#i opened two docs from my friends account too

[lilyoffandoms]

Y’all are amazing! I wanted to say something yesterday but I was truly at a loss for words when Elsa messaged me.

I don’t deserve the honor you have all given me by surprising me with your group decision for me being the next CFWC’s writer of the month. I would absolutely 100% choose any and all of you before me but I am so beyond surprised, happy, and excited that y’all did this for me. Thank you thank you thank you!

Thank you to each of you for participating in this little event and for supporting other writers and being all around some of the most amazing people!!

@aallotarenunelma @jerzwriter @storyofmychoices @karahalloway @tessa-liam @peonyblossom @mydemonsdrivealimo @trappedinfanfiction @petiteboheme @coffeeheartaddict2 @ladylamrian

[ghostboneswrites2]

Under the Stars || One Shot

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!

Anon request from my old blog: "can i ask a tinnyyy request like you know s7 e8 daryl runs off from negans with jesus to hilltop later ricks group comes. How about reader and daryl reuniting after them not seeing eachother since negan takes him hostage and like all the time they spent away from each other in pain they try to make up for it"

Summary: Your mental health severely declined when Daryl was taken, but now he's back, and it's time to begin to heal together.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: depression, prescription medication, general unhappiness, but a happy ending (oh, and profanity, duh)

        You had barely taken care of yourself over these last weeks. Minimal food intake, drinking water only when your body painfully begged for hydration, unable to get out of bed to even bathe on most days as the painful sinking in your gut was just too much. You felt dizzy sometimes, either from malnourishment or grief. Two of your friends were murdered in cold blood, horrifically. You still remembered how it felt when Abraham's blood splattered over your face, warm in contrast to the chill of the air around you. You could remember the way your breath made foggy little clouds in the  bright lights, how you felt every ounce of air leave your lungs when Glenn was taken out next. 

        That man -- that monster -- he took more than just your friends. He took your sanity. You didn't sleep because when you closed your eyes it was all you could see. You hummed to yourself for hours because in the silence, you could still hear the whistle of the bat as it was brought down on your family members and the squelching of mangled skulls as he turned them into mere pulp. 

        With all that, the thing that stung even more was the memory of him being dragged away, your best friend, your love. The toughest and strongest man you knew, the one with a dirty abrasive exterior and a sparkling core of gold. They took him away, just like that. You knew he was alive. They brought him once, just to flaunt him in your face and remind you of what they had taken from you. To show you just how miserable they were making him.

        On this day, though, Rick and the others had dragged you out of bed. Michonne sat with you while you showered, and washed your hair for you while you sat curled up under the steamy stream of water. She helped you get dressed, and told you they were taking you with them to Hilltop to see Harlan, their doctor. He would be able to give you a mild antidepressant, and something to help you sleep again. They had other business at the colony, but they decided you'd benefit from tagging along.

        You were reluctant, of course. Why did you deserve peace and rest if nobody you loved could attain the same? But, they insisted, and who were you to  argue when they already had more pressing matters at hand. You all did. 

        "This is setraline, or more commonly known as Zoloft. It can be used for anxiety and depression, and it isn't known to have many side effects. I'm going to give you a 30 day supply. Just take one every morning with breakfast, and it should help you break out of this funk." Harlan explained, handing you a pill bottle. "It wont take away the grief, but it will help balance some of the symptoms of it until you can cope on your own."

        "This one," he continued, handing you a little baggie with ten pills. "Is a basic valium. Take it every night with a snack, you'll get your sleep schedule back on track by the time you run out of them."

        He offered you a thin lipped smile as you stuffed the medications in your bag.

        "Thanks, Doc." You sighed as you stood up. He held the door open and allowed you to exit the medical trailer before himself, shutting the door behind him.

        "Don't thank me just  yet. I want to see you again in 30 days. We can assess how it worked for you and then maybe you can thank me."

        The others were all gathered nearby the gates, talking with Maggie and some others. You made your way over. Michonne smiled kindly as she placed an arm over your shoulders.

        "Was he able to help?" Rick asked. You nodded.

        "We'll see in 30 days." You told them. The conversation resumed where it left off, and you kind of just absentmindedly stood by, allowing little bits of information to register here and there but not enough to follow.

        That was when the gates opened and Jesus walked in, followed by someone you didn't expect in the slightest. Your eyes were dry and wide, throat tight, heart racing out of your chest. Rick was the first to hug him, then Michonne, then Maggie, who he seemed  shocked to see. 

        His eyes landed on you and time stopped. The world simply stopped spinning. He stepped toward you slowly, each crash of his boot into the dirt sounding off like bombs. Tears pooled in your eyes when you could finally reach him hear him, smell him.

        "Daryl." You choked.

        He didn't say a word, but he didn't have to. The way he embraced you and lifted your feet from the ground, squeezing the air out of you was enough. When he set you back down he planted a kiss on your forehead, lingering there as he breathed you in.

----

        The stars had never looked so bright than they did when you were underneath them with Daryl that night. You stayed at Hilltop with him, and instead of enjoying a bed and warm sheets, you both laid on the ground outside Barrington House, breathing easily for the first time since he had been taken.

        "How'd you get out?" You wondered.

        "Nah. Don't gotta talk 'bout that right now." He said softly, sneaking an arm under you to pull you into him. You rested your head on his chest and he ran his fingers though your hair. 

        "Okay." You whispered. "I missed you."

        "Yeah." He agreed. "Me too. I missed ya."

        "I haven't been able to sleep without you."

        "Mm." He nodded, fingers still twirling in your strands.

        "Can you talk? About anything? I missed your voice."

        "Well," he sucked in a breath, searching for something worth telling you. "Every minute I spent away from you just felt longer and longer, ya know? 'N' now that I got ya back I don't wanna think about none of it. Don't wanna think 'bout the fightin' that's comin'.. Just wanna be here. With you."

        You sniffled and blinked back tears as you nuzzled closer to him, wishing he could just absorb you into his very being so that you'd never be apart.

        You peeked up at him through your eyelashes and he looked down at you, pressing a scratchy kiss on the top of your head.

        "I thought about you every minute of every day." You admitted.

        "I know." He said softly.

        "I just.." You sighed. "I'm just so happy to be here with you. It feels like a dream."

        "It ain't."

        "But it feels like one." You countered. "Just so unreal."

        "It's real." He affirmed.

        "I know." 

        "Good."

        "Do you wanna sleep inside tonight?" You asked.

        "Nah. Too closed up."

        "Okay." You smiled. You snaked an arm over his torso, holding him tightly. He returned the gesture, using dropping his hand from your hair down to your back and pushing you against him. You laid a leg over his.

        "Ya been eatin'?" He asked suddenly, running his fingers over your ribcage.

        "No." You admitted quietly.

        "Gon' eat breakfast tomorrow." He instructed.

        "I have to anyways. Harlan said I have to take my meds with food."

        "Meds? For what?"

        "Depression." You huffed, sitting up and reaching into your bag to show him the pills. "Zoloft and some kind of valium."

        "Pfft." He scoffed, taking the pills from you and setting them on top of his own bag as he pulled you back down. You settled back into your previous position. "Don't need no damn drugs. I'm gon' give these back to him tomorrow."

        "I guess they were just worried about me. I wasn't really that great, you know, with everything..." You trailed off.

        "Okay." He nodded. "I'm here now. Ya don't need 'em."

        "Okay." You said sleepily, eyes feeling heavy in the comfort of his embrace. You really didn't need valium, you just needed him to lay with you. He glanced down at you, feeling a bit of warmth in his chest as your eyes began to flutter.

        "Get some sleep, now." He whispered.

[corvusblackk]

when i first shifted to my fantasy dr (part 1)

i shifted to this dr in the past and i made a google doc about it because i wanted to send it to my friends but now that i have this account i can share the experience with y’all too :)

i recently shifted there again and wanted to share that too but i thought it would be better to post this one first as it explains more about my dr.

i’ll just copy and paste the document but it says that it’s too long so i have to split it into two posts.

so here we go.

OKAY SO I don't know where to start because I'm still freaking out okay. first of all, to shift, I simply set the intention to wake up in that specific reality (which I called “fantasy reality” because I didn't know what other name to give it) and went to sleep without doing anything else except visualising some parts of my dr house. the next morning i felt something on my face like someone was holding my face in their hands which scared me because i went to sleep alone and usually no one wakes me up but then i remembered it could be mom since we had something to do that morning. only that it wasn’t mom- opening my eyes I was hella shocked, I can't even explain what I felt after seeing that I had neteyam in front of me (yes, I added him to the script of this reality too), after all these months of pure agony (and I'm not kidding) I was finally in front of him and him in front of me. i immediately tried not to act weird but it was super hard so after he asked me if i was sick i told him i had a very weird nightmare and i still had to recover. the fact is that in this reality where I shifted he is not a blue alien but a "human" version (not so much human because he's an elf) and god, he was beautiful, the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my life. at that point he seemed kind of worried about me because i was staring at him the whole time in silence trying to realize what had just happened so to avoid freaking him out more i told him i was so tired again and fuck, he laughed and then he fucking kissed me. to say that I exploded at that moment is an understatement, but let's overlook it. we got out of bed and started getting ready because, from what I understand, we had decided the night before that that morning we would go to my best friend's café (her name is auri and she is a fairy) and it was initially strange to realize that I had wings on my back (they are not so big anyway, that's why I didn't even feel them at first) and I immediately wondered how the fuck do I put a shirt on 🧍🏼but in the end I wore something all shredded. auri (one of my best friends) was so energetic, she never stopped talking but it didn't bother me. then my other friends yuri and will joined us (it’s will byers lol, i added him to the script after watching stranger things this summer). and will is a faun here 😭 he is truly a love, the sweetest and kindest person i know. I'm writing too much maybe I should cut it a bit, i’ll try to summarize from now. in the afternoon comes my favorite part: my work. in this reality I am half fairy half witch, which is a rare gene there (i scripted so because i wanted to be main character), in fact I am almost the only witch in the village apart from my mother and grandmother. so I went home to prepare a potion that someone had asked me for, they had to spray it on the garden that would make the crops grow well. meanwhile, while I was working on my table/altar, neteyam was working on a wonderful painting (that’s his job) which represented the image of the ocean at sunset with a ship in the centre. it was incredible, he was so talented. after i finished the potion i had another customer that day who ordered me a tarot reading so i went to her house (customers often come to my house but it is more usual for me to go to them). she was a young fairy and lived with her mother. as soon as I arrived they were both very kind and asked me if I wanted something to eat or drink before the reading, I said maybe later but they insisted so they made me sit down and gave me a slice of lemon cake (y’all it was so good) and some tea made by them.

