am calling subgenre/tone. That's the type of the type, in other words. There are well-established subgenres (like Horror could be slasher, or gothic, or psychological. Romance could be historical, or realistic/contemporary, or whatever) -- but it's also acceptable to get more specific with tone or style -- "Comedic", "literary", "commercial" "upmarket" etc. (You can also have books that have both subgenre AND tone -- that's like species and sub-species)

Examples:

DRACULA: ORDER: Fiction > CATEGORY: Classic Novel > GENRE: Horror > SUBGENRE/TONE: Gothic

DON'T LET THE PIGEON DRIVE THE BUS: ORDER: Fiction > CATEGORY: Picture Book > GENRE: Meta-fiction > SUBGENRE/TONE: Comedic

LINCOLN IN THE BARDO: ORDER: Fiction > CATEGORY: Novel > GENRE: Magical Realism > SUBGENRE: Experimental > TONE: Literary

JAMES: ORDER: Fiction > CATEGORY: Novel > GENRE: Historical Fiction > SUBGRENRE: Retelling > TONE: Literary

You get it?

OK SO, in the bookstore, the books are first divided by CATEGORY. All the Cookbooks are together, because that's the Category, but if there are a lot of them, they will be broken up into categories-within-the-category ("genre" if you will). Perhaps they would be grouped by region or style (Mexican cuisine, Middle Eastern cuisine, European cuisine; Health Food; Baking; etc). Mastering the Art of French Cooking would be in Cookbooks, of course -- but in a larger bookstore with many cookbooks, it would likely be found in its region, either French or European Cuisine -- and in a store with a HUGE French cooking section, those books might even be further divided into "French > classic techniques" "French > desserts" "French > postmodern cuisine", etc. So:

MASTERING THE ART OF FRENCH COOKING: Order: Nonfiction > Category: Cookbook > Genre: French > Subgenre: Classic Technique

And so it goes with Fiction as well; the sections are divided by Category. So all the Middle Grade Novels are probably together. All the Picture Books are probably together. Etc. But for very large categories (like Fiction > Novel), there are enough books that it becomes easier to browse if they give the biggest genres their own shelving. Hence there are probably sections for Mystery, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Romance, etc.

MIND YOU: There are PLENTY of books that fall under "Fiction" and DON'T get separated out into one of those other genres. They are just categorized as fiction. The fiction section is probably the largest section in most bookstores -- it's not weird to write a book that gets filed in the "fiction" section! Those books still have a genre. That genre just might be "realistic" or "historical" or "western" or magical realism" or "postmodern/experimental" or something that doesn't neatly fall into the Mystery or Science Fiction (or whatever) genre categories.

For example: At my bookstore, we ONLY separate out Mystery, Science Fiction/Fantasy/Horror, Romance, Classics. So within the regular Fiction section you'll find a huge variety of books -- they all DO have a "genre" -- it just isn't one of those genres that gets shelved separately!

So, no, I believe there are books that just *don't have* a category or genre. ALL books have them. We might disagree a little about what they should be -- we might use slightly different words -- new species might pop up here and there -- we might be able to categorize some of them into even more minute niches -- but all books CAN be categorized in some fashion.

[aridhingra]

"All varieties of teasing are always on the table." A smirk tugging at his lips before laughing, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, tasting the saltiness of the water that still clung to his skin now. "Now who told you that you had an innocent appearance? Because they were lying, and you should get your money back." If there was one thing Ari could do, he could play the games too, she wanted to tease him, he could easily tease the blonde headed woman, at least she was being gracious enough to have talked to him so he wasn't standing on the beach completely alone, which had been the original plan. "Challenging and difficult, those are the two that you choose to start off with in telling someone about yourself? Brave, brave woman." Clicking his tongue, not sure if he was more impressed, amused, or fascinated by their conversation. "Believe you're supposed to save that information till you meet a person at least -- I don't know say the third time." Holding three of his fingers up as if driving the point really home. Though the blonde could do what she wanted, he just couldn't resist when she had offered up that information. "Mean there's the cliffs here, aren't there? Maybe it's not allowed to cliff jump from them, rocks below -- immediately crushes that rush, er -- figuratively and literally." Or maybe it was more turned into shredded human but there was no point in attempting to give more details to this story.

For Ari he was someone who was always up for an adventure, maybe you wouldn't actually find him cliff jumping but send him on a more difficult hike? Sign the man up. It was something he planned to do more of once the weather settled a bit more in Merrock and he could get outside, feel the crunch of his heavy boots back against the ground, it'd be that feeling of home for him. "That's all I could ever aim to be, a true gentleman, have to live up to someone's dreams." Ari quipped, tugging the towel tighter around his skin. "So you have one ghost lady, and you're willing to promote me. All I'm hearing is I'm winning at ghost life, and in the afterlife I'd at least have a friend, or maybe a ghost girlfriend, mean she's alone, I'm alone, haunting your for the rest of evermore might as well also make a partner out of it." It seemed like the only logical idea.

Giving a set nod, "You're not wrong, not something I want to think about anytime soon, actually happening. As much as haunting you until your last days probably would be far more amusing for me, than you. A person can only handle so many things going missing or ending up in random places before you know." Tapping the side of her temple indicating going a little crazy, but weren't they all in this world? "Definitely have a lot I want to teach him in this world so kind of have to stick around. Want him to learn to enjoy the outdoors, how to be kind and gentle with nature and animals." It was something he knew wouldn't happen for awhile, at least in the bigger sense there'd be years before he was taking him on adventures, but even in small ways he could make a change for the little boy. "Daddy Phantom sounds -- like you've been on booktok. Don't ask how I know about booktok either, you couldn't torture it out of me."

