#floor scales for sale

[anadiasmount]

as time gets close - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: almost close to your due date, what is wrong with a late-night grocery trip with your very excited and anxiously waiting fiance?

wc: 1.8k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: a little dad! jude blurb bc we haven’t seen much of this on the timeline!! like always hope you enjoy 🤍

"why are you bending down? you know that is bad for you," you rolled your eyes at your fiance's scolding, grabbing the keys from the floor. "i dropped the keys by accident," you say as you pick the correct key that belonged to the lock. jude rubbed your belly, ensuring you were okay before helping you out to the car, the reusable bags tucked underneath his arm.

"did you bring the list?" you ask him seeing as he nods and pulls it out from the pockets of his hoodie. "i did. i also brought you some snacks because you didn't eat much after getting some nausea," you pouted your lips leaning up to peck his cheek thanking him. "what would i do without you?" you tease, a playful scoff falling from his lips.

"what makes you think you'd be without me? i'm attached to you for life remember?" he grabs your left hand kissing over your ring finger as he gives you a knowing look. you feel as he brings your intertwined hands to your belly, "and you're carrying my baby in there."

"really i couldn't tell," you say sarcastically.

"let's make it quick because my feet already hurt and i want to sleep," you advised letting out a tired yawn. despite being close to your due date, you still had some work to do before maternity leave. making calls to set meetings, attending them over zoom, filing paperwork, in charge of making sure the firm doesn't backfire, and planning some stuff out for your wedding.

jude had told you multiple times to take it easy, but placing that aside, he always helped you unconditionally. in the shower, when cooking, taking care of chores, before bed, and attending all your doctor's appointments. he was your personal midwife and wanted to take care of you the most he could.

you remembered to look on his face when you told him you were expecting, the tears on his face as he spoke to your barely bump all night and traced his hands on your belly. singing and humming lullabies and stories about his day. since then he wanted to protect you the best he could.

going to the grocery store at this time was nothing new, in fact, it became so prevalent now that you were pregnant because you craved everything. making jude do a late run to pick up your cravings or groceries for the upcoming weeks. the same store, at the same time.

you placed your purse on the cart, snuggling into your jacket as the cold air inside the store blew you away. you followed jude who picked out veggies and greens for his meal prepping, helping him tie the bags and weigh them on the digital scale that produced labels. you watched in awe as your boyfriend picked out three pairs of different flowers. "what are these for?" you asked, smelling the flowery scent.

"for the house. we need to replace the old ones that dried out," jude says with a shy grin. "you were the one who said plants and flowers bring a sense of home into our house, " jude recalled your words, kissing your temple, pushing the cart since it became a bit heavier. "i did say that didn't i? well i wasn't wrong," you shrug, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he trailed along isles to pick up the different items on the list.

he did all the heavy lifting as you reached and picked stuff up from your level, like spices and eggs. you turn your back for a few seconds to retrieve some milk and coffee beans for the morning, to see the cart filled with pop tarts and other salty snacks. "no no no," you shake your head, as jude whines out protests. "y/n we need them! they're even on sale!"

“jude, i don’t care! we just got some three days ago!,” you say laughing, putting back the box of pop tarts. “y/n i’m telling you right now, in a couple of hours or days you’re gonna have me running back here for them,” jude states following behind you.

“am not!” you quickly defend, bringing a hand to your aching back. “are too! last night you had me running out for cheetos. what’s it going to be today? kettled popcorn? or wingstop?” jude teased making you rolls your eyes and focusing back on to what needed to get done. “don’t forget we need to pick some of that acid reflex stuff for you, to get rid of the heartburn,” jude reminds you, taking the cart and walking out of the pop tarts isle, sneaking a box in for you.

“what’s left on the list?” you ask him, taking out a small snack you had in your purse and offering some to jude. “we need bananas, strawberries, orange juice, and meats for upcoming dinners…” jude reads the list one by one, using his index finger as he goes along.

you pass by an isle grabbing some cereal and granola for your yogurts and bowls. jude insisting he grabs his favorite too since you refuse to share from your part. as you wait by the deli section jude come behind you, grabbing your belly and relieving some of the pressure.

you immediately lay your head back on his shoulder sighing in relief, hearing jude chuckle and place a kiss on your head. “almost there darling,” he whispered running one of his hands along your tummy. “i know what you’re doing jude… and if this baby starts kicking right now i’ll leave you here,” you warn.

“i’m just trying to help you love. doesn’t it feel good?” he reprimanded as you nodded. “yes but not when she starts kicking, i swear she does it on purpose and it’s your fault. like she knows it you,” you said feeling your lower back less tense and heavy. "i kid you not, last night she almost made me pee from this hard kick!"

"sounds to me like we have a mini footballer coming into our lives," said jude continuing to hold your belly since you were tired and your baby was heavy. he had read the method online with other tips and tricks. jude got more into reading when he found out you were pregnant, wanting to know every effect and secret to ensure a healthy and safe pregnancy.

"let's hope not, i don't think i could handle cleaning up broken stuff around the house every day," you sigh, releasing yourself from his hold because you began to get hot. you didn’t understand how your body was so quick to adjust and then de-adjust from hot and cold, but it was so easy and it drove you mad sometimes.

“you okay?” jude softened his eyes as you let out a breath of despair, holding your hand and feeling a sit squeezed tightly against his. “yeah just got a mini cramp,” you held your back and practiced breathing methods you learned, “i’m good, i promise,” you kiss his hand before retrieving the meats from the butcher. "we'll get home soon, and i promise you a warm tea and massage okay?"

"did you want chocolate or strawberry milk?" jude held up the pint containers, "strawberry, we still have chocolate milk at home," you said, jude nodding as he quickly picked the orange juice and your favorite yogurts. "i was never a fan of sweet or flavored milk but these are soooo good," you exaggerated, jude smiling hard down at you.

"never a fan? these were my childhood as a kid! my mum used to buy these or the powder to make it ourselves," jude says recalling a old memory thinking of his babygirl. "you reckon she'll like them too?" jude spoke softly as he saw you give him a fast nod. if there was one thing loved it was discussing his babygirl. he was so anxious and wanted to meet her. the itch in his teeth getting bigger as every day passes.

to hold her while she slept, hug her to keep her warm, coddle her to sleep, feed her. he was ready for it all. he loved to shop and spoil her already. her carrier, crib, different books, toys, and stuffed animals like he had as a kid. she didn't know it yet, but she would be jude's second best friend. firstly you. always you.

they saw if one ever finds love at first sight, and jude definitely did with you. a smile so bright, eyes gleaming with happiness, a stranger who he fell madly with almost immediately after hearing her say hello. through ups and downs, you found your way to each other and since then, it's a love story for the movies. jude had his career blowing, a beautiful fiancee, and now a baby on the way. what more could he want?

as jude helped bag the groceries into the recycled bags you had, you paid and thanked the cashier whom you got close with on nights like these. asking how her day was, about her kids, anything special, always something to distract her. "you two have a safe night!" she yelled as you turned and thanked, wishing her a good night as well.

after you insisted on helping, you carried four light bags as jude carried most bags since he hated double trips. you guys quickly unpacked everything, longing and wishing to get into bed. you ensure the stove and other appliances are off, grabbing your tea and heading upstairs with jude.

"lay here for me," jude instructed, grabbing some cream and begging to smooth and massage out the muscles on your legs and shoulders. "after we have her, i promise i'll return every single thing you did for me while i was pregnant," you say struggled and full pleasure as the tension went away at jude's fingertips. "oh i'm fully expecting the injured boyfriend method again," jude teased as he finished up.

he grabbed a new book, laying on your side as you brushed and played with a few curls on his head, twirling them around your finger as he breathed softly. he looked so gentle and full of excitement like this, reading to your babygirl, who sensed her daddy's voice as she kicked. she knew, she always knew.

he applied your belly oil to prevent any stretch marks and kissed the small ones that formed along the way. jude cherished your body for carrying his baby in there, for being able to give and bring a new life into his and yours. you laid on your side, jude's chest connecting and fitting the crevasse on your back, holding your tummy as in a way to keep it safe.

you placed and locked hands with his, as jude wishing you a goodnight, peering kissed on your shoulders then finally lips, moaning in delight, a tiny groan leaving his lips. "i love you so much darling," he whispered, kissing your temple and snuggling into you more. "iloveyoutoojude," you said fast, with a playful smile on your lips as you felt a familiar sensation of a certain craving. "okay now i do want some pop tarts..."

"are you serious right now?"

[ellierenae]

SUPER UNIQUE writing ideas for hobbyists and professionals looking for fun, personal projects to get their inspo back

get a fictional pen pal (ask your other writer friends!) and spend time decorating envelopes, picking out a handwriting style, maybe buying a cheap perfume/cologne that smells like your character to really get to know them and feel their presence. if you have hand tremors or bad handwriting like me, you can choose a handwriting font for them and print their letters out!! more examples: save the dates, wedding invitations, birthday cards, party invites, etc.

use old calendars in character (there are many "expired" planners on sale around the end of the year, usually August) personally, i use them to record major life events like first band tours, trips abroad, holidays, birthdays... even trash pickup days and when they forget to roll out the bins!

sketch floor plans this can be on graph paper if you have the know-how when it comes to scaling down, but there are also tons of simple apps that allow you to both create the floor plan a builder would use and add furniture like an interior decorator. some even let you rotate them afterwards and see the furniture and walls burst to life in 3D! you can think of them as the sims but where everything is actually to scale

make an architectural model if you have some scrap cardboard, paper, and glue, you can easily bring the floor plan you just made to life (you'll need practice if you want to get really fancy with it of course! window panes and railings are the gnarliest part for me, haha)

make a playlist as your character maybe the most accessible one on this list, you can make the playlist your character listens to. sometimes this can be fun and surprising, like when my little guy Possum from Violence Without Plot is covered in tattoos and plays punk music on stage but listens to nothing but spa music to wind down between shows

write something your character can see this one is so weird to summarize but what i mean is like... a school essay for your teacher character to grade. cryptic street signs warning about danger by the lake. a memorial plaque beneath a statue. a character's online blog. a few of the cards in a grandmother's recipe box. a business card for a smooth-talking lawyer. things you can write that make everything feel so textured and real

these are all things i do on the daily, and it makes my life as a writer a thousand times more joyful and fulfilling. so have fun, be safe, and don't forget to unplug the hot glue when you're done <3

[heartfullofleeches]

Man imagine bustomer walking in and just seeing a bigass human monster long arm legged cat with a zipper??? Just staring.

Customer: *pays for item and rudely hands the money*

Lynel: *whispers behind them menacingly* …Say keep the change.

Customer: *shits their pants and on the brink of tears* mommy…

Lynlas tricks/enjoys messing with customers by pretending to be a statue propped up in Witch Reader's lobby/living room. In a normal household, a cat human creature held together by zippers may seem like an outlandish choice for decoration, but it feels right at home in the witch's possession.

-

"What a peculiar figurine...."

Aged fingers map the teeth of the zipper scaling the length of the statues face. They trail to its mouth, curled in a wide grin - unsurprised by the give of its teeth given the zipper's impression of there being something else underneath. The illuminated iris of its singular visible eye pokes through the shroud of darkness that is its sciera. Curiosity blossoms a new as attention is directed towards their right eye. A tab dangles from the sealed lid - small, hole circle scars in the skin indicating some of of former injury. The point of a needle, perhaps?

"Pardon me...."

The collector stiffens- Entering from the kitchen, floorboard's creak with each tap of your advancing steps. Standing before the older gentleman, you present him with the cup of tea requested from your lists of refreshments for guests. A smile dawns your face, yet it does not reach your eyes- They point away from the man, knowing and calculating. The watchful gaze of someone waiting for another to misbehave.

"Do you like them? Lynlas has been with me for some time now. They are the best companion one in my line of work could ask for."

The name of the figure lingers on the collector's tongue. "Lynlas....I beg you- I'll pay ten - twenty times more than what I came here for. It would be a marvelous addition to my collection."

Your face tightens, smile shrinking into something akin to a grimace. "I'm afraid they are not for sale."

You stumble - grounding a foot backwards as his hands perch onto your shoulders.

"Money is not an issue for me. Name your price, I insist!"

Your eyes once again dart towards the figure - a flicker of panic flashing over your otherwise relaxed expression. "Sir, please refrain from putting your hands on me. They do not want you-"

"Surely you can bare to part with it! You can fill your home with similar novelties with the money you'll gain-"

"Agh!"

Scolding white pain shoots through your hands, bleeding down your arms as scorching liquid seeps into the sleeves of your shirt. The tea cup crashes to the floor with a loud crack - your body falling to its knees along with it. The agony is fleeting, hurt morphing to terror as the tear of a zipper racks through the walls of your living room.

"Lynlas.... It was an accident."

