#i still have the same problems. but at least they are cheaper problems now

[dying-suffering-french-stalkers]

been having a bad hair day this whole month

[cheswirls]

oh i totally forgot in the being-out-of-town hype that turned out to be my birthday weekend but i DID finally secure copies of pksp hgss 1 and 2 AND got the last full volume of xy so hopefully i have all of xy in physical form now since the epilogue isn't in the magazine-release mini volumes :) if there are any add-ons to earlier xy chapters or bonus chapters (the one where y gets a sylveon tho there must be more) in other full volumes then i'll get those eventually but for now!!! aaaaa!!!!!! my heart is full

[teaboot]

how do you find/buy sex stuff? I'm sure there are websites, but I don't even know where to start. What would be safe and reputable? Do you have any suggestions, or advice on picking something "good"? Also thank you for opening your asks for stuff like this.

okay, so here's the shake:

I personally believe that you can buy decent sex toys anywhere, providing that:

The listing is honest about the product's materials

You know what to look for

Silicone, glass, and metal are the safest materials you can use. They're the least reactive with natural bodily chemicals and are the least likely to give you problems.

SILICONE: Not 'silicon'- silicon is NOT SILICONE. Slicone solids are never 100% transparent and might, MIGHT appear translucent and foggy at the clearest. Silicon might be shiny OR matte, but if it's matte please know that velvet or soft-touch coatings are most often non-silicone materials added after the toy itself is molded. This is usually fine, but if you know your body is sensitive to that, one brand I know has the texture built into the mold is Fun Factory. It's pricy, but it's high quality and comes with a warranty.

NEVER ASSUME AN ITEM IS SILICONE UNLESS THE ITEM IS DESCRIBED AS SILICONE.

GLASS: Tempered glass is usually fine. If you notice chips, cracks, or hairline fractures in it, bag it up and throw it out.

Metal: Same story. Chipping, flaking, cracks, oxidization, toss it. Acrylic toys with metallic coatings will degrade in contact with oils, unlike actual metal, so be sure to check materials.

People shit on sites like Adam & Eve and Pinkcherry, and yeah those are cheap stores that dont sell the best stuff, but they still have LOADS of good quality product and do frequent sales and clearouts if you're nervous and not looking to drop a lot of cash right off.

If you can afford it, brands I absolutely recommend are Womanizer, Fun Factory, Hitachi (now owned by Vibratex), Tom of Finland, Sinvention, and We Vibe. They're all high-quality and most have warranties for damage or malfunction.

On the cheaper end, Calexotics, Doc Johnson, Evolved, and Ouch!.

Websites like Bad Dragon, Extreme Restraints, and Sinvention are known to have good customer service and high-quality products.

Websites like Adam and Eve, Pinkcherry, and Lovehoney I've heard good reviews for, you just need to be careful about what you buy.

I've yet to encounter a legit site that isn't discrete, btw. Everything is usually sent out in boxes.

Please avoid AliExpress. You CAN buy there, but I don't trust that shit

[ccalhoun]

≻ ┄┄ ♡ ┄┄ ≺

carlisle cullen x m!werewolf! reader

warnings: male reader, werewolf reader, imprinting, twilight lore, omegaverse?, forbidden love, reader gets hit by a car lol, love confessions??, esme doesnt exist (still love her tho)

wc: 2.1k

cut for length!

you drove into town in your dad's truck, old and slow. your family hated going into town, and you never understood why, which is why you were on a sort of errands run for them. of course you knew of the cullens in all of their vampire-ness but you never found it as much of a problem, what were the chances you'd run into them anyways?

the laundry list of things to do was long, longer than you'd expected, so last minute you called your friend jess to help keep you company on your long day ahead of you. you picked her up from her cute but humble house and headed towards the first place on your list, newton's olympic outfitter's. "aren't you and one of the newton boys together? mike, right?" you asked as you looked at the list on the seat next to you while pulling out of jess' driveway. it'd been awhile since the last time you'd hung out even though you considered jess to be one of your closer friends, the reservation didn't get good enough phone reception to call as frequently as she wanted.

"uh, no, we broke up actually," she mumbled quickly from the passenger seat next to you. "oh, damn, sorry. what a bitch," you added the last part jokingly, trying to cheer up from the topic. you both laughed it off and continued the drive until you got there, continuing your conversation as you walked into the store. "i just need to get a few things for my sibling(s) and dad, shouldn't take too long," you assured her as you quickly found the first thing on your list. the day went mostly like this, stopping by random shops for the few odd items before the final store on the list, just getting a few groceries that are cheaper to buy in forks. you entered the store and followed the routine as normal, getting whatever you needed and getting out as soon as possible.

caught up in your conversation with jess, you hadn't even noticed the small red car speeding through the parking lot. everything happened so fast all you can remember is walking with jess, hearing her scream, and then being on the ground of the parking lot. "tyler! what the fuck is your problem!" jess yells, you only vaguely hear it before she rushes over to help you sit up. "at least call an ambulance asshole, don't just stand there with your door open!" you heard her yell again before she started to check on you.

before you knew it, you were being taken into an ambulance and rushed to the hospital. the hospital. a shiver runs down your spine and you hear the heart rate monitor pick up its beeping as you realized you're going to the one place in forks where you have been forbidden to go by your family.

you start panicking, trying to get out of the ambulance in any way you can.

"hey, calm down, we're going to put you under for the rest of the ride, okay? we can't help you if you don't let us," you hear the nurse in the back with you say after trying to get you to stop freaking out.

you woke again in a hospital bed, the smell of medicine invading your nostrils immediately and making you sneeze.

"ah, you're awake, and just in time. the doctor's on his way right now." the same female nurse says before finishing up on writing your vitals and waiting for the doctor. your heart drops when you hear her mention him, no doubt it was carlisle cullen. what if he killed you in the hospital, right there, he probably had manipulation powers to make everyone think nothing happened.

"i don't need a doctor, i'm fine, let me go," you rush out as fast as possible while trying to sit up, the action only making you dizzy as the nurse gently laid you back down.

"once the doctor says you're fine you can leave. you only have minimal bruising and a few cuts, you'll be out of here in the blink of an eye," the nurse comforted you, and it seemingly worked as the heart rate monitor went back to normal. you took deep breaths, only a few minutes with the monster and you'd be able to leave and never go into forks again.

you heard footsteps approaching and turned your head to the door, the door knob turned and your heart dropped again, fear pulsing in your veins more than it ever has before. then he stepped into the room and you were filled with a new feeling, your heart started beating faster, and it was like you had tunnel vision on him and him alone. you couldn't hear the busy sounds of the hospital, and you surely didn't notice the nurse standing too close for your liking anymore. the first thing your brain registered was that the doctor had the best smell you've ever encountered, like vanilla, honey, and lavender all at once.

"-use me, sir?" the nurse said, only hearing the last part of whatever she was saying. you adjusted back to reality quicker than you wanted, then you noticed the doctor standing in front you, trying to get your attention for an unknown amount of time.

"cullen," was all you managed to squeak out, staring with wide eyes at the man in front of you. he was better looking than anyone you'd ever seen, like god himself graced the doctor's face. he wasn't what you expected from the stories you've been told. you were told his eyes were empty and loveless, but as you looked at him his eyes were warm and more full of love than a father seeing his newborn baby for the first time.

"i see you're from the reservation, brave of you to come here," his voice was angelic, like he was singing a song only for your ears to hear. you gave him an alarmed look before you could stop yourself, was he threatening you? was your pack right?

"what?" you stuttered out and you were met with a soft, too soft to be real, chuckle and a warm smile from the doctor. "i don't see many of you in the hospital, i was starting to think you've all been avoiding it because of me,"

"they have," your words came before your brain could filter them, his frown was quick and the cutest frown you've ever seen, the kind of frown that made you want to hold him and kiss it away. "sorry, just something the tribe elders told us to do, it's not like any of us hate you," you stumbled over your words, and lied through your teeth. some of the members of your pack hated the cullens like they'd been personally attacked by them. the smile on his lips made your heart skip a beat, which was well documented from the heart monitor you nearly forgot about.

the doctor, carlisle you think, shone a light in your eyes, and then checked your ears, and listened to your heartbeat. his hand was on your chest, and you're sure he could hear the affect it had on you.

"well, good news, you can be released and you already talked to the police so there's no need for you to stay." you didn't think it was possible but your heart dropped again, you'd almost wished you got hurt worse so you could spend more time with him. "i'll finish this paperwork and get it on file as soon as possible, you should be able to leave within the hour. is there anything else you need?" you barely heard the rest of his sentence, still focusing on the fact that you wouldn't be able to stay around the doctor for longer.

"um, would it be possible to talk to you? in private?" you asked sheepishly. you were 110% sure you were imprinting on him, and you were even more sure he was definitely a vampire. you didn't hear any heartbeat, and you were quick to notice his larger than normal canine teeth. your question was met with another warm smile that made your heart restart and a nod.

"yes, of course, let me get you unhooked from the equipment and i'll walk you to my office, okay?" his voice was soft and reassuring, like he knew what you were going through. there was no way he knew that much about werewolves, right? just as he said, he helped you get the various wires off and led you to his office. his door read 'doctor carlisle cullen', you had remembered his name correctly. he opened the door and held it open for you, the gentleman you could only dream of. he closed the door gently but swiftly behind himself.

"please, take a seat. what were you wondering about?" he asked sweetly as he took his own seat and set a few papers before himself. you didn't plan to get this far, you hadn't figured out what you were going to say, so you just said what came to mind first, "i know you're a vampire," your words came out jumbled. he stared at you with a blank look, millions of thoughts racing through his head. you picked up on his reaction and rushed out the rest, "i'm not gonna expose you, everyone in the pack knows," hardly comforting, but better than him thinking you want to ruin his life. he let out a small noise of understanding, and that itself made your heart skip another beat.

