#so I really don't care if something will let them make it for five cents if they're gonna charge me $20

[medicinemane]

Was listening to Louis Rossmann talk at one point about this car that wouldn't let you use 3rd party headlights, and how other cars have had the fucking car brick from using 3rd party headlights (imagine your car dying badly from you installing a headlight)

And he talked about how engineers will be like "yes, but it's so much cheaper when you make a custom assembly because of x y z"

Coming around to why I'm writing all this, he pointed out that sure that might be true... but absolutely never is that savings passed on to the customer

I kinda don't care if something saves a company money, doesn't save me any

Like maybe slashing regulations is great cause it makes it cheaper to run the company (nevermind the risks it clearly lets happen) but uh... I don't really care, cause it's not like the price of the product goes down, they just pocket the money they've saved

Just kinda doesn't benefit me cause they lower the price

[sweaterkittensahoy]

https://www.tumblr.com/hogans-heroes/746522350970929152

this is a great prompt

Okay, so this is more headcanon than prompt fill, but I think y'all know at this point it's kind of 50/50 how my brain handles all the great ideas you send me.

So, let's talk about this: Let's talk about Bucky, who just LIKES to do things for people. He always has something kind to say (we see that when talking to Harry and Bubbles). He's always ready to pat someone on the back or pay a compliment.

It takes Buck a LONG TIME to figure out that Bucky's different with him, partly because he's not used to anyone caring for him in small ways. His dad definitely fucking didn't, I don't think. I just don't think Buck would be trying so hard NOT to turn into his dad if his dad had some good qualities to hold onto.

Anyway.

It takes him a long time. Because, like, Bucky's always got change on him to pass to some new kid on base who doesn't have the money to call home. He's got stamps and extra paper and oh, hey, he's going to the mailbox, don't worry, you can just get him back next time he needs a stamp.

So, when Bucky starts sewing Buck's buttons, Buck doesn't think anything of it. And when Bucky shines his boots now and again, well, Bucky was already doing his and Buck wanted to get that extra run in, so no big deal.

And Bucky was already getting new boot laces, and he knew Buck always liked having an extra pair just in case (Buck grew up with a lot of knotted together, worn laces, and the Army is the first time he has easy access to spares). And here's a cup of coffee because I swung by the mess, and it's about time for your mid-day cup, right?

Oh, Buck, when I was in town today, I stopped by the hardware store, and they had a sale on those square pencils you like, so here's a couple. Nah, don't worry. It's five cents. No big deal.

And the other thing is, Bucky does bigger things for other people. He gets Curt's entire uniform washed and pressed overnight when Curt trips while drunk and lands in a puddle. He hurries in the shower so there's a tiny bit more hot water for the guy behind him who's shivering because he's never experienced Northern cold before. He keeps extra jugs of water in his fort so none of his boys have to worry they'll use their whole ration on a hot day.

So, it's a long time before Buck realizes that Bucky does a whole lot of small things for him because he wants to do them FOR HIM.

"You can't just keep doing this," Buck says when he realizes. "I don't need...all these things."

"Buck, for fuck's sake, I'd hem your fucking pants if it wouldn't make you itch at not being useful. Let me buy you a couple of pencils. And a coke. Let me make your bed sometimes."

"That was you???"

Anyway, Bucky doesn't stop but he also never does anything LARGE for Buck because he knew from the word go Buck wouldn't be able to handle that, but he keeps doing the little things. The tiny things. The things that really take no effort from Buck except a few minutes, a few seconds, a few pennies. And Buck realizes THAT, too. That Bucky is making sure to keep it small and simple because he knows Buck that well.

And, well, that's when that smile Buck gets around Bucky, the indulgent, fond, adoring smile really starts to come out.

[eternal--returned]

IGGY POP: Once I heard the Paul Butterfield Blues Band and John Lee Hooker and Muddy Waters, and even Chuck Berry playing his own tune, I couldn't go back and listen to the British Invasion, you know, a band like the Kinks. I'm sorry, the Kinks are great, but when you're a young guy and you're trying to find out where your balls are, you go, "Those guys sound like pussies!" I had tried to go to college, but I couldn't do it. I had met Paul Butterfield's guitarist, Mike Bloomfield, who said, "If you really want to play, you've got to go to Chicago." So I went to Chicago with nineteen cents. I got a ride with some girls that worked at Discount Records. They dumped me off at a guy named Bob Koester's house. Bob was white and ran the Jazz Record Mart there. I crashed with him and then I went out to Sam's neighborhood. I really was the only white guy there. It was scary, but it was also a travel adventure—all these little record stores, and Mojos hanging, and people wearing colorful clothes. I went to Sam's place and his wife was very surprised that I was looking for him. She said, "Well, he's not here, but would you like some fried chicken?" So I hooked up with Sam Lay. He was playing with Jimmy Cotton and I'd go see them play and learned what I could. And very occasionally, I would get to sit in, I'd get a cheap gig for five or ten bucks. I played for Johnny Young once—he was hired to play for a white church group, and I could play cheap, so he let me play. It was a thrill, you know? It was a thrill to be really close to some of those guys—they all had an attitude, like jive motherfuckers, you know? What I noticed about these black guys was that their music was like honey off their fingers. Real childlike and charming in its simplicity. It was just a very natural mode of expression and lifestyle. They were drunk all the time and it was all sexy-sexy and dudey-dudey, and it was just a bunch of guys that didn't want to work and who played good. I realized that these guys were way over my head, and that what they were doing was so natural to them that it was ridiculous for me to make a studious copy of it, which is what most white blues bands did. Then one night, I smoked a joint. I'd always wanted to take drugs, but I'd never been able to because the only drug I knew about was marijuana and I was a really bad asthmatic. Before that, I wasn't interested in drugs, or getting drunk, either. just wanted to play and get something going, that was all I cared about. But this girl, Vivian, who had given me the ride to Chicago, left me with a little grass. So one night I went down by the sewage treatment plant by the Loop, where the river is entirely industrialized. It's all concrete banks and effluvia by the Marina Towers. So I smoked this joint and then it hit me. I thought, What you gotta do is play your own simple blues. I could describe my experience based on the way those guys are describing theirs . . . So that's what I did. I appropriated a lot of their vocal forms, and also their turns of phrase—either heard or misheard or twisted from blues songs. So "I Wanna Be Your Dog" is probably my mishearing of "Baby Please Don't Go."

Legs McNeil & Gillian McCain ֍ Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk (1996)

The Stooges ֍ I Wanna Be Your Dog (1969)

Muddy Waters ֍ Baby Please Don't Go (1953)

[crmsnmth-journal]

3/29/2024

11:02 PM

I decided I need to get out of my slump I've been in lately. I may feel angry and depressed and very apathetic right now, but that doesn't mean I should sit and wallow in my own self-pity. It's not a good place to go, and I know that. I know better than doing what I have been, which is absolutely nothing. So today, I woke up, and had one cup of coffee (I've decided I'm going to attempt and cut my caffeine intact way way down). Talked with mom for a while, which is odd but was nice. Usually, we don't talk more than five minutes at a time. It almost always turns into a fight between the two of us, but right now, out of the three of us (my two younger brothers), somehow the felon with a really bad attitude is being the most responsible. I mean, it only took me 35 years to get here, but I'm actually doing pretty good, and I need to remind myself of that. I have come so far from where I was, even four years ago. Hell, even last year. And it's not arrogant to remind yourself of that every so often.

Anyway, I showered and finally bleached half my head. I took extra care in washing and cleaning and just making myself look like a person again. I think I read somewhere that that's supposed to help. I don't know if it actually does, but it kept me occupied for a while.

I got to work at 2, which is usual for Friday's. It gives me about an hour of alone time where I can just belt along to my music and get the prep for the night down. Honestly, being alone back there is my favorite part of part of my job. The closest I've ever come to a religious experience was back there. It was right when I got work release during my time in jail. I had sat six months already, and for the last three months I was allowed to have work release. And the first night I came back, I was alone for three hours before open. I listened to music for the first time in six months, and I cried like a baby and screamed along to Amigo The Devil's Stronger Than Dead while dicing tomatoes. It's an experience I will never forget. That song holds such a deep importance in my life (it's part of my next round of tattoos, my only hand tattoo is going to be Amigo's 'pineapple' logo with the chorus of that song). Only two songs I've ever heard can I say truly saved my life. Stronger than Dead and Frank Turner's The Ballad of Me And My Friends. Different reasons, but the end result was the same for both and I didn't listen to the impulses and bury a bullet in my brain. And I still listen to both songs, religiously. At least once or twice a day.

Sorry. I keep getting off track. Sherry came in around 3 and started putting together the salad bar. That's her one thing she has to set up for Fridays and she never complains about it. I always tell her I do nothing with the salad bar, that it's all on her. It used to be just a trick I learned a long time ago on how to deal with less then stellar staff. Give them something that is all their own. It give them a feeling of control, and let's face it, I hate putting our salad bar together. I don't like salad bars in general. They are extremely gross on the kitchen's side of things.

It wasn't exactly busy tonight, but it wasn't exactly slow. Just kind of real steady, plodding forward pace. And Sherry did alright, by her standards. We shut down, and when I left after doing all my closing work, Sherry only had to finish up her dishes. Usually she just leaves the extra for tomorrow, when she opens.

I did start getting a pretty massive headache around 7 though. I'm pretty sure that's just the withdrawal from caffeine. At least that's what it felt like. I'd get them a lot in jail when we'd run out of coffee. It's all we drank all day, that instant add hot water crap, and when we'd run out before commissary made it's way, everyone was in hell. Ibuprofen costs 75 cents for two pills. The price mark up is insane, which I really don't think is all that fair. I get having some cost added, this is jail after all and it's not supposed to be fun. But when a package of Ramen ends up costing close to two dollars, that is a little passed a punishment. That's an outrageous kind of extortion.

Back to what I was saying, I got out of work around 9:30 and got my cab ride home. When I got home, I had yet another actual conversation with my mom, finally got some Advil in me and showered. The bathroom still smelled like the bleach I did my hair with. And finally, I took my handful of pills and turned on Malcolm In The Middle. I've only got a few episodes to go before I move on to whatever the next mindless background noise I put on. I'll write and work with phrases for a little bit and read. I restarted reading my favorite book, The Great And Secret Show by Clive Barker.

For being as bitchy and moody as I have been the last few days, I think I did okay today.

[oblivious-troll-main]

Shit vent under cut (trigger warnings in the tags)

One thing I hate doing is revealing any illnesses I have (Especially mental ones because shit gets romanticized and if one more person tells me one of my illnesses is like a superpower I'm going to kill myself) but for this it's important to note I'm depressed, I'm on meds, and have been in and out of wards for this since I was 15

I'm not safe right now, I'm home alone and on the cusp of a breakdown and I know venting to someone can help so I'm doing it here hoping it will help.

I'm not asking for help because asking for money makes me feel like shit and that's the last thing I need.