Nails scrape along the wooden floor, bones snapping and cracking into place as the statue reaches its full height.

"Lynlas.... He is a senile old man. Do not attack him."

The collector turns as hot breath fans the nape of his neck. A long, greyed tongue unfurls from the backs of pointed teeth.

"Didn't you hear, old man.... I'm not for sale."

"LYNLAS!"

-

The feline's ears press flatly against their skull as they scrub blood out of your prized rug. Sniffling, it looks up at you - eye wet with tears.

"I'm sorry for ruining your favorite rug again, Master... Can I still sleep in your room tonight?"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Depths 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: fisherman!Geralt of Rivia x artist!reader

Summary: your sleepy existence is thrown into chaos by a mysterious man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

It's too rainy to paint but you hate to stay pent up. You pull on a coat and boots and head out with an umbrella. You might not get any work done but the lake will help soothe your nerves.

You come down the ragged path towards the dock and stop at the threshold of dirt and wood. You squint out at the dark shape bobbing on the water. The ship is whipped around in the wind, rocking dangerously on the foam. Still, it makes no advance towards shore.

The rain darts down like pellets. Small droplets that bounce off your coat but don't soak through. A spray speckles over your face as the fog rises across the lake. The boat's light turns on and glows in the distance.

Only then does the vessel redirect. You can hardly tell from your vantage. You shield your eyes from the rain as you try to zero in.

The rain lets up but the fog thickens around you. You stop just beyond the lap of the risen waves. Pebbles roll in the dirt and sticks float out with the tide.

The boat looms closer as it cuts a slow trawl through the water. You climb up on the dock and watch. You can only see the floating orb of light in the wall of mist.

You turn back and tramp down into the mud. It'll slow your return and the sooner your out of the musty air the better. You look back as the boat knocks against the dock, just as you reach the crest of the valley. 

The man with the white hair ties off on the post and throws out his ramp. His figure is obscured and he appears like a ghost in the fog. You're too far to see more than his faint silhouette. You set off and leave him behind with the churning waters.

The house is grim as you enter. You forgo the electric bulbs for a glass lantern. The ambiance flickers as a new spatter of rain begins. You steep a cup of tea and settle in with a book.

The lull coaxes you to sleep. You only wake as a sudden clatter comes from the rear of the house. You nearly roll of the sofa as you give a start. The novel falls to the floor as you sit up in the dark.

The wick's burnt itself out and the night has deepened outside. You get up and go to look out on the wooden deck. It could just be the wind. You don't see more than shadows. The only thing that hangs around are bears and deer. You'll leave them be.

You retreat and go to tidy up your cup and the book. You drag yourself a bed, dozy with the dampness thick around you.

The next morning is brighter but you have things to do. You load several paintings into your wooden wagon and head out for the main fare. It's a good trek away but you don't mind. The market stalls more than make up for the effort.

You stop at the post office first and send off the paintings to their buyers. Sales are enough to get by. Decent for the work done. Then you take your wagon off to the market for your usual haul.

You stop at the produce stand and pick out some healthy potatoes and onions, some berries too. You add some oats and flour to the wagon along the way, needing only some meat to get you by. 

You're drawn off course on your way to the butcher's stall. The shining scales lure you in and you browse the selection of trout. The man behind the stall frightens you as he growls in greeting.

"We don't have shrimp," the white-haired fisher states.

You didn't know he sold here but you suppose he has to offload the fish somehow.

"Oh, I wasn't... can I have two, please? They're pretty big." You smile. He narrows his eyes and unhooks two fish, wrapping them in paper and twine.

You ask how much and pay. You watch him as his golden eyes guide his hands. He accepts the money. 

"Quite the rain yesterday." You say.

He looks at you and returns your change.

"The waters must have been rough," you add. He shrugs. "Alright, well have a good day. See ya around."

You put the fish in the wagon and he clears his throat. "What are you painting?" He asks. You stop and face him again.

"Sorry?"

"You've got that easel. What do you paint?"

You smile again, "the water. The sun. It's beautiful out there, isn't it?"

He nods and grunts. "Dunno, I just look for the fish.”

You stand in silence. Unsure what else to do or say. You thank him again and drag your wagon onward. You stop at the butcher a few stands down. 

You glance back. The white-haired man stares after you for a moment then turns his back to you. He picks up a book and plops down on his stool. He's not much of a salesman but those fish will make a good filet.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Aw, maaaannn, another one of my dream houses is back on the market, but this time, instead of the $3.5M price tag it had in 2018, it's now listed for $9.75M + $1,967mo. common charge. The 1910 building is located in the East Village, a desirable trendy part of New York City. It's a large duplex with 5bds, 4.5ba.

The entrance is thru an iron gate and a forest green door.

The property consists of a penthouse with a cottage on the roof.

In the living room is a lovely fireplace and a mezzanine on the 2nd level opens the space, giving it some architectural interest.

The home was renovated and has a renewed staircase, yet retains an original niche. A ceiling-high glass block window lets in light.

Open concept dining room lined with windows for lots of natural light.

The open space ends with the kitchen.

Love the vintage look flooring. The kitchen island is unique- it looks like a mid-century modern sideboard.

The mezzanine is basically just a walkway, but it has a wall of shelving and enough room for a chair or two.

There's also a nook for a small desk or writing table.

The primary bedroom is a nice size, gets good natural light, and has a small nook for a chair, plus a lovely fireplace. It also has a view of the patio. And, it's located in the rooftop cottage.

Very nicely remodeled vintage style bath.

Hallway with a built-in closet and a bedroom used as a TV room.

This bedroom is designed the same as the primary, but on a smaller scale.

Lively turquoise subway tile bath and bedroom #3.

And, another lovely tiled bath with bedroom #4.

The rooftop cottage and brick patio looks like a beautiful home you'd find on the ground.

It's like the best of both worlds, living in the city and the country.

There're even trees, lawn & gardens.

View of the city.

[ivorydragoness44]

Ahkmenrah x Reader: Sarcophagus Part 2

Sarcophagus Part 1

Word Count: 2,388 Warnings/Notes: Minor angst (disappointment, worry, disbelief), Reader kinda panicking over touching ancient artifacts without gloves. Summary: Having yet been able to free Ahkmenrah from his sarcophagus, the Reader tries to find a way into the museum at night.

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

The sun was hanging low in the sky as the day was nearing its end. But for two people inside the Museum of Natural History, they were missing every moment of it. Deep within the ancient Egyptian exhibit, you and your archeologist colleague were hard at work. Though as day was nearing evening,you both were finishing up with cataloguing the hieroglyphs around Ahkmenrah’s sarcophagus. Packing up their equipment into their satchel, your friend and longtime colleague turned to you. “Are you sure that you want to ask to stay in the museum after closing? I mean, I know that this is important and downright fascinating to you. Believe me, I know. And I couldn’t agree more, but…do you honestly think the museum director will allow it?” They kept their voice down. Even in an empty room, the flooring could echo off of the large walls. You plopped down beside the sarcophagus, you bag between your legs. “I hope he agrees. It’s just that we always have a limited amount of time. We’re lucky we got four weeks to do this,” you sighed. Glancing at the scale of the room around you, you shrugged. “This museum has been open for how many years? And no one has though to catalogue the hieroglyphs?” They gave a dry laughs as they finished packing. “Well, they found the tomb and brought all that they could here. They at least have a decent list of all of the items.” “And after a while, they move on to the next big discovery.” “There’s nothing wrong with that,” they stood, slinging their bag over their shoulder. “Not everyone has the luxury to sit around with the same discoveries for a while.” Following their lead, you grumbled. “It’s like searching for garage sales, but having to pay beforehand without knowing if you’ll ever really find something.” With a tilt of their head, they squinted teasingly at you. “And with that strange comparison to archeology…”

Turning toward the exit, you both headed down the straight path. Between the near ceiling height jackals, and away from the ancient glittering gold artifacts. A fleeting glance from you at the far most interior of the exhibit, and you felt it. A mixture of emotions. Guilt, wonder, and even skepticism. Since that fateful evening, you had not dared to utter a word about the incident. Unfortunately, there was your reputation to worry about. The dream career clutched tightly within your grasp as well. Besides, who in their right mind would believe you. It was outlandish. Ridiculous. Outrageously peculiar. And if it was late on a Halloween night, potentially terrifying.

Into the hallway, the pair of you headed straight toward the museum curator’s office. Though as you passed by a few guests, you found that the director was out in the lobby. The dress-suited man’s brows rose in recognition when he noticed the two of you. “Ah! I see that another day’s work has come to a close,” he smiled as you approached. “Yes. Thank you again for allowing us such access into the museum, Doctor McPhee.” “Of course,” he nodded, clasping his hands together. “I was enthralled to see if such an…investigative task would draw in more visitors.” As he glanced around, you held your breath. “However, no one quite attends the exhibits like they used to. They like the new and the exciting. Unless either of you found something worthwhile?” Your partner spoke up first. They seemed always ready when the situation demanded it. “Not yet. We still need to take time to translate the hieroglyphs.” “Right, right. They can’t possibly translate themselves, now can they?” Polite, and partially awkward laughter ensued for a few moments.

A decent amount of courage grew, and you knew that you had to ask. If not now, when? “Um, Doctor McPhee, we were hoping to complete more of our findings after the museum’s closing at night. To also avoid the possibility of disturbing the visitors during the day, and the overall normal functioning of the museum activities.” With a fading smile, the curator shook his head. “No, no. I’m afraid not. I appreciate your hard work, and wanting to maintain the integrity of the museum. But my answer is no.” A heaviness dropped within you. Despite that feeling, however, you smiled politely. “Thank you, anyway,” you nodded. “We understand completely,” your partner added. “Have a good evening.” As further pleasantries came to an end, you made your way to the exit. It was not unlike every other time, and yet, it was. The museum curator held the final word. Someone had to. You were just hoping to leave with an emotion other than disappointment.

Days had passed and you had yet to take a single step back into the museum. It was not so much that you were upset, but that other work needed to be done. Other responsibilities needed to be tended to. You could not stay in the museum forever. Recording the hieroglyphs more legibly and digitally. The time it tok to translate each symbol, and record your findings. As well as to share all of that information with other colleagues, and other such procedures. It could be overwhelming sometimes. What you could not let occupy your thoughts, was Ahkmenrah. Or at least not during work hours. You worried about him. What if he lost faith in you helping him? A stranger he could not see or touch. What if he was still waiting for you? Keeping someone waiting after making such a promise felt more awful as the days went by. But worse yet, what if the whole ordeal never happened in the first place?

Hours later, you woke up with a jolt. The phone was ringing. It was much too loud for you to deal with at the moment. “Hello?” “Okay, wake up!” Your colleague. “Look…I know it’s late…it’s uh…” Squinting in the dark, you glanced at the time. “So late that it’s almost tomorrow.” “Heheh, sorry about that. But this is important. You need to hurry to the museum.” Sudden alarm pushed aside any remaining tiredness and lulling thoughts of sleep. “Why? What’s wrong?” You asked in a rush, sitting up in bed. “Uh, not necessarily. Apparently, someone’s throwing a party.” Your nose scrunched at their words. “A party?” “Yeah. So, I was thinking that maybe we can get inside to check on our pharaoh.” Hope sprung in your chest and you swung out of bed. “Let me get dressed and I’ll be right over. Wait,” you paused in your rush. “Where are you?” “Out front.” They explained with a more casual tone to their voice. They’re playing great music, by the way. The light show is a little much though.“ You laughed. “Thank you for your commentary. I’ll see you soon.”

Minutes dragged on through the late night as you hurried to the museum. When you arrived, your colleague was just where they said they were. “This looks insanely out of place,” you said. Looking up at the building, it appeared as if all of the lights were in use. Not ailing to mention a number of them that seemed more fitted for a concert instead. “What,” they smiled beside you, “you’ve never partied among artifacts before?” You elected to not respond. And with the music pumping as it was, you did not feel like raising your voice to be heard.

