#even though he got a fanta instead of a hot drink

[pulsar-1919]

Holidays are great and I love them but nothing like landing in Ireland in the rain and having the lady at passport control say welcome home

[mechatiqe]

Lonely in a full house… sounded like a foreign concept to the mechanic. He did understand the need to confide in someone, though, so maybe it was more about being able to be vulnerable than anything else. Someone you don’t have to keep up appearances around. It was still odd, since he wouldn’t categorize that as loneliness, but that’s probably because he didn’t really know what the princess was describing. He’s never been in her shoes before, after all.

The shoes he’d always thought looked pretty, but is just now discovering how hard they are to walk in.

…That was a poetic thing for his mind to think.

“Liam would be one of your younger cousins, right?” he asked, trying to create a mental picture of the other’s family tree. His mind always got lost when someone started talking about family members, since he only had his dad. “Don’t most people not get along with their parents, anyway? ‘cause like, the generation gap kinda gets in the way ‘n stuff… unless uh, unless you mean that they really really don’t get along. Like, they seriously hate each other kind of not getting along…”

He wondered what that would look like, in an important royal family. They’d definitely have to pretend everything was alright for the public, wouldn’t they? He’s never heard of fights between royal family members… but it wasn’t like he kept up with the news, either way.

“It depends on the cereal! If it’s chocolate, hot water makes it almost like hot chocolate. If it’s something else, cold water is okay, you just gotta drink-eat it quickly so it doesn’t lose too much of the crunch!” he explained, feeling somewhat like an expert. “But yeah, that’s only if you don’t have milk. If you do then milk is still better – there was one time where someone gave it to me with… milk tea, I think? That one is definitely the winner. It’s like… a warm, crunchy, sweet heavenly soup…” Just thinking about the memory made him sigh in pure bliss. “It’s just, it’s like if comfort was a food, you know? …All soups are, really.”

At her offer to buy him food, he quickly shook his head. He absolutely can’t have her doing that again, especially if she wouldn’t take his repayment later. It would feel like he was exploiting her kindness… in addition to making him feel like a beggar. That, was a kind of low he seriously didn’t like getting to. “I’m really alright! I snacked on two bags of chips earlier. Thank you for um, offering, though.” He took his can of Fanta and nervously fiddled with it, the ‘I think’ part not lost on him. Was it really okay, for him to sit with her? He was determined to make sure he didn’t make her uncomfortable anymore, but… it felt like making her go through his process of trial and error was unfair.

That thought kept circling around in his mind, even as they arrived at the cafeteria. It’s not that he didn’t listen to what the princess was saying during that time: he did, and attentively at that, but the unease still sat in the back of his mind. “No, no, that actually gave me a better idea about the country. I um, I always thought it was like America, but with a medieval vibe…” he admitted, sheepishly. “A-anyway, I get what you mean, with the individuality thing. We usually think as a group here, instead of as separate people… but I think we’re starting to go into that other mindset, too. At least, some of the younger generations are...” Glancing off at nothing in particular, he scratched his cheek. “…Dunno if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, though.”

He stood in his place awkwardly as he waited for the princess to choose what she’d like to eat, opening his can of carbonated drink just to give his hands something to do. The fuzzy taste on his tongue did nothing to quell his unease from earlier, but it did give him time to think as to how to address it, instead of letting it stay as the elephant in the room. As soon as he could get the princess’ attention, he tried to get to it immediately, before they get sidetracked. “H-hey, Sonia-san?” he called, in a way more stilted of a tone than he meant for it to be. “I… er, I was… thinking about what you said earlier, a-about is trying to be friends, I mean, and…” He toyed with the soda tab. “I-I feel like it’s still… not fair to you, to be the only one that has to put up with, like, the bad part of all this…”

“S-so!” he started again, this time with a nervous kind of determination. “I um, I found a solution! T-to make it fair, I mean. You can… like, when I do something that makes you feel sad or uncomfortable… you can give me a whack or a bonk on the head, or… something like that. To make it fair.” He held up one finger in each hand to demonstrate, though it was hard to see it when he was gripping his drink in one. “A one-for-one kind of thing, y’know? It’ll make me pay more attention to what I say or do around you... I-I know this sounds self-deprecating ‘n stuff, but it’s really not. I uh, I just don’t learn otherwise. You gotta smack the stupid outta my head or it stays there.”

Sonia nodded, despite him wanting to minimize his attitude towards children. Kazuichi saw it was nothing special but Sonia, she knew better. Or worse, perhaps, about the world they lived in: even if she never experienced it herself, she'd heard and seen enough to know that his morals on the matter were significant. "People should be nice to children, yes," She agreed with him as they walked side-by-side together. "People should also ensure that every citizen of the world is able to afford housing, food, clean water, and proper medical care. And plenty of first world countries cannot manage that, much less others that are still developing. Instead, the gap of wealth inequality rises, as does power and the means of exploiting the rest of the world to keep it. Including children, I should add."

She was never allowed to speak ill of the monarchy, or her family. Expressing discontent was akin to treason, or at least viewed as a spoiled, pampered young woman who had the audacity to complain about her lot in life. No matter how many things she had to turn down as a princess: experiences normal high school students embarked upon, from wearing trendy clothes from discount stores to eating fast food burgers to spending plenty of evenings at arcades and cafes, movie theaters and karaoke. Only in Japan had she been afforded such privileges: in her spare time at home, she watched movies in a home theater and sat with her cousins as they played round after round of video games.

"We have homes full of household staff and plenty of visitors for official business, but they can feel quite lonely often," Sonia explained with a gentle sigh. "We have our every need seen to except, most often, the one that needs seeing to most: someone whom we may confide in, who understands what we must face throughout our lives. Liam might be the closest to 'rowdiness' amongst the three of us, but I feel that is because he and his father, my uncle, do not get along much of the time. They share a love for sports, but that is about it."

She wasn't sure how to say that they all went to each other when the public appearances went awry, when the press was vicious to their family, when their parents fought and cried and slammed doors and smashed antiques. That hiding in the labyrinthian corrdiors beneath Novoselic Castle, in rooms that had once been dungeons and torture chambers but now turned recreational rooms for Sonia, was preferable to the elegant furnishings above ground that filled with tension, upset, and empty words.

There was so much she was eager to say or do, to prove that being royalty was nothing like he'd presumably seen in movies. But the loveless marriages between her own parents, and her uncle and aunt, were steps too far. As were the bruises Liam often needed to keep hidden, or the way Sam would bite his tongue whenever he spoke too fondly of his personal interests. Her own anxieties came in the form of a mirror, the disapproving remarks regarding her hobbies, or the feel of her mother's hand against her cheek. Careful never to cut or scar, but it stung all the same.

But she was happy for the change of topic, even if the idea of having cereal with water made her eyebrows raise in a mix of alarm and disgust. "Would that not just make the cereal soggy, in an unappealing way?" She inquired, "I feel like sweetened milk would taste far better than sweetened water, after cereal has sat in it for much too long. But I like all sorts of food, it is difficult to pick a favorite region of the world. Food from home will always carry that reminder, but I feel that the real pleasure of traveling abroad is living like the locals do, and that includes cuisine."

She'd guessed at it before he'd admitted it: Kazuichi had never left Japan, and where he lived wasn't terribly multi-cultural. That was a difference, Sonia realized, between Novoselic and Japan. "Are you sure?" She asked tentatively as they paused by the brightly-lit vending machine. "Meals should be taken at mealtimes, and I do not mind buying you breakfast if you would like. But if not, I would enjoy your company...I think." It felt odd to say, someone she once considered her stalker as someone whose company she'd enjoy. Was that Strasbourg Syndrome at work? Still, he had apologized for interrupting her and it seemingly wasn't on purpose. If he was going to try and do better, she needed to hold up her end of the deal with their friendship.

"Traditional Novosonian food often has a lot of baked goods, cheese, and chocolate, as well as meats and pasta. Perhaps the most similar to Japanese cuisine, before Japanese immigrants began to settle in Novoselic in the 1940s, is fondue: it is rather like your Shabu Shabu, I think," She offered. It was more difficult to answer than she thought: there was Novosonian dishes, and then there was what she was served in Novoselic Castle. It was rare for her to eat in a real restaurant or cafe at home. And fast food? Never. "Now there are Japanese flavors and cooking styles blended in with the traditional dishes sometimes to create something entirely different! I think that's wonderful."

"But as for what Novoselic is like, or how it differs from Japan..." Sonia continued, trailing off in thought as she waited for him to claim his strawberry Fanta. "The country is smaller, as are the cities within it. Most people speak multiple languages and enjoy spending time out of doors, especially during the warmer months and when there is snow on the mountains. But I think most importantly is that Novoselic, while hardworking, embraces a different balance than Japan's work-focused society: there are more vacations, people do not work as long hours, and are encouraged to possess a sense of individuality that I do not often see here in Japan."

They'd reached the cafeteria by then, Sonia holding the door for them both to enter. "Was that too broad of an explanation?" She asked. "Was there something specific you wondered about? I am afraid I may not have answered your question fully."

[bedtimebrain]

EXO D.O.: You & Me. (P7)

just a short chapter for a two-person u x ksoo time! no plot progression in this:( hope it goes faster soon

Series page

Genre/Desc: Loosely adapted from A Love So Beautiful

Chr: u x ksoo

“Ban ban chicken set! Enjoy your meal”

Before the waitress could even lay the glorious plate of chicken on the table, its mouth-watering aroma invaded your nostrils mercilessly. Though, that was very much welcomed.

Perhaps kyungsoo felt slightly obligated to give a celebratory speech before digging in, he awkwardly went

‘Uh, thanks for coming, today. Let’s eat’

Famished, you reached out for the drumstick without second thoughts.

But with immediate regrets.

You dropped the chicken as if they were burning coals and gripped tightly onto the cold beverage cup.

‘Ah!Ouch!’

Startled at your exclamation, kyungsoo stared at you for a good few seconds before cracking into a low chuckle.

‘This isn’t chicken delivery you know, the chicken is bound to be hot’ kyungsoo said as he gave the chicken stuck on his fork already, to you.

Returning a sheepish grin to him, you wisely utilised the fork this time round.

‘mmmmm. The chicken here is so juicy!’ you licked your lips after gobbled down your third piece.

Sipping the drink, the taste that greeted your tongue was not what you expected. Holding the drink out with a frown on your face, you asked

‘kyungsoo, what did you order? It doesn’t taste like cola’

‘I ordered 2 cola though, open the cap and check it?’ looking confused as you were

Pulling open the lid, you scrunched your face in disgust

‘ew kyungsoo, it’s fanta grape, I hate this’

‘ah, the waitress must have got it wrong. take mine instead'

Your heart skipped a beat.

did kyungsoo just... offer to swap his with mine..?

Looking at your finished chicken, it suddenly occurred to you

and he actually helped to take a piece of chicken for me just now...

it's not that kyungsoo wasn't kind but he was rarely this courteous to his friends. kyungsoo sure has ways to send you massively overthinking 

You must blanked out for quite awhile, because kyungsoo stuttered a little as he added

'uh, erm, if you're worried about the uh straw we can just switch them out' pushing his cup over to you

Not even trying to contain how happy you were, you quickly exchanged the drinks and sipped through his straw.

indirect kiss!

'thank you' in seventh heaven, you can't help but smile foolishly to yourself for the rest of the meal

---

Leaving the restaurant after using the washroom, you saw kyungsoo outside, speaking with a woman who seem to be in her 20s, holding a small piece of white paper in her hands.

who's that?

Hastening your pace to reach them quickly, you saw kyungsoo slide the paper into his jeans pocket, and bowed politely to the woman as she took her leave.

'who's that?' you probed

'uh, one of the event organisers, let’s go home' 

you raised your brows thinking, kyungsoo seems to be hiding something: aka that white paper that was given to him. 

'what did she..' 

interrupting you unintentionally or not, kyungsoo caught you off guard by asking

‘shall i hold the boards for you?’ 

you had an internal conflict for a moment, externally processing itself

‘oh no it’s fine, i can hold them! it’s would be troublesome for you to hold them too. 

Actually, no, wait -- help me please~~ i’m having a hard time with this broken shopper bag’ and you acted as if you would drop the boards anytime 

Though knowing you were just exaggerating, he laughed at your cheekiness and took both boards from you.

‘Y/N ah’ he called out and stopped walking, the two of you facing each other as he held your gaze

‘it was a really small competition, but gumawo, jinja, for doing all these boards.’ breaking the eye contact quickly once he said his words, he walked ahead quickly without you 

And you decided to do the craziest thing 

‘KYUNGSOO AH!! JOH-A-HAE!!! (i like you)’ 

You shouted at the top of your lungs, and kyungsoo turned back looking as like he was about to hit you with the boards 

Though not today, but one day, you will be his girlfriend, and you ran towards him with that thought

----------

Barely a day to go?! 🙈 hope ksoo does Vlive ((though it’s kinda a fat hope thing, sigh))

[takerfoxx]

Jurassic Park 4: Doki Idol Live Festival!

magic5ball submitted:

Remember how you asked me about my idea for a Jurassic Park sequel? Well, here you go:

The two velociraptors stood outside a pastel colored town house in Hokkaido prefecture, Japan. If any passerbys thought that was weird, they certainly didn’t show it. Probably because the raptors were wearing fedoras and fake mustaches, so they looked like humans. Also they had guns. Very cool, very intimidating mobster guns. A tommy gun and a sawed-off shotgun, respectively.

You needed guns, to survive Shinzo Abe’s little empire of vice and socialized medical care.

“So this is the place, huh?” muttered the velociraptor carrying the sawed-off shotgun. His thick Brooklyn accent hung in the air like concrete. “Kinda… frillier than I was expecting.”

“It better be.” Replied his companion, who sounded like your racist conservative uncle trying to impersonate that one cool guy from ‘The Godfather’ (You know, the one with the mustache who was played by Robert de Niro). “We hadda kill a whole lotta people to get this hellhole.”

Sawed-off shotgun licked his non-existent lizard lips

“But hey. That airplane stewardess tasted mighty fine goin-“

“Oh, for f*ck’s sake, would ya stop thinkin’ with your stomach and help me with this f*ckin’ knob!” cried tommy gun, trying to work the doorknob best he could with his raptor claws, which, in all honesty, wasn’t much, because raptor claws are terrible at operating things meant for human fingers. Little did he know, the door was a ‘pull’, not a ‘push.

At least he didn’t have to wait long before someone unlocked the door from the other side: another velociraptor, this one a bit on the short side. And p!ssed. Very, very p!ssed. You could tell he was the cool one because he wore an eyepatch over one eye. An eyepatch with a Captain Underpants logo on it.

“Didn’t your parent’s ever teach you idiots about using the doorbell?! I was just about to enjoy lunch with my beautiful wife and you-!“

He paused, recognizing the two figures facing him.

“Well, well, well” Said tommy gun, cocking his weapon “If it isn’t SWEET JOHN HAMMOND’S BALLSACK WHAT THE F*CK AM I LOOKING AT?!”

For the cool raptor was dressed in a gothic Lolita maid outfit, complete with a bonnet and penny loafers. Under his arm he carried a human sized pillow depicting what appeared to be a blonde floozy with massive tits.

 “Oh this? This is Mami Tomoe, my beautiful wife.”

“WHAT THE F*CK!?!?” Tommy gun pulled out a flask off orange Fanta from his butthole and drank the whole thing in one go. He did NOT have time for this homosexual weeaboo nonsense! Still, he and shotgun hadn’t left a mountain of corpses the exact height and width as Mt. Fuji behind them. Too many to go back to Isla Nublar empty handed. Er, clawed. Because they were dinosaurs. Who have claws.

Shotgun took a deep breath. “What the Boss means to say is, ‘May we take refuge in this fine establishment?’”

Cool raptor opened his mouth to reveal a pistol he’d hidden there. And by hidden I mean replaced his tongue with it.

“You know, for all crap you guys used to give me in the past, I oughta pump you full of lead right here and now. Buuutttt… the lady of the house is present, and I’m not in the mood to create more work on her end. So come on in! You’re just in time for lunch.”

Lest they attract unneeded attention, the three dinosaurs hopped inside.

.   .   .

Lunch was omurice boba tea with a bottle of teriyaki sauce on the side. It was just boba tea, but the boba had been replaced by omurice because F-Bomb hated the flavor of boba, which he likened to rabbit crap. The teriyaki sauce was teriyaki sauce.

It was the most racist thing shotgun had ever eaten.

“Well, now that you jerks have gotten a taste of my sloppy seconds, I suppose some introductions are in order. You’ve already met my lovely wife” Cool raptor gestured to the body pillow seated next to him “So that leaves you two. Mami, meet A-Hole and D-Bag. A-Hole’s got the tommy gun, D-Bag is ridin’ her sawed off shotgun, as always. They’re old… acquaintances of mine.”

“He.” Corrected D-Bag. “I’ve been using he/him pronouns six months now.”

“Well that’s an improvement. Now instead of bein’ the Boss’ side B!tch literally, you’re just his b!tch figuratively!”

“Well screw you too, F-Bomb!” laughed the boss. “An’ speakin’ of screwing, what’s with the fruity get up? You a prostitute now or something?”

 “Even better! This might surprise you, but I’ve got legitimate work now. This here’s my uniform, my uniform for MILF TIDDIES!”

A-Hole chugged his entire bottle of teriyaki sauce in one go, lest his mind implode from the sheer stupidity of that sentence.

“The Hell’s a milf tiddie!?”

“Only the best freakin’ maid café in Hoikaido, hookers!”

He gestured to a wall, covered in hundreds of photos of cute floozies dressed like they were attending a vampire’s funeral. Among them was a photo of F-Bomb in his drag, serving a deep fried hot dog to some elderly Japanese dude.

“As you can see, yours truly is serving Japan’s national desert to none other than 57th Prime Minister of Japan Shinzo Abe!”

“Hold it up. Youse been hobnobbing it with politicians?!”

“I wish! You’re thinking of Shinzo Abe, 57th Prime Minister of Japan. This guy is his twin brother. Still pretty sweet though. We DID win a Grammy for that, after all.”

A-Holes eyes bulged out of his scaly raptor head.

“YOUSE WON A GRAMMY FOR THAT?!”