"what is it you came here to tell me?" his voice was colder now, but still melodic like he planned his words for centuries.

"i'm sure you know about, you know, the whole werewolf thing," you paused as you spoke, looking at him to gather his reaction, and he nodded to signal you to continue speaking. "do you know anything about... imprinting?" you whispered the last word like it was poisonous.

"ah, you came to ask about that. i can try to help as much as i can, but wouldn't you prefer someone from your tribe to explain it to you?" carlisle's words were soft and understanding, with a hint of genuine curiosity.

"no, uhm, hold on i think i need a minute," you stuttered out, trying to figure out the least awkward way to explain you think he's your soulmate. you thought for a minute, carefully putting a sentence together before speaking again.

"doctor cullen," you started, "carlisle, i think i," your voice was caught in your throat, but you tried your best to finish you sentence. "i think i imprinted on you," you ripped off the band-aid and rushed it out. you stared at your shoes, though you'd rather be looking at carlisle's godly beautiful face. after a moment of silence you peeked a look at his face to gather if he was upset or not. you couldn't pinpoint the emotion on his face, shock? fear? anger? your heart started beating at an irregular pace again, "i-i'm so sorry, i'll go," you felt tears in your eyes and started to gather the small bag of belongings you were given before his voice stopped you.

"no, no, you're okay. i'm sorry, i didn't know that was possible," for once his words didn't seem as well thought out, it was jarring but his words flowed together as beautiful as always. "and you're sure?" he asked.

"yes, i think, i don't know. i haven't felt this way before, it's just like it was described to me. like you're the only person who actually matters anymore," you spoke freely, which surprised you.

"hm, well, i'm new to this too, we can figure it out together," carlisle's voice was warmer than ever, you felt like a blanket was being placed over you. you smiled and were going to stand up when he was suddenly standing right next to you, you jumped slightly and he let out a playful laugh, his laugh was beautiful, like angels singing in a choir. "apologies, forgot to warn you,"

you stood up and hugged yourself to him, his arms wrapped around you in the best hug you've ever had. he was cold, but you were sure you were warm enough for the both of you. you never wanted to separate from it, and let out a whine when he pulled away, surprising yourself more than you thought you could today.

"i'll tell the hospital something happened with one of the kids and we can talk about this more, if you're okay with it," you agreed quickly, the other patients could wait, how much trouble could happen in forks while you hog him for a little?

≻ ┄┄ ♡ ┄┄ ≺

[octuscle]

Hey Cronivac Support,

I dont trust myself with the settings so i am asking you. I am Half German and half Moroccan, and I look German af. Brown hair, brown eyes, big smile and a really white skin. I am thinking what would happen if my appearance were based on my Moroccan genes.

Can you help me out?

Brother, chill out! Have a shisha. Just ignore that there's German shit in your body. Your dick is circumcised. You pray at least once or twice a day. Friday you also go to the mosque… It doesn't matter if there are still German genes in you.

Thursday morning. You will survive the last school year at the Gymnasium. What comes after that, you don't know yet. Something with languages might make sense. Your mother tongues are Arabic, German and French. And you are actually quite good in English and Spanish at school. But you also enjoy science. First lesson today is chemistry. Stoichiometry. Actually very interesting. But somehow you have more and more problems to understand your teacher. When he approaches you, you start to stammer. You can't think of the right words. "Youssef, you are welcome to answer in English, if that is easier for you." You sigh in relief. German is really a difficult language. And even though you have a German grandmother, German was never spoken much at home….

During the break, you hang out with your brothers. Talk about soccer, cars, the usual stuff. Smoke an e-cigarette to go with it. And you make an appointment for the afternoon at the gym. Then it's off to the workshop at the vocational school. Metalwork. Hey, you're not training to be a car mechanic so you can mill toys out of metal plates. You want to become a car tuner. And create really hot cars. Your vocational school teacher is from Syria. Fled a few years ago. He speaks much better German than you do. You've only been in Europe for two years. Your mother had the French and the Moroccan passport, so you could immigrate relatively easily. But you didn't understand why you had to move to Germany. Some of your pals now live in Marseille. You would have found that cool, too… But Stuttgart? Just because your father found a good job as an engineer here at Mercedes? Anyway, you're a fighter, you'll survive Swabia.

Lunch is at the snack bar of a former colleague of your father. He has saved up enough money on the assembly line for his own snack bar. And now he makes the best falaffels in town. On weekends, you help out a little. You can always use the extra money. And that way you also get the food cheaper. Since you've been in training, you no longer get pocket money from your parents. You are the eldest son, you now have to do your share to feed the family. And if you are the first to have a vocational qualification here, your chances of getting a permanent right to stay are also the best. If only it weren't for this terrible language…

Gym, auto repair shop, vocational school, Gym…. Your daily routine is somehow always the same. Your boss is also a Muslim, from Turkey, so you have tomorrow afternoon off to go to the mosque. But you also have to work on Saturday. But you are grateful that you have the job. And you can afford your car and the gym. It was not easy to come to Europe. It cost your parents almost all their savings. And now it's your damn duty to succeed and support your family. For that you learn to be a car mechanic, for that you sell falaffel on weekends. That's why you mop the gym floors and clean the toilets at night. You even study German for that. However, this has already brought you a few thousand followers. Your picture from the last workout has 800 likes after just half an hour. Let's see, maybe new opportunities to become rich and famous will develop. You have the right gene pool!

Pic of your latest workout found @tufas

[literary-motif]

Two Weeks

Alex x Reader

You continue sharing an apartment with Alex after he breaks up with you. The past weighs heavily.

“So is this going to be us intensely avoiding each other for as long as I stay here or—?” Alex let his sentence trail off. You did not turn around to face him, silently continuing to make yourself a cup of tea.

It was only for two weeks, after all. Two weeks, and you would be rid of him forever. 

Kicking him out of the apartment had felt like a cruelty you could not bring yourself to do to him. Two weeks had felt like nothing at all, considering the two years you had been together with him. You could continue living with him until his flight went to the US — at least you told yourself you could. 

“What do you want me to say?” you replied dismissively, picking up the cup and turning to face him. “Did you expect everything to stay the same?”

“No!” he said exasperatedly. 

His hair was disheveled. You knew he ran his hands through it repeatedly when he was frustrated. The thought that the situation weighed as heavily on him as it did on you offered you at least a little comfort.

You took a sip of your tea. 

“But I thought we could at least be civil — be friends, even!”

You could not help the incredulous laugh from slipping past your lips. “Friends?” you said, with a humorless chuckle. “Honestly Alex, you’re delusional. What did you think would happen? You broke up with me, telling me you were leaving the country in less than a month! What—? Do you think my life is a joke? Where do you think I— How am I supposed to afford this place alone? Did you think of that, huh? When you told the whole world that you got a prestigious job offer on the other end of the world, did you maybe consider that you were throwing me off the deep end with literally no warning?”

Alex blinked, opening his mouth to reply. He frowned. “You’re well off,” he said, sounding confused. “I never thought that this might be a problem for you. I— I can help you out with rent, I think.”

You shook your head, the fight leaving you with a deep sigh. “Don’t kid yourself,” you said, cradling the warm cup in your hands, “you might make enough to support yourself, but apartments in the States aren’t any cheaper than they are here.”

He sighed as well, leaning against the doorframe and biting his lip. “I’m sorry,” he said, suddenly sounding small. “I— I swear I didn’t mean to. There was just so much going on that I didn’t consider something so fundamental. I mean, I was uprooting my whole life, losing the person I loved” — the past tense stung — “I didn’t consider how leaving would be a financial problem for you.”

You waved a hand in dismissal. “I’ll figure it out,” you mumbled. 

Despite things seeming bleak — finding an affordable apartment in London in two weeks was next to impossible — you were confident that everything would click into place eventually. You could support yourself independently. Working at the law firm gave you enough stability to be alright without him. 

“What you did hurt me more than anything,” you said quietly, staring into your tea. “Part of me understands your reasoning, but being the last to know about the job offer you planned to accept from the beginning when your decision affected my life so much, felt like a betrayal.”

“I know,” he said, rummaging through a cupboard and pulling out a packet of his favorite biscuits. “After you accused me of cheating, I couldn’t— I couldn’t see you the same way.”

“You know I said that on a whim, right?” you said, looking at him. “It was a stupid accusation, and I didn’t believe it when I said it. You were gone so often that I didn’t know how to express my frustration. I thought you would deny it and move on, seeing it as the overreaction that it was. Instead—” you trailed off. “I didn’t know it would hurt you so much.”

He scoffed, taking a bite of his biscuit. “I can’t imagine anyone would brush off such an accusation. How would you have felt?”

“I see that now. Still, just because you were hurt and angry at me, it did not give you the right to shut me out completely like you did. I get that you thought our relationship had changed, but you did not even talk to me about it.”

“I couldn’t, you were too fixed on Natalie!” he said, raising his voice in frustration. “Every time I tried to talk to you, you made some snide comment about how ‘I was always with Natalie’ or how I was ‘going to go see Natalie,’ when I was working on my career! Do you remember what we said when we first met? Our career always comes first. Always!”

“Yes, but I didn’t love you back then!” you screamed. “How— what are we even comparing? I want to further my career. I would seize every opportunity, but never at the expense of our relationship! I— I always thought we would make it work. I imagined you flying from Paris to New York to take snapshots for magazines that would pay a fortune to have your amazing pictures, but you would be a phone call away when I lost a case. You would be here to give me a victory kiss when I won a tough one.”