I have 39 cents to my name, because of certain disabilities I have no job and no skills that would lead to anyone wanting to employ, my dogs are sick, and I can't afford to take them to the vet.

My animals are the only reason I live, but I feel I'm going to have to forfeit my babies. They're not doing good, and I don't know what else to do. They're both adopted from shelters, I've had Jake for almost five and Nazbo for almost four. Jake's a lab/bully mix, and Nazbo is a lab mix (we don't know what with). They're my world along with my twelve year old cat, Jasper who is thankfully in great health rn

I feel sick everytime I look at my babies, I know the right thing is to forfeit them, to give them to someone who can afford to get them care, but the idea of never seeing them again kills me.

I would rather die then see them not thrive, and it's a possibility that I will once they're gone. It's just something I know I have to do.

I just want to say, if I ever stop posting randomly, I really do love all the mutuals I made on here and the people I've spoken to. Hell, talking to some of you is probably another reason I'm still around now.

I'm unstable, any day could be my last, it's been that way for years.

But I'm going through some tough shit rn, hard decision, money issues, family problems. That light at the end of the tunnel is getting dimmer and I'm not sure I'll ever reach it. Twenty one isn't too bad an age, I never thought I'd see eighteen.

Hope this post didn't ruin anyone's day, I'm just trying to survive the night right now.

I'm sorry for all the things and projects I said I'd do/wanted to do over on oblivious-troll, starting projects used to be a way I'd force myself to stop considering suicide so much, the pressure not to let others down and to not be a liar used to be enough but lately it hasn't been. It's all just been too much.

Again, I'm sorry, I just had to get this out there

[andtheliike]

The Like for Teen People (September 16, 2005)

The Like: It's like Feminine Rock

Get to know three ladies who rock and get some advice on boys, parents and feeling the blues

By Aaron Parsley

Sep 16, 2005 12:00AM EDT

Based on their antique-y, feminine style, you may not guess that Charlotte, Z, and Tennessee are in a band, but it all makes sense when you hear the sophisticated and timeless rock n roll on their debut album Are You Thinking What I'm Thinking.

"I only shop on eBay." says Z Berg, the lead vocalist and guitar player. So that's where they get their "lacey, Victorian," "so Sienna Boho," and "Moddv. MoPunk" attire.

Charlotte Froom, who shops everywhere, plays bass. She and Tennessee Thomas, who pounds the drums in the video for their first single "What I Say And What I Mean" wearing a maroon corduroy jumper over a lace top, met when they were five years old. Tennessee lived in Great Britain and Charlotte lived in NoCal, but they kept in touch until they both ended up in Los Angeles. That's where they met Z, "through a complex web of mutual friends" after sending out word that they were searching for a voice and guitar player for their chick-rock band. 

But before they recorded and went on tour with their good friends Maroon 5 and later with Tori Amos, the girls had a spot of trouble coming up with a clever name for their band. We'll let them explain how they ended up with The Like:

[sadly the video is no longer available]

And did they mention they carry their own amps? Having The Like in our offices was the perfect chance to get some answers for TEEN PEOPLE readers. We decided to pull a few questions from the TEEN PEOPLE boards to find out what The Like have to say about life. 

TP BOARDS: My friend has drinking problem and every time she leaves home alone she drinks. I'm scared for her cuz I really don't want her to hurt herself. Any advice on making her understand how bad this is?

Z: That's a hard question. I think the most important thing is to talk to her personally and make sure she understands. 

Charlotte: Don’t go to her parents first because you should only do that when you've talked to her a bunch of times. 

Tennessee: Or you'll only loose your friend. 

TP BOARDS: Does anyone else think that 50 Cent sucks? He's stupid and his rap talks about naaaasty things... and he once said he wants to be a good 'role model'... yeah right!

Charlotte: He's a rap artist. Are they really supposed to be role models for children? I don't feel like that's really his job. 

Tennessee: The thing is... he's beating the odds. And if he's beating the odds then he's doing something right. 

TP BOARDS: I'm really into my boyfriend, and he wants to have sex but I'm still a virgin and he's not! What should I do?

Z: If you really like this guy, just be as honest as possible and just say, "I like you, but I've never done this before and if you care about me, you'll be OK to wait." 

Charlotte: If he won't wait, then you probably shouldn't loose your virginity to him. 

TP BOARDS: I've recently been having trouble with everything. I take things too personal and I just don't know how to 'brush my shoulder off.' I've have become very depressed and haven't had much peace at mind. HELP ME PLEASE!

Tennessee: My advice is to get really into something and it will open up a whole world. Like with us, I didn't have that many friends in high school and then we figured out what we like doing and somehow this happened and now we have a band. 

Z: If it's getting to the point where you're really just feeling down about everything, try to find someone to talk to. Talk to you parents if you can or a guidance counselor at school, which really isn't that bad, or if you have a friend who you know will understand. 

Charlotte: There are teen lines too. I know a bunch of people who do it. They volunteer. You call up if you're upset and they give you advice. And it's free. 

TP BOARDS: When my mom was little she never went over guys houses! I don't know why but she didn't. Now she wont let me go to guys houses even if me and the guy are just friends! Any suggestions on how to get her to trust me?

Z: Parents have a hard time with their little babies growing up and that's how all parents are. The concept of you going to boys houses means boys, which means sex, which means No, baby girl grows up! 

Charlotte: Can't you have him come over and have him meet your mom? 

Tennessee: Well, her parents are probably really embarrassing if they're saying this. They'll come out and be like, "What are you doing here. No boys allowed!" 

Charlotte: Okay, just lie!

[berrieluv]

Usually, Stiles is a loving and caring boyfriend, when he has nothing in his mind you're his first priority. Recently, more than usually, he has been having too much in his mind.

Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader.

This is really, really short because I just wanted to add in something an scene inspired on 50 Cent's TikTok Audio. Let's pretend there's good Universities at Beacon Hills and the pack didn't have to leave and they're still together, thank you.

That Old Jeep.

Stiles was supposed to pick you up from work, as he usually does when he's free and as he does all the time when you're working 'till late.

It was pass 11:00 O'clock when you made it out of your shift. As usual, you walk a few steps to wait for Stiles at the end of the street, so he doesn't have to turn and do the whole round to get out again, you both agreed it was easy to have you walking a few, also, the spot were you would wait for him was crowded with the other people waiting for the bus.

A few minutes later, the first two busses arrived, and around seven people left with them, fortunately there were still five people and you waiting.

Stiles wasn't a punctual person. He usually arrives five minutes late, ten when it was a special occasion and he had too much to do, but he always made sure to make it up to you for the wait.

But sure Stiles never, ever, was thirty minutes late. There wasn't a single person left on the bus stop anymore and it was starting to get cold. The business around started to turn off their lights by 12:00 o'clock, but luckily you, you still have the people who worked very late at the restaurants.

A few minutes after, you were alone again. And you blamed Stiles, and yourself too for believing he will be on time when the last week he has done nothing but let you down. You get up and start to do what you feel you should've done the first thirty minutes he didn't arrive. You start to make your way home, walking in the dark and lonely streets praying some crazy man wouldn't jump on you and try to steal your things, or worst, some fucking werewolf would try to bit you and now you will be cursed, having to need your best friend full time and he wouldn't have time to attend his girlfriend because he'll be too fucking busy helping you.

"Fuck!"

You yell at your thoughts. Of course you were happy Scott and Stiles had each other. It was a very beautiful friendship and you know you would love to have one like theirs, but you were reaching your limits. The fact that Stiles, knowing how dangerous it's out there, would leave you to walk home alone at late night hours was making you angrier.

You froze when you feel a car following you, you try not to show it and your legs start to walk faster only to see Stiles in his Jeep next to you a few seconds later.

"Hey, beautiful. I'm sorry I was late. Scott and I were a little busy" He stops the car a few meters ahead you and he gets out to wait for you and walk you to the passenger seat, but when you walk pass him his face is now showing confusion. "Hey, gorgeous, what's wrong? Please get in the jeep, you can't be walking alone this late at night"

"Go to hell"

"Ok, I know I deserve that. Please, get in the jeep, we'll fix this on there, right?"

You turn to look at him and he smiles when you do, thinking he'll be having you back and his plans would turn like he wanted to.

"Fuck you, Stiles" He frowns "Fuck you and fuck your stupid fucking piece of shit you call jeep"

Stiles looks confused at your choice of words, knowing you were never one to curse that much in just a sentence. He've been knowing you since kindergarten and he doesn't think he ever heard you using that many bad words.

"What would you say fuck my jeep for?"

You let out a frustrated yell and continue walking. Stiles gets on his jeep, ready to star following you, trying to convince you to get in, and if he doesn't, at least you wouldn't be walking alone.

"Hey, princess, please get on the jeep, please? I won't talk if you don't want to just please don't walk all the way. It's dangerous"

"It's exactly the fucking same, Stiles" You yell without slowing your steps "You can't protect me even if you want to. What're you gonna do? You're gonna fight a werewolf if they come for me? Mh? You're gonna do that?" By the last sentence, you stopped your walking, facing Stiles in his jeep, both of you looking at each other "You can't fucking protect me, not me, not you, not your fucking jeep and I don't care how much you help and protect Scott and the pack, you can't do that for me and you do nothing to prove me wrong"

"Y/N..."

"No, Stiles! Stop fucking following me! I'm not getting in that stupid jeep, not alone, not with you, not under any circumstance because it's the fucking same weather I'm alone or I'm with you because either way you're not there!"

"Ok, ok, cool, cool, cool, fine. Baby, please get in the jeep. We'll talk about this, right? Get in and we'll fix this"

"I don't want to fix anything with you"

Stiles saws you walking away and he starts to drive his jeep to you too.

"Y/N, baby, I know you don't mean that. What you're saying it's hurting me"

"And dating you it's hurting me too so either way you stop fucking following me or I'll go to the sheriff station to accuse you of stalking"

You hear Stiles jeep slowing down and you walk faster, only to jump scare when he takes you into his arms and starts to walk to the jeep.

"Just get on the fucking Jeep"

"Put me down, Stiles!"

"No, I know I did wrong, I'm so sorry, but you get in the fucking jeep, we get home, we talk about it, I do that think you like with my tongue and I tell Scott I can't be going with him tomorrow because I have to make it up to my beautiful girl"

"You can't possible stay at home for a day"

"You can't possible stand me for a day but we'll see who wins"

[malevolentbooks]

24: Vicissitudes

Fate liked to think they enjoyed a good joke as much as anyone. It wasn't true, but Fate worried more about the future than reflecting about the past anyway.

Thus when Discord came to them with an idea, presented as a joke, they decided to entertain her and see what she had in mind.

"What if, as a joke, you left somebody unmoored? Just...gave them no fate at all? Leave them totally open to the vicissitudes!" Discord asked.

"Who?" Fate responded, puzzled.

"It doesn't matter. It could be anyone. Some random person. We can let Chaos pick somebody." Discord said, excitedly.