(go to my next post for part 2 cause i can’t fit the entire text here for some reason)

[hydrangeyes]

Rogue ☁️🌩

So if you don't know, Yes this already existed, my old account was deleted (accident but I can tell I won't be getting it back), and am reposting my old x male reader works!

I don't know if I saved all of them but here is one that was saved to my AO3 account.

Edit: So shuffling through my docs It's been brought to my attention that wattpad (who I use as backup) Cut a lot of my fics in half??? anyway I'll be trying to fix that also

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

Missing male reader x Sun wukong

[P/s] : preferred scent

More angst than anything, wukong finds an old friend

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

You were meticulous when it came to your disappearance.

Faking death, check. Leaving no evidence that it could be fake, check. Running to the mortal world and starting a new life? Check.

You had it all down. Of course, you didn't stay in one place, fear that you would be found by immortals who lived there and were allied with the Jade emperor. It kept you on your toes until eventually you settled in an area that had more demons than immortals.

Of course you did your best to protect the humans living there asking each time to keep your existence a secret. It was the village turned cities big secret.

But of course, as time went, you knew he would find you. After all, you were living in his current second home.

Your own home was a decent if small apartment in a complex around the more elderly, those who remember who you was. Even a porch where you had a garden going, giving anything extra to locals.

You theorize that's how wukong found you. Someone let something slip, because there was no other reason for him to suddenly be here, in your garden, nibbling on some strawberries that just grew fruit.

"You know, it's a little embarrassing that I didn't find you until now, old friend." Wukong drawls, eyes on you as you warily put down the basket in your arms.

"Don't be, I took....a lot of measures to not be found." You reply back, the air wasn't tense per sat but you knew better than to relax.

You heard about the uproar he made when he found out about your disappearance, and eventual statement of death. And you wish you could have sent him a message, but at the time you also knew wukong had a big mouth.

"Yeah. Funny how that is. Want to tell me exactly why? See, you're 'disappearance', had me fooled. Not even your scent left behind. So either this was all a game or you're a demon using my friends' face."

You see the simian getting angrier as he talked, and letting out a deep sigh you move to sir next to him, relaxing the wards you had on yourself to mask your natural scent and aura.

The familiar smell of [p/s] and a soft golden glow came to wukong's senses. While that eased something in him that wanted to fight whoever was using your face, another grew disheartened that. What ever happened while he was gone, forced you to go into hiding even from him.

"It's nothing you did, wukong... I just didn't want the emperor to send you to retrieve me if I did just leave. I needed to make sure no one would even think too." You began, hands fiddling together as tou looked down at them.

"My father had found a warrior for me to marry. It...it was not up to discussion if I wanted to be wed or not, just that this would open up a good trade."

You grimace hearing his tail smack the banister behind you two, in what you guess was surprise.

"When I went to plead against the union, things spiraled out of control. And the emperor was called to step in." You lean back to look at the sky.

"I meet my fiancé. And I hated our wedding, hated our...union. it was loveless and I was nothing more than a new toy in his collection." Rubbing the back of your neck you grimace harder.

"I snapped and everything went red.... I don't even know if i....if he's...."

"So you ran." Wukong speaks up making you flinch and zone back in to the now. You look over to him, seeing the fury being held back in his eyes.

"N/n... I don't care what the emperor would have said, I would be there for you." He starts and gently takes your hand in his.

"You are my my dear friend. I would come to you even if it's just to give you the TV remote in the same room." This made you left out a soft snort, noticing now just how much you are trembling.

"Anything N/n. In fact the only thing stopping me from going up there to make sure that bastard is gone and tearing your father into shreds, is that I don't want to leave your side."

"Please don't do that."

"Mmm I'll think about it."

With that you both quiet down as you wait for your nerves to calm down, moving to leaning your head against his shoulder.

"It was ages ago, and it's not like it was all awful. I guess I just couldn't get over that I wanted it to be-" you stop yourself quickly. Nope nuh uh. Nope.

You move back feeling your cheeks warm, as wukong eyes you curiously, tail moving to wrap around your waist to keep you close. Like old times.

"Wanted it to be?" He asks poking your arm and sides getting a chuckle from you, "nuh uh no way, that's a secret I'm keeping to myself. Anyway," Quickly wanting to change the subject now that you spilled your old guts.

"What have you been up too? It gets so noisy downtown and occasionally I hear about some new monkey kid???"

You question leaning back on him and letting him adjust you so that you both were properly cuddling. "I didnt know you had a kid~ I always knew you and macaque wanted-"

Wukong sputters and blushes a deep red. "N/n, mk is not our biological kid!"

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

Ending this hereeeeeee, lol

Turned out more angst than fluff with a dash of shadowpeach (which may as well be in most of these)

[itsquakey]

Say it with me.

Did Opal-Owl-Flight groom minors? NO

Did Blue-Jester groom minors? NO

Did they go too far up by making a lot of very questionable sex jokes and showing imagery that is suggestive to minors? YES

Are you kidding me??? I was aware that the words “Groomer” and “Pedo” are thrown around just like that on the internet. But…holy shit. So what are these two being accused of? Well. Grooming. Because they were saying some very out of pocket risky jokes and had art that is risky (According to sources of both sides no actual porn was posted, just risky content in which you could argue teeters on NSFW because remember, not all NSFW is blatant porn. It’s a spectrum.) Okay so let’s look at the definition of grooming here. According to Oxford Dictionary grooming is the attempt to form a relationship with someone for them with the sole intention of sex or being in a sexual relationship with them.

From interviewing both sides as well as looking into the two hundred paged doc (which we will get there soon my friends), there was no instance of grooming here, they didn’t try to get closer to these kids to try and use them for sex, the closest thing you could tie that to is the pinup drawings, which I don’t even think Opal or Blue knew what they were doing when they posted that. Oh. And one more thing.

Hey owl. I know we’re mutuals and all. And I saw you already fixed this but I feel the need to say it. You are an adult. I am an adult. We should not be throwing the word groomer around especially when you are in contact with the doc maker and likely already read it all. I understand grooming is a very serious thing however we should remain mostly neutral if not stand our ground a little bit but be open while we listen to all sides of the story before jumping to conclusions.

So what about the doc? Hey where did it go? Yea it got deleted or just taken off public view from what I’ve seen. If I were to take a guess…it may or may not have to do with the lack of censorship when it came to the minors in this situation! Yes, they did not censor a large amount of the minors interactions in this doc opening them up to harassment. I know one of these minors and went to them in hopes of them telling me more. But guess what? They did what most kids would do in such a situation and freaked out, which was my fault for trying to do such a thing without thinking. These kids are basically open to a rain of gunfire now because of no censorship. I thought we were trying to protect them? What’s up with that? I don’t consider it doxxing as doxxing is the reveal of personal information on the internet/ to the public. The info of those minors were public in a way. But it’s still VERY scummy whether or not the doc makers knew that. And to add onto this, according to a few people some or all of these screenshots were taken out of context. I was not given any further proof so take it with a grain or salt. If the doc maker is reading this. I’d recommend actually taking time in making that doc better because all it does is make you look aggressive even if you may have a point in some things. Or just… go to those involved and try to fix it in private so unneeded drama like this doesn’t happen.

Opal, Blue, any other adult who happened to be heavily involved. I understand sex jokes = funny. I understand we can go too far. Hell. This situation made me realize I did a similar thing a while back and how it was not at all cool of me to do. I know that sex humor is a staple in minors and at the end of the day we can laugh about “magic condoms” or how much of a slut Mago is. Here’s the thing. I do think you guys went too far. A sex joke or two is funny and not out of the ordinary (again, I have I think a couple of those on my account if you look hard enough) and I know it’s easy to go take a couple steps too far from the path. What I want you lads to do is be aware that a lot of the more raunchier jokes and images wasn’t okay around minors and you need to take responsibility for it. No defensive words. Just say “Yeah I messed up, but guess what. I can fix this” and I’m not just expecting this just out of you, I’m expecting this out of the other side and those who jumped on these claims without looking into them. Here is an idea for you, what can possibly fix your issue with regards to content within your server. Make a 18+ channel or a series of them, having them locked and people only allowed in by mods who give it a green light when the person wanting in is 18 or older. That way you can post content and make jokes to your hearts content without worrying about these folks calling you groomers. Worst case scenario you get called a degenerate but I mean…come on. If you’re a degenerate then I am 100x more of one judging by the jokes and content I’ve made in the shadows. The adult channels is something I’ve seen in multiple Kirby servers and if you plan on keeping your current server or moving to a new one to protect minor identity keep that idea of mine in mind please. This is kinda like the maturity option on tumblr posts, which if you haven’t used yet for spicier content I highly recommend!

And this is just for Opal. Hey, I wanna say this so you don’t catch flack for it later but author doesn’t equal character is not an excuse in this situation. I understand the thought process of this, but keep in mind you are the one speaking through Magolor. You are the one who wrote him to have this character and you should be very aware that if you use that excuse on anyone who isn’t as open as I am they will likely just completely believe you are trying to save your own ass.

FYI If later on in the timeline it does come out someone here no matter what side they’re on is actually grooming minors with undeniable proof, they’re going to have to deal with my ass and the cops.

I don’t think I will be involved in drama again, unless it’s of this magnitude in which I’d highly recommend saying your prayers because I will not be nearly as nice as I was in this post.

TLDR: Opal and Blue aren’t groomers, stop throwing that word around. Everyone in this situation is at some sort of fault and should just take responsibility like a fucking adult instead of excusing and worming their way around it.

Please do not contact me unless you are involved in this drama or are a close mutual of mine. I’m afraid I may blow up on you because my fuse has been eaten up by the flame of this situation. Goodnight Tri-State area.

Edit: Please read comments and tags as they share different opinions and may cover things I didn’t cover or may have gotten wrong. Thanks.

[praxcrown5]

Doc Hudson Fanfic: Sneak Peek #2

This excerpt is from May 12, 1950 (Cycle 9): Hud's best friend tries to convince him to race as a favor to their mutual boss, Smokey.

Note: Hud (age 12) is the youngest member of a gang of moonshine runners called the Still Chasers. They are led by an Oldsmobile 88 Rocket named Ghost.

Note II: In my headcanon, vehicles reach physical/sexual maturity at the age of eleven.

Note III: Ghost speaks with a heavy Appalachian accent, seeing as he's originally from the mountains southeast of Middlesboro, Kentucky.

Ghost nudged open the door to the Cotter Pin and rolled in like he owned the place.

It was busy for a Sunday on account of it being a race day, and all makes and models were crammed in, bumper to bumper, talking loudly and animatedly; "pre-gamming," as some folks called it.