A single head nod from your friend, and you both made your way up the front steps. At the top, the glass revealed an interesting party scene. Everyone indoors was dressed like the mannequins and statues from a variety of exhibits. You were about a second away from complimenting the accuracy in their wardrobe before you saw something else. There was no widely used technology like it, that you knew of. Even theaters and roaming exhibits used elaborate costuming and puppetry. The animals prancing fluidly were definitely neither. “That’s..a zebra,” your friend gawked. “There’s no way.” You glanced at each other in disbelief. “We’re either looking at something that we can never afford, or…witnessing something else entirely.” “They look like they’re enjoying themselves though. I mean—” Eventually, through your wide-eyed staring, someone approached. Dressed in dark navy, a museum nightguard made his way over and opened one of the doors. “Uh, hi. This is kinda a private party…so…” For the save, your friend spoke up. “I’m an archeologist. My colleague and I have been residing here for the past month cataloging the pharaoh’s hieroglyphs.” Though you were sure that they were going to say more, the nightguard’s face lit up with recognition. He was much younger than the three you had met on occasion. “Oh! Right,” he smiled. Gesturing at you, he added further. “And you’re the hieroglyphical—” “Egyptologist,” you corrected kindly. “Right. My apologies. I’m Larry, the new nightguard. It’s pretty late, um, did you need something, or left something inside?” He asked with genuine curiosity. You swallowed down your anxious nerves. “I would like to check on the sarcophagus, if you don’t mind.” Urgency pumped through your veins. Uncertainty hung in the air. Could your heart handle any more disappointment? “Oh, uh,” Larry checked behind him. “Yeah. Come on in.” Stepping aside, he let you both into the lively museum. “I’ll escort you over. Mind your step.”

“This is unreal.” Your friend awed beside you. The tyrannosaurus rex skeleton that typically posed on its perch at the entrance was not in its place. Instead, it was chasing after a little remote controlled car.

Leaving the main party scene, you sighed quietly to yourself. The hallway had a dramatic decrease in activity. Your ears, among your other senses, were grateful. Too much all at once was all too overwhelming.

To your right, the exhibit for the Pharaoh Ahkmenrah. “Don’t look up…jackals,” advised Larry. “Protectors of tombs. Anubis,” you recalled, eyeing your friend. “Hah, yeah, and they do take their job very seriously.” “As do we,” your friend said before placing a hand to your arm. Your heart dropped as you passed through the last archway. Stepping around Larry, you noticed something awful. Not only was the stone slab on the floor, but the lid to the sarcophagus had been opened. It was empty. Empty, with the exception of the ancient mummy’’s cloth wrappings. “Oh my,” you covered your mouth. Staring down into the sarcophagus, you could hardly believe your eyes. “It’s open. Who took the mummy out? No one here is authorized.” Larry put his hands up defensively. “No one took the mummy, he walked out.” Staring at the man, your eyes narrowed a fraction. “Walked out?” “Yeah,” he shrugged awkwardly. “He does that. Well, I mean, he technically has to climb out of there…” “Since when?” You asked, remembering that night more clearly. “He was trapped, and the other nightguards wouldn’t let him out.” “He—you know a lot.” Larry paused, looking as confused as your colleague. “How do you know that?” “I was here later than expected, accidentally. I was working.” “Okay, I’m gonna have to ask you about that later,” your friend pointed out. “But where is he, because my Brendan Fraser impression isn’t great.”

By the sound of approaching footsteps, you all turned around. There, walking up the pathway into the exhibit was someone wearing a complete ancient Egyptian pharaoh outfit. The gold gleamed off even in the dim lighting. “Oh, hey, Ahk,” Larry greeted, striding toward the young man. “I have some people who would like to meet you.” Puzzled, you were sure your entire face scrunched in your bewilderment. “Ahk?” Larry smiled between the pair of you. “Yeah, Ahk—” “Hello. I am Ahkmenrah. Fourth King of the Fourth King. Ruler of the land of my fathers.” “Well, shit,” your colleague squeaked out quietly. Familiarity echoed in your ears. That introduction was the exact same that you were given so many nights ago. His voice, though much clearer, was almost striking to hear. And his youthful face? It reminded you of the digital facial reconstructions performed from thorough scans. Ones of which that were not shared with the public for some reason. Though it was from a few years ago, the likeness was uncanny. “Oh my gosh,” you murmured. Tears began to well up around your eyes as you looked at him. Ahkmenrah’s dark brows curved up in curious worry. “Apparently you two have met,” Larry explained. “Like, before I worked here.” The Pharaoh’s eyes widened, understanding. Slowly, he approached you with gold bracelet bound arms extending outward. In the next moment, you found yourself in a tender embrace. “I’m sorry,” you whispered to him. “I’m sorry I could not free you sooner or find a way like I had promised.” “It’s quite alright,” he assured. His hands remained to the upper portion of your back, thumbs rubbing gently. Leaning out of the embrace, he looked to you with soft brown eyes. “Larry, Guardian of Brooklyn, freed me. And so I was able to restore order to the museum.” Your brows nearly shot up to your hairline. “Oh.” Restore order? What was—? Ahkmenrah’s eyes looked between your own as you stilled in place. At such a close distance, you took notice of the pharaoh’s attire. Ancient gold and fabrics. Intricate beadwork that was supposed to be inside their proper display cases. All for their protection and preservation. And you were touching it with your bare hands. A small intake of air lead to you hardly breathing at all. “What’s the matter?” Asked of Ahkmenrah, his face downcast in his concern. “I shouldn’t be touching this without the proper gloves,” you stared in horror. Fingertips shaking over polished blue beads. “I won’t tell,” your friend piped up with a shrug. “Breathe.” Stepping back carefully, you took a steadying breath to calm yourself. The pharaoh’s hands slipping down to your arms. Again, your friend spoke up. This time, they directed themselves toward the museum’s nightguard. “Is there any other surprises?” They asked, looking around. “Like…uh, the tablet glowing?” “Glowing?” You peered behind you. “Yep, it’s glowing. Does it…do that at night?” Ahkmenrah nodded. “After the sun sets each evening.” You gawked at the golden tablet across the room. “I’m not going to believe any of this in the morning.”

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

Thank you for reading!

[sketchedboba]

"A Green Queen" AU

Prologue Part II

A toad was sent to the warp-pipe that afternoon and as planned a troopa had taken it to the king.

Bowser reviewed the response quickly and returned a letter back within the hour, notifying the princess that he'd peacefully arrive to discuss the situation that very evening.

So there they were, along with Toad, stared daringly at the smokey flying castle landing on a hill in the distance. Peach had made sure to include that the demands along with everything that included Luigi's safety to be discussed over dinner. She didn't want to leave room for misunderstandings or loopholes this time around.

Once they had made it to the castle dining room, surely Luigi would have a clear head and make a better decision, right?

The King Koopa had agreed to meet them but was told he could attend as long as his ship and army were at the edge of the Mushroom kingdom.

Over everything, Peach wanted to ensure the safety and comfortability of her subjects which meant she needed to have the tension relieves from both sides.

In addition to the distance and to make things fair for him, had settled with Bowser having a handful of his own guards escorting him along with his magik koopa, Kamek.

The curfew was in effect by the time he and his troops arrived at the town. The windows of the small huts and homes were shut tight, shops were closed, and the streets were empty.

Bowser grinned at the sight and with a claw simply plucked an apple from a sales crate, but as he was about to eat it, Kamek butted in.

"Your Highness, we are here on a temporary truce. Please don't eat their resources without payment..."

Bowser huffed, "Yeah yeah, just wanted a snack before we get there..". He flicked the puncture apple at the crate but the force knocked several of the apples out onto the ground. "Ugh, clean this up."

The koopas behind him nodded as they scrambled to pick up the apples. Bowser yawned and headed forward with the remaining troops and Kamek while they finished up.

The floor quaked as Bowser and his party made it to the main entrance, once they stopped, a stillness tainted the air. His scales rivaled the sun's and his eyes almost seemed calm as he gazed down at the group. Too calm.

"Princess."

"Bowser."

They had bowed to one another, the mushroom guards behind her simply glanced at each other. They were astonished by the king's composure that one of their helmets slumped over their eyes.

"It must be hard for you to see I've taken slight interest in another, but don't worry. I only intend on puni-"

Luigi's breath hitched while Mario narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

Kamek interrupted, getting in front of the King while gritting his teeth, "Your highness! Like we practiced." He turned back to the group and gave a nervous chuckle as he moved aside to let the tall koopa speak.

The King raised an eyebrow at the magikoopa, a bit confused, but once it clicked he cleared his throat and spoke, "Right... I intend to treat him like a 'queen'...."

Peach looked a bit uncertain, but nodded, "W-We can talk about the details in the dining room. Mario and I will catch up with you all in a moment. The guards will safely escort you and Luigi there."

"What?!", The bros yelled.

Mario looked more pissed than he had been before the agreement, "You can't let this-this overgrown lizard go in with my brother alone!"

"I am RIGHT here!", Bowser rumbler, smoke snorted from his nostrils as he looked over to the short plumber.

Peach, sensed the hostility, gently addressed that she only wanted to let them go ahead first because Bowser and his troops were unfamiliar with the castle, "You two can talk about the simple terms towards your.. 'demands'..."

Bowser lifted his claw to his chin and scratched it slightly. Kamek whispered something to him which lit up his expression. He grinned and stepped past the guards,"Fine, lead the way short shack."

The mushroom guards looked at each other then hurried past Bowser to lead him and three of his koopa troopa inside.

"We also need to talk..", Peach noted as she turned to Mario.

Mario took off his hat and walked over to the ledge of the rounded fountain. He rubbed the bridge between his clenched eyebrows and thoughts and scenarios played through his head.

Mario sighed, defeated. He watched as his brother and Bowser walked inside. The uncertainty and worry in Mario's eyes merely reflected his brother's silhouette.

The Princess walked over slowly and sat down beside him, "I don't know entirely what he's thinking about all of this. It's like you mentioned earlier, you're both citizens but I don't have complete say in what you do, but... Luigi is tougher than he looks and he is just as noble as any ruler. I can understand it being hard to let go of a loved one, even if it's just temporary but if he chooses to go with Bowser.. you might have to accept that as his answer right now."

"I know you mean well, and I know the plan was to have him take your place when we rescue you then get him out during the wedding. But now you both want him to go back with that rampaging trashy turtle?! I.. why?!"

Mario looked up at her as he placed his cap back on, then turned his gaze out at the kingdom and the warm lantern lights below. "Of course, but that's exactly what worries me. Him choosing this, choosing to go and this decision being the reason he's hurt even more."

"...Ugh. You, green mustached one. You look... well?"

In the castle, the group made it to the lavish dining room. The silverware and appetizers were set out on the table already which caused Luigi to instinctively lick his lips with the savory aroma filling the air.

The guards of each kingdom took to their posts as Bowser decided to take his seat and patiently wait. Luigi frantically glanced at what he was doing and followed slightly.

He sat at a seat near the middle of the long dining table, while Bowser took the far end away from him. Several chef and staff Toads were setting down the last of the food and were finally getting the glasses for drinks. Kamek whispered something to the calm king as he glanced over at the tiny man, who was now fiddling with his thumbs.

"I usually sleep in early and have a little routine I do before bed. I have this nice air purifier, so I can..", Luigi went on.

"Huh?", Luigi looked up at him confused.

'Was this his attempt at a compliment? Should I respond? Maybe compliment him?'

Bowser glared at Kamek then raised his hand to silence his rambling. Luigi flinched, but kept his mouth shut, shaking. "I'm not interested in whatever nightly rituals you perform. I just came here to get a Queen."

"Why do you... want a queen? I-If you don't mind me asking."

The King grumbled, "I don't have to explain my reasons to someone who flinches at the mere sight of my claw.". Despite that, he enjoyed the fact that he could instill fear in the plumber, unlike his measley brother.

Luigi sat up his seat, not really liking the answer he got but looked back at his thumbs, defeated; he then tried to chuckle the comment off, hoping he'd feel better if he just ignored it. "R-Right.."

A few moments later, and a guard announced the princess and Mario entering the dining room.

She couldn't understand their silent argument either.

As they entered, she gracefully walked to the other end of the table and sat down. Luigi glanced up and noticed Bowser's eyes wander as he followed her every move.

Mario quickly motioned for Luigi to move over to his end of the table,but his brother protested at first which lead the fiery lizard to awkwardly look at Peach for clarification.

As he watched for a minute, Bowser smirked at Mario's anger and decided to add to it. "Since he is to rule by my side, shouldn't he sit next to me? He will be by my side regardless.", The King demanded.

The Princess sensed where this was going, "Actually, I think the seating placement is fine. Luigi can stay where he is."

Bowser, not completely pleased by this, growled with content since he was still closer to him than his brother. A small grin plastered on his face as he looked over to the red mustached human.

Mario, now standing, sat down abruptly. Holding his furious gaze at the lizard.

"Now.." she started. "You.. had mentioned that you'd like your queen? If I remember correctly, you and Luigi aren't entirely married, since the papers were forged. Up until the point of reveal, you had no idea it was him signing them."

"Well yes. I was furious that you would pull such a scheme, Princess. You know my flames only burn for your affection. However, the laws here are different from our customs. Signature doesn't matter, but who signs it does. Even if he used your signature, he signed it physically. As for the wedding, it's more of a customary thing, I enjoy planning those kinds of events. As I said in my letter however, the green one and I are officially married.", The King grumbled. His claws digging into the chair's handles and he clenched his jaws.

"What?!"