"I spend much of my life fighting to correct for your sister's influence, and you wish to give her this choice?" Fate responded with some disdain.

"Okay, look, we'll do it this way. Have her pick somebody, and we'll let it be the next person that she talks to. How does that sound?" Chaos asked, by way of compromise.

Fate nodded slowly. "Fine, but I reserve the right to end this if it gets out of hand."

"Great!" Discord chirped. I'll call her right now.

The resulting call was longer and more stressful than expected, as Chaos kept wandering off the point, and also suspected that Discord was trying to cause trouble. Fate suspected that nobody really got along with Discord, and was beginning to regret this bargain.

Eventually however, the lucky party was selected in the form of Isaac Cantor, who ran a small Jewish deli at the corner of Fifth and Vine Streets in West Haven, Connecticut. He happened, right at that moment to be selling a roast beef sandwich to Chaos' favorite person.

Isaac didn't notice anything strange at the time, and in fact his entire day went on as usual. Until he closed and began counting the till, which came to just under a million dollars.

Since, on a good day, the deli cleared a thousand, Isaac was certain that he must have made a mistake.

Counting again, he again found that he had just under a million in the till, though he was off by thirty-five cents from his first count, and had to do it a third time to make sure it was balanced.

This left him in something of a quandary, since he normally took the proceeds home with him and deposited it at the bank on his way to work the next morning. But today's till was currently filling six shoe boxes and an old flour storage bin, and was less portable than the normal roll of bills.

Instead, Isaac pulled the usual deposit from the total and put it in his pocket. He then put the rest of the money in the broom closet, and locked the door.

Stepping out into the late evening, before he could lock the door he was approached by a local stray cat that he sometimes fed scraps. He didn't much like cats, but God's creatures and all, he stepped back inside to get a few trimmings and tossed them to the cat before locking the door.

The cat wolfed down the meat, and then sat down and gazed at Isaac for a moment.

"Isaac, I know we're not friends or anything," the cat said out loud "but you've been good to me so I'll do you a good turn."

Isaac was sure that somebody was putting him on, but the voice was quite clearly coming from the cat.

"I..." Isaac stammered out.

"We don't normally get involved in human affairs, but you've got some stuff going on and you should probably be careful." the cat said, before pausing to lick his paw.

"Careful about...what?" Isaac responded at last.

"Everything, really. I'd just try to avoid making any big decisions for...well, the rest of your life." the cat responded, making as much of a shrug as his shoulders would allow.

"I see. That could be difficult." Isaac said, still convinced somebody was putting him on.

"Oh, you have no idea. Anyway, take care." the cat said, turning and vanishing into the darkness.

Isaac locked the door and turned to walk home, suddenly very worried about his life.

[applejongho]

cherry on top | choi jongho

genre: fluff, realistic fiction, humor

character: starbucks employee!jongho

description: Jongho has an interesting run-in with a Karen during his shift at Starbucks.

word count: 2k

warnings: mild swearing

author’s note: jongho as a coffee barista was swimming in my mind for quite some time, so here he is. 

masterlist here!

There was something about that coffee stain on Jongho's employee shirt that made it impossible to get rid of. It was likely the mix of the ingredients that had stacked the receipt when it was printed, but Jongho couldn't help but feel she had somehow planned this as he scrubbed harder with bleach.

Jongho wouldn't have guessed the day to turn out as it did, but maybe he should have. Working with the public was always a gamble, but Jongho's optimism blinded him. Most customers were nice enough. Most customers gave a smile when he handed them their overpriced coffee. There weren't too many comments about his red and black hair, and he could shrug off all of them. The compliments were what he remembered.

The day started off normally - with Jongho's coworkers nudging him towards the mound of bagged coffee beans. "I could do it myself, but you just do it quicker, you know?" One of his coworkers had whined, twirling a piece of curly hair around her finger. "It" was picking up the bags of coffee beans to put into the grinder, and Jongho didn't mind it.  As he slung a bag over his shoulder with ease and glanced at her, he could swear her face flushed. Perhaps it was just the sun. The sun hit her face like that when he broke apples in half with his bare hands too. It was strange how the universe liked her like that.

After his bean tasks, Jongho took to the drive-thru of the coffee shop. He was told he had a nice voice, but he doubted he sounded that heavenly through a cheap speaker that hadn't been changed for five years. Nonetheless, Jongho enjoyed doing the drive-thru and taking orders. When there were multiple drive-thru lanes open, he would challenge his coworkers to see who could get through orders the fastest. This caused him and his coworkers to resent vans - vans almost always meant there was a large order - a sure loss, unless Jongho's fingers could learn to dance very quickly on the ordering screen.

Taking orders via the drive thru took up his morning, and then he was released for his lunch break. His coworkers had become accustomed to bringing him apples for the sole purpose of him to break them. He didn't mind, and it allowed him to be more comfortable with his coworkers because he could sometimes be shy. "Is that why part of your hair is red?" A coworker had asked him one day after he had broken multiple apples in a row. Jongho shook his head.

"No. Just red," he shrugged, ignoring his coworker's eyebrow raise. "I just like the color red." He thought he looked good with it.

But not everyone agreed - there were some customers that liked to point it out, like he had never seen himself in a reflection before. "You missed the roots," an older woman had told him at the register and gestured to his hair. Jongho added fifty cents to her order.

But for this day in particular, his hair was the reason for his downfall. For the latter half of the day, Jongho would be at the register. He yearned to be in the bar making drinks because it could become so mindless at points, but he was placed in front of the register before he could say anything. He assumed it was because he was the longest working employee out of the staff today, and Jongho vaguely remembered a newbie was working with him. He guessed the manager didn't want them at the register. The register wasn't much different than the drive thru, but there was something about actually seeing the customer or touching their cash or credit card that made it not enjoyable for Jongho.

About an hour into working at the register, Karen walked in. Jongho saw her and his stomach dropped. She looked exactly like a Karen should look: bobbed blonde hair with caramel highlights that were too dark, opaque and round sunglasses, an obnoxiously pink phone case, and a tacky red American flag shirt that said something about how America was blessed. Jongho knew he shouldn't judge people so quickly, but he had dealt with this breed of women before. He had to brace himself for the worst and the unexpected.

"Hello, ma'am," he said cheerfully when Karen got to the front of the line. Her dark sunglasses obscured her eyes, but she was clearly paying attention to her phone instead of him. She suddenly realized she was in Starbucks and lifted up her glasses. She took one look at Jongho's name tag.

"Hello, John," she said, and Jongho had to bite his tongue to keep from making a noise.

"Jongho," he said.

"John," she continued, and listed off her order, Jongho begrudgingly typing it in as she spoke. It's not that hard of a name, he thought to himself as he kept typing. Why was Karen's order so long? Jongho kept translating her vegan, dairy-free, blood-of-firstborn, extra-expresso venti iced coffee into the system until she stopped talking, and even then she wasn't done.

"So is everyone your age just dying their hair like that?" Karen said without prologue. "I'd never let my kid dye their hair like that. It's so unprofessional."

"Thank you," Jongho said, dodging the question and not wanting to provoke her. He hoped his cheeks weren't also red. "Here's your total. Cash or credit?"

Karen pulled out her purse, but not without clicking her tongue in annoyance. "You all really should lower the prices. It's too damn expensive."

Then make your own, Jongho wanted to reply, but he held his tongue. "I wish I could," he said with a smile. Karen frowned in return, and, without warning, dumped her entire coin bag onto the counter. Jongho yelped and scrambled to keep flying pennies and quarters from rolling off of the counter. In the corner of his eye, a coworker ogled Karen.

"I used the bills to buy my groceries, so I'll pay in coins," Karen yawned while Jongho threw himself onto the floor to make sure no coins had reached there. He got up, plastering on a fake smile. He hadn't had a customer like this in a long time, but if he could just get through her, everything would be okay. He reached for her quarters first and began counting dollars. He knew for a fact that his manager wouldn't have tolerated this kind of behavior from a customer, but Jongho knew he could be too soft at times. Besides, her jangling keys on her wrist glimmered and showed off their sharpness. He swore he saw her teeth glimmer as well.

"Hurry up," Karen said after a few seconds. "Count faster."

Jongho considered shoving pennies into her eyes. "Certainly," he said, and tried to pick up his pace. He could feel her eyes burning on his neck as he shoved the change into the cash register. He pushed her receipt over to her and eagerly began with the customer behind her, glad to be ridden of her.

But his escape was short lived. He heard a whine from the corner of the store and knew it was the Karen immediately. He was currently helping out a different customer, but there was no one else in line behind them. He'd deal with it after the customer if things escalated with Karen.

"Are you sure you made this correctly?" Karen snarled at Jongho's coworker, her nostrils flailing. The coworker looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. "This doesn't taste like how it usually does. Make it again."

Jongho wouldn't have done anything - customers asked for drinks to be remade frequently. But this was Karen, and upon further inspection, this was the new employee that his manager had talked about. He couldn't leave her hanging, it would be rude as an older and more experienced employee. Jongho finished ringing up the final customer and went over to Karen and the other coworker.

"Cherry head," Karen growled, and Jongho only raised his eyebrows. That was a new one.

"I'll make a new one, ma'am, sorry," he said, taking the drink from her. "I'm sure you were fine," he muttered to the worried coworker and was pleased to see her smile.

Iced coffee wasn't difficult, and with the lack of new customers Jongho took the time to make sure the drink was entirely accurate. It's not that she deserved a drink, it's that he wanted her out of the store as soon as possible. He even had the temperature right, and gave it a perfect dairy-free whipped cream swirl at the top before handing it back to her.

Karen ogled the drink for a moment, looking back and forth at the cup and Jongho. Then she threw the drink at him.

The whipped cream top hit Jongho square in the face and he could taste it. Then came the slow and cold trickle of the coffee down his apron and shirt underneath, and at that moment, he was so glad she hadn't ordered anything hot.

"I said I didn't want whipped cream!" Karen bellowed, but Jongho's choir practice had made him desensitized to loud vocals. He wiped the whipped cream from his face and looked at Karen straight in the eyes.

"Get out," he said coldly. "There's a Dunkin across the parking lot. They can have your coins." He paused for a moment, and then his mouth twitched upward. "My name is John, you can write me up if you want. I don't care."

"I will be," Karen growled, red-faced and clutching her purse at her side like Jongho was going to reach out and nab it. he couldn't believe Karen thought that she was the victim here when Jongho had a new fluffy white beard adorning his face.

"John's right," a third coworker said, coming from behind. He could vaguely hear his laugh under his voice. "We don't tolerate harassment on our employees. You're the one that could end up in trouble."

Karen stared daggers at this new employee, and Jongho was surprised she didn't jump over the counter to tackle him. "Good riddance, I knew Starbucks was going downhill anyway." She gave one last snarl at Jongho, who fluffed up his hair at her glance, before walking out of the Starbucks.

The three employees were silent, and then Jongho felt a towel touch his arm. "Oh my God, Jongho, I'm sorry," the third coworker said.