Ghost scanned the room.  Sure enough, he could see Hud and the rest of the Still Chasers hanging out in their usual spot by the bar.  Everyone was sporting their in-town paint jobs to better blend in with the law-abiding rabble. Cass was a lovely shade of red, Flips and Otto were matching shdes of beige, Wilkis was white with red fenders, and Hud had chosen a handsome indigo blue that really made his polished, chrome accents pop.

He was also wearing whitewall tires. Expensive ones. Lord knows where he got the extra cash from...

Thankfully, the young tripper hadn’t struck out on his own yet, though he seemed to be appraising someone at the bar: A Mercury Eight with an almost gaudy, metallic orange paint job.

Ghost rolled his eyes. Hud's taste in other cars was...odd to his sensibilities, so to was his preference for male company, but to each their own.

The Oldsmobile made his way through the crowd as quickly as he could, but it wasn’t easy.  By the time he reached the table, the whole gang was staring at him expressions ranging from annoyed—Cass, of course—to concerned—as was the case with Otto and Flips—to smug with Hud and Wilkis.

“I dare say that's a record." Wilkis said with a grin. He adjusted one of his rear view mirrors so he could look at the clock near the bar. "Twenty two minutes and three seconds. Yep, definitely a record."

"So..." Hud added, coyly. "What did you do this time to get bumped? Oo! Did you try to 'council' another married wom..."

"Bite your tongue, boy." Ghost rumbled, hiding his annoyance behind a strained smile. He'd gotten a bit too close to one of the racer’s wives the last time they were in town.  In his defense, she was having relationship issues, and just wanted someone to talk to.  The racer, of course, thought he was trying to hook up with her and a fight broke out.  Normally Ghost could hold his own in a bar-room brawl…but it was seven on one, and he ended up in a heap on the curb.

The smugness in the kid’s expression gentled to something approaching skepticism, but he slid one of his drinks over to Ghost who accepted it with a smile.  “Thanks, kid.”

“So…why are ya here?” Hud asked sounding serious this time. "Disguised or not, it's risky."

“Yeah,” Cass agreed. "Not that we don't mind your company...but I ain't in prison, and I'd very much like to keep it that way."

He considered the group of vehicles, shrewdly. "Well...Smokey's in a bind; big'un by the sound of hit. I reckon we should help him out. Might owe us a hefty favor iffen we can deliver."

Everyone quieted up and they looked between each other, surprised.

“So…what does he need?” Hud wondered.

"He needs ye, Hud.” Ghost replied taking a sip of his drink.

“I’m not into trucks.”

Ghost coughed and sputtered as he choked on the liquid in his throat.  Cass and the others laughed.

“He don't need ye like THAT.  Geez, kid.”  He fixed Hud with an almost paternal look of concern.  “Why? Why? WHY? Would that be your first thought?”

The kid threw a sly grin in his direction, then took a long swig of his drink.

Ghost pursed his lips, and turned to glare at Cassie, since she was usually the team's default "voice of reason" when he wasn't around.

"Don't look at me," she shrugged. She might as well have added: "He's an adult, now. What he does in his free time is his business."

Ghost stifled a sigh and made a mental note to pay more attention to what the Hud got up to during their forays into town.  Prostitution was illegal, after all, and the last thing they needed was additional police scrutiny. He cleared his throat. “Smokey needs a driver.”

“What about Bernard?” Cass asked.

“Injured.”

“Bert?” Flips wondered.

“Smack drunk.” 

“Figures…” Otto muttered with a laugh. “But, there’s always Bob.”

Ghost said nothing.

“Ungh…Bob’s out too, geez.”  Wilkis huffed, nudging his empty drink container with a tire.

“Yeah, he done got hisself a mighty good hookup…and he still a-sleepin’ it off…”

Good-natured chuckles traveled around the table…but after a moment, everyone quieted up.  Gazes slowly began to turn towards the youngest member of the group.

Hud considered Ghost out of the corner of his eye.  “Let me guess…” he drawled with his usual sass.  “Someone got it in Smokey’s head that I’m the fastest car in Georgia or sommat?” 

“Mighta...”   

“I mean…they wouldn’t be wrong…” Hud continued. “I am the Fabulous Hudson Hornet, after all.”

Ghost rolled his eyes, good-naturedly.  Hud had started calling himself the “Fabulous Hudson Hornet” after their latest brush with the ATF…when he got separated from the team...yet somehow managed to evade an entire ATF taskforce AND police squads from three, different counties. “But whomever made the recommendation—seein’ as they know me so well—must surely be aware that I was promised three days of uninterrupted R&R once I got back to Thomasville.”  He looked over at Ghost, batted his eyes, and gave him the most tar-eating grin his mouth could manage.  “A race is a MIGHTY big interruption if you ask me...”

The Oldsmobile pursed his lips.  “Are ye gonna do it or not?”

“Hmmmm… I don’t know…” the kid drawled.  His eyes wandered back to the orange Mercury by the bar.   “I could think of a better way to spend my evening…”

“Purse is $3500.”

Hud whipped his front-end around so he could stare at Ghost with wide, blue eyes.  “Are you serious?”

Ghost nodded.  “$750 for first; $500 for second; $350 third through six. Ain't nothin' of note after."

Otto and Flips whistled.  “Damn…”

“That’s some serious bank.,” Cass agreed.

The young Hornet nodded, impressed.  “I can’t say no to that kind of cash…and,” He fixed his mentor with a lopsided grin.  “…both you and Smokey owing me a favor each; feels like I hit the lottery.”

“Hey, I never said…”  Ghost protested.

“Oh, what’s that?”  Hud was already driving to towards the front door, grinning like an idiot.  “I can’t hear you over the sound of my imminent victoryyyyyy. Oooooo…” He made a hasty exit before the Oldsmobile could get a word in, edge-wise.

Cass laughed and nudged Ghost’s fender with the back of her front tire.  “Wow.  Y’all drove into that one.”  She looked at the rest of the gang.  “C’mon boys, let’s go see how this shakes down.”  The rest of the gang cheered and tamped their tires before following Hud out the door, leaving Ghost to idle by himself for a few moments.   

The Oldsmobile sighed, heavily, finished his drink and followed the rest of his team muttering to himself about the “nerve of that kid” and “don’t know where he gets it from."

Since I don't yet have character refs for the Still Chaser gang, here are the ref pics I used for the characters

Cassie

Otto

Flips

Wilkis

Ghost

[yourlocalwheeliebin]

Driving Home to Bucky After A Long Day

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (Gender Neutral) Reader 

Word Count: 1.3k

TW: None 

AN: Just a short but sweet one shot about our favorite boy. This has sat in my google docs for a ass time so I hope you all enjoy! Okay, mags out!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

It’s been a long day. Too long for it to only be a Wednesday. You're having to work late because one of your colleagues fucked up some paperwork after a mission that you now need to fix. Your boss is nice enough to ask if you need dinner orders but you tell them no and you'll eat when you get home. “Fucking Sara, how do you screw up a goddamn injury form this badly” you groan, filling out anther claim made by our colleague. 

Finally, after around 3 hours past your usual shift, you're able to leave for Buck's. You look out the window and the rain has only gotten heavier on the cold November night. It’s pitch black out apart from city lights and cars that drove past. You shut down your computer, grab your coat and start to head out. In the lift, you message Bucky letting him know you're finally on the way home. It's almost 8pm. 

You run to your car, holding your jacket over your head to not get too wet. You sit there for a few minutes to let out a deep sigh and release some stress that you'd been holding. Starting up your car, you turn on the heating and connect your phone up to the Bluetooth. Songs that remind you of Bucky start to play, a feeling of ease finally washes over you as you pull out of the parking lot. 

Traffic in Brooklyn is brutal, the journey home taking far longer than you'd like it to. The lights of other cars slowly strained your tired eyes. The yells and noise of the city deafened by the music playing through the speaker. Your clothes and hair slowly dry as you drive, wondering how much longer the journey will take.

Pulling up to Bucky's apartment, you turn off the car and lie back on the seat for a second. Almost steadying the tiredness and stress from the day before you venture into the apartment complex. The area isn't the nicest but it's near where he grew up. A rough blue eyed boy from Brooklyn who deserved the world waiting for you to come home to him. Mentally cursing how many stairs you'll have to climb since the lift is out of order. 

Entering the building, the dusty smell of the cold building is a stark contrast to the cold November air outside. The climb up the stairs felt like an eternity, the walls getting progressively dirtier as you climb each flight. Standing outside the door of Buck’s apartment at last, you slowly open the door to the dimly lit home. 

Bucky's apartment wasn't much. He rented it when it was just himself living there, not taking into account meeting you or the fact he deserved more than just four dingy walls. Parts of you linger in each room, a daily reminder that you’re real and not just part of some sick dream. That you're really with him, not planning to leave any time soon. 

From the toothbrush in the bathroom; to the extra blankets and cushions you bought for the living room so the leather of the beat up old sofa wouldn't stick to your skin after hours of watching TV together cuddled up. Fairy lights hung up in the bedroom and living room, a fond memory from when you put them up at Christmas the year before but never took them down since you thought they looked pretty. He couldn't help agreeing, saying they looked beautiful as he stared at you rather than the yellow lights decorating the walls. 

The small kitchen held home to kitchenware that you bought once you found out he only had two pots and a frying pan for pancakes. A cheesy apron hung up on the edge of the door that had "Kiss the Cook'' on the front, a joke gift that a friend of yours bought you for your birthday. 

Though the apartment was small and there was barely enough room to move in it, he wouldn't change it for the world. His room didn't have a door to separate it from the living room and sure, the heating didn't work half the time and don't get him started on the guy on the 2nd floor who flirts with you every time he runs into you....he wouldn't change it one bit of it meant a life without you. 

Walking through the door, the smell of cinnamon, leather and dust washed over you. A warm welcoming smell that always felt like home to you. He always seemed to smell like old leather, pine and something sweet that you couldn't quite put your finger on. You took off your shoes and called out to Bucky as you put down your bag and jacket on the small side table that was next to the front door. 

You looked around for Bucky as you walked in. The kitchen island was tidy for once and the wooden floor had been mopped. 'Must have cleaned while I was out' you thought as you walked towards the sofa in the middle of the living room. An old Friends rerun playing on the TV again. 

Buck walks out from the bathroom in a t-shirt and a pair of tracksuit bottoms, looking freshly showered with his wet hair sticking to his forehead. He comes over with a smile on his face, eyes still the brightest blue you'd ever seen, and envelopes you in a hug. He asks how work was as he leaves a kiss on your forehead. You explain your day before quickly heading off to change out of your work attire.

After changing and finally feeling comfortable again, you walk into the living room. The main lights had been turned off, the fairy lights from Christmas were turning the room a warm and cosy yellow. Some candles were lit on the kitchen island and on the TV stand as some soft music played in the background. You laugh a little as you walk over to him. Sat on the sofa, Bucky smiles at you, knowing how hard today must have been.