“Yeah,” he said, holding out the packet of biscuits. You shook your head, and he gave you a sad smile. “I guess life doesn’t work out how we want it sometimes.”

You looked at him for a long moment, trying to find the person you so loved under the cloud of animosity that had hidden him away lately. 

“You know,” you began, taking a sip of your tea to gather the strength for the words you were about to say, “we could still try to work it out if you would be open to giving us another chance.”

Alex bit his lip, searching your gaze. He opened his mouth to reply. 

His phone rang, the caller flashing brightly where it lay on the kitchen table. Natalie. “Sorry, let me just—” he said, picking up the call. “We’ll talk later. I need to take this. Hello?” 

Your face fell. “Don’t bother,” you mumbled, watching him leave the kitchen.

Two weeks. You could do two weeks.

[saetoshi]

in theory, grocery shopping with reo seemed like a good idea. great, even.

in reality, well, not so much.

you don’t hate it. but you don’t particularly enjoy spending over ten minutes in the same aisle trying to convince reo to pick the cheapest product, either.

you’re not even sure why he wanted to join you. surely he had better things to do. you know you did, at least. (like that essay you should’ve started about three days ago that was due midnight.)

you absentmindedly check the grocery list, frowning when you realize you’d barely even gotten half of the products you were supposed to get.

“what’s the difference between these detergents?”

you look up at reo, raising a brow. “the price?”

he gives you a deadpan look. “no, like, the actual difference.”

“one of them’s got a scent booster,” you point out, “the other one doesn’t.”

he mouth forms a small ‘o’ in understanding. his gaze flickers between the detergents. “so which one’s better?”

“the cheaper one.”

“shut up,” he frowns and sticks his tongue out at you, “i’m being serious.”

you roll your eyes, “i don’t know, you tell me.”

he blinks. “the one with the scent booster, obviously.”

“yeah,” you sigh, “but it’s more expensive.”

“so?”

you cup his cheeks, playfully squishing them. “so, i’m on a budget here, babe.”

“so?” he sounds muffled (it makes you let out a soft laugh.) “just take out that bag of candy you put in the cart?”

you let go of his cheeks, “not a chance.”

he frowns at you, “you shouldn’t even be eating that, it’ll rot your teeth.”

you wave him off, “that’s a problem for the future me.”

he firmly calls your name.

you groan, “i’ll take them out at checkout.”

you move to grab the cheaper detergent when reo beats you and grabs the more expensive one, swiftly putting it in your cart before grabbing your hand and walking away.

“what’re you doing?” you glare at him.

“i’m doing you a favor.” he doesn’t even look back at you, “besides, we should hurry up, it’s getting late.”

“now you care?” the corners of your lips turn up in an amused smile.

you snort when you hear him mutter a ‘whatever’ under his breath.

the rest of the trip goes by quicker. (or at least as quick as it can go with reo gently trying to convince you to buy the more expensive things while you not-so-gently tell him to back off.)

the checkout is what slows you down, though. what with reo looking over your shoulder to make sure you do leave the candy bag behind, and the hushed argument you both have when you realize you also have to leave behind some slightly less important items from your list to accommodate the things reo snuck into your cart.

you’re still frowning when you walk out of the store. “i cannot believe you really made me leave behind my candy.”

you glare at him. “i really hate you, you know.”

“no you don’t.” he stretches his free arm above his head. “besides, you’ll get over it.”

you give him an amused smile, “and what if i don’t?”

“then,” he smiles at you, “just know that next time, i’m paying for your groceries, candy included.”

“next time?” you laugh, “what makes you think i’m ever bringing you with me again?”

he shakes your arm, “please, you loved having me around.”

“plus,” he playfully smiles, “it’s an educational experience to shop with the lower class.”

you kick the back of his shin, and he lets out a loud laugh.

“way to rub it in.” you quickly place your free hand in his. he’s even quicker to lace his fingers with yours.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” he squeezes your hand, “let’s just get you home so you don’t blame me when you miss the deadline for your essay.”

so, you both make your way back home. candy-less, penniless, but full of laughter as you tug on reo’s hand all the way to the train station.

[bluesest]

Hello. I had an idea for a while. A guy named Jorge with a plump bubble butt unknowingly ingested dairy when he's lactose intolerant and suffers nasty explosive diarrhea all day and shits himself at least three times in the same day.

A Lactose Distract

Jorge was a young sportsman and independent, he lives alone so he takes care of the household chores such as cleaning, cooking and shopping.

Every end of the month, Jorge goes to a supermarket where he is in charge of buying groceries from home, he made sure that they have enough protein to maintain and grow his muscle mass even more, he had barely been in a local gym for a month and his muscles were still not marked, He always thought the gym would be the same as sports, but he found it even harder to see results, aware that it only takes a short time for him to expect more from his body.

He concentrated on taking foods such as red meat and fish, great foods to support his development, or well, that's what his coach told him, another food was dairy that helped by providing calcium, however, he could not afford to eat this type of food because he was lactose intolerant.

Jorge struggled with this problem since he was a teenager, one of his habits was to eat ice cream every Sunday but little by little this generated problems: first gas that gained a terrible smell and that used to last a long time, then stomach pains such as colic and finally an incredible desire to evacuate his bowels, he remembered how one of those days when trying to fart he literally shit himself with thick and bad diarrhea This problem continued until his lactose intolerance was detected, and from that moment on, Jorge dedicated himself to taking care of his diet.

He used a dairy replacement, i.e., lactose-free products such as lactose-free milk, among others. Whenever he went shopping, he made sure to check his milk cartons and read his labels. 

This specific day he bought 3 cartons of lactose-free milk, next to him was an old woman who bought regular milk, she left her shopping cart next to Jorge's while he was distracted by seeing a sign with the week's offers, the old woman got confused about her cart and took Jorge's (both shopping carts only carried milk cartons).

Jorge turned to look at his new cart and confidently did not check its contents, ready to continue with the shopping day. An hour passed and he was already paying when the first warning flashed, the milk had an irregular price, that is, cheaper, but he did not give it importance and thought that it was just an offer that he did not realize existed.

He came home and restocked his fridge with all the food he bought, sat down to watch TV, and fell fast asleep.

After a three-hour nap Jorge got hungry, he took cereal with milk and helped himself to two dishes, they had a different flavor, a sweeter one, but again he didn't think about it, he thought: "Maybe now they put more sugar in this cereal"

An alarm distracted him from his thoughts, it was his digital hand watch, it only meant one thing: his daily jog to the park. He dressed in black leggings and a gray shirt, grabbed his phone and headphones, and jogged out of his house, but without first making himself a milkshake to drink in the park and relax.

He reached the halfway point when he stopped, ignored the music on his phone and closed his eyes: *GRRRRRRRRRRRRR* that was the sound that generated his stomach, it was so loud that Jorge managed to hear it even with his headphones on, took his arm and began to feel his stomach.

"Ufffffffffff, what was that? Am I hungrier? It's a good thing I save my milkshake for problems like these."

He took his thermos out of a small bag he was carrying and finished taking it all in one sip, his stomach stopped his annoying noises and Jorge decided to continue with his daily jog.

When he arrived at the park his stomach rumbled again, but this time a small pain invaded his body, he stopped and this time he turned off his headphones and put them away, put his hands on his hip and looked at the sky closing his eyes: "I don't think it's hunger... I've already eaten a lot in a very short time, but my stomach feels so bad..."

His back bent and he bent down keeping his hands on his hips and his eyes closed *GGGRRRRRR* "What's happening to me... I'm sweating a lot...?" he lifted his head *GRGRGGRGRGR* "I feel... Feel... something inside my stomach, could it be...?" he opened his eyes and relaxed his stomach... *pftftfftft* "uuggghhhh, I had a fart stuck *GRGRGGGRRRR* and I think I have another one... *PPFFTTFTFpfptptf* this one was even worse, ufffffff yes it sucks *GRGRGRGGRRGR* Oh no, here comes a big one"

*PFPPPTFPTPPTPTFTPF* *PRPRRPPSPSS* *PFFFTT*

Time froze, Jorge opened his eyes as wide as he could and led his left arm to his stomach and his right to his bubble butt, it was real, the unthinkable happened, an adult shit his pants:

"Oh no no no no, how could this happen? What should I do? I didn't even feel like going to the bathroom!"

*GGGRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

"But now I can feel it."

He repositioned his arms and running with all his might fled the park, he didn't want people to find out what happened through the terrible smell that enveloped his body, from afar you couldn't visualize any stain thanks to the dark color of the leggings, however, if you pay attention you can see a small lumpy bulge on the back of the tight pants.

*GGRGRGRGGRGRGRGRGR* *GRGRGGRGRGRGR*

"Not again, please!"

*PFPPFPFFPFPTPTPTPTPTPTPTPTFPF*

"UGH"

*PRRRRRRRRR*

"I don't understand, that I could have eaten enough for this to happen to me, I hadn't shit my pants since I was a teenager!"

*GRRRRRRRRRGRGGRGRGRGRGRGR*

Sweating and with his tired legs he managed to visualize his house in the distance, when he touched his garden he felt an annoying stomach pain that prevented him from continuing running, Jorge felt that the shit was approaching his back door trying to knock it down and come outside, with each movement the rancid mixture turned and hit Jorge's large intestine.

He took the same position as before, one arm to his stomach and the other to his butt to apply pressure to prevent his underpants from ending up in a big mess and shaking, Jorge grabbed the keys to his house and quickly opened the front door.