"I don't think I've ever been drenched quite as much as I am now," he said, accepting the towel. He began to dry himself off as best he could, but he knew his face and clothes were going to be sticky for the remainder of the shift.

"I think there's another apron in the back," the new coworker said, and then scurried off to get it before Jongho could say anything.

"I'm just glad it wasn't her that got absolutely wrecked by coffee," the other coworker murmured. "I think she might have cried."

Jongho nodded, still drying himself off. It was a terrible feeling, the coffee all over his skin and clothes, but now that she was gone, he couldn't help but smile. It was comical, how insane the public could be. "I hope John gets hell for what he did," he smiled.

"Absolutely," the coworker agreed, laughing. The new coworker arrived back with the apron, which Jongho gratefully took.

"Give me a minute to clean up," he told the both of them before going to the back to inspect the wreckage on his clothes and face. It could have been better, but it also could have been worse. He licked a part of the whipped cream that was near his lips and grimaced at the flavor. Despite it all, Jongho was amused at the situation. It kept him on his toes. It would be a funny story to share at a party. Jongho wrote a note in his phone to re-dye his red tips when he got home. Then, smiling, he returned to work.

[solesurvivorpaigeargot]

HOLY HELLO Sketchy friends, followers, and fans! It's that time again, time for...

SHIPPY SATURDAY!

The heck is happening here? Here's an FAQ~ Wanna support the event? Here's my Ko-fi!

That's right, it's FINALLY the last Saturday of the month... and I've decided it's high time our Quotable prompt evolved into a Dialog prompt! This is gonna work a lot like previous Quote prompts, but with an extra twist, so please make sure you read the guidelines for a valid request before sending in!

ONWARDS!

To make a VALID Shippy Saturday request, please send me the following in an ASK to my ASKBOX:

The COUPLE you'd like me to sketch up ---- OC? Heck yes! Canon? Hell yeah! All characters welcome, so long as they're from Fallout ---- OC x OC? Cool! Canon x Canon? SWEET! OC x Canon? DAMN RIGHT.

The NUMBER of the dialog snippet you'd like me to art them saying ---- Got more than one favorite? You may list up to THREE in your ask, in order of preference, to help the artist avoid repeats <3 ---- Still can't pick? Send in 'Dealer's Choice!' and the artist will pick one for you.... oooor possibly make up some fresh dialog on the spot ;3

What KIND OF RELATIONSHIP your couple has with each other ---- Romantic? Platonic? Professional? Familial? Rivals? Neighbors? Despite it's name, Shippy Saturday is about all kinds of human connections, not just the romantic ones! ---- Is your couple part of a larger OT3 or poly group? Tell me who else is part of the relationship; they probably won't get arted, but they might add their two cents to the scene from off-frame XD

IF YOU'RE SENDING IN AN OC!! ---- Send your request ask FIRST, without reference information ---- THEN send your OC's reference information to me via my Tumblr IM ---- Don't have any reference pictures, but you can type of a written description? Great! I love working from written descriptions! :D [ No, really, I do. Give them to me :D ]

After that, you can leave all the rest to me! :D [ I.e Please do not request poses or specific actions ]

Hokay? HOKAY! With all of that out of the way, let's get onto the dialog snippets! These are taken from various things I enjoy, as well as some of my own work. These quotes have been modified to gender neutral pronouns, to remove most proper nouns, and for brevity.

[ Some of these quotes have multiple speakers! That will be shown like this! "Speaker A" -- "Speaker B" ]

"Yeah, well, I'm a victim of circumstance" -- "... I thought you called it your pecker."

"Here, you look cold."

"You are so lucky I love you." -- "Damn right."

"You know the routine." -- "Yeah! WE do all the work, YOU get all the credit!"

"I want you with me, but... I'm scared." -- "Trust me. Trust me to take care of myself." -- "I trust you, it's the rest of the world I'm terrified of!"

"No breakfast?" -- "I did it yesterday-- bologna and beans, it's your turn." -- "No... It was eggs. I did eggs... over easy." -- "The hell you did! Bologna and beans, it's your turn!"

"I like the kind of person who can handle themselves... think on their feet."

"So you were ahead of me." -- "I don't know about ahead, but I've been behind you ever since you fried those mannequins."

"Don't make me say it out loud..." -- "... I can say it first, if that'll help."

"Nooooooope... five more minutes." -- "We were together all night." -- "Didn't count... I was sleepin'."

"Well, this is very serious" -- "IT IS!" -- "You, you destroyed a door." -- "Colonel, we're talking about a test on an armored vehicle, that will carry people into combat." -- "Right, but this door is property of--" -- "The shell barely penetrated the door." -- "okay, but now it's all bent out of shape. How are you gonna get it back on its hinges?" -- "I'LL BUY THE ARMY A NEW GODDAMN DOOR!"

"Sorry, I thought... I thought you were trying to buy something I'm not selling."

"I'm busy." -- "Too busy to look up?"

"You can't kill people just because you don't agree with them." -- "You see, that was the ONE point me and the doctors could never agree upon."

"Would you ever consider having a drink with an enlisted solider?" -- "Depends... does the enlisted soldier think I need one?" -- "What are they gonna do? Kick you out?"

"Thanks" -- "No problem, anytime."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up-- one day it's gonna happen to you. Someday someone is gonna ask you, who is it? And a face is gonna jump to the front of your mind, and it's gonna completely sandbag you... I can't wait to watch!"

[to a peacefully sleeping person ] -- "Good moring, Mx. ___, this is your wake-up call. Please move your ass."

"I say we run for it" -- "Running isn't a plan, runnin's what you do when a plan fails!"

"... Normal Illinois, is that on the map?" -- "Yes, Sergeant, it is." -- "... is it normal in Normal?" -- "... Uneventful, I think, is the word."

"Now-- how many brahmin does it take to make a stampede? Is it like... three or more? Is there a minimum speed?" -- "Wish a stampede up your ass."

"I don't mind being a secret of yours."

[Right after THE BIG FUCKING KISS] ".... let's not make it a year before the next one, okay?"

"If we were serious about money, we'd quit being hired hands--" -- "Handymen! We are han-dee-men." -- "Oh whatever! We'd quit this and go find some real money."

"Please... don't go where I can't follow."

"Alone is fine! I can do alone, it's worrying after them that's got me all wound up!" -- "Have you considered that's because alone is NOT FINE and you don't wanna do it anymore?" -- "---!!"

"This is not the first time you've been here." -- "We've been down this road before, that is correct." -- "Several times, in fact." -- "I hadn't been keeping count."

"And you must be ___, I've heard all about you." -- "I deny everything."

"First time I saw you? I thought to myself, that's the kind of person BRICK WALLS jump outta the way of." -- "Figured you'd be safer behind me rather than in front of me?" -- "Damn right."

"Just keep looking at that beautiful sky; that's the sky that'll be over our roof when we're done." -- "What if we don't finish the roof? Then we can look at the sky all the time."

"Yeah, well... maybe a friend is what I need right now."

"Next thing you know the Feds will be at our door; Sorry, time to move out, Eminent Domain." -- "Down honey, down."

"Even a heat-seeking missile can miss a target." -- "... you taped so many hot-plates to the test target you could fry an egg at 20 feet, and it STILL missed by a mile."

"My dear, my darling, love of my life...." -- "What do you want?"

"What I mean to say is... you make here a better place to be. For me. Easier. Does that make sense?"

"Calm down, you make it sound like a war." -- "What do you people have against being prepared?!"

"This is not just a report, it's a deadly weapon." -- "Sir, an M-16 is a deadly weapon. A report is just a pile of paper, unless you plan to inflict a lot of extremely vicious paper cuts."

"Stupid son of a bitch, knocked himself out cold..." -- "Cold my ass, he's dead."

"Y'know, in baseball, a guy who hits .400 is consider pretty damn great." -- "In baseball the losing team isn't killed by their opponents."

"Hey... I love you. Did I tell you that today?"

This post is going online at 8 PM, June 24th, 2021, US Pacific time. The askbox will open for requests until 6 PM, June 25th, 2021, US Pacific Time. Get yours in now!

Arting will begin at 9 AM tomorrow morning, see you then! :D

-Loor

[likeastars]

Since we are still not in trending (I am not mad, just disappointed) and tumblr won't let me watch more than 4 the owl house posts (I am not- actually, you know what? I AM MAD) I've decided to give my 2 cents on the most recent episode!

Where to begin?

Can we take 5 minutes to appreciate this series' score? The one when Mittens goes to the rescue in STELLAR.

Now speaking of Mittens, I absolutely loved her this episode! Brave, adorable (the fairy pie 🥺🥺🥺) and extremely badass! I loved that she didn't immediately rebel to her parents, but when she did she was spectacular! When she knew Luz was in danger she went quickly to Willow and Gus, and that shows that she kind of bonded with them going after Luz's shenanigans. She apparently loves to do a very theatrical entrance when she has to save her crush... probably got that from her parents 😒😒

Can we talk about them? I think we should...

I've seen a lot of people discussing about them, especially about Alador. I don't have any kind of knowledge about abusive families, but I don't think we should just forgive him, you know? I don't care if you like him and want to make fanart or fanfiction, I even enjoy those, but I just feel like people are saying "no he's good Odalia did everything!" Like... no? He strikes me as a person who didn't even want kids! He didn't care about Amity's happiness at all, in this episode and in understanding Willow. Maybe he has a bit more of a moral code, but he did and still does abuse Amity. Also, what he said after the whole shitshow during the... show was "Amity is becoming strong" and not "Amity is becoming happier" or something like that. I think that if he was trying to protect Amity with that sentence the show would have been a lot more overt about it.

Then Luz. My one and only love.

SHE BLUSHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED

I HAVE BEEN WAITING THIS MOMENT FOR YEARS.

TRY TO SAY SHE DOESN'T RECIPROCATE AMITY'S FEELINGS ASSHO-

Ahem.

She looked kinda tired? She was really energetic as always, but she had her moments where I was begging Dana to give this poor kid a break...

ALSO SHE WAS VERY TIRED AFTER THE BLIGHT'S EXPOSITION SO AMITY CARRIED HER TO THE OWL HOU-

Ahem.

The only this I didn't really like was the b-plot. Like,, so much important shit happened?@?!? They found a way to mix glyphs?!?@@? And it took what? Five minutes? Also I am a bit disappointed that Luz wasn't the one to discover this, but Lilith is a professional witch that had access to a lot more sources of information. Also,,, Lilith experimenting with glyphs and Eda finally deciding to learn the basics?!??!?! THEY ARE LEARNING FROM EACH OTHER AND GROWING ANFOEOGDKGKFK 😭😭😭😭

Last but not least, let's appreciate Luz's friends being as feral and reckless as her 🥺🥺🥺

The Gus chomp?!?¿ (that holds resemblance to the Luz chop)

Mittens wanting to jump head first to save her gf and punching the guards??!?!?! (We were so wrong, the Amity/Luz's ship dynamic isn't "holder of the braincell/plain reckless", but "plain reckless/holder of the braincell" and we stan)

I just wish Gus and Willow got to be badass with Amity 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Hello there, I don't know if your taking requests, if so I'm in desperate need of some mean Alfie, like the readers brother can't pay Alfie back what he owes so Alfie threatens him. So she storms into Alfie's house to give him a piece of her mind. And he is fuming first and basically tells her to get lost. But has a change of heart last minute and calls her back to make a deal. Maybe that she will go on a date with him😀 id love if you could include the date in the story but if not that's fine to. I think your a fantastic writer and I just wanted to let you know how much I love your work.