Mario looked over at the Princess who tensed up from the realization that Bowser was truly going to force him into it. She stared at Bowser for a bit, trying to find an ounce of malice, but to no avail the king was telling the truth.

Mario noticed her look of concern almost like she'd given into his demands, but put his anger aside for a moment to reevaluate the situation.

"So you're saying that my brother, even though he signed in the disguise as the princess, is still LEGALLY married to you? How does that even work? That doesn't make sense! It should be terminated since it was a fraud!"

Bowser grumbled, but as Kamek cleared his throat, he calmed down. "His highness, has the paperwork as well as a copy of our laws to prove it and the ceremony was only there to officiate their partnership, but the documents regardless of whether it was the princess or not, state that he will be married to the king. The mustachioed human IS the Queen of the Koopas... at least in writing.."

"What...what does that mean?", Peach asked.

Kamek looked to Bowser to speak only for him to wave his claws. "Well, a queen is allowed to rule for a year, if she finds the king to be an unfit partner, if he is... sterile, or doesn't accept the king entirely, the queen can leave. In addition to this, the queen isn't entirely the ruler until six months have passed, because of...egg season.."

The King interrupted him, "But, we've decided since this was somewhat of a mix up, we're generously demanding that I keep him for the year, so we can disregard that incident."

"And?" Kamek chimed in.

Bowser sighed, "And, to dismiss the marriage documents. He can reject me or whatever by the end of the year."

"And what if he refuses?", She answered. Mustering up the courage to speak.

Luigi quivered at the thought of being stuck with Bowser for months on end, in the Darklands no less.

The Princess was still processing all of this and tried to dig out some kind of loophole.

"One way or another, I am taking him with me.", Bowser said. He looked down at her as he was taking a sip of the soup from the tiny spoon.

Mario protested, "I refuse! You have to be pulling this shit out of your ragged ass! If you think you can just waltz in here and demand-"

"Mario!", Peach gasped.

Mario was about to say something else, but turned to his brother, dread filling his eyes. "Luigi?"

"I'll do it."

"W-With your permission Princess Peach. I will go with the king as his.....Queen..", Luigi gulped finally looking up from his plate at her.

She smiled a bit, but before she could speak, ended up taken aback as Mario bolted from his chair and rushed over to Luigi.

"You can't be serious! I thought you were just messing around earlier, b-but you can'-"

"I-I'm completely serious!"

"Luigi, look me in the eyes and tell me you're one hundred percent certain and guaranteed fine spending five minutes in the same room, ALONE with the komodo dragon wannabe over there!", He said in one breath.

Luigi didn't look at him, he didn't move. His eyes were glued on the Princess, still determined to wait for her answer.

Mario knew nothing he was saying would get through to him. He remembered what Peach had said at the fountain and as he removed his hands from Luigi's shoulders, he looked at Peach awaiting her response.

The Princess knew she'd hear an earful about this later, but could see the courage in Luigi's eyes. She felt a sense of pride in seeing him boldly take this leap, but also guilt that she was partially to blame.

"A-Also, I'd like to visit at the end of each month...", Luigi added.

"I, Princess Peach of the Mushroom kingdom, agree with your demands King of the Koopas. Luigi may be your queen, but if a year passes and he is displeased with the position and marriage. You WILL let him go, no retaliation, no attacks, and no outrageous schemes to get him back. Do you agree with these conditions?"

The King grinned, knowing he couldn't lose either way, but was still conflicted about the visits. He didn't want the two to conspire, but he'll consider how to conduct the visits later.

".... Fine."

The Princess let out a breath of relief and gave a simple smile as the last of her stress escaped. Bowser looked over at her and announced that a group of soldiers and his general will retrieve Luigi tomorrow evening.

"Dress accordingly, your duties as my Queen start that night, so prepare yourself.", Bowser smirked, a deep roar building as he spoke.

Luigi nodded, not sure what he'd wear, or why he'd start so soon. He looked over to his brother, proud that he stood so firm in his decision, all on his own only to see Mario, defeated. He had the frill of his hat over his eyes as he finished up his soup then walked off into the corridors cursing under his breath.

"Fine, but we'll be back tomorrow for him."

The taller of the two had a shock of pain fly across his face, he knew Mario only retreated this badly if he was in serious distress and excused himself from the table.

Bowser rolled his eyes as he stood up to interject, he couldn't understand what the big deal was, he got what he wanted. The Toad guards defensively crossed their staffs to stop him and though he could easily crush their toothpicks, he simply sat down and finished the free meal.

End of the Prologue

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Proposal

Part One of Three Years

Masterlist | Year One

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only.

Length: 4.3K

Notes: ....Hi! This is the first of 2-3 fic drops. I'm hoping to push all five chapters of this fic out this weekend. Also I started writing this before the current AI market explosion. Not beta-read. Never beta-read.

Warnings: Cursing; angst; enemies to enemies who fuck; tech-talk; angst (I know I said it before but really); Nathan being Nathan

Summary: He’s shorter than you thought he’d be.

Nathan Bateman isn’t unattractive, or short, even, he’s just…Shorter. 

Of all of the things that you thought you’d feel about Nathan Bateman’s visit, surprised wasn’t what you thought would be first. Shit-scared, sure. Insanely nervous, absolutely. Surprised by his height? Not on your list.

“This could be huge for us.” 

Jenn looks at once desperate and wild-eyed as she paces in her office. You watch her closely, taking in the dark circles under her dark eyes. Her typically California-tan skin is pallid from her recent late nights, and her days spent indoors. The company is running her ragged—and this potential seed money from Nathan Bateman is throwing her into the craziest tizzy you’ve ever seen. She sweeps her hands through her frizzed auburn hair before she raises her nails to her mouth.

“I mean,” She mutters, continuing to pace, voice muffled as she chews her nails, “If we get Bateman’s backing, that’d be great, but if I can get him on the board.” She stops finally, turning to face you, lowering her chewed nails from her mouth. “That would send us into the fucking stratosphere.” 

“...Okay,” You sit up a touch. You don’t want to be a buzzkill, but you need to bring Jenn down from the fucking stratosphere. “Nathan Bateman has scheduled a meeting. Okay? A meeting. One,” You raise your finger. 

“He’s having his team go over our numbers—” 

“I know that. He’s doing the due diligence that anyone coming in would be expected to do. Just, don’t put all of your eggs in one basket when we haven’t even gotten the basket yet.” 

“Come on,” Jenn groans. “I could be the next Steve Jobs!” 

“Yes, you absolutely could. But if you keep putting your focus on the idea stuff and not on the structure and application stuff, you’re going to be the next Elizabeth Holmes. And honey, I love you, but you do not look good in orange.” 

Jenn deflates just a little, slouching back against the windows that stretch from the floor to the ceiling. 

“...It clashes with my hair,” She grumbles. 

“I’m not saying don’t be excited at all," You insist, "I’m just saying…We’re bringing him in to talk about financing. How freaked out would you be if you went on a first date with someone and instead of asking for a second date, they said, Hey this was fun, let’s get married.”

“...Pretty freaked.” 

“Right. And asking someone to join the board is like a business-y 3.5 carat pear cut diamond on an infinity band. So. Let's schedule an All Hands, give the team a heads up, get them prepped. Before that, though, we need to get you some fucking lunch and some sunshine.” 

“You’re my sunshine.” 

“Awww,” You coo before you get up, adding, “Seriously. Get your phone and your sunglasses, we’re going out.” 

“But I have an email from prod—” 

“Production about the user profile settings set to drop at the end of the week. I know, I answered it already. Phone. Sunglasses. Lunch. Let’s go.” 

"You'll be here, right?"

You frown, shaking your head in slight confusion, and Jenn clarifies: "For his tour. You'll be here?"

You consider, glancing at your phone. If you can get the time off—but that's no guarantee.

"I'll try."

--  

When Jenn started Sc(ai)le three years ago, you’d had no idea that it would take off the way it would. You knew that Jenn was brilliant, you’d never had a doubt about that. But you couldn’t have anticipated how quickly varying industries moved to scale AI. Jenn had assembled a team of engineers, scientists, and sales reps. She trusts her teams, and they work hard to keep the company in motion.

But Jenn still insists in being very much hands-on everywhere she possibly can, sometimes to hers and the company’s detriment. She needs a Chief Knowledge officer, a Chief Information officer, and a Chief Marketing officer. She has a Chief Tech officer, a Chief Financial officer, a Chief Compliance officer, a Chief Data officer—all incredibly knowledgeable in their fields. She wants a board, too, but you’re worried that the company may still be too young for it. 

You work with the SVP of Marketing now and again, helping her to manage the way marketing materials are created, where they’re stored, and how they’re distributed. You’re working with Sc(ai)le part-time, on a temporary basis (though it’s technically been ‘temporary’ since the company started). Jenn needs an official team, with people that can work with her full-fucking-time. You have a full-time job at a separate tech company, one that’s well away from the AI space. You’d been worried their hackles would be raised when you informed them that you’d be taking a part-time position elsewhere, but they hadn’t even flinched. 

Hell, your manager had asked you if you’d be able to get them an employee discount. You may just have to take a few days off for Bateman’s visit.

You don’t blame Jenn for being so excited, or so nervous. 

Nathan fucking Bateman? This is huge. 

But if both of you have your heads in the fucking clouds, neither of you are gonna make it out of orbit. So you’ll keep yourself grounded, and bring Jenn back down to Earth if you absolutely have to. 

-- 

He’s shorter than you thought he’d be.

Nathan Bateman isn’t unattractive, or short, even, he’s just…Shorter. 

Of all of the things that you thought you’d feel about Nathan Bateman’s visit, surprised wasn’t what you thought would be first. Shit-scared, sure. Insanely nervous, absolutely. Surprised by his height? Not on your list.

You glance over at Jenn to find her tipping her chin up, slapping on her I Should Be On the Cover of Forbes smile. It’s the smile that’s brought every other investor on board. It’s the smile that’s brought on every single team member in the company. Now, you can only hope that it’ll bring Nathan Bateman into her coffers.

Where you’d typically leave Jenn to finesse any other investor, you stick close by. You trail Bateman and Jenn by a few steps as she directs him around the offices, and the facility. 

He asks a fair number of questions. A few are unexpected, but for the most part, they’re things that you and Jenn had anticipated. The three of you come to a stop overlooking a row of engineers. You don’t want to appear nonchalant, but with Bateman and Jenn focused elsewhere, you allow yourself to lean back against the wall, eyeing the room. It’s then that you see an engineer flagging you down, a harried look on her face. You glance toward Bateman and Jenn’s heads and make sure they’re distracted before you push yourself off of the wall, skirting around the two and walking over to her as calmly as possible. 

“What’s up?” You ask, crouching down beside the engineer’s desk. 

“The marketing team sent through a brief about the user profiles—” 

“Uh-huh—” 

“And there’s an error regarding the, uh—The functionality.” 

“Okay. Where’s the problem, what’s the fix?” 

“Our systems are starting at Mac- or Blue-OS compatible.” 

“But not Windows?” 

“Most of the companies we use don’t touch Windows OS anymore.” 

“But we have got a few clients that do.” 

“Yes, we’re—We’re working on it. But this can’t go out like this, it’s not correct.” 

“Okay,” You nod, mind racing through the possible, necessary fixes. “Okay. Could I use your laptop for a second?” 

“Sure.” 

The engineer starts to stand, but you wave her back into her seat, just turn the laptop toward yourself. You hurriedly log into your email on a web page, and tap out an email to the marketing SVP. 

“Mac and Blue only,” You reiterate as you type. 

“—But not Windows, yep.” 

“Do we have an expected date on Windows functionality?” 

“Q2 of next year—Maybe Q1, but—” 

“We don’t wanna over-promise and underdeliver,” You shoot the engineer a smile. “I appreciate the honesty.” 

The engineer nods hurriedly. You feel her casting a glance behind you, but you’re already turning back to the laptop, practically hammering the keys as you send out the message. You lean back, reading and rereading the message before you CC your work email, Jenn’s, and the engineer in question. Then you send it, straighten up, and sign out of the email. 

“I’ve put myself and Jenn on the email, we will take it from here. Thank you so much for flagging that—And if anything comes up, please text, email, slack me. Anything.” 

“Thank you!” 

“No, thank you,” You insist, patting her shoulder. You straighten and turn, and freeze immediately at the sight of Jenn and Bateman standing just behind you. You swallow thickly, fighting to keep a straight face. 

“I didn’t mean to hold up the tour,” You apologize. “You guys could’ve moved on, I would’ve caught up.” 

“Everything alright?” Bateman asks, nodding toward the engineer. 

“Yes. Just a little communications update.” You give them both a reassured smile. “Why don’t we continue?” You add, nodding down the hall. 

--  

“What are you doing for dinner tomorrow?” 