"I must get there, I can't hold on, WHY THE HELL DID THEY BUILD THE BATHROOM BY GOING UPSTAIRS?! ugghhhhhh"

*PFTFTFTFTFTFTTFTTFTTFTF*

Climbing the stairs was quite a challenge, his diarrhea was struggling to get out and his tense and tired muscles were not strong enough to try to climb the stairs by jumping or running, but despite this Jorge managed to reach the top and dazzle the open bathroom door.

He arrived, left his bathroom door open, pulled down his tight leggings and underpants with various proofs of the stomach mess, and sat down on the neat, clean porcelain. 

*PPFFPPTPPTFPTPFTPPTPFPTPPPPT* *PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRP* *SQHHSHQSSHHQSQHSHHSHSQHSQHSQHSQ* *PFFTTFTFTFTFTFT* 

Jorge lived alone, so he didn't limit himself to containing whatever was wrong with his stomach.

*PRPPRLLLTLTLTLTLLTLTLTLTLT* *BRLLARRSRASAPPAPPAPPAPPAPPABRLRLRLRR* *PRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *PLOP* *PLOP*

"Oh it can't be, what did I eat enough for this to happen to me?, and why right in the park?!"

*BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *SQUASHSHHSSHSHSHSSS* *GRRRRR* *PFFFFFFTTFTFTFTTF* *PRPRPRPRSQHBQHSHSQHHSQHQHQ* *SHHHHHHHHHHH*

"Oh... no, something is coming..."

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR* *HQSHSHSHQHSHQSHQ* *BKERKEBRKBEBEKEKLREEEEE* *RRRRRRRRPSSSSSSSSTRTRTTRR* *PFFFTTT* *PLOP* *PFFTFTFTFTFTFTTF* *PLOP*

"Aghhhh, I think I'm done"

Jorge took a large piece of toilet paper, folded it and slowly and carefully passed it on his burning butt, and before throwing the first piece away, Jorge stood up with his butt in the air and looked down in the toilet, the accumulated fecal material was disgusting, thick and full of lumps with a dark brown color, Jorge could swear he saw a bubble.

He sat back down and finished his work by using up half a roll of paper, flushed the toilet and left the stinking bathroom, leaving the door open for the rotten smell to disappear.

He sat down on the couch in his living room and grabbed a washcloth to wipe his sweat: "What the hell was that, I hadn't felt bad in the morning, I watch my diet, is it something in my trainer's new diet?"

*GRRRRRRRRRRR*

"Oh! My stomach is really burning inside."

*PFFFTTTT* *GRRRRRR*

"I'm so gassy, ugh, I think a nap wouldn't hurt me..."

*PPFFFFFFFFFTTTTT*

"And so I think my stomach is going to relax."

Jorge went back up the stairs with his hands massaging his stomach, he undressed, got to his room and lay down dropping on the bed, closing his eyes and with one last fart his mind shut down closing his eyes.

2 hours later...

*GRRRRRRRRRRR*

Jorge opened his eyes in a cold sweat, lifted his back and massaged his stomach again, the great pain and stomach roars lifted him, the sweat consumed him covering every part of his body especially his big butt and between legs.

Jorge looked down to see his weakened stomach, but something underneath alarmed him, he pulled his butt away and saw something terrifying: a giant brown stain covering the white blankets of his beloved bed.

Jorge was going to scream until a stabbing pain came over him:

*GGRGRGRGRGRGRGRGGRG*

"Oh God!"

He jumped up from his bed and ran naked to his bathroom without success because little by little wet gases came out of him, staining his ass more with dry shit:

*PPFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTTF*

*BRBRBRBRBRBBR* *PFPFPTPTPFTPTT*

*PRRRRRRRPFFTFTF*

"I can feel melted lava mixing with trash inside my rectum!"

Almost slipping, Jorge reached the prized toilet which retains the smell and small brown marks marked on the porcelain from the previous visit to his bathroom.

And with his butt stained, he sat down and freed his stomach a second time:

*PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTFTFTTFTFTFTTFTFTGFTTF* *HQHSHQHHQSHHSQHSQHSQ* *PRPRPRPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *SHSHHSHSHSHPFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTSQQASGGSSSAS* *TRTRTRTRTRTRTR* *BLRLRLRLRLRLRLRLRLRPRRRRR*

"AHHHHHHH, how is this a possible thing?"

*HSHSHSHSHSHSHSQHHSQSQSS* *FFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTRRRRRRRR* *PSPSPSTGHGHGHGHGHGHG* *DRDRDRGRRRRR* *RRRRRRRRRRHRHRHRHHRHHR* *PFTFTFTFTFTFTTFTTFTFFTTF*

Jorge turned his head back, his forehead swam in sweat and his butt was quite sore, there must be a cause for all this, it's not normal diarrhea he wondered until he remembered the cereal he ate:

"It could be..."

*BLRLRLRLTTTRTRTRTTRTR* *POPFTFTFTTFTFTF* *TRTRTRTRTTRTRTRTRTRT* *SHSHHSHSHSHSHSHSHS*

"I have to investigate... But first I need a bath."

Jorge got up from the toilet which thanks to the sweat combined with the dried shit of his butt left stains all over the lid, his clean toilet now looked like one that belongs to a gas station in the middle of the desert where only greasy truckers go.

He took two steps and entered the bathtub, relaxed and let the clean water cover his body replacing the sweat and shit, brown water accumulated and disappeared on Jorge's feet and with a sigh of relief he dried himself with a soft towel and left the tub without first farting.

"I don't think this will end anytime soon..."

He went downstairs when again he felt the pain of an approaching diarrhea, but this did not stop him, he reached the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, checked the cereal and there was nothing strange about it, this gave him a clue to the origin of the problem, Jorge refused to think what he thought it was and bravely took one of the cartons of milk and the news did not hit him, literally:

*GRGRGRGRGRGRGRGRRGRGRGRG*

"So this is responsible for the diarrhea I have!"

*GRGRGRGRGGRGRGRGRGGRGRGRGRGGRGRGRGRGRRR*

"I can't believe it! How did it happen?"

*GRRRRRRRR* *PFFFFFFTFTFTFTFTF*

"I must throw away all this milk... and... I MUST GO TO THE BATHROOM."

Jorge dropped the carton of milk spilling on the floor, with both hands he held his bare butt and started running with all his might:

*PFPPTPTPPTPFPPTPTPTF*

*PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR*

*PPFPTPTPPPFTPPPPPT*

"Come on, stay inside, don't explode!"

He climbed the stairs, but a misstep eventually led him to lose his strength and:

*SPLASH* *PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *HQSHHQSHSH*

Jorge shit on the stairs, his ass exploded spilling thick brown lava, he was embarrassed, but he still continued on his way letting drops of liquid shit leak out of his tight and strong ass that tried to prevent more shit from staining the stairs without any success.

Walking like a penguin, Jorge finally got to the bathroom, he saw that the toilet lid was still stained, he didn't have time to clean it, but he doesn't have time to clean it now, he slowly put his butt in the dirty toilet and relaxed:

*SQUSQHUSQHHQSHSQUAHSHASHSAHUASASSSJHSSHSHSH* *TRTRTRTTRTRTRTTTTTTRTRTRTRTRTRR* *PFPTPFFPPPTPFPTPFPTPFPPTT* *BRLRLRLRRBRLRLRRRRR* *PTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFT*

"AAAAHHHHHH WHY?"

*FPPTPPTPPFPFPPTTPFFPT* *PSJSJQJSJASPALSSPLASH* *FFFFFFFTTFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *BRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRB* *GRGGRGRGRGRGRGRGRGR*

"Personal note, check purchases before paying... AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH"

*BRRRRRRRRRRRR* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PLOP* "PRPPRPRPRPRPRPRP" *SHHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHHS* *TRTRTRTRT* *LRBRRLBTLRLRLTRTLLTB*

"I think ... Forget it!"

*PFTFTFTFTFTFT* *GRGRGRGRGRGRGGRRRRRR* *HDHJQHHJHQDDJHDDH* *PLOP* *SQHQSHHQSHQSQSQ* *TOC* *PLOP* *TLOC* *PFTFTFTFTFTTFTFTFTFTFT*

After 30 minutes Jorge was finally able to get up and set out to clean his bathroom and stairs being interrupted by occasional diarrhea, when everything calmed down he threw the milk in the trash.

[nook-of-fanfic]

On the hunt

Pairing: Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Summary: To catch a separatist spy, Obi-Wan and Cody have to stay in the same hotel. Only problem, the last room available only has one bed. For Day 5 of @codywanweek - Prompt: Only one bed Word Count: 2,985 also on Ao3

They had been chasing leads on the separatist spy through the under-city of this small outer-rim planet for the entire day, and now, finally, they had gotten a little closer to their goal.

The spy, whoever they were, seemed to have taken this specific hotel as their resting place for the night. Cody scanned the building. There was enough life teeming inside that it most likely wasn’t a trap, but that still did not mean he wanted to stay there. Before he could voice his concerns however, Obi-Wan had already dragged him up to the counter. From a strategic point of view, it obviously made sense to stay the night. It would take too long to go back to their temporary base now, and who knew where their target would be by the time they were back the following day. He was so zoned out of the conversation, still looking for the spy, that he only snapped back to attention when his general began ushering him down a hallway. Obi-Wan opened on of the rooms on the right side of the corridor, motioning for Cody to go in before he followed him. Wait, followed him? He hadn’t been on a lot of undercover missions, but he didn’t think people usually shared a room on them. As Obi-Wan brushed past him into the bedroom part, Cody stayed rooted to the floor in the entryway.