//Oh my lord I did NOT mean to get this carried away.

            Jane’s younger brother was a nuisance. At least, that’s what the neighbors said. Jane would call him…troubled. He found himself in a group of unsavory young men who liked to cause trouble in the neighborhood.

            Jane prayed that it was just a phase that he would grow out of. However, he was twenty, and she figured he ought to know better by then. She didn’t blame him for being so rebellious. Their parents had both died from the Spanish Flu. They left behind five children. Alex was the youngest, twelve at the time of their death, Lucille was sixteen, Bernard was twenty, Jane was twenty-two, and Isabella was twenty-four. They all tried their best to be a complete family after the tragedy, but it was so difficult. Especially when Isabella married just six months after, Lucille married two years after, and Bernard left for America four years after.

            From then on, it was just Jane and Alex. She loved her younger brother dearly, but he was such a handful. His behavior escalated from getting in schoolyard fights to committing petty crimes. It was exhausting trying to keep up with him.

            Finally, he made the ultimate mistake and came home with a black eye as a prize.

            “What happened?” Jane gasped when she saw the state of her brother. He was hunched over, clutching his side, his face was swollen and bloodied.

            “M’sorry.” He mumbled.

            “Alex, tell me what happened. Who did this to you?” She demanded.

            “Alfie Solomons, his men did it.” He winced in pain as he tried to sit down on the sofa. “I owe them some money. I can’t pay it though.”

            Jane spent all her time working to provide for herself and her brother. She had no time to gossip or listen to people whisper about the famed gangster of Camden Town. So, she had little clue what sort of power the name held. “This is ending here and now.” She decided firmly. “I will settle this bet with Mr. Solomons if you go out and get a proper job and stay out of all this-this nonsense!” She snapped, finished with Alex’s behavior.

            It seemed that the interaction with the Camden bakers had scared the young man well enough that he was willing to put that way of life behind and start on the straight and narrow. He nodded frantically. “But you can’t go to see him.” He warned. “Give the money to Richard, he’ll get the money to him.”

            Jane wrinkled her nose in disgust at the mention of Alex’s friend. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was the one who lured Alex into a life of crime. “No, I’ll do it myself. I don’t trust him.” She decided with conviction. She began to go upstairs to get her savings that were hidden under the floorboard.

            “No, Jane, listen to me!” Her brother urged. “Alfie Solomons is a fucking psychopath. He kills people for sport. I ain’t gonna let you go near him.”

            “If he’s willing to kill someone over a couple of pounds, then that’s his problem. I’m not afraid of someone who will bully a twenty-year-old. Now go and put a cloth on your face to put down the swelling.” She ordered.            