It’s a question that he should be asking Jenn, and that’s why your mouth works wordlessly, your brow furrowing heavily. It’s a bad look—Nathan Bateman has asked you a simple question, and you’re floundering like a landed fish. 

“Uh—Shoving something in the microwave, probably?” You manage with a shaky laugh as you put your laptop into your bag. You haven't been able to take the time off as much time as you’d hoped, and you’ll have to make up what time you have taken to keep yourself on track. “I’m working a double, so, I’ll get off shift around one in the morning.” 

“A double.” 

“...Yes? It’s when you work two shifts at—” 

“I know what a double is.” 

Jeez, of course he does. 

“Right. Sorry. You seemed—...Anyway.” 

“I seemed what?” 

Confused is the wrong word to use with this man. 

“Inquisitive?” You offer. Nathan’s brows tip impossibly higher, his chin angling down to gaze at you over the tops of his glasses. 

“One,” He finally confirms. “How’s 1:30 for you?” 

“For what?” 

“For dinner.” 

“I—I don’t think I’ve ever eaten dinner that late in my life. I don’t even go out that late anymore.” 

“But you’ll make an exception?” 

“Do I have to?” 

When he smiles, you know that you will have to. 

“I’ll send you the details.” 

That’s it. He breezes away from your desk space. He doesn’t offer to walk you to your car; he doesn’t ask you any questions about what you want to eat, or what you like to eat. He just walks away. You look after him for a moment before you look down, taking up your laptop chord and wrapping it with a mutter of, 

“Dinner at 1:30 in the morning? Not in fucking college anymore…What’s even gonna be open that late for fucking dinner?” 

You think, and then giggle. 

Maybe Nathan Bateman is going to take you to McDonald’s. 

--  

“You ever been here before?” 

“Uhh…” You peer down at the menu. It’s timeworn, and splattered with what look like gravy stains. At least—well, you hope it’s gravy. “Nope, can’t say I have.” 

The diner has a vintage bent to it. The seats are all coated in robin’s egg blue vinyl; the floor is tiled like a checkerboard; the walls are pepto-pink. There’s a jukebox in the corner, but the oldies being played in the diner are coming from a few recessed speakers in the ceiling. You glance up again as you hear Bateman shifting in his seat. He’s lounging back in his seat like he owns the damn place. 

…Maybe he does own the damn place. 

It could explain why they’re open so late, at least. There are a few other people in the diner, a ways away. Now and again, an explosive swell of cackling laughter will pass over your way before one of their party hurries to hush them. You glance back curiously as you hear one of them add, 

“Dude, you’re gonna get us kicked out again.” 

“So how long have you known Jenn?” Bateman asks. 

“Oh, gosh,” You turn back to him. “Since Kindergarten. She’s my oldest friend.” 

“You two seemed pretty close during the tour yesterday.” 

“Did we?” 

“Insomuch as you were her shadow.” 

You close your mouth, reaching for your water. You had shadowed because Jenn had asked—but you’re in no position to quibble with this man. You’ve no need, either; he goes on: 

“How was your double?” 

“It was fine.” 

“What are you working on?” 

“I work at a company that produces technical books and longform guides for—” 

“I know where you work, that wasn’t my question. What are you working on.” 

The bored, irritated tone in his voice raises your hackles, and it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. But you swallow your annoyance in favor of giving a straightforward answer: “Right now, a quantum software engineering roadmap.” 

“Are you enjoying it?” 

“The writing can be a little dry, but the subject matter is interesting.” 

“Hm…” Bateman nods, his eyes sweeping your face curiously. You fight the urge to shift or fidget under the scrutiny of his gaze. 

Can you ask questions? Are you allowed? Why does this man make you feel like you’re in a damn interview? Your gazes break as a waitress comes over, a pad in hand and an expectant smile on her face. You instinctively offer her one in return as you order. You don’t really hear what Bateman orders; you’re too busy wracking your mind for things that came up on yesterday’s tour—pain points, questions that Jenn promised she’d get back to him on. 

“So,” Bateman’s voice snaps your focus back to him, and you arch your brows as you meet his eyes again. “In your opinion, what’s the company lacking?” 

It’s a slap of a question. Your brows manage to inch higher. Oh…God. No wonder he didn’t want to do this with Jenn around.

“Uh…” Is your initial succinct answer. You clear your throat, taking your glass up for another sip, gathering yourself. You could say that Jenn has everything she needs, save for capital. You could say that the team is rowing as one one, your little unsinkable ship, the Sc(ai)le. 

But Nathan Bateman is a genius, and a billionaire, and a man with a low tolerance for bullshit. 

“She needs a complete C-Suite,” You admit firmly as you set your glass aside. “She needs a solid, knowledgeable team behind her. We’re doing the best that we can now, and the Chief positions that she has filled are pushing the company in the right direction, but the ones that she doesn’t are slowing down growth. We need a CMO and a CKO and a CIO, like...Yesterday. We have a lot of data, and we have a lot of marketing materials—and the seniors VPs in those positions are doing the best they can, but you can only fill a leaky bucket so many times before the handle breaks. The company doesn’t have the capital to bring those positions on, and until it does, the company’s going to continue to grow at half-speed because the plane’s being flown while it's still being built."

Bateman doesn’t react for a moment. His silence makes your stomach twist with nerves; your palms are sweating. 

“I didn’t think you’d say that,” He finally says. You can’t help but laugh a little. 

“Look—I could tell you that we’re all one happy family, and that the only thing wrong is the fact that bluebirds don’t land on our shoulders and code for us—” Your stomach flips as Bateman’s lips twitch with a smile, “But you’ve already been inside. You’ve looked through our books, you’ve seen the facility. And if you’re going to go in on investment, you’re going to see the dirty laundry anyway. I may as well show you where the hamper is.” 

“You like your metaphors.” 

“It’s the writer in me.” 

Bateman’s brow quirks a touch as he nods. 

“...Why aren’t you full time?” He asks. That question throws you for a loop. You shake your head a little—like it’ll knock an answer loose. But the answer—the truth—is that you and Jenn haven’t worked well together in the past. Sure, you’re part-time now, but you hardly ever interfere with her day-to-day unless it’s to coax her out of her office to get some air or a meal. You prefer to take your time with a project, and Sc(ai)le is in a growth period where time is of the essence. 

“...It’s not…” You start, brow furrowing as you grapple for a reasonable answer, “What Sc(ai)le does, it isn’t what I do.” 

“The company has technical writers.” 

“...Yeah—” 

“It needs someone that knows how to compile the information, translate it for the average consumer—” 

“But—” 

“Just tell me they can’t afford you.”  

Your chest twinges with indignation. 

“That’s not true,” You insist. 

“So they can afford you.” 

“That’s not what I—” 

“Which one is it?” 

“You’re twisting my words, and I don’t appreciate that.” It leaves you more harshly than it should, and you damn your tone immediately. There’s no way scolding this man is gonna bring him on board. You realize that your shoulders have scrunched defensively and risen toward your ears, and you force yourself to relax them. But Nathan’s lips just twitch again, his eyes bright with amusement. 

“...Why aren’t you full-time?” He repeats. 

“I told you. This isn’t what I do.” 

“It could be.” 

You don’t want to make the concession, but the look on Bateman’s face tells you that he’s got you pinned. So you give a small, begrudging nod. 

“Hypothetically.” 

His smile widens at your confirmation. You want to smack him. 

But that really won’t bring him on board. 

--  

You expect Jenn to grill you for your time with Nathan the second you get in, but she’s grabbing your hand and hissing, “He’s here, and he’s waiting.” 

“What?” You ask dazedly, pulling your sleeve back to eye the watch face where it rests on the inside of your wrist. “He’s not supposed to be here for another two hours! I didn’t see an email—”

“He didn’t send one! He just showed up!”

You pull Jenn to a stop in the hall, slowing her with a gentle, “Whoa, whoa—Okay. Look at me.” 

Jenn stops, eyes wide, head shaking minutely as she tries to continue walking toward the conference room, insisting, “We’re already late—” 

“Slow down!” You urge. She looks stricken, and you immediately feel guilty. You take her hand in yours, giving it a squeeze before drawing in a deep breath. Jenn hesitantly does the same, pushing it out when you do. You draw in another, and are relieved as she copies you, some of the tension melting from her face as she closes her eyes. You watch her pull in and push out one more deep breath before she opens her eyes slowly, nodding. 

“Thank you,” She breathes, patting your hand before she tugs down the hall again. 

--  

“I like what I’m seeing.” 

Bateman’s assertion shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. Sc(ai)le is a good company, something that would make sense in his portfolio. But he’s so steady and calm as he peers out of the office of Jenn’s window. 

You don’t like how he’s commandeered the space behind her desk. She shouldn’t be sitting on the other side of it with you; she should be behind it, with him—or he should be on your side. 

Still, Nathan pushes himself off of the window, turning to face Jenn. His gaze flickers to you before he looks down at something laid out on the desk. 

“Your initial proposal was…Whadda we got here…” Bateman tuts as he turns a page. You think he must be dragging it out for suspense—there’s no way he doesn’t have those numbers memorized. Sure, it must be chump change to him, but it’s still a big fucking number. “One million for a fifteen percent stake in the company.” 

“That’s right,” Jenn nods. 

“I’ll give you four.” 

“...Four?” Jenn repeats dazedly. 

“Four million for what percent?” You ask before she can leap up, kiss the man on the lips, and accept. 

“Fifteen,” Bateman affirms. Your eyes narrow at him. This doesn’t feel right. He adds, “I have one condition, though.” 

“Name it,” Jenn nods. You glance at her nervously. You’re certain that if he told her to strip naked and run through the office covered in spray cheese, she’d do it right this second. 

“You come on as CKO, CIO, and CMO.”

Your brow furrows as Jenn turns to you. Who comes on? Jenn? She’s already CEO for fuckssake—

And then Jenn turns to you, eyes wide and insistent as she nods toward Bateman. Your head snaps to him, stunned. He’s waiting with that same patient, bored expression that he'd given you with all throughout dinner. 

“You want me to take on three C-Suite positions?” You ask, brows raising. “Are you that strapped for cash that you won’t spring for two more people?” 

Jenn hisses your name in warning. You know it’s the wrong thing to say, but to your surprise, Bateman just smiles and leans against Jenn’s desk. 

“Hear me out,” He waves your irritation off. “I want to roll the positions of CKO and CIO into one. Chief Knowledge and Information officer.” 

“And add Chief Marketing officer on top of them.” 

“That’s right. You’re much quicker on the uptake than you were the other night. No, it’s alright—I’m sure the double shift and the late dinner had you off your game.” 

You want to argue, but Nathan is already turning his attention to Jenn. 

“Four mill for a fifteen percent stake,” He reiterates before nodding toward you. “And her.” 

What would Jenn get if you didn’t come on? One million at fifteen? Two million at thirty? Nothing at all? You can’t bring yourself to look at Jenn just now—you know you’re getting a pleading expression. So you keep your eyes on Bateman, and his expectant expression. He knows he’s got you backed into a corner. 

“...Does this condition have a term limit?” You ask. Bateman purses his lips, seeming to think for a moment. Then he levels you with an ungodly answer:

“Three years.” 

You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut. You only just manage not to double over with it. Three years. Three years inhabiting two positions that you never wanted or asked for. Three years working with your oldest friend on her passion project, knowing that you will lock horns on approach. Three years of Nathan Bateman hanging over your head. 

You can’t face Jenn. One look at those hopeful, doe-like eyes and you’re going to fold like a house of cards. You can’t look at Bateman. One look at him and you’re going to lunge in, slap him silly, and ask what the fuck is wrong with him. 

You look down at your lap. 

Three years. Three years or what? Nathan pulls his backing? Asks for repayment? That could level the company, and everything that Jenn has worked for would disappear overnight. 

Three years. 

You don’t ask about the pay. You don’t care about that. You’re not doing badly as it is. Two C-Suite positions (well, three) would surely pay you more than you make now, but still. 

Three years. 

You’ve been considering leaving your current job. You’ve been chugging along happily, though you’ve started to get too settled, too bored. Too complacent. But you've been ducking away from management positions at job after job because you just don't want to be in charge of people. You want to be fully in the action, working on the words, not floating above them and giving them a thumbs up or a thumbs down. This isn’t like anything you’d consider throwing yourself into. 

Three years. 

This is bigger than you and Jenn. Pumping more money into this company would give Sc(ai)le the chance to expand its staff, upgrade it's tech, bring on a more comprehensive QA team.

You draw in a deep breath, giving a small hesitant nod. 

“Alright,” Leaves your mouth before you can talk yourself out of it. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Bateman bats back without missing a beat. You can hear a note of triumph there, one that makes you want to reach into his throat and rip out his layrnx. Jenn is springing out of her seat, pumping Bateman’s hand enthusiastically and telling him that he won’t regret it. You’re staring down at your hands, your head and chest feeling hollow, like you’ve just been jailed for three consecutive life sentences. 