"Long day?" He asked. "God, don’t get me started” Buck stood up from the sofa, making is way to the middle of the small living room and placed a hand on your lower back and slowly pulled you in for a kiss. “I would gladly have rather spent the day here”. Buck let out a small breathy laugh, “well you’re here now” he says, almost whispering as if was trying to convince himself you were real. 

“How'd you do this all while I was getting changed? I was only in there for like 5 minutes, Buck". He takes your hands in his as Louis Armstrong starts to play through the speaker. "I may have planned this out a bit before you got home. Plus, food has been ordered. Got your favorite" He said with that same sweet smile he always gives you. Even though your tired, that damn Bucky Barnes Charm is irresistible. 

“Wow look at you go, ordering food from your phone” He scoffs sarcastically. “Hey, I am perfectly capable ordering from the phone, it’s not rocket science” You laugh, resting your forehead against his. “I know, I’m only joking old man”. 

He pulls you close and starts to sway to the music. The windows open slightly let in the light noise of rain and that ambiance of the city outside. It all adds to the small bubble the two of you had made in the apartment. The song changes to Can't Help Falling In Love With You as he places another kiss on your forehead. 

"I love yah, Doll. You know that right?" You turn your head to face him. The swaying stops and his hands rest on your waist. His face, dimly lit by the fairy lights and candles. "I know, I love you too Buck. Always have, always will". The two of you go back to softly swaying to the music, wrapped in each others warmth. Feeling safe in the world for a moment. 

[booiiee]

Brooklyn Baby

Read Chapter 1 here

-----

Chapter - 2

“Is the silence bothering everyone or is it just me?” Eric chimed, cutting through the silence of the table.

J- I think Miss Rose here is upset that we ruined her afternoon plans of a sad lunch here at the cafeteria

R- I’ll have you know that I very much enjoy my lunches here at the hospital cafeteria and they are not sad

J- Oh why? Do you watch fancams of us in your free time?

God why is he smirking? As if his face wasn’t already making you angry/ God he is so gorgeous it actually hurts.

R- No not all of you!

J- Oh so just your bias then? WHo is your bias?

E- Oh yeah I wanna know too. And if it’s me I’ll act surprised okay?

R- Well it used to be you Eric, but it was Juyeon last I had the time to you know, catch up with the content.

J- Ah that’s disappointing, I almost thought you’d say my name. Specially with how defensive you were back there saying “I could never hate Hyunjae not in this life for sureee”

See you love this boy, but you also have zero tolerance to someone mimicking you, both of these things can be true. So if you said “I do not care about you enough to hate you that is why I said that!”, it really doesn't mean anything, to you at least.

The change in his expression was quick but you caught it, Eric returning with your drinks looks puzzled with the silence.

J- Well, we will be taking your leave doctor, you’ll see Eric next week.

E- And you the week after cause-

J- Let’s not bore her with details she is not interested in, Eric. Let’s go.

E- Oh and doc, this is yours, please take it. J looked for it for hours before we finalized it.

The two wear their masks and leave with Eric shouting “see you doc” from across the cafeteria while Hyunjae looked like he could not be out of here faster.

You open the gift and find a note that says “Butterflies love roses” and let out a loud gasp seeing the heart shaped bookmark with a butterfly engraved in the center.

(Ref reel: The bookmark )

Sleep was a luxury that night and you felt too guilty to afford it. You stayed up revisiting fancam of him and the edits from your now abandoned account. God you really loved this guy and the first time you met him you lashed out on him for his annoying trait- something that you’ve told all your friends you love about him.

In your most guilt filled heart and clouded mind, you did what you could think of and texted Eric, Gosh where is my professionalism!

R- Hi Eric, this is Doctor Rose. Sorry for texting you I need a little help

E- Heyyy Hi doc! I am happy you texted!

How can I help? Did you not like the present? 🙁

R- No, no that’s not it. I loved it. I actually wanted to thank Jaehyun for it and thought I should text him

E- Aww that is so thoughtful of you. Wait I’ll send over this contact to you

*1 Contact J *

R- Thank you Eric 🙂

E- Anytime doc 🌹

You haven’t been this anxious texting a guy since high school, which isn’t an evidence of the regularity of texting guys but rather a testament of how long it’s been since you’ve actively texted a guy.

R- hi Mr. Jaehyun, this is doctor rose from NewYork-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital.

J- Oh hello Doc

How may i help you?

R- I wanted to thank you for the present, it was really thoughtful of you

J- I am happy you liked it

R- And I wanted to apologise

For earlier today

I really shouldn’t have spoken to you like that and I really didn’t mean to say that I do not give a fuck about you to hate you. It’s just that I am really sensitive to people mimicking me and I get annoyed easily and-

*Jaehyun calling*

J- Hi doc, i figured it's best if we spoke on the phone and let me start by apologising. We don’t know each other enough for me to be mimicking you I am sorry, you had the right to be annoyed.

R- And I should not have spoken to you like that either

J- Well I can think of something to accept your apology

You should start calling me by my name

R- oh….okay sure do you prefer hyunjae or jaehyun?

J- my fans call me hyunjae and i gather you are not one so-

R- I told you that is not the casee

J- So you like me then?

(I love you boy if you only knew)

R- I dont hate you

J- Easy save Rose. easy save

R- Well then goodnight

Thank you really for the bookmark, it’s gorgeous. And for the note too, it’s cute.

J- You’re named after a flower of course I am gonna make these references

R- Not a lot of people do that actually to my surprise

J- Well you have me now so don’t be surprised

R- Is he insane?

J- Ouch i thought we were becoming friends :/

R- Did i say that out loud????

J- Do you replay all your sentences in your head before you saythem to me?

R- No!!!!

*Jaehyun laughs*

J- cute

Goodnight Rose, hope you have a good day tomorrow

R- You too. Hope you have a good time at the fan event

J- Of course you know our schedule, thank you

*Call ends*

R- YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHO I JUST SPOKE TO!!!!

D- If you don’t say hyunjae or Chris hemsworth i dont wanna know

R- ITS HYUNJAEEE

D- WHATTTTTT

The debrief with daisy lasted longer than your call with him and you were sure if hyunjae was anywhere near you he could hear her squeal. Gosh it was all so surreal, now that you were narrating it to her you realised how unreal it was that you just spoke to HYUNJAE.

To your utter ( & pleasant ) surprise you did see hyunjae the next week, smiling as he walked towards you, Eric was still at his session so you guys will be talking alone, well not completely alone, it was the hospital cafeteria.

R- I thought you were busy this week

J- Awww you’re missing me

R- NO I AM NOT

J- Dare i say, i missed you too?

R- oh

J- Clearly not as much as you did but yeah

R- um you want something?

J- A fraction of your schedule yeah

R- I meant from the menu

J- Oh in that case nothing

R- You sure you don’t wanna eat something? You had a busy wee-

You did not realise how close he was to your face until you turned around.

J- Careful rose, you don’t wanna get me habituated to you

GOD WHY DOES HE LOOK SO PRETTY!!!!

R- oh um okay

E- Wassuuupp my two favourite people in the world?!

R- Hey Eric how was your session?

E- It was so boring today i hate writing stuff

J- don't you have a schedule to run to?

E- schedule?

OH YEAH RIIIGHTTT. I gotta run doc rose, i got a schedule see ya

R- Bye-

J- So where were we?

R- In the cafeteria?

J- Funny. You know what I'm talking about

R- No I don't

J- Yes you do

Or would you rather me spell it out for you, hmm? The way he leans onto the table close to you is making you nervous.

This boy needs to stop getting so close to your face.

J- I'll take that as a yes. We were talking about you giving me a fraction of your time and coming to this music festival with me

R- Music festival?

J- Yes, I've heard great things about the band that's playing tonight and i take you as a music lover so you'll like it there.

And as a bonus you get to spend your evening with me

R- Hmm can you make my evening worthwhile tho?

Stupid girl don't get flirty with him what if strikes bac-

J- If you allow me I can

R- ….okay sure we can go

J- Okay, it's a date then!

R- IT ISS???

J- I don't know if you sound happy excited or just shocked, but I think I've made it pretty clear that I'm interested in you, so would it be okay if this is a date?

R- mmm okay

J- See you, rose.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

one day I'll be better at tumblr formatting but it's not today😔

for loml @un-love

[letstalkwhump]

Let's Talk Whump No.15

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! I’m Malice and I’ll be your host today. 

Here today to talk all things whumpy is the fabulous @actress4him!

We’re thrilled to have you here, @actress4him! Let’s start with a non-whump fact or two about yourself!

I go by Jada! I’m a mom of two girls, ages 6 and 8, and it’s a blast watching them play all the whumpy things we did as children and wondering if they’ll grow up to be whumpers, too. When I’m not writing, I enjoy creating cosplay, occasionally drawing, and going on adventures with my family.

Let’s get straight to the point! What does the term whump mean to you? 

Anything where the character goes through a hard time, physically or emotionally, or ideally, both! And we’re actually allowed to focus on it and see the beginning, middle, and aftermath.

And how did you find the whump community? Anything specific that made you want to join?

It all started on fanfiction.net with the hurt/comfort tag, then led to AO3, where I learned of Bad Things Happen Bingo and first started seeing the term whump. That prompted me to create a Tumblr account, so that I could participate in all these whump events I was hearing about, and the rest is history!

Has your view on whump changed since you joined? Maybe your choice of OC vs Fandom?

When I first joined I was solely writing fanfiction, though I did write a series with an OC 

insert, and I had been writing original stories for most of my life. It took a bit of time and seeing how well other people’s OCs were received on Tumblr to get the courage to go back to writing my own characters and universes. 

And now everyone’s favourite bit: let’s talk whump tropes! Do you have nay particular favourites?

Lady whump, if that counts as a trope! Also captivity whump, restraints of any kind, especially gags/muzzles and stress positions, using whumpees against each other, playing on fears, whipping, stabbing, touch-aversion, even better when combined with touch-starvation…I could go on.

They’ve all got to be in my top favs too! Do you mind sharing a couple of your favourite pieces that you’ve written?

Oh my, that’s hard to decide. If I’m allowed to pick two, I’d first say Again, the opening piece for my series Obsession. The writing muse was just flowing that day and I always liked the way that one turned out.

Then from my favorite series, The Shadow of Death, my other favorite piece is I Will Punish Your Friend for Your Failure. That was a bingo prompt that I had way too much fun writing, there’s just so much pain all around for both the characters and so much angst to go along with it!

Damn, I love the lady whump in“Again”! So good. Do you mind sharing what your writing routine looks like?