            Alex looked worried but knew he wasn’t able to talk his sister out of anything. He could only hope that she would find Alfie on a good day.

 ~~~~~~~~~

            Jane marched into Camden Town with fire in her eyes. She had two pounds in her pocket, almost two months of work for her, but her family came first. Alex could work back the debt he owed to her later. She would much rather this be a learning experience for him, something to shake him awake and put him on the right path finally.

            She found the address where Alfie Solomons’ office supposedly was. There, a young man was keeping guard in front of double doors.

            As she approached, he straightened up. “Can I help you?”

            “I’m here to see Mr. Solomons.” She replied.

            “Do you have an appointment?”

            “An appointment? What is he, the bloody king? No, I’m here to pay back my brother’s debt.”

            “Hang on, stay here.” He went into the large building and left Jane waiting. As she waited, she felt people watching her. People passing by seemed to take notice of anyone unfamiliar to the area, especially someone who was lingering around the bakery of Alfie Solomons.

            A few minutes later, the doors opened again and the man beckoned her inside. “You armed?”

            “Armed? No, of course not.”

            “Do you mind if I check?”

            “Yes, I mind, keep your hands to yourself!” She snapped.

            “Yeah, see now I know where your brother has got that attitude from.” A voice boomed across the hallway leading into the bakery.

            Jane looked to see the man himself. Broad-shouldered and walking like a soldier, he came into view in the dimly lit area.

            “Pardon?” She wasn’t used to such a brash greeting.

            “You’re Alex’s sister, ain’t ya? Look a lot alike, you two. Act similarly too. Figures as much. Boy who can’t keep his mouth shut looking up to a woman who can’t keep her mouth shut.” He stopped in front of her.

            At first glance, Jane didn’t see what all the fuss was. He looked and dressed pretty simply, nothing outstanding. But then she started to pick up on the small details that made him who he was. The gold rings, the bracelets, the tattoos, the scars.

            “Here.” She pulled the money out to give to him. She wasn’t going to waste her time on this man.

            He tutted as he took the money from her. Looking at the amount as if she were merely throwing a few coins his way. “Oh, dear, this ain’t enough, love.” He shook his head as if disappointed.

            “That’s what my brother gave you. That’s what he owes you.” She insisted.

            “Something called interest, sweetheart. S’been over two months since I loaned your brother the money. So, his debt has been racking up interest, m’fraid. Nearly double this by now.”

            Jane’s blood boiled at his audacity. “How dare you?” She hissed. “Who are you to act like some big shot who owns the world, aye?”

            “It’s just business, love. If you don’t like it then I’m not sure why you’re even here. This is your brother’s debt, not yours. Shows what sort of man he is, having a woman settle his debts.”

            She was seething at his cool demeanor. “Because I look after my family. We care for each other even when one of our own has made a mistake. It’s a shame you don’t know that Mr. Solomons. That just means you have no love in your life. That’s quite sad actually.”

            His relaxed façade began to melt right in front of her eyes. “Aye? Who the fuck do you think you are that you can come into me business and speak to me like that?” He stepped towards her, his hand gripping a slender wooden cane.

            “You had my brother beaten because of a couple of pounds. It doesn’t look like you even need that money. You seem to be doing fine on your own. Or is that how you make your fortune? By threatening people’s lives so they’ll give you money?”        

            Alfie’s eyes narrowed. “That’s the way the world works. If you don’t like it, you can jog on. Let your brother handle it.”

            “My brother will have no more dealings with you, Mr. Solomons. You can either take the money that I’ve given you or take nothing at all. My family isn’t giving you another cent.”

            Alfie chuckled darkly. “So, you make the rules then, is that right? That’s funny that is. Little girl coming into my bakery to tell me what to do. That’s brave of you, innit?”

            “I don’t hide behind other people. I’m not a coward like you.” She spat. “I don’t care who you are or what you’ve done. You’re going to leave me and my brother alone.” She went to turn around but Alfie’s voice chased her.

            “And would you care if I had your brother shot in the street?”

            Jane spun around with anger radiating off her. “You are a monster.” Her voice raised louder. “If you ever even want to think about hurting my brother, you’ll have to go through me first.” She snarled before finally taking her leave.

            Alfie frowned to himself. What was this feeling? Sympathy? Empathy? Amusement? Here was this beautiful woman who came storming into his life, ready to fight for her brother. She wasn’t afraid of him in the slightest and was true to her values. “Hold it.” He yelled after her.

            She stopped and turned with her arms crossed over her chest. She didn’t say anything, just waited for him to speak.

            “Here.” He walked over to her and handed the money back. “What’s your name?”

            “Jane.” She replied, eyeing the money suspiciously.

            “Well, Jane, you must know that you’re much braver than most men I’ve met. Other people in your position would be shaking in their boots. None of them would talk to me the way that you just did.” He said with a gentler tone.

            She was a bit unnerved by the sudden change in his demeanor. There was no telling what his motive was. “That sounds like a compliment.”

            “It is.”

            “So, because I stood up to you, you’re going to give me back the money?” She raised an eyebrow.

            “Call it an appreciation of your courage.”

            Jane glanced over her shoulder at the door then back to him. “What are you playing at?” She questioned.

            “No game, love. But, figure you see the same type day in and day out, yeah? Men, well can’t really call them men, boys really, who come in and out of your office, whinging on about this and that. Shaking in their boots ‘cause they’re so fucking terrified of mean ‘ol Alfie Solomons.” He pointed to the door. “Then, in comes a woman who is ready to take up arms for her brother against someone like me. Refusing to compromise. Well, something you wish you could see a bit more, innit?”

            Jane felt herself relaxing a bit. Behind the scary façade of a gangster was really an oddly charming man. “Well, I’m sorry to say but there isn’t anyone like me.”

            That got a laugh out of Alfie. “Fucking hell, you really are something else. You’re right though, ‘bout a one in a million I’d guess.”

            She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Okay, well…if you ever see my brother again, tell him to trot on. I don’t want him to go down the same path as…”

            “As me?” He raised an eyebrow.

            “I don’t mean to be rude.” Jane blinked. Why wasn’t she berating this man who had threatened her brother? Why was she staring back at him? Why was the way he was looking at her so endearing?

            “And what am I meant to do if I run into you again?” He inquired as if it was just a casual question.

            “Well…should we run into each other again, I should hope it’s because you’re trying to mend things. A gesture of condolence for your behavior.” She replied steadily although her heart was beating unnaturally fast in her chest.

            The corner of Alfie’s lip turned up. “Well, that’s very good to know. This condolence, would dinner be good ‘nough?”

            Oh, what a hypocrite she was. Admonishing her brother for dealing with lowlifes and now here she was entertaining the idea of going out with one of the most dangerous of them all. But there was something about him that was so alluring. “Perhaps. If you’re on your best behavior.”

            “Well, I happen to think I clean up nicely. I can mingle with the toffs just as well as anyone. ‘Specially if it means making a beautiful woman happy.”

            Jane felt her face go red. Things had taken such a drastic turn, she wondered if she was imagining it all. “Then I suppose it’ll be alright if you take me out.” She gave him a number to call.

            But before she took her leave, she asked one more question. “Is it your charm that gets you out of trouble?”

            He chuckled and shook his head. “Love, I am trouble.”

[xxx-cat-xxx]

I walk this lonely road

Characters: Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers

TW: Self-harm references, Coronavirus (but nobody gets infected), Alcohol

A/N: This fic makes reference to self-harm and to the coronavirus. I know the latter is a really sensitive topic at the moment, so if that’s something that might upset you in any way, please be careful. 

The virus affects almost everyone in the world at the moment at some level and this fic is meant to explore one particular experience among millions. I do not claim that this experience is representative in any way, and I definitely do not claim that it is worse than what others have to deal with. Nat is in a very privileged position, but she is still hurting, and that’s what I wanted to write about.

As always, thanks to @whumphoarder for beta reading.

*

They lock down the tower in the second week of the pandemic. 

Steve, while helping to set up tents next to the already overcrowded Metro General, shared his lunch with another volunteer who tested positive two days later. Since tests are hard to come by and none of them were showing symptoms, the team decided against using their influence to get tested through the backdoor and instead are self-quarantining for at least two weeks. 

Bruce and Tony are elbow-deep in research to find a vaccine and wouldn’t leave the tower if an armed battalion tried to force them out. Clint went back to stay with his family at the farm as soon as the first cases started being detected in New York. Steve is keeping busy by exercising, recording PSAs about everything from handwashing to social distancing, and sending uplifting video messages to infected fans. 

Meanwhile, Nat is slowly coming apart at the seams.

Before the self-enforced quarantine, she was distributing essentials to homeless and low-income families, but now, trapped inside the tower, there isn’t really anything she can do remotely to help the population. 

(Except maybe taking out the president with one of his own killer drones, but that’s not exactly in the realm of legality.)

It’s not that she hasn’t experienced being locked down somewhere for weeks at a time before, but that was on missions, with work to do and a goal to achieve. Right now, she has nowhere to go and nothing to do, and for Nat, that is the worst possible combination. 

The first few days are comparatively easy to bear. She runs the better part of a marathon on the treadmill every morning. Brushes up on her Mandarin. Hacks the Pentagon for the sheer thrill of it. 

Anything to keep her from spiralling too far down. 

Five days in, she wakes up at midnight from a nightmare about the Red Room, feeling like there’s a boulder on her chest weighing her down. She scrambles up to open the window and takes huge, gasping breaths of the cool night air, trying to convince herself that it doesn’t make a difference whether she’s inside or outside the window frame. 

Finally, she slides down onto the carpet and digs her fingernails into her bare shins, heart still beating way too fast and too loud in her ears. Catches herself wishing for a task, an attack, anything she can do, eyes the small imprints of her nails in her legs, a few of them oozing blood. The pain is tempting, much too tempting. She tries not to think of the blades under her mattress, in the cupboard, below the bathroom sink.

She knows it’s not exactly pain she longs for, but it’s a functional substitute for everything else. 

Nat swallows. Then she makes the executive decision that she needs to go for a walk.

*

She wears a mask and gloves when she slips into the darkness. Even with the protective outfit, she keeps away from walls, streetlights, shop windows, anything she could potentially contaminate. 

The night air is just the right kind of chilly to feel alive. The city, devoid of people, cars, and pollution, is a different kind of beautiful. The huddled groups of desperate families in front of the downtown hospital are not. 

Nat finds a children’s playground with monkey bars wedged in between two residential buildings. She does pull-ups until her shoulders are on fire. Then she climbs up and lies on top of the climbing frame, her gaze getting lost where the skyscrapers meet the night sky. 

She only climbs down when she can hear the sirens of an ambulance from a nearby street. Then she wipes the bars clean with the hand sanitizer and paper towel she brought along. When she makes her way back to the tower, it finally feels like she can breathe a little easier. 

*

Tony and Steve are waiting for her when she sneaks back in through the delivery entrance.

Tony looks tired, three-nights-awake-in-the-lab kind of tired, but there’s a manic energy radiating from him that almost seems electric; Nat wouldn’t be surprised to see sparks flying off his fingertips. It’s the kind of energy that keeps him up and running until whatever problem he is working on is completely solved, until the world is saved once more. 

Nat would love to say she feels guilty upon seeing him. But the ugly truth is, all she can feel is envy.

Steve looks… not exactly angry. His face is stony, but something else flickers in his eyes. Nat takes off her gloves, the coat, the mask, and that’s when she realises. He looks disappointed. 

“What were you thinking, Natasha?” he says, his voice low and tight. “You know we’re all under quarantine! What, do you think you’re above this or something?”

“I was wearing a mask—” she begins in a weak attempt to avoid this conversation, but he doesn’t even let her finish.

“You know damn well they’re not a hundred per cent.. You’re just tempting fate for no good reason.”

“I don't—”

“What, you don’t get sick?” he interrupts and maybe it’s a good thing because what she was going to say was something else: I don’t care if I get sick. It’s the truth, but it’s nothing either of them want to hear. 

“It’s not just about you, Nat,” Steve continues, ignorant of her thoughts, his voice rising and a vein starting to swell on his forehead. “What if you infect someone else? For god’s sake, Tony’s only got two thirds of his lung capacity left. Did you think of that before putting him in danger?” 

“Calm down, Cap,” Tony interjects. “I’ve lived through worse—”

“No, I’m not calming down!” Steve snaps. “We are so privileged to be able to live here with all the food and money and medical services we could need―all we have to do is endure a few weeks of boredom, which really shouldn’t be too much to ask in exchange for everyone’s protection. And you decide to throw all of that out the window for a stroll?” 

He stares at her for a moment as if waiting for her to defend herself, but there’s nothing she has to say. What should she tell them? I couldn’t bear the thoughts in my own head? I can’t deal with not knowing when I can be out again? It was either that or sitting on the bathroom floor, cutting lines in my own flesh just to fucking feel in control of something?