Three years. 

Bateman’s hand enters your field of vision, outstretched and patient. You eye it for a moment. 

You could still tell him to go fuck himself. But you glance up at Jenn, and find her beaming down at you. Her eyes are bright with joyful tears; her hands are clasped to keep from visibly shaking. 

You can’t tell him to go fuck himself, and he knows it.

So you suck in a deep breath and raise your hand, shaking Bateman’s without meeting his gaze. 

“We should grab a drink to celebrate,” He insists. You let go of his hand and push yourself up shakily. 

“I—Have some things I need to sort out. You two go on,” You add, slapping on an encouraging smile and turning to Jenn. 

“Sure,” Bateman concedes. “You have a letter of resignation to write.” 

You pat Jenn’s shoulder on the way out, hardly meeting Bateman's eye as you go. You get into your car, and drive back to your apartment. You mechanically unlock your door, drop your keys in the bowl by the entryway, kick your door shut. You don’t bother to turn the lights on. The sun is streaming in through your front window with a vengeance. You walk over to your bar cart and take up a bottle of whiskey. You don’t bother with a glass. You just plop into your favorite armchair and curl up. You don’t cry. You don’t scream. You just stare blankly at the wall. 

Three years. 

Next Part: Year One

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ;  @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @aellynera ; @writefightandflightclub ; @thedukeofcaladan ; @beepboopyoda ; @foxilayde ; @revolution-starter ; @rachelwritesstuff ; @queen-of-elves

[scalessalesservices]

Innovative Pallet Jack Scale Technologies for Nebraska Businesses

In the rapidly evolving landscape of logistics and supply chain management, technology plays a crucial role in enhancing efficiency and accuracy. For businesses in Nebraska, the adoption of innovative pallet jack scale technologies is transforming how inventory is managed, goods are weighed, and operations are streamlined. These advanced scales offer more than just weight measurements; they integrate with broader warehouse management systems, improve accuracy, and enhance overall productivity. This article explores the latest pallet jack scale technologies available to Nebraska businesses and how they can revolutionize operations.

1. Overview of Pallet Jack Scales

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User-Friendly Interfaces: Digital displays with easy-to-read interfaces enhance usability for operators.

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Several innovative technologies are currently shaping the future of pallet jack scale Nebraska, making them more efficient and effective for Nebraska businesses.

a. IoT Integration

The Internet of Things (IoT) has revolutionized how businesses collect and manage data.

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[airplanned]

TotK Mini Fic

Do not read unless you’ve gotten all the memories and done the Tarry Town stuff.  For real.  Scroll on.

I’m this far into the game, so please don’t tell me more in the comments.

I’ve seen some people write angst, and--y’all--no.  This is the BEST.

Maybe it’s Rhondson’s own melancholy, but Link looks down.  He is not as excited as a man about to buy a dream home should be.  Distractedly, he stares off into the sky behind her as if searching for something, as if thinking really hard.

“So what do you think?” she chirps, trying to put enough excitement for both of them into her sales pitch. (It’s so rude of him to make her do that.  Doesn’t he realize that she’s having a hard day, sending her baby off?)

“I already have a…It’s complicated.”

“Look, I’ll give you’re a discount for all your help.  This could be your dream home!  Completely customizable!  And everyone could do with more space!”

He freezes.  He blinks rapidly a few times, and she can see the gears turn, see him come back to himself.  His face seems to light up as he finally looks her in the eye.

“How much space?”

 #

 Link’s house looks like a pagoda.  Tall and open.  He’s put some ramps on top to give a bad illusion of a slanted roof.

And…well…to each their own. That is the beauty of the Hudson Dream Home: if you can dream it, they can build it.

The first floor is a big square of normal house things. His bedroom tucked behind the stairs, a display of swords that…well, no one knows how he got swords that look untouched by decay, but there they are.  A prominent kitchen where he’ll show off that latest fruitcake he’s made for his girl. “We play this game where I try to throw bites into her mouth.”

There are piles of giant glowing scales and what look like shining monster claws. They look like they were neatly sorted at one point, but now there are just too many.   What are they? And why does it feel like they sing? For potions, he says.  And sometimes he fuses them to weapons.  

If anyone notices the tiny study he has tucked away, he gets bashful, rubbing the back of his head and saying that his girl likes quiet when she’s working.  If she ever…well, if she…he wanted to have a space ready for her.

“One time she asked if I would still love her if she turned into a wyrm.”  Then he laughs.

There are paintings. One of him and the princess and some other people all smooshed together for a group shoot.  One of Link and four glowing ghostly figures, all of them smiling.

Then there’s the one of the dragon.  It takes up the whole wall and is nearly life sized.  Link holds his slate out at arm’s length to catch his beaming face and one, giant, dragon eye framed with gold lashes.

If anyone comments on the dragon, he gets excited and says something like, “Isn’t she pretty?” or “Her face is very soft,” or “Do you see her antlers?  Aren’t they neat?”

Honestly, asking about anything Link gets up to just leads to more questions.  It’s not worth it.

The second floor is open to the air like a gazebo.  Around that, on the roof of the first floor, he’s put flower beds, which he tends with care, frowning over journals and botany books.  After a few weeks, the flower bloom, lighting up at night with a blue-white light you can see from Tarry Town.  Sometimes they’ll catch him carrying a bouquet.  “Bringing them to my girl.  I think I can braid them into her hair.”

As he plants his hands on his hips and surveys his construction with pride and hope, he explains, “She takes up a lot of space.  I imagine she’ll kind of…spread.”  He waves his hands a bit to express that she would presumably leave stuff everywhere.

He seems delighted by the prospect.

“If I can get her to visit, I think she’ll like this.  Yeah,” he sighs.  “She’ll like this.”

[theproverbialpen]

Musings from a Hazbin Fan and Hotel Employee

Yeah, that's right—I'm posting to this blog for the first time in years because I got into Hazbin Hotel of all things. Not only did I get into this cursed fandom, I'm writing fan fiction for it. Fan fiction. I think the last time I wrote fanfiction was...2012? 2013? And I only ever told 3 people about that one. Now here I am posting on main. The brainrot truly is unquantifiable.

If you're one of the few people that survived the purge of those I know IRL, congratulations. Please don't judge me lol. Anyways, actual musings are below the cut!

So I’m writing a fun little fanfic on AO3 and after someone left a comment (if you’re reading this, still genuinely one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me about my craft), it occured to me—as a Hazbin Hotel enjoyer, I have a pretty unique perspective on the series as an IRL hospitality professional. So! Thought it would be some cute bonus content to talk a little bit more about my life at an actual hotel and how it’s impacted my experience with Vivziepop’s hit series. 

Please note: this is written purely for shits and giggles. I don’t actually have any issues with the setting of Vivzie’s narrative or how it plays into the stories she and her team want to tell. I fucking love this show, to a potentially unhealthy degree, and I haven’t had this much fun with a series since like…okay well my hyperfixations change like every few months, but still. Point is, this isn’t actually critique, or satire, or anything with negative or critical intentions. TLDR; this post is for funsies, get off my dick.

So Who TF Am I, Anyways?

A little background on myself, for context. I’ve been employed at my hotel for almost a year now, and it’s my first hospitality job. I work in the Sales and Events department and I’ve come to learn that Group Business is actually integral for keeping a hotel up and running. When your average person (read: me before this job) thinks about hotels and traveling, you’d think it’s all about the families, bloggers, and individual travelers when it comes to guests and revenue. But in actuality, most of a hotel’s revenue—at least in the market I work in—will come from contracted room blocks and events. 

That’s where folks in my department come in. We work with clients to negotiate contracts and secure occupants for our hotel year round. Simply put, if we don’t do our jobs well, then no one else gets hours. So as much as the anti-capitalist in me will sometimes hate being a cog in the machine, it is really fulfilling to be able to help clients meet their needs while also making sure my coworkers are able to put food on the table. 

Speaking of being a cog in the machine, because of my role in Sales, this means that whenever I travel or think about hotels, I’m always thinking about the revenue side of things. I also work more with the Events team, so operations are also on the forefront of my mind. Which leads me to my principal quandary for this little blog post:

How in the Hell does the Hazbin Operate?

I have a laundry list of questions. A laundry list that’s almost as big as the actual pile of dirty laundry that is currently plaguing my bedroom floor. I will summarize (which is a generous word given how fucking verbose I can be) below:

Issue #1: Revenue Generation

Okay listen, I know Charlie is the Princess of Hell. I know she probably has unlimited capital, whatever that looks like in the HelluVerse. And I know the Hazbin is literally there to help rehabilitate people so charging them to stay would be counterproductive.

But my dude…do you understand how much money would be needed to run an operation of this scale?

At the end of Season 1, the new Hazbin is huge. Like it easily looks as big, if not bigger, than the hotel I work at which has nearly 500 rooms. Do you know how much revenue our team has to generate to keep this place running? Do you know how many millions our target goal is set at for each quarter? How many hundreds of thousands my coworkers’ individual quotas are set to? And sunshine in a bottle over here doesn’t charge her residents anything????? 

How does she get all those decorations? How does she order food or inventory? We know Hell has an economy, like Angel literally says he needs to save money for drugs in his first appearance. Is she…does she even pay her staff???

It is utterly appalling that Charlie is able to operate a hotel of this scale, both because of how it doesn’t make sense from a business perspective and because there are IRL billionaires that could probably do the same thing and solve homelessness overnight. 

Speaking of scale:

Issue #2: The Hazbin’s Systems, Or Lack Thereof

Okay so, yes, there’s only like…one official resident of the hotel, maybe two if Cherri moves in and doesn’t become a staff member (RIP Pentious, you would have loved living with Cherri Bomb). With the staff the way it is, that’s a solid 5:1 ratio, which is beyond ideal. But—and I touch on this in the fic—I feel I must reiterate: the new Hazbin is fucking massive. And you know what that means? It’s going to be able to hold a lot of guests. Guests that will need staff to take care of them. Let’s review:

Charlie is the owner and mostly teaches classes. Vaggie is the co-owner and kind of acts as the Executive Assistant to Charlie’s General Manager. I guess Alastor is the Hotel Manager? I’m gonna be honest, I have no idea what he does, but generally speaking he’s supposed to be the jack of all trades and manage the rest of the staff. Niffty handles Housekeeping and I guess would be the director of that. Husk is the bartender but like canonically only really eats pub food so he definitely can’t be the Food & Beverage head. 

Let’s say we scrap the Sales and Revenue Departments because clearly they don’t need income, but we keep a Marketing position so that Charlie can get the word out about the hotel. That leaves us with the need for Engineering, Front Desk, Rooms, and F&B staff. And like, not just one person—that would fucking suck—but proper staff. And given their track record of organization and managing the hotel…let’s just say, I would not be applying to the Hazbin Hotel anytime soon. Honestly, it sounds like that job would qualify to be the new tenth circle of Hell. 

What Does the Hazbin Get Right About IRL Hospitality?

So yes, clearly the world of the Hazbin Hotel leans towards the more fanciful—it is a story about Hell after all. However, there have been some moments that have made me chuckle as a hotel employee, things that are relatable for us in the hospitality world. Allow me to highlight them for you below:

Everyone is Bat Shit Crazy

Hospitality professionals are weird. So weird. Before I started my job, I was terrified of the level of professionality I would need to have. When I first got hired, I was given a whole packet on dress code and appropriate conduct. As you can probably tell from my writing style, this was concerning: I can be professional when I need to be, but I cannot maintain that guise for extended periods of time. Call it my toxic trait.

I also already had this impression of poised and put-together hotel staff from my previous experiences with travel. All the Front Desk agents would be in these clean and wrinkle-free clothes with kind yet business-forward attitudes, office workers would be walking around in full suits, and occasionally you’d see the hotel management on the floor if you were looking. Let me tell you now—it is a facade. An act. An incredible stage production unfolding in real time where all the staff do their absolute damndest to make you feel like you are in an organized and professional institution. Not unlike a certain hit animated musical.

My direct supervisor, the literal Director of Catering and Events, once told me that being a liiiiiittle crazy was a prerequisite for working in our department during the hiring process for a new Sales Manager. She was wrong—the prerequisite is not “a little” crazy. The prerequisite is being bat shit insane. And it’s not just our department, oh noooOoooOo, it is every department. Downstairs in our little basement dungeon, we make out of pocket comments, scream at random intervals, and swear way more than we should (that one might be my fault…according to my partner I swear more at work than at home and apparently it’s rubbing off on my colleagues), but that behavior is in no way restricted to just the Sales Team. 