“I apologize, my dear, but they were booked out. This was the only room still available. You weren’t paying attention to the conversation, so I said it would be okay that there was only one bed. I apologize if that is incorrect.”

Now, that snapped Cody out of his stupor. One bed? Obi-Wan couldn’t possibly mean what Cody thought he meant. Finally taking in the room he was in, Cody realized that it was, in fact, exactly what his general meant. There, in the middle of the room, stood one giant bed, framed on each side by a nightstand. The space also held a closet, a small desk, and a door that undoubtedly led to the refresher. His gaze settled on Obi-Wan, standing at the foot of the bed, his pack placed on the floor.

“It’s fine,” Cody said, and really, it was. Or would be, hopefully. Strategically, this even made sense. If this entire thing was an elaborate trap, they’d at least be together and one could warn the other if they noticed anything. They could talk through their plans without either one having to leave the room after they were done, so there was no curfew to be paid attention to. It was also cheaper to have one room. Now, the bed. There had to be some advantages to that too, right? As he made his way through the room, Cody thought about it. They could both sleep facing outside, which meant they were more likely to notice any intruder, and they would be quicker to wake the other should anything happen. Yes, this was fine. Cody just had to not think about the fact that he would be sharing a bed with the man he was in love with. He could do that, right? Obi-Wan called him over to the desk to talk through their plan once more. They would wait until the next morning, slip out of their room before the target and then capture them as they left the hotel. It was simple enough in theory, and as they sat there, Cody hoped it would really prove to be so in practice as well.

For now, it was getting late, and if they wanted their head-start tomorrow, they should probably head to bed. With that in mind, Cody offered for Obi-Wan to use the refresher first, even just so he could ground himself and remember there was a mission to complete. Now that they were done planning, the shared-bed-situation rose up in his mind again.

When Obi-Wan emerged from the refresher, dressed in the civvie pyjamas they had had to take on the mission, Cody nearly lost his breath. He looked so comfortable, and as Cody passed him, entering the refresher to get ready as well, he allowed himself one small moment to think about after the war. About how, maybe one day, he’d have the chance to see this sight everyday, in their own apartment, without a mission and without unsaid feelings. This would, of course, require Obi-Wan to return his feelings, but as Cody settled into bed, his back to the other man, he decided not to think about that fact for tonight. He had already turned off his bedside lamp and shut his eyes, willing down the nerves so he could just go to sleep when he heard it, so quiet he wasn’t even sure if he was meant to hear it.

“Goodnight, my dear.” Then, Cody felt Obi-Wan shuffling behind him. “Sleep well.”

Cody answered, voice just as quiet. “You too, general, good night.” Then, he closed his eyes to finally fall asleep.

He woke up early the next morning and when he checked the Chrono on the nightstand, there was still some time before he had to get up. It was only then that he noticed there were arms around his waist and a face buried into his back. Despite being able to feel the beard through his nightshirt, he turned his head to check whether he was imagining things. But no, there, clinging to his back, was his general, hair mussed from sleep and eyes still closed. His own hands were resting on the ones around his middle, and Cody thought to himself that this was nice. He could get used to this.

The alarm rung after some more minutes, waking Obi-Wan and making him pull his arms away from Cody as he stood up. He smiled at Cody, grabbing his things and heading to the refresher. Meanwhile, Cody could feel his face heating up and he was pretty sure if he didn’t start moving, he was going to explode with the thoughts rushing through his brain at lightspeed. He gathered his things and packed everything he won’t need anymore away, doing his best not to think about how he woke up essentially cuddling Obi-Wan. Just like the evening before, Cody entered the refresher second. When he was done getting ready, Obi-Wan was already waiting at the door.

They triple-checked all the exits of the hotel, and not even three hours later, they were on a transport ship, making their way back to the Negotiator with the separatist spy safely locked away.

They did not talk about the night, nor about how they were when they woke up, but in the future, they would only rent one room if they were ever planet-side for a mission again. If anybody asked, they would say it was for convenience reasons.

[blues824]

Can you do obey me brothers with a mc who like qiqi from genshin impact(platonic ofc)

Lucifer

He knows that you are a zombie, so he will try and adjust accordingly. He finds it adorable and efficient how you give yourself orders, but sometimes you probably shouldn’t because some tasks are too much. He likes how you keep an agenda so that your day is organized.

He will designate a spot in the HoL’s garden so you can plant herbs. You are still a practicing pharmacist, so you will do herbal remedies for the brothers. It’s not only cheaper than going to a doctor, but it’s also just easier.

You are also very polite, but lack emotion. It makes sense, since you are undead and therefore only follow orders like a mindless servant for their master, but you are your own master. Shouldn’t that allow you to show feelings? Well, besides annoyance since you pointed out that Mammon had a very punchable face.

Mammon

Big brother Mammon didn’t know you were a zombie until you told him. Honestly, he is kind of offended that you didn’t tell him, but you explained that you had never put it down in your notebook on orders you needed to give yourself to do that day… or any day.

He would help you gather the herbs you needed if someone within your friend group was sick. It was a surprisingly peaceful activity for him. Also, he’s happy that it’s easier and cheaper than going to a doctor since you were a pharmacist.

He once tried to give you an order to see if it would work, but instead of laughing you got a tad annoyed. You explained that since you freed yourself from the amber, you were your own master and therefore only followed your own orders. 

Leviathan

You remind him of the zombie from ‘My brother/sister was taken away by a god and now I need to travel around to try and get strong enough to get them back!’ You even give yourself orders in the same way that the character from the game does!

He doesn’t really have a green thumb, so growing the herbs is all on you. He wishes that he was more interested in that type of stuff, but he will order seeds that you need online if you want. It’s the thought that counts, right?

He finds it unsettling that you show little to no emotion. Sure, you were the walking dead, but you could at least smile to make it less awkward. The one time he did see you get annoyed was when Mammon came asking him for money and you blatantly stated that the second eldest brother had a ‘punchable face’. It had Levi rolling and laughing on the floor.

Satan

He also knew you were a zombie because he actually bothered to read the student profiles of the exchange students. It was fascinating how you operated by giving yourself orders based on the schedule you set up for your day.

He would also help with taking care of and harvesting the herbs that you needed to practice your pharmaceutical practices. You remind him a lot of Solomon in that aspect, and he is intrigued with the subtle differences. 

He would prefer to not show emotion as well, but since he is the Avatar of Wrath it’s nearly impossible for him to do that. He lets out an audible laugh whenever you get annoyed since it’s usually Mammon who started something. You even said that he had a very punchable face, and Satan agrees.

Asmodeus

He had no suspicion whatsoever since you looked alive. When you did order yourself to tell him that you were a zombie, he was so surprised. He thought you were a human, a sorcerer like Solomon was. Ain’t no freaking way. Then he realized that you had to order yourself to do things and the pieces pieced themselves together.

He would go to you for dermatological problems since you are well-versed in that field. He would help you with whatever you needed as long as it would help his beauty (also, as long as it didn’t get his hands dirty).

He’s slightly concerned when you don’t show any sort of emotion towards any of the things he’s excited about. I mean, whatever it is is a cause of joy! However, he burst out in laughter when you got annoyed at Mammon and said that he had a punchable face.

Beelzebub

He also didn’t really suspect anything about you. He just thought that ordering yourself around was either determination to get tasks done or to remind you of what you were doing, which is generally understandable. When you did tell him, he was shocked.

As much as I love him, please don’t ask him to gather herbs with you. He will most definitely eat them, even if you warn him that they aren’t edible. It’s even worse if it is a rare herb since it looks very appetizing to him.

He doesn’t really mind if you don’t show emotions. He’s typically very neutral as well, so he can’t say much against it. He will say that everyone (besides Mammon) erupted into laughter when you said that the second eldest was annoying and had a face you wanted to meet with your fist.

Belphegor

He was definitely suspicious of you. He hasn’t read your student file (mainly because he was locked in the attic), but he knew that you weren’t human. At least not completely human. No one went around giving them orders like a master does to a servant. When you did tell him, he mentally slapped himself for being so dumb

He wouldn’t be excited to go collect herbs unless it’s to make a potion that will allow him to sleep better. If that’s the case, then he will gladly go foraging for whatever you need. Anything for a better night’s sleep (I felt that).

He’s mostly just annoyed at all of his brothers, so he feels you when he hears you say that Mammon has a punchable face. He, too, thinks that his older brother has a face that needs a good punch, but he didn’t expect you to say it out loud.

[beckettj]

Rum and Wagers

Roses are red Violets are blue Rum is much cheaper Than dinner for two Especially when your best friend co-owns a bar and gives it you for nothing. Single on Valentine’s Day, Emma goes to bartender and best friend, Killian, for alcohol and advice on how not to be single for next Valentine’s Day.

3050 words of Valentine's Day fluff.

Read on Ao3

“I hate Valentine’s Day! It’s nothing but a huge corporate scam!”

Emma huffed as she reached the bar. She grabbed the cheap, cardboard, heart-shaped beer mats and flung them across the room onto a vacant table, as far away from her as she could possibly get them. She dropped onto a barstool, rested her elbow on the bar and leaned her face against her fist.

Killian stood behind the bar, tea towel in hand, drying off recently washed glasses. He raised an eyebrow, watching her in amusement, and failed to hold back a chuckle.

“You were all over Valentine’s Day last year,” he recalled. “In fact, I distinctly remember being the one to watch over your lad whilst you want off to some swanky five-star hotel with the twat-that-shall-not-be-named.”

“Because you were and still are depressingly single and now I’m in the same damn boat,” Emma groaned. “I can’t believe I’m single on Valentine’s Day.”

“Well, you know what they say, love. Roses are red, violets are blue-”

“Oh, no.”