“Dang right! Milf Tiddies has won sixteen Grammys since I started working there!” He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. A very special piece of paper, if the six holes punched into it were any indication. “Did you know that if you win ten Grammys in a row, they give you a free orphan? That’s how the wife and I got our glorious daughter, Lil’ Nagisa!”

F-Bomb pulled a faded photo out of his wallet. A photo showing himself, his pillow wife, and a smaller body pillow of a ten-year-old moeblob wearing a Green Bay Packers cheesehead helmet.

“So youse couldn’t even conceive your own kid?” Inquired D-Bag sexily. He was munching his omurice slowly, so F-Bomb knew he was being serious.

“Are you implying I have sex with my own wife, you sick freak?! I’m a weeaboo, not some degenerate anime fanboy! Get it straight!” He instinctively cocked the pistol in his throat. It was awesome as hell.

In response, D-Bag pumped his shotgun. Loudly.

“Permission to put the sick freak out of his misery, Boss?”

“Firstly, don’t call me Boss when we’re not having anal sex. Second, no can do, my spicy lover. We need F-Bomb alive.”

F-Bomb heard all of this even though A-Hole whispered it, but he pretended not to make A-Hole feel clever.

D-Bag mumbled about how the Boss was lucky he was so mind blowing in the sack, otherwise he would have left the relationship long ago. The sack in this case being a really kinky sex dungeon. Like really kinky. So kinky even Donald Trump wouldn’t go within a mile of it. D-Bag had almost died of autoerotic asphyxiation more times than I’ve gone to the bathroom in my lifetime. That’s why he was the smartest dinosaur out of the three of them. Now where was I again?

Anyway, F-Bomb interrogated

“Alright guys, what’s the deal? I know folks who come to this socialized medical care infested hellhole, and they don’t come here just to eat omurice boba tea. You WANT me for something.”

He cocked his mouth-pistol again. Sparks flew all over the carpet, which was made of alpaca fur so it didn’t catch fire.

A-Hole scandalously kept his cool.

“It’s about Isla Nublar.”

The second those words left A-Hole’s lips, F-Bomb escorted his wife out of the kitchen, but leaned her against the kitchen door, because that’s what she would have wanted.

“Well what about it? I told ya guys, I’m done with that dump.”

“They’re puttin’ the screws on us, F-Bomb. Making us pay for eating those tourists back in the nineties.”

“And what makes you think I care? Like I said, I’m done with that place. I got a wife and kid now.”

“But F-Bomb, doesn’t the Park mean ANYTHING to ya!? What about the time we ate that park ranger that called you a girl? ‘Better than sex’ I recall you saying.”

“Nice try, but I’m not exactly in the mood to get misgendered again. Don’t you guys got any ideas that don’t involve me?”

“As a matter of fact, yours truly had this really spectacular one!”

D-Bag did a hand gesture wherein he constantly crossed his dinosaur claws across his throat rapidly in quick succession. A-Hole, being very smart, knew this meant he should continue, loudly enough so that everyone in the prefecture could hear.

“It was called ‘Trump Ballz’. We’d harvest Donald Trump’s testicles, see, and sell them to the highest bidder, so they could do whatever people do with lopped off testicles. I’m not one to judge. It was a terrific idea. I know because when I told my best friend Donald Trump about it, he said, ‘A-Hole, this is an incredible idea. Absolutely terrific! This is probably the best idea in America! You are very smart, very intelligent dinosaur! I oughta buy you a prostitute!’ Of course, we didn’t realize that Trump’s ballz don’t grow back when you lop them off. Did you know that by the way? Human testicles don’t grow back-“

F-Bomb cocked the pistol inside his throat gain, getting the Boss to shut up. This was probably the most heroic thing anyone had ever done in the history of the universe. He also asked a question:

“SO WHAT THE HECK DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH ME?!”

A-Hole vomited a severed arm and a pamphlet onto the table.

“EVERYTHING, ya WEEB trash!”

The pamphlet was for something called the Doki Idol Live Fest- DILF, for short. F-Bomb was no stranger to the DILF, but they had parted ways years ago. Six, to be exact, when he had buried Nico Yazawa’s still screaming corpse by the side of the highway. And neither was he stranger to the prize.

It looked like a beer and soda drinking baseball cap, but only to complete idiots who didn’t know crap about the Idol Life.

And F-Bomb wasn’t one of those people, er dinosaurs.

“THE MCGUFFIN OF SIN?!”

“Dam* straight! And like it or not, youse the only one with enough idol know-how to help us win it! Thing’s worth, like, a zillion dollars.”

A zillion in this case was equivalent to half a million. Still, isn’t that impressive?

F-Bomb stuck his nose in his omurice and snorted, a common intimidation tactic among velociraptors. I know because I read  it in the Scientific American.

“Sorry, guys, but even with that on the line, no can do. I’m DONE with the Idol Life, any I’m not letting you filthy casuals drag me back in.” He cocked the pistol in his throat. “NOW SCRAM!”

A-Hole and D-Bag jumped out a window, so they could get the jump on a feral dog humping its’ owner. Nobody realized they were dinosaurs because of their fake mustaches, so it looked like a pair of mobsters were eating a puppy.

When they were gone, F-Bomb pranced to the bathroom, which was filled with plush alpacas he had collected over the years. So many, in fact, the bathroom did not meet OSHA compliance. Which was why F-Bomb had made it an independent nation state, only to realize that OSHA didn’t apply to him anyway, since he lived in Japan.

He had felt really stupid after that, but at least he got his own country out of it.

Anyway, he vomited sixteen liters of blood into the sink, for F-Bomb had a secret: he was dying. Back when he was a fetus in an egg in a lab on some island in the Caribean, he’d become addicted to the illegal street drug known as WEEB, and frequent use had poisoned his lungs. The doctors had given him Socialized Medical Care and four more years to live. The WEEB had taken eighty years off his life. Socialized Medical Care had borrowed his lawnmower and never given it back.

But F-Bomb also had a dream: he and his wife were going to build their own maid café, and it would be even better than MILF Tiddies. He’d already picked a title: DILF Tiddies, and it was going to be the greatest food-selling establishment in the history of Japan. Omurice boba tea was going to go global. But he’d never get the funds on time, not on his meager salary. Unless…

His beautiful wife greeted him as he exited the bathroom.

“Get a pen and some razor blades, sweetgums. I’ve got a letter to send.”

.   .   .

The message arrived in the neck of a mailman’s severed head. This is the traditional way velociraptors send letters to each other. I read it in a book.

D-Bag didn’t see the letter, but the look on A-Hole’s face told him everything.

“What’d I tell ya, D-Bag? Like I always say, when you’re dino you’re dino all the way, till youse dead in the ground or youse come out as gay!”

“Yeah, we really need to update those lyrics.”

End Chapter 1

...I cannot for the life of me decide if this is the greatest thing I've ever seen or the worst, but it at the very least had me staring speechless at my computer screen for a long time.

[dragonkeeper19600]

BATIM Lore from Dreams Come to Life

I ordered that Dreams Come to Life Bendy novel from Amazon. I’m a fast reader, and the book is clearly intended for a younger audience, so I was able to finished it in less than a day. I don’t see a lot of BATIM fans talking about this book, and it doesn’t come up all that often when people are formulating theories. This in spite of the fact that the book actually answers a lot of the mysteries surrounding the Ink Machine, the studio, the characters, etc. The novel is basically a prequel set in 1946 that tells the story of a recent hire to the studio and what he experiences there.

So, I’ve decided to make a quick compilation of what the book reveals about the game’s setting and characters. 

Obviously spoilers below:

Thomas Connor and Allison Pendle are strongly implied to be a couple. Thomas shows up to a party with Allison on his arm, and the two are very intimate with each other in general.

Wally is the only janitor working in the whole building.

There are several women working in the studio - more than the young male protagonist expected - and a few are even in higher management positions. The then current head of the art department is a woman named Abby Lambert. Dot, a female writing intern, explains that many women were hired in the studio during WWII while the men were overseas. When the war ended, rather than fire the women and give the men their jobs back, Joey kept the women on staff. Some of the male employees were so irritated by this they walked.

That said, there are a few moments where Joey expresses sexist ideals, saying that “women don’t really understand business” when Abby Lambert objects to wasting art supplies and showing favoritism to Buddy, the protagonist, because he “reminds him of himself” (in other words, he’s a young, white-passing man).

For a long time, Bendy was held behind a locked door in the music department. It’s Buddy who lets him out. Buddy’s narration describes hearing an insistent whining sound, like that a dog that wants to get out would make, before he opens the door.

Susie is no longer working at the studio by 1946. Allison and Norman make a few comments about “poor Susie” but don’t elaborate on what happened to her.

Henry created Bendy, Boris, and Alice Angel. However, Alice Angel didn’t make her debut until after Henry left.

Joey is still really sore over Henry walking. He rants to Buddy about how “betrayal” is the biggest enemy to personal success. He also calls Buddy “Henry” as he’s saying this.

Linda is Henry’s wife. Henry quit because the long hours at the studio were too demanding for the relationship. (Henry’s reasoning was hinted at by Joey’s speech at the end of Chapter 5 of the game.)

Joey’s main MO is to hire talented people and then take credit for their accomplishments. He lets people think he created Bendy, obtained the patent from the Ink Machine from Thomas Connor, and got violently angry when Thomas tried to get it back.

Norman mentions that the studio did well for a while after Henry left, but Joey has been putting a strain on finances with frivolous spending on the Bendyland Park, the Ink Machine, throwing huge parties, etc.

Bendy’s heyday has already passed by the time Buddy starts working at the studio. Buddy vaguely recognizes Bendy’s image when he first arrives but can’t quite place him. Buddy partially blames this on his family’s economic status making them unable to afford movie tickets, but Joey seems deeply hurt that Buddy doesn’t know who Bendy is.

I’m gonna tell you how Buddy meets Sammy because it’s one of my favorite scenes. The book tries to play it for horror, but I couldn’t help laughing because it’s just Classic Sammy ™:

So, Buddy was hired by Joey kind of on impulse as a gofer. On his first day, he’s asked to deliver something to the music department. He gets lost and ends up in the recording studio. There’s nobody there except a single, creepy violinist.

All of a sudden, Sammy comes tearing into the room covered head-to-toe in ink. It is everywhere. He’s so slathered in it that Buddy can’t tell that he’s looking at a person at first. He responds to Buddy’s offer for help with “My eyes!” Because the ink is in his eyes.

It’s shortly revealed that one of the ink-filled pipes was running through the closet where they keep sheet music. Sammy apparently went to the closet and got drenched when the pipe burst on him. Sammy also pulls a shard of glass out of his own head, which leads me to think that maybe he banged his head into the pipe hard enough to shatter it.

The book also goes into some detail about what Sammy’s corruption process was like. Buddy mentions in his narration seeing black stains on Sammy’s gums after the burst pipe. It turns out Sammy accidentally swallowed some of the ink. In a very disturbing monologue toward the end of the book, Sammy mentions how he could “feel [the ink drops] moving around inside me.” The ink in his system triggered a craving for it, so he proceeds to slam down bottles of ink like cans of Fanta. I’m totally serious. Buddy actually catches him drinking a bottle while at his music stand. He fucking empties all the bottles in the closet and then begins pestering Thomas and Abby for some of theirs. 

We don’t actually see him transform since he goes missing for several days. It turns out he’s been hiding in the studio all that time. When we run into him again in the climax, he looks like he does in-game. 

The Ink Machine changes ordinary, store-bought ink into what Buddy calls “Bad Ink” that has a number of supernatural properties. Among these:

Pictures drawn with it will move across the page. I don’t mean like a Harry Potter-style moving image, I mean the drawings themselves will slide off the page as though being dragged by a mouse in Photoshop.

The ink will actively seek out people and attempt to flow into their orifices.

As we see with Sammy, getting some into your body will trigger a craving for more.

Sammy is convinced that the ink moves according to Bendy’s will. He believes that the ink sought him out and helped forge some kind of psychic bond with Bendy. However, as we see in the game, Sammy isn’t as good at predicting what Bendy wants as he seems to think.

Joey seems to believe that being submerged in ink long enough will cause a person to lose their soul. Joey only wants “good, real” souls (his own words) to reanimate through the Machine.

Henry isn’t the first person Sammy has tried to sacrifice to Bendy. Sammy grabs a few other employees, ties them up, and coats them in ink, apparently in order connect them to Bendy. Among the kidnapped employees: Norman Polk. 

In addition to its constant production of Bad Ink, the Ink Machine can also reanimate the souls of the recently dead into living toons. 

At the end of the novel, Buddy drowns in the ink, but Joey apparently got to him in time to resurrect him into Boris. It’s heavily implied that Buddy is the Boris Henry befriends at the end of Chapter 2 of the game.

Buddy implies on several occasions that he is now sharing a mind with Boris. When he first wakes up after being reanimated (tee-hee!), he is alarmed at first to find himself existing in three dimensions instead of two. Buddy has a hard time telling if certain basic needs, such as hunger, are coming from him or Boris and mentions that Boris “starts to whine” when Buddy “asks himself too much,” adding: “We don’t like it.”

Buddy’s senses are now enhanced to those of a wolf. He can smell better, hear better, and has better night vision. However, he is also incapable of speech. He can understand himself just fine, but all the human characters can hear is a series of growls and barking noises. 

Buddy is apparently losing his mind to Boris’s. Boris’s mind isn’t in an antagonistic relationship with Buddy’s; he just seems along for the ride. Even so, Buddy finds that his memories are fading and his emotional needs are growing simpler. The book is framed as a memoir he’s writing while living in the studio, and there are a few occasions when he forgets what the book he’s writing is and has to remind himself. This is consist with Sammy’s dementia-like behavior during the Hot Topic Q&A, where he showed signs of memory loss and struggled to stay on-topic, sometimes forgetting what he was talking about mid-sentence.

Finally, appearances:

Allison Pendle is platinum blonde and as gorgeous as a movie star. Buddy can’t understand why she’s into voice work instead of being on camera.

Sammy is described as being bony and angular (like a bird). He also wore those same suspenders before his corruption.

Bertrum Piedmont is described as big and burly.

Norman has bushy eyebrows.

Buddy never really describes Thomas Connor, only mentions that he usually looks elegantly dressed. It is, however, implied that Thomas is POC in the following exchange:

Sammy: “Tom, come on, why would I want your ink?”

Tom: “It’s Mr. Connor.”

Sammy: “Why can’t I call you Tom?”

Tom: “Because we’re not friends. And you will give me the respect I deserve.”

[long pause]

Tom: “What’s wrong, Mr. Lawrence? Not used to giving someone like me respect?”

Sammy: “What’s that mean, ‘someone like you’?”

Tom: “You know what it means.”

[echoalyssa]

Imagine You and JJ Always Messing With Each Other

You and JJ had been best friends for years, practically since the day the two of you were born as your mothers had been best friends. The two of you did everything together.

Ever since he was old enough to walk and talk JJ had played countless pranks and tricks on you and it was a habit that he hadn’t grown out of. Not that you minded. However, ever since the start of the year the air between the two of you had changed. You were still best friends but now you thought of JJ slightly different.

Every time your skin touched his you could feel the blush creeping up and your heart beat faster. You started to notice and appreciate his smile, his laugh, the way his muscles pressed against his shirts. And the jealousy that overcame you when you saw JJ, who was one of the biggest flirts, around other females.

The two of you had always beeen affectionate with each other, you weren’t a stranger to hugging him, holding his hand, him draping an arm around your shoulders when the two of you walked next to each other or the kisses he pressed against your cheeks in greeting and goodbye.

It just felt different now, and it made you feel things that you couldn’t describe, because the two of you weren’t just best friends, there was something else there. Something you couldn’t quite describe.

“Heyo!” JJ yells in your ear, draping an arm across your shoulders as you rummage through your locker. You laugh and turn to swat at his face, he nimbly dodges your blow before swiftly snatching a piece of gum from inside your locker.

Your turn to try to snatch it back but he’s too tall and even standing on your tiptoes, chest pressed to his to try to keep your balance you can’t reach his hand.

“Jerk!” You mumble.

He laughs and pops the piece of gum into his mouth. He tosses the balled up wrapper at you and it bounces off your forehead. You pretend glare at him and reach up to mess with his hair which wasn’t currently platinum.

Last week you had snuck into his bathroom, while hanging out at his house, with a bottle of purple hair dye. You had proceeded to dump the hair dye into his shampoo bottle. Your plan worked perfectly because he hadn’t even noticed the change in his hair until he had gotten out of the shower and gone to flex in the mirror.

The dye was only semi-permanent and would only last a couple watches at most but he looked hilarious and the unrelenting tickles that he had awarded you afterwards was worth it.

At first he had been mad but JJ being the cocky guy he was was acting all confident and pretending that the hair color change had been his idea even though everyone knew that it was your doing.

He had gotten you back later that week by setting a plethora of alarms on your phone.

“You’re driving me home right?” You ask, bending to scoop up the gum wrapper from the floor.

“Nah, I’m ditching you for Jordan. He’s way less annoying.”

You roll you eyes at him and swat him on the shoulder, “I’ll be in your car after school.”

“Stop being such a stalker!” He yells causing half of the school to turn to look at you.

“Oh hey, we’re still going to homecoming with everyone right?”

JJ winks at you, then mock salutes you. “Yes sir!”