I do most of my writing at night after my kids are in bed, usually between 10-11pm. I also sneak in writing time while they’re in dance class, though I do more rp during the day than personal writing. I have been known to get struck with a certain sentence that I don’t want to forget and quickly open Google Docs on my phone to add it, but most of the time I need to sit down with my laptop and get the words flowing to get much done.

And is there an easy thing for you to write? Or something you struggle with writing? 

Dialogue usually comes easily to me, especially when characters get angry. That seems to be when they have a tendency to take over the plot and do whatever they want! 

My biggest writing struggle is battle scenes, which is unfortunate considering the number of characters I’ve created that need to have physical fights fairly often. 

GIve us a sneak peak! Is there anything you're working on at the moment? 

Currently I’m putting the most work into the Soldier Boy AU with my OC Kamaria. I’m not entirely sure how it’s going to end yet, since it started out as a simple idea that I thought would only take 2-3 parts and I’m now on part 6, but it’s been a fun ride so far. 

I’ve also been having fun brainstorming, role playing, and writing a bit of Kamaria’s Royal AU, and am hoping that my brain will let me write another chapter of Liliana’s story sometime soon.

Is there any writing advice you’d like to share?

For me, what works best against writer’s block is having multiple series/WIPs so that I can bounce around to whatever is inspiring me at the moment. It’s when I try to force myself to write something that I’m not feeling that I start getting stuck and bored. And when the block still hits, I do a lot of reading - of others’ works and my own old ones! - and roleplaying and brainstorming with friends and searching for prompts to get inspired again. Most of all, though, just be patient with yourself when the muse is in hiding! It’ll come back eventually. 

Finally, shout-out time! Let’s hype some people up!

Shout out to @painful-pooch for being my best online friend and brainstorm partner and for bringing her OC Bruno into existence!

Also to @aprilwaters and @sableflynn for being so welcoming when I was first finding my way in the whump community, and to these fantastic people for being my ongoing rp partners:

@inscrutable-shadow

@peaches-and-dumbs

@ocean-blue-whump

@crash-bump-bring-the-whump

@whumpy-arts-and-crafts

And to everyone else on the Slices of Whump Discord server for making it a great place to hang out!

Anything you'd like to add?

Thanks for this interview, it was fun! And to anyone reading, I love chatting whump and meeting new people who share the same interests, so feel free to stop by my blog and say hello anytime!

Thanks so much for joining us today, @actress4him!

And to all you lovely folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

[philtstone]

Anne/Gilbert, 13

#13 - You say my name for the first time and I fall in love in an empty bar

two days ago i accidentally stumbled upon an ancient half-written opening scene to an anne of green gables psych au in the depths of my wip folder, and it struck me that whatever this concept was, the world deserved to see it. so i decided to pummel it into a coherent prompt fill and here we are. the prompt is ... interpretive, but i think it works. if it isn't clear, anne is shawn, diana is gus, and gilbert is juliette. i don't actually know if there's a lassiter in this universe; suggestions are, of course, welcome

for @foolgobi65, because as one might expect, the title of the google doc read, "for maya"

Anne’s day ends with her spitting out a large gulp of no-brand hallucinogenic instant coffee onto the potted azalea in their lobby. 

Well. That is not wholly accurate. One could argue that Anne’s day ends with the gasping splutter that follows, and the wide-eyed stare she bestows upon her sheepish colleague slash long-time childhood friend slash former sworn enemy, slash --

Well. That, too, leaves some points unaddressed. 

The most accurate account capitulates that Anne’s day -- an all-around uneventful, if emotionally complicated affair -- ends with the soft, butterfly-wing laugh shared by two friends who have acknowledged the known truth of a secret badly kept and ultimately harmless in practice.

But that’s where Anne’s day ends; it begins quite monotonously, with a tip-off about Mrs. Blewitt’s peevish cat having gone missing (it had run away and good riddance, Anne insists, a conclusion she comes to without any collection of evidence nor erstwhile psychic episode), and the spilled bowl of coco puffs that heralds the complicated emotions of the day’s middle.

And so, without further ado, the middle:

Gilbert is starfished on the floor, t-shirt clad back against cheap laminate. 

Gilbert has been starfished on the floor (t-shirt clad back against cheap laminate) all afternoon. Anne does not know if this is his natural mourning position or something unique to this particular lamentation. Either option is pitiable on principle, and saddening in the more subjective sense; he is a dear friend, and this a sticky situation. 

But the fact of the matter is that his limbs are simply too long to be starfishing in the Lady C’s Psychic Detective Agency lobby. Specifically, they don’t actually have a lobby, as the entire space is just one dinky office and a houseplant.

“Oh, Gilbert,” says Diana, placatingly, as she’s said at least twelve times in varying tones of commiseration in the last hour.

“I’m a fool,” Gilbert tells the ceiling. Anne can acquiesce that the ceiling is a very good listener; she and that ceiling have had many a despondent heart-to-heart in the past year alone. “A prized idiot, Anne.” 

Anne scowls. 

She does so enjoy being right -- it has to be said -- but that doesn’t mean she would pull an I told you so after someone’s job has been lost. Jobs are livelihoods. Livelihoods mean being able to do things like actually afford groceries, or own a car that does not make horrible rattling noises every time one turns on the left-hand blinker. 

She got the “I told you so” off her chest hours ago. 

“You’re not an idiot,” says Anne, more snappishly than she intends it. “You’re a good person, Gilbert Blythe. That is not an idiot.”

“I am,” insists Gilbert. “This was a terrible idea. Zero out of ten, would not do again. Why didn’t I go into medicine? Remember Ms. Stacey from the seventh grade? She said I should go into medicine.”

At this, Diana throws Anne an aggrieved look from under the well-groomed fringe of her glossy dark hair. 

Diana -- when she isn’t saying “Oh, Gilbert” in commiserating tones -- is making coffee in the corner in what must be a noble attempt at offering a comforting hot drink during a time of trouble. Only, she’s using the last of their instant coffee mix, which Anne employs more in DIY home facial remedies (a desperate bid to reduce her stubbornly-enduring freckles) than she does in coffee. It generally tastes like putrified cardboard and has odd kernels of glittery orange stuff in it that Anne once insisted almost did give her an out of body hallucinogenic psychic experience.

Marilla had said “Fiddlesticks” and attributed that to sleep deprivation and a too-large cup of artificially caffeinated joe, but that is beside the point.

The point is: Anne’s not sure if the coffee is their best course of action, comfort-wise, and of course reminiscing about seventh grade is not going to get them anywhere good. Seventh grade involved terrible hair dye jobs, the distasteful entity that was Josie Pye, and that one time (read: the entirety of seventh grade) where Gilbert tugged Anne’s braid in a misguided attempt to get her attention and Anne vowed to hate him forever. 

Obviously, Anne did not keep good on that vow, else Gilbert would not be starfishing on the floor of her slightly-fraudulent psychic detective agency office, in the throes of misery. 

Anne sighs. She tries to telepathically communicate to Diana that it is indeed a go on the well-meaning offering of mediocre bean juice and taps her foot. 

“Here, Gilbert,” says Diana, kneeling down and offering the chipped mug to the general vicinity of Gilbert’s prone chin. Gilbert looks at her desolately, and then down his nose -- it’s a very fine nose, Anne thinks unhelpfully -- at the steaming cup. He goes a little cross-eyed.

“Oh,” says Gilbert. “Thanks, Diana.”

But he doesn’t make any move to get up. Anne taps her foot more insistently and crosses her plaid-clad arms, frowning.

“Drink the coffee,” says Anne, in a tone she hopes brooks no argument. Diana told her only yesterday that she’d quite excelled in recent weeks at achieving it. The wisdom of its application had been another matter entirely, tangled in an unfortunate case involving a missing Jersey cow and a classical opera singer’s heirloom willow-pattern serving platter -- but that was neither here nor there, and Diana’s faithful encouragement was greatly appreciated.

A Jersey cow in Toronto, Anne thinks now, huffing. Of all the things --

Gilbert has not taken his coffee. 

“Gilbert,” says Anne.

Perhaps the stuff’ll be so strong that Gilbert will be knocked right out cold, thus reprieving him of his woes for a short while. Or maybe it’ll give him that hallucinogenic experience Anne had, and, subsequently, he will realize that Anne herself is not the real thing, and merely an expert fake, and their carefully-built, much-cherished friendship will be over forever.

Fiddlesticks, says Marilla’s sensible voice in Anne’s head. 

Focus, Anne, thinks Anne.

“Gilbert,” Anne says again, in less theatrical tones, “you did absolutely nothing wrong. You are free of the corrupt institution of manufactured public justice now, and good riddance to that.”

This is the second time today Anne has said “and good riddance to that”. Gilbert says nothing, and continues frowning at the ceiling. 

“You pursued justice,” continues Anne -- and is it really her fault the theatrics are creeping back in? -- “and for that were dishonourably suspended. You followed protocol and reported disingenuous practices that were hurting an innocent family. That’s more than enough to ensure your relative moral standing in an ethically complex situation. So, really, who is the dishonourable party here? The --”

“The Toronto police department,” offers Diana helpfully.

“The Toronto police department!” finishes Anne. 

“Yes,” says Diana.

“Yes,” repeats Anne, then flounders, realizing her point has already been made. “And – well – good riddance to them!”

There is a beat; Gilbert turns his face, rather muppet-like, across the floor, to look at her with marginally-less miserable eyes; the top of his curly dark head flops against the floor. They stare at each other awkwardly for a long moment.

“Well?” Anne says, finally. “Drink that poisonous coffee and up and at ‘em.”

Finally, Gilbert sighs, and pushes himself up onto his elbows. This is good. One brown-fingered hand grasps the death liquid in a sort of fumbled grapple for balance and prevented spillage. He says,

“Thank you, Diana -- Anne. I -- I know.”

“Well, good,” says Anne.

“I’m just -- I’d be perfectly happy figuring out a new life, on principle, but this case -- I can’t just leave it.”

“Well that’s a given. Obviously, you’ll figure it out. Bring those clowns to justice.” 

This is Anne speaking.

“Right,” says Gilbert. There is a furrow remaining between his frustratingly nice brows. “But Anne -- I don’t have any resources anymore. I got fired, remember? I had to turn in my badge and gun and even my car.”

“We have a car,” Diana says helpfully. Anne nods, not quite realizing the end goal her bosom friend and psychic detective partner is building up to here; she is more caught on the fact that Gil’s department issued vehicle was a sleek Volvo, and Diana’s car is her mother’s ancient fire engine red Toyota and outside of ongoing engine troubles also smells eternally of the family kimchi recipe. “We have food in our fridge, too –” (that kimchi) “and we have pens, and pencils, and lots of paper, and a printer – Anne’s got a taser, even –”

“Diana,” Anne hisses, instinct overriding any higher brain function that would catch on to Diana’s burgeoning Point.