“Rum is much cheaper than dinner for two,” he finished with a grin, brandishing a brand-new, untouched bottle of rum from beneath the bar. “Especially when your best friend co-owns a bar and gives it you for nothing.”

He retrieved two rum glasses and set them on the bar, promptly uncapping the bottle and pouring the liquid into both glasses. Emma chuckles as he went overboard on the measures. He always knew when she was looking to get drunk.

He set the bottle down and reached out for one of the glasses.

She looked at him curiously, “Drinking on the job?”

He lifted his glass and gestured around the empty bar with it, “I realise you’re caught up in your moping, Swan, but it’s utterly dead in here. The Rabbit Hole isn’t exactly the hotspot for a romantic Valentine’s Day date.”

Emma sighed as she picked up her glass, “Are you saying we’re the only two single people in Storybrooke?”

“Well, the only two sociable single people at any least,” Killian remarked. “So, cheers to that.”

They clinked their glasses together then simultaneously necked the entirety of their contents, placing the empty glasses back down on the bar with a light, synchronised thud.

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better, Neal is just as single as you are,” Killian pointed out.

“So much for not naming him,” Emma muttered. “And I don’t know about that. I’ve heard the rumours about him cosying up to Tamara.”

“Ah, you’ve caught that then?”

Killian picked up the rum bottle again, pouring out more alcohol.

“I mean, it’s fast, right? What’s it been, a month? Is it even a month? That doesn’t add up, does it?” Emma questioned.

Killian opted not to answer, instead taking one good, long swig of his rum.

“This is the part where you tell me he wouldn’t have cheated on me,” Emma prompted.

“I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you that, Swan,” Killian replied. “Unfortunately, I believe the prick is more than capable of disrespecting you like that.”

Emma happily took the second drink waiting for her.

“You deserve better than Cassidy, love,” Killian told her. “I hope you realise that.”

“And you tried to tell me that all along,” Emma spoke with a long, regretful sigh. “Why the hell didn’t I listen to you?”

“I’m both your bartender and your best friend,” Killian pointed out. “I exist to listen to all your problems and give you astonishingly good advice that you’ll inevitably ignore.”

“Maybe it’s time we change that,” Emma proposed. “So how do I avoid being single by next Valentine’s Day?”

Killian paused, brow furrowing as he considered, and then shook his head, “Maybe it’s best we don’t mess with the trusted, old-age system of you electing to ignore my advice?”

“Oh, come on! Don’t hold out on me now! Not when I’m finally ready to listen to you,” she encouraged.

She finished her drink and promptly took matters into her own hands, leaning over the bar to pick up the bottle of rum and pour out her latest drink.

He hastily grabbed the bottle out of her hands, stopping her from pouring any further. The contents of her glass threatened to spill over the brim, forcing her to lean forwards and sip some from it before she was able to lift it without spilling any. Killian placed the bottle to the back of the bar, out of her reach but still well within his.

His own glass would need topping up soon enough.

“You do realise, Swan, that you’re asking dating advice from a guy who is, and I’ll quote, ‘pathetically unacquainted with the dating world of the twenty-first century’?” he challenged, his arms folded across his chest, a bemused smirk meeting his gleaming blue eyes.

Emma took a swig of her drink and frowned, “Someone said that about you? I mean, they’re not exactly wrong; I don’t think you have dated anyone since high school and we graduated in oh-one. Of course, I know you had that weird friends-with-benefits kind of set-up with Tink in college but that hardly counts as dating. Anyway, I digress… who, who said that about you?”

“You did.”

“I did?”

“Aye.”

“When?”

“Last night.”

“Ooohhh,” Emma drew out upon vaguely recalling the conversation. “In my defense, I was very drunk last night.”

“Mmm,” Killian hummed as he finished his drink and began topping it up. “It appears tonight is headed in a similar direction.”

“What else is there to do when you’re single on Valentine’s Day? Which reminds me, you’re holding out on me,” Emma downed a good chunk of her drink and pointed at him with her glass. “This astonishingly good advice you spoke of earlier, put your money where your mouth is and hit me with it.”

“On this, I’m none the wiser, else I wouldn’t be single myself, would I?” he reasoned with her.

He proceeded to take a big gulp of his drink, lowered it from his lips, then promptly decided to take another large swig.

“Well, you’re no help! I’ll have to work it out for myself, won’t I? The way I see it, I’ve got a few options,” Emma mused. “So, single men of Storybrooke… there’s Gold-”

Killian broke into a hard burst of laughter which almost caused him to choke on his drink, “Your ex’s father? You’ve gotta be bloody joking!”

“If you let me finish, I was about to rule him out,” Emma returned. “How desperate do you think I am?”

“Not desperate at all,” Killian responded immediately, “which is exactly why your list of single men in Storybrooke goes as follows; Leroy’s not your type, Sidney’s ruled out after you punched him in the jaw, Whale’s… well, Whale, Graham – if I recall correctly – was a fling way back when and nothing else, and August was friend-zoned after the first drink, the poor sod.”

“And your list of single women in Storybrooke goes; Belle who punched you in the jaw-”

“That was a huge misunderstanding, and you know it, Swan!”

“Zelena who, well, good luck to you if you go down that road, and Lily who can’t hold a serious relationship to save her life,” Emma recounted. “So, what are we to do, Killian? We can’t be doomed to be single forever.”

He hastily downed the contents of his glass and poured himself a healthy refill, even topping her glass up despite it not even being half-empty. He took another big gulp of his rum then set it down. He scratched the back of his neck, and his jaw twitched as he finally looked her way again.

She stared at him expectantly and, when he remained silent, prompted, “What?”

“What?” he returned.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

He downed his refill of rum then dared to innocently question, “What?”

“You’ve just shipped a boat load of liquid courage,” she pointed out, “and you’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look? I don’t have a look.”

“You do have a look! Your eyes are all narrowed, you’re frowning, your jaw keeps twitching and you’re scratching your neck like a cat with fleas,” she challenged him. “That’s your ‘I’ve got something to say but it’ll make things worse’ look.”

Killian gave up on the glasses, gulping down the rum straight from the bottle. He set the near-empty bottle on top of the bar. Between them, they’d made light work of its contents.

He eventually spoke, “In all our discussions about your options in the last month, there’s one eligible guy in Storybrooke that you’ve yet to consider.”

“Really?” Emma sounded unconvinced. “It’s a small town. Single guys around here are hard to come by. I thought we had them all covered. Sidney, Leroy, Whale, Graham, August… who am I missing?”

The dregs at the bottom of the rum bottle were coaxed down Killian’s throat.

“Me.”

The empty bottle hit the bar with a resounding thud.

Emma laughed.

“I’m entirely serious, Swan.”

Emma composed herself, lifted her head up and everything had changed. She saw Killian in a whole new light, not as her best friend or her bartender but as a man who had always looked at her as if she were his whole world; the very man who she had called – day and night – whenever she and Neal had argued, the man who would drop everything to be by her side, the man who had always known whether she needed alcohol, an ear to talk off, a shoulder to cry on, or a punching bag, and provided it without ever being asked.

The words started to pour out of Killian’s mouth, “I can’t keep pretending that there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you, that you don’t brighten my day every time you walk into this mere tavern. I can’t keep pretending like it didn’t crush my heart to see you with Neal, that I didn’t feel a glimpse of hope every time you two argued, that it didn’t kill me every time you decided to reconcile with that prat.”

“Killian.”

“The bloody fool doesn’t even realise what he’s given up,” Killian continued. “You’re amazing; you’re smart and you’re strong and so breathtakingly beautiful. You’re a shining light in a dark world-”

“Killian.”

“-like a lighthouse guiding me safely home to shore. And I could have stood here and given you the advice you were looking for, told you to give online dating a go, but I couldn’t run the risk of standing here, forced to watch once more as an unworthy man treats you like dirt on the bottom of his shoe when you deserve to be treated like a princess-”

“Killian.”

“-and whilst I treasure our friendship deeply – it’s that which has kept me holding my tongue so bloody long – I know grander treasure lies beneath the surface of what we share already, if only we’re both willing to fight for it. Because I would, Emma, I would fight for-”

“Killian!” Emma snapped, finally succeeding in cutting him off.

Or, at the very least, she had thrown him from his rambling thoughts for he gulped at her pointed tone and promptly backtracked, “I’m sorry, Emma, forget I said anything. I – rum! The bloody thing is like a tru-”

“Fucking hell, Jones, kiss me already!”

He didn’t need telling twice; he leapt impressively over the bar and before Emma could even marvel at that feat, his lips crashed against hers and her thoughts melted away; the rest of the world and her worries with them. His warm, gentle hands rushed all over her body, desperately exploring, as her hands gripped tightly to his hair, keeping him close, entangling her fingers in his dark locks. The rum on his breath harmonised with hers and her heart leapt in her chest, the little hairs on the back of her neck standing on end, for they clung to each other – lips, hands, fingers, legs – as if fighting for their lives. Her mind was convinced she’d been reborn, experiencing her first kiss all over again for the kiss is unparalleled to anything she’d ever experienced before, as if she’d been doing it wrong.

She chased after his lips when he moved back, initiating a series of small, yearning, fast kisses – his lips remaining attentive, coming and going like waves against a ship – neither wanting the moment to end, both gasping for oxygen and made breathless by the desperate passion of the initial kiss. She couldn’t let him go, clutching onto his neck for dear life. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, claiming him as hers, and chuckled teasingly against his lips.

“I want you,” she murmured, her lips dancing and brushing against his as she did so.

His voice was steeped in desire, low and impossibly enticing, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words.”