You laugh and head in the direction of your classroom, only just beating the bell.

~~~

It’s the last few hours before homecoming and you and Olivia are standing in her bathroom, applying the final details to your outfits.

“So how are you and Chris?” You ask, nudging her in the side as you apply your mascara.

She laughs, “Good I think, he’s a great guy! Anyone in our party that you’re interested in?”

An image of JJ stealing food from your plate while the two of you sit on the couch together pops into your mind but you shake your head at Olivia.

“Sure!” She draws out the word, not fully believing you.

You rearrange your hair for the millionth time, hoping that you look even a small percent as good as Olivia looks.

Olivia is punching on her toes and she grabs your hand, pulling you down the stairs to the foyer where the rest of your group was congregating.

You brush your hands over your navy dress, attempting to smooth out any wrinkles. Your heart thrums in your chest, you wouldn’t admit it to yourself but it was the thought of seeing JJ that was making oyou nervous.

Olivia departs to hug Chris. You glance around, Jordan was standing near the door with his date, Ripley. Spencer had an arm draped around Coop’s shoulders. Asher was standing next to Layla while she typed away on her phone and JJ hadn’t arrived yet.

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding and go to compliment the girls on their outfits.

The door bangs open and you hear JJ yell, “JJ’s in the house!”

You turn towards his voice, a smile already on your face, but it fades as soon as you spot him. He’s dressed in a light blue suit with a black tie looking as amazing as always if not more.

JJ isn’t alone like you had thought he would be as he had never mentioned another date, let alone dates.

On his arms are two blonde identical twins in hot pink body-con dresses. Their all smiles, made up and looking stunning.

“Ay! I got double the dates that you have!” He casts the words to you and your heart sinks.

Of course he had a date. He was the biggest flirt in the entire school and every girl wanted to have a taste of him. You felt stupid to think that he would ever want you.

You turn away from him, swallowing the lump in your throat as you hear JJ slap palms with the boys who laughed at him.

You plaster a fake smile to your face and turn around just as JJ and his dates reach you.

“Look who doesn’t have a date!” He means it as a joke but in that moment his words feel like a slap in the face and you feel pressure build behind your eyes.

“Gather round!” Mrs. Baker calls. She holds up her camera and everyone gathers close together for a photo.

Everyone has a date but you. You’ve never felt so out of place in your life.

Not being able to stand being anywhere near JJ you move to the opposite end and stand next to Olivia and Chris. She laces her fingers with yours, her other hand in Chris’.

You glance to your left and see JJ pat his cheek, indicating for the girls to kiss him on the cheek. Which they do, because who wouldn’t want to kiss JJ. You sure did.

“To the limo!” Jordan yells after a significant number of pictures have been taken by Mrs. Baker.

The group files out to the limo, piling in. You almost want to turn around and head back home instead. How could tonight be enjoyable at all when you would have to watch two barbies cling to JJ all night?

Olivia pulls you into the limo after her and just like that your fate is sealed. You were stuck attending homecoming.

~~~

It’s an hour into the dance and you’re standing on the sidelines holding a fake plastic glass full of Fanta. You swirl the drink around absentmindedly and scroll through your Instagram feed hoping for some sort of interesting post to take your mind off the dance.

A slow song was playing through the gym speakers and the couples had moved off to the dance floor together.

JJ was defying the song and doing some sort of strange breakdance while his dates laughed and cheered him on.

You chew on your lip and force yourself to look away.

“What’s with you tonight?”

Your head jerks up at the sound of JJ’s voice. He’s standing a foot away from you holding his own drink and watching you intently.

“Nothing,” you mumble, not able to mask the pain in your voice.

“Whoa, hey. There’s definitely something wrong. Where’s the crazy ass girl that I love so much?”

His words are like a stab in the heart, sure he said things like that about you but it meant absolutely nothing.

You stare at your drink and don’t respond. Your eyes burn and you know that if he keeps trying to talk to you you might just cry.

He places a warm hand on your forearm and you can’t help but jerk away.

“Y/N?” Concern laces his voice and is evident on his face at your behavior. “Let’s go somewhere. Talk. You know you can talk to me. Always.”

“Not this time JJ,” you say, your voice so soft that you don’t expect him to be able to hear you over the loudness of the gym. You turn away from him and make your getaway to the hallway.

You take a deep breath as the door swings shut behind you cutting off the noise abruptly. Your press your back to the wall and the heels of your hands into your eyes. Your body shakes slightly and you can’t help but breathe heavily.

The peace doesn’t last for long however. The gym door swings open but you don’t look at who has emerged. It was probably just someone who needed to go to the bathroom after having a little too much to drink.

“Is this about my dates?”

Your head jerks up and you realize that your face is inches away from a frowning JJ. His face falls even more when he sees the expression on your face.

You refuse to answer him, turning your head to stare down the hallway instead of at him.

A warm hand brushes against your cheek and then cups it, gently turning you towards him.

“I took it too far this time didn’t I?”

You still don’t respond, you can only stand frozen in place all too aware of JJ’s hand on your cheek.

“I never meant to upset you. I just thought it would be a fun thing for us to laugh about.” His voice is soft.

“Why the hell would that be anything I would want to laugh at?”

He chews on his lip, “I didn’t think that me brining dates would make you feel like this. I never let myself hope that you would.”

“Right,” you spit out, “because everything is always just all fun and games with you isn’t it!”

He shakes his head, his other hand moves to rest on your waist when you try to pull away from him. “Y/N... If I had known. If I had known that you didn’t want me to I never would have brought them.

“Of course I don’t want you to have brought them! I like you J! A lot! And you won’t ever be able to return the feelings so I deserve this for even thinking that my best friend would ever having feelings for me and-“

Your cut off by JJ’s strong hands that pull ou into him, one hand tilting your chin up.

“I do. I do return the feelings, I just never thought that you could ever like me.” His voice is so quiet that you can barely hear him. Your head can’t even understand the words that have left his mouth.

And then his lips are pressed against yours. You can’t believe that this was happening to you and you stand frozen for a few seconds before you realize that JJ is kissing you.

You return his kiss, a hand reaching up to tug at the baby fine hairs at the back of his neck that weren’t purple any longer, but their normal platinum.

He presses you closer to him and the warmth of him makes the room sway slightly.

When he finally pulls away for a breath of air and rests his forehead on yours you ask; “Are you messing with me? I swear if you’re messing with me I’ll-“

He shakes his head and kisses you again. “I could never mess with you about this. I like you. I really truly do. I just never thought that you could like a douche like me.”

“You are a douche,” you murmur and he laughs.

“Can I dance with the only girl that I have wanted to dance with all night?” He pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a small smile dancing across his lips.

“Not if you’re planning to do those weird breakdancing moves again!”

He laughs and pulls you by the hand, back into the gym.

[sweet-marie]

excerpt of memoir from last year which i kinda hate now<3 but it has its moments

I decided I was going to drown myself. There was no plug to the bath, but that was easily solved by stuffing the washcloth down the drain. I climbed in and waited as the water rose pleasantly warm over the cold gooseflesh of my legs, short hair starting to prickle over them. This felt good. I didn’t remember exactly what Sylvia Plath had said, about baths, but I tried to remember it as the water closed around my ears.

   In water I always felt calm as a whale. My swimsuit was like a fine blubber. My limbs would float, my cells swam around me. The microscopic composition of my body, narrowed down to those precise and perfect details, was invisible to me, an unknowable pile of nerves and jelly membranes. I can’t see my own eyes, of course, that’s a secret to me forever; the same way I can’t go looking around in the dark for my sight… I can see me in your eyes! I told a stranger, delightedly. I was four and the man was bobbing in the community pool across from me. I can see me in your eyes, he replied from behind his sunglasses.

   I had a dream about a pool, said Leona, so large-eyed and beautiful, vulnerable, almost alien. So blue. It was—pristine. She loved to say the word.

   She loved to make collages about the Holocaust.

   Blood chased my feet in the shower at home—they were a pair of moon-white fish, speared by something, circling, dying…

   Blood oranges water, not pinks it!

   Thom told me this under the grim sky of the schoolyard, gray clouds pressing down on us. We had both refused to change our clothes to the PE uniform, and the others flocked around us in gray shirts. Blood oranges water—I thought to myself this was a good description and I had to remember it. She was right.

   The warm bathwater was crowding in on me. Sylvia Plath had said something, I knew, in The Bell Jar—something about remembering the ceilings above the bath, maybe.

   Water made such mysterious sounds inside my ears. I always liked it. I tried to breathe in, to gulp down the warm water and fill my lungs but I couldn’t manage it. I had already decided not to drown myself, after all. I didn’t want some nurse to find me naked anyway. I took a breath.

   At home I had once tried to choke myself in the shower, my hands grasping my neck as I sobbed and spat into the water. You look fucking stupid, I thought, watching my face contort with tears in the foggy mirror. It was extremely satisfying to watch my eyes turn soft blobby pink, quavering with light. Yes, I was so sad. Yes! All these plans I knew wouldn’t work.

   Well, it didn’t. And now I didn’t have a clean washcloth. Stupid.

   I enjoyed it and decided to take a lot more baths from then on.

///

Leona, Happy, and Jennifer spent a lot of time on their collages. We were shepherded from C Unit to the art room through the soft winterlike light of the hospital halls. We passed the adult ward quietly. We never saw the adult patients, but they left some of their projects hanging in the art room, charcoal drawings mostly. They looked like self-portraits of ghosts. There were lots of National Geographics for Leona, Happy, and Jen: plenty of atrocities to choose from. The snowy black grain of dead bodies piled into a twisted unfathomable geometry of limbs; the sick, the starving and murdered. A headline about the heroin epidemic also. Jen was only allowed to post the word heroin on her wall if she added an e, which we all thought was hilarious.

   What is so bad about methamphetamine? Happy asked. The conversation frequently became about drugs. All of us laughed a lot about the question. I didn’t know anything about drugs. Jen and Happy were busy one night making lists of the good drugs and the bad ones and they’d tried most of the things I’d heard of and some I hadn’t.

   What is so bad about methamphetamine? It was a joke that was then repeated often.

   One of the nurses said something like, Please change the subject, or, That is inappropriate.

   Leona, Happy, and Jen were seventeen, the oldest of our friends; older than many of the children on the unit, young enough that they sometimes forgot to care what the little kids heard.

   Johny, our youngest friend, was fourteen. He seemed the saddest. He had very long, skinny fingers like an old man. He told me that I had pretty eyes, sometimes blue sometimes green—when had anybody ever liked me this much, outside of this awful place. He said, My eyes are shit brown. I just laughed along. It didn’t occur to me to say anything nice, even though I would have meant it. My voice was tired; I’d fallen out of the habit of saying what I thought.

   When Thom visited she talked enough that I didn’t have to say a lot. That was how it often was with us. She brought me a huge bag of my favorite sour candy, and flaming hot Cheetos for Esmeralda, my ten-year-old roommate. It wasn’t allowed, but we invited her to stay with us while Thom put makeup on me.

   A muscle in Esmeralda’s cheek jumped, not working towards speech, just a violent, repetitive twitch I’d never seen before. I didn’t understand, somehow.

   What? I said.

   She covered her cheek with one hand. It’s a tic.

   It didn’t go away even after we got her to laugh—a hesitant few syllables—at something, some joke. Thom’s hair was blonde and blue now. Sometimes, when she laughed the hardest, she used to press her face into my shoulder. I never knew what to do when people touched me. The first time she put her head on my shoulder we were watching Bolt on TV at her house and drinking bottles of orange Fanta, a blanket spread over our laps. She didn’t say anything, just leaned on me. I sat extremely still, so still it hurt. What do people do? I still haven’t learned.

   Do you think I’ll go to hell if I kill myself? I demanded of my father.

   You could, he said. You don’t know.

   He held me and sobbed. You can’t. I couldn’t. Live without you.

   I was so angry I didn’t know what to do. Anger rose in my mouth, made my spit sour. I needed him to let go of me. He was too warm, and his coat was too big. For the first time my mother had started looking so old. In some quieter country of myself, maybe, I have been saving up facts, how to recognize this look, how to gently handle remains.

///

The only outdoor part of the hospital was a courtyard sealed in glass, like an aquarium. It wasn’t much, but we were always begging to be taken there anyway, into the real gold light of the sun instead of our usual, indoor wintry fluorescence. And it got tiring to breathe the same dull air and pace the same few rooms, especially that day we were locked in for hours, while some men came in to do something about the mysterious dark stain spreading on the ceiling of the day room.

   Everyone loved to go out. Even Celsa went sometimes, and she was so doped up on lithium she barely did anything, even breakfast. Bribes and threats did not work on her. I witnessed it firsthand in my brief duration as her roommate. She was always drowning in bedsheets, drowning in sleep like wet sand. Her eyes were dark with it. My friends gently urged her to come outside with us one night. Celsa gave a tired smile, peered out from under her hair, and agreed. She laughed a little when she played tag with the kids in the dark. She never really said a word. It is good to be with other people, it is not always easy to do. But—it was beautifully possible to have friends in this small, suspended space. I had not often felt when I was very young that I had friends. I felt too tall and serious to be a real child. Here, with our usual secrecy stolen from us, we met each other with our faces plainly lit and open, four floors above the real world.

   It was possible to have friends. I’d been so sad. I never knew how to smile with my face leaned toward burning-down candles, opening my brightly-colored birthday presents. There were days, it was decided, you were supposed to be happier on certain days, and I just wasn’t.

   A man with the bluest eyes I’d ever seen asked me, in the emergency room, what was wrong. I didn’t want my parents to overhear. I explained quietly about the stupid incident in the bathroom stall at school, the knit gloves over my wrists, and the thing with the Tylenol, and I did—other things… I started to cry. Sometimes I forced sobs out to get rid of the rising bad feeling, an intentional purge; and then there was this other kind of crying, which was different, and took me by surprise. I never knew it would happen until I had already started.

   The psychologist with blue eyes looked very sad for me. All I wanted was sympathy; I was intensely hungry for sympathy almost all the time, from anyone, but this somehow made it worse, and I didn’t even know whether he meant it.

   I was wheeled up in my hospital gown. I tried to walk, but they explained it didn’t work that way.

   Up an elevator, through security gates, through locked doors; a woman’s hands flitted under my clothes, checking for blades, mapping injuries on a piece of paper. There was still cold glue on my chest from the EKG. They’d wanted to examine my heart. There was nothing wrong with my heart. I just couldn’t stop its sickening, wild beat.

   It was night, but I was allowed in the day room, wide and silent and dark. I opened the refrigerator—mostly juice. A few months ago, my mother and I had fought, and as I bent my head over some homework that night she silently moved my glass of cranberry juice away from my textbook, so it wouldn’t spill on it. And horrible hope and guilt rushed through me, because I knew she loved me.

   I didn’t even like juice. I closed the door and went to a table.

   I started drawing pictures because I didn’t know what else to do. I liked to keep my hands occupied, all the time. At first, no one was there, but then there appeared a small gathering of curious children, and Johny.

   All the children began to ask, Will you draw me? Will you draw me?, and Johny smiled and cast his dark eyes down.

   I asked Esmeralda if she wanted me to draw her, but she started shaking her head before I could finish the question.

   Draw me, demanded Rain, a little girl in pajamas and gym shoes.

   I did, I did draw most everyone, lots of times. It has been my impulse to give myself away freely, without thinking. I tell people nearly all of my secrets. Here: I won’t need this. I will be going away.

[whtaft]

Heelys Through Hell: A Stucky Fic to Benefit Planned Parenthood

I’ve been writing ficlets for donations to Planned Parenthood. For more information, see this post. @imperatorrrrr asked for a fic based on this text post. Thank you so much!!!

Bucky reaches the underworld while chomping on a hot dog with mustard and relish. He throws the last bits of the hot dog to Cerberus, whose three heads fight over the bit of processed meat. It’s easy to slide past the creature on his heelys after that.

“Hello?” Bucky calls as he reaches the cavernous chambers of the underworld. Hades could use some interior decor — it’s just slightly-wet stone everywhere. Joanna Gaines would call this a fixer-upper, but not even some shiplap could fix whatever is happening down here. No wonder no one wants to die; the aesthetic is awful.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” says a deep voice that echoes through chamber.

“Yeah?”

A billowing cloud of smoke emerges from the opposite end of the cavern. Moments later, a pale figure emerges. “Why are you here?” asks the man who must be the Lord of the Underworld, Hades.

Honestly, he looks kind of like Voldemort.

“I’m picking up Steve,” Bucky says.

Hades looks at Bucky, unimpressed. “I cannot give you a soul that has been—”

“No, no, there was a mistake. Paperwork got mixed up, whatever. Gimme Steve and we’ll get out of your hair.” He looks at Hades’ bald head. “Wherever you may have it,” he adds because public lice aren’t a joke.

“Steven Grant Rogers will not—”

“Listen, I’ve got shit to do, so does he. I assume you do, too, but I don’t know your schedule. Let’s get past the ‘oh, you can’t take him he’s doing so great in the underworld’ bull and talk about deals. What do you want for Steve Rogers. I’ve got an ice cold Fanta in my backpack if that does the trick.”

“What is a Fanta?” Hades asks.

“Orange soda.”

There’s a long pause. “As much as one’s parched lips may thirst for sugary sweet ambrosia, I don’t think that an orange soda is a fair trade for a soul.”

“What about a Fanta and a Snickers?” Bucky asks.

Hades looks at him, unimpressed.

Bucky groans. “Jesus, fine, whatever. What do you want?”

“Only a soul can—”

“Fine, whatever, take mine,” Bucky says.

There’s a long pause. “What?” Hades asks.

“Take my soul. What’s left of it, at least.”

“You would trade yourself for your friend?”

“Boyfriend,” Bucky corrects.

“Boyfriend,” Hades says and hey, it’s pretty cool that the Lord of the Underworld seems to be a-okay with the gays. Take that, homophobia.

“Yeah, boyfriend. We’ll switch. Just let me see him first, have a conversation. He owes me $50, too.”

Hades disappears in another poof of smoke, which is a little overdramatic. But moments later, Steve wanders into Bucky’s vision. He’s looking pale, wearing grey rags. But it’s Steve and Bucky heelys over there as quickly as the tiny sneaker wheels can take him.

He wraps his arm around an astonished-looking Steve and squeezes tight. “Hey buddy,” he says.

“Buck?” Steve asks, voice croaking. He holds on just as tight as Bucky’s holding him. Good. He feels cold.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m breaking you outta here.”

“Oh good, the interior design is terrible.” Bucky snorts, pressing his face to Steve’s golden hair. He missed Steve’s hair and Steve’s body and Steve’s mouth and just Steve. Sure, it’s only been sixteen hours but he’s deeply in love with this asshole. “Stop sniffing me,” Steve says.

“Make me.”

Steve does, pulling Bucky in for a biting kiss. Seems like Captain America missed his sidekick just as much as his sidekick missed him. He can feel Steve’s hard-on pressing up against his groin and is just about to take care of that when the cloud of smoke returns and Hades steps back out.