“I really expected more of you,” Steve says finally, an eerie calm in his voice. Then he turns on his heels and leaves. 

“Well, that was dramatic.” Tony rubs a tired hand over his eyes before looking at Nat directly, his expression sober. “His mother died of TB, you know?”  

Nat feels numb. “Yeah, I know,” she says quietly.  

Tony’s expression softens. He seems to make a decision. “Come on.” He waves roughly in the direction of the elevator. “I guess we both need a drink.” 

“Okay.” Nat takes a deep breath. “I’ll take the stairs.”

When she enters the living room fifteen minutes later—after showering thoroughly and changing her clothes—she finds drinks on the table and Tony on the sofa, working again. Nat sits down on the armrest of the chair across from him, keeping a safe distance. Jazz music is playing in the background, the fake fireplace is lit, and it all just feels wrong. 

Nat takes her time to fill her glass and slowly drain it. When she looks up, Tony is observing her, his dark eyes unusually warm. 

“I get it, Nat,” he sighs when their eyes meet. “Trust me, I do.” He nods at the tablet sitting in his lap. “Why do you think I keep busy with this all the time?”

She gives a tiny nod of appreciation and hopes he gets that too. Tony smiles at her with a bit of sadness and then turns back to his work. 

Nat goes to the kitchen to refill her glass. When she comes back, Tony is asleep, twisted up on the couch as if he just fell over from exhaustion, tablet still in his hand. She goes back to wash her hands thoroughly, and then, holding her breath, takes the device out of his hand and covers him with a blanket.

She sits there, alone with the scotch bottle, Tony’s snores, and her thoughts, until pink clouds start to creep over the sky. 

At 5:35 on the dot, Steve appears in the doorway, dressed in his workout clothes. He stops just outside of the room and leans against the doorframe, taking in the scene. The look on his face makes it clear that it’s her turn to speak. 

Nat takes a moment to weigh her words. “It’s just… I can’t sit in here not knowing when I’m going to be out. Not again,” she finally admits into the fake fireplace that has now grown cold.

Steve doesn’t reply, but he relaxes just the tiniest bit against the doorframe and something in his expression shifts. 

“Are you up for a sparring session before hitting the treadmill?” he asks.

“You want to work out with me?” Nat doesn’t look him in the eyes. 

“That’s why I’m asking.”

This isn’t an apology—not from either of them. Nat isn’t guilty, just sad. And if Steve was sorry, he would’ve said so straight away. But this is not a concession―it’s a I don’t approve of your actions, but I’ll still be here for you. Just like Tony’s glass of scotch, what it means is: You don’t have to go through this alone. 

“So?” Steve asks. 

Nat pushes herself up from the armchair. The residual alcohol in her bloodstream and the all-too-familiar tiredness make her head swim for a moment, but she’s stable once she gets to her feet. “Fencing. Let’s go.”

____________________________

This is part of the Red in my Ledger series.

All my fics

[lovelylittlegrim]

Oooooh my god can I get uuuuuuhhh "don't let them see you cry" thiam???

Slowly going through all the requests. Sorry this took actual years. 

Pre-relationship. 2K+

There’s a rift after the war; an almost tangible divide between humans and supernatural creatures. Wariness hangs around almost every person like a thick cloud of perfume; it clings to them like a second skin, impossible to shake off and leave behind.

Liam gets it, really, he does. The truth about what’s really out there is a lot to take it and it’s scary. He, himself, was terrified when he first found out. He can make sense of the hunted looks and the hunched shoulders and the dead city as soon as dusk hits. He can understand.

That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

He hates the quiet murmurs about him and his friends, hates the hurried steps to cross the street just so they don’t have to pass too close to him. It hurts to see the terror in the eyes of those he’s known for years.

Still, Liam tries.

He smiles and he holds open doors and he offers to carry bags, and on more than one occasion he’s rescued a cat from a tree. He’s even bought a cup of overly sweetened lemonade from a stand run by children and tipped them a five dollar bill even though the lemonade was only 50 cents.

He’s done everything he can think of to show the people of his town that he’s not a monster. That he’s not something they should be afraid of. That he’s still the same kid he was before he just also happens to have claws and glowing eyes on occasion.

No one seems to care. He’s ‘politely’ turned away from stores, expelled from school, and avoided like the town pariah. Sure, it’s not just him, the others like him are treated the same way, but that doesn’t make things any easier. It doesn’t make Liam any less frustrated… any less upset.

“Damn it,” he curses after yet another failed attempt to prove he’s not whatever they think he is.

He wipes at his eyes angrily, shoes scuffing against the pavement with every step he takes back towards his parked car. He struggles to get his keys from his pocket and unlock the door, but he can’t really see anything through the blurry warmth in his eyes.

Mrs. Hanover had been his babysitter for eleven years and Liam’s neighbor all his life. She’d made cupcakes for Liam’s birthday and baked apple pies for the holidays for him and his family.

Now, she won’t even look him in the eye.

Liam had only wanted to help her with her car when he’d seen her tire was flat. He’d only wanted to help and she had practically acted like he was some sort of murderer trying to lure her away to her death.

“Damn it,” Liam curses again, keys slipping from his hand and landing with a loud jangle onto the pavement.

A hand that is not his own scoops them up and nudges him away from the door. Liam blinks in surprise and jerks his head to the side.

Theo is standing next to him, a single brow raised in curiosity. He twirls the keys around his fingers and nods towards the passenger side. “Get in, I’ll drive.”

“What—“ Liam shakes his head. “No, I can drive.”

He doesn’t even know where Theo came from; hadn’t heard or smelled him come up at all.

Theo scoffs, “If you crash your car these assholes will blame the whole supernatural community for it. So, no. You can’t drive.”

Liam licks his lips and looks around, sees tons of curious eyed staring him down. A whine leaves Liam’s throat. They all look as though they’re watching a train wreck in the making.

“Come on Liam, get in the car,” Theo says and his voice is softer than a moment ago as he unlocks the doors. “Don’t let them see you cry.”

Liam sniffs, his fingers curling at his sides as he nods. “Okay.”

He moves around the car and climbs into the passenger seat, his head bowing low, hair falling into his eyes. Theo slides into the driver’s seat beside him and starts the car.

“Your truck…” Liam mumbles as they pull out of the parking lot of the only store Liam has been able to enter for the last month and a half.

“It’s fine, I’ll get it later,” Theo tells him, fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel.

It’s been a while since they’ve been in a car together with Theo driving and Liam slouching in the passenger seat. It hasn’t happened since the end of the war. Theo had given Liam a ride home, both of them tired and bloody. They hadn’t talked then, just rode in silence, the sound of the wind whooshing by their only break from the quiet.

It feels awkward to not talk now. Especially since Theo has come to his recuse yet again.

“What were you doing there?” Liam asks and wants to rolls his eyes at himself at once. It’s a grocery store. The answer is pretty much laid out for him.

“I’m guessing the same thing you were.”

“Getting painfully rejected by old women?” Liam asks turning to him with a faux look of surprise.

Theo glances over at him and then back at the road. He huffs, the sound dangerously close to a laugh.

“Well,” Theo says dryly. “I guess we weren’t doing the same thing at the store.”

“That’s a shame, rejection is all the rage these days, Raeken, “ Liam tells him seriously. “You should really try it.”

“Sure,” Theo nods. “I’ll get right on that. There’s a bingo hall on Reynolds street with lots of old people, I’ll try my luck there.”

“Good, you do that,” Liam says, turning back to the window.

The sun is starting to up down behind the rows of houses that line the street. The shift of light lets Liam see a ghost of his reflection in the glass. His nose is pink, his eyes still wet and shiny with the remnants of tears, but the curve of his lips are edging closer and closer to a smile.

It’s been a while since he’s really felt like smiling; since the urge to laugh has bubbled up inside him from genuine amusement.

“I don’t think I’ll be rejected though,” Theo muses.

Liam lifts his eyes, turning his attention the even fainter outline of Theo’s reflection. He can see the tilt of the chimeras head as he drives, the contemplation etched into the furrow of his brows.

“I mean… have you seen me? Not to brag or anything but, I’m not rejection material,” Theo says.

Liam snorts, and turns back around to see the real version of Theo—a hazy reflection just doesn’t measure up. “Someone thinks highly of themselves.”

“Well someone has to,” Theo says and there’s just an undercurrent of truth to the words that makes Liam pause.

“I don’t think lowly of you,” he tells Theo slowly.

Theo’s finger taps out a nervous beat on the steering wheel and then fall still as they pull up to a stop light. There’s a too long moment of silence before Theo turns to him with a cocky smile and raises brows.

“Oh? You think of me?” he asks, tone just verging on flirtatious. “No wonder Mrs. Hanover rejected you, she knows your heart belongs to someone else.”

Theo places a hand over his own heart and sighs. “I’m touched.”

Liam sputters, his hands flailing through the air like he’s trying to smack Theo’s words away. “What? No, why would I—that’s not what I mean—Raeken, you dick.”

Theo cracks a grin and the light turns green. Liam huffs and sits back in his seat, arms crossing over his chest.

He doesn’t feel annoyed or mad though. His cheeks burn ever so slightly, but there’s still a wave of something close to happiness inside him—a lessening of tension, of stress, of the need to act like he’s perfect so no one will hate him.

Free, he thinks. He feels free.

Theo turns onto Liam’s road and then they’re there, Liam’s crappy car parked in the driveway and the engine off. Theo twirls the keys once before holding them out.

“Here.”

Liam takes them. He feels like he should say something else, a thank you, maybe, but the words stick in his throat. He nods at Theo, fingers curling around the keys so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

It shouldn’t be that hard to say.

Theo stares at him for a long moment and then leans in closer. His voice is low when he speaks, almost conspiratory. “Thank you, Theo, for once again saving my life.”

Liam flushes and shoves at Theo’s shoulder, not hard, but just enough to push him away. “Shut up, I wasn’t in any trouble.”

Theo laughs. It’s a nice sound when it’s not preceding an evil monologue.

Liam rolls his eyes even as his face begins to burn. He fiddles with the door handle.

“But… thank you for putting your nose into other people’s business,” Liam grumbles. It’s a thank you, even if it is coated in sarcasm.

He pushes open the car door and climbs out, Theo following suit.

“You’re ever so welcome, little beta,” Theo’s tone is just as sarcastic as Liam’s was, but there’s a kernel of truth there too… just like Liam’s words.

He bumps his shoulder into Liam’s as they meet at the front of the car and walk up to Liam’s house. “I know how lost without me you get.”

“You wish, Raeken,” Liam tells him not bothering to hide his grin anymore. Theo’s got an almost smile on his face too, so Liam doesn’t care.

“Maybe I do,” Theo says with a sigh that’s entirely too dramatic to be even close to real. “It’s too bad I’m not your type. The old women of this town are really lucky.”

Liam almost trips over the first step to the porch because of it. He hadn’t expected that. He’s expected Theo to elbow him or verbally jab him back, but this… this feels like flirting. Real flirting.

“Yeah,” Liam’s voice comes out way softer than he has intended. “It’s too bad.”

“Yeah.”

A silence falls around them as they stand together on the porch. Liam doesn’t know what else to say but he also doesn’t want the conversation to end. He hadn’t known that Theo could be this person. This easy to get along with, easy to banter with type of person. It’s almost like they’ve been friends for a while—there’s a comfortableness to it— and yet it still feels new, still feels just this side of thrilling.

Liam clears his throat and takes a half step closer.

Theo doesn’t move away.

“Do you want to come inside?” Liam asks, head rolling inquiringly to the side.

Theo’s eyes find his, dark green and intense. There’s another shift here, just like with the town. Something different coiling around them. A beginning. To what? Liam isn’t sure yet, but there’s anticipation of it thrumming just beneath his skin.

Theo licks his lips, body swaying closer for just the barest hint of a second before leaning back and looking away.

“No,” he tells Liam, voice raspy in the growing darkness. “I should get back to my truck.”

“Oh…okay,” Liam says, he licks his lips too, but they still feel dry. “Be careful.”

Theo nods he head and steps backward, once twice and then turns around. Liam watches him go before turning to his front door and opening it. Cool air hits his skin, the familiar smells of home washing over him. Liam pauses before stepping inside, his hand tightening on the doorknob as he says Theo’s name.

The crunch of grass underfoot pauses, “Yeah?”

“I won’t let them see me cry anymore,” Liam says.

There’s a beat of silence and then Theo’s soft exhale of “good… they don’t deserve it.”

Liam smiles to himself as he goes inside and closes the door. There might be a lot of trials and tribulations to still get through when it comes to the town, but Liam feels like he’s found something that will help him navigate through it all and keep his sanity intact.

[profiction-dororo]

On the note of PR and goodwill...

Let's ignore for a moment they're asking for us to give them money for nothing in return, opposed to the service that gives us years worth of stories. Let's move AO3 from the picture and focus on what they're asking.

Antis want us to give them money.

My question is why would I give money to antis? The group that hated and harassed people over fiction for years? No really why would I want to give them a cent after all they've done? There are hours of posts that go to tell me why that's an awful investment.

All of the years of harassment and raids? Threats? Laughing at trauma? Suicide baiting? The actual suicides they caused? After all of that why would I be in a hurry to open my wallet and give them anything?

Do you think they'd ever put the discourse aside to help me or any other proshipper if we were five minutes from eviction. No, they'd make posts celebrating in fact at the misfortune and misery. Because compassion and care for fellow humans are disturbingly conditional to them. Their compassion can be taken at a moment's notice over drawings and fiction of all things. And if not fiction I'd imagine it'd be something else down the line that's equally as petty.