“You know that’s illegal, right?” says Gil, unhelpfully,

“What I’m trying to say,” says Diana, “is sure, you have resources, Gilbert Blythe. You’ve got us, haven’t you? Actually, well, I’ve had a really great idea. You could just work here!”

It is here that the heroines of this daytime drama begin their journey towards the spluttering end-of-day outlined at the beginning, because at this cheerful declaration Anne turns, and blinks rapidly at her colleague. Gilbert, in turn, blinks at Anne.

“You’ll be an official part of Lady C’s Psychic Detective Agency!” continues Diana, all dimpled smiles, and even claps her hands together – so enthusiastically that the puffy cold shoulder sleeves of her powder blue top bounce. “I think that solves all of our problems, don’t you, Anne?” 

The late afternoon sun shining through the half-covered office window is making Diana’s Wednesday work-day highlight pop quite extraordinarily; perhaps this is what distracts Anne enough that she does not take her by the well-manicured hand and say, with awkward comedic timing, a word? like people do in humorous television shows. Rather, realizing that there really is nothing else she can say: 

“Oh, erm, sure.” 

Only then, somewhat immediately, does the reality of the statement barrel into her like that damnable Jersey cow. 

“Diana,” Anne hisses, a second time.

“Oh, don’t be a sourpuss, Anne,” Diana says breezily. “I think Gil’ll get on just fine here. And anyway, Marilla gave us, like, four days’ worth of leftovers to keep in the fridge. We need a man to help us eat through it.”

Amidst all of this, Gilbert’s expression has been slowly evolving from an understandable bewilderment to a perhaps more expected bemusement. By the time Anne has gathered enough of her wits to a), ignore him, and b), say, “No one says sourpuss anymore, Diana,” (because she is feeling acutely uncharitable in that exact moment), Gilbert has properly pulled himself up into a sitting position, rested his elbows loosely upon his knees, and said,

“That sounds fine to me.”

Anne whirls around to face him. She has lost words. How could Diana do this to her? This great betrayal of her deepest trust? Absolutely, Gilbert cannot work with them. Gilbert, who she has finally made peace with. Gilbert, who is one of her most valued friends. Gilbert, who trusts Anne, but does not at all know her process. Gilbert does not know the minutiae of her talents. Gilbert does not know that she is, in fact, lying through her teeth to the law, for money and also the greater good of the Greater Toronto Area. Well, perhaps it’s more like bending some truths – but Gilbert is an innocent in this equation, is the point! Of course, he is innocent in a manner that makes him utterly guilty and culpable in every respect, as Anne never hesitates to blame him for her many personal ills – but the fact of the matter is that she, Anne, will not be able to keep her fraudulent clairvoyant claims safe if Gilbert is living in her detective office.

“It’s not like I need a place to crash or anything,” Gilbert says, as though reading Anne’s very unhelpful and resoundingly mute train of thought. “But what I’d give to beat the bastards who did this at their own game.”

… Oh. The case. Which they have still not solved.

Anne, with herculean effort, unsticks her voice.

“No,” she says. “Absolutely not. This is a terrible idea, Gilbert Blythe. I won’t have it.” 

Gilbert eyes her very carefully, like she is a puzzle he cannot quite crack. Diana, on the other hand – who has been collecting her coffeemaking supplies with efficiency – whirls around on her way to the kitchenette and offers Anne a terribly pointed, knowing look. 

“I think it’ll be good for all of us, actually.”

“No,” Anne says. Really, she almost clasps her hands together in prayer. “No, no no no no, Di-ana –”

But Diana is gone, and Anne finds herself suddenly mute again: Gilbert has abandoned his laminate lamentations and stood to his full height.

He’s right in front of her and everything, too. She is struck by an awful earth-shattering vision of the same unfairly broad, football player’s chest now directly in her eyeline walking away from her, broken and defeated by the soul-destroying betrayal that will follow his inevitable realization that Anne is a lying liar who lied. 

“C’mon, Anne,” Gil says, as he steps forward to follow Diana out. His whole person is too close, his voice too chummy, just by her ear but oh so casual, and then, in the most infuriatingly possible way he could say it – “what’s the worst that could happen?”

And he leaves her standing in the empty Lady C’s lobby, wishing that she really did have psychic abilities after all. 

Maybe then, she could have seen this total disaster of a development coming.

[overlyobsessedwriter]

Oh hey, it's been a while. I've shot 10 rolls of 35mm pictures over the last couple of years, and I'd like to think that I've been getting better at it.

Everything shot on a Pentax K1000 with Fuji Superia 400 color film.

Chicago, during my summer 2021 cross-country road trip. Unfortunately the roll that I rapidly loaded at Oshkosh didn't turn out, so I missed out on the second half of this trip including the Badlands and other points West. Still bummed out about that, I got some great shots of bighorn sheep and the plains.

My friends Victor and Doc Brian at a WWII event at Eisenhower's farm in Gettysburg, October 2022. Yeah, I didn't shoot much between 2021 and 2022, that missing roll took a lot of damage. Most of the stuff from here on is reenacting, I haven't had a chance to go hiking with the camera really.

My friend Sam at the US Army Heritage and Education Center's open house, October 2022.

Part of the WWII Pacific encampment at WWII Weekend 2023 in Reading, PA. My largest reenacting event of the year, and one of my favorite. They park a B-25 in front of our camp, and every morning I wake up to see it filling the view out of the end of my pup tent. It rained for two days of the event this year so I didn't get many chances for photos.

Another event in Pennsylvania in summer 2023, they had a Huey land at the edge of the event field and I got the chance for a great photo. Too bad I only went for the single shot.

Home sweet home for the weekend. It was miserably hot and we didn't have a good source of water for three days, but at least the fighting position gave us some shade.

My friend Logan portraying our platoon leader. I've been trying to take more portrait shots these days, and I love how these turned out.

Tank Farm 2023 in Nokesville VA, in what turned out to be the final year of the event. I'm so happy this one turned out, the light meter wasn't working and so I just shot randomly.

Words can't describe how much I'm going to miss this event. Us reenactors got were allowed free reign of 30+ armored vehicles for two days and nights. I was able to climb into so many rare vehicles and meet so many great people over the four years I attended.

There are a couple other rolls of specific events that I'll probably make a post for over on my other account so I don't just spam pics here. I have nine more rolls of Fuji Superia 400 in my freezer that I got for cheap and another two rolls in my cameras, so hopefully 2024 will have more landscapes and nature shots in the mix instead of just reenacting events.

[runicmagitek]

Hi there Runic!

I was wondering your opinion on using Scrivner to draft fics vs using Word? Like pros and cons? (Some of the articles online are so confusing! >//<‘)

Thanks so much for the ask, anon! And also thanks for your patience; I wanted to give this some thought, hence the wait.

I primarily use Scrivener and have been using it for a little over a decade. I also use Word during the final phase of edits. I'll list some of my favorite features of each one, followed by the cons.

Scrivener

Organizing a story in Scrivener is where it shines the most. For a longer story, you can break things down by chapter and easily move them around as needed. For me, I use a single file for all my fics and breakdown folders by fandom, then by ships. The use of status markers and labels and custom meta-data, while initially daunting, are also super great to flag what state your draft is in along with any other indicators you wish to use. For me, I like marking if fics are for an exchange or a gift for a friend. I've even customized the meta-data so I can plug in potential tags and ratings as I go!

Snapshots is a neat function that makes a copy of your current file. I use it with each new phase of editing, in case I need to refer to an older version. It's super easy to switch back and forth between snapshots, plus there's a preview to show what has been removed or added from the last version!

There are a ton of compiling options for when you wish to export your story as a Word doc or a PDF or even for epublishing. I don't use this too often, but I have lots of friends who do and it makes proper formatting really simple.

There is a focus mode that removes all the UI stuff and just shows you the words. If this didn't exist, I wouldn't be able to write anything lolsob.

You can set target goals for each document or even the entire file. And if you have multiple documents in a single folder with word count targets applied, Scrivener will add them all up and give you a total target estimate. Really handy for planning out how long your story will be!

THERE IS A DARK MODE THEME.

Word

The grammar/spelling checker is a lot more robust in comparison to Scrivener.

Sharing your Word document and sharing notes/comments with beta readers is a LOT easier in Word. It's similar to how Google Docs works with leaving comments, replying to each other, and marking them as resolved.

Copy-pasting from Word into AO3's rich text preserves the formatting, whereas I've had a lot of wonky issues going from Scrivener to AO3.

Text-to-speech, while kinda weird, is a godsend when I want to read out loud a fic before posting, but don't have the energy to do so.

If you have Word, you likely have a Microsoft subscription, which means you have access to OneDrive, which makes for VERY easy backups. Plus you can get Word on your phone and work off that and your computer seamlessly at no extra cost.

THERE IS ALSO A DARK MODE.

Hokay, now for cons.

Scrivener

Scrivener is not free. It is a one-time fee of $60~. That said, if you participate in NaNo and win, you can get a discount code (I believe it's 50% off?)

It was originally made for Macs, but then a Windows version was developed. The team behind Scrivener is very small and it took… forever to get the Windows version up to speed with the Mac version. There are still some differences between the two, but thankfully both versions are on the same page. Jumping off of this, there is an iOS version, but no Android version.

If you wish to back up your Scrivener stuff, you can only really do that via a Dropbox account. Also, I believe it's not possible to open the same file on different computer types. So if you have two computers (one Mac and one Windows) and want to open the same file on both, it's not really going to work. In my experience, I've also run into issues getting things to sync and open when using two Windows computers. So if you're planning to bounce around different computers/laptops/etc., definitely keep this in mind.

On top of that, for every device you want Scrivener on? You need to pay for that.

Scrivener has got one hell of a learning curve, too. I've been using it for so long and am STILL discovering new ways to use it. It can be intimidating, even after you go through all the tutorials.

Word

This also costs money, but sadly is not a one-time fee AND you need to invest in a bundle plan instead of just getting Word. Home subscriptions range from $70 to $100 a year, depending if you're getting it just for yourself or for your family/friends to use too. For me, I use it with my boyfriend and we use all the programs a bunch, so it works out well for us. This might work for you too if you're interested in having access to things like Excel and OneNote and cloud storage. But if you just want Word, that's not really feasible.

I haven't experienced this because I've stopped writing novel-length stories in Word, but I've heard from friends that the program slows down after 30k words or so, which is unfortunate and frustrating.

Furthermore, you can't really transition from file to file in Word as you can in Scrivener. You'd need to manage the folders on your computer outside of the program.

Word isn't really designed for book formatting. You CAN do it, but it takes some extra work on your end to format things accordingly, whereas Scrivener has a bunch of built-in features to help with that.