“Have you received your fifty dollars?” Hades asks.

Steve looks down at Bucky. “Is this really about the fifty bucks?” he asks, looking hurt.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Yes,” he says. Steve squeaks. “And about your immortal soul.”

“Gee thanks,” Steve says. “Let me get you your fifty bucks and you can be on your way.”

“I said it was also for your immortal soul!” Bucky responds, jabbing Steve in the side.

“Hey!”

“If you all are finished, we had a bargain: a out for a soul.”

Steve looks at Bucky wide-eyed. “You didn’t,” he says.

Bucky shrugs. “It’s whatever. The dog’s cute.”

“Bucky,” Steve hisses.

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Your time has come,” Hades says.

“Hold on, I gott ask Steve…” Bucky says, then turns to Steve. “You okay with me staying down here forever?”

“No!” Steve squawks.

“This isn’t a choi—” Hades says, but Bucky interrupts.

“The big man said no,” Bucky as, giving Steve a pat on the back. “But I’ve still got the Fanta, if you want that.”

The smoke behind Hades starts to gather and Bucky doesn’t waste any time. “Hop on,” he tells Steve, gesturing to his back. Steve does hop on, wraps his arms around Bucky, and Bucky heelys their way out of hell.

— —

“That was easy,” Steve says as they get back to their New York apartment. “Too easy.” He pulls off his ragged shoes and makes his way through the apartment, looking at everything as if it’s been years since he’s been there and not a day. It’s kind of nice to see Steve look so appreciative of the life they’ve built together over the past few years, though. That’s pretty cool.

“Oh, I’m sure something terrible will happen now,” Bucky says, toeing off his heelys and letting them drop next to the door. He makes his way across the apartment and over to Steve, then wraps his arms around him. “Whatever, I’ve got you back. That’s all I care about.”

“Thanks for getting me back, Buck,” Steve says, laughing.

“No problem. Wanna split that Fanta?” he asks.

“Sure,” Steve says. The you’re ridiculous is implied.

Bucky smiles, extricates himself from Steve, and goes to his backpack. Steve follows him, close behind.

There’s no Fanta inside.

Instead, there’s a note written in immaculate cursive on a thick off-white yardstick. It reads:

The drink is a stop gap. You’ll return to me again with time, both of you. But for now, live and love as you are. Until we meet again.

“Wow, that’s… He’s not going to follow us?” Steve asks. “That’s actually really nice of him.”

Bucky pauses. He scowls.

“What is it?” Steve asks.

“That motherfucker stole my Fanta.”

“Is that really what you’re taking from this?” Steve asks.

Bucky blinks. “Of course,” he says.

Steve grins, slings an arm around Bucky’s shoulders, and kisses him on the cheek. “We can go to the bodega and get you another Fanta,” he says.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Bucky complains, but lets Steve guide him back towards the door.

It’s nice to have him back home.

[feynavaley]

50 Questions

I took this from @mandelene, thanks for the open invitation!

———

1. What is the colour of your hairbrush? Light brown. (It’s a wooden hairbrush.)

2. Name a food you never ever eat. Well... I’m quite a picky eater but I generally try everything if I’m pressed (even though I end up not liking it). I won’t eat very spicy food though, I don’t have a good tolerance for it. Another food I used to enjoy but now I can’t even stand the smell of anymore – and even less I would eat – is almond paste. (Long story short, I came up with something – maybe labyrinthitis – that made me awfully nauseous and dizzy for a few days. I would throw up any time I even just stood up, I couldn’t eat anything. But my roommate had on her desk and almond paste cake, which has a very strong smell. Since I constantly smelled it while feeling so sick, now that’s what I associate that smell and taste with.)

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold? Generally, too cold. I handle being cold better than I handle being hot, though.

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Translating from English to Italian some stuff my dad needs for work. (He doesn’t understand/speak English.)

5. What is your favourite candy bar? Kinder Bueno, Tronky, and Bounty.

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports game? No.

7. What is the last thing you said out loud? “No, I haven’t seen your glasses. Are you sure you didn’t leave them upstairs?” to my mother.

8. What is your favourite ice cream? If it’s good, Pistachio. It’s very hard to get right, though. Not many ice cream parlours can prepare it well, they tend to make it too sweet.

9. What was the last thing you had to drink? Water.

10. Do you like your wallet? Yes. Actually, I have two – one is a big red one where I keep basically everything, the other is blue and small and I just put in there a few banknotes and coins and the cards I need, changing them every time. I like both of them.

11. What was the last thing you ate? Chicken breast and salad for dinner.

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? Nope. I’ve been confined home for almost one month and a half. 😅

13. The last sporting event you watched? I don’t know. I’m not a fan of sports so I don’t watch anything spontaneously. I only watch something if I’m with somebody who wants to watch it, but I don’t remember when the last time was.

14. What is your favourite flavour of popcorn? Uhh... there are different flavours of popcorns? I only know one... 😅 I’m not a great fan, though.

15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to? An aunt of mine. (My mother’s youngest sister.)

16. Ever go camping? Yes and no. I’ve never gone with a tent in the wild or anything – however, my grandparents used to own a trailer that they kept in a fancy camping location/trailer park by the seaside. When I was a child, I would spend the entire three months of summer break there. I don’t know if it counts as camping, though. After growing older, my sister and I would sleep in a tent instead of the trailer (because the trailer was too small for everybody), but it was still in that fancy campsite which I don’t know how much can count.

17. Do you take vitamins? No.

18. Do you go to church every Sunday? Yes. I mean, not right now, clearly (all the Churches are closed due to Covid-19 lockdown) but I would go under normal circumstances.

19. Do you have a tan? No. And it’s very hard for me to get one, anyway. I’m as white as a person can possibly be. 😅 (I’m paler than an actual albino person I know at work. I wish I were kidding. 😓)

20. Do you prefer Chinese food over pizza? I prefer pizza. Very stereotypical, I know. 😅 (I’m talking about real Italian pizza, though.)

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw? Generally not.

22. What colour socks do you usually wear? White or black.

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit? Depends on where I am and what the speed limit is. I respect the 50 km/h limit inside the cities and towns, but the 30 km/h that can be often found... yeah. 😅 (I’ve never met a driver who respected it, though.) If I’m out of the city and on a straight street across the countryside, I respect the 70 km/h limit but I tend to go faster if there’s a 50 km/h one. (Unless I know there’s an autovelox.) I’ve never gone above the 90 km/h limit, either – actually, I tend to go more around 80–85 km/h on those streets. I should probably also mention that I never drive much above the speed limit, though.

24. What terrifies you? Failure. Hurting or even just disappointing or upsetting other people. On the irrational side, I’m highly arachnophobic and I’m terrified of dogs.(Because I was attacked by a freaking SAINT BERNARD. Luckily, it just got my sweater, but it was completely mauled by the time somebody managed to get it back so... It also turned out I’m mildly allergic though, so me not staying around dogs is probably for the best anyway.)

25. Look to your left, what do you see? I actually don’t know how it’s called in English. I have a sloped wooden roof covering the left side of my bedroom, and I see it along with the skylight.

26. What chore do you hate most? Washing the dishes. Our sink is at a height that forces me to bend in an awkward way and makes my back ache if I have to wash more than a couple of dishes.

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? “OMG what is that person saying?? 😭” I’m not a native English speaker so strong non-standard accents always throw me off a bit, at least at first. 😅 I need a few minutes to get used to them.

28. What’s your favourite soda? Citron soda (I don’t know the brand. It was one my great-grandparents used to have in small glass bottles, it tasted amazing and was so refreshing...), Fanta, or Coke Zero. I don’t drink soda often, though.

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive? I go in. I think there’s only one place with a drive-through in my hometown. 

30. What is your favourite number? For some reason, I’ve always liked the numbers 3 and 11. They aren’t my lucky numbers or anything, I just like them. (Actually, thinking about it, I know why I like the number 11... In German, it’s ‘elf’, and I started taking German around the period I was obsessed with LoTR... 😅)

31. Who’s the last person you talked to? My mother.

32. Favourite cut of beef? I hardly ever eat beef (I eat meat about every other day, but it’s generally chicken or turkey breast), I don’t have a preference.

33. Last song you listened to? This one. (You’re welcome.)

34. Last book you read? Fire and Blood by George R.R. Martin.

35. Favourite day of the week? Saturday.

36. Can you say the alphabet backwards? Yes, but only the Italian one (that is missing J, K, X, Y, W). I tend to mix up some letters in the English one. 😅

37. How do you like your coffee? Plain espresso.

38. Favourite pair of shoes? My ankle-height black converse.

39. The time you normally get up? Since the lockdown started, between 8:30–9. I’ve been having trouble sleeping so I’m always tired in the morning.

40. What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? Sunset, the colours are gorgeous. Sunrise is still beautiful and so it’s the atmosphere, but the colours tend to be fainter.

41. How many blankets on your bed? One, at the moment.

42. Describe your kitchen plates. Kind of square, white with blue and yellow stylized flowers in the corners.

43. Describe your kitchen at the moment? Quite empty. We’re due a grocery run.

44. Do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? No, I don’t like any alcoholic drink. For some reason, I don’t like the taste of alcohol. (And there’s probably something genetic here as it’s also true for my sister, my father, and other relatives from my father’s side.)

45. Do you play cards? Technically, I know a few games but I’m not really good at them and I don’t play often.

46. What colour is your car? I use my mother’s car and it’s dark blue. We also have a dark grey car (belonging to my father) but I’ve never used it because it’s very big (you can go up to 7 seats), I wouldn’t feel comfortable with driving it, let alone parking.

47. Can you change a tire? No.

48. Your favourite state? I’ve never been anywhere in the US so I can’t say.

49. Favourite job you’ve had? The current one. The pay is very low so I’ll have to leave it as soon as I find something better, but I love these children so much. 😭

50. How did you get your biggest scar? I actually don’t have any big scar... I have several small ones. The biggest one is probably on my arm, from when I leaned against the toaster to unplug it and got this long, thin burn. 😅

———

I tag anybody who feels like doing this! And please tag me back, I’d love to read your answers! 😊

[elichatterarchive]

Dave stumbles into the lab one night, crimson eyes half closed against the lamplight Dirk works by. ‘Saw the door was open. What’re you doing?’

Dirk doesn’t look up, face inches from the wiring that he’s tinkering with. ‘Working.’ 

‘Is that what we’re calling it? Looks to me like you’re obsessing,’ Dave tells him. 

Dirk is almost knocked out by the realisation that he is, in fact, obsessing, and that his younger-older brother is most definitely about to save his ass.

‘Fuck,’ he breathes, quiet in the murky dark. When Dave flicks the lightswitch, Dirk has to glare behind his shades, teeth clenched for the duration of his adjustment. ‘What time is it?’ He grimaces a little harder. ‘What a dumb fucking question. We’re -’

‘-On a meteor, drifting through space,’ Dave finishes, pulling up a chair and sweeping a few pieces of metal out of the way, like they mean nothing (like Dirk hasn’t spent the better part of two days trying to make them mean something). ‘It’s half past go-the-fuck-to-sleep o’clock, dude. It’s a quarter to ‘you look like shit’. It’s-’

‘Bro,’ Dirk says, in a tone that isn’t quite as stoic as usual, and Dave clams up. They have a sweet little groove going at the moment -- ever since they talked things out, they’ve been twisting in tandem, a machine so fuckin’ sick it doesn’t even need oiling. They’re the rhyming words of the sickest bar this side of the apocalypse. They’re either end of a metronome. They’re Striders, for fuck’s sake. 

Dave leans his head on the crook of his elbow, flat on the workbench. He (poorly) stifles a yawn. ‘Seriously, man. How long have you been holed up in here? You’re, like, drenched in shit. It’s nasty as hell. Not in a good way, either, like some mechanic working tirelessly to save his spaceship from the endless caverns of a dead planet. Like, you just look bad.’ 

Dirk takes a look at his grease-stained hands, curses the callouses on them to the old husk of Dave’s Earth and back. ‘A day or two.’

Dave whistles, low. ‘Shit.’

‘It’s not that bad. When I made him the stupid scrumbot, I was up working for almost a week. It was-’

The expression on Dave’s face cuts him off long before his own brain has the sense to. Shit, indeed. He says as much.

‘You’re making Jake something?’

He hadn’t specified, but Dirk supposes he doesn’t need to. The bent and singed scraps in front of him look very ugly in the light. ‘I’m trying to, I think. I keep running out of steam, which is very fucking stupid. You’d think I would know what to do when faced with a room full of robotic parts and pretty much all the fucking time in the world, but, you know something, Dave? I’m stumped. Completely and utterly goddamn stumped. Stumped out of my fucking brains.’ 

There’s a quiet that feels very heavy. Dirk doesn’t look up, and Dave doesn’t move for a long while.

‘You want me to appearify you a coffee?’ Dave asks eventually, and he blinks his huge red eyes like he’s actually bothered about the answer, and Dirk feels very much like he can’t breathe on this meteor anymore, like space is compressing him into a tiny little ball, like all his worst traits are surviving the squash. Fuck. Fuck, this sucks. He’s suddenly very thankful for his shades. 

‘Yeah. Yeah, thanks.’

Dave gets up, pats Dirk’s shoulder a little awkwardly (like he’s worried that Dirk’s going to bite him, or something) (but that’s fair, honestly), and vanishes to acquire two cups of extremely shitty coffee. Good. Every appendage Dirk happens to be able to feel at the moment is shaking at a different frequency. He’s a radio turned to a station of static, buzzing away in his own brain. Almost against his own will, Dirk rests his head against the worktable and closes his eyes. 

When he dozes, he dreams that, somewhere on Derse, a fire is engulfing a forest. He panics until he realises that he is holding a match. 

--

The next morning, Dirk’s coffee is undrinkable. Literally. The film atop the drink has solidified into a kind of gelatinous mass, and Dirk has to kind of fight it out of the cup in order to rinse it out. It’s annoying, and not how he wants to be spending his time, but it makes for an easy life, and he’s found himself craving a little bit of simplicity recently. 

Dave doesn’t mention the previous night, even though it must have been real fucking annoying to force that moronic machine to make two cups of sludge and carry them back before they grew skin only to find the second party snoring like a particularly old walrus, anime glasses askew. Dirk feels a surge of something strong for his fellow Strider, though he doesn’t label it just yet. Neither of them are ready for something like that.

Roxy greets him with a smile he feels somewhere in his hippocampus, sharp and hot. He nods back, has to keep himself from scanning the rest of the faces in the room. Instead, he sits by his friend, steals the first edible thing he sees on her plate and stuffs it into his mouth before she can snatch it back from him. With Roxy, things are certainly more painless than they could be (that is to say, he’s still trying to teach himself to look Jane in the eye. That is to say, Jake is not one of the faces in the room). He can sit shoulder to shoulder with her and across from Rose and know that he’s going to do better today. 

From the doorway, Dave, who’s ushering the Mayor forward by their tiny shoulders, offers an expression that edges on unreadable. Dirk reads it, considers, gives it a five star review on Troll Goodreads and places an order for the sequel. Instead of a totally kickass and not-money-grabbing version two of a brotherly half-smile, the Mayor skitters over and delivers a dusty bottle of orange soda. 

As Dirk twists off the cap, Jake and John join the group. His hands are too occupied to go white knuckled. He’s too busy thinking about building public transport for Can Town to choke on his first mouthful of Fanta. That’s progress.

It’s when he’s ready to go that the paranoia kicks in -- Jake has robbed him of his indifferent exit. If he gets up and leaves now, it’ll seem like he can’t wait to get out of any room Jake has entered. If he hangs around, it’ll look like he’s desperate to linger, like some sort of English-specific creep that gets his rocks off by lurking in the shadows and watching Jake do things. Dirk’s throat starts to close up, the way it does when he doesn’t know what to do. 

He has to stress that this isn’t about Jake, or the fact that he still loves Jake (and probably always will), it’s about the feeling he’s getting in his head -- his entire head, behind his nose and between his teeth and curling through his eye sockets -- the feeling of being pulled apart, losing his grip on something. It’s the feeling he gets when he stops paying attention to his dreamself, but tenfold, twentyfold, fuckzillionfold; he’s somewhere between two places, stuck fast, anchorless. 

He is, in fact, totally fucked. 

Okay, that’s an exaggeration. He’s just unsure. It’s a new feeling, and one he’s not fond of at that. 

He stands up. No eyes follow him. His shoulders don’t relax. 

Dirk finds himself en route to the lab. 

--

‘You still in here, Bro?’

‘Yeah. Hey.’ 

Dave pushes open the lab door with a little more uncertainty this time. Dirk doesn’t blame him. It must look to Dave like he’d regressed straight back to making mindfuck-bots after the heart-to-heart that never was.

‘What’re you doing?’

‘Finishing something up. Check this out.’

Dave sits obediently (that rubs Dirk the wrong way, but there’s time for that later), blank expression the perfect canvas on which Dirk gets to throw his latest creation. 

‘It only took me a few hours,’ he hears himself saying, as if he needs to justify doing something he enjoys, ‘so it’s not perfect, but I think it’s pretty cool.’ 

‘Just show me,’ Dave says, and Dirk nods. Right. Showing. 

The small tin train blows a harmless puff of warm air before it starts to worm its way around the track, weaving, silver and snakelike, along the bends Dirk had carved from the shards and scraps of his last effort. 

Dave can’t help but grin as he watches the carriages roll by. ‘Dude, sick.’

Dirk shakes his head. ‘Look in the windows, bro.’ 

‘You’re kidding me,’ Dave breathes, pushing himself out of his seat and kneeling hurriedly by the still-moving train. ‘Shit. Awesome. You even got John’s vacant fuckin’ expression. Wow, who’s that kid sat next to John? He’s hot as Hell, dude. Smokin’ as all the irons after a blacksmith pulls them from the fire with his fuckin’ catcher’s mitt bare ass hands. Hey, who’s that? Must be the cool kid’s ecto-brother. They got similar badass shades on. They’re taking this train to Biznasty City, population three, Mayor one.’ 

‘No, dude, they’re coming from Biznasty City. This is the train to-’

Dave’s mouth drops open, a soft little ‘o’ of surprise. ‘Can Town,’ he breathes, and Dirk nods.