I process the checks that are sent to our property and our Director of Rooms makes me say “can I get a WITNESSSS” before she signs off on the drop log (Charlie-core). If I don’t say it high pitched enough or with enough vigor, she makes me do it again. I once watched a guy in Engineering climb a tall step ladder balanced with two legs on a platform and a third leg balanced on a wooden plank his coworker was holding steady. The fourth leg was over the open air. Let me reiterate: the open. Fucking. Air. Tell me you can’t see Angel Dust and Cherri doing that shit.

Speaking of Engineering, you wanna know what dumbass thing happened just this morning? The Regional Director of the department—regional meaning he manages teams all across our area, like top level type shit—told us about this cursed ass Instagram trend he found where allegedly, putting ketchup on a Kit Kat tasted like fudge. So right there and then, him, myself, and two other coworkers decided ‘why the fuck not?’:

I would never seek it out willingly again, but I honestly didn’t hate it. 

The point of all of this is to say—the antics the Hazbin crew get up to? Totally realistic. I could see my coworker Robert throwing me into an active battlefield against my will. We have deadass done the role playing thing Angel and Pentious did during our trainings, and it was just as unhinged. Every day some shit happens at this hotel and I’m just like, “Yup. That could happen in Hazbin.”

“Call Now! Or Don’t! I Don’t Care! We Still Don’t Have a Working Phone!”

I would like to preface this section by saying: if you happen to be a Front Desk associate, I’m sorry. This is not directed at you, this is directed at your managers and their communication skills that may or may not exist. If you are somehow a manager reading this, uh—first of all, cringe. Second of all, I hope these next few paragraphs don’t apply to you. If they do and you’re offended: that’s a certified you-problem, babes. 

There are three certainties in this life: death, taxes, and miscommunication from your fucking managers. Tell me why in this past week alone I have been in 5 different email threads regarding fuck-ups and complaints from guests about things that we had clearly communicated. Tell me why in these email threads, people were attempting to throw me under the bus or shift the blame to my team. Tell me why I have gone to every single individual office in my department complaining about this. Tell me why this isn’t the first time this has happened.

Another hotel tidbit: across the board, Q1 (Jan-Mar) is supposed to be slow, for all of hospitality. It’s the time to get the metaphorical phone lines working, ya know? Our Q1 was stupidly busy, so I get it, people were slammed and short staffed. But like… we had time. Time to iron out our communication, time to create systems and processes that would ensure we’d be all set when things got busier. Yet here I am at the start of Q2 with an entire fist shoved up my ass being puppeted around to fix other people’s mistakes. 

It’s times like these when I go back to rewatch Hazbin for the like 26th time and I watch Charlie and Alastor run the hotel and I’m just like “whyyYyYyYyYyYy”. Like I KNOW Vaggie has had days where she’s like, “what…what am I supposed to be doing right now? Like what is my job, what… What?” 

It’s not just Front Desk either. It’s every department, even my own bosses. Like the call is coming from inside the house, sweetie, why did you tell this Sales Manager that I was taking care of all her commissions but you didn’t tell me this. Why am I blocking a room for an Orientation the following Monday at fucking 5:45 PM on a Friday. Why am I JUST finding out about a VIP guest when I have been asking you if you had any notes for me for the whole week.

I touch on it in my fic as well but like…pretty sure Charlie just, decides to host her classes day of. And that drives me insane. Like I…there are processes. Things that need to be done so that everyone is on the same page. You don’t just wing this shit, that’s how you end up with Susan calling your Director to tell her that you’re a useless waste of space not even deserving of the air in your lungs because you didn’t give her her fucking breakfast voucher. 

As a character, I love Alastor. If I were ever in the same room as him, I’d probably hate him. But if there’s anything relatable about that Geneva Convention Violation on Legs it’s his absolutely done attitude in Episode 1’s opening commercial.

Charlie Loves Helping People, and So Do We!

Alright, I’ve complained for enough paragraphs, let’s be positive for a second. The thing that is by far the most true to life in Hazbin Hotel is how much joy Charlie gets from taking care of her guests. Like…that’s our bread and butter in the hospitality world. Well, maybe just the butter; we need that bread in the form of cold hard cash (or direct deposits, whatever works best). But as much as I will bitch and moan about the difficulties of working in a hotel, there’s nothing quite as fulfilling as a guest telling you that you made their entire trip better. The butterflies I get reading reviews where my coworkers are mentioned by name and a guest writes about how we completely turned around their bad day are an absolute delight. It just means the world knowing that you can have that kind of impact on someone, even if it’s just in the little things.

In Episode 2, when Charlie and the crew are welcoming Sir Pentious and she just starts vibrating with excitement is exactly how I feel when I get to meet a client that we’ve been working with for months and finally welcome them to our property. When they sing “It Starts With Sorry” and just get to have a moment of empathy and compassion together, it reminds me of the clients and the phone calls I take where I get to ask them about their goals and help them feel like they’re supported and heard. In the grand scheme of things, is a nice phone call or interaction with some hotel employee going to change your life? Probably not. But for those few moments when their burdens seem lighter is why I love my job.

This goes for guests, and for my fellow coworkers. I’ve been very blessed to start my hospitality career in an unusually supportive work culture. Yeah, we can be some right petty bitches sometimes, but overall everyone is so encouraging and so quick to help lighten each other’s loads. Like in Episode 5 (best episode btw, for obvious reasons) when all the Hazbin Crew are working together to prepare the hotel for Lucifer’s arrival, that shit made me so giddy cause like- that’s us! Look at us go! We workin together so hard, we’re so cute! Like when Niffty and Pentious are baking and she looks up at him all excited n’ shit—that’s literally been me working with our Director of Restaurants on new food menus or promotional material. 

There’s something about being in an occupation where your whole purpose is to take care of people that really brings out the selflessness in you, and I think that’s what makes the hotel such a great setting for Charlie’s mission of redemption. I didn’t realize that until writing this paragraph tbh, but yeah, it just kinda…works. When your job is to make sure other people have a good time and feel supported and you’re surrounded by people that make you feel the same way, it’s a lot easier to want to choose to do good, to do right by the people around you. So as much as I have some silly little nitpicks…yeah, I can admit—I love that this show is about the Hazbin Hotel specifically.

Anyways, if you made it this far, thanks for reading! Next update for Life is In Redemption will be out in the days to come, just thought this would be a fun addition while I work on some of the content with my friends. This upcoming chapter is going to have a co-author, so get hyyyyyped :)

[dimalink]

Winter season Red Orchestra Killing Floor

For last month I do not play a lot. Mainly it was two games from Tripware. Red Orchestra and Killing Floor. I take this games in steams on sales. It is two games from one developer. Two of them are network battles. In both of them you can play single player maps. And I was doing this. I play in free time. About to play half an hour or about 10-15 min.

Games are about the same idea from one side - they are about maps. And you run them and shoot. But in different stylization settings. And different dynamic tempo.

Red Orchestra – it is was released earlier. There are about maps about second world war. There are lots of maps here. Every map is playing the different ways.  There are locations at the field. There is like city. And they are playing very different. There are even maps about vehicles. For example, tank. I more prefer maps like field. And city too. Depending on the map you feel the game different.

There are different weapons. Pistil. Machinegun. Automatic rifle, automatic, machinegun, sub machine gun. Different rifles. Weapons from ww2. So here you need to select a different soldiers. Rifleman, automatic gun soldiers. And two sides USSR and German side. I am for USSR only try to play. Every soldier has its own weapon pack. For example, automatic gun or rifle. There is grenade.

It is playing like a game with a big scale. Scale is big. I played with bots. So, first go to console with tilda. And write addbots 20. I can add onlky20 bots ingame. So it is more fun. Maps are big so by the idea, the more players – more fun it is.

 For example, we play as a soldier with rifle. Ussr. Map at the field. For example, summer. And there are maps with winter. They are feels as very different. And, it is summer. Rifle. Run forward. Maps are big, locations is wide. Field, river. Open space. With us also running another soldiers. They are different. It is starting a shooting. You cannot see - what side it goes. Somewhere from a far. You need to sit and find a cover.

And next – to move a point, where you can see enemies. And fire at him. It is good to lay on earth. Do not forget to move.

 Game for action is not absolutely dynamically. It is not a super fast quake with fast jumping. But everything is rather realistically. But instead of this, this is like a simulation. Crawl, lay down, go, run. Shoot. Rifle need to be reloaded. This is not a sub machinegun. But instead of this you can have a good aiming.

Automatic weapons are excellent about more closer distance. You rush from a side and start to fire.

Maps are very different. There are maps in winter. Trenches. Trees. And snow. And again start a fire. And you cannot see what place it is fire. Who. Where. Need to move forward. To enemy lines. Or in another case, enemy will control your points. It is about a controlling points to define everything. Absolutely new game looks at winter maps. I think all that goes here, is very realistically.

There is a map like blood forest. Or forest of blood. So, it has a big lines of trenches. And you need to rush into them. And it is going all the time shooting there. It is very fast and so unpredictable. There is a moment of luck or no luck. So here automatic weapon is a good thing. Narrow space. Lots of enemies. And you cannot know where is enemy. You can watch in a wrong direction.

There are cities. In ruins. Destroyed buildings. Whole buildings. Open spaces. City streets. Every type of a map feels unique and each map it is interesting to try out. You don’t know what to expect next time. In a memory these scenes. Winter.  You are with automatic rifle is going by snow. Walking though ruins of buildings. And a little further – it is a railway and open space. And just from there, immediately, they start to shoot at you.  Enemy is there - behind the wagons. And he is shooting a lot from that position. There are lots of theme.

There is a map with even more destroyed city. There is a map and trenches. And it is summer already. There are different maps for your choice. In a mountains, in field.

Second game – it is Killing Floor. And it is the same format. By network as idea. But you can play alone. And here it is another idea. You are alone or in team. I play it with brother too, by network. And you are against waves of enemies. So here it is about another game. Some dark locations. Zombies and monsters. Experimental some mutants are raging out. And dark as in a horror movie. Locations are waving horror. True horror. Style of Resident Evil, there is something. And here it is more dynamical action.

In this horror it is goes action about shooting enemies. Enemies are different zombies. Big and casual. You are running the map.  As by labyrinth. You can buy weapons between the waves of enemies. So here you have also different weapons. And you can find something interesting. Shotguns, automatic rifles, AK47, all of these there are here, pistols exists. Cold weapons also exist. You have a list to select.

It is playing as a cool horror and action. I think this way can be a DOOM. As a main idea. If it will have a story and typical maps. But game is main about a shooting, crossfires. And waves of enemies. In the final it will be a boss. You are inside of a horror movie about zombies and mutants. But with lots of weapons. It can be scary. At some places. But you need to move. You need to shoot.

 There are lots of maps too. They are different. There are several game mods. About maps with waves of enemies and mode with small tasks, it looks like tasks. There are also a maps for this mode. It is various, different and good horror action.

There are absolutely scary locations. As some laboratories with black metal around the walls. It is very dark. And rooms are destroyed. And lots of monsters. It is so uncomfortable in a such places.

There locations – oppositive. Like farm. Field. Road. And somewhere in a field the are – zombies and mutants, unholy. It is night also.

Weapons you need to buy for money you get from killed monsters. Between waves of enemies. You can have some pause between next wave. And this way you can try very different weapon. It is very interesting. And there are good pistols and shotguns. So, you start with something simple and next you get something very progressive into your hands. You can take with yourself several types of weapons.

I remember how I play this game with brother for a New Year about several hours. It is very cool and dynamical. Hurricane. Trash. Horror. Shooting. So, we played very normal. Game is rather trasher style. Like Doom, about stylization. Darkness thing. And ocean of shooting. Running a corridors, which are dark. And shoot the monsters. It is happening, that we wait for them for some time. Sit and wait. What side they will go.

Here you can to manage enemy waves, what enemies it will be. Long time of waves with enemies. I do not try this options a lot. But there are some settings. So, it is also rather good game. And you alone also can cool to shake zombies heads. With a pistol with good aiming. First. Second. Everyone straight in a head. With aiming.

There is a game mode like a network – with maps and just enemy waves. And also, there are tasks, you get some tasks. Also, its own maps. Go there. Find a in container something.  First you need to open this container. And there are lots of them. In a certain one it will be a required item. Later you will need to go next. And there is a place you need to do also something. To move forward. Location has a normal size. So, you need some time to find. There is a place to put a tactics. And all the time enemies to appear. You need to shoot all the time.

These two games I played in a winter. So now I think I will try something new. And these games I will play with pleasure also!

Playing little games. From time to time i like to play videogames. And write about it. Dima Link is making retro videogames, apps, a little of music, write stories, and some retro more.