"I said that I'm freezing as fuck! Not that I fuck freezing -- wait, that -- no, definitely did not say that and I'm going to need you to make sure that you don't put out the image to anyone that I'm hanging around meat freezers. Are you trying to give the town of Merrock the idea I'm a serial killer? Not the vibe I'm trying to give, Sunny." As the blonde followed he rolled his eyes, "Apparently I'm far more exciting than you're giving me credit for, but I will take the liquor if you're offering now." Since this had all started over her playfully attempting to show off her spiked hot chocolate. Once inside it didn't take him long to dry off and change, emerging with his own hot drink, now far more suitable in a pair of jeans, his boots, and a simple button up. "Alright, I did make a pit stop for one of these, figure warm up and you show me the direction to this place you intend to take me to liquor me up and tap into all my secrets. Let's see how much game you have."

“Oh, I wasn’t aware any other variety of teasing was on the table,” Sunny couldn’t help but say, raising an eyebrow. She could appreciate the fact that Ari was multi-faceted. She didn’t know him well but he usually seemed mature, intelligent and it was nice to see a lighter side of him. She supposed that there had to be another side though given his history with Lucie. She didn’t know much about that either aside from Archer existing. To say the least, she was amused by all of this, more so than she was annoyed with the biting cold wind or the fact her hair kept blowing in her face. “I don’t think I ever said that I was an angel. I, despite this innocent appearance, can be many things and – challenging and difficult are just two of them.” She nodded though. “And yes, cliff diving is very much a thing. I mean, it’s probably more like large hills around here but there are cliffs in the world. The trick is honestly to just survive trying that thing once. Dying tends to take the fun out of everything.”

When it came to dumb decisions, Sunny was definitely the sort of person who would show up to support her friends through it. If there was an actual chance of death, she’d probably try and talk them out of it. She firmly believed in personal autonomy. Everyone had their own thoughts, feelings and preferences and if they only did the things she wanted them to do they weren’t going to be true to themselves. If they succeeded, great. If they failed, she was there. It all worked out in the end. At the moment, she was perfectly find to watch the chaos of the plunge and keep herself out of it. Truth be told, she couldn’t actually see ghosts or speak to spirits but she definitely believed they were out there. “You’re a true gentleman,” she said with a laugh. “Mostly just one but she’d be happy to have a new friend. Is it weird to pre-fix your living friends up with your house ghost lady? –I mean, I have a long friendship with her and we’ve only met a little while back but I’m open to promoting you. Especially, ghost you.”

It was probably not a good idea that he not die though. He did have dad stuff to do. “I’m sure it’ll end up okay though. I mean, he’s got fun parents. He’ll probably have plenty of fun words to say when he starts going,” she offered. At the end of the day everything was going to be just fine. “Maybe Daddy Phantom will be in the mix.”

It definitely was not easy to listen and not judge. She supposed she’d never be any of the trends because she definitely knew she was not demure. “Someone has to be that person, it might as well be me,” she said said with a shrug. “Ah. But I do have to question where you’re fucking that you’re freezing because I can’t say I’ve ever done that. Are you secretly a man around the meat locker?” She could definitely join him for warming up and drinking though. She followed his gesture starting to move with him, anywhere warm would do honestly. “I suppose, we could do that. I mean, I’ll drag you in and liquor you up so you can fill me in on all these stories of your exciting life. Clearly you’ve got secrets.”

[honourablepranksinatra]

Maple Leafs discourse on their team social medias makes me lose brain cells because wdym they're first in their division and coming off a 5 game win streak & people are commenting that the top players are only in it for the money and have no drive, that particular players are useless and need to be traded asap, that they're a garbage team, that they'll never make it past the first round just because they lost one game.

Apparently because they are being payed handsomely the players must be mindless automatons who perform perfectly every night. It drives me absolutely nuts how quickly alleged fans will completely turn on their own team.

[rintinningvt]

Started watching the Bayverse movies with my besties and... Are we just too gay for these movies??? Admittedly we only finished the first two and got through a quarter of the third, but the second one was such a drag to sit through at times and it probably doesn't help that we do NOT care about Sam that much. I hope that there is a character arc for him in the rest of the third movie. Because so far he has not been fun to watch in that one. He just comes off as a slight manchild to me, like... I can see why he would be frustrated with where he is in life but the way he acts with others and lashes out does not help him in the slightest. I do have to admit though that seeing him go to Cybertronian Heaven in the second movie was the funniest part for me and my besties lol.

I'll just hope that the other guy in the next movies will be at least a bit more interesting. Doesn't even have to be a good guy, just an interesting guy for me lol

[asfdhgsdkjhgb]

god is swuarshing me beneath his thumb like i am an aphid or perhaps a clover mite. yeah. its slow and painful and im small. and also meek

[snekdood]

this is so true 😩 absolutely 0 survival skills

"if we make america worse and more of a dictatorship that will be even harder to unravel and make it the way we want the country to be, maybe then everyone will join our Glorious Revolution!" bb girl you cant even be in the same room with someone who thinks you should vote, how in tf do you think you're gonna unite people to fight in The Revolution with you? it's gonna be you and your 5 friends, i hate to break it to you.

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

sorry for only saying this type of shit lately but i kinda wanna drive a car straight into a brick wall at the highest speed possible

[aceofwands]

idk man I just think of all the franchises you could try to make the Next Big Thing by creating a bunch of new shows and movies, maybe don't pick the one with the notoriously nitpicky obsessed with canon fandom ?? if you don't plan on applying any sort of consistency to the world, characters, alien cultures, entire ethical and moral framework of the universe, etc etc ????