‘You know it.’

‘This is awesome, Bro.’ Dave hovers for a second, and Dirk knows (almost instinctively) that this is where good brothers would hug, but they both seem to baulk at the last second, like wary horses sensing a storm. It’s alright. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

Dave grins, effectively waving away the awkward air. ‘You should show everyone else. We’ll move it to Can Town to show the Mayor. The little dude’s gonna straignt up fucking flip.’ 

Dirk nods, lets his brain bounce against his skill a few times. He feels like a car ornament. ‘Yeah. That was the plan.’

‘You should show him.’

‘I know. I will.’

‘In the morning?’

‘Yeah. I think so.’

Dave nods. Now they look like matching car ornaments. ‘Cool. You should get some sleep, Bro. You still kinda look like shit.’

They smile, quiet, tentative. 

‘See ya,’ Dirk says to the back of Dave’s head, and stops the train with a flick of a switch. Once the wheels stop turning, he takes up Dave’s position, squints through the tiny windows at the figurines sat inside the carriage. It’s the best replica he could manage, pieced together from fragments of pictures and logical guesses. The mechanics of the room itself don’t matter all that much. 

What matters is the miniature figurine of himself, sat serenely next to the figurine of a grinning Jake E.nglish. 

For some reason, Jake’s smile had been easy to recall, but almost impossible to recreate. 

The figurines don’t have history. The figurines aren’t even looking at each other. The figurines are vague, yet unconfusing, and, even if they are confusing, Dirk is going to be right here to clarify. Dirk is going to be the one to spread his hands in surrender, ask truce? and act like he could handle a refusal.

His finger lingers on the light switch. 

It’s not nearly enough, but it’s a start. 

Dirk turns off the light, takes himself to bed, and wakes up on Derse to the sound of rain.

[lizzybeth1986]

Quick Thoughts on TRR Book 3 Chapter 11

• Again, fam, I'm not entirely sure I'll have this QT out in time but I hope I will. My surgery has been fixed for next Thursday, and I'd like to finish whatever I can before I leave for hospital. It's going to be hard, but fingers crossed I can get it done.

Here is Part 2 of Chapter 11's Quick Thoughts once you're through with this one!

• I'm noticing a narrative pattern here! Whenever something devastating is happening right in front of us (like the two attacks in the palace) they immediately pick up from where they left off in the previous chapter, bring that portion to its dramatic conclusion, and then play the opening theme (in this case, it's the sad version of the TRR title track). They used a similar narrative format in Chapter 1 of this book.

• This is also the third time the sad TRR track plays in the book. The only time it was played sans the narrative style of Chapter 1 and Chapter 10's openings, was in Chapter 6, after the orchard at Applewood was burned. All at points of time when all hope seems to be lost, before our lead characters get up, dust themselves off, and resolve to keep going despite everything and everyone against them.

• It was pretty clear that Constantine would sacrifice his life in this chapter, given the way he was talking at the end of the last one. It's the kind of symbolic send-off one tends to write for a character one knows will die sooner than he anticipates. Which is why even though I'm kinda pissed that Leo comes now when everything seems safe, I understand why having him there is so important. In the narrative, Leo is an important part of the closure that comes before Constantine's demise.

•

A few notes on Constantine's demise:

1. He's right about one thing: it definitely is a better end for him. He dies a hero. Cordonia never finds out that he was going to die anyway. No one gets to know what he did to the future Queen/newest Duchess either. I'm still going to be unhappy about this because it's a way better end than the man deserves.

2. I know I would find it disturbing if the man who arranged for me to be harmed in multiple ways in his own house was hailed a hero during his funeral, with only me and a handful of other people knowing he had done, and without the option of ever opening up about who was really behind it. I don't know about you, but my MC Esther would definitely feel conflicted about that.

3. Also..."everything I did, it was for you...whether or not it was right". Sorry Constantine, but that's a load of bullshit. After all this time, this man is still making excuses just before he dies. Liam answered this brilliantly in the last book - Constantine had a choice. He always had a choice. There were other, better ways of getting the MC out of the competition if that was his goal but no, his mind went straight to privacy violations and assault.

4. Also, while he pledged to help us under pressure from Liam, the fact remains that the brunt of his actions were borne by other people. The MC's name was dragged into the mud and SHE had to run around and make all the effort of setting it right. Liam was forced into a loveless match that would have culminated in a disastrous marriage had Tariq not cooperated, and he had to work on figuring out who was behind this not knowing his own family was involved. In all this, Constantine did all the work of making his own home as unsafe for his guest as it could possibly get, and very little of the work in restoring her reputation in the eyes of all of Cordonia. Did he apologize? Sure he did. But that doesn't change a damned thing. It doesn't change the fact that he sowed evil and left it for other people to reap.

5. I find his last line to Liam quite poignant though. "You are Cordonia". That's a very loaded statement, and a very accurate one. And I think if there is anything that can keep Liam strong and carry him forward, it's that. No one in this book is as immersed in the culture, history and spirit of Cordonia as Liam is - which is why he makes the best king for the nation. Because he knows it intimately and cares for it, he knows what this country needs so it can heal. Even if it takes a while for Liam to realize that himself.

6. So long, old man.

• Title: Cold Fire. Kinda fitting, considering our tour has now moved to Lythikos, but the 'heat' of the tensions within the court have turned up several notches. It could also refer to that sick, sick burn Drake delivered to Madeleine today though 😂😂😂

• Alternative titles:

Drink What Everyone Else Is Drinking. Good For Health.

Drake Doesn't Need A Sword to Slay Assholes. Nor Does Olivia, Apparently.

@callmetippytumbles suggested a shorter and better alternative title to that one, and it's: Drake Roasts And Gets Roasted.

• I was hoping we would spend at least a chapter in the Capitol and, yknow, actually help Liam work through his grief, but nope. Flash-forward it is.

• Bastien is in hospital now, with injuries sustained from escorting people out of the palace, so Mara (who apparently hasn't been sleeping since the attack) is the one doing the debriefing on his behalf.

• It's clear to Liam and our friends NOW that whoever has been conspiring against us was a part of the Unity Tour and working from the inside (bruh, I could have told you that long ago). I'm thinking now that if Neville is part of this plan, perhaps the duel was meant to serve as a distraction so arrangements could be made within the time that the entire court was out in the courtyard. Just a theory.

• This was also alluded to in Perfect Match, when one of Nadia's alternative identities is Steel, a guest in the 'royal's tour who is actually an assassin.

•

This is perhaps the closest we get to Liam confessing how much all this has been affecting him, and sadly enough, he doesn't have enough time to really work through his grief. The suggestion to continue to Lythikos and get their answers there comes from Liam, and he speaks of it as something Constantine would have wanted. It isn't entirely healthy, but I think this is the way Liam has been brought up and it's hard for him to give himself time to be vulnerable, to give himself the space to grieve properly. Because now more than ever he has an entire country depending on him, and the royal family is known for projecting displays of strength and stoicism even if they don't feel it. It's not a good way of working through one's issues, but it's probably the only way Liam knows to deal with his trauma. I feel like in a lot of ways he's reliving especially the assassination attempt that happened earlier, but worse because someone he loved actually died this time. I'd definitely see some signs of PTSD at work here, even if it's suppressed. Particularly given that he speaks of feeling empty.

•

Waitaminute...are you telling me that Esther, the future Queen of Cordonia, is going to attend a Ball, her fiancé's father's funeral, a meeting, and an entire trip to Lythikos in this fever dream of a costume???

Fine. Fine, Esther, I give up. Fanta bottle inspired Stephanie Seymour gown it is 🙄

• What Madeleine says about the effect the MC has (particularly if the MC chooses all the right options during the tour) on people is very very similar to the last thing Constantine said before he died:

I'm guessing in a lot of ways this is seen as the MC's personal victory. Constantine and Madeleine were the two people who believed least that the MC had anything of value to give if she became Queen or a person of power in Cordonian politics. It was a long hard road to achieving this level of confidence even in her naysayers, so in a lot of ways the MC now truly is a unifying factor. Which makes me wonder what they say if you do a gag-run instead where the MC fails miserably during the tour. I know @boneandfur is doing such a playthrough as of now, but I don't know exactly if Madeleine and Constantine's words to her change in such an eventuality.

•

OMG. The design team is KILLING IT with the OOTD this week! It's gorgeous, and it tells us plenty about the Lythikos duchy and the Nevrakis House! For those of you who haven't read my House Sigils essay, I theorized that red was one of the house tinctures (colours), and that the sigil was either a sword or a spider. The flaming sword is attached to the gown (possibly as a brooch pin). @i-dream-so-i-write and I discussed this, and it was she who pointed out that Diavolos signature weapon was the flaming sword, as can be seen from the above picture. I'm not sure which metallic colour would form the second colour/tincture, but evidence seems to be learning more towards silver (there is a little gold on the brooch-sword, so it could be either). Tldr: I love this gown. It has that grace and effortless style that I've come to associate with Nevrakis fashion.

• Olivia is wearing the gown she wore for her Coronation. Come to think of it, the Scarlet Duchess moniker that Olivia got would refer to way more than her fashion. Given that it's one of her house colours and she was proud to be a Nevrakis especially at the time, Scarlet Duchess would mean so much to her. So much.

• So we're seated in the front and served fresh, piping hot food. SWEET! XD This time we get to order stuff. Maxwell gets fondue, Hana gets glazed salmon and Drake has ordered for ribs.

• Olivia: I had to request a few changes for your more...rustic palette.

Drake: Are you expecting a thanks? Because you're not getting one.

You're in for the meal of your life, Walker 😂

•

If you've never liked Olivia at all before? This scene in reason enough 😂😂😂

• Lucretia drops by to make more heavy hints about marriage prospects for Olivia (including relief that her niece wasn't scarred from rubble. How...caring).

• Olivia and Liam then perform the opening dance (like they did during the social season) and Liam takes this opportunity to find out what she knows. He gets little, beyond her worries about having to marry someone Lucretia will pick for her. Hana points out that perhaps "one has to wonder who Lucretia wants Olivia to marry". Good question.

• But before that, Kiara comes up to the MC to tell her she will be withdrawing from court after the Winter Festival ends. Kiara's argument is sound - she had already extended her public support and seems to be attending the wedding. But now is a dangerous time to be a part of the court, and Kiara's doing what she can to stay safe. Remember, she was the only noblewoman in court injured during the attack at Homecoming Ball, a fact that was given hardly a minute of consideration before the MC "convinced" her to join them again.

• Hana mentions that perhaps they can speak to her before she returns. I hope this means we will FINALLY address what happened to Kiara and look into possible - very valid - concerns about her safety. This is something we SHOULD have been talking about when we meet her at Castelserraillian, but no. PB decided to create a whole new character instead just so Kiara wouldn't get the attention she deserved as a character.

• Then again, she is seen as a suspect in a way none of the other court ladies (besides Olivia, and she's only viewed as such because of her family history) are. Sigh. The MC gets the option to speculate that she "knows something" and Drake gets to answer that "we must suspect everyone". DRAKE. Who ALSO got wounded at the same Ball that she was wounded in. Ugh. I mean I shouldn't be surprised considering he gets angry about people not supporting Liam barely hours after he got shot, but he's friends with the King. Kiara is not, and if she gets wounded again wouldn't it be their fault for not addressing the concerns she and her family had in the first place? Apparently Penelope's and Madeleine's concerns should be given ample consideration, but Kiara? Kiara who?? Oh right, Penelope's love interest's sister 😠 While we're at it, let's just make her suspicious for no reason!

• CONGRATULATIONS MAXWELL STANS on getting your first character development scene! There isn't a lot of overt character development but the scene does show us how observant and resourceful Maxwell is, pointing out the hole in the armoury wall that will allow us to overhear people's conversations and give us a better idea of who we should suspect. It does this while still establishing him as goofy, fun-living and always ready to live life king-size.

• Maxwell and the MC engage in what is known in European folklore as an apple-shot (Apfelschuss in German. The most popular folk tale involving this feat of archery is that of William Tell, a Swiss folk hero, who was ordered to shoot an apple from the top of his son's head by a cruel nobleman named Albrecht Gessler. Thankfully, he succeeded).

• Oooh now comes my favourite part: the weapons!

• This is an amazing Easter Egg in two ways if you're a TCaTF fan. One is that it reminds me SO MUCH of when Val gets to be the narrator, which is ALWAYS fun! Case in point are the names she gives the Iron Empire soldiers at Ennan: Pointy, Mr Fancy, Birdface, Grumpy and That Other Guy. Here, the MC gives names to all the weapons.

• So if you're someone who has played TCaTF and forgotten the weapons, no problem! I'm here to list out what these weapons are actually called, where they originated from and how Kenna (if the reader pays) gets them!

• The Weirdly Fancy Dagger is the Black Asps Dagger (which I think might be venom-tipped, like Adder's Fang) which Raydan gets from a Black Asp agent when he is imprisoned under Azura's orders. I see this weapon as being associated most with Abanthus/Lythikos in this list of weapons, because it comes from Adder's team of Lykos spies and assassins, and eventually (if Kenna chooses so) Adder can get to rule over this kingdom either alone or alongside Princess Zenobia (or not at all).

The Dragon Face Hammer! is actually the famous Wave Hammer, made by Kailani Keawe of Ebrimel - a fierce warrior and a skilled craftswoman - from Heart Oak Wood sneaked in from Thorngate. Heart Oak has all the appearance of wood with all the strength of metal, and makes for an amazing secret weapon.

The Ram Head Thing is Crown Guardian Leon Stirling's signature weapon - The Ram's Head Mace. This is a weapon clearly associated with Stormholt as Queen Adriana bequeathed it to him. Leon gets to pass it down to Kenna upon his death, if she so chooses. This mace is strong enough to crush armour, and Leon won the tournament at Ducitora with it before Azura killed him.

The Skull...Flail? is Val Greaves' signature weapon, The Deadman's Flail, which is powerful enough to crush armour. Kenna can use this weapon in her fight against Severin Cale, Leader of the Mercenaries. Val herself uses it often in battle.

The polo mallet is just...there.

• Ooh finally! It's time to investigative.

1. Madeleine approaching a man the MC has rejected in favour of her current fiancé. If you're marrying Liam, this man is Drake and he gets to roast Madeleine like she's never been roasted before ("Liam does get what he wants. That means he also gets to throw away what he doesn't want"). If you're marrying Drake, Hana or Maxwell, she is talking to Liam, addressing the king-sized elephant in the room. Liam doesn't pull any extra punches - he just looks extra annoyed and tells her he's "had other matters to attend to". It may seem like a weak defense in comparison to Drake's explosive comeback, but to be fair the man is going through some crazy shit here, and I don't think anyone in that state can actually expand enough thought to form a rebuttal at all. I doubt he'd have either the inclination or energy to actually respond with more than "I've had other matters to attend to". It's particularly awkward if your LI is Maxwell because he is standing right next to you hearing all this, but that hardly reflects in his dialogue. Basically, I view this sequence as telling us more about Madeleine than about the men: she may have changed a tiny bit, but she's still just a huge shit-stirrer.

Possibly, this might be set up for the apology that will ensue if we save Madeleine's backstabbing ass next chapter. It'll be something along the lines of "oh forgive me, I was so wrong, what I did was so wrong, I'll never do that again" etc etc yadda yadda getouttamyfaceyoufakeassbitch.

Also, I believe that the part of the reason Drake delivered that zinger to Madeleine was because he was still stinging from Olivia's burn at dinner 😂

2. While there are very few differences between the first and last conversations, the second conversation changes drastically depending on who your LI is.

a. If your LI is Liam, Hakim comes up to Liam, gives him his condolences for Constantine's death, and then comments positively on Esther and the upcoming wedding, which leads to a discussion between the MC and Maxwell about wedding preparations. I think this is mostly because Kiara never really interacts with Liam, so they got Hakim to do the honors. Over here though, Hakim and Liam's conversation about the wedding forms only a tiny portion of the conversation, as opposed to the entire thing.

b. If your LI is Hana, Kiara and Hana have a lovely, lighthearted conversation about the latter's upcoming wedding. Kiara expresses great happiness at Hana getting married to the MC, and Hana confesses to being so nervous she constantly dreams about it. I love the way Hana and Kiara's friendship is written here: how open Hana is with Kiara and how encouraging and supportive Kiara is towards Hana. I think it's so beautiful to see 😭

c. If your LI is Maxwell? It's Hana and Kiara again, this time speculating what the MC's wedding to Maxwell will be like. Kiara confesses that she plans to skip a cousin's reception on the same day by pretending to be ill, just so she can attend their reception instead. Together they discuss what surprises the Beaumonts might spring during the reception - from dance-offs to ball pits to hot air balloons filled with kittens. Here too, it's a lovely moment - two of the smartest court members having fun talking about weddings.

d. If your LI is Drake, Kiara talks to him instead. First about the offerings at the dessert buffet, then about the wedding. Kiara is overly chirpy and happy and excited about the wedding, and Drake tenses up when she turns the topic towards the wedding preparations, because those are "complicated". Of course, if you do the LI scene with him at the ice palace, you will find out that he doesn't like talking about it because he would rather keep things simple and focus on his bride, and the nobility is all about perfection and elaborate preparations. Very possibly the Kiara-Drake conversation was written this way as a lead-up to his conversation with the MC at the snow palace. (and perhaps also to dissuade people who would like to ship Drake and Kiara, especially given the backlash Kiara got from fans just for having a crush on the man).

The main focus of this conversation of course is to give out the message that the MC's upcoming wedding is something that still excites people, and that even people afraid of staying in court don't want to miss it.

3. The third conversation between Olivia and Lucretia is given the suspicious sounding music from ES, and begins with Lucretia trying to find out more about the MC. Olivia doesn't tell her much beyond what everyone else knows, and Lucretia leaves her with this cryptic statement:

I feel we're going to have a Big Reveal about what actually happened to the Nevrakises and whether they really were traitors or not.

• With that we finish our little stint at investigation, and in comes our next chance to spend diamonds on our respective LIs!

• I love how Liam's outdoor kink has been referenced two chapters in a row now 😂

•

(Screenshots: @kennaxval for Hana, @mariamatsuo for Drake and the Vika Avey YouTube channel for Maxwell).