Microsoft is A LOT bigger than the Scrivener team, thus there are frequent updates. And because of that, you need to perform more updates to the program and might even need to reacquaint yourself with features and UI changes.

I hope this helps! Regardless of which program you wish to use, I hope it goes smoothly and you have a blast writing your stories on it!

[harley-the-pancake]

This is just a post to try and keep things organized on my blog. If you want to know my pronouns, name I go by, age, etc, just look in my bio. I just reblog and post whatever I want.

I don’t have an official dni, I just don’t give a fuck half the time, as long as you aren’t a dick to others, you can stay

I also don’t mind people using ideas that I have, making things off of the ideas or fics I have, or tagging me in silly @ games.

I also have a second account I occasionally use as a studyblr, which is Pancake-tries-college.

My AO3 is Pancake_Overlord

I have two side blogs:

@pancake-tries-college is where I keep my adulting stuff

@bite-sized-pancakes is where I keep my little stuff cause I think I may be an age dreamer 👍

My pfp is made by a picrew from @wervty

Important sorting tags:

#vent chai latte - posts that are vents or emotional (I don’t always use it I am gonna be honest)

#diary posting - a new tag I’ll be using when I ramble about emotions, meds or just more personal things that are not about my school or friends (LATER HARLEY UPDATE: It is also becoming a bit of less fun school stuff tag, eg talking with professors, getting homework done, etc)

#Into the datemate pile - a tag that I use just to save & share things with my datemate, who does not have an active tumblr

#ph anon of the opera - my ask tag. It does not matter if you are anon or no, you are all ph anon in my eyes hearts (I also have a tendency of hoarding my asks but be free to still send me asks)

#ask game - just replies I’m saving from like descriptions of me or ask games

#my wife saga - my datemate is studying abroad then researching in idaho so I’m being dramatic. This will be happening for 3 months.

Tell me if I need to tag anything for you

From @hee-blee-art

Posts that I feel like sharing:

A post I made about saving Rats SMP vods and led to some decent archives. I did nothing, but it has the link to the document that has a whole lot of links so!

A post I made with a document that I use to save a whole lot of MCC vods and a few VODs I have saved myself

Not an important post, however it’s a post I love and I want to keep on my pinned for when I want to see. It entails some games of One Night Ultimate Werewolf for my datemate’s birthday

This isn’t a post of mine, but I wanted to save Tumblr fairy tales

A ramble on the life series from my datemate. Read it. This is a threat /silly

A list of things to cheer anyone up ^-^

Candy for any trick or treaters who don’t want to send an ask

Best video ever

Datemate poll

[hournites]

Are you still taking holiday prompt requests? I'd love to read your take on prompt 22 “I wanted to make you a holiday dinner, but I forgot I can’t cook…” Courtney says this after a failed attempt at fixing dinner for the JSA. Maybe beth comes to the rescue? Would love it if you add Beth/Rick fluff too.

"Are you sure we're not being kidnapped?" Yolanda asked for the fifth time, tapping her nails impatiently against a tablecloth. She's blindfolded just like Rick, Beth, Cindy, Mike, Jakeem and Cameron are, and they're sitting at what seems to be Courtney's dining room table, on account that Courtney had invited them here and then promptly told them to cover their eyes without any further explanation.

"Can't say for certain," Rick sighed, massaging at his temples. He's given up on trying to figure out Courtney's bizarre plans.

Cindy pursed her lips. "I don't have time for this, new girl."

Courtney's nervous giggling echoed out from a distance. "It's only like, twelve more minutes, uh, forty-five tops!"

"Forty-five?!" Jakeem yelped. "I can't stay here that long, I told my mom I would be back home by 7 and I can't even text her to tell her that time's changed."

"Relaaaaax Jakeem," Mike told him, teetering precariously on the back legs of his chair. "If Courtney's going to get you in trouble with your folks, then Courtney's going to get you out of trouble."

"That would be fair," Beth agreed. She wrinkled her nose. "...Why do I smell something burning?"

"Burning?! Oh fu--" A crash sounded from the distance. "Nobody move!" Courtney yelled. "I totally got it handled!"

"No she doesn't," Yolanda said under her breath.

"Burning?" Cameron asked. "Something's burning?"

"What? You can't hear, either? That's what Beth just said, dumbass."

"It's not like we can see!" Cameron shot back at Rick, scowling at the wall in front of him because he had no idea where Rick actually was.

"I swear to god if Court sets this house on fire in the hour Mom and Dad are at Target I'm gonna..."

"Is that paprika?" Beth knew that they were all told to be seated, but putting two and two together, she realized what might be going on. She stood up quietly, lifting the blindfold from her eyes. She sucked in a tiny gasp at the table set in front of her and smiled. She appreciated the effort, but Courtney absolutely had her hands full.

She went to the kitchen, knocking on the wall. "Need a hand?"

Courtney spun around in one of Barbara's flowery aprons, holding a turkey baster dripping with grease. Half of her hair was matted down for some reason and she looked like she'd just trudged through a cranberry bog. "Beth!" she hissed. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

Beth unhooked The Ultra-Humanite's (or was it Pat's?) Kiss the Cook apron from the wall and tied it around her waist. "Courtney...There's not going to be much of a surprise if the food never gets cooked."

Courtney pouted.

Beth checked the pots on the stove. The gravy was goopy, the cranberry sauce was too tart, the mashed potatoes were not nearly mashed enough, and the green beans appeared horrifically dehydrated. "Oh dear."

She opened the oven and inspected the turkey—It was half-frozen.

Courtney grimaced. "What's the damage, doc?"

"Did you not know that turkey takes at least three hours to cook?"

"...I guess I'm more like my mom than I thought."

Beth hauled out the giant-ass turkey pot as Courtney cleared room on the stove. She poked around. "Was this bought pre-stuffed?"

"Pre-what?"

"Oh Court. You might as well tell the others that they're sitting for nothing."

"I can't give them nothing!" Courtney shot Beth her biggest puppy-eyes. "I wanted to show my appreciation to everyone for being the best JSA ever and I wanted to apologize for being a kind of flakey friend and team-member, and girlfriend, I guess, and--"

"Courtney, none of us are mad at you about what Ultra-Humanite and Icicle did. He manipulated all of us."

"I know, but-"

"You still want to do something nice for us. I get it. You're very endearing, Court." Beth stared at the attempt of a meal some more and sighed. "Over-ambitious, but endearing. I might be able to salvage some of this if you give me a half hour."

"Yes!" Courtney's turkey baster flied out more juices, splattering Beth's glasses. "...Oops."

Beth pried the kitchen appliance from Courtney's hands, silently pointing to the dining room where her poor friends were silently miserable.

"...Okay..."

Courtney shuffled into the dining room, wringing her hands. "You can take your blindfolds off now."

One by one, starting with Rick and Mike tearing theirs off as fast as humanly possible, Yolanda, Cindy, Cameron and Jakeem slid their blindfolds up into their hair.

Yolanda crinkled her brows together at the nicely decorated table. "Is this what I think it is?"

"...It might be." Courtney took a deep breath. "You are all gathered here today because...Well, because I wanted to make you a holiday dinner, but I forgot I can’t cook…"

Mike laughed so hard he fell over on his chair. Jakeem jumped up to help him.

Rick opened his mouth and closed it. "Since when did you ever think you had the skills to pull that off?"

"I've made pancakes before!"

"I'm sure you did your best," Cameron said encouragingly. Courtney grinned at him. Rick rolled his eyes. "Where's Beth?" he wondered

"So...now what? We order pizza?" Yolanda wondered out loud.

"Ooh. And wine?" Cindy piped up.

"No!" Courtney exclaimed. No to the pizza. Big no on the wine."

Cindy rolled her eyes. "No fun at all in this house."

"Beth said she's got it, so we're going to trust her to figure something out....eventually. In the meantime....Netflix?"

Rick stood up as everyone went toward the living room, curious to see what was happening in the kitchen instead.

He found Beth in a “kiss the cook” apron, muttering under her breath as she scooped out clumps of bread-stuffing from a really big uncooked bird.

"Hey," he said, leaning against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a smile.

Beth glanced over her shoulder and smiled at the sight of Rick. "Hi."

"Am I distracting you....or...?"

"No, be my guest." Beth finished with the stuffing. She set it to defrost in the microwave. "My mom says there's a such thing as too many cooks in the kitchen, but I don't think you really count as a cook, so..."

"Ouch." Rick chuckled, making his way over. He sits on a stool of the island next to Beth. "You seemed pretty at ease with the whole blindfold thing."

She shrugged. "I've had many long chats with Dr. McNider and what it's like to be visually impaired. I know being blindfolded isn't anything like being legally blind, but I took some of his advice. It's a lot less scary when you hone in on your other senses."

"Smart." Rick watched as Beth looked around the kitchen, craning her neck up at the shelves. "You need something?" He stood up, following her to the cabinet in question.

Beth bit her lip. "Just the sugar and cinnamon."

Rick opened the cabinet and brought it down for her.

Just as she reached for the sugar container in his hands, Rick pulled it away.

"Hey!" She shot him an annoyed but amused glance.

"What's the password?"

"Password?!"

Rick stepped closer. "No password, no sugar."

Beth tried to go for it again, but Rick simply raised it above his head.

"Rick," she laughed. "You're being ridiculous."

"That's not the password."

She crossed her arms. "You're so hungry it's making you insane, is that it, Rick?"

"No," Rick said, though maybe that was slightly possible. "Alright, I'll give you a hint. It's an adjective, and...I think you fit it."

"It's an adjective," Beth repeated. "And it's the password for the sugar container?"

Rick nodded. "Use that brain of yours."

A look passed over Beth's face that made Rick think she knew what it was. She confirmed it when she grew timid, tucking her arms behind her back as she glanced at her shoes. "...Is it "sweet"?"

Rick gifted her the box. "It's very sweet."

"Oh," Beth said, hugging the sugar to her warming chest. "You think I'm sweet?"

"I think you're a lot of things," Rick murmured, stepping closer.

Beth blinked fast. She wasn't one to be shy, but sometimes Rick made her feel things she wasn't sure how to handle. And sometimes Rick said things that made it almost seem like...She set the sugar for the cranberry aside, then glanced back up at him. Her eyes darkened when she saw him lean forward, and then her back was pressed against the counter. Her breath hitched.

"A lot of things?" She stared at Rick's lips.

Rick licked them, and then his hand was cupping the back of her neck, and her palms were spread out on the front of his shirt, and their eyes closed just as they kis-

"Courtney texted her mom and she said she has instant rice that you can use and--" Cameron glanced up from his phone and froze at the sight of Rick and Beth a breath away from a lip lock. "Uh."

They both stopped immediately, turning at their intruder with identical deer-in-the-headlights looks.