WEBSITE: http://www.dimalink.tv-games.ru/home_eng.html ITCHIO: https://dimalink.itch.io/ GAMEJOLT: https://gamejolt.com/@DimaLink/games

BLOGGER: https://dimalinkeng.blogspot.com/

[dollsonmain]

More long long work blather, because whatever, you get cuts.

So the storage situation, her over-ordering things, AND there being too many kinds of things is getting irritating. It's like trying to organize my basement.

So, here's the current layout, not at all to scale.

Green are shelves of stuff, both food and non-food though mostly food. I won't bore you with how it's all set up. The organization there by category is satisfying enough, but there's too much product, too varied product, and it's sloppy. There should be a little more green surrounding the bull pit and there are more short green ones in front of the bull pit, but it's already fussy.

Nothing more can be put in front of the bull pit because there are glass cases there with the pipes and things. I forgot to put it, but there's another locked case by freezer 3 with more pipes and things.

Blue are coolers. I missed the micro fridge that's near 7, and there's a small hand sink in there, too.

1 was non-alocholic drinks but she moved some of the alcoholic drinks into that cooler last week, which I think was a bad idea. A better solution to there being too much stuff in the beer cave would be to order less stuff.

2 is "the beer cave" which customers are allowed to go into, though they shouldn't be because everything is crammed in there really sloppy and there's a risk of customers knocking stuff over onto themselves and getting hurt. That's how big multipacks of beer are made available to customers, though now many of them are in the lower parts of the original beer cave doors.

3 is the freezer with the deli meat stuff in it. Since it opens from the top, the wall space there is not being used.

4 is the ice machine which customers should not touch, and 5 is the bags of ice customers can take.

6 is another top-loading freezer with ice cream in it.

7 is both a standing cooler with stuff like lunchables and pre-packed sandwiches in it, and then a long cooler that runs under the countertop which is where deli sandwiches are.

The big, unmarked rectangles and stuff across the front of the store are counter tops where the soda, coffee, slushies, and hot food are, the atm, and the lottery machine.

Yellow are storage. All of the sodas and deli stuff get put into the cooler (1), nothing is organized, and nothing is easy to get to. Returns and damaged product are also in there.

Beer cave is also cold storage, but only beer and things like hard lemonade go in there.

O is the office, and the grey rectangle near O is the big sink. There are lots of other machines in there like the water heater and soda fountain syrup set up, etc., and then one small shelf for supplies like trash bags, ice bags, etc.

B is the bathroom. ? is probably another bathroom but I don't actually know. Maybe it's already being used as storage but I've never been in there to get anything so it's probably just an unused bathroom.

-

So, if I had the money and the go ahead to do whatever I wanted with the store.....

tl:dr I would have less shit on the sales floor and a lot more dry storage, a less is more set up.

First I would reduce the variety of things we have. That seems counterintuitive when you're considering customers might want all those things. They do, sometimes, but there's no room. Something has to give.

We would actually monitor which flavors of, say, bagged mini donuts actually sell and which really don't, and only order the big sellers, for example. That would disappoint a few customers, but they'd be ok.

I'd put all the alcoholic beverages back in one area (2) and order less.

I would gut the ?bathroom, remove the door and wall to improve air flow, and move the ice maker and deli freezer in there. If there's room, I'd also add a small counter space and a sink so that deli sandwiches were made THERE instead of on a tiny 6in by 1ft shelf on the mini fridge in the bull pit because that's annoying. The top of the mini fridge is angled because there's a lift-up door. It's hard to work, there, and customers constantly interrupt so whomever is making sandwiches should be left alone. Under the counter space I'd add a mini fridge or two to keep the cheese in, and wall shelves for the deli bread. Keep it all together and not cause condensation in the bread bags.

Having a dedicated sandwich making place would also make it easier to keep that space CLEAN because there wouldn't be people coming in and out all of the time and that area isn't exposed to customers at all.

Considering we're only actually using half the deli freezer as it is and the other half is full of ice build up and product that is unsellable, it could be replaced with a smaller one, maybe a proper deep-freeze with a lift-up door that seals better and can also be used as work space if needed.

_Those bathrooms may be larger or smaller than I think they are. I've never been in either room, and B and ? could be swapped, I don't really care which is the bathroom.

I'd rearrange the sales floor a lot and build another wall, turning a segment of the store space (which in reality wouldn't be that big.... this is not to scale like I said) into dry storage space and add an employees only sign to that door because people will come in and beeline for that hallway assuming that's where the public bathroom is.

The angled door makes sure we can still see into that corner, and that is where I would put big things that are difficult to steal anyway, like the firewood and bags of ice.

I'd also add a saloon door with an employees only sign to the other hallway because they do the same thing over there and I have to chase them down, and omit the yellow storage behind there completely since that's the path service people like plumbers would have to take if there were a problem with the sink or water heater, etc. and should be clear, or at least I'd instead put some shallow shelving that's meant for only small dry goods like the snack cakes, or store supplies. Right now it's head-high stacks of tallboy cans and it makes me nervous.

Lots of dry storage would let us have better looking, more organized shelves on the floor because it wouldn't need to be severely overstuffed just to get product out of boxes that also are left all around the sales floor.

I'd reduce the wine from 4 rows to 1. They're just... Not selling. I mean, a few are or else I wouldn't be constantly refilling those few, and with good inventory management and sales tracking, we'd only buy those.

I'd omit the big locked case that was by freezer 3 completely. I've only gotten into that case one time, and have only ever seen another employee need to get in there one time. Maybe it's more busy at other times, I don't know.

We have too many varieties of vapes, CBD, Kratom, etc. products. One locked case, the countertop displays that only open from the register side, and the "showcases" should be sufficient. Since those don't scan, there's no good inventory or sales tracking, and with good sales tracking, only what sells would be ordered.

Notice a trend?

Then I'd use the wall where the freezer was for light bags like candy up to eye level, small snacks, etc. with some shallow shelves lower down for various sweet food products like cookies, and put the toys in a bin on the ground level where kids can see them instead of up on the top.

I'd get rid of some of the hot food machines because they're barely used. There's a hot dog roller that I've only seen food in once, a popcorn machine that's never had popcorn in it, a pizza spinner thing that I have sold a couple slices from but we could just not, a giant pretzel spinner but you can't have those pretzels, you have to ask for them out of the cold food case where the deli sandwiches are and they're pre-packed, so we could just put a mini cold case out there with the pretzels in it, or put a big countertop one and put some of the deli stuff in it, OR use that space for room-temp pastries and local stuff so we could clear off a little of the counter around the bullpit which would give us more working space and a much better view of the store.

Manager tends to do computer work sitting on one chair with the laptop on another chair, hiding behind the tall cigarette case in the center of the bull pit and the tops of the showcases are also glass so we can't put anything heavy there, which means not being able to do a lot of work, there.

......

I would put a fridge case out back where expiring product could be placed for people to come take for free.

There's probably more stuff that I'm forgetting, but I'm getting hungry and do tend to lose focus when I'm hungry.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

You never know what you're going to find in a New Orleans home. This one was built in 1859 and restored in 1975, and converted to a multi-family home. It has a total of 6bds & 7ba. Listed for $2.250M.

You won't find any stark white modern remodel. Look at the original entrance hall. The only thing they did was paint some of the wood white.

I was not expecting such elegance. A huge double sitting room with twin fireplaces.

Closeup of the ceiling wallpaper.

And, look at this beautiful lounge. Love the fireplace and floor.

Bringing the outdoors in. Fabulous enclosed porch.

What a lovely dining room. Beautiful fireplace and ceiling.

I don't know why they did this, but it looks like they made a kitchen out of the pantry.

This is a bedroom with a lovely fireplace.

And, the en-suite bath has a beautiful vanity. I like the top on it.

Upstairs is the 2nd living quarters, so this home could be a for an extended family, since there's no door to this apt.

The sitting room is like the grand one downstairs, but on a smaller scale. But, it still has the original fireplace, too.

An elegant small dining room.

The kitchen is a tiny apt. kitchen, but I like how they dressed it up with nice appliances and two-tone cabinetry.

Pretty bedroom with an en-suite bath.

Delightful pink bedroom with a wonderful fireplace.

This looks like the main bedroom.

The bathroom has a perfectly round tub.

The smallest apt. seems to have the largest kitchen, a nice bath and a cozy living room.

Along the side of the house is a water feature.

Private pool surrounded by an elegant wall.

There's a beautiful pond and a terrace on the upper floor of the house.

On the ground floor is a porch and a patio.

[radskull-69]

Hiii Rad! You’ve mentioned how Stalker has a Human fetish, was his love (not love) for humans a slow development? or did it develop quickly?

it was a slow development I think, it started out when he was a early teen. He always knew about humans, every monster did. How they put the monsters in the ground over a stupid war.

he didn’t.. hate humans, he didn’t even know what they looked like. But he didn’t like them.

but one day he was in the dump looking for some junk to bring back for papyrus, and he stumbled over a old crumbled magazine with a human on it.

and he just stared at it for longer then he knew

it wasn’t even a suggestive or porn magazine, just a normal magazine advertising some sales they had with a human on front. But he couldn’t stop staring, he didn’t even know if that was a human on the front.

despite this, he ripped the cover off and stuffed it in his pocket.

it just started off as curiosity, then he kept collecting things with human images on it. Adding them to his collection, from time to time he’d collect something else other then photos like a hair brush with human hair on it or smth

over the years, his curiosity and endearment to humans… shifted. It was a night like no other, just that he was horny. So he did was he always did and just wacked it off.

but when he was sitting on his bed jerking it his eyes drifted to one of the magazines that was next to his bed on the floor, looking at the human on the cover

and before he knew it he came, just from.. locking eyes with the human magazine.

but he shrugged it off, that couldn’t be related. Right? He just.. finished easier then normal.

But then it kept happening, then he would hold the magazine in one hand while doing it to get a better view of the human features, he’d imagine doing a human, wondering what they were like..

were they soft? Or is their skin rough like the scales some monsters have? What was it like being made of pure mass and not magic?

his curiosity shifted to something darker, his fixation on humans turning into a filthy secret he kept from everyone. Now, whenever he saw a porn magazine in the dump with a human on it, no matter how dirty or ruined the material rap was, he’d keep it.

So to put it short, it was just a curious collection since he never knew anything about humans. Then slowly over the years it turned into a fetish before he knew it.

[joshybearhuggies]

I am probably quite late to this news, especially to an avid Bratz collector…. But the latest Sasha absolutely fuckin SLAHPS!

Sooooo…. When Bratz came back to shelves I 1000% got my life collecting the girlies from my childhood that I couldn’t have. In this fun process I reacquainted myself with these fashionable icons, I also remembered my odd connection to their bodies.

I love their hight being a little shorter than our standard Barbie. I adore the big heads and sultry screenings. AND THE FASHIONS!…… but………. Them “feet shoes” ugh …. It bugged me then and it kinda still erks me today. This bugged me so much that for a moment there I wouldn’t pick a Bratz doll up. When I did I would always find another body for the head. Which also wasn’t really a fix because I wanted them to still remain short. Frustrating for sure. Until I happened upon the LOL OMG hybrids on IG. I made one myself and before I knew it I had a lil army of these hybrids. The color match was spot on and I adored the articulation in the arms/wrist. The dainty lil manicured hands also made my already beloved girlies SING!

With Falicia I’ve already made two in this form lol 😂 I mean I absolutely LIVE for this form factor. It solves all my problems, I get a doll in the same scale, the option for standard shoes, a doll that keeps her feets 🥰 and I could still use many of the fashions for the Bratz dolls.

So because of this level of play I admit I hadn’t given the latest Bratz dolls a fair look. I saw them in passing for sure but until literally tonight… I didn’t think to purchase. Seeing Sasha with floor length hair and upon closer inspection ✨articulated arms/wrists✨😳😳 I had to! She was even on sale to boot.

Immediately I thought…. Maybe I could give the stock Bratz body a go with this articulation. I definitely missed out on the previous Bratz with the articulated arms/wrist aaannd I also missed out on the Bratz dolls that had the full body articulation treatment some time ago. So here we are, I find myself opening this adorable Sasha and hoping I like this doll on her stock body.

I’m so so so happy to say that I am in bed writing this silly little blog entry because I ADORE this body. Now I can finally make useful all the Bratz shoes I’ve hoarded over the years! Telling myself “ONE DAY”! And today is that day! Ugh! I’m floored! I WILL BRING HOME MORE! Mark my words🥰👌🏿

Also we will not unpack the logic of my not liking the “feet shoes” but still keeping said “feet shoes” because they’re too ✨CUTE✨ to toss or sale… we just won’t, there’s no time 😂

I think the new girls still feel like Bratz dolls as well. They’re everything I already love with a more contemporary spice. I think my next girly might be Jade…. Or Yasmin hmmmm

To think…. I only went in Walmart for milk lol 😂 gosh I’m a mess