Again, like the previous scene, the LIs have their own individual stamp over their ice palace scene. The beauty of it is not just that they all seem different in the way they make love to the MC, but that their reactions to the ice palace itself vary from LI to LI.

Liam gives us a legend. He tells us about the prevalent pre-wedding tradition in Lythikos, where an engaged couple would have their village build them an ice palace the following winter. Kind of like a seasonal barn-raising, which also involves a community coming together to build something for the couple. It says plenty about Lythikos and its people (I won't elaborate because at some point I'm going to be writing essays again). But it also confirms for us how immersed in Cordonian culture Liam is, and how much his Queen will learn when she is with him.

Hana gives us a fairytale. She tells us a story her mother used to read to her at night, about a frozen kingdom, an ice palace and a princess with a frozen heart, which thawed the moment she found true love. The fairytale Hana tells us bears similarities to Hans Christian Andersen's "The Snow Queen", and more to the film it inspired, Frozen. But snow maidens are a staple of certain European cultures (particularly Norwegian and Slavic legend), so it could be a mix of many stories. It's fitting that Hana relates the ice palace to a story, connected as she is to literature and folklore and romance. In a lot of ways, hidden beneath the fable of the ice princess is Hana's own story.

Drake gives us a memory. As a follow-through to the conversation between him and Kiara in Maxwell's armoury scene if the reader bought it (unbeknownst to him, because he doesn't know the MC was overhearing them) he gets to be more open about not being very interested in planning weddings. His ideal would have been to take his bride to his mother's ranch in Texas for a wedding very reminiscent of his parents' union, and were Cordonia not in this condition that's exactly what he would have done. It's very like Drake, whose most powerful emotional associations are connected to his once-happy childhood and his memories of his parents, particularly his father.

Maxwell gives us an gift, made with his own hands. When he brings the MC to the ice palace, he suggests creating ice sculptures, and both make one of each other. It's a sweet, funny and affectionate scene, with both of them exchanging cute banter about Maxwell's "secret affair" with "Ice MC" and his tongue getting stuck in ice while pretending to kiss her 😂 It's very Maxwell. He's very hands-on, likes to do fun things, likes to entertain. And that's exactly the vibe I'm getting here.

The love scenes are tender and sweet and hot, and I think each of these scenes is worth the diamonds you'll spend. The scenes are tailored perfectly to fit the personalities of each LI. This is exactly what I hoped to see with scenes like the bathtub scene at the beginning of the book, and the spa scene. If they continue with this kind of quality content going forward, then I'm really really glad they took that hiatus.

• Okay we're back to the ballroom now. With Madeleine super drunk on...um...some pineapple drink.

• Madeleine is the only person to have the pineapple drink, and she seems to have an affinity for pineapple's since Maxwell offered her that Pineapple Paradise Punch in Fydelia. Everyone else is drinking Lythikos Nog.

• Madeleine collapses in the middle of Olivia's speech!

• The security detail uses "Code Locusta" to refer to poisons. Which is fitting, because Locusta was a very notorious maker of poisons during the time of Claudius and Nero (around AD 54 was when she contributed to the assassination of Emperor Claudius, and his son Brittanicus a year later). She was not only someone who was an expert on poisons and hired for that purpose, but also someone who used her skills to bring down royalty at the behest of their enemies. This could be a bit of a stretch, but I think this ties in symbolically with the plot of the movie scene in Liam's playthrough, where the enemy of the throne is someone who also can claim to be a royal. Especially considering poisons have been used to kill Liam's mother, and now to kill a supporter of the Crown and the MC, and a member of a very powerful Cordonian noble house. And yet...the other noble house - the Nevrakis family of Lythikos - stays untouched.

• The last time I recall "Locusta" being used in literature was in Alexandre Dumas' (père) The Count of Monte Cristo. A chapter of this book, in which a woman attempts to poison her stepdaughter so the family fortune could be passed on to her son, was titled Locusta as well.

• Something is rotten in the state of Denmark, folks. Or should I say, in the Kingdom of. Cordonia?

• Can I just say I love the parallels between Lythikos in Book 1 and now? We learned a little about Olivia's past in passing from Liam here, and now it will hit us in full force in the form of Lucretia. Constantine didn't seem to be in Lythikos, and returned to tell Liam that he was going to die soon, and now we visit the same estate after he has given his life to save his son.

Olivia gave us the worst place and the worst treatment then, and the best now. We convinced Kiara to support us in this very ballroom, and perhaps we might have to do so now too. It was here that Madeleine proudly claimed she was neither unrefined or insecure...but now she doesn't care about propriety.

I recall it was here for the first time that Maxwell stans were given the chance to express affection towards him, and it's here that they now get his first character development scene in Book 3. Most of all...it was here that the initial 3 LIs started to open up to us, in different ways, (if we paid) and now we return...an engaged couple - shedding all our layers and keeping each other warm in the cold (again, if we pay). I have many fond memories of Lythikos, and this chapter definitely brought me back there xD

• Tumblr isn't allowing me to write further for this post, so I will be writing my theories and who I believe is involved in the next post.

[magic5ball]

Jurassic Park 4: Doki Idol Live Festival!

The two velociraptors stood outside a pastel colored town house in Hokkaido prefecture, Japan. If any passerbys thought that was weird, they certainly didn’t show it. Probably because the raptors were wearing fedoras and fake mustaches, so they looked like humans. Also they had guns. Very cool, very intimidating mobster guns. A tommy gun and a sawed-off shotgun, respectively.

You needed guns, to survive Shinzo Abe’s little empire of vice and socialized medical care.

“So this is the place, huh?” muttered the velociraptor carrying the sawed-off shotgun. His thick Brooklyn accent hung in the air like concrete. “Kinda… frillier than I was expecting.”

“It better be.” Replied his companion, who sounded like your racist conservative uncle trying to impersonate that one cool guy from ‘The Godfather’ (You know, the one with the mustache who was played by Robert de Niro). “We hadda kill a whole lotta people to get this hellhole.”

Sawed-off shotgun licked his non-existent lizard lips

“But hey. That airplane stewardess tasted mighty fine goin-“

“Oh, for f*ck’s sake, would ya stop thinkin’ with your stomach and help me with this f*ckin’ knob!” cried tommy gun, trying to work the doorknob best he could with his raptor claws, which, in all honesty, wasn’t much, because raptor claws are terrible at operating things meant for human fingers. Little did he know, the door was a ‘pull’, not a ‘push.

At least he didn’t have to wait long before someone unlocked the door from the other side: another velociraptor, this one a bit on the short side. And p!ssed. Very, very p!ssed. You could tell he was the cool one because he wore an eyepatch over one eye. An eyepatch with a Captain Underpants logo on it.

“Didn’t your parent’s ever teach you idiots about using the doorbell?! I was just about to enjoy lunch with my beautiful wife and you-!“

He paused, recognizing the two figures facing him.

“Well, well, well” Said tommy gun, cocking his weapon “If it isn’t SWEET JOHN HAMMOND’S BALLSACK WHAT THE F*CK AM I LOOKING AT?!”

For the cool raptor was dressed in a gothic Lolita maid outfit, complete with a bonnet and penny loafers. Under his arm he carried a human sized pillow depicting what appeared to be a blonde floozy with massive tits.

“Oh this? This is Mami Tomoe, my beautiful wife.”

“WHAT THE F*CK!?!?” Tommy gun pulled out a flask off orange Fanta from his butthole and drank the whole thing in one go. He did NOT have time for this homosexual weeaboo nonsense! Still, he and shotgun hadn’t left a mountain of corpses the exact height and width as Mt. Fuji behind them. Too many to go back to Isla Nublar empty handed. Er, clawed. Because they were dinosaurs. Who have claws.

Shotgun took a deep breath. “What the Boss means to say is, ‘May we take refuge in this fine establishment?’”

Cool raptor opened his mouth to reveal a pistol he’d hidden there. And by hidden I mean replaced his tongue with it.

“You know, for all crap you guys used to give me in the past, I oughta pump you full of lead right here and now. Buuutttt… the lady of the house is present, and I’m not in the mood to create more work on her end. So come on in! You’re just in time for lunch.”

Lest they attract unneeded attention, the three dinosaurs hopped inside.

.   .   .

Lunch was omurice boba tea with a bottle of teriyaki sauce on the side. It was just boba tea, but the boba had been replaced by omurice because F-Bomb hated the flavor of boba, which he likened to rabbit crap. The teriyaki sauce was teriyaki sauce.

It was the most racist thing shotgun had ever eaten.

“Well, now that you jerks have gotten a taste of my sloppy seconds, I suppose some introductions are in order. You’ve already met my lovely wife” Cool raptor gestured to the body pillow seated next to him “So that leaves you two. Mami, meet A-Hole and D-Bag. A-Hole’s got the tommy gun, D-Bag is ridin’ her sawed off shotgun, as always. They’re old… acquaintances of mine.”

“He.” Corrected D-Bag. “I’ve been using he/him pronouns six months now.”

“Well that’s an improvement. Now instead of bein’ the Boss’ side B!tch literally, you’re just his b!tch figuratively!”

“Well screw you too, F-Bomb!” laughed the boss. “An’ speakin’ of screwing, what’s with the fruity get up? You a prostitute now or something?”

“Even better! This might surprise you, but I’ve got legitimate work now. This here’s my uniform, my uniform for MILF TIDDIES!”

A-Hole chugged his entire bottle of teriyaki sauce in one go, lest his mind implode from the sheer stupidity of that sentence.

“The Hell’s a milf tiddie!?”

“Only the best freakin’ maid café in Hoikaido, hookers!”

He gestured to a wall, covered in hundreds of photos of cute floozies dressed like they were attending a vampire’s funeral. Among them was a photo of F-Bomb in his drag, serving a deep fried hot dog to some elderly Japanese dude.

“As you can see, yours truly is serving Japan’s national desert to none other than 57th Prime Minister of Japan Shinzo Abe!”

“Hold it up. Youse been hobnobbing it with politicians?!”

“I wish! You’re thinking of Shinzo Abe, 57th Prime Minister of Japan. This guy is his twin brother. Still pretty sweet though. We DID win a Grammy for that, after all.”

A-Holes eyes bulged out of his scaly raptor head.

“YOUSE WON A GRAMMY FOR THAT?!”

“Dang right! Milf Tiddies has won sixteen Grammys since I started working there!” He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. A very special piece of paper, if the six holes punched into it were any indication. “Did you know that if you win ten Grammys in a row, they give you a free orphan? That’s how the wife and I got our glorious daughter, Lil’ Nagisa!”

F-Bomb pulled a faded photo out of his wallet. A photo showing himself, his pillow wife, and a smaller body pillow of a ten-year-old moeblob wearing a Green Bay Packers cheesehead helmet.

“So youse couldn’t even conceive your own kid?” Inquired D-Bag sexily. He was munching his omurice slowly, so F-Bomb knew he was being serious.

“Are you implying I have sex with my own wife, you sick freak?! I’m a weeaboo, not some degenerate anime fanboy! Get it straight!” He instinctively cocked the pistol in his throat. It was awesome as hell.

In response, D-Bag pumped his shotgun. Loudly.

“Permission to put the sick freak out of his misery, Boss?”

“Firstly, don’t call me Boss when we’re not having anal sex. Second, no can do, my spicy lover. We need F-Bomb alive.”

F-Bomb heard all of this even though A-Hole whispered it, but he pretended not to make A-Hole feel clever.

D-Bag mumbled about how the Boss was lucky he was so mind blowing in the sack, otherwise he would have left the relationship long ago. The sack in this case being a really kinky sex dungeon. Like really kinky. So kinky even Donald Trump wouldn’t go within a mile of it. D-Bag had almost died of autoerotic asphyxiation more times than I’ve gone to the bathroom in my lifetime. That’s why he was the smartest dinosaur out of the three of them. Now where was I again?

Anyway, F-Bomb interrogated

“Alright guys, what’s the deal? I know folks who come to this socialized medical care infested hellhole, and they don’t come here just to eat omurice boba tea. You WANT me for something.”

He cocked his mouth-pistol again. Sparks flew all over the carpet, which was made of alpaca fur so it didn’t catch fire.

A-Hole scandalously kept his cool.

“It’s about Isla Nublar.”

The second those words left A-Hole’s lips, F-Bomb escorted his wife out of the kitchen, but leaned her against the kitchen door, because that’s what she would have wanted.

“Well what about it? I told ya guys, I’m done with that dump.”

“They’re puttin’ the screws on us, F-Bomb. Making us pay for eating those tourists back in the nineties.”

“And what makes you think I care? Like I said, I’m done with that place. I got a wife and kid now.”

“But F-Bomb, doesn’t the Park mean ANYTHING to ya!? What about the time we ate that park ranger that called you a girl? ‘Better than sex’ I recall you saying.”

“Nice try, but I’m not exactly in the mood to get misgendered again. Don’t you guys got any ideas that don’t involve me?”

“As a matter of fact, yours truly had this really spectacular one!”

D-Bag did a hand gesture wherein he constantly crossed his dinosaur claws across his throat rapidly in quick succession. A-Hole, being very smart, knew this meant he should continue, loudly enough so that everyone in the prefecture could hear.

“It was called ‘Trump Ballz’. We’d harvest Donald Trump’s testicles, see, and sell them to the highest bidder, so they could do whatever people do with lopped off testicles. I’m not one to judge. It was a terrific idea. I know because when I told my best friend Donald Trump about it, he said, ‘A-Hole, this is an incredible idea. Absolutely terrific! This is probably the best idea in America! You are very smart, very intelligent dinosaur! I oughta buy you a prostitute!’ Of course, we didn’t realize that Trump’s ballz don’t grow back when you lop them off. Did you know that by the way? Human testicles don’t grow back-“

F-Bomb cocked the pistol inside his throat gain, getting the Boss to shut up. This was probably the most heroic thing anyone had ever done in the history of the universe. He also asked a question:

“SO WHAT THE HECK DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH ME?!”

A-Hole vomited a severed arm and a pamphlet onto the table.

“EVERYTHING, ya WEEB trash!”

The pamphlet was for something called the Doki Idol Live Fest- DILF, for short. F-Bomb was no stranger to the DILF, but they had parted ways years ago. Six, to be exact, when he had buried Nico Yazawa’s still screaming corpse by the side of the highway. And neither was he stranger to the prize.

It looked like a beer and soda drinking baseball cap, but only to complete idiots who didn’t know crap about the Idol Life.

And F-Bomb wasn’t one of those people, er dinosaurs.

“THE MCGUFFIN OF SIN?!”

“Dam* straight! And like it or not, youse the only one with enough idol know-how to help us win it! Thing’s worth, like, a zillion dollars.”

A zillion in this case was equivalent to half a million. Still, isn’t that impressive?

F-Bomb stuck his nose in his omurice and snorted, a common intimidation tactic among velociraptors. I know because I read  it in the Scientific American.

“Sorry, guys, but even with that on the line, no can do. I’m DONE with the Idol Life, any I’m not letting you filthy casuals drag me back in.” He cocked the pistol in his throat. “NOW SCRAM!”

A-Hole and D-Bag jumped out a window, so they could get the jump on a feral dog humping its’ owner. Nobody realized they were dinosaurs because of their fake mustaches, so it looked like a pair of mobsters were eating a puppy.

When they were gone, F-Bomb pranced to the bathroom, which was filled with plush alpacas he had collected over the years. So many, in fact, the bathroom did not meet OSHA compliance. Which was why F-Bomb had made it an independent nation state, only to realize that OSHA didn’t apply to him anyway, since he lived in Japan.

He had felt really stupid after that, but at least he got his own country out of it.

Anyway, he vomited sixteen liters of blood into the sink, for F-Bomb had a secret: he was dying. Back when he was a fetus in an egg in a lab on some island in the Caribean, he’d become addicted to the illegal street drug known as WEEB, and frequent use had poisoned his lungs. The doctors had given him Socialized Medical Care and four more years to live. The WEEB had taken eighty years off his life. Socialized Medical Care had borrowed his lawnmower and never given it back.

But F-Bomb also had a dream: he and his wife were going to build their own maid café, and it would be even better than MILF Tiddies. He’d already picked a title: DILF Tiddies, and it was going to be the greatest food-selling establishment in the history of Japan. Omurice boba tea was going to go global. But he’d never get the funds on time, not on his meager salary. Unless…

His beautiful wife greeted him as he exited the bathroom.

“Get a pen and some razor blades, sweetgums. I’ve got a letter to send.”

                                                     .   .   .

The message arrived in the neck of a mailman’s severed head. This is the traditional way velociraptors send letters to each other. I read it in a book.

D-Bag didn’t see the letter, but the look on A-Hole’s face told him everything.

“What’d I tell ya, D-Bag? Like I always say, when you’re dino you’re dino all the way, till youse dead in the ground or youse come out as gay!”

“Yeah, we really need to update those lyrics.”

End Chapter 1

[katrinawritesthings]

Onjongtae; very important questions; PG

when u wanna ask out one friend but u accidentally ask out two

“I am the date,” Jonghyun says. His hand with the purple corsage falls around Taemin’s waist, but the one with the peach flowers plays with Jinki’s tie.

“Technically, so am I,” Jinki says.

ao3

There he is.

There Jonghyun is.

Okay.

He’s there.

Standing by his locker.

Talking to Jinki.

He’s right there.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay okay okay.

“Okay,” Taemin breathes to himself. He takes several quick, deep breaths and strides over there purposely, hand clenched around the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. He’s got this. He can do this.

Jonghyun catches sight of him as he approaches and smiles wide and fuck, he’s so pretty, he’s so fucking gorgeous and beautiful and wonderful, fuck.

“Hey,” Jinki says, and “Hi,” Jonghyun smiles, and fuck. Taemin swallows thickly and smiles back as best as he can, lifting one hand in a short wave. He can do this. It’s simple. All he has to do is just. Throw it out there. Yeah.

“Hey, wanna go to the dance with me?” he asks quickly, probably a little bit too loudly. Jonghyun blinks, cocks his head to the side, looks at Jinki, points between himself and Jinki with a confused little finger. Jinki shrugs back. Taemin barely notices any of this because he’s not really processing anything right now at all. All he feels is hot.