Cameron stood there, dropping his hands to his sides. "Um," he said again. "Huh. I thought you were into Courtney."

Rick looked like he wanted to murder him.

"...Rice," he repeated when it became evident Cameron was disastrously incorrect about that assumption and turned swiftly on his heel. "Bye."

When Rick looked back at Beth, she said, "I still need the cinnamon," just as quietly as what she had said before.

"I'm not into Courtney," Rick said in a rush.

Beth smiled at him, tugging him down by fisting his shirt collar. She placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "I know."

Almost an hour later the dinner was as ready as it was ever going to be. With the sugar and cinnamon, Beth saved the cranberry sauce, got the stuffing warmed enough to be edible, and had the mashed potatoes and the turkey wings cooked. Courtney and Yolanda served the turkey wings between the eight of them like they were a starved fairytale family. The salvaged meal was supplemented with instant rice and other items in the freezer. The burned gravy was thrown in the trash with the shrivelled up green beans. By the time everyone had a decent-sized portion of food on their festive plates, Beth was half-asleep, resting on Rick's shoulder.

Jakeem took a big bite of his food. "These pizza pockets are the bomb." He swallowed. "Totally worth getting in trouble."

He offered some of his left over four cheeses to Cindy who refused. "Ew," she said. "No."

"Thank you!" Courtney replied.

"Wow," Barbara said when she walked in through the front door with Pat mid-meal. "I was just telling Pat it must be a party. I saw Rick's car and Jakeem's bike outside. It smells wonderful."

"Take a seat!" Court insisted. "It's the First JSA Supper!"

"Wrong holiday," Yolanda muttered under her breath as she took her seat, knowing what she meant to say. "And wrong metaphor."

"Did you make all this, Court?"

"No," everyone chimed in unison.

"Not even a little bit," said Mike.

"It was Beth," Rick told Pat as he dragged over a chair.

"Well, yes, it was mostly Beth," Courtney explained to her mom, "but it was my idea, and it's the thought that counts so..." Courtney shrugged. "Dig in?"

fin.

[all-about-that-vinyl]

Entry 1: Sparrow’s online vinyl cafe (11/2/2023)

If you see this, please give it a read, two minutes of your time, please?

Cw for mild swearing and mention of losing a loved one (not graphic)

Hi. My names Sparrow, I’m 17 from and I’m Irish/English. I also use any pronouns :)

So, a bit about me. I decided to make a blog dedicated to music, specifically vinyl mainly cause it’s been a passion of mine ever since I was born really. My music taste hasn’t changed much in the past seven years, once I turned ten my music taste was pretty much solidified.

I started playing guitar at 7 and I recently got my first real fender Stratocaster and it’s the love of my life it’s called darkstar (name your guitars you’ll feel more obliged to play it) I still can’t learn chords for the life of me though-

Fun facts about me

- I literally only wear my doc martens even in the summer- they’ve been through a lot but there still in once piece

-I have asthma 💅

-im pansexual

-my favourite colour is red

Things about my profile

Ok so this is basically the terms and conditions of my account

- anyone of any age is allowed on here since the content will be majority PG if it is for some reason not I will put a warning. I swear a lot so that will be labelled.

- please do not message me if you are under 16 or over 19 and if your a 20 year old messaging me without a good reason I will just block you same goes for kids under 16.

-black lives matter that goes without saying and I am not afraid to bite an entitled arsehole of a person.

-If you are a n@tz!, p3d0, deamsexual (?!) or just anything under that category, DNI please. If I find out your interacting with my account I will report and block you.

-no bi, pan or any queer erasure. I think that goes without saying

-bullying won’t be tolerated unless it’s like that fun inside joke bullying you and your friends have, if your straight up belittling someone I’m reporting and blocking you-

Right the serious shit is over

Let’s talk about vinyl and music

Like I said before music has been such a significant part of my life since I was little I’ll always remember the CD and vinyl collection my dad had when I was growing up and his own Fender Stratocaster he had. Unfortunately my dad died in 2013 and I’m not entitled to any of his stuff until I’m 18. But my dad would love what I’m doing now, his own dream was to open his own record/music store and he very much passed that down onto me. He was never able to complete his dream so I’m trying for him. Sure this isn’t what he had in mind but this is all I have right now. Tumblr… I love collecting vinyl, I have 37 as of now and my collection is worth just over £1K.

Favourite bands?!

I love metal and rock, definitely my two favourite genres here’s a list too see what we have in common

- ghost (SWISS ?!)

- ACDC

- five finger death punch

- in this moment

- green day

- nirvana

- muse (I love muse)

- Shinedown

Anyway yea. If you see this, please leave a like, maybe a comment or a reblog, I really want to try and grow a community on here and make likeminded friends. It was good taking, until next time.

~ Sparrow

[400legends]

The Key, the Gear, the Room (Day 181)

The Java Data Center 21 cafe - the virtual cafe, I should say - was filled with the glorious notes of Hanadarian composer Misha Mali's opera, The Winsome Widow. My new wireborn friend, Marty, grinned at me and said, "OK Doctor Quinn, of all the places you could go, you picked the JDC? Do you know how many corridors there are on the station, how many rooms?"

I shrugged. "This is just a test of our VR rigs. But my friends are here. Uh, there. The other JDC. The real-- Well no, this is real. This feels real."

The music volume changed to a soft undercurrent to our conversation. Marty shook his head. "First time, huh? I guess I should have guessed. Are you really a Proxy?"

"Oh yes. Thank you for asking that, actually because.... I mean, you see...." I hadn't thought to use this visit into VR as a reconnaissance opportunity, but here was an opening. I began again. "The Curators, my creators, they gave us the directive to explore, to seek and to see, to experience, and then to return to Olara to share the bounty of all those moments." I paused, suddenly a little overwhelmed by the thought of the home I had never seen.

"That's beautiful, man." Marty nodded. "That's deep."

"And something that I want to explore is the Veeruxian culture. Any, uh, pointers on that?"

Marty froze for just a moment. "Hold. That. Thought." Six seconds later he said, "I don't get you. Your vibe is cop, but you're clean. My sweeps would find anything if you were layered. So, Veerux, huh? I mean, I think they're real. Nacora's a big, big, big place, right? It's a galaxy, man. Anything that can happen, will happen. So why not a murderous society built on baseless prejudices?"

"I understand that there are places here, in the virtual reality, where people costume play as Veerux. It's too much to hope that you know anything about that?"

Marty laughed and clapped his hands. "Best moment of the day, of the week, talking with you. Are you, like, fresh out of the tank or whatever? Listen, VR is good for two things: sex and violence. The safety protocols prevent violence unless you go into a room where safeties are off. What you're looking for, the safeties are off, way, way off."

"I understand."

"I'm not sure you do but alright. You like opera; you like Mali, so you're OK in my book. Find the corridor, get a key, and I dunno, try not to die, Doc."

***

Everyone returned ladened with weapons, armor, and gear. Cosmic Peanut handed me a carbon fiber breastplate and the plasma batteries I'd asked for. I transferred funds to her account as she asked about the VR rigs. I related the essence of Marty's advice.

Merrin said, "The dark web will have the info we need. Let's take a look." It took EDI's help to find what we wanted, but we located the cosplay room and a key code. "Not exactly subtle about this," muttered Merrin. "We should have told EDI to throw up about 800 aliases."

I said, "If we can help rescue Cosmic Peanut's parents from that Veerux prison ship, it's worth whatever risk."

"You really think that crashing a cosplay room is somehow going to help? I mean, you might be right. Six months ago I didn't think Veerux were real, and now they're blowing up planets."

"Allegedly," said EDI. "The investigations are still ongoing into the cause or causes of the destruction of Hanadaria."

"Point taken, EDI," I said. "And to your point, Merrin, that's exactly my rationale - very few people know anything about the Veerux. It's all legend or thousand year old reports, wild rumor. Trying to gauge Veeruxian armor and weaponry from what a group of coplayers are doing seems as valid as anything else."

Just then Cosmic Peanut's voice came over the comms. "Quinn, Merrin, any luck?"

"Indeed, Captain," I said. "We know the corridor and the room."

"We just need 600 credits to get the key," added Merrin.

Before Cosmic Peanut could react I said, "Captain, I have 15,575 ill-gotten credits. I will buy the key."

Requiem came on the comms. "We can all pitch in. Let's meet at the rigs. I'm almost positive that we're on the right track."

When we'd all gathered in the hangar, Requiem said, "That picture Quinn found of the cosplayer - I don't think that is just coding. I think that's real armor 3-D scanned into VR. This AlphaRuxMore, he's got real Veeruxian armor. I'd bet on it."

"You are betting," said CP. "600 credits' worth."

"Yeah," said Esmae, "I've been thinking about our budget. I don't think that this AlphaRuxMore is going to welcome a Glabrau or a Maeshar and certainly not a Hanadarian. We're going to need to buy skins."

"And weapons," I said. "My friend Marty said that VR is only good for sex and violence."

"He's not wrong," said the captain. "But I don't usually need to take out a loan when I jack in."

20,000 credits later we were outfitted with Demosian bodies, Veeruxian costumes, and - just in case - weapons. I'd gone cheap on the body and unintentionally cheap on the costume. I'd shown the Ixian shopkeeper a picture of the red priest we'd met way back on Lush, and moments later, for 250 credits, I had a robe almost identical to the picture.

Cosmic Peanut had opted to be similar to a character from F&F LXIII named "Lil' Ryan." "Little" due to being a toddler. "For a hundred credits, it's the perfect disguise," she insisted. "And besides," she added, "I wanted something I could use again." To the Ix she said, "Make me a baby monk."

Esmae was a male Demosian with dark hair and a scar. She picked a Veeruxian warrior outfit that was based on a cartoon she found. The boots had curved spikes at the front and 3 inch soles. There were spikes along the outside of her arms and legs.

Requiem studied Esmae's avatar. "I'm thinking fewer spikes, more grace, more...." She flexed her virtual body. "More movement." She held the picture of AlphaRuxMore out to the Ix. "What is this going to cost me?"

"Those dings in the armor don't come cheap," said the Ix. "2,300 credits."

Requiem silently nodded. She'd already spent over 4,000 credits for her Demosian body.

"I'll get weapons for us," I said before I looked at the prices. A disruptor shotgun cost 4,500 credits. A pistol was only - only! 2,000 credits. "Um, so I can afford two shotguns and two pistols."

"This is real money for fake things!" said Cosmic Peanut.

"I can't think of a better way to use the money I stole from the casino," I said. "Better to be prepared. No safeties, remember?"

A few minutes later my words came back to me. We stood in front of a door, and as Requiem touched the handle, a giant message popped up: “Safeties are off beyond this door. Select Yes if you understand.”