She smiled against his lips, “Good things come to those who wait.”

“I’m done waiting.”

“Good.”

Despite his words, he pulled his head back and she leaned after him.

“Wait,” he spoke gravely.

“You’re a fucking tease, Jones,” she complained.

“I don’t want a one-time fling.”

“I don’t want a one-time fling,” she returned.

“I’m done with flings.”

“I never started.”

“Uhh…”

“Other than Graham.”

“I want this, beyond tonight.”

“Me too.”

“Good.”

He took a few steps forward and she clung to him in the way a crying child clings to its mother, fully prepared to delve into a tantrum should someone so wickedly take him from her. He placed her down gently, perched on the edge of the pool table. He was too far away, half a step away, and she pulled him in by his jacket, smothering herself in him.

He kissed her again and showed off, proving men can be capable of multi-tasking by ripping her shirt from her body simultaneously, the buttons bouncing and rolling along the floor, forgotten instantly. He pulled back from her, and she reached out urgently for him, too far away, as he hastily removed his shirt from his body.

He pounced on her before his shirt could hit the floor, his presence guiding her down onto the pool table, sending the neatly arranged balls spawling across the table. He craved her as much as she craved him, more so perhaps. Where the fog of Neal and past lovers had finally lifted, allowing Emma to see him clearly for the first time, Killian had been biding his time, awaiting the very moment for most of his life. Her enticing figure had featured in many a dream since their high school days and he wasn’t fully convinced he wasn’t dreaming. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d been duped by such cruel, lifelike dreams, fast asleep on the bar, empty bottles of merchandise surrounding him. If it were a dream, he hoped no one woke him; if it truly were a bloody miracle, he aimed to impress.

He danced a series of kisses down her neck, burrowing his nose against her skin, soaking in the sweet, combined scent of rum, cinnamon, and the raspberry air freshener she insisted on keeping in her old car. His onslaught of kisses continued lower, against her shoulder, down her collarbone and to the top of her chest. His tongue was keen to join the party, gliding over the top of her right breast as his fingers worked at the clasp of the bra strap on her back, her own hands working at his belt, the brushing of her arm against his crotch only fuelling his longing for her.

“Bloody hell.”

A new voice broke their moment.

They froze. Emma’s bra dropped. Killian’s belt released, his pants dropping to unveil white boxers beneath; ones which left very little to Emma’s imagination.

Or Liam and Elsa’s.

The couple stood at the bar, staring in shock at the sight before them. Killian raced to hitch his pants up and chucked his previously abandoned shirt at Emma, aiding her urgent attempt to cover up.

“Now I’m glad the pair of you have gotten your shit together and stopped staring longingly at each other’s backs but for fuck’s sake, Killian, not on my bloody pool table!” Liam sounded simultaneously pleased and irate.

“Amazing timing as always, Liam,” Killian muttered and helped Emma from the pool table. “Come on, love, I have a private room above.”

Killian got Emma as far as the bottom of the stairs before Liam called out after them, “Oh, do me a favour and don’t go public with this ‘til March or else I’ll have to fork over a hundred dollars to Will; sneaky bastard claimed February right from under me!”

“You and Will wagered on this?” Killian remarked in surprise, all the while pulling Emma further up the stairs.

“Mate, the whole bloody town is in on this thing,” Liam returned. “In fact, it’s her best mate, Mary Margaret, who’ll be quids in should you hold off ‘til Match.”

“She could do with the money,” Emma mused as they reached the top of the stairs. “For the wedding.”

“And I could do with you, in my bed, right now,” Killian growled out impatiently.

“Your wish is my command.”

It was a wish she not only granted that night, but regularly in the nights which followed until his bed became their bed and by the next Valentine’s Day neither one of them was desperately single, instead madly in love, celebrating not only Valentine’s Day but the anniversary of the day they became more than friends. As far as the whole town were aware, it was nothing more than Valentine’s Day for March the third had been the day Will had ‘walked in’ on their ‘first kiss’ and promptly cursed them out for not ‘seeing the bloody obvious’ three days earlier.

Mary Margaret gained an extra one-thousand-one-hundred dollars to put towards her fairytale wedding.

Emma and Killian never got an explanation for why twelve people were so willing to place a hundred dollars on a bet involving the two of them; they did both agree never to speak of the tampered wager but conceded that a bottle of rum could well uncover the truth hidden between them…

----

Tag List (taken from the CSMM list - let me know if you want adding/taking off).

@teamhook @laianely @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @myfearless-love

[putschki1969]

Hi, thanks for answering, I decided to order a Wakana disc and a Keiko disc. But I'm a little sad because I won't receive my package, customs is charging me a lot to deliver it and I can't pay that amount and if I don't pay in 20 days they auction it off. I had asked for it as a birthday present for myself, the main objective of supporting them was fulfilled anyway. It should be noted that it was my friend The person who made the order was not well informed and ordered the things through Fedex and everyone who buys from CD Japan tells me that they shouldn't have ordered it through there. In short, now I'm afraid to order something again and not The person who made the order was not well informed and ordered things through Fedex and everyone who buys from CD Japan tells me that they shouldn't have ordered it through there. In short, now I'm afraid to order something again and not receive it 😢Sorry for answering here, but the answers don't let me say much. By the way, drink a lot of water because of the heat.

Oh no!! 🫂 That sounds like such a horrible experience. I'm sorry you encountered these problems while making your very first order. Is there really no one who can help you pay that amount? I know those charges can be criminally high and it's painful to even think about spending that much money (often more than the actual price of the product) but it would be a real shame for those CDs to be lost forever.

I can totally understand why you are now afraid to order anything else. Even after being a fan for so many years, I still hate how difficult and expensive it often is for overseas fans to buy anything from Japan. There have been some improvements in the last decade but it still is a hassle and I don't even wanna think about the many times my anxious little self had to argue with some rude person from the customs office.

With CDJapan, I can recommend Air Mail as the best shipping method. It takes quite long but it's considerably cheaper than EMS, FedEx or DHL. I don't know the customs and import tax rates of your country but they usually like to include the shipping costs as part of the value (which is used as basis to determine the charged tax) so the cheaper the shipping, the lower your customs/tax fees. On a related note, it is better to order smaller/fewer items to reduce the overall value of goods. These days, I mostly order on Japanese websites using a proxy service called Tenso. They allow me to adjust the price of the items which makes it possible to keep the goods value pretty low.

Maybe also try to check if Amazon.co.jp provides international shipping to your country. At least in my case (Austria, Europe), they already include taxes and such in the price I'm paying so the packages don't get held up in customs. This might just apply to EU states though so please keep that in mind (for me, CDJapan works the same as Amazon.co.jp when it comes to taxes).

Please don't let this experience discourage you. It can sometimes be a lot of trial and error when you first start ordering from Japan (especially if you are not familiar with the different shipping options and your country's import procedures). Definitely take a break for a while and try to do some research to be better prepared for future attempts. Then maybe, you can try again in a few months.

In the meantime, check if their solo stuff is available in your local iTunes or Google Play store. If you don't feel comfortable ordering physical goods, you can still support them by purchasing the digital music. It's not much but at least it's something.

Thank you, I'm trying to stay hydrated as best as possible. Hopefully the hot and humid days will be over soon.

[roleplayolyhedrons]

Where Do I Start?

Hint: It's not with D&D's 5th Edition.

If you’re looking to break into tabletop roleplaying games, you might be feeling like you’re trying to drink water from a firehose, or worse.

My recommendation?

Stay the f*ck away from Dungeons & Dragons, at least the three-volume set spanning over 1,000 pages. Instead, try something lighter.

Not convinced? I don’t blame ya.

Why lighter? you might be asking.

Lighter rulesets allow us to get our bearings, understand some fundamental concepts, and avoid being excluded long before we try to enter the hobby.

Still not convinced?

Think about it this way: When you were a kid, did you just jump on your bike, start peddling, and go a few dozen miles on

Think about it this way, too: You’ve probably played chess, poker, or any number of games. That’s great! You’ve probably played computer roleplaying games. That’s also great.

However, these aren’t the same as playing face-to-face, virtually, or otherwise, a game where you take on a single persona, sometimes more and sometimes other unusual things, interact with other players and their personas and deal with the conflicts and obstacles thrown at you by a referee, game master, or Dungeon Master.

In some roleplaying games, you might play as the player characters (PCs) and the referee. In any case, your imagination, and your ability to think through, play, and experiment is key. Some of these you’ve honed in other games. On the tabletop, you’ll bring them to bear.

These are different in that tabletop roleplaying games require players to go beyond simply clicking the right place, punching in the right combos, or laying down cards in a particular order. You need to think short- and long-term. Death is (mostly) permanent in many roleplaying games—no reloading saves to avoid death (although that should be a mechanic somewhere). You, as a player, need to rely on social skills, such as communication, playing nice, and collaboration with others. You’ll also need to think in terms of mechanics—how does this impact my play in-game, how can I use this to my advantage, etc.? You must manage resources, roleplay, problem-solve, and think creatively and critically to keep adventuring.

Roleplaying games can be easy, and they can be difficult to tackle. The best advice I can give, as an on-again, off-again player is this: Be prepared to fail, die, and have challenges. Also: Be active, negotiate, and make it an enjoyable experience for everyone by being there in the moment.

Where would I start now that roleplaying games have a bit more limelight?

I’d look for the freebies or the under $5/$10 (or whatever is cheaper in your local currency) games. The best places to start are the online quad: Itch.io¸ DriveThruRPG, Indie Press Revolution, and Exalted Funeral.