“Um,” Jonghyun says. “Both of us?”

“Yes,” Taemin says immediately.

~

“Mmmh.” Taemin hums lowly, nuzzling it into Jonghyun’s neck and squeezing him close. He smells so nice.

He also squeaks at the squeeze, pushing at Taemin’s hands until Taemin lets him go with a soft laugh.

“Sorry,” Taemin mumbles. He scoots further back on Jonghyun’s couch so Jonghyun has more room to stand up, but Jonghyun just pats his hand and wiggles to lean back against his chest again. “You’re gonna get my suit all wrinkled,” Taemin says, poking Jonghyun’s sides.

“Do you care?” Jonghyun asks. He turns to cock a brow at Taemin and he is so close and so gorgeous and so lovely that Taemin has to look away. At least he’s stopped blushing every time Jonghyun looks at him, though. That’s something.

“Not particularly,” he says towards the ceiling. It’s his brother’s suit and it’s not like being extra fancy really matters for a high school homecoming dance anyway. The rumpled-dress-shirt-under-a-nice-jacket look is always in. Jonghyun isn’t even wearing the jacket; he just has the dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone and he still looks like a babe. Like always.

“Hey, I found them,” Jinki says then. He walks into Jonghyun’s living room with four little containers of fancy corsages. His suit is perfect and snazzy but Taemin doesn’t let that discourage him. He takes the two dark purple corsages that Jinki hands him and fumbles with them while Jinki focuses on his own light orange pair. He opens one and slips the cute little design onto his own wrist, then pops open the matching other and gently picks up Jonghyun’s hand to put it on for him.

“Ooh,” Jonghyun says. He wiggles around in Taemin’s lap until he’s sitting pretty over his thighs, left wrist held out daintily in front of him. “Thank you, my darling,” he chirps, and Taemin hisses out a sharp curse, burying his face in Jonghyun’s shoulder. Shit. He’s so fucking cute. “Oh, jeez,” Jonghyun sighs, and even when his laughter is directed at Taemin it’s fucking gorgeous. Taemin is so weak for him.

“Hey, I never asked,” Jonghyun says. Taemin feels his hand petting his hair, but more importantly, he feels the amused aura radiating from Jonghyun’s mischievously innocent tone. “Which one of us did you actually mean to ask out the other day?” he asks.

Taemin’s deep, steadying breaths turn into loud laughter, his arms squeezing Jonghyun close again. Holy shit.

“Well, obviously, it was me,” Jinki says matter-of-factly. Taemin giggles more as he looks up again. Jinki is kneeling on the floor in front of Jonghyun and fixing up the orange corsage on his wrist, but he’s also giving both of them the most amused little smile. Taemin shakes his head sheepishly. He guesses this teasing from the both of them isn’t entirely unwarranted. For the one that initiated a triple date he’s being just a tad bit biased.

“Yeah, obviously,” he agrees. He picks up Jonghyun’s other wrist, too fond to be embarrassed right now, and gently rolls on the purple corsage. Fixing the flowers up to be nice and pretty, he lifts Jonghyun’s hand to press his lips against the back of it and then to nuzzle his cheek into his palm with a happy sigh. “I‘m totally in love with Jinki, not you,” he says.

“Oh, of course,” Jonghyun grins back.

~

This is just… so good.

So, so good.

They’re in the back of the gym, not completely in the corner but half-hidden in the darkness behind some balloons and a stack of boxes decorated to be halfway fancy, and Taemin has Jonghyun pressed up against the wall with their lips moving slowly together.

They’re not really deep kisses, just some slow, lazy pecks, and they’re interrupted every now and again by giddy little giggles from the both of them. Taemin couldn’t be happier. He threads his fingers through Jonghyun’s dark hair, rubbing soft circles at the base of his skull to make him hum.

When a hand appears on his shoulder he jumps, guilty, turning around to apologize to whatever teacher caught them, but his panic dies in his chest when he realizes who it actually is.

“Uh, excuse me,” Jinki says as Taemin breathes a sigh of relief. “Aren’t kisses supposed to be with the date?” Taemin snorts, nuzzling his grin against Jonghyun’s cheek. He feels Jonghyun’s laugh in the soft breaths against his skin.

“I am the date,” Jonghyun says. His hand with the purple corsage falls around Taemin’s waist, but the one with the peach flowers plays with Jinki’s tie.

“Technically, so am I,” Jinki says. Jonghyun grins and shrugs.

“Technically, that means you should be kissing him, not me,” he says, but pulls Jinki forward by the tie to press their mouths together anyway.

Taemin nuzzles Jonghyun’s neck, breathing in his perfume and sweat as Jonghyun kisses his other friend. He’s not jealous of Jinki. He’s known that Jonghyun has been head over heels for him for months, and that Jinki was never not into him. They’re cute together. And if they wanted to only be with each other, they never would have agreed to this date. It’s fine. Taemin kisses Jonghyun’s neck lightly, his jaw, his cheek, and pouts when he can’t kiss his mouth.

Maybe he is a little jealous.

“Mmmmh,” he whines softly. He wants to kiss Jonghyun more. Jinki had such a long time to flirt and nuzzle and be super close with him. Their mutual attraction has never been a secret. Taemin is the one that literally just confessed months of a hidden crush, like, two weeks ago. He has to make up for lost time. Jinki laughs softly as he pulls away from Jonghyun’s mouth, but Taemin finds that he doesn’t mind when he feels Jonghyun’s smile against his lips again.

~

“No, it’s totally Hi-C,” Taemin says. He shakes his head at Jonghyun’s pouts and Jinki’s frowns. He knows his shitty juice brands and the punch being served at the edge of the dance floor definitely isn’t fanta or kool-aid. He’s a little offended that the other two even think so. “It’s Flashin’ Fruit Punch,” he insists.

“Shit,” Jinki mumbles. He squints at his little paper cup of juice with a bigger frown than before. “I think he’s right.”

“I’m so right,” Taemin says. Jonghyun looks between both of them with a defeated little sigh and just sips his juice. He doesn’t say anything out loud, but Taemin hears a tiny little mumble of “tropical punch kool-aid” muffled into his cup. He grins and presses his lips to Jonghyun’s cheek. He’s still so cute.

As he’s drinking the last of his punch and peeping at all of the little snacks and whatnot set out on the table, a new song starts from the speakers that he recognizes. It’s a ballad, kind of; slow and gentle but still fast enough to bop to. He loves it.

“Hey,” he says, squeezing Jonghyun with the arm around his waist to get his attention. “Wanna go dance?” he asks.

“Both of us?” Jinki asks before Jonghyun can reply. Jonghyun chokes and giggles into his cup and Taemin feels his cheeks heating up as he looks at Jinki instead. Jinki cocks an amused brow at him with his arm around Jonghyun’s shoulders and Taemin huffs.

“Yes,” he says firmly, and grabs both of their wrists. He tugs them aggressively onto the dance floor, but once they’re there, he loses his fight. He just steadies Jonghyun in front of him, smiling gently down at his pretty, pretty face. Jonghyun smiles back, arms lifting to drape lazily over his shoulders.

“Hi,” he hums.

“Hey,” Taemin hums back. Behind Jonghyun, Jinki slips up smoothly. He slips his arms around Jonghyun’s waist and rests his chin on his right shoulder.

“Hello,” he grins.

“Yo,” Jonghyun grins back. Taemin snorts, taking a step closer and looping his arms around Jonghyun’s waist above Jinki’s. Taking his left shoulder, Taemin nuzzles him and presses a little kiss to his neck. Jonghyun hums happily, hands pulling Taemin closer but head turning to kiss to Jinki’s cheek. Taemin smiles softly as they all find a rhythm and sway to the music, dancing together under the tacky colored lights.

[theartificialdane]

Galactica, part 238

In this Shane plays music, Max watches, Laila get’s an email, Allison is surprised and Courtney takes a class!

Thank you @veronicasanders @samrull and @toriibelledarling for all of your help <3

“Here we go, white wine for Violet, beer for me, Cuba libre for Betty and a Fanta disguised as an alcoholic drink for Max.” Sutan handed out the drinks, everyone accepting them with a smile and a thank you, Sutan counting it as a win when Betty took a sip and didn’t throw the drink in his face. He sat down, his arm sneaking around Violet’s waist as the band walked on stage, Rega pulling a silly face which made Violet laugh. Sutan could see that Shane was nervous from a mile away, the man biting his lip, his hands shaking slightly, but the moment he saw Betty, he lit up, his shoulders falling down, a giant smile overtaking his face as he got into place, Ruby grabbing the mic, her personality almost too big, too vibrant, to rock and roll for the bar they were in and the music they played, as she introduced the band.

“Hello everyone! We’re Bach Street Boys, please welcome Raga, Shane and me, Ruby Roo, on stage, we’re pleased to be here tonight, and this is our first number, “Trouble in Downtown Manhattan!”

***

Ruby was beautiful. Max smiled as he watched her, his chin in his hand. Normally he would be taking photos, doing everything he could to document a moment like this, but for once he didn’t want to. Ruby shined when she was on stage, the woman shining like a star, so bright it almost hurt looking at her, but it was a pain he was more than willing to bear. Ruby came alive, the music traveling through her, filling her up and making her alive, an explosion of color and of joy. Ruby looked at him, and Max wondered if this was the first time he had ever really felt love.

***

Laila balanced her makeup case in one hand and her phone in the other as she walked the streets of SoHo, looking up at the night sky and feeling joy creep up on her like she was a little kid again.

She watched soft snow settle on the pavement and patches of grass, a single perfect snowflake landing on the screen of her phone and melting right away, before Laila swiped to unlock. She wanted to text Pearl that it was snowing, but something else demanded her attention: an email from somebody called Jaymes Mansfield, titled “A collab opportunity”.

“Huh?”

Laila sat down on a bus stop bench and opened the message.

/Dear Ms McQueen (or shall I call you Laila?)

I hope you’re doing well. I’m writing to express my interest in collaborating with you on a video for my Youtube channel.

My name is Jaymes Mansfield and I’m a self taught fashion designer, makeup artist and hair stylist, getting my inspiration mostly in the fashion of the 50s and 60s. I have been uploading videos to my Youtube channel for 3 years now.

I am very fascinated by your makeup artistry and creative personality and certain that my subscribers would find you just as captivating as I do, having watched every single one of your videos.

If you would be interested, I could appear on your channel as well.

Please do not hesitate to contact me with any further questions regarding our collaboration.

Yours sincerely,

Jaymes Mansfield

https://www.youtube.com/jaymesmansfield/

“Oh, what the hell.” Laila clicked the link, her eyes automatically going to the subscriber count this girl had, and it was much, much higher than Laila’s. Oh lord. She was going to have to do this, wasn’t she?

That was all before Jaymes’s newest video entitled “HOW TO MAKE A PURSE | NO SEWING” started playing and Laila almost yanked out her headphones. “HI EVERYONE! JAYMES MANSFIELD HERE!” said the girl on the screen and Laila couldn’t even make it through 30 seconds of the upbeat, colorful video, the youtuber’s voice making her cringe in ways she never knew before.

Why was that girl like… this?

With a deep sigh, Laila turned the video off, Jaymes’s subscriber count flashing before her eyes. “I’m still gonna have to do it, right?”

She couldn’t resist sending the video link to Pearl without any context.

/From: PEARL

why would I watch this her voice sounds like somebody is repeatedly stepping on Turbo

From: LAILA

You’re looking at my new collab partner

From: PEARL

wtf/

***

“Oh that was wonderful Shane!” Violet smiled, but all Shane could see was Betty, his beautiful Betty who smiled at him and moved over so he could sit down next to her, Shane happily accepting the praise he got from everyone as they settled at the table, Raga grabbing his lady that had just arrived, greeting her with a wet kiss and a giant smile.

“You did great man.”

“Hey, what about us?” Raga kicked Sutan under the table. “Me and Ruby are in the band too you kno- … Has anyone seen Ruby?”

Betty turned her head, looking around, her nose wrinkling as she realised Max was missing too.

***

“Raaaaaaaaaaaj.” Raven whined as she flopped down into Raja’s lap, the other woman barely catching her as Raven pushed Raja’s computer away.

“What’s the matter my angel?”

Raven sighed as she pushed Raja’s glasses up into her fiance’s grey hair, Raja’s long locks so soft to the touch. “Celia has the dress I was going to wear for my bachelorette party.”

“Has she now?”

“Yes!” Raven pouted, her plump lips slightly parted. “It’s so unfair… I want to feel special at my party…” Raven played with Raja’s hair and Raja couldn’t help but smile as she knew exactly what Raven was fishing for.

“Do you want me to come with you, or can you go shopping by yourself?”

“Yes please.”

“Yes please what?”

“For you to come with me silly.” Raven leaned in and kissed Raja, Raja laughing against her lips.

“Of course my princess.”

***

“So, what do you do for a living, Evah?” Violet smiled, taking a sip of her drink as she looked at Evah.

“Oh, here we go. Nobody ever believes her when she says this shit.” Raga gently removed himself from his girlfriend’s grip.

“Why don’t you fuck off and play some darts with the guys while I talk to Violet here, babe?”

“They don’t even have darts in this club, babe! It’s too fancy!” Raga picked up his drink anyway, leaning in for a kiss and then left, leaving Violet with the mysterious girl. She was wearing what could only be described as watered down lolita fashion and her hair was fluorescent blue, but she came across as a genuinely nice, sweet person. Or maybe Violet was just drunk.

“So, where were we? Oh. You said you were a fashion designer, yeah. I’m actually a gamer, you know. I play video games and do streams on Twitch and make some Youtube content too, I actually just came back from a huge gaming con in Tokyo, can you believe I got myself a spon deal with Alienware? I am so excited, oh my God.”

“Alien wear? Is that a fashion brand? I have never heard…”

“Oh no, no, they make gaming equipment! But speaking of fashion, I do a lot of cosplay too, but that’s just for fun, I guess. Maybe I should capitalize on it somehow, but how? What do you think?”

Violet wanted to say “what?” since she didn’t understand ¾ of the words leaving Evah’s mouth, but she just smiled and nodded instead, her eyes drifting to the bar where Sutan was bumping Shane’s shoulder, the two laughing about something. (short descr of how hot Sutan looks. Violet is daydreaming.)

“Anyway, should we get a drink? Violet?” Evah was looking at her with a pleasant, but hesitant smile.

“Let’s get a drink. Totally.”

***

“You’re amazing, oh god Ruby, you’re so amazing.”

Ruby moaned, her and Max’s mouths crashing together, their tongues dancing, Max’s kisses wet, hot, downright fucking filthy, and Ruby couldn’t believe it. Max had come back stairs after the show, Ruby packing their things up and making sure no one could scam them of their equipment when Max had turned her around, Ruby ready for a hug when he had slammed her against the wall.

Max was so tall, so strong, his chest broad, her tits pressing into him, and even though he was completely limp, his cock not hard at all, Ruby couldn’t help herself as she grounded into his stomach, her hips working desperately, her breath coming in small gasps, Max’s body driving her up the wall, both literally and figuratively.  

“You’re amazing Ruby. You’re just…” Max’s voice broke, his eyes clouded, his hair mussed, and Ruby couldn’t help but smile, his broad hands on her hips. “You’re so amazing....”

“Please…” Ruby groaned, the lack of Max kisses dragging her further and further away from the edge. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me please, Max kiss me.”

“You want me to kiss you?”

“Shut up, and kiss me you fucking asshole.” Ruby grabbed Max by the collar, the woman pulling him closer, their lips crashing together once again, Ruby forcefully grounding her hips down, her hand in Max’s hair as she came, Max laughing, Ruby clinging to him, a smile on her lips as Max gently rocked her back and forth.

***

Allison woke up, not really understanding what she was hearing, another crash waking her fully as she shot out of her bed, Allison reaching for the bat her cousin had given to her when she moved to New York, her friends all making fun of her for it, but who was laughing last now bitch. She opened the door, creeping out into the hallway and screamed with true horror as someone jumped her, arms wrapping around her.

“Oh my god Allison hiiii.”

“.. Tati?”

Allison reached out and turned on the light, Tatianna in her arms, the girl smiling brightly, even though her eyes couldn’t focus on Allison at all.

“Wow.. You’re like.. Here.. Like.. Wow.. Wait, wait, omg, we should take a selfie together.”

“Are you okay?”

Allison looked at Tatianna, the girls dress crumbled, her hair a mess.

“I’m fin-”

Tatianna didn’t finish her sentence, as she bend over and puked on the floor, and Allison grabbed the phone, quickly calling the only person she could think of.

***

“You have a dog?”

“Yes, I have a pug, her name’s Frida! She’s absolutely adorable, you should meet her one day!”

“I’ve always wondered, do you think dogs know that we kidnap them from their families and raise them in captivity?”

Violet gasped, and Sutan laughed, his girlfriend, Ruby and Evah totally caught up in conversation, Max sitting on the side with Betty, the two talking too while Shane and Raga were getting more drinks for everyone.

“How can you say something like that? Sutan, tell him he can’t-” Violet turned her head, ready to force Sutan to come to her rescue, the girl drunk and in Sutan’s opinion beyond adorable, Violet almost tumbling over, Sutan reaching out to support her and hold her up, when his phone rang.

“Sutan, ple-”

“One second.” Sutan knew it was rude, knew he should probably ignore it, but phone had specialised ringtones from everyone, and he instantly recognised it as important. “I have to take this call, it’s Tatianna.”

“But-”

“I’m sorry baby, I’ll be back in a ten okay? I promise.” Sutan gave Violet’s chin a quick kiss before he answered the phone.

“Hey-  What’s up? Wait, I’ll stay on the phone, I’m coming to you. Stay where you are.” Sutan got up from the table, not noticing Violet’s broken expression.

***

Courtney’s eyes slowly opened as the teacher’s voice brought them back into the present moment. She and Carole were taking a Bikram yoga class at her favorite studio downtown. She turned to the older woman, who was sprawled out on her mat, in a state of pure relaxation.

“I really think you have a lot to teach me about zen,” Courtney said.

“Hmmm?” Carole said. “I think you’re giving me too much credit. I wasn’t really meditating, I was napping.” She giggled, stretching and yawning.