So what makes them deserving of my compassion and more importantly my money? I wouldn't go out of why way to laugh at their struggles as I'm better than that. But I don't see a reason to lift a finger to help them either.

I'd rather give money to the things that make me happy. And the real friends I know wouldn't abandon me over night because I like a specific manga.

people complaining "well why don't you donate to me instead of ao3 you monster, I need the money a lot more" are so fucking weird like, I didn't even know you existed? Not until you exposed your entire ass by saying anyone who doesn't donate to you should get hit by a car. I know ao3, it's a thing I care about, it gets a lot of donations because of the goodwill its service has generated from the community. Even if your need is greater, charity isn't something decided based on need, a lot of it is PR and personal feelings.

If anything it's a good example of why we need systemic change and social programs. Someone who's jerk still deserves help, but by being a jerk means no one is going to want to volunteer. People shouldn't be relying on my fickle emotions and if I feel the urge to donate to this one cause after scrolling past two dozen others.

--

UBI would solve a lot of problems, both people's genuine problems feeding and housing themselves and my problem of being tired of seeing whiny e-begging all over my dash.

[artificialqueens]

Don't you forget about me (Trixya) - Julie

There was a request about pre AS3 fics, so I kinda wrote a thing. This is fluff and filthy smut and a hint of angst, but it’s really just Katya freaking out a little bit about Trixie leaving. I used their dragnames because I can’t deal with two Brian’s and I also used she/her pronouns because I find it easier, but they’re both cis.

There might be some dom/sub undertones in this but nothing too much.

Thanks for reading! - Julie

Trixie came home to the smell of burned food.

Her five big suitcases were neatly stacked in the hall, as well as her guitar case. She already felt nervous just looking at them.

“That smells delicious”, she joked as she walked into the kitchen and Katya’s head whipped back.

“I tried to cook”, she whined and wrapped her arms around Trixie’s waist, burying her head in the crook of Trixie’s neck.

“I can tell”, Trixie said dryly and freed herself from Katya’s embrace. A baking dish was set on the counter, whatever had been in it was black

“What was that supposed to be?”, she couldn’t help but chuckle and Katya sighed dramatically.

“Vegetable casserole”, she explained and Trixie laughed.

“Don’t laugh you Bitch, I tried to cook for you! I wanted to spoil you”, Katya defended her self and Trixie felt a wave of affection for her. She wrapped her arms around Katya’s neck and her hands came to rest on Trixie’s waist automatically. It was a routine by now.

“Thank you”, Trixie mumbled, face just inches from her face, then she closed the gap between them and her lips pressed against Katya’s. She could feel the older man relax against her and she deepened the kiss. After a while they parted and looked into each others eyes.

“I am hungry though”, she said and Katya laughed.

“Want me to order Pizza?”, she asked and Trixie nodded enthusiastically.

She scraped the burned food into a bin while Katya made the call and then settled on the couch. Katya lied down next to her, head in Trixie’s lap and she began to play with her short blonde hair.

“You’re getting gray”, she noted after some time and Katya playfully slapped her arm.

“Fuck off.”

“No really, I’m afraid I’m not gonna recognize you when I come back”, she joked and Katya rolled her eyes. A comfortable silence fell over them.

“I’m going to miss you”, Katya said after a few minutes and Trixie’s grip in her hair tightened.

“It’s just a few months. Or weeks, depending on how long I last. I’ve been away for longer.”

“Yeah sure”, Katya sat up, “but then I didn’t have to worry about you. Now all I’m going to be able to thinks about is whether you’re doing well or not. And I know that you’ll do well because you’re amazing but-”, Katya rambled and Trixie interrupted her.

“Katya, stop, I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me”, she said, knowing that Katya would worry any way. Nothing could stop her from worrying.

Trixie had gotten pretty good at noticing when Katya was freaking out, no matter how good she was at hiding it. And while Trixie was nervous about All Stars, she wasn’t freaking out. She knew the game, she knew the players, and she had improved a lot since season seven. And even if she would be eliminated, there would be an irony to it that would fit her ‘brand’. Three-time loser of RuPaul’s Drag Race had a nice ring to it. So Trixie really didn’t have anything to be worried about, she had loyal fans and had been one of the most demanded queens for AS3. She hadn’t even been surprised when the inevitable call came, asking if she would do it.

But Katya had been nervous ever since. She worried for the both of them, because that was what Katya did. And for some reason, her going back, really freaked Katya out. It wasn’t because she’d be gone for long, the had been apart for longer. Up until a week ago, Trixie had been touring with the season nine girls and the two of them weren’t able to see each other. Sure, the had facetimed and texted constantly, something the wouldn’t be able to do, but they were okay with that really. They were good at doing distance.

Trixie found herself more afraid of leaving Katya alone, than of competing again.

The doorbell pulled her from her thoughts and Katya stood up, accepting the Pizza. Trixie could hear her closing the door and she came around the corner, carrying two pizza boxes.

“Dinner’s ready”, she grinned and Trixie smiled at her.

They ate on the couch in silence, shoulders pressed together. It was a comfortable silence and Trixie didn’t mind it at all. When she finished her pizza she moaned.

“Katya, that was delicious. You’re such a great chef, thank you so much for cooking for me”, she joked and Katya grinned.

“Anything for you, darling”, she said and Trixie laughed.

She hadn’t wanted to go out for dinner or drinks, not wanting to make a big deal out of tonight. But now she found herself staring at Katya who was sitting beside her, hugging her knees.

“I’m going to miss you too, you know”, she said and Katya looked at her surprised. She smiled and Trixie could see that she was blushing, which was absolutely adorable.

“I’m going to think of you everyday”, she added and Katya looked at her.

“When you jerk off?”

“Of course”, Trixie laughed and Katya grinned, her white teeth showing. She put her hand on Trixie’s shoulder, letting a single finger trail down Trixie’s arm. Trixie’s breath hitched, when her her sleeve ended and Katya’s finger connected with her bare skin. Katya grabbed her biceps and suddenly she swung a leg over Trixie’s lap, straddling her.

“Woah”, Trixie said surprised as she was being pressed deeper into the couch. Katya shifted around in her lap, trying to find a comfortable position and Trixie could feel her bony ass on her thighs.

Katya pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth and then, one on Trixie’s already opened mouth. Her tongue was licking Trixie’s bottom lip before she let it slide into her open mouth. Trixie moaned into the kiss and she kissed Katya back. It was messy and sloppy and Trixie never wanted it to end. Katya was still squirming on her lap and Trixie grabbed her ass to hold her still. Katya moaned into the kiss and the noise went straight to Trixie’s dick. Katya could feel it harden and she was grinding against it, getting hard as well. Trixie let out a groan and Katya chuckled, suddenly breaking the kiss. Trixie gasped for air and was just about to complain, as Katya started to attack her neck, sucking and biting into the sensitive skin. Trixie was breathing heavily now but then she grabbed Katya’s head and pulled her away from her neck.

“Stop, you can’t leave marks”, she said, her voice deep, “I’m going to get filmed tomorrow and my entrance look does not include a scarf.”

“Fine”, Katya rolled her eyes and instead ground down hard on Trixie’s dick.

“Oh fuck, Katya”, she couldn’t help it and she could hear her snicker as she continues to grind on Trixie’s lap. She was painfully hard now, the rough fabric of her jeans pressing down uncomfortably on her erection.

“Katya”, she moaned with closed eyes and suddenly the weight on her lap was gone and she whimpered at the loss of contact. Katya was standing in front of her, palming her visible erection through her sweatpants.

“Bedroom”, she commanded and held a hand out to Trixie to pull her off of the couch.

Katya fumbled with the buttons on Trixie’s shirt, eventually taking it off, before she lifted up her own shirt as well. They were standing shirtless in front of their bed and Trixie took in the sight before her. Katya had been working out with a personal trainer, and while Trixie had to admit that she had been a little jealous at first, she couldn’t be mad now.

“God”, she groaned and stepped closer to Katya who wasted no time and grabbed her ass, pulling her as close as possible. Trixie moaned and Katya leaned in.

“I am going to make you feel so good”, she whispered into Trixie’s ear and she whimpered, her knees shaking. Katya pushed her onto the bed and was immediately on top of her, kissing her hard. Then she placed soft kisses down her neck, careful not to leave any marks. She let her tongue circle around Trixie’s nipple before biting down on it and she hissed in pain and pleasure. Katya repeated the action on her other nipple and Trixie grabbed her short hair.

“Oh my god, Katya”, she whimpered and she could feel the older man smiling against her skin, placing gentle kisses down to the waistband of her jeans. Her hand was cupping Trixie’s hard dick over the trousers and Trixie squirmed.

“Take them off”, she demanded and Katya chuckled pressing down on her dick.

“So impatient”, she said and rubbed Trixie over her jeans again.

“Please, Katya”, she whined, “it hurts, please.”

“I know you like it that way”, Katya said, her voice deep. Suddenly her hand was gone and Trixie bucked her hips in frustration.

“Katya”, she cried out and she could hear her chuckle again. Trixie knew that Katya loved to tease her, loved being in control and Trixie didn’t mind. She knew Katya got off on it, that it turned her on seeing her squirm and hearing her beg. And she did just that.

“Please, Katya, oh my god please!”, she whimpered, “Please take them off, please.”

It paid off and Trixie lifted her hips so Katya could finally pull of her trousers. She sighed in relief, when the pressure left her dick but then she could feel Katya’s mouth on her. Trixie was still wearing her boxers and when she opened her eyes, she could see Katya kneeling between her legs, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the outline of her hard dick. She was looking up at Trixie through her eyelashes and Trixie let her head fall back groaning loudly.

“Fuck, Katya”, she whined but she made no move to pull down Trixie’s boxers. Trixie could probably come just from this, barely touched, just looking at Katya who teased her so mercilessly. She probably could but she didn’t want to.

“Katya I swear to God, if you don’t get your mouth on my dick now, you’re not going to see a single fucking cent of the $100.000!” The blonde man between her thighs laughed loudly. But then Trixie could feel fingers at the edge of the waistband and the her boxers were being pulled down, slowly and teasing. Her dick sprang free, against her stomach, hard and swollen and she hissed at the breeze of cold air. Without hesitating Katya wrapped her lips around the head and then bopped down, taking Trixie into her mouth almost completely. Trixie moaned and curled her fingers into Katya’s hair, trying not to buck her hips. Katya swirled her tongue and Trixie let out a strangled cry. She watched the rhythmic head movements and after a few minutes she could feel the tight feeling in her stomach.

“I’m gonna cum”, she breathed out and Katya pulled away, pumping Trixie’s dick once, twice before she came on Katya’s face with a scream. Katya looked up at Trixie, licking her lips. She looked absolutely filthy and Trixie moaned again at the sight of her. Katya let two fingers trail down her cheek and then wrapped her lips around them,licking the cum off of them. She almost cleaned her entire face that way without breaking eye contact once. Trixie stared at her open mouthed and wondered how she got this lucky. Katya gathered the last bit of cum on her chin and held her finger out to Trixie who blinked at her.

“Come on”, Katya said, “or I might not fuck you later.”

Trixie swallowed before she bent down to Katya, taking her finger into her mouth. She let her tongue swirl around it and tasted herself.

“Swallow it”, Katya said quietly and Trixie did, her heart beating fast.

“Good”, Katya mumbled and pulled her finger out of Trixie’s mouth. She could feel herself getting hard again.

“Lay down”, Katya commanded and Trixie did. She felt like she was high, Katya feeding her her own cum felt so surreal. Suddenly she could feel Katya’s wet finger, the one that had just been in her mouth, press against her entrance and she moaned loudly. Katya let her finger slip inside of her and Trixie’s breathing hitched. Soon another finger was added and Trixie closed her eyes in pleasure as Katya worked her open. She moaned as she began to scissor her and she rutted back onto Katya’s fingers who chuckled again.

“Are you good?”, Katya asked after a while and Trixie nodded.

“Hand me the lube and a condom”, Katya said, her voice was softer now, gentler. Trixie reached into the bedside drawer blindly and grabbed the half-empty bottle of lube and a condom. She handed them to Katya and she pulled her fingers out of Trixie. She whined at the loss of contact but then Katya pushed them back in, both at the same time, this time slicked with lube. Trixie could hear Katya moan and she knew that she was slicking up her dick with lube. She could feel her pressed against her entrance and Katya pulled out her fingers painfully slow. But then she pushed in her dick and it was so much better. She stopped after a few inches looking at Trixie.

“Alright?”, she asked and Trixie nodded frantically.

“Yes, yes, please. Oh my god, Katya!”, she screamed as Katya pushed inside her all at once. She stilled, letting Trixie adjust for a few seconds before rutting back. The both moaned, Trixie high-pitched and Katya low.

“Katya”, Trixie said over and over, “Brian, oh my god!”

“You feel so good”, Katya moaned and bend forward to kiss Trixie’s mouth, tongue trailing over her bottom lip.

“Is this what you’re going to think about, when you’re alone in your hotel room?”, she asked pressed against Trixie’s cheek. Trixie wrapped her legs around Katya’s waist and she picked up her pace.

“About how good I fuck you?”, she asked and her hand wrapped around Trixie’s cock, stroking her slowly at first, then faster. Trixie wasn’t able to form full sentences at that point and so she just moaned Katya’s name and 'oh my god’s over and over again.

“Katya I-”, she said as she could feel her stomach tightened a second time, and the she came all over Katya’s hand and her stomach while Katya was thrusting into her hard, groaning loudly. She came quickly after her and pulled out after a few seconds. She tossed the condom on the floor next to the bed. She lied down next to Trixie, breathlessly.

“That was hot”, Trixie said after a few moments of silence, “Where did that come from?”

“Gotta make sure you don’t forget me, while you’re in there”, Katya mumbled and she pressed a kiss against Trixie’s shoulder.

“Never.”