You also have Amazon and Lulu with some great indie games on those marketplaces, and you can never go wrong seeking out a local or regional game shop. With the COVID era behind us, some of these game shops have opted to sell online and deliver as well (keep an eye out for these shops).

Skim whatever you find, and then start playing with whoever is willing to go along for the ride—there are more out there these days than when I started, and it’s a great aspect of the hobby.

Need some suggestions? Here are a few to get you started (and, no, they aren’t D&D’s 5th edition):

Lasers & Feelings– Loads of people have hacked this game. The original rules are on it (click on the title for the direct link). Great for Star Trek-style games, space opera, and more. Easy to learn and play. Also: Easy to hack for homebrew games and long-term campaigns.

Breathless (Games) – The vast majority of the games built using the Breathless system are inexpensive, lightweight, super hackable, and friendly for beginners (click on the title for the whole catalog).

Cairn– For that classic D&D experience without the rules bloat.

Sherwood– A mixture of medieval fantasy, Robin Hood mythology, and arcane secrets unleashed.

Notorious — A fun science fiction game, with a recent expansion, that has you playing the notorious bounty hunters in a space opera universe similar to Star Wars.

Mothership – Uses a classic d100/particle die system. It’s a great intro to sci-fi OSR games that are easy to learn, play, and hack to meet any group or player's needs.

Ronin – An excellent solo roleplaying game.

Black Hack (Games) – Classic game hack of the original-ish Dungeons & Dragons, which includes sci-fi, fantasy, cyberpunk, and modern hacks of the original rules from The Black Hack (1st and 2nd editions).

P.S. All links above are not affiliate links. Happy exploring!

[thealogie]

so here's a little rant & i wanna gauge your opinion on the matter. i just finished watching civil war (it's finally available digitally) and... it doesn't look like ass. not that i expected it to but you know how everything looks overly HD right now and it's just awful? well it wasn't like that. and that got me wondering what's really happening with camera/lenses quality right now because i was beginning to think the move to everything looking overly crisp and awful was kinda forced by the way they make camera equipment/technology now, but there are many things that still look fine, not 80s-mid00s amazing, still a bit too HD for my taste, but fine. meanwhile there are things like good omens that look so bad it's legitimately triggering some kind of ocd for me and physically hurts my soul. like apart from lighting/director decisions it's just so damn sharp, it makes MS and DT look grotesque (even though they are objectively good looking, or at least on the nice side of normal looking, guys). do you have an opinion / some technical knowledge on the matter? why is this happening?????? if select movies can still get their cinematography looking nice then what's the deal with all these other productions being offensively ugly looking? i don't get itttttt. like obviously one assumption would be budget differences but you'd think then they would get older equipment that's not ultra HD shit. or is ultra HD shit cheaper. help me out here because i honestly can't watch most things made post-covid they are so terrible looking. iwtv is another example of something that looks too HD to me btw, just so you don't think my issue is like with bad direction (but rather image quality? idk how to put into words my hate of ultra HD in technical terms)

I had the same reaction when I watched challengers yesterday!

It’s film v. digital. I haven’t watched civil war but even to be untrained eye I could guess that challengers was shot on 35mm film, not digital. That’s why it has that beautiful warm grainy quality. I would say 95% of movies and tv shows are now shot digitally - it is much cheaper overall. No risk of the film being damaged or worrying about the literal cost of physical film you’re burning through. and in digital you can choose a lot of your setting when you’re shooting.

Now within digital, you have 2k and 4k (ultra high def) as you call it. And this is where we reach the limits of my technical knowledge because like…better call saul was mastered in 4k and it still looks fucking fantastic!! This is why I will still blame light design/directing because we have proof that 4k can look good. It’s just the way everyone else is color correcting/lighting the scenes that’s the problem

[goldlightwriting]

I know I'm in the minority, but I am honestly, truly glad that they retconned the Brackern being the source of Hextech. Even before Arcane, I was never a fan of that plotpoint. I talked about it a bit in Skarner video essay, but my feelings on the matter have only strengthened.

To simplify my thoughts: I just don't see what everyone else does in the old Skarner lore. I never found it particularly 'deep' or 'tragic.' I can tell there was an ATTEMPT to make it so, but I feel like the attempt falls flat for a variety of reasons.

Like, the core of Skarner's prior story was KIND of an environmental message; people using up a rare and limited resource to power their city, with the added tragedy of that resource being alive and sapient. Humans continued to exploit the Brackern regardless though, because most people just couldn't understand that Hexcrystals were alive and the few who did were just cruel bastards that didn't care.

There was supposed to be this whole dilemma of "could the people really give up on using Hexcrystals if they found out they were effectively torturing living people by using them, even if that threatened to compromise their way of life?" And honestly, I don't think that's much of a dilemma.

Like, if Skarner and/or Seraphine ever managed to get the word out and reveal the truth about Hexcrystals to a massive audience, I genuinely think that would be the end of Hextech... Except not really because the lore established that synthetic Hexcrystals are a thing so there's already an easy solution the issue regardless. They're more fragile and not as long-lasting, but if you can create cheaper copies that AREN'T alive to power your machines anyway then Piltover could still probably function with relatively the same degree of efficiency, especially if research was done to improve on the synthetic copies.

Also, we have to take into account that this is Runeterra: a world with like a billion different forms of magic. Piltover is NOT the only or first nation to use magic technology. Shurima, Icathia AND Ixtal all figured out how to make machines powered by the arcane, and one could even argue that Demacia has something like that going with its petricite golems. Hell, Zaun even has chemtech, which has its own share of problems, but still!

My point is that the brackern crystals were never the only viable source of power for Hextech in Runeterra. There are SEVERAL alternatives that could be reached if people actually took the time to look, and the only reason that no one does is because, again, most Piltovans just don't see a reason to.

New Skarner's lore has issues. I'm not entirely sure I like the idea of making him a full-on villain and it's a little unclear exactly what/where the Brackern are now, but I at least think this version of the character offers a bit more genuine nuance than the Brackern Crystal plotline ever did.

[erikahammerschmidt]

So here's a my hot take about "social anxiety," and "being afraid to ask others for help."

After years and years of personal growth, I still get people treating my "aversion to asking for things" as some internal problem with my brain.

But let me tell you one thing.

You might be able to conquer any nagging sense that you "don't deserve" help from others. Then you might go on to vanquish any exaggerated idea of how much harm or trouble or inconvenience your request would cause someone else. And after that, you could totally wipe out any excess of anxiety about how angry someone else might be at you for asking.

But all this WILL NOT CHANGE the fact that:

Other people have lives of their own

Your requests usually are not (and should not be!) another person's first priority

People cannot be expected to have perfect memories and keep your request in their minds all the time

And therefore, if you have any ability to do a thing for yourself-- even something far outside both your skillset and your responsibilities-- even if it's very difficult to do on your own-- it's still very often MUCH EASIER than trying to get another person to do it for you.

Example:

I mention a project I want to do. I think I can do it with just a saw and hammer and nails that I already have. But my roommate, who has more woodworking equipment and more experience than me, says he'll help.

I say thanks, and ask him when. He says "well, I can't today, maybe Saturday?" So I wait til Saturday. At which point he's forgotten and planned something else, so he can't that day. Is Wednesday afternoon okay?

Sure (I put notes all over the apartment to make sure he doesn't forget this time). And he doesn't forget-- but he has to cancel anyway because the dog unexpectedly has to go to the vet that day. We reschedule for Friday. We get started on the project… at which point he suddenly concludes that we actually need a part that we don't have right now, and he'll have to buy it. That'll take a few days at least, so we have to reschedule again.

And now his schedule's busier than he thought, and he doesn't know when's the next time he'll be available. He says he'll let me know when. But weeks and weeks go by, and he doesn't. If I remind him, either he'll reassure me that he promised to tell me if he has any free time, and he's still gonna let me know when, I just have to be patient… OR he'll apologize for forgetting, and reassure me that he'll remember to tell me NEXT time he has a free afternoon.

Maybe a couple times he does message me, with less than an hour to spare, to give me a heads up that he's free now. But of course, on such short notice, I myself can't always arrange to be free-- and if he does this enough times and gets a "no" from me each time, he'll start feeling it's no longer worth trying and he'll stop.

At this point, my entire self wishes that I'd just done the project on my own, with my own inferior skills and whatever equipment I could scrounge up myself. It wouldn't be as good, maybe. But even if I had to try a few times to make it passably okay, then at least I would have learned something-- and in any case, it would be DONE now. I wouldn't be sitting here waiting, dependent on someone who does not have my project anywhere NEAR the top of his priorities.

Same goes for asking for something back that someone's borrowed from me. (Assuming my time is worth minimum wage, it's usually cheaper just to buy a new one.)

Same goes for asking my boss for an accommodation that would really help but I can sorta get by without. (I've seen coworkers having to remind management repeatedly about accommodations they get. It's almost a whole second job.)

Same goes for the colored pencils I just ordered while staying at my mom's house, upon which she reminded me that I really should have asked her first, because there are "tons" of art supplies in the house already. (Sure-- but how soon can you be available to look for them? And once looking, how quickly could you find them? And if they aren't quite what I was looking for, but you "feel certain" that the thing I was looking for "is also around here somewhere," then how many days should I give you to remember where it is? And how many times during those days should I check in with you, just to see if you actually still remember my request and are actually still trying to find it?)

In my experience, more often than not, asking another person for something (no matter how well-meaning they are) will put them in a position of oblivious, incompetently wielded power over me, long before they even begin to grant my request.

And in my experience, more often than not, that is a fate to be avoided if at all possible-- by any means-- up to and including doing things for myself that I "shouldn't have to do."

And no amount of therapy and self-help on my own brain is gonna change that.