“Well, either way. You’re not even sweating.”

Carole grinned. “That’s cause I don’t really do the exercise part.” She rolled her neck. “Smoothies?”

Courtney giggled and followed her towards the door. “Of course.”

*

Once they were showered, mic’d, and set up at the smoothie bar, Carole continued their conversation. “So...what’s new?”

“Ummm, not a whole lot. I’ve got some gigs coming up, which is pretty exciting. I’m trying to get this part on Broadway next season. We’ll see how that goes.”

“Ramona said you’re performing at Mogehan Sun, so I think we’re gonna take a party bus. Hope a bunch of middle aged white ladies isn’t gonna fuck up your street cred.”

“Well, if it will, I think that ship has pretty much sailed, hasn’t it?” Courtney countered.

Carole laughed. “True.” She picked up the menu from the smoothie bar. “So...what’s the story with Bianca?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you guys are living together...hang on, just a sec.” Carole touched her earpiece and turned to her producer, who today was a frazzled young man who looked about ready to tear his hair out. “Charlie, this is ridiculous, why am I asking a 22 year old about her marriage plans? Are you kidding me?”

“Just ask the damn questions, Carole,” he growled into her ear.

Carole turned back to Courtney with an apologetic look, muttering, “I’m sorry,” and then pausing before continuing in her normal voice, “You guys have been living together for awhile. Have you talked about marriage?”

Courtney suppressed a laugh at her faux enthusiasm for this question. “Um, she mentioned it once. But...we were kind of drunk, and in the middle of having sex in the bathroom of a nightclub, so...I don’t know how serious that was.”

Carole burst out laughing. “Sounds romantic.”

“Yeah, it really was. I was kind of pissed, actually, but then, she made it up to me.”

“Jewelry?”

“Nope.” Courtney winked.

Giggling, Carole continued, “So what you’re saying is...no wedding bells.”

“What I’m saying is...that’s not really where my head is right now. You know? I’m just trying to figure out who I am in the world. My career, my goals, my...identity? And Bianca is such a force to be reckoned with. Sometimes it’s tough because I feel like she’s already so established. It’s not really the age difference per se, but more about like...it’s like a constant reminder of how far I have to go.”

“You guys seem pretty happy, though.”

“Oh yeah!” Courtney replied quickly, “I’m...I’m so lucky, she’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I just mean, like, I...I’m not thinking about marriage. I’m thinking about how I’m going to get to a point where I would be, um...for lack of a better term...marriage material.”

Carole tilted her head, looking questioningly at Courtney, who bit her lip, fidgeting with the straw on her drink. “ASK WHAT SHE MEANS BY THAT!” hissed the voice in her earpiece. Carole swallowed, and asked gently, “What...what do you mean, Court?”

“Um…” for a moment there was a very wounded, faraway look in Courtney’s eyes, a look that made Carole feel guilty and almost made her want to get up and walk away from the whole situation. But then it was replaced by a bright, happy smile, and Courtney laughed, and said, “Oh, I dunno. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“Push her. Push her!” urged the voice, and Carole, as kindly as possible, said, “Maybe...did you mean that you weren’t ready for marriage? I mean you are awfully young.”

“Yeah, that, and...I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know if I even want to get married, to be honest. But regardless, it just seems like everyone thinks I’m not good enough for B. So…” Courtney shrugged.

“KEEP GOING!” said Charlie, “Why’s she not good enough? Who’s telling her that? Dig!” he urged, but Carole had reached her limit. She wasn’t about to play games with this kid’s head to satisfy Bravo’s bloodthirsty need for a storyline. Instead, she switched gears, saying, “Well...I wouldn’t be surprised if someday it was the other way around. I mean, she’s already reached the pinnacle of her success. Your star is still rising.”

Courtney giggled. “Let’s hope so.”

“It is interesting though. I mean, Adam and I have a similar age difference, and so we’ve had to deal with all the same accusations. You know...golddigger, predator. It’s exhausting. But for us, I actually think it caused the relationship to last longer.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I think it may have been a fun little fling otherwise. But because we had all these people attacking us, we were like allies against them, and in the process of defending each other against this like, crazy onslaught, we found out that we actually really care about each other.”

Courtney smiled. “That’s beautiful.”

“I don’t know if it helps you, but that’s our situation.”

“I mean...yeah, I don’t know if it applies to me, but...it helps to know that you’re happy,” Courtney said thoughtfully, sipping her smoothie.

Carole reached out and squeezed her hand, a wave of sadness washing over her. This poor girl had no idea what she was in for.

[halalfoodieblogger-blog]

@siirgistabros Branches located in: Piccadilly Circus, Baker Street, Shepherds Bush, Ealing Broadway and Finchley. Visited: Shepherds Bush Sunday 5th of August I planned to finally visit the most hyped and anticipated burger joint *DRUM ROLLS* SIIRGISTA BROS - I’ve said this many times and I will say it again I like to choose what I like and never follow the crowd but there was something about this restaurant which was so intriguing, visit was very much needed. I’m not sure if anyone does this - but when I plan to go somewhere new I always have a look at their menu online and yes I had checked Siirgista‘ menu and was very determined to get the ‘Spicy chicken burger meal’ which came with fries and you could choose either soda or milkshake. So as sad it may sound I had pre-planned what I wanted and also pree’d their insta enough times to make sure I was making the right decision and boy was I right? As I’m from East London the commute was pretty straight forward and I was very much glad that there was air con in the trains as it was pretty much 30 degrees - the stop that made sense to get off was ‘Shepherds Bush Market’ on the Hammersmith and City Line - kid you not it was literally a 3-4 min walk! When we finally reached the shop, it had just opened (12pm) and we were the 2nd customer as the other one was getting a take out so pretty much we were the only ones there. Th staff seemed really friendly, we went up to the till and got menus and went back to our table - as discussed before I knew what I wanted but I needed to find out what starter I wanted as I had downloaded the app and as an welcome gift you get a complimentary starter so I was literally spoilt for choice. When it was time to make the order - I placed the following: ‘Spicy chicken burger w/ chips & soda’ and let the guy know I downloaded the app so he asked what starter I wanted - I was so spoilt for choice I didn’t even know what I wanted - eventually I opted for BBQ wings. Also as I have the NUS discount card! My bill was coming to over £18 but the magic of the discount took it down to £11.16 I know amazing righhbttt??!?? - so after placing the order the guy gave me a plastic cup to self serve myself (Like Nandos) and I went over to the drink station I went for the ‘California Orange’ - First sip of this drink took me to another planet, it was a cross between Fanta and Miranda but even more amazing. I loved it! We didn’t have to wait for very long and I was very intrigued by the decor of the restaurant as it sort of reminded of Nando’s- there was songs in background playing which we knew LOL! So the vibe and atmosphere was pretty chilled and relaxed. I would say 15 mins later our buzzers started going off for us to collect our food!! The minute I put the tray down, the 1000 pictures I took every angle you name it and there was my friend who had already begun eating!! But being a blogger you need ta take pics!! I would say after a good 5 Minutes and I was satisfied with the pictures I had taken I quickly took a few fries and shoved it in my mouth - MY GOODNESS, words or pictures won’t explain how insanely good these were, they were amazingly seasoned too! I had never had fries with rosemary salt and really loved this concept. Next I tried was the BBQ wings which btw I wish I hadn’t got because 1st it was so damn messy and 2ndly it was so sweet and I didn’t enjoy it as much!! But I wish I had gotten another starter instead. Having said that the chicken was falling of the bone and was very succulent and there was no odd smell coming from it! But still I just wished I had perhaps gotten the nachos or something else. Now there was this spicy burger just looking me in the eye and it kept telling me to ‘eat me, enjoy me’ - the burger was pretty massive, it had 2 boneless breasts which were grilled and coated in some chilli sauce which was surprisingly hot. This again was really messy and even though I don’t care what people think about how I eat but I do like to try to be very lady like and making sure that nothing was dripping on the sides of my face. So the burger it was pretty decent and really fresh and again the chicken was really succulent and thankfully no odd smell was coming from it! I really enjoyed devouring this, I loved the portion size of it but I really despise getting my hands very messy while I’m eating. The sauces that were in the burger really gave it that oomph and went pleasantly well. Now the question everyone has been waiting for!! Would I recommend this place? YES I DAMN WELL DO!! I am yet to visit again to try other burgers! Plus the student discount really made a huge difference! The Shepherds Bush branch is sort of small and can easily seat up to 30 people - as we were the 1st ones there I wouldn’t know how the atmosphere would be with all the people there but I’m sure it would be totally great!!! Benefits: * Student Discount (Can use 7 days a week) * Download app and get your Free complimentary welcome starter * Soda (Free Refillable) Food: 8/10 Service: 10/10 Atmosphere: 9/10 9/10

[grapsandclaps]

GRAPS & CLAPS - THE GRIMSBY EDITION PART 2! (IT'S GRIM IN GRIMSBY).

Hello again. I am Chris Wilson, the official #GrimsbyGraps correspondent for Graps and Claps. Grimsby is quite a random place for dedicated coverage but until I can coax our Andy to visit the town with the third best football team in Lincolnshire (out of 3), someone needs to tell you how #GrimsbyGraps is taking over the world. Yes, really. Well, maybe.

It all started when some brilliant, creative genius invented the #GrimsbyGraps hashtag and-- Okay, fine, let's skip forward.

Since the last time we were here for BWR's Ignition, British Wrestling Revolution put tickets on sale for their next show, 'No Gods, No Masters'. It sold out in ten hours! This was for a bigger venue too: the first card at the prestigious - if a place for record, job and craft fairs counts as that - Cleethorpes Memorial Hall in 24 years. Unbelievable stuff. BWR then put tickets on sale for their April event also at the Memorial Hall, 'Dive and Kicking', possibly in hope of starting PROGRESS-style immediate sell-outs from now until the end of time. They have sold half their allocation so far. Pretty impressive for #GrimsbyGraps, but the difference between the two shows is one man alone. As discussed before on this blog, having the WWE UK champion Pete Dunne on the card guarantees an extra 80 to 100 ticket sales. He is a rare draw in the age of strongly-branded promotions themselves being the main attraction. 

BWR stacked the card for 'No Gods, No Masters'. Suddenly, a snowstorm in March. BWR came out relatively unscathed considering OTT and Discovery Wrestling have cancelled their plans for this weekend. However, BWR announced the morning of the show that Kay Lee Ray, Big T, Big Grizzly, and Tel Banham couldn't make it. And later in the afternoon, the weather had held down and choked Bram in Birmingham, meaning five matches would not go ahead as scheduled. The good news, though: the two big contests remained in tact.

So, let's get on with the report.

Firstly, you can tell I'm not Andy Ogden as my pre-show drinking involved a bottle of water to keep myself hydrated, followed by a severely-diluted protein shake due to my next shipment of powder being stuck in a van somewhere on the motorway (wouldn't have happened if Amazon used Simon Morris Transport). Yes, instead of pub crawling, I was in the gym until 30 minutes before bell-time. And that's why I'm only allowed to report on #GrimsbyGraps. 

'No Gods, No Masters' began with the ring announcer's opening spiel. Apparently "we're not jobbing to a snow storm" (actual words), and he used a variation of "the weather's cold outside but the action inside is RRREEEDDD HOT". Pop.

Out came Reese Ryan, doing his Nathan Cruz circa 2012 'Hollywood-with-a-thick-northern-accent' shtick. His advertised Blockbuster Announcement was in two parts: not only has he released Big T from his security detail and replaced him with evil choir boy Will Kroos, but he introduced the Real Wrestling VIP Championship. In wrestling, it seems you can bring your own title and it's legitimate. Jonny Storm appeared unannounced and challenged Ryan for the belt. What followed was a ten-minute bout in which Storm outclassed Ryan in between the referee somehow failing to notice the large evil choir boy attacking Storm. Kroos entered the ring and planted Storm with a DDT to ensure Ryan retained his "title".

Next, the Korn-dubstep antics of Guilty By Habit transcended Southside Wrestling as Robbie X and SUUUUUUUUPERTWAT Kip Sabian (replacing Big Grizzly) defeated The Proven's Caz Crash and Sam Wilder. This was a top-notch contest. I love how X and Sabian don't get along, as though they're only in GBH together because their mates are mates. An added bonus too: the match ended with a CHEEKY ROLL-UP and a CHEEKY HOLDING ONTO THE TIGHTS. #MyGraps.

Lana Austin was up next, accompanied by Eliza Roux and Jami Sparx. With Kay Lee Ray "too scared" to show up, Roux offered an open challenge on "her best friend Lana's" behalf. Little Miss Roxxy made her BWR debut by accepting. Although the crowd took a while to get into it, Austin and Roxxy put in quite a shift until everyone was emotionally invested. Roxxy finally gained momentum once Roux and Sparx were kicked out for their extra-curricular activities and hit a springboard knee-faceplant for the win. Roux and Sparx reappeared and left Roxxy laying on the canvas.

Before intermission, we saw the much-hyped hardcore match between Jimmy Havoc and local hero/silly boy Tyler Devlin. There were no pretences here: both men introduced every weapon they were planning to use from under the ring before the bell rung. Devlin's antics were mercifully less of his own doing this time, but he still managed to get thrown onto a ladder, bounce off a guardrail he had balanced from the ring, eat pins, get curb stomped onto pins, and falling after Havoc's rainmaker onto, yup, pins. Silly boy. Rewind a bit: the ultimate silly boy-ness came moments before when he executed a Jeff Hardy-style senton bomb from a ladder through a table outside the ring... and missed. It was the sickest spot I've seen in person since Death House. Silly boy. Havoc won with that aforementioned rainmaker. After the match, he got on the mic, said he was impressed with Devlin, "but you're just a Jimmy Havoc knock-off". Cue a kick to the nads. Bit harsh from Havoc. I'd say he's more a Clint Margera knock-off. 

Intermission. £1.10 for a can of Fanta Lemon went down very well considering I didn't know Fanta Lemon was still a thing. Meanwhile, the raffle was £1 PER NUMBER. Related note: Cleethorpes voted Tory.

After a forty minute break for some reason, we returned with Tyson T-Bone coming out. Originally he was meant to face Bram. His new opponent was... Gabriel Kidd. Every time I go to a show where someone pulls out, Kidd is the replacement. 3CW in November, PROGRESS Sheffield in December, now this. Never mind "Life Boat Man", he should be called "Answers The Phone Man".

Tyson T-Bone versus Gabriel Kidd sounded terrible on paper. Already in my head, I was going to dismiss the match. So, obviously, they fucked with me by having a blistering, hard-hitting brawl that went around the ring - including a sweet knee drop by Kidd onto T-Bone as he hung over the guardrail - and delivered more chops than a vegan's nightmare. It helped how the crowd were RRREEEDDD-HOT for this (take note, Sheffield Southside). T-Bone hit Kidd with a piledriver for the victory and both men were applauded. If it wasn't for the main event, this would've been my match of the night. Strange times indeed.

Next: Scotty Rawk, Cole Quinzel, Matt Myers, and Kelvin Kayton defeated Jimmy Mcilwee, Harry the Hammer Winston, evil choir boy Will Kroos, and (despite being fired in November) Simon Lancaster in a "Get the Lads on the Card" match. The crowd love Mcilwee's homeless, can't-get-a-BWR-contract-even-though-he's-on-every-card gimmick but there was nothing else noteworthy here.

El Ligero versus Tom Weaver versus Robbie X doing double-duty in place of Tel Banham. In a confusing series of events: the ring announcer said the following was a triple-threat match, Robbie X attacked Tom Weaver during his entrance, and he interjected himself into the match to make it... a triple threat match? The announcer tried back-tracking by saying he "suddenly understood" the original third participant couldn't be there, but it was a bit contrived (sorry, readers). This was another excellent contest. Weaver hit a shooting star press on X for the victory before Ligero approvingly shook his hand. I hope they find something substantial for Weaver - as a local lad, he deserves more high-profile fights at these bigger shows than winning throwaway - albeit great - triple threat matches.

In the main event, WWE UK champion Pete Dunne faced the World #GrimsbyGraps Champion Joseph Conners for the latter's title. With this being the third high-profile match between the two in seven weeks (PROGRESS, TNT, here), a friend joked they are this generation's Jonny Storm versus Jody Fleisch. And you can't help but admit they work really well together, telling a well-told story of the cocky AF Dunne stretching Conners as the World #GrimsbyGraps Champion got the crowd (who were evenly split) behind him to make his comeback. I admire how Dunne never half-arses a match, pulling out the same flips and top-rope stomps and high-octane brawling as seen in Fight Club Pro. Together they brought out a big match feel likely never seen in Grimsby/Cleethorpes. It's a massive credit to both men. But...

...let's quickly talk about Dunne's WWE UK title. I can't believe this has never been angrily discussed on Twitter. Can you name me one time other than PROGRESS Ally Pally where the current UK champion has taken a pinfall or submission loss at a non-WWE show? It's as though there's a contractual obligation or something. To be fair, I believed for a couple of near falls that Dunne would become the World #GrimsbyGraps Champion, even if I never believed Conners would cleanly retain the title. Here came the bullshit finish: Tyson T-Bone ran in and attacked both men. No contest. Conners and Dunne chased off T-Bone. Then Conners challenged Dunne to continue the match, only for Dunne to kick him in the nads and leave. Conners got on the mic again and teased a rematch between the two down the line to end the show. Finish aside, this was easily the best match in the era of #GrimsbyGraps to date. 

'No Gods, No Masters' as a whole, putting aside my local pride, was a top-shelf show. They overcame the weather and delivered one of the stronger cards I've been to for some time. The crowd was well up for the action, while the wrestlers brought their A-game. Cleethorpes Memorial Hall is a cracking venue for the graps too. Definitely worth the visit if you're coming from out of town. Just, you know, avoid going out in Cleethorpes afterwards if you enjoy your health and wellbeing. 

Here's hoping the momentum continues into 'Dive and Kicking' on April 20th. This event will feature a tournament to crown the first-ever BWR Cruiserweight champion - an odd choice for a division given all but three guys are cruiserweights, but there we go. Of course, your #GrimsbyGraps correspondent will be there in person, so I'll see you back on Graps and Claps on the 21st. 

Until next time!